the lingering stare

anonymous asked:

IDK if you saw the post about how, before the Death Star plans were captured, the asset Bail was sending was *Leia herself* to Obi-Wan. But I'd like an AU based on that. No Death Star Plans, only a 19-year-old-girl strong in the Force, trying to beat the Empire.

She didn’t—

Luke cocked his head, watching the girl in white move through the marketplace. He couldn’t figure out what it was about her, why one minute he had been engrossed in Waing’s new shipment of power converters and the next he was staring at her, totally unable to tear his eyes away. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d gone from one to the other, except he had, and now he was watching her. It was important he watch her, he knew it was important, though he couldn’t figure out how he knew that, or why.

It wasn’t that she stood out—sure, no one wore robes of that clean white, not unless they had a lot of slaves or droids to do the laundry for them, and yeah, she was the sort of pale you generally only saw in traders, who spent more time in artificial grav than sunslight. But she could be a water merchant’s daughter slumming it in Toshe, or an off-worlder, taking in the sights. (Not that they had many sights to see in Toshe, Luke thought with a snort.) And nobody else seemed to notice her; she stopped at Kinqua’s stall and dipped her fingers into the bowl Kinqua left out for tasting, and lifted it to her lips, licked the droplets away.

Luke had seen Kinqua casually lop off a child’s hand for that.

Skywalker,” Waing said, startling Luke out of his thoughts. “You made a decision? Or are you just going to keep feeling up my tech until it agrees to go home with you?”

“Cool your drives, Waing,” Luke said mildly, but he was still staring at the girl in white. She had two droids trundling after her, he realized belatedly—an astromech and a protocol droid, though he couldn’t make out what they were saying at this distance. Their lights were flashing, though, and he wished he could read visual binary.

“Oh, I see,” Waing said after a minute, and Luke could hear them smirking. “My tech isn’t all you’re hoping to take back to the Whitesun-Lars homestead.”

Luke felt his face go hot, and he forced himself to look back at Waing. They were smirking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said coolly, but he couldn’t focus on the power converters anymore. The girl in white, had she—

“Pardon me.”

This close it was abundantly obvious that she wasn’t from Tatooine—no one from this planet carried that air of interestingness with them, like they had a secret that might change the whole course of your life. She must be an off-worlder. “I’m looking for Obi-Wan Kenobi. Do you know where I might find him? I was told he lives near here—”

“Old Ben?” Luke cut in, before Waing could answer. “Do you mean Old Ben?”

The girl in white looked at him for a long moment, and Luke felt the back of his neck heating up. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “Is he near here?”

“Oh, sure,” Luke laughed, more out of relief than anything else. “Old Ben’s just a few klicks from here, he lives near the western gorge—I could take you, if you want,” Luke said quickly, because she looked increasingly put-out, and he felt something in his chest twinge in answer to it.

But she shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, but this is a personal matter.”

“It’ll cost you serious credits if you charter a speeder,” Luke said. “I’m headed that way anyway, let me take you. And your droids. Really,” he said, because she still looked uncertain. “It’s no trouble.”

She looked at him for a long moment, and her dark eyes were very serious. (He liked her eyes, for no particular reason he could figure out.) “My name is Leia,” she finally said, sticking her hand out. 

“Luke,” Luke laughed, taking it and shaking it. It was cool and smooth, and if he’d needed any confirmation she was from off-world, that was it. “Skywalker. My uncle owns a moisture farm in the eastern hemisphere.”

“I’m—not from around here,” she said, and Luke almost laughed because—well, obviously.

“Consider yourself lucky,” Luke said, and something of her tiredness and tightness (why did he know she was tired, down to her bones?) eased. She smiled back, a small smile. Luke counted it as a victory.

“I am C-3PO,” the protocol droid cut in, sticking his head between them as though it would stop them from looking at one another. He was burnished gold, and in the high sunslight it hurt to look at him. “And this is my companion, R2-D2.”

The astromech whistled a greeting, and Luke laughed. “Pleasure to meet—all of you. My speeder’s docked by the Ithorian, if you want…?”

“Hey, Skywalker, aren’t you going to buy anything?” Waing interrupted, and Luke winced, barely managing to tear his eyes away from Leia, who was still smiling, very slightly.

“Sorry, uh—maybe next week?” Luke offered lamely, but he was already ushering Leia and her droids away, and he could hear her laugh, very softly. (His chest fell too full, hearing it.)

It felt strange, formal and right, to help her into the speeder. Her hand in his was a kind of symmetry, inexplicable, the way he knew how a speeder was supposed to fit together, how a full tank of moisture sounded when you rapped it with a knuckle. Organic and totally without reason, their hands fitting together. She still hadn’t told him her surname, if she had a surname. Where she was from. What she was doing here. What her droids were doing here.

Luke couldn’t help but trust her utterly. Otherwise, why did her hand feel like that, resting in his?

What do you need to see Old Ben for?” Luke shouted over the rush of air around the speeder.

I told you,” Leia shouted back. The white hood she wore had fallen back, and her hair was dark. Even carefully styled, those loops over her ears, strands came loose, whipping around her face. “It’s personal!”

They stopped at the farm first, just to refuel and drop off the handful of things Luke did buy—rations, holonews downloads, some sucrose-candies for Aunt Beru. But when they touched down, Owen went white beneath his sunsburn, staring at Leia like she was a creature from another galaxy. “Your Highness,” he breathed, and Luke had to correct him, just an off-worlder looking for Old Ben; don’t pay her any mind. Look, Uncle Owen, I brought you your Almanac—

Leia was silent; picking at a loose thread in her white, white robes.

(Afterwards, she was silent, her arms crossed over her waist. They sped across the desert, which was gathering dark by the armful. “Sorry,” Luke said, trying to keep himself from shivering, “I know it gets cold at night.”

“It’s all right,” Leia said. “On—my planet, it snowed. We had mountains, and we would build whole castles out if it, out of snow. It was beautiful.”

“I’d like to see snow,” Luke said, but he thought it was lost in the sound of the speeder, because she didn’t reply.)

By the time they reached Old Ben’s place, it was dark enough for a lamp to be burning, the light spilling beneath the door and out the window. Luke watched as Leia knocked on the daub doorframe, shivering.

Still, it was worth staying just to watch the flicker of Old Ben’s expression from surprise to shock when he greeted her. He called her by a name that was definitely not ‘leia’ and Luke watched her shoulders hitch. “No,” Leia said finally. “I am Leia Organa, Princess of Alderaan. I am the daughter of Queen Breha Organa and Viceroy Bail Organa, and I am—I am here to beg your aid for the rebellion.”

Luke wasn’t so surprised that he didn’t notice Ben’s eyes cut to him, and then away.

“Princess,” Ben said finally, with an awful heaviness. Luke had brought him ration packs and listened to his stories he had never sounded like that before, like it was something awful and deep beyond saying. “If they sent you to find me, they must be very desperate.”

“No,” she said quickly, and Luke knew she was lying. “No, but—we need Jedi. We cannot go forward, we cannot fight, if the Force is not with us.”

This time, Old Ben’s stare lingered on Leia, then on Luke. He seemed to be making up his mind about something, though Luke couldn’t say what. Old Ben had always struck him as a sort of harmless religious sort; in another world he might have been a Jedi like in the stories, but instead he was a desert madman, talking to the air and clutching at a bit of carbon tubing like it was a lightsaber.

There was nothing harmless about the way he was looking at them now.

“I’ve been happy here,” Old Ben muttered, quietly, like an apology.

“Fine,” Leia said, almost a snarl. Luke could only see her in silhouette, against the light from Old Ben’s hut. He thought suddenly of a predator, something that could leap on the unsuspecting. “But no one ever promised us happiness.”

Luke could see Old Ben’s throat work. “Come in,” he said at last. His gaze darted to Luke, and Luke caught his breath. “What I have to say is—for both of you, now.”

Luke shut off the speeder.

(He had followed Leia into Old Ben’s hut, and didn’t come out the same man. No, not the same man at all.)

highlights of 4x10
  • Indra’s “you are my people” still gets me
  • dad!Kane
  • those nice lingering Bellarke stares
  • Blake sibling moments!!!
  • Gaia and Indra!!!! Sometimes you just need your mama
  • Bellamy hates Echo so much I live for his snide comments about her
  • Ilian is like a little flying squirrel!! (RIP 😭)
  • BELLAMY WAS LEGIT GONNA KILL ECHO IM WET
  • “I could hear you all the way down the street” omg Roan just kiss him already
  • ROAN BANISHED ECHO IM WET
  • “You tell her I was the lucky one” I’m actually gonna cry Bellamy is the best brother in the world Octavia doesn’t deserve him
  • Black rain ex machina
  • Luna is actually horrifying wtf…
  • …okay Octavia okay…it only took a bunch of murder to get you kinda back on the right track
  • CLARKE MADE SURE BELLAMY WAS IN THE BUNKER SHE LOVES HIM SO MUCH
  • OH WAIT
  • THIS WAS SO FUCKED UP BUT OH MY GOD
  • THIS IS SOOOOOOOO FUCKED UP IM ACTUALLY KINDA MAD I JUST CANT STOP TYPING
  • AND HOLY SHIT THAT PROMO
  • WHAT THE FUUUUCK
Lock the Door

Jungkook
Genre: Smut
Word Count: 3980-ish
In hindsight, maybe you weren’t that sorry for not locking the door.

A/N: Holy fuck, this is some extra shit. Read at your own risk. The Kook thirst is real. I had this half-written for a while, and then I got a request that was quite similar, so I thought I’d finish it. I might have a thing for the way Kook says ‘noona.’ Shit.

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

You knew it was a bad habit, not locking the bedroom door. But locking doors inside your own house had never been required before – growing up, it was discouraged (courtesy of living in a one-bathroom house) – and you didn’t really expect anyone to come barging into your bedroom when you lived in your own apartment.

Then again, you hadn’t expected to have seven rowdy boys hanging out in your small living room that evening, and that happened so…

Okay, you should’ve locked the bedroom door.

But you didn’t.

And that was how you ended up scarring Jeon Jungkook for life. Ish.

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to kill a king | (m)

pairing: taehyung x reader
genre:
smut
warnings:
kinda semi public smut i guess, gambling
wordcount:
5.7k

A game of poker is what you come for - but you soon realize, the real prize you want is the infamous player named V. Who will win the game?

Originally posted by hoshikio

It’s electrifying.

The atmosphere, charged with caution and rigged luck.

Bitter chuckles, mocking taunts, mumbled curses and the sweet sound of chips clattering. Crowds around tables, blinking slot machines, shouts about bets. There is a tension in the air, the one caused by taking risks and the cold sweat that comes with it. A final check is made somewhere over there and the gathered bystanders applaud. It nearly drowns out the smooth jazz filling the background but it’s nothing you pay attention to anyway.

No, the click of your heels on the stone floor does not halt at the commotion of the countless tables, lecherous greed roused up by cheering masses, waving money, placing bets, losing or winning it all. Those games hold no interest to you, way too public, too exposed, too little to win.

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All Too Well | Pt. 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue

Summary: You and Yoongi shared a loving relationship with one another until you both agreed to end things and pursue your separate careers. But two years later, Yoongi is a member of the ever growing Bangtan Boys, and you are a new makeup artist for their upcoming tour.
Pairing: Yoongi | Reader
Genre: Fluff/Angst/Smut; Idol & Makeup Artist AU
Word Count: 5,848

.

Min Yoongi knew he was royally fucked as soon as he stepped through the doorframe into the dance studio—a time that seems so long ago, while in reality it’s barely been more than a week since the unthinkable happened.

The unthinkable, taking the form of hair he’s run his fingers through, a jacket he’s peeled off, skin he’s nipped at, shoes that led to daily departures, eyes that filled with tears, a heart that he’s broken, words that crushed his own.

It had been 2 years since he had last seen you or heard from you, and yet he responded so intensely to the mere sight of your backside that some people would have thought it had only been 2 weeks since you last saw each other. Or maybe even 2 hours, especially taking into consideration the way his heart lurched, the memories bubbling up so quickly across his consciousness as if they never truly had time to settle below the surface.

Just like the very first time he ever saw you during his street performances, the first time he talked to you to ask you out for coffee, the first date, the first kiss, the first time—they’ve all been moments in his life that made him feel like his heart had been set aflame, knocked him off his guard. Yet, they’ve all been moments in his life that consistently remained special and important to him, times that contradicted his initial belief that his existence would never matter to anyone. It was the first time someone had ever looked at him as if he had created the world and all its beauty within the confines of his own two hands. You made the time he wasn’t an idol, the time he spent longing and daydreaming and yearning for a better future, significant. You made his life mean something.

Until he abandoned you, so desperate to create a name for himself that he thought that belief would be enough to drive you out of his mind and therefore out of his life.

Yoongi has always loved you just as much as he loved his career—if not more.

And now you were back in his life, your physical presence haunting him even as you stood mere inches away from him, telling Bang Si-Hyuk that he didn’t need to worry about any sort of implication or possibility happening between the two of you, that the two of you were no longer under an qualms of being serious, that you had made the best of the life he left you behind with.

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{PART 10} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut 

Summary; As Jungkook watches you become more acquainted with cousin, he also manages to share some of his worries concerning you; with Taehyung being able to draw out Jungkook’s true heart of the whole situation.

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

{Part 1}// {Part 9} {Part 10} {Part 11}

Keep reading

Reminder during hiatus of latest Destiel canon:


12x03 - 12x09 Dean is illogically pissy with Cas for teaming up with Crowley.

12x15 - Dean is illogically pissed that Cas is looking into Angel killings. Again.

Dean is believed to be Castiel’s weakness and mirrored as his love interest by Ishim.

Dean would rather put himself in danger from Ishim than risk danger to Cas.

Dean isn’t angry that Cas cares about them so much he put himself in danger, he is worried.

Cas says I love you while avoiding eye contact with anyone. The camera pans only to Dean.

Cas says I love all of you looking at Sam then finally a lingering stare at Dean.

The camera pans to Dean. His lip wobbles for the second time that day, the first being when Cas told him he was dying.

Dean threatens Crowley, Sam and Dean both risk themselves to try to save Cas.

Dean can’t watch Cas in his final moments and looks like he may even be praying.

Crowley saves Cas, looks to Dean and says ‘you’re welcome’.

Dean tells Cas they’re going home.

Mary is the reason Cas almost died. For the colt. Which she didn’t admit to when they were looking for a cure for Cas. Which Sam used to kill the Alpha.

Dean doesn’t know all this.

Cas leaves home ‘for the greater good’ and Dean is pissy about it. Again. Undertones of worry re: end of 12x10.

Meanwhile Dean thanks Crowley sincerely for saving Cas.


Bonus Dean focused 'things that are important’:

Dean canonically is underneath it all a sweet, soft man who is kind to Rowena, loves Disney films and cartoons, riding Larry, is up for 'live skinemax’ and is still a badass hunter even with no memories.

His facade has been coming down small piece by small piece all season.

We have heard NO(?) rock music since ‘Rock never dies’ - interesting metaphor.

Cas and Crowley are the only main characters who haven’t lied to Dean’s face this season.

Dean is an excellent lie detector and strategist and generally reads people very well…


This is like 4 episodes worth of stuff guys. This season is intense.

Three Questions

Prompt: What was it like to love him? What was it like to be loved in return? What was it like to lose him?

Pairing: Lin x reader

Warning(s): Angst, cussing, and mentions of sex (the closest I’ll ever do to a Lin smut, tbh).

A/n: Oh boy, here we are at Day 3 of the write-a-thon). This was the prompt (and the AU one too) that I was looking forward to the most and made me decide to participate. Rather than a book, I decided to choose my favorite poem of all time (which is also what my blog is named after) by Lang Leav. I adapted the poem into a story. I hope you guys enjoy!


 

What was it like to love him? Asked Gratitude.

You sigh when you spot a figure slouched over a desk, their soft snores disturbing the silence of the library. It was a common sight to see a student asleep at the library, regardless of what day of the week it was. There were always going to be students cramming for a test or starting an assignment due the next day that would fall asleep from exhaustion. Upon closer inspection, you realize he wasn’t a student – his face was too mature and clothes too nice to be a fellow peer.

However, like the old saying goes: you don’t have to go home, you just can’t stay here. The library was closing in five minutes and after a full day of classes before coming straight to work, you were ready to go home and relax.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt, but the library is closing soon,” you say, gently shaking the sleeping man’s shoulder.

He groans and brushes away your hand before going back to sleep.

You scoff and try again. “Please don’t make me call campus security on you, sir.”

At the mention of the authorities, he groans but lifts his head from the book he was resting his head on. He wipes the drool from the corner of his lips and blinks up owlishly at you. “What time is it?” he murmurs.

Your breath catches at his voice, low and gravelly with sleep. You were always a sucker for attractive voices, and this stranger just happened to have the kind you loved the most.

“It’s almost 3 A.M.,” you say, watching as his eyes grow wide, “the library is closing now.”

He jumps up from his seat and stuffs his notebook and laptop into his backpack. “I’m so sorry, I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

“No, it’s alright, it happens all the time,” you assure him.

He sighs in relief and picks up the book on the table, which to your surprise, had an interesting topic that was very dear to your heart.

“A book about the first treasury secretary?” you muse, “Either you’re a history major or have a very weird taste in books.”

He grins. “I guess I’m the latter.”

You snort at his answer and watch as he heads for the exit after wishing you a good night.

-

To your surprise, he was back the next day. You were pushing a cart of books, returning them to their respective spots, when you see him huddled in an alcove. This time, more books about Alexander Hamilton were accompanied with books about James Madison and Thomas Jefferson.

“The Southern Democratic-Republicans?” you laugh, “you do know that they didn’t get along with Hamilton, right?”

His head jerks up from his notebook on his lap, eyeing you intensely. “I do. The question is, how do you know?”

You try not to squirm under his gaze. “I’m a History major with a focus in American History.”

A smile slowly spreads across his face. “Well, what are the odds,” he laughs, the sound making your stomach flutter, “mind if I bother you with a few questions?”

You clutch the handle of the cart tightly, feeling nervous and excited. “Only if you tell me what’s it for.”

His smile gets bigger. “I’m writing a musical about Alexander Hamilton.”

You push the cart aside. “I’m in.”

He chuckles and scoots over, patting the empty space next to him. You step around his books and take the spot.

“My name is Lin-Manuel, but you can call me Lin,” he says warmly, sticking his hand out for you to shake.

You take his hand, trying not to shake from his proximity and the tingling sensation of desire that you felt for him. You were always the type that fell too easily and too fast, a recipe for disaster, but the sincerity and friendliness that you saw in his eyes made you believe that maybe, this time would be different.

“My name is Y/N. It’s lovely to meet you, Lin.”

It was like being exhumed. And brought to life in a flash of brilliance.



 

What was it like to be loved in return? Asked Joy.

It was during one of your writing sessions with Lin, weeks after meeting, that he first kissed you.

You were explaining to him Alexander’s childhood struggles, the challenges that he endured as he rose his way to the top, and the bizarre parallel of his life to Aaron Burr’s.  When he was still silent after you finished, you became worried. Was it too much? Did he need you to clarify a specific part?

Your fears melted away once you saw the tender look on his face.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, brushing away a stray hair that escaped from your bun. Without another word, he leaned forward and captured your lips for a kiss. You whimpered, and it spurred him on, his hands cupping your head to kiss you deeper.

Your heart did cartwheels, happy that he felt the same way towards you. The lingering stares, how his hands would purposely brush against yours when you both looked over a book, and how he’d rest his arms on your shoulders and lean towards you when you’d talk… It was all because he adored you too.

Your first kiss with Lin awakened something delicious – a dangerous spark that made your body hum in excitement.

From then on, Lin would wine and dine you in the late hours of the night, conversations about Alexander Hamilton long forgotten. You shared your dreams, your struggles, stories about your childhood with each other.

The spark ignited a flame, an even more hazardous burn that made your heart and soul feel alive.

During the nights where he felt adventurous, he’d fuck you hard against the bookshelves, whispering dirty words in your ears as he covered your mouth with his hands to muffle your moans. Most of the time, however, he’d take his time loving you in a bed, staring deep into your eyes as he thrust into you.

You press your cheek against his damp chest, relishing in the afterglow of sex.

“I love you,” you whisper, the words feeling so natural, so true.

Lin’s hand slides down to rest on the curve of your back and presses you closer to him.

“I love you too.”

It was like being seen after a perpetual darkness. To be heard after a lifetime of silence.


 

What was it like to lose him? Asked Sorrow.

It was a rare weekend where you didn’t spend time with Lin, so you decided to go grocery shopping – a task that you haven’t had time for since your whirlwind romance began.

You were quietly humming the tune to one of Lin’s songs as you pondered over which fruit you wanted to buy: oranges or apples?

“Honey, didn’t I tell you to take it easy? Stop lifting heavy things, you know it’s not good for the baby.”

Your lips quirk up in a smile at the conversation, finding it adorable how affectionate the husband was to his wife. For a brief second, you let yourself daydream, imagining a baby girl that had Lin’s curious eyes and your hair or a boy that had his nose and your penchant for learning.

“Lin, I’m the one carrying the baby. Don’t you think I know what’s good and not good for him?”

Lin?

“I know but – “

There was no mistaking it.

That was his voice.  

You whirl around, dropping your basket of groceries when you see the scene before you.

Lin was standing next to his obviously pregnant wife, softly reprimanding her as she lifted a watermelon from the display.

Lin had a wife… and a baby on the way.

Your world came crashing down on you.

Lately, you’ve had a strange feeling in your gut, as if something big was looming over the horizon, whenever you spent time with Lin. You chalked it off and blamed it on your inexperience, your insecurity, and fear of loving someone so much for the first time in your life.

But now it all made sense.

He’d insist on spending nights in hotel rooms or even your own apartment, claiming that his apartment was too small and cluttered, failing to mention the fact that he had another woman waiting for him in his bed. He’d always spend time with you late at night until early dawn (you thought it was sweet that he worked around your schedule), never during the day. But truthfully, it was the perfect time where he could escape from his pregnant wife. You thought that his habit of touching his ring finger with his thumb was endearing – a quirky trait that made Lin so cute and special – but now you realize it was because the weight of his wedding ring was no longer there.

You felt sick.

You stagger backward, hitting the fruit display, causing a heap of apples to tumble to the ground.

A single apple rolled towards them, stopping their conversation, and Lin looks up to see the cause of the runaway fruit.

You stood there, frozen, as a flash of recognition danced across his eyes.

It really was him.

To your horror, he didn’t acknowledge you. Instead, he wrapped his arms around his wife and leads her further into the grocery store, leaving you behind without a second glance.

His stories, laughter, and declarations of love were all lies.

Your heart shatters into a million pieces.

You were a fool.

It was like hearing every goodbye ever said to me – said all at once.

Newt Scamander Sexy Headcanons

Tags

@loeigh@calumbeans@sailorchibimoonunicorn@marvel-fanfiction@sammnipple

Masterlist-More Newt Headcanons-More Newt

Originally posted by bethereinagiphy

Newt While Horny

~ He will somehow stop fidgeting as he usually does, which is your first indicator

~ Lots of lingering stares

~ Not so subtle hints to you

~ Neck kisses

~ N e c k k i s s e s 

~thigh squeezes underneath the table

Newt Make-Out Sessions

~ He’s the dom one when it comes to this 

~ Tongue galore; not in a bad way, god, no, just the right amount to where every nerve in your body is electrified

~ Newt loves giving hickies all over you; about your neck, your chest, you jaw

~ He’ll cup his hands underneath your thighs, lifting you up onto the table for better balance

~ Sweet talk

~ “You’re so beautiful” “How do I deserve you?” “I love you more than I could have ever loved anything or anyone” “You are what I live for and you are what I will die for”

~ and then he fingers you

Quickies With Newt

~ Being desperately pushed up against a wall, his hands around your body as though his only mindset is to protect and pleasure you

~ Quickly thrusting in and out, leaving you to moan loudly while your slick walls tighten around him

~ He would whisper your name huskily into your ear, saying it like a prayer

~ Both of you melting together after the few moments of embrace, your thighs slick with his cum

The Honeymoon

~ slow and romantic dancing beforehand; Newt’s face buried in your neck. You can feel the wide smile on his face because “my love, we’re married!”

~ Then, as the music would die down on the record player, Newt would take your hand and lead you to the bed

~You would each take turns undressing each other, admiring the familiar slopes and curves of each body

~ Newt would kiss you gently, dragging his fingers through your hair before pushing his way inside you; it’s relieving to not have to worry about charms or protection because now you’re married and a pregnancy would be even more a blessing 

~ You would spend the night embraced in each other’s arms before watching the sunrise then sleeping all day long 

anonymous asked:

Dr Who but each incarnation is swapped with one of their companions.

omg?? I love it??

The First Doctor: 

She’s not completely unfriendly, exactly, she just doesn’t have time for humans being idiots. In the right circumstances, she can actually be very warm. She loves history, which is lucky because her granddaughter Susan does too (they tell people Susan is her daughter, but even then it’s a bit of a stretch, human ages are weird). Of course, then two of Susan’s teachers follow her home one night, and next thing the Doctor knows she has a crotchety old history teacher and a handsome young science teacher on her spaceship with no way to get rid of them that isn’t morally questionable. 

Whoops? 

The humans help her lose some of her haughtiness. She leaves Susan in the 22nd century to become her own woman. 

Along the way and against her better judgement, she falls hopelessly for Ian Chesterton. He wants to stay with her forever, but she knows it would never work, and encourages him to go with John Foreman in the Dalek Time Machine to get back to his own time. 

Later, in other lives, she checks in on him occasionally. 

The Second Doctor:

The baby face is a problem. It takes a good twenty minutes on a lot of occasions to get anyone to take her seriously. On the bright side, a lot of Polly’s clothes fit her now. 

She finds a best friend in Scotsman Jamie McCrimmon, whose rather naive approach to futuristic technology is extremely refreshing, as is his unique insightfulness. 

After Ben and Polly leave them, they rescue Victoria, who Jamie is utterly taken with. Victoria is unsure about living a life so unsupervised by someone older and won’t listen to the Doctor’s insistence that she is in fact perfectly qualified to look after them all. 

She and Victoria spend a good many nights aboard the TARDIS talking about women’s history and the things to come for women in the future and how women act on other planets. Victoria is fascinated, occasionally horrified, and often quietly thrilled at the things she learns. 

It’s a shame to see her go, but all she ever wanted was a family and security, and the Doctor can’t provide that. 

They meet an eccentric man on a space station, with funny trousers and an obsession with the recorder. The Doctor and Jamie like him instantly, and invite him on board only to learn that the man had been considering stowing away if not invited. 

The Time Lords take her friends away from her. She is forced to regenerate and exiled to Earth, as punishment for her interference. 

The Third Doctor: 

Shrewd, passionately devoted to science, and not one to take kindly to interruptions or anyone trying to talk down to or even disagree with her, it’s a wonder the Doctor even gets hired by UNIT at all. But then again, beggars can’t be choosers. 

On the bright side, this fellow John Smith from Cambridge seems to be the one person around with an actual brain and not just a penchant for attacking first and thinking later. 

They’re friends instantly. Or, they are once she makes it perfectly clear that she is the cleverer of the two. The look on his face when he realises is a memory she’ll treasure forever. 

He eventually leaves to go back to his own research, upon realising she doesn’t need him. 

It’s a shame and she misses him, but then Jo Grant comes into her life. Despite an awful first impression, the two women are soon fiercely devoted to each other. Jo keeps going on about women having to stick together amongst all the army boys, and while the Doctor could usually not care less about gender politics, if it means Jo hangs around her more, then so be it. 

The Master turns up. It’s exhausting and exasperating and oh so much fun

Meanwhile, the Doctor’s told herself to not let herself fall for humans, after how much Ian hurt. But with Jo, it’s impossible not to. (Not that she hasn’t noticed the Brigadier’s lingering stares, or failed to appreciate him in his uniform. But he’s far too professional to ever do anything, and too trigger happy besides.) 

Jo is like sunshine and she’s always there and smiling and pressing herself against the Doctor out of fear or shock, until one day they’re in the supply closet of a spaceship and they’re kissing furiously instead of listening out for their pursuers. 

It’s wonderful, being with Jo. Until Clive Jones comes along, and the Doctor has to tell her to forget about her and marry the nice young man who can grow old with her and give her the life she wants. 

She drinks more champagne than she is proud of that night. 

Luckily, along comes Sarah Jane Smith, who is exactly the kind of human that the Doctor automatically adores. Inquisitive, sharp, and a vocal feminist. What a woman. 

Of course, then giant alien spiders happen, and it’s time for a change.  

The Fourth Doctor:

Or… not. Apparently, she’s doomed to be young, attractive, humanoid, and pale skinned throughout all her lives. There are worse fates, but she wouldn’t mind a little variety, frankly. And being so small is getting infuriating. 

Harry takes a long while to take her seriously, but once he does, he is steadfastly loyal. Sarah Jane takes the regeneration in stride for the most part. 

And after them, Leela, who is so strange and savage but so utterly charming in her honesty. They share a few kisses, but nothing more. 

Then comes Romana. A young Time Lord who looks older than her, is far taller than is sensible, and has an even more absurd grin. She can’t stand him, with his bragging about his grades and thinking he knows everything. 

She soon teaches him that experience wins every time. 

Of course, then he spots some pretty princess on Tara, and next thing she knows, the moment the whole Key To Time mess is sorted, Romana is now a less taller, less ridiculous, utterly beautiful Time Lady in her first regeneration. 

She tries to argue against what she can only consider body theft, or at least copying, but it is a relief to not have to crane her neck up to speak to her companion. 

Romana becomes a most dear friend. She’s missed being around someone like her, someone who understands. It makes it all the worse when she leaves, leaving the Doctor with only Adric and his incessant questions. 

The Fifth Doctor: 

There’s something about this body, a regality, that commands a little more respect than the ones before it, despite it following the pattern of her others. 

Adric’s questions exasperate her, while Tegan’s demands to be taken home are met with gentle requests for patience and promises of Heathrow airport, and this Traken prince she’s picked up is thankfully one of the most polite people she’s ever had in the TARDIS. Decent brain on him, too. 

Tegan’s smile sometimes makes her stomach do backflips. The Doctor ignores it. She’s learned her lesson. It’s almost a relief to see Tegan reach her breaking point and leave, except it isn’t, because for a long while it feels like a part of her is missing. 

Turlough is a curiosity, but a nice one who makes for surprisingly good company in the absence of the others. 

Perpugilliam Brown is a surprise. The Doctor remembers why she has tried to avoid America where possible in her travels. Americans are loud. But in the case of Peri, it involves shouting at the Master, and as such, the Doctor decides that Perpugilliam Brown can stay as long as she likes. 

Between the two of them and soon Erimem, uncrowned Pharaoh of Egypt, they make quite the team.  


The Sixth Doctor:

It’s about time! Finally, a more weathered model. Peri is surprised to say the least, and seems a little disappointed to lose out on her best friend who had until now looked a very similar age to her, but soon realises very little has changed. 

And now she lets the Doctor take care of her a bit better. Thank goodness for that! The maternal instincts in this body are absurdly strong, she has no idea what she would do if she couldn’t express them. 

Now, the borderline narcissistic but quietly lovable history professor she accidentally picks up some time after losing Peri is a trickier matter. Still, at least he shares her love for chocolate cake. 

The Seventh Doctor: 

Bright, bubbly, and able to get most people to like her within ten seconds. Now this is a regeneration she likes. Plus, her most impressive set of lungs yet. Handy, for calling companions who like to wander off. 

She tries to not encourage Ace’s use of explosives, but it’s difficult when she sees how genuinely happy they make the girl. She’s getting soft in her old age, she knows. 

Still, at least her brain makes up for it. She can out-think a computer, easily. The universe is her chessboard and she’ll do whatever the hell she pleases with it. 

The Eighth Doctor: 

She’s a jolly thing. Always keen for adventure, ready to shout at anyone who deserves it, and just wants to have a good time, really. 

After a rather rocky start involving amnesia and kissing the cardiologist who had caused her regeneration in the first place, the Doctor is just minding her own business when she accidentally messes with history. 

It seems that saving this stowaway on the R101 might not have been the best idea after all. But he’s so charming and sweet and genuine, sharing her utter passion for life, that by the time she realises her mistake, she’s not willing to part with him. 

That goes… about as well as one might expect. 

The Ninth Doctor: 

It’s funny, being a weathered old war veteran with a guilty conscience, and simultaneously looking like someone who could be on the front of a magazine. 

Life is hard, after the time war, but she meets a man with big ears and blue eyes and things get better. A lot better. It feels good to smile again. 

The addition of Captain Jack Harkness is an interesting one, but she’s always said the more the merrier. Their other companion is not quite as happy about this development, but before long they’re the best of friends. 

The Tenth Doctor: 

She’s gentler now, somehow. Oh, she has her anger and her snark, and boy does this body have a set of lungs on her. But she’s so much softer, underneath. 

Losing her friends from her last body takes its toll. She at least manages to avoid comparing Martha to them that came before her. Martha is wonderful, always completing even the most impossible tasks that the Doctor puts to her. They part on good terms, after the Master’s ravaging of the Earth. (The Master had not been so impressed with this version of her. He had trouble seeing the strength within, seeing that she was more than the duality of compassion and shouting.) Martha needs to look after her family, and that’s probably for the best. 

And then there’s the skinny idiot in the suit. He actually talks faster than she does, which is absurd, but she wonders if that’s simply because of his questionable family. Perhaps not letting them get a word in is how he survives. 

Either way, they get along like a house on fire. Losing him, wiping his memory and seeing him stare right through her and smile that stupid smile, is almost enough to break her. 

No more companions, she swears. 


The Eleventh Doctor: 

It’s all about fun, now. Impressing the little boy whose garden she crashes in and then impressing him when he’s grown up and has waited 14 years for her. (To hell with her rule about no more companions. Her old self was full of dumb ideas anyway.) 

Oh yes, she likes Rory Williams a lot. And his best friend John isn’t bad either. Mind you, that nose… 

She has her spaceship, and her boys, and life is good. Well, there’s River Song to worry about, but she can never be sure if the archaeologist is more interested in her or John. Just one more mystery, it seems. 

Losing Rory, and then John, is hard. But she knows that they’re happy, and that’s enough. 

The Twelfth Doctor:

Short, bossy, a control freak, and a slight obsession with tartan. Also, her English teacher companion is secretly a rock star wannabe, disguised as a reclusive Scottish nerd. 

What’s a girl to do? 

(Apparently, find out that her best enemy is alive, and now also female. And Scottish like her companion. The first kiss had been… shocking to say the least. The ones after, against her better judgement, decidedly less so.) 

She cares about her companion more than she will ever say, and when faced with losing him, takes things too far. Further than anyone should ever take anything. And when it is all said and done… she can’t remember his face, or his voice, or how he sounded when he mocked how large her eyes were. 

River is there to comfort her, though, in those 24 years on Darillium. 

And then Bill. Brilliant Bill. Oh yes, they make quite the team. And Nardole helps sometimes too. 

Send me an AU and I’ll expand on it! 

{PART 7} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; A whole week has passed since Jungkook was forced to leave your apartment, just before you could take your relationship with him to the next level. But today at the office, things become interesting yet again - for both you, and Jungkook.

{Part 1} // {Part 6} {Part 7} {Part 8}

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

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TalesFromRetail: Clumsiest theft attempt ever

About a month ago, I was supervising our store’s slow self checkouts when a girl about 20 years old approached me, my first contact with customers in almost half an hour.

Girl: Excuse me…

Me: *snaps out of daydreaming* Hm? What’s up?

She seemed pretty nervous, like she wasn’t sure exactly what she was asking.

Girl: I was just wondering…. I mean last time we tried to use these… I’m not good with these, you know? So I was wondering if you could like…. *trails off awkwardly*

Me: It’s ok, they can be moody machines sometimes. Whenever you’re ready to check out I can help you with it, ok?

Girl: Ok. Thanks. *walks away*

I did not trust her at all at this point. She came back ~5 minutes later with a dude, 2 cases of cupcakes, and a 2 liter of pop. They walked to a self checkout furthest from me and scanned the 2 liter but didn’t set it down, so it wouldn’t let them proceed. I walked over towards them and let them know they had to set the stuff down after scanning it.

I lingered near them because it was all so sketchy, and after a few seconds of stalling she looked at me and said “we’ll be alright now, but thanks,” clearly asking me to go away. I humored her and went back to my podium but there was no way in hell I was taking my eyes off of them until they were paid up and gone.

As soon as I got to my podium, the guy gave a halfhearted glance around and set a box of cupcakes in a bag, pulled the bag off the rack, and tucked it in a dark corner of the bagging rack out of sight. Of course my handheld and their register were both screaming that there’s weight in the bagging area, but they were still trying to keep scanning as if nothing was wrong and seemed pretty upset it wasn’t working.

So then they called me over to them.

Me: *walks over to them* *without hesitation I pull the hidden cupcakes out of their hiding spot* Looks like you didn’t scan these. Might have missed the barcode or something. *scans the cupcakes and sets them down* You’re good now.

They scanned their other cupcakes then stood and talked for a few minutes. After a few minutes the girl left while the guy lingered and stared at the screen. He finally voided one thing off, then told me he wanted the whole order canceled.

I did so. He reached for the bags and said he’d take them back for me. I told him I’d take care of it, snatched up all the bags before he could grab them, and told him to have a great day. And then he left…

Maybe it was just a distraction for some of their cohorts, who knows, but if not that had to have been the worst attempt at shoplifting I’ve ever witnessed…

By: occipital_spatula

Overtime

So, this is a sequel to my one and only Sam GIF drabble, which is being written because I’m a slut and wanted to write some smut and I was originally gonna write smut in that gif drabble until my wrist bitched out. So now that I have no excuse, here we go.

And shout-out to the ever-wonderful @saxxxology and @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid for reading and beta-ing this when I became convinced that it was shit. They’re the best ladies in the entire world.

Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Detective!Sam x Secretary!Reader
Inspiration: A GIF drabble inspired by a GIF from @sgarrett49
Words: 2,759
Summary:
Sam and the reader finally act on all that unresolved sexual tension, and his desk suffers for it
Warnings: Pure, unadulterated desk fucking. There’s no plot. Plot has died. Plot has no place here. Only porn.

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anonymous asked:

Nalu 23?

23. eat a banana without breaking eye contact

For three minutes Lucy had been sitting watching Natsu eat. He hadn’t eaten for hours, an unusual occurrence for her pink haired partner. Currently, he is making up for it by eating the spare snacks she had packed for their quest. His back resting against a rock opposite her, legs sprawled out as he dug his fingers into the top of a banana.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Lucy flicked her eyes from the fruit to him. They had been playing a dangerous game the past few days. Starting out with the exchange of horrible pickup lines, escalating to fleeting touches and lingering stares. No rules had been set, but she knew Natsu was winning. Lucy cursed how easy she was to fluster.  

Time to get her own back.

Crawling to him the action garnered Natsu’s attention, his brow furrowing.

“What’re ya’ doing Lucy,” He said, about to chow down on the fruit. Leaning into his space, supporting her weight on his leg, she touched her mouth to the tip. Holding eye contact, eyes hooded, she dragged her lips down. Reaching the peel, tongue slipping out, she licked the base.

The sweetness coating her taste buds, dark green eyes held her captive. Trailing upwards, she wrapped her lips around the top, taking the fruit into her cavern. Lucy sunk down half-way meeting the skin, purposefully groaning in enjoyment. Natsu’s leg started twitching under her hands, face showing a hunger that made her feel powerful.  

“Are you thinking of me?” A cheeky smirk accompanied the question.

Lucy choked, quickly finding Natsu’s mouth as dirty as his tactics. Her blush spreading from her ears and down her throat, jaw clenching in embarrassment. Her game now destroyed, the fleshy body in her mouth.

“Would it kill you to let me win?” She sighed after swallowing, enjoying the flavour.  

“Who said you didn’t win?” Natsu said, brushing blond locks from her eyes.

“Although, I would prefer you didn’t bite my dick off.” Smile luminescent, he cackled.

“Natsu!”

infinite-salt-dispenser  asked:

boyf riends with 'is it bad i really want to kiss you right now?' ;0

“How do you like a machete to the FACE, ZOMBIE?!” Michael yelled, his body twisting wildly back and forth on his bean bag as if he himself were being attacked rather than just smashing the buttons on his controller.

Jeremy laughed under his breath, glancing at Michael out of the corner of his eye.  His stare lingered a little too long and, before he knew it, he couldn’t take his eyes away.

Jeremy watched Michael fondly, smiling when Michael scrunched his nose in concentration.  Michael cheered, throwing his hands up in the air, continuing to abuse his controller, that large, dopey grin of his overtaking his lips.  

Jeremy practically melted.  His hands fell to his lap, his controller completely forgotten.  His cheeks turned pink as he carefully watched Michael’s features as they turned from excited, anger, anxiety, and back to excitement.  And the way Michael would stick his tongue out when he was really concentrated…; it drove Jeremy up the wall.  

“Jeremy, what’re you doing?!” Michael cried, not daring to tear his eyes from the screen as he fought to protect both his and Jeremy’s characters lives.  

Jeremy knew he should return to the game, he knew he was going to get caught staring, but he just couldn’t look away.  

He loved Michael; everything about him.  Loved, loved, loved.

His soft, warm skin, his fluffy hair that was messy and disheveled in the most perfect way, his beautiful bright eyes, his lips, oh God, his lips.  Michael’s lips were so soft and inviting and all he wanted to do was kiss him till he couldn’t kiss no more.

“JEREMY!” Michael exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air when the screen turned to the ‘game over’ screen, playing the defeat tune.  “What happened, we were doing so good!”  Michael turned to Jeremy, losing his train of thought when he saw the dazed look in Jeremy’s eyes.  

“Is it bad I really wanna kiss you right now?” Jeremy murmured, feeling his blush grow.

“I, erm, yes,” Michael stated firmly.  “Considering we have been stuck on this level for two weeks and you just lost us a level up, then yes, it is bad.”

Jeremy smiled nervously, pulling at the front of his shirt.  Oops…

But,” Michael continued, “maybe that kiss will help me forgive you?”  

“You are so embarrassing,” Jeremy murmured, scooching from his bean bag to Michael’s.

I’m embarrassing?” Michael scoffed as Jeremy placed a kiss on his cheek.  “I’m not the one who went ass Romeo and Juliet star crossed lovers here.  And that,” Michael said, pointing to his cheek, “was a lame ass apology kiss.”

“B-be quiet,” Jeremy replied, taking the front of Michael’s sweatshirt in his hands and pulling him into a proper kiss.

The Sleepover

I realized that although I put the link on here for the A03 fic, I never actually posted the fic on here, so, without further adieu, a Bughead Sleepover.


“Hey!” Betty crossed the short distance to where Jughead was sitting in a booth at Pop’s. “I was hoping I’d find you here.”

Jughead had seen Betty coming through the door and hadn’t been able to wipe the smile off his face since. He picked up his coffee and took a sip, then set it back in it’s place. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I have a surprise for you.” Betty smiled. She got back up and stood at the counter. “Hey, Pop? Could we get an order of french fries please?”

Pop Tate smiled and nodded at her, and Betty turned to sit down with Jughead.

Jughead stared at her for just a moment before laughing. “Well? Are you going to give me a hint?”

Betty returned his smile. “No, you’ll just have to wait and see.”

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A Wild Night in Vegas -- Part 13

Here’s the next installment! This is a new record for myself and @outlandishchridhe - 14 PAGES!! I’ll put it below a cut so it doesn’t take up vast amounts of space on all your dashes. If it doesn’t work, as always, let me know and I’ll see if I can get it to you somehow. 

We always have so much fun writing this story and adore all the comments we get from you guys. Writing this is always a source of peace and rest from our hectic lives. Thanks for following along with us in this crazy journey!

Part 12


Fraser Bairn Watch: Month 7

“Miss Beauchamp? A word please?”

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