defined by his voice

glasses || chris x eva

prompt: eva is studying at chris’ house after school but she ends up getting distracted by chris’ glasses.

requested by: anonymous

warnings: the tiniest amount of smut at the end.

a/n: i chose to write this because the thought of chris wearing glasses makes my ovaries explode.

//

If there was one thing Eva Mohn hated the most, it was studying. She hated even the aspect of starting it. There were so many better things she could be doing right now instead, for example she could be binge watching another show. Eva’s History coursework was piling up and if she didn’t pass on this, she would fail the entire subject.

Eva always thought that company made studying easier. She decided to go round to Chris’ house after school - which had become a weekly thing. Every Tuesday they would go to either one of their houses, make out a little (occasionally go further), talk for a bit and watch something. Although today she had to do some studying.

Eva lay on Chris’ bed getting frustrated with the coursework she was attempting to complete. The anger bubbling up inside her was so real and about to simmer over the edge, she was ready to toss her laptop out of the window.

“Breathe Eva, breathe.” She pushed the electronic device away from her, fanning her face as she started to sweat from frustration. 

Chris knew how stressed she got when it came to History, so he purposely distanced himself from her. He would either take a shower or just lie quietly next to her. Today he had opted for taking a shower seen as he had just been to the gym.

She collapsed onto the bed sighing deeply whilst covering her face up with her small hands. She needed a break. She picked up her iPhone scrolled through her instagram, seeing many pictures of people from her party which was the weekend before.

The door to the ensuite bathroom clicked open and out walked the one and only Chris Schistad in only his black sweatpants. His abs were gleaming and his arms looking extra delicious as there were small drops water peppering on his body.

Despite his naked torso looking fabulously beautiful. Eva wasn’t seeing that. All she noticed was the tortoise shell, large lens surrounded by a thin frame, pair of glasses adorning his face.

In all honesty, Eva didn’t know what to with herself when Chris made his presence known in a room with those glasses on.

Chris licked his plump lips and went to his set of drawers picking out a plain t-shirt to wear. He turned around and faced her with an adorable grin placed on his face.

“How’s your work going?” Chris asked Eva as he slipped the shirt over his head.

Eva wasn’t sure how to reply, her mouth was dry and she felt incredibly intimidated by how handsome he looked. She managed to snap out of her trance and coughed a little.

“Horrendously. I don’t understand it.” She replied.

Chris walked over to his bed and sat down next to Eva who had now moved to the end, her feet dangling off the edge.

“You know, History was my best subject. Let me help you.” Chris said and took the laptop from Eva’s lap.

Chris started to mumble some words as he read what was on the screen. Eva couldn’t help but admire his face that was concentrating, his defined jawline was just irresistable.

“Eva?” His voice brought her back into reality. “Are you listening?”

Her cheeks started to heat up a little in embarrassment. “Er…No, sorry.”

He rolled his eyes at her and commenced his explanation again, Eva’s mind started to wander to other places again. Absentmindedly her hands reached out to pull Chris’ glasses off. Before she could take them all the way off he grabbed her hands and looked her straight in the eye.

“What are you doing?” He attempted to sound accusing but a slight smirk was growing upon his lips.

“Nothing” She replied playfully.

Eva managed to wriggle her hands out of Chris’ tight grasp, still holding his glasses. She looked down at them and started to inspect the pair in detail. She manoeuvred herself around to face him, so she was sat crossed legs. “I really like these.” Eva said as she pretended to study them even more.

“Of course you do. You aren’t even listening to me?”

Eva tilted her head sideways, like dogs do when they are confused. She pretended to look as if she was thinking deeply. “Okay, maybe I wasn’t.”

“If you don’t understand it, then why aren’t you listening?” Chris moved the laptop off his knee and placed it onto his bedroom floor. He turned his full attention to what Eva was just about to say.

“I don’t know. I need help but I ended up getting distracted…”

“Oh really? I would never have guessed.” He replied sarcastically whilst silently smirking.

Eva placed Chris glasses back onto his head and fully looked at him, she was starting to completely lose it internally. She had been losing it to Chris for a while now but today was just the icing on the cake.

They weren’t together, well they were but not officially. She thought that was the best part about it. They both needed and wanted each other the same amount, everyone else and they both knew that they were basically a couple but they didn’t need to have a label. That was what made it so perfect.

“Mhum” Eva mumbled something unrecognisable, before wrapping her arms around Chris neck. “These are just such a big turn on for me.” She continued as she pointed at his glasses.

As soon as their lips collided, they were fighting for dominance. Their hands tangled in each others hair. Chris’ hands slowly slid out of Eva’s hair and inched down to the bottom of her back.

“You in those glasses, it does undescribable things to me,” She says out of breath.

“Maybe I will continue to wear them around you.” Chris replied with a smug smirk plastered across his face. He kissed her again. “So I can always have this treatment.”

Eva giggled against his neck as he reached down and squeezed her bum.
After this encounter, he definitely kept his word. Chris would purposely put his glasses on whenever Eva was around. Even if they weren’t alone, he would tease her in front of their friends by taunting her. Sometimes she would pounce on him to have a quick hook up. Other times she would just admire his beauty from afar and realise how incredibly lucky she was.

//

A/N: I am so sorry this update took so long! I’ve got exams this year and i’m trying to start revising now, so i’m probably going to be slow. I posted this on my wattpad ages ago and only remembered now to post it here. Requests are always open.

Theory after watching TFA again:

Adam Driver does great deal with his voice in TFA- moreso than the few other films I’ve seen him in. I think it’s on purpose- I think he’s defining the pitch of his voice to whichever side of Ben Solo happens to be shining through at that moment.

Low pitched? Kylo Ren.

Higher pitched? Ben Solo.

Of course, I’d have to see TLJ to to ‘confirm’ anything like this, but as far as TFA is concerned, this is how it seems to go. Even his “What girl??” is pitched higher- the first time we hear the higher pitch. During the snow fight? His first sentence is towards the lower spectrum, but talking about dad not being there anymore? All high. That lightsaber being his? All high. You need a teacher? High. The bridge scene especially is rife with different pitches and the lines reflect which ‘side’ of ben is speaking even more- “Your son is gone” Low. “He was weak and foolish like his father- so I destroyed him” High- who are you fucking kidding Ben. Etc., etc.

So yeah, if TFA is looked at by itself, I’d say Adam is definitely differentiating which side of the character is which by the pitch of his voice.

Shower Secrets (M)

Originally posted by defsouljb

A shower with your male best friend - in what world would that ever be a good idea? You know how it’ll end, yet you can’t seem to bring yourself to stop Jaebum from joining you.

Pairing: Jaebum x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 3,161

Warnings: very rough

Keep reading

Put your empty hands in mine (I’m gonna stand by you) - 12x12 coda

Also here on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9812102


They arrive back at the bunker almost at sunrise.

Sam wishes them a goodnight, yawning around the words, and claps Cas on his back when he passes him by. It’s a comforting touch, meant to reassure them both that they’re still alive and well, and Dean immediately longs to do the same. To put his hands anywhere on Cas’ body, to make sure that their friend is truly okay. His fingers twitch restlessly and he balls them into a fist, to keep himself from reaching out.

“You should go to bed, too. You still look like crap,” Dean hears himself say, though there are a million other words burning on the tip of his tongue. Or maybe just three. Three words, finally said aloud by one of them after they were left unspoken for so long.

Cas turns around to look at him, one eyebrow raised. “I thought you said that I look devastatingly handsome?”

Dean is so taken aback by the dry-witted reply, that he flounders for a few seconds. He blinks at Cas, who cracks one of his crooked smiles which he usually directs at Dean whenever he means to cheer him up or comfort him. Right now, it does little to calm the anxious feeling deep inside him, considering that Cas’ clothes are still a bloody mess and he looks utterly exhausted under that smile.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll call you that again when you don’t look like you’re gonna fall over any moment,” he answers gruffly and then makes the mistake of stepping closer and actually reaching out to put one rebellious hand on Cas’ left arm.

“Dean, I am fine. My wounds are healed and I will recharge my batteries soon,” Cas tries to reassure him, making those damn dorky air quotes and Dean is taking another step closer, right into Cas’ personal space, before he can stop himself.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath and his grip tightens on Cas’ arm. “Just- just please, take it easy. You’re home now, Cas. And I don’t want you to leave all on your own in a few hours, hell, not even in a few days, okay? Just get some rest and… just stay,” he pleads, the words tumbling from his lips in a desperate rush.

Something flickers in Cas’ eyes, a look of hesitation which Dean has seen there before, but it’s different this time. It seems both more open but also more guarded than ever, which should be a contradiction in itself, but his mind can’t seem to define it any better.

“I won’t leave today,” Cas replies, his voice steady and calm. “But Kelly Kline is still out there and-“

“We have months to find her, okay?” Dean interrupts, not wanting to hear this argument right now. He’s not ready to let go yet, quite literally. “And I will go with you, when you follow the next lead on her.”

That hesitant expression slides off Cas’ face at that and he smiles again, all soft and pleased and happy, and Dean wants to move his hand up to trace that smile with his fingers so badly, he’s shaking with the need.

“It could become rather unpractical, if you don’t want to let me out of your sight again,” Cas says, but he’s only lightly teasing and obviously far more overjoyed and captivated by the way Dean moves even closer, until he can feel Cas’ breath on his face as he speaks.

“I almost lost you tonight. Again. Cas, I – I can’t…” Dean’s voice breaks and he swallows against the painful lump in his throat. His eyes burn at the unbidden memories of Cas lying there in that barn, torn up and bloody and his flesh rotting away right before his eyes, while Dean was unable to help him.

His gaze flickers down to Cas’ lips and Dean can almost see that black mass of goo bubbling up his mouth again and the panic seizes his heart back into an iron fist and he can’t – he can’t let go, he can’t say what he truly wants to say and at the same time can’t think about what he’d do if Cas died without knowing that Dean feels the same way. That he loves him, that he’s family, that he belongs to them – belongs to Dean, just like Dean wants to belong to him.

It’s always been such a scary thought, wanting to belong somewhere or to someone, knowing that good things don’t last and people he loves always either go away or end up dead. But in the last few years they have built themselves a home here at the bunker. It’s not home though, without the people in it. Without Cas.

“Dean.”

Cas’ hand comes up against the left side of his face, shaking slightly, and Dean feels both electrified and worried about that unsure touch at once.

“Did you… did you mean it?”

The question leaves him in a whisper and he almost wants to take it back as soon as he utters it. Because what if he’s wrong? Cas had been dying. They had both been almost unable to keep eye contact, though for different reasons probably, and Dean is afraid that he’s reading too much into it, that those words hadn’t been solely meant for him that first time Cas had spoken them.

But Cas leans in even more, until there’s no space left at all between them, and Dean can smell the filth and blood still sticking to his clothes. He wants to pull them all off from Cas’ body and take him back to one of their showers where he can inspect every inch of him and clean him from every evidence of his injuries. His self-control is slipping alarmingly fast, considering how well he’s always been able to suppress the need of physical contact between them.

“I love you, Dean.”

Cas looks at him unwaveringly, the blue of his eyes intense in its determination and raw adoration, and Dean’s heart seizes so painfully, he thinks he might pass out himself.

He wants to say something. He does. But in the next second his lips are pressed against Cas’ mouth in something that can’t even be described as a real kiss. Dean’s mouth is open, since he can’t stop drawing in a desperate breath of air, and Cas doesn’t react for a long moment which makes Dean stay right where he is, completely still and only breathing against Cas’ lips, even as his body starts shaking.

Something salty runs down into the corner of his mouth and he realizes it’s his own tears, but before he can pull away and hide, Cas finally moves. His thumb brushes against Dean’s cheek right under his eye, wiping away the next tear that threatens to fall, and then he’s kissing back with an urgency that overwhelms Dean’s senses completely.

He doesn’t know how long they remain like that, wrapped up in each other, trading kisses and hushed whispers between each touch of their lips. It feels like it can never be enough and he’s sure that he will curse himself later for waiting this long, until it was almost too late, to give in to the feelings he’s harbored for his best friend for years. But right now he can’t bring himself to care, to regret anything that led them to this moment.

When they finally break apart, Cas is smiling at him and taking his hand in a gentle hold, his eyes alight with happiness. “Let’s go to bed,” Cas says, and he knows instantly and without any doubt that he means Dean’s bed. That Cas means to stay.

A smile breaks out on his own face and he nods, while he tightens his grip on Cas’ hand. “Yes.”

They leave the war room, holding onto each other all the way towards their room. He hasn’t said it back yet. Maybe the words will remain stuck in his mangled heart for even longer, even though he feels certain that he won’t be able to hold onto them forever. But considering the way Cas is looking at him, he knows. And that makes Dean feel more calm about it, more at ease that they will do this right, no matter what life will throw at them in the future.

They will face all of it together, as family.

But there’s one thing to be done, before they can crawl onto Dean’s amazing memory foam mattress and hold each other close like Dean has longed for so long.

He sweeps his eyes over Cas’ body again, the sight of all that blood still painful to look at, and his voice is firm and allows no argument when the next two words rush out of him.

“Shower first.”

———————

A/N: Cas said “I love you”. He said it. TO DEAN. I am still an emotional mess because of it and will probably never recover. So I needed to write this coda down last night, before I could even think about sleep. Edited it today, hoping to think more clearly, but I don’t think I’m more coherent now than yesterday.

Also I suck at titles, but I was listening to destiel songs on my playlist and this stuck in my head. Hope you enjoyed it anyway <3

graduation imagine

@tcobsession : If you could I would looove an after graduation imagine with a math teacher. It would be amazing if you could ❤❤  

 •

You walked out of the school hall with a certificate in your hand and a smile on your face. Today was the day you graduated, the day you were finally free from the pointless rules and the petty drama of high school. You could now live your life to the fullest, and do some traveling around Europe like you’d dreamt of since you were a kid.

“Y/N!” Your best friend cried out from the group of people she was standing around. Their heads slowly turned around; her dad,  your parents, your English teacher, and a face you’d grown very fond of as of the past three years - your Math teacher.

As you walked toward the group, you started to panic. Just seeing his blond hair and athletic build made your heart race, and it killed you that this would be the last time you’d ever see him again.

It was your parents who pulled you into a hug first, both kissing your cheeks at the same time. “I can’t breathe!” You cried, laughing as they pulled away.

“We’re so, so proud of you darling,” your mum breathed, her eyes brimming with tears.

Your dad rolled his eyes. “Oh, stop it,” he told her, before smiling at you. “Well done, honey.”

You grinned, watching as your best friend and your TC talked among each other. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy in your chest as you wished that was you right now, but your time would come, it had to.

Your English teacher placed her hands on your forearms, sighing in contentment. “Y/N, you were such a pleasure to teach. I wish you a very happy life, and I know that no matter what you do, you’ll be brilliant at it.”

“Thank you Miss,” you smiled, pulling her into a hug. She smiled warmly at you when you pulled away.

BF/N’s dad was quick to congratulate you after that. “Good job for not letting BF/N distract you too much,” he winked, making you laugh.

Your best friend grabbed her dad’s arm. “Come on, we have to go and see Mr. Callahan,” she whined, before dragging him away. It was no secret that Mr. Callahan was admired by almost every girl in the school. He was the Art teacher who’d only started this year, and he was very, very good-looking. Almost as much as TC/N, but no one had anything on him.

“Would any of you like a coffee?” your English teacher asked you.

TC/N and yourself politely declined whilst your parents both nodded enthusiastically. “Well, follow me,” she said, leading them away to the beverage stall and leaving you two alone.

You looked at TC for a moment. You took in his irresistible scent of cinnamon, his outfit consisting of a fitted grey suit with a white shirt and black tie, the small strands of hair that fell into his ocean blue eyes that you had so deeply fallen in love with. There was no denying that this man had had an immense impact on not only your education but your mind too. There wasn’t a minute where this man didn’t cross your mind, and by the end of the year you found it almost impossible to concentrate in his class when he sent you winks and smirks from across the room. He was almost intoxicating in the way that he drew you in, but you enjoyed it so much.

“So,” TC/N said, interrupting your thoughts. “This is the end.”

You sighed in relief. “Thank God,” you laughed. “I don’t think I could take another year now.”

TC/N clutched his chest in mock horror. “Well, I’m sorry for causing you so much pain!” He exclaimed, sarcasm lacing his voice.

“Shut up,” you laughed. “I just need a new start, that’s all.”

He nodded, looking into your eyes with his bright blue ones which drove you oh-so-crazy every time you saw them. “I think we all do at some point,” he said. “I think you’re great, you know that, right?”

Your heart raced and you felt a heat rush to your cheeks. “Really?”

He smirked, “really. Which is why I’m going to suggest that we keep in touch. I need some greatness in my life, and I don’t think I can take spending a year without you irritating me with your crazy questions every Tuesday and Friday.”

“Hey!” You protested, your cheeks now burning. “I’m not irritating. And they weren’t crazy questions. I just…. wanted to get to know you, that’s all.”

A laugh escaped his full pink lips, and from that moment on you were staring at them, imagining them on yours. He caught your gaze and cleared his throat, the cheeky smirk still apparent on his defined face.

“Well,” he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “If you’re not too busy, I think I can handle you irritating me for a while longer.”

He discreetly brushed his hand with yours, and you were positive that there were a million and one butterflies fluttering in your stomach right now. This was happening. The moment you had been dreaming of for three whole years was happening. TC/N, the guy of your dreams, was interested in you.

Confidence, Y/N, confidence, you thought to yourself, as you cocked an eyebrow. “And what do you mean by that, exactly?” you asked.

TC/N laughed, reaching into his pocket and taking out a black iPhone. “I think you know exactly what I mean. Give me your number, and I’ll text you.”

Your hands shook a little but you kept yourself composed as you took his phone, typing your name and number into his contacts. You passed the phone back to him, allowing your eyes to meet and your fingers to linger over each other’s for a while.

“Expect to hear from me very soon,” he told you, before pulling you into a hug. You wrapped your arms around his torso, inhaling his sweet scent and never wanting to let go. To you, he was a dream. A complete and utter dream. He was absolutely unreal, and for him to take an interest in you was impossible in your mind.

You slowly started to pull away, but not before you a placed a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be waiting,” you smiled devilishly, before turning and walking away.

Seconds after, you felt a buzz into your pocket. You took your phone out, and what was written on the screen surprised you completely:

i live in the third house on redgrove lane, you’ll know which one it is by my car outside. you, me, a blanket fort and italian food, tonight at 7. what do you say?

And with a huge smirk plastered onto your face, you replied:

sounds like a plan. x

On Sleepless Roads (2/3)

Summary: A S6 Canon divergence.  There’s an irony, she supposes, that something created to pull one into eternal sleep, is now a barrier to any sleep. Her body fights against the maddening exhaustion. She’s just so tired, so fucking tired and she can’t keep going like this.

Ao3  FF Part 1

The ice chills his hand as he presses it against where she says the pain is sharpest. But her body is warm as it curves into his, her head resting on his shoulder and arm slung across his middle.

“Thrown against the clock tower,” she answers without the question being presented. Earlier she had tried to reassure him that it just felt like a throbbing muscle soreness, no glass to show for the nonexistent incident. It didn’t work, even if her pain was not quite as dire as the night before.

He kisses the crown of her head and pulls her tighter, wishing that it were easier for her to fulfil her promise that she would sleep for weeks. She’s given so much of herself, he isn’t sure what there is left to give, but the title of Savior continues to demand more, to take and take. Its cost her a childhood surrounded by love and robbed her of sleep for months. And now…

“Hey, I’m okay-”

“Swan, you’re in pain. You can’t sleep, you-”

“You.” she thumbs the outline of his jaw. “I have you. The pain is already going away and now it’s just you and me, alive. That’s all that matters. And in a few hours, I’m gonna go to the station and do my job. I’ve functioned on a lot less.”

“Emma, you need sleep.”

“I love you.” It isn’t the first time she’s said it without looking at him, yet his heart flutters just the same. She sounds so tired, but he thinks it adds to the sincerity, her voice cracking with the truth of her words. His lips capture hers in response, turning her body to where it rests atop his as her arms find their way around his neck. Their languid pace is slowed with her smile, so big he has to pull away with a chuckle. “I take it that means you love me, too?”

“Aye, Swan. I love you, too.”

-/-/-

She goes to work later, despite his protesting. It’s a great distraction from the exhaustion that’s taken hold, giving her something to focus on other than what she wants and dreads the most. Her parents are taking this new curse - that’s what she’s labeled the dilemma that has seemed to rob her of sanity and redden the whites of her eyes - in strides. They beg her to sleep, but it’s not a plea she’s willing to give into, not without Killian beside her and even then…

It’s better like this. She’s more productive awake than asleep.

She spends her break on the Jolly Roger, listening to the banter of her father and Killian. (Waiting for rain is not the proper way to clean a ship, Dave. There are procedures that must be taken to make sure she is in top shape.

It’s not a she -

Did you captain her for centuries? She shall be whatever the bloody hell I wish.

Still doesn’t give an inanimate object a gender.)

Usually Emma would interject, but there’s a smile on Killian’s face the moment he looks to her, bright, happy eyes speaking to the deepest parts of her soul. It’s happened several times since returning to Storybrooke- an overwhelming calm rushing in at the sight of one another alive, putting a pause to the conversation and world around them as if they’re the only people in it. For now it’s enough. It’s enough to push her through the rest of the day - these stolen quiet moments in the midst of chaos. And later, after the sun has set behind the clouds, blanketing them in darkness, she crawls under the covers. “I don’t want to sleep,” she whispers to the man lying next to her. He’s massaging the knots from her shoulders in a comfortable silence. But already she can feel her awareness fading, his reply lost to a world of green fields and wind blurred trees.

-/-/-

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Coffee with Bucky

I wrote this a while back, it’s crap but it’s an excuse to use ALL my favourite Sebastian images <3

Then I realised it’s a Friday night and I’m just sitting here in my pyjamas googling Sebastian images and that I really am quite the loser.

Anyway.


Catching a train at 5.30am was never fun. But living in the middle of nowhere with hardly any trains, there wasn’t’ much choice. You’d got it down to a fine art now though. From rolling out of bed, rolling into the shower, and then walking, half-asleep, to the station, you could do it all in 30 minutes. Then it was queueing up at the one open coffee shop just outside the station for your regular order, standing on the platform, getting on board, and slumping into your seat.

And then. Then, technically, you could doze off, for the 90 minute journey. Or you could read a book, or do some work, or teach yourself a new language, or anything. But you didn’t. What you did do was to find excuses to stare, subtly, at the only other person who got on the train at your station.

You’d first noticed him about two weeks ago. You were used to being practically the only person on the platform. There were the occasional business-suited people, or travellers with suitcases off for an early plane. But he stood out, somehow. He’d been just ahead of you in the coffee queue, then he’d walked up onto the platform in front of you and, yes, you looked. He was wearing a very well-cut suit that day, and when he was three stairs above you, your eye line, was, well, you had no choice, right?

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And there she is - part 2 (a Sehun series)

“I’m having a small get together at my place on Friday and I want you to come.” Sehun had a way of asking a question without asking a question. It was a very effective with most people and he probably would’ve thought himself to be a master manipulator if he was that self aware. But Oh Sehun was the type of man to be blissfully unaware of the effect he had on people. Floating through life, beautiful and spoiled. Getting anything he wanted.

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Beautiful

I just really needed Murphy worshipping Emori okay (also tbh might write an E-rated scene but idkkkkk)

It’s almost dawn and Emori still hasn’t slept.

After tossing and turning for hours, she gives up on finding rest. She slips from the covers, careful not to wake John, who snores softly under a mound of blankets. She creeps into the bathroom, pushing the door shut and wincing as it creaks at the hinges. Leaning over the counter, she flicks the light on and squints at her reflection. The shadows under her eyes are startling in the bright light; the wrinkles at their corners are etched deep into her dark skin.

She sleeps in a short-sleeved shirt now, her arms and hands uncovered. She’s trying it, trying to learn how to exist in the skin she hates. It was easier in the Dead Zone when you had to cover your skin or wear a painful burn for weeks. Here, now, it’s harder to find excuses. [Read more on Ao3]

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Supernatural (Team Free Will) Preference: How You Meet

Dean Winchester:

I groaned as I rubbed my face with my hands, and I got out of my 1968 Dodge Charger R/T. I sighed before stretching my arms widely, and I squinted as the sun glared into my (e/c) mercilessly. I had driven 9 hours to California because Bobby told me there was a vampire nest, and I scowled at the thought of the old, cranky man. If he was wrong, I was going to kick him in the damn nuts.

I glared at a woman who stared at me, and I quickly made sure my gun, a Smith and Wesson model 4006, was safely tucked in the back of my pants. I shoved on a leather jacket before walking into a breakfast diner, and I checked my phone for the time; it was 9:38 A.M.

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There is no use in anything I do - Part 2

Summary: Since y/n doesn’t seem particularly interested in ever talking to anyone at Xavier’s school, due to her fear of making people do things they don’t want to, Charles Xavier decides to give her private lessons in order to help her control her mutation.

Not my gif

Words: 1570

Warnings: None

The professor hadn’t brought up his question in a few sessions, so you slowly started hoping that he would just leave it at that. Sadly your lessons weren’t going that well, you still hadn’t been able to control when a sentence phrased as a demand became an order the professor – or the poor soul he picked to assist him, mostly Hank – physically could not disobey. You knew that you would have made better progress, if you didn’t refuse to talk to anybody outside of your private lessons, but you weren’t going to change anything about that until you had at least the slightest form of control over your own mind and/or mouth.

Turned out, your abilities seemed to have some similarities to a telepathic communication system, which somehow made you feel better about yourself. It couldn’t be that bad if there was a connection between your powers and the awesome things the professor could do, could it? The more invidious part of your brain did definitely not agree with that.

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Glasses (C.C. Imagines

Word count: 879

Pairing: Cody x Reader

A/N: Simply because my Instagram timeline is filled with pictures of Cody in glasses at SDCC. Since then, I’ve been having strong feels.

~*~

If there was one thing I loved on my boyfriend at the moment, it was his glasses. Prior to when he purchased them, it was always the sunglasses that consumed his handsome face. Whether the both of us were taking a stroll in the sunny weather or attending an event, Cody always carried his sunglasses with him.

But now? Cody wore the clear, large lens surrounded by the thin frame.

In all honesty, I didn’t know what to do with myself when he made his presence known in a room with those glasses. Some times, I felt intimidated and always shrunk away from him in a shy manner. Other times, I would pinch his cheeks and call him names like Honeybunch or Shnookims because he just looked so adorable behind the lens.
Today in particular was a day where I was a mixture of both.

I was getting frustrated with the assignment I was attempting to complete in my Economics course. The anger was so real, I was ready to toss my laptop out of the window.

“Breathe YN, breathe.” I pushed the electronic device away from me, fanning my face as I started to sweat from frustration.

Cody knew how I got when it came to this course so he purposely distanced himself from me. He would either leave the apartment to workout or just relax in the living room quietly. But at this moment, I knew that I needed his help.

Huffing, I gathered my laptop in my sweaty hands and made my way towards the living room. He had the volume low on the television, a sign that he knew I was studying. What a generous boyfriend he was.

“Babe,” I sighed, “I need your help.”

He muted the volume completely now, all attention focused on me now. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything.” I plopped down next to him, criss-crossing my legs Indian style. “I can’t figure everything out about this freaking lesson and I’m getting so mad about it.”

He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to his warm figure. “Aw, is my lovely Princess about to cry?”

“No.” I laid my head on the back of the chair, closing my eyes. “But I think I’ve burned most of my brain cells. Can you see what I’m doing wrong?”

“Yes.” He pecked my cheek.

For a minute or two, he mumbled the directions displayed on the screen of my laptop. Silence passed as turned to see him glancing over my work so far.

That’s where I got lost. I stared at him with those glasses adorning his face. He licked his chapped lips, adjusting his seating to a better posture for himself. His usual scruff covered his defined moving jawline.

“Babe?” his voice made its way back into my thoughts. “Are you listening?”

I could feel my cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Um… no. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” said. “Here, I’ll explain it again. It’s a mistake you made, a little one. Nothing big.”

He commenced his explanation again, my mind wandering other places again. Only this time, I let me eyes stay on his glasses. He was my poindexter in disguise: handsome, sweet, and just beautiful in general.

Before I knew what was happening, my hands were reaching out to pull the glasses off. Coming back to reality, he stopped talking to look at me as I held them in my hands.

“What’re you doing?” He attempted to sound accusing but a hint of a smile graced his lips.

“Nothing.” I playfully answered. I maneuvered myself around to face him so I was sitting on my folded legs. “I really like these.” I said as I pretended to study them.

“Of course you do. Were you even paying attention to what I was saying?”

I tilted my head sideways as if I were thinking deeply. “Now that I think about it, no.”

“Then why’re you here?” He removed the electronic device from his legs and set it on the coffee table. His hands made a patting motion, a gesture suggesting for me to envelop his legs.

“I don’t know.” I answered as I straddled him. “I needed help with homework but… something else interested me.”

“Oh really?”

“Mmhm.” I was losing it internally. So, I set the glasses on the table before wrapping my arms around my sexy boyfriends neck. “And it’s such a huge turn on for me.”

In a millisecond, we were making out. Our lips were battling for dominance while our hands were all in each others hairs. Cody’s hands slid out of my hair and down my back, inching its way to my bum. Once they reached their destination, he squeezed my bum lightly which caused a moan to slide past my slightly open mouth.

“You wearing those glasses does things to me.” I said in between our kiss.

“Well maybe I should continue wearing them.” he smirked. “So I can get this kind of treatment more often.”

I giggled as he squeezed my bum again, only a little bit harder.

He was right about wearing them though. In the time that I would spot the Dexter glasses adorning his features, I would pounce on him just for a quick make out. Sometimes, it was something more.

~*~

If you guys want, you can send in requests of yours. Personal or not, it’s up to you!

♫I Alone-Live// Marauders Era: Remus x Reader

Request:  Hi! :D If requests are still open could I request something? :) A story with young Remus and the song I Alone by Live. If you want to. No pressure! If you don’t feel like it I understand ;D ❤️ Loved your Sirius story!

A/N: Hope you like it lovely!

The way they met was a cliché, dropped books, gently exchanged words, undiscovered sparks glowing in the crisp, question-filled air. The fleeting touch of innocent fingers that would burn for days after in the most stunning of ways.

Stress overtook her as she stared down at the Potions book she’d just borrowed from the library, trying to carve the heavy words into her mind, bumping into multiple irked students as she rushed down the hall, her eyebrows coiled into a concentrated frown.

Seconds passed and her books were on the floor, pieces of parchment happily scattered on the cobblestones. She knelt down, reaching for her Divination assignment when another hand touched hers, a divine shock flowing through her fingers.

“I’m so so sorry”, the brown haired boy fumbled, picking up her possessions, while she stood still, a calm smile on her face, a sense of enlightenment in her heart.

“That’s alright”, she spoke softly, “Don’t worry about it”.

He fumbled with his words, gentle apologies drifting through the air, barely reaching her mind embraced by fascination at his enchanting presence.

“..I hope I didn’t mess up your work or anything”, the boy stood up, extending a hand which she happily accepted, and handing her books back with the other hand.

“I’m Remus.”

His name reached her through her daze as she shook her head slightly, landing back in reality.

“Don’t worry about it, honestly”, she smiled sympathetically, “God knows it’s happened to me more than once” a giggle escaped her lips.

“I’m Y/N”

He flashed a shy smile her way: “Lovely to meet you.”

“Likewise. I’ll see you around!” she beamed at him as she waved, walking backwards and hit yet another annoyed classmate, causing her to turn around and rush to class, glancing back to see the chestnut coloured wonderboy walk away.


Strangers that knew each other better than they could understand. Brief glances and smiles with the radiance of a million suns, a radiance which pursued them wherever they went, lingering, ready to blaze as soon as their eyes met.

Weeks were filled with flirtatious glances fluttering through the air filled with unsaid words. Her smile reeled him in, emptying the world of all but her slender figure reaching for a book on a shelf that was too high.

Loud jokes and strong nudges from his best friends, a grin and a few shakes of his head. Prolonged glances and smiles, a sting of jealousy when her soft voice was gracing Lucius’ ears instead of his own.

Then, finally.

Keep reading

Island Escape: Part 11

Originally posted by wanjacks

JJ Project Series

Warning: Contains smut and violence in some chapters

Teaser Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17

Keep reading

Hospital || Luke Hemmings

Originally posted by beallamy

I M A G I N E 

“Take her to a hospital- hurry!”

“I’m calling 911 as fast as I can!”

“Call faster! You- check her phone for any contacts, the one she calls most. Call them and get them to the hospital we’re off to.”

“She’s not breathing!” 

Keep reading

Imagine Ben flirting with you...

“Hey.” a voice called, coming up behind you as you stood at your post. Looking back over your shoulder you smiled, watching as Ben came to stand by you, his eyes scanning the treeline automatically. “Morning, Mason.” you smiled, readjusting the gun in your arms. It was an uncomfortable, dangerous weapon that everyone else seemed used to since day one, especially Ben, who carried it like an extra limb. 

“How do you do it?” you asked, exasperated when the strap got caught on your arm, again. “Do what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you before smirking at your clear struggling. Not that it encouraged him to answer. 

“Handle your guns..” you grunt as the strap somehow flicks you in the face and you realize that you with a gun is practically hopeless. Your eyes flick back up to meet his as he lifts an arm, flexing the muscles that no doubt exist below his many sleeves. “I don’t know, I guess it’s just… Natural.” he wiggled his eyebrows before chuckling at your deadpan face. 

“You’re trying to hard.” You chuckle, finally getting the gun to sit right with your hands on it correctly (or so you hope). “No way, I could try much harder.” He chuckled back, still somewhat quiet from his shy, dorky days. “Yeah?” You nod your head at him, inviting him to prove it before turning and scanning the treeline again. 

He took a long moment, and for a while, you didn’t think he would keep going, but then he spoke. “If you were a triangle, you’d be acute one.” you turned back to him, one eyebrow raised in doubt as you stared at his small little smile. “That was terrible.” You laughed slightly, until he partially interrupted you. “You must be made of Copper and Tellurium, because you are Cu-Te.” He grinned as though he had succeeded at something spectacular, especially as you started giggling. “On a scale of one to ten, you’re a nine. And I’me the one you need.” He laughed too, this time, before stepping forward. “I lost my number, can I have yours?” You laughed, despite the fact that no one had a working phone anymore.  

“Those were so bad…” You laughed, shaking your head at him and letting that quiet, comfortable silence envelop the both of you for a few minutes. 

But eventually, in that soft, quiet but strong and sweet tone of voice of his that can only be defined as completely, and totally Ben, he muttered “Sincere though.” with a one shouldered shrug and the twitch of one of his eyebrows before he turned away looking back at second mass’s home base. Your lips tilt up in a small smile as you take on what he said, your eyes remaining on him as he pretended he hadn’t said what he had. 

“So about this damn gun.” You brought his attention back, sharing a smile with him before he stepped forward to show you how you were actually supposed to hold it. 

With Him

Jacob Frye x Reader

Words: 1163

Requests: 

1) New to your blog and I was wondering if you could possibly write something about Jacob Frye. If that’s okay with you. Thank you!

2) Can you write some Jacob fluff?

A/N: I’m not entirely happy with this, for which I owe an apology to the requesters. I’m sorry!

The steady thrum of water splashing to the ground was your only comfort, darkness wrapping around your form like a blanket. It had been months and yet, you still found that it haunted every thought, lurked around every corner of your mind to the point of insanity. You shivered, not necessarily from the freezing drops stabbing into the black cloth of your suit, but because of the truth. You had been so sure of who you were, so positive that your path had been the right one, until they had to shatter your heart, unravel the very fabrics of your reality. 

Since then you’d had only three constants; your Creed, the twins, and the evil encompassing this city like a plague. Two of which you had entirely worked out, the last one, well… Evie and Jacob were complicated. You’d much rather focus on the more gruesome side of things than think about your relationship with the twins. Evie had been your friend through much of your childhood, always being there whenever you needed her. It wasn’t so much her relationship as it was that of the other Frye’s. 

You and Jacob were… difficult to explain. You very much did get along with the man it’s just sometimes you got along too well. He would give you that look, mischief mixed with something more, and it would make your heart race in anticipation, your skin ache for his touch, and your mind freeze. To simply put it, Jacob Frye was going to be the death of you.

“A little late for an afternoon stroll, don’t you think?” His voice rang out, the defined accent echoing through the night. Speak of the devil.

“It’s never too late.” You shrugged, keeping your eyes on the lights scattered throughout the city. To most, it would be a beautiful sight, to you however, you only saw the corrupt, the broken, and the bloodied streets. You only saw the cold, hard truth underneath the pretty lies they tell themselves. 

Heat was radiating from Jacob’s body as he stood just a fraction too close, your senses honing in on him entirely. You didn’t have to turn your head to know his eyes would be shining brilliantly, didn’t have to observe him to notice the darkness and danger that lingers just underneath his features.

“Why are you really up here, love?” He sounded oddly serious, your eyes not daring to meet his gaze.

“Do you think I’m like them?” You asked lowly, staring at Jacob’s boots. His feet moved to face you, the dirt crunching beneath the leather.

“No,” he stated simply, two warm fingers lifting your chin up. His look was serious, the adamance in his tone making you fall just a little bit more. You never wanted him to look at you any other way, his eyes practically placing a crown upon your head and proclaiming you a queen.

“Thank you,” you whispered. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a little smirk, his fingers pulling you closer to his body.

“It’s only the truth,” his breath was ghosting your lips, prompting a shiver. It felt sinful, moving inch by agonizing inch closer to his lips, your body practically screaming his name. Your eyelids fluttered closed, your mouth tantalizingly close to his. Just a few more seconds and… a throat cleared, causing you to jump away from Jacob like he burned you.

“Am I interrupting?” Evie asked, a brow arched high upon her face.

“Not at all,” you stuttered at the same time Jacob bit out, “Yes.” Heat creeped up your neck, covering your face in a red stain as you looked to Jacob.

“Well, whatever I may or may not have been interrupting,” you could’ve sworn Evie sent you a sly look, “We’ve got a little… situation.” Jacob sighed heavily, nodding.

“The fun just never stops, does it?”


You and Jacob had two very different definitions of fun, you mused, wind whipping through your hair, rain slapping against your face, and mud splattering against your boots. Your muscles were screaming at you in protest as you dragged them further, pushing yourself to the absolute max. You could see the red flash of a cloak below, hear the loud footsteps as the Templar barreled through the streets. A smile bloomed on your face, the Templar only seeming to make your job easier. 

You kept through the air, enjoying the rush of adrenaline and the fluttering feeling in your stomach at the flight as you landed roughly on your target, hidden blade sliding smoothly into his throat. Your breathing was labored as you pulled the blade from his flesh, his warm blood spreading on your hands as you brought his face to the light. 

For one terrifying second, it was his face. His dark, lifeless eyes were staring blankly up at you, his lips parted as he breathed your name one last time, the wretched stench of regret on his last dying breath. You stumbled back, the memories cutting deep into you like a fresh wound. You were shoved back into reality as your back connected to a hard chest, two strong arms wrapping around you. For a panicked moment, you struggled, just waiting for the pain of death. Instead, a soft whisper hushed you, two hands needing at the flesh on your hips.

“Jacob,” you whimpered, turning and burying your head into his chest. He pulled you tight against him, his words like a rope pulling you out of the darkness of your own mind. Your senses flooded with Jacob, all remnants of death and regret blowing away in the breeze. With each waft of his leathery and sugary scent, you were slowly calming down. His gentle touch coaxing you back into stability. “I’m sorry.” You whispered finally, staying in his warm embrace.

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart.” He hushed, running a hand through your soft locks.

“It is,” you cried. “It’s my fault he’s dead.” His hand faltered for a moment, his body pulling back so he could look into your eyes.

“Your father was a Templar, both of your parents were. They chose their fate when they attacked us.” You needed to believe it, needed to listen, but you just couldn’t. You knew that some part of you would always blame yourself, but for right now, you reveled in the feel of Jacob. With him, you felt just a little more whole. With him, the world didn’t hurt as much. With him, you felt love. And the look in his eyes told you one thing; he felt the same way. 

He smiled softly, pressing his forehead against your own in the sweetest of touches. “You’ll always have me.” As illogical as it was, you believed him. You both lived dangerous lives, death at every corner just waiting for a single slipup. But in that moment, you couldn’t care less because you had Jacob, and a second with him was worth more than a lifetime without him.

2

(A/N: Just a lil somethin’ for you today. Some King Henry love till I come up with something good for a continuation for the other one.
Reader is a bit younger than him in this, cause he is friend with her father, but about at the age of 23)

“You are Henry the fifth, right?” you asked him “King of England?”

He nodded at your words “Indeed. You have heard about me?” he asked intrigued.

“Everybody’s heard about you. Everybody knows you.” you stated “Besides, you fought with my father on the most recent war in France, right?” he nodded at your words “He told me a lot of things about you. He trusts you a lot”

“I am glad to say he does. Just as much as I do. We have a great friendship that has lasted through the years.” he said with a smile as you both had started taking a small walk through the garden, his hands were folded behind his back and yours in front of you.

Some fresh air was definitely needed but talking with him was needed much more.

“He has also told me a lot of things about you. He is really happy to have a daughter as you and after all this time I couldn’t help but want to meet you as well. That’s why I came here tonight.” he said, looking down at you with a small smile.

“And I have to say it was certainly worth it” you bit your lip as soon as the words left his mouth, and tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“Really?” you asked sheepishly looking up at him.

“Oh yes. And I am most happy to say that reality far exceeds my expectations” he added with a small smirk.

“And you mean?” you askeplayfully, smirking at him and raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled slightly as you stopped walking and stood in front of you “That your beauty far exceeds what your father had described you to be. It far exceeds what anyone could have ever prepared me for. For it is is impossible for anyone to have ever prepared me for this, believe me. And I assure you that it greatly exceeds my expctations. That no matter how hard I imagined you, this- what now stands in front of me is much more than what human imagination can come up with. That you, my beautiful princess- (Y/n)-” he let a soft chuckle at his small mistake “- are so much more than it is possibly imaginable. That the beauty that now stands in front of my eyes is greater than the finest pieces of art I have seen in my entire life, made by both artists and God himself.” he said in a soft voice, his accent more evident now - clearly defining his origins.

It was soft like velvet that you could almost reach and touch it. He spoke as if he was a great poet and at this moment you were sure you could stay and listen to hm for hours to no end talk and talk about anything and anyone. Even if it was the most simple of things you were sure he was going to make it sound so great and he would surely have you captivated just like now.

“A simple ‘You’re beautiful’ would have been enough” you said with a soft chuckle that soon died off as you stared up at him like you were in a daze.

He chucled as well “I suppose. Forgive me if I tired you, then. It is impossible for me not to speak as that when I gaze at you, my lady” he said apologetically.