the shirt smells like him

Confessions

“You’re a good guy.” You whispered into the darkness. Dean lay on his own bed, just a few feet to your right. Sam’s snoring filled the silence while you waited for Dean to respond.

“You always say that.” He whispered back, his voice was raspy and aching for a good night’s sleep that you knew neither of you would receive tonight.

You pulled the blanket up higher up over your chest. The sheets scratched against your ass; once again you forgot to pack sweat pants.

“I always mean it.”

“Huh.” He muttered in response. You heard him flip sides. Was he facing you? You couldn’t see.

Regardless, you turned from your back onto your side, to face him.

“Dean?” You asked.

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever…feel lonely?” You asked. After two in the morning, you found that more often than not, your filter seemed to leave.

After a beat of silence he responded, “Most of the time.”

“What about the other times? What helps you get through them?” You hadn’t realized that your grip around the blanket tightened.

His breathing was even. Dean always breathed deeply, you noticed.

“You.” The word slipped out from between his lips so quietly you almost misheard, until he repeated, “You do.”

After hearing that, you weren’t sure if you allowed seconds to tick by, or minutes. Years worth of tension just released itself between these shitty motel walls. You kicked the blanket down to your ankles before quietly stepping out from your bed.

“Move over.” You gripped his shoulder beneath your fingers. He did as he was told and you crawled under his sheets. He didn’t touch you until you pressed your forehead against his chest. His t-shirt smelled like him, and you nuzzled yourself even closer.

“Do you love me?” You asked suddenly, and Dean lifted his leg over your own. In his own way, that was an answer. Laying there intertwined, you allowed yourself to savor the moment of feeling completely whole in his arms until repeating your question.

It felt as if nothing before this moment had ever existed, even though you had never even been this physically close to him.

Hugs, of course.

Kisses on the forehead, always.

But something was different now; suddenly you became more than just his best friend.

“Yes.” He answered, his lips ghosting over your head. “So fucking much.” His voice was shaking as he said it. You raised your hand to plant it firmly on his jaw. You traced circles over his temple and down to his ear.

“Why have you never told me?” You asked.

He gripped your head in his hand. “I never knew what you thought of me.”

“What I think of you?” You said more to yourself than to him, “You’re honest. Strong. Brave. Caring. Hilarious.” You began listing his qualities, “And that smile of yours, it can light up a room.”

He tucked your hair behind your ear as you spoke. When you dragged your fingers to his cheeks, you realized they were wet.

“You’re selfless, Dean.” You added, “And most of all you’re good. The kind of good that makes the best of men yearn to be like you.”

Right there, you realized you had only seen him cry one other time.

“I love you.” He whispered again and tried to pull you closer. There wasn’t any more space but damn did he try.

“Dean?” You whispered his name as if you hadn’t heard him speak just a second ago, “You’re also the guy I love. I don’t know if that fits in with the rest of the list, but I do. So fucking much.”

He was squeezing you so tight now, you nearly began to sweat.

“It’s the only part of the list that matters.” He said as his hands gripped your back.

– – – – 

I haven’t written for this blog in a while. Partly due to exams, and partly to writer’s block. Let me know if you like this/send feedback! I’d love to know how you all feel about this type of imagine. 

Eddie is a clingy cuddly bf!!!!!!!

  • Wearing Richie’s sweaters and t shirts bc they smell like him and make him feel cozy
  • Constantly fixing Richie’s hair or shirt or glasses just so he can touch him
  • Snuggling under Richie’s jacket or a blanket they’re sharing and burying his face in Richie’s chest
  • Whining when Richie gets up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, telling him he needs to come back because it’s cold and as soon as Richie gets back in the bed with him he attaches himself to him and buried his face in Richie’s neck and falls back to sleep
  • Sitting in Richie’s lap whenever he gets the chance
  • Richie giving Eddie piggy back rides because Eddie likes to kiss Richie’s neck while he carries him
  • Playing with Richie’s hands when he’s nervous
  • EDDIE!!!!! IS A CLINGLY CUDDLY BF!!!!

6 years ago my grandpa died of cancer and we were very close so it was very hard for me. My grandma gave me a bag of some of his stuff and for 6 years I never opened it. It always made me too sad to go through, but I finally found it again and I went through it. I found a picture of him in it which is amazing because I never could find any pictures of him and in the bag were some of his shirts and they still smell like him. This made me really sad/happy and I just felt like sharing.

Shakespeare (Part X)

(Banner made by the incredibly talented @tiostyles)

Harry X Reader (AU)

In which Harry is a poetic frat boy who just so happens to be the TA for your new English class.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: This is it. This is the final part. Thank you all so much for sticking around and supporting me and giving me your honest thoughts. I wouldn’t have come this far without you. All the love. Xx


It’s four-thirty in the morning.

You notice the time passively. It’s the least of your worries. You’ve been tossing and turning, in and out of sleep for the past couple hours. Harry is sprawled out across the mattress on his stomach. His legs are spread, arms outstretched. One hangs limply over your waist. He’s facing you and his cheek is pressed against his pillow, lips parted, hair disheveled. You’ve been staring at him for twenty minutes, thankful that he hasn’t woken up to your probing eyes.

He smells just as he always has when you finally shift into his body, settling your forehead against his shoulder and letting your eyes rest closed. His arm curls around you and you bask in the essence of him—the soft snores and rolling heat. You’re not sure when you’ll get to be this close again.

You’re drawn across the mattress before you even know Harry’s awake. He gathers you up in his arms as he rolls onto his side, pressing his lips into the top of your head.

“Should be sleepin’, love,” he rasps, pulling the blankets up around your shoulders. “Gotta drive home today, yeah?”

“I’ve been trying,” you whisper against his chest. “I just can’t.”

“Need yeh to,” Harry presses. His hand glides along your bare back—you’ve shed your shirt at some point. The gentle touch and soothing rumble of his voice are almost enough to lull you right into unconsciousness. “Can’t have yeh fallin’ asleep b'hind the wheel. Want yeh t'get home safe. Can yeh please try t'sleep fo’ me, angel?”

Your cold palms press into Harry’s abdomen and he hisses, reaching down to lift your hands. He brings them up to his mouth, warming them with his breath and feathering his lips over your knuckles. Then he returns them to his chest and layers his own hand on top.

“I don’t wanna sleep,” you whisper after a few moments. Your fingertips dance over where you know his tattoos are. “Time moves too fast when you’re sleeping.”

“Y/N, love.” Harry breathes out a sigh and then yawns softly. “Need yeh t'sleep fo’ me. ’M beggin’ yeh. Wha’ can I do t'help yeh sleep?”

“Can you sing?” you ask, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Or just hum?”

Harry nods and presses a kiss to your head. His throat vibrates as he picks up a low, familiar tune. You can’t pin down what it is, but it’s soothing, and you don’t feel yourself falling asleep until you’re unconscious.

***

Harry wakes you up again at seven o'clock. His hands brush your hair from your face and he peppers kisses over your cheeks.

“’S time t'go, love,” he informs you in a quiet rumble. “Gotta be at the airport b'fore eight.”

You hug the blanket around yourself as you sit up, reaching for Harry’s shirt to hand it to him.

“Wear it t'day,” he urges you, pushing your outstretched hand back toward your body. “Can keep it, too.”

You swallow around the hard lump of loss that’s already begun to form in your throat and crawl off of the mattress, pulling on your bra and a clean pair of pants. You tug Harry’s shirt over your torso. It smells like him. His cologne has soaked into the material and you hope it never fades.

Harry folds up his blankets and shoves them into a duffle bag, along with his pillows. He’s dressed now, in a pair of comfy sweatpants and a large hoodie. He zips the bag up and takes a spin around the room to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything.

You turn slowly. It looks so different empty. The bookshelf is bare, the desk wiped clean. All of his belongings were packed into boxes and shipped back home, except for the few bags he’s taking on his flight.

“All set,” Harry says with a sigh. He lifts his bag up over his shoulder and holds the door open for you to leave before him.

***

The airport isn’t as busy as you would expect. There are a few families milling about at the entrance. Harry has already dropped off his baggage and when he stops at a small shop to get himself a tea and a muffin.

“Whaddaya want, love?” he asks you.

“I’m not hungry.” You peel your eyes away from his hand as he bobs a teabag in steaming water. Your gaze lands instead on the window behind the counter, where you can see a distant runway and a few stationary airplanes.

Harry glances at you worriedly before snapping a lid onto his cup of tea.

“Pick somethin’ t'eat,” he orders you.

“I said I’m not-”

“Know what yeh said.” Harry gives you a hard stare when you turn to face him. “’M tellin’ yeh t'eat somethin’. Won’ have yeh drivin’ home on an empty stomach.“ 

You grumble under your breath while you search a cooler for something quick to grab. Harry waits patiently for you before moving his breakfast to the counter to check out, and then the two of you find a table outside the small shop to sit and eat.

"Better finish tha’,” Harry threatens you when you only nibble at your food. “Paid a fortune fo’ it. Was basically a robbery.”

“I told you I wasn’t hungry,” you remind him softly. The painful misery of today has kicked in fully, leaving you a ticking bomb. At any moment you could burst into tears. You’re just hoping they’ll wait until a more acceptable time.

Harry stares at you. His gaze is soft, and you’re convinced you can see water collecting along his eyelids, but that may just be the way your own vision is blurring.

“Please, jus’ eat, love. ’M gonna have t'go through security soon ‘nd I’d feel a lot better ‘f I knew yeh had somethin’ in your stomach.”

Your heart nearly explodes with his mention of passing time. Soon. Very soon, you’ll have to say goodbye with no promise of a future meeting. You don’t know when you’ll see him again.

There are unwelcome tears in your eyes as you begin to chew your food. It’s hard to swallow.

Harry looks away when he notices the crease between your brows, the way you can’t seem to stop your quick blinking. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth to keep it from trembling while you choke down your breakfast. Instead, he focuses on a woman embracing what appears to be her daughter. They don’t cry, only clutch each other tightly and then whisper a few words before the daughter heads toward the security line. Maybe she’s only going a state over. Maybe she’ll be back in a week. Harry doesn’t have the privilege of knowing when he’ll see you again.

Your chair squeaks against the tiled floor as you stand, drawing his gaze back to you. He pushes up from his seat and slings his bag over his shoulder. The two of you throw out your trash and Harry turns to check the line for security screening. It’s about time for him to head over. You’ve begun to break down by the time he turns around.

“Hey, hey,” he whispers, grasping at your face and collecting your tears with his thumbs. “Don’ cry on me, now,” he begs, but his own eyes have begun to water, and he can feel his heart ready to beat out of his ribcage.

“I can’t help it,” you mumble through sobs. You take a step forward, slamming into his chest and hooking your arms around him. He gathers you to him, squeezing you tightly and pressing hard kisses to your head.

“Already miss yeh,” he whispers. His voice sounds tight, and his hands stroke your hair as he sucks in a shaky breath.

Harry cups your cheeks, lifting your face from his chest to press his mouth desperately to yours. You can feel the damp warmth of tears as his mix with yours. Your fingers clutch at the back of his hoodie, lips moving with an urgency that you can feel ticking in your bones.

“I love yeh,” Harry whispers against your mouth as he breaks the kiss. You don’t want it to end, but it has to. He rests his forehead against yours and you keep your eyes squeezed closed, gasping around another sob.

“I love you,” you return. “I’m really scared that-”

“Hey,” Harry interrupts, grazing his thumbs over your eyelids. “Look a'me.”

Your eyes flutter open to find him staring intensely at you. His fingers are laced into your hair and his body is flush against yours, and you wish you never had to be further away than this.

“Yeh can call me anytime t'talk 'bout anything, yeah? 'Nd ’s not like it’s the last time I’ll ever see yeh, okay? We jus’ gotta figure out a way t'get t'each other. Tha’s all.”

You press another kiss to Harry’s lips and don’t respond. For some reason, talking about it makes everything seem more hopeless. It’s all so uncertain and you’re filled with doubts.

“Have t'go,” Harry whispers after a few silent moments. He clenches his jaw in frustration and that clutches you to him again, burying his face in your hair. He wants to keep this engrained in his memory. “Want yeh t'have somethin’.”

Harry pulls away from you and an immediate sensation of emptiness overwhelms you. He wipes his sleeve under his nose and sniffs, unzipping his bag. His fingers lock around an object toward the bottom and he tugs it loose.

“Harry,” you breathe, gripping your own elbows tightly. You shake your head violently. “I can’t take that, no.”

“’M givin’ it t'yeh.” He holds his journal out to you, bound in leather and scribbled with marker. You hesitate before taking it by the spine. “Can read it and tell me wha’ yeh think.”

You stare up at Harry with wide, anxious eyes. This is it. This is the goodbye.

“Let me know when you’re safe,” you plead. You can feel a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill, but you try to hold them in. There will be a lot of time to cry.

“Course,” Harry agrees. He grabs at the back of your neck and pulls you forward, pressing his lips to your forehead. Your fists close around the front of his hoodie and you stand like that for a minute. You take deep breaths, hoping to burn his scent into your nostrils.

“I’ll see yeh,” he whispers, and then the heat of him is gone, and he’s picking his way across the room, and you’re left with a beaten journal full of his most private thoughts.


The End

Sleeping With Bellamy Would Include...

Requested 

Originally posted by hvproductions


⋅ wearing his t-shirt
⋅ loving that it smelled like him
⋅ him loving you wearing it
⋅ waiting for him snuggled under the sheets until he would check the camp one last time
⋅ him always telling you that you didn’t have to wait for him
⋅ “You know I can’t sleep without you.”
⋅ watching him taking off the clothes with a smile
⋅ “Don’t droll too much, princess.”
⋅ him immediately pulling you close to him
⋅ you snuggling even closer so you were pressed to his side
⋅ you tracing his muscles with your fingers
⋅"Good night, Bell.“
 "Sweet dreams, princess.”
⋅ from time to time during the night you would shift so he would be spooning you
⋅ occasionally when he would be on a verge of breaking down you would shift positions
⋅ he would rest his head on your chest while you would be running your fingers trough his hair comforting him
⋅ him reading you a book he found when you couldn’t sleep
⋅ his voice always luring you to sleep
⋅ a lot of pillow talks
⋅ sometimes being woken up by the other one having a nightmare
⋅ comforting the one who had the nightmare
⋅ “It was just a dream.”
   "But it felt so real.“
  "But it wasn’t. Everything is fine and I won’t let anything happen to you.”
⋅ “Wanna talk about it?”
  “Just hold me.”
⋅ random kisses when neither of you couldn’t sleep
⋅ sometimes it would lead to hot make out session
⋅ that would always lead to sex
⋅ and God it was amazing
⋅ that would exhaust you enough to quickly fall asleep afterwards
⋅ from time to time you kicking him off the bed
⋅ being woken up by him cursing and groaning when it happens
⋅ watching him with innocent smile as he’s getting up from the ground
⋅ “Seriously, Y/N?!”
   "It’s not my fault that you are too big.“
⋅ him waking up first
⋅ sooner than necessary so he could watch you sleep
⋅ once it’s time to get up he would wake you up with a portion of kisses
⋅ "Time to rise and shine, princess.”
   "Leave me alone.“
⋅ "We need to get up.”
 "I hate you.“
 "You love me.”
⋅ him sometimes letting you sleep in
⋅ but him being too responsible to stay with you in bed whole day


Little things about Solangelo

-Will never touches Nico without permission, he knows he doesn’t like surprise contact
-Nico is the last to fall asleep, he wants to make sure Will is safe before closing his eyes
-Whenever Nico is depressed, Will never asks him to share. He makes him hot chocolate and waits for Nico to tell him
-Nico steals Will’s shirts. He likes how they smell and how they remind him of Will
-On Sunday mornings, Will greets Nico with a cup of coffee and a smile. In the afternoons, they make pasta together

Friends Part 9

Summary: You and Bucky are friends for a long time, but lately you start to develop romantic feelings for him. One day one of Tony’s parties everything changes but maybe not the way you wanted or expected.

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 3143

Thank you @amrita31199 you are the best and thank you for correcting so fast,

credits to the gif owners

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

You look at the giant compound in front of you, with all your courage you ring the doorbell. Bruce answers the door asking gently “What are you doing here? There is nobody home, didn’t you hear about what happened?”

“What happened, Bruce?” Your heart hurts, you are already preparing for the worst “I don’t know all the details, but Hydra wants to make another super soldier. Apparently, they are kidnapping civilians to make the experiments.”

This is so horrible, you feel sorry for all these people that are having their life destroyed but at the same time you are relieved that Bucky is alright and that it is just another mission “Shouldn’t you be there with them?”

You imagined that the Hulk would be helpful in these situations “I wouldn’t be very useful in that situation, they need to be discrete and the Hulk is nothing like that.”  You should go home, it seems like the Universe doesn’t want you two to be together. It is the only explanation.

“Oh I see, I am so sorry to bother you so late. “ You check your phone it is way past midnight “Can you let me know when they get home? I really need to talk to, Bucky.” Bruce opens the front door for you “Why don’t you sleep here tonight? It’s pretty late and Bucky will kill me if something happens to you.”

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Tantalizing: 08

Originally posted by jikookfantasy

Tantalizing: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08
Ship: Jungkook | Reader
Description: Back in high school, you were nothing more than a nerd Jungkook wanted to deflower, to get a good fuck from. When he sees you at the club, though, things have changed drastically, and his dominance starts to teeter on the edge.
Warning: No Smut, Slight Angst
Word Count: 5,281
A/N: This is my last chapter from the series, and though it doesn’t have smut and it might not satisfy all readers, I do hope you enjoyed and continue to stick around after this fic to see the others I have in store. This was my first actual series/fic to write and start here on Tumblr, and I’m glad I had such great support for it!

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His shirt (Logan X reader)

Prompt: Logan’s reaction when he sees you wearing one of his big sweatshirts

The mornings light shines bright, slipping past the closed curtains adorning your window. It fell upon you, disturbing your deep sleep. Groaning you tried to turn over and continue sleeping but the Suns rays seemed to be everywhere, hitting your face no matter where you tossed or turned. Sighing in defeat, you sat up and stretched. A yawn escaping your throat as some bones popped while you stretched, blinking the sleep from your eyes, you surveyed the room. Your clothes were lazily thrown into the floor, the sheets next to you empty. It wasn’t uncommon for Logan to get up earlier then you, it happened quite often really and you learned to accept it. Though you preferred to wake up next to him, all snug and warm, enjoying the morning together. Unfortunately for you, you weren’t a morning person and your boyfriend was. Glancing at the clock you checked the time, ten in the afternoon it read, briefly you wondered where Logan was and what he was doing. You never knew with that man, he could cause trouble with anyone or anything and it left you worried constantly. You trusted him but sometimes his temper would get out of hand, it wasn’t like there was a thing you could do about it now. Getting out of bed, you fixed the messy sheets. Straightening them, pulling the covers back on, and placing the pillows into their spot.

Deciding that it was good enough, your stomach growled, voicing its own hunger. You were in the safety of your own home, so walking out of the room not-fully-clothed wouldn’t be so bad but what if a guest came over? It wasn’t exactly ideal for you to greet them at the door in your bra and panties. Besides, your outfits were either too tight or fancy or just in the laundry since you didn’t feel energized enough to do it. Sighing, you figured you’d barrow Logan’s shirt. He wasn’t like he’d mind, it was just a shirt after all and his were always comfy and smelled just like him. It held a warmth to it that almost mimicked Logan’s, nodding you rummaged in his closest before snatching up a shirt and throwing it on. It was indeed bigger then your petite frame, the hem ending on your lower thighs. It covered everything you wanted it to, fit just right. Grinning you sniffed, the smell of pines and cologne meeting your nose, the cotton soaking in the warmth of the sun almost feeling like he was right beside you, holding you close. Your grin widened, imagining and savoring the moment before your tummy reminded you of the task at hand.

Marching into the kitchen, you searched the fridge for something to eat. A simple sandwich will do for now, you shrugged and took out some turkey and bread. Absentmindedly, you looked out your window, the forest meeting your eyes. It’s breathtaking green leaves twinkling from the morning dew and sunshine, birds chirping and singing their beautiful songs to their little hearts content, the grass a vibrant blend of different hues of green and the tree branches providing shadows and shelter to all the smaller animals. Transfixed by the scene, you took a closer look. A deer nibbled by a bush, munching on some berries as a smaller deer timidly wandered out into the open. From the looks of it, it was a baby, it’s eyes round with curiosity and interest as it sniffed the grass. A much bigger buck with antlers so big and wide you were sure he wouldn’t be able to fit past a doorframe, trotted next to the baby deer. Must be a proud father, you thought happily rather calmed at the sight. The family was just enjoying itself out there, nature could be so beautiful sometimes and you were left envious.

The opening and closing of a door brought you back to your own reality, finishing up the last bits of your food, you glanced over your shoulder. Logan entered and his brown eyes scanned your frame, a smirk tugging at his lips. His eyes slowly trailed from your thighs and up to your back, moving to your arms, focusing on the low hang of the tee and how it showed off your collarbones, then up to your face. Your hair was thrown in a messy bun previously, leaning against the kitchen counter you raised a brow.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” You asked unsure as to why he was staring. He shook his head chuckling, moving from the end of the room to right in front of you. Arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer to him, you cuddled close to him, your own arms snaking around his neck as he held you.

“No, you just look really good in my shirt.” His hands moved up and down your sides, eyes taking another peak at your ‘outfit’. Giggling you playfully pushed his shoulder, in return he smiled brightly. “What? I’m serious, you should wear my shirts more often.”

“Well, if you say so.~” You’d be sure to remember his words, this wouldn’t be the last time he’d find you in his shirt, even if he didn’t like it you would’ve still done it. “Just remember, you suggested it!” You announced, pressing a kiss to his cheek before laughter forced your lips away. Today seemed to be a good one.

Starved pt. 2

Tags:  @the-doggie-and-his-cuddlefish @fallingineternity @fangirlfiles1 @cup-of-blue  @reaper8439979 @lastfemaletimelord @zoeyheys @lizzysperil @trilight102@frustratedwaffle @the-diaries-of-a-nerd @vladimeme @prplzorua @anxiousdepressedkid

Chapter Warnings: Self-deprecating thoughts, angst, self-hatred, depression, language/cursing

Part 1

*

Virgil’s hands shook slightly, as he adjusted the sash on the figure in front of him, then stepped back and eyed it critically. 

The figure didn’t look back at him. It couldn’t. It didn’t have a head. 

But that wasn’t really important. It was built for function, not aesthetic. Besides which, all things considered, a headless hug doll wasn’t really outside the realm of Virgil’s aesthetic. 

Could creepy and pitiful be an aesthetic? 

He groaned, dropping his head into his hands. 

I am so pathetic.

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“Flat out” - h.s. Part 1

Prepare for the domestic cuteness.

—–

—–

It was more your flat than it was Harry’s now, after years of living in it. Originally, it had started under the premise that you would only remain in his flat for as long as it took you to find your own place. Which was fine, because he wasn’t staying there and you needed a place as uni started and you were friends, close friends, and it was all fine and dandy.

But then you really started to get busy with your schoolwork and considering the workaholic and professional perfectionist that you were, you were constantly on the move between classes and work and more classes and your second job. And besides, Harry was really only in and out at that point. The tour was coming to an end, the band was on their final days, and Harry really hadn’t thought much of it that you had now lived in his London flat for an entire year.

And also, he felt bad. He felt bad that you felt the need to always support and provide for yourself and that you were doing nothing but working yourself to death in order to pay your tuition and then be able to find your own living conditions and so finally he had said, “Just stay here. Stop worrying about it. You’re fine here, Y/N. Really.”

Though you’d fought it originally, you knew that in order to keep your perfect grades in tact and be able to get to work on time, there was no better place to live than where Harry was. You were centrally located now considering you’d applied to jobs close to Harry’s flat so you could walk, and you only had to walk a solid fifteen minutes to get on campus. You were comfortable, Harry was comfortable, all was well.

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Steve Rogers/Captain America - Scruffy

A few days ago Y/N stole Steve’s shaver from his travel pack since she couldn’t find hers and because he wasn’t supposed to on a mission for a while. She didn’t think it would be a problem. That is until Steve comes back from his mission with a little bit of scruff. The night takes a very interesting turn after dinner.

Requested by: @theoneandonlysaucymo

Pairing: Steve x Fem!Reader

Characters: Fem!Reader, Steve Rogers.Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Vision (Mentioned)

Warning/s: Smut, Dom!Steve, Captain kink, Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks)

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Inspired by the song Hoodie by Hey Violet and for @mafalopez‘s birthday. Hope you like it :) (I know it’s only tomorrow but I got kinda excited?)


Yuri stole Otabek’s hoodie. Like, for real. 

It wasn’t a : “I took it by mistake. Oh nevermind you can keep it” kind of stealing, no. He did it without permission, when Otabek wasn’t looking. He picked it the last time they saw each other, when they shared a hotel room in Sweden and Otabek was gone to grab some food for them.

He saw it peeking from Otabek’s suitcase and he hid it in his own one, underneath all of his clothes. 

Otabek asked about it once, on one of their numerous Skype sessions, “Do you remember my black hoodie? With the white square? I can’t find it anywhere. I had it in Sweden right?”

Yuri was thankful for the darkness of his room and praying Otabek couldn’t see the blush taking over his entire face as said hoodie was laying on top of his bed where he left it before answering the call. He shook his head in silence, not trusting his voice to answer properly.

“I’m mad, I loved that hoodie,” Otabek sighs and Yuri almost toldhim the truth but he was too much of a coward to do it. Yuri tried to change the subject the best he could, talking about his cat and what Victor did at the rink earlier that day.

Otabek never bring the subject of the hoodie again, until Yuri’s fatal mistake.

He came back from a rough day of practice and took a long hot bath before slipping into Otabek’s hoodie. He does it whenever he needs comfort. It’s almost like being hugged by him. The shirt doesn’t smell like him anymore because Yuri is not a savage and he actually washed the thing (he wears it all the time) but it still feel warm and soft. 

He is almost asleep on the couch, watching some movie Yuuri talked about when his phone pings with a Skype notification, without thinking he answers and hangs up almost immediately when he sees himself on screen. 

Because it’s so obivous he is wearing Otabek’s hoodie.

He takes the hoodie off and throws it across the room and in the mean time his phones starts ringing again.”Fuuuuuuuuck,”Yuri swears, looking at the screen where it’s clearly written OTABEK ALTIN, in big bold lettters. He doesn’t answer, instead he throws the phone at the other end of the couch.

He bites at his lip harshly, scared that Otabek might be angry at him, he looks at the hoodie laying on the floor, cursing himself for taking it from him in the first place. His phone beeps again but this time with a text message so he dares looking at it.

“Yura, come on. I’m not angry please pick up the phone.”

And then the video call from Otabek comes in again and this time Yuri does answer.

“I’m sorry Beka,” is the first time he says when the call connects and he sees Otabek’s face on the screen. He is smiling so it must be alright. 

“Oh wow, the ice tiger of Russia apologizing to me, mark that on the calendar.” 

Otabek’s words are filled with sarcasm but his face, his eyes says he is joking.

“Don’t be a ass,” Yuri mutters, “I really am sorry I should have told you.”

Otabek smiles at him, he pushes a few fingers in his hair, pulling at the longer strands now long enough to fall in his eyes, “It’s okay. You know you could have asked me and I would have lend it to you.”

“But you said you loved it.”

“Yeah, exactly why I would have let you borrow it.”

Yuri looks down, trying ot hid his blush again but he knows it’s not working so much with how warm his face suddenly feels, “Yura, can you put it back on? I wanna see you in it.”

Otabek’s voice is soft and gentle, and when Yuri looks back at his phone’s screen, he is still smiling, biting at the corner of his mouth like he might be nervous. 

Yuri gets up from the couch and pick the hoodie from the floor before putting it back on, trying his best not to drop his phone while he does it. He huffs an annoyed breath because now his hair is a mess and he looks at himself on the screen trying to fix it up.

When he looks back at Otabek’s face, he almost stops breathing when he sees the look in his eyes. He is not smiling anymore and he looks so serious, his eyes darker than usual, “I like you in it.”

“Oh my God, stop,” Yuri says, hiding his smile behind a sweater paw. And for a few beats they just look at each other without speaking a word. It might be just a video call but it feels like something is changing between them. 

“Why did you stole it?” Otabek says when he breaks the silence, Yuri only shrugs, not brave enough to give him a reply.

“Come on, tell me.”

“Smells like you,” Yuri says, his eyes looking anywhere but at his phone, “And it’s warm, and soft. Just like you.”

He hears a little laugh and when he looks at Otabek he is smiling so bright, Yuri can’t help but smile back. “You can keep it for now, Otabek says, “But it better smell like you when you give it back.”

Dating tony stark would include...

Originally posted by iwantcupcakes

  • Helping him with his 
  • him spoiling you
  • “Come on babe it’s not even expensive”
  • “Tony it’s worth more than my entire outfit”
  • “We can change that”
  • him being super protective over you
  • The other avengers loving you
  • Wearing his shirts  when he is away because they smell like him
  • him rambling a lot about everything and you always listen to him because you love how passionate he is about it
  • running your fingers through his soft hair
  • amazing cuddles
  • you bringing him coffee every morning
  • coffee dates
  • you always comforting him when he’s sad or depressed
  • a lot of kisses in your cheek and  your forehead 
  • a smile appearing in his face every morning when you wake up next to him, after all this time he still can’t believe you chose him to be with
  • you getting worry every time he have to go for a case
  • being friends with the avengers
  • they adore you because they can see how happy you make Tony and you two are adorable together
  • calling him Anthony when you get mad at him
  • lots of cuddling
  • amazing passionate sex
  • movie marathons
  • falling in love with him more and more everyday
  • him tickling you to make you laugh
  • because him think you laugh is the most beautiful sound he ever heard
  • him being very protective over you
  • HOt making out sessions
  • you loving when he hold your hand
  • him being the best boyfriend ever

anonymous asked:

You wrote something set after paper clip which was one of my fave ever msr cuddle fics. Could you please write them cuddling in another scenario? I love them platonically sleeping together and you tap into the emotions so well ❤️

Sorry it took me so long to answer this one. Here’s a cuddle fic set in season 2. Hope you enjoy.

Her first thought is that she’s crazy, paranoid like her partner. Lack of sleep Dana, she assures herself nipping at the glass of water she just poured herself. Cars park in front of your building all the time, she continues her internal monologue. This only bothers you because it’s 2 am and you can’t sleep. She nods to herself, but the feeling gnaws at her steadily. Her lights are off so she moves to the window, peeks outside. The car across the street is still there, unmoving but slightly askew as if ready to flee at any given moment. There’s a shadow inside, moving slowly, and Scully’s heartbeat picks up. This is not real, she tells herself taking a deep breath. That’s what her therapist keeps telling her: breathe in deeply, breathe out, repeat. Scully reiterates these words, mouths them silently, breathes in between. She wills herself to relax and thinks of Mulder. Her partner, who’s been nothing but forthcoming since she’s come back from… from whatever she’s come back from. Her mother refers to it as the time Dana went missing. As if it were a cute story you tell your children and grandchildren. Mulder calls it an abduction, his voice harsh when he says it, breaking guiltily on the last syllable. Unless he is looking at her. Scully doesn’t want him to see her like that, like a vulnerable bird out in the cold that needs to be taken inside, needs to be taken care of. But right now, she wants to call him anyway, tell him all about the car outside. Most of all she wants him to reassure her that she’s safe, that this is a figment of her overactive imagination. Not real. Her hand reaches out to grab the phone. But she can’t call him. He’ll come over and then he’ll glance at her, maybe not even say a word, and he’ll feel like he needs to protect her. No. She takes the phone with her, her gun too, and puts them on the nightstand. Just in case, she tells herself, before she tries, and fails, to fall asleep.

The next night, after she’s rubbed off the make-up she used to hide her exhaustion, Scully switches off all the lights and checks that the door is locked. Twice. Only then does she allow herself to peek outside. No car. She sighs in relief, laughs. She shuffles off to bed, praying she’ll get some decent sleep tonight.

As so often these days, luck is not on her side. Two hours later, she can no longer stay in bed, feels the desperate need to move. Without turning on the lights, Scully walks into the kitchen to boil tea water. A while ago her mother brought her this herbal tea claiming it would relax her. Tonight, she is willing to try. Everyone keeps telling her to relax, to enjoy life. As if her disappearance is nothing to worry herself with now that she’s back. The water gurgles softly in its kettle and Scully is too restless, too curious to stay there. She tiptoes to the window in her living room. She rolls her eyes at herself; there’s no reason to be quiet. But as soon as she looks outside, she sees it. The car. It is the same one, the shadow clearly visible inside. Her heart beats faster as sweat breaks out on her forehead. When is this going to end? In the kitchen, the kettle whistles angrily, startling her. Scully’s hand trembles as she pours the boiling water over the prepared tea bag, but the soft lavender scent is unable to calm her nerves. Safe for leaving her apartment, there is only thing she can do. Her hands curled around the hot mug, her eyes flicker to the cell phone on her kitchen table. She may not see it in the darkness, but she knows it’s there. She takes a sip from the scalding hot beverage before she puts it down, knowing it won’t help. There’s only one thing that will.

“Mulder, it’s me. I hope I didn’t wake you.” Her voice sounds robotic in her own ears. How often have they done this? Nighttime calls hoping the other one wouldn’t be angry. Usually it’s Mulder who calls her and she has to assure him that she doesn’t mind.  

“Scully, are you all right?” Unlike her, Mulder sounds alert. And, just like she suspected, terrified.

“I’m fine, Mulder. I just- I’m probably overreacting but…,” she takes a deep breath and hears Mulder hold his, “there’s a car in front of my building. It’s the second time I see it and I’m sure I’m overreacting, but…”

“I’ll be right there, Scully.”

“You don’t have to come over, Mulder. I just needed to… talk to someone, I guess.”

“Scully? I’ll be right there. I’m uhm, in the neighborhood anyway. See you soon. Just stay put.” He hangs up without a goodbye or explanation. That’s nothing out of the ordinary. In her neighborhood at this time of the night? That certainly is.

Not ten minutes later there is a knock at her door. She knows it’s Mulder, but she stares through the peephole, asks anyway. Just in case. These days she can’t be careful enough. Her furiously beating heart agrees.

“Hi.” It’s pure relief when Scully ushers Mulder inside. He lets himself be dragged to the window, trusting her to navigate through her pitch-dark apartment. “Look.” She tells him. He’s standing behind her, his chest gently pressing against her back. His head is over her shoulder, staring outside. Puffs of gentle breath brush her cheek and this, she realizes, is so much better than any herbal tea. She hasn’t felt this relaxed in days, weeks maybe. Thank you Mulder, she thinks, wishing the words were easier to say.

“Tonight is the second time I saw it, but who knows how long it’s been there and why.”

“A week.”

“What?”

“That car has been there a week.” Mulder, still close to her, tells her evenly. Her blood runs cold with a sudden, inexplicable sense of betrayal. Goose bumps cover her arms as the feeling disappears and makes room for something else, something new.  

“How do you know that, Mulder? Why didn’t you tell me?” Scully barely registers the squeaky quality of her voice. She turns around, pushes Mulder away. She misses his warmth immediately and it makes her angry; with him, the situation and worst of all herself.

“Because it’s me, Scully. It’s me.”

“You…” She tears at the drapes, stares at the car. It’s a black Sedan. Mulder likes to rent a Ford or a Taurus. In her mind his words don’t add up, don’t make sense. Where did he get that car? Her mind screams, unable to look at the bigger picture. Why is he watching her from a car in the middle of the night? The question, though, never comes.

“I uhm, I didn’t tell you because well, you keep telling me you’re fine. But Scully, I’m not.” Slowly, she turns to him. “I’m not fine. Most of the time when I’m not with you I stare at my phone. Waiting for it to ring and someone to tell me that… one night last week, I couldn’t sleep. So I drove here. I just wanted to make sure everything was in order. I didn’t want to wake you so I stayed in my car. I figured if anything were to happen, I’d be here. This time I’d be here.”

“Oh Mulder.” Scully doesn’t fight her tears, no longer fights the need to hold him close. His arms open and she falls into them. The anger she felt moments ago dissipates into nothingness.

“I’m sorry, Scully. I wasn’t thinking, I was just…”

“I’m not angry, Mulder.” She mumbles against his shirt. It’s warm, it smells fresh, and so much like him; she feels safe. When he huffs against her hair, she smiles. “Fine, I might be a bit angry. I wish you’d just said something but… I didn’t tell you either.” Communication 101, and they both flunked it. She wants to promise him, and have him promise her, that next time they’ll talk. Say what is real, speak their feelings. She knows it would be a lie. An empty promise made in the comfort of the darkness and each other’s arms. So she stays quiet, just hold him tighter.

“I should probably leave. Go home.”

“Did you sleep in your car, Mulder? That last week.”

“I… you know I don’t sleep much.”

“You need sleep, Mulder. It’s not healthy.”

“Thank you, Dr. Scully. It’s 2 am and look who else is awake.”

“You’re not leaving,” Scully decides, glancing up at him. Her eyes have gotten used to the darkness and she sees the exhaustion on his face, unmasked. “I want to make sure you sleep.”

“That sounds like a proposition.” His grin is so much more beautiful than the deep sorrow, the fearful lines all around his eyes and lips.

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” Scully admits, ignoring his remark, “and you haven’t been sleeping at all. So, come on.” She takes his hand and drags him towards her bedroom. He stops, glances at her.

“Scully?”

“Just to sleep, Mulder,” she whispers, glad that he can’t see her blush, “Just to sleep.” Mulder undresses slowly once they’re in the bedroom. Scully considers switching on a light, but she needs the darkness; pretend this is a dream, she tells herself. Dana Scully doesn’t indulge in moments like this. Just for one night, she repeats mentally, just tonight. She hears the rustle of Mulder’s jeans then footsteps. He stands there, a big, large shadow, but she is not afraid.

They don’t speak once he’s settled. There are no questions, no fears. Mulder is on his back, warm next to her. Scully moves closer, needs to be as close as possible. This is what is real, she thinks. I’m Dana Scully, I’m his partner and he is mine. She takes his hand in hers, touches each finger as if examining them one by one. She laces them with hers before she carefully turns on her side. Mulder has no choice but to follow her until he is behind her again, the big spoon to her little one. She holds his hand, puts it under her chin. Mulder buries his face in her hair, her neck, breathing softly. This is the first, the only thing, that feels right.

“Thank you, Mulder.” This time the words come easily, fill the room. Her eyelids begin to droop as her heartbeat slows down. She doesn’t know if there will be nightmares. Mulder is not a miracle worker. Though he would do everything in his power to convince her otherwise, she is certain of that. The thought puts a smile on her face and it remains there as sleep captures her, catches her as she falls.

“All you have to do is ask, Scully,” dream Mulder tells her, or maybe he is the real one holding her; it does not matter, “and I’ll hold you every night for the rest of our lives.” What a wonderful dream, she marvels, before all other thoughts leave her be.

i asked @beanpots for some of her favorite words and she said “grateful” so i guess here is a thing?


It’s a dark and stormy night when Viktor heads home, walking quietly through the rain-soaked streets with his umbrella clutched tightly in his hand.  

It’s been a long day, working with Yakov after everyone else left, working until his body was exhausted and his mind craved rest.  The hot shower he took at the rink helped, but he just wants the feeling of warmth, the kind of warmth that settles into his chest like a cozy, purring cat.

The streetlamps and headlights from the occasional passing cars reflect warm and golden in the puddles and rivulets running down the pavement, and he watches them, watches the ripples when he steps into the center of a glowing orb in the water.  They dance and shiver and soar, and he walks on.

His key in the door is quiet, and it’s dark when he finally steps inside, thunder rumbling off in the distance.  For a moment he thinks Yuuri might already be asleep, but then he hears a voice from the living room.

“Vitya?”

“I’m home, dear,” he calls back, soft as the rain on the windowpane as he slips out of his shoes and coat.  “Sorry I ran late.”

“It’s fine,” Yuuri answers, padding out of the living room to come hug him.  He’s soft and warm and cozy, clad in one of Viktor’s old shirts, some sweatpants, and fuzzy socks, and he smells like home.  Viktor holds him close and breathes in, and remembers that his apartment is a home now, home in a way it hasn’t been for years, and feels some of the day’s tension fall from his shoulders. 

“What’ve you been up to?” he asks, keeping his voice gentle and low as Yuuri takes his hand and leads him back to the living room, where Makkachin is curled up, asleep under her favorite blanket, while “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves” plays on the TV.  There’s another blanket on the couch, and Viktor smiles.  “Cozy evening in with Makkachin?”

“Mm,” Yuuri hums.  “Cozier with you here, too.”

Viktor squeezes his hand, smiling as a tendril of that warmth he’s been craving sneaks into his chest and wraps itself around his heart.  “I’ll go get into something more comfortable,” he says, letting go and turning to the bedroom.

“I’ll make you tea,” Yuuri says, shuffling into the kitchen.  The light turns on as Viktor walks away, still smiling, and sheds his clothes in favor of something loose, light, and comfortable, perfect for watching Disney movies on the couch in, and meanders back to the living room.

Yuuri is waiting for him, and a steaming mug sits on the coffee table, the tag on the teabag revealing in the dimness that it’s chamomile.  Viktor sinks into the cushions with a deep, bone-weary sigh, and Yuuri leans into his side, pulling the blanket over both of them.

“The tea is hot,” he says, and perhaps the steam curling in delicate wisps toward the ceiling renders the warning a little unnecessary, but Viktor appreciates it anyway, because nobody really used to warn him of hot drinks, before.

“Thank you,” he says, and kisses his fiancé’s temple.  The tea isn’t the only thing he’s grateful for.

Bts Reaction - helping you with insomnia

Seokjin


You don’t mean to wake anyone else up when you start rummaging through the dorm’s kitchen cupboards, looking for some teabags or some sort of malted hot drink or whatever  you can scrounge.  You’ve been not-sleeping on their sofa-slash-futon, and even though it’s not that comfortable you know it’s not the bed that’s keeping you up.  You’d probably be having exactly the same issue at home - except at home you already know where the mugs are, where the spoons are, and you wouldn’t have ridiculous tears of frustration springing from your eyes as you let another kitchen cupboard slam.  

You hear a familiar voice call your name, and turning on the spot you can just about make out Jin’s silhouette in the darkness, slowly becoming illuminated in the lamplight of the kitchen.  He looks adorable in his jammies, black hair a mess, rubbing his sleepy eyes.  

You wipe your eyes hastily, not wanting your crush to see you looking quite so pathetic but knowing that the puffiness of your eyes will probably give you away anyway.

“Can’t sleep?” Jin asks, leaning on the kitchen counter with a yawn, diplomatically not mentioning your disgustingly runny nose.  

“Not so much,” you reply, trying to hide your face behind the sleeves of your sweater, lest he see what a mess you are.  “Sorry if I woke you - I was trying to make a drink but I don’t know where you keep anything.”  Jin perks up, straightening and immediately putting the kettle on to boil.

“I can do that for you.  Go sit, I’ll make some coco.”  He smiles kindly at you, thankfully turning away before he can see the blush on your cheeks.  You go back to your futon and sit, waiting, watching him potter about the kitchen contentedly.  

“Thanks Jin.”  You take one of the two mugs he was holding in both your hands and sink back, surprised when he sits himself next to you, so close that it makes your heart flutter nervously.  You sit and chat and drink your coco quietly, falling into silence once Jin puts something mindless on the TV for you to both watch, bizarrely reluctant to return to his own bed.  

Before you know it he’s nodded off beside you, his broad shoulders slumping against you, his head slowly falling to the side until it’s leant on top of yours.  Although it initially makes your pulse race to have so much contact with the object of your affections, the soft, slow sound of his breathing eventually calms you and lulls you into a deep, peaceful sleep.  

Originally posted by waejin

Yoongi

As someone that suffers with insomnia, it never fails to frustrate you just how easily Yoongi falls asleep.  You know it’s because he works so hard, with all those long hours in his studio, but it’s not as if you laze around all day either.  You sigh at the sight of him sleeping next to you, so peaceful and content that you can’t help but feel a stab of envy - something you then immediately feel guilty for afterwards.  Your insomnia is by no means his fault, and you wouldn’t ever wish this on anyone else either, so it’s better that he sleeps so soundly, even when you can’t.  

You don’t know where they come from exactly, but suddenly tears start falling from your eyes, sliding sideways down your face and dampening the pillow underneath, chin trembling as you try to keep them in.  You swear you don’t make a sound, but you must have done, because one of Yoongi’s eyes unexpectedly opens, squinting at you in the dark.  

“Not sleeping again?” he asks, his voice hoarse through disuse.  You nod sadly, more tears spilling down your cheeks as you screw up your eyes, overcome with frustration.  While they’re still closed you feel Yoongi get up, his weight leaving the bed, and for a second you think he must’ve gone off to sleep somewhere else, annoyed with you for waking him up, but no.  He’s turned on some music; it’s classical, soft and gentle, and totally unexpected.  

Opening your eyes you see Yoongi slipping back into bed, pulling the covers up and over the two of you as he lies down close.  

“This usually helps when I can’t sleep.  Just keep trying.  It’ll happen eventually.”

“Since when can’t you ever sleep?”  you smile sarcastically, wiping your tears, and Yoongi just rolls his eyes at you, corner of his lips twitching into a smile too.  

“Shut up,” he huffs, feigning annoyance, but you just keep on smiling as you lean closer to him and steal a kiss, letting it linger.  Yoongi has a soft look in his eyes when you pull away, but then he turns over and shuffles right back so his back is pressed to your chest, draping your arm over him so that he’s the little spoon.  “Love you,” he whispers into the dark, and you smile against the space between his shoulder blades, pressing another kiss there.

“Love you too.”  

Eventually, comforted by the scent of his skin and the warmth of his slender body in your arms, you drift off to the gentle sound of oboes and violins.  You hate it when Yoongi’s right, but on this occasion you’re glad he is.  

Originally posted by yoongichii

Hoseok

You toss from side to side in bed, huffing frustratedly as you stare up the ceiling, feeling like the darkness of the night and the silence of the room is just mocking your inability to fall asleep.  You flip onto your front, smacking your pillow for being too hot, too lumpy, and then kicking your legs against the mattress as you let out of a muffled wail into the bedcovers, throwing a tantrum like a toddler.  You’re even crying now, for heaven’s sake, so tired that your eyes are stinging, your whole body aching.  

“Babe?  What’s going on?”  Hoseok’s voice comes from behind as he leans over you, resting his arm across your shoulders and pressing a kiss to the side of your head.  “Did you have a nightmare?  You were thrashing all over the place.”  

You turn over onto your back, looking up at him miserably as tears glisten in your eyes.  

“I can’t sleep…”

“Again?”  Hobi’s face turns sympathetic as he stares down at you, wiping your cheeks, but by the time you’ve collected yourself he looks thoughtful instead, cocking his head to the side like he always does when he has a good idea.   “Why don’t we try some exercise?”

“Seriously, Hoseok?”  you scoff, lifting an eyebrow at him.  Like you’re really in the mood for sex right now, c’mon.   He laughs at your expression, shaking his head quickly.

“I don’t mean like that.  I mean like, a jog or something.”  Now your second eyebrow lifts, and Hobi ends up laughing even more.

“That’s an even worse idea than the last one.”  

“C’mon,” he persists, hopping out of bed like he’s already had a full night’s sleep.  It’s a mystery where he gets his never-ending energy from.  “We may as well give it a try, just twenty, thirty minutes.  What’ve you got to lose?”  Nothing, you suppose, and it’s with that thought that you drag yourself out of bed far less enthusiastically than Hobi and throw on some clothes suitable for running.  

Your lack of fitness in comparison to Hoseok is just embarrassing, quite frankly.  You spend the whole of the jog trailing slightly behind him trying to catch your breath, wondering why on earth you agreed to it.  Still, the view is nice, watching Hobi’s pert little bottom bounce in his sweats as he runs, and by the time you get back to the apartment you’re even more tired than before, barely able to drag yourself back into bed, nevermind take off your sweat dampened clothes.  

You’re vaguely aware of Hobi telling you he’s going to take a shower as you pull the covers over yourself, and by the time your boyfriend comes back into the room you’re fast asleep and drooling slightly, a healthy exercise-induced flush still on your cheeks. He’s so glad to see you resting that he has to take a minute just to stand and watch you, smiling to himself, so proud that he was able to help.

Originally posted by theseoks

Namjoon

You know the very moment you wake up that you’ve barely slept a wink, even though your body is telling you that you’re now wide awake and ready for a new day at 1am.  It’d be ok if you could stay feeling so fresh, but you know that within half an hour you’ll feel exhausted again and be completely unable to sleep until god knows what time in the morning - usually about an hour before you actually have to get up, if your normal habits are anything to go by.

You’re so sick of this.   It’s been happening every night for the past week, and you don’t know what it is that’s doing it.  There’s been no change in your schedule, no big pressures at college, no family problems and no relationship issues save the fact that Namjoon is once again completely absent from your shared bed.  You sigh heavily, looking at the empty space that belongs to him.  You’re sick of that, too, now you think of it.  

You know he’s busy with the comeback - there’s a lot of pressure on them after winning the Billboard award to come back bigger and better than ever - but you wish he’d at least try to come to bed at the same time as you once in awhile.  Maybe that’s why you’re not sleeping so well anymore?  Your heart starts to ache from just how much you’re missing him, tears starting to fall from your eyes, and you’re more grateful than ever that he’s just a room away for now, rather than having half a world separating you.  

Quietly, you pad towards Namjoon’s studio in just your underwear and one of his biggest shirts, wiping your eyes with the sleeves that smell like him and calling his name quietly from the doorway, hoping he won’t be mad that you disturbed him.  

He swivels in his desk chair, pulling his headphones off with a frown, but when he sees you standing there looking so small and sad, your pretty eyes shining in the dim lights, he rises from his desk and comes to take you in his arms without a moment’s hesitation.

“Come to bed, please Joonie?”  you ask, snuggling into his chest as he holds you tight, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.  “I miss you.”  

“Ok baby, I’ll be right there,” he tells you softly, and although he lets you leave without him to go climb back into bed, Namjoon appears in your bedroom only a few minutes later, stripping himself of his sweater and pants before climbing in next to you and once again using his large form to cocoon himself around you.  “Sorry for making you miss me…”  

“You’re worth the wait,” you reply, pressing a kiss against his bare chest as he runs his fingertips along your arm soothingly.  He hums happily, face pressed to your hair.  

“Close your eyes baby, I’m here now.”

Originally posted by myloveseokjin

Jimin

“Jimin,” you whisper, leaning over his sleeping form and surveying the relaxed features of his face with envy.  He’s so pretty when he’s asleep, his pouty lips slightly parted, but even though Jimin’s nice to watch for a while it’s not enough to keep you amused in the long run, and that’s why you call his name again, giving him a gentle shake.  

“Hmm?  What’s wrong?”  he asks confusedly, one eye opening before the other as he looks up at your blearily, rubbing his hand over his face then pushing his fringe back from where it’s flopped forward.  

“I can’t sleep,” you tell him, pouting, and Jimin sighs, reaching up and thumbing your cheek gently as he frowns, concerned.  

“Are you still worrying about your exams?”  

“Maybe,” you admit, worrying  your bottom your lip.

“You’ll do fine, honey, I told you already,” he says dismissively, yawning, “You studied so hard, there’s no way you can fail.”  You fall back onto your pillow with a huff, anxiety making it feel like you’ve got a rock weighing heavy your chest.  “Now, try to get some more sleep.”  You turn your head, suddenly upset when you see that Jimin has turned his head to the side and closed his eyes again already.  Doesn’t he know that that’s exactly what you’ve been trying to do for the last three hours?  

“It’s not just the exams,” you admit into the dark, your voice wavering as tears gather in your eyes, making them sting.  You’d expected Jimin to be asleep again already so you’re pleasantly surprised when you feel a tender hand reach over and caress your cheek, a gentle kiss pressed to your other.    You don’t get long to enjoy it though - the next moment Jimin’s rolling over and grabbing something from his bedside table and turning on the lamp, illuminating his room and making your eyes sting all the more.  He sits up, gesturing for you to do the same, and then plonks a notepad and pen in your lap, smiling softly.   

“What’s this for?” you ask, flipping the pages open and finding them blank.  Jimin pulls the cap off the pen and then passes it to you.  

“You’re going to write down everything that’s bothering you, and then we’re going to sit and go through them all until you’re not worrying anymore,” he answers, leaning his head back to rest against the wall.  He looks exhausted and suddenly you’re full of guilt for waking him up and making him humour you like this, almost bursting into tears again at just how sweet he is.  “Come on,” he encourages, nudging you gently, “The sooner you get started the sooner we both get to sleep.”  


Originally posted by amsimaria

Taehyung

“Jagi?”  Taehyung calls quietly, and you feel his hand reach out and touch your shoulder, shaking you gently.  “Jagi, are you crying?”  he persists, moving his body closer behind you to spoon you, wrapping his arms around you.  You sniff raggedly into the pillow, trying to wipe your eyes before gets catches sight of you looking so pathetic.  You hadn’t meant to wake him, but Tae always has been a light sleeper, and the shaking of your shoulders and quiet sobs must have alerted him to your state even in the darkness of his room.  “Are you upset with me?””

The idea of him thinking this is anywhere near his fault makes a fresh batch of tears roll, and you grab his hand that’s resting on your stomach, squeezing it hard.  

“No, baby,” you choke out, shaking your head against the pillow, “It’s not you.  I just can’t sleep… and I’m so tired.”  You start crying again, muffling your sobs into the blanket, and for the longest Tae stays quiet, his hot breath blowing gently on the back of your neck in-between the kisses that he presses there, shuffling his body even closer to yours, like he’s trying to mold the two of you together.  

“Wanna hear a story my grandma used to tell me when I couldn’t sleep?”  he offers after a while, and you smile bitterly at the wall opposite the bed, wishing you believed that that could work.  

“I think I’m a little old for bedtime stories, Tae,” you reply, not unkindly, but you still feel your boyfriend’s body tense a little behind you, like you’ve hurt his feelings.  “But it’s worth a try, right?” you concede, willing to humour him at least.  

You feel him shuffle behind you, and you can just imagine the boxy grin he’s got on his face as he starts to talk in that low, husky voice of his, telling you a story about fairies and goblins and princesses that makes absolutely no sense.  You’re fairly certain that this is not the story his grandmother would of told him, but rather one that’s been embellished by Taehyung’s strange and vivid imagination, but it still seems to do the job.  Listening to his soothing voice, feeling the words tickle against your skin as his arms hold you tight… somehow it really does help.  Your tears dry up, your body relaxing into the mattress, and before you can realise that sleep is coming it’s already dragged you under, falling into a deep, undisturbed sleep in Taehyung’s arms.

Originally posted by mvssmedia

Jungkook

Lying on your back, you stare at the ceiling and try to decipher the stucco patterns that look down on you as your eyes burn from lack of sleep.  You didn’t get a wink last night and it looks like it’s going to be the same tonight; you’d thought inviting Jungkook over to play video games into the early hours would help tire you out, but it seems like you’ve got no such luck.  

Now all you can think about is how your crush is stuck out there on your sofa by himself, when all you really want is for him to be warming the bed space next to you, or better yet, warming you.  You’ve spent so many nights wondering how it’d feel to be wrapped in those deceptively strong arms of his - something that really doesn’t help you sleep, seeing as how thinking about those muscles usually leads to you thinking about others, and so on and so on, till you’re too flustered to even lie still, let alone sleep.  

Frustrated tears start to gather in your eyes as you lie there helplessly; what’s wrong with you?  What hope do you have of ever telling Kookie how you feel when you can’t even do something as simple as fall asleep?

You cry silently to yourself for a while, till you’re too tired to even do that anymore, and then prise yourself out of bed to go to the bathroom to fetch some tissue for your running nose.  You have to cross through the living room to get there, and as soon as you step inside the room you notice a soft, electronic glow coming from the other side your sofa.  

“Kookie?” you call softly, padding forward to see Jungkook lying there on his phone, scrolling up and down with tired eyes.  Those tired eyes turn wide as he looks up at you and takes in your dishevelled appearance.

“You not sleeping?” he asks and you shrug, trying to play it down despite how obvious it is that you’ve been crying.  

“I’m gonna head back in a sec… just needed the bathroom.”

“Oh. Ok.”  Jungkook’s wearing a funny expression on his face, one that you can’t decipher, but within seconds he’s back on his phone so you leave to his own devices, sighing softly to yourself as you go.

He’s not interested in you, of course he’s not.  How could you ever think someone like him could be?  God, you’re really not going to sleep a wink now, not after seeing that look in his eyes - whatever it was.  

You don’t expect Jungkook to say anything to you as you cross back through the room; you don’t even bother to look at him on the sofa lest it start you off again.  So when you come to your doorway to find Jungkook standing in it in just his sweats you almost jump out of your skin, yelping and clutching your heart.

“Namjoon said white noise can work sometimes,” he says innocently, waving his phone in front of your face with a smile.

“Namjoon? Kookie, it’s like 4am!” you say incredulously, internally cringing when that sweet smile of his crumbles.  

“I just thought it might help.”  Jungkook shrugs, looking sheepish, and your heart melts, pulling him into a hug as you thank him.  “I can’t sleep either,” he suddenly says as you move to walk past him.  You look over your shoulder at him, noting the adorably shy expression on his face.  “Can I… can we try it together?”


Originally posted by jungkookfortunekookies

Bittersweet Anguish - T.H

A/N: Something small n sad that I’ve been working om

Warnings: Sadness at first but overall fluff


“I’ve been trying so hard lately, I’m trying so damn hard to make long distance work but it feels like it amounts to nothing.” You said and placed a shaky finger on the end call button, preparing to hang up before things got to rough.

You new any moment now someone would knock on his trailer door and he’d have to leave for filming, then you wouldn’t receive a call, text or even snapchat from your boyfriend of 2 years for the next 3-5 days. But you’d sit by your phone and wait for him to text, even though you knew he was beyond busy.

“I love you Tom, but i need to know that you love me too and i’m not just weighing you down” You finished

“You know i love you darling, i’m doing this for us. W-when I come home-” Mid way through his sentence, Tom was cut off by that dreaded knock. The knock that ended your call at only 4 minutes, 32 seconds.

4 days without a word from Tom and all you get is a 4 minute, 30 second call

“I don’t want to have to feel like a burden to my own boyfriend Tom, I’m sorry, just- I don’t want this anymore” With that you ended the call. Once Tom’s face was off of the screen you broke down, letting all of the pent up emotion out into you and Tom’s shared apartment. Tessa ran up to you, whimpering and whining, she missed Tom just as much as you.

You hated feeling so selfish, but you couldn’t help but want some love from your long term boyfriend. You knew how important the movie was to him, he couldn’t have any distractions right now.

You missed his cologne enveloping you as you slept besides him, his arms around your waist and sometimes his nose pressed against your neck. You craved his company and affection. You wanted- no needed to feel like lips against yours and his laugh echoing off the walls of your 2 bedroom apartment.

Now, all you’d had for the last 4 months was his pillow and a few t-shirts that no longer smelled like him, you had memories and videos of the practical jokes you use to play on each other and the rare gif or boomerang where he’d be looking at you like you’re the only girl that matters or placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

You waited and waited, not a call nor text from your boyfriend- now ex boyfriend. With a sigh you gave up staring at your phone, realising it wasn’t going to buzz anytime soon and slid into bed, deciding to sort out your new living situation in the morning. Tessa curled up at the end of bed and plonked down, you loved having her company.

-

You had to say it must’ve been around 4 am when you woke up to someone placing what sounded like keys on the nightstand and slid into bed next to you, your sudden reflex was to scream but the person slammed a hand down over your mouth before you could.

You wondered why Tessa didn’t freak out and start attacking the intruder, always being overly protective of both you and Tom.

“Shh, It’s just me darling” The British voice spoke

Suddenly you felt all your muscles relax, all trace of fear and thoughts that you were about to die fled your brain, it was just Tom.

“Tom? W-what are you doing here? You’re meant to be filming” You spoke after he removed his hand

“I spoke to the director and told him i had a family emergency, they’re going to be filming with the other guys for a few days until i can get back” He started “After you hung up i got on the first plane i could and here i am” he finished

Your heart practically melted. Only a few hours ago you were mad at him, now you just wanted to jump into Tom’s comforting arms

“I’m sorry, i-i was selfish and-” Tom cut you off by placing a soft kiss on your trembling lips

“I’m here, i couldn’t wait a second longer to see you again” He spoke once he pulled away

You practically threw yourself into his arms, you could’ve sworn his muscles had gotten bigger in the last 4 months but you weren’t complaining.

Yesterday’s argument was completely forgotten as you enveloped yourself in his body. Arms and legs intertwined as he rocked you two back and forth.

“Let’s talk about what happened in the morning, okay darling? I don’t know about you but i’m dead tired and it’s been awhile since i’ve slept in a bed this comfortable”

You laughed lightly at his successful attempts to soften the air between you two

“I have no objections Spiderman”

Originally posted by parkrpeters