the mental conversation between these two that went through my head

anonymous asked:

Hey! If you're still taking prompts, could you write about neil and Andrew having a conversation about Neil's past? Like the stuff he had to do to survive and the stuff he went through with the worlds shittiest parents? Also I'm pretty sure neil has killed people like it makes complete sense so maybe andreil talking about that?

There’s a band of pale blue light nipping at the tops of the trees and sharpening the silhouettes of the houses, but everything else is fresh and dark. Andrew smokes with the pack clenched in his fist, the cherry of the cigarette winking at the street lamps winking at the orange moon.

Their front porch isn’t like the rush of the rooftop, but he can get that same jitter of fear from Neil nowadays, and he’s more portable. He’d left him knotted in the bedsheets an hour ago, and knowing he’s inside somewhere at his back is burning him up. Andrew inhales and focuses on the exhale, the way the smoke still tries to hurt him when it should’ve given up. He likes that nicotine doesn’t leave him alone.

Neil slips out the front door and lets the screen door clatter, and Andrew knows that he’s upset before he sits down two steps below Andrew, holding his own head.

He doesn’t ask; just smokes fervently. The moon bobs its head sympathetically, wind catches the smoke and breaks it over Neil’s head like water on rocks.

It occurs to Andrew that Neil isn’t going to start this conversation, because he likes to think things through on his own, solve them wrong, and tell Andrew about his mistakes later. He’s insufferably convinced of his own problem-solving abilities, then obsessed with the mechanism of his own missteps.

“What?” Andrew asks impatiently. He flicks ash from his cigarette and holds it out in front of Neil’s face. Neil sidles through his own tangled thinking for long enough to glance up. He leans forward and sucks the smoke from between Andrew’s fingers.

When he looks away, gusting smoke from his open mouth, he says, “Matt called. We fought.”

You fought,” Andrew guesses.

Neil looks agitated, blue in the choked light, eyes black and furious. “He was being unfair. He keeps trying to tell me what’s right or wrong lately, because he thinks I’ve been— been deprived, like my experiences were outside of humanity, or morality, and it’s so— condescending.”

“You’re only realizing this now? All of the foxes are condescending. It is the only way they can avoid their own failure.”

“This was different,” Neil says, shaking his head. “I can tell when they’re saying things because they want to see my reaction, and this wasn’t that. He meant what he was saying.”

“And what was that?”

Neil goes gagged silent. He shifts backwards up to Andrew’s stair without looking at him, settling into the groove worn into the wood.

“That killing someone makes you a monster. That murder is the worst thing you can do to a person.”

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Ink my Skin

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Rating: Teens and Up
Summary: Steve wants to draw on Reader’s skin and she doesn’t expect what she sees in the mirror.
Word Count: 1.5k
Genre: Fluff!
Warnings: none.

Special thank you to @punkrockhippiefromthefourties for being my beta! xx

Originally posted by baylee004

As you sat on one of the two armchairs in your bedroom, you tucked your leg under the other while your bare feet rested on the edge of the coffee table. You held your tablet in your hands with your earbuds in your ears, watching your favorite show on Netflix.

You had come back from an assignment only a few hours ago and all you wanted to do was have some time for yourself and your boyfriend, Steve. The breaks from work were rare since you had joined the Avengers a year and a half ago, but the good side was you had found a family and a loving boyfriend.

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Bygones of the Sun | 02 (M)

Originally posted by hobismole

Genre: Angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

Pairing: Reader x Hoseok

Length: 5.0k

Summary: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

01 | 02 | 03

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Frosting and Crushes

Summary: Newt has been distant the past week, focusing only on Tina and their work. You try to strike up conversation with him at dinner, but, after many failed attempts, grow irritated and leave early. Queenie decides to take matters into her own hands.

Word Count: 2,224

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Requested by Anonymous

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in


You sit at the dinner table with no goal but to enjoy the meal as Queenie flutters around, stirring pots with both her hands and magic. She already denied your offer to help, so you decided to pass the time talking with her. Newt had disappeared somewhere, probably inside the case, and you had immediately decided against a walk when you glanced at the growing grey clouds outside.

Inside is warm and cozy. You’re wearing your favorite gold sweater. The heat from the cooking keeps out the bite of chilly air rattling the windows. Queenie is humming a jazzy tune you’ve never heard before, only stopping to giggle at Jacob’s red face when he bumps into her.

“I’m sorry.” He says as his face turns a shade of tomato red.

“It ain’t a problem, honey.” Queenie doesn’t break a stride. “What is it you’re making?”

You’re pretty sure she asks it for your sake, given the sounds your stomach has been making since he stuck the pastries he’d spent all afternoon making into the oven, and the smell had spread throughout the small room.

“Special strawberry turnovers.”

“What makes them so special?” You ask, raising your voice over the bubbling, clanking, and simmering sounds filling the area.

“They’re my momma’s recipe. Filled with love and one other special ingredient.”

Queenie swings by Jacob with the pot of stew in hand. “I don’t think nutmeg is very secret, honey.” Five bowls float down into their places around the table as Queenie sets the stew in the center.

“I never said –“

“You don’t have to.” She smiles at him and lifts the pot’s lid.

The rich smell wafts over the table to you. You breathe it in, closing your eyes to revel in the memories it brings back. Your mother always made beef stew with potatoes and chopped carrots for special occasions. Mentally thanking Queenie, you slide your chair back and step toward the pot, scooping the stew in until it nearly sloshes out the side. Queenie merely smiles at you and twirls around Jacob.

She resumes her humming. The turnovers mix with the scent of the stew and your mouth waters. The windows shake, generating a beat that Queenie forms her music around. Jacob’s laugh fills the warm room, and your entire world, for once, is at peace.

Your content joy only expands when Newt walks in, messy auburn hair plastered against his forehead from the rain sprinkling outside, giant, beautiful smile stretched across his face. You glance at your stew, fighting the huge smile trying to break upon your face. Queenie kicks you under the table and, when you meet her gaze, lifts an eyebrow. You give a quick nod before staring back down at your food, trying to resist beaming.

The fight becomes much easier when Tina walks in behind Newt, also covered in water, smile upon her face.

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{PART 16} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; You begin to regret revealing all the details about your painful, tragic past to Jungkook. Meanwhile, Jungkook, Taehyung and Jimin share their knowledge with each other in the hopes of figuring out what intentions lie behind Yoongi’s actions.

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

{Part 1} // {Part 15} {Part 16} {Part 17}

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poems i would write you | shawn mendes

MY MASTERLIST

word count: 9,018 (i was gonna split this up, but decided to just keep it together. it’s long. put on your favorite sweatpants and grab that bag of hot cheetos you’ve been saving before you dig into this thing.)

author’s note: GUESS WHO’S BACK, BACK AGAIN? BERRY’S BACK, TELL A FRIEND. welcome to the first installment of my college!shawn series, which takes place during Y/N’s (that’s you) freshman year. it’s got fluff, angst, and some pretty stupid decisions on everyone’s part. title from “shot down” by khalid, as per a recommendation from @light-up-shawn. enjoy.


Your name: submit What is this?

i.

Upon your arrival to college, you had been on the receiving end of entirely too much advice from various relatives, older friends, and even strangers. Don’t walk alone at night, don’t sign up for eight AM classes, don’t drink the “jungle juice” at any frat parties.

Your parents had told you to focus on your studies and seek tutoring help if you needed it. Your sister had encouraged you to join a sorority to really be at “the heart” of university life, as if you knew what that meant. The only advice your cousin gave you was to always remember your room key and to pack a pair of shower shoes, the latter of which she accompanied with a shudder - you could piece together that anecdote on your own.

But nobody had prepared you for this particular problem.

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Coach

Summary: He always knew Dicky was different. Not bad different, just not like the rest of the boys in the neighborhood. A glimpse into the relationship of Coach and Bitty, and how Coach comes to terms with it all.  Also on AO3

Originally posted by harrimaniac27

“So, Dicky. Do you want to watch a movie?”

Coach was happy to have Dicky at home. His visits had become far and few between, a rare thing, ever since… well, recently. Suzanne was out with her bowling league, so it was just the two of them for the evening.

“Sure, Coach. What do you wanna see? I think Predator is about to start,” Bitty replied as he grabbed a bag of Brother Kane potato chips from the kitchen and settled into the couch.

He then took the remote and was browsing through the channel guide.

“Also Rocky III is on, uh… Casino. What else…”

Coach watched his son and smiled listening to the movie choices being offered to him.

He always knew Dicky was different.

Not bad different, just not like the rest of the boys in the neighborhood. When he was younger and the other coaches had their boys in pee wee leagues (already drilling the eye on the prize mentality into their heads: “One day you’ll be the star quarterback, son!”) he would look at Dicky and sigh knowing that wouldn’t be his son’s fate.

And he made peace with it, for Dicky was always kind, always helpful, always wore a smile on his face and a smudge of flour on his cheek.

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NurseyWeek Prompt #1 - Silence/Mistake. Um, kind of. Got a bit off track.          ¯\_(ツ)_/¯


Dex tromps into the Haus, slamming the door shut and tossing his bag haphazardly on the floor, kicking it out of the way as he passes. He’s scowling, which, frankly, isn’t that unusual, but his expression has an edge of something that tugs at Derek. Dex doesn’t even spare him a glance as he flops down at the other end of the couch with an exasperated growl, tipping his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. Silence fills the space between them for a moment.

“So, how was your day?” Derek asks.

“Fuck off.”

“Yeah, mine was good, too.”

“Fuck. Off.”

Derek scans the defeated slope of Dex’s body as it’s sprawled over the couch, frowning to himself. Huh. He drops the fake cheer from his voice and puts his notebook down on the end table behind him.

“Dex, hey. What happened?” he asks, voice softer now, quiet even in the relative silence of the Haus mid-day. Dex cracks one amber eye open and gives him a look, squinting semi-suspiciously at him. Derek waits him out, tilting his head and trying to look open for conversation.

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My Best Friend’s Brother

Summary: You’re not prepared when your best friend and roommate’s handsome as hell brother shows up on your doorstep, and you quickly realise the attraction isn’t one sided.

Words: 3.4k

Sam x Reader

Warnings: AU (no hunting), smut, reader gender unspecified

A/N: this was written for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog‘s Tropes Challenge - my trope was Best Friend’s Brother

“Uh, Dean?” you called over your shoulder into the apartment you shared with your best friend, never taking your eyes off of the man at the door.

He couldn’t be Dean’s little brother. Dean’s little brother was all limbs, a lanky, gangly kid; he had puppy-dog eyes and hand-me-down band tees.

The person in front of you, though… this tall, strong, gorgeous man, couldn’t be Sammy.

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Her Thrift Shop

Hey babes! This is an entirely innocent, fluffy oneshot about a reader who works in a thrift shop after school that happens to be right by where her crush, Peter Parker, walks home everyday! They have a few minor interactions before Tony Stark forces Peter to confront his feelings for the reader one day in the shop. I hope that you guys like it!

Her Thrift Shop

    The thrift store in which she worked was right smack in the middle of where Peter Parker often walked home. She smiled, balancing her chin on top of her hands as she leaned against the sales counter that she manned, fondly reminiscing of her favorite Peter sightings.

    The first time that she had spotted him, Peter had been walking home with his best friend, Ned, while she dragged a rack of clothing outside. They had made direct eye contact from two opposite sides of the street and she’d stumbled over the rack’s wheels, while Peter flat out walked into a streetlamp. She’d done her best to politely stifle the giggle aching to bubble out of her throat, but Ned full on cackled at Peter’s expense. Even from across the street, the girl could tell that Peter was strawberry red. Shoving his palms into his pockets, he paced ahead while Ned was still bent over laughing.

    The second time, Peter was walking home with his head bent down, bobbing his head along to the music that coursed through his headphones. She noticed him from inside the shop, peeking her head out from behind the mannequin that she was attempting to wrestle into a figure-hugging dress. She sighed, pausing her frantic movements to walk as Peter peacefully walked by.

    He just looked so damn cute all the time. His hair was unruly from the gusts of wind that filtered throughout the city, and his blue sweater looked soft and warm, and she was ready to bet her entire existence that he smelled of clean laundry. She noticed that Peter’s jeans were rolled at the bottom, and her heart ached. There was hardly anything she wouldn’t give to be with him. At this point, she’d settle for a nod of a hello, or a wave, anything that allowed her bask in Peter’s acknowledgement of her existence.

    “That’s a cute boy,” her much older co-worker commented loudly from behind her. “Do you know him?” She questioned, wiggling her brows up and down and smirking at her.

    The girl’s coworker happened to be her only coworker. The woman owned the tiny consignment store and only had enough money to employ one other salesperson, which happened to be her. The woman was in her early 60s but flirted as if she was still a teen. She was sharp, and witty and never allowed the store’s uniquely vintage merchandise to go for less than it was worth. Utter and complete warmth resided in her eyes, and she was happy to help people create the perfect outfit. Goodness, as well as happiness, radiated from her being. The girl smiled, knowing that her friend was the kind of adult that she’d like to eventually grow into herself. However, she refused to inherit the woman’s brashness in these sorts of situations.

    A ferocious blush overcame her features and she quickly averted her gaze and went back to forcing the tiny dress down the hips of the mannequin. “No, he just goes to my school. We haven’t even said two words to one another.”

    “Oh, that’s peculiar because he’s got major heart eyes for you right now,” the woman commented, nudging her younger companion’s arm. “Look, say hello!” She began to wave at Peter, much to the girl’s dismay. “Hi sweetie!” The lady called out to Peter’s bashful form across the street.

    “No! Oh my gosh, he’s going to think I’m such a weirdo!” The girl cried out, burying her face in the dress.

    “Honey, the only reason that he’d think you’re a weirdo is because you aren’t waving back.” The woman shook her head, “he’s absolutely precious, don’t fuck it up! For goodness sake, wave!” She commanded and finally, the girl did, unable to meet Peter’s eyes. The girl did, however, take note that Peter was waving hello back to her.

Her third and final favorite Peter sighting was when she was rushing to park her car, hurriedly taking the first spot available on the side of the street opposite to where the thrift shop sat. As the girl hastily clambered from her vehicle, she’d been so quick to slam her door shut that she had nearly wrecked her hand in the process.

Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut and the girl could feel tears welling up, but someone caught her hand before she could inflict any harm to herself.

“Did it get you?” Peter’s worried, brown eyes peered down at her. “I- I tried to stop it, but it was just so close.” He stammered, cupping his hands together to examine her for damage that he didn’t prevent.

“Peter,” the girl started, coherent words were coming very hard for her at this point in time, “I didn’t even see you. How’d you get here so fast?” Peter was bright red and the girl could tell, judging by the heat she felt all over, that she was too. She mentally chided herself for being so careless. The girl just couldn’t believe that the first conversation that she had with the guy of her dreams would be taking place right after she foolishly almost broke her own wrist.

Peter shook his head as a mumble escaped his lips, “was close to you, but not in a creepy way, I just happened to be walking home and I saw you, and you were there, and your car-” he rambled, still holding her hand.

She cut him off, “thank you, Peter. I’d be in a whole world of hurt without you.”

Peter’s blush only intensified due to the sincerity dripping from her words, he couldn’t even bring his head up to meet her gaze. “Course, least I can do for the pr-, you.” He cut himself off as fast as he could before she realized that he was going to inform her that she was the prettiest girl in their entire high school. Truth be told, Peter had made up his mind that she was positively the prettiest girl to ever exist.

She gestured to the thrift shop, “come in sometime, we’ll hook you up with some neat, vintage apparel!” She cringed inwardly, cursing herself for speaking like an advertisement in front of Peter.

“Yeah! Yeah, totally, definitely, yeah!” Peter said, awkwardly letting her hand go, “I’ll just, yeah! You know, schools have dances, and whatnot. I’ll see you sometime.” He shrugged his shoulders as they each turned to go their separate ways.

“See you soon?” She questioned as Peter smiled and waved, worming his other hand into the pockets of his hoodie, “And Peter? Seriously, thank you again for saving me from my own lateness,” she laughed.

Peter beamed at her, holding eye contact as he backed away from her, a genuine smile sweeping across his features, “It was my pleasure!”

He watched as she ran across the middle of the street and yanked open the thrift store’s door. She turned and waved to him one last time and Peter did the best he could to not skip the rest of the way home. She had literally just told him to come back and see her. He was going to do everything in his power to create some sort of reason for their paths to cross again.

    The girl was forced to exit her daydreams when the front door’s bell pinged, alerting the young girl that customers were entering the little shop. She smiled, opening her mouth to begin welcoming them inside, but when she turned, she took note of who her patrons were and  froze, her eyes wide open. Standing the thrift store’s doorway stood a grinning Tony Stark and an evermore timid Peter Parker.

    “Peter?” She stuttered out, confusion lacing itself into her tone. Mr. Tony Stark had a nearly endless supply of cash, and she was aware that he’d gotten Peter some expensive items before, so wonder coursed through her body as she tried to figure out why it was that they stood in her tiny, vintage consignment shop.

    “See,” Tony said, nudging Peter’s chest with his elbow, “she does too know you.” Peter turned around and she could hear him utter a soft, but powerful, string of curse words as Tony ambled up to her counter. “Hello there, we’re here looking for an outfit for the upcoming school dance, got any ideas?”

    Her brows knitted together, “But Mr. Stark, our next school dance is months away?” She fiddled with her necklace, snaring her lower lip between her teeth.

    “Ah yes, well, this was all just a clever ploy to get Peter through the door so he could actually talk to you instead of talking everyone he comes into contact’s ear off about you.” A soft gasp fell past her lips as Tony continued, “I’m just going to leave him here. Do what you wish with him, I’m sure that he won’t mind.”

    As Tony turned on his heel and neared the door, Peter looked as though he was exasperatingly attempting to communicate something to him, which Tony blatantly ignored, mumbling a, “you’ll thank me later,” as he allowed the door to slam behind him.

    After a few moments, Peter turned to her, redder than she’d ever seen him and said, “you know Mr. Stark, he likes his grand entrances and exits both.” Peter did his best to laugh off the bucket of embarrassment that he was currently drowning in, and he made a show of locating the men’s section and sifting through racks of clothes.

    From her safe space behind the counter, she knew that she could either do her job and try to actually get somewhere with Peter, or, she could remain behind the glass and rot with the regret of not even trying with him for the rest of her life. Plunking up every ounce of courage that she could muster up, she decided on the first.

Making her way over to where Peter’s body was obscured by articles of clothing, she called out, “is there a specific era that I can help you locate, sir?” She asked, a small smile teasing the corner of her lips.

“I- I, uhm, sure,” Peter stuttered out, his nerves taking control of his body. “Could you help me find something that’ll make me look like Marty McFly?”

She laughed and before she could stop herself, she grabbed Peter’s hand and began guiding him through the endless abyss of clothing to the 80s section. He did his best to ignore the way her hips slightly swayed in her velvet miniskirt, and ignore how floral and sweet she smelled, but Peter couldn’t help but follow her puppy eyes.

“So, here we are at the-” the girl started, but Peter quickly cut her off.

“Do you wanna maybe, shit, I interrupted you,” he dropped his eyes and shifted slightly away from her, “I know that the next dance is a while away, but when it finally gets here, would you want to possibly, maybe, go with me?” He scratched the back of his head and scuffed his sneakers against the floor.

She gasped, her heart rising into her throat, “yes! Yes, yeah, totally! Peter, I’d love to go to the dance with you, but until then, do you maybe want to go to the new art exhibit right around the corner? I get off in an hour or so, if you don’t mind waiting, or if you do, you can come back, or you know, something.”

Peter perked up immediately and began nodding his head wildly, “I’ll wait for you, if that’s alright with you.”

“Of course,” she smiled, moving in closer to Peter, the adrenaline of asking her crush out on a date fueling her to be even more daring. “But only if,” she leaned up onto her tiptoes, her mouth not even a few centimeters away from his, “I can dress you like Johnny Castle from ‘Dirty Dancing’ instead on Marty McFly.”

Peter slipped a delicate arm around her waist and breathed, “if you move a little bit closer, you can dress me however you want.”

Doing as Peter had suggested, she eliminated the space between them, giggling into the first of their many kisses inside of her thrift store.


The Story Of A Girl Who Has A Crush On A Cute Cashier

“It’s okay, you can do this, talk to her. She’s just a girl. Just a gal. Like you. There’s nothing weird about this. She’s human, you’re human. Everything should be fine.” I whispered to myself until I noticed what I was doing and stopped. I approached the front desk and looked at the cute cashier.

I only gave her a glance but it was enough to see what I wanted to see. I saw her beautiful neon blue hair, her adorable freckles and her pink eyes. I saw the little chub to her cheeks and I saw the smirk on her face as she played a game on her phone while waiting for customers. I saw enough to know I was in love.

“Hello.” I said, and my voice cracked. I fucked up. I fucked up so bad. I put down my things on the counter and remained quiet.

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Dollar Valentine

Originally posted by fearless-man

Requested by anonymous: did you watched 13 reasons why? bc i would love something like the oh my dollar valentine thing, asking y/n on a date and the date itself

Word Count: 2,847

Note: I didn’t copy it exactly the way they did it in the show, but pretty close ALSO I really went to town and even incorporated some flashbacks that you guys loved so much :) but also I went overboard on this and I do not regret it one bit, plus I know that this was one of the later requests I got, but I just started writing it and couldn’t stop

-

“Dude, no, I’m not doing that stupid shit.” Shawn shrugs the paper off, rejecting the idea.

Brian looks at him confused, but retracts the paper nonetheless.

“Shawn, you’ve done it every year. Why would this year be any different?” Ian asks, almost just as confused as Brian, if not more.

Shawn bites his lip and pushes a hand through his hair.

“No reason, just don’t feel like it.”

However, there was a reason, and that reason was you. Shawn has had a crush on you since he was ten, literally; you were invited to his tenth birthday party (he had invited the entire class), and the second you walked through the door, he was absolutely convinced that he was in love with you.

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Favors - pt. 3

Group : BTS

Member : Min Yoongi 

Genre : Best Friend!AU, smut, first time, fluff

Word Count : 4,549                                                            

Description : You wanted to know, how giving a blowjob would feel like since you were quite inexperienced in it. So why not use your best friend Yoongi as a test object?

A/N : so since I got a lot of asks about Favors pt. 3 I decided to rewrite it, even when I tbh totally forgot about it. So, here it is. I hope you like it! :) 

pt.1 | pt.2

Originally posted by kuromel

You knew something had changed a week ago when your eyes met your best friend’s intense gaze after another, usual session of sensuality. It was a gaze he had never looked at you with, nor at anyone else before, not even his former lovers. A gaze that sent shivers down your spine, made your knees wobble, and which felt more intimate and intimidating than all the meaningless acts of pleasure you had done on each other for the past few weeks.

There were no feelings nor emotions except for lust and desire rushing through your veins, filling your hazed minds with nothing but the animalistic hunger for the blissful peak you were always craving like opiates. But once the heated moment faded, when your heartbeats were slowing down, you’d go separate ways, thinking not much of what just happened. 

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Walnut: Part Two (EVAN HANSEN X READER)

AUTHORS NOTE: i currently have 586 things in my ask box. 124 of those asks were for a sequel to my fic ‘Walnut’. SO HERE YOU GO KIDDOS

TW: all of them. smut mostly.

Words: 2,503

Requested: hell ya           

You were slammed on the mattress that was now hibernating beneath your spine. Your head hit a pillow, and your boyfriend’s body was hovering over yours. His torso found its way between your thighs. His lips latched onto the flesh of your neck. The room swarmed with sensuality and familiarity. Layers of cotton and denim were strayed on the hard wooden floors of Evan’s bedroom. The sheets that protected his twin size mattress were thrown carelessly. It was a battle of flesh against flesh, in hopes of winning dominance and sweet harmony.

           The feeling of Evan’s racing heart was caught between your fingers. Your hands roamed his exposed skin, drinking in the image of his radiance. His brunette eyebrows were lifted as his eyelids fluttered to a close. Your touch was like fire, burning down deep into his soul. His skin was soft. Your hands traveled to his blue boxers, slipping them down the hip bone that poked the surface of his skin. With a soft growl, he opened his eyes, staring at your anatomy once more.

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Three Words, Eight Letters

Author’s Note: Reid x Reader. When the Reader says “I love you” Reid struggles to return the sentiment. But there’s more than one way to say it. You just have to listen.


He can translate five languages with ease and can read 20,000 words per minute. He can recite Shakespeare and poetry and memorize entire film scripts without batting an eye. And yet, there are three words he just can’t manage to string together.

She thinks it’s a mental block, that something in his mind just won’t let it happen. Or perhaps it’s something in his heart. Something scarred, and something scared. They’d been together for six months before she found the courage to say it to him. They’d been sitting together on a park bench, watching the world go by. He draped an arm over her shoulder, and she’d nestled close to his chest, sighing. It was the most natural thing in the world, to be by his side.

“Spencer?” she’d said, glancing up at him.

“Mm?”

“I, um… I love you.” She had pulled back a bit, gauging his reaction. His eyes widened and red crept into his cheeks as he sat there stammering, looking wholly shell-shocked. “It’s okay,” she added, “You don’t have to say it back! I just thought you should know.”

Spencer had looked down, pulling at his knuckles. “It-it’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just that… I can’t. I’ve tried to tell you so many times, but the words, they won’t come out.” He was quiet for a few moments, before saying, “I think it’s because of Maeve.” His late girlfriend. He had told her their story a few months into their relationship, the night they unearthed the demons of their past together. “She said it to me, but I never had the chance to tell her that, and ever since then I just… I can’t do it. I’m sorry. Because I do… I really do, I just…”

His voice jumped higher and his eyes began to water. Sensing his distress she’d leaned in and silenced him with a kiss. “Shh. I know. It’s okay. You don’t have to say it. I just wanted you to know.” There’s no need to rush it. When he’s ready, he’ll say it.

Months pass, and he still cannot manage it. She’s gotten rather fond of telling him despite the sentiment not being returned. Those words seem to come so easily to her, as though trying to make up for his silence. She can’t stop telling him how much she loves him. When he shows up to her apartment with her favorite takeout food, when they’re the only two sitting in the library, between ragged breaths after he’s kissed her so deeply the world melts away.

He never says it back. And yet, he says it all the time. She just has to listen.

“I love you,” she laughs, as he finishes telling her a funny story on their walk back from dinner. He’s accompanying her back to her apartment, and the air is rapidly cooling off. She shivers, wearing only a dress and light jacket. When the sun went down, the mild fall temperatures went with it. Spencer stops and pulls off his coat, laying it across her shoulders.

“Darling, you don’t have to-”

“Don’t worry. I’m not really cold at all,” he assures her, removing his scarf as well. With care he wraps it in circles around her neck, smiling at her. Instantly the cold in her bones is replaced by warmth, and she buries her nose into the fabric of the scarf. It smells like ivory soap, coffee, and autumn. Just like him.

“Thanks.”

Spencer takes her hand once more, and they start off down the street. “Of course. I don’t want you to get sick. You need it more than I do.” He takes his coat back when they reach her building, but he conveniently forgets about the scarf, a fact which she’s all too happy about to believe it was an accident.

She hears it then.

She hearts it when he comes back after a long case, she throws her arms around him. “God I’ve missed you,” she says. “I love you so much.”

He kisses her forehead, and when he pulls away she notices the bag in his hand. “”I brought you something.”

“Why?” she asks. “It’s not my birthday or anything.”

“Open it,” is all he says. She peers inside, and withdraws a book. Staring at the cover, her mouth falls open.

Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse. An old, worn copy. She opens the front cover and stares at the first page. It can’t be. “But this is… this is a first edition! Spencer, it must’ve cost a fortune!”

He shakes his head. “You’ve always told me it’s your favorite book, and that you’d do anything to get a first edition copy. Well, on the case I helped save the life of a rare bookstore owner, who insisted on giving me a book as a gift. When I saw this one, I knew I had to get it.”

“Why?” she repeats. In her arms she clutches the book tight, not sure whether she wants to hug it or him more.

“Just because,” he says. “I wanted to see your smile when you opened it.” The book is temporarily forgotten on the armchair as she loses herself in kissing him.

She knows it the day he comes over to find her curled up on the couch, crying. It’s been a difficult week and her best friend, Isa, has been in a terrible accident. Things are up in the air. Isa is in the hospital. Spencer doesn’t ask any questions, he simply walks over and sits down beside her. She continues to sob as he pulls her onto his lap and wraps up her in an embrace. His heart beats through his shirt, and he runs his hands up and down her back in slow patterns, whispering gentle reassurances in that low voice he typically reserves for victims and grieving families. In his arms, she is safe. Warm and protected. No matter what the world throws at her, she knows he will be there to lift her up and keep her steady.

The very presence of him soothes her. He wipes her tears with the sleeves of his shirt and pushes her hair back from her face. They sit there in silence, her head on his chest, his fingers tracing circles on her skin until her breathing returns to normal. No words are needed at all. He knows her, knows what she needs. And she knows in her heart exactly how he feels.

She is certain of it when they’re at an event for her job, and one of her colleagues starts ranting about how medication is useless for mental illness. Robert goes on and on, saying that all people need to do is think positively and do things like yoga. Everyone is overdiagnosed, overmedicated, and overly sensitive.

Spencer feigns a sudden interest in the view from the window in the hallway as an excuse to escape the conversation. He glances down at her, quickly looking her over. “Are you okay?” he asks.

She bites her lip and inhales slowly. Anxiety has been a struggle for most of her life, and it was only with therapy and medication that she started to heal. Since college, things have been much better, but she still remembers the darker days, when she wasn’t sure how to keep going. To hear people say such ignorant things about mental health still stings.

“I’m alright,” she says. “I’ve heard worse things. But thank you for getting me out of there. I love you.”

Spencer interlaces his fingers with her own and they stare out at the city together. “I’d do anything for you. And I don’t want anyone to hurt you. What you feel is valid, and nobody should tell you otherwise.” He’s always doing that with her. Her protector, her knight in a vest and cardigan. There is no doubt in her mind that when he says anything he means anything.

They are sitting in his living room and they’ve both had a stressful day at work, and he’s making herbal tea in the kitchen. “I love you,” she says, grinning, when he sets the mug down before her. Spencer frowns and shifts uneasily in the armchair he’s in.

“Doesn’t it bother you, Y/N?” he asks.

“Doesn’t what bother me?”

“The fact that I still haven’t said it.” Oh. That. “We’ve been dating for over a year, and I still can’t manage to do something so simple. I know it must be frustrating, and I don’t want you to think I’m not as committed to you or to our relationship. You’re the most important thing in my life, and I don’t want to lose you. But I can’t say it yet.”

“Spencer,” she says softly, resting a hand on his forearm. The fabric of his sweater is soft between her fingers. “I know it. I know how you feel about me. You don’t have to say anything before you’re ready to. There’s more than one way to say I love you, you know. You tell me all the time. Not in those words, but I get the message.”

He seems unconvinced. “How?”

“You ask me to text you to make sure I get home safely. You call me almost every night when you’re away on a case just because you say you want to hear my voice. You hold me when I’m scared. You take me out to get Thai food even though you’d rather have Indian. You memorized every song in Les Mis because you knew it was my favorite musical. In all those gestures, I can hear it. And I can hear it when you make time for me no matter how busy you are. Sometimes you say it without saying anything at all.”

She leans closer to kiss him, softly at first, then deeper, deeper. In equal fervor he responds, and though the syllables do not fall from his tongue, his lips are perfectly capable of making the message clear. Every part of her tells her it’s true, that he loves her he loves her he loves her. No flower petal plucking needed to divine it.

One day, she’s walking across the sidewalk to hand him a cup of coffee. They’re going to walk to the Smithsonian, but it’s still early and they need caffeine before they’re ready to go anywhere. He holds the paper cup close to his face, breathes in the scent of a warm mocha.

“Ah. What would I do without you?” he says, flashing her a smile. She laughs, a grin that stretches across her whole face, and the morning sunlight hits her eyes just right at that very moment, and she just looks so adorable. Something in him lifts. “I love you.”

The smile falters, and the latte she’s holding tumbles from her hands, contents spilling on the sidewalk. She blinks. “What did you say?”

Bewildered, she stares up at him, and his heart swells. “I love you,” he repeats. He can’t explain why now or how, but the words have finally come and he can’t stop them. Months of sentiments fall from his mouth. “I love every part of you. I love the way your eyes light up when you’re excited and I love the way you laugh and I love how open your heart is. I love your patience and your hair and the way you kiss me when there’s no one else around. I love all of you. I love you. I am in love with you. I’ve never loved anyone this much. I love you, Y/N.”

It feels so good to say it.

It feels so good to hear it. Water springs to her eyes before she can stop the tears. Stepping over the puddle of coffee, she cups his face in her hands. “I know you do,” she murmurs. “You didn’t have to say it. But I’m glad you did. And I love you, too.”

In the middle of the sidewalk, he pulls her closer, pressing his lips to hers. They’re both laughing and crying and something in them has changed. She doesn’t care that people pass by, giving them odd looks as they stand there kissing. Whatever locked doors existed in his heart have finally been opened. He’s healing. He’s ready.

For him, she would wait a thousand years. No demands, no ultimatums. She has heard the sentiment before, listening carefully to his actions and reading between the lines.

But oh, how good it feels to finally hear those words out loud. And oh, how she loves him.

Promise

No pairing, Jared x Jensen friendship

Request: Concept: Jared and Jensen having conversations like ours. Do you think that’s a thing? - @wayward-girl

Word Count: 779

Warnings: general mental health issues, mention of past depression and anxiety, minor anxiety attack, SO many J2 friendship feels

A/N: So, @wayward-girl and I have talked every single day for the past month (plus), and every single night, I ask her to promise me we’ll talk tomorrow. I won’t go much farther into detail, but just know that if we were Jared and Jensen, this is pretty much exactly how it would go.

*Dialogue in italics signals a text message.


Originally posted by the-winchester-cult

3am. Jared should’ve been fast asleep, but he wasn’t. He was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling of his apartment bedroom in Vancouver, mind scrambling with thoughts - thoughts he couldn’t put together. He just needed to talk to someone, anyone.

Jensen.

Jared grabbed his phone from his nightstand and rolled onto his side, typing out a message to his best friend and costar.

“You got a minute?” 

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flower petals [c.m x  reader]

Connor Murphy x Reader

 Request : @doilyloily 

 “ Write me some connor Murphy x reader where reader is really positive and when connor bumps into her and he thought she would make it dramatic and say that he attacked her, but she just “oh no, I’m sorry.” And he’s just so ??? Shook ??? And then they’re apparently neighbors so when she says hi and walks to school with him he’s also ??? Shook ??? And then after a while he’s just: oh heck I love you and BOOM it’s fluffy. Idk man. “ 

 Warnings: swearing, cuteness. 

 Y/N = your name \ Y/L/N = your last name

this is extremely out of character lol but i like happy Con so…

xoxo cass

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Façade (Taehyung X Reader)

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Word count: 6.0 K

Warning: cussing, slight jimin x reader, daddy kink, dirty talk , smut

summary: Y/N struggles due to her sister as she is faced with a new love interest. Due to the age gap Y/N must cover up and pretend as if she is the one dating Taehyung to please there parents. Along the line Taehyung and Y/N grow closer together, closer in more than one way. 



speaking from personal experience having a sister had its rough patches that most likely couldnt be fixed. Okay i may be exaggerating but life only gained more diffcult if she cared about her apparence more then your whole exestince. I had been born first making me gain all the responsibilities and her gaining all the mistakes. She had been in her last year of high school as I was in my first year of college. It had also been spring break meaning I had to visit my parents and come to terms with my lovely sister.


I had managed to befriend someone apart of my college by the name of Kim Taehyung. He was attractive to say the least, anyone could point that out even my sister. She had no problem with pointing it out unlike I did. She had already knew I had striking feelings for Taehyung yet she ignored my feelings and contorted her own. Taehyung seemed to like the attention from her, bringing them together. Leaving me out.


I wasn’t the only one who didn’t like this, as did my parents but they only saw Taehyung as her friend and I as his girlfriend. It gets confusing at times definitely but none of the less it makes sense, no matter how against it I was. My parents would lose their shit if they found out there youngest daughter was dating a college kid, but would freak out much less if their eldest daughter was dating a college kid. To put it in simpler terms I was fake dating Taehyung while my sister was in reality.


“Ding dong”
I groaned at the noise and that simple fact of Taehyung. I hadn’t always been irritated by his presence not till he started dating my sister. Our friendship had been put down the drain, his focus forever on my sister when she was around at least.

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Relax(Fem!ReaderxNewt SMUT)

Omgawd! U should do a romantic first time with newt x reader(u know da thing xD) …Maybe they go on a date and later go home to his apartment, and it gets a little intense. If u do imagines I hope u would consider it ;) thx in advance :3

Hehheheehehehehheheheh

I MADE A MALE VERSION BECAUSE THE GAYS DESERVE SMUT TOO

Warnings-SmUT(giddy up ;) 


Newt was currently pacing around in front of your office with flowers. He wanted to ask you on a date but man was he nervous. He knocks on the door and you open up the door. You smile widely at the adorable man standing in front of you. 

“Hello Newt, So what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask. 

Newt pulls the flowersRe out from behind his back, “Would you like to go out to dinner tonight?” Newt asks. You take the flowers and smell them. 

“Newt, love. We’ve been dating for months now. You don’t have to be so nervous or be so formal” You tell him. 

“Well yes I know but, I still get very nervous around you. You’re very intimidating” Newt admits. 

You giggle and ruffle his hair a little bit. I’ll see you tonight Newty.” You say. Newt takes you to a lovely muggle restaurant. It was beautiful, you dressed up in a simple black dress with matching heels. 

“Newt, I love this but tell me, why something so, so magnificent. I really don’t deserve this” You say. Newt reaches across the table and takes your hand. 

“Darling, of course you deserve this. I know how stressful work can be, I thought this could relax you” Newt explains. 

Newts fingers tapped lightly on your hand. He couldn’t help but noticed the light above you cast shadows on your cleavage and the dress you wore hugged your curves just right. Newt blushed at his own thoughts and let go of your hand. The waiter came to take your order and you and Newt ordered. You noticed his voice was a little shaky. 

“Newt, what’s wrong?” you ask. 

“Um Nothing love” Newt replies. 

You nod your head but made a mental note to talk about it later. The conversation between you two was lively and sweet. Newt rambled on and on about his creatures, you loved seeing the passion in his eyes as he told stories about them. He ran his fingers through his hair and bit his lip. It was something he always did but it always made you weak at the knees. He was adventurous and enticing how could you not fall for him. Not to mention a gentleman. 

“This was a wonderful evening, I don’t want it to end” You say as you and Newt exit the resturant. You had Newt’s coat wrapped around your body. 

“It doesn’t have to, we can head back to my apartment if you like” Newt offers. 

“If you don’t mind” you reply. 

Newt takes your hand and goes into a hidden alley and pulls out his wand apparates to his apartment. It was a warm and cozy little place. Newt walks off to his bedroom. His case with rope on it in the corner. It slightly resembles the Hufflepuff common room. You take off his coat and hang it on a nearby chair. You take off your heels and rub your feet. 

“Hey Newt…” You trail off as you look up. 

Newt walks out only in his trousers and white shirt. His hair is slightly messy and his shirt slightly unbuttoned. You stared gaping like an idiot. He looked so…delcious. Oh what it would be like to run your fingers through his hair and unbutton that shirt. 

“Y/n Would you like some tea?” Newt’s voice breaks you from your dirty train of thought. 

“Y-Yes, sure” You reply. 

You stand up and walk behind Newt. You wrap your arms around his waist and put your head on his shoulder. Newt jumps at your contact and then calms down. 

“Oh, it’s just you” Newt says relieved. You turn your head and press your lips on his neck. 

Newt tenses at your contact, “U-Uh Y/n, What are you doing?” Newt asks nervously but also excited. You continue kissing his neck, applying more pressure. You reach your hands down and settle them on his belt. 

“Are you okay with this love?” you ask. 

“Very” Newt says. 

You smirk and turn him around. You unbutton his shirt at a teasingly slow pace. You trace his scars lightly and leave kisses all over his chest. 

“Oh y/n” Newt moans out. You raise your eyebrows at Newt. 

“Didn’t know you were so vocal Scamander” you tease. 

Newt takes your hand and leads you to his bedroom. You push him down on the bed and straddle his waist. You undo his belt and Newt eagerly kicks down his pants. 

“Easy there tiger” you joke. 

“I don’t even know what a tiger is” Newt says cheekily. 

You roll your eyes and lightly grab his crotch. Newt bucks his hips needily against your hand. You lean down and kiss him passionately. Newt’s hands roam your back. He starts to unzip your dress when you stop him. 

“Y/n” he whines. 

“Later love, let me show you how much I love you” you whisper in his ear. 

You pull down his boxers and run your hands along his dick. He whines at your touch. You smirk and bring your lips to his head. Your rub your hands at the base of his cock and take more of it in your mouth. You suck hard and grab his balls. Newt lets out a loud moan. You start bobbing your head and Newt whines and grabs the sheets in his hands. 

You look up and see Newts face full of pleasure. You smile in your head and start moving faster. You felt Newts dick twitch in your mouth. You pull off his cock and kiss back up his body. 

“Why did you stop” Newt whines. You laugh a little and kiss his jaw. 

“We’re not done yet love” you whisper. 

Newt’s hands go back to your dress. He unzips it and you let him, his eyes roam your body and he licks his lips. He unhooks your bra and brings his hands up to your breasts. he squeezes and brings his plump lips to your nipples. You moan as he bites and licks at your nipples. 

“I need you” Newt pants. 

You lean and plant a heated kiss. Newt’s hands travel down and take off your panties. You get a condom from the desk next to you, rip it off and put it on Newts dick. You guide his cock into your wet pussy. Moans filled the air as you start to ride Newt. Newt grabs your hips and raises his hips to meet you. 

You looked down to see Newt panting and sweating. This turned you on more and you picked up the pace. You felt Newts cock twitch inside you. You went as fast as you could, Newt grabbing at your breasts and admiring you. 

“Y/n, I-I'm” Newt starts but he wasn’t able to finish his sentence. 

He was too lost in pleasure to even think. With one last hard bounce, Newt cums into the condom. You follow him after you let him ride out his orgasm. You pull off of him and lay next to him. 

“You are one magnificent person Y/n” Newt pants looking at you. 

“Glad you enjoyed it, You deserved it” you say. Newt wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. 

“This was supposed to be your night though” Newt says. 

“Oh it was definitely my day Newt” You reply 

“I love you” you murmur into his chest. 

“I love you too, more than you could ever imagine”


Can anyone find me some Holy water? 

For Forever

Originally posted by gublerheaven

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: A rare date night takes a cliche turn for Mr. & Mrs. Reid. Just fluff. Mega fluff.

Word Count: 1,232

A/N: This is probably the fluffiest thing I have ever written and I just hope that it makes sense and that you guys like it! This is also named after the song from ‘Dear Evan Hansen’ bc it has been stuck in my head all week.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ GIF is not mine, credit goes to the original owner. I would love to hear your feedback!


Moments of domesticity were a rarity for those who worked in the BAU.

And seeing as how you and Spencer were a newly married couple of only two months, they were also deeply desired.

Within the past two months of your new life together, Spencer had been home for only three of those weeks total. It almost seemed as if every psychopath in the country had developed a sixth sense for detecting newlywed happiness and had set a personal vendetta against destroying it.  

During a particularly long case that had taken him away from your shared home, Spencer had called and promised you that the night following his return would be devoted to making up for the time that the two of you had lost recently. The half-hearted attempt you made to persuade him into staying home and decompressing after such a rough case was squashed quickly, as he soothed your worries and assured you that some quality time together was all he needed to unwind.

Always one to hold true to his word, Spencer made reservations at Antichi Sapori, an authentic Italian restaurant within walking distance of your apartment, for the night he came back home. For two hours you indulged in a small slice of marital bliss—eating, laughing, and soaking up each other’s presence before coercing Spencer into continuing your date in the comfort of your own home.

The dusk of evening was darker than usual due to looming clouds that covered the setting night sky, but you didn’t give it much thought as Spencer’s infectious laugh became the only thing you paid attention to as you left the restaurant hand in hand.

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