keep on touching each other's quicks

“It won’t hold!” Even says, mild frustration in his voice as he tries to get the yellow flower to hold in Isak’s hair.

“Your ears are too weird.” Even put his tongue in the corner of his mouth, eyes focused on the flower and hands moving away very slowly when he finally got it to stay in place.

“Excuse me,” Isak huffs offended “I have the best ears! My ears are made for flowers.”

Even lowers his hands to his side, shifting his gaze from the flower to Isak’s green eyes and raises his brows.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” there is a fond and wide smile spreading over Isak’s face. He grabs for Even’s hand without needing to look down. Interlocking their fingers.

Even’s lips turn to the side with a smile as he tries to keep a straight face, nodding his agreement. Isak belly fills with warmth at the way Even looks at him. He moves half a step closer to Even (more was not possible, with every breath their chests now touched then and again) and tilts his head back to keep looking at Even.

Isak leans in for a quick but soft peck. How the hell do you make even monday mornings great? They keep smiling at each other for a minute, until Isak voices that question out loud.

Even laughs, turns his face away and back again the way he does, dipping a bit in the knees as he does. They are alone at the tram stop so Isak wraps his free arm around Even’s waist, nuzzling his recovered nose with his boyfriend’s. Even lets out a pleased hum.

“Hmm I missed that.”

Isak smiles even wider at that, cheeks almost hurting from it, bc me too. He nods, which bumps their noses together again. 

“Evi?” He asks, swinging their entwined hands gently back and forth. At the inquisitive sound Even lets out he continues: “I love you.”

Quick kaisoo analysis

  1. Jongin doesn’t call bff Taemin jagi
  2. He is openly affectionate and touchy with taemin in public but he seems scared to touch kyungsoo in any way that could be perceived like more than friends. He has nothing to hide with taemin.
  3. A certain company(y'all know)likes to promote taekai’s friendship but they try to keep kyungsoo and kai as far as possible from each other during fanmeets or interviews……
  4. For some weird reason suho gets really nervous when Kai and kyungsoo interact. If they were just friends suho wouldn’t be so paranoid everytime kai and kyungsoo did something together.
  5. Kai finds it uncomfortable to show his affection or talk to kyungsoo in interviews. As seen in the 2016 exo the star interview. He got all nervous and started rubbing his ears when kyungsoo asked him something.
Type of Kisses Prompts: Week Three

The idea goes out to the rightful owners/owner. I saw these on pinterest and thought it’d be fun to do. So go ahead and send me a number with a person!!. 

1.Post Break Up Kiss: 

The kiss that catches both of you off guard, but says I miss you, I’m sorry and please love me again all at once without any words being spoken. 

2.Early Morning Kiss: 

A kiss that’s a wake up call, its barely even lips touching, more like they’re kissing your chin because they’re so tired in the early morning haze. 

3.Hesitant Kiss: 

The type of kiss where their lips touch a brush against each other’s a few times, breath fanning across each other’s faces as one waits for the other to make a move. 

4.In The Moment Kiss: 

Maybe it’ in the middle of an argument or you just looked to damn beautiful not to kiss, but their lips were not against yours and it felt too good to stop. 

5.Can’t Let Go Yet Kiss: 

The type of goodbye kiss when you keep leaving quick peaks on each other’s lips, but end up pulling back for one more, which could go on for hours if one of you don’t finally pull away. 

6.Empty Kiss: 

When one of you don’t kiss back, just the stoic feeling of their lips on yours, it’s empty, like no one even cares anymore

7.Unbreakable Kiss: 

The type of kiss that really shouldn’t be happening, it’s a mistake, but you just can’t find yourself able to pull away. 

8.Breathtaking Kiss: 

It’s the kiss that you can’t do anything for a few seconds after, you keep your eyes closed with mouth agape of you trying to let your mind process what happened. 

9.Distracting Kiss: 

When you are competing, maybe playing video games or something so you press kisses anywhere available; arms, nose, knees,ears,knucles,temple,just anywhere to distract them.

10.Quick Goodbye kiss: 

It’s the almost late for work kisses, when their lips just peck yours, like an unfinished goodbye 

Darkness Devours

Summary:  Reader has been in Purgatory for a few years surviving as best she can with her companion Benny.

Characters: Reader, Dean, Benny, Castiel (mentioned)

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2429

Warnings: SMUT, canon typical violence, canon typical angst

A/N 1:  I have a MAJOR Purgatory!Dean problem.  This quote from the show:  “It was blood, messy….  But there was something about being there… it felt pure.”  His pure and raw approach to hunting while there obviously made me think about what his approach to sex would be while there.  I mean look at this, how can your mind go anywhere else?

 

A/N 2:  Bolded text denotes dialogue from the show, credit goes to the writers.

Above gif is from Google Search.  Gif below is from @canonspngifs   The rest are from Google Search, credit goes to the owners.

 

Dean’s well muscled chest is pressed against your back.  His fingers trace over the rise of your hips and the fall of your waist.  He plants wet, kisses down the column of your neck to your shoulder.

“I could stay here like this forever, Y/N,” he murmurs drawing the lobe of your ear between his lips.

“Mmm, me too,” you sigh.  “But I bet Sam would have something to say about that,” you roll towards him, running your fingers through his hair.

You look up at Dean, but the room’s changed and he’s standing in front of you.  His green eyes are full of sorrow as he steps closer to you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says, tears filling his eyes.

“I know,” you say looking away, “just make it quick.”

“I love you.”

Razor sharp pain slices across your throat…

You wake up with a start.

“Whoa, cher,” Benny coos, “we gotta move.  You ok?”

“I’m fine,” you say pushing yourself up.  “What time is it?”

“Almost dusk.”

You grab your blade, Benny offers you his hand, you take it and he pulls you up.  Together you make your way through the trees.  You spend the night on the move.  It’s safer to sleep during the day and be on your feet at night.  If it wasn’t for Benny, you would’ve been dead-dead a long time ago.  His hand is on the small of your back, a sigh escapes your lips at the safety and comfort it provides.

Keep reading

The Joker x Reader - “Apart”

When you sent him the invitation to your wedding, you didn’t actually expect The Joker to show up. But here he is and now you have to deal with the situation; you are usually such a good actress, but…this is different. Very different.

“You came,” a smile appears on the corner of your lips as J gets out of the car and the valet takes it away, leaving your ex in front of you with a wide smirk on his face.

“Of course I came, I wouldn’t miss this now, would I?” he opens his arms and you go to give him a quick hug. “Hi, Doll,” he quickly pecks your cheek and you hold him for a few more seconds before breaking the embrace. You didn’t spoke or touch each other in about half a year.  

You take a deep breath, analyzing him and start walking up the stairs towards the mansion while you try to keep the conversation going without getting awkward:

“You still look the same J,” you state the obvious and he snickers, amused.

“I never change; you should know that by now. Would you look at this place,” he struggles to impress himself. “It’s a fortress, took me a while to find it. At least I know my girl is well taken care of, hm?”

“I’m…I’m not your girl anymore,” you whisper, brushing off the weirdness of his statement, but you know he just talks like this all the time anyway.

“Right, thanks for the reminder,” he elbows you, scoffing, and you ignore what he just said and point towards the huge property, excited:

“Let me give you a tour.”

“Where is the groom- to-be? Can’t wait to meet him; he’d better make you happy otherwise he will have to deal with me,” he keeps on yammering and you take his arm, not reacting to the last part of his tirade, guiding him through the maze of the outdoor gardens.

“He is away with business; he will be back in two days for the wedding. You’re the first guest to arrive, the rest are coming tomorrow.”

“You sure hired a lot of people for the event, Pumpkin. I can tell it’s going to be a huge wedding.”

“It will be,” you giggle, watching everybody running around, setting up flowers and the humongous tent where the gathering will happen.

“Wow, I already like it, no expense was spared,” The Joker addresses you, witnessing a few things coming together in a very nice way.

“Miss Y/N,” someone approaches, “do you want more red roses or pink ones?”

“Red,” J answers and it pleases you. “It’s her favorite color.” You also nod a yes and the guy walks away, trying to count how many more to add now. “Who else is coming?” he asks, frowning when a waiter passes you by in a hurry. “ I don’t like the way that man looked at you, want me to take care of it?”

You start laughing, caressing his shoulder.

“Noooo, lets’ not do that, it’s all good.”

It surprises you how much effort you put into trying not to look nervous, you are usually such a good actress, but…this is somewhat different.

“A lot of people will come, you know some of them,” you show him the guest list on a nearby table. “Don’t worry, you’ll seat next to me so you don’t really have to small talk with the others too much. I know you hate that.”

“I sure do,” he grins, kissing your hand and you sigh, continuing to pace alongside him in perfect silence for a few moments.

“Oh, no, it’s starting to rain,” you point out, looking at the gloomy clouds. “Thank goodness the tent is up so it won’t rain inside; they can still continue to decorate, it really needs to be finished by tomorrow night. Let’s go in the mansion, I’ll show you what we got.”

*******************

As soon as he steps in and sees the crystal chandelier he looks in your eyes, puckering his lips:

“Same one we have at the penthouse!”

We had,” you correct him but The Joker didn’t get the fact you were referring to his statement involving the two of you. Or maybe he pretended.

“No, it’s still there, Doll. You always had good taste in decorating so I kept it.”

“That’s nice,” you avert your gaze, feeling your cheeks getting warm.

You walk him around, explaining what’s what, just like a well learned lesson.

“I’ll be damned,” he stops, stunned. “You kept it?!”

The enormous painting you two snatched from Gotham’s art museum two years ago is the centerpiece in the living room. He didn’t want to go because he couldn’t care less about stuff like that but in the end you convinced him to steal it together. You had it at the penthouse until…you left and took it with you. Now it’s here.

“You know how much I love it, Mister J,” you tease him by calling his full name, which you only did when he got in trouble. “I could never get rid of it.”

“I can understand that; I know your mind gets set on something and then you don’t let go,” he mocks, starting to walk upstairs.

*********************

“And, ummm… this is the master bedroom,” you present it, a bit uncomfortable.

“It’s so you, Y/N, I can see it everywhere. Look at the bed, reminds me of the one we have at the penthouse,” he points towards it and you fix his mistake:

We had.”

“No, it’s still there,” he continues and you are still not sure if he really doesn’t get what you’re saying, but you don’t want to insist on the issue. No point really.

“I wonder if…You do have a mirror here too!” he sits on the bed, looking up and sure it’s there. He lies down on the pillows, gesturing you to come by him and you humor him. “Remember ours?”

You scoot over by him, smiling and grab his hand, looking up at the mirror too.

“Yes, fun times. We had our moments, right?” you have to agree, turning your head towards him.

“U-hum,” he replies, taking your fingers to his lips and kissing them, absent minded. You squirm under his touch and have to break the spell J apparently is unaware he still holds upon you.

“Why did you push me away?” you suddenly ask, squeezing his hand tighter.

“I push everybody away, it doesn’t mean that’s my intent,” he replies and for once he sounds sincere.

“Hey, wanna see my wedding dress?” you hurry and get up, heading towards the walk in closet.

“Might as well,” he lifts his shoulders up, resigned. He doesn’t really want to see it but he can’t upset you now that you are finally on speaking terms again. It takes you about 10 minutes to get ready and step outside, anxious for his reaction.

“My God, Princess, you look so beautiful,” he has to admit, jumping from the bed, coming to meet you in the middle of the room. “Turn around,” The Joker suggests and you slowly spin so he can see your gorgeous dress. “I really like the gown, it suits you.”

“Thank you,” you mumble, playing around with the delicate fabric because you feel edgy.

“My Princess always looks beautiful anyway,” he unravels his silver teeth, chuckling.

“I’m…I’m not your Princess anymore J,” you step towards him, fighting with all the feelings inside of you.

“You’ll always be my Princess,” he simply states and then rolls his eyes. “Come on, you’re gonna cry on me? You know I always talk like this,” he makes fun of you, seeing your lips quivering but has to admit something makes him uneasy.

Fuck it all, you think, deciding on the spot and go kiss him which surprises The Joker and in the same time it doesn’t.

I’m not sure if I like diamonds anymore,” you clearly enunciate and he freezes with his hands around your waist.

This is the phrase you two decided to use when you were together as a warning for grave danger, just in case you couldn’t say anything else and you wanted the other to know something is up without getting busted.

“Well, that’s a first, Doll,” he lets you go, understanding someone is listening, carefully looking around as you put your finger on your lips, signaling him to be quiet. You point towards the corners of the room, quickly scribbling on a piece of paper that you stash in his pocket.

“Yes, I am so bored with diamonds these days,” you try to control your voice from breaking and you hug him tight, barely whispering in his ear:
“Run! A left, two rights around the stairs. Don’t take the car, just run!” and you drag him towards the door, peeking outside to make sure nobody is passing by. He has such an intrigued expression on his face and you cover his mouth, shaking your head as a no.

“Ssstttt,” you soundlessly shush him. “Don’t let anybody see you, they’re all undercover! Go!” you whisper one last time before pushing him away and he doesn’t linger anymore but signals you to follow.

You mutter a NO, watching him walk as he turns around one more time to see you in your wedding dress. He takes the corner and he’s gone.

What the hell is going on? The Joker wonders, carefully sneaking around, hiding behind a wall so he can read the piece of paper you placed in his pocket:

“I’m not at Arkham or Belle Reve, not sure where. Warn as many as you can not to come. After you get out, keep left under the trees until you get to the main road. Don’t let them catch you.”

***********************

It was a difficult break up, at least as far as you were concerned. You got sick and tired of everything and left because he didn’t seem to give a damn anyway. You were on your own for about a month when you got ambushed during a heist and couldn’t escape. You were taken to a place you haven’t been before and they were sure thrilled to see they got The Joker’s girlfriend; well, ex, but you didn’t tell them that part; they found out on their own.

You were sentenced to 40 years in prison but offered a deal: if you help the Secret Service catch the elusive Clown Prince of Crime and many others, your verdict will be reduced to only 10 years. It was such a sweet deal and they spared no effort in planning the perfect stakeout: for 3 months they put everything together, using your fake wedding as the bait: they wanted to get as many most wanted criminals as possible with minimum casualties, away from the public eye on that hidden property, rehearsing day and night to make everything seem like the real deal. They knew many would come to the occasion if you invite them. And you agreed, sure hoping J won’t show up. When he did, you didn’t want to care but things didn’t go as planned. You and your stupid feelings for him; you always pay for them no matter what.

***************************

Of course the deal went sour and they retaliated for what you did: your sentence changed to life in prison and you weren’t treated nicely, to say the least. You had days when you regretted your stupid decision, crying yourself to sleep in the dark, cold cell. And some days were better, hoping he might find you and get you out of there. Hours, weeks, months and then two years passed with heartbreaking solitude and doubt, and you finally realized The Joker will never save you.  Even if you helped that day, knowing him he probably hated you with passion after tricking him with that well devised scheme and he is not the one to forgive such transgression. Or maybe he just can’t find the location. You tried to cope but the thought of never getting out of there was slowly driving you insane. How you missed the outside world and the freedom of doing what you please.

And you missed him…You couldn’t get out of your mind that last time he looked at you. You wanted so badly to run with him, but had to stay behind to hold them up, pretending he’s still there for a while to give him enough time to flee…Like he appreciated the sacrifice…Too late now for remorse, yet you can’t hide from yourself.

You slowly chew on your bread, deep in thought, sitting on the mattress, examining your skinny hands. You got so much thinner due to the special menu and treatment you were subjected in the last two years. Fit for a Queen, as they like to laugh at you.

“Oh, great,” you pull out the piece of plastic out of your mouth, unnerved you are always given such disgusting food. This is where you usually stop eating, nauseated at the crap you find in the meals. You glance at it for a second before wanting to toss it on the floor when you notice something.

You have to bring it really close to your eyes since you are not allowed to wear your contacts.  

I’m here. Cover your ears,” you read and gasp, dumbfounded, having a hard time processing what just happened.

The loud explosion to the right wall of your cell throws you to the ground and your ears start ringing .You struggle to get up, covered in dust and debris, stumbling to keep your balance, dizzy from the blast.

You stare at the gap in your wall, seeing so many bodies moving around on the other side, not knowing what to do.

“Would you hurry up, woman?! I don’t have all day!” you hear the familiar voice and J creeps inside your prison, coughing and trying to move the flying ashes out of his way.

You can’t even move and stare at him wearing your favorite suit, starting to cry in a frenzy.

He sighs and comes in front of you, his blue gaze going up and down your body, growling when he realizes how scrawny you are.

“So you didn’t get married, hm?” he bites on his lip and you barely manage to utter, whimpering:

“N-no…” and you continue bawling , rushing in his arms and he hugs you, taking each other in for a few seconds. “You…you look the same,” you cry your eyes out on his shoulder, hoping you are not hallucinating from the meds.

“I never change, you should know that by now,” he purrs in your hair, ecstatic he found you. He’s been looking forever; my God you were well locked away or what?!

“Sir, we need to get out of here, they’re coming!” one of the mercenaries yells and J lifts you up in his arms, carrying you outside. The sun hits you and you hide your face in his chest, wincing in pain.

“My eyes,” you complain, wiping your tears and slowly readjusting to natural light, fastly blinking to make it better. “You can put me down, I think I can walk,” you turn his face towards you so you can see him.

“Queens don’t walk,” he grumbles, kissing your forehead, continuing to carry you.

“I really missed you,” you confess on the verge of crying again. “I thought you will never come.”

“Meh, I was bored staring at that chandelier all day,” he tries to joke and you sense his hands holding you tighter.

You sniffle, smiling for the first time in so many months and ask when he looks down at you:

We still have it?”

We do,” The Joker answers, walking faster as all hell breaks loose behind him.

 Also read: MASTERLIST:

http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

IwaOi soccer player au: Forward(striker)!Iwaizumi and goalkeeper(also captain)!Oikawa

  • Their ritual before every game includes them holding each other’s face, forehead touching while cheering the other up, ending with a simultaneous slap to the other’s back. 
  • Iwa’s signature goal celebration is an air fist pump with Oikawa, which turns into a (very curt and quick) air kiss to Oikawa after they start dating. 
  • Both of them become extremely flustered (face all red or eye averted, Oikawa’s face sometimes hidden behind his gloves) every time Iwa does so. Their teammates and fans enjoy way too much at this interaction. 
  • Hanamaki once teases Iwa for keeping doing something that embarrassing himself so much. Iwa only replies “it just feels right.
  • They finally get more at ease with all the “public display of affection” after they get married, when Iwa’s goal celebration becomes a kiss to his ring finger (without a ring on the field for safety reasons) and Oikawa always mirrors it.  
“You know I can’t keep my hands to myself”

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT 

Whenever you were around each other you were never more than a few inches apart at most. You craved each others touch, even if it was just his hand in yours or your legs draped over his as you lazed around on the odd day off, it didn’t take much. Your fingers were always intertwined over the centre console of the car, even if you were only go for a quick trip to the market, it was just your way of showing that you enjoyed each other company. You’d deny him your touch out of sheer pettiness following the very rare argument you’d get into, always soliciting a playful “Heeeeyyyy, not fair” from him which always made you crack, bringing a smile back to your face, forgetting whatever small thing you fought about. Having him close to you in stressful circumstances and feeling his touch always made a huge difference, a reassuring squeeze of the hand or a quick kiss on the forehead never failing to calm you down. When he was mad, your touch was the one thing that could always calm him down, he’d melt into it, letting go of all the anger. Although sometimes it took a little more convincing. 

The day had been great, perfect even, you’d spent the day together just lounging around in your flat laying on top of each other on your all too small couch, watching Friends reruns and all the rom-com classics you both loved. It was calm, relaxing and most importantly it was just the two of you, no crowds, no distractions, no interruptions, it was perfect. The flaw however came in the form of a last minute trip to Tesco for some much needed junk food refills. You were wandering up and down the sweets isle, both indecisive about what you were in the mood for, “I kinda want Malteasers but I also kind of want just some plain Cadbury Dairy Milk” Harry debated with himself for a few more moments before throwing his hands up in defeat declaring it was your choice because it was too hard. You giggled, poking him in the stomach before grabbing both packets “You realise you are an adult and have the money to buy both right? Why choose when you can satisfy both needs!” he laughed, nodding his head, “true true”. 

You’d grabbed his hand, pulling him into the next aisle looking for some tortilla chips and salsa when you heard an unmistakable gasp from behind you both. It was pretty common, a gasp, then the inevitable “omg are you Harry Styles?”, neither of you minded stopping for photos and a little chat, most people were incredibly friendly and polite, although not on this occasion. You turned around to find two girls, both looked about 19, maybe 20, dressed rather revealingly for a Tuesday night but hey who were you to judge? They approached the two of you, eyes fixated on Harry. “Omg we’re such big fans of you! Your album is amazing! We saw you in London last year oh my god it was amazing” Harry smiled, he was always happy to hear that people enjoy his shows, he’d always put 110% into every show “I’m glad you had fun, do you guys want a picture?” he said, noticing that one of them already had the camera open on her phone. “I can take it if you want?” you offered, expecting a ‘yes please’ but instead one of them turned to look at you, a disgusted look on her face as she looked you up and down before spitting a “Um no thanks” towards you. Instantly the mod changed, you could see Harry stiffen, just a shocked as you were. You decided to just blow it off knowing that in a few moments you’d never see either of them again. That was until one the other one rolled her eyes before adding “also can you move, we don’t want you in the background of the picture. You’ll ruin it”. It was then that Harry had had enough “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak to my girlfriend like that, its really rude” he was visibly pissed off and rightfully so, he didn’t stand for anyone treating the people he loved badly. “She’s just with you for the money you know that right? Like it’s so obvious!” Those words hurt. You had never been with him for the money or any other materialistic reason, in fact you offered to pay for anything you could, whether it be dinner or groceries or petrol even if you were taking a road trip to see family or friends and although on most occasions Harry would insist on paying you’d just flat out refuse and swipe your card before he could say anything else. Harry was completely done by that point, if it were possible steam would be billowing out his ears like in a cartoon “Actually on second thought I’m not really in the mood to take pictures, come on babe, lets go” he grabbed your hand, both of you leaving behind the two dumbfounded girls who were obviously angry “God what a bitch!” one of them huffed, before they both stormed away in the opposite direction, no doubt spreading an altered version of what just happened on a twitter page somewhere. 

Harry was still fuming as you climbed back into the car, throwing the bags into the back seat. “I can’t stand people like that! How can some people be so rude? Don’t believe anything they say baby, its not true, you and I both know that”  one hand was gripping the steering wheel although he hadn’t bothered to turn on the ignition, the other gripping your hand a little too tight. “Harry, don’t worry I don’t listen to jealous bitches like those two. They’re gone and they didn’t get what they wanted anyway which was a picture with you so who is the real winner here hey?” you said wrapping both of your wands around his, rubbing soothing circles into his palm. “I just can’t get over how rude they were to you” you could tell it would take a little more than just holding his hand to get him to calm down. It wasn’t the first fan encounter that had ended like this although today had hit him extra hard because it had ruined your nearly perfect day. “Harry, baby, look at me” he turned in his seat, his eyes meeting yours before you leaned in, placing a tender kiss on his flushed lips. You could feel him relax into the kiss before he deepened it. He was savouring your touch, your lips on his, the only thing that could calm him down in times like this. “God I love you so much” he said, breathlessly pulling away from the kiss. “I love you too, always” you replied, “Now come on lets go, we can continue this at home” you winked. With that he started the car and he pulled out of the carpark, his hand in yours the whole ride home. 

He pulled into the drive way, parking the car haphazardly in out the front of the block of flats before jumping out and grabbing the groceries, although the second the front door closed behind you both the groceries were tossed on the floor and his arms were wrapped around your waist, his needy lips back on yours once again. “Come on baby” he smirked, taking you by the hand before jogging towards the bedroom. He was already hot and bothered, as were you, already working at removing each others clothes. He was in his boxers, very obviously aroused, you however were still in your t shirt, your lacy underwear only just visible. “Baby take it off, please, I need you” his voice was strained as he lusted over you. You bit your lip, sliding the t shirt up agonisingly slow, swinging your hips just slightly, teasing him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to take it, and you were right, within two seconds he was up off the bed again, throwing your shirt across the room before lifting you up in a passionate kiss, laying you down on the disheveled bed, “Sorry baby, you know I can’t keep my hands to myself” he smirked. He was immediately on top of you, hands tangled in your hair, before starting to slide them down your neck and over your chest. Removing your bra in one quick movement, he began kneading the soft skin of your breasts, a moan unintentionally leaving your lips as a sign for him to keep going, he then continued to trace his fingers down your torso, moving painfully slow down across your hips, eventually reaching the place where you were desperately needing him. He slid your underwear down your legs, tossing them across the room before doing the same with his own, placing his arms either side of you, lining himself up. “God you’re so beautiful baby, you ready?” you were now the one hot and bothered, a knowing smirk on his lips. All you could do was nod, “please Harry, I need you” you panted and he did just as you wanted, bringing himself in. You moaned, feeling yourself stretch around him, the euphoria instantaneous. He started to speed up, his head rolling back in absolute pleasure. It was incredible. You wrapped your arms around his back, nails digging into the soft skin, surely leaving a mark, before you could do anything else his lips were back on yours for one more moment before his pace began to slow again “Babe.. I need.. I can’t hold on” you were reaching your high too “Don’t worry baby, just go, i’ll go with you” and with a final few thrusts you both hit your peaks, complete and utter pleasure over taking both of you. His kissed you once again before collapsing on the bed next to you, the both of you coming down off your highs. “You know I love you right?” Harry said, wrapping his arms around your waist once again before nuzzling his face into your neck, pulling you close to him. “I know baby, you know that I love you too right?” you could feel him smile into your neck, “Yes I do, I was just checking that you knew too” he placed one last kiss on your neck before his eyes fluttered closed, as did yours. The day had been mending, now perfect once again, ending where it started, together, you in his arms, happy and content. 


Ok lovelies here is another instalment of ‘The Words You Speak” series! Sorry it took me so long to get it out to you guys, I’ve been super busy lately! I hope you enjoyed the cheeky ending, you guys seemed to really enjoy the first one I put up and that had a little bit of fun in it too! I’m not the best at writing that sort of thing though so I hope its ok! As always requests are open, shoot me a message if you want! Thanks for reading guys! 

E xxxxx

The College Years - Sophomore Year (Chapter 37) - Stiles Stilinski

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “The Šurpu”

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Isaac Lahey, Malia Tate, Zachary Pillit, Mason Hewitt, Liam Dunbar & Reader/OFC

Author’s Note: This played out in my head like an episode of Teen Wolf and it makes me love it so much because of that, I hope that’s how it reads. Also, I was in the shower before I wrote this chapter and I almost got out with conditioner stilll in my hair just to get down the conversations before I forgot them… the things I am willing to do for this series.

Summary: Four days before the full moon, nearing the beginning of August, Y/n, Liam, Malia, Scott and Zachary gather at the Beacon Hills High gymnasium with a plot to lure and destroy the rabisu, using the Šurpu, an ancient incantation that could be the key to finally ridding Beacon Hills of the archaic demons.

Chapter Thirty-Six - Chapter Thirty-Seven - Chapter Thirty-Eight

Originally posted by fandoms-broke-my-life

“You okay?” Scott asked, gently rubbing your shoulder, as you both walked through the halls of his old high school, heading towards the gym.

You kept up with Scott’s pace and adjusted the tote bag over your shoulder. You glanced over at Scott and looked down at the sleeping bag in your left hand and the pillow shoved under your arm. You sighed. “I’m….. really scared.” You finally admitted to your Alpha.

“Yea, I am too. I keep thinking, like, what if we can’t actually get rid of these things? What happens to Beacon Hills? It’s been hard enough keeping people contained to their houses at night for just a month. People will leave and Beacon Hills will become a ghost town. Plus the last time we fought something like this, it was the Oni and Allison died… I’m just nervous.” Scott worried out loud.

You contorted your face to the side as you set down your backpack, sleeping bag, and pillow in the middle of the basketball court in the gym of Beacon Hills High School. “Somehow, I hadn’t even thought of any of that.” You said with some agitation.

“Uh… that was not meant to add any extra pressure or freak you out more…”

“And yet…” You pursed your lips and widened your eyes at Scott.

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Anon: One-shot request: Bucky reads your diary and finds out you have torn feelings between your boyfriend (him) and some other guy and maybe cheating. Angst and some fluff <3

TITLE: Dear Diary
CHAPTER NO/ONE SHOT: One shot
AUTHOR: Admin RCN
WORD COUNT: 1379
ORIGINAL IMAGINE: N/A
NOTES/WARNINGS: *Rubs hands together* let the angst begin!


Bucky had a content smile on his face as he tidied up your shared bedroom. You had been working extremely hard lately and had been on a mission for the last three weeks so he wanted you to come home to a nice, tidy apartment. He even went as far to hoover the sofa and put a tea spoon of vanilla in the oven so that the entire house smelt fresh and clean.

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Blue Eyes; II

Blue Eyes; I

Levi’s tears vanish but Erwin’s blue eyes don’t - when Levi attends junior high school and meets those eyes again, in the hallway, everything’s overwhelming - he wonders, if Erwin remembers his eyes too.

He learns that Erwin’s family came back, just this semester, not knowing if Levi’s family had moved. It’s awkward, Erwin’s so tall suddenly, his voice is different too, but his eyes are the same - Levi reads past adventures in their depth.

They spend time again, meet outside or at Erwin’s home - it’s normal, they’re friends, surely nothing more - Levi tells himself.

Except for how quick Levi’s heart’s beating whenever they meet, when Erwin smiles, touches Levi’s shoulder or says “wow, I’m proud of you” when Levi passes that exam he was so afraid of - all because of Erwin’s help.

They watch movies, play video games and study together - Levi stays one night, sleeps in Erwin’s bed, Erwin on the floor - neither of them falls asleep. At home, Levi doesn’t wash the shirt he slept in, keeps it in his own bed, because it smells like Erwin.

A few weeks later, when Levi stays overnight again, they fall asleep next to each other on Erwin’s bed, when Levi wakes up, Erwin’s hand’s on his - Levi closes his eyes and doesn’t go back to sleep.

When everything’s dark, when it’s loud at home - Levi thinks of him, sees magical stones and leaves and a blue so warm he’ll melt under its gaze.

No Control | Chapter Twelve

Summary: 

Micky Bennett: college student, loyal friend, aspiring nurse, One Direction fan, Harry Styles enthusiast. Her best friend, Trevor, wins tickets to a show in New Jersey with meet and greet passes. Micky expects a quick photo op with the boys and a great night at the concert with her best friend. What she gets a whole lot more than she bargained for.

To read previous chapters, you can go here.

*Please feel free to reblog and send feedback. It’s much appreciated :)*

*Gif is not mine.*

TWELVE

It’s only nine in the morning, so we decide to make the trip out to Manchester first. Figure we’ll start there and work our way back toward home as the day goes on. Georgie wants to do some shopping in the city and get something good for lunch, since we really only have small diners in Wilmslow. We’re at the shops for a few hours, window shopping and actual shopping. I make myself limit my purchases, since I only have so much room in my suitcase and I’m not paying for another checked bag on the flight back. 

Around noon I get a text from Trevor, checking in on me.

Hey, hoe. How was ur flight?
Good, got a nap in. Hanging out with Georgie in Manchester now.
Tell her I said hi and I miss her. Bring me back something cute from River Island, yeah?
Do u think I have River Island money?
I’ll wire u some cash.
Must be nice being a rich boy.
Speaking of rich boys, have u heard from Harold?
Not since Saturday.
Douche.
Hey, be nice. He’s busy, u know that.
Yeah, I know. Still. Could at least send u a text.
And I could just as easily text him, but I haven’t. Two way street, ya know?
So then y haven’t u?
Cuz I’m not expecting anything of him. Casual, remember?
Ur so full of shit. U know u still want his dick.
Of course I do, but he’s in America, most likely. Not much we can do with an ocean between us.
Isn’t he on a break? Could be back in the UK
Who goes to the UK for a week just to come back to America for a few months?
You.
Fuck off.
Love u too, bitch.
Goodbye Trevor
I’m serious about the clothes!
I know you are. I’ll send you pics.
Thanks boo!

I laugh and pocket my phone. 

“Who was that? Trev?” Georgie asks, already walking in the direction of the River Island store.

I nod. “Yeah, says hi, and he wants me to get him something from River Island.”

“Can this be the last store? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, I’ll get him a shirt or something then we can head to eat. I’m getting hungry, too.”

I have great luck in the shop, so I pick up a button up shirt in Trev’s size, see that he’s transferred a hundred bucks into my account, and make the purchase. The shirt’s only fifty bucks, so I text him to take the rest back, but he tells me it’s part of his dad’s monthly guilt allowance, so he leaves it. 

With the extra money, I take Georgie to a Red’s True Barbecue, because she has a weird obsession with American barbecue that I’ve never quite understood. She’s never actually been to America, but I described the ribs and pulled pork and coleslaw to her once, and she’s been hooked ever since. We obviously don’t have a barbecue place in Wilmslow, so Manchester or London are her only opportunities to get it, and it’s too expensive in London when she’s there for school.

It’s nearly two when we’re making our way back to our little town, and Georgie has let me drive again, claiming she’s still tired from her drive from London to Manchester over two months ago when she got done with school. I don’t mind though, because I genuinely do miss driving. It’s on our way back that Georgie grabs ahold of my left hand and jerks it into her view, nearly making me swerve into the next lane.

“Jesus! What are you doing?” I shout, trying to get my hand back. “You nearly made me wreck.” She won’t give my hand back, though, gripping my wrist tightly so I can’t put it back on the wheel.

“Where did you get this?” she asks, running her finger over Harry’s ring on my thumb.

I press my lips together and glance at her quickly before turning back to the road. 

“No!” she gasps out. “Are you fucking serious? He gave you one of his rings?”

I shrug, trying to play it off. “And a few of his shirts.”

“Micky Starr Bennett! How well did you exactly get to know this man?”

“I spent a few days with him, Georgie,” I tell her, finally getting my hand back to place on the wheel. “He’s really nice, and we got to know each other pretty well.”

“So you didn’t just spend all your time together in bed?”

“No, obviously not,” I huff. “We went out and did things, we talked, we hung out with Trevor and Harry’s bandmates. I actually spoke to the guy. We got to be friends.”

“I’d say a little more than friends who fuck if he’s giving you one of his rings.”

“He said he wanted me to have something to remember him by in case we never got to see each other again.”

“That’s disgustingly sweet, but hasn’t this guy ever heard of a mobile? They’re great at being able to keep in touch with people.”

As she finishes her sentence, my phone begins to ring in the cup holder between us, where I set it when I got in the car. I glance down quickly to see Harry’s name—which I did end up changing to Harry Edward for his contact—flash across the screen, as well as a photo we took together while we were at the museum, James Dean in the background. My stomach flutters at the sight, a quick reminder that my days with him actually happened and aren’t just a figment of my overactive imagination.

“Evidently, he does,” Georgie mumbles, astonished that he’s actually calling me. Honestly, I’m a little surprised, too, considering I haven’t heard from him since the day he left. I know he had a show in Ohio and then a short break, but I didn’t know much else.

“Can you answer it and put it on speaker, please?”

“You’re gonna talk to Harry Styles while I’m in the car?” she shrieks. “I’m not prepared to hear his voice, M.”

“Oh, shut it and just answer my phone, before it goes to voicemail, you freak.”

She shoots me a glare, but slides the little answer button and presses the button for speaker when it shows up.

“Hello,” I answer.

“Hiiiiii,” Harry draws out, making me smile at the low, honey-like tone of his voice. It’s only been a few days, and I haven’t realized how much I had missed the sound. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Harry, how are you?” I ask. Georgie lets out a small choking sound beside me, but thankfully it’s muffled by the sound of the tires on the road.

“Good, enjoying my days off before getting back on the road. Where are you? It sounds a little funny.”

“I’m on the road and I’ve got you on speaker.”

“Ooh, where you headed?” he asks.

“I’m actually on my way back to Wilmslow from Manchester. Spent the morning out there with my mate.”

There’s a few moments of pause in the conversation, and Georgie looks between me and the phone. I glance down with a furrowed brow to see if the call was dropped, but it says he’s still on the line.

I hear his throat clear on the other end, finally. “You’re in England?”

I nod, even though I realize he can’t see me. “Yeah, got some time off of research, so I booked a flight and came out here to spend time with my family before school starts back up. Just got in last night.”

“You’re in England?” he asks again.

I chuckle. “Yeah, Harry, that’s what I said. Where are you?” I ask mainly to change the subject so I don’t have to answer again.

“Holmes Chapel.”

I feel my eyebrows jump up on my forehead, and Georgie’s hand clamp down over my left bicep in shock. “Yeh serious?”

“Yeah, flew in yesterday morning. We all flew back to spend time with family.”

“Oh, wow,” I breathe out. “I suppose your mum’s glad to have you home.”

“Yeah, surprised her yesterday. She cried,” he chuckles. “What are you doing today?”

I look over at Georgie for ideas, but she shrugs and shakes her head. 

“Nothing. Just hanging out until my parents get home, I s’pose.”

“Can I see you?” 

“What? Today? I don’t have a car. I’m using my friend’s.” The possibility of seeing Harry again is making my heart race, but the reality that I don’t have a way to get to him when he’s only a half hour away is making it plummet. 

“I’ll drive out to see you. Mum’s out for a girl’s day anyway.”

“Harry, are you sure?”

He chuckles, and I can imagine him running his hand through his hair, pulling it back from his head. “Yeah. Kinda want to meet your parents anyway. They sound like proper legends.”

I groan at the thought of Harry meeting my parents. And then imagining my mum meeting Harry properly makes me groan even louder. Georgie stifles a laugh beside me, probably correctly guessing the scenarios being played out in my head.

“Oh, c’mon, love. I wanna see you. How long will your parents be out? I miss you, princess.” His tone drops to that gravelly voice he uses during sex to tease me when he won’t let me touch, and my stomach clenches. I have to refrain from rubbing my thighs together when he says, “I really need you to see you, Micky.”

I see Georgie’s eyebrows raise and she mouths, “Princess?” to me with a smirk. She’s biting on her fist to stop herself from laughing.

I clear my throat and clench my fists around the steering wheel. “Um, Harry. My friend’s still in the car.”

“Oh, fuck.” I hear some sort of shuffling. “Shit, sorry. We really have to stop talking about this shit over the phone.”

“Hey, you’re the one that always brings it up. And you’re the idiot who left his phone open on a table while you used the restroom.”

“Yeah, well you let me start talking while you’ve got me on speaker with your friend in the car.”

“I thought I had made that pretty obvious.”

He laughs. “Whatever. How much longer ’til you get home?”

“About half an hour.”

“Perfect, I’ll leave right now. Been pretty bored being home by myself. Waited all afternoon to call you so I’d catch you at a decent time for New York. Turns out I didn’t have to. Send me your address.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon, mister.”

“Bye, love. See you soon.”

Harry ends the call so that I don’t have to, and Georgie and I sit in the car in silence for a few moments, her gaze never leaving my face, which I keep pointedly towards the road.

“Princess, huh?” she finally asks, and I can hear the smirk in her voice. “Sounds a little bit like a sexual thing. Do you call him ‘Daddy?’” she asks over a chuckle, fully expecting me to deny it like she’s crazy.

I’ve never been able to lie to Georgie, however, and when I give her no response, she gasps.

“Oh, my God. You do! Holy shit. I don’t want to know. Kinky bastard.”


I have Georgie text Harry my address from my phone after we hang up, and listen to her babble some nonsense about texting the Harry Styles. I let her go on for about two minutes without saying anything, because this moment is definitely huge for our fifteen year old selves who only daydreamed about even getting to see the boys in person some day. Georgie had always been more of a Liam girl, but we could both appreciate the other boys, as well. 

The rest of the trip, she asks me about how Harry was like as a person, and she sighs dreamily when I tell her he’s even more kind and caring than we could have imagined. I tell her about his love of books and poetry and how we spent a few hours just talking about nothing and everything the first night we met (I leave out that the talking happened after we’d both gone down on each other, however). I tell her about getting to hang out with all four boys when we were out in New York and finding them even more endearing and amazing after the few hours we spent together. I ask her if she knew that Louis was going to be a dad, and I feel like an idiot when she says she already knew, but she assures me that it was in a lot more gossip rags in the UK than it was in the states. I still blame spending my whole summer in the lab with my eyes glued to slides under a microscope for my lack of knowledge.

When we pull up to my house, a black Range Rover, much like the one Paul drove in New York, is parked at the curb. The windows are tinted pretty dark, so I can’t see inside, but I know that it’s Harry, most likely messing about on his phone to pass the time. I see him open his door as I park and turn off Georgie’s car, a smile splitting across my face. He looks good and very much like the uni boy he wants to be in his dark wash jeans with rips at the knees, dark brown leather boots, plain dark blue t-shirt and a pair of sunnies. He slips his mobile in his pocket and smiles as I throw open the door, skipping down the drive to meet him.

Harry opens his arms for me and I laugh as he lifts me off the ground, holding me securely to him as he spins us around. He tucks his face into my neck, his lips pressing warm kisses against the skin as my fingers make their way into his hair, having already missed the silky feel of the ringlets. I feel more than hear him hum against my skin, and I take a deep breath, savoring the scent of him—his Tom Ford cologne mixed with the mint of the gum he’s constantly chewing.

“Missed you, pet,” he murmurs, his voice muffled by his face in my neck. His chest rumbles against mine, though, making me warm and fuzzy all over.

“Missed you too, H,” I sigh and turn my head to press my lips to his temple.

He finally sets my feet back in the floor, and I move to step away, but his arms at my waist pull me flush against him and his head dips down to capture my lips with his. The kiss is soft and sweet, his tongue barely sweeping against my lips, and I hum at the feeling of him pressed against me again. It’s only been a few days, but I missed him so much, and I don’t know what I would have done if I had never experienced this again.

We would stay wrapped up in each other forever, but we’re broken apart by the slamming of the car door behind me, and the sound of Georgie’s boots slowly tapping on the pavement. I nearly forgot she was still here, even though I had just gotten out of her car two minutes before. Harry pulls his head back from mine and straightens up to his full height, licking his lips. I clear my throat and turn in his arms so my side is pressed against his but we’re both facing my best friend.

“Harry, this is my best mate, Georgina. Georgie, this is Harry,” I introduce, like Georgie has been living under a rock for the last five years.

Much to my relief—even though I trust her immensely not to go complete fangirl in my drive—Georgie simply smiles and offers a wave at Harry, keeping a few feet between them. “Hey, nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too,” Harry smiles, and I can see Georgie press her lips together when his dimples come out. I bite my lip to keep from chuckling. “How long have you and Micky known each other?”

“Since we were—what? Nine, I think,” she answers. I nod in confirmation. “Been like sisters ever since.”

“Sure beat the hell out of the brother I have,” I joke. Tommy and I get along fine now, and we’ve never had a bad relationship, but he was the typical older brother when we were younger. I was never allowed to hang out with him and his friends, and I was the butt of his jokes well into our adolescence. But, with the five year age difference between us, Tommy was my protector—and usually cockblock—when I was in secondary and he was in uni. Scared the boys I brought home half to death, resulting in teenage Micky not getting a whole lot of male attention until he was well moved out by twenty-two.

“At least you have an actual sibling,” she counters with a raised eyebrow. Georgie has always been bitter about the fact that she’s an only child, mainly because it’s meant her parents keep a pretty tight hold over what she does. She’d always been jealous of how laid back my parents are, resulting in her spending a majority of her time at mine whenever she could, not that anyone minded.

“Eh,” Harry shrugs. “They’re not that special.” 

Georgie snorts out a laugh before putting her hand out, palm up. “Alright, give me my keys, Bennett.”

“Leaving so soon?” Harry asks, genuinely surprised at her sudden departure.

“Mick’s got an empty house and I’m sure you’ll want to…spend some time together before her parents get home,” Georgie says with a suggestive raise of her brows. “I’m sure I’ll be back over later, though. Her parents like to feed me.” She smiles big and cheesy before rounding her car to get in the driver’s side. She waves at us through the window as she back down the drive before pulling onto the street. 

“Come on, it’s getting chilly out here,” I urge, pulling him toward my house. The wind has started to pick up and the sun has disappeared behind the clouds, making the previously tolerable day require jumpers and jeans. I get us into the house quickly and kick off my shoes by the front door, Harry doing the same.

“Want a cuppa?” I ask, heading toward the kitchen, glancing at him over my shoulder.

Harry trails behind me, looking over the photos my parents have spread around the house. “Yeah, that’d be great.” I leave him in our sitting room to look at some of old vacation photos and go to put on a kettle.

We’ve got a variety of teas in a cupboard above the sink, so I sort through them, trying to find something that might be suitable. English breakfast tea sounds a little boring, but it’s getting a bit too chilly for a fruity tea that my mom likes. “How do you feel about chamomile?” I ask, my voice slightly raised so he can hear me.

I don’t realize, however, that he has stealthily entered the kitchen behind me, thanks to his boots being off, and he answers from only about a metre away, startling me.

“I like chamomile with a bit of sugar,” he agrees, his voice smooth and warm. I feel his arms warp around my middle as I grab for the box I want, his hands diving under the elastic hem of my shirt to my skin. His hands are surprisingly warm, except for the cool metal of his rings at his knuckles. He hums and presses his lips to my exposed shoulder. “I like this shirt.”

The box tumbles from my hands onto the counter when he bites lightly at my skin and his hands trail to hold my sides. “You smell good, too.”

“You’re gonna have to behave for a bit if you still want tea,” I tell him, reaching a hand back to wind in his hair and play with the little ringlets.

“I’ll be good, promise,” he assures, pressing more chaste kisses along my shoulders and up to my cheek. His chest is warm against my back, and I can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing into me, but he’s good and just holds me to him. “Just missed you, is all.”

I can’t help the smile that touches my lips at his confession. “Missed you too, Harry.” I turn my head and catch his lips in a short peck, not letting it progress any further since the kettle starts whistling. 

Harry lets me go as I turn to switch off the burner, and I direct him to where the mugs are, just by the cabinet full of tea. I pour hot water in and submerge the little bags. There’s a platter on the kitchen table with sugar on it, so I direct Harry to grab it before leading him into the living room. We settle in next to each other on the couch and I reach for the throw blanket on the back, pulling it across my lap. It’s odd to me to be getting cozy like this in the middle of August, but I wouldn’t trade English summers for anything.


THIRTEEN

you know what lowkey fucks me up and i need in future seasons?? alec and magnus casually being in each other’s proximity without even touching?? like consider:

- the Gang hanging out at the loft for either Serious Business or no particular reason, magnus sprawled in one of his comfortable lounge chairs, swirling a drink in his hand and engaged in conversation with the others, while alec just absentmindedly decides to sit on the armrest focused on whatever they are talking about and occasionally contributing, sharing amused looks with magnus whenever simon starts his overly excited rambling

- during a briefing before a very important mission at the institute, which magnus has to attend as well, nobody really cares about seating arrangements because there aren’t enough chairs for all of them anyways so izzy sits on the table with one leg dangling off the side, clary next to her on a chair and jace stands, hunched over a map. magnus sits at one end of the table, legs crossed, making that boring office chair look like his throne and alec stands next to him, one arm draped over the back of the chair (maybe or maybe not playing with his hair occasionally, even if magnus playfully slaps his hand away once in a while because ‘mind you, i spent an hour on my hair this morning, alexander!!’), and nobody makes any teasing comments bc they’re used to it by now

- during a battle, both of them on high alert, back to back, making sure they cover as much ground as possible, twirling gracefully like in a dance, blue flames circling magnus’ fingers and alec’s arms stretching in fluid motions, his bow and quiver an extension of his limbs, communicating without even saying a word, just sensing the other whenever something is wrong and working together to Kick Ass

- them finding each other when they’re in a group setting/room full of people and always ending up standing next to each other, alec’s arms crossed, both sporting unimpressed glares at whoever is talking (probably a clave representative or even alec’s parents), most definitely rolling their eyes in unison and bumping shoulders once in a while, sharing quick amused glances and smiling to themselves, doing their best to keep a serious stance and pretend they are actually paying attention and not just making heart eyes at each other

but yeah anyways casual proximity is what i’m getting at

Want

jongyu / band au, omegaverse / r / 1500 words
warning: omegaverse things
Jonghyun never imagined that Jinki would want him.

this is the first part of a drabble series. i will write in it off and on, but each piece will probably be short (1-1.5k) and can standalone, which i think will make it easier for me to write in it over time.

The elevator seems smaller with just the two of them, because Jinki is standing so close. Jonghyun’s pulse speeds from the proximity, and he’s cursing himself for agreeing to take Jinki back to the dorm from the after party. He knows better than to do something like this when his heat is coming up soon. Being close to an alpha when his hormones are starting to fire up is always a mistake, but it’s the worst possible decision when the alpha is Jinki.

He feels their shoulders touch as Jinki’s head tilts down to lean against him. “You smell nice,” Jinki mumbles. His voice is soft and low, warm breath blowing against the sensitive skin of Jonghyun’s neck. 

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hi beeb how’s it going i hope you like these hcs many kisses to u

  • Otabek is a very light sleeper, like really anything could wake this boy up. On the other hand, Yuri practically sinks into whatever surface he closes his eyes on and becomes that object until he decides to wake up. 
  • Rest in fucking pieces if you try to wake up the kitten just saying.
  • This completely changes when they start to sleep in the same bed together. Yuri becomes easier to wake up, after wanting to keep himself awake to cherish all of Otabek’s little touches and ghost-like kisses while his eyes were closed. Otabek, on the other hand, is able to slip into a deep sleep super quick and easy when he’s holding his lover in his arms. 
  • When Yuri would visit Otabek while they were still friends (both of them crushing on each other by this point), he lied about being a cuddly sleeper after Otabek offered to share the bed, hoping he wouldn’t mind. He was shocked when Beka agreed to the offer and they got to be cuddly when Yuri pretended to sleep. It always made their hearts go *Mike Wazowski screech* for a while before they passed out together.
  • They do all the forehead kisses and nose boops when they snuggle in bed together while trying to sleep.
  • Yuri loves to sleep in nightgowns, while Otabek is one of those “I would sleep naked but there’s people in this house and so the closest I’ll get is with my underwear on only” even when he lives completely alone.
  • Sometimes during nights they have a hard time sleeping, Otabek will turn on his playlist of calm and relaxing music to sleep to and that just helps them pass out so fast.
  • The first time Yuri sees Otabek cry is while they sleep. Well, technically it’s a nightmare and they both wake up from it, but Yuri had never seen Otabek so vulnerable and distraught up until he wakes up in tears because “You’re dead, Yura! You died and it was my fault!”
  • Yuri’s normally the one prone to nightmares, so he knows how to ground someone from a bad dream and get them back to sleep. And that’s exactly what he did with Otabek. 
  • When the two of them finally have a kid, they have never been such light sleepers in their life. Their hearing ability skyrocketed, too. The baby could brush their arm against the bed for not even two seconds at a feather-like sound and the two parents would be suddenly awake and alert and ready to do anything necessary for their baby. 
  • They pulled a Dan and Phil when they lived separately: buying the same bed sheets with different colour schemes so there was at least something about each other there when they slept. 
  • Basically, when they sleep picture a giant bear cuddling an itty bitty kitten and protecting it with it’s life there you go that’s Otabek and Yuri my friends.
Drabble Request - Bucky

For @juliagolia87
I’m sorry this took so long, my love. I hope you like it.

#18 “Are you wearing make-up?”
#19 “Your shirt is on backwards.”
#21 “Why is everything sticky?!”

You had no idea why you were attempting to bake these damn cupcakes. To say the kitchen was your arch nemesis was a serious understatement; but a statement that was proving to be true. You- and the counter, cabinet doors, and floor-were covered in flour, chocolate batter, and different colored icings.


To be perfectly honest, you knew exactly why you were attempting to bake these damn cupcakes. James Buchanan Barnes. With his breathtaking blue eyes, his unnaturally soft hair, and that arm…it all belonged to you. No one else knew that, though.


Your relationship was new and the both of you were quite happy to keep it a secret for now. You weren’t interested in the dad advice from Steve or the interrogation from Natasha. So you snuck around. Lingering touches during training, sultry glances across the dinner table, quick kisses while walking past each other in the hallway. Sneaking around also meant always having to find new places for quickies; and that was your favorite part.


Today was nothing special, but for some reason you felt like giving Bucky a treat. So, here you were, silently cursing the bowl in front of you. You were just about to transfer the mix into the muffin tin when large arms enveloped you from behind.


“Whatcha doin, doll?”


You smiled and let yourself relax against Bucky’s large frame.


“Nothing.” you licked some batter off your finger “Just making cupcakes.”


Bucky snickered quietly “I’ve never seen you bake.”


You shrugged “Cause I don’t. I just wanted to do something nice for you.”


Bucky suddenly spun you in his arms so your back was against the counter.


“Sweetheart, you do something nice for me every day.”


You laughed and playfully smacked his chest “You know what I mean.”


“Wait, wait.”


Bucky ran his thumb gently down your cheek to your lips, which he noticed were darker than usual. He turned his now red thumb towards you.


You blushed instantly, forgetting that you had spruced up a bit before venturing into the kitchen.


“It was meant for after I gave you the cupcakes.”


Bucky cocked and eyebrow in understanding and leaned down to press his lips gently against yours. You moaned quietly and wrapped your arms around his neck. Bucky groaned against your lips and quickly lifted you onto the counter, your body pushing everything out of the way.


You broke the kiss and looked at him. He was beautiful. Pupils already growing large, full of lust, and his lips just a shade pinker from kissing you.


“Bucky, we can’t do this here.”


“We have a little bit, babe. Steve went to get pizza and the others are off…doing something…I dunno. Shut up.”


You giggled as his lips covered yours again. Your hands slide up the side of his face and into his hair, tugging gently like you always did during times like this. If he ever thought about cutting his hair, you’d probably kill him.


His tongue made contact with your lips and you didn’t even hesitate to meet it with your own. You dug your fingers gently into his scalp, pulling him as close to you as possible. Bucky moaned and gripped you tighter, his fingers surely leaving bruises on your hips.


All thoughts of rushing whatever was happening flew out the door then. You released your hold on his hand and slid your hands down his chest. He felt you grab the hem of his shirt and broke the kiss long enough to remove it himself, tossing it to the floor.


“Fuck.”


Your breath hitched as you took in the sight of him. Chiseled abs, defined arms, the scars where his metal appendage met the skin of his shoulder. All of his was undeniably perfect, whether he believed it or not.


Bucky ignored you, he always did when you gave him any form of a compliment, and pushed his body against yours. Heat radiated off of his chest and hit you right between your legs. You shuddered and latched onto his hair again, pulling his mouth to yours.


Wet kisses and heavy pants were the only sounds to be heard in the kitchen. Cupcakes forgotten, fear of being caught forgotten. That’s how it always is when you’re with Bucky. He makes your heart ache, your head spin, your panties wet, and he had no idea how far gone you were.


“Hey guys!! I’m back with pizza!” Steve’s voice rang through the living room “Anyone here?”


You and Bucky jumped away from each other immediately. As he dove for his discarded shirt, you accidently put your hand down on the edge of the mixing bowl, spilling chocolate batter all over the counter.


“Shit shit!”


You could feel the batter pooling under your thighs and cringed before quickly hopping off the counter. You saw Bucky pull his shirt over his head just as Steve walked into the kitchen.


“Hey…guys.”


Steve stopped and took in the scene before him. Bucky had a red face and was just staring in your direction, you were furiously trying to wipe up the spill but it was actually just getting worse.


“What the hell happened here?”


You laughed nervously “What do you mean?”


“Well, for one…Buck, your shirt is on backwards. Two, why is everything sticky?”


Bucky looked down at his shirt and quickly maneuvered it so it was facing the correct way.


Meanwhile, you glared at Steve and walked to the sink to wet a washcloth “You aren’t even on this side of the kitchen. How do you know it’s sticky?”


Steve laughed and set the pizza box down on a countertop far away from you and your mess.


“Looks, and smells, like chocolate. Chocolate is sticky.”


You groaned loudly “Cupcakes, okay. I was making cupcakes. Jesus.”


Steve stared at you for a second, trying to understand why you were giving him attitude. He didn’t spill anything, he just brought pizza. Instead of pushing you more, he just turned to Bucky.


“You want pizza, man?”


Bucky inhaled deeply before turning and grabbing a slice “Thanks, man.”


He leaned against the counter beside Steve and immediately noticed his friend staring at him. He tried to ignore it but every few seconds Steve would turn to look at him. Over and over and over.


“Can I help you, Rogers?”


Steve cleared his throat “No judgment but…are you wearing makeup?”


You gasped loudly and started coughing to cover it while sneaking a glance over your shoulder. Bucky’s eyes were wide and his lips were red. The same red as your lipstick.


“What?”


Steve pointed at Bucky’s face “Your lips, man. They’re really red.”


Bucky chuckled nervously and wiped his lips “Oh…uh…cupcakes! I stole some icing when she wasn’t looking.”


Steve sniffed and turned back to his pizza, clearly not convinced.


After several minutes of uncomfortable silence, filled only by you cleaning or one of the guys grabbing napkins or drinks, Steve pushed himself off the counter.


“Well, I’m gonna go. You guys…go back to fonduing or whatever it is you were really doing when I got here.”


Neither of you spoke as you watched him leave, astounded by what he had just said.


“Bucky! How did he know?!”


Apparently you couldn’t whisper nearly as well as you thought because Steve answered your question.


“He’s got flour handprints on his ass!”

Fic: Ghost Ship (Ao3 link)
Fandom: DC’s Legends of Tomorrow
Pairing: Mick Rory/Leonard Snart

Summary: The Oculus spits Len back out into the world, a little over a year after he sacrifices himself.

He finds things different, and not in a good way.

A/N: For @ice-whisper, who requested Len angst that ripped her heart out. Hope this works for you. Happy birthday!

————————————————————————————————-

Len goes to his death with his eyes open, his heart set, and an apology on his lips.

Mick survived without him, after the fire. Thrived, even.

He’ll do fine without Len.

Len’s sure of it.

What happened next, though, Len isn’t expecting.

Len isn’t expecting to come back to life.

He isn’t expecting to find himself back on the Waverider, a little over a year after he died.

He isn’t expecting to find it so very different from what he’d left.

Most of all, though, he isn’t expecting to be right.

Because Mick is.

Doing fine without Len, that is.

Keep reading

‘gentle hands and quiet hearts’

@hungline requested: friends to lovers au for junhao (slight angst)


words: 3780 


cw: violence, underage drinking and smoking, minor homophobia 


summary: 
and maybe junhui is saying something more, but minghao isn’t listening. he can only think about jun’s hands, long fingers carding through minghao’s damaged hair, and he can only think about how something inside of him doesn’t want it to stop. he wants junhui to keep touching him. the thought makes him sick to his stomach. 

[or, a play told in nine parts]


I.

xu minghao is seven when he first meets wen junhui. they are two kids at the park, sitting next to each other because they have no one else. they become close in the quick, confident way that children always do: it only takes a few conversations about their families and favorite superheroes before they are inseparable, ‘friends forever’.

junhui is two years older than him, quiet but cocky in a way that minghao subconsciously tries to mimic whenever he talks to other kids. once, they spend the whole day at the creek in the woods behind minghao’s house, and junhui convinces him that if he swims too deep he’ll be taken by evil river monsters that eat young boys. he says it just to make sure that minghao doesn’t end up in over his head and drown, but his plan works too well and minghao refuses to wade into anything deeper than his ankles for weeks.


II.

minghao doesn’t know the name of the boy who has hit him.

he only knows that the slap stung, that now he is standing in the street and that a gang of older children who he does not know but apparently know him are watching as his eyes well up with tears.

it only takes a second before minghao punches the boy back across the jaw, and then they are fighting. minghao knows he is going to lose; the boy is much stronger than him and the crowd that has circled around them is not on his side.

the boy keeps calling minghao names, poison words that he has heard before but doesn’t quite know what they mean, and all of a sudden minghao can’t hear anything because he gets punched in the gut, hard enough to make him double over and gasp for air. he takes a second, a quick second to glance at the kids surrounding him. he can tell that there is someone trying to break through the crowd and get to the front, the way the people are shifting to allow the person through.

minghao doesn’t see much after that, because the instant that he looks away is the instant that the boy knocks him out.

it’s quick, the time where all he can see is darkness, but it’s long enough to be a clear sign that the fight is over. the boy who’s name minghao does not know has won. by the time he opens his eyes, the crowd is slowly starting to disperse.

“minghao?”

he turns his head slowly to the sound of his own name. he knows that it’s junhui who called out to him, even before he sees his concerned face.

“ah. hey junhui.”

junhui rushes forward and yanks minghao up, before turning to the boy who gave him a beating. at fourteen, jun is tall and broad-shouldered, just enough to appear threatening to strangers.

“if you’ll kindly excuse us, you bastards.” jun is quiet and cold, and the left over crowd parts as he drags minghao away from the scene.

they walk all the way to jun’s house, all the way to the upstairs bathroom.

minghao sits on the edge of the bathtub, watching as jun pulls gauze and a washcloth from the wooden cabinet beneath bathroom sink. soon, jun is kneeling in front of him, washing off minghao’s split knuckles.

“did he break your nose? shouldn’t it have stopped bleeding by now?”

“i don’t know.”

“what happened?”

“i don’t know. those kids have always hated me. today one of them sort of attacked me, i guess.”

junhui nods. his hands are gentle as they wipe the blood away, eventually he begins to clean up minghao’s face, too, telling him to tilt his head back while he bandages up his nose.

“only a coward picks fights with people that are younger and less experienced. did he hurt you anywhere else?” jun asks. his hand is still resting on minghao’s cheek, now just a reassuring touch.

“he probably bruised my fucking ribs,” minghao says as he reaches up and pushes jun’s arm away, “but you can’t really help me with that.”

a silence settles over them as junhui puts the supplies back where he found them. jun keeps looking at minghao, and minghao just keeps his eyes trained on the ground, occasionally lifting up his fist to re-inspect his split knuckles.  


III.

minghao is fifteen when he first hears the rumors. like all stories started by upperclassmen, it takes a while to get to him, whispers that started weeks ago eventually falling onto his ears.

did you hear about wen junhui?” a girl asks her group of friends. minghao, who is putting his things away in his locker, stops short. he’s curious about the gossip this girl is spreading about his closest friend, wonders if jun got a girlfriend and hadn’t told minghao yet. the idea unsettles him.

another girl responds, “the eleventh grader? the handsome one?”

“yeah. people are saying he’s a total pansy. he’s turned down every confession he’s ever gotten from girls. and you’ve seen the way he is with jeon wonwoo.”

“or with xu minghao.”

“i’d definitely believe that…” this time it’s a guy speaking, and minghao quickly stops listening.

he grabs his books and walks to class.

that afternoon, when he’s walking home with junhui, he can’t stop himself before asking, “have you heard what kids are saying about you?”

jun looks surprised, he exhales the smoke from his cigarette before turning to minghao and shrugging.

minghao realizes that he doesn’t know how to reiterate what he has heard without it sounding like an interrogation. he’s not here for answers, doesn’t care either way, he just wants to let jun know. so he picks apart the rumor in his head, and finally latches onto a detail to exploit.

“they’re saying that you’re fucking wonwoo.”

at this, jun half chortles and half chokes, red creeping up to his cheeks, “wonwoo? like, jeon wonwoo?”

minghao nods.

“i can assure you, i am not fucking wonwoo.” junhui says it quietly but incredulously, still blushing. suddenly minghao wants to know more, and so he mentally prepares himself to be the cat that curiosity kills.

“do you want to fuck wonwoo?”  

“look, kid,” junhui starts, and that’s when minghao knows he’s gone too far. junhui rarely acts like his elder, too shy and too afraid of any sort of power. “you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

minghao watches jun quicken his pace, and is reminded once again that jun is all sharp angles and dark eyes, long hair tied back and cigarette smoke. he looks like the opposite of what he really is; kind and gentle and honest.  

“yeah. i suppose i don’t.”


IV.

“trust me, hao, you’ll look super cool when this is over with.”

minghao laughs. junhui had somehow convinced him that he should dye his hair blonde, and now they are sitting on minghao’s bedroom floor with bottles of dye surrounding them. minghao is trying to read through the instruction packet and junhui is sitting behind him, rubbing the bleach into minghao’s hair. they’ve been working their way through a six-pack of cheap liquor, and now they are full of childlike giggles, minds hazy.

“my eyes are killing me, junnie, please tell me it’ll be done soon.”

jun nods. “it is. go wash your hair out and then come sit back here.”

he does as he is told, keeps his eyes shut tight as he steps quickly into the shower. by the time he gets back, junhui has cleaned the room slightly and has opened another beer. jun pats the space in front of him and minghao sits again, not asking any questions.

before minghao really comprehends what is happening, junhui is brushing out minghao’s drying hair. he keeps switching between his fingers and a small hairbrush, and in any situation minghao would be mortified, but he’s just drunk enough to allow it for a few moments, junhui mumbling about how he does look cool, really really cool.

and maybe junhui is saying something more, but minghao isn’t listening. he can only think about jun’s hands, long fingers carding through minghao’s damaged hair, and he can only think about how something inside of him doesn’t want it to stop. he wants junhui to keep touching him. the thought makes him sick to his stomach, adding onto the butterflies he is desperately trying to ignore.

he shifts away and turns around, putting some distance between himself and junhui, who drops his hands and starts sipping on his drink. minghao is too busy pretending that his heart doesn’t ache at the loss of closeness, of contact, to notice that jun is staring at him.

“everything alright?”

jun’s voice is soft and minghao’s heart drops, a sensation that makes him feel more nauseous.

“yes, i’m fine, just had too much to drink.”

“poor lightweight hao hao” he teases, then reaches forward to press the back of his hand against minghao’s forehead.  the gentle touch and the way that junhui is looking at him turns the butterflies into lions and he barely makes it to the sink before he starts vomiting.


V.

he is sixteen, now, and junhui is going away for college next year. in a few months minghao will be left all alone, but they have become skilled in the art of not talking about the things they don’t want to. so, his best friend is leaving soon but really all he can think about is how he’s lost his cigarettes.

“junnie… do you have a pack?”

minghao asks, quietly. they are standing outside under a street lamp, next to the park where they first met, but everything is darker now, bathed in the dim, blinking light.

“yeah, hold on a second.”

in a few moments, jun is pulling out a cigarette and handing it to minghao, who perches it between his lips and starts to search for his own lighter. junhui watches, half amused as minghao goes through his pockets, then his book bag, then back through his pockets again, until eventually groaning.

“i got it, i got it.” jun says before minghao even has the chance to ask. he pulls a lighter out of his back pocket and steps forward.

minghao feels his heart drop again, a feeling he has gotten used to but doesn’t understand or want. junhui holds the flame up to the end of minghao’s cigarette, using his other hand to block the wind that wasn’t all that strong.

they get closer, eyes meeting for a split second, and junhui wants nothing more than to pick the cigarette out of minghao’s mouth and then close the gap between them, but he can’t tell what minghao is thinking, so he waits, cautious and hopeful. minghao looks away and steps back.

“thanks.”

“no problem.” jun responds quickly, leaning back against the fence and taking a deep breath. a car passes by and junhui wants to scream, because minghao is always so so close, but never quite close enough.


VI.

it is raining out, softly but persistent, and minghao is doing school work at junhui’s desk. jun is sitting in his bed playing a game on his phone. his room hasn’t changed much over the years, minghao thinks, it’s still the same off-white walls, creaky desk and messily written stick-it notes on the walls.

minghao is trying to do math, which never really ends well, and he want to bang his head against a bunch of bricks but instead he sighs, and turns to where junhui is.

“calculus is a bitch.” minghao states, making jun chuckle before he sits up, crossing his legs on the bed in order to create more space on the mattress.

he waves minghao over, flashes a smile. “c’mere. i’m sure we can work out the issue.”

the younger boy nods, standing up and grabbing his textbooks and worksheets to go sit opposite junhui, laying out the schoolwork between them. he points to a problem with his pencil, launching into an explanation of his calculations thus far.

jun takes the pencil from him, and sets to work teaching about the errors. he keeps looking up at minghao, who is desperately trying to keep up. it doesn’t help that junhui talks so fast, and by the time he’s done explaining, minghao is completely lost.

“got it?”

“uh, yeah. i think so.” minghao lies. he takes the pencil back and sets to work on the problem again, no less confused than he was five minutes ago. he tries to solve it for a few moments, until he groans, throwing the pencil down in a show of dramatics that junhui appreciates.

“this is ridiculous and stupid. this is ridiculously stupid.”  

he sounds so frustrated that junhui says no snarky comment in return. they sit in a noticeable silence, but they are both used to this sort of lull in conversation. junhui shifts, ever so slightly, so that their knees are touching. minghao looks down at the contact. junhui doesn’t move back.

minghao thinks that maybe he should go back to the desk, to stop whatever junhui was planning before it even started. leaving the bed would be a clear sign that he doesn’t want this, but he doesn’t know what he wants. he doesn’t think he ever has.

he stays still, reasoning that all jun did was reposition himself. it was nothing to over analyze, he thinks, but a second later he is proven wrong.

they make eye contact when minghao looks back up, and it’s the same as when they were standing outside months ago, except now there are no cars rushing past and junhui is tired of waiting.

junhui shifts forward even more, laying the gentlest of hands on minghao’s cheek before connecting their lips. the kiss is soft, and to junhui it feels like heaven but to minghao it feels like absolute chaos, panic flooding through him as the blood pounds in his head. it feels too much like a confirmation, (him kissing a boy, him kissing junhui, him wanting it to keep going, wanting junhui to keep his hand, warm, on the back of his neck) for minghao to handle, and he shoves junhui away harshly, trying not to be sick. he stands up, stumbling away from the bed.

“what the fuck-”

“i’m so sorry.” junhui cuts him off. he sounds so quiet, that minghao stops short. he doesn’t want to fight, this he knows for certain.  “i should have…” he trails off.

“it’s alright.” minghao says. there is another stretch of silence, he’s still standing there, and jun is   still sitting with crumpled math homework in front of him.

“do you want me to drive you home?”

jun’s words hang in the air, the question feeling unwarranted and abrupt but minghao nods anyway. he’s staring at junhui but junhui is staring at the ground, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.


VII.

the drive is short, ten minutes at most, but it feels like decades. minghao keeps looking at junhui, who refuses to look back. he is trying to read jun’s expression but for once in his life he doesn’t have a clue what the other is thinking.

junhui has always been quiet, he knows, ever since they were kids, but this sort of quiet feels different. entirely unfamiliar.

minghao is smoking, hoping the nicotine will calm him down. the same words that have been repeating in his head for months now are louder than ever: he can’t like junhui like this, can’t love junhui like this, he doesn’t feel anything more than a strong bond of friendship, he can’t, not like this, wrong, wrong, wrong.   

“i’m sorry.” jun says again. he feels horrible, like he’s just ruined everything with one of the only friends he has ever had, and apologizing is the only thing he can think to do.

“stop that. you just kissed me, it wasn’t like you punched me in the face.” minghao tries to be funny but he falls short on the delivery, since he’s realizing that if junhui had just punched him in the face then at least he would have known how to react.

“i guess.”

they get to minghao’s house and minghao resists the urges to either rush upstairs to his bedroom and spend the rest of his life hidden under blankets or burst into tears in the passenger’s seat in his own driveway. instead, all he does is give the quickest smile he could manage to junhui before getting out of the car.


VII.

minghao can’t sleep. he keeps replaying the events that happened hours ago over and over again in his mind. his chest hurts but not as much as his head, this is confusion worse than calculus. he is desperately trying not to think, playing music as loud as he can without making himself go deaf, and he’s smoking his way through an entire pack, one that he stole from junhui earlier in the day.

he’s kissed people before. a girl at a school dance, a different girl during a game of spin the bottle, and now, to add to his repertoire, his best friend, sociable and handsome senior wen junhui.

the thought almost amuses him. he wants to brush this off, he is certain that jun wants to act like this never happened, too, and if they tried hard enough, they could pretend that it was nothing. a quick press of the lips, an experiment. but he knows that this has been building up for too long to be a split second decision. he thinks of hands in his newly dyed hair, or of dark brown eyes boring into his as they stand at the side of the road. he thinks of gentle words reaching his ears as blood gushes out of his nose.

he turns his music up a notch louder, and rolls over in bed, for the millionth time.


him and junhui don’t text or see each other for two days. in those two days, minghao doesn’t sleep, and he thinks he’s sick. in those two days, he also realizes that he would do anything for his best friend.

do anything for another kiss, to feel the butterflies again, to feel jun’s hands in his hair again. to feel jun again. he can work everything out later, just needs this now.

so it’s two thirty a.m. on a friday night, or a saturday morning, and he messages junhui again.

m: hey

j: hello

jun’s reply was quick. minghao wonders how well the other boy has been sleeping.

m: do you want to come to the creek with me?

j: you mean the one behind your house?

m: yeah. it’s warm enough to swim in.

j: be there in fifteen.

minghao smiles. it’s almost scary, how junhui asks no questions, doesn’t care if minghao forgives him or not, he just agrees.

true to his words, junhui is standing in the front yard in fifteen minutes. he looks exactly like he always does, loose shirt and tight jeans, dark hair pulled back into a small bun. minghao’s stomach turns, and he imagines that the thoughts that fly through his head are similar to the ones that school girls think of when they are going on their first date.

he slips downstairs with little regard to the amount of sound he is making, knowing his parents won’t care, that they never have. and he walks out the front door.  


VIII.

his eyes have adjusted to the darkness by the time they reach the stream. the forest is the same as it has always been, moon and starlight shining through the treetops above them.

conversation on the way there was scarce and things are definitely awkward and stilted, junhui occasionally telling stupid jokes and minghao laughing because he knows jun wants him to. but now they are standing at the edge of the water, and minghao doesn’t want it to be so silent anymore.

“i’ve been dying to swim recently.” he lies, stripping off his shirt and shoes.

“ah, getting scandalous are we?” junhui says in response as he does the same.

“shut up.”

junhui is quick to take his own jeans off and go into the deep, pulling the elastic out of his hair and sighing in the freezing cold water. the rocks hurt his feet but he doesn’t really mind. minghao rolls the ends of his pants up, but doesn’t go in past his ankles. maybe it’s because he’s too busy thinking about how to bring up an impossible topic, or how to communicate to his best friend that he wants him closer, or maybe he’s still afraid of the evil river monsters that eat young boys, of getting in over his head.

“junhui.”

“yes?”

“come here.”

jun is there in a matter of seconds, standing in front of minghao. he doesn’t look very happy, though minghao supposes that the other boy never does. minghao swallows hard and steps forward.

he’s never been very good with words, so instead he mimics what junhui did to him days ago. he rests a hand on junhui’s cheek and steps forward, leaning in slow enough so that jun could stop him if he wanted to. but he doesn’t, so they kiss slowly, rough lips with soft intent. jun pulls away after a while though, pulling them back to reality.

“minghao, you know we don’t have to, i mean, i wouldn’t…” junhui blushes as he tries to explain.

the younger boy nods, “yeah, i know. i’ve just been thinking about it for a while, and i think i want this. i mean, you just caught me by surprise.” which isn’t entirely true, but it was as much as an explanation as he could possibly give.

and then junhui smiles, wide and bright, eyes lighting up. he hugs minghao tightly for a few seconds, before he can stop himself.

they kiss again and again and again, and junhui is more relieved than minghao could possibly understand.

“jun, how long…” he hesitates, trying to find the right words. luckily, junhui meets him halfway.

“i don’t know. since forever. since we were children. since that kid beat you up in the middle of the street. you’re hard not to love, xu minghao.”


IX.

swimming in the middle of the night wasn’t their best idea. in a matter of days, junhui gets sick. physically, he feels worse than he has in ages, but it’s alright, because minghao is there, (which jun appreciates, even though all minghao does is tell him how stupid he is for getting so ill).

it’s okay, because minghao is there. (and there are no more secrets).

strangegameprofessor  asked:

idk if you've seen that extra gum commercial where this guy draws little comics on gum wrappers, and he has this crush on this girl. they date and he draws things from their relationship on the wrappers and he draws one to propose to his gf and she says yes. and the song playing is "i can't help falling in love with you". i really would love to see a skimmons version of that. it could be a high school-college au

I know this took ages, but I hope it’s worth it. Thanks for the prompt! It was a ton of fun!


AO3 Link

Whoever invented high school clearly hated teenagers. Daisy huffed out a dramatic sigh and leaned back in her rickety wooden desk. The teacher kept droning on about some boring battle in the Civil War (which Daisy swore they learned about last year, too). Worst of all, she had forgotten her backpack at home today so she didn’t even have anything to doodle on to kill the time. 

Keep reading

OK we all know Whitebeard and his crew but now imagine a fallenangel!AU where Whitebeard is the leader of a bunch of fallen angels, who where sent down from heaven bc of their sins and instead of their white wings, they turn night black and are hated by absolutely everyone

Now imagine Ace being one of the strongest fallen angels and being the most brutal/heartless creature and there you come, a innocent white angel, white wings, eyes that burn with passion and a pure heart- one of the strongest angels that fight for heaven

So, now imagine a fight between the fallen angels and the angels of heaven- good against bad- and since you and ace are pretty much on the same level, it’s clear to say; you’re going against each other. It’s a bloodbath, you and him keep fighting and then he does it, in one quick moment, he opens his giant wings and surrounds you, the lights turning into darkness and the disgustingly pleasing smell of him in your senses. You feel numb for a few seconds, then a hand touches your face, a quiet laugh is heard and then everything turns bright again, but something is wrong; you feel something burn on your chest, cutting deeper into your skin and you groan in pain. You look down, trying to find the source of pain and what you see let’s the blood freeze in your veins; a black print of Ace’s wings is tattooed on your chest, a white print of yours on his chest.

He turned you into his soulmate; you lost the battle.