imagine the fics that could come from this

Happy New Year!

Let’s ring in the year 2017 with a kiss…

But not just any kiss: a Reylo one! <3 <3 <3 

I commissioned this stunning artwork from the amazingly talented @panda-capuccino. It came out way better than I could have ever imagined! Thank you so much for doing this Panda! 

This is the kiss after they say “I do.” 

It’s a scene from the Reylo fanfic Mitzvah, where Kylo Ren and Rey discover they are betrothed and end up getting married :D The fic is amazing and comes highly recommended if you like lost princesses, arranged marriages, and a slow burn that’s also canon-compliant!

Confession

Originally posted by riverrdxle

A/N: I strayed away from the request a bit just to follow a story line that I didn’t really plan, tbh (it just happened, I’m srry). I also switched up my style majorly for this just as an exercise, it’s in 3rd person and all but lemme know what you think and whether this is better, worse, or somewhere in between.

Request:  could you write about Jughead getting a call that the reader just got shitfaced at a party so he has to come get her and take care of her 

Word Count: 3,790 (whoops)

Warnings: Alcohol, swearing (lyk twice)

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Work From Home - Smut

Originally posted by fandcm-world

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Stuart Twombly/Reader
Words: 2,656
AN: A little birdie told me there’s going to be a couple of Stuart fics coming out in the next week….here’s one for ya. I love you guys, I hope you like!


Your boyfriend Stuart worked long hours a lot, and it could get pretty lonely. He loved his job, and you knew it he was good at it. He was incredibly smart, and he’d been chosen out of hundreds of applicants for the internship that got him started with Google, and you were so, so proud of him. You just missed him.

He texted you whenever he had a free moment, asking you about your day, and making plans with you for dinner, telling you stories about his co-workers, or jokes that made you laugh. But sometimes you wished he could stay in bed with you all day, putting those fingers to better use on your body, instead of on his phone or computer.

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Request: Sharp Objects

Request: HI I love your fics!! could you do a deanxreader where dean broke his right hand on a hunt and can’t shave himself so the reader, with hidden feelings for dean, does it for him with lots of fluff please

Word Count: 1,270

Thank you<3

“Ouch! Jesus Christ, that’s a bitch.” The muffled cursing comes from behind the bathroom door, then followed by the clinking sound of something falling into the ceramic sink, and finally a, “Son of a bitch!”

Despite the laundry pile you’re carrying, you swerve across towards the door and knock a couple of times with your free hand, “Dean? Everything alright in there?”

There’s a moment of silence, and then a short reply, “Fine.”

He’s obviously frustrated – a tone you’ve quickly become accustomed to hearing after dragging him home from the hospital a few days ago. He’d landed badly after being catapulted across the room by an overzealous ghost and broken a hand, whereas Sam had gotten off with a concussion and you’d somehow managed to slip away injury-free – which had inevitably resulted in you skivvying around to cater to their every whim.

While Sam had managed to get over himself somewhat and take it easy while the hellish egg on his head goes down, Dean has been trying to do everything as normal. He hates being laid up like this, and trying to get everything done for himself has just resulted in more hurt and hindrance than help.

You still linger outside the door for a few moments, “Can I help at all?”

He hesitates, and for a long moment you wonder if he’s actually going to accept, “I could use a clean towel.”

“Got one here. Mind opening the door?” You ask, after trying to get in and finding the door locked. Again, a hesitation, but then the door opens, Dean fumbling with his good hand for a few moments to get it undone.

You pride yourself on being able to keep a poker face. Sometimes giving the enemy no indication of your emotions could mean the difference between life and death – sometimes it’s imperative that a victim doesn’t know what you’re thinking. But this time, when it’s important that you don’t make a sound so Dean doesn’t slam the door in your face, you just can’t seem to freaking manage it.

“I know, alright?” He huffs as you sidle into the bathroom and begin draping the towels from the pile over the towel rack, trying desperately not to laugh. It’s not your fault – he’s covered in shaving cream – it’s smudged over his nose and there are even splatters in his eyebrows. It’s all white, apart from a trail of crimson blood slipping down the side of his face.

“You can’t shave left-handed?” You guess, taking note of the razor left in the sink and the cast immobilising his right hand. He sighs wearily, and then nods.

“Nope. I’ve never had to try before, and I was starting to look even more homeless than Sam.” He complains, taking a towel from you when you offer one to him.

“Dean, for crying out loud, you shattered your hand. I think you’re allowed to look homeless for a little while.” You reassure him, balancing the rest of the laundry – mostly jeans and a handful of flannels – on the countertop, “If you really want it sorted, I’ll do it for you.”

As soon as the offer has left your mouth, you regret it – the very idea of managing to get so close to him without blushing like a five year old, or completely losing your breath… impossible. And yet, he nods, smiling ruefully.

“Would you mind? I just… can’t.” He shrugs, and you smile back, nodding and shooing him off towards the closed toilet seat.

“Go on then, sit down.” You instruct, picking up the razor and running the warm tap to clear it off. You let the tap run for a little while, filling the basin, and then approach Dean carefully, “You have to promise to stay still. Usually when I’m so close to someone with something this sharp it doesn’t end very well for them.”

He laughs, leaning back with the force of it, “That’s not encouraging, Y/N.”

“I said I’d do it. I never said I’d do it well.” You remind him with a smile – humour: humour is how you get through this without making a complete idiot of yourself.

“Much appreciated, beautiful.” He winks, and it’s all you can do to force out a snort and place your fingers beneath his chin to tilt his head up a little.

“Mm, whatever you say,” Sometimes it’s difficult not to take his words too seriously, and you have to remind yourself that Dean Winchester can and will flirt with anything that moves – you’re not special to him beyond being good friends and hunting buddies.

“Well, the closer you get, the more I’m thinking it.” He mumbles, remaining still as stone as you skin the razor over his skin smoothly – you’re painstakingly careful, starting on the opposite side to the cut on his lower cheek. He chuckles when you lean back to dunk the razor in the sink, then move back over to him.

“I’ll stay well back, then.” You wink in response, but contradict your own statement by leaning close enough to him that his breath ghosts over your face. His eyes remain trained on your face, watching every movement as you press your lips together, squinting in concentration. You try your best to ignore it, being as careful and steady as your humanly can manage while you get to work.

His eyes don’t leave you until you’re finished, patting down his face with a towel and then handing it to him – only then does he force himself to look away, watching as you clear up and set everything back in its place.

When he finally manages to open his mouth, he’s expecting the words that come out to be ‘thanks, Y/N’ – instead, they’re, “When you’re concentrating, your nose does this funny little thing.”

You turn slowly, quirking an eyebrow in a manner he can only describe as adorable, “Excuse me?”

“It kinda… wrinkles. But just at the tip. Right here.” He taps his own nose, a small smile playing on his lips, “And you blink a lot. I just… never noticed before.” Dean confesses, giving a nonchalant shrug and trying to ask as if he isn’t mortified by the words.

Rather than make a comment, you give a smile, wiping your hands off and stepping back, “I suppose I’m not the kind of person people pay a whole lot of attention to.” It’s not meant to be self-deprecating, but Dean takes it that way nonetheless.

“You have got to be kidding me.” He rolls his eyes, standing up and poking at the cast as if his hand would be magically healed, “Y/N, you turn heads everywhere you go.”

“Yeah, right, of course.”

“Hey, look at me,” He takes your wrist in his hand, turning you to face him properly, “You’re beautiful. Really, truly beautiful. And smart, and kind, and funny. And people notice that. I notice that.”

That’s when your heart really does skip a beat – his eyes are on yours, emeralds glinting in the harsh white light of the bunker’s main bathroom.

“Dean, I-“

“You don’t need to reply to that. Didn’t mean to back you into a corner. Sorry.” Dean smiles sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck with his good hand – but you shake your head, stepping forward with all of the boldness you can muster.

“I want to.” You assure him, taking his good hand and squeezing it gently, “I don’t care about anyone else noticing. Just you.”

He hesitates, then glances sideways, at the door, “Can I kiss you?” He blurts, flushing red like an embarrassed teenager.

“I’d be offended if you didn’t.”  

Stars In the Sky, Anthony Ramos x Reader

Prompt: “I’m in love with you, this could ruin everything.” + Anthony Ramos

Words: 869

Author’s Note: I also found inspiration from this poem! Nothing gets me more in the fic writing mood than a nice poem. I haven’t written in a few days…whoops.

Warnings: Cursing. Like, wow, very casual cursing.

Askbox | Masterlist | Prompt list


Your favorite spot in the city was on the roof of the Richard Rogers Theater. There was something amazing about watching everyone bustling around the busy streets, weaving around each other in an elaborate and spontaneous dance.

After the show, you would spend a few minutes on the roof, staring at the stars, taking in the gentle hum that the city offered you. About a month into your start at Hamilton, Anthony began accompanying you.

You had worked with Anthony before, so you knew full well how talented and deserving he was of everything that Hamilton is. He was the first one to welcome you with open arms. You spent most of your time with him, and considered him a very close friend.

Of course, you wanted more. You’d never tell him though. He seemed perfectly content with how things sat with the two of you. Flirty comments every now and then, but he shared those with Lin, so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him.

Just like any other night, you were the first to undress after the show, knowing you had a set amount of time to make your way out before the crew locked up the theater for the night.

You knew nothing about stars; couldn’t identify constellations, but you were able to appreciate their beauty.

You heard the door behind you open and close. You turned for a moment only to identify the footsteps that were approaching. Anthony. Your eyes returned to the stars.

“You aren’t cold?” He asked, taking a spot next to you, leaning on the edge.

“I’ll only stay up here for a few more minutes,” You promised, “I’m just looking at the stars.”

He hummed in acknowledgement but still wrapped his jacket around you, despite any protest from you. You accepted the warmth, and focused your attention back to the stars.

“You know you’re my best friend, right?” This tore your attention away.

“Of course. Why? Did you find a replacement?” You joked, tugging his jacket closer as it fell away from your shoulder.

“No! Don’t be stupid, no one could replace you.” He closed the gap between you. Now, you stood shoulder to shoulder, both staring up at the night sky.

“Sometimes I like to think that the stars watch us back.” You said offhandedly, not expecting him to really care, “They observe us. I don’t know about them controlling us or anything, but there’s something so moving about a sky full of stars.”

“They watch us?” You nod, “So you can’t really keep a secret from them, huh?”

“I guess not,” You muse, “Do you have some juicy stuff the stars are pushing you to spill tonight?” 

His silence said enough. Touchy subject.

“Or maybe I’m wrong and they’re just balls of light that mean nothing. Guess we’ll never know.” You shrug off his coat, ready to head back in. You held it out for him to take, but his eyes were still fixed on the sky, “Anthony?”

“Do you think they judge us? Like, I don’t know. There’s that idea that the people who you love become stars that watch over you when they die. Do you think they know what’s going on in your head?”

“Maybe. I guess it depends on the person.” You return to his side, searching the sky for the brightest of the bunch, you pointed at it, “Is that someone you know?”

“No, I’m pretty sure that’s Venus.” He shoots back, making you frown, “The planet of love.” He continues.

“Shining pretty brightly tonight.” You tell him, leaning into his warmth.

“Maybe for a reason.” He leans into you as well, “I’m going to say something. When I say it, I don’t want you to respond right away. I want you to think about it, okay? I don’t think I can do it if you’re looking at me, either. I might chicken out. So…just look at Venus, alright?” 

You chance a glance at him, his eyes trained on the faraway planet, shining brighter than anything else in the sky. You nod.

“Alright. You’re my best friend, and I love you.” Your breath caught in your throat, “Like, legitimate, honest, love. I am fucking in love with you and I feel so stupid because…I can’t be in love with my best friend? Right? That’s not something that’s supposed to happen in real life.” He paused, knowing he was rambling, “I just wanted you to know. The stupid fucking stars were telling me to tell you. Thanks a lot, assholes.” He glared at the sky, causing you to giggle.

His eyes shot to you, hopeful. You paused for a moment, allowing what he said to sink in, as he told you to do.

“I know I told you to think about it, but this is actually killing me.”

In a rush, you pushed yourself to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as your lips grazed his. He reciprocated immediately, lifting you to sit on the edge of the roof, pushing back with as much force as he could manage.

When you left the building, you were holding hands, with a secret only the two of you and the stars knew.

Philip’s Christmas Eve Confession

Anonymous: hey! im planning to come as a transboy to my parents soon… could i request a short ficlet with transboy!philip coming out to a nice n accepting alexander and eliza??

Of course, bby!! <333 I know this ask is kinda old, so if you’ve come out by now, I sure hope it went well and I would love to hear from you! Me and the fam are here to support you! I love you!! <333 (Note: Philip is about 12 or 13 in this fic.)

Philip had thought of at least a million ways to tell his parents. He’d imagined a million situations and thought of every kind of tone he could use.

“Hey, so ya know how you think you have two daughters and three sons? Congratulations! You actually have four sons and one daughter!”

“Mama, Papa, could you call me Philip from now on?”

“Oh, yeah, one more thing before I go to bed! I’m transgender. Okay, night, love you guys!!”

But for all of the situations he imagined, Philip was still too afraid. He wasn’t so sure what, exactly, he was afraid of. He knew his parents wouldn’t throw him out on the streets. He didn’t even think they’d be upset or disappointed or any of the awful reactions that haunted him in his nightmares. He knew his father was bisexual, and that his dad’s best friend, John, was gay, so his parents were already more accepting than some of his friends’ parents, but he was still scared because what if?

It was nearly Christmas and Philip’s anxiety over coming out was getting worse and worse. The idea of possibly getting “girly” toys made it worse, too. Although playing dolls or house with his little sister, Angelica, was fun, he already had enough dolls and dresses and tea sets to last multiple lifetimes.

It was never his parents who gave him these gifts. They always gave him something he really wanted, whether it was a sewing kit or Transformers figurines. As his parents often told him and his siblings, toys had no gender. The kids could play with whatever they pleased and Mama and Papa would support that.

It was his well-intentioned relatives, like Grandmama and Grandpapa and Aunty Angie and Aunty Peggy and Uncle Ren who lovingly doled out the toys that Philip wasn’t much of a fan of. The toys that, even though he believed what his parents told him, that toys are not gendered, reminded him of what he wanted to be and what he was not.

But I am, Philip told himself. I’m as much of a boy as Alex and James and John. I just need to tell them. I just need to tell them, and then they’ll see me for who I am.

Philip felt like an abundance of opportunities kept coming his way, but he was always too nervous to take them.

There was the time when Papa was driving him home from his piano lesson, an easy silence between them.

There was the time when Mama and Papa were snuggled under a blanket in the den, flicking through the channels on the television, his other siblings scattered throughout the house, playing or reading.

There was the time on a snowy Advent Sunday when he was alone with Mama as she clasped a pearl necklace around her pale neck and studied her reflection in the mirror before asking Philip if he’d like a necklace to wear to mass. He simply bit his tongue and shook his head no.

The more time that passed without telling his parents, the worse he felt. Every she and her and use of his birthname sounded like nails on a chalkboard to his ears.

It was Christmas Eve when the next opportunity arose, and, this time, neither Philip himself nor his overwhelming anxiety could stop him from taking it.

It was nearly ten at night when Elf, the movie the family was watching, ended and Mama and Papa told the kids it was time to get ready for bed. Philip went through the motions of brushing his teeth, combing out his hair, and changing into the fuzziest pajamas he had. He said goodnight to his parents and climbed up to the room he and Angie shared. He even got into bed and crawled under the covers.

After a short amount of time passed, he heard Angie’s breathing even out, and he heard the scampering from the room nextdoor, where his three younger brothers slept, slow to a shuffle and then halt all together. He looked at the digital clock on his bedstand. It was 10:45.

Philip got out of bed as quietly as he could. He wrapped the quilt Grandmama had made him when he was born around his shoulders and slipped out of his room and down the stairs.

He found his parents in the living room, murmuring to one another, a notepad and pen in his father’s hand.

“Ma? Da?” He felt like his tiny voice had been shot through a loudspeaker from the way his parents jumped.

“Oh my god!” Mama said, putting her hand to her heart, a smile coming to her face. “You scared us, sweetie.”

“Are you okay, honey?” Papa asked, his brow creased in worry.

“Yeah, uh, what’re you guys doing?” Philip knew he was stalling, but he was also genuinely curious.

Papa winked. “Helping out Santa, that’s what.”

Philip laughed for a few seconds before his smile fell off his face. Was he really doing this? His parents seemed to sense something was up.

“Sweetheart?” Mama said gently. “Do you need to talk with us? Did you have another nightmare?”

His parents knew he had nightmares, but they didn’t know what they were about. Telling them would mean coming out, something he didn’t want to do via explaining a nightmare.

“I, um, have something I need to tell you,” Philip said, biting his lip.

Papa gestured for him to sit on the couch between the two of them. Philip sank down, unconsciously huddling close to his mother, who was always there to comfort him.

He hoped she would still be there for him after he told them this.

“Well, uh,” he started and stopped. His hands were sweating. Did hands usually sweat?

“You can tell us anything,” Papa said, his voice steady and sure.

“Always,” Mama echoed, taking Philip’s little hands in her own.

“I’m not a girl,” Philip whispered.

“Okay,” Papa said. “Do you wanna tell us more?”

“I’m a boy,” Philip said, his voice the slightest bit more confident after being encouraged by Papa.

“Oh, sweetie,” Eliza said, her voice breaking. She pulled Philip close to her. “How long?” she said into his hair. “How long did you know and––” Her voice broke. Why was Mama crying? She pulled away and cupped his face with her hands. “My little baby in pain, all this time, and we––”

“Eliza,” Papa said gently. “It’s okay. It’s all okay. Look, he told us!” Alexander exclaimed, a grin on his face.

He. Philip felt like his insides had suddenly turned multicolor; like he was made of Christmas lights. He was grinning without even being aware of it.

“Oh,” Mama said with a sad chuckle. “Sweetheart, I am so happy you told us. I’m just so sorry if you were in pain all this time and we had no idea.”

“We love you,” Papa said, pulling Philip close to him now. “So, so much. Nothing could ever change that. I’ll do whatever it takes, I’ll even make a million mistakes, just to make this world safe and sound for you. To make you happy.” Papa stroked Philip’s hair and swayed side to side with him pressed against his chest.

When Papa finally let Philip go, Mama took his hands again.

“Do you… Have you chosen a name?”

“Yeah,” Philip said, a bit of anxiety seeping in again. What if they didn’t like his name?

“What is it?” Papa asked.

“Philip,” he said. This was the first time he’d said it to anyone, aside from himself, out loud. “Philip,” he said with more confidence. “For Grandpapa,” he said, referring to Mama’s father.

“It’s beautiful,” Mama whispered. “Just like you.”

Mama and Papa wrapped their arms around Philip, the three of them sitting there in a loving silence for some time. They knew there would be challenges to face, but they were fighters and they had each other. They had no doubt that that would be enough.

For now they simply wanted to celebrate, because on that night a son was born.

Imagine coming to work angry because you just got your period <3

The most annoying thing in the whole world. Periods. That feeling when you wake up and there’s just blood everywhere. Everywhere. You thought a nice cup of coffee from Jitters would make you happy. If that stupid new kid hadn’t dropped your cup on you. The morning could not have been worse. After going home to change your outfit you headed to work. 

“Good morning.” Cisco and Barry greeted you as you walked into cortex. “No.” You said and threw your purse and jacket on the closest chair. Barry and Cisco shared a look. “Are you okay Y/N?” Barry said coming closer and reached for your arm. Cisco soon followed and they both looked worried at you. You pushed your way between them shouting.  “NO I AM FUCKING NOT. Stupid period. I don’t even WANT kids yet, WHY do I have to suffer? AND that STUPID new kid at Jitters. Guess what! HE DROPPED MY COFFEE CUP ON ME. Who does that?” You yelled and got out some of your frustration. You looked at the boys who took a step back with a terrified look on their faces. They had never seen you angry. Normally you were calm and the most steady on team flash.  “WHAT?” You growled angry. Cisco swallowed still holding onto Barry as if his life depended on it. “Nothing. Nothing is wrong. This is just an evil dream. Barry would you pinch me?” He didn’t look at Barry standing completely frozen. Barry slowly moved his hand and pinched Cisco’s hand.  “Nope. Not a dream. Just a really crazy day where our eternal sunshine is like a thundercloud.” He concluded and sat back down. Barry tried not to smile but did not succeed. You made an annoyed sound and got to work. 

Change

Josh Dun X Reader

Request: Could you write in imagine where you and josh recently got married but when he has finally come home from tour he barely spends any time with you and you get upset about it so you try to talk to him about it but he yells at you and a big fight happens but then you guys make up and it’s cute yay? ❤️

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Poker Face

Reid x Reader

You parked your car as close to Rossi’s front door as you could and exited, getting ready to collect your boyfriend of ten months from his boys night in. He’d text you thirty minutes ago, a text that you’d struggled to decipher but had decided it meant you needed to collect him.

“Hey Y/N, come on in. We’re all in the kitchen,” Derek Morgan answered the front door, a wide grin on his face. You followed behind him into the brightly lit kitchen. Spencer was sat at the table, an empty tumbler. His eyes lit up when he saw you, a huge goofy grin spreading over his face. He bounded over to you, nearly kicking his chair over in the process and threw his arms around you.

“Y/N! Look everybody, it’s Y/N,” he proceeded to sloppily kiss your cheek, his hands running up and down your sides.  Gently you stopped his roaming hands and pulled away.

“Alrighty, someone’s a little drunk.”

“A little…..” Alvez scoffed in the corner, taking a sip of his beer.

“I’m not drunk!” Spencer tried to kiss you again, hiccupping into your face and giving you a beautiful second hand whiff of whiskey.

“Derek,” you turned to his best friend. “Why is he wasted and you guys aren’t?”

Morgan shrugged his shoulders, not prepared to take any responsibility for this at all. It was Rossi who turned from his spot at his coffee maker.

“I believe the theory was that if he was drunk, he couldn’t keep kicking their butts at poker,” he took a long sip of his coffee.

“You guys played poker against Spencer?”

Derek nodded as you put your hand on Spencer’s chest, trying to push him back slightly. He was currently trying to nibble on your neck, seemingly forgetting he had an audience.

“Luke didn’t believe that he was as good a player as he claimed to be.”

Luke had a rather sheepish look on his face.

“Aaaand,” you probed, looking pointedly at Alvez.

“Alright so I was wrong. Even after six whiskies he kicked my ass.”

“Dude, I told you there was a reason he’s band from pretty much every casino in Vegas,” Morgan laughed.

You turned to your boyfriend who was still grinning from ear to ear.

“Wanna see my winnings?” he asked you, not waiting for your answer. He thrust his hands into his pockets and came out with a huge bundle of cash, a Rolex watch which you recognised to be Rossi’s, an extremely expensive sports watch that you presumed was Luke’s and a folded piece of paper.

“That’s an IOU for two weeks at my beach house down in Florida,” the teams newest recruit Walker spoke up.

You took the wad of cash and flicked through it. There was close to a thousand dollars there you estimated.

“Well, guess I’ll be buying myself a new outfit tomorrow then,” you grinned before taking the two watches and handing them back to their owners, ignoring the protests from Spencer. You halved the cash as well and set it back on the table.

“The IOU, we’re keeping if that’s cool. You have a beach house?”

“Keep it Y/N, the Kid deserves it. I swear he’d have had the shirt of my back if he could have,” Stephen replied.

“But…. but, that’s my winnings!”

“Sssshhh baby. You know it’s not fair to play against these guys.”

“Yeah but…. ” Spencer pouted, his bottom lip sticking so far out you wanted to laugh.

“No, yeah buts. Now let’s go home," you pushed him gently in the direction of the door.

"Next time boys, tequila is the way to go. Whisky has very little affect on his poker skills for some reason. After three tequila shots though, even I’ve beat him.”

You neglected to tell them that you’d been playing strip poker at the time and he’d been distracted by other things…

The whole ride home was spent pushing Spencer’s hand off your thigh. He’d start of sweetly stroking your leg and then would inch higher and higher up. Normally you wouldn’t mind but you hated driving so late at night and Rossi lived a little way out of town so you needed to concentrate.

“Wait until we’re home!” you lightly smacked his hand away, trying to stifle a giggle.

“But…. I don’t wanna… You’re so pretty and your skin is so lovely and I just wanna…. Let’s pull over! Let’s do that thing we both like in the car.”

There were lots of things you both liked, none of which were happening in the this car.

“I don’t really fancy being arrested for indecent exposure, so nah. Have patience,” you told him, knowing exactly what would happen as soon as you got home.

“But I’m an FBI Agent. I know alllll the cops. They won’t arrest me.”

Not true, they would. And then Emily would have to pull some strings whilst teasing you both incessantly.

“Spencer chill out. We’ll be home in ten minutes and the you can do whatever you want to me.”

“Okay… Okay good. Cos I wanna do sooo many things to you,” he started to list the numerous sexual things he was promising to do to you and you just nodded along. If he was sober you’d find it sexy, but he was wasted so it just ended up being amusingly cute. When you finally reached your apartment you parked up and waited for him to stagger out of the car. He wobbled only slightly, tripping up a few times on the way up the three flights of stairs to your home.

His hands made their way around your waist again as you unlocked the door, his lips attacking your neck. Which again would have been sexy except the alcohol was making him drool slightly and his lips were a lot wetter than normal.

“Come on baby, let’s get you to bed,” you kicked the door shut behind you and led him to your bedroom. You pushed him down onto your bed, laughing as he pulled you on the top of him, his hands searching for the hem of your vest.

“Can we do those things now?” he asked excitedly.

“Sure baby, let me just slip into the bathroom first okay. Why don’t you take your clothes off and get ready and I’ll be right back.”

You clambered off him and made your way to your bathroom, wincing as you heard the thud of his converse hitting your floor as he tugged them off. You brushed your teeth and changed into your fluffy warm pajamas then stopped by the kitchen, grabbing two bottles of water and a can of coke.

When you re entered your bedroom Spencer was passed out on his back, loud snores leaving his throat. He’d managed to strip down to his boxers and climb under the covers himself. Chuckling to yourself you placed one of the waters and the coke on the bedside cabinet next to him and climbed in the other side, searching your drawer for your ear plugs.

That boy could not handle his drink.

But no doubt he’d make up for it in the morning.

Cheating Fic - Yoosung Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4


There was a crashing outside of the front door. Even though you were wrapped up in the bed you could clearly hear a commotion outside the apartment. Intrigue got the better of you, so you pulled the blanket around your shoulders and made your way to the front door. Looking through the peep hole you sighed. Seven was in the other side, picking up whatever he had dropped. You could just ignore him and go back to bed, but you knew he had a key which he wasn’t afraid to use. On more than one occasion you had woken up to find him helping himself to whatever food you had in the kitchen. Then again, he was the one stocking up your cupboards seeing as you still refused to leave the apartment, so he could eat whatever he wanted. Letting out another slightly defeated sigh you opened the door quickly before you could change your mind. 

Seven looked up at you, grinning unbearably. “I brought some food and toiletries over for you,” he beamed. You scanned the mess in front of you and almost laughed. Scattered amongst the food he had bought were some personal hygiene products like shampoo and deodorant. “I have toiletries Luciel,” you informed him lightly, a rare smile tugging at your lips. He continued to smile as he gathered everything up into the bag it had all spilled out of. “Well I just wanted to make sure you didn’t have a reason to say no to going out tonight,” mumbled Seven, averting his eyes from you as he waited for your response. He expected you to chew him out, scold him for pushing you to do things you weren’t ready for yet again. You hadn’t left the apartment in a month. The thought of going out made you nervous, but the more you thought about it the more it seemed like a good idea. Drinking by yourself and shouting at the romantic comedies plaguing the to channels lately was not a thrilling way to spend your evening. Maybe going out for drinks wouldn’t be such a bad thing. It wasn’t like you would be alone, Seven would be with you, and you knew he would bring you straight home if you felt uncomfortable at all. After letting Seven into the apartment you left him alone in the living area and went to start getting ready. It felt nice to have a reason to dress up a little, to make a little effort in your appearance. For the first time in a month you felt excited. 


Before you knew it you were in a mainstream club nursing a drink at the bar. Having spent the past month drinking at home by yourself, you had started to build up quite a tolerance. Even though you were on at least your fourth drink, you barely even felt tipsy. Seven had been pulled away by some girls despite protesting and attempting to stay with you, but you didn’t mind too much. You could just about see him on the dance floor, and he looked genuinely happy. It was a nice thing to see. He had made a lot of effort in cheering you up since Yoosung, so seeing him happy made you feel a little better inside. In a time like this you couldn’t have asked for a better friend. He came over multiple times during the week, even bringing his computers over to work a few times. He knew how you hated being alone, and how being by yourself you drowned in thoughts about the one who had crushed your heart. Thinking of Yoosung made your stomach twist. Even when he only briefly crossed your mind it caused your breath hitch in your throat. Maybe if you had been sat here alone your thoughts would have gotten the better of you, but you weren’t by yourself. The moment Seven left your side, some guy had taken his place, flirting heavily with you trying to spike your interest.

You had been entertaining his attempts at getting you interested in him for at least 20 minutes now. It was starting to get boring. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with him, it was just so loud in here you couldn’t even hear yourself think let alone hear what he had to say. He was an attractive guy, with cute boyish looks and eyes that shimmered in the frantic club lights. It definitely seemed like you had a type. The way the lights reflected off his eyes you couldn’t tell what colour they were. In some moments they looked like a cool grey, in others an icy blue, and on a few rare occasions they looked like an emerald green. Either way you were slightly lost in them. He looked about your age, his smooth skin emphasising his defined cheekbones and sculpted jaw line. He was a vision. Even in the darkness you could see his nicely built frame through his shirt. He was built almost as good as Zen, maybe somewhere in between him and Jumin. But despite his obvious appeal, you couldn’t stop the empty feeling that was bothering you. This environment was not for you right now, it was too loud, too chaotic. Maybe if you had been somewhere else you would have been more into the guy next to you. 

It was so loud in the club you could barely hear a word he was saying. Just as you were about to tell him to move on and find someone else to flirt with, he leant in close to you and whispered in your ear with a husky tone. “Why don’t we go somewhere more private where we can talk more freely?” It was like he knew exactly what you were thinking. His hot breath on your neck sent a shiver down your spine, contrasting with the fire that was suddenly searing through your veins. His hand snaked up your thigh as he pulled away from you, his eyes looking at you intently. The feeling of his hand on your bare leg sent shockwaves through you. It took you less than a minute to make your decision. You wanted this. You wanted him. Grabbing his hand you led him away from the bar towards the toilets. Maybe it wasn’t an ideal location, but you didn’t have many options. It wasn’t long before you were pressed up against the wall of a cubicle, his tongue tangled with yours. His soft hands were caressing your hips, pulling your closer to him whilst simultaneously hiking up your dress slowly. You knew exactly where this was going, and you didn’t care. A month ago you would have said your first time should be special, with someone you loved. It was clear now how wrong you were. As long as it was fun, who cared? Oh, that’s right. Yoosung would care. The though of how much this would hurt him motivated you to speed things up, your hands leaving the guy’s silky brown hair and making their way down to free him. He gasped at the contact, his lips leaving yours for a brief moment. For the first time you could see his eyes. They were green, and they sucked you in. In an instant his lips crashed back into yours, a desperate need taking over both of you. Yoosung had taken everything from you, but he would never take this.


Imagine playing hard to get with Chris.

A/N: This is a request from a wonderfully loyal reader @m-a-t-91, I don’t really know if I lived up to your request ‘cause when I write- I kinda go into a state where I just write what comes to me. I think I wrote what you asked for, I dunno. Enjoy anyway. X

You could feel your best friend, Chris watching you from across the bar as you politely chatted with the third guy to hit on you in one night. You weren’t actually interested, you were just too nice to shoot him down. At least he was slightly better looking than the first two, it helped but he still wasn’t the one you wanted to be with. The one you wanted, the one you were in-love with- had been in-love with since the moment you met him was the blue eyed, brown haired Bostonian that you called a best friend. You didn’t know but he was in-love with you too, just waiting for the right time to tell you.

“Do you want me to get rid of him?” Chris mouthed at you and you bit back your smile, nodding ever so subtly. “Wear the ring,” he mouthed and tapped his ring finger on his left hand; a gesture to the bid the two of you had performed numerous times.

You did as you were told, watching him rise from his stool and disappear into the crowd. You continued to nod at the blond, faking a smile as he talked you through his gym regime. You could’ve listened to Chris talk about his gym regime all day but you couldn’t with this guy, with this guy- all you wanted to do was roll your eyes.

“There you are, my love.” You heard Chris’ voice and felt his warm hand touch the small of your back. “I’m sorry,” his gaze fell onto the blond gentleman who was stunned by the presence of the actor, Chris Evans. “Can I help you? Is there a reason you’re talking to my fiancée?” He asked, grabbing your left hand and holding it up to reveal your ring.

“Uh- no, um-” He stammered, swallowing his nerves as he got up. “I had no idea- I’m sorry, Cap. I didn’t notice the ring and- Have a good night,” he nodded at the both of you and rushed off, leaving you and Chris in stitches.

“I’m sorry, Cap?” You laughed, trying to ignore the butterflies forming in your stomach from Chris’ touch. “That’s fucking hilarious. I have never seen a guy bigger than you so terrified of you,” you said and Chris scoffed. “The role of Captain America has given you a few benefits.”

“First of all, he was not bigger than me. And even if he was, I’m much better looking than that doofus.” He argued and you rolled your eyes; the feeling of disappointment washed over him when he took his hand away. “And yes, the role of Captain America has given me a few benefits. You’re one of them, without it- I probably wouldn’t have met you.”

“But we met at your dad’s dentistry,” you narrowed your eyes in confusion.

“Yes, but you wouldn’t have been interested in talking to me if I wasn’t Captain America.” You rolled your eyes at that. “Please,” he chuckled softly. “Don’t act like you would’ve given me the time of day if I wasn’t Captain America, even after you knew who I was- you barely paid me any attention. All you did was ask for a selfie, you wouldn’t even give me your phone number.”

“I was raised not to trust random strangers, even if said random stranger was Captain America.”

“Bull-fucking-shit,” he laughed. “You just like playing hard to get, you’re like that with every guy.”

“Fuck you, Evans.” You playfully shoved him and he laughed harder, touching his left boob. “I do not like playing hard to get, I’m just not one of those girls who gives her number away willy nilly. Even if I knew who you were, you were still just some random guy. I couldn’t just give you my number, I had to know you were a guy worth trusting.” You told him and he chuckled. “And you are,” you patted his cheek gently and his heart fluttered at your touch, “'cause here we are now, best of friends.”

“I want more than friends,” you thought you heard him mutter under his breath. Your heart skipped a beat but you remained indifferent, just in case you heard him wrongly. “Y/N,” Chris moved in front of you, taking one of your hands in his. “Have you ever thought about dating a friend?”

Your breath hitched in your throat because you knew you had in fact heard what you heard; he was referring to himself and the possibility of him becoming something more to you. You had been wishing for something like that since- God, since before you met him. But like he said, you were prone to playing hard to get; you didn’t know why, you did do it with every guy. It probably had to do with the string of bad boyfriends, after the last one- you were done getting hurt. You knew Chris was a good guy but you couldn’t risk going through another heartbreak and you definitely didn’t want to lose him as a friend.

“Never,” you lied and shook your head.

“I see,” Chris mumbled; his heart sunk as you pulled your hand away. “Yeah, neither.” He forced a smile on his face but you could see the pain in his eyes; you suffered immediate guilt and regret. “I think it’s stupid to ruin a good friendship, I just- I was asking for a friend.”

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded, smiling even though you were dying on the inside. “This is why we’re best friends, we share a similar form of thinking.” You said and he nodded, chuckling with very limited humor. “I’m starving, do you want to go grab some Leone’s?”

“You know I do.” He smiled more genuinely; he couldn’t be with you but at least he could be around you. “Let’s go,” he held out his arm for you to take and you took it without hesitation. “What are we thinking? Eat in or take it back to my place?”

“Anything as long as I get to eat with you,” you told him and his smile widened a little bit. “You know I love you, right?” You asked and he nodded, pressing a quick kiss to the side of your head. “Good,” you managed a small smile, ignoring your aching heart. “Now let’s go get some pizza.”
• • • • • • • •
“I will never ever get sick of pizza,” you grinned as you took another slice from the box. Chris chuckled and took a sip of his beer, smiling as he watched you devour the slice. “Thank you so much for introducing me to Leone’s, it is honestly- the best.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled and lowered his beer onto the hardwood floor. “You know something, Y/N?” He quizzed, crawling across to sit next to you. “I think you’re amazing.” He told you when your facials prompted a continuation. “I think you’re beautiful and funny and talented and- perfect. I think you’re perfect,” he whispered and brushed your hair out of your face.

“I think I’m all of those things too,” you joked because you knew where he was going with all of that. “What can I say?” You dropped your slice back into the box and brushed the crumbs from your hands by swiping them together. “My parents made a masterpiece when they had me.”

“Can you please be serious for once in your life?” Chris narrowed his eyes at you; he was buzzed enough not to care about the consequences. “I’m trying to tell you I like you, Y/N. I’ve been trying to tell you all night,” he said and you sighed. “I know we’re best friends and you don’t want to ruin our friendship by giving this a shot, I don’t either- the last thing I want is to lose you.”

“Then stop,” you told him.

“I can’t,” he shook his head. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with just being friends anymore. I know you’re sick of it too, I’m not crazy- I can see the way you look at me. You want this too, you’re just too afraid of getting hurt again which is why you’re constantly playing hard to get.” He took your hands and pressed it to his heart. “But I would never hurt you, Y/N. I would never ever because- you do this to me, you make my heart beat- you make each day worth more than it should. There has never been a day with you that has been bad,” he told you.

“Chris, stop-” you tried to pull your hands away but he tightened his grip. “I can’t lose you, I can’t lose this. Maybe we try this out, maybe it works but- what if it doesn’t?” You felt your eyes well with tears. “What are we going to do then? Who am I going to have in my life?”

“Me,” he answered. “Because you’re never going to lose me, Y/N. You’re the love of my life, I didn’t realize it until now but- I can’t imagine myself with anyone else. As long as you’re around, you’re the one I’m going to love until my final breath.” You felt a smile stretch across your face; the tears that welled from the fear of losing him, fell out of joy. “Even as a ghost, I’ll still love you.”

“Shut up,” you managed a soft laugh and he smiled, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “Fine,” you huffed and his breath hitched in his throat when he realized what you were about to agree to. “We can try this, but if things don’t work-”

“It will,” he interrupted excitedly.

“If it doesn’t,” you continued your previous sentence. “You don’t get to run out on me. You are going to stay my best friend until the end of time, even if you hate my guts- you’re going to be there for me. Those are my terms, otherwise- it’s a no.”

“More time with my best friend who is also the love of my life?” He quizzed rhetorically and smirked when you bit back your smile. “How could I possibly disagree to those terms?”

“Good,” you smiled. He released your wrists so he could caress your face; you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in. “Because I was getting a little sick of playing hard to get.” He chuckled then smiled when you pressed your lips against his.

Joker Imagine - Guys My Age

Anonymous said:Could you do a fic bass off the song guys my age pretty please? Your work amazing


 -YASSS GIRL that song is fucking amazing! And thanks.


Originally posted by harlstheclownprincessofcrime


‘’It’s over’’ I reminded my now ex boyfriend Jonathan. He was smoking some stupid weed with his friends. ‘’Come on girl..don’t take it so seriously!’’ He whined ,but didn’t raise his sorry ass from the couch. His friends laughed and encouraged him to show me who’s boss. If he’d do that, I’d snap his neck.

‘’Goodbye’’ I whispered and walked away. It hurt a little, but I was so done with him. He didn’t know how to treat me, how to touch me or even how to keep me. He could do better with the next chick in his life. I was over that jerk. It seemed like dating a guy my age wasn’t right. They were all so childish.


          A couple weeks passed and I was stepping out of my apartment for the first time. It was Saturday and there was a wild party in the club nearby here in Gotham so I went there in my golden low cut dress and black heels. My hair was loose and I had a smokey eye makeup. I was ready to let go and have some fun after dealing with Jonathan for so long. Luckily I hadn’t seen him since we broke up.

As I entered the club, I heard loud music and I smelled the alcohol. People were dancing on the dancefloor and literally every little booth was full of people. The VIP area must have been very full for a change as well. The club was fancy. It had amazing lights and loads of dark furniture to make the lights stand out. I walked further inside and tried my luck with the VIP area. I had been there once before and it was fucking amazing.

A guard stood by the entry and I put on a wide smile. ‘’Hi sir’’ I chirped happily and caught his attention. The guard had a black suit, sunglasses and he seemed very serious. He had browns short hair and a stubble. ‘’Is there space for one more?’’ I asked him and twirled my hair in my finger. He looked around and then stepped aside. ‘’Thank you’’ I thanked him gratefully and then made my way to the VIP area.

I was surprised when I saw that the special booth was taken. It was nearly always empty and no one was allowed to take it. I never knew whose it was, but then I saw him. I stood there in shock, but my body was also frozen from amazement. The green hair was put back nicely  with gel and he had pretty red lips. The man was wearing a white button up, golden rings and necklaces, a black vest and black pants. He also had a purple and golden cane that he used to rest his hand on.

He had company by another man I didn’t recognize, but I sure did recognize Joker. The clown prince of crime himself. He had henchmen around the booth and they were armed. Yet people were dancing and going crazy here, not caring about the fact the most wanted man of Gotham city was here. 

Suddenly he saw me and I felt a shiver running down my spine. I could see his blue eyes from afar and the dark make-up around his eyes. First he looked serious and kinda angry, but his lips curved into a smile. It made my heart beat faster, but I smiled back a soft kind smile.

People were staring at me because I had been standing still for so long. I shook my head and forced myself to move to the dancefloor. But I was fascinated by the Joker. Seeing him so close was so..strange yet amazing. I couldn’t explain it. He was perfect. And that smile. His look had already captivated me.

Before I could even grab a drink or anything, I felt a someone tapping my shoulder. It startled me, but I turned around and saw one of Joker’s henchmen. Did I do something wrong? Oh no..

‘’Boss wants to see you’’ The man told me with a deep voice. Joker wanted to see me? What.. ‘’Okay’’ I muttered nervously and followed the man. He led me to the booth surrounded by golden ropes with pearls. There was a table in the middle with ice and drinks. Joker looked at me silently as I walked closer. People around us kept glancing over curiously. ‘’Why hello doll face. I haven’t seen you around before’’ He purred happily and kept his eyes on me. His friend was quiet and didn’t dare to speak up.

‘’I-I’m usually at home..’’ I answered him nervously and felt tense. Damn. ‘’Oh take a seat. There’s plenty of space here’’ He let me know and patted his accessorized hand on the black leather couch next to him. I made my way there and sat down, crossing my legs nervously. Jesus Christ this was like a dream. I could see all his tattoos way better now that I was closer. He had ‘damaged’ written on his forehead, a star next to his eye and a ‘J’. He baffled me by being himself.

Yes I knew that he was a little older than me, but I didn’t even care anymore. He was truly grown up and not a whiny little brat like Jonathan. ‘’Now what’s your name pretty?’’ He wanted to know, giving his attention to me. I felt special. Such a busy criminal stopped whatever he was doing in the first place to talk to someone like me. ‘’I’m Y/N. I suppose you’re the Joker’’ I smiled and tried to relax. As long as I wouldn’t disrespect him ,I should be fine.

‘’Such a pretty name for a pretty girl. And yes. Someone did their homework’’ He chuckled and sounded pleased. Well duh. The thought of Joker had always tangled my mind. I was really interested in him in a strange way even tho he was a criminal. I don’t know why but whenever I heard news about him, I felt happy. He gave this city some life and excitement.

‘’Would you like to tell me why you’re here tonight?’’ He questioned me and seemed to scootch closer to me.’’I was bored. Also my idiot ex kept me from having fun for a while so now that he’s out of my life, I have something to do’’ I explained and started to twirl some hair in my finger. Joker’s hand touched my knee and it made me kinda happy.

‘’Mhh..He must be really to stupid to let go of someone like you’’ He snickered and made me blush. This was so wrong but it felt so right. ‘’I guess so’’ I chuckled and smiled widely. The man that had been here before me spoke up. ‘’You don’t have to guess. If I lost a girl like you, I’d be devastated’’ He tried to get into our conversation, but he made me cringe. Joker’s smile faded and he rolled his eyes, making the guy shut up again.

‘’Did I tell you to interrupt us?’’ He growled and suddenly grabbed a gun. My heart started beating faster in my chest as I saw it. ‘’S-Sorry..’’ The man stuttered and got sweaty. Joker literally growled at him, but I found it sexy. ‘’Get him out’’ He demanded to his henchmen that immediately grabbed the man by his arms. I watched as he tried to wiggle away, which was a wrong move. Joker loaded his gun and shot his foot, making him yell out in pain. Blood splattered on the floor, but it didn’t stop the henchmen from dragging the guy out.

Joker turned back to me and put his gun away. ‘’I’m sorry about that’’ He apologized and ran his hand through his green hair. If I would be sane, I’d be afraid. I guess I wasn’t as sane as I thought because it turned me on. ‘’It’s okay’’ I smiled and this time I was the one that moved closer. J noticed that I didn’t mind what I just saw at all. ‘’Besides from being such a beauty..you’re crazy too?’’ He giggled and made me feel so different than ever before in my life.

‘’I guess that’s up to you to judge’’ I let him know. Joker seemed so pleased. ‘’Oh you’re wonderful Y/N! Where have you been all my life?’’ He cheered out loudly, causing some frightened people to look at us. ‘’Obviously wasting time with a boring idiot’’ I answered him.Our eyes met and for once I felt like someone understood me. It just happened to be Joker.

‘’Oh we’re going to have so much fun’’

Lavender and Vanilla

Anon: Could you please do one of y/n coming home from work really tired and Harry cuddles her. Thank you x
Hope you like it!! 
Word Count: 1058
No warnings, just cute-as-hell Harry.

You sat in the driveway, for how long, you did not know. It seemed as if your legs were not attached to your body, or at least your brain wasn’t sending signals to them to make them move. You were exhausted: your body had been worked harder than it had in a long time, and it was all because of your new manager. It wasn’t that your previous manager didn’t work you hard, because she did, but nothing compared to this new guy. You worked at a catering business, which you liked…most of the time. The workload was normally evenly distributed, but because you were the youngest one on staff, your new boss thought that you could and should be pushed a little bit harder than everyone else, which led to very sore muscles and a tired body.

Keep reading

Fortune (Philip x Reader)

Word Count: 1,253

Warnings: food, soulmate, swears

Authors Note: yo yo yo. it’s been a hot minute. i missed y’all. sorry i’ve been so inactive, but i hope this pip soulmate fic makes it up to you. let me know what you thought!

Summary: Soulmate AU where the soulmate’s name is printed inside a fortune cookie. (i think this is original? i’ve never seen it anywhere but feel free to let me know!)

Requests: none- this is some sort of tradition that all my philip fics are not requested but random shit that comes from my imagination.

Masterlist


You sat in a dimly lit booth of your local Chinese restaurant, soft music filling the amiable atmosphere. The gold foil detailing of the walls were embedded in your brain, and you swore you could remember the number of tassels on each curtain by heart for you and Philip had came here at least once a week.

“You think today is the day?” he asked, looking up from his menu.

“I hope so.” you replied, eagerness settling in your heart.

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anonymous asked:

Just saw your 'I love you' post. Gaaaaawd! I LOVE those two! Was wondering if you could help me out, there's a scene I keep remembering, but I can't seem to place it, whether it was in the books or just a fic lol, but it's a scene where C/J are in a lean to or something and he's asking if she wants a baby, she says no but she loves him. It isn't on your list so just wondering if I'm imagining things or did that happen at some point?

Hi anon - it’s a scene from The Fiery Cross.

For context: Jamie and Claire have come into possession of a baby who is all alone in the world, abandoned by her mother and no father in sight. Being in such close proximity to this baby reminds Claire of when she carried Brianna - and Faith - and she gets to thinking about how Jamie never saw her hold either of their children.

Jamie is acutely aware of this. He is also aware that he and Claire have come across a newborn who is clearly in need - and, as they have so many times before, he is prepared to take this child into his family.

“If ye want the child, Claire, I will take her, and manage whatever comes.”

If I wanted her. I could feel the soft weight of the child, sleeping on my breast. I had forgotten the intoxication of motherhood for years; pushed aside the memory of the feelings of exaltation, exhaustion, panic, delight. Having Germain and Jemmy and Joan nearby, though, had reminded me vividly.

“And manage whatever comes.” Here Jamie makes clear that he wants what Claire wants. If she wants the child, he’ll raise it as his own - like he did with Fergus, and Marsali, and (later) Fannie.

Especially because he so wants to give Claire the gift of motherhood.

“For my sake,” he said firmly, addressing the air in front of him as though it were a tribunal, “I dinna want ye to bear another child. I wouldna risk your loss, Sassenach,” he said, his voice suddenly husky. “Not for a dozen bairns. I’ve daughters and sons, nieces and nephews, grandchildren—weans enough.”

He looked at me directly then, and spoke softly.

“But I’ve no life but you, Claire.”

He swallowed audibly, and went on, eyes fixed on mine.

“I did think, though … if ye do want another child … perhaps I could still give ye one.”

Here Jamie plainly shows Claire - admits to her, for the first time ever - that he feels…inadequate, or guilty that he couldn’t have given her more children during their younger years. So he will do whatever it takes to give her more. In whatever way he can.

Because he loves her so deeply. Always puts her first.

And Claire knows this. It takes her breath away.

And reminds her that she doesn’t need to care for another child - not at this point in her life. She’s been there and done that. That phase of her life is other.

She needs to remind Jamie that she doesn’t resent him, or feel bad, that they weren’t able to conceive more children.

And she needs to remind him just how deeply she admires and appreciates him, and his selflessness, and his sacrifices.

I knew. As a mother, I had the lightness now of effort complete, honor satisfied. Mission accomplished.

I leaned my forehead against his chest and spoke into the shadowed cloth above his heart.

“No,” I said softly. “But, Jamie … I so love you.”

I Feel It In My Bones

Thank you to the lovely @fabulous-dani for requesting this. I’m so sorry you had to wait so long my lovely but I really, really hope you enjoy it. Please let me know x x

Title comes from this song and it is one of my all time favourites, I highly recommend sticking it on whilst you’re reading this, it really heightens and suits the mood of this fic! 

Request: Could I request an imagine? So could you write an imagine where the reader is a teen or young adult and is being recruited for the Avengers, but the Avengers have no idea what makes her special and ignore her. That is until during a mission, that involves all of them, she reveals that she can control plasma/dark matter. But when she does use her power, her eyes go black and the black plasma oozes from her hands. You can decide the teams reaction. Could it be angsty please. Thank you if you can, if you can’t I understand, I mean this is a really long request so…… Yeah

Warnings: Angst, talk about a murderous rampage but not detailed. 

Words: c, 1,719.

*gif not mine*


Originally posted by nightmaresandsexyghouls

You pulled you knees up to your chest and attempted to control your breathing.

“What have I done?” you sighed, breaths coming out ragged and sharp.

Sirens screamed past your hiding spot and you considered walking out and surrendering yourself, walking out into the chaos, arms raised and letting the consequences just happen, even if that meant they locked you away forever.

The world would be a better place without you free to roam the streets.

Rising from your spot you made the decision, rain poured down from the heavens and plastered your hair to your head and you moved ever so steadily forward, people rushed passed you their screams muted by the sound of your heart beating rapidly in your ears.

The carnage of your destruction was everywhere, cars were left abandoned, some had crashed and the smoke bellowing from their engines barely registered within in your senses as flashlights and guns turned on you, cops yelled at you to put your hands in the air and you complied, watching as they moved cautiously towards you.


“You levelled a whole street in this city.”

“I did.”

“How?”

“I’m not sure,” you bit nervously at the inside of your cheek and your interrogator laughed mirthlessly.

“You’re not sure about which part sweetheart, the part where freaky black stuff came shooting out of your hands and tore buildings down, or the fact where you looked like you had been possessed by a demon as your turned your powers on innocent people?”

Tears streamed down your cheeks “I can’t control it!” you sobbed.

“And that is precisely what makes you a danger to society, and do you know what happens to dangers to society? They get put down.”

The straight jacket you were in did not allow for much movement, so you couldn’t even wipe away the tears that fell.

The door of the interrogation opened with a bang and another man stepped into room calling your interrogator out as a young woman stepped in and took his place.

“Y/n?” she confirmed and you sniffed and nodded.

“Let’s get you out of this thing!” she motioned to the jacket, unbuckling it and helping you slip out of it.

“My name is Wanda Maximoff and I’m here to talk to you about the Avengers.”

Your eyes widened in panic, the Avengers were being sent to take you out?

“We are not going to hurt you,” Wanda promised, “We want you to join us.”

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things you said after we kissed

also posted on: ao3
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Felicity could feel his warm breath stutter against her lips, the tip of his nose bumping her own. Her eyes were closed; she was afraid to open them and realize that this wasn’t happening. That all this time, all this build-up, had resulted in an over-grown imagination and little more. But, at the same time, she knew that they had come and gone from here, this place that always found them, too many times to count. And it never went where she wanted. Too many false starts, empty dreams, and unresolved hopes. 

Oliver’s thumb smooth up the arch of her cheek and tapped, lightly, next to her eye. “Felicity?” 

“Hm?” 

She could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Are you going to look at me?” 

She scrunched up her nose. “No.” 

He hummed. “Can I ask why?” 

She raised a hand, patted it up his chest and along his shoulder, and then followed his arm up, until her fingers reached his wrist and coiled around it. “Maybe if I don’t open them, nothing changes.”

“I’m kind of hoping something does change.” 

She shook her head, ever so slightly, not enough to dislodge his hand or draw herself too far from his mouth, but enough to get her meaning across. “If I open my eyes, and we do this, it stops. All of it. We’re good at this. At the beginning. It’s the other stuff, the middle and the end, that we trip over. So no, I just want to stay right here.” 

“I thought we were pretty good at the middle. Not perfect. A lot to improve on, definitely. But, we made it work… because we wanted it to work.” He sighed. “The end though, you’re right. We’re not good at endings.” His fingers stroked her hair back then, behind her ear, and then slid down her neck to rest on her shoulder. “So I propose, we don’t have one.” 

She lifted an eyebrow. “No ending?” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

“Sounds optimistic.” 

He laughed then, quick and rough. “Can’t say I’m usually accused of that, but, some things deserve optimism… and hope.” 

She cracked one eye open then, and looked up at him. “Yeah?” 

He grinned at her. “Yeah.” 

She took a deep breath, and reached up with her other hand, sliding her palm over his heart. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” He stared at her a beat.

“Oh. Right.” She opened her other eye, and then blinked a few times. “There.” 

He smiled. “Much better.”

And then he kissed her again, and she jumped in, feet first, eyes wide open.

“I don’t get jealous.”

Request: could you do one where someone from the gale is trying to flirt with you but newt (your boyfriend) sees and he comes over to you and just starts acting all cutesy and boyfriendy (are those even words lol?) in front of the guy and can it be really fluffy? Sorry if thats a little confusing or complicated aha

A/N: inspiration for this came from this cute ass gif. I hope you like it anon, I’m sorry it took me ten million years, but aye better late than never am i right? Any who, I’m slowly catching up to all my requests now, so if you’ve requested it will be up relatively soon! :) 


*3rd person POV*

“Alright, Greenie,” Newt says, greeting the stocky boy at his hammock “Now that you’ve settled in a little, are ya ready for the tour?”

The Greenie stands and looks up the older boy, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Newt says, clapping him on the back, “Now what’s the name again? Lawrence?”

“Uh no,” The boy shuffles uncomfortably, “It’s Liam.”

“Ah right, sorry Greenie, I got too many bloody names floatin’ around in this head of mine. Let’s get on with it shall we?”

Newt towered a good 6 inches over the boy, but what he lacked in height he made up for in his muscle. Newt was tall and slender, while Liam was shorter and bulkier. He seemed to be about a year or so younger than Newt, and his dark hair and piercing bright blue eyes were a stark contrast to Newt’s blonde hair and dark brown eyes.  

The more he took him around the Glade, the more Liam seemed to come out of his shell, which gave Newt a good feeling about him – most Greenies were still scared out of their wits at the tour. It was a good thing Alby wasn’t giving it because the kid asked lots of questions and he would’ve bit the poor kid’s head off.

“Okay, Greenbean, we’re back at the Box, I think that about sums up the tour for now.” Newt says. “Your training with the first keeper starts tomorrow at the Wake-Up. For now, why don’t you go get some food and maybe watch people work, get an idea of where you might want to fit in here.”

“Wait,” Liam says, clearly not getting a word of what Newt had just said, “Who is that?

Newt doesn’t need to look up to know who he’s talking about, though he does anyway and a small smile finds its way on his lips. Liam’s finger is pointing to a girl eating with Thomas in Fry’s kitchen, the delightful peals of her laughter easily heard from where the two stood.  

“That would be (Y/N),” Newt says, “She’s the only girl here. Nobody knows why she’s different, but she’s here and she’s one of us now. Bloody tougher than you are, that’s for sure.” Newt punches him in the arm.

The kid wouldn’t take his eyes off of her, “She’s super hot. Does she have a boyfriend?”

Newt internally groans, “Yeah, in fact, she does.”

“Damn,” Liam mutters, “Who is it?”

“Me,” Newt says, crossing his arms with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, dude. I didn’t mean to–”

Newt cuts him off with a laugh, “Don’t worry about it. As long as you don’t try anything, there won’t be any problems. I don’t get jealous, she’s the only girl surround by at least sixty guys. If I got jealous every time someone looked at her, I’d go out of my buggin’ skull.”

“Yeah, yeah, dude, of course. I understand.”

However, the Greenie’s inability to take his eyes off of her, even as he said those words, left Newt with a feeling of unease.

—–

*Your POV*

“Hey . . hey Thomas,” Minho says, trying to stifle a laugh, “Does my hair look pretty?”

You were sitting with Thomas and Minho at the greenie bonfire, a choice you were seriously starting to regret right about now. Hanging out with them was always fun until it passed a certain point in the night – when they had both consumed far too many cups of Gally’s recipe.

“Dude your hair amazes me half the time …”

“Okay, you’re both too drunk, that’s my cue.” You stand and brush the dirt off of your pants, tuning out the rest of Thomas’s speech about the state of Minho’s quiff. Your eyes search the ring of Gladers for your favorite blonde boy, and you spot him perched on a log next to Alby, the leader with a genuine smile on his face as he spoke to him. Newt was one of the few people who could still make Alby smile – he had a way of making people feel at ease.

They both smile at you as you approach, and you sit down on the log next to Newt.

“Hey, love,” He says, putting an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in to place a kiss on your temple. “Tommy and Minho get too out of control?”

You laugh and nod, “Minho started asking Thomas about his hair, I had to get out of there.”

He laughs too, “Well it’s safe over here, want me to get you a drink?”

“Sure,” You smile, “anything but Gally’s recipe, someone here needs to be sober in the morning.”

“You’re right,” Alby says, “I think I better head off to bed, sleep these shuck drinks off so I can function tomorrow.”

Alby heads off to sleep, and Newt to get your drink, so you patiently sit and wait for his return as you nonchalantly pick at your nails. However, after five minutes of waiting, he still hadn’t returned, and you stand to go figure out what was holding him up. You hardly get three steps away before the Greenie steps in.

“Hey, (Y/N), right? I’m Liam.”

Ironically, the party was dedicated to him, yet you hadn’t expected to talk to him. Usually Greenies were too shy to talk to anyone at this point – especially you, being the only girl.  

“Yeah, I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you.” You smile.

He hands you a cup, “I noticed you were sitting alone, so I thought I’d bring you a drink.”

“Thank you, that was nice!” You say, a bit taken aback, “You didn’t have to do that, my boyfriend went off to get me one, but I don’t know where he ran off to.”  

He seemed to ignore your subtle hint, “No it’s okay, I wanted to.”

Seeing no other option, you take a small sip of the drink and have try your best not to spit it out and gag. Gally’s recipe. The only thing you didn’t want to drink. You just force a smile onto your face and lower the drink from your mouth.

“So, is it weird being the only girl here?” he asks after an awkward pause.

“I think everyone has gotten used to it by now. I’d say I fit in here just as much as the rest of them.”

“Yeah, but don’t you get hit on a lot?”

Man, you think to yourself. He really doesn’t beat around the bush.

You decided to do the same, “Never actually. The Gladers respect me and they respect Newt.” You’re hoping to get across the message that you weren’t interested. “Plus they know he would kick their ass if they tried anything.” You add as an afterthought.

He reaches out and brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, “Well, I hope he knows what a catch he’s got.”

You stiffen and have to try hard not to flinch. You wanted nothing more than to get out of this uncomfortable conversation. You have no idea how to respond, and luckily you don’t have to. You can see Newt striding powerfully towards the two of you, an expression of fury etched onto his features.

“Excuse me,” Newt says, roughly pushing Liam out of the way and grabbing you in his arms. He leans down and kisses you hard and passionately, making a point to slowly slide his hands down your back and pull you in closer. You smile into the kiss, enjoying this aggressive side of Newt, and you drop the drink as your hands make their way around his neck, trailing up and into his hair.

When Newt finally breaks the kiss, you look around for the Greenie, but he has disappeared.

“That’ll show the buggin’ twat,” Newt says gruffly, “If he has any sense he won’t show his face to me for awhile. I’ll give him a bloody earful.” You smile up at him, a smirk playing at your lips. “What?” He asks innocently.

As cuddly and sweet as Newt was when you were alone, he was not one for PDA – especially in front of Greenies. Aside from the occasional peck or handhold, he wanted to keep his public image as clean and professional as possible. This was part of the reason the Gladers respected him so much.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous,” You tease.

“Of course not, you know I don’t get jealous!”

You raise your eyebrows, “Newt,”

He sighs, “You should’ve heard the way he talked about you this morning and the way he wouldn’t stop looking at you and he’s got blue eyes and–”

You put your hands on his cheeks so he would look at you and listen, “And you should hear the way I’m sure every other Glader talks about me when we’re not around. Or looks at me when they think we won’t notice. It means nothing.” You say. “And I love your adorable brown eyes,” You add with a laugh.

“I guess so, but–”

“And you should hear the way you talk about me and see the way you look at me. It’s the only way I want someone to look at me. Like I’m not just some pretty face, like I’m a person that you love and care about. It’s the same way I look at you. And you’re the only one in here who I will ever look at like that.”

He smiles, accepting defeat “You’re right, as usual. I love you.”

“I love you too,” You smile, getting on your tiptoes and pecking him on the lips once more, “So can I get my drink now?”

He laughs and grabs your hand, “Yeah, yeah, of course, let’s go.”