you can see the terror in his eyes

3

#let me tell you one thing about this #sebastian stan’s acting #all i see when i look at his face is terror #you can literally see 2340958 different emotions in his eyes #he’s breathing so heavily #and it just makes it look so real #he looks so afraid #but what shatters my heart the most is that he’s afraid of himself #bucky wanted to get away from everything #he didn’t choose this life #he was forced by hydra #bucky barnes is not a villain #i can’t look in his eyes in this scene and even imagine him being the villain #his eyes are screaming #help me #i’m sorry i took the lives of innocent people help me #i’m sorry i almost killed you steve help me #SO ANYWAY #props to sebastian stan for acting this out #because there was a lot of stuff going on in bucky’s internal monologue

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Victuuri Week Day 3: Goblin AU

in which Viktor is this 937-year-old goblin who’s looking for his bride and Yuuri is fated to his bride and can see ghosts:


It was the strangest kind of attraction.

Even Yuuri, with his rather dull intuitive perception, had been very much cognizant – at that precise moment of meeting the stranger’s gaze – of the sudden electrifying chemistry between them, transpiring ever so briefly yet imparting a long-lasting effect on his consciousness.

It felt to him as though the world around him was so abruptly thrust into an eternity of quietude, blurred by the hollowness of nonexistence, except for the figure of the man who captivated his undiluted attention, a defined entity against the illegible backdrop, like a distinctive gleam of light in a vacuum of disorienting darkness.

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{PART 19} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Not knowing whether to stay and fight, or run and protect you; Jungkook gets thrown into a world of fear and panic. Meanwhile, Yoongi and Serrena battle for victory in the silent game of war they play;

“How dreadful…to be caught up in a game and have no idea of the rules.”

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time) 

{Part 1} // {Part 18} {Part 19} {Part 20}

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BTS’s reaction to you playing their song on the piano:

A/N: Here you are, sweetie ❤️ I really hope you enjoy it! Hopefully it’s as filled full of feels as you wanted~


Jin: Jin pricks his ears, and listens to the melodious chords fluttering to his ears. You haven’t played the piano in a while. It’s good to finally hear the dusty old instrument in use. He heads towards the sound, before a bout of realisation has him stopping at the door, where just inside he can see your curved figure leaning over the keys, sweeping the music along with your fingers. He knows this tune. It’s his tune - ‘Awake’.

And without any warning - no cracking or breaking, just out of the blue, like thunder in June - tears well up in his eyes, and shimmer to the brink of spilling over. Of all the songs you could have picked, you picked the one he needs to hear. He can still remember the emotions that tumbled through him when he first sang this song: the desperation he felt to keep up with his six brothers, the terror he recoiled from, a fear of falling behind. Yet, here he is, years later, still trembling and afraid, but trying hard to mask it – reduced to tears behind the living room door. Except… no. Things have changed. Back then, he didn’t have you – you, who keep his chin up, and his eyes fixed firmly on the clouds. You, who believe without an inkling of a doubt that he can go further, stretch farther, and climb higher than he ever realised. You, who everyday whisper to him, ‘Kim Seokjin, how luck am I to have you?’ Really, he should be the one asking you. After all, if it weren’t for you, he’d still be on the ground, tear-dampened gaze filtering to fickle mist-clouds he could never reach. Now, here he is, flying – soaring – because of you. Up past blue and into the star sprinkled black of space.

The tears are falling now, but they feel good – warm and wet like a spring shower. It’s been a while since he cried - properly, like this. He opens the door, and you turn in your seat to face him, and when he holds out his arms, you run to him, and burrow into his heat. While you rest your head in the crook between his shoulder and his neck, he sings the rest of the tune in low tones. “Maybe I can’t touch the sky, but I’ll stretch my arm.”

Originally posted by snowyjin


Yoongi: It has been a tough day for Min Yoongi. He’s been sat in the studio all afternoon, all evening, and well into the night, fiddling on his laptop, trying to get the latest track just right. When he closes his eyes, he can still see the square of light from his screen, burned in blue onto his retina. He arrives back at his house, completely drained of energy, only to be greeted by a gentle wave of music when he opens the door. And despite all the muscles in his face being past their stretching point, they still manage to push up into a smile when he hears you tinkling away on the piano, playing a song he produced (of course, nothing else would do for you), playing something he hasn’t heard in a while - ‘Tomorrow’.

You stop playing when you hear him enter the room, peeking over your shoulder at his tired face.

“Please continue,” he rasps.

Your brows tip up in concern, sensing how tired he is, but you return to your music without pressing him with a ‘how was your day?’. In a few steps he’s sitting down on your right-hand side, and his fingers fitting into the groves of the worn ivory keys, he unfolds a gentle harmony in the treble cleft.

You continue on, the both of you enraptured in the music, until Yoongi’s playing fades away, and as you turn to him, wondering why he’s stopped, his head lolls onto your shoulder. Smiling, you brush a few stray wisps of hair away from his face. “Tired?”

He nods into your shoulder, eyes closing as you pick up the tune again, slower and more lullaby-like.

“Rest all you want,” you tell him, “I’m not letting you go back to work, until I know you’ve fully recovered.” Then, as he slowly slips into sleep, you whisper the lyrics from ‘Tomorrow’ he needs to hear most: “Wherever you are right now, you’re just taking a break. Don’t give up… Don’t get too far away, tomorrow.”

Originally posted by sugagifs


Hoseok: Outside, the wind whisks up a torrent of leaves, clattering in shades of frozen amber against your window, but inside, cut off from the cold autumn storm, it glows with warmth, drenched in the heat of love and affection – mainly Hoseok’s love and affection, directed at you. As you sit at the piano, running through a soft re-imagining of ‘Autumn Leaves’, he watches in appreciation, head resting in his hands, breath snatched away at the way your fingers ghost across the keys, eyes half-closed, drowned in the melody.

As the final chords hang in the air, Hoseok rouses himself from the trance you have placed him in and begins clapping in appreciation – the sole audience member in this private concert. “Wow! Y/N, just… wow! That was… wow….” He tries to search for a word to aptly describe the feelings you have stirred in him, but nothing surfaces, so instead, he crosses the distance between you, and expresses himself with a gentle hand on your cheek and a breathy kiss that presses warmth into your lips.

When he pulls away, your fingers reach out, wanting him back – and, smiling, he obliges, balancing on the edge of the piano stool so he can be that extra bit closer to you.

With the first pitter-patters of rain starting up outside, Hoseok starts up another kind of storm with you – flurries of kisses dropping down onto your skin. As the leaves fall, you fall in love.

Originally posted by joeguk


Namjoon: Sometimes, Namjoon really doesn’t like himself. When it’s late in the evening, and the light’s fading, he really doesn’t like himself. When he’s wasted away the day, erasing work, rather than progressing, he really doesn’t like himself. When he can’t force a smile without cracking, he really doesn’t like himself.

But, at least he’s coming home to you. And he knows that, despite all the negativity that’s oozing through him like sewage water, you love him. Even in moments of doubt, like right now, when he arrives home, faded, and ghostly, and wondering if he’s likeable, he hears you wandering through chords on the piano, and he knows that you know. Because he recognises the song – ‘Reflection’. It’s your reminder that it’s okay – all of it.

He leans back against the door as the familiar notes hit him – spine pressing to the wood and head tilting back till he’s gazing up at the grey ceiling. There may be no words, but each jump of your fingers across the black and ivory keys speaks to him. He hears. He understands.

After a few moments, after a few deep breaths, he feels himself – his real self – float back into his body, and he’s ready to greet you. He steps forward, into the light of the music room, where you shift to glance at him out of the corner of your eyes. The music keeps on spinning out. He smiles at you, and you smile back, and that’s all it takes for Namjoon to like himself like you love him.

Originally posted by myloveseokjin


Jimin: “Forever we are young, amidst the scattering rain of flower petals I run, wandering through this maze.” Jimin can’t help but sing the last few lines of the familiar song while you rest upon the final chords on the piano.

Turning to him, eyes shining bright, you say, “Your singing still sounds as beautiful as it did when you first sang this song.”

Jimin heaves out a sigh. “That was a long time ago, wasn’t it?” His mind flickers back to those days, an eternity ago (try a few years, but they feel infinite), when you didn’t exist in his life. So many things have changed since then. He’s changed since then.

Sensing a shift in his mood, you reach out your hands to him, hoping for a hold on his uncertain frame, quivering on the edge of being lost to remembering. In answer to your silent plea, he steps closer and winds his arms around your shoulders. You ground him back in reality with your head resting on his chest.

“It wasn’t so long ago…” you murmur.

“Sure feels like it though.” Stifling thoughts begin clinging onto Jimin, realisations of how far on his life has progressed, how much closer he is to stepping off the cusp of youth… realisations that the lyrics of the song you played can’t be true. He won’t be young forever, and neither will you. It terrifies him.

You stretch your neck to gaze up at him. “We’re still young,” you assure him, “And even when we grow old, and get grey-haired and wrinkly, we’ll stay young – on the inside at least. All I need is you by my side, and I feel like I could stay vibrant and strong for the rest of my life.”

How is it that you always know what to say? Jimin swallows down his foul-tasting fears and kisses the top of your head. “Young forever, you and me.”

Originally posted by lonastic


Taehyung: As you drift through the dream-enhancing chords, sat over the piano, Taehyung stands on the other side of the door, enraptured and enwrapped by your playing. When the final notes peel away into a calm quiet, he opens the door to be greeted by your smile.

“Just One Day?” Taehyung asks, although he doesn’t need an answer from you – he recognises the melody like he recognises the freckles on your face.

“Did you like my arrangement of it?”

“Like it?” Taehyung flops down onto the nearby sofa, and motions for you to join him, “Like it? I adored it.”

“I adore you,” you counter, abandoning the piano stool to find a comfier spot with Taehyung, perched above him, legs straddling his waist. Your hair falls down around your shoulders and, as you lean towards Taehyung, it cuts off the rest of the world, encasing the two of you in your own existence.

Taehyung’s hands reach up to cup your face, and when you close your eyes to his touch, he stretches up to kiss your eyelids. In parting his lips from your skin, he murmurs, “I never really understood the lyrics of that song until I met you.”

“What? ‘Just One Day’?”

He nods, bumping his nose against yours in the process. “I never understood the desperate need to be with someone, even if it was only for one day. But then I saw you, and suddenly it made sense. I got the feeling that even if I could only be with you for one day, one hour, even one second, that would be enough for me. It’s like my purpose is to be with you.”

You felt the sting of tears as they jumped up behind your lids, but you refused to let them fall. “I suppose it’s a good thing we have more than one day then.”

Originally posted by mayfifolle


Jungkook: Poised on your doorstep, Jungkook takes a deep breath and steps forward to knock.

And pauses.

The last time he saw you, you had been in floods of tears, both of you shouting things you didn’t mean. Now he’s outside, wanting to apologise, to go back to how it used to be. But he’s scared. He’s terrified. And he can’t bring himself to make a move.

That is until he hears the strains of a piano playing, wafting through an open window. Those chords are familiar – ‘Love is not over’. On recognising the song, he slowly breaks down – like a lump of sugar dissolving in coffee, one second he’s solid and the next he’s disappearing, forgetting himself and slipping over into tears. He can’t bear to be apart from you any longer, and judging by your playing, neither can you. Not caring how much of a mess his face is, puffy and red, striped with tear-tracks, he knocks. And after a few seconds you answer. Your face is a mirror of his, just as cracked, just as damp.

“I’m sorry…” is all you can say before he pulls you into a tight hug that squeezes all the air out of you, and he’s murmuring in your ear, “Me too. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Just like that it’s okay again. With the two of you, things can never truly be finished – you can never truly be done with each other. Love will never be over, and so long as you’re breathing, you’ll be together.

Originally posted by jungkookfortunekookies


! I did not make the gifs !

Prompt from @dapperinsomniac – “Lena and Kara discussing the lead weapon privately, while Lena reassures Kara everything will be okay afterwards (when Mon-El is gone)” combined with the prompt from @tamkinz13 “Need the Lena /Winn. Brotp and how they only need sounds and not words to speak sometimes.”


Kara trusts her. Supergirl trusts her.

She trusts her, but god, she doesn’t trust Lilian.

And neither does Lena.

How could she? The years of abuse notwithstanding, this woman had just abandoned the girl that she lov – Supergirl, she’d abandoned Supergirl – to die, either at Rhea’s hands or, accidentally, at her own sister’s.

So when she quirks her eyebrow – slightly, so slightly that the genocidal leader of Cadmus doesn’t see it, that ultra-powerful Superman doesn’t see it – at Supergirl, Supergirl sees it.

Of course she does. She knows Lena better than anyone.

Or, Kara Danvers does.

Same difference, anyway.

And that quirk of her eyebrow is all she or Supergirl need to communicate what comes next: because that quirk of her eyebrow is meet me on the roof. Alone. Twenty minutes.

And it takes her nineteen of those minutes to extricate herself from her mother, but she times her disappearance with the arrival of Kara’s geeky IT friend Winn.

The one whose lip had curled at the sight of Lilian Luthor, because she killed people. She killed people, good people, innocent people, and Winn knows.

Knows what it’s like to be the child of someone who is capable of that.

She doesn’t want to avoid him.

She wants to be around him, working at his side, now more than ever. And she will, she will.

But first, she pleads an excuse to run and get something from her second office, a vital component they’ll need. Winn nods as he gets to work, and Lena, heels or no heels, runs.

Runs up to the roof, the detonator safe in her pocket, safe between her fingers.

“Supergirl,” she calls, because Supergirl is watching her city start to smolder, hands on her hips and agony on her face.

“Lena,” she turns hastily, and she sounds, now more than ever, like Kara Danvers.

Smaller. More vulnerable. More breakable.

And Lena hates herself for the choice she’s putting in her hands. But she has to, she has to, and lorg she hopes that Kara will understand.

“I want you to have this.” 

She presses the detonator into Supergirl’s hands, and both of their eyes linger for a moment at the spot where their fingers touch until an explosion in the distance makes their eyes jagged, makes their eyes glazed, makes their eyes focused.

“What is it?”

“The detonator. My mother… she abandoned you on that Daxamite ship. And she’s only trying to make things better with me now to save her own skin. Because she knows I can get the device to work.”

“Lena, I am so sorry – “

But Lena stops her with trembling hands and a trembling laugh. 

“No, no, K – Supergirl, that’s not why I – I mean, she’ll detonate it. Whether you’ve reached the conclusion of your battle with Rhea or not. Kara Danvers.”

Supergirl starts, and Lena suppresses a sad smile.

“She could lose her boyfriend. I don’t want that to happen unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

If she feels anything about Kara having a boyfriend to begin with, she’s been trained by Lilian Luthor long enough, hard enough, degrading enough, to keep it off of her face. 

“This detonator – when Winn and I fix the device, this will activate it, not the device itself.”

Kara slips it into one of Winn’s very clever pockets and nods solemnly.

“Thank you, Lena. And when this is over, if you need to talk – about your mother, about Rhea – you’ll know where to find me.”

She twitches her knees like she does when she’s about to take off, and Lena reaches out for her arm instinctively.

Supergirl stills and Lena hesitates only for a millisecond before bringing her lips to her hero’s cheek, long and soft and lingering.

They both close their eyes, letting the feeling of Lena’s lips on Kara’s cheek replace the feeling of their city burning around them.

Lena pulls back, and Kara nods without looking at her.

She understands about strength. She’ll have it for Lena.

And Lena will have it for her.

She’s still shaking when she slips back into her office, and Winn barely glances up at her. He doesn’t have to – he knows she’ll be able to assess his progress so far at a glance.

But he hears a slight sniffle as she settles in beside him, her fingers immediately falling into rhythm with his, her calculations immediately weaving into and out of his.

“You okay?” he murmurs, because somehow he knows – of course he knows, of course, of course he does – that she wouldn’t want her mother to overhear any sign of perceived weakness.

She turns her head to pierce his eyes with her own for a moment, and briefly, just briefly, she lets him see the terror in them, the preemptive guilt and the worthlessness and the rage.

His hand hovers above hers, waiting for permission to touch her. She shifts her hand up, and the coolness of his skin is a relief.

The way he doesn’t flinch away from a Luthor is a relief.

“Lena Luthor, we’re about to blow up the Death Star together. Are you with me?”

And this time, Lena’s smile itself could end a war.

“I can see why Kara loves you so much,” she tells him as she passes him a voltage meter.

“And I can see why she loves you, too,” he grins, arching a suggestive, we’ll-talk-girls-later eyebrow as he takes what he didn’t even have to ask her for, and the rest of their work is flawless.

Because he’s right: they’re going to save the world together.

This is my favourite moment between the Colonel and his Lieutenant.  More than Roy saving Riza from Lust after cauterizing his own wounds with his alchemy, more than him hugging her to his chest after she almost bled to death right in front of him, more than her admitting she would choose death over living without him.  This moment - blind Roy performing the now familiar motions of his flame alchemy as Riza steers him - this moment steals my breath and heart.

This one shot encompasses so much of the spirit of FMA, the spirit of fighting when you have nothing left, giving everything you’ve got even - or especially - when you’re at your most broken.  He’s blind.  She just almost bled to death.  And still, they won’t let it stop them.  He can still transmute.  She can still stand.  And together, they can still fight.  

And of course, the Royai implications.  This side of Mustang must be part of why Riza is so devoted to him (God knows it’s why we’ve fallen for him) - he’s selfless when it matters, resolute in the face of the possibility of death, and, in this moment, every bit as determined as Edward Elric.  

Their expressions are a whole story in themselves.  

Riza is staring resolutely ahead.  You can read, in her gaze, the pain and fatigue from her recent injury, her utter refusal to let that stop her, her steely focus, and her immutable faith that, blind or not, her Colonel can still perform miracles.  

And Mustang’s face - good Lord, the emotions in that expression.  Frustration at his own weakness, rage over his helplessness, guilt, fury, hatred, fear, desperation… and, somehow, despite all that, trust.  He must hate having to lean on someone else, literally, but he’s willing to do it if it means he can still contribute to saving his country.  And he trusts her.  Remember when he unleashed his fire on the ‘inferi’ fighting Ed & co underground, and he made the flames swerve around his allies?  His alchemy is based on control.  That’s how he transmutes, because he knows his alchemy kills.  And he’s done his share of the killing, enough for a lifetime.  But now he can’t see to aim, can’t see to control, can’t see to direct the flames around his friends, his allies, his soldiers.  Can you imagine the terror he must feel, blindly unleashing his fire and knowing that he has to hit one man out of the hundreds on that field?  And if he hits anyone else, their deaths would be on him.  But he’ll still do it, because he trusts her to guide his aim.  

She’s the only one left he trusts enough to be his eyes.

Alright, so, I’ve been watching A Series of Unfortunate Events even though I never read the books (I know, I know, I’m very behind the times), and there’s one thing that’s really been bugging me to talk about. 

In the first two episodes of the series, where the Baudelaires are living with Count Olaf, it kind of starts out with you thinking, “hey, this might not be too bad. Maybe this show is going to be funny. Count Olaf will try and get their fortune,fail miserably every time, and the kids will outwit him.”

And then you see how Count Olaf acts, and you realize that this show isn’t going to be pure humor, but you still hold out hope, like the Baudelaires do, that it might not be a show that chronicles horrible events. 

And then Count Olaf hits Klaus. 

Count Olaf hits Klaus, and you can see the terror that instantly springs up in his eyes. There’s a physical mark of this man’s distaste and dislike of these children, and the Baudelaires know from that moment on (and so do you) that they need to get away from here, no matter what.

Throughout the episode, every time you see Klaus, your eyes are drawn to the bruise that sits square on his cheek. There’s no getting around the fact, no thinking that maybe it could’ve been caused by something else, but more than that- 

You can see the terror in the Baudelaires eyes. 

I’m not talking about fear or horror, even though those are there as well, I’m talking about flat-out terror. They know this man murdered their parents, and it’s one thing to go after adults (even though that’s despicable as well), but it’s quite another to go after children. 

Defenseless, scared, miserable, terrified children. 

And idk. I guess that that was just the moment that it really hit me that this villain resembled too many of the people we see irl. An adult that picks on kids and doesn’t feel any remorse. 

Spirit in the House - chap 8/10

Modern!AU Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader is in a coma after a car accident. Bucky moves into your apartment and find your spirit still hanging around. (Based on Just like Heaven)

Word Count: 1,965

Warnings: Language, Mention of Cheating

A/N: Grab your bottles of wine ‘cause the last 3 chapters are going to be extra cheesy. Sorry for the wait, hope this is worth it. 

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10

Originally posted by dailyevanstan

In the fifth month of your coma, your spirits declined. So to speak. Your chances of survival were very slim.

Bucky didn’t visit you often, he was afraid he might run into Peggy. But everytime he visited, he always placed a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead and you could feel the gentle pressure of his lips against your skin.

He never mentioned that to you, so you never commented on it.

Bucky would read books to you, watch movies with you until he fell asleep on the sofa, too tired to move. Most of the time, he was trying to fight off sleep so he could stay with you a little bit longer.

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potatoesareimportant  asked:

"you’re my emergency contact and i’ve been in an accident so you drop everything to come to the hospital" nalu pleeeeasse

Natsu’s heart stutters to a stop as he nears the hospital room. His pulse roars in his ears, overwhelming, drowning out the sounds around him. Fingers graze the doorknob, but he hesitates, stomach twisting sickly at the thought of what he might find beyond the white walls. Natsu inhales sharply, imagining Lucy—bright, happy, smiling Lucy—lying on the other side, broken. Mouth going dry, Natsu swallows thickly. Teeth scrape along his lower lip, biting until the skin splits and he can taste blood on his tongue. His chest tightens, an invisible hand curling around his heart and squeezing.

When he answered the phone earlier he thought for sure his heart had been ripped clear through his rib cage, shattering bone and puncturing lungs. He simply couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t feel anything for the longest time, could barely hear himself think as the words kept echoing through his head.

He never liked the word accident, but not he thinks he might hate it.

It’s been three months and a handful of days since he last saw her, since they ended things. He thought he was over it, done, but maybe he’s just spent too long lying to himself. He’s always been good at that.

The door creaks as he pushes it open, squealing loudly before banging against the wall roughly, a thunderclap in an otherwise silent area. He should feel bad about the noise, given where he is, but Natsu simply can’t bring himself to care.

Inside the room a head snaps up, hazy, brown eyes locking with his, startled and confused. Wispy, wild hair tumbles over the girl’s shoulders, half-pulled away from her pretty face with a pair of clips to leave the bandage along her temple uncovered. Her eyes widen as she sees him, her lips parting just the slightest. She stares, unblinking, as if he’s a ghost—her ghost.

“Lucy,” he breathes, voice cracking, heart in his throat. He steps farther into the room, hands trembling at his sides as he takes her in: disheveled and exhausted, but still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Lucy,” he says again, suddenly able to breathe again.

Her lips tremble. “Natsu?” she croaks, voice thick and afraid, but her shoulders relax when she sees him, a light flickering in her eyes. “What are you—”

He crosses the room in two steps and she cuts off as he cups her face in his shaking hands, her skin clammy beneath his burning fingers. Natsu ducks down, crouching to meet her gaze, his thumbs brushing along her cheeks, wiping at stray tears and flecks of blood and dirt. Her own hand comes up to clutch at his wrist, her fingers freezing as she clings to him, nails biting into his skin. He only holds her tighter, searching her expression for any discomfort.

“Are you okay?” he asks her, swallowing thickly as she quivers. Blood dots the bandage on her temple, and the hand not caught in hers slides along her cheek briefly, his finger ghosting along the edge of the bandage. She flinches and he pulls back, palm pressed to her cheek. “What happened?” It comes out more demanding than intended, but if it startles Lucy she certainly doesn’t show it. He figures she’s put up with him for so long that she’s simply desensitized.

Her fingers curl tighter around his wrist, her free hand knotting in the bed sheets roughly. Her leg jiggles where it’s tossed over the edge of the mattress, her knee bumping against his briefly. A nervous tick, he knows.

Lucy tries to smile for him, but it comes out watery. Her lips tremble against the edge of his palm, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. God, but does she try to smile. “I’m fine,” she tells him softly, squeezing his hand slowly, “just a concussion.” His lips part, a protest on his tongue, but Lucy continues before he can ask what happened. “Natsu, what are you doing here?”

A lump builds in his throat when she says his name, his heart clenching. It sounds familiar on her tongue, sweet as honey and twice as thick. He hadn’t realized it was something he missed until just now. He hadn’t realized it was something he could miss.

His fingers stroke along her cheek and she leans into his hand. Her gaze is expectant, questioning, though not unfriendly. The last time they saw each other left them on bad terms, but they seem to be forgotten now. “They called me,” he murmurs, barely able to manage more than a breathy whisper as he stares down at her. “Emergency contact.”

Lucy is silent for a long moment, though she doesn’t protest as his fingers continue to peruse her cheeks, her jaw, the length of her neck, his thumbs barely brushing against her collarbone, just barely visible beneath her scarf. He thinks he should stop staring, touching her like he was scared to death of losing her, but he’s willing to admit that for a moment he felt the world beginning to crumble around him when he got that phone call.

Her lips brush along his palm, not quite touching and not quite kissing. “You shouldn’t be here,” she tells him, voice cracking. She quivers, fingers squeezing around his wrist, and Natsu slips a hand down to cradle the side of her neck, just below her jaw.

“Lucy,” he breathes, tilting her chin gently so that she meets his eyes. He wonders if she can see the raw, biting terror there, lingering just beneath the surface. Natsu swallows, wets his lips, then tilts his head down to rest his temple against hers, his arm sliding around her back and pulling her close, as if he could swallow her whole. Lucy makes a home against his rib cage, curling close to him, her own arms winding around his torso and holding him close. “I would be here even if they didn’t call me,” he whispers against her hair, the beating of his heart growing steady, echoing hers.

Lucy doesn’t ask why and he doesn’t explain, instead they stitch themselves together, hands curling though hair and arms consuming the other.

Dangerous Woman (Part 5) 🌙

A/N: Oh my god, this turned out longer than I expected it to. All I can say is good luck and have a new set of panties ready. Have fun, you smutty babies.

Pairing(s): Chanyeol x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, heavy sex, bondage, blindfolds, orgasm denial, degradation, anal sex, asshole Chanyeol, daddy kink

Requested: No

Summary: (Y/N) might be addicted to someone. And that someone isn’t Luhan.

Word Count: 8237

Soundtrack: Criminal // Britney Spears

Originally posted by scartic

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | PART 5

When I finally come to my senses and pry my welded eyelids open, the first thing my brain registers is the dull throbbing of my jaw, followed by the fact that my entire body has stiffened to the point of no return.

I’m lying on my side, my cheek pressed against a soft surface. Upon moving my arms, I realize that my hands are bounded behind my back tightly, the coarse material of rope digging into the tender skin of my wrists. The same goes for my legs, my sneaker-clad feet tied together and preventing me from squirming around too much.

That’s when the panic kicks in and I struggle to an upright position, bumping my head against the low ceiling. Now that I’m sitting up, I can see that I’m in a small car that seems to be racing a hundred miles per minute.

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anonymous asked:

I love that "I think it's cute that you think you're gonna outlive me" is a real thing that Ryan has actually said to Gavin but it sounds like something straight out of fahc

“Michael’s gonna go in an explosion.” Gavin says it like it’s a common fact. The crew is sitting around the penthouse living room talking and Gavin somehow made it to the topic of how everyone in the crew will die.

Michael snorts and shrugs, not bothering to argue but also not disagreeing with him. 

“Oh man. Imagine the headlines when Ryan goes. I can see it now,” Gavin stretches his hands across the space in front of him, “’Vagabond finally killed. Los Santos is finally safe from his terror’. I can’t wait to see how many news networks you’re on.”

The drama pulls a few laughs from the surrounding crew, and even Ryan smiles. He doesn’t lift his eyes from the knife he’s sharpening, but leans forward ever so slightly. “I think it’s cute that you think you’re gonna outlive me,” he says in a way that is not inherently menacing by his tone of voice, but at the same time the sweetness of it makes it fucking terrifying. 

The rest of the crew is silent for a beat before bursting into laughter at the shocked expression on Gavin’s face. Ryan doesn’t elaborate, and Gavin keeps his distance for a few days.

Children of The Gods Ch. 4 - Demigod AU [Jason Todd x Reader]

A/n: Here’s ch. 4! I hope you guys like it because I was a bit nervous to post it. The last chapter didn’t get as much action as I hoped and it kinda dampened my spirits. This chapter is a bit shorter and goes more toward the reader’s state of mind. Hope you love it and I appreciate any feed back loves! Thank you!
(Chapter 5 will have some action!)

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3

Tagging: @memento-scribet @cherryignacio @queen-of-all-the-fandoms @annoyed-kitten11 @4evahevah @keepjasontoddsafe @aworldwideapart @shortycraft13 @nerdy-and-ginger @bat-lakota @left-boob-chris @tim-help @zuni21798 @hamsterforlive @books-netflix-and-pizza @sad-horchata @star-wars-5555 @abluepenguinlove @so-little-time-to-many-fandoms @ultralillylove @holywinchesterness @miraisnotavailable @marvelsimaginess @axa-vega @heyitsilverwolf @elysiannostalgia @kazuha159 @kamuithedragonlord

Italicized = Dream

_________

Upon returning to the campsite you found the others fast asleep still, not having been bothered by your absence. It didn’t take Jason long to follow in their footsteps and pass out leaning up against a tree. Though you couldn’t help but watch him and the others, and just think. Your eyes wandered from person to person, thoughts rushing through your head about the trials to come.

Are you cut out for this? These people are your friends and they trust you with everything they have. Trust you to lead them, to protect them. How could you protect them? You’re all in this mess because of your inability to protect Garfield, and now he’s with the Sirens. Scared and alone.

Sighing you ran a hand through your [h/l] hair. The ends snagging in your fingers. Taking a glance at the case that holds your father’s lighting bolt you think, ‘Maybe he’s right. This is something I should’ve fought on my own.’ Your eyes fall on Jason again, the moment you just had still ever present in your mind. What is it about him that changes things? You’ve met other offspring of Athena, some male and others female, but there’s just something different at work here. Perhaps it’s his story about being resurrected or something else entirely.

Though one thing you knew was now is not the time for these thoughts. You have a mission at work here, focus is key to success. Focus is what you will need tomorrow, and being tired hinders that. Laying back against your bag you stare up at the stars, allowing your eyelids to become heavy and eventually pull you into the addictive trance of sleep.


It was all dark. The only sound heard was a faint dripping of water droplets. You stood silent, the other sound reaching your ears being your own slow breathing. In and out, in and out. It’s calm rhythm never faltering. Where are you?

Staying still until torches lit out of nowhere, making your guard fly up higher. Hand reaching for the hilt of you sword, only to find it and all weapons missing. The torches led down a narrow hall, the only way out of the circular room you were in.

Hesitantly, you began down the corridor. Ready for any sort of attack. As you walked faint humming, almost singing, could be heard. The song was familiar, a lullaby your mother once sang to you. Coming closer to the humming, it grew into soft singing, luring you closer. The voice was almost familiar.

Coming to the end of the hall you entered a room. It was similar to the one you were just in, the humming being louder than ever. Turning around you saw the hallway gone, replaced by a solid wall. Looking into the room again, it had changed.

Your blood ran cold at the sight. Each member of your team lay bloodied, battered, and lifeless. Some with their eyes wide with terror, others with mangled limbs. It was truly horrifying. A cry seeped from your throat before you quickly muffle it with your hand.

The cry made the singing turn to laughter. “Poor little hero. Couldn’t save your friends, your mother, or your unspoken love. You were never cut out for this, I guess even the mighty Zeus can be wrong.” The voice’s tone was light and airy, a beautiful pitch and tone to it. Your gaze scanned each of your comrades again, stopping on the slight rise and fall of a chest. Eyes trailing up to see Jason’s blue eyes widened in terror. Rushing over you noticed the blood pooling around him. His eyes darted to yours, he heaved a breath “We.. Trusted.. You” gasping before falling limp. “No, no, no. Jason!” Turning you saw Kaldur next, coming to his side you shook him, “Kaldur! Please!”

“No use little hero. They’re all gone. Thanks to me and you.” The voice giggled, feeling a finger run across your back. Whipping around you saw nothing. Another sound added to the voice, a heavy panting and growling.

“4 days left” the voice said as heavy footsteps came near you. The animalistic panting and growls almost right on top of you. “You’re running out of time.”

The noises stopped in front of you as you rose to your feet, as if an invisible beast stood there. Feeling the exhale of something blow against your face, a low growl accompanying it.

The voice giggled again, “If I were you, I’d wake up little hero… WAKE UP!” the voice screamed a deafening screech as the unseen beast roared in your face.

Jolting awake to the feeling of someone shaking you and yelling for you to wake up. Instinct took over as you pulled out the knife in the holster around your ankle and flipped the person on their back. With a knee to their chest you held the blade to their throat, all done in a single swift motion. Your breathing heaved as you stared down into a familiar face. Dick.

“Whoa hey!” He yelled, surprised at your attack.

Realization hit and you scrambled off him, backing away. Breathing still labored and mind reeling from the nightmare. “[F/n] calm down. Breathe.” Kaldur said placing a hand on your shoulder. Nodding you regulated your breathing, wiping away the thin layer of sweat from your forehead. “Dick, I’m so sorry.” Apologizing once having gained your head again. “It’s alright, are you okay?” Worry laced in his tone.

You nodded, “Yeah, yeah. I just. I don’t know what happened.” “You were yelling in your sleep” Kori informed you, coming up to the other side of you. “I was? Sorry, I guess it was just a bad dream.” Kaldur looked at you, concern showed in the way his brows furrowed together. Your nightmares were rare, and only happened in times of extreme stress, he knows that. You shared a glance with him, “I’m fine. Really.” He sighed in defeat before handing his head. Standing he replied “Alright.”

You nodded and stood up as well. Clearing your voice, you instructed for them all to pack up their things. As they did so you thought about the nightmare you just had. Who was that voice? What was that creature? These questions bombarded you all the way up to your moving out of the campsite.

You were silent again while leading. The entire team watching you carefully, wondering what had happened in that nightmare. Conner cleared his voice, “[F/n] do you know anything about this first trial?”

Looking back, you nodded. “Our first trial is to get the map that leads to the adamantine. We will face a creature called the Drakon Kholkikos, or the Colchian Dragon. A ancient watchful serpent of who used to watch over the sacred groves of Ares and protect the golden fleece. It’s known for the magical properties it’s teeth contain along with the fact that it is sleepless on its own. Making it the perfect guard. It’s a worthy adversary, keep your guard up and never give it an inch.” Instructing while spotting the entrance to the cave you must enter.

“Then our second trial will be to obtain a special sword that could help with our final trial. It’s said to be the sword of Theseus, the one used to slay the Minotaur in the labyrinth. It could be of use. In the second trial we will face the Chimera. But let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.” Explaining while looking at your group. “Do you know the third trial?” Roy asked curiously. You shook your head, “No, the trial is a mystery to everyone but the gods.”

“Now let’s focus on the task at hand, here’s our plan. Jason and Roy, you’re our best marksmen, use the bows to take care of long range attacks, but Jason be ready to step in with a sword if need be. Conner and Kaldur, you’re in charge of keeping its attention. Keep its focus. While you’re doing that Dick, Kori, and I will work on weakening and taking it down completely, there is a weak point below it’s head. Sound good to everyone?” Asking the entirety of the group. Exchanging glances they all nodded. “Alright, then let’s give ’em hell.”

Blood Relations Part 12

Originally posted by got7kings

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10 - Extra, Part 11 , Part 12, Part 13

A/N: after a long time away… I’m finally updating!!! So this part has a lot of shocking things happening in it prepare for smut and I can’t wait for you to read it!! I hope it’s worth your time!

Words: 6214

Pairing: Jaebum/Reader

Warning!: slight smut xD

Summary: another vision troubles your sleep, making you seek out for answers but not getting the ones you were expecting…

Previous Part: Part 11

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I’m Finally Home; 1840 words
Isak and Even watch Lito’s speech at pride and Isak gets reflective
[AO3]
DOES CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR 1 SCENE OF SENSE8 S2 IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED IT YET

When Isak gets home from work he’s dead on his feet.  All he wants is to strip off his clothes and crawl into bed with Even and sleep for at least 12 hours.

So when he stumbles into their room and finds Even on his laptop wiping his tears away with the sleeve of his hoody, Isak’s heart sinks through the floor.

“Baby?” He drops his bag without a second thought and crosses the room quickly. “What’s wrong?” Isak asks as he crawls up the bed to his sniffling boyfriend.

“No, no, it’s- I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m just watching something.” Even shakes his head, laughing tearfully and wiping at his eyes some more and relief has Isak flopping into the mattress with a groan.

“You had me worried for a second.” Isak mumbles, his voice muffled into the duvet.

“Sorry.” Even gives him a comforting rub between the shoulder blades and Isak melts even further into the mattress.  He’s pretty sure he could fall asleep like this.  Even if he is still in his outdoor clothes.

“I think you should watch it, actually.” Even says casually, rubbing Isak’s back slowly. Isak’s definitely going to fall asleep if Even keeps doing that.

“Nooooo, Even, I’m too tired to start a new show.” Isak shakes his head, still face down on the bed.

“No, not the whole show, but I think you should watch this scene.” Even persists.

“How long is it?” Isak peaks across at Even, reluctant to move.

“Not even five minutes.” Even says after a few seconds of scrolling along the timeline at the bottom of his Netflix screen.

“Okay, okay.” Isak concedes.  “But I gotta change first.” He heaves himself up into a sitting position with a groan and Even gives him a sympathetic smile as he looks around for his sweats.

“Hey, I got it.” Even says, and before Isak can ask what he means Even has sprung into action.  He moves his laptop from his lap and leans over to Isak.  Even unbuttons Isak’s work shirt with nimble fingers and pushes it from Isak’s shoulders, leaving him in just his undershirt, before pushing Isak down gently so he can get his jeans off.

Isak smiles weakly, too tired to fight this babying, and allows Even to strip him of his jeans and slide his sweats up in their place.

“There.” Even drops a warm kiss to the tip of Isak’s nose and then sits back up against the wall of pillows he had clearly spent the evening perfecting.

“Thanks.” Isak mumbles as he gets himself under the duvet and cuddles up next to Even, peering at the screen curiously.  “What show are we watching?”

“It’s called Sense8.” Even replies.  “You ready for Lito’s big moment?” Isak nods, curious to see what on screen magic brought his boyfriend to tears this time.  Even hits the space bar and Isak settles in for the next five minutes.

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In Dreams 17

Chapter 1...Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9...Chapter10… Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16

Scully and Diana both look stunned and based on that alone, he can’t ascertain what’s happening.

No, no, no, no, no….

They are stock still, all three of them and the only sound in the room is raspy, terrified breathing. He closes his eyes and sees the little girl on the beach, she disintegrates like a pillar of sand in a windstorm.

No, no, no, no, no….

Diana wavers and pitches forward ever so slightly, reaching for a wound under her shirt cuff. He lets out a long, relieved breath. Scully is okay, safe, safe, safe. He immediately feels guilty for it as he watches Diana’s eyes go distant and unfocused.  

“I’m…something’s…I can’t,” she stammers.

“She must have an allergy,” Scully says as she picks up the phone.

“I don’t,” she responds, her voice breathy and constricted.

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settle-down-frohike  asked:

35) things you said that made me feel real Turn-about is fair play homeskillet! 😘

Thank you so much for the prompt! No fluff this time :D

Deep in the night, they find her. They always find her.

She cowers when they tear and gnaw at her; her skin falling off, her resolve diminishing into darkness. A darkness where she can’t even hide. All she can do, all she needs to do is fight. So she struggles, she screams and thrashes around.

Until she finally wakes up.

Panting heavily, her heart racing, pounding, racing, trying to escape her chest. Trying to escape this reality. What is real, she thinks, counting to ten (like she’s learned since she’s been… back) and feeling her breathing return to normal ever so slowly.

Another nightmare.

Scully needs to remember this. Just a nightmare. None of it is real. She repeats these words, mouths them to herself here in the dark, but they feel hollow. There are no pictures, nothing to cling to or be angry at. Just feelings. And Dana Scully has never been good with handling feelings.

“Scully? You awake?” The knock on her door is soft; so soft she would not have heard it had she been asleep.

“I’m awake.” She lets him know, hoping he’ll just stroll in. This is the first time they’ve had adjoining rooms while on a case. Sometimes they’re not even on the same floor or in same building complex. Mulder opens the door and strolls in as if it were the middle of the day and not dead night.

“Can’t sleep?” Scully asks him before he can say anything else; question why she’s awake at this hour. She’s seen herself after her nightmares; the tear-streaked face, the pale complexion. It’s dark here in the room with the only source of light a sputtering street light outside. He’s walking closer to the bed and Scully thinks back to their first case when he let her have his bed while he told her about his sister’s abduction. Right now she hopes he doesn’t want her to return the favor.

“I haven’t been sleeping well.” He pulls up a chair and sits close to her bed, but not too close. She can see him better now; shadows playing on his face, his eyes alert and curious. But she keeps quiet. Scully can tell he wants her to admit the same. She flushes with horror thinking he might have heard her scream out from her nightmare. The first few nights her mother had stayed with her and after her Melissa. Both, with teary, pitiful eyes had told her about her night terrors. What are those dreams about? Her sister had wanted to know. Scully had not told her. Could not tell anyone.

“You could watch some TV?” She offers. “I was about to turn it on myself.”

“Hm.” The chair squeaks as Mulder stretches out his legs, almost touching the bedpost. “Does this happen every night, Scully?” The gentleness in his voice surprises her as much as his question and she startles.

“What do you mean?” Scully wills her voice to be steady, to be strong.

“Scully, come on.” He leans forward, his elbows on his knees. His face is still so far away it seems, yet she feels like he’s invading her personal space.

“I have nightmares from time to time,” she admits, “Everyone has them.”

“Not like this.”

“Well, not everyone has experienced what I have, Mulder.” She doesn’t mean to sound so irritated and she almost apologizes. Almost.

“I know that, Scully,” his voice is so soft, like a caress and she immediately feels the anger subside again, “I just – maybe you should have taken some more time off.”

“No. I want to work. It… it helps.”

“Can I help you, too?”

“What?”

“Just… can I stay here? Just for tonight? I’ll behave.” Mulder promises with a chuckle.

“What do you mean stay here?”

“In this chair. Just… just in case.”

“Mulder, you need to sleep. You can’t sleep in a chair.”

“Watch me.” Another chuckle. “Please, Scully.” His voice is pleading and she’s glad now that it’s too dark to see his face. She can hear everything she doesn’t want to know in his voice. Her mother told her how much Mulder suffered when she was gone. She’s never seen it; has not seen a difference in him in the daylight. Now, though… now she understands.

“All right,” she settles back down, facing him. “You can stay.” Her voice is barely above a whisper; she can’t speak these words loudly, afraid they might sound like defeat. Mulder’s even, certain breathing is a peaceful lullaby, rocking her back to sleep.

They’re back. Laughing at her in the darkness, their hands reaching for her. Grabbing. Tearing at her arms, scratching her skin.

“Scully, hey, it’s all right.” The voice is above her, somewhere, and she gasps. The hands, though, they’re still there. The darkness keeps its hold on her, tries to drag her down.

“It’s all right, you’re here. You’re here with me. It’s Mulder.”

If only her eyes would open, she thinks, reaching out her hand. Something tender brushes her cheek, then the other one. Warm. Warm and solid.

“Open your eyes, Scully,” the voice is closer, drowns out the darkness and pulls her up, “Look at me. This is real. I’m real.”

“Mulder?” She mumbles, her eyes blinking furiously, waking up.

“Yes, it’s me.” The relief in his voice is palpable and finally her eyes snap fully open. There he is; his face close to hers. So close he’s almost blurry.

“Just a nightmare,” he assures her; the same words she used to calm herself earlier, “You had a nightmare. It was not real. None of it is real.” She can only nod. If she opens her mouth now, even if just to say thank you, the tears will flow. She is not ready. Not ready to let him see him like that.

Without another word, he puts his arms around her tightly, holding her. They’re lying there entwined, touching in places they’ve not dared feel before, breathing in the same air.

“I’ll be here.” He whispers against her mouth and Scully closes her eyes again. This is real, she reminds herself; he is real and I am.

We are real.

Scully sleeps and this time there’s no nightmare.

Manspreading Pt. 2


Genre: Smut, angst, fluff

Word Count: 2,641

AUTHOR’S NOTE: OK so I absolutely hated the 2nd chapter of this series. I feel like I’ve built a nice and comprehensive backstory in the first chapter and then went right and fucked it up in the 2nd one purely for smut purposes. But now since I’m going to be continuing this story, I went back and made changes to the 2nd chapter to make it more realistic and set the groundwork for part 3. 

It’s still smutty but now with a more realistic approach to tae’s first time.

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Epilogue

“Seriously, Taehyung?” He scratches the back of his head sheepishly and gives you his best boxy smile, “Sorry, doll, I’ve waited for too long, and I’m not gonna wait another minute.”  

 

He wipes your chin and leans down to give you a kiss. You swerve at the last minute and he ends up falling face first onto the floor, ass sticking up in the air. A bark of laughter escapes you before you can stop it, and Taehyung looks absolutely mortified. The blood was rushing to his face so much that you start worrying his head might explode. Clamping your hands on your mouth to try to stifle the laughter, you say through a muffled voice, “I’m so sorry, Taetae. It’s not funny, I know.” But try as you might, you can’t stop the giggles shaking you like an earthquake; the sight in front of you too absurd for you to take it seriously. Your best friend since childhood was laying in an awkward position on the floor of your shared apartment, his cock still out, moments after you just gave him a blowjob.

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Mercy - Jughead x Reader - request

Jughead x Reader

Masterlist

@idle-lanes @sgarrett49

Anonymous said: Can I request a jughead x reader based on the song Treat You Better? Where the reader is in an abusive relationship or something and jughead is in love with her?

A/N: Okay so because I’m old (not that old but up there for Tumblr surely), I could not have told you this was a Shawn Mendes song let alone who he was before this request. I am REALLY not a top 40 person (never have been) so hopefully I did your request justice. Lol I’m sorry I don’t know what teenagers listen to…anyway thanks for the request and I hope you guys like it.


I won’t lie to you
I know he’s just not right for you
And you can tell me if I’m off
But I see it on your face
When you say that he’s the one that you want
And you’re spending all your time
In this wrong situation
And anytime you want it to stop

I saw her face as he left the diner. The sheer terror in her eyes as his anger made him leave. In the course of several months, she seemed weaker. A shadow or a remnant of the person she used to be.

She used to glide through the hallways so easily. A smile to Betty or to those who she would consider friends. Every once in a while I would catch a glance and she’d become a little bashful. I honestly would as well. Sometimes she would sit at our table at lunch as she was friends with both Betty and Veronica. She seemed to like my sarcasm and laughed at my jokes. Honestly it was hard not to love her laugh. A few times she would join us at Pop’s and it seemed difficult for both of us to tear our eyes from each other.

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Never Let a Wound Ruin Me

this was a request but the ask posted weird so i’m posting it here but anyway this is a fluffly jamilton oneshot based on @midnigtartist battle buddies au in which Alex and Thomas discuss Alex’s scars

word count: 1.5k 


“Are you ever gonna tell me how you got all those scars?”

Alex paused buttoning up his shirt to look at Thomas in consideration. He was used to his lovers asking about his scars. Generally during a one night stand there is a moment in which his shirt comes off and whoever he’s with sees the scars and it’s a second in which they take it in and decide to comment on it. Some people ignore it. Some people are into it.

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poursuislesetolies  asked:

omg #44 and Fitz Simmons for the asks thing please!!!!! I adore your writing btw ur fab

44) things you said before you kissed me

i.

He has only just stumbled back into the base’s main hallway, locking the door securely behind him even though he knows there is little chance any of Hive’s minions having followed him that way, when he sees her turn the corner.

Jemma’s hair is flying out behind her as she runs, her face white and pinched, and Fitz barely has the time to bat away the lab techs trying to talk to him before she reaches him. When she does, she all but flings herself at him, her feet leaving the ground and her arms winding tightly around his neck.

His hands still shaking slightly, it takes all of Fitz’s concentration not to drop her and he staggers backwards to lean against the wall, supporting both their weights. He can feel the agents around them quickly disperse, and he is grateful for that, especially as he can feel relieved tears start to prick behind his closed eyes.

After a few more moments, Jemma lifts her head and slides to the floor, relieving the ache in his arms. Carefully, she brings both her hands up and holds them on either side of his face, her thumbs stroking over his cheeks. When he looks in her eyes and sees the all-encompassing terror still shining there, Fitz wants to pull her in close again and never let go.

‘I don’t want to lose you,’ she says, her voice thick with tears. ‘Not like that.’

He shakes his head, and reaches out for her. Jemma falls into him with a sob, pressing her face into his chest. Feeling the beat of her frantic heart start to slow, Fitz takes a deep breath to try and calm his own.

‘You’re not going to lose me,’ he replies fiercely. ‘Not at all.’

He feels Jemma nod against him, and she gives a shuddering sigh as her grip on the back of his jacket tightens.

She kisses him hard, her lips hot and tasting of salt, and to Fitz it feels like the searing burn of a covenant.

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