curls for his girl

friendship bracelets // stiles stilinski

Summary: Stiles & Y/N discover that true love isn’t anything like they expected it to be

Requested: no

Pairing: Stiles & Y/N

Warning: yes, mature language, themes, & smut

Masterlist

When he was 3 years old, he watched in amazement as the big truck pulled up to the curb of the suburban neighborhood he called home. With his nose pressed against the glass he watched two men step out of the truck and start unloading boxes onto the driveway. The simple action fascinated him for reasons he couldn’t explain.

The sun caught the exterior of the bright red minivan that pulled into the driveway, causing him to squint. He couldn’t believe his eyes when a girl hopped out of the backseat.

“Woah.” He mumbled against the glass, his hot breath causing it to fog up. Quickly wiping it away, he watched as she danced around the lawn while the rest of her family started moving boxes. Her pigtails bounced behind her as she ran around.

“Stiles? What are you doing?” His dad asked curiously. Before he could answer, his father noticed the moving truck and family moving in across the street. “Wanna go say hi?” His father offered, placing a hand on the small boy’s shoulder. Nodding furiously, he smiled up at his father. 

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Reasons why I love Francis Abernathy
  • “ ‘Cubitum eamus?’ ‘What?’ 'Nothing.’ He transferred the cigarette to his left hand and offered the right one to me. It was bony and soft-skinned as a teenage girl’s.”
  • “Boo,’ he said. We both jumped back. Francis smiled thinly, light glinting off his fraudulent pince-nez. Cigarette smoke curled from his nostrils.”
  • drives an old convertible Mustang very very carefully
  • “Good girl,’ said Francis, winding the bandages around the arch of her foot. Like most hypochondriacs, he had an oddly soothing bedside manner. 'Look at you. You didn’t even cry.’ 'It didn’t hurt that much.’ 'The hell it didn’t,’ Francis said. 'You were really brave.”
  • “Francis, barefoot and still in his bathrobe, stepped precariously over rocks and branches, balancing his glass of ginger ale. Once we got to the lake he waded in, up to his knees, and beckoned dramatically like Saint John the Baptist”
  • such a drama queen
  • “Francis sent me a six-page letter about how bored he felt, and how sick he was, and virtually everything he’d had to eat since I’d seen him last.”
  • he cooks fancy elaborate meals for his friends
  • “this man was not Voltaire we killed. But still. It’s a shame. I feel bad about it.”
  • very good kisser even if NO ONE APPRECIATES IT
  • tastes like tea and cigarettes
  • dresses like a victorian age fashion icon
  • that scene where he sits on a windowsill and drunkenly eats maraschino cherries at 6 am
  • “Somebody – one of those damned toddlers, I guess – got my favorite scarf off the bed and wrapped up part of a chicken leg in it. That nice silk one with the pattern of clocks on it. It’s just ruined.”
  • has a bad habit of burning furniture with his forgotten cigarettes
  • signed his suicide letter with “Cheerily, Francis”
  • he is absolutely covered in freckles
  • “asparagus is in season”
Sweet Girl

Shoutout to @permanentcross and @stylesunchained for all the help and listening to me whine.
This is my first piece of writing, so please be nice!

-

You knew this was a bad idea. Going to Harry’s house this evening, when you know full well you’ve been slowly growing feelings for him. Feelings for your friend, one of your best friends, feelings that shouldn’t be there.

You’ve been friends for years, but now he’s around more and you’ve spent more time together, you’ve began to feel that warm tingle inside your belly whenever you see him. You have to suppress a smile whenever anyone mentions his name to you. When you see a text from him you all but scramble to pick your phone up and reply immediately. You’ve fallen for him. And that is why going back to his house, just the two of you, is a bad idea.

You’d been out that evening with a small group of friends for dinner and drinks. Catching up, laughing and sharing bottles of champagne. Time had flown by and you’d all been saying your goodbyes before you went to call a taxi.

“You can’t get a cab all the way back to yours at this time, love. It’s bloody miles away.” Harry mutters, leaning over your shoulder to see the taxi company’s number on your phone.

“Don’t have a lot of choice, do I?” You say, turning round to face him.

“Come back to mine, I’ll drive you home in the morning.” He says so casually, not knowing the feelings you’ve got festering deep inside. You feel your stomach twist into a tight knot that feels as if it could never be undone, no matter how hard you try. You want to say no, because you know spending time together alone in such close proximity would just make matters worse for you, make your feelings grow more, even though right now you don’t think that it’s possible. But you know if you say no that he’d fight it, and right now you’re too tired to fight anything alongside the internal battle you’re fighting with yourself.

“Alright then, cheers.” You politely smile, despite your hesitations, before saying your final goodbyes to your friends and go with Harry to where his driver is parked.

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3

The Need (Joker x Reader)

“Imagine the Joker falling for you when you’re taken hostage during a bank heist.”

Requested by Anon: “Can you write something where the joker meets a girl while him and Harley are out causing mayhem and the joker can’t get the girl out of his head? And he eventually leaves Harley for her?”

A/N: I almost made this a two part fic because I didn’t want it do be too long. But I like how it came out. I hope you guys like it too!~

Warnings: Violence, swearing, falling for people who probably aren’t good for you.


Why did banks always have such long lines? You’d think that they would be a bit more efficient.

“Don’t you just hate long lines?”

“Sorry, what?” You blinked a few times before you realized that the man in front of you was speaking to you. He repeated himself and smiled at you, to which you smiled in return. “Yeah, the lines are usually what keep me from making frequent trips here.”

He laughed and nodded in agreement. “Same here. The reason I’m even here today is for my son.”

“Oh really?” You looked around, “where is he?”

“At the hospital, he just had surgery so I’m withdrawing some money to go buy him something to keep him occupied while he’s recovering.”

Your smile grew a bit, “that’s kind of you. How old is he?”

“He’ll be 6 next month.”

Before you could respond, the blast of an explosion threw everyone in the line onto the floor. The room was engulfed in smoke and debris from the explosion. As the dust started to settle, you could see the two figures responsible.

“Listen up, everybody!” The female voice called out. “You’re all going to do as we say and if you don’t, well…we’ll have to kill ya.” The woman walked towards you and the others who had been line. “Ya got that?”

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 The Wrong Strain by @colubrina

Everyone knew what veela were. Veela were magical creatures, breathtakingly beautiful, who captivated men with a single look. It would have been nice to have been that strain. Instead, Hermione Granger was infected by another. Instead of captivating all men, she was captivated by one. She’d die without him. She was already in almost constant pain.

Genuine

Bit on the ‘what if’ side of things, but I think we would all want a girl like this for Harry, in one way or another. (On a side note this is my all time favorite gif of him) 

Let me know what you thought, here, loves! I am accepting requests :-)

Originally posted by 1dcaradelevingne-blog


Harry had a habit of keeping you close.

Always, but most especially when it came to being out in public. The fans, well, it was no surprise that despite their dedication they were a bit much at times. Not just with their words, but their actions too. He wanted to protect you from it, because as much as he loved his fans, he loved you more.

He kept you tucked tightly to his side whenever he could, whether it was you two grabbing some food or simply leaving for a quick stroll, he didn’t like you being too far away. It was this fear that had kept him from admitting his feelings to you and from taking the jump from really good friends to significant others. His life was crazy, and he didn’t want that to affect you. Even when you two had been the best of friends, he had kept you hidden from the public eye. You were his, and his alone, private, a hidden treasure of sorts and he wasn’t quite ready to share you with anyone else, let alone the world.

Even today, he’s gripping your hand a bit too tightly as you struggle to keep up with his long strides. Admittedly, it’s a bit crazier than usual. It’s one of the boys’ biggest concerts on this tour, which is exactly why Harry had insisted on flying you out for it. It’s not that you hadn’t seen the boys perform before, you had. You’d been backstage at the X factor and with Harry every step of the way since then. However, you had never been to a show in the U.S., and Harry knew better than to listen to your protests of the plane ticket being too expensive. “Doesn’t matter, love. Want yeh here.”

It really came as no surprise then,  that the fans are lined up outside the hotel in a gregorious multitude, and that the roped polls and army of men dressed in black and appointed to your protection  looked significantly tiny in comparison.  The concert isn’t until tomorrow, the boys getting a much needed day of rest before. Or, they had planned.

You can’t help but look around in awe at all the commotion. Despite the lack of red carpet under your feet, you feel like you are indeed walking one. The fans are screaming left and right, startling bright signs waving around carelessly in exchange for even a second of the boys’ attention. There’s crying too, a lot in fact. You can hear it from all different directions as breathless pleas and sobs echo back and forth around you. The other boys were already inside the hotel lobby, behind the glass doors and away from the quiet roar of the crowd. They had opted to make Harry and you sit in the very back seats that the car offered, something about not wanting to lose lunch being their reason. Harry’s still stringing you along, mindful that you’re taking it all in but hurrying to get the pair of you inside as one of the bodyguards on his right is talking to him about god knows what.  His head is low as he listens intently to what the man is saying. When Harry’s career had first taken off, he would come home every once in 

awhile and be ecstatic about the fans, telling you stories about how heartfelt they were. It was so endearing to watch him, his green eyes alight as he recalled to you the moments that stood out to him in the sea of press releases and talk shows and signings. As time went on, though, it wasn’t that his stories diminished but rather the light in his eyes did. He still had lots to tell you, but you knew Harry well enough to know something was wrong under the surface. 

“Already tired of the fame, Styles?” You had teased him with a  quirk of your eyebrow. 

His head had snapped up from his phone at that, eyebrows furrowed and forehead creased. “No. Never. Yeh know that, love. S’just…” He mumbled, trailing off as he closed his eyes and ran a hand down his face. 

You had frowned at that, leaning across the booth and grabbing his wrist in your fingers. 

“Harry, what is it?” You ask, dragging his hand away from his face. He sighs, opening the tired eyes you had been avoiding to acknowledge since he came back. 

“They’re lovely, the fans. I would never question that, yeh know? We wouldn’t be anything without em. I- we, owe them so much.” He rambles, eyes narrowed as he tries to find the right words. 

“Harry.” You whisper softly, releasing his wrist to intertwine your fingers with his. “Look at me.” You demand after a quick beat. 

He does, blinking at you. 

You shake your head at him gently, “You don’t have to convince me love, I know exactly who you are. S’me you’re talking too, remember?”

His shoulders had sag a bit at that and after a little more coaxing he had admitted to you that it was exhausting at times, but there isn’t a thing he would change.

“Harry, you’re entitled to be tired. You handle it so well, you know that don’t you? All those interviewers looking to get a rise out of you.. You’re wonderful, Harry, and I’m glad I’m not the only who knows that.” You had responded with a squeeze of his hand.

He had flashed you a grateful smile in response.

“Although, I can say it was easier when thousands of girls weren’t pining for you, love.” You tease with a smirk, earning a loud chortle of laughter from him and a shake of his head, brown curls flopping around.

“S’only one girl I fancy, really.” He responds, lifting his hand to his mouth.

And you’re just about to enter the hotel, a mere few steps from the stairs when you spot the neon sign. It’s hard not to see it, really, but the words scrawled onto it is what causes you to come to a  stumbling stop. Harry comes to a stop too when he has to tug on your hand, your grip loosening from his. He’s instantly alert, ignoring the babbling man next to him as he lifts his head and turns over his shoulder to look at you. You’re turned away from him, staring somewhere off into the crowd and he wants to grab your attention, lean forward and grab your hand once again but he knows you’d only stop if it was important.

You don’t wait to offer him even a look of explanation as your step away from him, backtracking a few feet. The bodyguards and security members they have stationed behind you two and babbling away into their walkie talkies, spreading the news of the sudden stop. You’re stepping dangerously closer to the poll, the fans all screaming at you but you seem unphased. “Harry, she can’t just-” One of the bodyguards begins to lecture, and Harry knows he should say something. He takes a step forward to call after you, the guards around him mimicking his moves and keeping a tight box around him. But that’s when he notices the sign the girl you’re headed for is holding. He feels his heart pang a bit, every time he reads one of those signs he feels so.. Powerless. Him, big star Harry Styles who feels as if he’s the most menial man in the world were confronted with those ferocious words. Through twitter dm’s and instagram comments, to the posters he’d seen and the things he’d heard about fans, young girls thinking such disheartening things. He felt most frustrated with this, out of everything that came along with his career. 

You’re stepping closer to the fan whose eyes are wide as she lowers the sign and her mouth takes a widening ‘o’ shape. The guard closest to you grabs your elbow a bit possessively, causing Harry to frown. You turn, looking down at your elbow and up at the guard and although he can only see the side of your face Harry knows you’re giving the burlish man the sweetest of smiles. He’s talking to you in an urgent voice but you shake your head at him, extending the arm he isn’t holding onto to pat his forearm gently. Harry smiles a bit, the tension between his eyebrows unfolding. He recognizes the action all too well, it’s the one you give him when he’s worried or stressed or simply frustrated. A simple pat to the cheek and a kiss to his forehead with a placating, “Relax, love. You’ll be just fine.” The bodyguard, fond of Harry, turns to give him a questioning look and Harry nods at him. He releases your elbow, and you unaware of the exchange step closer to the fan.

You smile at her, black letters painted across her flushed cheeks, 1D taut against her freckled skin. You lean forward and offer your hand, and she carelessly drops the sign to the floor to hold on it. 

“Hi, love. What’s your name?” You ask over the roaring girls around you, everyone spreading the word that Harry Styles’ girlfriend is speaking to fans. 

“C-caroline.” She stutters, eyes wide and voice trembling not nearly as much as her hand is in yours. 

“That’s a lovely name, I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You respond with a smile. 

“I know who you are! I mean- I..” She stutters, ashamed of her sudden outburst. 

You smile at, flushing yourself. “I saw your sign, Caroline.”

  Her eyes go wide and her face drops to stare at said sign, laying on the ground with the word side facing up. Harry, you saved my life. 

She glances up at you, eyes swimming a bit. Caroline clears her throat, blinking at you, “Can I tell you?” She gestures to the sign with her foot.

You nod at once, and she begins to spill as much of her story as she can, tripping over the details and gasping with deep breaths to share enough in the short time you two have together. You nod along when you can, encouraging her with your eyes. The girls, around you and maybe a bit farther away too have fallen quiet as well.

When she’s done, you smile at her. “Oh, love. I’m sorry to hear that.” She smiles at you and even without the cameras on you, you would’ve considered your words just as carefully.

You clear your throat a bit and you address not just Caroline but all the girls around you, You shake your head at her, bringing your other hand up to sandwich hers between yours. “Being a teenager is a  proper pain in the arse, isn’t it?” You ask, addressing the girls around you two that leaning on their toes to get a better angle with their smart phones and listen to your words.

They laugh in response to your inquiry, nodding. You grin at them, taking in all of their wide eyed faces and expectant stares.

“I hope-” You stop at that, biting your lower lip and shaking your head before you start again, “I want you all to know it gets better, yeah? I know it seems like it won’t ever end or get better, but I promise you it does. And you’ve got to keep your pretty heads up. Focusing on the good things, it’ll help loves. Good people, good books, I mean you’ve already got good music to keep you company.” You add with a smile.

The girls nod all together and you feel your heart swell a bit when Caroline finally flashes her smile at you.

“You’ve got a beautiful smile, Caroline. Should wear it more often.” You offer as a parting sentence, before you pull your hands away from hers and wave at the group before turning back.

“Wait! Could- do you mind signing this?” Caroline cries, sign outstretched towards you. 

Your eyebrows furrow together, “Me?” 

“Yes, you’re awesome!” She screams, causing you to laugh. 

“I haven’t got a pen..” You mutter slightly, glancing over your shoulder at the bodyguard who gives you a pressing look. 

“I’ve got one, pet.” A warm voice says as a hand slips around your lower back. You turn and see Harry beaming at you with a pen in his hand. 

“Thanks, love.” You respond as you sign it for Caroline before she asks for Harry’s, who obliges, and after that the fans pick up the ir screaming again hand outstretched and waiting to grab at your boyfriend. 

“Let’s go yeah, unless yeh want to stop for anymore detours.” He mumbles into your ear before pressing his lips to your temple.

 “No, no, let’s go.” You nod and let him lead you towards the stairs, waving at the girls one last time.

The glass doors shut behind your and the other boys have taken a seat in the waiting area, standing up with a dramatic sigh when you two finally enter. You shoot them a quick look before Harry is towering in front of you with his hands locked tightly around your waist.  

You glance up at him hesitantly, expecting a scoff with a wild “what were yeh thinkin’ love?” but instead a met with a warm smile. Harry’s smile. His dimples are popping and his eyes are shining and you know it’s not from the reflection of the florescent lights in the hotel lobby. 

“What’re you smiling about?” You ask, leaning up to poke his dimple.

 He chuckles, turning his face to press a swift kiss to your finger. “Jus’.. happy, sweetheart.” He mumbles, leaning forward and impatiently kissing your forehead. 

You hum, gripping the fabric of his jacket and pulling yourself closer to him. The cameras outside are probably having a field day with what had just happened and Harry’s sudden burst of affection. “She was lovely, wasn’t she? Caroline.” You clarify, glancing back out the glass doors at the still boisterous fans. 

“She was.” He agrees, one hand reaching up to tilt your chin back in his direction.

You humph at him, “Needy, aren’t you?”

His response is a grunt and pressing his thumb deeper into your chin, before he grabs it and brings you forward in a scorching kiss.

When he finally pulls away, forehead resting against yours and puff puffs of breath warm against your cheek, he speaks, “Thank yeh for that, love. Yeh didn’t have to.. That was sweet of yeh. That girl’s gonna remember that for a long time.” He mutters, kissing your cheek.

It was the exact genuity that had attracted him to you in the first place. How simply it came to you to make someone else’s day better without a second thought. 

You smile at him, eyes narrowed in confusion, “All I did was talk to her, give her a listening ear. Anyhow, she adores you  and I reckon if we could leave her a little piece of you, she’d have something to cheer her up a bit. At least for a while, you know help keep her grounded. ”  

Harry shakes his head at you, ringed fingers brushing across your cheek, “Yeh did so much more than that, angel.  Don’t think those girls are gonna be thinking about me at all. The difference yeh just made…“ He trails off before clearing his throat and restarting, “Love yeh. Yeh know that, right?”He gripes suddenly, forehead bumping against yours to punctuate his words. 

You give him a genuine smile, laughing slightly as you tilt your head up to brush your nose against his lightly, “Love you, Harry.” 

Lullaby

Partially inspired by an anonymous request, partially inspired by a thought from @stylishmuser and partially inspired by my own need to hurt myself with daddy!Harry concepts on the reg. Enjoy!

I also really wish I knew how to make manips because I want a image of this so bad!

—————————————————————————————————

He could hear her tiny voice humming from the bottom of the stairs as he started to climb. He knew she was in her room and he thought that she had been getting ready for bed, but by the sound of her humming, that didn’t seem to be the case. It wasn’t abnormal for Harry to send his little four-year-old up to her room before bedtime, telling her to change into her pajamas and pick out a book, only to go up ten minutes later and find that she was still half dressed and distracted by a toy.

Thus was the case when he finally approached the doorway of her bedroom and peered inside, only to find her sitting in her tiny rocking chair in the corner with one of her dolls wrapped up in a blanket. Harry smiled as he watched her for a few seconds, listening to her hum and rock the doll back and forth like an infant. It took him a while, but the song she was humming started to sound familiar. It wasn’t a typically lullaby that he or you would have chosen to sing to your kids, but he realized that she was humming his song; a new song that had just dropped about a week ago.

He hadn’t even really thought that his daughter had paid enough attention to the song for her to be able to remember the tune, but she was doing it pretty well from what he could hear. Still, it was odd for her to have picked a song such as that to use as a lullaby; typically, she would use the songs that you and Harry sung to her at night.

He watched her for another minute or two before poking his head inside and capturing her attention. She looked up at him with a smile on her face, but then put a finger to her lips to shush him. Harry nodded in undestanding and tiptoed into the room, crouching down beside the rocking chair.

“What are you doing, munchkin? It’s time for bed.”

“Shhh, daddy,” she whispered, putting her finger to her lips once more, “I’m singin’ dolly a lullaby like you do with me.”

“Ohh, I see. Have you gotten her to sleep, then?”

His little girl nodded and continued to rock back and forth.

“Did she like the song you chose?” Harry asked, reaching out to move some hair away from his daughter’s face.

“She likes your song,” she answered, “It put her to sleep really fast.”

“Good. Well, now that dolly is asleep, I think it’s time for another little monkey to go to bed, hmm? S'gettin’ late, love.”

She nodded and kept a firm hold on her doll as she stood from the chair and walked over to her bed. Harry helped her crawl in, careful not to disturb the doll because she seemed very keen on keeping a hold on her like a real baby, and covered them both up with the blanket.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, love?”

“Can you tell me a story?”

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stefensalvatore  asked:

bellarke + 20 !

thank you!! sorry it’s a little late, homework had me kinda swamped yesterday

bellarke + 20. things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear

Bellamy is heading toward Medical when he hears Clarke’s voice.

He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, honestly. All he wanted was ask to Abby about how many rations of pain medication there are left - one of the members of a small hunting party returned to camp injured, and he could really use the medicine if they had any to spare. 

But then he hears Clarke say, “I’m really worried, Mom,” and he stops short in the hallway, his mind already filling with dozens of dreadful possibilities. She’s sick. She’s discovered that the world is ending again. Something is wrong. 

“It’s already been a couple of months since it happened, and I…” Clarke’s voice fades out, and Bellamy shuffles closer and presses his ear against the clinic door. By then, he’s missed some of what Clarke said.

Then he hears Abby ask, “How late?”

“Two months,” Clarke says. 

“And you feel okay? No nausea or sickness?”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Clarke says, “I’ve been throwing up sometimes. Morning sickness.”

Bellamy’s heart skips a nervous beat. He should have known that something was wrong with her. Ever since they started sharing a room - and a bed, and much more - they spent almost every minute of the day together. Sometimes she’d roll out of bed before him in the mornings, and he’d turn over and fall back asleep. He had no idea she was leaving to throw up. 

(He’s so worried that he can barely breathe.)

“Mom, if I’m-”

Abby shushes her. “We’ll know for sure in a minute.” Several seconds pass, and then Abby says, “Clarke…”

Clarke doesn’t answer for a long time.

Finally she says, “Mom, how the hell am I going to tell Bellamy?”

And that’s when he realizes. 

She’s two months late. She’s having morning sickness. Bellamy is somehow involved. He’s slightly terrified that he knows how.

She’s pregnant. The world shifts off its axis.

“It was one time,” Clarke is saying, and her voice sounds panicked. “We thought the world was ending and we were careless. I just… I can’t believe this happened. How can I possibly be a mother? I don’t deserve this child, Mom. Not after everything I’ve done. And what about Bellamy? What if he doesn’t even want to be a father?”

And Bellamy hears it all, all of these things he wasn’t supposed to hear until she was ready to tell him, and he thinks he should be scared. Instead, he’s flooded with a rush of love for her - and for their unborn child, how fucking insane is that - and he knows that he wants this more than anything.

Clarke will tell him when she’s ready, and as much as he wants to ease her fears as soon as possible, he’s willing to give her as long as she needs.

Bellamy backs down the hallway; he can come back for the medicine in a little while. In his mind’s eye there’s a little girl with his dark curls and Clarke’s blue eyes, and he already loves her.

“I’m going to be a father,” he whispers to himself as he walks away.

For the first time in a long time, he can’t stop smiling.

family matters

A short thing I felt compelled to write after last night’s episode. Slight spoilers for episode 84, of course.

*

Cassandra doesn’t really know Scanlan that well. She mostly thinks of him as the one who saved her brother from his cursed weapon, so she has more than a bit of gratitude for him, but she really hasn’t had much of a chance to get to know any of Percy’s friends all that well yet. She knows that the gnome loves music, and women, and ridiculous jokes, and that he probably cares more about his friends than his joking demeanor lets on. She did not, however, actually know he had a daughter until Percy breathlessly explained his need for the gate stone.

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#Balm

At first, he thinks she’s pregnant.

It’s not impossible- Not with the amount of time they spend shagging. They may use condoms and the pill but no birth control method is 100% effective (a fact his parents had illustrated beautifully by landing themselves with him.)

It’s not like the notion is an unpleasant one, either: he has occasionally found himself wondering what a little girl with Molly’s eyes and his curls might look like- Just as he has- occasionally- pictured a boy with Molly’s sweet smile and his laugh.

So no, given that he’s now committed to Molly, the notion of offspring doesn’t seem as off-putting as it once did.

In fact, he finds the thought rather… lovely.

Be that as it may, however, he soon deduces that it can’t be pregnancy which causes Molly to scurry into the bathroom as soon as she comes home from work, her head down and her cheeks reddened.

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Eyes│a.i

Originally posted by kassipayette

i’m like 110%  sure i’ve used that gif before but whatever - also this is rly good like read it you won’t regret it lmao, i’m begging 

Series: Paid to be Popular - The Purpose of Love - Bittersweet Generation

Requested: no, but i had a convo w @calumofficials a very long time ago about college!ashton lmao

Pairing: Art major!Ashton x Y/N

Description: When Y/N looks over the cute and curly-haired art major’s shoulder, she realises who he has been drawing for a long period of time; her.

It had become a normal thing for Ashton just to sit outside on the grass with a sandwich by his side and his sketchbook in his lap as he leant up against that one bench and then he would just draw whatever or whoever crossed his road. Sometimes it would be a gloomy flower in front of him, other times it would be scenarios or a person with a crazy hairdo just walking past. This had become a habit. After lunch, he would just sit down on the grass, not on the bench, but on the grass. Normally, he would take his lunch with him, maybe even some music occasionally. Drawing everything that he could think of.

This day was no different. He sat with his brown, round glasses on the bridge of his nose, the curls laying perfectly messy on his head, and his tongue sticking out as he focused on the current drawing. A girl. The girl he had slowly become more attracted to. He didn’t know her. All he knew was that after lunch she would be sitting with her friends on the lawn, the exact same time Ashton was.

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3

****

“Are you sure we should go without Betty? She’s kind of right. We never go to pops in the morning, it’s going to be filled with… children and… old people.” Veronica shuddered, filing her nails and pouting as they waited outside the diner in Archie’s beat up pickup truck.

Kevin nodded along to Veronica’s statement
“She’s right, Betty seemed super hurt when we told her we were going even though she couldn’t. That’s a total friendship faux pas.”

Archie rolled his eyes, swinging his letterman jacket over his shoulders “it’s just breakfast guys it’s not that serious, I want pancakes and I know pops has them. And Betty wasn’t hurt, she seemed more… nervous. We’ll talk to her later, hey! I’ll even bring her one of those blueberry muffins she loves so much. Now come on, I’m starving!”

Jughead followed closely behind, dragging his feet, he was usually on his best friends side but this time he felt anxious, Betty had actually seemed super freaked out when they asked her to breakfast, she had pretty much begged them to go to Chips instead, the tiny diner located in the town over, promising to meet them when she was finished with her “business.” They had agreed , but about halfway there Archie swung his truck around and headed for Pops claiming he loved the syrup in Riverdale and couldn’t miss out on it. He hated keeping Betty in the dark especially considering how close the two were becoming, Jughead adored Betty and he kinda felt like she cared about him too, she was almost always on his mind and when she dropped a hand to his arm or played with the loose curl hanging on his forehead, he felt his whole body melt. That girl was something else.

Walking directly into Archie’s back Jughead looked up at the redhead and rolled his eyes
“Walk much Arch.” He joked.

Suddenly he heard the feminine gasps of both Kevin and Veronica
“Oh my god.”

“Holy waitress the musical realness”

Utterly confused, Jughead followed his friends gaze, his eyes landing on the very tired blonde that had been running through his thoughts

“Betty?” He asked aloud.

She was eerily in tune with Jugheads voice and could almost always pick it out of a crowd, that being said she whipped around from her place at the counter and stared wide eyed at her friends before rushing over, a plate of home fries in one hand and a coffee pot in the other.

“What are you guys doing here?! I thought you were going to Chips? I was gonna meet you there!” She huffed out, her cheeks bright pink and her eyes embarrassed.

Archie was the first one to speak

“I didn’t know you worked at the Diner Betty! Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Betty just shook her head
“You never asked, listen I have to get back to my shift, it’s over in like an hour. I’ll join you guys as soon as I finish up.” With that she scurried over to her table and smiled that famous Betty Cooper smile, pouring steaming coffee.

Something wasn’t sitting right with jughead as he slid into his booth, she had said “you never asked.” And it was true, everyone had been so caught up in their own problems no one had bothered to ask Betty why she was never around in the mornings, why she had taken her two study halls back to back in the beginning of the day instead of at the end of the day like everyone else. They had been too concerned about themselves to even ask why Betty looked so damn tired all the time. Jughead felt his heart ache at the thought of her neglected and over worked. Looking around the table he noticed his other friends looking equally as guilty and sad.

“We can’t even have sleepovers anymore because of her work schedule, I should have put two and two together. She’s been so tired lately, I didn’t even see.” Veronica sighed, dropping her head in her hands as Archie draped an arm over her shoulder comfortingly.

“I wonder why she’s working so much. Money problems? Family problems? We never even asked.”

Kevin shook his head
“I could smack myself, I saw the uniform in her closet, I didn’t even think anything of it. She felt so ashamed she couldn’t even talk about it with us. Her friends.”

The three teenagers looked at Jughead waiting for him to give them answers, they knew he had been spending the most time with her what they didn’t know was he was just as guilty. He had been indulging in the quiet time they shared together. Stolen kisses on beds, late night blue and gold meetings, Betty fast asleep on his shoulder. Her anxiety was at an all time high and all he had done was hug her. Hug her and tell her she was strong, he didn’t even ask where the heightened nerves were coming from.

Jughead shrugged his shoulders, biting the inside of his mouth as he shook his head
“I know what you know.” He said simply.

After a fairly quiet, reflective breakfast Betty slid into the booth, her tiny hands covered in sticky coffee and her little blue uniform dress was wrinkled and messy.

“You guys won’t believe who tried to grab my butt! It was Mr.Weatherbee! He didn’t know who I was and when I popped my head up he almost had a heart attack, he spilt his coffee all over the place and just ran out of Pops!”

She was in a fit of giggles and her absolutely contagious laughter was enough to cut the tension in the friend group eventually everyone joining in as Betty grabbed for Kevin’s vanilla milkshake

“Ice cream for breakfast? What do they say about breakfast of champions.” She smiled, popping the straw in her mouth.

Veronica reached across the table putting her hand over Betty’s

“B, what’s going on? Why are you working here?” She asked softly.

Betty took a deep breathe and looked over at Jughead, he nodded slightly and took her free hand in his under the table, squeezing gently as she began her story

“Polly has hospital bills, she won’t accept any money from my parents for obvious reasons, but she also can’t work on her own she’s way too far along. The only reason she accepts money from me is because I told her it’s from a secret college fund mom and dad had put away for her, she doesn’t know I’m working and I’d appreciate it if no one brought it up around her. I don’t need her being anymore stressed out. ” she rested her head on Jugheads shoulder as he pushed a strand of loose blonde hair out of her face. “ anyway. Hospital bills are expensive, the baby will be here soon and I know my parents will take care of it when it gets here but for now.” She motioned to her uniform with her left hand “it’s just a little longer, it’s worth it. The baby is healthy and Polly gets those really great prenatal vitamins.” She sighed as her friends all stared at her in shock. “I don’t want to talk about it, yes I’m tired , yes I’m okay, and I promise not to keep things from you guys anymore. Now will someone please order me some pancakes, I’m famished.” She giggled as Archie,Veronica and Kevin all scrambled out of the booth, fighting on who was gonna be the one to treat her. Ultimately Kevin slammed his wallet on the counter as Archie was getting his out and Veronica was fumbling with her credit card,
“well I’m getting her another milkshake” Veronica pouted

“I’m getting her a muffin.” Archie challenged.

Betty laughed heartily as she turned to Jughead, he was staring at her in complete adoration

“I’m gonna be spoiled.” She smiled sleepily.

“You should be” he whispered, his own lazy smile gracing his face before he continued

“You Betty Cooper, are the most amazing, kind, intellgent, selfless human being I know.”

Betty just rolled her eyes

“Thanks Juggie.”

He dropped his lips to hers, their first public kiss

“By the way” he whispered, his voice husky and deep “you look amazing in that uniform. I’ve always had a thing for waitresses.”

Betty’s eyes got wide as she grabbed him by the hand, tugging him to the ladies room and shouting

“We’ll be right back” as they passed their very confused friends

“Where are we going!” Jughead chuckled

Betty just kept walking, her face determined

“I’ve had a very long day at work. I need to relax. Plus, I thought you liked waitresses.”

With a wink, she tugged him into the stall.

anonymous asked:

I netflixed the shit out of arrow season 1-4. I really don't see how laurel and oliver were ever friends. I can see tommy and Oliver being life long friends but I don't see how laurel fit in their dynamic. I could just imagine Tommy covering for Oliver whenever he cheated. It's hard to believe laurel was anything more than just a hanger on. I didn't understand the three musketeers vibe the writers were trying to peddle with 4:19, when they were being nostalgic. What's ur take on that dynamic?

Okay, if you’re familiar with my writing you know I psychoanalyze the crap out of my characters. I was just talking with some friends of mine tonight about my ‘writing style’ and how I  get inside the heads of the characters and base their reactions to any given situation based on their actions in canon.

Like my husband always says, ‘A person can say anything but their actions don’t lie.’

In order to understand how these three characters connect you have to examine who each of the characters are starting with Tommy since he’s the bridge between the two.

Tommy has two major issues: An inferiority complex and abandonment issues. He lost his mother, his father abandoned him for two years, and then came home completely changed and treated him like a waste of space by constantly criticizing him and telling him he wished he wasn’t his son. This is canon.

Tommy latched onto Oliver and the Queen family because they were his only support system. He gratefully accepted the role of second banana to Oliver because A) he never felt good enough to ask for more and B) Oliver was his only constant and the first person to tell him that he’d always be there for him and mean it. It’s why he ran all the way to Hong Kong based on an unsent email and never lost hope he was alive. It’s also why when Oliver came back he immediately offered to back away from his relationship with Laurel (such as it was) because, in his mind, she was Ollie’s girl and he was the interloper.

Unfortunately for poor Tommy, that was true. 

Remember that in canon Tommy said he and Laurel were only booty buddies before Ollie’s resurrection. They’d only hooked up three times before then, quote: ‘Her place, my place, my place again.’

Tommy pursued Laurel because she was the last tie he had to Oliver but he knew what he felt for her wasn’t what she felt for him. He also knew that the reason Laurel hooked up with him in the first place was because he reminded her of Ollie and that she would always go back to Ollie no matter what. He even said to Oliver that even if Laurel found out he was the Hood, despite the fact that he had killed people, she’d immediately choose him every time.

Again, he was right; Laurel, all throughout her relationship with Tommy, would run to Oliver or the Hood every chance she got. The fact that she refused to have a relationship with Tommy until AFTER Oliver returned is telling as well. Laurel only got serious with Tommy to show Oliver she was over him then she stayed with him in order to make Oliver jealous. Tommy knew that but he stayed because he was convinced that eventually Laurel would see how much he loved her and how hard he was working to gain her trust and respect. That’s what really soured his relationship with Oliver, the fact that no matter how hard he tried, he would always be everyone’s second choice.

Still, Tommy’s greatest strength has always been that he’s a good friend and highly loyal. No matter how badly both Oliver and Laurel betrayed him–and they constantly betrayed him long before the sex up against the wall thing by carrying on an emotional affair behind his back–he stood by them. He protected Oliver and helped him even when he disapproved of what he was doing and he rushed onto a burning building to save Laurel even though she made it very clear through her words and actions that she never really loved him.

She confirms that in episode 1 of season 2 when she refers to him as her ‘friend’ then makes excuses about the fact that she didn’t cheat on him, not really, even though it kind of felt like she did, then reassures herself of that by saying that Tommy ‘would’ve wanted us to be together’ even though that’s the furthest thing from the truth. 

Oliver’s biggest problem is that he’s emotionally immature and lacks the chip in his brain that recognizes that actions have consequences. Even now he sees himself as the center of the universe and everyone around him are there merely to serve a purpose within his narrative. 

I get that it’s his show but, if this were real life, then that would be a pretty shitty thing to do.

Everyone uses Oliver’s 5 years away as an excuse for his actions but he had 22 years of life BEFORE the island and now 5 years after and a lot has changed but a lot hasn’t changed as well.

Oliver was always his mama’s ‘beautiful boy’ and he said to his mother in canon that her parenting style has always to let her children do anything they want and then to step in to sweep the consequences of their actions under the rug. Moira protects her children but she likes keeping them dependent on her as well. She offered them no structure, no discipline, and she withheld affection as a punishment before swooping in to save the day and basking in her ‘heroic motherhood’. In a way Moira has this sort of Munchhausen’s by proxy where she ensures her children have no sense of consequences so she can always remain the center of their universe.

It’s why we see a grown ass 20 year old Oliver curled up in his mommy’s lap and whimpering to her about knocking some girl up. Subconsciously Oliver  knew she’d make it go away, that’s why when Samantha told him she paid her off, Oliver began to object then immediately let it go with a guilty look on his face. After all, he practically told his mother to do it so how could he be angry with her for it?

Because of this, Oliver was raised with this idea that he should hand over his autonomy to his mother and let her fix everything and that nothing has consequences for him.

Notice that he treated Laurel the same way he treated his mother right down to the way he would curl up in her lap like a little boy.

Everyone saw this gif and cooed, I didn’t because I saw it for what it was:

 Ollie and mommy

Originally posted by oneofakindxx

Oliver knows he screwed up, he knows he’s about to get into trouble, so he cuddles like a little boy looking for comfort. This would be endearing except for the fact that we see him do this same thing with Laurel right after he finds out he got Samantha pregnant and knows he has to tell her soon and then he does it again when he confesses to Moira.

Basically Oliver is stunted emotionally. He knows he loves Tommy but he has no problem with telling his best friend to get the girl then sleeping with her because he wants the girl for himself. He doesn’t even stop to consider the consequences of his actions, he doesn’t care that he hurt Tommy until after the fact. 

As for Laurel, she’s a classic type A personality with a superiority complex. 

I want to emphasize that, as much as we may dislike her, Laurel is not the bad guy. Another friend of mine shared her headcanon about Laurel one day. She asked, ‘How did a girl from a working class family grow up with the sons of billionaires?’ The answer is that her mom was a teacher and, chances are, she taught at the school Oliver and Tommy went to. Lots of private schools allow the children of the teaching staff attend for free or at a discount so Laurel was probably enrolled at the same private academy. That said, she was still the teacher’s kid and she’s going to school with people who spend more on shoes than what both her parents earn in a year combined. Not only that but she has a little sister who is an admitted fuck up and two parents who are always working or going to school at night so she’s given the responsibility of taking care of her sister. Whenever Sara screws up, she catches the blame because she’s ‘the responsible one’.

Laurel busts her ass to be accepted by the kids she goes to school with; most teenage girls would. She gets straight A’s, she’s active in all the clubs, and she’s popular, but she can never be good enough. What’s worse is that Sara seems to have everything handed to her. Sara gets great grades without trying, she screws up and her parents bail her out or yell at Laurel for not watching her better, and she makes friends easily because she has this kind of laid back personality people respond to. Sara is fearless and people love her for that while Laurel resents the hell out of her for it. When she finds out that Sara is planning on hooking up with Oliver at a party, that’s the final straw for her.

Oliver is the most popular guy at school and her sister is going to wind up dating him on top of everything else so she tells on her, gets her grounded, then marches into that party with the intentions of snagging Oliver for herself.

Again this is at least partially canon.

Sara tells Oliver that Laurel hooked up with him that night because she knew they were planning on meeting up. She wanted to ‘steal’ Oliver from Sara because she resented Sara and felt like she deserved him, like he was a trophy. She justified her actions by saying that Sara was too young for Oliver or that she had a crush on him first but, really, Laurel never wanted Oliver so much as she wanted credit for getting Oliver. 

Throughout their relationship, Laurel constantly pushed Oliver into doing what she wanted. She had a plan and she expected Oliver to eventually fall in line. She couldn’t deviate from her plan which is why, no matter how many times Oliver cheated on her, she always took him back. 

Despite the fact that her father called her a gold digger, that’s not what Laurel is; she’s more like a social climber. Laurel is a goal oriented person; she knows what she wants and she won’t stop until she gets it. She also has that same blindness to consequences and collateral damage Oliver has and cannot accept failure. When she fails or is wrong she lashes out and deflects blame onto others or rewrites history in her mind. 

She stole Oliver from Sara but she rewrites history to say that Sara was a boyfriend stealer first even though she’s the one who spread that rumor around the school in the first place (again, that’s canon).

She says Oliver is the love of her life even though she caught him with more than a dozen of her ‘friends’ even before finding out about Sara and Samantha. (canon)

She runs into CNRI for files even though she’s warned not to go inside the building leading to Tommy’s death but she blames the Hood for not getting there in time to save him. She completely disavows any responsibility in the events leading up to his death. (canon)

She also disavows any serious relationship existed between them by rewriting history and painting them as ‘friends’, not ‘lovers’, and tells Oliver that Tommy would want them to be together. She even stages a romantic scene mere days after his funeral where she’s all smiles while looking over his pictures then launches into a discussion about moving in together and getting married as if the last six years never happened. (canon times infinity)

How these three people connect is simple:

Oliver is with Laurel because she offers him structure and she reminds him of his mother. Tommy fits in because he just wants a family and he wants to have a place where he is loved by the people he loves. Laurel wants to save the world and be the hero. She wants everyone to look at her and admire her and she knows she can do so many good things if she’s Mrs. Oliver Queen. She convinces herself that she loves Oliver because she has to love Oliver otherwise it would make her look like a bad person and Laurel is a very good person. Laurel is a hero in her own mind and anything else is unacceptable.

To put it simply, these are three very damaged people locked in a toxic relationship where they enable each other and feed on one another’s worst traits. If anyone comes out smelling like a rose it’s Tommy but he isn’t perfect either. He doesn’t understand that the reason Laurel can never love him isn’t because she loves Oliver more, but because he allows her to treat him like a tool and doesn’t have enough self-respect to demand more. 

Now, what should’ve happened was Tommy should’ve gotten therapy and met Felicity and never hooked up with Laurel in the first place that way when Oliver returned he’d be married to her and she would’ve turned him into a grown up.

Laurel should’ve dumped Oliver the first time he cheated on her and demanded the respect she was due. At the very least she should’ve taken that job in San Francisco and gotten the hell away from Starling. Maybe she would’ve met someone like Ray Palmer, someone who was successful and a bit oblivious who she could shape into the person she needed him to be but who could also stand up to her when necessary.

Oliver should’ve grown the fuck up a long time ago. When he knocked Samantha up, his mother should’ve gone to Robert, they should’ve sat Oliver and Samantha down, and Oliver should’ve been made to take responsibility then and there. If Oliver had been allowed to become a father then he would’ve buckled down and his entire life would’ve changed. I doubt he and Samantha would’ve been a couple but they would be co-parents. Oliver would begin working at QC part time and gone to school at Starling U. He would’ve matured and become more independent because he wouldn’t have had a choice. If Laurel was smart, that would’ve been the final straw and she would’ve left him to pursue her own life because sisters are doing it for themselves.

There wouldn’t have been an island either because Oliver wouldn’t want to be away from his kid for three months. It takes a minimum of a month to sail to China so they would’ve flown instead. He would’ve gone to the meeting then come straight home. 

The whole thing is a tragedy when you think about it. None of these characters are completely blameless and no one is the bad guy. The only bad guy, IMHO, is the writers who decided to tell us what a strong, smart, and noble character Laurel was without allowing us to see that.  She came off much worse than they intended her to because, in the end, these were male writers who thought a strong female was the same as a bitch. They thought that ambition was the same as being a social climber, and they failed to realize that no strong woman would put up with all the shit Laurel put up with.

The way most women viewed it was that he cheated and she took him back once. That’s fine, that’s understandable. He cheats again and she drops his ass because fool me once, shame on me, fool me twice, shame on you. The fact that Laurel took him back after he cheated on her more than a dozen times then slept with him after he ran off with her sister?

Yeah, no. That’s the point where the vast majority of your female audience turns on her and asks why the fuck she’s with this guy if she isn’t after the name and the money?

I honestly doubt that Oliver would’ve ever married her if the island ever happened. He never wanted that, he was just too chicken to say it. After Tommy died, the minute she started in on that crap again and began waxing poetic about becoming Mr and Mrs Queen and saving the people of Starling City together he tuned out and split for Lian Yu because he would rather go back to hell then live in that particular section of heaven.

Hope that answers your question. :)  

Realize -- Chapter Twenty-Nine “The End”

Tom HiddlestonxReader

I’ve been reading too many imagines on @theartofimagining13 and some from my own silly brain…Well, Kids, this is it, we’ve come to the end of our tale. Thank you all for reading and giving me such great feedback. I love you all… And Now… Chapter Twenty-Nine.

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(I know I am missing some tags and I am sorry if I missed you!)

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven | chapter eight | chapter nine | chapter ten | chapter eleven | chapter twelve | chapter thirteen | chapter fourteen | chapter fifteen | chapter sixteen | chapter seventeen | chapter eighteen | chapter nineteen | chapter twenty | chapter twenty-one |chapter twenty-two | twenty-three | chapter twenty-four | chapter twenty-five | chapter twenty-six | chapter twenty-seven | chapter twenty-eight

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Just How I Like It

Author: smutandahalf

Characters: Reader x Stiles x Isaac

Rating: NSFW 18+ EXPLICIT SMUT

Word Count: 2,768

Originally posted by m-atilda


           I glance up at her, scribbling in her notebook, and her tongue is peeking out of the corner of her mouth slightly.

           Isaac comes up behind her, whispering something in her ear and she looks startled. She jumps in her chair, slamming her notebook closed before shoving it away from her slightly.      

           “So what have you found so far?” He asks me and I look up quickly.

           “Nothing. I’ve found nothing, absolutely nothing.” I grumble in irritation while tugging at my hair in frustration. “What about you, Y/N? Did you find anything useful? You’ve been writing in your notebook non-stop for like an hour.”

           “Oh, just a few things, possible ideas. Nothing too useful yet, definitely nothing share worthy.” She say quickly, inching her fingers towards her notebook that’s made its way closer to my side of the table. “Anyways, I just remembered that my mom needed me to go run some errands while she’s at work so I’m just going to go.”

           She grabs the notebook quickly and stuff it into her backpack before swinging the bag over her shoulder and leave the library before I even have time to say goodbye.

           “Well, someone seems a little jumpy.” Isaac remarks, raising an eyebrow at her empty seat and I shrug, pulling my notebook towards me. “Alright well Scott and I are going to go and see if we can catch the Alpha pack’s scent so I’ll catch you later.” He adds, getting up from his seat, and I nod at him in farewell.

           I flip the notebook open and am greeted with Y/N’s neat handwriting. My eyebrows furrow in confusion, wondering if maybe she added some things into my notebook to combine out notes together.

           He slides a finger into her, his thumb rubbing against her clit and she throws her head back. “Fuck, right there Stiles,” She says, moaning in satisfaction.

           I scan along the page, reading a few sentences here and there and my face flushes immediately when I see my name, and my dick tightens in response.

           Holy shit. I think to myself when I realize what I was holding in my hand. Y/N hadn’t been doing research for the past hour, she’d been writing smut. My eyes scan down along the page again, reading a bit more and I shift in my seat; very, very detailed smut. I take a shaky breath before shoving everything into my backpack and rushing out of the library to my car, anxious to head home and read the rest of the holy grail that I’ve stumbled on.

 **********************

           I search through my backpack frantically, dumping everything out on to the floor desperately looking for my notebook. Finally I find it, flipping it open and all I see if a messy scrawl scribbled all over the pages. A sense of panic surges through me as I stare at the endless notes on possible leads and various supernatural creatures that could be in Beacon Hills. I bite my lip, trying to breathe in slowly, desperately trying to contain my freak out. This is Stiles’ notebook, and if I have his notebook then that means that he more than likely has mine and I hope to God he hasn’t opened it yet.

           I grab my keys off of my desk and run down the stairs of my house. I’m out the front door and in the driver’s seat of my car within a minute. I pull out of the driveway and make my way to Stiles’ as quickly as possible. I pull up in front of his house, jumping out of the car and slamming the door behind me.

           I’m panting slightly when I get to the front door, banging against the wood loudly. I tap my foot anxiously, waiting for Stiles to open the door. Finally, the door budges and I see Stiles staring back at me in surprise.

           “Y/N?”

           “I have your notebook, figured you might need it.” I say quickly, holding it up to show him and he quirks an eyebrow at me.

           “Come on in.” He turns away from the door and I hurry in behind him, turning to close the door.

           “Right so you probably didn’t even notice you had the wrong notebook,” I start to say as the door clicks shut and he presses up against me, pushing my chest tightly against the door. His hands smoothing over my hips as he moves my hair away from my neck and presses a few soft kisses to the skin there and I feel like I’m going to melt. “Stiles, what are you doing?” I ask breathlessly and it comes out in a soft moan and my head falls back against his shoulder.

           “Nothing,” He whispers against me, his tongue tracing patterns against my skin before tugging my earlobe in between his teeth. “Just let it happen.”

           I try to convince myself to pull away from him, to stop this and find out why he’s doing this, but all I can think about is how good his hands feel against my body. He slides his hands up, cupping my breasts in his hands, squeezing them gently and I let out a mewl of pleasure. I can feel him harden as he presses roughly against me, his erection digging into my hip before he turns me around to face him.

           I look at his face, searching for answers but all I can see are his eyes dark with lust; staring back at me as if he had been wandering the desert and I was the only thing that could quench his thirst.

           His hips press against mine as he leans towards me, pausing for a moment just millimeters from my lips, flicking his gaze up to meet mine as if to see if I’m going to stop his and I bite my lip unintentionally. A look of pure lust washes over his face and a low growl escapes from this back of his throat before he slams his lips against mine. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he grabs the back of my thighs, lifting me up as if I weight nothing. I lock my legs around his waist and he keeps me pressed tightly against the wall, pinning me there.

           He tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth, sucking on it and I moan against his lips. He uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, battling against mine before exploring the inside of my mouth as if he wants to taste every inch of me. My hands make there way from the nape of his neck into his hair and I fist my hands into his messy brown hair, causing him to groan in appreciation.

           He holds onto me tightly, walking us up the stairs, his lips never disconnecting from mine. When we get up to the second floor he makes his way across the hall, kicking the door to him room open. He drops me onto his bed and I lie there panting slightly.

           “Stiles,” I whisper, still trying to catch my breath and his lips are on mine again, silencing me. His begins kissing along my jaw and down my neck and I tilt my head to allow him better access. “We need to talk about this.” I say, barely able to get the words out before I moan again.

           “No we don’t,” He mumbles against me, “Think about it later.”

           He continues kissing down my neck, pulling down the collar of my t-shirt before planting a few soft kisses along my clavicles, and tracing his tongue along where the bone is visible. His hands slip under my t-shirt, his warm hands caressing up my stomach before he tugs it over my head.

           Once my shirt is off he looks at me in awe, my bra pushing up my breasts making them swell, and he begins tracing his thumbs over the simple black lace. He nips gently at the newly exposed skin, sliding his tongue down along the valley of my breasts and I whimper. I arch my back and his hands reach around me to unclasp my bra and pull it off of me.

           “Holy shit, you’re fucking gorgeous.” He groans and I can feel a blush coloring my face. He presses his hands against my chest, kneeding my breasts and I can feel my nipples harden under his hands. He takes a hardened peak into his mouth, sucking on it and I moan, dragging my hand through his hair before pressing his face tightly against me. “You’re tits are fucking perfect.” He rasps, his voice thick with lust as he takes my other nipple in his mouth and all I can do is moan in response.

           “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He moans, trailing open mouth kisses down my stomach and I whimper. In one smooth motion he’s pulled my skirt and panties down, leaving me bare to him. I shiver as the cold air hits my core where wetness is quickly pooling.

           He sucks roughly against my hip, leaving a dark purple mark before repeating the same action on the other side. His lips work over the inside of my thighs and I squirm in anticipation of him getting to where I need him most. Slowly, his mouth moves nearer and nearer to my core.

           “Stiles, please,” I plead, my need for him mixing with desperation.

           “What’s wrong baby girl?” He breathes against me and I shudder at the feeling of his hot breath against my center. “Tell me what you need.”

           “Anything,” I whimper, begging him, “Please just do anything.”

           He sticks his tongue out, licking slowly along my slit from my core to my clit and I shudder against him. He continues sliding his tongue along me languidly, as if he has all the time in the world and it feels like complete torture. I buck my hips against him, desperate for more, and he uses his hands to hold my thighs down as he continues his sweet torture.

           He swirls his tongue around my bundle of nerves and I let out a loud gasp, my head lurching forward as my back arches off of the bed. “You taste so fucking sweet,” He mumbles against my core, sending vibrations shooting through me and I writhe against him. He slides a finger into me, keeping rhythm with his tongue and my eyes roll back into my head at the sensation.

           “Won’t you make some more of those pretty noises I love so much, baby girl?” He asks, curling his fingers inside of me to hit that perfect spot and I let out a loud moan. He pulls his fingers out of me, reaching them out to my lips, offering to me and I open my mouth slightly. He slips his fingers into my mouth and I slide my tongue around them, sucking against his fingers and he looks at me, his mouth slightly wide.

           “Holy fuck that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” He says, returning his mouth to my core and I wrap my legs around his head. He continues licking, sucking, and flicking his tongue over me, making it impossible for me to contain my moans when he pulls away from me suddenly and I whimper at the loss of contact.

           He pulls me towards him, pressing his lips to mine, slipping his tongue inside of my mouth and I can taste myself on him. I capture his tongue with my lips and suck on it, making him moan against my mouth. His moan triggers something in me and I tear his clothes off of him. His shirt goes flying across the room as I tug at his pants and boxers, throwing them to the floor once they’re off of him.

           His erection springs up proudly and my eyes widen slightly. I grasp his length in my hands and lets out a sharp intake of breath. I lick a stripe up along the underside of his cock before swirling my tongue around his tip and he moans, his eyes fluttering closed. I take him into my mouth, sliding him all the way to the back of my throat and he thrusts hard against my mouth. I bob my head against him, hollowing out my cheeks and I slide him in and out of my throat, pressing my tongue along a prominent veins and he shudders.

           “Your mouth feels so good, baby girl,” He groans and I moan at the nickname. The sound sends vibrations shuddering through him and he bucks his hips against me. I pull him out of my mouth slowly, sliding my hand up and down his length, pumping his firmly before taking his length back fully into my mouth. “I’m going to come,” He pants and I can feel him twitching in my mouth before a warm liquid trickles into the back of my throat and he throws his head back as his orgasm crashes over him. I slide my tongue along him, licking ever drop of his release before pulling him out of my mouth with a pop.

           “Fuck, I knew you had a wicked mouth but I didn’t realize you could do that,” He pants and I smirk at him. He pulls me towards him, flipping us so that I’m underneath him. “Don’t worry baby girl, I’m going to take good care of you.” He whispers against the shell of my ear, pumping his cock a few times before lining himself up with my entrance.

           He slides into me, slowly, and I moan loudly. “You’re so fucking tight.” He breathes out in a pant as he slides out of me and back in and I whimper.

           “Fuck, Stiles, I need you.” I say, wrapping my legs around his hips and he begins pounding into me. I lift my hips up in rhythm to his thrusts, making it to where he hits that perfect spot deep within me every time and I drag my nails roughly down his back. He holds onto the headboard tightly with one hand, the leverage allowing him to thrust even more deeply into me.

           I can feel the pressure building inside of me, a fine sheen of sweat lining his forehead as he continue to slam into me. I look up at him through half lidded eyes, and he flips us again so that I’m straddling him. I roll my hips against him, riding him quickly and he one hand against my breast while the other hand is quickly rubbing against my clit, quickly bringing me closer and closer to my release.

           “F-fuck, yes, just like that, Stiles,” I moan, my voice coming out raspy and he leans up slightly to replace the hand on my breast with his mouth. He sucks on my nipple roughly as he applies more pressure to my bundle of nerves and all at once my orgasm slams into me. I clench around him, throwing my head back and screaming his name repeatedly, as he continues to thrust into me to prolong my orgasm. My orgasm pushes him over the edge and I can feel him twitch inside me as he begins to pulsate. His eyes close tightly as he comes undone underneath me, releasing with a shudder. He slumps back against the bed and I roll off of the top of him trying to capture my breath.

           He wraps his arms around me, pulling me towards him as my chest rises and falls rapidly.

           “Holy shit that was amazing,” I say, my voice barely louder than a breathless whisper, “It’s like you knew just how I like it.”

           “I read your notebook,” He admits guiltily, pressing a kiss to my temple and I choke on a breath.

           “Oh my god you read it?” I ask, embarrassment flooding my face and he lets out a low chuckle.

           “What do you think gave me the courage to make a move?” He asks and I shrug, “Besides, it was probably the most useful research I’ve ever stumbled across.” He adds, capturing my lips with him and I kiss him back passionately.

           “So, can we talk about everything now?” I ask hesitantly and he nuzzles his face into my neck.

           “What’s there to talk about? You’re mine now and forever. You’ve always been mine.” He mumbles against my skin and my heart drops into the pit of my stomach at his words.

           “Just how I like it.” I whisper, cuddling in closer to him, and he presses soft kisses into my neck before pulling a blanket over us.