faded & blurred

Rose Glow

Originally posted by kaimikachan

Character(s): Reader X Wonho, Minhyuk

Genre: soulmate!au, cheesy floof, smut

Warning(s): possessive!wonho, praise!kink, edging, kindof!exhibitionism(?)

Length: 5.5 k

Summary: Wonho doesn’t like Minhyuk. Never has, never will.

requested by the sweetest @honeyheonie (aka the softest soft to ever soft the planet)

Your mother tells you stories when you’re young, of spring blossoms and fluttering hearts and ticking clocks on your wrists. Of soulmates and the parts of you they complete.

When you first meet your soulmate, your wrist will show a clock that counts down to your first kiss.

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Mating Season [Prince Sidon/Reader][NSFW]

Title: Mating Season
Pairing: Prince Sidon/Reader [you]
Summary: Prince Sidon could have chosen from a number of eligible choices, but he had to have you.

Fanfic Masterpost

a/n: i’ve returned with garbage, because the amount of asks i get for sidon smut are astronomical. so, here y’all be! i’d appreciate if you read the ending a/n as well!


Sidon thought you were irresistible in more ways than one, there weren’t enough appendages on both hands combined to name them all. Time had passed rapidly for you both, though he couldn’t claim to be troubled by the same trivialities that hylian’s faced. He had spent evenings observing as you pushed persistently at your skin; lifting at the temples for several seconds before letting bounce back into place, your expression withering as a malnourished flower would.

He would never understand the standards of outward appearances to which hylian’s held themselves, especially you. You possessed a wisdom far beyond your years, a knowledge well reserved for the oracles and elders who had seen war and peace. Even though your physical appearance had kept pace with your growing wisdom, much like butterfly through it’s stages of metamorphosis, he thought you to be unfathomably splendid.

“Perhaps I am beginning to understand how it feels…” Sidon muttered to himself, chin clasped firmly between his fingers while watching couples parade around him, and others show intrigue in one another.

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lucky number

your first real boyfriend is two inches shorter than you. he smells like mountain dew and hair gel and wears a black and red sweatband around his left wrist. he kisses you in his parents’ garage on the fourth of july with the lights turned off and the hard plastic shell of an xbox controller digging into your spine. your shorts stick to your thighs when you stand up again. his best friend punches him in the shoulder. laughs. calls you “matt’s girl” while you’re watching fireworks, but never actually says your name.

your second boyfriend is older. two years, maybe three; he’s as vague about his birthday as he is about the other girls you’ve seen him talking to. he tells you he was born in switzerland. you buy him an $80 jacket for christmas. he makes jokes about oral sex that you don’t understand until he offers you a practical demonstration. he undoes the clasp on your bra with one hand. you get your first bikini wax. he teaches you how to say “i love you” in german. you meet his parents. after you break up, he shows his friends pictures of you in your underwear. you keep in touch.

your third boyfriend falls in love with you at first sight. he talks to you for hours about nothing; about everything; about what his plans are for your future together. you order a panini on your first date. he always makes his bed before anyone comes over. he uses terms of endearments like they’re easy. like they’re platitudes. like they’re weapons. he lies to you. you lie to yourself. he gives you a tiffany necklace for your eighteenth birthday with his own initials engraved on the attached silver pendant. your friends coo about how romantic he is. he follows you to college. you let him.

your fourth boyfriend is your fifth boyfriend is your sixth boyfriend. they blur together; fade into one long string of mistakes. you hook up with your kickboxing instructor in a grimy bar bathroom. you eat vegetarian pizza in a stranger’s backyard. you feed your roommate’s ball python a frozen mouse. you stop drinking malibu, start wearing lipstick, and have phone sex with someone else’s husband. no one offers you forever. you don’t care. you don’t.

Your seventh boyfriend–

So I wrote a thing

I totally don’t know what to title this but uh maybe give this a read?? I’ve never written newsies stuff before and nobody proofread it so don’t judge too harshly please!

The first time Davey has an attack in front of Jack he runs to hide it. Makes up a stuttered excuse about going to the bathroom and avoids Jacks usual friendly pats on the back just so he won’t notice he’s shaking. They were with Crutchie and Spot and Racetrack in a place that was too crowded, too loud, too much. David had only met Jack a few days earlier, considering he’d just transferred, and he desperately didn’t want the reputation of the ‘panicky scared freak’ that he’d had at his old school.

So when in the middle of a conversation he felt the familiar drumming of his heart and lump rising in his throat David gently pushed Jacks arm off of him. This earned a confused look from the table and a concerned “You okay Dave?” from Jack.

Dave. The lump in Davids throat grew at least two sizes larger and he stumbled out of the seat, glad that it was probably too dark to see the blush taking over his face. “B-bathroom” Silently cursing his stutter he rushed off before anyone could stop him. When the loud chatter of conversation seemed to bleed through the walls of the abandoned restroom it was all David could do to keep from sliding down the wall and crying.

“I 2 3 4 5” Slowly counting and going through his routine breathing exercises David felt his pulse slow and the lump in his throat unknot itself. Taking one last deep breath he walked back out to the group and made up some lame excuse about getting caught up when his mom called him. This led to the boys all teasing him about how ‘sweet’ he was, brushing off his weird behavior as just being David.


The second time he has an attack around Jack it’s during lunch. It was Davids second week at their school, and most of the boys had learned that David was not touchy. Although he was affectionate he showed it through exasperated sighs and sheepish smiles, because touch just wasn’t his thing (giving or receiving).

Jack was the one exception. The way he’d casually place an arm around Daveys shoulders and how he’d always greet him with a hug all made Dave feel safe. Jack was always patient, at first he’d constantly asked permission but within just a few days he and Davey had learned to communicate almost telepathically. And the boys all recognized this and respected it. Davey didn’t like being touched and if you did something he wasn’t comfortable with then you had to deal with a pissed off Jack Kelly.

So when Skittery’s (slightly annoying) cousin Franky sat a little too close to David during lunch it set red flags off in his mind. Choking out laughs and keeping his gaze fixed on Jack and Racetrack who were on his other side David tried to pretend he was fine. Tried to pretend that just the body heat of Franky wasn’t making his hands shake and his heart hammer.

“Ugh Collins is such a dick Davey!” Groaned Jack overdramatically as he chomped down on his pizza. “I mean who assigns a packet over the weekend?!” Scrunching his nose as his friend talked with his mouth full David gave Jack a stern look, smiling when Jack swallowed his food before speaking again. “Over freaking Romeo and Juliet! The most overrated book of all time!”

Across the table Romeo let out an offended scoff, which made them all burst into giggles. David had almost forgotten about The over enthusiastic kid sitting much too close to him until Franky casually draped an arm around Davids shoulders as he was laughing. Nobody else seemed to have noticed until Davids laugh suddenly cut off and he sat rigid.

Racetrack was the first to notice what had made David suddenly so uncomfortable and a fierce glare was sent to Franky. A few others (Romeo, Skittery, and Blink) also sent dirty looks to Franky but he didn’t seem to get the message.

Then Jack noticed, and right underneath the surface he was livid. “Hey Franky” he calmly greeted in a saccharine sweet voice. The mentioned boy leaned over David to hear what Jack had to say, which only made it worse.
Squeezing his eyes shut and hunching his shoulders closer to him David tried to slow his breathing. “How about you let go of Davey here okay Franky?” There was a sickly sweet venom to Jacks voice as he smiled at Franky.

Leaning back into his seat Franky laughed, “Aw, he yours Jack?” The comment itself made Jack nearly boil over but what happened next made the entire table mad.

He squeezed David and pulled him into his side, ruffling his hair. Shooting out of his seat David dashed towards an abandoned hallway, his legs shaking so bad he nearly couldn’t stand.

“He don’t belong to nobody you dick” A Seething Jack shoved Franky’s chair back before running after Dave.

'Not today not here’ David thought frantically. Everything around him faded into a blur as he gasped like a fish out of water, too panicked to even think of his breathing exercises. Slipping down to the floor he tried desperately to think of anything, resorting to tears when it didn’t work.

“Shit Dave”

The discord inside Davids head calmed the tiniest bit as he recognized Jacks voice. But he was acutely aware of the fact that Jack was panicking a little bit too.

“Hey hey just breath okay? Count with me bud”

A barely managed nod enough for Jack and he was surprised when David grabbed one of his hands, squeezing tight. Wasn’t affection the reason for Davids current panic anyways?

“1 2 3”

Squeezing Davids hand Jack sat down across from him, letting out a relieved sigh when his counts were finally repeated.

“1-1 2 3”

They continued counting until Jack felt Davids hands stop shaking and his stutter all but vanished. “I’m sorry Davey, I knew Franky was sitting too close but I figured it wouldn’t get too bad.” The two sat with their back against the lockers, Jacks arm draped across Davids shoulders and David leaning into his side for support.

“Its fine, I get these all the time” Jacks breathing hitched and David winced. 'He thinks you’re a freak, a wimp. He’s gonna leave you like everyone else’

But Jack didn’t leave, he squeezed David just a little bit closer to his side. “Why didn’t you tell me Dave? Is that why you left at dinner the other night?”

And so they spent lunch and their free period discussing Davids anxiety and how Jack could help.


The third time David has an attack around Jack, Jack does everything he can to prevent it.

Several of their friends were in the band and so he’d joined Jack and Crutchie for a football game to see their friends play. David had yet to attend any games because a football game was just about the worst place for somebody with sensory overload issues and a pretty severe anxiety. But Jack promised he’d be with him all night, and so David allowed his best friends to drag him to the game.

“Popcorn Dave?” Crutchie asked, holding it out towards his friend who shook his head. Currently the three sat towards the top of the bleachers because it was less crowded and Jack assured David 'you can see better up here anyways’. Jack and Crutchie sat on either side of him, David leaning into Jack who had an arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders. After a particularly bad call yelling and shouts rippled throughout the audience and David nuzzled into Jacks scarf.

“It’s too loud Jacky” Wincing at the quiet tone of the curly haired boy who was hiding in his scarf Jack nodded.

Pushing Davids hair off of his forehead Jack placed a light affectionate kiss on the exposed patch of skin, which only made David burrow into his scarf more in an attempt to hide his intense blush. “How about I go get you a hat or some earmuffs?” After a second of hesitation David nodded because Jack wouldn’t take longer than five minutes and Crutchie himself had an anxiety problem and knew what to do if an attack happened. “I’ll be right back okay?” Gently Jack shifted David over towards Crutchie, who smiled brightly and held Davids hand to assure him that somebody was still with him.

“Thanks Jack”

Watching Jack walk down the stairs and away from him made Davids heart panic. He knew it wasn’t healthy, this unsafe feeling he got whenever Jack wasn’t around. Pushing it down he instead leaned into Crutchie who jumped a little in surprise because David normally wasn’t comfortable with much more than occasional hand holding.
A moment later he smiled and melted into the affectionate gesture, holding Davids hand just a bit tighter.

“Dave do you even like football?” Sheepishly David shook his head and Crutchie laughed. “Me neither, but Jack sure does have a way of convincing people to do things. Wanna watch Netflix on my phone instead?” With a nod David snuggled even further into Crutchies side.

That’s how Jack found them 10 minutes later when he returned with nachos and a cute red and yellow beanie for David. When he saw his best friend since kindergarten and his new best friend cuddled up on the bleachers and giggling hysterically at something on a phone screen he couldn’t stop the affectionate smile on his face. God he had already known he loved Crutchie, but now Dave comes along with his crystal clear blue eyes and his curly hair and sarcastic comments and random facts. Jack should feel guilty shouldn’t he? After all somebody had once told him it was impossible to actually love 2 people at the same time.

Then again, when did Jack Kelly ever listen to what anybody else said?

The fourth time, Jack’s the one who causes it.

He really hadn’t meant to, honest. What kind of dick would intentionally cause their friend/crush to have an anxiety attack?

A few weeks ago Jack had confessed to Crutchie, babbling about how he was in love with his best friend for what seemed like hours until Crutchie just laughed and pressed his lips against his. Jack thought that once he had Crutchie his love for Davey would go away. Not that he wanted it to but it made him feel guilty.

Little did he know Crutchie felt the same way.

When he’d first heard they were together Davids heart sank. The two people he had slowly fallen in love with were in love with each other. There would probably be no more safe touches, no more protective arms placed around shoulders. No mumbled Daves, and no bright Daveys. Jack and Crutchie had each other…so why would they need him?

And so he drifted. It started with little things like denying requests to hang out, or 'forgetting’ to respond to calls and messages. (Both of them knew Davey didn’t just forget things) And then it turned into avoiding them at halls, sitting next to Skittery who sat on the other side of the table from his usual spot. The last straw was when David completely walked past their table and took a seat on the ground, leaned against the wall.

“Okay that’s it. I gotta see what’s up with him.” Standing up from his seat Jack made his way over to David.

“Jack Kelly do not confront Dave- I can’t believe you!” Skillfully avoiding students Crutchie bounded over to Jack (or at least as close to bounding as one could get when they had to use a crutch) in an attempt to stop him. “Jack you’re going to overwhelm him! Just wait and we can ask him to come over after school or something and ask then!”

Turning to face Crutchie Jack sighed. “But he won’t Crutch. He’s avoiding us and I have to know why” Continuing his speedy approach towards Dave he stopped only when he was almost directly in front of Dave.

Red flag.

Despite the fact that he knew Jack would never actually hurt him David recognized the fact that he was now trapped against the wall. And that was no good. No good no good no no no no no. Swallowing his strawberry David kept his gaze fixed on Jacks shoes. “Y-yes?”

In a tone that came off much harsher than intended Jack asked him, “Why are you avoiding Crutch and I?”

Shaking hands.

Gripping his hands together Davids shoulders tensed up and he scrambled for an answer. How do you tell your best friend that you like both him and his boyfriend? “I-Its nothing”

“Oh so you just decided to be a dick and avoid us because of 'nothing’?” The moment the words came out Jack regretted them. Everybody had problems, and Jacks was not thinking before he spoke. “Shit I’m sorry I didn’t mean that Davey i-i just” kneeling down to Davids level he reached an arm out to pay him and flinched when David shied away, shaking violently.

“Oh now you’ve gone and done it Jack Kelly” Crutchie whispered harshly. Shooting a glare at his boyfriend he plopped onto the floor, fixing his gaze on David. “Hey hey can you count for me Davey? Just repeat after me, 12345”

Breathing shallowly David tried to copy, stutter and getting stuck and growing more and more frustrated until tears shone in his eyes.


He hated to admit it but god Davey had missed the sound of his nickname rolling off Jacks tongue. Missed it so much that just hearing it calmed him down. Missed it so much that he grabbed onto both Jack and Crutchie hands tightly.

Neither said anything but a glance was shared between them that seemed to convey everything they’d wanted to tell each other.

They both loved Davey, and each other. It was messy and different but it was what had happened.

A hesitant but protective arm was wrapped around Daveys shoulders and he nearly cried again, gripping Crutchies hand even tighter when he started to try and move. “I thought you didn’t need me anymore.”

Jack threw Davey an incredulous look and softly kissed his forehead. “We’ll always need you you goof.” Burrowing into his sweater David thought he would combust when Crutchie scooted next to him and placed another kiss on his forehead.

“B-but you guys have each other and I don’t wanna get in the way of your relationship because you guys deserve to be happy and I don’t wanna be an awkward third wheel so-” His rambles were cut off by Jacks lips on his. David 'walking mouth’ Jacobs was speechless as he looked between Crutchie and Jack in panic.

'Jack just kissed me??! In front of his boyfriend??’ When Crutchie leaned over to repeat Jacks actions David was even more confused. “I-I think I missed something here?”
His voice rose at least 2 octaves as he continued to panic.

“Well you see, I think I like you Davey.” The casual way Jack said it made David snort despite his panic.

“But, but Jack you have a boyfriend?”

“Yes I like him too” As if to prove the point Jack kissed Crutchie. For a minute or so David just opened and closed his mouth without making any actual noise. Crutchie had to bite back a laugh, figuring David would be a little offended if he laughed.

After the minute of David gaping like a fish Crutchie spoke up, “I like you too y'know Dave, and Jack. And we have a sneaking suspicion you like us both too.” Both older boys took the blush that crept up Davids neck as a yes. “So we were wondering if you wanted to be a relationship with us?”

At the renewed look of panic on Davids face Jack scrambled to calm him down. “It’s gonna be messy and weird and if you don’t want to then that’s fine. But we really do both like you Dave.” Squeezing his anxious friends shoulders Jack chewed on his lip as he waited for an answer.

“I-I’d like that, I really would.” Smiling shyly at his friends, boyfriends now he supposed, David nodded. “Yeah I think I’ll like that.”

Raspberry Kisses

[Title] Raspberry Kisses
[Genre] Smut
[Member] Seokmin
[Request] “Could I request a smut with DK where you guys are just hanging out in your room, kissing a little and things get heated? 😅🙈” - Anon
[Word Count] 3,320
[A/N] Since the Anon didn’t specify on the heated things, I just thought, hey why not mutual masturbation? It’s so long, omf, sorry guys haha.  Hope you guys enjoy nonetheless ;)

You were never good at making decisions.

Ever since you were young, every option and every choice you deemed had been through countless amounts of strain. Even the tiny, unimportant things made your head spin into an uncontrollable blur. Your indecisiveness captured away precious time and shook you with bottled-up frustration. Impatience and despair always boiled in the pits of your stomach. It seemed like the end of you.

And it didn’t quite help that Seokmin refused to speak.

He loved to tease and draw your desperation out a tad longer without throwing in a needed opinion. And you hated how even though he did so, he’d still get the nerve to wrap you in his arms, where everything would melt away— even you.

It hadn’t been long since the sun began to make its way down the horizon, and it hadn’t been long since you began to feel it. Streaks of vivid oranges and pinks painted the sky, and it’s lights seeped through the thin curtains of your window. The golden rays washed over two sprawled figures; where you lay at the foot of your bed and your boyfriend leaned back against the headboard.

The depths of your core twisted in an jaw-clenching manner, and you felt the temptation to cry aloud deep in your throat as you said for what seemed like the hundredth time:

“What movie should we watch?”

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the-never-ending-one  asked:

Hey there! Could you do a Searon fic with 20 or 24 (or both)?? That would be amazing!

24: slow dancing

A/N: Omg I’m so sorry I got to this so late!! I chose 24 because I’m not too good with describing body parts and massages, hope you don’t mind! :) 

Also, this is the last prompt from the Sweet Affectionate Moments list YAY!!!! :D

The lilt of the soft, slow music in the air was rich, soothing in your ears. The murmur of the crowd gradually faded into the background, as you focused on the relaxing beat of the music playing in the ballroom, your body swaying along to the steady rhythm.

You chuckled at the man whose hand was awkwardly hovering over your waist, the other still suspended in the air. Conflict was written all over his face, not having the slightest idea of what a dance was or what he should do after practically being forced to ask you to dance earlier by his brother and the rest of the RFA. All around you, couples were holding each other, wearing coy smiles on their faces as they swayed along comfortably to the music.

The both of you seemed to be the only awkward pair on the dance floor.

“This was a bad idea,” Saeran grumbled under his breath, releasing his hand from your waist and stepping away from you with his face lowered. He intended to leave before making an even bigger fool of himself in front of you, it seemed.

“Wait, Saeran,” you called, tugging lightly on his shirt. He had on a white long-sleeved shirt with a black vest, coupled with a tie that was pulled down slightly, the top button of his shirt left undone. Two black ring cuffs adorned his sleeve, accentuating the lean muscles beneath whenever he brought his arm up to fix his hair and brush it out of his eye every now and then.

He stopped, turning around to peer at you with an arched brow. “What is it? Don’t you want to get out of here?”

“Well…” True, you had been feeling rather uncomfortable in here just a few minutes ago, before you were found by him and the other RFA members. The RFA party was far more extravagant than you had imagined. The magnificent, twinkling chandeliers on the ceiling, the smooth, shining marble flooring, the smell of perfumes and colognes and the clinking sound of wine glasses were all utterly alien to you.

You still felt a little unsettled each time you felt someone’s gaze on you and your dress that wasn’t nearly fancy enough for a party of this scale – you had been told to dress simply, so you hadn’t been expecting for people of such high statuses to be literally everywhere.

Aside from the Longcat mascot and Saeran, you felt totally out of place here.

Despite that, you didn’t want to leave. Not yet.

“Don’t tell me…” Saeran groaned, eyeing the hesitant look on your face. “You actually want to dance?”

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When Mulder finally stumbles through the door, Scully cradled in his arms, he can see that Byers had immediately jumped into action. Will is wrapped in blankets and curled up on the recliner, his eyes closed and his dark hair sticking straight up. The woodstove is lit, and there’s a pot of water warming on top. He can hear shuffling from upstairs and downstairs. There’s a pile of towels and blankets next to the couch, and he lays her down.

With Scully unconscious it’s impossible to take her clothes off. He grabs scissors from the junk drawer and starts to cut. Beneath the fabric her skin is white and damp and freezing to the touch, but not blue, not black. It reminds him that they weren’t actually out there for very long, no matter that it felt like a thousand years. He dries her off and wraps a towel around her wet hair, then starts piling blankets on top of her. Her breaths are still shallow and shaky, but he thinks they sound better than a few minutes ago. Stronger.

“Wake up,” he says, without meaning to. She doesn’t stir.

He thinks about trying to take her temperature, but what’s the point? There’s no hospital to bring her to.

Frohike bounds up from the basement, more blankets in his arms. “Is she—”

Mulder presses the back of his hand to her cheek. “I don’t understand what happened,” he says gruffly. It’s a lie. He does know. It’s happened before, and he’d just convinced himself that it was over. And Will, too — but he can’t think about that; that’s a problem for later. For when Scully is better. For when she’s well enough to fight with him about it.

Businesslike, Frohike stacks more blankets on top of Scully, and a few more on Will for good measure. He doesn’t stir.

“How’s Will?” Mulder asks.

Frohike shrugs. “We checked his fingers and toes. Frostbite, probably, but it looks mild. He’s fucking cold, though. Byers put some water on so he can have something hot to drink when he wakes up.” He looks suddenly nervous. “And Scully, too.”

“Yeah,” Mulder says, and swallows hard.

At odds with the depth of the night, the house is full of activity, but it all fades to a blur around him. A cup of tea, the low murmur of voices, more blankets. Someone hands him a hot water bottle and he puts it between two of the blankets; someone else asks him a question and he ignores it.

His fingers on the side of her neck, he counts her heartbeats. They’re slower than usual. He’s been falling asleep to their rhythm for a long, long time.

Eventually Skinner tells him they’re taking Will downstairs to sleep it off on a real bed.

“Watch him,” says Mulder, and it comes out harsher than he intends. “Don’t let him…”

“I’ll stay up,” Skinner confirms. “Yell if you need anything.”

And he disappears down the stairs with Frohike. Will is propped up between them, wearing Mulder’s slippers and a pair of flannel pajamas that are about six inches too short.

Mulder stays up, watching Scully. He strips off his shirt and pants and crawls under the blankets, wrapping his arms around her. She is still so cold. When the water bottle cools off — it doesn’t take very long — he heats it up. He feeds the woodstove whenever the fire starts to die down. They never keep it lit all night, but these are unusual circumstances. To say the fucking least.

She’s still breathing. Her heart is still beating. He wants to tell her you’re not allowed to die, but he doesn’t even want to put the idea in her head.

Hours later, Scully shivers.

It’s the first time she’s moved at all since he brought her in. He says her name and she shivers harder.

“Sleeping bags,” she mumbles, and then goes silent again.

He stares at her, worried that he imagined it. “What?”

“’S cold.” Scully burrows down into the blankets, even closer against him. “Mulder.”

He’s not even sure she’s conscious.

“I’m here,” he says. “Wake up, Scully, c'mon…”

“What you said.” Her words slur together; Scully sounds like she’s drunker than she would ever get. “Body heat. But there’s no sleeping bags.”

He rifles through twenty-odd years of memories, trying to figure out what she’s talking about.

“Florida,” she says. Right. The Mothmen, and the bigger mystery: of all the songs in the world, Scully chose that one.

“You’re awake.”

“Told you.” Somehow she manages to sound smug.

Mulder doesn’t mind. He presses his nose into her hair. “I thought you were gonna die,” he rasps, even though it feels like a jinx to say it out loud. “Scully.”

She’s shivering again and he thinks that’s good, that’s what the nurse said after Antarctica, you’re supposed to shiver when you’re hypothermic. She says, “I’m supposed to be immortal.”

“Let’s not test that again, okay?” He tucks the blankets around her.

Her nose is icy against his bare shoulder as she nods. “Okay.”

He reaches down into the blankets to lace his fingers through hers. Just to warm them up. She wiggles them a little, and he thinks that’s another good sign.

“You’re gonna stay up?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he says, and kisses her forehead. After a few minutes her breathing slows and evens out again, and he wonders if she’ll remember any of this in the morning. He mumbles, “Just don’t ask me to sing.”

From under the blanket she says, “I heard that.”

Falls Apart

This was written for @hannahindie and @pinknerdpanda‘s follower milestone challenge! Congrats to both of you lovely ladies :) You two are amazing authors and people - blessed to have you both in my life! 

I chose the song Sincerely Yours by Hit the Lights. I didn’t go with the feel of the song as much as I went with the lyrics, which I bolded throughout the fic. I’m terrible at song challenges - breakin’ all the rules over here. Forgive me.

Characters: Reader, Sam, Dean, Castiel

Warnings: Mild language. Angst. So much angst. I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.

Word Count (including lyrics): 1,764

A/N: Thanks to @wheresthekillswitch for being my letter checker and confirming me in my monsterness. Love you, sole sister of mine ;)

Dean ran his hands through his hair to get rid of as much excess blood as he could before climbing into the driver’s seat and closing the Impala’s door. Sam fell into the passenger seat with a small groan, doing his best to keep as much pressure as he could on the cut that ran along his left side. They were both covered in blood, guts, and dirt. A plethora of cuts, bruises, and scrapes adorned every few inches of their skin.

“I can honestly say that I did not see that one coming,” Dean stated, wincing at the effort it took to even turn the keys in the ignition, “I feel like I’ve been run through a blender set to puree.”

Sam grunted his agreement as he rummaged through the glove box, finally withdrawing his cell phone. He checked the few notifications on the screen. “Hey, Y/N called us.” He clicked the voicemail notification and held his phone to his ear.

“I’m really wishing I was the one with the flu right now,” Dean mumbled. Sam waved a hand to shush him as the message started to play.

Sam! Damn, I was hoping you’d have your phone on you. I’ve been looking some more into the case you guys are on. I don’t think it’s a werewolf. I’m pretty sure you might be looking at a Qarin. Remember that case back in February? Yeah. Call me back if you get this. I hope you guys are ok. Miss you both.

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