but i made half of these last night but got too tired to finish it

Another Man’s Treasure

A/N: This is a completed five-part mini-series because @alrightpetal and I have this thing about making Harry super vulnerable and flawed. So here you go.

// Another Man’s Treasure // Mind on a Mission // Take the Lead // Worth the Pain // Wings of Butterflies


…I’m gonna show you tonight! I’m alright! I’m just fine! And you’re a tool so, so what?

You belted your heart out up on stage, pumping your fist in the air to empower your words even further. It was a good thing you knew all the words, too, because your mates had bought you so many drinks your vision was crossed and blurred you couldn’t have read the lyrics to an unfamiliar song. Then you would have just been a blubbering fool butchering a karaoke performance. And that would have been embarrassing.

Singing yourself blue in the face—and drinking yourself into oblivion—served as the perfect outlet for your aching heart. Hours earlier, you’d been dumped. Or more accurately, replaced.

It’d been a week since you’d heard from your long-term boyfriend, and while you knew he was on holiday with his mates—a holiday you hadn’t been invited on—it was still odd that you hadn’t heard from him at all. Not even a text to let you know that he’d made it to Amsterdam. You didn’t expect too much communication; you trusted him to treat you right, but, silly you, you thought your boyfriend might actually miss you and want to say hi.

Last night after seven and a half days of nothing, you completely lost it and called him forty-seven times in a row. And not a single one was answered. So you rang your closest friends and they came over, laptops and tablets in hand, and intense cyber-stalking commenced.

It only took thirty-four minutes for your good mate Lindsey to unearth a damning post on Insta that your boyfriend was tagged in by a girl you kind of knew. The picture itself wasn’t awful; honestly you couldn’t make out much besides silhouettes and drinks. Even the caption wasn’t much; all it said was, “this guy” with a random slew of emojis. But the funny thing was, when you tried to search for it yourself, nothing came up. Meaning you were blocked. You weren’t meant to see this picture.

Twenty-two minutes of super-sleuthing was enough time for your oldest friend Ashley to find every social media account the girl had, and then eventually uncover her phone number.

In thirteen minutes you had a text drafted to her that was so long it was broken into five different parts when you hit send.

And one minute and fifty-four seconds is all the time your boyfriend—well ex-boyfriend—allowed you to speak to him today before he told you he was coming back tomorrow and there’d be no need for you to come see him. Tomorrow or ever again.

So your mates did what they knew best. They took you out, got you absolutely smashed, and then got you up on stage to pour your heart out. Somewhere in between I Will Survive and Total Eclipse of the Heart, you got a bit weepy and ended up calling your brother from the toilet. It took you awhile to realize you weren’t actually sobbing to him but his voicemail, and as soon as you did you pulled yourself back together and headed out for another drink and a rousing rendition of Since U Been Gone.

The few other patrons in the pub were hardly paying attention to your drunken warbling on stage, only breaking from their conversations when your mates would cheer at the end of each song, some of them even offering half-hearted claps. If they were annoyed, they certainly didn’t let on. Most likely, they pitied you; for Christ sake, you pitied you.

When your song ended, you finished the rest of your drink and began flipping through the songbook. Liberation was surging through you and you wanted a song to match your mood; something to serve as a proper fuck you to the twat you’d wasted the last few years of your young life on.

The book closed on your fingers, and you stumbled back in surprise. Were books automated now too?! You still weren’t over the automated tills at Tesco, would you now have to get used to robotic books closing on you when they’d had enough?!

“[Y/N].”

You looked up, your blurred vision slowly coming into focus as you swayed on the spot. A robotic book didn’t close itself on you, a person had closed it. Which was rather rude of them.

[Y/N],” he repeated. Finally he came into view and you cocked your head in confusion.

“Hazza?” you slurred, taking a step closer to get a better look. You nearly toppled off the stage, but Harry was quick to grab you by the waist and steady you before easing you down.

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Rent-a-Boyfriend™

Words: 12k

Genre: Extreme fluff for all you bitter people out there (me being included)

Read more at Service Series 

Cr.

Are YOU lonely? Need someone to cuddle at night? Do you want love?

If you said ‘yes’ to any of the questions previously mentioned then we have a service for you!

Don’t be alone for this Valentine’s Day!

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(terms and conditions may apply. we are not responsible for any emotional or sentimental damages. please take caution with rent-a-boyfriend).

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Parallels

Originally posted by donewithjeon

 Taehyung x Reader

soulmate au, angst, sort of historical au?

 5.1K words

If there was one thing you were certain of, it was that the purpose or your existence was to love Kim Taehyung, and his was to love you. Throughout countless lifetimes the two of you have longed for each other, but just like parallel lines, though your souls always seemed to be travelling in the same direction, it was impossible that they could ever meet and become one.

Author’s Note: This was inspired by the Fallen series which I read when I was like 12 lmao


You were no longer sure who, or where, you had been the very first time you laid your eyes on Kim Taehyung.

So many lifetimes blurred together into one, your existence was so scattered throughout time you had begun to lose track of it.  But in each life, no matter who you were, regardless of whether you lived a life of luxury or one of extreme poverty, he was always there. Your existences were irreversibly intertwined.

You didn’t know why. You didn’t know how. You had no clue if there were others in the world who lived through multiple existences, or if any of them remembered each individual life the way you did. In no life had you ever dared ask, for fear of sounding crazy or being whisked away to the closest asylum.

In some lives you were close to him. In a few, you even grew up as childhood friends. You remembered those lives more clearly than most. One in particular that you remembered with a shocking clarity was England in the 1600s. Your family lived on and ran a small farm out in a tiny rural village. It had been a tough life, getting up at the brink of dawn every morning and not returning from the fields until the sun finally dropped behind the earth, but the hard work paid off and there was always a sufficient amount of food. You could still feel the wonderful sensation of the cool, crisp early morning air against your skin, even now.

Taehyung’s family had owned a bakery and every morning, just as you set out to work the fields, his mother would send him round to deliver bread in exchange for milk.

Even from a young age, you’d felt the pull towards him, that feeling which was now so painfully familiar. He was like a magnet, he could only be resisted for so long before you had no choice but to give in.

For some reason, you’d thought in that life that perhaps things would be different, perhaps it wouldn’t end in the same fashion that all the others had. You were no longer sure what had caused you to think this, maybe getting to spend so long by his side had lured you into a false sense of safeness. You weren’t as foolish now as you had been then. You’d learnt the hard way that there were never any exceptions.

You still dreamt about that life sometimes. You dreamt about the way the long honey coloured strands of wheat matched his eyes and the sound of his laughter getting caught between trees in the nearby forest as you played together. But more vividly, you were haunted by the shy, gentle first touch of your lips to his, you were tormented by that fleeting moment of happiness that had existed just before everything crumbled away to dust.

In other lives, however, Kim Taehyung was painfully out of reach. One of you would be of a much higher status than the other, meaning any attraction you felt was forbidden. You could recall a few lives where you ended up being born into a wealthy family and Taehyung had been employed by your family in some way. He had once been a gardener, and another time a cook, and you were fairly sure he had also been a stable boy at some point. But you hated those lives the most. Any interaction with him was dialled down to a minimum and it made your chest ache awfully. Those lives were made of nothing but longing glances and sad smiles.

Kim Taehyung never seemed to remember you. Unlike you, he seemed blissfully unaware of the fact that he had lived hundreds of times before, and that you had been present in each and every one of those existences.

Needless to say, it was heartbreaking to look into the eyes of the man you’d loved for centuries and for him to have absolutely no clue who you were. But it was even more heartbreaking to watch as he fell hopelessly in love with you. The dreadful cycle was doomed to repeat over and over, possibly for eternity.

Because the two of you could never be together.

In every life, without fail, the first kiss with Kim Taehyung was also always the last. You’d spent so many days and nights in complete anguish, wondering why the two of you had been cursed with such a cruel fate.

Because after every first kiss with Kim Taehyung, your body would burst into flames.

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The Flat
  • Sirius bought it in 7th year.
  • He was walking down a street in muggle London, smoking a cigarette, not really paying attention to where he was going or why. 
  • Then he saw it.
  • And he had to have it.
  • It was small, dusty, old and needed some work done, but damn did Sirius love that flat.
  • I had four bedrooms, a kitchen and dining room area with a living space coming off the end and two and half small bathrooms (when I say half, one was just a toilet and a sink).
  • It had these huge windows along just one wall. They were so big you could stand on the window sill at the bottom and just press your whole body against the glass, staring down onto the street below.
  • The house had a bright red door with small flecks of paint coming off it. 
  • The flat itself was on the second floor of the building, but even from the ground, staring at those huge windows and the For Sale sign, Sirius knew he wanted it bad. 
  • So he bought it two weeks later.
  • He didn’t tell anyone about it at first, he wanted it to be a surprise for when they left school.
  • But Sirius Black is terrible at keeping secrets, especially from his best friends and especially when he was excited.
  • So, one rainy weekend he took them all down to muggle London for a special trip.
  • ‘Sirius what is this all about. it’s cold.’ ‘Be quiet Wormy I need to show you something.’
  • ‘Sirius we have been walking for hours, please, my feet are tired.’ ‘James shut the hell up, we got off the bus thirty seconds ago.’
  • They rounded the corner, walked a few meters until Sirius was standing in front of the house, his arms spread wide and a huge grin on his face, like he was a small child showing his mother his latest drawing.
  • ‘Well, what do you think?’
  • ‘I think it’s raining and you have stopped in the middle of the street for no reason.’
  • ‘Fuck off Moony, I mean the house.’
  • ‘What? This house?’
  • ‘Yes this house you wanker, it’s mine.’
  • Peter, James and Remus all just stare.
  • ‘You bought a house…’
    Sirius dropped his arms.
  •  ‘Well no.. I bought a flat, second floor. I thought we could all live here. When we leave school…Together.’
  • Silence.James, never one for silences, or being able to handle the look of fear and apprehension on Sirius’ face, breaks into a smile.
  • ‘For real Pads?’
  • ‘Yeah.. for real..’
  • James clapped Peter on the back, still grinning. Peter smiles too. Then James runs up and hugs Sirius, very briefly and before the poor boy can respond, James has broken away and is running up to the red door, unlocking and sprinting inside, bounding up the stairs. A few seconds later he is seen in one of the enormous windows, still grinning as he jumps about motioning for the others to join him.
  • Peter laughs before running in after James. Remus remains standing and staring.
  • ‘You want me to move in with you?’
  • Sirius blushes.
  • ‘Probably should have made asking you more romantic Moony.. but I figured having us all here would be cute as well. But yeah, I want you to move in with me. And James. And Peter. I basically want you to move into Gryffindor Dormitory 2.0, only this time we get to share a bed.’
  • Remus is silent.
  • Sirius is worried.
  • ‘You don’t have to Rem. Maybe this is too fast. You can say no…’
  • ‘I love you, Sirius’
  • ‘I love you too, Moony.’
  • ‘But I get the left side of the bed.’
  • Sirius lets out a bark like laugh.
  • ‘Fine, but I’m choosing the sheets, your taste sucks ass.’
  • Moving into the London flat was all they could talk about for the next few months.
  • Sirius had never asked them to pay any rent, he had more than enough money after his Uncle had passed away and figured it was the least he could do.
  • But James had downright refused to let his friend pay for him, insisting he would split the rent 50/50 every month, no matter what protests Sirius put up.
  • Remus wanted to pay too, but Sirius didn’t even bother listening to that. Remus didn’t have the money to do it, not that Sirius cared, and he would always say, ‘Remus, we are going to be sharing a bed, theirs not really anything for you to pay for. Plus, you can get me a really cool birthday present to make up for it.’ Remus got him a motorbike that year.
  • A few weeks before the end of school, just when the boys had finished there exams, and reality had started to sink in, Sirius heard that Marlene’s parents hadn’t taken the whole ‘her dating Dorcas’ thing so well, and were no longer speaking to her. So the next day he went up to her, pulled her aside and told her that there was a bedroom waiting in a small flat in London that he was sure her and Dorcas would enjoy.
  • He’d never seen Marlene cry before that day.
  • A week later James walked into the dormitory, sweaty and gross from Quidditch practice, panting as he explained that he was in love with Lily Evans.
  • ‘Yeah no shit Potter, I heard you two last night.’
  • Sirius got a pillow thrown at his head. 
  • Then James explained that he was going to ask Lily to move in with him after they left school. That he wanted her in his life and in the flat. If Sirius was okay with that.
  • Sirius started laughing. James was confused.
  • ‘Prongs, you are the most oblivious boy I have ever met. Lily and I have been waiting for you to ask her to move in for the past two months.’
  • Sirius got another pillow thrown at his head. Then James ran off to go find Lily.
Smart Mouth

Pairing: Alexander x Reader

Requested?: Yeah buddy!

Prompt: “owo what’s this?- I mean can I request a Alex x Reader where they argue A LOT and Alex ends up confessing to R in one of the arguments pls??”

Words: 2.4k+ (my longest one so far)

Dedications: Huge thanks to my best friend @helplesslylins and my twin @secretschuylersister for helping through this long process and proofreading for me! I love you both <3 Also, @fragmentofmymind I know you’ve been waiting for this so here you go ;) Lastly, @shinymarbles I think this was your request but if it wasn’t then sorry for the tag!

(A/N: So glad this is finally done, I hope you enjoy!)

Originally posted by thetrashcannot


“You’re impossible, Alexander!” You groaned, rubbing your temples and turning away from the short-tempered man. It was barely 9 am and he was already at your throat over your choice of cereal. Well, the cereal wasn’t for you, it was for the guy who was currently lounging in your bed after a rather fun hook up.

“I’m just saying. Anybody who willingly asks for Cheerios must be clinically insane.” Alexander shrugged, sipping what was probably his 5th cup of coffee.

“You know, maybe if you didn’t chug coffee so much, you could reach the top shelf of a bookcase.” You brushed past Alexander, going down the hall towards your room.

“I’m not short! I’m vertically challenged!” He yelled after you, grumbling as you disappeared into the room.

Your relationship with Alexander was…complicated, for a lack of better words. You were friends, though based off the amount you guys argued anyone would think you hated each other. The bickering between you two was at an all time high as of recently and it was confusing you. Something as simple as a movie selection ended up in a 20 minute debate that only came to a conclusion thanks to Herc grabbing the remote and picking something. Alex’s usual light teasing tone was now masked with another emotion that you couldn’t decipher. There’s a clear shift and you weren’t sure how to go about it.

Soon after he finished his cereal and got your number, the man who’s name you now knew as James left your apartment. The door could barely shut before Alex was speaking again.

“Sex was probably mediocre at best.” He called over his shoulder, eyes on the computer as he typed away furiously. You sighed and rested your forehead on the door before turning to face him.

“It was actually great, want a play-by-play?” You sauntered over to him, standing in front of his computer and crossing your arms. Alex made a show of gagging before covering his mouth.

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Auntie Bells

by reddit user Pippinacious

Auntie Bells wasn’t really my auntie, or anyone else’s for that matter. I’m not sure she even had any real family at all. It was just what everyone called her. She’d been a fixture in the neighborhood since long before I was born and there wasn’t a single person who didn’t at least know of her.

She was something of a living legend; a crazy cat lady type without the cats. It wasn’t unusual to look out your window in the dead of night and see Auntie Bells shuffling down the street, big walking stick clutched in one hand, her tameless hair shining white in the moonlight. And if you didn’t see her, you’d hear her. Auntie Bells took her name from the bracelets she wore on both wrists, strands of twine run through a countless number of tiny bells that tinkled with her every movement.

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Omegaverse with omega blue bby because i’m weak

  • Eveyone is alpha except, of course, Lance and Pidge. 
  • So, you know, there’s too many alpha hormones going on in the castle and sometimes is just to much. Even Pidge, who hasn’t presented yet, is sometimes overwhelmed.
  • They think Lance is a beta.
  • Allura may be their Princess but Shiro is the official leader of the pack. This causes lots of trouble between them. Allura and Shiro respects each other, but when they disagree, is fucking hell in the ship.
  • Keith is really in touch with his instincs. Which is bad and good at the same time. Is perfecto for battle, but it also causes a lot of drifts between him and his teammates. He can’t help but try to fight Shiro’s commands, but the older alpha always wins and obliges him to submit.
  • Hunk is crazy strong, and Shiro is thankfull the paladin has a peaceful nature because there’s no way he could make him submit. If Hunk wanted it, he could be the alpha leader. But that’s not what his heart desire. Instead of using his ‘alpha-ness’ to lead, he uses it to break the fights between Shiro and Allura when they get to bad or to face enemies in order to protect others. 
  • Coran, even though he’s an alpha, submits easily to his princess and the paladins. Not really caring about things like fighting over control. No, he’s happy where he is. Taking care of everyone else.
  • Pidge doesn’t have her own scent yet, so Shiro has to nuzzle her like a pup to leave his own scent on her and make her smell like pack. 

                                     —(more under cut )— 


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Periculum [Part 1]

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

Pe`ric´u`lum noun. Danger;  risk.

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence and gory scenes

Word Count: 6,687

For the third time in the last ten minutes, your mouth fell open of its own accord, an unflattering–almost whale-like–yawn spilling from it. You rubbed a hand over your face, hoping to soothe the sting of tired eyes as your legs stretched beneath the small, round table. The soles of your feet thrummed with a burning ache inside of your white sneakers; the thanks you got for staying late on your twelve-hour shift. The stiff, overly starched material of your bland scrubs was beginning to irritate you, seeming too uncomfortable as it rubbed against your bare skin beneath.

You were exhausted–beyond so, frankly. You’d been exhausted before, many times, in fact. It had never felt like this. This was almost to the point of numbness–just not quite. Which is why, for the life of you, you couldn’t understand why you opted to pop into a small, corner street cafe, instead of just going home after your shift had ended. Maybe you just wanted some place to sit down.

“Um, excuse me?” A small, bashful voice came from beside you and it took all the strength in your body to force your head to loll upwards.

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anonymous asked:

Marichat "I really need you" writing prompt please

It had been a stupid decision really. An impulse. A chance to get back at Chloe while standing up for her partner. 

At the time it had been incredibly satisfying, walking into the classroom dressed head to toe in what might as well have been a billboard for Chat Noir merchandise. Chloe had of course glowered preparing to cut in with some sort of scathing retort until she had been cut off by Adrien’s absolutely delight at seeing her. Unwilling to risk upsetting her precious ‘Adrikins’ Chloe had to settle for glaring at Marinette for the remainder of the day while both Adrien and Nino had fawned over her, asking her for her thoughts and opinions on all things Chat Noir. 

It had been a lovely day, and worth the 6 hours of sewing and altering she had spent the night before. She had even officially getting Adrien’s phone number for her trouble. 

What she had not expected was for Chat Noir to somehow get the memo. 

She blamed Nino’s Instagram. 

That very night her oversized kitten had shown up at her window looking for attention from his “biggest fan.” 

Apparently he hadn’t forgotten her manufactured fawning from their minimal encounters together. 

Figuring he would be satisfied with a little ego stroking she had once again fallen into the role of starstruck fangirl- swooning at his flirtations and posing for selfies. To be fair, it had been nice to get some photos with her partner that she could actually display in her room. So she had smiled and cooed and figured that was the end of it. 

But then he kept coming back…

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It all points to you - pt.1

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Reader
Prompt:
Soulmate AU requested by anon.
One shot(x) or Chapter (x) pt.½ || (next part)
Word count:
2.3k
Warnings: none
Genre:
Fluff? Maybe a Tiny Speck of angst?
A/N: I’m tremendously sorry for all the tardiness!! University has started so it’s all gotten pretty hectic.. to make it to to you, I’ve decided this is gonna be a two chapter fic! The next chapter will be probably uploaded next week tho, as I have yet to finish it. Also, this isn’t some of my best work.. it really isn’t…so please bear with me. Sorry for any grammar/spelling errors!


The world seemed to work in odd, surprising ways. For every person existed another, tied together by an inconspicuous red string of fate. Those, no one could see, though they had no reason to. On each person’s wrist lay imprinted a compass, working restlessly all hour of every day of every year, hoping for the bearers’ attention to glance their way just at the right moment, just at the right second the string’s ends could intertwine.

At least half of the population was a result of this, of having been aware at the time their half crossed their path. They were, mostly, the married and the bearers of children.

Some say it destiny proven to be true. Yet in the back of most people’s minds flashed a thought very possible. That is, while they say that, one way or another, pairs will have more than one chance to meet, there are those who never stop wondering.

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anonymous asked:

An angsty 707 x MC ficlet with a fluffy end? Thank you! Hope it's not too much. Love your blog!🌸

Of course it’s not too much! Hope you like this one:) 


MC shut off the TV to answer her phone vibrating against the kitchen counter. When she saw the name flashing on the screen, she braced herself. “Hello?”

“Hello? MC?” The familiar voice came through the speaker.

“Did you need something, Saeyoung?” she asked, her tone sharper than she intended.

She heard him chuckle softly. “To be honest, my brother is driving me crazy at the moment. I feel like getting outside the house. Want to do something today?”

She suppressed the resurfacing guilt in her chest. “Um, maybe not today. I’m going out with Jaehee” she replied. He was silent on the other end, but she could feel the tension between them. “Hello?”

“That’s fine. Oh–Saeran is calling me now. Call me later, okay?” He hung up without another word. She was pretty sure she didn’t hear Saeran’s voice in the background, but she shrugged and put the phone down.

MC didn’t even notice the time that passed as she once again threw herself into answering emails for the next RFA party and finding more potential guests. So, when Saeyoung’s contact once again appeared on her phone, she was slightly confused. “Hey, didn’t you just call?” she asked.

“MC, that was hours ago. You probably forgot, because you were with Jaehee, right?”

She had almost forgotten the excuse she made. “Oh, was it? Yeah, I’m actually with her right now, so I’ll call you as soon as I get home.”

There was a short pause before she heard him scoff. “Funny you say that. I bumped into her two seconds ago at the grocery store. She didn’t mention you or your outing.”

MC shut her eyes and exhaled shakily. She opened her mouth to say something, but she had nothing that would defend her. “Um…”

“Are you avoiding me?”

She sighed and hoped he didn’t hear her shaky breath. “Saeyoung, why would I be avoiding you?”

“That’s what I’m asking you!” he burst. “I haven’t seen you in two weeks.”

“We were both really busy these two weeks. Get some rest, Saeyoung, I’ll see you on the weekend.You seem to need more time with your family.”

“What’s that supposed to–”

She ended the call before she could finish. She tossed her phone on the other end of the couch and curled her knees into her chest. She hated doing this to him…but Saeran was right. How did she possibly expect them to rebuild their relationship if she was getting in the way? She half expected her phone to continually vibrate, but it didn’t. She breathed in relief when it didn’t look like he would call back. She didn’t want to cause more problems than she had already.

Later that night, MC heard someone knocking on her door. A familiar voice was shouting her name from the other side. Saeyoung?

 Her fingers hesitated on the door knob. Maybe he would assume she was asleep and just go home.

“MC, I know you’re awake,” his muffled voice carried through the door. “You never go to bed before two in the morning.”

MC slowly opened the door, only allowing her eyes to be shown. “Shut up, I’m asleep.”

He let out a strangled laugh before becoming solemn again. “This isn’t the time to joke around!” he said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and sighed. “Can we talk?”

She nodded before opening the door. “Yeah, come in.”

He hesitated a few moments longer before entering. He shut the door behind him and exhaled sharply. “Okay, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he said. “And don’t give excuses. I want the truth, MC. We promised no secrets.”

“Nothing is wrong,” She paused. “I just wonder if you need some space. That’s all.”

He stared at her, his lips parted. He raked his hand through his red hair. “If I needed space, I would’ve told you! Where did you even get that idea? I didn’t push you away. I invited you over a lot–”

“That doesn’t mean you’re not tired all the time! You have enough thing to worry about. Having me will just be another problem, Saeyoung.” MC tried to steady her voice. She could almost feel a lump in her throat.

“What?” he breathed. “Problem? MC, I have never considered you a problem. Besides that, what exactly am I tired from? I don’t work half as much anymore.”

The room was silent for a moment. The words she was holding in for a long time finally escaped her mouth. “It’s Saeran.”

She watched as Saeyoung’s usual vibrancy drained from his face. This is what she dreaded. She cleared her throat and went on when he didn’t respond. “He mentioned that you’d been tired lately…and dealing with him was probably enough. Having to constantly entertain me on top of it…he said maybe I should take it into consideration.”

To her surprise, Saeyoung chuckled. “Is this why he’s been asking if you were coming over every day? The guy’s drowning in his guilt.” Saeyoung grabbed MC’s hand and yanked her into his embrace.

She was too stunned to return it. “What do you mean?” she mumbled into his shoulder. “Your brother usually avoids me. I don’t understand.”

“He was probably having a bad day. Next time just tell me if he says that. He usually doesn’t mean it in that way.” His voice was muffled in her hair. “Come to me first, mkay?”

She nodded. The weight she’d been carrying on her shoulders for the past two weeks dissipated with him so close. Finally, she snaked her arms around his torso. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m always worried that I’m always hindering you somehow. I guess it just got to me.”

He clicked his tongue and pulled back to look at her. “Where do you get these silly ideas in your head?” he said, gently rapping his knuckles against her forehead. “You and Saeran are all I have. If anything, you’re the one who pushes me forward, got it?”

Again, she nodded, releasing the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “So–er–are you free tomorrow?”

He tapped his chin. “The question is if you’re free. Two weeks of lost time, that’s at least fourteen hours we need to make up. So, I’ll pick you up at eight in the morning.”

She frowned. “Wait, what? But where are we going?”

He opened the door behind him. “Secret. But I can tell you it involves cake.”

With one last wink, he left her alone in the apartment, feeling lighter than she had all week. It wasn’t long after that her phone vibrated with an apologetic text from Saeran.

MC sighed and shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. Sometimes, Saeyoung could be a handful with his crazy shenanigans or his rare overly-serious behavior. But if there was one thing he knew how to do was fix things. Especially when it came to the people he cared for most. 


Check out our other headcanons~ Masterlist

The Secret (9)

prologue; part one; part two; part three; part four; part five; part six; part seven; part eight; part nine; part ten; part eleven; part twelve; part thirteen;

Baekhyun could feel his heartbeat pounding hard against his chest, loud and fast as he slowly weaved through the chairs towards you and a shy Zoe. He’d never felt this nervous for anything in his life, not even when he debuted and performed at his first showcase with the rest of EXO. He didn’t want to mess this up: his daughter was too important and this was his chance to make up for the years he’d lost.

He introduced himself cheerfully, trying not to let his nerves shine through his voice. He flashed his daughter a bright smile that he hoped would comfort her a little. On the inside however, his stomach was doing somersaults.

“I’m your dad.”

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ti-re-elintes  asked:

Drabble prompts part one: 27 & sterek?

“Don’t leave me alone with him, he’s got a murder-y face.”
That’s Just My Face Stiles
Also on ao3

Sometimes Stiles hated how loyal he was to his friends. If he hadn’t been so loyal to Scott he totally could have had sex in high school, but Isaac was Scott’s weird flirty friend and it would have broken Scott’s heart. 

That loyalty was why he was up at 2 am the night before his step sister’s wedding, frantically wrapping twine around mason jars. Allison, Lydia’s maid of honor, had sent Lydia to bed hours before, with promises of finished products in the morning. 

“Ally why are we doing this,” Stiles whined.

“Because we’re good friends and Lydia was about to have a nervous breakdown because someone managed to break all the centerpieces the night before her wedding,” Allison said, shooting Scott a glare that Stiles was glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of.

Stiles looked at Allison for a second before he elbowed Scott, who said, “Ally, I think we need to get you to bed.”

“We have to finish these,” Allison said, stifling a yawn.

“Stiles and Derek will, you have to be up to help Lydia get ready, all we have to do is put on pants,” Scott said.

“Wait! Don’t leave me alone with him, he’s got a murder-y face,” Stiles said, eyes darting quickly to Derek, Jackson’s best man and possible serial killer. 

“Shut up and keep working Stiles,” Derek said with a sigh. He didn’t even bother to look up at him, which told Stiles that Derek had possibly accepted their shared fate of crafting for the rest of the night OR he was plotting his murder.

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Title: Five Times I (Reader x Matt Murdock) 

Summary: Five times you almost told Matt Murdock you loved him and the one time you did 

Word Count: 1637

A/N: OK I’M SUPER EXCITED FOR THIS SERIES THING I’M STARTING! I hope you enjoy it :)

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

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A Way to You Again: Part 8

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count:  1456

Catch Up Here

Summary: Bucky and Y/N have been fairly successful at keeping their relationship hidden from the rest of the Avengers. That is… until Nat walks into the kitchen one night and finds Bucky kissing Y/N. While Y/N is relieved that their relationship is out in the open it soon becomes more complicated than she could have ever imagined.

Author’s Notes: Thanks to the lovely @melconnor2007 for the request.

Just brace yourselves, okay?

Originally posted by dailyclarke

Originally posted by wintersoulja

I knew if I wanted to keep the rest of the team from knowing the awkward drama that was unfolding between half of its members I would have to keep calm for appearances’ sake while trying the best I could to avoid Bucky. As we neared the dinner table I took my place between Sam and Steve.

“Not gonna sit with your boyfriend?” Sam asked with a wink. I sighed internally. I obviously was already off to a bad start. From the corner of my eye I could see Bucky shift slightly to look at me.

“Why would I do that when you’re here, Sam?” I countered with a flirty smile.  He chuckled into his beer as he shook his head.

“Better watch out Barnes or I might steal your girl,” Sam chortled as he raised his eyebrows playfully. I braced myself and looked in Bucky’s direction. There was no humor in his eyes as he stared unblinkingly at me.

“Wine?” Tony interrupted – pulling my attention away from Bucky.

I smiled at him warmly as I nodded my head. He poured a small amount and was about to leave before I placed my hand gently on his. “Tony, you might as well top it off,” I suggested. He laughed as he shook his head and poured me more.

“You’re usually not one to drink in excess like the rest of us,” Tony chuckled as he looked at me inquisitively.

“People change,” I shrugged as I lifted the glass to my lips – looking directly at Bucky. His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as I turned away and offered my attention to Tony who was diving headfirst into our meeting while we ate.


“Y/N, it’s your turn to clean the dishes!” Sam proclaimed with a slap on my back. I felt a small surge of panic. Bucky could easily corner me in the kitchen and start the conversation that I was already talking myself out of having.

I groaned as I got up from the table and began collecting everyone’s dishes. Nat had luckily excused herself quickly after eating so I didn’t have to force a pleasant interaction with her. As I neared where Bucky sat and reached for his plate he mumbled, “I’ve got it.” With that, I spun on my heel with the empty plates in hand and made my way straight to the kitchen with Bucky following closely behind.

We began our task in silence. I washed the plates and handed them to Bucky to dry – never taking my eyes away from what I was doing. The tension between us was palpable, but I refused to be the first to speak. As I handed him the last plate his hand brushed against mine causing me to nearly drop it as I jerked back. I turned to look at him and saw the hurt that filled his eyes. “Y/N, I…” he began, but I held my hand up. I was more than a little tipsy from all the wine I had had with dinner. It was making it increasingly difficult for me to hold my resolve.

“I… I can’t… not tonight,” I finally managed to say.

“Then when? Y/N, I need to explain,” he added as panic seeped through his voice.

“You’re right. You need to explain, but not tonight Bucky. For one night I don’t want to cry over you. I just want to have a nice night with my friends. Is that too much to ask?” I added angrily.

“Everything okay?” Steve asked as he leaned casually in the entryway to the kitchen.

“Yeah, Steve. Bucky was just finishing up,” I added as I threw the sponge back into the sink and walked out of the kitchen with Steve walking beside me.

“Are you really okay?” He asked under his breath.

“Yeah – I just… I drank too much and I just want one night with all of us together before I fuck it all up,” I muttered miserably. Steve wrapped his arm around my shoulder and gave me a light squeeze.

“Well luckily for you its movie night,” he said as we strolled into the common room.

“And we’re watching The Hangover!” Sam shouted as he held up the dvd case. I groaned as I rolled my eyes playfully. In all honesty, this was exactly what I needed.

Steve and I settled ourselves onto the couch. I secretly prayed that Bucky wouldn’t sit by me, but given the fact that the only free seat in the room was beside me there was no way he could get out of it— at least not without drawing unwanted attention to us.  A few minutes went by before Bucky strolled out of the kitchen. He scanned the room looking for a seat and saw the only one open was next to me. He casually grabbed my favorite blanket for movie nights before making his way to the couch and sitting uncomfortably close to me. Of course, for the others he was still my boyfriend so nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“I can take it from here, Steve,” Bucky whispered, a little too intensely, prompting Steve to remove his arm from around my shoulders. Bucky casually replaced it with his – holding on to me a little too tightly. “I brought your blanket,” he whispered as he spread it over us. I grunted softly in reply. My intake of wine was making me tired, but I was also acutely aware of Bucky’s fingers gripping my arm, and the warmth of his body as he sat next to me. I had been afraid of this – being around him and becoming intoxicated by his presence. It was so easy for it to happen, and I suddenly found myself trapped – unwilling and unable to break our contact. Maybe it was the wine, or the lonely nights at the cottage that caused my sudden lapse in self control, but for a few moments I allowed myself to forget everything that had happened… just so I could feel his comfort again. I rested my head softly on his shoulder and felt his small sigh as his fingers caressed my skin under the blanket. My body relaxed as my heartbeat slowed.

As I drifted to sleep I wondered if it was possible for us to find a way back to each other.


I blinked wearily to a strange sound coming from the other room. I vaguely remembered falling asleep with my head on Bucky’s shoulder, and him carrying me to my bed. I heard the noise again – this time it was louder and longer. I sat up rubbing my eyes. With a surge of panic, I realized that the noise was coming from Bucky’s room and, more importantly, that it was Bucky. I jumped out of my bed and made my way to the hallway. As I pushed his bedroom door open the sight caused my breath to catch in my throat.

“Y/N,” he called wearily as Nat held him to her.

“Oh… I’m… Okay…” I muttered as I spun on my heel and quickly retreated. I could hear Bucky get up from the bed and follow me. I didn’t want to go back to my room so I walked the long hall to the elevator – hopeful that I could get the doors to close before Bucky could catch up. I was just in luck – I pushed the button to the rooftop balcony as the doors closed on Bucky’s panic-stricken face. I sighed with a sudden surge of relief.

“FRIDAY,” I said to the empty elevator.

“Yes, Ms. Y/N?” FRIDAY responded.

“Don’t let Sargent Barnes know where I am,” I responded flatly.

“Yes, Ms. Y/N.”

Stark Tower was expansive. With any luck Bucky would give up his search and go back to his room – giving me time to think. I wearily dragged my feet as I exited the elevator. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. So this was it – after all this time, after all of my running – I had never been able to admit to myself that I wanted to come back to Bucky and make everything okay…. but now in the face of losing him to someone else, I could? My heart sank as I laid myself on the couch in the sunroom that overlooked the New York City skyline. I felt miserable as tears spilled over my swollen eyelids. For some reason what I had just witnessed seemed like a bigger betrayal than Bucky not telling me about Nat in the first place. It was intimate and personal – something that I had always helped him with, and in the span of a week I had been replaced. I hugged myself tightly as I laid on the couch and cried myself to sleep.


Tags:

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Family

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Request: “Could You Write Something Where The Reader Pretty Much Grows Up With The Winchesters And Her Mom Dies And So They Basically Adopt Her And The Reader Develops Feelings For Dean But Doesn’t Think He Feels The Same Way About Her? Thank You!”

Warnings: Mild swearing, death, mentions of sex. 

Word Count: 2009

Notes: Since you didn’t really specify any ending I just winged it, hope you enjoy anon! -Dani (You’re welcome for proofreading this, Dani! -Lottie) (Also Y/M/N means “your mom’s name”)

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Amelia (Part 1 of 3)

MASTERLIST | Part 2

Pairing: Lin-Manuel x Reader

Summary: You technically met Amy first.

Note: Untitled Garbage Mystery Fic is no longer Untitled or a Mystery!

Okay, so this was initially gonna be a small thing and then it kinda got away from me so it’s a slightly less small thing? I basically needed to write something that wasn’t academic for once in my life and then this happened (with a great deal of help from @fragmentofmymind who is the greatest and listens to me every time I hit a metaphorical writing speed bump)

It’s far from the best thing I’ve ever written but I’ve had fun in this universe so far (and hope you do too). Thanks for being patient with me, my dudes. I LOVE YOU LOTS.

Word Count: 11,336 (shout out to slow burn lmao)


There’s a quiet power in wielding a camera, a strength in the ability to either capture the world in its purest truth or manipulate it into something brand new. You had learned this at a young age, stealing your grandmother’s Polaroid camera and discovering how different the image you could create would look in different types of light and more or less motion, even if you didn’t fully understand why it worked the way that it did.

It became a part of you, filling your heart with a curiosity for telling stories through images. The photo you caught of your mother as she laughed quietly to herself in the kitchen, a snapshot of your best friend right at the moment she caught you taking it, a poorly framed photo you accidentally took of yourself while trying to change the roll of film.

It was all magical to you, and it never really stopped feeling like you’d tricked the universe into allowing such beauty to exist every time you snapped a one-of-a-kind photograph.

A camera is built out of complicated technology. The mechanics of focus and aperture, f-stops and shutter speed were more than science and math to you–they were your doorway into a new world, the look of which you got to decide.

Your hands felt most comfortable when stabilizing a camera, your eye most at home behind a viewfinder, your fingers their most graceful as you pulled focus to a new subject–

“Are you even listening to me?”

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81. Drunk

So…


I know it’s a little early but if I don’t publish this, then I can’t work on anything else. Just the way my mind works. And I’m just so excited to be a part of @bucky-plums-barnes 100 Banging Kinks for Bucky’s Birthday Project!


Happy Birthday, Old Kinky Man!


Warnings: SMUT. Oral (female receiving). And swearing.


Word count: 1.6k


A/N: Guys, this is my first proper smut so any feedback would be appreciated. If it’s crap, tell me to stop. If it’s ok please tell me so!

Originally posted by hothothotgg



You woke up confused with the commotion happening in your bedroom. You lived alone and the only person who had a spare key was your boyfriend, one and only James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, Captain America’s best friend and recent villain-turned-hero. You gave him the key in case of emergency. Apparently late night shenanigans were what he considered an emergency.

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IKEA trip - William Nylander

A/N: HOPE YOU LIKE ITTTTTT!

Word count: 1207

Warnings: nope.

Master list

Originally posted by leafbabies


“Will, remind me why I am here.” You complain, pushing the cart behind him.

“Because you are a girl and I need your good taste.” He says, stopping in front of a pre-made living room.

Will and you have been friends for two years, and oh, doesn’t the word ‘friends’ hurt. You have been in love with William for what it seems like an eternity, but he is too focused on hockey and hockey and hockey and nothing but hockey, to actually think about love.

“Why being a girl means that I have good taste?” You ask, shaking your head at a blanket he is looking.

“Because girls have better taste in general.” He answers, putting it down with a pout. “And I want my house to be nice.”

William has bought a pretty nice maisonette after his three years contract extension with the Toronto Maple Leafs and he decided that the house would feel more like home, like Sweden home, if he got the furniture for it in IKEA. The house is completely empty aside from the bathrooms and kitchen, that are fully furnitured.

“So instead of paying an interior designer to do the job you thought that I could do it.” You say, pointing at a dark dining room table. “Without even paying me a penny.”

“I’ll buy you a plate of Swedish meatballs when we are done.” He jokes and you are about to slap his shoulder, but he catches your hand before it makes contact.

Will and you walk around the store, grabbing small pieces like lamps, glasses, plates, silverware… and taking pictures of the bigger pieces of furniture so you can find them later on the warehouse part of the store.

“What does ‘sanning’ mean?” You ask him, looking at the tag of one of the plates you have chosen.

“Truth.” He says, smiling at me.

“And ‘variera’?” You ask again, reading another tag.

“Vary.” He translates for you again, grabbing a set of spatulas and looking at them.

You nod, looking at more stuff for his kitchen. You know that he isn’t going to cook that much, but you are trying to get everything that it’s convenient to have. You show him a big bowl that could be used for salads or snacks and he nods, smiling when he sees the name of the container.

“What is it so funny?” You wonder, putting it in the cart.

“ ‘Vargaden’ means everyday life.” He explains and you nod again. Will loves to speak Swedish to you, but just because he knows that you don’t understand a word and it amuses him. “Come on min kära, let’s get all the heavy duty and go home.”

It takes you another half an hour to get all the pieces of furniture and pay. You get the smaller things in Will’s car and arrange the delivery of the couches, tables and beds for tomorrow.

Will drives us to his new home, which is in much better neighborhood than yours. He parks his car in the underground garage and you two make three or four trips up and down the building to carry everything to his house.

“So, where are my meatballs?” You ask, putting the last bag of stuff down and rubbing your sore hands from carrying stuff.

“I want Thai food.” He shrugs, looking at the boxes, trying to decide what to put together first. “What should we put together first? The bedside tables or that bookshelf?”

“We? Uh uh, blondie.” You say, sitting on the floor and taking your shoes off. “I am not putting together anything. I am just here for the food.”

“Well, order some take out if you are just going to sit on your pretty butt all night.” He huffs, choosing the bookshelf’s box and starting to open it and taking all the pieces out.

You order some Thai food for both of you and sit on the floor with your back against the wall. Willy reads the instructions and tries to follow them, but two people are required to put it together.

“(y/n), please.” He begs after spending half an hour trying after giving up. “Help.”

“What are you going to give me in return?” You wonder, smirking at him.

“Vad du vill (whatever you want), (y/n)” He says in Swedish and you raise an eyebrow. “Just help me.”

“I want you to stop speaking to me in a language I don’t understand.” You complain, getting on your feet and walking towards him, helping him with the bookshelf.

By the time you finish working on the piece of furniture the food has gone cold and you two are sweaty and tired.

“Beer?” He asks, grabbing a couple bottles from the fridge and handing you one of them.

“Tack (Thank you).” You answer him and he smiles at you, loving your accent.

“I need to teach you more Swedish, it sounds good in your mouth.” He says, making you blush furiously.

“Then teach me.” You agree and he smirks, raising his beer.

“Öl.” He says, pointing at the bottle on his hand.

“Öl is beer?” You wonder and he nods. “Okay, next.”

“Hallå.” He says and you repeat, making him laugh. “That’s ‘hello’.”

“Next.” You request.

“Snygg.” You mimic his pronunciation, but he doesn’t translate it for you.

“What’s that?” You say and he shrugs.

“Take a wild guess?” He challenges you and you chew on your lower lip.

“Put it on a sentence for me?” You ask and he nods, thinking about it for a second.

“You are snygg.” He says and you frown, thinking about every mean thing that snygg could be.

“Dumb?” You ask and he rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Short? Strong-headed?”

“Beautiful, (y/n). You are beautiful.” He says and you blush again. “Another?” He asks and you nod, looking down so he cannot see how red your face is. “Jar älskar dig.”

“That’s a long one.” You protest and he gives you an encouraging look. “Jar älska di?”

“Jar älskar dig.” And you repeat it, not getting it quite right but close enough.

“What does it mean?” You whisper.

William doesn’t speak at first, looking straight at your eyes and you feel like you are getting lost in those blue eyes. Will leans in, his lips just an inch away from yours.

“I love you.” He whispers back and you feel your heart flutter.

“It is what it means or what you mean?” Your voice is so quiet that you are not sure if he has heard you or not.

“Both.” He says, his lips crashing with yours.


“I hope that your new bed is more comfortable than this.” You whisper, rubbing circles on the skin of his chest.

You are laying on a blow out mattress, both of you wrapped around each other. Will is playing with strands of your hair, twisting and wrapping them around his fingers.

“It’s a good thing that you love all the furniture I’ve got.” He chuckles, massaging your scalp softly.

“Yeah well, you have good taste.” You mock him and he laughs.

“I definitely do.” He says, putting his finger under your chin and making you look at him, leaning in for a soft kiss.

“Here For You” - Stiles Stilinski

Originally posted by bubblegumbubblesblog

(not my gif)

REQUEST: Stiles x reader with late night conversations.

Hello?” A deep voice said through the phone.
“Did I wake you?” (Y/N) asked.
No.” Stiles replied, suppressing a yarn.
“Liar.” (Y/N) chuckled.
It was late at night and (Y/N) couldn’t sleep. Like most nights, (Y/N) wouldn’t dare close her eyes knowing that nightmares would come and haunt her in her sleep. So, instead of waiting around and drowning in her own thoughts, she would always call the same person – her best friend since kindergarten, Stiles Stilinski.
“Can you come over?” (Y/N) asked the boy while bitting her nails.
Is everything okay? Are you alright?” Stiles asked, concerned.
“Yeah. I just can’t sleep.” (Y/N) mumbled. “I know it’s nothing, so it’s okay if you don’t wanna come over.” She added. She felt bad for depriving her best friend of sleep just because she couldn’t get any. She knew it wasn’t fair. But she also knew that Stiles wouldn’t mind, because she had done the same thing for him many times.
I’ll be there in five minutes.” Stiles declared before he hung up the phone.
(Y/N) was in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. She opened the door and greeted Stiles with a bear hug.
“Thank you.” (Y/N) mumbled into his shoulder.
“Are you sure you’re okay? I think you might have a fever.” Stiles chuckled as he pressed his cold hand on (Y/N)’s forehead before she gently pushed it away.
“What? So I can’t hug my best friend now?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes.
“Of course you can. It’s just, you’ve never been the hugging type.” Stiles declared as he walked into his best friend’s house. He frowned.
“What’s that smell?” He asked before (Y/N) could react to his last statement.
“I’m making pancakes.” (Y/N) said proudly as she walked into the kitchen and sat on the counter. Stiles stood before her. He has always been taller than her, so, even when (Y/N) was sat on her kitchen counter, Stiles was still a few inches taller than her.
“(Y/N), it’s one in the morning.” Stiles frowned.
“So? I told you I couldn’t sleep. Cooking makes me feel better. It’s relaxing.” (Y/N) shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. Stiles let out a small laugh before a serious expression appeared on his face.
“Are you having nightmares again?” He asked, his brown eyes set on (Y/N)’s. “And remember that I can tell when you’re lying.” He added seriously.
“Fine.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes as she came down of the kitchen counter to check on the pancakes. “Yes, I’m having nightmares again. That’s why I’m really determined to keep my eyes open tonight.”
Stiles went to stand next to her. His eyes never leaving her. He was still frowning.
“(Y/N). You know you’re gonna have to sleep eventually.” Stiles told his best friend. He remembered when (Y/N) had to check herself in the hospital last year for sleep deprivation.
“Stiles, I’m fine, really.” (Y/N) replied.
Stiles didn’t look convinced but he didn’t want to make his best friend angry, so he changed the subject.
“Where is your dad?” Stiles asked while helping (Y/N) put the finished pancakes into a plate.
“He is working late tonight.” (Y/N) said. “He’s been taking a lot of night shifts at the hospital lately.” She added.
(Y/N)’s father was a surgeon at Beacon Hills Memorial, where Scott’s mother worked as a nurse. Stiles knew that (Y/N)’s father was less and less present at home lately, and he hated the fact that his best friend was alone most nights, especially if she started having nightmares again. That’s why he was always willing to come over when she asked him to, even if it was in the middle of the night.

“Hey! That’s not fair! You’re always the one who chooses the movie!” (Y/N) complained while Stiles was sat on the floor next to a pile of DVDs.
“That’s because you have awful tastes when it comes to movies.” Stiles retorted.
“That’s not true! We like the same stuff!” (Y/N) replied as she let her body fell onto her bed.
“Then shut up and let me choose.” Stiles laughed.
“Fine.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and took a bite of a fresh-cooked pancake.
“And don’t eat all the pancakes.” Stiles declared and threw a pillow at (Y/N).
“Hey!”
“Okay, found one!” Stiles ignored (Y/N)’s complaints about receiving a pillow in the face and inserted the DVD he picked into the DVD player. Then he went to sit on the bed next to his best friend, grabbing a pancake as he did so.
(Y/N), who made herself another cup of coffee, went to drink it when Stiles got a hold of the mug and set it on the bedside table next to him.
“Seriously? I asked you if you wanted a cup and you said no.” (Y/N) declared.
“I don’t want coffee and you should stop drinking so much of it at three in the morning.” Stiles stated, looking at the TV.
“Please stop acting like that.” There was a hint of anger in the girl’s voice which made Stiles’s eyes set on her.
“Like what?” He frowned.
“Like I might die any second.”
“I’m just worried about you. What’s wrong with that?” Stiles said defensively.
“What’s wrong is that I asked you to come over to make me feel better, not worse. I won’t sleep, okay? I won’t let the nightmares ruin my life again. You don’t know how horrible it is to see the people you love die in front of you everytime you close your eyes. It’s messing with my head!” (Y/N)’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m so familiar with those nightmares by now that it feels like reality. And I hate feeling like this.”
(Y/N) expected Stiles to yell at her, to tell her that she was being ridiculous because she knew she was. She knew she had to put herself together and stop being so afraid of falling asleep. But instead, Stiles pulled her against his chest and closed his arms around her small body. She didn’t cry, she just closed her eyes and appreciated how safe she felt in Stiles’s arms.
“I’m sorry.” She declared.
“Don’t be.” Stiles said as he stroked her hair. “I’m here for you. Always.” He let go of her and looked at her. She looked very tired and he wished he could do something to help her feel better. “If there is anything I can do to help-”
“Stay.” She cut him off. “Can you stay the night, please?”
“Sure. I’m not going anywhere.” Stiles declared and he kissed her forehead.

“This movie sucked.” (Y/N) confessed while watching the closing credits of the movie Stiles had chose to watch an hour earlier.
“Do you ever stop complaining?” He rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t so terrible.” He shrugged.
“Right. As if I couldn’t tell that you didn’t like it either.” (Y/N) laughed.
“Fine. It wasn’t as good as I remembered it.” Stiles confessed. “But still, I’ve seen worse.” He added, yarning.
(Y/N) rolled her eyes and tried to suppress a smile. She got up and picked up the empty plate and her now cold cup of coffee and put it on her desk, too lazy to go down to the kitchen.
“You can sleep in my bed, I don’t mind.” (Y/N) stated when she saw Stiles got up from the bed.
“Are you sure?” Stiles frowned.
(Y/N) turned around to face her best friend, she raised an eyebrow.
“Stiles, we’ve slept in the same bed before.”
“We were ten.” Stiles added.
“Well, I mean, if you’re uncomfortable with it, I can still-”
“No.” Stiles interrupted. “I mean, are you comfortable with it?” He asked, nervously.
“Of course, I am. I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.” (Y/N) laughed a little. Stiles nodded.

(Y/N) was already wearing her night clothes – a short and oversized t-shirt which originally belonged to her father. Stiles was wearing his tracksuit and a black t-shirt but didn’t seem to mind sleeping fully dressed. He crawled under the warm blanket and made himself comfortable. (Y/N) was still standing by her desk, reluctant to go to sleep even if Stiles’s presence made her feel safer. But she knew that even her best friend was unlikely to protect her from her own dreams. She looked at the clock, it was now half past four in the morning and she knew that she had ran out of options or excuses to stay awake.
“It’s okay, (Y/N).” Stiles said while he watched his best friend staying still on the other side of the room.
(Y/N) sighed and laid down on the other side of the bed. She was staring at the ceiling while Stiles was staring at her.
“We can keep talking if it makes you feel better.” Stiles said.
“No, it’s okay. I don’t want to keep you awake, you must be exhausted. It was already selfish of me to ask you to come over again so late at night. I’ll just let you sleep now.” (Y/N) declared as she nervously played with her fingers.
“Okay, so, what do you want to talk about?” Stiles asked.
“Stiles-”
“I will not go to sleep until you do.” The boy said, serious.
“Are you blackmailing me?”
“No, I’m being here for you.” Stiles corrected.
(Y/N)’s eyes moved from the ceiling to her best friend. The lamps on her bedside tables were still lit and Stiles saw his friend frowning.
“What did I do to deserve you?” She asked, honestly wondering how Stiles never got tired of her after all these years.
“You hung out with me in kindergarten when everyone but Scott thought I was a weirdo.” Stiles said with a smile.
“You are a weirdo.” (Y/N) laughed.
“So are you. That’s why we get along so well.” He replied.

(Y/N) looked at him for a second. Then, she moved closer to him and rested her head on his chest as he closed his arms around her body once more. He was surprised when he found her hugging him again and he realised how much she needed it – because she never was a big hugger.
“Promise me you’ll never leave me. I don’t know what I would do without you, Stiles.” (Y/N) murmured.
“I promise. Besides, I need you more than you need me.” The teenage boy said as his grip tighten around (Y/N)’s small body.
“Yeah, I doubt that.” (Y/N) chuckled.
“Shut up.” Stiles said sarcastically.
They both laughed. (Y/N) started to feel her eyelids become heavy. Her eyes had been burning with fatigue all night and she wanted to let herself drift to sleep without thinking about what horrible things she would see once asleep. The last thing she felt was Stiles’s lips on her head and the last thing she heard was her best friend telling her that he loved her. She wanted to say it back but no word left her lips as she felt the darkness surround her and her demons take control of her thoughts.

She had fallen asleep, and once again, she wished she hadn’t.