Summary: You hated Min Yoongi. He hated you. But the both of you were about to find out that hate was just a way to mask another passionate emotion.
A/N: lmao such a horrible pun but I couldn’t help myself nor could I help myself in writing a love-hate relationship with Yoongi. This is the longest one-shot I’ve ever written omg. I hope you all enjoy & as always if you have any questions about my BTS hp AUs or feedback on this one-shot, don’t hesitate to send an ask! I’ll be more than happy to answer them (:
p.s let’s pretend that prefects are allowed to take house points away from houses other than theirs.
Word Count: 9,176
“Muffet.” You cooed quietly as you cautiously walked down a
hall, your wand producing a red laser-like light to attract your cat.
You hadn’t seen her all day and you were worried so not
caring that it was past curfew, you snuck out of the Gryffindor dorms in search
of her. You hoped you’d be able to find her before Filch or Mrs. Norris caught
you or worse-
“Past curfew, Gryff.” Yoongi tsked as he
appeared out of nowhere, tapping his wrist in a disapproving manner. His prefect
badge glistened under the flames from the torches that lined the halls. “I
think that amounts to ten points from your house, doesn’t it?”
And there was worse.
Min Yoongi. The Slytherin prefect who loved to torture you with deduction of
“Or how about you admit you snuck out of your dorm because
you knew you’d find me? I can’t blame you for that. I’m quite irresistible.”
He noticed the slight frown on your face and since you were
taking a while to answer, he began to wonder if ten points was too harsh. But
those thoughts were all thrown out as you opened your mouth.
Pairing: Florist!Steve x Reader x Biker!Bucky Summary: Steve and Reader finally learn the fate of their biker from a redheaded stranger. A/N: Okay so this is based off an ask here. This is written in collaboration with @writemarvelousthings. I wrote this chapter and I really hope you guys like it as much as we do! Come let us know what you think, we’d love to hear from you. Word count : 1,951
The loud slamming of a drawer pulls you from your day dream. Business had been slow that day and you found yourself glancing at the clock often. So, when you hear Steve grumbling behind you you’re glad for the distraction.
“Where are they?” he mumbles to himself, rifling through the nicknack drawer in the workbench.
“Where’s what?” you ask spraying a fresh bunch of wild flowers with water. Steve doesn’t acknowledge you but simply moves to the next drawer. He slams the drawer so hard it rattles the workbench and that’s when you put your sprayer down and walk over to him.
“Steven Grant Rogers, if you don’t quit that I’m going to put you in a time out” you grumble and Steve turns looking bashful.
i feel like ‘the larries’ (especially the really vocal louis loving ones) are a metaphorical piece of gum stuck to the bottom of sony’s shoe and they. just. can’t. seem. to. completely. get. rid. of. us no matter how far they walk or how many curbs they scrape the bottom of their soles against.
Request: hiiii can i get a prompt 19 with kihyun :) :) :) pretty please
19) You and your bias are rival idols forced to work with each other on a collaboration
Member: Monsta X’s Kihyun x Y/N
Type: some angst, some fluff, some romance. (warning: inappropriate language/references)
You fidgeted in the back of the SUV that was seemingly swallowing you whole. You weren’t sure if you were angry, frustrated, sad, or nervous. More than likely, it was an anxiety inducing in-between, but you tried to swallow your insecurities. Heart burn and acid in your esophagus were a physical manifestation of the nerves, mixing with your heart repeatedly plummeting to your feet and back to your chest again.
Your manager had informed you just over a week ago that you had landed an OST for one of the most talked up dramas of the year. You would be performing a duet, but the other artist hadn’t yet been selected. You were notably excited, realizing what a big opportunity this would be for your career. Only a few days later, you were called to your manager’s office. Told to shut the door, you were already aware of the heavy tone weighing down the air. She had informed you that you would be working with someone you had detested since shortly after your debut.
Yoo Kihyun of Monsta X.
You weren’t exactly sure when or how you became rivals. Your relationship had developed simply enough, strictly work with the occasional conversation exchanged. This had all seemed to become altered once you had both been special MC’s for Music Bank during your last comeback cycles. Both of your groups had been up for a win that week, which caused an unnecessary awkwardness between the two of you. After your group had won, once again snatching away Monsta X’s first win (although they would move forward to win the next week) your relationship had changed.
From that point on, every time you had run into Monsta X, Kihyun had something sarcastic or rude to say. You grew to dread running into the group, which wasn’t fair to yourself or the other men of Monsta. Hearing that you would have to spend hours, if not days with him, set your nerves on edge.
You tried to shake the thoughts from your head as you felt a light squeeze on your knee. Looking up, you met the sad smile of your manager who gave a polite nod toward the door. You hesitantly grasped the handle and gave it a gentle push, exposing you to the morning sunlight you weren’t prepared for.
Then again, you weren’t prepared for a lot of things.
You looked up to the Starship Entertainment building, wincing at the immensity of it. You weren’t sure how your manager had negotiated, if she had at all, but you had agreed it would be best if you used a Starship studio for the project. You glanced over your shoulder to get another supportive nod from your manager as you shuffled toward the heavy glass doors that provided entry into the building.
After checking in with the receptionist, you and your manager were led down hall after hall. It felt like hours as you trailed behind the woman, her short and thin frame darting from one direction to the next. Eventually you reached another set of glass doors with several people on the opposite side. She pulled them open, struggling with the weight as she waved you inside.
“Hello,” your manager chimed, bowing to everyone in the room. You followed suit, keeping your eyes low.
“I’m unsure if everyone has met,” one of the Starship managers nodded. “But this is Kihyu-”
“We’ve met,” Kihyun sighed shortly. Your face immediately darted up as you made eye contact with the cold man. His appearance had changed since the last time you had seen him, but then again, so had yours. His hair had gone from a bubblegum pink to a dark brown. He wore a beanie, keeping his hair pushed back from his face. He wasn’t wearing any makeup, but he didn’t have anything to cover up anyhow. He was brutally handsome, which made the situation so much worse. “No need for the pleasantries.”
“Ah, Kihyun, should we treat our guests this way?” his manager laughed nervously, casting a wary side eye to one of the producers set up at the mixing board.
“Let’s just get to work,” Kihyun grumbled, launching himself from the couch he was lounging on. He leaned back, grabbing a piece of paper he had been looking over, and crumpled it a bit. He looked back to you, pushing the now crushed paper into your hands. “The lyrics.”
He sauntered past you and into the sound booth and placed a pair of headphones over his ears. Your mouth popped open, shocked by his open act of hostility.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” his manager gasped, rubbing at his temples. “I’m so sorry.”
You slowly shut your mouth, taking in a deep breath through your nose to calm yourself. “Don’t be.”
“Alright, let’s take a break!” the composer called over the studio mic, replacing the track with his voice in the sound booth. Kihyun cocked his eyebrows as he looked up from his paper and to you.
“Didn’t we just take a break?” he asked uncertainly.
“Yeah, we need to have a talk,” Kihyun’s manager responded, waving you both in. You looked warily to Kihyun as you hopped from your stool and past him.
“Yah, watch it,” he grumbled as you bumped into his knee.
“Look, this is literally a four by four glass box,” you hissed, turning to give him a death glare. His eyes grew wide at your tone. This had been the first time you had spoken to him since you had arrived to Starship. “If you don’t want to get bumped into, take more of an effort to make yourself smaller. Oh wait…you’ve already done that, haven’t you?”
His jaw dropped as he openly stared at you, unblinking. You tried to not smile at your small victory, making sure to back into him and bump his leg again as you exited the booth.
“What’s up?” you sighed, plopping onto the couch beside your manager. She pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose, a sign you had become familiar with. This expression was usually synonymous with bad news.
“It’s not working,” Kihyun’s manager sighed as he had entered the room. “Your chemistry…”
“It just isn’t there,” your manager finished. “While you both sing beautifully…there’s no feeling behind the words.”
“The feeling is what sells it,” Kihyun’s manager sighed.
Kihyun was leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the room, biting repeatedly at his lip. He looked up from his shoes and to his manager. “I always sound soulful, my words are always believable.”
“Not this time,” his manager muttered, shaking his head. “You sound hollow.”
“Hollow!” Kihyun croaked, his cheeks becoming pink with anger and embaressment. “Well what about my partner! I can only be as good as who I’m paired with!”
“There is something lacking with both of you,” your manager cooed. You lifted your brows in surprise at her words. This was the first time she had ever given you any sort of negative feedback, no matter how small it was. She placed a comforting hand on your knee, but you quickly shifted to avoid her touch.
“Maybe you two should have a conversation, just the two of you,” Kihyun’s manager said slowly. ‘It seems as if a heaviness has been filling up the room since you have gotten together.”
Kihyun rolled his eyes as he pushed off from the wall and pulled open the door. He sighed as he looked at you, his expression asking if you were coming along.
You sucked at your back teeth, wincing as you stood. You didn’t even care about the OST anymore, you just wanted to be out of this uncomfortable situation.
“You need to get your shit together,” Kihyun hissed, almost as soon as you stepped into the hallway. You could hardly believe his words. You looked down, realizing his muscular fingers were wrapped around your arm. You shook him off, recoiling from his touch and shot him the dirtiest look you could muster.
“Don’t touch me,” you spat. “I need to get my shit together? At least I’m not accosting my singing partner in the hallway.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, accosting?” Kihyun groaned. “I was hoping to shake some sense into you.”
“I’m not one to let the villain win,” you whispered. “But I can’t do this anymore. I quit.”
You began to enter the studio again, only to have Kihyun grip you by the shoulder and spin you around. He tugged you a bit further down the hall, causing you to drag your feet in an attempt to halt him.
“What in the hell Kihyun?” you gasped as he finally stopped, looking around to see the area he had pulled you to wasn’t as well lit and only led to an emergency exit.
He turned, placing either of his hands on the opposite side of the wall beside your face. He pushed his body entirely too close to yours, the heat of his emotion radiating toward you. He used his arms as a cage in which you were incapable of escaping. Your breathing grew more shallow at his close proximity, unknowingly allowing him to search your face with scrutiny.
“I’ll scream,” you whispered, your eyes not backing down from his.
“Do it,” Kihyun hissed back, his words a challenge. You opened your lips for a moment, considering the idea, but promptly closed them, knowing full well you couldn’t get him into that sort of trouble.
“Why am I the villain? And who even calls people villains anymore?” he continued. You looked out of your peripherals at his hands encasing you, flat against the wall. His chest was flush against yours, a constant reminder of his existence and absurdity of the situation.
“Who has who pinned to the wall?” you mumbled. “But you’re the one who seems to have a problem with me, Yoo Kihyun. It’s not the other way around.”
“Why in the hell would I have a problem with you?” Kihyun spit. “You’re the one making this whole situation awkward.”
“What kind of skewed universe are you living in?” you laughed bitterly. “You’ve treated me as if I was a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe ever since my group won at Music Bank.”
“You think that’s what this is about?” Kihyun gaped. “A stupid award show?”
“Then what is it about? Enlighten me!” you gasped.
Kihyun nodded for a moment, his eyes focusing on your lips before he looked back up to you. “Have you ever heard…that some men show their emotions like children sometimes? That they will bully women they have feelings for?…I think…I think I can show you better than I can explain it to you.”
“This isn’t a drama, Kihyun,” you grumbled. “I don’t t know if this OST has you in your feelings, but-”
Your words were abruptly cut off as Kihyun pressed his lips into yours. The kiss was hesitant at first, soft with uncertainty. Surely Kihyun had some idea that you could possibly rear back and smack the smugness from his face, but you were unsure if you wanted to do that. Your vision had begun to blur in the few moments before you finally decided to close your eyes and kiss back.
Kihyun took this as a signal to remove his hands from the wall and let them rest lightly on your waist. You lifted your own fingers to curl around the back of his neck and play with the hair at his nape. With his tongue, Kihyun parted your lips, using his force to tilt your head back and explore even further. You relaxed into the kiss, getting over the initial shock and allowed him to do what he wanted. All of the angst and anxiety from the day melted away and into the kiss. Nothing about today had felt more right than this moment. Kihyun pulled you closer, stroking your back through the thin cotton of your t-shirt. Surely, this would give you inspiration for your song.
“Kihyun! Y/N! Where did you go?” the deep voice belonging to Kihyun’s manager called down the hallway.
Kihyun’s lips detached from yours, taking a small moment to smile at you. “We’re coming…
…well, not yet. I’ll have you doing that tonight actually.”
People seem to act like Bucky is the only person with severe PTSD, when Tony Stark has been suffering from it since he picked the funvee.
Yeah Bucky deserves help. Yes Tony made some shitty choices regarding that situation, and if Steve had actually treated him like a person and told him about his parents, maybe he would have been in the mental headspace to be able to help Bucky instead. I mean I love Steve, but he treats Tony like piece of chewing gum stuck to his shoe.
But people rarely seem willing to acknowledge the amount of mental crap that Tony has to deal with. I mean after we take into account the extreme physiological issues he has given the toxic environment he grew up in, having to be raised in the public eye, expected to become the most powerful private citizen in america, he was then:
1. Blown up by his own bomb, resulting in the deaths of multiple young soldiers who he was befriending
2. Confronted with the fact that his extremely advanced bombs were being sold without his knowledge on the black market and being used to kill civilians.
3. Forced to undergo a brutal invasive surgery and recover in a dank cave.
4. Waterborded for 3 months (as a civilian, and with a massive electrical device in his chest that could short out at any moment)
5. Betrayed by a man that he viewed as more of a father than his own dad. Discouvered not only did he sell Tonys tech on the black market, but he also ordered the hit on him, and then attempts to kill him again- for monetary gain- by yanking out his heart.
6. Found out the only thing keeping him alive was also poisoning him to death
7. Came face to face with the man who his father idolised and gave him a massive inferiority complex over, and was told by that man that he was pathetic.
8. Flew a nuke through a wormhole into space.
9. Had his home blown up on top of him
10. Was ‘killed’ and none of his newfound avengers friends showed up to help him
11. His girlfriend was hurt just to ‘prove a point’ to him which plays right into his guilt issues.
12. When he reached out to one of those absent friends to explain his story, said friend fell asleep, and it was treated like a comedy moment rather that Tony being activly ignored with he was trying to ask for someone to listen to him.
13. Someone went into his mind and gave him visions of all his friends dead because of him.
14. Was blamed for creating a mechanical supervillan who killed hundreds of people when a) it actually largley created itself, and b) his actions where triggered by someone who never got held accountable for any of it.
15. Lost one of the only ‘people’ he truely trusted- J.A.R.V.I.S. Ultron even says he ‘killed the other guy’. Once again no one sympathised with him- they instead yelled at him.
16. Was once again blamed for absolutely everything by the man his father raised him to idolise.
17. The woman he loved dumped him because of his continued involvment with the avengers (which was probably a very healthy move on Pepper’s part, but not great for Tony’s guilt issues or his headspace).
18. Was confronted by a woman who actively blamed him for her sons death in the Ultron incident.
18. Decided to sign a legal agreement which would stop him being able to create a program like Ultron again because of his guilt. Got yelled at for essentially ‘selling out’. Got told their judgment is still the best despite all of his choices being belittled and judged to the enth degree.
19. His best friend is paralysed because of a massive fight with someone he trusted.
20. People who he used to trust and call his friends verbally deride him for trying to do the right thing for once, rather than actually try and talk to him and understan his point of view, or concil him against it.
21. Found out that someone he considered a friend lied to him about his parents, and most specifically his mothers, death, and is now protecting their murderer from any justice or even formal treatment, for his own self interest, even when its been shown said killer can easily be reactivated
22. Beaten half to death by two supersoldiers and then abandoned in siberia.
I mean Tony is NOT perfect, he fucks up A LOT, but when other people in MCU fuck up or have trouble people sympathise with them, but when its Tony, all they do is just judge him and belittle him
I’ve been meaning to write something for the Hell’s Studio AU because I love it a lot, and theseposts finally inspired me. Anyway I wrote this really fast so it’s not great but here we go. AU belongs to @doodledrawsthings
Bendy uses invisible ink for practical jokes. Sammy’s revenge is a dish served sticky.
a/n: HI long time no write i apologize lmao i’ve been on break so i wanted to take some time to myself but here’s a little drabble that goes with my boxer!jimin au “into you” go read it if you want :) sorry for any mistakes i”m tired lol anyway you can leave requests! let me know if you like this x
Summary: As far as nicknames go, (Y/N) didn’t quite mind hers.
Dedicated too: How gorgeous Conor Maynard is.
“Bubs has been here for literally five minutes and she’s already taken over my kitchen.”
“Bubs, truth or dare?”
“Bubs, think fast!”
As far as nicknames went, (Y/N)’s wasn’t the strangest out there. She’d only ever been referred to as a shortened version of her name before, and was never given any truly sought after nicknames; but the day she met the boys, that all changed.
She’d been dating Conor for around three months, and after a series of totally spontaneous and unplanned events, she’d managed to meet every single member of the buttercream squad within the space of five hours.
It was crazy, really. You went from being strangers one day to acting as if you’d known each other for years the next. It was as if you all just instantly clicked, like you were the missing piece to their puzzle.
Back to the nickname fiasco, the first time you were ever referred to as ‘bubs’, was when Joe heard it on a TV show and immediately thought of you: for some unknown reason. The boys were all watching TV in Joe’s house and seeing as the kitchen and the living room were joined, (Y/N) had volunteered to make dinner whilst also watching the show from across the room.
It started off with just Joe calling her it, until it slowly but surely spread infectiously to the rest of the group, from Joe to Conor, to Jack and then Josh and Oli; eventually Caspar and Mikey caught on too. Within two months of knowing her, they’d already found a solid nickname that just eliminated any need for her actual name.
After you and Conor decided to go public with your relationship, the boys began to catch you in more of their vlogs, have you feature in their videos and help them with their setups. You were a huge part of the buttercream squad, and you meant alot to each and every member.
The viewers didn’t exactly know how to react to the nickname, they were still getting used to seeing you so often and the fact that the boys seemed so attached to you just made things a little more easy. There was never much hate sent towards her, though she was constantly spammed with comments that just said 'bubs’.
Everyone wanted an explanation for the nickname, but there really wasn’t one to give. Instead, when asked the question during Q&A videos or anything like that, the boys would just shrug and move on; which raised suspicion.
There was a period of speculation from the fans, a whole bunch of wild theories being thrown out into the open. In the end, Jack featured (Y/N) in a video and they gave the most honest answer the could, that Joe had simply heard it on the TV and it’d just clicked.
Tonight was a Friday night, and you and Conor had decided against going out with the boys and instead planned on staying home, streaming the new season of Game Of Thrones and eating takeout food. It was the perfect plan, until Mikey decided that he wanted to join in on the action too.
It’d been a long week for the majority of the boys, but they were all willing to plough through the exhaustion and enjoy their longly awaited night out; all except Mikey.
He was like a piece of gum stuck on the bottom of a shoe, once he’d made himself at home there was no getting rid of him. God, they loved Mikey to bits, but sometimes they needed their alone time.
But (Y/N) didn’t have the heart to tell the man to leave, so instead she found ways to include Mikey in their festivities, from playing a cut throat game of shot scrabble to having competitions to see who could eat their noodles fastest without using their hands.
Now though, (Y/N) and Conor had cuddled up on the loveseat and Mikey’d made himself comfortable on the one seater. They were watching some trashy comedy show that actually wasn’t so bad, and the takeout containers were abandoned on the coffee table, ready to be cleaned up at a moments notice.
“You tired, baby?” Conor murmured as you snuggle further into his chest, nodding slowly and yawning into his black shirt. Conor looks up and narrows his eyes at the guy in the leather jacket. “Mikey, out.”
He looks up in shock. “Wait, what? It’s only like,” he glances down at his watch. “Ten pm.”
“My girlfriend is tired, therefor you are leaving. So, shoo.” He says, a serious tone in his voice but even as tired she was (Y/N) could tell that he was only kidding. “I’ll pop over to Jack’s tomorrow, you’re filming, right?”
Mikey nods as he stands up and begins to gather together his things. “Bubs, can you bake some brownies and bring them?”
(Y/N) hums and glances up at him from Conor’s chest with another yawn. “Yeah, be safe getting home.”
“Always.” He grins widely as he opens the front door and leaves before slamming it way more aggressively than necessary.
Conor rolls his eyes, but they soften when he looks back down at his sleepy girlfriend. “Come on you, let’s get you into bed.”
As he stands up with her in his arms, she rests her head on his shoulder and breathes against his neck softly, causing the hairs on his arms to raise. “Hey, Con?”
They say they cut you down so you would grow back stronger. They say “look at you! I was right!” But they fail to realize that they were cut down too, and now have less worth than a piece of gum stuck to your shoe. You were this strong from the beginning, even if you hid it from everyone. Even if you hid it from yourself.
prompt: jimon + sleeping together and then agreeing to pretend it never happened, but obviously that doesn't work *flails*
hi!! thank you for the prompt i wrote this while i was writing my essay and it was the best kind of distraction
Jace remembers exactly how it happened, because he’s not the kind of
drunk to forget things, and he wasn’t even that drunk anyway; he remembers
exactly how they’d moved, Simon’s eyes full
of promise as they’d kissed, slow and languid and unhurried in a dark corner of
Magnus’ party, and then they’d stumbled into one of the bedrooms; he remembers
exactly how his heart had broken, clinging desperately to this one chance to be
selfish and have what he wanted, and maybe that’s the saddest thing of all.
The memory is burned across the forefront of his mind, of Simon leaning
in and whispering, low, his body swaying slightly to the music why are you here, Jace, I’m not even your
type, man. And it was meant to be a joke, the kind they’re allowed to tease
each other with now that they’re friends, or something like friends-adjacent,
but Jace had been stupid-confident with the low, exhilarating buzz of alcohol
and he’d leaned in closer, too close, and whispered back but you are and Simon had made a low, thrilled noise; he’d pressed
into Jace until there was no space left between them and sealed their mouths
I wanted to do something for the upcoming holiday. I haven’t made a rec list for awhile, so here is a list of some really wonderful fics. This is a wide variety, so hopefully everyone will find something to enjoy. I went back through my last three months of reading, so they should all be fairly new. Enjoy. <3
Derek is a simple horseman from the mountains, Stiles is an enthusiastic university graduate ready to make a name for himself. In any other situation, they would have gone their entire lives never having met. It’s probably a good thing then, that they both happened to be in the wrong place at the right time.
Stiles loves A Fox’s Tale, a bookstore he took over after his mom dies. Unfortunately, a box store, Hale’s Wolftastic Books, is moving town and is going to be tough competition, but he has his friends, family, and texting buddy, Mr. Grumpy to help him through it.
Derek is annoyed to be moving to Beacon Hills to help start up the newest branch of Hale’s Wolftastic Books and to help Laura prepare for her upcoming wedding. He’s surprised to find himself falling in love with the town, and it’s inhabitants. If only his texting conversations with Smartass weren’t emotionally confusing.
Years ago, when they were first starting out both in their relationship and their careers, when they were babies and hardly understood their car insurance let alone the multi-billion dollar, all-consuming, world-encompassing, life-altering business of news reporting—back then, Derek would practice his expressions in the mirror, and Stiles would think, I’m so glad he’ll never have to use that face with me.
And then Stiles screwed up, and he’s seen nothing but that face for the past two years. Aesthetically, it’s still an awesome face, and it probably always will be, but Derek is so much more than another hot dude. And he always will be.
Stiles has been fucking obsessed with famous werewolf author Derek Hale since he was fifteen years old and the first book came out. Like, embarrassingly obsessed. Like, had a poster of the guy hanging up on the wall above his bed, obsessed. When Hale moved back to Beacon Hills, Stiles just figured he’d hole himself up in his rebuilt mansion, writing his fourth book, never to fulfill Stiles’ endless daydreams about running into him and having the alpha fall madly in love with him.
It’s completely fucking improbable and nonsensical, would never happen in a million years, so of course Stiles somehow winds up in a no-strings-attached agreement with his literary idol, all while eating chicken McNuggets out of his pocket at random intervals and plotting the demise of the McFlurry mixer.
“And Stiles,” he’s addressed directly for the first time since this whole thing started, and when all eyes land on him this time, he just squeezes Derek’s hand and squares his shoulders. He can act like this doesn’t bother him. Derek can do it, and Derek’s here. He’ll be okay. “…how does it feel to know that millions upon millions of people are going to read intimate, private details about your life with Derek?”
“It doesn’t bother me,” Stiles says with a shrug, going for nonchalant and feeling like he’s doing it pretty well. “I knew what I was getting into. Besides – everyone wants Derek Hale to write about them, right?”
It isn’t fair that Stiles needs to work Christmas, when his dad is on the other side of the country. Or that his really hot, next door neighbour is around for the holidays as well. Or that there’s a power outage that makes things even worse. Or better.
All Derek wants is one day where he can sleep without worry of being woken by gunfire, without the threat of death hanging over his head. He wants a full stomach and no pain clinging to his bones, no ache in his feet from months of running. He wants a shower, a safe place to put his head. He wants his family, the healing comfort of pack. He’ll never have any of that again.
War is hell. Falling in love with enemy solider Derek Hale, secretly mating him, and then accidentally being left behind by him when the war suddenly and violently ends is a special kind of hell apparently reserved for one human omega Stiles Stilinski. But Stiles is determined to find his mate again, because Derek left more than just Stiles in a war-ravaged and werewolf-hating country - and with danger at every turn and nothing but Derek’s gun and his own wits for protection, hell hath no fury like Stiles now.
Yeah, that was pretty bad, but what was worse was having spent the last three years pretending to hate Stiles, because it was better than being the guy who failed at emotions and got rejected for them, and now Derek was locked in the same room as him under the promise they would only be let out when they “did something about their sexual tension”.
Derek and Stiles get locked in a room together at an office Christmas party and end doing something about all that unresolved sexual tension.
And Derek just stood there, staring at Stiles like he was a ghost.
“Dude, I know it’s been a while but you don’t have to look at me like you’re that surprised I’m hung over in the woods. It’s practically a tradition at this point.”
“Stiles?” Derek whispered, the name falling from his lips like a punch to the gut. Stiles watched, confused, as Derek took a deep breath in and took a shaky step forward then back again. “You’re not- you can’t be. Who are you?”
Derek doesn’t want to call the window repair guy. He doesn’t want to sweep up the glass. He’ll inevitably miss a few shards and pull them out of the bottom of his bare feet for weeks.
He doesn’t want to try to make this place feel like home when it isn’t.
Derek stayed in Beacon Hills and tried to make it work because he wanted pack, wanted purpose. He gave his best effort and found himself back where he started: alone, with a few begrudging allies. He’s tired, and even though his werewolf body heals quickly, he feels the weary ache down to his center.
He packs his car with the few things he cares about enough to drag them from place to place. He locks the loft and calls a realtor about listing the building he’d bought in a misguided attempt to secure a future.
Ten years ago, there was a major war between the supernatural world and the mundane. Now Beacon Hills is cut off and the Argents are in control, and the supernatural creatures are slowly being hunted down. But when Stiles, who was adopted by the Argents after the death of his parents, makes friends with the Hale Pack, things start to change…
Twenty-eight year old federal agent Derek Hale has been out of the family for some time, and he likes it that way. After six years of no contact with Laura, everything changes when Derek is sent back to Beacon Hills to infiltrate his old family.
And that’s how Derek meets Stiles.
Stiles is Peter’s favorite dancer. He’s Peter’s arm candy. He’s his little trophy to flaunt. The son of the one man who almost put Peter away–a cautionary tale for people to heed when thinking about going against Peter. Everyone knows the Sheriff is still in the hospital, his wife in a grave, his son in the devil’s den.
Derek doesn’t buy into it for a second. There is a way Stiles looks at Peter, like he’s the scum of the earth–like he’s a piece of gum stuck on his shoe that he can’t wait to scrape off. There is the way Stiles only lets Peter touch him for so long before he pulls away.
Derek knows that Stiles is there for ulterior motives, but Stiles is smarter than he looks. He’s more determined. If only Derek could get Stiles on his side.
Scott McCall, “Stiles” Stilinski, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, and Jackson Whittemore are the hot-shot pilots of the USAAF’s Flight Five, based out of southern England in the end of 1943. The tide is maybe starting to turn in the war, but there’s still so many battles left to fight, so many bombs to drop, so many missions to run.
Up-and-coming young photographer Derek Hale of Life Magazine is sent out to do his first war coverage: interviews with and photographs of the brave young men of Alpha Squadron, Flight Five. It’s supposed to be an easy assignment- snap some photos of the boys and their planes, and go home.
But when you’re in the heat of the moment, when you’re faced with life and death, who’s got your back? Who is in that moment with you? When you start to ask that question, it’s after that when nothing is easy again.
Derek is trying (and failing) to juggle his career, coach lacrosse, and raise his 5 year old werewolf daughter. When he adds his bitter ex-wife and his daughter’sslight attachment to him, Derek knows he doesn’t have any time for a life of his own - and definitely no time for the super cute daycare teacher.
When Derek left Beacon Hills, finally ripping the tether free and remembering how to breathe, how to live again, it was Stiles who came after him. Stiles, who showed up at his door with blazing eyes, looking like he wanted to punch him in the face, but wrapping his arms around him instead, making him grunt in surprise at the raw strength of his embrace.
“You asshole,” Stiles said, slapping him heartily on the back as he extricated himself, his voice rough under his bright smile. “You couldn’t have made yourself harder to find, could you?”
Stiles is standing there in his uniform, hair long and hands behind his back. There’s a blush on his cheeks and he can barely look Derek in the eye.
“Hey,” he whispers. He’s wearing the medal Derek had presented to him.
Derek stares. He doesn’t think he’s breathing anymore.
Stiles is the soldier who saved Derek and brought him back home. He doesn’t seem to care that Derek’s a prince or that he’s a little bit broken. Derek falls, quick and sure, but it’s not easy knowing that Stiles will soon have to return to the war.
I was wondering if you could write a fic (inspired by the Extra gum commercial) where for every momentous event that happened in their life (First meet, first kiss, etc), Jughead writes about his feelings about her and he compiles all his little notes until the end where he gives it to Betty before proposing to her Ps. if you could have it where Jughead includes his proposal note for Betty to read before he actually proposes to her, I'll probably die from the feels
Ah! Sorry this took so long, I loved the idea so much but I wasn’t sure how I wanted to execute it so I hope it does this amazing request justice!
A/N: I wasn’t sure of when they first met in canon, so I just made something up. Sorry if it’s totally wrong lol. Also, I referenced a fic I wrote about their first date so you can find that here. Hope you like it @jeemyjamz!!!
Betty stepped into Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe expecting to find Jughead waiting for her in the same booth they had been meeting at since they were kids. Instead, she found the entire restaurant decorated the way it had been on their first date nearly ten years ago, twinkle lights and candles illuminating the entire room in a beautiful white light that made everything glow.
“Juggie?” Betty called out to the empty restaurant, scanning the room from one end to the other for any sign of him and realizing that he was nowhere to be found. In fact, it looked as though there was no one working in the kitchen or behind the counter either. She was completely alone. And it was starting to make her nervous.
“Okay, don’t freak out, you’re fine,” Betty muttered to herself, shrugging off her jacket and tossing it into a booth next to her. But instead of landing in the booth, the long black coat missed the seat completely and landed into a heap on the floor. Frustrated, Betty bent down to retrieve it when she noticed markings on the tile that hadn’t been there the previous day. “What’s this?”
Betty leaned forward to find that a line of arrows were drawn in thick black marker all along the tiled floor. Curious, Betty followed their lead until she ended up standing in front of the same booth she had thought she would find Jughead when she first entered the restaurant. But instead of her boyfriend, she found a thick, leather-bound journal waiting for her on the table. Picking it up, she noticed the sticky note stuck to the cover and smiled to herself, reading the words slowly as she took in the familiar slant of Jughead’s handwriting.
“Betty Cooper, if you weren’t such as grade-A super sleuth, I wouldn’t have trusted you to find this - but luckily for me, you’re a much better detective than I ever was so I suspect you have found the journal and are reading this note right now. I guess I should tell you that I’m giving this to you because I’ve been writing in this book since I was ten-years-old and every single entry is a memory of our time together. I’ve marked the ones of the most interest and am hoping that you will read them and not think less of me. Once you’ve reached the last page and you have followed the directions, you will find me waiting for you. Have fun traveling down memory lane. See you on the other side.”
Taking a deep breath, Betty opened to the first marked page and began to read.
The First Day of Kindergarten (Age 5)
This is the day I first met you. I saw your parents dropping you off in the classroom and remember thinking that you had the shiniest blonde hair I had ever seen. All I could think about the entire day - during nap time and recess and snack - was running up to you and pulling on that curly blonde ponytail of yours. So I did. And while most of the girls in our class would have cried or screamed or thrown blocks at my head, you simply turned around, smiled that sweet smile of yours, and said, “Hi. I’m Betty Cooper. If you want, you can sit with me on the carpet during circle time. I’ll even let you touch my ponytail. All you have to do is ask.” I couldn’t believe it. A five-year-old with better manners than most of the adults in my life. My mind couldn’t fully grasp it, and I knew, even if I didn’t fully understand it at the time, that my entire world was about to change. So once I learned how to write in complete sentences without fully botching the grammar - that’s when I started this journal for you. A journal of all the times you changed my life. A journal of how my world continues to change everyday because of you.
Betty flipped to the next page and immediately noticed that the handwriting had changed. These were the entries that he had written when he was a kid. And they were addressed to her.
The Day You Let Me Sit On Your Swing Set (Age 10)
I spent most of the day crying. My dad’s drinking again. He’s so angry at mom and Jellybean is scared and I just needed to get away from them. So I took Jellybean and we just kept walking until we found ourselves in front of your house. You saw us and without saying a word, you led us into your backyard. You got Jellybean a popsicle because you saw that she was sad, and then we just sat on your swing set thinking of silly names to call the birds landing in your yard until your mom came home. It made be feel a little better. That was really nice of you and I’ll never forget it.
The Day of the Middle School Dance (Age 13)
I hate participating in school sanctioned-activities. I would rather stick a dozen pins in my eyes and beat them down with a hammer than be seen in a ridiculous suit and tie, parading through the cheaply-decorated school gym like I’m oblivious to the way everyone is looking at me like I’m the scum of the Earth but talk to me anyway because I’m friends with Archie. But anyway, I saw you sitting on the curb outside of the school, looking down at your shoes like there was a piece of gum stuck on the bottom. (But there wasn’t, I remember checking when you lifted your feet off the ground so Reggie wouldn’t run over them with his skateboard). So I sat next to you and asked you why you were sad. You said you didn’t want to talk about it, but I could see you staring at Archie from across the parking lot and I knew you were sad he didn’t ask you to the dance. I knew how badly you wanted to go. So I asked you to come to the dance with me instead. To my surprise you said yes. And we had a good time. And I think that if you wanted me to ask you to another dance, I would do it. Because I think you look really pretty in a dress. (Well, I always think you look pretty). But seeing you in a dress was different somehow. It made my heart beat really fast. And I think I liked how that felt.
The Day of Our First Kiss (Age 16)
Something has changed between us. Something I could never put into words. Something that, if I even tried to say it out loud, I would never be able to explain it in a way that would do it justice. So I climbed into your bedroom to see if you were alright after visiting Polly and I wanted to make you feel like everything was going to be okay. I wanted you to know that things had changed and you could count on me to be there for you. So I kissed you. And it was like a weight being lifted off my chest and I could finally breathe again. It felt so natural. It felt like I was meant to kiss you like that everyday for the rest of forever. And who knows, maybe I will. Although, let’s face it - we both know I’m not lucky enough to deserve that - to deserve you. I never have been.
The Day I Told You I Loved You (Age 17)
Today was the best and worst day of my life. My father’s funeral felt like it lasted an entire lifetime. It was cold and wet and gave every indication that it was recreated from a scene straight out of a Poe novel. But you were right by my side the entire time and it made it (almost) bearable to be standing there watching him get lowered into the ground. You held me when I cried. You pulled me away when I let my anger get the better of me and punched my hand through the stained glass window of the church. And when you were wrapping the bandage around my wound I felt this voice screaming at me - you have to tell her. You have to tell her before it’s too late because too late might be tomorrow and life is just too short to waste any moments. So I told you. I told you and you smiled and you said it back. And I cried again because I didn’t think anyone could ever love me like that. But you do. And I know I don’t deserve it, but I will never take it for granted.
The Day You Left Riverdale (Age 19)
I should hate you. I should be glad you’re gone and hope you never step foot on this godforsaken town’s soil ever again. I should want to wish the worst for you and hope you never succeed in anything you do. But I’m not the person I would have been if I had never met you. You changed me. So I can’t hate you. I’m too in love with you to hate you. And it kills me to write this so bluntly, but there’s no other way to put it - This sucks. And it’s you’re fault.
The Day You Came Back (Age 23)
The moment you stepped into my office, I knew I had to be having one of those hallucinations one gets when they’re stuck in the desert for days without food or water. You couldn’t be real. You couldn’t be walking towards me with your hair pulled back and your face even more beautiful than I remembered. But there you were. You were you. And I was me. And I had so much to say. So much you needed to know. But instead, I took a step towards you, and you looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes and I realized that I couldn’t stand another second of not touching you. So I took your face in my hands and I kissed you and suddenly we didn’t need words. We just needed each other. And that was enough.
Betty wiped the tears from her eyes and turned to the next page. “Flip to the last page and close your eyes,” the words read, causing Betty’s head to swim with so many thoughts and emotions she couldn’t even begin to comprehend.
Doing as the journal instructed, she skipped to the very last page and shut her eyes before she could read what was written. She could hear faint footsteps coming towards her and her palms began to sweat as she clutched the journal with both hands.
“Open your eyes and look at the journal.” Jughead’s voice made her heart skip a beat as she slowly did as she was told and lifted the book to read the title of the last journal entry.
The Day I asked You To Marry Me (Age 25)
…To Be Continued
Betty’s heart stopped as she dropped the journal onto the floor and looked down to see the boy she had loved for so many years, kneeling before her with a velvet ring box in his hand.
“Bets, there are a thousand eloquent speeches I could have written to express how much you mean to me, but I don’t think we need the fancy words or heartfelt soliloquies anymore,” Jughead began, his hand shaking ever so slightly as he held the box out in front of him for her to see. “I think that all I need to say to you is this. I’ve been in love with you since the very first entry in that journal. I didn’t know what it meant at the time, but I think the fact that I felt the need to start it in the first place is proof enough. You’re my world, Betty Cooper, and I want to be able to fill a hundred more journals just like this one with every memory that we share together for the rest of time. Will you marry me?”
In that moment, every memory she had of Jughead flashed across her mind just like the pages in his journal. The boy who loved playing with her ponytail, the boy who needed a swing to swing on and a friend to watch birds with when he was feeling sad, the boy who could tell when she was sad and needed someone to go to the dance with, the boy who lit up her world like twinkle lights and decorative candles illuminating Pop’s. She had spent most of her life with this boy - this man - kneeling in front of her and she wanted to spend everyday that came next, right by his side.
Without a word, Betty took the journal from his hands and lunged for the pen on the counter, her hand shaking as she wrote furiously in the journal. Jughead’s throat closed up as he watched in anticipation, waiting for the girl he loved to answer the most important question he had ever asked in his entire life. Betty turned the journal so he could read it and he stood from his kneeling position to scoop her up into his arms, tossing the journal onto the floor so that it slid across the tile and revealed Betty’s words to the empty diner.
The choice of Lynette is purposeful. Fuckery guaranteed. Stick a fork in this shit, it's done.
Maybe Sam will autograph her dildo with his face on it. Or she can show us more pictures of her lounging on the boat set in SA with gum stuck to her shoe. Or she can refer to Cait as “only” in person. Or she can talk about how she unprofessionally live tweeted the first episode of the season when 99.9% of fans were not privy to seeing it. Or…okay bye.
Pairing: Reader x Bucky Word Count: 956 Warnings: Fighting, fluff, teasing,
A/N: This is the final part, I’m sorry (to everyone who loved this series) that this part took so long to get written (I was stuck on it for a while). Again, I want to thank @areuforreal for sending the request that started this fic series! I hope you enjoyed it
Feedback is always appreciated. Let me know if you want to be added to the tags list.
“What’s our plan, Cap?” Bucky called out as he walked over to the back of the quinjet where the rest of the team had gathered, ready to drop down into the battle zone below,
“Same as always,” Steve says as he positions the comms in his ear, “We go in, take out the Hydra guys, don’t die,”
You have to hold back a laugh as you nod at his words. These Midgardian’s really had no idea what they were doing, you’d have to show them how it’s done. The cargo hold of the quinjet slowly opens, and your Midgardian friends grab onto railings, making you and Thor chuckle as the wind whips past the two of you but doesn’t affect your balance.
“Y/N,” Bucky says, drawing your attention to him as he struggles to put on his parachute,
“Let me,” you interrupt him, grabbing the straps and making sure it’s properly fastened on him,
You see his cheeks flush pink for a moment before he drops his head, “Oh, thanks,” he mumbles, “I just wanted to say… Be careful, okay?”
You cock your head at the super soldier and you have to stop yourself from frowning in confusion as you feel your stomach flutter. You didn’t know how Bucky was making you feel like that, but you push it aside and give him a smile, “You too, Buck,”
You flash him a grin before you yell at the rest of your team, “See you down there!” and with that you drop out of the quinjet, backwards. As you fall towards the ground, you hear your team mates in your ear,
“Was she wearing a parachute!?” Bucky’s voice was high and panicked,
“No,” Thor chuckles, “She loves to be dramatic,”
You laugh to yourself at your fellow Asgardian’s words. You feel yourself picking up speed and gracefully twist your body through the air, coming to land on your feet on the ground and immediately start running at the Hydra agents.
You couldn’t wipe the grin off your face from the moment you enter the battle with the Hydra agents. You really loved fighting, it was what you were best at, and it was fairly easy against Midgardians.
You take out 5 Hydra agents by the time The Avengers landed, using parachutes. After a few minutes of fighting you’d noticed that Bucky stuck to you like gum sticks to a shoe.
“What are you doing?” you angrily grunt at him as you slice through a Hydra agent with your sword.
Bucky whips around, but before he can reply he lifts his gun and aims over your left shoulder. He fires a shot, and you hear a heavy thud. Looking behind you, you notice a Hydra agent, dead, on the ground right behind you.
“I’m watching your back,” he curtly replies, “Oh, and don’t mention it,” he smirks at you as he repeats the words you’d spoken to him when you’d met him.
His smile makes your stomach knot, and you feel an attraction to him. You smile back before you turn back around and continue fighting. You were fighting in auto-pilot mode now, all you could think about was Bucky and how little things he does makes you react.
“That was marvelous!” Thor booms out as he enters the living room, drawing the attention of the team, “Those Hydra asses had no chance against us… Especially with Lady Y/N in our ranks,” he pulls you into your side as he chuckles, “Unfortunately, our visit has to be cut short,”
“What?” you stare up at Thor, “Since when?”
“You knew that our trip was only going to be a short one,” Thor cocks an eyebrow at you.
You steal a glance at Bucky. He won’t meet your gaze, and you grab Thor’s hand, starting to drag him away from the living area.
“You don’t want to leave?” Thor correctly guesses,
“I-I can’t just yet,” you furrow your brow at your own thought process. You loved Midgard, but you’d never hesitated returning to your home. Until now, you felt a need to stay,
“Anything to do with Bucky?” Thor’s lips curl up into a smirk,
You consider lying, but you’d never lied to Thor before, you weren’t going to start now, “I think so?”
Thor’s smirk stays plastered on his face, “I knew it!” he exclaims, “The fearless warrior does have a heart,”
“It’s just…” you pause to gather your thoughts, “When he looks at me… I feel… odd,”
“That, my dear friend, is called love,” Thor claps a hand on your shoulder,
“What? No,” you shake your head, “He must have some kind of power. He makes me smile by just being near me… I feel as though my stomach flips when he says my name. That can’t be normal,”
“Lady Y/N,” Thor looks at your sincerely, “That’s exactly what I feel for my Jane,”
You can’t help but smile as you realise Thor is right. You knew of love, read about and heard about it. But you’d never thought you’d feel it for yourself.
“Just promise you’ll visit often?” Thor smiles at you as you nod.
After searching for Bucky all over the compound, you deduct that the only place he could be was in his room. You softly knock on his door.
“Come in,” Bucky’s voice calls through the door. As you open his door, you’re met with Bucky looking lost, “Y/N,” he sits up straighter as he sees you, “Shouldn’t you be with Thor… Going back home?”
“I’m not going,” you smile at him,
“W-why?” he stutters,
“I… I’ve found something worth staying for,”
Bucky takes a moment to realise your meaning, looking at you with a silent question. His face lights up when you nod.
"What did they feed you there? What did you eat?“ Mike asked. He didn’t want her getting an upset stomach from unfamiliar foods, plus what if she was allergic to something? El furrowed her brow in frustration, unable to find the words to explain. What was it called? Some sort of drink. In the lab, she was given a drink with every meal. Along with the tasteless and colorless foods she was given, the bad men served her a thick concoction that looked like melted ice cream, but tasted nothing like it. Despite it’s cold temperature, the liquid burned her throat as she choked it down. It tasted like dirt and copper, like the blood that dripped from her nose. The sludge slid down her throat slowly like a slug that had come from The Upside Down. It’s aftertaste clung to her throat like how gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe last week. Growing up in the lab meant knowing exactly what was expected of her; always given orders but never told why. The drink was one of the only things she was ever given an explanation for, but it was only to push their agenda. They said it was to keep her strong and healthy after playtime. That was supposed to help keep her mind sharp. If anything, though, it made her feel even worse. Bile rose in her throat after every sip and she remembered the punishment if she didn’t finish.
Awkwardly collecting your things from the floor, stumbling for your shoes and writing off that hair-clip as a lost cause as you sought out the nearest exit.
But with him, it was different.
Even the first time was amazing, when he was just the friend of a friend who came crashing into your life and stuck like gum on the bottom of your shoe. An attractive, lovable piece of gum.
Then came the second time, the third, the fourth, on until you lost count. The two of you were untouchable except to one another, an exciting secret behind closed doors. Why would anyone be in a relationship, when meetings like this could take place?
“We need to stop doing this.”
He muttered one evening, as he pulled his t-shirt back over his head, dark hair ruffled from behind as he refused to meet your eyes. Your breath caught as he went for his coat, as if marking his words with a prompt exit from your life. From nowhere, Hansol had reminded you that this, true to form, was nowhere near a relationship.
Up on cloud nine with him, you hadn’t even noticed that it had started to evaporate beneath you.
You were unable to form a response as your mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, fists clutching at the bedsheets like a lifeline. Still he had his back to you, and rage flared up within you.
Look at me, damn it. Look at me!
Why were you so angry? After all, it was you that made it clear that you weren’t in a relationship. It was you who had blundered into this pattern, pushing down any developing feelings. It was just physical, just a laugh, no emotional ties.
If only it were that easy.
In your haze, you failed to notice Hansol heading for the door, and when your head shot up you noticed he was finally staring your way. Somewhere far away, he was calling your name. Asking for your opinion, to agree to cutting this all off. To never seeing you again. How could you possibly answer that, ending it as quickly as it began? Saying goodbye to the person you lov-
“Do you care about me at all?”
The pitiful squeak of response was so broken, you struggled to believe that it had come from your mouth. Why the hell were you tearing up?
Taken aback, Hansol’s face swirled with confusion, brief anger and then finally indifference. His bright smile, warm eyes and comforting aura were shut off like a bartender denying a drunkard at the end of the night.
“No strings attached.” His response was barely a whisper, husked with rage as he opened the door and slipped out, briefly sending you a pained look over his shoulder.
Sometimes my bones feel like they are bending because of you. Like the things that are supposed to protect me are now crushing me, suffocating me. You make me want to tear apart my skin, unravel the seams and watch every single stitch break. I always feel as if there are hands wrapped around my neck. After that night, I cannot count how many hot showers I took, feeling the burning liquid scorch my skin, scratching at the life you stole. All just to feel normal again. But there is no more normal in my life since you stole it. I hate you with every fiber in my being. Just feeling your name at the back of my throat makes me sick. I have lost all my energy in trying to keep you far away. But you do not deserve my hatred, nor my time. You are nothing but a crack in the sidewalk, a piece of gum stuck to the side of my shoe. One day you will mean nothing to me. And you will no longer control my existence.