and we kissed so nothing could fall not even us my love

december 31st, 2015, 10:23 pm: i saw you for the first time. you were talking to a girl and i could tell that you were capturing her with every syllable that left your mouth. and i knew why: you were beautiful and bright, and i was drawn to you even then, like the planets are drawn to the sun.

december 31st, 2015, 11:58 pm: we met standing in line for the bathroom. you introduced yourself, and asked for my name, smiling when i gave it. “lovely,” you murmured, and repeated it a few more times, rolling the letters around in your mouth like a new food.

january 1st, 2016, 12:05 am: i could still feel you on me, your lips, minutes, hours, months later. the clock had struck midnight and you just grabbed me, didn’t ask if it was okay until it was over. you were laughing, brushing it off, all teeth and well-kissed lips, but i knew i saw you blushing. 

january 21st, 2016, 1:12 pm: you got my number through the mutual friend that threw the party. i still don’t know how you got my address. i didn’t remember telling you. you couldn’t tell me, either.

february 14th, 2016, 9:12 pm: you took me out to dinner and bought me chocolate and roses. it was all so cliche, and i loved every second of it. when you kissed me good night, i swore i could feel the rest of my life, pressed right up against my lips.

february 26th, 2016, 11:33 pm: we made it official. i remember how you asked me, how shy you got, like you didn’t know what the answer would be.

march 17th, 2016, 5:43 pm: we spent the day at the saint patrick’s day parade, and you filled yourself with beer and kissed me hard against the bar bathroom door. i drove you home and that was the first time you told me you loved me.

march 18th, 2016, 9:24 am: you called me and told me you loved me again. “i want to make sure that you know i still mean it when i’m sober,” you said.

march 24th, 2016, 1:09 pm: i met your parents at easter brunch. you had demanded i come with you, and i was glad i did. your mother was kind and beautiful, and your father was warm and handsome, just like i knew they’d be. after we’d eaten, your mother got me alone. “he’s never brought a girl home before,” she told me, “normally he isn’t very open about who he’s dating. but you, you’re different. don’t read into this, but i think he may really think you’re special.”

april 12th, 2016, 8:31 pm: you saw me naked for the first time, and you kissed every inch of my skin. i’d never felt that much love from anybody before that night, and i haven’t since. not even you could replicate those few hours.

may 5th, 2016, 4:57 pm: we fought for the first time. i ran into my ex at the grocery store and wanted to chat for a few minutes. you didn’t. when we got in the car, you told me that if i was still in love with somebody else i could just leave, and i told you that you should trust me and not be so insecure about our relationship. we screamed the whole way home and you slammed the car door when i dropped you off. i almost crashed three times on the drive home.

may 6th, 2016, 8:03 am: you came by with flowers and breakfast. “I’m sorry,” you told me, “you just mean so much to me, and the thought of you ever being anyone else’s makes me sick.” i smiled, “but you don’t have to worry about that now. i’m yours.”

june 16th, 2016, 10:51 pm: for my birthday you took me out to dinner and gave me a beautiful necklace with a silver chain and pearl pendant. we drank expensive wine and stumbled back to my place and fucked. i had never been fucked before, not like this. i woke up the next morning with bite marks on my neck and hickeys all the way down my stomach, but you were gone. “had to run,” you’d written on a post it note, “i love you.”

june 18th, 2016, 2: 41 pm: i hadn’t seen you since my birthday and you weren’t picking up when i’d call.

june 19th, 2016, 3:13 am: “ had to run,” the post it note had said. maybe you were running from me. i couldn’t tell if it was the 3 am darkness talking or the part of me that already knew.

july 1st, 2016, 4:01 am: i looked over at you, sleeping in the darkness beside me. when we were together, things felt perfectly normal. but now, i could feel the shifts. “are we falling apart?” i whispered to you, and although i hadn’t expected an answer, the silence broke my heart all the same.

july 4th, 2016, 6:47 pm: we were at a barbecue and i saw you across the crowd, talking to a girl. i saw the way she was drinking up every word that escaped from between your lips, and that’s when i knew. that’s when i knew you weren’t mine anymore.
july 21st, 2016, 7:08 pm: i brought it up to you. “i think we’re starting to grow apart,” i said, “there’s a distance between us that wasn’t here before.” you reassured me that it was all in my head, but i didn’t hear it in your voice. i didn’t see it in your eyes. you knew it was there, too, but unlike me, you weren’t trying to do anything to stop it.

august 10th, 2016, 11:37 pm: i lay awake and thought about what your mother said, all these months later. “don’t read into this.” but of course i did. i couldn’t help myself. fuck, i loved you so much.
august 15th, 2016, 1:12 pm: you invited me over and i discovered that the key you’d given me no longer worked. “i had the locks changed,” you said, “i’ll get you a new one.” it was a lie, and i knew it. you didn’t get me a new key.

september 8th, 2016, 2:00 pm: i caught you cheating. in a desperate attempt to revive the romance we’d had at the beginning of our relationship, i bought dinner and brought it to your place. when you finally opened the door, i saw it written all over your face; the way your eyes widened, the way your jaw dropped, the way your cheeks drained of color. i heard it in the stammer of your voice, the sharp intake of your breath, the grinding of your teeth. when the girl walked up behind you, half naked, asking who it was at the door, i already knew. “how could you?” i whispered, and you just opened and closed your mouth. the girl pieced it together and started screaming. she hadn’t known. i left the food at the doorstep.

september 10th, 2016, 1:49 am: you never called after that, never came by, never reached out, but it wasn’t like we’d needed to confirm anything. i knew it was over, but it took every ounce of willpower i had not to go back to your place and find out why, why everything.

september 27th, 2016, 6:20 pm: i kept finding myself huddled in a ball; in my bedroom, in my kitchen, in my shower. not crying, or yelling. just huddled, clutching my body close to myself, staring. still not understanding.

october 31st 2016, 9:01 pm: i spent halloween haunted by the ghost of you. your face was around every corner. i could still feel your touch trickling down my spine. that night, i lost it. the anger surged through the sadness and bubbled to the surface. i screamed until my throat was raw, screamed at nothing, about nothing, for no reason other than i was too full.

november 10th, 2016, 2:17 am: you called me when you were drunk and i answered. i listened to you ramble, vomiting up apology after apology. near the end, you told me you loved me. “call me tomorrow when you’re sober if you still love me,” i said.  you didn’t. 

november 25th, 2016, 7:15 pm: i went out on a date with somebody new. they didn’t pull me in like you did, but for a few hours, i forgot about you and i felt okay. i drank myself to sleep that night so i wouldn’t have to think about you. the next morning, the hangover hurt more than you did. it was a start.

december 24th, 2016, 8:12 pm: i was spending christmas with my family, and i was doing great until my aunt asked about you. i told her you cheated, but i was doing okay, and then i excused myself and threw up the appetizers into the toilet. i called you then, and when you picked up, i let out a sob. “you ruined me, you fuck,” i croaked, “and you can’t even apologize. not when you’re sober, at least.” there were a few seconds of silence, and then you hung up. i still hope that it ruined your christmas.

december 31st, 2016, 10:23 pm: i saw you for the first time in months across the crowd. it made me sick to know that even after all that had happened, you were still the most beautiful person in the room to me.

december 31st, 2016, 11:55 pm: you found me in the kitchen. “i wanted to tell you i’m sorry,” you yelled over the music, “and i miss you.” and in those final moments of the year, i thought about it. i thought about letting you back in. the countdown started, and you moved closer to me. and i.. i pushed you away. i turned away from you and said, “no. i can’t.” and i walked out of the room.

january 1st, 2017, 12:05 am: i have forgotten how you felt against me, your lips. and for the first time, i am finally okay with that.

—  a year in review -c.h. // instagram: @evanescent.love (via @poeticaffinity)
Victor’s Bad Days...

Yuuri will easily come right out and say it.

Some days, Yuuri Katsuki does not want to get up. He doesn’t want to exist, he wants to disappear and never be seen again no matter how wonderful his life may end up. People close to him have known about his anxiety episodes for years. The closest of those people know how to deal with it; when to give him space and when to support him.
He’s satisfied with that group and knows how to cope on his own, accepting that those bad days do not define him. Everyone deserves to take time off sometimes to just breathe…

Everyone, Victor thinks, except himself.

He won’t admit it to anyone, even himself, that a Living Legend can have bad days.

When those days would come before, he’d shut his mind off and focus solely on his skating career. It’s not like he was close enough to anyone for them to notice that something may have been “off”; all his rink mates saw him as a man married to the sport and considered his aloof behavior normal. Little did they know how often Victor wished someone, anyone, would just tell him that he’s not okay and that that fact was okay.

The only person who undoubtedly can see right through him is Yuuri Katsuki, and he always knows when he’s having one of those days. It can be frustrating for someone so used to being alone, but he’s learning to accept the concern and open up a little more when he feels depressed.

Still, it’s difficult, and he almost always denies the real problem.

Keep reading

💫 MAY FICS 💫

» A Collection of Near-Death Experiences by somethingaboutamoose

Keith was twelve years old when he was involved in a car accident with his family. After the near-death experience, Keith has found out something about himself: He can’t die.

» all we have to do by aknightley

Keith gets hurt during a mission, and Lance is not sure how to handle that.

» between stars by NotRover

After years of fighting on opposite sides of the war, Lance and Keith meet once again on the battlefield.

» blue, blue eyes by albino_yeti

What would you do
if you ever knew
the man you desperately love
never thinks the same of you?

» Bottom Of The Ninth by xfulcrumx

Lance is the new pitcher for The Lions. Coran’s goal for the season is to make their rival team, The Galrans, beg for mercy. Somewhere along the way, Klance happens.

» Carpe Diems and Chrysanthemums by Gigapoodle

After years of rivalry, bitter acquaintanceship, and eventual friendship, the realization slaps Lance hard, hard enough to settle into his lungs and sap his life away. It’s when he coughs up a petal that Lance realizes just how far gone he is.

» close to you by solllys

they’re in love with each other; that’s how these things go

» Confinement Of Pain by NightcoreFairy

“During the day we were mere rivals.”

“And during the night?”

“During the night, he was the love of my life.”

» Control by ver_ironica

Keith is desperate to keep up appearances, but things are getting harder. He has to lead Voltron while keeping himself in check. His control is reaching the breaking point, and there may be no turning back.

» Crowd Pleaser by WhatTheBodyGraspsNot

It’s a male strip club, which means Keith’s never short of entertainment during working hours - especially when Blue Rider takes the stage. Because Blue’s hot - definitely talented - and definitely taking an interest in Keith.

» excelsior by warmth

“Onward and upward,” Lance says. “to greater glory.”

» Going Under by sun_stricken

Lance takes a dangerous spill in the ocean and is saved by none other than a mermaid with weird hair

» Hershey’s Kisses by EnglishCivilWar

In which Keith is sad, and Lance tries to cook.

» i think you’re fine you really blow my mind by keithxlance

Five times Lance uses pick-up lines and one time Keith decides to try it out as well.

» I Watched the Sky and the Stars Reminded Me of You by beckkai

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing. I’m just.” He looked back at the rising moon and expanse of sky before setting Keith with a soft glare,”Nothing.”

» Like Fire by PastelClark

By circumstance and happenstance, Red finds herself in situations requiring she change paladins twice in her life

» Moonset Deep by MilkTeaMiku

All his life he’d been told to make sure he was never seen – it was what all the children were taught from the moment they were born. Never let a human see you, never fall in love with a human, and most importantly, never kiss one.

» Never Let Me Go by doodlenauts

When the music stops, he meets him halfway - even when they’re thousands of millions of miles apart.

» Nothing Like the Rain When You’re In Outer Space by Wayward_child

Lance misses the rain.

» oblivious to what made you so obvious by altruisticallura

He looked up suddenly, as if he could feel Lance’s eyes on him, and gave a small grin. Lance was a goner.

» Panacea (A Cure for Love) by RowenaMacLeod

Keith contracts an alien disease that wipes your mind of the one you love.

» Reach out for you (break these walls) by Utsukushin

Keith is trying to make himself smaller, to bury his head deeper in his knees, and Lance’s heart freezes in his chest. 

» solace in the thrum of your heart by laidellennt

Lance cannot find solace in the stars.

» Somebody Left The Gate Open by lordbatty

Lance always knew he would have to be the one to pick Keith back up. And he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

» suave and charming as heck by Lance_WhyUAlwaysLion

Lance is neither suave nor charming. Or, Lance thinks he’s a pro at flirting until suddenly, he’s the one getting flirted with.

» Sung Me Moonstruck by sciencefictioness

Something hungry within him that was only sated by the sound of Lance’s voice, or the sight of those too deep eyes cutting sideways to look at him. Something wild that only calmed when he was near.

Something broken in Keith that was held together with that crooked grin.

» symbolization by bolbessa

Keith didn’t really do flowers. He just couldn’t take care of them, and to be completely honest, he didn’t see the point.

» teeth and all by viscrael

“Do you want to kiss someone?”

Keith almost drops his Bayard.

» the sea pronounces something by legendarydesvender

AU where Keith is a sailor and Lance is the siren trying to drown him.

» The Whirling Ways Of Stars That Pass by mandaloore

“There,” he spoke in an almost-whisper, tracing the outline of the imaginary constellation like a child following a dot-to-dot illustration. Keith watched his movements from his peripheral vision, hoping that Lance was too preoccupied to notice the rapid beating of his heart. “Can you see it now?”

» Waves Amongst Stardust by Resamille

The flutter of Lance’s heart is almost lost to the homesickness pounding through his veins.
Almost.

Keep reading

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

Masterlist linked in bio


If there’s one thing Y/n can’t stand, it’s pity. Which is unfortunate for her, considering that’s all she’s been receiving ever since Harry had broken up with her.

Between her family, her friends, and long-known acquaintances, the pity was never ending. The looks people gave her whenever she occupied a room made her sick to her stomach. Nobody looked at her the way they used to as if their perception of her has been altered from a beautiful, humble woman to a broken heart on legs.

Talking to people didn’t help much, either, considering their irrational fear that one harsh tone could wreck what’s left of her. To those, her identity and name have seemed to be forgotten, only to be replaced by “the girl left with a broken heart, who’s heart has failed to mend.”

It’s all a myth, really—a myth that hasn’t been confirmed or denied within the past four months. Y/n provided no reassurance for anybody, nor did she show any improvement since their break up. But she did try her best. Her attempts to answer the question, “how have you been, you know, since the breakup and all?” with an “I’ve been okay” filled with lies didn’t go unnoticed, however, proved to be unsuccessful.

And the pity only got worse when Harry got a new girlfriend.

It was plastered everywhere, the rumors that Harry’s new girlfriend stayed at his hotel in Los Angeles and traveled with him back to London. They disclosed that her name was Jessica, who works as a travel blogger.

She was beautiful, too. More beautiful than she wanted her to be, as selfish as it was. She was the perfect image for him, especially at the height of his career.

Y/n’s heart hit rock bottom that day. Every unblemished part of it became a ruin, a shattered piece of what was once so full and whole.

Y/n hadn’t expected it, not this fast, at least. When Harry initiated the breakup, he told her that it wasn’t the end of their relationship. He had promised her that with the right amount of distance, all the problems they’ve had in their relationship would be fixed entirely.

She believed him, too. That with maybe some time apart, their bitterness towards each other would decease, and all that would remain would be the overwhelming needs for one another.

She should have never been so gullible. After they broke up, they never spoke to each other again. All their ties had been cut, leaving them both hanging in completely separate lives. Y/n never got over him. How could she? They were soulmates, they were each other’s everything. No matter what came at them, they always found a way back to one another.

But Harry’s fame started skyrocketing, leaving Y/n on the ground with no way to reach him anymore. She should have known he’d find someone else—someone more worthy of his time. She just didn’t want to believe it and didn’t want to believe that it had happened so soon.

“How are you feeling?” Gabby asks, reaching over the wooden table so that her fingers can rest on top of Y/n’s hand; a small gesture that Gabby has been giving Y/n nearly every day for the past four months.

Y/n wishes she found it as comfortable as it intended to be, however she can’t help feeling worse whenever Gabby did so. The gesture undoubtedly derives from the pity Gabby has had toward her ever since the breakup. Everything was because of pity.

She looks down at her cold, untouched hot chocolate as she swirls the straw along the brim, resisting to roll her eyes as it’s the only question everybody has seemed to ask her recently.

“The usual,” she shrugs, “nothing’s really changed.”

Gabby gives her a half smile before returning to her tea. The cafe is only occupied by the both of them, considering it’s 7 in the morning on a Sunday. But after everything that’s happened, Y/n’s sleep schedule has been slacking and Gabby wanted nothing more than to be there for Y/n whenever she had the chance.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Gabby asks. “It’s on me if you want anything.”

Y/n shrugs again, a faint yawn falling from her mouth as she shakes her head.

“No, I’m okay. I think I’ll make some waffles when I get home. But I’ll need to stop at the grocery store before I leave. Ran out of milk and flour the other day.”

“We could stop by now if you’d like. I’m getting quite full, anyways.”

“Yeah, sure” Y/n nods, “sounds fine.”


The entrance doors chime when Y/n and Gabby enter the grocery store, barely any people filling the aisles at such hours. Neither of them speak much before they go their separate ways, grabbing all the necessary ingredients Y/n needs for when she gets home.

When she finds flour on one of the bottom shelves, Y/n bends down to grab the cheapest one she could find. In all honesty, she didn’t have a lot of money to spend since she took some time off of work for “mental health reasons,” and she wanted nothing more than to go back home and spend the rest of her day in bed.

When she stands back up from her squatting position, her body rams into somebody else’s, making everything they both were carrying fall onto the floor.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Y/n gasps, scrambling to pick up the ingredients that have fallen from the girl’s arms.

When Y/n stands back up to return her fallen items, it was as if every nightmare Y/n has ever had was standing right in front of her.

She’d recognize her face anywhere. It haunted her everywhere she went; mocking her and destroying every last bit of her wellbeing. Her face is unforgettable, having been ingrained into her head for so long now. She’s exactly how she is in her pictures, except she’s so much more beautiful in person.

It’s when Y/n’s eyes drift down to the shirt she’s wearing that takes the breath right from her lungs.

The word Lover printed inside of a red heart, the end of it hidden by the pocket right on her chest. It looked so unfamiliar on her—so unfamiliar that tears started piling in her eyes and her lips began to quiver.

That shirt was theirs. That shirt belonged to Y/n and Harry.

Lover.

It was a nickname Y/n always gave Harry. She would have normally settled for “babe” or “baby” like she did with her previous boyfriends, but “lover” came so naturally to her. It exemplified just how unique and rare their relationship was, too.

Harry had never been called that before, but there was something about it that felt so right. The first time she called him that, he blushed like no other. His cheeks and heart felt so warm, and Y/n wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. But no matter how much she joked about how much he blushed that night, it only made her call him that more.

And the more she said it, the more she realized that there was no other name to describe him.

She gave him the shirt for their first anniversary. She was insecure about it, considering it was the only gift she purchased him that year and wasn’t nearly as expensive as all the gifts Harry had given her. But after all the flowers she received had died months later, after all the chocolate he bought her had been eaten in two nights, after all the in-home spa treatments had been used by the both of them progressively throughout the months, and after all the sex they shared died down by the next morning, the only gift that remained so dearly to their hearts was that goddamn shirt.

The shirt became sentimental to their relationship and was almost used as a keepsake between the two of them. The mornings after making love, Y/n found herself slipping it on before rolling out of bed to make breakfast. Harry fell in love with her tendency to do so and always made sure she knew just how much he loved her for it.

This is my favorite look on you, he’d always say, where the shirt hung loosely from her frame and her skin scattered with the marks from his tongue.

Harry wore the shirt as a tradition, most commonly on their anniversaries or on any specific date that held such significance to their relationship. And every time Y/n saw him wearing it, she found it irresistible to kiss the heart designed right upon his chest.

My lover, she’d say, looks so perfect on you.

She never imagined anybody else in it. Even after they had broken up, she never thought the shirt would be passed down to later relationships Harry had with other women. When she moved out, he kept insisting that she should be the one to take it.


He looked down at the shirt all crinkled in his hands, the last compromise they had to make before Y/n officially moved out of their home. Her suitcases were packed neatly by the front door, the darkened sky from the storm waiting to approach making the house feel colder than it already had turned.

Y/n’s body was slumped against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes red with inevitable tears as they were forced to face the harsh reality of what was to come.

After three years of a relationship neither of them expected to end, Harry had insisted that they take a break from each other. With his career coming to its peak and Y/n spending most of her time in the office, their relationship was going through a rough patch that lasted far too long.

“You paid for this, you know,” Harry whispered, obstructing the silence that seemed to make the air around them thicker and harder to breathe, “this is yours, always has been.”

Y/n shook her head, a few loose tears falling from her face as she did so. In all honesty, she didn’t want to be reminded of it after this. It’s held so much meaning between the two of them throughout a majority of their years being together that she couldn’t stomach the thought of looking at it in her selection of wardrobe. Not when Harry won’t be by her side, not when Harry won’t be apart of her life anymore.

She placed her hand on top of his softly, stroking the knuckles of his clenched fingers with her thumb.

“It was ours. But when it comes down to it, I bought it for you. It was a gift, you should keep it.”

Harry clenched his fingers harsher against the fabric, his quivered lips attempting a small smile as he lifted it to his chest. His thumb traced the heart above the pocket, watching as one of his tears soak into the material.

“It looks better on you anyways.” Y/n tried to laugh through the silent cries, but neither of them had the heart to make light of the situation they were facing.

Harry’s eyes narrowed down at her while a small sigh fell from his lips.

“You know I’d never wear this again, right? Not until we find our way back to each other.”

Y/n’s shaken hands wiped the tears from her cheeks, her lips pursed together to ensure her broken sobs wouldn’t surface until she was alone in her car.

“Yeah, until we find our way back.”

She stood on her toes to reach his cheek, where she tentatively placed a kiss on the flushed skin.

“You’ll always be my lover.”


But looking back at it now, she wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a grocery store, crying pathetically in front of a complete stranger if she had just taken the damn thing.

How could he do this to me?

“Babe, are these eggs alr—“

Harry’s words get caught in his throat when he sees Y/n standing in front of Jessica with tears streaming down her face and cries shaking her body.

At first, his instinct is to reach his hand out to her. But as his eyes follow her tearful gaze to Jessica’s shirt, which is far too large for her frame, but still being worn on her body, the realization hits him that it’s probably the last thing she would want.

He flutters his eyes shut as an unbearable feeling starts to rise in his stomach. This is the most unfortunate time to see Y/n again, and he can’t imagine how much hatred flowing through Y/n’s system as he stands there, cowardly silenced.

Not a word comes out of his mouth. Not even a pathetic stutter of her name, or even a lift of his lips to greet her in the most minimal of ways.

The only thought swirling through Y/n’s mind is how could you not say anything to me? After everything you did, after what I’m witnessing now, how is there not one word to say?

He watches as pain settles in her eyes as she looks at him. It’s as if she’s begging for an explanation, or even an apology he doesn’t really mean. She’s just looking for something, and knowing that she’s not getting anything is taking all the remaining life out of her.  

But he has so much to say. There are so many apologies, so many thoughts all scrambling in his head that everything becomes incoherent. He wants to tell her how sorry he is, and how hard it is to live with himself after all that he’s done to her. He wants to tell her that he never gave her that fucking shirt, that Jessica found it in one of his drawers and put it on while he was still sleeping from the night before. He wants to tell her that it isn’t what it looks like, that it isn’t what everybody thinks this is. But his throat tightens and his tongue suddenly becomes numb, completely preventing him from saying all the things he wishes to say.

“Y/n, is everything alr—”

Gabby halts when she discovers Y/n’s crying body being watched by the very two people that broke her heart. She’s breaking, so evidently breaking and neither one of them are doing anything about it.

“I w—want to go home.” Y/n’s voice cracks, face twisting as Harry still doesn’t find anything to say to her. “Let’s just go home.”

If Gabby hadn’t witnessed her best friend go through so much pain within the last four months, she would have been able to contain all the rage she’s held toward Harry. But something inside of her snaps when she sees the shirt Jessica’s wearing.

“No!” Gabby spits.

Before anybody sees it happening, Gabby slams her fists against Harry’s chest. Jessica begins to scream while Y/n jumps in an attempt to remove Gabby’s wild arms away from him.

Harry doesn’t do anything to defend himself, though, as he allows her to keep swinging her arms at him. All he can think about it how much he deserves it—how much he deserves all of what’s coming at him.

“You’re such a fucking jerk, Harry!” Gabby roars. “You ruined her! Who the fuck do you think you are?!“

“Gab, stop.” Y/n mumbles, finally able to capture her arms.

Gabby squirms as she tries to escape Y/n’s harsh hold on her, but against Y/n’s anger mixed with all her overwhelming emotions, there is no match.

Y/n starts to push Gabby toward the doors, and it takes every bit of strength left in her to not turn around to look at him one last time. 

“You’re her biggest mistake! I hope you know that!”

“Prom was invented just to make girls starve so they can fit in a dress and compete over a stupid title.”

“Uh –” Derek blinks, eyes his sister dubiously, “I’m not a girl?”

Cora huffs. “Whatever.”

In the kitchen Laura bursts out laughing. “Don’t worry.” She yells. “Cora is just jealous she will have to wait five years to go to her own prom.”

“I’m not going!” Cora yells back. “Prom is stupid, I don’t even know why you’re going,” she tells Derek, “it’s not like you know how to have fun.”

Derek raises an eyebrow while Laura just laughs harder. “Oh my god.” Their older sister says. “I stay away for six months and Cora turns into a sassy queen.” She walks into the living room, pretends to wipe at her eyes. “I’m so proud.”

“You two are ridiculous.” Derek says, turning around. “And I’m just going because Erica promised to pay me. With ice cream.” Then he gives Cora a wicked smile. “That I’m not going to share with either of you.”

“You are the worst brother!” Cora yells as he begins to climb the stairs. “And I hope you fall on your ass while trying to dance!”

“Can’t hear you!” Derek’s cell begins to ring. “Too busy getting ready to prom!”

Laura lets out a high-pitched laughter. “I love you two so much.”

Derek shakes his head fondly, closes his bedroom door behind himself just as Cora tells Laura to shut up. “Hey.” He answers the phone, collapsing on his bed. “What’s up?”

“Yo,” Stiles answers, “whatcha doing?”

“Listening to my sisters fight.” He says, snorting when he hears his dad start complaining about all the yelling and ‘no, Cora, I’m not letting you go to prom, you’re thirteen!’. “I’m gonna have to check the trunk of my car tomorrow night.”

Stiles laughs. “She’s not that good.”

“If you keep teaching her, she will be.” Derek blurts out, curses himself mentally when he realizes it came out harsher than he intended.

It’s just – sometimes he can’t help it. He’s known Stiles since they were four, Cora wasn’t even born then, but one day she turned eleven and Stiles became her new favorite person. Stiles couldn’t find it funnier and took Cora as his little apprentice. He even taught her how to cheat on Mario Kart.

He’s never taught Derek that.

Derek rolls his eyes, thinks about his little sister still downstairs pouting and trying to convince their dad that she’s old enough to go out. He shouldn’t be jealous of her, but the thing is – he grew up with two sisters, he knows how to share toys and food, but he doesn’t know how to share Stiles.

Because Stiles is his.

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✰ * º ❛ even more popular text posts ask meme. ❜

‘  my kink is getting some fuckin sleep.  ’
‘  omg here goes your lil crybaby ass.  ’
‘  the beatles wouldn’t even fucking exist if big time rush hadn’t paved the path for them so shut the fuck up.  ’
‘  don’t start buddy. don’t you dare.  ’
‘  gay rights? true, as a gay, i am always right.  ’
‘  not to vent, but: fuck.  ’
‘  the worst pain is to make small talk with someone you once told everything to.  ’
‘  i think i accidentally break my own heart a lot.  ’
‘  sometimes ‘brb’ stands for ‘be ready bitch’ so you have to be careful.  ’
‘  i want to kiss you in a way that makes you not want to kiss anyone else ever again.  ’
‘  shout out to the people who are still friends with me even though i’m a fucking idiot.  ’
‘  it’s safe to assume that at any given moment i want to go back to bed.  ’
‘  i’m a big fan of anything that will help me chill the fuck out.  ’
‘  i don’t go through people’s pictures on their phone cause i wasn’t raised in the jungle.  ’
‘  i think we, as a people, just need to have a glass of water.  ’
‘  i don’t have enough black clothes.  ’
‘  sweetie, i could sleep for ten years and i’d still be tired.  ’
‘  i would sleep so much better with your arms wrapped around me.  ’
‘  me??? tired??? sleepy??? yes, constantly.  ’
‘  i’m pb&j – petty, bitter, and jealous.  ’
‘  the fact that sloths aren’t extinct somehow proves that if you go at your own pace and mind your own fucking business you too can succeed.  ’
‘  i wish i could be the person i want to be, but i’m too tired.  ’
‘  i always look sleep deprived. is that hot?  ’
‘  just because there’s always room for improvement doesn’t mean you’ll never be good enough.  ’
‘  my heart is a soft and sensitive mess.  ’
‘  all i want is a big garden and no responsibilities.  ’
‘  honestly someone not liking beyonce is a deal breaker and not for any political reasons, but just like you’re probably, definitely really boring.  ’
‘  hey guys, i’m a huge fan of genuine love and affection.  ’
‘  now i’m falling asleep and she’s calling a crab and he’s having a smoke and she’s kissing the crab.  ’
‘  i’ve been ever since i heard ‘lonely’ by akon at 9 years-old.  ’
‘  my new years resolution is to stop.  ’
‘  i’m irritated cause i’m not lovable in a romantic soulmate way.  ’
‘  i hate knowing that people that ruined parts of me still live and function like nothing ever happened.  ’
‘  i know i’m cute, but you can remind me.  ’
‘  hey, just wondering, but are you fucking kidding me????  ’
‘  i can’t wait to be in love with someone who is also deepfuck in love with me and we love each other forever n’ ever.  ’
‘  me? clingy? yes. please don’t leave me.  ’
‘  girlfriend application compatibility question: do you keep your depression pile on the bed or on the floor?  ’
‘  anything heart shaped is automatically 200% better. this is a fact.  ’
‘  today’s agenda: screaming into the abyss.  ’
‘  going from ‘today is a good day’ to ‘i hate my life’ takes me approximately 2.6 seconds.  ’
‘  everyone needs to wash their face and go to bed.  ’
‘  i’m worth so much more than the ways i’ve been treated.  ’
‘  hey, can i claim you guys as dependents on my taxes?  ’
‘  i really just ignore phone calls. like leave a message. i don’t check those either but like  ’
‘  i honestly just want to pack my bags and go travel the world and see and explore everything possible.  ’
‘  remember being little and thinking dandelions were fun or a pretty color or something and every adult in an 80 mile radius wouldn’t let you say that without screaming IT’S A WEED.  ’
‘  why did we just accept catdog?  ’
‘  my ‘stay in bed all day’ game’s too strong.  ’
‘  you deserve to be loved without having to hide the parts of yourself that you think are unlovable.  ’
‘  i always forget that i literally don’t owe anyone anything!  ’
‘  i wonder what it feels like to know what the fuck is going on.  ’
‘  honestly… us girls? us women? we always out here, knowin.  ’
‘  would an alien think i’m pretty?  ’
‘  i love boys, but only as a concept.  ’
‘  why do parents get mad when you sleep in all day? like i’m staying out of trouble and i’m not spending your money like what’s the issue here????  ’
‘  i identify as an inconvenience to the world.  ’
‘  i seriously regret telling anyone, anything, ever lmao  ’
‘  dating me is like dating a five year-old. i need all of your attention and i’m cranky if i haven’t had a nap.  ’
‘  i’m literally tired of myself.  ’
‘  don’t introduce me to ur parents unless you plan on marrying me because they’re going to love me and ask about me for the rest of your life lol  ’
‘  what the hell is a straight person? only straight thing i know about is the edge of my beloved sword.  ’
‘  i highly recommend never having feelings.  ’
‘  self care is going into a cornfield at night to get abducted by aliens.  ’
‘  staying up late with another human is such a weird thing like you get this special bond and a what-is-this feeling  ’
‘  do u ever feel like ur not even friends with ur friends?  ’
‘  um no offense but whom’st’ve going to loveth me?  ’
‘  date a girl who fucks everything up.  ’
‘  not all who mcfreakin wander are mcfreakin lost.  ’
‘  i may legally be an adult but don’t be fooled. i have no idea what i’m doing.  ’
‘  a fun and interesting fact about me is that i’m a fucking idiot.  ’
‘  you can start again anytime!  ’
‘  all you can do is learn your lesson. there’s no point in wishing you had did differently. the past is the past.  ’
‘  i can’t believe an angel like me has to suffer so much.  ’
‘  you’re all so obsessed with love and being loved. what about just going to sleep?  ’
‘  i’m smart, but i do dumb shit anyway.  ’
‘  tbh i never deal with my emotions. i just let them ravage my body and then go to bed and then i wake up and do it all over again.  ’
‘  first of all: i don’t know shit, so jot that down.  ’
‘  i’ll just ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯ my way through life.  ’
‘  i’m tired of things costing money.  ’
‘  don’t you hate it when you’re dead inside and run out of apps to refresh?  ’
‘  who cares? do better, move on.  ’
‘  i don’t need a significant other. just a significant income.  ’
‘  appreciation for everyone who’s ever talked to me bc i’m annoying and dumb.  ’
‘  thnks fr th mntl llnss.  ’
‘  what  hasn’t killed me has just made me overly sensitive and defensive.  ’
‘  i don’t know shit ya’ll!!!!! i’m just out here.  ’
‘  binge-watching is great until you run out of the show and have to start watching it weekly like some sort of medieval peasant.  ’
‘  i’m in the wrong realm and i think everyone can tell.  ’
‘  this might come as a shock but I’m Not Feelin too good my dudes.  ’
‘  i’m alive, but only ironically.  ’
‘  there she goes again being over dramatic and by she, i mean me.  ’
‘  do you ever feel like have tried Too Hard to a friend and now you have become That Obnoxious Weirdo?  ’
‘  lgbt: lasagna! garfield’s beloved treat.  ’
‘  my favorite phrase in the english language is ‘i shit you not.’  ’
‘  i’m a real boring bitch! a snoozer!  ’
‘  i honestly look so good lounging in an oversized t-shirt and no pants. when will someone experience the blessing of domestic living w/ me?  ’
‘  you don’t understand how hard it is to take a selfie when you’re ugly.  ’
‘  you son of a mumford!  ’
‘  hi, i’m here to ruin everything.  ’
‘  you can tell a lot about a person by looking at their hands. for example, if it’s a skeleton hand then they’re dead.  ’
‘  the year is 2020 and i am found guilty of treason against the united states for vague blogging that i hate someone and donald trump thought it was about him.  ’
‘  everybody calm down, we’re going to be fine! :))) we’ve weathered worse than this! :) :) :) :) really all this panic just seems like a huge overreaction imho   ’
‘  no beta readers. we publish our crap writing like men.  ’
‘  i need $$$$$ not feelings.  ’
‘  ‘idk imma see’ = i ain’t coming, never was coming, never considered it, never gave it a single thought, only remembered cause you asked again.  ’
‘  oops, i don’t care lol  ’
‘  why girls always crop the halo out of their selfies? stop being so modest. we know the truth.  ’
‘  maurice, you’re not gonna fucking believe this,  ’
‘  i always get told i look like a bitch bc i’m always glaring while i walk, but i’m not glaring, i’m squinting. i have sensitive eyes. they’re watering.  ’
‘  concept: it’s 3 am. candle lit room. a record is spinning. you’re kissing me. we have no worries in the world. we’re warm and content.  ’
‘  i need to go into the forest and scream for an hour and a half.  ’
‘  pls kill all men who yell at girls from cars.  ’
‘  life really isn’t what i expected it to be. less quicksand. almost no quicksand to be honest. lots of metaphorical quicksand tho.  ’
‘  i have a question for u: like are u done… like is it over?  ’
‘  we all have that one person who ruins your day by being alive.  ’
‘  we all have that one person who ruins your day by being alive. for me, it’s myself.  ’
‘  whenever i see police i always try not to act suspicious and fail internally even though i never did anything wrong.  ’
‘  new years resolution: less bitter, more glitter.  ’

my what a guy, gaston!

okay so i know i already did one of these for beauty and the beast (for fuck’s sake shana write about some new fairytales why are you like this) but i listened to sam tsui’s cover of a tale as old as time and OH BOY, OH MY HONEY OH MY DARLING

okay, so in the very early stages of the original beauty and the beast, gaston was an aristocrat. that eventually got scrapped, but oh what if it didn’t

so say gaston is the son of someone very high up in the royalty chain, someone who’s parents are important enough that he spends an awful lot of time at the castle? and our prince adam isn’t really down with this whole ~being a prince~ thing, he’s a brat, like so many other kids are brats (but these kids don’t get turned into beasts by random witches, like i’m sorry but i’ll never not think that beast didn’t get the short end of the stick there) and so he spends the least about of time possible parading about with a crown on his head. he likes going outside, like riding his horses and playing in the woods, and all sorts of other things that make his parents shake their heads and despair at the inability to have another child, because their son is a small disaster.

and here comes gaston, who’s older and more long suffering. gaston in naturally dramatic, okay, he likes being flashy and fun and loud, all the things the son of a noble shouldn’t be. so by the point he meets adam he’s listened to his parents, folded himself up nice and tight into this quiet boy who just doesn’t want any trouble. adam loves trouble. if he can’t find it, he invents it.

so he grabs onto gaston like glue, and gaston is irritated, but he’s the prince, he can’t say anything or his parents will kill him. so he lets adam keep dragging him out horseback riding and hunting and rock climbing and all sorts of things little noble boys aren’t supposed to do. they spare, and no matter that gaston is bigger and older he never wins, adam always ends up pinning him to the ground with his arm to his throat and he’d more irritated about it if the prince didn’t look so delighted every time he won. adam loves all the animals that he’s not interested in eating, and gaston tries to point out that it’s a little weird how thrilled adam is to take down a deer when two minute later he’s trying to entice a wolf to come closer so he can pet it, and also holy shit adam that’s a wolf what’s wrong with you

adam loves his staff, the people who do their best to reign in this little terror but don’t try that hard, because the thing about bratty kids is that they’re rarely brats all the time, as an adult you swing between wanting to strangle them and finding them so adorable and charming your chest hurts. so mrs. potts indulges him, likes the way he’s only ever really patient while he’s playing with her son chip when he’s snuck into the kitchen to beg her for some extra cookies. lumiere and cogsworth are his tutors and spend more time arguing with each other than teaching him, and he’s delighted by that.

and so adam is this loud, exuberant little prince who slowly but surely picks at gaston’s barrier until gaston almost feels like himself again, and adam doesn’t do what his parents did. adam doesn’t make fun of him for how much he cares about his hair, about how he hates dirt under his fingernails. as long as gaston keeps following him into dangerous situations, adam doesn’t care about much of anything, and gaston loves him for it.

and gaston’s on the cusp of teenagerhood when he realizes he loves adam, the prince, this is awful and he immediately has a panic attack over it, he’s to be lord and adam is to be king, it will never work, oh, and adam probably doesn’t like boys, and – oh my god, all those schoolyard taunts about him being gay we’re right this is a nightmare.

he’d freak out about this properly and probably go charging to the castle to confess his love in true embarrassing 12 year old fashion – except his parents set him down, pale, and say, “they’re gone, they’re all gone, the king and queen were found dead and the prince is gone and now a monster lives in the castle.” and of course gaston takes this to the most logical conclusion – a beast broke into the castle, killed the love of his young life, and now he’s claimed the castle for his own.

this is gaston’s defining moment okay, this is the point where he snaps and never goes back. he rebels against his parents, refuses to fit himself back into the mold of the perfect son, tries to live his life like adam would have wanted him to. that means being exactly who he is and damn the consequences. he focuses on his hair and his clothes and his looks, he pursues hunting because it reminds him of adam, because so much of their friendship took place in the woods, covered in mud and laughing. he pursues hunting because, one day, when he’s the very best he’s going to go the castle and kill the beast that killed adam. and his parents are furious about all of this and they disown him in favor of his young siblings and he just. doesn’t give a shit.

so he moves to the town, and everyone loves him, of course they love him. he’s loud and arrogant, but – he’s not cruel. he’s beautiful and brings in more pelts and meat than any other hunter and gaston doesn’t miss the days of being a young lordling in the slightest. but girls keep throwing themselves at him and he doesn’t know how to keep refusing either outing himself or hurting their feelings, so he goes to belle. belle, who is every inch as pretty he is. belle, who is smart and quiet and kind in a reserved sort of way. if there’s anyone who won’t judge him, it’s her.

so he goes to her, and tells her the truth – that he only likes men, that he’s not interested in advertising the fact, and asks her to pretend to be his lady. and belle, kind sweet belle, agrees. she does it out of sense of duty to help those in need, because nothing she knows of gaston says she will enjoy this. but she’s proven wrong, because gaston was raised to be a lord of course he’s educated, just because he doesn’t really care about any of that stuff doesn’t mean he doesn’t know it. and belle can speak with him like she can no other, because gaston has more formal education than anyone else in this village. and to their surprise, gaston and belle become friends, become the closest of friends, and gaston hasn’t known this closeness since adam, although it’s different because he loves belle but he’s not in love with belle.

and one day belle and her father are out traveling and sudden snowstorm forces them into the castle. belle knows there’s some sort of monster that supposedly lives there, but it’s either the castle for refuge or dying of cold outside, so into the castle they go. and instead of a hideous monster there’s adam, the beast. he’s rude and gruff and calls them twelve kinds of idiots for getting caught in a snowstorm in the first place. he offers them a room before sulking back into his study, watching the last petal threaten to the fall from the rose.

the castle is so excited to have guests, to have a young girl that may be their saving grace, and beast doesn’t know how to tell them that he likes girls well enough, but the only person he’s ever loved is a prickly, stuffy little boy who used to wring his hands together whenever they went looking for wolves. the storm doesn’t abate, and belle and her father stay. beast likes belle, likes how much she loves his library and the courteous way she speaks to all his staff even tho they’re all furniture, and he wishes he could love her, she is a woman that deserves to be loved. but he can’t.

back in the village, gaston has had it. the beast took adam from him, and he wont allow that thing to take belle. he rallies the villagers and goes marching to the castle, determined to save belle and her father, determined to kill the thing that killed adam.

so they storm the castle and he and the beast fight. belle and her father rush forward to stop the rest of the angry village men, and belle is screaming at gaston to stop, that things aren’t as they seem. but he’s mad with bloodlust, with revenge, and he’s about to take the beast’s head off with his axe when the beast lunges and pushes him to the ground, pinning him with an arm to his throat. and the muscle memory is so sudden and visceral that gaston freezes and stares at the snarling beast and whispers, “adam?”

and the beast blinks, and pulls back a little, and goes …… “gaston!?”

literally everyone is so confused, but they only get more confused when gaston throws himself at the beast and there’s a rush of magic as the last petal falls and the spell is broken. gaston sees beast for who he really is, loves him wholly and completely in the way only children can, and the curse is broken.

so gaston goes from having the beast in his arms to having a man, and he kisses him, outing himself in front of the whole village and not caring in the slightest. “i’ve missed you,” adam says, reaching out a hand to cup gaston’s cheek.

his staff are people again, and the cloud of darkness that had fallen over the castle is lifted. the old and irritable third cousin twice removed who’d been running the country is more than happy to hand it back over to adam, so happy in fact that he doesn’t question anything about this incredibly weird situation.

gaston and adam were children with a children’s love, but as adam gets his castle and kingdom up and running again, gaston is there. and their love deepens, and strengthens, and becomes something much more real and true than it ever was before. and gaston knows he can’t keep this, that adam will need to take a queen and gaston won’t be able to be with him after that.

except no one told adam that, because he goes to belle who just, never left the castle because she likes it and it likes her and her two favorite people are here. and also they’ll pry her from that library over her dead body. “hey,” adam says, “so, i’m kind of the king now.”

“i noticed,” belle answers, and doesn’t look up from her book.

adam considers closing it, but also considers that he likes his hands attached to his wrists. “want to get married? we’ll need to produce an heir or two, but beyond that you’ll get all the books you want and a whole country to boss around.” one of the things adam had quickly learned was that belle loved bossing people around.

belle doesn’t look up from her book. he hadn’t honestly expected her too. “okay. I’m dating plumette. im going to keep doing that.”

“nice,” he says, because plumette is a lot prettier now that she isn’t a feather duster.

so adam find gaston and tells him that he’s marrying belle, and gaston’s whole heart breaks but it makes sense, adam and belle make sense together, and he wishes he could make himself hate either of them but he can’t because he loves them both. but then adam is talking about how belle will have the rooms next to theirs, and gaston should probably stop paying rent for his house in the village, he lives in a literal palace, come on now.

and gaston figures out that adam is planning to stay with him, that belle is his wife and queen in name only and and gaston will continue to be the one in his heart and in his bed. adam is talking about how they all really need to sit down and do something about the redistribution of tax revenue, and they should probably do it before the wedding because otherwise their subjects will only show up to throw fruit at them. gaston cuts him off by pressing his king and love of his life against the wall and kissing him breathless.

cogsworth and lumiere walk by and pause mid-argument to wolf whistle at them before continuing on their way. gaston and adam end up having to hold each other up as they laugh so hard they can’t breath.

and everyone lives happily ever after.


read more of my retold fairytales here

Play Me // A Dylan O’Brien Smut

Relationship: Dylan O’Brien x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Daddy Kink, Oral (both), Spanking, Teasing, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Unprotected Sex, and Swearing.

Word Count: 4,915

Song: Despacito by Luis Fonsi Ft. Daddy Yankee and Justin Bieber

A/N: This is 100% because of the video that came out. The second I saw him playing the drums again, my mind immediately went to sin. I MEAN FUUUCK LOOK AT THIS GIF PEOPLE, HOW CAN IT NOT? Also, thanks to @stilinski-jpeg for keeping me sane throughout the writing process of this fic. Love you so much! 💖

In case you haven’t seen the video or you want to watch it again on loop if you’re like me. 

Fuck, I moaned internally as I watched him lick his plump lips in pure concentration, an immediate ache already rushing to my core just at the sight of Dylan’s sinful tongue.

His fingers were curled around the drumsticks and his muscles were flexed against his biceps with each movement he made as he played the drums in front of me. It took every piece of discipline I had in me to continue playing my saxophone and not toss it on the ground just to throw myself at him. Dylan had such an effect on me that I was constantly turned on whenever I was around him — and he doesn’t even have to do much to get me worked up. Just the way he is can get me easily horny alone.

It all started the night we first created this blues band. He was the drummer we recruited along with his friends Thomas and Dexter for strings and vocals. The three were undoubtedly talented and the perfect additions to our band, but Dylan… he was the perfect addition to my body. That first night the entire band partied to celebrate the arrivals and drinks were the main theme. One thing led to the other and, the next thing I knew, I was rushed into the nearest bathroom and being pushed up against the closed door. Dylan’s calloused hands gripping my leg and hitching it across his waist as he pounds into me mercilessly, fucking me so hard that I couldn’t walk the next day.

His eyes looked up at me for the slightest second and I could see the small smirk dangling from the corner of his lips, my breath hitching in my throat and disrupting my saxophone playing. Dylan noticed the way his smirk made me feel the need to press my thighs together and decided to play even dirtier by winking. I immediately moaned which came out as a strangled note from my instrument. The entire band looked at me with judgemental eyes at my horrid playing, but I was too busy focusing on Dylan chuckling lowly to himself.

“Alright!” I frustratedly shouted, surprising everyone in the studio. “Can we just please take a break from jamming right now? We’ve been at this for hours!”

Our vocalist shrugged carelessly and looked to his fellow bandmates, all shrugging as well before Tommy spoke up. “I guess we should. Maybe we can get something to eat?”

“Yes!” Dexter sat up from his stool, smacking his hands together. “Let’s go to that restaurant we had dinner at yesterday! They had the fucking best chicken fried rice.”

Everyone else agreed, each sharing the food they desperately wanted to eat there again. Well, all except for Dylan and I who were too busy staring at one another, lust burning our pupils to the point of no return. His eyes dipped for the slightest second to rake all over my body, gazing at the low-cut in my crop top before his eyes returned to mine with a cocky grin now invading his pink lips.

“You know, I think we should play our song one more time.” Dylan spoke up, his eyes never leaving me. My own narrowed, immediately understanding how much he still wanted to tease me. “To get it perfect before we officially record it.”

Again, everyone shrugged and agreed with his suggestion. Usually, I love how open they all are for anything but not today, not when I desperately want to feel Dylan’s dick twitching inside of me again as it quickly rubs against my tight walls.

“No, I think we should eat.” I counterparted, pulling the strap of the saxophone off my neck and placing the instrument in its case. “We need the break.”

“Maybe you need the break, kitten.” He raised an eyebrow tauntingly. “I mean, you do seem tense. What’s gotten you all worked up?”

The glare I gave him was nothing short of intense and full of raging fire. He and I both knew what he was doing, especially since he used that damn nickname that did inexplicable things to me. The entire band’s eyes were fixed on me and Dylan used the opportunity to run his fingers over his scruff as he winked yet again, fully aware of his power against me.

Fine then, two can play at this game.

“Having to constantly blow.” I retorted and it was my turn to smirk when his eyes widened. “The instrument, I mean.”

“Well I think you blow just perfectly.”

I was certainly glad that everyone else in the room was terrible at picking up on our innuendos and the incredibly strong sexual tension between Dylan and I. We haven’t exactly told anyone about us yet — mainly because we don’t even know if there is an us. We’ve been hooking up whenever it was convenient but with Dylan’s crazy schedule, it’s been pretty hard to maintain a physical relationship let alone possibly start an emotional one.

“Just one more?” Dylan teased and my mind immediately went to all of the times I begged him to quit pleasuring me when I was already so overstimulated, but he just kept going at it. “And then, I’ll- we’ll stop.”

“Just. One. More.” I stated through clenched teeth.

Picking up my instrument again, Dylan’s eyes were hooked on me as I licked my lips and wrapped them around the tip of my saxophone. The rest of the band members prepared themselves again and Dylan tapped his drumsticks three times to indicate the starting tempo. As soon as he was finished, we were all off and the song started playing beautifully. Despite not missing and mistaking a single note, Dylan and I focused on each other instead of our instruments. The walls of the studio were shaking at how loudly he was playing, each bang vibrating through the floor and into my body. It only made the aching in my core grow even more uncomfortable as it vibrated my cunt, forcing me to hold back any moan I wanted to release.

I watched as his head nodded along with the rhythm he created, his knees bouncing up and down as his feet continuously slammed on the bass pedal to carry the entire beat of the song. I hated to admit it, but our music would be nothing without Dylan’s talented drum skills. He was undoubtedly enjoying himself, the melody completing taking over his body… except for the eyes boring into mine that is.

Fuck, it should be illegal to look that fucking good playing the drums.

I thanked the Lord when the song was finally over and I managed to play every single note without letting Dylan distract me, despite almost falling prey to him many times. He put the drumsticks down on the floor and picked up the green bottle of beer from it instead, his lips pouting as he took a long sip. I was practically drooling at the sight of his adam’s apple moving up and down as he swallowed the bitter liquid. Everyone else, including me, put their instruments away for the time being.

“Time for grub!” Dexter celebrated and the entire room boomed with laughter at his excitement for food. Normally, I would be right there with him but at this moment all I could truly focus on were the way Dylan’s eyes were calling me.

“You guys go ahead.” Dylan stated, standing up. “I think I’d rather eat Chipotle.”

“You sure?” Tommy asked, everybody already at the door. “You should come eat with us so you’re not alone.”

“He won’t be alone. I’ll go with him.” I spoke up, clearing my throat. “Gotta have those delicious chicken cutlets.”

“Suit yourselves.” He shrugged, guiding everyone out of the studio and closing its door behind them.

It was as if the second that door sealed shut, every bit of sexual tension we were trying to keep to ourselves was released out into the air. Just the thought of what was undeniably about to happen next made my pulse accelerate, my heart pounding against my chest. I wasn’t the only one effected as I watched Dylan take slow steps towards me as if I were a magnet pulling him in closer and closer. He was practically undressing me with his eyes and usually I would blush at such a forward act, but now right now. Right now, all I want him to do is give into the lustful things his eyes are telling me.

“So,” I broke the silence, my breath unstable as he finally reached me and placed his hand on the small of my back. His lips brushing against my neck, making goosebumps cover my skin. “How about we go eat take out?”

“No, kitten.” He whispered, my body shivering at the feeling of his lips touching my ear. “I’d rather eat you out, instead.”

Dylan’s mouth immediately moved to mine and he crashed his lips against my own. I couldn’t help but moan into our sudden kiss, throwing my arms around his neck. His skillful lips meshed with mine in such a fiery and passionate pace, he almost made me lose my balance. My hands didn’t just remain on his neck as he successfully seduces me, but ventured over his back and explored the amazing feeling of his flexed muscles pressed against my palm. Our breaths mingled before Dylan licked my bottom lip with his tongue and I instinctively opened it for his tongue to have its very welcome entrance. I could taste the alcohol in his mouth along with the mint from his toothpaste and all of my senses were heightened, begging for more of him.

I broke the kiss, but he chose to continue teasing me as his lips moved to my jaw then my neck. Not even bothering to hide the fact that he was currently creating a purple bruise on my skin with his smooth assaults. My fingers gripped onto his back, my nails digging into our band’s t-shirt. He chuckled on my neck and I instantly whimpered at the resonance.

“Please, I have been unbelievably horny since the moment you walked through that door today.” I moaned. “Just fucking do something already.”

“Patience, kitten.” Dylan retorted, his fingers moving to the hem of my high-waisted skirt just to tease me. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Not when their friends will be back soon.” I mewled.

“Honestly, they could walk in on us fucking and I wouldn’t even stop.” Dylan nibbled on my ear. “Now, kitten, tell me all of the things you want my mouth to do to you. Teach me your favorite places.”

“You already know my favorite places, Dylan.” I responded and definitely didn’t miss the cocky grin he played on my skin.

“Just because of that impeccable response I’ll give you want you want, babygirl.” He whispered huskily before moving his hands to the back of my knees and lifting me up.

This time I was the one who started the desperate kiss as he walked forwards, my back suddenly hitting the wall behind me. I lost my rhythm with his lips and failed to remain the dominant one when his hands massaged the back of my thighs, sparking more desire throughout my entire body. Just as I was about to try and get my power back, Dylan unexpectedly broke our kiss. Our panting breaths hitting each other’s faces before he started to push me up. I looked at him with wide eyes, but allowed him to do whatever it is he’s planning to do. The next thing I know, I’m so high up that he wraps my legs around his neck.

With my legs dangling over his shoulders, Dylan moved one of his hands to my inner thigh and purposely drummed his fingers on my skin before reached the area closest to my core. I bucked my hips for him to do more and, to my surprise, he actually did. Dylan suddenly ripped apart the thong I wore and felt no remorse towards ruining something I owned, and, honestly, neither did I. I was so glad there finally wasn’t anything keeping him from touching me anymore that I didn’t even bother to think about the consequences.

“Fuck, you weren’t kidding about how horny you are.” Dylan chuckled, certainly staring at the arousal covering my cunt. My hips twitched the second his finger swiped through my slick folds and a shameless moan fell from my lips when he licked his wet finger with his tempting tongue. “God, kitten, you always taste so damn good.”

“P-Please.” I begged.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Dylan smirked, nibbling my outer lips. “I know that I’m a drummer and I’m good with my hands, but damn kitten.”

“And I’m a saxophone player, I’m very good with my mouth.” I retorted, raking my fingers through his dark strands. “Which I’ll gladly use on you if you just give me what I want.”

“Well, you certainly have a way with words, babygirl.” He stated before finally doing what I wanted him to by swiping his tongue up my core, my vocal chords releasing the most animalistic moan the second the tip of his tongue touched my clitoris. “Damn, you sing the second I touch you.” He chuckled. “Kinda like playing the piano.”

“Then, play me.”

The last thing I saw was Dylan’s pupils dilate just before he dipped his head under the fabric of my skirt along with his hand and began his mind-boggling pleasure on my core. His tongue created fast and steady circles on my sensitive nub, immediate pleasure striking through my veins. However, my body buzzed intensely the moment he pushed a finger into my soaking heat and pumped it repeatedly. My eyes instantly shut tight and chose to only focus on the feelings he was creating inside of me.

I squirmed and my hips bucked involuntarily, my own fingers clutching onto his hair. He grunted at the harsh feeling and my lungs immediately gasped when the vibration of his voice rippled through my core and initiated the build up now invading me. I could feel my nipples hardening against the cheap fabric of my bra and I desperately wanted to pinch them in between my fingers — which is exactly what I did after I let go of him to rip apart my blouse along with my laced bra. Dylan couldn’t exactly see what I had just done, but he definitely put two and two together at the sound of the tearing fabric and didn’t hold back his moan. Letting what remained of my shirt and bra fall to the ground and playing with my nipples in my fingers, I felt as Dylan added another one of his in me. He increased the pressure and the pace, giving more power to my build up.

“F-Fuck, baby.” I moaned audaciously. “Just like that.”

He followed my request and continued moving his two fingers in my tight cunt rapidly, but his lips however wrapped around my clit. His tongue still licked and played with it as well, but now he had added his sinful mouth to the mix. My sensitive nub enjoyed the attention it was getting from Dylan, flashing pure thrill and bliss straight to my build up.

Carefully hearing out how responsive I was being, Dylan decided to do more when he knew I was ready for it. He scissored his two fingers inside of me and I screamed, my body already shaking with its arriving orgasm. Dylan’s addictive movements in my cunt only stopped right when he knew I was going to cum and curled the tips of his fingers against my walls instead, the perfect amount of pressure I needed to fall into my release.

I didn’t expect Dylan to stop as I came, but I certainly did expect him to when I finished. However, he did not halt his actions at all. In fact, Dylan only increased them. His hand removed itself from my core and returned its post on my thigh along with the other one. He pulled back from the wall and my own hands immediately flew to his hair for stability, but I didn’t make it in time. Although his grip on my thighs were incredibly strong enough and wouldn’t let me completely fall, I couldn’t help but squeal when the top half of my body dropped down, by back now resting on his legs.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get more intense, Dylan slipped his tongue into my cunt and I urgently wrapped my arms around the back of his knees. The new position enhanced everything he was doing to me, expanding my pleasure by one-hundred percent. I whimpered and mewled at Dylan’s invasive touch, considering how overstimulated I was. But, he didn’t stop his attempt at giving me more than one consecutive orgasm.

His tongue was deep in me, constantly brushing my g-spot, and he licked around my walls, definitely enjoying my taste by the way he moaned continuously along with me. My back arched and my legs shook again at the feeling of his tongue literally fucking me just as Dylan’s thumb applied unbelievable pressure on my incredibly swollen clitoris. Not only making me reach my orgasm and cum, but literally fucking gush. My immense arousal squirted out of my cunt, certainly soaking his entire face.

This time Dylan did stop, but only when he deemed ready. My core was throbbing intensely as he walked us over to his drumming bench and asked me to place my hands on them for him to pull my legs off of his shoulders and carefully settle them on the floor without the risk of hurting me nor letting me fall. Once he laid my legs on the ground, my butt involuntarily sitting down too, I watched with hooded eyes as he pulled his shirt off his body and used it wipe his face clean.

“Take your skirt off, kitten.” He commanded, unbuttoning his khakis and letting them drop to the floor.

“Yes, daddy.” I bit down on my lip, enjoying the view of him momentarily losing his shit at the nickname just as he stepped out of his pants pooling at his feet.

“Daddy, huh? Just when I thought you couldn’t get any sexier…” He smirked, taking taunting steps towards me. “Now, why don’t you kneel here in front of daddy?”

I didn’t say anything, I just changed my position to settle on my hands and knees and slowly crawled in his direction. The feeling of my skin scraping against the rug burned, but I chose to ignore it. I could see the huge bulge in his grey boxer-briefs create a wet stain with his increasing precum at how the sight turned him on beyond compare and it boosted me to sway my hips more, my confidence growing. Dylan’s hand moved down to his crotch and he slowly palmed himself over the fabric before becoming impatient and pulling down his boxers just enough to start touching himself. Immediate heat and lust rushed back to my core at the way he pumped his own dick, my mouth drooling at his actions.

Once I reached him, I placed my hands on his bare thighs to steady myself as I settled just on my knees, the rug digging into my skin. Our eyes were locked together, my mouth inching closer to his shaft. He didn’t stop masterbating even when I took his tip into my mouth and sucked profusely, his throat making its own strangled noises. My tongue licked the precum off of his slit and Dylan’s hips bucked, involuntarily​ pushing a little more of him inside my mouth. I swatted his hand away and he let both of his hands run through my hair as I took in as much of his cock as I could. Dylan gathered my hair together in a temporary ponytail and whilst my mouth bobbed his dick rapidly, my tongue would constantly graze against his prominent vein on the underside of his member.

“Shit, kitten.” Dylan moaned, bucking his hips faster. “Your talented lips feel so fucking good around my cock. Thank God you’re so invested in playing the saxophone.”

I moaned around his staff and he immediately growled at the intense vibration, his hand gripping tighter in my hair. Impatient with letting me be in control, Dylan pulled my hair back roughly, my head going along with it. Then he, suddenly, pushed my head right back to take him in again deeply — so deeply that his swollen tip lodged in the back of my throat. Dylan created this new pace where he would pull my hair to guide his dick in and out along with his thrusts. The stinging pain on my scalp from his harsh pulling did not overpower the lust inside of me and I willingly allowed Dylan to use my mouth as a damn fucktoy.

“Fuck me, babygirl.” He grunted before unexpectedly pulling me back and not letting me take him in my mouth anymore.

Suddenly, Dylan tore my grip away from his thighs and let my hair go. He took a step back, my palms immediately landing flat out on the floor to keep from falling. The strands of my hair swayed to the front of my face as he stepped out of his boxers and walked behind me. I heard him fall to his own knees and, without any warning, a loud sound of Dylan’s palm slapping against my skin echoed in the room along with the sound of my scream at the stinging pain of just getting spanked.

“God, I fucking love your ass.” Dylan confessed, sinking his teeth into my cheeks and letting go right after another scream escaped my lips.

“Jesus Christ, Dylan.” I grunted, already out of breath. “Just stop teasing and shove your dick inside of me already.”

“Did you just call me Dylan?” He tisked and I could picture him shaking his head. “You know that’s not what I want, babygirl. Which means I won’t give you want you want.”

“N-No, I’m sorry!” I whined. “Daddy, please.”

Dylan surprised me when he pushed just his tip inside of me, my core pulsing around him. However, he stopped teasingly and it drove me absolutely crazy. I tried bucking my hips back, but Dylan just grabbed my waist roughly and halted my attempts.

“Come on, daddy.” I whimpered at the feeling of his dick throbbing. “Just fuck me.”

“Like this?” Dylan asked, slowly pushing in until he was buried to the hilt before pulling back out at the same agonizing pace. He did this a few times and my body begged for more, not able to withstand the slow rate.

“Faster.” I begged impatiently. “You know how I like it rough.”

Dylan moaned at my commands, but continued his vehement torture anyway and I wasn’t having anymore of it. Bringing my hands back, I ripped Dylan’s off my waist and he almost lost his balance at my sudden movement. Pulling his dick out of me, I pushed him to lie down on the rug and threw my legs over his hips to straddle him. Both of my knees settled on the rug and Dylan’s eyes widened at me before they narrowed with a growing smirk.

“Damn-” He began to speak, but my finger flew to his lips and stopped him from continuing his sentence. His eyebrows quirked in curiosity and I simply gave him the most smug grin I could put together.

“I’m in charge now.”

Dylan’s dick twitched in between my thighs at my new confidence and his hands flew to my hips, allowing me to do whatever I damn pleased. I grabbed his shaft before positioning it at my entrance and sitting down on him until I felt his balls on my ass. His head instantly fell back to the ground, his eyes shutting tight. Thanks to how fucking wet I was from just having two orgasms (and counting), it wasn’t hard to glide him in and out of me. Both of our throats erupting into uncontrollable moans and neither one of us had the intention to stop.

My hands were splattered out on his chest, my nails raking down his skin and digging into it as his own fingers gripped my hips tightly to help guide me. I bounced up and down on his cock, the wet sound of skin meeting every time my cheeks came into contact with his balls. Dylan growled lowly whenever my nails created stinging shapes in his flesh. My build up returned stronger than ever, already licking at my veins. Dylan could sense how close I was from how I tightened around his shaft and his eyes opened, a sense of mischief pooling in them.

One of his hands made its way to our repeatedly connecting bodies and everything inside of me jerked the moment his fingers applied rough pleasure on my clit. A flash of heat spread through my body as I screamed, not able to hide how much I loved his addictive advances. However, it was when Dylan sat up and not only changed the angle but pushed me back a little so he could attach his mouth onto my breast that the build up won. My arms wrapped around his neck to keep some sort of balance as my body violently shook with its intense orgasm. I continued to bounce on his dick and Dylan grunted loudly when I clenched around it. His teeth bit my nipple harshly and I screamed, all of my senses dancing on the surface of my skin.

Even as my body fell limp and stopped moving, Dylan didn’t. His hand on my hips wrapped around my waist and elevated my body slightly before thrusting up into me. At this point, I couldn’t even control the overwhelming amount of screams falling from my lips along with his name.

“That’s right, kitten.” He managed to say through moans. “Scream my name and forget every other name that exists. I’m the only one that can fuck you like this.”

I felt that same flash of heat again, followed by another and another as he continued to thrust up into my g-spot, his cock rubbing so fucking deliciously against my tight walls that it made me want to cry. No crashing waves and no build up, this time a violent pleasure tore through me. A whiplash of ecstasy snapping at my clit and spreading everywhere. Dense streams of cum slithered down my legs and I noticed as it soaked him, dripping down his cock, covering his balls and pooling over his thighs.

His fingers changed its pace on my overly sensitive nub and I crashed again, falling deep into the abyss of euphoria. Each climax was unique and when the final one was drawn out of me, I actually cried — like literally. My tears rolled down my flushed cheeks. My lungs hurt at the lack of air. My throat was dry from screaming too much. My lips were raw from the insane amount of kissing and biting down on them. And every joint in my body ached.

When he noticed I couldn’t handle anymore, Dylan pulled himself out and laid me down on the floor. I was completely out of breath and unable to move my body, but I still watched with hooded eyes as he crawled over me. Each of his knees settling beside my shoulders, his hands moving down to my head and grabbing my hair.

“Do you wanna taste daddy’s cum, kitten?” He teased and I immediately nodded. “I’m gonna need you to say it.”

“Yes, daddy.” I spoke up, my hands holding onto the back of his knees. “Fuck my mouth.”

That’s all the incentive he needed to shove his dick into my mouth and I gladly welcomed it back. Dylan used his hand on my head in synch with his thrusts to control how deep he wants to go. Because he was already so close to his edge from constantly feeling my cunt tighten around him, Dylan was already falling off of it in a matter of seconds. It only took a few thrusts and my mouth hollowing out as my tongue constantly licked his sensitive tip. Dylan’s hot release immediately shot out of his slit and landed on my palate, the delicious salty taste of his cum making me moan.

“God, no one can give a blowjob like you, babygirl.” Dylan whispered huskily, laying back down on the floor beside me.

The sexual tension in the air eased down and was replaced with pure bliss, both of our chests rising and falling with heavy breaths. All of a sudden, Dylan turned around and nudged his face amongst my shoulders. Goosebumps making its ways on my skin at the feeling of his hot breath against my neck as he wrapped a lazy arm around my waist.

“What'cha doing there, Dyl?” I asked curiously.

“Breathing in your neck because you always smell so good.” He shrugged.

“Well, I’m just gonna pretend that’s not a weird thing to say.” I chuckled and he laughed with me.

“Sorry.” He smiled, placing a chaste kiss on my skin. “Would you rather I whisper things into your ear so you remember them when you’re not with me?”

“Hmm, that would be nice.” I smiled before it turned into a grin. “But, I’d rather go eat that take out.”

Into You [Side to Side Pt. 2]

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Request(s)(Ooh boy here we go):

  • Wow! I loved your Peter Parker imagine. Pleeaaassseee do more of those because damnnnn
  • side to side is soo perfect akhjjkfjkas im in love pls write another part
  • Park 2 for side to side?
  • Can I please get a continuation to side to side. Please!!! I loved it, could it be the smutty continuation please ❤️ Love your writing BTW

Word Count: 3148… I got carried away with this… Sorry/not sorry

Song: Gee I wonder… Into You by Ariana Grande

Summary: You and Peter work out what happened at the gym in the most sinful way possible… by doing it again. Only this time, you get it right.

Warnings: Sinsinsinsinsin, swearing, oral (both receiving), creepy Flash, idk if there are any warnings that aren’t smut related tbh

Author’s Note: I need to specify apparently, both Peter and the reader are the same age. Nothing illegal is happening in this, don’t hate on me. ALSO! This is my first smut ever. Pass me some holy water, y’all this is some spicy shit.

Keep reading

Harry Fake Dates Kendall but is in Love With You

A/n: This is an updated version of an imagine I’ve previously uploaded. I know Hendall is so 2015. I get it.

Masterlist linked in bio.


The red wine leaves a particular stain on Harry’s lips that he hadn’t noticed until Kendall pointed it out to him.

“It looks like you’re wearing lipstick” she laughs, “I didn’t know you were going to dress up this much for the party.”

They are currently sat at his mum’s kitchen island, drinking red wine while munching on some chips left out for the guests. The house is filled with familiar faces, friends and family all throughout London coming together for Anne’s birthday celebration.

They hosted one every year for as long as Harry could remember, a time of year where nearly every one of his family members, including his step family, would unite. It was their favorite time of year, believe it or not. Despite all the excitement for the holidays, Anne’s birthday celebration was certainly something special.

It was Kendall’s first time attending, considering the fact that Harry had only really talked to her whenever he was assigned to be with her for publicity. It wasn’t always ideal, however, he built a stable friendship with her, so he didn’t mind the extra company with him from time to time.

She was invited last minute, of course, since his management called last night to ask if there was any way for them to be seen together. With Harry’s new movie coming out and his solo album just released a couple weeks ago, it was almost a given for him to be rumored with a girlfriend. That’s how it’s worked all throughout his career.

He normally wouldn’t have minded, however, this was the worst possible date for him to be with Kendall.

Because it’s Anne’s birthday party, this means that it’ll be the first time in one year that he’ll be seeing Y/n. They have been best friends since they were five years old, basically growing up in the same house as they went through school together. But as time went on, and as they both went to their separate ways, it was hard to keep in touch with each other all the time.

She remained in the small towns of London while Harry was traveling world wide, where his name became known everywhere as Y/n’s was only known through people she attended school with. Of course, they still talked, considering they both admitted to having more than friendship feelings, but their lives were busy in their own ways, preventing them from being more than what they wanted to be.

For the past couple months, Harry planned that this would be the day he’d finally move forward with Y/n. Or, at least attempt to. With the loss of her over the past year, it made Harry realize just how much he couldn’t imagine a life without her. It had been so long—too long, and he couldn’t stand how long he’s lived without keeping in touch with her.

But now, everything he planned for the two of them is becoming impossible. He can’t begin to imagine how Y/n would feel knowing he brought Kendall to his mum’s birthday party after they both confessed their love for each other. In all honesty, he wouldn’t blame her for giving up on him. He keeps doing this to her, even if it’s unintentional.

He watches around the kitchen at the guests he hasn’t seen in quite a while. His leg bounces with impatience when each new person walking in to attend the party isn’t Y/n. It’s been nearly an hour and has never been so late to anything before.

And as horrible as it sounds, he almost wishes she doesn’t come, just so that she can avoid the heartbreak that will come when she reunites with Kendall again.

“I’m sorry I’m late!”

Harry’s head whips around when he hears the voice he’s been deprived of for the past year. The first thing he notices are her lips, and the way they move around her words so softly. They’re slightly glazed with a lipgloss, painting her lips with a rosy shade of pink. They look so much fuller to him now, but he knows not a trace of them are artificial.  

His eyes only drift from the shape of her lips when her fingers reach to tuck loose pieces of hair behind her ear. It’s then he notices just how much shorter her hair has gotten. What was once so long and lank is now falling just above the shoulder, set in luscious curls he can only imagine twisting around his fingers.

His jaw goes slack when he sees the pale pink dress she’s wearing. It’s made from silk, the metallic fabric glowing with each step she takes. He gulps when he notices just how much the dress accentuates the curvature of her body and how much of her legs are put on display for him to see, and he can’t help but to wipe the sweat off his palms when he watches her greet his mother with a proper kiss on the cheek.

He notices that his eyes haven’t shut since he’s seen her, but he’s so completely intrigued by how much has changed in her. Something about her seems so much more real—so much more vibrant—and he can’t seem to stop himself from praising how time has done her so goddamn well.

“You never told me she was going to be here.“

His body jerks at Kendall’s sudden appearance, her body slowly occupying the seat next to his at the kitchen island. If it wasn’t for her, he swears he would have caught himself drooling.

“Didn’t think I had to,” he says with a shrug, “she’s been my best friend since we were five. She’s basically apart of this family, she wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

Y/n hasn’t missed a single one of Anne’s birthday celebrations since she’s known Harry. Their bond is irreplaceable—so irreplaceable, in fact, that Anne has been convinced Y/n is a miracle for their family. She was there for them through all the troubled times; helping them through their hardships and family instabilities.

When Anne and her husband first got divorced, Harry and Y/n were seven. Harry didn’t understand much of what was happening, all he knew was that his mum and dad weren’t going to love each other anymore. He was hurting, even when Gemma was there to try and keep him together. He started to believe everything between his parents was a lie.

She understood the whole separation process. Her mum left her at a young age, leaving her alone with her father. They were close, of course, but she always missed having a mother figure in her life. It made her upset to know she could only listen to one voice in the house, but as she grew older, she accepted it more.

By the time she met Harry, he kept bringing her over to his house as the years went on. Anne was the closest she had to mother, and their bond became unbreakable by the time Y/n was a teenager. Nearly seven years of Y/n being like another member of the family, Y/n started buying Anne Mother’s Day cards.

So when Y/n watched her second family fall apart, along with Anne’s heart, and she was determined to patch them back together again. Even at her young age, she’d pick flowers from her garden and give them to Anne everyday after school. Y/n said they represented her, and how she felt being a woman with such love and beauty could die all too quickly. Harry never understood what it meant, but Y/n did, which is why she never stopped until she heard Anne laughing again.

She also started to draw pictures and write her letters, reminding her of how loved she was by everyone. As much as Anne was heartbroken during the time, she took the letters everywhere she went and kept every flower alive for as long as she possibly could. Anne would always tell Harry “That girl came into our lives for a reason, my love. She’s a special one, our little miracle, never let her go. You hear me?”

Harry didn’t understand what it truly meant to let someone go, but he did his best to do anything but that. And now, as Harry sits on his mother’s kitchen island and seeing Y/n for the first time in a year, he feels he’s done just that.

“Guess not.” Kendall mutters, taking her last sip of the red wine left in her glass. “She’s just so strange, I guess. I can barely hold a conversation with her without her making an excuse to leave.”

Kendall and Y/n never really got along, it was extremely noticeable to everyone who held a conversation with the both of them. They just don’t see things in the same light. Y/n is very outgoing and lively; an extreme extrovert that seeks adventure—and Kendall can’t stand it. She thinks Y/n does it for attention, especially because she’s remained a small town girl while being surrounded by well-known celebrities. And even though it may seem like Y/n likes the attention, that’s not her purpose. She gives all her attention to others, never to herself, and it has always been something Harry loved the most.

And when it comes to Y/n, Kendall was that one thing that was constantly in her way of Harry. No matter how many times Harry and Y/n discussed how there was something between them, Kendall always found her way back to haunt her. She was her worst goddamn nightmare. She was perfect for Harry in the public eye, and nothing made Y/n feel worse than knowing she’ll never be her type of perfect, especially when it came to Harry.

But Kendall doesn’t know that. All she knows is that Y/n is extremely stand-offish with her, and she’ll never understand why.

“She’s not used to our lives. It’s extremely difficult for her to understand how we live, you know? She’s normal.”

Kendall scoffs, eyes rolling around the room because she hates that word. She feels so divided, like she’s in a categorization in society and everything about it makes her teeth clench.

“We’re normal, too, you know. I don’t understand why she feels so intimated and feels like she has something to prove.”

Harry’s jaw clenches slightly at the negative connotes Kendall has about Y/n’s life. Something about it makes his stomach twist the wrong way, and he can’t help the underlying growl in between his words.

“We’re not normal. Deep down, you and I both know that. You also don’t know Y/n, so stop making irrational assumptions about her.”

Kendall narrows her eyes at Harry, a gaze full of confusion and disbelief at the undeniable grumble in his tone. Any rational conversation they have about Y/n always end the same—with Harry quick to end the discussion and jump to her defense. It’s times like these Kendall never understood the true extent of Harry and Y/n’s relationship. They always claimed it was platonic but there has always been a sense of something stronger in them, like unaddressed or unchased feelings, or a past they shared that was kept between the two.

Either way, it annoyed the shit out of Kendall because they both were hiding something that she’ll never be able to get answered.

“Fine, whatever.” She sighs dramatically, scooting her chair back until she has room to stand properly. “Want some more wine? Getting some.”

Harry slides his empty wine glass so that it’s in front of her, muttering a small “yeah, thanks” before she’s on her way to the counter across the room, retrieving extra wine and mingling with some of Harry’s family.

Harry sighs while his head rests at the palm of his hand, eyes gazing directly to where Y/n is standing. His lips tug up lightly when he hears her laugh from the living room, his tongue running over his bottom lip ever so slightly as he watches her mouth lift and her eyes squint shut as she catches up with one of his uncles about his grand annual weekend fishing trip.

And as his eyes stay so transfixed on the woman in the other room, he can’t help but imagine seeing that type of perfection every day for the rest of his life.

“And everyone thinks Sweet Creature is about me..”

Harry’s head snaps to Gemma’s figure leaning over the edge of the island, her elbows hitched on the counter as a small smirk plays on her lips. She found it abnormally amusing how he didn’t even acknowledge her presence until she spoke, too invested in hawking over Y/n’s every move.

Harry grumbles, but the smile from Y/n’s laughter is permanent on his lips when he does so. Gemma even notices his cheeks brighten with pink, another hint of confirmation to the words she spoke.

“Shut up, Gem.“

She puts her arms up defensively, “Hey, don’t take it out on me. I’m just making an observation.”

Harry rolls his eyes as Gemma wraps her arm around his neck, hunching over so that her lips are close to his ear and eyes are directed toward Y/n again.

“She has gotten hotter, hasn’t she?”

She has no idea. All Harry can think about is how someone already so beautiful has grown to be so perfect. Everything about her makes Harry want to get down on his knees and worship every inch of her body. He has to bite down on his bottom lip to stop himself from thinking how much of a wreck he wants to make out of her.

“I don’t know how she did it. You better get her while you still have the chance, I know many, many men who want a taste of her.”

No is the first thing Harry thinks when the words leave from Gemma’s mouth. As hypocritical and selfish as it is, knowing other men have shown an interest in her makes his skin crawl. And he can’t help but feel his throat tighten at the moment Y/n realizes he had brought Kendall to this party.

“Is she—“ he can’t even finish his sentence without his jaw tightening again, hindering the rest of his question from leaving his lips.

“Oh, quit your worrying, H. She’s single, I don’t think she’d ever date someone who isn’t you. Besides, I don’t think you can do much about it with Kendall here.”

Gemma lifts a finger to where Kendall is standing, still in the same spot as she talks to his aunt Leslie. His heart hurts knowing what Y/n will feel when she finds out. He knows that there is always a part of her that feels discouraged whenever there’s a new woman in his life. In between Harry and Y/n’s love for each other was a mix of false hopes and miscommunication, and it always fucked them up whenever anything else was put in their way.

Gemma pats his shoulder before making rounds to her family and friends again, leaving Harry slumped against the counter with not a drop of wine to numb his scrambling mind.

When Y/n finishes catching up with the rest of Harry’s family, she finds that her patience is wearing thin. It’s been a year since she’s seen the love of her life, and knowing that he’s somewhere near her is enough to get her heart racing.

When she sees him sitting alone at the kitchen island, wearing his infamous pink suit and staring down at his fingers, it’s as if her body starts to malfunction. Her legs stop moving and her lips part, eyes glistening with admiration as she sees him for the first time in so long.

He’s as beautiful as ever, his new haircut accentuating his facial structure. His lips seem so much more red, too, which are complimented greatly by that goddamn suit. Everything about him radiates, like he’s developed into a whole other person. She’ll never quite grasp the idea that she’s about to reunite with him; something about it makes her palms sweat.

“Hey, stranger.”

Harry lifts his head up to look at her in all her glory. His heart warms at her presence more than the wine did, and he can’t help but to take a breath of relief when he finally hears her voice again.

“Y/n.” He breathes out, his fingers instinctively reaching up to the ends of her cut hair.

He chokes out a laugh of admiration when he sees her this close to him. She is so much different—so much more perfect than he ever remembers her being and it takes his breath away.

His fingers twist her hair, wrapping them around the digits before letting the strands fall back in place again. He never saw her without her hair down to her waist, and now that he has, he never wants to see her hair past her shoulders again.

“It’s so beautiful” he whispers, “you look so beautiful like this, Y/n. I absolutely love it.”

She blushes, her chin tucking slightly into her neck as if trying to hide how much of a reaction he got out of her. No matter how many years she’s known him, she was never used to the way he spoke to her.

“It was spontaneous. Really wanted a change, and it looks like I’m not the only one.”

Her hands reach to his hair, which is so much shorter compared to the last time she saw him. She remembered she couldn’t keep her hands out of it last year, constantly finding ways to tangle her fingers at the ends. Harry found it hysterical, actually, and thought it was the cutest thing she’s ever done.

“It’s just so soft” she’d say, “it’s like a whole other world in there!”

But now her only option is to tangle her fingers at the roots, and as she does so, her mind drifts to all the other occasions she could have her hands in his hair again.

“It’s so much shorter. Look at that! I can barely tug on it anymore!” She laughs in amusement, her fingers slipping as she pulls too hard.

He smirks up at her, a giggle falling from his lips as he watches her utterly amused reaction. They begin to catch up with the part of their lives they both have missed. Harry talked about his album while Y/n started discussing her new journalism job.

Talking to Y/n is one of the only normal parts of him left, it always gave him a sense of grounding whenever he felt his career was taking off to heights he wasn’t ready for. She is one of the only sense of normality he has left in his life, and it’s another reason as to why he admires her so dearly. She brought out parts of him nobody else could reach, and it’s another reason why he feels so upset he’s barely talked to her.

“Y/n?” he asks hesitantly, reaching his hand over so that his fingertips graze her hand.

Her breath breaks when he touches her, the softness in his voice proving that what is about to be discussed is far more important than their previous conversation. She notices the stress lines in between his forehead and the parting of his wine stained lips when he begins to speak. 

“I’m so sorry I haven’t kept in touch with you. I know how it makes me look, especially after everything that happened between us. With the new album and everything, I’ve just been so busy with—“

“Kendall?”

Harry’s head jumps to where Y/n stares dumbfounded, Kendall holding two glasses of wine in one hand while the other is carrying a plate of chicken wings. She’s looking down at Y/n, too, her eyebrows lifted up in an intimidating manner. There’s a scowl present on her lips as she continues to tower over her.

Y/n feels tears building in her eyes as she takes in the situation at hand. She was so fucking dumb to think that Harry was going to come to Anne’s party alone, especially since his new album just released. This is Kendall’s prime time appearance, when Harry needs a familiar famous face beside him to advertise his solo career.

This isn’t anything new—this isn’t anything unfamiliar, but the pain feels like a fresh wound to her heart. Harry and Y/n are nearly 24, with having known each other and felt something for each other for years, she thought that if anything were going to happen, it was going to happen now. But everything between them has remained stagnant for so long that the last sliver of hope she had for their potential relationship has been completely taken away from her. By Kendall, again.

“W—Wow, I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t know Harry had invited you.”

“Yeah,” Kendall nods, “he invited me last night.”

Last night.

Y/n’s lips purse together, nodding her head as her eyes drift around the kitchen. Anything to avoid Kendall’s eyes—anything to feel as unimportant as she does now.

Harry’s eyes squeeze shut, a small hissing releasing from his tongue at how wrong it all sounds, considering absolutely nothing happened between Harry and Kendall the previous night besides being demanded that the two of them are to be seen together again.

“Right,” Y/n’s voice cracks, “well, I’m sorry to interrupt your time together. I’m going to go to Gemma’s room, got a phone call from my dad a while ago so I should go check up on him. I’ll see you guys around.”

She musters up a pathetic smile before practically running away from them. After everything they both told each other, after all the feelings they’ve had toward each other, how could Harry keep doing this to her? How could he keep being with Kendall when he says he loves Y/n?

She doesn’t even find the strength in her to hold in her tears before she approaches the steps, not daring to look back at them again. She never wants to see them in the same room again, it’ll be too much her heart can handle. 

“You’ve really got to be fucking kidding me, Kendall.” Harry growls.

His hands fist around the wine glass, his knuckles turning white and he’s absolutely shocked it hasn’t shattered into pieces in his hands from all the anger pulsing through his veins.

Jesus, Harry, neither one of you can take a joke. Does she not understand that all of this is for the press? She keeps acting like we’re a couple.”

“Could you really blame her after that? ‘He invited me last night,’ you’re really getting a kick out of making her uncomfortable, aren’t you?”

He grumbles as he takes a long sip of his wine, hoping that the alcohol loosens his muscles enough to restrain himself from doing anything he regrets. He loves his mum too much to start an argument during her birthday party, and as much as Kendall’s shifting Harry’s mood, he still appreciates her as a friend to ruin anything.

“That wasn’t even my fault, you both dug into that way too deep. Last night does not mean while we were fucking. It’s a time of day.”

“It’s the way you said it.”

“Are you being serious, Harry?”

He slams his glass down on the island, grumbling under his breath while he stands up from his chair. No matter how much anger is in him now, the only thoughts swirling in his brain are wondering if Y/n’s okay. She would have never left the party to go into a secluded room, not even if her dad called her.

“You leave her the fuck alone, Kendall. I mean it.”

He storms away from her, desperate to find Y/n because God only knows what’s really happening in that bedroom. Y/n’s emotions and feelings are always positive, always so bright, and he refuses to be the reason they turn upside down. She doesn’t deserve all he keeps doing to her, she doesn’t deserve him.

When Harry nearly swings himself onto the first step, he can already hear the soft murmur of Y/n’s and Anne’s voice, which makes him stop from approaching them any more than he has already.

“Y/n? Y/n, darling?” Anne asks with worry when she sees Y/n climbing up the top step with tears in her eyes, soft cries falling from her throat as her hand attempts to silence them.

She reaches an arm out for her, tugging at the front of Y/n’s dress slightly to get her attention. She’s grateful it was Anne who found her this way instead of any other guest at the party, considering nobody besides her and Harry have seen her with a frown on her face.

“Y/n, baby, what’s going on with you?”

The lights are off in the hallway, with no guests permitted in the area, which gives Y/n the proper time to fully allow her tears to fall down her cheeks.

“I’m so s—sorry, Anne.” Y/n cries.

Anne’s hands rub her shoulders, reassuring her that there’s absolutely nothing for her to apologize for. It also lets her know that she’s willing to listen to her, no matter where or when—she’ll always be there.

“I’m almost 24, Anne, and I’ve put so much of my life on hold for him.”

She knows instantly who Y/n’s talking about. It wasn’t difficult to notice the undying connection between Y/n and her son, especially as the years went on. They have grown so strongly together, there has never been a doubt in Anne’s mind that Y/n is going to be the girl Harry ends up marrying. Everyone in the family called it a destiny waiting to happen, but it has been so long since anything has happened between them, and Anne can’t help but feel heartbroken to know Y/n’s carrying the wrong idea about him and Kendall.

“And I’ve sacrificed so m—much to continue waiting for him, but I don’t think I can keep doing this anymore. We’re nowhere near where we should be, especially when he keeps spending time with Kendall and I just—I just don’t know if I can—“

“Oh, my darling.” Anne sighs, cradling Y/n’s head against her shoulder as she rubs down her back.

She shushes her through her tears, rocking her slightly in an attempt to calm her from her cries. It’s extremely rare for Y/n to feel upset, so when she does so, Anne knows she deserves all the comfort and love she can get.

“I know you so well, and I know my son. I always knew you were a match made in heaven, my dear. I knew from the start you were more than just an ordinary girl. You’re so special, to everyone in our family, but especially to him. He may not have his head screwed on right most of the time, but if I can promise you anything with all my heart, it’s that he loves you. Please, no matter what, never forget that.”

Y/n nods against her shoulder, thanking her through her violent cries before Anne insists she takes some time to herself. And as much as Y/n wanted to refrain from going into Harry’s bedroom, it’ll be the only place that brings her a sense of comfort.

Harry already knows he’s in for a lecture the second he sees his mum coming down the stairs with bewildered eyes. She grips his shoulders, her face tight with frustration.

“Mum—“

“You go over to her and you be the man I taught you to be, Harry.”

Harry’s eyes widen at her words, swallowing thickly at the thought of disappointing another person in his life.

“She loves you and you love her. Stop doing favors for other people and start thinking about you before you ruin both of your lives forever. You hear me?”

Harry nods feverishly, determined and more motivated than ever to fix all that he’s caused. Love comes first, always, and he needs to remember that before he breaks Y/n’s heart completely.

She’s it. She’s all that matters to him.

He barely responds to Anne before he’s racing to his old bedroom, completely clueless as to what he’s going to say, but willing to do anything to get her back.

“Y/n?” Harry calls through the door of his old bedroom. “Y/n, can I come in?” 

He knocks on the door lightly, just using the knuckles of his pointer and middle finger. He hears her feet pad over to the door, opening it to reveal her tear stained cheeks. Her hands are trembling against the knob, her breath broken with soft, gentle cries. Her eyes are widened with sadness, wet and red from tears she barely ever cries.

“Y/n.” He whimpers, tentatively reaching his shaking fingers up to her cheeks. He wipes away the tears from the bottoms of her eyes, sighing upsettingly as her eyes close at his touch. “Never seen you like this. Please talk to me.”

Her lips quiver as another sob rips through her, her hand reaching up to capture his between her fingers. Her saddened and wet eyes looking down at the intertwined hands now resting against her lap.

“I’m so tired, H.” She whimpers, “So tired.”

His lips press against her forehead, “I know, love. I know.”

She wraps her arms around him, her face burying in between his chest as he lets her tears soak in his undershirt.

“I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought I’d finally be alone with you after all this time. I missed being close to you, I wanted to be closer to you and I thought you felt the same about me and I didn’t understand, Harry, I didn’t get it and—“


“Hey, relax for me.” Harry mumbles, his lips grazing tenderly along her cheek.

She takes a deep breath, her fingers fisting the back of his suit tighter in her fists. She rests her chin on the top of his chest, tears still roaming down her face as she lets out an exasperated sigh. Her fingertips trace patterns on his back, her eyes fluttering closed as he pushes some of her hair off of her face, refraining them from sticking to her wet cheeks.

“I didn’t get it,” she whispers, “I was so confused, and when you didn’t answer my calls or texts I thought you didn’t find me important. And I was under no right to be upset about it, because you’re busy and you have priorities. But when I saw you today, I didn’t see you as the Harry I always have, I still can’t tell you what I saw but I wanted every part of you more than I ever have before. But when I saw Kendall I—“

Her cries and words die down when she feels Harry’s tender lips against hers. She’s taken aback at first, and before she has any time to really kiss him back, he’s already pulled away.

“Let me fix this.” He breathes out, “let show you that I only want you.”

His lips press against the side of her mouth, not allowing himself to kiss her the way he wants to until she lets him. They then begin to travel down her neck, along her jaw, around her mouth.

Y/n’s breath is stiff as he does so, embracing the feeling of his mouth against her skin. They’ve only ever kissed a handful of times, none of them being passionate or loving. They’ve shared pecks while saying goodbyes or after confessing their feelings, but none quite like this—none quite like the one anticipating to happen.

His breathing his hard when he continues to kiss along her skin, his fingers moving longly in her hair the more his mouth presses against her.

“Will you let me?” He whispers when his lips are ghosting over hers, “this okay?”

She nods feverishly, hitting the point of desperation when she feels his breath fan over the skin of her face. She’s been needing this for far too long now.

“Yes, please.

His thumb runs over her bottom lip one, two, three times before he finally leans in. Their lips mush together passionately, only breaking apart to move their position before locking again. Their tongues meet in the middle, making the both of them moan at the unfamiliar spark coursing through their veins.

Harry walks toward his bed until Y/n’s knees hit the edge of it, making her back meet the mattress. Their lips haven’t detached once, not daring to break away from the feeling they’ve both been deprived of.

They’re both making out on Harry’s childhood bed, grinding onto each other half naked like two hormonal teenagers. Their clothes thrown across the room, lips swollen from all the suction and nibbling, and hair completely knotted from either of their fingertips, the party below them long forgotten.

“Wait, wait wait wait!” Y/n gasps, lifting herself off of his chest.

Harry’s chest rises and falls rapidly, trying to catch his breath as he looks up at Y/n in confusion. He watches as a smirk lifts from her lips as she peers down at his flushed face, giggling slightly at his complete fucked out appearance.

She notices that his lips remained stained from the red wine—a little faded—but still making her body weak at the sight of it.

“’s the matter?” He croaks.

His voice is thick—an entirely different level of raspy, and Y/n wonders how she’s lived so long without hearing him speak in that way. Between all the kissing, all the touching, all the moaning, his voice has a particular roughness to it that Y/n could feed off of if she had to.

“We shouldn’t do this, right? I mean, we’re about to fuck during your mum’s birthday party. Your entire family and Kendall are downstairs, anybody could walk in at any second, or hear us, and your mum could find that so disrespectful and—“

Her rambling is interrupted by his lips, meeting hers passionately between her words.

There is no way in hell he’s leaving this room tonight. Everything that’s been stagnant between them is finally moving in the right direction, and he can’t find it anywhere in him to walk away from it.

“You think I’m letting you go now?” He whispers, his thumb running along her bottom lip. “I have been waiting for this moment with you since high school, sweetheart.”

His lips reattach to her neck, sucking on spots he hasn’t already left marks on, soaking up every bit of the time he has with her before it’s over. This is the first time they’re going to make love, and he wants to feel and remember every bit of this moment.

“B—But your mum—“ She moans, her fingers nearly tangling at the ends of his hair as she hisses in pleasure from his tongue.

“Every single person downstairs knows about us. This—this happening right now, has been expected to happen since I first brought you home. I guarantee you, nothing will make her more happy than knowing her son and his future wife are finally acting on our feelings instead of pushing them to the side again.”

His words make Y/n blush like no other; her cheeks turning the shade of pink on her dress she wore previously. It’s then he notices just hot fucking pretty she is in pink, how every tint of the color compliments her in ways he can barely wrap his head around.

“Future wife, hm?” She smirks, tapping the pads of her fingers against his bare collarbones.

He kisses her again.

“Thought you knew that, love. Wouldn’t know a single soul I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” His fingers dig into her hips, “’s always been you.“

Y/n pushes Harry’s back against the mattress again, trailing her fingers down his torso. She giggles when his teeth clench at her touch, finding it almost irresistible to embrace the way he responds to her touch so easily.

“Trust me, I always knew.”

Take The Trade: Part 1

Author: @sincerelystiles
Pairing: Dylan x Reader
Word Count: 2,836

Warning: THIS IS VERY SINFUL OH DEAR LORD

A/N: big fuckin thanks to the girls for encouraging me to finish this and being super supportive. i’ve been working on this for the longest time and it’s finally here, so enjoy mother fuckers x x

LISTEN TO THIS ON REPEAT!!!!


Originally posted by gabalecki


I throw the phone onto the couch, groaning in annoyance and stomping my feet like a child as I wander to the kitchen, huffing once more to catch Dylan’s attention. “What’s wrong?” He asks, his back still turned to me as he assorted popcorn and candy into different plastic tubs.

My shoulders slouch and I climb onto the island, crossing my legs and pulling an unsatisfied face. “Everyone’s busy, they can’t make it.” I grumble under my breath with furrowed eyebrows. Friday night was game night, everyone came over to my place to eat junk food, play stupid board games and get completely wasted. But, everyone decided they’d be busy this week, which couldn’t have been any more inconvenient.

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Promise*

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Rating: Explicit - 18+ only
Summary: Reader, being reckless gets hurt on a mission. Days later, when she gives her final report to her boyfriend Steve, it provokes an argument between them.
Word Count: 3.5k
Genre: general fiction containing explicit sexual content.
Warnings: argument, mild swearing, mentions of death. NSFW/SMUT: makeup sex, praise kink, soft dirty talking, nipple play, oral sex (female receiving), slow fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, and semi-protected sex. - This fic assumes Reader is on the pill. [Cover your stone before you bone!]
Author’s Note: especially written for @always-an-evans-addict‘s writing challenge. I hope you like this one, sweetie.

   New Avengers Facility

“Steve, you read my report and Wanda told you what happened. That’s it. Can’t we just move on?”

“That’s it? That’s it?!”

Behind the closed door of your boyfriend’s office, you uncomfortably explained yourself, keeping in mind that people around you could probably sense the walls vibrating under the force of your voices.

You’d never thought that blowing out the last Hydra base found in Argentina would provoke such a drama within the team, or between you and the super soldier. Usually, you and Steve argued about the group’s mistake, not yours. When the incident happened in South America, you realized that if Wanda hadn’t been there, you probably wouldn’t be alive today.

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It was a September foggy morning when we met. I caught your eyes and something inside me in that very moment just knew you were trouble. Maybe because you held that cigarette in a certain way, or maybe was the way you used to pronounce my name, always in a low tone, like you were tasting every single syllable in your lips. It made me shiver and it made me uncomfortable, and something along the lines of getting out of my comfort zone for a while made you just irresistible.

You told me you weren’t nice to people because when you are you get hurt and fucked over, I told you I had the same problem. And then a month later, I broke down my shell for you and was nice, I showed you I actually cared. I guess that was my mistake, because you were no different from the rest. I guess you were so scared of being fucked over you decided to screw me over instead.

And there was this day when I woke up and I just couldn’t do it anymore. I stood there in front of you, shaking as I gathered up all of my courage and asked, “Do you hate me?”

You gave me that stupid, skeptical look. “Of course not.”

You looked into my eyes with those beautiful amber pools, the ones no one had ever bothered to notice except me.

“You’re always so kind to me.” Those words shot through my heart like an arrow. Tears started to spill down my somber cheeks.

“Then why are you always so cruel to me?” I whispered. Then it hit me. Like a truck, right through my heart. And in that moment my brain knew, what my heart just wasn’t ready to realize.
I loved you. I saw the future, the brightness and the fireworks.

You kinda liked me. You saw the milky skin, the soft hair and the red lips.

The edge of your lips tasted like desire catching fire.

And mine, like a mix of true love and a sweet romance.
You never wrote me poems. And I am still writing about you.
We were never in love. We would fuck in you car or on your bed where others girls had been or in the shower or while I was crying.

We saw each other naked so often I have the image painted on the back of my eyelids. You ripped my underwear off. You always liked me more when I was vulnerable. I woke you up with kisses, you woke me up with hickies.

And for a long time, I thought they were the same thing.

I asked you once while we both got drunk why it was that I could write novels about you until the words got tired of being anagrams of your name — but at the same time you would never reciprocate. You took a sip of your drink, blew a smoke ring and broke it with your finger.

“Dunno,” you said. We would fuck again later. And that to me, was the closest I was of being loved, adored, liked, worshiped even. But it was not even close to that.

It was carnal, pathetic and almost disgusting. Those are the only adjectives I can give to our so called relationship.

“Is it a crime to be halfway in love with someone?” I used to ask in those drunk moments, the tears I would never let you see, always stinging.

“Can I still feel something for you, after we told each other everything. After you betrayed and lied and never listened to me?” You would meet my eyes, looking confused as if you never promised anything, and it was true, you never did.

“You don’t have to feel anything. Maybe it’s better if you don’t.”
I did messed up all the lines from the Great Gatsby. I fell for all the wrong reasons. You had a green light smile with a gun prodding the center of my back, and I was so lost in your senseless acts that I, for a long time, thought it could be close to love.

And my love for you was like a penny. It wasn’t much, but it’s all I had, and you threw it on the ground like it was nothing.
I craved that side of you that you didn’t show to anyone else.
You only craved the parts of me that was exposed to everyone else.

I said I loved you.
You said that the difference between sex and love is that sex relieves tension and love causes it.

To sum up, I saw someone worth falling for, you saw a body and a potential fuck.

I once found you sitting on my floor staring at a picture from when I was young.

“God,” you said, “I really fucked you up.” And then finally, my last words, “I hope it hits you like a truck every time you hear my name that you never fucked me up. But how badly you fucked us up.”

And like that, you broke the heart. I never even knew I had. I remember talking with my best friend once I left you. She asked if I really were in love with you.

I had never realized that, after all you’d put me through, no one had ever even asked me that.

Within milliseconds everything came rushing back to my mind. I thought of all the 3 am conversations and secret shared glances in the hallway. I thought of how I opened my heart to you and let you in like I hadn’t done in a really long time. I thought of how you ripped it straight out of my chest and tore it to pieces. I thought of the 3 am tears shed into my pillow and the texts left unopened. I thought of how you broke my heart, and how you were the first person to ever do that.

I closed my eyes as four of the most important words I had ever spoken were about to come out of my mouth.

“No, no I wasn’t.”

I decide then that love is a terrible, terrible thing. Loving someone as fiercely…must be like wearing your heart outside of your body with no skin, no bones, no nothing to protect it.

And loving you? That was impossible. You were worth a fuck, not a lifetime story.
—  By unknown
His || Jungkook || 0.18

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 | 0.11 | 0.12 | 0.13| 0.14 | 0.15 | 0.16 | 0.17 | 0.18

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Make up Marichat May, Day 12: Sleepover

Title: Good Morning
Word Count: 2,059

“Nope,” Chat Noir admits, trying to keep any disappointment from sneaking into his tone. He’d never slept over at someone’s house before. His father was far too protective to have him do something like that.  

“No? They’re fun,” Marinette says nonchalantly.

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Friends Part 1

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

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1947

Warnings: Fluffy and angst

Thank you @amrita31199 for beta this for me you are amazing 

credits to the gif owner

You never felt so inadequate in your life, when you left the house for one of Tony’s parties . You felt beautiful in your black strapless dress and high heels.  But as soon as you arrived at the party, you felt your heart being shattered.

You see Bucky with a beautiful blonde in his arms , when he sees you he comes in your direction kissing your cheek and pulling you to a hug “Don’t you look beautiful?” He says staring into your eyes, you smile at him with your best fake smile“Well I tried, apparently not as hard as your date.” You say sounding bitter even if that is the last thing you wanted to be or sound like.

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Good F*ck

SUMMARY - You tell about your frustrations about not ever having good sex to Nat and Wanda and Bucky overhears .

WORDS- 1.8K(approx)

A/N - Taw @supersoldierslover I love you . Thank you so much . 

WARNINGS- cursing , dirty talk, fingering , unprotected sex (just use a fucking condom pls) also very sexual gif of lance tucker below(definitely a warning).

Originally posted by blurredmelancholy

“Fuuuck….” , you groan hitting your head lightly to the coffee table but enough to get your friends Nat and Wanda to notice you .

“What is it now? “Nat asked nonchalantly , used to your sudden outburst of frustration .

“I just…I… I feel empty.” You say looking helplessly at the two of them .
Both their expression changed to one of sympathy .

“Y/N , I understand . I feel that way too sometimes . With the job we have we are….”Wanda starts before you interrupt her .

“Nooo , you don’t understand . That’s not what I am trying to say .I just …” You throw your hands in the air and let out a whine.

“What is Y/N?”  Nat asked a little irritated.

“I just need to be dicked okay . Like fucked so good that I see the fucking stars and pass out . Arghhh!!!!!”

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Secret Kink - Smut

Originally posted by obriengif

Author: @dumbass-stilinski and @celestial-writing
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Reader
Words: 3,510
AN: This is a collab between me and Madi aka @celestial-writing and I don’t know but I’m really proud of this! It’s pretty dirty, we got some daddy kink going on over here, but we really hope you like it! 


Also, this is a happy belated birthday to Stiles Stilinski! 



It was Stiles’ 18th birthday and the whole pack had come to celebrate. After the year you’d been having, it was nice to take a break and enjoy each other’s company instead of fighting whatever big bad had decided to wreak havoc on the tiny town of Beacon Hills.

You had a plan for the party for Stiles’ birthday, you had been planning this surprise for him for weeks and you knew he was going to enjoy it. Stiles never was a person that could keep secrets quiet when he was drunk, even his own.

Lydia was throwing her annual St. Patrick’s party, as usual the drinks were flowing heavily. Your boyfriend, Stiles, had clearly been taking advantage of the parties “amenities” when you found him by the bar.

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We Are Young: Chapter 14

Throne of Glass High School AU

Summary: Senior Rowan Whitethorn is new to town. It doesn’t take him long to get use to a new school, make new friends, even join the local hockey team. But it also doesn’t take him long to meet sophomore and figure skater Aelin Galathynius. And it doesn’t take him long to realize one thing; he can’t stand her.

Warning: NSFW

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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“Can you hurry up and pick a movie already?”

“Well. Maybe if you just told me what you wanted to watch instead of shooting down all my suggestions-”

“I picked last time. It’s your turn now.”

“You can’t say that and then complain about the movies I pick.”

“Fine.” Aelin leaned back against the couch. She crossed her arms and legs, a dramatic sigh escaping her lips. “Take your time. Besides, I’m enjoying the view anyways.”

Aelin smiled to herself as her eyes drifted to Rowan’s ass. Yeah, she was definitely enjoying the view. She’d actually be fine with spending the night staring at Rowan’s ass instead of watching a movie.

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YOI Fan Rec Friday

Hi! Thank you for all your requests this week! If you don’t see your rec, it means that it will be on next week’s list!

Rec’d by @theoneandonlyzoe and @streganicha:
Traslations on Ice series by Jenrose, Gen-Explicit, 101k (WIP)
The series begins with Victor’s point of view through the show, but then quickly moves into a post-season 1 continuation from several points of view.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Yu-topia Gentleman’s Club by Aradellia (CurtusPatronus), Teen, 45k (WIP)
Victor hadn’t exactly wanted the end of his long training day to finish at the bottom of a glass alongside his friend Chris, however he hadn’t expected Chris to drag him to a strip club, of all places. Of course, he also hadn’t expected to be introduced to one of the most alluring and blinding dancers he had ever seen in his life.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
You Set My Heart on Fire by whelvenwings, Teen, 34k 
Everyone has a soulmate. And everyone sees any marks on their soulmate’s skin appear on their own body; it starts with the first marks, drawn on by the midwife at birth. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a soulmate who replies, but Yuuri does, and he knows that he should feel fortunate - however, when he’s trying to make a living as a small-time painter, and his soulmate is the famous artist, Viktor Nikiforov… well, it seems slightly less than fortunate.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
heartbeat by shizuoh, Mature, 9.2k (WIP)
the warm bodies au where zombie viktor falls for human yuuri

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @xxxbladeangelxxx :
I Saw Your Reflection in the Waters of my Heart by Saingirl101, Explicit, 26k (WIP)
“I know it can be a lot to take in.” Viktor said with amusement clear in his voice.
“I don’t understand.” Yuuri said quaking slightly under Viktor’s gaze and warm hands, “Why would you ever want to meet someone like me?” He looked down. “I’m nothing special.”
Viktor’s brows pinched together as he let out a breath as if in disbelief, his head tilted slightly so the light of the moon reflected in his horns. “I have never thought of you as anything but extraordinary, Yuuri.”

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
wires by mizbritishnyxian, Gen, 5.7k (WIP)
Viktor doesn’t go to Japan. He has a season off, mourns for a love he never had, and wonders if continuing is even worth it anymore. Maybe, somehow, he’ll find the one he’d fallen for. And maybe, somehow, he’ll be able to convince himself that they’re in love with him.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Can You Hear My Heartbeat? by HQ_Wingster, Teen, 67k (WIP)
Whether it’s the tremolo of a note ringing out in the distance or a splendid duet between two individuals, music had a way of bringing people together. Music had a way of tearing things apart. Music had a way to express an open heart. Music had a way of gutting a life until everything bled.For one individual, music was his world. For music, it reunited a part of the world that he thought he had lost.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @bookfreaksworld :
Seventh Heaven (The Lion and the Eagle) by NinjaMatty, Mature, 70k (WIP) **Graphic depictions of violence 
The war is over. Katsuki Yuuri just wants to go home and forget about it all. But his heroics brought him the unwanted attention of the Emperor of his nation. As a thanks for his bravery, he is gifted an Omega barbarian. He tries to be positive about it, but the present ends up being a poisoned gift indeed. Is keeping Viktor worth the trouble?

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Senescence by Katyaton, Teen, 9k (WIP)
Life hadn’t been fair to either Viktor or Yuuri - A chance accident after the Sochi Grand Prix was all it took to irrevocably change both of their lives for good. However, when an innovative technology emerges that promises life after death, it seems they may have the chance to make everything right, despite the distance and years that have kept them apart.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
And we’ll keep moving, me & you by Natsumi, Mature, 3.8k (WIP)
Saint Petersburg is cold, Victor is busy, and Yuuri worries. Until he doesn’t anymore.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
we were together; i forget the rest by TrumpetGeek, Teen, 2k (WIP)
It’s in the moments between sleeping and waking, when he becomes conscious of Yuuri in his bed and in his arms -soft moments just before sunrise when he can hold out his hand and admire the way the gold creates shadows on his skin.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
I’m Right Here by merigold, Gen, 8.7k
Yuuri’s sick. Viktor’s more than a little charmed at the chance to take care of him.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Fondue by BastetCG, elenathea, Mature, 55k (WIP)
Male dancers are not supposed to dance en pointe. Yuuri knows that. Everyone knows that. But he can’t help but want to. He wants to be graceful and beautiful and float across the stage. And if he can find the confidence to explain that to Viktor, Viktor might just be able to help.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Forgotten Memories by Otakugirl1228, Teen, 12k (WIP)
In this world there are such things as soulmates, a persons one true love. You will know when you meet them the clock on your wrist will stop at zero, and your entire world will fill with color for the first time. But what if your soulmate didn’t have either of these things happen to them? 

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
The Katsuki Floating Bicycle Shop by turtleduck, Gen, 1.2k
Victor likes Yuuri’s family’s cute little bicycle shop. He likes the view, the colors, and the fresh air. But mostly he likes Yuuri. Up on the floating island that is the shop, he finds the two of them stuck in their own little world.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @saltprincevictor:
Tenebrae by unexpectedtrash, Explicit, 5.9k (WIP) CW: Religious content
Viktor is on his way to ordination. Yuuri is a novice Jesuit, devoted to music and to his order. They love God with all their heart, all their strength, and with all their mind

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Open up and See by rabidgopher, Not Rated, 2.9k (WIP)
In which Victor is in love with a stranger on the internet, and barely knows the boy who runs that rival bookstore.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Forged by Fire by Judchen, Teen, 4.2k (WIP)
Duelling is a form of art reserved only for nobility. With the help of Viktor, Yuuri plans to change that.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
An Honest Accident by undermyumbreon, Gen, 3.2k
After Yuuri completes his Short Program in a figure skating competition, he finds that he didn’t exactly finish it perfectly. Victor tries to comfort Yuuri and help him work through the embarrassment.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Unintentionally Yours by articas_ursula, Teen, 8.8k (WIP)
Yuri foolishly barges in right before Yuuri’s heat starts; Victor attacks him, thinking Yuri wants to steal his mate; Yuuri nearly kills Victor for harming “their pup”; Yuri just wants his skates back. We will proceed from there.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @saltprincevictor:
Without fear, without metaphor by reginar, Teen, 6k (WIP)
Yuuri was never one to use more words than necessary. Underutilized it, even, his family and friends would remark. Still, there was a certain relief that came with easy communication. Then he started wanting to use words for more. He even ran his mouth quite a few times in the past months, much to his embarrassment. And he quietly admitted to himself that it came with the sudden barrage of Victor Nikiforov into what he expected to be peaceful life and probable retirement in his hometown.  

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
The love behind a mask by Porkcutletkitty, Explicit, 5.3k (WIP)
Yuuri could still remember everything about the mysterious skater, who’s true identity was hidden behind immaculate masks. He remembered how kind and caring the man was and how it felt as if time itself would stop and stare when the man held him in his embrace. He also remembers how that world crumbled into dust when the mysterious man disappeared without so much as a kiss goodbye. It seemed that all traces of the man were gone from existence and yet four simple words brought Yuuri’s world into shambles.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
hailing frequencies by carnivores, Explicit, 5.3k (WIP)
In which Yuuri goes to Starfleet Academy, falls in love, stops a war, meets his soulmate, becomes a Communications Officer, and gets engaged. But not necessarily in that order. Also, Phichit seduces a Vulcan. Because of course he does.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @yuurioniceismylife :
Stay the Night by Shadow_sensei, Mature, 6.3k 
Yuuri Katsuki spends a week sleeping at an old hotel in St. Petersburg, expecting nothing more than a comfortable bed and a clean bathroom. Instead, he makes a mysterious encounter with a man he can neither see nor hear, who can only communicate with him by writing in the dust, and whose identity is only divulged to Yuuri within his dreams.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Changing Shapes by stardropdream, Explicit, 14k
Yuuri thinks about kissing Victor again and starting over from square one. But Yuuri knows that Victor’s stamina isn’t as robust as Yuuri’s own, and he doesn’t quite feel bold enough to make demands while in Victor’s bed. But now that Yuuri is getting semi-regular sex, he finds that he really can’t stop thinking about it most of the time. 

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @exile-wrath and @umadosedefanta:
That Old Time Religion by Tawabids, Teen, 57k **Graphic depictions of violence
Yuuri is pretty sure that when an impossible stranger turns up and tells you he’s the god of victory, it doesn’t matter how good-looking he is. The moment he asks you to abandon your mortal life and come back to his mountain kingdom with him, you turn around and walk away.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @ainiyuku:
For you, Falling by LiaoftheDawn, Gen, 5.4k
Yuuri’s uneventful evening took a sudden and unexpected twist after his friend and crush Victor Nikiforov came throwing pebbles at his window, eyes sparkling, smile bright with the promise of a surprise. “Surprising Yuuri is my thing after all, right?”

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
An Autobiographical Account of the Gross Misfortune of a Japanese Economics Student by NotTheTomato, Teen, 6.4k
In which Yuuri has a Flair for the Dramatic™, there is sexually-charged academic debate, and cravats flutter in the rain - defying physics, but looking amazing.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
A Dog is for Life by teamJNPR, Explicit, 6k (WIP)
Never quite over Vicchan’s death, Yuuri has avoided getting a new dog. So when Phichit coerces him into dog-sitting for famous chef Victor Nikiforov, Yuuri is reluctant.But now Phichit’s made a promise, and Yuuri can’t back out now.(Victor, on the other hand, is ecstatic to find his new dog-sitter is this cute)

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
One Hour Photo by youaremarvelous, Teen, 8k (WIP)
It takes an hour to develop photos, but it’ll probably take longer for something to develop between Viktor and the oblivious but cute cashier boy.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
blood is thicker than by icanhinatashouyoutheworld, Teen, 11k (WIP)
“You might be Yuri’s biological parent, Mr. Nikiforov. But I’m his father. If Yuri wants to go with you, that’s one thing,” Yuuri Katsuki’s voice flows quiet and dangerous into the room “but if he doesn’t, don’t think that you’re taking my child away from home,”

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous and @i-am-here-with-stupid:
Signs of Love by dia_dove, Explicit, 122k
After being discovered by his peers as an omega, Yuuri runs from the world of figure skating. It’s only to see his friend skate that he returns to the rink one more time. When he runs into skater and alpha Viktor Nikiforov, his body reacts in a way that neither he nor Viktor expect.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Drive by proantagonist, Explicit, 12k (WIP)
A story in which two sets of best friends road trip across America together.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Ways in Which Yuuri Tries to Play Off a Love Confession by fuxked, Gen, 3.5k (WIP)
A collection of ways in which yuuri tries to play off accidentally confessing his love to Viktor in various settings.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @theneverendingpurplesky:
(Don’t) Ring the Wedding Bells by cuttlemefish, Explicit, 31k (WIP)
As (loosely) inspired by real life, this is the wedding reception AU (you didn’t ask for, but will get) in which Yuuri Katsuki catches the bride’s bouquet and (shortly after) gets smashed at a wedding reception, then dirty dances with his best friend, (sort of) seduces a (hot) platinum-haired trust-fund baby named Viktor, and ends up being hounded for his identity (by said trust-fund baby and his friends and family) on social media.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
we are lost, but we are not gone by persephoneggsy, Mature, 26k (WIP)
The Dollhouse deals in fantasy, but Victor Nikiforov just needs one night. At least, until he finds himself wanting more. And it’s all because of Eros, the beautiful Active that’s consumed his every thought.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @mariellis1d:
Grinkov by waldorph, Teen, 5.3k **Major character death
The 2022 Olympics were Yurio’s to lose.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Blackbird by sixpences, Mature, 102k **Graphic depictions of violence
The year is 1942, and Europe is at war. Captain Victor Nikiforov, an intelligence operative for the NKVD, has been trapped in Berlin by the German invasion of the USSR. Posing as a Nazi industrialist, his days are spent charming information out of Axis diplomats to try and keep the Red Army fighting another day. Yuuri Katsuki, a foreign-educated bureaucrat in the Japanese Embassy, has secrets of his own concealed beneath his unremarkable demeanour. When he uncovers Victor’s real identity, it will alter the course of both of their lives forever.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Never Look Away by gabapple, mamodewberry, Mature, 108k (WIP)
Everything Viktor knows and loves is tangled up in the world of competitive skating- a world that, for him, is quickly coming to an end. Standing at the precipice of the inevitable, he must decide how his tale unfolds: should he retire into quiet obscurity? Allow himself to be eaten alive by the younger, more vicious competition?

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @glass-o-lemonade:
Forever Love by shadhahvar, Gen, 5.9k **Major character death
After a long and happy married life with each other, Yuuri and Victor have raised a daughter together, seen her married, and witnessed the birth of their first grandchild. When illness takes Victor away from Yuuri too soon (ever would be too soon), Yuuri is left to work through grief and make the most of his life until he sees Victor again.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @roseus-jaeger:
You have a Brother!? by RoseusJaeger, Teen, 3.6k
Katsuki Yuuri thought his date with Victor to the park would be peaceful until a very familiar-looking man decides to crash it.In addition, Victor gets hospitalized and Yuuri finds himself grateful this stranger showed up in their lives.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @infinitely-skybound:
On Matters of the Heart by infinite_imagination, Teen, 15k (WIP)
In a world where magic is rare and soulmarks even rarer, Yuuri, the youngest prince of Hasetsu, has somehow managed to be born with both. His name means strength and courage, but he doubts he is enough to become worthy of his soulmate, or if he even wants them.


Thank you for all your recs! ₍₍ (̨̡ ‾᷄♡‾᷅ )̧̢ ₎₎

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