crinkle shirt

You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt

Masterlist linked in bio

If there’s one thing Y/n can’t stand, it’s pity. Which is unfortunate for her, considering that’s all she’s been receiving ever since Harry had broken up with her.

Between her family, her friends, and long-known acquaintances, the pity was never ending. The looks people gave her whenever she occupied a room made her sick to her stomach. Nobody looked at her the way they used to as if their perception of her has been altered from a beautiful, humble woman to a broken heart on legs.

Talking to people didn’t help much, either, considering their irrational fear that one harsh tone could wreck what’s left of her. To those, her identity and name have seemed to be forgotten, only to be replaced by “the girl left with a broken heart, who’s heart has failed to mend.”

It’s all a myth, really—a myth that hasn’t been confirmed or denied within the past four months. Y/n provided no reassurance for anybody, nor did she show any improvement since their break up. But she did try her best. Her attempts to answer the question, “how have you been, you know, since the breakup and all?” with an “I’ve been okay” filled with lies didn’t go unnoticed, however, proved to be unsuccessful.

And the pity only got worse when Harry got a new girlfriend.

It was plastered everywhere, the rumors that Harry’s new girlfriend stayed at his hotel in Los Angeles and traveled with him back to London. They disclosed that her name was Jessica, who works as a travel blogger.

She was beautiful, too. More beautiful than she wanted her to be, as selfish as it was. She was the perfect image for him, especially at the height of his career.

Y/n’s heart hit rock bottom that day. Every unblemished part of it became a ruin, a shattered piece of what was once so full and whole.

Y/n hadn’t expected it, not this fast, at least. When Harry initiated the breakup, he told her that it wasn’t the end of their relationship. He had promised her that with the right amount of distance, all the problems they’ve had in their relationship would be fixed entirely.

She believed him, too. That with maybe some time apart, their bitterness towards each other would decease, and all that would remain would be the overwhelming needs for one another.

She should have never been so gullible. After they broke up, they never spoke to each other again. All their ties had been cut, leaving them both hanging in completely separate lives. Y/n never got over him. How could she? They were soulmates, they were each other’s everything. No matter what came at them, they always found a way back to one another.

But Harry’s fame started skyrocketing, leaving Y/n on the ground with no way to reach him anymore. She should have known he’d find someone else—someone more worthy of his time. She just didn’t want to believe it and didn’t want to believe that it had happened so soon.

“How are you feeling?” Gabby asks, reaching over the wooden table so that her fingers can rest on top of Y/n’s hand; a small gesture that Gabby has been giving Y/n nearly every day for the past four months.

Y/n wishes she found it as comfortable as it intended to be, however she can’t help feeling worse whenever Gabby did so. The gesture undoubtedly derives from the pity Gabby has had toward her ever since the breakup. Everything was because of pity.

She looks down at her cold, untouched hot chocolate as she swirls the straw along the brim, resisting to roll her eyes as it’s the only question everybody has seemed to ask her recently.

“The usual,” she shrugs, “nothing’s really changed.”

Gabby gives her a half smile before returning to her tea. The cafe is only occupied by the both of them, considering it’s 7 in the morning on a Sunday. But after everything that’s happened, Y/n’s sleep schedule has been slacking and Gabby wanted nothing more than to be there for Y/n whenever she had the chance.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Gabby asks. “It’s on me if you want anything.”

Y/n shrugs again, a faint yawn falling from her mouth as she shakes her head.

“No, I’m okay. I think I’ll make some waffles when I get home. But I’ll need to stop at the grocery store before I leave. Ran out of milk and flour the other day.”

“We could stop by now if you’d like. I’m getting quite full, anyways.”

“Yeah, sure” Y/n nods, “sounds fine.”

The entrance doors chime when Y/n and Gabby enter the grocery store, barely any people filling the aisles at such hours. Neither of them speak much before they go their separate ways, grabbing all the necessary ingredients Y/n needs for when she gets home.

When she finds flour on one of the bottom shelves, Y/n bends down to grab the cheapest one she could find. In all honesty, she didn’t have a lot of money to spend since she took some time off of work for “mental health reasons,” and she wanted nothing more than to go back home and spend the rest of her day in bed.

When she stands back up from her squatting position, her body rams into somebody else’s, making everything they both were carrying fall onto the floor.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Y/n gasps, scrambling to pick up the ingredients that have fallen from the girl’s arms.

When Y/n stands back up to return her fallen items, it was as if every nightmare Y/n has ever had was standing right in front of her.

She’d recognize her face anywhere. It haunted her everywhere she went; mocking her and destroying every last bit of her wellbeing. Her face is unforgettable, having been ingrained into her head for so long now. She’s exactly how she is in her pictures, except she’s so much more beautiful in person.

It’s when Y/n’s eyes drift down to the shirt she’s wearing that takes the breath right from her lungs.

The word Lover printed inside of a red heart, the end of it hidden by the pocket right on her chest. It looked so unfamiliar on her—so unfamiliar that tears started piling in her eyes and her lips began to quiver.

That shirt was theirs. That shirt belonged to Y/n and Harry.


It was a nickname Y/n always gave Harry. She would have normally settled for “babe” or “baby” like she did with her previous boyfriends, but “lover” came so naturally to her. It exemplified just how unique and rare their relationship was, too.

Harry had never been called that before, but there was something about it that felt so right. The first time she called him that, he blushed like no other. His cheeks and heart felt so warm, and Y/n wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. But no matter how much she joked about how much he blushed that night, it only made her call him that more.

And the more she said it, the more she realized that there was no other name to describe him.

She gave him the shirt for their first anniversary. She was insecure about it, considering it was the only gift she purchased him that year and wasn’t nearly as expensive as all the gifts Harry had given her. But after all the flowers she received had died months later, after all the chocolate he bought her had been eaten in two nights, after all the in-home spa treatments had been used by the both of them progressively throughout the months, and after all the sex they shared died down by the next morning, the only gift that remained so dearly to their hearts was that goddamn shirt.

The shirt became sentimental to their relationship and was almost used as a keepsake between the two of them. The mornings after making love, Y/n found herself slipping it on before rolling out of bed to make breakfast. Harry fell in love with her tendency to do so and always made sure she knew just how much he loved her for it.

This is my favorite look on you, he’d always say, where the shirt hung loosely from her frame and her skin scattered with the marks from his tongue.

Harry wore the shirt as a tradition, most commonly on their anniversaries or on any specific date that held such significance to their relationship. And every time Y/n saw him wearing it, she found it irresistible to kiss the heart designed right upon his chest.

My lover, she’d say, looks so perfect on you.

She never imagined anybody else in it. Even after they had broken up, she never thought the shirt would be passed down to later relationships Harry had with other women. When she moved out, he kept insisting that she should be the one to take it.

He looked down at the shirt all crinkled in his hands, the last compromise they had to make before Y/n officially moved out of their home. Her suitcases were packed neatly by the front door, the darkened sky from the storm waiting to approach making the house feel colder than it already had turned.

Y/n’s body was slumped against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes red with inevitable tears as they were forced to face the harsh reality of what was to come.

After three years of a relationship neither of them expected to end, Harry had insisted that they take a break from each other. With his career coming to its peak and Y/n spending most of her time in the office, their relationship was going through a rough patch that lasted far too long.

“You paid for this, you know,” Harry whispered, obstructing the silence that seemed to make the air around them thicker and harder to breathe, “this is yours, always has been.”

Y/n shook her head, a few loose tears falling from her face as she did so. In all honesty, she didn’t want to be reminded of it after this. It’s held so much meaning between the two of them throughout a majority of their years being together that she couldn’t stomach the thought of looking at it in her selection of wardrobe. Not when Harry won’t be by her side, not when Harry won’t be apart of her life anymore.

She placed her hand on top of his softly, stroking the knuckles of his clenched fingers with her thumb.

“It was ours. But when it comes down to it, I bought it for you. It was a gift, you should keep it.”

Harry clenched his fingers harsher against the fabric, his quivered lips attempting a small smile as he lifted it to his chest. His thumb traced the heart above the pocket, watching as one of his tears soak into the material.

“It looks better on you anyways.” Y/n tried to laugh through the silent cries, but neither of them had the heart to make light of the situation they were facing.

Harry’s eyes narrowed down at her while a small sigh fell from his lips.

“You know I’d never wear this again, right? Not until we find our way back to each other.”

Y/n’s shaken hands wiped the tears from her cheeks, her lips pursed together to ensure her broken sobs wouldn’t surface until she was alone in her car.

“Yeah, until we find our way back.”

She stood on her toes to reach his cheek, where she tentatively placed a kiss on the flushed skin.

“You’ll always be my lover.”

But looking back at it now, she wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a grocery store, crying pathetically in front of a complete stranger if she had just taken the damn thing.

How could he do this to me?

“Babe, are these eggs alr—“

Harry’s words get caught in his throat when he sees Y/n standing in front of Jessica with tears streaming down her face and cries shaking her body.

At first, his instinct is to reach his hand out to her. But as his eyes follow her tearful gaze to Jessica’s shirt, which is far too large for her frame, but still being worn on her body, the realization hits him that it’s probably the last thing she would want.

He flutters his eyes shut as an unbearable feeling starts to rise in his stomach. This is the most unfortunate time to see Y/n again, and he can’t imagine how much hatred flowing through Y/n’s system as he stands there, cowardly silenced.

Not a word comes out of his mouth. Not even a pathetic stutter of her name, or even a lift of his lips to greet her in the most minimal of ways.

The only thought swirling through Y/n’s mind is how could you not say anything to me? After everything you did, after what I’m witnessing now, how is there not one word to say?

He watches as pain settles in her eyes as she looks at him. It’s as if she’s begging for an explanation, or even an apology he doesn’t really mean. She’s just looking for something, and knowing that she’s not getting anything is taking all the remaining life out of her.  

But he has so much to say. There are so many apologies, so many thoughts all scrambling in his head that everything becomes incoherent. He wants to tell her how sorry he is, and how hard it is to live with himself after all that he’s done to her. He wants to tell her that he never gave her that fucking shirt, that Jessica found it in one of his drawers and put it on while he was still sleeping from the night before. He wants to tell her that it isn’t what it looks like, that it isn’t what everybody thinks this is. But his throat tightens and his tongue suddenly becomes numb, completely preventing him from saying all the things he wishes to say.

“Y/n, is everything alr—”

Gabby halts when she discovers Y/n’s crying body being watched by the very two people that broke her heart. She’s breaking, so evidently breaking and neither one of them are doing anything about it.

“I w—want to go home.” Y/n’s voice cracks, face twisting as Harry still doesn’t find anything to say to her. “Let’s just go home.”

If Gabby hadn’t witnessed her best friend go through so much pain within the last four months, she would have been able to contain all the rage she’s held toward Harry. But something inside of her snaps when she sees the shirt Jessica’s wearing.

“No!” Gabby spits.

Before anybody sees it happening, Gabby slams her fists against Harry’s chest. Jessica begins to scream while Y/n jumps in an attempt to remove Gabby’s wild arms away from him.

Harry doesn’t do anything to defend himself, though, as he allows her to keep swinging her arms at him. All he can think about it how much he deserves it—how much he deserves all of what’s coming at him.

“You’re such a fucking jerk, Harry!” Gabby roars. “You ruined her! Who the fuck do you think you are?!“

“Gab, stop.” Y/n mumbles, finally able to capture her arms.

Gabby squirms as she tries to escape Y/n’s harsh hold on her, but against Y/n’s anger mixed with all her overwhelming emotions, there is no match.

Y/n starts to push Gabby toward the doors, and it takes every bit of strength left in her to not turn around to look at him one last time. 

“You’re her biggest mistake! I hope you know that!”

John leaving soft little kisses on Sherlock’s forehead in the morning before going to clinic and Sherlock tugging at his shirt and mumbling to stay him for a bit more . So John lies beside him until he falls asleep again and then leaves for the clinic and then he can’t even concentrate in there because all he can think about s the crinkle in his shirt where Sherlock grabbed him in the morning and there is this stupid grin on his face the whole day. And then there is a text on his phone : “Why is there no scientific way of wearing a particular scent as perfume. I wanna wear you the whole day. Needs some research. - SHW”

John just smiles fondly and maybe blushes a little at the text and then sun reflects on the gold band of his ring finger he feels content like never before. 

Seventeen as: Things in Life

S.Coups: Bright red. Worn in baseball caps, over-sized jerseys, hot dogs and empty stadiums. The smell of fresh strawberries; Getting into your house after a day out in the winter; The feel of a new basketball. Warm summer nights. The sound of kids in the hallways on the last day of school after the bell rings; Screaming when you finally beat a hard level in a game; Teasing eyes; Mangoes.
Woozi: An untouched field of bright crisp snow; the satisfaction you get when you ace a test you thought you’d do bad on. Thick Holiday sweaters; paper lanterns glowing in dark streets; serious conversations with your normally easy-going friend at 2 in the morning. The colors mint and peach. Smiling to yourself as someone unknowingly compliments you. Laughing to yourself, embarrassed, after you caught yourself daydreaming about someone. The feel of new notebooks.

Hoshi: The rush of joy you feel all at once as you’re trying your hardest doing something you love. Watermelon Popsicle sticks. Turquoise. Giggles breaking the silence. 2007- 2009 pop songs that you still break out screaming to if they come on the radio. Cherry lip balm. Daisies. Empty hockey rings. Cheesy Valentine’s Day teddy bears. Spending hours on a project you’re working on, not noticing you worked through the night. Plastic water bottles.

Wonwoo: Ocean blue. Secret smiles. The jokes written on cards you get at the Pharmacy. Midnight walks. Being in a warm jacket outside during the fall. Apples. The feel of a cold PlayStation controller. Fresh pumpkins. Inside jokes with your friends. Laughing really hard after not laughing for a long time. The smell of clean linen. The moon’s reflection on a car window. Hugging a friend you haven’t seen in a while. Worn in converse sneakers. The sound of a shower running. Soft cloth. 

Mingyu: Warm cheesy pizza.  Unexpectedly laughing loudly. Ultramarine blue. Fuzzy socks. Riding your bicycle really fast and feeling the wind hit you. Mozzarella sticks. Ice cold soda on a hot day. The way gloves feel when they just got out the dryer.  Giggling to yourself as you enjoy doing something childish. Dancing to yourself in front of a mirror. The sound of the city on a busy day. Dipping new paint brushes into paint. Bright sunlight pouring in through a window.

Vernon: Staying up all night on the internet. Late night jokes with your friends. Burgers. Crinkled plaid shirts. Purple. The way your face scrunches up as you laugh really hard. 2 a.m. Ramen noodles. Feeling satisfied as you push yourself past your comfort zone and get good results. Jokes so bad they’re funny. Falling asleep to the sound of a tv show. Opening a new album package that you waited forever for. Plastic figurines. Feeling nervous on the first day of school. Rubber bracelets.  Relaxing car drives. 

Dino: Stretching in the morning. Lopsided beanies. Pumpkin seeds and tangerines. Long needed hugs. Making fake mohawks with shampoo/soap. Brand new comic books. The way your eyebrows furrow as you work hard doing something you love. The color green. Pinky promises. Randomly learning a  weird fact. Rushing to open  a package of takeout when you’re really hungry. Racing during gym. Ham and cheese sandwiches. 

Seungkwan: The smell of warm, fresh out the oven, buns. Pastel yellow and baby blue. Soft pajamas. Purposefully singing badly to a song. Scrapbooks. The taste of vanilla. The feeling of satisfaction and pride you get after you tell a joke and everybody starts laughing. Those dollar store kids hand sanitizers. Preppy button up shirts. Warm honey brown eyes. The way a librarian smiles at you sweetly. Snow falling in your hair. Thick fluffy scarves. Really puffy winter jackets. Dandelions. 

DK: Yellow and orange. Sunflowers. The way you squint your eyes when the sun is too bright. Fried chicken + french fries. Late night snacks. Sliding down wooden floors in socks. Terrible romantic movies. Imitating/mocking the GPS’ voice when you’re driving. Holding hands with your friends. The toy section at the dollar store. The smell of citrus.  Bananas. Finger painting. Bouncing your leg as you type away. Laughing with someone, adoration shining through your eyes.  Oversized shirts with jokes written on them. 

The8: Rubber bouncy balls. Happy family reunions. Fuzzy slippers. Tinsel. The faint sound of music playing at a bbq. Baby golden retrievers. Surprising yourself with your own strength. Bonfires late at night on the beach. The sun shinning extremely bright after it rained. Long eyelashes. Roast sessions with your friends. Coconuts; the smell of purple grapes. Holiday music playing in stores. Fake mustaches and waffles. Two toned/swirled ice cream. The way the warm sidewalk pavement feels against your bare feet.

Jun: Retro red. The night sky when there are no stars out. Kitchen aprons and rose petals. Steele blue. Brand new pencils. Bright white teeth and secret winks. Jumping in (clean) puddles when it’s raining. Airplanes. Apricots and strawberry jam. Cheap perfume and small tourist knick knacks. Warm caramel, covered in chocolate.  When your friend pulls through for you. 1 a.m. phone calls. Waking up before you’re supposed to and just laying there, thinking, until your alarm goes off. Fake-flirting with your friends. Plastic flower necklaces. 

Jeonghan: Neutral colors. Cactus’ and pastel flower pots. The silence before a storm. Sticking your tongue out playfully. Laughing so hard you accidentally hurt yourself by bumping into something. Messy toaster strudels. Accidentally succeeding at something/good luck. Nostalgia. When you’re tired but so excited you can’t sleep. Watching terrible comedy movies with your friends and laughing more with each other than at the movie. Cinnamon toothpaste. Saltine crackers; absentmindedly laying in a weird position when you’re invested in your hobby. 

Joshua: Worn down wood. Maple syrup on warm fluffy pancakes. Procrastinating by watching strange useless videos on Youtube. Old headphones. When your desk is messy but you kinda just know where everything is. Coffee shops and doughnuts with sprinkles. The sound of traffic at night. Knowing every word to a child’s song you haven’t sang in years. Chipped nail polish. Jeans and messy hair. Seeing your own breath when it’s  very cold out. Drawing small hearts on the car window. Secret Pinterest boards.


“Could you maybe write an Harry oneshot where it’s the 1940s and he really is a soldier (like dunkirk) and you meet him while he’s serving?”

Okay, I actually enjoyed writing this one SO much, so thank you to whoever it was that requested it! When you read this, just picture Dunkirk Harry. You’re welcome. Also, there is definitely some smut.

Part two is HERE.

Let me know what you think, and if you have any requests for future oneshots, you can ask me HERE.

2902 words.


Four nurses shuffled quickly into the army medical tent, carrying a heavy stretcher. There was a man lying on it, writhing and moaning in pain, his skin waxy and pale, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His eyes were closed, hands gripping the sides of the stretcher so hard that his knuckles had gone completely white. There was a hole in his trousers, and blood covering the area around it, rapidly seeping further and further into the thick, woolen fabric. Annabelle sighed, frowning, deepening the permanent lines that marked her forehead from months and months of stress. “Put him here,” she instructed, directing the stretcher onto one of the few free gurneys before shooing the other nurses from his side as she got to work. She was quick, and she was good, the best of the bunch, her hands working efficiently on the man before him. 

She unbuckled his trousers, giving them a sharp tug as she pulled them down his legs, leaving them bunched at his ankles as she turned her attention to his wound. “Right… Sir, I’m going to need you to just bare with me, alright? Stay as still as you can while I work,” she instructed, her eyes finding his. He opened his eyes for the first time since entering the tent upon hearing her soft but firm voice, looking back at her, his pained moans softening as he gazed at her bright blue eyes. There was something about them that comforted him instantly, maybe it was just because she was the first woman he had looked at properly in months, maybe it was because he missed his mother. Or maybe it was just because she was her, and there was something about her. Whatever it was, he was grateful, offering her a weak nod as residual tremors from the shock of the incident ran through his body. “What’s your name?” she asked softly. “Harry,” he croaked, his voice rough and laced with pain. 

“Alright then Harry, here we go,” she nodded, tying a strip of cotton tightly around his upper thigh, a little above the wound, the bleeding slowing almost immediately in response to the newly applied pressure. She bit her lip as she worked, her eyes squinting as she concentrated intently. She looked around, eyes searching for a spare ream of fabric to start blotting the blood with. It had been a huge day, and the next drop of supplies wasn’t expected until the morning. In the meantime, they were running dangerously low on… well, pretty much everything, and using soiled rags to clean a fresh, open wound would almost definitely cause an infection. Once the infection hit… Well, Annabelle had lost too many good men to even consider the dirty rags as an option.

She sighed, frustrated, beginning to unbutton her crinkled shirt, tugging it out from the waistband of her pants. Harry watched her, the pain in his leg slowly starting to turn to a dull thudding ache, the strip of tied cotton doing its job. “Yeh wearing pan’s. No dress,” he noted, slurring his words slightly, suddenly feeling incredibly sleepy as he struggled to keep his eyes open. “Pants are more practical,” she answered, pulling the shirt from her frame, leaving her in a skintight, white vest. “Harry, I’m going to need you to keep those eyes open,” she said firmly, a hand coming to rest on his cheek. He pulled his eyes open as quickly as he could manage, finding hers again, nodding up at her. She was beautiful, radiant, an angel. “Pretty,” he mumbled, grinning up at her. She offered him a tight smile, trying to ignore the flush creeping onto her cheeks. It felt good to be complimented, despite the fact that it was probably coming from someone who was delusional from pain. It had been so long since… well, any kind of normality, and for one brief moment, the stranger lying before her had made her feel like a giggling teenager meeting her sweetheart for a milkshake.

She pushed these sudden, disconcerting feelings aside, focusing on the matter at hand. “Oh god. Bullet’s still in your leg,” she muttered, peering closely at the wound as she dabbed at it with her shirt. “Harry. This is going to hurt. A lot,” she warned, picking up one of her few tools, pausing before going in. He let out a guttural yell, his leg jerking helplessly as the cool metal of the medical pliers dug into the raw wound. “Still,” she instructed, one hand holding his leg down as best she could as the other worked. She plucked the small, metal bullet from him a few minutes later, triumphant as she dropped it, along with the pliers, into a small steel bowl. “All done. All done sir,” she reassured, her hand coming up to press against his forehead. His cheeks were streaked with tears, skin even sweatier than before, body trembling. He leaned into her touch, her hand cold against his burning skin. “Than’you,” he mumbled. “It’s my job,” she murmured back.

They stayed like this for a minute or two, lost in the moment, the activity of the small, understaffed medical tent bustling around them. “Okay,” Annabelle murmured eventually, pulling her hand away and straightening up. Harry’s eyes opened, offering her a small smile. “Okay,” she repeated, ignoring his gaze as she went back to work on his wound. She cleaned it out and patched him up, wiping away the blood and dirt that covered most of the parts of him that she could see. Once she had finished, she unclipped the brakes of the rolling gurney his stretcher bed lay on, pushing him towards the section of the tent for recovering soldiers.

“There we go,” she hummed, pulling a heavy, woolen blanket up and over him, loosening the clothing that he still wore as best she could, tucking a thin pillow under his damp curls. “Try and get some rest,” she instructed, finding his eyes. “You’re going to be just fine,” she added, offering him a small but reassuring smile. All he could do was smile back at her, and although there was definitely still a throbbing pain in his leg, he felt comforted and safe by her presence alone. She turned to leave, hesitating before turning back to him, leaning over him to press a gentle but quick kiss to his cheek. “Was lovely to meet you, Harry,” she murmured, turning on her heel and leaving properly this time. His eyes followed her as she moved away, watching her journey around the tent as she checked on some of the other injured men, until he eventually drifted off to sleep.


Annabelle shuffled around her small tent, changing into her nightie and pulling on her dressing gown, washing her hands and face in the small basin of water in the corner of the tent. As the head nurse, she had been awarded the solitary tent, and she was eternally grateful, glad to have a place where should could be alone and think after each endless day of hard, unpleasant work. She bent to light the candles by her bed, letting out a slow sigh as she finally began to relax. She would be up before sunrise tomorrow, and so now was the time to get as much rest as she could. She straightened quickly when she heard the sound of slow feet and crutches, turning to watch the entrance of her tent. “Hello?” she called, her voice hesitant. 

“H’lo,” she heard, the voice familiar, but she couldn’t put a finger on where she knew it from. “Jus’ me, Harry,” the voice continued, and Annabelle relaxed slightly, crossing to the tent entrance and pulling it back. “Hello,” she murmured, her eyes taking in the man before her. He was stood in a pair of woolen shorts and an army shirt, a bandage wrapped around the wound she had so carefully tended to. It had been a week since she had treated him, and while they had seen each other in passing, the pair had had pretty much no contact. That didn’t stop his face from popping in her mind whenever she got a second to think about something other than her work. “What are…” she trailed off, hesitating. “Come in,” she said eventually, stepping aside to allow space for him to enter.

He made his way in slowly, standing slightly awkwardly in the middle of the tent. She adjusted the tent entrance, tying it shut before turning to face him, her eyes filled with both confusion and curiosity. Her heart was beating faster than it had been before he arrived, and her cheeks felt slightly flushed. “What can I do for you? Is your leg alright?” she asked, her eyes flicking to look at the bandage once more.  “No, no… M’fine… I jus’- Sorry, wha’s yeh name?” he asked, meeting her gaze. “Oh! Annabelle,” she answered, a small, shy smile playing on her lips. She looked so different to him this way, her skin lit up by the dim light of the candles, her hair cascading over her shoulders, undone from it’s usual tight bun. “Annabelle,” he repeated, nodding. Her name coming out of his mouth sounded so good. 

“I jus’… I wan’ed to thank yeh fer wha’ yeh did. Fer bandaging me up and tha’,” he mumbled, glancing down at his thigh. “Oh. Well, you’re welcome,” she smiled, a little disappointed that that was all he had to say. She didn’t know what she expected, but there was something about him that made her want to just wrap her arms around him and hold him, and she wondered if he maybe felt the same way. “An’… I…” he trailed off, looking up at her face. She took a step towards him, their faces hovering close to each other. “Yes?” she asked breathlessly. He took a deep breath, and then went for it, leaning in and closing the gap between them, pressing his chapped lips to her soft ones. Her eyes widened momentarily and then flickered shut, pressing into the kiss, her hands coming up to rest on his chest. 

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Take Care of You

Originally posted by hardyness

Imagine: Newt finds the reader crying and alone, he makes it his top priority to reassure them that he’ll always be there to take care of them. 

Request: (ANONYMOUS) Can u write some cute fluffy Newt even just like something short even I’m having a bad time and I can’t shake my depression and anxiety and loneliness plz and thx ily

(@textsfromeponinet​) I had a very bad day today. Could I request a fluffy story where Newt takes care of the reader after a bad day.

Author’s Note: I wrote something small, not that much fluff, just hope you both, and anyone else feeling a bit down can read these and feel a bit better. If you ever need or want to talk, rant or have a plain ole conversation, chuck me a message. I love you all. x

Word Count: 692

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Three Wisemen and a Lemon Curd - Thirty Minutes and a Lemon Curd Christmas One Shot

It’s January 6th! The end of Christmas, for real. Better late than never on this (thanks, technology!), though, so here it is at last as a final gasp of the holiday season! Happy 2017 to all. Enjoy! x

Warning: daddy!kink… I tried to keep it out of Christmas, but, well…. 

Harry hasn’t touched you since you’d mentioned it.


 With your family.

 Technically, you’d told him as you’d straddled his lap and he’d held onto your hips with an unblinking, nearly terrified look in his eyes, it wasn’t Christmas. It was a few days after Christmas, because you’d agreed to spend Christmas with Harry, Anne, Robin, Gemma, and her newest beau ages ago.

 He knows your family – he’s met them, even, several times – but he’s not… well… it’s just… that detail about the fact that he’d deflowered you and thrown you into a whirlwind romance that has you picked over by the vultures of the press. He’s not been around them since that news broke.

 “You’re not going to tell them that,” you’d rolled your eyes at him. “I’d prefer if you didn’t, actually,” you’d said while kissing his forehead to seal your request.

He’s treated you like you’re a nun or he’s a priest since then, though. Your first semester at university had ended a few days ago, and after not visiting you for even one weekend since the beginning of December, you’re to spend the entirety of break with him in his flat. Anytime you sidle closer to him or teasingly hold mistletoe above your head, though, all he does is give you a chaste little kiss and maybe a squeeze around the middle before mulling over the next item on the Christmas prep list. Anything that dares to venture under the belt is swiftly nipped in the bud as if he’s only ever had wet dreams and the thought of acting on them makes him want to jump out of his skin. His reasoning, he’d explained to you after the first few celibate days, is to keep his mind focused and clean. He’d prefer not to remember your moans, asking him to cum, please, when he’s asking for the gravy to be passed his way at the table.

Keep reading

The Joker x Pregnant Reader 2

Well, it happened and that’s all there is to it. Cross your fingers and hope for the best. At least he didn’t try to kill you…yet.    T__T

Read Part 1 here:

“Oh, wow…this is going to be an amazing night,” you manage to utter, letting your body collapse on top of the Joker’s, starting to unbutton his shirt while kissing him.

“Anything I can do to keep my Pumpkin happy,” he snickers, panting with desire. “God, I really missed you”. His blue eyes look for yours and then you both stop for a few seconds, gazing at each other.

“You were gone like, for two days  J, ” you smile, teasing him.

“Yeah, and I missed you. You didn’t miss me?!” he frowns, biting your neck line, making sure to leave a few marks.

“Well…it was so nice and quiet…”you start telling him when you suddenly feel the pinches go down all over your body and he finally violently gropes you, satisfied he made you squeal.

“Why are you misbehaving, hmm?” he growls, pulling down on your skirt.

“You know why, baby” you wink, quickly jumping off him, backing out towards the wall.

“Hey, get back in bed, Kitten!”

“Noooope,” you lick your lips, starting to undress. “You come over here.”

“Ohhh… my naughty little minx. Daddy likes!” he purrs, getting out of the bed and slowly walking towards you, tossing his now unbuttoned shirt on the floor.

Suddenly, you can hear Emma’s cry coming from her room.

The Joker freezes for a moment, panicked, then before you can move, he is very fast in trapping you against the wall. His knee goes in between your legs and his hands on the sides of your head, grinding his silver grill in annoyance.

“You’re not going anywhere!”

“J, she’s crying, probably had a nightmare,” you chuckle, amused he’s behaving like this (again).

“NO, I need you!” He’s pushing himself against you even harder.

“Come on, baby, let me go,” you plead, struggling against his body.

“No, you have to pay attention to ME!”

Crying intensifies.

“I have to go, she won’t stop,” you beg, kissing him softly and trying to look as disappointed as you can.

“You’re mine, I don’t like to share. I saw you first,” he mutters, knowing the battle is already lost.

That doesn’t sound childish at all.

“You’re 39, she’s not even 2. I think you have a better chance of surviving this…yes..?” you try to reason with him and he’s sulking.

He takes a deep breath, pouting:

“Remind me again why we have a kid, Y/N.”

“Because we couldn’t let my beauty, brains, charm, awesomeness and your…amazing cheekbones go to waste.”

“Ha! Funny…” he whispers with a sarcastic tone, finally releasing you from his little trap. “I’ll go get her.”

“Awww, you’re such a good dad, J , “ you mock, watching him walk funny towards the door. “Your sacrifice will be remembered in the years to come.”

“Yeah, whatever!”


Emma is now in your bed, cuddled on top of the Joker, sucking on her thumb with her eyes closed while he keeps on caressing her hair. You take a picture of the cute moment. Your phone is full of thousands of pics you snap all the time when J is being sweet with her. Considering everything, he’s actually a good parent. At first you watched him like a hawk, of course, but he never tried to hurt her or anything, even if he creates such a fuss over the little things that happen on a daily basis. You swear: sometimes you feel like you have two kids.


Morning time and you fumble around the kitchen while J is watching Emma, reading her a story. You hear him talk so you stop and listen.

“…and while they were trying to escape, boom!!! Huge explosion, blood everywhere,” he claps his hands and she laughs with her little mouse voice.

“B’ood da’y?” (she can’t really say “daddy”, but there are a few times when she manages to say it clearly).

“Yes, lots of it, all over!” She can’t really understand, but he makes her laugh with his dramatic gestures.

“J, what are you telling her?!” you shout from the kitchen.

“Well, Princess, whoever wrote this garbage for kids should be killed. I had to add something to spice it up, it’s atrocious.”

“J, stop telling her stuff like that, she’s just a baby!” you ask, shaking your head in disapproval and going back to rearranging the kitchen.


“It always puzzles me: don’t I look intimidating? Why isn’t Emma afraid of me?”

“ She takes after her mom,” you answer, rolling your eyes at the obvious reason.


“SHE TAKES AFTER HER MOM!” you yell louder, chuckling.

“I heard you the first time, I just thought you won’t have the guts to repeat that.”

“Ha, ha that would be the day!” you puff, opening the fridge.

The Joker tickles Emma, speaking in a low voice:

“See what I have to deal with? Mommy’s feisty, but I love it. When you grow up, don’t be sassy to daddy, ok? I already have one pain in the ass.“ She sits quietly in his lap, trying yet again to peel his J and the star tattoos on his face, thinking they are stickers.  

He didn’t notice you standing in front of the desk now, arms crossed and eyebrows lifted, staring him down. He lifts his eyes and sees the expression on your face:

“Oh, hey Y/N… Dammit, am I sleeping on the couch tonight?”

“You’re getting close, baby” you scoff, going back to your work.

Some time passed and you don’t hear anything anymore. You go to see what’s going on and you see J widely grinning, with a bunch of personalized stickers on his face and your daughter peeling them. (A while ago, he ordered lots of identical stickers with his J and star tattoo so she can enjoy taking them off.) You think it’s adorable and snap another pic.

“You’re such a good girl,” he kisses her forehead, enjoying she’s preoccupied with something so he can take a look at Gotham’s map on his desk. “I always say that to mommy too when I…”

“J, what the hell?! Shut it down!”

He snickers, winking and roaring in your direction.

The knock in the door stops the little rant you were about to give him.

“Cooooome innnn,” the Joker playfully drags the words, squeaking, earning a laugh and a kiss on the cheek from his daughter that he’s absolutely thrilled about.

Frost comes in and Emma becomes so impatient that J has to put her down. She runs to him, grabbing his leg and reaching for him. You notice The Joker doesn’t look happy at all right now and you go and sit in his lap as fast as you can, firmly holding his right hand on your leg and putting his left one around your waist.

“F’ostyyyy, up… up!” He pics her up and she shyly places her tiny arms around his neck, hugging him.

“Hey there, Em,” Frost smiles, holding her tight to his chest.

“That’s my kid…” he mumbles in your ear, getting pissed. He tries to get up but you hold him down.

“Steady, J ” you smile, stroking his green hair, finding it funny he is always so possessive.

“She’s my little Princess, mine!” he moves around in the chair, uncomfortable.

“Yes, baby, everything is yours and yours alone, ok? She likes him and he’s good to her, I told you before there’s no harm in it, “ you kiss his temple while he’s fuming.

“Boss,” Jonny tries to start the conversation but stops when he sees the Joker looking away, averting his eyes on purpose.

“Ummm… Y/N, you’re coming with us tonight, right?”

“Oh, yes, I want those diamonds so bad. It’s said they are huggeee!!” you squirm, happy that you can wear them soon.


Mister J went into his office to look over the bank’s plans for your raid tonight. He will stay home with Emma but wants to make sure everything will be ok for you. He marks the exits with a black marker, drawing a line over the entry point. Some explosives should do the work. And the diamonds are right…here-marked with an “X”. Music starts blasting in the penthouse and he sighs, annoyed. How is he supposed to concentrate?! He gets up and opens the door, wanting to complain and tell you to turn it down, when what’s going on in the living room stops him. You swing your body to the beat and Emma is in front of you, trying to imitate your moves, looking completely adorable as she tries so hard to follow what you do. You just laugh and look so happy that the Joker catches himself standing in the doorway, a smile forming in the corner of his mouth. He takes out his cell and starts recording you two. If one of these days he gets killed, he wants the cops, the SWAT team or Batsy to find this on him, watch it and know that The Clown Prince of Crime had it all, on his own terms, and didn’t give a damn about what anyone thinks.


“Achoo!” her little sneeze makes you turn around from your current task: making sure you have everything you need for tonight’s heist. The Joker’s green shirt is full of yogurt which he was feeding her when she sneezed. Emma starts giggling and you follow.

“Really kid? On daddy’s Prada shirt?” he crinkles his nose, looking at the fabric to assess the damage. “And you, Kitten, are setting up a bad example. Why are you laughing?”

“Because it’s FUNNY; I’ll get you another shirt, hold on,” you continue to snicker as you go to the master bedroom.

“I get no respect around here anymore,” he frowns, tilting his head, trying to stay mad but can’t contain his smile hearing his daughter cracking up. She can’t stop giggling.

“Wha’? You’re getting a kick from doing something you’re not supposed to?… That’s my girl, you’re definitely my kid.” He feels such pride building inside his chest. He cups her face, squeezing her cheeks and kissing them all over.

Definitely? Like in there’s any doubt Emma wouldn’t be yours, hmmm?” you narrow your eyes, smacking your lips, not very pleased, tossing the new shirt at him. He hates it when you sneak up on him and you always catch him at the right moment, talking nonsense.“Wanna repeat that to me, MISTER J?” Oops, you’re using Mister J when you’re really pissed and he knows it. But you’ve been so moody lately anyway.


You’ve put Emma to bed and you are done preparing for the robbery tonight. After everything is done, you go in the living room and sit by him on the couch. He’s watching the news, quiet for the last hour, which is unlike him. You lean your head on his legs, wrapping your arms around his knees.

“What’s wrong, handsome?” you ask while he starts combing your hair with his fingers, paying attention to the TV.

“Do you think Emma’s… ok?” he suddenly starts the conversation.

“Yeah, she’s fine; I just put her to bed.”

“That’s not what I meant” he cuts you off and you know what he’s aiming at. “You know I’m… different and…”

Insane…” you start the sentence.

“Did you just call me insane?!” he pulls your hair and you gasp.

“…ly awesome, let me finish, jeez. That hurt.”

He yanks your hair again, and you punch his abs, not too hard.

“Relax baby, she’s fine. We’re fine, all right? We managed so far, didn’t we?”

He seems distracted and starts caressing your hair again. You suddenly realize it, jumping up so fast you knock down the remote out of his hand.

“J, she’s asleep!”

He gives you a confused glare.

“She’s asleep! Let’s go, me and you!” You pull him up, dragging him after you.

“Ohhhh,” he finally gets it and a huge smirk creeps on his face. “Shit, we wasted some precious minutes.” He stops you and lifts you up, carrying you in the bedroom bridal style.

Operation Mission Impossible was a total success. Hooray! *NO interruptions*


You tiptoe inside the penthouse, silently closing the door behind you. You hold the huge box in your hands, full of the diamonds you wanted so badly. Now they are yours and it makes you so pleased. Tonight’s heist went incredibly well and you are in a good mood. Where are your sunshines? You go to Emma’s bedroom to find her cuddling with her dad under her pink blanket. An “awww” escapes your lips and you take a picture, the millionth one now. It’s definitely heartwarming. You know who else needs to see this? you think, since you’re in such a happy place for the moment. Batsy. Since you’re not sleepy, you are going to finally do what you’ve planned for a while.


The Bat notices the sky light lit for him and he rushes to the spot, thinking Gordon has some kind of emergency. There is nobody on the top of the building except something that seems like a photo album surrounded by knives. There is a note on top of it:” For Batsy, from Mrs. J” and the mark of your pink lipstick kissing the paper. Bruce Wayne is intrigued. He opens the photo album and his face changes from one expression to another. What is the meaning of this?! Pics of the Joker and his daughter immortalized in different cute, adorable, mundane, NORMAL moments.

This must be a bad joke and for sure photo shopped, he thinks, mad he wasted his time, but he still takes the album with him. Once back to his Bat Cave, he analyzes every single one of his little presents with all the gadgets he has and surprisingly, they are genuine. Wow, how come? How is it possible that’s the Joker he always chases after?! He seems so…ordinary.

He has to admit you two have a very, very cute little girl. He flips through the pages, choosing his favorite picture where Emma is smiling playing with her dad. He draws horns and a mustache on the Joker’s face, then frames the pic and puts it on one of the shelves. You will probably never get to see it, but there’s a picture of your daughter and partner in crime right inside the Bat Cave.


You found out the big news today and you can’t wait to share.

J is in his office, planning to crush the Wayne Industry party happening next week. He is filled with excitement and has a few good ideas on how it’s all going to play.

You kick the door open, running in his lap, tossing his papers all over, and before he protests you kiss him deeply, take his hand and put it on your abdomen:


“…   …  No way… …!” he gasps, speechless for once.“Oh my God, Kitten, really? Really? Like, for reals?” he can’t hide his joy anymore as his hand presses harder on your tummy.

“Yes, baby, for reals” you let out a small scream, excited to the max.

“Wowww, are  you going to be super mean to me since we have twins in there? Double the amount?”

“Most likely,” you giggle, knowing it’s true.

“Oh, goody, I can’t wait, you know I love it when you’re mean to me.”
You lift your shoulders, entertained:

“Whatever rocks your boat, J .”

He keeps on rambling on:

“I so love it when you feel like killing me and I wanna strangle you for it.”

“You’re such an incurable romantic baby,” you moan, getting turn on by his words.

“I know, right? When am I not romantic?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” you demand, biting his ear.


**You are definitely very emotional with this pregnancy.  You just broke one of your nails while loading a gun and started crying instantly.

“What’s wrong, Princess?” J stops loading his own gun, looking at you with concern.

“I.. broke…my ..naaaiiill,” you sniffle, not being able to control your tears, showing him the carnage.

Uh-oh, emergency situation again, the Joker sighs, taking your hand.

“You want me to kiss it so you feel better?”

“I’m not… 5 years old, J,…ok?” you stutter, whimpering, but in the same time nodding yes. He kisses your broken nail and surprisingly it feels better instantly and you stop crying.

“That felt good, thanks,” you smile now, wiping your tears and going back to what you were doing like nothing happened.

Mister J closes his eyes, satisfied he pleased his Pumpkin and avoided catastrophe.

** You have weird cravings.

“Babbyyyy, I want popcorn and pickles, can you go get that for me? Pleaseeeeee” you whine, agitated he’s not moving out of bed yet.

“Kitten, ask Frost. Give him a call, he’s downstairs. I’m beat.”

“I want you to get it. It’s your fault: you knocked me up, you’re responsible!!!” you yelp, starting to cry again.

“Daddy is going, ok? Stop crying, Pumpkin.”

He gets out of bed and stops before he opens the door.

“You better be meaner to me when I come back!”

“OK, I will, I promise,” you say through tears, smiling in the same time.

Men, this is going to be so much fun, J thinks, excited you’ll treat him like trash and he’s going to enjoy it so much. He’s probably the only one around with that kind of kink. Lucky you.

Also read- MASTERLIST:

Daddy issues

What happens when you can’t pay for your 5 doughnuts and one hot chocolate order, because you forgot your wallet at home? You find yourself a sugar daddy. Or that’s what happened to a grumpy Min Yoongi.

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Jeon JungKook | ft. Kim NamJoon 

Word count: 2692 

Warnings: Swearing 

A/N: Fourth chapter! Yay! Posted this sooner than I had expected. Anyways, there’s not much happening in this chapter but I feel like it’s essential for the plot to move forward. Promise more interesting chapters will come. Hope you’ll enjoy :)

JungKook was sitting on the plastic chair in the waiting room, with his fingers crossed on his lap and head fallen onto his chest. A few hair strands were rising from his forehead and the light coming from the open window was creating shadows on his serene face. His features appeared sharper than usual, the lines stronger and more masculine. Everything seemed to be carved with a too blunt knife with unprecise moves. He looked old even though he was barely 32. He lightly shifted in his sleep and his arms fell around his body.

The hallway was empty and quiet, the grey linoleum shining in the artificial light. It smelled like chlorine mixed with something sickly sweet, which reminded the visitor that death was near. That death ruled the place. The stench of decomposing bodies in too gleaming coffins.

Keep reading

juliaslouisdreyfus  asked:

Do dan/amy with #1

1. Things you said to me at 1AM | Post s-6, in which Amy is eight months pregnant, there’s a crib that needs building, and Dan is a complete fucking tool.

(Bitch, I went well over a thousand words with this, so… thanks for that.)


Arriving home, she hadn’t expected to see a couple dozen boxes - some smaller, some larger - littering the rooms of the apartment.

“Dan!” She’d called out, hoping to find her roomate-come-baby-daddy-but-definitely-not-partner nearby. He’d called to say he’d be home early. And it’s gone twelve, so where the fuck-

“In the other room.”

Keep reading

So this is a minific for @shutupanddontjudge, #22 Things You Said After It Was Over

I’m really sorry this is so late, I wrote it and then forgot about it :( it’s rough and unedited but I hope you enjoy! And if course I’m always open for feedback!


MI6 was quiet.

Not in the traditional sense of the word. The sounds of people walking on tiled floors, typing on computers, quiet chatter and the dinging of the elevator as it reached its newest destination still rang on. Yet there was something different, that made it quiet. Something missing.

And that something was none other than James Bond.

The word ‘RETIRED’ was stamped across 007’s file as it lay on Q’s desk. Pictures of James from within lay about the desk, a few used tissues scattered around as well. In the corner of the office is a couch where a man lay, his nice shirt crinkled from having been slept in and his glasses carelessly tossed on the floor next to him. His eyes are red from crying and clutched in his hand is a letter.

A letter from James Bond.

Q almost doesn’t read it. Mental images of James and Madeline together make him ill to the stomach, and Q would like nothing more than to forget that James Bond ever existed. But he gives in, and his shaking hands tear open the envelope. He pulls out the letter and reaches for his glasses. He slips them on so he can see the carefully thought out message. It’s shorter than he would have liked it to be. Shorter than he would’ve thought it needed to be.

“ Q,
I’m finished being an agent. It’s all I’ve ever known but I’d fancy taking a shot at settling down. Maybe that means I’m officially an old man.
Thank you, for everything.
- James Bond ”

“Thank you…?” Q mumbles to himself. “Thank you for what you selfish prick?” His voice grows louder as he speaks and tears roll down his cheek. “For being your fuckbuddy? For letting you lead me on until you found someone better?” His voice falls quiet, and the tears fall more rapidly. “I loved you. And after everything…all I get is some stupid thank you.”

Summer Crush

(300 words a day-day 2).


There’s that guy again. He’s there in front of the sunglasses stand, trying some on.

Tap, tap, tap.

Loki’s tapping a customer’s credit card on the counter, waiting for the screen to clear so he can try to run it again, and watches him.

Gorgeous blonde hair pulled back into a bun. Tucking one stubborn loose strand behind his ear over and over again. Looks in the narrow mirror. Takes a pair of aviators with red lenses off. Puts a pair with black lenses, cool frame on. He’s got a necklace on and the pendant is catching the light. Silver pendant on a golden chain that’s reaching the middle of his chest and Loki can’t stop staring.


Winks and slow smiles. The sun looking like a white ball of bubble gum up there. Clear skies. Warm palms cupping Loki’s face. The handle of the back door leading into the store pressing into Loki’s lower back. Breath that feels like summer making his lips feel like they’re embraced by the sun. Palms angling his head back. Mouth filled with breaths and kisses. The blonde kisses him and it feels like freedom. Chest pressed to chest and there’s the pendant between them, suspended by the crinkles in their shirts, sliding on the chain from left to right, right to left, whispering.


Soft pillows under Loki’s head. The hot blonde’s new pair of sunglasses lying upside down on the windowsill. Two t-shirts in a tiny heap on the floor, one grey and one black. Warm body pressed to his. Strong thumbs caressing his cheeks. And that pendant dangling just above him clasped around the most beautiful neck Loki’s ever seen. Loki parts his lips and takes the pendant between his teeth. It feels warm on his tongue and he sucks all the bitterness out of it.


You ask him to help you unzip the back of your dress because you can’t get it (SEVENTEEN)

S.Coups: -the boys were convinced you didn’t exist because he never brought you over to meet them except for tonight because you were going to stay over. The two of you arrived just a view before the other boys did so when the boys entered to see Seungcheol sitting there watching tv they were teasing him about his “date”. ‘Oppa can you unzip my dress’ rang through the dorm leaving all the boys shocked- “coming jagi”

Originally posted by howona

Jeonghan: -you hated dressing up but Jeonghan was very happy to see you in a dress so you thought it was ok then. So as soon as you got back to your place you were trying to reach the zipper on the back of the dress, so you began wondering how you even got it on and let out a groan you headed out to ask him to help you.- “aw do I have to baby you look so cute in it but if I have to”

Originally posted by gyuwoo

Joshua: -you have been struggling for the past 5 minutes to reach the zipper of the dress, you roommate was out so you and Joshua could have the apartment to yourselves. Groaning you walked out to Joshua and asked him if he unzip the back of your dress- “gladly Y/N”

Originally posted by gyuwoo

Jun: -he was being a normal boy so when he decided to stay on your bed while you tried to get out of your dress. He was leaning on your bed watching you struggle and giggling. Giving it one last try you gave up and asked him to unzip it. He got up and relaxed your shoulders as he unzips it enough that you could unzip it the rest of the way- “let me know if you need help getting out of anything else jagi”

Originally posted by reyear

Hoshi: -you were going hanging out with the boys after a shift at work where you had to were the merch the store sold. Today you made the mistake of wearing a dress you have to unzip from behind but you did think ahead enough to bring spare clothes.As soon as you got to the dorm you asked Hoshi to unzip the dress in the middle of the livingroom area with all the other boys around- “um yeah sure babe lets got to my room first, don’t want the boys seeing too much of you”

Originally posted by kwonstarch

Wonwoo: -he’s been watching you for the passed 5 minutes struggle to get out of the dress, not saying a word just listening to you groan and whine about not being able to get it off. He was just waiting for you to give up in defeat but it was taking longer than he thought. You let out a grumpy yell before you made your way over to him and asked him to unzip you- “took you long enough babe, now turn around so I can get it”

Originally posted by wunwu

Woozi: -you lived on your own so you and Woozi could have date nights without having to worry about the boys or roommates. But the downside right now was you couldn’t get your dress unzipped, Woozi was wondering what was taking so long. Knocking on the door he asked if you were alright and you told him you couldn’t reach the zipper on your dress. He hatched out a plan- “I’ll unzip your dress IF you let me stay over for the night”

Originally posted by parklunacy

DK: -Seokmin managed to get his shirt caught in the zipper of the dress you were wearing and neither of you could figure out how to get it out of the zipper without one of you having to take something off. So after a few moments you decided to ask him to unzip the dress as unawkardly as possible. He did just that so when you were out of the dress you threw a large shirt on and turned to see him standing there smiling with a heavily crinkled shirt- “I got it, p.s. I like the choice in underwear” 

Originally posted by shininghoshi

Mingyu:-you were going to the dressing room to get changed after your groups performance having to dance in a dress wasn’t one of your most favorite things in the world. So when you entered Mingyu was already in there waiting for you. You asked him to unzip you which he did, then you told him to leave so you could change- “that’s no fair I was in here before you were I should be allowed to stay

Originally posted by svnten

The8: -he was helping you pick out a dress for a friends birthday. You two were doing the couply thing and trying to wear matching colors. So dress after dress he told you none of them were the right color or looked right for you. So you thought you finally found a winner you realized it was easier to get on than off so now you were trying to get the zipper but you couldn’t. So you walked out to him to ask him if he’d unzip it for you- “that all depends if this is the dress you’ll be getting because I think it looks amazing on you Y/N”

Originally posted by camera-seventeen

Seungkwan: -you guys were going to the beach today with the rest of the boys, he was rather excited because he would get to see you in a swimsuit for the first time. But the sundress you picked was a zipper back which your mom made you wear just incase you didn’t go to the beach. So as the boys were picking on him for being excited you yelled out if he could unzip, so he playfully pushed Vernon out of his way- “yeah coming baby!”

Originally posted by j1nwoo

Vernon: -your date night was ruined by a heavy downpour which ended up soaking you both. So you had to stay over at the dorm for the evening because your parents couldn’t pick you up and they didn’t want you to walk home in the current weather. So Vernon was letting you borrow one of his shirts for the night while your dress was drying. Since there wasn’t many places to change you asked if he could turn around while you changed which he did do but now you couldn’t get the zipper on the back down so you quickly asked him if he would undo it for you- “if I do are you going to make me turn around again?”

Originally posted by sneezes

Dino: -it was a new dress and Chan had been the same person who zipped up the dress but not before he broke off the handle attached to the zipper and you yelled at him for it. But the two of you still had to go out to a friends party for the night. Now that you two happened to be staying over you asked him if he would unzip it for you- “that depends if you’re going to yell at me again or not”

Originally posted by seokmjn

“A’right, I’m back.” Harry plopped down on the couch, running a hand through his hair before turning to look at Niall. 

Niall was currently in the middle of planning Harry’s upcoming birthday party, and surprisingly enough, things were going swimmingly. You offered to be in charge of the planning, but with your classes and all the work you had to get done, Niall reassured you that he’d be able to handle it just fine. The only problem was the fact that Harry was particularly squirmy today. Always glancing towards the staircase that led up to the bedrooms, checking his phone, and leaving for one too many bathroom breaks. 

“Ya gonna stay for more than two minutes?” Niall rolled his eyes playfully, typing something on his laptop. When he asked Harry where he wanted to host the party, Harry told him ‘any ol’ restaurant will do’, and Googling ‘any ol’ restaurant in LA’ was proving to be a little harder than anticipated. 

“I’ll stay for three jus’ cos I like yeh so much.” Harry teased, leaning over to glance at Niall’s screen. “I don’ like tha’ restaurant. The paps always hide in the bushes and it makes me nervous.” 

“Well, we can just ask them t-” 

“Yeah, but like, you should jus’ find another restaurant.” Harry smiled sheepishly, watching as Niall opened up another tab. 

“Harry?” Harry turned his head immediately as you popped up from around the corner. “Mind helpin’ me with something real quick? It’ll only take a second.” 

“That’s what you said last time.” Niall muttered, scowling when Harry smacked his arm lightly before getting up and dusting himself off. 

“You continue googling. I’ll be right back.” 

“Okay, here I am.” Another heavy sigh left Niall’s mouth when Harry appeared ten minutes later. 

“What did Y/N ask you to…” Niall trailed off when he caught sight of Harry’s appearance. Crinkled shirt? Check. Messy hair? Check. And the cherry on the cake had to be the little hickey that was blooming on his jawline. 

“Just helpin’ her make some more cue cards.” Harry cleared his throat, Niall tilting his head. 

“Oh, really? Interesting. You’ve got a little..” Niall gestured to his mouth, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. 


“I just t’ink it’s funny how you’re all of a sudden wearin’ shimmery chapstick. T’e only other person I know who wears t’at is Y/N. And I know for a fact that you and Y/N can get a lot done in ten minutes.” Niall cleared his throat, leaning back against the couch as he crossed his arms. Harry immediately blushed and let out a small laugh, wiping at his lips. 

“I.. uh..” 

“But t’at’s none of my business.” 


gif isn’t mine!

The Surprises of Retirement


Dr Watson remained true to his word and paid me another visit just a few days later.

In his absence, the weather had altered between glorious sunshine and thunderous downpours that had transformed my chamber from a steam room to an ice box. I exaggerate, of course, but it was rather tiresome to drag oneself out of bed to fling the windows open or shut them again based on the whims of the weather. But I digress.

Dr Watson found me on a day that had been largely marked by heavy rainfall. I had not expected him but took great precautions as to my appearance when the knock on the door reverberated through the silence in the cottage.

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Problems In Potions [a Barry Allen AU]

Request: EVIL BARRY HARRY POTTER AU (evil hufflepuff barry and sweetheart slytherin reader)

a/n: omg barry’s such a hufflepuff…..

Barry has this annoying habit of pissing (relatively) everyone at Hogwarts off. Especially his house: Hufflepuff. One bad move in potions class and, boom, down ten points. So, now, he’s decided to sulk in the hallway. The back of his white dress shirt crinkles against the golden stone wall, robes forgotten on the floor next to him.

His yellow, silver and black striped house tie hangs loosely on his chest, letting neck breathe for a moment. His grassy green eyes stare straight ahead, squinting. “If you’re gonna lecture me, don’t waste your breath. I get it; I was out of line, blah blah blah.” he mutters, hearing the footsteps draw closer to him.

You sigh, curling your hands around your robes while you sit cross legged next to him. “You know, for a Hufflepuff, you are quite the troublemaker…” A smirk stretches across your lips, earning a scoff from Barry. You pick up his robes, dusting off the dirt they’ve gathered by laying on the concrete floor.

Troublemaker. That’s what Barry is; a big ball of trouble. “Well, for a Slytherin, you’re…quite the sweetheart.” he seethes, mocking your words. In a flash, he snatches the charcoal robe out of your hands, scowling. You know it isn’t really aimed at you, it’s just…in general. “I hate my house and they hate me right back.” he huffs out a breath of air, “They think I’m another Harry Potter just because my parents were murdered by a powerful wizard, too. Which is bullshit. It’s just a coincidence.” he mumbles, clutching his robes tightly.

Frowning, you grab his hand, feeling him tense at your touch. But he doesn’t pull away, neither do you. “I’m sorry, Barry… I don’t think that.” you hum, resting your chin on his shoulder, “I think you’re Barry Allen: badass Hufflepuff that doesn’t know when to stop.” you giggle, green and silver striped tie scrunching; he chuckles softly, still gazing at his robes. “So…what class were you in?” you ask, fixing his mustard colored tie.

“Potions.” he replies flatly, watching your fingers rest on his collarbone, “Professor Wells is an awful teacher. I don’t understand any of what he’s saying.” he admits, scuffing his black dress shoe against the floor.

Pursing your lips, you stare at the Hufflepuff, turning his head towards you. “I think I can help you, since that’s one of my best classes. It really helps when the head of your house is teaching the subject; extra lessons sometimes.” you beam, booping his upturned nose with your index finger.

He scrunches his nose, swatting your hand away from his pale face. “Thanks Y/N… I wish my house was as nice to me as you are.” Maybe Barry didn’t piss off everyone at Hogwarts…..

Put In Work - M

Min Yoongi 민윤기 - Doctor!AU

Warnings - ballgags, blowjobs, spanking, daddy!centric

Word Count - 3.1k+


Days at the hospital become long and tiring, causing Yoongi to fall into bed after hours of being in the operation room. Sometimes he regrets going to medical school, becoming a heart surgeon. But each time he thinks this, his thoughts are wiped away when a patient comes out alive, heart ready to lead them through many healthy years.

He rarely thinks of himself, only on occasions when he misses your tight grip and feel of you wrapped up with him between the sheets. Usually it comes down to Yoongi’s pleasure over yours, but you’re willing to let Yoongi’s excuses slide as he saves lives all day while you sit around wondering what you want to be.

Sometimes you’ll paint, or write, or just pace the apartment with the radio on its highest volume. Rarely are you interrupted. So when two arms slide around your waist, your first instinct is to scream and stomp on the intruder’s feet until they let you go.

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