his teeth are so white

anonymous asked:

This is a five-hour-long plane ride, we’re sitting together and you’re deathly afraid of flying.

The man sitting on Bucky’s side is very attractive. Now, this is Bucky’s very first time sitting in first class (he got bumped from a previous flight and got an upgrade because of it), so he doesn’t necessarily know the rules, but it probably should’ve occurred to him that the seat would also come with a view. It never occurred to him that the beautiful people would be in first, but he also never stopped to look around, given that he always had to hustle back to coach carrying a roll-aboard carry-on that is always a little too overstuffed to fit in the overhead compartment, but which he tries to shove in anyway.

In first class there are beautiful men and the flight attendant shoved his bag in for him.

What a life.

Bucky wonders whether he should make conversation, but decides against it when he really looks at the guy. Sure, he’s practically from the pages of <i>Sports Illustrated</i>, but he also looks nervous — chewing on his lip, balling his hands into fists then releasing them. It’s probably best that Bucky just focuses on which of the many movie options available to him he should watch during the flight. It’s a long one, about five hours, so he’ll probably be able to fit in two movies if he doesn’t fall asleep. (Bucky doesn’t plan on falling asleep, since this is probably the one time in his life that he will enjoy the luxuries of first class and he doesn’t want to miss a moment.)

But Bucky is surprised when the guy turns to him. “Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” Bucky responds. The man’s teeth are so straight and white that he looks like he could’ve stepped right out of a Crest commercial.

“How are you?” the man asks, sounding a little forced. Bucky glances down; the man is holding onto the armrest so hard that his knuckles are turning white.

“I’m great,” Bucky responds, a little squeakier than intended. “You?”

“I’ve been better,” he says, frowning. He turns forward again. “Do you think I could get some water?” he asks, not like he’s asking Bucky to get it for him, but like he’s genuinely confused as to whether he can get some water.

“I’m sure you can,” Bucky says. Seeing that this guy is probably not really used to flying like this (not that Bucky is, either), Bucky undoes his seatbelt and stands up. A flight attendant notices him immediately, and Bucky gives her a little wave.

“What’re you…” the man says, then folds into himself a little when the flight attendant arrives. “Hi,” he says.

“Hi there,” she says, giving the man a bright smile, then one to Bucky. “Can I help you with something?”

“My seat mate and I would like some water, if you don’t mind,” Bucky says with the biggest smile he can muster. He thinks it’d probably be less awkward for the guy if he asks for some, too.

“Of course, it’ll be just a second,” she says, heading back to that secretive area where flight attendants make magic happen.

“Thank you,” the man says.

“No sweat,” Bucky responds. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”


“You nervous about flying?” Bucky asks.

Steve nods. “It’s been a while, and the last plane I was in crashed.”

“What?” Bucky asks, though it sounds a lot more like, “Whuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuht?”

The man gives a kind of sheepish, sad smile. “I’m a little nervous about flying again after that.”

Bucky wants Steve to be lying.

He desperately wants Steve to be lying.

He can totally tell that Steve is <i>not lying</i>.

“Fuck,” Bucky says, flopping back into his seat. “You gonna be okay?”

“Do I have a choice?” Steve asks just as the flight attendant reappears.

“Here are your waters,” she says, gingerly handing one to Steve, which he then passes to Bucky. She gives Steve the second plastic glass and he takes an immediate, grateful sip. “Can I do anything else for you two?” she asks.

“Steve?” Bucky asks. Steve shakes his head. “No, I think we’re fine. Thank you.”

She nods, then looks down at Steve. She takes a quick glance from side to side, then leans in and says, very quietly, “And thank you for your service, sir.”

“Thank you,” Steve says quietly, mustering up a smile before taking another small sip.

She grins, then heads back to the flight attendant area.

“You a vet?” Bucky asks, feeling like kind of an ass for not noticing. He takes a sip of water and looks up at Steve.

Steve nods. “Yeah,” he says. Then before Bucky can think of something to say in response he adds, “I’m Captain America.”

Bucky spits the water out all over his pants.

“Excuse me,” Steve says, raising an arm to get the flight attendant’s attention. “I think we’re going to need a napkin.”

As Bucky wipes down his pants he thinks to himself that he should’ve asked for a seat in coach. He’s never had an American legend sit next to him in coach.

“Thanks for taking my mind off of things,” Steve says with a smile, a real, dazzling smile, as he takes the wet, crumpled napkin from Bucky’s hand.

And Bucky knows now that he wouldn’t move to coach for the world.


Originally posted by words-plus-wisdom

Pairing: Jeff Atkins x Reader

Request: “15 - Jeff Atkins”


15. “It was the fifth time I’m calling her phone.”

Word count: 1.960

Posted: 14th of May 2017

A/N: An imagine in a Sunday night. It sucks that tomorrow is Monday again, I am not ready for the struggles that I may face this week. I hate school, because people suck!
Anyways, I hope you like this imagine and I would love to receive some feedbacks from you. Thank you so much for reading.

P.S.: I am not taking part 2 requests as I have lots of imagines to write. Sorry!

- G. x

Link: Prompt list

Warning: some bad words

“I’m going on a beer run soon, babe,” Your boyfriend, Jeff, informed you as he left some sweet and gentle kisses on your neck. “do you want to go with me?”

“Jeff, you aren’t driving!” You stopped him as you knew that he had some drinks during the night. “Ask someone else to buy some beer.”

You were in one of Jessica’s parties and people were having fun, alcohol was the main protagonist of the party and it was Jeff’s task to buy some if they ever ran out of them.

“Babe, I’m fine.” He sat on the empty side of the couch beside you and he grabbed your hand. “I had two beers, two hours ago.”

“Jeff!” You warned him, but he just let out some soft giggles. He knew how protective you were when it came to alcohol and your boyfriend. You hated him when he put his life in risks and you couldn’t help but discuss over it.

“Babe, I am sober and I promise.” He assured you as he pressed a quick kiss on your forehead. “So, are you coming with me?”

“Alright, fine!” You rolled your eyes as Jeff gave you a sweet wide smile. His smile revealed his white and perfect teeth and you honestly loved them so much, his smile was so contagious that it convinced you to smile back at him.

“I love you so much.” Jeff whispered and your world stopped as you felt some butterflies in your stomach. You honestly felt the sincerity in his voice and it still hit you every time, nevertheless you were together for months.

“I love you too, Atkins!” You giggled as you pressed your lips on his cheek, pulling him closer to you.

“I love you more, no lies!” He debated and before you could open your mouth to speak, he pulled you by your chin and he leant in to give you a sweet kiss.

It made you smile and you felt the sparks running through your veins as he deepened the kiss between the two of you. He pulled you closer to him as he played with your hair and you seriously found that adorable and relaxing.

“Atkins, we ran out of beer!” Some alcoholic asshole stated and he interrupted the kiss between the two of you. Jeff groaned in annoyance and you could say that he preferred to stay with you on the couch rather than buying some beer for the crowd.

“Go on, Atkins!” People cheered for Jeff and you saw your boyfriend rolling his eyes as you were both obliged to stop what you were doing.

“Alright, I’m going!” He finally stated and the crowd hollered louder. You both stood up from the couch, him grabbing your hand tightly to lead you the way out.

You went to the parking lot, but Sheri’s white Jeep was blocking your boyfriend’s car, meaning that you needed to ask Sheri to move her car.

“Wait, I am calling Sheri.” You offered and he nodded as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on the crook of your neck. You brought your phone out of your pocket and searched for Sheri’s name in your phone book.

You waited for her to answer as the phone rang for several times, until it led you to her voicemail.

“No answer.” You stated and you tried calling her again, your fingers sliding smoothly on the screen of the device. You felt Jeff giving you some kisses on your neck and you felt shivers running down your spine. Your boyfriend was such a flirt, but you loved him just like that.

“Let’s search for her inside then.” Jeff proposed and you just nodded. He grabbed your hand as he led the way back inside Jessica’s house. He brought you with him, because he was afraid that some maniacs might hit on you, mostly when they were all drunk.

You tried calling Sheri as you followed Jeff around the house. You even asked around for her, but people would just slur or laugh because they were dead drunk.

“Did she answer?” Jeff turned his head at you and you just clicked your tongue in response. “Shit.” He swore under his breath.

It was the fifth time I am calling her phone.” You sighed and you tiredly shoved your phone in your pocket as soon as you heard her voicemail once again.

“Sheri!” Your boyfriend shouted for joy as his face brighten. He finally saw Sheri and you silently thanked God for it.

“Yeah?” Sheri looked at your boyfriend with a wide smile, obviously, she was having a great time with her circle of friends.

“You’re blocking me in, I’ve got to go for provisions.” Jeff honestly stated as he still held your hand tightly, protecting you from the alcohol-scented people around you.

“Oh shit!” Sheri swore as the loud music boomed behind her. “Okay, I’ll be right out. I have to get home anyways.”

“No, it’s alright. I don’t want to make you leave.” Jeff kindly and sweetly said, being the sweetest angel that he was.

“No, no, no!” Sheri exclaimed as she shook her head, her black curly hair following her head’s movements. “I’m staying at my dad’s, which comes with a curfew. I’ll get my keys and be right out.”

“Thank you, ma'am!” Jeff smiled and Sheri just raised her shoulders.

You’ve always liked Sheri, she was fun to be with and she was always cheerful. She would worry whenever you showed some cold treatments to your boyfriend and you could say that she was the first one who supported your relationship with Jeff.

“Take care!” Sheri shouted to you and Jeff as she started her car’s engine. Hannah was sitting on her passenger’s seat and you gained some weak hand waves from her.

“You too!” You shouted back and gave Hannah some energetic hand waves.

You then watch Sheri pull her car out of the parking and you followed the white Jeep as it made its way to Hannah’s house.

“Let’s go?” Jeff asked you and you just nodded. You followed him in his car and you carefully put your seatbelt on.

“Babe, you aren’t drunk and you are sure that you can do this, right?” You assured yourself with a question and he just laughed at you. “I’m serious, Atkins!”

“Yes, Babe! I am sure that I can do this and I am not drunk, promise.” He answered, starting the engine. “I can even write an essay if you like or do a home run for you.”

“Idiot!” You both laughed as he started to drive towards the store. You admitted that he was still sober and he drove normally and carefully. He wouldn’t want to cause any accidents, mostly when you were with him. He didn’t want to hurt you, not even once.

You both listened to some music and you went to the store to buy some pints of beer for the whole crowd. The party has just started and the night was still young, so you both decided to buy more than the expected.

“That was the last one!” You stated as you handed him the last box of beer from your push cart.

“Great!” He exclaimed as he carefully closed the door. You put the push cart back on its place and Jeff started to drive again once you got back in his car.

Music was blasting in your car and you were both singing and dancing as you followed the beat of the loud song. You honestly enjoyed this party more than the one in Jessica’s house. It was perfect, because you had the only person that you really needed to be with that night.

“All you have to do is stay a minute, just take your time,” You sang as Jeff hummed the beat of it. He was smiling as he was driving, eyes concentrated on the road. “the clock is ticking, so stay.”

“I will always stay, babe!” Jeff assured you, stealing some little glances to admire your face. You giggled at him as the sweetness of your boyfriend kept on flattering you.

“Always?” You asked him with a soft toned voice and he nodded slowly, still with a wide smile on his face.

“Always!” He assured you and he looked at you for a while. He reached for your hand and caressed it gently.

You were having a sweet moment together, but it was interrupted as a bright light blinded your eyes and you noticed that there was a car going through the street with its full speed, obviously exceeding the speed limit.

“Jeff, stop!” You shouted as loud as you could to get your boyfriend’s attention and he harshly pressed the car’s break with his foot, the car screeching its wheels in a high-pitched tone. You almost bumped your head on the car’s airbags, but you luckily didn’t get hurt. You heard some beer bottles break from the back seat, but it was one of the last things that you were worried of.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Jeff worriedly asked to you, his eyes was masked with fear and terror. You could say that he was really worried for you.

“I am, Babe.” You quickly wrapped your arms around him as tears started to stream down your face. You were terrified and your heart kept on throbbing quickly. “Are you?”

“I am.” Jeff hugged you back tightly and he caressed your hair. “I’m sorry, babe. I am really sorry.” He whispered as he dealt with his nervous heart too.

“I-It’s okay, I was just afraid.” Jeff wiped your tears once you broke the hug between the two of you.

You thought of the possible things that might’ve happened to you and Jeff and a tight knot was formed in your stomach. You thanked yourself that you joined Jeff and you somehow managed to stop him in time.

“They must put a stop sign here.” Jeff demanded as he tried to calm himself, his breathing was almost normal and your fear has almost vanished. He was shaking, though. The thought of that he almost hurt you crashed him. What if things went worse? He knew that he couldn’t forgive himself, if ever.

“They really must, this is dangerous!” You agreed as you cleared your vision by wiping your tears better. Your heart was still beating abnormally and you assumed that it was for the happening. “Wait, is that Hannah?”

“Yeah.” Jeff answered as he tried to focus his eyes on the silhouette that stood in front of the gasoline station. “Wasn’t she with Sheri?” Jeff corrugated his forehead as he curiously asked you the obvious.

Jeff slowly drove towards her and stopped just right in front of her. “Hannah?”

You softly called her and she quickly turned her head in your direction. “Didn’t Sheri offer herself to bring you home?”

Hannah just nodded, eyes concentrated to something else. Her body was shaking as she absentmindedly talked to you. “Sheri.”

“What happened, Hannah?” Jeff peeked to the opened window to see Hannah’s red and teary face.

“Stop sign.” Hannah emotionlessly pointed the knocked stop sign at the edge of the road and you quickly shot a shocked glance to Jeff.

“Damn it, Sheri.” You cursed under your breath as you realized that you almost died because of her.

Your body became paralyzed, so as Jeff’s body. Everything just hit your senses and you realized how destiny could be an asshole sometimes. Many things might’ve happened during that moment. Many things.

You still couldn’t believe that you were safe and you kept murmuring some messages of gratefulness as you calmed yourself down, holding Jeff’s hands tightly.

You could’ve died, but you didn’t. Luckily.


Something glitters in Cal’s eye. If not for the Silent Stone, I know his hands would shudder with flame. He leans forward slightly, lips pulling back against his even, white teeth. It’s so aggressive and animalistic I expect to see fangs.

I am your rightful king, Silver-born for centuries,” he replies, seething. “The only reason you’re still breathing is because I can’t burn the oxygen from this room.”

This is my first imagine I’m posting on here! I normally post these on my Wattpad (you can message me for the username for there if you want) but I wanted to give Tumblr a try! I hope you all enjoy and please feel free to send me some feedback! I would really appreciate it! Also please tell me if you want more! Enjoy! x



“A bit too tight, Mama,” I wince slightly as she yanks the strings to my corset so tight I couldn’t breathe.

“Pain is beauty, Adelaide, and if you need to look absolutely perfect for when the King comes to town tomorrow. The Master can’t see you looking anything less than perfect,” She says as she takes a pin from her mouth and places it near the new, makeshift hem so she can remember to sew there so I won’t trip over my own dress tomorrow.

“I’m scared. He has never come to town. Do you know what he’s coming for?” I whisper as I look out the window to see the tiny faeries glowing brightly as they fly and dance in the moonlight, darting to each and every scarce flower they could find in the chill of winter to find pollen to make their faerie dust. Mama tenses and pauses for a moment before shrugging and continuing her work.

I giggle and wave as one of the faeries flies to the glass and watches in awe as the candle light illuminates my dress that I was to wear for when Master arrived.

The mere thought of him sent chills down my spine. I had never met nor seen him, but I had definitely heard of the cruel, vampire king who ruled over this land. His skin was so pale that it was nearly translucent, every bluish-green vein noticeable, with eyes so red, it was like a fire blazed within them. He had chestnut brown curls that barely grazed his shoulders and his teeth were glistening white with points so sharp that with just a bit of pressure, he could pierce your neck and drain you dry in seconds.

They say he is a sad man, even though he ruled over many, many lands with all the riches of the world. In his thousand year reign, he never found love and, tales say, he searches relentlessly for his mate but to no avail. He knows only two features of his intended mate; fiery, red hair, the color of the very thing he craves the most, and eyes as green as emeralds just as his used to be before his blood lust settled in. They say his eyes have been red for hundreds of years, so long that they were beginning to say his past, gentle, kind nature and viridescent eyes were a myth.

Rumors were now going around that his sadness was developing into fierce, desperate anger, setting fire to every village that lied to him, saying there was a girl there who matches the description of his beloved.

I was used to the stares, the whispers, and pointing over my eighteen years in this world. I was the only redhead on a town of snow blondes and chestnut brunettes; a peculiar sight. I knew I matched the description of the king’s mate and so did everyone else in this tiny town. Sometimes, I dreamed vividly of a man so beautiful that he took my breath away. Even though I never dreamt of him with eyes like fire, only deep green, I knew it was the Master, the king, but I tried not to think much of it. I could never be his beloved.

“Okay, darling. Take it off so I can finish the hemming. I want to be able to get some sleep tonight,” my mother says tiredly as I slip off the beautiful, flowing dress and hand it to her.

Leaning over, she places a small kiss onto my forehead. Pulling back, she gazes at my face with an odd look in her eyes before sighing quietly. “Get some sleep, Adelaide. It could be a big day for us tomorrow,” she says and I immediately know she’s talking about the mate rumors. I nod softly as I pull on a nightgown before climbing into bed.

She walks out of my room, the wooden door eerily creaking shut, and I tug my quilted blanket closer as I hear the winter wind whip against the trees, the snowfall making it difficult to see the faeries glow as they continue to desperately scavenge for a few more hours until barren winter truly begins.

Feeling myself start to drift off, I lean over and with a quick gust of breath, I blow out my candle and my room goes completely dark, moonlight slowly creeping in through the window. Closing my eyes, I wonder if I’m going to dream of Master tonight as sleep overtakes me.


The once boiling water that was now my bath was starting to chill as I soaked absentmindedly. I could hear the villagers clamoring and shouting outside as they ready for the King’s arrival. I couldn’t believe that they believe that I was his mate so much that they sent a messenger to his castle. They put our little village, our home, in danger because of their beliefs. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

“Adelaide! Time to get out! The watchers spotted Master Styles about thirty minutes away, my child!” My mother shouts as I wash the rose oil off my body. Standing, I let the water roll and drip off my naked body as I grab my towel and quickly dry off.

Walking out into my bedroom, I gasp at the beauty of the dress my mother had finished making. The tight, corseted bodice was intricately designed with elegant pearls that shown with brilliant luster. My breasts were lightly pushed up and my pale skin looked even more translucent in the white dress. The flowing skirt billowed to my feet and felt soft on my legs. Extra fabric made a cape-like train appearance that just kissed the ground behind me as I walked. It was beautiful.

My hair was down with a few elaborate, delicate braids across the middle. On top of my head, my mother placed a wreath of baby’s breath that showed a stark contrast against my blazing red hair.

Turning to my mother, I open my mouth to speak when a loud horn is blown. The King was here.

My mother quickly grabs my hand and pulls me out of the house. My father and my younger brother stand there in the snow, looking down the beaten, dirt road in awe. For once, the tinkling of small bells was not heard as the faeries hid from the cold winter. Only gasps and whispers were trickling into my ears as I turn to see what all the fuss is about.

Walking further into the road, I stand there as dry leaves crack and crinkle under my feet, the ground cold and damp from the melting snow.

My eyes dart around to see the villagers in their best outfits gazing at me for a quick second before looking back down the road in trembling fear and excitement. Looking forward, I squint slightly only to gasp to myself as I see a small team of steel, black carriages pulled by dark stallions. Their heavy puffs of breath were evident in the cold air and their black manes were flowing behind them as they trotted, tiny, white snowflakes getting caught in the strands.

They slowly come to a halt as I feel my heart beating fast in my chest, my breathing becoming more and more frantic as I see a man hop down from his driving seat and open a carriage door. One dark boot stepping out is all it takes to send my body into overdrive before a masterpiece of a man as beautiful as the legends say fully steps out of the carriage. For someone who has lived over two thousand years, he still looked youthful and perfect.

His face is smug and dark as he looks around with a slight scowl, the commoners and people of the town swarming him instantly. His steps were calculated and determined as he walks to the stage where local news is normally projected. It was amazing to think he could actually run faster than a gust of wind.

I was in awe of him.

“My people,” he starts as something inside of me begins to tingle and a feeling I’ve never felt comes over me. His voice was raspy and smooth like thick, sweet molasses, sending every hair on my body on end.

He inhales deeply, looking like he was in pain and holding himself back but it seemed me and his guards were the only ones who notice. His guards take a step towards him as if they were ready for him to pounce on someone any second.

“As the years go by, your king stays healthy and young, ruling over this country fairly and keeping war at bay. But as I stay young, my servants and my slaves, especially my dear, sweet, generous blood slaves, grow old and frail. When they grow a certain age or get sickly,” he smiles kindly but I could see the maliciousness behind it. “I dispose of them, letting them leave the castle and go to a… a better place.” He says as the townspeople grow curious and anxious at his impending words.

This is not what they thought he was here for. He wasn’t looking for his mate at all when he decided to come to our village. He was looking for slaves, particularly blood slaves!

I take a step back as the realization comes over me, hoping no one will notice but the guard beside the king locks eyes with me and smiles demonically, his sharp teeth glistening as I imagine all the blood he has sucked from innocent people. His smile widens when he sees the color of my hair and his intrigue deepens.

“So, my lovely people, you are going to have to make a decision - a sacrifice, if you will - and hand over just a handful, only a handful, of your healthiest. After all, it’s the least you can do for your king,” he smiles once more, surveying the area as the people begin to panic. They didn’t want to be separated from their families!

Shouts of disagreement and outrage fill the small space before he holds his hands up to silence them. “If that’s how you are going to behave…Seize them,” he flicks his wrist, instructing his guards to rush into the crowd and start grabbing our healthiest and best-looking villagers.

I let out a small yelp of fear as I turn on my heel and start to run, gathering my dress up so I don’t trip and fall. Looking back, I see the guard I locked eyes with fighting through the crowd to get to me. Sending a quick prayer, I rush into the dark, nearby woods.

“Sir, there is a lady with red hair! Matching the description of your beloved!” I hear the man say as I run through the trees.

“Where?” The way Master Styles speaks sounded desperate and angry that the guard let me get away. His deadly, demonic tone sends shivers down my spine. By now, tears of fear are rolling down my cheeks as I feel briars and switches cutting into my legs as I run for my life.

“She ran through there!” is all I hear until an inhuman growl pierces the air and strikes terror into my heart. My breathing is harsh and scarce as my corset digs into my ribs and I feel myself becoming lightheaded.

Coming to the edge of the woods, I spot the clearing where our horses are kept. The grass is long and it was dark as it was still early in the morning and the winter clouds covered the sun. I pray the heavy odor of the horses will cover my scent as the wind blows, causing my dress to billow freely behind me.

I become so distracted by my loss of breath and the horses stampeding across the dark plain, I forget the one that is chasing me.

“Let me see your face.”

The voice that belongs to the vampire king sounds hopeless and sad, begging for me to turn and face him. I freeze for a moment, scared out of my wits before something inside of me yearns for me to turn to him.

Slowly, I turn to face him and our eyes lock. Instantly, a feeling I have never felt before takes over me and I suddenly want nothing more than to spend my life loving this man.  In a split second, his deep red eyes instantly turn emerald green as a dimpled, beautiful smile outbreaks on his face. His eyes fill with tears as he takes a step towards me, arms open to embrace me.

“My love, you don’t know how long I have waited for you.” He speaks softly and before I know it, he is within arms reach and gently taking my hand in his. He lightly gasps at the electrifying shock that goes through us and somehow his smile grows wider.

“You’re bleeding.” He states simply, making me look down to see my dress torn and my feet and my shin dripping blood from the briars. Surprisingly, I wasn’t scared as he leans down and places his face in the crook of my neck, even though I could feel his sharp fangs scraping across my vital veins. “Your blood smells so sweet, so delicious.” I tremble at his words, his tone causing tingles to run through me.

I actually wanted him to bite me.

Tiny, curious faeries emerge from the wood and their tiny bell-like rings fill my ears as a few watch us. I mentally say goodbye to them in my mind.

“What is your name, my darling?” He asks as he continues to lightly drag his teeth down my soft, vulnerable neck.

“A-Adelaide, Your Highness,” I whispered shakily, shocking myself as I turn my head to expose even more of my throat.

“Adelaide,” He purrs my name, the tingles now in my most private and secret place. I blush at my thoughts and feelings after just meeting this man, but what he does next shocks me to the core.

“You will never run from me or leave again. You’re mine now, ” He says, his voice turning dark before his sharp teeth sink into my neck and a bloodcurdling scream escapes me as he holds me still. He is ravenous and acts as if he hadn’t drank in years as I feel my body being drained dry. He slowly sinks us to the ground and I feel the soft grass against my skin as I stare up at the sky in shock, my mouth open in a silent scream as I feel myself becoming weaker and weaker. My pure white dress was now covered in my own blood as it drained out of the two puncture wounds in my neck.

Finally, he pulls away and I stare at his blood covered face as I feel my eyes failing me. Still, I did not fear him for an unknown reason. I trusted him as he whispers and lulls me to close my eyes. “Sleep, sweet Adelaide. We are going home now.”

Momentarily // (h.s)

Request: Could you maybe write one where the reader is Harry’s gf and she was in the crowd during his Graham Norton performance trying to make him laugh and that’s why he kept smiling and laughing?

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anonymous asked:

Hello! Can you please write a imagine with Raphael Santiago from Shadowhunters with the February prompt 37, 90 and 100. Can you make a Raphael x female reader? Thank you :-)

Raphael Santiago - “You can tell me anything”

“Did you enjoy it?” Raphael raised his eyebrows and folded his hands under his chin. He stared at your almost empty plate and already gestured the waitress to bring you the menu again so you could order dessert.

“Raphael…” You licked your lips and took a deep breath. “You don’t have to spoil me rotten each and every day of the week.” You smiled and placed your hand on your filled stomach. “But I did enjoy it, yes.”

“Good, because you don’t deserve anything less than the absolute best.” Raphael smiled back at you and once again you were surprised that his teeth were so incredibly white.

You had asked him more than once to turn you into a vampire, to make you like him.

So far he had always said no, telling you that this life was not something he wanted you to take lightly. Since that day he had been taking you to the most expensive restaurants as if he had been trying to show you what you would miss. “I’ve seen they have creme brulee on the menu.” He locked his glance with yours.

You paused for a moment before you swallowed. “Raphael, I think we need to talk about something.” You bent your head and placed your napkin on your plate. You didn’t need dessert. You didn’t even want the creme brulee.

“Of course, you can tell me anything.” Raphael leaned back in his chair. His ankle was resting on his knee and he seemed to make himself comfortable.

“I know that you are taking me to the best restaurants in the world to convince me that I would give up way too many things when I become a vampire and I know that you only tell me the horror stories and the downsides of being what you are, but…” You paused for a moment. “I’m afraid it’s not working.”

Raphael frowned his eyebrows and he placed both his feet on the floor again while he leaned towards you. “What do you mean it’s not working?”

“I think something else is happening.” You took a deep breath and hesitated for a moment. You knew there was no way back anymore. You had said a and now you would have to say b too.

“What is happening?” Raphael cocked his head.

“I think…” You paused for a moment. “I think I love you.” You didn’t dare to look up at Raphael, didn’t want to meet his eyes. “I know that we were supposed to be just friends. I know that you would simply take care of me until I had found another place to stay, but…” You eventually looked up and saw the surprise, almost shock on his face. “I love you. And you’ve only given me another reason to want to become a vampire. I want to be with you forever.”

Raphael didn’t say anything. He just stared at you. He stared at you and he seemed incapable of finding the right words.

“Can you please say something?” You bit your lip. “Anything?”

Raphael stood up from his seat instead. He walked towards you and kneeled down in front of you. His delicate fingers brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “No, I wouldn’t know what to say, but…” He pressed his forehead to yours. “Can I kiss you?”

“That depends…” You felt your heart racing in your chest and knew all too well that he could hear it. “Are you planning on turning me into a vampire?”

“No…” Raphael shook his head. “But I am going to make your human life extraordinary beautiful.”

You took a deep breath, but eventually you nodded and you curled your hand around his neck, closing the distance between your faces. “Okay…”

Oh, Baby (Namjoon x Reader) Pt. 13

[Pt 1] [Pt 2] [Pt 3] [Pt 4] [Pt 5] [Pt 6] [Pt 7] [Pt 8] [Pt 9] [Pt 10] [Pt 11] [Pt 12]

Pairing: Namjoon/Rap Monster x Reader
Rating: M
Genre: Smut/Mafia-ish AU

Words: 3,794

Summary: You were only supposed to have seen him twice. Only twice, no more, but now you’re getting dragged into situations you never wished for and Namjoon just keep showing up.

A/N: It only took me four months to write this, you say? Whatttttttttt…..I’m sorry. Forgive me ❤️

Despite Yoongi’s failure in keeping you safe, he knows that he has to own up to it immediately. He has to let Namjoon know that you’re…gone.

“Fuck!” he screams, banging his fists against the steering wheel of his car. His knuckles are white with rage—frustration clouding his mind to no end. He should have been able to stop Jimin! How the fuck—how had this managed to happen–?!

Tap tap—“Yoongi?”

Startling out of his anger, Yoongi jumps and reaches for his gun, head whipping to the driver side window where the sound had just come from. However, the moment he sees that it’s Namjoon—an innocent, questioning look on his face—Yoongi’s heart drops into the bottom of the Marianas Trench.

Oh no.

“What’s up? Why are you just sitting in the parking garage? Did you check on Y/N?” Namjoon asks, voice dulled through the glass. He steps back away from the door to allow Yoongi some space to come out, but Yoongi doesn’t move—can’t. He’s failed at tasks before but this time—losing YOU, possibly the most meaningful person in Namjoon’s life as of present—the realization is completely inhibiting.

Fuck,” he hisses, hunching forward and pressing his palms into his face, frustrated at himself and the situation to no end. Outside the car, Namjoon frowns, hating the way that his heart has started to sink for some reason. Why is Yoongi acting like…like he majorly fucked up on a task? Namjoon has known Yoongi long enough to know that Yoongi only actually gets frustrated at himself when he messes something important up.

“…where’s Y/N?”

The mention of your name causes Yoongi’s jaw to tighten—veins popping out on his neck—and Namjoon immediately drops the bundle off food in his arms—the food he’d finally retrieved for you and him to share on his way home from his make-shift business meeting.

Like in the middle of a blizzard, Namjoon freezes, heart nearly stopping in his chest as he frantically begins to realize that Yoongi’s car isn’t in good shape. There’s bullet holes in the front windshield, an empty clip on the passenger seat next to his gun—

Nearly ripping the driver’s side door off the car, Namjoon fists his hand in Yoongi’s shirt and pulls him from his seat, lips snarled and anger the only emotion managing to prevail through his inner despair. Why does it feel like his entire world is falling apart?

“Yoongi I swear to fucking god–!”

“Not here, please,” Yoongi manages weakly, though when his hands move to pry Namjoon’s from his shirt, his grip is strong. Eyes dark with regret and apology—small cuts lining his cheek and hands from his shattered windshield—Yoongi pleads to his boss and friend.

“You know it’s not safe here. Let’s go upstairs.”

Namjoon knows that Yoongi is right, deep in his mind. But he can’t find the strength to let go. His knuckles turn white, jaw clenched so hard that his teeth hurt. At the moment he wants nothing more than to—to—

“Who took her?” he growls, voice low. “What happened?”

“I see you’re coming back slightly,” Yoongi comments, lowering Namjoon’s hands from around his collar when the younger’s grip loosens—the reality of the situation seemingly beginning to sink in. Reaching up, Yoongi grabs Namjoon around the shoulder and steers him towards the elevator, thumb subconsciously coasting over Namjoon’s shirt as a way of comfort. After all, they may be mafia members but that doesn’t mean they like to see their own guys get hurt. They have hearts—and if Yoongi cares for anyone in the world, its Namjoon.

“C’mon,” he quietly says, and the elevator doors shut behind them. The ride up is filled with tense silence, Yoongi’s arm dropping from around Namjoon. The younger begins to curl and uncurl his fingers, clearly trying to rally his rationality, but fuck—

When the elevator jolts to a stop Namjoon quickly shuffles out, hands shaking as he digs in his pocket for his keys. However, when he reaches his door he notices that it’s ajar, and his back stiffens.

“Did you ever come into the apartment?” Namjoon asks, tone eerily calm, and Yoongi shakes his head, already putting the pieces together—how Jimin got you to the parking garage and into his car…

“No, I…,” Yoongi is cut short by Namjoon’s raised hand, and without speaking anything the younger steps into his spacious apartment. He first notices that your shoes are gone, and then spots your shattered phone spread on the ground near the kitchen—his heart feeling entirely too similar to the destroyed glass, at the moment.

Following Namjoon in, Yoongi watches as Namjoon slowly traverses the familiar space—picking up on every little thing that had changed—every little thing that you had done as your attacker had likely assaulted you.

“Do you know who did this?” Namjoon finally speaks up solemnly, his broad back kept to Yoongi. The elder of the two immediately sighs, head hanging as he rests his elbows on the kitchen island.


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pairing: daveed diggs x reader

summary: reader’s friend gets distracted by Rafael on a night out, and daveed is there to keep her entertained

warnings: NSFW! alcohol, swearing, clippng lyrics (they’re filthy wow), semi-public sex (?), and smut, like, SMUT. 

word count: 3,004

a/n: this largely exists so I can get over Daveed’s verse in the clippng song “tonight” where he just talks through sex and then PANTS INTO THE MIC. BYE. this is my first ham imagine, so…yeah. inbox is open for feedback and requests and friendship and shiiit. 

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Happy Birthday page-28!

Happy Birthday @page-28! We hope you had a great day celebrating:) To help make your day is even better, @historywriter2007 has written you a lovely Everlark story :)

Originally posted by spiderinthecupboard

Rating: T

Katniss pulled her car along the curb in front of the newly renovated building and huffed as she put it in park. She was still fuming over the fact she had to come out here and review a coffee shop. A real coffee shop, not some place that sold coffee along with exquisite food, no a coffee shop.  Katniss was a food critic, a damn good one, not a coffee critic; but her editor told her she owed one of the owners a favor so now Katniss was the one spending her afternoon at The Cornucopia Coffee Shop instead of trying to work on her pitch to Travel Panem.

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I’ve been getting a lot of requests to review this character and now that I’ve taken a look at it I can see why. Everything about this design is honestly a mess. Those eyes creep me the fuck out, he looks like a crack addict?? (not that there’s anything wrong with that) and his teeth are so weirdly white and straight (hmmm just like the majority of video game characters) AND not to mention not anatomically correct. Speaking of which, if he’s supposed to be a gorilla why does he have brown fur? Gorillas have dark fur as well as dark skin, whereas this guy is white. They whitewashed a fucking gorilla and seriously thought they could get away with that. Slap a tie on it and suddenly you have a completely non-threatening representation of middle-class white America. That’s honestly so fucked-up I don’t even know what to say. 

Fic: We Are Young

Summary: Dan and Phil go skinny dipping in Jamaica in 2010
Word Count: 1,349
Rating: Teen
Tags: Established Relationship, Skinny Dipping, Sexy Fluff
Author’s Note: This is for @alittledizzy, because she chatted with me for ages this morning when I had a terrible headache, and she thoroughly distracted me with phan love. The story is partially inspired by Pentatonix’s cover of fun’s song “We Are Young,” which has a definite reggae beat during one section that got me thinking about Jamaica. This fic is set during the 2010 YouTuber trip to Jamaica sponsored by Sony to advertise their waterproof video camera.

We Are Young

Tonight we are young (we are young)
So let’s set the world on fire
We can burn brighter
Than the sun
- “We Are Young” by fun. (covered beautifully by Pentatonix)

Phil was lying on the hotel bed, his body exhausted by all the activities of the past few days. He was more used to playing video games and watching television than all this constant swimming and cliff diving and running around! He wasn’t sleepy, just pleasantly aware of the tiredness in his muscles as he sank into a state of complete relaxation on the soft mattress.

Dan was standing by the sliding glass doors, looking out through the curtains into the darkness that hid the ocean waves they could still hear breaking softly against the beach. As happened so often, Phil felt his breath catch at the sight of Dan standing there lost in thought, so young and lovely with his hair curling out of control and his bare chest bronzed by all the sun they’d been getting on this trip. He always felt wonder in quiet moments like this, as if he’d caught a butterfly in his hands, having this beautiful boy in love with him.

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lostcauses-noregrets  asked:

28. “How dare you!” and 30. "Prove it." for Eruri. Who else? :P

of course the one and only ship! I hope you enjoy :) 

Everything was hard. Erwin hadn’t had a chance to think about it, When he was arrested by the police his mind was focused on not breaking. not dying in their hands. not allowing his hope for Levi to diminish . No, his mind had others priorities.

But now. Now it consumed him. He looks at his body in the mirror located in his room. his arm fully healed but he cannot bare to look at it. it’s 2 hours before the morning bell and so he begins getting ready. He takes a deep breath as he prepares for this colossal task. Levi had moved all his clothing into the wardrobe when they returned so he could reach them better. His mind fills with shame as he thinks how pathetic Levi must think he is, it angers him. He hasn’t allowed Levi to sleep with him when they returned knowing he will not be able to handle the patronising looks of his lover. 

he deserves this. deserves the shame and dishonour of surviving when everyone else died. losing his arm mocks the loved ones of the dead. I could have died, but I didn’t, even hell does not want me.  He sneers as he attempts to put his trousers on. The slow movement weighs heavy on his patients. “Hurry the fuck up smith!” he whispers as he struggles to pull the tight fabric over his legs. It takes so long, time he doesn’t have the right to have. He stands and shimmies them over his thick thighs and buttocks, contorting his body just to pull them up equally.  When they are finally up he allows himself to breath a sigh of relief. 

He pulls a fresh shirt from the wardrobe and eases it on to his body holding the material with what little of the stump can reach, grinding his teeth as he does so, eyes focused on the pure white rather than the mangled flesh.

 The shirt buttons are worse than the trousers, so small and so fiddly. “just go in.” He begs as he fails over and over to do them up one handed. “Just fucking do up.” soft trickles of warm tears fall from his eyes and his hands begin to shake making the already impossible task even harder. 

“Erwin?” He looks up, Levi is stood at his bedroom door fully dressed. Erwin can’t help the anger build inside him, and embarrassment of being caught. 

“What do you want, Levi?” he retorts returning to the task of doing up his shirt, not even one button done up. He wished he had some of his suit shirts, the buttons were bigger and easier to grip. Levi walks into the room, all Erwin sees are the perfectly polished leather boots.

“I’ve come to help you-”

“How, dare you!” Erwin interrupts anger finally bubbling over. “I am not a fucking invalid. I do not need you caring for me.” He growls stepping away as Levi draws closer. But Levi doesn’t stop he moves closer. “Levi!” He barks as the man pushes his hand out the way and begins doing his shirt up.

 Erwin takes hold of the pale wrist gripping hard. “I do not need your help. do not make me order you Captain.” He warns. But Levi’s face remains unchanged a look of annoyance if a little indifferent. finally those Grey eyes look up to his. face still blank. “you done?” 

they both stare at one another, Erwin filled with warning. Levi with annoyance. “Because-” Levi begins once again. “Right now, I am off the clock, and if I remember correctly. So are you. My lover lost his arm not so long ago, he has been tortured to unspeakable levels and right now is being a whiny little bitch. But I love him. So I will help him.” Erwin Lets go on Levi wrist and the man begins doing up the rest of the buttons. “It’s just clothes Erwin. So what if you need someone to help you a little. It’s fucking annoying not struggling to do this stuff, I have no doubt and these shitty uniforms don’t help. But it’s just clothes.” Levi lays a hand over Erwin’s heart allowing himself to feel the deep heartbeat underneath.

“If I cannot dress myself. How am I meant to lead.” Erwin whispers, his throat dry with anxiety. Levi meets his eye. “you just have to- Prove it…With me at your side of course. Like always. you lead and I follow.” He reaches up and caresses Erwin’s cheek. The first intimate touch between them for months. “You can even say you wish to retire, and I will go with you. just because you got your knickers in a twist doesn’t mean you have lost your ability to ignite passion in the soldiers. losing your arm and all the shit with the police has made them love you more to be honest. A commander than is not afraid to die for the cause. That’s why they follow you and the reason I chose to love you at the beginning.” Levi lowers his gaze as he tucks Erwin’s shirt into his trousers and ties the front up. He moves away taking the 3DM gear straps from their hanger and Erwin sits on the bed to allow the man to kneel at his legs to begin the most complex part. “Can I stay with you tonight? I don’t like being apart from you, Erwin. When you are not there I feel a part of my soul is missing and no offence but that trumps missing an arm.”

saphaeliscanon  asked:


I’ve been thinking, should I write a fic on here? I have a few on my AO3 (TakeASipOfMySecretPotion) but should I do one on here?



Sam wasn’t shy - no way. He was very loud mouthed and opinionated, though not many agreed with what he said. He and Alexander Hamilton were basically total opposites, which led to a lot of arguments between the two.

Which is odd, because despite never agreeing, the two were actually pretty good friends. Which was both a good and bad thing. Bad thing here right now, because the loud mouthed idiot was making heads turn to their table. 

Including, non other than George King, the man Sam has had a crush on since elementary school. As kids they were friends, but he moved back to England in fifth grade and just barely moved back last year.

So here they were, having some subs at some local shop when George and his friends entered, and Sam had fallen silent. Alex took notice. And he seemed to have planned to make sure he’d embarrass Sam. 

“Alexander I will not argue with you for two weeks if you would please just shut up!” His voice came out a hiss, and Alex rolled his eyes.

“If you’re so in love with him go get him, go talk to him! Compliment him or something!”

Sam sent him a bitch face, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, cause the richest and most popular guy on campus is going to talk to me.”

“Well, why not?”

Sam shook his head, taking a sip of his drink before realizing it was empty. “For someone so smart you’re quite oblivious Alexander.”

Sam was one of the only ones who still called him by his full name, and no matter how many times Alex said he didn’t stop. Sam stood, heading to the cheap soda machine the shop had. He filled the cup almost to the top, dumping a bit out so he didn’t spill it while walking back.

He hadn’t picked his head up, focused on flipping the top in his hand to put it on when -

He let out a startled gasp, as he turned and crashed into someone, the cup squished and spilling cold soda on the two of them. “Oh my God I’m so sorry I - “ He looked up, face to face - well, face to chest? - with, of course, George King.

Jesus fucking Christ when did my life become a cliche movie? Why was that the only thing going through his mind?!

“H-Holy shit I-I’m sorry!” Was that his voice? Was that his voice? It sounded more like a mouse!

There were rumors about the Kings family, the snooty, rich folk who were rude and cruel to people who made less than them. So, everybody. He didn’t expect George to be different, so that thought, added to the fact he’s had a crush on this man since he was seven, added to his anxiety.

George, though, surprised him and laughed, grabbing a few napkins. “Normally when someone comes over to talk to you, you don’t dump your drinks on them.” He quirked an eyebrow, “Or is this an American thing?”

“N-No! I wasn’t looking and I - wait, you were coming to talk to me?”

George nodded. “M-Me?”

“Yes,” George laughed, “No one else spilled their drink on me that I could be meaning.” 

Sam smiled shyly, “I’m…so so sorry.”

George waved it off - literally, he raised a hand and waved it off, rolling his eyes. “Don’t worry about it, never liked this shirt. Too tight and itchy, now it gives me an excuse to get rid of it!”

“Just because there’s soda on it?”

“Well if I throw it in the washer without knowing it could be damaged then it’ll be unwearable.” He shrugged, “Sisters enjoy trying to make brothers their guinea pigs.”

Sam, hand still dripping wet, laughed a bit, grabbing a few more napkins and drying his hands. George’s face suddenly went serious.

“Though, you do have to make it up to me.”

Oh here they go. “H-How much was the shirt?”

George shrugged. “Not sure, my sister bought it. Maybe, what would it be in American mo - oh! About three hundred.”

“T-Three hundred?!” He didn’t even have enough money for a pack of ramen from the dollar store. 

“Well, the other way is to go on a date with me.”

Sam blinked, once, twice, three times. George’s face had gone red by this point, but he remained calm looking. “A-A date? With, me?”

“Yes, again, no one else here has spilled their drinks on me, so I do mean you, Samuel Seabury.”

“You know my name?”

George laughed, “Course I do Sammy, I may have moved but I hadn’t forgotten you. I must admit, these years have done good for you, you’re far more cuter than I remember.”

Oh Lord if this be a cruel trick on him may God strike him dead right there.

“I - uh - um - y-yeah! I mean, a date sounds - sounds nice.”

George beamed. Oh my God how are his teeth so white? Thought that only happened in commercials for toothpaste.

“Great! Which dorm room is yours?”

“Oh uh, room 176.”

“Great,” He grabbed Sam’s hand, bowing slightly and kissing the back of it, “I’ll see you tonight Sammy. Seven o’clock, sharp.”

Sam nodded, he felt like his vocal cords had all but been ripped from his body. George winked, heading back to his table, grabbing his few belongings before leaving the shop.

He went back to the table in a bit of a daze, and they all raised an eyebrow at him. “I-I have a date tonight. With, George King…Who, remembers me?”

They all cheered, patting him on the back as Lafayette began planning his outfit.

He grinned, he had a date.

With George King.

God hadn’t struck him dead so it wasn’t a joke.

Man was his life good.

Preference No. 2: The First Kiss

A/N: Guess who tried to write Jacob for the first time? (This girl!) Guess who failed at writing him? (This girl!) I’m not sure why Altaïr’s is so short compared to the others, it just kind of happened.


The strong rays of the summer sun were beating down on your back, your body ignoring it in favor of lunging towards Altaïr. Unfortunately, he’d seen your move coming, dodging out of the way before you could land the blow. With a quick sweep of his foot, he had you falling towards the ground. You closed your eyes, bracing for an impact that never came. 

Altaïr wrapped one strong arm around you, keeping your body close to his chest. Neither of you spoke, your eyes gazing into each other’s as the sun heated your embrace. Slowly, so slowly, you inched towards his mouth. He kept still, an unreadable mask placed over his face. You, however, were undeterred. 

With gentle grace, your lips met. Upon contact, Altaïr righted your stance, pulling your body flush against his. It was as sweet as the finest candy and as hot as the crackling fire, his lips leaving no inch of yours unexplored. And it ended all too soon. He didn’t speak as he unwrapped himself from your embrace, nodding once to you. His muscles were tense as his steps echoed around, your smile on his retreating form. He’d be back.


Each star in the sky twinkled brilliantly down at you, the festive sounds from the city below dancing around your figure. It was like a fairytale, watching the people move about their business from the rooftops. They all looked so busy, like they all had somewhere to be at the moment. Your musings were cut short by a warm hand trailing across your back, hot breath ghosting your cheek.

“Lovely night,” he whispered, observing the streets from behind you. You nodded, turning to face him.

“Ezio,” you greeted. He smiled, the scar on his lip doing nothing to fade his beauty.

“May I inquire why such a stunning woman is all alone on a night like this?” You chuckled, shaking your head at his endless flirting.

“Who else would keep your ass in line?” His lips turned up in a half smile, the moonlight outlining his near perfect features. Wordlessly, his fingertips tipped your head towards him, his lips crashing softly against yours. Your surprised gasp gave him the advantage he needed, his velvety tongue slipping effortlessly into your mouth. He was like ice and fire, night and day, his hands everywhere, yet nowhere. It was too much, and yet, it wasn’t enough. 

His body was tight against yours, his arms practically holding you up. His lips worked diligently with his tongue, bringing as much pleasure as he could. When the need for breath became too overpowering, you pulled away, your forehead plastered against his. His hold wasn’t leaving you and you had one hell of a feeling that it wouldn’t be anytime soon.


A cool breeze rustled the strands of your hair, interrupting the silence with its soft whistle. The heat from Connor’s body was practically blanketing you in an eternal warmth, his form poised and ready with bow in hand. You’d tagged along with him while he was hunting, if only to spend time with him. It was comforting, watching him act so naturally. There was nothing forced about his motives or movements, all of it coming from his own spirit. 

You watched as he pulled the string back, his muscles flexing beneath the strain. You observed as he released it, a sense of accomplishment in his eyes. And you surveyed as he looked to you, a soft smile playing on his lips, his expression just waiting for you to compliment. You didn’t disappoint. There was just something so heartwarming about the massive man lighting up at your words, his rare smile growing. So much so that you couldn’t resist pulling his head down and placing your lips upon his own. 

His arms were moving around wildly, the confidence from hunting not transferring to the current activity. Finally his tense posture relaxed, his lips melting against yours. His movements were tentative, letting you dominate the kiss as he placed his hands gently against your hips. It was sweet and loving, each moment slow. It was everything you could want, Connor’s scent enveloping you, his touch embracing you. You pulled back, smiling at his blushing face. He looked utterly adorable, his hair askew from your hands, his brown eyes blown wide, and his lips shining. He was stumbling back, random excuses tumbling from his lips. You could only laugh as he practically bolted from the scene, your eyes watching each movement. Perhaps next time he’d stay.


The rowdy sounds of the pub rolled over you, the burning tingle dripping down your throat silencing them. Your dulled senses could only register his grey eyes, dark like the clouds before a storm. His sweet aroma of aged spices and something so utterly him surrounding you. The pub was too hot, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each intake of breath. You yearned for him, every inch of your skin screaming for his. 

It was sick and sweet and so very primal. His white teeth shone in the candlelight, radiating the very air with his power. He knew you were so close to breaking, so close to giving in. Just one suggestive look and you were his. However, you were not so breakable. Your mind began clearing, taking a step out into the dreary night in hopes that you might better calm your thoughts. The game still stretched on, you and Haytham dancing around one another like cat and mouse, the other absolutely refusing to give in. 

Only, as he walked towards you through the darkness, you knew he was the predator and you were the prey. With each clank of his boot, your heart beat faster. Each confident step fueled your arousal more, your eyes practically begging him by the time he stopped inches from you. He didn’t need any more permission, lurching forward to connect your lips in a kiss so raw, so primal, your feet curled in their confines. 

It was rough, his body pushing you against the wet, splintering walls of the alley, his tongue demanding entrance. He was hot against you, giving in to every bit of his animalistic need, the pent up tension from the past few weeks bubbling over. It wasn’t until you were out of breath, your nails scratching at his back, your legs wrapped around his middle, that he slowed the kiss down, presenting his emotions. It was just as, if not more so, fulfilling as the heated kiss, a sweet song in your heart. He didn’t let you go after that.


You were in the stuffy confines of the captain’s quarters, watching Adéwalé and Edward discuss their next journey. Every once in a while Edward’s piercing blue gaze would meet yours, letting you know that he hadn’t forgot about you. With each witty remark, he looked to see if you laughed. Most of the time, you had. Adé seemed to get more and more frustrated with him, deciding it was time to leave when Edward sent you a saucy wink, barely paying attention to Adéwalé.

“You asked for me?” You inquired, breathing in the sweet smell of salt in the air, the soft rock of waves crashing into the boat below.

“Aye, lass,” he nodded, his pink lips turned up in a smile.

“Why, exactly?” Sure, you and Edward had been close. In fact, the two of you were often reminiscing of past times or sharing little jokes. But he’d never asked you to come to his room before.

“I thought we might share a drink.” His rough accent surrounded you, the sheer sound of it making you dizzy. To simply put it, Edward Kenway was intoxicating. You never thought you’d be one to fall under the spell of the brash and dashing captain, but things don’t always go as planned.

“Why not go with the others?” You asked.

“Do you always ask this many questions?” He questioned, an amused little smirk tugging at his lips as he pulled out a flask of rum, sitting at the table and gesturing for you to do the same. You obliged, looking over his features. He was handsome, in a rugged sort of way. He was the kind of man women draped themselves over and men respected. “Besides, who’d ever say no to a little rum?” You took the flask from his hand, mirroring his expression.

“Certainly not me,” you muttered, taking a throat-burning gulp of the beverage.

“Easy, lass,” he warned, “it wouldn’t be the smartest of moves to get drunk in a pirate’s cabin.” You rolled your eyes, knowing that Edward would never treat you like that.

“Says the one giving me the drink.” He chuckled.

“Fair point.” Your smile widened, moving closer to Edward. He looked at you with questioning eyes, the smirk never once leaving his face.

“Besides, you’re not the type.” You challenged.

“Am I not?” He teased, an eyebrow raised.

“Nope,” you drawled, nearly jumping out of your skin when Edward pounced. He had you pinned beneath him, your limbs unable to move.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he muttered, his gaze raking hungrily over your body. You made no move to leave, prompting him to attack your lips with the fury of a lion. His lips were surprisingly sweet despite the situation, betraying his true feelings. Each caress of his mouth made you feel treasured, his hands keeping you against him. His lips were moving slowly, softly, his tongue exploring your mouth with honest curiosity. It was loving, and you cherished every second. It was like he was memorizing every part of your mouth, savoring in it like he’d never get it again. With a chaste kiss to your lips, he pulled away. And the damn infuriating smirk was put back on, his eyes glinting with mischief. Pirate, indeed.


You knew it was going to be another long night, hours spent worrying in the dark of your home. It was always like this when Shay went away, chasing after whatever Haytham required. It was frustrating. You growled, pulling at your locks. Shay was careful and skilled, you knew that. But you couldn’t help but worry for your friend. He was so blinded by hatred that he could lose sight of himself. 

Your body aches, wishing more than anything that he would walk through your doors, a smile on his face as he greeted you with his beautiful accent. The seconds ticked by, each one dragging into the next as your mind imagined more and more scenarios of Shay in worse situations than the last. By the time Shay actually walked through the door, you were convinced he was bloodied, broken, and dead in some darkened alley, nobody around to attest to his death. You were filled with relief as he entered, a smile playing on his lips. You wasted no time in jumping up into his arms, your head resting against his chest as you listened to his heartbeat.

“I thought you were dead,” you murmured, a chuckle causing his chest to vibrate.

“I’m not that easy to kill,” he joked, his thick accent rolling smoothly from his tongue. Pulling back from his arms, you gazed into his dark eyes.

“You’re going to kill me with worry one of these days.” You stated, enjoying the feel of his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Let’s hope not.” The two of you were looking into each other’s eyes, unconsciously moving closer. Before you knew it, your breaths were intermingling, your faces only inches from one another. With slow movements, you moved your head up as he moved his down, meeting in a fiery kiss. His lips moved against yours, somehow roughly and sweetly at the same time. His mouth was like fire, you no more than a freezing woman in the dead of winter. You couldn’t get enough of him, your tongues moving in tandem as you got even closer. His mouth was moving hotly against yours, backing you up as he kept your lips locked. 

You loved every minute of it, drinking up the taste of his mouth like you were dehydrated. Much too soon, in both of your opinions, did you pull apart. You were both breathing heavily, your eyes still locked. You may have another long night, but this one was definitely for more pleasurable reasons.


The wind whipped by, your legs pushing you further along the stone rooftops despite your exhaustion. You felt free, the weight of the world lifted from your shoulders. Your laughs echoed throughout the streets of Paris, alerting those below of your presence. Only, by the time they realized what happened, you were already out of view. It was a truly beautiful day, the sun shining brightly above. You were so lost in the feeling of freedom that you failed to notice the assassin watching from above. He jumped down, landing directly in front of you with a thump.

“Arno,” you greeted, keeping your surprise in check. However, he noticed it.

“(Y/N), you seem in a pleasant mood,” he commented, his eyes drinking you in.

“I am,” you agreed, smiling widely.

“Any particular reason?” He questioned, moving ever closer to you.

“It’s just a beautiful day.” You answered, a smile blooming on his face.

“It is indeed,” he agreed, taking another step closer.

“How has your day been?” You asked, your hands smoothing down your robes in a nervous gesture.

“It’s about to get a whole lot better,” he muttered, his hand resting softly on your cheek.

“Arno?” Your eyes were shining in confusion, meeting his own confident ones. He ascended slowly, giving you time to back out if you needed to. You didn’t. His lips were hot against yours, a hand snaking around your waist to pull you closer. You welcomed the touch, moving your mouth against his. You could feel his smile on your lips, his tongue slipping into your warm mouth. He was lazily mapping out your mouth, his kiss filled with emotion. 

It was sappy, sweet, and so Arno. Your hands tightened against his back at the loving feeling encompassing you. He felt much the same, continuing his languid movements. You felt like you were melting, his ministrations doing wonders. All too soon he pulled away, smiling down at you. You just knew it was the start of something amazing.

Jacob Frye:

You were wearing darkness like a cloak, watching the streets from the tops of buildings. It was almost disgusting, the amount of people tricked into thinking this “revolution” was anything more than another scam to make the rich richer and the poor poorer. The seriousness of the situation washed over you in waves, drowning you in the feel of hopelessness. 

Darkness was all you knew anymore, the lies and corruption of the city only pushing you further into abyss. And there was your only light, perched a few feet away from you with a top hat placed elegantly on his head like a crown. You smiled, watching him from behind.

“Jacob,” you called out. His eyes softened at your form, a smirk forming on his lips.

“Love,” he greeted, the endearment striking a chord within you.

“How long until the brawl?” You asked, hoping to divert your mind from the thought of him in a much more… pleasurable scenario. Too bad Evie wasn’t there, she normally kept your head out of the gutter.

“We’ve got time,” his accent drawled, confident steps walking towards you.

“Evie?” You questioned. He jerked his head to the left, his hat moving ever so slightly at the movement.

“With the rooks,” he explained.

“Ah,” you replied for lack of something better. “And why are you up here?”

“Because it’s too bloody hot in the pub.” You chuckled, your eyes shining with mirth.

“Of course it is.” He nodded his head towards you, stopping a mere foot from your position.

“And why might you be up here, love?” You could’ve sworn he put a little too much emphasis on the word, heat crawling up your neck. You shrugged.

“Thought it was a nice night for a walk.” He laughed, watching you playfully.

“Or were you just in need of better company?” He took another step closer, the fresh scent of him teasing your senses.

“A bit of both,” you joked, not backing down from your stance. He stepped forward one more time, stopping centimeters from you. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, practically hear his heart beating within the confines of his chest. It was maddening.

“I’d prefer the latter,” he drawled, crashing his lips down on yours. You didn’t protest, eagerly returning the kiss. It was fast, the world spinning with each lick, stopping with each moan. He was alive beneath your movements, his body moving against your own. Lust was clouding your judgement, your body repeating “more” like a mantra. You were in hell and his kiss was your only salvation, his tongue your only savior. If his hot lips moving against yours, his tongue invading your mouth, was hell, you didn’t ever want to leave. 

You felt the entire world beneath his touch, your heart beating in time with each stroke of his tongue. And with a cold breeze, he was standing back, panting. You weren’t in much of a better state, licking your lips hungrily. You needed more. Cheekily, you took his hat off his head and placed it on your own, winking to him. Oh, this night was about to get a whole lot more interesting.


You couldn’t help but fear for Desmond, watching as he slept. He spent so much time in the animus that you knew it couldn’t be good for him. You hated every minute of it, watching petulantly as he entered the machine. You couldn’t protect him in the animus, couldn’t talk to him. It was like he was gone most of the time, leaving you with the rest of the group. If you had to hear one more of Shaun’s sassy ass responses, you groaned quietly, rubbing a temple. That man was going to put you into an early grave. Your own stresses were all but forgotten when Desmond’s body jerked in his sleep, his eyes moving rapidly beneath his closed lids.

“Des,” you whispered, shaking his sleeping form gently. When he didn’t wake, his movements becoming more erratic, you shook harder. “Desmond.” He was up in a flash, pinning you to the ground with a hand at your throat. You glared up at him, watching emotions flicker through his honey eyes. Finally, he calmed down, backing away from you with apologies. “Are you okay?” You asked, a hand reaching for him. He flinched, causing you to drop it back in defeat.

“Fine,” he muttered, wincing at how fake his voice sounded. You rolled your eyes, pulling the man into a rough hug.

“Honest to God, Desmond, you’re a terrible liar.” He chuckled despite his wary state, returning your affections stiffly. “You’re as stiff as a board.” He didn’t respond, his muscles relaxing under your touch. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” he replied. You pulled back, watching him closely. If he was uncomfortable, you really didn’t want to push him. With a nod, you accepted his answer. Sighing to yourself, you moved to get up. However, Desmond was having none of that, pulling you back into his arms. You looked up to him wide eyed, not expecting such an action from the assassin. 

His lips dropped down to yours, barely brushing against your own soft lips. It was soft and sweet and not nearly enough. He stopped you when you tried to pull him down for another kiss, shaking his head against your insistence. He laid back down, tugging your body against his so your head rested on his chin. You sighed, not entirely sure if it was out of contentment or disappointment. Although, you couldn’t be too disappointed with Desmond’s actions. You were sure he’d be much more willing in the morning. You’d only just closed your eyes when Shaun’s voice called out, “Get a room!” Honestly, you were going to kill that man.

anonymous asked:

can you do a blurb where you have begun dating Niall you volunteered to babysit freddie and everything is fine with you and freddie at first but its all gone crazy after a while and your freaking out cause you don't want louis or even niall to think you screwed up?? All these baby blurbs i NEED one where you are babysitting freddie for the first time pleaseeeee???? I love your writing!!!

Could you do a blurb about you and Niall being really close friends and he is babysitting either Freddie or Liam’s baby and asks you to keep him company and watch the kids with him and then he sees you interacting with the kids and realizes he is in love with you?

A/N: This isn’t edited - at all.  I got these two requests and sort of combined them.  Ended up being kind of a friends to lovers.  But all fluff.  Fluffiest fluff.  Enjoy!!!

Babysitter’s Club

The wailing starts back up the minute you sit down on the couch.  Freddie’s baby monitor lights up, and you pull yourself up to check the small, black and white screen.  Louis had warned you that he was teething, and you’d assured him you could handle it.  Niall seemed a little more reluctant to believe the brave face you were putting on, but that still didn’t stop him from hopping in the front seat of Louis’ Range Rover to head out to some charity luncheon.  If you and Niall hadn’t been such close friends for so long, you probably would’ve been better at pretending to know what to do with a baby.  If you hadn’t been in love with Niall for so long, you probably wouldn’t have agreed to help him out by babysitting for his mate’s one year old either.  But, alas, here you are.  And you are in way over your head.

You collect some of the supplies Louis had set out for you and trundle back up the stairs to the nursery.  According to the schedule Louis has typed out for when Freddie is at his house, he should be taking at least a 2 hour nap right now.  You don’t know a lot about babies, but you do know that if they’re sleep schedule gets screwed up, their whole night is going to be a disaster.  You tiptoe into the nursery and find Freddie with his fat little hands gripping onto the side of the crib.  His cheeks are wet from the crocodile tears spilling from his bright blue eyes.  You’ve measured out the exact amount of infant tylenol into a dropper, and have a warm sippy cup of milk on stand by.  You scoop him out of his crib and settle into the plush glider in the corner of the serene room.  Freddie squirms a bit, still a little unsure of you, but happy to be in someone’s arms nonetheless.  “I know, I know.  Babies can smell fear.  Your Uncle Niall told me.”  Freddie blinks up at you and kicks his chubby legs out.  You dribble the tylenol into his mouth, thanking God and whoever else is listening that he takes it without a fuss.  Curling your legs underneath your bum, you pull a small blanket from the basket next to the chair and get settled in with Freddie snuggled in your arms.  He’s happily sucking on the sippy cup and your stress level is rapidly going down with the soft suckles and coos coming from this precious baby.  

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