do you think he imagined her waiting there for him

Persistence

content: Dean feels uncomfortable with the flirting attempts by the cashier at the grocery store, but thankfully Castiel comes to his rescue – though seriously not the way Dean expected.

word count: 2,174


Dean really doesn’t like visiting the small grocery store in Lebanon right at the town’s center.

And thankfully most of the time he’s got other options – mainly the big supermarket next to the highway –, but once in a while he’s got no other choice due to time issues or saving gas or whatever else might come up.

And it’s not like the store itself is crappy or something. No, not at all. It may be small, but it’s got everything they need, even Dean’s favorite brand of beer. Hell, they even sell those awesome chocolate brownies you can’t find nearly anywhere anymore!

So yeah, it’s a nice enough store.

But there’s a big problem – the cashier who seems to live in that stupid shop!

At least Dean’s got that impression since she’s always there when he walks through the door, smiling at him so broadly as soon as she spots him as if the only purpose of her life is waiting for Dean to arrive at the store.

Her name is Stacy and she looks like seventeen although she reassured him many times before (by emphasizing Every. Single. Word.) that she’s old enough to drink – while at the same time giggling like she just shared a juicy secret and fluttering her eyelashes in a way she probably thinks seductive. Her flirting attempts are countless, clumsy, awkward and leave Dean highly uncomfortable.

But she never stops.

Dean can’t help admiring her persistence a bit. Not even hints that he could easily be her father age wise made her back off. Dean tried being nice and polite about it and used grumbles and grunts a few weeks later when his maturity hadn’t been very effective, but nothing seems to impress that girl. Every time Dean starts to talk and attempts to make himself clear she simply sighs deeply and gazes into his eyes or checks out his ass, not at all interested in what he has to say.

It’s infuriating.

Even the apocalypse hadn’t been that annoying.

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BTS reaction when their gf have a habit to putting her hands under their shirt/sleeves

anon: Hi I got a request for you, how would they react to gf have a habit of putting her hand up his shirt/sleeves in a non-sexual manner but as an act of intimacy and closeness

I hope you enjoy your request! ♥

JIN

Originally posted by eatkookiie

please ignore this cute fan which is 1000% right

Jin would be okay with that but only when you two are alone. He’s confident abt his look and your habit assurance him in this mind (beacause if I’m not handsome she doesn’t want to touch me, right?). But it take him some time to inure with this. Still when he starts to feeling your cold hand on his chest he can get surprised.

“Maybe I will warm up your hands and then you will back to touching your perfect boy?”

YOONGI

Originally posted by yoonmin

Yoongi have the most soft looking skin in Bangtan so touching him can give you two times more joy. He doesn’t mind it. He would enjoy it but secretly without telling you about that. Maybe sometimes he can tease you but not too much. Yoongi can tell you to touch his arm not a belly around others or even when you two were alone. But if he was working in studio he can tell you to stop doing this. He would love this look on your face of happines when you get to touch his skin.

“If this make you happy just go on but it tickles. You’re such a wierdo Y/N”

HOSEOK

Originally posted by hobisu

Fanboing. It’s what he would do when you show your habit for the first time. Touching him is a sign of affection and it makes him happy. He thinks that it’s really cute habit. When you and the boys were watching movie and -without knowing abt this- you started to reaching for his abs, he would smile and kiss your forehead thinking how lucky he is to have you.

“Y/N, you’re cute. I love you and all your strange habits”

NAMJOON

Originally posted by rapfluff

Loving it. Enjoying even more then loving. I feel like he isn’t confident abt his look and your habit can make him more self-confident. Namjoon thought it is cute. When you can’t put up his sleeve he would help you with a smile on his face and lauging abt how desperate you look to touch him.

“Let me help you. You could'vesaid what you wanted to doo~”

JIMIN

Originally posted by itschiminie

Mochi can get shy when you touch his abs around boys and maybe ask you to start touching his arm or wrist. He doesn’t want to boys tease you two abt your habit. But after few times he wouldn’t mind it (but still of boys’re around better don’t do this). It can be really realxing habit of yours for him after busy schedule and tiring practice.

“You don’t even know how your touch effect on me. Like you make me realxed and healthy and give me feeling that someone really loves me”

TAEHYUNG

Originally posted by jeonthegreat

There he is. One and only one Tae which will tease you and laugh pretending that your touch tickles him. Gets shy but not acting like this too much. If you touch him around boys, he can say something like “Look. My lovely girl can’t hold back her hands to touch me” and starts to make some fun of you with others. But the feeling of your hand on his skin~~ When he is sad or just wanted to do this- he can take your hand and put it under his shirt or sleeves.

“I think that your habit is cute. And it was too long ago when you last time touching me. Soo now you can,Y/N” - and this representative smile

JUNGKOOK

Originally posted by hohbi

Second one which can tease you. Like “I know that I’m golden maknae and every one want to touch me”. He is international playboy, you know. But it was only to blind you mind. In his head was so many minds. What should I do? Push her away? Maybe start teasing her? FUCK! NAMJOON HYUNG HELP ME! He would act like he doesn’t see this habit but he really enjoy this and always waiting for this habit to show.

“I think that your habit is some kind of serious illness. What should I do with you, Y/N?” -smile and hug because he know you love it and doesn’t be angry at him after this.

Tell Me

Originally posted by lifetime-of-wishes

Prompt: A smutty, possessive John Shelby. 


She sprinted through the Birmingham streets, skirts flowing wildly around her. She could hear him behind her, his heavy steps growing closer each second. In a last ditch attempt to get rid of him she ducked around a quiet corner and pressed herself into the shadows. She was leaning against a cold stone wall in a little alley. No-one could see her in here, and she was confident that no one would walk down it either. She could still hear him running, his footsteps so familiar to her. Suddenly they disappeared. Ha, she thought, victorious. She to took a moment to catch her breath. Goddamn that boy had stamina, he’d chased her from one side of the city to the other. A few moments passed and she decided she was safe, pushing herself of the wall she began walking down the alley with a stupid grin on her face. Suddenly, she was pulled backwards and slammed into the wall. She open her mouth to scream but a hand covered it. She struck out at the body it was attached to - to no avail. That’s when she saw it, those intelligent blue eyes swirling with mischief.

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2

[x] - requested by anonymous

“What do you think, Archie?” Betty asked as Archie leaned up against the chair in front of him. Betty was excitedly talking about a new article she wanted to write for The Blue & Gold, and Archie was spending time with her while waiting for the rest of the gang to meet up with them.

“That sounds great, Bet-” Archie began, when you suddenly wandered into the room. He trailed off, sitting up slightly as he saw you. The two of you locked eyes, and you shyly smiled as he smiled back. 

“Sorry,” you quickly said. “I’m new here, and I’m kind of lost.”

Before Betty could respond to help you, Archie got to his feet. “Not a problem. I’m Archie, and I can show you around.”

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

2

 Original or requested: Original

 Pairing: Paul x Reader

 Word count: 730


 “You’ve lost your mind.” You feel so nervous that a laugh escapes your mouth. “He’s my friend! He’s just a friend! Is that so hard to understand? ”

 “Yes, because he loves you!”

 “He doesn’t love me, Paul! I’ve known him since forever.” You sit on the couch, closing your eyes for a few seconds to try to calm down.

 Paul freaked out when you told him you spend the day with Dean, an old friend. He came from Canada to see you since it’s been two years you’re living here in Forks.

 “You’re naive. You’ve always been naive and you can’t see what I can!” Paul is shaking, just like he’s just about to shift. You’re not scared. You were never scared of his temper.

 “I am smart enough to understand these things, Paul.”

 “I don’t think so since you’re apparently on his side.”

 “I won’t stop talking to him just because you’re jealous.” Picking up your phone, you text your friend Marilyn. She’s the only one who can help you with this kind of problems.

 “Don’t.” Paul takes the phone from your hands, throwing it at the wall. Shocked by his action, you gasp, trying not to punch him and break your arm. “You won’t text him.”

 “I WAS TEXTING MARILYN!” You yell, running to your bedroom. You start to pack your things while Paul tries to make you stop and the rest of the pack who’s home watching from the door frame. When you accepted to move in with the pack or your own safety, you used to complain about all those eyes on your relationship, but now you don’t care. “I’m done. If you don’t trust me then there’s no reason for me to stay. I love Dean like a friend and I love you because you’re the love of my life. Not my fault you can’t understand it.”

 “(Y/N), I’m still talking. Be rational and finish this conversation like an adult. ” The tone of his voice is rude and it breaks your heart.

 “I’m still leaving.”


 “I need you to stop crying and explain to me what happened.” Marilyn gives you some ice cream so you can eat something while you cry your heart out.

 “I told him I wanted he to think about us. But he told me he didn’t need to think. Then I told him I needed to think. Do you really think I would break up with him?”

 “I’m still confused.” Always honest, Marilyn takes a deep breath.

 “It’s about Dean!” You shout, making your friend jump on the couch.

 “Oh. Got it. But Paul loves you so much and I can understand him. He’s scared to lose you.”

 “He’s the love of my life. I already told him that a million times!”

 “I’m sure you did, but how would you act if he spent a whole day with a woman? Even if she’s just a friend of his? A whole day alone with her while you stay home.”

 You put the ice cream down to think. Well, to rethink. Maybe, just maybe, this is kinda your fault. Paul wouldn’t freak out if he went with you. And no, you wouldn’t like him to spend all that time with a friend.

 “Shit.”

 “Yes, shit. I’m not saying you have to apologize, but I do can imagine how he felt.”

 “I love him, Mary. So much.” You whisper, tears still rolling down your cheeks.

 “Call him.”

 And that’s what you do. Fearing that he may be rude to you like he did earlier, you patiently wait for him to answer the phone. When he finally answers, you both keep silent. Hearing his breath is enough to make you want to be with him again and this feeling takes your breath away. You barely feel it, this weird pain in your chest, since you’re always together, but you just can’t take it.

 “Paul…”

 “(Y/N), you have no idea how it hurts. Being away from you is… too painful.”

 “I know, Paul, I… I’m sorry. I love you. No one but you.” With a smile on your lips, you help Marilyn to pack up your things again. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. Whenever I want to see Dean you can come. I didn’t know how much it hurt you.”

 “I’m coming to bring you home. I love you.”

 “I love you too.”

CYOSTODA pt. 6: Dean Picks Truth

Characters: Dean, Sam, OFC Leah, and reader

Word Count: 6600-ish (I’m not even sorry this time)

Warnings: SMUT, voyeurism, f/f stuff, oral sex, sex - it’s porn

A/N: Okay, so if you’re following along, you should know that this is the part where all the sex happens. This is the conclusion for this particular thread of the story. So much love to our captain @littlegreenplasticsoldier for making this happen and for her patience while I had stuff going on. Also, love for @kayteonline and @saenalife for beta’ing and keeping me going when I hit the smut wall. What a crew to be a part of. Hope you enjoy!!

Get caught up:

Originally posted by deeceetrash

From part 5:

Although you would have loved to keep going, you didn’t think the game was quite done yet. There was no doubt in your mind that you had won this round, so you pulled away with a lingering kiss to the tip of his thumb and looked up at Dean with a tantalizing smile.

“So… truth or dare?”


His eyes focus on your lips for another few seconds, slick and shiny and hanging open a little. When he finally looks you in the eyes, he still wears a glazed-over expression.

“Dean?” you gently prompt, unsure that he’d actually heard you the first time. You start to reach for him, ready to shake him if need be, but with a clench on his jaw he seems to snap himself out of it. Staring you down intensely, he answers without a flinch.

“Truth.”

Your eyes remain locked with his, both of you unwilling to break the moment. He’s finally giving you the look, it’s more hungry and needy than you expected, but still exciting. Though he’s still kneeling above you, you’ve got the upper hand, holding his stare with a fierce look of your own; one you’d never tossed his way before, never really had the opportunity, but there’s no reason to back down now.

You close your mouth to swallow, still tasting him on your tongue, before asking, “Have you ever thought of doing anything like that to me before?” You dart your eyes between his, anxious for the honest truth.

He pauses, breathing deeply through his nose as he clenches his jaw, eyes narrowed slightly as he tries to pull back control.

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f*ck but just imagine Yousef thinking of things to message Sana that will get her to reply to him and he remembers that she likes basketball and he messages the notification of her liking Stephen Curry’s page and adds the cheeky “then you reply stalker” and he’s all nervous but hopeful and he waits and he waits and he waits and she doesn’t respond and his hope diminishes and he’s just deflated and he’s thinking to himself, what more can i do?

Sign of the Times (Part One)

Right, so I know I said I was going to do a one shot for each song on the Harry’s album, but for Sign of the Times I’m going to do a little mini series in three parts. This is part number one.

All Harry wants is a family, but can he convince his miss to get on board with the idea? And what happens to all this when it all goes wrong?

Let me know what you think, and if you have any requests for future oneshots, you can ask me HERE.

907 words.


Harry sat, fingers fidgeting with one of his many rings, nibbling his lip slightly as he considered how he was going to approach the daunting conversation which lay before him. He was going to have to tell her honestly what he wanted, but it was terrifying to think that it could be the catalyst to end their relationship, the relationship he was so deeply invested in, the relationship that he wanted to hold on to forever.

“I don’t believe in marriage.”

The words that she had spoken so casually, the words that had shocked Harry to his core, the words that he had played over and over in his mind ever since he had heard them. It wasn’t that Harry was obsessed with the idea, in fact he hadn’t really thought about it until it had been something that didn’t feel like an option to him anymore, but it was definitely something that he wanted.

The pair had been dating for what seemed like a life time. He couldn’t remember a time when they weren’t together, and that was exactly how Harry liked it. It didn’t feel like ‘dating’ or ‘being in a relationship’, it just felt like he had found his perfect companion and was lucky enough to get to do life alongside her. He had always thought that marriage was on the horizon; it seemed like the logical next step and Harry so eagerly wanted to make sure that they were together forever.

She had never been particularly conventional – she still bought CD’s, she shopped at second hand stores, she didn’t really like computers. But Harry never considered that this determination not to conform would spread to her desire to marry him, or anyone for that matter. More than anything, he wanted a family, and he was horrified at the prospect of that never happening for them, just because she was hung up on the idea of marriage.

Harry was startled from his thoughts at the sound of the door, his eyes darting up to watch the familiar figure as it made its way through the door. “Hey miss,” he said, smiling over at her. “Haz!” she smiled, dropping her handbag heavily and kicking off her shoes, charging at him and collapsing on top of him on the sofa. “Oh goodness I fuckin’ missed you today,” she mumbled, her hands wild as they roamed over his torso, her lips quickly finding his. He kissed her eagerly, savoring the feeling of those soft lips he knew so well against his. He dipped his tongue gently into her mouth, her own working against his in an effortless rhythm.

She eventually pulled away, looking up at him with bright eyes. “That’s better,” she smiled, pecking his lips before collapsing back against the opposite end of the sofa, their legs tangled together. Harry scanned his eyes over the mess of limbs and hair and woman before him and smiled back at her, shaking his head slightly. “Yer crazy,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Hey, ‘ve got ter talk to yer,” he announced, his tone changing slightly as he shuffled to sit up a little straighter. Her eyes widened slightly, the smiled dropping from her face as she moved to match his position. “That doesn’t sound good…” she murmured, leaning forward to rest a hand on his knee. “What’s happened?” she asked softly.

Harry took a deep breath, offering her a weak smile before beginning to speak. “’ve been thinking abou’ what you said abou’ not wantin’ to get married, and I totally respect tha’ an’ you an’ what yer stand for an’ what you want in yer life, an’ I totally get that I migh’ not be the one fer you, yer know like in the long term, cause yer such a free spirit and you deserve ter see the world and be with whoever you wan’,” he rambled on, the words spilling from him quickly and nervously. “But when I look at yer, I see a future, you know? And I don’ need convention or a big public announcement or ter spend lots of money but I need a family with yer. I wan’ ter raise little humans with yer. An’… an’… if yer can’t do tha’ with me, then tha’s fine but I need ter know now so we can stop while we’re ahead-“

She launched herself at him, scrambling across the sofa to get to him as quickly as she good, her eyes wide and worried, hands coming up to cup his jaw and thumbs rubbing anxiously back and forth over his cheeks. “Harry,” she murmured, pressing her lips to his. “The only reason I don’t want to get married is because I think it’s a silly, patriarchal convention. Not because I don’t love you. And definitely not because I don’t want to raise little humans with you,” she smiled slightly, her forehead coming in to rest against his. “You’re my one and only. You’re it, sweet boy. I’m here forever. And I can’t wait to start a family with you,” she whispered.

Harry let out an audible sigh of relief, his shoulders dropping a hands finding her waist. “Thank god. ‘Cause I think we’re gunna make some cute kids,” he chuckled, fingers slipping just under the hem of her shirt, fingers lightly caressing her bare skin. “So do I,” she agree, nuzzling in against him. “So do I.”

PART TWO - PART THREE

Mute

Genre: Angst holy shit
Words: 2,429
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.


Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Bucky slammed his fist into the wall of the quinjet, resulting in his teammates to look over at him warily. He didn’t pay them any attention. His mind was only able to focus on the situation at hand: you gave yourself to HYDRA to save him, and now you were paying the ultimate price.

He didn’t want to think about your frantic expression as you threw your arms up in surrender to all of the guns during the raiding of the HYDRA base, leaving him hiding in the shadows where they were unaware of him. He didn’t want to think about the look you secretly gave him as they escorted you away, telling him to get the hell out of there as soon as they turned their backs and put all of their attention on their new prisoner: you. He didn’t want to think about what they could be possibly doing to you at the very moment he sits useless in the quinjet. He didn’t want to think at all.

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EXO Reaction to you wanting to try Kama sutra positions

Seriously…  I swear XD Xoxo, Admin A~

/I don’t own any of the gifs used, unless stated otherwise/


Chanyeol:

“Promise me you won’t forget! I will do it but… promise me tonight you won’t say I’m crazy” *Someone’s pretty excited*

Kris:

*Sassy Kris* “You realize I’m a sex god right? Are you sure you want this baobei? Will you be able to stand this hot mess?” *Sassiest in the galaxy*

Sehun:

*Pretty excited* “Pfft… I thought she would never ask! Best day ever!”

Tao:

*Probably a little bit scared of… the unknown* “Did she just… how is a panda supposed to do those awkward positions?” 

Kai:

*Daydreaming about it the whole day* “I don’t think I’ll make it to the night… I can’t wait to try that 27…”

Xiumin:

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing all this time? I’m good aren’t I… you thought all the ideas came from my imagination”

Baekhyun:

*Pretty embarrassed because he didn’t know what it meant* “Hyung… I said no to her… because I didn’t know it was about…. what did I just do… kill me now!”

Luhan:

*You tell him a little about those weird positions* “Wait… is that even possible…? Not that I’m not in… just that… how are we going to… do we need some pilates classes or what?”

Chen:

*This is him every time he sees you passing by* “I won’t let you regret it… you are going to love it…”

Kyungsoo:

*Starts to do undress in that exact moment because if he gives it some thought he will be too embarrassed to move* “You’ve shown me a world I didn’t know existed… ”

Lay:

“If you want me… you know you don’t need to ask” *I don’t even have words for this*

Suho:

*Kinda having a meltdown because he can’t believe what he is hearing but he wants to believe in what he is hearing* “Every man’s dream… this is ever y man’s dream…”

[Masterlist] [Guideline]

I haven’t really tried to think too hard about season 7, but my thoughts (specifically about CS and Killian) are these if any one is interested:

I don’t think Killian will have any sort of new love interest.  Why?  Because if A & E are going to take the show in a ‘new direction’ (i.e. this is about Henry’s epic love story) then he would no longer be a central enough figure to even need one.  The role I see him in?  Henry’s best mate, or possibly Dania’s (since they work together in some capacity).  I can see him be the mentor, the guide, the replacement ‘David’.  And you know what?   I’m totally down with that.  Imagine all the snarky banter we could get between him and Henry.  Imagine the hope speeches (”I loved someone once.”  “What happened to her?”  “I lost her, but I do know that love is worth it, mate.”) because love has changed him, right? 

Maybe it’s just me, but I see plenty of potential for Colin to shine and be relevant without him needing any sort of LI.  Personally, I can’t wait to see how his relationship with Henry plays out.  And I think it could be amazing if he does wake from the curse and realize who he is because, yes, he’d want to get back to Emma, but if Henry (or Lucy) is in trouble, he’s going to do everything he can to help them and THAT is what I am really hoping to see this season.

Reunited

Warning: Smut

Being in a long distance relationship sucked, Joe decided.

He and Y/N had been doing long distance for the past six months, and it had been going well, but there were some days that were harder than others. Today was one of those days.
Mostly because she had been teasing him all day long, sending him pictures of different lingerie sets she was trying on, asking which one he liked best.

It was bad enough when she sent pictures to him while they were apart, but she knew that they were seeing each other tonight, for the first time in nearly a month, so it was worse, because Joe was getting a taste of what he would get later.

But he couldn’t do anything about it right now, even though he really wanted to do something about what those pictures were making him feel, because all the boys were round at his place.


“Will you stop texting your girlfriend and pay attention?” Jack threw a pillow over at Joe, who quickly locked his phone, the newest picture Y/N had just sent disappearing, before he looked up at the boys.

“Sorry,” He shrugged, “Just excited.”

“Oh right, she comes back tonight, doesn’t she?” Oli asked.

“Finally, yeah.” Joe nodded, a smile on his face.

“I didn’t know Y/N was coming back tonight!” Caspar said excitedly, “We have to all go out for dinner then! I want to see her!”

There was a loud chorus of agreement, the boys having all missed their female friend, and before Joe could get in a word of protest, it had been decided.

They were all going out as a group.

Internally, Joe groaned. Because that would mean longer before he would be able to get his hands on his girlfriend.

Externally, he smiled, telling his friends that he was sure she’d be excited to see all of them as well.

It was going to be a long night, on top of an already long day.


He knew the moment she stepped foot into the restaurant, even though he hadn’t seen her yet.

He just knew she was there, and Joe turned around in his seat, a smile growing on his lips as his eyes fell on Y/N, still searching the tables for them. As he stood, her eyes met his, and her entire face lit up.

“Hello, love.” Joe greeted her, pulling her into a hug as soon as she was close enough, her arms familiar around him.

“I missed you.” She mumbled against his neck.

“I missed you more.”

“We missed you too!” Caspar announced, forcing the couple apart as the boys stood to greet her as well.

Reluctantly, Joe stepped back, allowing them to get their hello’s and hugs in, although his eyes remained on her the entire time, eyes moving along the familiar curves, being displayed wonderfully by a tight dress. And he knew what was hidden underneath, because of the newest pictures she had sent earlier in the day.

He was ready for dinner to be done already.

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anonymous asked:

Can you like imagine a scenario where Yuu resurrects Akane and first thing he does is grab onto Mika and be like "I heard about your little crush but guess what? HE'S MINE BITCH!" and everyone loses their shit because that was his real reason for wanting to bring her back.

I love the headcanon of Yuu and Akane being love rivals when they were kids.

But I think Yuu would wait for her to… well, catch up on everything, before doing something like that lol.

One day he’s like “I guess I won” and she simply stares at him and sighs “I can’t believe you’re 4 years older than me now and I’m still more mature than you.”

Brooklyn Beckham - You’re welcome

I had a dream about Brooklyn, it was something like this, but we were in an apocalypse… but I didn’t write it into it lol. Hope you’ll like my first Brooklyn imagine

MASTERLIST

“I hate her! And I hate my mom for making me do this!” Brooklyn raged as he stormed into my room without knocking or anything, but I was already used to him.

“May I ask what we are talking about?” I sighed sitting up and I put my biology book aside to pay all my attention to him.

“Remember Darla?” he asked throwing himself down to the bed.

“The annoying daughter of your mother’s friend,” I asked thinking about the name. I only met her once, but that was more than enough. She would shut up the whole time and was only talking about herself, like, who cares girl?

“Yes! Oh God, my mom told me she is coming over today and I have to hang out with her and maybe ask out.”

“What? Why should you ask her out?” I asked feeling my stomach churning. I didn’t like the thought of him dating someone. We may had been best friends for long years, but I also wanted it to be something more, I was just waiting for him to make the first step. But in the meanwhile I absolutely didn’t want him to go on dates with other girls.

“I have no idea! She said something about a douche that dumped her, but I don’t know why I have to be the one who hits on her,” he growled shutting his eyes closed. I tugged my hair behind my ears thinking what he should do, and then I had an idea that could help him out.

“What if you had someone?” I asked looking at him. He peaked up at me curiously and furrowed his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that your mom wouldn’t force you to date her if you already had a girlfriend. And if you want, I can be your fake girlfriend,” I explained. He raised his eyebrows at me sitting up.

“You would do that?”

“Sure, we are friends,” I smiled at him a bit painfully. I knew this fake relationship thing would just make it worse for me, but I was willing to take this risk to help him.

Later that day we went over to their house to get over this whole Darla thing. We stood at the door trying to get ready for our act.

“We have to convince my mom, don’t care about Darla.”

“Victoria will know that we are faking it,” I said looking up at him as I chew on my bottom lip. She knew both of us so well I was afraid she wouldn’t fall for it.
He stared at me for a moment before shaking his head.

“We can do it. Come on.” He grabbed my hand, laced our fingers together and we walked inside. I immediately heard Victoria’s laugh from the kitchen as she was talking to someone. Brooklyn pulled me towards the voices and then I saw his mom with Darla in the kitchen.

“Oh, you are home I was just…” Victoria started, but then her eyes shifted to our hands and then she looked up at his son in surprise. “Didn’t know Y/N was coming over. Is there something you would like to tell me, Honey?” she asked with a charming smile.

Darla was just sitting there staring at me and I started to feel uncomfortable.

“Uh, sure,” he nodded and all three of us walked into the living room leaving Darla alone. I had no idea what was about to happen, but I wanted to convince Victoria, so I was just going with the flow.

“So, I can see something new,” she smiled at us crossing her arms on her chest taking a good look at us.

“Yeah, Mom, Y/N and I are kind of dating.”

“Since when?” she raised her eyebrows.

“Not so long ago, but Mom, it’s privacy, we already talked about it,” he replied rolling his eyes.

“Sure. If you are dating, can I see a lovely kiss?” I knew she would want to see proof, my heart started to beat really fast, but I tried to keep it together.

“Mom, are you kidding? Which teenage boy would want to kiss in front of his mother?”

“Do I look like I care?” she sassed back and I knew she wouldn’t let it go, so I had to do something.

“I don’t wa-“ Brooklyn started, but I grabbed his neck and pulled his head down so I could kiss him.

He was taken aback from my action, but a moment later he put his arms around me and kissed me back. I imagined this a million times, but it never included his mom watching us. Could a first kiss be even more awkward? His kiss was quite convincing, it felt like he wasn’t even doing it for the show.

Keeping it short we had to pull away and I saw a smug grin on Victoria’s face, then Brooklyn spoke up.

“Mom, can you leave us alone for a minute?” he asked confusing me, I didn’t know what could be so important in that situation.

“Sure, I’ll be in the kitchen,” she nodded walking out of the room.

“What’s wro-“ Now he was the one to cut me off.

He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me to him kissing me fiercely. This wasn’t just an act, it was real. He kissed me because he wanted to. I hugged his neck tightly not wanting to let him go. He pushed me against the wall without breaking our kiss. We made out for long minutes before we were able to stop. My chest was rising and falling heavily as I tried to inhale as much air as I could.

“This fake thing is over here,” he told me looking into my eyes. “It’s real.”

I didn’t even need to reply anything, everything was clear. Victoria ditched her plan on hooking Brooklyn up with Darla and left us alone. I spent the afternoon with him and even though we were mostly just kissing, this was still the best day I had ever had.

When I was about to leave and we were standing at the front door, Victoria came up to us.

“You’re welcome,” she smiled at us.

“For what?” he asked saying the exact same thing I was thinking about.

“For bringing you together. You think I wanted you to date Darla? She is annoying,” she said rolling her eyes. “I knew you would make this play and it would bring you together. So you’re welcome, son.”

She walked away with a satisfied grin on her face and I couldn’t believe she did this to us, but I was thankful to her. Without her I would have still been in the friend zone waiting for him to do something.

I owed her big time.

Unstable (Part 3/?) (Parker/Avengers x reader)

Part 2

“Steve…I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry…”

“Does anyone know where Vision is?!”

“Steve…I can’t stop it…I’m sorry…”

“I know, (Y/N)…it’s not your fault…”

“FRIDAY, where the hell is Vision?  Or Maximoff?”

Keep reading

Every Breath Becomes A Prayer

commission for @whouffaldi-that-is-all, art done by @luluxa (who Tumblr won’t let me tag for some reason, sorry!), fic by me

AO3 Fic Link


The water is warm. Given how many planets the Doctor has been to in his lifetimes, there shouldn’t be anything on a level as basic as this that surprises him anymore, but it does, this time.

It’s probably the thunderstorm. The howling wind and the chopping waves that had raged so fiercely underneath Clara as the pirate held her over the side of the ship by her throat, and threatened to drop her if the Doctor came any closer.

The Doctor had been sure he could talk the Sarkanian down. He’d been wrong.

In his mind he can still see Clara falling, still hear the sound of her scream, feel the blood pounding in his ears as he had watched with horror as her tiny form had hit the waves with a clap and instantly disappeared.

Of course, within a second he had forgotten about the Sarkanian’s existence and dove overboard after her with no preparation but a shout of her name.

And now, the warm water envelops him as he tries to see her, tries to make out her form in the darkness. It’s hopeless. He digs in his pockets for a light, anything that might help, and finds a little flashlight he is able to shine through the dark, churning depths around him.

Panic seizes his hearts when he still can’t see anything, but then they leap in his chest when he sees the familiar shape in the water some distance away. It’s an effort to swim over to her, the churning current working against him with every push of his arms and legs, but he eventually gets to her.

She isn’t conscious.

He can’t let himself focus on that now, he can only hold her to his chest with one arm and use the other and his legs to push him towards the surface.

His respiratory bypass stops him from getting too oxygen-starved, but it still takes much longer than he would like, if only because he’s worried about Clara.

Finally, he breaks the surface and gulps in the humid air, looking around. The TARDIS had landed on a tiny island, one he can just make out now, not too far off. The island, when they had landed, had been occupied by a band of pirates - well, mercenaries, they called themselves - who had stopped to restock on water and food.

It hadn’t taken long for the Doctor and Clara to be taken as hostages, but then things had gone sour quickly, and now they were both overboard.

But he can get to the island. He can do it. Humans might have pitiful lung capacity, and pretty much laughable physiology in general, but they are also surprisingly resilient, especially when it comes to clinging to life, and there is none stronger than Clara Oswald.

All the same, worry has a tight grasp on both of his hearts. It almost chokes him as he swims for shore, but he ignores it, letting the mantra of she cannot die she cannot die she cannot die drive him on. She is still against his chest, and he shifts her to get a better grip, kissing her hair almost absently.

“Almost there, Clara, just hold on,” he murmurs. There is, of course, no reply.

The waves carry them in for the final leg and the Doctor and his aching arms are relieved.

The Time Lord and human are washed up on the dark sand, the warm water lapping at their legs, and the Doctor coughs out seawater, before pulling Clara just a bit higher up the sand.

“Clara,” he says, leaning over her, hands ghosting over her face. “Oh, Clara, Clara, why did you have to be so… obtuse?” He feels his lips twitch. “Yeah, I know, this coming from me.”

She isn’t breathing, and when he checks her pulse, it’s barely there.

He opens up her airway, braces his hands against her chest, and starts compressions. Not too hard, not enough to break her, but hard enough. He counts and lets his mind focus on the numbers, because the alternative is thinking about how her pulse had felt like it was fading.

Pause in compressions.

He lowers his head and covers her mouth with his, breathing as much oxygen into her as he can.

come on come on come on come on come on

He starts the compressions again, a bit harder, fuelled by even more desperation. “What was that you said to me, Clara? You die with the next person. You do not die with me.”

Another dip down, breathing into her with everything that he has. He stares, waits, and checks her pulse. He’s not even sure if he can make it out, or if it’s his hopeful imagination.

“No!” He shouts, slapping the sand with his palms before taking a deep breath, planting his hands back on her chest, and starting the compressions again. He will not allow this to happen. To keep Clara Oswald alive, he thinks he might just tear down the very sky above him, and that thought is terrifying, but somehow still not as terrifying as the prospect of Clara being dead.

Keep reading

Not Expecting That (Connor Murphy x Reader)

Prompt: One night stand tend to not be the best idea. Especially with someone you hate.

Rate: PG-13

Warnings: Cursing (it’s a connor fic come on), gets a little steamy in the middle of this, lack of editing and an extremely tired author

Word count:4400+

part 2 coming soon!

You stood in the bathroom, leaning over the counter as you waited quietly. Seven minutes. Seven of the longest minutes of your life. You couldn’t help but let a long aggravated sigh pass your lips as you pushed back from the counter and leaned against the lock door behind you.

Slowly, you slid down the door until you were sitting on the bathroom floor with your knees pulled up to your chest. You put your head on top of your knees and sat there, reflecting on how you had come to be sitting in your bathroom floor, waiting for a pregnancy test to finish developing at the age of seventeen.

*

“Come on, (Y/N)! You have to come. Don’t be a party pooper!” Jared said as he stood at your door step, his hand wrapped around your wrist as he playfully pulled you out of the house.

“I really don’t wanna go to a party.” You mumbled but Jared shrugged his shoulders and flashed a smile at you.

“Too bad, you’re coming.” He said and you groaned loudly, throwing your hands up in defeat. Jared jokingly threw his hands up in the air and cheered ad you turned on your heel to go back inside and gather your things. Your parents were out of town for the next month, so you didn’t have to worry about trying to sneak out or around them. After double checking that the door was locked, you pulled it shut and followed Jared to his car.

The ride to the party was filled with bad singing and jokes, considering the fact that Jared was one of your best friends and had been since you were younger. Your families were friends, so it wasn’t a surprise that you two had grown close.

Jared pulled up in front of a house that seemed too large to belong to almost anyone that you or Jared would have known, so you tilted your head to the side as you glanced over at Jared.

“Who’s party is this again?” You asked and Jared tapped his chin slightly before throwing up his index finger and making an ‘Aha!’ noise.

“His name is like Derek Chimbs. He’s the quarter back, I think.” Jared said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, a smile on his lips as he lead you to the house.

**

You leaned back against the door a little more as you picked up your phone off of the ground, checking the time left on the timer. 6 minutes. You groaned out loud, each minute felt like a year was passing by. Leaning your head back against the door, your head craning up at the ceiling, you closed your eyes and prayed for these minutes to pass by quicker.

**

“Here!” Jared said as he pushed a drink into your hand, you weren’t even sure what was in the cup but you wasted no time knocking the drink back.

“Oh fuck, that was strong.” You said, a cough racking your body as you glanced over at Jared, who was both giggling and looking at your with a triumphant smile on his lips.

“I called it the Jared ‘Cool'man shot.” He said, his normal dorky smile still playing on his lips as you bursted out laughing. That’s how the majority of the night went, Jared handing you random drinks and you laughing at whatever ridiculous name he had come up with them.

Maybe three hours into the party, you were wasted. The room was spinning around you, your words were slurring but you felt wonderful. Jared stood beside of you, the two of you laughing and telling jokes, knocking your cups together before chugging the drink. To be honest, this was the most fun you had ever had at a party, and it was thanks to Jared being there with you.

“Oh, fuck.” Jared said, his eyes glued across the room. You tilted your head to the side slightly and glanced over to where he was looking, but it just looked like a sea of people.

“What?” You asked as you spun back around to face him.

“Zoe Murphy is here. God, she is hot!” Jared screamed, and you bursted out laughing. This caused the taller of you two to glare down at you, before smacking you in the back of your head.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

“My feelings for Zoe Murphy no laughing matter, have you seen her?” Jared said, in all seriousness as he got closer to your face. If you weren’t also intoxicated, you would have been able to really smell the alcohol on his breath because of how close he is.

“Go after her, tiger.” You said as you patted his back. The childish boy lit up like a Christmas tree as he nodded quickly.

“I’m gonna hit her with my slick moves.” He said as he dissapeared into the sea of people. You sighed quietly as you glanced around the party, hoping to see someone else that you knew. You weren’t exactly the most talkative of people, didn’t make friends the easiest. That wasn’t to say that you didn’t have friends, but Jared was the only one who you expected to see at parties.

You spent the next thirty minutes just walking around the large house, mingling with random people as you did. You had only had one other drink since the time that Jared left, and you weren’t even completely done with it. You continued to walk around, not really paying attention as a couple of boys came running full force through the house and one of them managed to your cup. The liquid flew back and landed on the maroon shirt you were wearing, causing a large stain straight down the front of it.

The guy didn’t even bother stopping after he drenched your shirt. You shook your head as you began to push your way through the crowd of people, glancing over to see Jared with his tongue down a drunk Zoe’s throat, and his hand under her shirt. You shook your head slightly, laughed a little bit but continued to walk to the door.

The fresh air hit your face, quite a difference from the smell of teenage body odor and alcohol. Taking a deep breath, you walked to the staircase that lead to the front door and sat down on the last one with your head in your hands. Jared had been your ride here, you couldn’t take his car and your house was too far to walk intoxicated from here. You also really didn’t want to sit in an alcohol covered t-shirt for the rest of the night.

You closed your eyes, leaning your head against the handrail beside of you. A small sigh escaped your lips as you attempted to block out the loud music the you were still able to hear even being outside. It worked for a little bit, before a voice pulled you out of your semi-quiet moment.

“Well you look like fucking shit.” The voice chuckled, and your eyes shot open, a small scowl forming over your features as you met eyes with none other than Connor Murphy. You rolled your eyes slightly as you looked at him, still scowling.

“Oh, thank you so much Connor.” You spat. You and Connor had never, ever gotten along. Since you first met in first grade and Connor stole your bottle of glue, you had grown to hate him. He picked at you, you cussed him out. That was how your entire relationship for ten years had gone.

“You’re welcome.” He said, nodding his head at you. His eyes slowly trailed down to the giant stain on your shirt, and he had to stifle a chuckle.

“So, can you really just not hold you alcohol?” Connor asked, and if it was possible, your eyes would have been burning holes into his head.

“Some asshole ran into me and knocked my drink over my shirt. I can hold my alcohol just fine.”

“Uh-huh. Totally believe that.” He said, rolling his eyes. You flipped him off, and he returned the favor. “Fuck you too.” Connor said, and you chuckled quietly.

“Why are you even here Murphy?” You asked, and he shrugged slightly as he glanced towards the door.

“Zoe said something about a party and free booze. But, I got here and you’re fucking sitting outside, so I have yet to get inside.”

“I’m not stopping you, you can walk around me.” You said, and a small shiver ran through your body. It wasn’t particularly cold, but between the wetness of your shirt and the alcohol in your system, you couldn’t help the small shivers.

“Are you cold?” Connor asked, a small amount of concern lacing through his voice. You were shocked for a second, but only a second because he followed it up with. “Not that I fucking care or anything.”

“Oh, thank you so much Connor. Yes, yes I am cold.” You mumbled out, and Connor shuffled around for a moment before he let out an aggravated sigh before extending his hand to you.

“Come the fuck on. I’ll get you another shirt.”

**

You chuckled quietly at the thought of Connor acting like he actually cared about you. For almost eleven years, the two of you had been nothing to but swore enemies and usually spent yours days attempting to making each other’s lives hell. But that night, Connor had decided to be nice to you. You werent in any position to turn down getting out of the alcohol covered shirt, or to turn away Connor being nice to you.

You shook your head as you checked your phone again, the timer having gone down to four minutes. A groan passed your lips as you smack your head back against the door a few times. You were completely unaware that minutes could pass by so slowly, each second seemed like it was taken an hour. You just wanted this to all be over with.

**

Connor parked the car he drove to the party in the drive way, and you quickly followed after him. When he went in through the front door, you raised your eyebrow and Connor glanced back at you, rolling his eyes.

“My parents are out of town. How do you think Zoe got away with sneaking out to go to a party? My parents would fucking kill her if they were home.” Connor said, and you nodded as you slowly followed after him, shutting the door behind of yourself. When you turned back around, Connor was no where to be found so you stumbled around the house until you ended up in the kitchen.  You pulled yourself up on a counter, kicking your feet back and forth slightly as you waited for Connor to return from wherever he had dissapeared to.

Humming to yourself quietly, you glanced around at Connor’s kitchen. It was nearly double the size of the kitchen at your house, and much cleaner than yours. The walls were a creme color, with tile counter tops. In the middle of the room was a round kitchen table that awkwardly had 5  hairs tucked under it. Your thoughts on the room though were interrupted by Connor’s voice from the door way.

“You’re staring at the kitchen table, where there are fucking chairs, but you chose to sit on the counter?” Connor asked, rolling his eyes. Due to the fact that you hadn’t heard him enter, you jumped slightly and turned to look at him with a scowl on your face.

He had started to laugh quietly after he scared you. Since going upstairs, Connor had pulled his hair up into a top knot, and he was holding a dark colored shirt in his hands. The sleeves on his hoodie were pushed up to his elbows and the hoodie was almsot completely unzipped. You shook your head slightly as if to shake the scowl from your face.

“Is that shirt for me?” You asked, and Connor glanced down at the shirt before he threw it at you. You caught the soft material in your hands and glanced back up at Connor.

“You can leave now.” Connor said suddenly, and you were a little taken back by this. You knew that Connor and you had never really gotten along, but you didn’t expect him to throw you out so suddenly.

“Why?”

“I mean it’s not like you would wanna hang out with me anyways. You fucking hate me like everyone else on the planet.” Connor said, his hands balling up into fists at his side.

“I never said I wouldn’t want to hang out, did I?” You asked quietly and Connor let out a laugh, shaking his head.

“You must think I’m stupid. Like all the fucking rest of them. You all think I’m just some big fucking loser, and probably wish I was fucking better off dead!” Connor shouted at you, and you tilted your head to the side as you slid off of the counter and walked over him. You reached out slowly towards his hand, but once your skin touched his, he ripped his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Connor said as he took deep breaths. You were sure if he was having a panic attack, or if he was just this angry. Once again, you reached down and grabbed his hand, holding it firmly in both of yours. He attempted to pull his hand away from you, but you just held your grip and pulled him back towards the counter. You pulled yourself back up on the tile, so you could meet Connor’s eyes as you rubbed small circles on his hand.

“Hey, just breathe okay? You’re okay. You just gotta look at me and breathe. Okay? I don’t hate you, and I don’t think anyone else does. People are just hateful.” You whispered quietly. Connor didn’t say anything, he just stood there, his eyes locked with yours as he focused on your breathing.

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly, and Connor didn’t answer. Instead, he crashed his lips against yours. For the first moment of the kiss, you were confused but you started to kiss him back. He moved slowly closer to you, his hand moving to the back of your neck as your head craned back to keep your lips together. The kiss became sloppy and needy quickly, your hands roaming down to his jacket, unzipping it all the way and pushing the front of it down quickly. Connor seemed to follow your lead as he pulled the Jacket off his arms, leaving him in a baggy tank top.

He pushed your legs apart and slid in between them, your legs wrapping around his skinny middle and your arms wrapped around his neck. Connor lifted you up off the counter, his hands rested on your bum as he carried you towards his room. A small giggle passed your lips as you pulled back from the kiss, slowly starting to kiss down his neck and down to his collarbone. This action made you receive a small growl from Connor as he tossed you on his bed.

You started to glance around his room to try to take in what it was like, but you didn’t have time to take anything in because Connor climbed on top of you and captured your lips in his again. Your hands moved slowly to his top knot, pulling it out so that his hair would flow down to his shoulders. Nearly instantly you buried your hands into his hair, and the man groaned quietly into the kiss.

His hands toyed with the bottom of your shirt for a moment before you pushed him back, breaking the kiss. Connor looked slightly confused, but when you slipped your shirt off of your body, he nodded his head and reattached his lips to your neck, kissing and nipping at the skin. This earned a small moan from you. Connor smirked against your skin as his hands started to roam along your middle, slowly making their way around to your back. It took him a few moments, but he finally unhooked your bra.

You pulled the straps off your shoulders and discard the piece of fabric. Connor’s left hand went to grip your breast slowly, neading the small bead in between his index finger and thumb. You squirmed slightly under his touch, and he responded by kissing down to your nipples, taking on in his mouth.

A gentle gasp escaped your lips as Connor flicked his tongue over the area, sucking and nipping on it slightly. He then continued to leave sloppy kisses down your stomach until he reached the top of you leggings, and he glanced up at you, as if asking permission.

You nodded your head and Connor slid his finger under the waistband, pulling them down to your knees. You impatiently kicked your leggings the rest of the way off your body, and Connor chuckled quietly.

Connor’s finger looped under your underwear, but you playfully pushed his hand away and shook your finger at him when he looked up at you.

“It’s not fair that I’m almost naked, and you’re still fully clothed.” You said, a small giggle passing your lips as you grabbed his wrists and flipped him over, throwing your leg over his mid-section so that you were sitting on his stomach, straddling him.

You leaned down and kissed him roughly, your hands slowly moving up under his shirt until you broke the kiss long enough to pull Connor’s shirt off and throw it to the side. You began to kiss down his neck slowly, nipping and sucking at his skin, receiving a quiet groan from the man. You slowly moved yourself back, until you had your barely clothed middle rested on top of his hard on through his jeans.

“God fucking dammit.” Connor said as he watched you slide lower down his legs until you were placed in the middle of them, your hand pawing at his length through his jeans. The man let a small moan pass his lips as you unbutton his pants and slid them down, leaving only both of you in your underwear.

**

An alarm like noise pulled you from your thoughts, and you glanced down at your phone. The timer you had set when you first took the test was timed out, and you felt your hands shake slightly as you pushed yourself up and stood by the door for a moments.

“Please be negative. Please be negative.” You whispered quietly as you took a few small shuffles towards the upside down pregnancy test. Your hands were shaking as you reached down and picked it up, slowly flipping over.

“One line, Not pregnant. Two Iines, Pregnant.” You said aloud to yourself before you glanced at the middle, and your heart dropped to your feet. Staring back at you, were two pretty pink lines and you felt like you could have puked in that moment. You were pregnant, with Connor Murphys baby.

//

The next few days were a blur, you had barely left your bed and when you did, it was eat or throw up what you had eaten. Mostly you laid in bed and stared at your stomach, your shirt pulled up snd placed under your breasts so that you could see the entirely of your stomach. You would poke and rub at it, still in shock that there was a person growing inside of there.

You hadn’t told Connor. You hadn’t told anyone, not even your parents. (Who had extended their trip another two months. You silently thanked any higher being for that.) But you decided that today, you were gonna tell at least Jared. You had called him about twenty minutes ago, and you finally heard a knock on your door.

You pushed yourself up off your bed and made your way down to the door, but noticed half way down the stairs that Jared was already standing in your house, waving your spare key at you with a grin on his face.

“I let myself in.” He said with a smug grin, and you shook your head.

“I gotta remember to move that damn key.” You chuckled as you sat down on your couch, Jared literally throwing himself on the couch beside of you, causing you to pop up off the couch a little bit.

“So why did you call me over? I was playing Halo and my team was totally winning, all thanks to me, and then I had to let them down by telling them that my smokin’ hot best friend invited me over. They were all incredibly disappointed.” He said, and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m sure.” You said before sighing quietly. Jared’s face went from goof, to slightly serious as he saw how tense and almost sad you looked.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?” He asked, and you pushed yourself off of the couch, holding up a finger to single ‘one minute’ as you disappeared into the bathroom. You came back with the pregnancy test in your hand, and sat down beside of Jared again.

His eyes instantly went wide as he saw the white and pink stick in your hand, and he threw his hands up in the air. “Whoa! What the fuck?! Are you pregnant?” Jared asked.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded your head, and Jared slowly and awkward wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closed to him. “Do you uh, do you know who the father is?”

You nodded but didn’t answer. You didn’t want Jared to make fun of Connor since it was no secret that Jared and Connor didn’t get along either.

“I uh, who is it?”

“You’re gonna make fun of me if I tell you.” You mumbled quietly, and Jared let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“No I’m not, it’s not like it’s Connor Murphy or something.” He laughed, and you tensed in his arms slightly and started to fiddle with your fingers. Jared gasped slightly as he pulled you back, holding you by your shoulders so you would be forced to look at him.

“It’s not Connor Murphy, is it?” Jared asked, more seriously. When you didn’t reply, Jared groaned loudly and he threw himself back on your couch. “Are you serious? You fucked Connor?”

You gave a small nod.

“When the fuck did you fin- Nope, nevermind, I dont want to know,” Jared said. “Have you told the freak yet?”

“Hey, don’t be mean. But no, how in the world do you tell someone you barely know that you’re going to have their kid?”

“I mean, any normal person I could help with, but this is Connor fucking Murphy.” Jared said, laughing quietly at the end of his sentence.

You groaned, shaking your head. “You’re no fucking help.”

Jared was silent for a moment before he placed his hand on your shoulder, “Do you want me to take you to the Murphy house and wait with you?”

You nodded your head and Jared pulled you up to your feet. You grabbed your bag and placed the test in it before the two of you went out to Jared car.

The ride over to Connor’s house was quiet and you couldn’t help but notice that Jared’s normal reckless driving had been replaced with careful turns, making sure he had his turn signal on and that you were wearing your seat belt.

“You know, just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean that you have to suddenly treat me like precious cargo.”

“I just dont want Murphy to murder me if I end up hurting you or it! The guy’s fucking psycho!”

You sighed, knowing that Jared wasn’t exactly wrong. Connor had problems, and you weren’t exactly sure how Connor was going to take this. As you pulled up to Connor’s house, Jared parked across the street.

You sat there for a few moments, wiping your sweaty palms on your leggings. You continued to tell yourself that you needed to just go, and get this over with. You knew you needed to, but you were terrified.

You must have sat there for a moment too long before Jared reached over and unbuckled your seat belt, beginning to shoo you away with his hands.

“Go get him, hot momma!” Jared said as you opened the door. You rolled your eyes and shut the door.

“Please, please never call me hot momma again.” You said, shaking your head as you started up towards the Murphy door. Standing awkwardly there for a few moments, you finally brought your hand up to the door and knocked three times.

The door was opened a few moments later, and there stood Connor Murphy in all his glory. His hair was slightly messier than normal, his eyes showed how confused he was that you were here.

“(Y/N)?” He asked.

“I uh, can I come in?” You asked, and he stumbled backwards slightly to allow you room to come in. You let a small laugh pass your lips as you followed the boy upstairs. The house was oddly quiet, so you assumed that he was home alone.

He lead you to his bedroom, and the two of you sat down on the bed. You sat at the edge near the bottom, and Connor sat at the top near the middle.

 You sighed quietly as you glanced down at your hands, fiddling with your fingers as you tried to find the words you were looking for. But all you came up with was, “I uh, I just needed to tell you something. Like we need to talk about something important.”

Connor scoffed, rolling his eyes as he flopped back on his bed. “Did you come all this fucking way to tell me that you regret sleeping with me and that you don’t want me to fucking tell anyone?”

Your eyes went wide as you started to shake your head. “T-thats no-”

He cut you off, “No, I fucking get it. You dont want to ruin your image by people finding out that you slept with Connor Murphy, the fucking freak!”

“Connor, if you w-”

“Well don’t fucking worry (Y/N), it’s not like I fucking have anyone to tell!”

“If you would just list-”

“I can’t fucking believe that you came all this fucking way just to tell me t-”

“I’m fucking pregnant!” You screamed out, cutting off him mid word as he had done to you so many times previously.

He stopped in his tracks, his mouth snapping shut as he looked at you. His eyes were wide as the two of you just stared at each other for a moments. No words were said, instead only the faint sound of both of you breathing filled the room.

“Wait, really?” Connor mumbled, and you nodded your head.

“Yeah.”

“Well… that’s not what I was expecting.”

For Fear Is No Longer

Written for the darling @funkzpiel; I hope your day is better <3


There are many things Percival is prepared for in his line of work. Death is one of them, grievous bodily harm and torture are another two. Since finding his home in the soft, awkwardness of Newt, he’s steeled himself for when Newt decides to end their relationship. Every time there’s a note from the red head, or when Newt mysteriously asks him out for meals, he mentally prepares himself for the quiet let down and the disappointment that always tails behind the words of “you’re not good enough.” He wakes up each day staring at his scarred body in the mirror and runs a mental catalogue of all the scars he can think of. There’s the Deathly Hallows sign burned into his neck and a bite mark on his shoulder Grindelwald left that won’t ever fade (he doesn’t like thinking of that one, hates the feeling of the dark wizard deep within him as he took the last bit Percival had of himself). There’s a bruise on his hip from when he bumped into the corner of his desk the other day, and a long gash crossed diagonally over his stomach, and there’s a small cut behind his ear that he got as a child. He wonders why Newt, freckled face, gentle, innocent Newt, would want to stay with him, and he thinks there’s only so much time before he’s alone again.

Anyway, it’s a fairly normal day at work. Other than the fact that all the enchanted mice decide to congregate in his office, which gives Percival quite the shock when he strolls in, coffee in hand and ready for yet another bone-crushing day at work. It’s a good half an hour before they manage to contain and remove the mice, and when his office is finally mice free, he sinks into his chair and starts reading the first report on his chair. But Goldstein bursts through the doors, and Percival hasn’t had the chance to tell her off (You’re paying for the door if it breaks, Goldstein) when the pale faced witch tells him Newt’s been badly hurt. He stands and whirls out of the office, wordlessly demanding to know what’s happened and where Newt is now. Half of his mind is trained on Tina’s breathless explanation, that Newt was hurt when some smugglers found out he was rescuing creatures that were to be put up for sale at the black market. The other half of his mind is filled with a repeated mantra, one that spurs him to move faster, “Gods please let him live. Let him not die. Please let him live.”

The wizarding hospital Newt is taken to bustles with activity, but Percival sees only the path forward to Newt, because he’s the only thing that matters. He’s all swirling black coat and thunderous expression, and anger and authority radiate off him like a scent, curling about his skin and person. The nurses give them no further grief, something he’s grateful for, and they’re directed to Newt’s room. They’re told that the Healers are doing everything they can for Newt, and they’ll be allowed to visit as soon as he’s in recovery. Tina, white faced and frightened and tense, has her hands gripped tightly in front of her and Percival’s knuckles are tightly curled into fists he wish he could sink in the walls before him. They speak nary a word between them; what is there to say really? I hope he doesn’t die? I’m sorry the man you love is going to die?

An hour ticks by, and Percival coaxes her to return to the office with instructions in his absence. She’s reluctant, and even though she can’t do anything to help, she thinks she should still be there, but Percival is firm, though kind, in his orders and she’s inwardly grateful too because she can’t imagine being the one waiting while the person she loves fights for their life. She leaves, and Percival is a lone figure sitting hunched over in the waiting room, waiting for a life that’s more precious than his.

He falls asleep at some point, and there are soft hands shaking him awake. There’s a Healer smiling gently at him, and the words “he’s all right” are far more beautiful than any poetry he’s read, or any prayer he’s heard. His feet carry him into the room Newt is in, and his red hair contrasts starkly with the white sheets he’s wrapped in, and there are cuts on his face and his arm is in a cast, but he’s alive. Percival sinks into the chair next to the bed, and taking Newt’s limp hand that’s so cold in his, kisses his skin and prays to whatever gods that are out there, that thank you for bringing him back to me, for giving me a little more time with him. Newt’s fingers give a twitch, and he’s not awake but Percival likes to think Newt’s aware of his presence, so he talks. His voice is low and barely audible, telling Newt everything he thinks about him, about how he thinks their relationship and Newt are the best things that have ever happened to him. He talks about everything and anything, and it’s ok if Newt doesn’t wake up now, because when he does, Percival will be the first thing he sees.


Visiting hours are nearly over, but Percival convinces the matron to let him stay on longer, and his back aches and he’s not eaten anything yet. Glancing at the still man, he stretches and decides to get some coffee and dinner. He lays the softest of kisses upon Newt’s forehead, and whispers, so very naturally he thinks nothing of it, the quiet, sacred words of “I love you”. He makes to leave the room, when a hand stops him, and he freezes. Percival turns to see a weakly smiling Newt who beckons him over for a kiss, and they savour the feeling of each other before they break apart, silly smiles on their faces. Newt frowns suddenly, and Percival is terrified because is he in pain? Does he need anything? What’s wrong? But there’s a small pout on Newt’s soft lips which placates him a little, and Newt whispers hoarsely, “Take it back.” There’s a moment where Percival thinks his heart stops because Newt just told him to take saying “I love you” back, and his eyes fall and his shoulders sag because telling Newt he loves him is a mistake.

Percival mumbles a quiet sorry and backs away, but Newt’s grasp on him is firm. He pulls the Auror close to him, and there’s but an inch that separates their faces. He cups Percival’s face with his hands, and his breath is soft and warm as he whispers, “I said take it back, because I was going to say it first.” And the laughter that escapes Percival is loud and joyous and when he steals a kiss from his love, it feels like the warm rays of sun after the clouds have parted, and for the first time ever, Percival isn’t afraid.


Here’s a kiss for your day to go well <3

Originally posted by acarima

anonymous asked:

Jonsa pink please!

Anonny, you won the lottery! Well, no, but you get a super long ass one-shot because I have 0 chill. Congratulations! Lol. I hope you enjoy it though, joking aside <3 


Ever since Sansa learned about soulmates, she’d been fantasising about the day she would meet hers and see the matching soul mark. She used to stay up, duvet pulled over her head, and draw images of herself with some unknown figure. Sometimes he’d be tall, sometimes he’d be short, but no matter who she imagined in the place of her soulmate, he would always be a knight and herself a princess in a tower. As she got older, her fantasies involved more daring feats with dragons he’d have to slay or evil witches he’d have to outsmart. It never mattered what stood in his way because he always overcame it. He was her soulmate after all. There was no doubt in her mind that he would be valiant, charming and honourable.

Like a prince, a young Sansa would muse to her mother, or anyone who would listen.

“He’ll have blonde hair,” Sansa decided when she was seven. She followed Robb out to the back garden. “All princes have blonde hair, right?” Her brother shrugged. “I bet he’ll be so handsome.”

“How do you know he’ll be handsome?” Robb finally asked after trying for some time to ignore her.

Sansa scoffed. “Of course he’s going to be handsome. He’s my soulmate.”

Her brother rolled his eyes, but it didn’t stop Sansa from believing it.

At twelve, Sansa was forced to reconsider everything she had ever thought about soulmates the moment she actually met her soulmate. She didn’t know it was him at first. There was no blinding flash of light as he stepped into the room; no singing angels in the background when he first said hello to her; and definitely no spark between them.

In fact, Jon Snow had become her least favourite friend of Robb’s within ten minutes of meeting him. He didn’t smile when he greeted her, he barely even looked at her, and then to make matters worse, he had the audacity to snort when she brought up the topic of soulmates.

What?” Sansa snapped, begrudgingly meeting Jon’s dull, boring grey eyes. “You don’t believe in soulmates or something?”

“No, they’re stupid,” he said, meeting her speculative gaze head on. Even though he was the quietest one of Robb’s friends, he had defiance in his stance, in the way his shoulders pulled back to make him appear taller than he was. She likened it to a cat bristling its tail.

Robb and Arya laughed loudly, which only angered her more, because they’ve both mocked her for her steadfast obsession with soulmates. Sansa placed her hands on her hips. “How can you say that? Soulmates are romantic!”

“It’s forcing two people to be together,” Jon said, not matching her anger with his own. He was practically impassive as he spoke to her. God, she wanted to hit him.

“It’s not forcing, it’s destiny!”

Jon chuckled, shrugging. “Same thing, isn’t it?”

When she finally realised he was her soulmate, it was some weeks later at the Starks’ annual summer barbecue. She was feeling particularly confident in her new pink and white striped bikini, proudly showing off the intricate lines of her soul mark at the base of her neck. The sun was high in the cloudless sky, a rarity for Scottish weather, and all of her friends were here. It was a perfect day.

But her good mood abruptly came to a halt when she walked past Robb and his group of friends and overheard their conversation.

“Dude, why do you have a tattoo of a snowflake on your chest?”

“That’s not a tattoo, you pillock, that’s a soul mark.”

“Oh. Wait, your soul mark is a snowflake? That’s a bit lame, isn’t it?”

“Fuck off, Theon.”

“What?” her brother shouted. “Your soul mark is a snowflake?”

At this point, Sansa’s heart was ramming painfully in her chest. She couldn’t believe it. After everything she had imagined about her soulmate, it had to be with someone who didn’t even believe in it? Jon wasn’t even blonde. He was lanky with muddy brown hair and boring grey eyes. That was the opposite of what princes looked like.

Before she could think about what she was doing, Sansa ran over to her brother and punched him hard in the shoulder to shut him up. “Robb,” she said breathily, feeling her panic rise and rise up her throat. “Mum needs you!”

He glared at her, groaning and rubbing his shoulder, but he knew. Out out of all of her siblings, Robb could read her the best and she didn’t need to say any more. He would even cut Jon out of his circle of friends if it was what she wanted, but what kind of person would she be if she let him do that? Sansa grabbed his forearm and nodded infinitesimally. Her brother sighed and walked off, despite probably knowing their mum hadn’t called for him at all.

Now alone with Robb’s friends, Sansa turned and found Jon staring at her with wide eyes. She flushed under his gaze. That was great; now he knew too. She pulled her bun loose and let her hair cover the soul mark as subtly as she could. Thankfully, Theon, Edd and Sam had already moved onto a new topic, but Jon was still staring resolutely at her, like he was trying to figure something out. Well, she didn’t need him to figure her out.

What?” she snapped, hoping the familiarity of being annoyed with him will ground her from the realisation that this stupid, gangly boy before her was her soulmate.

“I, uh… Nothing,” Jon mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

It surprised her to feel her neck tingle as if he was running his fingers along her soul mark there. She swallowed tightly and leveled a glare at him, one that she hoped he would be able to interpret as ‘do not tell anyone about this’, before stalking off.

On her fifteenth birthday, Sansa was completely over soulmates. She didn’t need some stupid mark to dictate who she’d end up with, not when there were boys like Joffrey Baratheon, who were blonde, charming and valiant. He made her feel special and loved; he was everything that Jon wasn’t and she had to admit that was kind of the appeal of him. Where Joffrey was talkative and outgoing, Jon only seemed to get broodier with age and more solemn. Didn’t he know that girls didn’t want to date someone like that? Least of all Sansa?

Well, at least the feeling was mutual. By the way that Jon actively avoided her, he was as determined as her to forget that they were soulmates. And maybe sometimes it stung a bit because he was such good friends with all of her family, but Sansa wasn’t going to let that get to her., She was not going to care or even spare a thought for him. Jon may share the same soul mark as her, but he was not her soulmate.

Maybe Joffrey could be.

“Have you seen my boyfriend?” Sansa asked Jeyne, still feeling a little thrill at being able to call him that.

“No, but check the kitchen. I heard him asking Margaery where the drinks were.”

“Okay, thanks,” she said, squeezing her best friend’s shoulder as she passed her by on the way to the kitchen.

The Starks’ kitchen was a beautiful work of art. Granite countertops, mahogany wood, and state-of-the-art appliances occupied the room. Her mum had slaved away for months and months designing it herself, and since she helped a little, Sansa was quite proud of it too. It had been fun to imagine cooking wonderful, mouth-watering dishes in a room she was helping create. Only in all of her imaginations, Sansa had never expected to see her boyfriend and her friend snogging up against the stainless steel refrigerator she picked out.

They were unaware of her presence and she wanted so desperately to scream and shout, but Sansa stood frozen in the doorway, one hand braced against the wooden frame, while the other fisted in her pale pink dress. In that moment, she wished she could borrow Arya’s ferocity for one second and punch Joffrey in the face, but Sansa wasn’t that girl. She had never been that girl. Instead, she was the type to stand dumbly by as she continued to watch her boyfriend kiss another girl.

The backdoor to the kitchen abruptly slammed open. Jon stood there with his fingers running through his rain-soaked hair, but he froze as soon as he caught sight of Joffrey and Margaery, and then Sansa. For a long second, no one did anything. Tense silence expanded to every nook and cranny, until without warning, everything was in motion. Jon slammed his fist into Joffrey’s nose, while Margaery screamed, jumping away. Joffrey tried to push back, but the lanky blonde had nothing on Jon’s superior strength. The boy wasn’t captain of the football team for nothing.

“Sansa, do something! He’s gonna kill him!” Margaery pleaded, tugging on Sansa’s dress.

She shrugged, finding her voice to be calm and steady when she felt so far from it. “Why should I care? He’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

When her ex-friend whimpered and pleaded some more, Sansa sighed and walked over to Jon to place a hand on his shoulder. He immediately stilled. He searched her face, watching her carefully – maybe to make sure she was okay or maybe to silently ask if she didn’t want to punch the tosser herself. Eventually, Jon stepped away, but he only moved so he could circle an arm around Sansa’s waist. She tried to ignore the shot of electricity that raced up her spine from the contact. Now was not the time to think on stupid things like that.

“C’mon, Sans, let’s get out of here,” he murmured to her. “Leave him.”

Sansa nodded, but before she allowed Jon to steer her away, she bent over so she was face to face with Joffrey. “Clean this up and then get out of my house. Take your new girlfriend with you, and if you ever try to talk to me again, I’ll tell my brother what happened tonight.”

The blonde paled. Jon may have stood up in her defence tonight, but Robb was the one all of the boys at school were frightened of. It wasn’t that her brother was stronger than Jon, he was simply far more reckless and far less inhibited in how he dealt with anyone who hurt his family. For once, she was glad for that reputation.

At seventeen, Sansa still didn’t believe in soulmates. After Joffrey, she met Harry, and when that ended in disaster too, she decided to stop believing in relationships altogether. They were messy and painful and not worth her time. The knights and princes of her past had been shattered by the reality that chivalrous and honourable boys did not exist.

Besides, her actual soulmate had gone off to university, and last she heard, Jon had a girlfriend, so clearly he was over it as well. Not that she cared but she couldn’t help wondering about his new girlfriend. In all the years Sansa had known Jon, he’s never really been with anyone, at least never seriously enough to call them his girlfriend. Sansa sincerely hoped she never had to meet her. It was an awful thing to think, and Jon could have as many girlfriends as he wanted, but she didn’t want to meet any of them.

The night before Christmas, Sansa was in the den by herself reading Wuthering Heights for her English A Levels. If she wasn’t going to have a real soulmate, then she was going to have a real job with real influence. She was going to be a teacher.

At a quarter to one in the morning, she heard the creak of a door open and someone attempting to walk silently through the house to the kitchen, which was just past the den. Sansa smiled to herself. “I didn’t realise Santa was a nineteen-year-old boy.”

Jesus, shit!” he exclaimed. There was a clatter of some kind of object falling to the ground, before he then appeared at the threshold, his dark curls all mussed up from sleep. “You scared the crap out of me, Sansa. What are you doing up?”

She raised her book towards him. “Reading.”

Jon nodded and then smirked. “Aren’t you a little old to be waiting up for Santa?”

“Aren’t you a little old to be dressed like one?” she asked, arching her brow and gesturing towards his Santa-printed pyjamas and full beard.

He flushed, pink colouring his cheeks and neck. It was sweet. “It was a gag gift from Theon, but it’s surprisingly soft.”

“And the beard?”

“Left over from Movember,” Jon said, shrugging. He walked over to sit on the opposite end of the sofa from her and grabbed her book despite her protests. “Please tell me you’re reading Wuthering Heights for school.”

She was, but she scoffed anyways. “What’s wrong with Wuthering Heights?”

“Everything’s wrong with it,” Jon said, bewildered. “It gives the complete wrong idea about soulmates; you know that, right? They were so bad for each other.”

Sansa giggled, and she nudged him with her fuzzy sock-clad foot. “I didn’t realise you were so passionate about Heathcliffe and Catherine’s relationship, Jon. What are your opinions on Elizabeth and Mr Darcy? How about Jane and Mr Rochester?”

“Oh, shut up,” he said, but he was smiling, so that was a win in her books. “I had to read it for school too, and all the girls in my class were mooning over Heathcliffe. It was scary. If that’s what people think soulmates should be like then…” He glanced at her and flushed again. “It’s just dumb.”

“Well, for once, I agree with you,” Sansa said, grabbing her book back. “But I think people like the idea of being passionately in love with someone. That’s why people want a soulmate. Being in love and being loved? That’s not a bad thing to want.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked gently, but Sansa was staring resolutely at the glass coffee table in front of her instead of at him.

She shrugged. “Maybe once, but not anymore. It’s not worth all the other stuff.”

“Hey,” Jon said, taking her hand in his. “Is it because of what Joffrey did? Because he’s a prick, you know? Not all guys cheat on their –”

“It’s not just him,” she interrupted, finally meeting his eyes. “It’s us too. We’re supposed to be soulmates, Jon, but it’s not exactly like we’re compatible…” She sighed, trying to feign nonchalance, even though this was the first time either of them had brought up their soul marks. “So I don’t know. I guess you were right. It’s all just pointless.”

He pulled his hand back, and for some reason, that hurt more than if he had just agreed with her and said she was the last person he’d ever want to date. He might as well have, she thought. It wasn’t as if she was clambering to date him or anything, but was she not even an option?

As the silence drew on, Sansa started to become more and more irritable. “If you’re not going to say anything then you should just go. I have a lot of reading left to do and –”

This time, it was Jon who interrupted her, and as his lips pressed insistently against hers, Sansa wound her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and closer, until he was lying flushed on top of her. It was everything and nothing like how she imagined her first kiss with her soulmate to be. There were no exploding fireworks; no instantaneous magical connection, but there was heat and lust and desperation. It was as if the longer they kissed, the more she needed him near. Her hand roamed through his hair, feeling the softness of his curls and tugging just to hear him moan against her lips. The sound sent a pool of desire to the pit of her stomach and Sansa shifted so she could tangle her legs in between his.

“Sansa,” he breathed against her neck. “We should stop.”

She murmured her acquiescence by nipping at his lower lip, to which he groaned and swiped his tongue along the hollow of her neck in retaliation. Sansa didn’t even try to hide the mewl of pleasure that that elicited out of her.

But just as Jon was beginning to kiss a trail across her collarbone, nosing away the loose jumper, something horrible occurred to Sansa and she shove him away with a hard push.

“Ow, what the hell?”

“You have a girlfriend!” she seethed. “How could you do that to her! How could you do that to me! I can’t –”

“We broke up in October, Sansa,” Jon interrupted, as he furrowed his brows.

Oh,” and just like that all of the indignation and anger whittled away, and soon she was pulling nim back to her, kissing him as desperately and heatedly as she was before.

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Plus-one (4)

Hello friends. For those who are just joining me in this journey of Finn & Rae, this is an cross-over of The Wedding Date and My Mad Fat Diary, where our golden boy Finn is an escort. The fic definitely veers off from the plot at some points, but I think it probably stays true to the story for the most part. (There is one line that I’ve taken from the movie, but I’ll point that out at the end) I’ve enjoyed writing this bit for sure and hope you enjoy it too! 

I want to thank everyone that has liked, reblogged and commented on this fic and all of my fics really. It’s such a delight to hear from you all and is much appreciated!!

Let me know what you think, please and thank you. xx

Tagging these wonderful humans - @towongfu2 @milllott @lau-vm @celestev31 @milymargot @jackiewalsh2013 @annemarieted @kneekeyta @kingbeeyonce @fuck-sewing-machine @irish-girl-84 @mmfdfanfic @mykuhkors @i-dream-of-emus @rhi3915 @lovinglifeandlivinglove @nutinanutshell @voodoomarie @rockinthebeastmode @mirandasmadeofstone @protectfinnnelson @hey1tskat1e @eveerez @workinggirl101 @likeashootingstarfades @raeonashadowcaster @arathewallflower @lilaviolet @bitchy-broken @bitchesbecrazy89 @thatfunnygirllauren @emmatationsforall


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