the lighting in the kitchen is so much better than anywhere else in the house

don’t you go (l.h.)


warning: mild violence and smut

word count: 7k+

songfic based on all time low’s “don’t you go”




I didn’t really know why I felt the need to get so dressed up for this party, it wasn’t like I was even going to be there longer than what would please my friends. They had begged me to come for days on end, claiming it was going to be the best party of the year. Considering it was a New Year’s party on a Friday night, I had a feeling it would pretty packed. I for one would rather be at home with my boring boyfriend, in my boring apartment, watching the boring broadcasting of Times Square as the ball dropped tonight. Apparently my friends had other plans, not allowing me to do so another year in a row.

My shaky hands were doing a surprisingly good job at applying the thin eyeliner, bringing out my eyes just enough for my liking. My outfit was a bit more dressy than I would normally choose. My top was black, the solid material cut off just above my chest and transforming into an elegant lace that traveled up to my neck, sleeveless. The skirt which it was tucked into was a light mint green that reached just above my knees, and black strappy heels. My hair was in light waves, coming down center back. I felt like I was wasting such a nice outfit on such an insignificant night.

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In Your Crosshairs

Author: @punkof-pop
Pairing: Theo Raeken x Reader
Words: 6,782
Warnings: Fluff, angst, feels (sorry, not sorry)
A/N: I wrote this for @fillthevoid-stilinski  ‘s writing challenge and it was honestly a lot of fun! It gave me way more motivation. Also, I was listening to Copacetic by Knuckle Puck (as I do every week in preparation for Shapeshifter) and the song In Your Crosshairs seemed to fit so I strongly recommend! Let me know what you guys think and if you wanna be tagged because maybe this will be a two-shot instead of a one-shot, let me know.
Masterlist
Prompt list

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

It’s a crisp night for California but you’re still out walking, hoodie wrapped around your arms. This is a terrible idea and you know it but there’s a feeling in the pit of your stomach that tells you to suck it up and just do it. The worst possible thing that can happen is you end up dead but everyone dies eventually, might as well take the risk.

You approach the black truck that’s parked, engine off, in an open parking lot. You can’t help but roll your eyes at the sight and idiotic parking place. You thought it was just a rumor, someone mistaking him for someone else but that’s his truck.

You tap the window and the sleeping chimera wakes up almost immediately. “I’m going, I’m going.” He grumbles without even looking to the window.

He looks to you with wide eyes as you point for him to roll the window down but he simply opens the door. “Wasn’t asking you to leave.” You sigh, still in disbelief you’re standing here.

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Fic: Sun-Kissed Confessions

Title: Sun-Kissed Confessions
Tags: fluff, getting together, friends to lovers, kissing, jealous!Phil
Words: 2739
Summary:
Mostly Phil is just jealous of the way Dan seems to be perfectly at ease with the idea of kissing Anthony, but wouldn’t consider it with Phil.

Author’s Notes: Literally all @killingmeitsso2yearsago has to do these days is get me talking about things and then yell PROMPT and off I go… I’m such a sucker for my mutuals man.

I’m aware I’m posting twice in one day but Dan joked about kissing Anthony at the end of ‘Stop saying we look alike!’ and I’m pretty sure Phil was there and… this happened. It was written SOOO quickly so I’m sorry for the errors.

[AO3 Link]

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Death, Amnesia and 4 coffees Please - Batmom x Batfam

Just a random idea I got while walking hope from work. Hope you’ll like it, as usual, feedbacks are very welcomed. 

My masterlist blog : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com

________________________________________________

3 months. 

3 months already since she died…

Jason, just like Alfred, his brothers, and his father just couldn’t get over it. 

He just couldn’t move on with his life without his mother. Without the woman that always stood by him no matter what, even in the worst of moments. 

He was so damn angry at himself that he wasn’t able to save you ! All of them were, the guilt eating them more and more every day…Even though they all knew things went too fast. 

You weren’t the only one that died that day…Thousands lost their life in the almost total destruction of the neighborhood you were born in : The Narrows. 

It was the poorest in Gotham, and you were helping out a charity there when the Batman failed big time, for the first time in his career. 

Ha hadn’t been able to solve the Riddler’s riddle. And for the first time in his life,  Edward Nigma was finally able to fulfill one of his evil plans..Which was the destruction of every single neighborhood of Gotham, one for each riddle the Dark Knight wouldn’t be able to solve. 

And of course, the only one he didn’t find, was the one associated with the only place in Gotham you were in…You, and thousands of other people died. And it was all Batman’s fault. No matter that he was able to save the rest of the inhabitants, the blood of those people were on his hands…

Your blood was on his hands. And, just like Alfred and his sons, he just couldn’t get over your death. They all felt so guilty and angry at themselves that they couldn’t save you…you were always there for them, always by their side, having their back and…they let you down. 

Of course they send you messages telling you to leave Gotham but..You wouldn’t. You stayed because you wanted to help people. According to witnesses, to people who were survivors of the blast, who barely escaped it…the last time they all so you, you were trying to get some kids to safety. 

But no matter how guilty they felt, how devastated they were, it wouldn’t change anything. You were gone. Forever. And once again, Jason Todd found himself wandering the street of Gotham aimlessly, trying to run away from his dark thoughts, trying to grieve you, even though he knew it was actually impossible to ever move from you. 

Staying at the Manor with his brothers and father was…unbearable. 

Alfred kept cleaning the house over and over again, never taking a break, and worst of all…avoiding everything you touched last. Your half finished cup of tea in the library. The books you left open. Your dinner plate still in the sink. Some of your shoes thrown haphazardly in the living room. Your towels in the bathroom. Your jewelry on the kitchen counter, that you left there because you didn’t want to wear anything that’d make people from the Narrows feel uncomfortable around you. Your favorite blanket, still on the floor where you left it, as you realized you were going to be late to the charity event and napping in the couch was now over…Alfred cleaned everything, but avoided touching any of your stuffs. And it was unbearable. 

Dick…Oh it was one of the worst. Jason was used to be the broody and overly-cynical one. Him and his father competed constantly about which one was the broodiest and Dick would just laugh at them and make silly jokes. Jason used to be like that too, making jokes and even able to make the Batman crack a smile…but ever since he came back to life, he lost that. He became darker and meaner. And Dick was kind of his solace, with his cheerful persona and positive attitude. The oldest Wayne boys always been everyone’s beacon of light in the darkest of moments. But your death…your death turned him into a zombie that spend his days looking out of a window, or staring at old pictures of you and him, stuck in memories of you, unable to see his own light…And it was unbearable. 

The only person that could really convince Tim to sleep, to not drink too much coffee, to take care of himself and to socialize was you. A word from you and he’d realize that yes, this was too much and he needed to chill, to go see his friends, to relax…But without you ? Alfred tried, oh he really did try but…Tim wouldn’t listen. You really were the only one to convince him, and he would forever associate all the good things he experienced in life (time with his friends and family, relaxed moment in front of the TV, good nights of sleep etc etc…), with you. Without you ? He just couldn’t…And seeing his little brother destroy himself like so was unbearable to Jason. 

Damian didn’t utter a word since your death. Not even a sound. Him who usually always talked too damn much, and was just so annoying…Nothing. He didn’t brag about anything, he didn’t try to be better than anyone else anymore. He was just…apathetic. He wouldn’t say anything, not even to Dick. He wouldn’t even look at them in the eyes. He spends most of his time in front of your tomb, where he did talk to you. But to others ? No. It’s like he had made a vow of silence and this ? It was unbearable. 

Bruce spend all his time working to avoid thinking about your absence but…Whenever he thought he was alone, whenever he came back to your shared bedroom, half-expecting still to find you there…They could all hear him cry. They could hear him mourn you, inconsolable. And the thought of his father, that he always viewed as invincible, destroyed by you not being there anymore was unbearable. Bruce wasn’t fine, inconsolable. He would forever be inconsolable, he lost the love of his life 3 months ago…

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Best Mistake - Part 4 - Smut

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Reader
Words: 2,958
AN: This is the last part! I hope you enjoyed this! Thanks to my child @celestial-writing for being up my ass about this fic lmao. Love you.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3


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Harry Styles Blurb/Request #5

So here’s the previously requested part II of the “Me and the boys with handle it.” blurb I did a few weeks ago. Took me a little longer than the other ones I’ve done, but I’ve been back in school and trying to keep up with No Control, so it got pushed aside a bit. But, I got a chance to sit and write recently, so this came out! I’ve got a few other requests that I’ve got to do, so look out for those in the coming weeks, too.

Hope you guys enjoy! xx


*Image is not mine. It was honestly just my inspiration for this part xx*

Part II

“Bug, leave Mumma alone, please. She’s not feeling the best.”

Their youngest—well, soon to be middle—child pouted a bit at being told he can’t cuddle with his mother. And it broke Y/N’s heart a little, seeing him so put out by not being able to sit with her and her not being able to love on him properly, but she’s just so damn uncomfortable. She’d been having contractions all day, but it was in such irregular intervals that she knew she wasn’t in active labor yet. Which was annoying as hell, because she really just wanted this baby out of her already. She’s already two days past her due date, and she’s ready to just get it over with. 

“But—” the little boy started, but Y/N cut him off, not unkindly.

“Just sit beside me, yeah?” she suggested, reaching out for his little hand. “We’ll watch some telly for a bit before Gran comes ‘round.”

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Plus Size || Bangtan Reaction

PREVIEW

You were sat on the couch watching BTS’ latest interview, staring at your boyfriend who was seated happily on the screen. It was normal for the two of you now. Whenever he was doing a live broadcast you would sit and wait at home.

The woman on screen was smiling widely as she asked each of the members a question. Once she got to your boyfriend, you felt a smile come across you face.

“So. All the other guys are very vocal about what they look for in a girl, what about you? What’s your ideal girl?”

It was a secret about the two of you being together. The company knew about it and they approved it but they wanted it to stay quiet so that BTS would still be looked at and lusted after to increase sales. You understood this and didn’t object as it helped with their career.

You knew what you were expecting him to say, but the words that came out of his mouth were a shock to you.

“I look for a small girl, someone who I can easily hold in my arms and cradle. She has to be sweet and funny and always make me smile.”

You felt something akin to a gunshot go through your chest as you thought about what he said. You looked down at yourself and noticed what you had been trying to block out. You had never thought being a little bigger had been a bad thing, but as the words left his mouth you realized that maybe you weren’t what he wanted.

The other guys on the screen looked at him with disbelief as the words left his mouth. They knew that who he was describing wasn’t you, and that hurt more than anything.

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An Ending and A Beginning

Jonerys week Day 6: Hogwarts AU as promised :) 
I. 

Their friendship starts, as all great friendships do, on the Hogwarts Express the day before their first year.

They’re not supposed to be friends; they’re not even supposed to talk to each other, really. The Starks and Targaryens are known throughout the Ministry of Magic-but for very different reasons. The Starks are noble and honorable, the Targaryens are ambitious, manipulative, and often cruel. To be anything else breaks a secret familial code, one that’s been around far longer than they have.

Jon and his cousin, Robb, are trading chocolate frog cards when the compartment door opens and a girl with braided blonde hair and two trunks filled with school supplies pushes her way inside. She sits down on the seat as far away from Jon as she can get; her very being seems to radiate distaste. “Everywhere else is full.” She says it sadly, as if to make sure they both know that she would rather sit anywhere else.

Robb’s eyes narrow and Jon can already feel a fight brewing below the surface. “You could have asked first.”

She rolls her eyes and pulls out a dark leather bound book, eyes skimming the pages as she flips through them with her perfectly manicured fingernails. Everything about her is perfect and put together-from the way her dress collar is pulled straight to the shine on her black shoes to the neat green ribbon in her hair. It’s obvious she’s planning on ignoring them.

So they ignore her and don’t offer her any pumpkin pasties. He and Robb buy a bunch off the trolley witch when she comes by; he might have thought to offer her one, if she’d been nicer to him. She hasn’t brought along any food of her own; at least, she doesn’t eat anything the entire day. She just reads.

He doesn’t need to ask her name. There’s only one family that looks like that.

She’s Daenerys Targaryen, the sole living heir of arguably the most powerful family in the Wizarding World.

But when they reach Hogsmeade station and Robb leaves to change into his robes, he can’t help rescuing one of the last pumpkin pasties, half smashed in its wrapper but still good (he assumes). He hands it to her, tapping her knee gently to get her attention. “Are you hungry?”

She looks at him directly for a moment. She has startling violet eyes. And then she looks at the pastie and he waits for her to say no.

But instead, she smiles-just a little bit, but enough to surprise him. She has a very nice smile. “Thank you.” She takes the pasty and pops it in her mouth in one bite.

They take the same boat to the castle but are separated in the Great Hall. He doesn’t see her again until she’s Sorted into Slytherin and she walks to join her new tablemates, face expressionless. He can’t even tell if she’s excited to be the next in a long line of Targaryen Slytherins, like he’s excited to be the latest in a long line of Stark Gryffindors.

But there’s still a bit of pumpkin pasty caked on her fingers. Just a little, but enough to make him smile.

He hears her calling his name when they all disperse to go to their dormitories. For a minute he’s torn between following the Gryffindor prefect (he’s forgotten his name already, but he thinks it might be Gideon or something equally ridiculous) because he doesn’t want to get lost, but she’s already moving against the tide to get to him. She’s holding something close against her side and she stops in front of him and drums it with her fingers carefully. “I thought you might like this. It might come in handy. Besides, I’ve already read it.” She smiles at him a little bit and then she runs off again, running full tilt towards the Slytherin dormitories.

He looks down at the book she was reading earlier. It looks old, the pages crumpled and fading, the binding cracked in places. But the words on the first page are clear and bright: Egg’s Guide to Hogwarts: What the Teachers Don’t Want you to Know.

Later that night Robb asks him what he’s reading. He answers vaguely, glad that he wasn’t paying attention on the train because Jon doesn’t know what he would think about the fact that they’re on friendly terms with Daenerys Targaryen, after what her family did to his. And Robb seems to take those things a lot more seriously than he does.

But Daenerys Targaryen isn’t her older brother. And evil people look evil. They don’t smile like that. And they don’t eat pumpkin pasties.


II.

It’s the day after Halloween and they’re making themselves sick on the leftover treats they snuck out of the kitchen. Well…they didn’t sneak it out, technically. The house elves were giving it away for free. They’d only meant to go get a few more cauldron cakes but they’d left weighed down with baskets and baskets. There will still be plenty left over to share with their housemates, once they go back. She discovered the Room of Requirement on her second day, following the directions of Egg’s book. Jon took a little longer-but that’s why she’s higher in their year, not him.

She wishes, not for the first time, that she and Jon were in the same House. She loves Slytherin of course, and all her friends there-she likes to lie on the couch in the common room and look at the light the lake makes as it moves over the windows. But it makes things with Jon so much more complicated than they should be. It’s like people can’t understand why a Gryffindor and a Slytherin-especially a Stark and a Targaryen-can possibly be friends.

No one knows that the Sorting Hat wanted to put her into Gryffindor but she asked it (no, begged it) not to. Her family would disown her if she didn’t get into Slytherin. That’s what they did to her older brother. They said it brought shame upon the family name.

But she forgets about that when they’re together. It doesn’t matter to Jon and it doesn’t matter to her. “Are you nervous about Quidditch tryouts?”

He shrugs. “A little bit.”

She jostles his shoulder playfully. “Well, you don’t have to be. You’re amazing.” Sometimes she watches him practice down at the pitch at night-he really, really wants to be the Seeker for the Gryffindor team. She likes flying but she doesn’t like sports-but during their first year he helped her learn how to ride her broom when hers was giving her trouble. Usually they swap broomsticks-her broom is a better make because her parents only have to spend money on one child, not six. She doesn’t mind; she loves watching Jon fly, because he moves through the air like he’s part of it.

“But Robb’s trying out too-”

“You’re better than him. I’m not trying to play favorites. You just are. You’re the best Quidditch player in our year.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

She licks chocolate off her fingertips. “Then you’re being too hard on yourself.”

“Are you going to come to watch?”

“You know I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Are you coming for the holidays this year?” He knows she doesn’t like being at home any more than she has to and she wishes she could say yes. Jon is always talking about his younger siblings and how they wouldn’t look at her the way everyone else does-or they would at first, but they’d get over it like he and Robb have. But she doesn’t think that’s a good idea, and it’s too big of a lie to hide from her father. He would find out, one way or another. He has eyes and ears everywhere, especially around her. But not at Hogwarts.

She sighs. “I wish I could…”

“But family is family.”

“Something like that.” She wants to tell him that it’s not about family at all. It’s about what she knows about her father that could destroy him. “You’ll have to owl me though.”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s only two weeks, you know.”

“A lot can happen in two weeks. Maybe you’ll fall off your broom and break your arm and then you won’t be able to play.”

“That won’t matter if I’m not on the team.”

“But you will be. You’re the best at it. If someone doesn’t see that, they’re a fool.” He smiles at her-that cute boyish smile he always has that makes him look rumpled and adorable. Like a puppy, maybe.

And then he leans towards her, and his hand comes up to touch her face…and he brushes a strand of hair out of her eyes. She jerks back when he touches her-not because it’s unpleasant, but because it’s surprising. She’s never been touched by him before. His fingertips smell like cinnamon.

He pulls back, looking almost hurt. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not that.” But she’s not sure how to finish the sentence and she trails off. There’s an awkward silence between them and she doesn’t like it. They don’t have silences. And they’re never awkward. “Have you done the essay for Potions yet?”

“…Yes.” But he won’t look at her.

“You haven’t. You do realize it’s due tomorrow, don’t you? And I shouldn’t let you borrow mine.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t.” But he’s already grinning at her because he already knows she’ll say yes. And she does-because of course, but also because it makes things easy between them again. It glosses over that moment because there are a lot of complicated things in her life but Jon should never be one of them.


III.

Robb’s growing muscles.

He likes to show off, standing in front of the mirror and flexing his muscles when Jon’s not looking-or sometimes even when he is, just to show off. Girls can’t get enough of him-especially not when he’s fresh from the Quidditch pitch, broomstick in hand and a faint sheen of sweat beading on his perfect forehead. Some of their friends have girlfriends but Robb doesn’t-and neither does Jon, of course. He doesn’t really talk to girls. Except for Dany, but Dany doesn’t count.

Robb’s glad that he’s a Chaser now. He’s the team golden boy and everyone loves him-he’s lithe and agile and he can dart through any number of players to score the game winning goal. Meanwhile Jon stays on the outskirts-but when he sees the Snitch he doesn’t hesitate to go for it. They make a winning team. For Christmas he got Dany a tiny golden rosette that she can wear on her shirt collar so she can root for both sides when they play Slytherin.

The girl next to him, Margaery Tyrell, is distracted by Robb’s muscles. Jon rolls his eyes and tries to focus on the teacher. He doesn’t know how a teacher can make Defense Against the Dark Arts boring, but their teacher certainly tries. Apparently he was mauled by a mountain lion and was lost in the Mongolian mountains for two years without human contact and he’s a bit…strange.

“TARGARYEN!” he screeches, and Dany jumps half a mile. He’s standing over her desk and holds out his hand. “No reading in my class, please.”

A snicker runs through the class and a flush creeps up the back of Dany’s neck. A picture of a dragon flashes back at him from the front of the discarded book-of course. She wants to be a dragonologist and she reads about them every chance she gets. Sorry, he mouths.

She shrugs. What can you do?

“STARK!”

Margaery giggles. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” he mutters. I’ll need it. “Yes sir?”

“Come up here,” their teacher barks. Jon has to force himself not to vault over his desk. “Since you and Miss Targaryen seem to be especially distracted today, perhaps you wouldn’t mind demonstrating the exercise described on page one hundred and twenty seven of your book? Miss Targaryen, if you will be the attacker?” Dany’s always the attacker and he sees how her face falls. Right then he feels a swell of anger rise within him. Dany’s one of the best people he knows, Targaryen or otherwise.

They both stand and go to the front of the classroom. It’s a simple blocking spell; they’re technically not allowed to start dueling yet but their teacher says that won’t happen when they find themselves in a nest of werewolves some day (Jon’s pretty sure werewolves don’t live in nests but that’s beside the point. “Ready…set…go!”

Jon hasn’t even lifted his wand yet when Dany’s hex hits him. Leg lock-her favorite. He can beat her in Quidditch, of course, but when it comes to spells she can cast circles around him.

“Excellent technique, Miss Targaryen. Up you get, Mr. Stark. Finite incantatem.”

The class laughs good naturedly as they return to their seats but Dany doesn’t catch his eye when she sits back down. Then he looks at the back of her neck and sees that she’s still blushing. Why is that?

He wants to ask her later but Robb convinces him and some of his friends to sneak out to Hogsmeade for illicit butterbeer and they all get caught and get detention for two weeks, so he forgets.

On the last night of his detention Dany intercepts him in the entrance hall and hands him a bottle of butterbeer from the 3 Broomsticks, grinning. “If you wanted some, you could have just asked.”

He doesn’t ask, and she doesn’t tell.


IV.

“Does Daenerys have a boyfriend yet?”

“No.” Daenerys is too busy doing whatever it is she does to have a boyfriend.

“Hmm.”

“Why?” It’s late and he wants to get to sleep but Robb has left his homework until the last minute (again) and he’s struggling to finish.

Robb shrugs. “You know they’re having some ball or something on Christmas Eve and I wondered if she might want to go.”

That woke him up. “What?”

“Come on, Jon. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed what grew in this summer.”

“Dear God, Robb-”

“She’s pretty, she’s nice, she knows how to dance. What’s not to like?”

Jon can’t think of a good answer to that but he just wants to say that it’s not right. He’s Dany’s friend, not Robb. They’re the ones who have the study sessions in the library and go walking around the lake talking about everything and nothing because even now she doesn’t like talking about her family. If someone were to go the ball with her it shouldn’t be Robb.

Not that Jon wants to go himself. Or even wants to ask her.

(of course he noticed what came in this summer. It was all anyone could talk about on the first night in their dormitory).

But she turns Robb down. And she turns down the other three guys who ask her. It’s not until they’re in the Owlery one morning in November with a cold bite in the air that he gets  a chance to ask her why.

“Oh, Jon…” She won’t look at him. “I don’t know. It just…I’m not interested. You know?”

He knows. One of Dany’s close friends, Ygritte, asked him and he turned her down. He likes her, but not like everyone would think he likes her. “So…are you going at all?”

“I’m not sure yet. I don’t have a dress.”

“I’m sure Sansa could help you find something.”

She shrugs. “All of my friends already have dates. I wouldn’t want to-”

“Then you can come with me.” He blurts it out so fast that he surprises them both. So of course, he has to backtrack. “I mean, if you want to.”

For a minute her expression is unreadable-and then her smile lights up her eyes. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”

So apparently they have a date.

*

Jon almost does a spit take when she comes down the Grand Staircase wearing a long, flowy white gown, a crown of white pearls, and an intricate hairstyle that makes it look like her entire head is made out of braids.

Robb whistles. “Lucky duck.”

Jon can’t take his eyes off her for the rest of the night. Not when they dance and he has to focus on not stepping on her feet (but he does anyway, of course, and it makes her laugh). Not when they sit out a round for pumpkin juice. Not even when she wants to go outside because her shoes hurt and they end up sitting on a bench in the gardens and talking until the gathering disbands.

And especially not when they get caught under the mistletoe and she kisses him-a light, hesitant kiss on the side of his cheekbone that feels like butterfly wings. He especially can’t take his eyes off of her then. He always knew that she was beautiful but…she’s radiant. She looks like an angel, or a star-not someone who’s friends with him.

“Merry Christmas, Jon.”

“Merry Christmas, Dany.”


V.

She’s going to fail her O.W.L.s and it’s Jon’s fault because every single one of their study sessions has devolved into nothing but the two of them just kissing in quiet corners of the library.

“Stop it.” She makes herself pull away from him, even though his lips taste of the Quidditch field and she wants more of it. “We have to try and learn something.” She settles herself in his lap, resting her head on his collarbone. He shot up like a weed over the summer and she’s always reminded of just how short she is whenever she sees him towering over her.

But then again, he makes a nice pillow.

His hand covers hers and turns the book to their most recent review lesson. “I don’t see why you’re stressing. You can do this backwards, forwards, and in your sleep.”

“That’s not…it’s the principle of the thing, Jon. I need Outstandings.”

“Why?” He sounds curious now.

“Because…” Have they really been friends for five years and never once talked about her family? “I just have to. My parents want me to. They want me in the Ministry.”

“But you don’t want to be in the Ministry.”

“Think, Jon. Can you remember a time before a Targaryen was the Minister for Magic?” He’s quiet for a minute. “Me neither. And now it’s my turn.”

“What about being a dragonologist?”

“I don’t know-but I can’t do both.”

“Why can’t you tell your parents-”

“I can’t. It’s just….” She tries to stand, gathering up her books. “Family stuff, you wouldn’t understand.”

He pulls her back down gently and turns to face her again until they’re staring into each other’s eyes and he’s holding her so close, so close she almost can’t tell where she ends and he begins but for their clothing. Their breath mingles in the air between them and she feels safe and protected in a way she hasn’t in years. “Try me.”

“It’s a secret.”

He kisses her gently, deepening the kiss until she loses her resolve and kisses him back. His hand tangles in her hair, unknotting her braids and letting her hair cascade down around her shoulders. “You can trust me. You know that, don’t you?”

“My father…he has certain things he wants me to do-”

“Tell him you can’t.”

She shakes her head and bites her lip so hard she tastes blood. “No, you don’t understand. He…his job, his legacy…it’s everything to him. If I tarnish it, he’ll never forgive me. And I’m the only child he has left. There are certain things that I have to do, for his reputation-” Reputation. She suddenly thinks she’s going to cry and she can’t look at him. “And if he cuts me out then I’ll never see my mother and…”

He doesn’t tell her to go against her family. He doesn’t give her worthless promises or ask her stupid questions. He just holds her close until the tears stop coming and then he holds her longer, until she falls asleep in his arms.

They never do go over that Summoning spell, but she passes the OWL anyway.


VI.

The summer before their sixth year she finally meets his family-his aunt and uncle, his mother, and the rest of his cousins.

His family lives in the countryside, in a rambling old country house that’s always filled with his brother Rickon’s pets and his brother Bran’s birds. There are a few stares at first from the younger ones who aren’t at Hogwarts but eventually they get used to her-and pretty soon they’re enamored with her. Especially Arya. Arya is always talking about ‘Dany this’ and ‘Dany that’ and how Jon should marry Dany as soon as they graduate.

She mentions that at dinner. In front of their parents.

And both Jon and Dany almost choke on their bread pudding. They’re in love. Isn’t that enough?

Besides, he knows she’ll never marry him. Her father wouldn’t allow it. But he still wonders sometimes what it would be like to have that option open to him-to imagine a world where he could wake up in her arms, where they could have kids, buy a house in the countryside. He would let her be a dragonologist and he could be a Quidditch player and he’d make sure she never had to go near her father again if she didn’t want to.

She leans into his touch and he can’t help kissing her on the head. He can feel the rest of the family watching but he doesn’t mind.

For now they have each other, and that’s enough.

*

In Advanced Potions their first task of the year is to make amortentia-and then they have to take notes on what they smell in it.

He smells the scene of a Quidditch pitch on a rainy morning, hot chocolate on a cold winter night…and the scent of Dany’s shampoo, fresh out of the Prefect’s bathroom (sometimes they bathe together, when they’re certain they’re alone).

*

She tells her father later that year that she wants to be a dragonologist. She’s right; he disowns her. So he invites her back to spend the summer with his family and thankfully she doesn’t refuse. His mother already calls her the daughter she never had, and he’s pretty sure that it’s intentional.


VII

Year Seven is a year of lasts.

It’s their last start of term feast, their last set of classes, their last time in the Astronomy Tower at midnight, their last Defense Against the Dark Arts practical, their last time in the Herbology greenhouses tending to the bubotubers and doxies for the third years. Their last Christmas at Hogwarts. Every day feels more and more real to her, the reality of life after Hogwarts setting in. She’ll go to Bulgaria this summer and work with dragons. Her dreams will become a reality.

But she’ll miss Jon.

They sleep together for the first time in the Room of Requirement on New Year’s Eve. They’re clumsy and inexperienced but she still loves it-she loves waking up the next morning with the scent of him still in her nose and his puppy eyes blinking down at her and his arms holding her like she’s the most precious thing in the world. “I’ll miss this place,” she says, lips brushing across his forehead. “I’ll miss Hogwarts. I’ll miss you.”

She wishes they never had to leave, in that moment.

*

Her father dies in the spring and she comes to the funeral. Her mother, in tears, welcomes her home.

And just like that, everything changes.

Jon proposes a few days later. He wants to come to Bulgaria with her, and wherever life takes them after that. He’s decided that he wants to be an Auror now and apparently eastern Europe is notorious for its vampires. On her seventeenth birthday, she accepts. They’re not the only ones; it seems like everyone gets engaged that spring. It’s a time for new beginnings. It’s time for the next generation of witches and wizards to start their…futures. It’s kind of a scary word, with all of the possibility contained in it.

But for the first time she feels only joy about it.

*

On their last day at Hogwarts she and Jon spend the morning walking around the castle, reminiscing about all the old memories-the time they got locked in a broom closet, their favorite portraits, the Divination tower, the secret passageway that leads directly to Honeydukes. Hogwarts isn’t just a school, she realizes. It’s a home-not just for wizards and witches but for all of them. It’s their home.

The other students come to see them off. She hugs all of the Starks of course (there are lots of them in school now and Hogwarts will be talking about them for years to come) and then she and Jon are off to Bulgaria. It seems abrupt, this ending.

But she realizes, as she watches the castle disappear into the mist with Jon by her side, hands intertwined, that it’s not really the end.

She’s lucky. It’s just the beginning.

There’s an absolutely lovely piece of fanart by @bloomsbury for a Jonerys Hogwarts AU-this story isn’t based off of it or anything (I’ve been wanting to do a Hogwarts AU for months) but it’s definitely worth taking a look at. 

This is making me want to reread all the Harry Potter books again…

One more day in Jonerys week! And it’s already written! So I did it. I wrote for all seven days. I’m honestly more proud of myself than I should be. 

43. “Squeeze my hand if you can hear me”  Dan.

Hello, Love bugs! 

Dan X Reader

Warnings- Smut. Also this is a really long one.


Saying you hate crowds would be considered an understatement.You could never put it into words. It’s so much more than just people forgetting what personal space is. It’s even more than the thought of everyone looking at you thinking you’re strange. It’s an immense feeling in the pit of your stomach that tightens. It’s the way you feel your breathing changing to a more shallow breath. Dan understood how you feel in crowds and has always tried his hardest to help you through any emotions you were feeling. Today was an extra stressful day as you were not only in a crowd of strangers but it was a crowd of Dan’s family. 

“They will love you just as much as I love you.” That was easy for Dan to say. He wasn’t the one who was meeting a bunch of new people who were for sure judging you to see if you were right for there Dan.

 "What if they don’t. What if your aunt thinks I’m wrong for you and tells your mum and your mum tells your grandma and then she will hate me and then I will never be able to be with you because I can’t make you choose between myself and your family.“ Dan kisses you softly to try and get you to shut up for even just a second.

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2

So far, their first day at home had consisted of nothing more than naps and cuddles and kisses and it had been so much more than Sophia had ever dared to hope for. Harry even succeeded in his first nappy change, all by himself, and the look on his face when he came back into the kitchen with Josie in his arms, neatly tucked back into her onesie, was one of sheer pride and joy.

“I feel so accomplished,” he said as he walked over to where Sophia was stirring something in a pot.

“You did well, babe,” Sophia said.

“Wha-what was that?” Harry asked.

catch up here | talk to me about it here

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If the Fates Allow (Part 1)

A/N: Hi everyone! This is the first oneshot in a family series I’ve been meaning to start for a really, really, really long time with my oc, Evan, and Harry. They’re not in chronological order, but I’ll try my best to organize them well. I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you have any comments, questions, concerns, or lifelong ambitions, please feel free to ask! I also would like to thank @trulymadlysydney , @bribe-the-door , and @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy for beta reading this before it went up. They’ve been amazing. 

Also: Please do NOT post this anywhere else. 

So without further adue, I present to you my second oneshot ever.


It all started out so innocent. One innocent question with no intent to harm how things were between them. Everything had been good. Well, more than good. It’d been wonderful for both of them. They loved each other. One innocent question had completely destroyed their safe haven and Evan wished she could take it back.

“What do you want in the future? Like, do you want the big house with the lush garden and little ones running around in it? Do you want to get married? All that jazz.” She’d thought nothing of it at the time, and neither did he, really. Sure, the question kind of blindsided him, but neither of them would have even guessed to have been blindsided by the worms opening this can brought. 

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He’s with Me

This is it! Part2 to “He has Someone Else” !! It can be read as a stand alone though. 

Plot: Harry cheated on his girlfriend, this is him dealing with her having left him for it.

Warnings: It made me sad. Also: It has a few smutty bits.

Pic isn’t mind sadly. It’s hot though.

I didn’t need to open my eyes to realize she was gone. Her absence was felt as clearly as the soft breeze coming in through the window. It doesn’t take a person’s sight to know and when their soulmate has left, all warmth leaves too. The skin feels so cold, goosebumps rise and breathing hurts. My eyes opened and squeezed shut against the bright light illuminating the bedroom, and I turned to rest on my back with a groan. I’d forgotten how annoying that could be in the morning, given how I hadn’t slept in this bed recently, but rather spent my nights on the couch instead. I also wished I weren’t naked. Not by any means because I regretted the sex Y/N and I had had the night before, but because I imagined a pajama would protect me against at least some of the cold.

My fingers hesitantly reached over to the side on which I’d seen Y/N sleep only a few hours ago when a nightmare had pulled me from my sleep at some point throughout the night, and a heavy feeling settled onto my heart when the mattress’s fabric didn’t even feel warm anymore. She must’ve been gone for a long while already.

I knew what this meant, it was the first thought coming to my head, but instead of accepting it, my brain did the natural and most human thing to do: it went to denial.

Y/N could have gone anywhere, I decided. It didn’t have to mean what I believed it did. Deep down I believed she was gone. Gone as in out of my life.
Maybe we’d run out of that tea she liked so much and always insisted on drinking in the morning or else the entire day was doomed, but when I thought about it, I couldn’t have said if that still was her habit at all. I hadn’t watched her drink that tea, or any tea, in a very long time.
I hissed at the cold feeling of the floor against my bare feet as I came to a rather tumbling stand, but I didn’t allow myself to gain my balance fully before quickly reaching down to the floor so I could reach for and pull up my boxers from last night. I’d change into new ones after a shower, I decided. Maybe Y/N would even join me once she was back?
I walked into the hall of our house from where I had a view into the kitchen and living room. Both were deserted.

“Y/N?” I called out regardlessly, fear cursing though my veins and paralyzing my body.

She could not have left. Nothing would ever bring her to do that, I knew it. Or didn’t I? Had I been wrong all this time that I believed to know for sure, that she’d always be waiting at home for me? Had my certainty been misplaced when I had believed she’d never abandon me, even though I had abandoned her?
She loved me. I’d seen it in her eyes whenever I’d allowed mine to find her’s for a moment, noticing how her gaze had followed my every movement. I’d felt in in every touch we’d shared the night before, how she’d clung onto me and kissed me as if I were the only thing that kept her breathing. Her love was ever present, like a comforting coat embracing me whenever I came home to her. It was a simple truth that promised me Y/N’s loyalty for always. But… hadn’t I broken that very same promise too? And wasn’t I still in love with her regardlessly?

My heart had still belonged to her when I’d given my body to someone else. And still, it’d be a lie to say I’d thought of her throughout the act. It hadn’t been her face that I pictured, but the one of the woman I was hovering over and when she whined my name I hadn’t compared it to the sound Y/N made when we had sex. For those few moments, it was almost as if Y/N had left my mind entirely and given it enough space for my thoughts to be clouded by the woman I was with and only her. It was her touch I craved in those moments and only her scent I wanted to cloud my head. Not Y/N’s.

Maybe Y/N had left to get us breakfast? She’d done that before on special occasions. Us finding each other again surely counted as such, right? Perhaps she’d gone to get some of those avocado and cream cheese bagels the cafe down the road sold, aware of how much I loved them. A smile pulled at the corner of my mouth and I turned to walk back into the bedroom. I’d change quickly and then go make smoothies for the both of us, I decided, wanting to contribute at least something. My fingers pushed the hangers to the side in search for the particular shirt I had in mind and frowned when I couldn’t find it anywhere. This was odd. I remembered distinctly how I’d hung the Styles shirt right next to the light blue one Y/N’d given me a few months back, but there was no trace of it. Actually there was no trace of the blue shirt either. A frown formed on my forehead and suddenly I noticed how there were shirts hung up, which I knew I usually kept folded in my drawers. It just kept getting stranger, because where had those spare hangers suddenly come from?
That’s when it finally sunk in. More of my cloths fit into the wardrobe, because hers weren’t there anymore.
My feet hastily carried me to the bathroom where my eyes scanned the two glasses, holding toothbrushes and toothpaste. Only that it was just one toothbrush and that was mine. Her light green one, for which I always teased her as it looked like it was made for a child, was no were to be seen. Next I searched the drawers and again, found that all of my products where lined up neatly and all of Y/N’s missing. By now hands shook so hard the bottle of my cologne almost dropped to the floor and I quickly sat it back down to the spot which Y/N’s body spray had originally occupied.

“Huh,” I hummed to myself.

My palms momentarily pressed to my cheeks and rubbed the skin and though sleep still clouded my head, I could think clearly. There was no denying that the realization of Y/N leaving me and with that ending our relationship, hurt. It had me feel a pain I found difficult to describe, showing itself with headaches and a heavy chest. Why, I couldn’t understand.
Y/N’s I realized, was stronger than I believed she was and much stronger than I thought she was. It wasn’t out of vanity that I didn’t doubt her love in me, it was a truth I knew better than my own name, yet it hadn’t kept her from leaving.
I’d believed us sleeping together the night before had meant that our souls had found to each other again. To me, it had felt as if I had been drifting for the past few months and finally she’d come to take my hand and lead me out of the dark. But now she was gone, just as if none of it had meant one bit to her.
How heartless, I thought, before a tiny voice at the back of my head piped in, reminding me how I had been selfish in the first place by being unfaithful.

But last night… it changed everything. We’d fallen in love all over again.

“Maybe it was just me,” I whispered to myself, “and she slept with me, knowing all along that she’d leave the next morning.”

I shook my head, wondering what hurt more, losing her by choice or losing her without getting a goodbye.

*Flashback to four months earlier*

The bar had been crowded enough for me to struggle whilst following Nick, who led me towards the counter where they sold drinks. It had been about time for us to catch up, I’d decided the day before and knowing Nick I knew he’d be up for us going out. So I’d left Y/N with a sweet kiss on the lips and met with my old friend at a bar.

“Here’s to a good friday night!” Nick yelled over the music as he handed me a shot while downing his own.

It was one of many shots I drank, followed by several cocktails and finally I was so drunk I couldn’t tell what it was that burned my throat.
My vision blurred and my body buzzed as I danced to the loud music, allowing myself to surrender to the heavy beat.
That was when I’d felt her. She pressed her hands to my chest from behind, forcing me to turn around and look at her. She was tall, taller than any girl I’d been with before, but I still loomed over her. A smile played on her red lips and I felt my stomach flutter when she pulled my hands forward to rest on her slim hips. Before I could comprehend what happened, the strange woman pressed herself against my body and we danced together. She could move well and I moaned whenever her lips pressed to my exposed neck, nipping and biting on the skin.
This was wrong, I thought, but her hands roaming my chest kept me from moving away. She was beautiful with full, plumb lips, a lovely face and hair redder than I’d ever seen it on anyone before.

“Harry?”

I turned around to face Nick, who’s facial expression looked anything but amused.

“I think we should go home. You’ve had enough.”

I shook my head and groaned when the girl moved herself against me a little rougher.

“I’m good, but you can leave if you want.”

“Harry,” Nick urged, “What about Y/N?”

Y/N. The name should have brought me back to reality immediately and awakened the love I held for her. A name, that should remind me of the face I looked at first thing in the morning and to which my life mission of making it smile every day was dedicated to. Mentioning Y/N should have woken me up. But it didn’t.

“What about her?” I asked and though Nick continued to protest it didn’t take more than me snapping at him, for him to leave.

My hands moved from the woman’s hips down to cup her bum and I laughed when she hiccuped, indicating that she wasn’t much more sober than I was. In response, she clung to my body even tighter, coming so close I could feel her breathing against my neck hotly.
I couldn’t remember how we ended up in my car, but we did and after I sent the driver away, claiming we’d be fine to drive in a bit anyway, we settled into the front seats.

“Maybe I should get us an Uber,” I suggested, “One to take the both of us home.”

“We could do that,” she hummed, smiling widely, “but I have a better idea.”

Her hand moved on my thigh, circling and squeezing it before rising higher and to my crotch. I cursed and she laughed, throwing back her head. She shifted in her seat so she had better access to my body and when I looked at her pretty features and felt her fingers move over my growing hard on, the words I’d wanted to tell her disappeared from my head. I have a girlfriend. We can’t do this.
Instead, all I could focus on was the excited buzz and the lust taking over my senses until I couldn’t think straight.
My own hand reached forward and clasped her chin, bringing her close so I could connect our mouths in a heavy kiss, making it the first kiss I shared with a different woman than Y/N in over two years. The girl was quick to comply and moved her warm and full lips with mine, licking into my mouth and battling my tongue for dominance, letting me taste alcohol and smoke she must have consumed earlier. I groaned at the unfamiliarity and she moaned loudly, her hands driving me crazy as she continued to rub over me.

“Harry,” she whined into my ear before pressing kisses to my jaw, “let me help you, yeah? Let’s fix that problem you’ve got.”

Before I could say anything, she began to undo my belt while giggling against my lips. Her eyes locked with mine momentarily and a dangerous smile danced on her face, then she pressed another wet kiss to my cheek and leaned down so she could take me into her mouth. And I let her. Gladly, even, as she made me feel good. My eyes were squeezed shut as I concentrated on the pleasure I was feeling, which was easy to do as it overtook all of my senses. When I came wetly I didn’t feel guilty one bit, but rather amazed how she swallowed it all with no protest.

“Let me,” I panted and reached down to pull her up, “I wanna reciprocate.”

I hissed when she moved to sit on my softening length, sensitive from her touch and my heart throbbed heavily in my chest. Her slender arms wrapped around my neck and she leaned in close, brushing her mouth over mine.

“No need,” she whispered against my lips before kissing them lightly, “We can do that next time.”

When I got home that night, Y/N was asleep on our couch and I found myself unable to stop staring at her. I liked how her eyelashes threw small shadows onto her cheeks and smiled at how pink her soft lips looked. She hummed faintly when I traced my fingers over her delicate features and squirmed, but didn’t awaken. In that moment, for the first time since dropping off the woman, who’s name I learned was Cici, at her apartment, I felt regret. Regret, followed by raw guilt as it only now truly sink in.

“I just cheated on you,” I whispered, looking down at my beautiful girlfriend, sleeping innocently.

Oh god. What had I done? Didn’t I love that woman laying before me more than I’d ever loved anyone in my life? Hadn’t I promised her to be with her and only her? A bling, coming from my phone brought my attention back onto my device which I held tightly in my other hand.

Tonight was fun. Call me whenever you need me to help you out again. ;) Cici xxx

*Back to present time*

My head ached and I throbbed as I declined the fifth call I’d received from Cici today. I hadn’t had a problem with taking her calls in my home before, but now that Y/N had actually been chased away by my affair, it felt wrong. This house… Cici just didn’t belong here.
I jumped up when the front door opened, hope spreading through me, only for my heart to sink quickly when it wasn’t Y/N who’d come in, but her friend. Kate. Her eyes met mine only briefly before she straightened up and raised her head high.

“I’m only here to get some of Y/N’s things out of your dirty grasp,” she spoke arrogantly.

A lump formed in my throat and made it difficult for me to talk, leaving me no other choice but to silently nod. Kate glanced at me one more time before making her way to the stairs and disappearing around the corner. I was about to reach for the door to push it close when another body pushed itself through the gap. Familiar eyes met mine and an apologetic smile was offered.

“Nick?” I asked, surprised since he and Kate weren’t familiar with each other, at least as far as I knew.

“Hey man.”

He clapped me on the shoulder before walking past me so he could follow Kate upstairs. I stayed standing by the door. What the hell had just happened?

“Nick!” I called out.

“Leave us alone, Harry!”

It was Kate who called back, her head appearing from the bedroom door. Taking two stairs at a time I reached them in seconds. Kate was now standing by our bed, roaming though Y/N’s nightstand and I watched her with confusion as I struggled to comprehend what was going on.

“Kate,” I mumbled and reached out a hand to her, “stop.”

My voice didn’t sound like my own and I frowned at its raw and broken sound. Kate’s eyes met Nick’s, who stood behind me, before settling on my face.

“Why?” she asked and put down the books she was holding.

Y/N’s books. Kate crossed her arms and raised her perfect eyebrows, looking at me with nothing but hatred in her eyes.

“Y/N isn’t coming back, Harry. She’s done with you and the poor excuse of a boyfriend you were.”

“Kate,” Nick spoke calmly, as if trying to warn her not to hit a nerve.

But it was already done and I felt cold and tense all over as her words hit me like a slap to the face.
If Kate said it, it must be true, I realized, my thoughts cursing through my head so fast it was hard to grasp them.

“She’s not?” I asked.

“No, you idiot, of course she’s not!”

Kate pushed her long and blonde locks out of her face so I had a clear view on her rolling her eyes at my desperate words. She leaned down and picked the books she’d held back up and walked past me without uttering another word. This felt like a punch to the gut, somehow humiliating as she treated me like I was far below her, unworthy of more of her attention. When I turned around to face Nick he had trouble looking at me. It was only now that I noticed how we hadn’t actually seen each other since the night at the bar and after I’d told him about my infidelity via text, he hadn’t contacted me anymore at all. Now he stood before me, his shoulder slightly slacking and his eyes looking anywhere but at me.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” I said quietly, “You’re the one who told her, right?”

Nick bit his lip and nodded. “She was always a good friend to me, you know?”

“I get it,” I interrupted him, before he could form an apology or explanation.

I really did understand him and why he’d done it. He had a better sense of what was right and wrong than me. Nick smiled gently and muttered a quiet goodbye, before stuffing the few shirts he’d collected into his bag and exiting the room as well. I’d realized a lot today. One of it was that I had been blind for a very long time. And the second was a fact which slowly began to sink in, a little more each hour I spent without Y/N. Y/N would never be coming back to me and it would tear apart my heart.

….

It had been clear to me from very early on, that Y/N and I would fall into a greater, deeper and more consuming love than either of us had ever felt before. This had brought a sense of fear with it, as well as more joy than I could’ve even begin to describe.
We’d only been seeing each other for a few months when I’d let the magical three words fall from my lips. It had happened by accident, a declaration made after Y/N had just made me laugh so hard my belly hurt. To my great relief she’d reciprocated the words with no hesitation, making me the happiest person and us the happiest couple we could have become.
Y/N was by the far the most beautiful person I’d ever met. She’d easily caught my eye when I’d first saw her and after having spoken to her for the entire evening, I’d not only learned about her kind heart and good sense of humor, but had also began to notice how her eyes crinkled cutely when she smiled or how insanely kissable her lips looked. In fact, her beauty had somehow increased the longer we’d spent time together. Soon my heart had been aching for her affection, hands had started to itch to touch her and mind had burned to know more about her.  
Time passed and we’d grown so close, soon we were called inseparable by all of our friends. I’d loved her with all of my heart back then and had been certain that she’d love me just as much. Now I was left wondering when I’d stopped wanting to lay the word to her feet and instead put my most selfish needs first.

Sex with Cici was a lot different than sex with Y/N was. Her touch was rough as she often liked holding me down whilst she took over pace and rhythm, forcing the both of us to an orgasm quickly. Cici’s lips liked to bite and nip on my skin, leaving marks wherever she could reach me and when she was done she didn’t waste any time with affectioned embraces, but got to her feet and continued with her day, leaving me laying sweaty and still panting on her bed or wherever it was we did it. It was clear to the both of us that it was her who set the tone in our ‘relationship’. And it was clear that she wanted nothing from me, but my body, just like I didn’t want anything else from her either.  
Sex with Y/N was… as corny as it may sound, us proclaiming our love to each other. Her hands held on to me tightly, but never rough and without leaving marks. She kissed my lips with such intensity, it was sometimes her lips that stole my breath, rather than the pleasure. Not that she wasn’t great in bed or that it didn’t feel good, because it certainly did. It was a kind of pleasure more intense than any I’d ever felt before, even with Cici, however with Y/N, said pleasure didn’t come first. We didn’t sleep with each other to please our needs. Y/N and I had sex so we could become as connected to each other as it was humanly possible, wanting to have each other close.
So why had I needed another woman to satisfy my needs? I couldn’t tell. And I’d often wondered what I believed I were missing shortly after having slept with Y/N.
Perhaps I’d searched for more due to how easygoing Cici was with it all. She gave me head whenever I wanted her to and didn’t complain when I stopped by at her apartment in the middle of the night, asking her for a quick shag. Of course, in return, I had to be willing to comply when she called me, ordering me over so she could have her way with me. It happened this way more often, than me asking for her. She couldn’t get enough. Cici was cold and didn’t care and over time, I feared I’d become the same.

….

My closed fist met the wooden door with such force a stinging pain cursed from my knuckles up my arm, making me hiss. I didn’t stop though and continued to knock loudly. Finally the door flung open and there she was, my beautiful Y/N.
Her hair was a mess, sticking out into every direction, but I couldn’t pay much attention to it as my eyes instantly found her sleepy and swollen ones. They widened when she recognized me and I acted quickly, pushing my foot between the door and its frame, stopping her from closing the door again. She cursed and whined, pushing furiously at the handle.

“Please,” I begged, my voice thin and faint, “hear me out.”

She didn’t speak. She didn’t even look at me, but instead turned away her head and began pushing against the wood as hard as she could. My foot ached but I couldn’t give up now.

“Y/N, baby, I-”

I was interrupted by a loud sound, a mixture between a hiss and cry that made the blood freeze in my veins. It almost sounded inhumane and was a declaration of utter frustration and pain. Finally, the beautiful eyes I had missed and longed for so badly met my gaze with a burning intensity. Y/N’s lovely lips were set into a thin line and though she didn’t try to push the door shut anymore, her hard stare was enough to make me feel unwelcome.

“How dare you come here?” she asked, her voice so tense with anger it cut into my soul, “Huh? Is this the moment I’m supposed to jump into your arms and forget what happened? Forget what you did to me?”

I swallowed hard, desperately searching for the right words. “Y/N, I understand you don’t want me here. Of course you don’t, but I beg you to hear me out still.”

“Forget it,” Y/N replied coldly, “You are the last person I could ever want to see and there is no reason for you to be here anyway!”

“There isn’t?” I asked, my voice suddenly incredibly small.

I hadn’t been stupid enough to believe she wasn’t beyond angry with me, but god had I underestimated how much her rejection would hurt. My lungs ached as breathing became difficult and my sweaty palms shook heavily. If she would have punched me it would have been more pleasant. When a humorless laugh fell from her lips, I felt as if she’d spit in my face. Y/N shook hear head, an insincere smile pulling at her mouth.

“No, there isn’t,” she said, “I am here! This means there is no room for you! There will never be a "Harry and Y/N” ever again as there is no scenario in which I’d forgive you.“

"Please.”

The pleading word fell from my mouth before I could stop it.

“Did you think I would take you back? That I would still want you?” Y/N asked, “After you fucked someone else behind my back for month! And after I didn’t even find out through you, but was told by one of your friends!”

Yes. That had been exactly what I’d hoped for. I’d known it would be difficult, if not nearly impossible, but never completely ridiculous to believe. I’d been sure, that her and I would somehow be good again. But now, looking at her, it finally sunk in how mistaken I’d been. She’d never come back. The night we’d spent with each other had meant nothing, certainly not us vowing our love to each other.
I didn’t find it in me to feel ashamed for the tears slipping from my eyes. She had every right to see me cry, see how hurt I was, too. Maybe it would give her some satisfaction to see me in pain for once as it was just what I deserved and had brought onto myself. It was only fair, wasn’t it? I’d heard her cry more times than I could count, late at night when I came home to find her curled up in our bed, her entire frame shaking. And that was only if  I came home. There had probably been many more moments where I’d made her cry, without being there to notice. Without being there to at least face her pain. A sob wrecked through me and I lowered my gaze to my feet, too ashamed to look at her any longer.

“Harry-”

“Please, Y/N,” I spoke shakily, “I need you to not hate me. That’s all I can ask. Please don’t hate me.”

She stayed silent after I uttered those words and I could feel her eyes on me, but I didn’t dare look up. I was too much of a coward.

“Please calm down,” Y/N sighed, yet not sounding annoyed,  really.

Hesitantly I looked at her and noticed how she was biting the inside of her cheek, something she always did when she was nervous.
I realized that she didn’t know how to deal with the situation either. She may have got herself a nice apartment and sorted it all out, but me appearing at her door shook her more than she liked to admit. When her orbs wandered back to find mine, I tried my best to keep her gaze, too afraid I’d never get them to look at me again if I let this bond break.
Sighing, she moved so I could enter the small space behind her and with weak legs I followed her into the living room, letting the door fall shut behind us.

“Looks nice,” I muttered.

She didn’t reply, but instead walked over to the sofa where her phone was, picked it up and began dialing.

“What are you doing?” I asked quietly, still unable to stop the tears from wetting my cheeks.

I took my time to muster her and how pretty she looked. The jumper falling from her shoulders gave her appearance a cuddly look and I, much like the first time we’d met, itched to reach out and hold her in my arms.

“I’m calling you a taxi,” she informed me quietly, “You’re too wound up to drive and you staying here certainly isn’t an option.”

My tongue felt heavy as I slowly spoke: “You won’t even listen.”

“It wouldn’t change anything if I did,” she replied, but set the phone to the side regardlessly.

She was so beautiful. And kind and loving and simply too good for me to have ruined her the way I had done. I watched her walk over and take a seat on one of the chairs by her table and noticed that it was the very same chair she used to drink her tea on when it had still stood in our kitchen. Our chair.

“Your moving men came last week to get what Nick and Kate couldn’t carry,” I muttered, even though she already knew that of course.

“They didn’t charge too much,” Y/N said emotionless, “I even got a discount when I explained that they were helping me escape an asshole of a boyfriend.”

She flinched when I moved closer to her and before either of us could properly react I was kneeling before her, grasping one of her hands in mine tightly and crying onto her skin.

“I’m begging you,” I whimpered, “my life can’t exist without you in it.”

“Harry,” Y/N winced but I didn’t give her a chance to reject me again.

“I’ll do whatever it is you want! Please, Y/N. Move to your favorite place in the world, quit my job, get us whatever pet it is you want! Even if it’s a llama or something else that’s completely ridiculous to keep in a city household. Anything, Y/N, please-”

“Delete the last four and a half months, Harry!” Y/N yelled, “Maybe I’d forgive you then!”

My body jumped back at the sudden raise in her voice and its volume. She forcefully pulled her fingers from my grasp.

“You cheated on me! You can’t even imagine what that felt like! What it still feels like everyday when I look into the mirror, when I stand there and ask myself what the hell it is that is so wrong with me you had to do this!”

“It’s not your fault, Y/N, I swear! It had nothing to do with you-”

“Sure it didn’t.”

The finality in her voice made me shut up and a new wave of pain and tears hit me as I truly saw what I’d caused. She shook her head and pushed my hands from her lap, as if too disgusted to have me touch her.

“Didn’t the night we spent together mean anything to you?”

I felt bad for not being able to keep the judgmental tone out of my voice, especially as I was probably the last person allowed to accuse her for using me for sex.
Something in her eyes widened and I knew I’d struck a nerve.

“Of course it meant something to me,” she whispered and I whimpered when she reached out to touch my cheek, just like she’d done that night. The gesture held so much comfort it caused another few tears to slip from my eyes.

“But Harry,” Y/N continued, holding my gaze with a raw kindness in her gaze, “It meant goodbye.”

Goodbye. It meant that we were done, our relationship dead and to never be revived again. All the nights we’d spent laughing together, cuddled up in bed while sharing our most sacred secrets, they were all gone. She’d never embrace me form behind while I was selecting a shirt, cuddling herself against my naked back again. Y/N would never drink her tea while I made her breakfast, again. And above all, I would never again hear her tell me she loved me.

“Goodbye,” I whispered, looking at my beautiful angel before me, “Okay.”

Without speaking any further I got to my feet and cleared my throat. She rose from her seat as well and looked at me expectantly.

“You don’t have to call a taxi,” I mumbled, “I’ll drive, it’s okay. Can I just quickly use the bathroom?”

“Sure,” she spoke and cleared her throat, pointing me to the hall to her right. “It’s the first door on the left.”

“Thanks”

With heavy feet I made my way to the small bathroom, but instantly tensed when I heard the sound of my familiar ringtone erupt from where I’d placed my jacked on the couch. Shit. I knew exactly who it was, it could only be her.
Before I could react, the ringing ended and Y/N’s small and uncertain voice spoke: “Who is it?”

Silence. My heart jumped so badly it might as well have flown from my chest. She audibly gasped when the voice on the other end of the line introduced herself. Knowing Cici she’d probably said something inappropriate like “his dick sucker” or some shit that had my stomach turn and vomit raising in my throat.

“Yes, this is his phone. He’s gone to the bathroom.”

I wanted to interrupt her so badly, finding it hard to even imagine what she must feel talking to the woman I’d had an affair with. But a part of me, a tiny selfish little part, wanted to know what she’d say. Would she send Cici out of my life? Would the reality of there being another woman, make Y/N fight for me?

“I’m Y/N,” she continued, her voice, while tense and strained, stayed very collected, “I’m his ex girlfriend.”

I leaned forward so I could glance at her form where I stood. She sat with her back tensed and her fingers shook heavily. There were tears rising in her eyes, but she blinked them away.

“He’s with me,” she said and suddenly sounded much more confident.

Maybe there still was a chance for us, the selfish part of me rejoiced, but was shut down quickly when she spoke her next words:

“Don’t worry, though. You can have Harry. He’s not mine anymore.”

Thank you for reading!! Hope you liked it. Feedback as well as requests are welcome. :) 

Rest of what I wrote can be found here:
 http://harryimaginedstories.tumblr.com/post/144920695218/masterlist

anonymous asked:

Brand new neighbours au prompt for winteriron, Where Bucky is smitten with Tony but Tony is oblivious, always in a hurry to reach college and complete his work. And can we have a worried Maria Stark who fusses over Tony and teaches Howard a lesson when he acts nonchalant. Steve finds it all very hilarious. Because he just can't get over his best friend's face whenever he talks about Tony. Happy ending.

AN: It took me like, a year, but I finally did it. XD



“Steve.” Only a grunt answered him, so Bucky reached out to give his shoulder a good smack. “Steve.”

“I don’t care.”

“Stevie-”

“I don’t care, Buck. I don’t care what he’s doing or what he’s wearing or any of that. I have to get this piece done. You can tell me aaaaall about the day in the life of your crush when I finish, okay?”

“But Stevie. He’s trying to do dishes again.” Deadline or no, Steve practically threw his sketchbook away and turned on the couch to kneel next to Bucky. Across the way, easily seen through the big open windows of their neighbor’s kitchen, they could see Tony. Not that they’d ever been introduced - the only reason Bucky knew his name was because he’d heard the guy’s mom say it about twenty times in her lecture on how to be an adult before she’d tearfully left him on his own. The lesson hadn’t stuck apparently, because every time the guy tried to do something even a little domestic, it tended to end in catastrophe.

He had lost power three times that Bucky had noticed - because the lights were usually on all night, so the sudden turning off of ALL of them had been a pretty big hint. Not because he was like, a stalker or a peeping Tom or anything. Anyway. The plumber’s van had been parked outside maybe five times, and the cops had come around seven times because Tony had forgotten to turn off his alarm system after walking into his house. There’d been two nights when Bucky’d woken up because of screeching alarms of approaching firetrucks - each time his heart had pounded with fear until Tony wandered out into the suddenly-bright night looking both irritated and sooty. Bucky didn’t know about the rest of the house, but his view into Tony’s kitchen was really good, and he’d seen the man wander away in the middle of cooking dinner only to run back in an hour later to find it reduced to charcoal. He’d seen the guy sweep half the room before suddenly zipping away, tripping over the dropped broom when he finally wandered back. Tony had flooded the kitchen ten times because he didn’t know how to use the dishwasher properly and seemed to have some sort of moral objection to doing them by hand.

Tony’d moved in two weeks ago.

Keep reading

When Eyes Meet: Part 2

Description: At twenty-three Kit became a mother to her three siblings. Thrown into motherhood, she’s been learning to juggle two teenagers and a boy genius for the past two years, and she hasn’t quite gotten it down. So of course fate decides to through in another ball to juggle.

In a world where everyone is born with Heterochromia; One eye color is yours and the other is your soulmates, and when you meet your eyes become your own. Of course Kit couldn’t get someone normal, instead she gets a known billionaire playboy, with trust issues. Then add in superheroes and tights, because her life wasn’t complicated enough.  

Random Facts, Character Sheet

Prologue, Part 1


Kit was surprisingly fast when she wanted to be. And as she sprinted back inside the house and into the kitchen, she was convinced that she had never been faster. A phone call from Ms. Montgomery, her downstairs neighbor and part time babysitter, had led to an unexpected break. Two minutes into the call, she knew hell on earth had erupted, between Aki’s crying over Seth, Natsume reading under the sink, and Seth having snuck out, she knew she was in for a long night.

    She’d managed to talk Aki down to suitable sniffles, and she’d been on her way to talking Natsume out from under the sink when she’d felt eyes on her. She’d turned her head expecting to see a squirrel or rabbit, instead she’d met a set of eyes she’d know anywhere.

    The white light that had enveloped the man had been amazing, a sense of warmth had spread through her, and she’d felt that same fluttering in her heart that her mother had always described.

    Then she’d let out a curse and she had run. She had too much to do to deal with a soulmate. And really what man would want to be stuck with three kids and no social life? She’d seen the man, he was in his twenties, just because she had given up a life outside of her family didn’t mean she was going to make someone else do the same.

    She slipped through the kitchen with stealth that came from years of practice. She stopped long enough to tell her sous chef to take over, before slipping out. Diane was a different story. The woman had a knack for noticing anything that could lead to a juicy tidbit of gossip. The fact that Kit’s eyes were now the same color was not something Diane was going to gloss over.

    “Not now, Diane.”

    Her best friend scoffed, “As if that’s going to deter me.”

    Kit took a deep breath, “I’m leaving.”

    Diane’s eyes narrowed, “Leaving? We still have dessert to get through, and a soulmate for you to spill about.”

    Kit nodded, before pulling on her coat, “Noted. I already gave Randall directions, he’ll have no problems with dessert, and there’s no way I’m discussing the other thing right now.”

    “Randall is power hungry, and a last minute replacement for Leo, who is fabulous.”

    Kit blinked at her best friend, “Once again, noted. That’s why I’m trusting you to keep him in his place. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

    “He’ll spread rumors about you leaving, try to drum up business for himself.”

    “Seth snuck out again.”

    Diane’s hands went to her hips, “And he’ll sneak back in, like he always does. So let’s just be honest here, you’re running from your soulmate which is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard. He’s your soulmate, your other half, and if anyone deserves that it’s you.”

    “Diane… I just can’t right now.”

    Kit watched as Diane pursed her lips, “You can’t run forever.”

    “I can try.”

    Diane let out a deep breath before waving her off, “Fine. Go. I’ll cover for you. Go find your delinquent brother.”

    Kit smiled before leaving the mansion. She drove the path home on autopilot, with her brain spinning a million miles per minute. As she trudged her way up the stairs and into the apartment, she couldn’t help but feel old.

    Ms. Montgomery was reading on the couch, and gave her a small smile as she came in. “Rough night?”

    Kit let her bag drop by the door before sitting down next to the woman, “You could say that.”

    Ms. Montgomery studied her for a second before nodding. “Definitely a long night.”

    “How were they?”

    “Same as usual. Natsume is still under the sink, not sure if he’s reading or sleeping. Aki is on the phone with Maia, and has been since you hung up, and Seth is still gone.”

    Kit nodded, before scrubbing her eyes with her hands. “I’ll give him another hour before I go searching. Do you have any idea what set him off?”

    “Not a clue, honey. That boy is so touchy right now… ”

    “He nearly got suspended again the other day.”

    “That would be the third time.”

    “He’s also been kicked off the baseball team, he was caught smoking the other day, and I am just so tired…”

    Ms. Montgomery gave her a small smile, “It will get better.” Kit nodded, before escorting the woman out. Ms. Montgomery had been good friends with her mother. She had lived in the building longer than her family had, and was a probations officer for the city. She’d helped handle some of Seth’s more angry outbursts, and Kit was grateful for it.

    With nothing left to do, Kit changed into jeans and a hoodie, and made her way to Aki’s room. She stuck her head in the door to see the girl pacing, cellphone glued to her ear. She waited to be noticed, and received a shoo away hand motion for her efforts. Pulling away, she closed the door and made her way to the kitchen.

    Crouching in front of the cabinet that housed part of the sink. She knocked once and received nothing. Quietly she opened the door to find her youngest brother fast asleep, his book hugged close to his chest. Carefully, she scooped the kid out from under the sink and carried him to his bed. She tucked him in, before going back to the living room. She waited for the hour to pass, and when it was up, she heaved herself up and checked on Aki and Natsume before walking next door. Ms. Montgomery promised to keep and ear out for the two sleeping kids, and Kit stumbled into the Gotham winter.

    There were several places Seth tended to go when he snuck out. And in the next two hours Kit hit all of them. They were skeevy places were Gotham’s less desirables hung out. They were places where her father had warned her to never go.

    And the last place was the worst of them all. It was an illegal gambling ring where street fights were conducted. Pulling her hood closer to her head, she bypassed the man at the door and made her way inside.

    The warehouse was filled with screaming and chanting people. It took some effort, but eventually she was able to make her way to the front. What she saw there chilled her to the bone. Kit watched as a man twice her brother’s size beat him into the ground. She made to surge forward, but a hand on her arm kept her from moving.

    Another arm went around her waist, and she found herself being lifted and carried away. She was so shocked that by the time she started struggling she was already outside of the crowd, and being put down. Spinning she was ready to lash out when she met blue eyes that she’d know anywhere.

    “Do you have a death wish?”

    Kit blinked several times in shock, before asking, “How the hell did you find me?”

    A dark eyebrow raised in question, “My question first.”

    Kit glowered at the man, her soulmate, “I don’t owe you anything.”

    She watched his arms cross against his chest, tightening the white button down. He was still dressed in remnants of his tux. The black slacks were wrinkled, the glossy black dress shoes were covered in dust, and his white shirt was unbuttoned at the top.

    With a sigh, she gave in, “My younger brother is currently getting the stuffing beat out of him. I need to get him out before they kill him.”

    She watched as one hand went to rub at his head, “So that’s a yes to the death wish.”

    Kit bristled, but before she could respond, he was pushing his way through the crowd. Kit followed, and watched as one minute he was there, and the next he was pushing the giant off of her brother.

    She listened as the crowd went quiet. Quietly, she snuck forward and sunk down next to Seth. He was beaten and bruised, and had more than a few broken bones. Cradling his head in her lap, she looked up to find her unnamed soulmate standing over the three hundred pound man who had been beating up her brother.

    There was a slight tear in his shirt, but other than that his clothes were fine. Even more interesting was the fact that he wasn’t even sweating. She watched as he walked back to her. Carefully, he scooped Seth up into a fireman’s hold and began walking out.

    A group of men moved to block the path. She watched him carefully, as he raised an eyebrow and said, “The police will be here in a matter of minutes. Do you really want to risk being here when they arrive?”

    Almost as if it were planned, a siren went off, and the crowd started to scatter. He continued walking forward, and Kit followed too stunned to do anything else. She watched as he loaded Seth into the car, before turning to her, “Do you want to ride with us or follow?”

    For a moment she stood there dumbfounded, before remembering who she was, “I’ll ride with you.”

    He nodded, “I’ll have someone come get your car later.” She nodded and climbed into the back with her brother.

    Every once in awhile Bruce allowed his eyes to stray to her in the rearview mirror. She was holding her brother close and he couldn’t blame her. The kid had been minutes away from death when he’d arrived. From what he could tell, the kid had several broken bones, a concussion, and internal bleeding. Surgery would be necessary. Luckily, he had Lee standing by.

He’d been more than a little shocked when she had run, but he had let her go. Their bond was strong, he could feel her through it. He could feel the worry, the stress, the exhaustion, and the fear. He’d excused himself from the party to find her. First he had located her on the security footage, and then he had gone searching for answers. He’d run a background check, gaining her family history, before seeking out the event coordinator.

Her name was Katherine Blair. She was the oldest of four children, and the custodial guardian of her three younger siblings. She ran Blair’s Flare Catering company, and had come so highly recommended that she had left Alfred with nothing to do.

The coordinator had seen him coming from a mile away. She hadn’t been willing to give him anything other than the fact that her brother was in trouble, and the few places he might be. She had also warned him to keep an eye out for Katherine; she had warned him that his soulmate was small but fiercely protective when it came to her siblings.

The truth had hit him like a ton of bricks when he’d seen her about to jump into the ring. And as he’d gone to take out the bastard picking on her brother, now his brother, he’d seen that there was no sidelining her.

He pulled in front of the emergency room, and stopped the car. Lee was waiting along with a surgical team and a gurney. His family had donated a lot to Gotham National over the years, and that came with certain perks every once in awhile.

He watched Katherine as the doctors unloaded her brother and rushed him inside. She watched them go before sinking down to sit on the curb. She put her head in her hands and he watched as her shoulders started to shake.

Silently, Bruce sat down next to her and took her hand in his. Her soul was calling to his, to be comforted, to be held, to be supported. He opened the link between them and allowed her emotions to flow through him; there was such a strong feeling of failure, mixed with tiredness, that he couldn’t help but wonder when her last break had been.

Gradually, her fingers tightened back with his, and she turned to face him. He looked at her tear stained face and did the only thing he could, he pulled her into his arms and settled her on his lap. She wrapped her arms around him, and he held her as close as he could, feeling complete for the first time since his parents had died.

The soulmate bond was something to be cherished. It provided a link between two people. Some people embraced it, others avoided it. You could either open the bond and share yourself or close it and leave it behind. There were some out there who hated the bond, and felt as though it took away their choice. Others spent their whole life waiting for it.

Bruce had always been taught to embrace it. His own parents’ bond had been steady and rock solid. His parents had seemed to understand each other without speaking, and had always exchanged little kisses. More than once, he and his parents had spent nights talking about the possible owner of the brown eye. Every memory he had that connected him to this woman was good. It was pure. It was what he wanted.

Kit took deep breaths, in an attempt to calm herself down. But it was hard, his scent surrounded her, and she wanted to bathe in it. She’d felt the bond open earlier, as he’d taken some of what she was feeling. It was embarrassing, this man she’d only known for a few hours, knowing how she felt. At the same time it was a relief. She hadn’t had anyone to lean on in years. She’d been shouldering everything since her parents had died, and the thought of having someone to share with made her happy.

As the last of the tears stopped, she pulled away from his chest, but didn’t move from his lap. She was craving the touch, the support. She hadn’t realized how empty and cold she’d been feeling until he had showed up.  She remembered her mother comparing it to a draft when her father was gone, as though there were always a slight chill in the air. She had found that odd, but she understood it now.

Abducted - 1

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: you were a normal person with a very normal life until you were abducted by a strange man.

A/N: ANGST!!! Here’s to hoping this series would get some love and people will like it. it’s a really dark introductory part. The series will be dark but will have some fluff. hope you like it!

Warnings: being hit, pain, being chained, abduction, wounds.

Word Count: 1653

Part 2

‘thank you!’ you gave the cashier a tired smiled and got out of the store. the day had been tiring, all you wanted to do was collapse in your bed and get something to eat. You were never comfortable to eat when people were around you. you just never liked the feeling of people’s eyes on you. so, with an empty stomach and tired eyes you made your way to the car.

The night was warm, the air felt thick that day. With not much of a breeze blowing, everything was dead silent. You liked the quiet, you could let your mind wander in the silence and think of great things or truly freighting ones.

A crackle of leaves pulled you out of your thoughts. You had thought you were alone there. With slightly furrowed eyebrows you looked around and found no one in sight. Maybe it was the wind? You continued walking on the empty street before you heard the noise again. you stopped and took in a sharp breath. Something was wrong.

‘always trust your instincts. if you thing something’s wrong, it is.’ You recalled the words you had probably heard or read somewhere. You clenched your jaw, tightened your grip of the brown bag in your hands and started pacing towards your car. You started to count to distract yourself from the scary thoughts.

One.

Someone was following you. you were sure now, you didn’t look back just picked up the pace.

Two.

You were running, but the footsteps followed. Your heart thumped as they neared.

Three.

‘Shit!’ you cursed under your breath as you fell.

Four.

You were struck with something in the back of the head.

  Blue disrupted your vison, you couldn’t tell if you were breathing for it was becoming so difficult. You tried to crawl but your senses betrayed you. you kept a hand on where you had been struck and with the last of your strength turned over to face your attacker. A tall man in green, an image you remember before your head made contact with the gravel and everything turned pitch black.

You were waking up, coming back to your senses. You shot your eyes open and immediately regret it as the bright lights burned your eyes. You rubbed the back of your head, the blow had been quiet hard and you could still feel a sharp pain. you groaned with closed eyes and slumped against the wall. You opened your eyes when you realized that this all was not a bad dream. It was a living nightmare. You started panicking as you looked around. You were in a warehouse, and as anyone with common sense would know a warehouse was never a good place to wake up at. with more examining you saw that you were in a basement with a scanty amount of furniture and a makeshift bed which you had been laying on.

Why would someone wish to abduct you out of everyone in the world? You weren’t important or filthy rich, then why?

You were overwhelmed, so many thoughts and possibilities were shouting in your mind. it all fell silent once you heard those familiar footsteps again.

There he was, the tall man in green. Raven hair slicked back, a dagger in hand, an attractive sharp face with piercing green eyes, he strutted towards you. he dawned a weird, ancient looking outfit of emerald green, black and gold.

‘hello, human.’ He tucked in the dagger and smiled at you almost tauntingly. He knelt to your level and you shuffled backwards. You could only do so to some extent for a chain around your ankle had you trapped. ‘ah, I apologise for that but you see it was quite necessary.’ He smirked. ‘now, let’s not waste much time.’ He looked at you intently and you gulped. ‘see, I have some plans and I can’t ensue them without assistance of someone like you.’ he explained and you listened for you had no other option. ‘so, think of yourself as my slave. A mere pawn I’ll be pushing around and using to do certain things. If you wish to live without being harmed, you do what I ask.’ He got up. ‘I shall talk to you later.’ He said before leaving.

You were frightened. You had never felt such fear in your life before. What did he plan to do? You brought your knees close to your chest and buried your head in your hands, hoping for the best, waiting for what had to come, you let out a quiet sob. He returned after a while and you looked at him.

‘hungry, human?’ he asked.

‘(y/n).’ you muttered. You were numb now, you didn’t feel anything now. If you were going to be here and possibly die, you might as well do it courageously.

‘what?’ he stepped forwards.

‘(y/n).’ you stated clearly. ‘my name is (y/n). not human.’ You looked directly in his eyes.

‘so, the kitten has claws,’ he grinned and brought his face close to yours. you didn’t move. ‘I like that.’ He looked in your eyes for a while and moved back. ‘let’s not get off topic, I want you to cook something. for the both of us.’ he snapped his fingers and the chain was unlocked. Your eyes grew wide, you had anticipated the situation wrongly.

  ‘it better be good.’ He started walking and motioned you to follow. It was hard to keep up with him with his long legs. The warehouse was completely different upstairs, it seemed like a well decorated house.

 No one could say it was a warehouse until they ignored the royal bed and furniture, heaps of book and the little cooking area. The only thing that gave it away were the old, blackening walls.

‘there.’ He said sternly and motioned towards the ‘kitchen’. You nodded and made your way to the kitchen. He did have quite a lot of supplies and even that grocery bag of yours. you made your favourite soup and toasted some bread. Fearing ‘his royalty’ wouldn’t be impressed by just that, you made a brownie in a mug and set it all in a tray for him and in the bowls for yourself.

You found him reading a book, sat in the chair and table near his bed. you kept the tray on the table and took a few steps bac. ‘wait,’ he kept the book down. ‘eat some of it first.’ He ordered and you obeyed. As you took the first bite you realised how hungry you were. You hadn’t eaten for so long. After tasting it all he motioned you to step back. He ate some of the soup and quirked his brows. ‘I am impressed.’ He looked at you. ‘you can go now, mortal.’ He said and you left.

With some food finally in your belly, you rested your head against the wall. Sorrow after some time fades, what scares you no longer is scary when you accept it. you weren’t scared now, just hollow. Hollowness was all you felt, all that occupied your little hell, your basement.

You were listening to the man, listening to his footsteps, his little movements, the flipping of pages, god you missed music. You would hear to your favourite songs and bad days would feel good. But it might so happen that you would never be able to hear to music again, made you realise that there were so many normal things you won’t be able to do now. You couldn’t live like that.

The bed’s dipping and a long silence that followed signified that he was asleep. It was your chance, a chance to possibly escape. But he could catch you and the situation might worsen.

You had to do something. you took in deep breath and stood up. you were going to escape. You tiptoed upstairs and found him asleep. You kept the bowl and plate aside and started to look for an exit when you saw a high window. You swiftly started climbing and reached it, this was it, you just had open the window now. You glanced at him and is motionless form assured you that you could go on. You started to unscrew the bolts when suddenly a force made you fall. But you never made contact with the floor.

‘you foolish, foolish girl.’ The man’s voice taunted. you were in his arms but he was also lying on the bed. the twin of the man vanished and you were left more confused. He carried you back to the basement. ‘tell me mortal,’ he asked, sarcasm evident in his voice. ‘did you really think you could escape?’ you didn’t reply. You feared this might have agitated him and it could mean some serious trouble for you.

‘i-I’ you tried to speak but the words won’t come out.

‘hush.’ He sat you on the dirty mattress and didn’t turn away his patronising gaze from you. he put the chain on your ankle again. your heart sank, you were back where you started. ‘I am Loki, the god of mischief. It will take a lot more than these little attempts to fool me.’ he said and moved closer. ‘you are not going away anywhere. Not unless I want you to. And trust me,’ he started walking away. ‘you are going to be here for a very long time.’ He stopped by the stairs. ‘sleep.’ he said and turned off the lights before leaving.

You punched the wall and threw your head back, you wanted to scream, you wanted to break free. But you couldn’t. you were trapped. You were, a personal hound now, a slave. you didn’t know anything else but this. !. you were abducted 2. The man who had abducted you was apparently the god of mischief, Loki. 3. He had some plans he wanted your help for. 4. There was no way to escape this.


TAGS: @marvel-fanfiction, @yikesbuckster

Poor Little Rich Girl-Part 4

This is an A/B/O AU

***Warning-aftermath of assault is discussed in case this is triggering for you****

Your father Lucifer is the Alpha of your pack and he rules your town with an iron fist.  He is forcing you to marry the son and heir of a rival pack.  It is 3 weeks before your wedding when you find out Sam Winchester is back.   Sam was your first love at 17, and when your father found out, he forced his family to leave town.  You haven’t spoken to him since.  What will happen when you see him again?

Characters: Alpha! Sam Winchester, Beta! Dean Winchester, Omega!Castiel Novak, Omega! Mary Winchester, Reader, Alpha! (Nick) Lucifer, Beta! Michael, Beta! Gabriel, Beta! Stephanie (OC), Alpha Eric (OC) Chuck (mentioned)

Master List

Introduction (all parts are linked)

Text messages are listed in Bold

I resisted the urge to spit on Eric as I walked away from hs moaning form on the ground.  My lip was split, and blood seeped from the edge of my mouth.  I was feeling slightly dazed from the adrenaline rush. I knew I wanted to put as much distance between Eric and me as possible, so I began to walk down the dirt road that led back to town.

My cell rang and I pulled it out of my pocket.  It was Steph.  “I just saw your text.  I’m still with Dean, we stopped for a drink.  What’s wrong?”

I coughed and spit out a mouthful of blood.  “Did Dean call Sam?” I asked.

“He isn’t picking up, but he’s sending him a text. Did something happen with Eric, Y/N?” She asked.

I sighed with fatigue.  “I’m walking on the lodge road towards town. Can you guys come get me?”  

Steph’s voice became muffled as she whispered something to Dean in a slightly panicked voice.  “Are you in danger?” She asked when she got back on the line.

I turned to look back toward the lodge with a panicked bark of laughter.  “The nicest thing I did to Eric was to tell him the engagement was off, so you might say that.”

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[Final: Yongguk Ver.] Tumbleweed, Her (M)#20 -  [BAP] Mafia!Au

Originally posted by bangstrgram

[A/N] Come to me, papi. I wrote three version of these, so it might get over lap somewhere because no one in this world writes three endings to a fanfic before. Tell me the version you liked.

Sometimes, painful things can teach us a lesson we didn’t think we needed to know. And of all the wretched things that happened, two made its mark on you. Two of it, of which, you will never forget.

People are lessons in disguise and every each that came into your life, meant to teach you something. Either it is about you, or about them, but there’s always something. Rage is never the solution, but it was the only way you could think of.

And in this final chapter, it started with a broken windshield of a black tinted car by a baseball bat that you held in your hands. You stand dignified on top of the hood of a car you knew belong to Jongup’s clan.

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Dream Come True (M)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader
Genre: Smut

A/N: So I was in my feelings last night, and decided to write about the lovely Kim Namjoon. If this happened, I don’t know what I would do….I don’t think my heart could handle it!! Admin Kook agrees.

-Admin Moon


“There will be rich people there,” Jen said as she tried to convince me to work tonight. “I don’t care how much money they have. I need to study,” I replied. We’d had this same conversation for the last four hours. “But it pays 20,000 won an hour.” That caused me to put my pen down, because I didn’t know that’s how much we were going to get paid. “Seriously?” She nodded her head. I closed my marketing textbook. “I’ll go, but only this one time. Next time I’m going to study, that’s what we came over here for.”

After I got dressed in one of our waitress uniforms, we headed out the door. Apparently the event tonight was an important event, put on by celebrities. As long as I got paid and he kept his hands to himself, I honestly didn’t care who it was. We walked up the the front door, but were turned away when security saw that we were just staff and not guests. Jen and I stopped dead in our tracks once we walked through the gates and saw the place.

It was massive and took up an entire street block. All the lights were on inside and out, making it a warm inviting glow. Both floors had large windows with the top floor having balconies all around. I could see why the hosts could afford to pay us double what we normally earned. The two of us were put straight to work once we were inside and started delivering hors d'oeuvre to the guests. The party took up several of the ground floor rooms and spilled over onto the platform outside. I balanced the plate of baked crab rangoon and made my rounds.

The guests dripped with money, because some of women were wearing of the biggest diamonds I’d ever seen in my life. It seemed a requirement for the men to have a Rolex in order to even get through the front doors. Just one alone would pay for my tuition for an entire year. After we’d been there for almost an hour, Jen tapped me on the shoulder. She was staring at something but I was too busy to look around. “That’s one of the guys who owns this place. He’s really handsome.” I had to see who she was salivating over. I turned around to see the man she was talking about, and when I recognized him I nearly dropped my platter. He was Kim Namjoon of BTS. I’d seen him in music videos, during group interviews and I had always been drawn to him. But never in my life did I think I was going to be in the same room as him.

I’d always thought all the groups members were gorgeous in their own way. But to me Namjoon, was one of those men who was charming under all circumstances. Just one wink and my knees would go weak. “I wonder if he’s single,” Jen continued. It annoyed me that she couldn’t take her eyes from him. “He’s not going to be interested in a twenty one year old American girl whose here for school. You better get back to work,” I admonished. He was single, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.

We both got back to work but my gaze kept going to Namjoon. He was making his rounds of the party, greeting guests and being his usual charismatic self. I longed to be one of the glamorous women he charmed but I was the waitress. Nothing but the staff. My path didn’t cross with Namjoon so he didn’t acknowledge my presence. A part of me was grateful for that, I wouldn’t know what to say to him. I was used to admiring him from afar, not up close and one on one. Toward the end of the night, I kept myself busy in the kitchen. Most of the food had been served so I just needed to prepare some dessert trays to be placed around the party.

My back was to the door when someone entered. “The plates are almost ready. You can take the first one out. I think there is a table by the pool it can go on.”

“I’m not here for the dessert.” The stern male voice startled me. I spun around and saw Namjoon standing a mere foot from me. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” His lips quirked into a smirk. “I’ve been trying to catch you alone all night, Y/N.”

“Oh, umm…How do you know my name?” He smirked, “It’s on your blouse,” I quickly looked down, and felt myself get warmer. To try and make the situation better, I start to ramble on. “You’ve got an amazing house here. I bet all the members love it here.” I wanted to slap myself for saying all the wrong things. He looked around as if he’d never actually seen it before. “It gets us by. Would you like a tour?” I really should have been working, but I couldn’t resist. Besides, wasn’t it impolite to refuse a host? My boss would understand. “Sure, I’d like that.”

“Follow me.” Namjoon led me from the kitchen into a dining room. It wasn’t being used as part of the party so as soon as the doors shut behind us the crowd was instantly muffled. He took me through several rooms, pointing out different things on the wall or telling stories about the furniture. The house was beautiful, a perfect reflection of the man himself. I followed him up the grand sweeping staircase to the second floor. Namjoon walked with his hands in his pockets, his black suit elegant and fitted.

The best part of him having his hands there was the view it gave me of his ass. Tight and round, I wanted to pinch it between my fingers. I tried to focus on the tour but my thoughts were getting dirtier the longer I spent with him. All those fantasies I’d had of him were all running through my mind like it was a marathon. Maybe, just maybe, he’d show me the bedroom… Nope, of course he wouldn’t. I was the only one interested here. We reached the upstairs media room and stopped. It was better than most commercial cinemas I’d been to in my life. “This is amazing!” I gushed. “I’m glad you approve.” I started blushing again. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know. You look gorgeous when you blush, it shows off your cheek bones.” I definitely had not been expecting him to say that to me. There were so many things I could have said, but my mouth wouldn’t work to say any of them. Namjoon’s gaze crackled with lightning as he studied me. I felt my cheeks burn hotter and wondered if he was looking at my cheeks bones. A thrill of excitement shot through me at the thought. He took a step closer until he was so near that I could feel his breath on my skin. I never thought I’d ever meet my bias, let alone be in the same room as him. This had to be a dream…But I knew it wasn’t.

He leaned down and pressed his lips onto mine. There was no warming up period where he hesitated; he just plunged straight into the most passionate kiss I’d ever had. I greedily returned it, our lips lapping at one another until we were breathless. His tongue demanded to be in my mouth, and I readily allowed him in; I was eager to get more and more of the man. All the times I’d imagined this and it was nothing like I expected. It was far, far better.

My heartbeat sped up to an impossible speed as his large hand cupped my breast. He massaged it through my plain white waitress blouse. I suddenly regretted wearing such boring underwear. If I’d known whose house I was going to, I might have worn something else underneath my uniform.

Never, in a million years, could I have imagined Namjoon would be here and he would be kissing me like there was no tomorrow. I couldn’t have asked for a better evening, this definitely beats studying. “Open your legs,” Namjoon said. I looked into his eyes, searching for answers about what he was going to do to me. There were none there, just his intense gaze that told me I needed to do what he said. I moved my legs apart moments before Namjoon sunk to his knees.

He looked up at me from his kneeling position and I knew what was on his mind. He was hungry, and I was his dinner. His hand skimmed up my leg and then over my inner thigh. It tickled with his light caress but I was too nervous to laugh. He was so close to my pussy that it throbbed with anticipation. His fingers touched the fabric of my panties and pushed on my sensitive clit. I tried to keep the relief hidden on my face. He was actually going to touch me, he wasn’t just teasing me. “Do you like that, Y/N?”

“I do,” I moaned out. “Good.” He yanked my panties down and pulled them off. I stepped out of them and he threw them over his shoulder. “I hope you also have some very non sensible panties at home.” It seemed so inappropriate to be having this conversation with my bias, but I couldn’t help myself. “I have some nice panties at home.”

“Excellent. You’ll show them to me next time.” Next time? He already wanted a next time with me? This had to be a joke. He pulled me closer to him so that my skirt was right in front of his face. He pushed the black fabric up to my hips, exposing my pussy. His caresses had made me wet, which was painfully obvious now that I was open to the cool air. With a final grin, his mouth pushed against my clit. I gasped as I felt his tongue stroke my most personal area. His hands wrapped around my thighs and held me in place. Not that I would dream of going anywhere right now.

My knees were starting to buckle as he gently nibbled along my clit. It was exquisite torture as he nipped and then licked the area. The different sensations were driving me into a frenzy. I had to put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. My whole body was as hot as molten lava as his mouth devoured me. His tongue plunged inside me, I couldn’t take much more. It was too much to take in. This man, on his knees, giving me so much pleasure. He leaned back to peek at me. “I’m going to suck your pussy one more time and I want you to come. Do you understand?”

I chewed on my bottom lip as I nodded. I didn’t dare open my mouth in case I said something stupid. Namjoon glanced at me for a moment more before fulfilling his promise. He sucked on my clit as he brought me into his mouth. It was enough to send the orgasm shooting through me. I was alive with the pleasure as it covered my skin like I was on fire. Every little movement Namjoon made sent the shivers through me until he released me. He rocked back on his heels to watch me sail through all stages of my climax.

I’d thought it was hard to breathe when he kissed me. But the orgasm he gave me completely knocked all the air from my lungs. It was ridiculous for one person to hold this much intense heat inside their body. I wanted to open my mouth and scream his name to release it but I held on and let it consume me. Namjoon’s gaze should have embarrassed me but I felt comfortable with him. I trusted him, more than with anyone I’d been with in the past. I wasn’t  that sexually experienced by any means; my previous two boyfriends had never made me feel this way.

Namjoon showed more sexual prowess with just his mouth than both of them combined. “Did you enjoy that?” he asked as I came down from the experience. My skirt was still up around my hips but I didn’t want to adjust it while he watched. “I did,” I replied. “I’ve wanted to do that all night, since I first saw you.”

His words reminded me of the first time I saw him. Suddenly I remember I was here to work, and not mess around with one of the host…who happened to be my bias. I smoothed my skirt down and clamped my legs together. “I should get back to the party.” He picked up my panties and placed them in his pocket. “You should. But I’m keeping these. If you want them back, you will return tomorrow afternoon at six.” There was a challenge in his smirk, both irritating and delighting at the same time.

He wanted me to come back tomorrow and I could only imagine what he had in store for me then. I doubted he would just hand over my panties and send me on my way, not after what he just did to me. I left him in the media room and hurried through the house. Before reaching the kitchen, I cleaned up in the downstairs bathroom. By the time I returned to my duties, I almost had my pulse under control again. “Where have you been?” My boss glared at me with her hands on her hips. “No breaks without permission first, you know the rules.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “The host wanted some food delivered to him upstairs. I just went up and dropped them off.” She eyed me suspiciously. “Okay, then. Help me finish up these dessert platters.” We returned to work and I stuck to the kitchen for the rest of the night. I had to listen to Jen fan girl about how sexy Namjoon was all the way home. Every time she spoke his name, the memory of our time upstairs came to mind and I had to face the window so she couldn’t see my smile. This was a secret that I couldn’t risk telling anybody about. If it somehow got out, it would be bad for him and the group. Jen dropped me at my dorm and I counted down the minutes until I saw Namjoon next. My dreams were filled of my fantasies about him. I thought about the way he looked at me.

The next evening, as  I prepared to leave and slipped on some lacy underwear at the last minute. He’d told me he wanted to see something not so sensible, so that’s what he’d get. There was no one around outside, so I buzzed through with the control panel and the metal gates opened for me. When I approached the front door, Namjoon stood in the middle of the front door arch. His intense gaze seemed to watch me. Sometimes it sizzled with desire, other times it was unreadable. “You’re late.” He said sternly.

“It’s only just after six,” I replied. “Never be late with me.” He pulled me against him and kissed me hard on the lips. It was enough to dissolve any annoyance I had about his problem with the time. “Now come inside with me.”

“Where are the other members?” I asked as I looked around.

“I told them I had plans, and was going to be busy tonight. So they all left, and I’m here by myself.”

“Oh, I see.”

Namjoon leaned close to me, and whispered. “I’m going to fuck you tonight and you’re going to scream with pleasure.And I don’t want us to be disturbed.” My pussy came alive as I clenched my legs together for some relief to the throbbing. “Good to know,” I replied. He gave a satisfied smirk, before he stood and held his hand out for me to take. I placed my hand in his and allowed him to lead me inside. Every nerve inside me was alert and jumping with anticipation. His promise to fuck me hard was all I could think about. I wanted him to own my body; I needed his cock inside me. He led me through the place and upstairs. “Are you a virgin, Y/N?” he asked as we walked. “No, I’m not.”

“Good. I’m going to give you a workout tonight and it won’t be too gentle.” We reached his bedroom, one of the rooms that we didn’t explore on his previous tour. It was a massive room with cream painted walls and a huge black and red bed. Everything looked like it belonged, except the handcuffs hanging from the bedhead. “Handcuffs?!” He sat on the bed and pulled me on top of him. “I like to have sex my way. Sometimes that involves handcuffs. Other times I use different restraints, whips, nipple clamps, dildos, and toys. Do you have a problem with that?”

Seeing the handcuffs made me think of the the fanfictions I read of him.

I’d never experimented with any of those things before. The thought was enough to make me wet and wanting below. “I think I would enjoy it…”

“Good. Let’s start with the handcuffs. Take off your clothes. All of them. And I hope you’re not wearing sensible panties this time.” I was glad that I had changed at the last minute. He watched me disrobe and smiled when he saw my panties. I took them off and twirled them around my finger. “Does lace work for you?” He grabbed them from me and made a show of inspecting them. “Lace will work. I also enjoy thongs. The less fabric, the better.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He tugged me toward him so I stood between his legs. His hands slid over my body until they settled on my ass. He squeezed the soft flesh and earned a moan of approval. “You’re still dressed,” I pointed out. “I told you, Y/N. I do things my way. When I want to do things.” His commanding tone told me he wasn’t to be argued with. It made me want to obey everything he said. He picked me up and placed me on the bed. He kissed me until I was lying down in the middle. He then took my right wrist and pulled it up to reach the handcuff. He secured it snuggly and then did the same with the other wrist. Then, he took off his clothes. He did it slowly, making every button into a show. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Everything about him oozed experience and sophistication.

The real show started when he took his pants off. I’d seen a hint of his cock through his underwear but I was not prepared for the girth when he took them off. I guess I figured out whose condom that was in the picture…but it’s not like I can tell anyone. His cock was already hard and hanging out from his body. I licked my lips at the thought of sucking on the head. “Do you want my cock, Y/N?” I nodded eagerly. “You want me to pound you with it? Tell me what you want.”

I swallowed to get some moisture back in my mouth. “I want you to pound me with your cock…”

“I want to give you everything you desire, babygirl. Now open your legs as wide as they will go.” The direction was easy to follow as I spread my legs for him. He climbed onto the bed like he was a stalking prey. He made me wait for him, the anticipation building. My pussy dripped with desire, more than ready to be filled by him. Namjoon kissed up my legs, his lips brushing past my clit as it peeked out through the hood. He continued up over my belly before sucking on both my nipples in turn. I was all his, he could touch any part of me and I would gladly submit to him.

Our lips collided in a cyclone of desire. His tongue danced with mine as his hands slid over my body. His fingers pinched my nipple and sent a bolt of lightning shooting through me. He knew exactly where to touch to give me the most amount of pleasure. His hips leaned onto mine. His cock pressed against my slit so that I could feel the full weight of it. He was hot and throbbing, more than ready to fuck me.

I wanted to wrap my legs around him and hold him against me but I wasn’t sure if that was allowed. Namjoon was the one in charge here, not me. I would follow all his directions. He knew what would be best for us. “Your body is gorgeous, Y/N,” Namjoon whispered against my skin. “So damn sexy.”

“I’ve been fantasizing about you too,” I admitted. “No more waiting.” His cock plunging into my entrance. I gasped with the sudden movement and my walls stretched to take him in until he was buried deep inside me. He ground his hips against mine with no holds barred. It was very clear that he was claiming me. And I wanted him to have me. All of me. Our bodies worked together as he thrust in and out of my pussy. I clenched down every time he withdrew, holding onto him to feel the wonderful friction. I’d never been so filled before and now I understood why size did matter.

He kissed my neck while he groaned in satisfaction. Every little touch made a tingle of lightning pound underneath the skin. He was bringing me to life and letting me experience wonders I’d never thought were possible. I never knew sex could be like this. The fact my wrists were cuffed to the bed made everything that much naughtier. I had given control to Namjoon and I trusted him to use it wisely. There was nothing I feared from the man; he wouldn’t take advantage of that control and I knew it with all my heart. As our bodies writhed together in supreme ecstasy, his hand moved from my nipple to my clit. He worked it just the same, pinching and nipping the delicate bundle of nerves.

It ramped up my pleasure to unsustainable levels, this was heaven on earth. I thought his mouth was an addiction, but his cock was made of magic. With his hand pinching at my clit, he sent me flying over the edge and plunging into the orgasm. His cock pushed into me as his grunting came to a crescendo. He found his own climax only moments after I did. My skin was on fire and so sensitive I could feel everything from Namjoon’s beating heart to the softness of the sheets. He wrapped his body around mine and held on while we were still connected by his cock.

I couldn’t think of anything as the sweet bliss ran its course around my bloodstream. It felt like everything in the world was wonderful and beautiful. Surely nothing could be better than this feeling. It was akin to being on a drug trip, except lust and desire were my drugs of choice. Namjoon did things to my body and mind that I never wanted to give up. None of the fantasies I’d had about him could hold a spark against the real thing. He was so much better than I had daydreamed about. The fact that it was a secret affair made it that much sexier. “We’re going to be doing this a lot,” he growled before kissing me. He grinned and rolled next to me. I wanted to hug him but I couldn’t move because of the cuffs. Little lightning sparks were still crackling in my clit as I took a few deep breaths. “It was amazing.” He reached up and uncuffed my wrists, rubbing the areas that were red from the friction. I cupped his face between my hands and kissed him. Our mouths collided as my pussy perked up again. He was making me horny again just moments after our coupling. He settled beside me. “Did you enjoy the cuffs?” I nodded. “They made it feel different. Better, I think.”

“Come with me,” he ordered. He sat up and strode away from the bed. His naked ass was glorious to watch. I was mesmerized by it, my fingers itched to pinch it even more when he didn’t have any clothes on. I hurried to catch up with him, obeying his order. He went to a door that I assumed went into a bathroom. But when he opened it, there was another bedroom. “This is my personal playroom.” He gestured around the room as if he were a game show host. At first glance you might think it was just an ordinary bedroom. However, looking closer, I could see the adornments on the wall were various whips and canes.

The artworks were paintings of women all different colors in various sexual poses, splashes of ecstasy on their faces. Namjoon opened the draws of a bureau so I could see inside. There were more sex toys stashed away than in an adult store. The bed was unlike any I’d seen. Chains and restraints were fixed to both the head and the end. It looked like an instrument of torture instead of pleasure.

A black satin sheet covered the mattress. I was overwhelmed by everything in the room. Leaning against the wall for support, I tried to take it all in. “This is what I enjoy, Y/N.. I like having full control over the women I’m with. I want to play in here with you. Nobody else.”

“Why me? I’m not even from here, I’m just here for school.” I wished we weren’t having this conversation completely naked. I felt too exposed and vulnerable. He brushed the hair away from my face and tucked it behind my ear. “Because you’re beautiful and irresistible. As soon as I saw you yesterday I knew you were all I wanted. When it comes to your studies, I can help you when I have time to do so.” His eyes were open and honest, I could see through to his soul through his brown eyes. I never would have guessed he had a room like this, I wonder if the other members have similar rooms.

“We can go slowly. I can introduce you to everything in your own time. But, Y/N, I need to play in here. This is my release.” If I wanted Namjoon, I would have to accept his sexual preferences. When I thought about it like that, the decision became easier. “I want to learn how to be your submissive.” A grin spread across his face revealing his dimples, “good.” Never in my life did I think I’d want to become a submissive to my ultimate bias, but here I was. And it was a dream come true.

Trick or Treat

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Y/N Ackles (Reader),Genevieve Padalecki (mentioned), Tom Padalecki (mentioned), Shep Padalecki (mentioned)

Pairing: Jensen x Pregnant!Reader, J2 Friendship

Warnings: Gory Halloween Decorations, Coffee denial (yeah I was out of beans as I wrote the first half of this) Hormones, Pregnancy (is that a warning), Semi Public Sex, Quickie. Unprotected sex (but they are married and she is already pregnant so…) NSFW Gif under the cut.

Wordcount: 3100ish (or 3112 for Steph :P)

A/N: I knocked three challenges out with this one. I hope that is okay guys.

This is my entry for @thethingwewrite’s Relationships and Friendships challenge where my pairing was J2 (friendship). Tia gave me the prompt: “Cover my back!” Broke the word limit with a bit, but only by 100 words. Sorry!

It is also my entry for @supernatural-jackles Colors of Fall Writing Challenge where my prompt was Halloween Stores and my chosen pairing was Jensen x Reader.

It is also my last hiatus prompt for @one-shots-supernatural challenge which is kinda sad. It has been one hell of a ride - thanks Kayle! The prompt is: “With a face like this I can get away with anything.”

Thanks so much to my amazing sassy lil sis Rach aka @mysupernaturalfics for betaing - Sass - this for me.

NO HATE TOWARDS DANNEEL - ASSUME SHE IS HAPPY WITH SOMEONE ELSE. THIS IS FICTION!

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

You had always loved Halloween, something you shared with your husband but for entirely different reasons than him.

You loved the colors, the lights and the way your street changed into something out of a horror movie. You saw the beauty in the horrific scenes on each and every lawn, while he loved scaring the crap out of kids, teenagers and the occasional parent.

You on the other hand loved the lights and the pumpkin carving. A discipline Jensen had put you to shame in last night, but you hardly cared.

You had loved the quiet time with him. Or what had started as quiet times and had ended in a food fight and sex on the kitchen floor. Neither of you had been able to keep your hands of each other for long over these past few weeks. It wasn’t like you hadn’t always been a passionate couple, but before you had gotten pregnant you had both had a decent amount of self control. Since you had gotten pregnant and especially since you had started to show, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself for long. You couldn’t blame him entirely though, with all the hormones coursing through your body you spend every waking moment either wanting to kill him or jump him.

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Vital: Part One - Terra (a Yondu x Reader fic) Chapter 1/?: Stranger

My first reader fic ever, and it’s a really long involved one. I gave the reader some background, hope this is ok. Takes place post GotG Vol 2, in an AU where Yondu lives.

It’s a really slow burn at the beginning, but there’s smut later on. Rated M for language and future NSFW chapters (these will be marked as such). 


You drop your lunch bag and purse by the door, and after tossing your car keys on the side table, you sigh heavily. It was a long day at the hospital. Everybody needed you for something. You dig the heels of your palms into your eyes and yawn, slipping your jacket off to hang it on the peg.  Immediately you notice how cool it is in the house.

“Crap,” you sigh. “Please don’t tell me the heater is broken.” You make your way to the thermostat in the other room - and stop in your tracks. The sliding door that leads to the backyard is open slightly, letting the cool autumn air seep in. The lock looks busted. You take one step nearer to it, and spot something on the carpet. It looks as if something’s spilled - something a dark purplish blue. Whatever it is, there’s also a little smeared on the door.

You take a few steps back, then notice a trail of the blue stuff leading into the kitchen. You catch your breath, and grab the nearest heavy object - a small metal statue on the couch-side table - and advance into the kitchen.

You haven’t turned on any lights yet, so it’s hard to see, but you think you see a larger, darker shadow in the corner. Tentatively, you flip the switch, hoping to catch whatever it is by surprise, and are praying it’s not going to kill you as a result.

What is illuminated causes a loud gasp to tear from your throat - and you slap a hand over your mouth just in time to stifle it.

It’s a man - but he’s not Human.

His skin is blue, other than the mix of dark blue and silver stubble on his chin, and there’s a tall pointed fin-looking thing protruding from the top of his otherwise bald head. He’s slumped in the corner next to the dishwasher, legs outstretched, one hand plastered to his side. You see a small puddle of the blue stuff pooling under him. Blood. Instantly, your brain goes right back into doctor mode. You place the statue on the counter, well within reach, and approach him.

He didn’t move when the lights came on, nor does he stir when you cautiously kneel by his side. Pictures of the Chitauri that hit New York have been circulating the internet and TV for years, and you’re thankful that this guy doesn’t look anything like them. He could be something worse, a small voice in your head says. But you focus on the blood again, and you push the voice out. You have a job to do here. You pull one of the ever-present plastic gloves from your pocket and put it on your hand.

You wave in front of the alien’s closed eyes, but he doesn’t stir, so you gingerly lift his arm away from his side and peel back the jacket he’s wearing. A piece of shrapnel half as long as your hand is sticking out of his skin. You hiss softly in sympathy. “Geez. What happened to you?” you murmur. You study the wound and wonder how you’re going to move him - he’s at least as tall as you, and definitely heavier by the looks of it. You glance around, and your eyes rest on the kitchen table - if you can get him up there somehow, maybe you can take a closer look at the wound. You’re about to turn back to him, when you feel a hand grab your head. You begin to thrash, yelling, and he yells something back in a language you can’t understand. It’s a garbled sounding speech, intermittent with clicking noises. You feel him push something behind your ear and a subsequent sharp but brief pain. You thrash, punching out with your fist, and catch him in the jaw.

You leap to your feet, clawing behind your ear, where you feel something’s been implanted under the skin. You can’t get it out. You grab the statue off the counter, ready to smash it over his head. “What the hell did you do to me?” you’re screaming.

“Dammit girl, calm down - it’s just a translator chip!”

You freeze and stare down at him. You can understand what he’s saying now. His eyes, a striking ruby-red, pierce into you.

Your head is spinning with a hundred questions. Who are you? WHAT are you? How did you get in my house? You take a few seconds to calm yourself and study him. The man is doing his best to glare at you, but you can tell he’s tired. The corner of his mouth is purple with blood, and you notice a large bruise on the right side of his face that you didn’t see before. A fine sheen of sweat has broken out on his forehead, and his hand is shaking as he presses it to his side. “What happened to you?” you ask finally.

He shifts slightly and winces; his face goes a paler blue for a minute. “Look, you gotta towel or something I can use, I’ll pull this thing out and be on my way.” His voice is gravelly and rough.

“What?” you exclaim. “No!”

He looks up at you, slightly startled, and his eyes narrow. “Come again?”

“I can’t let you go anywhere with a wound like that.”

He laughs roughly, and coughs. “Well girl, unless you’re a doctor or somethin’ I don’t think there’s anything ya can do ’bout it.”

You return a wry laugh. “Well, mister, it’s your lucky day. Because it just so happens I am a doctor.” You stand and walk over to him. “Come on. Let me get you on that table and see what I can do for you.” You nod in the direction of the dining room table, and hold your hands to help him up.

He doesn’t move. If anything, he backs further into the corner and fixes you with a suspicious glare. “Why?”

You drop your hands slightly. “Why what?”

“Why ya so keen on helpin’ me?”

“Because you’re bleeding all over my kitchen floor. And,” you say with a slightly shaking sigh, “I made an oath when I became a doctor, to do no harm. And if I leave you here on the floor, I’ll be doing harm. And if I call the police, or an ambulance, they might shoot you on sight, or you’ll end up being dissected or god knows what else. And that’s doing harm. That’s why. But I won’t make you stay - if you really want to pull it out yourself and bleed to death, I guess that your choice.”

He snorts with laughter, then his smile fades as he studies your eyes. “Yer serious, ain’t ya. Yer gonna help me?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying,” you say, slightly exasperated. “So what’s it gonna be, spaceman?”  You hold out your hands again.

With one more suspicious glance, he grips your forearms and struggles to get his feet under him, panting from the exertion. Once he’s up, you change positions and sling his right arm over your shoulders, guiding him to the dining room table. He climbs onto it, and you help him gingerly out of his jacket before grabbing a cushion to place under his head.

You close the sliding door and draw the blinds, then with a quick “Don’t move,” to the alien, you run to the basement to grab your medical supplies.

You wash your hands, don fresh gloves, and turn on the light above the dining room table where lies. You see his pupils contract before he closes his eyes with a soft grunt.

“Sorry,” you say. “I need to see what I’m doing here.” You lay out your medical tools after sterilizing the kitchen counter, and grab a pair of trauma shears. “I hope you don’t love this shirt,” you comment as you cut it open to see the wound better. You cut the cloth carefully around the piece of shrapnel, catching your breath as the wound is revealed. The piece is bigger than you expected, but thankfully it looks like it’s a pretty clean piece of metal, and the edges are sharp - not jagged. There are slight burns around the wound, so you surmise that it must have been hot when it entered.

As you peel away the shirt entirely, your eyes widen at the sheer number of scars criss-crossing the man’s chest. It’s a mix of what looks like burns, punctures, lacerations, and there’s a odd crescent-shaped one that looks like it might have been made by teeth. The biggest that you can see is a long Frankenstein-esque scar that stretches almost the full length of his lower belly.

“Like what ya see?” the man says gruffly, and you crack a smile, ignoring the slight blush that comes to your cheeks.

He’s fairly muscular, and besides the scars he’s not bad looking. He has that dad-bod that has become all the rage – a look that you’re not opposed to in the least. “You’ve got a lot of scar tissue,” you comment, trying to keep it professional. “Looks like you’ve been through the ringer.”

He just grunts at this.

You douse the wound with alcohol, and swab up the blood. It’s still bleeding, but you need to get that shrapnel out. You pause. Though he seems pretty much humanoid, you have no idea how his body is laid out - his anatomy might be completely different than yours. If only you had an imaging machine.

Then you remember something that was part of a shipment that the hospital got in after the Chitauri attacks in 2012 - a piece of tech from Stark Technologies’ medical department. The hospital had given it to you to hold on to because there hadn’t been room in storage at the time, and everyone - including you - had forgotten about it.

“Be right back!” you say quickly and rush down in the basement. After a few minutes of searching you find it, unbox it, and haul it up the stairs. It’s more advanced than stuff you usually use at the hospital, but you get it up and running pretty quickly. It’s a thin screen that’s supposed to be attached to an extending arm, but you don’t have time to assemble it now. It works like an x-ray, but better, meant for preparing for invasive surgeries.

The screen flickers to life and you hold it between your hands, viewing the alien man’s torso through it. You see a heart with what looks like two extra chambers; lungs, which are huge; some of the other organs are a little larger or smaller than you’re used to and it looks like he might have two livers, but everything looks pretty normal otherwise.  You hover over the wound spot - and breath a huge sigh of relief. “It didn’t hit any organs. And it’s not in as deep as I thought.”

You take anesthetic out of the medical bag and are about to inject a syringe with it when you realize that you don’t know how it’s going to effect him. It could work like it’s supposed to on a Human, or it could kill him. Or, it could have no effect at all.

“This is an anesthetic, but-,” you begin.

“No,” he interrupts, eyes narrowing as he lifts his head slightly. “No anesthetic.” He lets his head drop back on the cushion, but his eyes stay on you.

“Ok, but this is going to hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah. Look, you got somethin’ to drink?”

“Like water? Or something stronger?”

“Strong as you got, girl.”

You peel off your gloves and go to the liquor cabinet. You would normally never allow a patient to be intoxicated during an standard operation, but there is nothing about this situation that is standard or normal. Rum…bourbon…whiskey… you stop at the vodka when you spot something in the back – a moonshine some friends made a few years back that you know from personal experience will singe your nosehairs off. That’ll do.

“Can’t promise it’ll taste good, but I think this is the strongest I’ve got.” You pour him a glass and hand it over. He leans up on one elbow, grimacing, and downs it in one go. He hisses softly, gritting his teeth. “That’s good stuff,” he says, and gestures for the bottle, which, with a shrug, you hand over. He takes another sip straight from the bottle, then places it next to him and settles back. He grips the side of the table preemptively. “All right, girl. Let’s git this over with.”

You put a fresh pair of gloves on, and grab a pair of forceps that you’d been sterilizing in a glass of alcohol. A pad of gauze is handy nearby, and you place your hand firmly against his abdomen, close to the shard. Gripping the metal tightly, you pull.

The man squeezes his eyes shut, and you think you can hear his teeth grinding together. You bite your lip as the metal doesn’t seem to be giving – and then suddenly it budges. With a steady, even movement, you pull the shrapnel from his side.  

“Shit!” he growls as it comes free.

You drop it in the alcohol and press the gauze to his wound. You keep your hands there, pressing hard. Blue-purple blood is soaking the material. You look at him; he’s gone pale and sweaty, and he’s breathing fast.

“It’s ok,” you say gently. “The worst part is over.”

He gives you a slight nod.

You keep applying gauze, intermittently with alcohol, to make sure the wound is free of infection. When the blood isn’t coming as fast, you apply a hemostatic agent to speed up the clotting, and then put on a thick pad of gauze. He’s gone pretty still, his chest is still rising and falling deeply, but his breathing has slowed some.

“How’re you holding up?” you ask quietly, almost gasping as his red eyes snap open like lasers at you.

“M’tired,” he says, voice rougher than before.

“I’m gonna wrap up here, and then I’ll get a bed made up for you.”

“A bed?” he echoes in surprise.

“Well yeah, it’s not like I waved a magic wand and you’re all set to go on your way. You’re not healed yet. You probably need to stay here for a few days.”

“You’d…do that?” he asks, eyeing you as you circle a bandage around his chest. He leans up slightly so you can get under his back.

“Well yeah. I’m not going to just throw you out on the street.”

“Huh.” He’s quiet while you finish up the bandage. As you’re tying it off, he asks, “Ya got a name, darlin’?” His voice is still rough, but quieter, and even a little gentle.

You smile at him. “Doctor [y/n] if you want to be really professional about it, but you can just call me [y/n].” As you put away the supplies and clean up the instruments, you look at him expectantly. “What about you? What do I call you?”

“Yondu Udonta. Y’can call me Yondu.”


A/N: I graduated with a concentration in physical therapy so I have some rudimentary medical knowledge of anatomy, physiology etc., and I know this is just a fic but if you are in the medical field and find something grossly wrong, please let me know. Thanks ;)