i miss her two toned hair

Run away - part 2 of Forbidden

think i promised to tag @kiwikriis for this update. hope you like it! 

Originally posted by solo-harry

lawd, my precious little bean. 

warning: contains sexual content 

The wedding date is close. In less than a week. With each passing day, Y/N felt more and more nervous. Her father wanted to rush this marriage for many reasons. Some that are unknown to everyone. The reasons only Y/N knows about when she overheard him talking to the kingdom’s council. 

Their plan was set. Harry and her were going to run away three days before the wedding. They would leave at dawn. This was because the castle won’t be guarded as much as it will be on the night before the wedding.  

The only people who knew about their plan to run away was the kitchen boy, Niall and the other guard, Louis. When Y/N and Harry told them about their plan, Louis and Niall thought they were absolutely crazy; that it was going to be an extremely risky plan considering how guarded the palace was. But they were still going to help them escape nonetheless because they know how much the two love each other and that it would tear them apart inside and out if they have to separate.

Keep reading

Made For Each Other A.I.

Anon requested:  41 and 57 w frat boy ashton? (:

Before you read it, I need to tell you something. A few days ago I posted that I had some problems with the blog on the computer and stuff and I tried everything but it still doesn’t work, so I’m very sorry. And, to add to my problems, I am having health issues at the moment and I am feeling very bad, so I can’t write as much as I want to, this is why this one shot and the requested ones I have in my inbox are  so late sorry. I’ll try my best to write and post but I can’t promise anything. Again, I am sorry. Hope you like this Frat Boy Ashton au. 

Word Count: 644

Masterlist/ Requests/ Prompts (the prompts are not mine)

My bed felt excessively big that night. Y/N and I would always sleep cuddling together, even though the rules of my fraternity didn’t allow it. But my frat friends didn’t mind it.

Y/N had a really big fight about our differences between our futures. I wanted to stay here, in Australia, and have a family with her. But she wanted to travel and visit every country. She wanted family, but in a late future. I didn’t want to wait until I’m forty to have kids. So, after some yelling and crying, we ended up sleeping alone, in our respective dorms.

I felt awful. I hated fighting with her, it always made us not talk to each other for a few days and all I wanted was to hug her. I wanted her letting me be the little spoon, with her hand playing softly with my hair as she loves to do.

As her boyfriend, I knew that calling her at two a.m. wouldn’t help the situation I was in, but I missed her like crazy. And we needed to make up; going to sleep mad with her was disturbing my peace and we swore that we would never go to sleep being mad at each other.

After dialing her number and hearing a few tones, I heard her husky voice on the other line.

“Who in hell would wake someone up at one in the fucking morning?” She wouldn’t swear, only when she was extremely pissed off.

“Y/N, it’s me.”

“Ashton? What happened?” It was weird for me to call her so I assumed she thought something must have been wrong.

“I miss you. I can’t sleep and I need you. I screwed it up, it was so stupid. Just wanted to apologize. And hear your voice.” I heard a sniffle when my voice cracked. We were both hurting and stubborn, but we both wanted to be with each other.

“I miss you too. We both screwed up, don’t worry. Couples fight and make up.” Her voice didn’t sound like she was convinced, I was.

“Can I go to your dorm? I can’t sleep without you in my arms.”

“Yes but hurry. I can’t sleep either.” With that we hung up and I threw some clothes on and went out of the door.

In less than twenty minutes we were in her bed, under some soft blankets, cuddled with our chests touching.

Her fingers were tracing invisible figures in my chest, her lips were pouting. We had said sorry to each other and we had made up, but we still felt a little sad.

“I missed this, having you in my arms. I know it’s cheesy and it was just for a few hours.”

“It is cheesy.” I earned some of her soft chuckles that I loved hearing. “Don’t worry. I missed it too. Can I ask you one thing, though?”

I caressed her cheek with my fingers, and nodded.

“Do you think we were made for each other? You want kids now and I don’t want them now. I want to travel everywhere and you want to stay here. How are we going to work out?” I heard her voice trembling, just like her body. Seeing her like that broke my heart, I hugged her knowing that not only she needed it, but I also did. With our foreheads touching and our lips touching slightly, I answered trying to be as honest as possible.

“I do think that we are made for each other, darling. Being made for each other doesn’t mean that we have to think the same things always, or like the same things. With talking and understanding each other, respecting each other and loving each other, we will work everything out. I love you more than anything, Y/N, and nothing will ever change that.”

“Ashton Fletcher Irwin, I love you.”

The Story of Us

PROLOGUE || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 

Chapter Twelve: Happy You’re Here

Word Count: 1675

✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮

After a telling conversation with Jed Sunday evening and a very emotional phone call with her parents, Riley finally passes out in her room. 

The following morning it’s a knock at Riley’s door that wakes her. The brunette stirs in bed. She feels completely drained, quite the contrast from the revitalising sleep she had the night before last.

Jedediah pokes his head through the door. “Time to get up for school, Riley.” He says softly. “I’ll drive you today.” 

Keep reading

Savages (5)

Bucky&Steve x reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, stress, threesome(s), graphic male-female and male-male sexual acts

(The admission)

Savages (1) Savages (2) Savages (3) Savages (4)

Originally posted by ariesw1493

Summary: As a high-end fashion designer you’re living an extensively comfortable life. When your relationship of six years ends, you’re not too happy to see your newly-ex on the arm of another woman directly after; which is part of the reason you don’t mind running in to two men, who seem to have some exciting plans with you. As a woman who always gets what she wants, you immediately recognise men who are used to that exact same thing, and you’re more than happy to be the one to put them in their place.

Keep reading

Baby, New York City: Chapter Five (Biadore) - Boleyn

AN: HELLO WORLD. I HAVE RETURNED. I’m so sorry this took me over a month to get to y'all!! Life got super hectic and I felt so absolutely overwhelmed and unmotivated but I’m here and here is the next chapter! Thank you so much to everyone that’s been keeping this little story in their thoughts. Y'all pushed me to keep going! I hope you enjoy!!

Chapter Five: Workplace Distractions and Stage Time Together

Keep reading

[Mark] Teacher’s Pet (Chapter 112)

All Chapters

Warning: Violence. Explicit violence.

A/N: I don’t want you guys to think I’m rushing to the end just to get it over with. It seemed better to me to evoke their situation and what hapenned in between that in flashbacks, rather than make two short chapters with months apart.

A month passes after our dinner, and I keep getting more pregnant. Things got a tiny bit difficult, especially at night. Most of the time I toss and turn for hours, never finding the right position, and then I get hot. Sometimes, pillows help. I sleep with four additional pillows, one between my legs, one under my belly, one tucked under my side, and I hug one. Oh, and belly and back sleeping have become old memories. My blood can’t circulate well when I’m on my back. I get short of breath and dizzy. 

Sex has become…strange. I crave it. More than food sometimes, it’s become a long process of deciding where to put pillows so I’m comfortable.

But Mark as absolutely wonderful with me. He’s kind, caring, gives me massages, belly rubs, talks to the baby whenever he can, carries me so I don’t have to walk. He made it a lot easier than it’s supposed to be. We celebrated his 33th birthday will everyone except Bea and Andy. I gave him a watch- he loves watches, and birthday sex.

A few days later, we fought. I wanted a little bit more freedom, and Mark wasn’t having it. One of my arguments was that Liam hadn’t tried to attack us in two months, and that he was probably not going to. He had multiple opportunities, and nothing had happened. When Mark tried to argue back, peanut gave me its first kick. I gasped and grabbed his hand, letting him feel the fluttering sensations inside me. We forgot about our fight then. We were euphoric. At this very moment of pure bliss and happiness, I jinxed the rest of our lives without realizing it.

The moments after that are a blur in my head.

I feel groggy and heavy. Like I’m waking up from the longest nap every. My body is numb, and everything is spinning.  I notice the smell first. The smell of rusty metal and oldness. Then vague, muffled sounds invade my ears. I stir, lifting my head painfully. My neck hurts.

“Look who’s awake." 

I wince, convincing my eyes open.


I blink, and the blue of the eyes observing me is comparable to the blue of mine. My vision is a blur for a moment, and then they focus and see clearly.

"Hello.” Liam beams at me, and I gasp in horror. He looks terrifying. He’s become skinnier, his cheekbones standing out, his blue eyes too big for his face. He let his hair grow, neglecting it, slicking the greasy mane back. I try to move, and realize my hands are cuffed behind the back of the chair I’m sitting on. My heart starts to race uncontrollably. I glance around nervously. We’re in a dirty dark room with no window. I don’t know where exactly.

Then it all comes back to me. They broke into our apartment, I screamed and woke up here.

“How’s it going there?” He asks, his mouth showing something too sharp to be a smile. I perceive Mark over his shoulder, and my first reflex is to squirm to run into his arms. I’m retrained, and my efforts are vein. Mark has a bruise on his cheekbone. He’s awake and he looks as panicked as me.

“Abby. Are you okay?“ He asks worriedly. "Are you hurt?”

“Hey.” Liam snaps his head at him. That’s when I notice he’s bent, supporting himself on his knees, with a gun on a hand. A visceral fear invades me, making tears well up in my eyes as I realize he has kidnapped us. “I was talking.”

“What do you want?” Mark grins out. Liam straightens up and snaps his fingers. His poise is bloodcurdling. He’s not nervous or agitated; he has a plan and he knows everything will go accordingly. He’s going to kill us.

“Yeah, let’s talk about that.” He prompts, gabbing another wooden chair, the only furniture in this angsty room. He sits down with the chair backwards, crossing his arms on the bac of it, his gun dangling from his long fingers.

“Do you want to talk about that?” He asks me, and his sudden attention to me tightens my throat into a knot of anxiety. I nod quietly, tears streaming down my face. How did I end up here?

“Thany.” He declares, his eyes sliding back and forth between us. “I want my girlfriend back.” He demands. We don’t even know where she went. And it’s precisely because we wanted to avoid this.

“She left you.” Mark reminds him.

“Because of you two.” He snaps, rising from his seat. I plead Mark with my eyes, beg him not to make him angry, but he’s too busy glaring at Liam with all of his hate to look at me. I can’t breathe.

Liam takes slow steps towards Mark.

“Because you raped my wife, you disgusting son of a bitch.” He spits back, giving him a wrathful stare.

“It was ten fucking years ago.” Liam argues, waving his weapon in emphasis. A small whimper escapes me as I try not to sob too loudly, but I am having a panic attack at this moment. I fear for Mark and for my baby. I don’t think either of us is going to make it alive. We don’t know where Thany is, and nothing in his behavior has yet made me think he could let us free.

“She still has nightmares about it sometimes.” Mark grinds out, and Liam steps in front of him, blocking my view?

“Are you sure they’re not wet dreams?” He retorts. Mark bristles, and I hear him toss in his chair, probably trying to jump Liam despite his bounds.

“Mark!” I call, begging him. I pull on my restrains, and the metal of the cuffs bite onto my skin, making me wince. Liam’s fist collides with Mark’s face, and I let out a sob of terror.

“Why did you have to bring it up after ten years?!” He yells, and punches him again.

“This woman made me happy!” He screams, whirling around to face me. I gasp and shrink inside my seat, shaking my head desperately, but he doesn’t loiter very long before turning back to Mark, who’s lips is bleeding abundantly.

“This is all your fault.” He mutters. Mark’s face is twisted in a mix of pain and anger, and he spits blood on the floor. Liam blocks my view again, but Mark’s words are very distinct.

“You better kill me, Liam.” He says, the calm in his voice chilling. “You better kill me because if you don’t, I’ll rip your fucking head off.” He threatens. Liam leans in, supporting himself on his knees again, listening closely.

“I will kill you so fucking slowly you’ll be begging me to end your life. People will be picking up your remains all over the walls.” Mark declares. There is a long pause during which they both stare at each other.

“Along with your wife’s brains?” Liam suggests, his arm pivoting backwards towards me. He pulls the trigger without even looking. The noise is loud and deafening. I scream and squeeze my eyes shut, howling loudly.

“Abby!” Mark yells. The shock gone, I start dry heaving in panic. “Are you okay?”

“Next time I won’t miss her.” Liam assures, letting his arm fall down. When I look up, Mark’s eyes are wide in panic, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Liam straightens and walks over to me. I tense and recoil as he stands behind me.

“Where is she?” He asks, his tone firm.

“We don’t know.” Mark shakes his head.

“Where is she?” He repeats, his hand grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling my head back.

“Mark!” I call.

“We don’t know! What have you been doing for the past two months? We thought you were tracking all of us.” Mark explains.

“I was watching her.” He mutters. I wince, my neck bending painfully. “I lost her trace in New York. I know you met her, and you gave her money.” He says. He was watching us all the time, but he didn’t do anything. He made us feel same so he could surprise us.

“Where did she go with it?” He asks, raising his voice.

“Liam, don’t-”

“Mark.” I sob.

“Where did she go?!” He yells into my ear. I jump and recoil. He smells of alcohol and filthiness.

“I don’t know.” I whisper. He presses his weapon against my temple.

“Liam!” Mark shouts. I wail, the sudden rush of fear making my bladder give up on me. I squeeze my thighs together and start crying even harder.

“What’s that?” Liam asks, letting my hair go. The hot liquid pools on my chair and trickles down trembling legs.

“Your wife is peeing herself.” Liam snickers, and he may be a crazy psychopath, the shame is I feel is heart-wrenching. I look down at my lap, my maternity pants turning dark around my crotch and sob quietly.

“She peed herself!” He exclaims.

“She’s pregnant, you douchebag!” Mark hisses. Liam grabs my chin, and his touch brings back old reminiscences. It’s enough to make me shudder in disgust. He just has to touch me for me to feel violated again. He pulls my head up to make me look at him, and places the barrel of his weapon under my chin.

“Liam!” Mark screams. I screw my eyes shut and ball my fists, preparing for the blow.

“I should have killed you in that parking lot.” He grinds out to my face.

“Reno!” Mark shouts, distress in his voice. “She’s in Reno, Nevada.”

There is a long pause, during which all I hear is my erratic heartbeat, and Mark’s heavy breathing.

“How do you know?” Liam asks, his gun still under my chin.

“I’ve been tracking her too. I have a folder at home detailing everything.” Mark’s voice is shaking. What?

“Where?” He asks, finally freeing me. I exhale deeply, eventually allowing myself to breathe.

“In my office. Top drawer of my desk. It’s a brown folder.” Mark murmurs. When I look at him, his eyes are filled with tears. Liam strides over to him.

“Thanks.” He says lightly, giving his shoulder a tap before ambling outside the room, locking us behind. Mar just gave her away. He probably condemned her. He did that to protect us, me, peanut and himself. I’m not surprised, because I always knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do the most awful things to protect me, and he’s not ashamed of it. It doesn’t erase the fact that it’s still wrong.

“Fuck.” Mark curses, blinking rapidly. More tears spring to my eyes, and I sob quietly.

“Baby.” Mark calls. “Abby, look at me.” He commands. I pull my eyes up to see his face. He looks sorry.

“I promise I’ll find a way to get us out of here.” He promises. He shouldn’t, because at this point he’s not controlling anything. He’s just going to suffer.

“It’s my fault. I jinxed it.” I mutter.

“No, you didn’t. They were probably on their way when you said that.” He says reassuringly. I shake my head. We’re going to die.

“He’s going to kill us.” I whisper. Honestly, at this point, I don’t want to fight anymore. I just want to tell Mark I will always love him.

I take a quick glance at Mark form the other side of the table. He has his hands joined on his lap, his facial expression unreadable. I know he’s trying not to distract me. He knows I’m so uncomfortable I’d do anything to escape the situation. Dr Davis shows an even more unsettling stoicism.

I lean forward and grab the last card pf the stack. The last question Mark wants me to answer is:

“Are you okay?”

I read it out loud, surprised by the simplicity of the question. Am I okay? Yes, or No? This part is the easiest part; deciding if I’m okay or not. The most difficult part is when the answer is no.

I wouldn’t be here if I was okay. We wouldn’t be here if we were okay. This vague question forces me to dig deep inside my heart, ripping all my wounds open so all my pain can flow out, comforting me in the obvious idea that no, I’m not okay. Tears well up in my eyes, and I don’t try to stop them. They fall down on the small card. My throat is a tight knot of emotions. A strangled sob escapes me.

When I hear Mark shift, I look up to see him standing up.

“Mark.” Davis admonishes, and Mark shoots him a look, but obeys. He sits back in his seat, his fists balled against his thighs. I wipe my tears as the doctor turns to look at me.

“So you’re not okay.” He says, and I nod quietly to corroborate.

“Can you elaborate?” He asks me. I swallow, my throat feeling so tight it hurts.

“I still think about what happened.” I confess, sniffling. “And the consequences it has on our relationship.”

“What consequences?”

“The fact that we can’t sleep in the same bed anymore.” I reply, my voice disappearing in a whisper at the end, failing me under the weight of my emotions.

After the incident with Liam and Olivia, we slept at my parents’ house for, because we both really needed support, but Mark didn’t sleep at night. I had nightmares, and I would wake up crying, and he would comfort me, but he never told me he couldn’t sleep. When he finally did sleep back home, he started having horrible, violent nightmares. They were affecting him so much in his sleep he would actually move and talk. The first and only time it happened with me, I woke up in the morning laying on my side, suffocating. Mark was behind me, his hand around my throat, and he was strangling me, telling me he wasn’t my toy.

I fought him, scratched his arms and kicked my legs until my heel hit his crotch. He let me go and woke up yelling in pain, while I fell out of bed and hit my head against the nightstand. For a short moment, I thought it was him. I thought he had done it on purpose. He was twisting in pain, and I was pressed against the farthest wall, catching my breath and holding my throat. When he opened his eyes and looked at me, his face fell like I had never seen before. He rushed to me and I screamed, yelled not to approach me, and I saw him blanch. He froze and started crying. He had no idea what had happened. He woke up and I was terrified of him.

A few moments later when I explained him what had happened, he said he wouldn’t sleep in our bed anymore. He said he’d go see Davis, and won’t sleep with me until he was fixed. I agreed. It’s been a month. We quickly went past the first fears and doubts. We both agreed that Mark never wanted to hurt me, that it was his problem and that we will try to fix it.

“Does it have a profound impact?” Our shrink enquires. I nod, more tears making my face twist.   “Because it’s not what we want. Yet, we have to. And we’re like that because of two persons.” I feel like they are still trying to punish us, even from hell.

“It’s not even our fault.” I murmur.

About half an hour later, or maybe a day – I don’t know, I don’t have access to my watch-, Abby and I hear the door being unlocked. My heart tightens in apprehension. This is probably the beginning of the end. Either he found that folder, which means he has what he wants and he can kill us, or he didn’t and is going to kill us as well.

I don’t mind dying. I just don’t want to see her die with our baby. Even if he killed me a nanosecond after her, it would be the most painful nanosecond. I can see Abby’s face contort with fear, and I want to reassure her, but she’s not oblivious to the situation. I couldn’t make her feel better even if I tried.

“Look what I found in front of your door.” Liam pushes the door open with his feet and enters with the folder in one hand, and a female body over his shoulder. Abby gasps in horror as he kicks the door closed. Liam bends until the woman’s feet touch the floor, and lets her fall down onto her back. The sigh grips my heart and laces it with horror. It’s Beatrice.

“Bea!” Abigail yells, tears streaming down her face as she discovers her best friend. She has a bloody wound on her stomach.

“What did you do to her?!” I utter, mortified.

“She wasn’t…very welcoming.” He says dismissively. In a rush of anger in my blood, I try for the billionth time to free myself from my cuffs, pulling until the meatal cuts my wrists open and I feel blood dripping down my fingers.

“Bea!” Abby cries. “Bea can you hear me?!”

“She’s pregnant, you son of a bitch.” I grind out, my blood boiling. The second I find a way to free myself, I’m going to torture him until he begs me to kill him.

“Thany was pregnant too!” He shouts at me, pulling his gun out of his belt. “And she aborted my child. My child!” He points his gun to his chest.

“Because of the stupid bitch that you are.” He mutters, turning to Abby.

“It’s because you’re a rapist!” I retort, and he shoots me a glare. When I think I used to look up to him. He was one of my few role models.

“Bea.” Abby murmurs, observing her friend with tears in her eyes.

“Shut up.” Liam snaps.

“This,” He prompts, holding the folder in his hand. “Is going to be very useful. Thanks.” He says nonchalantly. I look down at my lap, not proud of putting Thany in danger.

“Now,” He starts, putting the folder down. “My friend wants to talk to you.” He announces. What?

He walks around my chair and grabs the back of it, tilting it backwards. It slides so effortlessly I understand he but wheels under them.

“What? Liam!” I shout. I am not leaving my wife and my child alone!

“Mark!” Abby calls desperately. He drags me out of the room into a dark hallway. I trash and toss in my seat, but he keeps going, and I see dozens of doors pass by. I think we’re in a hospital. He kicks another door open, and I arrive in a bright, but still empty room. He whirls the chair around, and I fall face to face with Olivia. I go speechless, shocked.

“Have fun.” Liam declares before exiting the room. Olivia looks… She looks filthy. Her hair is greasy, she lost tons of weight, her skin has turned gray. She looks years older. She’s… a sad, nasty piece of horror.

“Mark.” She croons. Abigail.

My mind goes white, and my eyes see red. Anger sweeps through me like a heat wave.

“NO!” I shout as she walks to me. No! No! No! SHE WILL NOT HURT ME ANYMORE. Fuming, I grab my left thumb. Helped by my anger rush, a superhuman strength and willpower invades me. I tug on my thumb, quick and hard until it breaks.

“Fuck!” I howl, pain radiating in my wrist, all the way to my shoulder. I’m paralyzed for a moment, unable to move, the pain too strong.

“Shhhhh.” Olivia rushes to me and places her filthy hands on my neck. I jerk my head away and slip my broken hand out of my cuff.

“You filthy whore!” I spit at her face. Using my valid hand, and dragging my chair with me, I get up.

“Mark, what are you-” I cut her off by wrapping my fingers around her throat and slamming her against the nearest door. The modern chair dangles from my wrist, my left hand aching. Her eyes bulge out, and she tries to pull my hand away. I squeeze her throat, with all of my fucking strength, with all of the hate I feel for her and Liam, with all the pain she’s given me. She tries to articulate words, but I can’t hear her.

“I. Am. Not. Your. Toy.” I grind each syllable out, to make her understand this is over. Her eyes roll back. I can see the life escaping her body. I can see the end of the tunnel.

“Do you think we’ll get through this?” Mark reads out loud. It’s the last question I had for him. He keeps his eyes on the small card, running his thumb across the paper.

“I don’t see how we couldn’t.” He declares, looking up at me. I have to admit it’s the first time I see him so optimistic about our couple.

“We love each other and we both know why it’s happening. We know it has nothing to do with us.” He murmurs. My eyes start to sting with fresh tears as he puts the card back on the stack. I would usually be the one who says that kind of thing.

“I feel like what worries you the most is the time it will take.” He says quietly. I sniffle.

“Is he right?” David prompts, scribbling on his notebook. I nod in silence.

“I think the pregnancy, and the fact that you’ve been dealing with things like this for years is making you thin-skinned.” Mark ads. He’s not wrong. I feel like I don’t have the strength to fight for too long. I thought things would be perfect between us and in our heads by the time peanut is there, but now I’m not so sure, and I’m disappointed.

“You don’t think you’ll have the patience for more therapy and anxiety.” He states. Sometimes I forget how well he knows me. How he always does his best to understand me. Even if he had more problems that I did, it was never a one-way relationship.

“But I believe you’ll push through.” He says reassuringly. I have never seen him more solid and strong. Or maybe every time he Liam was around. “You always do.”

Liam examines the folder he found in our home, slowly pacing up and down in front of me and Bea. I don’t know if she’s still breathing. I don’t know if her baby is okay. I don’t know if she’s going to survive. Each passing second makes me think I’m going to lose her. What was she doing at our house? Was she there to make peace with me?

The door swings open, and I hear a loud detonation. I jump and squeeze my eyes shut.

“Argh!” Liam screams, the pain in his voice making me look up. He collapses to the floor, and when I look at the door, and see Mark standing in the doorway, huffing and puffing, a weapon in his hand. The look in his eyes make all the blood drain from my face. Liam moans and winces, reaching for his gun on the floor.

There is another loud sound, and Liam yells again. Mark takes slow and serene steps towards him. There is blood on Liam’s body. I can’t breathe.

Liam looks up at Mark, hiccupping, blood in his mouth. Peanut moves inside me. I feel the baby press against my belly button. I close myself then. I close my eyes and shut everything out, Mark included.

Peanut doesn’t know what is going on. It just woke up from its nap. It must be around eight in the evening. That’s usual when the baby starts to dance, after mommy has eaten and we’re both happy.

“I remember the night you went to that party.” I hear Mark say, but I don’t listen. I think about our baby. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to see this.

“I had proposed a movie night at my place that night. You should have accepted.”

“Mark. Wait.” Liam begs, and I wait. I wait for it to be over. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not. You’re scared.” Mark corrects. Soon, it will all be over. “Jackson told me what you said after I found out. You said she liked it.”


“You said she begged you to fuck her.”

There is another loud detonation, and a muffled scream. I can smell blood. I’ve seen too much blood today.

Liam utters undistinguishable syllables.

“Excuse me?” Mark asks. I want to ask him to stop. He’s wounded and can’t hurt us anymore. It’s enough, we can leave with Bea, but I’m sure he’s not listening. The look in his eyes… he wants to finish with all of this. He won’t stop until he’s totally free.

“Thany.” Liam murmurs, his voice barely audible. “I… I love…her.”

“You shouldn’t have touched my wife.”

Another gunshot.

“I told you a trillion times, Liam. You do not touch the people I love. This is what happens-” He grinds out. “Hey.” He calls. I don’t know what is happening. “This is what happens, when man like me falls in love.”

I hear one last gunshot, and then silence. There is a long pause. I reuse to open my eyes. I don’t want to see. I want to leave.

There is movement around me, and I hear Mark throw up on the floor.

“Fuck.” He curses, breathless. “Abby.” He calls.”

“I don’t want to see.” I whisper to myself. I don’t know how, but he hears me. I’m spun around, and when I open my eyes, he’s not in front of me. Nor is Liam or Bea. Mark is behind me, undoing my cuffs. I burst into tears.

“Mark?” I call.

“It’s okay. We’re fine.” He murmurs, freeing me. I bring my wrists to my eyes, and they are bruised and sore. I rub my hands together. I’m free. Mark crouches down in front of me, the man I know back into his eyes.

“Is he dead?” I ask quietly. He doesn’t reply. He cups my cheek with one hand, his eyes sad and tormented, traumatized even. His other hand is blue.

“What’s wrong with your hand?” I ask, wiping my nose on the back of my hand.

“I broke my thumb to free myself.” He explains.

“You broke your own hand?” I utter.

“I’ll be fine.”


“We have to get Bea out of here.” He cuts me off. I freeze.

“I don’t want to look.” I whisper. Without a word, he disappears from my field of view and comes back, dragging my best friend by her feet. At this sight, I shoot up on my feet, wobbling slightly but too anxious to mind. I kneel at her side and reach out, but freeze. She’s lost a lot of blood. Mark feels her pulse.

“She’s still breathing. But barely.” He observes. Oh, Bea. I’m so, so sorry.

“Take you cardigan off.” He orders. I obey immediately, taking the cloth off and handing it to him, feeling a little bit chilly in just a T-shirt. He makes a ball with it and presses it against her wound.

“I have Olivia’s phone in my back pocket.” He says, slightly arching and pushing his hip towards me.

“Olivia? Where is she?” I ask, fishing in his pocket and pulling the phone out of it. I catch a glimpse of Liam’s feet. He’s immobile. I shake my head and look at Mark, who’s eyes avoid mine.

“You were with her?”

“Yes. Call 911, Abigail.” He snaps. In front of the urgent situation, I don’t ask any more questions - although I think I know what happened and use the emergency call button to call or help.

It still amazes me how my heart trusted Mark after that. He killed two persons, and didn’t seem to regret at first, but I never considered him as dangerous. He has a harder time dealing with it than I do. He wasn’t himself when he did that. It was his hurt and angry subconscious taking possession of his body. I could tell just by looking in his eyes that he was back after it. He even got sick whenever he thought about it. He’s traumatized by what we’ve been through and what he’s done, but his strength amazes me.

“And it’s okay if you’re scared of the future.” Mark adds quietly as my tears start to pour again.

“I have been the scared one in our relationship for a long time. But I’m not scared anymore.” He assures. “I trust you, and I trust myself.” He murmurs. I suck in a trembling breath, his words sinking deep inside. He trusts us.

“So now we can switch roles. I can be the Abby of our couple.” He proposes. “But I know you. And I know you’re going to fight. I know you always fight for us, even when you don’t want to.” He says confidently, his eyes desperately trying to convince me, make me think I actually can do this.

“That’s just the way you are. And I love you for that.” He says, his words making my heart warm. I feel less weak now.

“Thank you.” I choke out. I needed to hear those words so badly, and I didn’t even know. Mark nods, his eyes encouraging.

“I think Mark is right.” Davis chimes in. I wipe my tears and try to regain some composure.

“You’re more fragile now. But on the other hand, Mark is stronger, and he’s here for you.” He explains.

After a few more minutes of talking, Davis lets us leave and tells us to come back next week. In the small lock between his office and the exit, Mark pulls me in a long embrace. I curl my arms around his middle and he wraps his around my shoulders. My ear is against his chest, and while closing my eyes I ca, hear his steady heartbeat, and let his warmth engulf me. In this very moment, we silently exchange our affirmations.

We can do this.

When I pull away, he tilts my head back and give me one of the most tender and loving kiss he’s ever gave me.

“I love you.” I whisper against his lips. He hums, his lips lingering against mine.“

"I know.” He breathes before kissing my nose. “I love you too.”

I take a deep, cleansing breath, and Mark runs his hands up and down my arms. I bury my face in the crook of his neck and drop a kiss there.

“Can we go see Bea?” I ask, looking up at him. He presses our foreheads together and takes my hands.

“Sure.” He murmurs, bringing them to his mouth and kissing them in turns.

“We’ll stop by my florist.” He declares.

Bea rests quite close to where Henry is, so I come and say hello to him whenever I come to see Bea. Her death was a shock, and the loss a deep wound still open and hurting. My eyes fill themselves with tears when Mark and I stand in front of her grave.

It’s only been a month and a half. It’s still too fresh. The voice of the doctor telling us she hadn’t survived her surgery to remove the bullet from her body is still too loud in my head. I still remember every detail of it. I still feel my heart being ripped apart whenever I think of it. I still remember Andy yelling at us, crying and throwing things at our faces. I remember him grabbing Mark and punching him in the face repeatedly. I remember Mark letting him do, not fighting back. I remember fainting. I remember feeling like my gut was being ripped out of me. I remember throwing up all day until I bled. I remember the pain in every aspect. I feel the pain in every aspect it can have. Until all that clarity becomes a blur in my mind, I won’t be able to move on.

Mark bends and place a bouquet of white petunias next to a fresh bouquet of roses that must come from Andy. 

Andy still hasn’t forgiven us for what happened. And we don’t expect him to. We went to her burial, but him and Bea’s parent had turned their backs to us. It’s our fault if she died.

She came to our apartment to make peace with me, and Liam shot her. She was pregnant and she was in love. She was robbed from her happiness; just like she said I would do.

I think this, losing my best friend, my sister, is what is making me so weak. I am devastated inside. Sometimes I think about her, and I feel dead. I feel empty and useless. I feel like an empty shell of a woman.

I hope she’s in peace. Her and her baby. I hope I will find peace too. But it will be a long journey until I forgive myself.

Mark stands and looks down at me, his eyes teary as well. He wipes the silent tears that have been pouring abundantly with his thumb. I let him do, but don’t try to stop crying, because I can’t.

“Do you think she’ll forgive me one day?” I ask him. He cradles my head against his chest and kisses my hair.

“I’m sure she will.” He says reassuringly. I hope he’s right. But even if he is; it’s going to take time. I have to rebuilt that aspect of my life. I have to find a way to live without her.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. 

I can do it.

“I’m going back to work.” I declare. Mark pulls away from me, surprised.

I kneel down with a little difficulty, my six-month baby bump pressing against my thigh. I reach out and touch Bea’s picture with my fingertips.

I love you, sis. I will always love and miss you. You may be mad at me, but it’ll never erase the fact that I am happy and proud to love you as much as I do.

You left with a part of my heart. I want you to keep it. No one will ever replace you.



“I will forgive myself.” I declare, my voice shaking with emotion. Hot tears stream down my face, but I try to keep my tone even.

“I am not weak.” I state. 

“No, you’re not.” Mark crouches down next to me, one hand sliding up my back, his fingers curling around my nape. My heart swells painfully.

“We promised each other to be strong women.” I murmur. I can hear her voice. I can hear her giving me nightly affirmations every day during the period I lived with her.

What are you, Abigail?

“I’m-” I trail off, but the words get caught up in my throat. I hiccup. “I am… I-”

“Shhhhh.” Mark soothes, pressing his lips against my temple, his fingers flexing around my nape. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths.

I can do it.

“I love you.” Mark says into my ear, his voice laced with emotion.

I realize that his love is my biggest strength.

What are you, Abigail?

His love gave me the strength to open up to him despite Liam. His love gave me strength to stop feeling insecure despite Ellie and Cooper. His love made me trust him despite Olivia.

His love is the key. And I have all of it.

I am…

Peanut chooses this moment to kick.

I open my eyes, balling my fist against my thigh.

“I am a warrior.”

Originally posted by winwintheicecreamhoe

(4) Over a cup of tea.

Part of the: The way you said “I love you.”

“Can I see you?

5pm, your café.”

Fifteen minutes to five and she’d been tapping the same message over and over ever since she took her place by the usual seat, by the corner facing the entrance. Your café, he said, not his because the two of them loved different things, it worked for a while, you know, how opposites attract and whatnot.

Until it didn’t anymore.

It was a little over a year ago she was here last, and for someone so fond of this place, she never thought she’d stopped coming simply because she couldn’t. Even though it was her café, for her the place was entirely him. It was him that accompanied her early mornings and late evenings, over a cup of tea and it was peppermint for him. Yes, she still remembers.

She didn’t text him back, Taehyun would know that it was a yes anyway, just the way it always was when it comes to him.

Her wristwatch reads ten to and she swallowed back her anxiousness, knowing well that he’d be here any minute now since Taehyun was always punctual that way. The position would normally be reversed, with him the one to see her walk through that door but she couldn’t go through that this time round. She needed to be the first one to see him.

Thick snow lined the pavement outside and she kept an eye through the glass walls on each passerby, scrambling for warmth into nearby shops. The second he came into view, she was quick to look away, her heart skipping clumsy beats as she bore her focus onto the cup of tea cuddled in between her palms.

The bell chimed through the low murmur of the café and she didn’t dare for one second look up, silently counting down the seconds that felt too fast.

“Hey.” His voice pulsed through the parts of her that missed him, but it felt different this time because it hurt.

“Taehyun.” She tipped her chin up ever so slowly, his name tasted numb at the tip of her tongue after lying dry for so long.

He’d chopped his hair off, dyed it black and the weight he lost evident in his face, his features sharper but still handsome just as he was.

“I ordered for you, but if you want─”

“The usual?” Taehyun sensed her uneasy tone, it was a shame because the ice had never been this thick between the two of them.

“Yeah, the usual.” Her eyes stilled, staring at the small smile on his face, almost melancholic.

“Then it’s fine, thank you.”

Taehyun shifted in his seat across her, the silence stretching between them and the both of them could only manage to stare at the now cool cups of tea, still left untouched.

“You look great.” He cleared his throat, catching his breath when she perked up, gaze wandering over him and even after all this time, he could never tell what it was she had in mind.

“Hm, so do you.” She smiled back and it was sincere the way she looked at him like he might just disappear.

“How are you?”

It took her a few seconds to say something, no longer transfixed on him but the menu on the table and she drew a shaky breath.

“Why did you ask me to come?” She skipped his question which confirmed him of her answer, guilt dragging him down and the floor might as well swallow him whole.

“I heard that you’ll be leaving for good.”

“Did Minho tell you that?” She laughed quietly as she fiddled with the packets of brown sugar and Taehyun took his time to observe her while he could, thankful that she still refused to look at him.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” He asked, catching the flicker of her eyes at his words, “I won’t ask you, you know.”

She flicked her focus away, this time at him.

“To stay.” He continued, “Well, I should have back then but I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah, you were.” For once they seemed to have a common ground, agreeing to past mistakes that still left a dull ache. There was sadness in her laughter, but it had been a while since he heard it last, Taehyun couldn’t ask for more. 

“I meant it back then, when I said I loved you.” His mouth felt dry and he reached out to the cup of tea he’d neglected, hoping that the bitter taste would distract him, “I still do, I still love you.” 

Silence lapsed once more and Taehyun realized that it was too late to bite back his tongue. 

“You can’t just do this, Taehyun.”She sighed, clamping her teeth to her lip as she shook her head subtly. 

“I know… I’m sorry. But tell me this─ would you?” 

She didn’t ask what it was, because she knew and before he could catch the quiet protest in her eyes, Taehyun grabbed the chance he didn’t have. 

“Stay, if I asked you to?”

Of baby talk and other shenanigans

            .x▬▬▬▬[» Of baby talk and other shenanigans «]▬▬▬▬ ×.

Luna knew she was in for something the moment she entered the Jam&Roller.

It may be Gastón devilish smirk, Nina`s alarmed face or Jim and Jam secretive looks; or even the way Ramiro was looking at her with mocking concentration while popping popcorn in his mouth all the while Simon was trying to conceal his amusement whereas Nico was cleaning the tables looking like the most normal in the group, and Pedro, well he looked quiet but somehow resigned.

Lunas was wary.

“Hey Luna!” Gaston called in a very, very chipper voice.

And rightfully so.

Keep reading

Missing Kitty

request: “6 and 40 with Minhyuk from Monsta X, please???? I don’t know it could be more that one number, but I can’t decide… I love happy endings, so, yeah… Have a nice day!! 😘“ ~Anon

6 - Be serious for two minutes, please

40 - The kiss tasted like tears

genre: baby angst

pairing: minhyuk x you

word count: 571

AFF link

A/N: I’m so close to being done with all these drabble requests, I’m so sorry they’ve taken so long ~Admin B

After getting your text, Minhyuk rushed home as soon as he could. When he walked in the unlocked door, it was easy to pinpoint where you were. Soft cries filled the otherwise silent apartment. Finding you sitting cross legged on the cold tile he leaned down in front of you.

“What happened?” His tone ended up being more demanding than he intended it to be, and he cringed internally.

“I can’t find her anywhere.”

Without thinking, a joke slipped out. “Did you check under the bed?” Idoit.

“Be serious for two minutes, please,” you cried angrily. Your cat was missing, and all you could think was she’d jumped off the balcony railing of your third floor apartment. But she wasn’t outside either, you’d checked.

Running his hand through his hair, Minhyuk apologized sincerely. His humor wasn’t always well timed.

“Where do you think she went?” Voice as soft as he could make it, he placed a hand on your cheek. The pad of his thumb stroked just under your eye where tears had been collecting.

“I didn’t even open the front door,” you hiccupped. “What if she jumped off the balcony, Minhyuk?”

“She’s a smart kitty, I’m sure she didn’t jump.”

You, still fearing the worst, persisted. “What if a pigeon startled her and she lost her balance?”

Minhyuk stood up, taking your hands in his and pulling you to your feel. The blood rushed to your feet after standing up so suddenly, leaving you slightly light headed. There are few things worse than losing a pet, even if they were old. If anything had happened to your cat, Minhyuk knew how devastated you’d be. “Let’s go look for her, yeah?”

Sniffling, you nodded, following behind your boyfriend as he scavenges the apartment. After searching every nook and cranny, including inside the washing machine and dryer, the cat was still missing. “I don’t know where she could have gone, babe. I’m so sorry.” Something pulled Minhyuk’s attention away from you. “Did you hear that?” he asked.


“Did you hear that? I thought I heard a meow,” explained swiftly moving in the direction of the noise.

“Minhyuk please don’t mess with me right now,” you sighed, following him slowly.

“I’m not messing with you,” he explained indignantly. Another faint meow came from your bathroom. “See?”

With both of you crowding the bathroom, you both looked all around, no cat in sight. “Where could she be?” you muttered mostly to yourself. After another meow, Minhyuk threw open of the cabinets below the sink, revealing your cat calming swishing her tail with her head tilted to the side. “Oh thank god.” Beyond relieved you pulled Minhyuk to you, connecting your lips.

The kiss tasted like tears. The kind of tears that came from finding your cat who you thought might be dead. Sauntering out of the cabinet, your cat rubbed up against your shins perhaps sensing your previous distress.

“How did she get in there?” Minhyuk wondered, leaning down to pick up the small furry animal.

After wondering how your cat had managed to both open and then proceed to trap herself in the bathroom cabinet also mystified you for a moment until you remembered. “I may have left the cabinet open when I was cleaning earlier. She must have pulled it closed behind her,” you confessed.

Laughing heartily, Minhyuk teased, “Well next time she goes missing we know where to look first.”

I do not allow reposting or translations of any of my work.

Waiters (4/4)

A/N:Thank you all so much for following me and I’m happy that you all enjoy my writing. It’s been a hobby of mine since I got into reading when I was 11. I started writing at 13 and have continued to do so since then. Thank you to those who submitted the requests. If you’d like to continue to submit some, you can. I can’t promise you that I will write it, but I might however it won’t be done right away.

Request: 5/10 (all requests)
@moodboard5sos: could you please do one where 4/4 are waiters at a restaurant, I’ve never read any like that. thank you😙

Masterlist || Ask


“I’m Ashton and I’ll be your server for the evening. Can I start you off with something to drink?” A curly haired male asked as he approached the table you were sitting at.
“Just water, please,” you told him.
He nodded. “I’ll be right back out with your drink, Ma'am.”
He walked away and you looked back at the menu and decided on just a club sandwich with some fries.
Ashton came back with your water before pulling out his notepad. “Are you ready to order?”
You nodded. “Yeah, I’ll just take a club sandwich with some fries, please,” you told him then handed him the menu after he jotted it down.
He smiled. “It will be out soon,” and with that he walked away once more.
You had been on your phone scrolling through your social media when a plate was placed in front of you as well as a second one in front of the seat across from you. You gave the second plate a confused look before looking up to see a blushing Ashton.
“Uh, I hope you don’t mind but I’m on my break right now and you were eating alone so I thought you’d like some company…” He told you nervously. “I mean, if you want some company. I totally understand if you want to eat alone. I should have asked before I put my food down. God-”
“Ashton,” you cut him off and giggled. “Just sit down already. Our food is going to get cold if you continue to ramble.”
He beamed and took the seat across from you. “So, why are you here alone?”
You bit a fry. “Is there a reason why I can’t eat alone?”
He shook his head. “No, no. It’s just, you know, you’re so pretty and I just thought a pretty girl like you would have a boyfriend eating with her.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. “Thanks and no, I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“That’s shocking to hear.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I would make you mine in a heartbeat,” he mumbled.
You stared at him for a moment as he ate a forkful of his pasta. “Well?”
He looked up and swallowed his food followed by wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Well, what?”
You gave him a small smile. “Why don’t you?”
He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Why don’t I what?”
“You just mumbled that you would make me yours in a heartbeat,” you explained, “so why don’t you?”
He smiled then chuckled. “I was hoping to ease you into the idea over the meal.”
You laughed. “Well, you could buy me dinner.”
“I was going to anyway.”
“Then consider me yours,” you smiled.

“Hey, I’m Michael. I’ll be your waiter for tonight. Can I get you anything to drink?” A red haired male greeted you and your cousin as he approached your table.
The two of you had given your drink order to him and he noted them before walking away then returning a few minutes later with your drinks and took your order. He took both of your menus before retreating to the kitchen.
“He’s cute,” your cousin told you as she took a sip of her soda.
You gave her a look. “You have a boyfriend, Y/C/N.”
She waved you off. “I wasn’t talking for me. I was mentioning it for you.”
You shrugged. “Yeah, he’s cute.”
“What are you waiting for? Make a move! Flirt it up!”
“He is working right now in case you forgot that minor detail.”
“I’m sure he can spare a few minutes to chat with you.”
“Just leave it, Y/C/N,” you tell her in a stern tone.
She gave you a look but dropped the subject.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” you tell her and stood up.
She nodded and pulled out her phone.
You walked in the direction of the bathroom and turned to go into the little hallway when you bumped into someone, quite hard actually.
“Oomf,” you let out as you basically bounced off the person due to the force of the collision.
“Oh, shit. Sorry. I didn’t see you,” a deep voice apologized as his hands steadied you.
Once you regained balance, you looked up at the person and were surprised to see that it was Michael. “No, it’s fine. I should have been more careful coming around the corner.”
He put his hands in his pockets. “Nah, I should’ve known to be careful. I do work here after all.”
You smiled. “Hey, no harm no foul.”
He cocked his head to the side and gave you a half smile. “I didn’t quite catch your name earlier.”
“It’s Y/N,” you tell him.
He held his hand out to you and you placed yours in his. You thought he would give it a good shake or two, but he surprised you when he brought it up to his lips. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”
You blushed as he let go of your hand. “Same to you.”
He stood there for a moment and you looked at him. “Shouldn’t you go back to working?”
His eyes widened in realization. “Oh, shit. Yeah,” he moved to walk around you but stopped short and turned to look back at you. “Wait, before I do, how would you like to go on a date with me sometime?”
You nodded. “I’d love to.”
He smiled. “Cool.” He then sped walked around the corner out of your sight.
It was a little after your food had been delivered when a folded piece of notepad paper was placed beside your plate.
You glanced at it then looked up to see Michael walking away. He turned his head halfway to give you a wink before attending another table.
Your cousin raised an eyebrow at you but you grabbed the piece of paper and unfolded it.
Looking forward to our date.
Mike x

Followed by his phone number.

“Good evening. My name’s Calum and I’ll be your server for tonight,” a dark haired, olive skinned, God told you and your friend as he smiled.
You two exchanged a look before looking back at Calum.
“Is there anything I can start you off with to drink or any appetizers?” He asked.
Your friend wiggled her eyebrows at you before turning back to him. “I’ll have a Coke and we’ll take any appetizer that you recommend,” she told him in a seductive tone.
You rolled her eyes at her antics as Calum wrote down what she had asked for. He turned to you with a smirk. “And for you, Miss?”
You blushed under his gaze. “Just an iced tea please, raspberry if you have it.” You smiled up at him.
He smiled before jotting it down. “I’ll be right back with your drinks,” and with that, he left the table.
“Ugh, he is one fine piece of meat!” Your friend exaggerated.
You rolled your eyes. “Pick your food.”
She smirked at you. “Oh, I know what I want to eat.”
You pulled a face. “Gross, Y/F/N.”
Before she could say anything, Calum had reappeared with both of your drinks and a small bowl of soup with crackers. “Have you both decided on what you’d like to order?”
“Oh, I know what I’d like to eat, it just depends if it’s on the menu,” your friend suggestively hinted at Calum.
You blushed in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry about her,” you apologized to him and gave your friend a glare.
Calum chuckled. “It’s not a problem. It happens a lot.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Quite the ladies’ man, eh?”
He smirked at you. “What can I say?” He popped his collar and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Smooth, very smooth,” you told him with a smile.
“You have a beautiful smile,” Calum told you.
You blushed. “Um, thanks.”
He winked at you. “Anytime pretty lady.”
You rolled your eyes but a smile on your lips nevertheless. “You’re such a flirt.”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “I am when it comes to beautiful ladies.”
Your friend cleared her throat and shot you an annoyed look. You glared at her then looked back at Calum who was still staring at you.
“Uh…” You let out awkwardly.
He blushed. “Oh, sorry. Uh, what would you liked to eat?”

“Hey, I’m Luke. What would you like to drink?” An attractive guy asked as he walked up to you and your friend’s table.
You looked at your friend who told him that he’d take a water. You turned to look back at Luke. “Make that two, please.”
He nodded then walked away.
“He has a nice ass,” your friend muttered.
“Y/F/N!” You scolded him.
He gave you a look. “Don’t deny that you didn’t notice how attractive he is!”
You rolled your eyes. “He is, but he probably has a girlfriend.”
“Or boyfriend,” your friend piped in.
“Right, so why look at something that can’t be mine?”
“It’s like window shopping. You can look but it can’t be yours.”
Luke came back with your waters and took both of your orders before walking away again.
You and your friend kept talking about Luke, well, more like arguing over things concerning Luke until your food came.
Luke had placed your friend’s food on the table in front of him and was about to put yours down, but some other customer bumped into him and your food had spilled onto your shirt.
You pushed your chair back immediately and the rest of the food fell onto the floor.
“Shit, I’m so sorry!” Luke apologized.
“It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault,” you reassured him while using your napkin to wipe away the food then dab at the stains.
“I have a spare shirt in my locker if you’d like to change,” Luke offered.
“No, it’s-” You were cut off by your friend.
“Yeah, she’ll take you up on that offer.”
You shot him a look and he shot you back a glare.
Take it,’ he mouthed at you.
You sighed and looked back at Luke. “Yeah, I’ll take it. Thank you.”
He nodded. “Just follow me. I’ll get someone to clean this up.”
You followed Luke to the employees locker room and watched him pull out a red plaid flannel.
“Here you go,” he held it out to you.
You took it and gave him a look as he stood there. “Uh, can you…?”
A look of realization crossed his face. “Oh, yeah. Right.” He turned around.
You took off your soiled shirt, leaving you in a tank, then slipped on his flannel leaving the buttons undone. “Uh, you can turn back around now.”
He did and his eyes widened slightly and he cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh, we should go back out.”
You nodded and turned to walk outside the room, but a hand grabbed yours and spun you back around.
A pair of lips landed on yours and stayed there for a few seconds for you to realize that Luke was kissing you before he pulled away.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since you walked in and seeing you in my flannel made it too hard to resist,” he whispered to you.
You blushed. “Oh…”
He chuckled. “C'mon, let’s go back out.” He held his hand out to you and you took it then he intertwined your fingers together.
You both walked back to the table where your friend was looking at you and Luke in a shocked manner.
You sat back down at your now clean seat with a new plate of food in front of you.
Luke had pushed your chair in and kissed your cheek. “Don’t leave without seeing me once more.”
You blushed and nodded. “Okay.”
He smiled and walked back to the kitchen.
Your friend opened his mouth to say a thing but you shut him down. “Not a word.”


In Dreams 5

Y'all ready to go AU??

Rating: Gen


The Chicago field office is newer than the Hoover, but at it’s most basic level, is still government building. The whole place is builder-grade, with cracked ceramic tiles and low pile carpet in the bullpens. The forensics dept is basically the same as any in a standard police department or CSI office. It is essentially glorified a teacher’s lounge with high tech lab equipment and five-year-old computers.

Thankfully, a morgue doesn’t require much flash. As long as she has her equipment, she’s happy.

Well, not happy, in the month and a half since her arrival, she’s been making a pretty good show of it though.

She’s able to work with a certain level of anonymity here. The field agents are focused on organized crime and gangs, not her spooky reputation, which seems to have blown away in the windy midwest. She can be whoever she wants here. Maybe she likes the corny jokes the guy in fingerprints regales her with everyday. Perhaps she’s the kind of person who joins the forensics department book club. She could be the kind of woman who wants a cashmere sweater because Oprah recommended it. Couldn’t she?

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

GOM cosplaying one another for halloween ??

“What’s going on, guys?”

Walking into the gymnasium, Momoi was greeted with a sight that could only be described as utter chaos. Ripped pieces of fabric were strewn about the room, some of them sewn together in haphazard compilations that clashed heavily and made for sore eyes. Strands of synthetic hair littered the floor, every color of the rainbow scattered along in random clumps. Makeup, specifically eyeliner, had been spilled, the contents forming a large mess of inky black where it sat. The gym was a complete disaster.

“Kise, get off of me this instant!” Midorima’s demands went unheard as the blonde basketball player tried his best to hold the bespectacled player still. In one of his hands, Kise held the last full bottle of eyeliner, the other hand reaching for Midorima’s glasses. “I don’t want to participate! Kise!”

“Come on, Midorimacchi,” Kise whined, a devilish smirk plastered onto his face as he swatted at Midorima’s glasses. “We’re all dressing as each other this year, so you have to get it right! You won’t look like me unless we fix your eyes!”

Swiping his hand one last time, Kise was finally able to snatch away Midorima’s glasses. Just as he was about to open the bottle of eyeliner to create his signature style, one look at Midorima’s natural face had him speechless.

“Whoa, Midorimacchi, you could be a model,” he mumbled, tone slightly jealous.

Momoi took a few steps further into the gym, eyeing the blonde and green haired male warily as she did so. With her attention so focused on the two struggling between the bottle of eyeliner, she nearly stumbled over a long pair of legs that were stretched in her way.

“Muk-kun, I almost tripped over you! What are you doing, sitting right there?” With her hands on her hips and a pout on her face, Momoi nearly missed the light blue wig lazily tossed onto Murasakibara’s head.

“I’m not Muk-kun, Sa-chin,” Murasakibara drawled, tossing some chips into his mouth before continuing with, “I’m Kuro-chin. And I’m invisible right now.”


“Ryouta thought it would be nice to dress up as each other for Halloween this year,” a voice from behind Momoi said.

Turning on her heel and away from the oversized Kuroko Murasakibara, Momoi nearly screeched in fear at the person who was standing behind her. Long purple hair, obviously fake, was hanging over their face, the strands parted just enough to let a single golden eye to peek through the odd color. Akashi had his arms folded across his chest, his expression saying he was clearly not amused by this turn of events.

“Oh, Akashicchi, you look good like that!” Kise threw his former captain a thumbs up, jogging over to him now that his task of forcefully putting eyeliner on Midorima had been completed. Once he was closer, he reached a hand out to sweep some of the purple hair out of Akashi’s face, letting his red eye peek through as well. “Oh man… I don’t think I got the right colored contacts to look exactly like you,” Kise pouted.

Backing away from the boys, Momoi looked for the one person she knew would be sane throughout this entire ordeal. He had to be around the gym somewhere. If only he wasn’t so hard to find when he became necessary in moments like these.

“Momoi-san.” Momoi sighed in relief as she heard Kuroko’s voice, but as she turned to face him, she quickly noticed the drawn on lines on his face and the way his hair was gelled to be a bit more spiked up. “Momoi-san, the only one who can beat me is me.”

“Tetsu-kun, not you too!” Momoi felt like she wanted to cry. Nothing could be worse than her crush looking like her childhood friend.

“Yo, Tetsu, how do you think this looks? I could totally pull off dressing up like Satsuki!”

Just then, Aomine walked in the gym with a couple of balloons taped to the inside of his tank top.

Oh yes, it could definitely get worse.

Someone Worthy

Summary: Feyre gets pushed too far.

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,507

Author’s Note: Re-reading the series, this quote made me laugh so hard., and the idea was born from that. 

Parts Two, Three, All on FF or Ao3

“Believe me,” I said to her, “the day you want to marry someone worthy, I’ll march up to his house and hand you over.”

It’s Nesta stomping around the town house that’s the final straw on Feyre’s proverbial camel. The final crack in the dam that sends a flood.

They, the Inner Circle which now included Feyre’s sisters and a reluctant Lucian, had gone out earlier that night for yet another post war cerebration. The High Lord and High Lady ducked out first. The second trimester of pregnancy is harder on the High Lady than she cares to admit to the general populace. And herself really. So it’s pretty common for the two to retire early. Feyre enjoys the rest. And Rhys, well the High Lord will take any time that he can, to dote on his mate, and the future heir to the Night Court, away from the prying eyes of their Inner Circle. When, not if, but when, his doting turns to smothering Feyre’s quick to sic Cassian and Azriel on his sorry ass for bouts of late night training. 

Tonight isn’t one of those nights though. Tonight she just wants him, and a bed, and a mountain of pillows to cocoon her as she gets some much needed sleep. She hasn’t been getting much of it lately, between bouts of random insomnia and late night meetings revolving around the post-war clean up that’s still in progress. 

So when Nesta storms into the townhouse sometime that’s between way too early and much too late, Feyre is more than a little irritated. 

Usually Rhys would handle it, or at the very least, rouse Elain to try and get Nesta under control, but since Elain and Lucian accepted the bond, they’re usually off Mother knows where doing who knows what depraved activity at any given time of the night. Cauldron knows walking in on them once was enough to leave a permanent mental scar. 

So it’s up to him take care of whatever’s vexing his wife and High Lady, but in this case, Rhys isn’t sure what to do. He’s seen her angry before. Seen her decimate opponents on the battlefield as though they’re chaffs of wheat to be tossed into the wind. But this… Pregnant and enraged to the point of literal steam coming from Feyre as her control over water and fire slips and its directed at a family member, specifically Nesta, well he’d rather take on Jurian all over again. 

It’s obvious to anyone with any sense the source of Nesta’s ire, even if they couldn’t hear her slightly inebriated tirade as she crashes around the townhouse. 


It’s been months, months, since the end of the war and the two of them are still dancing around one another. Only the dancing is more like an angry matachin with carefully choreographed blows of words and the occasional fist. Well more than the occasional fist, but the fault lies with Cassian for volunteering to train the hellcat. 

They’re mates. He knows it. His mate knows it. The entire Inner Circle knows it. Hell even the regulars at Rita’s know it, but have either of them done anything about it? No. Even Az and Mor didn’t make it through the war without admitting their feelings for one another.

There are bets amongst the Inner Circle. Bets as to how long they skirt the issue without ever addressing it. Bets as to when someone will actually give in. Bets as to who breaks first. Bets as to how the other will react. Bets as to how long the two of them will spend holed up in the cabin once they decide to seal the bond. 

There are bets upon bets and even Azriel will be shocked that it’s their High Lady who finally snaps. 

“You,” Feyre stabs a finger at Rhys, “Stay here.”

She quickly dresses, donning practical pants and what used to be a loose fitting sweater to combat the cold. It’s snug across the bump that’s just started to show in the last few weeks. Boots barely laced, she throws open the door and storms down the stairs, leaving a startled Cerridwen and Nuala in her wake. Rhys can only follow, stopping to join the twins standing horror struck at the top of the stairs.


Feyre at least waits until her sister turns around before grabbing her wrist and winnowing from the townhouse. A heartbeat passes and Rhys winnows after her into the darkness to land on the steps of the House of Wind. It’s the highest point to which it’s possible to winnow and there are several hundred stairs left to climb. For a moment Rhys wonders what the hell his mate is thinking; if he should intervene. But he doesn’t risk drawing her wrath his way this high up. Not with the safety of his mate, child, and sister-in-law possibly at risk. Not to mention the perverse curiosity that creeps through him. It’s a cat kneading its claws into him, and he wants to see what comes of Feyre’s plan. So he folds himself into darkness to hide from Nesta and other prying eyes, knowing that Feyre knows he’s there, can feel him through the mating bond. Rhys feels a tapping on his shields and when he opens them a sliver for her, the scathing blast he receives tells him not to meddle further. 

‘If I can escape the Weaver, and handle the Bone Carver, half starved and emaciated from my time in the Spring Court, I can certainly handle a set of stairs, pregnant or not,’ she blasts down their bond, and then adds for good measure, ‘Prick.’ before closing her mental shields again. 

Still clutching Nesta’s wrist, Feyre begins the trek up the steps. It’s a steep climb, but Feyre’s right, both women are more than physically capable of making it. 

“What are you doing?” Nesta demands, attempting to wrench her hand free. 

But Feyre will have none of that. Steadfast she continues the hike until the two are at the front entrance of the House of Wind, the one that those not gifted with a set of wings use to enter the house. It’s only then that Feyre remembers that she does have wings, could have used them to circumvent this whole escapade. She can feel Rhys’ dark chuckle down the bond and restrains herself from making a crude gesture in his direction, but just barely.

“Do you remember,” she asks between huffs, finally speaking for the first time since they arrived. Yes she is more than capable of climbing the stairs, but that doesn’t mean she won’t be winded by it. “Do you remember what I told you, when you told me you wanted to marry Tomas Mandray?”

The question is accented by the throwing open of the behemoth doors in front of them. Nesta doesn’t remember. It was so long ago. Literal years and what feels like lifetimes ago. Back when the three Archeron sisters were different people. Back when they were barely scraping by and dependent on Feyre’s hunting skills to live. Back when Prythian and it’s fairy stories were just myths. Back before they were remade and given Fae bodies, immortality, and powers beyond what any of them thought possible. 

Nesta shakes her head, no she doesn’t remember, but Feyre misses the gesture completely as she continues, marching forth with renewed purpose. She surges forward, destination fixed in her mind, though she’s never been there before. Past the formal dinning hall and ballroom where they danced until dawn celebrating the end of the war. Up a flight of stairs she’s yet to use before. Twists and turns through the living quarters, until they stop in front of a unassuming door.

“I told you,” she growls, grabbing for the handle. “I told you ‘the day you want to marry someone worthy, I’ll march up to his house and hand you over.’

At the final word from her mouth and the door swings open revealing a completely disheveled Cassian. Shirtless and clad only in a pair of sleep pants, Nesta can only gape at him as he runs a hand through sleep mussed hair. There’s no way that his keen Fae hearing will have missed Feyre’s comment, and Nesta -and Rhys- wonders if she planned it that way.

“Can I do something for you ladies?” he drawls, voice full of smooth arrogance. Arrogance that’s only heightened by his sleep roughed tone. He braces himself against the door with one hand above his head and if Nesta didn’t know better she’d swear that the bastard is posing for the two of them, or maybe just her. He is, and he’ll tell her that, one day, but for now he waits for his High Lady to answer his question.

“You,” Feyre points at him, finally releasing Nesta’s wrist. “She’s your mate. You deal with this problem.”

And with that she storms off, leaving the two of them gaping at her, at each other, in her wake.

The Foreign Kid

for that “we were best friends but my parents moved me half way across the world when we were 12 and now we’re neighbors” prompt. i changed it a little bit

Taemin swears he’s not pouting as he stares out the window of the airplane. The twelve-year-old has been a moody, annoyed mess since his parents announced that they would be moving. Normally, Taemin wouldn’t be so annoyed about moving. They’ve done it before, for his dad’s job, but it was never this far away from their old house. Hell, it was never out of Seoul, save for the one time they had to move Busan for a year. That was a horrible year for Taemin, because he had to leave his best friend back in Seoul and make new friends for an entire year. He couldn’t have been happier when they moved back to Seoul, because then Jongin was only twenty minutes away instead of a plane trip away.

Keep reading

Blue Eyes and Butterflies [Castiel] (Part 5)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Series Title: Blue Eyes and Butterflies
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Castiel x reader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Warnings: Abrupt ending to the chapter
Word Count: 1,322
Short Description: You come from an Alternate Universe (like a reverse French Mistake) where Supernatural is a TV show and somehow land in the Supernatural universe by the will of the Trickster. You and Castiel go for a supply run and you meet a friendly girl that seems really into Cas. 

Disclaimer: not my gif

[Y/N] = your name

“How was the hunt?” you asked when Sam and Dean returned to the bunker. You had been watching the Avengers film with Castiel when they returned. And by watching the Avengers film, you meant making Castiel listen to you gush over how adorable Steve Rogers is as he listened with an amused expression. “Did the big bad hunters kill the poor monster?” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you zipped up your heeled combat boots. They were the only thing you had from your universe, and you felt a sense of comfort when you put them on.

“Since when are the hunters bad and the monsters poor?” Sam asked, grinning at you, clearly amused by your logic.

“Ever since the hunter is Dean and the monster is not Dean.” You joked, and Dean rolled his eyes.

Keep reading

My Boys Drabbles - Halloween

Here is a faster update. Not faster than @jia911‘s amazing beta skills tho haha thank you, Jules.

This story is from the series My Boys Drabbles but it can also be read as a independent one shot.

  • The Prompt:

@cizavilation asked me to write a story where Owen and Amelia would discuss birth control.

@shepherdess-amelia asked for Owen and Amelia dressed up in Halloween costumes with their kids.

@june-louise asked for Meredith seeking comfort/advice from Amelia

  • Timeline

This one sets between Megan’s birth and the ending of My Boys: Better Days.


Amelia made her way through the living room, silently cursing when she stepped on a glowing toy spider. It was nearly Halloween and they’d spent the entire day decorating the house to prepare for trick or treating.

She finished sorting the candy in the proper bowls and went to the living room. The house was unusually calm: Lucas and Thomas were at Meredith’s, having a sleepover with Bailey and Owen’s mother had taken the twins to the movies. She was recovering from her brain surgery and was doing a lot better. Megan was the only one upstairs, sleeping peacefully in her crib before it was time for her to feed again.

“Owen, did you turn on the Nanny Cam?” Amelia yelled from the bottom floor, through the hole of the stairs.

“Yes!” She heard his voice coming from the upper floor and silently made her way to the couch, running through the TV channels using the remote. It was awfully quiet in the house. When she’d realized they would have a night free of the kids, her initial reaction had been to rejoice on the peace and quiet. But now that their absence was evident in every bit of the house, she couldn’t help missing them.

“Hey, what do you feel like eating for dinner?” Owen cheerfully asked as he came down the stairs, holding the nanny cam in one hand and placing it on the coffee table “I can cook but since it’s just the two of us, I thought we could order tonight.”

Keep reading

Getting Lost

Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer
Summary: Alex had never gotten lost in another person so thoroughly, never experienced how good, how right it could feel.


Alex never naps.

It’s not that she’s opposed to the concept, but between her work for the DEO and protecting her sister, opportunities for midday snoozes are few and far between. She’s tried a handful of times, but she always lies there, awake, staring at the ceiling and feeling guilty. There’s always another alien to catch, another test to run, another lead to track down. She barely has time to sleep most days, let alone nap.

So when she woke on Maggie’s couch with a start, Alex was confused as hell.

“Knew you were tired,” Maggie murmured, her smile warm as she idly ran her fingers through Alex’s hair.

Alex frowned. Her head was pillowed on Maggie’s lap, her knees bent and tucked against the couch. She took a deep breath, inhaling the pleasant combination of Maggie’s shower gel and laundry detergent, barely resisting the desire to turn and snuggle into the other woman. Her eyelids grew heavy again as tension once more bled from her body, Maggie’s nearness seductively relaxing. “Did I fall asleep?” she croaked.

Maggie grinned as the TV played softly in the background. “You missed the whole game, Danvers.”

Scowling, Alex turned her head to check the score. Two other teams were playing now, and the sun had dipped further on the horizon, glinting through Maggie’s windows and bathing the room in golden tones. It was a rare Sunday off for both, and Alex had been determined to spend some time together after barely seeing Maggie all week.

“It’s fine,” Maggie promised, her fingers still drifting pleasantly through Alex’s hair. “You’re… you’re cute when you sleep.” Her nose crinkled a little when she smiled, her dimples just starting to form. Alex realized she was staring, her stomach doing a giddy little flop knowing that smile was just for her.

Keep reading on Ao3.

Wally/Artemis || Winter Heat

Fandom: Young Justice

Rating: T (suggestive language and some content)

Length: 18,500

Summary: AU where Artemis and Wally are voice actors whose job description includes being awesome partners in the booth and nothing but bickering entertainment for their friends outside it. Kissing was never supposed to be a part of their routine.

A/N: Loosely inspired by this charming video of Jason Spisak (and Stephanie Lemelin, but mostly Jason) recalling the recording of the first Artemis/Wally kiss. At first. Originally written into Sarcatt’s askbox (but it was, like, six times shorter and not written nearly half half as good and missing a bunch of scenes, so I definitely recommend this even if you read the first version). A big thanks to Hezpeller for beta reading and providing encouragement!

AO3 | FF.net

Keep reading

Service with a Smile CH 8

A/N: Oooookay, as promised! I apologize, this one took a while, too, but I’m really excited to get the next chapter written to that will most likely be up on Monday? Heck, it’ll be up by tonight if I can get myself to sit down and write, but that’s just wishful thinking.

This one’s not my very favorite, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. I’d like to thank you all for reading this story, though! <3 Without further adieu, chapter 8!

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7

Next: CH 9

The night was beginning to draw to a close, and everybody had long since returned to the hotel or to their homes- Astrid and Hiccup included...

But they were both going to the hotel where Astrid was staying, because Hiccup offered to give her a ride there so her parents would be able to use the rental to bring themselves home after they wrapped things up at the restaurant. The Hoffersons had to collect some decorations, but insisted that their daughter returned to the hotel, much to her refusal. All the same, her parents- and himself- managed to convince her otherwise.

Hiccup drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his truck as Astrid slipped into the vehicle. She clicked her seat belt into place and settled into the passenger seat, only to have Toothless leap off of the dashboard and into her lap. Hiccup was about to voice his apologies, but the blonde didn’t seem like she needed one- she was running her fingers through the feline’s coat with a happy smile on her face.

It was a good thing that Toothless approved of her.

Keep reading