her curls were hell but i love her

Jeff Atkins - One Shot (Alternative Ending)

A/N: So this is the promised alternate ending. It’s still a little sad since it is 13 Reasons Why but Jeff lives! Yay! I hope you like it! :)

Hannah

I think back to the night of Jessica’s party and wonder if things would’ve gone differently if I hadn’t gone. If I hadn’t seen the things I saw. If I hadn’t done the things I did. Before going, I convinced myself that I could start over - that I could be a person that fit in. For a little while I did and it was the most fun I’d had in a long time. Of course you and Jeff were there, surrounded by your usual crowd. Yet you both still found the time to push Clay and I towards each other.

You

“Justin, Jessica’s looking for you in the kitchen.” You yelled over the music before you caught sight of Hannah.

“Hannah, hey!” You smiled crossing the room, careful not to drop the cup in your hand. “You made it. I’m loving the new hair.”

You were always extra affectionate when you drank and without even asking, you ran your fingers through her hair to full appreciate the natural curl of it before you hugged her.

“Thank you!” She smiled with a chuckle, returning your hug. “Someone’s been drinking, huh?”

“Hell yeah! It’s my turn. I was designated driver last week, this week it’s Jeff’s turn.” You laughed, motioning to your hubby in the corning talking to Zach and Monty.

“Well - that’s responsible.” She returned.

“Hey - Clay’s here, being his usual secluded self.” You smirked, as her cheeks turned a bright red. “You should go say hi and bring him out of his shell.”

“What?” Her eyes widened as if you’d just made the most outrageous statement she’d ever heard. “No. I - I wouldn’t want to bother him.”

“Y/N!” Jeff called from the backyard. “Zach thinks he can finally take you at beer pong!”

“That so Dempsey?” You yelled back with a laugh, then looked at Hannah with a smirk. “Only way this is going to be fair is if you catch up to me. Hannah’s going to take you on first!”

“Oh it’s on!” He laughed.

“Hannah! Hannah! Hannah!” Jeff and Monty started chanting getting the whole room to follow along.

Hannah smiled again, lowering her eyes to the ground.

“One game, just to get some liquid courage in you.” You laughed, placing a hand on her back as you lead her outside. “Then you go find Clay.”

She laughed, nodding her head as you joined the guys. Jeff wrapped his arm around you and she took one end of the table while Zach took the other.

—-

 As the night went on, Hannah disappeared into the crowd to hopefully find Clay. After beating Zach twice, you ended up making out with Jeff to celebrate your victories. With your arms around his neck, you grinded against him to the rhythm of the song. His hands ran up your thighs grabbing your ass through the fabric of your denim shorts. Breathing in the scent of him, you bit his bottom lip, sweeping your tongue across with with a smirk as you looked him in the eye.

The things this boy made you want to do to him…

“You’re totally spending the night at my house.” He whispered against your lips. “Tell your mom you’re staying at Sheri’s or something.”

“I’ll call her before we leave.” I smirked, kissing him again

As much as your mom loved Jeff, she would much quicker approve of you spending the night at your best friend’s house rather than your boyfriends, but - what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“Look - “ You motioned your head towards Hannah and Clay walking out to sit by the pool.”

Jeff smiled proudly, watching his friend laugh and giggle. “See, I do give good advice.”

“Yeah, when people actually understand your baseball analogies.” You laughed.

“Hey - they make sense okay? I understand them perfectly.”

“Of course you do baby, that’s what makes you so unique.“ You shook your head with smile, teasing him about the overuse of the word.

The two of them looked over to notice you staring and the two of you looked away quickly, with you nuzzling your face into his neck with giggling uncontrollably. His arms wrapped around your small frame, holding you against him as he laughed, your whole body shaking with his.

“Uh - oh” You sighed, watching as Troy walked over to bother them. “Go get him before he ruins everything.”

“On it!”

He ran over, physically picking Troy up off the ground to bring him back over to the ping pong table. You bit the corner of your lip, watching your lip as he held him up like it was nothing for him, all of his muscles rippling through his shirt.

Goddamn.

You shot Hannah and Clay a wink before Jeff’s lips were back on yours, his hands running up through your hair as he held your face.

“Seriously, I don’t know what it is, but you’re lookin extra good tonight. One more hour tops and I’m getting my hands on you.” He whispered, trailing his lips down to your neck.

You held back a moan as his hands ran down your curves again, holding you against his rock solid figure.

“Your hands are always on me.” You laughed, running your fingers through his hair as his tongue glided against your skin.

“You’re goddamn right.” He smirked, his tongue running across his bottom lip as he looked you up and down.

“You’re so bad!” Sheri laughed, playfully hitting your leg as you sat up on the kitchen counter. “This is like the third week in a row. It’s only a matter of time before your mom starts to think you’re a closet lesbian.”

“Who would want that right?” Courtney said, trying to join in with your laughter.

Both of you stopped laughing, your faces turning serious. Neither of you liked Courtney. She was two faced  and one of the most fake people you’d ever met.

Fuck off Courtney.” You replied, no humor in your tone.

Her jaw dropped at your blunt response and she turned around to walk away, almost knocking over Hannah who was coming into the kitchen. You could see the distraught look on her face so you waved her over.

“Hey. What happened? You and Clay were hitting it off.” You asked, noticing the tear stains on her cheeks.

“I screwed it up.” She sighed, shaking her head as she stared at the ground. “Just like I screw everything up.”

“Look. You two have been playing this game for too long.” You jumped down from the counter, cupping her face in your hands. “Give it a couple of minutes and go talk to him about it. Whatever happened - I’m sure it can be talked out. You have to go after what you want Hannah. Make things happen for yourself.”

Sherri nodded in agreement, “Otherwise you’ll go on hating life because things magically work out for you.”

She looked between the two of us and nodded. “Maybe I’ll call him tomorrow. I just want to go home. I’m sure he’s long gone by now.”

You smiled, lifting the corner of her lips into a smile which made her laugh. “That’s a start. Be assertive. That’s how I got Jeff.”

“It’s true.” You heard his voice before he wrapped his arm around your chest from behind. “I was an idiot 8th grader who was too scared to tell her and I guess she’d gotten word of it so one day after school, she marched right up to me, kissed me on the lips, and told me to ask her out. I knew right then that she was the one.”

Sheri and Hannah laughed. Sheri was there that day but Hannah looked at you in disbelief.

“Grab life by the balls, girl. It’s to short for all these games.” You advised with a laugh.

“Hey Sheri, you’re blocking me in.” Jeff spoke up again.

“Let me grab my stuff, I’m taking off anyway. Hannah if you want to head out I can give you a ride.” Sheri offered before they left the room.

“Where you going?” You asked, turning your head to look up at him.

“Thank you ma’am.” Jeff yelled after them. “Going on a quick beer run for the guys.” He answered as you turned around to lean against him.

“Want me to come with?” You asked, pressing kisses along the side of his neck.

“Not if you’re having fun babe. It’ll be super quick.” He laughed as you nibbled along his jawline.

“I have the most fun with you.” You smiled pulling away to take his hands in yours.

“Good answer.” He laughed, throwing an arm around you as he lead you through the crowd.

You waited outside for Shelley to get situated in her car. With your arms wrapped around Jeff’s waist, you looked up at him, smiling as he spoke to someone else across the yard. You always found yourself admiring him whenever you got the chance. He was just a beautiful man inside and out.

He noticed and smiled down at you, leaning down to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.

You laughed, taking one of his hands in yours. “You know what? Its way too nice out to drive. Let’s walk.”

“It’ll be quicker to drive.” He replied with a smile.

“So? We’ve got all night.” You said tugging on his arm.

He raised your arm up making you twirl before pulling you into his arms again, the look of love and adoration in his eyes making you blush. 

“Well when you put it that way.” He laughed.

You waved at Hannah and Sheri who were smitten watching the two of you.

“Drive safe!” You yelled out before you and Jeff started walking down the block. 


Hannah

As I sat and watched you and Jeff walking down the street - laughing, dancing, playing - I found myself hoping to have someone love me the way you two loved each other. But I had too much baggage. I was too damaged.

As I looked back on these events, I realized my mistakes. I wonder what would’ve happened if I’d listened to you. If I would’ve stayed longer at the dance or gone after Clay right away. I should’ve gone after what I wanted.

And so we come to the reason you’re listening to this tape.

You didn’t have to look out for me all of those times. Nobody else did. You showed me that was genuine people in the world. You showed me that there was such a thing as unconditional love. You showed me that there was such a thing as pure happiness.

And for that, I wanted to say thank you.

I hope you live out the life you’ve always wanted. If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you and Jeff. 


You

Your fingers brushed over the Walkman. Tears streamed freely down your face as the tape came to an end. You lifted your eyes to look across the field, immediately finding Jeff. As if sensing you looking, his gaze locked on yours and he blew you a kiss which you pretended to catch like you always did.

His smile brought a smile to your lips and you wiped away your tears. Listening to Hannah’s tapes made you realize just how precious life was. Just how precious the people around you were. Just how quickly they could be taken from you.

Baseball practice came to an end and you walked onto the field to jump into Jeff’s arms. He caught you, lifting you off the ground to spin you around. Every time you touched felt like the first even after all this time of being together.

Yet it felt better this time. You held onto him tightly like it would be the last time. You don’t know what you would’ve done if you lost Jeff. He was your reason for living and breathing. He your best friend. You’re soul mate.

 “Damn baby.” He laughed, putting you down. “I know you like the way I look in my game pants but…”

“Well you’re ass does look incredible.” You smiled as he threw his arm over your shoulder.

“I love you.” He laughed, pulling you into kiss your lips.

 “I love you baby.” You smiled resting your head against his chest to listen to the sound of his heart beating. “For now and forever.”


A/N: Also, if you have any requests for a Jeff imagine, let me know. :)

***As always, none of the gifs are mine. 

The Last All-Clear: (6)


Notes from Mod Bonnie

  • This story is a series of vignettes following the premise: Imagine if Jamie travelled through the stones, but instead of finding Claire in Boston he found himself having arrived years too early, when the War was still happening and Claire had yet to meet him… What would he do?”
  • Formatting note: Bolding in Jamie’s letters = underlining

Previously:

(Part 1) September 17, 1942: A Rusty Nail

(Part 2) December 3, 1942: Comb and Glove

(Part 3) 1943: Blood and Whisky

(Part 4) 1943-1944: Gifts and Ends

(Part 5) June, 1944: The Road 


June, 1944: The Ditch   


There, in that darkness with you, love, there was no fear in me. None. There was no worrying about stones, or time, or wars, or consequences. There was only the feel of you in my arms, for the first time in so many years; the feeling of my soul, reaching out to yours, and being accepted in kind. The intimacy of it was a blow and a caress sending me reeling, and everything went silent around us. I held you, stroked your back, cupped your head; felt your heartbeat against mine as ye wept and shook. I held on to you, lass, like I never would let go. Perhaps, I thought, I wouldn’t. 

You didna speak, so violent was the terror and relief within ye, but I myself could scarcely stop the words from tumbling out, incoherent and tear-choked as they were. I had enough sense left to move from language to language—Latin, Greek, Gàidhlig, Hebrew, the ones you wouldna ken, or very little— but I was able to speak my heart aloud to you, and that itself was relief beyond telling.



“You will survive this day, my heart.” 

“You will survive and go on to do so much more than you ever imagined. You’ll be kind and brave and reckless and wild and wonderful. Happy. Free. I promise you.”

“Even the suffering, the horrors, you’ll bear with grace. You’re a fighter. You overcome. I’m so—so very proud to be your husband.” 

Her husband. Lord, that he might be given the grace to be her husband again. He pulled her closer, breathed deep, his hammering heart breaking for the millionth time to hear her own breath calmer, slowing. 

“I miss you, mo Sorcha.” 

“I love you.” 

She couldn’t have known the words, but she gave a little whimpering sigh and pressed her face closer into his chest. He closed his eyes tight and didn’t bother to stifle the sob in his throat. 

“I love you, and no other.” 

“I promise I will find you, wait for you and the bairn, no matter how long it takes.”

“Be brave,” he heard himself saying in English, in his own voice, brushing his lips against her forehead. “Be brave, Claire, and have hope in the joy to come.” 



When the fingers of dawn began to creep into the ditch, you were still in my arms, fast asleep. I hadn’t slept, for I couldn’t bear to look away from your face. I was happy. No matter else might come, I had had that night with you, a night in which you would not have been alone. 

And then, I heard them. 



People shouting above the roar of motors, close at hand. Carefully dislodging himself from Claire, he grabbed the hilt of his knife and eased up to peer over the edge of the ditch. Nothing and no one in sight, but a breeze carried a word or two on the wind: Americans. THE Americans that she’d said had found her and brought her to safety. Only, they weren’t coming closer. They were on the other path, going the wrong direction at the crossroads. 

“Come back,” he muttered, fixing his eye on the distance with all his might as though he could summon them by sheer will. “Come back….come this way….damn you, come back…”

The panic was roaring within him, heightening with every passing second. They weren’t coming. He could get her back to the camp himself, of course, but why had the goddamn memory changed? He had been so relieved, the previous night, to find that things had played out as she’d foretold, but something…. something had gone wrong. Something was different. What had he done to change— 

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ

It was like a blow to the head, but he didn’t have time to stop and marvel. One moment only, he spared, that to kneel over Claire once more, look at her, and kiss her sleeping face. 

“I love you, mo nighean donn.” 

Then he was gone. 




Perhaps you’ll have understood at once, Claire, pieced together the conclusion of the tale long before I myself did. Perhaps, to a person raised with Films and so verra many books about fantastical happenings, it would have occurred to ye sooner. 

But how great was the shock that tore through my own simple mind, not to mention the abject relief, to comprehend the truth….That I perhaps couldna have changed events even had I tried; that things set in the motion of history might be—for better or worse— unstoppable, certain. While it makes my heart ache with regret, thinking that our efforts to stop the rebellion will have been for naught from the outset, in THIS case, love, it is for the better; for better than I could ever have imagined. 

My being alongside you, these years, wasna a divergent path, Claire. My coming through the stones and finding young Claire Randall during the War: that wasna a course of events separate from the ones you knew. I— Danton—was always a part of your story. Even if, perhaps, you had your reasons not to think of or remember him since, he always was there, beginning in 1942. There was never a version of your life in which you did not stitch his arm; in which he did not offer you whisky after that unfortunate operation; in which he did not become your friend in camp. As astounding as it is for my own faculties of comprehension to reconcile, I was always there. Here.

And I was always in that ditch with you, mo nighean donn. Why it is that ye never remembered me; that your lingering, terrifying memory of that night was of being completely alone? That, I shan’t even attempt to comprehend until the day I can ask you of it myself and ken the truth from your own lips; but you weren’t alone. I was always there with ye, holding you through the night

and it was always a ragged, bearded Frenchman that ran after the Americans and told them of two of their countrymen, dead in a German attack, always his word that made them hurry down the adjacent road to see for themselves; always me that made sure you were found. 


“Hey, Bill! Boys, there’s a woman over here!” 

“Alive??” 

“I think so! Ma’am? Ma’am?” 

He hung back at the fringes of the troupe, close enough, only, that he could see all that occurred. If they laid a foul hand on her….

“Ma'am, are you okay?” 

She was awake, and—Oh, love…. Have courage, my heart— as frantic and terrified as when he’d first found her the night before. ‘Helpless.’ ‘Alone.’  

“Ma’am, can you hear me?” the soldier kept saying. “What the hell are you doing down here all alone?”

Jamie’s heart broke to see her curl up with her hands about her head. But this is how it must be, Fraser. This is the morning she remembers, the way she remembers it.  

The soldier was insistent, agitated with concern as he tried to get her to speak. “Ma’am? Ma’am?”

“Cool it, Jimmy,” the other man said, “the poor lady’s been through hell. The English camp ain’t far off—Let’s take her with us and see if that’s where she came from.” 

“Here, ma’am, it’s alright,” the man Jimmy said, more gently. “Put your arms around my neck. We’ve got you now, okay? It’s all over.”

Jamie kept his distance as they trekked back down the forest road; kept far back as they approached camp; stayed hidden in the woods as he watched the Americans waiting outside the fence. The last sight he had of her was her head still bobbing on the American’s shoulder, her hands fisted in his shirt as the Nightwing guards ushered the party in to safety. Then, she was gone. 

He didn’t cry; he didn’t feel the churning of regret and pain that he perhaps would have expected. He took the time only to find that patch of woods through which he’d left camp the night before. His pack was there, just where he’d dropped it. Shouldering it, he cast one more look at the place that held her. 

“Until we meet again, mo chridhe.” 



Will you believe that what I felt as I left, and what I feel now, all these weeks later, is happiness? 

For, as much as the memory of that night’s fears shall haunt me, always, I’m more at peace, today, than I have been these many, many years. For I ken, at last, why it is I was brought to this time. It wasna a mistake; wasna a twisted blow of fate. It was for that very day, to see you safe. 

Had I not been there, had someone not gone to fetch the Americans, help might never have found you. You might well have lain there in that ditch until you were found and shot by the Germans. I’m on my knees thanking the heavens for guiding my footsteps to where they were meant to go. I couldna have known or planned it on my own merits, but yet somehow I was led to where ye needed me; all the way from the stones to France, through all the years and to that very ditch on that very night. 

The relief within me, Claire, at that knowledge, is balm beyond imagining. Call it pride, call it selfishness, but to know that my time near you was not in vain, that there WAS some purpose, some role I was meant to play for my wife’s sake—I’m grateful for it. I’m so very, very grateful. It makes every moment, every year that I otherwise might have deemed ‘lost’, have been worthwhile; precious, even. 

And now, I’m sitting on English soil—sand, rather— James Fraser, again, respectable Scottish stowaway. Something within me knew that it remained my time to be parted from ye, to leave camp, just as I’d planned. If you were to remember my presence there that night, the intimacy, connection, yes, the intimacy of the heart between us in those hours….Even if nothing in the events could be changed….No, far better to allow myself to fade from your presence, before we could have the chance to properly talk about that night, or make amends for the rift that preceded it. 

Sitting here on this beach, looking back across the channel, and even with the knowledge that there remain four years more in this purgatory of waiting,  I am filled with exquisite peace. It will be like claws in my skin, waiting for 1948, agonizing as to whether you too will be sent to the wrong year, but ‘tis a pain that I can bear in the blessed assurance that you will be well until then, and that I’ve done what I was meant to do, for your sake and the bairn’s.  

I will see you soon again. 



C. E. B. Randall

Camp Nightwing, France

1 July 

I will not put to paper what occurred that night on the road; what happened to those innocent men. I never shall. 

But one thing I must write out, else refusing to acknowledge it will drive me mad: 

I passed out alone, in that ditch; I woke up alone. But I dreamed. I dreamed that strong, familiar arms held me throughout the night. I dreamed of my own name, over and over, said with such tenderness. Even more, I dreamed of strange words, words in languages I couldn’t even name, but words that spoke of warmth and care. I dreamed that they were words of love, so deep that I believed them, without knowing what they said; so visceral that when the Airborne men found me, I was still reeling from the sensations awoken in me.

It isn’t like one has any control over dreams, but what I must get out of my mind, confess, even if I later burn this page:  

The arms weren’t Frank’s. Nor did I want them to be. 


anonymous asked:

Hollstein 23 (for the ships)

Hell, even you deserve better. Did I though? Do I deserve better after the century of things I have done. She doesn’t even know the half of it. Hell, she barely knows any of it. Would she’d stay if she knew the stories. The things Mattie and I used to do as games to lure our victims. Would she still be here at the end of my true tale? The tale of murder and death that were caused by my hands.

“Carm?”

Carmilla shook her head and looked towards Laura, who had just joined her on the couch. They had been living together now for two years. Laura was fully invested in her studies at the University of Toronto, but was grateful for a night off.

“You okay? You seem a little distance.”

“I’m good, Cupcake.”

Laura handed her a mug of hot chocolate. It was snowing outside and Carmilla was just happy for Laura’s warmth on nights like this. Her body produced it’s own warmth now, but nothing compared to Laura being next to you. 

“What movie do you want to watch?” Laura asked, remote in hand.

“It doesn’t matter to me, Cupcake.”

“For once I wish you’d just pick.”

Carmilla smirked. “Not my style.”

Laura chuckled. “I know.”

“Besides no matter what I’d say, you’d choose anyway.”

“That’s not true.”

Carmilla gave Laura a look causing Laura to smile. “Okay it is true, but only because you let me.”

“I know. I’ve always spoiled you. So what Disney movie am I sitting through tonight?”

“Hmm.” Laura thought for a moment going through their options on Netflix. Carmilla stared at her mesmerized. She is so beautiful and her heart has always been so pure. I wonder if she has the same heart or if she was given a new one to be reborn. I’d say she’s innocent, but I know the things we’ve done. The stories we’ve told. The world we’ve created for ourselves. I wonder if she misses me as the vampire I once was or is she happy, like me, that I’m finally mortal and can live out the rest of my days with her.

“How about Beauty and the Beast?”

“Whatever you want, Laura.” Carmilla stood off the couch. “I’m going to make some popcorn. You can start without me.”

Carmilla walked to their kitchen, forgetting there was no wall to separate them. Laura watched as she pulled the bag out of the pantry before putting it into the microwave. Carmilla stared at the wall, lost in her thoughts. Laura stood behind her and wrapped her arms around Carmilla’s waist.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You seem a little lost in thought there. Anything I can do to help?”

Carmilla sighed and turned in Laura’s arms. She rested her head against her shoulder. “Not really. Just thinking about things.”

“Code for the past.”

“And what if it is?”

“I’m here for you regardless.” Laura pulled back and cupped Carmilla’s cheeks. “You know that right?”

“I do.”

“And when you think about the past, I know it’s before our past. It’s the vampire past before you knew I existed. It’s the dark stuff that you never want to share because you’ll think I’ll run, but I’ve already fought four gods, died and brought back to life. I don’t think a story or two could ever make me run away from you.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you. And since I love you, that means I love all parts of you. Even the parts that you don’t like about yourself. But know that if you ever want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

“I don’t want you to see that part of me.”

“Why?”

“Because you will run away.”

“Carmilla, I would never. I already know some of it and I’m not stupid. You were a vampire and every vampire does what it needs to do to survive and I know for you that was blood. I’m sure you had plenty of victims.”

The microwaved beeped signaling their finished snack. Carmilla backed up and opened the door. She grabbed a bowl, emptying the popcorn into it. Laura continued to stare at her.

“Carm, you know I will never think of you the way you think I will.”

“Which is what?”

“You’re not a monster, Carmilla. At one point, you might have been, but I know you are no longer. I will never think of you as one because you were always there for me and you always protected me. A monster would not do that.”

Carmilla fought the small smile, but Laura caught glimpse of it. 

“How was I lucky enough to fall into your dorm room?” Carmilla asked.

“I guess the dean thought we’d be a good match.”

“Mother was stupid. She saw you fighting, but thought I would have more strength than you. That I could power over you.” Carmilla wrapped her arms around Laura’s waist, leaning in.

“Boy was she wrong,” Laura whispered against Carmilla’s lips before taking them. They kissed for a moment, Laura domineering the interaction.

“I love you,” Laura said, pulling back.

“I love you too, Laura.”

“Just remember, we’re here together. We survived together. The past is the past, but we have a whole future together to do whatever we want. We get to make new memories that can fill the darkness of the past together.”

Carmilla smirked and followed Laura back to their living space. “Can I ask you one thing?” 

“You can always ask me anything.”

“Why did I deserve better?”

“What?”

“When we first met and you absolutely hated me, why did I deserve better?”

“Because it didn’t take rocket science to see your pain. Yes you were rude and uncaring, but I just figured you had depression or used other people and made fun of them to make yourself feel better, but that didn’t mean you didn’t deserve a life where you didn’t have to do that. And yes you were a fiend from hell then, but I believe everyone in the world deserved better. Remember, I was a naive, provincial girl.”

Carmilla smirked. “You were and I was head over heels in love with you.”

“Were?”

“Well, still am.”

“You better be.”

Carmilla smirked. She pulled Laura closer to her, forgetting her thoughts of the past as Laura curled to her side. My home. My happy place. It was always here and were finally free. We deserved better and we finally got what we deserved.

Injured Football Player Ch 6

Summary: After the fight with Bucky, the reader retreats to her family’s ranch and reaches out to her older cousin, Wanda. 

Word Count: 1192

A/N: I hit y’all with a lot of angst on the last chapter, and this one has a little less angst, but still angst! Don’t worry, the fluff is making a return, I promise! If y’all want to be added to the tag list, just ask! Enjoy!!

(Chapter 5)


 You ended up driving to the ranch. You called your cousin, Wanda telling her what happened.

 “I’ll go get you some stuff, and be out there. Is there anything specific you need?” Wanda asked.

 “Just my laptop and my chargers. I need to do work out here,” you wiped your face.

 “Are you sure that you want to be working?”

 “I need to keep my mind off everything.”

 “Okay, sweetheart. I’m heading to the house right now. I’ll be at the ranch in two hours.”

 “Thanks, Wand. Oh! Don’t tell James where I am.”

 “I wont.”


 Bucky had called your phone for the 30th time. He sighed and hung up. He heard the garage door open and close. He jumped up, “Y/N?” He saw that it was Wanda; he ran up to her, “Where is she? Is she okay?”

 “She is fine,” she walked past him and up to your closet.

 “Wanda, where is Y/N? I need to talk to her, she isn’t answering my phone calls,” Bucky followed her up the stairs.

 “Barnes, you are lucky I don’t kick your ass for what you did to, Y/N,” she whipped around and looked at him, “How could you do that to her? After everything she has done for you, you treat her like that?”

 Bucky ran his hand through his hair, “God, I know. Wanda, I have to talk to her, please, just tell me where she is,” he had tear filled eyes.

 Wanda felt so bad for him. He obviously wanted to make things right with you, but she made you a promise, “Bucky, I promise her I wouldn’t say anything. But I will tell her what you said.”

 Bucky sat on the bed with his face in his hand. Wanda was walking out of the room when she stopped and walked over to him, “I will talk to her, okay?”

 He nodded and sniffled, “Thank you, Wand. Tell her I love her?”

 She smiled, “Of course I will.”


 Two hours later, Wanda pulled up to the front of the ranch. She walked in, expecting to find you curled up on the couch, but instead you were in the kitchen cooking.

 "Y/N, what the hell are you doing?“ she asked as she set the stuff down.

 "Baking cookies. Then I was thinking a pound cake,” you were wiping your hands on a towel.

 "Hey,“ she turned you around, “kid, stop.”

 You looked at her and started to cry, “Wanda, I don’t know what to do!”

 She hugged you tight, “Shh, it is gonna be okay.”

 "I just got so mad at him, and I threw my engagement ring at him. I have never taken it off since he gave it to me. And I just threw it like it meant nothing to me. And he didn’t even seem to care that I did. Like he was happy I actually left,“ you cried on your cousin’s shoulder.

 She pulled away, and looked at you, "Y/N, he is an absolute mess. He looks terrible. When I walked in he came running because he thought it was you. He begged me to tell him where you were.”

 "You didn’t tell him did you?“ The last thing you wanted was Bucky showing up here.

 Wanda shook her head, "No, I didn’t. But I told him I would talk to you,” she led you into the living room, “Y/N, he messed up, and he knows it. He loves you more than anything in this world! And when you left, he realized what he had said.”

 You sighed and leaned back on the couch. You pinched the bridge of your nose to try and keep from crying.

 Wanda grabbed your hand, “Babe, he was upset about his arm. You know he didn’t mean those things about you and your relationship. The two of you are literally the perfect couple! Come on, just call him and hear him out.”

 "Wanda,“ you shook your head.

 "He is lost without you,” she handed you your phone, “Call him.”

 You sighed and took the phone. You were nervous to call Bucky. What if he was mad that you haven’t answered any of this calls or texts? Or that you threw you insanely gorgeous engagement that Bucky designed, at him? That you stormed out of the house the two of you bought together when he was drafted?

 You finally hit the call button. It rang twice, “Y/N, baby,” Bucky answered, “I’m so sorry baby, please come home.”

 "James,“ you let out a sigh, "I can’t.”

 "Y/N, please, I am so sorry. Please, tell me what I can do to make this up,“ he sounded like he was crying.

 "James, I think it’s best that we just spend some time apart,” you fought the tears.

 "Baby, please, don’t say that. Y/N, I need you. What can I say? What can I say to get you to come home?“

 "I’m not coming home.”

 "Where are you? I have to see you.“

 You shook your head, "No, James. You and I need time apart.”

 "No, no, time apart isn’t what we need. Can I please just talk to you, Y/N, baby,“ he let out a soft sob.

 You broke down, "I can’t. James, you said that everything was ruined. The things you said were so heartbreaking.”

 "I know! I am so sorry. Please, please, tell me where you are. I have to see you,“ he pleaded.

 "Bye, James,” you hung the phone up.

 Wanda walked back in and sat next to you. You laid your head in her lap and sobbed. She tried to calm you down, but you were completely heartbroken.

 After an hour, Wanda took you to your bedroom and tucked you into bed. When she closed the door, she let out a sigh, “I’ve gotta do something,” she mumbled.

 For the next couple days, she went back and forth with herself, debating wither or not to call him. After another midday melt down, Wanda put you back in your bed, she walked to the other end of the house and pulled out her phone. She dialed the phone number and sighed.

 It rang a couple times then there was an answer, “Wanda, is everything okay?” Bucky sounded panicked, “Is Y/N okay?”

 "We are at the ranch,“ she sighed.

 "I’ll be there in an hour,” Bucky said as he pretty much sprinted out the door to his truck.

 "Barnes, you have to promise you will not tell Y/N I told you we were here!“

 "Wanda, I promise. I just have to see her.”

 "You better make up some sort of bullshit that you wanted to come out here or something!“

 "I will think of something. Thank you, Wanda.”

 "I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for Y/N. She literally just cried herself to sleep. You better make this right, because she is the best thing that has ever happened to you.“

 Bucky let out a sigh. He hated that you were crying, especially being that he was the reason. He speed down to the highway, "I’m on my way right now.”

 "Drive safe,“ Wanda hung up, "I really hope this works.”


Tag List:

@learisa @acunningstargazer @jughead-archie-imagines @highway2hell-24-7 @ria132love @kennadance14 @kindnesswins @davros2004

Black Eyed Monster - Hour Six

Originally posted by fider131

Series Masterlist

Summary: Before her sixth injection, the reader escapes her shackles, trying to run away from the monsters in her head that are being created by the mixture of human and demon blood….

Request: No

Pairing/Characters: Dean x Demon!Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Crowley (mentioned), Monsters (in her head) 

Word Count: 1281

Warnings: angst, delusions, injections of blood, language, physical abuse

A/N: if you’re wondering, yes the gif is supposed to be like that. Other note, this part is pretty graphic. If you guys get confused with this chapter, just ask me in my messages and i’ll explain what you didn’t understand. There’s a lot going on. Also, I’m loving all the messages and comments about this series :) you guys are literally so amazing! 


“It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real,” (Y/N) whispered to herself over and over again. The dungeon had gone dark once the boys left to figure out a plan on how to conquer the images that were floating around (Y/N)’s head. Her heart was beating a million miles per hour. Everywhere she looked, shadows danced past her, twirling around her. Her hands were shaking, making the chains she was in jiggle. She wanted Dean, but he was nowhere to be found and it wasn’t like she could go to him. Only 3 more injections, she thought to herself.

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anonymous asked:

I have a prompt. Daryl and Carol took the next step and the thing that surprised more Carol is that even though she always thought Daryl would be reluctant to public displays of affection he's the one that's always touching her now. Like... when they are on missions he shyly takes her hand, or when they have to go on different missions he kisses and hugs her goodbye, or he randomly kisses her for no reason when there are other people around and tells her 'I love you' very often

It was strange. 

Something Carol had never been used to having before. 

Affection. 

Least of all public affection - well other than the territorial kind.

And the last person she expected to be so openly affection was Daryl Dixon…but oh how wrong she was.

Like now for example, sat with a group of the people they’d grown to call family, Daryl just arriving back from an days hunt. He comes straight over to Carol and without hesitation settles next to her around the fire, scooping a large hand under her jaw, pulling her in for a soft and tender kiss. 

Carol is hyper aware of the raise brows and widened eyes of the group, it isn’t the first time he’s kissed her in front of the group but it’s certainly the longest.

He seems lost in the moment, her kiss like a drug to him and all he wants is more. 

It’s Carol who eventually pulls away, wanting to know what the hell came over him. 

“Missed ya,” he rasped as if he could read the question on her mind.

Carol giggled then, like a school girl no less, kissing him softly once more. 

She could vaguely see Tara out of the corner of her eye, grinning like a fool at the intimate pair. Daryl had curled his arm easily around her waist, so their thighs were pressed together, his mouth rested easily against the revelled skin of her shoulder, fingers interlocked over the top of hers. 

Carol tilted her head to look down at him, Daryl looking back up through his bangs innocently. 

“I love ya,” he murmured against her skin as if he was tattooing it there. He said that far more often than she ever thought he would. He was even the first to say it, it was after a close call with a walker while they were out on a run. Scared the ever loving shit out of him, losing her, it wasn’t an option for him. He loved her and he wasn’t going to ever deny it or hide it.

“I love you too,” Carol smiled, resting her head contently against his. 

Daryl had reason behind being so openly loving towards her. Other than just the reason of he can so he will. 

His whole life, he’d been deprived of that basic human need for love from the two people who were supposed to shower him with it. Tender touches were foreign and unknown to him, until Carol. Gradually she broke down every wall, helped him overcome every fear, and now he craved it. Craved her mainly. The way her skin was silky soft beneath his; the way her lips curled into a small smile every time he told her he loved her; the way she melts into his hugs when they say goodbye; the way she grips his hand just as tight when they’re are on dangerous run.

He’d never known the need for something so bad. Didn’t think he was capable of such love and affection. 

But for this woman? 

For this woman he would be anything. 

concept: trans girl kaz

-she used to go by another name. not a soul knows it anymore. she made sure of it.

-she’s always taken in the rejects and the runaways, but she helps a few of them out personally. there was one-beck, they were called-who learned to always keep a small knife tucked in the hem of their pants, just in case. another, one a little younger, had learned from kaz how to plait their hair just so. no one else had taught her, kaz had said. it sounded almost defensive. 

-many found an irony in the cruel barrel boss’s kind reputation among the trans kids of ketterdam, but if any of them were in trouble, they knew kaz brekker will come at their call.

-one day a girl arrived among the dregs. kaz, until that point, hadn’t bothered to question…other aspects of her identity. she got enough questions as it was, and it wasn’t like she was particularly interested in the finer points of romance. but she was so beautiful. her name was imogen, and she taught kaz a few things herself. soon enough, though, kaz realized she couldn’t keep this up. as beautiful as the girl was, kaz wasn’t ever going to be enough for her, and she would never be enough for kaz to tear down her mask. only the lost children, the quiet runaways, the softhearted scoundrels ever even saw a peek beneath. so she moved on.

-but then there was another girl. and another.

-finally, one broke down her walls.

-she was a suli girl, one with long, dark hair, and a face her clients called “exotic” and other words kaz noticed she shivered at. most of all, she was skilled and precise, something kaz knew her haphazard band of thieves and scoundrels needed. a contract signed, a few item’s plucked from the brothel’s shelves, and inej ghafa was a member of the dregs.

-kaz learned things from her, too. she learned she was not infallible. she learned she was not immovable. she learned she was not really the cold and careless girl she presented herself as.

-she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen. kaz knew that in ravka, things were different. there were fabrikators everywhere and, rumor had it, a tailor who could help you-for a price, of course. but kaz had known many girls, and even disregarding the ever-present factor of someone deciding, suddenly , that kaz “wasn’t for them,” or one of the million other excuses, she wasn’t sure that her walls coming down was a good thing. after all, what was so terrible that it had to be contained?

-and so between her fear of both facing inej and facing herself, kaz brekker was silent. thank god inej wasn’t.

-there was the day, while kaz was writing checks and skimming through ledgers, that inej’s laughter at the antics of the crows in the window shot her clear through the heart. ”don’t feed the crows,” she said. what she meant was, don’t feed me, don’t feed this aching want. she meant, i can’t take this. she meant, i can’t take you.

-”don’t feed the crows,” she said.

-there was the day, while kaz was pushing down tear, that she prepared herself to cut her hair. it was necessary, she told herself. practical. long hair gave opponents something to grab, another way to control her. this was her choice, she reminded herself. and besides, the feeling of hair on her neck, damp with sweat, always sent a chill up her spine. 

-a creak of the door startled her. “i’ll be fine,” she said. what she meant was, i won’t be fine if you try to help, if you run your fingers through my hair and tug out the tangles and coif and pin in just so. she meant, my want is a wound that has me bleeding on the floor. she meant, inej, i love you.

-”i’ll be fine,” she said.

-slowly, she felt herself falling. inch by inch, piece by piece, the mask was dissolving, the walls collapsing. and there was nothing she could do but watch it happen. every laugh, every smile brought her closer to the brink. kaz wasn’t sure if this was heaven or hell. 

-there was the night, while kaz was lying in her bed, that kaz finally said what she meant.

-from then on things were better. not good, but better. four hands were better than two at pinning and cinching and curling and scrubbing. and, of course, at stealing. they were known ketterdam over as twin scourges of the night. word got around never to underestimate two girls, one in a suit and the other in leather armor and a cowl. never judge them by their tinkling laughs or their slowly batting eyelashes.

-kaz had learned plenty. but she still had so much to teach the men of the barrel.

your tongue is a universe and my heart is a midnight city of children pointing upwards

dear Em,

for some reason
we keep it really cold at work
&
we all wear jackets or blankets
I always bring two because
sometimes it’s that cold
&
you know I hate the cold

I didn’t think anything of it
she was cold
she didn’t bring a jacket
I bring two
we keep it cold
so I let her have my peacoat

the one I bought in 2007 or 2008
I wanted to look like an old poet
even though I wasn’t

the one I would give you
when we went somewhere
&
they kept it really cold

the one I never let go

I didn’t think anything of it
she’s nice
pretty
probably too young for me
but when I took it off
it felt lighter
because it didn’t

have my heart on the sleeve

she put it on
snuggled in
I couldn’t tell if her smile
or the jacket was oversized
she had on sunset lens
cheap sunglasses
&
a hair band with high pants
hippie shirt halloween
light brown curls with hints
of blond rested over her shoulders

I remembered when a girl like
that wore my jacket
&
it wasn’t halloween
you were nice
you were pretty
we were too young
for each other

Love,
I see pretty girls
I could meet everywhere
they always have a whisper
of something only you have
&
I don’t know where I’m at
I’m somewhere heaven
is close enough to touch
&
hell is close enough to inhale
I’m just not close enough
to touch happiness
or smell incinerated flesh
I think they call this numb
if numb means this is how
clouds feel when they’re told
not to show up to work
because it’s a pretty day
if numb means to only
be there when you’re needed
but to never be wanted

limbo isn’t a place
limbo is how hope
slips from the dictionary
&
seeps into your bloodstream
through your feet
while balancing strength
of holding on
or letting go
&
being torn between
what you want
what you need
&
finding whatever’s
left

to weigh down your sleeve

love,
bryan

Make Up Secks ft. Dean

I waited outside her door. I’ve been waiting for five damn minutes. I don’t even know why I’m here. I always find myself in this same position. Except for this time, I’m actually knocking on the door.

It’s been a month since we’ve talked and course it’s my fault. I’m in the wrong and now I have to fix things.

She finally opened it after an additional two minutes. Her face showed no emotion, unlike mine. I wore a more determined look. and I was.

“What do you want?” She shot me a death glare.

She was wearing my shirt. The one that I was looking for before I left to come here. Fucking ironic.

I decided to not answer her and just look into her house. I remembered when she used to let me in with a smile on her face. Now, since I broke her…

“Dean I don’t have time for your stupid shit. What is it?” She crossed her arms.

With a heavy sigh, I brushed pass her and into her house. She couldn’t really get mad. With the things that we did in this house, I could be here whenever I wanted.

I sat down on the couch and watched as she closed and locked the door. She leaned on the wall and faced me. Still no expression whatsoever.

I hated when she had to act like this. But what I hated most was that I was the cause for it.

“Dean.” She said.

“I’m sorry.” I finally said.

“I don’t want to hear it. You cheated. Why should I forgive you? I thought that you said you’ll never break my heart. But you did. I don’t want to forgive you.”

She covered her face with her small hands. She was crying but all that I could do was watch. I’m sure that she didn’t want me to touch her. But believe me, I wanted to…so fucking bad.

My heart couldn’t help but ache in pain. I felt so fucking worthless, like an asshole. I was drunk and stupid..

“Fuck it.” I mumbled, getting up and pulling her into my arms. She didn’t hug back but she began to cry louder.

“Y/n I swear I’m sorry. I promise you that it wasn’t in my intentions to cheat. I’m always working and baby shit gets hard. It’s even harder now without you. You are my number one and I would never hurt you on purpose. I just want for you to forgive me. Pl-”

She backed away from me. “Really Dean?! You really think that I’m supposed to just forgive you?!”

As much as I wanted to nod, I shook my head no and looked down. I closed my eyes trying to prevent tears from falling and hoped that she would just forgive me because I meant every word that I said.

“And please don’t call me dean. I’m Hyuk to you..”

I slowly moved my hand in front of my face since I felt tears rolling down. The fact that she was the only woman and person that could make me cry, was enough.

“I’m hurting just like you baby. I need you.” I sniffled and cleared my throat, I couldn’t look like I showed up to her house to cry. Not that that was a problem considering the fact that I was in love.

Out of no where, I was embraced into a hug. I opened my eyes and a smile automatically stretched across my lips.

“Baby?” I wiped my face.

She smacked her lips. “Shut up and fuck me. You got some making up to do.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. I picked her up by her waist and carried her into her bedroom. Just like always, her lights were dimmed. Just how I like it.

Suddenly, she pulled me down onto the bed and flipped us over, straddling me.

“You wait a whole fucking month?” She asked referring to me taking a month to not apologize.

I opened my mouth to say something but she quickly covered it with her hand. “I don’t wanna hear it.” She began taking off my clothes.

After I was in nothing but my underwear, she looked me in my eyes.

“My turn.” She grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet, turning her back to me.

First, I took her shirt off and then her yoga pants. God her body was beautiful. Her tan skin…drove me insane.

She went over to her dresser to grab something. A scrunchie I’m guessing. After she tied up her hair, she turned to face me.

“Damn.” I said as I examined her lingerie.

“Take this off too.” She said pointing at the remains.

I was mesmerized as she began to move forward. I’m not gonna lie, my hands were shaky. I really had all of this to myself.

Slowly, I peeled the black see through fabric off. all while letting my cold fingers give a shock to her skin. the goosebumps that formed, showed me how much of an anticipating individual she was.

“Mhm.” I hummed, looking at the fine foreign woman in my life.

Unexpectedly, she pushed me on the bed and straddled me. “Cheat on me again and I will kill you okay?” I could see in her eyes that she meant every word.

I nodded and flipped us over so that I was on top of her in between her legs. “I promise baby.” I passionately tongue kissed her and her other set of lips.

As we kissed, she slid my underwear off with her feet. Realizing that the both of us were naked, I positioned my hardened member and her entrance. She let a soft moan escape her lips as I filled her with each inch. I sat there a moment, letting her get used to me again.

“You’re so fucking wet. Goddam y/n..” I grunted into her ear.

I kissed her one more time and then, I started stroking and grinding upward into her, hitting her spot. She wrapped her legs around my waist and stroked my hair.

“Faster Hyuk…!” She moaned.

I did as she said. Right when I sped up my pace, she started moaning uncontrollably. The sound of her moaning, our skin slapping each other, and the knocking on her wall from both the headboard and her next door neighbor was music to my ears.

She felt so good. I couldn’t believe myself and how I went so long without her. Feeling her tightness around me was like a breath of fresh air. Like I had been locked up, unable to breath correctly because she wasn’t around for me to fuck, love, and care for.

“Y/n..” I groaned as she licked and sucked my neck. There were most definitely gonna be hickeys there.

A few minutes later, we slowed down. I let her get up just so we could get in another position that I couldn’t wait for.

She got on her knees and bent over, I never understood why she arched her back until she told me the third time we had sex. I can admit, I was fucking innocent back then.

It was for a better fucking. And she could hold the position so well and so long, it was what drove me to make her scream her throat out.

I pushed myself into her, earning a long satisfying moan from her. “I love you…Hyuk…” She gripped the sheets and closed her eyes.

I noticed that her eyes would roll back and she would actually drool when I go my deepest and slowest. That was the best reaction that I got from her during sex.

I rubbed all over her body while she threw it back. Damn, it was a sight. The way she would move forward and then have her ass meet my hips..man.
*
An hour later, we came together. We showered and had another round. Fast forward to now and we were cuddling.

“Mochaaa..?” I poked her.

“Hmm?” She was almost sleep, curled up into my arms.

“Promise me that we won’t break up ever again. If we get into an argument we need to settle the shit then and there. Enough with being petty.” I gave her my pinky.

“Promise.” She took it.

I moved her curls from the side of her face and left kisses from her forehead, to her lips, to her neck. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” She grabbed my hand and kissed it.

That night, I spent at her house. I’m lucky as hell to have this girl.

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

just a little something..you know 😛

–request box open af

anonymous asked:

Fic prompt post-one breath? Naturally heavy msr but feel free to include as much maggie and melissa as you can 😆😆

i decided to make this as different from my other one breath fics (x, x, x) as possible. except for a couple things. happy thanksgiving!


This is undoubtedly the awkwardest Thanksgiving Scully’s ever attended. 

For one, it’s the first Thanksgiving without her father, which was bound to be strange. They’ve usually had mismatched Thanksgivings anyway, with Melissa almost consistently on the move and Charlie’s estrangement, but she and Bill were usually regular occurrences. This year, the number stays balanced with Melissa making an appearance instead of Captain Scully. Bill had planned to spend Thanksgiving with his girlfriend’s family - he’s told them of his plans to propose to her soon - but ended up flying in when he got the news of her return.

Which is another thing that makes this awkward. It’s the first holiday since her abduction.

Scully has consistently felt a little awkward since she’s woken up. Everyone has been treating her like she might break. Her mother, who had never been one to coddle when they were kids, has been reacting much in the same way she did when Charlie was recovering from his hospital stay from pneumonia when he was seven - hovering and piling on blankets. Bill, always a gentle teaser, has been unusually nice to her. Melissa’s the only one who’s vaguely normal - but then again, Melissa has always had a laid-back way about her. (Your partner’s crazy, she’d thrown out one day on the couch. I think he likes you. Scully had rolled her eyes. Mulder? Missy had grinned. I’m serious, she’d insisted. You should’ve seen him when you were under - he was such a mess. She hadn’t believed it until she’d read the report.) 

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anonymous asked:

I saw some discourse on my dash today about how Roni's wardrobe is stereotypical and offensive, or it isn't, and I was wondering what your take on that was, since you're Latina and you've always been pretty respectful when answering.

Hi! So, I haven’t seen any discourse because I’ve barely been on here and I don’t follow a lot of OUAT blogs, but I’m guessing both sides have valid points. Obviously, people are entitled to their opinion. I don’t want to speak over other Latinx or PoC on what they consider offensive. If they have a problem with Roni’s styling & wardrobe, they’re entitled to that. If they feel it’s stereotypical, they probably have good reasons to think that.

I’ve seen several Latinx who have been wary about Roni’s styling since the first photos came out, who found it stereotypical and felt they were making her into this clichéd Latina character, and I understand why they might feel that way. I’ve also seen people who don’t mind it. I’m part of the second group. Here’s why:

  1. Regina’s never been explicitly Latina, as in, if you’re a casual viewer, you’d probably never even know she’s Latina. If I’m not mistaken, for the past 6 years, there hasn’t been anything in canon that makes her Latina, other than Lana saying she is, and the fact that they casted a Latino actor as her father, but it’s all understated. As Roni, it’s the same. They have not written her as Latina. I think her wardrobe is just to show how different from Regina she is, as in more laid back & casual.
  2. Cinderella and Lucy, who are also Latinas, have not been dressed in stereotypical ways. I think the costume department never intended Roni’s wardrobe to be stereotypical, but obviously, since Lana is Latina, some might think it as such.
  3. I’m really, really glad that they’re giving Lana’s hair a break. She has talked about how her hair played a part in her getting roles (aka her straightened hair allowed her to look “whiter” because you know how Hollywood loves its stereotypes), and I’m glad she’s getting to show her curls.
  4. I’m not against her styling choice. And this goes beyond me thinking “phewww she looks hot as fuck” in every scene. Because I DO know how much some Latinas love their animal print clothing. And because the animal print hasn’t really been over the top. Because skinny jeans + a tank top every day? Not really stereotypical in my opinion. Hell, that’s the way I dress most days. Because I don’t think they’ve made her into your stereotypical Latina (a la Sofia Vergara in Modern Family).
Persona 3 reader x female Phantom Thieves

Small something since I wasn’t sure if people like Persona 3 anymore. Fem persona 3 reader x female Phantom Thieves. So suicide persona summoning warning incase.

~

| Futaba Sakura

• What the hell was wrong with you. How could you do such a thinking about leaving her behind?! Futaba was screaming insults at your dead corpse as she laid on the floor, watching shadows zoom in on your form. The smile you gave her as you lifted your skirt to bring out a gun to end it. Futaba saw you smile as you brought the cool metal up to the side of your head. “Don’t worry Fuatab-chan.” Her sweet voice called out before swiftly turning away.

• Closing her eyes, so she wouldn’t have to witness another death of someone close to her, she couldn’t watch her girlfriend die. Futaba couldn’t let her heart get hurt again. She waited for a blood curling scream of agony but heard of a contract being made, “I am thou…Thou art I” was your calm voice heard over the chaos of shadows swarming upon her love. She opened her eyes to you dodging attacks, giving expert commands as if this was a game and using tactics to narrow down weaknesses. Until it was over.

• Coming back to the real world she tackled you and curled up on her girlfriend’s lap, snuggling into her chest for warmth. That lasted for about 30 seconds before Futaba launched into a interrogation of what the hell she did to summon her persona. “It’s called a Evoker and it helps me summon my persona.” Futaba needed alot more data on this and why the summoning techniques were different. “I can only summon it when I accept my death.” Futaba cried until her girlfriend explained it a different way.

| Ann Takamaki

• Her screams pierced the air of Mementos. Her blue eyes expected to follow your body to hit the floor the moment you shot yourself in the head. If only you had given her time to save you. If only you had given her a chance to explain all this to you. If only you hadn’t chased her down into the lower levels of Mementos to chase their target down. The only dangerous thing was how high leveled the shadows became more dangerous down here.

• Hearing your voice as you screamed out a command to save yourself from a shadow that had slithered out of the darkness before Ann could make it to your side, out of range for her whip to fight back the shadow, before she could step in. She saw you pull out a gun, a real one, and shoot yourself to summon a ferocious beat that made chew toys out of the shadows that tried to kill you. She stood still in shock at what was happening before her. What was happening?

• You threw off your heels, as the heel snapped on one of them, and stood back up to finish off the rest of the monsters. Ann shook off her shock and ran to your side to help fight off the remaining shadows and drag you somewhere safe. She hugged you for a moment before standing back, trying to figure out what to say, “What did I just see? How? Just what?-” giggling you pressed your soft lips against her cheek, “I’m a persona user too. Just not like you or the rest of the Phantom Thieves.” You gave a her a cheeky smile before holding her hand and heading back to Leblanc.

| Makoto Niijima

• All she could do was run to you. That was it. Stopping dead in her tracks the moment she heard the bullet become released from it’s metal cage. Tears welled up in her eyes as she muffled the scream with her hands. The wicked smile you gave her as you pointed it under your jaw was something only you would do - you matched her level of crazy and free. The voice that screamed, “Persona!” a giant persona surrounded you, giving you a ethereal effect in a light blue glow.

• Makoto dried her eyes as she hoped to see your curvy figure’s back towards her. Her burgundy eyes locked onto the way your hair flowed in the wind as you have command, after command, that matched bullet, after bullet. The way you beat down all those shadows in Mementos, to save her after seeing her friends being worn down from a boss fight - they had barely scraped by from a Reaper battle. You reminded her of a Valkyrie in a war.

• Makoto watched as you simply, barely struggled, against the shadows of Mementos. Your pink lips smiled in her direction as your hurried by her side, skirt swishing,l from side to side, as you helped her up. “I know you have allot of questions Makoto. I know you’re worried but wait until you’re better for them. Just know that this is my Evoker, so I can summon my persona whenever I need to.” Makoto passed out. She couldn’t question how you got them out of there but did you did answer all her other questions pertaining to your persona skills.

| Haru Okumura

• Sinking to her knees the moment she saw that you held your fingers to your lips, a soft “Shhhh”, as your other hand supplied a gun to the side of your forehead. She held her breathe as you sent her sink before pulling the trigger. You had to protect her from the swarm of high level shadows in the palace when you had followed her and the rest of the Phantom Thieves. She stayed back to protect you until a shadow cut into her arm for a small gash.

• You have stepped up. You had ran, your heels clicking onto the pavement as you forced the shadows’ attention onto you. You had to protect her girlfriend and you would have to give up your secret to do so. Haru was worth it. There was no hesitation as you pulled the trigger, you would save the girl you loved. Haru watched as you summoned multiple personas to combat the shadows that descended upon you both as they alarmed more to come.

• Haru couldn’t help but feel amazed at how you were able to keep all those shadows at bay, without her help, until the rest of the group came back to save the both of you. Akira came in and helped her girlfriend, both worked well together as Makoto and Ann came and healed up her gash. “___ how are you able to use a persona?” Haru questioned as she ran to her lover’s side. Seeing you sheepish look as you showed her your gun, “This is my Evoker, it’s how I’m able to summon my persona.” You explained to Haru and the rest of the Phantom Thieves.

"It doesn't matter if I love you.. does it?" - Carl Grimes x Reader

Please do NOT reblog or re-post this. I spend time on these kinds of imagines, and I want you to respect that. Thank you.

You still recall how he mustered the courage and told you how he felt, how caring and loving he could really be. Just a few months ago, you made the decision to elude from the cruel world you dwelled within and meet a completely new part of life. You remember how happy you used to be when Carl developed a relationship with you and told that he ‘loved you’. You look back on the moment when you two shared an innocent lip lock, and then proceeded to become slightly bolder with one another. You had tendered him your heart and your love, and he did so equally. That was until Carl’s greed began leading him elsewhere, away from you. You still recall the words he exuded, and even if his voice was smooth and calming like dark chocolate, the meaning of them burned and etched your heart like biting acid.

‘I just don’t think we should see each other anymore.’ he said.

You should just get over it and move on.’

You still remember how your heart shrank back and cracked deeply, pounding weakly against your ears. The words were harsh and bit sharply at your stabbed feelings which ached painfully within your chest. Your lungs had shriveled and cut your air supply suddenly; even oxygen seemed bitter at that unforgettable moment.

Carl had been with Enid after he gave you the cold shoulder and left you, and the pain was unbearably vast as if it was an illness which spread gradually within your body and murdered you slowly. Those scattered pieces of your soul came and collected Michael, a newcomer within the welcoming community of Alexandria. The boy was around the age of Carl, just a few years older than you. Michael befriended you with friendly manners and was always sweet and kind to you; just like Carl. But, there was something different about him. He stood by your side patiently, waiting for you to become confident and spill the things tormenting your heart. You told him everything about Carl, how he left you that simply, as if he never felt a thing. After the consolation and comfort of Michael, you also began feeling warm toward him, just like he did. You are now what somebody would call a young couple, and you slowly begin recovering from the pain, but never getting over Carl. You have commenced avoiding him every time destiny brings your paths close, especially now that his new girlfriend is wrapped around his arm like a glove.

You are openly chatting with Michonne, feeling the aura around you cheerful and happy. After the Saviors’ fall, Rick made the decision to throw a small feast so that everybody could enjoy their long-abided triumph and drink a glass of wine in memory of the great people that gave their lives for their win.

You smile as the woman eyes you happily and kindly returns the affectionate sign. “I’ll see you later, yeah? After I get done with Rick’s nagging, I’m gonna be right back.” The dark-skinned woman jests with a bright smile, gently patting your shoulder.

“Okay. I hope to see you again, later,” You softly tell, your voice quiet and faltering as you speak. A small smile tickles your pink lips and you can’t help but show a full beam as you say your goodbyes. Your head turns and you exude a giggle as you watch Maggie gently cradling her child, with Michael offering his aid to her. The baby has Glenn’s remarkable eyes and owns Maggie’s delicate nose, as a sign that both of her parents will never be forgotten.

You approach with a small beam and Maggie’s mouth peels into a delightful smile as she sees you.

“You guys enjoying yourselves?” You joke gently, your eyes narrowing as a large grin overpowers your lips. Michael’s eyebrows raise with amusement as you draw closer, playing with the glass in your sweaty palms. He gives you a look, as if to ask if you’re okay and you bow your head with a reassuring smile. You faintly hear the baby nagging within Maggie’s embrace, and the woman sighs, gently cradling the child within her hug.

“Excuse me for a moment.. she’s just so stubborn.. just like her father.” Maggie quietly sighs, her half-smile falling flat as she recalls her husband. The woman withdraws, going somewhere private to hush her baby, her eyes visibly collecting with tears. You give Michael a sympathetic look and the boy leans forth, taking your hand in his. He runs his thumb over your sore knuckles and you faintly smile, laying your head against his shoulder, feeling a little dizzy from the hubbub all about. You let your eyes dance around like gleaming beads of glass and feel a small bit of warmth in your heart as you view the happiness enclosing around you. You consider yourself lucky that you didn’t bump into Carl in your way here. He must be around here, certainly. If the Sheriff’s son isn’t going to set foot in the feast his father put together, then who will?

You relax next to Michael and tediously glance about, watching the lights and the faces. As you imagined, Carl is here. He’s here, and his gaze is fixated upon you. You shift nervously, watching as he stands at the other end of the room with a glass in his hand. He seems angry, irked and somewhat irritated. You cold fingers lace with Michael’s and you bury your face against his shoulder, trying to ignore the young man eyeing you from a distance. Carl’s gaze is piercing and menacing; his eye is burning with blue flames that dance about wildly, raged and roused. What does he want from you? You can see his lips briefly moving as if he’s saying something and can view as his jaw locks and his eye squints, averting almost instantly.

“You okay, babe? Does your head hurt?” questions Michael gently, sensing your uncomfortable state. His eyebrows slant together in worry and you can’t help but show him a weak smile.

“Yeah, I.. I’m feeling a little dizzy. I’m gonna go home, okay, Mikey? I just want to relax a bit..” The boy nods at you and fondly kisses you on the head, lightly caressing your hair.

“Okay. Don’t worry about it, I’ll be there in a while, too. I’m just gonna see how Maggie’s doing.”

You tiredly smile at your company and let his hand go, waving wearily toward his direction. You house isn’t really far from the Grimes’ residence. You just stride for solid five minutes, your feet dragging you lazily as you venture forward. A sentiment of relief washes over your fatigued body as your house peers from behind the others, and you impatiently stumble forth, clambering up the timbered steps. You reach for the key in your pocket and clumsily unlock the door, feeling the warm aura of you house shower your skin as you step inside. Closing it behind you, you exude a long, loud groan, pressing your trembling hand against the wall of the couch which adorns your living room. You kick your shoes off, sighing with pure relief as you step on the wood freely, delving your fingers in the roots of your hair and messing it up.

“Did my presence really bother you that much?” A voice calls thickly from the corner of the room, echoing strongly within the four walls. Your shoulders flinch and your ears immediately recognize the throaty low; you can tell by the way he’s speaking his teeth are gritted and his jaws are clenched.

“What do you want, Carl?” Just testing the name brings a familiar bitterness at the back of your tongue, and your flushed face shrivels as your turn to glower at him. You eyebrows twitch slightly as you look at him; standing mutely with the company of the shadows. Carl seems a bit–no, very scary as you gradually observe him. You silently wonder if he’s going to drag that dagger from his belt and shove it in your throat; your mouth becomes dry as you watch him lift his head and look at you. However, your curiosity pushes you to get on his nerves, even if he looks like.. this.

“I really want to hear your shitty excuse about you breaking into my house.” You admit quietly and settle your arms on your hips, a sneer tugging at your mouth. Your words send his eyebrows up, and the young man’s pale eye broadens, but only slightly.

“Actually,” He rumbles, coughing purposely to clear his throat. “Actually, I wanted to talk.” The boy confesses, slowly emerging from the shadows and approaching you. He looks serious, completely serious, and that’s what scares you the most. His eye looks at your glowing face every now and then, as if it’s seeking for something.

“O..kay.” You concede lowly, your heart slamming rhythmically beneath your ribs. “W, what about?” You falter, your hands briefly shaking as you listen to his words.

“About us.”

“Us? Carl there is no ‘us’. Not anymore. You made sure of that.” You hiss behind your teeth, your eyes burning with an angry dolor. “You ended it. You hurt me. What else do you want so that you’ll be fucking satisfied?”

The words roll off your tongue on their own; you don’t get the chance to consider them before spilling uncontrollably. Carl lowers his head, biting on his rosy lip as he feels his eye welling up with tears.

“It’s just.. I don’t know, (Y/n). I really..I really fucking miss you.”

Your bottom lip quivers, but you shake your head, refusing to get hurt again.

“Oh- that’s great- now you’re feeling things? Where the hell were these tears when I was begging you to stay with me– now that I’m walking away, now you have the audacity to cry? Do me the favor, Carl, and don’t fuck this up for me. I’m.. I’m happy..you’re happy. If you love her, Carl, go back to her. Why do you have to destroy me again like this?” Carl’s expression changes into a tight-lipped frown and his fingers curl into clenched fists as he hears the sadness ghosting over your trembling voice. He has caused all this, all your depression and fading anger. Your eyes lock for a moment, and your lips briefly fall from one another as you sense it; You never really stopped loving him. He never stopped loving you either. It’s almost as if you’re telepathic and can feel one another’s emotions. You almost get lost in his remorseful gaze, but avert your eyes with a broken laugh.

“You know what’s the problem with you? It’s that you don’t know what you want, you just can’t decide, can you? Even if you’re sorry, Carl, nothing’s gonna change anything. I..I have something great going on with Michael. I don’t want to lose that..not again.” You’re panting by now, your lungs filling and exhaling rapidly as you stare at him with a look that expresses sheer pain.

“I want you..” You begin with a whimper, fidgeting with your cold, short fingers. “I.. I want you to go.”

Carl’s brows furrow at your words, and the young man scoffs as he takes a stride closer to you.

“You don’t love him.” Blurts Carl bitterly, as if he’s comforting his own self. His heart feels weak as it beats within his chest, desperately hoping you’ll agree with his idiotic words.

“You don’t know how I feel! Michael.. he has made me happy. You should just get over it and move on! You remember that, don’t you? You said it yourself, after all.”

Carl’s innards shrivel painfully at the words, and the young man clouds his expression with a depressed frown. Your answer stabs sharply at his aching heart, and he can suddenly feel how shit he made you feel when he talked so harshly and made your skin crawl. He still recalls that expression your face had when he told you these foul words; your wide eyes red and full with pained tears, your cheeks flushed and wet with water, your lips trembling as you tried to stutter something in retort. He left you like that, your poor body shaking wholly as you heard the door behind him slam. And then, silence. That’s exactly how he felt. He thought he was about to cry, but he sucked in a deep breath and stared at you with pure disbelief, biting down at his quivering lip to cease the tears from falling. He still remembers your tired smile, how your eyes would gleam with happiness every time you would look at him, how your comfort was the sheer medicine he needed. Carl missed that. He missed you, all of you. Now, he had screwed up, and lowered his head, refusing to accept that he had let you slip from his hands just like that.

“I.. I really loved you, Carl. I r-really fucking loved you. B-but that wasn’t enough for you, I get it. That’s okay. Now it’s over, anyway.” You bite your red lips, cursing yourself as you let a tear roll down your cheek.

“Please.. don’t say that.” Carl stammers half-heartedly, carefully approaching you. You flinch as he slowly takes a hold of your hand, and your eyes grow huge as your fingers lock together. He almost forgot how soft your hands felt, even if they were weary and carried uncountable scars on their tormented complexion. Carl laughs weakly at himself for an instant and shakes his head vigorously, his wooly tresses brushing against the sides of his face as he mutters to himself incoherently. The aura around you is stale and heavy, and time seems to stop its’ pass for a moment and just shatter all around you. You don’t find anything to say, so you just stand there like a gleaming statute of ice, your hand in his. Carl lifts his eye and looks at you, somewhat hopeful and hopeless, all at the same.

“It doesn’t matter if I love you.. does it?” You stare in disbelief, eyes clouded with broken, forgotten feelings. Bullshit.

“You don’t love me, Carl. You don’t love me- you never loved me– because you don’t destroy the things you love!” You haul your hand away, feeling your legs carrying you rearwards. Your eyes tingle potently as you glare at him, your face withered and wilted. Carl’s eye flinches and stares at you with woe, his heart pounding his eardrums with an untamable rhythm. The expression he wears shows that he is hurt– deeply hurt and let down. Before he can utter another word, you elevate your voice sharply, your voice low and throaty as it echoes within the four walls of the room.

Leave. Get out of my house. I don’t.. I can’t, Carl. Get out, because this is not going to end well..”

Carl remains silent, considering his next moves very, very carefully. The young man strides unto you, his footsteps booming as he ventures to strut past you and leave. But, that doesn’t happen. Carl hooks his fingers around your wrist and hauls you toward him, his unrestrained arm bolting firmly around your waist. You don’t do anything, you don’t have the time to. His mouth locks with yours, and your breath leaps to your throat, unsteady and briefly confused. Your eyes quail as you instantly recognize his hold on you, his gentle warmth, those godforsaken lips. You really give in for a moment, closing your weary eyes and taking it all in, knowing that you’re never going to feel that again. How your body shivers and raises goosebumps, how his hair lightly pecks your forehead, how his lips wrap around yours and fit as if perfectly. You feel slightly light-headed, but your brain snaps you back into reality and you immediately bring your shaky arms and push him away.

Your mouths pop with a hardly audible sound, lips reddened and eyes heavily hooded. You pant softly, but quickly regain your breath and calm your thwacking chest. You resist saying ‘screw it’ and the succulent notion of leaning up to kiss him again, and try to form a sentence, anything to break the inflammatory aura enclosing around you.

“Stop this, Carl! Just.. just..” Before you can finish what you have left to say, you can hear the front door opening from behind you and your heart hops to your mouth as you turn around and look with nervous eyes. Michael is standing there, and his wide smile falls flat once he sees the young man opposite you. The boy’s brown eyes squint as they glare at Carl, and his jaw locks suddenly. He makes it loud and clear that he loathes the Sheriff’s son, even if he doesn’t say anything; however, his reactions do.

“Hey, Mike. What’s up, man?” Carl respires breathily, jamming his hands at his front pockets. You approach Michael’s side, mouthing him gentle words and pleading him to not commence an abrupt fight. You fondle his shoulder, and your words seem a blur as his eyes dance between your fond face and Carl’s cold expression. The two males trade harsh looks and glares; the only thing that barricades their abided, foul mouthfuls of profanities is you standing between them. You try and act carefully, telling Michael that he doesn’t need to worry, but you also can’t ignore Carl’s sharp gaze burning cavities all over your back.

“Mikey, Carl was just passing by; he wanted to tell me something. He’s leaving now.” Carl’s expression slightly falters as your discourse settles an extra weight on his heart, but his incisive glare remains as he breathes out hotly from his mouth.

“Yeah, I was just leaving,” says Carl, his boots clattering and booming against the wood below as he strides forth to reach the door. His blue eye shoots an evident leer at you; a look that’s you try to not take notice of. As the young man passes beside Michael, he is stopped as the brown-eyed lad slams his hand on his shoulder, his pupils dilated with visible ire.

“If I catch you around my girlfriend again, I’ll tear your throat out, alright, Grimey? We’re gonna discuss this tomorrow. Like men.” The blue in Carl’s eye rages furiously as he shoves Michael’s hand from his arm, and he remains completely silent, jamming the boy’s shoulder as he struts by moodily and goes to the door. The young man shows you a last, empty expression before he uncorks the door and slams it behind him, making the door whack against its’ frame.

You flinch slightly at the loud sound, and feel as Michael gently grasps your hand, faintly squeezing it in his. You look up at the boy’s eyes and smile briefly, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“The asshole didn’t do anything, did he?” He questions huskily, eyeing you over as worry swims within his devoted eyes. You give a small giggle, shaking your head lightly at his cute expression.

“I’m okay, Mikey. Don’t worry. Let’s go to bed , now, yeah?” Michael nods his head at your suggestion, offering a sheepish smile as he slides and arm around your waistline and smooches your tresses. Your heart is beating vividly beneath your ribs and slamming loudly against your eardrums, but, somehow, it’s not because of your boyfriend. Your mind is still keen on Carl, and how delirious he looked. You still recall his sweet kiss and those carnal lips, and sigh, nipping at the inside of your cheek as you feel your heart flutter within your sternum. You shouldn’t be thinking of him. You shouldn’t, but you are. You shake your head, pursuing after Michael blindly as you try to wash off the notion. Carl can’t be serious.

However, you have no idea how serious Carl was being before. He stands outside your house, his dark, boyish silhouette outstanding as the pallid moonlight lathers the side of his form. His sharp eye is keen your window, and the young man exhales fervently as he watches the light close abaft the silky curtain. His intense frown breaks by a twisted, stretched smile, and the boy grins deucedly, gripping the handle of the dagger held in his belt. He drags the large blade from its’ sheath and examines it with his slender fingers, biting his lip to beat his wide, crazed smile. The only thing he can imagine is shoving the blade in Michael’s stomach; just letting him bleed out in torment until his vision reflects black.

“Your girlfriend, huh, Mikey?”mutters Carl beneath his hot breath, his eye twitching slightly, as if maddened. “Yeah, man. We’ll see ‘bout that.”

On The Line - Alfie Solomons Fan Fic: Alfie x Y/N

FIC  MASTERLIST

Anonymous said:

i have just thought of a request but Alfie and phone sex?? Like obvs you need both hands in those days but maybe you could do it where it’s more sexual talk than actions it ya get me?? With any of your o/c characters?? Cool if not just an idea I came up with and liked x

You can have one hand free still Nonny.  ;)

WARNINGS:  Language, sexual content, NSFW, 18+

On The Line

Alfie thread the long cord of the phone line through his large hands as he listened to the ringing drone on and on.   One hand reached up to loosen the buttons at the top of his shirt, fingers absently scratching the lightly furred and muscled expanse of exposed flesh.   If anyone asked why his heart was beating an thumping beat against his rib-cage while he waited for Y/N to pick up, he’d blame it on the tavern food and cold beer.   Suddenly the ringing stopped and he sat up straight on the hard mattress.

“Hello Y/N.  How are ya love?”

Her voice purred over the line like desire could actually travel across time and space and land with a burning fire in his gut.   Sweet and thick her soft tones caressed his ears and the weight of missing her settled as a hard lump in his chest.   Alfie leaned back against the brick wall and let her sultry tones wash over him, fingers working through his beard.   Half listening as his mind wandered far afield to call forth an image of her sitting behind the desk in his home office, phone cradled against her head and her feet propped upon its polished surface.   She was wearing the silky floral dressing gown normally donned after a good hot soak and his fingers could easily recall the soft material… and the feel of her skin beneath.   He pictured himself seated across from her.  Long limbs revealed as the gown fall away at the knees and gave him a glimpse of pale flesh.   In his mind, her legs uncrossed and crossed again, giving him a teasing display of the downy soft curls at the apex of her thighs.  Immediately his desire stirred and lengthened until he was pitching a tent in his trousers unlike anything since he was a horny lad.

“Where ya at love?”

She paused in the middle of her story concerning a foul up at the bakery.  “Where am I?  At yer house silly.”

“I knows that, yeah.  Fuck.   Where at my house?”

“Where the phone is Alfie, honestly, are ya even listening?”

“So yer at my desk?”

An annoyed puff of air came over the line.  “Yes of course.  Alfie…”

“Ya wearing that pretty robe? The one ya like after having a bath.”

A pause.   “Alfie, how did you know I had a bath?   If ya got someone watching me I swear Alfie Solomons.”

“So ya are wearing it then. At my desk”

“Fuck Alfie, some days having a conversation with ya is infuriating.”

Alfie leaned further down the bed and smirked; the curse word coming from her pretty little mouth he knew would be forming a pout making his cock twitch.  

“Yeah sorry ‘bout that love. Listen sweetie, ya get real comfortable there if ya like.  Put yer feet up just like me, it’s okay love.”   No response.   “Don’t worry none love, no one is watching … ya just make yourself nice and relaxed and I’ll listen better.”

The silence stretched out and Alfie briefly wondered if he was playing this wrong.   Then her voice came, that sweet and low tone that wrapped around his hardening dick and pulled it to full mast.

“Alfie.  Are you picturing me naked at yer desk right now?”

Keep reading

Jon

Spring had finally came after a long winter and Jon was pleased. He smiled as his three children were playing in the gardens in the courtyard of Red Keep. The boys were kicking a ball in the grass while little Lyanna was riding on her small white pony, a gift from the Dothraki which the princess loved. She had wanted her own magical unicorn and her mother, the Queen added a horn made out of clay. Lyanna was squealing with delight as the handmaiden held the reign and let the pony trot slowly around.

“They look so happy…” Daenerys said with a contented sigh.

Jon looked at his wife and pulled her close, kissing her lips. They were sitting on a settee under the shade, watching their little ones.

“They should be…” Jon told her. “They should know nothing but happiness. That is my wish for them.”

Daenerys smiled at him and cuddled closer in his arms. The King felt at peace, winter has gone and his children are growing strong and healthy. The country is beginning to recover and he has his beloved wife by his side. He couldn’t ask for anything more. Jon never thought he could ever feel any more pure bliss than he had at that moment. Even the way the sun shone gently, in warm streams had a golden effect as he watched his children playing happily and hear the peals of their laughter.

“I never thought I’d ever have this. That we would have this.” Daenerys said softly and held his hand, curling it with hers. She brought it to her lips and kissed it firmly.

“None shall take it from us Jon…” She said and turned to look at him. “Promise me.”

He looked at his wife, seeing all the love and happiness shining in her violet eyes. He knew he would fight the whole world to see it there.

My Love….I’d go through the fires of hell and even stay there just to make sure you’re safe and happy. That’s all I ever want.

Jon nodded and kissed her lips again, silently promising promises he never knew were hard to keep. But it was a happy, carefree Spring day after a long, hard winter. Spring was when everything was possible and the cycle of life and birth had just started. A promise of good things to come.

Traumatized

“Hi, could you write one where Harry and Y/N get into a fight and at one point, in frustration, Harry rises his arm in the air for no reason, but Y/N flinches because her last boyfriend had hit her a few times and Harry doesn’t know about that so when Y/N backs off with fear in her eyes Harry gets all sad because she thought that he would hit her and when she tells him why they make up?”

Sorry it’s so short :/ Hope you like it!

***

‘FOR CHRIST SAKE Y/N I ALREADY TOLD YOU I DIDN’T DO IT!” Harry screamed.

The fight has been going on for hours now and Y/n couldn’t remember about what they were fighting for, but she knew Harry was mad. He was beyond mad. And she was scared.

The setting was very familiar, she have been in this position before and it didn’t end well. Her ex-boyfriend was very abusive and hit her a thousand times when they were dating. It took a lot for her not to run for her life right now, because althought she knew Harry wouldn’t hit her, she still was scared for life.

“Harry, please, stop screaming I’m…”

“NO Y/N I WON’T BECAUSE I’M BLOODY FRUST…” Harry through his arms in the air and that’s when hell broke loose.

Before he could understand what’s going on, Y/n it’s curled in a ball on the floor, with her arms protecting her head, whispering “Please, don’t hit me, I’m sorry.”

“Babe…” All of his anger was gone and he’s on his knees in front of the love of his life, trying to understand why she was so scared of him. “You… You thought I was going to hit you?”

She looked up, trying to say “No” but that was exactly what she thought. A part of her knew Harry wasn’t like her ex-boyfriend, but she was still very scared.

He tried to reach out for her, but she backed away scared.

“Love, I’m not gonna do anything. Please, Y/n, I would never hit you. Why do you think I would be even capable of that?” Harry knew the problem wasn’t exactly with him. She wasn’t scared of him, she was scared of being hit. Someone hit her once? The pure thought makes Harry wanna punch whomever laid a finger on this beautiful girl.

“It was Aiden.” She whispered. She knew he wanted to know who traumatized her.

“Aiden what, love?” Harry asked, his voice just above a whisper and a lump in his throat.

“He… He hit me. More than once. That’s why I got so scared that you…”

“Oh babe…” Harry took her in his arms and she hugged him. “I would never do the same, you know that, right? Aiden is a dick and you have no idea how much I want to kill him right now for doing such a horrible thing with you. I’m not Aiden and I need you to know I’m never gonna do anything like that. Do you believe in me? Do you trust in me, love?”

“Yes.” Something in his voice made her 100% positive that he would keep his promise. He wouldn’t hurt her like Aiden did. Harry was different, he was special.

“I love you, my angel.” He whispered, kissing her head.

“I love you too.”

Royal AU // closed w/ @nosefornews

Royal balls were hell to say the least.

Well, of course they were fun in theory. Piper loved to dance and guest lists usually had interesting people from interesting places. But in practice, it was loud, crowded, and she was easily ignored in favor of her radiantly lovely older sisters. Not that she minded. It gave her a chance to hide away somewhere. To curl up in some quiet corner of the grounds until everyone left. It wasn’t like anyone would notice the disappearance of the youngest princess.

@nosefornews

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Request:  hi can i get an imagine where everyone lives and you are teddy’s little sister and remus is a teacher again and they find out that you have a boyfriend. little sister looks like remus but a metamorphmagus like tonks. thank you :)


Y/N and her boyfriend of three months sat on the sofa in the Y/H common room. Curled up by the heat of the fire, his head on her lap as she read. They had been talking for hours but now they were just enjoying each others company, in silence.

Teddy Lupin, Y/N’s older brother by 2 years suddenly appeared through the portrait door and saw his sister getting kissed by a random 5th year. Now, Teddy being the protective asshole older brother he is, stormed over.

“Ok what the hell is happening here!?” He yelled,

“Oh for the love of Merlin, Teddy. I have a boyfriend. Get over it” She rolled her eyes, Teddy didn’t know what to do.

“I’m telling dad” He announced,

“Ted!”

“Nope, I’m doing it” and he strolled out of the painting and up to his fathers office. He told Remus straight up. Remus rolled his eyes and rubbed his face with his hands.

“Teddy, why are you telling me this?”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE MENT TO DO SOMETHING, BE A PROTECTIVE DAD” Teddy shouted,

“Ted! She’s a teenage girl, a sensible one at that and she will be fine, leave her be. I didn’t fuss over you and Victorie and I wont do it now just because she’s a girl” Remus explained, “so if theres nothing else, I’d like to continue my marking”

Teddy left with a new realization that maybe leaving his sister to make her own mistakes was a good thing.

Obvious Delight

 “You’re so warm…” Cooing softly like a pampered child, Hana nuzzled closer into to the warmth of his chest. Arms tightly wrapped around his waist, the Nohrian noble even slid one step closer, playfully shoving him as if the hug alone didn’t fully catch his attention.

 Ah well, Takumi was still thrilled beyond belief to receive such an attention; the prince knew she was only like this toward him.

 “Geez…” Chuckling once to stifle the embarrassment that brightly splashed his face, Takumi showered more and more loving kisses to the top of her head. His lips then slid down to her forehead, soft lips brushing the smooth skin until he reach the top end of her deep scar. His eyes still closed, Takumi pulled back just the slightest so that he could continue his silent little kissing fit.

 One hand gingerly patting the back of her head, Takumi traced his kisses to the black scar that was marked across her right eye. Mmchu, mmchu, his lips pecked and stroked softly, nose then gently brushing her own that it burst out a sheepish, blissful giggle from her warm, pink, mouth-

 Thump.

 Takumi then stopped. 

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just spell it out

Emma makes a decision about “the next level,” written from the Team “Haven’t Done It” perspective. Unbetaed/unedited. Rated S for Sexual Frustration (and Smut). 1.6k words of coffee time. 

Emma would happily - silently -  admit, there was never a time when her pirate wasn’t the sexiest being on the face of the planet. 

It caught her off guard most of the time. She’d discover her gaze glued to his strong form outstretched on the couch, book opened at his lap. She released the plush skin of her lip she didn’t know she had been biting at the sight of him leaning over to tie his boots. She’d catch her fingers graze gently over her neck and lips as she imagined what it would be like if he was the one touching her. 

It was her favorite distraction.

It was also the most frustrating. 

Killian Jones either needed to be locked away out of her sight, or close enough that she could ravage him properly to her heart’s content. She doubted he would disagree. It was a wonder she hadn’t done it sooner, or even at all! How long had they been together now and they still hadn’t taken that ultimate step?

It’s not like her overwhelming love for him made it any easier, either. She wanted to show him just how just how staggering the adoration was in her veins. 

She wanted him, and if she had to wait much longer, there would be hell to pay. 

So when Killian came home from working on The Jolly Roger, trudging through the threshold of their house, Emma could feel a familiar warm ache settling in her belly. In the soft, warm light of the evening, he glistened with hard earned sweat, a scent of salt and leather trailing behind him. Upon seeing her, he radiated even more with pure bliss, a smile breaking across his cheeks. 

Gods above, someone needed to tell the man to tone it down. It was too much. 

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