#with a splash of snark ( Harry )

[kpforpresident]

Clexaweek Day 6: workplace romance 🌱

Plant shop AU. Or, an AU of an AU. 

collab with @thecrimsonknight, the link to the beautiful moodboard that they made is here.

It had been raining all day. Fat streams of rainwater poured off of the dark green eve that sagged defeatedly under the sheer weight of rain, the tinny plink plink plink of drops hitting the metallic gutter echoing under the door frame as they soared through the humid mid-July air. Puddles splashed merrily under harried car wheels as they rushed by the street corner where Lexa’s cozy shop sat, hunched figures under black umbrellas milling about the street corners as people hastily tried to get from their point A to point B relatively dry. A city that sat nestled in the PNW, Polis was no stranger to wet, gray days or foggy cool mornings. However, this summer had been particularly rainy, long weather forecasts of dreary little clouds sitting like sullen soldiers on Lexa’s weather app no matter how often she refreshed and hoped for a crack of sunshine in the little line of weather emojis. 

Lexa fidgeted impatiently on her stool, hands clasping and unclasping in front of her and she fought the urge to reach out and straighten the spool of twine that sat primly next to her favorite gardening shears. Chancing one more glance at the slim gold watch that sat clasped around her left wrist, she sighed as she gave up and straightened from her boredom-induced slump, feeling her spine pop slightly as she unfolded from the rickety little stool to standing. 

This chick has two more minutes, and then I’m locking the door and going home to watch trash TV and eat dollar ramen noodles, Lexa thought absentmindedly as she drummed her fingers on the battered workbench, watching the secondhand slowly tick towards 4:02. This is the last fucking time you hire one of Raven’s friends- just because she’s Anya’s girlfriend doesn’t mean that you have to let this weird ass best friend nepotism stand- remember what happened when you hired Octavia’s brother to build shelving? That was an entire shitshow… Lexa snarked internally as she wandered through the rows of cut flowers, straightening a wilting tulip as her eyes darted against her will again towards the door and the unrelenting deluge outside. Blurry figures continued to rush by, heads toward the ground, shoulders hunched as they all moved in a coordinated, practiced dance borne of many, many rainy days. 

A whole sixty seconds goes by as she stares silently at the thin hand, finally letting her mouth slip into a frown when her expectant gaze darts towards the door to see….no one. Lexa finally let her shoulders slump minutely, hands dropping from where she had been fussing with an all-green bouquet arrangement. Turning the trimmed piece of eucalyptus over and over in her fingers, Lexa turned to the back of the shop and prepared to grab her coat and trudge home once again, mentally preparing for the soggy walk three blocks home to her small albeit cozy apartment. 

As she twisted the eucalyptus branch over again in her fingers, she heard the cheery tinker of her door chime, followed by the door flinging open. Lexa was turning around, warm customer service smile plastered onto her face as the human embodiment of a tsunami bounded through the glass door. 

Lexa felt the smile fall in abject horror off of her stunned face as the same whirlwind promptly swept into the shop and managed to place their foot perfectly into a plate-sized puddle just beside the door mat, arms and legs pinwheeling spectacularly as her feet skidded out from under her. 

She hit the ground with a loud whump, followed by a soft oof as the girl sat up slowly, painfully. Colorful swear words poured from her lips unceasingly as Lexa watched her flex various body parts with increasing confidence among finding the movements absent of pain, clearly going through an inventory of all of her working limbs post- tumble.  

Lexa crouched down hesitantly, trying her best to gather the pile of cream-colored papers that had flown from her hands like feathers from a split pillow as the stranger had crashed to the floor of her shop. Sheath of papers finally gathered into a messy stack, Lexa looked up, mouth opening involuntarily as she accidentally locked gazes with the bluest set of eyes she’d ever encountered. 

“I- you- you wouldn’t happen to be Clarke, would you?” Lexa managed to croak out after a long moment, where the stranger- Clarke- slowly staggered to her feet with a small wince, free hand rubbing where her hip had made contact with the concrete floor as she nodded in confirmation. Clarke’s other hand tentatively extended to take the stack of what Lexa now realized were art sketches, a small smile breaking across her face like the sun after a rainstorm as their fingers brushed slightly. Lexa absently mirrored her expression, eyes widening slightly as she did so. She flexed her hand as she retreated to behind the workbench, managing to settle onto her stool without looking like too much of a dunce. 

Raven, in typical menace fashion, had neglected to mention that her artist friend that Lexa had hired to paint a mural on the blank back wall of her studio, was shockingly, jaw droppingly attractive. Not that Lexa should’ve been surprised. Raven, with her warm brown eyes, flawless skin, and shimmering black hair, could’ve walked straight out of a playboy version of a Mechanics Monthly, even covered in car oil and grease as she usually was when she came home from work from the small shop she owned with Lincoln just outside of Polis. Lincoln’s fiance Octavia was similarly stunning, with sharp cheekbones and a muscular figure, dark eyes cunning and softened by a perfect pouting mouth. Lincoln clearly felt similarly, his gaze becoming soft and dreamy when Octavia would stride into the shop in her free time, a gym bag slung over her shoulder on her way home from the boxing studio that she co-owned with Anya. 

Lexa shouldn’t have been shocked that Clarke looked like a Botachelli angel, curves enclosed perfectly in a dark wash pair of jeans, a faded t-shirt slouching perfectly on her shorter frame, but still she floundered for words as the bright cerulean gaze met hers expectantly, Clarke hobbling forward to spread her cache of doodles across Lexa’s desk. Lexa tried not to drool obnoxiously as a pair of worn Doc Martens came into view at the bottom of her field of vision. 

Sappho, give me strength, Lexa thinks frantically, heart beating a tempo against her ribcage as her fingers tap the wooden desk nonsensically, desperately, as a wave of sweet perfume engulfs her when Clarke shifts slightly to tuck a graphite pencil behind her ear, shimmering waves of blonde hair tumbling out from a harried braid. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Clarke blurts out apologetically, tracing her finger over a smudge of charcoal in the lower corner of the topmost sketch. Lexa was already shaking her head before her brain engaged, dismissing Clarke’s wavered apology before it had fully passed her lips. 

“It’s totally fine, Clarke” Lexa soothes as she darted her gaze down to appraise the charcoal lines that Clarke had spread as a silent offering in front of her, sentence petering off slowly as she leaned closer to appreciate the drawings. ‘“These- these are amazing, Raven mentioned that you left your pre-med track to go to art school downtown after your dad died?” 

Clarke nods silently, chewing on a rose colored lip as her thumb smoothed over a sketch of an apple blossom, a feathery fern bending effortlessly in the background. Lexa notes the slight tension in her shoulders at the mention of her father and steers the conversation to safer waters, hair falling out of its tired bun as she bends over the drawings to examine them in more detail. She’s so entranced by the sketches she doesn’t see Clarke’s gaze trace over her figure, lingering on how Lexa’s lips purse in thought as she traces a reverent finger over a very realistic tulip bud. 

“I mean, I love them all,” Lexa concludes helplessly as she runs a thoughtful hand through her hair, chancing a glance up at Clarke, who happens to be gazing at Lexa from her higher vantage point at the same time. “I would love for you to paint any of them on the wall, I’d love to just let you go wild. I’m happy to pay for whatever paint you need on top of your base rate for your time, I know it’s a big wall.”

Lexa can feel her cheeks go crimson as they lock eyes again, standing awkwardly to gesture uselessly at the large white wall that borders the back of her store, decorated only by a small floral fridge on the far right side. 

“I- do you like italian food?” Clarke blurts out from somewhere behind her shoulder, Lexa turning incredulously to be met with a twin set of flaming pink cheeks. “Can I buy you dinner, and we can sketch out the mural? Is that ok? Is that breaking some sort of client contractor rule? Because I already swore to Rae that I wouldn’t fuck this up, because Anya’s essentially your sister and all–” 

“I’d love to get dinner with you, Clarke.” 

///

Four months later when Clarke finally puts the finishing touches on the mural, they celebrate with takeout Italian food and champagne on the floor of the little flower shop.

#clexaweek23 #day6 #clexa #clarke x lexa #plant shop au

[ironverseocs]

an edit for every tag canons - [2/9]:

Harrison Wells with a splash of snark.

#harrison wells #harrywellsedit #the flash #theflashedit #harrisonwellsedit #dctvedit #arrowverseedit #dctv #arrowverse #an edit for every tag #series #aefet #[ aka edits ] #with a splash of snark ( Harry ) #a story as old as time {| canon |}

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey Steph, hope you’re well!

I was wondering if you knew of any specifically Christmas Tree decorating/decorating for the holidays Johnlock fics. Maybe even where they decorate a side of the tree each and John’s side is perfectly places and neat and Sherlock’s side has mini skeletons or bones or petri dishes or something so specifically Sherlock. They maybe have a little spat on what to put on the top of the tree (only to end up with a deerstalker on there). Or they have little domestics over whether the theme should be traditional green and red or winter wonderland or something?

If not, I may have to write one (or a few) of these as one shots. I may just do that anyway.

Sorry for rambling! Hope you have a wonderful day. Stay safe <3

Hey Nonny!

OOOOOF ahhhhh god my memory is so shoddy... I'll direct you to my Christmas lists, but I will pull out the ones I remember or THINK had Christmas Tree Decorating in them... As for your specific request, OOF don't think I know of any... if anyone has one or wants to write it, PLEASE DO!! <3

CHRISTMAS TREES / DECORATING

See also:

Christmas Fics (Dec. 2017)

Christmas: Oblivious That One or The Other is In a Relationship

Christmas 2019 Part 1 (All Bookmarks XMas and New Years)

Christmas 2019 Part 2 (Marked for Later)

G / T / K+ Rated Christmas Fics (Dec. 2018) (Updated Dec 2021)

Community Recs: Christmas 2020

New Year’s Fics (Jan 2018)

Entanglement by orphan_account (G, 3,218 w., 1 Ch. || Confessions, Physics, Metaphors, Texting, Pining, Christmas, Mind Palace, Sick Fic, Fluff, Humour, Praise Kink) - On Christmas Eve, snow covers London, John visits Harry, and Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson untangle some knots.

Last Christmas by Mazarin221b (T, 3,911 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss) – That Earth-shaking revelation, then, leads to a problem, and one that Sherlock realizes should be solved quickly, before John’s dates turn into girlfriends or boyfriends, because sometimes girlfriends or boyfriends can turn into wives or husbands while your back is turned. Every time John hums happily at the mirror as he shaves, splashes on a little gift cologne Mrs. Hudson bought him for Christmas, Sherlock is drawn back to that night by the fire, and the way John’s touch had made the world stand still.

Tree Topper by May_Shepard (E, 4,017 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas Tree, Christmas Fluff, Drunken Shenanigans, Smut, First Time, Friends to Lovers) – Sherlock and John are celebrating Christmas the best way they know how--alone together, with booze. They've almost finished decorating their tree, but John is determined to find the best way to top it.

Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Missing Christmas Spirit by SilentAuror (M, 15,002 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas, Domesticity, Post S3, Happy Ending) – John hates Christmas. So does Sherlock, but he suggests that they do Christmas "properly" this year to see if they can't track down its elusive magic and discover for themselves what Christmas is supposed to be about.

Deck the Halls by itsalwaysyou_jw (T, 31,018 w., 24 Ch. || Advent Fic / Multiple One-Shots, Assorted Tags) – One Johnlock ficlet for every day leading up to Christmas. Who is ready for pining, first kisses, established Johnlock, and everything in between? This collection of stand-alone ficlets will have it all.

a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w., 26 Ch. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock, Frottage, Nightmares, Sleepy Sherlock, Marriage Proposal, Humour, Fluff, Dancing, Cooking, Happy Ending) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of

Goodness Gives Extras by mydwynter (E, 39,629 w., 6 Ch. || Fluff & Angst, Case Fic, Oral / Anal, Humour, First Time, Miscommunication, Snark, Christmas) – Christmas time. 'Tis the season to settle down with a drink, some food and a present or two, and to enjoy the quiet relaxation of the holiday. Instead, there's a case that drags them all over, missing presents, disappointed kids, angry parents, and a freak snowfall. On top of that John has to deal with Sherlock, who is being even more of a prat than usual. He really shouldn't have expected anything different.

The Baker Street Nativity by SwissMiss (E, 99,662 w., 23 Ch. || Nativity! AU || Teacher Sherlock / TA John, Pining, Sherlock POV, UST, Angst, Christmas, Music/Song Fic, Anal / BJ’s, First Kiss / Time) – Fusion between Sherlock (BBC) and Nativity! (2009 movie starring Martin Freeman). Sherlock is a primary school teacher and John is assigned to be his classroom assistant. Together, they are charged with putting on the school's Nativity play. What could possibly go wrong? Part 1 of The Baker Street Nativity Verse

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #christmas trees #christmas decorations #help steph find fics

[tabloidtoc]

Star, January 25

You can now buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Meghan Markle’s life is a lie 

Page 1: Emma Stone’s baby joy -- after months of speculation thrilled mom-to-be Emma debuts her baby bump during a hike with a pal 

Page 2: Contents, Sutton Foster and Nico Tortorella and Debi Mazar filmed a scene for Younger’s final season 

Page 4: Candace Cameron Bure came out swinging again against commenters on a holiday pic she posted on Instagram of her and her husband Valeri Bure and kids Natasha and Lev and Maksim and she got a load of snark for the heavily retouched pic 

Page 5: Karlie Kloss usually steers clear of dishing on her sister- and brother-in-law Ivanka Trump and Jared Kushner but on January 6 Karlie broke her silence after Ivanka tweeted and quickly deleted a post calling a pro-Trump mob storming the U.S. Capitol building American patriots and Karlie begged to differ tweeting that accepting the results of a legitimate democratic election is patriotic and when one Twitter user urged her to tell her brother-in-law and sister-in-law she lamented I’ve tried 

* Olivia Jade Giannulli posted a clip of herself dancing maskless at a beach-house party and the New Year’s Day Insta came days after her mom Lori Loughlin was sprung from prison and the clip which featured her toasting with a glass of vino came less than a month after she aired her regrets in an interview -- the party girl feels she’s suffered too from the scandal and she was just letting off steam 

* Rege-Jean Page has sent pulses racing with his groundbreaking role as the rakish Duke of Hastings in Bridgerton but it was his reference to James Bond’s legendary martini preference in a tweet that had fans speculating he’s in line to take over from Daniel Craig as the next 007 -- the biracial actor has been vocal about the importance of inclusive casting 

Page 6: Jessica Simpson whose own father once bragged about her double Ds is enjoying a very particular benefit of her recent 100-lb slimdown which is she’s gone down two cup sizes and she says she feels more athletic and her body is more in proportion -- in addition to easing back pain she feels a different sort of weight has lifted because all that talk about her breasts made her feel they overshadowed her as a person 

* Drew Barrymore is nursing a private pain as her ex-husband Will Kopelman went public with his new love Vogue staffer Alexandra Michler and the two are serious while Drew is still single and she is alone and feeling like the odd man out -- there are times when Drew absolutely regrets divorcing Will especially now that he’s dating again and Drew was holding out hope for a reunion but when she discovered Will was seeing someone new she knew there was a good chance it may not happen and even worse her own attempts at finding romance have fallen flat as she’s tried online dating a few times but had no luck 

* Star Spots the Stars -- Jimmy Fallon and wife Nancy Juvonen, Jennifer Lopez, Eva Longoria, Ryan Seacrest, Jenna Dewan, Aubrey Plaza, JD Martinez 

Page 8: Star Shots -- John Legend gave his son Miles a zip around the water on a jet ski during a vacation in St. Barths, Ellen DeGeneres on a bike after lunch with friends in Santa Barbara, Brooke Burke dressed in wintry workout gear sipped a hot drink 

Page 10: Leslie Jones on Celebrity Wheel of Fortune, Christina Aguilera playing video games with her son Max 

Page 12: Kit Harington takes his dog for a walk in London, Sean “Diddy” Combs passed out gift cards and gift bags to those in need in Miami, Mindy Kaling online shopping 

Page 13: Gabrielle Union and her husband Dwyane Wade on a hike, Jenny McCarthy maneuvered her trash bins to the curb in Chicago 

Page 14: Coach Tom Jones on The Voice UK, EJ Johnson at the beach in Miami, Margaret Qualley and boyfriend Shia LaBeouf on a hike in L.A., Dua Lipa eating during a getaway in Tulum, Mexico 

Page 16: Normal or Not? Tori Spelling out in Los Angeles with her dogs and husband Dean McDermott -- normal, Nicole Kidman and an alpaca -- not normal 

Page 17: Jennifer Garner playing the drinking game from The Crown in which participants who can’t repeat a phrase correctly must smudge their faces -- not normal, Kate Bosworth celebrated her birthday with husband Michael Polish and some bubbly in Beverly Hills -- normal 

Page 18: Fashion -- stars stun in Pantone colors of the year Illuminating Yellow and Ultimate Gray -- Mindy Kaling, Thandie Newton, Jorja Smith 

Page 19: Ariana Grande, Zoey Deutch 

Page 24: Olivia Wilde made news stepping out as Harry Styles’ plus-one to his agent’s wedding in Montecito and he introduced her as his girlfriend as the two mingled and held hands -- the next day Harry and Olivia who hit it off on the set of her upcoming psychological thriller Don’t Worry Darling in which he stars were spotted heading into his L.A. home -- wedding guests weren’t the only ones surprised by the new couple as Olivia’s ex Jason Sudeikis dad to her kids Otis and Daisy has been nurturing hope of a reunion since their split in late 2020 and he was surprised she’d go for one of the actors in her movie -- now Olivia is conflicted because she’s having fun with Harry but there’s no denying her feelings for Jason continue to linger and some are betting her romance with Harry will flame out in no time and no one would be surprised if Olivia and Jason ended up getting back together 

Page 25: Florence Pugh and Zach Braff had Hollywood abuzz after a pal wished her a happy birthday on social media and cryptically referred to her as FPB -- that extra B caused many to surmise that Florence has quietly exchanged vows with Zach and taken his last name and Florence hasn’t done much to shut down speculation by strategically hiding her ring finger in photos shared on Instagram 

* Zoe Kravitz filed for divorce from Karl Glusman after 18 months of marriage because she was fed up with having an MIA husband -- things between the two hit a breaking point after Karl failed to check in with his wife while filming Please Baby Please in Butte, Montana -- Zoe couldn’t take being ignored and when she and Karl finally spoke they had a big fight and she pulled the plug shortly afterwards 

* They called it quits in October after two years together but Bethenny Frankel and Paul Bernon are now giving their relationship another shot -- they split up because their long-distance romance proved too difficult but Bethenny really missed him and it turns out Paul missed her too and it seems second time’s a charm because a loved-up Bethenny and Paul indulged in PDA at a Miami studio as they watched her daughter paint with the artist

Page 26: Cover Story -- Meghan Markle exposed -- Meghan’s older half-sister is dishing some major dirt about the former actress’ rise to royalty in her new bombshell book 

Page 30: Inside Kim Kardashian’s escape -- Kim reached her breaking point with Kanye West months ago but took many steps before she finally left him 

Page 32: It Ain’t Over Till It’s Over -- these celebs more than made up after breaking up and they made it all the way down the aisle -- Justin Timberlake and Jessica Biel, Kelly Ripa and Mark Consuelos, Adam Levine and Behati Prinsloo 

Page 33: Kristen Bell and Dax Shepard, Chrissy Teigen and John Legend, Prince William and Kate Middleton 

Page 36: Beauty -- sweet dreams -- get better ZZZs and wake up looking gorgeous with products that nourish 

Page 38: Entertainment 

Page 48: Parting Shot -- Splashing out on a romantic getaway in Tulum, Mexico Bella Thorne and boyfriend Benjamin Mascolo made time to keep it tight on the sand 

#tabloid #grain of salt #tabloid toc #tabloidtoc #meghan markle #samantha markle #prince harry #emma stone #kim kardashian #kanye west #candace cameron bure #karlie kloss #olivia jade giannulli #rege-jean page #james bond #jessica simpson #drew barrymore #olivia wilde #harry styles #jason sudeikis #florence pugh #zach braff #zoe kravitz #karl glusman #bethenny frankel #paul bernon #john legend #ellen degeneres #brooke burke #leslie jones

[skylarmoon71]

Nick Amaro x Reader - Chapter 2

You were the first one to get in that day, sitting at your desk with a cup of coffee, waiting patiently for the rest of your team. After the arrest Nick made with the mugger, you were glad he didn’t suspect anything. Anyone who was there might have just thought he stumbled over his feet, but you knew better. This was also one of the reasons you left Central City. It wasn’t just the meta humans that occupied the city, but also your own meta abilities. When you first got them you were terrified. 

You didn’t understand anything and you tried to find a logical explanation for why items were always moving and breaking around you when you got angry or upset. Even when you had positive reactions to situations, there was something not so normal that occurred. After weeks of avoiding the obvious, you finally went to S.T.A.R Labs to get some answers. When they told you why these occurrences were happening you didn’t believe them, that was until you realized your very own captain was assisting Central City’s one and only Flash. Some things didn't have a very logical explanation. After meeting the rest of Team Flash, they helped you get a better handle on your partially destructive abilities. 

Telekinesis was a powerful weapon, but a very dangerous one. It took weeks to fully grasp your abilities, months to really control them. From what Cisco told you, you were merely scratching the surface. Neither you, nor anyone else really knew what you were capable of. Not very comforting information in your case. That’s why you practiced often, but only ever used them if absolutely necessary. So now that you were finally in a city of mundane people, you felt more than a little relieved. Less chances of you needing your abilities. At least you hoped.

The first person to walk in after you was Nick, with him was Olivia. Their eyes caught you immediately. “(Y/N), I heard you and Nick had quite an exciting night.”

“Yeah, that mugger must have the worst luck. Running into two detectives.” 

“I’d like to take all the credit, but I still don’t understand. The guy looked pretty experienced, then he just tripped. Must be karma.”

You laughed a bit nervously. “Yeah, well you know what they say.” Olivia disappeared into her office, and Nick took a seat at his desk. You sighed sipping on your coffee. “I need to be more careful, haven’t even been here a week and I’m already playing superhero.” You couldn’t help it sometimes. Being around Barry and the others really did rub off on you a lot. A small chuckle escaped you and you clicked on your phone. Watching the display picture with you and Team Flash. There were also a few messages on your phone from said members. 

Cisco: “How’s New York, hope you’re not throwing things around the building already.”

Barry: “Hey, if you ever get homesick don’t be afraid to call. Also Iris misses you. Be safe.”

Caitlin: ”Don’t over exert yourself, and take lots of vitamins. Also keep track of your blood pressure and heart rate.” 

Even Harry sent you a text, which was surprising since he acted like he hates everyone. You knew it was just a front. He loved them.

Harry: “Ramon is testing my nerves. Don’t be a stranger.” 

Your smile grew at your friends concern. You texted them all back, fingers moving nimbly on the keys. Apparently your insistent typing caught Nick’s attention. 

“Boyfriend blowing up your phone.” He inquired with a smirk. You stammered. “N-No, it’s just my friends from back home. “ You finished typing, dropping your phone on the desk. 

“I-I don’t have a boyfriend.” you stated meekly. It was a bit embarrassing. You were young, but ever since you were a kid, you’ve always been focused on your career, it didn’t leave a lot of space for relationships. When you finally got your dream job of being a cop, you decided you’d try to go on dates and meet someone. But then the particle accelerator exploded, and everything changed. 

You couldn’t afford to get close to anyone, mostly in fear that you would hurt them. Even though that wasn’t the case anymore, there was still a bit of unease of trusting someone to enter your life. You weren’t sure if they would be accepting of all that came with being with you. Nick didn’t miss the way your expression changed. 

“Hey don’t worry, you’re still young. You can’t rush those things, trust me. Relationships require a lot. When you’re ready you’ll know.” From the way he spoke you could tell he must have had his share of failed relationships. You wish you could have said that was the case, he must have just assumed you were previously in one that didn’t work out. You didn’t correct him. Just took his advice.

“Thanks Nick.” he tipped his head, refocusing on the paperwork in front of him. You did the same, just realizing the stack of files on your desk. “Straight to work I guess.” 

A girl entered the precinct, and you caught the way her eyes moved around the room nervously. You stood, walking to her. “Hi, is there something I can help you with?”

Now getting a better look at her you could see her swollen eyes, probably from crying. She couldn’t have been any older than sixteen years. She sniffed, rubbing her nose. “I-I...I was raped!” she cried. All at once she started crying, grabbing unto you. Your hands wrapped around her body to comfort her as she broke down and Nick got up from his seat. When he got to you there was a look of recognition in his eyes. 

“Welcome to sex crimes.” he said bitterly. That was aimed at you. This must have been the part of the job they disliked more than anything. 

~~~~

When the girl, Alica Baker gave her statement, you and Nick were off to apprehend the suspect. 

“I think you should go with Nick on this one. Some on field experience would be good. I'll work with Barba on getting a warrant for his place. “ 

Rollins and Carisi were headed to his place of work, and Fin was getting some other statements from neighbors. 

It was her own uncle. Hearing that was a gut punch. You’d never known your own parents, but you couldn’t imagine someone’s family doing such a terrible thing to their own flesh and blood. The thought repulsed you. When you got to the apartment Nick knocked twice. 

“NYPD, open up Mr. Baker.” No one answered, then you heard a lot of shuffling behind the door.

“Step back!” You obeyed and Nick raised his foot, kicking the door open. You both drew your guns, entering the apartment. You could hear things knocking over. You moved through the apartment, room by room. 

When you got to the last door Nick pulled it open and you were met with the very man you were looking for trying to force himself out the window. Nick grabbed him by the back of his shirt, yanking him off the window sill. He holstered his weapon, pulling Mr. Baker’s hands behind his back and slamming him harshly into the wall. “Going somewhere.” Nick seethed, cuffing him. 

“Whatever that bitch said she’s lying. I didn’t rape her she wanted it.” 

When he was successfully in cuffs you holstered your own weapon. 

“Yeah, tell it to the judge.” Nick snarked, pushing him out of the apartment. Mr. Baker was struggling the entire way down. “I’m innocent!” When you got outside Nick all but threw him into the backseat of the car. “Do me a favor and don’t give me a reason to shoot you.” Nick threatened. You took shotgun, Nick jumping into the driver’s side and pulling off to the station.

~~~

“His DNA is a match. We have enough to put him away for life. That’s not all. We went through his stuff. This wasn't the first time Alicia was assaulted. “ 

Fin clicked a button, a video playing on the screen. Your heart dropped at the content. “That’s right, you belong to me, no one else.” the sickening voice of Mr. Baker in the video almost made you throw up. You couldn’t believe what you were watching. “There’s over twenty other encrypted files on his computer. My guess is that he taped it every time he assaulted her. “ Fin shut the video off and you felt like you could breathe again. “That’s good, great job guys.” You nodded, glad to have caught the monster. 

“Please excuse me.” you said turning on your heels. Olivia didn’t fail to see the look in your eyes. “I’m on it.” Amanda called, following you. 

You made a beeline for the bathroom, as soon as you got in you started retching, leaning over the sink. You turned on the pipe, washing down the contents. Your head turned when you felt someone lifting your hair out of the way and rubbing your back. You cleaned up yourself, splashing a bit of water on your face before raising up. Amanda pulled out a few napkins, handing them to you and you took it thankfully. You wiped your face, a bit disappointed at your poor reaction. This wasn't how you expected your first official day on the job to turn out. 

“I’ve worked in homicide for seven years. I’ve seen countless bodies in the most horrendous situations. Yet, what I just watched was much more horrifying than any murder I’ve ever dealt with. How could he do that? H-He’s supposed to protect her from the world, from people like that! How could he!” you were angry and when the lights started flickering over your head Amanda looked up. “It’s just like that sometimes (Y/N).” she still looked a bit puzzled on why the lights suddenly decided to go haywire. You took in a couple of calming breaths, and the lights stopped flashing. 

You couldn’t afford to lose control, not here. “It’s alright, trust me the first case is the toughest. At least we can make sure he never hurts her again (Y/N). This is why we do the job. We don’t try to figure out why they do what they do, we just make sure they never hurt anyone again.” Amanda had her hands on your shoulder, giving you a small smile. You returned it weakly. “Come on, lets go book the scumbag.” you followed her out, pulling yourself together. 

When you were back at your desk Alicia spotted you. You weren’t prepared when she ran over crashing into you with a hug. You stumbled for a second. “Thank you Ms. (Y/N)!” she cried out. She was crying again, but this time they were tears of relief. You had no idea why she was thanking you though. “U-Uh, y-you’re welcome. You don’t have to worry. My boss has more than enough to make sure he never touches you again.” she clenched tighter. 

“Thank you so much, all of you.” her face was buried in your chest, and you returned the hug. 

“It’s alright, you're safe don’t worry.” Your eyes flashed a golden hue, and the light right above your head turned off completely. 

Nick blinked, wondering if he imagined the light he saw sparked in your eyes briefly. Your eyes seemed normal. “This job must be getting to me.” he shook it off. It had to have been the light from the window, yeah, that was it. 

#Nick Amaro #Law and Order: Special Victims Unit #OliviaBenson #amandarollins #fin tutuola #carisi #nickxreader #flash #metahumanreader #criminals #crime #detectives #NYPD #victims #rafaelbarba

[tinayoufatlarrdd]

She

Frankly, they didn’t start on the best term.

He met Y/N during a photoshoot for a certain famous magazine. She was assigned to grace the cover of said magazine with the photograph of the world’s most it couple, Harry Styles and the supermodel who gained the universal acclaim for ‘taming the baby Mick Jagger’.

It was all fun and pretty until Y/N accidentally stepped on the girlfriend’s polished toes.

“For fuck’s sake!” Harry screamed at Y/N as the supermodel girlfriend suddenly started limping her way to Harry, asking for some sort of first aid.

Y/N couldn’t stop muttering sorry, offering ice blocks, even kneeling next to the supermodel girlfriend begging for forgiveness. The creative director, the crew, the editors—the whole studio apologized countless times for the tiny slip as the girlfriend pouted, complaining about the unbearable pain, causing Harry to hit the ceiling.

He yelled at Y/N and refused to go on. Y/N, knowing her inferior position in the equation, could only look down as the apologies continuously rolled out of her tongue. To be fair, everyone in the studio (except the lovebirds, obviously) knew it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Y/N was capturing Harry’s solo session while the girlfriend fixed the hair and makeup. She was up next for her solo session and then it’s a wrap. Of course the photographer would move around; every supermodel should be aware of the fact that angles were plenty and it took treads to actually find the right ones. Y/N was constantly moving, camera on hand, eyes on the viewfinder, then suddenly the ‘big accident’ occurred.

Y/N was barefooted, she wouldn’t even be able to squeeze a hard turd if she ever stepped on one with that wonky heel of hers. There was no way she’d had caused the girlfriend that much pain. And nobody blamed Y/N as they all witnessed how the girlfriend walked on set with her eyes on the phone, hitting Y/N first. Nobody but the girlfriend and Harry Styles, of course. So they all just watched in silence as Harry cursed and threw a fit on innocent Y/N.

The power couple didn’t want to continue unless Y/N was replaced. The crew had to comply no matter how irrational the demand sounded. And on top of that, suddenly Y/N was plastered on the internet as the girl who assaulted the world’s biggest supermodel and Harry Styles.

She would never forget the overwhelming uneasiness caused by the sudden rave of negative reviews about her, all from people who endorsed and supported her in the first place but decided to be the footnote of the Hollywood sweethearts’ testimony: ‘awful to work with’, ‘nothing without the connection’, ‘a mediocre photographer who got lucky’, and ‘talentless’.

And she still couldn’t wrap her mind around that dreaded event. She had heard tremendous chivalry and gentlemanlike attitude when it came to Harry Styles yet somehow, he was nothing but a certified dick who put her job on the line that day. Some friends who remained loyal to her speculated that the girlfriend was the bad influence. Some even were convinced that he was voodooed. She didn’t care about either, all she believed was that he’s an absolute wretch with an extraordinarily thick mask. A media trained monkey was the term she occasionally used after a few tequila shots.

“That witch is his Yoko Ono, I tell ya,” the creative director told her during their final meeting—the meeting to let her go, of course.

She just shrugged. All she wanted was her old life back. And if Harry Styles and/or that supermodel got into some terrible misery in that comeback, that would definitely be her cherry on top.

She still got a few gigs, just not as much and definitely not with big profiles like she used to. For Pete’s sake, she was deemed a promising photographer by those fashion executives! She was only getting started. She would have never imagined that with just a short answer during a talk show’s truth or dare game—who’s the one person you’d never want to work with ever again?—the power couple could diminish her entire life’s worth of hard work.

Within the next few months, she’s back to square one. Every morning she tried to contact some old clients who would perhaps still deign to be affiliated with, according to the world’s biggest supermodel’s words on that talk show, ‘the rudest effin’ bitch I’ve ever seen in the industry’.

And after countless unsuccessful attempts, she went back to the cafe she used to work at when she’s still starting her career, not to network like she used to but to pour some coffee for other people again. She’s back with the apron and the napkin and she couldn’t stop being cynical over some hopeful youngsters who got signed right in front of her eyes, on the table she just wiped.

Her cameras were laid unused on top of her rack and the mini darkroom she built in her apartment became a storage room. Believing she had failed miserably in life, she found herself no longer had hopes on anything. All she knew was to get by the day.

It was a cold December night. Everyone else went home to celebrate the holidays so she decided to do the shift. She’d be paid double plus she wouldn’t have to face her family, which would go eerie in this state of her life, so it was the better choice.

Having had just finished cleaning the whole cafe, she put on her coat. She was ready to come home to… nothing. Her mind raced back to this time last year, where she was fully booked and couldn’t wait to come home so she could recharge herself for an exciting tomorrow. Her life had become exceptionally dull and it was painful to go on.

An abrupt banging on the door halted her train of desperate thoughts.

“We’re closed. Can’t you see the time?! It’s almost midnight!” she snarked, back facing the intruder.

“S- Sorry, love…” the hoarse voice was paused with a couple of hiccups. “‘m just completely devastated…”

She rolled her eyes as she turned around and she almost had a heart attack. There stood the man who destroyed her life, terribly wasted out of his mind. He could barely stand straight without holding onto the doorknob.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she rolled her eyes, asking some deity entity if there was ever one.

“Hey! I know yeh…” Harry tried to get to her but his legs just gave up.

Falling face first, Y/N really wanted to leave him on the street. But of course she had that little voice of reason inside her that constantly screamed, “If you abandon him, you’re nothing better than him!” She was a decent person and she really hated it this time.

“Come on up,” she pulled Harry up and lingered his arm around her shoulder to help him walk. “Where do you live?”

“I don’t k- know,” he giggled. “I can’t remember, love…”

“Try,” she slapped his arm when he almost fell off yet again.

The snow was pouring down and they stood by the empty crossroad. Harry wouldn’t even remember his own name by now and she didn’t know how to get to his house. There was no other choice than to bring him home to her place.

It was nothing short of hard work to carry a man twice her size to her house on foot since there was not even a single cab around. It was even harder to hear him tell a story about his first imaginary friend during that wobbly trip where he tumbled more than five times and she had to pick him up every time. But it was the hardest when she had to take off his shoes so it wouldn’t mess with her couch—he didn’t want to take it off, nagging her with numerous ‘Go away, Mum!’s.

When she finally got to lay on her bed, she was too tired to even think of what just happened. She literally did some cardio workout bringing Harry home safe so unlike her usual nights, she fell asleep quite fast this time.

It was around four in the morning when she felt a body of weight sunk into her side. She turned around to face his uninvited guest sound asleep, legs tangled over hers like a knot. She quietly removed her legs and tried to get up. She needed to move to the couch, or anywhere far away from this invader.

This is my fucking house, why am I the one sleeping outside, she thought to herself. Anger boiling at the top of her head as her movement was stopped by his strong hand.

“Stay here…” he slurs.

He didn’t seem conscious to her. Maybe he mistook her as his girlfriend.

“I’m not—“

“I know,” he cut her off while still sleeping. “Just stay here for a while. It’s cold out there.”

She sighed and laid back down. Stiff and uncomfortable, but obviously exhausted, she closed her eyes as Harry’s arm pulled her closer to him. She could only hope the night would soon end or better yet, this was all not real.

When Harry woke up, he found a sticky note on his forehead.

‘You were hammered last night, didn’t know where you live so I took you home. Nothing happened, you just sorta burst into where I work around midnight so I kind of had to not abandon you. Don’t make yourself at home because this is my home.’

He couldn’t remember anything. He remembered getting blind drunk after gulping those spirit shots but what happened after that was redacted. His surrounding was unfamiliar and there was no other sign of life other than him that morning.

After splashing his face with cold water, he looked around the apartment. It was modest but very personal. There were random film rolls hung by the ceiling as Harry made his way to the living room. He put on his shoes by the couch as he observed the vinyl shelf at the corner of the room. It was filled with 60s-70s biggest musicians, from Jimi Hendrix to Van Morrison—which grew his curiosity of the owner. There were books that he also read, and the series of psychedelic photographs framed by the doorway was the biggest tic that made him wonder: how did he end up in this hippie’s safe haven, one that he actually wanted to live in when he was young? Did he get so hammered that he traveled back in time? His head hurt too bad to even think of the possibilities, all he knew was there was something about the owner that felt familiar and he ought to know them. He had to.

Harry rushed to shower at his home and got some aspirin. After running some overdue errands, he immediately went back to the apartment. He knocked on the door a few times to no avail so he decided to wait by his car outside.

Y/N was relieved when there was no sign of Harry when she got home that night. She would be lying if she wasn’t a tad bit worried of him considering he could absolutely die that night if he went to the wrong place, but then again he was the guy who ended her career so she couldn’t care less.

She picked Nick Drake’s Pink Moon from her vinyl collection and put it on the turntable. Relaxing by the couch that still reeked of alcohol and him, she ignored the constant knock on the door. It was usually her crazy neighbor looking for his nonexistent cat.

It was the sixth track that she finally got up and opened the door, hoping to end the annoyance of her peaceful evening.

Her eyes bugged out when she saw the figure by her door. It was him again.

Harry, with his furrowed eyebrows and lanky feet, looked just as surprised as she was. He clearly remembered who she was and somehow, not even Nick Drake’s soothing voice could calm her down. Filled with rage, she slammed the door right in front of his face.

Harry was shocked to see her. He’d never thought in a million years that he’d ever meet her again, moreover lodged by her. He wanted to thank her but he knew she’d probably throw a glass of water to his face. But he could not just leave.

So he did the tackiest trick in the book. When the track from behind the closed door hit Free Ride, one of his favourites, he began singing along as loud as possible. Some neighbors shushed him, some even scolded him but he didn’t stop.

She heard him loud and clear. She ignored him at first, but then she received a noise complaint call from the super. Upset, she thumped her way towards the door.

“Stop it!” she gritted her teeth as she opened it.

He stopped. “May I come in?”

“What do you want?” she barked.

“Just wanted to say thanks,” he muttered low.

“You’re welcome. There,” she slammed the door again.

There was nothing he could do so he decided to leave for now.

He came again the next day, this time saying there was something he needed to give back to her.

“What now?” she wasn’t as upset as the day before, but was still unfriendly as they just stood by the door leaf.

Harry handed her the sticky note she left on his forehead the day before.

“You can keep it,” she said as she closed the door.

No slamming door. A progress, Harry thought.

He came back again two days after that, carrying a limited release Fleetwood Mac record signed by Stevie Nicks herself.

“Got Stevie to sign it. They don’t have this at the stores anymore,” he presented it as if he was doing some product placement scene.

“Look, Harry Styles,” she crossed her arms. “I don’t even know what the hell do you want from me but I really don’t want to have anything to do with you anymore. You’ve done enough.”

“Yes, about that…” Harry scratched his forehead. “’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” she pushed the door but Harry was quick to hold it open.

“I’d help you make things right again,” his green eyes were desperate for her answer.

She let out a heavy sigh and moved aside as if cuing him to enter her little bubble. Harry entered immediately, not wanting to waste any more time in the outside world.

She was listening to Neil Young’s Harvest Moon, to which Harry sang along gently. She could hate him all she wanted but he really sounded divine especially within close proximity.

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else, anyway?” she sat on the far end of the couch.

He put the record on the coffee table. “Where, exactly?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Some talk show to say some shit about me with the girlfriend perhaps?”

“Look ‘m really sorry, I truly am,” he sighed. “And ‘m not with her anymore…”

He then explained everything. How he fell in love for the first time in his life with the supermodel who was perfect, beautiful, smart, and everything he’d ever dreamed of. How he was so sure of her but she didn’t feel the same so he tried to show it with everything he’s got—grand romantic gestures, going public (which was personally hard for him since he was a very private person), and siding with her on every kind of problem even if it meant hauling over an innocent photographer’s coals. He also explained how he felt awful most of the time since he’d changed so much for a person who didn’t even love him back and he began to feel lost. It all then culminated a couple nights ago when she decided that it was all still not enough and broke up with him over a phone call. That’s when he went crazy with the liquor and ended up wandering around.

She felt sorry for him and although she knew he could be lying, she could understand his pain. So, she decided to accept his apology. She knew it wouldn’t change anything for her but at least she wouldn’t have to carry around so much hatred in her life and he could also move on with his life, not haunted by the guilt.

He promised to help her gain her reputation back. The two planned to make some exclusive photoshoot of Harry himself.

They began meeting every now and then. At first, they would talk about all things professional and did photoshoots. She started receiving positive feedbacks especially after Harry gave her the shoutouts—it didn’t take a split second for his loyal fans to swarm her online profiles. With her raising popularity she started getting bigger gigs again, even bigger than her old gigs. She quit working at the cafe and her darkroom was occupied yet again.

Then, they would spend even more time together. He would make up excuses to meet with her, like he needed to see how she developed her rolls or coming by with a batch of eggs saying he was worried she ran out of eggs. Y/N knew Harry was just feeling lonely after the breakup so she always let him in. Nobody wants to hurt alone, she always thought.

He soon didn’t need any more excuses as he had become an extended roommate of hers. He always said he wanted to live in the 70s and her apartment was like a dream home for him. She just brushed it off, saying it’s because of her hidden interior designing talent. And with each passing day, as they grew closer, her hatred dissipated and was replaced with something strange yet pleasant inside her heart.

She learned the depths of him that no one else knew and it all became the little things only she understood. She felt privileged to gain the limited access.

Sometimes he’d show her the sneak peak of his newest song and she would give notes as she watered the many plants around her place. Sometimes they would play board games while discussing the possibility of living on Mars. Some other times, Harry would lay his head on her legs, not saying a word while Karen Dalton’s magnificent voice filled the air.

Her favourite moment with him had to be when they did the impromptu picnic under the stars. With a bottle of cheap wine, portable turntable, and shared blanket, they laid by the garden as they talked about their fears and desires. That was the first time in such a long time she could open up to someone and he said that made him feel so special.

Of course he was special to her. That’s why she still tiptoed around him from time to time, avoiding conversations like her love life because she didn’t want him to think that she’d like him when actually the growing feelings inside her heart had begun to suffocate her.

The way he spontaneously baked for her (and snobbishly told the infamous ‘I was a baker’ story), the way he laughed at her jokes, the way his eyes sparked when they were dancing around, the way he snored a little when he’s sleeping, the way he called her name—she wanted to just sink herself into his warmth and never let go.

Yet she couldn’t help but wonder whether he felt the same way too. The frequency of the supermodel’s name mentioned in their conversations has since reduced to almost never, but she still felt a sting in her heart as she knew she could never replace her. She was, after all, his first love. And don’t get her started on the physical prowess which she obviously lacked in compared to the supermodel. She didn’t dare to ask Harry whether he’s really forgotten about her, afraid that he’d find out her true feelings for him. So she remained the same. At least, he would be still by her side.

At least, there would never be any rejections.

The city was already blossoming when she realized that Harry had left traces of himself on every corner of her place. The hung film rolls were filled with his silly expressions, so was the polaroid collections stuck on her walls. He had installed a pile of pants by the corner of her living room so that he didn’t have to bring any change. And of course her bathroom now had a pair of tooth brushes. It rocketed her hopes but still, her doubts crept inside her mind every so often.

That lazy Saturday night, she went home from grocery shopping to find Harry asleep on her couch. He looked so soft and warm and she couldn’t help but to run her fingers through his smooth hair. She nervously came closer to his face and pressed a tender kiss on his forehead.

She got up immediately, afraid to wake him up. To her surprise, he suddenly grabbed her arm.

“What was that for, love?” he asked.

He didn’t even have the bed face he usually had, which led her to believe that he wasn’t really asleep.

“Were you pretending to be asleep?” she pulled away.

Harry stood up just as fast and within seconds, he wrapped her in his hug. He placed a kiss on top of her head and slowly traveled down to her forehead, her nose, her cheeks. His lips roamed over hers as he slowly pressed them. It wasn’t heated and full of lust but rather deep and passionate as if he was taking his time.

It didn’t take long before they made their way to the bedroom and undressed each other with no rush. There was no spoken words, no roughness, just two people tangled up in heated infatuation.

When she woke up, he was still there. And it was beautiful.

It was still beautiful the next few months when they became a couple. He was her world and everything else was just background noise. He made her feel like the only person that mattered, as if everything that happened before ‘them’ was unreal. That this was the only real thing and it was all too good to be true.

Y/N should know better though, that life came just like a full circle. She just didn’t expect to actually be put back into the circle so soon.

They were invited to an afterparty of a fashion line Harry was strongly tied to and Y/N was more than proud to be by his side when he was introduced to be the muse that season. He was having the time of his life and so was she. The two held hands the entire time as they talked to everyone.

The belle of the ball, Harry himself seemed overwhelmed with the amount of love he received. He occasionally pressed her hand a little tighter when he was nervous, to which she’d respond with stroking his hand with her thumb. The simplest gestures that they’d developed overtime as they grew accustomed to each other’s idiosyncrasies or as Harry said, the good stuff about you.

That was until he saw a glimpse of her in the middle of the crowd that he suddenly let go of Y/N’s hand as if he was afraid that she would see him with Y/N. It would have been a little over a year since she last saw the supermodel and almost a year since Harry last met her.

All this time, Harry constantly convinced her that her insecurities over his love was nothing, that he only wanted her. And yet, he never even said those three words to her.

She knew now why he never did.

All this time, it wasn’t doubt that kept haunting her. It was a hunch.

The music was blasting but for Y/N, everything was silence. It only took a few seconds before she realized the look in Harry’s eyes. As if it was never truly her his eyes set on. That she was just a company to pass time. That she was the one he wanted just never loved.

She was never the one.

She tried to grab his hand before he’d be gone for good, and could only let out a faint ‘Please, don’t.’

But he could only mutter a little ‘Sorry.’ as he let go of her grasp and made his way through the crowd, trying to get to her, while leaving Y/N drowning in the sea of human who celebrated the man that she loved.

Part two.

Part three.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #tinayoufatlarrdd #harry styles fanfic

[sswwimagine]

Let’s Bet On It || George Weasley

Original Post: on ssimagines

Pairing: George Weasley x slytherin!reader

Word Count:

Summary: You and George are really close even though you aren’t in the same house. You are a chaser on the Slytherin quidditch team. On the morning of your match against Gryffindor, you make a bet with George over who would win the game, but things don’t exactly end up in your favor.

Warnings: major fluff as requested, stubbornness, embarrassing moments, quidditch

Request: Hi! I wanted to request a George Weasley imagine x slytherin!reader in which they both play in their house quidditch team (she’s a chaser) and are super competitive so they make a bet. The one from the loser team has to do something embarrassing in front of the whole school but when her team loses George says that he doesn’t want to embarrass her and fluff

Note: I really thought this was a cute request, so thank you for that. They aren’t together in this, but they end up together!! This takes place during Prisoner of Azkaban.

This is obviously already been posted, but since I started my smaller blogs, I wanted all my work for each fandom in one place. Instead of just reblogging everything I figured that I would repost it.

Request/Taglist

Masterlist

It was as normal as a morning in the great hall could be right before a quidditch match. Today was the great Slytherin vs. Gryffindor game. To say you were excited would have been a serious understatement. You were sitting at the Slytherin house table talking with your teammates about strategies for today. For the most part, you loved the game. The only real downside of it was that it often leads to aggressive competition between houses that you didn’t really like. You were more for the playful side of competition and you really pushed your team to taking the game less seriously and just have fun with it. That wasn’t always received all that well especially by Draco Malfoy who just viewed quidditch as another way to try to beat Harry Potter. 

When the conversation turned towards the crushing side of quidditch, you started to zone out and looked over to your “competitors” table. You saw the two, bobbing, red tops of your best friends’ heads. You smiled as you saw how animated they were about whatever story they were telling. You decided to join them. 

You grabbed an apple before standing up and making your way around the large tables to the spot in between the jokester twins. The two moved so you could sit between them without a second thought. You really enjoyed the company of the Weasley twins. They were joyous pranksters, and you loved that about them.

No one really minded that you were at the Gryffindor table because it wasn’t really all the unusual for you to sit with there. You weren’t really a fan of the whole segregation by houses thing especially between Slytherin and the rest of Hogwarts. Slytherin was always perceived as this evil group of people, but you didn’t believe a whole house should be described by a few people who came from it. 

Of course, you loved your house, but that didn’t mean that the other houses were awful. Just like your house, Slytherin, wasn’t evil, no house was what it appeared based on their very basic traits. You really judged people by who they were. For example, you weren’t Marcus Flint’s biggest fan. He was far too rude when it came to the way he coached your team. The littlest things like messing around with a fellow chaser, Adrian Pucey, got you in so much trouble that you had to sit out a whole practice while Cassius Warrington, who you were far superior to, got to practice in your place.

There were other people from other houses you also didn’t like. Percy Weasley being one of them because he was always getting you in trouble when you were with the twins. There was a girl your year from Ravenclaw, Juliet, who was always asking questions no stop in your arithmancy class. She made an hour-long class go into your lunch nearly thirty minutes more than once. There was also a boy in Hufflepuff, Douglas, a year older than you that would follow you around and ask if he could take your books all the time. No matter how many times you told him to back off he would follow you from class to class like a lost puppy. 

“You ready for the match today?” you asked George as Fred took over the story telling. He looked at you with large smiling eyes. You could tell that he was excited for the match today. As you took a bit of your apple, he brought his gold and silver goblet up to his lips nodding slightly.

“I can’t wait to beat you,” He said chuckling. You laughed heartily. You pushed your shoulder into his causing his goblet move and some of its contents to spill out. The orange juice splashed onto both your legs. 

Both of you jumped a little when the cold liquid made contact with your leg. You bumped into Fred on your other side. He stopped his story to look at the two of you.

“George, I told you needed to ease into asking her out,” Fred said. “When you jump right in, you scare the girls away. Play it cool, man.”

“Quit it, Fred,” George said. George’s cheeks tinted with red. It almost matched his pale red color. He reached around you to smack the back of Fred’s head. You looked between the two twins. Fred’s face was painted with a sheepish grin as he looked at his twin. 

Fred had this long-standing joke with no one in particular that George was into you. It really wasn’t funny because it only ever seemed to make George embarrassed and made you quite uncomfortable. Truth be told you really liked George, but you didn’t want anyone to find out. There was no way that he would lie you back because you were a Slytherin and he was a Gryffindor. 

“Sooo,” you broke the slightly awkward silence that had settled between the three of you. “When my house wins, what are you boys going to get me to celebrate my victory?”

“As I said earlier princess, I can’t wait to beat you,” George said bumping your shoulder like you had done to his earlier. You shock your head taking another bite of your apple.  

“Yeah there’s no way your team will win against us,” Fred chimed in. You looked between them and rolled your eyes. There were so many things you could have said right then.

“You wanna bet?” you snarked back after swallowing. The small crowd of fourth years that were listening to Fred and George’s story before you interrupted were all now staring at you as you challenged the rambunctious twins. The deal had caught Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell’s attention as well. They were sitting across from the twins and somehow you hadn’t noticed them until now.

“I don’t think that is a good idea Y/N,” you heard from a few people down. 

You looked to find that Ron was the warning voice. He was the youngest Weasley brother and often got picked on by the twins. You had witnessed it too many times to count. You had heard numerous horror stories from Ron about their behaviors at home. You had a feeling you were about to hear another one. 

“The last time I made a bet with those two…” Ron trailed off with a look of horror gazing over his face. “Let’s just say that they always win their bets. I’m pretty sure they cheat no matter what it is. Don’t put your stakes too high.”

The twins let out loud, bombing laughs that filled the surrounding area like a warm blanket. Angelina rolled her eyes, and Katie let out small chuckle. You looked to George who settled down and let a small smile grace his lips lightly. He placed a hand gently on your lower back. It was a feather light touch, but that along with his smile made your heart flutter. The touch was gone as soon as it came. He turned back to his place to shovel a bite of eggs into his mouth.  

“Okay, let’s bet on it,” George said after he swallowed his food and Fred settled down on your other side.

“And what Miss Y/N of Slytherin do you purpose the stakes be?” Fred chirped happily. You took a moment to think before concocting the perfect scenario. 

Fred took a swing from his goblet of orange juice as he waited for you to share your idea. 

“When Slytherin beats Gryffindor, you boys have to sing This is the Night by Weird Sisters at dinner tonight in the great hall,” You smirked as you took a big bite of your apple. 

Fred started choking on his juice cause a bit off it to splatter on Angelina’s fancy, she looked at him in disgust. You knew for a fact that Fred liked Angeline. 

There was a good chance his plan for asking her to Hogsmeade for the next trip were now damaged if not ruined. You gave Fred’s back a few hard pats to help him clear his airway. 

“If you will we will sing the Weird Sisters in front of anyone, but,” George started once Fred had caught his breath. 

“When Gryffindor wins, you have to ask Douglas the Hufflepuff out on the first date during dinner,” Fred finished. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see George tense as he brought another forkful of eggs to his mouth. You too stiffened. The idea grossed you out, but you were confident that Slytherin would beat Gryffindor. You had superior brooms, and you guy were on the field practicing as often as you could. You were more prepared for this. 

“Deal,” you said offering a hand to each of the re headed boys. They both took the hand offered to them and all three of you shook on it.

“Deal,” They said together.

“The score is sixty to twenty. Gryffindor in the lead,” called Lee Jordan.

You were flying in the air doing your best to avoid the bludger that was heading toward your head. You quickly swooped down to move out of the pathway of the flying ball. A beater on your team, Peregrine Derrick, hit the bludger away before its path changed to head toward you again. You nodded a small thanks before continuing on you path. 

“Fred Weasley hit a bludger in Marcus Flit’s direction.” 

You snuck a brief glance in your captain’s direction to see him be smacked into with a bludger hard. It took you a second to recover from the sight and you moved toward the Slytherin goal posts where Angelina was preparing to score. You quickly flew to intercept the path of the quaffle as it left Angelina’s hand. 

“Y/N Y/L/N has the quaffle.”

You rushed to the other side of your field maneuvering gracefully around bludgers headed your way. You went to throw the quaffle when you heard the Lee announce something you really didn’t want to hear. 

“Harry Potter has caught the snitch! Gryffindor wins!”

You felt your shoulders slump in frustration. You lost. Your team lost. Slytherin lost. You returned to the ground hovering just over it. You couldn’t believe it. You were struck speechless.

Fred landed beside you and pushed your shoulder. He was saying something but you weren’t understanding it. You couldn’t think of anything besides that you had lost. You were so sure that you were going to win this. You had put n so much work. You didn’t understand how you had lost. 

You didn’t even realize that you hadn’t moved. You hadn’t touched down. You still held your broomstick knuckles turning white, and the quaffle was tucked under your arm. 

Not only had you just lost this game, but you lost the inter-house quidditch cup for this year. If you had just been able to score more points. 

Slowly you lowered your broomstick the rest of the way to the ground and stepped off it.  You dropped the quaffle onto the grass and looked around the pitch the Gryffindor quidditch team was cheering with Harry on their shoulders. You looked at your team that was finishing the collection of the balls to put them away. They all looked disheartened. You looked back to the Gryffindor team and saw George who was watching you. He ran across pitch to you. 

“Hey are you okay?” He asked. His voice was soft and steady. You felt a warm hand on your elbow that slowly moved up and down your arm.

“We lost,” you said. “I was so sure we were going to win. I practiced so hard; I even practiced on days off. I practiced with you and it still wasn’t enough. I can’t catch a break. Now I have to go ask out Douglas. He just creeps me out.”

You felt tears running down your face. They were warm, but a hand came up to your cheek to brush them away.  That caused the tears to come down hard. The tears turned into sobs, and George pulled you into his chest.

“It’s okay, you did amazing out there,” He said as he ran circles up and down your back as you cried into his shoulder. 

He pulled you off the pitch and into the throngs of people heading back to the castle. He guided you along with him into a small unused staircase off the side of the pendulum. You sat down on the window seal and he sat beside you holding you. 

“I really don’t want to ask Douglas out.” You blubbered through your tears. “I know we made a bet, but he makes me really uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to. Fred will understand,” he said over and over again. You kept sobbing into him. Tears drenched his shoulder and as gross as it was there was snot there as well. He didn’t seem to mind as he sat there talking calmly and rubbing your back and arm.

“Thank you,” you said after about ten minutes. You had stopped crying and used your sleeve to wipe your nose. You looked up at him from your spot under his right arm. He took his other hand and wiped the remaining tears off your face.

“I wish you had told me how you felt about Douglas,” he said; his voice got quieter after every few words. “I wouldn’t have made that bet. I wouldn’t have let make bet. I would have walked you to class more. I’m sorry.”

The two of you sat in silence. His right hand still ran up and down your arm. You watched students slowly trickle in until there were no more. You knew that it was nearing the end of lunch by now, but you weren’t ready to face your team who would put all the blame on you or Fred who would expect you to go to Douglas and ask him out. You just weren’t ready. George seemed to know that as he didn’t speak he just sat next to you. 

He placed a slow kiss on your head. When he pulled away you turned to look up at him. His features were softer than you had seen them before. He cared and that warmed you. He brought his left hand to your cheek and ran his hand under your eye slowly and gently.

“Thank you, George,” You said for the second time in an hour. He let a small smile dance across his lips. You felt his gaze shift between your eyes and your lips. 

“This is probably not the time, but can I kiss you?” George asked. His voice was breathy and seemed to dance around in your head like a wispy cloud. You nodded just slightly, but he got the message and shyly came in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. It didn’t last for more than a second but ignited everything in you. When he pulled away, a smiled stretched across your cheeks. 

“This was worth the year and a half of Fred’s teasing,” He said chuckling. You let out a small giggle and brought your lips back to yours. Though you had spent almost twenty minutes crying over the stupid bet, you were glad you mad it. Had you not you wouldn’t be there kissing your dream guy, and maybe he would not have had the courage to confess his feelings that his twin had already spilled so many times. 

When you pulled away this time, you were more out of breath. After a few seconds, you stood up from where you had been sitting and stretched your stiff limbs. George did the same before catching your hand in his. Your stomach let out a small growl that signified you were hungry that you both laughed at.

“Can we go get some food?” you asked softly. He just nodded as he gestured for you to lead the way. 

“Can we do the kissing more often? I really liked that” George asked. You laughed at him as you pulled him out of the little staircase towards the direction of the great hall. 

“Yeah, we can as long as we don’t make any more dumb bets,” you say. He just nods furrowing his eyebrows for a second.

“Unless it pertains to a prank?” George asked. You thought for a second before answering.

“Unless it relates to a prank.” With that you walked to the great hall hand in hand.

#george wealsey x reader #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x you #george weasley imagines #george weasley fluff #george weasley angst #george weasly oneshot #george weasley oneshot #george weasley one shot #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfic #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine

[psychadelicrose]

Day 1: Adventure

happy @mastar-week 2019!! here’s to all of us having a good time <33 here is a dragon au because I love dragon aus and I hope yall do too thank u

lol this is a day late because I had no computer to post with yesterday but it aite uwu the premise for this is basically “maka is an unconventional princess who sought out the companionship of a dragon by herself, instead of waiting to be snatched up.” this chapter would take place somewhere in the middle of the plot! much love to my sweet potato @l0chn3ss for betaing and giving advice when I asked <33

AO3

It was strange, having nothing to do. There was no duty or task to keep her occupied. A quill in her right hand and a tutor to the same side, peering over her shoulder, is usually where she’d find herself now. Or maybe at a luncheon with a neighboring diplomat, listlessly sipping her tea or ferociously holding her tongue.

She felt a little silly, lounging in a meadow.

What doing?

Breathing in deeply, Maka lifted the book she’d let drape over her face like a silken mask. The pages fluttered and shifted like a fan as she did, and she saw that her spot had been lost. She huffed.

Reading, she responded.

Lie. No pages.

Maka giggled and set the book aside, allowing herself to shake the pages loudly for good measure. See, she jibed, not expecting him to believe her and not particularly harried to be believed. 

He tried again, not deterred. She could see him in her mind’s eye, with his head tilted to the side and ears perked just so. The amount of time he spent focused on her was almost exhausting, but she’d chosen this for herself. 

What doing? 

Breathing out, Maka smiled something small and secret. She rolled over in the grass and felt the sun tickle her skin, a kiss from the heavens and sweeter than all else. He was always like this, checking in and making sure all was right. He took his responsibility very seriously, although he was almost childlike in some of his approaches. He was as hard to predict as a summer’s night.

Napping then, maybe.

No nap. Wait there.

He wanted her to wait until he was there to watch her, is what she assumed he meant. His speaking skills were getting better, and the thought made her feel suspiciously delighted. Most of the time, his thoughts came across to her just like this. It was enough to understand, but anymore more complex was still difficult for him.

Hmm? she tried. There was no real urgency in the thought. She just liked to get a rise out of her dragon. It serves him right for leaving her to her boredom.

I said no.

Maka stifled a laugh at the severity of his voice. Lately, he’d taken on a tough-love approach when he thought she was being unruly. It almost never worked, but she enjoyed his concern and the novelty of it all. She’d love to see his reaction if she ever managed to sneak away to town.

And if I do it anyways? Maka shifted her arms until she could rest her head comfortably, still smiling to herself. The sun felt healing against her back, and the grass was supple on her stomach. Then, a sudden puff of air hit the back of her neck and caused her to shiver. Maka snorted into her arms.

No wings.

Pointedly keeping her eyes closed, Maka chose to reply out loud. She spoke to him flatly, not once believing he’d follow through with his threat.

“You’re blocking my sun.”

So? She could hear the challenge in his voice, and she itched to meet it.

A few moments went by without another word from her dragon. Cracking open her eyes, she settled on the black scales sitting in front of her like a statue, and another hot puff of air hit her skin. Maka looked up towards the deep, steel blue eyes trained on her.

“You never let me sleep out in the open, even when I do ask,” Maka pointed out. In truth, she didn’t mind. Curling up under his wings had become a guilty pleasure, one so embarrassing that she’d never let on to it. “I get hot in the middle of the night,” she fibbed. If she argued to sleep alone, he’d give her the flattest look that told her all she needed to know. “Dragons— strong. Princess, not.” It was infuriating, but she was determined to change his mind someday. However, she wouldn’t usually object at the current point in their journey. Not when spring was upon them and the nights were wrought with chilled mist.

Presently, Maka chose to blindly stuff her castaway book into her satchel to be with her other belongings. If she was going to be bossed around, she at least wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Yeah. Sweaty, he agreed. He looked down his snout at her and indulged in the heated glare she threw at him. She let a litany of annoyed tones move across their bond, to tell him that He didn't have to make her sleep there with him!

Not safe, he explained, not sounding serious in the slightest. He doesn’t move his eyes away from her, and she can see him not so subtly looking over her body for anything out of place. More? He bared his fangs animatedly, so much so that she could tell his intention was to pull off a smirk.

If he was truly fluent in her language, she could practically hear him at the edges of her senses, cackling and trying for, “You got a problem?” instead.

“Tyrant,” Maka snarked. She pulled one hand out from under her and used it to shove away his snout, squawking when he merely pushed it against her harder. One claw inched closer, as if to cage her against the ground. He’d never dare touch her with his nails, she knew, but he wasn’t afraid to roughhouse either. Rolling onto her back, Maka used both hands to shove at his snout instead. A goading rumble resonated from his chest, and the sound made her twist her body so that her boots could push up against his sternum. “Off, lizard!”

Annoyingly, he huffed a distracting breath in her face on purpose, and merely slithered his tail between his own legs so that it could wrap securely around one of her ankles. Before she could react, he’d pulled her straight out from under him, and proceeded to drag her behind him like a prize. He glanced back at her briefly, all to pleased with himself, and let loose a series of clicks she knew to be laughter. Maka just barely managed to grab her bag before being pulled away, and she screeched in indignation.

“Excuse me!” There is no reply, only a sly turn of his head so that she could see he was listening but wasn’t considering letting her go. She scrambled for any purchase and kicked her free boot against the knot of his tail, but nothing seemed to slow him down. It was only then that noticed he was dragging her towards the river. “Black Star, do not!”

Clean you, was the only explanation she received before he stopped short of the river, still holding onto her ankle tightly. She was sure she had grass in her hair and stains on the back of her neck. Maka let a loud groan escape, and banged her head against the grass in protest. She shot him a nasty look that she had no doubt he could feel.

“I don’t need a caretaker!” There’s another tug against her ankle, testing the waters. Maka used her stomach muscles to haul her torso forward, and tried to wiggle her fingers underneath his scaly tail. Black Star only watched her in amusement and tightened his grip. 

Funny. Heaving another groan through her teeth, Maka smacked his tail once for good measure. She pouted when it only served to sting the palm of her hand. Mosquito. His eyes shimmered something cocky.

“Throw me in the river already if that’s what you want.” Another tug to her ankle, and Maka’s hands flew backwards to grip the grass without looking away from him. Then, she felt herself sliding forwards again. He let her leg go just short of slipping into the water, and trotted ahead into the stream so he could look back at her in waiting. She threw another nasty look at him.

Bathe, he said. Important.

“I don’t need a reminder, thank you,” she told him dryly. A long silence stretched between them, and she contemplated making a run for it only long enough for his tail to start swishing threateningly under the water. If he’d truly haul her into the waters himself, she wouldn’t be surprised. And by the looks of him, he wouldn’t mind getting creative and splashing a few waves at her either. 

Either way, he wins.

Smelly, he grins to her across the link. If looks could scorch, she hoped hers were half as scalding as his fire.

In a last stand, Maka tugged off her boot and chucked it at his head. It hit him square in the snout before pathetically landing in the water and starting its lazy trek downstream. Her dragon only watched its descent without making a move to retrieve it. Maka didn’t move either.

“Go get it.”

Yours.

“I know.”

You threw.

“I did. Go get it.” Maka shared a long look with her dragon, to which he lifted his chin and leveled her with his own look. She felt minutes must have passed before the silence had grated on her nerves too much to keep quiet, and finally released a, “Tyrant!” Her dragon flicked his tail in the water, eyes lit with mischief. He didn’t even deny her accusation.

“Fine!” She waved her hands around incessantly to shoo him, and continued with a, “Just, go downstream and do what you normally do!”

All too pleased, her dragon made his way downstream to collect her shoe and find a spot far away enough to give her some privacy. He stayed close enough that he could keep a lookout, but far enough that she didn’t feel intruded upon as long as he kept his back turned. As a passing anecdote, he said to her:

Bathe then dinner then sleep. Walk when morning. Pouting suddenly, Maka called to him before he could get too far.

“If you keep feeding me before sleep, I’ll gain weight!” Black Star only looked back momentarily to say:

Humans must? Sturdy?

That’s not how it works, she thought back to him. She watched as he plopped down a ways away, unfettered by the rivers currents. She’d asked once why he preferred to head downriver instead of get out, and was only a little miffed to hear his reply of, Princess light. River eat you.

Which is to say, he thought that she was so light that the river would wash her downstream, and he’d like to be there to catch her. This had her miffed only because it was slightly true, and she’d only lost her footing once before and had watched his back twitch at the sound of sloshing water. He’d relaxed when she’d regained her footing, but she could tell he’d desperately wanted to turn around and check on her.

Fast. Need to eat, he called to her. Just for that, she thinks she might take a few minutes longer.

Heard—

Maka chucked her other boot downstream, along with the rest of her clothes. It was too much sometimes, the amount that he cared. Maka dunked her head underwater, willing herself to disregard the words spoken so earnestly to her by a dragon much too infuriating. If the crisp water bit at her flushed cheeks more than usual, she ignored it and sunk deeper.

Doting words shouldn’t affect her the way they do.

#mastar week 2019 #makaxblackstarweek19 #mastar week #mastar #soul eater #dragon and princess au

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

Great blog plant! Could BP, wishful thinking, restrict her events, maternity leave etc leading to less merching money, and less money for MM to spend on PR? First step splash her Insta merching to try to curb that? Media snarking they respect the Harkles wish for privacy and less PR articles accepted? Wishful thinking? Strong write has some fantasy US TV networks would cover MM and PH on events, cutting out British press..oy vey!

It’s unclear what BP can and cannot do. We used to think that everything had to be approved by BP but that seems to not be the case. They aren’t even told everything that is going on. 

BP and the British press are already pivoting to other royals like Sophie and Eugenie and that will get stronger over time, imo. Will it decrease the total Harkle press? I dunno. The US press will cover it as long as they put on a standard celebrity show and they are putting on a show, as that feet pic showed. 

The big test is going to be the Italy polo match, imo. I very much doubt the UK press will bother covering it and I don't see why the US press would cover it, but if the Harkles leak that they are taking the baby and the press is told they will get some good family shots, they might.  They probably will do that for a $1M jackpot, look how they kissed on cue for the Royal Salute moolah.

It just depends on how much of a circus they put on. The Kardashians get covered and so do the other celebs. If Harry and Meghan play the game they’ll get coverage.  It’s just a question of how far are they willing to go (two may IG pics of Archie are they willing to post and how may polo parking lot kiss pics are they willing to pose for) and how long the press will let them continue their “privacy” theater.

[hollandroos]

Blow a kiss, Fire a gun | Part 5

Teaser Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4

PLAYLIST

Words: 2.2K

Summary: You’re arranged to marry Tom Holland, Londons most feared mobster, but it’s never easy. He doesn’t seem to want you and you don’t want anything to do with him.

Tom knew he was screwed the moment you walked away from him in the club, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the floor surrounded by women that he could pay reckless amounts of money, none of which would leave even a dent in his bank account. But for some reason, he didn’t walk up to a single one of these women, too focused on following you out after telling Harrison that he was off. Not even bothering to bid his two younger brothers a farewell.

He wouldn’t admit that he kept his eyes trained on the bare skin that showed where your dress ended, spending the half hour ride home imagining what it’d feel like to run his hands up your bare thighs, pushing them aside and pressing rushed kisses on the insides until he reached your core. He wanted to hear you whine, moan his name as the words fell from your lips. They were dirty, unholy thoughts that he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt about.

Tom could only imagine exactly what you wore underneath that red dress. It took everything in him not to palm himself on the way home, but he wouldn’t give you the pleasure of knowing what you’d done to him so he simply tapped his foot impatiently against the foot of the car. This made it no surprise that as soon as the car pulled up, he jumped straight out, heading to his room where he ripped his black jeans off, gripping his length with one hand and the bed sheets with the other as he thought about you, the girl that only days ago he wanted gone.

Tom had always thought with his dick instead of his brain when it came to women, and in this case, it may have meant mistaking his growing feelings for lust. The mobster that didn’t beg for anyone didn’t chase or fall to his knees for any girl, wanted you moaning his name, and he was willing to put up a fight.

“I don’t know the man she’s just, she’s getting into my fucking head”

Harrison shook his head, a cheeky smile covering his features because for the first time ever, his friend was learning that sometimes you had to actually work for what he wanted, instead of kicking his feet up and bossing everyone else around. “She’s a fiery one, I’ll give her that. Are you sure this isn’t just about getting into her pants?”

“Of course not, I don’t want anything serious.” He tore up another useless piece of paper, chucking it behind him with the rest of them. “I’m used to girls running after me but now she shows up and she teases me and suddenly I’m fucking weak?” Tom groaned, shoving a stack of papers off of his desk. “God why isn’t there anything in these damn files” He muttered, slamming his laptop shut.

By now his office looked like an absolute mess but this was what Tom did when he was balls deep into a task, he made whatever mess necessary to find the truth.

“I don’t get why you can’t just find the people that threatened her when she was little and deal with them, then you could send her home and bam, you’re a free man once again,” Harrison said it as if it were the easiest thing in the world, eyeing up the stack of discarded papers.

“Don’t you think I’ve tried? There’s no traces or anything. It was all done so well as if it didn’t even exist in the first place or the person was really fucking smart”

His eyes fell over the contract, as well as the other information he’d collected about this girl and her past. All traces of their former mob was wiped, as was half of her childhood and any information about the killing. He’d buried himself in work, attempting to print off any documents, news articles, whatever he could find about you and your past but not much came up, much to his disappointment.

“Then take that information and go from there” Tom was getting frustrated now.

“I’m trying but god-, i don’t even have a clue what i’m looking at” Rolling up his sleeves, Tom dropped the paper. It was getting hot in his office, but maybe that was simply his anger.

“Her mother was murdered, correct?” Tom nodded. “How? You know some mobs have certain uhh-, ways of doing things, how was she killed?”

“I’ve looked for that too but there’s nothing, Haz, nothing. It’s like this is all some fucking test.”

“Keep digging, there has to be something. Very few people could completely erase something as big as this.”

That group of very few people consisted of his father, the man that could completely remove a set of people without a single raised brow. Papers were spread out all over the floor, empty cups of coffee lined the desk and Haz had to ask himself whether or not his best friend had gotten in too deep this time.

“Why don’t you find out from Y/N? If anyone knows it’ll be her”

“I can’t do that though can I? Who knows what sort of shit she’s been through”

“If this were anyone else you’d interrogate them, demand the truth but now you’re too afraid to approach some girl you’ve been living with for a week? What happened to my best friend?” Harrison snarked, snorting when Tom gripped the roots of his hair.

“You’re a fucking idiot. Get Sam and Harry, tell them that if they want to play even a small part in the mob, now there time. Inform them of what we’re trying to do and the rest is up to them until I find the time.”

It was the warmest it’d been since you arrived at Tom’s and you weren’t planning just to sit around and do nothing, so slipping on the bikini that’d been stuffed into your bag, you decided to explore the pool.

It was beautiful, different flowers and vines hung from the safety fence and you made yourself at home on one of the long chairs. You’d hate to admit that this place was slowly becoming your home but you were starting to feel more homesick by the day and despite how large the house was, you felt constricted, confined. You had definitely been thinking up ways that you could escape the large gates, knowing that if you asked to go home he’d possibly say no.

You were laying in the sun, a book in hand when you heard footsteps. You ignored them until they stopped, a shadow covering the sun and groaned because god, you were actually enjoying just being alone in the sun.

Noticing it was Tom, you put the book down, sitting up. “What’re you doing? Don’t you have work to do?” A part of you felt pleased that he’d found you this time, you were still proud of your work last night and were prepared to hold it against him.

“I saw you from my window and had to come say hi” He didn’t move. “Plus, I don’t want my men seeing my lady in nothing but a bikini” He teased, standing above you.

“You’re odly protective over someone you don’t give two shits about?” You stood up, taking the sunglasses you were wearing off and chucking them back down onto the seat.

“Did you come here to flirt or…?” He’d originally come out to ask you about your mother’s murder, but now he found himself drooling at the sight of you in the tight, black bikini.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m getting in, think your men can keep their eyes off of me for a bit longer?”

“They know better” Tom sat back, watching you walk down the steps and easily slide into the water. He couldn’t help but train his eyes up and down your figure, hating how the bikini covered the parts he desperately wanted to see.

The sun was out but he noticed the way you lip began shaking ever so slightly and his mind filled with ways he could warm you up. Tom mentally cursed, knowing he was working himself up yet again. But he couldn’t get that image out of his head, you grinding up against him, lips so close to his and the way your skin felt underneath his hands. It was heavenly.

You smiled wickedly to yourself when you noticed him stand up, peeling his shirt off but that wickid look was replaced by awe when you saw what was underneath. Admittedly, you underestimated the man. He was defined in all the right places and that awe only increased when he slipped his pants off, leaving him in simply a pair of boxers.

Tom would be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed the way your eyes widened, mouth agape slightly. Dropping his discarded clothing, he walked towards the pool, climbing in and swimming over to you.

It was cold, he’d give you that but your cheeks were flushed red from something else. The water was merely a factor but as he got closer, you seemed to back yourself against the side of the pool. Whether it was you trying to initiate something or simply trying to get away from him, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he’d been winding himself up since you walked off last night

“You left me very sexually frustrated last night, princess” Tom was awfully close to you now, his breath fanning your neck. “Do you think that’d be the end of it?”

Maybe a part of you thought that it’d be the end of it, but a bigger part of you knew that you couldn’t tease him and get away with it. Did you want to get away with it? “Not exactly,” you breathed out tilting your neck to the side a little and allowing him greater access to the skin, which he gladly accepted.

He pushed you into the edge of the pool wall, one arm around your waist, the other tangled in your hair as he fluttered his lips over your neck. Your eyes closed and you felt trapped, but almost in the best way possible as the water splashed around between the two of you with even the smallest movements.

This time you weren’t planning to walk away at the last moment, you needed this just as much as he did but you still didn’t want to give in to him so soon, but as he pressed you harder against the wall, trapping you between the concrete and his crotch you could practically feel yourself melting into his grasp, become almost jelly like underneath him.

“Tell me you want this” He coaxed, but you didn’t reply, simply stayed almost limp in his arms. “C’mon, the longer you drag this out the harder it is on the both of us” he pressed his lips to the area beneath your ear, sucking on the skin softly before flicking his lips over the area. The action was so gentle yet it almost made a small gasp escape your lips. “Tell me how much you want me and I’ll give you exactly what you want, poppet.”

It was hard to believe that only minutes ago you were shivering slightly, the water seemed almost icy cold but now it felt as if every fiber of you was on fire simply from his touches.

“I want you, Tom, F-fuck” You groaned, gripping the edge of the pool.

“Let’s get one thing straight, princess” Tom smirked, grinding his hips into yours slowly. “I’m in charge.”

The hand that was in your hair was no underneath your chin, making you look at him dead in the eyes and Tom couldn’t help but lick his lips as the sight of you, dripping wet and breathing deeply beneath him.

He hadn’t even touched you yet and your cheeks were flushed a bright red (though that was probably due to the cold water), eyes wide with need. His thumb went to your bottom lip first, wiping off a drop of water before planting his lips on yours roughly. For your first kiss together it was messy, definitely rushed and but his lips were hot against your cold ones.

Wanting to skip the chit-chat, you agreed. “You’re in charge, I get it”

The sexual tension between the two of you had been growing since the moment you first sat down in his office and by now, it was almost too much. You didn’t want to give up so easy, but you couldn’t help but fall apart.

Tom pulled away though it was the last thing he wanted to do right now, his mind was so clouded with lust and desire as he gripped your hand with his and staring at the windows. “Everyone can see us here, let’s go somewhere else”

PART 6 @barnsism @trashqueenbitch @gab-spidey @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @peterparkerdeservesbetter @ambrosmar @calmdownyall @xxxxdelenaxxxx @deadlyaffairs @stop-wonder-think @thollandtrash @butcanyoujustimagine @leni-lion-luke-larb-logic @highladyjel @study-at-the-disco @r-i-d-g-e-s @giuliavxox @dreams-in-different-colours @spideynblackcat  @vividcelestia @okayypotato @unknxwn-intrxvert @highkeymood @tra2embrel shqueenbitch @imahuricane @thefanbasewhore @lyssilinn @thebittygirl @spn-worm @theamuz @hollandsmuse @theromanmockingbird @revivalbenito @asfaraslifegets @avahodge @eternallovers65 @rosecoloredshawn @spoofagoofonyou @soldmysoultofandomshelp @wintersoldierbaby @lizzie-143 @laucontrerasv @heavydartysoul @noakantor14 @themegatron1999 @galcxykisscd @majestichoechlin @yellow–inlove  @fragcc @chasingsuperheroes @petersunderroos @letrashailen @eclecticbooktaster @hiccups-are-better @bubbles1642  @lydiasobrien @qtest-trash @carrotsunshine @ccold-as-ice @friedwhisperstheorist @moopai @naria-hime @dafnouche @ellebella1238 @ashram12 @jasxn-txdd-8-14 @laucontrerasv @lovee-roaslie @anytimebitches  @teenage-book-lover @faangirl101 @bored-green @curlshawnholland @tryn25 @xx-fandom-potato-xx @lowkeyspideyyy @fandomnerdsarecool  @fvckjamesbarnes @taylorjrs13 @cthoodaf @modern-day-citrus-cowboy @hellodarknessmysweetfriend  @hailhydrabarnes @overdramatic-teen @spideyboiiiiiiii @baileyxrudesalx @briefzipperapricotbagel @parker-underoos @officialchainreaction @aubreylovesthegames @shipitliketheussenterprise @your-1up-girl @peterparkerstolemyheart @dej-okay @0hanx @all-my-friends-are-german @captain-loki-xavier

BAK: @aussie-mantle @highladyjel @revivalbenito @spider-mendes @iris1697 @theamuz @zseonlydavinci @bridiereads @sophie2003003 @parkeret @baby-baker @marvelgladers @dreamsofbeingsomeoneelse @sighaislin @marvel-zip @oreosrockover18 @whystopkeepon@draqcnheartstrinq @hollanderheart  @peters-vlogs @no-aaaahhhh @underoosie @cosmetologynerd @holland-ish @kaciidubs @spidey-pal @call-me-wisegirl @khai-day-the-13th @leni-lion-luke-larb-logic  @panicatttckiss @marriedtopeterparker @stormyparker @mysticsthinking @elyshugh @spider-mendes @girl-in-the-chair @sort-of-pretty-in-pink @bloom003-blog @nextkaratekid @saracastickid @prof-scribbles @holyrose96 @riverdalemami @strangerthantheflash @sams-hollands @tiau-man @tiny-friggin-human @thollandtrash @amidblogger @tiau-man @zseonlydavinci @therealme13posts @zseonlydavinci @httpmcrvel @acciorinn @shakespeare-and-shenanigans @satellitesweetpea @maddie-leighhh @spideymanss @stephie-senpai @sherizaraiyah @tomsh0lland @spidey-pal @casualprincess77 @starlightfound @fandom-feathers @spidergirlwanab @smileyhollander @notthepersonyouwerelookingfor @tomhollandsworld @necromancer-inwell @doloreatroce @hottrashformarvel @fragcc @woosh-pear @spider-mendes @softhollandhoe @ill-be-your-temporary-fix @thegirlwiththestories @elyshugh @stilinski-parker @misscookie-monster16 @amidblogger @lovelynerdytraveler @tmrhollandkay @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @thedoctor-and-her-fallenangles @peachesnmei  @ocaptainmycaptainrogers @fuckmerunningtomholland @chingonaconcha @johannaapagan @tomhollandsmouthfr0g @cielofiorito

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland series #tom holland blurb #tom holland headcanon #tom holland au #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #mob!tom #mobster #marvel #mcu #avengers #fanfiction #prompt #Peter parker #peter parker imagines

[winchester-with-wings]

Black Eyes & Red Leather (Part 11)

~ The Flash / Supernatural Crossover Series ~

Request by @none-of-this-makes-any-sense : Okay so could you do a crossover where the reader is Barry’s gf who is really shy but then gets possessed by a demon… [I have redacted the rest of the request cuz of spoilers hehe]

Read Part 10 — SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: The Winchester Brothers reveal to Team Flash what is wrong with you and how to expel Roxanne and end this all!

Pairing: Reader x Barry Allen, Demon!Reader x Barry Allen

Word Count: 2600ish

A/N:  Barry’s POV! This is the finale! Afterwards, I will post an epilogue but here we are! The climax!!

Mobile Masterlist Ko-Fi (buy me a coffee to support me & my writing) Ask Box

“Is anyone else even slightly concerned about the fact that these Feds knew we were here?” Iris questions as everyone makes their way to the S.T.A.R. Labs lobby from the cortex.

Cisco had instructed the federal agents to meet them at the public lobby doors which had been closed to the public for more than a year.

“Well maybe they were able to ping someone’s cell phone. I mean, we’re all here on a regular basis…” Caitlin suggests.

“Just everyone play it cool,” Cisco mutters under his breath, sounding more than a little paranoid. He unlocks the doors and everyone gives the two F.B.I. agents a once over look as they step inside. Cisco and Barry were not oblivious to the way Iris and Caitlin seem to look them over a little more than necessary. The insecurities in Barry couldn’t help but notice that these men were tall, well-built, and more than likely very familiar with attracting swooning women.

“So what was this about again?” Harry starts the questions, leveling them with his smart and stubborn stare. Being from Earth 2 and having the face of Dr. Harrison Wells, the murderer, had put up his defenses right away.

The men flash their badges once more and Cisco snatches one of them to inspect it for authenticity. Team Flash isn’t about to let just anyone into their base of operations. Introductions are passed around.

“Do any of you happen to know Y/N L/N?” The man with shorter hair asks. The other looks around the abandoned lobby.

“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend. Why do you ask?” Barry steps forward.

“What are you guys doing here?” The tallest one asks, disregarding Barry’s response.

“I inherited the building. Again...why are you asking about Y/N?” Barry crosses his arms over his chest, defensive...as if the team hadn’t just been speculating about Y/N only moments ago.

“We’re investigating a series of crimes that started in Nebraska and New York and we just want to know if she has any useful information for us. Is she here?”

“Well, Agent Cobain,” Caitlin starts.

“Please call me Sam,” he interjects. He flashes a charming smile and Cait definitely starts blushing.

“Sam...she’s actually at work right now but maybe we can help you? We’re all close friends and Barry actually works at CCPD too.”

“Sure, and is there any way we could possibly get a tour, Mr. Allen? I remember reading about this place before and after the accident,” Sam asks and his partner rolls his eyes.

Barry agrees to a bare minimum tour, sending Harry off to the Cortex to lock away the flash suit and anything else that could give them away.

“Have you noticed anything strange about Y/N?” Agent Grohl asks. “Did she happen to mention anything out of the ordinary on her recent trips out of town?”

“Well...she did go there to investigate a strange police matter…” Barry starts.

“Has she been acting...unusual since her return?” Sam repeats.

“Look,” Cisco interjects, “I don’t know if you’ve heard of Central City, but we’re not strangers to unusual stuff. Everyone's a little unusual. She’s not a metahuman, if that’s what you’re implying.” Barry appreciates his friends dedication to protecting Y/N, even if something is wrong.

“Well look, ComicCon,” Agent Grohl starts in on Cisco, staring him down and taking note of his superhero shirt. “This isn’t some science fair experiment gone wrong. Something has happened to your friend.”

Iris forgoes any act of surprise and looks at the agents. Everyone is now standing just outside of the cortex. “Let’s say we know something is wrong. Do you know exactly what it is…?”

“Dean,” Agent Grohl finishes her question with his introduction. Sam and Dean exchange glances. Sam takes a deep breath and his brow furrows into a look of compassion.

“We realize this may sound crazy… but we believe Y/N Y/L/N is possessed,” Sam offers.

“By what?” Caitlin asks curiously and obviously suspending her disbelief. They’d likely say a metahuman and then everyone would be on the same page.

“A demon,” Dean answers curtly. Cisco snorts.

“No freaking way,” he smirks and starts walking into the Cortex; everyone follows him. Sam and Dean look around the room and seem impressed by the tech and their own investigation notes on the walls.

“Are you crazy? Demons don’t exist,” Barry argues. But then Caitlin catches Barry’s eyes and squints.

“Barry…” she murmurs. “Ra’s al Ghul? Vandal Savage? Damien Darhk?”

“Well that definitely sounds like a real Legion of Doom,” Dean snarks.

“Not exactly…” Cisco rolls his eyes and smirks like he’s just told an inside joke.

“The--uh--The Flash and The Green Arrow have had their share of villains that claimed mystical powers…” Iris explains for the benefit of the FBI agents.

“Okay, so maybe it’s possible but how can we be sure?” Barry admits.

“What makes the FBI even qualified to deal with this situation?” Harry tosses in his speculation.

“How about the next time you have dinner with your girlfriend,” Dean offers Barry a silver flask, “splash here with a little of this. Then you’ll know.” Barry opens the flask and sniffs it.

“Or…” Sam glares at his partner, disapproving of his technique. “You can just say...Christo. If she flinches then you’ll know.”

“And then what do we do? I don’t know if we can wait much longer to find out.”

“You don’t have to do anything. We’ll take care of it.”

--

It doesn’t sit well with Barry, tricking Y/N. He doesn’t want to do it, but the entire team convinced him that afternoon that something was definitely wrong and steps had to be taken.

Caitlin analyzed the contents of the flask during the discussion.

“It’s just water,” she’d explained while Cisco had a field day looking up signs of demon possession. By the end of that research, he’d convinced himself that several people he knew were possessed, including his second grade teacher.

“It’s Holy Water,” Sam explains. By now, everyone has been informed that they’re obviously not FBI and they’re actually monster hunting brothers.

“This all sounds so crazy,” Caitlin comments as Dean offers up a drawing.

“Any crazier that a city with a superhero?” Dean smirks, winking at Caitlin. The Winchester brothers still don’t know exactly who they’re talking to, or just how right they are.

“It’s a sigil. A Demon Trap. The second she walks into it, she won’t be able to leave it. Won’t hurt her,” Sam reassures them all. “You guys don’t exactly have a rug to cover up the drawing so we’ll have to get creative.” Sam looks around the room for solutions but Barry takes the drawing from Caitlin.

“I’ll take care of it. Won’t be a problem,” Barry shrugs.

“She’s going to be strong. And clever,” Dean warns him.

“Well I’m stronger than I look,” Barry replies. “Once she’s trapped, then what happens?”

“Exorcism,” the brothers say together.

Iris comes up with the idea to lure her in by ordering take out and having dinner at S.T.A.R. Labs and then going out for drinks later. It’s a routine gathering that shouldn’t seem suspicious. Y/N agrees to it over the phone without protest or suspicion. Before Y/N arrives, Barry mixes some of the water into her usual tumbler.

Sam and Dean leave the Cortex, choosing to take cover in one of the rooms off to the side.

When Y/N arrives, Iris and Harry are unloading the take out and distributing the orders.

“Hey Baby,” Y/N greets Barry. She kisses him and prolongs it with her hand clasped on the back of his neck. “I thought about you a lot today,” she whispers near his ear. It feels like her tongue darts out to tease his earlobe and Barry flinches.

“Sorry, it just tickled,” Barry half-smiled. “Here.” Barry offers her the water but she doesn’t drink it right away.

“You know what I’d love…? To take you home, finish off a bottle of tequila and a box of chocolates, and then fuck in the shower,” Y/N speaks under her breath and close to Barry so that no one else overhears. Barry’s cock betrays him by reacting but he pushes that arousal off.

“Babe, you know I can’t get drunk.” Well isn’t that a red flag, Barry thinks to himself. She knew better. She plays it off and just kisses him quickly before greeting everyone else. They’re all watching her...eyeballing the drink in her hand.

Everyone exchanges pleasantries and discuss their days. Y/N seems to be acting normal...although Barry can’t help checking her out. He loves how she’s dressed and there’s an air of confidence around her.

He’s starting to wonder if everyone has been wrong and Y/N has simply made some personal changes…

But then she takes a sip of her water…

Hissssss!

“Ahhh! What the fuck!” Y/N lurches out of her chair, shooting the piece of furniture far behind her and across the room.

Everyone jumps out of their chair in alarm. Barry’s heart falls to the pit of his stomach, weighed heavily with guilt and devastation.

The smell of smoke is in the air and appears to be coming from Y/N’s mouth. She’s crouching and has spilled the water on the ground.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Harry feigns ignorance as the person closest to her. Before looking up, she reaches out and touches a few drops of the water. The liquid sizzles on her skin. “Christo,” he dares to speak. As promised, she flinches.

“Oh...I think you know the answer to that.” Y/N’s gaze rises from the floor. Everyone takes a step back.

Her eyes are pitch black. She raises a hand.

Harry suddenly tenses, gasping as if his throat is constricted.

“Whoa! Hey! What are you doing?!” Cisco shouts. “She’s force-choking him! Like Darth Vader! Let him go!”

“Y/N, stop!” Barry steps in-between her and Harry and holds up his hands in defense. Her invisible chokehold doesn’t relent.

“Y/N’s not here at the moment,” she sneers, her voice overlapped by another. Cisco takes a step towards her. She waves her other hand and Cisco flies across the room; Caitlin cries out and runs to his aid. “Not another step!” Her voice is normal again.

With her eyes trained on Cisco, Barry seizes the moment. Lightning encircles Y/N, sweeps around her and under her. She stumbles and her hold on Harry is lost. When Barry is back at Harry’s side, Y/N is standing within a Devil’s Trap.

She looks around her and curses under her breath, shaking her head.

“What’s going on? What’s happened to you?” Iris asks, trying to control the situation.

“Bitch, you know exactly what happened.” She rolls her eyes and smirks at Iris. “Who told you? Fucking Winchesters, huh?” Rather than giving her the satisfaction, Barry sighs.

“I should’ve known something was wrong.”

“Yeah...Duh! You think little ol’ Y/N can rock your world in the sack like that? No. But I did you two a favor, huh?” Barry can’t maintain eye contact for a moment.

“What have you done with Y/N?” Caitlin asks, her voice quivering.

“She’s still in here. Her personality still shines through, doesn’t it? I know her every secret...granted there aren’t many...” Y/N shrugs. Sam and Dean enter the room. Barry notices that Dean is eyeing him warily. They’d seen him draw the trap. Y/N notices the exchange of looks. “Oops, secret’s out Barry. Now two more people know you’re the Flash. Way to go,” she snarks. Barry grimaces. He’s getting tired of the demon’s attitude and her dead black eyes.

“So which demon are we dealing with?” Dean asks. He brandishes a serrated knife with etchings in the blade.

“What are you doing with that?” Barry asks, panicking. Y/N struts to the very edge of the Demon Trap. She stops when Dean holds the blade to her throat.

“No!” Barry stands between them in half a second, pushing Dean backwards. The hunter looks both confused and frustrated at the interference.

Y/N peeks over Barry’s shoulder. “The Flash isn’t going to let you use that witchy demon knife on me. You’d kill us both,” she giggles. “I like to go by Roxanne nowadays,” Y/N trains her eyes on Dean and Sam. She’s flirting with them, even putting away the black eyes. “Are you a fan of my work?”

“You could say that,” Dean comments. “Crowley’s been looking for you too.”

“Oh? Are you his errand boys?” Dean’s smirk disappears. He gestures to Sam.

“Exorcizamus, te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanic potestas…”

“Oh fuck. Come on boys, there’s gotta be a way around this…” Barry can finally hear a hint of fear in her voice. He starts to back away from her. She tries to take a step forward but can’t leave the Devil’s Trap. “Y/N and I are really good together! Let us show you a good time,” she offers, starting to unbutton her blouse. She rolls her head from side to side though like she’s in pain and trying to fix a crick in her neck.

“Hurry up,” Barry whispers. Sam continues the exorcism, reciting from memory.

“Barry, you’re not going to let them do this to me, are you? We’ve had fun!” He voice shakes and her face twists with agony. “I...I love you!”

She starts to plead but when she gets no reaction from him, she grimaces.

“Fine,” she barks; her eyes are black again. “I’ll leave but I can’t make any promises about Y/N.” Barry freezes and his eyes go wide. “For all you know, she’s got some fatal wounds and I’m the only thing keeping her alive. You sure you wanna risk that Barry?”

“Barry, don’t listen to her. Demons lie to get what they want,” Dean cautions.

“Are you sure though? How can you be sure?” Barry asks as Y/N’s body starts to shake and fall to her knees. Her head falls back.

“Just have to trust us!” he shouts over Y/N’s screams.

“Ut ecclesiam tuam secus, tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!” Sam finishes and a dark cloud of smoke expels from Y/N’s mouth. She crumbles to the floor just as the demon smoke spirals downward to the floor and disappears.

When Dean gives the all clear, Barry rushes into the Devil’s Trap to cradle Y/N’s limp form. She appears to be breathing. In the background, he hears Sam explain to Iris and Caitlin that the demon was sent back to Hell.

“Y/N? Y/N, baby, please...wake up...please answer me...open your eyes, sweetheart,” Barry pleads, brushing her hair away from her face. She doesn’t appear to be injured.

Caitlin is standing by, ready to check on her as well. Iris is beside Harry and Cisco, covering her mouth and holding back tears. Cisco’s hands are tangled in his hair and Harry is frozen like a statue, a bruise on his throat is already developing.

Barry wraps his arms around Y/N, holding her close and rocking her back and forth.

“Please, baby, it’s me, come back to me,” he whispers, tears falling from his eyes and landing on her cheeks.

She stirs suddenly, gasping for breath as if she’d been held under water.

“Barry? Barry?” she gasps. “Where is she? Where’s Roxanne? We can’t let her get away!” she speaks frantically. Barry grabs one of her hands to stop her flailing.

“I’m right here. Right here. We’re all here for you. And she’s gone. Roxanne is gone.”

“Roxy’s gone?” she repeats.

“Yes, she’s gone.”

The entire room breathes a sigh of relief.

Epilogue coming soon!

Ask Box

Tagging: @faithtrustandpixiedust95​ @thinkwritexpress-official​ @autoblocked​ @talesoftheimpala​ @book-loving--anime-chick​ @overlyobsethed​ @abbessolute​ @bookworm4ever99​ @whoopxd​ @geeksareunique​ @therealcap​ @potterwolf16​ @ravenhaviland​ @maia11lucero​ @nochillscientist​ @fastmanallen​ @mrsbarry-allen-1031​ @gryffindorable713​ @team-barry​ @shadowpriestess6​ @none-of-this-makes-any-sense​ ​ @beautiful-and-strange​ @gracehappyfeet​ @havingfunenjoyinglife​ @beautifulfound​ @super-slick-fanfic-chick​ @explosive-cabbage​ @new-york3​ @voidmendes-24​ @deanskitten​ @odr-dc​

#Barry Allen #my writing #Barry Allen x Reader #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #crossover fic #Barry x Reader #Demon!reader #Barry Allen Imagine #The Flash Imagine #The Flash fanfic #Flash imagine #Grant Gustin #The Flash #DC #CW DC universe #Barry Allen fluff #Barry Allen smut #spn fic #Cisco Ramon #Iris West #Caitlin Snow #Harry Wells

[ssimagines]

Let’s Bet on it ||George Weasley

Pairing: George Weasley x slytherin!reader

Word Count:

Summary: You and George are really close even though you aren’t in the same house. You are a chaser on the Slytherin quidditch team. On the morning of your match against Gryffindor, you make a bet with George over who would win the game, but things don’t exactly end up in your favor. 

Warnings: major fluff as requested, stubbornness, embarrassing moments, quidditch

Request: Hi! I wanted to request a George Weasley imagine x slytherin!reader in which they both play in their house quidditch team (she's a chaser) and are super competitive so they make a bet. The one from the loser team has to do something embarrassing in front of the whole school but when her team loses George says that he doesn't want to embarrass her and fluff

Note: I really thought this was a cute request, so thank you for that. They aren’t together in this, but they end up together!! This takes place during Prisoner of Azkaban.

Masterlist

It was as normal as a morning in the great hall could be right before a quidditch match. Today was the great Slytherin vs. Gryffindor game. To say you were excited would have been a serious understatement. You were sitting at the Slytherin house table talking with your teammates about strategies for today.

For the most part, you loved the game. The only real downside of it was that it often leads to aggressive competition between houses that you didn’t really like. You were more for the playful side of competition and you really pushed your team to taking the game less seriously and just have fun with it. That wasn’t always received all that well especially by Draco Malfoy who just viewed quidditch as another way to try to beat Harry Potter.

When the conversation turned towards the crushing side of quidditch, you started to zone out and looked over to your “competitors” table. You saw the two, bobbing, red tops of your best friends’ heads. You smiled as you saw how animated they were about whatever story they were telling. You decided to join them.

You grabbed an apple before standing up and making your way around the large tables to the spot in between the jokester twins. The two moved so you could sit between them without a second thought. You really enjoyed the company of the Weasley twins. They were joyous pranksters, and you loved that about them.

No one really minded that you were at the Gryffindor table because it wasn’t really all the unusual for you to sit with there. You weren’t really a fan of the whole segregation by houses thing especially between Slytherin and the rest of Hogwarts. Slytherin was always perceived as this evil group of people, but you didn’t believe a whole house should be described by a few people who came from it.

Of course, you loved your house, but that didn’t mean that the other houses were awful. Just like your house, Slytherin, wasn’t evil, no house was what it appeared based on their very basic traits. You really judged people by who they were. For example, you weren’t Marcus Flint’s biggest fan. He was far too rude when it came to the way he coached your team. The littlest things like messing around with a fellow chaser, Adrian Pucey, got you in so much trouble that you had to sit out a whole practice while Cassius Warrington, who you were far superior to, got to practice in your place.

There were other people from other houses you also didn’t like. Percy Weasley being one of them because he was always getting you in trouble when you were with the twins. There was a girl your year from Ravenclaw, Juliet, who was always asking questions no stop in your arithmancy class. She made an hour-long class go into your lunch nearly thirty minutes more than once. There was also a boy in Hufflepuff, Douglas, a year older than you that would follow you around and ask if he could take your books all the time. No matter how many times you told him to back off he would follow you from class to class like a lost puppy.

“You ready for the match today?” you asked George as Fred took over the story telling. He looked at you with large smiling eyes. You could tell that he was excited for the match today. As you took a bit of your apple, he brought his gold and silver goblet up to his lips nodding slightly.

“I can’t wait to beat you,” He said chuckling. You laughed heartily. You pushed your shoulder into his causing his goblet move and some of its contents to spill out. The orange juice splashed onto both your legs.

Both of you jumped a little when the cold liquid made contact with your leg. You bumped into Fred on your other side. He stopped his story to look at the two of you.

“George, I told you needed to ease into asking her out,” Fred said. “When you jump right in, you scare the girls away. Play it cool, man.”

“Quit it, Fred,” George said. George’s cheeks tinted with red. It almost matched his pale red color. He reached around you to smack the back of Fred’s head. You looked between the two twins. Fred’s face was painted with a sheepish grin as he looked at his twin.

Fred had this long-standing joke with no one in particular that George was into you. It really wasn’t funny because it only ever seemed to make George embarrassed and made you quite uncomfortable. Truth be told you really liked George, but you didn’t want anyone to find out. There was no way that he would lie you back because you were a Slytherin and he was a Gryffindor.

“Sooo,” you broke the slightly awkward silence that had settled between the three of you. “When my house wins, what are you boys going to get me to celebrate my victory?”

“As I said earlier princess, I can’t wait to beat you,” George said bumping your shoulder like you had done to his earlier. You shock your head taking another bite of your apple.  

“Yeah there’s no way your team will win against us,” Fred chimed in. You looked between them and rolled your eyes. There were so many things you could have said right then.

“You wanna bet?” you snarked back after swallowing. The small crowd of fourth years that were listening to Fred and George’s story before you interrupted were all now starring at you as you challenged the rambunctious twins. The deal had caught Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell’s attention as well. They were sitting across from the twins and somehow you hadn’t noticed them until now.

“I don’t think that is a good idea Y/N,” you heard from a few people down.

You looked to find that Ron was the warning voice. He was the youngest Weasley brother and often got picked on by the twins. You had witnessed it too many times to count. You had heard numerous horror stories from Ron about their behaviors at home. You had a feeling you were about to hear another one.

“The last time I made a bet with those two…” Ron trailed off with a look of horror gazing over his face. “Let’s just say that they always win their bets. I’m pretty sure they cheat no matter what it is. Don’t put your stakes too high.”

The twins let out loud, bombing laughs that filled the surrounding area like a warm blanket. Angelina rolled her eyes, and Katie let out small chuckle. You looked to George who settled down and let a small smile grace his lips lightly. He placed a hand gently on your lower back. It was a feather light touch, but that along with his smile made your heart flutter. The touch was gone as soon as it came. He turned back to his place to shovel a bite of eggs into his mouth.  

“Okay, let’s bet on it,” George said after he swallowed his food and Fred settled down on your other side.

“And what Miss Y/N of Slytherin do you purpose the stakes be?” Fred chirped happily. You took a moment to think before concocting the perfect scenario. Fred took a swing from his goblet of orange juice as he waited for you to share your idea.

“When Slytherin beats Gryffindor, you boys have to sing This is the Night by Weird Sisters at dinner tonight in the great hall,” You smirked as you took a big bite of your apple.

Fred started choking on his juice cause a bit off it to splatter on Angelina’s fancy, she looked at him in disgust. You knew for a fact that Fred liked Angeline. There was a good chance his plan for asking her to Hogsmeade for the next trip were now damaged if not ruined. You gave Fred’s back a few hard pats to help him clear his airway.

“If you will we will sing the Weird Sisters in front of anyone, but,” George started once Fred had caught his breath.

“When Gryffindor wins, you have to ask Douglas the Hufflepuff out on the first date during dinner,” Fred finished.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see George tense as he brought another forkful of eggs to his mouth. You too stiffened. The idea grossed you out, but you were confident that Slytherin would beat Gryffindor. You had superior brooms, and you guy were on the field practicing as often as you could. You were more prepared for this.

“Deal,” you said offering a hand to each of the re headed boys. They both took the hand offered to them and all three of you shook on it.

“Deal,” They said together.

“The score is sixty to twenty. Gryffindor in the lead,” called Lee Jordan.

You were flying in the air doing your best to avoid the bludger that was heading toward your head. You quickly swooped down to move out of the pathway of the flying ball. A beater on your team, Peregrine Derrick, hit the bludger away before its path changed to head toward you again. You nodded a small thanks before continuing on you path.

“Fred Weasley hit a bludger in Marcus Flit’s direction.”

You snuck a brief glance in your captain’s direction to see him be smacked into with a bludger hard. It took you a second to recover from the sight and you moved toward the Slytherin goal posts where Angelina was preparing to score. You quickly flew to intercept the path of the quaffle as it left Angelina’s hand.

“Y/N Y/L/N has the quaffle.”

You rushed to the other side of your field maneuvering gracefully around bludgers headed your way. You went to throw the quaffle when you heard the Lee announce something you really didn’t want to hear.

“Harry Potter has caught the snitch! Gryffindor wins!”

You felt your shoulders slump in frustration. You lost. Your team lost. Slytherin lost. You returned to the ground hovering just over it. You couldn’t believe it. You were struck speechless.

Fred landed beside you and pushed your shoulder. He was saying something but you weren’t understanding it. You couldn’t think of anything besides that you had lost. You were so sure that you were going to win this. You had put n so much work. You didn’t understand how you had lost.

You didn’t even realize that you hadn’t moved. You hadn’t touched down. You still held your broomstick knuckles turning white, and the quaffle was tucked under your arm.

Not only had you just lost this game, but you lost the inter-house quidditch cup for this year. If you had just been able to score more points.

Slowly you lowered your broomstick the rest of the way to the ground and stepped off it.  You dropped the quaffle onto the grass and looked around the pitch the Gryffindor quidditch team was cheering with Harry on their shoulders. You looked at your team that was finishing the collection of the balls to put them away. They all looked disheartened. You looked back to the Gryffindor team and saw George who was watching you. He ran across pitch to you.

“Hey are you okay?” He asked. His voice was soft and steady. You felt a warm hand on your elbow that slowly moved up and down your arm.

“We lost,” you said. “I was so sure we were going to win. I practiced so hard; I even practiced on days off. I practiced with you and it still wasn’t enough. I can’t catch a break. Now I have to go ask out Douglas. He just creeps me out.”

You felt tears running down your face. They were warm, but a hand came up to your cheek to brush them away. That caused the tears to come down hard. The tears turned into sobs, and George pulled you into his chest.

“It’s okay, you did amazing out there,” He said as he ran circles up and down your back as you cried into his shoulder.

He pulled you off the pitch and into the throngs of people heading back to the castle. He guided you along with him into a small unused staircase off the side of the pendulum. You sat down on the window seal and he sat beside you holding you.

“I really don’t want to ask Douglas out.” You blubbered through your tears. “I know we made a bet, but he makes me really uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to. Fred will understand,” he said over and over again. You kept sobbing into him. Tears drenched his shoulder and as gross as it was there was snot there as well. He didn’t seem to mind as he sat there talking calmly and rubbing your back and arm.

“Thank you,” you said after about ten minutes. You had stopped crying and used your sleeve to wipe your nose. You looked up at him from your spot under his right arm. He took his other hand and wiped the remaining tears off your face.

“I wish you had told me how you felt about Douglas,” he said; his voice got quieter after every few words. “I wouldn’t have made that bet. I wouldn’t have let make bet. I would have walked you to class more. I’m sorry.”

The two of you sat in silence. His right hand still ran up and down your arm. You watched students slowly trickle in until there were no more. You knew that it was nearing the end of lunch by now, but you weren’t ready to face your team who would put all the blame on you or Fred who would expect you to go to Douglas and ask him out. You just weren’t ready. George seemed to know that as he didn’t speak he just sat next to you.

He placed a slow kiss on your head. When he pulled away you turned to look up at him. His features were softer than you had seen them before. He cared and that warmed you. He brought his left hand to your cheek and ran his hand under your eye slowly and gently.

“Thank you, George,” You said for the second time in an hour. He let a small smile dance across his lips. You felt his gaze shift between your eyes and your lips.

“This is probably not the time, but can I kiss you?” George asked. His voice was breathy and seemed to dance around in your head like a wispy cloud.

You nodded just slightly, but he got the message and shyly came in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. It didn’t last for more than a second but ignited everything in you. When he pulled away, a smiled stretched across your cheeks.

“This was worth the year and a half of Fred’s teasing,” He said chuckling. You let out a small giggle and brought your lips back to yours. Though you had spent almost twenty minutes crying over the stupid bet, you were glad you mad it. Had you not you wouldn’t be there kissing your dream guy, and maybe he would not have had the courage to confess his feelings that his twin had already spilled so many times.

When you pulled away this time, you were more out of breath. After a few seconds, you stood up from where you had been sitting and stretched your stiff limbs. George did the same before catching your hand in his. Your stomach let out a small growl that signified you were hungry that you both laughed at.

“Can we go get some food?” you asked softly. He just nodded as he gestured for you to lead the way.

“Can we do the kissing more often? I really liked that” George asked. You laughed at him as you pulled him out of the little staircase towards the direction of the great hall.

“Yeah, we can as long as we don’t make any more dumb bets,” you say. He just nods furrowing his eyebrows for a second.

“Unless it pertains to a prank?” George asked. You thought for a second before answering.

“Unless it relates to a prank.”

With that you walked to the great hall hand in hand.

#george weasley imagine #george weasley #george weasley x reader #slytherin #slytherin!reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter #quidditch #hogwarts #hogwarts imagine #let's bet on it #fluff #george weasley fluff

[ironverseocs]

canon muses

Anthony Edward Stark - tag: to stave off something worse ( Tony )

Harrison Parker Wells - tag: with a splash of snark ( Harry )

Shawn Spencer - tag: not a party without a pineapple ( Shawn )

Shuri Udaku - tag: anything can be bettered ( Shuri )

Peter Bishop - tag: beneath every cynic; a frustrated romantic ( Peter )

Michelle Harper Jones - tag: conceal but be real ( Michelle )

The Doctor - tag: tenth time’s victorious ( The Doctor )

Molly Weasley II - tag: soul on fire reaching higher ( Molly )

Theseus Scamander - tag: fighting the right good fight ( Theseus )

*italicised are the new additions

#not a party without a pineapple ( Shawn ) #beneath every cynic; a frustrated romantic ( Peter ) #shawn spencer #peter bishop #psych #fringe #tag update #P. as in PSA ( updates )

[bipilots]

Here's a thought: Lance although cocky about his looks is low key self conscious of himself so Keith gives him little butterfly kisses all over while telling him why he's beautiful and special.

Lance has a strict skin care routine, and he wouldn’t let menial things like living in a ten thousand years old alien castle ruin it for him.

He’s found things that suggest alteans too care about their beauty, and skillfully used his resources to put up a fight against dry skin and dirt. The fact that he also found a literal giant bathroom full of cosmetic products inside the Castle helped, too.

Keith, actually, couldn’t care less about all that. He’ll wash himself if needed, and that’s it. But it’s nice to bathe with Lance, and to feel gentle fingers applying masks on his cheeks, touching the slope of his nose, slow and wondering, even if Lance sometimes likes to call him “greasy boy” and makes him wash his hands in weird occasions.

Lance also doesn’t talk about his problems, if he specifically doesn’t have to address them, but Keith is more observant than you’d give him credit for.

The baths are already enough of a telltale - because for all his boasting, Lance seems to be unable to look at him, keeping his mouth stretched in a big grin and his eyes downcast, his stance weirdly rigid and the pitch of his tone a little off. Only when they’re fully submerged he seems to gain back his ability to snark him to death and Keith is glad, but piqued.

He brings it up on one of the night where Lance is loose, and happy, talking a mile a minute in that chatty, endearing way of his, making every dumb topic seem vastly more interesting and exciting than it should really be. In one of their bored strolls through the Castle, they found a room with glass walls, overlooking the immensity of the universe around them, and now they come here late at night (they think it’s night, anyway) to watch the stars. It’s cheesy, but whatever.

Lance’s cheerily recounting about that time he swam with a dolphin, and his eyes are so bright Keith can only stare.

But then Lance smiles, soft at the corners, and takes a breathing pause, and Keith takes a lungful of air too.

“Are you ashamed of your body?” he blurts it out, worded like that, because there’s no way to change the question to make it more delicate, because bluntness always works best for him.

Lance pauses. When Keith peeks at him, he doesn’t seem shocked, or about to scream and flee, just a little pensive and a point amused.

“Yeah,” he says it simply, pretending it’s not the hardest thing he’s ever admitted out loud. He’s on a roll, here, so he adds “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I kind of- don’t really like myself.” It’s the kind of thing that sounds big and ugly and honestly ridiculous - the one you’d write in a secret diary stashed under your pillow as a self indulgence, more than a late night confession to the guy you fell in love with and were just talking about dolphins to; but it’s out there, now, and it feels like the right kind of thing to say, light and quiet with the universe blinking brightly and swirling all around them.

Keith doesn’t freak out or coo nor tries to get him to take it back, he just purses his lips and huffs “That’s bullshit.”

Lance is allowed a moment to panic, just one, before Keith adds “I think you’re beautiful.”

Now Lance really panics. Keith is not even fazed, he looks incredibly somber for one that just smashed a lot of walls in a single swift move, pulling some wacky Wreck it Ralph shit.

“I- Ah,” he stutters, blushing wildly like in one of those shojo manga his sister always lent him, and Keith would look great surrounded by roses and glitters, but that’s missing the point entirely.

Keith is not big on touching people. It makes him feel weird, generally, but Lance is really touchy, and it rubbed off on him a little. They cuddle regularly, for crying out loud. But most importantly, there isn’t anything he would love more than to touch Lance now, because he’s adorably embarrassed and terribly fragile, and just confessed one that was probably his most guarded, hidden feeling, and he was just before telling him about how maybe dolphins should really rule the Earth, so he just- twists his head and kisses him.

Lance freezes, and maybe Keith misread the mood? He seems to do that a lot, so he’s quick to back off, just slightly.

But Lance takes a shaky breath, nods with his eyes closed and brings him back by the lapel of his jacket, and this time the kiss tastes a little salty.

The baths of the Castle are like the Harry Potter Prefect’s bathroom, just immensely bigger and marginally more full of alien shit (that’s what Lance said).

The amount of body soaps and creams is astounding, and confusing, but Lance seems to be basking in it like a queen fondly acknowledging the vastness of her kingdom.

When they’re inside the big tub, facing each other with very little distance between them, Lance makes water bubbles by blowing air out of his nose, then splashes his chin on the surface and says “I think my freckles make me look stupid” he glances up at him, smiles a bit, then “My nose is also a little too pointy.”

Keith furrows his eyebrow, pretending to get closer just to inspect Lance’s face. “It’s not the freckles,” he murmurs, grins, but before Lance has even the time to get offended he places a soft kiss exactly where a freckle rests on his right cheek, and Lance makes a noise like a dying whale, which- Keith laughs a little, kisses another point, then another one, butterfly kisses on every freckle he can see, and they’re a lot.

The noise dims down a little more after every kiss, and it’s just when Keith smacks a last one on the tip of Lance’s nose that it gets silent again.

Lance is gaping, and his face is super red, definitely not because of the rapidly cooling water.

“They’re cute,” Keith whistles, and because he’s a shit like that, he rectifies “You’re cute.”

Lance’s eyebrows are doing weird things, but he must have a really fast recovery time, because it’s not long till his grin is back full force.

That doesn’t mean he’s not still blushing and looking incredibly bashful when he tuts “You know, I’ve always thought a little ill of my abs, too…”

Keith just snorts and splashes him.

(Later, he makes sure to kiss every place with soft lips and an even softer heart, praises easily cascading down his mouth, throat tight with tenderness as he chants Lance’s name and tells him how beautiful and brave he is, how every nook of his mind and body is adored and treasured, and Lance may even cry a little, but I never told you that)

#i got a little carried away and bent the prompt a little but i hope you'll forgive me? #this is so cheesy #what can i say??? #these boys bring out the cheese in me #also oh my god that's so cute anon i love it #protect lance forever #i sprinkle langst and pop culture wherever i go save me #i say this too little i think but thank you???????????? #this was the cutest hc im so blessed you sent it to me #i need to come up with a new tag for the ficlets #bibabbles #writing tag #you can pry freckled lance out of my cold dead hands btw

[ao3feed-lokiangst]

Three's a Splash

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2uDIMQ6

by Anonymous

Imprisoned in a tropical paradise, Hermione, Loki, and Natasha decide to take advantage of their luxurious pool. As it turns out a two person raft is not meant for three, forcing them to embrace the situation. In the end, none of them seem to mind.

Words: 4952, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Multi

Characters: Hermione Granger, Loki (Marvel), Natasha Romanov (Marvel)

Relationships: Hermione Granger/Loki/Natasha Romanov

Additional Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Fluff, Smut, Pool Sex, Swimming, Snark, Alternate Universe, Crossover Pairings, Crossover, Underwater Blow Jobs, Threesome - F/F/M

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2uDIMQ6

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #angst

[ao3feed-mcufemslash]

Three's a Splash

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2uDIMQ6

by Anonymous

Imprisoned in a tropical paradise, Hermione, Loki, and Natasha decide to take advantage of their luxurious pool. As it turns out a two person raft is not meant for three, forcing them to embrace the situation. In the end, none of them seem to mind.

Words: 4952, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Multi

Characters: Hermione Granger, Loki (Marvel), Natasha Romanov (Marvel)

Relationships: Hermione Granger/Loki/Natasha Romanov

Additional Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Fluff, Smut, Pool Sex, Swimming, Snark, Alternate Universe, Crossover Pairings, Crossover, Underwater Blow Jobs, Threesome - F/F/M

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2uDIMQ6

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #mcu