Whizzer makes casual sexual jokes and gestures, just to mess with Marvin. He’s the king of embarrassing him.
One day, Marvin gets so embarrassed that he gets up, tells Whizzer he isn’t paying the bill, then runs out.
Marvin forgave Whizzer eventually.
Jughead ripped through red lights faster than even the most lenient traffic laws allowed, something was wrong. Something was very wrong, and he felt his chest getting tighter the closer Pops came into his view.
The cause of his absolute panic? That would be The text message from Archie currently open on his cellphone, thrown lazily on the passenger seat of Fred’s oldest Pick up truck.
“I’m at Pops with Veronica, she’s a mess. It’s Betty. She’s gone.”
Gone? Gone where? What did that mean? Why wasn’t she answering her phone? And why the hell didn’t he walk her home from school today?!
Betty and Jughead had gotten into an argument earlier that day, an angry, heated, vicious argument, each of their insecurities bubbling up to the surface as they spewed nasty words and said things they were sure to regret. Jughead had skipped walking her home after school, sending Veronica instead. Betty was tense and distant from the morning all the way up to their blowout, when he asked her about her behavior she brushed him off, maybe he should have kept his cool but he hated that she was keeping things from him, needless to say the fight didn’t end well and he had gone off on his own, leaving Betty standing alone, crying in the blue and gold office.
Pulling crookedly into a parking spot in front of Pop Tate’s, Jughead jumped out of the car and ran into the restaurant spotting Veronica crying as Archie had an arm around her consoling her, he practically hopped over the booth
“Where is she? What happened?” He demanded, eyeing the raven haired mess.
“I tried to stop her. I did everything I could, she just lost it. She wouldn’t stop crying, she just kept saying “I’m crazy too, I’m just like Polly”. She was ripping her hands open.. she’s got these scars.. Jughead I did everything I could.“ She whispered through a sob as Archie wrapped her in his arms.
"Where is she?! What do you mean "gone” gone where?! You have to tell me more, I don’t understand” he shouted frustrated, his hands slamming on the table.
Archie could sense his friends mood shifting and spoke in low hushed tones
“Ronnie said she’s having herself admitted, something about the same place as Polly. Dude.. polly.. Polly tried to kill herself last night, Betty found her downing pills in the bathroom, Betty thinks she’s crazy just like Polly she doesn’t want to get worse.” Archie cleared his throat, his brown eyes rimmed with unshed tears, sometimes Jughead forgot that Archie was Betty’s true best friend, he had been there before Veronica, before Kevin, even before Jughead.
“I’ve gotta stop her.” Jughead whispered “I’ve gotta stop her before it’s too late, those people at the Institution? They’ll ruin her. she’s not crazy. You know she’s not crazy.” He looked desperately to his friends who were all nodding
“She’s not crazy, she’s just hurting. She’s overwhelmed, she needs support not a nuthouse” Veronica sniffled
Jughead nodded to his friends as he rose from the booth.
“I’m not letting her drown, not without me.” He declared before running off to the truck and speeding off to Betty’s.
As he raced the streets of Riverdale, time seemed to be nothing but an illusion, he was in front of Betty’s house and slamming on her front door before he even knew he had turned on the ignition.
Alice Cooper opened the door and caught sight of Jughead, her red rimmed eyes and frazzled hair stuck out painfully as she visibly relaxed at the sight of Jughead. She knew her daughters boyfriend was the only one who could talk some sense into her broken daughter.
“Thankgod.” She mumbled “upstairs Jughead” she moved aside, watching him sprint up the stairs “our fair Romeo, off to save Princess Juliet” she whispered, the first hint of a smile she had seen in days resting on her face.
Jughead felt his muscles tighten, as he stood before her door. What was he supposed to say? I’m sorry for not being there? I’m sorry I left you like that? I sorry I couldn’t see that you were hurting, that you needed me?
His anxiety ridden thoughts were quickly cut short as Betty’s bedroom door ripped open revealing the beautiful blonde. Betty’s cheeks were covered in smudges of blood, he assumed from wiping her tears with bloody hands, her ponytail was half down, strands sticking to her damp face, the buttoned blouse she wore was missing a button and her hands were shaking, but god damnit if she still wasn’t the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
“Bets.” He whispered
At the sound of his voice, something shifted in Betty’s eyes as she fell against her boyfriend in a pile of chest aching sobs, her hands running all over him almost to ensure that he was real, he knew she was getting blood on his cheeks but that was okay, it was a part of her, a vulnerable, open, heartbreaking piece of his perfectly imperfect girlfriend.
After about thirty minutes of holding her as she wept, her breathing finally slowed and she looked up at him exhausted, her fingers moving to wipe at the blood she had left on his cheek, before flipping her own palm to stare ashamed at what she had done. Jughead shook his head and whispered “no” before bringing her open palm up to his lips and kissing her scars gently.
He heard Betty sigh as she leaned against his shoulder, he had to tell her, he needed her to know, there was so much he could say to her but he settled for
“We’re all crazy”
Those same words he had uttered almost four months ago, relaxing when he felt her smile into his shoulder
Prompt: Alexander notices little drawings on your hands and writes on his hands to talk to you. Soon, you’re both covered in words and drawings from your conversations together. Months go by and your friendship grows to something more.
Pairing: Alexander Hamilton x Reader
A/N: This was a request from an anon. I changed up a few things from the original request but I hope that this is still good. I hope you guys like this! My requests are always open so don’t be afraid to send one in, no matter how weird.
You grabbed your coffee order from the counter and found a table to sit towards the back wall. Your back was towards the corner but you faced the whole coffee shop and the window next to you. Carefully laying out all your notebooks and journals, you got comfy in your seat, ready for cramming for tests that were coming up. You wrap your hands around the warm mug and look out the window. The skies were clear and people filled the streets.
Couples walked by hand in hand.
Mothers pulling along their children.
People rushing off to work.
You look down at your table, dreading the work that’s ahead of you. You take a sip of your coffee and set it aside when a figure walks by your table and nearly knocks down all your books off the table. You slam your hands down, keeping them from falling while the man takes a sea two tables away, directly in front of you and sat facing you.
Part 2 of something. Prompto’s fantasy continues. Oral sex, groping, a little nipple play and choking. Barely any at all.
Ignis stared down at him, unblinking and intense as the grip on Prompto’s chin tightened. If not for Ignis holding him tight and Noctis pressed against his back he would have tried to duck away from Ignis’ gaze. It was so focused, as if by staring the older man would be able to see right through him and read all of his thoughts. His skin prickled as a cold sweat broke out across it.
When Y/N was 3, her mother and her sat in the pack house waiting for the rest of the pack to return. The waiting was filled with the laughter of the small girl and her imaginative brain thinking of ways to entertain her mother. She sat upon the couch staring at her mother making multiple funny faces. Her mother all the while laughing at the little girl’s antics.
The pack however were on their way back from a successful hunting trip. Minseok especially happy to be bringing home a large buck for his family. Kris, pack leader was in front carrying his own back for his mate who waited for him. Not yet going through the process of marking and unable to turn into a wolf yet meant she stayed at home with Minseok’s family.
Upstairs Kris’s mate slept in her shared bed, locked doors preventing any unwanted visitors.
While the pack was on their way home, Minseok’s wife held their daughter strolling around the house humming along to a song she heard on the radio a few days prior. The soft melody slowly put the child wrapped up in her arms to sleep. The child’s eyes slowly slipping closed and going limp in her mother’s arms.
Requested: Imagine Tom riddle using Amortentia on you, And you guys get married and
have a son ((reader is under the spell, she doesn’t truly love him))
“Mummy!” A small dark haired boy came clobbering down the stairs of the home as you sat on the plain couch in the living room with a melancholy look about you. A half folded child’s shirt fresh from the drying line crumbled in your lap as you stared blankly at a patch of creme colored wall.
Snapping out of your daze you looked at your son’s solemn, dark eyes. They look so very much like his father’s you thought.
“Mummy may I go play outside?” He asked politely and you looked down at the garment laying in your hands like a broken bird and swallowed. “Alright.” you nearly croaked, sadness laced your voice, “But just for a little while, your father will be home soon.” The boy’s face lit up a little bit, but still managed to look grim as he ran for the back door.
“Don’t forget your hat and Jumper.” you called after him as he grabbed the scarlet garments off their hook beside the back door and sped off quickly.
You couldn’t figure out what was the matter with you, since the early after noon you had felt a cloud of gloom hanging of your head and dampening your spirits. It felt as if all the cheer had been sucked from your being and replaced with a fog as thick as the mist on the Thames.
Your husband would be home any minute and oddly enough even the thought of your beloved walking through the front door of your cozy home did not pull you out of the mud of your despair, if anything it only added to your frustration.
The front door opened quietly as your spouse entered the threshold. “Darling?” you felt your very soul sink into your stomach as you ducked down your head and fiddled with shirt. “In here Dear.” you called, with a crack in your voice.
The tall, handsome man entered the parlor and smiled a bit. “There you are Love, where’s Damien?” He asked and you avoided his gaze, “He’s out in the yard playing. I’ll go get him…” you stood suddenly but Tom came from behind you and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Let him play a while.” he said but it felt like a command.
You nodded and sat back down silently, beginning to fold the garments slowly. Tom sat in the high backed chair by the side table and eyed you almost critically, making you shrink under his cold gaze.
“You don’t look happy my dear.” He noted finally and you forced a small smile. “Don’t be silly Darling,” you assured him. “I’m just feeling a bit under the weather is all.”
Tom frowned and moved to your side and placed a hand on your lap and you found yourself flinching away from his touches, the usually tender fondling now unpleasant and unwanted.
Tom frowned deeply and pulled his hands away, “How about some tea?” he suggested, and you nodded, anything to get him away. “There’s some water already in the kettle.” you whispered
Tom left and entered the kitchen and you set aside the laundry and rapidly rubbed the places he had touched, as if they suddenly itched or burned.
Tom reentered with a single teacup and saucer.
“Here.” He set it front of you on the table and sat back in his chair. “go on dear, before it gets cold.”
You picked up the cup with both hands and took a sip. the brown liquid scalded your throat and tongue but it was not bitter, but instead it was sweet, and tasted of candied cherries, sweet cream, and laced with a twinge of pepper mint.Tom always made the best tea, but he refused to tell you what he put in it.
As soon as the drink settled in your stomach you felt an overwhelming sense of bliss and contentment. closing your eyes a moment and taking another drink Tom watched you with an unreadable look until you finished off the hot beverage and set down the cup.
After a moment all former unhappiness was washed away and you smiled a full grin. Standing up you went over to Tom’s chair and knelt on the carpet beside him. “Darling, it’s the strangest thing, but I can’t even remember what I was upset about.”
Tom looked down at you and your blissful expression and cupped your cheek, “well it mustn’t have been very important then.” He assured you and you smiled before standing up. “Must not have been. Thank you darling.”
He stood and embraced you firmly, pressing your body to his protectively. “I’m sorry for being so foolish darling, can you forgive me?” you asked, breathing in his scent and loving the feel of his heart beat in his chest.
“Of course Darling, everyone has sad spells once in a while.” He hooked a finger under your chin and tilted your head up. “Promise me if you feel that way again you’ll tell me?” you nodded and smiled.
“I promise my Love, thank you.” Tom smiled and kissed you gently before pulling away and smiling, “Now go get Damien from the back yard will you dear?”
You nodded and reluctantly stepped away, wanting only to be in his arms once more. With a new found sense of happiness you made for the back door and called for your Son to come in, not knowing that as you left Tom pulled a small narrow vial from his sleeve and made a mental note to stop by the potions shop tomorrow and to up your morning dosage of Amortentia.
It wouldn’t do for you to go a leave him and take his only heir with you now would it?
His scent is all around her, sticking to her clothes, to her hair, to every inch of this room, to the world.
She looks at her palm, not a trace of the wound left.
Nesta closes her eyes; she should be asleep, but she can’t and it’s not-not because of her new life- like it has been for all this time since Hybern, not because of her rage or because of the bite of anger in her stomach, it’s because-
it’s because she can’t stop thinking about him.
And it’s neither cold nor hateful, both feelings she is used to, it’s- it’s warm and grateful and she doesn’t know what to do with it.
“Nesta? Are you awake?” Nesta nearly jumps at the soft sound of Elains voice. Her sister moves and comes near her and Nesta wants to move away, but doesn’t. “Are you thinking of him? Of Cassian?” Elain whispers, her voice tentative and gentle like she’s dealing with a scared child.
Nesta doesn’t turn to look at her sister, doesn’t answer, she just clenches her fists until it hurts.
Elain takes a deep breath, as if she doesn’t know if she should press the matter or not, and Nesta hopes her sister will just go back to sleep.
But her sister moves closer and Nesta can feel Elain’s eyes on the side of her face.
“I saw him, in Hybern,” at those words Nesta turns sharply to look at Elain, fear poisoning her heart and two words on the tip of her tongue
“It was just a moment but I-I saw as he tried to move; to get to you.”
Nesta looks at Elain, at her soft brown eyes and her throat burns with words and words,
why are you telling me this?
it doesn’t matter
I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care
liar, liar, liar
but Nesta can’t move and breathe and think. It’s too much, more than she deserves and she-
Cassian kept her together when she was breaking and now- What did she do for him? What did she do to deserve all of this? Is it the promise he made? Does he feel obliged to do all of this?
She screws her eyes shut for a moment, trying to not think of his apology, of the way his voice broke because it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
And Nesta, she wants to scream because a part of her- childish and stupid and cruel- hopes it’s not only that, not only that promise, hopes there’s something more, something that will explain the ache in her chest, like a fresh wound, like nothing she has ever felt, like need and affection and-
She knows it’s not only her body he wants, not like all the men in her life that made her lips curl in disgust, she knows that Cassian wants more and that scares her so much because she knows, she knows.
Nesta looks at her sister now and there’s a soft smile on Elain’s face, like she already knows what’s haunting her older sister and Nesta can’t help but notice how this is the first time she and Elain have a conversation like this, the first time that her sister, the sister she always tried to protect, to shield from the world, tries to talk to her of such matters and Nesta doesn’t see a child, not her little, innocent sister, but a young woman, an equal.
She doesn’t know why it leaves the taste of pride and loss on her tongue.
“Goodnight, Nesta,” Elain mutters and shifts to hide under the covers, soon to be asleep.
Nesta closes her eyes, opens them, stares at Elain’s hair, at the ceiling, the wall, and closes her eyes so tightly she sees white dots like stars on the inside of her eyelids.
She thinks of him and thinks of him and thinks of him, of his voice, of his hands, of his skin, of the way he makes her lose control, of the way he put her back together.
He tried to save her.
She wraps her arms around herself, trying to replicate his warmth, to feel as whole as she did in his arms, but in vain; she feels hollow now, and she wants to hate him, to break him for it, for taking a part of her with him and leaving her empty.
And the more time passes, the more unbearable it becomes, the way her skin aches with the memory of him, makes her want to crawl out of her own flesh.
Nesta hides her face in the pillow, her hands gripping the fabric like she’s falling from the edge of the world. Why did he try to save her? Why? With his wings shredded and his family in such a vulnerable position, why did he try to go to her?
She-Nesta doesn’t deserve it, like she didn’t deserve his promise, so why did he do it? Why can he, and only he, look right through her like her-like her walls are only glass and why couldn’t she stay away from him, those hazel eyes drawing her in like a moth to a flame.
And in his arms, Nesta felt at peace for the first time since she was turned into, into this thing, or, if she has to be sincere with herself, since ever.
And only the thought of it makes her hate how vulnerable he makes her feel- Nesta wants to cling to her anger, because it’s something she knows, and no matter how much it hurts her or those around her, it is safe, unlike the voice that screams at her to cling to him.
She wants that voice to disappear forever.
And that thing, that shield she created, growing from her chest and all around them, with the sole purpose of keeping him near her, to never let him go, it was the proof of the monster she now is, of how unnatural she became and of how-
of how much she wants him.
It crushes her, this need of him, makes her do things she never would have done, like tipping up her chin to him, for him, exposing her throat to Cassian, digging her fingers in his leathers to keep him close- she has never done something like that, she never allowed herself such vulnerability, not even with Tomas, because he was just another man, just someone who could keep her from starving, and Nesta remembers how wrong he felt, how his touch made her want to wash her skin for days and days, how his fingertips on her skin left her feeling unclean, like all the men that looked at her like she was a piece of meat at the market.
But not Cassian. There was something else in his eyes, something that she didn’t know, something stronger and deeper.
And she can’t-she can’t think of him in that room, alone, in pain, only the thought of it makes her ribcage close in on her, makes it feel like a cage.
She can’t, can’t, can’t
Nesta moves, and the cold of the pavement under her naked feet brings her back to reality and she tries to clear her head, breathing deeply.
She looks at Elain one last time, at her sleeping form, trying to make no sound.
There’s a fire in the pit of Nesta’s stomach and it burns more brightly than she can bear because she doesn’t understand it, she can’t hide it and she can’t extinguish it and it doesn’t decrease, it burns and burns and it engulfs her and she wants to get lost in it, like when she was just a little child and would sit in front of the fire for hours, watching the flames dance, or when they were in that damned hovel, when the fire was the only thing keeping her alive, the only thing giving her some semblance of warmth.
She walks out of the room, looking at the light of the moon on the corridor as she walks faster and faster.
She is in front of that room again, Cassian’s room, and she grips the handle so strongly her knuckles become white and she feels fear pooling in her gut as she starts to lower it, but thinks better of it; she knocks, as lightly as she can because she doesn’t want to startle him or-or to wake him if he’s sleeping she just-
If he’s going to save her every time, she will do her best to deserve it, she will-
No words come from him but Nesta feels something, like a sharp tug right in the middle of her chest pulling her forward and she lowers the handle: the room is dark, the only source of light is the moonlight coming through the tiny window but even if she can’t see him, she knows that Cassian is awake.
She moves slowly, her eyes adjusting to the darkness quicker than they should, and she sits on the chair in front of him, her chin high, her back straight, her hands trembling.
Nesta can feel Cassian’s eyes on her and she’s glad of the darkness, but he moves, his arm going so near her that she holds her breath and as his fingers touch the candle on the nightstand a flame rises and she looks at him, at the utter surprise painted on his face, like he can’t believe she’s here.
She looks back at him and she realizes that she never said his name, not out loud, only said it inside of her head, locked away in her heart.
Nesta looks at him, her hands closed into fists around the fabric of her nightgown and whispers
He’s surprised, but you’re even more surprised that you’re there.
The influx of passengers with their cabin bags dragging right behind them is a mist that you stand in, staring into wide brown eyes. Your throat feels dry but your eyes are wet with tears, his crestfallen face now alight with a familiar spark as he takes in the sight of you. He really didn’t think you’d come.
“You told me to leave,” he breathes out the moment he crosses the distance between you in hasty steps, “you told me to leave. That we shouldn’t be together anymore. Did you change your mind? Tell me you changed your mind, because let me tell you again, I have never disagreed more with anything in my life.”
He’s panicking as the crowd around you grows more hurried, trying to make it to the plane on time. As the crowd moves faster, so does his heart, and so do the words that recklessly spill from his lips.
You’re deemed immobile as you stare up at him through hooded eyelids. It’s the tears that blur your vision and the pain that burns your throat, yet his face in front of you seems to be the remedy for it all. Maybe you never should’ve told him to leave. You almost chuckle to yourself, of course you never should’ve told him to leave… It was that realization that hit you like a tornado at 5am that brought you to the airport after him. Of course you never should’ve told him to leave.
“We’re running low on time here.” Baekhyun is begging now as he speaks, hands too shy to hold onto you, but you see it in his eyes that he wants nothing more than to pull you in. You want nothing more than to let him. “I want nothing more than to spend my entirelife with you. Can we stop wasting time now? I don’t think I’ll live to be 150.”
None of the fights, the insecurities; they simply don’t matter anymore. Anything that was standing in the way of your relationship isn’t there now; and the final call for his flight echoes in the air around you, as does his final call for you.
“I’m sorry,” you mutter, “I’m just- You’re going to miss your flight.”
“Exactly.” His laugh is breathless, and oh so wonderful, and you want to kick yourself for thinking you could live without it.
Sooooo, I had this idea about a child between sam and mika and I just had this really cute idea come to mind. I don’t know if anyone has already started to do fics like this or if it’s okay? But I made one. It’s overly cute, so be cautious. Here’s to all the Sam fans!
Anonymous said: Can you do a smut where MC and Shuichi(nobody else) are stuck in
an elevator at night and she’s really drunk and she decides to
initiative but Shuichi rejects at first because he’s embarrassed to do
it there? :) love your tumblr!
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Fandom: Kiss by The Baddest Bidders Category: Smut Character: Shuichi Hishikura Notes: Another smut for the brilliant nudist Shuichi, oh and I change it a little.
Startsslow, it gets better. I’ve already done elevator sex with Baba and I tend to write very different plot for each story so hope this is enjoyable.
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You’re going home late again! This is the third time this month, another IVC this weekend and the bidders are finalizing some items for the auction, meaning Mr. Ichinomiya demands your coffee every hour. You’re exhausted, god you just want some decent sleep. Hurry out the door as you run to the closing elevator doors.
“Hold please!” You call with your poor Arabic, the doors open again and you step in to see Mr. Hishikura which you haven’t seen since the day he got you out from the King. (see Voltage game for details) “Thanks,” You mutter, he looks serious and dangerous. His eyes hasn’t left his phone as he presses the close button. Watching out of the corner of your eye, he’s wearing a brown business suit with brown vest, white shirt and red tie. His black hair is well kept black hair with side bangs plus a pair of narrow glasses. Serious he may be but he sure is hot.
The elevator stops and pull you out of your morning fantasy but it doesn’t open. Mr. Hishikura quickly looks up, presses the call button but no one answers. He then turns around, scanning you quickly before walking towards your direction, he stops right in front of you. So close that you can smell his cologne, it’s mixed of vanilla and lavender. A little surprise that someone like him would use something so calm and sweet, he takes one step closer and makes you gulp nervously and keep your eyes close.
Seconds later, the loss of his scent make you wonder and open your eyes to see him smirking down at you. You turn to see a notice behind “Please do not use the elevator between 12am-10am. Maintenance being done.” Fuck, you secretly think. You are go8ng to be so dead! Mr. Ichinomiya probably will chain you to his kitchen as punishment. Your phone ring and it’s Chisato, “______, where are you? Mr. Ichinomiya is …. a bit.. umm..cranky, he wants your coffee.” *Sigh*
“I’m stuck in the elevator. Can you get someone to get us?” You ask, “Okay, are you with someone else?”
“Yes, I’m stuck with … Umm .. another gentleman.” You hesitate then reply the last word in a different language, “Why did you say that in Chinese?” Chisato asks as she begins walking towards the security, “Wait is he super hot and you don’t want him to know you’re talking about him?”
“I am not talking about him, you are.” Ignoring you, she insists, “So is he hot?” Sneaking a quick glance at the man, you cover with your hand and answer, “Yes he is, really hot and he .. stood so close to me.. I thought he’s gonna kiss me .. I closed my eyes, I didn’t even know why I did that!!! Stupid then I opened my eyes to find him reading the bloody maintenance notice behind me, it was so embarrassing!!”