i have no words or feelings or lungs

How Do You Paint Oxygen?

Sometimes there is just so much art bubbling inside of me, I feel that there is no possible way I could express all I have to express on this earth plane. The amount that I see & feel is infinite, the world I have created inside my own brain expands into multiple different universes. 

My entire life is a performance art. I observe physical colors transfuse into particles and watch them vibrate into symphonies, each atom a different instrument, matching the tune of my favorite song. I inhale novels into my lungs, and exhale invisible poetry. 

How do you paint oxygen? 

How do you write in a language that hasn’t yet been discovered? 

How do you dance in two dimensions at once?

After the fire,
I sit in the ashes of 
our love.
Your hands
are burned, and 
your mouth 
is frozen. The words
that came out of 
our haze are 
still hanging in
the air. 
We let them hang; 
flow into out bloodstream.
Invade our lungs. 
Sting our eyes. 
“This isn’t working…” is
like a toxic gas. 
I wish the walls would swallow me.

But I have to be here.

“I love you,” I 
almost say. “I love you
more than I have ever loved
anyone.“ 
It feels so trivial. 
So small; insignificant. 
"Things start to die when love
becomes trivial” I 
want to say. But I don’t. 
Silence maintains a little hope. 
“Love was supposed to save us,” the words 
float into the air. 
I can’t help but wonder
“How has it become our 
destruction?”

—  Sue Zhao
Borrowed Time

The series where Harry is mute

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio


Y/n never went back home. Instead, she spends winter break in the confines of Harry’s apartment—wrapped up in between his bedsheets to keep warm.

The usually cold and brutal winter that always made their skin numb is now warm to them—skin always accompanied by one another’s and feeling more than ever before. And with the mix of never ending company and the feel of the music that always seems to be playing in his apartment, they couldn’t have asked for a better way to start off their relationship.

They never do anything extravagant—never do anything that could take time away from one another. It’s in their simplicity do they find a sense of comfort throughout the festive season. They feel happiest in their own little world—away from everything and everyone, just focusing on them being together without any distractions.

With being so consumed by one another, they’ve learned more about each other than ever before—spending most days watching their favorite movies and baking new recipes they found in Harry’s favorite Christmas cookbook and spending the nights cuddled up against one another as Y/n somehow finds new things to talk about.

Each day, they fall in love with each other all over again. It’s as if their hearts unravel and trap each other in—giving them no means of escape, but neither of them want to.

Whenever she spends the night at his apartment, Harry has to spend nearly an hour each morning just to fight her from getting out of bed. It’s become a routine, Harry having to pull her from the edge of the bed so that he can cradle her back in his arms while she giggles and mumbles some excuses he doesn’t have the energy to listen to.

He just really, really, really loves the feel of her first thing in the morning, especially when the brutal feel of the blistering winds finds its way to his apartment. She’s much warmer than usual and her eyes are brighter and always glistened against the sun. Her lips, too—they are always so much fuller somehow that even in his mild awareness, he finds himself kissing them before he finally lets her slip away from the comfort of the sheets.

But this morning—this morning is different.

After a Christmas night filled with passion and inexperienced intimacy, Harry really doesn’t want to let her go. He’d much rather feel her uncovered body up against his all morning—soaking each other up and holding one another until the sun sets into the night.

It just sounds so right, to keep each other near and close after giving each other their last bit of innocence. Everything they had to offer one another was taken and used to make them whole, so that’s how they should be—together and whole for as long as they possibly can.

But when Harry feels Y/n begin to stir her way out of his arms, he knows she has very different plans.

And he’s just not having it.

He whimpers in his slumbered state, pulling her back against his chest with eyes half-lidded and breathing still steady. He’s holding onto her like never before, refusing to feel her side of the bed empty. He needs her, her, her, anywhere and everywhere as long as it’s with him. And despite having every bit of her last night, he hasn’t gotten enough and he needs her more.

She giggles softly against his neck, gingerly kissing the exposed skin as her fingers run along his jaw. She can already feel him falling back asleep from her touch, a content sigh leaving his lips at their closeness.

“Love, I gotta get up. Y’know me, can’t stay in bed once I’m awake.”

He groans as he shakes his head, somehow filling up the smallest of empty spaces between them and tucking his head into her shoulder. His nose is right up against her skin and he can smell her usual scent—vanilla and lavender from her usual body wash but much more filthy than usual.

She giggles again when she feels his bottom lip poke at her shoulder, her fingers reaching to his hair as she combs through it.

“Oh, none of that, H.” She tisks, thumbing the very exaggerated pout on his lips. “I’ll be right downstairs, won’t be going anywhere far.”

He rolls his body off of her, his back hitting against the mattress with a whine. His eyes remain closed but there’s a very noticeable furrow between his brows, and Y/n begins to wonder what he’s so worried about.

She frowns down at him, observing the rise of his goosebumps from the morning cold on his bare chest. It looks empty and lifeless without her head upon it, and though his body is no stranger to her, there’s something about it that seems much more inviting and she yearns to keep it closer than ever.

And she gets it—she gets his exaggerated whining and the worry in his eyes. After everything that happened to them the night before, he can’t leave her—he can't—and that’s exactly what she’s doing to him, even if it’s only a floor away.

Almost as if to reassure him, she goes with the feel of her heart and decides to spend the next couple hours of the freezing morning right beside him.


Harry loves watching Y/n in her most natural hours.

Her chest and elbows are leaning against the surface of the kitchen counter, one hand holding a mug of coffee while the other flips the pages of her favorite poetry book. Her upper body is clad with Harry’s favorite sweatshirt—ending right at the end of her underwear—leaving her legs exposed and on full display for all of Harry to see.

Despite her hair fully knotted and having an overall disheveled look to her, Harry decides that she looks best this way—in a way nobody other than him has gotten the chance to see—as if she was made for his eyes only.

And he has never seen such a beautiful sight in his life as she looks at him with the softest and most delicate of eyes, a small smile resting on her lips at his presence. Every bit of her looks inviting—like a place of comfort Harry could forever shield himself in.

She’s become so much more than his girlfriend—so much more than someone to call his own—she’s become his muse and his home, his haven and everything in between.

“You always look at me with longing even when I’m right here with you.”

He blinks at her, watching as her cheeks flush with pink under the watch of his amused eyes, loving how easily tranced he becomes in her.

She’s never been confident in herself. Ever since she was a little girl, she used her friendliness to somehow distract people from what she truly felt on the inside. She never truly touched base with her insecurities and never wanted to, so she always found ways to push the most damaging thoughts in the back of her head.

But Harry changed everything. He made her feel beautiful and loved in every way possible, she almost doesn’t understand how he could have so much of that love in him—especially for her. From the way he holds her all throughout the night to the small kisses and gestures whenever he has the chance, she feels it everywhere and she almost feels it in herself.

His sheepish smile confirms her statement, knowing fully that there will never be a moment he doesn’t want her, no matter where she is.

He walks slowly over to her, the smile never fading from his lips and the blush creeping back to Y/n’s cheeks as she turns her body to stretch her arms out at him. It’s the smallest moments like this that make them grateful for the kind of love they share—together.

He presses his lips to hers tenderly when he feels her fingers run across his stomach, his own fingers pushing the material of his sweatshirt up towards her breasts so that he can brush against the swell of them.

“Beautiful.” He whispers, quickly returning back to her lips as they softly release a whimper from the detachment.

She tastes so good—a mix of bitter and sweet from her coffee, leaving his mouth wanting more and more with each passing second. And what was supposed to be innocent turned to lust before they knew it—their movements much more haste and impatient.

In the midst of their desperation, Harry pushes her hips further against the edge of the counter, fingers digging into her skin as his mouth parts open with hers. They both moan into one another, completely consumed by the feeling of their relentless hands and feverish kisses.

Her hands are against his stomach, rubbing along his torso when he hitches her legs around his waist, leaving Harry in control of whatever it is that’s unfolding. Her squeal turns into a moan when his hips collide with hers, the friction making her head spin and body yearn for more.

He feels her hands creep toward the waistband of his sweatpants while his hands bundle up the sweatshirt over her breasts so that they’re fully exposed to him—revealing the most delicate parts of her.

And right as his lips attach to the valley of them, the ringing of the telephone breaks them from their moment.

“H—Harry, the phone.” Y/n gasps.

But he shows no sign of stopping when his teeth sink into an already bruised hickie from the night before, leaving her with shaking fingers between his hair and withering from the soreness. And he really can’t stop, because she feels like no other and she’s so addicting in every way possible. He wants her all to himself.

The answering machine almost dissolves into pure background noise for the both of them, too caught up in the moment.

“Hi, Harry, it’s your mum.”

Only five words and Harry feels the air being knocked right out of his lungs—seizing all his movements and thoughts as Y/n is left completely confused and panting upon the kitchen counter.

"I know it’s been a while and a lot has ended quite messy, but your father does miss you and well—we all miss you, Harry. We would really love for you to come over for dinner tonight as a late Christmas celebration. You don’t have to, but we’ll have an extra seat for you. And—uh—I love you so much. I wish you the best. Please call me soon.”

It’s as if the world around him is spinning faster than ever before—his brain overwhelmed with scrambled thoughts and ears ringing from the anxiety.

There would have been nothing to prepare him for this moment. He never thought he’d ever see his father again—much less be invited back over to his house after everything that’s happened. It’s been so long, he genuinely thought it was over—he thought all of the pain and fear was over, but his biggest nightmare is coming to life and he feels sick to his stomach.

His father is why he’s like this—mute and anxious in social situations. If his dad hadn’t repeatedly torn him down for never being good enough—hadn’t made him believe nobody would ever talk to a little shy boy—he would have probably gained the confidence to speak the more he matured.

But because his father shunned him for being shy and never making any friends, Harry was terrified of what people would think of him if he ever did make friends. Because if his own father didn’t love him, how could anybody else?

Y/n notices the tears in his eyes and his shallow breathing, which she’s quick to mend when her hands reach up to his cheeks. They’re hot and flushed, but all for the wrong reasons.

She frowns, lips peppering small kisses along his face in an attempt to bring him back to her. She doesn’t know much—or really anything—about Harry’s family life; all she knows is that she has never seen a picture of them in his house or any validation that he ever truly had one.

But as she catches the glimpse of fear in his eyes and the small quivering of his lips, he knows very well that there must have been something that went wrong. And even if she doesn’t know what it is that he went through, she knows that if he decides to do this or not, she’ll be right there with him.

“You’re scared.” She whispers, thumbs rubbing against his cheeks softly. “What is it you’re afraid of, baby? Talk to me, please.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, his lips pursing together as loose tears fall from his eyes.

He’s never talked about his family problems and because all of this has happened so quickly, his words get trapped in his throat. To genuinely talk about his family and come to terms with his emotions seems all too much for him, especially when it’s hard for him to speak in the first place.

Y/n clicks her tongue while shaking her head softly, wrapping her around his neck as he nests his cheek into her shoulder. His muscles instantly relax in her arms and has a sense of clarity in her comfort, but there’s still an undeniable thumping in his chest that just can’t seem to go away.

“You don’t have to talk about this, love, but maybe this will be good for you. You know, to test the waters with your family. Maybe this could help you in the long run.”

And he wants to believe her—he really, really fucking wants to believe her—but he knows he can’t. Anywhere in his father’s path is detrimental to Harry’s social anxiety and he knows it’ll only make this worse for him in the long run.

“Y/n.” Harry groans, detaching her arms from his neck so that he can stand properly. His teeth are grit and eyes are distant—looking anywhere but her own and he swallows thickly around his words. “There’s a reason I don’t talk to anybody.”

His words are cracked and desperate—like a plea for Y/n to understand that this is different, that there will never be a day he’ll be able to face his problems. There have been too many times he’s found his way back and he always walks away with a damaged heart.

Y/n watches the way his fingers fiddle around one another and how he can’t stand still, it’s like watching the battle in Harry’s head and watching him fall apart from it.

And no matter how much she loves him now—the way he is now, even without much speaking—she doesn’t want to watch him suffer for the rest of his life. He’s the most undeserving man, he deserves the world and she knows he does.

His heart is nothing but pure and damaged—in need of mending and love. It’s the best part of him, really. It’s what brought them together and she feels the need to protect it at all costs.

He doesn’t feel it, though. He doesn’t feel what his heart has to offer and doesn’t see how it makes him so strong. He only sees himself as a ruin—a lost cause with nothing left to fight for, and he doesn’t deserve it. After what he’s been through, she needs him to understand that he is so much more than he thinks he is.

Because he is—he really is—no matter what he believes.

She holds his head in her hands to distract him from his consuming thoughts. His eyes shift in her gaze as he lets out a small breath.

“I just think it’ll be best to try again. I know—I see how hard it is for you to live the way that you do and I want to be here for you through everything. Things could be different this time—things could actually end well and you might be able to push through this. Because I know you, Harry, more than anybody else right now and I know you can push through this.”

She presses her forehead against his with a sigh leaving her lips, her thumbs running along his knuckles.

“And if there is any point you feel uncomfortable or upset, we can walk right out and leave. Just know that I will be there for you no matter what, okay? Just asking for you to try.”

It’s because she sounds so sure of herself that Harry actually agrees to go to the dinner. He knows that if it were a matter of him going alone, he would never even consider it. But knowing she is going to be right by his side—holding his hand through it all—maybe he doesn’t have to be so scared.

Maybe, it’ll actually be different this time.


It’s not different.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, it’s really not any different than he expected it to be.

Upon their arrival, Harry’s mum and sister nearly fainted from seeing him at the front door. They thought their invitation would go dismissed, like the way Harry’s ignored them for the past three years. But looking at him for the first time in what felt like forever, they were nothing short of thrilled.

And to make it even better, he brought a girl. Harry was holding her hand tightly, keeping her tucked right into his side so that he could feel her with every step he took.

Anne and Gemma swore they had never seen something so heartwarming in their life—to the point where tears sprung from their eyes and arms flinging around their bodies. Y/n didn’t even have to introduce herself properly for them to love and approve of her, anybody who gets Harry to open up—in any way possible—is enough for them.

He was calm when it was just the four of them, Harry watching Y/n hit it off with his family so effortlessly. He noticed the fondness in all their eyes and this was how he wanted it to be forever.

But once they sat down for dinner, Harry knew something was about to happen.

His father didn’t acknowledge neither him nor Y/n in the slightest. Instead, he acted as if they weren’t there and only carried conversations with the rest of his family. And Harry wasn’t sure if he preferred it that way or not—wasn’t sure if he’d rather have his father at least notice him and hate him or have his father neglect him.

Y/n was trying to make the best out of the situation and he could tell. She found her way to the conversations even if his father didn’t respond to her, and still remained her perky self while doing so. She seemed unfazed through it all, almost like she didn’t feel the overwhelming amount of tension that surrounded the room.

She does it for him, though. She knew that if she showed just how uncomfortable his father was making her—he’d never be able to survive this dinner. She had to play strong enough for his sake.

But now that dinner has passed by and all that’s left are empty plates of food and mindless mingling, Harry feels nothing short of uncomfortable and misplaced under his father’s glare. It’s as if he’s waiting for Harry to speak out in the conversation, or do much of anything to make his presence known.

Y/n can see the soft shaking of Harry’s head and can feel the sweat on his palms with each passing second—just waiting for the end of the night so that they can go home and be alone at last.

“You know, Y/n, I never thought Harry would have a girlfriend.”

It’s the first time tonight his father spoke to Y/n directly, making the conversation she was having with Gemma come to a pause as she looked over at him with confusion. There’s a small pout on her lips as she tilts her head in question, almost unsure as to what he was implying. He has no expression on his face, only a small scoff and disapproving look in his eyes.

“How so? He’s lovely, any girl would be very lucky to have him. I’m just happy it’s me who does.”

Her fingers squeeze his thigh under the tablecloth; as if to tell him that there’s nothing to worry about. If his father wants to try hard enough to get to Harry, he has to try to get through her, first.

His father grumbles, his eyes shifting away from hers. The tenseness is his body seems to lighten, though, when an almost sadistic laugh falls from his lips—finding whatever he’s thinking quite amusing and entertaining.

“Isn’t it disheartening? Doesn’t it get boring, to be with a little boy who can’t even get his mouth to open? You seem to be a very intelligent, mature lady—I can tell by the way you talk. Don’t you think it’s a man’s purpose to be with somebody like you?”

Harry squeezes his eyes shut, trying to silence the sudden voices in his head and focus on the feel of Y/n’s tightening hand.

All the childhood fights, all the times Harry had crawled underneath his bed during the night to get away from it all, and all the times Harry almost had the guts to speak up for himself only to be shut down from his father are all replaying in Harry’s head.

The anxiety creeps to his bones and in his muscles, straining him of all that’s left of his strength and leaving him with nothing but a shaking body and lack of control. Every part of him that felt alive before all of this is slowly dying at the seems—ready to be ripped out on his father’s account.

In any other situation, Y/n would have kept her mouth shut if it meant getting the support and approval of Harry’s family. But this—the way he’s talking about Harry as if he’s not right next to her, disrespecting him for something beyond his control is just not okay with her.

She’d rather stand up for the man she loves and believes in instead of watching him suffer in silence—the way his mum and sister are—with fear.

“Harry may not be a man of many words, but he’s the best thing I’ve got. There is so much more to him than his voice. There is so much more to him than you will ever know because you decided to be a shit father and give up on him without giving him a chance. He holds so much more potential than you could ever see, and that’s what’s wrong here. Harry’s not the problem, him being mute is not the problem, it’s you. Because why is it that everybody else can accept him and love him for who he is besides you?!”

The aftermath of her words silences everything around them. Nobody moves, nobody dares makes a sound besides their harsh breathing, because there could be something that makes either one of them snap and nobody wants to be the one to do so.

Y/n’s hands are in fists upon the table, eyes locked with his in fury and jaw so tight she almost doesn’t even look like herself. She’s turned into an entirely different woman with just the thought of Harry getting into harm’s way.

And although Harry really wants to show her appreciation for her words, he’s too panicked that he’s going to die from not being able to fucking breathe.

The silence is overwhelming, but Y/n is not giving up on him—on Harry. He had to live through this for far too long and she’s not allowing it anymore. He deserves better than this treatment—deserves better than to be looked down upon by somebody who’s supposed to be his provider.

“He’s the best thing you’ve got, yeah?”

His father is playing with his bottom lip, eyes narrowed and eyes in the same unpleasant manner as before. His voice is softer, though, more understanding than before and they both don’t know what to expect out of the conversation.

Y/n nods without hesitation, “He is.”

He watches as Y/n looks more determined and positive as ever, not a doubt or a trace of a lie in her features.

She means it—with her whole heart—she means it and she’ll never let anybody make her go back on her word. And she doesn’t have to say it twice, because Harry knows she’s genuine when she says it.

“You must have a very pathetic life, then.”

Harry’s eyes don’t move from their trance on the table—his body doesn’t make a move under his words. This is just how it always ends, and he just don’t know why he still fucking comes back here every goddamn time.

His throat is tight and his eyes are filled with tears. His skin is full of sweat and he swears his heart is beating much faster than it should. And even though he’s experienced this all before, knowing Y/n is being belittled by his father too makes it worse.

"We’re done here.” Y/n says sternly, grabbing ahold of Harry’s hand.

Y/n could have stood up for Harry much more, but she knew that if she started an even bigger brawl than what was already unfolding, Harry wouldn’t have been able to handle it.

He’s already drained of color and crying silently within his lost mind, and she’s absolutely terrified for his health.

She’s nearly dragging him out the door, Harry occasionally tripping over his own feet as he’s being drowned with the voices and the thumping in his chest. The world around him seems to be drowning and he can’t keep up with it all.

He just can’t.

“You can’t only keep her around because she’s the only one that’ll fight your battles for you, Harry! It’s only a matter of time before she realizes that you have nothing to offer her! You can’t give her anything with the way you are. You’re worthless!”

Before he could spew any more insults in Harry’s way, Y/n shuts the door in his face.


Harry knows his father was right.

In the long run, he doesn’t have much to offer her. He can’t be the boyfriend that she deserves to have.

He can’t be the boyfriend that can remind her of how much she’s loved or cared for. He can’t be the boyfriend to sing her to sleep whenever she can’t, or be the boyfriend to say his vows at their wedding for all to hear. He can’t be the boyfriend that—God forbid something were to happen to her—can ask for somebody to help her, or be the boyfriend to sway her family’s heart.

He can’t be anything to her besides somebody that she can sleep with at night and wake up to in the morning. Because that’s all it will be, and she’ll get so tired of being the one to be the only one talking to the other.

He’s nothing in her life, and that’s exactly why he can’t look at her anymore.

“Can you please just say something to me, Harry? I need to know why you’re upset with me or else we can never work through this.”

But how can they work through this when he can’t talk to her the way she wants him to?

Instead of answering right away, Harry presses on the gas pedal even harder than before. In the mix of all his emotions—anger, frustration, sad, and absolutely terrified—the only proper thought that can retain in Harry’s mind is dropping Y/n back to her apartment so that she doesn’t have to keep torturing herself with him.

The longer he feels her presence next to him, the more he realizes that he can’t love her the way she deserves to be loved—even if he really, really, really does love her with every ounce of his being.

“It was only—“ He swallows thickly, “It was only a matter of time before this was going to happen, Y/n.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she turns her head over to Harry, who has his lips pursed in a straight line while his eyes remain on the road.

There’s something different in him, now—something unreadable in his expressions and it’s something she’s never seen before. He seems broken somehow, like a man who’s been damaged one too many times that he’s become numb—emotionless with nothing left to feel.

“Before what was going to happen, Harry?”

She has an idea about what his words meant, but she doesn’t want to believe it. Not coming from him—not coming from the man who’s shown her nothing but how much love he has for her. There’s no way he could be doing this to her. He can’t do this to her.

“We were never going to last, Y/n. This was over long ago, we’re just on borrowed time.”

Borrowed time.

The sound of it leaves an unusually disturbing churn in Y/n’s stomach and a foul taste in her mouth. She feels as though Harry is taking his own hand and digging into Y/n’s chest, just so that he can grab ahold of Y/n’s heart and rip it to shreds himself.

Her hand subconsciously grabs onto the handle of the car door, eyes glistening with tears and lungs not daring to breathe. The air—instead of it being filled with their love—is now thicker and colder than ever.

She’s never been so confused—so lead on and so scared as to what is happening to them. They were supposed to make this last, they were supposed to make each other happy for the rest of their lives. He promised her he would, too—promised her nothing but love and trust in him.

But what is happening to them?

“How long have you thought that?”

She was tentative to ask, but she just has to know. She has to know if she’s done everything she’s done for nothing or if it actually held some sort of purpose at the time.

She’s terrified beyond words to find out the answer.

“Before or after you decided to sleep with me?”

Harry doesn’t want to make it seem like he never wanted this—never wanted her. He doesn’t want to make her think that he went through all that he did with her just to expect them to break up so soon. Because he didn’t, he never did. He would have never let her give him her virginity if he knew all of this was going to happen.

He loves her too much to do that to her, but also loves her enough to set her free.

So he decides to not answer her because not saying anything at all is easier for him than saying something he doesn’t mean. And he knows he will if it means letting her go and letting her move onto bigger and better things.

And it’s in his silence and twitch of his eyes does she find his answer.

“So you didn’t mean what you said last night. That we fit perfectly—that it’s like we’re meant to be? Or were they just words to you?”

A sob rips from inside of her when he still gives her nothing. She has never felt so hurt before—has never felt so betrayed. And suddenly, her skin feels dirty—sickened by what he’s done to her and how she could have been so stupid as to let it happen.

She feels it now, too. She feels the way his hands touched her that night, the way his lips kissed her that night, the way his hips rutted against hers and she feels so fucking filthy—used and used and used just for his own personal gain.

“Stop the car.”

It’s a weak demand, but Harry is pained to hear it. He has to hold himself back from comforting her and saying how terribly sorry he is for lying to her the way he is. But it’s just easier this way.

“I said stop the fucking car, Harry!”

Her yelling makes him flinch, and without hesitation makes him pull over to the side of the road. And the second he does so, he knows he shouldn’t have because he’d never be able to live with himself if he let Y/n walk in the cold alone, especially at night.

And right as he’s about to turn back, the sound of her hysteria makes his stop everything he’s doing. Her sobs are relentless in her hands and the thickest of tears fall from Harry’s eyes when he looks at the damage he’s done.

She looks helpless and utterly destroyed—he would have never thought of doing this to her if he’d known this is what would come out of it.

His heart is breaking at the sight of her like this.

As if on instinct, Harry reaches his hand over to her shoulder in an attempt to keep her calm. And even when they’re so close, they have never felt more emotionally distant than they do right now.

“No! Don’t touch me! Don’t you ever touch me again!”

She isn’t sure if she means it or not, but the devastating look Harry gives her at her words proves that he knows she did.

The second his touch leaves hers, he feels them falling apart.

It really is over now.

She’s never felt more pathetic and humiliated in her life. Everything she thought was so real ended up being one of the biggest lies she’s ever lived. He had her fooled for months now and she had not a single clue—but she guesses that’s what happens when she falls in love too quickly.

She feels easy.

She swallows her cries as she opens the car door, not knowing where the hell she is or where the hell she’s going, but knowing that no matter where she ends up, it’ll be much better than being with him. 

“I hate you. I never want to see you again, not after this. Not after all that you’ve done to me.”

Harry’s eyes widen at her words, mouth falling open and a gasp falling from his lips. The reality of her words hits him with so much force that he genuinely feels every last bit of him fall apart.

And it’s when she walks away from him—from his life—that he breaks.

He chokes out a sob as his fingers grip the steering wheel, eyes as wide as ever and mouth not daring to shut.

Everything hurts. Every bone in his body feels like it’s breaking and every muscle feels like they’re tearing apart. It hurts so fucking much and Harry can’t stop crying, throwing his head back against the car seat as his hand hits the steering wheel in the midst of his hysteria.

She hates him.

But it’s better this way.

Hang on To That Feeling

MASTERLIST

A/N: This is a planned post. I’m going to put a trigger warning on this just in case. This one is a bit different, so feedback would be lovely. 

Word count: 3,278

Originally posted by your-local-killjoy


”Hey Brian, I don’t have much time. What is it?” I asked, struggling holding the phone to my ear using only my left shoulder. 

My fingers moved across the keyboard on the computer without my eyes gazing down once as I continued to type. 

Multitasking had never been my thing and talking on the phone while typing in corrections for the next meeting at work, wasn’t really working out for me. 

“It’s Shawn” he stuttered and then the air in my lungs what punched out entirely. 

Keep reading

my name is BABY and you lean out of your car and spit at my feet it lands in a puddle in front of me and i am thirteen and in a suburban neighborhood on the way home from school and i gag and run with my backpack banging like the echo of your words against my back like you are chasing me all the way home

my name is SWEETIE and i am fifteen in the city with my friends for the first time and we get a little lost and you follow us for a full block you name my friends HONEY and DARLING and WHY THE FUCK WON’T YOU TALK TO ME

my name is NICE ASS and it’s two in the afternoon and i still feel my heart slam against my ribs because i am under a hundred and fifty pounds and i have weak lungs and weaker fists and while you saunter down the steps, swinging the beer bottle in your fist, my father who is walking behind me shouts, “she’s seventeen, you dipshit” and maybe i’m near my family but i don’t feel safe until we’re home again

my name is JAILBAIT and my friend is laughing and we just graduated high school and we feel like we are on the brink of something beautiful and terrifying and she is in heels and about to throw up and you name her DRUNK ENOUGH and i have to physically drag you off and when we go home she cries for four hours because a night that should have been just teenage fun almost resulted in the end of her trust of humans

my name is LOOK AT THOSE TITS and we are on a college campus and the boy i am with holds onto my waist just a little tighter while you drive up next to me. you name him THUG and throw a bottle at his forehead. i can’t stop shaking until long after it’s over. he says “it happens,” and i say, “it shouldn’t.”

my name is DAMN GIRL and we are walking down the street. there are ten of you and two of us and you snap a picture when you think we’re not looking. you tell us to either come inside or you’ll fuck us on the street. you all laugh like this is funny. this is compliment. this is just something boys do to get ladies.

my name is LITTLE LADY, my name is FINE MISS, my name is FUCK YOU AND FUCK YOUR FRIENDS, my name is LOOK ME IN THE FACE, my name is STOP FROWNING, my name is SMILE, my name is WHY DID YOU EVEN GLANCE AT HIM YOU WERE ASKING FOR IT, my name is THIS IS A COMPLIMENT so i looked it up according to Oxford that’s “a polite expression of praise or admiration” i think you’ve got the definitions mixed up

my name is PRETTY THING, my name takes nice words and make them into bullet wounds my name is NICE BODY and no girl i know has dated a man who catcalled her, my name is GREAT RACK and it turns out that if you shout things at a stranger, they sound like knives more than flowers, my name is WOMEN LIKE YOU NEVER KNOW THEIR PLACE and every single “nice” thing you say to a woman is something you’d never utter to another man because you know that it’s derogatory, my name is PRINCESS and A REASON TO GET PUT IN PRISON and if another man spoke to your mother sister girlfriend like that, you’d kill him

my name is SEXY and every time i hear someone raising their voice i am thirteen again and i don’t know who you are and i’m running home with a weight on my shoulders and your words like a slap to my spine and your laughter like a hanging, i am scared and alone and suddenly so small,

and compliments are supposed to make me feel good not afraid for my life, compliments are a way of saying “i care and i appreciate you and i thought you should know it,” and if you really meant it as a compliment, you’d care about how i would take it - but you don’t mean it like that, you mean it to show off, you mean it to make us object, you mean it to shove our names into your back pocket so you can tell your friends “i saw the HOTTEST LITTLE THING yesterday” and they can groan about how we just walked away because you don’t see us go home with keys in our fists and all the lights on and we keep 911 dialed just in case and we triple-check our locks and we don’t fall asleep at all because your compliment knocked us over and took who we are

if we are all saying “it doesn’t sound like a compliment, it sounds like a threat,” if you really wanted to make us feel good - wouldn’t you stop doing it?

—  COMPLIMENT =/= CATCALL // r.i.d

of course kara and maggie will get there in time, but not before she passes out in that tank. so alex is gonna have to come to terms with the fact that she’s going to die. maybe the water is at her waist and she’s still sure they’ll come in time. she’s talking to them through the video feed and trying to keep kara from going off the rails. passing along any helpful information for j'onn. and then the water is at her neck and her feet barely touch the ground and she’s telling maggie she’s okay. her heart is racing a little faster and she’s trying to use her pants to slow the flow of water. but then it’s rising above her head and she has to tread to stay afloat. she realizes there’s only a few inches of air left and no one is on the other side of the video feed. they’re searching for her she knows, but now she doesn’t think they’ll make it. she double, triple checks to make sure there’s nothing else she can do. she wraps her belt around her hand and takes a deep breath the moment the water reaches the ceiling. she pounds on the glass, a last ditch effort fueled by anger and fear of the inevitable. she feels herself getting lightheaded, and thinks of kara. she feels guilty because kara has already lost so much, and alex promised she would always be there. she knows this could break her, that she’ll never be able to forgive herself for not getting to alex in time. but alex doesn’t blame her, she just hopes she’ll move on one day. the water is still, her chest aches and a darkness is clouding her vision. so she closes her eyes, and sees maggie’s face. she hopes maggie isn’t the one to find her, hopes she doesn’t have to see her like that. and she regrets the words she left unsaid between them. she knows she’s fading, can feel her lungs giving out, but she feels calm. maybe this will break kara, maybe maggie will never move on. but she knows they’ll take care of each other. they’re safe, and they’ll remember her.

2

Ghost, I see you standing there,
Don’t turn away, I want you to stay,
Ghost, what’s your name?

Why so surprised? I’m interested…
You’re just a soul that blends into the crowd,
I hear you so loud no one else hears a sound,
You reach out your hand no one else feels a thing,
And I’m just a stranger who could be a friend…

You could have been so great,
I won’t let you slip away,
Is there any hope for us left,
Even a Ghost needs a friend…
You could have been someone,
But you let them into your head,
I want you to know this instead,
That I see the light in your chest…


Ghost, Where you from?
I can take you away, so far away,
Ghost, I’ll make sure they all see,
The kind of man, that you can be…
Open your lungs & inhale my words,
I see in your eyes a reflection of hurt,
The book in your mind hasn’t come to an end,
There’s always a page, that hasn’t been read…


Your heart, it beats, forever, forever, we see,
I will believe, that there’s a Ghost in me…

Your lungs they breathe, forever, forever, we see,
I will believe…

Jacob Lee - Ghost

——

A really fast Marco. I can´t draw the backside of people, even with reference :( But I have want to can do that! ~_~ Practice practice practice… AAAND practice :O~

I want to cry and scream until my lungs hurt or I run out of tears. I want to throw things until they break and punch walls until I can no longer feel my hands. I want to kick down my door or throw myself onto the floor until my body stops shaking. I have so many pent up emotions, anger, hurt, sadness, betrayal. I want to hurt everything because everything is hurting me.
—  but all i’m going to do is pretend that everything is fine ( 11:15 )
Forbidden Love | Pt. 7

▷ Jimin Angst

❥ “I think about you a little more than I should..”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Epilogue

Originally posted by bangtannoonas


“I must say, your wife is pretty good in bed too, my dear friend.”

Frozen, you stared at your husband’s smirking face. Did he feel the same way when he found out that his wife and his best friend have a relationship they shouldn’t actually have?
Was he also disappointed in you like you were in him right now?

The second you felt Jimin lunging forward towards Taehyung, you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, turned him to yourself and whispered. “Don’t..”

Looking into his angry eyes, you tried to ignore what your husband was saying and focused on calming Jimin down by stroking his cheeks gently.

Taehyung, on the other hand, was enjoying the way he was irking Jimin with his stinging words. “What’s wrong, Jimin? Are you angry? You feel uncomfortable, right? Now imagine how I felt whenever I saw my own wife stepping into the hotel room with a smile plastered on her face! Imagine how I felt when I knew that my best friend’s hands were touching my wife’s body!”

Jimin started taking deep breaths and closed his eyes, trying to control his anger. You placed your hands on his ears and leaned your forehead on his. “Don’t listen to him.. Please, let’s just go from here..”

Hearing Taehyung’s voice again, you copied the way Jimin closed his eyes and tried to think about something else.

“Oh, and Y/N. My dear wife. Let me break it to you. I never loved you. Everything was fake, you know. I never wanted to marry you. But you see, money controls everything in this world. And marrying you just happened to be the perfect opportunity to get a hold of that money-”

Just before Taehyung could end his sentence, Jimin yanked your hands away and lunged forward to him, punching his face countlessly without taking a breath.

A loud shriek left your mouth and with that, you felt a sharp pain in your belly.
Bending forward a little bit, you placed your hand on the spot that hurt uncontrollably and gasped loudly when you felt something dripping down your thighs.

The moment you realized what it was, you started sobbing loudly. “J-Jimin!”

Not hearing your shaky voice, Jimin still punched your husband in the face. “J-Jimin, the baby! B-Blood!”

When Jimin heard your shrieking, he turned his head towards you and found you sitting on the ground, hands shaking uncontrollably.

Letting go of his best friend, he run towards you and looked at your bloody hands. “Y-Y/N what’s wrong?! Y/N?!”

Taehyung, on the other hand, stood there frozen with his bruised face, trying to understand what you were saying. “B-Baby? W-What do you mea- H-How?”

Jimin cupped your cheeks with his now bloody hands. “No! Y/N, open your eyes! No! Y/N, please, open your eyes!”

Turning his head to Taehyung, he yelled desperately at him. “Call the ambulance! Do something, damn it!”

Still shocked, Taehyung mumbled to himself. “This can’t be right, this can’t be right. The doctor said- H-How?!”

“Taehyung, stop mumbling and do something!”

“Damn it, Jimin! Y/N can’t get pregnant!”

“Nothing I do is ever good enough.” part.3 Ending

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

Genre: Angst

Words: 2,890

*WARNING* - The following content can be triggering. With mentions of depression etc. Read at your own risk as this chapter is quite ‘dark’, and I don’t want to upset anyone.

[part.1] [part.2] [part.3 ending]


Originally posted by bwibelle

Keep reading

Every Second of Everyday (Dan Howell x Reader)

Originally posted by shinyphan

Hey guys! I’m finally on break and finals are over! (thank lord jesus) so now I will be posting a lot more than I have been so I hope you enjoy and happy holidays!

xxx Megan

——————————————————————————————-

Dan’s POV


 I miss her every second of everyday. I can’t help but wonder what she is doing and most nights I end up punching a pillow or screaming at the top of my lungs thinking about how I treated her. Thinking about how she left one night in tears. Thinking about the disgusting words that left my mouth that I would constantly throw her way. Guilt couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling that was devouring me when I thought about the fear in her eyes every time we were argue. 

 Y/N had left 2 years ago. I could never blame her though. I treated her with such disgrace and constantly regret everything I did to her. At first we were fine, an average happy couple, but then my career exploded and stress was running my life. And unfortunately I would take out all my stress and anger on her. Every night we bickered about something for a good 3 months. Then the bickering formed into top of the lungs screaming at each other until one of us ended in tear or had lost the will to fight anymore. The worst part is she was the one who stopped almost every single time. She was the one trying to desperately fix us and put us back together. And me being the dick I was just decided to ignore her and push her even farther. The night I came home and saw our bedroom only filled with my stuff didn’t surprise me at all. Hell I wasn’t even upset. That was until about a month later where I found the letter in her old underwear drawer.

 Dan,

 I bet you will either throw this in the bin, set it on fire or not even bother to read it but yet here I am writing it anyway. I’m tired. Dan I’m so tired of you complaining about shit and not even realize that the most important thing was broken. Dan Howell I love you so much and I feel like I always will but you are not willing to fight for the most valuable thing in my life. Us. If you’re not going to try to fight then I guess I should just give up too. I know it’s a shitty thing to just pack up and leave but I was already bawling writing this and I have to leave. If I talk to you in person you will make me stay and I can’t keep doing this. We’re broken. I’m broken. I’m done and so is our relationship. I can’t say I wouldn’t miss you holding me or kissing me or even looking at me cause we both know I’d be lying but I am doing this for you. You’re obviously caught up in work right now and I know how much stress and frustration you have bottled up and I know I’m just an obstacle in the way. I love you so much baby and I hope you have a good life without me getting in the way.

xxx Y/n

 I punched a hole in my wall that day. Anger filled my veins at the thought of her crying over an asshole like me, making her think she was justing getting in the way of my life. I loved her with everything I had and still do and yet I left her feeling broken and worthless. I miss her every second of every day. 

 I was currently laying in my bed, alone, staring at a picture of a beautiful couple. It was a tall, dark haired boy smiling down at a perfect girl with y/h/c. He gazed at her lovingly as her eyes were squeezed shut with a wide opened mouth on her face laughing at a dorky joke the boy had tolded her moments before. This was my favorite picture of us. We both looked so innocent and in love. So happy. My thoughts were interrupted as there was knock on my bedroom door.

 “Dan?” I heard Phil questioned on the other side of the door.

 “Yes?” I spoke weakly as I heard the door creak slightly. I heard a sigh escape his lips ashe walked over to me removing the photo from my hands.

 “Still thinking about y/n?” He spoke quietly as I nodded slightly. He frowned slightly looking at the picture shaking his head slightly. Y/n and Phil were so close when we were dating. Besides me she would tell Phil everything but since the letter neither of us had seen her. 2 years she had walked out of our lives and yet both of us remember it like it was just yesterday. Phil shook his head setting the frame down as he gave me a small smile. “Wanna go to the store with me? Get your head off things?” Nothing could make me stop thinking about her. 

 “Sure Phil.” I smiled slightly as I sat up from the bed.



Your POV


 I strolled down aisle 3 searching for eggs. pushing my cart slowly.  My eyes scanned as I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I grabbed it quickly answering the phone call, not glancing at the caller ID already knowing who was calling. 

 “Hi honey.” I spoke still looking for the eggs.

 “WHERE ARE YOU?” His phone boomed through the phone causing me to wince slightly

 “A-at the store. We ran out of eggs and the recipe calls for 2…”

 “You knew all my colleagues were coming over at 7 and I told you to have dinner ready by then!” Ryan’s voice was demanding and loud as I reached down finally finding a carton of eggs.

 “All of it’s done except for the cake you specifically asked for!” I spoke harshly into the phone setting the cartons in the cart.

 “Don’t you dare use that tone with me young lady.” He hushed into the phone causing me to roll my eyes.

 “Okay Dad I’m gonna go now see you at home.” I hung up before he could say anything else. Ryan was my fiance, a well paid, intelligent doctor who thinks he is better than anyone who is younger or earns less money than him. Me being 2 years younger and a mediocre photographer makes him feel twice as powerful towards me. We had been dating for a year and a half and to say we weren’t in love with each other is an understatement. The only reason we were getting married was because his parents loved me and told him to “claim me”. Being the suck up he is of course he proposed. And me being the most awkward person just happened to say yes. I was so busy trying to place my phone back in my pocket I didn’t realize I was walking I ran face first into someone’s chest.

 “Sorry about that love.” A thick british accent spoke causing my breath to hitch. I’d know that voice anywhere. 

 I lifted my head up slightly to look at the stranger’s face as I met a pair of two familiar brown eyes.

 “D-Dan?”



Dan’s POV



 “D-Dan?” Her voice squeaked out causing me to freeze. It was her. Here. RIght in front of me.

 “Y-n?” She gave me a polite smile as she looked down at her feet, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, biting her lip, like she always did when she was nervous. I just wanted to pull her lip from her teeth and kiss her. But I’ll I could do was shuffle awkwardly and place my hands in my pockets.

 “H-how you been?” She asked quietly as her beautiful y/e/c eyes met mine once again.

 “I’ve been better…” I gulped as I saw a streak of guilt fill her eyes. “How about you? How are your photos doing?” She smiled slightly as she nodded slightly.

 “I finally got a job. Somebody saw one of the pictures and fell in love with it so they asked me to join their company.” I grinned at her happily. She had always been struggling trying to get her dream job but I had always told her she could do it. That was until all we did was fight…

 “See! I told you you could do it!” I spoke happily causing her to giggle. Oh how I had missed that sound. “What picture was it?” I saw her face freeze before she whispered 

 “The one of you and I…” I opened my mouth to speak when I heard another voice chime in.

 “Dan I found the… y/n?!” I heard y/n squeal as I saw her jump into Phil’s arms

 “Philly!” 

 I felt a pain in my heart as I watched them hug before she pulled away. Phil looked at her gleaming as he suddenly noticed something that I hadn’t.

 “Are you engaged…?” My eyes immediately darted to her left ring finger where a sparkling diamond ring sat. No. I thought to myself. She can’t be. That should be MY engagment for her. I felt my heart physically break as nausea took over my stomach as I saw her nod slowly. She looked down at her finger before looking up to meet Phil’s gaze again. I felt my eyes become glossy as I looked down at my shoes rapidly blinking trying to keep from crying. Phil seemed to notice my pain as he quickly spoke up. 

 “Congratulations! Well Dan and I should be headed out. We have a bunch of editing to do tonight and we have to watch some new anime episodes as such.” I looked up to see y/n gazing at me sadly as she nodded understandingly. She pulled Phil into another tight hug before turning to me and opening her arms slightly. I wrapped my arms around her petite figure as she hugged me tightly. Her vanilla perfume filled my nostrils as she squeezed me tightly. She pulled away slightly before waving a small wave smiling a little. 

 “Bye guys.” Her sweet voice filled my ears one last time before I saw her turn and continue walking the opposite way. I felt a small tear fall from my eye as Phil placed a hand on my shoulder squeezing in reassurance. 

 “I’m sorry Dan….” He spoke softly causing me to shake my head and wipe my tears.

 “Don’t be…” I spoke, “I’m the one who left her go…”



Your POV


 The radio quietly played in the background as I drove to Ryan and I’s apartment. My mind screaming Dan’s name over and over again. I had never gotten over him and the disappointment in his eyes when finding out I was engaged broke my heart. As I pulled into the parking lot of the apartments I felt my mind become cloudy when I tried to think about why I was with Ryan and not Dan. Dan and I had so much in common while Ryan and I were polar opposites. Ryan didn’t have the sense of humor like Dan did. Ryan didn’t care for me like Dan did. And even though all Dan and I did was fight and bicker, at the end of the day, I didn’t love Ryan the way I loved Dan. I carried the bags of ingredients up to the apartment where I opened the door to reveal multiple doctors and nurses filling up the living room. Sophisticated conversations were being spoken as laughter filled the room. I dropped the bags on the table causing a few to glance over at me and Ryan to notice my arrival.

 “Took you long another! Everyone I would like to introduce you to my friend y/n!” I stared at him blankly

 “Fiance.” I spoke angrily only causing Ryan to roll his eyes and nod softly before grunting out 

 “Yes… my future wife.” I scoffed before turning back to unload the bags when something caught my eye. The walls were empty. Nothing was hung or displayed on any wall of the house,

 “Ryan!” I spoke loudly over the voices making everyone go silent and turn their attention towards me once again.  

 “What?!” He spoke harshly, obviously annoyed by me interrupting his company for a second time.

 “Where did my pictures go?”

 “What pictures?”  

 “Oh I don’t know THE ONES THAT I TAKE FOR MY FUCKING JOB THAT WERE HANGING ON THE WALLS EARLIER!”

 A snotty brunette then piped up.

 “Job? Ryan I thought you said she was a lawyer not a picture taker.”

 “Photographer.” I gritted my teeth trying to calm my anger before turning my attention back to Ryan. “First you don’t want to announce me as your fiance and now you’re embarrassed by my job?!” I shrieked angrily as Ryan just chuckled. 

 “Y/n, I have a very important job and so do all these people. I didn’t feel telling them about your hobbies.” I felt my blood boil as he spoke.

 “Well you know what. I’m sorry I didn’t graduate from a fancy college with a perfect GPA. I’m sorry I don’t make as much money as all of your “perfect” friends but I’m not fucking sorry for who I am or what I enjoy doing. I like my “unimportant” job thank you and I know lots of people who support me.”

 “Oh yeah like who?” 

 “Like Dan…” 

 “Seriously y/n?! You’re bringing up that loser again! He doesn’t do anything either. Worthless piece of….”

 “Don’t you dare finish that sentence Ryan…” I spoke in a low, demanding voice. “Plus I know one thing Dan has that you will never EVER get.”

 “Oh yeah what’s that?”

 I looked down at my ring before sliding it off my finger and slamming it on the table “My heart.”

 “Y/n you’re gonna regret this…” I shook my head staring at him dead in the eye

 “Actually this is the best decision I’ve ever made. Have fun at your fucking party Ryan.” I pushed through the crowd grabbing my keys and open the door as I hear Ryan call from behind me.

 “You walked out that door y/n you can never come back. Do you hear me?! You can just send someone to get all your shit.” I stopped dead in my tracks before calling back.

 “Gigi will be here tomorrow to pick it up.” As I walked out slamming the door. I quickly rushed down the stairs as I reached my car hopping in and rushing down the street driving to the first place that popped into my head…



Dan’s POV


 “Phil make some popcorn!” I shouted from the living room as I searched through the TV for the episode we were gonna watch when I was interrupted by a knock at the door. Who would be delivering something at this hour I thought as I slowly stood up and walked down the stairs. I reached the door unlocking it slowly to be met with a petite girl. Tears filled her y/e/c eyes as her y/h/c hair was tangled slightly. I opened my mouth slightly as I stared at her standing at my door. I never thought I would something as beautiful as this moment. Even with her ratty hair and her makeup slightly smudged under her eyes she still managed to be the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. I felt a smirk creep on my lips before I let out one of my remarks trying to lighten the mood.

 “Long time no see.” She giggled under her breath before I heard her mumble.

 “God I’ve missed you.” Before I could respond I felt her grab my shirt and tug me toward her. I felt her moist lips connected with my slightly chapped lips as the taste of her cherry chapstick invade my mouth. My hands found her waist as I tugged her inside with my closing the door by pushing her back against it. I tugged on her bottom lip as I pulled away smiling. She giggled resting her forehead on mine as I whispered.

 “I thought you were engaged?”

 “I was.” I grinned before reconnecting our lips

 I missed her every second of everyday. That was until she was mine again. I ended up marrying that girl. To ensure, that I wouldn’t have to miss her anymore.

can you believe that will byers truly exist?? 

because like? he is so brave that he actually pulled out a shotgun that night to protect himself and he is so caring because he warned his mom- in that shit hole, he warned her and told her to run, that demogorgon was coming? and he is also so fucking talented, i can imagine him in front of the fucking eiffel and he is also honest, he told mike the roll was a seven and he is so good at d&d and he has this amazing voice i can listen to the end of the time and he is the best looking human being with a bowl-cut and he also must be very shy about boys and his sexuality too because everyone calls him those words- even his damn father.

and his cute soft brown hair on his forehead??? and god he is so dainty- he is like a little flower that glows with the sun as it goes up on the sky in the very first hours of the morning. he is also the smallest of all the boys even though they’re all the same age- but he isn’t just small, he is smol. and he is brave again too because he wasn’t afraid of riding his bike on a dark scary road. and he also has a very good music taste and god, he was so cute when he pulled his legs to his chest and sang should i stay or should i go in the upside down, he was shaking, fucking shaking but he sang it because that song made him feel like home, that song warmed him and cleared the air he took in his lungs and it felt like he was gonna be in his room when he opened his eyes.

and- well,  he better be safe and protected or i’ll have words.

Business and Pleasure - Part 17

Summary:  Bucky AU. After a major deal falls through, your father’s business almost falls apart. In a desperate attempt to save his livelihood, he seeks the help of his oldest friend, George Barnes, who happens to be the CEO of one of the most influential businesses in New York. He agrees, but on one condition. You have to marry his son.

Word Count: 2,881

Warnings: Swearing, angst


Originally posted by captaincentenarian


In the weeks following, you had almost completely isolated yourself. You were now working from home, unable to find the motivation to drag yourself into the office. It wasn’t like you had to be there anyway. Your job mostly consisted of things that could easily be done remotely. Any time your team needed to consult with you, they just scheduled a conference call. Anyway, Steve kept you updated if there was anything you missed. That was one of the many bonuses of working with him.

You were still staying with Steve, but you preferred to spend most of your time in your room. You were suddenly thankful that he had ignored your advice and rented the two-bedroom apartment rather than the one bedroom that you had initially suggested. When he was at work, it was either Wanda or Steve’s friend Natasha who watched over you. You tried to insist that it was unnecessary, but none of them would listen. They usually left when Steve got home, and you would sit with him, eat dinner and watch whatever sports game or TV show Steve was watching, then excuse yourself to go to bed.

Keep reading

Be mine, angel - Sirius Black x Reader


Request
: Hey sweetie I just read your last Sirius writing and I got the idea of him x reader where she is the most wanted girl in the school but suprisingly doesn’t attend the yull ball and Sirius (bc he loves her) then goes to her room and find her crying?💞💞💞💞 
Warnings: swearing? a bit? My English.
Pic isn’t mine. Credits to its original owner.


It was a bit annoying.  Not that you weren’t enjoying it, but after a while it just became tiring. You had to decline an invitation to a date almost three times a day. Some of them were really persistent; They would ask you out almost every day just to receive a forced smile and a no, no thank you. You were known to be the female version on the school’s heartbreaker, but not exactly. You didn’t sleep around with everyone. Actually, you have never said yes to anyone. And that’s because you only wanted one person. That heartbreaker. His name was a synonym for one-night-stand and other even less complemental things. You, however, never gave a single sign that you were interested. You liked your heart whole and not in pieces, thank you very much.
You were about to join the conversation that was held among your friends-more like Lily being overdramatic about James, but you understood her very well-when someone, a cute Hufflepuff, walked right in front of you.
“Hello” you greeted him. You knew where the whole thing would lead but being rude to someone was not your thing. Well, not always. If anyone, anyone at all was all over your friends for any reason, you were fierce, like a tiger protecting her babies. It was just your nature.
“Hello Y/N” he addressed you kindly. He was really cute, handsome even. There was one problem though. He wasn’t him. It would be really selfish of you to date people like understudies because you couldn’t have the one you wanted. It wasn’t fair.
“Would you like to go out on a date with me? Hogsmeade maybe?” he asked you with hope burning in his eyes. You took a deep breath. It wasn’t exactly easy to decline everyone.
“You are sweet. Thank you, really. But I have to say no. Sorry” you said sweetly, with a sympathetic smile. You really didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. He smiled back at you, a bit sad.
“It’s okay. See you” he waved you goodbye while he was walking away. You hmphed. You hadn’t noticed that the guys were standing right behind you, having witnessed the whole scene. Therefore, when you turned around, expecting to find Lily and Marlene, you slightly jumped in surprise.
“Hello, boys” you cooed. You wouldn’t admit, really, but you tried to flirt with him in a subtle way in every chance given. You all walked towards the Great Hall in order to eat breakfast. Yes, your first decline was before 8. It was going to be a big day.
“Hello, love. Tell me something. How does it feel to break hearts?” Sirius asked you mockingly. You weren’t that innocent to drop it.
“Why don’t you answer that yourself, love?” you said, emphasizing the last word, almost spelling it out loud, voice like honey. He smirked. Merlin, you loved that smirk of his. Just as every other girl.
“Where have you been all my life?” he asked flirtily. That was just your thing. You would flirt with each other shamelessly but it would stop about there.
“Hiding from you” you said in a fake sweet tone while you batted your eyelashes once and pierced his eyes with your look. The guys laughed but he wasn’t going to stop yet. Lily was eyeing you knowingly. You knew that she believed that you should stay away from him. In all honesty, you had tried it. And failed. Miserably.
 “Go on, don’t be shy, babe. Ask me out” he winked at you. You smiled innocently and played with a strand of your hair.
“Okay” you answered while smiling wider. He was taken aback. You took a deep breath pretending to be stressed out.
“Get out” you said, dropping the smile and the fake tone and showing him the exit.
Marlene snorted. For a second, you thought that he looked hurt, but nah.
“Padfoot, stop flirting. Let us eat breakfast in peace” Remus asked pleadingly. He was trying to read a book at the same time. You smiled apologizingly towards him.
“I’m not flirting. I’m just being extra nice to someone who is extra attractive” Sirius informed him wiggling his eyebrows, causing Peter to choke on his porridge.
For a while you ate in silence, secretly thanking Merlin. You poured some milk into your coffee, bringing to your lips, taking a sip.
“I know milk does good for the body but damn girl, how much did you drink?”. You choked. He grinned triumphantly.


You had learned that a Ball would take place here, in Hogwarts. Christmas Eve. Your days were getting more and more annoying. You couldn’t recall how many times you’ve had answered a simple ‘no’ because it was exhausting. And today was the day your heart broke, the day of the ball. You were sitting alongside Remus in the common room. He was reading a book and you were thinking and dozing off while staring at the fire.
“I am going to the ball with Black!” Marlene exclaimed too happy to notice your strained face. It was like all air left your lungs. You wanted to be happy for her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel. Anything. Everything was such a blur. You were numb. You couldn’t believe you were so stupid to actually think he would ever look at you like that. But why Marlene? Why your friend?
“Hey. Y/N! Aren’t you excited?” Lily asked you beaming herself. She had said yes to James. Everyone was happy. Happy. You took a deep breath and shook that word out of your mind.
“I am! You girls have fun!” you said with a fake smile that only Remus got. He furrowed his eyebrows but soon his eyes widened momentarily as he probably came to the same realization you had, three years ago. He looked at you with the question burning in his eyes. You just nodded with the slightest movement. He wouldn’t sell you out.  Thankfully nobody understood that you weren’t about to go.  
“Have fun Rem” you wished him as you stood up, leaving the common room, heading to your dorm. The girls were probably in Lily’s room so you would be alone. Remus tried to call you but you didn’t respond. You just kept going.  Oh, Merlin.  It was going be one hell of a night. In a very bad way.


You could hear the giggles and the laughs. You could almost taste the sappy sappy romance. You could sense the tension between some couples. The sexual tension, that is. But you couldn’t see because of the tears. It had hit you. All those boys asking you out… they never truly liked you. They liked the way you looked. Looks fade fast. Not one… not even one had ever bothered to actually meet you. To talk to you. To befriend you. No one. They just wanted the body. But you weren’t a body. You were a soul, a mind, a heart, feelings, emotions, thoughts. A mess. A chaos. And no one could handle you. He may have stabbed you but you handed him the knife. You showed him where your weak spots are. This was your fault. You should have listened to Lily and stay away. Now it’s really too late. Too late.
The door slammed open, revealing a rather worried Sirius. The day was getting better and better by the second. You hid your face in your palms. You were sitting on your bed, knees to your chest and- you were a mess.
He closed the door behind him. You wanted to scream at him to get out, but your mouth wouldn’t obey.
“What’s wrong love?” he asked you. He came closer, sat on the bed next to you.
“Stop it. Please” you whispered. You couldn’t keep pretending. Him, calling you love?
“Stop what love?”. His voice revealed concern. Why did he care?
“CALLING ME LOVE” you snapped, tears staining your cheeks, lips trembling, hair falling out of your messy bun. You couldn’t stop now.
“Stop calling me love. Flirting with me. Smirking. Laughing. Smiling. Touching me. Stop being in my life. Just stop. Go to Marlene and leave me alone” you whispered-yelled. You were sobbing. Hard. He was taken aback.  
“You’re jealous?” he asked indiscriminately but there was something more.
“YES I AM JEALOUS! I am in love with you, you moron. I can’t stand the fact that you’re flirting and sleeping with everyone and that you are with Marls now. She is my friend, Sirius. My friend. Why her? You could any girl you wanted. Why her?”. The words flew before you could contain them.
“Because I couldn’t have you. Or so I thought. Because of you, my reality is better than my dreams” he breathed out, voice low and sincere. He grabbed your legs, wrapped one of his arms around your waist, making you sit on his lap, straddling him. His other hand cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping off your tears away. He gripped your chin, forcing your head up.
“Did you know there are 21 letters in the alphabet?” he asked you, with a playful smile. You blinked.
“There are 26” you answered pouting.
“Oh right I always forget U R A Q T”* he concluded and you cracked a smile. He beamed.
“There it is. My favorite curve. Well…” he trailed off. He squeezed your bum and you let out a laugh.
“Be mine, angel”.

*U R A Q T= You are a cutie (just in case!)

2AM - part 6 (A Minseok Series)

Genre: Angst

Characters: Minseok X You

The soundtrack and inspiration this chapter is Happier by Ed Sheeran.

2AM [M] - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12

You awoke some hours later alone with memories of your breakdown in front of Minseok, his reaction, his tearful apologies that faded as the grief and pain in your heart took over.

Keep reading

Soul on Fire

Originally posted by magneticcas

Characters: Cas x Sister!Reader, Dean, Sam

Word Count:  1168

Request:  Hi! I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if it would be possible for you to maybe do a Cas x reader smut where the reader is Sam and Deans younger sister and Cas has had feelings for the reader for a long time. But he has held back because of Sam and Dean but more and more she starts to tease him around the bunker, eventually he snaps leading to unprotected smut?  AND  I was wondering if you could do a soulmate image where the reader is the soulmate of cas but is the Winchesters young sister like in 7&8 and at the moment he feels like protective and brother like but it shows as time goes on his feelings change.

Warning: Smut, Unprotected Sex, Swearing, Fluff

A/N: Thank you so much, @notnaturalanahi  for helping me organize my thoughts with this one.  It would not be written if it wasn’t for you!  This soulmate story is a little different, because it’s more of a choice situation.  I feel awful for this story taking so long to write, I just had so little inspiration to write it.  I LOVE Cas, but really struggle writing him.


“This is Castiel.  Cas is an-,”

“Angel,” you finished, a breathy edge to your voice.  Your brother squinted at you, questioning the look of wonder on your face.

“Yeah, how did you-?” You couldn’t hear if he finished the sentence or not, but you were lost in Castiel’s crystal blue eyes.  

“You can see my wings,” Cas said, as if you were the only person in the world, as if he was speaking to your soul.  

“Yes,” you replied, taking in the silky, black feathers.

Keep reading

Lance dropping casual observations about Keith is a pure and good thing.

They’re on a new planet and Lance is trying out the food at a local festival. He’s thankful for the green goop and Hunk has done wonders in experimenting with the flavor, but sometimes a guy needs a little more variety. Or at least something that tastes like coconut. He grabs some sort of kabob looking thing and takes a small bite. As soon as the flavor hits him, he’s bounding across the room waving the dish excitedly in Keith’s face shouting, “Dude you HAVE to try this, you’re gonna love it.”

It’s hot pink with green stripes an….fuzzy? Keith raises an eyebrow at the striped mammalian horror for a moment, then narrows his eyes at Lance. “It’s not going to turn me green or make me throw up is it?”

Lance rolls his eyes. “That was one time, get over it already. Nothing weird is going to happen, I just know you have a sweet tooth so I think you’ll like it.”

Keith is blindsided by the statement. How does Lance even know that? What the quiznak? He doesn’t realize he’s silently staring at Lance until the blue paladin is waving the food in his face once again. “Are you gonna try it or what?”

Keith brushes the surprise off; he’ll think about it later. “Um… yeah, sure. Stop trying to stab me in the face with it, jeez.”

Keith ends up eating 11 of the seussian skewers before they go back to the castle for the night.



“What are you nervous about?”

Keith’s posture stiffens. He didn’t even hear Lance enter the common room. “What makes you think I’m nervous?”

Lance climbs over the back of the couch to seat himself on it - because he can’t just be normal and walk around to sit like a normal person - before answering. “You’re staring off into space, ha, and messing with the Velcro on your gloves. You only do that when you’re nervous about something.”

“How do you even know that?!” The question tumbles out of Keith’s mouth without explicit permission.

Lance pulls his legs up to cross them and raises an eyebrow. “I pay attention, obviously.” He looks away before adding “So….what’s wrong.”

They talk for a while. It’s not a magic cure, but Keith doesn’t feel like the universe is completely falling apart afterwards. It’s…nice.

Pidge finds the t-shirt on one of their trips to the space mall. It says something along the lines of “Edge Lord” on it in an alien tongue and Pidge thought it was the most hilarious thing they had ever seen an immediately bought it. Keith wrinkles his nose at it, but leaves the room to pull it on anyways. He’s never really had a family, but Pidge is so much like a younger sibling and they looked so proud of the gift. He doesn’t want to let them down. So, he slips it on and marches back into the training deck, determined to not be embarrassed. Which meant that Lance had made his way into the room just before Keith returned, of course.

Lance actually does a double take before he’s consumed with laughter. Keith pouts. When the full body howling finally dies down to more of a giggle, Lance looks over at Pidge. “Is THAT the shirt you bought him?”

They grin, “Yup.”

“God bless you Pidge. I can’t believe you got him to wear it though, Keith hates the color orange.” There’s no time for Keith to wonder how it is that Lance became privy to that information because Lance gives him another look over and grins. “With good reason too. It’s definitely not your color dude.”

Keith immediately pulls the boot off of his left foot and chucks it at Lance’s head. He doesn’t actually throw it hard, but he also doesn’t miss. 

Hunk finds a shop that sells space candy on another trip to the space mall a few weeks after the t-shit incident. They look and taste like jelly beans and even come in a myriad of assorted colors. Everyone on the ship is basically obsessed with them. No one brings it up, but the space jellies, as lance loving calls them, remind everyone on the team of home. It’s bittersweet and Coran makes sure the kitchen is well stocked with them. 

It’s the middle of the night and Keith can’t sleep, so he drags himself to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Lo and behold, he notices a certain Cuban boy sitting on the counter tossing space jellies in the air and trying to catch them with his mouth. Lance’s antics are ridiculous, but they’re also kind of…. endearing? Keith shakes the thought from his head and rolls his eyes for good measure before making his way to the pantry. 

If it had been anyone else, there would have been at least three boxes left and a cold juice sitting there waiting for the taking. BUT it’s Keith, so that means the last box of space jellies is currently being consumed by Lance who rattles a half finished box and says, “Looking for these?”

When Keith turns to face him, Lance is grinning from ear to ear. It’s definitely not cute. “You took the last one.”

Lance’s smile doesn’t falter at Keith’s grumpy tone. “Sure did.”

Keith huffs and turns back to the pantry, resigns himself to grabbing a bag of little pea shaped things that taste like banana at first, but leave a burnt toast aftertaste. Pidge is obsessed with them, Keith doesn’t really get it but he needs something to snack on so he sits a the table and tears opens the bag.

A few minutes go by and the silence is only broken up by Lace humming a few bars of some song Keith has never heard before. He likes it though and he’ s almost tempted to ask Lance to hum it a little louder. But that’s weird. So he just stares at his pea things and occasionally places one in his mouth.

A box is suddenly placed in front of Keith as Lance slides onto the seat directly across from him smiling. “You like the black ones, right?” He says it with an air of confidence that only Lance possesses but there’s some sort of undertone to it that Keith can’t quite identify. Fondness maybe?

Keith shifts his gaze from the boy in front of him back down to the box of space jellies. There are quite a few of Keith’s preferred jellies in there and it almost seems like Lance had planned on saving all of them for Keith before he even came into the kitchen. Keith pushes the thought away and looks back up at Lance to mutter a thank you. When Lance smiles this time it’s blinding and genuine. Keith has to avert his gaze yet again, because when Lance gives him that specific brand of smile… his heart starts to do weird things.

The humming starts again and when Keith is done with his jellies they clean up and Lance walks him to his room. The “Goodnight” Lace utters before heading to his room is accompanied with a small wave and a soft smile. Keith falls back to sleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

They’re sitting side by side on the floor of the bridge staring upwards at the holographic image of Earth’s sun and all of the stars surrounding it. It doesn’t happen every night, not that there’s really a night or a day in space, either way they should both be asleep at these time none the less, but it’s not uncommon for one of them to find the other sitting by a window looking out at the endless space that surrounds them at all times now.

Sometimes they just sit together in comfortable silence. Sometimes they make up stupid constellations to make one another laugh. Occasionally they’ll both lay down next to each other as they look out a window at an unfamiliar planet and talk about all kinds of things in muted tones. 

Tonight though, there was something about the look in Lance’s eyes that made Keith take him by the wrist and lead him to the bridge to look at the familiar stars they’d both grown up staring at. 

Keith smiles as he points to another cluster and says, “That’s Lyra.”

Lace looks up. “It’s small.”

“Yep.” The red paladin nods. “It’s the 52nd constellation in order from largest to smallest, but Vega is part of the constellation and that’s the fifth brightest star in Earth’ s night sky.”

Lance pulls his legs to his chest and rests his chin on his knees. “Isn’t there a myth behind it about a musician or something?”

“Yeah, Orpheus. The story is pretty sad actually.”

Lance spares Keith a glance paired with a smirk before looking back at the hologram. A half smile shouldn’t twist Keith’s stomach like that, but it does. “Greek mythology usually is Keith.” There’s a brief pause before Lance turns back to Keith again and asks “Will you tell me the story?” 

This time Lance doesn’t look away. His gaze is fixed on Keith and the expression he’s making and the tone of voice he’s using isn’t quite as unfamiliar to Keith anymore as it was four months back. In fact, he gives Keith that look every night they sit together under the stars, and sometimes throughout the day when he thinks no one is looking, or when he catches Keith laughing at one of his jokes. Lance looks at Keith like precious, like he’s the most beautiful thing in the universe and it never fails to make Keith’s mouth go dry or increase his heartrate.

“You don’t want to hear me ramble about some random Greek tragedy.” He can’t look away from those eyes. Who awarded Lance the right to have such perfect blue eyes? They’re the pools of water you land in when you’ve followed the river down the waterfall and Keith has never been a strong swimmer. It’s not fair.

“I do.” Lance sounds so sincere. Why does he have to sound like that? Why is his voice so soft and fond? Two syllables came out of that mouth. Simple words, three letters, one space between the first and the last two when written down, and they still manage to knock the breath from Keith’ s lungs. 

When it’s just him and Keith, Lance is different. The obnoxious jokes, and the issuing of lame little competitions between the two of them, and the occasional bickering are all still there even when they’re alone. Keith just feels like there’s something…extra. Like bonus content you only get when you’ve purchased the collector’s edition of a game or something. Lance’s edges get softer and he’s more honest about what he’s feeling when no one else is in the room. He’s  a little more sincere, more prone to being serious, and it’s stunning.

“Please? I like to hear your voice.” Keith still can’t manage to tear his eyes away from the boy sitting next to him, and he knows. He knows that he’s beat red. It’s so, so embarrassing, but he still takes a deep breath when his lungs figure out how they’re supposed to work again and he starts telling the story. 

“So, you were right. Orpheus was a musician, but not like any run of the mill musician, he was the best harpist in all of Greece, even the gods acknowledged his talents.” Lance whistles and Keith tries very hard to not be distracted by the way his lips pucker to make the sound. “Umm…. So, on his wedding day his wife, Eurydice, got separated from the wedding party and got bit on the heel by a snake while she was running away from a Satyr with… less that pure intentions and died.”

“That’s awful.” It’ s almost a whisper.

“Yeah, it really is.” Keith pauses for a moment to silently mourn a fictional nymph. Which, okay yeah it’s probably dumb, but whatever. If Keith had learned anything in the last six months of constant warfare, it’s that patience yields focus and you should always respect the dead. He continues, “Anyways, Orpheus was so heartbroken that he decided to take a journey to the underworld to strike a bargain with Hades to get her back. So when he got there he just started playing this song, and it was so beautiful that even the stones around them start crying and it moved both Hades and his wife Persephone’s hearts or whatever, so Hades cut him a deal.”

“He told Orpheus that if he started walking to the gates of Hell Eurydice would follow behind him and be returned to the world of the living, but only if he didn’t look back at her until they were both out of Hades’ domain. So he walked and walked and had to keep reminding himself that no matter how much his heart told him to, he couldn’t look back. So, when he reached the upperworld he finally looked back, except he forgot to account for the fact that Eurydice could be farther than a foot behind him. She hadn’t reached the entry yet, so she was dragged back down to stay in the world of the dead.”

Lance makes a small sound, whining sound. It’s the same sound Lance always makes when he hears something sad or sees wounds on a comrade after a battle. Keith reaches a hand out to push Lance’s bangs back partly because he knows it’s the easiest way to sooth the blue paladin, and partly because it was an excuse to touch him.

He pulls his hand back, not without reluctance but he still has the rest of the story to tell and being mesmerized by Lance melting under his fingertips would be a little too distracting for Keith to remember how words work. “After that he only ever played sad music. There are a few different versions of how the myth ends, but the one that’s told most often is that in his grief he didn’t pay tribute to the god of wine and he was torn limb from limb as punishment. The muses carried his harp into the sky to form Lyra and immortalize Orphus’s tragedy in the night sky.”

All at once there’s a weight on Keith’s side that was not previously there. Lance had closed the small space between them so that he could rest his head against Keith’s should and lean into him. 

Lance makes an amused sound. “Of course your favorite constellation in the sky would be the one with the with the most depressing love story behind it.”

Keith furrows his brow. He’s been pointing out different constellations all night and he just doesn’t get how Lance picked out his favorite one so easily. His heart does something weird again. It’s painful and also…  pleasant? warm? nice? 

Keith does it too, though. Off of the top of his head he could tell you that Lance hates everything remotely flavored like cooked carrots, but will eat anything that tastes like raw ones. He could write poems about how Lance always worries his bottom lip with his teeth when he’s not quite sure what to say. He could almost list all of the names of the people in Lance’s absurdly large family in alphabetical order and tell you at least two facts about each one of them. Keith could tell you all about how Lance mumbles under his breath in Spanish when he’s scared or exhausted. It wouldn’t sound as pretty, but he could hum you all of the songs Lance sings when he’s happy.

Keith know without a shadow of a doubt why he remembers every tiny detail that Lance has ever revealed to him. There wasn’t a specific moment he realized he was in love with Lance, it had been happening slowly for a long time now. And, yeah, Keith thinks he has an idea as to  why Lance knows so many small truths about him too. He’s just… never asked for confirmation. So he plays with the velcro on his gloves for split second before deciding to take them off completely and setting them aside. He burns a hole in the projected image of Earth’s sun and bites the bullet.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

Lance lifts his head from Keith’s should and settles his chin in it’s place so that he gets a better view of Keith’s profile. “Doing what?”

Keith musters up the courage to turn his face and look directly into Lance’s eyes. Their noses are almost touching now. “Noticing all of these… I don’t know, these like, obscure little things about me that no one else notices. Like knowing I like black space jellies when I’ve never actually vocalized anything about that, or remember when Hunk tried to shove that plant in my face so I could smell it and you swatted it out of his hands because it looked like a tulip and you remembered I was allergic to them. Or knowing that my favorite color is blue and that my least favorite is burnt orange.”

“To be fair burnt orange is an awful color in general.”

“Okay, yeah, but you always know when I’m upset, or nervous, or happy because of some weird hand gesture that I usually don’t even know I’m doing until you point it out. Why do you know all of those things Lance? Why do you remember them?”

One of Lance’s eyebrows quirks up and he teases, “Do you really want to know?”

Keith let’s out an exasperated breath. “Well, I asked didn’t I? So yeah Lance, I want to know.”

The smirk falls off of Lace’s face and he shifts himself to sit on his feet so that his body is facing Keith’s. Lace keeps his eyes trained on the floor, looking like he’s waging some sort of internal battle, and when he finally looks back up at Keith there’s determination burning in his expression and maybe a little fear. 

Lance opens his mouth to speak…and then he closes it. He does this four times before bringing his folded hands up from his lap to cover his face. Lance complains into his hands in hushed Spanish. 

When he peaks out from between his fingers and then drops them uselessly back in his lap, his cheeks and ears are an adorable shade of red and he smiles at Keith sheepishly. “You know, for someone who talks so much, I’m really not all that great with words when it comes to stuff like this.” 

The words are accompanied by a self deprecating laugh. Keith frowns and tries to make his voice sound encouraging when he says “Take your time.”

Lance smiles, but there’s a bitter edge to it. “That’s the thing though, all I’ve been doing is taking my time. I’m kind of sick of it honestly. I keep trying to find the exact right words to say to you and I practice in my head and then as soon as I consider opening my mouth to say it, I just forget how to talk or I say something dumb. And it’s just so ridiculous, you know? Because it doesn’t have to be some drawn out dramatic speech like I keep telling myself. It’s actually just so stupidly simple and I don’t get why I’m so scared to mess it up. But really, how hard is it to say “because” and follow it up with three words? I look at you an I just…” Lance stares at him. “I just…” Lance lifts his hands and places them on either side of Keith’s face. 

Keith’s heart is trying to make its great escape by bludgeoning it’s way out of his chest. He’s pretty sure his entire rib cage is turning to dust and his body is down a set of lungs. They’ve just ceased existing. What are lungs? No clue, never heard of them.

“Keith.” Lance’s voice cracks just a little when he says the name and he swallows and starts again. “Keith. Keith Kogane. My buddy, my pal. I know that you have a sweet tooth, and that you love a good hug but don’t know how to ask for one when you need it. I know that you’re smart, and talented, and think butterscotch candies are the sole creation of the devil himself.”

Keith can’t help the laughter that escapes him and it makes Lance smile the way he always does when Keith so much as chuckles.

“I know that you have the best laugh I’ve ever heard. You have no idea how much I love that laugh. Seriously. I know you collect snow globes, and love conspiracy theories-”

“They’re not all just theories Lance, there’s a lot of evidence out -”

“Shhhhhh, you asked me a question and I’m trying to answer it and I’m kind of on a roll after mumbling for five minutes about how this wasn’t going to be some drawn out thing. But I’m just focusing on you instead of some practiced speech and I’m actually forming mildly coherent sentences, so be quiet. I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.”

“I know a bunch of tiny little facts about you, and yeah sure part of that is because I’m super observant and totally cool,” he winks, “but I notice all of those things specially about you because…” Lance swallows hard and takes a calming breath. “I lo-”

Keith has been told many times that he gives into impulses too quickly, that he’s too impatient. And…yeah, it’s true, absolutely, and he’s working on it. No, really, he is! Try as he might though, he couldn’t handle another second of wanting to kiss Lance and not doing it when the opportunity clearly presented itself. 

It’s not the smoothest first kiss, but it’s not all teeth and bumping noses either, and it leads into soft drawn out kisses, and kisses that can barely even be called that because the two of them are grinning so wide. 

When Keith pulls away a faux pouty expression take over Lance’s face. “You didn’t even let me finish.” He starts to waggle his eyebrows in the most obnoxious way possible and says “These lips were just irresistible huh? I guess I’m just too smoochable.”

How the hell does Keith find this so cute? 

“Hey, Keith?” 

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

creideamhgradochas  asked:

Could you do 067: "I came home to a Nerf gun on the front porch and a note that says ‘Here is your weapon. I have one too. Loser cooks dinner. Good luck. xo’" from the 101 Fluffy prompts with Bucky please?

Why of course I can!!! And I am so fucking sorry this took a century and a half to post. I’m a horrible person. xxx

Originally posted by gliceria

Home Sweet Nerf Gun

Bucky came home to see an offensively bright, neon pink and orange nerf gun on the front porch. Just laying there all innocently on the doormat (the doormat says ‘Welcome! Beware of husband, cat is shady, wife is cool though’). With a curious grin he climbs the three porch steps and halts before the gun that has a small torn piece of scratch paper perched on top of it. It reads in your familiar script: Here is your weapon, I have one too. Loser cooks dinner. Good fucking luck xo.

Bucky right out cackles when he sees your P.S - ‘p.s you should not have taught me how to snipe baby’

Keep reading