he knows that his eyes will tell her better than any words can... and that his words would be unnecessary

Blattella Germanica

Summary:  A quick fix it fic set in a nebulous future after 6.15 where Emma and Killian have been reunited. A way to reconcile the events of those episodes in a way that doesn’t retread old ground and helps better explain behavior. 

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1600+

Notes:  A belated gift for @gentlesleaze  hopefully this helps make up for some of the salt you received instead. I’m sure I’ll write you something better one day but I hope you like this blurb. 

On AO3


There was something to be said for reunion sex. Explosive tangles of lips and teeth and limbs. Aggressive clawing and slapping flesh, just all consuming need, I miss you, I love you, I’m so happy you’re back. Saying with her body what she couldn’t put into words, I’m sorry spoken in the rough tug of his hair, forgive me painted in teeth along his neck, I’m with you in the rough slide and rasp of skin on skin.

Afterwards was harder. Sweat drying and breath calming and the words wouldn’t come. Goodnight whispered into her hair, slow measured breaths as he gave into exhaustion. Her ring winking mockingly in the light of the moon through the window.

“I love you.”

Keep reading

Rules (JB)

For: Anonymous

Prompt:  JB as the beast and y/n as Belle.

Okay so I started this about four or five times with four or five different plot lines. And this probably isn’t exactly what you wanted but it’s what I ended up with. I hope you’re not too disappointed.

Other staff at the cleaning company you worked for had warned you.

“He’s moody.” They’d said.

“He’s anti-social.”

“He’s volatile.”

“He’s downright mean.”

After working for your new client for almost two weeks you  didn’t know why everyone had been so quick to speak badly of him. Okay, so he hadn’t said a lot to you since you’d started working for him. And yes, when you did cross paths he did tend to glower at you. And admittedly he had snapped at you once when all you’d done was pick up his mail and put it on the sideboard to stop people standing on it. But it had only been once and as he’d pointed out his mail was private correspondence and tidying it away wasn’t on your job list. Overall though working for Mr Im was like working for anyone else, you just had a few more rules to follow. Such as:

‘Don’t pick up the mail.’

‘Only was the clothes in the downstairs laundry basket, not the upstairs laundry basket.’ Since you hadn’t come across one pair of boxers or briefs while doing laundry you were assuming that was what was kept in the upstairs basket. If so the fact he didn’t want you to see his underwear was kind of cute. If not then it meant he preferred to go commando which probably wasn’t something you should be thinking about. The avenues your brain went down when you did were inappropriate to say the least.

And the most important rule. ‘Never enter the room opposite the study.’ He’d told you this one at least three times.

This rule baffled you slightly. You were allowed into his bedroom to make the bed, you were allowed into his bathroom to clean and into his study to dust. Those were surely the three most personal spaces in a person’s home. So you had no idea what he could be keeping in his spare room that was so private that he didn’t want to let you in there to clean.

As someone who watched far too many crime dramas your mind had strayed to some very dark places. Was he hiding shrines to the people he’d stalked and killed? A torture chamber? Freezers full of body parts?

As someone who watched far too many Disney movies your mind had strayed to some less dark but more ridiculous places. Did he have a sister who was scared of her own magical powers and was hiding away from the world? Was it a doorway to another dimension like in Monsters, Inc? Had a witch cursed him to be an anti-social recluse until the day he died unless he found love before all the petals wilted from a magical rose and that was the room he kept it in?

Okay, maybe comparing him to the Beast from Beauty and the Beast was a little harsh. You couldn’t expect everyone to like you.

And you managed to stay out of that room and out of trouble for another two weeks. And then came the day that the electrician knocked on the door. He’d come to look at the lights in the kitchen which had been flickering even though Mr Im had changed the bulbs twice. You’d told him you thought it might be mice, they’d chewed wires in your grandparents’ house and the same thing had happened there but he’d just grunted and carried on down the hallway to his study. And then apparently he’d called an electrician. Now, you were allowed to answer the door and sign for packages as long as you didn’t touch the said packages but you weren’t allowed to let workmen into the house without getting Mr Im’s go ahead first, even if they had ID, that was clearly stated on your rules list. So you’d asked the electrician to wait and had gone back into the house to find him.

Being loud inside was something else that was forbidden, ‘Work quietly and don’t make unnecessary noise’ being rule number seven on your list so rather than shout for him you’d gone door to door, knocking on each door and then pushing it open slightly so you could check he wasn’t just ignoring you, as he was wont to do. Ignoring you was something he was good at. And without thinking you were soon knocking on the door to the spare room and pushing that open too.

And you were met with a room lined with bookcases. Okay, so that had not been what you were expecting when he’d told you to keep out. Unless they were filled with books he’d be embarrassed at you finding him reading. But no, they were just books you’d find on anyone’s bookshelves you realised as you stepped further into the room and started scanning the titles. Some were fiction, some were non-fiction. There were fantasy novels, crime novels, some classic works. Reading was something of a passion of yours and you soon found yourself running your fingers over the spines of the books, trying to decide which one to pick up first. And then you remembered you weren’t in a library or a bookshop, you were somewhere you shouldn’t be and you pulled your hand back quickly and began backing out of the room. Only to bump into something solid.

As you turned, surprised, you realised that the something solid was Im Jaebum. Your client and employer Im Jaebum who had warned you never to step foot into this particular room. And he looked furious.

“Um… I was…” you started to say but the look on his face made you stop. He looked hurt as well as angry.

And the yelling you’d been expecting since you’d turned to see him there never came. There was a beat of silence as he continued to frown down at you and then he said the words “I thought I could trust you.”

He said them ever so calmly and ever so quietly but they still hit you like a slap in the face, and the thing was you weren’t even sure why. It wasn’t like you were that close. But nonetheless you found yourself stumbling over your words as you tried to explain yourself. “You can I just… you weren’t in your room, or the study… and there’s a man at the door… an electrician and…”

“Electrician…” he repeated.

“I didn’t want to let him in without asking you first.” You explained.

“Right.” He said, not looking any happier. And with that he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

For a second all you could do was stand there, rooted to the spot. You’d expected him to blow up at you, yell at you and tell you that you were fired. Maybe he still would.  You hadn’t expected was for him to look so sad, so disappointed. You found yourself hurrying after him.

You caught up to him just before he made it to the front door and you grabbed his arm. Okay, so the electrician had been waiting for a while but he could wait a little longer. This was important.

“Look,” you said as he stopped and turned, a look of confusion on his face, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Honestly, I wasn’t thinking when I opened that door, I was so focussed on finding you. And then I saw all the books and I know it sounds silly but I just couldn’t help myself, it was like they were drawing me in and before I knew it I was in the middle of the room and…”

“I like books.” He said, cutting you off, his eyes taking on a faraway look. “But she loved them. If I came home and couldn’t find her that’s where she’d be.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. In the month you’d worked for him the only emotion Mr Im had ever shown was mild annoyance. And now he was standing in front of you, shoulders slumped, a real vulnerability in his eyes and in his voice and you had no idea what to do. “I’m sorry.” You said again. You desperately wanted to know who this ‘she’ was and why she wasn’t around, how she’d hurt him so badly but you didn’t want to push him. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s not…” he started to say but he was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. He straightened up, the mask of indifference he’d worn since you’d met him slipping back into place. “I’d better let him in.” he said.

“I don’t know if it’s something you’re ready to talk about yet…” you said to his retreating back, “… but if you ever decide it is, then I’m here.” You told him. “I’d listen.” Saying so was a risk, you knew that. There was still every chance that he was going to fire you. You’d broken rule number one after all. But the look on his face when he’d mentioned her… whoever she was… he’d looked heartbroken.

Mr Im paused for a second, his back still to you. “I’ll think about it.” He said quietly. And then he stepped forward to open the door.

I’ll think about it…

Maybe you weren’t going to be fired after all. But more importantly than that maybe he would. Maybe he would think about it and maybe he would talk to you. You hoped so. You couldn’t help thinking it would do him good.

Just Us- Part 1

Yoongi-Centric *.*

*Word Count* 4,178
*Genre* Angst, Parenting, Happy
*Pairing* None


“Daddy, where’s mommy?”

What the hell was he supposed to say?

Mommy left because daddy couldn’t treat her right, it’s actually daddy’s fault for yelling in mommy’s face and telling her to get the fuck out and leave if she wanted to.


He couldn’t say that.

He didn’t want to risk his daughter hating him too.

See things were perfectly fine 4 hours ago.

He was working of course. working on a new song that he needed- no wanted to finish by tonight. His phone turned off so he wouldn’t be disturbed, he didn’t need any distractions while he was working anyway, if he wanted to get this finished he needed to be concentrated and isolated. He’d been sitting in the same spot since practice ended, which was about 6 hours ago, to say he wasn’t exhausted would be a lie, he was in fact beyond exhausted.

Yet even as tired as he was he was still determined to get his work done, get it over with, then he could move onto the next thing.

And by next thing, he means more work.

His original plans were to finish the song he was working on now then start working on another song he wanted to get halfway finished by tonight also. If he got halfway through the next song then he would be able to finish the entire thing the next day, then work on another song.

Of course, it doesn’t only take a day or two to finish an entire goddamn song that could probably be the next hit, or in their album if it gets accepted. It, in fact, takes days, weeks, months, years. 

Took him years to finally release his mixtape, it could take him years to finish the song he was working on now, but you never know. Yet again he’s determined he knows exactly what words he wants to put in this song, he knows that the beat he created fits well perfectly with this song. He knows it so well to be positively sure he can finish this entire thing by tonight.

As focused as he was, his mind still kept drifting off to unnecessary things when he couldn’t come up with anything, it’s like as soon he went off track, or moved his eyes elsewhere besides his computer screen his mind would think about something else. He didn’t even know what that something else was seeing as the thought left as fast as it came. He couldn’t just simply put words into a song, he wanted his words to have meaning, he wanted the fans he cared so dear for to feel how grateful he was towards them. 

The Fans, no Army, was just 1 of the things he always had on his mind 24/7, the feeling of not wanting to disappoint lingering in each members hearts. He wasn’t planning on letting them down, after everything they’ve done for him and his team. 

For those, he can’t see, for those he can’t remember, for those he can’t personally be close to. He wants them to hear him, to feel how he feels, to speak and have a connection with him through his music. To share something he loves so very much with people that continue to cheer him on, even tho he doesn’t know them(Personally)it means a lot to him. That’s one reason he works so hard.

Another reason he works so damn hard is not only I himself and the fans, but also for his team. Believe it not he believes not everything is about the fans, nor even himself when it comes to music. He thinks about his members to, their dreams too. Jungkook and Taehyung’s love for singing, Jimin and Hoseok’s love for dancing, his leaders love for rapping, and his Hyung’s love for singing also. Not only he but his members enjoy the thrill, the thrill of being on stage, the beating in their hearts louder than the fans screams that proceed to make they go deaf, the sweat trailing from his forehead all the way down to his chin and the music, the music that they enjoy making. For them is also another reason.

Out of sheer anger and hatred, he also works hard because he wants to prove the people that said they couldn’t do it wrong. Wants to tell them that they made it, and there going higher, higher than the very top. Wants to grab their success like a pile of dirt and throw it right in their face, like little children bullying another child. Even tho he’s angry and his hate burns strong somewhere deep inside of him, he’s better than that, and if he ever sees those people again, the ones who looked down on him and his team, he’ll just simply wave and smile. The reason for that is because he’s at the top, and there at the bottom, he could just simply crush them, with the lift of his foot, stomping on them like they were just merely bugs. But he won’t, because again he’s better than that, he’s already successful, but his hatred doesn't just fade away.

The last and 1 of the most important reasons, is because of his child.

His daughter.

His daughter’s existence was in fact known among his fans, his entire relationship was known throughout the country. 

He can still remember the day the media found out, sitting in the living room with his fellow roommates, eating the breakfast Jin had cooked which was always a bit too salty for his liking. His daughter only 3 mouths old in Taehyung’s lap playing with her little fingers, he can still remember the squeaky sound that erupted out of his daughter’s mouth made as he played with her while he simply watched the news. Then there it was. 

“Big News: Rapper Min Yoongi, Also known as Suga from k-pop group called BTS debuting under BigHit Entertainment, only 3 years into his career and he has already been confirmed to be in a relationship with someone and not only that he was caught seen by a fan who took pictures of him and saw him with not only his girlfriend but with a baby! Is this baby his? The fan eventually uploaded the photo on twitter and now fans are demanding answers!  What is Min yoongi hiding! More news on-“ 

His brain could only think about the words that had been said, he can remember how much panic he felt, for himself and for his group, Minhee to. The assuring words they whispered to one another after the news had been shared. The love and fondness, he loved her so much to think how far apart they are now, break his heart a little. 

He and his partner, Minhee at the time, were not married, fortunately, it’s not that he didn’t love her but he just wasn’t ready for marriage, but his dumbass should’ve thought about that before getting her pregnant. Her parents, of course, wanted them to get married, but he and his parents politely refused (It was mostly him, he was rude about it to be honest but he hates her fucking parents), leaving her father frustrated and angry. In all honesty, he could care less about how her father feels, her father claims yoongi’s always been out for all the money that his daughter has, which is so completely untrue and useless he always just drops the subject. He still loves her somewhat, and still takes care of his child but music……his music. He doesn’t want to blame everything on his job but, music is one of the reasons why he and Minhee split up, and because he was supposedly more focused on the fans and work that he didn’t have any time for her, is what she said.

His daughter stays with him and the other boys only on the weekends, he only keeps her for 3 days and unfortunately on some of those days he has to work, which means sometimes she has to sit on the hard wooden floor that’s located in their practice room and watch them dance. Other times she has to sit backstage as they do interviews or on stage performances,  she even has to sit in his studio and watch him type aimlessly on his keyboard. Sometimes he feels bad for her, they only have small conversations when he’s working, but when he’s not he focuses all his attention solely on his daughter. 

But today, things just aren’t going his way. 

His pale fingers went limp on his keyboard, his head snapping towards the door when knocks were heard. He took a deep breath and sighed, relaxing his body, he really didn’t want to be bothered right now, all he was trying to focus on doing was finishing his work. Who could be knocking on his studio door at this time anyway, didn’t the others leave?

“Who is it?”

He felt the words leave his mouth before he could even process he had said them himself. 

With his words, someone opened the door just enough to pop their head in, that head belonging to Jimin. He watched as Jimin slowly opened the door and made his way inside, the light from the hallway brightening up the dark room more than his dim computer screen did so. He wasn’t really curious as to why Jimin was still here, the kid was probably practicing, he just wondered why he didn’t notice him here before.

“What do you want?” He heard himself say

Jimin only smiled shutting the door behind him, yoongi heard the soft click of the door and watched as Jimin lazily leaned against it “It’s nice to see you to hyung" 

Frustration and Irritation are all he felt in this moment. He really didn’t have time for games, not to mention he couldn’t quite come up with anything. In his head, he was so fucking sure he knew exactly what he wanted to do, but being interrupted made all his thoughts fly away. He’s blaming jimin for this. Jimin was basically wasting his time and he needs every second he could get, if Jimin wanted to tell him something, he better hurry up because he can feel himself running out of patience. He wondered if his expression showed how frustrated he was because Jimin quickly lifted himself off the door and stood straight.

“Have you been here since practice ended?” He only nodded, moving his mouse upwards watching on the computer screen as the pointer appeared again from hiding. “I’ve been here the entire time, didn’t you know?” He found himself asking a question, which was taking up more time, the time that he oh so very much needed. Jimin raised his hands up in front of him and shook them along with his head, taking a seat on one of the beanbags next to his chair. “Ani, I’ve been here since practice ended too, but since I didn’t see the guys leave I thought you were with them" 

"Right.” He said squinting his eyes when his computer screen popped up something about a software update, it’s been asking him about an update for months now, it’s not like he didn’t want to update his software, believe me, he would love to get rid of this annoying pop up that seems to even pop up when he’s working. It’s just that he’s afraid that if he updates, then everything will be gone, all his files all his music, it’s happened before too.

Jimin only sat still, quiet with his hands fidgeting in his lap. Yoongi didn’t mind him being in here, but he’d really wish Jimin would stop tapping his foot and biting his nails, and of course the fidgeting is what he hates most. It’s obvious he has something to say. So he decides to just get this over with.

He closes his eyes, let’s out a big breath he didn’t even know he was holding in and turns his computer off. Turning his computer off means he’s done, done for the night anyway, he still has so much work he has to do, he’s not even finished with the first song to move onto the next one. He just shrugs to himself, he guesses that’s just more work for him tomorrow then he had originally planned, oh well he doesn’t care. 

He says this now but in fact, he does care, just thinking about how much work he’s gonna have to do tomorrow, he tries not to get stressed out at the thought.

He spins himself around in his chair and faces Jimin, who’s currently staring at him in confusion.

“What are-”

“Cut the crap, what do you want Jimin" 

Yawning, he puts his entangled fingers behind his head. Jimin only hangs his head down, and for some reason, Yoongi gets the feeling that whatever Jimin’s about to say can’t be very important.

"Hyung……Minhee, she, she called me…" 

Yoongi only rolls his eyes, he’s happy he turned his phone off, he didn’t want to hear from anyone when he was working, if he would’ve heard from her he’d be pissed. Pissed only because she would of most likely started an argument about something completely unnecessary. The love he has for that woman has been slowly fading ever since they called quits on their relationship. 

That was when Nari, his daughter was 2 she’s 5 now.

Even if he’s thinking a lot about the situation his only comment to Jimin’s sudden confession is "What the hell does she want?”

Jimin smiles sadly at his words. “She wanted to know when we were coming home…” Yoongi moved his hands from behind his head letting his left arm fall down on the arm of the chair and using his other arm to combed his fingers through his bright blonde hair. “What does she mean? ‘when are you coming home’ is she at our house?” If she was at their house he would be extremely angry it’s not even Friday so she has no reason to be there, if his daughter isn’t there then he could care less about anything she has to say. He immediately felt his blood boil and rise up to his face. 

“Call her and tell her she needs to leave”  

The look on Jimin’s face showed nothing but pure panic, the venom in Yoongi’s voice was no joke.

“Ah, hyung you shouldn’t-" 

"Fine I’ll do it” He shut jimin up real quick, grabbing his phone and roughly pressing each number, he was clearly angry he could still be working right now instead of dealing with something so unnecessary. As soon as he had dialed the number she had immediately picked up the phone, saying hello and waiting for his reply. 

“Why are you at my house?” He tried to say as nicely as he could, but trying to pretend you’re not angry is hard for him, so he’s pretty sure she heard how irritated he was.

She huffed on the other side of the phone and he’s positive she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t get an attitude with me, I’m not happy to be here either.”

“Good, then you should leave”

“Believe me I wish I could, I’ve been here for hours waiting for you”

“No one said you had to wait for me.”


“You’re wasting my time, what do you want?”

For a few seconds, all he heard was silence, she coughed a little and made him wait a little longer before answering his question. “It’s Nari…..” Instead of leaning back in his chair he quickly rose up from his seat moving things out the way rather roughly on his desk his hands searching for his car keys. With no luck finding the keys on his desk he patted his body with both hands up and down holding his phone between his head and his shoulder until he found the keys. He was ready to leave if there was anything wrong. His anger quickly turned into concern, Jimin not having any clue what’s going on just left the studio but he assumed Jimin was getting his stuff. 

“What happened? Is she okay?”

“I’ll tell you when you get here…”

“No, tell me-" 

The call had ended before he could even finish his sentence "Motherf-” he decided not to let the word completely slip his mouth and breathed out instead, hurriedly putting his phone in his back pocket, rushing to leave he almost tripped as his foot hit the orange beanbag jimin has sat on just a few minutes ago, quickly catching himself he was happy when he found Jimin already ready to go with his bags as soon as he stepped out the room of his studio, without explaining he motioned jimin to follow him out to his car.

The ride home was quiet jimin didn’t ask any questions because he had felt how tense Yoongi was and he didn’t want to make any false accusations and make him tenser. Yoongi even cut on the radio and actually let a very stupid song play just to distract him from his thoughts. It didn’t help much.

Once they had reached home, he had quickly stepped out of his old car and made his way to the doorstep nervously fumbling with his keys, he was in fact so nervous that he even dropped them, twice.

“Hyung maybe I should do it-”

“I got it!" 

Jimin had jumped in surprise at his tone, he hadn’t meant to yell at him he really hadn’t he was just so..he didn’t even know what he was talking about, he rarely ever yelled in the first place he even found his throat hurting a little. He would’ve said sorry for scaring jimin, but a moment after he had shouted the door opened.

Revealing Jin.

"Your home-”

“Where is she?" 

Passing Jin her started to look around the house for his daughter, he headed straight to his and Jins bedroom first, the door being shut, he attempted to open it but Jin stopped him.

"Wait, she’s sleeping”

“I won’t wake her” He said coldly glaring as he looked back at him, he tried to open the door, but he was again stopped, not by jin.

By Minhee.

“Fancy seeing you here”

She said smiling her voice even till this day still music to his ears, quickly taking in her appearance she still looked the same, like the same woman he had fallen in love with, but he and her both knew she was long gone, somewhere far away, probably dead. He didn’t know, but he missed her.

His face hardens doing the opposite of what his thoughts are hinting him to do.

“Oh really?”

Her smile drops hearing the sarcasm in his voice, not like any of her smiles are real anymore.

“Well this is my house” He finishes 

“Whatever…” She mumbles quietly crossing her arms, over her chest. Here she goes again wasting time and not getting straight to the point.

“What’s wrong with Nari?”

“I lied”


"I said I lied okay…”

“What?” He says again but mostly to himself not sure he had heard her completely. “You lied, lied about what?” he continues. She looks down at her hands, and from anyone’s point of view it would seem that she’s feeling guilty for whatever she lied about, but he’s not falling for it, he knows her too well to fall stupid to her tricks.

He’s not buying it.

“Stop fucking wasting time and tell me what’s going on” he snaps

She doesn’t jump only looks at him sternly.

“I lied about Nari, she’s perfectly fine..”

Finally letting go of the door handle he’s been holding onto since he got home, he walks up towards her slowly. “Then why the fuck-" 

"I wanted to talk to you..”

He can’t believe this, he literally can’t.  "You called and made me come all the way fucking home just so you could tell me something? Couldn’t you have said it over the phone? it couldn’t have waited? I was fucking working-“

"It’s important yoongi-”

“So important to the point where you had to lie and bring our daughter into this?” he accused his voice raising just a bit, he could see jin behind him and jimin to his left, them both wanting to do something to stop the argument, he could tell they wanted to, but they dared not to.

“Yes, that important!”


“If I had asked to speak to you in person would you have come?”

“Like hell, i would”

“That’s why I brought up Nari, because I knew you would listen if she was involved, this is important yoongi so how about you listen to me for once in your fucking life!” she said yelling at him his face only inches away from hers now. He stepped back at her sudden outburst putting distance between them rolling his eyes.

“Fine,” his voice still cold even though he agreed to talk.

“Hurry up, I don’t have all night”

Jin reached out grabbed Jimin’s wrist and walking out to the room giving them both a small smile before completely exiting leaving them both standing alone in the silence. 

“I met someone..”

He rolls his eyes, this is so stupid. He moves his hand to his back pocket, hoping to find his cigarettes there, but they aren’t he hasn’t smoked since high school but he had a sudden urge to start again.

Letting the thought leave his mind he focused on the situation again.

“So? what does that have to do with me?”

She lets out a breath and sits down on the only couch in their house, she waits to speak and again he think’s she’s only wasting more time. He’s getting tired, not like he wasn’t tired before, like he said he was beyond exhausted but he had something to keep him focused something he was determined to finish. 

But this, this was just boring and utterly useless, he couldn’t even bring himself to really care.

“I’ll be in America for at least 3 months, with him….” she whispers afraid if her words might start something.

They do.

“How about you fucking stay there forever?”

“That’s not what I’m say-”

“Stop with the bullshit! just fucking leave! that’s obviously what you’re saying right?”

She stands up angrily standing right in front of him, her fist balled up to her side.

“No, yoongi you know that’s not what I meant!”

“It obviously is, you wanna leave, just fucking do it! Please, fucking leave! We’ll be perfectly fine without you, so go up there with whoever the fuck this guy is and don’t come back! we don’t need you-”

He hears it before he feels it, the pain stinging the left side of his cheek.

He was shocked but he didn’t show it on his face, she had never hit him, even when they were together. He would be lying if the tears in her eyes didn’t make his heart ache a little, but no she brought this on herself.

“Why are you so selfish yoongi….why do you only think about yourself, you don’t give a damn about how others feel.”

He listens to her words carefully, but he doesn’t even try to compare himself with her words. 

He smirks.

“Your right, I don’t give a fuck, now fucking leave never comes back.”

His cold words pierce her, and he can see it to them way her eyes widen slightly and the tears in her eyes threaten to fall, but before they can she quickly grabs her purse and hurriedly rushes to the door.


He just stands there. In the silence, his body oddly cold even tho the house is warm. 

She’s joking. 

She’ll come back, right?

He didn’t even mean what he said, he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean to say any of that, but his brain spoke instead of his heart. Like it usually does.

He sighs making his way to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it up half way with foist water. God, he was such an idiot, he should’ve kept his mouth shut, and usually that’s not even a goddamn problem for him. But as soon as he says her face, heard her voice, he doesn’t know why but he just got so angry, even the thought of her made him angry.

He throws the glass cup in the sink, ignoring the loud clanking sounds it made, walking back into the living room him and Minhee stood in just a few minutes ago, and he lays himself down on the only coach they have. Staring at the TV, staring at nothing but the black screen it displayed.

He just wanted to sleep, sleep his stress away. Minhee would be back tomorrow he knows she will, she wasn’t really gonna leave.

Everything would be perfectly fine tomorrow.

7 am is the last thing he see’s before his eyes close, leaving him in nothing but darkness.


I’m Done! Tell Me What You Guys Think Okay? If I Get A Good Response Maybe I’ll Post A Second Part! *.*


Second day of waning gibbous of the twelfth month. Winter.

Dear Diary,

This weekend has been quite lively. Despite being on the early days of the coldest season, I woke up to the weekend quite toasty, comfortable, and very not in my bed.

You see, Link and I met again in my room after the talk we had. We had tea by the fireplace, he told me about the avalanche and how he survived using Nayru’s Love. He was quite scant on details, but I think he just wants to move on. I cannot keep thinking if it was not for such a fortuitous fact, he would be dead. I must thank the Goddesses again for their constant protection of him.

I tried to teach him another spell, but we certainly got diverted because of two reasons: one was that when we resonated our triforces, we saw each other’s thoughts.

And boy, I had no idea how I made him feel. Some of his thoughts and sensations were quite arousing - we made out on the carpet until we were too short of breath to go on; actually it was more due to prudence than lack of desire. Which takes me to disclose the second reason, which is…

That later, the very same night, I went to his room and gave myself to him.

It was amazing; tender and rough at the same time. The sensations are quite hard to put into words, but in short being intimate is pure, untamed bliss.

I was woken at dawn, with strands of dirty blond hair tickling my nose, and soft kisses all over my face.

‘Love, wakey wakey’. His voice whispered tenderly in my ear. I felt fingertips caressing my cheek. 'I gotta leave to train’.

His gaze was one of pure, inmense love.

I slowly sat on the bed, realizing he was sitting there fully clothed, light armor and all. I was still naked.

'I didn’t have the heart to wake you up before’, he handed me my nightdress. ‘go back to your bed before one of your maids or Impaz arrives, love’.

The idea of being caught in the act, especially by Impaz, ended to wake me up. I quickly slipped my nightie over my head and got up, heading straight to the mirror door.

‘You forget something, milady’. I was about to open the door, when a pair of knickers - mine- flashed in front of my eyes. ‘This ain’t the kind of loot I’m used to, but I can get a likin’ to it’.

‘Cheeky’. I snatched them out of his hand, my face incandescently red as an ember.

‘And this’, he turned me, and kissed me goodbye.

I crossed immediately to my chamber, put on my knickers, and dunked in my bed to do what I have not done in the last hours: think about what I have done.

The only thing I could conclude was: nothing, actually.

So, to avoid having an unnecessary breakdown, I decided to go with the natural flow of things, at least for this weekend.

I called for Impaz earlier than usual, since it was useless to stay in bed any longer. She obviously noticed my lack of sleep.

‘Something on that restless mind of yours, dearest?’, she asked, pouring down some tea for the both of us. ‘You know you can trust me’.

‘I… confessed my feelings to Link’. I sighed, and sipped my tea. ‘my love is certainly returned’.

‘That’s marvelous, dear child!’, she was rejoiced, ‘being loved is a beautiful thing, and by such a good man!’

‘I laid with him last night, also’.

‘And you think this old lady is dumb’.

My jaw dropped.

She remained silent for a moment and looked at me.

‘You have the rosy cheeks and glow only someone who has been thoroughly laid can have’. She sipped her tea. ‘You are a grown woman, and also the ruler of this country. No one should ever even dare to judge you for what you do with your personal life’.

Her reassurance made me feel better. I smiled widely.

‘That’s my girl’, she patted my hand. ‘Now I have to ask you, is your love the real thing?’

‘What do you mean?’, I enquired.

‘Love is not just the “happily ever after” feeling’, she cleared, ‘It’s a conscious commitment to accept a person just as they are. You have burdens and duties not everyone is ready to face, so does Link. Not all days will be a bed of roses, nor you will be able to be always together. You will see the best and worst of each other’. She paused. ‘Life will change both of you. In short, is he the one you want as your consort?’

I stayed thoughtful. Her words are really important. I know what I feel for him is real. I am quite sure his are real too. He has done a really good job with the Army so far, but does he have what it takes to be… my husband?

‘Absolutely’, I realized, ‘I need to talk to him about this; I think it is mandatory to tell him from the start what are the challenges he will have to face if he agrees to be proclaimed my betrothed, but I think we can discuss that matter later. For this weekend, at least, I want to take things slowly’.

I took a deep sigh after that statement.

‘Oh, my!’, Impaz laughed at me. 'You have been fully lovestruck, dearest!’

I just wanted to hide my blushed face.

'He is training now. Is it bad that I want to go to see him?’, I asked, feeling already somewhat ridiculous for even saying those words.

‘If you want to go, then go!’, Impaz cheered, ‘I’ll help you get dressed’.

With a not so elaborate, but warm dress, boots and cloak, I headed to the training grounds.

What I did not expect was to find Link surrounded by his trainees. The soldiers froze and immediately bowed as I approached their Commander. His eyes widened at every step closer.

‘Good morning, Lord Commander’, I greeted him, controlling myself to not turn red, ‘How do you fare this cold morning?’

‘Good morning, my Queen, I fare more than well today’. He grinned and made a small curtsy. Cheeky. 'What a lovely surprise to have you visit us’.

'I thought it might be interesting to spectate your work with the trainees’  - a huge stray from the actual truth - ‘since I saw you on the early days of the process’, I commented. 'To oversee your improvements is certainly a part of my job’.

Link’s smirk read “worst liar ever”.

‘The Queen has amazing marksmanship skills’, he noted, ‘I wondered if you could show all of us here’.

He handed me a bow and three arrows, which all struck center on the aims. The rookies were impressed - some people still have the impression I am some sort of frail creature.

‘I shall not interrupt you more’, I retired, Link accompanying me to the exit. ‘Have a good day’.

Out of sight, we could leave our charade.

‘I thought you trained alone today’, I explained, ‘It seems I was wrong’.

‘I did! They just started joinin’ me outta the blue’, he shrugged. ‘It’s been like that for a while’.

‘That is a consequence of good leadership, dear’. He blushed. ‘I just wanted to ask you to have lunch with me, and maybe, if the weather allows it, go out for a stroll’.

‘Like a date?’, he asked, looking flattered by my proposal. ‘I’ve never been on a date before’.

‘It is alright, I have never been to one either’.

As we smiled discreetly to each other, he kissed my hand and went back to his labor.

I rushed to my room, meeting Ashei on my way back. I just waved, and I could swear she greeted me “hey, Mysterious Lady Z” as she waved back.

I put on some lighter dress to be more comfortable - and pretty. I have never been vain, but I have been more worried about my outward appearance than before.

A cart with the food arrived some time before my guest, who came straight from the training grounds, apologizing for his apparent delay.

We ate in silence the sweet potato and pumpkin soup we had for lunch, stealing glances from each other, giggling when our eyes met, like silly kids with a crush on each other. It did not feel awkward, just as if we were sharing a little secret without words.

‘You like me’, he started, in a singsong voice, putting our empty plates aside on the cart, ‘you wanna marry me and have my babies’.

I felt myself flushing from my toes to my head. ‘What is your age, again?’

He chuckled, leaning on the table, resting his chin on his crossed forearms.

‘In all honesty, love, I do want the whole thing’, he admitted. ‘To wake up every day with you by my side, some kids, a bunch of pets, y’know, the real deal. I wanted to ask Auru ‘bout the whole “may I have permission to date you” protocol at the beginning of the next week’.

A warm feeling spread from my chest. 

‘Impaz asked me something on the same page this morning when I told her what happened between us’, I revealed him.

‘How much does she know?, Link’s eyes widened as he asked.

‘Everything’, I confessed, ‘I cannot lie to her!’

‘That’s why she told me “I was radiant” when I met her before I came here!’, he realized. ‘Darn, she’s sassier than Elder Nabooru!’

After a good laugh, I addressed the subject of the strange nickname Ashei called me when I passed by her. He told me a story about the trainees finding out Link loved someone during the training at Snowpeak, but not realizing this Mysterious Lady Z was actually me. I think more than one of them tied the knots correctly after my impromptu visit.

I find the nickname rather amusing. It is like the name of the heroine of an adventure novel.

The snowfall was quite intense during the afternoon, so we stayed talking by the fireplace, lying on the rug, asking each other things we did not know about each other.

'Cats or dogs?’, he started.

'Both, except for the lapdogs of the court ladies, they are scary… one bit me when I was little’, I disclosed. 'I know from a trusted source you are mainly a cat person’.

'True’, he chuckled, 'Next one. A funny childhood memory’.

'My father had a portrait of me made the day before I turned thirteen’, I narrated. 'I had to sit for the painter for hours while the girls of the court made funny faces’.

'Does that painting still exist?’, Link asked. 'I’d love to see your baby face’.

'It does! It is on the Royal Family Hall. We can go if you are curious’.

In some minutes, we were looking at the faces of the kings and queens of yore. Link’s attention was caught by the portrait of a very familiar face to me.

‘She’s the Princess of Destiny, the Zelda before me’, I explained to him.

‘Her eyes are so sad’, he observed.

‘It is said the portrait was painted around the time she was about to be crowned’, I added, ‘we both know the story, and how that ended’.

‘At least it’s gonna be a different story for us’. he held my hand. ‘C’mon, show me your painting’.

A couple of portraits later, after the one of my parents, was the one depicting my twelve-year-old self. Link observed it carefully, eyes wandering to the image of my parents from time to time.

‘You were so cute with your flower crown! Look at your lovely chubby cheeks!’, he commented, eyes still on the painting, ‘You look a lot like your mom, with the dark hair and fair skin. Your eyes are like your dad’s though’.

‘Thanks for the compliment’, I noted, ‘But being on the rounder side and a bookworm was not a good thing in the eyes of the court girls; some of them were quite mean. Fortunately, puberty was kind to me’.

Kind?’, he laughed. ‘You went from cutie pie to heavenly creature. Don’t kid me, woman. I’ve seen ya naked’.

‘Anyway’, I sighed, ‘we are going to commission my official portrait soon. I’ll have to sit still and stay pretty for some hours’.

'I wanna be there and do my job!’

'You want to pose with me as my champion?’

'Nope, Imma gonna tease you! Maybe I’ll give you smoldering looks’ - he gives me this ridiculous fake suave look- ‘until you turn like a red carnation in full bloom’.

I did not know if to kiss him, laugh, or throw him in the dungeon. Silly pumpkin.

'Don’t give me that look’, he pleaded, 'consider that I’ve pined for you for a long time, and now I have you all for myself, and I feel I can be as silly and cheeky as I want with you’.

You cannot fight those kinds of arguments, especially when he involuntarily makes puppy eyes.

After looking at some other paintings, we went back to my room. There was a cart with food and a note.


I told people you felt indisposed and didn’t want to be bothered until tomorrow noon.

It’s not the first time a sheikah has to cover for her liege, so don’t worry and have fun.



The message made me smile. I am so grateful for her.

‘We can do as we please for the rest of the day… and night’, I informed him.

Link’s eyes lit up at my words.

‘We can sleep together again! Or keep chatting in front of the fireplace ‘till we fall doze off!, he enthusiastically proposed.

‘As you wish’, I told him, ‘I am good with all of your ideas’.

‘Alright, then, love’, he huffed, ‘wait for me, I’ll go to my room and be back in fifteen’.

He dashed through the mirror door.

I took that time to undo and brush my hair, the loose braid making soft waves on the ends of my hair. As I untangled some strands, the mirror door suddenly opened, and Link - or what appeared to be him under a duvet and pillows - came out of it.

‘Put on your nightie, love’ he ordered, head popping underneath, ‘We’re making a pillow fort tonite!’

‘I have absolutely no idea of what that is’, I answered quite puzzled. ‘Care to explain?’

‘You have never made a pillow fort?’, Link was outraged at my statement. ‘What did you do as a kid?’

‘Study to prepare myself to be the Queen of this land’, I explained, ‘or as I like to describe it, the most non-traditional upbringing ever’.

‘Over-the-top uncommon, for sure, love’. He threw the bundle of bedding on the carpet. He was wearing pajamas already. ‘Go get changed, quick!’

I started taking off my dress behind a divider screen - he might know my body now, but struggling to take off a corset and petticoats on your own is quite… unromantic. Once free from restraints, I put on a lovely white nightdress with thin straps, and a matching robe. Not precisely the most cozy garment, but my intention was to look attractive. As I came closer, his face blushed more and more.

‘Holy Three, what did I do to deserve this?’, he gasped. ‘You look beautiful’.

I just chuckled at his compliment and looked away, then proceeding to build the pillow fort - which is basically camping on your own room, but fun. We brought food and all bundled up in front of the fireplace, we continued our little question game.

‘First kiss’, he started. ‘There is no way you are such a good kisser out of nowhere’.

‘I was sixteen’, I answered. ‘Milena, a girl from court, taught me’.

‘You kissed a girl?!’, he almost yelled.

‘It is a perfectly normal thing, alright?’, I explained him, ‘She was the only friend I had for a while’.

‘What happened to her?’, Link asked, ‘Just curious’.

‘She married, later died during childbirth’, I remembered with sorrow, ‘She was seventeen and a half; so young. Her baby survived though, which is a good thing, despite the grim outcome’.

Link shuddered. ‘I’m sorry’.

My father died soon after she did. It was not a good year at all. 

And then the Twilight came. Not good at all, absolutely.

‘Let us move on to happier matters’, I changed the subject. ‘Your first kiss’.


Now, I was surprised.

‘I told ya I was an innocent country bumpkin’, he said sheepishly, ‘You took my innocence’.

‘Cut it out, you silly pumpkin’  - I pushed him playfully - ‘do not act so childish, you are a grown man through and through!’

‘I don’t think of anyone more perfect than you for the purpose anyway’, he commented, ‘so I can’t complain’.

He rested his head on my lap, arms wrapped around my hips. His posture was positively feline, which elicited a small chuckle from me. I stroked his hair gently, and his eyelids slowly started to close.

‘I wish we could stay like this forever’, he snuggled against my lap, ‘I know we can’t, but we should do this often; I liked it’.

I just hummed affirmatively.

He mumbled something else, and fell swiftly asleep.

I should do the same probably, to enjoy our remaining hours together free of the hassle of formalities, reveling in being wrapped in his warm embrace.



P.S.: I have run out of pages on this notebook! This is perhaps the last entry on this one. It is certainly metaphorical.


A/N: Here’s the fluff! I’m sorry it’s a bit delayed. Enjoy it. And remember, a dose of smut is due on Sunday.

The Stand-In Part 3

A/N: Here’s part three. It isn’t quite what I was expecting, but it felt right when I was writing it. So this is what I’m going with! Enjoy! If you’d like to be tagged in it, shoot me a message or comment on a part and I’ll add you to my list!

Pairing: Firefighter!DeanXReader

Word count: 2680

Warnings: None for this part

Part 1-Part 2-Part 4-Part 5-Part 6


The week couldn’t have gone by any slower, and she watches the clock in her living room nervously as it strikes four thirty.

She promised herself that she wouldn’t start to get ready before five. Any earlier than that and she’d be ready and waiting for Dean to pick her up.

And she has had enough waiting for one week.

Every single day at work was torturous, and the hours spent with her favorite axolotls barely even made up for it.

She’s anxious. It’s been a whole five days since she’s seen the man that is Dean Winchester.

Five days.

God, she sounds like a lovesick puppy when she puts it that way.

She fiddles around on her phone for a while, trying to pass the time until she finally gets to see him again. She runs through her social media apps and plays a few games that don’t really hold her interest.

It makes for slow going, but eventually she makes it to four forty-five.

She decides “to hell with it” and heads for her room to pull on the jean shorts and tank top she has deemed worthy of being first date material. She’s wearing her favorite black underwear and bra set, the ones she usually wears for good luck.

For anyone else, she’d wear a dress, maybe do some makeup. But Dean had specifically told her that they’d be outside and it would be hot, that she shouldn’t worry about makeup.

It didn’t really matter anyways, he had seen her without it at IHOP when they first met. If he didn’t leave at that, then she should be good.

But he didn’t say anything about hair, and she isn’t sure if she should wear it down or put it up. For the outdoors, she considers wearing it in a ponytail, but nothing else seems like first date clothes.

Maybe wearing it down would be better?

Or would Dean even care?

Her phone chimes a message from him, the tone letting her know that it was him and no one else.

Hey, I’m gonna call real quick. Is that okay?

Deciding not to draw the text conversation out, she presses call on her own whim and holds her phone up, looking into her mirror.

She has a flush to her cheeks that hasn’t been there in a long time, her excitement and nervousness staining her cheeks. She draws her bottom lip between her lip and gives a sultry look, wondering if she should try it on him during their date.

“Hi,” she says once she hears him pick up. She’s giddy, excited beyond belief.

“Hey,” he says, his tone telling her immediately that something was wrong. Her smile falls, but she’s determined not to jump to any conclusions.

“What’s up?” she asks nervously while clipping a necklace around her neck that matched her shirt. “I’m getting ready now.”

He should be here to pick her up in less than an hour, and she doesn’t want him to have to wait on her.

“Actually, about that,” he says, and she pauses while reaching for her favorite ring, her other good luck charm. The panties and bra could only do so much, and she felt like she might need the extra luck tonight.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, waiting for his response.

“I know this is super shitty of me to do, but I got called into work and I’m on my way in now. Can we move our date to tomorrow?” he asks, and her face falls.

“Oh,” she whispers, her stomach sinking.

They hadn’t even had a real, planned date and he was already backing out? Maybe she came off as too clingy with her text this morning stating her excitement for their date?

“Yeah, that’s fine. No big deal,” she says, but even she can hear the lie in her own voice.

“I’m so sorry, Sweetheart,” he sounds truly sorrowful through the phone, and she bites the inside of her cheek. “I’m not even on call but the team is off on one serious call, and we just got another major one and a lot of us got called in.”

“No, it’s okay,” she swallows the disappointment down. “It’s work, it’s important to you. I don’t want to stand in the way of that.

“Thank you so much for understanding. I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow with our date,” he says, and she has to struggle to make out her next words.

“Okay. I guess I’ll see you then,” she whispers, saying her goodbyes before hanging up the phone.

She looks at herself in the mirror and has to hold back tears as she takes off her necklace.

It was just a stupid date being rescheduled, why was she getting so emotional about it?

It was a stupid date with a guy she barely even knew for a week, at that. It shouldn’t be very big of a deal.

But damn it, her chest hurts.

The one guy that she really feels something with just postponed their date, the only thing that’s gotten her through this hell of a week, for work.

Where the hell does he even work that’s so important anyways?

He never did say, just that he worked all week and was supposed to be off for the weekend.

As she looks at herself in the mirror, she’s glad that she made herself wait to get ready. She doesn’t want to think how she would feel if she’d been ready and waiting for hours beforehand, only to be skipped out on.

Her stomach grumbles, a reminder that she hadn’t eaten dinner yet as she was waiting for their date.

Angrily, she pulls off her clothes and pulls on the big oversized shirt that she usually sleeps in.

She meanders to the kitchen and grabs some comfort food to make up for her horrible luck and then ventures to the living room.

If she can’t have a date with him, then she’ll just have a date with her television instead.

Even as she thinks that, she realizes how stupid and miserable it sounds.

She flips on the television and finds the end of a cooking show playing, so she decides to leave it there, too upset to bother with changing it.

As she eats her chocolate bar, she looks to her phone and debates sending Dean a text telling him not to bother tomorrow, that if work was more important than something they’d planned then maybe it wouldn’t work out.

Besides, it was better to see this early than be in a relationship with him and see him prioritize work over her more often.

She decides against it because she knows that she’s angry, and once she sent something like that she wouldn’t be able to take it back.

And, after all, she didn’t know what exactly his job was. He could be a doctor for all she knew, and him not going in would kill people.

She finishes one show and is about halfway through another when she flips the channel on the remote accidentally with her elbow when she moves to lay down.

Pictures of a burned house greet her vision, and she frowns at it sadly. It looked like it had burned a good bit, but not the whole thing. It would cost a lot in repairs, if they even tried to save it.

A news reporter stands in front of the wreckage, her black hair in a carefully manicured bob.

“Reporting live from Lawrence, this is Katia Desmond from Triple I with local firefighter Dean Winchester, who has just helped to put out the fire. Dean, can you give us any comments about what happened here?” the female news reporter asks, turning her microphone from herself to a man that looked extremely familiar.

He’s in a full fireman’s uniform, his face dirty and his green eyes tired as he looked to Katia. He’s holding his helmet against his hip his hair wet with sweat.

His posture is one of annoyance, like he would rather be anywhere else than talking to this reporter.

“The man was an alcoholic and got in a fight with his wife. Lit the place on fire to prove a point,” Dean’s voice cuts through her television screen.

She bites her lip as she hears him speak. God, it’s only been an hour or so since she last heard it and it makes her breathless.

“Was anyone injured in the fire?” Katia asks, looking back to the fire a good ways behind them.

“No, both of the residents were lucky to be escorted out before it got too bad,” Dean answers curtly. “We stopped it before it spread anywhere, too.”

Her stomach sinks with regret as she listens to him speak.

She had been angry with him for ditching her when there was a serious emergency that required his attention.

She felt bad now, especially for being so upset. This was something out of his hands, and people’s lives were at stake. Of course he’d prioritize them over her, and he should.

“And is there anything else you’d like to say?” Katia asks, and she turns the microphone back to Dean.

“Yeah, actually,” Dean says, his voice hardening. “I’d like everyone to look at the scene behind us. This, everything that happened, was completely unnecessary.”

He looks back to the camera, and she feels as though Dean is looking right at her.

“Think about this, how unnecessary it was. Now think about the people that have to deal with this,” he says in that same tone of voice. “Some of us have lives outside of this job. Some of us had plans, plans that we’ve been looking forward to for a long time. So before you get wasted and light your entire house on fire, think about the people that have to deal with your actions. Think about how they’re giving up their time for you. Trust me, some of us have much more important things they could be doing.”

Her chest tightens with his words. Her throat constricts, and she finds it difficult to breath for a second as he gives a hard stare into the camera.

Finally, he hands the microphone back to Katia, giving her a nod before turning to return to the rest of the men who were waiting for his interview to finish.

“And… those have been some… heartfelt words from Mr. Dean Winchester, of our local fire department. I’m Katia Desmond, and this has been your Flash Update,” with those final words, the screen goes to commercial.

She watches the screen for a few moments, wondering how she could be so angry at something that she didn’t have all the full pieces to. She feels terrible for having misjudged Dean and his simple request to reschedule.

With her heart heavy in her chest, she turns the television off and stares at the black screen for a moment before collecting her trash and food. She makes her way to the kitchen and discards of what she can, and saves the rest in the refrigerator.

And then she finds her feet trudging to her room, where she sits down on her bed with a heavy sigh.

She rubs the blanket at the edge of her bed for a moment before she falls back onto her pillows, staring at her ceiling for long moments.

Her phone rings at some point, and she lets it. She doesn’t want to talk to him right now, not when she feels so guilty for being mad at him when she totally shouldn’t have been.

Finally, she crawls under her covers and stares at her phone’s screen, looking at the missed call from Dean.

A message pops up, and she reads it before her screen goes black in her hands.

I know you’re probably angry and don’t want to talk to me right now, and I’m angry at myself for putting something else over you. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.

Her stomach twists with his message, and she feels her eyes well with tears. Now here he was apologizing for something that wasn’t even his fault.

She sets her phone down and closes her eyes, hoping that sleep will take her and she can use the silly excuse that she had fallen asleep as a reason for not texting him back.

But sleep won’t come easily, and hours later she finds herself watching the black shadows of her room as they stand unmoving.

She unlocks her phone, checking the time.

One twenty in the morning.

She opens his message and reads it again, exhaling softly before shooting back one of her own.

It’s okay.

She hopes that he’s asleep, that he won’t see her message until in the morning when everything will be a fresh, new day.

But seconds after her message shoots across, she receives another.

What are you doing still awake?

Her stomach twists, and she sighs before typing out a response. He must still be upset, but he isn’t showing it.

I can’t sleep.

Me either.

She types out a text and then deletes it, knowing that she really shouldn’t send it. She bites her lip and finds herself typing it once more before pressing send.

Come over?

His response is nearly instantaneous.

Right now?

Yeah. I can’t sleep, and I miss you. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all week.

Text me your address and I’ll be there in just a minute.

Her heart jolts, and she sends him the message before setting her phone down and clasping her hands over her face.

Was he really coming to visit her at this hour?

He didn’t even hesitate, not a single “Maybe another time” or “I’ll see you tomorrow anyways, though.”

Her phone chimes, and his message makes her smile for the first time in a few hours.

I’ll be there in ten.

She can’t believe it. He’s coming over at one twenty in the morning because…

Because she asked him to.

That’s it, just because she asked him to. Not even to get lucky or because she had a nightmare or something else.

She swallows the lump in her throat and jumps when she hears a knock on her door.

She races to it and throws the door open, hugging him tightly as he stepped through the threshold to her house.

“I’m so sorry, Sweetheart,” he breathes, holding her tightly as he kissed the top of her head. “I just-”

“I saw the news, Dean, it’s okay,” she states into his chest, smelling his thick scent of leather and some special musk that she can’t place but is what she imagines heaven to smell like. “I’m sorry I was so upset by it. You have a really important job, and I shouldn’t have been mad. I feel really bad about it.”

He exhales heavily and then pulls away to look at her, brushing some hair behind her ear.

“Come lay down with me?” she requests, and he smiles the tiniest smile before nodding. She takes his hand and leads him to her room, where she feels the slightest hint of flush creep into her face.

She just invited him into her bed. And she didn’t feel the slightest hint of regret about it.

She crawls in quietly and gestures him over. He climbs in behind her and she turns to face him, looking up to his gaze.

“Is this… Is this moving too fast?” she finally asks, frowning.

“It should be, but I don’t think so,” he answers, lightly grazing her cheek with his fingers. “It feels right.”

“It feels different with you than it did with other people,” she admits, looking to him with a shy smile. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

“Maybe,” he agrees, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Get some rest. I’ve been thinking of some things we can do tomorrow.”

“Dean?” she whispers, leaning into him as she closed her eyes.

“Hm?” he hums, looping an arm around her waist.

“Thank you for coming over.”


Tags for those who have requested it:

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anonymous asked:

Mini mycroft joining a conversation with parliament guys about parliament things

“Hullo gentlemen.”

“Good morning Mr. Holmes,” echoes the parliament cabinet as the small boy pushes a wheelie chair over to the large redwood table beside his father in his recently tailor 3 piece suit.

Mycroft tries to remain looking professional as his 6 year old son climbs into the overly large chair among the cabinet members. As cute as this may be he can’t break out his phone to record this display but hearing a tell-tale ‘click’ from his right side tells him that Anthea has already taken care of that.

Once situated in the seat and barely eyelevel with the table little Reginald Holmes takes his tiny briefcase (a gift from Sherlock no less) plopping it upon the table and takes out a journal (a gift from John) along with his Lighting McQueen writing pen. 

It is adorable.

Just too adorable for words as the 6 year old looks down the hushed table watching him in silent amusement and ask, “So what’s on the table today gentlemen?”

There’s a faint giggle from down the table that sounds like Jefferson but Mycroft can’t be sure so he manages for a warning glare all around.

Trying to carry on as usual (thankfully today wasn’t a terribly important meeting that had sensitive material nor high clearance to be met) Mycroft tries to restart the meeting where they left off. “Well Mr. Holmes, today we are attempting to ascertain whether or not we should cut funding to certain groups that and if not how to cut spending elsewhere to balance the budget.”

Reggie looks very determined to write everything that his father says but due to his motor skills most of it looks like scribbles and half words. "Yes, go on,“ Reggie insists as his brow furrows in concentration.

“I propose that we cut funding to studies that are unnecessary or frivolous," Peterson calls out from the end of the table. "For too long we’ve been wasting tax payer’s dollars on insane studies such as ‘is too much water detrimental to humans' and 'what wines pair better with Chinese cuisine in order to gift them to China’  rather than toward things that truly matter such as how to fix our homeless problem and to tackle our obesity epidemic,” Peterson cites.

“Now just wait a minute Peterson, some of those studies are vital toward our very survival as a human race,” McCoy starts off only to be cut off by Lord Ramsbottom.

Please, as if we needed a study to figure out that literally anything can be stressful given enough intensity and pressure,” he scoffs, what we need are worthwhile solutions to problems that matter now.“

"But let me play the devil’s advocate,” Smith pleads from across the table, “A lot of those researchers have families and rely on our funding to keep them above water-”

“Yeah and they certainly were raging in the streets when we started passing over our own citizens to outsource manual labor to foreign countries and I didn’t see any of them crying out in favor of their families,” Ramsbottom sneers, “At the very least I can count on those that wish to actually produce something to expect results rather than a some half-baked almost conclusion.”

“Gentlemen please! Think of the child,” McCoy tries to settle the shouting from both ends. He gestures to Reggie,  "Don’t you think he too would like the opportunity to have funding if he became a scientist? That chance to prove himself?“

"Nope, cuz’ I want to a pola-la…pola-la…politician like daddy when I grow up,” Reggie proclaims while still struggling with his letters and spelling.

 McCoy looks rather peeved at Reggie but Mycroft’s glare is enough to keep whatever the man wishes to say trapped behind his firm line of his lips. McCoy leaves his seat to walk over to Reggie in a move that naturally has Mycroft’s hand on his brolly.

Leveling himself to Reggie McCoy asks him, “But what about the scientist’s families hmm? Don’t they deserve to live a regular life?”

Reggie giggles, “No one is owed anything unless there’s a contract-anything else is just commonism. Uncle 'Lock taught me that.”

“That’s communism Mr. Holmes,” Anthea corrects softly still filming from her phone.

“What she said,” Reggie elaborates.

If possible McCoy looks even more annoyed. “So you’re saying that those families should suffer? That they and their children should be on the streets starving?”

Mycroft is already feeling the need to grasp his brolly even tighter if McCoy doesn’t let off his boy but Reggie is oddly cool.

Reggie smiles at McCoy. “Now you’re just being silly,” Reggie accuses, “I never said that and that makes you a drama queen just like Uncle 'Lock.”

Now there’s definitely some chuckling going around the table and it drives McCoy to a troubling red. “Oh yeah? Then what do you propose we do to ensure that none of these scientists get laid off and become part of our poverty problem?” he demands.

Reggie doesn’t even look up from his journal. “Easy, we get them tow work on want we want them to  solve and they’ll still have a job. Everyone else that refuses has to come up with their own way to fund their experiments just like Uncle 'Lock," Reggie says evenly as he tries to write neater.

The rest of the cabinet murmurs in agreement as Mycroft spares his small son a very proud smile.

"I say Mr. Holmes, your son is rather bright for his age,” comments one of the senior staff as the meeting concludes.

Mycroft eyes his son who is now engaging Ramsbottom with most be a very enjoyable discussion. "You know what they say, like father like son.“

It's A Sign

A/N: this idea popped in my head and it’s actually the cutest, so I couldn’t help but write it. please be gentle I’m not a great writer.
relationship: Hotch X reader
warnings: abduction, vague themes, and some violence. super sappy and eye rolling love confession.
Narrator POV

Slowly blinking your eyes, you begin to regain consciousness. Immediate confusion. You try to lift your hand to assess the throbbing pain in the back of your head, but it’s restrained. The eye goop clears out of your eyes as you blink it away. You begin to evaluate your surroundings. Deep breaths. Flashing red light straight ahead, cardboard boxes taped to the walls, some kind of rectangular room, small light above your head illuminating the chair you’re restrained to… another deep breath. Panic begins to rise in your chest. You try to make a sound, but can’t seem to. A bandana is tied tightly around your mouth.

“What Happened? How did I get here? Where is the team? Where am I…” Your thoughts race.

You look around the room frantically looking for any clues, trying to gather your thoughts that seem to be splatter across the floor. You can hear a slight beeping… sounds electronic. A shuffling of feet comes from the direction of the red light. A questionable chuckle begins to come from the same direction.

“Oh joy… this will be a fun one!” Pulling your thoughts together. It feels like a teeter-totter of emotions. You think to yourself. It’s better to joke than cry… you might do both. Overwhelmed… very overwhelmed.

“Helllllooooo, there!” A confident voice booms, coming from the direction of the beeps. Followed by someone quickly typing on a computer keyboard and a clicking of a mouse.

“Oh, alright! There she goes!” The voice excitedly says. The shadowy figure steps out of the darkness. Tall, nicely dressed, clean cut young man with a wild smirk on his face. He spins a computer screen around as your eyes grow wide. Penelope Garcia is onscreen. She’s totally not paying attention. Probably working on a case at the screen directly next to the one the webcam is turned on to. You try to make a sound to get Garcia’s attention.

“Nuh-uh, sugar. That would be too simple, wouldn’t it? Mic isn’t on yet, but you can hear her. Let’s call it a gesture of good faith!” He put some extra excitement on the last sentence for emphasis.

You need to pull your thoughts together! Come on. You’ve got this. Pick up some clues on the way. You’re here for a reason… why? British accent, cocky, harsh, lone wolf… you’re getting there. Start the profile…

You hear sounds coming from the computer. Penelope is still distracted at her other computer. The door behind her opens… Jennifer. JJ shuts the door behind her, file in hand, heels clicking, and a smile spread across her face. Not for long, though.

Looking down at the file… well her phone. Her phone was on top of the file. She begins to speak, but is cut off very quickly when her eyes find their way to the screen. Her eyes grow wide and she freezes. It seems like minutes before she reacts.

“GARCIA, LOOK AT THE SCREEN!” Penelope is jolted out of her deep concentration as she looks back a JJ, pointing at her other screen.

“oh my god… OH MY GOD! No, no, no, no, no, not again… not again. this cannot be happening again!” She increasingly gets louder.

“HOTCHNER! Garcia’s office now!” JJ screams out the hallway.

Aaron and the rest of the team come rushing into the room. Gasps and wide eyes are all that happened for several long seconds. But, all you see is Hotch. Hotch gave several demands as Derek and Emily scurried out of the room.

“Y/N…” Hotch gasped out lowly, but you could here him.

You have no idea what your captor wants from you. You can see him shuffling and preparing for something. Flipping switches, typing rather harshly, and tapping his foot impatiently.

“Well, now that the pleasantries are out of the way, let’s get to business! What I need from you is some information. If you can give me everything I need you MAY even get out of here with all of your body parts!! How exciting. But, a failure to cooperate may result in pain, nausea, vomiting, loss of appetite, and maybe even death. Even more exciting, am I right or am I right?” he exclaims beginning to get more excited clasping his hands together.

The team’s eyes are starting to change… they’re reacting. He flipped on the microphone. Good, this is good. Garcia can isolate background noises, measure room depth and height, analyze the surroundings, and find where you are. This is all good, there’s a chance you may get out of here. The profile is working against you, but the computer genius is working in your favor. This should make you feel better, but it doesn’t. It really doesn’t. There’s so much you feel like you haven’t done yet… so much you haven’t said. All you wanted right now was to be able to finish your PHD (which you dreaded finishing), going on boring ass stakeouts with Hotch again (which you had a love-hate relationship with), and drink awful police station coffee with stale bagels. Your thoughts wander back to Hotch. Oh Hotch… the things that you want to say to him more than anything right now. The things you’d been absolutely terrified to tell him. The thoughts you’d been hiding for years. Well, you thought you were hiding.


You think back to the day Spencer nervously came up to you in the break room. He cleared his throat, “The human body subconsciously reacts to physical attraction. People tend to lean towards someone they’re attracted to when they’re talking. The human pupil dilates when looking at someone they love. We even tend to touch, said person, at unnecessary moments without realizing it…” Reid rambled on for five minutes while you sipped your coffee, occasionally zoning out. You finally cleared your throat because he began to look tired.

“Is there a point to this story, Doctor?” You chuckled at the naive young doctor.

“Oh, yes! Sorry. There is, indeed, a point and a good one at that. Y/N, I can see how you act around Hotch.” You choke on your coffee.

“Spence, you must be mistaken. I don’t have feelings for Aaron.” You laugh masking the thick nerves in the air. You lie seemingly well. But, Spencer saw right through it. He may be naive, sometimes, but he was a profiler first.


You wanted to go back to that moment more than anything. Any moment that wasn’t this specific moment. You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts when you felt a tear rolling down your face. Staring intently at the screen, at Hotch. He was staring right back, studying your face, and your body language.

“I need to know everything about Mission number 221, code name Morning Star.” Your captor spoke. Your heart sank immediately. Right then another tear dropped down your face, you were not getting out of here alive. Everything slowly started to make sense.


Garcia began typing into every government search engine she could think of. She typed the code word and mission number over and over again. The first engine she looked at was FBI, classified documents. Second engine, MI5, classified. CIA, no information. Secret Service, classified. Setting off many alarms because of the nature of the operation.

“Garcia, I need something, anything! declassify the damn files, DO SOMETHING!” Hotch said hurriedly.

“I’m analyzing the background, running his voice through analog and voice rec, searching for the code words. I’m doing everything sir, everything.” Garcia sobbed slightly, tears silently streaming down her face.


Morning Star was an undercover operation you were assigned before being assigned to the BAU. You were deep undercover for 18 months in Europe trying to find a mole in MI5 that was leaking operation secrets, safe house locations, undercover officer identities, and highly classified information from joint agency operations and task forces. When you finally began getting leads in the case it led you to a highly respected senior agent. You began a relationship with him to get closer to him and figure out who he was leaking the information to and who was targeting the FBI, MI5, and other joint forces currently working on operations together. Evidence led you to find ties to the Russian mafia. When your handler got your most recent evidence an infiltration of the mafia was put into place. After months of careful planning and investigation, your team found the headquarters of the group of Russian assassins targeting joint government agencies. The op was a go, you were ordered to apprehend the group responsible. During the breach of the base, the element of surprise was compromised when an alarm was triggered. The operation went south quickly. The senior agent mole and four Russian mafia members were killed in the operation while several unknown subjects escaped. After the Op your team received Intel that the Senior Agent’s son had deep connections in the Russian mafia. You and your entire team were immediately assigned back to the states after the sting due to your covers being compromised and unusable.


You knew this was probably going to be the end. The mafia doesn’t simply let someone go that killed several of their own people and destroying their operation. You could not die. You could not die without telling Aaron the truth. You could not die with so many things left unsaid But, how? You were gagged and bound. Morse code? No, they probably wouldn’t recognize it right away. You have to tell him, you have to. While they work to get you out of here you need to get all unfinished business completed just in case you don’t make it out alive. Sign language, you could sign to the webcam! You learned last Christmas break when you were sick with the flu.

Liam, the senior agents son, approached you slowly. Becoming completely visible to the team. You assume Garcia is already trying facial recognition.

Liam cracked your arm with a whip unexpectedly, demanding information. You knew you couldn’t give him anything.

He quickly undid the bandana gagging your mouth, “TALK NOW!” he boomed.

You couldn’t say anything without risking the cover of the agents that went back under. Any slip up of any tiny bit of information could damage the entire operation and get the agents killed. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve been tortured. You just cried. There is nothing you could do to stop this. Now or never.

You began to sign while Liam was distracted.

Aaron first, life saving information second. sounds logical.

(A, closing your fist, lifting you hand, and waving it slightly.)
(signing A again)
(R, fingers crossed.)

“She’s signing…” Reid whispered, but you heard him. You smiled slightly.

Liam cracked the whip a dozen more times across your legs. You had to stop signing the pain was getting too great and you were afraid he’d see what you were trying to do. Tears were flowing like an open spout.

“This has been so much fun, Y/N. I’ll give you a little break to think about what you’re GOING to tell me.” He patted my head and threw the whip to the side with a huff. Wrapping the bandana around your mouth again. Sobs escape your mouth again. He walked over to the sliding door and the sun beamed through as he hopped down off a- something… you couldn’t tell. He left their mic on… mistake! Relief washes over you, there’s a chance. You began to sign again.

(O, making your hand a circle.)
(N, putting your thumb between your ring and middle finger)

“She spelled Aaron…” Reid stated with a slight shock in his voice. Hotch eyes widened, extremely surprised. You smiled through the sobs.

“Y/N, I’m here.” Hotch said sadly. You lifted your hand up with your pinky, thumb, and index raised. Sobs continued to escape through the bandana.

“and that means I lov-”
“I know what it means, Reid.” Hotch interrupted, sternly. The team focusing in on Hotch as he stared at the screen. Garcia continued to type trying to find anything she could to save you.

“I’ve got something!”


Part 2?

Payed to Date (1)

(Based on 10 Things I Hate About You film)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (eventually), College AU

Summary: As soon as Steve starts going to his new college, he’s infatuated with Natasha Romanoff, the prettiest and one of the most loved girls in the school. However she isn’t allowed to date until her ‘shrew’ older sister does and Steve is determined to find someone for her. Eventually, he does, but will his plan work? Or will it go down the plughole?

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 1,127

Author’s Note: So, I decided to write a series based on the film named ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ but I changed the title because my ongoing series also has a similar name. The POV will alter every now and then. And god damn it, it was a great movie I loved it so muchhhhhh!!! AAAAAAAhhh!!! Anywayssss, as always, enjoy and I hope you like it! (By the way this gif suits this part perfectly im so happy omg)

Originally posted by thestackieshow

Masterlist  //  Masterpage

Steve’s POV

“Oh wow, nine school in nine years.” the guidance counselor Maria Hill’s eyebrows formed a two-sided triangle as she read the paper in her hand. 

“Yeah, my dad, uhhh-” Steve stopped mid-talk, looking for the right word to continue his sentence, “Is a migrant worker. We always move-”

The counselor shrugged stopping him, “I don’t care. You can tell those fairy tales to someone else.”

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Jealousy Is The Tie That Binds || S.M.


‘Shawn request where like I’m on Broadway or something and we’re doing beauty and the beast and I play one of the three girls obsessively in love with gaston and it’s my first performance ever and Shawn comes to see but seeing me fawn over another guy, even though it’s acting makes him extremely jealous so after we go home and he fucks me really hard and I like can’t walk’

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk tomorrow.”

“Maybe you should get your understudy to take over.”

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The Party

This is my first ever Mass Effect fan fiction, so please try to not be too hard on me, haha :)

Things to keep in mind:
•This takes place after the Destroy ending, but in this version the non-reaper synthetics survived.
•Shepard survived the Destroy ending, she was picked up by the Normandy and healed at Huerta Memorial.
•Thane is still alive, his story follows the PC Thane Mod’s story where his Kepral’s syndrome was treated and he received a lung transplant. However, Shepard has not seen or been contacted by Thane since the transplant & since Earth.
•The party that takes place in the Citadel DLC is happening now, post-Earth instead of before it.
•This story contains a tiny bit of cursing.


She glanced up. She had been standing silently, arms crossed, leaned up against the wall near her desk. Her gaze never left her private terminal, pleading internally that she would see that green light blinking.

“You’re missing the party, Shepard. Come out and join us.” Garrus said.

This party had not been Shepard’s idea, but for some reason several of her friends absolutely insisted on it. Shepard reasoned it must be to get her to socialize after everything she had been through.

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Imagine being a fortune teller able to really see the future and Stephen Strange showing up at your doorstep to find out if you really have a gift and aren’t just a fraud. And you are the real thing to consult you. -Requested by anon
This is the last part, since a few of you asked for a part 3 :D ✯

Part 1Part 2 | Part 3

You supposed you should be used to the good Doctor showing up in your humble shop, yet somehow he always manages to catch you off guard.

His visits have been more and more frequently lately. Sometimes he needs your help when it comes to saving the world. Other times, he needs help locating the nearest Thai food place. Regardless, your day always seemed to brighten when he showed up. You’d even go so far as to say he was your friend.

An orange ring of sparks suddenly appeared over the carpet. Unfortunately for you, you were in the middle of a reading. When you saw the first signs of the portal, your eyes widened. “- and, uh, yup! You’ll find what you truly desire in the park!” You got up quickly and brought your confused client to her feet.

“But what about my-”

You cut her off, hurriedly rushing her towards the door. You made sure you were standing in front of the sparks so she couldn’t see. “Yes, yes, your missing dog Lucky is currently at the kennel on 53rd and 6th. Thank you for stopping by! Come again!” With that, you rather rudely slammed the door shut. You locked the door and flipped the sign to “Closed”. You didn’t have time to feel bad about your client because at that second, the portal opened fully and out popped Stephen.

“What’s up, Doc?” you joked. He didn’t laugh.

He stared blankly at you. “Don’t say that ever again. Just… it’s Strange.”

“… Right, sorry. What’s up?”

When he spoke, his words came out a little rushed.“I assume you’re not busy with anything important, hm?”

“Actually, I was in the middle of a reading,” you muttered. “I had to cut the session short. Why?”

He lowered his voice (though it was unnecessary as you were the only two people in the shop), “I need your help with something very important. Something Wong doesn’t even know about. Have you noticed anything… different about me?”

You stared at him for a few seconds, but you didn’t really notice anything different. “Uh… there’s more grey streaks in your hair than usual?”

“What? No!” He took a step back, slightly offended. He smoothed back his hair self-consciously for good measure.“My cloak! Can’t you see my cloak is missing? I need to find it!”

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Maybe, no, yes - Fred Weasley Imagine (Requested)

  Wind blew through Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry like a hurricane. Notes were roaming around the grounds unclaimed with young students desperately chasing after them. Despite the weather being a complete and utter mess, things seemed calm in (Y/N)’s perspective. She had been spending the day glued to her seat wasting valuable time on unnecessary learning. Not that it bothered her much anymore, now she was “home free” or at least for the rest of the evening.  (Y/N) was planted on the damp grass lying peacefully in between the legs of her best friend, Fred Weasley. His classes had ended an hour earlier then (Y/N)’s yet he insisted on waiting outside her class doors until she was finished, ignoring her pleas of offering to meet him at their special spot. Fred’s hands ranked aimlessly through (Y/N)’s hair, enjoying the smooth softness captivating his fingers. It was a funny in a way, their friendship. Fred fancied (Y/N) more than anybody in the world, and she was aware. He had hopelessly asked her out a good number of times not granted approval any of the times sadly. It didn’t weigh him down oddly enough; he still thought the same of the beauty. Adoring her in every way possible was all he had on mind.

(Y/N) tilted her head back, leaning further into Fred. She scribbled unreadable words on her parchment then folded it messily, throwing it back into her jam packed bag. Fred watched closely, smiling lost in his own thoughts. Seeing as (Y/N) looks in a pretty comfortable and easy  going mood, Fred decided it would be a good time to take another shot.

“So (Y/N) I was thinking, I know you’ve already said no about 4 times was it?” (Y/N) shook her head holding up five fingers,
“Oh I see five, well anyways as I was saying… I believe six sounds like a pretty lucky number, don’t you think?” Glee was evident in his words, hitting (Y/N) like a punch to the stomach. He was one of the only people she could put all her trust in. It hurt her seeing him so head over heels when she was undecided about her exact feelings. What hurt the most was the look on his face each time she said no, it was like his heart literally broke. His face would fall completely then go on muttering how stupid he was and that he should’ve known she’d say no. Which would destroy her, but it didn’t feel right saying yes on such a mixed heart.

“Fred, I-I’m just… the thing is… I don’t know.” She diverted her gaze from his face not wishing to see the disappointment and rather the view of Hagrid’s home.

“Suppose that’s better than a no.” Fred murmured tossing his long arms around (Y/N)’s shoulder.


“(Y/N) my darling, how are you?” Fred asked jogging to catch up with the (H/C) haired wonder. (Y/N) turned grinning at Fred and rolling her eyes having an idea already where the conversation was heading.

“Hello kind sir and I’m very well, thank you for asking. How are you doing this fine morning?” Fred just gave her a lazy shrug and nudged her jokingly.

“I think I’d be doing a lot better if you were mine.” He paused in the hallway blocking the herd of students from getting down the middle, causing them all to shift to the right or the left. (Y/N) watched the students on the left side catching the eye of the other twin, who sent her a wink back pointing to his brother.

“Which leads me to the question of the day, bet you can’t guess it.” Fred wiggled his brow in a funny fashion. (Y/N) stared blankly walking around him not planning on being late to her next class. A sigh escaped his lips as he tried running back up to her side.

“It’s a no, sorry Fred.” Picking up her pace and weaving in and out of students, (Y/N) lost Fred who stood defeated in the swarming crowd of busy people. Fear was the only thing that she could use to describe how she felt. (Y/N) was scared out of her mind; she could slowly sense herself slipping towards Fred wanting to say yes so badly. If it were that easy and yes was all that would be needed to be said, she’s do it. If things were easy like that, that is. But things weren’t, and (Y/N) was beyond scared to hand her heart over.


The Great Hall was overflowing with hungry student eager for stomach filing food. (Y/N) was among these kids, sitting next to Hermione and Dean trying to avoid Fred. George sat diagonal sending slightly harmful glares in her direction, making her shifted awkwardly in her seat significantly uncomfortable. Fred was nowhere to be found, not that much paid much mind simple assuming her was sick. (Y/N) knew better, sliding her plate away she slung her feet over the bench like chair heading out of the Great Hall in search for Fred. Suddenly a tug on her robes snatched her back.

“He’s in our room you should really go talk to him. You’re the only one that can make him feel better… I mean I get it if you’re not interested in him, but at least tell him that straight on. Fred can’t handle anymore maybes, or I don’t know. Please (Y/N).” George spoke releasing her clothes as she nodded turning on her heel practically running full speed out of the Hall. George smiled a tad, knowing how (Y/N) was feeling. He only wanted them to be happy.


“Fred? Fred are you in here, George told me you were!” (Y/N) walked around the filthy room of the twin brother unable to find the light switch.

“Yeah I’m over here, did George send you?” Fred stayed focus on the site outside his window while he spoke to (Y/N), not bothering to question how she made it into the boy’s dorm. His eyes were locked on the breath taking star covered sky. Not a single piece of the dark sky was bare and he hadn’t seen anything like it.

“Sort of, he told me where I could find you. Listen Fred I’m sorry about hurting you it’s ju-“
“That you don’t like me. Don’t worry I get it I’m not hurt if that’s what you think. I can take no.” He replied defensively. (Y/N) huffed shooing Fred’s bent knees to the side so she could sit across from him. He looked up at her confused, not understanding why she was still with him. She had usually left when they reached this point in most of their conversations.

“I know you can, but I shouldn’t be saying no to something I would die for. I want to be with you, sincerely I do. The thing is I get this feeling things are going to get madly ruined, and we’ll never get things between us to the same point. I don’t want that… I like you a lot and I want to be with you so badly it hurts. Each time I say no it’s like another dagger is pushing into my heart, and with every no it only gets shoved down deeper and deeper.” She finished with tears brimming in her glossy eyes. Using all her might (Y/N) pushed them back staring up at Fred with sorrow hoping he’d understand.

“I’ll never let anything harm you (Y/N), I thought you knew that? So what if things don’t work out. We can always go back to being friends, breaking up doesn’t take that part away. Besides you’ll never know if you don’t try.” Fred placed a hand on her chin, lifting it up causing her to look him straight in the eye.

“So I guess I could ask one more time, eh? (Y/N) would you fancy going on a date with me say tomorrow evening?” His eyes full of new found hope, gripping her hand he spoke. (Y/N) nodded a smile plastered on her face.

“Yes I would love to.” Fred broke out into a grin pulling her in for a warm hug. George, Dean, Ron, and Harry all walked into the door taking in the show playing out in front of them. George glided over taking a seat directly between the two smiling like an idiot, leaving the others standing in the doorway watching with huge eyes. Probably surprised she finally had said yes.
“So, what’d we miss?”

~ Willow xxxx (Request are open)

your song

A/N: here I am forever taking the longest time getting to prompts! I hope its okay that I combined a few of them :)) If it it’s not what you were looking for, do let me know! I hope you like it otherwise!

Prompts: “Stop pushing me away.” && “When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then !”


It has only been a few months since the two girls graduated and moved into their own apartment together.

“I don’t know what I should do.”

“What do you mean?”

“Charlie is getting married and for some reason he decided to invite me. I feel like he did on purpose because he proposed to me a few years ago, I turned him down. And now, I’m single and he’s fricking getting married!” Riley throws her hands up in the air before falling back onto her bed.

“So you think Charlie is getting married to prove a point?” Maya raises her brow, highly doubting that was the reason.

“No. That’s not it. But who invites an ex to a wedding?” She questions as if the answer was obvious.

“I mean, yeah it is a little weird that he decided to invite the girl who turned his proposal down.” An expression of distaste is clearly evident on her soft features as she thinks about the entire situation. “Why did you go out with him again?”

Riley couldn’t help but let a small laugh escape her lips when she takes note of the genuine curiosity in her best friend’s voice. “Honestly, we all know why I went out with him.”

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Madness - Joker!AU

Originally posted by peperodays

next: pt 2

“I don’t know.. I know you are a qualified doctor, but ready?“ The voice of your boss is thick with concern. “I don’t think anyone is ever ready for.. him.”

Your eyes trail to the man she is referring to. He looks like a young male, tousled hair with a face and body that belongs to a Burberry model, not a criminal in an Asylum. 

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I'm finally done

A/N: I’ve been wanted to get this done before I work on anything else, so yes I actually do work on the stuff I talk about, I sometimes just get distracted *sweats nervously*. Do you remember this post?  Well here’s the finished one-shot. Tell me if you’d like to see this as a chapter fic.

Prompt: Everything snk except titans are zambeeeeeeeezzzz! Mikasa and Levi are trapped in a collapsed dungeon room of an abandoned castle. It has been hours and the two of them are w/o rations with a horde of undead nipping at their heels. Read on and find out what happens!

Rating: T (with the some mention of gore)

Genre: Survival/Angst/Drama

Setting: Snk AU

Pairing: Levi/Mikasa

Honesty in Final Moments

It’s been five hours. Their bodies ached from exhaustion—no food, no water, no means of escape nor rescue.

Mikasa Ackermen and Corporal Levi both laid trapped in a prison dungeon room. Half the ceiling collapsed inward, huge chunks of stone debris blocking the roof from where it fell. It took up half the space of the room. The prison gate was partially covered by the stony boulders. The remaining exposed prison bars were coated with undead climbing on top of each other extending their arms and legs.

They gnawed and gnashed their jaws against the metal, growling snarling and hissing; spitting bloody bile out of their mouths. They uttered incoherent moans, persistent, desperate for human flesh. Their prey rested farthest from them, huddled in a corner. The corporal’s eyes keenly eyed them for any changes of their usual pattern. He looked weary—the dark circles well pronounced under his steely gaze.

“I’m going to be honest with you,” he muttered, “We’re going to die in this place.”

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Troublesome Twins (Akiyoshi Zaizen)

Prompt: “Imagine person A of your OTP is pregnant and having to put up with some kicks and squirms from the baby which are rather bothersome to A. B then sings to the baby which seems to calm it down or rather lull it to sleep.”

I was so inspired yesterday that I wrote this lovely Akiyoshi fic all morning long.

:) I would write more but my hand is all cramped up lols so, enjoy!

The end of the work day was at last approaching. Each minute seemed to tick by slower and slower; not that it would matter anyway. Your husband, and also your boss, Akiyoshi, behaved in his usual work tyrant manner.  Demanding your completed article before the day’s end. It was already long overdue. Since Seasonelle went to print tonight, and published tomorrow morning… It wasn’t a completely absurd demand. Another glance at the clock told you that was definitely not happening. You couldn’t help but groan aloud, the desire to bang your head against your desk was strong. If you could reach it you definitely would have.

You glare down at your 8 month pregnant belly. Damn them. If it wasn’t for their rowdy antics all day long the article would have finished ages ago. But alas, the soccer game they seemed to be playing inside kept you distracted. Additionally heartburn, constant need to pee, and the desire to cry at almost everything. The list was endless, and the joys of pregnancy seemed to stop ages ago. Perhaps it was time to take Akiyoshi up on the early maternity leave offer. Your pride can go to hell! Who the hell thought it was a good idea to work right up until your due date anyway? Oh that’s right, your foolish past self. The idiot with a ridiculous righteous obligation of pulling your own fair share. Your feminist side who didn’t want to let having babies keep you back. Well damn them. And damn that inner feminist goddess voice. None of those assholes have to birth babies.

“Kelly?” You swivel around in your chair, thank god for those, and see your worried husband. The one word from their father is enough to set off another round of painful rowdy kicks.

“Oh Aki, I haven’t finished yet.” You massage your belly hoping to calm them. But it doesn’t help, not even out yet and they are already causing a ruckus. Akiyoshi’s hand twitches at his side, like he wants to join yours. But he is still in boss mode so he doesn’t dare.

“It’s fine. I’ll finish for you. Go on ahead home.” A quick glance around the office shows you that everyone else has already left. Not surprising they all left without saying goodbye. They have been tip toeing around you for a month now, too afraid to ‘anger the beast’. Assholes.


“No. I could tell you weren’t feeling well today. Go. Home.” Akiyoshi stresses and growls out the last two words. Damn he’s serious.

“Alright then, thank you.” You pucker your lips hoping for a kiss and can see the hesitation in his eyes, but it’s only for a moment. Akiyoshi swoops forward with a gentle kiss, before helping you stand up. You sway a little, still not adjusted to your new balancing act. The rambunctious kicking tykes are not helping whatsoever. Akiyoshi wraps an arm around you best he could to help steady.

“Are you okay?” Your poor conflicted husband, you know he’s afraid to let you go home alone now.

“I’ll be fine, they’re just rowdy today.” You smile, hoping it is convincing enough, and grab your purse. With any luck you can leave before he changes his mind. Waiting a few hours in discomfort so Akiyoshi can walk home with you is the last thing you want to do.
“Aki please, I’ll have dinner all ready for you, and I just feel like soaking in a hot bath. Maybe it will calm them down so I can sleep for once tonight.” You squish your belly against him so you can reach, and nuzzle your head into his broad chest . Your short height and large pregnant belly has made simple tasks more difficult lately. You couldn’t even kiss your own husband for goodness sake!

“Fine, but keep your phone on you just in case. And call me if anything, and I mean anything happens.” Akiyoshi hugs you tight as best he could reach, and growls his reluctant words out.

“Mine died earlier, I forgot to charge it last night.” You could hear another growl from above you, you’re surprised he doesn’t reprimand you about it. Instead he makes you take his phone with you and reluctantly sends you on your way.

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Celebrate Me Home - The One Where Dean Has An Accident

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 7200-ish

Warnings: None, at this point…still.

Summary: A Dean Winchester Holiday//Daddy//Bookstore!AU ~ Spending a day in the life of Dean Winchester is a lot more fun than anyone would have ever led y/n to believe. Especially when the night ends with an accidental date.

A/N: Not much to say here, but honestly thank you so much for your time and consideration. You don’t have to read this but you are and I feel so very honored and thankful

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

Originally posted by snowonchristmas

Originally posted by demondetoxmanual

November 19th…36 Days until Christmas

Nineteen days, that is the magic number of the moment. It’s been nineteen days since she last saw her fiancé; nineteen days since she last spoke with her parents; nineteen days since she last stepped foot in her own home. It’s been two weeks and five days and god, what a wonderful time it has been.

Y/n honestly never knew it was humanly possible to be so happy, never knew someone was able to enjoy waking up in the morning. But here she is, flat on her back with a tiny precocious 6 year old child jumping up and down on the foot of her bed, and she has never been more content in all her life.

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For the Better

 Previous Jude fic

On AO3

   They didn’t like her. Why didn’t they like her?

   Jude sat in the Mystery Shack’s living room, chewing her food like she wanted to kill it. The couch, armchair, beanbags, and folding chairs had all been claimed by quicker kids than she, the carpet too. No one had invited her to sit next to them. No one had wanted her to sit next to them; they never did. So Jude sat in the corner farthest away from the holo, farthest away from the other kids, stewing in frustration. And the question played on loop in her head. Why didn’t they like her? Why?

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"Shut up.”

Originally posted by wdwlsn

 (CACW) Peter Parker x Reader

Request: In honour of Tom Holland’s birthday, is it possible you could do a fan fiction in which the Avengers tease the reader about her feelings for Peter Parker? And in addition maybe some girly chats with Wanda and Nat that involves even more teasing?(You can choose whether the reader was already aware of her feelings or if she didn’t realize she liked/loved him until the Avengers said something about it) also they are both best friends before this discussion happened. I know you’ve kinda done things with this but I want more details! Also I adore all your stories and head canons and stuff!!!!!!!!!!!!

It was an unusually peaceful day at the tower. Surprisingly, there were none of the usual explosions or loud arguments. It seemed like everybody was too busy doing their own thing to be shouting at each other. You were extremely grateful for this. The Avengers may have been older than you, but they definitely didn’t act like it. You often had to break up petty fights between your team members, whether it be about who had better hair or the best fighting skills.

So, as you sat down at the table with your bowl of cereal, you let out a pleasant sigh. Maybe, just maybe, you could have a nice, quiet meal without any snarky remarks or food fights. Yes, that would be perfect. As you scooped up a spoonful of soggy cornflakes from your bowl, you heard the sound somebody entering the kitchen.

You glanced sideways, to see Tony, standing there in all of his usual smug glory. You tried to ignore him, knowing that smug Tony was never a good omen. From what you could see, he was wearing his usual Ray Ban sunglasses (Even though he was indoors. You could never understand that man), and his Black Sabbath shirt. With arms crossed, he strode over to where you were sitting and pulled out a chair, promptly sitting on it, still smirking at you.

“So, Y/n,” Tony said, lacing his fingers. “Parker, huh?”

You, who hadn’t really been listening (Whoops), simply nodded, savouring the sweet taste of your cereal. It had been so long since you had had a serene meal, and you really could not be stuffed letting Tony ruin it with his prying questions. 

“Really?” the billionaire asked, still staring at you intently. “I didn’t think you were into the bumbling, dorky type.”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, mouth still full of cornflakes and milk. You still had no idea what Tony was saying. And quite honestly, you couldn’t care less. 95% of the time Tony said something, it was about how generous and amazing he was.

Tony kept on asking you questions, where your answers would usually be a grunt or a shrug. Every now and then, you caught on to the words ‘Peter,’ ‘Spider-boy’ and ‘I can’t believe it’. Tony, obviously dissatisfied by your unintelligible answers, stood up and exited the room with his usual dramatic flair. You were a bit weirded out, but you put it off as Tony just being his ordinary, nosy self. Hopefully the rest of your day wouldn’t be as weird as your morning had been.

But, of course, it only got stranger.


You punched the red boxing bag repeatedly. You were in the training room, running, punching, kicking, climbing, repeat. Of course, Tony being one who especially enjoyed extravagance, had installed a heap of unnecessary equipment in the gym. Anti-gravity treadmills lined the walls, some even hanging sideways on the walls for a bit of an ‘extra challenge.’ You had tried running on one of the sideways treadmills, but, unluckily for you, you only ended up with a severely bruised back. Some of the equipment in there hadn’t even been invented for the public yet. And you definitely did not want to try them out.

You continued to strike the poor bag over and over again. You had nearly knocked the bag off its hook, when an arrow whizzed past you so closely that you could feel the fletching graze over your ear.

“What the- “ you hissed, spinning around. Maybe it was just you, but getting shot in the head by an arrow was not your idea of fun.

Clint Barton, with his bow still aimed, folded his arms, grinning at you. “Now, Y/n. Better not be caught using bad words.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, glaring in his direction. “Then don’t aim your arrow at my head. I’d prefer to be alive in time for lunch. What are you doing here anyway?”

Clint’s Cheshire cat smile grew even larger. “I know your secret.”

You froze. Millions of thoughts raced around your mind. Did he find out about your secret stash of pop tarts? Oh no, he probably learned about the dead rat you put in Tony’s bedroom. Crap.

“What secret?” you said, blinking innocently.

“I know you like Parker. Peter Parker. The spider kid.”

Silence filled the air. The tension in the room was so thick you could have cut it with the knife. You gaped at the archer, your jaw hitting the floor. How… how did he know. How the hell had he found out. Yeah, sure, you found Peter attractive… and funny… and adorable… and dorky…

“What are you talking about?” you smirked warily, trying to recover from your moment of weakness.

Clint rolled his eyes, sass radiating off of him. “Kid, don’t even try lying. Mainly because you suck at it.”

You closed your gaping mouth, narrowing your eyes at Clint. “Alright, let’s say I do like Peter. How would you know?”

“I stalked you when I was in the vents.”


“Ow!” Clint whined, rubbing the back of his head. “What was that for?”

“That was for stalking me, you creep,” you grumbled, hitting his arm. “You tell anybody I like Peter, your arrows will die.”

Clint could only nod meekly as you strode out of the room.


You glanced around the corner, looking around for any sign of human life. After your conversation with Clint, you didn’t want anybody else asking you anymore awkward questions. You especially didn’t want anybody else to know about your crush. Or, even worse, for Peter to find out. Unfortunately for you, you were surrounded by a bunch of intrusive adults that acted like pre-schoolers.

You had just about figured the coast was clear, when a warm hand grasped your shoulder. You yelped slightly, whipping around in a defensive stance. You were ready to break the neck of any intruder that had broken into the Avengers Tower.

“Whoa, Tiger,” Natasha steadied, raising her hands. “It’s just me. Calm down.”

“Nat,” you breathed, relieved. “What are you doing here?”

Natasha crossed her arms (God, what’s up with all these Avengers always crossing their arms?). “Why’ve you been avoiding everyone today?”

“W-what?” you stuttered, trying to recover from shock. You knew Natasha was a super spy, but could she really tell you were trying to become invisible for the day?

“Y/n, I’m a trained Russian elite spy. Do you really think I wouldn’t know you’re trying to avoid everyone because you like the Parker boy?”

Darn. You knew Natasha was good, but not this good. First Tony, then Clint, and now Natasha. Were you really that obvious about your crush? You hoped not.

“Sweetheart, come into my room,” Natasha smiled, opening her door. “Let’s have a talk.”

You walked into the spy’s room, looking around. You could see Wanda, hovering cross-legged in mid-air, beaming at you. You could tell the two women couldn’t wait for you to spill the beans.

“Well,” you started, emotionally preparing yourself for a whole lot of drama. “Th thing is…”


Chilling on the couch, you let out a big huff. Today, there had been too much drama for you to handle. At the start of the morning, you had been foolish enough to think the day would be peaceful. Ha, ha, ha, no. One of the disadvantages of being an Avengers. No peace, not ever. Not even if you buried yourself in a hole on the other side of the world. The Avengers would still manage to find you.

You picked up the TV remote, casually flipping from channel to channel. You couldn’t be bothered to move from the couch. You were wearing your ‘don’t give a crap anymore’ clothes. Meaning and old shirt and old sweatpants. And also slightly old leftovers. Whatever.

You were just about to shove in another mouthful of pepperoni pizza when somebody covered your eyes with their hands. “Guess who,” the person behind you laughed.

Your body went rigid. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. It couldn’t be. It was impossible. You turned around, praying to God that it wasn’t who you thought it was.

“Hey, Y/n,” the one and only Peter Parker greeted excitedly.

You wanted to bury yourself in a hole. And shrivel up and fade away into oblivion. You suddenly became self-conscious about your old clothes and stinky pizza. Your face changed from thirty-two different shades of red.

“Uh, Peter,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck nervously. “What are you doing here?”

“Just thought I’d visit,” he chirped in his usual happy voice. “Mr Stark also invited me as well.”

Tony, who had been casually sipping some alcoholic concoction, raised his glass to you behind Peter’s back.

You smiled rigidly, trying to listen to Peter’s voice as you thought up of ways on how to strangle Tony when Peter left.

Thank you so, so much for 300 followers! Took me almost 5 hours to write this, but it was definitely worth it. I love you guys, and you all are what keeps the blog running!

anonymous asked:

Can you do a Jungkook angst scenario based on Adele's Hello? Thank you!!

Hello, It’s Me – Jungkook

Characters: Jungkook X Reader
Rated: S for sad shit sad shit sad shit

The telephone rang, one, two, three times. Jungkook’s fatigued mind listened to the tune, commanded him to close his eyes and to ignore the call; but the melody started all over again. He had had a twenty-four hours shift and his body ached, his body asked, no, his body demanded him to rest and sleep. Rain, a cozy bed and a free morning sounded too perfect, so he fought to open his eyes. He extended his arm to grab the devilish device and the phone stopped his gentle melody.

Before he asked who called, a yawn interrupted him. “Hello. It’s me.” The familiar voice coming from the other side struck him with the force of a sledgehammer cracking an egg.

His body reacted beyond his will; mild shock, increasing hearth beat, full consciousness, and quiescent memories overloaded his senses. He opened his eyes as a reflex, fully awake and regaining his concentration, questioning if this was a dream; or maybe a nightmare. Not in a million years would he expect this call or any call from her. Since when did ghosts use phones?

Jungkook sat on the edge of the bed and he stretched his legs out. After a brief pause, the voice on the phone spoke again. “Hello, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I can hear you.” Jungkook’s voice came fast enough, calm enough and without a trace of hesitation.

“I must’ve called a thousand times. But when I call, you never seem to be home.”

“I’m never at home, with the studio and stuff.” He got missed calls; but he changed her’s contact details to “do not answer” and he obeyed the screen every time; after, he had some “unknown number” missed calls. But he didn’t lie either.

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