one shoulder side top

Up to Fate

Request: reader meets Bill at a premier for It, He flirts with her, they hit off, she invites him back her place and fluffy sex ensues. Hope you enjoy! 💙

When the chaos inevitably becomes too much, you begin your search for a quieter place to rest before the film starts. You find refuge in a bar tucked into the corner of the building and order a double gin and tonic, two limes on the side. You weren’t exactly sure how you got yourself into this predicament but it definitely had something to do with your brother needing a plus-one to the Hollywood film premier of a movie he had little to no actual involvement in. He had already found your seats but the idea of sitting in a crowded theatre for more than fifteen minutes without anything actually occurring, made your skin crawl.

You’re about to order another cocktail when someone takes the seat next to you, gesturing to the bartender. “A stoli on the rocks and… whatever the lady wants.” You glance to the stranger sitting next to you, wide-eyed. He’s extremely tall and devastatingly handsome.   

Handle this properly, you remind yourself. “While the gesture is a appreciated, I don’t really need you to buy my next drink,”

“A thank you usually suffices in this instance.” He chuckles, sliding your drink over to you. Your cheeks burn hot, and you know that he’s right so you thank him for the gesture.

He’s about to open his mouth to say something else when someone in the distance calls out to him. You watch as he swills back the last of his vodka, slaps a hand on the counter and turns to you. “What would you say if I told you that you were the most beautiful woman here?” 

You take a decent swig of your gin and tonic, and set the almost empty glass down on the wooden counter in front of you. “I’d call you a bloody liar; and I’d tell you that you’re stepping on my dress.”

His gaze travels south, and he let’s an expletive fall from his mouth when he realizes he has indeed been standing on your dress. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

You shake your head, grinning. “Guess it’s a good thing it’s a rental, huh?”

The taller man scratches at the back of his head, smiling brightly at you. “It has been the greatest pleasure to be able to share a quick drink with you this evening.”

“What’s your name?” You shout out after him when you realize you never actually got it in the first place.
He turns back on his heel, beaming. “It’s Bill!” 

It’s Bill. 

And that’s all it takes; it’s funny how someone can waltz that easily into your life. You had woken up that morning completely oblivious to what was about to happen and here you are now, halfway through a film about a terrifying demon clown and all you can think of is Bill.   

It’s only at the close of the film that your brother turns to you and says, “I’d like to introduce you to someone.” You’re about to protest; you’ve got plenty of other things to be doing… but alas, your evening is wide open. You watch him stand up and wave to someone in the distance. “Come on!” He whispers excitedly.

You notice the shoes first; taught, shiny leather and as your eyes travel further and finally rest on his face, you can’t help but smile like an idiot. “We meet again.” 

Bill outstretches his hand for you to shake. “Fate has an interesting way of doing that, huh?”

“You guys know each other?” The comfortable silence is punctuated by your brother’s understandable confusion.

“Not really, no. We shared a drink at the bar before the premier.” Your brother nods slowly, the pieces falling together. “The film was incredible by the way,” you offer up to Bill. “Truly. Your acting was impeccable.”

A soft smile breaks across his face and he bows towards you. “Thank you very much. This uh… this film meant a lot for me to do and I almost can’t believe it’s out already. I kind of have to keep pinching myself.”

“Should we head to bar then? Celebrate a little? A few of the crew members are heading to a new spot downtown.” Your brothers tone is hopeful but you don’t think you can bare another few hours in these heels.

“I’m actually going to head to my car but you should definitely go out and have some fun.” You smile, poking him teasingly in the ribs. He’s about to protest, but decides against it and simply nods instead.

“I will walk you out to your car,” Bill offers and you fight to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. You watch as he throws a friendly arm around your brother’s shoulder. “Was great seeing you tonight, man. Thanks for showing up to support.”

Goosebumps rise in small patterns on your arms when you enter out into the balmy September evening and it takes only seconds before Bill’s offering up his navy suit jacket to you, which you accept graciously. “You came alone tonight?” You ask, trying to sound as in interested as possible.

Bill shakes his head. “No, I came with my two brothers and their dates. But they left pretty soon after the movie ended.”

“Would you like to come back to mine? I owe you a drink.” You’re at your car; It’s a long shot and probably somewhat inappropriate but you have this particular feeling about Bill that you couldn’t knock even if you tried.
“I’d love that.” He grins.

The car ride is uneventful, only broken by periods of small conversation. He’s from Sweden, is the third youngest in a family of eight children, and loves his mother dearly. At one point you can actually feel his gaze boring a hole into the side of your face and you smile shyly. “You’re just incredibly attractive.” He offers up when you confront him about it. You’re suddenly grateful that it’s dark in the car, the heat in your neck and cheeks is almost too intense.

“This is it,” You murmur once you’ve got the key in the lock and the door open. “Make yourself at home.” You kick off your heels and place them inside the coat closet of your apartment. Bill follows suit behind you, leaving his shoes by the mat at the front door. “What can I make you to drink?” You ask.

Bill shrugs his shoulders. “Anything, really. I’m not too particular with alcohol.”
You hang his suit jacket against the back of your kitchen chair and set to work making him a pisco sour. You’re trying in vain to remember the exact recipe when Bill simply says, “Come here.”

You do as you’re told and join him at the window in your living room. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you without hesitation, your arms circle his waist and this is actually happening. He pulls away, kisses just beneath your ear and simply says, “I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you sitting at the bar tonight.”

“Do it again,” you whisper breathlessly. Bill grins at this and kisses you hard again, it’s so intense you’re worried for a second that you’ll pass out. Bill pulls away again though this time it’s to turn you around so that you’re facing the window.

“Lets get this beautiful thing off of you.” His long fingers brush the soft skin of your back as he slowly unzips the dress, pausing every now and then to press his lips to the skin there. You let the pleasant shivers wrack your body. He reaches around to your front to squeeze your breast and you involuntarily moan into the touch. You’re pretty sure you feel him smile into your shoulder, which turns you on even more. He unclasps your bra with near expert skill and slowly pulls your panties down your legs. “So fucking beautiful,” He groans into your neck and you feel weak. He turns you back around again so that you’re facing him, completely stark naked. He kneels down to the ground, slowly kissing down your body as he goes. Your heart is hammering so hard in your chest you’re almost wondering if he can hear it. He stops just above your vagina, placing gentle kisses to your inner thighs. “Place your leg over my shoulder, baby.” He says softly and again, you do as you’re told. He parts you with ease and begins to lap slowly at your tight, wet core.

“Oh my god,” you moan, throwing your head back a little too hard against the glass window pane. Your fingers find purchase in his hair and you fight the urge to grind yourself against his face. His ministrations are slow and deliberate at first and you’re in danger of coming too soon. You remember that he’s also doing all of this in a three-piece suit and you have to tell yourself to breathe. He sucks your clit into his mouth and you bring a hand to yours to keep from screaming out. It’s a constant pattern; deliberate laps against your folds and then your clit in his mouth. It’s only when his teeth scrape over the sensitive bundle of nerves that you actually do scream out into the air before you.

“You going to come for me baby?” he asks, and all you can do is nod soundlessly. He pulls away to insert two fingers into you and a few more slow, hard licks and you’re coming in overpowering waves against his face. His rides it out with you and places a kiss to your vagina when he’s finished. It’s only when he straightens up that you notice the tent form hard and tight against his trousers. Wordlessly, you take his hand and lead him to your bedroom down the hall.   

You’re both quiet as you set to work undressing him, taking time to marvel at the soft, alabaster skin beneath his shirt. He’s watching you intently, a small smile evident on his face. He pulls down his boxers and moves to the side of your bed, glancing at the drawer next to it. “They’re in there.” You nod and watch, amused as he reaches in, grabs a condom, rips open the foil packaging with his teeth and rolls it on. “I’d like you to ride me.” The confession is so quiet you almost don’t hear it. You swallow hard and watch as he positions himself on your bed, half sitting up, his back rests against your wooden headboard. “Come here, baby.”

You stumble over to him, legs still weak from your previous orgasm. You place both hands on top of his shoulders, one leg on either side of his and sink yourself onto his fully erect penis. “Holy fuck,” Bill gasps, dropping his head to your collarbone. You begin to bounce rhythmically on top of him, letting your head fall back as he begins to hit that one particular spot inside of you. He plants his hands firmly on top of your hips. “So fucking wet,” He groans loudly in pleasure.

“Just for you,” you whisper against the shell of his ear; this alone causes him to involuntarily buck his hips against yours and you cry out in pleasure.

“I need more,” Bill moans, and physically lifts you off of him. You know almost immediately that he wants to do it doggy style so you position yourself on all fours and wait for him to start. He positions himself behind you, placing chaste kisses down the length of your spine. “Here we go,” He murmurs, pushing himself inside of you. His thrusts are slow at first and then they begin to pick up tempo and it’s all you can do to keep from screaming out into thin air. You arch your back for him, and he taps your bottom lightly. “Not going to last much longer like this, y/n.” A few more finite thrusts into you and he’s tumbling over the edge, groaning your name into the damp skin of your back. “Oh my fucking god,” He gasps, pulling out and collapsing into the space next to you. He kisses the back of your head and pulls you into his embrace.

You take a deep breath and let it out, revelling in his touch. “Just so this is clear… I am not in the habit of sleeping with famous Swedish men the first night I meet them.”

Bill presses a soft kiss to your neck. “Just so you and I are clear… you were, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman there tonight.”

Natural Beauty

Pairing: Philip Hamilton x Reader (Modern)
Word Count: 2,384ish
T/W: Smut, Kinks 
A/N: (Requests open) So I’m currently taking a college summer semester which means I go to class every week day. It’s a “physical education” class, so we work out everyday and that’s how I got this idea. 
Side note: Am I the only one who sees Philip as Anthony Lee Medina?…

“Yes! That’s a new time!” you exclaimed.

“Yeah…by like…two minutes!!…” your best friend, Theodosia, panted, as she bent over, resting her hands on her knees. 

The two of you made a pact to run together the whole summer, until school started again. After all it was going to be your senior year of college, you simply had to look your best. Though running in the middle of summer did make you sweat like no tomorrow.

“That’s a lot Theo!!” you squinted up as you tried to calmed your breathing. 

“Uh-huh, yeah…well it’s got me sweating like a pig!” Theo stood up and pulled at her t-shirt which had sweat spots scattered across it.

“I told you to wear a tank top!” you gestured to yourself smirking.

“Yeah, well I’m sure, Philip will love it!” She winked, eyes trailing down to your chest. 

“Oh come on! I know he’s “innocent”, but he’s seen my boobs before…”

“I’m just sayin’…with them all glistening and perky-”

“Dear Lord, Theo! He’s not even supposed to be home, he said he was going to visit his Dad.” you shrugged, “Though I kinda wish he was more assertive, ya know? I’m usually starting stuff. I know he always wants to make sure I’m in the mood, but honestly I’d love to see him be in the mood first…”

“Maybe you gotta find what really does it for him? Some guys are like that you know? There’s that one thing that just makes them go crazy!” Theo looked at her watch, “I better get home, I’m having family dinner tonight.”

“Okay, well have fun girl!” You hugging her before unlocking the apartment door and jogging up the stairs until you reached your floor. Turning the key and opening the door you find Philip sitting by the counter typing on his laptop. Probably writing something for the summer poetry class he was taking in grad school.  

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anonymous asked:

Headcanons for Erwin and Armin's bedtime routine with their s/o (goodnight kisses, cuddles etc.) and what they would do if their s/o had a nightmare, please?


  • I can see Erwin having a pretty strict night routine. He seems like the type to want to turn in early once everything was finished for the day, given that he needs adequate sleep. 
  • Before bed, Erwin likes to pull out a book and read a little to calm down his mind. Sometimes it’s fiction, often times not–whatever the case, his s/o picks up on the habit and often reads with him by the light of the lamp on his nightstand. 
  • Eventually, when they both get tired, he’ll turn out the light and drape an arm around his s/o’s midsection, allowing them to cuddle up against his chest.
  • He’s probably a fan of being the big spoon. I can imagine that Erwin likes feeling his s/o there; it’s comforting to him.
  • Erwin is a pretty medium sleeper. He won’t wake at the slightest toss and turn, but he definitely takes notice when his s/o is having a nightmare. 
  • He debates on waking them up most of the time. Depending on the severity of it, he’ll gently shake his s/o awake, looking at them through the pale moonlight spilling into the room.
  • “You were having a nightmare. It’s okay now.” 
  • His s/o would take a deep breath and curl back against him, usually content to listen to his heartbeat to help them fall back asleep. They don’t talk about what they saw because they don’t want to burden Erwin with their own worries and gory imagery; he already had enough on his own to deal with.


  • I don’t think Armin has a strict bedtime, but he does like to go to sleep at a decent hour. Forcing him to stay up later than 1 A.M. is equivalent to torture for him, probably. 
  • He is definitely the type to want to read before bed, whether it be some book he picked up or an article that he found interesting on the internet. He’d have his s/o snuggled up on one side, his arm braced around the tops of their shoulders, with his free hand skimming whatever he decided to read for that evening. 

  • Armin isn’t very picky when it comes to sleeping positions with his s/o, but he likes being small spoon, sometimes. It’s warm and it’s relaxing; what’s not to like? 

  • He’s a pretty light sleeper so, if his s/o tries to shift around and adjust themselves, he’d tiredly lift his arm or leg depending on the position and mumble a quiet “You okay?” just to check up on them. 

  • When his s/o begins to restlessly toss and turn, Armin is up immediately, gently shaking their shoulder in order to wake them up. Depending on the severity of the nightmare, he’d kiss his s/o’s forehead before getting out of the covers to get them a glass of water. 

  • “Do you want to talk about it?” 

  • Once they settled down, Armin would lay awake and wait for his s/o to fall back asleep just in case he needed to wake them up from another nightmare. He wouldn’t mind waiting to hear their breathing even out, especially if it was a particularly bad nightmare. He’s had them often and knows just how terrifying they can be.
Woc Series: Our Little Secret

Hey guys!! This imagine was requested where Y/N has nipple piercings!! As always, comment, give feedback, and ask questions! But most of all enjoy!!


It was nearing midnight, an old Drake song was reverberating through the air, and you were drunk.

You were holed up in Harry’s London flat in one of his black sheer tops, a bralette peeking through, with your favorite jeans on; a flute of champagne was set on the coffee table next to you, and you were sitting on the carpet across from Harry, both of you locked in an intense question game.

You bit at your bottom lip, tasting the bubbly liquid on its plump surface before narrowing your eyes and thinking of a question that you genuinely wanted to know the answer to.

“Favorite memory?” You finally asked before reaching for your champagne to take a sip, eyeing your best friend from over the brim.  You watched carefully as Harry’s face turned pensive, his green eyes becoming clouded with thought.

“Mmmm… good question, love. To be honest, I have so many great memories….” He hummed as he brought a hand up to rustle his short hair.

“I’m not gonna let you off the hook.  Come on Styles,” you teased, giggling lightly when he made a face at you.

“Probably when mum married Robin.  Seeing her so happy.  I often think about the joy on her face, and I use it kind of as a reference point…. I ‘ve been able to put that look on her face a couple of times before,” Harry nodded his head lightly, the green of his eyes becoming light as he told you.

You immediately smiled at Harry, feeling your heart lighten.  He was just so pure and genuine; a true gentleman.  You didn’t know why you thought he would say some memory with his old band, but you found that the one he told you was so much more him.  He was a family man in its truest form and it was no secret that he absolutely loved and adored Anne; you weren’t surprised by his answer.

Stuck in your thoughts, you caught yourself staring at him, at the way he smiled softly to himself causing his dimples to appear lightly and the way in which he crinkled his nose after messing with his hair. You quickly looked away and grabbed the glass again to take a long sip of the bubbly liquid, finding that it made your head lighter.

Harry reached for his beer bottle before taking a long swig of the brown liquid, no doubt thinking of a question.  You fixed him with a tipsy smile, your mind swimming as you watched Harry’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.  He was quite tipsy himself and you felt a blush flower across your cheeks as Harry set down the beer bottle before darting out his tongue to collect the excess liquid on his lips.

“Your turn,” you prompted, your voice coming out light and airy.

“Let’s see, poppet,” Harry scratched at the corner of his mouth with his thumb, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

“Favorite member of One Direction?” Harry grinned as he tried to hold back his laughter, his green eyes dancing impishly.

You rolled your eyes, giggling under your breath before adjusting Harry’s sheer top, letting one side fall off your shoulder.

“Definitely Niall,” you said, your tone and face serious.  You watched amused as Harry’s eyes bulged slightly and his mouth parted in surprise.

“I’m wounded…”

You laughed, covering your open mouth with your small hand. “You shouldn’t ask those type of questions, Haz.  You know how much I love to mess with you,” you giggled.

Harry eyed you carefully before shaking his head, chuckling slightly.  You watched as he took another long pull from his bottle, grimacing slightly at the sharp taste.

The song changed to an old Rolling Stones ballad, and Harry nodded his head lightly to the opening notes. His eyes were becoming more and more clouded by the drink that was in his hands, and his smile was broadening with every sip.

“Ok, Haz… are you going to grow back your hair?” You asked lightly, your mind fuzzy and your lips moving slowly.

“Of course.  Although I do quite like the short hair.. getting used to it.  But, I look better with the long hair, innit?”  Harry grew thoughtful causing you to laugh.  He was just so adorable with his furrowed brows and confused expression.

“I like your long hair better,” you confessed, reaching for your flute of champagne to finish it off.

Harry watched you as you swallowed it down.  “You want another?”

“How many glasses have I had?” You asked, trying to remember but not able to.

“I think you finished your third, love…” Harry pursed his lips in thought.

“Oh goodness,” you giggled lightly before shaking your head slowly.  “I probably shouldn’t.”

Harry simply shrugged at you before bringing the bottle up to his lips again and taking a pull of it.

“Ok, Y/N… Let’s see,” he hummed thoughtfully as he drew a hand through his hair.  “One secret that you never want your parents to know,” he gave you his infamous grin, his eyes lighting up.

You immediately began to blush from underneath your dark skin and you smiled sheepishly.

“Well…” you cleared your throat softly before looking around the room, your head spinning lightly.  “I sort of have some piercings…” you bit at your lip lightly, eyeing Harry as his face grew pensive and his eyes roved around the room.

“Okkkkkkk….” Harry drew out his response as he scratched at his eyebrow.

“As in like, nipple piercings……..” you whispered as softly as you could.

“I’m sorry?” Harry leaned forward towards you, his face alight with wonder; not sure if what he heard was correct.

“Nipple piercings,” you giggled, somewhat embarrassed.

“Jesus, poppet,” Harry’s voice deepened with an emotion that didn’t register in your drunken state.

“Yeaa,” you said sheepishly, feeling your face warm.  You pushed a few curls behind your ear, before bringing up your eyes to meet Harry’s. His eyes were wide with awe and his lips were curled up in a soft smile, his dimples popping.  He shook his head disbelievingly.

“That’s mental, Y/N. I’ve known you for years and yet somehow I didn’t know my best friend has nipple piercings,” Harry admonished, his tone serious.

“It was a secret.  I got them done my freshman year of college,” you rolled your eyes.  “Everyone was doing it and I thought they looked cute…” you smiled at the memory.

You watched lazily as Harry’s eyes shifted down to his sheer top, and the bralette underneath.  

“Are the piercings in now?”

You nodded slowly, your mind lagging from the amount of champagne you had consumed.

There looked to be a question on the tip of Harry’s tongue, and you waited a beat to see if he would ask it; however, he merely shook his head in disbelief before taking a large swig of his beer, tipping his head back to finish the bottle.

“You wanna see?”  You questioned softly, your voice barely covering the music playing in the background.

Harry immediately snapped his head back to face you, and his eyes took in your calm face, roving over your dark eyes to see if you were serious before his green orbs fell down to your lips, waiting to see if you would say that you were just joking.

It took him a second before he nodded slowly, his face turning a slight pink.

“Only if you’re comfortable though, love,” his speech was slightly slurred and the British tilt to his words warmed something deep inside you.

You nodded slowly at him and you found yourself smiling when you caught a grin making its way across his face.  “Ok,” you whispered before unbuttoning the sheer top all the way.  The air was warm around you and you ran a hand down your tummy, it was flat, but you still had love handles.  You quickly looked up at Harry again; he was entranced with your face, watching you; no doubt unsure if he should look at you yet.

With a slight breath in, you quickly took off your bralette; it was your favorite one, burgundy in color that complimented your brown skin nicely.  You sat up straight, bare in front of Harry, the metal of the piercings softly shining in the dim lights.

You heard Harry breathe shallowly and you raised your head to eye him carefully.  He was biting at his lips, his eyes trained on your nipples, his breathing ragged.

You took in a deep breath before huffing it out, looking down at your breasts.  They were of ample size, and the cool metal of the piercings accentuated the darker brown of your nipples nicely.  You tenderly brushed a finger over the nipple before cupping your breasts in your hands; they were perky but you still pulled them up a bit so that Harry could see better.

“Jesus Christ,” Harry muttered causing you to look up at him.  His expression was slightly pained and his chest was heaving up and down. There was something in his eyes that caused you to shift a bit from your position on the floor.

You watched as Harry brought out his tongue to dab at the corner of his mouth, and you blushed when he cleared his throat and looked away from your chest reluctantly.

“What have, um, your boyfriends thought of them?”  Harry’s voice came out rough and low as he asked you.

You brought your hands back to your sides, your bralette and Harry’s shirt thrown carelessly next to you. You chuckled lightly, your mind so fuzzy that you weren’t fully comprehending that you had no shirt or bra on.

“Well I’ve only had one boyfriend since getting them done…. Remember Bryan?” You watched as Harry nodded, his hand coming up to tug lightly at his short hair.  You cocked your head when you noticed that his hands had a slight tremor to them.

“Well… he really liked them,” you whispered before biting at your bottom lip, wondering why your body was growing hot.

“I’ll be honest with you, poppet. They’re sexy as hell,” Harry grunted out.  Hearing the rasp of his voice caused you to bring your arms around to cover yourself.  Your body was beginning to respond to his words and the tone of his voice, and even in your drunken state you knew that you were passing a crucial point of friendship.

“Thank you, Haz,” you fixed him with a crooked smile.

“I just wish you wouldn’t hide from me,” Harry nodded to your arms that were covering your chest. “I won’t bite unless you want me to,” Harry continued with a drunken smile.

“Are you hitting on me, Styles?” You giggled as you shook your head, feeling your curls swish around your shoulders.

“Possibly,” he shrugged, his eyes still dark.  He licked his lips quickly, causing you to look away.

“But yea so that’s my secret,” you said, your voice light.

“I have another question, my love…”

“Yea?” You swallowed.

“Did Bryan ever suck on them?”

“Excuse me?”  You were completely flustered.  You knew Harry was only being bold because he was so drunk, but it still caught you off guard.

You watched as Harry scooted over closer to you until his crossed knees were touching your own. You could smell the heady scent of him, and the alcohol on his breath.  His face was mere inches from your own and you could see the genuine curiosity splayed on his face.

You watched, frozen, as he leaned into you, placing one hand on your crossed arms, the other he placed on the apple of your cheek, caressing it softly.  Your breathing hitched and you watched as he gave you a crooked grin, his right dimple appearing.

“Poppet, I know you heard me…” he taunted you, his voice deep and smooth.  You breathed in a staggered breath, the musky scent of Harry invading your senses and leaving you in a stupor.

“I-I, Harry,” you whimpered quietly, your eyes locked on his.  You were entranced as his emerald eyes darkened and your breath hitched once more when they hardened.

“Did he suck on them, Y/N?” Harry asked you again, his voice soft.

You nodded, your stomach beginning to tingle and when Harry pulled softly at your arms, you gave no resistance, simply allowing him to see you again.

Before you could stop him, Harry moved your hair back from your neck.  He then immediately attached his mouth onto the side of it, right below your ear.  An involuntary moan worked its way from your mouth at the warmness of his mouth and his wet tongue as he tongued small circles into your neck.

“Harry,” you breathed heavily.  He pulled back to blow lightly onto your neck and you jumped slightly before feeling a tingling sensation just below your tummy.

“I won’t suck on you, Y/N. Because then I’ll want to do more,” Harry whispered into your ear.  You closed your eyes and surrendered to the feeling residing low in your belly and when he placed a chaste kiss underneath your ear once more, you whimpered.

“Poppet,” Harry’s said drunkenly, “tomorrow when we’re both sober, we’re going to have a serious conversation….. This was the last straw; I need to have you as my girl.”  Harry breathed loosely.

“We’re not in our right minds, but I’ve wanted to be with you for a long time now.  Are you listening, my love?”

You nodded fervently, his words seeming to slice through the drunken stupor that you were in.

Harry then reluctantly pulled away from you to grab his sheer top.  He lazily helped you put it on.

“Wait my bralette..” you said drunkenly.

“No, love.  You don’t need it.  I wanna see your piercings some more,” Harry told you earnestly.

Once the shirt was on Harry stood up before pulling you up which took a couple of tries because you were unsteady on your feet.

“Let me walk you to the guest bedroom…” Harry murmured softly, his voice still gruff.

“Carry me, please,” you demanded with a pout.  Harry rolled his eyes playfully before grabbing you slowly to pick you up bridal style.  You giggled slightly as he walked down the hall, his path shaky and curved.

“We’re so drunk, Haz….” You laughed aloud.  Before he could respond, he tripped over his feet and the two of you came tumbling down. You grunted as you fell on top of Harry.

A long beat passed before you broke out into laughter.  “Are you okay?” You asked between chuckles.

“Owwwww,” Harry whined from underneath you.

“Shutup Harry; you’re fine.” You rolled your eyes with a grin before looking down into Harry’s eyes. There were some flecks of gold in them, and you smiled at the softness in them.

Before you could stop yourself, you lowered your face down on his and captured his lips with your own. He tasted of strong beer, but his lips were still impeccably soft.  You felt as he brought his hand up to grasp the back of your neck, holding you against him. You licked at his bottom lip before you smiled into him.

You didn’t know if it was because you were inebriated or if it was because you had been harboring feelings for him for so long, but you felt buoyed, completely afloat.  And as you deepened the kiss, you knew you couldn’t wait until the next day.

Oswald x Reader- Bird in a Cage (Rated M)

This story is inspired by the Gotham promo where Oswald is in Arkham, also following a conversation with the amazing @oswald-cobblepot-addicted  Please read the warnings:

Warning: Sexual content, early Subswald, Dominant Reader, chains, restraints, foul language, oral sex, mild knife play, injections/needles (not sexual), so much kink and smut, dark Oswald, dark thoughts, masturbating, violence

Originally posted by gothamfox

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3x01-The Dress-drabble

Look! I’m making amends for all the angst! Told you I had another idea and it was nothing like the others. 

This is a bit of a ‘what it’. As in what if these two poor loves actually got to finish their dinner, and go back to her place, and see where the night takes them. With no explosions, and no blood, and no angst. 

The amazing dress Felicity is wearing has a bit of a staring role. 

Hope you enjoy! 

Let me know what you think! 

Read it at or ao3

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The Rebel and the Rose. Chapter 3.

Part One, Part Two


Part 1: Chapter 3.

The day passed as usual. Claire pottered around the house, cleaned, read, and organised the mess the soldiers had left, sighing the entire time. She heard nothing from the cellar and she didn’t dare to look just in case someone had eyes on the house. As the light dimmed and the day faded, Claire decided the men might like something to eat. She’d prepared them a small super and went in search of a little whisky, they were Scots after all.

Saying nothing she pulled away the small rug covering the opening, lifted the wooden hatch and placed bread, cheese and a small bottle of liquor on the third step. She closed the door and walked away, she’d hoped they would hear and come to investigate. She’d check come morning and hope they’d taken it. Hopefully then the army would be well away, and she could safely get the fugitives out of her home.

Nobody had to know. With this thought secure in her mind she got herself ready for bed. Worn out from the exertions of the day, she knew she would sleep well.

She’d probably been dozing for a couple of hours when she heard the eerie sound of boots against the bedroom floor. She lay still, gripping the bedsheets tight between her fingers. Her arms throbbed where bruises were forming from her run in with the redcoats and she tried to focus on that, rather than the footsteps that were coming closer.

The door creaked open, the hinges protesting noisily. Claire’s back was to it, so she couldn’t see who had entered, but her shoulders were starting to shake. What if she was wrong? What if they meant her harm? She was beginning to regret not having the army take them away.

Quick, like lightning, he had her in his arms, his hand clasped over her mouth. She panicked but then relaxed. He had hold of her, but his touch was strangely gentle. She felt calm. Her heart was beating an unruly rhythm in her chest, and her hands had reached up to grip his wrists. His chest rose and fell against her back as he kneeled either side of her.

“Dinna panic, lass. I willna hurt ye, I’m sorry I had to grab ye, but I didna want ye screaming, aye? Just nod, let me know it’s safe to let ye go, ken?” She nodded once, blinking rapidly as he slowly let her go. She half crawled, half stumbled to the end of the bed and twirled around to face her captor.

“It’s going to be alright, ye have my word, I mean ye no harm.” His palms were up in surrender, as were hers, she noticed.

“What do you want?” She whispered into the dark, her tone almost pleading with him. She fervently hoped he was coming to tell her that they were leaving, that way she could get back to some manner of normality.

“I dinna want much, mistress. My name is James Fraser, ye can call me Jamie though. My godfather, Murtagh, and I, we got into a wee stramash in the town, needed to make a quick getaway, ye ken?”

“Stramash?” She asked, quizzically. “The dragoon guard said you were wanted for treason…”

“Aye, a fight. We didna start it, but as ye said; we’re wanted now, for soliciting rebels.” He winked in the glowing darkness, his face alight with mischief. If he’d asked her right then and there to sign her name up for the rebellion, she was sure she’d have done it, no complaints.

Instead she blinked away the thought and adjusted her position on the bed, sitting now with her feet under her, her hands resting on her exposed knees. Her night shift slipped, fell off one side and exposed her shoulder and the top of one of her arms.

“Who did that to ye?” Jamie noted, his head tipped to the side indicating with his eyes at the bruising blossoming on her fair skin. His tone went from playful to simmering anger in a moment.

She quickly pulled the fabric back over her skin, her cheeks turning red. She’d forgotten, momentarily, about the intrusion and the forceful guards.

“It’s n-nothing, please, don’t worry…” Her voice was low, she dipped her head to avoid his eyes. Quietly, he crept over, and gently lifted her chin.

“It isna nothing, lass. Who hurt ye?”

“The dragoons, they came searching for you. I…well, I didn’t know what to do. I told them I hadn’t seen anything!” She added hastily, afraid he might turn on her if he thought she’d given them any information.

“Dinna fash about that! They mistreated ye? Marked ye?”

“Y-yes. One of them. I’m not sure he believed me. I was angry…at the insinuation. I shouted at their captain, and one of the other guards, he grabbed me. It’s nothing, honestly, it’ll be gone in a few days.”

He didn’t seem to buy it. He kept looking at the tops of her arms, his brows drawn together. She wrapped her hands around her waist, feeling self conscious at his assessment.

“You’re leaving now?” She said to try and break his concentration, desperate for an opportunity to go back to sleep and pretend this had all been a bad dream.

“Aye, I hope to. Murtagh has gone out to scope the area. If it’s clear, we’ll be gone. I’m a bit…conspicuous, you see, big red-heided Scot. Tends to stand out, ye ken? Murtagh’s a bit more canty. Small and less likely to be spotted. Especially at night.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully she’d have her house back come sunrise.

“I came to say thank ye, anyway, for the hospitality. For no’ telling the English we were here, ye could ha’ ratted us out. I’ll always be grateful o’ that. Also for the food and whisky!” He chuckled and licked his lips. “Such fine stuff, we were mighty happy, I can tell ye." 

She couldn’t help but smile back, his playful attitude was infectious. 

"If I’m being completely honest…” He stopped, fiddled with the bedspread and blushed a little before continuing, “…Murtagh left an hour back, I started to get a wee bit lonesome. So I thought ye may be alright wi’ me coming to keep ye company?”

She quirked her head to the side and smiled sadly into the darkness.

“I know loneliness. My uncle, he rents this house for me, he’s away, see, in France I think. He teaches, history mostly, but sometimes healing and medicines. Mostly I go with him, but this time he said he needed to go alone. So here I am. Alone.”

“Ye arena marrit then?” He didn’t seem shocked by it, people usually were. Just curious.

“No.” Now it was her turn to fiddle with the loose threads under her fingers.

“I was engaged, a long time ago. But it didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry for it, lass. He must ha’ been a silly fool no’ to claim ye as his as soon as he could.” She smiled, humorlessly, as she glanced up at the dwindling fire.

“It’s probably for the best, I don’t mind being on my own, so much.” Jamie twisted himself, and shimmied up the bed to rest against the headboard. With his hand he beckoned her to come and join him, without thinking too much about it, she followed his lead. They were now sat inches apart, face to face.

Her eyes were heavy, fatigued from not enough sleep and too much activity. She slid her feet under the coverlet and curled up in a little ball. Her head had shimmied down and found a pillow as she yawned in earnest.

“Ach, lass. Yer tired. I should go…” Jamie didn’t much feel like leaving, but he also knew it wasn’t proper to stay. She’d been kind to them, looked after them when she didn’t need to. It would have been easier for her to have given them up.

“No, stay…” Her hand reached forward, swiftly, and grasped his fingers. In a moment her eyes had closed fully and her shoulders had slackened with sleep.

He lay by her side, their hands interlaced, his thumbs running patterns over her cooling skin. He should move back to the basement, Murtagh would return soon and they could be on their way, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her. She looked so small, so fragile, huddled up in a wee ball. He pulled the duvet up and over her shoulders, having to let go of her to do so. Her face contorted in confusion at the loss of his touch.

“Yer a blessing, a wee sassenach blessing.” He whispered into the quiet room before he pulled himself from her company, returning to his hideaway once more.