making her face longer and less wider than it should be

#89- Size kink (Sam x Jody)

Requested by @icantthinkofaname-oops​ for my kink list (master list here).

Warning: smut, Sam’s monster cock (Totally a warning)

Word Count: 1700ish

A/N: Oh, Winmills. I’ve missed you. Enjoy! XOXO

Jody’s never been shy. She doesn’t think twice about telling Sam to get changed, even though they’re in a car and there’s no place for him to do that without being seen. It doesn’t matter. He’s a hunter and is probably used to things like that, and she has a gun to load.

It doesn’t take her very long, however, and he’s in between his suit pants and his jeans when she’s got nowhere else to put her eyes except on him.

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Enough

Happy Birthday @enoughtotemptme! Keeping the tradition alive, here is your birthday ficlet. Remember when I said not canon? Woops. Future fic/au/etc. - you know the drill. Happy birthday love! <3


When Bellamy winces for the third time in as many minutes, Clarke decides she’s had enough.

“Alright, get up.” Ignoring his protests, she rounds the fire and pulls him into a seated position, trying to shove the jacket off his shoulders. He does nothing to help, just sitting there and giving her an infuriating smirk.

“Y’know princess, if I’d known you wanted to—”

“Shut up,” she warns through gritted teeth. “You need to let me look at your arm. Right. Now.”

The smirk disappears. “Clarke, it’s a scratch—”

“A scratch that won’t let you sleep.” She glares at him, and he glares right back. After fifteen very unproductive seconds, Clarke reaches further down and digs her thumb into his forearm. Bellamy swears, loudly.

She folds her ams. “Jacket off.”

Still glaring, he shrugs his arm out, but she doesn’t miss the beads of sweat that trickle from his forehead. He thrusts his arm in her direction.

“Bellamy…” she shakes her head as she takes in the swelling. Just a scratch, indeed. Sighing, she looks at him. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Wasn’t important.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke tilts her head, trying to catch his eye. “You are important. Therefore this is important. Okay?”

He makes a soft sound; it could be a laugh, but it’s too rueful for that. When Bellamy looks up, there’s such a stark sadness on his face that Clarke almost forgets about his arm. “Why do you always do that?” He asks.

“Do what?”

“Why do you always say everything except what you actually mean?”

Taken aback, she just stares. “I…”

Bellamy shakes his head and looks off into the trees. “Nevermind.”

“No, Bellamy, I—”

“Nevermind,” he says again, still holding his arm out.

In silence, she treats the infected wound and binds it carefully, forcing herself to pay attention to the work in front of her and not his words ringing in her mind. Was she really guilty of shielding herself that much when it came to him?

I can’t lose you too.

Thank you for keeping me alive.

How special you really are.

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In the Service of the Princess

Author’s Note: Guess what I’ve been worshipping playing for the past month. Heavy spoilers ahead

Series: Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Pairing: Zelda/Link

Length: 1550 words

Rating: Safe


Her Appointed Knight.

That’s what her father called him. What he was assigned to, with virtually little to no say in the matter from her. Zelda didn’t ask to be defended. Nor did she want to be a bystander; considered a vulnerable liability in a war.

And now she had a living reminder of that, following her around at every turn.

Goddess Hylia must have had a cruel sense of humor. Her father as well. He considers this boy to be the royal knight who was destined to seal the darkness plaguing their lands? He was hardly her age, much less her height. One of few words, that much she was thankful. Zelda could hardly stomach the idea of him boasting of his status, his knightdom handpicked by the king of Hyrule himself and (to her dismay) blessed by her.

That was Revali’s job, after all.

This Link was surely going to be the bigger grievance than Calamity Ganon at this point.

The knight was persistent, she’ll give him that.

She knew her father didn’t take too kindly to her inquisitive nature. That must have been part of the reason why he assigned the knight to her side; to discourage her from conducting her research. That didn’t stop the princess, not while a threat was looming right at their doorstep.

Zelda was resourceful. Many a time, she’d given him the slip, off to Purah’s lab to continue their research of the Sheikah technology. Discovering the mysteries of the Sheikah Slate, learning more of the robots and such, it made her giddy as a child. She’d excitedly arrive at the lab…

…Only to find him. Having tea with the 6-year-old Sheikah, no less.

He said nothing, allowing his “innocent” smile and ignorant casualness to speak for him. She must have been getting predictable.

Zelda was starting to think that her father was torturing her.

Li-…The Knight was no slouch in combat.

For one who lacked in size, he made up for in skill. Zelda watched as the boy overpowered two of the castle’s royal guard. For a sparring match, neither of the two were able to make a scratch. Zelda couldn’t tell if this was saying something for the castle’s guards as a whole. She watched as the boy wielded that sword with deadly accuracy. He was going easy on them.

Zelda scolded herself for concerning herself with the boy. He was her knight and nothing less.

Zelda didn’t expect him to be so…compliant with her research.

Since the boy had persisted in accompanying her wherever she went, Zelda decided to make the most out of it, testing some of her more…outlandish theories.

She expected him to decline, better yet, leave her to her own devices but the knight surprised her. Wordlessly as always, he’d sit with her and listen to her prattle on about the properties of monster parts and the sciences of wild animals. She even somehow got him to taste a frog of all things!

Yet, Zelda felt…something, a feeling inexplicable even to her, when he remained with her

Another lecture from Father about “The duties of the Princess”.

Had it never occurred to him that finding ways to improve the castle’s guards was something that should be considered one of her duties? Why was she the only one who saw the importance in using Elixirs? Now she was down another book on recipes.

Her knight stopped by her room, no doubt sent by the King to ensure that she sulks in safety. Though he seemed to be grinning wider than usual. It took Zelda a moment before she realized that the boy had indeed had a present for her.

Zelda couldn’t believe her eyes as he’d brought her the very same book. Did he sneak past the Sheikah guards just to get it? He offered her the book with a smile, watching her face light up. Zelda hatched an idea. She sat the boy down next to her, moving to the shelves and cupboards of her room to reveal an assortment of glasses with multicolored liquids. Zelda excitedly swiped the book from his hands.

“Now then, Knig-er…Link, elixirs have the potential to turn the tide in any battle. Here’s what you should know…”

“Clock’s ticking, princess.”

“Yes, I know. These divine beasts are proving to be much harder to control than I-”

Urbosa chuckled, leaving Zelda to gaze at her in confusion. “Not what I meant, Zel.” From their perch atop Naboris, the Gerudo warrior pointed at the tiny speck of a warrior just below them, traversing the desert sands in nonchalance.

Zelda knew exactly what Urbosa was alluding to but she stubbornly feigned ignorance.

She shot her a knowing smile. “I see you’ve started warming up to him.”

“Well…” she stuttered, looking away from Urbosa who saw straight through her. “He’s…proven himself.”

“Mhmm?” the Gerudo rested her head on her arm. She decided not to comment on the fact that Zelda was now blatantly staring at Link.

The princess crossed her arms. “I-I don’t know what you could possibly be referring to.”

Urbosa’s smile grew wider. “Take it from a Gerudo. With a prize like that, I wouldn’t wait around.” she didn’t wait for the princess to respond, giving her a sly wink and leaving Zelda to her intrusive thoughts.

She was a princess! She had no time to spend on such frivolities as courtship! Not while a great evil was just at their doorstep. Besides, Link of all people? That seemed incredulous at best. He probably wouldn’t feel the same way.

Would he?

Zelda shuddered.

She was unsure if that was due to anticipation or anxiety. All of her hopes, prayers, and studies lead to this singular moment.

The path she stood before them lead up to Mount Lanayru. The Spring of Wisdom, Zelda’s last chance of awakening her true potential, was waiting for her. Today was the day of her awakening, yet…

She couldn’t move.

Her body tensed, hearing the disapproving voice of her father, the whispers of the knights and residents from the castle, all those who told her that her motivations were naught but a fantasy. Her legs refused to move and her stomach churned.

However, one force managed to repel those fears.

The reassuring touch of her knight dissipated all of Zelda’s worries. One look towards Link’s smile and Zelda no longer felt alone.

“I’m alright,” she said, returning his smile, “I think I’m ready now.”

Link nodded as they began their trek up the mountain.

The rain was heavy.

The smell of fire and ash burned her lungs.

Her eyes were momentarily blinded by crimson before hearing the beeping targeting system native to the Guardians. Zelda watched in horror as Link, weakened and injured was caught in its sights.

Link, who devoted himself to her well-being, even when she pushed him away.

Link, who willfully allowed himself to be a guinea pig for her outlandish experiments.

Link, who stood by her through her best and her worst.

Zelda didn’t hesitate. She was not about to lose him.

Not like this.

In moments, all she saw was white, a glowing symbol formed at the back of her palm and all the autonomous threats were destroyed.

Zelda could hear Link behind her, groaning weakly before collapsing. She turned to him, mortified as he writhed in pain. She ran to his side, assuring him that he was going to be fine. She didn’t know if she was trying to convince him or herself.

They had all come so far. They had prepared for all of this. How did it all go wrong?

How?

He was her knight.

The one to bring peace to Hyrule.

Zelda would be damned if she was about to let him slip through her fingers.

The other heroes were out there, using their divine beasts to push back Ganon’s corruption. That was all they can do and it was all they needed to do. To delay Ganon’s evil, buy Link more time and ensure that he recovers.

Zelda needed to see him. Just one last time.

He was asleep in his pod, his wounds deep but healing, ever so slowly. He looked…peaceful. The last she seen of him, Link was battered and beaten, trying to speak but his injuries getting the better of him, slipping into unconsciousness. The nightmarish memory was still fresh in her mind. Tears streamed from her face.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

All the preparation, all the training, and for what? Their weapons turned on them, her castle was now the enemy’s fortress and the hero that was meant to end it all was defeated.

No.

Not defeated.

Not yet.

Zelda looked to her right hand, still glowing with the symbol of the Triforce, the power she used to give the kingdom one last chance, to give him one last chance. She knew what had to be done.

One last look to her knight. Her hand brushed along his warm face.

Wait for me, Link.

anonymous asked:

Fremione! "I can't believe you talked me into this"

Everything was ready. The plan was flawless and they’d been going over it for weeks. Today was the day, today it was finally going to happen.

And then, hopefully, George would shut his big fat mouth.

Fred’s face couldn’t help but contort into a blissful grin as he envisioned a future where his brother and Angelina finally got together, meaning that Fred finally got to go ten seconds without hearing his twin talking about how amazing Angelina was or having him ask Fred if he too had noticed the confidence she carried now as their team captain.

Ugh …

Instead, Fred held out hope that the two of them getting together would mean less talk and more snog, strange as that might sound. But if it was for the greater good! Even Lee, who never shied away from expressing admiration for any lady, was growing tired of the rambles of a lovesick idiot.

It was near Christmas and mistletoes existed in abundance, but the one Fred had designed was engineered to nail down anyone who stepped underneath and wouldn’t let go until they’d kissed properly—as in none of that friendly peck on the cheeks nonsense. There would be no room for misinterpretation. All that remained was for Lee to steer the lovebirds to stand beneath the archway on the fourth floor. It was secluded and quite romantic with its view of the snow-covered grounds and the looming sunset. It was the perfect setting for his plan …

“Fred?”

Fred startled, flying up from his crouched position where he’d been peeking around the corner to where the archway was, and turned around meeting Hermione Granger’s suspicious gaze. She raised an eyebrow. “What are you up to?”

Recovering from the surprise, Fred plastered on the most innocent smile available in his repertoire. “Hermione,” he said, “good evening.”

She wasn’t fooled and crossed her arms, making her robes move and call attention to the shining Prefect badge on her chest. “What are you up to?”

“I—“ There was a tingling sensation and Fred stopped in horror. He looked to the side, with Hermione following his move, and as he’d predicted, there was his brother. But he wasn’t alone.

“Angelina?” Hermione’s frown from before let up and was replaced with a look of surprise. “I thought you were on your way to the Quidditch pitch?”

Angelina grimaced. Fred could hear the gears in Hermione’s brain working next to him, attempting to discern the cause of Angelina’s guilt-ridden face.

Fred addressed his brother, “George, tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.”

George—who unlike Angelina bore no signs of feeling bad—smirked. “I did nothing that you hadn’t already planned on doing to me, Freddie.”

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” grumbled Angelina as the twins were fighting a battle with their eyes. “I’m so sorry, Hermione.”

Hermione’s eyes bulged. “What? What is happening, Angelina? Why can’t I move?”

Fred broke away from glaring at his brother and pointed up, sighing, “Mistletoe.”

Hermione groaned. “Merlin …”

“Now, we’re merciful enough to not gather you an audience, but hopefully this’ll remind you to not meddle,” said George, catching Fred’s attention again.

“Meddle?”

Fred ignored Hermione’s questioning eyes, knowing that she wanted to know how much he was to blame for their situation. He instead busied himself shouting obscenities at his brother, who did nothing but wave unconcernedly whilst walking away, Angelina trailing behind him and sending a last ‘sorry’ Hermione’s way.  

Once they were around the corner and out of sight, Fred stopped his shouting but continued cursing his twin in his mind. If they had the connection everyone always claimed they had, then George would be hearing him loud and clear.

“What do we do now?” Hermione asked after a moment of silence.

“There’s nothing to do,” admitted Fred, facing her at last. “This thing isn’t going to let up until we’ve done as told.”

“I can’t believe someone with your genius didn’t build in a failsafe.”

“Failsafe?” asked Fred, hint of a smile growing wider, “And excuse me, did you say genius?”

Hermione ignored him, “Failsafe, as in a code word in case you wanted to abort the mission.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know—perhaps for situations like this one!”

Fred grinned, “You know, we could really use brains like yours developing products.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, which did nothing to hide the fact that the flattery had got to her, “This is not the time to try and recruit me. Honestly, what are we going to do?”

Fred took some time to think, going over the various precautions he’d taken to ensure that whoever ended up beneath the mistletoe wouldn’t be able to get out. There really was nothing else to do but … He swallowed at the thought. This was not how he’d imagined this would go. He’d built up this image of what he was going to do for so long now that the fact that reality had caught up with him made him question everything. Surely, Hermione couldn’t be looking at him with those gorgeous and clever brown eyes of hers, asking him for a solution. Surely, she wasn’t standing so close that he could feel the warmth of her against his front (he forgot that this was because of the gravitation spell he’d cast on the mistletoe) and that he could count the freckles on her nose that were infinitely fewer than his. Surely, she wasn’t there for him to kiss. It was insane. It was preposterous. But somehow, it was reality.

Hermione spoke then, her eyes taking on an amused glint, “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you speechless.”

Fred couldn’t help it, he chuckled. “You do have that effect on me.” He summoned some courage and willed his hand to move a lock of hair behind her ear.

To his delight, a furious blush appeared on the witch’s face. “I …erm, that is …”

“Look,” said Fred, “there really only is one way to get away from this mistletoe and …I’m  afraid that—“

“Fred, I’d rather give you a small kiss than stand here any longer, so perhaps we should just get it over with.” Hermione’s face remained red, but she looked determined. Fred felt sorry as soon as he told her it wouldn’t be that easy, and watched her determination faltered.

“Bloody hell, I need to build one of those failsafes next time.”

Hermione bit her lip and nodded in agreement. “All right, we should …we should just go ahead. And do it. I mean, do the kissing. That.”

Fred let out a long breath. “All right. Try to not fall in love with me after this, Granger,” he added with a wink to cover up how nervous he was.

To his surprise this made Hermione’s eyes widen in horror. Something inside Fred stirred at the look. “Granger?” he asked. “…Hermione?”

“I …” Hermione avoided looking at him now. She shook her head. “Nevermind, it’s nothing. Let’s just do this and you can leave to do your pranks.”

Something wasn’t quite right, but before Fred could ask what was wrong, Hermione had grabbed him by his tie and crushed her lips against him.

At first, there was surprise. Then, amazement at the feel of her soft mouth caressing his and the way her body molded itself against him, making him clutch her tighter at the waist with one hand and tangling into her hair with the other. And after that, Fred’s sense made a slow return and he noticed the desperation emanating from the girl he was kissing. The only girl he’d wanted to kiss for months now. But somehow, he didn’t think she knew that. So he made sure she knew.

Hermione made a startled noise as his kiss deepened, but he could feel confusion gradually replace the emotions from before. After a while, the two of them broke apart gasping for air and Hermione’s eyes searched frantically over his face.

“Fred,” she asked, her eyebrows pulling close together, “are you …?”

“Yes,” he said, determined to meet her uncertain gaze as steadily as he could. “For a long time now.”

“Bloody hell,” she breathed. And then she pulled him close again, neither of them noticing that the mistletoe above them had burst into colours before disappearing.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

“It’s worse than I imagined,” Lee groaned, watching Fred and Hermione. He righted himself and looked back at Angelina and George standing next to him behind the wall. “But hopefully this’ll put a stop to his ramblings, the lovesick idiot that he is.”

I totally blame this spiral on @agentsassydirewolf, because we were discussing how Felicity’s hood looks green. Meaning it might possibly have either been Oliver’s or in tribute to him after he died. Then we started discussing Felicity’s amazing moves and speculating whether Oliver may have trained her in the Doomworld. 

Oliver hates Felicity ever being in danger, and he probably would’ve put up a fight about her going into the field. But she would’ve told him that it was her life and her choice, so he could either help her or not. Oliver, knowing he’s the only one who can truly prepare her for what she’ll face out there, reluctantly (and grumpily) agrees to training.

One day, Felicity shows up in the lair with a full suit and mask. Oliver is totally speechless. His eyes rake her over, a mixture of pride and absolute fear, because now the reality is setting in that she’s going to do it. She’s going to head out into the field with him and be on the front lines of danger.

As a joke, since Oliver loves to grumble his protests under his breath, Felicity coaxes him into taking a selfie in their masks. She strikes her best badass Overwatch stare while Oliver remains straight-faced. Felicity tells him to lighten up, and he tells her that vigilantes aren’t supposed to smile. The bad guys should be expecting a fight not a hug. That makes her grin even wider before finally getting serious. She settles for a mysterious smirk as she takes their picture.

Afterward, Felicity kisses his cheek and promises that she’ll be fine. She’ll hold her own, because it was Oliver who trained her and he’s the best. What Felicity didn’t realize at the time and soon learns is that she needed to be just as worried about Oliver as she did herself. Her confidence in his abilities is why she was utterly terrified and devastated when Darhk kicked him off of the rooftop just as he ripped off her love’s mask.

Felicity couldn’t get to Oliver fast enough and finds him on the ground in the alley. He was able to shoot a cable arrow to prevent a straight fall, but there is still blood pooling around him on the pavement. It’s then that Felicity sees the knife sticking out from his side. Darhk managed to pierce Oliver’s armor and deliver a deadly blow.

She pleads with Oliver to hold on. She’ll call Diggle, and he’ll get help. He has medical training and can patch Oliver up in no time. But Oliver knows better. He forces a smile. For her. Then he tells Felicity that she’s the most beautiful, stubborn, badass woman on the planet and he loves her all the more for it. He tells her to be safe. With tears streaming down her face, Felicity proclaims that she loves him too and not to leave her. Oliver takes his last breath against her lips, and then he’s gone.

It would’ve been easy to give in to the pain and grief after such a devastating loss, but Felicity doesn’t. Her resolve to take down Darhk and his Legion of Doom is stronger than ever. To stop fighting would be dishonoring the memory and legacy of the man she loved. She had his hood added to her suit so that a part of him would always be with her. The photo she’d taken a whim, though crumpled and torn from looking at it so much, remains in her pocket every night. If she doesn’t carry it, it’s almost like their time together didn’t happen and she needs that reminder as the time passes. It stayed with her longer than even Diggle, who was violently and tragically taken from her too. 

That photo was with her the day she died. Felicity placed her hand over her pocket as she faced the man who’d taken almost everything from her. She fought back until the bitter end knowing that when she saw Oliver again, he would be proud of her. Nothing less would be acceptable in any world she lived in.

A Tent Under The Stars 🌍✨

After Will was released from hospital, Joyce innocently assumed that gradually, things would go back to normal. She would arise to the sweet smell of pancakes and eggs being made by Jonathan. She would admire Will’s latest drawings, and help him to come up with a backstory for each and every creature he drew. She thought things would go back to normalcy, but she couldn’t have been more wrong.

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Shoe Deduction - Request

Requested by @kentuckyfriedcarlos:  Hello! Wondering if you could write a fanfic about Sherlock asking reader to deduce something and her being uncomfortable and unsure but he insists she tries and he is sweet about it? Thank you so much! 💚

Pairing: Sherlock x reader.

Word count: 907(Shortie)

Warnings: Un-edited.

A/N: I don’t know if this is sweet enough to fulfill the request, but it made me really happy to write it so…

Enjoy!

Originally posted by whenisayrunrun

Sherlock stared at the object for longer than anyone was used to. He barely blinked, and his face remained neutral as his mind wandered to every last bit of information it kept looking desperately for an answer.

(Y/N) was sitting at the opposite side of the table, analysing him. She was quiet, as usual, and she tried with all her might to keep her breath steady so Sherlock wouldn’t kick her out.

“I’m missing something…” Sherlock muttered and looked up at her.

“Maybe this isn’t a clue at all.” She suggested quietly.

“No, no.” Sherlock shook his head, “This is a clue, I just… There’s a whole; something I’m not seeing.”

“Maybe you should rest.” She whispered.

“No…” Sherlock replied absentmindedly, “I need John to help me.”

“John’s at his honey moon, remember?” Sherlock sighed heavily.

Honey moon.” He mocked bitterly, “What a bunch of crap, there are loads of criminals all over London and he prefers to go on holiday rather than…”

“With his wife.” (Y/N) interrupted, “He went on holiday with his wife.”

“Right…” Sherlock leaned back on his chair and looked around as if that would help him get to the desired result.

He needed someone smart to help him. Of course, no one had a mind such as himself but it truly helped him when someone else gave him their opinions. Without mentioning the fact that he was still missing something important, which could be something obvious to the eyes of a common citizen and that increased his need for someone else’s help.

His icy blue eyes landed on the girl sitting across from him. Her whole appearance was tidy and neat, with her hair perfectly combed and natural makeup. The clothes of a real lady, which she liked to wear during cases because it gave her more of a professional look. Sherlock tilted his head as an idea invaded his mind.

“(Y/N).” He spoke. The girl looked up at him. She had been playing with her phone.

“Sherlock.” She replied, the detective smiled slightly.

“Could you make a deduction for me?” Her posture instantly stiffened and her eyes became wider.

“M-me?” She stuttered, pointing at herself like there were a million other (Y/N)s in that room.

“Yes, you.” Sherlock stated softly.

“I don’t think I can be of much use to you, Sher.” She said.

“No,” He assured, “I actually need someone else’s opinion and you’re smart enough to do it.”

“I thought we were all idiot compared to you.” (Y/N) muttered.

“You are all idiot compared to me.” Sherlock stated, “But out of all of the idiots, you’re the less idiotic.”

(Y/N) smirked at his words. “A compliment worthy of Sherlock Holmes.” She joked.

Sherlock gave her a wide grin before going back to his serious face. “So?” He gestured at the object. (Y/N) sighed heavily and hesitated a little before she stood up and walked to his side.

Sherlock moved a little so (Y/N) had a better, more direct view of the object. The girl leaned down on the table to observe.

Shoe. It was just one shoe, the left one. High-heels, to be specific, and very tall and big ones.

“It’s uh… It’s quite a big foot for a lady.” She stuttered, “Unless she’s six feet tall, I’d say she’s actually a man.” Sherlock furrowed at her words but didn’t interrupt. “They are also quite unused so I’m guessing they’re new, although there’s…” She lifted the shoe to look at the sole, “Yup, there’s glitter there, see?” Sherlock nodded, “There are bars… Gay bars, that have glitter all over.”

“The victim was found nearby one of those bars.” Sherlock whispered and then looked up at her. “What else?”

“That’s all, I’ve got nothing more.” She confessed shyly. Sherlock nodded once more and took the shoe off her hands, returning it to its past position. (Y/N) searched for his gaze, and Sherlock noticed which resulted in a silent question from him. “Did I do right?” She asked.

Sherlock relaxed at her words. “Well, you skipped a lot of important data…” (Y/N) face fell, and Sherlock instantly changed his voice tone to a softer one, “But it was, in a way, brilliant.”

“Brilliant impersonation of an idiot?” She inquired.

“No, not at all.” Sherlock shook his head, “I thought it was a huge woman…” He confessed.

(Y/N) giggled shyly. “Maybe she is a huge woman and I am an idiot.”

It was Sherlock’s turn to laugh. “There are no registers of a woman this tall… Not in London, at least.” He said. Suddenly, his gaze changed into a different one; one that (Y/N) hadn’t ever seen on him. “You did wonderfully, dear.”

“You really think so?” (Y/N) inquired.

“Yes, I do.” Sherlock extended a hand to caress her cheek for two seconds before going back to minding his own business. “I’ll be downstairs.”

“Oh, okay.” (Y/N) whispered as Sherlock walked and disappeared through the door. “I’ll just wait here, then.”

A few seconds of silence passed, and suddenly Sherlock’s face appeared again. “You can come.” He said.

“Me?” Again, she pointed at herself.

“Yes, you.” Sherlock insisted, “I wouldn’t be able to finish this case without you, dear.” He winked at her before disappearing once more. “Bring the shoe!”

(Y/N) bit her lip happily and took the shoe before running downstairs. It was the first time Sherlock asked for her help on a case, and it wouldn’t be the last time.

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Wrote a thing. A short(ish), fluffy thing, featuring Clark, Kara, and Alex, inspired by this. (As always, hoping that I’m not stepping on anybody’s toes or anything.)

“She blew out her powers,” Clark explains. His voice cracks, and Jeremiah isn’t sure if it’s from worry or simply due to the boy’s age. “I didn’t even know we could do that.”

“Tell him—tell him what you named it,” Kara wheezes, forcing a smile to her face. It’s strained.

Clark doesn’t say anything right away, looking at his cousin with wide, concerned eyes. He’s never seen her look weak. Or tired. Or hurt.

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Just Thought I’d Check in on My Beloved - Pt 5

“Oh, Rosaline, look at how beautiful!” Livia called as she fawned over a dress hanging from a shop in the market.  Benvolio chuckled, eyes turning to the lady on his arm.  He ducked his head towards hers so that he could bury his nose in her hair and whisper into her ear.  His hand settled at the small of her back, and an easy grin crossed his lips as she gave a slight shiver.

The easy affection in public was still new to the couple, and Rosaline could scarcely believe that it was real.  Some days, this particular one included, maintaining respectful distance while in the company of others was quite a challenge.  Her fiance was not one to help such matters, generous with his touch and flirtation as he’d become since the day they’d realized the depths of their feelings for one another.  She’d never allowed herself to dream that such love could belong to her…and yet.  “Go, my love, get her a beautiful dress for the ceremony.  Find something lovely for yourself.  I’ll handle the business for my uncle and then return to you.”  He tucked a coin purse into her hand, and pressed a kiss to her temple.  

Before he could step away, though, Rosaline curled her fingers around the back of his neck and tugged him down for a lingering kiss.  “Be quick, Montague, lest we spend all your money.”

“All that I possess belongs to you, Capulet.”  With a charming wink, he was gone.

“Rose, on with it, sister! He’s round the corner, you needn’t stare after him any longer,” Livia teased.  Cheeks burning, Rosaline hurried to catch up with her younger sister, and fawned over the lovely dress in her hands.

“Oh, Liv, this is perfect!”  She held it up to Livia’s shoulders and nodded.  “How much, sir?”  She glanced over to the shopkeeper, ignoring her sister’s surprised protest as she handed him the proper payment.

“Rosaline I cannot accept such a gift!”

“‘Tis not from me, and yes, you most certainly can.  You deserve to be spoiled from time to time, and I’ll not complain if my fiance sees fit to be one of the men to see it done.”  Truthfully, it was one of the many things that seemed to make her fall more in love with Benvolio; he’d never hesitated to include Livia into their family, their plans for the future.  His loyalty to Rosaline meant loyalty to her sister, and Rosaline knew without a doubt that Livia would be well cared for.  She gathered the dress, now properly covered, into her arms before offering it to her sister.  “Oh, thank you! Now, what about you?”

Glancing around, Rosaline spotted a little shop selling jewelry and trinkets.  “I have yet to find the perfect necklace to wear for the wedding ceremony.  Will you help me?”  Livia grinned and nodded, practically dancing across the market in her excitement.  

“Lady Rosaline, a moment?”

Keep reading

Diner AU

James had been working in the diner for four months, sixteen days and fourteen hours. But he wasn’t counting.

It was only supposed to be a Christmas job. He was only supposed to work there for six weeks, and by the end of that he would have heard back from all of the newspapers he’d applied for, and he’d get to pick where he wanted to start his career in sports journalism.

He wasn’t sure which paper he’d pick when they all got back to him. He’d debated it a lot in those first four weeks as he served every cheesburger, and refreshed every coke or coffee. Sports Now! was in the better location - he wouldn’t have to leave the flat he loved and shared with his best friend Sirius, but Sports Today! had a much better reputation.

But he needn’t have worried - the decision was made for him when he didn’t hear a word from any of them, and so he had signed a new (non-seasonal) contract with the diner so he could keep paying his share of the bills.

It wasn’t a bad diner. The pay was somewhat better than average, and he got free food to take home at the end of every shift - which he usually devoured with Sirius over a game of Fifa. But it wasn’t his dream, and with every passing mug of tea and side of fries, he felt his life passing him by, like he was sleep walking through the best years of it.

But on that day (17 days into month five) everything changed.

The bells above the door chimed as another customer walked in, and James groaned; the sound announcing the end of his break. James tore his eyes away from the rugby match on the TV behind the bar to see who he needed to serve now.

He felt his heart skip a beat as soon as he caught sight of her long red hair. It couldn’t be…he thought instantly. She moved away. Don’t be stupid. It’s not her.

But it was.

Lily Evans.

He hadn’t seen her for four years. Not since the last day of sixth form when he was eighteen years old and they had found themselves at the same End of Year party…

SIrius had thrown the party, of course. He had moved in with James and his parents by that point, but he still had the key to his parents’ place, and knew they were out of town. He wanted to piss them off, and what better way to do that then to allow sixty teenagers loose amongst all their antiques?

James didn’t know that his best friend had invited her.

They had spent a lot of time together as Head Girl and Boy that year, but she still made him ridiculously nervous. Every time he came near her he found his hands suddenly shaking slightly, and his filter disapeared as he rambled on and on about his last rugby match, or prank he’d played with his friends. She unnerved him in a way no one else could, but he’d never got the impression she felt the same way about him.

That night he’d found himself alone in Regulus’ (Sirius’ younger brother) bedroom with her, talking about how scary it felt to be leaving school and moving away. She was going to Edinburgh to get a degree in Chemistry and then her teaching qualification, and he was going to Loughborough to study Media and play rugby.

They’d talked for over an hour and the six shots James had done beforehand had helped him finally be able to talk to her normally. There had even been a moment - right before Peter walked in and ruined it - when he thought he could kiss her. But that moment was ruined by Peter throwing up in the doorway, and after that Lily had realised she needed to go home, and he didn’t see her again before she left to go interrailing with her friends.

James felt himself panic and fought against the urge to run into the backroom and call Siriuis for back up.

She’s just a girl, James, he told himself sternly. You’ve dated half a dozen people since the last time you saw her! You get super liked on Tinder pretty regularly, and you get a number on a napkin at least once a week. You’re hot stuff! A smooth operator, as Sirius would say! You can handle Lily Evans!

James straightened up, ran his hands through his hair quickly, and headed over to the booth Lily had sat herslef down in. She had come alone, he realised as he approached, and was already engrossed in a book.

He cleared his throat as he reached her and tried to look cool as he waited for her to turn around.

Her eyes widened in recognition as soon as she did.

“James Potter?” she asked instantly.

James nodded. “All right, Evans?”

Lily stared at him, mouth slightly agape in surprise. She seemed to be lost for words and he wasn’t sure he could be much help.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” she said after a while.

“I didn’t know you were back in town,” he replied.

She shrugged. “Couldn’t find anywhere that quite measured up to this place. Always seemed to be missing something.”

James nodded, trying to take in what she was saying and not focus on the line of freckles across her nose and blushing cheeks. “So you moved back here with your husband then?”

Lily laughed and James felt his stomach flip at the instantly familiar sound he didn’t know he’d been craving for so long. “No husband.” She flashed her bare ring finger at him. “I’m only 22 remember.”

James shrugged. “Some people get married young. Depends when you meet the right person, I guess.”

“I saw something last week that said most people have met the person they marry before they turn 21,” she told him. “That’s prettty unbelievable right?”

“Yeah,” James said, even though his mind was screaming “no” as he looked at her smiling up at him. He ran his fingers through his mop of black hair again and smiled back at her.

“So how long are you back for?” he asked.

“Haven’t decided yet,” Lily answered. “Depends what happens, I guess. I’m moving in with this girl Marlene, and I’ve got a job interview at the school tomorrow morning, so maybe a while.”

James tried to keep his smile under control as it fought to grow wider than he thought possible. “Cool,” he said after a moment, not trusting himself to try and say anything more substantial than that.

They were both silent for a moment, just staring at each other, taking in the changes that had taken place in four years apart. Lily looked healthier - like she spent less time in the library and more travelling to warmer weather. Her hair was longer and her face more mature at 22 than it was at 18. James was a bit more muscular after three years playing varsity rugby, and there was a light stubble on his face that hadn’t been possible at 18. His glasses were the same thoguh, and so were her piercing green eyes that met his now, making his head feel foggy and his stomach flip.

“Are you ready to order?” he asked, trying to regain his composure.

Lily laughed lightly. “You haven’t given me a menu yet, Potter.”

James blushed. “Right…er..hang on…”

James rushed away, quickly grabbing a menu from the pile and running it back to Lily, cursing himself the entire way for forgetting to bring it earlier.

“There you go,” he said, passing it over to her.

She skimmed it quickly. “Any recommendations?”

“Nah, it’s all a bit shite to be honest,” he answered honestly. “Avoid the tuna melt unless you enjoy seeing your food twice.”

Lily laughed. “Just some fries then, please. And a diet coke.”

“Coming right up,” James smiled. He was just walking away when Lily grabbed his arm.

“You don’t have a break coming up, do you?” she asked, and he would swear he could hear a hint of nervousness in her voice. “It’d be great to catch up properly.”

James felt his heart flutter. He cleared his throat, ran his fingers through his hair, tried to look cool. Failed miserably.

“Yeah..uh..yeah,” he said. “Hang on a sec?”

Lily nodded, and he smiled at her before walking back into the kitchen. He found his boss, Will, sitting at his desk on his laptop.

“Will,” he said brightly. “I need to take my break now.”

“Not now, James,” Will told him, without looking up. “You’ve already had a break anyway, and I need you for the lunch rush.”

“I can’t,” James told him simply.

Will looked up then, clearly annoyed. “And why not?”

“Because the girl I was in love with all through high school just walked in and she wants me to talk to her,” James explained matter-of-factly.

“Too bad, Romeo,” WIll said. “I can’t give you another break now. Love will have to wait. Get back to work.”

James thought for a nano-second. “Nope. No, I won’t.” he declared. “I quit.”

“You can’t be serious?” Will scoffed.

“I quit,” James repeated. “Oh, and you should tell someone else there’s an order of fries and a diet coke to table fourteen…Actually, make that two.”

James grinned, before turning and walking through the kitchen door, leaving his boss speechless behind him.

He walked purposefully over to Lily’s booth and dived in opposite her. He grinned at her brightly, his smile growing impossibly wider when she smiled back.

“So,” he said, “where were we?”

Exes and “Oh Did I Mention I’m Bi?”

Pairing: Rob Benedict x bi!Reader

Request: “I was thinking: Rob doesn’t know that Reader is bi, because she forgot to tell him and never really had the occasion, and one night they are out having drinks (with the gang or not, do what you feel like), and she freaks out because her ex is here. He’s trying to see which guy it is, but she points her ex out and it turns out to be a woman? And the whole “whoops I didn’t tell you… are you mad?” conversation with maybe a tiny hint of possessive Robbie on the side if you feel like it.” Thank you, @rewritetheendingoftheplay for this! I’m sorry for the long wait but I hope it’s worth it! Also, check out her Rob-fics, they are the BEST.

Warnings: asshole ‘exes’, swearing…

Originally posted by madame-marilyn

(completely unrelated but he cute)

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Alternate ending + Dazai died along with odasaku according to Mori's plan

((THIS GOT OUT OF HAND, I’M SORRY, MORE UNDER THE CUT!!)

“Mori thinks i’m going to usurp him,” Dazai says out of the blue one night, after chasing half a bottle of wine with a pack of cigarette in some dingy bar they’d stumbled into after finishing up a mission. Chuuya’s first instinct is to laugh, so he does. Dazai joins in, but there’s a lilt to his head and a crease between his brows when Chuuya tells him just how stupid that sounds.

It doesn’t sound stupid at all now, staring down at a quickly cooling cup of tea that Kouyou had set before him with words of condolences that Chuuya has never once moved to touch.

Keep reading

“Pregnancy”  ~  Draco x reader

“Can u do another imagine where it is post war and the reader is pregnant with Draco’s baby and they tell his parents but then she gets sad afterwards bc her dad (Snape) died and she can’t tell him and draco comforts her?” ~Anon

The feels. So many feels! 

Thank you soooo much for the request!! I’m sorry that it took me forever to post. I’m so behind on these requests, and my returning write’s block isn’t helping. Haha! Anyway, I loved writing this! I love Snape and Draco so much! I hope you enjoy!😘😊💕

  • y/n - your name
  • y/f/b - your favorite breakfast

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n woke up to the smell of her favorite breakfast. She rubbed her eyes as Draco walked in with a plate fixed for her on a tray.

“Good morning, Love.” he whispered, sitting down beside her. Brushing the hair out of her eyes, he smiled. “I made your favorite: y/f/b.”

She giggled. “Thank you, sweetie. You’re so thoughtful!”

“Ready for today?”

She took a bite of food and nodded slowly.

Draco gave her a warm, reassuring smile. “I know you’re nervous.” He kissed her forehead before getting up. “I am, too.”

After eating, y/n got up out of bed and picked out an outfit, with the help of her husband, of course. She brushed her teeth, fixed her hair, and applied a bit of make up. The two of them left for the Malfoy Manor soon after.

Draco raised an eyebrow at y/n as they were walking up the steps of his parents home. “Should you be wearing those shoes?” he asked.

“Draco. Dearest.” she smirked. “It’ll be fine. Besides, I’m not that far along yet.”

They knocked on the doors of the mansion. Like every time y/n had visited, Narcissa answered the knocking. She smiled as she hugged her son and daughter-in-law.

“It’s been too long.” she stated. “I thought you were never going to return to see your dear mum.”

Draco chuckled at her joke. “I’m glad to see you, too.”

She turned to y/n. “And, y/n, darling. it’s always such a delight to see my favorite daughter-in-law.”

Y/n knew she was the only one Narcissa would ever have, but it was a great compliment to her. Her hormonal stage was coming earlier than expected.

Narcissa led the two inside. “Lunch is almost ready. Draco? Why don’t you and y/n set the table. You know your father won’t.”

“Certainly.”

Draco and y/n headed to the dining room. Memories flooded through her mind as she placed silverware and plates on the decorated dining table: meeting Draco’s parents, the time she snuck out to see him, Christmas dinners, their engagement announcement, the many other times she’d been over… She started to tear up.

Draco walked over to her. “Are you alright?”

She nodded with a grin, wiping her eyes. “Yeah. Just remembering all the times we’ve had to set the table.”

“Quite a lot to remember.” he joked. He wrapped his arms around her, her head laying on his chest.

The food was brought to the table and the family took a seat, Lucius taking his end seat as normal.

“Y/n.” he began. “How lovely to see you. How have things been.”

Y/n grinned. “Wonderful. Just… wonderful.”

“Good.”

Draco swallowed. “We’ve been having a bit of an adventure lately.”

Narcissa was interested. “Really?”

With a deep breath and a smile, y/n nodded. “Yeah. It’s been quite a whirlwind.”

“Well, let us hear it.” Lucius spoke.

The two looked at each other, waiting for the other one to speak. Y/n bit her lip with a nervous grin.

Draco was nervous as well. “Well… umm…” He dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

“Why do you have that?” Y/n asked, giggling a bit.

“How else am I supposed to keep this picture with me forever?” He handed the picture to his mother face down.

A questioning expression formed on her face. “What this?”

Lucius leaned in to get a better view of the picture his wife was holding. Their eyes grew wider the longer they examined it.

Narcissa stuttered. “Is this… Y/n… Are you…”

Still biting her lip, she nodded. Draco slipped his hand into hers.

Draco’s mother squealed with delight, tears forming in her eyes.

“Congratulations to the both of you.” his father said calmly. “Y/n, your father would be proud.”

During the whole time of her pregnancy, y/n hadn’t thought of her father once. She smiled at Lucius, a little less happy than before. Thoughts ran through her mind: the classes her father taught, the times he’d cheered her up after Harry and Ron made fun of her, him approving of Draco when she told him they were dating. She missed him. She couldn’t stand it.

Y/n kept smiling through it. It was hard, but somehow, she manage to. “Excuse me for a moment.” She stood up and left the room.

Narcissa was concerned. “Is she alright?”

“I’m sure she is.” he replied, getting up from his seat. “Just early mood swings.”

Draco knew exactly where she had gone. Running up the stairs and down the hall, he found her sitting on his bed in ugly tears. He shut the door and rushed to her side.

She sobbed as he pulled her close, rubbing her back in spirals. He was worried. “Shh… It’s alright, sweetheart. Shh…”

Y/n kept crying. It was hard for her to stop.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“I just miss my daddy!” she wailed.

The sound of her cries broke his heart. He couldn’t stand to see her like this.

“Oh, y/n.”

She placed her head against his chest and kept bawling. “Our baby will never know their own grandfather! I don’t get to tell him about any of this!”

Draco raised her chin up, giving her a tender smile. “What are you talking about? Our baby will know everything about him.”

“How, Draco? He’s dead!”

He wiped the tears from her cheeks. “You’re father was one of the bravest, most considerate people I knew. Don’t you think for one second that I’m not going to be telling stories about his greatness.”

“But, I don’t get to tel-”

Keeping that loving expression, he interrupted her. “Of course you will.”

Y/n grew confused.

“We’ll visit him tomorrow, after you get your rest.”

She smiled slightly at her husband as he continues to stroke her cheek.

“Now,” he continued, “let’s go back downstairs and finish lunch, and then we can take a nap. Does that sound good to you?”

She nodded.

Draco gave her a kiss before getting up from his old bed. He held out his hand for y/n to take, which she did, and they headed back to the dining room to finish their meal.

Just before they reached the stairs, they stopped. Draco opened his mouth to speak.

“What is it?” y/n softly, a but concerned.

He wrapped his arms around her once more. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They finally took their seats at the table, Narcissa still worried about y/n.

“Is everything alright, dear?”

Y/n nodded. “I’m fine, thank you. I was just overwhelmed with everything that’s going on.”

“Oh yes.” she agreed. “I would be to, no doubt. It’s a tricky thing, pregnancy”

Draco turned to y/n. “Hey. I’ve already got the perfect story to tell.”

“And what’s that?”

“That time he gave Potter and Weasley detention for flying that car to school.”

Y/n rolled her eyes with a giggle. 

“I’m not kidding.” 

“I know.” she responded. “Can’t wait to hear your version of the story for the millionth time.”

“I know you can’t.”

Just Admit It *smut*

Author: obrosey-af

Characters: reader x Stiles

Word count: 3,234

Warnings: literally just sex, nothing intense

Thank you tazzmariee for the request, I hope you like it(:

A/N: I’ve been really into writing smut that isn’t as rough as I usually write it lately, so let me know if you’re into that. As usual, let ya girl know whatchya think. -Er  *Masterlist*

Originally posted by moan-s


One by one, your friends trickle in thru the main doors of Beacon Hills High. Your morning routine is pretty simple. Everyone goes to their lockers right away, whoever is done first goes to the closest friend and so on. Kira slammed her locker door and, being the tiny ball of energy she was this early in the morning, skipped over to you, greeting you with her signature bear hug. The gang met up at Scott’s locker and the morning banter began.

“I’m pretty sure I failed the econ test yesterday,” you sighed as you picked at your nail beds.

“There were so many numbers and problems in it, I felt like it was a math test,” Kira whined.

“Wait, that wasn’t math class?” Isaac walks up behind, completely bewildered.

Everyone laughed just as Stiles came strolling in. His hair was a disheveled mess, like usual, and his backpack hung low on one shoulder as he fumbled through it, nearly running into Scott.

“Hey man, wake up late?” Scott joked, basically stating the obvious.

“Huh? Uh, yeah, kinda,” Stiles laughed slightly, still looking through his bag.

When he looked up, he locked eyes with you. You smiled shyly, like you always have around him, and he made no facial expression, per usual.

“Hi Stiles,” you decided to pipe up for once instead of smiling nervously and looking away.

“Yeah, hey y/n,” he said briskly before turning his attention to, big surprise, Lydia.

You’ve had a crush on Stiles for a few months now and you’ve been friends for much longer than that. However, Stiles has been paying so much more attention to Lydia and paying significantly less attention to you. Of course you knew Stiles didn’t like you the way you liked him, it was obvious to anyone with eyes and common sense. He liked Lydia. It’s always been Lydia.

“Hey Lyds,” Stiles chimed, his attitude increasing immensely as he slung his arm over her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

You glance around at your group of friends in time to see Scott looking at you. Based on his facial expression, he was either searching for chemosignals from you or trying to do his weird werewolf-ey mind reading thing he swears is real. You’d recognize that face anywhere. He realized you were watching him back and he snapped out of his trance. He tilted his head and furrowed his brows. He then looked over at Stiles and then back to you. Crap. His face immediately lit up as he grinned back and forth between you two; Stiles naturally not noticing since Lydia is standing right next to him. You could feel the heat from you blushing moving from your cheeks down to your neck.

“I, uh, I’m gonna go to class,” you announced, “Not that you care,” you said with a much quieter voice, looking directly at Stiles. You turned on your heel and walked away so fast you’re almost positive you left skid marks on the tile floor. You wouldn’t look back though because your eyes would naturally be drawn to Stiles and why torture yourself even more, right?

Later that day, you climbed up on your stool in physics and plopped your bag down on the floor. You twiddled your thumbs, nervous about the pop quiz Kira told you about when you met halfway between your english class and the physics room she just left. Scott strolled in without a care in the world, wait till he hears about the quiz, and takes his assigned seat next to you. After this morning, you don’t dare make eye contact. That will only make you more nervous and more susceptible to his werewolf crap. Awaiting the inevitable questions Scott was going to grill you with, you looked over to see him staring at you with a goofy grin on his face.

“If you do that long enough, your face will get stuck like that,” you brush him off as if you don’t know what he’s thinking, even though you obviously do.

“You like Stiles,” he simply states, that stupid smile still plastered on his face.

“I do not,” you replied nonchalantly, turning your attention to your notebook, remembering there was a quiz in literally three minutes.

“Yes you do, y/n, I smelled you this morning,” he exclaims, turning his whole body to face you.

“Do you know how weird that sounds, Scott?” you ask, keeping your focus on your notes.

Scott reaches over and snatches your notebook, flipping it closed before placing it in front of him.

“Hey!” you try to grab for the book, but Scott pushes it further away.

“Admit that you like him and I’ll give it back,” he says sternly, holding your hand down on the table to restrain you from trying to get it back.

“Why?” you asked, pulling your hand out of his grasp. He shoots you a confused look before relaxing back into his seat. “What will me admitting it change? It won’t turn me into Lydia,” you huffed, rubbing your index finger between two others; one of your annoying habits you do when you’re nervous.

“So you do like him,” Scott exclaimed, bright eyes looking down on you.

“Jesus Christ Scott, maybe you should say that louder, I don’t think they heard you mexico,” you whispered shouted, flailing your arms in an attempt to cover his mouth.

“I knew it,” he smiled, pushing your hands away, dropping your notebook back on the table in front of you.

You dramatically picked it up from the table and started searching for the page you were on previously.

“Why don’t you tell him, y/n?” Scott asks.

“I think we’ve established that I’m not Lydia,” you gesture at your face.

“What? Y/N, Stiles doesn’t like Lydia,” Scott exclaims, shaking his head, the smug smile only growing wider, “He likes you!”

“Yeah, and I’m a fucking mermaid,” you scoffed, shutting your notebook when the teacher walked in holding a stack of papers containing your impending doom; aka, the pop quiz.

“Y/N, that’s a cover, even Lydia knows it,” he blurts out, “Do you know how nervous you make him? He can barely look at you for more than five seconds without his hands getting all sweaty and clammy.”

“Scott, I know he likes Lydia, I’m not blind,” you explain.

Before Scott could protest any further, the teacher announces that you have a quiz made up by Satan himself, not her words of course, and instructed everyone to stop talking and to remove everything from their tables.

“This isn’t over,” Scott whispers as he begins writing his name at the top of his paper.

Later at lunch, you met up with with your friends at your usual table outside. As soon as you walked up, everyone immediately stopped their conversation and looked up at you.

“What’re you weirdos talking about?” you asked, taking a seat next to Isaac on the end of the bench.

“You,” Isaac snickers, followed by a yelp as he jerked his body when someone kicked him under the table. You’re sure it was Scott, based on the glare he’s sending Isaac’s way.

“What about me?”

Silence. Not just any silence either, the awkward silence where everyone nervously looks around at each other, desperately trying to think of a way to change the subject.

“What the hell were you talking about?” you snap, shooting glares around the table.

“Dude, just tell her,” Scott address to Stiles.

Stiles, who clearly didn’t expect Scott to say that, whipped his head to face his best friend, giving him the scariest death stare anyone’s received in the past three minutes.

“Tell me what?” you raise your voice, this time addressing Stiles directly. When no one said anything else, you pushed up from the picnic table and threw your backpack over your shoulder. “Fine, don’t tell me.”

“Y/N, stop, just listen,” Scott pleaded, shooting you his big, brown puppy dog eyes.

“I don’t even want to know anymore, Scott, I really don’t care,” you snapped before turning on your heel and striding away.

Stiles

Hey can I come over?

The message flashed across your phone screen, illuminating your cave of a bedroom. You ignored it, setting the phone back down next to you on the screen. Your eyes went back to the book you’re reading when your cell buzzed again.

Stiles

Please?

Me

Not home

You typed your response quickly before dropping the phone back on the bed. You barely had a chance to pick up your book before it vibrated again. With a huff, you picked it up and nearly choked on the air when you inhaled sharply.

Stiles

I’m outside

Shit. You jumped off the bed and looked through the white, translucent curtains hanging across the window. Just like he said, Stiles was standing in your driveway, leaning against the driver side door of his beat up blue jeep. You raced downstairs, skipping the last two at the bottom and swung the front door open. Stiles looked over and gave you a shy smile before pushing off the car and making his way up the front steps to you.

“Hi,” he smiles with his eyes.

“Hi,” you reply with absolutely zero enthusiasm in your voice.

“Can we talk?” he asks his stupid, adorable brown eyes widening.

Without a word, you reluctantly stepped to the side so Stiles could squeeze past. Stiles followed you down a hallway that led to the living room in the back of the house and sat down next to you on the couch.

“If this is about what Scott said at lunch, I told him I don’t care,” you explained, crossing your arms over your chest.

“It’s not just about lunch, it’s about everything,” Stiles sighed, turning his whole body to face you.

“What’re you talking about Stiles?” you sighed, completely annoyed with him already. There wasn’t the tiniest bit of hope inside you that Stiles liked you. You assume that Scott told him about physics today and he’s here to let you down easy.

“Look, just hear me out okay?” Stiles pleaded, running his fingers through his hair.

“Stiles, I don’t care about earlier, so drop it,” you snapped.

“Jesus, y/n, can you stop talking for like two seconds?” He shouted and it made you flinch. “God, do you know how infuriating you can be sometimes?”

“Excuse me?” you ask, completely confused about what the hell is going on. “How am I infuriating?”

“You always assume you know what people are going to say,” he snapped.

I do not,” you shot back defensively.

“You assumed I came here to talk about what happened at lunch,” he raised his eyebrows, knowing very well that he was right.

“Well didn’t you?” you raised your voice, throwing your hands up in defeat.

Stiles shot up from his seat and paced back and forth a couple times from the couch to the window. “I don’t know why I even came here,” he stops and puts his hands low on his hips.

“Maybe you should leave then,” you huffed, sitting back into the couch.

Stiles gave you a look you have never seen before. He was smiling, but you could tell he was either mad or annoyed; more than likely both. He took a deep breath and for a second you weren’t sure if he was going to breath fire. He held back whatever he was going to say and sighed, pacing again. “I don’t even know why I like you,” he scoffs just loud enough for you to hear.

“You what?” you questioned, not totally sure if you heard his right.

“I like you, y/n,” he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air, “and I can read you the Pros and Cons list I made about it like three months ago.”

“You like Lydia…” you said in a tone that wasn’t completely sure if you were telling him or asking him.

“I. Like. You,” he paused in between each word, now standing still and staring at you.

You were at a complete loss for words. You were mentally beating yourself up because Stiles Stilinski just told you that he likes you and all you want to ask him is ‘why?’

“Let’s hear it then,” you shrugged your shoulders, raising your eyebrows to let him know you’re listening.

“Wait, what?” he asked with surprise in his voice.

“The Pros and Cons list, I wanna hear it,” you demanded.

This time, it was Stiles who didn’t know what to say. He slowly walked over and sat down on the edge of the coffee table directly in front of you. “Which do you want first?” he asked.

“Cons,” you replied, after thinking for a moment.

Stiles took a deep breath and looked you in the eyes. This was probably a bad idea, you thought.

“Well for starters, you’re bossy as hell and you’re a complete know it all,” he couldn’t help but smile when he saw your dumbfounded expression.

“Keep going…” you shook your head.

“You’re a bad listener, you hardly let someone get a word in sometimes,” he continued, “and you wear that goddamn dress with the black and white stripes that’s all flowy and shit,” he flails his arms around his head.

“How is that a con?” you asked, refering to the last statement.

“Because,” he paused, looking at the ceiling, “because I have to see you in it and it kills me,” his voice softened at the end.

“What’re the pros?” you asked, sinking deeper into the couch.

“How much time do you have, it’s kinda a long list,” he smiled shyly, causing your face to heat up, probably turning red as well.

“Well,” he began when you didn’t respond, “you’re insanely beautiful…like…really beautiful,” he said with a blush. “You always know when something’s wrong with me, like even before Scott notices and you always make sure I’m okay.”

It was getting harder to look at Stiles because all you wanted to do was lurch into his arms, but you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

“You’re smart, y/n, practically a genius,” he complemented.

“I am not,” you smiled and shook your head.

“You are. I know I said you’re a know it all, but most of the time, you’re right about it,” he said, “Sometimes you even know what I’m thinking or feeling before I know.”

“I can’t believe you memorized your list,” you said, trying to change the subject.

“I didn’t,” he smiled.

“What do you mean?”

He stood up and leaned over you, pinning his hands on either side of your head on the back of the couch, his face inches from yours.

“Whenever I see you, y/n, I think of at least twenty new reasons why I like you,” he smiled.

He then dipped his head lower and pressed his lips to yours. It took you a second to wrap your head about what was happening. Stiles pulled back, searching your eyes for any reaction. You cupped his cheeks in your hands, pressing your lips back to his, harder than he had before. Stiles began to pull away again, but this time he held your hands and pulled you up from the couch, never letting your lips break from each others. He wrapped his arms around your lower back and held you tightly against his abdomen. Your broke the kiss and tugged him back down the hallway and up the stairs. As close of friends as you and Stiles once were, he had never seen your bedroom. He stopped in the doorway and looked around. The opposite wall from the door was adorned with three tall bookshelves, lined with rows of books upon books upon books. The floor in front was cluttered with two stacks of books as well. To his left, your bed rested in the corner of the room, multiple blankets and pillows scattered amongst it. The only light was the faint glow of white string lights that hung around the entire perimeter of your room up where the wall met the ceiling. When Stiles looked over, he noticed you watching take it all in.

“What’s the face for?” you asked, nervously, scooting closer to the edge of your bed.

“I knew you liked to read, I just didn’t know how much,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, it’s a little ridiculous, it-it’s dumb,” you stuttered, looking away from the brown eyed boy.

“Don’t do that,” he sighed, walking over and sitting next to you.

“Do what?” you asked.

He cupped your cheek to make you look at him and his smile practically melted your heart. “Don’t say something you love so much is dumb, because it’s not.”

He pulled your face closer and planted his lips on yours. You began scooting back on the bed, guiding Stiles back with you. He hovered over you, holding himself up on his forearms. You toyed at the hem of his shirt and he sat up and yanked it over his head, haphazardly tossing it to the side. Resuming the kiss, he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip and you granted him access, allowing him to intensify the kiss. He gently dropped his body down closer to yours and ever so slowly started to roll his hips against your body, feeling the apparent bulge every now and again. The make out session picked up and before you knew it, you were laying there naked and feeling completely exposed, watching Stiles push his khakis and boxers off his hips together and kick them to the side. He crawled back up the bed lingering over your bed and start placing open mouth kissed across your jaw linr and down your neck. You fingers fluttered down his chest, trailing all the way down his stomach and along the trail of hair that led to his lower v. His breath hitched against your skin as you took hold of his length and gently pumped from the base to the tip. His lips found yours again. Stiles moved his hand down, covering yours while you still had hold of his member. He lined himself up with his entrance and looked down at you. With his left elbow being his only support to hold himself above you, he bent his wrist down and brushed a piece of hair out of your eyes and smiled sweetly. He slowly pushed into you and watched as your eyes slammed closed, trying hard to suppress any noise. After giving you a few second to adjust to him, he started grinding his body into yours, getting into a steady rhythm. Stiles moaned against my lips, picking up his pace. You felt yourself coming undone underneath him as he pulled you closer to the edge. His breath quickened and he was coming shortly after. He continued to thrust into you to help you reach your climax, before you were coming as well. Stiles took a second to catch his breath and pulling out and carefully laying down next to you. He wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you close. You rested your head on his chest and he held you tighter by resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Just so we’re clear…you don’t like Lydia?” you joked.

“Shut up,” Stiles smirked, kissing the top of your head.

Study Buddies | highschool!au

Originally posted by blackpinknet

Summary: You don’t question why one of the most popular girls in school asks you to tutor her; that is until she starts doing better than you in math. 

Word Count: 3,435 

Jennie Kim didn’t need a tutor for math and yet here she was sitting at the library with Y/N L/N. The sun had already set but she managed to persuade you to stay a little longer to help her study for the upcoming test. You didn’t mind mind helping the senior. Jennie paid attention to you when you two would go over the topics she struggled with instead of playing around.

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Fucking Finally

First things first, I did take inspiration from a different story. It’s Yoongi X Reader fic, I don’t remember the name but this is where the story generates from. However mine will be different.

So if any of you know the story that I am referring to, send me a link so I can credit the author appropriately.

“Oh fuck you Tae!” you screamed as you slammed your controller down on the table. Taehyung laughed as he watched his character throwing yours around in defeat. ’

You had invited him over to play some video games with you, seeing as how you’d just gotten a new gaming system. He offered to help you set it up if he could play on it with you. Since your asshole of an ex decided he wanted to dick down another girl while you were days away from celebrating your year and a half anniversary.

“Ha ha! I am the greatest! Come on, ___, tell me I’m the best,” he chuckled swinging his arm over your shoulder. You scoffed and pushed his arm off, walking to the kitchen to grab something to drink for the both of you.

Taehyung was quick to follow you. The two of you drank some water and tried to decide if you wanted to try to play another game or not. You had bought quite a few new games  and you and Tae had only played a few of them. Plus, Tae didn’t have to work today, so he was all yours so to speak.

“So, do you want to watch me play Skyrim for a little while?” you asked. “I need to go to Solitude and kill some of the guards for gold,” you suggested taking your glass back to the living room. Taehyung followed you and sat down on the couch before laying his head on your lap. You eyed him curiously.

“Go on, I won’t bother you,” he said, sipping out of his cup dangerously.

You sighed, but relented and let him lay on your lap. After a while you were just running around and not doing much of anything in Skyrim, when all of a sudden a dragon appeared.

“Oh SHIT!” you screamed, gripping onto your controller and scrambling to try and get your shouts ready.

And then, not surprisingly, you died.

Taehyung was fighting off giggling as he watched you pitch a fit.

“Oh shut up Tae! You know that dragon is hard to kill! I’d like to see you do it!” you yelled, slamming the controller down on the ground.

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Boss Lady - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

It’s always good to have a close working relationship with your boss. But what if you want to be closer? More importantly, what if the feeling is mutual? AU. One-shot. Roman/OC


I’m standing by the front desk, trying not to stare at Nina Bennett as she escorts a client, surely the last for today, out of her office, leading him down the short walk towards the main entrance of the floor we’re on. Even from where I’m standing I can see her nipples protruding against the flimsy material of her white blouse. It’s the middle of summer and the ladies at the office all have on something flimsier and shorter and more revealing these days. Nina is no exception. How nice for me.

The client has finally left, and Nina is looking through a file as she walks back towards her office. I’m fighting the urge to walk over and block her path mid-step and kiss those succulent lips of hers silly, grip her waist while I’m doing so, kneading her flesh like a masseur working his client. She’s coming closer, black Louboutin stilettos clicking on the tiled floor, her head still down as she continues to peruse the file. A whiff of her perfume catches my nostrils. Fuck. Now I have to deftly shift positions so she can’t see how surfboard stiff I am for her.

I know what you’re thinking. I’m a pervert. I wonder how you’d feel if I told you she’s my boss.

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Calor (Maria Reynolds)

Masterlist

Request Queue

Warnings- abuse

Request- “Hi!! Your stories are great. This request might be out of your comfort level since you mainly write from the male characters point of view, but I was hoping that maybe you could do a Maria Reynolds story from her POV. I think it would be interesting to see her view on everything that went down with Alexander. Thanks!!😊”

A/N- (I did so much research for this fic. Did you know that Burr stopped Hamilton from dueling James Monroe and he was basically Jefferson in ‘We Know’ because he confronted Hammy about the money and rumors and Ham was like ‘look at these letters from my side chick’ 

Also Maria was 24 and had a duaghter with James when this started but I’m too lazy to go back and insert a child into this fic

also also (these author’s notes just get longer and longer jesuis) sorry this is kinda short i wanted to make it longer but i’m writing this at 4 am and i have 5 other fics to write before I leave :O”

Words- 1,117

I felt the sting before his palm even collided with my face. I’m used to it, God am I used to it, but that doesn’t make it hurt less every time it happens. The pain bloomed across my face like a flower riddled with thorns. 

“Don’t fucking talk back to me you bitch.” James wrapped his fingers around my throat, but he didn’t constrict, yet. 

“I-I only asked where you were going.” I stuttered. I felt rage boiling inside me, aimed at the man I no longer knew, but I was all to aware that if I wasn’t careful, the aftermath would be bloody. 

He glared, and I coughed as his fingers clenched slightly. “You should know better than to ask that.” he growled before releasing me. I took a deep breath. I don’t remember the last time I was so grateful for air. Probably the last time James was upset. 

“I’m sorry.” I whispered. 

His lips snarled and he laughed a cold laugh that sent shivers through me. “Have a nice life, Maria.” he spat before turning and walking out the door. 

When I was sure he was gone, I sighed and sat down on the deep yellow parlor sofa, dirty and worn from the countless nights James hadn’t made it to our bed. I was grateful he was gone. For a few hours at least, I was free. He would come back, though. He always did. 


It had been six days since James left me. No letters, not even a small note. No idea where he was. No idea when he was coming back. No sign that he cared about me at all. 

Everyday bills and notices of unpaid debts poured in. I stared down at them helplessly. James had never been gone this long before. Usually it was just a night, maybe a full day. I looked from the many papers to the door. James wasn’t coming home. Something had to be done. 

The air was warm as I walked along the streets, but I felt cold. Despite everything, there was a small glimmer of golden hope. James may be gone, and I had nothing, but James was gone. The light inside of me dimmed when I saw several children out playing in front of one of the house. I was hit with the stark reminder of why this all started, and how it was my fault. 

I felt my insides churning as I knocked on what I hoped was the right door. A tired and sullen looking man appeared before me. He perked up at the sight of me. 

“Hello.” he said carefully. 

“H-hello sir.” I stuttered, feeling uncharacteristically embarrassed. “I really sorry to bother you; you’re obviously very busy.” I looked down. My coiled hair fell over my face. I felt his touch on my arm and flinched away instinctively. 

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “How did you get these?” His voice was quiet. I glanced and noticed he was staring at the purple and yellow flowers that riddled my arms and collarbone. I couldn’t think of anything to say. All I did was stare helplessly up at the older man. His eyes were dark and tired, but underneath all that there was genuine concern, something I hadn’t seen a very long time. “What’s your name?” he asked quietly.  

“Maria Reynolds.” I said meekly. 

A grin spread slowly across his face. “Maria.” he said like it was something spectacular. “Alexander Hamilton. Please, come in.”  He opened the door wider and stepped aside. 

“Thank you, sir.” I said as I walked past him. I looked around at the calm household. I had not been here before this, but I could still tell that the house was empty and unusually quiet. 

“Please sit.” Alexander said. I nodded and sat down on the couch he gestured to, still taking in my surroundings. Books and quills covered practically every surface. “Can I get you anything?” 

“No. I really shouldn’t stay long.” I said. Thoughts of what James might do if he knew I was here flashed through my mind. I almost made a run for it. Alexander sensed this. 

“It’s okay, Maria.” He sat down next to me. “No one will know you’re here.” I nodded and swallowed hard. I hated asking for help, but I had no other choice. 

“I came to ask you for favor…” I started. 

“Of course.” Alexander assured. I bit my lip and looked down at my hands. 

“My husband is…difficult.” I explained. Alexander nodded, signaling both sympathy and understanding. “He…well he left about a week ago, and now bills are piling up and-” 

Alexander held his hand up and stopped me from rambling any further. “Maria, I would be not only a fool, but also an ass if I didn’t help you.”  he smiled. Alexander stood up from the couch gracefully and walked through an open doorway. I leaned back and saw him bending over a very chaotic looking desk with a quill in his hand. He returned to me with a satisfied grin, and held out a large rectangle of paper. I took it from him slowly and glanced down. 

“Oh, Mr Hamilton, sir. This is too much. I couldn’t take this.” I uttered. 

He waved a hand in the air. “Please, I’m more than willing. If you need more, please come see me again,” He grabbed my hand and brushed his lips against it softly. “Miss Maria.” My heart fluttered at the gentle notion. I hadn’t experienced such kindness from a man in years. “I will walk you home.” he offered, holding his arm out. I took it gratefully. 

“You’re too kind, sir.” I commented with a small on my face. 

“Please, call me Alexander, or Alex even.” he said. I smiled and looked down as we walked out onto the street. I told Alexander all the right turns to take until we arrived in front of the house I once shared with James Reynolds. I sighed and turned to Alexander. 

“Thank you, Alexander, for everything.” I stressed. 

“Of course.” he smiled. His hand trailed down my forearm slowly. “If there’s anything else I can do for you, Maria, just let me know.” 

Realization hit. Of course. It was such a large sum of money of course he would want something more. And he looked so stressed too. It made sense.

I looked up at him through my eyelashes. “Would you like to come inside Alexander?” 

He looked out towards the street. Whether he was trying to decide if this was worth it or simply checking to see that no one was looking, you couldn’t tell, but after a moment he turned to you. 

“How could I say no, Maria.”