and only two weeks left of break

Seek (Jungkook/Reader)

Hogwarts!AU Mini Series | One · Two

Originally posted by jungkook-gifs

Genre: Smut - Hogwarts!AU

Words: 10.8K+

Author: Admin Kaycie

Summary: This was, without a doubt, the craziest thing you had ever done. Roughly inspired by the Goblet of Fire.

Tags: Grinding, oral sex, fingering, etc. 

Note: To clarify any confusion, I am reposting my old fics from BGS/theofficialrapmom here on HOBI since I previously removed them from Tumblr. Please do not attempt to send in plagiarism claims, as I assure you, I am the original content creator. For any questions, please feel free to contact me privately off of anon. Anonymous messages in regards to the reposting may be deleted if deemed rude/hateful.


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Broken Part One: http://imaginingbucky.tumblr.com/post/160710394889/broken-sign-on-the-dotted-line-and-everything

BROKEN PART TWO

Ten months later

The coffee shop that you normally went to every morning was closed for repairs. You had to go fifteen minutes out of your way to get your daily coffee fix.

It had been a regular morning. You woke up and made breakfast for the kids before sending them off to school. They only had a few weeks left before Christmas break. They were very excited about being out of school for the next three weeks.

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5

friday, april 21 2017 ||

i keep forgetting that it’s friday…

since i’ve been slacking on posts and such, i took some quick snaps of my current bullet journal and am sharing them! it’s in a dotted notebook i found at tjmaxx and i’m so in love with it. 

i’ve had a full day of classes pretty much, just two hours of break between them over all. right after my last class gets out at 4 today, i’ve got to rush over to work for a six hour shift. i’m already exhausted and took a 10-minute “nap” before starting an audio lecture and taking these pictures. it was nice to just lay my head down and close my eyes for a few minutes. also it’s absolutely pouring today, and i think that’s the only thing keeping me in a somewhat cheerful mood, despite my exhaustion.

only one week left of classes and then i have finals week. I CAN MAKE IT. 

eeeeeehhhhhhhh here’s my instagram 

Surprises.

Heyy everybody, this is part 3 of my break story! Thank you all so much for reading my little series and sending me so many nice messages. Let me know what you think about this part.xx

She pushed him away with as much force as she could muster up and actually made him stumble a few steps.
“I have a boyfriend!” she exclaimed.
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just thought because-”
“No!” she interrupted him.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever do that again!” she yelled at the top of her lungs.
She opened her car door, went in and slammed it shut with force. Within seconds she left the parking lot and Tim standing there.
Tears welled up in her eyes, making her vision blurry and she knew she should stop her car and calm down because this wasn’t safe. But she wanted to get home and shower and wash his touch off.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
She never meant to gave him the feeling wit was okay to kiss her.
The only person who was allowed to kiss her was Harry.
For goodness sake, she kissed him only a few hours before.
But the feeling of lips against hers that still lingered weren’t from Harry’s kiss.
Another man kissed her.
And even though she pushed him away and didn’t respond to his kiss she still felt guilty.

When she finally made it home she was properly crying with fat tears and loud sobs. She ripped her clothes of her body and took a hot shower. She stood underneath the hot water for at least half an hours, washing of the feel of his hands and lips on her.
She checked her phone when she went to bed and more tears fell from her eyes when she saw her lockscreen. Harry and her. Smiling so much that they weren’t able to kiss each other properly.
She cried herself to sleep that night, if she slept at all.


The next morning she woke up with sore eyes and slightly swollen cheeks. She hoped that everything was just a horrible dream but she knew it wasn’t. It was reality.
She just finished breakfast when her phone vibrated on the kitchen table with a text.

I’m in the hotel now. Everything’s fine. I miss you though. H

Her eyes closed briefly and she felt her whole body beginning to tremble.
She tipped back immediately, her fingers shaking so much she missed the right letters.

Can we talk?

She had to tell him. She couldn’t keep this from him.

Now? What’s wrong? Are you okay?

Now.

Her phone rung within seconds and even though she knew it would she still jumped at the shrill sound. She took a deep breath and hit the green button, lifting the phone to her cheek.
“Baby? What’s wrong?”
His voice sounded distressed and worried.
“I-”
A sob interrupted her and she had to brace herself on the kitchen table so she wouldn’t fall down.
“Darling, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”
“H-He kissed m-me.”
Harry was silent, she heard nothing on the other end of the line.
“W-We left the restaurant and the d-dinner was fun a-and we really got along well. He walked me to my car and when he went t-to say goodbye he leaned in b-but instead of kissing me on the cheek h-he… kissed me on the lips.”
It took her forever to get the words out, sobs and hiccups interrupted her every second.
“Did you kiss him back?” Harry asked lowly and she knew that tone.
She heard it so many times before when some bloke tried to hit on her.
“N-No! I pushed him away immediately. He almost fell to the g-ground because I pushed him so hard and then I screamed at him that I have a b-boyfriend and that he shouldn’t do that ever again and left him standing there.”
“That’s my girl.” Harry chuckled after a moment of silence and Y/N couldn’t believe her ears.
“W-What?”
“Baby, there’s nothing for you to cry about. You did everything right and I’m very proud of you even though he deserved to fall flat on his ass. I swear if I’d be home right now I’d cut his tongue off so he wouldn’t be able to-”
“You’re not mad?” she interrupted him.
“Not at you. You didn’t do anything wrong. That bloke is lucky though that I’m not home or else I’d rip his legs out. And arms. And everything else.”
Y/N sighed relieved and a small smile took over her lips.
“Thank you. I was so worried you’d be mad at me and break up and-”
“Stop. Seriously, you have to stop with all your doubts. I love you more than anything and I’m not going to leave you. Yeah, I’m not a fan of this break but I think it really is good for us. Everything’s alright, okay? We’ll figure it out when I’m back.”
“Okay.” she whispered.
“Can you do me a favor?” Harry asked then.
“Yeah?”
“Stay away from that Tom asshole.”
“Tim.”
“I don’t care.”
She laughed softly and promised him she wouldn’t go near him.
“I have to go now, love. Think you’re okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t cry anymore, yeah? It breaks my heart.”
“I’ll try.” she laughed softly.
“I love you.”
“I love you too. See you soon.”
“Very soon.”
When she placed her phone down on the kitchen table she literally felt all the weight lifted off her shoulders. She was still shaking slightly but she knew it was okay now.
She also knew that Harry was probably planning how he could get back at Tim but she didn’t worry about that, Harry couldn’t hurt a fly. She knew he was probably killing that guy in his thoughts right now but that was okay, she was killing him in her imagination as well.
She honestly didn’t think Harry would react that calm. She expected him to say ‘I knew why I wasn’t happy when you told me about him’ or maybe ‘It was so goddamn obvious he would try something’. She even kind of expected him to be so upset and angry he wouldn’t have let her explain but instead hand up immediately.
But he didn’t. And again she noticed that something had changed since they started the break.
If that would have happened before the escalation two weeks ago Harry would have started screaming at her and in the end he would have left the house.
But his reaction showed that he wanted something to change as well. He was hurting too and even though it sounded strange, Y/N was glad. During all those fights and screaming sessions she was scared she was the only one who was breaking inside.
Even though she wasn’t quite sure what would happen when Harry came home she knew they couldn’t be without each other. That break showed them what they could loose. It showed that what they had was unique and special.
And it also showed that the love they had for each other was stronger than anything else. Y/N knew from the beginning that Harry was the love of her life. Harry knew it too, she was the one for him from the first date.
The only thing they were both scared of now was their future. Would it get to that point again where they had to take a break?



The next few days felt strange. The fact that she saw him and talked to him over the phone made her think they would at least text throughout the day but there was nothing. Still radio silence.
And even though it bothered her she didn’t want to text him first. She knew he was busy and had other things to worry about but she at least thought he would give her a little update on how everything was going.
She worried though. She was scared he forgot about her. She was scared he actually enjoyed the break because now that he was with a lot of other people he didn’t have to think about her and maybe he’d realize that he was secretly missing his freedom?


When she saw him on SNL for his first ever live performance of his single she was a crying mess. One, because she missed him so much and still didn’t hear from him and two, because she was so incredibly proud and three, because she stayed awake until the early hours of the morning. He smashed it. He was absolutely perfect.
And she felt so goddamn bad because she wasn’t there waiting from him when he came off the stage. She wasn’t there to kiss all over his face because she was even prouder than his mum. She wasn’t there.
He told her she should stop doubting his love for her but for some reason she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help but worry when he wasn’t here and she didn’t hear from him and even though she knew that was the purpose of a break, her mind couldn’t do anything else but come up with her worst nightmares and her heart couldn’t help but break.

When she finally wanted to go to sleep she didn’t knew if she should text him. He knew for sure that she would watch it but would he want her to text him? Her fingers hovered over the keyboard of her phone for several minutes until she decided that yes, she had to text him.

You did so good. I’m so incredibly proud of you.xx

She turned her phone off immediately when she hit send so she wouldn’t wait another few hours for his reply and could get some sleep. Even though she probably couldn’t keep her eyes closed.


She got no reply the next day.
And the day after that? Nothing.
And on the third day she was a mess.
Tears sprung to her eyes when she checked her phone for the thousandth time that day and she still didn’t hear anything from him. She knew he was unbelievably, incredibly busy but…
Was she not important anymore?
Did he not want to talk to her?
Or did he just not see it?
Or maybe the little incident with Tim hurt him more than he would like to admit.
Even though Harry told her she should stop worrying she couldn’t. He made it pretty hard to.
If she wouldn’t have seen his face all over social media and on tv she wouldn’t have known he was still alive during the next week. She felt like she went back in time to the first week of being without him, whenever she had a free moment her mind would immediately wander to him.
Then it was all a blur. It was like she was numb. She didn’t know if she should feel angry or sad or maybe happy because he would be home in a few days. The truth was that she didn’t feel anything.
He told her she could call or text him anytime she felt the need to and to be honest she did need him more than anything but she didn’t try to reach out for him. He didn’t respond to her congratulating him, why should he respond to anything else?


When the fourth week of their break was over he didn’t come home. She knew he’d return that day but he wasn’t there yet. And he probably wouldn’t come. He didn’t tell her when he would land, didn’t ask her to pick him up, didn’t tell her he would come home straight away.
And he didn’t.
She spend another night in the bed they once shared alone. Without him. Without any sort of communication between them.

A loud noise woke her up the next morning, followed by a muttered ‘shit’. Her heart started to pound, her eyes frankly searching for something to defend herself. She got out of bed on shaky legs, grabbing Harry’s golf club which stood beside the drawer. She made her way out of the bedroom and down the stairs on tip toes, making sure she didn’t make any sound.
When she saw the all too familiar suede boots at the front door she knew she didn’t have to defend herself. At least not her body but more her heart. She placed the golf club down on the floor and made her way to the kitchen where she was greeted by a sight which used to make her tummy fill with butterflies but now she was feeling nervous in the most negative way.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked and was surprised herself at how cold her voice sounded.
Harry whirled around and stopped draping berries on the waffles he made, his eyes were wide with shock and his mouth agape.
“I-I wanted to surprise you. I made breakfast and-”
She interrupted him with a humorless laugh, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Surprise me? I think you’ve surprised me enough lately.”
“What?” he asked with furrowed brows.
“I was surprised when I didn’t hear from you at all during the last two weeks, nothing to keep me updated. I was surprised when I texted you and didn’t get a reply. I was surprised when you didn’t let me know when you came home. I was surprised when you didn’t come home as soon as you left the airport.”
Harry was standing there completely dumbfounded, suddenly feeling insecure about what he prepared for her. He had no idea what was going on, thought she would jump into his arms as soon as she saw him. He thought she would love the flowers he brought her and the breakfast he prepared. That wasn’t the case, apparently.
“You… I… What?” he asked again.
“I don’t know if I want to see you right now, Harry.”

Mr. Min - Chapter 03

Description:  Your CEO caught your attention the first day you started your new job and it seems the attraction is mutual.  Too bad he’s only interested in a relationship that benefits him.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

Genre: Smut and Angst

Word Count: 26,490 (whoopsy doodle)

Warning: Dom!Yoongi, abusive elements, breath play, punishment, a lot of demeaning names, high levels of assholery

Prologue - Ch 01 - Ch 02 - Ch 04 - Ch 05 - Ch 06

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Mute Part 12

Part 11

Genre: Mostly fluff
Words: 2,722
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Rape mentions (pls don’t read if this will trigger anything & also i’m here to listen if anyone needs to talk)
Summary: Bucky doesn’t know what to do when traumatizing events result in your witty remarks dying down to nothing.


“(Y/N), how have you been feeling lately?”

You took a deep breath, letting your body relax in the seat facing your therapist. You had been seeing her for about four months now, starting a couple of days after you put a pause on things with Bucky. Tony had set the meetings up for you, and he had said that this woman was the person he went to when he went off the rail from his own problems not too long ago. She was amazing at her job, he had said. And you couldn’t disagree.

You felt a genuine smile spread across your face as you nodded your head slightly in glee. “I feel great.” You informed her of how your nightmares that had occurred a couple of times per week now only invaded your sleep maybe every other week if you were stressed. You told her about how you were learning to lower your walls around people and about how you no longer needed to establish boundaries with your teammates. You told her about how you had been happier lately, learning to enjoy the little things in life that you had let go of before. You now felt excited when you smelt a surprise breakfast of pancakes being cooked while making your way to the kitchen in the morning. You laughed with your teammates at corny jokes and comedic movies. You participated in game nights and had fun while doing so. You started smiling, once again. And you weren’t the only one.

Bucky had watched you from a distance with loving eyes. In the beginning of your break, he had been miserable, and you could tell. You both were. But it had paid off. There were sleepless nights when you could barely breathe over your sobs and Bucky could barely think over the sounds you were making. There were times when you wanted to say fuck it and crawl into his waiting arms. But the two of you endured.

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anonymous asked:

hi!!~~~ i never had read any haikyuu fics. could you please rec some?

hoo buddy you came to the right place. here are some of my all time faves:

Like a River Through a Mountain by skinnedkneedmisfit Iwaizumi thought he was destined to be the Very Best like no one ever was, until family circumstances cuts his quest for pokémon glory short. Years later, he earns his seat as the ground/rock-type Gym Leader in his hometown, but his life doesn’t really begin until he gets an obnoxious neighbor across the lake. or, maybe not the slow burn Pokémon au that we want, but the slow burn Pokémon au that we get. (oneshot, rated T, 32k)

Rough Draft by shions_heart Kozume Kenma’s a novelist tasked to write a romance into his action-adventure stories in order to attract more readers, something he has no idea how to do. At a loss, he recruits his attractive next-door neighbor Kuroo Tetsurou to assist him in experiencing what a relationship feels like. He should have anticipated the way things grow more complicated. (oneshot, rated T, 16k)

Read between the lines by wayward_stranger “You know, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispered, turning around in his seat. Hajime narrowed his eyes at him. Oikawa had a sneaky look on his face, the same look he usually wore whenever he was about to do one of his powerful serves. “I think you’d make a pretty good Romeo,” he said. The Cultural Festival is coming up soon and Hajime’s class decides to perform Romeo and Juliet. However, Hajime’s plans of staying in the background and painting sets are destroyed once he’s chosen to play Romeo. And to make matters worse, that idiot Oikawa who pulled him into that mess has been cast as Juliet. (multichapter, rated T, 62k)

get rucked by dicaeopolis Oikawa’s feeling the tiniest bit lonely during her first week of college. Her next-door neighbors know just the way to make her feel better. (oneshot, rated T, 27k)

Retrograde by Reminscees Hajime’s father told her to follow three simple rules: no drugs, no drinking, and no cigarettes. Hajime ends up breaking all three of them in the first two weeks she’s at boarding school, and somehow manages to get a girlfriend on the way. (multichapter, rated E, 33k)

A Clipped Wing Doesn’t Mean You Can’t Fly by thornsword Hinata Shōyō has had only half of his left leg since he was ten, but after seeing the small giant on tv he decides that he’s going to play volleyball no matter what. Armed with a prosthetic leg and a whole lotta firepower, he keeps everything a secret so he can continue playing. Of course, secrets never stay that way for long… (multichapter, rated T, 11k)

When You Wish Upon a Star by emerald1963 Hajime has no idea how this situation is even possible, but he’s one hundred percent certain that it’s all Oikawa’s fault. Oikawa blames the aliens. The Iwaoi body swap fic that this fandom needs, if not the one it deserves. (multichapter, rated T, 32k)

you’re looking like you fell in love tonight by anyadisee “So, let me see if I understood this correctly,” Hajime says, slow and careful like he’s still waiting for some kind of punchline. “You want me to help Oikawa Tooru, a guy I barely know, because your boyfriend owes him a favor?” “And you owe me a favor,” Hanamaki adds helpfully. “That doesn’t even make any sense!”“Sure it does.” Hanamaki’s smile widens. “Issei and I are practically the same person by now, anyway, so whatever favor you owe me, you also owe him. And by repaying me, you are repaying him, and in turn he is repaying Oikawa. Think of it as, like, the transitive property of equality. A equals B equals C. A equals C.” “I know what the transitive property of equality is,” Hajime snaps. [in which iwaizumi pretends to be oikawa’s boyfriend.] (oneshot, rated T, 35k)

Rainbow Hanamaki slammed his hands onto the table. Fortunately, only the hotel receptionist gave any notice. “I get that we’re going to be performing at the world-famous Chicago Pride Festival tomorrow, but there’s a HUGE difference between supporting gay and actually being gay, okay? Especially when it’s your BEST FRIEND that you have a crush on, because that’s goddamn terrifying. ”Iwaizumi’s mouth fell open, because in a few sentences, Hanamaki had just summed up everything that had been building up inside Iwaizumi ever since he was little. (oneshot, rated T, 6k)

quiet and sad and happy by norio Sometimes, Bokuto would wait for Akaashi at early morning practice. Bokuto could practice by himself, of course, or jog a lap around the school. But he thought it’d suck for Akaashi to have to practice alone. If he waited long enough, the heavy door would always creak open and a ray of light would always shine into the room. (oneshot, rated G, drabble) (warning major character death)

this really isn’t the best representation of all the haikyuu fanbase has to offer i’m sorry i’m such iwaoi trash and have no self control but yeah ~em

2

04.05.2017 // Two papers done, only one left to do (draft is almost finished tho! 65/75 pages!) Then I do have to continue classes into June (in order to graduate early 😤) So after I’m finished with this semester, I get a break for two weeks (and I get my wisdom teeth pulled…ugh), then a super painful month of classes, then back to Germany! 👍🏻

Consider:

Lance wears glasses. Or rather, he wears contacts. Has since he was in third grade, but the kids made fun of him a lot for them to the point where he begged his mother to let him get contacts. After that, he only wore glasses late at night, when studying, so Hunk is the only one who know he has them.

When they left Earth, he had just put in a new pair of those ones that can last like a month. He had the case in his pocket, and, with Hunks help, managed to find a cleaning solution that was safe for them and him.

But eventually he can’t wear them anymore and he CAN’T SEE.

At first he doesn’t say anything, not even to Hunk, but then his shots start going wide and he starts getting hurt more and finally he breaks down and admits that he’s been basically half blind for like two weeks.

Cue an adventure to find an eye doctor in space, with Pidge lecturing him about proper eye care the whole time (as if he doesn’t know)

They finally find a guy and get Lance a new pair, these thin rectangular frames with blue edging and he comes out a little sheepishly, expecting to get teased, but the only response he gets is Hunk going, “Dude they have earth pizza here let’s go!”

Everyone goes to get pizza and Keith just kinda nudges him at one point and goes, “I like the glasses. They suit you”

He flaunts the damn things after that.

elysiuminthedark  asked:

Only been in Bludhaven two weeks before I found Nightwing taking a break by my window. He looked a little rundown, so I offered him a snack and something to drink. He was grateful and left. It's been two months now and since then, I've had enough pitstops from Nightwing, Red Robin, and the rest of the Batfam, that I keep food stocked. Nightwing loves Chex Mix btw. #onlyinbludhaven

On the Brink - Chapter 3

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Pairings: Lucifer x You

Warnings: Torture. Swearing.

Author’s Note: I erased half of this and re-wrote it, so I’m hoping you all like it! I think I got everybody with the tags, but if I didn’t please let me know. I definitely didn’t exclude anyone on purpose. Let me know what you think of this chapter - thanks!

Tags: @krysta1kitkat @caffeine-nights @dekahg @capsofwinchesters @casteelle @tolieboy @xmaspumpkin @amyapathetic @littlepandadreamer @only-a-nerd @uruburock13 @teamfreewilllovesyou

Originally posted by lucifersagents

You and Lucifer were left alone for a week after that horrible torture session. It seemed that the King knew you would need a break to recover for more torture. The blisters on your feet weren’t anywhere close to being fully healed but at least you could now walk again. You weren’t sure how Lucifer’s wings were because he hadn’t offered to let you see them again, and you hadn’t asked. He still hadn’t told you where he had been for those two weeks or why he had treated you so poorly when he returned, and you weren’t sure you wanted to know. There was something different about him now and you weren’t sure if it was because of where he had been or if it was because of the torture.

It was on the fifth day of this blissful break that Todrick showed up. Tod was a lesser demon that had been tasked with taking care of your laundry once a month. Apparently Crowley had a distaste for soiled clothing. Tod was a slight little thing, with big round glasses and a prominent Adam’s apple. He always looked nervous and you supposed he should be. He was, after all, how your lotions and medicines were being smuggled in.

“Hey Tod,” You said, standing up from the floor where you had been laying in silence. To your surprise, Lucifer sat up on the bed with a curious look on his face. “Hang on, I’ll get the clothes for you.”Tod nodded, peering cautiously through the bars at Lucifer.

“So that’s him, huh?” He asked you, as though Lucifer couldn’t hear him perfectly.

“Yep, that’s the Devil.” You grunted as you stooped to grab the bloody, torn clothes off the ground.

“Huh, I thought he’d be more…just more, you know?”

Lucifer scowled. “I’m more than you’ll ever be, you pathetic little flea.”

“Take it easy,” You said to the archangel as you passed the clothes through the bars. “Tod is one of the good ones.”

Lucifer snorted, but you ignored him.

“Hey, we need some more of the burn salve.” You said to Tod in a low voice. “We’re running really low.”

“Already?” He asked, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

“Yeah. There’s two of us now, see?”

“Yeah, yeah, I see. Alright, I’ll get you some.”

“Thank you,” You said, with real warmth in your voice. “You are amazing. I mean it.”

Tod stuttered and squeaked, “Y…you’re welcome!”

He turned and scurried away with the clothes in his hands. You watched him leave before turning around, intending to lay back down where you had been before. You stopped when you saw Lucifer smirking at you with a smug expression.

“What?” You asked warily.

“I get it now.” He said. “I see what you do.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You are just such a Winchester.”

“You keep saying that,” You growled, annoyance starting to rise within you. “What exactly do you mean?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “What I mean is that you charmed that poor little freak into doing whatever you want and you did it on purpose. He’s so in love with you that he’d probably open the door and let you free if you asked him.”

“First of all,” You began. “No he won’t because I’ve already asked him. Second of all, he is not in love with me. And third of all, if he is, I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I’ve seen how you operate now, little Winchester.” Lucifer said, that smirk still on his stupid face. “You just charm everyone around you in order to get your way. I’m onto you.”

“Lucifer, I have no idea what you are talking about,” You grumbled. “I don’t try to charm everyone I meet.”

“So you’re trying to tell me that it just happens naturally?”

“That what happens naturally? That Tod just naturally liked me? I am pretty likable.” You retorted, your eyes flashing. “Besides, my natural charm and charisma clearly doesn’t affect everyone. You certainly don’t seem to care one way or the other.”

Lucifer’s smile seemed to flicker for a moment before the smirk was firmly back in place.

“And don’t you forget it.” He said.

“Oh trust me, Feathers,” You said, settling back down onto the floor. “If I try to charm you, you’ll know it. No one can resist the famous Winchester charm.”

You were expecting a witty remark, but all Lucifer said was, “Apparently.”

He was looking at you in an odd sort of way and you didn’t like it. You rolled over so you wouldn’t have to see him anymore and after a few moments you heard him lay back down. He was being so weird lately. This was the most he had spoken to you in days. And it was about charming people? Making them like you? So. Weird.


Crowley came for you on the eighth day and brought Lucifer again too. Your heart sank when you realized it was going to be more of the same thing. But you were shocked when you entered the torture room and instead saw Tod strapped down to the table. He wore a terrified expression and his eyes were rolling hideously in his head.

“This is Todrick,” Crowley began richly. “He’s the one who’s been washing your filthy, stinking clothes for the past eleven months, which I’m sure you already knew. He’s also the one who’s been providing you with medicines to help you heal faster.”

Adrenaline rushed through you at his words, but you couldn’t do anything besides stand there next to the archangel.

Crowley continued. “I’ve known this for a while now, but I let it go on. I was hoping I might make more progress than I have and I was being quite generous. But I’m done with that now. I need to know the location of the Hand of God device and you’ve got it up there in your little noggin, Y/N. So there will be no more medicines. No more clean clothes. But I’ll give you the choice of how Todrick dies. If you give me the location of the device, I’ll make it quick and clean. If you don’t, I will torture him for a very long time first and make you watch every second.”

You clenched your jaw against the scream that was threatening to come out. “No. I won’t tell you.”

“So be it.” Crowley scowled.It was a very long time before Tod succumbed to death. His shrieks were horrible and grating on your ears, but his hideous moans after Crowley cut out his tongue were even worse. He begged you to give up the location, pleaded with you, but you didn’t. So eventually he just took to screaming your name. You wanted to turn away and cover your ears, but you owed it to Tod to watch this. You silently vowed revenge on Crowley for this transgression as well as all the others, something you had done every day since your capture.

Once the demon was dead, Crowley had his mangled, bloody corpse tossed aside. He regarded you thoughtfully for a moment, then turned to his henchmen.

“Strap the archangel down.” He commanded.

“What? No!” You gasped. You turned towards Lucifer but there were three demons forcing his struggling form towards the table. You were grabbed roughly from behind to prevent you from running after him. “No!”

They strapped him onto the table and you stared at him. He looked back at you and you could see fear in his eyes. Your breath started coming in gasps.

“New deal.” Crowley said. “Either you tell me where the device is, or I’ll hack off his wings.”

The King stood next to Lucifer and picked up a Chinese cleaver from the table next to him. He grabbed at the air and yanked something hard. Lucifer cried out in pain and you knew Crowley had his wing in his hand.

“I…can’t.” You stuttered, your mind going numb.

Crowley sighed, raised the cleaver high, and brought it down through the air. It caught on something about halfway through his swing and Lucifer screamed. The sound was ten times worse than the sounds Tod had made and suddenly you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’ll tell you!” You screamed as Crowley brought the cleaver up again. “Stop! I’ll tell you where it is!”

You weren’t sure you could be heard over the screams Lucifer was still emitting, but Crowley heard you. He hesitated, then put the cleaver back on the table. You saw that it was covered in blood and you felt sick. Lucifer was shaking and looked like he was about to pass out.

“Interesting.” Crowley said mildly.

“What’s interesting?” You snarled at him.

“Well, you just let Todrick be tortured for hours without saying a word, but one little cut on Lucifer and you’re ready to ‘fess up. It’s interesting, that’s all.”

You said nothing, merely glared at him. Lucifer was gasping still, but he seemed to have to his senses somewhat. He was looking at you, his eyes hooded.

“D…don’t.” He said in a harsh whisper.

“Sorry.” You have him a small smile. You looked back at Crowley. “Well? How do you want to do this? Do I just blab it out?”

“Sure.” He said. “But I will warn you that if I get there and the device isn’t there, I will return and finish the job on him.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know if it’s there or not?” You responded hotly. “I only have the information that I was given! I don’t know if it’s actually there because you kidnapped me before I could find out!”

“If it’s not there, I will hack his wings off piece by piece.” Crowley reiterated, growling.

You sneered, about to respond when the door to the chambers was suddenly wrenched open and three figures sprinted through. The two demons nearest the door were vaporized almost instantly. It happened so fast that you couldn’t see clearly. The demon holding your arm snarled and let go, and you stumbled. You turned to see a small figure also advancing through the door and recognized her as Crowley’s mother, Rowena. Not good.

Taking advantage of your new found freedom, you ran over to Lucifer and started undoing his restraints. Maybe in the chaos you could free him and find a way to escape.

“Winchester…” Lucifer breathed.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me.” You said distractedly, tugging at the restraints. “Come on, we gotta get out of here.”

He gave you a half-smile and said weakly, “No, idiot. Winchesters.”

You realized he was pointing back towards the fray and you turned to see what was going on. It was then that you realized your brothers had arrived.

michael clifford + mgc / smut

>synopsis ~ michael was the boy who played at the pubs down the road, you were the girl who wouldn’t stop thinking about him
>requested ~ nope
>word count ~ 4.2k
requests are sent in here // masterlist

Michael Clifford was an esoteric boy.

He sat on the pavement beside one of the oldest book shops in town, with a cup of coffee in his hand and a book nearly as tattered as the shop it came from balanced in his hand. He had hair too blond to be natural, and eyes too beautiful to be ignored. When it rained, he headed inside the shop, and leaned up against one of the bookshelves. He was never away from the music section, unless he ambled over towards the section of beliefs and was reading a book with something to do with astrology – or was it worldwide beliefs? You were never sure, it was either one of them, though. He never looked up from between the pages, unless it was to let one of the employees know that no, he doesn’t plan on standing there the whole day, although he really does.

How did you know? You went to that book shop every day. At first, you weren’t very sure about that strange boy who never left the front of the shop. But, word got around quick, and despite you being so new to town, it was only a matter of two weeks for you to hear about Michael Clifford. It wasn’t much of hate-filled rumours, but more of him being one of the few people in your dull town that actually did something – music. Every regular at the downtown pub – which was, quite frankly, pretty much everyone – knew him and his famous open mics. Unlike the other performers, he never spoke to the crowd, or tried to crack jokes to break the ice. His music and strums across the guitar were enough for everyone, and he ended every night with a bow, and blowing a two-fingered kiss to the crowd which had all the girls swooning. You went to his show one day, and you weren’t sure if anyone noticed the kiss was rather sarcastic – his approach to making fun of every pop heartthrob there was. You went back there every Friday after that, but found your relief for curiousity when you found him at the bookshop near your house.

It wasn’t that much of a secret you had a crush on this Michael Clifford guy, and although you tell yourself time and time again you’re just one of the many girls, there’s a part of your heart that swelled at the very thought of just being with him – holding his hand, touching him, being the true reason he blows kisses to the crowd. Not only the superficial romance, either – you wanted to know when he wrote all the songs he performed. You wanted to know what his first guitar was, and how he started playing, and how long for. You wanted to ask him why he always came to the book shop, and what did he know about astrology and worldwide beliefs. You wanted to hear how his voice might sound as he spoke to you, how it might sound when saying your name. You would twist around in bed just thinking of him, a schoolgirl crush by a girl who just finished school.

When you next saw him at the book shop, he still remained reading beside the beliefs section, his hands around a book titled Planets in Transit. Swallowing, you loitered beside him, pretending to scan some of the books laid out before you. Your fingers trailed across the covers, until they reached where his back leaned against the shelf, obscuring the rest of the titles. You raised your eyebrows to him, not sure what you were hoping for him to do. Look at you? Speak to you? Have an epiphany and suddenly think you’re gorgeous? He didn’t even glance up from his book when he mumbled ‘sorry’ and moved from your way. Disappointed, you sighed, turning your head to the books he uncovered. Picking up a book, you read through it. Something about astrology, you already knew. Looking up at him, you sigh, mustering the courage to talk to him.

“Hey,” you said bluntly, this time making him look up from his book with an incredulous expression.

He glanced from you to his book. “Hey?”

The embarrassment hit you like a truck. He must’ve seen the flush on your face as he smiled to himself, shaking his head and closing his book. You saw that as a chance to continue your conversation, despite wanting to dig yourself a whole and bury yourself. “Yeah. Hey. How are you? Where do you plan on playing your next gig?”

He frowned, turning around and putting his book back. “Oh. So that’s what this is about.”

Quizzical, you stepped forwards. “What?”

There was a pause, and he tapped the book he just put on the shelf. “You’re only talking to me because I’m ‘that guy who performs at the pub’, not because you’re genuinely interested in me.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m so done with people doing that.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms. “You think I’d waste my time like that? Don’t flatter yourself, you’re not that famous.”

His eyes met yours. Your response obviously took him back, as he began to stand straighter, clearing his throat and standing back to scan the bookshelves. You immediately think what you said was a mistake, that you were supposed to be kind for your first impression, and your heart leapt into your throat. You didn’t face him, and started to walk out of the beliefs section. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Of course not, you’re not the type of girl to waste your time,” he told you, and you stopped, still not facing him. Your fingers loosened their fists, and you heard him approach you. “My presumption was obviously wrong, then.”

“Rather.” You pressed your lips into a line, this time, spinning on your heel to look at him. Bravely, you lifted your gaze to his, which held much amusement to your interaction with him. The annoyance burned out, and you sighed, crossing your arms and looking back at the bookshelf. “So, I take it you don’t enjoy talking about the only thing there is for you to take pride in?”

Laughing, he raised his eyebrows, clearly charmed by your moody character. “Who said music is the only thing I take pride in?”

“Well, I’m assuming. It seems like we’re both rather good at that, doesn’t it?”

He gave you a smile, which, you hated to admit, made your heart flutter. Attempting to hide your flushed face, you stalked off into the fiction section, picking out a random book and hiding yourself behind it. He followed you there, and touched your shoulder, leaving you burning a brighter red than you thought you would. Taking the book from yourself, you stared up at him, toeing your shoes on the ground. You had no idea why you were suddenly so confident towards him, but it all came crashing back down into a sea of regret and embarrassment.

“You’re quite interesting, if I may say so myself,” he remarked. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone so pretty with such a sharp tongue.”

You clasped your hands to stop them from trembling. “Well, that’s one I’ve never got before.”

“You’ve never been called pretty?”

“Oh, I’ve been called pretty lots,” you lied, “and I’ve been told I have a sharp tongue. Just never in the same sentence.”

“Why might that be?”

“Most boys don’t really enjoy admitting that a girl who has a quicker wit than them is pretty.”

Impressed, he leaned his shoulder against the bookshelf, and watched you rummage around the books and scan the blurbs fake intently. He didn’t think of you as much, at first, but it was your mind that stirred him – the quick responses, the comebacks, the flare in your eyes when he questioned you. Promptly after he saw just how smart you were, he saw the beauty lying within you as well, making him forget a moment when he saw you as ordinary. He gave you a measured look, then stepped closer towards you. Swallowing, you kept your gaze on the books.

“So, pretty girl, what’s your name? Or would you rather me keep calling you ‘pretty girl’?” He bit his lip.

'Pretty girl’ does sound fitting, but my name’s Y/N.” You tapped your foot beside the bookshelf. “What’s your name?” You looked at him, tease playing in your eyes.

He chuckled. “Don’t act like you don’t know my name. You’re the one who approached me.”

“Oh, okay, Mitchell, was it?” she said, and he rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Michael, what else is there to know about you, other than the fact that you’re a self centred musician who plays at open mics at the pub down the road?”

Shaking his head, he licked his lips, which you couldn’t help but to glance down at. Jutting his chin towards the door, he told you, “come on a walk with me, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

“Where will we be going?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“I can’t go with you, then.” You turned back to the books, pretending to not care whether he leaves without you, or not.

“What a stubborn girl.” He lowered his lashes, then lifted them to catch a glimpse of you once again. “We’re going to the park beside the pub. I wanna play guitar for you.”

You waved your hand around the area. “Where’s your guitar?”

“Ah.” He began out of the door, holding it open for you to follow him. “That’s something I can’t tell you, yet.”


Turns out, he had his guitar kept in the back of the pub, seeing how often he went. You both remained in the field, you lying down amongst the grass, and him sitting cross legged beside you, tuning each of the strings while watching your chest rise and fall as you breathed. He couldn’t understand how he was so attracted to you in such a short time – just by seeing how you acted, the way you spoke, it was enough for him to be smitten. You reached up and played with your hair, accidentally pushing it over your eyes. He pushed it away, and you gave him a surprised raise of eyebrows.

“I should at least be able to see your face, shouldn’t I, pretty girl?”

“I was afraid I would take your breath away if you stared any longer.” You bit your lip as he watched you, strumming a chord distractedly.

“It’s a risk I’d be happy to take,” he told you, and you looked up at the clouds, until you saw from your sideview that he had taken out a cigarette box. Catching your stare while picking out a cigarette, he rose an eyebrow. “You smoke?” Setting the it between his teeth, he looked down, cupping a hand around it and lighting it. Smoke breathed out through his mouth.

“I could.” Leaning up, you took the cigarette from his mouth, and took a drag. He watched your lips as they blew out smoke, and took it back from you, inhaling and blowing it away from your face. You grinned. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

“You don’t know a lot about me.”

“So tell me.”

Sitting back on the grass, he balanced his guitar on his lap. “Well, you already know my name. I’m eighteen years old, and the one thing I want to do more than anything in this world is to become a musician. I, if not made obvious, have the dying need to matter in this world.” He played some barre chords across the neck, keeping the cigarette in his mouth. His words were mumbled around it. “I grew up in a house with me, my mum, and my dad, and we were a rather economically unlucky family. But we loved each other a lot. We still do. We own the pub, which is why I perform there so much.”

You smiled up at him, nodding for him to continue.

“I dye my hair. Too much, in fact. It was red last month, blue the month before, black the month before.”

“Isn’t black hard to dye out?”

“My point exactly.” He inhaled another drag. “I love – or as you would say it – 'believe’ in astrology. It helps me explain things, and it helps me make sense of things I usually wouldn’t. It lets me understand people and just, I don’t know, get a head start on them.”

“That’s cheating.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re getting to know someone without actually getting to know them.”

He laughed. “You could say that.” Reaching over, he pushed your hair behind your ear. “What about you, pretty girl? What is there to know about you?”

You tilted your head. “That wasn’t apart of the deal.”

“I just made it apart of the deal.”

Biting your lip, you sat up, eyes flittering towards his mouth. He caught you, and set his palm on the side of your face, nearing you closer. You could’ve kissed him, right then, but stopped yourself.

“That’s another story for another day,” you said gently, and pecked his bottom lip, barely feeling anything other than its chapped surface and his sharp intake of breath.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “If I take you somewhere else, somewhere quieter, will you follow me?”

“What would we be doing, in that 'somewhere else’?” You pulled away from him slowly, gauging his reaction.

“Everything you want us to.”

You took his hand, and he stood up picking up his guitar as you followed him out of the park and around the short walk to the back door of the pub. He said hello to a rosy woman wearing an apron, laugh lines around her mouth, and a head of greying blonde hair working at the counter of the pub. You assumed her to be his mother, and gave her a warm smile while he introduced you to a couple people, before setting his guitar in the back and taking you up a winding staircase to the upper floor. It was a storey of rooms, and he lead you to the first bedroom on the right, the door covered in band stickers. Opening it, he walked in, and you were surprised at how tidy it was – books tucked neatly into all the shelves, bed neatly made, a desk stacked with textbooks, it all seemed rather unlikely for his appearance.

“Is this the part where you kiss me?” you mumbled as he pushed you up against his shut door, your arms around his shoulders while his hands found your waist.

“How did you know?” He leaned over, and his mouth met yours in a hot kiss.

You sighed, the revelation of the day’s tension wearing off for each kiss you shared. He took your wrists and pinned them to the door above your head, leaving you helpless beneath him as he pressed his lips down your neck. Closing your eyes, you felt him hitch up your shirt, setting his cool hand on your waist before releasing your arms and lifting it up, waiting for you to pull it over your head. His green eyes were dark, and met yours in apprehension that made you blush just noticing. You took your top off, throwing it on the floor and tugging him close to you once again, but he stopped you, staring down your body.

“The body of an angel,” he marvelled, his fingers running from your collarbone to the curve of your breast. “Fucking hell, I want to touch you so badly.”

You smirked, pulling the string of your skirt and letting it fall to the floor. You remained standing in your white underwear, with Michael centimetres from you with his arm resting right beside your head. He stroked your thighs, letting his palm slide between them and edge around your clothed core. You inhaled, grasp moving to his arm and trying to move him closer to you. Not complying, he grinned, lowering his eyes and kissing you. His lips were always warm, and fitted along yours perfectly. Your hands messed his hair, and he spun you around, walking you onto his bed before letting you fall back onto it. He pulled his shirt over his head, his blond hair sweeping over his forehead as he did so.

“Speaking of the body of an angel…” you said softly, and he smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. You sat up, and he pushed your bra strap from your shoulder, kissing the space he revealed for himself. “Michael…”

“I love how you sound saying my name.” He played with the cup around your breast, then unclipped your bra, tugging it off your shoulders and inclining close to you, his lips ghosting over yours. “You sound so sweet.”

The cold air in his room hit your nipples before his mouth met them. His tongue lapped at your tight nub, flicking his gaze up to yours to check your reactions. You breathed out, stroking his hair and arching your back so your chest drew more towards him. Your heart raced so hard, you were afraid he could hear it, so relief washed over you when he pushed you gently back onto the bed, his fingers moving your underwear down and running over your clit. You could barely believe that the boy you saw walking across the stage at the pub every week finally knew who you were, calling you 'pretty girl’ just because he knew you secretly liked it.

Propping himself up beside you on his elbow, he ran his hand down your stomach, a shiver residing your skin. The pad of his middle finger circled your clit, while his hand parted your thighs wider, so your leg was draped over his hip. You sighed at his touch, dropping your head to the side and closing your eyes, inhaling the scent of his naked chest beside your face. You could faintly hear the sound of all the diners in the pub downstairs, and the clatter of cups, but you were already lost in Michael’s heavy breaths, and the soft whimpers leaving your mouth every moment he picked his pace up on your clit. Straying it, he moved to your core, running a finger up before pushing it in. He set a hand on your lower belly, feeling how it rose as you took in a breath.

“Shit…” you said under your breath, and he curled his fingers, your heart leaping in delight. “God, you’re good at this.”

“Yeah?” He leaned in close, catching your mouth in a kiss and slipping his finger between your folds. You melted back into the mattress, lips hanging off his as you moaned into his chest, digging your nails into his soft skin. He smiled into your hair. “You’re so responsive, baby.” Proving his point, he slammed his finger into you and curled around your G-Spot, making you quiver and bite your lip, nose nudging a birth mark below his collarbone.

You could feel his knuckles brush the inside of your thighs through each pump he left from his finger, slowly sliding another in and stretching you out the slightest bit. Your eyes fluttered open, and you caught him gazing at you, his lidded eyes staring at you while his lip was bit between his teeth. You struggled to keep your regard on him, and when he picked up his pace, you submitted to darkness once again, whining into his chest and grinding your hips up. Reaching down, you ran your fingers over his wrist, trying to feel how he moved when he touched you. Your stomach tightened, and you moaned, digging your nails into the bed. The sound of his fingers moving into you was enough to make you even wetter. He pulled out completely, and you watched him kneel up on the bed, taking your hand so you followed suit. You sat in front of him, lips flushed, naked, and hair messy over your tired eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, looking at you a while longer before unbuckling his jeans, just the sound perking you up a little more. He pulled them off his legs and kicked them on the floor, leaving him in his grey boxers with a semi bumped underneath it. He palmed himself, the sight of you making him harder. “Do you wanna suck my cock, Y/N? Hmm?” You nodded, but that didn’t suffice for him. Taking your head in his free hand, he put his thumb in your mouth, dragging it across your bottom lip. “I want you to say it. I want to hear you say it.”

Please let me suck your cock, Michael,” you said, eyes locked on him. He moved his thumb from your mouth and hooked it into his boxers, shifting them down so his member sprung up. You wrapped your hands around him immediately, gazing up at him in gratitude. He stared back at you with his lashes lowered, lip between his teeth as you turned back to his length. He was bright red at the tip, a vein running down his thickness. “Fuck.”

He hummed, stroking your shoulder. “I can’t wait for your mouth, Y/N,” he said, the catch in his voice letting you know he was growing impatient waiting.

Smiling you, pumped him a few times, the warmth of him in your fist stirring your stomach. Leaning over, you flattened your tongue against him, licking all the way up to the tip before popping your mouth over him. He took in a sharp breath, and you took more of him, slowly moving down to his base before moving back up again. The mattress creaked as he reeled, gripping onto the bed frame to keep himself balanced. You pulled away from him, wiping the saliva from your chin and touching his glistening shaft, before wrapping your warm lips around him once again. Flicking your eyes up, you met his gaze, dragging your tongue to his base and flicking it along the soft skin of his. He groaned, throwing his head back as your mouth ran over him, back to the tip. Your hot breath along his erection made him grip the headboard until his knuckles were white, and he exhaled when you swirled your tongue around him once again.

“Oh, my fucking God,” he muttered, and pushed your hair away from your face once your mouth was around him once again. He held you in place, bucking his hips up between your lips. He hissed through his teeth. “I love fucking that little mouth of yours, baby. You’re makin’ me feel amazing.”

He pulled out, running his tip along your bottom lip. You looked up at him. “Michael, I’d hate to sound impatient, but would it be so hard for you to fuck me into this mattress? Like, right now?”

He chuckled. “Turn around, Princess. I wanna take you from behind.” You did as told, your forearms pressed against his bed. Staring at his wall, you anticipated for him to do something – anything – to rid the ache between your legs. His grip found your hips and he slid his cock between your thighs, filling you up completely. You both tensed, for a minute, and he stayed still for a moment. “Oh, shit, you’re so tight.”

You hummed, leaning into his pillow, grinding your hips onto his as he adjusted. He began to thrust into you, letting you feel every inch of him touching you. Gasping, you scratched at the bed sheets, and dropped your forehead onto his pillow when his finger moved around to rub your clit. It was wet with his own saliva, which made your thighs shake. You could hear the screech of a microphone from the pub downstairs, and you thought how Michael would usually be performing right around now. Instead, he fucked into you while you lay in his bed, whimpering and your body begging for him to continue. You both were a mix of heavy breaths, his mouth blowing hot air onto your naked spine. He went to whisper something, but it caught in his throat as he felt you clench around him, and you were trembling by then, too.

“Oh, baby,” he maundered into your hair. “I think I’m gonna cum.”

“M-me too.” You ran your hand along Michael’s arm, which still stayed wrapped around you. His fingers were drawing lazier around your clit, but you were still on the edge. Glancing down, you kept your palm resting above his tattoos. You took in a broken gasp, shutting your eyes. “M-m-michael, I-I…” You cut off with a loud moan, voice cracking and fists tightening into your palms.

He followed after, gripping bruises into your waist and staying inside you for a moment after his climax. You could feel him whole, and had an aching emptiness when he pulled out, landing next to you on the mattress. You lay on your front, too tired to move. His warm fingers pushed your hair behind your ear.

“So, pretty girl,” he whispered, “I hope this isn’t the last time I see you.”

Stockholm Syndrome//H.S. Part. Four

Originally posted by emilyruddlife

Summary: Oral Sex.

Series Warnings: Violence and Sexual Situations, possibly triggering content. 

Word Count: 902

Word Density: “Down” and “Noel”

Part One./Part Two./Part Three.


“Breaking news! A man by the name of Harry Styles has been reported missing. Family and friends have reported his absence, saying he has been M.I.A for almost three weeks now. His wife, Noel Styles, has been obviously distraught by her husband’s absence. She’s only made two statements since she reported her husband missing, stricken with grief and fear. The distraught wife reports that they got into a physical altercation and he left without a trace. Since then, he has been missing. The police are at a standstill due to the lack of evidence and witnesses.That’s all we have for now, all we can do is pray for his family and hope  that Harry returns home.”


HARRY

Somehow I’ve gotten used to being down here. I’m still chained up, but it’s not so bad anymore.

Noel’s visits here become more frequent and she’s been giving me a bit more freedom. The other day she unchained me while I was unconscious.

Somehow this secret level of the house was already modeled to be some kind of livable space. It might as well have been another room in the house. It’s cozy down here, but I’m still terrified. She put a table down here so that we can eat together. She usually handcuffs my legs and one of my hands so I can’t leave. I can’t complain though. I know not to push it.

Keep reading

I Need You [Chris Schistad]

Prompt: Chris and the reader break up after an argument. After weeks of not talking to each other, Chris loses it as he sees her getting cozy with some guy at a party, and is unable to hide his feelings for much longer.

Pairing: Chris Schistad x Reader, a little of Jonas Vasquez x Reader

Fandom: Skam

A/N: This is definitely not my best piece of writing, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. 

Chris wasn’t the same. He was cranky and moody all around. He didn’t want to go out or flirt with girls, as many of his friends suggested to soothe the pain. Very unlike him, Chris spoke to no one about the topic and spent every night of the first two weeks after the breakup at home. It soon became evident that the handsome heartbreaker was now, suffering from his very first heart-breake. 

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Peter Maximoff

(Here’s a little Peter Maximoff imagine. I was inspired to write this when I was listening to “That’s the Way” by Led Zeppelin. I think I’m going to start writing a few fics like this when I’m having a hard time writing them out in full like my previous ones. I think this will work better for me at the moment since school has been pretty hectic. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little fic about my favorite silver haired Twinkie eating boy. I was definitely going to have some forest critters come and run off with his beloved snack but, I didn’t. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and feedback would be greatly appreciated!)

Take a Break

-Peter knew you were stressed.

-There was only two weeks left until the end of the school year.

-Unfortunately, you had failed a mock exam for one of your classes.

-The points for this final exam would be a huge percentage of what your final grade in the class would be.

-If you passed, your grade would go up.

-And if you didn’t, your grade would be knocked down a letter.

-It was upsetting because you had passed every assignment with flying colors.

-And now, you had failed the practice exam.

- You were working yourself hard because you were determined to pass it.

-Peter hated seeing you like this.

-Always stressing over school work and exams when you didn’t need to.

-You always got straight A’s in all your classes.

-You are one the smartest people he knows.

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Hide and Seek

Bucky x Reader Oneshot

Summary – You and some of the other Avengers are bored and decide to play hide and seek.  Your choice of hiding spots gets a little steamy.

Warnings – One cuss word and nudity is mentioned, but it’s pure fluff!

Word Count – 961

Notes – I’m in the middle of writing the series, Your Mission, Should You Choose to Accept it… and I needed a break.  This idea popped in my head while I was out watering my flowers, so I thought I would jot it down real quick.  Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist


Originally posted by dickiebirdgrayscn

It had been about two weeks since your last mission and most everyone had left the upstate New York facility to visit their families or just take a break.  Only Nat, Bucky, Steve, Sam and you remained in the compound.  

You and Sam were currently laying on the couch in the common room, stretched out in opposite directions. Sam was searching through Netflix trying to find something to watch while tapping his toes to some unknown rhythm in his head.

“Wilson, I swear, if you don’t stop it with the twitchy toes, I’m going to kick you off of this couch!” you yelled, annoyed that he was tapping his toes against your thigh.

“Sorry, (Y/N),” Sam whined, “but I’m bored out of my mind.”

“I know,” you agreed. “We’ve watched every movie and TV series possible.  It kind of makes me wish someone would threaten to blow something up so we can do something!”

“You guys bored, too?” Nat asked as she walked into the room.  “I’ve got an idea, if you’re up for it.”

You and Sam instantly sat up.  “What?” you both said at the same time.

“How about a game of hide and seek?” Nat suggested with a grin on her face.

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Just Beg Me To Stay (Part 3)

A/N: And here is the final part! Not sure how I feel about it but it’s what came out lol. Thanks for the love! You can find the two previous parts in my masterlist!

Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1000+

Warnings: angst, slight fluff, swearing

Tags: @the-great-irene @avengersgirllorianna @sdavid09 @codename-petrova @lipstickandwhiskey @today-only-happens-once @clemsonstatemom @deansgurlimagines @crazy-pleasures-and-crazy-habits @secretlywritessupernatural @kaedynce @zombi3gyrl07 @sandlee44 @itsjaybro16 @peachpoccs @kathrynxox333 @lovelifelovebooks @thelondondreamer5 @sveskee

You somehow managed to sober yourself up enough to push away from the hunter that stood before you, ignoring the girls whom you had met tonight call out your name in surprise.

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Gajevy Week: Prompt: Grief Tear Me Down to Build Me Up

Gajevy

Rated: M-ish

One-Shot

Tear Me Down to Build Me Up

Inspired by: “Come and Get It” by Krewella

Post Tartarus

“I’ve been thinking…”

“How come I have a feelin’ it ain’t about anything good…”

“I’m thinking of… when you were in Phantom Lord.”

The silence was thick and uncomfortable.

“I don’t wanna be thinkin’ ‘bout that, Lev… I hurt ya…”

“I know… but I realized it taught me a lesson. An important one.”

“You may see me struggle, but you will never see me quit…”

Levy read that line over and over. Despite how many times she tried to move her eyes away from it, she always ended up rereading the quote placed under the chapter title.

It described Fairy Tail.

It described her.

A soft sigh left her lips as it got her thinking.

Her family. Her friends. Her home. Her powers. Her present. Her future.

Her past…

Or more specifically her past with Gajeel. The events that shaped her currently.

It made her think of a lot of things about herself.

“Hey Levy!” Jet’s voice pulled her from her thoughts as he and Droy slid across from her.

“What’s got you so deep in thought?” Droy asked, offering her some of the cookies she had.

Absently she took a cookie and brought it to her lips, but rather than taking a bit her eyes glossed over in thought again.

“Earth to Levy!” Jet laughed, even after a year apart she was still the same, she blinked and gave them a confused look as she took a bite of the cookie. Giving an appreciative nod at the taste to Droy who grinned. “What are you so lost in thought about?”

“A lot of things really.” She hummed taking another bite. “Droy, this cookie is amazing.” Her fingers were in front of her mouth as she spoke, this earned a grin from the plant mage.

“No way, Lev. Cough it up.” Jet stayed firm as he watched the blunette swallow her bite.

“… My parents… Master Makarov… Phantom Lord… How I’ve changed.”

“Hold on, I must have heard you wrong. I thought you said Phantom Lord for a second.” Jet laughed awkwardly, trying to brush off her comment.

“I did.” Suddenly both men were silent.

“Why?” Jet’s voice came out sharper than he intended.

“This quote reminded me of my dad… something he used to say when I was little… and something Master once said was very much like my dad’s advice…”

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