i love hes t shirt

6

Isak + being shook when Even talks to him

4

I was tagged by @kingusoo to do the bias and selfie thing. Sorry I’m late and thanks for tagging me!(´∀`)

I’m tagging @brbadgirl @prettylittlexo @peniruplastik @kyungsonu @penguinsoo0112 @kyungkong @hunniedae and everyone else who wants to do it.

Also you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to ^^

Today Elmer my horse villager got scared of scurvy so he asked me to give him some fruit. I gave him a pear I picked up off the ground and he was so happy that he gave me a suit of golden armor in return.

I got some royal shorts to complete the look and now I’m my village’s protector queen. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to change my clothes.

9

Shadowhunters Appreciation Weeks - Week 7 (May 29-June 4)

Favorite Outfits: Alec Edition

Izzy / Magnus / Ladies

I love how jungkook has an amazing body , yet he always picks oversized T-shirts over anything that could enhance his perfect body. His biceps are always hidden , it's almost like a surprise whenever we spot them 👀
Fully Exposed: Ryan Ross

Y/N: hey y’all I’m not a total pornhub livestream genius so I don’t know exactly how it works, like if there’s a chat or it’s one on one or you need an account or anything, but I tried to write something similar! Also, my first ryan fic! :)

Anonymous said:
Hey, could you do an imagine where you’re dating Ryan Ross and he finds out you do livestreams on pornhub but he finds it super hot? Thank you!!

*female reader, smut

Incognito window.
Type in the link.
Sign into your account.
Click the livestream button.
Ease into your chair.
Watch as the viewers filed in, eyes fixed on you.
And let the fun begin.

Honestly, you had been doing it before you even met Ryan. In a way, it was your own secret guilty pleasure. Why would you put perfectly good lingerie and sex toys to waste when you could spend a couple hours fooling around with your web cam and a couple submissive men on the internet? It was such an easy catch every single time. Hell, half of the time they’d get boners before you even uncovered anything. Just a flirty wink and a seductive lip bite and you had them wrapped around your finger. Especially the public livestreams, where everyone could see you, the comments filing in as your hands roamed your body… It was an adrenaline rush, a great orgasm, and a thrilling experience. So when you started dating Ryan, it only became even better. It was like your own small sexy secret, something to keep to yourself, your own small naughty little sin.

“Hey babe,” Ryan greeted when he entered the apartment and you quickly logged out, shutting down the incognito window, slamming down your laptop screen, hopping in the bed and snuggling under the blankets in just enough time for him to open up the door and give you a sly smile.

“Hey,” you whispered.

“Is this what you’ve been doing while I’m in the studio?” he rolled his eyes, sitting on the bed next to you. “Geez I’m tempted to join you.”

“Then join me,” you smirked.

“I’d love to,” he hummed, laying down and placing his head right beside yours on the pillow. “But I’ve got work I have to do.”

“Come on,” you whined playfully, wrapping an arm around him when he looked down, glancing up at you.

“Are you wearing any clothes, baby?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe yes, maybe no,” you shrugged, eyeing him carefully.

“So this is what you do when I’m gone,” he chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around you and kicking off the blanket, leaving your body exposed. “Just lay in bed without any clothes on, probably waiting for me to get back, hmm?”

“Sure,” you teased, placing a kiss on his lips before rolling out of bed, picking up a random baggy shirt from the floor and putting it on. “I think I’m going to take a shower. You go finish up that work.”

“I just got here,” he argued. “It’s so comfy.”

“Later tonight,” you promised. You loved leading him on just to turn him down. It often built up the anticipation for what was to follow.

“Fine,” he complied. “You go take a shower.” You were halfway out the door when he spoke up again. “And hey?”

“Yeah?” you turned around, staring at him.

“You look really fucking great in my t-shirt,” he murmured.

“I know I do,” you grinned before walking out the door and heading towards the bathroom.

“Try not to moan so loud when you’re touching yourself in there!” he called out playfully and you smirked.

“Whatever!” you shouted back jokingly.

You slipped off the fabric of his t-shirt, taking a moment to breathe in the scent of warm maple syrup and calming tea before turning on the warm water. Humming softly, you stepped into the shower, letting the droplets scatter upon your shoulders before sliding down your back, closing your eyes, mind slipping off into a distant memory. It felt like just yesterday you were in the crowd, making your way to the front of the bar, desperate to know who was playing the music, locking eyes with the skinny boy with the Peter Pan hair and the innocent lips, fingers traveling up the neck of his bass, the same boy who you’d escape with later that night. You remembered the smoke in the air and the taste of his lips and the way he smiled and how gentle and fragile he felt in your arms but how desperate and persistent his body felt against yours, and when you were both nothing but fabric shed on the floor and skin craving for something more. It was then that you both knew very well this wouldn’t be the last time you’d share a night alone in a room.

When you stepped out, shutting off the stream, wrapping a towel around your body and squeezing the water from your hair, you heard the soft acoustic melody meet your ears from the sofa in the living room. You gave a small smile, walking out into the room and listening to him sing as he strummed on the strings, a melancholy sort of song. The tune was soft and sweet, slow and delicate, lyrics along the lines of diamonds and broken glass. “That’s beautiful,” you whispered when he finished, and he turned around, surprised to see you there.

“Not as beautiful as you,” he responded with a grin and you rolled your eyes.

“Come here,” he instructed, placing the guitar on the ground as you walked over to him. “Drop the towel for me, baby.”

“Magic word?” you teased.

“Please,” he looked up at you, pleading puppy dog eyes and pleading expression on his face.

“Only for you,” you smirked, dropping the towel to the floor and sitting on his lap, wrapping your legs around him as he pulled you in for a soft kiss, his hands roaming your body.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he breathed against your neck, placing soft kisses down your skin.

“Don’t let me distract you,” you shook your head, pulling away and scooping up the towel and sliding off his lap. “Get back to work.”

“You always distract me,” he rolled his eyes, and you blew him a kiss before exiting the room, giving a soft smile when you heard the return of soft guitar chords and the faint singing. Sometimes you couldn’t tell whether he was singing song lyrics or reciting poetry, the words were so sweet.

Entering the bedroom, your eyes flickered at the laptop laying on the desk. You were already practically naked, plus Ryan was busy with his songs, a couple minutes of a public livestream wouldn’t hurt, right? Temptation lingered in your mind before you reached for the laptop, locking the door of the bedroom and positioning it at the edge of the mattress while you typed in the familiar website, signed into your account, and scrolled until you found the livestream button. You wrapped your towel around yourself and clicked the button, smirking as the viewers filed in, keeping the towel loosely wrapped around your body, showing off just enough cleavage and biting your lower lip. “You like that?” you whispered for them to hear. You chuckled softly to yourself as you read the comments.

What a dirty little slut.
Be a good girl and drop the towel, sweetheart.
Let us see that body!

“So pushy,” you clicked your tongue with teasing hint of disapproval, watching the rest of the comments scroll by. There was a good handful of people in by now, and you were just about ready to start. You paused a moment just to listen to the faint noise of guitar chord strums, knowing very well Ryan wasn’t paying any attention, and then flickered your eyes back to the screen. “Ready for some fun?”

Fuck, she’s taking forever.
Enough with the teasing, give us what we want.
Come on, you whore.
Show us something!

“Show you something?” you smirked, dropping the towel instantly and giving them a great view of your tits. “How about this? Hmm?”

Holy shit.
That’s what I’m talking about!
Give us more!
Hot damn….

A smile crept on your lips as you took one of your breasts in your hands, giving it a good squeeze and letting out a soft moan, slowly opening your eyes and watching the comments slide down quickly. More viewers filed in and you gave a slight chuckle.

Move the camera lower!
Absolutely gorgeous.
Let’s see some more of what you have to offer, baby.

“What?” you raised an eyebrow. “You want to see more?”

Yes please!
Stop being a brat and show us that good pussy.
Behave for us, princess.
Come on you whore.

“I don’t know…” you sighed, resisting the urge to grin as they became more agitated. You loved playing with them like this. That’s when you shoved your towel off the bed, ready to tilt your laptop screen at just the right angle when the last thing you expected happened. There was a knock on the door.

Not so alone, huh?
Naughty, naughty girl.
Who might that be?
Mm something’s going down!
Ignore it and give us a good show, baby!
Was that a knock on the door?

You cringed at the comments and frantically searched for the small x on the corner of the screen when there was another knock on the door and then a voice, practically giving you a heart attack. “What are you up to in there?” Ryan wondered and you froze, instantly paralyzed with guilt.

“Nothing…” your faint voice responded, deciding to instead just shut the motherfucking laptop and place it behind you in a panicked sweat, then whipping your head around the room searching for some clothes. “Uh, just getting changed.”

“I think I heard you say something earlier,” he argued. “Come on babe, open up the door.”

“Hold on-” you begged, picking up another one of his shirts up off the floor in a rush and sliding it on before racing to the door and opening it, trying your best to catch your breath and look as composed as comfortable as possible. “Hey.”

“You okay, y/n?” he inquired, eyeing you up and down.

“Yup,” you nodded a little too quickly for his liking, your brain still frantically trying to piece this all together. Plus, what the fuck were you supposed to do with the viewers in the livestream?

“Y/n,” Ryan narrowed his eyes. “Come on.”

“What?” you tried to argue as innocently as possible. “I was just changing!”

“Into one of my dirty t-shirts,” he stated flatly.

“You know I love your clothes,” you counteracted, actually proud of yourself for coming up with a quick fix and a believable lie.

“You just got out of the shower,” he rolled his eyes. “Plus, you’re wearing it inside out.”

“Huh?” you looked down instantly to find that indeed, you were wearing one of his shirts inside out, and you turned red with embarrassment.

“Seriously, I mean, I can even tell you’re not even wearing a bra or underwear baby,” he sighed. “What were you doing?”

“Nothing,” you persisted.

“I heard you talking and I’m pretty sure it was not to yourself,” he pointed out. “And now my shirt and… what’s on the bed?” He craned his neck and saw the discarded towel on the floor, the laptop not even fully closed laying on the mattress, and you could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating.

“Ryan-” his name barely even escaped your lips and you watched in horror as he crossed the room slowly, eyeing you carefully before picking up the laptop.

“Do you want to explain or should I find out on my own?” he gave you a last chance, but it was useless. You were a blubbering, stammering, nervous wreck, your mind not even able to string together a coherent sentence.

“J-just look for yourself,” you choked out defeated.

Ryan stared at you strangely before opening the laptop, blinking twice with a blank expression on his face, swallowing uncomfortably before slowly shifting his gaze back to you. “Were you, uh, on a porn website?” he wondered. The second his eyes meet yours you feel like you just might shrink. Except there was something in his gaze you couldn’t seem to recognize. Lust, almost, maybe jealousy. You couldn’t quite tell. He returned his attention back to the computer screen and you could tell from the way his expression changed that he was just now fully understanding what was going on, his expression turning to curiosity, and you knew very well he was probably reading the comments. His brown eyes grew dark, his brow furrowed, biting down on his lower lip. There was a moment of silence that passed before he spoke again. You could practically hear your heart beating out of its chest. “The livestream’s still on, you know.”

“Yeah,” you were barely able to whisper back.

“Then continue what you were doing,” he stated.

“What?” your eyes almost fell out of their sockets.

“I want to see you, y/n,” he rephrased it. “Come on, continue the livestream. Show them what they want, baby. I’m sure you know what to do.”

“Babe…” you stared at him in disbelief, your feet frozen in place, not daring to even inhale another breath. There was no way you were doing that.

“Go on,” he urged, handing you the laptop. You watched as he pulled a chair from the desk across the room and positioned it in front of the bed, perfect view of where you had been sitting previously, crossing his hands over his chest, eyes fixed on you. “I’m not going to tell you again.”

You inhaled a shaky breath and then placed the laptop on the edge of the bed, sitting in front of it and closing your eyes tight before opening them up again, staring at the screen and trying to forget that Ryan was sitting right there watching you. Glancing at the comments you surprised a grin. “Miss me much?” you smirked.

There she is.
What the fuck was that all about?
Cute boyfriend!!!
Did he leave?
Show us that beautiful body!

“You want to see me, hmm?” you raised an eyebrow. “I suppose I’ve made you all wait long enough, yeah?”

Come on, give us something!
I’m dying over here.
Take off the shirt!

Smiling, you slipped the shirt up off your body and tucked your hair behind your ear, trying to ignore the fact that Ryan was there and you looked at the comments which were now sliding down the screen at a rather reckless pace. You could barely read them all.

Spread those gorgeous legs, baby.
Fuck that’s what I’ve been waiting for.
Body to kill for!
Holy motherfucking shit.

“You like this?” you raised an eyebrow, slipping a hand down your chest towards your stomach and even lower, separating your legs slowly and sliding your hand over your center. You heard a gasp and you looked up, realizing it wasn’t from your lips, but instead, Ryan’s. You gave a sly smile and watched as he blushed, caught with his own hand in between his legs, making you even more turned on. The comments never stopped.

God that’s hot.
You’re so fucking wet for us, you dirty whore.
Show us more of that pretty pussy, baby!
Be a good slut and let out a moan.
Finger yourself so fucking good.

“Damn,” you sighed, easing your back into the bed and slipping a finger into your core, closing your eyes. You pumped it in and out, rubbing your clit in small circles and letting out some soft moans before inserting another finger, this time gasping and knowing very well Ryan was watching. However, instead of being embarrassed, shy, or hesitant this time, you fucking owned it. Let him watch if he wanted. Hell, why would you ever deny someone a good show?

“Fuck baby, I can’t stand it,” you heard him mutter and you looked up, confused, when you realized Ryan was getting up from his chair, exposing an extremely obvious hard on inside his skinny jeans. “I need you.”

“Hey-” you began to protest when he climbed on top of you on the mattress. He was capturing your lips in a kiss and pushing you down, his hands pinning yours above your head, sliding his tongue into your mouth before trailing his lips down your jaw, your neck, your breasts, your stomach, licking a stripe down your folds before working its way up again. “You’re all mine, baby.”

“Goddammit Ryan,” you let out a shaky breath as his hands and mouth roamed your body.

“That’s right,” he whispered in your ear, kissing you on the lips before unzipping his jeans and tugging them down with his boxers, kicking them aside and lining up with your entrance. “All mine.” He thrust into you and you gasped. He started to gain a rhythm and you wrapped your legs around his waist, slipping your tongue into his mouth as he rocked your body back and forth in sync with his, sinking deeper and deeper every time.

“Shit you feel so good baby,” you moaned softly against his neck as he got faster, edging you close to your climax.

“Better than all that teasing with the camera, hmm?” he wondered, letting go of his grip on your wrists and letting your hands instantly fall to his shoulders, pulling him closer to you, his hands on your hips to steady him. “You. Are. Mine.”

“Fuck,” you gasped, feeling a familiar warmth pool within your stomach. “Ryan…”

“Come on baby,” he urged. “You’re not going to give in that quick, are you?”

“I can’t-” you barely choked out before cumming, moaning out his name and digging your fingernails into his shoulders, your body shaking with waves of euphoria as he kept sliding in and out. It wasn’t long before he came too, gasping and losing control as an orgasm took him, burying his face in the crook of your neck and mumbling a string of curse words.

“Fuck y/n,” he sighed, slowly pulling out and then curling you up in his arms, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you replied, struggling to catch your breath.

“You’re so fucking good,” he murmured, kissing your lips. The two of you laid there with arms wrapped around each other, struggling to catch your breath, recovering from the amazing sex you had both just experienced. Several moments passed before you came to a realization, taking a couple seconds to let it sink in before you decided to draw attention to it.

“You know they were watching all of that right?” you smirked.

“What?” Ryan’s eyes went wide, just now realizing what had gone down.

“Yup,” you chuckled softly, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “You’re fully exposed now, baby.”

“Shit,” he mumbled, looking at the laptop that was still miraculously perfectly positioned at the edge of the bed, instantly shutting it closed with his foot.

“What?” you raised an eyebrow, amused. “You embarrassed?”

“Huh?” he looked at you, the obvious blush in his cheeks and worried eyes saying it all.

“You’re cute you know,” you reassured. “I bet they thought you were hella hot.”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes. “I’m just the cranky over possessive boyfriend.”

“Yeah but being dominant is sexy,” you winked.

“Being dominant means I get to give out punishments,” he reminded and you swallowed uncomfortably, starting to let the entire reality of the situation sink in.

“So…” you trailed out the word. “Am I, uh, going to get in trouble for being naughty?”

“What do you mean?” he wondered, confused.

“The whole livestreaming on Pornhub thing,” you reminded. “Remember?”

“Oh, that?” he laughed. “Babe, I thought that was fucking hot as hell.”

“Really?” you raised your eyebrows, surprised. “You like that?”

“Shit y/n, that was, that was…” he searched for the right word but failed to find it. “Just really fucking hot.”

“What did you like about it?” you gave a sly smile.

“The teasing and the putting on a show and how cocky and arrogant you were and just, fuck. It was such a turn on,” he closed his eyes tight and opened them again. “Surprised me.”

“So you didn’t mind?” you asked carefully.

“I was kind of jealous,” he confessed.

“But you enjoyed it,” you pointed out. “You loved it.”

“I did love it,” Ryan admitted shyly.

“So you’d do it again?” you inquired.

“Huh?” his eyes went wide.

“You’d do it again?” you repeated, hopeful gaze meeting his.

“I don’t know,” he smirked. “Looks like we’ll just have to wait until next time to find out.”

anonymous asked:

would you mind doing one where josh and the reader are trying for a baby and eventually she gets pregnant, but then miscarries? also if you could make it super sad that'd be awesome because i am emo af. anyways have a wonderful day, friend.

JOSH DUN IMAGINE

It’s amazing how one small sign on a stick can make your entire heart break in two.  But sure enough, as the negative sign appears on the surface of the pregnancy test, you can’t help but let out a frustrated sob.  At one point, you find yourself gripping the plastic tightly in your fist before throwing it across the bathroom, it clatters against the wall before falling to the floor.  

You’d grown accustomed to negative pregnancy tests, it really shouldn’t be that catastrophic, but this time was different.  This time you broke.  

You and Josh had been trying so hard after all.  The prenatal vitamins, the fertility drugs, all for nothing.  You were empty.  Barren.  

Somewhere amidst your racing thoughts, Josh had heard your crying from the hall.  He knocks softly before entering, his eyes widen at the image of you curled up on the floor.  

“Baby-“ he whispers as he approaches you cautiously.  

You rest your elbow on your scrunched up knees and let your face fall to your hands.  You’re shaking your head, an indication that you couldn’t speak at the moment.  You couldn’t find the words to tell him.  Not again.  

But he sits on the floor behind you and all but drags your body so your back is against his chest.  His touch fills you with emotions and you cry harder.  Josh wraps his arms around you, winding around your body and holding you tightly.  Something tells you that he knows why you’re broken on the floor.  And it hurts.

“I want a baby,” you plead softly.  

“We’ll try again,” he whispers into your hair.  “It’s okay, we’ll try again.”

He’s the voice of reason.  The practical, yet optimistic mindset that you severely lack.  You want to protest, to argue and yell and fight him on it.  What was the point of trying again?  What was the point of trying at all?  But instead you nod.  You let your head fall back against his chest and you nod, squeezing your eyes shut and focusing on the warmth of his skin pressed against yours.  You held on, because what other choice did you have?  Baby or no baby, it was still you and Josh.  And it always would be.  

You spent the majority of the week sulking.  It was futile and you knew it, but you needed time to grieve.  You’d move on.  Just not yet.  

Josh gave you an appropriate amount of space.  He realized that you needed time to process.  He understood.  

It was Saturday morning when Josh comes barreling into the bedroom with a tray full of food.  You stir away and sit up in bed, wiping your sleepy eyes before taking it all in.  He’s balancing orange juice and pancakes with assorted fruits.  He’s staring down at the food with his tongue sticking out of his mouth, like he’s concentrating too hard to keep it on the tray.

“What is this?” you ask in disbelief.

“I made breakfast,” he says proudly, only stopping to look at you once the tray is sitting solidly on the bed.

“I can see that, but why?  What’s the occasion?”  You’re smiling widely gazing at the delicious meal he prepared for you.  

“Anything to show you how much I love you, and how much I care.”

Your smile gets marginally bigger and you look up at Josh fondly, your heart bursting with love and affection.  

“Are you gonna eat with me then?” you ask smugly, scooting your body up closer to the tray of food.  

Josh’s face breaks into a huge grin and he runs over to his side of the bed like a small child, climbing in and scooting up next to you.  

“Thank you for doing this,” you say once the tray is practically empty.  You and Josh always could put away some serious food.  

You close the short distance between the two of you and press your lips to his.  He tastes sweet, like maple syrup.  When you pull away, you’re surprised to see Josh’s smile fading.  

“What is it?”

“I just hate to see you hurting,” he says somberly, “I know you’re hurting.  I know you want a baby, and it kills me that I can’t give that to you.”

“Josh—“ you try to interject.

“No, just listen… It does, it kills me that I can’t give you want you want.  But I want you to know I love you.  With everything inside of me, I love you.  And if you want to try again, that’s okay.  But if you don’t, that’s fine too.  Either way, I’m always going to be here.”

You would have teared up.  In fact, you would have most certainly burst into tears if not for the fact that your stomach was all of a sudden extremely nauseous.  You flung yourself out of bed, barely cautious of the dishes at the end of the sheets and bolted towards the bathroom.  

You cringe as the contents of Josh’s delicious breakfast empty into the toilet.  Josh is right behind you, rubbing your back and holding your hair.  You try to wave him away, you don’t want him to see you like this.  

“Shh—“ Josh coos as you retch and heave into the bowl.  

When you’re finally done, you let yourself fall back against the tub and breathe for a moment.  

“Are you okay?” Josh is asking frantically.  He’s worried for you.

But you just breathe deeply before looking up to him, “You poisoned me,” you say laughing.

Josh looks relieved that you’re alright, but still concerned about your sweating forehead and sudden sickness.

You insist that it’s just a bug and refuse to let Josh fret over you.  Instead, you spend the rest of the day relaxing and watching movies.  

You throw up the next morning.  

And again the morning after that.  

You finally go into the doctors and you’re shaking the whole way there.

You don’t know what to expect, but you tell the doctor your symptoms.  He nods and draws blood before exiting and letting the lab examine the results.  

It feels like forever before he’s reentering the room, but when he does, he has a smug look on his face.  

“Well?” you urge.

“Congratulations,” the doctor says, folding his arms.  “You’re pregnant.”

You and Josh were on top of the world.  For the first time in so long, everything in your life felt good and you loved the little baby growing inside of you so much.  

After only two weeks of knowing, you and Josh start talking about names.  

“We don’t even know if it’s going to be a boy or girl,” you giggle as Josh starts rattling off baby names.  You were both laying on the floor of the living room, the blankets and pillows pulled down with you like some sort of fort.  

“We’ll prep for both then!” he says, leaning his head on your shoulder.

You squeeze your eyes shut, smiling so widely before nodding.  “Yeah, okay.  Let’s prep for both.”

Josh started coming home with baby stuff.  First it was clothes.  Unisex.  Then a crib.  Then some toys.  You pretended to be annoyed.  You’d roll your eyes and laugh at him for being so excited.  But inside, you were bursting with happiness.  As if you needed more evidence that Josh was going to be the best dad in the world.  

He started adding it to the room you’d dedicated to your future child.  The walls were painted a pleasant green color.  Josh set up the crib, arranged the stuffed animals in just the right way.  You even found him setting up a mobile above the baby’s crib one night before bed.  

He’s on a small step ladder.  You can see the skin of his hips and back as he reaches above his head.  You stand in the doorway and watch him maneuver the screw driver.  Once he’s finally content, he steps down.  You smile and walk up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him from behind.

“Have I told you how much I love you today?” you ask into his t-shirt.

He rotates so that he’s facing you and bends down to plant a soft kiss on your lips.  “No, but my ears are open,” he says.

“I love you,” you say between pecks.  “More than anything.”

He smiles warmly back at you, “We’re gonna be a family,” he says, placing his hand on the base of your stomach.  You get butterflies, and you’re not sure if it’s from his touch or his words.  Either way, your heart feels like it might explode.  

When you wake up in the dead of the night, it’s no longer your heart that feels like it’s going to explode.  It’s your insides.  A sharp pain radiates throughout your body and you gasp harshly.  You sit up in bed, gripping at your baby bump and immediately, you know that something’s wrong.  

You stare into the darkness of your bedroom, pleading for this all to be in your head.  Everything was going to be fine.  You took some deep breathes and tried to push through the pain.  It almost felt like it was subsiding too until another wave hit.  You cry out and this time, you felt a rush of warmth between your legs.  

Josh stirs beside you and you grab onto him, whatever part you can reach.  

“Babe?” he says once he’s a little more cognizant of his surroundings.

“Josh—“ you plead, your voice breaking, “something’s wrong.”

Josh flings himself out of bed to turn the lamp on, but when he does, you wish he would just take it back.  The light illuminates a gorging spot of blood on the sheets, right between your legs.  

The sight of it makes your head go dizzy.  You blink hard, trying to regain focus, but the whole world seems to be closing in around you.  Josh is speaking, but his voice feels so distant.  

He’s running around the room frantically packing a hospital bag.  He wraps his coat around himself before tending to you on the bed.  You’re just starting at the pool of blood, fixated on it’s devilish color.

“Baby,” Josh says quietly, he’s trying to soothe you. “We’re gonna go to the hospital, it’s gonna be okay.”

You nod but still aren’t confident in your ability to lift yourself out of bed, so instead, Josh does it for you.  

He sits you on the edge of the bed where he helps you get out of your blood-stained pants.  

“Here,” he whispers, holding out a pair of his own baggy sweatpants for you to throw on.  

You take them and slide them on, wincing at the pain still radiating in your body.

“It hurts,” you whimper as Josh lifts you into his arms for the second time that night.

“I know baby,” he coos.  He carries you all the way out into the cool, brisk night, setting you down gently in the front seat of the car and speeding off towards the hospital.  The ride over is eerily quiet, because even though no one wants to say it, you both know what has happened.  

Sure enough, under the fluorescent lights of the hospital room you’re assigned to, the doctor is giving his most sincere apologizes after telling you that you have in fact, miscarried.

The word hits like a ton of bricks.  It physically hurts when he says it.  

But it’s nothing compared to the way Josh breaks when he hears it.  

You stare ahead, dressed in a hospital gown and sitting straight up in bed.  Josh all but collapses onto the bed, grabbing your hand and sobbing into the sheets.  

You continue to stare at the wall in front of you, but can’t help your face scrunching up in pain at the sound of his cries.  You hurt him.  Again.  

Josh squeezes your hand across the center console the entire ride home.  He’s here, physically grabbing onto you, but you feel so far away.  So distant from it all.  

You don’t even wait for him to help you out of the car once you’ve arrived home.  Instead, you gather up enough energy to just do it yourself.   You can’t bare to look at his sad gaze any longer.  

He’s right behind you though, catching up on the steps and planting his hand on the base of your back.  

“Easy,” he whispers, but you don’t respond.  You grip the railing and haul yourself into the house.  

“We can try again,” he says as Josh kneels beside you in bed later that night.  The covers are wrapped tightly around you.  You nod slightly, but it’s only to entertain Josh.  

Finally, he gets up and walks out of the room, and you’re left with nothing but your haunting thoughts.

When someone dies, people light candles and have memorial services.  There’s funerals and closure.  People hang pictures up on the wall or get a necklace with their initials on it.  But how do you mourn someone who was never actually born?  How do you process the death of someone you never actually knew, but loved so much?

You spend the day laying around the house.  You ignore phone calls and the news and the weather and even Josh.  You couldn’t look at him, not with the guilt you felt inside.  You spend the majority of the day staring at the empty wall, hating yourself and everything around you.  You hated your body and the stupid doctor who gave you the news, both good and bad.  You hated this house and the baby’s room down the hall.  You even hated Josh.  You wait for him to leave you, to admit he finally hated you.  You kept playing the scenario out in your head where he’d finally admit that you just weren’t the girl for him.  

The next day, Josh asked you if you wanted him to stay home from work.  You shook your head.

“Are you sure?” he asks.  “It’s just recording, we can reschedule.”

“No, I’m fine,” you assure him, the lie thick on your tongue.  

“Call me if you need anything,” he whispers, planting a soft kiss on your temple.  “I love you.”

You nod and give him a reassuring smile, it’s exhausting.  

JOSH’S POV

I shouldn’t have gone to work that day, that much was certain.  Y/N was all I could think about at the studio and all the recordings turned out to be shit because of it.  The thought of her sitting home by herself after the tragedy of yesterday was crippling.  

“You okay, man?” Tyler asks finally.  

“Yeah—“ I lie, “I’m fine.”

The last two days had been anything but fine.  But I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.  

Just then, my phone starts ringing in my pocket and I jump at the sound.  I take it out, and see Y/N’s smiling face light up the screen.  My heart sinks and I slide to answer.

“Y/N?”

“Josh—“ she croaks.

“What’s wrong?”

I hear her fighting off the tears.  

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

“No— I need you… I need you to come home,” she gasps.  

“It’s okay,” I try to soothe her.  “Baby, it’s okay, I’m on my way.”

I stay on the phone with her until I’m in my car, speeding her way.  When I rush through the door, I call her name.  My heart pounds in my chest as I run upstairs.

She’s crouched on the bathroom floor, grabbing her stomach.  There’s a pool of blood beneath her.  

YOUR POV

Josh stands before you with pain plastered over his face.  You let out another cry as the pain radiating inside of you wouldn’t subside.

“It hurts,” you sob.

Josh rushes to your side, helping you stand up.  You didn’t even notice the blood until you glance down.  The sight of it just makes you panic even more.  You cry harder at the physical sight of your unborn baby.

Josh keeps his arm securely around you and helps you step out of your dirty clothes.  He’s going to run out of sweatpants at the rate that he lends them to you, but the baggy fit feels way more comfortable.  

“It hurts,” you repeat.  The pain in your abdomen is from the miscarriage.  You know this.  The doctor warned you of further pain.  

“I know baby,” he whispers.  You’re sitting on the edge of the bed and Josh is kneeling in front of you.  He cups the side of your face with his hand, gently wiping away some of the tears.

You’re right, the pain is bad.  But the tears welling up stem from a much deeper place than pain.  The tears come from guilt and the sorrow you feel.  The tears are you breaking in half.  

“I’m so sorry,” you manage to gasp out between sobs.

Josh tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him.

“I’m sorry Josh—“

But Josh is shaking his head, arguing against you.

“I’m sorry I did this, I’m sorry I can’t give you a baby—“

“Y/N, stop, shh—“ he whispers, “Stop, I love you.  Baby, it’s not your fault.”

By now you’ve erupted into a pool of sobs and tears.  Josh sits up on the bed beside you, pulling you into his lap entirely.

“Stop, this isn’t your fault.”

He rocks with you back and forth like a small child.  

“I love you so much,” he whispers, “It’s not your fault. I love you.”

Josh rests his head on yours and speaks soothing words to you while you weep.  Soon, your sobs turn to whimpers and before you know it, Josh has you cradled on the bed, laying down.  You’re curled into his chest and he’s holding you tight.  

Suddenly, you realize you were wrong.  There was no distance between you and Josh.  He was right here.  You could hear his heartbeat.  And the world was unfair and cruel and unimaginably dark right now.  But laying here, with tears falling town your face and Josh’s arms wrapped around you, you knew you weren’t alone.  

You let your head fall back against Josh’s chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the warmth of his skin pressed against yours.  You held on, because what other choice did you have?  Baby or no baby, it was still you and Josh.  And it always would be.  

Always Here, Forever Yours (Philip Hamilton x Reader)

Masterlist

Request Queue

Warnings- almost cheating and some light sexualness, not really smut but ya know

Requests- 

“can u do a one shot where yn just got in a fight w any character that she was dating and so her best friend philip ham took her out to get drinks and take her mind off of everything cause she was sad and she tried to kiss him and he tells her no and that that’s not what she wants cause she’s drunk and he doesn’t want to take advantage of her so he takes her home and just keeps her company and when she wakes up he’s on the couch and she thanks him and shit ty love u and ur brilliant writing 💗💗”

“Can you do something with Laurens or Philip trying to comfort/cheer up a girl when she’s having a depressive episode please? I could really use it <3″

“hi! i was wondering if you could write a philip imagine where he calms reader after the reader gets in a fight with her family?”

A/N- (It’s not her family but the two fics would have been way too similar otherwise)

Song- Say You Won’t Let Go – James Arthur

Words- 2,027

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anonymous asked:

What are some of your favorite outfits Alex has worn? Not including stage outfits

I’m sorry I’m just answering this now but I started doing it and then forgot about it for awhile and then just remembered it and it’s been in my drafts for so long I’m so sorry!! I’m finally doing this now.

So here are some of my favourite outfits/looks (excluding stage outfits)

White shirt + leather jacket
Whenever he wears a white button down shirt I die a little. Combined with tight black jeans or those amazing grey slacks, black boots and a leather jacket, that’s probably my favourite look.

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