he caught this fly as well

humblebeecastiel  asked:

Can y'all update the biting tag? It's been about a year and it's my weakness.

absolutely

Claiming Run by 3rdgenderfromthesun (12/12 | 42,840 | NC17)

Stiles was convinced his mate wasn’t out there, but just when he was ready to put life behind him a snarky sourwolf stepped in his way with an offer he couldn’t refuse… a business partnership as a trucker with sexy times on the side.

if you’re going through hell (keep going) by theonewiththeeyebrows (1/1 | 10,291 | NC17)

Stiles didn’t know until he was gone. Until it was a constant ache.

A chasm in his chest that nothing could fill.

Not all the alcohol in the world. Not all the attempted mindless, nameless fucks. Not magic. Not Scott, not his dad, or his friends. And Stiles couldn’t call him back. Because calling him back would mean that it meant more.

And Stiles couldn’t admit that.

Not after he had insisted it didn’t.

He couldn’t call Derek back, not again. Not after he’d finally gotten him to leave this hell hole again.

The Shop by Stiles_Hale_38 (1/1 | 5,707 | NC17)

The shop is run specifically for werewolves. Werewolves need mates, and Peter is just a man trying to help some wolves out, so, he sells omegas, little omegas, young omegas.

Derek, Peter’s nephew, has never taken interest in the store or any of it’s purchases. Sure he’s looked around, but never found anything, that is until Peter calls him in for help renovating. The minute Derek walks in, he catches a scent, and with a little searching, he finds Stiles, and knows he is the one, and he doesn’t care how much he costs.

Trail of Woe by 3rdgenderfromthesun (2/2 | 10,041 | NC17)

Somewhere amidst all the fear-smell and their impending death sentence another scent caught Derek’s nose. It was one that spoke of hope and future and that he was almost sad to find here.

Sinful Touch by XOXOBlockMania_21 (1/1 | 5,110 | NC17)

Stiles was cursed with, you guessed it, girl parts by a fuckin’ Witch!

And the only way for him to turn back is to get laid…

By Derek fuckin’ Hale…

Can You Feel the Sparks Fly? by liam_hale (11/11 | 28,997 | PG13)

It was a Saturday, the weather was nice, there were no immediate threats to Stiles’ wellbeing. Well, aside from the fact that he had just intimidated an Alpha that practically molested him the previous night. But Stiles conveniently forgot that little fact.

In which Derek is a powerful Alpha and Stiles is a powerful Virtue. Drama ensues.

-

I’m no longer updating this work. Originally intended to be 50+ chapters, but quickly devolved and due to various factors, cancelled.

Derek’s Valentine’s Day Mission by Lesatha (1/1 | 7,597 | NC17)

Someone hires bounty hunter Derek to catch Stiles.

no biting on the first date by haleofStilesheart (1/1 | 3,898 | G)

Derek has never kissed anyone before. Not even when he was sort of dating Paige. But that’s all about to change when he decides to play spin the bottle at a party his crush, Stiles, is at.

The Adrien Diaries...

6 Mar 2017

You know how I said I was going to be killed by the muffin man, Diary? Turns out, I was wrong… pretty sure at this point he’d settle for having me neutered. Well, maybe not Adrien Agreste…

…just the leather-clad superhero he caught KISSING HIS DAUGHTER TONIGHT!

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The Box of Holes (Poly! Hamilsquad x Reader)

Pairing: Poly!Hamilsquad X Reader

Requested?: For My Dearest Alexander (@notthrowingawaymyfood )

Prompt: Reader brings home a suspicious box with holes.

Words: 800+

Warnings: Poly Relationship, and FLUFF.

~~~

You softly closed the door behind you as your bag plopped onto the ground and you kicked off your shoes. You kept a tight grip of the squirming box in your arms as you crept into the strangely quiet apartment you shared with your boyfriends. At least all of them would be home at this time on a Thursday afternoon. Lafayette would be writing songs on the balcony, Alexander would be typing away at his laptop in the dining room, Hercules would be sewing in the spare room, and John would probably be watching anime or playing Mario Kart in the living room. That’s why you were stealthy and tried not to make a sound. You never knew when one of them would pop out and see you. 

You tiptoed down the hall, the box held tightly to your chest. You noticed the spare room’s door was open and the sound of the working sewing machine and Hercule’s soft humming was heard. You remember the layout of the spare room and knew you can’t walk past the room without Hercules seeing you. But you could try and run past. Taking the chance, you silently sprinted past the spare room, your heart skipping a beat when the machine stopped but you sighed in relief when the whirring started up again. You then moved on to the next trial.

Alexander wasn’t in the dining room when you passed by ao he was probably sleeping or using the bathroom. The sound of the running shower confirmed your theory as you proceeded forward. But once the water stopped, you noticed how the door was halfway closed. Laf or John probably was talking to Alex and didn’t close the door. You knew how Alex liked his privacy but this was ridiculous. You slowly crept to the bathroom and heard Alexander shuffling around, singing softly to himself as he dressed and dried his hair. You thought you were in the clear once you passed the door. But you froze when the box in your arms yelped. You heard Alexander stop moving in the bathroom as well.

“(Y/N)? Are you home?” Alexander’s voice came from the bathroom just as the door was opened fully and the sewing machine in the spare room went silent. You immediately booked it to the bedroom. Unfortunately for you, John was exiting the said bedroom just as you slid across the wood floors and smacked right into him. The box in your arms went flying and Hercules caught it just as you slammed into John, pushing you both against the bedroom door.

“Woah,” John chuckled as he groaned in pain. “Babygirl, if you wanted to get busy, you could have just walked calmly to me instead of slamming into me.”

You blushed a bright red as you raced over to Hercules, trying to take the box away from him. But because of the height difference between you, you couldn’t stop him from opening the box. The source of the yelping popped it’s head out and sniffed the air, barking again as its tail wagged.

“Surprise.” You say flatly as you take the small black-and-white Papillon puppy out of the box and held her to your chest, letting her lick your face and nuzzle you. “I found her while I was walking home from class today. The person said he didn’t her so I took her for free. He let me take her. Her name is Orca, like the killer whale.”

Alexander, Hercules, and John all stared at you, their hearts swelling up at how cute you looked holding the small puppy. All four boyfriends knew how much you loved animals and how much you wanted a puppy, but your landlord always told you ‘no dogs in the building!’ Then you guys moved into a different, pet-friendly building and you gushed at all the dogs on your floor. The boys wanted to get you a dog, but you were all so busy and the dog wouldn’t get enough love and attention. But now that you’re taking online classes, you’ll be able to look after little Orca while the boys were at their jobs.

“Can we keep her?” You ask then. pulling your heart-melting puppy-dog eyes and stuck your bottom lip out. 

The three men all opened their mouths to speak but they were cut off by a fourth but French male voice. “Oui, we will keep her.”

You all turned to see Lafayette standing there, holding a golden retriever puppy in his arms. The two puppies yelped and barked at each other, squirming in the human arms that restrained them. Once they were released, the two puppies sniffed and played with each other, barking and yelping in delight. You all couldn’t help but laugh at this. You then all exchanged looks before Alexander spoke up.

“If I find dog hair on my clothes, I’m letting them sleep outside.”

Mustn’t Twitch

Stiles x Reader


“(Y/N)!” Stiles yelped when you pointed your finger at your locker, letting it swing open.

“What… oh right, sorry I’m still sleepy.” You yawned, snuggling into Stiles chest when he rolled his eyes and hurried over to help you switch out your books.

“Yeah well just because you’re tired doesn’t mean you can start zapping things around!” He muttered, as you slumped against him, almost dropping you when you fell asleep. “How are you so tired?”

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Mad: Part 15

“We’re all a little crazy on the inside, some are just better at hiding it than others.”

Warning: Contains violence and tense situations

Teaser  Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 16

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Best drinks in Town. [Smut]

A;N: Hello pretty people! I’m so sorry I have been gone (writing wise) for so long! Life’s been a bit hectic lately! However, I had this idea and I couldn’t get it out my head! Enjoy! xox

Pairing: Stuart TwomblyxReader

Author: thelittlestkitsune

Warnings: Smut.

Word count: 5,851

Listen to me.

Originally posted by writingissatansworstnightmare

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March 1, 2017

“Happy Birthday, Jen,” you whispered against his neck as he slowly stirred in the dark bedroom of your Vancouver apartment. You kissed his lips slowly as he rolled over on his back, allowing you to slid on top of him, his morning erection pressing at your bare core, already attentive and needy. 

“Hmmmmm,” Jensen moaned against your lips. “A beautiful young woman on top of me. That’s an awesome birthday present to wake up to,” he yawned, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close to him. 

“Oh it gets better, sweetheart,” you teased as you kissed down your husband’s neck, moving over his bare chest and down the grooves of his abdomen, your nails scrapping his skin lightly until you settled over his erection. 

“God I love this day,” he growled as his eyes meeting yours before he let his head fall back against the pillow, the feel of your tongue sending him into a whole new world of pleasure. 

Suddenly you were thrown back almost ten years, to the birthday that started this little birthday tradition. 

March 1, 2008

“Hey Y/F/N!” Jensen yelled as he crossed the dark room toward you with two drinks in his hand. You had just joined the Supernatural family this season, and it had been a wild one. It was season three and there had been a writer’s strike, so there wasn’t as much time spent filming which left a little more time for play. 

Like celebrating Jensen’s birthday, one of the stars of the show. You had become fast friends with him and his co-star Jared. Jensen was nine years older than you, Jared four and a half, but you were so much like them, being from the south, that you fit right in and three of you became nearly inseparable. The chemistry between the three of you had been incredible from the start. 

You chuckled at him. It was his 30th birthday, and he was already well on his way to being completely and totally sloshed. 

“Hey Jen,” you smiled. “Not exactly taking it easy are we?” you laughed, watching him sway a little as he handed you one of the drinks in his hand. 

“It’s my birthday woman!” he replied, a little loudly. “And I’m fucking thirty,” he emphasized that last word like it was some magic rite of passage that explained everything. 

“Oh thirty!” you said with an eye roll. “That some magic number Ackles?” you asked. 

“As a matter of fact, it is sweetheart,” Jensen answered, taking a drink from his glass. “But you’ve got a long time before you figure that out, youngin’” he teased. “Like what, nine years?” he scoffed. 

You rolled your eyes dramatically. 

“Just because I’m only 21 doesn’t mean I don’t know how to have a good time, asshole,” you said with a wink. “You’re working on not getting the present that I got you,” you added with an evil smile. 

You caught his attention at that, and he set his drink down, leaning in closer to you, his chin on his hand as his eye lit up brightly. 

“Are you finally going to give me that kiss I’ve been begging for?” he teased with a smile. 

“Jensen Ross Ackles, I’m a lady,” you said, feigning shock by placing a hand over your heart. “I would never,” you laughed.

His eyes widened playfully as he watched you carefully. 

“But wouldn’t you? It is my birthday after all,” he retorted. 

You laughed in earnest. 

“Who gives a fuck if it’s your birthday, Ackles? My birthday was two months ago and what did I get?” you asked. “Oh yea,” you laughed, “You and Jared took me out and got me wasted and then you spent the evening holding my head up out of a toilet,” you reminded him. 

He smiled and laughed as he covered his face, embarrassed. 

“That’s an awesome gift, dude,” you said with an eye roll. “I would have preferred a kiss.” 

He watched you carefully. 

“Well, Y/N, that wasn’t exactly how I had planned that night to go. Who knew you were such a lightweight,” he teased, stepping closer to you. “Guess you learned your lesson, huh?” he said as he placed a tentative hand on your hip, pulling you closer to him. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear you. 

“Well, then I guess your birthday present is long overdue. Even if it is my birthday. I’ll make an exception this time,” he said, his lips lowering to yours. 

Your breath caught in your throat as he stopped, his lips hovering over yours. 

“I mean, if you want the present,” he teased, his nose bumping yours softly. 

You grabbed a fistful of his t-shirt and pulled his lips to yours. They crashed together, sparks flying the minute the two of you connected. Jensen wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you closer to him, his tongue sliding along your bottom lip, begging entrance. 

He slid in your mouth with ease, his tongue fighting yours for dominance. He won easily, and you moaned quietly into his mouth as your free hand reached around to play with the short hairs at the back of his head. 

Finally the two of you pulled away, breathless, both of your chests heaving. 

“That a better present?” he asked, a smiled spreading across his face, reaching his eyes and causing them to crinkle slightly. 

“Hell yeah,” you whispered as you un-clutched his shirt, smoothing it out across his chest, his muscles rippling in response to your touch. 

 He leaned close, whispering in your ear. “So what did you get me?” 

You looked him in the eye, threaded your hand with his, and led him away from the crowd, back to a private room.  

“Something you’re never gonna forget,” you smiled wildly, leading him away. 

“Holy shit,” he murmured, following you, watching your hips sway tantalizingly. “Best birthday, ever,” he growled once you were alone, and you pulled him close, kissing him fiercely. 

“You’ll never forget turning 30, Jen,” you whispered against his lips as your fingers reached for his jeans. “I can promise you that,” you added as you slid down in front of him, your hands pushing down is pants and briefs, showing him just how much you wanted him and giving him the best birthday present a man could ask for. 


Submitted by both @thing-you-do-with-that-thing and @chaos-and-the-calm67 I’ve been waiting for the best moment to write this one… It seems now is the time. Hope you girls like it.

nepenthe (m)

members: jeon jungkook, reader, a hint of jin on the side.

words: 5,261

summary: you’re jin’s soulmate. jungkook is an immoratal who’s been bound to you from the beginning of his existence. he’s helped you through everything in your past lives. this time is no different once you discover commitment isn’t your best friend.

a/n: this may or not be the start of a small series, idk depends on whether or not i finish my list by my birthday lmao. but anyway happy EARLY birthday @jinxkook​!! since this was meant to be posted on your birthday, and i prepared a sweet lil letter and all, i’m not gonna delete it, but i sincerely hope it’s a good day for you, you really deserve it dude. stay happy (and please take care of yourself) much love. ;]


Originally posted by jjks

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Send Your Cutest (Peter Parker AU)

Prompt: “My special request for my pizza was to send their cutest delivery boy and you came in with an embarrassed look and you told me that you were the only working and I blurted out that they didn’t get my request wrong.” 

“Just one big pepperoni and we’re good,” your best friend said as she put some money on your desk. You nodded as you began to look through different variations of pizza on the online pizza delivery website, Stark’s Pizza Shop. 

Y/F/N looked at her phone momentarily before setting it on your desk. She grabs a towel that she left on the couch. “Gotta take a quick shower. Don’t eat up the whole box without me or I swear I will murder you on the spot.” she threatened before running to your bathroom. You dismissed her threat with a small hum.

You clicked on the classic pepperoni (NO PINEAPPLES!) and before you could confirm your order, your eyes darted over to the special request bar, daring you to type on it. You bit the inside of your cheek as you pointlessly typed in the words in your head on the bar. No hesitation was seen or heard of when you confirmed your order, along with the special request. 

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anonymous asked:

Hi I have a prompt :) a few years after the war aelin finds out she's pregnant and Rowan freaks out because of lyria when she tells him but happy ending

Aelin paced like a restless Ghost Leopard in front of the fireplace in her bedroom.  She was wearing down the rug that laid before it–if she kept this up the colors weaved in it would soon fade–but the last thing on her mind was the rutting carpet.  Teeth worrying her bottom lip, Aelin tried to calm her ever spiking nerves.  She knew, logically, that this was a happy thing.  Something she and Rowan–Hell, the entirety of Terrasen–would soon be looking forward to, but right now it felt more like she was carrying a cracked urn of hellfire instead of a child.

Stopping mid step, the Queen of Terrasen placed her hands flat against her belly and sucked in a shaky breath.  She remembered what happened last time Rowan thought she was pregnant, years and years ago on a ship bond towards their doom.  He hadn’t taken it well.  Once the idea crossed his mind, the Fae male had turned a deathly pale–paler, even, than when he was bleeding out from an arrow wound shot by the Ironteeth witch, Asterin–and shifted into his animal form to fly around the ship for several hours.  Aelin’s fists tightened, the fabric of her dress getting caught within her clutch, as another memory came to the forefront of her mind.  Later that day, when Rowan had regained control of himself and returned to his Fae form, he’d asked if she was pregnant. She told him no, she wasn’t, but she wasn’t using any contraceptives, either. Aelin remembered the sigh of relief that passed his lips when she’d told him she wasn’t pregnant, and she remembered the tension that seized his body when she explained that she wasn’t trying to prevent it, either.

Her face felt cold–frozen.  She understood Rowan’s fear.  Lyria, the woman he’d loved so completely that he’s thought they were mates, had been pregnant when she’d been killed.  Rowan still felt guilty about leaving her alone on their mountain, even though all the guilt belonged to Maeve.  Rutting Mave, Aelin cursed.  May she burn in hell for the rest of eternity.  But just because Aelin knew where the blame truly lay, that didn’t alleviate Rowan’s guilt.  Sometimes Aelin wondered if it didn’t make it worse, since Rowan had served Maeve faithfully for centuries after Lyria’s death.  The Queen of Terrasen didn’t know how deep that guilt cut, thought.  Would Rowan accept their child?  Or constantly be reminded of what he’d lost?  Aelin couldn’t bare the thought of causing her mate, her husband, any pain.  But this child … this child was hers.  It was something new, something pure and innocent and untouched by the cruel world she had been forged in.  It wasn’t even a bump in her belly yet and already she knew she would move heaven and earth to protect it.  Trembling, Aelin felt trapped.  Stuck between a rock and a hard place.  

“Fireheart,” Rowan’s soft voice cut through her dark thoughts.  He stood before her, hands cupping her cheeks and thumbs tenderly brushing away her fallen tears.  She hadn’t even realized she’d started to cry.  Green eyes stared deeply into hers, concern rolling off the owner in waves.  “Aelin, what is it?  What’s happened?”  His eyes darted up and down her figure, trying to find the problem so he could solve it.  He knew she wasn’t injured–their carranam bound would’ve alerted him if otherwise–so he assumed she’d received some bad news.  

Choking on a sob–or maybe it was just a broken laugh–Aelin shook her head.  She needed to tell him.  He deserved to know what was growing inside of her.  She couldn’t hide it forever.  She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, Queen of Terrasen, Vanquisher of Erawan, and she would not be afraid. 

“I’m pregnant,” her voice was barely above a whisper, but she knew he could hear her.  

Jerking back as if he’d been struck, Rowan released Aelin’s face and back peddled in a daze until the backs of his legs hit their bed.  Falling onto his behind, Rowan blankly stared at Aelin.  Pulling tighter at the fabric stretched across her stomach, making it twist and wrinkle and tear in a few places, the Heir of Fire bit down on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.  She whimpered and her knees shook.  Breaths coming in short and quick, Aelin worried she had ruined everything.  That she had lost Rowan forever.  He still sat before her, without light in his eyes and his mouth slightly ajar, but he was lost to her.  Lost to his past.  She knew he was reliving the worst moment he’d ever experienced in his entire life.  And it was killing her to see him this way.

“Rowan,” she whimpered, feeling helpless.  

Rowan blinked.  Just once, and just like that he was back.  His green eyes began to shine with unshed tears and he let out a few long, laugh-like breaths.  Lips wobbling into a smile, he slid off the bed and fell down to his knees.  Shuffling closer, Rowan reached out and gently pried her fingers open.  The fabric she’d been clutching was torn and ruined, but neither cared.  Carefully, so carefully as if she’d somehow been turned to glass, Rowan placed his hands on her hips and rested his forehead against her belly, taking in a deep breath.  He was scenting her, seeing if he could detect their child’s scent within her.  Soft pressure touched her stomach where he placed kiss after kiss.  Soon his shoulder began to tremble and shake.  Aelin placed her hands on them to ground him.  

“Thank you,” he croaked, his voice thick and breaking from emotion.  “Thank you Aelin, my fireheart.”

Carding her fingers through his white hair, Aelin stared down at him through blurry, teary eyes and smiled.  She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, Queen of Terrasen, Vanquisher of Erawan, and expecting mother.  And with Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius by her side, she would never be afraid again.            

Someone to Stay - AU

Previous chapters

Chapter 6

“It’s f-f-freezing!” Claire stuttered, holding herself tight inside her fluffy down coat.

“Aye, ‘tis.” Jamie smiled, hugging Claire close. “But beautiful.” Wrapped as they were in thick scarves and warm hats, no one looked twice at the couple—particularly at Jamie, who usually stood out like a sore thumb.

Frost and snow hung thick on the branches, the pathways cleared of ice. Holiday decorations were up, and everything was ablaze with twinkle lights. The Christmas markets were brimming with Santas, snowmen, and candy cane crafts.

Hyde Park Winter Wonderland teemed with Londoners and tourists. They walked hand in hand—or mitten in glove—swinging, giddy with the knowledge of each other. It was only the last week of November, but Christmas was already on display.

“Christmas with Uncle Lamb wasn’t always traditional,” Claire said, gazing in true wonder at the holiday explosion around her. “I’ve lived here forever and I’d never been to this market.”

“At Lallybroch, we usually do Hogmanay – sort of a New Year’s celebration.” Jamie stood behind Claire, holding her close, as they both admired a Christmas village miniature. “Verra traditional.”

*** 

“Thank you Duke’s! Good night!” 

The Clan trooped offstage, glistening with the sweat of their efforts and the heat of the spotlights. Jamie had found Claire in the wings.

“Jamie, that was amazing!” Claire exclaimed, impulsively throwing her arms around his broad shoulders clad in his signature jacket. Jamie, heat radiating like a furnace, grabber her by the waist and swung her around.

“Did ye like it?” he whispered, words muffled by her hair.

It was easier this way, to tell him without having to look into the sapphire depths. “Of course I did! I can’t believe you would—that anyone would write a song. For me.”

*** 

“It was my favorite place, whenever my uncle brought us to the city. Frank’s job as historian would occasionally bring him here too, but mostly libraries,” Claire said lightly.

They climbed the steps to the entrance of the British Museum, arms linked. The lighting threw the shadows of the columns onto the square, at the late hour.

“I think my parents brought me here when I was a bairn. Jenny and I, we were young.”

“Do you have more siblings?” 

“Nay. My mother, Ellen, she died when I was twelve. And my newborn brother with her.” Jamie swallowed hard, and shook his head at the memory. “My father followed when I was 23, from a stroke.” He ran his hands through his fiery thatch. “His name was Brian.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She squeezed his arm in sympathy, knowing in their shared experiences that no more words were necessary between them.

Jamie got their passes, smiling widely for the museum employee who recognized him. He paused to grab a map of the galleries, but Claire immediately headed to the left for the elevators. “Come on!”

“We only have an hour! Fridays close at 8:30. What would ye like to see, Sassenach?” Besides Lady Jane, now she had new nicknames.

“Follow me!” She grinned and stepped inside the elevator; pushing the button for the third floor, Jamie slipped in next to her.

“What is it, mo nighean donn?” He nuzzled her neck briefly and she pulled away, tickled.

“The Roman Empire. Then the Greek rooms. They were remarkable healers, for their time.”

*** 

“Of course it was fer ye! Who else, mo nighean donn?” Jamie’s smile was blinding; he felt breathless from the high of the performance and the feel of Claire in his arms.

“You’ve called me that before. What does it mean?” 

“Come wi’ me.” Jamie looked around, and seeing no one, took Claire’s hand and led her towards the back exit.

They stepped out into the cold London night, their breath visible in the light from a single halogen lamp above the door. They found themselves in an alley that reeked of refuse, but Claire scarcely noticed. Sliding his arms around her again, Jamie’s fingers traced patterns on the back of her jacket. Claire wished it was her skin, and felt her cheeks flame again.

*** 

“Is it Chinese?” 

“I think they call it Mandarin.”

“So the sword was stolen.”

“Yes. Shhh.” Claire pulled a packet of Cadbury English toffee from her purse and shoved it into Jamie’s hands. “Watch the movie.” The tiny art-house theater was almost empty, but she knew how annoying they were being.

Jamie opened the bag and took a piece, offering another to Claire. She ate it absent-mindedly, focused on the film. The assassin was revealed when she felt a hand resting lightly on her knee.

Claire looked down, then at Jamie; his expression was perfectly neutral, eyes on the screen. She crossed her right leg over the left, and saw Jamie’s mouth twitch.

“Watch the movie yerself, Sassenach. Ye’ll miss the subtitles.”

“Can’t think you’re paying much attention either.” She took Jamie’s hand in her own, twining her fingers with his.

*** 

“I thought of the phrase from the moment I saw ye. Mo nighean donn means ‘my brown-haired lass’ in the Gaelic.” 

“Brown is rather dull, I’ve always thought.” Claire’s heart pounded disjointedly; she was sure he would be able to hear it if he moved any closer. 

“Not at all. There’s flecks of dark gold and a bit of red too, like water ruffles over a rock in a stream.” Jamie tangled a hand in the unruly curls. Claire closed her eyes, enjoying the gentle touch. 

She reached up and tentatively fingered the wavy locks, vivid fire in the light. There was amber and roan, orange and auburn. She had never seen anything like it. 

“Claire,” Jamie whispered, bringing his forehead against hers.

*** 

“’Tis only 5 days ‘til Christmas, Claire. I’d like to ask ye to come to Lallybroch with me.” Jamie’s eyes were eager, hopeful.

“Scotland? Really?” Claire put down her fork, wiping her mouth with the napkin.

“Where we first met.” The smile he gave her was only hers. She blushed and sipped her wine.

“I’d have to work overtime, to ask for some days off. Also—” she paused shyly. 

“What is it?” Jamie took her hand encouragingly. 

“I’d like to turn in applications for medical school in January. If I get accepted, then I’ll have to start studying again.”

“That’s wonderful, Sassenach! I’m so proud of ye!” Jamie kissed her hand, holding it tightly. He signaled the waiter for another bottle.

“It will mean I will probably see less of you than I do now.” Claire sighed.

Jamie nodded. “We start recording a new album in the New Year as well. In Edinburgh, the label’s recording studio.” He poured out another glass, and clinked it against Claire’s. “But we’ll talk every day, mo nighean donn. I promise.” He took her hand again. “We’ll both be busy, and time will fly by.” 

A quiet but distinct noise caught their attention. The click and whirr of a camera from a corner of the restaurant. Claire turned casually, and spotted the culprit a few tables away.

“I think they’re photographing us, Jamie.” Claire looked down and tried to extricate her hand from his.

“I dinna care. We’re not doing anything wrong.” Jamie leaned in and gave each of her knuckles a soft kiss. “On the contrary.”

“And we’re doing what, exactly?” Claire smiled, tapping his foot under the table with her heels.

“I’m having dinner. On a date. With my girlfriend.” Jamie smiled. “I want the whole world to know.”

***

Jamie’s lips brushed softly against hers, warm and gentle. He pressed a hand hesitantly against her back to bring her closer.

Claire rose on her toes, her arms around him in response. He tasted of salt and whiskey and promises and she wanted it all.

“Your heart is worth it,” Jamie murmured in the dark.

shortiemcbealle  asked:

Not an ask but just a bit of kudos, I am really diggin "Tales from the Past". I'm very curious to see if Claire thinks it all a big coincidence and how Uncle Lamb will react to all of the info they find? Thank you for the lovely writing.

Tales From the Past | Part I, Part II

Scotland was unlike anything I had ever seen before.  The land was an unbelievable shade of green and more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. The image I had of my witch and whisky maker family fit perfectly within this landscape. The rolling hills leading to towering mountains, and the glistening lakes reflecting the scenery around them gave the air of magic and endless possibilities. The deeper into the Highlands we travelled, the easier it was to see how the Scots, and my Scots in particular, transitioned and settled in the mountains of North Carolina. There was a familiarity between the two, but whereas Scotland felt old and full of legends, the North Carolinian mountains had an air of youthful mystery in comparison.

“Are we there yet, Uncle?” I asked as yet another town flashed beyond the car windows.

“Not yet my dear. We’ll be there in no time at all, just enjoy the scenery. Maybe you could come up with your own legend by the time we get to our destination!” He cheered then went back to humming a nameless tune.

I sighed and looked longingly out the window. I just wanted to be there, I wanted to see their home and find out more. “Are we going to Broch Morda and Lallybroch?” I asked not five seconds later.

“No, Claire.” Uncle Lamb said with authority. “We’re headed to a town called Inverness. My correspondent who can trace their lineage back to Lallybroch itself lives there. She’s more than willing to tell her family stories and that of her husband’s as well.”

“Fine.” I grumbled, “I still wish we were going straight to Lallybroch. Something is pulling me in that direction, we need to go there.”

“Patience my dear, we will get there, just after we’ve heard what these Murray’s have to say.” Lamb winked.

Inverness was beautiful, tucked away at the top of Loch Ness I could see the appeal and history all around, but I was restless.

“How long do we have to be here?”

“Long enough,” He laughed guiding me towards the door. “I thought you wanted to hear the legends?”

I groaned, “I do but I want to go see Lallybroch more!”

“Let’s see what they have to say first. We’ll need their story to help further our investigation, despite your curious insistence!” Uncle Lamb cut me off before I could speak further.

“Fine,” I murmured into my arm that rested on the door. My excitement crushed for a moment.

The countryside blurred by until the faintest idea of a town sprung up in spires and stone.

“Inverness?” I asked looking to at Uncle Lamb. He grinned and nodded, weaving our way through the streets to the tea room where the mysterious Murray’s awaited our arrival.

“Here we are, m’dear!” Lamb exclaimed throwing the car door open. “Would you get my satchel from the boot? We may need to take photographs and extra pens and paper! You never know what all they’ll have or have to say!”

His excitement was contagious and I felt my own lift to a nervous bubble. I still longed to see the fabled home, but deep down I knew I needed to hear what the Murray’s had to say.

“Are you Quentin Lambert?” A tall and lanky man with jet black hair and gray eyes asked as he approached our car.

“That I am! You must be Alexander Murray,” Lamb greeted, clasping the man’s hand.

Mr. Murray chuckled and nodded. “Aye, and this is my sister Jennifer.” He gestured to short girl with the same black hair and gray eyes.

“We’ve already got a kettle on, please join us inside.” Her smile was kind, but wary.

“Claire! Don’t forget the books!” Uncle Lamb called from over his shoulder absentmindedly as he entered the quaint stone building.

I took a moment to breathe in my surroundings. The bustle of people and their cars contrasting against the ancient stone buildings. If I closed my eyes and blocked out the modern sounds I could believe I was there when it all began. I could feel the clean Scottish air as it wrapped itself around me and those on the streets, smell the the roasting meats from taverns and hearth fires as well as fresh bannocks and bread, and I could imagine the sounds of wagon wheels and horse’s hooves on cobble and splattering mud. My imagination took me to a world where I could imagine my whisky making Scot walking down the street, and with a swish of a kilt he was gone.

“Miss Beauchamp?” I jumped, startled, my eyes flying open as the pack fell to the street. “Och, sorry. I dinna mean to give ye such a fright. Yer uncle was asking for ye. I came to fetch ye inside.”

My cheeks reddened from getting caught in my fantasy. The real world felt foreign and distant compared to where my mind had just held me. I slowly retrieved Uncle Lamb’s bag and followed Jennifer Murray inside.

“Claire! Claire! There you are, what kept you? No matter, you really must hear what young Mr. Murray has told me about his family! There was a tale that originated from a great uncle of sorts, and that very uncle could be the James Fraser we are striving to find! But I’m very much more fascinated in this enthralling tale of a cave, espionage and freedom! Please, come sit. Sit and listen!” Lamb managed to get all of this out in a single breath, his face red, but eyes alight with excitement. I noticed his hands were already ink-stained and smudged, his left worst of all.  

“Breathe Uncle.” I said, laying a hand to his shoulder. “I’m sure Mr. Murray doesn’t wish to recount the tale again.”

“I dinna mind at all! Would ye like some tea before I start?” Alexander Murray gestured to the barely touched tray of tea and shortbread.

“Yes, thankyou.” I replied, pouring my own cup and grabbing a biscuit.

“As I was telling your very enthusiastic Uncle, my family has many tales and legends as does most here in the highlands. But one, we can go so far to say, is one of the more famous ones.” he said lowering his voice with a wink. “This one legend was said to be the Laird of Broch Tuarach during the uprising of Prince Tearlach in 1745. It’s said that the Laird was spared at the battle of Culloden or most likely escaped the clutches of the British and fled back to his homeland. His hair was a fiery red, easily spotted and gave him little chances to hide. My–” he paused and then gestured to his sister, “–our great-great-great grandmother was this Laird’s sister. She hid him in a priest hole that her recently dead sister-in-law had told her to build. You see the Laird’s wife was a Sassenach and a faerie.

“The folk in the highlands were wary of her and her healing abilities, even though the laird loved her more than life. She was among those caught in the crossfire of Culloden. The Laird being so distraught had nearly given up the will to live and when he was well enough to stand, decided to hide in the hillside to better protect his family.”

“Och! You’re tellin it wrong Sawny!” Jennifer interrupted.

“Och aye? Am I? Weel why dinna you tell it then and let me save my voice!” he said and smugly crossed his arms and legs into a relaxed position.

“I will then!” She settled herself deep into her chair.

“As my brother said, our great-great-great grandmother was the sister to the Laird who became legend, and it is from her that we get our story. Before the days of Culloden and the blackened soul of Prince Tearlach set this bonnie nation into strife, the Murray’s and Fraser’s lived peacefully on the estate. The young Laird had taken a faerie to wife, but all that knew her well enough said she was kinder than of any fae, and that she loved the Laird and his family to the ends of time. It was when she caught a vision of great strife and suffering for her beloved’s people, she told her good sister to plant crops that would yield a great amount, and prepare hidden storages including a priest’s hole under the kitchen cellar. The fae and her husband rushed out to protect the people and try to stop the horror she had seen from coming to fruition.

“They had earned the trust of Prince Tearlach, and made their way into his inner council. Night after night, day after day, the Laird tried to convince the Prince of his doomed cause, but to no avail. The horror still approached and overcame the people of this good nation. Killing thousands, destroying homes and the highland culture at it’s roots. The faerie wife, so distraught at the destruction of her adopted home, begged for her people to save the Scots, to turn back time and not let it happen, but they didna answer. Instead, it’s said she curled up on a faerie hill just outside Inverness and died of a broken heart. Unable to save her beloved nor her new people, and the old ones wouldnae have her back.

“However, the Laird did survive! He made his way home to Broch Tuarach where his sister tended to his physical wounds, but nothing could take away the pain he felt at the death of his wife. He hid for months in the priest’s hole, listening to raid after raid from the British soldiers and he could have it no more. He was too much of a danger to his family, and he couldna bear to lose another part of his heart. One night, he hid himself deep into the caves of the hills that surrounded his property with naught but a dun bonnet to his name. Just far enough that he would pose no danger, but close enough that if he was needed, he could be called upon. For seven years he hid by himself in the caves, coming out at night, clad in brown from head to toe, hiding the flames of his hair under bonnet and cloak of night to deliver fresh meat of his kills to his people and family.

“The Laird’s most faithful servant would risk his life week after week to bring the Laird fresh ale, clothes, and news of the town and of his family when the laird could not make his way down the mountain. On a day, not unlike today, where the sun shone high and the temperature mild, the servant raced up the hill bringing his lairdship fresh supplies, only to be stopped by a wicked cluster of British soldiers. They accused the lad of stealing and chopped his hand off for his crimes, then stole the Laird’s supplies for their own gain. Outraged the Laird tended the lad as best he could in the cave before taking him to the estate for proper healing. It was then the Laird decided that his time in the caves were at an end. He had to stand, he needed to fight the cruelty and oppression being imposed on his people.

“Seven years since the uprising, and there was still a traitor’s reward for the Laird. The laird asked his brother-in-law to turn himself in, grab the stirling reward and feed the family and people he could no longer protect.”

Jennifer stood up and went to the window. I blinked trying to come back to the world around me. The tale she had spun so vivid in my mind, like that was the true reality and not this tea parlour.

“What happened to him? The Laird?” I asked, desperate to hear more.

She turned, the light a halo around her silhouette, “The Dun Bonnet Laird went to prison to save his family. If you go back to our family’s ancestral home and speak to the locals they may tell you of him in a different way, the story altering from family to family. But one thing is for sure, they say on the old fire feasts, ye can see the Dun Bonnet standing at the mouth of his cave, keeping his vigil for all who are under his protection.”

behindthebook  asked:

You're amazing. I've literally set up my notifications so that is get notified when you post! I just love reading your imagines. If you have the time, I know you must be really busy but can you do one in which Betty gets hit because she was involved in a fight or something and Jughead gets really, really mad? And then he takes care of her bruise or something? It'll be really cute especially because you write so well and stay true to the characters :)

Thankyou for giving me such amazing prompts, I wouldn’t be able to write at all if it wasn’t for you guys!

***

Everyone knew Jughead didn’t work out, he didn’t exercise, there was never any leisurely jogging going on in his life.

So too see him sprinting down the halls of riverdale, faster than the most successful cross country star, was a surprise to say the least.

Veronica lodge was hot on his tail, looking pissed off and absolutely lethal.

Jughead couldn’t think, he could hardly even see straight, his brain just a flurry of thoughts.

Ronnie had burst into the blue and gold office, explaining Betty had gotten hurt, she was bleeding, he didn’t hesitate before he was out the door and running to the girls locker room.

He vaguely heard Veronica behind him

“She was just being Betty, defending someone else, and this jock from central high just reared back and punched her in the face. His buddies took him away, but I think they’re still hanging on riverdale grounds.”

Finally reaching the locker room doors, he slammed them open, eyes scanning before landing on the beautiful blonde who had a tissue held to her face by Cheryl blossom, as Kevin filled up an ice pack. Hey eyes caught his instantly and she gently pushed Cheryl’s hand away, nose red and a little bloody.

“Jughead. I’m okay. I promise, I’m okay.”

She knew him too well, she knew he was about to fly off the handle.

He was by her side now, taking the ice pack from Kevin with a nod and placing it on her swelling cheek.

“What happened?” He said softly

Almost instantly, the tears she had been holding back began to well up in her eyes

“I was just leaving cheerleading practice when I noticed the central high jerks were hanging out by our bleachers, and they were surrounding dilton Doiley. I couldn’t just let them bully him around like that, so I went and asked them to leave him alone and they turned on me. Trying to grab me and touch me, so I kicked one of them in the knee. He got so angry he just punched me in the face.” She sniffled

Jughead pushed a strand of honey blonde hair away from her watery eyes, removing the ice pack for a second so he could cup her cheeks gently.

Suddenly Kevin was on the other side of Betty

“What she forgot to mention was that she pretty much attacked the guy after he hit her. That guy is gonna be nursing a pretty bad black eye, to say the least.”

She giggled slightly, leaning against Jughead as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Jughead laughed “they should know never to mess with Betty Cooper when she’s on a rampage.”

She looked up at him smiling.

“And don’t forget it.”

He smiled brushing his hand against her swollen cheek “if they’re still out there, you know I have to do something, I can’t let them get away with hurting you. No matter how much damage you may have done, it’s nothing compared to what I’ll do.”

She nodded, smiling softly

“I know, I know. Defending my honor and all that.” She rolled her eyes teasingly.

He smirked, puffing his chest out

“Damn right defending your honor!”

She giggled, rolling her eyes before he shifted the both of them completely forgetting about the other people in the locker room

“I was scared. Ronnie told me you were hurt, you got into a fight with some guys. I didn’t know what to think. I don’t ever wanna feel that way again. The thought of you being knocked out somewhere, surrounded by those dicks.” He shuddered

Betty placed a hand to his cheek

“I’m okay juggie. I’m sorry.”

He sighed, closing his eyes.

“Just.. next time you wanna save the world, come and get me. I can be the robin to your Batman. I just wanna be there okay?” He smiled nervously

Betty placed a tiny kiss to his lips

“You got it robin.”

anonymous asked:

What do you think would happen if Tom not Jake ended up leading the Animorphs?

  • Tom’s only at the arcade in the first place because he’s looking for Jake.  He finds Marco instead, and the two of them are talking—Marco’s noticed it too, how Jake never seems to be around these days—when Tobias jumps in to tell them that Jake’s been spending all his spare time at the Sharing lately.  Tom spots Rachel and Cassie next; at sixteen he’s trying responsibility on for size and so he announces that he’s getting them all home safe whether they like it or not.
  • Rachel protests, because of course she does, but Tom’s also the closest thing she has to an older brother and so when he puts his foot down she gives in.  She’s not happy about it, though, and she shows him that by charging off into the shortcut through the construction site and leaving the others to chase after. 
  • The day after everything happens, Tom snaps at the others not to tell their parents, not to morph, not to do anything at all until he figures out what they should do next.  
    • Cassie and Tobias try morphing anyway.  Rachel starts researching ways to fight off an alien invasion.  
    • Marco invites himself over to talk to Jake, who is strangely insistent on asking around about whether any of his friends believe those rumors about a UFO in the construction site last night. 
  • “Your brother’s one of them,” Marco tells Tom.  The ensuing shouting match lasts almost half an hour, only ending when they both conclude the only thing for it is to go and rescue him.  
  • Tom’s not Jake.  He doesn’t know a lost cause when he sees it.  He keeps right on fighting, claws bloody, bones breaking, while the others make a messy retreat.  As Jake watches from the cages, he catches a dracon beam to the head and crumples in a heap of fur next to the infestation pier.  
  • This time around, it’s Marco who becomes the first one to drag them up by the bootstraps.  “There are still three of us left,” he says, “four if you count Bird Boy, although I’m not sure how much help he’ll be.  And Jake’s my best friend.  I can’t leave him in that hell.”  
    • This time around, Cassie becomes the first to agree.  It’s Jake.  He means something to her that no one else ever has.  
    • Rachel’s not far behind.  It’s Jake.  They spent their whole childhood doing stupid dares together, and this one seems like the biggest dare of all.
    • Tobias agrees, but not for love.  For revenge.  He wants to avenge Tom, who was kind to him despite not knowing him from Adam.  He wants to avenge Elfangor, who died in order to give them a chance and who told him a million things he’d never known in those last five minutes of life.  He wants to avenge that unnamed voice from his dreams, the one that haunts him still even though Marco insisted and they all agreed that the risk of a rescue attempt was too big to take.
  • Two months later, Marco tells the Ellimist, “Yeah, we want to leave with our families.  Take us away,” and without Rachel he’d never figure out why the Ellimist doesn’t listen.
  • Eighteen days after that, Marco says, “I don’t care what you think.”  He takes the Pemalite crystal and reprograms Erek so that Erek will be forced to help them.  Erek infects himself with a computer virus that corrupts all his files; two hours later he’s a lifeless pile of circuitry on the ground.  
  • Forty-one days later, Marco says, “We should just morph Joe Bob Finestre, save ourselves some time,” and refuses to listen to any contradictions.
  • One week after that, Marco says, “If we drop the instant oatmeal into the water main, everyone will have to drink it,” and doesn’t foresee the consequences.  
  • Six months after that, Marco says, “I’m sorry” just before he shoots David in the head.  
  • Two weeks and four days later, Marco waits until he sees Jake leave the yeerk pool, and then he says, “Let’s blow it up.”  
    • Cassie quits the team on the spot.  Tobias tries to talk him out of it, but doesn’t succeed.  
    • Four thousand three hundred human hosts die when the modified nuke Marco stole from Peter’s lab drops into the yeerk pool, because he doesn’t want to leave any chance of too many slugs escaping.  Visser One’s human body is one of them; Marco will only find this out several hours too late.
  • Three days later, Marco and Rachel steal a Blade ship.  They don’t know how to fly it, but that’s a moot point, because they get the guns working. 
    • They incinerate the Pool ship, along with 20,000 yeerks and 15,000 hosts on board, and then turn to fire on the yeerk encampments on the ground.  The taxxons are annihilated, the hork-bajir-controllers as well.  Marco’s gotten used to the idea of killing humans, just as long as it’s no one he knows.
    • Tobias is outside the ship, unwilling to endorse this mission, unable to stay away.  He gets caught in the crossfire between the Bug fighters and Blade ship, spiraling to the ground, and Rachel loses her mind.  
    • She and Marco are so busy trying to kill each other, fueled by grief and rage and bloodlust and terror, that at first they don’t even realize they’ve won.
  • Three days after that, Jake is free.  He doesn’t talk to Marco—neither do Peter or Cassie or Rachel—but Marco figures that’s okay, because nowadays he has plenty of fans.  Maybe the andalites are pretty strict in their control of the U.N., and maybe it sucks that humans aren’t allowed off the planet anymore, but Marco won the war.  And isn’t that the whole point of war, winning?  
Where’s My Love - Stiles Stilinski

listen to the song here ( I REALLY RECOMMEND THIS ONE GUYZ )

Cold bones

Yeah that’s my love

She hides away like a ghost

“You can’t catch me! You can’t catch me!” You sing songed, running all over the Stilinski’s back yard.

Your families were neighbors, and both you and Stiles were six, so you played together every day.  It was a fast and easy friendship to make.

“No fair! You’re faster than me!” The boy with messy hair panted.  You giggled, spinning around, your pigtails flying.  

“Come on Mitchy!”

“I said I wanna be Stiles!” You shook your head, running over to him and jumping onto his back.  He caught you with ease, and began running around again.  It was amazing how much energy kids could have.

“Well everyone else can call you Stiles, because I’m the only one who gets to know your real name” You said cheekily.

“Okay! It’ll be a special thing.  I’ll call you… uh… y/n/n!” You giggled at the silliness and nodded.

“Okay deal!” You agreed.

Ooh, does she know that we bleed the same?

Don’t wanna cry but I break that way

“It’s an emergency Stiles!” You whined through your bedroom door.  He stood in the hall on the other side.

“Is it? Because last time you told me something was an emergency, you were distracting me and you took my best pokemon card and my Mets hat!” he said back.  

“Please” You begged.

“Ugh” You heard him stomp his foot on the floor.  “Fine.  But only because somehow your puppy eyes work through the door” He said, and opened it.  “I don’t know how you-” Stiles stopped when he saw you, jaw dropping open at the sight.

Tonight was your first school dance, you were seventh graders.  It was low key, but still a milestone.  And… you’d never dressed up before.  Not even a skirt.  SO when Stiles saw you in a cream colored dress with a simple brown belt, his eyes had noticeably widened.

“Oh my god is it that bad?” Tears welled in your eyes and Stiles quickly shook his head, crossing his room to you.

“No no, it’s great, it’s um, it’s pretty” He’d never said anything that made him feel so awkward.  But he was telling the truth.  In fact he wanted to tell you that you looked beautiful, but he didn’t want to cross a line.  You looked down at your outfit unsurely, a few tears slipping from your eyes.  “No don’t cry y/n, don’t cry” He walked behind you, and zipped up the last two  inches, because you couldn’t reach it and gave up.  “I mean it you look really pretty, like, princess pretty”

“Thanks Mitchy” You mumbled, finally glancing up and taking in his button down and nice pants.  He even had a tie.  You smiled and grabbed onto his hand.  “Come on, be my prince charming for the night”

God his heart was like thunder in his chest.

Cold sheets, but where’s my love?

I am searching high, I’m searching low

In the night ooh

He was lying in bed, trying not to cry, if he was being honest.  But every time he looked over, there was that picture frame of him and y/n at the carnival.  A selfie he’d taken when they got to the top of the ferris wheel.  She had her arms wrapped loosely around his neck.  Her cheek was resting on his shoulder, his Mets cap on her head and his scarf tied around her neck.  She was smiling big at the camera.  He knew that she had the same frame next to her bed as well, but he also knew she wasn’t looking at it right now.

No, at this moment she was out on a date with Jackson Whittemore.  Yeah.  Jackass Whittemore of all people.  Stiles had been trying to come to terms of it, they were halfway through sophomore year and he’d asked her out the third week of school.  Stiles was there, and he just sat and watched her giddy answer of a yes.

He groaned, rolling over in bed, and slamming his pillow on top of the back of his head.  He begged for suffocation.

Five minutes later there was knocking on his door.

“Go away Dad, I’m not in the mood” More knocks.  Stiles groaned and got up, crossing the room and whipping it open.  “Dad I said-” He froze upon seeing you.  Quickly he wiped his face to hide that he’d been crying earlier.  Not very manly to cry.

“Your Dad let me in” You whispered.  He stepped aside, and you slowly walked into his room.

“I thought that uh.. I thought tonight you-”

“Jackson was fucking with Makayla” You said bluntly, but quietly as you pretended to admire the little things on his desk.  Though you’d been there millions of times before.  Stiles sat on the end of his bed, your back to him.

“He did?” He all but growled out.

“Don’t go picking a fight” You scolded immediately.  “But yep” You popped the p.  “Screwing her since we’ve been dating, probably still is” You shrugged, and walked around to the other side of the room.  Your eyes landed on his bedside table.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head, picking up the familiar picture frame.  You smiled at it, letting your fingers run over the glass gently.  You missed those days.  Stiles flopped back on the bed, and you walked back towards the door, turning off the lights and shutting the door..  “Are you going home?” Stiles asked.  You shrugged your jacket off, shaking your head again.  You kicked off your shoes, and made a pile of them and your coat by the door.  He watched as you crawled into his bed.

“I wanna stay here” You said, and your voice cracked.  Stiles reached out for you instantly, pulling you against him and cradling you.

“I’m so sorry y/n” He whispered as you cried silently into his shirt.

“I thought I loved him” You admitted, and a pang of hurt tapped into his heart.  “I guess I really am that typical teenage girl” You whispered.

“No… no y/n you’re so much more than that” He told you.  “You’re beautiful, and smart, and you’re going to achieve so much in your life, and Jackson will whither away with his herpes and probably end up dead in a ditch somewhere- not that Scott and I will have anything to do with that” You laughed quietly into his shirt, and it made Stiles smile.

“Well… maybe Scott can use some werewolf powers and give him a little scare…” You said, and Stiles laughed.  A few minutes of silence passed.  Stiles hand both arms wound around you, and you had your hands pressed against his chest, head resting on top of them.

“y/n I care so much about you… more than you know” He told you.  You didn’t respond.  “y/n?” No response.  The softest of snores left your lips, and Stiles bit the inside of his cheek.

Maybe the universe was telling him that you weren’t meant to know the truth.

I’ve got a fear

Oh in my blood

She was carried up

Into the clouds

High above ooh

You were giggling when your arms shot out for the small trash bucket, and you began hacking into it.

“Shh… Shh” He cooed, rubbing your back, and readjusting the blanket he had previously wrapped around you.

“I’m sorry I’m not much fun for movie night tonight” You sniffled.

So far your junior year was going alright.  It had just started, and there was no supernatural dilemma, and you and Stiles were back to being strong again.  Maybe… maybe too strong? Lately every time the boy looked at you or touched you, your heart would flutter and you knew what that meant.  But it confused you.  Stiles was your best friend, you couldn’t fall for him.  

Could you?

“It’s okay, we don’t have to watch anything y/n you’ve been sick all week maybe you should lay down”

“No I don’t want to get in your bed then you’ll get sick”

“Trust me you’ve already gotten me sick I’m sure” He replied, turning on the space heater and dragging it over to where you sat on the floor. He’d moved all the furniture in the living room out of the way so you could just be under a mountain of blankets and watched movies.  It had gone great for the first fifteen minutes, but then you puked into the popcorn bowl.

“I’m sorry Stiles, I’m ruining your night” You frowned, and warmed your freezing hands up by the heater.  He shook his head, smiling softly and taking your hands between his, rubbing them together to generate more heat.

“Don’t be sorry, I’m just glad you’re here” You buried yourself more in the blanket so he couldn’t see your blush.  “And you’re not dying.  That’s what would ruin movie night.  But it’s just the flu” Stiles chuckled. “You want something to drink maybe? Orange juice? Hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate sounds nice” You said with a big sweet smile that asked him silently to go make it for you.  He nodded, and stood up, ruffling your hair before heading into the kitchen.  The second h was gone, you whipped out your phone.

To Lydia: SOS CODE RED

To y/n: shit i knew you were in love with him.  Alli owes me twenty and Kye owes me ten

If you bleed I’ll bleed the same

If you’re scared, I’m on my way

A shit storm of pain had come to you in a hurricane of long tan legs, and eight years experience of being a coyote.

It had been two months since you lost Allison, a girl you’d grown to become quite close with, almost as close as Lydia.  Lydia being your closest girl friend.  So when she died, you mourned just as much as the rest of them.  Stiles had seen you cry, but never that much.  He’d comforted you every second of the day for a solid three weeks.  You often spent the night wrapped up in his arms and blankets, sobbing as he cooed soft things to you and stroked your hair.

And it was time.  You knew it was time.  It was time for you to take control of your feelings, and tell him how you really felt.  That every second you’re around him, you want it to last forever.  That every time he spoke, you wanted to reach across the table and kiss him.  That when you rode next to him in the Jeep, you wanted to take his hand and intertwine your fingers together.  That every time he touched you, sparks ignited and danced along your skin.  That every time he looked at you, you just wanted to scream I love you.

You’d never power walked so quickly through the school hall.  As soon as Scott told you that he’d seen Stiles go into the chem lab, you’d spun around and made your way to the classroom.  It was the end of the day, every other student in the building was walking out towards the parking lot, eager to get home.  But not you.

You were a girl on a mission.  You neared the door, and quickly pulled out your phone to check your makeup.  Flawless, you heard Lydia say in your head.  Hell, you were even so confident that you winked at your reflection.  This.  Was.  It.

You smiled big and opened the door.

If you could go back in time, and change one thing, this would be it.  Because walking in on Stiles and Malia making out in the empty classroom, crushed everything you had left in you.  It took your happiness, your confidence, your dignity.  You felt utterly stupid.

Just as Stiles had caught your eye, you turned away and legitimately ran through the halls, suddenly you felt like you couldn’t get away fast enough.

Mission aborted.

Did you run away, did you run away

I don’t need to know

But if you ran away

If you ran away come back home

“Hey y/n, it’s Stiles again.  I’m not really sure if you’re ignoring me or not, I’ve called you twelve times now, but if you are please call me back I want to fix it… uh… I’ll see you later and I hope you’re alright” You closed your eyes tight, not wanting to hear these voicemails anymore.

You shut off your phone, tossing it onto your bed.

Two days ago, you walked in on Malia kissing the fuck out of Stiles.  She had her hands in his hair, hell, you could see her tongue.

Your eyes closed again, and you rubbed away your tears with the palms of your hands.  You hadn’t been back to school since it happened.  How could you? Show your face after complete shame? Not to mention how devastated you felt.  Even a little betrayed.  Lydia had pushed you to confess to Stiles, she’d told you that she saw the way he looked at you, that friends didn’t look at each other like that.

I guess I was too late, you thought to yourself.  You were always too late.


You woke up to your doorbell ringing, followed by pounding on your front door.  You groaned, knowing you were the only person in the house to answer.  The rain was dumping outside, and it was actually helping you get to sleep.  Which was now ruined thanks to whoever your visitor was.  You pulled on a jacket over your tee shirt and jeans, and padded down the stairs.  You checked the clock on the way.

“Who’s coming here at eleven o’clock on a Thursday night?” You mumbled to yourself.  Then opened the door.

“Tell me why you’re ignoring” You almost gasped aloud when Stiles spoke the second the door opened.

“I don’t know wha-”

“Don’t bullshit me y/n tell me right now why you’re ignoring me” His hair was so soaked it hung over his face.  His clothes stuck to him, and you could see his pained expression.  He’d been crying.

“Stiles I-I can’t”

“You have a mouth and you’re clearly able to speak, so you very well can, tell me”

“No Stiles, I can’t”

“Why the hell not? What happened y/n? Why do you hate me?”

“Hate you!?” You screamed, and shoved him on his shoulders, taking him by surprise, as he stumbled backwards.  You stepped outside towards him.  “You think I’m ignoring you because I hate you!?” You punched the sides of your fists against his chest.  “You fucking idiot I’m ignoring you because I fucking love you and there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it!” You continued to attack him.  “Lydia told me oh no y/n, the way he looks at you and blah blah all that shit! And so after weeks I muster the courage to go tell you and what do I find Stiels!? You! Making out with- with Malia!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, getting soaked under the downpour.  He snatchde your wrists so you’d stop hitting him.

“Oh so you think it’s that fucking easy!?” Stiles yelled back, and you silenced yourself.  “I didn’t even have the slightest amount of bravery to just waltz up to you and tell you I was fucking in love with you! You know what happened that day y/n? In the lab!?” you didn’t say anything, just stood staring at him, silent tears rushing down your pink cheeks.  “Malia kissed me, and I pushed her off because I was in love with you”

“Key word was” You muttered under your breath.  Stiles grabbed your chin roughly between his forefinger and chin.  Forcing you too look up at him.  His eyes were so intense, you wanted to look away but you couldn’t.

“Am” He emphasized.  “I am in love with you, and you don’t get to say shit because I have been since we were six” Your chest rose and fell quickly, desperate to catch a full breath.  It was silent for a good four seconds.  Four seconds of starting at each other with such passion that it was too much.

How do you fix unresolved passion?

You both jumped forward, your lips colliding in a kiss that made you see stars behind your eyes.  Stiles’ hands were cupped around your cheeks, and yours ran up into his wet hair.  Everything was wet and you wanted to cry tears of joy, tears of relief.

“I love you” He breathed.

“I love you too” You responded, and wrapped your arms around his neck.  You hugged each other tight, standing outside in the rain, but not caring to move.

“I’ve always wanted to kiss you in the rain” Stiles mumbled.  “Kinda romantic”

“I was thinking sexy” You mused.  He hummed.

“Well then let’s go inside”

And when you nodded, it was the first time Stiles was ever faster than you.

Just come home

3

“Jesus!”  Stiles shrieked as the loft door slid open enough to reveal you and Peter curled together on the couch, engaged in a heated makeout session.  “Get a room!”  He threw one arm up over his face to shield his eyes, his other hand flying up to slap over Scott’s eyes as well.  Pulling away from Peter you laughed as his arms tightened to keep you from sliding completely off of his lap.

“You don’t live here.  You can’t tell us what to do.”  Peter retorted, glaring at the two boys before lowering his lips to the junction between your shoulder and your neck.

“We sit on that couch!”  Stiles countered, separating his fingers enough to see if you two were still kissing or not.

“Not my problem.”

Coming Back to You // Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer & Y/N’s reunion after she’s been away for a family emergency.

A/N: Just a small fluffy fic that demanded to be written. I hope you enjoy!


Originally posted by sarcastic-defense


“Look at him. He’s like a lost puppy,” JJ commented to Morgan as the two watched Spencer prepare himself coffee across the bullpen. His eyes kept wandering towards the two glass doors, waiting for your arrival that morning. Every time the doors slid open his head would jerk up, only to look away sadly when he realized it was just another agent that wasn’t you.

“He hasn’t seen his girl in two weeks. Of course the kid is going crazy,” Morgan replied with an amused chuckle. He’d had to deal with Spencer moping around after you had taken a few weeks off to deal with a personal family issue that had you flying out of state. Spencer’s mind was constantly wandering, and Morgan had caught him staring at photographs of you on more than one occasion. He hadn’t even attempted to hide them from him, his sadness too great to fear Morgan’s teasing.

Keep reading

Another great little story by @blackenedyew

I hope you all enjoy it!

—————————————————

Dad was standing out in the garden with his shit open, rubbing his hands over his massive belly. He didn’t know I could see him from the kitchen, but that made it even more arousing. He was slowly moving his hands in circles over his lower belly where the baby was sitting and where I knew he was feeling the strongest kicks.

He hadn’t been sleeping well recently, due to the increased activity of his rambunctious baby, and his doctor suggested getting more sun to increase melanin and melatonin production. So nearly every afternoon, when he got home from work, Dad would plop himself down in the sunny garden, open his shirt, and bask in the warm rays.

I would usually bring him something small to eat when he was out there, and once I caught him idly running an ice cube from his lemonade over his massive protruding gut, his eyes closed and his dick so hard I could see it straining through his slacks, leaving a big wet spot near the head. Today was no different; when I got home from class I saw Dad out back and I fixed him a sandwich and a glass of water. When I brought it to him, though, he rested the plate atop his huge belly and the baby gave a violent kick that made him whine out and sent the plate flying. As I bent down to pick it up, I saw he had undone his pants to give his ever-growing pregnant gut more room. The kick must have been in a well-placed region because he was rock hard, and steadily leaking precum.

I glanced up and caught his eye. “I think I’d better wait until dinner,” he said, “but why don’t you get the lotion and massage this big aching gut of mine, and calm down that little beast inside?” I just grinned, and told him he could have whatever he wanted.

—-

If you want to submit a story of your own, message me! :)

anonymous asked:

you slipped on a patch of ice and i happened to be walking behind you and you fell into my arms wow you’re really attractive au - Holsom please :) :)

Adam Birkholtz has decided that he is a very lucky man.

He is lucky because he is very large. He is lucky because he is very strong. He is lucky because he has quick reflexes. He is lucky because he was all three of those things at the same time when a stranger walking in front of him slipped backwards on the ice, and Holster managed to catch him easily.

But mostly, Holster thinks, he is lucky because that stranger he caught was hot.

“Oh my God, I am, so, so sorry, dude,” the stranger had sputtered as Holster gently placed him back on his feet. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, and I didn’t mean at all to–”

Holster laughed. “Chill, bro, it’s fine. No harm, no foul.” And that’s when he really looks at this guy, and he knows his poor bisexual heart has stopped dead.

He’s fucking beautiful is what he is. Jaw that could probably cut glass, short black hair and flawless dark skin, eyes that make Holster want to do corny shit like write poems about eyes. He’s tall, almost as tall as Holster is, and he’s built. And, Holster realizes as he watches the stranger bite his lip and stutter out an apology, he’s fucking adorable, too.

It’s not even fair.

Holster finally collects himself and stops staring, making himself focus on what Hot Stranger is actually saying. Something about coffee, and ruining his shoes, and that’s when he glances down at realizes that yeah, his beat-up gray sneakers have been soaked and are turning brown. Holster had been so distracted, he hadn’t even felt it. Hot Stranger is still apologizing.

“Seriously, I feel so awful, I should have been more careful, I can pay for a new pair, really, I swear–”

Holster cuts him off. “Dude, you are not paying for a pair of shoes. These were old as hell anyway, this’ll just give me, like, the incentive to actually go shopping for new ones.”

Hot Stranger frowns. “Still, please, there’s gotta be something I can do…”

Holster makes a lightning-quick calculation. He feels his face turning red, but he figures now is his best shot. “Well, um, maybe you can’t pay for a new pair of shoes, but I wouldn’t say no to coffee sometime?”

Hot Stranger’s eyes widen, and for a moment Holster is afraid he’s made a terrible mistake, but Hot Stranger speaks first. “Oh, wow, I mean…yeah, no, that’d be…that’d be really great, actually. Um. I could give you my number?”

Holster grins as he unlocks his phone and passes it over. “Yeah, sounds good, man.”

Hot Stranger’s fingers fly over the keyboard, entering his number, and after a few seconds he hands the phone back over. “I kinda have to get to class now. I’m in med school, actually, and they really, really don’t like it if you’re late. But, uh, it was really good meeting you! Catch you later. Well, I guess you actually, uh. Caught me already. I mean, literally. Um. See you later.”

Holster keeps grinning, even though he knows it probably looks dumb at this point. “You, too.”

Hot Stranger smiles nervously and turns around to finally go to class, and Holster knows that today is going to be a good day.

(Several feet down the sidewalk, Justin Oluransi has decided that he is a very lucky man.)