You tucked yourself tighter in your jacket and exhaled when you saw his brownish hair shine beneath the street lamp by the narrow steps where your house were.
“What is so important that can’t wait til morning.” You made it clear to frown and because of it, Kihyun felt a sting in his heart. The cold night air certainly didn’t help much.
“Be honest with me, what’s your relationship with Minhyuk.” His voice was ambigous although the intentions were clear. He made the conversation into an interogation therefore your red lights lit up in your head. But your hasty answers didn’t bring the warmth Kihyun was seeking.
Request: Can you do one where the reader and Jim are dating secretly, because if the federation found out Jim was dating a crew member he could get removed as Captain, but then you find out you’re pregnant. “What the hell do we do now Jim?”
Summary: Mickey comes home completely drunk and awakens Ian from his sleep.
Word Count: 770
Notes: I wasn’t able to get a lot of writing in today, so sorry! But here’s this request :)
Ian knew that Mickey was working late tonight and after a long day at work himself, he needed sleep. When he laid his head down on the pillow of his and Mickey’s shared bed, he almost instantly fell asleep– which was well needed.
For about an hour, Ian was out cold. Then he jolted awake as the door slammed and the words, “Firecrotch! Oh, Firecrotch!” came from the front of their apartment building. It was Mickey obviously, and Ian knew he had to be completely hammered without even seeing him— he heard it in his voice.
Ian groaned in annoyance and tried to go back to sleep. He figured that if Mickey found him passed out in their bedroom he would calm down a little and try to get some sleep himself.
Unfortunately, Ian’s wishful plan did not go accordingly. Mickey stumbled into the bedroom, accidentally knocking down everything in sight as he tried to hold onto it as a source of balance. When he saw Ian with his eyes shut, he hurled himself on to the bed. “Firecrotch!” Mickey repeated. “Baby, wake up,” he pushed.
“Got to sleep, Mick,” Ian shoved his face into his pillow. Normally he could handle a drunken Mickey, but he was desperately exhausted.
Mickey moaned. “No. I need to talk to you about something really fucking important.” His voice was hazy, but insistent.
Ian huffed. “It can wait til the morning. I need some fucking sleep—”
“No, Ian. Please listen to me,” Mickey pleaded.
Ian was fully aware that whatever his boyfriend had to speak to him about was probably bullshit. He shook his head and pulled the covers up past his face.
Mickey moaned in the most strangest way. “I’m fucking tellin’ you. If you wanna sleep while I talk, so be it,” he said. Ian raised a hand from under the cover and chucked the finger at Mickey.
Mickey then proceeded to lay down next to Ian. Though he couldn’t see the redhead because he was so far under the blankets, Mickey turned his body to face him. “So today at the Alibi, I heard some asswipe talking bad about faggots. I was already a little buzzed and decided to confront him. Well this dickwad is new to town and doesn’t know who the fuck I am.”
Ian nervously shifted under the blanks as he listened to Mickey speak. He was highly annoyed the Mickey had awoken him from his slumber, but he was also a little anxious as Mickey went on because hates the thought of Mickey getting himself into trouble.
“So,” Mickey said intently. “So, I showed him who the fuck I am. It was only one punch, but this asshole pulled his gun on me—” Ian suddenly jolts out from under the covers to see Mickey’s face. “And you know what happened then? Everyone in the bar pulled their guns on him so he backed down. I thought it was hysterical. I took my pocket knife and put it to his throat and said, ‘No fucking fag shamin’ in this bar, bitch. My boyfriend and I could fucking murder you. And then after that Kev came up with his little bitch gun and he said, ‘and even though he don’t need us, he’s got us,’ while everyone agreed. You’d have been proud.”
Ian did feel a pang of warmth at the thought of so many people sticking up for them, but he was angry at Mickey for causing a commotion. “Why the fuck would you try to go after the new guy in town? People talk about us all the time, Mick!”
“It’s our fucking bar– we have fucking regulars, it’s their bar— not some new fucks,” Mickey protested. “And I don’t fucking like it when people talk about us. I love you toooooo much to hear people talk shit,” he said and started kissing all around Ian’s face.
Ian wanted to call him a fucking idiot, but as he thought more about it, he realized it was kind of sweet. “Just don’t do it again unless it’s really fucking necessary. But thank you for trying to stick up for us, I love you. Now go to sleep,” Ian insisted. He kissed him and then wrapped his arms around Mickey.
Mickey nodded proudly. “I’m a fucking life saver,” he oddly praised himself. When Ian let out another annoyed groan, he shut up. Mickey went under the covers and curled into Ian’s side. “Love you, Ian. Good night.” Ian’s frustration had faded after hearing Mickey’s sincerity. They both fell asleep in each other’s arms with big grins on their faces.
It hadn’t been long since darkness descended over their small country home. To Grace, the space between every hurried breath felt like an eternity. Her prized watch ticks methodically on the bedside table. Waiting. Like her. It was always a source of comfort, a piece of her father. Now it felt like a witness to her trials. No, not a witness. A bystander.
The lacquered floorboards beneath her are kept scratch free by the cover of her bed. But that doesn’t stop them from digging into her hips and bony wrists.
A creak reverberates from the floorboards as she shifts to one side. Her heart seizes, her breath catches. But she doesn’t come to snatch her from her place of safety. Grace isn’t foolish, she doesn’t dare move again. Even when her left leg goes numb beneath her. Even when her shoulder is strained painfully from the cramped posture.
Grace desperately wants to move though. To look around the room, to stop that maddening floor from digging into her side. But she can’t. She has to wait til morning. When the wrongs will be righted. When her mother will be herself again.
Dawn is a long ways away.
The thing using her mother’s skin remains tucked into the dark corner just behind Grace. Ever patient, ever still. Aside from the slow grin spreading across it’s face.
Gunshots burst forth in rapid succession, exploding with overlapping precision and deafening roars through the steady onslaught of rain that beat down on them. But it was the sound that followed that made Ignis’ heart clench.
Prompto’s bloodcurdling scream stole his very breath as it echoed across the marsh, setting the sodden hair at the back of Ignis’ neck to rise. Cold sweat trickled between his shoulder blades, just barely noticed in the relentless downpour. Beside him, with teeth bared and dripping, godlike build well past the edge, Gladio leaped forward at the sound.
To Ignis’ credit, he managed to finish the job before the sudden distraction made any more trouble in an already trying day. The gigantoad they’d been battling gave a final, rumbling groan, limping instead of hopping as it teetered around. Finally, it fell with a spatter of unpleasant warmth against Ignis’ cheek as he withdrew his blades from its sagging throat. Disgusting creature that it was. He dragged his already stained sleeve across his face as he spun quickly around.
Across the muddy field, Prompto was kneeling, head bent as though in desperate prayer. Gladio was upon him in an instant, massive blade recommitted to the twinkling blue ether with a cursory swat of his hand. His expression was as grim as Ignis could ever recall having seen on the man’s scarred and battle-hardened visage.
Ignis could barely think, couldn’t bring himself to even speak for the moment as he tread closer through the squelching mud beneath his feet. Beside the others, the second gigantoad lay dead, a veritable spray of bullet wounds centered between its grotesquely bulging eyes. He tore his gaze from it at last, schooling his expression to at least resemble detached calculation, ready to assist, as he finally looked down between Prompto’s bent frame and Gladio’s imposing presence. What he saw, however, soon dismantled all efforts to appear anything but horrified.
There in Prompto’s lap, cradled lovingly between his dirtied hands, lay a small, green frog. Except…
‘Twas the night
before Christmas, at least in LA— For Dan, Phil,
Jack, and Pewds, ‘twas in fact Christmas Day. But for Mark, the
clock chimed out eleven at night, And he scritched
Chica’s ears as he reached for the light.
All his friends and
his loved ones were likely asleep, But Mark texted
“goodnight” before counting his sheep. His eyelids grew
heavy, mind drifting toward dreams, When the silence
was shattered by thudding and screams.
“Oh, godDAMMIT!” A
voice echoed out of the smog; Mark jumped out of
bed and tripped over his dog. He recovered and
made for the window with poise, Which vanished when
he spied the source of the noise:
‘Twas Arin, decked
out in a red coat and hat, With a sleigh full
of gifts and an elf-costumed cat. And pulling the sled
as it hurled through the sky Were the Game
Grumps and Holly—turns out, they can fly!
They were dressed
up as deer, with bright antlers and hooves, And cute onesies to
keep them all snug on the roofs. Their noses were
painted; t’were tails on their butts, As they flew past
the window (and Mark’s frantic “WHAT”s).
“Now, Suzy; now, Barry;
now, Ross, Dan, and Brian! On, Vernon; on,
Holly; on, Jack, Matt, and Ryan! To the top of the house,
without hitting more walls! And don’t challenge
me, Ross; you don’t have the rein-balls!”
As Arin called out,
the Grumps swooped in to land; Mark wondered if he
should go offer a hand. The rooftop was
angled, not built for a sleigh, And a hospital’s
no place to spend Christmas Day.
But before Mark
could move, he did hear a soft sound— ‘Twas the thump of
the sled as it safely touched down And the shuffling
of friends on his roof in hoofed feet, So Mark whipped out
his phone, and he tweeted a tweet.
@GameGrumps in costumes came out of the sky. They’re up on the
housetop! I swear I’m not high.” Then his phone gave
a buzz in the palm of his hand, For @bwecht had
replied, “Mind your own business, man.”
Mark huffed but
then straightened and made for the stair After giving the
screen one more halfhearted glare, For he heard Arin’s
boots on the living room floor, And Mark had a few
questions, and then several more.
Arin bustled about,
a large sack near his feet From which he took
gifts and then stacked them up neat. A smile lit his
face with each present retrieval; When he laughed, his
form shook like a bowl full of evil.
“Dude, what the
hell?” Mark demanded, perplexed, “You broke into my
house! Where’s the courtesy text? And why didn’t you
tell me our friends can all fly? Are these presents
a trap? Like a face full of pie?”
Arin’s eyes, they
did twinkle; he spoke not a word, Merely finished
unpacking, Mark’s questions unheard, For his headphones
were hidden beneath his red cap. Then he vanished,
his ears full of jolly gift-rap.
Mark gaped like a fish,
then he rushed out the door; All the Grumps shot
him hand-hearts and took off once more. They explained not
a thing; Arin yelled, merry-bright: “Happy holidays,
all, and to all, a good night!”
Mark facepalmed and
dragged himself into the house; Not a creature was
stirring, neither Chica nor mouse. All the gifts
glimmered, innocent, under the tree; They could wait til
the morning, post-sleep and coffee.
And so if, in December,
you hear a strange sound While you’re
sleeping with nary a witness around, Just remember this
tale, and do try not to jump If you creep out of
bed and discover a Grump. ;)
Tale, Fell, and Swap bros' crush who will kiss the skelly on the cheek to use them as a flashlight because the blush of the skelly brightens the room during a blackout. (Interested on your view because this was written in a fanfiction by Miss RacoonSinQueen (I think that's her name) called "Six Skeletons, One Maid" It's realy good if you haven't read it yet!!
I thought you guys could use a break from all these angsty asks so here’s a cute one!
Some context: S/O and skeles are hanging out alone when the blackout happens.
Sans’s blush isn’t bright enough to “use as a flashlight” but it’s helpful for looking for flashlights! Though, when he jokes about how he can’t blush forever and it’s going to fade in a few minutes, you smirk and kiss him repeatedly whenever his blush starts to fade. Sans just sits there and lets it happen, then eventually he pulls you close to him and says, “now let’s see if you glow too?” and kisses you on your lips.
Papaya’s blush glows brighter than his brother and he’s too embarrassed about it than to kiss you back. Instead, he’ll say, “THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS GREAT AT MANY THINGS! INCLUDING BEING A LIVING FLASHLIGHT”. He’ll mostly laugh it off and praises you for being able to be resourceful and think practically at a time like this.
At first, he doesn’t even realize that you kissed him to make him blush for light. After you kiss him sweetly on the cheek, Red’s paralyzed for a second to comprehend what happened, then he grabs your shoulders and kisses you back on your lips. His kiss turns into a full on makeout session between you two, the darkness only fueling the passion. The privacy of the blackness, the low glow of Red’s blush, and the heat of your skin on his bones, all leads to sexy times.
Honestly??? Fell just gets so offended??? He’s not a flashlight goddamit! And he’s hurt that that’s the only reason why you kissed him! Not because he’s smart, charming, and handsome, only because you needed to him blush! He’s also embarrassed by his glow in the dark face so he goes to fix the power himself. When he comes back, he kisses you back to see you blush and says, “THERE! NOW WE’RE EVEN!”
Blue’s blush shines the brightest out of all the skeles, the light cyan glow illuminates everything within a few feet. He’s absolutely impressed that you thought of this and kisses you back in return, mostly in appreciation for being so clever in this situation. While he looks for a flashlight to fix the power, he realizes what that kiss actually meant, so he returns and says that he “can’t find” the flashlight, so they’ll have to wait for the power to come back on or wait til morning. In the meantime, he’d gladly provide light…with a little help.
When Stretch realizes why you kissed him, he’s laughing so hard, his blush glows even brighter. For some reason, this makes him so happy, making him higher than any cigarette could and he pulls you close to kiss you back. Stretch confesses that he’s liked you for a long time and you two begin making out on the couch.
A/N:Okay so some quick background on this story. It is inspired by wonderful @gryffindormischief ’s wonderful story yield.
I still, years later, am in denial so this story is set two years after the Deathly Hallows, but Fred is still alive, amd Ginny and Harry haven’t started dating yet. Anyway, here it is. I hope you enjoy. [I was really excited to write this, but then it turned out kind of sloppy and a little choppy, but I’m going to post it anyway.]
Ginny missed her family, that’s all there was to it. She still saw them of course, many of her meals were eaten at the burrow, but the Holyhead Harpies took a decent chunk of time out of her schedule. Now it was all okay, though. She got to play in the Quidditch World Cup, and even better they were letting her spend the nights with the rest of her family, Teddy, Harry and Hermione back where they had set up camp. It was great, until about midnight when Fred and George decided they weren’t quite ready to go to sleep.
In fact they decided no one should be asleep, and they’d much rather see if they could shrink Ginny and Hermione’s tent with them, and their things still in it. In seconds Ginny and Hermione were left out in the open air, with no more than a napkin’s worth of canvas for cover.
Hermione was the first one on her feet, wand drawn at the retreating twins. “Once everyone else is awake, and I can actually yell without having a world’s worth of Quidditch fans yell back, you two are so done for.”
Fred turned back only for a second, and a wicked smile lit his face. “We’ll put it on our calendar ‘Mione, can’t wait.” they were both apparated away of the path of any possible spells in seconds, and the only evidence of their terror left was Hermione swearing fluently, and Ginny grunting as she managed to get to her feet.
“Let ‘em go Granger. No use fighting. Come on, we’re getting a tent.” Ginny grabbed her wand and started away through the mass of tents.
“A tent? We didn’t pack an extra.” Hermione was suddenly rushing to catch up with the patch of scarlet hair weaving into the darkness.
Ginny stopped walking for a moment and turned back with a grin. “We’ll just have to find someone who doesn’t mind sharing.”
“No way. There is absolutely no way,” Hermione hissed as they stopped a few feet from Harry and Ron’s tent. “Your mum’ll kill me.”
“No she won’t. She trusts you, and she’ll be too busy being mad at the twins to give it a second thought.”
“Ginny.” Hermione caught her friend’s shoulder, and turned her to face her. “I get it, you still like Harry, but this is not the way to do this.”
The grin stayed stuck on her facem “But it is.” and just like that she had turned and ducked near the opening of the tent. “Ron, Harry, we need to talk.”
It was Ron’s voice that answered. “Come on in Ginny.”
Ginny took one last look back at Hermione. “You heard him.” she pulled her into the boy’s tent. Once inside Hermione was all too suddenly aware of how little she was wearing, just a pair of cotton shorts, that the hemline of her shirt reach past. Ginny however wasn’t even wearing shorts, yet reacted to this in a much more confident way, setting her hand on her hip, raising the edge of her shirt only slightly. Harry was suddenly growing very red in the face, and blinking a bit owlishly as the expanse of her leg was left even barer by the rising hem.
“Fred and George destroyed our tent, we need a place to crash.” she said cleanly while Ron sat up looking at his siter through a sleepy gaze.
“They did what exactly?”
“Shrunk our tent.” it seemed Hermione had finally found words to speak, although her body still seemed to cave in on itself. “We didn’t want to wake anyone though.”
The tent was silent a steady few minutes after that. Ron never particularly said yes, he just moved to the far side of his bed and pulled the blankets back and said in a very quiet voice, “Come on ‘Mione.” Hermione moved easily to the side of the bed and laid down on the vacated edge, pulling the blankets up over herself. They were both quickly settled, Ron’s arm around Hermione’s shoulders.
Ginny and Harry saw none of this as they were still staring at each other. “I’ll sleep on the floor, you can have the bed.” Harry had already stood up, moving to settle, while Ginny walked up to his side, and placed a hand on his chest.
“No need.” silence filled the tent again.
Ron decided silence led to too much. “Touch her and I hex your hands off, mate.”
“Message received.” Harry was still staring at Ginny as he said it, breaths making his chest race under her hand. “You can get in first.” He didn’t say it, but he really just wanted her to get in first, so.she wouldn’t be touching him anymore. Her being in his tent was doing something to him; her being here in that shirt, it was sending chills through him, and his heart felt like it was about to pound its way out of his chest. It turned out that her lying down in his bed didn’t help. He had to lie down though, he couldn’t just stand there, but she was looking at him with those eyes.
He had to though, so he laid down, took his glasses off, cast a silent nox, and pulled the blankets up over them. He couldn’t see her through the dark, but he could feel her there. He could feel her warmth seeping through the sheets, into his skin. It was all these thoughts crashing through his brain that made him nearly miss her whiser.
He heard the blankets shift over her skin and then felt her hand against his chest again. “Don’t overthink this. I’ll explain in the morning.”
“Explai-” she flattened herself against him, and then her lips found his. The warmth he had felt earlier was the bite of winter compared to this. He had needed to hold her for so long, to kiss her like this, but was always too afraid to say that this is where they should be.
She kissed him though. She was with him, holding him back, and when he tangled his fingers in her hair, she didn’t pull away. She had said not to overthink it though, so what was this?
It was good he decided. He didn’t care what it turned out to be tomorrow, because it was a chance today, and they could make it something. He could build this to be something if he tried.
Ginny pulled away then and looked at him through the dark. “It can’t wait ‘til morning.”
“No.” Harry cut her off, unwrapping his hands from her hair, and setting them on her waist instead. “Please be with me. I want this to be normal. I want to be with you. I want to hold you like this forever.”
“Then hold me.” she laid her head against his chest. “And I won’t go anywhere 'til the next game. We can just lie here all night. We can make this be normal.”
“Are you saying you’ll go out with me?”
“Yes Harry, now go to sleep. I have an early game tomorrow.”
They both settled against one another, “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” their eyes closed, as they started to drift off, but before they could fall asleep Ron spoke again.
“Harry what did I say?”
“Sorry Ron.” Harry smiled down at Ginny where she lay stiffling a laugh. “I guess I’ll have to figure out how to hold a wand without my hands.”
Ron groaned from the other bed, “Oh, bloody hell.”
A spark flew from a wand to reveal Hermione now sitting up in bed, face set in agitation, “Would you all shut up I’m trying to sleep?”
About two hours later, once everyone was very deep into their sleep the flap of the tent moved aside, and George’s head ducked in looking over to where Ginny and Harry lay swaddled in his blankets.
Fred joined his twin, and they grinned over at each other before backing out of the tent. “Mischief Managed.” George whispered.“ and again they apparated away into the August night.
FRIENDS. COLLEAGUES. ACQUAINTANCES. at half past midnight today i am going to get savage opress on star wars (the app says it’s called Heroes), and i am excited enough that i need to share this with the world. ty for your attention, updates on the Situation will be provided post-acquisition
Your response was right on target and I wanted to write a separate post on it cause I don’t want take up dash space but I did want to talk about this a little more.
Daryl has and has had a conditioned response to threats most of his life, this ‘muscle memory is exactly that. It used to be when people got too close into his personal space that he would respond in a defensive way with either his words or actions. Someone who has been systematically, physically, mentally and emotionally most of their lives is going to react differently to some so-called ‘normal’ situations than someone who has been mostly in a normal environment.
Carol’s bending down to kiss him on the forhead is a perfect example you used because it was highly unlikely that Daryl got a normal, non-painful interaction when people got that close. That heartbreaking flinch was a reaction to a percieved threat that wasn’t even there. It’s almost surprising to him on a subconcious level that that didn’t result in some kind of new pain. Carol was probably the first person who was really nice to him in quite a long time. One could imagine the effect that would have.
As for the Triggerfinger scene, I think in many ways he was expecting her to lay into him, or worse to blame him for it. He already responsible and pretty useless cause he couldn’t find that girl and really didn’t know how to deal with that. And her (at least to him) bizarre response to the death in trailer sort of confused him as well. So his reaction was to push back at her before she could hurt him (in his mind) or reject him some way. He acted according to what he thought would make her go away, and in way to protect himself like he’s always done.
You’d notice that in this scene (and in the scene in Still) he voice and mannerisms change quite a bit. Sounding more onery and recnecky than usual. It’s a different tone altogether. One could imagine his father most likely sounded exactly like this when he was lighting into his son about whatever happened to piss him off that day. The transformation in both cases was kind of unsettling to watch and that raised was certainly scary. Just as his manhandling of Beth was as well.
It was interesting to watch though, especially in retrospect, how well this transformation occurred. It was one part protection mechanism and another pat a way of playing into what he thought they both saw him as. In Carol’s case it was definitly a way to try and make her go away.
And there was certainly no excuse for his actions in either case but understanding the reasoning goes a long way in understanding the person.
And you were right, with Carol he stopped short of it. Never laid a hand on her. Has never ever laid a violent hand on her. And since then rarely raises his voice with her. His approach has been exactly the opposite of violent. In fact I think it’s obvious he’s cut his own arm off before actually hurting and would kill just about anyone who would.
If you watch the scenes with Ed and put them next to scenes with Daryl (which has been done in several gif sets, you can see just how different they are with her.
Ed talked down, got in her face,would grab her violently, smacked her openly in public and basically scared the shit out of her pretty much all the time. She was terrified of him and crossing him in any way. Daryl on the other, dosen’t tell her to do anything and talks to her quietly. When he does put his hand on her in any way it’s its gentle. Other than that first time he never berates her and always respects her space.
He never hurts in any way, in fact protects the shit out of her and would perfectly willing to beat the shit out of anyone who threatens her at all. Everything he does screams total opposite of Ed in pretty much every way. And when you consider the violence he came and what he could’ve been capable of, its nothing short of beautiful the way he is with her.
The fact is she understood what he was doing and why even then, and she even went to him the next and called him out for it (in that cut scene, check it out on youtube if you haven’t seen it) . She waited til morning til he’d cooled off a bit and basically confronted him with his own bullshit. She wasn’t afraid of him. Never has been. And he’s never given her reason to.
The beautiful trust that only two people who’ve been through similar hells could have with each other.
You wake him up in the middle of the night and ask him if he likes likes you.
When you woke him up he through his arm over your waist and asked you what was wrong.
“Do you.. like like me?” You asked shyly.
“Aish! Why do you do this to me?! I am a grown ass man blushing because his wife asked if he likes her! Stop it!!” He cringed at his blush-ful-ness and rolled over to his side and put this cover over his head.
“Baby girl, I don’t just ‘like like’ you. I ‘love love’ you. I love you more than Suga hyung loves his piano. I love you more than Namjoon hyung loves Rihanna. I love you mo-”
“Thank you baby, I understand no-”
“No. You woke me up to answer this question so now you’re going to listen to the answer. Now where was I…”
You knew you shouldn’t have woken him up but you just couldn’t over this feeling.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been the best husband in the world, but don’t let that ever make you think that I don’t love you.” He whispered as he pulled you to lay on his chest, “ You feel that? It only beats for you.”
“Jagiya, if you wanted oppa’s attention you could’ve waited til the morning and asked for it. No need to make me feel like shit at 3 in the morning. Especially when I’ve been feeling like I have been a horrible husband. You know I love you right? Please tell me you know this.” He rushed out as he laid his head on your chest held your hand.
When you asked him that question his eyes automatically watered and he felt his heart beat in his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to talk so he pulled you into his body and he kissed your forehead.
“I love you jagiya..”
“Baby girl, I love you. It’s not possible for me not to love you, I’m sorry if you feel like I’ve been slacking as a husband but I swear I’ll do better. Please know that I love you more than myself. You mean the entire world to me.
He grabbed you and kissed you passionately before spooning you to sleep.
He would be annoyed that you woke him up in the middle of the night for something so, “childish”.
He looked at you and sighed. He kissed your forehead and then your wedding ring but he walked out of the room, going to sleep in the guest room. You waited a little bit before going in the room. You saw he was sleeping and you climbed in the bed behind him. Kissing his neck softly you mumbled a sorry before closing your eyes. He squeezed your hand and then drifted back to sleep.