he wears something but a suit and tie

Ties and Turmoil - Jughead Jones Imagine

Originally posted by stydiaislove

Apologies for the lack of updates, I’m literally about to do my GCSE’s and school is hell :))) But thank you so much for reading and for 500 followers x

The whole atmosphere in the town was melancholy. It was a gloomy day for a gloomy cause. The memorial of Jason Blossom. Almost all of Riverdale had been invited, the reason being the Blossom’s were trying to single out who had killed their son. The memorial an excuse to do so. It was something no one really wanted to go to, but yet, everyone felt obliged.

Jughead paced around (Y/N)’s room, hands in his pockets as the lack of comfort of the suit urged forwards. He sighed, staring at his shoes as he waited for (Y/N) to come out the bathroom. A small ‘click’ of the lock caused Jughead to quickly glance up, and though the matter was depressing and sad, Jughead was taken aback by the beauty radiating from (Y/N). Jughead cleared his throat, looking back down at his shoes.

“You uhh… You look beautiful.” He mumbled, a light pink dusting his cheeks. (Y/N) smiled brightly, looking down at what they were wearing.

“Thanks, considering we are going to a memorial, however, I don’t know if that’s a good thing.” They joked, trying to lighten the dull mood. Jughead smirked slightly, looking up to meet their (E/C) eyes.

“True, but I’d just take it as a compliment.” He backfired, making (Y/N) laugh. (Y/N) eyed Jughead up, looking at him in a suit, something they had never seen in their life.

“You brush up quite nicely yourself, Jughead. I don’t think I’ve ever had the honour of witnessing you in a suit.” They grinned, walking up to him, and toying with his undone tie. “You still don’t know how to tie a tie?” They teased, causing Jughead to smile lightly. Whilst they began to tie up Jughead’s tie, he took the time to analyse their face. Noticing small details he hadn’t noticed before.

“If I had, I wouldn’t get to have you do it for me.” Jughead murmured quietly, grabbing their hand once they were done. Smiling up at him, (Y/N) reached up to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Well you’re lucky I do it willingly.” They smirked once more, going to pull away, however, Jughead swiftly pulled them back, wrapping his arms around their waist.

“Do we have to go? We could always just, stay here?” Jughead suggested, leaning into (Y/N)’s touch as they caressed his cheek. Though (Y/N) smiled lightly, they frowned too.

“As appealing as that sounds, babe, not going, would weigh us both down with guilt. I mean, Cheryl, as much of a bitch she is, needs support. Because she sure as heck isn’t getting any from her parents.” (Y/N) grumbled, looking down. Jughead noticed their turmoil, and gently cupped their chin, (Y/N) closed their eyes at the contact.

Jughead leant forward, resting his forehead against (Y/N)’s, and kissed the tip of their nose lightly. “Okay, fair point.” He whispered. “But I need you to help me out with something.” This caused (Y/N) to open their eyes, looking up into his gorgeous grey.

“Am I going to like this?” They questioned, pulling back slightly. Jughead sighed, looking around the room.

“No, but this is really important, you always help with the murder board, and this is something that’s going to benefit that.” (Y/N) thought for a moment, before deciding, whatever it is, may as well be worth a try.

“Okay, but nothing illegal.” They jokingly warned, but Jughead knew there was some seriousness behind their tone. Jughead embraced (Y/N) tightly, their head resting in the crook of his neck.

“No promises.” He whispered, causing a chuckle to escape (Y/N)’s throat.

“Come on, we have a memorial to go to.” They smiled, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the door.

Southern Motherf*cking Democratic Republicans (Jefferson x Madison x Burr x Reader)

Words: 1600+

Request: psst hey soulmate au with one of southern motherfucking democratic republicans? 😉

Warnings: Nope

A/N: Hope ya like it anon! (and everyone else!) I apologize for taking so long, college’s been a b*tch

The universe was unfair.

It was said that everyone would meet their soulmate at 18. And for the most part, it was true. The distinct tattoo that everyone had would glow red and hurt whenever they bumped into the love of their lives, and happily ever after. Of course, the ones that did not, their tattoos would fade. It was usually due to their soulmate dying or their soulmate giving up on love. It was not common, but it did happen. Those were all the cases that you heard, so you wondered why it was so different for you.

You were 27, and it’s been almost ten years since you were supposed to meet them. Ten years of wondering when your tattoo would fade, ten years of hoping that you would just bump into them while walking into the bathroom or buying groceries.

Ten years of anticipation.

You tried your best not to give up on the idea of love. But it was hard, it was so difficult. You stared at the snake on your arm. It started at the tip of your pointer finger and curled all the way around your arm, your shoulder, and ended at the corner of your left ear. It was beautiful.

But it did not cover the whole in your heart, the need to see whose tattoo matched yours. But you did, cover it, hid it from your coworkers and other colleagues. It was for the best. At least, that’s what you convinced yourself.

You walked into the auditorium, readying yourself for the speech that was about to take place. Your boss required you to attend, and to interview the men that spoke afterword. They called themselves “The Southern Democratic Republicans”, and you scoffed when you heard the words. Did they think they were the founding fathers or something?

It was about the research into soulmates, and how the process actually worked. You couldn’t hide the fact that you were interested in hearing their results, despite their ridiculous name.

“Y/N, did you see their pictures?” Your friend, Eliza, whispered. She already found her soulmate, Alexander Hamilton. You haven’t met him yet, but you were told that he was a loud mouth and slightly pompous. It was intriguing how a woman like Elizabeth Schulyer ended up with a man like him. But you saw the glow in her eyes when she mentioned him, and your heart ached.

“Nope, why? Do they look as strange as their name?” You joked, sitting in the first row. She sat next to you, shoving the paper in your hand.

“Hahaha,” she said sarcastically, passing you the pamphlet, “the opposite actually. They’re hot.” You raised your eyebrow at her, and she chuckled, a small blush appearing on her cheeks. “I mean, they’re handsome. But, not as handsome as my Alexander.” She added, winking at you. You rolled your eyes at her, looking down at the paper in your hand.

You looked at the man who appeared first. Thomas Jefferson. His credentials were phenomenal, having several master degrees and even achieved the title of doctor. His hair was wild, curls pointed in every direction. There was a small smirk on his face, like he knew something you didn’t. You noticed he was wearing a turtleneck in the picture, and you were curious. Was he trying to hide something?

The next man was James Madison. He had several degrees as well, but most were bachelors. He was as handsome as the man before, his expression emotionless. His hair was short, and he wore a suit, with a scarf covering his neck.

The last, but not least, was Aaron Burr. He was grinning fully in his picture, in a suit and tie. His hair was short as well, and his credentials were amazing, competing with Jefferson’s. There was a camera glare in the picture, making it seem like his head was floating over his torso.

Eliza nudged you, bringing your attention to the stage ahead of you. “Hey, I know they’re good-looking, but wouldn’t it be better to see them in real life?” She whispered, and before you could give her an answer, the lights dimmed down, and the white screen came down.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we would like you to give a warm welcome to The Democratic Republicans; Aaron Burr, Thomas Jefferson, and James Madison!” The crowd clapped loudly, and you wondered if this was some sort of concert. Why is it so loud at a convention?

The men walked out one by one, Aaron Burr appearing first. He waved at the crowd, grinning happily. Next, Thomas Jefferson walked out, nodding at the crowd with a small smile. James Madison was last, holding a tissue to his mouth, waving at everyone. They approached their podium, each of them having one individually. They were all wearing suits, besides Jefferson’s byzantium colored one.

“Oh shit, I was right…” Eliza mumbled, wiggling her eyebrows at you. You giggled, turning back to the stage. You did notice that all of them wore a scarf around their necks, underneath their suits, which was strange to you. You touched the turtleneck you wore with being aware, staring at the men.

“Welcome fellow scientists, lawyers, journalists, and whatever career you may have.” Jefferson started, causing a chuckle from the audience.

“We are here to present to you the idea of soulmates and how it has changed over the course of our lifetime.” Aaron Burr added, looking at his colleague. James coughed.

“We’ve researched most of our lives how soulmates became a concept, and in a few moments, we are going to show you our final findings.” James replied, passing the clicker to Jefferson. Jefferson smiled at his friend, and began the slides.

You wrote down as much information as possible, astonished that they came up with all these new insights on humanity and the tattoos etched on the skin. They were almost complete with their presentation, when they took off the scarfs around their necks. You were too focused on your writing to notice what was actually going on. Everyone in the audience gasped, and Eliza hit you on the arm.

“Look, Y/N! Oh, my gosh…” She mumbled, her eyes staring at you. You pushed your eyebrows together, confused.

“What-“ She turned your head towards the stage, and your eyes widened.

All of the men took off the cloth around their neck, revealing what they were hiding underneath. It showed a snake tattoo on their neck. But that was not the strange part.

“As you can see, we all have the same tattoo around our neck. We were not sure why this happens, but maybe it is because we all have the same soulmate.” Jefferson said, glancing at his friends.

“We thought that we were soulmates, but the tattoo did not glow or burn.” James added.

“So, we began researching this topic, since this has never happened before in the history of mankind. That there was more than one person we were meant to be with.” Aaron added.

Their tattoos were the same as yours. You heart beat quickened, realizing what was going on. You felt the skin on the left side of your body burn, and you pulled up your sleeve violently, revealing the red glow in the dark theatre. Your arm was shaking, and you felt a giant weight on your shoulder.

“What the hell?” You heard Thomas say. There were numerous gasps in the audience.

You looked back up to the stage, and all their tattoos were as red as yours. You quickly pulled your sleeve down, not wanting them to notice.

What were you doing? Did you not want to find your soulmate? You heard your mind say, but you ignored it.

“Our soulmate, they must be here. They must be in this room!” Aaron exclaimed, looking out into the crowd.

You had to leave, and it had to be quick. Before they noticed the glow of red on your arm and the pained look on your face. Eliza looked back at you glaring your things, and shook her head.

“Don’t leave them.” She whispered. “Don’t regret their love.” Her eyes were disapproving of you, wanting you to stop your mad dash. You disregarded her discontentment, and shoved your papers in your bag.

“Does anyone have the same tattoo as us? Please, show yourself!” Jefferson yelled, scanning the audience. There were murmurs around, the people in the crowd looking back and forth for the missing soulmate. You took this time to jump out of your seat, running to the exit.

“Hey!” You heard Aaron yell, but you ignored, almost making it to the door. You glanced back, seeing the three men leaping off the stage, their eyes on you. It was hard to run when your arm was in pain, but you ignored it, pushing through the doors.

You ended up in a packed lobby, bumping into everyone that was in your way. You heard protests and insults being thrown at you, but you just need to get away from all of this.

You needed to think about what this means.

“Please, just wait!” You heard James yell, and you froze, your body unable to move. You tried to run forward, but for some reason, it wouldn’t budge.

Your body would not let you leave your soulmates behind.

You turned around, coming face to face with the three men that were just on stage. Aaron was out of breath, leaning down. James was staring at you, in awe. Thomas smiled at you, and your heart warmed.

“So, you’re our soulmate?” James said, holding out his hand. You shook it. The glow on your arm lessened, but was still as bright as the sun. Thomas held out his hand next, and you shook it as well, your fingers tingling. The pain went away from the tattoo, and you sighed in relief. It still glowed wildly. Burr was the last, holding yours a bit longer than the rest. The glow immediately dissipated after that, leaving you four to stare at each other in amazement. After a few seconds of this, you cleared your throat.

“So, um, how are we going to fix this?” You whispered. They all looked at each other, and then at you.

“I guess we’ll have to share you.” Thomas grinned wickedly. You sighed, staring at the three in front of you.

You were always told; two is better than one. Who knew that it would double?

RFA + Saeran at the Zoo

Requested by someone: Sorry! Tumblr deleted our messages, so we hope this is what you wanted! 


  • He wanted to take you to see different beasts ;)
  • He has to wear a hat and a mask to make sure you aren’t disturbed by fans
  • Complains that his selfies with animals aren’t as nice as they could’ve
  • Whenever they get to the bigger, scarier animals, he comes behind you and hand bites you
  • You scream in surprise and he gushes at how cute it was
  • By the fiftieth time, you’re getting really annoyed
  • You lose him in the penguin section
  • “MC! Look at them waddling! So cute!”
  • He imitates their walk and people stare, but you think it’s so cute
  • Buys you a stuffed wolf
  • Howls and nuzzles you with it
  • Gets flustered when you say you’re going to name it after him


  • You take him here as a surprise
  • Because he absolutely adores animals, and is studying to become a vet…good gift, right?
  • Lights up like a puppy as soon as you get there
  • There’s a photo booth with a green screen letting you take pictures with different animals
  • Yoosung was unfortunate and wore a green shirt, effectively making him a floating head
  • He’s so bummed, but you have to suppress your laughter
  • He rattles off a bunch of facts about all the animals
  • He’s high-key trying to impress you and show he’s been studying
  • Both of your phone storage gets full by the end
  • He has hundreds of pictures of animals, and you have hundreds of pictures of him looking at animals
  • You might take him to the zoo every week because him around animals is just soo cute


  • She’s been really stressed with work lately and finally has a weekend off
  • A new zoo opened up in town, and she says she hasn’t gone since she was a very little girl
  • You immediately get tickets
  • She’s a little hesitant and weird at first, because she feels out of place
  • Then she gets to hold a koala
  • She has a new found love for animals and gets very interested in all of them
  • She compares all the animals to Zen
  • Her favorite animal, she finds, is the peacock (you wonder why)
  • While she’s occupied, you buy her a peacock bobble head and planner for her office
  • She proclaims they are now her most prized possessions–next to her DVD collection


  • He googled “cute date ideas” and the zoo came up (dork)
  • Tells you to get dressed
  • “Wear something wild” he says.
  • “What????”
  • He actually forgoes the three piece suit for once…instead wearing only a button up and a tie.
  • The tie has paw prints on it
  • When you get to the zoo, you finally understand his comment earlier about dressing wild.
  • He’s a bit smug when you find humor in his joke
  • He buys those passes where you can go behind the glass and pet certain animals
  • He’s a bit disappointed when they won’t let him pet a tiger
  • “I’m really good with cats though.”
  • You convince Jumin to get those animal hats
  • You take so many pictures of him in monkey ears
  • He buys you a HUGE stuffed animal
  • Also brings home a few souvenirs for Elizabeth the 3rd since she couldn’t accompany you…this time


  • You get home after a long day at work
  • There’s a note on the counter and a small, pink bag
  • The note says, “They say you should buy something you wanna see your girl in. ;) See you at 3pm, babe.”
  • You’re a bit nervous and check the bag
  • Inside is a t-shirt half a tiger on it and accompanying tiger ears
  • You wear it and when he comes to pick you up, you see he’s also wearing the ears…and a shirt with the other half of the tiger on it
  • A few selfies later, you’re off to the zoo
  • It was literally like you two were the only one in the zoo with you having your own little conversations
  • Selfies with all the animals
  • You both pitch in to buy Saeran a stuffed hyena with a button to press to make it laugh


  • He needed to get away from his enthusiastic brother for the day
  • You’re both casually eating ice cream and see a sign promoting the new zoo
  • Since you both were free–and he was in no rush to get home–you decide to go
  • He’s actually really fascinated by all of them
  • You take a bunch of pictures of him staring at them, his mouth hanging open
  • They have a dolphin show that day
  • The only seats open are the splash zone
  • You. Get. Soaked.
  • Although, he tried to protect you from a few of the larger splashes
  • You really want to get something matching from the gift shop, but not being too flashy
  • He picks out turtle bracelets for you both
  • They’re so cute, and he’ll never tell you but he rarely takes it off 
When You Come Home (Epilogue)

Part OneTwo, Three12 Days

Pairing: Lin-Manuel x Reader

Summary: The real finale.

Warnings: Just have fun, honestly.

Word Count: 12,303


Wow, you guys. That’s seriously all we can say. Like man, it’s been an adventure of a lifetime, lemme just say that. I mean, we can’t believe we wrote this entire thing (and that alone was so much fun, holy moly), but the fact that you guys enjoyed it?

We’re seriously so emotional. You guys have no idea.

Thank you so much to all of you that joined us on this journey. It’s been such an honor to receive such incredible, touching compliments on a daily basis, and we can’t stress how much we truly love you. Our hearts are so full of love for each and every one of you, and we’re so grateful to have been able to share a part of our hearts (and insanity) with you.

I can’t tell you how much yelling has been going on behind the scenes– Well, I’m sure y’all could imagine, but take whatever you’re imagining and multiply it by ten thousand. All of this yelling has been because of all of you (this is supposed to be a sweet sentiment, just take it, we’re hoarse, omg).

Again, thank you so much for your support, kindness, and love. We love you all so much. Thank you for making us two very happy dorky nerds. You’re all so amazing.

And so it’s with great pleasure that we present to you the epilogue.

- Team GTNW -


As much as you wanted to jump right into the next chapter of your life with the absolute love of your life, you knew it was best to let time run its course. The two of you decided to spend some time apart to just let things rest for a while, to regroup and think about what comes next, to prepare for the journey that was to come.

You’d both come to the agreement that you’d spend the next two months living your own lives, submerging yourselves back in the mundanity of work, giving the universe a much needed break (or rather, maybe the universe needed to give you guys a break).

That was the plan. Except two weeks after your reunion on the fire escape, your phone dinged with a new text message.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

i love the 'my man' headcanon omg tell us more about it! when was the first time alec called magnus that? was it a slip of the tongue sort of thing or said on purpose? what was magnus' reaction to the first time it happened? does magnus ever say "as your man,..." with a tiny smirk on his face as he continues on? omg i swear to god if alec has magnus as "my man" on his phone, im gonna die what a sappy dork

ausdfjasdfa I could talk about this headcanon all fucking day. 

Okay, so the first first time Alec says it, Magnus doesn’t hear him. He’s talking to Izzy. 

“Magnus looks pretty good today,” Izzy said with a smirk while nudging his shoulder. She’s observing 

Alec scoffed, “my man always looks good.” 

And Izzy just raises an eyebrow and laughs at him while he blushes and looks away- but he doesn’t take it back. 

The first time he says it actually TO Magnus was a total slip of the tongue. He 100% saved Magnus in his phone as “My Man” because he’s a disaster romantic dork he just hasn’t really been given the chance to be up until very recently. Also- side note, I just think its super funny that Alec is definitely the more romantic of the two. Like, Magnus thinks he is but his idea of romance is a little bit quirky and Alec is the true traditional romantic. Ngl he 100% has also whispered poetry in Magnus’s ears under the stars on the roof of Magnus’s apartment. 

But the first time Magnus hears it is when Magnus is getting ready to go out. They have reservations at this really nice restaurant that Magnus loves and Alec is super excited to go with him. Anyway, Magnus is wearing this really well-tailored suit, with signature jewelry, and a perfectly tied Winston knot on his bright blue tie that matches the blue eyeliner he’s wearing. 

And Alec just runs his hands up and down the lapels of his jacket (jfc Alec has such a thing for lapels #confirmed). And sort of murmurs to himself, “by the Angel, look at my man.” 

And the second he says it he realizes what he said and he kind of freezes and blushes, but he also has that signature Alec Lightwood Defiant Glare™ just daring Magnus to say something about it. 

“Your man, huh?” Magnus asks. His tone is snarky but his eyes are soft- and one hand reaches to grab one of Alec’s which is still resting on his jacket. 

“Yeah,” Alec says with this super dopey smile and then he raises this challenging eyebrow, “got a problem with that?” 

“Of course not, darling,” Magnus replies. 

And Alec just pulls him in and kiss him, they just barely make their reservation.

Of course, Magnus also uses this against him. Alec is just so weak and soft whenever Magnus refers to himself as his man. Just falls apart, Magnus has one too many arguments by slipping that in. Cheeky bastard. 

Alec is trying to explain why they can’t make out in the Institute but Magnus is kissing down his deflection rune and Alec is this close to cracking. 

“As your man, don’t I get special privileges?” Magnus asks. 

And, as always, Alec always just melts, and is like “yeah- yeah, you do.” 

BUT ALSO! (wow someone please stop me) He also uses it hella to defend Magnus. 

“What the fuck did you just about  my man?” Alec said glaring at a Clave official. Magnus isn’t even here, they’re just making joking comments about the slutty, bisexual, biracial Warlock and Alec won’t have it. 

Normally, if Magnus is around, Alec lets him defend himself because he knows he can. But you’d have to be a damn fool to insult Magnus Bane in front of Alec Lightwood, especially behind that Warlock’s back. 

“I- I-” 

“Don’t you dare talk shit about Magnus again. No one gets away with insulting my man, understood?” 

And the Clave official just shakes in his boots and nods. 

…. Yeah… So this got away from me….. My point is, Alec is just so soft and wants cuddles, and wants to be around his man. And he’s just so super happy that he gets to declare that he’s with a man, a great man, his man, whenever he fucking can. 

The World Is Ours

This is just something mediocre to make up for the fact that it’s been so long since I’ve last posted. Enjoy!

Justin stands at the other side of the room, his back straight and the black suit and tie clinging to him perfectly. My heart attempts to escape my ribcages whenever I look at him wearing such a thing, but I’d much rather he be wearing jeans and a T-shirt, just because I know he’d be more comfortable. He nods and smiles every now and then in response to the nonsense leaving the mouth of the man that stands close by him.

I know the smile is fake. It’s tight and hard and doesn’t touch his eyes. I watch in adoration when he licks his lips or bites down on his bottom lip, or runs a hand through his hair, I know he’s not even aware he’s doing any of these things.

Justin I both strongly dislike either of our parent’s parties, in fact, we spend many nights laid in bed and suggesting all the scenarios we could create that could get us out of them. But here we are. Again. 

“Oh, [Y/N]!” A voice bellows from the crowd of people dressed in fancy outfits, all of the faces secretly turning their noses up at everyone who so much as brushes their shoulder up against their own.

The voice is nasally and I would assume whoever is calling my name currently has the misfortune of a minor illness if I didn’t know the voice all too well.

“Amanda,” I say through gritted teeth. “How are you?” I ask while turning to my right to face her.

The woman stood before me is a close family friend. She thinks just because she happened to be close with my parents at one point in her life, she has the responsibility of making conversation with me whenever our paths meet. Her hair is cut perfectly and hugs her face. The deep red colour shines through every strand and sways almost in slow motion when she moves her head.

“I’m wonderful,” she slurs. “What about you, dear? What’s new with you?”

Even as she says this, I can guess she’s lying through her teeth. There’s a high chance her husband is cheating on her, and her, on her husband. She’s probably drowning in debt and her children wish they’d never been born. Despite this, she hides it with a smile.

“I’ve been fairly good, thank you,” I say and smile politely. “Not much is new but I’m just trying to appreciate every day.” I try to hold the smile on my face as she nods with a bored look in her eye.

“Rumour has it, you’ve got yourself a boyfriend,” Amanda grins and reaches an arm out as though to touch me, but thinks more of it and withdraws her claws.

‘I didn’t think that was so hard to believe but yes, I do.” I shift uncomfortably in my heels and feel my hand sweating around the wine glass. I alternated it between my hands and wiped my palms against my dress.

“.. Tell me about him,” she says quietly and sips her wine. I can see a red lipstick stain around the rim.

Justin pops into my mind without me having to make an effort. I suppress a smile and find the floor to be quite interesting. “Well, his name is Justin and we met a few years ago at college. He’s somewhere around here, actually.”

“I’d love to meet him.” She’s glancing around the room, and it’s painfully obvious she’s searching for a new target to make her own. I stay quiet and wait to see how long it takes before she disappears.

Eventually, I see her catch sight of her husband at the bar. She waves me off with a forced smile before her heels are click-click-clicking across the floor and through the crowd.

Sighing, I look around the room. People are smiling, laughing and enjoying themselves, sipping wine and making conversation. I tap my nails against the glass and enjoy the sound.

My shoes are the next to click against the floor while I make my way over to the long length table backed up against the wall. All sorts of food has been spread across it and I can feel my stomach rumbling at the sight.

“‘Scuse me, kind woman,” someone says - with a distinctly fake-posh accent - from directly behind me. “Would you mind joining me in a delightful conversation about the ten different yachts I own, and how I went backpacking through Antarctica last year? And let’s not forget about how I own five houses in five different states in America.”

“You suck at accents,” I laugh and crane my neck to see Justin grinning down at me. “What even was that?”

“What? That? Oh, just my imitation of just about everyone in this room.” He rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his half-empty glass of wine. “I’m surprised to see muffins and cookies being served here. I thought it’d be all scones and fancy cakes.”

“Me too,” I say while taking a cookie from the silver platter. I break it in half and feel crumbs fall into the palms of my hand. “Want some?”

Feeling Justin’s closeness, I turn to look at him once more. His mouth is parted and it allows me to see his tongue laying low. His breath is hot against my face. I break the cookie into smaller segments and drop a piece into Justin’s awaiting mouth. Crunching noises ring through my ear, and a sweet kiss lands underneath my right ear after the sound comes to a halt.

“I don’t care how stuck up these people are, they make good cookies,” he mutters quietly and it causes a buzz through my neck that lingers for a few seconds.

While he’s busy crunching down on the remaining cookie, Justin is dragged away by a man I’ve never seen, but is apparently familiar to Justin because I see a small sigh leave his lips. Justin kisses my cheek and squeezes my hand before letting go and making his way through the crowd with reluctance.

I’m left alone once more, surrounded by bodies and feeling out of place. I stroll around the room and listen in to small segment of different people’s conversations; they range from cars to time shares to housing, to holidays in the Caribbean. I end up leaning against the wall in the far side of the room.

It takes another hour or so before I see Justin again, having been dragged into encounters of my own with people I barely know.

When Justin makes an appearance, he comes in close and grips my hand with his. I’m pleased to see him and I smile instantly.

“Let’s go,” he says and I frown in confusion.

“What? Whe-“

“Let’s leave right now, anywhere you wanna go. I can’t stand another five minutes with these people. This isn’t us. We’re not classy or fancy; we sit at home eating pizza and watching Netflix, we hit the stores at midnight looking for cookie dough, we sit on hotel balconies and feel each other up. I want all of that, not this.”

He didn’t have to say anything else to win me over; I’d been feeling the exact same all night.

“Are you in?” he asks and watches me hopefully. I waste no time and nod, and before I can comprehend, my hand is prisoner to Justin’s and we’re gliding in and out of the crowd. I manage to drop my wine glass on the buffet table without spilling anything as I glide passed the it.

Thankfully, we manage to make our way to the door without being noticed or stopped as I thought we would have. I can’t see either of our parents ready to stop us from fleeing either, and this causes a rush of hope to shoot through me that makes me grab the door handle and slide out before Justin does the same.

Almost in a flash, all of the commotion and noise I had to endure over the course of the night disappears. I wonder if I’ve momentarily gone deaf until Justin coughs gently and crushes my rising worry. The night is cold and I can see our warm breath escaping into the night. Justin’s hand keeps my own warm while the rest of my body shivers.

“Where to?” I ask while he’s already busy pulling me down the drive of my parent’s house and across the street. It’s quite late, meaning there’s no one in sight. The street looks frighteningly lifeless.

“Anywhere, just somewhere we can be together,” he replies and his breath flies towards me but disappears before it can touch me.

We end up at a 24-hour store by Justin’s request, his argument being he was hungry, despite having just scoffed anything he could find on the buffet. I didn’t object because I knew I had just enough money in my bag for a drink; my throat was burning for something other than overpriced wine.

The store was the only source of light on the street, it was getting darker by the minute and the streetlights were either broken or not on a schedule and had been abandoned for the night. Either way, I had that familiar thankfulness you feel when you see artificial lights and life after all you’ve seen is darkness for a long period of time. It was comforting.

Behind the counter however, was a man who didn’t seem very happy he was working the night shift. He looked half-dead as we walked through the automatic doors and made no effort to adjust himself to appear friendly.

Justin’s hand had been holding my own all the way to the store, but as soon as we were walking down the aisle full of food, his fingers slid away from my own.

“God, I’m starving,” he mutters while grabbing anything in his sight from the shelves. It’s not long before he’s cradling his items in his arms and walking towards the counter.

Meanwhile, I grab a bottle of water from the chilled section while trailing Justin like a puppy. The packaging crinkles loudly as Justin drops his things and I place my bottle down quietly. The cashier doesn’t look impressed and sighs heavily before straightening up.

Once we’ve paid, and the cashier has received a long, hard stare from Justin after asking him if he’d like a bag, we’re back out in the cool air and strolling off into the darkness. The bag rustles and disturbs the quiet but Justin doesn’t seem to care.

“Where to now?” I ask.

“Wherever we want, babygirl. The world is ours. I just want to be with you,” Justin replies, my heart would have been beating a lot faster if he wasn’t busy rummaging through his bag for the packet of Oreos he’d just bought.

Feysand Headcanons #2

- After the war, Feyre and Rhys have the wedding they deserve, obscenely happy to be together again, and able to have their family bear witness to that happiness.

- Lucien is the minister, and he keeps getting distracted by Elain with flowers in her hair, in her bridesmaid dress.

- Feyre doesn’t wear white. She wears something dark and flowy with an endless train that sparkles like the night sky. She bears her tattoos proudly, uncovered for all to see, especially the High Lady tattoo. And she’s wearing a crown, not flashy, but reminiscent of the the ones Rhys had her wear what seems so long ago. The skirt of her dress is made up of layers of sparkling tule, with slits up the sides that show off her legs in her lace-up heels.

- and Rhys—RHYS OH MY GOD. DOES HE LOOK DELICIOUS. He’s wearing a black suit, the tie matches Feyre’s dress, and he can’t stop smiling, he just can’t and he doesn’t ever want to. He cries when he sees his Mate in her dress for the first time; it’s nothing like the last time he saw her in a wedding dress. This time she doesn’t look gaunt and sad and hollow. She looks beyond happy, and HEALTHY.

- Mor is beaming as she and Amren walk side by side down the aisle before Feyre, co-maids-of-honour. Her High Lady is home safe, and her cousin is happier than he’s ever been. She can’t keep her eyes off of Az.

- Cassian gives a toast at the reception, half drunk and halfway to crying, and Mor keeps trying to shut him up, but he on,y stops when Nesta begrudgingly drags him by the arm from the podium and back to his seat so Mor can give her maid of honour toast.



for @alrightpotter who didn’t expect this but got it anyway

“Objection! The witness just perjured himself.”

Lily wanted to hit him so badly she physically had to hold herself back from doing so. “Judge, the witness is stating his name, I don’t understand how that is willingly perpetrating a lie in this court.”

Potter, already standing, smirked at the jury like they were his friends. A majority smiled back. “It says on the witness statement here” at this he waved the bit of paper at the jury, like they already didn’t have a copy, “that the witnesses name is ‘Peter Adam Pettigrew’ and not ‘Peter Pettigrew’ like the witness just claimed. Presumably the witness knows his own name, and this is clear grounds for expulsion.”

“Judge he clearly misspoke-“

“Oh so now you’re assuming on behalf of the witness, forgive me, Miss Evans but I thought you were representing the crown and not Mr Pettigrew’s interests-“

“The job of a lawyer is to respond to objections Mr Potter, and you’d know that if you ever paid attention-“

“Objection!” Potter called again, pointing at her like a child, “Miss Evans just questioned my credentials-“

Lily gripped the pen she was holding so hard she snapped it. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I miss the part where I questioned you were a lawyer? Was I not present in the event of that coming out of my actual mout-“


“Counselors!” Lupin didn’t even bang his gavel, “Mr Potter will you please sit down, it is not necessary for you to stand up every time you say something. Miss Evans, would you care to face your witness? The court does not have this sort of time for you two to dispute over every point. Mr Potter your objection is overruled.

Potter collapsed back into his chair, still staring at her, eyebrows slightly raised. Next to him Black, leaning on the back legs of his chair and with a wonky tie, was grinning, as if he wasn’t on trial for embezzlement and fraud and god knows what else. Potter was still staring at her like a dare, like he was waiting to go in again, and she wanted to hit something.

She turned back around. “Mr Pettigrew if you could state your age for the court.”

“Uh.” Pettigrew was sweating, face glossy, and leaned in to close to the microphone. “twenty-one.”

“Objection! The witness is actually twenty-one and seventy-two days and has failed to make this clear to the court.”

Lily felt all blood rush to her head, because it was month three of this bullshit, and it was to fucking hot, and there was ink on her pants, and he was so clearly trying to put on a show to entertain the jury, and it was so clearly working. “How would anyone be expected to know-“

“I know my exact age is twenty-three years and one hundred and eleven days so it’s not my fault Miss Evans that you don’t keep up to date with your personal-“

“Not all of us have so much time on our hands Potter you fucking assh-


“Oh I make time so don’t blame me-“


“Fucking God you’re being ridicul-“


“Mr Potter! Miss Evans!” and suddenly, Lily was aware of Lupin yelling, and that Potter had gotten up from his desk, and they were inches from each other, and that the jury had seen all of it. Good god, he was close, she could see each of his eyelashes. There was a slight scar across his left cheekbone.

“This is a courtroom!” dimly, Lupin was yelling, but it was as if she was hearing it underwater, and she was looking at Potter, and he was looking at her, and she fucking hated him. He knew exactly how old Pettigrew was down to the day. Probably because he knew Pettigrew’s birthday. He probably knew a lot of things about Pettigrew she didn’t. That’s what comes with being best mates with someone since you were eleven.

Sirius didn’t do it you know. He’d said that day in the woman’s bathroom, and she’d jumped and sworn and flicked sink water at him. He really didn’t. He’s being framed.

He’s your client. She’d said, washing her hands and looking at him though the mirror, that’s what you’re supposed to say.

Trust me, if Sirius wanted to commit embezzlement he wouldn’t get caught. He’d responded, leaning against the door, hair just touching the frame, arms folded.

He’s your best friend. She’d said, simply, You’re defending him pro-bono. You’re supposed to think he’s innocent.


She was thinking of how he’d said nothing, how she’d turned around and he was gone, like a dream or a ghost. Later, when he never mentioned it in court or the halls or the office where they both argued about who could use the printer, she wondered if she dreamt it. Him, the bathroom, how he’d looked at her. Almost sadly. Like he knew something she didn’t. Like he wished she knew it to.

And now of course, standing there, getting a lecture on court behavior from an exasperated Lupin, she couldn’t help but look at him again. Thinking of Black’s wonky tie and Pettigrew sweating buckets on the stand and the five-thousand dollar suit he was wearing, despite claiming to be on benefits.

Lupin was still tlking anf-for once- Potter was completely silent. Lily couldn’t stop thinking about any of it, the case, the shady camera footage, how Pettigrew said his story the same way every time like he practiced it. And oh God, Potter’s face when he’d said He didn’t do it, you know. Like he really did know. Like he had never known anything so certainly in his life. And Oh God, it was times like this, and at four in the morning when she was lying awake, where she believed him. It was times like this when she was almost sure that she was making a terrible, terrible mistake.


Ok So I’ve read a whole lot of fanfiction, and in every one where they mention Katio Kid, they always write him as older or the same age as Kudo. This is incorrect. and to be honest, it’s kindof bugging me latley. So if anyone is interest in being as acurate as possible here’s something you should know.

Japan High School Uniform. While they are different in every picture, you can see that each student wears a blaser/jacket and a tie. 

You can see from comparing (and from Kudo’s monologes where he states he’s a highschool detective) That Kudo and Ran-chan are in High school

Here’s what japan Middle school / Jr. High  uniforms look like. In some schools, the girls wear jackets as part of their uniforms, but the boys always were high collor black suits. As you can see abouve, most of the girls uniforms are navey and have a bow of some kind as their tie.

So when you compare these looks to Aoko and Kaito you can easily see that kaito is in middleschool/Jr.high


Red Wine and Malay (Bucky x Reader) - Valentine’s Day Special

Summary: Your usual girl’s night is cancelled last minute and you’re certain that it’s going to be the shittiest Valentine’s Day yet… That is, until Bucky realizes that the two of you are the only one’s left in the tower dateless  and that the feelings he’s harboured towards you for months now just might be reciprocated.

Words: 3500 - it’s a long one oh boY
Warnings: none

A/N: a little choppy bc i wrote it all today but HVD you guys and enjoy! <3

Originally posted by rozakuolema

You stared silently at the two girls in front of you, trying desperately to not let your disappointment show. But hiding your emotions from not only your closest friends but also the world’s greatest spy and a telepath is pretty much impossible, and within seconds both Nat and Wanda were letting out a whole new wave of apologies.

You sighed, shaking your head as you tried to interrupt them. “Guys,” you began. “guys. It’s okay. Go enjoy yourselves, I’ll be fine on my own. It’s just another Tuesday, right?”

They stopped trying to speak over one another, two guilty smiles beginning to appear on their faces before they moved forward to embraced you tightly.

Usually you would spend Valentine’s Day curled up on the couch with them, cheesy chick flicks playing on the large TV, a bottle or two of wine, Chinese take out, and copious amounts of ice cream and chocolate being shared amongst you. 

This year, however, the two of them were busy with their respective dates (Vision and Bruce, of course) and you found yourself spending Valentine’s Day for the very first time alone. But as Natasha pulled away from your body, you could practically see the light bulb go off above her head.

“What?” you asked her, amused by how obviously excited she was over her idea.

“You know who else probably doesn’t have a date tonight?” she asked slyly.
Your smile dropped and your face flushed red as you shook your head, knowing exactly who she was thinking of.

“Oh come on, Y/N!” she complained, “Why not?” 

Wanda stood by her side, looking just as curious.

“Because we’re friends!” you exclaimed. “That’s all he sees me as and I’m not about to spend Valentine’s Day with him like that.”

“We’re just friends and you usually spend it with us.” Wanda chimed in and you threw her a glare. “What? It’s true.”

“Yeah but you guys know how I feel about Bucky.” You argued, voice lowered despite your bedroom being empty.

“All the more reason to spend it with him, then.” And that was Natasha.

“No.” you insisted. “That’s like the ultimate friend zone, you guys. I’d rather spend it alone with a bottle of wine and bad TV than wallow in the self pity of being ‘just friends’ with Barnes.”

“You don’t know that. You could have a great time.” Wanda countered but you only shrugged, refusing to comment anymore.

The two of them sighed, knowing that the conversation was over.

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Les Amis and Hogwarts Classes

Enjolras: Defense Against the Dark Arts. He beat his supposed doppelganger, Gilderoy Lockhart, in a Dueling Club match in second year. Lockhart has never forgiven him.

Combeferre: Arithmancy. He tends to use Arithmancy to predict larger-scale things, such as their rebellion against the corrupt Ministry, and guide their actions in light of what Arithmancy reveals, but he’s also used it to predict things like: “Which bow tie should I wear?’ or ‘Which glasses will meet with Courfeyrac’s approval?’

Courfeyrac: Muggle Studies. Because Muggle-born and Muggle rights are the center of their cause, and he admires their culture. Researched Muggle fashion, especially, so he doesn’t wear something ridic, like floaties and knee-high boots with a suit.

Joly: Potions. Thought he had dragon pox in first year, and after Madame Pomfrey refused to give him anything because he wasn’t ill, Madame Pomfrey gave him a placebo. He felt better ten minutes later. (Pomfrey has gotten to know him so well he’s almost like her son.) He’s never forgotten that the "cure” was a potion.

Bossuet: Care of Magical Creatures. The class is like a small contained version of Australia, where everything wants to kill you, but Bossuet can’t help but love all of the creatures. (He does find his ways of getting them not to kill him, although they’re a TAD unorthodox.) He moves to Australia after graduation and becomes the Wizarding Steve Irwin.

Grantaire: Transfiguration. He often wishes he could be another, more beautiful person. He uses this to make beautiful art through Transfiguration.

Jehan: Astronomy. Wizarding astronomers know of the work of Muggle astronomers, giving a sense of worldly connection. Like we’re all in this together. And on top of the way that Astronomy speaks of an entire world that might be beyond our knowledge, Jehan’s HOOKED.

Bahorel: Charms. He can’t deny an attraction to darker charms, such as jinxes and hexes. He often practices with Enjolras. But most of the time, he uses charms to change his appearance. He’s grateful he doesn’t have to mess around with make-up when his fingers aren’t dexterous, but he regrets it sometimes when he does things like accidentally remove his eyebrows.

Feuilly: History of Magic. It means everything to him that the Wizarding World chose him and accepted him, so he pays it back in kind by knowing it well. When he discovers that there are factions in this world that don’t like him, he’s disappointed but uses his disappointment to make things right.


Headcanon that, years after the Civil War, the ex-Avengers are brought back for one reason or another. But their status has changed. Steve isn’t in charge anymore, none of them are, and they struggle to find their place in this new order of things, with teammates who treat them with varying degrees of hostility. 

They demand to see Tony when things first start not to go their way, and are told in no uncertain terms by a very unimpressed Peter and Kamala that he’s got much better things to do than to cater to their every whim. 

Then comes the first day they have to put in an apparition together, just the old team, to show a united front even though they’ve barely had a glimpse of Tony since their return, and they certainly haven’t forgiven him either. It’s a public thing, something for the general masses. And they think that they’ll be fine, at least the public will be on their side. 

Except their reception is lukewarm at best. 

But when Tony comes in… When he walks onto the stage, wearing a fantastic black suit and a crimson tie… 

The crowd goes wild. They rise, and they scream his name, a chant almost. But it’s not “Iron Man” they chant, no. 

It’s “Tony.” 

Because it’s Tony who stood up for the people. It’s Tony who fought and almost died to protect their interests. It’s Tony who signed first when told they didn’t feel safe anymore. 

And they love him for it. 

nohurrytoshout  asked:

The suits headcannons are 😩😩🙌🙌WOBDERFUL!! LLIKE SERIOUSLY, THE WAY YOU DESCRIBED THEM WITH SUITS IS JUST 🙏praissee. Please do continue them!!! Possibly terushima, futakuchi, noya, and tanaka?? THANK YOU SOM MUCH

Sure! And I see you have a type. ;3 Bonus Ushijima and Tendou for you.

[The original suits headcanon here]


  • Three-piece, a brown so impossibly dark that under the wrong lighting it’s almost certainly black. Notch lapel and two buttoned, his jacket’s loose and open on top of a pristine white shirt. The kickers are his tie and accessories- a rich, metallic dark gold with matching watch chain and pocket square, highlighting his bronzed skin and blonde undercut. A pair of simple cap toe derbies finish the look.
    • You see, he knows, that you’d expect him to wear something flashy to match his personality and his wicked tongue piercing, but he also knows that he looks like an oasis in a desert in black and gold.
      • He does indulge his flashy side with his surprisingly smart-casual array of clothes- another formal favourite of his is a black and white checkered jacket on top of a simple black turtleneck with black pants and shoes.
    • He’s a naturally slim person, but his suits are structured to give him the confidence to match his smirk. Pants slim fitted to shape around his sleek calves, it makes him look miles tall.
      • His hair, when he actually tries, is slicked back firmer than usual, and there are absolutely no wisps of hair blocking the sinful expression he shoots at you.
    • Playing with his cuffs when he’s bored just doesn’t kick it for him. He prefers to rest his weight on one leg and slide the tips of his fingers into his pant pockets cockily.
      • He’s always the first one to get asked to dance, with his rough undercut and slick outfit, and boy are they all surprised because this man, despite looking like a million dollars, dances like he’s earning his keep dollar by dollar.
        • Give him a pole. Give him a fucking pole, and you’ll be going home a few items of clothing short tonight.

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Lostcauses Fic: Chrome

This is for @flecksofpoppy​ who pointed out that while there’s plenty of fan art of those leggings, they really deserve some fic.  Also for @fullmetallizard​ and anyone else who has grown to love Levi Ackerman’s fabulous fashion disaster.

“You’re not going out wearing that!”

Levi gapes at his flatmate aghast.

“Wearing what?”  Petra’s looks down at herself, nose scrunching into a little frown.

“That!” Levi waves his hand vaguely in his friend’s direction.

“You mean these?”  Petra peers at her shiny silver leggings, frown turning into something a bit more apprehensive.  “Why? Do they make my ass look big?” She cranes her head over her shoulder in an unsuccessful attempt to see her petite bottom.

“What the fuck? You’ve barely got an ass!”

“What’s wrong then?”

“Looks like something a twelve year old girl would wear.”  

“No it doesn’t!” Petra huffs.  “I’ll have you know this jacket came from a chi chi little boutique in the West End and the leggings are from a really cool Japanese outlet online.”

“I don’t care where they’re from,” Levi snorts dismissively, “I’m not going out with you looking like that.”

“And who made you the fashion police all of a sudden?”  Petra pouts, sticking her chin out defiantly.

“Just saying…”

“Just jealous more like.”  Petra sniffs haughtily.

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Just for Tonight (m)


Words: 16,826 (welp rip me).

Genre: Fluff, smut.

Summary: Jungkook plans on getting into the annual secret underground party for his birthday and you can’t help but tag along.

A/N: A fic for Jungkook’s birthday (I know I’m late, shh). Inspired by the movie Nerve. Thanks for helping me @pjmfantasy + @minsfires!

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dellastreet1933  asked:

I'd love a pre-phlint sickfic where Clint notices that Phil is sick and has to be stealthy about taking care of because Phil refuses to acknowledge his illnesses. At some point during the ridiculousness that ensues Clint discovers that what Phil hates the idea of "adorably amazing archers" being obligated to care for "pathetic paper pushing peons." (Phil either has a fever or is high on drugs, hence the alliteration).

“He did what?!”

Clint moved the phone away from his ear. His hearing was pretty shitty, but even so Sitwell was loud as hell.

“He drank the—”

“The green stuff?!”

“Yeah, he—“

Sitwell’s voice was climbing. “Why would he do that? Why would he drink the green stuff?! Does he have a head wound?!”

“No, no, uh, I think, maybe, it’s the flu? Or…what’s the one that’s like the dinosaur? Er, brontosauritis?”

“Barton. Make. Sense.”

Clint dutifully tried to reconstruct the past twenty minutes. “Probably the flu. I mean, I don’t really know, he’s been trying to hide it the whole mission, so I got him some cold medicine at the…well, anyway, I think he thought it was NyQuil, honestly.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“It is the same colour,” Clint added loyally.

The silence stretched. Clint pictured Sitwell pinching the bridge of his nose, the big lenses of his glasses riding up over his knuckles. It was an expression Clint was familiar with. In the adjoining room he could hear Coulson lecturing the potted plant about SOP for safe disposal of toxic spills in Research Lab A.

“Uh, hello?”

“Okay…okay. It’ll be okay. Where is he now?” Sitwell’s voice had smoothed out into that manufactured calm Clint assumed they taught people in S.H.I.E.L.D. Handler School.

“He’s here, he’s safe, he’s… uh…” The stream of dialog in the next room had turned heated. Maybe by now Coulson thought the plants were talking back. Clint stumbled onward. “So, what the hell did he drink?”

“The green stuff in the sealed container that was definitely not NyQuil?” Sitwell’s voice dripped sarcasm. “It’s truth serum, Barton.”

Clint snorted involuntarily. “Oh come on,” he said. “There’s no such thing as truth serum.”

“Oh there isn’t, is there? And how long have you been working for S.H.I.E.L.D., Agent Barton?”

“Uh, eight months?”

“So there are some things about S.H.I.E.L.D. that you might not conceivably know,” Sitwell said pleasantly. “Like who the odds-on favorite is in the betting pool for when Harris finally gets canned for yelling ‘Yippee-ki-yay’ every time he jumps out of a Quinjet. Or that Hill’s B&J favaflav is Lemont.Fuji which you can only get in scoop shops in Tokyo. Or that we have truth serum. We have all sorts of stuff. Including the stuff that you say Coulson just drank which is, alright, maybe not technically truth serum, but is instead AHC-73b, a substance which induces a euphoric sense of well-being and an overwhelming compulsion to talk, while completely destroying all of a peRsON’S INHIBITIONS.”

Sitwell panted into the phone for a couple of heartbeats. Clint definitely was not using the time to try to picture what his extremely buttoned-up new handler would be like without any inhibitions. He hadn’t known the guy long, but as far as Clint could tell Agent Coulson was all about inhibitions. On the couple of missions they’d been on together he had been the model of the impartial, efficient supervisor. From the impenetrable armour of the ever-present suit to his tightly-controlled badassery in the field, Coulson was…

Clint shook himself. He was being stupid. Okay, sure, the guy was attractive. And he ticked, like, every one of Clint’s boxes. Still, he’d begun to doubt there was anything at all under that suit…

…there was something under the suit.

Coulson lurched into the room, coming to a sloppy halt against the doorframe. If it wasn’t for his lack of coordination, glassy eyes, and the flush high on his cheeks Clint might not have known there was anything wrong with him. His black suit was immaculate as always, shirt crisp and white, his tie of some dark silky material that caught the light. He looked like he always did: contained, untouchable.

Except he wasn’t wearing any trousers.

His shorts were dark and made of some shiny, satiny stuff that looked all microfibre and tailored—Clint supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised—some kind of fancy underwear that was maybe boxer briefs. There was a scar across the big muscle of Coulson’s right thigh, leading upwards before it disappeared under the edge of the briefs, which were kinda tight okay, leaving nothing to the imagination…

“Barton,” Coulson barked. “We need to debrief.”

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Plot: just Seb fucking you in a bathroom | Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: swearing, smut, oral, fingering, this gif I added???

Word count: 2375

A/N: I haven’t posted in a while so take this as a peace offering! Also, I’m not at home and I have really bad Internet access here so I won’t tag anyone atm!

Masterlist | Request

Originally posted by sebastiansource

A New Year’s Eve party with your co-workers, in a club. What a dream come true. This was the last place you’d wanted to spend the last night of the year, but here you were, standing next to the bar, a glass of red wine in your hand, waiting for your friend who promised to be back in 5 minutes, but it had already been about 20.

You watched people grind on each other on the dancefloor; two of your male colleagues making out in the corner across the room made you smile. They always did have a crush on each other, it was adorable, yet gross since they were practically dry humping each other in public. 

But then your friend popped up right behind you, startling you. “Giiirrlll, you have no idea what just happened.’‘ 

You snorted. ’'What?”

“I just met my possible future husband! Did you know Chris Evans is here?” she practically squealed. You arched an eyebrow in question, since you weren’t really familiar with the name. 

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Conor Maynard Imagine - Wedding Date

Weddings were something you always used to enjoy. Seeing people who were in love tying the knot was one of the few things that could ever make you cry. However, as time passed and you grew older, they stopped being so joyful anymore.

Eventually, your friends started to attend such events with their significant others, and being the only one who didn’t bring anybody really dawn on you. Insecurities rose almost overnight: were you not good enough to get a boyfriend who could take you to weddings? Were you not good enough to get a boyfriend at all?

You sounded so desperate to yourself, you felt so small yourself, that you eventually stopped saying yes to any kind of wedding invitation. That was, of course, until you received that one card.

“I’m not going” you said, shaking your head as you paced back and forth your living room “All my childhood friends will be there and I’m just…there’s no chance I’m going” you said more to yourself than out loud, as Conor’s curious eyes followed your trails from your sofa.

“Y/N, she’s your best friend” he said “It’s okay if you bring no date, since when did you need a man to make a presence?”

And he was right, yeah, he was. Yet you couldn’t stop thinking about what your friends would think, what their mothers would think. Insecurities from your teenage years overcame you again, and you weren’t willing to let that happen.

You threw the wedding invitation towards Conor as the light bulb above your head suddenly started shining “You’re going with me” you suddenly said, more as an obligation than an invitation, as you pointed at him with your finger.

“What?” Conor chuckled “I mean, sure but are you really that desperate?” He laughed.

You rolled your eyes as you sat down next to him “Con, you’re my best friend and I really need to make a good impression to them” you told him. When he looked at you, you pouted and gave him those puppy eyes he was so weak for.

He looked away, playful “Don’t look at me like that, I already said yes” he smiled “But you realize we’ll have to pretend we are dating, right?”

“Yeah” you said, trying to hide the fact that you were blushing to death “I mean, it’s just for a night. We’ll be alright”

But the truth was, even though you thought you could pretend to be dating Conor just for a few hours, you definitely couldn’t.

Conor had been your best friend for about two years, and it didn’t take you long to fall for him. It wasn’t his eyes, nor his looks. It wasn’t even the way his voice made you daydream when he sang. It was how he treated you, how special and happy he made you feel. When you realized you were in too deep, you mentally cursed at yourself for falling for an international popstar. You knew you were in for a dangerous ride, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting to be more than a friend to him as each day passed.

Now, as you looked at your reflection in the mirror, a long pale dress hugging your curves slightly, yet adding a swift classic aura to it, you weren’t so sure you could actually act like a girlfriend to him anymore. At first it sounded like a good idea, then it hit you that couples actually kiss and hold each other. And would you be able to kiss Conor without hurting yourself even more? The answer was no. No way in hell you would come out alive and kicking.

One, you had never been in a relationship before. And two, it was Conor freaking Maynard. You let out a rather deep, long held sigh just seconds before you heard your doorbell ringing “Get yourself together, Y/N” you whispered as you adjusted your dress one more time “It’s just Conor”

You opened the door slowly, as if you didn’t want your night to start. When it was fully opened, you were finally able to take a good look at Conor. He looked handsome, indeed. Really, really handsome. He was wearing a dark blue suit and a grey tie, and his hair looked strangely good that afternoon. You mentally sighed again.

“You look beautiful” he said, giving you a small kiss on top of your head as he placed a hand on your hip to make his way inside the apartment “Uber will be here in 5”

“Right” you said, trying to hide the obvious fact that you were shaking with nervousness “You look…attractive” you said awkwardly, making him laugh.

“Hey, loosen up a little” he smirked “Tell me you want to pin me up against a wall or something. We are supposed to be dating, remember?”

You smiled cheekily, feeling now relieved and more confident as you knew Conor was so into the part “I do remember” you said, as you got dangerously close to him. You eyed him, your stare too playful for him to suppress a smile.

You pulled yourself inside his embrace, as his arms immediately went around your torso “Just try not to kiss me too much tonight” you teased him, and you swore you could hear the sexual tension between you two.

He chuckled slightly “I mean, I’ve held myself together for two years, I can do 12 more hours” he smiled, then it hit you what he had actually said. Holding himself? What was that supposed to mean?

But before you could ask, his phone vibrated with a text “Ride’s here” he said, taking your hand in his as you took your purse “Ready to have some fun?”

The wedding reception was indeed beautiful. Flowers from all kind of colors and shapes could be seen literally everywhere, from chairs to the ceiling, from door handles to towel holders. Seeing your friends again didn’t make you feel as bad as you had thought it would, mainly because you had Conor by your side.

His arm never left your waist, and he sneaked a few kisses on top of your head every now and then. He was taking the fake-boyfriend role very seriously, and at some points you found yourself not being able to distinguish reality from part-playing.

The truth was, you could get used to it. You could get used to Conor having his arms around you all the time, his touch always warming up your skin. Always making sure you were alright.

“Are you having fun?” You asked him, once you finally sat down around the restaurant table, once the ceremony was over. He had been chatting with some of your childhood friends, and they really seemed to get along. You had told them that you didn’t want the world to find out you were dating Conor Maynard, and that’s why you had kept it secret, even from them. They believed it.

“Actually, yeah” he said “I haven’t been to a wedding since I was like, what…8?” He laughed “It’s all about the company” he smiled, looking sweetly at you.

You blushed and looked away rapidly “It’s all about your fake girlfriend, huh?” You dared to ask, your eyes still not focused on his.

“Kind of” he said, and you could basically hear his smirk “I’ll have to run from the press next Saturday” he said with a small chuckle, almost in a whisper.

You looked confusedly at him. Next Saturday? Why in the world would he need to run from paparazzi for? “What do you mean?” You asked him, your heart racing for some weird reason.

“Tinder date” he said, not looking at you. His eyes were apparently fixed on all the couples holding each other and dancing on the dance floor “I mean, I’m supposed to be dating you”

Suddenly, you felt your heart shrink. How could you have been so stupid and actually believe that you had a chance? You mentally slapped yourself for even considering that option. You knew that wedding was going to end up breaking your heart, but you didn’t expect it to be so soon.

“Oh” you managed to let out “Yeah, you better avoid them then” you said casually, yet coldly.

Conor, on the other side, wasn’t feeling very well either. He was having fun, he was even enjoying the part where he pretended to be the cute boyfriend who would stick by your side forever. What the hell was wrong with him? When you asked him for his plans on Saturday, he found it difficult to admit he was going on a date with another girl. But…why? It felt so wrong to him, even though it was just another average Tinder date. He felt as if he was betraying you, cheating on you.

Suddenly, he didn’t want to go anymore. He took a good look at your face while you were looking away, eyes lost in the crowd. Since when did you look so beautiful? Because of course you were beautiful, but since when did he even think of you as…more? He shook his head. He was probably confused, yeah.

The sun eventually set, and you found yourselves having a few drinks outside in the moonlight. Almost everyone had left, but you weren’t one to leave a party when there was still alcohol left. And you needed it so very much at that moment.

Ever since Conor’s confession, you had struggled to look at him, let alone keep acting like everything was okay. He stood awkwardly besides you as well, hands on his pockets, waiting for a chance to talk to you. But you always curved him, trying to avoid the impossible.

Because you didn’t want him to know you were jealous, heartbroken. Because after all, you just were his pathetic best friend, whose job was to put on a smile every time he brought girls home and pretend it was all alright.

But moments don’t last forever, and eventually you felt a cold hand on the small of your back “Hey” Conor’s unmistakable whisper sent chills down your spine “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

You turned around, facing him for the first time in two hours. Yet you couldn’t keep eye contact for more than a second “Is everything alright?” He asked you, putting both of his hands back inside his pockets again.

“Sure” you lied, not to convincingly, much to your desperation.

Conor smiled lightly “Sure you’re not, you mean” he said. When he got no response from you, he used his hand to lift your chin so he could take a good look at those eyes. The eyes that had captured him since the very first time he saw them “It’s because of my date on Saturday” he stated, and you immediately knew you were blushing.

“That’s stupid” you lied again “You can go out with whoever you want, why would I be mad about it?” But you didn’t even believe yourself.

You were standing there, in the middle of a beautiful garden, surrounded by people you didn’t really want to be with, in front of someone who was supposed to be your best friend, but you didn’t know anymore.

You looked up at the sky, trying to hold back the tears. Still you could feel Conor’s eyes burning your skin “Y/N” he said, his voice giving you goosebumps on your arms again “Look at me”

His hand travelled to your waist, a gesture he always did when he wanted to get your attention “Y/N” he said again, softer this time “Look at me, princess”

You looked at him this time, unable to resist his sweetness, and feeling stupid again as you did so. Music started playing in the background. There you were, falling for someone who didn’t love you back once more, and falling in even harder, because things were not pathetic enough already.

Conor smiled “May I have this dance?” He asked you, completely out of the blue. You couldn’t suppress a small chuckle as you took his hand and let him guide you to the crowd. You were expecting to have the most awkward and heartbreaking conversation of your life but there you were, dancing with him as if nothing had happened.

You looked around, your mind momentarily dozing off as you looked at the garden around you. It was a truly beautiful night. The music was soft and mellow, and the suave breeze that hit your skin contrasted with the warmth you were feeling from being so close to Conor.

His arms were on your waist, as yours rested around his neck. You noticed that he was looking directly at you again, despite the fact that you were trying so hard not to lock eyes with him. But you weren’t made of stone “What are you looking at?” You laughed, as your eyes finally met Conor’s expecting ones.

“You” he said, matter-o-factly. You rolled your eyes playfully, making him smile as well “Alright, alright” he said, bringing your bodies closer and swinging a little bit more to the music. You could smell his strong cologne from his collar, and you suddenly felt the urge to close your eyes and just fall asleep on his welcoming chest.

“I was just thinking about how beautiful you looked tonight” he confessed, and you thought you had seen him blushing a little. You definitely went red.

“Don’t be silly” you said, but you couldn’t help but smile. You looked down at the small gap between your bodies.

“Hey, it’s true” he said, kissing your temple “I mean, you look beautiful every other day, but today you look especially gorgeous”

You tried to relax, but your heart was beating faster and faster “You don’t need to compliment me, Con. I wasn’t mad at you or anything”

“Then why didn’t you even look at me?”

You shrugged “Doesn’t matter”

“It matters to me” he said, lifting your chin again with his hand. But this time, his fingers remained pressed against your skin, holding your head up as he gazed into your deep eyes “I’m stupid, aren’t I?” He whispered.

You gave him a confused look “Why’d you think that?”

He sighed “Because all this time, I’ve had the girl I loved the most in front of my eyes, and I haven’t realized it until today” he said. Your heart stopped, then started beating faster and faster again as you felt yourself leaning closer to his lips.

When you were just a few millimeters away from his kiss, you paused “How…how can I believe you now, Conor?”

He said nothing. Instead, he cupped your face with his caring hand as you felt his lips on yours. You were taken aback for a moment before you felt his tongue moving inside your mouth, asking for an entrance that you happily conceded. Your hand immediately travelled to the collar of his shirt, then to the back of his head. His fingers on your waist were gently pushing your body closer against his, but you were already getting closer by yourself.

It wasn’t until you pulled away for air that you realized that not only had you been making out with someone in public, but that someone also happened to be your best friend. You licked your lips “I… I believe you now” you said, making him laugh out loud.

“I mean, I just couldn’t get enough from being your fake boyfriend” he smiled “I needed the whole package”

You laughed, happy to see that, for once, your feelings were mutual. You closed the gap between you again, pecking his lips shortly this time. When you pulled away, his eyes were still closed, and his lips were puckered.

“You idiot” you laughed, kissing him again. He smiled into your lips.

“I honestly could get used to this” he said.

You smiled “You better do”

feeling’s mutual

(an inadvertent new-year-themed sequel to this because of Her (@ilgaksu)

I know parties aren’t your scene, Cooper had said, but it’s a team requirement. And you can bring your boy! 

Andrew’s ‘boy’ isn’t the type to party either, but his interest in Andrew’s teammates almost rivals their curiosity about him. Andrew never had any intentions of passing on the invitation, which is probably why Cooper ended up going around him and to Neil directly.

That’s why Neil is here in New York at the Rebels’ New Year’s Eve party, sliding into the gap at Andrew’s side and handing over one of the drinks he just collected from the bar. We just have to stay until midnight, Neil had said earlier as he haphazardly looped his tie around his neck up in their hotel room.

He didn’t do a neat job on the knot - it looks that way now because Andrew has righted it into something suitable for the elegant tailored lines of the suit he’s wearing. Twice. Andrew messed it up in the middle himself, in order to wipe the amusement off of Neil’s face.

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