Under Your Skin

Drabble about the zip on Yuuri’s Eros costume + Victor hating the fact that he has to do said zip up. 

Victor could never help but take his time, here like this with the bare skin of Yuuri’s back laid out for him, and him only.

It was routine now, standing in the thick silence of their personal change room, standing close even though there was more than enough space.

“Zip me up, Victor.” Yuuri teased, playing his role already, shifting the muscles of his back, rolling his shoulders, enticing Victor with that canvas of smooth skin left exposed with that zip waiting at the bottom.

And Victor groaned, low in his throat like he always did as he stepped closer still, fingered the tab of the zip as he thought about ripping it off instead, thought about pushing Yuuri face first against the wall to tear Yuuri’s costume to shreds.

The goosebumps across Yuuri’s shoulders as Victor blew on his unmarred skin set Victor on fire every time, churned his gut, tightened his throat, made his heart race.

It grated against his very being as he pulled that zip up inch by slow inch, had him growling in Yuuri’s ear because it wasn’t just Victor that had a hard time with it now. Yuuri’s breath was heavy, the skin of his neck sensitive where Victor couldn’t help but kiss as that zip moved agonisingly higher at his own doing.

It would be so easy to get carried away, to slip his hands underneath that thin fabric and map out Yuuri’s body with his fingers, a place he’d never get tired of exploring, skin he’d never get tired of marking.

So he stopped halfway, conflicting thoughts pausing the closure halfway up, that skin between Yuuri’s shoulder blades beckoning, and Yuuri made it so hard, because he shivered then, pressed himself back against Victor’s chest, against his hips, his ass against Victor’s own very urgent want.

Fuck.” Victor couldn’t help but hiss, couldn’t help but press back, align himself even through the fabric into the cleft of Yuuri’s ass. “That’s foul play, Yuuri.”

Yuuri had never pushed him quite this far before, this close to the edge of thoughtlessness, this close to something crazy right before his routine. And Yuuri just chuckled, low and alluring as he arched his back and gave Victor a mocking amount of friction.

The zip was back down to the bottom in an instant with a metallic hiss as Victor growled again, fabric pushed open, he bent Yuuri over, planted his hands on the wall as Victor gave in and set his teeth to Yuuri’s skin. He hadn’t left marks on Yuuri since the season began, but he was going to change that now, time be damned.

Yuuri shuddered, bit back a moan as Victor started at the small corner at the bottom where the fabric narrowed, following the path slowly as Victor worked his teeth, his tongue, his lips up the diagonal line where the path of Yuuri’s zipper would run.

He could see Yuuri’s fingers scrabble at the wall, feel the heat of his skin, could hear his shallow attempts at breathing, and he was holding it together so well, too well, and Victor wanted to make him scream instead, because Yuuri wasn’t playing fair at all.

But there wasn’t enough time, they had 5 minutes until Yuuri had to check in for his routine, and if Victor had his way 5 minutes would only be scratching the surface of this deep rooted hunger that possessed him every single time he was forced to do up that fucking zip.

So he settled on the trail of hickeys and teeth marks he left on Yuuri’s skin, soothing them with kisses as he went higher and higher, revelled in the thought that Yuuri would still feel their sting as he put on a show in front of everyone in the arena, a show that was meant solely for him, Victor Nikiforov.

His teeth dragged at the supple flesh, nipped as he worked his way higher, up across his spine, the dip next to his shoulder blade, across the firm expanse of muscle up to the top where he finally stopped.

And then he pressed his whole body close, chest flush to Yuuri’s deliciously decorated skin, hands atop Yuuri’s own on the wall now, neck craned forward so he could nibble on Yuuri’s hear, so he could roll his hips and let Yuuri know exactly how close Victor was to blowing this competition off just so he could fuck Yuuri here in this changing room instead.

“Yuuri,” Victor drawled, incited by his own thoughts, “Just remember I’ll be the one undoing this zip afterwards, so you better be ready.”

Yuuri trembling against him was almost more than he could take, but Yuuri turned against him then, pulled his hands out from underneath Victor’s own and met him face to face, cheeks flushed, pupils blown, and a playful smirk curving the lip he’d obviously been biting moments earlier.

“I thought that was a given.” Yuuri offered, voice low, eyes dark as he stepped forward on tip toes and ghosted his lips against Victor’s, a whisper apart, a breath away from ruining Victor’s self control.

“So zip me up, Victor”

170226 Kyuhyun’s managers leave Kyuhyun to sleep in smoke during a hotel fire + fans furious

Actions of Super Junior’s Kyuhyun’s staff have ELF incredibly angry.

Kyuhyun was in Taipei when the hotel he was staying at caught on fire. Reportedly, instead of taking care of their artist, the staff evacuated by themselves while Kyuhyun stayed in his hotel room, preparing his comments for his performances, unaware of the fire.

He later told his fans that he tried to figure out what was happening when his room filled with smoke, but could not make his way down. The day after, he attempted to sing “At Gwanghwamun” with his bad throat (due to sleeping in the smoke), and apologized tearfully to fans while explaining the situation.

Fans are furious because while Kyuhyun was by himself in the smoke, his staff were all at Starbucks - and taking selfies while making hashtags such as #SleepingAtStarbucks and #MeetingOfFireVictims. Many fans believe one of the jobs of a staff member is to keep an artist safe, which they did not do when they left Kyuhyun in a hotel that was on fire filled with smoke.


“YOU KISSED HARRY STY—“ Louis claps his hand over Zayn’s mouth. Zayn lets out a muffled sorry.

“Yes,” Louis hisses. “Well, I kissed him back anyway. I think maybe I was drugged or something. Okay, no I wasn’t. Shouldn’t joke about that. I’m just. Oh god. I am very confused right now.” He clears his throat to firmly say, “I would like to defend myself by saying that I was just trying to go take a piss, and then Harry decided to rub his lips all over me.”

Zayn’s eyes bug out of his head. “All over you? Like did you guys—“

“No! I meant just like, all over my lips. And like my neck a bit. It was mostly his hands that were rubbing my bum—“

“Told you he liked your bum, mate.”

“Oh my god. Shut up. It doesn’t matter. I’m drunk. Clearly. That is the only reason this happened. Yes, and Harry must be really drunk to have done this. He probably won’t even remember this happened. We should just forget this whole thing.”

“Dude. Harry Styles just got on a stage and fucking killed it singing an Ariana Grande song. People are going to be talking about how amazing he was for weeks. Months probably. He definitely wasn’t that drunk.”

Louis just groans.

Just Hear This and Then I’ll Go by @allwaswell16

anonymous asked:

Steve saving a kid who broke into the ice on a frozen lake, despite being terrified himself because nasty ice water flashbacks?

Coughing, heaving, Steve collapses on the bank of the lake, his lower legs still in the water, skin on fire with cold. The coughing won’t stop, his breath becoming sharper in his throat, knives slicing through his windpipe as he panics. Dirt in his mouth, grit between his teeth.

A hand, hard, lands on his shoulder. “Steve.” He tries to pick up his head, can’t, the muscles in his neck locking. “Steve.”

Someone turns him over. He gasps for breath, blinking at the bright whiteness of the sky above him. Oh, this is familiar, the shortness of breath, the terror, the ache in his chest. The spine freeze is different.

“Steve.” A face above him: goatee, a glow. “Breathe, okay? The kid’s safe. You’re safe. It’s over. It’s over.”

His chest squeezes, hard, then suddenly releases, and he gasps, another kind of pain as his lungs fill. He reaches up, claws at something, his heart jackrabbiting against his ribcage.

“Good,” says the voice. “Good, keep breathing. It’ll be okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

There’s some kind of metallic clacking. A warm hand touches his cheek. Finally, finally the face above him slots into place. “Tony,” he mumbles.

“Yeah.” Tony laughs, collapses across Steve’s body. “Yeah, Steve, it’s me. You alright? You’re alright. Yeah. I’m here.”

The Sound Of Silence

Bellamy + Clarke⎜Canonverse⎜OS⎜Angst⎜Hurt/Comfort

Post 4x04 from Bellamy’s POV because the Bellamy Blake Bottom Lip Tremble™ won’t leave me alone

When the heart breaks it doesn’t make a sound. There is no rip of flesh, no jarring moan, no heavy thud. There is just silence. Emptiness. Like the universe itself couldn’t come up with a sound to encompass such profound devastation. 

The screams that tore his throat to shreds die down but his heart keeps breaking in silence. With every heartbeat the tear in his heart grows, one side weighed down with grief. His sister. The other weighed down with guilt. His responsibility. Every breath he takes is a protest against his ribcage, wrestling for space against the pain.   

The chains tug at his wrists, carving deep grooves into his skin, but he doesn’t feel it. He is pulled over rocks and fallen trees, and sometimes he falls, but he doesn’t feel stone breaking his skin, doesn’t flinch against the crack of bone. Angry commands are growled in trigedasleng, but he doesn’t turn towards it or away from it. He feels heavy eyes on him, but he doesn’t look up at them. He keeps going, not hearing, not seeing, not feeling, just breaking. 

Keep reading

The Countdown

Taehyung googles his symptoms and convinces himself he’s got a week to live, Yoongi’s coerced into helping write his will, and you’re just trying not to go insane.

a belated birthday present to the wonderful amazingly perfect @taesthetes!!! it’s three days late, unfortunately. See end for full list of disclaimers and notes.

6.7k words, fluff + comedy, taehyung/reader, normalverse

It begins with a cough.

A singular cough, insubstantial to the larger picture. Taehyung ignores it. That is, until suddenly his chest and throat seize and he feels this strange pressure and irresistible scratchy feeling that results in a whole slew of coughing and hacking.

With a grunt he slumps into his chair and immediately fumbles for his phone. The coughing’s stopped now, but the feeling of impending doom has yet to go away. As do the slightly woozy, borderline-feverish feeling and the sniffling of his nose.

Quickly, before he can possibly drop dead, he dials the number of the one person he can trust in times like these:

Keep reading

Bellamy: Has good reason not to trust the Grounders after everything they’ve done since they’ve landed on the ground, but will put aside his differences so that they can work together to save everyone from the radiation.

Grounders in season 4: *Echo holds a sword to his and Clarke’s throat. Echo almost chops off Clarke’s head. Echo “kills” his sister. Roan breaks off the alliance. Roan takes him and Kane as hostages. Roan plans to raid Arkadia and hurt the people he cares about.*



But fuck can you imagine giving him a blow job taking his cock while his head is thrown back in pure pleasure while he’s tightly gripping your hair and your hands are rested on his thighs and he’s praising you along with his deep deep moans and groans spilling out from his throat seeing his Adam’s apple bop along with him spilling out praises to you quietly jus above a whisper.. “Yes baby girl just like that fuck” “just a little deep my love holy shit” “you look so good taking my cock baby girl fuck” “you like my cock princess?” Like fuckkkkkkkk holy shit

anonymous asked:

4 months In SA and he lives in Europe she in US. She is a struggling actress and he is a for now working actor= goIng the distance? Nahhhh, real life always intervenes. Does anybody agree that this is remotely possible, very possible?

oh I don’t believe he’s dating her for a second. He doesn’t do long distance relationships, he’s said so himself. It just so happens he’s in the US/LA for a few weeks and can be seen plenty around town w this chick before he goes off to South Africa for 4 months and sticks his tongue down his co-stars throat. for what reason? god fucking knows. and he supposedly has a great agent/publicist. ok. 

anonymous asked:

jeonghan + first baby

“Mr. Yoon, you may come in now.”

Jeonghan took in a deep breath when he was called into the room you had spent the past hour or so in giving birth to your first-born, and tried to keep his hands from shaking. To say he was a nervous wreck would’ve been an understatement - the day he had been waiting for for the past 8 months or so had finally come, even though it wasn’t precisely the day you had both expected it to be. 

He felt his breath hitch in his throat when he reached the door and heard the baby - your baby - cry for the first time. Stepping into the room, Jeonghan quickly found you, and when his eyes met yours, you both smiled. Your smile was a lot weaker than his, but that was more or less a given.

“Hi,” he said, voice sounding much like velvet with so many feelings storming inside of him.

“Hi,” you replied and giggled, tilting your head towards the hospital cradle that was by your bed. “Come on and say hi to our daughter.”

Jeonghan felt his heart hammering in his chest and could feel his pulse in his ears when he took steps towards the cradle; it felt almost surreal, but when he saw the baby, it hit him.

“I’m a dad,” Jeonghan said almost dumbly, which made you laugh weakly, and brought his hand to the cradle slowly, incredibly gentle as he stroked the baby’s arm. “Hi there, little one.”

The sight made you smile, and when you saw Jeonghan melt into what was the widest, softest smile you had ever seen on him, you felt your heart swell as tears gathered in your eyes.

“She grabbed my finger,” Jeonghan said with a snort, and turned to look at you. His eyes were glistening, and his laugh sounded thick, giving away that he was fighting back the tears. “She’s so strong already, Y/N. Our little miracle.”

Admin Scooter

Empty - a Mike Wheeler fic


He could hear her voice so clearly; calling out to him, begging him to save her. She always seemed so close, but so far out of reach. His heart dissolved in his chest as she dissolved into thin air, leaving only scattered ash behind. How could he just watch as she sacrificed herself for them? How could he let her go?

Keep reading

  • Echo: Do you think we'll ever be able to trust each other again?
  • Bellamy: I doubt it.
  • Echo: I'll work on it.
  • Echo: *kidnaps Bellamy and his friend, slits his friends throat right in front of him*
  • Echo: Any progress?
  • Bellamy: uh-
  • Echo: *goes to capture Bellamy's sister, stabs her and makes her fall off a cliff*
  • Echo: I'm proud of myself, I really think these kind of actions will finally bring us world peace.
  • Bellamy: what that actual fuck echo.
Relevant as of Page 21

“Yeah right, Tom! I bet you didn’t even think about us!” Tord screamed at Tom through his tears. His face was hot with anger.

Tom gaped at Tord and Edd. He didn’t know how to respond. He felt tears beginning to well up in his eyes; it stung. “I-I-,” he tried to form a coherent sentence, but the words wouldn’t come. He knew what he had done. He had no excuse.

“You what, Tom? You used us? You took advantage of us? You LIED to us? What?!”

“I-I just-” Tom clenched his fists. He couldn’t take this anymore. His throat was throbbing, and hot, salty tears ran down his cheeks. Without saying anything more he turned and ran. Right out the door.

Edd attempted to follow him, “Wait! Tom!” Tord grabbed him by his shoulder.

“Let him go. If we’re lucky he won’t come back.”

Edd jerked away from Tord, “How could you say that? Tom is our friend!”

“He used you! He hurt us! He lied to both of us!”

“He wasn’t the only one who lied. None of this would have happened if you two had told us what was going on between you.”

“That’s irrelevant. HE knew. HE knew and he still did it! And then he lied about it. What else could he have lied about?”

Edd turned away. He didn’t know what to say. He knew that Tom had used him, but it wasn’t entirely his fault. Edd knew he had been drunk, yet he still consented. Tom was his best friend, and he wouldn’t abandon him no matter what he had done.

Tord saw Edd’s expression and sighed. He placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure he’ll be back by tomorrow.”

Edd wiped the tears from his face, “Yeah, I hope so.”

The next morning Edd woke up late. He sat up and yawned, dangling his legs over the side of his bed. The previous night’s events came rushing back to him like a wave, and he fell back onto his bed with a loud creak. He rubbed his eyes, “What have I gotten myself into?”

Eventually he got up, and he headed to the kitchen to find something to eat. No one else was around. He found some leftover pizza in the fridge and took a slice out to the living room. He had half expected to find Tom snoozing on the couch (as he usually did after a long night out) but was surprised to find the room empty. He sat down, slightly unsettled.

He jumped as he heard footsteps behind him, and turned to see Tord trudging groggily into the living room. He looked as if he had gotten no sleep, and his eyes were bloodshot.

“Tord, have you seen Tom?” Edd asked carefully.

“Wh- he isn’t back yet?” Tord’s eyes widened, then he grimaced, as if in pain, “Why am I not surprised.”

“Where do you think he could be?”

“Don’t care.” Tord opened the fridge and rummaged around, finally coming to the conclusion that cold pizza was all he was having for breakfast.

“Aren’t you at least a little bit worried?”

Tord hesitated, “Not really. He’s probably just throwing himself a pity party, trying to get us worried. He’ll be back soon enough.”

“You and I both know Tom better than that.” Edd replied.

“I suppose you’re right. He’s probably gone and gotten himself alcohol poisoning. Or he’s in the hospital after trying to off hims-” Tord stopped. Edd looked horrified, and even he shuddered at the thought. Even after all Tom had done he would never wish anything like that upon him.

“Don’t you dare say that!” Edd glared at Tord.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Tord looked away. He didn’t hate Tom. But he wasn’t sure if he loved him the same way anymore. He didn’t feel like he could trust him, and he was sure that things would never be the same between them.

The whole situation made Tord so angry. He wanted to hit him. To physically hurt him, so that he could know what it felt like to be betrayed. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help but relish the thought.

“If he doesn’t come back by tonight I’m going to go look for him.” Tord was snapped out of his thoughts by Edd’s sudden statement.


“Tord, I’m really worried about him. He could be in serious trouble.” Tord glanced over at Edd. His face was creased with worry, but underneath he saw how tired he was. He saw his face tinted with sorrow and betrayal. But Edd was a loyal friend. He would do anything for him, Tom, and Matt.

“Well, you’re not going alone. You’re gonna need help.”

Edd smiled, “Thanks, Tord.”

That evening, Tom still hadn’t returned. Edd paced back and forth in front of the couch. Tord and Matt sat watching him worriedly.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” Matt asked.

“It’s fine, Matt. Besides, we need someone to stay here in case Tom comes home.” Tord patted Matt on the back, then stood up with a groan, “Alright, Edd. Let’s head out. We can take my car.”

Edd followed Tord out to the car. It was red, Tord’s favorite color. But Edd noticed a strange hole in the side, near the fender.

“Tord, is this a bullet hole?”

“Oh that? That’s just a… rust spot!”

Edd looked harder at the hole. The paint around it was chipped, and the metal underneath was spotless, no rust in sight. He narrowed his eyes with suspicion, but said nothing. He got into the car next to Tord and they headed out.

“Now, where would Tom be?” Tord mumbled.

“I- I don’t know. He- he’s not answering his phone. It’s probably off. Should we call the police?”

“No. He’s a grown man. He has every right to leave when he wants, and he hasn’t been gone for that long.”

Edd sighed, and they drove in silence for a while. Eventually they found themselves in downtown. They came to a river and Tord slowed down to cross the bridge when suddenly Edd grabbed his arm.

“EDD!” Tord slammed on his brakes. Luckily there was no one behind him. The roads were strangely quiet.

“What are you thinking!”

“I saw Tom!” Edd gestured forward toward the bridge.

“Wha-” Tord followed Edd’s gaze and saw a man standing on the bridge, leaning on the rails. It was Tom. Edd unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for the door handle.

“Wait, uh, Edd.” Tord touched Edd’s arm. Edd looked at him quizzically.

“Maybe you should stay here.”

“Oh, uh, okay.” Edd put his seatbelt back on, “But I’m there at any sign of trouble”

“Alright then,” Tord stepped out of the car. We walked quietly up to Tom.

“You aren’t planning on jumping, are you?” Tord leaned on the rails by him. Tom jumped and turned sharply, but relaxed when he saw who it was and turned back to gazing out at the city.

Tord noticed the circles under his eyes; his hair was messy and tousled. Tom hadn’t gotten any sleep in over forty-eight hours.

Tom sighed, “No, just watching.”

“Care if I join you?”

Tom turned back to him, “I thought you couldn’t stand to be around me.” His tone was meant to be questioning, but his fatigue rendered his voice monotone.

“Look, Tom. What you did was wrong, but I didn’t take the time to consider everything… You still should have told me. If you had just told the truth none of this would have happened.”

“I know, I just-” Tom rubbed his eyes with both hands, “I just didn’t want to lose you. I thought you would hate me.”

“Tom, I would never hate you. There’s nothing you could do that would make that happen.”

Tord had had some time to think. The more he had thought about it, the less angry he became.

“Tord, I’m really sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

“But I do.”

“Really? Why?” Tom looked at him questioningly.

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Tord knew that Tom would do the same for him, “But, I’m not the only one you need to apologize to.” Tord gestured to the car where Edd waited.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Tom and Tord walked back to the car. Edd jumped out and wrapped Tom in an enormous hug, “Tom! I’m so glad you’re okay! I was so worried.”

Tom hugged Edd back, “I’m sorry, Edd. For everything.”

Several Years Later…

Tom opened the door, and was surprised to see a familiar, but scarred, face staring back at him.


“Tom, I- please, I just-” Tord stuttered, he couldn’t seem to form the words.

“Save it commie.” Tom pulled Tord into a hug.

“W-what are you-”

“Everyone deserves a second chance.”

Tord bit his lip as tears ran down his face, and he hugged him back.

(Wow, okay so.. I spent way more time in this than I should have lol. Personally, I think it’s kinda cringey, but that’s just me. Sorry it’s a bit late, but not by much!)


True Love's Kiss PT. 3

A/NPT. 1, PT. 2
PAIRING: Peter Pan x Reader
TITLE: True Love’s Kiss 


The group was slowly beginning to be ready with lunch, and you got up. Walking to the trash can and the table where the trays and plates were meant to go, you happened to look back at your friends, who were still talking. And being the klutz you were, you ran right into someone, dropping your tray with a rattle. Your friends looked toward the noise, and seeing it was you they began applauding and cheering.

“Thanks, guys, really not necessary,” you said, picking up your tray before the stranger could. He straightened up and cleared his throat. “Sorry, I’m so sorry,” you laughed, and you looked up. The first thing you noticed, were the three scratch marks on his left cheek, like a dog’s claws dug into his skin.

“Me too, again,” he said and you recognized him as the boy from a few weeks ago. You unconsciously backed up a step, and he looked away. He began walking back, and you suddenly felt bad. Those scratches looked nasty and you ran after him. He was walking along the corridor and you stopped, not knowing what to call him.

“Hey,” you yelled after him. Immediately upon hearing your voice he stopped. You hesitated going after him that second. The corridor was empty, and you couldn’t help but feel that same fear creep in as when you last saw him. He waited a few seconds before actually looking at you. 

“Yeah?” he said, turning around. You suddenly had no idea what to say when he looked into your eyes. It was crazy and it made no sense, but you felt like you’d met him before, before he kissed you. 

“Why did you—” you broke off mid-sentence. He observed your expression that was a mix of fear and intrigue and cautiously stepped toward you.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he dared. 

“Try me,” you said, looking deeper into his green eyes, as if trying to look for answers for why you felt this way about this stranger. He smiled a small smile.

“Call me crazy if you like, but we met in Storybrooke—that’s in Maine—and we… I... There was a curse cast on the town and you and Emma fled to save yourselves from being cursed and not even know it,” he said, rushing through the last words. Looking at his expression, he expected you to laugh at him, but for some reason you didn’t. Of course it sounded crazy, but you only looked at his guilty face as his gaze dropped to the floor. “I know you don’t remember who you are, but I do.”

“Who’s that?” you asked, like in a trance. His lips curved into a smile as he looked at you. He thought of what to say. 

“You are the first person I could ever love,” he answered a while later. “And although I told myself Neverland was my home, it never was. As corny as it sounds, you were my home. You made me feel safe and loved. And the fact that the kiss didn’t work, tells me that’s not how you feel about me at all.”

You didn’t believe what you were about to do or why the hell you would think that would make this situation any less strange, but it felt like the right thing to do, for some reason. You gently placed the back of your hand on his cheek where you’d hurt him. Tracing along the marks you left on him and he glanced up, and then you pulled his face close to yours. Your lips touched his softly at first, then, something happened and you deepened the kiss. Images, like memories flashed through your mind, so fast you couldn’t make them out as individuals. You remembered small bits and pieces, kisses traced down your body, dark nights spent laid in bed, sneaking around so Emma didn’t hear you bringing him home, and it wasn’t just memories now, but feelings. In one second you felt feelings worth of years, so intensely you felt as if you were going to faint. It was him, the memories, they were of him. You tried your hardest to fish for a name, Emma, Regina, Henry, Snow White, Rumplestiltskin, all those names and their faces flashed before your mind’s eye. But there was no boy, the memory of his name and face were buried deep within your memory. Who are you? Then, as if lighting had hit you, so did his name. Peter, Peter Pan.

You pulled away from him, having to catch your breath. You looked at his face, millimetres away from yours and you let out your breath in pure joy. “Peter,” you said, a mix of a laugh and a cry. His eyes began darting across your face in shock and you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck. It took him a while to process, to wonder if he was only dreaming. 

“Y/N?” he spoke quietly into your hair and you laughed again. He held you close and you thought you were going to cry. Oh, how you’d missed him. Of course, you didn’t know you had, but while you lived in New York with Emma, there had been something missing. You had been missing. “Are you serious?” he asked, hugging you tighter. You let go of him slowly. 

“I am,” you confirmed. “Sorry, about your face,” you added with a bit of amusement. He chuckled, pulling you closer.

“I can’t believe this,” he said, pulling away to see your face. “Have you any idea how long I looked for you in this city, filled with so many people?”

“How did you find me?”

Peter smiled, “Well, I couldn’t exactly just ask: 'Hi, I’m looking for a beautiful girl’, could I?” he laughed, you did too. “I figured Emma put you in school, that narrowed the search down a little.”

“I missed you,” you said. “I mean, I know I couldn’t miss you, but now that I think of spending what, a year, without you I feel all that longing now…” you tried your best to explain the strange feelings inside you. Peter just smiled, touching your face—the feeling you’d missed—and he brushed a few hairs behind your ear. 

“I do love you too,” you whispered, right before his lips touched yours once more. 

#1 Not alone...

First attempt at a little fic…please don’t be too harsh :-)

I want to see more sad Robert/comforting Chas…

‘It’s yours innit’.  Robert closed his eyes, remembering the heart-breakingly vulnerable look on Aaron’s face as he uttered those words.  Robert had pulled him into a hug, trying to convey to Aaron all the things he was too overcome with emotion to put into words.  He hadn’t wanted to break down in front Aaron, had wanted to stay strong for him; but when it came to their final goodbye he almost hadn’t been able to speak.

‘Bye then, Mr Dingle’

Robert had to swallow the lump in his throat and force back the tears threatening to break his will to stay strong before he could reply with the affectionate statement of their union to one another which had quickly become a private term of endearment…

’Goodbye, Mr Sugden.’    

Keep reading

bcnightsquad  asked:

“The list,“ he says and Clarke scowls at the fire when he rushes on, "Monty said you put Octavia on it.” Clake’s gaze slides up to where he looms over her and his face is raw, there’s still his sister’s blood on his hands and she’ surprised he left the med bay at all. He drops so heavily to his knees she hears it and his arms wrap around her shoulders from behind. Clarke lifts her hand and slides her fingers into his hair where he tucks his face against her throat. She squeezes her eyes closed.

Stuck With Me - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Anonymous said:
bucky request where the team pranks him by telling him you (his fiancee) ran away with someone else. he cries and gets all puppy dog sad (fluff pls)

Warnings: sad bucky

Word Count: ~500

Bucky has so far had a good day. He trained with Steve, ate some cereal, took a walk outside, and all after waking up next to his wonderful fiancée, you. 

As he returns from his walk on this lovely fall day, he is unsuspecting of the pain that he is about to be met with. He enters the common room to find the whole team, minus you and Steve, sitting on the couches. They all look up when he enters and exchange some looks.  Bucky frowns at their expressions and Tony walks forward to meet the soldier. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

freewood, any au (maybe not fahc......) im love crying love confessions so mayb one of those??? :0 - ry gaywood

Freewood // Confession of love // 12 Sentences

“I wish I didn’t have to leave,” Gavin whispered into Ryan’s robes as the two tightly embraced. Ryan took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut.

“This past month has been truly wonderful, Gavin.” Ryan cleared his throat, slowly pulling away so that he could hold the young jester by his shoulders at arm’s length. “But you must return to your own kingdom now with King Geoff.”

Gavin sighed, looking up at Ryan forlornly, but he nodded. “Saying goodbye is never fun,” he mumbled, taking a step backward. Ryan let his arms fall back to his sides and watched as Gavin turned and began to walk toward the carriages where Geoff and his knights were waiting, head hung low.

“I love you,” Ryan blurted out after him. Gavin jumped and spun back around in surprise, eyes wide. And for just a second, King Ryan did not care about who was watching or how improper his feelings towards the other man might be. 

The sentiment was there - it’s not goodbye.

Minific prompts open!

anonymous asked:

I feel like Ezra's exceptionally good looks make up for his pretentious attitude. However, I don't think I could ever handle being friends with him or being his girlfriend. I'd go from wanting/having my tongue down his throat to thinking of how I want to slap the shit out of him at least 20 times a day.

This ask is literally me but I get questioned as to why I’m an admin on this blog 😪-natbat