try to reach for his hand

The Five Times You See Dean Winchester Shirtless

Word Count: 1,658

Warnings: None.

Originally posted by justjensenanddean


The first time you see Dean Winchester shirtless, he’s sporting a large gash on his shoulder that you have to stitch up. He’s sitting on the foot of your bed, crumpled up T-shirt in his hand and looking at you expectantly.

Meanwhile, you’re trying not to implode from how beautiful he looks in the pale light the room’s lamp is shedding on him. Even though he’s thoroughly bruised and bloodied up, his green eyes are twinkling and his chest is slightly heaving. The wound probably hurts him and you blink a few times to knock yourself out of your reverie.

“Let’s get this over with,” he mutters, reaching for the large bottle of liquor he probably had stashed in Baby’s backseat.

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sounds of silence.

inspired by x (aka, harrys’ need to make sure he hasn’t hurt your feelings)

There are different kinds of silences. Some are comfortable and peaceful, like when you’re sitting in a moving car - the sun is high on the sky, and he turns to look at you with a small smile on his face, his hand already reaching for yours, and his warmth envelops your cool skin, his touch like the rays of sun that filtered fleetingly through the leaves of the trees. 

Other silences are loaded ones, filled with momentum - and they’re not all bad - some are that feeling of almost bursting in to laughter at an inappropriate time, that exact moment when your stomach starts to hurt a bit from trying to keep it all in, and you’re desperately avoiding his eyes because you know… you know that if you so much as glance at his glittering, emerald eyes - you will both have trouble standing from laughing so hard, clinging to each other as the laughter bubbles up in your throats and spills over your lips. 

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Originally posted by demondetoxmanual

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader
Warnings: Blood, canon-related injuries, talk about self doubt and anxiety, Dean being kind of a temporary asshole.
Author’s Note: Am I too late for angst day? Don’t be scared, y'all know I can’t help but add a bit of fluff.
Summary: You’ve been hiding your feelings for Dean for months now and when you have a fight, you reach your breaking point.

You’ve got your hands pressed hard on Sam’s abdomen in the backseat of the Impala, your hands quickly turning crimson as you try to stop the bleeding.

Dean’s driving, his hands clenched so tight to the wheel that his knuckles are white. The muscle in his jaw is ticking repeatedly, and he doesn’t look at you as he races back to the bunker.

“Dean–” you say, trying to get his attention. You want him to say something, anything, because anything would be better than this silence.

“Don’t.” He barks.

You open your mouth to reply, but Sam groans, and you turn your attention back to him. “Hang in there, Sammy.” You say, keeping an eye on his pupils and monitoring his pulse.

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Old friends - Roman Josi (smut)

Requested by anon: Roman Josi jealous smut please? 😏

A/N: Sorry it took so long! I hope you like it!

Word count: 1744

Warnings: Smut. Cussing.

Master list

Originally posted by laurastacey

“C’mon (y/n), let me pay.” Jackson complains, trying to reach over and grab the piece of paper from your hand.

“No way, Jax.” You say, pulling your wallet from your bag and giving the waitress your credit card. “It’s your last day in Nashville, you are so not paying.”

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anonymous asked:

mckirk - where joanna is ill with a serious virus

  • Bones has finally been relaxing a bit. They’re on their way to York Town to deliver important deep-space research material to researchers there, and the prospect of a few days off puts everyone in a good mood. Bones especially. Though the fact that there haven’t been any incidents in a while (no casualties, no surprise attacks, no green giant space hands trying to take them down) has helped him a lot, too. And it shows in Bones’ behavior. He wakes Jim up with kisses, and Jim smiles lightly when soft lips brush over his cheek and his neck. “Hmm, you’re in a good mood,” Jim hums quietly, reaching out and running his hand through Bones’ hair. “Well, you know, you haven’t spoken much yet,” Bones replies, and Jim huffs. “Rude,” he says, but he happily leans in closer when Bones kisses him. Properly this time, before Jim rolls both of them around to straddle his hips. “Let me show you just how much more your mood could improve.”
  • It does. Jim is in a good mood, too, when he sits down in his chair on the bridge. Since Bones is with him on the bridge, they’re not exactly subtle about it, either, even though they think they are. Literally all of the bridge crew catches those not-so-subtle glances, Bones’ hand on Jim’s shoulder, and the fact that the doctor is smiling, even if ever so lightly. 
  • But of course, one quick message changes all of that. Bones groans when his PADD notifies him of a call. “It’s Jocelyn,” he says, and Jim huffs. “You don’t have to pick up,“ he says, but Bones turns around and leaves the Bridge. The last thing Jim hears is the other pick up the phone with a quick and snappy: ”what?“
  • Bones is back maybe two minutes later, and the look on his face is fear rather than anger. “I need to get to Earth,” he says to Jim, and Jim frowns. “That’s not really en-route,” he says. “Get me. To Earth,” Bones insists, and Jim gets up, grabbing Bones’ arm to pull him to privacy. “What’s the matter?” “Joanna,” Bones says, “Joanna is sick. The doctors there can’t figure out what it is. I gotta go back, Jim. Put me on a shuttle-” “You hate shuttles,” Jim says, “and we’re too far away from Earth for you to make it there alive.” Jim reaches out, fingers brushing over Bones’ cheeks in an attempt to calm him down a little. “Breathe, Bones,” he says, “don’t get yourself in a panic attack over this.” “Damn it, Jim,” Bones says, a sentence Jim hears almost daily, but not often with such frustration in his tone. Jim lets go of the other, turning around to walk back to his chair. “Chekov, change direction to Earth. Full speed ahead, Mr. Sulu.”
  • Starfleet Officials be damned, Jim ignores every message when its recognised they’re off course, and they make it to Earth as quickly as they can. Bones disappears into the hospital, fully ignoring the quarantine the doctors have placed his daughter in, and that means Jim gets to see him even less, because now the doctors fear Bones got himself potentially infected, too. Some infectious virus she got on an excursion to Mars. A few other kids in her class are affected by it as well, and Jim makes sure to pay them a visit with candy and helium balloons, wishing all of them a speedy recovery. Even if it doesn’t really help them and they can’t eat the candy without throwing it back up, most of the kids are amazed by the visit of the (in)famous captain Kirk. 
  • Bones lifts quarantine pretty quickly, yelling at doctors for their incompetence. Jim hates to admit it, but it’s much more amusing not to be on the receiving end of that yelling. That said, though, now that he’s allowed in Joanna’s room, Jim makes sure to pay her a visit. 
  • “I heard you brought the others candy,” Joanna says as a greeting, glancing at Jim’s empty hands judgmentally. “The others also threw up said candy, so I decided to save you that fate,” Jim replies, sitting down in the chair next to her bed, and he reaches out for her hand. She looks pale, her skin feels clammy, somehow hot and cold at the same time. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” Jim asks, and Joanna shakes her head. With those tubes going into her nose, she looks even more sick. “I think only dad can make me feel better,” Joanna replies, “just… make sure he rests, too, okay? Dad looks stressed out.” “He always does,” Jim agrees, “and he’s stressed out because he’s worried about you. How was Mars, though?” “Boring,” Joanna replies, and Jim listens to her talk about their visit to the colony there, and how the only exciting thing was a dust storm. 
  • Outside the door, both of them hear Jocelyn and Bones argue over Jo’s well-being, and Joanna sighs. Jim reaches out for the remote, turning on the television instead. “Alright, scoot over. I’m gonna watch TV in bed with you.” “What if you get sick, too?” Joanna asks, and Jim laughs. “Your dad lifted quarantine, so it doesn’t spread as much as the other doctors initially thought. I’ll be fine,” he says, lying down in bed next to her, an arm around her shoulders, and they watch TV together.
  • Bones shakes him awake a little later, the expression on his face a little softened by the look of Joanna fast asleep in Jim’s arms. “Is she okay?” he asks quietly, and Jim nods. “I mean, physically, you know better than I,” he replies softly, and Bones sits down at the edge of the hospital bed. “It’s an alien form of meningitis,” Bones says, and Jim looks at him a little sheepishly, “brain infection,” the doctor continues to explain. “That sounds awful,” Jim replies, running a hand through Joanna’s hair. “Yeah. Could’ve been treated already had the other doctors thought of checking the spinal fluid-” “Bones, I love you, but you’re grossing me out,” Jim replies,  leaning in to kiss the other’s worried pout into a small smile, “so Joanna’s gonna be okay?” “Yes,” Bones replies. “Good,” Jim says, “then this was more than worth it.” “Hmmhmm,” Bones agrees quietly as Jim slips off the bed and reaches out for his jacket, “worth what?”
  • Jim’s temporarily suspended for deliberately delaying a Starfleet mission and disobeying authoritarian orders. Bones is furious when he finds out. Partially at Jim for not telling him. But mostly at Starfleet officials for blaming Jim, and Jim patiently sits at the meeting table (with a very uncomfortable looking Spock) while the doctor next to them uses colourful southern slang in an attempt to convince them otherwise, but he’s not really succeeding. In fact, Bones almost gets himself suspended too, had it not been that Bones treated one of the Official’s kids for the same disease as Joanna. In the end, the three of them walk it off with a few warnings and temporary micro-management on the Enterprise, but when Jim looks at Bones’ shoulders (still stiff, but less so than before), and the other reaches out for Jim’s hand, the captain knows he’d do it again in a heartbeat.
You, Me, & Beebee

“She just–she fell over, and then she walked into a wall.”  When Poe walked into the small apartment, you were on the floor, cradling the young, orange mutt in your arms.  There were wet streaks down your face from crying, but you just kept rocking back and forth with the poor, little animal.  You and Poe had picked her up off the streets, alone and dirty, with no tags.  After weeks of trying to find her owner, you decided to keep her.  Poe had insisted.

Poe dropped his bag to the ground and rushed over to where you were still trying to explain what had happened.  “I came home to feed her, but she wasn’t–she wasn’t herself and–”

“Okay, okay.”  Poe knelt down next to you and brushed a hand over your head before reaching down to scratch the dog behind her ears.  The dog lazily turned her head to lick his hand.  Poe unzipped one of the many pockets of his green flightsuit and pulled out his phone.  “Have you called the vet?”

You nodded and rubbed your face against your shoulder, still clutching onto the pup.  “Yeah, I was just waiting for you and the truck.”

Poe finished sending the quick text on his phone, probably to Wexley saying he’d be late coming back after lunch.  He pushed the phone back into his pocket and leaned forward slightly to press a kiss into your hair.  “You did good, babe.  Come on, Beebee.”  Poe wedged his arms under the dog and lifted her up out of your lap and carried her down the two flights of stairs.

Poe drove that old pick up the way you imagined he flew a jet.  Eyes always scanning ahead for the opportune time to change lanes, and making sure to always use his blinker.  You made it to the vet in record time and they whisked your sweet Beebee back into the emergency exam room as soon as you were through the door.

Your teeth were biting into your knuckles as you watched the door impatiently.  You nearly jumped when Poe wrapped his arms around you and whispered that Beebee was going to be okay; she was a tough little mutt.  You turned around and pushed yourself against him, burying your face into the fabric of his flightsuit.  There was that familiar whiff of metal and jet fuel, the smells that always seemed to cling to his uniform even after repeated washings.

“I should have worked from home today,”  you mumbled against him, your voice ending in a sob you tried to swallow back.  “I don’t have to go in to answer emails…”

“Shh.”  Poe wrapped his arms around you and rubbed a hand over your back.  “It’s not your fault.”

Poe stood there, solid and unwavering, while you cried into his chest.  If he was worried about Beebee, and you knew he had to be, he didn’t show it.  He was strong for the both of you, hoping the little pup you both had brought into your home and loved was going to pull through.

Later, when the vet brought you back to see Beebee, Poe held you again as you cried tears of relief.  The little rascal had eaten something she wasn’t supposed to, but they flushed her system and gave her some fluids.  Beebee was nearly back to her usual self, tail wagging and trying to lick all over your faces when you and Poe sat down next to her.

“See, nothing to worry about.”  Poe squeezed your hand and smiled at you, but you could see how his shoulders had relaxed and the remainder of a few of his own tears that he’d pushed back with his other hand.

You smiled back and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek.  “We’re puppy-proofing when we get home.”

“Damn right we are.”


For @spooky-doings for the cuddle prompts, #18 cuddling and crying <3

Kim Donghyun || Shorty

Requested by Anon

Genre: Fluff

You and Donghyun held hands while walking through the store. “What’s next on the list?” You ask him as he held the grocery list in his hand. Donghyun examined the grocery store before telling you the next item you two should get.

“Potato chips.” He says. You and him make your guys’s way to the chips and crackers aisle and look for the classic potato chips, finally spotting them sitting on the top shelf.

You stand on your tip toes, extending your arm out and trying to reach the potato chips on the top shelf, but since you were too short, you couldn’t succeed. You hear Donghyun chuckling behind you and you turn around to face him, glaring at him as he laughed at you.

You cross your arms. “Stop laughing at me, I’m not that short!” You spat. He doesn’t listen, though, and continues laughing his heart out. You glare and stomp your foot on the ground, getting annoyed by him. “Fine, how about you get the damn potato chips, then?!”

He shrugs and approaches the shelf, simply grabbing the bag of potato chips from the top shelf like it was nothing and placing it in the cart. You widen your eyes before glaring at him again. “How can you make it look so easy?” You ask him. He chuckles. “Because I’m tall, unlike you.”

You puff out your cheeks at his response and he just squishes them before pushing the cart and walking away. After you and Donghyun were done paying for the groceries, you two walked out of the store, carrying bags in your hands and walking back to the Brand New Music building.

You and Donghyun stepped foot inside of the Brand New Music practice room, seeing Daehwi, Woojin and Youngmin lying on the floor, probably passed out from practicing for so long. Donghyun set all of the groceries on the floor and snuck up behind all three of them, making them all sit up in surprise. Donghyun chuckled and told them to get up. “Guys, Y/N and I bought some snacks for you to eat since you’ve all been training for so long.” As Donghyun told them this, all three of the boys stood up and spotted the bags of groceries and quickly picked them up from the ground and looked inside of the bags to see what kind of snacks you two bought.

“Choco pie, yes!!!” Woojin exclaims before quickly unwrapping the choco pie wrapper and taking a huge bite out of it, sighing at the taste. Youngmin opened the bag of potato chips and happily munched on them as Daehwi drank a can of soda. You and Donghyun both laughed at the three hungry and exhausted boys as they were enjoying their snacks after having such a long training session.

“These chips are really good, what flavor are they?” Youngmin asks, his mouth full of chips. Donghyun laughs at the elder. “They’re just normal potato chips, can’t you read the bag?” Youngmin looks at the front of the bed and nods, feeling like a complete idiot for not reading the front of the bag before opening it. “Oh my gosh, speaking of those potato chips, you should’ve seen Y/N trying to reach them on the top shelf. She looked so cute trying to reach them with her short height!”

You shoot Donghyun a glare, but before you know it, all four of the boys are laughing as Donghyun talked about you trying to reach the top shelf and your height. “She’s so small, I can literally carry her in my pocket!” “Oh my gosh look at her, she’s so mad right now, she looks like an angry little elf!”

Your face turns red at all of their playful remarks. “You guys are so mean to me!” You whine. Donghyun chuckles and pinches your cheeks. “You’re just so small, it’s adorable.” You blush as he calls you adorable, but glare at him again. Donghyun notices you glaring at him and softens. “You know I’m just teasing you. I love you, you know~” He holds your hands and swings them back and forth with his, trying to make you less angrier at him. Of course you love him too much so you give in easily. “Fine, but you have to repay me with kisses.”

Donghyun grins as you say this and nods his head. You wrap your arms around his neck and stand on your tip toes to try and kiss him, but since you’re so short, you could only reach his chin. You huff. “Why do you have to be so freaking tall!” You complain. Donghyun chuckles and wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you up, and finally places a sweet kiss on your lips, making you blush. “You’re so short and adorable.” There he goes with the teasing again. You stick your bottom lip out, pouting as he teases you once again. You knew that there is no end to the teasing and short height jokes. “You’re lucky I love you, you tall idiot.” Donghyun laughs and leans down to kiss your forehead.

“I love you too, shorty.”

i.

Percival stills his hand when Credence places his on top.

He looks up from his crossword. Across him, Credence is biting his lip, trying to contain a smile.

“Credence?” he asks, offering back a small smile, though his eyebrows are burrowed in concern.

“I just wanted you to know,” he starts. And then he lets loose a smile that reaches his eyes, beautiful and tender. Percival is swept, as how he usually is every time he is made the recipient of that smile.

Before Credence can continue, Percival brings Credence’s hand to his lips. “Sweetheart,” he presses against his knuckles.

ii.

“Go get him sugar,” Queenie tells Credence with a slight nudge. Beside her, Jacob grins and throws two thumbs up.

Credence’s legs feel shaky. He smooths over nonexistent wrinkles from his jacket, to keep him from wringing his hands. He exhales and meets Percival halfway.

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I think I figured out why I am so obsessed with Wondertrev.

Their innocence and how neither actually changed their morals when together.

Steve also knew she had to do this, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop her. He knew she had to do what she had to do and he had to do what he had to do.

My favorite scene is when Diana thinks she killed Ares, and Steve runs up to her and she’s asking why the war is still happening.

So he has to explain how mankind is kinda fucked up and break her heart in the process.

However, it isn’t that.

It’s how Chris Pine acted.

Two (or three?) times Chris had his character reach out to touch Diana’s face but not touch it. He had his hands form fists multiple times in trying to explain this, and he had a low voice when showed Steve didn’t know what to say or do. There was a raw emotion Steve had towards Diana.

I act, and these types of things are not in scripts. The emotion surrounding two characters does not say in a script because the script cannot force an actor the feel something.

The actor must.

Chris took this scene and made it so raw and so heartbreaking by the way he interacted with Gal. This was a truly remarkable scene.

I feel people aren’t giving Chris or Gal enough credit. Yes, they are talking about this scene, but they are not talking about what was involved in it. How it became remarkable and why it is.

You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt: Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist linked in bio


If she closes her eyes hard enough, and just at the right moments, Y/n can feel Harry in Dan.

It’s quite peculiar, how she finds Harry in almost anything. It’s something she finds so riveting yet so dangerous at the same time. He’s everywhere, he’s in every breath she takes and in every move she makes, and it’s something that brings her an overwhelming sense of comfort yet an overbearing sense of instability.

Dan—an individual full of insecurities and excitement—who varies oh, so differently from Harry, can feel like him if she really tries hard enough. His arms don’t hold her quite the same, and his lips aren’t as soft and flavorful, but if she squeezes her eyes shut, and she loses herself in the memories of Harry, it’s like he’s almost back again—only in the most minuscule of ways.

Which is why, now, in this moment in time, Y/n can barely keep her eyes open.

It’s the first time Y/n brought Dan to the house, letting him stop by to watch a film after his shift. It’s a little something he’s wanted to do for a while, and after many coffee dates and many pleads from Dan, she finally took the step of being completely alone with him.

Gabby decided to go to a friends house and insisted they take their time together. It started off wonderfully; a bottle of red wine, a box of chocolates, and a bag of popcorn while they watched Jaws.

It was all wonderful, until Dan decided to make the move.

Dan is on top of her, lips connecting to hers in a lustful motion. It isn’t that Y/n doesn’t want to be in this position, but more of her being hesitant to do so. She hasn’t kissed anybody since Harry, and although Dan is one of the nicest people she’s ever met, she can’t find it within herself to keep moving any more forward.

And everything about it feels wrong.

Between all the touching, all the kissing, all the feelings within her, she can’t stop thinking about Harry. She can’t stop thinking about how much she misses him and how much she wants him back. She’s still in love with him, so much so that doing this with someone else makes her feel dirty—makes her feel like she’s betraying him.

And it’s all too much, because no matter how hard she closes her eyes, no matter how hard she tries to feel him, he’s not there, and she can’t help but seem to think that he never will be—not anymore.

“No, no, stop.” She whimpers, shaking her head in an attempt to reject Dan’s restless lips.

He doesn’t stop, however, too engaged in the moment to really understand the words stuttering from her mouth. He continues kissing her, instead, moving down to her collarbones.

At this point, Y/n starts to hyperventilate. Between the sobs daring to escape her chest and the lack of air from her previous activities, everything is straining against her. She doesn’t fully understand how she was able to get this far without it being with Harry.

“Stop!”

Her arms push Dan off of her until she’s alone on the couch as he’s panting on the floor. She can’t breathe. Her chest is tightening and her cries are so harsh that her lungs are collapsing inside of her.

She reaches her hands up to the roots of her hair, pulling back on them as she tries to gather all the oxygen she can. At this point, her head feels light and her sight is completely blurred by the tears flowing out of them—ones that she doesn’t even try to stop.

“I’m s—so sor—ry.” She hiccups, her head falling to her hands.

Dan gulps as he tentatively stands from his spot on the floor, his hands up in front of him as if in a panic—trying desperately to figure out how to fix the mess being made in front of him.

He looks around the room, as if in search for something to guide him through this situation, but there’s nothing. All the room occupies is a broken woman, sobbing breathlessly on a couch in front of him, muttering incoherent phrases under her breath.

“Okay,” he huffs out, nodding his head to himself, “It’s okay, yeah? You’re okay?”

He occupies the empty spot next to her, hesitantly wrapping an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. In all honesty, Dan is complete shit at helping people during emotional breakdowns, and considering this one had happened so suddenly, he had absolutely no warning that he would be put in this position.

Y/n feels bad, she does, considering Dan doesn’t deserve the treatment she’s given him and surely doesn’t deserve what was once an innocent date to end up a complete disaster. But she can’t help it, and she can’t stop now, no matter how hard she tries.

“It’s Harry, isn’t it?”

His voice is nothing but a whisper, and the words that spoke out from his lips nearly brings every movement in Y/n’s body to a halt. She never told him that it was Harry who broke her heart, and to be honest, she doesn’t even find the strength within her to begin to question how he even knows of Harry—especially his relationship with her.

Of course, their relationship has been publicized for years, but Dan is a very closed-off type of person. He’s not much into music, either—another part of him that differs so drastically from Harry—and spends a majority of his time working or spending time outside rather than succumbing himself in social media.

He looks down at the rose ring wrapped around his pointer finger, twirling it around with the hand that was once wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders.

He knew the moment he saw Harry’s reaction that this ring very much belonged to him. He wasn’t quite sure why she sacrificed it so mindlessly—why it seemed to have no story behind it. But between everything Gabby’s told him and everything he’s gathered from her previous relationship, she wanted nothing more than to get rid of every reminder she had of him.

He doesn’t feel worthy enough for it, though. If Y/n and Harry don’t find their way back to each other, he feels she should at least give it to somebody that she loves, not somebody she needs to help her get over her heartbreak.

He slides it off his finger, placing it gently on the palm of his hand before closing his fingers into a fist.

“We can’t keep doing this, Y/n. Not if you can’t talk to me.” He mutters softly, “Not if you’re still in love with him, we’ll be getting nowhere.”

This makes her cry harder. She still doesn’t have the audacity to look up at him, no, how could she? After everything she’s done?

This is why she always ends up alone. No matter how in love she is, no matter how much effort she puts into a relationship, they always end up leaving her. It’s happened long before Harry, and she was so convinced he’d stay when he came around. She was so dead set on him being her forever, but the same thing happened again. He left, just like everyone else.

And now, Dan is leaving her, and although she can’t exactly blame him for doing so, it’s another wound to her heart—it’s another pain in her chest that only seems to increase with pain.

He sighs sadly at the sight in front of him, upset with himself that he’s probably a partial reason for her soul-shaking sobs and lack of air, but he has no other choice. If he stays with her, he’d be forcing her to love someone she doesn’t. He has to let her go if it means to possibly make amends with her happiness again.

He takes one of her shaking hands away from her face and bringing it towards his lap, spreading her fingers away from her palm so that he can set the ring softly against it.

She sobs at the sight, bringing her opposite hand to her mouth as she tries to quiet herself down.

“This was Harry’s, it always was. This belongs to you, Y/n, not me.”

She nods, trying her best to smile at him as a form of appreciation, but it fails miserably. He understands, though, that she cares, and doesn’t ask her any questions.

“I’ll let Gabby know to come home now, okay?”

He kisses the top of her head, the way he always does, before removing himself from the couch and toward the front door.

“Take care of yourself, Y/n. I mean it.”

And then, he’s gone, leaving Y/n alone in an empty house and her haunting thoughts. She feels the world is closing in on her, only giving her a restricted amount of air and a limited amount of light to see what’s in front of her.

She’s alone—she’s left by herself in a dark room that’s only being illuminated by the television light, where nobody can hear her, where nobody can touch her, where nobody can see her; in a place where she just can’t trust herself.

She’s left alone, as she’s always left, and she just can’t take it anymore.

Her emotions become so strong that her body collapses onto the floor, her head throbbing and throat burning from all the tears and cries. She can’t breathe, her lungs failing to take in oxygen and her chest is pounding.

It’s so bad that if Gabby doesn’t come home soon, she actually believes she’s going to die. She feels the tug on her heart and feels how hard it is for it to do its job properly—she practically feels it overworking itself.

“Oh, God.”

Gabby finds her on the floor, making her immediately drop her purse and run to her collapsed body. Y/n is a withering mess underneath her, completely drenched in sweat as violent sobs erupt from her body.

She’s quick to sit her up properly onto the floor before lifting her back onto the couch, running a comforting hand down the side of her neck as she begins to shush her down to a calm state. However, her attempt falters when Y/n shakes her head to remove Gabby’s touch from her neck.

“I can’t—I can’t—“

She tries to find words to explain what’s happening to her right now. Between the pain in her body and the feeling in her head, her brain is scrambling with so many fearful thoughts that the only thing she can truly comprehend is being saved from this horrifying feeling.

“Hospital.”

Gabby is taken aback when she says it, completely astonished by just how serious this all is. She realizes this isn’t a situation that she can fix on her own, and it makes her feel like such a bad friend that she can’t give her what she needs.

Tears fall from her eyes in panic, well aware that her friend is undergoing something far worse than a mental breakdown, but also knows that the hospital won’t be able to help her.

Only Harry can.

“Let me call for help, okay?“ She asks softly. “I’m gonna send help.”

When Harry sees Gabby’s contact light up his phone, something inside of him instantly fills with worry. He knows, without a doubt, that Gabby hates him more than anybody ever since what happened. And knowing her so well, she would never reach out to him, especially when her negative feelings toward him were so strong, unless it’s serious.

“Gabby?”

“You have to do something, Harry.” She cries through the phone, peaking over her shoulder to look over Y/n from her location in the kitchen.

She’s still a mess, holding her hand over her heart as if it were going to mend the pain. Her head is thrown over the back of the couch, her other hand running over her face continuously. Her sobs haven’t settled, only seeming to increase with panic over the unfamiliar reaction occurring over her body.

“She thinks you don’t want her and—Harry she thinks she’s dying. Her heart is so broken. She keeps saying her heart is going to fail her and I don’t—I don’t know what to do. I don’t think there’s anything I can do. She—she was trying so hard. Harry, please, you have to—you have to—“

Harry leans on his elbows over the kitchen counter, huffing out a shaky breath when he hears both Gabby and Y/n’s cries through the phone. He rubs his hand over his face, doing anything to prevent the tears nearly pooling out from his eyes.

He’d be lying if he said that guilt isn’t eating him alive in this moment. And it’s not that he hasn’t felt any remorse or any guilt since he’d broken Y/n’s heart, but he’s now fully aware that he has to look at the damage he’s done. He’ll have to witness all the pain, all the heartbreak he’s put her through, and nothing makes him feel worse.

“I’ll do anything.” He whimpers. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I promise, I won’t keep doing this to her, you have to believe me. Just—“ he lets out a broken breath, reaching his hand up to rub his eyes to prevent any tears from escaping, “just tell me what to do.”

Gabby wipes the tears from her cheeks, yet again peering over to watch over Y/n on the couch. To her dismay, there is absolutely no improvement.

“Come here, pick her up, and bring her home. Just talk to her, please. Nothing makes her feel worse than believing you don’t want her anymore. Hell, even if you don’t—I don’t know with you anymore—just give her something. You’re the only one that can fix this.”

He sighs, nodding his head before making his way out of his house without much of a response to her. He’s only concerned for Y/n, and is so focused on getting to her so that he can prove to her that he’s changed—that he’s not the same Harry he was and is going to be there for her for as long as his life lasts, even if she doesn’t allow it.

But it’s upon arrival he realizes how much more serious this is than he thought. She’s completely breaking down, every inch of her shaking and fear written on her face. She’s a complete and utter mess, a completely wrecked version of such a beautiful, unbroken woman who had so much love in her heart and surrounded by so much love in the air.

And even though Harry knows she believes she’s going to die, apart of him believes she’s already dead. The life inside of her has burned out and is now just a product of what once was. The Y/n he always known is long gone—so far gone he almost doesn’t believe it’s her.

He looks at her with the most distraught and sympathetic look Gabby has ever seen. She has never seen so much guilt in somebody before that—no matter how much she hates him—she can’t help but feel sorry for him, too.

“Baby, hey. Hey now, it’s alright.” He whispers, kneeling in front of Y/n’s shaking figure and tentatively reaching for her hair so that he can attempt to calm her down. “I’m here now, I’m right here.”

A pitiful sound leaves her lips when she looks up at him; something between a whine, a sob, and a groan. It’s messy from her throat being raw from all the screaming and cries, and it leaves an indescribable pain that only makes her cries stronger.

She can’t even think properly, everything in her body overworking itself. It’s something she’s never experienced before, and all the fears of it being permanent rush through her veins—leaving her with an overwhelming amount of anxiety.

“She’s having a panic attack.” Harry mumbles to Gabby, making sure to rub gently over the back of Y/n’s neck. Although panic attacks weren’t common for her, whenever she was overwhelmed and stressed, this gesture always seemed calmed her down.

“I don’t know what to do. I can’t drive with her like this I—Gabby, how do I focus with her like this?” He cries, the situation in front of him making his body turn to shambles, “Especially when it’s my fault? How do I—do I keep her here until she’s calm? I don’t—I don’t know—”

Gabby shakes her head, reaching her hand over to graze his tense shoulder. She squeezes the muscle softly, almost as a sort of reassurance.

“She needs home, Harry—” she whispers, “she needs you.

He nods, choking back sobs as he brushes the hair out of Y/n’s face. The skin of her face is red and completely soaked, but this is the first time he’s seen her since the morning in the grocery store, and she’s never looked so beautiful.

“I’m going to take you home with me, Y/n. But I need you to breathe for me, can you do that?” He asks, holding her face delicately between his hands, “Breathe with me.”

Y/n sucks in a deep breath when Harry inhales deeply, attempting to rid all the anxiety and pain settling inside of her. Her inhale is broken between hiccups and cries, but as she keeps eye contact with him as she tries to calm down, a little part of her feels revived.

“It hurts.” She whimpers between sobs, referring to the pain in her chest and the throbbing in her head that just can’t seem to heal.

She watches as Harry’s face scrunches with an agonizing cry, and she knows he’s aware of exactly what she’s talking about. She’s been brokenhearted for so long, she doesn’t even think he’s the least bit shocked when she tells him her heart is hurting.

“I know, baby. I know.” He whispers as he kisses her forehead gently. “Let’s get you home, yeah? Make you feel better?”

And as much as she wants to hate him, or yell at him for everything he’s done to her and make him understand just how much of her life he’s ruined, she genuinely feels like her body is going to collapse at any given moment. She needs him, even if it’s just for right now, she has to just focus on everything happening in the now. Harry’s come back to her and she’s about to go back home.

Because if she doesn’t think about the present moment—Harry holding her, Harry kissing her, Harry about to take the both of them back to their house—she’ll never find a way to fix herself. She’ll be stuck in this anxiety and pain for far too long—so long that it could actually kill her.

So she closes her eyes, only focusing on his touch and his breath fanning over her wet face. She forgets the t-shirt, she forgets all the times he’s ignored her after declaring them to take a break, and she forgets about Jessica. At least for right now, she can focus on all that tomorrow.

She nods, and it’s then Harry notices how much more calm she is. Although she’s still crying and still incapable of speaking much from the aching in her throat, she’s breathing properly again and her once undying sobs have turned into soft whimpers.

He leans in so that he can properly wrap his arms around her, hooking one hand on her back and the other under her knees. There’s no way in hell she’s capable of walking—not like this, and in all honesty, he would much rather hold her now than leave her side for another second.

It’s when Y/n is being held so close to him again that the aching in her chest seems to almost vanish completely. And although there is still a weight on top of her lungs, and still a slight uncomfortableness in her heart, she’s finally able to breathe again.

“I’m gonna make this all better, okay? I promise you, gonna fix you.” He mumbles with his lips against her hairline, making sure to keep rubbing the back of her neck softly.

It’s a promise he intends on keeping—a promise he never plans on breaking again. He could never live with himself if he were to keep putting her through all of this pain. She’s the most undeserving person—he knows that—and he knows she’s too pure to go through all that she’s been through the past couple of months.

The car ride is completely silent, only Y/n’s cries and small sniffles filling the empty space. Although she still isn’t completely calm, she’s improved so much since he first came to pick her up and it is able to keep his mind at ease. At least while he drives.

And he doesn’t miss her hand sneaking over the console to intertwine her fingers with his. He doesn’t expect it but he also doesn’t mind it. If anything, it makes him feel better just as much as it does her.

When they pull up to the driveway of their once shared house, every bit of composure she’s withheld in her body is breaking down by the second. Her strength is wearing thin, and knowing she’ll be reuniting in the house where Y/n and Harry once had everything makes her more afraid than ever.

Harry notices her sudden shift in mood and doesn’t hesitate to unbuckle himself from his seat and walk around the car to where her exhausted figure is sobbing, slumped against the passenger seat. He sighs meekly before unbuckling her, as well, and lifting her against him the way he had before.

“Hey there, s’alright, I’m here. We’ll work this out, but you need to sleep first, yeah? Looking very pale and I know you well enough to see you’ve been lacking sleep.”

Although they both know Y/n isn’t going to respond, she wants to continue listening to him speak. It’s something she hasn’t heard in so long, and she wouldn’t even care if he was talking about the goddamn weather, she just wants to hear him again.

He keeps talking, too, because he notices the effects of his voice on her anxiety and how the muscles in her body relax under his words. He’ll stop at nothing to make sure she’s okay again, even if it means having a one-sided conversation.

“You know how you are, too—grumpy and sensitive when you’re tired. Almost take my head off if you don’t get more than seven hours. Remember that one time at my mum’s Christmas dinner party? Barely slept the night before from wrapping so many gifts that you genuinely got upset with me for not knowing your favorite alcoholic beverage.” He chuckles softly. “Funny lil thing.“

Through the nonstop crying and the frown that hasn’t left Y/n’s lips in what feels like an eternity, the first smile stretches from her lips. It’s the smallest closed mouth smile he’s ever seen, but it’s there, and it’s the most genuine feeling of happiness she’s had in so long.

When Harry unlocks the door, he wastes no time making his way over to their couch. He knows very well that she wouldn’t want to sleep on their bed, considering she’s well aware of what he did with Jessica on that bed and he wants no reason to upset her any further.

He sets her down in front of the couch, petting the top of her head softly before gathering a blanket and a pillow for her to sleep on.

He sets it up like a bed, almost, before turning to leave so that she can have her privacy. He doesn’t think she’d want to sleep with him, so he decides to sleep in the guest bedroom since he knows she’d always pick the living room couch over that room.

But before he gets too far, Y/n weakly captures his fingers in hers, pulling him back towards her.

His head snaps down to her finger, noticing the rose ring being worn beautifully on her middle finger. He almost chokes when he sees it on her, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in half confusion and half in awe.

“Please,” she whimpers, “stay.”

He snaps out of his trance at her words, slowly nodding his head as a small “of course” falls from his lips.

He lays comfortably on the couch, looking up at her when he finds a position where she can lay beside him.

“If you want you can take the—alright” he huffs.

His eyes narrow as he watches her lay on top of him—fully on top of him; her cheek nesting right where his shoulder meets his neck as her arms slither around his sides until her hands meet under his back. Her legs tangle perfectly in between his, and in any other circumstance, this probably wouldn’t have been an ideal sleeping position for the either of them. But Y/n is exhausted, both physically and mentally, and she feels this is the only position she can sleep.

Harry doesn’t mind, and easily ignores the subtle uncomfortableness in his back as he wraps his arms securely around her frame.

Although Y/n is already fast asleep on top of it, he’s unsure how he can close his eyes for longer than a blink. This could be the last chance he has to be with her in this way. He’s unsure what tomorrow holds for the both of them and their relationship—it could end entirely or create an entirely new beginning.

With the possibilities almost endless against their favor, he doesn’t want to miss a second of what could be the last of her in his life. So, he embraces the feeling of her tight hold, the little puddle of drool on the shoulder of his t-shirt, and the tickle on his chin from her loose strands of hair, because this could be the last time he feels all of that.

But he also can’t help but feel that small bit of hope still latching onto him. That somewhere—deep down—he knows they belong to each other for the rest of their lives. And that, maybe, if the universe decides that their relationship should end tomorrow, he knows destiny will find a way for the both of them again.

So, he holds her a little tighter, breathes her in a little harsher, and soaks up all the extra warmth in her body, and prays that everything will be okay.

ACOWAR alternative ending HC

So I have this headcanon for an alternative ending to ACOWAR. Proceed with caution due to high levels of angst. might make into a fic idk

Just imagine:

  • Mor on the battlefield and suddenly feeling something shift with her magic. Her hearing Feyre’s screams and putting the two together
  • Mor winnowing straight to Feyre’s side and dropping to her knees at the sight of Rhys, looking so small without his otherworldliness lying collapsed on the ground
  • Mor looking to Az for strength while he holds a bleeding Cassian
  • The High Lords dropping their life essence into Rhys and Mor holding her breath her nails digging into her hands, drawing blood without noticing
  • A thick heavy silence settling over the room, as Rhys doesn’t move.
  • Nothing happens
  • Rhys is dead
  • Feyre’s laughter breaking the silence and everyone looking to her with confusion. Feyre whipping her head to look at the cauldron whispering Amren and Mor running over, half diving in to the cauldron desperate to find her friend. 
  • But the Cauldron is empty
  • Mor looking to Az for an explanation to what is going on. Az’s shadows poking and prodding around them trying to feel what is wrong with Feyre
  • Az hurling himself at Helion, spell cleaver, his sword held to Helllion’s throat demanding he break whatever spell that is causing Feyre to laugh and act insane
  • Helion trying to calmly explain that Feyre has experienced so much pain and loss, her mind is protecting her, letting her believe that Rhys is still alive, the snapped mating bond forming a weak glamour in her mind, creating a world where both Amren and her mate are still part of it
  • Mor screaming at the high lords “why didn’t it work”
  • Az falling to his knees, his sword dropping to the ground, tears silently falling
  • Cassian, a silent tear rolling down his face as he reaches a hand out to Az, who had forgotten about Cassian’s need for a healer, putting his harm over his shoulder and slowly walking him out
  • a weak Mor, leading Feyre back to their tent, every time Feyre laughs or says his name it feels like knives stabbing Mor in the chest
  • Going back to Valaris. Az, Mor and Cassian burying Rhys next to his family while Feyre remains in the city
  • Nesta shouts and yells at Feyre trying to get her to see its not real
  • Seeing Feyre so lost in her own world is too much for Nesta, so Cassian agrees to move out with her, but secretly its also because everytime Feyre says Rhys’ name like her mate is in the room Cass has to suddenly leave the house and breaks down crying
  • Az and Mor visit Cassian as much as possible
  • Elain tries to care for Feyre like Feyre did for her when they were younger.
  • Feyre keeps going flying, Az always keeps watch when she does to ensure she doesn’t fall and hurt herself, lost in her glamour world, and sometimes joins her for the distraction
  • Mor has taken up a lot of Rhys’ duties and is essentially the acting-High-Lady whilst Feyre is lost to them
  • Mor is the only one that never loses patience with Feyre, and is always there for her with a sad smile
Dating Harry Would Include - 45

Scrabble:

- Him coming behind you to see what you are doing, kissing your shoulder
- Sighing in your neck that he’s bored and if you want to come play Scrabble with him
- His huge smile when you accept, taking your hand to lead you to the living room
- Finding the board game and everything else ready, waiting for you on the coffee table
- Helping you to sit on ground before going to the kitchen and bringing for both of you tea and snacks
- Offering you your mug fulls of your favorite tea  "You won’t listen to me but be careful it’s quite hot!“
- His "I told you!” face when you take a sip of the hot beverage and hiss between your teeth because of your burnt tongue
- Proposing to feed you when you ask him to give  you a bite of his snack
- Moving his hand away of your mouth each time you try to bite into his piece of apple
- Keep moving his hand until you’re close enough of him to kiss your cheek
- Teasing you in keeping the bag of letters out of your reach
- Encouraging you in laughing “ Come on little thing, I’m sure you can do it! ”
- His loud laugh when you start to tickling him as payback for his joke
- Him trying to take a look at your letters when he thinks you won’t notice
- Pushing his face away when he bend toward you to watch your words
- Trying to distract you to take another letter because he can’t write nothing with the ones he has
- Smacking  gently your ass when he comes back into the room and find you bending over the table to look at his letters
- His ironic concerned face when you complain “Poor little you! Wants me to kiss it better?”
- Feeling him playing with your hair while waiting for you to place your letters on the board game
- Distracting you in blowing slowly on your ear when you place your word
- Waiting to his turn to play to place sweet messages for you
- Answering to his sweet messages using the same way
- Catching your ankle in his hand when you try to distract him in pushing on his leg with your foot
- Tickling you while looking at you with a half smile when you look at the words with concentration
- Letting you win on purpose because he loves to see you happy for little things
- Acting innocent when you ask him if he let you won … 

Reconciled

Originally posted by yoonseok

Paring; Min Yoongi x Reader

✎ Words; 3.4k

✎ Genre; Slight angst, smut, some fluff (Mostly smut) 

Warnings; Cussing, face riding, light bondage, Min Yoongi being called ‘Kitten’ 

✎ Summary; Despite Yoongi promising to be home early on your anniversary, he completely forgets. The two of you end up having an argument and you offer him a way to make it up to you. 

or

You and Yoongi have makeup sex, plot twist, he’s the sub (well kinda a sub, for a little anyway)

Request from: @taehyungieshands

A/N: I’m sorry it took so long.

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What It Feels Like

Summary:  Reader hasn’t been kissed in awhile.  Dean reminds her what it feels like.

Characters:  Dean x Reader

Word Count: 845

Warnings: smut, fluff, smuffy, smuffy, smuff

A/N:  I just needed a little quality Dean time.  And this may also be for @charliebradbury1104 who is currently a little mad at me.  Forgive me Liz?

It’s unbeta’d so sorry for any mistakes.  Gif is from Google Search, credit goes to the owner.

Little hairs prick the skin of your fingers as they curl around the back of his neck.  It’s damp with sweat and thicker than you imagined it would be. 

He’s pulling his upper body against your grip, up on his elbows, while his hips meet yours and he rocks into you again.  The pace unbearably slow.

Dark lashes rest on his cheeks and his mouth is making perfect little oh, ah shapes.  When you lift and tilt your hips to match him, his lashes flip up to meet his eyebrows and peridot orbs look down at you with a glint.

“In a rush, sweetheart?” he asks, plunging especially deep this time.

Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you bite down to keep from moaning.  He growls, dipping his head and capturing it with his mouth. He sucks your lip in between his teeth, “Don’t tease me with that lip, princess,” he says, teeth still tugging before releasing you and pecking little kisses.  “Now that I’ve got you here I’m gonna take my time,” he smirks.

He rolls his hips and your whole body shudders as you arch into him.  Your mind races as you think about how you got here.

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Positioning Is Everything

I play an Eladrin Rogue named Phukar in our Keep on Shadowfell campaign. All of us are fairly new players, including the DM. We’ve got Sylvia (Elven Warlock), Elf (Elven Warden), Nyx (DM’s Gnome Sorcerer and Phukar’s adopted daughter), and Swaggitha (DM’s Shifter Shaman). We’ve finally reached the final boss, Kalarel, and have to stop him from opening the rift. Unfortunately, he’s got ridiculously high AC.

DM: Heads up, if you guys wanna do something to try to like, remove robes and stuff like that, that can lower his AC.

Phukar (OOC): … Can I pants Kalarel?

DM: (Over everyone’s laughter) Yes! That is precisely what I’m saying! Pants Kalarel, show his dick to the world!

[A few moments later]

DM: (As everyone decides what they’re wanting to do) Nyx is going to use Mage Hand to try to pants Kalarel.

Sylvia (OOC): She technically had advantage!

DM: Yes, she does!

Elf (OOC): He’s marked, by the way!

DM: (Rolls and counts up) That’s a 17, plus her strength… (DM grins) So basically, she takes Mage Hand and just kind of swipes and pantses Kalarel.

Phukar (OOC): (As everyone starts to laugh) So how big is it?

DM: Rolling for dick size! (Rolls a d8) It’s about 6 inches.

Phukar (OOC): Alright, so pretty average.

Sylvia (OOC): I love that you rolled a d8 for that!

DM: Well, yeah, because averages - here, let’s roll- (Rolls a d20) 19! It’s taller than he is! You don’t know HOW it was contained in there. It was wrapped up in a small little corner.

Phukar (OOC): (As everyone dies of laughter once more) Let’s go with the 6!

[A few more moments later]

DM: Humans - killed. Portal - opened. Dick - OUT!

Phukar (OOC): I am forcibly removed from the Keep on Shadowfell.

[There’s a short moment while I’m thinking]

Phukar: So I waltz right up to this guy and what I’m gonna do is Setup Strike. (Fails my roll) Okay, dang it. Well, for my minor action, I’m gonna take my dagger and cut his pants in half. (Rolls) Uh… 19?

DM: (Rolls) The pants are not that strong! You’re just like, ‘I’ve learned to cut clothes off very quickly before. I’ve done this many times!’

Phukar: Oh, more than you’d guess.

DM: (Starts to go to the next person)

Phukar (OOC): Wait! I just want to point out that to properly cut those pants, he probably had to get on his knees. Meaning, Phukar is on his knees in front of Kalarel. (Everyone collectively dies of laughter) He’s on his knees in front of Kalarel. And, can I use the free action for speaking?

DM: Yeah?

Phukar: I look up and say “Nice one, Arlen” to his face.

DM: FUCK. Okay, it’s his turn now. He looks down at you-

Sylvia (OOC): He looks past his dick at Phukar.

DM: I mean… It’s not hard, so he’s not- (Everyone collectively dies) Okay! He kicks off what’s left of his pants and then um… Fucker, he goes to hit you… (Rolls low) And. So, basically, you’re down there, and you just lift up your new cloak and block the attack like… duh duh duh (waving arms above head like holding a cloak).

Phukar (OOC): And now the cloak is just- all you see if a bent form, a cloak that hides everything, and Kalarel!

Sylvia (OOC): I think EVERYONE’S wondering what Phukar’s doing under there!

Phukar (OOC): Can Phukar poke it?

DM: …. SURE. I’LL ALLOW IT. You hear Nyx shout “Get some, Dad!”

Elf: With great accuracy and precision, I take my hand and place my palm directly on my forehead, with an audible sound, clear to everybody in the room.

DM: He’s going to use an action surge because his dick was just touched, like, what the fuck!”

Elf: Wait! If he attacks Phukar, then I use my Immediate Interrupt! (Rolls) That’s a Nat 20! I look angrily at him. “Wait! You don’t hit your sex partner without consent!”

[This causes everyone to die laughing for a solid minute. This is a moment to go down in history. And it’s not over yet.]

Phukar (OOC): (As the DM accidently knocks Kalarel’s figurine over) I SUCKED HIM INTO SUBMISSION.

DM: STOP IT! You’re breaking your DM!

[Cue another pause for a full minute of laughter and then a few rounds of initiative. Phukar is still kneeling in front of Kalarel]

DM: Fucker, it’s your turn.

Phukar: So. I kind of look back up at him, flicking back my cloak, and say “You know, I think I would like you in a better position” - I’m gonna use Positioning Strike.

DM: NO!

Phukar: I’m going to use Positioning Strike - but I’m gonna hit his… Y’know… with it. I’m going to stab at it while pushing him back.

DM: OH MY GOD.

Phukar (OOC): I got… Let’s see… 12, plus 11, so 23 against his will.

DM: That hits.

Phukar: Alright! I hit for 20 and push him over the table so he slams against the wall. And uh… Well, originally he was gonna go up there and suck it, but now it’s bloody and uh… He’s not really into that.



And that is how to break your DM during the final boss encounter.

lunaaltare  asked:

Imagine Steve, after a rough battle, being stuck in the hospital. He's high off whatever the doctors gave him and loopy as hell. Whenever Sam visits, Steve hopelessly tries to flirt with him and the moment Sam tells him they're married already, Steve's basically sobbing.

“Did it hurt?” Steve slurs.

“What? You’re the one that fell off a building and then got shot.”

“When you fell from heaven.”

Sam starts laughing, “Oh my god.”

“‘M serious!” Steve says, trying to sit up a little before Sam pushes him back down gently with a hand on on his chest. “You look like an angel. You even have a halo!”

“Steve I think that’s just the painkillers talking.”

“Nuh-uh. I see it. Right there.” Steve reaches up and accidentally pokes Sam in the eye. “Oh no! Oh no! I hurt you. Come here. Let me kiss it and make it better.”

“You’re just trying to get a kiss out of me.”

“Well can you blame me? You’re so cute. Really cute, you are. An angel sent down from heaven just to keep me company.”

“You’re awful,” Sam tells him, still laughing.

“Who’s the lucky guy that gets to kiss on you? I wish it were me. How can it be me? Tell me, Sam. What do I gotta do to get a guy like you?”

“Well you’re in luck,” Sam says, reaching out to take Steve’s hand. He picks up Steve’s left hand and shows it to him. “See that wedding band?” Then he holds up his left hand too.

“Crap,” Steve says, making a really distressed face. “I’m married? Oh no. My husband is going to kill me for flirting with you.”

“Man, what did they give you? Holy shit. You’re married to me, asshole. You’re my husband.”

Steve’s eyes get so big that Sam’s actually afraid they might just fall out of his head. “We’re married!?”

“Yes, Steve. We’re married.”

“It’s me?! You’re my husband?! I get to kiss on you! I have an angel for a husband!” Steve’s body starts to practically melt back into the hospital bed. He keeps a tight hold on Sam’s hand and closes his eyes. “How did I pull that one off?”

Sam brings their joined hands up to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to Steve’s knuckles. “I have no idea.”

Make a Move

Muse: Min Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Fluffy cringey fluff and a pinch of angst.
Word: 3.5k
Type: A friends with benefits AU ─In which one of you falls in love with the other and confesses without saying the three little words. + College AU
Note: A companion piece to Why People Fall in Love because I’m a sucker for FWB!AU’s
Warning: Implied smut.

Part: III & III (completed)

img cr.

+ You’re closest to Hoseok in terms of friendship and flirtationship as per everyone’s painfully blatant knowledge ─ very much like the ‘he likes her she likes him and everybody knows but them trope’ with the exception you’re aware of your feelings for that boy. But what they don’t know is the existential violet bruises you keep fairly hidden underneath your complementary jackets and skinny jeans ─always all covered up head to toe, you might give the Sisters a run for their money. 

The bruises made by Hoseok’s best friend, Min Yoongi.

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Something Just Like This

Summary: AU. This is the story of an ordinary couple with an extraordinary love.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,652 (without lyrics)

Warnings: language, fluff, sarcasm, pregnancy, mentions of bullying, illness, and death, song fic style

A/N: This is my oneshot submission for the poetic noble land mermaid @whothehellisbella and her Bella’s Cool Time Summer Jamz Mix Writing Challenge. My song prompt was Something Just Like This - The Chainsmokers, Coldplay. I hope you approve and enjoy!

Originally posted by duckybarness

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So there’s this long list of prompts, and I love all of them, so I’m going to do a bunch of them completely unprompted.

Number One: “The skirt is supposed to be this short.”


“I can’t believe this is your dirty secret.”

Boyd raised his eyebrows, adjusting his belt. “What did you think it was?”

“I don’t know, scrapbooking? Ballroom dance? Secret piccolo prodigy?” Stiles tried to shimmy the massive wedgie out of his buttcrack, but it just slipped in further. God damn it. He was wearing way too many layers to go after it, at least two of them chainmail.

“Piccolo?” Boyd’s tone itself wasn’t threatening, but picking up a broadsword and sheathing it on his belt certainly was. It was much bigger than Stiles’ sword, that was for sure.

“Come on, dude. Do you really not see the irony of a literal werewolf LARPing? And not as a werewolf? You wouldn’t even need prosthetics!”

“It’s not roleplaying if you’re just being yourself.”

“Okay, but why roleplay when you’re already a badass? Let’s face it, if anyone here should be roleplaying, it’s the pack human who doesn’t have superpowers.”

“They aren’t superpowers!” Derek’s usual reflex response came from behind the curtain, and then he added, “Are you sure you didn’t give me Kira’s outfit?”

Boyd rolled his eyes like they were the ones being unreasonable here. “Yes, I’m still sure. Come out.”

Stiles couldn’t actually hear it, but it was like a sixth sense by now; he knew Derek sighed before yanking back the crookedly hanging sheet that served as a dressing room in a corner of their massive canvas pack tent.

“So, the skirt is supposed to be this short.”

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