what's more perfect than that he looks so polished and gorgeous

***Nearly 3 weeks into the hiatus and I am missing Magnus and Alec desperately. Matthew Daddario voice: *When is it gonna end?” Siiigh. But well, what better way to spent the hiatus then reading some great Malec fanfics, right? Right. Because I have read a lot of amazing fics incl. discovering some great new authors. And now that autumn is coming…. the perfect time to read more.

Also, I am overwhelmed how many notes the last rec post got and how much you all enjoy(ed) it. So I hope this 5th edition will get a lot of love, too. Again, let me know if you liked this and if I should continue doing this. But now, have fun reading, pumpkins.***

FALL WITHOUT WINGS by @notcrypticbutcoy [ M | 144k | WIP ]

Alec has been told the same stories all his life. He’s been taught the same lines, over and over again. Downworlders are reckless, impulsive, demonic. They’re not to be trusted.

And Magnus Bane is the epitome of everything evil about Downworlders.

At least, that’s what people keep telling him. Alec’s not quite so sure anymore.

Or: In which the Nephilim have wings, are taught to loathe Downworlders, and Alec is presented with a conundrum when Magnus Bane saves his life.

HOLDING THE STICK by @baneismyexistence​  [ M | AU | 80.3k | complete ]

Alec Lightwood has dreamed of hoisting Lord Stanley since he was eight. It’s in his blood. He’s spent the last five years trying to make that dream a reality, only managing to fall short each time.

Until a scandal leads to a multi-team trade that sends Magnus Bane his way. One of the top performing wingers in the league. An up and coming star.

And the most handsome man Alec has ever met.

He’s doomed.

STRANGE LOVE by arandomfan91 [ M | AU | 46.6k | complete ]

Alec is in love with Magnus. Magnus needs Alec to be his fake boyfriend. What could possibly go wrong?

STRANGE LOVE - EXTRAS by arandomfan91 [ T | AU | 13.8k | complete ]

Missing scenes and chapter re-writes from Strange Love, all told from Magnus’ POV.

These extras are tied in with the fic Strange Love. You should read that story first before reading this!

FOOLS RUSH IN by @m-aleciseverything [ M | AU | 85.2k | complete ]

Alec, Jace, and Simon go to Vegas for Jace’s bachelor party and things get a little bit ridiculous.

Alec wakes up the next morning and…wait a minute, who’s that in his bed?

AND THE OSCAR GOES TO… by @lecrit  [ E | AU | 21.5k | complete | Stars Aligned #1 ]

Working for Magnus isn’t easy. Magnus is out of control and Alec has to yell more often than not to get him to listen to him. He hates everything formal because it means he has to watch his mouth. Most importantly, Magnus is an incorrigible flirt.

Which would be alright if Alec wasn’t utterly, irremediably, unfathomably in love with him.

IT’S ALWAYS YOUR MOVE by @lecrit  [ E | AU | 15.5k | complete | Stars Aligned #2 ]

Maryse Lightwood is fierce, determinate and she is standing right in front of Magnus, on the threshold of his house, the scowl on her face announcing nothing good.

Magnus hasn’t seen her since the Oscars ceremony three days ago. To be fair, he hasn’t really seen anyone, too busy that he had been catching up on lost time with Alec.

Magnus thought he could be tranquil forever after winning an Oscar and finally confessing his feelings to Alec. Magnus was wrong.

WALK OF FAME by @lecrit  [ M | AU | 13.5k | complete | Stars Aligned #3 ]

Alec is fairly certain he is the luckiest man in America. On earth. Possibly in the entire universe.

He slowly started to convince himself of the now indisputable fact when Magnus and him started dating a year ago after the ceremony that crowned Magnus as King of the World (or Best Actor, but Alec isn’t always objective when it comes to his boyfriend).
A lot happened in a year, and Alec knows eventually the wheel is bound to spin and his luck might dim and vanish but as of now, he still feels like the luckiest man on earth, and he is going to make the most of it for as long as it lasts.

CATCHING THE LOVE BUG by @daddariossmile [ M | AU | 3.5k | complete ]

In which the Lightwood siblings always end up in the hospital, Alec spends a lot of time waiting around, and the charming Dr. Bane is more than a little attractive. 

SYMPATHY FOR THE PRINCE by @ketzwrites [ M | AU | 31.9k | complete ]

Prince of Hell Magnus Bane, was tired of his life in Hell. Every day was the same; condemned souls being punished for their wrong doings, demons feasting on the worst humanity had to offer, two or three deals with a few greedy humans. It was dull, uneventful. Boring.

So Magnus packed his bags and moved to New York City. As the owner of the lavishing club Pandemonium at the heart of Manhattan, Magnus enjoyed a life without worries for five years, until the fateful night where a former client was murdered on the streets.

It was then that he met no-nonsense Homicide Detective Alec Lightwood, owner of incorruptible morals and the tightest ass Magnus has ever seen. Earth was fun, after all.

TODAY YOUR BARISTA IS… by @baneandgone [ G | AU | 2.4k | complete ]

alec works in a coffeeshop. one day jace hijacks the chalkboard out front

(aka one of those ‘today your barista is’ sign aus)

THIGH HOLSTER by @everydayisonfire [ E | PWP | 2.2k | complete ]

Magnus doesn’t get distracted by a certain Shadowhunter, wearing a tight thigh holster.
Nope. Absolutely not.

ON THE SUBWAY by The_Forgotten_Nobody [ G | AU | 1.4k | complete | On The Subway #1 ]

Confused, Magnus followed Rafael’s line of site to the opposite side of the train where a young man sat, pulling silly faces. However, the moment he realised Magnus was staring his face flushed and he stopped, averting his eyes as if he hadn’t just answered all of Magnus’ prayers. In more ways than one as well because not only had he calmed Raf down but he was gorgeous.

MR LIGHTWOOD, MR BANE by TruePlainHearts [ E | PWP | 2.2k | complete ]

“Lovely to see you, Mr Lightwood.”

“And you, Mr Bane. Thank you for taking the time.”


The kinky, shameless smut that occurs right after the rest of the clan leaders leave. Magnus and Alec make excellent and creative use of Alec’s new office and its expansive mahogany desk… and its sturdy door.

MR. LIGHTWOOD by @nanf1c​ [ M | 1.2k | complete ]

A ‘no kissing, looking at suggestively or touching’ rule was applied when it came to Magnus and Alec at the downworlder meeting. Magnus respected that, respected his man, and tried his best as soon as he walked through the doors of the institute. But now, back in his loft, with the night fallen and Alec returning through the front door from a demon attack, looking battered and exhausted, Magnus couldn’t help but keep the game going.

YOU HAVE ME by @hufflebee​ [ G | 664 | complete ]

They stay on the balcony for a while, listening to the sounds of New York at night. Alec noticed the glasses and the discarded pillows when he walked in, but he doesn’t want to break the comfortable silence they’ve fallen into. He looks over at Magnus, and by the angel, he looks beautiful, breathtaking. but the longer Alec watches him, the more he can see the makeup and hair and the clothes for what they really are.

An armour.

PARADISE IN BETWEEN by Teumessian [ E | 7.8k | complete | The Boundless Saga #4 ]

In the months following the loss of the Mortal Cup, anxieties run deep. It’s no time for a vacation, and yet… Magnus has had a lot of years to practice the art of persuasion.

WITH MY BODY AND SOUL, I WANT YOU MORE THAN YOU’LL EVER KNOW by liamandzayn [ E | PWP | 4.3k | complete ]

Alec captures the defined line of Magnus’ jaw between eager yet clumsy fingers, tilting his face upwards as they gasp into each other’s mouths, exchanging fevered gusts of breath. Magnus seizes the swollen flesh of Alec’s bottom lip with gentle teeth, nipping gingerly, suckling with avid hunger and Alec’s groan resonates loud and clear throughout the room. By the angel, he wants this man desperately; his need has become a physical ache, pulsating through his nerve endings and coiling strictly around his burning muscles.

BEGIN AGAIN by ReneeWritesx [ not rated | AU | 21k | complete | A Light To Call Home #1 ]

Unpacking sucked. And Magnus had only brought like half of his things. Okay, maybe two-thirds. But whatever, it didn’t matter. What did matter was that Magnus was sweating from carrying boxes, the cottage had no air conditioning, and he was super close to packing everything back up and driving back to New York in about three seconds.


Or the one where heartbreak is a pain in the ass, Magnus is forced to spend the summer in a small cottage in the hopes of finding his passion for design again, and manages to piss off the cute neighbor after only being there for two days.

“The only real pain in life is between hanging on and letting go.”

IN THE INSTITUTE by sarahrae5135 [ E | 6.1k | complete ]

Magnus stays at the Institute for the first time.

THE MORNING AFTER by @asexualalexanderlightwood​ [ not rated | 733 | complete ]

A small little post finale fic for anyone in need of more Malec loveliness

BETTER FOR YOU by @zrdu [ not rated | 9.2k | complete ]

Magnus’ and Alec’s relationship comes to a sudden halt when Maryse interferes. They both try to cope without each other.

WITH YOU WRAPPED AROUND ME, THE WORLD FEELS PERFECT by @matsdaddario  [ E | 3.6k | complete | Lovely Firsts #3 ]

Magnus is still asleep; Alec can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against his own back, and Alec takes the few minutes just to enjoy being wrapped up in Magnus’s arms. He looks down at their hands threaded together, resting against his stomach. He loves the contrast between them; tan and pale, long and lean, deep red nail polish and short, bitten nails. There’s something comforting there too. How different they can be, but how well they fit together. Alec has a moment of feeling like they were made to fit together. It might be stupid, it brings a blush to his cheeks, but a warm feeling settles in his stomach at the thought. He likes that.

ONE DAY by @magnusragnor​ [ T | 1.3k | complete ]

“Do you -” Alec started, hissing his teeth in pain and looking up at Magnus. “Do you have any more of that free of charge warlock TLC?”

“What are you -?” Magnus asked, before the memory hit him full force and he tried not to laugh, because Alec was hurt, god damn it. But Alec was smiling up at him and his eyes were shining bright full of hope and love, so Magnus leaned down and kissed him.

MORNINGS LIKE THIS by @softmagnusbane​ [ G | 1.1k | complete ]

Alec feels all his love for the man in his arms bubble up to the surface looking at him like this. Sleep rumpled and peaceful, his hair is a soft mess that Alec almost can’t wait to run his fingers through when Magnus wakes up, his lips so kissable and slightly open. There is nothing better in this world than being able to wake up to this he thinks idly.

PLAYING WITH FIRE by Obsessivecompulsivereadr [ M | 3k | complete ]

Alec’s breath catches nearly every time he looks at Magnus, and it happens even during times they haven’t been on an official date. But tonight is different. Magnus isn’t his sedate and dignified self right now. He’s back to being flirty and relaxed, and he looks so good that Alec can’t stop thinking about touching him.

SO BRIGHT by @lemonoclefox [ G | 17.5k | complete ]

Alec has come out, but that doesn’t stop his parents from their continuous attempts to set him up with a nice shadowhunter girl. So, what better way to finally get them off his back, than to say he has a boyfriend? Problem solved. Except they now apparently want to meet this guy, who doesn’t exist. Thankfully, Magnus Bane – who encouraged Alec to come out in the first place, and whose silent crush on Alec is just as bad as Alec’s crush on him – is more than happy to help. Even if the night doesn’t end up going entirely as planned.

SLOW ME DOWN FOR A MINUTE by @abloodneed​ [ E | 7k | complete ]

They stared at each other for a moment, each beat of Magnus’s heart seeming to thicken the air again, pulling them back to the charged space they had fallen into on all of their dates. They’d fallen into this feeling here in the loft, out in the world, so many places where everything suddenly just felt intense and present. They were in this charged space where their bodies were saying one thing, and one thing only.

I want you so badly.

BLUE CHRISTMAS by Hobbit69 [ E | AU | 1.5k | complete | Blue Steels Series #6 ]

Just a quick fic to fill in a Christmas need I have for my Blue Steel Series. Takes place between “Blue Extravagance” and the upcoming “Blue Righteousness.”
Magnus and Alec “come” together for the first time since Alec’s injury and the boys wake up for Christmas morning.

BLUE RIGHTEOUSNESS by Hobbit69 [ E | AU | 41.1k | complete | Blue Steels Series #7 ]

After returning from medical leave, Detective Alexander Lightwood-Bane catches his roughest case up to date. When one of his properties, a club called Kebebasan is attacked by two gunmen, Magnus Lightwood-Bane calls the best cop he knows. During the course of the investigation, Alec discovers that this shooting isn’t an isolated incident, but the result of domestic terrorism; a group attacking what they consider to be amoral. Alec and his partner, Jace Herondale have to move quickly to stop this group before it causes wide-spread panic in the city and more loss of life.

LUNCHDATE WITH AN AFTERNOON DEBATE? by eenkhjin [ G | AU | 5.7k | complete]

Magnus Bane goes out to get lunch but comes back with a mission to prove someone wrong. Kind of…

TO LOVE A SHADOWHUNTER by Madalena [ E | 10k | complete | The Peacemaker Chronicles #1 ]

“Are you really going to risk your life for a Shadowhunter?”

Those were some of the last words that Magnus Bane had said to Dot before he stepped through his portal to his lair, protecting only the warlocks. Abandoning the rest of the Shadow World to Valentine and his Circle.

Dot wasn’t sure how long she had been under Valentine’s control, but now as she stood on Magnus’ balcony, hours after Magnus and Clary had portalled away to the Institute, to save both Shadowhunters and Downworlders, she knew something had changed.

Someone had changed him.

OBLIVION by @champagnemagnus [ T | 2.7k | complete ]

Alec stood up, keeping a careful distance and being sure to move slowly as he approached. “Magnus, I am so sorry. For everything you had to go through.”

Magnus’ eyes never moved from the spot on the floor he was staring at. He shook his head slightly, eyebrows furrowed deeply. “That agony rune…” He paused, taking a moment to swallow. His face was drawn in so much pain that Alec had to look away for a moment. He immediately punished himself by digging his fingernails into his palm. It was selfish to worry about his pain. He had certainly inflicted more than enough on Magnus that he had to atone for. “Made me remember things that I spent…centuries trying to forget.”

ONE SHOW ONLY by @gingersnapwolves [ E | AU | 29.4k | complete ]

It’s hard to stay in the closet when the guy you had a one-night stand with two nights ago turns out to be your new partner … but Alec will be damned if he isn’t going to give it a try.

THE RED BUTTON by @ketzwrites [ M | AU | 38k | complete ]

After one black out too many, Ragnor and Catarina had enough of Magnus trying to drink himself to an early grave. It was time for an intervention and they had the perfect place in mind: The Institute, the best rehabilitation installation in the New York state.

Only Magnus wasn’t exactly asked for his opinion on the matter. And if there is something Magnus doesn’t like, is to be forced into something.

Maybe the Head of the Institute, Alec Lightwood, is enough of an argument to chance his mind?

anonymous asked:

Can you improve my outlook on life and write a very drunk draco clinging to Harry please?

(LOL, I love the way you phrased that and also, I love drunk Draco.)

Potter sat there, leaning back in the booth with his arm slung across the back of the faux-leather seat, his shoulders shaking as he threw his head back and laughed at something the Weasel said. Granger shook her head with a smile of fond exasperation and leaned up to kiss her husband’s cheek. The weird blonde (”Loony Lovegood,” his booze-soaked brain provided) was waving her wand over the she-Weasel’s head in circles - ‘cause that’s normal behaviour for her.

Draco supposed that the thought of going over there ought to feel intimidating - he was completely outnumbered. But perhaps it was because of the eight or so shots of tequila Pansy had dared him into guzzling, or because he was randy as fuck.

Or because he’d just stood there hiding behind the cloak stand by the door and gazing at Potter like a lovesick halfwit far too long - he was no coward. Not anymore.

So he squared his shoulders and marched across the bar, tripping only twice, the second time because of that swaying oaf who’d nearly knocked him over.

Potter blinked up at him with his mouth slightly open.

“Potter.” Draco felt vaguely triumphant that his voice came out steady and calm - and Potter’s form was only very slightly blurry. “Potter,” he repeated, blinking slowly.

“Malfoy,” Potter replied cautiously, one eyebrow sliding up the scarred forehead. “What’re you doing here?”

“I can be here if I want to be here ‘cause I want to be here–” Draco was being very loud - his ears rang a little. Potter scrambled out of his seat, throwing a hasty glance at his friends before coming up to Draco and grabbing his elbow hard. Draco scowled around at the group - Weasley was scowling back, Granger looked thoughtful, she-Weasley looked completely bewildered and Loony, well Loony hadn’t noticed him yet; she was peering into she-Weasley’s ear as though she’d lost something in there.

Potter dragged him away a few paces. “What the hell?”

Draco tried to yank his arm out of his grip but nearly ended up overbalancing and falling onto his arse instead - Potter’s grip tightened.

“Let me go!” Draco slurred, stepping closer to Potter.

“What’re you doing here?” Potter repeated softly.

“I like you,” Draco proclaimed boldly. “I’ve always liked you. You never noticed. You have terrible eyesight.”

Potter pursed his lips, a faint line appearing between his thick brows. “I know I do,” he said, indicating to his smudged glasses.

“I like you,” Draco said once more, his voice decidedly breathy now - ugh. He stepped closer and, oh Merlin, rubbed their noses together. “So much,” he sighed, pressing their cheeks together for a swift second.

“Oh?” Potter didn’t seem put out at all. After staring steadily at him with his stupid green eyes twinkling merrily, Potter asked, “What d’you want, Draco?”

“To go home with you.” Oh shit, he was going to kill Pansy.

Potter simply continued to twinkle at him. “Well, I’m not going to say no to that,” he said very seriously, finally releasing Draco’s elbow to slide both his arms around Draco’s waist and tug him closer.

Draco gasped as he was pressed flush against Potter. He could caught a whiff of spicy aftershave, Firewhiskey and mint; he pushed both hands into the mess on Potter’s head and leaned forward to whisper, “I want you to fuck me.” He pressed his face into the crook of Potter’s neck.

Potter’s arms tightened, the world closed in around him until he was being squeezed almost to the point of pain, and then he was being pulled through dense blackness.

Everything ached. His stomach ached, his back ached, his toenails ached - his eyelashes ached. His head felt like it had exploded and had been put back together before exploding again; even his hair hurt.

He was too close to the sun, his retinas were on fire. The sheets below him were softer than a cloud and smelt pleasantly flowery - his stomach twisted.

He kicked himself out of bed, fell over onto his hands and knees and then half-crawled, half-ran to the bathroom until he was heaving into the toilet. It was another ten minutes before he was able to make himself stand, piss, gargle with half a bottle of mouthwash and wash his face - which also hurt.

Clad only in his boxers he stumbled through the house, following the horrible sound quality of the Wireless and the utterly heavenly scent of fresh coffee.

“Coffee!” he croaked, throwing himself into a chair so heavily that he slipped off the polished wood and landed on his bum. Potter turned around, a spatula with a bright red handle in one hand, took one look at him and nearly fell down laughing.

“Good morning!” he virtually screamed. Draco rested his cheek on the chair and groaned hoarsely, feebly pressing his hands to his ears.

“Coffee,” he whimpered. “What happened to my head? Coffee,” he pleaded once more.

Grinning widely, Potter poured him a large mugful. Shaking his head slightly as he walked over to the table, he set the steaming mug on the table, reached down and nearly lifted Draco off his feet as he helped him onto the chair he’d aimed for. “Let me guess - tequila?”

“I hate Pansy.” Draco wrapped both hands around his jade green mug with the gold polka dots and drew the drink of the Gods closer to him. “I hate tequila. I hate drinking. I hate bars. I hate going out.”

“But you like me.” Potter’s completely deadpan expression made Draco scowl - aarrgh, his face hurt dammit.

“What?” He took a huge gulp and moaned a long, gurgling moan as the gorgeous bitterness spread over his tongue.

“You like me,” Potter said again, leaning a hip against the counter with his arms crossed - he looked on the verge of another bout of laughter.

Draco stared blearily at him for several seconds before fuzzy memories started leaking into his aching brain. Then he let his head thump onto the table with another groan as Potter burst out laughing again.

“I hate everything!” Draco stated miserably. “Stop laughing at me!” His head throbbed when he raised his voice so he promptly shut up.

Potter, still laughing by the way, was loading up a plate with eggs, sausages and strips of bacon fried to crisp perfection - Draco’s stomach rolled and he clamped his mouth shut firmly as the food was set down before him.

Then Draco’s husband cupped his face with both hands, turned his face up and kissed him firmly. “I like you too,” Potter informed Draco.

“I will vomit on you,” Draco threatened.

Potter grinned, kissed his nose and went to get himself a plate of breakfast.

(Any good? ❤️)

Call Boy II (Taeyong x Reader x Yuta)

Rating: M

(A/N) HELLO MY FELLOW THIRSTY HOES!!!!!! I AM FINALLY BACK WITH THE LONG AWAITED SEQUAL TO THE THRILLING FIRST INSTALLMENT OF CALL BOY AKA THE DEMISE OF EVERYONE’S OVARIES!!! LMAO For reals though, I’m so excited to share this with all of you because ya’ll have been sO SUPPORTIVE OF ME AND SHITTY WRITING?????? Special thanks to my NCT writers league babes for bouncing ideas with me!!! I love you all so much! ENJOYYYYYYYY!!!!!


P.S.S. And yes, I am still the same blog that posted the original Call Boy smut!! I was @chokemewithjaehyunschoker!

Part I

Originally posted by iloveyuta

Life was different now. 

Every morning you woke up, you couldn’t help but feel amazed, was this truly your reality? How did it all possibly work out? It was too good to be true. You’d thought there would be rough patches, jealousy, lust, secrets…but no. It was all laid out on the table, worn on sleeves for all to see. 

At least, for the three of you to see.

Not a single soul other than yourselves knew of your tristes, your arrangement. Sometimes you had to sit and think about who people were to you, how your heart felt. You had a boy with whom you were in love with, mind, body, and soul. But then, there was him.

The man which you craved constantly, pleased you, and who you only were attracted to sexually.

You loved Taeyong, he was your perfect boyfriend, your everything. He treated you lovingly, showering all his affection on you, gave his entire self to you, and he pleased you bodily. With Taeyong, sex was a spiritual experience. You swore every time you made love with him, you entered a higher state of bliss, something you didn’t experience with him.

Yuta gave you everything Taeyong wasn’t comfortable with. You simply had to ask Yuta what you wanted and he would deliver, every time. He never failed to make you feel beautiful and adored, his desire for you and yours for him was from some other world. Sex with Yuta was all pleasure, feelings were forbidden.

Sometimes it was so hard not to feel something though.

While Taeyong was fine with you taking, what he called, “lessons” from Yuta, you and him decided on some ground rules. You appreciated how Taeyong put your happiness and safety first, allowing you freedom, but not so much liberty that he would grow worried.

Yuta was forbidden from videoing or photographing you during your intimate times together, you had stated this early on, not wanting to end up on some porn sight, or where friends and family could see you. No one but the three of you were aware of your special situation, and you were keen on keeping it that way.

You weren’t allowed to spend the night with Yuta, unless some emergency called for it, but you’re not sure why you would have to anyway, you’d find a way back to Taeyong even if it killed you.

An obvious rule, but Yuta had to always use protection, Taeyong was the only man allowed the privilege of coming inside of you. You certainly didn’t want any little ones running around that weren’t Taeyong’s, that would be messy for sure.

The final and most thoughtful rule that you and Taeyong had contrived was that only you and him were allowed to have sex in your shared bed. To you, your bed was a sacred place where you and Taeyong not only slept, but shared your most intimate of times, both physically and mentally. So many loving confessions and beautiful moments had taken place there, you wanted them to remain between where you and Taeyong slept side by side. Your bed was the place where Taeyong could call you completely his and where he was yours. No person, no matter how irresistible, could tarnish the sacred space that was your bed.

But still, Yuta was difficult.

As you slid out of the sheets quietly, careful to not disturb Taeyong’s sleeping form, you thought of how Yuta made you feel. Honestly, you had no idea what to think of him. He was a friend, that’s for certain. He was a means for your pleasure too, an added bonus. As you brushed your teeth, you painted the call boy’s handsome features in your mind, tracing his lips and thinking of that bright smile. For all of his sexual prowess, Yuta was still a sweetheart, something you learned rather quickly when you began to see him regularly. You still couldn’t believe though that Taeyong was absolutely fine with you seeing Yuta almost once a week. He put so much faith into you that you felt a certain responsibility, almost like he trusted you too much.

Today was a Yuta day, or so you called it in your head. You walked back into the room and slipped into some nicer lingerie, knowing which was Yuta’s favorite. A pale pink mesh and embroidered set that complimented your smooth skin and left little to the imagination. You slid normal clothes over that, a simple pair of jeans and a warm sweater to help fight off the cold of the winter day.

You padded over lightly to your sleeping boyfriend, brushing the hair from his eyes as you smiled at how cute he looked. He blinked sleepily, a bit confused before he smiled, pulling you down into a kiss. You moved your lips against his lovingly, savoring the taste of his mouth that you were practically addicted to. There was no one who you’d rather kiss than Taeyong, his lips sinful, soft, and perfect. His hands reached up to pull you onto him, not breaking the kiss as he slid his hands over your ass and gave it a squeeze. You giggled against his lips, making him pull away and give you another endearing smile. His morning voice almost made you squeal as he mumbled, “Off already?”

You nodded, running a finger down the bridge of his nose, “Mhm, I thought I’d go early so we could have the rest of the day to ourselves…maybe dress fancy and get some dinner?”

Taeyong’s hands on your ass were rather distracting as you tried to pay attention to his words. He smiled innocently, but his hands said otherwise as they slid into your back pockets, “Sounds good to me.”

Your cheeks flushed, but you bit your lip to hide your smile, “Okay, I’m off then.” He gave your ass one more satisfying smack that left a delicious sting even through your jeans, “Get going then, baby girl. And hurry back.”

You slid off of him, pressing one more kiss to his lips before you headed out the door. You grabbed your coat, and hurried to the train station, anticipation welling up in you as you still felt the sting of Taeyong’s slap on your ass.
Yuta lived in a gorgeous apartment one of his wealthier patrons paid for. He never disclosed their name, but obviously they had to be some celebrity or important figure to afford a place like this. He’d recently grown popular, and his prowess became known to higher people, now he was one of the most expensive in the city. It was sleek and modern, dare you say, sexy even. Yuta had embellished the house in his own personal style, each room so him it hurt. After riding an elevator up and up into what seemed like the clouds, you reached Yuta’s floor in the apartment building, an entire floor just for him…and whatever client he was pleasing at the time.

Today it was you, but you were special in your own way. Different because you didn’t pay a dime and was personally invited by the exclusive callboy himself. You didn’t like to admit it, but you always would flush with satisfaction at the thought of this. To know you were more special than even his most well paying clients made you happier than you cared to say.

You pressed the shiny doorbell, able to see your warped reflection in the polished metal. You heard a neat ding sound from within and a pair of footsteps walking eagerly over to the door. You were greeted by an cutely breathless Yuta who looked you over with hungry eyes, “______, nice to see you again, baby girl.”

Your ears rung with the same pet name that Taeyong left you with, you chest feeling odd as you stepped in through the door. You smiled at the callboy, allowing him to take your coat and hang it next to the door, where his own chic coats were located. He looked so beautiful doing such a simple task, the sleeves of his sweater rolled up to reveal his tan forearms. He knew how much you liked it, never failing to be as visually pleasing to you as possible.

He gave you one of his winning and brillant smiles, walking over to a breakfast bar in the kitchen, “I was just making coffee, care for some?”

You nodded eagerly, trying to calm your nerves that you always got coming over, “Yes, please.” This was a new routine of his that he had started recently, inviting you to do something mundane and normal before taking you to his lustrous bedroom. It had confused you at first, but you didn’t think much of it, merely seeing it as him trying to be more of a friend to you, rather than a fuck buddy. You appreciated it, liking this opportunity to know more about who Yuta was and find out his personality.

He brushed his soft brown hair from his face, pouring coffee into two oddly cute mugs and fixing it up how he knew you liked it. He pressed the mug into your hand and leaned a hip against the counter, looking so effortlessly gorgeous, “Rather early for us isn’t it?”

You blushed, never able to adjust to how casual he was about your tristes, “O-oh, yeah. I just had some things I wanted to do later.” You tried not to mention Taeyong around him, only because it felt strange and awkward.

Practically reading your mind, he pressed casually, “With Tae?” His face remained composed, not giving away what his voice did: jealousy.

You nodded not noticing his tone, sipping your coffee nervously, “Yeah, we haven’t gone out for dinner in a while, so it thought it would be nice.”

Yuta set down his mug, having drained his coffee, “Well that sounds nice, I hope you have fun. Now,” his demeanor completely changed, slipping into something a bit more mischievous and dangerous. “Why don’t you tell me a little about what your wearing? I’m a bit curious you see.”

Your face flushed, your own attitude morphing into one more playful and coy, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would,” he countered, pressing both hand onto the countertop in such a dominant way that it made your womanhood ache.

You set down your own mug, trying to remain composed and still unable to detect the apparent jealousy in Yuta’s accented voice, “One of your favorites.”

“Oh?,” he settled back down again, not bristling as much as before. “I’d like a peek.” He smirked leaning against the counter, knowing fully well that you couldn’t stand it when he acted cocky.

Two could play at that game though, you weren’t as quick to give in as before. You’d learned over time how Yuta acted, his mannerisms and tactics, how he got the girl every time. You put your hands behind your back, playfully sauntering away towards where his lux bedroom was, “Why don’t you come find out?”

You didn’t give him time to reply, smiling to yourself as you walked off to his bedroom. He shook his head, mirroring your expression as he allowed you some distance to walk into his room before he followed. How he loved when you teased him back, so much different than the first time he’d fucked you.

Inside Yuta’s naturally lit bedroom, you went to work shedding your clothes and leaving yourself like a little pink present on his silky bed. You adjusted your lingerie, securing the cute dainty bows that kept your bra in place and fixing your panties so Yuta had a view of some cheek. Sprawled out on his bed, Yuta walked in, his gate sauntering and confident.

He licked his lips, seeing you look so eager for him, “I love how you’re so needy, ready to have my cock inside your pretty little pussy.”

It was like a switch, the moment Yuta walked into his bedroom, all semblance of sweetness was gone. Lust and dominance were the only thing running through his mind as he lazily undid the belt on his jeans. Your lids were heavy with want as you murmured, “You know me too well…”

Your voice trailed off as he reached you, threading his fingers through your hair surprisingly gently before yanking it back roughly. He smirked, crawling onto the bed and running his lips over the skin of your throat, “That I certainly do,” he pressed open mouth kisses to your jaw.

“I know what you like,” he whispered, hand releasing your hair to grab your ass and dragging your body to straddle his lap.

“Where you like to be touched,” the call boy smoothed his warm hands over your thighs, squeezing your supple skin. You gasped at the sensitive feeling that raced over your body.

“What turns you on,” Yuta purred as he began to grind to the music he had playing softly in the background of his room. The roughness of his jeans rubbed you so well you couldn’t help the moan that slipped past your parted lips. He let his mouth brush against yours, but didn’t kiss you, just letting the raw feeling of your lips colliding be felt.

“And how you like to be fucked,” he groaned, jeans far too tight for his liking. He pushed you down into the sheets, making quick work of his shirt and pants before he caged you in underneath his frame.

“Don’t I?,” he asked, panting as he continued to rub your clothed crotches together. “Hm, baby girl?”

“Yes,” you gasped, hands finding purchase in his satin sheets as your chest heaved from the feeling of his hips rocking into yours.

Yuta smirked, stopping his movements and letting his hands slip down your body until he found the waistband of your panties. He slipped the skimpy fabric down your legs, admiring the lingerie as it slid down you thighs, “You’re right, they are my favorite.”

“But, as much as I like seeing them on you, baby girl, I much prefer them on my floor,” he simpered, making the wetness between your legs increase as his fingertips skimmed across your inner thigh.

He granted you relief as he spread your wetness with his fingers, making you throw your head back and arch above the bed. The call boy slid two digits in, dragging them wonderfully in and out like he was born to finger fuck you.

“Oh fuck,” you groaned, looking down to watch his fingers doing their good work and looking up at him through your lashes. “You’re so good, baby.”

He smiled cockily, leaning down to kiss you affectionately before he began to rub your sensitive bundle of nerves, “I know. Who else could make you feel as good as me?”

Through your pleasure drunk reverie, you managed to think of your boyfriend, defending his honor. Your struggled to get the words out, lips quivering, “T-taeyong does.” The call boy’s warm brown eyes grew icy, his gaze sharp and piercing, clearly upset by your mentioning of your boyfriend. His fingers became rougher, his touches suddenly painfully pleasurable, so much so that the breath was knocked out of you.

His words were harsh, but they made you moan from the tone he used, “You know how much I hate it when you mention him, sweetheart. Now,” he growled, “Who is finger fucking you right now?”

Tears of pleasure spilled down your cheeks, bed rocking against the wall from the force he was using. “Yuta is! Fuck…!”

“Not my name, kitten. I’ll ask again,” he smirked, fingers curling inside of you and thumb rubbing deliciously on your clit. “Who is fucking you?”

“Daddy!” You choked out, shame settling in your stomach at what Taeyong would think as you suddenly orgasmed. You thought as your toes curled in pleasure at how betrayed he would be and it would be all your fault. Taeyong was your daddy, but Yuta apparently couldn’t bare the thought of that. You don’t know how it happened, here you were only driven by lust and only cared about pleasure.

“That’s right,” Yuta murmured, fingers fast as he rubbed you to completion, groaning in satisfaction at the sight as he rubbed himself through his grey briefs with his free hand. “Such a good girl.”

Through your half lidded gaze, you saw the precum that almost literally seeped through the fabric of his underwear, tongue dragging across your bottom lip as you thought of how hard he must be. You lifted a shaking hand and pushed his larger one aside, rubbing the outline of dick enough to make him groan and tilt his head back from the feeling.

Everything but Yuta flew from your mind at that moment as you slid his briefs down his hard thighs. It was like you were a completely different person, not like yourself at all. The hand that stroked Yuta’s cock wasn’t yours, but it felt so good to be pleasing him, you couldn’t help the words that slipped past your lips, “Daddy, please let me make you feel good.”

Yuta almost came from the earnest look on your cute face, so ready for him, so needy. He whispered, lips parted, “Suck my cock, princess.”

You were already leaning down to take him into your mouth, unable to process anything but feeling of your tongue smoothing across the tip of his dick. He groaned, hips rocking lightly into your mouth as he grabbed your hair and laid back on the headboard. You took him so well, his member fitting into your mouth perfectly.

You sucked him off, your mouth making sounds so lewd that even Yuta’s ears turned a light pink. You coated his dick with your tongue, focusing on the underside near the tip where you knew he liked it the most. You persisted on that spot, relentlessly pressing your tongue on his sweet spot until he literally had to push you off.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, watching as he took his cock into his own hand and jerked himself off, chasing his release. You watched with a hand immediately rubbing your clit, touching yourself to the same rhythm that Yuta used. You panted, leaning over to connect your lips with Yuta’s as you both pleasures yourself. You took his tongue into your mouth, swapping spit with him as your sucked his wet muscle.

You suddenly gave a high moan, finally coming over your fingers the same time that Yuta’s hand stuttered. His hips bucked into his hand, panting loudly as he squeezed his eyes shut and suddenly came with a long groan. His cum shot onto his toned stomach, long cloudy white stripes that made your mouth salivate as he attempted to prolong his release.

“Holy fuck, baby girl,” he groaned, slipping his tongue into your mouth as he kissed you. The erotic sounds of your wet kisses made your knees weak, cupping his face as you both settled down from your orgasms.

“You made me make such a mess, kitten,” Yuta murmured, eyes still halflidded with lust. “I think you need to clean up.”

You went to go grab your panties, or a towel, to wipe up his release, but he grabbed your wrist, “Lick it off.”

You gave a soft moan at his command, allowing him to sit back so you could straddle his body. Dragging your tongue across his stomach, you licked his cum off, the salty release coating your throat, never able to get used to the taste.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, stroking your hair as his abs flexed from the feeling of your soft tongue running across his body.

Having cleaned him off to his liking, you sat up and licked the corners of your mouth, gazing with satisfaction at his glistening abs. You smiled, feeling like yourself again, a blush rising to your cheeks, “Did I do well?”

Yuta leaned over and pulled you into a chaste kiss, dragging you down with him to curl up in the sheets, “You were perfect.” He gave you one of his dazzling smiles, wrapping his arms around you and cuddling you in such an innocent way that you couldn’t believe he was the same person.

You pouted and pulled out of his arms, “I can’t today, Yuta.” He went to protest, but you gave him an earnest look, “I have to go home.” You grabbed your clothes, slipping your jeans on, widening your eyes at him for emphasis, “To Taeyong.”

He sulked childishly, like his favorite toy was being taken away, “I wish you could stay.”

“I’m sorry,” you pleaded, already standing in the doorway of his room. “Maybe next time. I need to spend time with Taeyong, okay? I’m worried about him.”

“What do you mean?,” he questioned, propping himself up on his elbows and looking at you quizzically.

You bit your lip, avoiding his warm brown gaze, “I think he’s beginning to feel…concerned.” You gestured between the two of you, “With this.”

Yuta’s face was an expressionless mask, a master at hiding his emotions when he was guarded. His voice was quiet, barely a murmur, “So what is this, _____?”

You swallowed, throat feeling dry, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively as you finally met his eyes, “I don’t know.”

“What even am I to you?,” he mumbled, dropping his eyes and clenching his fists.

You couldn’t answer him because you really didn’t know. Sometimes things felt so natural with Yuta, like it did with Taeyong, easy and happy. Why was he so upset? Didn’t he deal with girls all day? Why was he even asking you that question? You were a means to an end for him, right? You turned away from him, throat already right with your tears, unable to explain how you felt or how he was feeling, “S-see you later.”

“See you later,” he echoed, voice so bitter you tasted it in the tears that were now cascading down your cheeks.

You felt broken, like a piece of you had just been detached and thrown into the garbage. As you grabbed your purse and coat, you pressed your face into his own jacket, inhaling his comforting scent. You don’t know why, but you wanted so desperately to turn back and try to fix things.

You didn’t know how to though.

Was it over?

No, you shook your head, walking down the hall to the elevator with uneasy steps. You took a quivering breath, pressing a hand to your mouth as you tried to take in what had just happened.

Get back to Taeyong, you thought, comforting yourself with the imagine of your boyfriend’s comforting arms. 

Home really wasn’t a place, it was a person, and Taeyong was home. You had calmed down on your train ride home, not wanting Taeyong to know about what had transpired at Yuta’s apartment.

You embraced him the moment you walked through the door, burying your face into his chest. He looked pleasantly surprised, embracing you back warmly, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you murmured into his shirt, closing your eyes and absorbed the feeling of his arms around you. “I just realized how much I missed you.”

Taeyong smiled, tilting your chin up and kissing your lips passionately, “It’s only been a few hours though.” He helped you with your coat, “I thought that we could just stay in tonight. I’ll make some dinner.”

You felt relieved at his suggestion, “That sounds so nice.”

“Good,” he grinned, “because I’ve already started making the food.”

You laughed and followed him to the kitchen, heart feeling a little lighter. Taeyong stood before the stove, mixing the sauce he was making for what appeared to be spaghetti, his back looking so strong and broad.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your face into his back and rocking him gently, “I love you, Taeyong.”

He turned around in you hold, brows furrowing, “What’s gotten into you, sweetheart? Did something happen at Yuta’s place?” He looked suspicious now, subtly inspecting your body for any signs of hurt just in case.

“I’m telling you, nothing happened,” you lied, swallowing the lump in your throat as your boyfriend looked at you critically. If he knew you were lying, he didn’t tell you, instead murmuring a quiet, “Okay.”

Taeyong had known for a while, known that Yuta was beginning to feel something for you. He didn’t say anything though, knowing you were obviously oblivious to the fact the call boy cared for you in a not so friendly way. Taeyong hadn’t called his friend out on it yet, biding his time and waiting to see if Yuta would actually respect the fact that you were his. Apparently not though, he could tell that something had happened and you were now probably aware of Yuta’s feelings for you.

He had a plan though, a risky one. But it might be the only thing that could keep you as his, and not his call boy friend’s.

The rest of the evening went rather smoothly, Taeyong not giving away the fact that he was scheming something. You relaxed easily throughout the night, forgetting Yuta as you lost yourself in your boyfriend. You didn’t even realize that Taeyong already knew, oblivious when he subtly texted a certain someone on his phone while the two of you were snuggling on the couch.

Twenty or so minutes passed and you felt sleepy, suddenly tired from the wear and tear of the day. You craned your head up and kissed Taeyong’s jaw, eliciting a smile from him, “Wanna head to bed, babe?”

“Sure, baby girl,” he smirked, nuzzling into your neck and pressing a kiss there, “Mind if I get my fair share today though?”

You blushed coyly, a mischievous smile on your lips, “Of course, baby.”

You slid off of Taeyong’s lap, allowing him to give you a firm smack on your ass as he sped you off to your room, “Wait for me, naked, on the bed. Understand?” You nodded and pranced off towards your bedroom, suddenly feeling the familiar need for Taeyong’s touch and of his body.

Once you were in your room and he heard the door close, he stood up at once, walking over to the front door of your apartment and opening it quietly.

“Yuta,” Taeyong gave a curt nod, taking in the appearance of the always immaculate call boy.

“Taeyong,” Yuta murmured, almost unable to meet his friends gaze.

“You know why you’re here?,” your boyfriend questioned, raising an eyebrow and allowing him entrance into the apartment. He shut the door silently, hand firm on the door handle.

Yuta looked slightly taken aback by his friend’s bluntness, but bristled with defiance, “Yes.”

Taeyong nodded, as if he respected Yuta’s determination, “Then I shouldn’t have to explain. Let’s just get on with it.”

“May the best man win,” Yuta murmured, his warm brown eyes cold enough to mirror Taeyong’s own icy gaze.

You weren’t surprised Taeyong was taking so long, to be honest he probably was cleaning up dinner because he couldn’t bear to leave it out. You smiled to yourself, sitting up in bed and pulling his favorite blanket around you. Inhaling his scent, you thought of how much Taeyong really meant to you, that you could bear being in a world without Yuta.


All those comforting thoughts flew out the door the moment, said call boy walked through your bedroom door. You gave a startled cry, “Yuta?!”

He didn’t say a word, simply crawling onto the bed with the eyes of a lion sizing up his prey. You shuffled back, hitting the head board as you searched for something to defend yourself with. Scrambling eyes met a familiar pair at the door and you sagged in relief, “Tae-”

Yuta interrupted you with his mouth, connecting his lips to yours in what was a familiar dance. You knew the way Yuta kissed up and down, but you weren’t prepared for how roughly he bit your lip and cupped your face. The call boy was a lover, but you’d never seen him treat you this passionately, or this roughly.

You whimpered into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slide in as his hands wandered over your naked body and pull the blanket away. Your eyes sought Taeyong, but your boyfriend was busy undressing himself, allowing you a glimpse of his absolutely gorgeous body. You watched him intently, allowing Yuta to do most of the work as you lusted over the incredible bulge that strained against your boyfriend’s grey briefs. How badly you wanted Taeyong in that moment, you couldn’t say, mainly because Yuta was preoccupying your time with his devilish mouth.

“Oh, Yuta,” you breathed, the boy’s mouth running down your neck and sucking hickeys there, painfully dark bruises blossomed along your neck like some type of erotic flower.

“Hm,” he hummed, savoring the taste of your skin and the amount of solo time Taeyong was allowing him to be with you.

You felt like you were swimming in affection and pleasure, Yuta’s mouth and hands sinful, and his expression to die for. He almost purred when you slid your hands down his chest and caressed the bulge in his pants, whispering your name, “_______.”

Your core ached for Yuta, and so did your heart for some odd reason. But the moment you felt more weight be added to the bed, all thoughts flew form your mind.

Taeyong had a kind of dominance and power that even made other guys intimidated by his prescience and charisma. When something was his, or he was in his own home, this dominance amped up ten notches. And for some reason, when he was in this mood, you would become increasingly more submissive, eager to see what he would do and ready to comply as well.

Yuta could feel power emanating from Taeyong, but remained steadfast. Always the gentleman, he moved aside so that your boyfriend could capture your lips and cage you into his embrace. You let him slide his tongue over your neck, shivering from the feeling, your hips automatically coming up to grind gently against his.

“Baby girl,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over your skin. “Let me take care of you.”

You nodded, hands snaking up around his neck as his hand wandered down to tease your now throughly soaked lower lips. You whimpered pitifully, arching into Taeyong so as to feel more of his bare skin against yours, “Please, Daddy.”

He hushed you gently, slipping a finger into your awaiting womanhood and rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves deliciously, “Patience, kitten,” he chided, thrusting a finger in and out of you, “Daddy will make you feel good, don’t worry.”

He added another finger, shooting a secret smirk over to Yuta who was pouting and undressing himself, right now he wasn’t doing so good trying to win you over. He palmed his erection, watching the way Taeyong’s long fingers slid in and out of you so easily. He grew harder as the sound of your whimpers and moans reached his ears, daring to crawl over to you and kiss you lips. Surprisingly Taeyong let him, being the nice guy who actually never finished last, this didn’t worry him too much.

Yuta brushed your hair from your face lovingly, making your heart swell in your passion as he smiled at you, “Does that feel good, princess?” You nodded and he sighed, looking at you wryly, “Too bad you’re going to feel even better when I put my hands on you.”

You quivered from his words, “Kiss me Yuta,” he waited, obviously wanting obedience, “Please!”

He smiled again, coming down to kiss you so beautifully it hurt. Yuta kissed you like the movies, where it seemed just too magical to happen in real life. Well, Yuta made that fantasy a reality and kissed you like two movie stars would embrace in the rain after having been separated for years.

Taeyong watched this with narrowing eyes, continuing to pleasure you as you liked, and feeling your shaky hand rub him through his briefs. It was enough to satiate him for now, but he felt jealousy beginning to bubble up inside of him.

Yuta had taken the liberty of caressing your breasts, giving them hard squeezes in his warm hands, his head leaning down to suck on your peaks. You mewled and arched into his mouth, body going into overdrive as the pleasure overwhelmed you. Taeyong sped up his fingers, thrusting them so hard into you that you rocked back and made the headboard knock against the wall. He dipped his head down and attached his lips to your clit, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves until you were begging for him to let you come.

“Daddy, please!,” you squirmed, latching onto Yuta’s hair with your hands. “Let me come, let me come, let me come, let-”

You threw your head back in a silent scream, the air leaving your lungs as your orgasm washed over you, body brimming with the heavy feeling of release.

“What a good girl,” Yuta simpered, pressing kisses over your face and neck as you let out ragged breathes while Taeyong prolonged your orgasm.

After what seemed like minutes, Taeyong continued to finger fuck and suck on your clit, the overpowering feeling of overestimulation causing your thighs to twitch. Your voice was shaky and tears plunged down your cheeks, “S-stop, please…enough.” Weak hands attempted to push Taeyong away, but he was strong and gripped your thighs tightly, eager to bring you to a second orgasm by his hands and tongue.

And so you did, body shaking uncontrollably as Taeyong made you come for the second time, the hypnotic taste of your essence on his tongue as he groaned into your womanhood. Yuta moaned at the sight, jerking off his weeping cock until precum leaked down his hands and he ached to be inside of you, feeling the way your walls tightened around him.

The call boy couldn’t help himself as Taeyong pulled away from your center, who licked the corners of his mouth and saw the desperate expression on his friend’s face. He quirked his head, “What’s wrong Yuta,” he said as he pulled his briefs off and positioned himself at your entrance as he flipped you over. “Giving up?”

Yuta gritted his teeth, looking at the way your eyes silently pleaded for him to stay, to keep going. You didn’t say it, but he knew you thought of it.

You didn’t want just one man in your life, you loved two.

“Yuta,” you whimpered, reaching out a hand to grasp his slick cock, “Please.”

His hands trembled, looking up at Taeyong with fire, “Never.”

With that, Taeyong slid inside of you, eliciting one of the most disgustingly satisfied sounds from you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your jaw dropped, giving Yuta the opportunity to carefully insert his member into your mouth. You gagged at first, tears pricking at your eyes as you relaxed your throat and let Yuta slide his cock in deep.

You hummed around him, and everytime Taeyong rocked into you, Yuta slid further down your throat. It felt like you’d never been in a more erotic situation and you felt like an absolute slut, but you couldn’t help the way you felt.

Yuta spoke your thoughts, “See Taeyong? ______ is a slut who is so selfish she can’t have just one man to herself.”

Taeyong let out a small grunt from the amount of power he was putting into his thrusts, head tilting back in ecstasy as he replied, “I knew it all along.” He brought a hand down onto your ass so that it jiggled before his eyes, “I say she should get just what she asked for, what do you think?”

Yuta smirked, grabbing your head with both hands so he could control how deep you took him, “She deserves that and more.” Something changed between the two of them, instead of two opposing forces, they were one against you.

Your chin dribbled with spit, Yuta showing no mercy as he fucked your mouth, letting out ragged moans whenever your teeth would graze his length. You didn’t understand what they meant at all, had you been tricked? You didn’t have much time to think, your body getting pummeled from both sides as you were stretched wide by Taeyong and deep throated Yuta. You felt so incredibly dirty, but it felt oh so good.

Taeyong reached around your hips, rubbing your clit so as to drive you toward your third release of the night, knowing your body was close to its breaking point. The lewd sounds of your wet choking and skin slapping against skin filled the air, causing your legs to tremble as they attempted to keep you up.

You felt so, so close.

Yuta could tell, urging your on with his words as he drew close as well, “Is that good princess? You like choking on my cock and getting your tight little pussy stretched by Taeyong’s too? Do you like getting fucked like this?”

You let out a stifled wail around his member as you came for the third time, the vibrations causing Yuta to release into your mouth with a loud groan as well. Taeyong sped up until he was practically fucking you at an animalistic pace, his hips snapping into a stuttering halt as he came inside of your dripping center, groaning, “Fuck, baby girl.”

You breathed hard through your nose as you Yuta pulled his member from your mouth, feeling as Taeyong kissed down your spine before pulling out gingerly too. His cum dripped down your legs, and Yuta, still eager to please you licked it all right up until he came to your sensitive center. He sucked lazily on you and lapped at your folds like a kitten while Taeyong massaged your tense body and kissed you passionately. Your mind felt absolutely fuzzed out, body alight with pleasure and only able to process your mouth moving against Taeyong’s and your hips shifting softly into Yuta’s mouth as he tasted you.

It felt like hours before you found yourself tucked between the two of them, dazed and confused. You looked at the both of them, who sandwiched you and let their fingers trail down your body languidly, “Why?”

“Why what?,” Taeyong echoed, arching a dark brow and allowing one of your hands to comb through his jet black hair. “Is there something wrong?”

“Weren’t you mad at Yuta?,” you murmured, reaching for the call boy’s hand instinctively, to which he squeezed back reassuringly.

Said call boy smiled at you gently, the afterglow of sex making him look like a god, “We had a talk. I admit that I did cross the line and let my feelings get in the way a few times, but I can’t help the way I feel.” He kissed your temple softly, “The way I feel about you, _____.”

Taeyong wore a lazy smile at seeing your confused expression, “So the truth finally comes out.” You looked completely shocked, so he traced your Cupid’s bow with his finger, “_______, if you’re open to it. Yuta and I are willing to try something else, a different kind of relationship.”

Your heart leaped at just the thought, thinking you’d finally be able to be happily with both the men you loved, but stuttered in hesitation, “B-but what about family, Taeyong? Marriage?”

Yuta spoke up, “We decided that Taeyong should be the ‘official boyfriend’ and perhaps one day, even your husband. He knew you first and best after all.”

“And you’re okay with this Yuta?,” you asked, resting a hand on his cheek.

He held your hand against his face, kissing your palm sweetly, “I think I am. As long as I can be with you I’ll be perfectly happy.”

“So,” Taeyong nudged you, grabbing back your attention. “Are you willing to try?”

You nodded, pulling the both of them into an embrace as you kissed their heads and felt completely at peace. You knew last time you felt like this was when you first slept with Yuta and Taeyong together, but it felt different now. You felt more sure, even more content, and knew that everything truly was going to work out this time.

So you drifted off, Taeyong nuzzled into neck and Yuta curling up into your side. Interlacing your fingers with theirs and waking up in the same position in the morning, the dawn breaking on your new life. A life even more different than before.

But you could just feel it.

Everything was going to be okay.

Stay Professional! Final

NSFW! Work AU! Explicit smut, some fluff and slight angst? : Jungkook x Reader

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13

Summary: Jeon Jungkook’s persistence landed him a place in your heart- although a special spot for him was already there to begin with. He was more than just a pretty face. Not only was he exceptionally skilled in bed, he’d gotten to a point where he lived to spoil you… in more ways than one. 

A/N: This is the last chapter of Stay Professional! Quite possible that it’s the most steamy chapter too! Please be aware that this chapter involves explicit smut! NSFW! Derogatory terms, dirty talk, over-sensitivity, spanking.. just full on rough and kinky fucking. Read at your own risk! DomJungkook! x SubReader

You opened your eyes slowly due to the blinding sunlight that pierced through Jungkook’s polished glass windows. You patted around the king-sized mattress, in search of a warm body that’d hugged you all night long. A small smile spread upon your lips at the memories of the passionate love-making the night before. 

“Jungkook?” You called out in an unusual nasal morning voice and waited for a response as you stretched and bathed in the morning sunlight. 

A quick shuffle of feet trotted from across the hallway and Jungkook immediately made an appearance, an effervescent grin on his radiant face. 

“Yes?” He beamed and crouched over your small frame to plant a loving kiss on your forehead. 

You couldn’t help but let your grin grow as big as his from the loving actions he’d spoilt you with. You suddenly noticed that you weren’t wearing anything underneath the white sheets so you pulled them up higher above your chest and Jungkook’s grin turned into a smirk. 

“You can’t suddenly get shy now, can you?” He licked his lips and briefly brushed them over yours, a quick peck to temporarily satisfy his growing desire to relive last night. 

“Don’t tempt me again, sweetheart.” He planted raspberries down your neck and you giggled at the sensation of his soft lips and puffs of air from his cheek. “This time, I really will punish you.” 

Keep reading

World’s Best Dad (Part 6)

Originally posted by deanjackles

Summary: Dean and the reader have their date night and do some last minute preparations before heading on their trip…

World’s Best Dad Masterlist

Pairing: single parent!Dean x kindergarten teacher!reader

Word Count: 5,400ish

Warnings: language, smut (if you want to skip, pop down to the bolded sentence right after a break and you’re good to go)

A/N: I freaking LOVE this series…

Keep reading

Stuck -- Bughead Au

Work Count: 1,987

Rated: PG-13

A/N: In which Betty and Jughead live in the same building and meet on the elevator. And well… let just say they hit it off :)

“Hold the elevator!” Betty shouted, breathless as she rushed through the lobby of her new apartment building. Her once perky ponytail was hanging a little lower on her head and god did her feet hurt. Betty wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to navigating New York City. She’d gotten off the subway one stop too early and ended up walking ten blocks home to her apartment in high heels.

Just as the elevator doors were about to close a hand shot out and pushed the doors open again. Betty pushed her purse back up on her shoulder and slipped through the doors leaning against the far wall.

“Rough night, Betty?” The boy sharing the elevator with her was mirroring her position, leaning against the opposite wall, his leather clad arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m sorry, have we met?”

The boy tapped a finger to his chest, just over his heart, then pointed to her. “You’re wearing a nametag.”

Betty glanced down at her outfit. Of course, she’d forgotten all about the nametag. In fact, Betty was trying to forget about the whole night.

“I’m Jughead, by the way.” The dark haired boy said after a short moment. “It’s only fair you know my name too.”

Betty reached up and tightened her ponytail, then reached a hand across the small space between them. “Nice to meet you, I suppose.”

Jughead’s large, slightly calloused hand enveloped Betty’s small soft one.

Suddenly, the elevator stopped moving, making Betty slip a little. Jughead caught her elbow, holding her steady. 

When she was back on her feet, Jughead knelt down in front of the panel of buttons. Door Open. No luck.  He hit the call button, and after waiting for over a minute, there was no answer. “Damn management. Probably spooning his whiskey bottle in the storage closet again.” Jughead pulled his beanie off his head, running his hand through his hair.

“What do we do then?” The blonde girl asked, she was digging through her purse and pulled out a cell phone. “Dammit, it’s dead.”

Jughead shook his head. “Wait? I guess?” He put his hat back on, suddenly self conscious with this beautiful girl watching him. “I’ll keep trying the call button, but I don’t think we’ll have any luck. I think we should just listen in case someone passes by.” Jughead slid to the floor, while Betty remained standing, hands clenched at her side. Jughead couldn’t help but watch her.

On her wrist he saw an orange paper band, the kind that you would get at a music festival or carnival. Given how crisp and pristine this particular band was, she must’ve gotten it recently. That only told Jughead one thing, not that he had a lot of experience in that area.

“So, speed dating, huh?”

Betty pulled her hands back, hiding them both behind her back. How did he know? “What would make you say that?” Betty was embarrassed to say the least. A guy like him was nothing like her; cool, confident… sexy. His black leather jacket directly opposed her soft pink cardigan. Combat boots and ballet slippers; the black haired boy and the blonde haired girl sharing the elevator would clearly have nothing in common. He probably has girls fawning over him at every bar he goes to, while Betty has stooped so low as to try speed dating.

Jughead waved a hand nonchalantly. “I had a friend once who would go speed dating to pick up girls, he thought it was easier to keep up a large ‘Chick List’ as he called it. All of the girls he met were looking for someone and he said that he would be that someone.”

When Betty didn’t respond, Jughead got a little nervous. Surely she didn’t care about his friend’s seduction techniques. Quick, he had to salvage the conversation. “Anyway, what does orange mean?”

Betty slid to the floor next to him.  There was no point now; she couldn’t salvage her dignity at this point. “It’s uh- woman seeking man.” She paused, when he remained silent she continued. “You’d be surprised at how many women seeking women tried to hit on me though.”

“I take it the night didn’t go as planned?”

“Is it that obvious?” Betty let out a slight giggle. “Wow, I must be pretty pathetic.”

“Just a guess. I mean, you’re coming home alone so…”

Betty scowled. “You know, not every girl goes home with just anyone. I’m not that desperate.”  

Back pedal, back pedal. “Oh, no no no. That’s not what I meant. I just thought, you know, a guy would be crazy to not want to go home with you, or at least buy you a drink after…” He glanced at his watch. “…nine-thirty.”

“Well, thanks I guess.”

“Also,” The boy next to her paused, breath caught in his throat. “For the record, if I’d been there I would have been trying to talk to you all night. I bet you were the most beautiful girl there.”

Betty barked out a laugh. “I’m sure there were other girls that were more your type.”

Jughead turned to face Betty. He smirked and raised an eyebrow at the beautiful blonde sitting next to him.

“What?” Betty smiled. She couldn’t help it, this boy was really tempting to her. She was new to the city, no friends, no boyfriend, she was lonely. And this boy, Jughead, was nothing like any of the guys she knew in high school. They were all jocks, who liked to drink beer in the woods around Sweetwater River and have sex in the backseat of the car at the drive in. She wasn’t sure what kind of guy Jughead was, but at this point she didn’t know if she cared.

“What exactly do you think my type is?”

As if it wasn’t obvious what his type was. “Black nail polish, pointy eyeliner, purple hair, miniskirt with fishnet tights and combat boots. Am I getting anywhere here?”

“You’re all wrong.” He slid a little closer to her so their shoulders touched. “My type is pastel sweaters, pink lip gloss, and blonde ponytails.”

Jughead watched closely as Betty’s cheeks blushed pink, her lips attempting to hide a smile. Jughead didn’t hold back his smile. He’d never felt what the world called butterflies in the stomach, but he was feeling them now. He was scared to say another word, that he might ruin the moment. He didn’t dare move, because then her gorgeous green eyes might look away and he desperately wanted to keep looking at her.

Betty opened her mouth as if to say something, but paused when Jughead leaned closer, his breath warm against her face. They were only inches apart now, Betty noticed, as Jughead’s hand brushed the soft fabric of her cardigan. She reciprocated, allowing her thumb to brush over his other hand and latch onto his leather jacket. Her eyes flicked to his lips, which were parted just slightly, and she finally let the full smile shine through as they both simultaneously pulled the other closer.

The kiss was rougher than Jughead expected, especially considering he’d just met the girl, but he wasn’t complaining. After all, they could be stuck in this elevator for a long time. Betty was now gripping his jacket at the waist and Jughead slid his hands up her arms to rest at her cheeks and swears he’s never felt anything so soft in his life.

Betty knew she shouldn’t do it, but her body was in control now. She shifted onto her knees and climbed onto Jughead’s lap. She slipped her hands under his jacket and tugged a little at the wife beater he wore underneath. She didn’t want anything more, just a little skin, so she let her hands wander under the fabric to rest just above his waistline. Jughead flinched, making Betty pause. “Shit…” She pulled her hands away, beginning to back away, but soon hands were latched behind her back.

The boy underneath her looked much less intimidating now. His lips were wet, slightly shiny with the gloss from Betty’s lips. His jacket had fallen slightly off his shoulders with the shirt underneath still hitched up just slightly. One of his hands gripped the fabric at her lower back, lifting it slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. Betty didn’t move, even as his other hand tickled her back until he pressed it flat and pulled her closer again. With his free hand, Jughead put a hand to her neck pulling her just close enough that their lips brushed again. “Your hands are freezing.” He whispered. “But I’ll allow you to put them back if you’ll kiss me again.”

Betty didn’t wait for a second invitation and fully removed his jacket and started on his shirt. When he was effectively naked from the waist up, aside from his crown-inspired beanie, Jughead popped the one button holding her cardigan together, and tugged at the blouse beneath, though he knew he shouldn’t. Shit, they might have security cameras in here, though with a quick glance around he didn’t see any. And anyway, Betty was already pulling the shirt over her head.

Jughead blinked slowly, taking in the figure before him. He decided then and there that he would do whatever she wanted, but maybe… just maybe, they should wait for later. Then Betty combed her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck and pulled his lips to her neck, and Jughead really really liked the way she tasted. So he flipped her around, pushing her up again the wall of their perfect little prison, and kissed her again. His lips wandered from time to time, making a path of bites down her neck and to her collarbone where he nipped and sucked at the soft skin of her breasts. And Betty moaned softly, sliding her fingers just under the waistband of his jeans.

“I was thinking.” Jughead started, still pressing kisses all over her available skin. “That we shouldn’t go any farther…” Betty pouted, her fingers playing with the elastic of his underwear, teasing. “Until we get out of here.”

“Come on, Jug.” She argued, and god did he like the way she said ‘Jug.’ She flipped their position again, regaining her spot on top of him. “Don’t you want me? I promise I’m not as boring as I look.” She quirked an eyebrow at him, smiling.

“Trust me, you don’t even know…” Jughead’s voice caught in his throat when Betty wiggled her hips, and groaned at how obvious his erection was becoming. “You have no idea what I want to do to you right now.”

Betty smirked. “Then do it.” She said, catching his lips between her teeth. He let himself be consumed by her again, not having the energy to pull away. When she pulled his hands and led them to the clasp of her bra he woke up, slowly easing his hands down.

“The things I want to do,” He growled, “Can’t be done in an elevator.”

Betty smiled at him again and peeled herself away. “That’s all I needed to hear.” She grabbed her blouse from where it had been discarded on the floor, and threw Jughead’s clothes back toward him. “So, maybe we should get to know each other a little better before we get out of here.

Jughead smiled, not believing how his night had turned out.


The janitor discovered that the elevator was stuck at six o'clock the next morning, when he came in to clean the halls. The fire department arrived, rescuing the two stuck in there for the past nine hours. What they’d expected was not what they found. A blonde haired girl covered in a black leather jacket, resting her head on the leg of a black haired boy in a beanie with a pink cardigan wedged in the space between his neck and shoulder; both fast asleep.


A/N: Thanks for reading! This was my first ever Bughead fic and I wrote it in a day. I just really wanted to get something out there so it’s not my best work. Let me know what you think and if I should do a part two just to round off the story. I’m thinking we could all use a little more smut in our lives?

“Deconstructing Patti”

I was lucky to attend Deconstructing Patti tonight and it was a TRIP so I am writing this entire fucking research paper so all you guys can live vicariously through me.

-First thing, because I know this is what y’all came to hear: BI COMPANY! It sucks that Joanne won’t be a lesbian, but Patti says there is at least one gay pairing with the other suitors. Joanne will have a much, much younger husband. Either they haven’t finished re-writing or Patti just doesn’t have a script yet because that’s all she knows. They start rehearsing August 6th of 2018.



-Patti pre-recorded the “no taping, no cellphones message” with a wonderful snarl on cellphones then says, “but disregard that entirely, have a ball tonight” but I still didn’t see A SINGLE CELL PHONE the entire time. No one was willing to risk that shit, even with express permission from Patti herself.

-She looks fucking amazing. I’ve only ever seen her in costume on stage before. She had on a short little sparkly blue dress with long sleeves. Her hair looked fantastic. Incredibly hard to believe she’s 68. She starts with Some People and the vibrato is A+++

- PATTI NEEDS A HIP REPLACEMENT. So it turns out this is the big reason she was not planning on doing musicals after War Paint. She had sort of hinted at injuries and age, but it’s actually quite severe. She really could not walk well tonight and it was kinda heartbreaking because she looks and acts so youthful. She had a painful looking limp. At the same time, she refused to change out of her very high heels. She had brought out flats just in case and Seth encouraged her to change, but she would rather limp fabulously. Incredible.

- She picked up Company because of Marianne Elliott. She wants to work with female directors. Late career Patti is a hardcore feminist.

-Christine comes out for “Face to Face”. She looks gorgeous. Scott Frankel comes out to play piano very  impressively.

Christine: “How much do we love Patti?” Lots of Applause.

Patti: “How much do we love Christine?” Lots of Applause.

Patti, semi-jokingly, looking at Christine, in low, sultry voice: “How much do we love each other?” Me: dies. Fucking fan service, Patti LuPone.

Christine talks about how one of Patti’s massive Helena necklaces fell apart during the final scene of War Paint a few days ago. At first, it just dropped to the ground. Patti tried to stuff it in her purse but it didn’t fit. She’s struggling with it so she leaves it on the table. It’s like a triple strand of pearls and they are falling everywhere intermittently, like punctuation to every line. Plunk…plunk……plunk plunk plunk. It’s a total mess and the stage is covered in pearls. Christine gets to the line where she guesses what’s in Helena’s lipstick, beeswax, etc…and freshwater pearl for shine and the audience dies.


When Helena is “writing” in War Paint, Patti actually writes a diary about the audience and stuff. She’s got a huge stack of pages from the beginning of the run. A few paraphrased excerpts:

My personal favorite: “Han… what does this say? Hangover Tuesday. Oh..”

“Tina Fey in audience today, we’re saved” sarcasm hahaha

“That’s just a doodle”

“This Great Comet drama is EXCITING *Patti cringes, next one is also about Great Comet* “Okay I’m not reading those” (omg)

Seth takes this huge stack of pages and auctions it on stage for Equity Fights Aids.

Patti adds, “Wait, how much would you give if I read all of them to you over drinks at the St. Regis?”

Seth: “You get Patti’s stack of notes. Please put them on Instagram. There’s many inappropriate ones she refused to read. Also, Patti LuPone herself will read her notes to you over dinner.

Patti: “Not dinner.” (She’s not buying you dinner LOLOLOL)


- Seth: “Patti has a lot of feelings about the President”

-Patti tells a story about working as a waitress at a skeevy bar with some skeevy guys in college, one of whom somehow got them down into the foundations of Juilliard and stuck a gun into the small of her back, sort of jokingly to scare her. She hears herself telling this story, “Wow, I am the picture of class”

-Howard McGillin, Billy to Patti’s Reno in the 1987 Anything Goes joins Patti on stage, they sing “You’re The Top” together. Seth asks Patti how she came up with the sexy Reno characterization.

Patti: “It’s inherent in the lyrics. Like Blow, Gabriel Blow” *Audience Laughs*

Patti: Oh, that’s not what I mean. Oh! I mean the lines “Good by day, good by night in that song”

Oh my god, not BLOW Gabriel. Oh, no.

Seth: What’s sexy about good by day, good by night?

Patti: You know!

Seth: I don’t!

Patti: She’s good by day and …good….by night, oh, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!

-Patti’s drinking a huge glass of Prosecco:

She sips happily for awhile. “Oh, I feel sick from the wine”. Getting a little clumsy.

10 minutes later: “Never mind, I feel good now. It’s like when you have a drug and you’re like ugh this is awful, give me another!”

30 minutes later, she’s polished off most of her wine, the third encore is “With One Look”, she gets one bar in, stops abruptly: “Oh, I have to burp, I’m sorry”. Audience dies.  She’s so embarrassed. So cute hahahaha

-Patti on her Glenn Close rehabilitation:

I didn’t want to sing Sunset, because I didn’t want people to think there are sour grapes. It’s Glenn’s role in New York. Mine in London. So I wasn’t gonna sing it in New York *pauses, thinking*… so I’ll sing the London version *laughter*

- Starts choking up when talking about the ephemeral beauty of theatre (good vocab word, Patti) and how it exists mostly in memory

-Patti talked about how she loves imperfect voices with soul a hundred times more than a perfect instrument with no feeling. Perfect voices are nothing without soul, but also people who sing with soul must be imperfect. Interesting. That’s why she doesn’t like to listen to a lot of today’s Broadway singers. She listens to Joni Mitchell.

-She made the final call back for the Sweet Charity national tour at 17, but didn’t get the part. She never booked any professional rolls before Juilliard. Patti: “Do they still even do cattle calls?” Seth: “Yes, people still audition, Patti. Omg.”

- The Magaldi guy from the Deconstructing Patti London concert YouTube video, flew out to NY to serve as random Magaldi guy again when Seth called him. A couple of us asked for his autograph and he absolutely flipped a shit he was so excited “THIS NEVER HAPPENS IN LONDON”

-Che was sung by Raul Esparza for several songs. “Well this is a fucking dream come true” he said about singing with Patti. There was also an original Evita cast member who sang the word HAIR in

“Eyes, hair, mouth, figure 
Dress, voice, style, movement”

He joins them on stage to sing the word HAIR in “Rainbow High” He is my new hero. She struggles a bit with Rainbow High “Well, there’s one for my next voice lesson”

-Frances Ruffelle, the original Eponine on the West End and Broadway, came out to sing with Patti. She didn’t sing very well, but Patti was very emotional to hear her sing again

-When Patti was in the chorus for the barricade scenes in Les Mis she had to pick a “job”. She really did not want to be in the chorus so she just picked what the guy next to her was doing which was smelting She wasn’t even really sure what a smelter does so she goes out there and pantomimes smelting some hot metal over a bale of hay. The director is like “Patti, you’re an idiot”. The next night, she goes out there and smelts over the hay again, pretends the hay caught on fire, and spends the scene silently putting out her hay fire

-She doesn’t really like the current production of Hello, Dolly! because she does not like how it’s a recreation of Carol Channing’s productions without any new discovery for the actors allowed by the director

-Patti: “You used to be able to get to the theatre. Now Times Square is all focused on a Hershey bar!” Seth: “A Hershey bar? A single bar?”

-Sings “Trouble” from The Music Man 10x better than in the YouTube video. FANTASTIC.

-Seth talked a lot about how a lot of her habits would be considered unprofessional, like how she always looks out at the audience before shows.

Patti: That’s not unprofessional!

Seth: It is. You peering out with your Evita wig on!

Patti: Yeah, well with Evita, I would get caught! People would wave to me so I’d just wave back!

Well, I want to see the guy who hates my guts, who will be the hardest to convince. I want to play to him. At this show, I looked out and saw everyone fanning themselves. So I went back and said TURN UP THE AC THE PEOPLE ARE HOT OUT THERE. You gotta take care of your audience.

-Patti on Lack of Common Sense (paraphrased): “I’ve never had any savvy-dressing for auditions, re-booking canceled flights. I thought I was supposed to stand behind the taped line in the A Chorus Line theatre at my Evita audition, so I took a big step in front of it. It was just the line in A Chorus Line. My brother was in A Fucking Chorus Line. I’d seen it. Several times. Still didn’t make that connection. Yet, I heard about auditions and things. Not sure where I found out about that stuff at all! That’s how you know it’s meant to be. I just found out about these casting calls even though I was clueless.  

-Patti and Seth fight over ALW:

Seth: He’s great [in Evita].

Patti: *Makes disgusted face*

Seth: No this really is great.

Patti: It’s not.

Seth: Turn her mike off.

-She ends with the Ladies Who Lunch. You can tell she’s working on her character for the revival. It’s very different from her Lonny Price version, seems much darker and more subdued. I’m excited to see what she develops.

-I’ve heard her live before but it’s still such a shock to me. Her voice is nothing short of incredible. Her high tones are less crystalline in her older age, but her low tones are so much richer. I thought her voice sounded a little raspy, like she was losing it, but it didn’t keep her from hitting any of those belts (except Rainbow High, which was kinda mean of Seth lol) I’m going to War Paint closing night in December. She didn’t come out the stage door tonight so I have my fingers crossed for December. 

Hope you guys feel like you were there with me! I know a lot of you wish you could be there so I wanted to be thorough. Let me know if you have any questions!

Flowers for my Girl - an Everlark drabble

Originally posted by warlockmagnsbane

My very talented and lovely friends @thegirlfromoverthepond and @litlifelover joined me in another drabble challenge. 

We assigned ourselves ‘flowers’ for the topic, 1,500 words max. This is what I came up with.  Rated G.

(Thanks to @peetabreadgirl for eyeballing my words)

Edited to add: Find their drabbles here: Flowers and here: Roses are Red, Violets are Blue

He takes entirely too long at the airport flower shop, moving from bouquet to bouquet, looking for the right one. Though Peeta Mellark isn’t usually indecisive, he wants the flowers to be perfect. He wants everything to be perfect, for her. It’s a special day, after all. It’s not every day you get to meet the girl of your dreams for the first time.

And he’s been waiting so very long for this day.

The florist grins as he wraps the stems in paper. “Special lady?” he asks, and Peeta can’t resist pulling out his phone to show the older man the picture she’d texted him last night. “She’s a beauty,” he says, and Peeta nods. He’s already memorized every pixel of the photo, traced every curve and line with his eyes. Thick, jet-black hair, smooth olive-tinted skin, plush lips puckered in just a hint of a pout. She’s the most gorgeous thing Peeta has ever seen. He’s absolutely head over heels in love with her, and they haven’t even met in person yet.

But today is finally the day.

Keep reading

Behind the Scenes of 'Beauty and the Beast'
The film’s stars and creators share memories of shooting in a French village on a stage outside London

Before production began, Emma Watson worked closely with Bill Condon and Dan Stevens to polish the script, adding what she calls “detail and depth and fullness and wholeness to the scenes.” She also focused on fine-tuning Belle’s character, expanding beyond what little was established in the 1991 film. Says Watson: “There was never very much information or detail at the beginning of the story as to why Belle didn’t fit in, other than she liked books.” Lots and lots of books, like the ones she’s holding here as she takes direction from Condon in the library. Later in the movie we also learn where Belle and her father lived before moving to the “little town full of little people.” It’s a city that holds special meaning for Watson. “l sing a song called ‘Paris of My Childhood,’ which was odd for me to sing because I was born in Paris and my childhood was in Paris,” she says. “It’s a sweet melody, a really lovely song.”

For the “poor provincial town” that Belle longs to escape, the crew built a real French village on the Shepperton back lot, providing a dramatic contrast between this cozy setting and the imposing castle nearby. Greenwood says her team combed French towns looking for a place to shoot, and though they found candidates in Conques and near Paris, when it came time to discuss bringing cast and crew to these actual villages, they realized it would be easier to create one from scratch. “As much as I thought it should be real, how could you say, 'No, I don’t want to build a French village on the back lot’? So we built it,” Greenwood explains. “That was great because we could then hybrid all the things we’d seen and put all the best elements into our village.” Including a wandering French rooster. Cocorico!

Kevin Kline’s wayward Maurice, Belle’s father, finds himself lost in the woods near the Beast’s castle on his way to sell his music boxes at the market. If he looks safe here, he won’t be for long. “I spent so much time getting pushed around,” Kline says with a laugh. “I noticed it after a couple of weeks, and I said to Bill, 'I’m on the floor again.’ [Maurice] is sort of the fall guy, so I get roughed up a lot!” As fans of the fairy tale will remember, Belle’s papa eventually reaches the Beast’s castle, a majestic but creepy estate Kline describes as “disquieting” to see in person. “It wouldn’t be my first choice if I weren’t stuck in a snowstorm and being pursued by these ravenous wolves,” he quips. Production designer Sarah Greenwood says she and her team emphasized the castle’s magic and grandeur in the grounds and exteriors nearby: “The whole landscape became part of the enchantment.”

It’s easy to become blasé when you’re an actor used to working on lavish productions. But the Beauty and the Beast cast never tired of their surroundings. “I remember the first time Emma Thompson and I saw the ballroom set and our jaws dropped because it’s just so gorgeous,” says Gugu Mbatha-Raw, who plays Plumette. The majestic ballroom was the perfect setting for the final number, when the Beast and all the household objects return to their human form. “Just breathing it in, from the costumes to the flowers to the music, and everybody dancing and swirling around in unison, there was a real magic to it.” The room also evolves with the story. “In the prologue, before he gets transformed into the Beast, it’s almost as opulent as Versailles,” set decorator Katie Spencer says. “Then it’s an echo of what happens to him, and then it comes back for the big celebration at the end.”

Filming Beauty and the Beast can be, well, a beast — at least for Luke Evans and Josh Gad, whose extra-macho Gaston and less-than-macho Le Fou shared bombastic scenes that sometimes led to mildly painful accidents. “We slapped hands so hard, [Josh] burst a blood vessel in his thumb,” Evans (right, with Gad and producer David Hoberman) recalls, laughing. “We had to stop rehearsals, get the medic in. He thought his finger was going to drop off, but I think he’ll survive. We just slapped hands hard, but obviously we just caught our thumbs at some point, and he’s a delicate flower.” But if they’re sounding too similar to their characters here, don’t worry: At least Gad can confirm that his hair in the film is completely fake. “If I had hair this good, I would not be doing Beauty and the Beast right now,” he deadpans. “I would be modeling.”

In this scene, Audra McDonald’s Madame de Garderobe sings for the prince just before he’s transformed into a hairy horned creature. De Garderobe craves attention, but McDonald herself responded a bit more modestly when she learned she’d won the role. “I was just shocked I was asked to be involved, to the point that when I was flying over there, I was like, 'Do they really want me to play her?’” she says. “I was pretty much in disbelief until they put the costume on me and shoved me out on-set.” Which then just made her even more speechless, of course. “When I walked on-set, it felt like I was walking into a dream.” Stanley Tucci, who plays de Garderobe’s maestro and husband, Cadenza, was also humbled by the splendor. “The scope of the set was enormous. They had these candelabras, these chandeliers coming from the ceiling with real candles. It was just stunning,” he says.

Sir Ian McKellen couldn’t wait to slip on that wig and mustache, especially since it meant working with a director he knows well. “I’ve done two films now with Bill Condon, and we’re always looking for a third,” the actor says. “It was absolutely typical of Bill that he wanted to have a few friends with him, so I was very, very thrilled to suddenly be in my first Disney movie.” Though most of McKellen’s work involved voicing his character Cogsworth, the actor says his favorite moment was finally meeting the cast in person for the final celebration. “There was one absolutely glorious day when went out and joined all the actors in doing the final scene, when all the characters in the castle come back to life and become real people,” he says. “So I did feel I was in the thick of it for at least a day, and singing and dancing was an absolute joy.”

halerogers  asked:

valentine's day fic prompt: first anniversary <3

This was supposed to be a short little ficlet but it turned into an almost 6k mess, so I hope you enjoy it, Charlie! (also on ao3!)

Derek had never celebrated an anniversary before. At least, not an anniversary for a romantic relationship.

In the past, he had never had the opportunity nor the necessity to. But now that he was dating Stiles, and had been for exactly a year now, he finally did.

Precisely a decade ago, way back in high school, he had only ever dated one person seriously and that had been Paige. Despite the fact that they had been together for several months, they had never celebrated an anniversary.

They had been too busy making out behind the bleachers and passing love notes and secretive looks in class, too preoccupied with being stupid teenagers to worry about anniversaries. Not when they could be focused on thinking about the next time they could slip away to some vacant broom closet or the backseat of a friend’s car.

And then Derek had made one of the worst, most disastrous decisions of his life, getting the idea in his head that things would be so much better if his girlfriend was a werewolf like him. Poor Paige had ended up dead, buried in the middle of the woods away from her family and friends in an unmarked grave by the Nemeton.

The only anniversary present she ever got from him was a funeral bouquet.

He had no anniversary to speak of with Kate. They had never even really been dating in the first place. It had taken him a long time, years, as a matter of fact, to finally realize that.

She had just been using. A much older woman seducing a vulnerable, naive teenager, manipulating him with sex for her own gains.

Unfortunately, it was only after the fire and years of intensive therapy that he realized she was nothing more than a monster.

It was almost the exact same situation with Jennifer, or rather Julia or whatever the hell her real name was. All she had done was use him for her own nefarious purposes, using a bit of dark magic to help her turn him into a pawn.

Luckily, he had come to terms with the fact that she too was nothing more than some kind of heartless monster. He wasn’t sure if it hurt more or less that time.

But it was different with Stiles. They were dating. Really dating. And it was wonderful. He didn’t think he had ever been happier.

After the frankly terrifying ordeal with the Nogitsune, the whole debacle nearly costing Stiles his life, Derek had finally mustered up enough courage and gall to act on his feelings for the beautiful, brave, infuriating boy. Steeling his nerves with a deep breath, Derek had thrown caution to the wind and strode right up to Stiles, carefully grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and kissing the daylights out of him.

Looking back, Derek had to admit that his timing had been absolutely terrible considering the fact that they had been in the middle of a crowded hospital room, right in front of the Sheriff and the rest of the pack. Admittedly, he hadn’t thought much about that, too busy making sure that Stiles knew how much he cared about him.

And if that meant that they shared their first kiss in front of all of their loved ones then so be it. He certainly didn’t regret it. Especially since shortly thereafter they had begun officially dating.

With turnabout being fair play, a few days after their first kiss, Stiles had strolled up to him in the middle of an important pack meeting to grab him by the lapels and tug him into a deep kiss. The chorus of raucous wolf whistles and fake gagging from the pack that greeted their kiss did absolutely nothing to detract from how meaningful and amazing it was.

Pulling back from the kiss, his big brown eyes still closed as he licked his lips, Stiles whispered a soft request, inquiring if Derek would like to go out to dinner with him sometime, maybe that upcoming Saturday. Derek had eagerly, suggesting one of the local Mom and Pop diners that he knew Stiles loved, drinking in the smile on Stiles’ gorgeous face with a beaming grin of his own when he said yes.

And now, exactly a year into their relationship, Derek was busy making preparations for what was both his and Stiles’ first anniversary and the first anniversary he had ever gotten to celebrate.

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{night and day. connor murpy x reader}

ahh !! my first imagine !

word count: 1408 

soulmate connor murphy au

warnings: swearing, a rushed ending probably, connor probably a lot ooc, too,,,,, many ,,,, commas,,,,,, also more italics than needed but i just love italics okay

summary: everyone is born with initials on their wrist. on your sixteenth birthday, a date is added. (i don’t specifically say that but that’s what happens). 

a/n: ahhh i know this feels rushed but i’ve had this account for a little over a week and i havent posted a fic yet but i just passed 200 followers!! so i felt i should put out a lil something. i’m a lil rusty so just bear with me. -megan

At birth, everyone is born with initials on their wrists. The initials were those of your soulmate. Someone the universe decided you’d be with for life. The person you were destined to be with. No one ever talked about soulmates when you were young, it was a private matter that your parents would discuss with you.

The small letters on your wrist curled elegantly, fascinating you for hours during childhood.  You always wondered what they meant, why they were there. It wasn’t until your fifth birthday that you finally decided to ask your parents.

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One Look (Eggsy Unwin x Reader)

@itswhatislife321 : Can you do an eggsy x reader please?? Where eggsy and the reader are together for years before he joins Kingsman and but then they find out the reader has a disease that leaves her wheelchair bound, but aside from that she’s fine and eggsy is pretty protective of her and always talks about her to his friends at the agency and when they ask to meet her they’re shocked at first but can help admire how much you could tell they love each other just by a single glance

A/N: oh my heart!! I love this request!! It’s so cute! Thank you so much for the request!! I hope you like it!! Enjoy!! xx

Warnings: too cute, a very rude man!

Originally posted by strippermuffins

Nothing could have prepared you for the news the doctor gave you on that fateful Saturday. Luckily, you had your best friend at your side to accept the news with you. Eggsy held your hand tightly, his brows furrowed. You glanced at him and he mustered up a supportive smile, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. 

The pair of you sat in your hospital room, you in your bed and Eggsy on the edge of your bed. “Everything is going to be alright, love. I promise,” he said, placing his other hand on your cheek. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and you smiled softly. 

The doctor walked into your room, clearing his throat. You both gave him your undivided attention. Eggsy squeezed your hand tightly. “Miss (Y/L/N), I’m afraid that this disease… will leave you wheelchair bound. I’m sorry.” 

You bit your trembling lip, holding back a sob. Eggsy wrapped you in his arms, his own warm tears dripping onto your head. You heard him whisper ‘thank you’ to the doctor. The doctor gave a hum and exited the room. Eggsy rocked you gently in his arms. “It’ll all be alright, ya? We can adjust to this together. I… I love you, (Y/N),” Eggsy whispered into your hair. That was the first time your childhood best friend had told you he loved you and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. 

“I love you too,” you mumbled into his chest. He held you tightly and you wished he would never let go.

For the next few months, Eggsy helped you get adjusted to your new life in a wheelchair. He would help you in and out of it, reach for things you couldn’t get, help you dress and undress… Whenever he wasn’t with his little sister or at his fancy tailoring job, he was with you. You were his whole world and him yours. You were his moon, his stars, his sun, and his sky. At least that’s the cheesy line he used one night when he took you out to dinner. 

Eggsy was looking very handsome in his new suit as he sat across from you. A small candle burned between the two of you. He refilled your wine glass and smiled at you. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, love,” he said. 

A blush crept onto your cheeks and you swirled your wine in your glass. “And you are absolutely handsome, Eggsy,” you replied with a broad smile. His dark eyes gazed at you softly as he rested his chin on the palm of his hand. 

“How did I get so lucky?” You giggled at this and took a sip of wine. As you brought the glass to your lips, you looked at Eggsy through your eyelashes, flashing him a wink. Like the dork he is, Eggsy fanned himself with his other hand, winking back at you. 

When you put your glass back down, someone tripped over one of the wheels of your chair. “Oh, I’m so sor…” you began to say, twisting in your seat to make sure the person was okay. 

“You inconsiderate cripple. You’re taking up the whole damn walk-way!” the man shouted. 

You clenched your jaw and looked away, used to negative comments such as that. Eggsy, however, jumped up from his seat and got right in the man’s face. “You better apologize to the lady, mate, or I’ll rearrange your face,” he hissed at him. 

The man just scoffed at Eggsy and readjusted his suit jacket. He began to walk away but Eggsy swiftly grabbed the umbrella he carried with him and hooked the handle around the man’s ankle, pulling his feet out from under him. The man’s nose cracked against the floor and he let out a scream. 

“Let’s go, babe,” Eggsy said flatly, tossing a wad of cash onto your table. He waited for you to quickly unlock your wheels and spin yourself towards the door. He followed closely behind you, the man tossing curses after the pair of you. 

“Eggsy, you didn’t have to do that,” you said, a little in shock of Eggsy’s actions. 

“Of course, I had to, (Y/N). He should have watched where he was going and he had no right to call you that. I won’t let people treat you like that,” he said through gritted teeth. You looked up at his face. His jaw was clenched and defined, his cheeks flushed and his eyes flickered in the moonlight. 

“Damn, you’re sexy when you’re angry,” you whispered. Although you had whispered, he heard you. He cocked his eyebrow and looked down at you with a devilish smirk.

“You know what would be sexier?” he said, his voice low and sultry.

You bit your lip and shook your head ‘no.’ 

He stepped behind you and took hold of the handles on your wheelchair. He bent over you, pressing a soft kiss behind your ear. “That dress on my floor,” he whispered. You giggled and bit your lip, excited for the night ahead of you.

Eggsy was always protecting you and being the perfect gentleman. You loved him with your whole heart. He loved you too. His fellow agents should know because he never shut up about you. On more than one occasion, Lancelot had to physically throw something at Eggsy to get him to shut up long enough for Merlin to finish a mission briefing. He was in the middle of telling a new recruit a story about how he binge watched the Lord of the Rings with you the other night. 

“Ouch, Lancelot! What the hell was that for?” he shouted, clutching the spot on his head where the pen had hit him. 

“Merlin is trying to brief us on an upcoming mission!” she shouted back. 

Merlin chuckled at the pair of them before saying, “It’s alright, Lancelot. You know, Galahad, I quite want to meet this girlfriend of yours.”

Eggsy perked up at that, a bright smile on his face. He loved showing off the woman he loved and adored and the idea of his friends meeting you excited him. “I’m sure she’d love to meet you all too! Come by the pub down on Lancing tonight and you all can meet her,” Eggsy said, his voice light and jubilant. 

That evening you and Eggsy made your way to your favorite pub. He came over to your place practically bouncing with excitement. You were going to meet his work friends tonight. You were a tad nervous. Eggsy didn’t talk about them much so you weren’t sure what to expect. 

He held the door open for you as you smoothly wheeled yourself inside. The mingling odors of varying alcohols and wood polish hit your nose. You looked around the crowded pub, trying to guess which group were Eggsy’s friends. It was pretty easy to figure out since they were all in suits just as nice as the ones Eggsy wore. With a hand on your shoulder, Eggsy led you towards the table his friends sat around. 

As you approached, they looked at you with surprise. It was a normal reaction when people met you. You brushed it off and gave them a smile. “Hi,” you chirped, “I’m (Y/N).” You reached out your hand to a tall, bald man. 

He smiled kindly at you and shook your hand with an iron grip as he said, “It is a pleasure to finally meet you. You can call me Merlin.”

You giggled a little at the name, thinking of the legendary wizard. The pretty blonde girl sitting next to him reached out her hand to you as she said, “I’m Roxy. It’s so nice to meet you. Eggsy never stops talking about you.”

Without even looking at Eggsy, you could picture him blushing deeply with a wide grin on his face. You blushed a little too at the thought of Eggsy talking about you. “I’m really happy to meet you all as well,” you said, smiling broadly. 

Merlin scooted his chair over to make room for you at the table. You slid in next to him and Eggsy sat across from you next to Roxy. You learned that Merlin did the logistics and management at the tailor Eggsy worked at while Roxy was also a tailor. You still found it remarkable that Eggsy would go into a profession like tailoring but you didn’t question it. 

At one point in the conversation, Roxy said teasingly, “I’m surprised that Eggsy could get a girlfriend as sweet and pretty as you.” Eggsy playfully sneered at her then turned his gaze to you.

His ocean blue eyes were soft and sparkled in the dim lighting. He had a soft smile on his face and his eyebrows were raised in adoration. The love he had for you seemed to radiate off of him. “I don’t know how I got so lucky,” he said, almost breathlessly. You blushed a deep red and glanced away for a moment, a shy smile creeping across your face. “I love you,” he said, his chin in his palm.

You looked up into his bright face and replied, “I love you too.”

“I don’t think you need to tell her that. Anyone would be able to tell you love her by the way you look at her,” Roxy said, in awe of the love you two had. 

“I’ve never seen a man look at a woman so fondly before,” Merlin said, just as in awe as Roxy. 

It was Eggsy’s turn to blush a deep crimson. You smiled widely at him and took his hand in yours. The rest of the evening was great. Merlin and Roxy were fantastic company and Eggsy seemed surprised at how humorous Merlin could be. Every now and then, you’d catch Eggsy looking at you with that same in-love expression. Roxy was right, he didn’t have to tell you. One look said it all. 

A/N: ohmygoodness!!! I’m sorry it took so long for me to get it out here!!! I really hope you liked it and that it is what you were hoping for!!! Keep sending in requests!! xx

Vincent Phantomhive headcanons

@midnight-in-town​ Happy Birthday, Daddy Watchdog!

- Vincent has no illusions about who he is, what he does, and what he’s intended to do. He is able to compartmentalize things/events with disturbing ease and his viciousness knows no bounds. Beneath that gentlemanly facade, Vincent has a dark—almost cruel—sense of humor and without his family, he may have succumbed (completely) to the Phantomhive malice. He is able to disguise most of his darker urges but it’s a false facade, hidden beneath a veneer of perfect charm and intellect.

- As a youth (and, tbh, as an adult) Vincent excelled in every field he put his mind to and quickly learned that station and status can have a greater impact on one’s future than raw talent alone.

- He is an excellent marksman with a steady hand, cool head, and sniper-level precision.

- Despite his apathetic view of the world and moral ambiguity, Vincent adores his baby sister Francis because she is able to fend for herself and, underneath her stern exterior, possesses a genuinely good heart. He terrorized any suitor he thought of as unworthy and initially wanted Francis to marry Queen Victoria’s third son, Prince Arthur. Having carefully cultivated the match, Vincent was quite irritated when Francis fell in love with Alexis Leon Midford but, in a rare show of true benevolence, agreed to the engagement when he realized Alexis was much easier to manipulate than a royal prince. 

- Once on a mission to Budapest, Vincent was severely injured in an unexpected explosion. Diedrich rushed inside the burning building, dragged “that insufferable Phantomhive” out of there, and then carried his former rival turned reluctant best friend turned partner on his back to the nearest medical facility, nearly twelve miles away.

- After, when Diedrich was framed by the Austro-Hungarian Empire for causing that explosion, Vincent gamely abandoned his planned business trip to New York and accompanied his faithful German hound to Budapest to clear his name. During that time Vincent pestered Diedrich with horribly timed knock knock jokes, bad puns, and a relentless flow of conversation that just never seemed to end. It was the only thing Vincent could think of to keep Diedrich from falling into despair. While many don’t see past Diedrich’s gruff exterior and draconian discipline, Vincent knows that one of the things his old friend cherishes above all else is his sense of honor and duty. 

- It was Vincent and Francis who arranged the engagement between Ciel and Elizabeth. Vincent desperately wanted his child to have knowledge of integrity, valor, and goodness—three things he thought the Midford family personified. He later felt some guilt in having roped his sister’s only daughter into a life of crime and immorality but in Francis’s words: “If you think a Midford would ever succumb to such transgressions then you, Vincent Phantomhive, are still as dense as ever.”

- His favorite scent is lavender and moonflower essence. He gifted the perfume to Rachel when the two began courting and since then, it’s been her signature fragrance.

- Ciel inherited Vincent’s cunning and ambition but also his mother’s compassion and fierce loyalty. Vincent hoped Ciel would be spared from the Phantomhive “evil” that is inherent in each descendent but the cult saw otherwise. Thus, he never really wanted Ciel to become the watchdog but accepted it as a real possibility.

- Vincent prefers French cuisine (particularly the recipes of Antoine Carême), baroque architecture, and only drinks wine imported from the vineyards of Aquitaine.

- In spite of his good looks and well practiced charm, Vincent thought marriage a secondary task in comparison to Funtom and his duties to the queen. He met Mr. Dalles esq. by accident and became intrigued by the description of his two daughters. During that time, Vincent was actually more interested in Angelina. He was impressed by her strong will, fierce intellect, and medical ability but her shyness, insecurity, and hesitation made him choose Rachel instead. He kept in touch with Angelina and she eventually joined the Evil Noblemen as their professional medical advisor and physician. 

- If he had a daughter he would have named her Cordelia Claudia Phantomhive, after the compassionate daughter of King Lear.

- Vincent has bank accounts all over the world—from Switzerland to Munich to New York to Luxembourg. (‘I’d like to think myself a humble man but, as Diedrich so often points out, my sense of humility is often blinded by my one of a kind diamond collection.”) 

- Vincent has a bachelor’s degree in moral philosophy from the University of Cambridge. (He inherited his rather curious sense of humor from his father…nudge, nudge, wink, wink.)

- He can speak nine different languages: English, French, German, Spanish, Latin, Greek, Russian, Polish, and Chinese. (Hi Lau.)

- Vincent respected and admired his mother but found it difficult to openly express affection towards her.

- It’s actually Francis who has the sweet tooth in the Phantomhive family. Vincent dislikes pastries and candy in general, preferring fine brandies, Beluga Sturgeon caviar, and rare lamb.

- The Phantomhives have a gorgeous seaside villa in Martinique that Vincent built for Rachel as an early wedding present. (They, er, spent a lot of time there.) 

- Undertaker was one of the few people Vincent genuinely trusted outside his family.

- It was Rachel who came up with Ciel’s name. Vincent had wanted to name his son Joachim, after the great French military general Joachim-Napoleon Murat. (But Rachel’s response was more or less, “Why on earth would I ever saddle my son with a name that conjures up the image of a 50 year old vagabond with no teeth and a head full of lice?”) She was even less pleased when Vincent suggested the name Hannibal:

“Are you out of your mind?”

“What’s so preposterous about this one? He’s considered one of the finest military generals in history.”

“And what does his name rhyme with?”

“Oh love, you don’t believe anyone would ever be so childish as to insinuate that our son is a cannib—“

“Tell me you wouldn’t be tempted to call our child the Watchdog’s cannibal.”



5| Pas De Deux

Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Ballet au, Romance, Angst
Warnings: None
Wordcount: 2839

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Through the whole night you were plagued with yesterday’s events in sharp, dream-like detail. Again and again, you felt his hands on you, lifting you, letting you fly…and again and again you saw his expression turn to disgust as he snatched those hands back and left you. But this time being in a dream, made you cry out desperate. “Jimin! What did I do? Jimin!”

“(Name)?” A hand shook you awake. You moaned, eyes fluttering open. You were back in the dorm room. It was dimly lit with a few bedside lamps. Coming out of your dream, you suddenly realised that you were being stared at by five girls.

“Huh?” You mumbled, sitting up. Jiwoo’s face hovered in front of you.

“Uh…” She hesitated. “You were kind of yelling in your sleep.”

“Oh God!” You groaned, blood rising to your cheeks. However you shouldn’t have been surprised. Your Mom always used to tease you about your dramatic mutterings when you slept. Ugh! How embarrassing, you wanted to disappear and never be seen again.

“What did I say?” You asked Jiwoo nervously.

She didn’t have time to answer before a mockingly high voice interrupted. “Oh, Jimin, please don’t go! Oh Jimin!” You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Minjee

You cringed. “How many times?”

Jiwoo looked away. “Just a few…”

“We’ve been trying to wake you up for at least ten minutes.” Said Yuna from across the room. “Oh yeah, by the way can I have my pillow back? I have bad aim.”

You did so, picking up the pink satin pillow from beside your bed and chucking it to her.

“I’m really sorry.” You said to everyone. This was beyond embarrassing. Most of them were sniggering, finding the situation rather funny. Yeah, it’s totally normal to have over-emotional dreams about some God of a guy who you’ve only know for what? Two days? And had spoken to, well… never. Totally normal.

The door opened, stifling everyone’s giggles as a crumple haired Madam Hyejin stood glaring at all of you. “Why are we up at this time?” She asked wearing a red satin dressing gown and slippers. It was sort of comical…

“(Name)’s having erotic dreams and she wanted to share.” Minjee answered sniggering.

“Oh shut the hell up!” Snapped Hyeun, then slammed a hand to her mouth as she swung back to meet Madam Hyejin’s sharp gaze.

She just looked at her in distaste before turning to the rest of you. “Go back to sleep. If there are any more disturbances you can give the cooking staff a break and wash up tomorrow’s dinner.”

“Yes Madam Hyejin.” You all chorused.

She gave everyone one last doleful glance and left, shutting the door behind her.

Apparently Hyejin’s threats were true, because no one made a sound as they slid back under their duvets and switched off their lights.

You stayed sitting in your bed, scared that if you went to sleep you would do it all over again. You cringed mentally, thinking of tomorrow. Everyone would know that you had dreamt of Park Jimin…Everyone.

However it didn’t take long before you drifted into a mercifully dreamless sleep when Madame Hyejin was at the door yet again, signalling the beginning of another day. Judging by her cross face and blood red pencil skirt and blouse, she wasn’t in a good mood.

“Up and ready in ten minutes.” She snapped, spinning on her stiletto as she walked out of the room.

“Had anymore dreams about Jiminnie?” Minjee mocked, once again, everyone’s eyes were on you.

You rolled your eyes and swung your legs out of the duvets, but suddenly a hideous pain shot through your stomach.

“Ah!” You gasped, your hand flying to the bedpost to stop you from toppling over.

“(Name)?” Jiwoo was at your side, worried. You just shook your head, telling her it was nothing. “What?”

“Nothing.” You told her, and stood up very carefully to get a towel. Jiwoo raised her eyebrows in confusion but went back to her trunk. You took a deep breath through your nose. Sweet God that was painful. Trying to keep your midriff frozen, you hurried to the bathrooms.

Once in the shower, you nervously looked down. You swallowed. You shouldn’t have been surprised, the way you had let Kihyun hold you yesterday. Overnight, the red marks had darkened into dark mottled blue and grey bruises, covering your stomach and hips. You tentatively bent your back forward, then stifled a groan. Damn it was painful.

You hurried through the shower, remembering Madam Hyejin’s wrath. No one could know about your bruises. It would mean a day off for sure, and you couldn’t afford that. When you got back you chose a plain black leotard from your trunk. It had short sleeves and its back didn’t plunge too low, so it wouldn’t show the bruises round the other side. You hated the sleeves, but all your other leos just had straps at the back.

Slowly you pulled your tights and leo on, but the elastic around the tights hurt as you gently slid them up your hips. Your leo wasn’t as bad, but by the time you were finished, Hyejin was at the door, smartly looking around for any fault. She strode up one side of the room and back down the other. This morning she flipped if a single hair was out of place. You stood tall as she finally reached you. She looked at you up and down and then stepped closer.

“Will you be able to attend classes today, Miss (Name)?” She asked you quietly, so that the others couldn’t hear. A little bit of last night’s motherly warmth returned to her.

You nodded quickly, but then hesitated. “…Just not Pas de Deux, Madame.”

She nodded. “Master Jinho is making arrangements for a new partner for you.” With one last, rather suspicious look at you, she left, this time with no joyous comment of ‘have a good day girls’

“Hey, what’s with you earlier?” Hyeun asked curiously, trotting up behind you and Jiwoo as you headed for the stairs.

“Uh, had a creepy dream?” You answered.

“No.” She said. “I meant the whole gasping thing ten minutes ago.”

“Oh, right…” You tried for a smile. “Cramps, you know?”

“Right.” She said sympathetically. Really? You were a terrible liar.

“Anyway, what were you actually dreaming about, (Name)?” Hyeun asked.

“Just about the academy and stuff…” You trailed off.

She giggled and raised a dark brown eyebrow. “He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?”

“I guess…” He was more than just 'gorgeous’…He had the perfect dancers body. His face was so beautiful and focussed and full of strong emotion…he was strikingly handsome and also in a way that you’d never seen before.

“It’s kinda sad he’s stuck with Taeyeon.” Muttered Hyeun. Your head snapped around.

“What?” You demanded, almost tripping on the stairs. “I thought they were just partners.”

“That’s because they are just partners.” Said Jiwoo. “People just assume that they’re going out because they’re partners.”

“Oh come on Jiwoo.” Hyeun groaned. “They are so cute together. Even if she can be a bitch sometimes. The Ballerina and Ballerino of the school, together.”

“Head Cheerleader and Quarterback.” You muttered. “Perfect match.”

Jiwoo glanced at you. “Hardly. All he cares about is his dancing. If Taeyeon wasn’t up to his standards. Then this so called 'relationship’ would be over in five seconds flat.”

“Mmmmm.” Drawled Hyeun dreamily. “But I love the way he’s so serious like that. And that vein that always pops out when he’s thinking is so sexy.”

Jiwoo just shook her head. “Honestly, Hyeun.”

You reached the dining hall and got in line for breakfast. “I wonder if he’ll be in class today.” Hyeun muttered, taking a bowl of muesli.

“He has to be.” Said Jiwoo. “It’s a part of his education, remember?”

“Yeah, but the way he left yesterday…” She replied. You cringed mentally. You still didn’t know what you exactly had done wrong. However you guessed that it probably had something to do with not doing anything right. Like Jiwoo had just said. Jimin had high standards. How could you, a first year who’d started ballet way too late, be able to fulfill those standards.

“Oh God.” Hyeun grumbled. “(Name), I think you’d better brace yourself.” You glanced up from pouring your apple juice. Lee Kihyun was coming towards you, his face looking more child-like and innocent than ever.

“Hey (Name)” He said.

“Can I take something for you?” He asked, gesturing to your glass and bowl.

“It’s okay.” You said, trying to give him a reassuring smile, but he wasn’t having it.

“Right.” He said. You turned to go to the table. Jiwoo and Hyeun trailing behind. “(Name), I’m so sorry.” He choked out.

“Oh, don’t worry.” You said. However the bruises on your stomach disagreed very much. “We all make mistakes.”

“I’m so sorry.” He repeated weakly, not seeming to have heard your words. “I really didn’t mean to, and I can’t believe I did it, but I’m so sorry and I never wanted to hurt you and I just can’t believe – ”

“Kihyun.” You said, trying to stop his guilt trip, but he went on.

“-And I did it in front of everyone and I must have hurt you so bad and oh God!” He glanced up at you.

“How bad is it?” He asked you. “How badly are you hurt?”

You hesitated…somehow you didn’t think telling him your stomach was black and blue would solve many problems. But he took your silence badly. “Oh God, will you ever be able to dance again? Oh God, what have I done?”


“I swear I didn’t know I was doing it and God I didn’t think and now you’re hurt and you won’t be able to dance and oh God I – ”

“Kihyun!” You said loudly, making a few heads turn. His startled expression made him thankfully shut his mouth and you lowered your voice.

“Kihyun, it’s okay, you just made a mistake, that’s all.” He opened his mouth to say something, but you continued.

“And I most certainly still can dance, in fact I need to finish my breakfast so that I can get to tech, so don’t worry about it, okay?” Seeing his utterly downtrodden face, you put a hand on his shoulder. It was then that you noticed a pair of sharp brown eyes on you.

Park Jimin. He was sitting at the table with Jung Dawon and their other friends. His eyes was focused strongly on the polished wood of the table, his jaw muscle twitching. Oh God… Kim Namjoon made a joke and the boys excluding Dawon roared with laughter. Jimin, gave a half hearted smile and began picking at his food.

“I guess, I guess…” You frowned, realising Kihyun was still talking to you. His baby-brown eyes looked into yours. They weren’t outstanding compared to the vibrant ones you’d just been staring into. “Did I really not hurt you?”

“It was just a mistake, Kihyun.” You told him for the fifth time, trying to get it into his mind.

“Oh God, I did, didn’t I?” You sighed, but surrendered and gave a quick nod.

“Only a little, Kihyun. Just promise me that you have learnt your lesson?” This approach seemed to be working a little better.

He nodded weakly. “Good, now move on. I’m sure Madam Zhang can help you out with you technique.”

“Master Jinho has taken me out of Pas de Deux classes.” He mumbled, staring down miserably at his plate. “He says I’m not ready for them yet.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be put back in soon, Kihyun.” You assured him, though you ashamedly thought that Master Jinho was making a good call. Kihyun wasn’t ready. You gently patted his back as he glumly picked up his spoon.

“Um…(Name)?” Hyeun’s voice warned you once again. “Might want to turn around.”

You spun in your chair, and found yourself staring up at none other than Shinn Taeyeon. She was dressed in a shimmering black and gold camisole leo, her white tights mostly concealed by thigh high black legwarmers. Her dyed strawberry blonde hair was done up in an intricately plaited bun, her pencilled eyebrows raised above two cold hazel eyes. “I take it you’re (Surname) (Name)?”

“Yes.” You said, frowning. Sitting down was making you feel somewhat vulnerable, so you slipped out of your chair and stood. Your belly screamed at the movement, but you forced your face to stay blank.

You realized that every table within the canteen had turned quiet.

Taeyeon looked you up and down. “Hmm, so not only do you have erotic dreams about my partner and dance with him, but you’re also the one I caught spying on him the other day.”

Unwillingly, you blushed, two angry splotches on both cheeks. She’d said it loud enough for the whole hall to hear.

“I wasn’t spying. I was observing.”

“Jimin doesn’t like people watching him.” She snapped.

“Then why doesn’t he say it for himself?” You asked, trying to inconspicuously glance at him. He, unlike everyone else, was looking away, his gaze frozen at a spot on his table.

“Tsk.” Taeyeon’s wild hiss brought you back to her. She’d seen where you had been looking. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For Jimin to talk to you?”

You rolled your eyes. Good god this girl was immature. “May I ask why you’re being so obnoxious to me? Or do you welcome all new people to the school by public interrogation?”

She glared at you. “Jimin is my partner, and he doesn’t dance with anyone other than me. Particularly not a first year.”

“So you think I forced him to?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows. “That’s a little farfetched. He’s his own person.”

She put a hand on her hip. “You don’t know anything about Jimin.” She took a step forward, coming way too close for comfort. “Jimin’s not even – ”

“Taeyeon.” His strong voice rung out through the hall. He was standing by his table, his eyes fixed on Taeyeon, not once wavering to you.

“Stop this.” Taeyeon frowned, looking at him. He walked towards the two of you. “Miss (Surname) is one of my students and I was demonstrating with her. Nothing more.” He didn’t even acknowledge your existence. He lowered his voice so that only she could hear, but you heard anyway. “Taeyeon, what the hell are you doing?”

“Jimin, she – ”

His face darkened. “This is between you and me and nobody else. Particularly not the entire school.” He put a hand on the small of her back, straightening up. “Now let’s go.”

She send you a last angry glance before strutting out of the hall, gripping Jimin’s hand. The hall was filled with an eerie silence. Even the teachers were quiet. Only Master Jinho sat demurely, sipping his tea and reading his newspaper as if nothing had happened. Madame Hyejin sat with her hands folded in her lap, quietly watching the doorway where quick footsteps were slowly fading.

“Dear God! Little Chimmie’s got himself a conflict!” Min Yoongi roared, slapping his hand on the table. This seemed to release everyone from their hypnotised stares and they all began whispering excitedly amongst one another.

“Jeez.” Yuna whistled, blowing a lock of silver hair off her face. “That was weird.” You sunk back down into your chair. God, what had just happened?

“(Name’s) in dangerous waters now."Jongsoo said with a grin.

You shook your head. "I think I’ve already drowned in them. She’s going to kill me.”

“But you only danced with him.” Jiwoo exclaimed.

“That’s like saying, 'You only spent the day with Dylan O'Brien.’” Hyeun said. She looked at you with a new respect in her eyes.

“You’re freaking amazing!” She erupted. “It’s taken me a whole month plus the summer course to just get a few of the crappy second year guys to even know my name. Now the whole school knows who you are! You’re famous, (Name)! And this is like what, only your third day here?” She sighed. “You’re a legend.”

“Oh please.” Muttered Minjee, who you hadn’t even realized was at the table. “Who wants to be known for erotic dreams and getting into pre-lost arguments with Shinn Taeyeon? She killed (Name) up there.” She smirked at you. “You just stood there like an idiot.”

“Thanks, Minjee.” You sighed. “Your voice at these times is so reassuring to me.”

“Anytime.” She muttered, standing up with her plate and leaving.

You put your elbows on the table, holding head in your hands. You felt the same pain as yesterday. Seeing that total distaste in Jimin’s eyes. What was wrong with you? What had you done so wrong yesterday to offend him? Why was he completely ignoring you?

“(Name).” Jiwoo put a friendly hand on your wrist. “I know she can be kind of intimidating, but…”

“No, that’s not it.” You said, raising your head. You pushed your chair back and picked up your plate. The day had just begun but you were already worn out and confused. You dumped your dish at the counter and left the hall, feeling many pairs of eyes as you left. Great. Like Hyeun had said. 'You were famous now’

wedding night // a matty healy smut

word count: 3,280 (oops)

read part one here

 a/n this is quite long and there’s a lot of description toward the beginning because i really wanted you to get the vibe and atmosphere, sorry if it’s too much! 

 you drove through the beautiful clear night, moonlight cascading through the sun roof above you and matty’s heads. matty sat beside you driving, his hand lightly resting on your leg. you glanced at the car clock - 11:32. your head was still in the clouds from the night’s events. you’d just departed from your wedding venue, leaving the excited guests through a path of sparklers and laughter, and now was the first time all day that you’d get to spend more than a moment alone with matty. you looked over to your new husband and smiled to yourself as he focused on the road, navigating through traffic to get to the hotel you’d be staying at overnight before leaving for your romantic getaway the next morning. his face was stern yet beautiful, and you placed your hand on his neck, running your fingers lightly through the hair there before moving your hand down to his shoulder, where you rested it. this was your favorite kind of time with him - quiet, comfortable, peaceful. your eyes shifted down to his left hand, which now wore a thin band on the ring finger, and your breath hitched in your throat. he belongs to me, forever, you thought, and he would wear that ring as a public sign of devotion to me and me only. 

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anonymous asked:

HELLLOOO MY FAVORITE WRITERRRR ''Tis my bday and honestly would love nothing more than a Drabble from one of your fics but I can't even pick one of them because they're all so gooooood. Maybe TWG or TOW or 210 days or never be or perfect storm omg so many good ones I can't choose but would appreciate anything you'd share!!! 💕💕💕

Hi babe! Happy birthday! I wrote this as quickly as I could so I hope it’s still your birthday where you are! I decided to add to Tug-of-War; is that okay?! xxxx

Harry takes the long way home back from Louis’, the Jeep windows down, muggy air doing nothing to help his already frizzy curls. Every time he thinks about the way Louis leaned into his grip at the concert, his body warm and hands trembling when their fingers linked together, he feels short of breath, has to take another left turn when he should be taking a right. He’s spent ages thinking about what what it would be like to have Louis in his arms, often times tossing and turning in his bed, unable to sleep with how badly he wanted it, just a taste, just to have a little more than he was allowed. But thinking about it and wishing for it didn’t come anywhere close to the real thing, Louis sweaty and swaying to the music, his lips wet, eyes focused whenever he twisted up to look at Harry. And then, with his back pressed up against his front door, Louis stared at him like he wanted to be kissed, kissed by Harry, looking so Goddamn beautiful, and Jesus fucking Christ, Harry deserves a medal for being able to pull himself away from that, for not rushing the thing that occupies his mind more often than he’d ever care to admit. The idea of going home to an empty house when he feels this on edge is laughable, and he doesn’t end up pulling into his driveway until it’s well past three in the morning, nearly two hours after he dropped Louis off.

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Richonne One Shots Chapter 36: Election Night 2, a Walking Dead FanFiction
Part Two of Election Night is a prequel. Rick and Michonne meet from opposite sides...

Originally posted by erinjustyceforall

“Look alive, Grimes. I’m not paying you to stand around looking pretty.” The sardonic southern accent bit at Rick’s ears, immediately rubbing him the wrong way. The man from whom the voice emitted completed the image. Over six feet tall with unnaturally perfect hair, Philip Blake was the picture of conservative family values to his potential constituents. Those who worked with him knew better.

Phillip Blake was an asshole.

Rick swallowed thickly, biting his tongue for presumably the hundredth time this morning. His boss took his silence as compliance, already moving along on his list of people to verbally abuse.

“This Michonne, she’s gaining in the polls,” Philip’s southern accent was far less polished behind the scenes.

“She’s a novelty, sir,” Blake’s assistant, Milton, a mousy man with rectangular glasses, piped up on queue. “They’ll grow tired of her. My numbers—”

“Are bullshit,” Blake finished. “I’m not taking any risks. Find me something I can use against her.”

It took every ounce of self-control for Rick not to roll his eyes. Philip Blake would have made an excellent dictator in another life. His hatred for his opponent burned bright. Rick suspected that the fact that a Black woman had the gall to run against him burned the hell out of Blake’s chaps.

“She’s a problem,” he clipped out, pausing to adjust his hair and tie in the mirror backstage. “She needs to be dealt with.”

Rick’s eye twitched again.

“She’s young. Unseasoned. You have the support of the party—” Milton tried again.

“Find something I can use,” Blake interjected, acting as though his assistant hadn’t spoken at all.

“I will,” Milton was doing the stuttering thing again. Rick almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“Where the hell is my wife?” Blake turned his attention elsewhere, eyes sweeping for the platinum blonde. Rick hadn’t exchanged a word with her in the month since he took this gig, and he didn’t care to change that. Mrs. Blake was just as unpleasant as her husband.

“I’m here,” she appeared in a click of heels and a cloud of perfume and bad attitude, her waves of hair seemingly glued around her head. She took her husband’s arm. At once, their scowls melted into smiles that could have graced a Colgate ad. Rick watched them sweep onto the stage, happy to retreat to his place with the other bodyguards just behind the curtain.

He spotted Abe, an old colleague, standing up ramrod straight. The redhead caught his eye, grinning.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Abe started in immediately. Rick felt his mood improve marginally.

“Abe,” he nodded.

“Shane hook you up?” he asked, shaking Rick’s hand.

“That obvious?” Rick took his place beside him, facing the pulpit. His clients had emerged to raucous applause. Rick’s stomach turned.

“Politics ain’t really your scene,” Abe snorted lowly.

“And they’re yours?” Rick scoffed. He couldn’t imagine a more politically incorrect person than the man beside him.

“I at least served old Uncle Sam,” Abe grinned. “You couldn’t cut basic training.”

“It’s good money,” Rick shrugged slightly. This was his daily mantra.

“Better you than me,” Abe’s eyes locked onto the Blakes. “Ain’t never seen a bigger pair of assholes.”

Rick held in his laugh and his agreement. “How’s your girl?” he asked.

Abe’s smile widened. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the arrival of the client in question.

“Excuse me,” a lilting voice drew Rick’s attention. His eyes flickered momentarily to the woman walking out on stage, head high and shoulders back.

Rick dropped his jaw. He’d seen pictures of her, clips on the evening news. None of them did her justice. He hadn’t seen a person look less like a politician. Her dark locs were fixed back from her forehead in a simple but striking updo. Her skin seemed to glow under the stage lights, dark like polished bronze. She swept past him in a swirl of vanilla and sandalwood, her heels clicking as she took her place on the podium. Rick stared in shock.

“Is that her?” Rick whispered under his breath. He wasn’t looking at the Blakes at all anymore.

“That’s her,” Abe smirked knowingly, his eyes never leaving his client. “Michonne Bechet. Atlanta Councilwoman. Might be an Obama in the making.”

“Holy shit,” Rick’s statement came out almost as a gasp. “I’m going to kill Shane.”

Abe chuckled, arms folded in front of him, the hint of amusement playing beneath his facial hair. “Walsh did you a favor.”

“How do you figure?” It damn sure didn’t feel like a favor from where Rick was standing. From where he was standing, it looked like Abe got to guard the gorgeous, progressive candidate while Rick got stuck with Philip Blake.

“He knows you, man. You couldn’t handle her,” Abe’s lips barely moved as they muttered quietly to one another.

Rick didn’t answer. There were plenty of ways he suddenly wanted to handle the woman in front of him, none of them professional. “You might have a point,” he admitted.

Abe grunted his agreement.

Rick wasn’t one for politics, but he paid close attention to the debate that night. He’d heard Blake’s stance a million and a half times, but Michonne’s words stuck with him. She had vision, she had panache, she had charisma, and she was a hell of a looker. Michonne faced the jeering crowd without so much as flinching. If Blake’s sardonic insults affected her, she didn’t show it. She answered the debate questions in a clear, high voice, outlining her point until even the crowd seemed to silence before her.

Blake hated her.

“Find me something on her,” he reiterated that night, taking a break from his hooting and hollering and cursing to address Milton. “Before this gets out of control.”

By debate number two, it was clear that the situation had long since gotten out of control. Michonne was gaining in the polls. Blake couldn’t maintain his polite façade. Their meeting at a charity ball quickly divested into petty remarks. Rick reddened behind his boss while Michonne took the insults on the chin.

“Asshole,” Abe was angrier even than Rick, his eyes burning holes into Blake as he sipped champagne and schmoozed with donors.

“Dick,” Rick agreed, fighting the urge to knock his employer in the back of his head with the butt of his gun.

“Abe,” they were interrupted once more by the dark horse candidate. She looked stunning in her little black dress, her hair pulled up in a bun.

“What do you need, darling?” Abe came to attention at once. Rick resisted the urge to step forwards towards her.

“I’m tired,” she announced this with the air of one discussing the weather. Only the weariness in her eyes betrayed her actual feelings.

“All right,” Abe nodded, mobilizing her people at once. Rick was left standing there, staring at her, anger burning in the pit of his stomach at the way this woman was treated. She glanced back, her expression mildly curious.

“Don’t let him bother you,” Rick’s mouth was moving before he even realized it. “He’s scared of you.”

She looked surprised for a fraction of a second, then her expression changed. Her laugh, clear and melodious, got him through the rest of the night, even as Blake snarked at everyone around him.

“Thank you,” she told him as Abe swept her off, throwing Rick a knowing look from beneath his bushy brow.

Rick and Michonne met again at a community center groundbreaking. She was just as stunning in jeans and a blouse as an evening gown. She smiled at him this time, greeting him kindly as she passed. Rick ignored Blake’s burning glare to smile back.

“Maybe you’re not useless after all,” Blake mused later, unaware of how close he was to getting punched squarely in his face. “She’s likes the working class type. Talk to her next time. See what you can find out.”

Rick seized the opportunity. He found her a week later, sitting at the bar, her ankles crossed, her hair hanging freely down her back. He beelined for her.

“Rick,” his name sounded regal coming from her lips. “Should you be talking to me?” she seemed amused. Her hand cupped her chin as she stared up at him, her confidence burning bright.

“It’s my day off,” he told her. This was true. Both candidates were stationed in the same hotel. He bumped into her at the bar downstairs. He’d come down to meet Abe for a drink, but changed course the moment he spotted her.

“Blake gives you those?” she quipped, sipping prettily from her beer.

Rick laughed. Behind them, Abe watched, amused. Rick caught his eye, silently begging his friend to leave them alone.

“You owe me,” Rick read Abe’s lips from across the bar. Rick happily sent over a drink to keep him occupied.

“How do I know you’re not a spy?” Michonne questioned lightly a few moments later. There was something underlying in her tone that let Rick know she was not joking.

“You can ask Abe what I think of my employer,” Rick didn’t miss a beat. Truth was, he hated Philip Blake. Work had become the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

“What do you think of me?” she asked, taking another draw. Rick’s eyes flicked to her lips. He swallowed thickly.

“I might vote for you,” he told her, taking a gulp to steady himself.

“Just might?” she sounded so incredulous that for a moment Rick feared she was serious. Then she smiled around the mouth of her bottle. Rick grinned back.

“Learn anything interesting?” Blake asked the next morning.

Rick had learned her favorite drink, her cat’s name, that she loved action movies, and got into politics to fight for the voiceless.

“Nope,” Rick answered. Blake glared. Rick did not flinch. Blake eventually moved off.

“Are you making a move on my client?” Abe asked later, when both of them were stationed behind the scenes of debate number 3.

“I’m thinking about it,” Rick did not hesitate to answer. It was all he seemed to think about.

“You’re going to get fired,” Abe rolled his eyes.

“Might be worth it.” There was no might about it. If Rick had half a chance, he’d take it.

“I’m going to regret this,” Abe sighed, then pulled out his phone. “She asked me for your number.”

Rick punched it into Abe’s phone at lightning speed.

Her first text came the following Saturday afternoon. Phillip and his wife were drunk at the pool and Rick was bored to tears.

“What’s it going to take to get your vote?” the question blinked up at him under the bright light of the afternoon sun.

“Want to talk about it over dinner?” he text back, waiting with baited breath while the three dots flashed at him.

“It can’t be public.”

Rick’s heart jumped. Trying to contain his excitement, he text back. “I know a place. No one will bother us.”

Her response took a full five minutes, but eventually it pinged in.

“Sounds great.”

Rick read her message, sitting contently and grinning while Blake yelled at Milton from across the pool.

Acquainted with the Night (3/16)

Summary: In a bid for the power born of true love, King Arthur binds Emma to the broken blade Excalibur.  Unbeknownst to him, Killian Jones is bound to the other half, having given himself over to the darkness in order to exact his revenge on Rumpelstiltskin.  He frees Emma from King Arthur’s control, sparking the beginnings of war between Camelot and Misthaven, and a quest to rid her of the darkness.  (No Curse AU)

Rated: M

Warnings: Violence, minor character death

Words: ~6200

Chapter: Prologue, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Epilogue

Notes: Love and gratitude to @ripplestitchskein and @unfolded73 for their help with this story.  Credit to @seethelovelyintheworld for the gorgeous banner.  

Tagging by request: @natascha-remi-ronin, @the-captains-ayebrows, @maryvmassakre, @katealexandra26, @superchocovian, @vanyali07, @imhookedonaswan, @captain–kitten, @dreadpirateemma, @like-waves-on-the-beach

Also on ff and ao3

Chapter Two


Killian Jones’s voice echoed as she disappeared, reappearing moments later before Arthur, where he waited, sitting patiently in a dark room, at a grand table set among pillars of stone.  He wore the same vapidly pleasant expression on his face, sparing her only a glance before he rose to his feet.  Excalibur was sheathed at his side, the hilt swinging gently as he walked, his hand pressed to the walls of his castle.  Emma could hear the grit of the stone dragging beneath his fingertips.  Where Killian had instilled calm, a pervasive sort of silence that eased like water between her ears, everything about Arthur grated.

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To Have And To Hold // James Potter

A/N: just a short little thing i’m not really sure how to explain lol. sorry for the inactivity, been busy! 

Originally posted by chasingxprongs

“She’s insufferable, James!” you yelled, slinging your bag onto the table as you stomped into the house. James filed in behind you, stripping out of his coat and laying it across a chair. You slipped out of your shoes, “I mean bloody hell, I don’t want a three story goblin made head-dress that looks like some kind of…of…dental piece wobbling around while I try to walk down the aisle. For Godric’s sake, what’s my poor dad supposed to do? Duck?! I think not! Plus, I already promised your dear, lovely mum that I’d wear her grandmother’s tiara! Who’s wedding is this? Mine or hers?” 

“I was under the impression it was ours,” James laughed, hanging the car keys up and shuffling around you to the refrigerator. 

You huffed, “Ours, of course, love. I just - this isn’t supposed to be so frustrating! I’m supposed to cry when I try on my dress for the first time, not spend the whole time yelling at my inconsiderate, stubborn mother!” 

Your fiance sat his drink on the counter, and crossed his arms across his chest, leaning onto the counter. He licked his lips, turning his head to the side and smiling at you, amused with your frustration. This only fired you up farther, and you slung your hands into the air, “This is supposed to be this perfect experience that leads up to the best day of your life, and nothing is going right! I’m mad as hell, and you’re just standing over there with that stupid bloody grin on your face just to spite me! Mum’s trying to make me tote an ugly crown with twigs sticking out in every direction down the aisle! Lily’s fitting didn’t go well, and Sirius won’t even make an effort to try a tux! I mean what does he think, James, honestly? Everyone knows Sirius is a little thick, but no one expected this! A tux isn’t going to just pop out of-” 

“Merlin, I can’t wait to marry you,” he interrupted with a little laugh. His face scrunched up, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. It was something he always did after he laughed, and it was one of your favorite things about him. 

You paused as a lopsided grin grew on you face. You smiled and took a deep breath, letting all your tension and vexation fade away. James took a sip of his drink and peered at you over the rim of the glass. He swallowed, setting his drink back onto the counter, “So, I guess this Bridezilla showing is over? Man, I’m excited for next week’s episode. There’s rumors we’re getting a sneak peak this Saturday - cake tasting day.” 

“I’m not Bridezilla, Potter,” you shot back, moving towards the fridge with an eye roll. You pulled out a soda, popping the tab. You sighed, settling across from James. “I just want our wedding to be perfect.” 

He nodded, and tugged on your free hand, pulling you into a much needed hug. He kissed the top of you head before resting his chin there. You sighed contently, inhaling that intoxicating scent of Sleekeazys hair gel and pine that seemed to stick to James. His hand rubbed circles on your back, “It’s going to be perfect. I could marry you on a quidditch pitch, and it would be perfect. All our perfect wedding needs is you.” 

“You wish you could marry me on a quidditch pitch, don’t you?” you laughed, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. 

“We could even put flowers in the goals if you’d like,” James joked. “Yellow and red darling, for Gryffindor.” 

“Yeah, right! Oh, and Minnie McGonagall can be our officiant. Bloody hell, Potter! The reception can be in the common room, and Filch can drag Sirius to Dumbledore’s office after keels over and pukes firewhisky into the fireplace, just like old times!” you snipped back, as James lifted you onto the counter. He laughed, and ran nimble hands up your thighs to eventually sit on you hips. 

“Godric that would be dreadful,” James squawked. “Remus would hate it - he may not even show for a shitshow like that!”

“It may be dreadful as is,” you huffed, slumping down. 

Your fiance just grinned, and moved to squeeze your shoulders. “C’mon, love. Everything will be fine, just wait. The day will come, and you’ll cry with Evans and McKinnon as they lace up your gorgeous dress that fits you in all the right places. You’ll have to replace your mascara afterwards, and then your old dad will knock on the door. And he’ll try to give you away to me, you know love, to have and to hold, but you won’t be able to move. No, not in the presence of your glowing fiance. The wind will be in my perfect hair, long, just like you like it. And I’ll look so intellgent in my glasses, tux, and all. And, as you’ve said before dear, intelligence is sexy. My shoes will be polished and sparkling, complimenting my glittering chestnut eyes. And you’ll be in awe in your little frumpy dress, and frizzly curls. And I’ll just be there, clear skin glowing, outshining all you see-” 

“Oh, shove it, Potter!” you shrieked, hitting him in the chest with a chuckle. 

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Everything will be perfect, I promise. Alright? Think of the good; think of our future. We’re getting married, we’re going to be together forever after we get on with all of this. And those are the days I can’t stop dreaming about.” 

“You always see the end way before the start,” you said, pulling your arms from his chest to rest on his shoulders. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t see it all the time,” he said smugly. “C’mon, Y/N. All those little moments that are going to make up our eternity.” 

“You are so much better at this than I am,” you sighed, smiling down at the floor. 

“What?” James asked. 

You laughed, “Being in love, well, expressing that. I’m so bad at emotions, and you’re so natural and poetic. I just - I don’t know.” 

“I do,” he said. “You’re perfect that way, you know, the ying to my yang. The balance of us. You’re stressing over this far too much. I picked you, and I was sure when I picked you. I was sure when I picked the ring. I was sure when I picked the movie to watch on our first date. I was sure when I picked our first flat. I was sure when I picked your breakfast order while you were showering this morning. I’ve always been sure I would pick you, Y/N, and you don’t have to worry me not picking you. I’m in love with you, and everything about you.” 

“There you go again,” you giggled, pressing your forehead against his. “I’m in love with you too, James. More than you’ll ever know actually, since I’m so bad at emotions, since I’m the ying.” 

James pressed his lips to yours, “See? Perfect.” 

You grinned, “I can’t wait to marry you either.”