how she leans when his hand is on her cheek

Broken Heart

Originally posted by jeffatkinsimagines

The music was blaring loudly from the large speakers in the gym, lights flickering back and forth between different colors of the spectrum, the smell of punch lingered in the air mixed with alcohol that some students had managed to sneak in.

(Y/N) sat on the bleachers with her head down, looking at her short and shiny black heels that were beginning to make her feet ache. Reaching down, she took them off and wiggled her toes for a moment before sighed and leaning back against the bleacher behind her.

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Father’s Day

Dean wakes up when he hears the bedroom door open and finds a short figure peering round the corner. He smiles at his daughter and she runs in to Dean’s side of the bed and climbs up. 

“Happy Father’s Day, daddy!” she whispers, wrapping her arms around Dean’s neck.

“Thank you, Em.” Dean replies and pulls Emma towards him. When Dean looks back up, Claire is at the door looking somewhat awkward with two cups in her hands.

Dean looks over his shoulder to where Cas is unsurprisingly dead to the world. “Your papa’s still asleep, but if that’s coffee, I’m sure it won’t be long until he’s awake. You can come sit on the bed, Claire, it’s okay.” 

Claire smiled and set Dean’s coffee on his nightstand before sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed with Cas’ coffee in her hands. She took a tentative sip and Dean chuckled.

“Dean? What time is it? Do you have coffee?” The words tumbled sleepily out of Cas’ mouth as he rolled over towards Dean. Dean heard Emma giggle in his arms and saw Claire biting her lip trying not to laugh.

“Your daughters are here… with coffee.” Dean explains. Emma wriggles free from Dean’s arms and crawls over Dean. “Oof!” Dean exclaims as he gets a foot to the ribs. Claire laughs properly this time, keeping the coffee steady in her hands. 

Cas sits up, propping up the pillows behind him and cuddling Emma against his side. Claire hands Cas his coffee and he takes it gratefully, taking a sip and smiling at the warming taste. 

“I love you both,” Castiel says, smiling at them.

“Love you too, papa!” Emma shouts a little loud for that early in the morning but he’d never bash her enthusiasm. “Claire tried to make pancakes but she’s not good at them.” Emma admits, wide-eyed and pouting.

“Emmie!” Claire scolds and when Dean looks up to her she looks a little downtrodden. 

“Emma, be nice, okay. I’m sure Claire tried her best.” Dean tells her. “Claire, shall we go and cook some pancakes? I’ll show you how.” Dean asks Claire and she nods, smile returning to her face. 

Dean feels a hand on his and Castiel’s fingers loop within his own and he flashes him a sweet smile. 

“Happy Father’s Day, Cas,” Dean leans over to his husband and presses a kiss to his cheek. He doesn’t miss Emma’s exclamation of grossness but ignores it.

“And to you too, Dean.” 

James Potter is going grey

In honour of the grey hair I found on my head today.

Also here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12391871/1/Going-Grey


When James finally starts going grey, you would have thought the entire bloody world had caught on fire.

It’s Sirius who spots it first, the one shining silver strand in the mass of black hair on James’ head. They’re trooping in, brooms over their shoulders, mud on their quidditch boots, and James has Harry wrapped up under his arm, rubbing his head while Harry laughs at James’ insistence that “You can’t slag off your old man. I would have kicked your arse back in the day.”

“Yeah,” Harry yells, elbowing his father in the side, “back in the day.” Sirius barks a laugh, claps Harry on the back, “Nice one, kid.” James shoots him a glare and he shoves James’ shoulder, “Tough break, mate. Though your kid kicking your arse goes nicely with that grey hair you’ve got there. Very fitting.”

When Lily finds them a few minutes later, Harry is doubled over, barely breathing with laughter, and James and Sirius are nothing more than a tangle of limbs on the now excruciatingly muddy kitchen floor. She pulls out her wand, twirls it deftly between her fingers, calmly threatens to hex them within an inch of their lives if they don’t get up right now and clean the floor.

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Marinette’s heart lurches painfully at his question. In the past several months she’s become expert at the Art of Reading Adrien, and the way that he nervously fiddles with the scarf belies the even voice she hears. She hopes he doesn’t think she’s going to deny him this.

“Close your eyes.”

He complies, and as she twists off the couch to face him, she hears his restrained breathing. 

Scratch nervous, he was terrified. She puts a hand between his shirt collar and his scarf, hoping to ease his nerves as she leans closer and takes him in.

Framed in the red sunlight and his eyelashes grazing his cheeks, he looked serene. Had she not known him, the assumption would have been fair.

Her eyes slide along the strange patches of light thrown across his face and drift down to his mouth.

…How long had she really wanted to do this when she wasn’t busy lying to herself? She tries to push the thought out of her mind as the centimeters between them compress and her bangs mingle with his.

She’d dedicated to memory his laughter at the first stupid meme she’d shown him, the pride in his compliment when she made a bad pun to his face, the way he’d bear hug her at the end of her shift and try to stop her from making it to his door, and the pain that the gesture did little to mask.

She does her best to etch into her memory the brief hitch in his breath as she gently touches her lips to his.

She’d stolen his first kiss.

Protective Barnes

Originally posted by buchanan-barnes

Pairing: Protective!Bucky Barnes x reader
Words: 541
Warning: none. Just some cute fluff.

Summary: Reader’s ex-boyfriend comes back to pick up some things and meets Bucky, her new boyfriend.

I wrote another short one-shot because this idea popped into my head when I saw that gif above and the scene from Gossip Girl. Thanks Carter!


It’s been one month since [Y/N] threw her ex onto the streets of New York City and she was very glad that she did that. There were some guys who were a thousand times better than this asshole she called her boyfriend one month ago.

She was just sitting on the couch in her living room and read one of her favorite books when [Y/N] heard someone unlocking the door. Confused, she looked up from the pages as Ryan stumbled into the room.

“Oh…I had hoped you wouldn’t be…hi” he mumbled and scratched his neck. Sighing, [Y/N] buried her hands in her hair before she looked up again “What do you want here, Ryan?”

“I wanted to pick up the last things of me. My sweats and…the coffee machine. You’re alone?” Ryan put down the carton in his hands when Bucky came out of the bathroom. He was rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and looked at her ex-boyfriend “No…she’s with me”

“Ryan, this is Bucky. My boyfriend” [Y/N] smiled as he leaned over the backrest and gave her a kiss on her cheek. She took his metal hand and stroke with her thumb over the backside of it.

Both saw how Ryan tensed up and his jaw clenched while he was looking at Bucky “Shall I…go or do you want to…?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it for you” [Y/N] grinned sweetly and jumped from the couch. Swiftly she walked to her bedroom and left Ryan alone with Bucky, who was staring at him. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest and looked much bigger and more dangerous now. Ryan tried to avoid his gaze when James turned away and walked into the open kitchen to pour himself a coffee. Slowly, he took a sip from his cup and looked at Ryan “So…I have to thank you, Ryan. Because you were such an ass, I have the honour to love and date this wonderful woman” he winked “but still I would like to give you a lecture in how to treat a woman. Sadly I promised [Y/N] that I wouldn’t kill you so you’re save.”

Before Ryan could say something, [Y/N] came back and threw Ryan’s sweats to him “There you are. Now please leave.” she smiled and went to Bucky, who was sitting next to the counter and raised an eyebrow “You can buy yourself a new coffee machine. We’ll take care of yours”

“Oh and you can leave the keys here. Bucky needs them more than you” [Y/N] nodded to the keys that he was holding in his hands. Muttering he threw them on the couch and left while slamming the door shot.

“You’re so hot when you’re protective” [Y/N] turned her head towards Bucky who put his cup down. He smiled and turned to her so she was standing between his legs while he was sitting on the bar stool. Grinning, James pulled her closer “Well, that’s my job. I will always look after my best girl” She smiled, kissed him softly on his plump lips and wrapped her arms around his neck before he broke the kiss and mumbled “I love you so much, doll”

“Same, Sergeant, same” she grinned and kissed him again.


Finished. I hope you liked it! Leave me some ideas for other one-shots in my ask box or just say hello

i had the weirdest dream so obviously i had to write a fic about it

-

They met at the park. It could have been a meet-cute, except Derek doesn’t do cute so it ended up just being weird.

Derek was taking Nora for a walk like he always does when she decided it would be a good idea to chase a squirrel and practically dragged him around, only stopping when another dog got in her way – probably chasing the squirrel too – and they started growling at each other.

“Hey, man. Control your dog, I’m not ready to be a grandpa!”

“My dog is a female.” Derek said, tried not to stare at the other guy’s hands as he struggled to hold his dog back.

“Well,” the other guy said, “how can you know under all – that.” He gestured towards Nora.

“She’s an Alaskan malamute.” Derek took a step back, dragging Nora away from asshole-guy and his dalmatian. “Much better than a dog that you don’t know if it’s white or black.”

The other guy stopped, looked between Derek and his dog. “How dare you.” He narrowed his eyes. “Leia is beautiful.

“Leia?” Derek asked, smirking. “What happened to creativity these days?”

“I’ll show you creativity.” The guy growled, much like Nora was doing, then took Derek’s hand, dragged him towards a bench and started to list all the reasons he named his dog after Princess Leia.

Nora and Leia ended up getting along fabulously, and as fate would have it, so did their owners.


“Unfair.” Stiles mumbles, watching as Derek heads to the bathroom. “I’m supposed to be going to work. Stop teasing me.”

Derek smirks over his shoulder. “Are you sure? I was going to ask you to join me in the shower.”

Gah.” Stiles says as his dick responds to Derek’s smile. “I hate you.”

Derek laughs. “I know.” He walks into the shower, moans purposefully loud when the hot water hits his body. Stiles yells at him to shut up and seconds later he’s joining Derek under the spray.

“You’re gonna kill me.” He leans in for a kiss, nips at Derek’s bottom lip as he runs his hands over Derek’s wet chest. “Fuck,” he moans when Derek presses him against the wall, rubs their dicks together, “you’re awful.”

Derek bites softly at Stiles’ pulse point, enjoys the moan it elicits from him. He’s always talking, moaning, yelling, seriously, Derek is the one who’s going to die here.

It’s been two months and they aren’t even close to getting tired from each other. It’s still hot, fun and - even more - exciting. Sometimes, in between fixing a car or two, Derek checks his phone, sends messages to Stiles, some of them explicit others just telling him about his day, the awful clients that destroy their cars and ask Derek to perform miracles. Other times, it’s Stiles that calls him, rambles about his dad and Leia, about his friends and what he ate that morning.

They haven’t talked about what they are – if they are something – but Stiles doesn’t seem in a hurry, so Derek isn’t going to force him, as much as he wants to.

Really, Derek’s got it so bad even his boss noticed and he’s seventy.

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100 Reasons Why I Love You – Theo Imagine

Requested by Anon: Can you do a Theo imagine where you are his gf and you always had been there for him, supporting him, defending him, and he never understood why you are still with him after everything he had done. And one night he asks you why love him and you give him like a hundredreason why you love him? i just need something fluff and cute w theo!!

Word Count: 1,293

Warnings: Mentions of sex but no descriptions. one curse word, and FLUFF!!!!!

Author’s Note: Feedback is always appreciated :)

[My Teen Wolf Master List]

Originally posted by hugwithsleep

Y/N sighed in contentment as she snuggled closer to Theo in their shared bed. He had his arms loosely wrapped around her figure, which she found a bit odd. He always held her tight against him, with the intentions of never letting her go and holding on to her for every second possible. Wanting for his affection, she buried her face at the crook of his neck, but got no reaction from him. In fact he was tense. Something was bothering him and she didn’t know how to approach it. Theo had never been good at talking about his feelings.

She slowly and carefully started tracing random shapes on his chest as she peppered his neck with small kisses. “Babe?” Theo hummed in response. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he sighed deeply.

She looked up and quirked an eyebrow at him. “Liar.”

Theo just gave her a small smile, which surprised her even more. She expected him to chuckle, maybe even defend himself, but he didn’t. She knew this was serious.

She gently pulled his chin down, making him look at her. “Talk to me, babe,” she said softly.

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Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard: The Sexuality Crisis

Magnus had never been attracted to boys before, only girls. He could appreciate the aesthetic of them, but never before had he wanted to date one. He was as straight as a rod-always had been, and always will be.

So it wasn’t gay of him to think Alex was cute. She was cute on both her female days and male days. It wasn’t gay at all.

Right?

Or: Magnus has a crisis over whether liking Alex is gay or not and everyone else is facepalming at him.

Read it on AO3 and FanFiction

Magnus was straight.

Sure, he had that period of time where he had questioned his sexuality after learning that heterosexuality wasn’t the only one, but everyone went through that. And by the time it was over, he had decided that he was nothing other than straight. The thought of being anything else never crossed his mind again.

But just because Magnus was straight didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the aesthetic of other guys from time to time. He wasn’t blind, he could tell whether people were attractive or not. And sometimes, those guys were pretty nice to look at for a moment or two longer than necessary. But he never once felt the desire to do anything romantic with them, because he wasn’t attracted to guys. It was as simple as that.

“See something ya like?”

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|| happy father's day ||

Happy Father’s Day!! Let’s celebrate it with a tyl!Peter (ten years later!Peter) drabble ೕ(•̀ᴗ•́)

tags [permanent + peter parker]: @ghostedwolf , @lovelybaka , @animexchocolate, @psychicwitchphilosopher , @pharaohkiller , @moonlight53 , @literatureandimmature, @daydr3am-away, @wannabe-weasley , @mcusebstan , @tmrhollandkay , @pepcvina , @nekonerdxox , @lokigirl18 , @fangeekkk , @kylielo22 , @wavy-ley , @lghockey , @buckysendoftheline , @1022bridgetp , @potterjamesharry , @aenna-4 , @mcheung0314 , @samanthasmileys , @melconnor2007 , @wingsanddarkness

**please don’t repost/plagiarize this story. Reblogs are fine**

——

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The Rowcan smut is here!

Well my friends. This has been a labor of love. I have literally never written a thing in my life, but I had this bug in my head that wouldn’t get out and I decided to give it a try as an early birthday present to @lu-cien (love of my life)

I tried to find the other people who wanted to be tagged in this? Maybe??@readinglikewildfire @catastrophicallyinlovewithbooks @deziremyacotar@highladyofidris

Without further ado…

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tangled ribbons, ch14: encore

on Ao3 | on ffnet
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

surprise?

(Why We’re Here explanation on ao3) this chapter adds nothing new to the plot. it makes a few clarifications to ch13 but the plot of this story is finished. if you don’t want to read it, nothing will change (takes place a few months after ch13 btw)

also? it’s tangled ribbons’ one year anniversary. thank you to everyone who stuck with it and was so incredibly supportive

so here we are. back again for one finally hurrah, one final encore, and one final bow

i hope you enjoy


encore (n.) - french, a repeated or additional performance of an item at the end of a concert, as called for by an audience


Adrien squeezes his way through all the parents and loved ones and dancers covered in makeup and sweat. He hadn’t actually expected Nathalie to stay longer than expected so this is—

He doesn’t want to keep Nathalie waiting.

Plagg gives him a small salute as he finally gets through the crowd and backstage. Adrien would ask how Nathalie was even allowed backstage, but restrictions like those don’t seem to exist for her. She’s always able to get backstage if she needs to.

“She’s in your dressing room,” Tikki says without being prompted. “She hasn’t been there long, don’t worry.” She ruffles Adrien’s hair as he passes.

Adrien bats her hand away and smooths his hair back down, knowing that whatever gel is left in it has probably left it looking like a particularly inventive hairstyle. He shoots Tikki a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

“Break a leg,” Plagg teases as Adrien turns down the hall.

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Feedback

Sometimes you just gotta write your version of the finale of a show before it actually airs because you’re not sure you’re going to be able to handle the actual version of it.


“Talk to your mom yet?”

Clarke’s head jerks up from the radio in her hands, nearly dropping it in surprise. She rolls her eyes, hiding both her guilty expression and the immediate comfort she feels in his presence.

“Yep.” She can’t muster up much else. She’d become an expert at goodbyes at this point, the exact moment in the back-and-forth to switch off the part of her that was trying hang on to any ounce of stability it could find. However, she’d allowed herself to slip a bit, the conversation over the crackling radio to her mother, the person she’s said “final” goodbyes to the most. Recently, her vulnerability had been rearing its head more and more as the world began to end. Swell timing, she’d thought morosely.

“She take it well?”

Another example of Bellamy’s quick wit. Normally, it was a comfort to her, a reminder that there was someone to meet every sigh, every worry, every dilemma with a mind that existed on just the same wavelength. Someone who could somehow pull her back from tumbling into her darkest places with a few words that put a fraction of a smile on her face and a much more significant warmth in her chest.

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Nobody Said it Was Easy

Summary: The Apocalypse is going strong and Dean finds himself stuck with an insanely difficult decision. The only option he sees that they have left is for him to say yes to Michael. Before he leaves though he decides a good idea to have one last night with Y/N before leaving her and Sammy behind.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Bobby Singer, Michael, Lucifer, Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, language, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex (use a condom!!), spoilers from season five, angst, fighting, Dean being a dick. 

Word Count: 4,998

A/N: This is my entry for @nichelle-my-belle 4K Angst challenge. I’ve never written a season five Dean before so I figure this would be fun! My prompt was 4. His words shattered her as though her as if her heart was porcelain and her love was a lie.  This is told through third person point of view. I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I liked writing it!

Originally posted by coupleaims

Originally posted by whoeveryoulovethemost



The world was going to end, and it felt like no matter what Sam, Dean and Y/N did there was no way to stop it. Sitting in the motel room Y/N let out a heavy sigh, running her hands over her face. God didn’t want to help them, he felt like the apocalypse was not his fault. Who could blame him thought, technically it wasn’t his fault at all. There really was no one to blame for this. Dean was in Hell, Y/N was hunting trying to forget about him, and Sam was being manipulated by Ruby. It felt more like this damn path was set out for them rather than them choosing it.

There was no way this was going to end well for any of them. People were going to die, probably one of their friends or make shift family. They’d already lost Jo and Ellen and countless other hunters. It was only a matter of time before one of them bit the dust, and they couldn’t afford that. All hands were needed on deck, they needed to but ten thousand percent effort into stopping the end of the world. But as much as they hoped and prayed they could win this fight, they were running out of options. Things were looking bleak and there wasn’t a lot they could do at this point.   

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we live for love

We Live For Love

It was a short ride on the 6 train to Canal Street – just steps from Claire’s fourth floor walk-up apartment on Mott Street.

“It’s not much,” she told him, voice echoing in the stairwell, laughing at how his guitar case bounced off the narrow walls. “But it’s been a sanctuary for me.”

“I didn’t realize you lived so close to the social club,” he replied, nodding a hello to the old, wizened woman who appeared at one of the doorways.

“Claire!” she exclaimed. “How are you? And who is *this*?”

Claire stooped to give the woman a quick hug. “Hi, Mrs. Fitz – this is Jamie. He’s the guitar player in my band.”

Mrs. Fitz raised one faded eyebrow. “Oh, is he? Well, Claire – you’ve certainly done well for yourself! Accomplishing your dreams, and meeting this nice-looking man…”

“We’re going to rehearse a bit – I hope it won’t bother you?” Jamie interrupted.

“Oh! No! I’ll be fine!”

Then she winked at Claire. “You have a good night, now!”

Claire took Jamie’s hand and pulled him up the final flight of stairs – not wanting to look at him. Not wanting to talk about it.

God, they *had* to talk about it. About whatever – this – was between them.

Jamie swallowed as Claire unlocked her door and pushed it open. The lyrics of the song – she was a smart woman. She would figure it out instantly.

And then what?

Claire flicked the lightswitch, revealing a small, dated, but very cozy apartment. The door opened to her living room – a couch, dining table, battered TV, and easy chair. A small kitchen curved off to the right – and what had to be her bedroom and bathroom off to the left.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked softly.

He licked his lips. “Um – no. No thanks. Where can I set up?”

He set down his guitar case and slipped out of his leather jacket, laying it gently on the couch.

“I’ll make us some tea – it helps relax my voice after a long day. And why don’t you get set up at the table? I won’t be long.”

She flitted into the kitchen and he heard her turn on the stove, fishing around in the cupboard.

He wasn’t a tea drinker – but he’d do anything for her.

As he sifted in his guitar case, his eyes darted around the apartment.

Posters of art adorned the walls – the Impressionists, mostly. Promotional posters from her favorite Broadway shows, too. And a bookshelf crammed with all kinds of books – musical scores, science fiction novels, cookbooks. With a few framed photographs.

Everything was small – compact. Comfortable.

He lay the three pieces of paper side by side. The sweat on his thumb smudged the notes he’d penciled in the margins.

And there she was, holding two steaming mugs, smiling at him.

She set the mugs in the middle of the table, pushing one over to him.

“Thanks.”

He cleared his throat.

“So – I’ve been writing for a while. All kinds of songs – rock songs, jazz songs, blues songs. But none of them are right for you, Claire. None are right for your voice – or for what the band is doing.”

She wrapped her hands around her mug, sipping her tea. Waiting.

“So I wrote this song for you, Claire. I – I’ve never shared it with anyone before. But I think it’s perfect for you. And I think we should show it to MacNab tomorrow, and I’ll be damned if he won’t let us record it.”

Her cheeks flushed – from the tea, or his words, he couldn’t say.

But he *could* start to play. So he clenched his fingers, settled his guitar on his knees, and played the song.

He didn’t need the papers spread out in front of him – for he had played the song so many times already.

It was raw, to be sure. Would be very different when they played with the band, compared to the acoustic guitar he was using. And his voice was more than an octave below hers.

But it would work.

Eight bars of intro – then he began to sang.

Your love’s contagious // One kiss is dangerous

But I have more to risk // Than you to lose

I feel a passion growing

I know that love is only just one inch away from striking us

His voice rose into the chorus – the chorus he knew she would sing so beautifully.

We live for love

We live for love

We live for love

We live for love

Jamie’s eyes bore into Claire’s. She had set down her tea – one hand covering her mouth, the other resting on her heart.

Two more bars – then the next verse.

When we get tired // And watch the summer fade away

Will you think of romance? // What will we do?

Is there a place where we can go?

Where time stands still for those who know?

Till eternity we’ll fulfill our desires

Then the chorus again. And Claire – beautiful, strong, courageous Claire – began singing in harmony with him.

We live for love

We live for love

We live for love

We live for love

He didn’t have a third verse – couldn’t think of how to continue.

Not when she was singing with him – singing the words he had written for her.

He strummed his guitar, hoping he hadn’t made a big mistake, watching her.

Hoping with every fiber in his being that he hadn’t screwed up.

So finally he ended – plucking all six strings with a flourish.

And for an eternity she stared at him – not moving.

Then – slowly, dreamlike – she stood, and walked over to him. Reached out one hand to caress his cheek. He leaned into the palm of her hand, closing his eyes.

And she bent to kiss him.

Sometime later, Claire woke, untangled herself from Jamie’s arms, slipped his t-shirt over her bare shoulders, and staggered to the bathroom.

Quickly she fumbled for the lipstick on the sink, scribbling on the mirror.

Jamie sleepily padded in a few minutes later, yawning, wrapping his arms around her middle and pulling her to nestle against him, squinting at the mirror.

“I wrote the third verse,” she said softly, gasping a bit as he sucked on her neck.

“Mm?” he asked, grinding his pelvis against the small of her back. “Read it to me?”

She sighed, so happy.

I never planned to win the race

But you convinced me face to face

There was never a chance of losing at all

“Never a chance, hmm?” he murmured in her ear.

“Never.” She turned in his arms – taking in his tousled hair and the stubble on his chin.

This man was perfection – in every way.

“There was never a chance of us not ending up right here, right now. Together.”

He smiled. His heart raced under her fingertips as he bent down for a long, slow, sweet kiss.

“I love you, Claire.” He framed her face in his hands, eyes boring into hers. “I love you. I pledge myself to you. I will be whatever you need. I will be by your side always.”

“Even when I want to kick your ass, and yell and scream at you?” she teased.

“Even then. Especially then.”

She lifted her arms – and he helped her out of his t-shirt. She jumped into his arms – and clung to him as he walked them back to bed, kissing madly all the way.

Rob MacNab looked to Murtagh FitzGibbons and Joe Abernathy.

Jamie and Claire took a small bow, exhilarated from their first performance of “We Live For Love.”

The three older men nodded to each other – and clapped.

They finally had a bona fide hit for their bona fide rock and roll singer.

Ian and Willie whooped with joy.

And Claire – not caring – leaned over to kiss Jamie’s smile.

“We Live For Love” was the debut single – and raced up the charts to become the fastest-selling number one record of 1981.

They toured the northeast – and then the country – and then the world.

The album produced hit after hit after hit.

They played sold-out crowds, with thousands of men and women screaming and cheering for them. Singing with them.

Especially the final song in their set every night – the one that Jamie always introduced with the same words: “You know what this song is – and it’s a favorite of ours, because it’s the first I wrote for her.”

Her – Claire Fraser.

His muse – his light.

His wife.


Pat Benatar - We Live For Love. The first song written for her by her guitarist - and later husband - Neil Giraldo. They’ve been married since 1982. This story is based on their story.

TEENAGE RUNAWAYS [SIRIUS BLACK]

request: “Hiiii I was wondering if you could a Sirius Black!reader fluff along the lines of number 9 on your prompt list? If not it’s no problem! Love your blog ❤’ — by anon

a/n: thank you! 💖

9. "For a minute there, I thought you didn’t know how to smile.”

Masterlist + Request here!

     Sirius Black has been hoping to see Y/N as he carefully climbs the steps towards the Owlery, where just as he suspected, a girl with y/h/c colored hair was petting a grey owl, a parchment clutched inside her free hand while he heard her draw out a heavy sigh. Up close, he could see that her eyebrows were furrowed and that her lips were pursed, in obvious distress for a reason he was yet to know.

     She suddenly turned her head sideways when Sirius accidentally stepped on a twig, and a smile made its way to her features as if she wasn’t just frowning a second ago.

     "For a minute there, I thought you didn’t know how to smile.“ said Sirius, casually approaching her with a similar curved mouth on his face.

     Y/N chuckled to herself. "Well, what can I say? You bring out the best in me.”

      Sirius opened his arms and she sighed, accepting his offer. She wrapped her own arms around his torso and buried her head on his chest, inhaling the scent of him that calmed her nerves. It seemed like just by the sight of him, anything could turn happier in an instant. He was indeed living up to his name and acting as a star in Y/N’s life that was full of darkness.

     He gently pressed a kiss on her head. “What are you doing here? You didn’t even bother to eat breakfast and it’s the last day of school.”

     She pulled away and brought out the letter that she was holding. “I was actually about to send this to my mum. It’s about me not going home anymore — ever.”

     He widened his eyes. “What?”

     "I can’t take it anymore, Sirius.“ said Y/N with an exasperated frown. "She’s like your mother too, you know. She doesn’t even care about me, to be completely honest. Last summer was hell and all she did was call me names, scold me for not being like her, telling me how I’ve been a complete disgrace, and that I didn’t even deserve to bear their name!”

    Sirius frowned, “But where will you go?”

    “To my Aunt Tess for the meanwhile. She understands me and she was actually pleased when I told her. Told me that she ran away herself when she was at my age.”

     "Wow.“ said Sirius. "You really have everything planned out, do you?”

     She smirked. “Not that much but compared to your scandalous fleet, it is more organized and impressive.”

     He chuckled, leaning down and attaching his lips onto hers. Y/N smiled against the kiss, placing a hand on his cheek before affectionately stroking it as she pulls him closer, much to Sirius’ pleasure and amusement. They broke free after a few more seconds of getting lost in each other’s worlds, Y/N’s smile wider than before.

     "Maybe when we’re older, we could live together.“ she whispered, quite shy for proposing the idea.

     "Are you sure you want to live with a bloke like me?” asked Sirius with a goofy smirk.

     She rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms around his waist once again. “Wouldn’t imagine myself with someone else more like.”

    Sirius’ smirk faded and suddenly he was looking at her differently. Y/N was afraid that maybe she has gone too far and that he wasn’t really ready to hear those kind of words coming from her yet; but then a grin was back on his face once again, his hand reaching out to the strands of hair on her face, pushing it lightly away to get a good look at her eyes.

    “I could never agree more, love. I mean, if it weren’t for the fact that we’re too young, I’d propose to you right now.” said Sirius, wiggling his brows in a teasing manner.

    Y/N slapped his chest playfully. “What makes you think I want to marry you?”

     "Other than what I just heard about you not seeing yourself with someone else?“ he teased further more. "Well, let’s face it, you’re crazy for me.”

     "Of course, I am.“ she laughed, stepping backwards from their embrace to walk towards her owl.

     Sirius laughed as well and followed after her, hugging Y/N from behind instead. He watched as she tied the letter to the owl’s leg before giving it a soft pat, the owl hooting and launching itself out of the owlery. Y/N placed her hand over his, leaning on Sirius while the boy tightened his hold.

     "Sirius?” she called.

     He breathed in the fragrance of her hair. “Yes?”

     "If we do get married and you know, have kids …“ trailed Y/N. "Promise me we’ll be better parents than our own. I wouldn’t want my daughter feeling this way because of me.” she murmured the last part so quietly that if they weren’t so close, he wouldn’t have the chance to hear what she just said.

     "I promise, darling.“ Sirius kissed her temple. "We’ll be the best and the coolest, most understanding parents in the world.”

     They both laughed to themselves, enjoying each other’s company once more, their eyes still looking out ahead where the owl was now no longer in sight.

I uh, I wrote some feel-good ironfalcon ‘cause I know @bloody-bee-tea doesn’t get enough of it and it’s also Tony’s birthday so. Hope everyone likes it. (Happy birthday, Tony!!!!)


Steve had a date. Sam and Bucky razzed him the entire run.

“Jesus Christ, this is what I get for telling you guys?” Steve complained. “I’m just never telling you I have a date again.”

“We’re only teasing you because it’s been so long for you,” Bucky explained. “Loser.”

“You don’t get to call him an loser. You hate running,” Sam pointed out.

Bucky shrugged. “Well, I guess I’m used to it.”

“He’s mad because it’s thrown him off schedule and now he has to wait for The View to come on,” Steve said.

“I haven’t watched The View since Barbara left, asshole!”

Sam shrugged. “I mean it’s whatever for me. Now I get to go home and surprise Tony.”

“Uuugh,” Steve and Bucky groaned.

“You’re just jealous that Tony chose me!” Sam said, grinning, then yelped when Steve shoved him and he tripped into the pond. “Fuck!

Steve gaped at him for a moment before taking off at a sprint.

“Steve what the fuck?!” Sam shouted after him.

“He was probably afraid you’d punch him in the face,” Bucky said. “I would.”

Sam sloshed his way out of the pond, sputtering. “He could have at least helped me out!”

Bucky shielded his eyes from the sun. “Holy shit he’s gone.”

“That guy,” Sam hissed, half pissed off and half amused.


Sam was slightly less damp when he squished back to the penthouse. Ugh. Now he had to shower before he surprised Tony. Tony was a heavy sleeper but he was also somehow acutely aware of when Sam was getting in the shower. (Sam was not opposed to Tony following him into the shower but sometimes he just wanted to press Tony back into the pillows and take him apart piece by piece.)

Sam opened the door to their bedroom carefully, holding his breath.

He felt like it’d been punched out of him when he saw Tony sitting on the bed, trying to squeeze one stocking-covered foot into a pastel pink pump.

Tony set both of his feet on the floor, heels clicking as he walked over to the mirror. The stockings on his legs were a shiny white, clinging to the muscles of his calves and thighs, and held up by a lacy white garter belt. He was wearing what looked to be pink satin panties underneath it, though knowing Tony, it could have been actual silk. Tony picked up a delicate-looking chemise in the same powder-pink as his shoes and carefully pulled it over his head, letting the hem flutter down to cover the belt and panties.

He was beautiful.

As Sam watched, Tony carefully ran his hands down his sides, smoothing the chemise against his body before letting it fall away again. He turned in a circle, heels clicking against the floor probably more than necessary, keeping his eyes on the mirror as long as he could before spinning to lock eyes on it again. He smiled at the way the hem fluttered before falling back against his thighs.

Sam forgot that he was leaning on the door and fell face-first onto the floor with a grunt. He heard a yelp and then the thud of something else hitting the floor. “…Ow.”

“Sam!” Tony squeaked, trying to skitter to his feet again, but apparently standing up from the floor in heels was much harder than standing up from the bed. “I didn’t—You’re home early!”

“Yeah, Steve pushed me into the pond and ran away,” Sam answered, clambering to his feet. “So Bucky let me call the run short so I could come home and shower.” He gave Tony another long once-over. On the floor like this, knees splayed, Sam could just barely see the panties peeking out from under the hem of the chemise. “…You look nice.”

Tony blushed brightly, hands curling into fists against the floor. “I—Yes?”

“Is there a special occasion or something?”

Tony grabbed the hem of his chemise, twisting it in his hands anxiously, unable to draw his eyes up from his knees. “Sometimes—sometimes, when you go on your runs, I… I like to feel pretty. So. Um. I dress up. Just for a little while.”

Sam stepped up to him and held his hands out. “Pretty? Sweetheart, you’re gorgeous. Were you afraid I wouldn’t like it?”

Tony took his hands and let himself be tugged onto his feet, rocking precariously on his heels for a terrifying moment and leaning into Sam to catch his balance. “…I mean… I know it’s weird,” he said quietly.

Sam nearly choked. “It’s not weird! You’re beautiful! God—Can I touch you?”

“I—” Tony finally lifted his gaze, brows furrowed together in confusion. “I guess so.”

Any other time, Sam really would have pushed for a firmer answer. Now, he couldn’t help himself; he grabbed Tony by the waist and dragged him closer, pulling him up against his body. The chemise was silky and cool under his fingers. “You didn’t need to hide this from me, Tony. You have no reason to be ashamed of something that makes you feel good and doesn’t hurt anyone else. God, you’re gorgeous. I don’t—I don’t even know where to look—”

“Sam,” Tony complained, pushing at his shoulders. “You’re getting me wet!

Sam began pressing kisses to Tony’s throat and jaw. “Good.

“Not—not sexy wet, you’re gonna ruin my nighty!” Tony squirmed. “And you smell like the po—oh,” he mewled when Sam bit down on the tendon in his neck. “Sam-!”

“’m gonna take a shower,” Sam murmured in his ear. “And you’re gonna wait out here for me, okay?”

Tony’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment before he forced them open again. “Or I could come with you—”

“Or you could lie out here waiting for me while I take a record-breakingly short shower and then let me have my way with the world’s sexiest man alive,” Sam suggested, sliding his hands down and around to cup Tony’s rear, feeling the garter belt through the chemise. “Do you have more of these?”

Tony blushed again, eyes rolling toward the ceiling so he didn’t have to look at Sam. “I have, um. A few boxes. Of stuff. These are my only pumps I own though.”

Sam gives Tony’s butt a squeeze, admiring the way the heels make it so much more pert. “You don’t have to hide this from me,” he told Tony gently. “I love you—all of you. And if you like to feel pretty, I will support you.”

“Well,” Tony mumbled shyly. He took a step back, looking at his feet. “If you say so.”

“I do say so,” Sam said, pressing a kiss to Tony’s forehead. “I’m gonna go shower. Don’t run away now.”

Tony rolled his eyes and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I haven’t run away from a bedroom since I was nineteen. Especially not mine.”

“Well, if you say so,” Sam parroted back at him, pausing in the doorway to the bathroom. “Hey.”

Tony turned to look at him with a questioning noise, hand halfway down to pull one of his pumps off. “Hmm?”

“Keep those on.” Sam smirked. “I wanna feel those heels digging into my back.”

Tony let out a startled, high-pitched sound as he stepped into the bathroom and shut the door.


“How did you like your party?” Sam asked softly.

Tony smiled into his pillow. “It was nice. I especially liked meeting Sharon and telling her that her boyfriend shoved my boyfriend into a pond and ran.”

Sam grinned. “I liked the color Steve turned when Sharon judged him.”

“I like Sharon. I hope she sticks around.”

“Me too.” Sam leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “Okay but I have one last present.”

Tony sat up immediately, smiling brightly, even as he said, “You didn’t have to do that!”

Sam snorted as the brunet gave him grabby hands and pulled the box he’d been hiding out from under the bed. “No, no, I insist you accept it.” He put it in Tony’s outstretched hands. “I hope you like them.”

“Of course!” Tony said, pulling the ribbon open. “It’s from you!”

“Every time you say something like that, I fall even more in love with you,” Sam informed him.

Tony scoffed, trying to hide the way his cheeks went pink as he pulled the paper open. “I already said I’d like them, you flatterer. Oh!” He paused, hands hovering over the beautiful powder blue heels in the box. “…Oh.”

“JARVIS helped me with the size,” Sam explained as he watched Tony’s fingers trail over one beautiful blue arch. “I hope you like them.”

“Oh, Sam,” Tony breathed, then turned abruptly, pulling off his socks.

“Hey, you don’t have to put them now—” Sam began.

Tony already had the shoes in hand and was carefully pulling the first shoe on. “Sam, they’re perfect—Oh, JARVIS, I need matching panties!”

“Tony,” Sam laughed, sitting up. “You don’t need to—”

Tony got to his feet and took a few experimental steps around before turning to look at his feet in the mirror. “They’re gorgeous. Oh, Sam-!” He turned, flushed with pleasure. “This is the nicest gift anyone has ever gotten me.” He waited for Sam to shift around so his legs were over the edge of the bed so he could stand between them, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you, Sam.”

Sam reached up to cup his cheeks. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Tony crawled back onto the bed, straddling his lap. “Hey, Sam?”

“Hmm?” Sam murmured, reaching down to pull Tony’s shirt out of his pants.

Tony leaned back, looking down at him through his lashes. “If you want to pick out something other than shoes, you can.”

Sam hummed, sliding his hands under Tony’s shirt and stroking up and down his back. “That’s really nice, Tony. Anything I want?”

“Anything you want,” Tony agreed quietly.

“What about a birthday cake?”

Tony paused, then leaned back, raising an eyebrow. “A birthday cake.”

“Yeah. For my birthday. I want you to jump out of a cake wearing nothing but the shoes I bought you.”

Tony smiled widely. “And people accuse me of being a deviant. Do you want me to do it in front of the others?”

“Nope!” Sam said, popping the P. “Just me.” He slid his hands around to unclasp Tony’s slacks. “On second thought, don’t jump out of a cake. Just be waiting in bed for me.”

“Hmm… I could do that,” Tony said thoughtfully. He played with the hair on Sam’s nape idly. “I… yeah, I could do that.” He paused. “…I can still get you something else too, right? I’ve kinda already started making it.”

Sam snorted. “Of course you have. Don’t worry, Pepper’s already told me about the giant bunny you got her for Christmas.”

Tony bounced in his lap excitedly. “You’re gonna like it, I swear! I put it past Pepper and Rhodey!”

Sam laughed and pulled him down for another kiss. “My birthday isn’t for four months!”

“I started it two months ago!” Tony began brightly. “It’s—”

“Nooo I wanna be surprised!” Sam exclaimed, covering his mouth with one hand. “Can’t we just have birthday sex and you don’t spoil your own surprise for me?”

“Aw,” Tony said, shoulders sagging, but he nodded. “I guess.

Sam snorted again. “Poor you, having to have sex instead of spoiling my birthday present that you’re going to give me in four months.

“Boo,” Tony complained. “It’s gonna be super awesome and you’re gonna love it.”

“Oh no, I guess I’ll just have to keep having sex with you to keep the secret from being spoiled,” Sam drawled. “A true hardship.”

“True hard-dick-up-my-ass.”

“Tony that didn’t even make sense!” Sam exclaimed, trying not to laugh and mostly failing.

Tony smiled and leaned down to smother his laughs with a kiss. “Happy birthday to me!”

It’s storming terribly here, and I had a thought that won’t budge.

**

You jolt awake when you hear the loud clap of thunder that shakes the house.

You’re also very aware your 4 week old baby across the hall was startled awake as well.

You flipped the covers back, but the moment you did, Harry was out of the bed.

He had ran through door way, and you heard him coo and tell the baby, “sh, it’s okay, daddy’s got you.”

You smiled at how quick he had gotten up to comfort and rescue your child.

He entered the room with the baby against his chest, and he stood by his side of the bed.

“I want her in here tonight.” He said, his voice laced with sleep and protective daddy mode written on his face.

You hold out your hands to take the small human into your arms and smile at how she’s already asleep.

You placed the baby between you and Harry and he immediately wrapped her small hand around his finger.

“Thank you for getting her.”

He shrugged and examined the sleeping baby between the two of you.

“I don’t like how scared she sounded.” he spoke quietly. “I don’t wanna hear her cry, anytime, but this one was heart breaking.”

You chuckled and leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“At least she will always know who to go to when she’s scared.”

He nodded, and kept his eyes on her.

“Now, go to sleep, Daddy. This baby needs her rest and this mommy is exhausted.”

#TotallyPlatonic

Thanks to @doctor-molly-hooper-holmes for her hashtag :-)

*****************************

“You know what I want.”

Molly’s grinning at him from the other end of the sofa.

“Come on, Sherlock!” she coos, poking him with her bare foot. “I told you: you know what I want…”

“No,” he says crisply, turning his attention back to his copy of Pathology Today. “I don’t feel like it.”

Molly and her Feminine Wiles will not be indulged, he tells himself. Not tonight.

He must put his foot down, or all is lost.  

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Night Time Fun (Dean x Reader)

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader 

Length: 1014+ words

TW: Condoms

A/N: This just came to me in the middle of the night, and I wrote it literally in 15 minutes. I’ve been so bad with writing Hamilton fics, and I just keep writing Dean fics… I seriously gotta get my Ham jam back. 


“Dean?” she whispered, opening his door a bit, letting the dark room be illuminated by the hallway light. “Dean?”

The man groaned, recognizing her voice, and buried his head in his pillow.

“Dean-”

“What?” he snapped, turning his head to her.

“Sorry to bug you, but can I borrow some condoms?”

His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Please? I just need a few.”

“A few?! Why the fuck do you need a few condoms?”

“Please, Dean? I know you have a bunch!” She made her way to his bedside drawer, opening the top shelf, and grabbing a few of the packets in her hands. “You don’t mind, right?”

Dean took a few deep breaths. They’ve been playing a game of cat and mouse these past few months, tip-toeing on the border of friendship, and something more. God, he wanted so much more. But he couldn’t. Not without absolute certainty that he wouldn’t be rejected, and even then, it would take a lot for him to put that kind of pressure on her. He wouldn’t do it. Nope. He could never ever tell her of his feelings towar-

“I like you,” he blurted out.

Well… At least he told her.

“What?” She looked taken aback.

“Fuck. I didn’t think I would ever tell you this, but I like you… A lot. So, please don’t go to that guy with those condoms- please don’t- please don’t fuck him, don’t- I know it’s not fair, and if you really want to I won’t stop you, but please don’t.” He ran his hand through his hair, the word vomit he just threw up wasn’t enough to physically showcase his frustration.

“Dean,” she said a little more quietly this time.

He sighed, turning his head away, and taking her silence for rejection. “Sorry for ruining your night, sweetheart. You can go see him. I won’t say anything else, and we can forget this whole conversation happened.” Dean could hear her footsteps approaching the door, and his heart sank. There was a part of him that wished- no, prayed, that he wasn’t reading the signals wrong. That she might actually like him back. That he actually had a chance with her. Alas, some prayers weren’t meant to be answered. That is, until he felt his jeans hit him right in the face. “What the fuck?”

“C’mon,” she motioned for him to follow her. Her eyes gleaming with mischief and excitement. “Get up! I wanna show you something.”

“No.”

“Dean, c’mon. Please? I’ll make this worth your time!”

There was no force in the world that would make him say no to her. So, he sluggishly got out of bed, putting on his jeans, and picking up his jacket while following her out of his bedroom. They were just leaving the bunker when she spoke again.

“Do you wanna use those condoms with me?”

Keep reading