she's still laughing at my pain

Everybody says ‘not a day goes by that I haven’t thought about you’ and I felt like that was the stupidest saying because one day you would forget. One day you wouldn’t think of her. One day everything would be great and you’d make it all the way through without memories popping into your head. It was just bound to happen. But then it happened to me. A year gone by and not a single day that she hadn’t been on my mind. And it’s not like it just happens once and then the rest of the day is normal. It’s constant memories. It’s pictures in my head. It’s voicemails. It’s her smile when I close my eyes. It’s her laugh that I still hear. It’s her hazel eyes that are branded into my thoughts. So now I don’t take it lightly when someone says 'not a day goes by that I haven’t thought about you’ because I’ve been through it and it’s a pain I would never wish on anyone.
Part of the team

Cross posted to ao3


Ford looks at the piles of paper scattered around the table and groans. “This is just for the room assignments for the roadies?”

“Sadly, yes,” Lardo says, patting her on the back. “It only looks complicated though. I mostly have a system you can stick with, you’ll just have to worry about the new frogs next year.”

“Somehow I almost wish I was trying to schedule rehearsals again,” Ford mutters.

“Here,” Lardo hands her a small red folder. “Look, this is the basic set up, okay? I have one for hotels that have strictly doubles, one that has doubles and singles, and hotels where you might have to squish 3 per room. It happens sometimes.”

“Okay,” Ford flips the folder open and compares the sheets side by side. “So some people are always together, some people move around, and - what are those red exclamation points at the bottom?”

“Those mean absolutely not,” Lardo points out one pair. “Like, Whiskey and Tango get along really well normally, but before a game Whiskey needs quiet, and Tango always has questions. Terrible combination, as we discovered on their first roadie. Tango and Nurse is actually a good combination, because Nurse likes a bit of a distraction, and he can usually direct the conversation back to a somewhat relevant topic. Whiskey and Dex get stuck together a lot, because they both appreciate the quiet, unless I know Chow and Dex have a comp sci project due. Then I’ll try and put them together because they’ll probably be up half the night anyways, and then you don’t have two pissed off roommates. Ransom and Holster shouldn’t be split up, because frankly, it just makes them sad, and then they pout, which is a little bit pathetic but also endearing?”

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I’ve got my swim trunks, and my flippie-floppies

for @legividivici, hope you like it!! <3 (ao3)


The last place Clarke expected to run into anyone she knows is the literal middle of the ocean, but the cruise ship has barely left port before she spots a familiar head of tousled curls ahead of her in the crowd.

She loses sight of him before she can get a good look, so she chalks it up to her imagination. It’s entirely possible that Bellamy is on the same cruise she is– they did, after all, both just graduate, and therefore have the same budget and scheduling constraints– but she tells herself it probably isn’t him. And that even if it is him, it’s not like they’re going to run into each other.

So of course the next day she’s on one of the decks by the pool when a shadow falls over her and his voice says, “Is this chair taken?”

Clarke pushes her sunglasses up on top of her head and wrinkles her nose at him.

“I don’t know, I my tiara really ought to have a chair of its own.”

Bellamy smirks and sits on the edge of the chair, not moving her stuff– not yet– but settling in to bicker with her. As is their custom.

She and Bellamy were RAs in the same dorm two years ago, and they had differing ideas at first about how hands-on they needed to be with their freshmen. Despite the way they picked at each other, by the end of the year they’d become reluctant allies, his calling her ‘Princess’ taking on less of a sneer and more of a teasing edge, her comebacks laced with a smile. They had each other’s backs.

But she didn’t re-up her RA contract for her senior year, and he did, and they’re not the type of friends to outright admit they miss each other, so she hasn’t seen nearly as much of him in the past couple of semesters as she would like.

“You here with Wells?”

“And Raven,” she nods. “I was saving those seats for them, but I’m pretty sure they ditched me to have tiny cabin sex.”

“O and Lincoln ditched me pretty fast too. I think they’ve all forfeited their right to a saved seat,” he grins, passing her bag back to her. The way he lounges back in the chair, skin already browning, wind ruffling his hair, he looks like something straight out of an ad. Or Clarke’s fantasies. Either one, really.

Just because she used to think he was a Class-A dick (which he is, but not in the way she thought. In the fun way.) doesn’t mean she’s never noticed how great his hands are, or how he’s got perfect hair for pulling, or how there’s probably more than one way to wipe a smirk off his face.

“Sure, make yourself at home,” she grumbles. He grins at her and pulls his shirt off, which is– honestly just so unfair.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

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The Hated Women of Fandom

Mary Watson wakes in a white room, sitting in a plastic chair. She’s surrounded by girls and women, some of whom are drinking heavily. There’s a banner hanging overhead, which reads Female Characters Anonymous. A redheaded teenage girl pats her on the knee.

“Don’t be frightened. We’ve been expecting you.”

“Where am I?” Mary asks.

The girl raises an eyebrow. “You don’t know?” She spreads her arms out. “This is the place where good female characters come to die.”

Mary frowns. “Oh, because I died in my show?”

Everyone laughs.

“Honey, I wish!” A woman with dark eyeliner calls out. 

“Ignore Lexa. She’s still angry about the bullet thing.” The teenage girl looks Mary up and down. “Then again, you would know something about that, wouldn’t you?”

“About what?”

“Oh, you know. Being killed off for drama. Or in your case, man pain.”

“Don’t get me started on that,” a woman to Mary’s right grumbles. She’s got bright red hair and a shirt that says Supernatural: Was it ever a good show?

“That’s Charlie. She had a good run until the writers didn’t know what to do with her.”

Mary, who’s starting to get an idea about where she is, shakes her head with a little laugh. “No, you must be mistaken. I was a good, strong character. I don’t belong here”

A few chuckles at that. Someone mutters, “I’ve heard that one before.”

The teenage girl gives her a sympathetic smile. “Have you taken a look at the fandom lately? They hate you. Always have.”

Mary frowns. “But–”

“I know it must be hard to understand at first, but let’s face it. You were an imperfect female character. You had flaws and a dark side, which would have been fine, if you hadn’t posed a threat to the Main Ship.”

A cold wind passes through the room. Everyone shudders. 

“The what?”

“Johnlock. The ship of an era.”

“Oh, that,” Mary says with a smile. “That’s perfectly fine! There’s no reason to hate me just because you ship Johnlock.”

“No, it’s not that. Some of the fandom, certainly not all of them, hate you because in their eyes, you’re the thing that’s blocking them from easy access to their ship. Trust me, I have experience with this.”

Mary squints at the girl. “Who are you?”

The girl smiles. “I’m Ginny Weasley.”

“Oh. Oh, dear.”

“Yup. I’m a bit of an old-timer around here. Boy, I cannot even begin to tell you the number of Drarry fanfics wherein I either cheat on Harry with Dean, turn into a monstrous bitch, or simply disappear altogether.”

“Don’t forget the ones where you start dating Neville for no reason!” A woman shouts out.

Ginny laughs a bit. “Those are usually alright. I have to go somewhere, right?”

Mary is starting to panic a bit. “I…I don’t think I understand.”

Ginny nods. “Don’t worry. There’s someone whom I think you should meet.” She pulls Mary to her feet and leads her towards a dark corner in the room. “This girl hasn’t been here for as long as me, but she’s certainly suffered worse. She not only got in the way of a Main Ship, but a canon Main Ship. And a straight one, at that. She’s been shat on, villainized, ignored, pretty much everything in the book. A true warrior of her time.”

Mary starts to get nervous as they approach this girl. She’s seated at a bar, head down on the counter, twirling a paint covered finger around a whiskey glass. 

When they’ve reached her, Mary clears her throat. “My name is–”

“I know who you are.”

“Oh. Well, who are you?”

After a moment’s pause, the girl downs the whiskey in one gulp, and slams the glass on the counter. She slowly turns to fix Mary with a battle-hardened stare. “My name, is Rachel. Elizabeth. Dare.”

Give Me Love, 10

Throne Of Glass High School AU

Summary: He thinks she wants nothing to do with him. She thinks he can’t remember her. Aelin and Rowan were friends once upon a time. But high school drove them apart. However, one night - one party - is about to change not only their lives, but the lives of their friend as well.

Chapters: XXX

————————————

Saturday Evening:

“What do you think?”

Aelin stepped back from her laptop. She held out her arms slightly, showing off her outfit to Nehemia.

“Mhmmm,” Nehemia placed her head on her hand. She started tapping her chin with her finger, eyes narrowed slightly. “Get rid of the red jacket. You need something more neutral.”

Aelin shredded her red leather jacket, leaving her standing in just her white, flowy t-shirt and dark skinny jeans.

“More neutral.” Aelin repeated, throwing the red jacket on her bad as she walked over to her closet.

“Yeah. The red just seemed too much.” Came Nehemia’s voice through her laptop. “What are you and Rowan doing tonight anyways?”

Keep reading

baby sister | jughead jones

Originally posted by kylogue

a/n: thinking of making this into another small series!! based on a request!! let me know if you think i should post another part! also this is my first series where  im adding another POV get keen. also ill start a tag list for this so leave a message in my ask box or down below if you’d like to be added!!

JUGHEAD’S POV

it was another busy night at pop’s chock’lit shoppe.

booths were bursting at the seams as they celebrate the win of river dales very own bulldogs. i didn’t even need to go to the game to know that they’d won. 

teenagers and parents hustle into the diner buying burgers and fries by the dozen. me? i sat in my usual booth with my usual oder; cheese burger fries and a chocolate milkshake, with of course my laptop.

i was busy typing up my newest lead that i didn’t pay any attention to the small girl that walked through pop’s doors and ended up at the front of my booth, fries and milkshake in hand.

“can i sit?” she murmurs shifting on her feet

i tilt the lid of my laptop down gesturing with my hands for her to sit, she smiles at me placing her food infront of her as she sips on her drink.

she studies me and i close my laptop completely glance at the small girl, she looked exactly like jellybean.

“everything okay?” she nods pulling books out of her back pack and plugging her headphones into her iPod.

i open my laptop and start typing again inspiration flowing through me. we stay like this for awhile, me working on my story and the little girl writing what seemed like english homework whilst bopping her head to the music that filled her earphones.

she sighs heavily causing me to look up at her “im holly (y/l/n)” i smile “jughead jones the third” she chuckles.

“theres three of you named jughead” she giggles her laugh carrying through the diner, the dinner rush was over and most of the booths were now empty. it was just us, pop and a few local stragglers. 

“you miss holly remind me of my sister” she raises her eyebrows “can’t say the same about you- my sister is way cooler than you” she sass’ and i laugh.

“how old are you holly?” “I’m 10, you?” “17″ i reply stealing one of her fries “hey!” she sulks.

“my sisters 17 too, she steals my fries too” i nod smirking to myself

“her names (y/n) we just moved her from san fransico, how olds your sister?” 

i close my laptop setting it aside “my sister is 10 years old same as you her names jellybean” she laughs again “is there three jelly beans too?” i shake my head “nope just the one and only”.

she pops a few fries in her mouth “can i ask you a few questions?” i chuckle “haven’t you just been doing exactly that?” she shakes her head.

folding my arms across my chest i decide to give in “fine, i’ll bite”

a take a swig from the saucer infront of me “are you writing about that dead kid?” i spit out my coffee choking slightly.

“yes or no?”

“yes”

“do you ever take that beanie off?” 

“no”

“not even when you shower” she pesters

i lean forward “i even poop with it on” she giggles and makes a disgusted face.

“my turn” she nods 

“what are you listening to?”

“music” i roll my eyes gesturing for her to go on “right now- all time low” 

“why are you at a diner asking a stranger at 10pm personal questions?”

her eyes widen “wait your not a murder right?” i cock my eyebrow “maybe”

“my sister was supposed to come meet me here for dinner after she’d finished work that was” she pauses looking down at her watch

“3 and a half hours ago” 

i brush my thumb against my lips “is that true?” she shrugs smirking mischievously to herself.

“do you want to use my phone to contact your sister?” she shakes her head frantically “NO”

i lean back in the booth smiling maniacally crossing my arms infront of my chest “so you sister doesn’t know your here?”

she sinks lower into the booth sipping her milkshake shamelessly 

“she’s probably worried about you”

the younger girl looks up sadly before her eyes drift over to the entrance the bell chiming indicating a new customer “crap!” she ducks underneath the table hiding herself behind my legs.

“hey!” i complain as the girl hugs my legs.

i scoff and turn and see the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen walk through the doors of pop’s. her (y/h/c) was dripping wet from the downpour outside yet it still looked incredible.

her clothes hugged her figure as the water drops from the fabric to the clean tiles. her eyes scan the booths looking for someone.

she walks over to pop worry evident on her face “hey I’m looking for my little sister she’s 10 but this high, brown hair” she gestures with her hands “her names holly” 

i clear my throat pointing to my booth, as the younger girls back pack and homework sprawled out on the table top.

she mutters a thank you before approaching my booth, she breathes a sigh of relief as she realises that the back pack indeed belonged to her younger sibling.

“you must be holly’s sister?” she nods rocking awkwardly on her heels “(y/n) (l/n) I’m sorry if she’s been bothering you- and you are?” she smiles down at me her cheeks tinting red in the warm diner.

“jughead jones-” i pause “the third” she giggles nd boy do i have to contain myself from drooling.

“there’s three of you named jughead?” she continues giggling covering her mouth and apologising “oh god I’m sorry i shouldn’t be laughing” i chuckle to myself smiling up at the girl.

“its fine, your sister actually said the exact same thing” she widens her eyes and drops to her knee spotting her younger brunette sister curled up at my legs.

“holly!” she scolds “get out and leave the poor boy alone” i try and hide my smirk.

“his name is juggie and he’s my friend” she retorts.

“its fine (y/n) honestly i have a little sister the same age, its harmless really” she shakes her had dipping back under the table.

“you give me no choice” i watch as the (y/h/c) girl moves under the table trying to grab her younger sister from underneath the table.

squeals fill the diner until holly pops out of the booth her sister trying to follow suit only to bash her head on the table and aggressively grab my thigh in the process of a line sentence of cussing.

i lean down to her offer my hand “you okay?” 

she clutches her head with one hand and she grabs mine with the other allowing me to pull her up into the seat beside me.

“id like to say that karma for laughing at my birth name?” 

she giggles still wincing in pain “atleast theres no gum in your hair” i muse smiling at the mystery girl.

“this day keeps getting better” she smiles sarcastically

“c’mon holz mums worried sick i need to get you home, so say goodbye to your new found friend and lets go. no more running away” she nods sadly rolling her eyes at her older sister.

“can we come back here tomorrow” she whines as the older girl packs away holly’s books into her backpack.

“i don’t know holly I’m already swamped in school work we can’t be coming here on a daily basis i can’t watch you all the time” the younger girl looks disappointed.

“i’ll be here” i speak up the two girls turning to look at me “if you don’t have the time you can drop her off and illl look after her for an hour or two”

she sighs looking at her sister as she stands on her knees begging her sister 

“please please please”

she looks at me biting her lip “i don’t know holz” 

holly’s face drops disappointment clearly evident on her face.

“you can come too, bring your homework if you feel up to it” she smiles at me before slipping out of the booth “i’ll think about it” 

i nod a smile creeping on my face.

“c’mon holly say bye to jughead” she smiles at me giving me a fist bump before walking to her sister.

“thank you, for looking after her. i know not everyone is wired to be kind to a young lost girl. i owe you one”

“if you come tomorrow ill make it even” he says hopeful wanting to know more about the beautiful new girl.

“maybe, goodnight” she places her hands on her sisters holders and guides her toward the exit looking back one last time to send a small smile my way.

there was something about her and i couldn’t quiet put my finger on it but i had to know her.

No but one the main reasons I love Suki so much is because she taught Sokka to view girls as real legitimate fighters, and from then on we see Sokka’s viewpoint of the most important girl in his life - Katara - change. All of a sudden, he’s no longer “don’t hurt my baby sister or I’ll kill you”. No, now it’s “don’t hurt my baby sister or SHE’LL kill you with her magic water, while I watch and laugh at your pain.” He’s still there for Katara, as a good brother should be. But he understands now that Katara is a warrior AND a girl, and she has the right to win her own battles.

Suki didn’t just show Sokka how to be a better potential boyfriend; she showed him how to be a better person overall and specifically, a better brother.

"Mom, Dad... I'm Adopted."

“Mom, Dad… I’m adopted.”

My parents ceased their activities. My mother, adorned in a pearl necklace and earrings to match stood upright. Upon both hands she word oven mitts and a matching apron. Her teal sundress really did bring out the blue in her eyes. She closed the oven and removed the mitts, revealing perfectly manicured nails.

My father sat his pipe on the end table and closed his book. His hair, just a touch of gray, was immaculate as ever. He wore a plaid shirt and a soft, tan cardigan. He removed his reading glasses to look me in the face.

Almost in unison they asked

“Why Dear?” “What makes you say that, son?”

Before them I stood. Pressed khaki pants, tucked in button down shirt and my matching belt and shoes. I felt both at one with, and detached from the people before me.

“I just…. know,” I tried to sound confident, but at the time, my confidence was lost to pubescence. “Don’t be ridiculous,” My father stood in the light of our perfectly lit kitchen. He placed his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes, “You’re our boy, and we love you.”

I studied the lines of his face seeking no, pleading for a lie, but there was none. “Sit dear,” my mother interjected opening the stove, “Dinner is nearly ready.”

I sat at our polished wooden table and placed my napkin in my lap, an old habit from etiquette school. I felt my eyes moisten.

“Are you sure?” I was able to ask, staring at the blank place on the table where my food would soon be.

My mother placed prepared plates before my father and I. He said a brief grace for the table and began eating the roast and potatoes my mother had so delicately prepared.

“Positive,” he said, savoring his bite and wiping his lip.

My mother sat last with her plate on the other side of the table to my left and took my hand. “You’re our baby,” She said, looking me in the eye and assuring me I was her offspring, “Now, let’s talk about something else! You haven’t said hello to our guest.

My eyes and face were wet and red. I stared across the table. The woman before me was tied to her chair. Ropes ran from her throat to her feet keeping her from any free movement. Across her mouth was tightly wound duct tape and her head had slumped forward.

The only appendage not tied down was her right arm. It was not a kindness extended, but rather unneeded. Her right arm was severed below the shoulder. Blood was still actively pouring from the poor bandaging and soaking her side deep red. Her eyes had rolled back into her head in a loss of consciousness from the extreme pain she had just endured. My parents shared a laugh over it being seasoned so well.

I took all this in again and cried out in a whisper,

“Please, tell me I’m adopted.”

shady-swan-jones  asked:

i have just the thing for to wake your fluff muse up: cs + You just woke up from surgery and you don’t remember me or that we’re married or have a kid because you’re so high but you flirt with me anyway au

okay, so, wanna hear something hilarious? sophie sent this prompt to me     A G E S  ago, and i started writing it, and then it got lost in the abyss. i’m so glad you sent it to me again. so…take two! i hope you like it!

also, to @killiansdevotedheart! surprise! i’m your CSSV! consider this your pre-gift because i’m still working on your actual gift but i want you to still have something. enjoy for now!

TELL ME THAT YOU LOVE ME SO

Emma knows she shouldn’t be so worried. It’s a simple appendectomy, after all—the removal of an organ human biology deemed no longer very useful years ago. She shouldn’t be so worried, especially after the doctors assured her she brought him in just in time.

(“A few more days and we would have had a mess on our hands. You did good, Emma, even if it meant dragging him here against his will.”)

Doctors assurances don’t mean much in the grand scheme of things, because it’s Killian, after all—

Killian, who spent two weeks in pain because he didn’t want to trouble her.

Killian, who sat through Henry’s ceremony in utter pain because he didn’t want to miss it.

Killian, who let his appendix almost burst because he didn’t want to be a burden.

— And yet she’d murder him herself if he didn’t make it out of this, adding a whole new meaning to the whole “til death do us part” portion of their vows.

Keep reading

BTS - you fainting.

Request: Could you do a reaction of the bts boys reacting to you fainting at the gym or something along the lines of that? Please and thank you ~ ps your writing is the best !! 

thank youuu sweet! 


Seokjin:

You two were in the gym, just like every day. You were not feeling very well, but kept doing. Out of nowhere everything went black and you were no longer consicent.
“BABY?!” He ran to you. “Shit.” He picked you up and ran to the infirmary.
“What happened? Is she okay? Will she wake up?” “Of course she will, don’t worry. It was just a pressure drop, she’ll wake up soon.”

Yoongi:

You went to the studio because you weren’t feeling well at home, you went in there and saw your boyfriend smiling at you. “Yoongi, I don’t …” You fainted.
He didn’t know what to do other than despair, but he had to remain calm. He picked you up and put you in the car, taking you to the hospital.
A few hours later, you woke up and he was at your side watching you.
“Hi …” He said smiling. “How are you?” “I don’t know…what happened?” “You passed out, but it’s everything okay now.”

Hoseok:

You were waiting for Hobi to get home to eat. You haven’t eaten all day, but you thought it would be all right. But no, it definitely didn’t go well.
You fainted before he even came.
He opened the door and saw you on the floor, he went crazy. He took you to the hospital in minutes. The doctor said it was because you were not feeding yourself right, which made him even madder.
When you woke up, you looked around and saw your boyfriend with a strange look to you.
“What?” “Why you didn’t eat?” “I was waiting for you.” “Don’t you ever do that again!” You scared me, and now you’re going to eat well every day, I don’t want you to get sick.

Namjoon:

You weren’t eating well for days, you wanted to lose weight fast. You and your boyfriend, Namjoon, were workout together every day. And today you were weaker than ever, but you still went to the gym. When you started, you fainted in a few minutes.
He took you to the hospital and after a bit of exams, he waited for you to wake up.
“Hey.” You said waking up. “Hey, princess, how are you feeling?” “Weak, but well.” “Baby, why don’t you eating right?” “I have to lose weight.” “No, you don’t have to. Look at me, I eat every day and I still have my muscles.” He started showing you, making you laugh. “You don’t have to stop eating to lose weight or something, and you’re beautiful anyway, your weight doesn’t change anything.”

Jimin:

You were in the dorm with him and the boys, you have very bad cramps and you were crying in pain. Jimin didn’t know what else to do. And out of nowhere, your vision went dark and you fell to the ground.

“OH MY GOD SHE FAINTED!” He screamed and picked you up. “JIN HYUNG! HELP ME!” He started crying.
“Oh my god! I’m going to call the ambulance, stay with her and calm down.”

(…)
After long minutes and maybe hours, you woke up. “Jimin …” You called and he came to you quickly. “Baby, are you okay?” “Yes, I am.Why are you crying?” “I was so worried!” “Everything is fine now, relax.” “I love you so much.” He took your hand. “And I love you more.”

Taehyung:

He picked up his phone and saw that he had four missed calls from your best friend. He called her back, worried. “(Y / f / n), hi! What happened?” “(Y / n) is in the hospital.” “WHAT?” “Yes, she fainted and had to go there, she woke up and is mad at you because you didn’t answer my calls, anyway, I’ll send you the address and you’ll see her.” “Shit, alright.”

(…)

You see the door of the hospital room opening and your boyfriend appears smirking.

“Hi, my love, I’m sorry I didn’t answer the calls, how are you? "I wanted to be mad at you, but I just can’t.Then come here, Taetae.Give me a hug, I need it.”

Jungkook:

He was at rehearsal when he received a call from your mother saying that you were in the hospital. Instantly he came to you. He entered the room and saw you lying on the bed. “Hi baby, how are you?” “Kookie! How did you know I’m here?” “Your mother called me.” You were afraid of fainting again, you were afraid of everything involving hospital. “You will stay with me?” “Of course I will. I’ll stay here with you until you leave, little princess.” “Why do you always treat me like a baby when I’m sick?” “Because you’re a baby.”


requests are open! feel free to ask. 

Time flies by so fast, it’s hard to believe it’s been 3 months since we brought this scallywag home, and she is 5 months old now! She has all of her big dog teeth and she is now as tall as Zak, but not as big as him yet, and she is a whooping 30 pounds! She still love to throw herself on my chest, and when she was 10 lbs it was cute, at 30 lbs it tends to be a bit more painful, and she does it to get my attention or if Zak wants my attention(she has to get closer to me than what he is).. She is a very happy dog and loves to cuddle next to you. She has brought us a lot of joy and laughs..

©AmyJMontico 2017 .. All Rights Reserved   PLEASE LEAVE CREDITS

Jerome Valeska x Reader: Our Love

Originally posted by hellomadzstuff

a big thank you to my lovely friend @im-not-dead-but-i-should-be who made writing this story possible by helping me so much!

also idk  but it really took me long to write this and it’s so short….. omg kill me


‘Perfect. Fucking perfect.’

[Y/N] was going to be late. Thanks to her alarm. She knew that shit is going to broke sooner or later and she didn’t do anything about it.

She would’t even care but today was Monday and her first class on Monday was English.

She despised her English teacher. He was an asshole. Always making rude comments about her and the other girls.

‘[Y/L/N] why do you look so sad? Smile, kid! You look so pretty with that smile!’

‘[Y/LN] what’s with that stupid smile? You’re supposed to read something!’

He was so annoying.


[Y/N] realized she’s already late anyway, so why should she bother? She wanted to have a proper breakfast.

After doing her morning routine she grabbed a backpack, keys and left the apartment.

Ugh. It was snowing.  

As she peacefully walked on the iced streets of Gotham, she checked the time and she couldn’t believe herself. This is what you get when you “shouldn’t bother”.

[Y/N] was going to be late. Again. To her second class.

So she did the only think she could think of.

She ran.


When [Y/N]’s feet met the slippery bridge, she didn’t slow down. She knew it was very risky but she could’t be that late, she would be in trouble!

She thought she’s going to be just fine because she was already in the middle of the construction but oh boy, how naive she was.

Then she was running and now she wasn’t.

Her face was in the snow..

Yes, she slipped.

[Y/N] groaned and was about to start getting up but she heard a laugh.

Quite maniacal one.

It was a male, he sounded young. She didn’t want to see him, she was to ashamed to show him his face.

It was obvious that her fall looked hilarious but seriously, she could have hurt herself!

Now she was mad at this guy.

Still too embarrassed to get up though.

So poor [Y/N] laid there until she heard the person walking away still giggling a little.

‘Wow. What an asshole.’ She thought and finally stood up.


She arrived to school after her English class. She made it right on time.

At least she didn’t have to confront her teacher.


Classes passed by very quickly, thanks to [Y/N]’s five friends.

They were supposed to grab something to eat and go to the movies. [Y/N] loved cinema.

As the laughing pack left the building they heard an explosion and people screaming. Just around the corner.

“What was that?!”

“I don’t know, let’s check it out!”

‘Very fucking smart..’ Thought [Y/N] but didn’t say anything.

Now while walking in the direction of even louder screams she seriously wanted to say something. It really wasn’t a good idea to go there, now with everything happening with Jerome Valeska being alive and his cult–




–And the penny drops.

‘That laugh. It was him!’

When running people started to pass them by she stopped in her tracks.

“Okay guys, this is very stupid of us. We really shouldn–”

“My, my, what do we have here?” Somebody cut her off.

The group slowly turned around to meet Jerome Valeska, in the flesh, standing there and smiling madly at them.

‘Oh no…now we’re screwed’

As they stared at him, too afraid to run, a school bus pulled up.

Those lunatics. Those lunatics from his cult were in this bus. 

[Y/N] could’t take a good look from her position but it seemed like all of them were ugly men with clown make up on their faces, holding weapons. 

Jerome started to laugh darkly as he saw the fear in their eyes.

“Come on children, the bus is hereee! Now, get in or..” He targeted his gun at them.

“..die.”

Scared pack could only nod, expect [Y/N].

“Alrighty then…” She spoke, wanting to play it cool. She didn’t want to give him satisfaction of her shaking in fear.

All of her friends were already in the bus, probably sobbing and not knowing what to do.

[Y/N] really wanted to save her ass, so she started to think about the plan.

The moment she was about to step into the bus, passing Jerome, [Y/N] flirtatiously smiled at him, kinda praying he’s not gay. Her plan was to use her looks to save herself. She didn’t expect anything just yet, she didn’t even have a full plan, it was all so spontaneous.

When their eye contact broke she heard him say “C'mere, Angel.”

A little shocked [Y/N] skipped to him and gave him a small smile.

She felt him put an arm around her waist.

“We can’t let you fall and hurt yourself again, can we?”

Now she was sure it was him laughing at her earlier. Douchebag.

[Y/N] only nodded as she let him hold her waist and sensing him entering the bus right after her.

Then she felt somebody hitting her head with something hard and she fell straight on the bus floor knocked out.


“Rise and shine, Beautiful..” A hot breath on her ear was present as she started to wake up.

Her vision more clear now, so she could see she’s been lying on the hard floor, and noticed the Ginger hovering over her.

She whined because her head hurt like hell.

Jerome’s face softened as he caressed her cheek.

“I’m so sorry about it, Doll. That idiot who did that to you is already dead.”

He helped her to stand up and took her to another room of wherever they were.  

What [Y/N] saw before her was absolutely terrible. Her friends tied to the chairs, crying in pain. Three psychos torturing them.

When they saw Jerome coming in, they left the room one by one, still laughing.

“Alrighty!” He shouted smiling widely at her almost lifeless friends and then turned to [Y/N].

“Listen [Y/N]..” She wasn’t even surprised he knew her name.

“When I saw you for the first time.. I knew you were just like me. Different. What I’m saying is, join me. You can be my queen of hearts. Well, more like of my heart. I know you feel the same about me, Doll Face.”

Okay, this is crazy. [Y/N] wanted to play with his mind and make him think that she likes him because she wants to be alive. Nothing wrong with that.. but she wasn’t prepared for something like this, for God’s sake. It’s not her fault nobody ever loved Jerome this way. Or at all.

What is he gonna do to her friends?!

“What about my friends?”

“Thought you’re not gonna ask! That’s the funny part, Darling!”

“..What?”

“You’re going to kill ‘em! Bang! You don’t need ‘em do you?! I’m everything you need!”

[Y/N] forgot how to speak English. She started to pray this is all a cruel joke or better - a nightmare.

“Are you crazy?! I’m not doing this!”

“Yes. You. Are.” She could tell he was angry.

He pushed a gun into her hands.

“You’re doing this, Lovely. Now.”

She targeted the gun at them, shaking like mad. She didn’t want to do this.

“Pull the trigger.” He hissed.

Too many emotions. [Y/N] was so nervous she started to sob, look on her friend’s faces not helping at all. Hopeless like they were expecting her to do it..

Now Jerome was seriously annoyed and bored.

“Guess I have to kill all of you now…”

He shot her friends in the head and dropped the gun. He took out his knife and just as he was about to hop in her way–


–There was a shot “GCPD! You’re surrounded!

And then she realized. She didn’t even flinch. She still had a gun pointed at their direction. She was too shocked to do anything.

This is so stupid.

So stupid.

“Amazing job, Honey!”

Oh no.

No.

Stupid.

He did it on purpose.


One month later, Arkham Asylum

‘’[Y/N]! How is my favourite inmate doing?” said Jerome, squeezing her hard.

She pushed him off and didn’t say anything.

“Awww, c’mon Baby, you can’t possibly be still mad at me? I did it for our love!”

Great. Now she was stuck with him in this crazy place.

At least they had their love.. Right?

How the Batboys would take care of their PMSing S/O- Jason Todd

“Jay, where’s the pain medicine?” you asked while searching the cabinets in the kitchen. “Did you use it up last night?”

“Check the back of the tea cabinet!” he shouted from the bathroom.

“Thanks, Jay!” you said and shut the cabinet you were looking in.  “You’re about to become my bitch mother nature.”

You walked over to the tea cabinet and opened it, searching for the holy grail of pain medicine you kept in the apartment for occasions like this and when Jason had intense wounds from patrol.  Shoving tea boxes out of the way, you grasped the medicine and popped open the bottle.  Without grabbing something to drink, you swallowed the pills dry and walked over to the sink.  You turned on the faucet and took a quick sip before turning it off.  Without a warning, Jason crept behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, making you sigh.

“Why are you always the perfect temperature?” you asked and leaned up against him. “I’m really curious if you could adjust your body heat.”

Jason smirked, “I could if I didn’t have my clothes on.”

“Jason!” you laughed and lightly slapped his chest.  “I would like to take up your offer, but I’m waiting for the pain medicine to kick in.”

“That time of the month again?” he asked and buried his face into your neck.

“Yup,” you replied.  “Mother nature’s a complete bitch.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that, (Y/N).  She might curse you even more,” he warned jokingly.

“Please, Jay, don’t underestimate a woman’s pain tolerance,” you said and turned around to face him, pecking his lips. “Is the offer still valid?”

“Maybe,” he said and wiggled his eyebrows.

You snorted,”Well if that’s a yes, I’m going to go take a shower and you’re joining me.”

“Yes, ma'am!” Jason saluted and ran to your shared bedroom.

“You are such a dork.”

“But I’m your dork.”

“Touché.”

Spilling Love || Junhui || Oneshot

Word Count: 1709

Genre: oneshot, fluff

Summary: Junhui has a hard time figuring out why his coworker hates him so much until he hears Jeonghan’s ridiculous suggestion. 


Junhui lives next door to his coworker. And his coworker (you) is pretty cute.

Every morning that he goes to work, he’d see you. You two would make eye contact as you are locking the door and he gives you a friendly smile, which you end up scowling at and walking away from. You would walk ahead to the elevator and then Junhui would get on with you. The two of you would stand in uncomfortable silence until the floor is reached and then you would board the same bus (with him sitting in the front and you in the back or visa versa) and you two would get to work at the same time and go to your respective seats then too.

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I honestly still cry about this smile. It was probably the first time he had smiled in MONTHS and he looks like such a little boy with pure joy on his face because Jemma is back and safe. After months of being terrified, feeling so alone, not knowing if she was alive or in pain, and he can FINALLY wrap his arms around her and know for certain that she’s safe. It also makes me laugh because I feel like there’s a little bit of “I told you so” impishness there too because he did what everyone kept telling him was impossible. MY BOY. Iain does SO MUCH with one look. :’)

Disposable pt 4

Being friends with benefits with Min Yoongi can be complicated (at best) by itself. But when you accidentally tell your family (and his boss) that the two of you are dating, things get messy.

Angst, fluff, slight smut at times.

Part 1, 2, 3, 5


Everything was fine. Or, that’s what you kept telling yourself. Namjoon had been more than a little bit surprised to hear that the guy you were in such a “serious and loving” relationship with was none other than his star employee (his words, not yours). You told him that once you learned where Yoongi worked, you had decided to keep it to yourself so if things didn’t work out it wouldn’t be more complicated than it had to be.

Jungkook had sent the picture to Namjoon not long after, and you were glad that at least you had a chance to think about things before Namjoon was bombarding you with more questions. You had run away from all of them, telling him that you had better things to do (as it turned out, “better things” was eating ice cream and asking yourself why Yoongi of all people).

You were just about to give up and leave (maybe you could tell Namjoon that you forgot about lunch) when Yoongi walked in, looking his usual self. He was wearing a tie and blazer, looking just nice enough for the occasion, and just casual enough to appear relaxed.

What really reminded you that this was a terrible idea was the way he kissed you—and what was worse was the way you reacted. You melted into him, just as you always had. And when he pulled away, there was nothing there. No giggly breathlessness, no sorrow, no feeling. Even his words sounded empty as he said “You said to act like I’m in love.”

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“I forget things,” John said to Sherlock as they stood at Mary’s grave.
Both men avoided looking at each other and kept staring down at the things they’d brought: a vase with roses and tulips, a little candle burning behind glass.
“Since this morning, I can’t remember what her laugh sounded like. Yesterday I forgot what it felt like to touch her hair.”

John was crying. Sherlock could hear it in his voice, and he wondered if it was a good idea to try and comfort him.
To his surprise, John suddenly reached out and took Sherlock’s hand.

“Mary always did that when we visited your grave,” he explained. “She held my hand.”

“Do you still talk to her?” Sherlock asked.

John squeezed his hand so hard that it hurt. Sherlock endured the pain like he always did.

“I try not to,” John answered. “It’s not exactly a sign of sanity to talk to the dead.”

“Sanity is overrated.” Sherlock shrugged. “I talk to her every day. I still want to apologize. I made a vow, and I didn’t keep it.”

“You still can, you know.”
John’s grip on his hand became softer, almost gentle. He turned away from the grave and looked up at Sherlock.
“The family still consists of three people you can protect.”

“Rosie,” Sherlock said. “And you. And…?”

“Yourself.”
John ran his hand up Sherlock’s arm, where his clothes were hiding the needle marks.
“You always forget yourself.”

He walked away and left Sherlock alone with Mary and his thoughts.

anonymous asked:

Can You do a Roman Reigns Imagine? Where we have to share a hotel, and we get into a heated arguement which leads to rough , passionate sex?

  A/N: I’m so sorry that this took so long to get done. But I hope you love it!

Warnings: Daddy kink, strong language, shower sex (is that warning??) uuuuh, can’t think of anything else. I write before the requests before I give the warnings so sometimes I forget :P

                      ___________________________________

      “I have to do what!?! No, there is no way that I’m gonna share my room with her! Come on, Triple H, can’t you just get her a different room? Hmm, I didn’t think so,” I said to Hunter over my cell phone. He had just informed me that I had to share my room with Y/N, the new WWE Diva. I guess with her being new and everything, Triple H and Stephanie McMahon forgot to book her a room so now I had to share mine with her.

     "Can’t she just sleep in her car,“ I asked, continuing my rant. But, of course, Triple H said no. (I just hope that he knew that I was joking.) He then told me to ‘be a man’ and deal with and it and said that Y/N should be up to my room in a few minutes. So I hung up the phone, unlocked the door, sat down back on my bed and kept an ear out for the newbie.

     The knocks on the door came half an hour later (‘in a few minutes’ my ass). Already I knew who it was, so I said 'the door’s unlocked’ and in walked Y/N. She had her bags in her hands and a towel around her neck, telling me that she just came from the gym. That and Y/N was wearing a tank-top and shorts. Plus, she was drenched in sweat; which, I hate to admit, was kinda hot.

    “Hey, Roman,” Y/N said to me after she closed and locked the door.

       “Hey,” I said back to her. I leaned back on my -or I guess I should say our- bed and started to play a game on my phone just to show the new comer that I wasn’t interested in anything that she had to say. Unfortunately she wasn’t getting the message.

    “Sorry you have to share your room with me,” she said. “I know that this wasn’t your idea, but-”

“You can say that again,” I retorted with a roll of my eyes.

    “I know this wasn’t your idea, but-” Y/N annoyingly repeated herself and then laughed at herself. I narrowed my eyes at her and she just shrugged her shoulders.

“What,” she asked. “You said I could say it again.”

    “You know  I didn’t mean it, smart ass. Now, why don’t you go to sleep on the couch so that way I won’t have to hear your voice anymore?”

  “Seriously, Roman? The couch? I thought that you would be a gentleman and let me have the bed.”

      “Normally I would, but you’re such a newbie that you just don’t deserve it,” I said laughing to myself.

  “Whatever,”she scoffed back, “I have to take a shower first, anyways.”

   “In that case, I think I have to pee.”

  “No you don’t; you’re just saying that cause I said that I want to take a shower!”

      “Probably. But you’re still not going in the bathroom, and there’s nothing you can do about it, Newbie.”

    I was completely wrong on that part cause after I said that, Y/N came over to the side of the bed that I was on, lifted one of her legs up and slammed it down onto my stomach.

   “Fuck,” I groaned in pain. Then I rolled on my side and watched as Y/N walked into the bathroom with a smirk on her face.

          A few minutes later and I could hear the shower running.

                                         *                *                  *

      It had been a whole hour after Y/N had started her shower, and I had to piss. Badly. But she still wasn’t out of the bathroom. So I went to the door and heard the shower still running. I knocked hard a few times, but Y/N wasn’t responding. Look, I’m a gentleman and everything, but when a man’s gotta piss, a man’s gotta piss and I ain’t tryna piss through the window. I tried the doorknob and noticed that the door was unlocked, so I opened it and saw something that made my dick hard: Y/N had the shower head in her hand and it was pointed at her pussy. The look of pleasure was all over her face. Moans were escaping her lips, but it was hard to tell what she was saying exactly, so I listened more closely. “Fuck! Ro- Roman,” she purred my name. She purred my name!

   “Me,” I accidentally asked out loud. I still couldn’t believe that shit.

       “Shit! Roman? What the hell are you doing in here,” Y/N asked in return as she dropped the shower head. She quickly covered herself up with her hands at first and then with the shower curtain.

     “Uh, I had to take a leak,” I answered, “and you were takin’ way too long. By the way, were just playin’ with yourself….and thinkin’ about me?”

    “No! Now fuck off!”

      I took a few more steps into the bathroom and and put a smirk on my face. “Baby girl, I’d rather get you off,” I replied with a wink.

    Y/N let out a nervous gulp but had let go of the shower curtain, letting me see her in her whole naked, wet, beauty. “What’re gonna do to me, Roman?”

       “Pick that shower head back up and hand it to me, Newbie.” She did what I told her to do and I chuckled. “Baby girl, you got this on the wrong setting.”

   “What do you mean, I got it on the wrong setting,” Y/N asked impatiently, making me chuckle again.

      “Cause yo got it on spray when you should have it on massage.” I changed the setting and aimed the nozzle at Y/N’s clit. I smirked when she instantly moaned. The look on her face told me that she was enjoying this more than when she was doing this to herself.

       After a while I decided to get in the tub with the newbie. So I handed her the shower nozzle, got shirtless and pants-less and sat on the side of the tub. I took the nozzle back from her and watched as she started to rub herself. I licked my lips before I smacked her hand away and put two of fingers in her glorious hole.

   “Roman, oh my god,” Y/N screamed.

     “You like that, Baby-girl,” I asked her while I pumped in and out of her. God, I wish it was my cock filling her pussy up, but I had to wait til I got her good and ready and I had a great way to do that. I slowly pulled my fingers out of her, stood up and put the shower head back where it belongs.

     “What’re you doing, baby,” Y/N asked me in an innocent voice.

       “Nuh-uh, Newbie,” I said with a wag of my index finger. “You only get to call me Daddy.”

   “Daddy?”

        “Yup, just like that; sounds fuckin’ hot too. Now, bring you fine ass closer to so I can eat you out.”

     Y/N smiled as she said “yes, Daddy”.

      She moved close enough so that her lightly trimmed bush was on my chin. I dipped my head a little to give myself a small taste of her dripping pussy. It was a quick swipe of my tongue and Y/N couldn’t help but to whimper.

    “Damn, baby, you taste so good!”

           “Fuck, how do you go from hating my guts to eating me out,” Y/N wanted to know.

    “Who cares, baby,” I answered, “just let me enjoy my feast.”

     Y/N rapidly nodded her head and I lapped up her moist opening. I went slow at first, but Y/N told me to stop teasing, so I went faster earning many loud moans from the newbie. She moaned my name plenty of times, holding on to my long hair as she came on my tongue with shakes and screams.

     “Damn, Newbie. I would’ve been doin’ this to ya much sooner if I had known that you were gonna taste so sweet and sound even sweeter.” I laughed while standing up in the tub.

      “Well, I would’ve let you do it sooner if I had known that your tongue was so powerf-” Y/N cut herself off when she saw my hard cock spring at my abs after I removed my briefs. “Holy shit,” she whispered, eyeing my dick, “you’ve got a mighty hammer there, Thor.”

    “Haha, thanks, Newbie.”

      Y/N groaned in annoyance. “When are you going to stop calling me that, Roman? You know that I’m great in the ring and I’ve beaten almost all of my opponents!”

   The whole time that Y/N was ranting, she was also looking at my naked body body up and down. She saw how my cock was dripping with pre-cum and licked her lips.

    “I’ll start callin’ you by your name once you prove to me that you can take this dick. Oh, and you can stop callin’ me Daddy while we fuck…unless of course you want to keep callin’ me Daddy.” A smirk made it’s way on to my face as Y/N made an ‘o’ shape with her mouth. “Now come on, Newbie, lets get started.”

   I helped Y/N wrap her legs around my waist and I was back in her glorious hole, but this time with my thick dick. When it got in her, the newbie gasped and asked me to give her some time to adjust to my size. Once she was ready, I slowly went in and out of her and both instantly moaned. I picked up the pace some after a few more slow thrusts, and I loooooved the way she felt around my cock. I told her that and she moaned while sucking on my neck.

    “I love the way you fill me up,” she finally said. “Your cock feels so fucking          good in me, Daddy.”

    “Mmm, I see you have no problem with still callin’ me Daddy, Newbie.”

    “Aw, fucking shiiiiit,” she moaned as I continued to pound into her and suckin’ on her nipples. “Can you blame me? You’re so fucking hot!”

     Y/N saying that got my motor running faster than before. So I made it so that Y/N’s back was right on the shower wall, picked up my pace and really pounded into her tight, wet pussy. God, it felt so fuckin’ good. My long hair got in my face and I so desperately needed to see the newbie’s sex face. So I flipped my hair over and saw her staring straight back at me with a tear falling down her cheek. I knew it was from pleasure, but I still felt the need to ask.

    “You okay, Baby-girl?”

      “Fuck yeah, Daddy,” she answered, out of breath. “You’re just really hitting my G-spot and it feels so fucking good and I -ah, shit!”

    I hit Y/N’s G-spot several more times, that’s how she cut herself off that time: cause she was enjoying my D too much. But I was enjoying her P just as much, maybe even more.

    “Come on, Newbie,” I growled, “cum all over my cock!” I told her that cause I knew that she was close; I could feel it. But I wanted her moans to be captured in my mouth, so I quickly put my mouth on hers and continued to thrust into her hole.

  Our tongues fought for dominance as we kissed and moaned in each other’s mouths. A few more thrusts later and I had the newbie shaking with pleasure. Her moans vibrating in my mouth added with her pussy pulsing around my cock had me cumming my own damn self.

    “Fuck, that was hot,” I said after I finished shooting my load in Y/N’s dripping pussy. I let Y/N back down and kissed her passionately on the lips.

   “I know, best sex ever,” Y/N replied. “But I took your dick. Hell, I loved taking it. So, I guess that means that you’re not gonna call me Newbie anymore, right?”

   I smirked at her before caressing her cheek. “That’s right, Y/N.” Her eyes lit up when I said her name. “Now lets get washed up and then go to bed together, Newbie.”

Fanfiction - A Lifetime of Her (Part VI)

Part VI – “My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder”

Twenty-eight

She didn’t come back after that night – I knew she had gone back to Boston, to take control over her life. I waited. The phone never rang to give me news or an explanation, inexplicably silent even though I was certain she could find the number had she wished to. And I waited. My mailbox was painfully empty every day, while I dreamt of letters touched by her fingers, read aloud by her warm voice. And yet I waited.

I waited because I had no choice – I was meant to wait for her. Our lives were inextricably connected, vessels adrift on the sea with an intended destination written in the stars. I had tried to forget her before, to live pretending I wasn’t waiting – and that had hurt more than the hours I spent awake at night, looking at the spot where she once had laid by my side. But there was that small fraction of time, that heartbeat, just before I opened my eyes in the morning, where everything was possible – and I was happy.

Sometimes I would catch myself checking the weather in Boston, wanting to know if she could see the stars in clear skies – at least I could share that proximity with her. I wondered if she had drank coffee, dark and strong, while her eyes were still half-shut. If she had decided on a specialty yet. That was better than wondering about her marriage – every time I turned my thoughts to Frank, the idea of her being touched by him brought me to a blinding state of anger and fear. I would go outside in those occasions to run, as fast as I could for as long as I was able, until I had fled myself and was somewhat free.

I enjoyed teaching and found great solace in my students, curious and lively little fiends, always looking for trouble. I dedicated myself to the task of keeping their spirits sharp and their curiosity burning.

I had my old friends, with whom I shared whiskey glasses and laughs at the pub – keeping a respectful distance from the place I knew Laoghaire still frequented. They kept me grounded, even with their crudes jokes about my bachelor status. While I was laughing, it was easier to wait – I could almost push Claire to the back of my mind, where she would curl and sleep, satisfied.

Saturday was born in blazing glory, sun shining high in a cloudless sky like a treasure’s coin. I accepted the chance to spend the morning exploring the paths at Arthur’s Seat, pushing myself to the limit. I reached the summit with a delicious pain at each breath intake, the air fresh like crushed mint, filling my chest with the pulse of life.

Back at my apartment, I made plans to shower and spend a lazy afternoon reading and napping on the couch, while I stripped off my sweaty t-shirt, heading towards the bathroom.

That’s when the doorbell rang.

I opened it without thinking twice, expecting perhaps to see Angus or Willie, swinging by to challenge me to watch a rugby match or play a chess game.

Her hair was a bit shorter than the last time I had seen her, framing a face that was slightly flushed from sunlight and anticipation. She was wearing a white sundress and I realized I had been wrong – my memories would never be more than a pale comparison to the woman who stood before me. Her arms were bare, with no visible marks, her flawless skin resembling a painting.

“May I come in?” Claire asked softly, her eyes quickly tracing the lines of my exposed chest before she looked at my face, expectant.

“Of course.” I moved to the side, allowing her in. I brushed my hair with nervous fingers, desperately looking for an old t-shirt to dress. Eventually, I settled for the one I had been wearing, smelling faintly of sweat and crushed leaves.

“I wanted to come sooner.” She swallowed hard. “I’ve been in Scotland for a couple of days, but had to take care of some papers to start my surgical residency here and find somewhere to stay permanently.” Claire searched my eyes. “I’m moving back to Scotland.”

“Aye.” I said in a husky voice. “I’m glad to see ye, Claire.”

“I’m glad to see you too, Jamie.” She smiled, more confident. “These past two years, I -“

“Ye dinna have to explain anything to me.” I interrupted, feeling strangely hollow, fighting against anger which came with a sense of relief.

“I think I do.” Claire insisted, stepping closer to me. “I want you to know that I heard you, Jamie. I didn’t want to make promises until I truly meant them. I had to finish school and decide what I really wanted for my life.”

“And did ye?” I croaked, folding my arms in a defensive gesture, pre-emptively shielding myself from bad news.

“Yes.” She whispered. In that moment she reached out with her hand, offering it to me with her palm down – naked. Her wedding ring gone. “I divorced Frank more than a year ago – and never lived with him again after I was here.” Claire searched his eyes. “With you.”

“Then why did ye never wrote or called?” I asked, hurt creeping into my words. “Why did ye waited two years to show up again?”

“I had to be worthy of you.” Claire said simply, twisting her hands – her fingers touching the ghost of the ring that once had been there. “I had to make sure I was coming because it was the right thing – not because I was wrecked. You offered me everything and I wanted to have something to give back.”

“I missed ye.” I admitted in a whisper, as her hand touched my cheek – I closed my eyes, surrendering to her caress. “A Dhia, I thought I’d go mad with the idea of never seeing ye again.”

“I missed you too.” She gasped, her body so close to mine I could feel the swell of her breasts, the compelling heat coming from her skin. “I haven’t realized I could barely breathe until now.”

“Are ye here to stay then?” I asked serious, our eyes locking. We were gently swaying along some music we could both listen, too eager to stand still, too afraid to finally meet in quietness. “Because if ye’re not…”

She silenced me with her trembling fingers, touching my mouth, learning the shape of my lips. I almost moaned with the pleasure of her touch, so sincere and tender.

“I’m here to stay.” Claire assured me, tracing the line of my chin, where stubble prickled. “If you’ll have me.”

“I’ll have ye in any way I can.” I whispered, my voice almost breaking with emotion – and yet, stronger than ever before. “Always.”

“Jamie…” She sighed with a smile, her forehead leaning against mine. “May I kiss you?” I realized she didn’t wish to rob me another kiss, a thief taking something precious, covered in the night’s cloak.

“I thought ye’d never ask.” I gave her a lopsided smile and our lips finally met, a kiss eighteen years in the making, hesitant at first and then all-consuming.

We spent the afternoon discovering each other, laying in the living room’s rug, slowly and languidly displacing clothes in order to kiss another inch of skin, to draw shapes of desire with our fingertips.

I opened the first buttons of her dress, tracing with my tongue the curve of her breasts; she insinuated her hands on my shorts, caressing the fine copper hairs of my thighs. I nuzzled her neck, softly biting her until she moaned, so I could reward her with a soothing flicker of my tongue. She laughed and playfully clawed my back, making sure I too would wear medals of our war, marks of the victor. I marvelled with the roundness of her arse and the feel of her swollen lips, battered with kisses, ever-wanting. I was mightily aroused – that much was evident to us both – and yet I didn’t move to enter her. I didn’t wish to precipitate the voyage we had started together, to hasten something that would come naturally to us, as each one of our meetings through life had. I would finally get a lifetime of her and planned to savour each small conquest.

“Are ye hungry?” I asked eventually, kissing her shoulder. She looked dishevelled and wanton, pure lust and love in the shape of a woman – I’d never seen her more beautiful or desirable.

“I’m starved.” She laughed, nuzzling the hollow of my chest one final time. “Will you feed me then?”

“Ach, I’m too knackered to cook.” I admitted, playing with her curls – already sorely missing her lips on mine. “But there’s a fantastic Mexican place nearby – I’ll buy ye dinner.”

“If you’re planning to intoxicate me with Margaritas,” Claire sat up and started to compose her clothes. “I have to say it’ll probably work like a charm.”

We left the house walking hand in hand, like two loved up teenagers, giggling and teasing each other. I’d pull her against me once in a while to kiss her again, to the general amusement and surprise of people around us. I didn’t know such happiness was possible – I felt my chest so full that no space was left for regret or doubt.

We were talking about plans to spend Sunday together, when we heard the commotion. A loud crash, someone screaming – the air was thick with tension, harder to breathe in. I felt Claire gripping my hand one final time before she let go, prepared to face what was certainly coming around the corner.

A man with a black ski mask emerged from the sizable jewellery store, which had imposing diamond rings and golden necklaces peeking through the window displays. He carried a dark sports bag at his shoulder and in one hand sported a menacing revolver, while the other grabbed a shrieking shopkeeper by the hair. Blood dripped from the side of her head, where she had probably been pistol-whipped, her eyes blank with shock.

An alarm went off inside the store, an unnerving sound that made me shiver, the hairs on my arms erecting in fear.

The robber shouted something – a car was waiting near the curb, another masked man inside it. He forcefully pushed the woman against the sidewalk, her head bumping against the edge with a nauseating sound of crushed eggshells.

I think I screamed, trying to stop Claire from moving – I knew she would go. She had healed me times enough for me to know that she wasn’t capable of witnessing suffering without trying to interfere.

It happened in a second and yet I saw it in slow motion – how she kneeled next to the woman, trying to stabilize her neck, to evaluate her wounds, calling for her with the lips I just had kissed moments before. The man in the ski masked turned and looked at her, laughing at the sight of her unfruitful gestures – she held his gaze in defiance, insulting him with her sharp tongue.

I was already screaming before it happened – I could see it so clearly and yet I was powerless to stop it. The gunshot that announced the ending, loudest even than my heart breaking.

I ran to her, trying to catch her before she fell on her back. For a moment I thought he had missed her – but a drop of red appeared on the white of her dress, spreading quickly across her belly like a net of poison, a cloud of blood drenching the fabric.

She looked at me with her eyes wide open in painful shock. I sobbed and cried for help, trying to keep her with me through a stupor of despair, my hands pressing the wound as my heart’s blood left her body.

“Jamie.” Claire whispered weakly, searching my eyes. And I started to pray, as sirens wept around me.


Note: I know it’s angsty but - hey- it’s canon! :D

anonymous asked:

I know we're all excited for the printshop scene and what happens next, but the reunion I'm truly looking forward to is the one between Jamie and Bree. I'm aware Roger and Brianna are not fan favorites but I LOVE the relationship both of them build with Jamie over time, he really becomes a father for both of them. Jamie deserves all the good things, and I can't wait for his family to be whole again. And I *really* hope the show will not neglect Fergus as Diana did in the books. I love them all!

There was no doubt in her mind, from the first glimpse. She was at once surprised and not surprised at all; he was not quite what she had imagined—he seemed smaller, only man-sized—but his face had the lines of her own; the long, straight nose and stubborn jaw, and the slanted cat-eyes, set in a frame of solid bone. 

He moved toward her out of the maples’ shadow, and the sun struck his hair with a spray of copper sparks. Half consciously she raised a hand and pushed a strand of hair back from her face, seeing from the corner of her eye the matching gleam of thick red-gold. 

“What d’ye want here, lassie?” he asked. Sharp, but not unkind. His voice was deeper than she had imagined; the Highland burr slight but distinct. “You,” she blurted. Her heart seemed to have wedged itself in her throat; she had trouble forcing any words past it. 

He was close enough that she caught the faint whiff of his sweat and the fresh smell of sawn wood; there was a golden scatter of sawdust caught in the rolled sleeves of his linen shirt. His eyes narrowed with amusement as he looked her up and down, taking in her costume. One reddish eyebrow rose, and he shook his head. 

“Sorry, lass,” he said, with a half-smile. “I’m a marrit man.” 

He made to pass by, and she made a small incoherent sound, putting out a hand to stop him, but not quite daring to touch his sleeve. He stopped and looked at her more closely. 

“No, I meant it; I’ve a wife at home, and home’s not far,” he said, evidently wishing to be courteous. “But—” He stopped, close enough now to take in the grubbiness of her clothes, the hole in the sleeve of her coat and the tattered ends of her stock. 

“Och,” he said in a different tone, and reached for the small leather purse he wore tied at his waist. “Will ye be starved, then, lass? I’ve money, if you must eat.” 

She could scarcely breathe. His eyes were dark blue, soft with kindness. Her eyes fixed on the open collar of his shirt, where the curly hairs showed, bleached gold against his sunburnt skin. 

“Are you—you’re Jamie Fraser, aren’t you?” 

He glanced sharply at her face. 

“I am,” he said. The wariness had returned to his face; his eyes narrowed against the sun. He glanced quickly behind him, toward the tavern, but nothing stirred in the open doorway. He took a step closer to her. 

“Who asks?” he said softly. “Have you a message for me, lass?” 

She felt an absurd desire to laugh welling up in her throat. Did she have a message? 

“My name is Brianna,” she said. He frowned, uncertain, and something flickered in his eyes. He knew it! He’d heard the name and it meant something to him. She swallowed hard, feeling her cheeks blaze as though they’d been seared by a candle flame. 

“I’m your daughter,” she said, her voice sounding choked to her own ears. “Brianna.” 

He stood stock-still, not changing expression in the slightest. He had heard her, though; he went pale, and then a deep, painful red washed up his throat and into his face, sudden as a brushfire, matching her own vivid color. 

She felt a deep flash of joy at the sight, a rush through her midsection that echoed that blaze of blood, recognition of their fair-skinned kinship. Did it trouble him to blush so strongly? she wondered suddenly. Had he schooled his face to immobility, as she had learned to do, to mask that telltale surge? 

Her own face felt stiff, but she gave him a tentative smile. 

He blinked, and his eyes moved at last from her face, slowly taking in her appearance, and—with what seemed to her a new and horrified awareness—her height. 

“My God,” he croaked. “You’re huge.” 

Her own blush had subsided, but now came back with a vengeance. 

“And whose fault is that, do you think?” she snapped. She drew herself up straight and squared her shoulders, glaring. So close, at her full height, she could look him right in the eye, and did. 

He jerked back, and his face did change then, mask shattering in surprise. Without it, he looked younger; underneath were shock, surprise, and a dawning expression of half-painful eagerness. 

“Och, no, lassie!” he exclaimed. “I didna mean it that way, at all! It’s only—” He broke off, staring at her in fascination. His hand lifted, as though despite himself, and traced the air, outlining her cheek, her jaw and neck and shoulder, afraid to touch her directly. 

“It’s true?” he whispered. “It is you, Brianna?” He spoke her name with a queer accent—Breeanah—and she shivered at the sound. 

“It’s me,” she said, a little huskily. She made another attempt at a smile. “Can’t you tell?” 

His mouth was wide and full-lipped, but not like hers; wider, a bolder shape, that seemed to hide a smile in the corners of it, even in repose. It was twitching now, not certain what to do. 

“Aye,” he said. “Aye, I can.” 

He did touch her then, his fingers drawing lightly down her face, brushing back the waves of ruddy hair from temple and ear, tracing the delicate line of her jaw. She shivered again, though his touch was noticeably warm; she could feel the heat of his palm against her cheek. 

“I hadna thought of you as grown,” he said, letting his hand fall reluctantly away. “I saw the pictures, but still—I had ye in my mind somehow as a wee bairn always—as my babe. I never expected …” His voice trailed off as he stared at her, the eyes like her own, deep blue and thick-lashed, wide in fascination. 

“Pictures,” she said, feeling breathless with happiness. “You’ve seen pictures of me? Mama found you, didn’t she? When you said you had a wife at home—” 

“Claire,” he interrupted. The wide mouth had made its decision; it split into a smile that lit his eyes like the sun in the dancing tree leaves. He grabbed her arms, tight enough to startle her. 

“You’ll not have seen her, then? Christ, she’ll be mad wi’ joy!” The thought of her mother was overwhelming. Her face cracked, and the tears she had been holding back for days spilled down her cheeks in a flood of relief, half choking her as she laughed and cried together. 

“Here, lassie, dinna weep!” he exclaimed in alarm. He let go of her arm and snatched a large, crumpled handkerchief from his sleeve. He patted tentatively at her cheeks, looking worried. 

“Dinna weep, a leannan, dinna be troubled,” he murmured. “It’s all right, m’ annsachd; it’s all right.” 

“I’m all right; everything’s all right. I’m just—happy,” she said. She took the handkerchief, wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “What does that mean—a leannan? And the other thing you said?” 

“You’ll not have the Gaelic, then?” he asked, and shook his head. “No, of course she wouldna have been taught,” he murmured, as though to himself. 

“I’ll learn,” she said firmly, giving her nose a last wipe. “A leannan?” 

A slight smile reappeared on his face as he looked at her. 

“It means ‘darling,’ ” he said softly. “M’ annsachd—my blessing.” 

The words hung in the air between them, shimmering like the leaves. They stood still, both stricken suddenly with shyness by the endearment, unable to look away from each other, unable to find more words. 

“Fa—” Brianna started to speak, then stopped, suddenly seized with doubt. What should she call him? Not Daddy. Frank Randall had been Daddy to her all her life; it would be a betrayal to use that name to another man—any other man. Jamie? No, she couldn’t possibly; rattled as he was by her appearance, he had still a formidable dignity that forbade such casual use. “Father” seemed remote and stern—and whatever Jamie Fraser might be, he wasn’t that; not to her. 

He saw her hesitate and flush, and recognized her trouble. 

“You can … call me Da,” he said. His voice was husky; he stopped and cleared his throat. “If—if ye want to, I mean,” he added diffidently. 

“Da,” she said, and felt the smile bloom easily this time, unmarred by tears. “Da. Is that Gaelic?” 

He smiled back, the corners of his mouth trembling slightly. 

“No. It’s only … simple.” 

And suddenly it was all simple. He held out his arms to her. She stepped into them and found that she had been wrong; he was as big as she’d imagined—and his arms were as strong about her as she had ever dared to hope.