your wife called

Okay but the scene in The Scotsman Saves Jack Pt 2 where Jack jumps good and The Scotsman is like “yeah, yeah” leads me to believe that this is not the first time Jack has pulled this trick on him. Not to mention The Scotsman insisting Jack cheats and Jack arguing that he does not. So, in order to further the headcanon of secretly Slytherin petty-ass smirk Jack I give you this list of similar events:

-One time they were climbing a mountain, and The Scotsman made a bet that whoever made it to the top first was the best warrior of the two. Jack just fucking anime jumps up there in a couple leaps, and by the time The Scotsman gets to the top he’s sitting there with some tea like “I hope the long journey did not tax you friend”. The Scotsman gets some tea of course, Jack isn’t THAT petty and smirky.

-Anytime they make any bet and Jack bends the rules or finds a loophole The Scotsman insists he cheated but Jack genuinely believes a bent rule is not a broken one and pretends to make a huff about how The Scotsman is offending his honor.

-The Scotsman thinks he’s finally got him when it comes down to technology, because even though he carries around a sword all old-school he grew up in this time and Jack is a dinosaur. So he tries to show off his skills by showing Jack how he can use a cell-phone, but Jack just politely asks some nearby teenagers for help operating it and because he’s a famous and super pretty samurai they help him.

-One time during a fight they’re counting kills a la Gimli and Legolas style and Jack grabs The Scotsman’s gun leg to shoot down a robot and The Scotsman insists that the kill should belong to him.

-The reason Jack got so nervous when The Scotsman suggested wrestling as the final test is because it’s the one thing he can never beat him in. Even though he trained in it with the masters of masters The Scotsman just fucking lays on him and is too heavy to move and just sits there laughing while Jack struggles.

-Jack usually at least gets him off by pointing off in the distance and being like “look, your wife is calling to you” and somehow it works every time.

Imagine you're an unhelpful husband

You sit on the couch, idly watching the basketball game. It’s not really a great game if you’re being honest, but it’s the only thing on TV during a slow night. You go to take another sip of your beer and finish the can, crumpling it up and placing it next to you on the couch.

You hear the garage door open as your wife comes inside huffing and puffing. She slowly made her to the kitchen and you hear her put the groceries on the counter. “Hey, can you help me bring the rest of the bags in?” she says as she waddles into the living room. Her maternity top is stretched tightly around her eight-months-pregnant belly and she’s already sweating.

“Ahhh, give me like ten minutes babe. The game just got really good!” you reply. It hadn’t, to be honest, but you really didn’t want to move at the moment. She gives you a death glare and waddles back to the garage in a huff. “And get me another beer!” you call.

She’s gone for longer than usual, but comes back in and hands you a cold can. “Here,” she mutters before heading back to the kitchen. You go to take a sip- she already cracked it for you! What a great wife. The cold liquid sweetly flows down your throat. You look at the can incredulously. This tasted incredible… certainly nothing like the normal swill! You eagerly gulp down the rest of the beer and set it next to you on the couch.

A few moments later, you start to feel funny. Your eyes begin to droop and your vision blurs as the TV starts to change colors. “Woah…what the…” you murmur. The world begins to spin as your eyes grow heavier and heavier. You pass out on the couch, slipping into unconsciousness.

You don’t really know how much time passes- it could have been seconds, or weeks, or years. You start to groggily awaken, your vision slowly coming back as you regain clarity. “Ughhh,” you groan softly. Your body feels heavy and cumbersome and your head is pounding.

“Hi honey,” you hear your wife’s voice say sweetly. You try to focus on her form as she stands in front of you.

“Wha…ugh…what just happened?” you ask, rubbing your eyes. Your body is still heavy and you feel pinned down to the couch. You blink rapidly as you gaze upon your wife. She’s standing in front of with a smirk, her hands on her skinny hips. Wait a moment… she wasn’t pregnant! Her midsection was flat and toned like it used to be.

“Woah! You’re-what happened to the baby?” you cry, trying to stand up. You manage to get up by about two inches before falling back to the couch. You look down to your lower half. Sitting in your lap is perfectly round, swollen belly and two perky breasts are perched on top.

“Aw, what’s the matter, sweetie? Can’t get up?” your wife asks. You look down at your body incredulously, placing both hands atop your swollen mound. No, this couldn’t be real… there was no way this was happening. Yet your skin responds to your touch and it feels so lifelike as it sits heavily on top of your legs. You feel a flutter inside you at the same moment a lump appears on your skin. Your eyes go wide.

“Ah, yes, kicks are wonderful the first time you feel them! Just wait until she kicks you right in the rib,” your wife says, placing a hand on your belly and rubbing softly. You can’t speak, still trying to process what just happened.

“What…how…what the hell?!” you cry. No, this couldn’t be happening! You’re a man! And your wife is pregnant, not you! How the hell could this even happen? You had to be dreaming.

Your wife laughs and takes a seat beside you on the couch, putting her hand back on your baby bump. “Well you see, honey, do you remember all those times you blew me off these past eight months? When you never vacuumed, or cleaned, or cooked, or even offered to help me as our child grew inside me? You are such an asshole. I was suffering and you couldn’t even be bothered to stop watching a stupid basketball game to get up and help me. Were you even going to do anything when the baby finally got here?!” she cried, her face growing angrier and angrier with each passing word. She took a deep breath and calmed herself, but her eyes still stared daggers through you.

“When we got married, I debated whether or not I should tell you that I was a witch. Then I got pregnant and you became totally useless. So I started working on a potion about three months ago. It took forever to make, and I’m honestly surprised I could even figure it out. So many variables to consider…” she trailed off, clicking her tongue. “Anyway, I finally finished it two days ago and was debating whether I could actually go through with it. Then you made me carry in all those groceries by myself, and I knew it was the right decision. So, long story short, you’re 36 weeks pregnant, I’m not, the baby is in you now, and you’re going to give birth in a month,” she finished.

Your head spun as you tried to process this. You were still convinced this was a joke. There was no way this could actually be happening. A sharp pain suddenly manifested in your ribs. You hissed and doubled over, both hands involuntarily clutching your belly. That felt so real…

“This is real, sweetie,” your wife said with a chuckle. “I know what you’re thinking. This is not a dream. Come with me, I think I can help you figure this out,” she said, pinching your popped out belly button as she hopped up. She pulled you off the couch and you wobbled as you tried to stand. Your belly was so heavy as it hung off your midsection. It felt like a dead weight just sitting there. Your breasts sat perky and full on your chest and jiggled slightly as you tried to find your balance.

“Follow me. And take your time- we don’t want you falling and hurting your precious cargo,” your wife said with a smile as she walked to the door. You tried to follow her and found you were forced into a slow waddle. A hand immediately went to back as it already started to ache.

“Now, like I said, I made a very complex potion that required a TON of rare ingredients and lots of careful planning. I’d say it was my finest accomplishment as a witch. So, just to make sure you really would learn your lesson, I made a few…changes… to our living situation,” she said as she opened the door. She stepped out onto the porch and you followed her outside.

The world around you looked the same. Everything was the right color and the air felt warm. Your neighborhood looked exactly the same, and the car parked in your driveway still had a scratch on the side.

“Hi Mr. Keller!” your wife called. You look across the street to your neighbor’s house. Mr. Keller stood outside. His brown hair looked the same from here, but he sported a perfectly round belly, just like you. He idly rubbed the mass as he watered the flowers. He was wearing a flowing green maternity dress, big and loose enough to comfortably accommodate his growing passenger.

“Hey you two! Great weather today!” he called back. Your eyes widened again and your felt sick.

“See, honey, in this world, men are the ones who get pregnant. Matter of fact, they’ve always been the ones who got pregnant! Nobody here has ever heard of a woman having a baby. It’s just silly. And, since I created this reality, I wanted to make sure I could really make this as great for me as possible. Husbands here don’t work- when they get married, they stay at home and take care of the house. Most men get pregnant as soon as possible, or at least when their wife gets a good job.” she explained happily. You had no words and had to stumble back inside, leaning against the wall as you tried to process this. The baby kicked again and settled in a new position. You suddenly had to pee.

“And, of course, there has to be a way for a baby to get in and out of there, you know?” your wife says as she comes back through the door and pats your rounded belly. “So there’s some, ah, changes to your equipment,” she smirks, reaching down to your crotch. She brushes her hand between your thighs and you realize that there’s nothing down there. No cock, no balls, nothing- just an interesting feeling between your legs. You realize what this means and you start to cry. This was too much.

“Shhhh, honey, it’s okay…” your wife says, taking your hand and rubbing your bump. “…I’ll make sure you have fun tonight.” She guides your hand to her own nether regions and you feel the unmistakable outline of a huge dick. Tears roll down your face as the baby gave another kick. You were in hell.

(Hi all, this is my first submission here! Might continue this if people generally want to see another installment)

Look what we got here

Hi I just found your account and I love it !!!! Can I request something daryl Dixon , where you are pregnant with his child - you two are married . And you are chosen for Negan’s line up so daryl gets super shouty etc - you can choose the ending xx

I may have gone a little over board with with one… my bad yall. Oh well enjoy, requests are open 

Originally posted by negandarylsatisfaction

The cold dirt was undeath my knees. My husband was right next to me, I knew that he had to be in shock like the rest of us. I felt my heart beating so fast that it was almost in my throat and my brain pulsing from the anticipation. Not only am I worried for my life that could possibly end because of the Saviors or even because of Negan himself. As we are on our knees waiting for our destiny I could feel our child start to move inside of me. I was almost seven months into the pregnancy, it was obvious that I was pregnant. I knew that if I got chosen it wouldn’t just be life ending, it would be our child’s life as well. Which I know would destroy Daryl, he really didn’t have anyone else to show his true self to. And losing me and our baby would destroy him.

As we all were knelt in front of the camper I tried to think that maybe I would be spared from being slain. However I knew that I most likely wasn’t going to be, it doesn’t matter who you are or what your condition was. No one cares anymore, it’s a one for all out in this world.

Keep reading

Found this and thought it was perfect!


You think I am an expensive, spoiled queen?
You think my allowance is high?
You think you “pay for sex” for “youth” or “being hot”?

You don’t ….

You pay me for always look my best, buffed and polished
You pay me for being a fantasy, because you know how reality looks at home.
You pay me for going to the gym, and keep in shape, you don’t want a saggy mistress…
You pay me for receiving naughty pics during endless businessmeetings
You pay me for naughty messages during boring familydinners
You pay me for keeping my suitcase always ready, to travel to you with only few hours notice
You pay me to not get mad if you cancel meetings at the very last moment
You pay me to don’t hear about troubles leaving from my work, or babysitters
You pay me to not hear about my problems
You pay me for always smiling

You pay to call me in the middle of the night, because you have to tell someone about the successful deal you just closed
You pay me to complain about your colleagues, fellow boardmembers or competitors
You pay me to get rid of your daily stress by talking to someone you can trust
You pay me to Skype when you feel lonely in your hotelroom
You pay me because you always forget about the timedifference, when calling
You pay me for roomservice meals, while you are downstairs for a business dinner
You pay me for waiting in heels and uncomfortable lingerie until you come back from your businessmeeting.

You pay me because you cannot offer me a mutual future
You pay me to don’t have any expectations
You pay me to be able to carry on and stay with your kids and wife
You pay me for Christmas alone, when you are with your family
You pay me for leaving without drama when you end the relationship
You pay me to whine about your wife, not wanting sex with you
You pay me to complain about your wife, not understanding you
You pay me to not call your wife when I get upset
You pay me for not finding your kinks back in the headlines

You pay me to believe you are the most skilled lover in the world
You don’t pay me for sex !


Married Life with: Mamamoo


  • wears a traditional, white dress when you get married
  • has everything planned out (have kids after 2 years, buy a dog in 3, move to a better house in 1 year, etc)
  • tries to be a perfect wife, the kind to make you lunch everyday and dinner and the like
  • she’s a typical homemaker
  • the kind of wonder woman who keeps the house running; cleaning, cooking, doing laundry, so on
  • a goddess like who is that organised I barely do my hw
  • kisses you when you come home and before you leave

Originally posted by katmcnamara


  • not the typical homemaker
  • she has her own busy schedule to deal with and so housework is generally shared between you both. unless something comes up, like if one of you is sick/busy/gone away for example
  • likes being called your “wife” and melts whenever you say it
  • gazes fondly at her wedding ring when she’s bored or having an artistic block and all of a sudden, her energy rises
  • chooses to wear a suit on the wedding day
  • even after 50 years of marriage, she still looks fondly at you and holds you like you’re made of glass

Originally posted by gay-shit-girlgroups-do


  • super excited about marriage
  • you’re the couple that never leaves the “newlywed” stage in the sense that there’s not much fighting and the warm feeling of love never fades
  • you’re both very comfortable with each other
  • she feels no hesitation in letting you rub her unshaven legs or in farting around you
  • and her heart still beats faster with every kiss, as if it were the first
  • considers butt smacks an appropriate way of greeting you

Originally posted by mrlazyputa


  • the wedding ring does nothing to sway suitors
  • she still gets hit on and proudly, she’s waving her left hand around like “do u not see this RING?”
  • feels so lucky to have you but you disagree
  • “how did I marry someone so perfect?” you wonder often and hyejin’s looking confused like “what do u mean? the only perfect one here is you”
  • sometimes makes playful jokes or jabs like if you buy the wrong brand of cheese in the grocery shop she’s like “wow u loser why did I marry you?”
  • her wedding day was the happiest she’s ever felt, a time she thinks back on when she’s missing you or feeling down

Originally posted by byulhoseok


Finn Balor x Reader

Requested by @nickysmum1909

#21: This is, by far, the dumbest thing you ever done.

Originally posted by prowrestlingnow

“You can open ya eyes now love!” Finn beamed from one ear to his other. When Y/N opened her eyes hundred of thousands of lego peaces were scattered in their yard. It took her a moment to realise what lay infront of her feet. In between of dozens of candles there were precisely arranged legos that displayed the lettering ‘Marry me?“.

"Finn!” she squeeled into her sleave covered hands. She looked stunned on the ground, then to Finn and finally back to the lego covered grass, “Are you serious?” she asked uncertain.

“Of course, Y/N. I love ya and these last two years showed me that I want to spent ta rest  of ma life with ya” he lowered himself on his knee, “Y/N Y/L/N, would you do me the honor and take me as your husband?”

This is, by far, the dumbest thing you ever done.” she blurted out softly shaking her head. “This looks so expensive, it was expensive, wasn’t it?” The big smile on her face irritated Finn. This was definitely not the reaction he expected. Was she going to dumb him? His face fell imediatly.

“W-what do ya mean love?” he chuckled nervously, “O-oh, y-you don’t like it?I- I’m sorry.. I just thought it would be kinda cute but still romantic..” he began to ramble when she cradled his face in between her hands.

“Finn, love, I don’t like it. I love it! And I love you and it would be the greatest honor to be called your wife.” happy tears were flowing down her cheeks. Finn let out a breath he had hold.

“Oh dear god, and I thought you’d say no.” he reliefed sighed, gettimg up in a swift and pulling her tightly against his chest peppering her face and head with kisses.

“I’m sorry, I was just so shocked. This was a misfortunate reaction of me.” she giggled against him.

“You’re making me the happiest man on earth right now.” he smiled down at her, “Ms. Balor.” those words sounded divine in Y/Ns’ ears.

“You don’t know how long I waited to be called like that!”

anonymous asked:


@madelyne-pryor @kurtwxgners

Everything changed when he supposedly came back from the past- which you still didn’t believe, it was too out there, even with the fact that you had seen some things as an X-Man. He was more tentative and weird around you, like he didn’t know you as well as he had before. 

You can see the way he looks at Jean, like he had when he first came to Xavier’s school and maybe, just maybe, he really did alter the timeline but you shake that out of your head.

The last night you spent with him, which you hadn’t even known would be the last night you share with him, is filled with fevered kissing and a bruising grip on your hip and on your wrists. 

You don’t want it to end, it’s the first time in a while since he felt comfortable with doing this with you.

“Logan, please, I’m so close.” You whimper out, writhing beneath him and trying to pull your wrists from his tight grasp. You just wanted to touch him and get closer.

It’s not long before he’s grunting in your ear, thrusting once, twice, three more times before stilling over you, letting go of your wrists and holding your face, not wanting to talk just yet, and presses his lips against yours.

He leaves after you fall asleep, pulling on his clothes and packing as much as he can into a small bag. Logan wishes he could stay but he needed to figure out whatever this was. You had been his teammate, a friend- not a lover, not his wife. Just a few days, that’s all he would need.

But time flies by too quickly and one thing turns into another and his time gone from Xavier’s goes up to almost eight years.

The teachers and students are happy to see him, Kurt and Storm especially. But you, you are not. In fact, you’re doing the exact opposite of what he thought you’d do. 

“I’m home.”

“Seven years, Logan,” you say, pushing a finger into the center of his chest and backing him up against the wall of your bedroom, “It’s been seven fucking years and all you have to say. I’m home? I sure as hell deserve more than that. Where the fuck have you been?”

“Hey,” Logan swats away your finger and grabs your shoulders. “I had a good reason.”

“Don’t give me any god damn excuses. Get out. I don’t want to see you.”

“That’s gonna be hard kid, we’re living under the same roof.”

You scoff at him and push his hands off of you, sending them back towards his chest as you take a step back. The kids below you must hate the fact that you’re practically slamming your feet on the ground as you move to the door. 

“I am- was- your wife. Don’t call me kid, Logan. Get. Out.” 

He huffs, pulling his bag back over his shoulder and walks down the hall, avoiding the kids like they’re the plague until a little boy comes running down the hall, bumping right into him.

“Watch where you’re going, kid.” He grunts out, not stopping to look back as the little boy runs towards your room, quick to tell you of the mean man.

Do I Wanna Know?

Hello!! So this is a Negan/You super short thing I wanted to write for quite a while now, basically since I found out Negan was a cheater.

Summary: Pre-ZA, a call from Negan’s wife stirs up trouble. Angst galore. No smut(I know, I can’t believe it either). Also, this takes place long before Lucille’s cancer diagnosis.

Warnings: strong language, cheating, Negan being an asshole.

Word count: 927

Negan rolled off you with a satisfied groan, a sheen of sweat glistening on his toned body. You struggled to catch your breath. “Wow, that was…”

“Fan-fucking-tastic, I know,” he bellowed. “I’m gonna take a shower, wanna join me for round number fucking two?” he asked with a mischievous grin, sitting up on the four-poster bed.

Keep reading

Baby Names and Impulsive Decisions

A/N: Based off Emily’s dream sequence she was thinking about Alison being a Dilaurentis-Fields, and Alison was wearing a wedding ring. This was inspired by the numerous baby name debates I’ve seen on tumblr, I didn’t think this take had been done yet, and it ended up becoming something more. (Will be posted as Together ch 6) Anyway, I’m excited to see the finale, pissed I have to work and therefore wait an extra 3 hours before I can see it. I hope you enjoy this mess of a mashup!

“Ok this is getting nowhere.” Emily huffed, leaning over the kitchen island she had been siiting at for the past 2 hours. After getting home from a trip to the grocery store, Alison began preparing dinner, not allowing Emily, with her poor cooking skills, to help. As the blonde was working, Emily brought up the topic of baby names, while it was still early in Alison’s pregnancy, the topic excited Emily. However, after 2 hours of deliberating and not coming up with anything solid, Emily was feeling exhausted. She offered to table the discussion for perhaps a more feasible one, “What about the last name?”

Alison turned her attention away from the pot on the stove to question Emily’s query, “What do you mean?”

“What will the baby’s last name be?” Emily hesitates a moment before adding her suggestion, “I’m thinking hyphenated. Dilaurentis-Fields.”

“Em, don’t be silly. It should be Fields. It’s your kid.” The blasé way Alison spoke all while turning back to face the stove, made Emily wary.  

“Biologically sure, but this is your baby too.” Her eyes bore into the back of her girlfriend’s head, silently willing her to turn around, this was not a conversation Emily wanted to have to her back.

Alison must have sensed the serious tone in Emily’s voice because she made her way over to the kitchen island, stood across from the brunette and rebutted, “I know. I just mean you have more of the connection. It’s important kids feel connected to their parents, and something like a shared last name will do that.” She vaguely remembered reading an article or something about this debate.

“All the more reason we should hyphenate. Plus no one knows they are my eggs. It would be weird for them to take only my name.” Emily started to feel uneasy, how could Alison not care about this. It was kind of a big deal.

Alison checked the stove again, not wanting to burn their almost finished meal. “They’ll know eventually, when this AD mess comes out, or when the baby comes out looking exactly like you.” She looked at her girlfriend as she said this, reminding her that this situation wasn’t as simple as Emily may think.

“Ok so when that roadblock comes, we tell people we decided to have a baby, used my eggs, let you carry, same sex couples do that all the time.” She was reaching for any explanation to convince Alison that it wasn’t as complicated as she thought it was.

“Sure, and we’re gonna tell them we decided to have a baby together before we were ever romantically involved…” Alison implored, raising her brow with a questioning smirk.

Emily became flustered, her girlfriend had a point, “I wouldn’t say ever; besides we can figure all that out later. I’m more concerned about what our child’s name will be.”

The extra emphasis on ‘our’ did not get lost on Alison who simply nodded in response before rebutting, “And I told you, it should be Fields.”

Exacerbated, Emily threw her hands up, “Why are you so against the hyphen?”

“Em, I’m not. I just prefer Fields.” Alison’s tone was soft and assuring. She did not want to start a fight over something so silly, especially when dinner was almost ready. She was eating for two these days, although sometimes it felt like three.

Her girlfriend still wasn’t having it, “Why?”

Alison sighed before turning the burner off, it’s obvious Emily wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon, and she didn’t want to burn the house down. She made her way around the island so she could be closer to the brunette, “Dilaurentis used to mean something, but now it’s just a reminder of that ‘bratty girl who faked her death’ and got her friends tortured for years.” Her air quotes lacking in enthusiasm, as was her voice.

“Ali,” Emily reached out to place a hand on Alison’s arm.

Quickly, Alison cut her off, “No Em, look, I know how this town works, I’ve heard the things people have said about me. When people found out I would be teaching their kids, oh man the gossip, the slander.” Her exaggeration was meant to imply the vast volume of instances where she heard the people of Rosewood destroy her, albeit already shameful character.

She continued her speech, to which Emily was intently listening, never breaking eye contact, “Now, I can take it, hell I deserve it because most of what they say is true.” Emily silently took one of Alison’s hands in her own, happy the blonde didn’t pull it away like before. “I don’t want that negative stigma to follow my child.”

Emily finally looked away, finding a spot on the counter that seemed suddenly very interesting, “I guess I never thought of it like that.”

“I have, a lot,” Alison pulled her hand away, gently wrapping her arms around Emily’s neck, “in fact, I was hoping that one day,” she tightened her hold, bring Emily as close to her face as possible, “when we get married,” her hands tangled in the brunette’s hair, gently scraping her scalp, “you’d let me become a Fields…then we’d all be on the same page.” She alludes to their unborn child at the end. The Field’s family, the image in Alison’s mind.

“You want to marry me?” Emily’s voice was barely above a whisper, laced with an air or disbelief.

“I’d like to.” Alison simply states, staring intently into Emily’s eyes. She shies away, before timidly adding, “If you’ll have me?.”

A huge grin overcame Emily’s face, heat radiating off her face from the intense blush. “Are you kidding? Of course!” Emily pulled Alison in for a long, hunger-filled kiss, all the while internally chastising herself for her schoolgirl-esque giddiness. She breaks away in a laugh, oh the things Alison makes her feel.

“Did we just get engaged?” The question was asked in a light hearted, loving tone, but the pause, and the look on Alison’s face after it hung in the air, took on an unexpected seriousness, neither girl saw coming.

“I mean…consider it a pre-engagement?” Emily’s hands snaked their way around Alison’s back, “I don’t think we really have time to plan a wedding with a baby on the way.”

Alison’s signature smirk grew in response, “I don’t know,” she played with a lock of Emily’s hair, her arms still around the girl’s neck. “Aria terrorized us as AD’s minion and planed her wedding. Hanna and Caleb got married at city hall. I think we could pull it off.” Her tone was flirty and playful.

“Are you being serious?” The brunette couldn’t tell.

A shrug of shoulders with an accompanying, “Why not,” came from the blonde, before continuing on a more serious note, “it’s not like we have to get married tomorrow, or even a year from now. But I know I want to be your wife, let’s just call it what it is, fiancée.” Her playful tone from before returned with the use of the French word. A soft smile graced her lips as she thought, what was it with them and the country of France?

“We don’t have rings.” Still in disbelief, Emily could only lightly laugh continuing the ‘joke.’

“So we’ll go shopping tomorrow.” Alison pleaded, “Em, I love you. Like you said the other day, we’ve waited so long to get to this place together, why wait any longer?” There was no flirtly, playful, joking sense in her voice. She was dead serious, she wanted to marry Emily Fields.

It took a moment for it to truly sink in for the brunette, her girlfriend, the girl she’s loved forever, the girl she once thought she’d never have a future with, Alison Dilaurentis, was asking her, no pleading with her to marry her. The amount of times Emily has dreamed of this moment, it was actually happening, and everything felt so organic. How a conversation about baby names led them to getting engaged, sounds so crazy, and yet it felt perfect. Like they’ve both said, they took so long to come together, officially, when in actuality they had always been committed to one another. Alison said all her past relationships failed because she was in love with Emily, and Emily felt she could never fully love someone as long as Alison had a hold of her heart. Why not go ahead and give in to the inevitable?

Emily pulled her girlfriend, or now fiancée, in for another kiss, “Okay, future Mrs. Fields, whatever you say.” The look on Alison’s face was enough to kill any doubt she may have had about this rather impulsive decision. The blonde had never stared at her with more love and desire than right at this moment.

Alison pulled Emily in for a crazed filled kiss that lasted for what felt like forever, and yet neither girl wanted it to end. When they broke apart, Alison smiled widely, and earnestly asked, “So we’re going with Fields?”

“If that’s what you really want, yes.” Alison eagerly nodded in confirmation, “I love you no matter who you are.” Emily pulled Alison into her arms as tightly as she could, relishing in the feeling. If you had told Emily seven years ago, 5 years ago, hell even one year ago that she would end up engaged to her ‘straight’ best friend she fell for all those years ago, she would’ve laughed in your face. Even now it still felt like a dream, and if it was, she hoped she’d never wake up.

A Silmarillion fanfic, chapter eleven

Chapter summary: Tuilindien gives her presentation, and Carnistir asks for advice from the one brother who hasn’t been irritating him lately.

Story summary: Sometimes your heart chooses for you before you even know there is a choice to make, and then all that can be done is find out whether love can build bridges across differences and fears. This is my story of how Caranthir comes to be married, with Caranthir’s family members alternately helping and hindering his attempts at courting.

Rating: Teen and up audiences; Chapter length: ~5,800 words

Tag-type thingies for the whole story: years of the trees, romance, falling in love, family, courtship, anger management issues, the Noldor, the Vanyar, some fluff and some angst

Chapter notes: We know very little about architecture and city planning in Valinor so you can’t blame me for inaccuracy for writing the Eldar having their scientific conference (the colloquium) in an amphitheatre. Amphitheatres are cool.

(Also posted on AO3 etc.)


Chapter XI // Conference, conciliation and consultation

A week is a very long time, Carnistir discovers, when one only looks forward to a single hour of every day and spends the rest of the time trying to make one’s infuriatingly obstinate father change his mind.

It all goes well, though. Having lunch with Tuilindien every day is wonderful, wherever they eat. On three days they spend their shared lunch hour at the park closest to the library, eating food Carnistir purchased from the marketplace. He likes those days best as they offer a sense of informality and intimacy that he enjoys much more than the refined atmosphere of the finest eateries of Tirion.

He doesn’t even mind it very much when Tuilindien’s younger sister joins them for one of the lunches in the park.

‘I’m so sorry, Carnistir’, Tuilindien whispers to him while Cirincë is absorbed in examining the fried vendace Carnistir brought for today’s meal. 'I didn’t mean to spoil our time together, but Lirulinë just left her in the library and told the librarians that I would look after her. I couldn’t leave her there alone. I have no idea what Lirulinë was thinking – she knew I was meeting you.’

Keep reading

Bring Her Home

A/N: Conclusion to A Living Nightmare. @coveofmemories


Minutes passed, your throat becoming sore from screaming for your child. That woman had just walked out the door with your baby girl and you couldn’t do anything to stop it. Focus. You needed help. As you searched around the room, you saw your phone. You reached for it, but it was just beyond your grasp. Pants. Those you could reach. Maybe if you flung them just right, you’d be able to bring the phone close enough to grab. After numerous attempts in vain, you were able to touch the end with your fingers, slowly bringing it toward you.

Shakily, you dialed 911. “Hello, DC 911. What is your emergency?”

“I need an ambulance and the authorities at 5463 Jefferson Avenue,” you said, reaching down as best you could to feel at your stomach. You could feel a slight sensation, but the anesthetic had yet to wear off. “I’m an Agent with the FBI. I was pregnant. Some attacked me as I walked through the door and she took my baby.” You started to scream. Where was your little girl? What was that woman doing with her?

The hesitation on the opposite end of the line made you wonder whether or not the line had gone dead. “What do you mean? You were pregnant? But someone took your baby?”

“A woman,” you cried. “A woman came into my house, knocked me out and performed a c-section on me. I was only three weeks from my own. She walked out of the house with my baby. Please help me!” 

You sobbed as the woman on the other end did her best to console you, insisting that she was sending out an ambulance to your address. “Hold on tight, miss. Help is on its way.” Within five minutes, during which time the operator stayed on the phone, the EMTs arrived.

The young man kneeled down beside you, checking your vitals as the other EMTs put you on a stretcher. “What happened?”

“I was pregnant,” you reiterated. “A woman came in here and performed a c-section on me. She took my baby. Please contact my husband. Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. He has to find our baby…He has to…he has to…”


Another false alarm, Aiden had been found about halfway between the Bureau and Spencer and Y/N’s home. They returned him to his father at home - his father thanking them profusely as he made his way out the door with his son in hand to go visit the mother. 

Spencer, JJ and Luke returned to their vehicle, ready to head back to the Bureau and assure Y/N that Aiden had been returned home safely. Suddenly, Spencer’s phone rang, sounding the car’s speakers. “Hello,” Spencer said, pressing the button to answer the phone.

“Is this Dr. Spencer Reid?” the disembodied voice asked warily. 

“Yes, this is he. Who is this?

“My name is Christian Howler. I’m an EMT. Your wife has been taken to DC General. We need you to meet us there,” he said.

His heart dropped. All sorts of thoughts racing through his mind. “What’s wrong? Is Y/N okay?”

In the background, Spencer heard the beeping of a monitor. “Just get there as soon as you can. We’ll explain when you get here,” he said, quickly hanging up.

“Luke, step on it,” Spencer said, disconnecting the phone. 

Without hesitation, Luke put the siren on top of the car, weaving in and out of traffic while JJ called the rest of the team to let them know something was wrong. As they pulled into the parking lot of DC General, Spencer rolled out of the car, not even waiting for Luke to put it in park.

“My wife!” he screamed, running up to the front desk in a panic. “My wife, Y/N, was brought in. An EMT named Christian Howler called from the ambulance. What’s going on?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Spencer saw a man approach. He introduced himself as the same EMT he had been on the phone with moments before. The rest of the team made their way inside as the Howler explained what had happened. “We don’t know exactly what happened,” he started. “Only what she told us. Your wife called 911, saying she’d been knocked out at your home. A woman performed a c-section on her.” Spencer collapsed backwards, being caught before he hit the floor by Luke and Rossi. “She’s barely awake, but okay. Whoever did this to her knew what they were doing; she said the woman took the baby.”

“My baby’s nowhere to be found,” he cracked. “I have to talk to her. I have to talk to Y/N. I need to see if she remembers anything about the woman, so I can find our baby. Please,” he begged, upon seeing the nurse debate whether or not to let him in the room. 

Reluctantly, the nurse agreed, showing them back to the room where Y/N was waiting, barely awake, tears staining her face. “Spence,” she cried, “I’m so sorry. She took the baby. She took our little girl.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he sobbed. It was a girl. They’d been convinced they were having another boy. “We’re gonna find her, but you have to tell me everything you remember about the woman.” The rest of the team gathered around her, doing their best (which wasn’t enough) to comfort her. All Y/N needed was her baby in her arms.

A sob ripped through her before she was able to steady herself enough to talk. “She had dark brown hair and light brown eyes,” she started. “My height. Maybe about 150 pounds. She said people took her baby away. I think she’s suffering from postpartum psychosis. If I had to guess, she gave birth within the last month. She also said she was a doctor. That’s why I’m okay. She knew what she was doing. She just wanted the baby - Please find her, Spence. Bring her home.” She broke down, sobbing uncontrollably as Spencer kissed her sweetly. 

“I’m going to find her,” he said emphatically - the rest of the team nodding in agreement. “You need to rest. I will find her and bring her back.” Hesitantly, he turned around the leave the room, the rest of the team following behind. He looked toward Emily, as if asking permission to take control of the case.

“Your call,” she said. “However, when we find the unsub, you take a step back. I already let Garcia know what’s happening and told her to stay in her office.”

“Good,” he said, taking his phone out of his pocket and dialing Garcia. “Penelope, I need you to do a search for a woman aged 25-35, brown hair, brown eyes, 5′3″, 150 pounds. She’s probably given birth within the past month and she’s been in the medical profession at some point. Y/N said she claimed she was a doctor.”

“It’s going to take me a minute to search, but I will hit you back as soon as I have something,” she said confidently. “We are going to find the baby.” Garcia always had a knack for remaining confident and completely on top of her game when the pressure was on. Everyone did. That’s what made them the best at what they did.

After Spencer hung up, they all ran to the car, awaiting Garcia’s search. Y/N had retained a vast amount of information despite the trauma she’d endured. With Garcia’s help, they’d probably have the name within the hour. “While we wait for Garcia, let’s go back to my house,” he said, taking the wheel. “JJ, can you call my babysitter for me and tell them not to come home? Tell her what’s going on and I’ll contact her as soon as I can. I’d do it myself but I can barely think right now.”

“I’ve got it, Spence,” she said grabbing his phone to make the call. As Spencer sped toward home, he heard JJ telling Casey about what happened at their home. “Try not to let the boys know for now. Spencer is going to call as soon as he can. Spence, Casey said that Y/N texted them not to come home before, but it didn’t sound like her. Maybe the unsub said not to come back,” JJ said confused as she hung up the phone.

As they entered the house, Spencer stopped in his tracks - the pool of blood on the floor staring him in the face. Y/N was opened up like an animal, right her on the floor of their home. “You okay, kid?” Rossi asked, watching as the horror played its way across Spencer’s face.

“I’m scared,” he whispered. The rest of the team was already examining the area for any kind of clue. “What if we can’t find my daughter?” He had a daughter. He couldn’t breathe. They needed to find her. 

Rossi clapped him on the shoulder. “We’re going to find her. We’re going to help you keep your promise and bring her back home to Y/N and the boys.” Rossi made sure Spencer was upright before he moved from his side to take a look at the scene. 

“Penelope, do you have anything?” he asked, hurriedly picking up the phone after half a ring.

“Of course I do,” she said, feigning hurt, “It took me a minute because I couldn’t get anything with such a specific search, so I worked my way backward because I’m a genius. I found female doctors in the area that have given birth within the last six weeks. None of them really fit the description you gave, but a woman with light brown eyes and blond hair was recently discharged from her role as an OBGYN with Washington Metropolitan Hospital after being diagnosed with bipolar disorder and refusing steady medication. She had a baby three weeks ago, but he was taken away by Child Services after they did an evaluation and qualified her as unfit. Better yet, although she’s listed as blond on her license, I did a little digging and there was a piece done in a local newspaper about her discharge from the hospital. She very recently dyed her hair brown. Name’s Hannah Montgomery and she’s located at 745 Rockledge Avenue in DC.”

“Thank you, Garcia, I love you,” Spencer said, able to breathe for the first time since he was notified Y/N was at the hospital less than two hours ago.

“Go find your baby, Boy Wonder,” she said. “I’m headed to the hospital now for Y/N.” With that, she hung up.

“We have an address,” Spencer said. “I’ll drive. Emily, you take the lead when we get there. I obviously can’t trust myself. Just…save my baby girl.”


Again, Spencer gunned it toward the address Garcia supplied them with. The house was just outside of the main city area, far enough from other houses that no one would take notice. Taking care not to make any noise, Emily approached the window and signaled over the mic. “I see a woman in a rocking chair. I’m going in. Everyone stay behind me.”

Spencer watched in suspense as Emily walked into the house, gun holstered, and began talking to the woman holding his baby. “Hannah,” she said. “My name is Emily. I’m just here to talk.”

“You can’t take her from me,” she whispered, hugging the baby closer to her chest. “They took my baby away. Is the woman okay?” 

“Her mother?” Emily asked. “Yes, she’s okay. You did a good job with the procedure. I know you just wanted to take care of her. Like you want to take care of the baby. You don’t want to hurt her right?”

Hannah shook her head, gliding her finger over the baby’s tuft of hair - she had Spencer’s hair. “I just want to take care of her.”

“You can,” emily said, taking Spencer off guard. He knew Emily was only doing what needed to be done, but hearing her talk like that about his own child made him want to implode. “But what’s best for the baby is having her parents. And if you get help and get better then you can see your own baby again. His name is Nathan right?” Garcia had called back while they were driving to let them know she had found the boy’s birth certificate.

“I’m a good mom,” Hannah said weakly. “I needed to see my baby. But they wouldn’t let me.”

Emily approached her a little more, careful not to spook Hannah into doing anything rash. “I know and I’m sorry. If you give me the baby and come with us, we can make sure you get help and when you do, you can see Nathan again.” When she looked up, Luke, Rossi and JJ had their guns trained on her. Spencer didn’t trust himself enough to do anything but stand there. Reluctantly, she moved toward Emily, holding the baby out for her to take. 

As soon as Spencer’s little girl was in Emily’s arms, Stephen handcuffed Hannah. “We’re going to make sure you get the help you need, Hannah, so you can see Nathan again.” 

With Hannah out of the house and an ambulance waiting outside, Emily turned to Spencer. “We need to get her checked out, but I think she’s okay Spence. She’s beautiful.” The tears flowed down his face as he moved out from behind the rest of the team to cradle his daughter. 

“Hi, baby,” he cried, staring in awe at her perfect little face. “We’re gonna go get you checked out and then take you back to mommy…I love you so much.” Everyone looked on with tears in their eyes as Spencer bent his head down to kiss the delicate bundle in his arms.

As soon as they left the house, the medics were on hand to check out Spencer’s daughter and ensure that nothing was wrong. “She’s perfectly healthy,” the man said. “I’m assuming you don’t have a car seat in there, so ride back with us and your team can meet you back at the hospital.”

“We’ll meet you there, Reid,” Emily said relieved. “It’s all over.”


After a short ride in the ambulance, Spencer and the baby arrived at the hospital, with the team not far behind. “Your wife just woke up again,” the nurse said, pointing him down toward her room. With their daughter in his arms, Spencer entered the room.

“That’s her?” Y/N asked. “She’s okay?” Penelope was already sitting at her side, her smiled wide and her eyes shining with tears of her own.

“They checked her out in the ambulance,” he replied, placing their daughter in her mother’s arms. “She’s perfect and healthy and beautiful. I told you I’d bring her home.”

“Harper,” she replied, looking up at Spencer through her own veil of tears. It was the girl’s name they had decided on before being convinced it was another boy. “You brought Harper home.”

She’s the girl who helps your mom with the dishes and talks sports with your dad. She’s the girl who does your sisters Homecoming makeup and gives her old Barbie’s to your younger sister. She’s the girl who makes dinner for you and your friends at 9pm then falls asleep on the couch with her pink dress on. You’re friends give her a pillow and blanket then whisper to you that they are going to bed. She’s the girl you watch breathe as she sleeps. Her eyes move under eyelids and you wonder what she thinks. She’s the girl you lie down next too and kiss her nose while she slowly opens her eyes. She’s the girl who smells like clean laundry and jolly ranchers. She’s the girl you call your baby, your girlfriend. She’s the girl you want to call your wife. She’s the girl looking at you with tired eyes whispering, “I love you.” She’s the love of your life.
—  Why you want to marry her.
10 Tips for Married Brothers

1. Dress up for your wife, look clean and smell good. Just like the husband wants his wife to look nice for him, she also wants her husband to dress up for her too. Remember that the Prophet (sallallahu alayhi wasallam) would always start with Miswak when returning home and always loved the sweetest smells.

2. Use the best names for your wife. Call your wife by the most beloved names to her, and avoid using names that hurt their feelings.

3. Don’t treat her like a fly. We never think about a fly in our daily lives until it ‘bugs’ us. Similarly, a wife will do well all day – which brings no attention from the husband – until she does something to ‘bug’ him. Don’t treat her like this; recognize all the good that she does and focus on that.

4. If you see wrong from your wife, try being silent and do not comment! This is one of the ways the Prophet (sallallahu alayhi wasallam) used when he would see something inappropriate from his wives . It’s a technique that few Muslim men have mastered.

5. Smile at your wife whenever you see her and embrace her often. Smiling is Sadaqah and your wife is not exempt from the Muslim Ummah. Imagine life with her constantly seeing you smiling. Remember also those Ahadith when the Prophet (sallallahu alayhi wasallam) would kiss his wife before leaving for Salaah, even when he was fasting.

6. Thank her for all that she does for you. Then thank her again! Take for example a dinner at your house. She makes the food, cleans the home, and a dozen other tasks to prepare. And sometimes the only acknowledgment she receives is that there needed to be more salt in the soup. Don’t let that be; thank her!

7. Ask her to write down the last ten things you did for her that made her happy. Then go and do them again. It may be hard to recognize what gives your wife pleasure. You don’t have to play a guessing game, ask her and work on repeating those times in your life.

8. Don’t belittle her desires. Comfort her. Sometimes the men may look down upon the requests of their wives. The Prophet (sallallahu alayhi wasallam) set the example for us in an incident when Safiyyah (RA) was crying because, as she said, he had put her on a slow camel. He wiped her tears, comforted her, and brought her the camel.

9. Be humorous and play games with your wife. Look at how the Prophet (saw) would race with his wife Aisha (radiallahu anha) in the desert. When was the last time we did something like that?

10. Always remember the words of Allah’s Messenger (sallallahu alayhi wasallam): ‘The best of you are those who treat their families the best. And I am the best amongst you to my family.’ Try to be the best!

Make dua to Allah ta’ala to make your marriage successful. And Allah Ta’ala knows best!!

Annoying part three- Sherlock x Reader

This was requested by @ficbucket​. Since i didn’t have an idea what to put in this, I asked her what she’d like to see in it and well……..

Maybe you could start a whole thing on Molly walking in on them kissing in the lab or something which starts a whole plot of them trying to comfort her or something like that. Oh my gosh you should do the whole ‘group’ (molly, Sherlock, john, the reader, etc) going out somewhere and the reader getting hit on, causing Sherlock to get mad and chase off the person hitting on her, confusing everyone but the reader. Maybe just like fluffy reader x Sherlock moments in general or john being like 😏 and teasing Sherlock about it.

I mixed it up a bit love, Thanks to this sweet cupcake, a third part to this one shot was created ;) Anyway, without further adieu, Enjoy.


It’s been a few months, and to say Y/n was happy would be an understatement. It’s a tough ride, Sherlock wasn’t an easy man
to love, him showing how he felt was a rare occasion. And when he does, he does it well, they’ve been out on a few dates, and they agreed on keeping the relationship a secret. And it’s been kept that way, though that does make it harder to be around each other, sometimes they’re always around friends, so snogging had to take a pause.
Tomorrow’s Molly’s birthday, and she’s invited her small group of friends to celebrate with her.
“Do I have to go? We don’t have to you know.” Sherlock whines for the third time since getting the news, sinking lower into Y/n’s couch, and the girl sighs next to him. He didn’t have a case, so he had spent the entire day with her, “Yes, it’s her birthday, and she expects us to be there.”  
Sherlock groans, letting his head rest on her shoulder, and Y/n continues to watch the telly that was playing softly. “We don’t have to stay the whole night if you like  then,”  she suggests as Sherlock switches his position so he could lay back, pulling Y/n down with him. She says her head on his chest, letting the beat of his heart relax her. Sherlock slips his hand around her waist, resting his chin on her head.

“To Molly,” Y/n says, toasting to her sister, who sat in between Greg and John, smiling and blushing like her usual self. “Molly,” everyone repeats, and their glasses clink against each other. They all met at a quaint bar, the small group that included Greg, John, Sherlock, Y/n and Molly herself.
It was hell trying to get Sherlock out of the flat, he was nothing but reluctant and Y/n had to again promise him that they’ll leave early. And he was being very quiet, but at least he was participating, a bit…
Y/n back down next to Sherlock, something that no one questioned, thinking that she’s being nice to him for her sister. She sips on her drink and join in on the lighthearted conversation with the group, Molly was smiling like nobody’s business, her small fingers fiddling with the necklace Y/n got her. Even though she insisted that no one get her anything, Y/n still bought it and said it was from everyone.
The talk quiets down as one of the girls who worked there came over, “Sorry,” the blonde apologizes softly, putting a glass of what seemed like some sort of wine in front of Y/n “The guy at the bar ordered this for you.” she says, nodding to the man sitting at the bar with a tilt of her chin. Y/n looks over at the dark haired man, and he winks at her and smiles, and to be polite, she smiles back. The barrister moves away to go back to her work as a chuckle comes from Greg, “Seems like you caught one Y/n,” he jokes, smiling as he takes a sip of his beer. Sherlock found this in no way amusing, and he rests his hand on the girl’s knee under the table. Y/n scrunches up her nose in distaste at the glass of wine, pushing it to the center of the table. “Yeah, I don’t think so,” she says, “Free to take if anyone wants it.” she motions to the wine and goes back to sipping her drink, Molly who wasn’t drinking anything takes the glass and takes a careful sip. Sherlock sat glaring daggers at the man sitting at the bar, who for some magical reason, couldn’t take a his eyes off Y/n. And of course, it didn’t go unnoticed.
“You alright Sherlock?” John asks, catching him in the act, looking over his shoulder, to see the man still staring at Molly’s sister before looking back to his best friend. John smirks at him, shaking his head, deciding not to say anything. Sherlock remains quiet, silently planning this man’s murder.
To make matters worst, the guy comes over, and conveniently stands right in front of Sherlock. Sensing what was about to happen, Y/n puts her hand on Sherlock’s, rubbing soothing circles into the back of his hand to hopefully calm him so he can keep his mouth shut. If Sherlock keeps quiet, then the man could say what he has to say, and leave without conflict.
“That drink was for your friend here,” he says to Molly, motioning to her sister, and the girl blinks at him, but before she can say something, Sherlock speaks up.
“She didn’t want it.” he says, his voice dangerously low, almost like a growl. He stares up at the man, jealousy and anger burning in his irises. And the man looks down at him, smirking, “Yeah? I suppose she told you that did she?”
“No, she demonstrated.” Sherlock quips, getting more irritated by the minute. Oh how he wanted to strangle him. Everyone stared at Sherlock, confused with the way he’s acting, these two don’t even talk to each other and here he is, sizing up a guy because he bought her a drink.
“Does your wife know where you are?” Sherlock questions, the man looked a little taken aback, chuckling nervously. Y/n internally face palmed, saw this coming, she thinks.
“I’m not married.” the man defends, taking a step back, “Yes you are. You were recently out on a business trip, someplace where there’s a lot of sun, I can see your ring line clearly. I saw you take off your ring when you came in an hour ago, you had a phone call when you came in, your wife called to ask where you were. Your phone screen was reflected on the glass case you sat by, I don’t think just any random woman in your contacts would be labelled ’Wife’.” Sherlock rattles off, not stopping to take a breath, “You’ve been here many times before, and you immediately started hitting on the girl at the counter, her number is on the napkin sticking out of your pocket. Shall I continue?”
The table was quiet, and everyone just stared at Sherlock in shock. The guy stutters something before giving up and angrily walking out of the bar. Everyone was still looking at him when he relaxed back into his chair. “Uh…Thank you Sherlock.” Y/n mutters, not too long after Sherlock left and Y/n met him at the street corner twenty minutes later. “Hey you,” she says, smiling at him, and he let’s out a grunt as a reply, causing Y/n to chuckle softly. “You get jealous easily,” Y/n states as they walked together, “I do not.” Sherlock defends, not looking at her.
“Yea you do.”

A few days later, Y/n was at the lab, Sherlock not far from where she sat. He was on a case, so he came by to analyze something or the other. Molly had just went out for lunch and Y/n agreed to supervise until she came back. Sherlock looks up from the microscope to look at Y/n, who was scribbling something down in her notepad. The detective moves from his spot of the stool, walking over to her work space, “Yes Sherlock?” she questions, not looking up from her work. “I’m trying to work,” he states and Y/n looks at him, confusion creasing her brows. “Yeah…. So?”
“You’re distracting me.” Sherlock says, taking a step closer to her and Y/n raises an eyebrow, turning on her stool so she could face him properly. “Oh, I’m I now?”
“Yes, and do you know what I do
with distractions?”


“Eliminate them.” he says, now standing in front of her, her legs between his own. Y/n blinks and tilts her head slightly, wetting her lips with her tongue, “And how are you going to do that Mr Holmes?”
Sherlock smirks, catching her chin gently with his fingers, tilting her head back so he could have proper access to her mouth. “I’m going to kiss you.”  he says, his voice had deepened, making it harder for Y/n to resist him. His lips brush against hers at first, it was so soft that it could barely be considered a kiss. Then it came hard, his fingers tangles in her hair and he deepens the kiss, his tongue finding it’s way into her mouth, causing the girl to groan into the kiss.
A quiet gasp ends the kiss abruptly, Sherlock taking a wide step back, distancing himself from Y/n, but the damage was done. Molly stood at the door, eyes wide, looking embarrassed that she walked into this and upset that her sister was just kissing Sherlock. “S-sorry, I came for my wallet. But, seeing that you two are busy.” She turns on her heals and leave, and Y/n sighs, going after her.
“Molly–Molly wait. Please?” Y/n grabs the back of Molly’s purple sweater, forcing the short girl to stop. Her shoulders were shaking and it hurts Y/n to know she was the cause. She was always going to tell Molly about her relationship with Sherlock, but this was what she was afraid off.
“How long?” Molly questions as Y/n loosens her grip on her sweater, she turns, her eyes filled with tears. And Y/n looks down at her feet, “Seven months,”
Sev….You–” the girl takes a breath before turning around and walking away again, this time, Y/n lets her go, she’ll need her space until she’s ready to talk. Sherlock comes up behind her, resting his hand on the small of her back, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple. “I’ll go,”
“Yeah, it’s best you should.” Y/n replies, not unkindly and Sherlock hugs her, “I’m sorry,” he says, “It’s alright,It’s not your fault. She’ll come back later.”
When Sherlock pulls away, she promises to text him, and he leaves.
Y/n gets back to work, and waits for Molly to come back, since there’s nothing else she can do about this. It was bound to happen, she just didn’t expect it then and there, and now she has to act out all those times she imagined herself talking to Molly about it.
After about an hour, Molly comes back, she drops Y/n’s lunch in front of her silently, not even looking at her. She walks back to the door to slip her lab coat back on, “You can eat it, there’s nothing to kill you.” Molly says suddenly, startling Y/n and she smiles a bit at her, “Are you sure?” she asks, trying to lighten the mood but to no avail..
“Okay, we need to talk.” Y/n says, getting up and Molly sighs, “We don’t have anything to talk about Y/n.”
“No. Look, we’re not kids any more, you’re gonna listen to me.” Y/n says forcefully, rooting Molly to her spot. Y/n puts both hands on her shoulders, “What you saw earlier – I’m sorry. I’m sorry about Sherlock, I’m sorry for not telling you. I’ve hurt you and I’m sorry for that too, I’m a bitch and I know it.” Y/n rambles, scared that her sister is going to hate her forever. Molly sighs, of course she’s hurt, Y/n knew about her feelings for the detective, and now this. But she knows her sister, after Sam, she was unwilling to trust any guy that cane her way, and if she willingly gave her trust to anyone else, she’s glad it’s Sherlock. Because she could trust him to look after her little sister. “Um, Molly? Say something…. slap me if you have to.”
Molly blinks at her sister, “I’m not going to hit you Y/n, I’m okay. With this..You and Sherlock..” she says, and Y/n let her hands drop to he sides, staring at her in bewilderment. “Are you sure? Bec–”
“Yeah. I’m willing to take a step back, for you. I won’t lose my sister because of him.” Molly confirms, pulling Y/n into a hug, which she great fully returns. “Thanks Molly.”
When the sisters break away from the hug they smile at each other, and Molly searches her cheek nervously. “About your lunch….”
“There’s a Tuna sandwich in there.”
“You were going to use my allergies against me?” Y/n questions, going over to the bag, finding a tuna sandwich wrapped in plastic and she laughs. “Why’d you wrap it?”
“I wasn’t actually going to kill you Y/n.”

Tag list: @cutie1365 @dontstoptime @morganschiebel@fandomlover03@mrsdeanwinchester15@justanaturalfreakshow@et2310@suvikamahes98blr @thedumbestravenclaw@alphaspiritrose@broken-soul-crystal @sherlockfan4life @naughtylittlefire @ficbucket

A Warrior’s Life

TITLE: A Warrior’s Life

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Thirty-Eight

AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Viking Loki coming to your village, raiding, and pillaging, before deciding there is something about you that intrigues him and deciding to take you back to Asgard with him. There, you are forced to learn a new life and language, and though you hate what has happened to you, you learn that Loki is not as bad as you think.

RATING: Mature

Maebh watched as Thor lifted another crate onto the cart to be brought to their new home. She hated how she was not able to help much; she could only direct the others in what they were doing. Loki, Thodin and Nafi were on the cart, ensuring the weight was evenly distributed and not getting too heavy.

“It is not your natural state to be so still is it?” Smiled Frigga as she stood next to her younger daughter-in-law.

“Indeed it is not, I fear this child will cost me much of my sanity is I am to be forced to do so little until it is born.” She sighed, stroking her stomach.

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