i hope you whispered the in motion

Special Places

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 3017

Warnings: Smut. One NSFW gif

Anon asked “Can you do a Bucky Smut fic where the reader just moved back to town and is reunited with Bucky after not seeing each other for a long time and they’re old best friends and always had feelings for each other they just never acted on them because they were scared. Sorry is that doesn’t make sense!! You’re literally the only author that makes the best smut stories ever because you use gifs with them😂🙈”

A/N: This was fun to write considering a had a similar thing happen…apart from the sex part. Let me know if you want to be tagged here.

Originally posted by gothicclownqueen

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Can you just let me hold you? // Shawn Mendes

authors note: This is based off Sweater Weather and I’m going to be honest I found this so difficult to start so sorry if it sucks I just really wanted to post something for you guys :)

Reqested: yes 

“Come on Shawn,” I call, laughing at his unenthusiastic expression. I run towards to the waves that are crashing against the shore, feeling the sand between my toes.

“Y/n,” I hear Shawn shout my name and then a moment later his hands are wrapped around my waist, picking me up and swinging me around in a circle.

“Put me down,” I squeal, thrashing in his arms while his shoulders shake in laughter. Instead of placing my body back down on the sand, I”m chucked over his shoulder as he carries me back up to the beach house we rented for the week.

“It’s too cold to go swimming today baby,” Shawn chuckles, rubbing an area of my exposed skin that is covered in goosebumps.

“But we only have a 5 days left,” I argue halfheartedly, letting him take me inside the house and up the stairs. He drops me on the bed and I laugh, scooting up till my back leans against the pillows.

“It’s going to start raining any second,” He comments, eyes drawn to the window where dark clouds are beginning to form.

“I love when it rains,” I voice, pulling the throw that was on the bed, across my body.

“If you were cold you should have just asked me,” Shawn grins and my eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“What do you mean-” I’m cut off by Shawn pulling my leg towards him so that I’m laying on my back. He climbs on top of me, covering my body with his so that his body heat transfers to me.

“This was your plan all along wasn’t it,” I laugh, feeling his breath tickling my neck.

“Pretty much,” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I wrap my arms around his back, feeling the smooth muscles on his back tense at my touch. He relaxes into me as I softly massage his shoulder blades.

“We have to make dinner soon,” I mumble into his ear, removing one hand just to tangle it in his hair instead.

“Way to ruin the moment,” He groans, tightening his hold on me.

“Sorry,” I glare at him mockingly and he squeeze’s my side in response.

“Can you just let me hold you for a moment okay?” Shawn whispers, kissing my collarbone softly. I let myself fall slack into his embrace. 

“Does it usually feel like this?” I whisper, my skin tingling wherever Shawn’s lips press soft kisses to.

He pauses, lifting his head to meet my eyes.

“I would hope you don’t feel this way with other people,” He smirks, resting his forearms on either side of my head and holding himself up so that the tip of his nose was inches from mine.

“Shawn,” I mumble, tugging his shirt in a childish way that causes him to chuckle.

“I’m pretty sure that what we feel for each other is extraordinary,” He presses his lips to mine and I let the motion carry me away in a swirl of emotions. 

I wasn’t in the beach house anymore, it was like I was floating. Just Shawn and I and the butterflies that always erupted every time Shawn did something remotely romantic.

“I can never seem to get enough of you,” Shawn says against my lips and grin, holding him closer to me.

“I hope you never do.”

Originally posted by fearless-man

|Awkward Dinner| Peter Parker

Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Request:  Hi, are u tking in requests? Because I was thinking of one in which the reader is dating Peter Parker and her dad is Tony Stark (peter dindnt know) and she presents Peter to her dad in a dinner night and Tony is like :“You piece of shit,youre dating my daughter” and a lot of awkard conversations at dinner? I dont know, is it too mixed up? keep writing

A/N: Thanks for the request and I love the idea of the reader being Starks daughter so I had fun writing this :3

Warnings: ALOT of cussings, and mentions of sex and implied *wink wonk*

Words: 915

Part 2

Originally posted by dailymcugifs


“Are you nervous?” I asked Peter, holding his arm while standing in front of the closed dining room doors.

“No- I mean… Yeah. I just hope your dad likes me.” He nervously chuckled.

“I know he’ll love you! I mean he’s really smart just like you. And funny- but kind of an asshole…” I smiled up at him.

“Ok…” He opened the door and grinned. “After you.” He motioned into the room.

“Thank you.” I giggled at him and walked past. My dad, who most call Tony Stark, was sitting at the table working on something projecting from his watch.

“Hey sweetie-” He said without looking up. Peter walked up beside me and froze.

“Uh-” Peter whimpered.

“Babe- are you ok?” I whispered to him. My dad looked up.

“Oh- hey Peter…” My fathers eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing here?” He asked. My eyes widened.

“Hey… Mr. Stark…” Peter quietly said.

“You know my dad?” I whisper shouted at Peter.

“Yeah! I mean he made my suit and all!” He threw his hands up, keeping his voice low.

“Y/N… I thought your boyfriend would be eating with us.” He said through gritted teeth. I feel like he already knew Peter was my so said boyfriend but wanted to hear me say it.

“Hehe… dad… You apparently already know Peter… my… boyfriend.” I smiled as best I could to hide my embarrassment. I knew that look. My dad had his ‘I’m going to kick someones ass’ look.

“You son of bitch-”

“Dad!” I snapped at my dad.

“You piece of shit-”


“You don’t got daddy issues why you scoping after an almost carbon copy of me?” I groaned.

“Stop- let’s just… have dinner and be nice and- dad do not yell at him anymore.” I said while taking Peter’s arm and leading him to a seat next to me near my dad. We both sat down and my father sighed, swiping away his work.

There was an awkward silence as our food was brought out. Peters’ hand was clammy against mine and then he shook my hand from his. I looked down at the food which was steak.

“I’m sorry about my dad-” I began to whisper towards Peter. “I didn’t know you guys knew-”

“So, Peter…” My dad spoke up, catching our attention. “How long have you two been… a thing?” He asked.

“A-About… Eight months…” My dad growled at Peter’s answer.

“Sooo… How was work, dad?” I asked. I could tell Peter was tense so I put my hand on his knee and he slowly loosened up.

“It was-” He sliced his knife hard through the steak and the knife made a clang against the plate. “Good…” Peter gulped beside me.

“So, Peter… Does Y/N know? About the internship?” I could tell my dad was staring at Peter without even looking up.

“Uh… Um… Yeah…” My eyes looked up at my dad.

“I thought I told you not to involve anyone you cared about.” He said as he calmly set down his silverware.

“S-She accidentally found out- Mr. Stark.”

“I’m gonna kick your ass, Parker.” Peter tensed up again.

“Dad!” I yelled. Both boys looked my way. “Why can’t you just accept that Peter and I are dating and you can’t just be an asshole to him. It’s hurting me too!” I looked at Peter and he weakly smiled.

“I’m sorry honey… I’m just… Mad at Peter at the moment.” He mumbled. It clicked in my mind that Peter said he had gotten his suit taken away. I leaned towards Peter.

“Did he take away your suit?” I whispered to him.

“Yeah…” I giggled and then sighed.

“I have two children on my hands.” Peter nodded in agreement.

“Are you calling me a child, Peter?”

“No- No sir! I- was…” Peter hurriedly grabbed his water and started drinking from it to avoid the question.

“Listen- I’m totally fine with you two dating but I have some rules.” My dad held up one finger. “One- no sex.” I heard a choking sound from Peter and he coughed up some water. I guess we already broke rule number one. My dad didn’t even care and went on with the rules as Peter tried to regain breaths. “Two- mainly to you Peter- If you break her heart I really am going to kick your ass.”

“Yes, M-Mr. Stark.” Peter gasped and I patted his back.

“Three- no kissing in front of me. Four- If something happens to her you’re going to do everything you possibly can to get her back.”

“I would be doing that anyways even if you wouldn’t have told me too… Sir! S-sir…” My father rolled his eyes and his watch beeped.

“I have to go do something.” He pushed his seat back and started walking towards me. He kissed the top of my head and then looked at Peter. He just stared at him for a second. “Don’t expect me to kiss you either. I’m mad at you.” He turned around and walked out the door. Peter let out all the air he was holding in.

“Jesus- Christ. That was the most terrifying I’ve ever done.” We both laughed quietly and then leaned back in our chairs.

“I’m sorry- I thought that would have gone a lot better.” He shrugged.

“I mean… you could make it up to me.” He smirked down at me.

“Hm… do you want to break one of my dads rules?” I asked.

“What!? No! He might murder me!”

“Even if it’s rule number one?” I bit my lip and he whimpered.

“I-I think I could live with that…”


A/N: who wouldn’t wanna break rule number one with Peter ‘fuck me’ Parker


Intent: to strengthen feelings of courage and general protection against negativity
♡ dried calendula (ward off negativity),
♡ marshmallow root (protection, cleansing, guiding),
♡ black salt (soak up and trap negative energy),
♡ lavender (soothing, purification, protection),
♡ amethyst (cleansing, purification, healing)
Instructions: First make black salt; I made mine by mixing ashes and coarse sea salt with my mortar and pestle. While grinding it visualize what challenges you are facing. Pour the black salt into the bottom of the container.
Take a pinch of lavender and add on top of the black salt. I used this primarily to calm any negative feelings brought out in the first step.
Next take the calendula and marshmallow root and burn it until charred. Waft the smoke and think about specific insecurities and weaknesses burning with the herbs. Once charred add them to the container.
Lastly add amethyst (I used small pieces) to the top before sealing it to purify the spell. When sealing it, think the phrase “MY COURAGE IS ARMOR.”
Optional: incorporate the sigil I created (I wrote it before the preparation, charged it with clear quartz during the preparation, then cut and tucked it in to the bottle), seal with wax, whisper the chant, incorporate hand motions with the wafting.
This is my first time posting a spell to tumblr; I hope you like it ♡

The Last All-Clear (9)

Notes from Mod Bonnie

  • This story is a series 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?”
  • A wee bit o’ mixing of showverse and bookverse details, hope ye dinna mind.


(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 | (Part 6) June, 1944: The Ditch  

(Part 7) Samhain, 1946: Inverness | (Part 8) April 16, 1948: The Hill 

April 17, 1948: Only a Memory


It wasn’t fear that strangled my voice, for though my senses were all screaming, I did somehow know that not only was I safe, but that Jamie was there with me. I’d woken several times in the night, befuddled with sleep; had reached for him, found him, touched him, fallen back asleep with my hands upon him. No, this was not fear, but panica physical, sensory panic bringing such sharp, childlike desperation to his name in my throat that the sound alone had my skin crawling. It was already alive, though, each pore burning and stinging as it weathered the sensation of being pulled into the ground by some smothering force.  “Jamie!?

“Here,” came his own husky whisper as he wakened and reached for me. “Here, mo chridhe. What—?”


In mere moments, he was lifting me into a half seat and raising something to my lips. I jumped at the bite of the cold aluminium against my skin. Still, I had little space in my fevered mind to marvel at things like thermal flasks. I drank greedily, each gulp a gentle pulse of relief against the pounding in my head and the buzzing that had seized my body. I didn’t stop until the bottle was drained, and then leaned my head back on Jamie’s shoulder, spent, gasping huge lungfuls of air, waiting for the ground and roof to settle and still. 

“Are ye hungry, too, lass?” Jamie asked, his words resonating through my ribcage. “I’ve brought food. I can fetch ye — ”

Exhausted, I could only shake my head side to side against his chest. The truth was, I was starving, but I didn’t think I would be able to keep anything down in my present state. Despite the water and Jamie’s solid, steadying presence, myy vision was as shaky as my hands, my cheeks flushed. I felt like I could claw every ounce of flesh off and still not get relief; and I was hot. Dear God, I was going to suffocate, my body wrapped tight in an embrace of pure, sweltering  —  

“Here,” Jamie said firmly, both arms coming around me as I fumbled vainly with my laces, “let me.”

With measured efficiency, he got the bodice and stays unlaced and loosened from my sweaty shift beneath. At my nods, he got the fastenings of the skirts undone as well, laying me down on my back and moving to my feet to pull them off. Each layer gone was like a bucket of life-saving water tossed over my boiling skin, bringing calm and reality closer within reach. 

I managed to get the shift over my head on my own, and emerged from the garment to see Jamie’s back in the dim pre-dawn light. He was barefoot, in trousers and a white undershirt, hunched over by the tent flap and carefully folding my filthy clothing. 

Despite the attack of heat that had awoken me, the drafts of April air from the opening (was it April, now, too?) were little above freezing, and I immediately burrowed back underneath the blankets, the wool and cotton smooth and blissfully comforting against my sweat-damp skin. I closed my eyes, concentrating on breathing, on banishing the last of the frenzy from my body. 

“Are ye well, mo chridhe?” So tentative, that voice; so small. “Is it the bairn?”

“It….Yes, it might be….”

In fact, the extremity of the attacks of both mood and physical sensation likely pointed to that very explanation: pangs of morning sickness I could finally name as such. I’d been too afraid, these past two months on the campaign, to acknowledge even the possibility of what was happening within my body, desperately ignoring that deeper part of my being that wasn’t deceived even for a moment. Still, now, to name it, to accept it, to be able to embrace that I carried Jamie’s child within me? That joy was, in that moment, a greater calming force than any fresh air or soothing touch. Even more so, the recollection of the miracle inherent this new day: that Jamie himself was here with me.

I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt his palm on my cheek, his thumb gently stroking and erasing. “Are ye in pain, then, Claire?” he asked, voice torn with worry. “Ought we to get ye to town? To hospital?” 

“No,” I said at once, opening my eyes to see him crouched over me, laying my hand fiercely atop his, holding him to me. “I’m fine, I promise. I just—” My voice failed me altogether for a moment. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

He relaxed, eyes going soft in the dim light. “Nor I, you.” He bent and kissed my forehead, my mouth, very gently. “May I—” 

He checked himself for some reason, shaking his head as he gestured to my blanket coverings. “I did bring clothes for ye. I’ve a nightdress and a frock, then some soft trousers and some other options, forbye. Whatever suits ye best. Shall I fetch ye something?”

“You thought of everything,” I said with tears still in my eyes. 

“I did have quite some time to think, aye?” he said quietly, rummaging in a pack and coming out with a sky-blue nightgown. He turned back to me and stopped, poised on his knees, the fabric held against his chest, forgotten. 

“Is something the matter?” I said, startled by the intensity in those eyes. If I knew Jamie Fraser, and I did, he was about to reveal some horrible news, and my entire body clenched in dread, awaiting the hammer fall. 

“….May I look at you?”

With no more than those five words, my heart went liquid, rushing out and filling all the corners of my soul at once. The fact that he thought he needed to ask; that he genuinely didn’t know if it was his place to request such a thing, let alone if his wish would be granted. “I dinna mean to insinuate—” He was flustered, handing me the nightgown and refusing to meet my eye, now. “I dinna wish ye to think—That is to say, I swear, I wouldna ever suggest—” 


He stilled, hearing the admonition, though a gentle one. He lifted his gaze. Still, he asked, “May I?”

There was no thought of seduction within fifty miles of my mind. I thought the same held true for him. The hunger in his look, in his request, was something deeper than any need to possess with the body, and I would no sooner deny him the remedy than deny myself. Mind now clear, breath steady, I pulled the blankets off and offered him simply that: myself, such as it was.  

He stared down at me for a long time, unspeaking, hiding behind his mask. Then, the silence was broken by a sound like tearing paper.  “You’re so thin, mo nighean donn.

I blinked. 

“I can see every one of your ribs,” came his whispered moan, the glimmer of tears tracing down his cheeks, that horrified stare unbroken. “…the bones of your hips…” 

I wanted to cry, myself. “I’m sorry.” 

“I’d forgotten, just how hard it was on ye, the hunger and weariness.” His eyes finally flicked up to meet mine, flowing, desperate with guilt and pain. “To think that I put ye through such a thing, could have killed ye so, or the bairn, and all —” he swallowed, hard. “ — all for naught.”

“It wasn’t for nothing,” I murmured, sitting up and laying my hand on his thigh. “It wasn’t.” 

“It would have been,” he said hoarsely, though his hand came down to cover mine. “Had we been separated forever by time, it most certainly would have been for nothing. To think that I would have lost ye — to have deemed it honorable to lose you and the bairn and my own life over a foolish man and his doomed pretensions to a crown, it — ” 

He swore, shuddered, teeth clenched. The rage barreled through him, the pressure on my hand near-violent in its intensity. Still, I didn’t pull it away. 

“But you’re here,” he said at last, the anger slowly ebbing. He reached down and picked up a blanket, draping it over my shoulders against the chill. “Ye found me.” 

Yes,” I whispered, a chill passing through me nonetheless, though not from cold.

“It was what I feared most, ken, in all these years apart from ye.” He raised my hand and pressed his lips to it. “No’ the waiting or the solitude: only the dread that you would be lost when ye touched the stones and I would be left wondering what befell ye. I myself was taken to ‘41 wi’ no apparent reason or logic….where might you and the bairn have been swept?” 

“What would you have done?” I asked, the question fearful even to my own ears. “If I hadn’t appeared last night on the hill?” 

He shook his head, a tiny motion at first, then harder with the intensity of the horror, his lips still pressed into my palm as though hoping the hand might keep the screams inside. 

“It’s alright,” I whispered hastily, nudging closer and placing my other hand on his face. 

“Every hour that passed,” he croaked, “when ye didna appear at sunrise, I thought — I thought — “ 

“It doesn’t matter, anymore,” I said firmly, though my own voice was shaking. “It doesn’t. We never have to think of those damned stones again, them or their diabolic sense of humor.”  

He choked out a laugh, and despite himself, I could feel the smile under my hands. Even so, his voice remained a broken heart incarnate. “I’ve missed you.”

I was about to say the same, my heart responding to the intensity of his own, wanting to be one with it, but it wasn’t true. I simply hadn’t had time. No more than two minutes had we been apart, in my experience of the matter: time enough to have my heart break, to wish the world would swallow me up and save me from reality, but not to actively miss him. Not seven years. 

Slowly, I unwrapped myself from him and lowered back down onto the blanket nest. “Come here?” 

He moved at once, as though he had been waiting for permission but not dared hope for it. His movements remained halting, but as he laid his head between my breasts and I pulled the blankets over us, I felt him sigh and his body melt against mine. A warm hand came up to cup the faint round of my belly. He didn’t speak, but the soft caresses, the faint sounds of love and need and grief dispelling from his body, tear by tear, spoke all his heart. 

“You were so young, the first time I saw ye, in camp…”  

We’d shifted again, after sharing a simple breakfast of ham and bread and cold coffee, my cheek now pressed against the soft cotton of his undershirt. He smelled like my mother’s laundry soap, a fact as jarring and unbelievable as any, and that was quite a feat, given all the unbelievable facts of this particular day. 

Jamie laughed, remembering. ”You were upbraiding a poor, unsuspecting patient who’d had the gall to let his stitches fester from negligence. I heard ye, ken, before actually laying eyes on ye, your fine, braw voice booming out over camp like a hellbeast!” 

“True to form, I’m afraid,” I admitted, savoring the feel of his middle bouncing up and down with laughter, even while riding the waves of my own personal ocean of embarrassment. Jesus H CHRIST, all the ridiculous things I must have said and done with him observing, for YEARS!

“Was I truly terrible, Jamie, in those days?”

“Not a bit,” came the immediate answer. “The same fire; the same stubbornness; the same fierce need to see healing done. Less sure of yourself, at times,” he conceded, “but so like your own self, it was quite honestly difficult to bear.”

“You helped me, in that way, you know,” I said, feeling quite shy but determined that he should know the depth of emotion on my side of those years, too. “With the feeling sure of myself part. You were always there for me to talk after long surgeries, or to smile across the room when Nancy was being an insufferable twerp, or —"

“So, constantly, then?” he laughed and I giggled in agreement. 

“Couldn’t put it better myself.” I sighed, tracing patterns on his belly. “Still… You always knew just the right thing to say. You kept me confident in myself and in pursuing medicine, when I know I would have given up and gone home. I’ve often thought of Danton, in these years since, and blessed the memory of him for that alone. He changed my life. You changed my life.” 

“It …it gladdens my heart to hear so.” He kissed my knuckles. “Believe me, it wasna something I kent at the time. Every moment we interacted, I feared that I was being too bold, that it would endanger — well, you’ll see from my letters I wrote ye in the wee book just what thoughts and fears ran rampant each time I allowed myself to speak to ye. I’ll warn ye now: ‘tis a great lot of fretful havering, and no way ‘round it.” 

“I remember that book! You always had it with you.” God, to think he’d been writing to ME that whole time….that sweet, quiet man who’d been my friend.... “I think I had something of a crush on you, you know?”

He winced. “That was always my fear.” 

“Oh? Would it have been so terrible?” 

“And risk changing things? Risk jeopardizing your marriage prematurely? For, if ye’d fallen for me once, mightn’t ye…well…I had to be careful, was all. I should have remained far more so.” He sighed. “Still, I canna fault myself too greatly. My soul was too hungry not to reach closer and closer toward you when ye reached back.” 

“But there came a time when you knew you did have to stop reaching?” I asked, recollection suddenly falling into place and providing an answer that had weighed heavy upon my heart for so long. “Leading up to when I gave you back the dragonfly?” 

“Aye, just so. I’m afraid, well,” he said stiffly, rolling onto his side so that we were face-to-face, “it wasna verra gracefully handled, on my part, that parting of ways.”

“Nor mine,” I murmured, remembering how hard I’d hurled his gift at his feet.   

As though reading my mind, he drew out the cherrywood oval (I must have dropped it on the hill) and laid it between us. I kept running my thumb around the design, the path swirling and looping like that of the insect itself in flight. The memory of that last —or what I’d thought to be our last —encounter swirled about just as vividly.

“I know now that you only said it to distance yourself…. that bit about ‘needing a man to congratulate me,’ but, you know, even that experience taught —”

“Did I truly say that? God, Sassenach, please forg — ”

“Yes, but listen: Anytime I found myself in conflict, or feeling sorry for myself, it’s been my small check: am I only seeking praise? Or needing to be coddled or admired? Or is this a fight that truly must be had? A path that must be taken? It was painful, but looking back, it was an important truth I needed to learn, and I came out the better for it, thanks to you…and a little heartbreak.”

“Heartbreak,” he repeated softly. “…..Did ye love me, then? Love Danton?” 

“I don’t know if I can answer that.” 

It was as honest an answer as I could give. To him, or to myself. 

“And…. ye truly never recognized me, when ye went back and met Jamie Fraser?”

I considered for a long time before answering, delving the shadowed memories carefully in search of a moment where a spark might have lit, unknown, unrecognized. 

“I did think about you — about Danton — many times over the years. It was always so achingly sad, remembering the loss of that friendship and how terribly it had ended. But you did your job well, darling,” I said with a kiss. “I never did capture a true likeness of your features in my mind behind that — Good lord, that bloody great beard and mane of hair! How did you — You dyed it? — For all that time? Jesus!” 

We laughed together, teasing and joking before sighing and settling once more. “Although, who’s to say? Perhaps when I saw your eyes that night when your shoulder was injured, maybe something with me knew…”

“Maybe…” he agreed. “That night in the ditch….” 

I studied his face, noticing now the tiny wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth.

“Ye let me hold you,” he said, his arm slipping around my back to draw me closer. “I shall never forget the moment when I reached ye and your arms went around me. It was one of the most—intimate moments in my life.”

“Surely I did know, somewhere deep down,” I whispered, trembling at the memory, still new, rushing back, “that you were more than just my friend. Even later, when we wed, the depth of feeling was so shocking, that— In the ditch, maybe I knew in my soul that you were my one mate, and such a truth was too difficult to reconcile, and so my mind just…blacked it all out. I’m not sure I could have dealt with those feelings, at the time.” 

He nodded, slowly.  

“Thank you,” I said, touching his face, “for coming to find me on that road. I was so afraid, but to know you were with me…” 

“If I was able to help—to give you comfort, mo nighean donn, if only for a little time…. and to feel you in my arms… tell ye all my heart…. ”

“Have hope in the joy to come.” 

“I do, mo chridhe,” he said with feeling, kissing me. “I have so much joy I canna contain it.” 

“But that’s what I remember you saying, in the ditch, too. To be brave…that joy was ahead….” My voice broke. “ And it was.” 

“It is,” he murmured, pulling me down and covering me. “It’s here.” 

“It breaks my heart that you were so long alone, Jamie.” I was crying again, though I’d promised myself I wouldn’t. 

He was at my back, curled around me. “Don’t think on it,” he bade with a sad smile in his voice, shaking his head against my shoulder. ‘There’s no good can come of it. It’s past, now. ‘Tis finished.” 

You couldn’t simply forget it,” I pointed out, desperately trying to stop the tears, “if it were me that had lost so m — so many years.”

“It wasna lost,” he vowed, tilting my head back and kissing me softly. “I did what I could for my wife. I had a purpose, in the end. I was meant to be there for ye on that dark night, and many others, though I knew it not at the time. For myself, Claire, I am at peace.” 

He placed another kiss in the crook of my neck. “If unexpected blessings came to ye in those years from it, there were many laid at my own feet as well.” He rolled, and I heard him rummaging before he was back, placing the battered journal in my hand. “Ye kept me sane, here on these pages.”

I flipped open to a random entry. “Nine-ninety-one?” I read, puzzled. “The number of entries?” 

“Days,” he clarified, fitting his knees once more behind mine and laying his cheek against my bare shoulder blade. “Since the stones.” 

Christ…and by the end, they were in the thousands. 

“That was the New Year party,” I laughed, easing us into levity by returning to the entry. “Oh, bloody hell, did I really kiss you?” 

“Only a wee peck,” he promised, giving me one himself. “T’was enough to send me into a right state, though.”  

“I always hated that song,” I said, tracing the lyrics he’d committed to the page. “Curse you, Vera Lynn, for making my stubborn heart feel.”

“Mine, too. All those wartime songs made me weep like a bairn.”

“Did they? Even without the tunes?” 

“Aye, the words were the thing. I always wished to believe in their hope, that all would be over soon, and all the sweethearts would be reunited in just a little while, but…” He shrugged, covering his emotion by rolling over to reach for more food. 

I flipped through a few more pages, the breadth and immensity of Jamie’s chronicle absolutely blowing me away; his careful, heartbreaking record of our time apart, year after year after —

Hold on.…Does this mean you’re older than me?!”

He’d just taken a bite, and his answer came in the form of a baffled ‘uerhph?’ and a shower of crumbs over my shoulder. 

“Don’t you see?” I rolled over to face him. “You’re just shy of twenty-five, right? or—well—you were, yesterday, before Culloden, but you’ve lived through seven more years since then, which means at the moment, you’re thirty-one, and I’m twenty-nine.”

He looked genuinely flabbergasted. “I will be damned.”

We stared at one another, then burst out laughing.

“It honestly never occurred to you?” I hooted. 

“Didna really come up,” he gasped out, grinning like a fiend, groaning. “Oh, Christ, but I dinna like this! Not one bit.”

“Why ever for? It scarcely changes anything.”

He sat up, still shaking with mirth. “But I liked being marrit to an older, more experienced woman,” he said, gesturing broadly, “she that could show my virgin self the way of the world.”

“Oh, well, no need for that to change, laddie.”

A slow smile spread across his face as he studied me over his shoulder. “….I’m glad you’re home, Sassenach”

“Me too,” I promised, running my fingers tenderly down his spine. “Erm… where is ‘home,’ incidentally?”

He cleared his throat and turned to sit facing me. “I did want to discuss that wi’ ye. There’s a lot to consider.” 


“There’s Frank, to be starting with.”

Oh dear God, I’d forgotten all about Frank.

“He spent a verra long time here in Inverness, continuing the search for ye once you’d disappeared. He was dogged about it, pestering the police and demanding they continue, all of it to his credit, too. He finally went back to Oxford, though. Hasna been back in over a year, to my knowledge.” 

Frank. My first love. As much as the long-present rifts between us had formed into chasms these last years by my own fateful choice, the thought of him somewhere out there, still grieving me —it was like a millstone tied around my neck, bringing me down from this blissful cloud of happiness. 

“Still, the fact remains that legally, you’re marrit to the man.” 

Ah, yes, and THAT minor detail as well. Jesus H. CHRIST!!

“So, then?” I asked, trying not to let the quaver in my voice show too obviously. “What are we to do?” 

“The first possibility,” he said at once (He’d thought this through, and why ever not?), “—would be that we leave quietly, go to Ireland or America or France or somewhere far away to start anew; somewhere gossip wouldna follow and he would have no reason to travel. Frank would never need to ken you’d returned, that way.” 

“Just run? That seems rather….wrong.” 

 “Still, I’ll not insist that ye face him.” He shrugged. “Ye dinna owe him anything, Sassenach. 

“Don’t I?” Surely an explanation, at the very least, if not the truth. “And leaving the country? Going to America? Don’t you want to stay in Scotland?”

“The where doesna matter, Sassenach,” he said simply. “Only, I want to make sure ye feel safe. If ye canna be at ease, on this island, knowing that there’s always the chance of encountering Frank Randall, then we’ll go elsewhere, where thought of him canna dog your steps; where you can be free.”

It was an alluring prospect, I had to admit, to simply leave and never look back. Still… I was better than that, and wasn’t allowing Frank to drive us to the other side of the globe simply another form of him keeping a hold over me? It was, and I wouldn’t ever be able to convince myself otherwise. 

“I’ll talk to Frank,” I said at last. “I owe him that. He won’t be violent or press charges. We’ll quietly divorce, and unless Frank demands otherwise, you and I will stay in Scotland.”

“You’re sure? That’s truly what you want?” 

A deep breath. Steadfast, Beauchamp. “I’m sure.” 

He grinned and kissed my belly, sliding an arm under my back and hovering over me, beaming. “Then home, my lady, is ready and waiting for ye.”

“What? Where?”

“Can ye no’ guess? I’ve been preparing it for ye. Just in case.

The word, no matter which of us said it first, was home. 


T h e   E n d 

anonymous asked:

5 Viviane and Kallias

So many ideas swirled in my head for these two, but hopefully you enjoy this. (And we can thank a messenger fox for making this possible!)

First Kiss Headcanon:

- Kallias and Viviane technically had their first kiss when they were quite young - though Kallias refuses to consider it their “official” first kiss.

- It’s quite a story that always brings a laugh out of Viviane who vividly recalls that fateful day.

- As a teen Kallias was followed by a flock of females (and a few males) who were out to seek his hand in marriage.

- He fled to the barn where the messenger foxes were kept in the hopes of hiding from his suitors.

- Viviane was in the building playing with the foxes when Kallias arrived breathless from his close escape.

- She laughed when Kallias told her his plight regarding the horde of fae who wished to be his spouse.

- Viviane cheekily offered to be his guard to ward of the suitors along with the little army of messenger foxes.

- Kallias chuckled. Thankful that Viviane’s humor could relieve the stress he was currently feeling.

- He half-heartedly told her that the only way to make the suitors leave is if they believed he was already spoken for in terms of a lover. 

- Immediately once the words left his mouth he wish he could take them back. He wanted more than anything for Viviane to fill that role - to be his lover, friend and wife…but the risk was too great if those of the Court wished to use her against him.

- Viviane, clearly noticing Kallias’ troubled expression, wanted to take away his pain. He was her closest friend and at times she felt that their bond of friendship was perhaps stronger than they imagined.

- So she moved on instinct. Not thinking about anything else other than comforting Kallias.

- Viviane moved to kiss his cheek - a gesture that she had done before and usually brought a sigh of happiness from Kallias, but at that moment a messenger fox leapt into Kallias’ lap. 

- The movement jarred Kallias as he turned his head causing his and Viviane’s lips to collide.

- It was so quick, but the moment their lips touched it was as if the breath was stolen right from their chests.

“Kallias I-!” Viviane leaped up. “I - I didn’t mean to kiss you - well actually I was going to kiss you - but not like that.”

- As Viviane stuttered out apology after apology Kallias was frozen stiff in shock.

- His face turned pink as he recalled how her soft lips felt against his in that brief moment that he wished could have lasted an eternity.

- Of course Viviane chose that moment to take his face in her hands with worry coating her eyes. Her gentle fingers on his cheeks made them flush as she leaned forward to inspect his face.

“Kallias you’re turning red! Should I call a physician? Is there something I can do to help?!”

- Kallias swallowed down the sudden urge to pull her back in for another kiss. And he tampered down the need to tug her into his lap and show her just how exactly she could help him.

- But Kallias brushed those thoughts away like snow upon his shoulders. Maybe one day he could answer those desires, but today was not the day…

- It wouldn’t be until many years later for the to day arrive when Kallias and Viviane would kiss again after he arrived back from Under The Mountain.

- And this time as their lips touched, Kallias made sure that it lasted.

- His fingers threaded in Viviane’s long hair as he poured all of his hope and love into their kiss.

- He could feel Viviane match his need. She desperately tugged him impossibly closer as she kept whispering his name between breaths.

- Their tongues tasted each other and their hands were constantly in motion.

- Each of them murmuring words that they had been holding back for so long - words that echoed from the depths of their souls and spoke of a dream that had finally became a reality.

- Their reunion of a kiss sent them tumbling into the snow where they finally broke apart slowly yet their hands remain latched onto each other.

“Now that was a kiss,” Viviane whispered.

“And I plan to do that everyday for the rest of our lives,” Kallias paused. “If you’ll have me that is.”

- Viviane blinked. “Are you…proposing?” Hope laced Viviane’s tone as her eyes widened in disbelief.

- The nervous smile on Kallias’ lips was enough to answer her as he brushed snow from her hair and rested his hand upon her blushing cheek.

- For the next hour Viviane made sure that her answer was quite clear amid kisses and touches that made Kallias moan in happiness.

- And so Kallias’ dreams of Viviane being his lover, friend and wife came true…and to both of their delight they would soon add mate to those titles as well.


Originally posted by thefirstgingerdoctor

Pairing: Peter Pan x Reader

Prompt:  anonymous asked: okay so I’ve been looking through a LOT of your imagines and its safe to say that i frikin love ur blog and i was wondering if you could do one of peter pan x reader where the reader is watching the campfire at the corner and peter comes up from behind (theyre dating btw) without her knowing and starts kissing down her neck and teasing her there and id love it to be just really cute and pan whispers some inappropriate things and end in smut + lots if foreplay :))

Anonymous asked: YOOO YOUR SMUT IS SO GOOD THANK YOU!!!! More Peter Pan smut okay? ;) Robbie Kay is a sexy devil. But seriously ur writing is so talented you should be proud

Warning: SMUT!                                                                                    

A/N:  I am going to hell. Enjoy darlings!


You had traveled to just about every realm, but you can honestly say Neverland was your favorite. When you had first arrived you knew you were going to love dense-jungle island. It held such magic and wonder that you felt like you had jumped into a fairytale. Well, you kind of had, but that’s beside the point.

When you had first arrived, Peter and his Lost Boys were wary of you, having never had a girl come to the island before, not including Wendy, of course. As time went on, however, the boys learned to love you, seeing you as an equal and friend. Peter had taken an extra special liking to you, though. Two months into your stay in Neverland, the beautiful demon boy had pulled you the most beautiful spot in Neverland, and for the first time, had told you of his love for you. Ever since then, the two of you could rarely be seen without the other. You made him into a better person, the person he thought you deserved, and for once in your life, you could say you were genuinely happy.

It was night; the day had been long day, the boys just now settling down from a day full of games. Most had gone to sleep, but you and a few others had stayed up, watching the campfires glow. You were transfixed by the flames, the colors melding together to create such a wonderful array, it was nearly impossible to look away. You were too lost in thought; you didn’t even hear someone approach you from behind. You felt a pair of lips on the back of your neck, and you jolted in surprise. You soon relaxed, knowing it was Peter. No one else dared to touch you in such a way.

Peter kept placing kisses on your neck, making you moan slightly. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him. You sighed contently, loving the feeling of his body against you.  You felt him press his lips against the shell of your ear, before you heard him whisper in your ear. “(Y/N), kitten, do you have any idea how much I want you?” You gasped sharply at his words, a faint blush dusting your cheeks. “Oh, love, I’ve been thinking about that tight pussy all day. Can’t wait to get you alone, kitten. Gonna make you scream my bloody name.” You pressed your thighs together in hopes of getting some friction, the wetness in your panties growing.

Peter knew what he was doing, and he loved it. He loved the affect he had on you, what a few simple words could reduce you too. He decided to take it a step further by ghosting his hand over your clothed core, the slight touch making you whimper. He smirked against your neck, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “Come on love, let’s get out of here, yeah?” he whispers in your ear, his hands still ghosting over where you want him most. Not trusting your voice, you nodded, allowing him to poof the pair of you back to his treehouse.

As soon as you appeared in his treehouse he slammed you against a wall, his lips harshly covering yours. You moaned against his lips, pressing your back against his with equal fervor. You brought your hands to his head, tugging at the soft hair there. He groaned, and deepened the kiss. You felt his hand in your hair, before he suddenly jerked your head to the side. You gasped at the feeling, before you felt him bite and suck on your neck. You almost whimpered under his ministrations, loving his treatment of you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your body closer to his.

You felt his hand trailing under your shirt, before firmly grabbing your breasts through your bra, his attack on your neck not stopping for one moment. You were too lost in the sensations; you didn’t even hear a faint snap of his fingers. You hadn’t realized what he had done until you had felt a slight breeze against your skin, your eyes moved down and you saw he had made both of your clothes disappear. You laughed slightly, loving how impatient he was. Your laughter died off when you felt the hand that was once in your hair cupping your core.

You moaned loudly, his fingers slowly and methodically tracing your lower lips. His attack on your breasts hadn’t stopped; his hands alone making you tremble and moan. He pinched your nipple, rolling it between his finger and thumb. The same time he did this, he slowly entered one finger into your dripping core. You whimpered, the feelings were becoming too much. “Peter please…” you whimpered out, wanted to feel more. He smirked, before adding another finger, and quickening his pace. You moaned, the delicious friction causing your knees to shake.

You felt you’re high coming quickly, faster than you had anticipated. Your moans becoming louder, faster, the sounds of your pleasure filling the room. You were almost there, until he suddenly pulled away. You cried out, distraught over the loss of his fingers inside your pussy. “Shh, now love, I’ve got you. Gonna make you feel really good, love, I promise.”

He dropped down on his knees in front of you, his face dangerously close to your core. Your eyes widened at the realization of what he was going to do. He smirked up at you, never breaking eye contact as he licked a broad stripe on your pussy. You moaned out, eyes instantly closing, your head falling back slightly. Peter wrapped his arms arounds your thighs, pushing you closer to him. His tongue teased against your entrance, tracing letters to your core. You could barely make out what he was spelling, your head to dizzy with pleasure. M-I-N-E. You moaned loudly at the realization of what he was spelling, his possessiveness over you turning you on even more. He traced the word over your core a few more times, before finally flicking his tongue over your clit. You nearly screamed, the feeling becoming too much. For the second time that night you felt your high approaching again.

Peter pulled away before you could cum, leaving you almost screaming in frustration. He stood up quickly, pressing you against the wall yet again. “Jump.” He said, a commanding tone in his voice. You instantly complied, jumping up and wrapping your arms around his waist, and your arms around his neck. He pushed your back firmly against the wall before attaching his lips to your, reaching between your bodies to guide his cock into your wet heat. He slowly pushed in, the both of you moaning against the others lips when he was fully sheathed inside you.

He started rocking his hips at a fast pace, earning a grateful moan from you.  “Oh, love, you feel so perfect around me. Bet you love my cock inside you, huh kitten?” He moaned in your ear, the sounds of his grunting and panting flooding your senses. You just frantically nodded your head, words failing you at the moment. He started pounding harder into you, his hand trailing between your bodies, suddenly toying with your clit.

You let out a choked noise, you fingers carding in his hair. . His head dropped into the crook of your neck, his movements relentless. You felt your pussy tighten around his cock, your orgasm approaching for the third time that night.  “P-peter! I-I’m gonna…!” you moaned out, wanting nothing more than to cum. “I know, gorgeous. Me too. C-come for me, (Y/N).Cum, now.”  His words sent you over the edge, your grip on his hair tightened as you screamed out his name. He followed you into bliss, your name falling off his lips like a prayers.

When you both came off of your highs, you shakily un-wrapped your legs around his waist, you almost falling to the ground in the process. Peter caught you in time, and picked you up bridal style, before carrying you over the bed. He laid you down on top of the bed before lying down next to you. You turned to get comfortable, sleep almost consuming you, before you felt Peter wrap an arm around your waist, pulling your body against his.

He leaned over and placed a gently kiss on your forehead. “I love you, my little Lost Girl.” He whispered, his hands playing with your hair as a way to lull you to sleep. You smiled sleepily, before replying “I love you too, Peter.” Sleep quickly took over your mind, his motions soothing you. Peter smiled at your sleeping form, wondering just how he got so lucky to have you in his life.

Title: Jacket

Warnings: None

Request: @saad-sack had a super cute idea for this Halloween imagine. I hope you liked it!

Note: I have 2 more Halloween imagines coming out, one on Thursday and one next Monday. I hope you enjoy!

Links: My Master List  and My Current Requests

“Hand.” you said, offering your hand to your nephew who was walking ahead of you. He stopped, reaching up, his tiny hand folding into yours.

“How many houses can we go to, (Y/N)?” he asked curiously, his bright eyes shining up at you eagerly, shaking his empty candy bag as if measuring how much he could potentially carry.

“Well, trick-or-treating lasts for two hours. So…”

“Two hours?!” he screeched. “Then let’s go!” he yelled, your arm straightening in front of you as he pulled you forward, straight into a tall, blond someone.

“Oh gosh. I’m really sorry.” you rushed out. “I just—William?!” you said, your eyes finally locking on the face of your childhood friend who was smiling in front of you. “What are you doing here?”

He laughed, tucking his hands in his pockets. “I was just visiting my grandparents, I took a detour on the way home from our road trip. We have the day off tomorrow so I had a little time to kill. Since you live nearby, I thought I’d try to track you down and say hi.”

“Wow, well hi.” you said happily. “It’s really good to see you. I haven’t seen you since—”

“Our last playoff game this spring. And I wasn’t the most gracious host after that loss.” he interjected. “It’s been too long, I’m glad I ran into you.”

“It was understandable.” you said. “I was—” You stopped when Nash tugged on your arm, looking up at you anxiously.

“Are we going?” he asked, watching as other kids started coming out of their houses, candy bags in hand.

“Oh, I didn’t realize I was interrupting.” William said quickly. “I was just going to swing by and say hello then head to the airport, so.”

Keep reading


summary: In which Taehyung broke your crystalline heart two months ago, and you come back for answers. You get a bit more than you bargained for.

Word count: 3.9k

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: smut

A/N: I am a new account, so please bear with me! I’m trying my best~ Though I am a heavily MX centric blog, I write for many group fandoms; feel free to drop by my ask to request (or just to say hi!)  

He hadn’t noticed that you had entered the room yet. The setting sun’s light spilled into the room, casting an almost crimson sheer across the interior, tinting the air in front of you with brilliant colors. Golden light glinted off of his midnight hair, which fell forward in front of his narrowed eyes as he surveyed the messy spread of paperwork in front of him. A pen dangled loosely from the corner of his mouth, moving slightly as he leaned forward to shuffle through the stack papers. His brow furrowed as he skimmed a particularly dense packet, the Bighit brandname catching your eye at the top of the page. He was the image of perfect serenity and concentration.  The scene was so incredibly him. His jaw tightened as he read, clenching and unclenching, creating that perfect, sculpted angle that your lips had run over countless times, the insidious memory of the taste of his salty sweat on your tongue as he panted your name in your ear, voice dark and raspy, invading your mind. Your chest constricted at the thought and you found yourself suddenly weakening, your legs slightly giving. Your fingers dug into the doorframe, a measly attempt to ground yourself properly. You have to do this, you told yourself. You deserve closure.

“Taehyung.” His name felt foreign on your tongue, the sound crawling out of your throat clumsily. It sliced into the serene air, any perception of peace clattering to the ground. Tears stung your eyes, but you forced them back. You needed to do this.

He stiffened at his desk, recognizing it was you without having to even lift his head. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed with noticeable difficulty. “Y/N,” He whispered, almost inaudibly, and you couldn’t tell if he was saying it to himself or to you. Pain flashed in his eyes as he lifted his head, slowly drinking in your appearance as his gaze traveled up your body. For a second, you swore you saw a flicker of wistfulness (or was it pain?) twisting his features. But the emotions in his eyes were quickly buried behind a mask of ice. “What are you doing here?” His deep voice broke slightly, a fracture in his façade.

So he was in pain too. You hoped it was in the same magnitude that you had felt it. The same pain that you had endured for the past 2 months every single night, as you wondered what you had done wrong. The same excruciating pain that you had muffled with the superficial, dulling haze of alcohol, the same pain you had felt during those long nights where you were completely alone and you swore to yourself that it would get better, that the pain would fade, but it only ever got worse. You hoped it was the same pain. Anger filled your veins, igniting your body into an inferno. “Why’d you do it?” You spat the words out, dripping with poison.

Taehyung didn’t flinch. You hated him in that moment. His head dropped back down to his papers. “What are you talking about?” Ice cold. His words cut deep into you, leaving invisible bone deep lacerations across your body.

“You fucking asshole.” The words sounded wrong coming out of your mouth. You hated cursing, and Taehyung knew that. You stalked over to him, blood roaring in your ears. He stood slowly from his chair, not moving as you approached.

You were less than two feet away from him, the familiar scent of his cologne invading your senses. A searing pain shot through your heart. “Why did you do it?” You repeated, but this time you were unable to maintain the same caliber of acidity and your voice gave slightly. “Why’d you stop talking to me? Why did you reject my calls, ignore my messages? Why couldn’t you have just been a man and told me that you stopped—you stopped loving me?”  You felt your resolve crumbling, heard it in your own broken voice. Taehyung didn’t say anything, and that only further exacerbated the crushing feeling in your chest. “I hate you.” You declared, slamming a fist against his chest. “I hate you.” Again, with the other hand. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.” It was a mantra, and you slammed your small fists into his hard chest as you repeated it over and over, hoping it would mend the broken shards in your body. It was anger in your body once more, burning dangerously hot. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate y-”

Taehyung caught your fist, his larger hand easily dominating yours and halting its motion. “Stop,” he whispered, his voice strained. He took a step forward, forcing you backwards, and kept on doing so until your back pushed against the cool surface of the plaster wall, your arm pinned above you with his chest mere inches from yours. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He hissed , eyes dark.

You couldn’t breathe, not with him so close to you, not with his full lips so near your own. His head dropped down, face than 6 inches from yours, and he used his free hand to tilt your head back so your eyes met his. Dark and gorgeous. His jaw was clenched, neck muscle tense.

“I hate you,” you repeated, your voice hollow. Yet you were unable to stop yourself from closing the distance, unable to stop your lips from pushing against his. He stiffened momentarily in shock, his breath catching in his throat as your soft, gentle, familiar mouth caught his. Taehyung moaned lowly against your lips as he gave into you, sending pleasant vibrations through your body. His lips, soft and pillowy but also rough in their own way, worked against yours intensely, and he pushed even closer, his hard body flush against yours. His free hand slipped underneath your blouse, grazing the sensitive spot on your hip that he knew to be your weakness after spending countless nights like this with you. Your legs gave at the touch and he shoved his thigh between your legs as he felt your legs weaken, holding you up as you melted into him. The fist that he kept pinned above you fell open and he intertwined his fingers with yours, still keeping it pinned against the cold wall. Your eyes drifted shut as you immersed yourself in him, waves of nostalgia and desire coursing through your body as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. A light moan slipped out of your lips as his thigh between your legs grazed your apex, your free hand sliding up from his tight stomach to dig into his full hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling.

You broke from the kiss, gasping for air. Taehyung’s head hung above you, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling with heavy, aroused breaths. You watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed slowly,  his head falling down into the crook of your neck. Hot breath spilled across the sensitive skin there, goosebumps erupting along the surface. “Y/N,” he murmured, so softly that you almost thought you imagined it. His soft lips were at your throat and your eyes fluttered shut, your head falling back against the wall. You needed him. His lips ghosted the delicate skin along your throat, slowly drifting down to your collarbone, then slowly down your chest, unbuttoning your blouse as he went. Everywhere he touched became alight with heat and fire, a direct contrast to the cool air hitting your newly exposed skin. Then he was pulling your skirt off your body, ripping the delicate fabric in half, exposing your legs to the light in the room. You had chosen to not wear underwear. Taehyung groaned lowly at the sight. “Fuck.” He muttered, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. He stood suddenly, pinning you against the wall once more, his muscular thigh wedged between yours. You were growing impatient, pure desire and need threading its way through your veins and you grinded desperately against his thigh, hoping for some sort of contact to ease the intensity of the flames burning you from inside. You could feel him pressing against you and you knew he wanted this just as much as you did. His arms caged you in from both sides of your head, so it seemed there wasn’t nearly enough room in the office for the two of you. His scent was all around you, filling your lungs, your head. You were going to go crazy. He looked down at you through half-lidded eyes, dark and dangerous, and full of lust.

Taehyung kissed you this time. His hands slid under your shirt, along your waist. His fingertips brushed against your weak points, lips worked furiously against yours, saying all that had been unspoken for the last two months. Light moans fell uncontrollably from your mouth as his lips moved from your lips to your jawline, tracing along the creamy skin, and then drifting down your neck, pearl white teeth flashing and nipping at your throat.

Small gasps of pleasure escaped your mouth as your fingers worked quickly at his belt buckle, moving gracefully and quickly in a familiar pattern they had performed many times before. He shrugged off his pants quickly, pulling away from you briefly to kick them off. The skin where his heat had just been felt unnaturally and uncomfortably cold. The heat in you was becoming almost unbearable, and you had never been the patient type. His black tie hung teasingly in your sight, tight around his sensitive throat. You grabbed him by it and yanked him close, your teeth grazing his ear. “I need you. Right now.”

Taehyung groaned throatily in response. “I’m really going to go crazy,” he said in his slow, tantalizing drawl that had captivated you so long ago, encasing you in warmth. His long fingers wrapped around your thin panties, ripping them off with ease. “You’re so wet.”  It fell out of his lips in a sigh. Without warning, he slammed three fingers into you at once, eliciting a sharp cry of surprise and pleasure that curled from your throat. Your fingers entwined themselves into his hair, grabbing it by the fistful as heat rushed downwards. He slid his fingers out slowly, tortuously slowly, his fingers coated in your juices, before slamming them back into you again. He repeated it slowly, drinking in the sight of you coming undone around his fingers. You couldn’t bear the intensity; the coil in the pit of your stomach wasn’t satiated. “Faster,” you panted in his ear, “please.” With that, he pounded his fingers in and out of you, fingers scissoring as they entered you again and again, pushing you closer and closer to your high. Screams escaped your mouth as his pace became almost unbearable, stars appearing in your vision. Taehyung’s long fingers slid in and out of you with ease, filling you deeply, slamming into you at an unthinkable speed, but it wasn’t enough, you needed him inside of you. “Taehyung,” you managed weakly between gasps. “I need…I need you to fuck me. Please.” You had never begged for him like this, not in the years you had been together. But now was different. You needed him on a wholly different level of lust and desire. “Please. Fuck me.”

It visibly caught him off guard, his jaw clenching as he took in your words. “You have a dirty mouth,” he managed, thickly. You were lifted into the air with ease by your waist, and then you were slammed down onto the entirety of his thick length. He took the fingers that had been inside of you and placed them in your mouth, effectively muffling the raw sounds of pleasure that rocked out of you as your body struggled to take in his entire length at once. He gave you no time to adjust, despite the fact that you hadn’t been spread open this wide for two months, and a shard of pain mixed with the abyss of pleasure you felt you were drowning in. Your legs wrapped around his back, attempting to push him deeper, but he refused to move. Not even an inch. You felt the sensation of being completely filled by his long cock, but you needed more, and he still hadn’t even moved. You whined impatiently, struggling to wriggle your hips for some friction.

Taehyung slid slowly out of you, marveling at how quickly you had coated him, pulling out until it was almost at the tip, before slamming back into you once more and eliciting a cry of pleasure from your throat. He watched the conjunction between your bodies, feeling as if he’d go insane from the feeling of you tightening desperately around him, your body trying to milk out a reaction from him. You were driving him crazy, and it was all he could do to not lose himself completely in the ethereal beauty that was you.

“Fuck me,” you had said, and it was all he could do to not lose himself right then and there. He buried himself into you once more, hilt deep, and then he could no longer hold himself back. He pounded relentlessly into you, your lips forced to spread wide to take in his entirety again and again as he slammed himself into you, almost animalistically. The sound of skin hitting skin filled the room, Taehyung’s low groans vibrating in your ear. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he murmured as he sank himself deep into you, pulling almost all the way out before burying himself down to the hilt. You dug your heels into the small of his back, forcing him impossibly deeper into you and drawing out a deep groan from him as he fucked you against the wall. Your back rubbed against the wall each time he thrusted into you, adding an edge of pain that only served to amplify your pleasure. When your lips found their way to his sculpted jawline, suckling gently on the spot that you knew made him weak, Taehyung slammed his hand into the wall behind your head. His head bowed and a low growl emitting from his throat. “Y/N,” he managed, his voice breaking. “Oh god, Y/N.” Your name fell from his lips like a prayer. The coil in the pit of your stomach tightened even more and you found yourself teetering at the edge as he rutted into you.

“Oh god, oh god, oh GOD!” You cried out as he pounded impossibly faster, moving almost inhumanely quickly. It was a crescendo of sensations, blood roaring in your ears as you approached your high, fingernails digging deep into muscular shoulders, back arching impossibly far, mouth falling open in increasingly loud moans and gasps. A scream ripped out from your chest as he slammed into once more, the coil in your stomach unraveling at a ground shattering magnitude. It was as if you had hit a wall of pleasure; it crashed over you in waves, overwhelming all your other senses as pure euphoria filled your used body, your toes curling and your breasts pressed flush against his chest as you came violently over him. The feeling of you coming completely and utterly undone around him almost made him lose himself, but he stubbornly held on. He continued to thrust shallowly to allow you to ride out your orgasm. Your walls desperately attempted to milk out his orgasm, but he wasn’t finished yet, pulling out as you drifted down from your high.

Taehyung walked you over to his desk and bent you over it, ripping off the black tie that had loosened while he was fucking you and using it to bind your hands behind your back so you couldn’t touch him or yourself. You barely registered the feeling of the cool silk tightening around your wrists as he bent you over the desk, still not completely recovered from your first orgasm. This time, he slid himself into you slowly, giving you a second to adjust as he allowed himself to give in to you.

“You feel so good,” you murmured. You pushed your hips back, forcing him deeper into you and eliciting a dark groan of pleasure for him. “Please.”

Taehyung started again, thrusting slowly, pulling out before burying himself down to the hilt. He leaned forward, his lips brushing your ear and he nibbled it gently as he fucked you, sending shivers shooting down your spine. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…” Your name fell from his lips like a mantra, the taste of your sweet skin on his tongue and your name in soft pants by your ear. His noises were guttural, the sounds coming from this throat deep and husky. His thrusts were gentler this time, but somehow the pleasure had increased tenfold, igniting each cell in your body once more. He built his speed slowly, gradually increasing until each of his thrusts shook the table and you shifted slightly so that you didn’t lose your balance. “Fuck,” he murmured again as you let out a mewl of desire, and then he rammed himself into you once, hard, and you gasped aloud. He smirked to himself, leaning to grab on edge of the desk to give him more leverage as he pistoned into you.  

The new angle hit deeper into you, euphoria once again thundering through your veins. “So good,” you managed to whimper through the pleasure.

Taehyung wasn’t satisfied, though, and he yanked the tie bondage back, forcing your back to arch a certain way and granting him access to your g-spot. When he rammed into it, black spots of pleasure danced in your vision. The sensation was wholly different from anything you’d felt before and you were unable to suppress a cry of pure pleasure as he did it again. Taehyung smiled at the sound you made, though you couldn’t see him. He continued to pound into you, hitting that spot again and again, pleasure building up in you as your moans became more and more desperate. “Say my name,” he groaned into your ear.

“I hate you,” you responded, despite the fact that you were teetering dangerously on the edge once again, pure euphoric pleasure about to erupt. His teeth scraped along your shoulder blades, chills erupting in icy flames where he touched. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.” Taehyung only fucked you harder, and then you were falling, white clouding your vision as pleasure exploded in your center and weaved its way throughout your entire body, your body to writhing underneath him.

“Taehyung.”  You gasped his name as the pleasure overcame all your other senses. Your second orgasm was much stronger than your first, your body quaking uncontrollably in response to his.

He pulled out, untied your hands with a quick tug, and turned you around in a quick movement, skillfully picking you up once more and slamming you back down on him so that you were in the same position you began in, you chest pressed flush against his. “Taehyung.” You sighed his name into his ear once more, breathy and barely audible, but from the way his hips stuttered, the way his breath caught in his throat, you knew it was enough. He came with a shuddering groan and his head fell down to the crook of your neck, sweaty forehead pressed against the sensitive skin as his groaned your name into your collarbone. The sound of his shallow pants filled your ears. “Y/N,” he whispered as his hot seed spilt into you, burning. You ran your fingers through his soft hair soothingly as he thrusted shallowly into you to ride out his orgasm and he bit your shoulder as he finished.

The room was silent except for the sound of your combined heavy breaths, the room filled with the smell of sex and the feeling of Taehyung’s warmth radiating around you. He set you down on the table, still inside you, head still in the crook of your neck.

You felt the beginning prickles of regret slither into the crevices of your mind. How could you have done this? How could you have let yourself be hurt by him, again? Suddenly, you felt cold, like ice. Swallowing, you weakly lifted your hand and pressed it flush against his chest, trying to ignore the pounding heat under his skin, trying to ignore how it pulled you in like a magnet. You squeezed your eyes shut and forced yourself to apply pressure, beginning to push him off. Taehyung’s hand  shot upwards, catching your arm by the wrist gently.

“Wait…just…" He swallowed with difficulty, closing his eyes. “Wait a minute.”

Your hand tangled back into his midnight black hair, stroking gently as he leaned against you. "Ok,” you said.

After what seemed like eternity but couldn’t be long enough, he pulled out. You felt hollow without him.

After the two of you redressed in silence, you walked over to the wall, turning and sliding your back down against it until you were sitting on the ground. You drew your knees to your chest, feeling cold now that you didn’t have his burning skin against yours. After a moment, Taehyung walked over next to you and slid down as well, his shoulder bumping yours.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, after a moment of silence. “I couldn’t keep watching you bury your pain and disappointment for me. How you lost any and all semblance of privacy, how you were constantly attacked by sasaeng fans, how you had to turn your back on your life before me, with no reward. I couldn’t even see you often, but every time I did you were hurting.” He swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

You turned your head to look at him in surprise. His head fell back against the wall, exposing his neck, his eyes closed. “You idiot,” you breathed, in utter disbelief. “You were the best thing I had, Taehyung. I was never hurting when I was with you. I only hated to see you so exhausted and worried for me.” You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers. He squeezed back lightly. You continued, speed picking up. “I love you. Regardless of failure or success, I will always love you. What I’ve endured, I’ve done it willingly, without any regrets. I’ve done it because I love you. Don’t internalize everything to protect me, Tae. I don’t need to be protected.”

Taehyung’s head fell to his chest. “I love you.” He rubbed the top of your hand with the pad of this thumb. “I missed you…so much. I hope—I hope that you can still take me back after what I did. I love you, Y/N.”

You tilted your head so that it fell onto his shoulder, staring at your intertwined fingers. “Always.”

Nightmare [Rick Grimes x Reader]

Ok so i thought of a really detailed smut request lol. Rick finds the reader (young girl like 20) and brings her back to alexandria and shes very scared and standoffish so rick lets her stay at his house. At night she has a bad dream and crawls into bed with rick in just her tshirt and panties and tells him she had a bad dream. He feels guilty and says they shouldnt be in bed together but she seduces him and touches him and he finally gives in. Im like beyond excited ab this lol. Pls and thk u!

I could not WAIT to write this one, OMG. Hope you like it anon! 💝

Warnings: SMUT, Swearing, unprotected sex, dirty talk, seduction, oral sex (female receiving)

Words: 3,023

A/N: Enjoy some grade A Rick Grimes filth. I feel like I should dunk myself in some holy water after writing this. 

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Our Little Secret (Part 2)

Bucky x Reader 

Warnings Swearing. This part is setting us up for what’s coming.

Summary: After your friendship with Steve ends, you’re sent on an undercover mission with his best friend.

WC 1980

AN It’s long. I’m sorry. I’ve never posted something that wasn’t complete yet so this is very … scary for me.

You had two days to prepare for your next mission. You asked - almost  begged - Director Fury to send you on the longest mission he had coming up and thankfully, he obliged. The bruising around your face worked with your cover and you were almost grateful to Sam for breaking your nose.

Fury was sending you to Europe with Bucky as your partner and you weren’t altogether thrilled about the pairing. You had nothing against Bucky personally, he was pretty quiet and mostly kept to himself, though the few times he broke out of his shell you found him to be funny and sarcastic but also deep, but… he was Steve’s best friend. You were worried it was going to be awkward. Especially since your cover was that of a rich heiress and he was supposed to be your newest boy toy. The broken nose was easily explained as a healing nose job and Bucky’s role would explain why he was always in close contact proximity to you but you weren’t sure you could pull it off.

Some rich family was dealing in arms and you were to infiltrate them via their younger son to try to gain intel since Fury wasn’t sure if it was low level arms dealers or something bigger. You were estimated to be there for a month which normally you’d consider too long for a single mission. This time, you were ecstatic to be out of the tower for a whole month. In fact, you wished the mission was longer.

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anonymous asked:

the baby ian chapters are aboslutely killing me with love. Sounds as are there no complications with mother or baby? Can't wait to see them all at home! love the blog thank you all

Flood my Mornings: Beeyin On Board

Notes from Mod Bonnie

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment:  Ian (V), (All four FMM Frasers together for the first time) 

July 26th, 1951

“You know….you can drive faster, darling. I won’t mind one bit.”

Jamie flashed me a brief, dazzling grin before doing absolutely nothing about it save returning his attention to the road. 

“Not only would I not mind….” I went on, clearing my throat dramatically, “….I might insist that you go faster than—” I peered at the gauge. “Good Lord, Jamie, TEN miles per hour??” 

“Oh, but ‘tis a grand speed,” Jamie said brightly, moving through the next turn with all the haste of a particularly unambitious glacier. “Dinna fash yourself, Sassenach, I’ll do.” 

“Well, I might not,” I spluttered, shifting Ian more comfortably in my arms. “At this rate, it’ll be three hours before we get home, and by that time, I’ll have pissed all over the seat!”

“Piss to your heart’s content, my lady,” he said with a courtly flourish of the hand, and damn me, if he wasn’t completely serious. “I’d rather that kind of accident than the other.”

Despite the demands of my bladder, I laughed, and Jamie did too. “I’ll get faster wi’ time, I promise,” he offered of his own accord, looking a little sheepish even as he exerted enormous concentration upon the line of cars before us. “Only, it’s the first time driving wi’ the lad aboard wi’ us and—well—I wish to be cautious, is all.”

“I know, sweetheart.” I laid a hand gently on his leg, squeezing gently and smiling. It was nearing dusk, a treacherous time of day for motorists in any circumstances, so his caution was well-placed.  "No matter how long it takes, I’m only glad we’re going home.” 

He exhaled with a smile. “Aye, at last.”

Honestly, we had had an easy go of it, all things considered. When Bree was born, she and I had stayed in the hospital for a full two weeks. One was customary, as far as American postpartum care was concerned; the second had been deemed wise by Dr. Reynolds in light of my cesarian incision and Bree’s time in the NICU. I had been more than happy to comply, if it ensured she was safe and well. 

With Ian, though—the both of us progressing well, with no complications whatsoever—I had been positively ITCHING to get out of the bloody hospital, and Reynolds, bless him, allowed it after only four days of observed convalescence. “I’ve broken all the customary policies and procedures for the Frasers,” he said with a smile as he initialed and signed the discharge forms, “why not complete the set?”

It was true, too. From Jamie’s presence both during the birth and near-constantly afterward, to my refusal of sedation, to my insistence upon breastfeeding both at once and exclusively, we had caused quite a stir in the normally rigid parameters of the modern maternity ward. God bloody Bless Dr. Reynolds: a man ahead of his time, if ever I met one (and I had, at that). 

Jamie had split those four days between the hospital and being home with Bree. Beyond the promised respite from the stresses of the hospital, the greater part of the relief of going home was that we would all be together under the same roof; the four of us, starting to figure out the rhythms of this new life.

“How’s he managing?” Jamie asked as we turned (see: ‘crept’) onto the street leading into our neighborhood. 

Wonderfully.” I lifted Ian up closer to my face and kissed that sweet, brown forelock. “Dreaming away.” 

“Good,” Jamie said, his voice warm with a smile as he chanced a few glances at our tiniest passenger.  “It perhaps bodes well, that he sleeps so sound and so often, aye?” 

“Let’s hope so…..What say you, Ian?” I asked of our son (had my talk-to-infants voice always been two octaves higher, I wondered?). “Does this mean you’re going to be kind and let Da and Mummy get their sleep?”

Ian grunted and slowly covered his face with both hands as if to say, Jesus H. Christ, you lot, hush and leave me to it.

Best get used to noise, little winky,” I murmured, leaning my head against his and closing my eyes in contentment. “Your family is quite the lively bunch.” 

“YOU’RE HOMMMMMME!!!!!!!!!!”

“Home, indeed!” 

Jamie set down the bags, closed the door behind us, and caught a pajama-ed Bree up into his arms.  

“Home AND gonna STAY home, aye?” 

“Aye,” Jamie and I promised in unison as Penelope came in to hug and kiss and fawn and be embraced heartily in return. 

Bree leaned over at a ridiculous angle, trying to peer down from Jamie’s arms into mine. “Hi-Beeyin!” she squealed. 

Grinning, I scooped up Ian’s hand onto my finger and mimed a little waving motion. “Say, ‘Hi, Bree!’” 

Brianna giggled insanely, then demanded excitedly of her brother, “Come see the house? Wanna come see it??” 

“Oh, of course he does. Why don’t you show him around?” I said softly, hoping she would take the hint and lower her volume. 

“THIS ONE—” our daughter bellowed, grandly gesturing to the living room as we ambled into it, “—IS—Um—uhhhh….” She furrowed her brows, then leaned close to Jamie’s ear and whispered loudly, “What’s-this-room name’s is, Da?” 

“Sitting room,” he whispered back, lips twitching. 

“SIT-IN ROOM!” she declared triumphantly to the baby without missing a beat. “We sit on’na chairs and play and stuff! An’ Mummy draws on books at’the desk!”  

And in such a fashion, the tour progressed, with Bree giving scattered commentary on each room in the house. As for her brother…Well, Ian’s appreciation of this exclusive inside-look for his benefit amounted to the occasional doleful blink and—as Bree was extolling the virtues of the back garden— an urgent grunting that presaged a nappy-change would be needed very soon indeed. 

After we had bade goodnight to Mrs. Byrd, Ian and I retreated to the bedroom, where I laid him on his back while I got changed into my nightclothes. LORD, did it feel wonderful to be in cotton that didn’t smell of the hospital.

He was wide-awake as I changed him, making little snuffling sounds and starting to look around at his surroundings with more precise intention.  I crooned love and nonsense to him as I worked, praising his efforts and making ridiculous faces in response to his. 

From across the house, I could hear the sounds of Jamie (Bree in tow) locking down the house for the night, the ritual concluding with a familiar, weighty, “Bedtime now, a leannan.”

For once, Bree didn’t immediately respond with bargains and pleas. Rather, I heard a gasp of delight and the pattering sounds of bare feet dancing and jumping in anticipation. “Essighted for Beeyin’s can sleep in MY room!?”

A suppressed laugh, then a slight groan as Jamie bent or squatted down. “Cub, we’ve been over this many a time already, aye? Ian’s got his wee crib in Mummy and Da’s room, and that’s where he’ll sleep.”

“But—Da!—Listen, m’okay?—He likes it better, my room!”

“Is that so?”

“Uh-huh! He saw it an’ he liked it!” 

I snorted a laugh as I finished pinning the nappy. “Your sister is going to speak for you *quite* a lot over the years, sweetheart. I can guarantee it.” 

“Be that as it may, Bree,” came Jamie’s stern rumble from the hall, “he’s too small, aye? When he’s old enough, he’ll most certainly share your room, but he needs to stay close to your Mummy for now, so that when he wakes in the night, he can—”

Even from the next room, I could hear the sniffing and grumbling, the spluttered syllables that meant a tantrum was coming on in force. Shifting Ian up onto my shoulder, I swept into the hall to save the day. “Would you like Ian to sit with you while you have your story, pumpkin?”

And just like that, she was cheering in triumph. 

Bree picked The Poky Little Puppy as that night’s story, and Ian, bless him, stayed awake for nearly the entire recitation. He lay on his back in the middle of Bree’s bed, blinking up at the ceiling and making a whole array of precious, soft squeaking sounds, much to the delight of his sister.  She lay on her belly near his head, chin propped on her elbows, watching his every wiggle in blissful absorption. Jamie’s voice was soothing and warm as he read, his hand just as comforting in mine as we perched on the edge of the bed, watching our little ones watching one another. 

As the ever-vague moral conclusion of the story was about to sound forth, though, Ian began to cry. Well, no, it could be called ‘crying’ only for the first second; after that, the tiny little body was emitting screams loud and piercing enough to wake the dead. 

“Oh, darling….” I leaned forward and touched his cheek with a fingertip, not surprised to see him root at once, seeking a nipple. “No need to cry, my love,” I murmured. “We’ll get you sorted, Ian, don’t worry.” 

Bree had bolted to her knees at once at the sound and was staring down wide-eyed at the squalling, red thing that had been her brother a moment ago. “Wha—What’ssa matter wi’ him?” she demanded. 

“He’s just telling us that he’s hungry,” I explained, preparing to lift Ian up and take him in the other room.

Before I could manage it, though, Jamie abruptly pulled on our still-joined hands and was helping me up off the bed. 

Jamie?” I hissed as I tried to get my feet under me, “—what in the—?” 

Verra sweet dreams to ye, cub,” Jamie said significantly to Bree. “We’ll see ye in the morning, aye?” 

“Wh—” Her head snapped up in alarm. “Where you goin’??” 

“Ye wanted have your brother stay in your room….” We were at the doorway, Jamie’s hand poised over the lightswitch and his brows raised. “….did ye no’?” 

“Ummmmm….Well….” Bree looked absolutely, hilariously helpless as she blinked between us the baby, who was playing his vociferous role to perfection. Jamie’s arm was around my waist, and I could feel his belly shaking with laughter. 

Brianna Fraser did her very best to save face as she fixed her gaze upon Ian and said casually, “He can…maybe sleep wi’ you an’ Mum an’ Da ‘til, ummmm he’s….” Her eyes flicked up to us. “….um-til he stops bein’ hungry?”

Jamie grinned, I giggled, and we both came forward at once to shower her with a thousand kisses each. “That sounds a grand plan, a leannan.” 

The Youtuber and the Actor- Cole Sprouse x Reader

Request: Could you please do a Cole sprouse imagine where the reader is like a youtuber and go to like a events with the crew and everyone doing something then they all hanged out n then Cole like being all cute boyfriend n stuff lili n camila three best friends n stuff thank you heaps 😁💜

A/N: I tried my best with this imagine, although I don’t watch any youtubers and haven’t done for a few years so my YouTube knowledge may not be entirely accurate but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Summary: Cole and the reader practically act like a couple and get teased constantly about it by the crew. Will they make it work?

Warnings: none

Word count: 1'638

With you being a famous Youtuber and Cole being a famous actor it was sometimes hard for the two of you to find time together. But when you did, this time was just made 10x better. You’d met during an interview you’d been given the opportunity to run. You had been given the chance to interview Cole, along with KJ, Lili and Camilla. During the interview yourself and Cole had a connection that you couldn’t explain. The two of you just clicked and afterwards he approached you, and much to your surprise, asked you for your number. You happily obliged and from that day forward, yourself and Cole had been inseparable. You weren’t yet a couple much to your longing, but to someone on the outside looking in, they could be forgiven for assuming that you and Cole had been boyfriend and girlfriend for years. You might as well be. Everybody commented on how cute you were together and how you basically acted like a couple anyway.

You were currently at Vidcon with your YouTube crew and sitting on the main stage doing a live show. You’d been unbelievably nervous before hand as you always were before a big event. One thing that comforted and encouraged you was that Cole was standing close by, in the stage wings watching you. His presence calmed you somewhat and made you feel so much more confident.

The show was slowly drawing to an end which saddened you as you were starting to get into it and bounce off of the energy that radiated from the crowd. They cheered as you stated that the show was over. Your eyes began to well up as you took in all that you had achieved. All of the young people you’d inspired with your work. You waved and blew kisses to your adoring fans as you made your way to the wings where Cole waited for you. “We love you Y/N!” You heard them shout. When you were finally away from the public eye you threw your arms around Cole’s neck. He embraced you tightly, wrapping his strong arms around your smaller frame. “You were amazing Y/N, I’m so proud of you!” He exclaimed whilst hugging you. To hear that he was proud of you was something you had never imagined to hear from Cole, and it honestly melted your heart. What you did was nothing in comparison to his hard work, yet he still acknowledged and praised you for it, which meant more than you could ever express. You thanked him before Cole informed you that the rest of the crew were waiting for the two of you at an ice cream place just down the road. Your eyes lit up at the mention of ice cream and you followed Cole eagerly, excited by the promise of the cold, delicious treat.

The two of you entered the ice cream parlour and spotted non-other than KJ, Lili and Camilla seated around a table in the corner. You made your way over to them excitedly and embraced them all tightly. You were so thankful that they’d come to vidcon solely to support you. You’d visited the Riverdale set so many times to support them all so they saw it only as repaying the favour. Once you were firmly in your seat and babbling with Lili and Camilla, Cole approached you from behind and placed a large hand on your back. You turned your head to look up at him. “I’m just gonna use the little boy’s room, I’ll be back in a minute.” You nodded to him as he sauntered off. You then turned back to your friends. “So are you and Cole a thing yet?” Camilla asked, resting her head upon her hand so she could get a better view of your face when quizzing you. “What? No of course not!” You giggled, in attempt to cover the fact that there is nothing you would desire more. “Cut the crap Y/N. We know you’re both head over heels for each other!” Lili rolled her eyes at your bad acting. It was a good job they were the actors and not you. You were just about to open your mouth to object when KJ cut in. “Yeah it’s quite annoying actually, all Cole ever talks about is you. It’s cute and everything but there’s only so many times I can hear about your ‘flowing hair’ before I want to cut it off!” He laughed and you turned bright red at the thought of Cole talking and thinking about you so often. Your stomach was suddenly plagued with butterflies. Did he really feel that way?

“What are you lot saying about me? Nothing bad I hope.” You heard Cole’s voice from behind you again. You whipped your head around to butt in before anyone else could. “Nothing! We were just saying how very kind it was of you to come to Vidcon and support me!” You covered, mentally wiping the sweat off of your brow at your quick save. The others giggled at your efforts. Your eyes suddenly flickered to the two ice creams in Cole’s hands. Once he was seated beside you he handed one to you and you hesitantly took it from him. “Cole you didn’t have to-” you began, but he quickly cut you off before you were able to finish. “No but I wanted to! You were amazing up there today. Am I not allowed to treat you?” He asked rhetorically. A huge grin found its way onto your face as you placed a soft kiss onto his cheek, however the moment was quickly ruined by the two girls sat I opposite you. “Awwwww you guys!” They exclaimed. “You two are adorable, when the hell are you gonna stop being so stubborn and admit that you’re in love?” Camilla asked and you rolled your eyes. “Camiiiii..” you wined, and rested your head on Cole’s shoulder as you began to demolish your ice cream.

The five of you consumed many ice creams as you sat giggling and simply enjoying each other’s presence. You were so happy to have found people who brought out the best in you, and you thought about how much more happy you would be if you and Cole were a couple. You started to ponder the idea of him ever asking you to be his girlfriend. Your head was still resting upon his shoulder, however this was something you did all the time, and not out of the ordinary. You were suddenly brought out of your thought as Cole nudged your head with his shoulder. He lowered his head to meet your ear and so only you could hear what he was about to whisper. “Can we talk after this?” His voice sent shivers down your spine. You were suddenly filled with dread. Maybe he was going to tell you he didn’t have feelings for you, or that he didn’t want to spend time with you anymore. You nodded your head reluctantly, despite you caution towards the situations.

Slowly the sun began to disappear and you glanced down at your watch to see that it was almost 8pm. The five of you agreed that you aught to be getting back to your hotel rooms, so you all stood from your seats and evacuated the ice cream parlour and went your separate ways once inside the hotel. Your’s and Cole’s rooms were on the same floor so you made your way to the elevator together. Once inside you stood in silence, but it was a comfortable silence. Slowly, your hands inched closer and closer together, until your pinky fingers were linked, before Cole took your whole hand and intertwined it with his his large one. You didn’t look up to him, but instead looked down to the ground as a smile found its way onto your face. Was this really happening?

The two of you exited the lift, hands still linked, and drew to a halt as you arrived outside of your hotel room. You turned to face him and placed a shaking hand upon his chest. “You wanted to talk?” You asked, half excited, half anxious about what he might ask you. “Well I was going to talk, but I’m a strong believer of actions speak louder than words” he informed you and your eyebrows knit together in confusion “so I figured I’d just do this.” He finished, and before you had time to register any of it, his lips crashed into yours. You were to stunned to react at first but slowly eased into the kiss. Your hands found a spot to rest on the back of his neck, and his rested on the door on either side of your head. The kiss seemed to last for hours, but eventually you had to pull away, as the need for air became overwhelming. “Well said.” You chuckled with the small bit of breath you could muster. He laughed aloud and placed a rough hand upon your soft cheek, stroking it in a circular motion with his thumb. “And now all that’s left to do is ask if you’ll be my girlfriend?” He whispered close to your ear, so only you could hear. You were slightly taken aback you met his gaze and nodded gently. “Nothing would make me happier!” And with that, Cole picked you up by your waist and spun you around as fast as possible in the small corridor. He placed you back down onto the ground and pressed a second, shorter kiss to your lips. “I was hoping you’d say that.” And after one more short kiss, Cole began to walk away, backwards, his gaze never leaving yours until he was inside his hotel room, and you were sure you’d never been so happy.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this guys!! Don’t forget to request!

First Broken Heart

George Washington x Reader, Hamilsquad x Lil sister!

OC Modern AU 

Sequel to: Meeting the Family, Becoming Part of the Family, Baby Washington, Welcome to the Family, Bonding 

Author: Lil Laddie

 Words: 1621

 Warnings: Violence, bad break up, overprotective big brothers 

Request: Have you considered writing another sequel for Meeting the Family? Where Alex and the baby bond or going to the distant future where her big brothers beat up boys that flirt with her or the guy who broke her heart? Or both? It’s always up to you, but I would love to read it! -anon 

A/N: I hope this is what you were looking for when you requested it! I honestly love writing about Gwash fam and maybe in the future I want to write about the hamilsquad being the most annoying teenagers that George can’t even handle lol. But I hope you guys like this one! I love y'all! Have a flipping incredible day!!😘 

Over the years you and George had watched the boys and your little girl grow up. Before you knew it, Eleanor was in high school and had a boyfriend that she was head over heels for. The once loud house was now quiet as the boys now went to college or had a steady paying job and apartment. Time had passed much too quickly for your liking and you would sometimes wish to have the old days back when all 7 boys lived with you and George.

“(Y/N)!” George called, running into where you were reading your book in the living room.

“Yes?” You replied, not looking up from the book that was much too intriguing to put down.

“I just got 7 different phone calls from 7 different boys we know. Apparently, they all have decided to come down here for a weekend to take a break from school and work.” George smirked, waiting for your reaction.

“What? They are coming home?” You squealed, jumping up from your seat in excitement.

“Yes.” George chuckled, watching you dance around the room with joy.

“When will they be here?” You grinned, the thought of your boys coming home to see you making you be on cloud 9.

“They will be here Friday afternoon. I already told Eleanor and she is ecstatic to see them again. It’s been much too long since we last saw them.” George said, pulling you to his side and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “The whole family will be here again.”

“You’re still the best dad they could ever hope for.” You complimented, kissing him softly before running out of the room to get ready for the boys.

“All I get is one kiss?” George called after you.

“You can have more once the house is ready! Our boys are coming home!” You giggled, knowing George was left in the living room with a look of disbelief on his face.


Friday had come before you knew it. You and George were pacing the house waiting for the boys to arrive. Eleanor was yet to come home from school, having gone straight to her boyfriend’s house for a little bit. She said she would be home for dinner and would spend most of the weekend with her older brothers.

Breaking the tension of both George and you watching the clock, Hercules slammed open the door and ran at the two of you. Alex, John and Laf  followed quickly after him.

“I’ve missed you guys!” Hercules cried, squeezing both you and George tightly in his arms before the other three stole you and George away in hugs.

“We’ve missed you boys, too!” You laughed, all of them shoving each other out of the way to get another hug from both you and George.

“The favorite child is here!” Thomas announced, strutting through the door with James and Aaron on his heels.

“Boys! Welcome home!” You exclaimed, pulling all three of them into a tight hug.

After lot’s of hugs and kisses, it had finally settled down. Everyone was gathered around you and George in the living room, just like they always had when they were younger.

“Where’s Eleanor?” James asked, noticing that the girl was not in the house.

“She’s at her boyfriend’s house right now. She’ll be back for dinner.” George said, the boys faces all dropping the once wide grins they had.

“Boyfriend?” Aaron asked, his eyebrows furrowed in disgust. “She’s too young to have a boyfriend.”

“Aaron, most girls have a boyfriend in high school. It’s normal.” You shrugged, not really seeing the reason for concern.

“She’ll get hurt! They won’t be able to treat her right!” John exclaimed, his face filled with worry.

“No one’s good enough to be dating her! They probably don’t deserve her!” Lafayette yelled, the other boys nodding their heads in agreement.

“Boys, if we didn’t trust this boy we wouldn’t let her date him. You can talk to Eleanor about it tonight at dinner. She’s fallen hard for this boy, I doubt you could convince her not to date him.” George said, the boys scowling at the thought of a boy having control over their little sisters heart.


All of you were in the kitchen, talking and laughing as George and Laf cooked. Those two were always the chefs of the family. The sound of the front door slamming caught your attentions. As did the loud sniffles and hiccups of Eleanor crying.

“Eleanor?” You called, sprinting to find her, the following your lead.

You ran up the stairs to Eleanor’s room. The door was shut and her quiet crying had turned into loud sobs. She was muttering something you couldn’t understand under her breath. You knocked lightly on the door, hoping she would actually open it.

“Who is it?” She called, her voice raspy from all the crying she had been doing.

“It’s (mom/dad).” You said softly, hearing a squeak come from her mattress.

The door was flung open and Eleanor fell into your arms hiccuping. You held her gently, rubbing her back in a soothing motion.

“What happened?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“H-he dumped me! I loved him!” Eleanor sobbed, holding onto you for dear life.

You held your daughter close to your chest, trying to calm her down. While this was happening, the boys stood a couple feet away watching the two of you with a mix of sadness and rage. No one was allowed to break their baby sisters heart like that.

“Here’s the plan, me, Herc, and Thomas will beat the boy to a bloody pulp while you four go comfort her. Also, figure what he did to her and text it to one of us.” Alex growled, taking charge of the situation.

The boys nodded, splitting into the two groups. George watched them from the bottom of the staircase,  his arms crossed over his chest. Alex, Herc and Thomas almost didn’t see him as they stumbled quickly down the stairs.

“Where are you three going?” George raised an eyebrow, the boys looking at each other in panic.

“We, uh, so you see…” Thomas started, racking his brain for a valid excuse.

“You do know that it’d be illegal for you three to attack this young boy right?” George asked, watching all three of them turn pale at his words. “Don’t doesn’t mean you can’t scare him though. I’m pretty sure his address is on a paper on the entry table, but I’m not sure. Someone must have left it lying around.”

“Thanks dad you’re the best!” Herc grinned brightly, as did Alex and Thomas.

“For what?” George asked, turning to walk up the stairs.

“For giving us the address.” Alex said, wondering why he had to remind his dad.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. In fact, I never saw you before you left.” George turned at the top of the stairs to give the three boys a stern look. “Understood?”

“Yes sir!” Thomas said, giving him a mock salute.


“Was I not good enough?” Eleanor asked, crying into Laf’s shoulder as James held one of her hands tightly.

“Honey, he wasn’t good enough for you!” John exclaimed, only making the girl cry harder.

“If I was too good for him, then why did he dump me?” Eleanor cried, turning to look at John with a glare. “Wouldn’t it have been the other way around then?”

“Ellie, none of these high school kids ever going to be enough for you. You’re amazing and all these kids will pretend to be enough and when they realize they aren’t the run away.” Aaron said, pulling your hair back from your face in a braid.

“Then why did he tell me I wasn’t pretty enough and that he was going to start dating this other girl at my school instead?” Eleanor sniffled, all the boys in the room stiffening at her words.

“He told you what?” George asked, his whole body tense and his jaw clenching.

“He told me I-I wasn’t pretty enough.” Eleanor repeated, her voice cracking from the dryness.

“I’ve never felt more of an urge to kill something.” James muttered under his breath, pulling Eleanor away from the others and into a tight hug. Behind him Laf was quickly typing a text to the others about what they just learned.


You were waiting by the door when Hercules, Alex and Thomas tiptoed inside.

“It’s past midnight, where have you three been?” You asked, watching them jump in shock.

“Sorry didn’t see you there.” Alex chuckled nervously.

“George won’t tell me where you three went. He’s acting like he knows nothing, but we all know he’s a terrible liar. What did you three do?” You asked, the three of them exchanging a silent conversation through nods.

“All you need to know is that we made sure that Eleanor got that apology text from her ex.” Thomas said, avoiding eye contact with you.

“Okay, as long as you boys didn’t hurt him that’s fine. Thank you for doing that, Eleanor did a lot better after he sent that text.” You smiled lightly, the three boys beaming at your praise.

“We did it cause we needed to. Who else is going to protect our baby sister?” Herc smiled.

The four of you didn’t notice, but Eleanor watched from the top of the stairs, smiling at the scene below her. Her big brothers were always going to be on her side and she couldn’t be more grateful. She loved all of them more than anything.

“Thank you.” She whispered, before going back to her room and not having a single thought of the boy that had broken her heart.

Monsta X Reaction : You‘re having a stomach ache

Anon: Do you do reactions? I was wondering if you could do a how would monsta x react to you having a really bad stomach ache?            

A/N: This is my first doing a reaction, so excuse me if this isn’t good :/ But thank you for giving me a chance to try making one, Anon :)



He is clueless of what to do. He doesn’t even know what type of stomach ache or what caused it.

“Is it..the time of the month stomach ache?” He asks awkwardly.

“No, Hyunwoo”

“Does your heart hurt?”

“Just take me to the hospital, please?”

Originally posted by kpop-heaven-247


He keeps searching for remedies on the internet and makes you try all of them.

“What are you searching up now?!” You ask him as he reads articles on how to be sick instead of someone else.

Originally posted by sunraysandmatcha


He walks into the bedroom and sees you curled up on the bed.

“Y/n! What’s wrong?!” He jumps on the bed next to you and strokes your hair.

“My stomach hurts so much” you mumble.

“Hang on. I’ll go get you something that will make you feel better” he tells you as he wears his coat.

He gets out in the pouring rain to get you medicine from the pharmacy across the street.

“Here. I hope this makes you feel better” he hands you the medication when he comes back as water drips off him.

Originally posted by monstxtrash


“How bad is it?”

“My insides are tearing apart, Kihyun”

“I will sue that restaurant. It’s probably food poisoning” he tells you as he dials a number on his phone.

“That was a week ago, Kihyun”

“Their food sucks anyways” he snaps and places his phone over his ear.


Originally posted by areyoufuckingserioussenpai


He would sit in the living room, you on his lap, whispering slow songs to you as he strokes your stomach in circular motions. His other hand would be playing with the ends of your hair.

“Is your stomach better?” He asks.

“Y/n?” He calls when you don’t answer his question.

He looks down at you and sees asleep in his arms.

Originally posted by minyeossi


“Y/n- Why, why are you crying?!”

“M-my stomach hurts” you cry, sitting on the edge of the bed. He kneels down in front of you and wipes your tears.

“Can you walk?” He asks you and you nod.

“I’ll help you up. Let’s go to the hospital” he tells you and you stand up.

He holds you all the way to the car and gets you in. He gets on his side and drives. He keeps glancing at you, asking how you feel all the way to the hospital.

Originally posted by neo-yeppeuda-minghao


He walks in after coming back from work to see you laying on the couch in the living room.

“Changkyun” you call weakly and he rushes to your side.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?” He places his hand over your forehead.

“My sto-”

“Shh, I’ll take you to the hospital” he tells you quietly as he carries you in his arms to his car.

Originally posted by mykeem

Emotions -- Fionn Whitehead, Tom Holland, Reader

I received two requests that kind of appeared to intermingle, so I put them together and got this monster. This looks a lot longer on word…

Thanks for reading – let me know what you think. I don’t have any friends. x

The film is half done – thankfully, your shots have been nothing but perfection.

Although you had initially been hesitant to get roped into a project as big as this one, how many times were you going to be involved in a project for Marvel? And considering this was the next Spider-Man film, you were not keen on getting kicked off for being a terrible actor.

“You’re looking excited,” said Tom as he walked over. “That landing you did was absolutely incredible!”

You both continued to walk towards the trailers, which were situated near the back of the lot. Although you and Tom were in many, many scenes together, you were glad to see that the bond you both shared on-screen existed in your real life, too.

“Thanks, Tom,” you replied while you continued to peel an orange. “Felt good. I feel really good about this movie.”

“Me, too.” He smiled and shoved your shoulder with his, “Maybe they’ll make you Spider-Girl or something.”

You both laughed and you threw your head back a bit. “Don’t get my hopes up Holland.”

He laughed again and his eyes got crinkly near the corners. You threw away your orange peels by the bins near your trailer.

“Are we doing this now or?” You smiled mischievously at Tom. He looked at you for a couple beats and then nodded his head.

“Hell yeah,” he smiled and followed you to your door.

Keep reading

Honestly my favorite part of this AU is how much of a goober Howard is.

“Kill me,” Howard begged.

Maria pursed her lips instead of pointing and laughing at him. “Don’t say that in front of Tony, Howard.”

He frowned at her, confused, and blew his nose. “Tony shouldn’t come in here. I’m sick. I don’t want him to get this.”

“Well he’s going to come in here,” Maria retorted, finishing with her makeup. “I know you said no makeup until he’s thirteen, but can I give him a little blue eye shadow? It’s a special occasion. Just a teensy bit!”

Howard stared up at the ceiling. “…I… suppose. But just this once. And only because it’s a special occasion.”

“Goody!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands, and began picking through her different eye shadows.

Howard frowned at her, unimpressed. “Just a little.

“Of course,” Maria agreed distractedly. “He’s too young to look like a harlot.”

“He shouldn’t ever look like a harlot,” Howard insisted, then began to cough. He leaned into his wife when she came to sit beside him and rubbed his back. “The famous Howard Stark, brought down by a cold. The Howling Commandoes would laugh themselves to the grave.”

Maria rolled her eyes fondly. “I guess it’s good that they’re not here then.”

Howard heard a yelp and then something thumping into the bedroom door. He stared up at the ceiling, frowning. “Why does he have to take after me this way?”

“It’s not my fault you two are too impatient to watch where you’re going,” Maria rejoined, standing up to open the door. “Are you okay, honey?”

“Yeah, it was just my face!” Tony replied happily.

Howard couldn’t help but continue to stare at the ceiling, despairing. Just his face. He had the most beautiful little boy, but whatever. It was just his face.

Tony scampered further into the room. “How do I look?” he asked excitedly, holding the skirt of his blue gown out and turning in a circle.

Blue normally wasn’t his color. Jan was a miracle worker. “You look beautiful, Tony,” Howard told him sincerely. “I’m sorry I can’t go tonight. Everyone is going to be so jealous of you.”

Tony giggled quietly and covered his cheeks, coming to a stop in front of Maria’s floor-length mirror to look at himself. “Thanks, Daddy!”

“Maria,” Howard whispered, motioning her over. When she obediently bent down, he hissed, “Don’t let anyone get ideas about our boy. No marriages.”

Maria choked on a snort. “He’s ten.

“No marriages,” he repeated sternly.

“Alright, honey,” she sighed, rolling her eyes.

There was a knock on the door. Jarvis poked his head inside. “Mrs. Stark, if you don’t hurry you’re going to be late.”

“What?!” Maria looked at the clock and yelped. “Come on, Tony!” she exclaimed, grabbing her shoes and hurrying out of the room.

Tony squawked and ran after her. “Bye Dad I hope you feel better!”

“Thank you, Tony,” Howard told the empty room. He took a moment to feel smug.

Maria came running back in to snatch up the eye shadow and a brush. “I didn’t forget,” she told him, grinning, and left the room again as quickly as she came.

Howard scowled.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Jarvis said, sighing.

“It’s alright, Jarvis,” he replied grumpily. “You did try.”

Having a cold was miserable. Howard couldn’t even sleep well. He worried that Maria would conveniently ‘forget’ that he’d said only a little eye shadow, or that some older child would make fun of him, or worse, like him a little too much. Someone could even insult Jan’s handiwork, and then Tony would get himself into a fight.

Tony was so small. He wasn’t very good at fighting.

“Should I enroll Tony in a self-defense class?” he asked Ana when she brought him soup. He did not think about the very, very rare meat he was missing at the Meeting, because that had been the cause for the only time he threw up earlier in the day.

Ana blinked at him. “Quite honestly I’m surprised that you hadn’t put him in a self-defense class already, sir.”

“I will enroll him in a self-defense class. He will become the most dangerous Stark,” Howard decided.

Ana raised an eyebrow. “You punched a senator a week ago.”

“I am going to punch any bigoted asshole who thinks my wife and child are dangerous just because they can change into wolves,” Howard hissed viciously. “What’s the most dangerous thing Maria has ever done? She’s sat on me.”

“Your wife is the size of a small horse,” Ana pointed out.

Howard drew himself up indignantly. “She has delicate bone structure!”

Ana remained unimpressed. “Finish your soup.”

Howard woke from his doze to the solid thump of little feet running down the hall. He glanced at the clock and sighed quietly, frowning. It was two o’clock in the morning. They typically didn’t get home until five or six. He hadn’t gotten much sleep. He sat up anyway, though, and turned on his bedside lamp.

The door creaked open a little, and Tony poked his head in. When he saw him sitting up, he smiled and stepped inside, bouncing over to the bed. “Hi, Daddy!” he whispered, and might as well have talked in his regular voice for how loud it was. “Are you feeling better?”

“A little,” Howard fibbed. Good. Maria had only used a little eye shadow. “Did you have fun at the Meeting? Did they like your dress?”

“Yes and yes,” Tony answered happily. “Ms. Patterson even said that she’d like to know who made it! Jan’s gonna be so excited!”

The bedroom door opened further, and Maria came trudging in, carrying her shoes again. “Honey, come over here so I can wipe your eye makeup off and you can go to sleep. Your father needs to rest.”

Tony frowned, disappointed, but nodded, walking over to her obediently. He tilted his head as she pulled a piece of cloth out of a package. It looked a lot like a baby wipe. He wrinkled his nose—kind of smelled like one, too.

“Close your eyes,” Maria ordered gently, and removed the faint hint of eye shadow in two expert swipes on each eyelid. “There. Wash your face and go to bed.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Mommy,” he answered, kissing her cheek when she offered it to him, then turned and rushed back over to the bed. “Goodnight, Daddy,” he added, pressing a kiss to his cheek as well. “I hope you feel better.”

“Thank you, Tony,” Howard replied, smitten. He had the sweetest child. “Goodnight.”

Tony smiled at him brightly before scampering out of the room.

Howard waited until he knew Tony was in his room before he turned his attention back to his wife, concerned. “You’re home early.”

“I was worried about you,” Maria admitted. “I know human colds last longer than when werewolves get them, but it still freaks me out.”

“Aw, honey!” he cooed happily. “Howard Stark would never be brought down by the common cold!”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m more worried about the stupid things you’d do while you had the common cold.”

“Jarvis won’t let me use the soldering gun so I don’t see the problem.”

“Idiot,” she sighed fondly, sitting down at her dressing table to begin removing her own makeup. “You’re going to be so mad,” she added, frowning at herself in the mirror.

Howard sat up a little, concerned. “What? Why? Did someone hit on you? Honestly I’m surprised anyone would dare.”

“No,” Maria said, grimacing. “But the Perrin family suggested that perhaps Tony and their daughter Julia would be a good match.”

Howard stared at her, mouth setting into a firm line.

“Of course I said no,” she added quickly. “But then they, uh… said their son might be a good match instead.”

“I’m going to find Mark Perrin and shove my foot so far up his ass that I kick his teeth out.”

Maria couldn’t help but snort at his conviction. “Howard! I already told them no!”

“Tony is ten and will not even be allowed to date until he is twenty-five—”

“Oh my God.”

“—And he will be allowed to marry when he is twenty-nine and not a day sooner.”

Maria laughed quietly. “Howard, you’re the worst.

“He’s my baby!” Howard exclaimed indignantly. “And he’s too good for everyone! Don’t laugh at me, Maria! He is too pure for this world!”

Morning (Grayson)


You awoke to the smell of bacon and maple syrup filling your senses as your eyelids fluttered open. It took you a few moments before you realized that your boyfriend, Grayson, had been calling your name. You rolled over on your side, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, to find Grayson standing in front of you, a tray full of food in hand. You let out a small gasp when you realized he was completely and utterly naked. You had to take a second to pinch yourself because this couldn’t possibly be anything but a dream. Grayson was practically glowing, the morning sunlight hitting him in all the right places. Your mouth must’ve fell to the floor. Grayson couldn’t help the ear splitting grin creeping over his face as he motioned the tray towards you.

“Morning, baby. Thought I’d bring you some breakfast in bed. Are you hungry?”

Your eyes scanned over his naked, muscular form, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“Oh I’m hungry all right.”

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