Summary: You’re out with your boyfriend at a party, celebrating their latest win in an awards show. All the famous people are there and everyone’s drinking and having fun…Your abusive (Mentally and/or physically) ex turns up however - as they are part of a famous group also, but your boyfriend doesn’t like them due to how they treated you. Your ex tries hitting on you, but your boyfriend has other ideas.
Disclaimer: There are elements of abuse, mental and physical. There isn’t a lot, but they are still there. So just a warning.
Jin: You were stood by the drink stand whilst Jin had gone to talk to a bunch of people who had congratulated him on his win with the boys. As you stood there, you were suddenly tapped on the shoulder and you turned around “(Y/N), it’s been a while.” said the familiar face. You knew you’d see your ex today, but you didn’t think he’d speak to you
FBI physician Dr. Shane Madej is assigned the task of
keeping tabs on Agent Ryan Bergara, a talented detective whose obsession with
the paranormal is of grave concern to his superiors. Working out of BuzzFeed’s
basement, Ryan specializes in the Bureau’s “X-Files”: a collection of
cold cases deemed unsolvable due to macabre or taboo elements. While Ryan
attributes these elements to the supernatural and extraterrestrial, Shane is a
skeptic who attempts to debunk his theories through scientific reasoning.
Together they investigate all manner of strange and unusual cases, which over
time hint at a massive government conspiracy linked to a series of alien
abductions going as far back as the forties.
Make my partner work while contagiously sick? Enjoy having the health board checking up on you.
This was about 10 years ago. At the time I was with my ex partner, who worked at a petrol station chain in Australia. He came down sick with gastro which is a highly infectious illness resulting in vomiting, diarrhea, fatigue etc. My ex notified his manager on Tues night that he wouldn’t be able to make his shift the following morning, as he was vomiting copiously still and assumed he would still be by then. His manager replied that he had to contact other workers to get his shift covered- a dick move, but not illegal. My ex spends about an hour trying to get someone to cover for him, with no success. He lets his manager know, who responds with ‘you had better show up for your shift or you’re fired, doesn’t matter if you’re sick’. His manager had a habit of doing this- he recently had made someone work while they had conjunctivitis (extremely contagious) and someone come in for their shift after they had been in the hospital that day after having an asthma attack.
The following day, my ex went to work. Note that his job also involved food handling as they had a bread store in the petrol station. So people would come in to pay for their petrol, get a coffee and a donut/pie/cake. While handing a customer their cake, he pauses and vomits into a nearby hand washing sink. During his shift he continues to handle food and go to the toilet regularly because of the diarrhea.
When my ex gets home, I ask if he had been unwell and he confirmed he continued to be sick while at work. I am absolutely furious that he was threatened with job loss and most likely has spread his illness to a bunch of other people. So I can the health board of my state and report it. The board sends out someone on a surprise visit to the site, and turns out there are lots of bad food handling and hygiene practices going on, not just the workers illness issues. The company ends up being fined $150,000 and had to make significant changes to how some things were run. As for the manager, turns out the whole 'show up even if you’re sick or you’re fired’ policy wasn’t exactly the company line and he got his ass handed to him over it.
Imagine Drunk Crying Over Steve’s Hair at Tina’s Party
Harrington x Reader
Summary: You get
sheet faced at Tina’s Halloween party, where you end up crying about how
beautiful Steve’s hair is.
drinking. Drunken shenanigans.
You stood there, atop the coffee table in the middle of
Tina’s living room, spinning around with your trusty red solo cup in hand, only
pausing to stamp your feet against the table along to the tune of the drums.
You weren’t even sure what song was playing, but you liked it, and you liked
dancing atop the table, and you like the drink in your hand. You tipped the cup
up, downing two more gulps of the red liquid you had grabbed from the spiked
punch bowl. You let out a “Whoop!” which was met by a chorus of “Yeah!”’s,
courtesy of the high school boys watching you dance around in your skin tight
Daphne Blake costume. Your best friend, Nona, had come as Velma, but you had
since lost her the hands of Faye Collins and the promise of something good to
smoke in the back room. With Nona gone, you were left to your own devices, and
you were not a good decision maker. Nona was 95% of your impulse control, after
all. Which is how you found yourself
atop this table, spinning around once more, your red solo cup falling to the
floor, as it was now empty and severed you no purpose. That is also how you
found yourself tripping over your kitten heels, and promptly falling off of the
wooden coffee table.
A surprised “Oh!” had hardly left your lips before you felt
warm arms engulf you, and you found yourself looking up at your savior.
“Oh my god, Steveeee,” you drug out the boy’s name as you
looked up at his face. If you were sober, you may have noticed the melancholy
that had settled over his usual content facial features, you may have even
asked if he was alright. But you weren’t, and a dopy smile made its way onto
your face instead.
“Steve!” you said again, as if truly registering who he was
this time. You reached both of your hands up to Steve’s face and patted the poor
baby’s cheeks, a fit of giggles over taking you. Steve blinked down a few times
at you, drunkenly laying in his arms. His left arm was placed under your
thighs, his right arm on your upper back, fulling supporting your body weight
as your feet dangled a few inches above the floor. You head had lolled to the
sighed as you drunkenly laughed at something that was only amusing to you.
Steve would be lying to himself if he didn’t find a small
amount of pleasure in your sudden appearance, even if you were drunk. The way
you E/C eyes lit up when you had realized it was him, the large smile had had
over taken your features and caused your eyes to scrunch up to the point where
they were almost closed. Even the way you said his name, as if you were truly
happy to see him, and it lifted up the spirit that Nancy Wheeler had just
crushed with one single word.
“Y/N,” Steve said your name causing your neck to snap up quickly.
Again with those damn shining eyes, looking at him as if he was the world.
Steve’s heart beat quickened as he looked down at you.
“Yea, Stevie?” you asked, your voice excited. And you were,
you had a crush on Steve for months now. A crush that had never went anywhere,
seeing as how he was completely enamored with Nancy.
“Where’s Nona?” Steve asked, his gaze sweeping over the
living room crowed by the students of Hawking’s High. Nona had proved harder to
find that someone dressed in an florescent orange outfit should have.
“Dunno,” you said, your voice aloof. “I tired looking for
her, but…” your voice trailed off as you looked up at Steve. Why did Steve want
to find Nona? Nona didn’t even like
Steve. Nona liked Nancy. Nona thought Nance was pretty, very pretty.
“Pretty,” you mumbled. Your hands, which you had let fall
around Steve’s neck during your giggle fit, moved up again and you ran them up
and down his face quickly. Steve blinked a few times and jerked his head back,
trying to get anyway from your flailing hands, amused laugher left his lips and
it was like music to your ears. You beamed up at Steve again, letting your
hands rest on his face. “Real pretty.”
Steve’s heart jumped in his chest as you stared up at him
with that intense gaze, a stare Nancy had never looked up at him with, he
wasn’t sure about what it meant. But he did know that he liked it. He liked it
very much. But you were drunk, and drunk people did stupid things.
“Come on Y/N, let’s go find Nona so she can take you home,”
Steve said as he tried to put you back on your feet. Steve began to dip you
down and your head started to swim.
“No!” you cried shrilly, jumping up and wrapping your arms
back around his neck tightly and curling your body up against his. You were
fully on his chest now, his hand under your knees instead of your thighs and
you were looking up at him with big, bambi eyes. “No, I’m having fun, I don’t
want to go home!” You whined, “Why are you trying to get rid of me Steve?”
Steve shook his head as he looked down at you, helplessly
drunk in his arms. “I’m not trying to get rid of you Y/N, I’m trying to make
sure you get home safe.” Steve attempted to explain, slightly amused.
“Y-Yes you are!” you accused, a pout forming on your face,
“That’s mean!” Steve’s smile faltered.
Your eyes traveled back you to Steve’s face, memorizing
every detail. You loved his warm brown eyes, the few beauty marks that adorned
his face and… Your E/C had started to water as you looked up at him, and Steve
began to panic.
“Oh shit, don’t cry, I’m sorry,” the words flew out of
Steve’s mouth at a rapid pace. By this time tears were rolling down your face
and Steve felt like complete and utter crap. A few minutes ago the girl he
loved just told him she had never felt anything for him, now you were crying in
his arms because he was a giant asshole. No wonder Nancy didn’t love him.
“You,” you hiccupped, “Your,” your voice was interrupted by
the sobs leaving your body.
“I know, I’m an asshole, I’m so sorry Y/N I didn’t mean-”
Steve was completely crushed by how upset he had made you.
“Your hair is so beautiful,” you wailed, shocking the hell
out of the Steve.
Steve had to pick his jaw up off the floor before he turned
his confused gaze to you. All at once, every bad emotion he had been feeling
before was replaced with confusion and curiosity. “What?”
“It soooo fabulous,” you cried as your hands made their way
to his hair, where you ran your fingers through it, sending a pleasant shutter
down Steve’s spine. “Steve why is it so pretty?”
“So pretty?” Steve was so confused as he looked down into
you beautiful, teary, E/C eyes, gazing at him.
“Magnificent!” you said, eyes full of wonder as you
continued to play with his brown locks. They were soft between your finger tips
and you let out a content sigh as your head fell against Steve’s chest, your
eyes fluttering shut as you continued to play with the boy’s hair.
A hearty laugh left Steve’s chest, shaking the both of you,
causing you to blink your heavy lids up at Steve.
“Was’ so funny?” you asked, sleepily. All of a sudden the night’s
events had caught up with you, and Steve’s arms were the most comfortable place
you had ever been, and you found yourself sinking into them.
“Nothing,” Steve muttered, still chuckling, “You’re just adorable,”
Steve said as he shifted you in his arms.
“Adorable?” you mumbled.
Steve hummed as an answered, and you looked up at him with
bleary eyes, “So are you, Nancy is so lucky,” you yawned out. “I wish I was
Nancy so you would love me too.”
Steve’s heart stopped in his chest.
“You love me?”
You offered no answer to his question, as you were already
sleeping in his arms, a goofy smile still lingering of your lips, one of your
hands tangled in his hair, the other limply laying over his shoulder. Steve shook
his head and smiled softly, holding you a bit tighter.
“Come on Y/N, let’s get you home,” Steve whispered and began
making his way through the crowd with you securely in his arms.
Summary: Steve is awfully distracted by your getup for helping out at the Snow Ball
Warning(s): Smut (duh), Swearing (have you met me), arguing (Nancy and the reader), Jonathan being the coolest, Dustin being a little shit, this is really basic honestly it’s pretty bad
Author’s Note: IT’S HERE! FUCKING FINALLY! THIS HAS BEEN DONE FOR LIKE A WEEK I JUST HAVEN’T GOTTEN AROUND TO POSTING! I’M SO SORRY! Anyway, this probably isn’t that amazing but it could be worse i’m somewhat okay with how it turned out
Despite spending the last four years of his life studying Russia, Yuuri was still greatly underprepared for how cold it was when he arrived. The palace consort had offered his sister, Mari, Minako-sensei and himself a fine fur pelt each to wear; something Yuuri gratefully accepted as the chill had gone through the wool of his mon-tsuki like needles, hakama soaked nearly up to his knees from the snow.
‘Stop biting that fucking lip,’ Mari snapped, Japanese vulgar in her impatience to get into the warmth of the drawing room they had been brought to. Yuuri squeaked, glancing quickly to where Minako-sensei was walking ahead of them. But thankfully, their tutor seemed not to hear them.
‘I c-can’t help it,’ Yuuri replied, barely containing his shiver. ‘My teeth won’t stop shaking.’
Mari rolled her eyes as they entered the drawing room, bowing her head to the servant who held the door for them. Yuuri followed after her, still dwarfed by his older sibling’s height and attempted to do the same, bending his body. Unfortunately, this just had Yuuri stepping onto the front his hakama and stumbling.
At 14, Yuuri was still adjusting to the formal wear, not used to having fabric bundle after him so much. It had taken great practice not to trip entirely over the hakama’s length, the weight of his mon-tsuki making it incredibly awkward to gather any semblance of lift over the whole ensemble. While the pelt didn’t help in that regard, it at least had the benefit of keeping Yuuri warm.
‘I’m sorry,’ Yuuri said in English to the servant, whose white skin and fine hair looked as striking as everyone else Yuuri had met in Saint-Petersburg so far. The servant said nothing, light eyes darting between Yuuri and the tall figure of their consort.
Lilia Baranovskaya was as imposing as she was alien to Yuuri, long nose constantly titled up in a position of great displeasure. Yuuri had only met her once before, four years prior when she had travelled to Japan first with the Tsar and his advisors. She seemed just as terrifying now as she did then, green eyes fixed on Yuuri like he were something she were about to dissect. She straightened the skirt of her Western gown, vivid purple silk which fitted her frame in direct contrast to Minako-sensei’s demure kimono.
‘She won’t understand you,’ Lilia said, her English sounding almost completely foreign in accent. ‘None of the servants speak English.’
‘Why not?’ Yuuri asked, curiosity ahead of his manners. Minako-sensei sighed, Mari rolling her eyes again.
‘It wouldn’t be proper. Now sit by the fire, before you catch cold,’ Lilia replied like it were obvious, before dispatching the servant in rapid Russian.
Yuuri was quiet then, knowing a dismissal when he heard one. Yuuri tightened his grip of the pelt around himself, walking closer to the chairs that were laid out before the fire.The sketches of the Winter Palace did not the do the reality of the building any justice, as far as Yuuri was concerned. It’s grandness gave Yuuri a hollow feeling in his stomach, nervous of the opulence that was gilded to the walls like it were worth the same as wood. Even the fireplace looked to be carved from riches, small gems of greens and reds encrusted along the spiralling gold carvings.
Mari sat across from Yuuri, her posture less proper than Yuuri expected. Yuuri didn’t imitate, keeping his back straight and hands folded neatly as Minako-sensei and Lilia began to speak in hushed tones at the chaise in the furtherest corner of the room. Discussing Yuuri, he was in no doubt. Yuuri watched the flames for a long while, talking with Mari about the journey, trying to ignore the mutterings behind him. When Yuuri heard the word marriage, the nervousness eating him from within won out.
‘Excuse me,’ Yuuri said politely, standing up from his chair. Lilia and Minako-sensei both looked from their discussion, eyes considering. Yuuri did his best not to blush. ‘But I’m feeling quite heavy-headed from all the travel. Could I be excused to take a turn around the gardens for some fresh air?’
Minako-sensei opened her mouth first, no doubt to tell Yuuri no. But then Lilia was standing, sharp chin pointed down in consideration.
‘Of course. I’ll fetch you a chaperone.’
Which was how Yuuri now found himself back out in the snow he had been so resentful of at first, an armed escort walking five steps behind him. But anything was better than sitting in that small, glittering room like it were anything but the cage it would inevitably be. Yuuri looked around himself, at the towering stone walls of the palace and how they seemed to dwarf out even the white blanket of the sky. The snow falling in the small, snow thick space of the garden courtyard that sat in the centre of the palace reminded Yuuri of the snowglobes the Tsar would send his family at the winter seasons.
Someday, Yuuri would be one of those small glass figures. Trapped behind a wall he could not see and drowning beneath Russian snow.
Yuuri’s turn of the square came to a halt once he crossed the far corner, the central trees passing to reveal a small arena of some kind that didn’t appear to be part of the original garden. It was like the pavement had been dug up to form a small, square pond of sorts. And on the pond’s frozen surface was a boy, a teenager perhaps, gliding across the ice like a dancer.
Yuuri stopped where he was, uncaring of the snow that was eating through his boots. He watched, transfixed as the other boy bent low, his body the delicate contortion of strength, before leaping into the air. Spinning, like string unwoven, and landing back on the ice with a clap like thunder. Yuuri’s heart swelled in his chest, entranced.
The boy was dressed well, or at least he was from Yuuri’s understanding of Russian fashion. He was wearing a coat of leather, fur-lined and thick so some of the movements of the boy’s arms looked unseamly with its bulk. On his head was one of those round, fur hats Yuuri had seen from his carriage to the palace, hands covered in rounded gloves. Yuuri found himself walking, interest and hope coming together like the stitching of his mon-tsuki, approaching the makeshift ice with speed.
Yuuri stopped when he reached the edge, which was lined with a straight wooden fence. The skater turned on his steel, speed ruddering him across the uneven surface of the ice. He looked over to Yuuri, reaching up with a gloved hand to pull the front of his coat down.
He was… beautiful. With a narrow face and straight nose, eyes vivid in their blueness and Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat. Yuuri flushed, whole body quaking as his embarrassment suddenly thawed the chill that had set in his bones. The skater approached as Yuuri tried to hide his quivering under the thick pelt.
The Tsarevich, Yuuri guessed. The boy who would become the man that would inherit this large, strange country. The man Yuuri would marry, as arranged by their respective courts.
The Tsarevich skated up to the fence, his pale skin burnished pink from the cold in a manner Yuuri couldn’t help but stare at. It was so strange, to see skin so stark like it were burnt. The boy was tall, even if he hadn’t been wearing his steel and easily the three or so years older Yuuri knew the Tsarevich to be. Yuuri’s breath was a cloud in front of him, the Tsarevich’s eyes glacial as they regarded Yuuri from beneath his cap.
When the Tsarevich spoke, it was in Russian and Yuuri was struck dumb with the speed of it, the harsh sound of it in his ears. Yuuri stared, unsure how to even respond. Yuuri hadn’t been taught Russian, on the request of the Russian court.
‘So they can hide their secrets,’ Minako-sensei had said with disdain, all that time ago. Yuuri realised too late that he still hadn’t said anything and he panicked, voice squeaking in his throat like a girls. Yuuri winced, embarrassed but the Tsarevich was suddenly cooing soothingly.
‘Prosti, prosti,’ the Tsarevich said, reaching out with a gloved hand to touch Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri flinched from the touch, unsure and the Tsarevich retreated. ‘I am sorry. English?’
Yuuri blinked, caught off guard. Then, his manners returned to him.
‘Yes,’ he replied, word a cloud in the cold. ‘I speak English.’
‘Wonderful,’ the Tsarevich replied, tugging a glove off with his teeth. Yuuri stared, amazed by the lack of propriety and strangely, relieved by it also. The Tsarevich held his hand out, fingers white like the snow. ‘I’m Victor.’
‘Katsuki Yuuri,’ Yuuri said, untangling a hand from where he had it bundled beneath the felt. Victor smiled, a slanted thing that made Yuuri’s stomach squeeze. Yuuri’s fingers were red now, too. Hand shaking. Victor took it, before looking down with wide eyes.
‘Your hand is freezing!’ he exclaimed and Yuuri snatched it back, afraid he’d overstepped. Then, much to his surprise, Victor tugged his other glove off and offered both out to Yuuri from over the top of the fence. When Yuuri didn’t move to take them, Victor took Yuuri’s hand into his own. ‘Please, I insist you take these. That fur won’t be enough, especially once the sun goes down.’
‘T-thank you,’ Yuuri replied, nerves catching on the words like hooks. He took the gloves, slipping them on when Victor waved a hand at him to do so. They were lined in fur as well and Yuuri couldn’t stop the sigh of relief he felt at having them. They were still warm from Victor’s skin.
Victor smiled again, his teeth sharp and eyes bright. Yuuri smiled back, happy to have pleased him.
‘Do you know how to skate?’ Victor asked, gesturing to the ice behind him. Yuuri shook his head, replacing his now gloved-hands beneath the pelt again.
‘No, we don’t really have the sport where I’m from,’ Yuuri said, not hiding the disappointment he felt. ‘But I know all about it. I’ve admired it for a long time.’
‘Perhaps I’ll teach you!’ Victor said boldly and it had Yuuri blushing. So forward, though perhaps Yuuri should’ve expected it. ‘Would you like me to skate for you?’
‘Please!’ Yuuri said, not bothering to contain the excitement he felt. Victor grinned, bright like the moon.
Yuuri wasn’t sure how much time passed between them. Enough for the snow to crawl up past the knees of his hakama, for certain and enough for even the escort assigned to him to cough. But Yuuri found that he didn’t care. He was totally caught by the movement of Victor’s body, the tumbling sound of his laugh. They shouted conversation across the ice to each other, Victor waving when he would skate close to where Yuuri was standing.
Then, Victor’s steel caught the edge of uneven ice, sending his body down. Yuuri cried out as Victor hit the ice, his cap flying off him in the impact. From beneath it, a curtain of long, fine hair spilled out. Silver as the ice it was laying against, Yuuri lost his words and even his panic for a moment at the beauty of it. Victor gathered himself up, brushing the ice dust from his jacket and looking around for his cap.
‘Ah, that was embarrassing,’ Victor said as he approached the fence again, shaking his retrieved cap. Yuuri said nothing, watching the sway of Victor’s long hair like it were a clock’s pendulum. ‘Though, I never have such a charming distraction.’
The compliment brought Yuuri tumbling right back down to earth.
‘I’m so sorry!’ he said, reaching out to touch Victor. He held Victor’s arm, barely feeling him under the layers of fabric between them. ‘You are not hurt, are you?’
‘I have survived far worse, I promise you,’ Victor said, winking and Yuuri was struck again by his brashness. Victor reached up, turning his hair around like rope.
Yuuri remembered when he had had his own hair cut before the journey, Minako-sensei pulling the strands back before taking a blade to it. Cutting it all the way up, to Yuuri’s ears. It was the fashion in the West, Minako-sensei had said. They had wanted to make a good first impression.
‘What do the people think, to have the Tsarevich grow his hair so long?’ Yuuri asked, admiring the way Victor’s hair shone like starlight from his dislodged cap.
Victor froze, abandoning the replacement of his cap and staring at Yuuri in a manner most uncomely with his mouth slightly open and Yuuri panicked, worried he had offended.
‘My- my apologies!’ Yuuri stammered, bowing as low as he could. ‘That was uncouth. Please forgive me.’
‘No, no!’ Victor said, seemingly finding his voice. Yuuri titled his head up, not entirely comfortable to straighten up fully yet. Victor pushed his fine hair from his face, looking quite sheepish. ‘You did nothing of the sort. I’m afraid it’s me who has been foolish and should be apologising. I swear, I never meant to mislead you.’
Yuuri did straighten up at that, suddenly wary. He stepped back, watching Victor carefully. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m not the Tsarevich,’ Victor said, eyes downcast with a look of shame. Yuuri’s heart stopped in his chest, stomach dropping like a stone. ‘I’m his skating coach.’
Characters: Dean Winchester, Y/N Winchester, Sam Winchester, Lady Toni Bevel
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: season 12.22 spoilers (if that’s still spoilers), not much. SPN stuff. If you can watch the show you can read this.
Word Count: 2100ish
A/N: This is my entry for @percywinchester27 aka Ana’s PJO Quote Challenge and my prompt was: “It’s okay,” he said. “We’re together.” He didn’t say you’re okay, or we’re alive. After all they’d been through over the last year, he knew that the most important thing was that they were together. She loved him for saying that. - I changed the prompt a little bit to fit the fic. I hope that is okay.
***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***
You fell to the floor with your back pushed to the wall and your legs folded up under you as you watched your husband run up the steps to try to catch the door before it closed between the four of you and the world outside.
The moment you heard him scream was the moment you gave up all hope. It was the moment you started believing this was the beginning of the end. It had all happened so sudden. Over the past year you had started believing everything was going to be perfect. Or at least as perfect as it would ever get for hunters.
Lucifer’s baby was still about to be born and you had, like your husband, never trusted the Brits, but Dean was okay. The mark was gone. Amara was gone. For the first time in years you felt as if you had the man you married back. Fully and completely. Dean was himself and as long as you had him, there had never been anything you hadn’t been able to struggle through.
Fandom: Riverdale Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader/OC Rating: NSFW, Mature Warnings: Language/Cursing, Adult Themes/Situations, Emotional Stress/Angst, Gang Activity, Underage Drinking/Drug Useage (Party responsibly!), Rivalry, Smut! Format: Part One of Three
Note: So this is a little something that popped into my head, inspired by the song, Wildest Dreams. Silly, I know, but some of those lines just seem to fit Sweet Pea so well. I couldn’t resist. This has a slight AU!Quality, where there is a strong football rivalry between the Southside High and Riverdale High. Cliche, perhaps, but I lovee it. There’s some Archie!Angst in the beginning, so if any of you are a sucker for that! This will be a three part mini-series, and should wrap up after the third part!
him, she couldn’t help but think he was beautiful.
Anonymous Requested: Hi! Could you write something where you’re Bruce’s daughter and you like barry? + Barry giving an s/o a piggyback ride?
Pairing: Barry x Wayne!Reader
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!
You felt yourself joyously laughing as you hugged Barry from behind. Prepped up on his shoulders, he ran around in his incredible speed, making you dizzy but also giving you the feeling of flight all at the same time. Holding you by your legs so you didn’t slide down his back, you clasped your hands in front of Barry’s neck and hugging him tightly.
You’d been riding his back for more than ten minutes by then - considering the fact that the rest of the team was gone, including your father, and you two had been extremely bored. You’d practically jumped at the chance of a piggy back ride considering that tis wasn’t the first time you two had done this. You always loved the way the wind blew your hair back and you felt like you were flying, and of course you didn’t mind being able to be so close to Barry.
You’d had a crush on the boy ever since your father had recruited Justice League. You yourself weren’t part of the team, mainly because your father didn’t want you in danger, but you did hang around the bat-cave very often. You helped your dad build new weapons and keep everything under order, you were almost partners with Alfred in a sense. You loved being able to be Batman’s daughter but you wouldn’t lie and say that having other people around wasn’t an incredible relief.
Though, you’d never tell your father about your feelings considering you were-
“What’s going on here?” You felt your entire body freeze as you heard your father’s voice echo around the small expansion of the room you were in. You felt Barry tense beneath you as well and with a tap against his shoulder, he leaned down to let you off. You turned around along with Barry only to see that all of Justice League had come in as well, not just your father, and probably seen everything that had happened.
You felt your cheeks warm as you noticed the familiar glances from everyone but your father. Coughing out of awkwardness, you pretended like nothing had happened; “hey, -uh, how’d the mission go?”
“Fine,” your father mumbled.
You glanced back at Barry who seemed just as nervous as you, but you smiled reassuringly his way and begun making your way over to your father. You opened your mouth to speak but he beat you to it; “whatever your intentions are with my daughter, Barry, they better not hurt her.”
“Barry?” Your father interrupted you, turning to glance at Barry. You followed his direction, meeting Barry’s eyes for a moment before he glanced at your father, nodded. “I never intend to hurt your daughter, Mr. Wayne.” Barry spoke, and you felt your cheeks grow warm - what?
You waited until your father turned back to his desk before making your way over to Barry who looked away from you with flush cheeks; “Barry?”
“I like you.” He mumbled, so quiet that you could barely hear.
You were quiet for a moment, unsure of how to reply before you smiled; “I like you too.” And before Barry knew it, you leaned up to press a gentle kiss against his cheek.
TITLE — long distance. WARNINGS — mature content and some swearing. WORD COUNT — 2,901 words. AUTHOR’S NOTE — i can’t even believe my last fic got over 300 notes, that’s insane, thank you so much. uh, this was supposed to be short and smutty but the angst in me came out to wreak havoc. it also turned out much longer than i intended (story of my life). and that fluff bit at the end? i don’t know her. anyway, hope you enjoy it, thanks for reading !
You’re woken up at 2:09 AM by a constant and nagging vibration, the glare of your phone guiding you as you blindly reach for the device. Through heavy-lidded eyes you study the name displayed on the screen and the sappy emojis that follow.
It’s your boyfriend.
“Hey,” you say, voice dripping with dread and worry, and fatigue. It’s silent on the other end safe for some rustling and just as you’re about to call after him, there’s a muted groan.
“B-bae?” He sighs into the transmitter—a sigh of relief. “Fuck,” he sobs. “I miss y-you. I… fuck.” Another sob. “Baby?”
Authors Note - I don’t know how I feel about this but it was highly requested and I forgot I finished it so here ya go. I probably won’t ever write something like this again FYI but I hope you like it anyways!
⚤ - CONTAINS SMUT
You awoke to the sound of your alarm going off loudly in your ear. You squinted at your phone reading 9:00 A.M. You shut it off quickly in fear that you’d awake your sleeping boyfriend, Ethan, who laid snoring quietly beside you. You had intended to get up early and make breakfast for him and Grayson since they had the day off and they were sleeping in. You crept out of bed and padded down the hallway to the kitchen, grabbing the ingredients. You heard shuffling down the hallway and expected it to be Ethan but instead you were met with a nearly naked Grayson who stood in nothing but a towel. His body was still dripping wet from the shower you presumed he just got out of and you tried your best to tear your eyes away. Grayson had a banging body, it was a known fact, so you really couldn’t help yourself.
Clint was still wearing his collar the next morning, and Tony couldn’t go more than five minutes without snatching the Omega close and nosing over his face and into his hair, mouthing down his neck to dig his teeth into the thick collar.
Clint didn’t do much more than lay his head back to encourage his Alpha closer, dragging his fingers through Tony’s feathers and backing up into any available wall or door so Tony could rock against him.
The first batch of pancakes burned because Clint had purred something into Tony’s ear that made the Alphas eyes shoot to red, and when Bruce came running up from the lab to see why the hell the smoke alarms were going off, he found Clint up on the kitchen counter, Tony wedged between his thighs crooning something about smart ass and beautiful and mine.
Bruce said a silent prayer of relief that he was basically immune to the pheromones that were no doubt flooding the kitchen, and pushed and poked at Tony until the Alpha laughed and peeled away from Clint, leaving a sweet kiss on his lips and turning to take care of the disaster that was the pancakes.
Warning: a little angsty, some inernalized homophobia, some fluff? I don’t know yet.
Summary: When Richie Tozier moves into the apartment across from Eddie’s, they nearly start a war. Richie keeps Eddie up at night and Eddie keeps Richie up in the morning. If only they got to know each other, they’d realize they’re actually not that different.
Inspired by the song Give you Hell by the All-American Rejects
Summary: Supernatural Half Blood Boarding School AU where students are paired with a human counterpart to help them adapt to the human world outside their supernatural communities.
Back at school, things don’t change much from the long weekend. The two of you are extremely close and make out every chance you can get. In fact, Shawn can’t keep his hands off of you most days. He had all but given up on appearance class because his tail just was not going away anytime soon. There was only so much you could do to help him hide it and he didn’t even want to anymore. Ever since the long weekend Shawn had been much more confident in having it out around the other half bloods and partners. It was like he finally realized that it didn’t matter what everyone else thought. It only mattered what he thought. And you of course.
“Shawn, you have to at least try to pass the test today,” you groan.
Shawn is standing, arms crossed, eyeing you up and down. He didn’t wear the cargo pants today like he was supposed to. He didn’t bring his hoodie like he was supposed to. If he had gotten up when you did, then he would have had both of those things with him. But he didn’t get up when you did. He stayed in bed while you showered and went to breakfast. You suspect he was getting himself off in favor of breakfast because the groaning you heard while in the shower was not his regular “I don’t want to get out of bed” groans.
He wasn’t prepared for the test today at all. Mr. Tempe was bringing in three human ex-partners to assess the student’s progress and they would be graded accordingly. The other students showed up looking every bit as human as their partners and if you didn’t know better, you wouldn’t have been able to tell which of the pairs wasn’t human. Then there was Shawn who strolled into the gym in his goddamned black skinny jeans, tail out. He didn’t even wear a long sleeve shirt to cover the scales on his forearms. “I’ll be fine,” he says with a smirk and you shake your head. He was NOT going to be fine.
☽Summary☾ Returning back to Korea after years of being under the ground, to see your parents. You wished it was all it took, to feel complete again. The aftermath of confusion, betrayal and sorrow was the reason to never come back into the boys presents. But it wasn’t until, seeing one them enter the same cafe, at the right time.
“Because it’s you, Jisu. That’s why.” Wonho snickered in defence, standing up to watch the smirk grow on the women at his couch. His head ringing and banging as the memories returned of your last moments together, as a couple.
“Because you were such a good boyfriend yourself-” Jisu spat, hitting right in the chest of Wonho. His stupidity to mess around with the enemy, and yet, even without your presence, he continues. “-The presents… late night phone calls with her… while you were right beside Soomi in bed, snuggled and cuddled together under the same blanket of mischief? Right?” Jisu continued to add on, while the feeling of confidence over washed by his grief and regret. The overpowering feel, of doing something so wrong, that the addiction to not get caught became too big.
summary: you got lost on your way to meet up with sweet pea
sweet pea was at one of his hangout places, some park with his fellow serpents, drinking of course as a way of celebrating their victory of fighting the north side. he told you to meet him there as you two were suppose to sleep over at his place and then go to school tomorrow morning.
he sent you the address to this place and by the looks of it on your map it wasn’t far away from your home. you decided that you’ll walk there and as it was getting darker and darker outside you hit the road. before you left, you texted sweet pea telling him that you should be there in about 15 minutes and he replied back to you, saying that he’s waiting for you at the place.
but your map on your phone took you to a total different area and in that process you were lost. you were trying to figure out your way around this area. it looked like you were close to the park but when you looked up to see what’s around you, there was just a bunch of old buildings you had never seen before. everything looked abandoned, the orange light that was illuminating the streets gave you a really sketchy and creepy vibe.
about/request: a imagine where you and tyler seguin have this thing going on, and you don’t know what it is. like it’s on the borderline between lovers and just friends. you really want to be with him but he doesn’t because he doesn’t want to commit and he probably can’t commit to you. and so you guys both have this silent agreement that you guys are going to end what ever you guys are at the end of the team party because that’s the only way it would save the both of you from heartbreak.
warnings: mentioned of drinking and is like really sad???
authors note: GUYS LOOK I WROTE AN IMAGINE AGAIN!! anyway i don’t know what this is, just take it. let me know what you think. requests should be open again soon.
here’s part three!! I am working on the next part of werewolf!Jin but until then, I hope you guys are cool with more single father!Yoongi bc it’s really fucking fun to write!! The link
for this is single father!Yoongi (all of
the father related posts are here but single father!yoon specifically is here)
You knocked on the door of his apartment, hearing a high pitched
squeal that definitely couldn’t have come from Yoongi. He was the one to
open the door but a little girl was stood in front of him, a curious
look on her face. Her hair was in a ponytail, a bow securing it, wearing
a unicorn onesie. She was undoubtedly related to him in some way,
either a little sister or a daughter. She didn’t seem to have the same shy personality he tended to have in class, more than eager to greet you.