light from a window on the left

Consider this:

Shivaay Singh Oberoi is an ASR knockoff inspired by Arnav SIngh Raizada.

Arnav was kidnapped by Shyam and kept in a warehouse by Rocky, who was honestly a pretty pathetic kidnapper when all things are considered.

If Sobti is playing Shivaay’s kidnapper, having already played another Angry Young Man for 4Lions who was kidnapped in his own show, the situation has the potential to be hilarious.

IMAGINE ALL THE JOKES.

Shivaay: “Well if I’d kidnapped you, I wouldn’t keep you in your house, just with all the lights off and windows boarded up, and all the furniture pushed to one side.”
ASR: “Yeah well, it’s a very well established technique in kidnapping rich, entitled, whiny brats.”
Shivaay: “Cos you would know.”

(Context: The ‘warehouse’ Arnav was kept in was actually just the Shantivan living room. He never left home. From the liveblogs @tellywoodtrash does, I gather Shivaay is also just chilling at home?)

ASR: “You’re not diabetic are you?”
Shivaay: “No. Why?”
ASR: “You could pretend to be fainting and then I’d have to leave you unsupervised to get you medicine.”
Shivaay: “Actually, yeah. I’z diabetic.”

milkandcookies528  asked:

She grabbed her purse before storming off and leaving. " great, run that's what you always do. Runaway from your problems." He roared as she slammed the door shut. I hope it's okay.💕

She would run, because running away from this problem was all she could do right now. She couldn’t stand to be in that room any longer.

So she’d make him deal with it. Because it was his fault.

He’d left the bedroom window open and the light on. It was his fault there was a humongous moth flying around their bedroom.

So he could remove it. And she took great pleasure in the fact that she knew he hated them too.

In the meantime, she’d be crashing on Garcia’s couch.

Maybe I’m 12 sitting on the floor at 5:00 pm when the sun still hits the window ,when I know still how appreciate light and I’m child watching the sky and feel like time hasn’t passed and it has passed so many years away from that has left and I’m shock bc I felt so good ,so innocent so me and I wish I have never have to leave the old little child that I used to love the most…

You made poetries about me. About how I curl my body when I’m asleep and how the winds scud my hair waving like riptides. How you love the way I flutter my eyes and how my irides turn into fireworks whenever I hear you say my name or just by looking at your face. You wrote about how I can never sleep with my lights on—you know I can never sleep even just with the slightest ray of light. You wrote about how I take sleeping pills every night and how I cover all the windows with thick and pitch-dark curtain just not to see a speck of luminescence from the outside. You wrote about every little thing about me. But one day, somehow, you ran out of words and you got tired of me being your muse. And since then, I wait. Every day and every night I am waiting for you to come back and tell me you are filled with words and metaphors again. Because ever since you left, I never turned off my lights. And love, I did not take sleeping pills again tonight.
—  an excerpt from theraserrano’s upcoming book, Cher Ami
Kinks

Originally posted by bwipsul

Kinks

Summay: A sort of domestic life with Jimin that’s a mix of fluff and smut. (warning: contains Asphyxiation and  a little Dirty Talk) 

Rating: M (Smut)

You pouted as you stared outside the window, it was completely white outside. You used a sweater covered palm to swipe at the thick condensation that coated your view. But it was no use, you still couldn’t see anything. No cars, no people just the faint street lights in the distance but even they seemed a bit dim and blurry compared to normal nights. You sighed quietly to yourself, already dreading all the snow you’d have to tread through on your morning commute to work the next day.

“Ahem.”

You tore yourself away from the window, watching as your boyfriend quirk an eyebrow at you. You smiled to him sheepishly, sliding down from your seat on the windowsill perch to the floor. You scooted your way closer to him, picking up the discarded papers you left all over the floor.

“You were the one who called me over to help…” he began mumbling, a cute small pout forming on his lips. “But you’re making me do all the work!” he whined throwing his arms up in exasperation before crossing them over his chest.  

Keep reading

Delicious dinner


Summary: While your father and Carl are away you decide to cook them a meal but you get an unexpected visit from Negan.
Warnings: smut, light choking, Negan’s vocabulary

Your father and Carl were out again scavenging for Negan. Which meant that you were left alone to look after Judith and the house. You decided to prepare dinner for everyone when they get back, so you headed to the kithen and grabbed everything you needed to prepare a delicious dish. It was around 6pm when you heard the rumbling of an engine. Looking through the window of your house you saw that familiar RV which didn’t belong to your father and your heart skipped a beat. The vehicles came to an end and out of one came Negan. He was greeted by one of the people from Alexandria. They were talking about something but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. Suddenly Negan’s head turned to your house and saw you staring through the window. He smiled and nodded his head then headed towards your house.

You heard the opening of a door. “Open up it’s the big bad wolf!” the deep sound of Negan’s voice boomed throughout the house.

“My father isn’t here!” you hurriedly tried to explain before he could invite himself further inside the house. But of course that didn’t stop him, he walked through the hallway and sat on the sofa in the living room with you trailing behind him.

“Well, I guess I’m going to have to fucking wait for him then.” He placed his baseball bat near him and laid down on the sofa with his hands behind his head as if he owned this house. “Wait a minute… do I smell food?” he asked as the scent of cooked food was filling the house.

“Yes, I was just preparing dinner for my family.” You tried to explain as you fiddled with your hands.

“Well fucking thank you! My stomach was just starting to eat itself, so hurry up and set the fucking table. Bring that little angle, too. We are going to eat like a fucking family!” he said happily with a big smile on his face. You didn’t want to disobey him so you quickly ran upstairs to pick up Judith and brought her downstairs. You started putting plates and utensils on the table while Negan slowly walked and sat on one of the chairs. When you were done you joined Negan on the opposite side of the table. Unfortunately, he had other plans and he quickly made a noise of disapproval with his tongue.

“No, sweetheart, come and sit close to me.” You stood up from your safe place and moved to sit next to him. He looked at you with a smug expression on his face while he was eating but you didn’t want to make eye contact with him. Just when you were about done eating he put his hand on your thigh and started rubbing it, you bit your lip before a moan left your lips. The dress that you were wearing slowly started to rise up due to his hand.

“Do you know you’re giving me a fucking hard on when you play housewife like that?” He whispered in your ear which gave you goosebumps. You cleared your throat and stood up from your chair.

“Are you done? Can I clean the dishes?” you asked as if nothing happened and reached for the dishes. As you were walking away you heard him say “Oh, honey I’m just getting started.” You turned on the water and started cleaning the dishes. You looked through your window and saw that it was pitch black, no one was outside. You felt Negan’s presence behind you.

“I’m sure your crew is waiting outside for you. You should leave.” your voice was harsh and it made Negan sigh with amusement.

“Are you sure you want me to, sweetheart?” he asked, his breath tickling your neck as he pressed himself against your back. Your breath caught in your throat when his beard started rubbing against the skin on the back of your neck leaving soft kisses. In an attempt to push him off while squirming you ended up rubbing his groin. Negan laughed at your failed athempt and pushed you further against the sink, trapping you between his body and the sink.

“I can’t someone will find out.” You said looking out the window that is just above the sink.

“I’m sure no one is up this fucking late.” Negan whispered raspily, before he slid his hand under your red dress and into your underwear while his other one wrapped tightly around your waist so your chance of escape was limited… not that you wanted to escape. Your breath was getting heavier by the second and you felt as if your heart was going to burst out of your chest. He continued softly kissing your neck which made you softly moan at the sensation.

“Do you know how fucking hard you make me every time I see you. And that dress, fuck your giving me blue balls just by looking at you.” He huskily whispered into your neck, as moans and groans started steadily filling the house, he finally inserted a finger into your wet cunt and started pumping it. Soon after he added another one and you started rolling your hips against Negan’s palm. The way his fingers curled inside you hitting that certain spot made your eyes roll back.

“Fuck, Negan, please, make me come.” You whispered-yelled when you began to feel the heat in your lower stomach.

You began to grind your hips against his palm, trying to get the most satisfaction out of the situation. Moans began to fill the room each one louder than the last. Thankfully the walls where very thick for your sounds to transfer outside. From the window you could see that most houses had their lights off, which meant that they have gone to sleep.

Without any warning he pulled his fingers out and hooked them around your panties bringing them down easily. You stepped out of them and Negan grabbed your leg to put it on top of the counter. He pulled your dress up and slapped your ass once. Now he had an easier access to fucking you.

“Do you want my big dick in your tight little pink pussy.” He roared and you heard the sound of a zipper and the rustling of pants.

“Oh god yes, please Negan fuck me!” you literally begged him. You hadn’t had sex in god knows how long and you needed it. He slid in easily and gave you almost no time to adjust when he set the pace. He was hitting the perfect spot to take you over the edge and you didn’t know how long you could last. You grabbed the sink for support until your knuckles where turning white. He grabbed your throat firmly but not too tight to hurt you.

“Negan I’m close, fuck, harder, yeah right there!” you were encouraging him as you were nearing your climax.

“That’s it baby come on my dick, squeeze that tight little pussy around me.” His dirty talk was enough to get you thought the edge. He continued to trust into you as you rode your climax off. When he was done he zipped his pants up and started walking towards Lucille. It took you time to put yourself back together but once you looked somewhat presentable you followed quickly after him.

“Well, thanks for the delicious dinner, but my crew is waiting for me.” He smirked and started walking to the door. “I’m sure I’ll be coming here quite often.” He said as he shut the door behind him.

You made poetries about me. About how I curl my body when I’m asleep and how the winds scud my hair waving like riptides. How you love the way I flutter my eyes and how my irides turn into fireworks whenever I hear you say my name or just by looking at your face. You wrote about how I can never sleep with my lights on—you know I can never sleep even just with the slightest ray of light. You wrote about how I take sleeping pills every night and how I cover all the windows with thick and pitch-dark curtain just not to see a speck of luminescence from the outside. You wrote about every little thing about me. But one day, somehow, you ran out of words and you got tired of me being your muse. And since then, I wait. Every day and every night I am waiting for you to come back and tell me you are filled with words and metaphors again. Because ever since you left, I never turned off my lights. And love, I did not take sleeping pills again tonight.
—  an excerpt from @theraserrano’s upcoming book, “Cher Ami”
Toxic Love

Originally posted by bringmesomepie56

When you woke up the next morning everything felt wrong.

The light from the window wasn’t heating up the right spot, your head was pounding with the after effects of alcohol and even the bed sheets smelt different.

And that’s when you remembered.

Jensen.

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Do you remember
when I loved you
And you loved me
And we lived in this house
We built it together
It was so full of all our hopes
All our dreams, remember?
We painted the walls red,
That was our favorite color.
We made love in that bed
Sometimes we didn’t even bother to fix the sheets
We talked from moon to sun in the space
Of black and street lights
Streaming through the window
And you loved me
And I loved you, remember?
And it was enough to forget
We left the cookies in the oven.
You let me fall asleep on your chest
Every night before you rolled over
And I hugged your hips
And we fell into the space of each other
I remember my hair sitting in your face
And your body heat resonating under the sheets
And I hated when your feet touched mine
Because sometimes you’d call me ashy
And sometimes I’d call you clammy.
I loved you so much.
I know you loved me too.
I pass by that building wondering
who holds you on these empty nights
And If you put sheets on the bed
for someone new to mess up
And if the cookies still bake too hard
Or if I left my slippers.
And I can’t help but miss you,
Wondering what happened
To make you stop loving me too.
—  You’re always on my mind
Writing #3

Sirius was crying.
Great, racking sobs emenated from the bed, its curtains closed. The room was dark, the blinds on the windows still closed from before everyone left for Christmas. The only source of light was coming from a lit wand probably near the pillows, attenuated by the fabric surrounding the bed. There were tissues everywhere, and as Remus watched, another fell off the bed from the headboard.
“Sirius?” Remus called, advancing.
Remus heard a whimper, and the sound of a few tissues being hastily ripped out of the box.
“It’s just Remus, Pads. What’s going on? Can I come in?”
No answer came. Remus sat down on the adjacent bed.
“I’ll wait.”
The tears continued, but a hand gingerly tossed the curtains aside in front of Remus. And Remus saw Sirius.
He looked bad. His hair was tied back in a messy bun, which normally would have looked good on him, but now it looked like a symbol of hopelessness. There were half chewed up dog biscuits in the far corner of the bed, like Sirius had transformed into Padfoot and had tried to eat but couldn’t keep things down. There were grey tear tracks on Sirius’ face, the tears having mixed with eyeliner. Sirius’ red lipstick was smeared, traces of it on his cheeks and around his eyes. There were tears in his eyelashes, and he was looking down at the extra blankets piled on the bed. There was more lipstick on the sleeves of his sweater, which had been stretched to the point of drooping over Sirius’ red stained hands. He looked so… vulnerable, and alone.
“Sirius… Sirius, what happened?” Remus asked gently, as he made his way slowly to the other bed, sitting down softly in front of Sirius. He took Sirius’ hands in his own and tried to get Padfoot to look at him.
Sirius wiped at his nose, then at his eyes, then at his mouth. He kept staring at the bed sheets, barely moving except for the sobs still going through his body.
Remus fingered at the lipstick surrounding Padfoot’s mouth, letting Sirius take his time.
“It’s- she-”
Each attempt at a sentence was punctuated by a sniffle, and Remus massaged Sirius’ hands, kissing his forehead.
“Take your time. You don’t have to tell me right now, you don’t have to talk, it’s okay,” Remus assured him. “Shhh, it’s okay.”
Sirius could feel Remus’ hands rubbing his back, and he buried his face in Moony’s shoulder. He threw his arms around Remus.
“She… she found out about us… and she… she…”
The words were muffled by Remus’ jumper, but he could still understand. Sirius’ mother had somehow found out about the two of them dating over Christmas break.
“She sent- she sent a Howler. She hasn’t sent me anything in years! How did she find out, Moony? How did she-”
Sirius was shaking. Remus continued brushing his hands through Padfoot’s hair and holding him.
“I just… I just need a hug.”
And Remus gave him more than that. He embraced Sirius, tighter than before, letting Sirius feel their two heartbeats, and then he kissed him, softly. They held each other for a few more minutes, and Sirius was calming down, slowly, still silently crying. But he knew this was right. This relationship wasn’t what his mother had told him it was: disgusting, wrong, damned, a disgrace. This was real, true love, and he still felt horrible but he had Remus by his side, wiping his tears away, helping.
They fell asleep in each other’s arms, despite it being the afternoon, curtains closed, old tissues on the ground.

after

After everyone else is asleep in the basement, she goes back upstairs. She catches sight of her reflection in the window: hollow-eyed, her blouse loose where it used to be perfectly tailored, her long hair in a ponytail she put in two days ago. She needs a shower, a full meal, an entire fucking bottle of wine. None of those things are forthcoming.

Under the window, with the light from the moon shining in, she takes out the journal. There are rough edges where she tore out the note she left behind. It wasn’t something she’d imagined. The note was there, and now it’s missing.

She writes, The world has gotten so small, then sets the pen down. Closes her eyes.

The basement stairs creak, advising her of someone’s approach. It’s Mulder, because of course it is. He collapses onto the couch and leans back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“How much of that did you already know?” His eyes are steel.

“A lot,” she says quietly.

“That whole time,” he says. “You didn’t let me go out. What do they have, Scully?”

She licks her lips. Her eyes flit toward the corner of the room, away from him. “You’re not asking the right questions.”

Against the cushions his fists clench and unclench. “Stop fucking around, Scully.”

“It’s not what, Mulder. It doesn’t matter what it is. What matters is where it came from.” Their eyes lock.

All the things she should have known, should have seen coming. Over the past few years she’s seen all kinds of strange cases come through the hospital, diseases no one had ever seen, bacteria that multiplied faster than the laws of science permitted. In the new world the laws of science were evidently as mutable as the laws of man. But she hadn’t made the connection. Not until it was too late.

“I think this has been in the works for a long time,” she says softly. “I think the men we fought against have finally made their move. They just had to wait for a leader who wouldn’t try to stop them.”

“They’re collaborators,” Mulder says roughly. “All of them.”

“I know. I know what they are.” And this shouldn’t have surprised her, either. She’s a realist. She knows that the world gets worse and then incrementally gets better, and then gets worse again. This is the real arc of history, as far as she can tell. The moral arc of the universe is really just a sine curve.

“Skinner said he was immune to it.”

Scully nods. “He was vaccinated, I think. I imagine most people at his level would be. And I…after I was abducted I had some unusual antibodies in my blood. Will has all of those antibodies, too. I think…I think they’re preventative. I think they’re from wherever the disease is from.“ By the end her voice is barely audible.

"I don’t have them, though,” he says flatly.

She hesitates.

He gets up from the couch and crosses the room in one sudden smooth motion. “That’s why you wouldn’t let me out of the car,“ he says to the window. "You thought I’d catch it. Jesus, Scully. You could have fucking told me.”

"I hoped I was wrong.” She stands to join him. When she touches his forearm he flinches back, closes his eyes like he’s trying to block her out.

He says, “So it’s just a matter of time.”

She’s defiant. “That’s not what I said.” The blood and the bone and the horror, and she thinks, I am not going to let this thing happen to you.

“Yeah? And what are you going to do?”

“Skinner wants — he wants me to go with him,” she says, slow. “Try to synthesize a new vaccine. While you’re here, running the safe house.” She can see that familiar twitch in his jaw and she wants to beg him not to say it.

But he does, inevitably. “Of course he does,” Mulder says, sharp as a knife’s edge. “He’s finally got a shot.”

Her entire body stiffens. “Don’t you dare,” she hisses. “Where’s your head, Mulder? We’re talking about the survival of the human race.”

“Maybe we don’t deserve to be saved.”

“Well, you’re not the one who gets to decide that.”

“And you do? Maybe we should just let nature take its course, Scully. We’ve fucked things up badly enough—”

“Do you want the truth, Mulder?” she spits. “This is for you. I am doing this for you.”

Her breaths come shallow and she’s suddenly, strangely panicky. She presses her open palm to her chest and turns away from him. She remembers what the air smelled like a month ago. It’s stale in the house, it reeks of mildew and unwashed bodies, and outside the moon is staring back at them and she just has to remember how to breathe—

From behind her Mulder puts his hands on her shoulders and even though he’s most of the reasons she’s angry right now, his hands steady her. She turns and wraps her arms around him, feeling her heartbeat slow to match his. She listens to it beat, a-live, a-live, a-live.

“I don’t know how to fight this,” he says gruffly.

“I don’t know what else to do,” she says into his chest, her voice thick. “We can’t hide forever. I have to feel like I’m doing something.”

“We’re too old for this shit, Scully.”

“I know,” she says, not quite laughing. It’s a watery sound, uncertain. “I still have to go, Mulder.”

She can feel him swallow. “When?”

“It could be a week. Maybe a month, he wasn’t sure. Someone will come get us when it’s time.” Scully holds him tighter. This is a choice, she reminds herself. You are making a choice.

They hold each other in the dark. She pretends it doesn’t feel like goodbye.

Window Shenanigans | A Kacchako Drabble

I missed the boat on @kacchako-week​, but maybe it’ll take this late entry? It’s the first of a series of short drabbles. Enjoy!

Premise: Ochako discovers that not only is her dorm on the same floor as Bakugou, but his bedroom window in the boys wing is directly across from hers. Through a series of late-night window shenanigans, the two learn to understand each other without even saying a word.


PART 1: THE INCIDENT WITH THE BOOK

It started two months after Ochako moved into the U.A. dorm.

Ochako was staying up late one winter night when the light directly across from her room switched on. She glanced out her window, expecting to see closed blinds backlit from the inside, and instead spied Bakugou.

Most students with dorm rooms facing the interior of the building kept their blinds down at all times, Ochako included. It was only on a whim that she left them up that night. All this time, she had no idea that Bakugou’s room was parallel to her own. And judging by the way he started to roughly dismantle his own bedroom, he didn’t know either.  

Papers flew across the window, and clothes erupted from the closet. From Ochako’s vantage point across the way, it looked like Bakugou was turning his own bedroom inside out. He paced with clenched fists, ripped his own sheets off the bed, paced some more, got on his knees to look underneath his dresser. It reminded Ochako of a tiger moving restlessly in a cage, striking anything that dared move.

Bakugou kept returning to his bookcase, scrutinizing the titles, and then whirling away to look at something else. Ochako leaned forward and squinted through her window. Her eyes darted to her homework, back to the window, and then it hit her.

Oh! A textbook. Bakugou was tearing his room apart searching for a textbook.

Keep reading

Sherlock Valentine’s Day Challenge Day #12

”I’m sure you two will be very happy together.”

Sherlock x Reader

Side Notes: I’m back!! :) Quite a few of the moments in this fic are from the actual show, with some little changes. Enjoy!

Warning: Light swearing.

Originally posted by rainingooblah

Sherlock stood at the flat’s window, a familiar mobile phone held in his left hand as he stared at it filled with longing. Sitting in John’s chair, you watched as your boyfriend weighed it in his hands, back and forth. You realized he had not taken notice of your figure retreating from your room minutes before. 

“The woman,” he whispered as a small smile spread on his face, “The woman.”

Sherlock shook his head and threw the phone in the air before catching it, his grip tighter than it had been before. He moved his head to the right and you could no longer see Sherlock’s profile, although his back appeared to tense. He looked down to the floor when his hand dropped to his side.

You frowned while leaning forward in the chair, hands clasped between your legs. He cares about her. 

You weren’t the only woman to have caught Sherlock’s unwavering attention. 

He loved Irene Adler, too.


“Crap!” You yelled as your toe collided with the leg of the table in the kitchen, once looking up to find Janine nearly resting on Sherlock’s lap. Your mind had flashed back to the moment you felt yourself losing Sherlock to another - although nothing measured to how much you truly lost him in this moment. 

“Y/N! What happened, are you okay?” Janine asked you, her voice laced with concern which you absolutely hated.

“Oh yeah, yeah, I’m fine - didn’t know where I was going!” You replied with a tense laugh, dragging a chair out to sit down and let the pain diminish.

Keeping your eyes on the roof and grimacing, you purposefully avoided Sherlock’s gaze which you knew was focused on deducing what you were thinking. John, shaking off his shock of discovering Sherlock has yet another relationship, walked over to your side to inspect how you were doing. His eyes pleaded with yours once he knew why you had hurt yourself.

“I’m okay,” You whispered. 

Whispers came from the front room before footsteps approached where you were sitting. You looked up to see Janine pulling Sherlock into the bathroom and groaned as the door slammed shut. John turned around, after seeing the hurt rise on your face, to find what had happened.

“You’re okay with that?”

“Of course not, John. How could I be?” You growled. The sound of a shower being turned on filled the silence and you shoved the chair back to head into your room, closing the door to become as far away from what was happening out there as possible. You lay yourself on your bed and took deep breaths to calm yourself, but it was no use. You turned over, raising your knees to your chest as a tear ran down your cheek.

Fuck.”


It had been a few minutes when you decided to pull yourself together, open the door to walk and grab your coat, before the two of them finished whatever the hell they were doing in that steaming room.

That was the plan, however, until you came face to face with Sherlock and Janine kissing passionately at the front door. Your mouth fell open as you backed up a few steps, colliding into John’s back. He was beginning to raise his hands to lay over your shoulders when you stepped forward sharply with a large smile in anger.

“Wow, who knew there’d be a day Sherlock actually has a girlfriend.” Janine broke away from him and smiled at you. “I sure didn’t! Did you, John?”

He shook his head. “I had my suspicions but… it appears it was only Janine, after all.”

“This is just great! Isn’t it, Sherlock.” You smirked at your boyfriend before continuing. “Now it’s your turn to get married.”

Janine blushed and turned to kiss Sherlock, whose eyes stayed trained on yours as her lips met his.

“He wishes!”

You laughed along with her as Janine began to retreat out of the flat and waved lovingly to Sherlock. Your smile collapsed once she was out of your line of sight, moving around to look out the windows with your arms crossed. 

“Y/N.”

You refused to answer and continued to face away from your boyfriend that was at a loss of what to say. Sherlock looked over to John for help, who shook his head and retreated from the room to leave you two alone. 

“Sherlock, what was that?” You said quietly when the silence was deafening.

His mouth opened without a sound coming out. Sherlock closed it when he heard nothing, before swallowing and opening his lips again to talk to you. “You told me this was okay, that you understood it was for a case.”

You whipped around, away from the sun shining on your body, to face Sherlock. “Okay? I told you it was okay to pretend to be interested in her, not to jump into the shower with her!”

“We didn’t -”

“Then, I come out to find you kissing her.” You let out a harsh laugh. “Sherlock, we kiss like that! You were enjoying it with her!”

No. It’s simple, even you can deduce this Y/N. I envision it as you, of course it looks like I - “ 

You shook your head defiantly before interrupting Sherlock. “How would I know that? You’ve lied to me about your whole relationship with Janine - this even happened with Irene, too! You loved her, Sherl.”

“No! No, don’t bring her into this. I didn’t lie, I just merely didn’t mention it to you - you’re being difficult, Y/N. You told me you understood.”

“Well, I don’t think I want to anymore.” 

Sherlock’s eyes widened, reaching out for your hand. You felt him grasp it in his own, twisting it around for better grip. His eyes searched yours, deciding to pull you towards him to crash his lips onto yours. 

The palms of your hands rested on his face, moving your lips with his in sync. Sherlock moved to kiss up your jaw and towards your closed eyelids. He then gently kissed your nose, finally resting his forehead on yours. Salty tears fell from your eyes and ran down over your mouth.

Pulling back slightly, while Sherlock’s kiss lingered on your lips, you said, “I’m sure you two will be very happy together.”

Your hands dropped away from his cheeks and moved to grab your coat off the hook. The broken, near tears look Sherlock gave you almost broke your own heart - but you knew that this… this was inevitable. 

It was a vicious, never ending cycle of push and pull. There was never a single moment when you didn’t question Sherlock’s feelings for you - when you thought that he wouldn’t leave you at any given moment.

Now, it was your turn to let him fear your loss. 

“But I -” You squeezed his hand and let it go, as the warmth from your body left his own completely. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Sherlock.”

Scratch - Part 10 - (Steve x Reader)

Originally posted by slayveronica

Summary: (Y/N) and Steve have been best friends since New York, so when when they are both going through a dry spell they agree to a friends with benefits relationship.

A/N: Okay so I don’t describe Oliver because I wanted to leave that up to y’all to picture him how you like, but in my mind Oliver is Queenie, aka Stephen Amell, also kinda why I named him Oliver. Did anyone else participate in a day without immigrants? I did, and a lot of my family did too. Only three more parts left!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

I was curled up in my bed under the covers with a firm chest pressed against my back. The morning sun was peaking in through the window curtains and the light was directly on my eyes. I groaned in frustration and turned into the chest to hide from the light.

“Morning,” a deep voice said.

I grumbled some more and curled further into the warm body.

“You’re going to have to get up at some point,” Oliver chuckled wrapping his arms around me.

“I don’t want to,” I mumble. “And you can’t make me.”

“I will take that challenge,” Oliver laughs. His hands slowly move down my bare back sending a shiver down my spine.

I close my eyes tighter and try not to think about what he is making me feel. When his hands reach my sides my eyes shoot wide open and my room is filled with Oliver’s laughter and my own as he tickles me awake.

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archiveofourown.org
Red Light - audreycritter - Batman - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

“Gah,” Jason Todd exclaims, slamming one hand against the steering wheel. Dev, to his credit, does not jump but looks up briefly from the article he is reading on his phone.

“Problem?” Dev asks, glancing ahead at the road from the passenger seat.

“I’m so fricking hungry,” Jason growls, twisting in his seat to look out the rear window. “Tim’s right there. Why the frick did we decide to wait until after her recital to eat?”

“Because it’s barely five in the evening, mate,” Dev answers, sounding vaguely amused. They left the Arts Hall after going to Cassandra’s afternoon ballet recital en masse, and managed to talk Alfred into take-out burgers instead of the older man skipping the recital to prepare food for afterward.

“It’s a stupid time to eat lunch,” Jason snaps. “And why did Tim pick it all up, anyway.”


Dev pockets his phone and gives Jason a level look as the car crawls forward in traffic.

“Mate.”

“What?!” Jason exclaims, throwing his head back. “AUGH.”

“We’re having dinner. Did you not eat lunch?”

“What the hell,” Jason throws an arm in the air and slams the gas to close the gap that’s suddenly opened ahead of them. A second later, he pounds the brake just as hard at a red light. “Alfred told me not to eat!”

“He didn’t mean all day, mate,” Dev says, a little startled now. “You could’ve had lunch.”

“Hold on,” Jason snaps. “Fuck it.”

The younger man throws the gear shift into park and before Dev can even yell in protest, Jason flings the car door open and tumbles out of the car, shaking off his seatbelt.

“Jay!” Dev says, pointlessly, craning to see.

Jason jogs ten feet back and bends down at the window of Tim’s car. Dev can make out Tim’s confused expression through the glass, but a moment later a brown paper bag of food and a drink are extended through the open window.

Jason snatches them and sprints back to his car, sliding into the seat amidst the car’s angry beeping at being left on while the door is open. He buckles again just as the light changes to green and the engine makes an awful revving noise when he presses the gas.

“Drive,” Dev says and Jason whips the gear shift around and they’re moving forward again.

Somehow in those few seconds of running or buckling, Jason has already gotten a cheeseburger out of the bag and is chewing a mouthful.

“I slept in,” he mumbles around a large bite. “Didn’t have time. Goodness gracious, this is heaven.”

“It’s only Park Avenue,” Dev jokes, peering into the bag Jason had thrown onto his lap.

“Listen,” Jason insists, “I love this cheeseburger more than I’ve loved anything or anyone ever. With all my heart. See if there’s another one.”

“The sack’s full of them,” Dev answers, sorting through the wrappers. “No chips, though.”

“Tim said there’s another bag of those,” Jason says, wadding the paper and foil wrapper. He reaches over and grabs another burger. “Alfred will understand.”

“We’ll say I gave you mine if anyone’s miffed,” Dev says, folding the top of the bag shut.

“Well, now I feel bad,” Jason protests, taking another bite anyway.

“I just want chips, mate. I ate lunch like a sane person,” Dev says with a grin.

“Har har,” Jason answers with his mouth full. “Gimme Dick’s next.”

Dev’s hand tightens on the bag and he edges it away from Jason’s reach.

“I’m not gonna eat it,” Jason says, putting a hand up in a gesture of assurance. “I’m just gonna lick it and put it back. I’ll tell him later.”

Dev raises an eyebrow and moves the bag further away.

“You are zero fun, Dr. Frankenstein,” Jason grumbles, turning off the main road stretch they’d been on. “It’s like you’ve been spending too much time with Bruce.”

“Don’t act surprised,” Dev says. “If you get him ill, guess who has to take care of it?”

“Alfred?” Jason asks. “Okay, yeah. That’s a deterrent.”

“I meant me, you plonker,” Dev says, his tone offended. “I’d not leave him to Alfie alone.”

“Oh, in that case, hand it over anyway.” Jason shrugs and slurps soda from the cup and then makes a face. “This is fucking gross. Why is this orange.”

“Your da’s, and I’ve tried to talk him out of it,” Dev says, pressing his shoulder against the door to brace himself. “Bloody hell, Jay, slow for the turns or we’ll both end up zombies.”

“You aren’t a Wayne,” Jason scoffs. “What makes you think you’d come back?”

“Steph’s not a Wayne and she came back,” Dev retorts, taking the cup out of Jason’s hand. “If you don’t care about us, at least have mercy on your sodding suspension.”

“It’s Bruce’s car. I don’t care,” Jason says, speeding through a yellow light. He glances in the rearview mirror. “And Steph didn’t actually die. Good. We lost Tim.”

“Were we trying to lose Timothy?” Dev asks, turning his head to look out the back.

“We’re racing,” Jason answers. A second later, he cuts the wheel hard and they slam around a corner into an alleyway. “Fish-fucking-sticks, I forgot about that new bridge. I bet Tim took it.”

“I did not agree to racing,” Dev says firmly. “Not in the middle of Gotham.”

“We have to get you away from Bruce. He’s rubbing off on you and it’s awful.” Jason doesn’t slow down coming out of the alley and takes a u-turn almost immediately on the road he joins.

“Have you ever been in a car with Bruce, mate,” Dev says. “Bloody hell, at this point, I’m not even going to want chips. Your da drives like a bat out–” He stops abruptly.

Jason turns to him with a wicked grin.

“Finish it,” he orders, blowing through a yellow light.

“I’m just going to stop talking,” Dev says instead. “I’m going to close my eyes and whinge to Alfie when we get back and never get in a car I’m not driving, ever again.”

“If you don’t want your fries, can I have those, too?” Jason asks, slowing suddenly. They crawl down the street at five miles under the speed limit and Dev watches out the window as they pass a squad car tucked back into an alley with a radar gun. “Do you know if they jokerized them?”

“If they what?” Dev replies, his stomach turning. As soon as they’re around a corner, the car picks up speed again.

“The fries. Did they jokerize them. The seasoning?” Jason says, as if this is obvious. “They’re crap without it but sometimes Tim skips it because Bruce gets weird about it.”

“How dare your da get weird about remembering you died,” Dev says dryly. “The sodding audacity.”

“Hey,” Jason says, coughing. He picks up the soda and drinks some. The younger man makes a face at the taste and then sips it again anyway. “You’re doing better. You didn’t pause all funny before you said it this time.”

“Audacity?” Dev says with a grin. “I’m shite at writing, but I can manage some big words.”

“You know what the frick I mean,” Jason laughs. “I’m pretty sure we lost, by the way. Check Tim’s location.”

“I’m not ringing him, mate. If he’s still driving, he’ll answer anyway. The lot of you have no self-preservation skills whatsoever,” Dev refuses as they drive over the bridge toward the more secluded Manor.

“You’re so old,” Jason complains. “Just open your texts and go to his contact info. It should be right there. Dick made him share his location with everyone after that insomnia thing.”

Dev slides his phone out of his pocket with his free hand and taps on the screen.

“Huh,” he says. “This is bloody convenient. He’s half a mile from the Manor and not moving. I hope Dames is okay.”

“Why wouldn’t Damian be okay?” Jason asks, looking over sharply.

“He was in the back, yeah? And if Tim was driving anything like you were…” Dev trails off as if this is enough information.

“You lost me,” Jason says. “Damian’s an idiot but he wouldn’t try to take over.”

“He gets carsick in the backseat, mate,” Dev says, typing a text while he talks. “Did you not know?”

“How do you know that?” Jason demands. “Gah, it’s like you’re turning into Alfred.”

“He was sick all over my car on the way to Lake Vernon last summer. He was too sodding stubborn to ask me to stop.”

“I don’t even know why you stick around,” Jason exclaims, braking to a stop. Tim’s car is on the shoulder of the road but the car is empty.

“Mostly for tea,” Dev says, opening his door. “I’ll look about.” He sets the bag of cheeseburgers on the seat when he stands, then he stoops over and gives Jason a skeptical glance and takes the bag with him.

Jason flicks the hazard lights on and climbs out. He squints, looking down the road.

“They’re up there, walking,” he says.

“The petrol tank says it’s empty,” Dev adds, looking through the driver’s side window of Tim’s car.

“Get back in,” Jason says quickly. “Hurry. He saw us.”

Dev obeys and barely is buckled again before the car speeds forward.

“What the bloody hell,” he yelps as the speedometer tips toward 60 miles per hour. They rush past Stephanie and Cassandra, who are holding bags of food and trays of drinks. A second later, they speed past Tim and Damian, who are both sprinting.

“We can still win,” Jason says. “And loser has to tell Bruce that we broke the T-Rex’s head before the recital.”

“You what,” Dev exclaims. “Does this mean we’re free? We can burn it in the yard?”

“He’s going to fix it. He fixed it last time.”

“Then what’s the bloody point?” Dev demands, sounding defeated. “How did you break it, anyway?”

“Um,” Jason says reluctantly. “We shot it. But it was an accident. And we won!”

The car skids to a stop on the drive in front of the Manor with a whining screech.

“You accidentally shot…the head of…the massive dinosaur…” Dev summarizes faintly.

“Mhmm. With a crossbow,” Jason says. “We didn’t think it’d just fucking shatter like that, but I guess it’s gotten brittle. And now Tim gets to tell Bruce and I swear to god someone will die if they didn’t season those fries.” He’s already out of the car and he bangs on the roof. “You coming?”

“Yes,” Dev says in a detached voice. “But only because Alfie’s inside and I can find some semblance of sanity there, otherwise I’d just spend the night right here, thanks.”

“Can I still have your fries?” Jason asks, turning to give Tim and Damian the finger as they stagger onto the front lawn from the road. Tim gives it back and sits down on the grass and Damian runs faster. Jason yells and bolts up the stairs. “Answer me inside! If I’m still alive!”

Dev waves to Tim who waves limply before falling onto his back on the lawn.

“I’m so hungry!” the faint yell carries to the car. “Can you throw me a cheeseburger?”

“What, did none of you eat before?” Dev shouts back, his grip tightening on the bag.

“I slept in!” Tim replies. “And then the burgers were stolen.”

Dev sighs and turns toward the Manor.

“Drag your sorry arse inside,” he calls over his shoulder. He stops and takes a cheeseburger out and sets it on the steps. “Here. I’m luring you.”

When he glances back, Tim raises a hand in a thumbs-up gesture.

“This sodding family,” Dev mutters. Alfred appears just inside the doorway and doesn’t flinch or blink at the sound of crashing behind him.

“In one piece?” the older man asks calmly.

“Just barely,” Dev replies. “I thought ballet was supposed to be calm and civilized.”

“Not for the Waynes,” Alfred says with a slight smile, stepping aside. “But I hardly think this should be news to you.”

Jason steps around Alfred and back out onto the top step with a struggling, protesting Damian thrown over his shoulder.

“Did you jokerize the fries?” he roars down toward the lawn where Tim is still lying. Tim sits up and cups his hands around his mouth to shout back.

“Of course I did. They’re gross plain.”

“Eat them outside!” Bruce’s voice carries out of the house from somewhere down a hallway. “Or I throw them away!”

Jason drops Damian, who just barely manages to land on his feet, and he tips his head back and growls.

“You’re repressing everyone!” he complains loudly.

“I’ll clean the patio table,” Alfred says, disappearing inside.

“My house, my rules!” Bruce answers and Jason turns and slams the door shut.

The girls are at the edge of the lawn now, still carrying food. Cassandra is slurping slushie through a fat straw. A window above the steps opens and Dick leans out.

“Did Jason lick my cheeseburger again?” he demands of the crowd in general. “Jay. Jason.”

“Frick yes I did,” Jason says.

“He didn’t,” Dev answers, holding the bag aloft. The window shuts.

“You have no sense of fun,” Jason moans, snatching Damian up again. The boy is as tall as Tim now, so it’s less like watching a child being picked up and more like watching someone be abducted. “Come on, Demonbird. We’re going to jump in the pool just like this.”

Tim has dragged himself to his feet and joins Dev on the steps. He leans over and picks up the cheeseburger sitting on the ground and unwraps it.

“I have to tell Bruce about the T-Rex,” he mutters. “Wanna come?”

“Why not,” Dev answers with a shrug. “It’s safer than being by the pool.”

Two Sentence Horror Stories

“I begin tucking him into bed and he tells me, “Daddy check for monsters under my bed.” I look underneath for his amusement and see him, another him, under the bed, staring back at me quivering and whispering, “Daddy there’s somebody on my bed.”

“I can’t move, breathe, speak or hear and it’s so dark all the time. If I knew it would be this lonely, I would have been cremated instead.”

“Don’t be scared of the monsters, just look for them. Look to your left, to your right, under your bed, behind your dresser, in your closet but never look up, she hates being seen.”

“I woke up to hear knocking on glass. At first, I though it was the window until I heard it come from the mirror again.”

“She wondered why she was casting two shadows. After all, there was only a single light bulb.”

“There was a picture in my phone of me sleeping. I live alone.”

“I just saw my reflection blink.”

“Working the night shift alone tonight. There is a face in the cellar staring at the security camera.”

“After working a hard day I came home to see my girlfriend cradling our child. I didn’t know which was more frightening, seeing my dead girlfriend and stillborn child, or knowing that someone broke into my apartment to place them there.”

“The longer I wore it the more it grew on me. She had such pretty skin.”


The one below is written by myself.

“I went downstairs to get a snack late last night. My dog’s tail always thuds the couch in sleepy excitement, but I took her to the overnight vet a few hours ago.”

Drove past your house on the way home from work last night, a message from his dad says when he checks his phone one morning. The lights were on.

Niall already has his bags packed. His guitar is leant up against the wall by the front door of the rented flat, and a car is set to pick him up for the airport in a matter of hours. He presses the phone to the mattress, and then his head to his pillow. Screen and nose in threaded conversation upon sheets that aren’t his. His breath is warm of transparent longing on all that white, an It’s easier than it should be to change his destination in a matter of minutes.

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Prompt Series; Alec Lightwood - #16. “I can’t believe they caught us having-”
Requested by: @crazyfangirl345
Warnings: smut. I’m sorry if it wasn’t really what you wanted, but I got a little bit carried away. 😅😂😊

You fluttered your eyes open as the light flooded your eyes from the window. You rolled away from the light and stretched, moaning as you did.

“Baby, I’m not even doing anything.” Alec mumbled to your left with his eyes still closed.

You giggled. “You wish you could make me moan.”

His eyes shot open. “Did you forget last night so quickly?”

You smirked. “Who said I wasn’t faking it?” His mouth dropped open, making you laugh, throwing your head back on to the pillow.

“Let’s play a game then.” He said, propping himself on his elbows.

Your smirk was still on your face as you asked, “what game is that?”

“Ten minutes.” He said.

“I don’t know what that is, Alec.”

“Well, first I set a timer for ten minutes. Then, you just lay there. If I can get you to moan before the clock runs out, I win. If not, you win. I can do whatever I want to try and get you to moan.” He said, a smirk playing at his features.

You tried to not let your face waiver. You were only joking before and Alec knew that. He knew all of your sweet spots. You knew it was very possible that he could win. But you were very stubborn.

“What do I get if I win?” You ask.

“You won’t have to worry about it.” He said, grinning. “Be as confident as you want, but you know that I know exactly what you like.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and say, “Whatever you say. If I win, we have to go on a double date with Simon and Izzy.”

He rolled his eyes. “If I win, you can’t wear Izzy’s clothes on missions anymore.”

“It’s a bet.” You say.

He leaned over to the table and grabbed his phone setting a timer. “And… Time begins… Now.” He said and came over to you smirking.

He leaned down to your neck and began kissing, sucking, and biting all of your favorite places. You bit your lip, but so far you were okay. You and Alec were only in your underwear. His hand trailed down your stomach and to your panty line. He came to your ear and breathed softly on it before licking your earlobe.

His hands came back up your body and unhooked your bra. He took it between his teeth and moved it out of the way before kissing in between your breasts. He smirked a little as your breath hitches in your throat. You gritted your teeth and cursed yourself in your mind telling you to get a grip.

He went to your left breast and began kissing. Then, he licked a circle all the way around your nipple before suddenly taking it in his mouth, using his tongue to do circles around it. Your head instinctively went back into the pillow and you gritted your teeth harder. Your hands balled up into fists as his hands traveled down to your panty line, removing them.

His mouth left your breast and kissed your lips as he spread your legs, rubbing his covered self against you. His tongue began to explore your mouth and it was taking all you had not to give in to a moan. Alec pulled away from your mouth and went to your ear. He whispered, “Baby, you know you want to give up.”

“Never.” You whispered back. How long has it been anyways? You couldn’t see his phone, but you were sure and alarm would go off.

“Stubborn ass.” He whispered before removing his boxers. Your eyes went wide. “I said I could do anything I wanted to make you moan.” He said as he hovered over you again.

He rubbed himself against you and your head threw back, opening your mouth, but you stopped yourself. Alec chuckled. “I love a challenge.”

He began sucking on your breast again. Your eyes closed, trying to focus on clenching your teeth, when suddenly, he entered you. Your hands grabbed the sheets, balling them up in your hands. You screamed out and suddenly the door opened.

“Guys-” you heard clary say. You immediately pulled apart, but it was too late. Clary and Jace had seen you. “Oh my-” clary started as Jace interrupted her.

“Sorry!” Jace yelled slamming the door shut.

You and Alec just laid there a moment before you said, “I can’t believe they caught us having-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Alec said quickly. “Ever.”

You just busted out laughing.