how are both of their birthdays on the same day and i never realized it until now

Harry Fake Dates Kendall but is in Love With You

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

Masterlist linked in bio.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry I’m late!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up, Gem.“

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

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

“She has gotten hotter, hasn’t she?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, stranger.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kendall?”

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

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

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

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

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

Last night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s the way you said it.”

“Are you being serious, Harry?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m so s—sorry, Anne.” Y/n cries.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mum—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, please.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“’s the matter?” He croaks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He kisses her again.

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

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

“Trust me, I always knew.”

the train of lost souls

fantasy au

pairing: jungkook | reader, hoseok | reader
genre: angst and tiny bits of fluff
word count: 13.610
warnings: mentions of past death 
author’s note: I promise it’s not tragic, though it might seem like it at first. pls believe in me! :)) on another note, let’s just pretend they are all the same age here, since I planned the story that way~


The moment you step inside the train, you are given two options.

You can choose to live, to be given a second and a last chance in life, in exchange for your memories and your previous existence. You can choose to be alive again, but it can only be an entirely new life. Everyone you’ve ever crossed paths with would forget your name. All the pain and the love you knew, all the ups and downs that made you hurt and made you smile — all of it, completely gone.

Or you can choose to move on, to give your life away while keeping your memories until the end of time. To step out of the world of the living and to embrace a new kind of loneliness, but with the warmth of your past always safe between your cold hands.

You are dead, but it’s up to you to do something about it.

The choice is solely yours.

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BTS Reaction - Their child runs on stage

Anonymous said: Reaction when during concert their little child run up on star with tears and saying something like"daddy this song is beatiful,you sing perfect" and starts crying and hugging him and all ARMYS make one sound like “owwwh cute” and kid gets shy🙈

So I’ve decided to just come up with Korean names for each of their kids. I feel like that makes it a little more personalized, rather than just putting Y/K/N. Also, my name is Sarah. I’m American and only know a small amount of Korean, so if I screw up these names somehow…I am so sorry and please politely correct me lol. Enjoy!

I kind of wonder if Taehyung picked those names for his future children because Taekwon sounds like Tae Kwon Do…Taekwon literally means “kick hand”

Taehyung:

You were having trouble controlling your three year old, Taekwon, as he toddled around backstage, huge red earphones covering his ears from the noise of the concert. You brought him with often to BTS concerts, because he enjoyed being able to watch his dad, his uncles, and look at all the bright lights. Although normally, he wasn’t this nuts. Jimin’s wife must’ve given Taekwon a Popsicle or something earlier that day, because your kid was bouncing off the walls.

Whenever they preformed Spring Day, it would get everyone onstage emotional. Taekwon knew his dad’s voice - and would always ask you to pick him up and point out Taehyung singing his part in Spring Day. This time was no different, because your baby tugged on your pant leg and threw his arms up.

“Where daddy?” Taekwon asks in his baby voice, his hands gesturing out and his shoulders shrugging. You smile and point at the figure across the stage. Taekwon looks, struggles in your arms before you put him down and turn to grab a water bottle from the cooler on the floor.

As you’re digging in the ice for a cold bottle, you hear a huge chorus of “aww”’s coming from the stage, and the boys laughing. Securing yourself a water bottle and turning around, you glance up and notice that your son is not where you left him - and has run out onto the stage into his dad’s arms. You watched with a hand covering your mouth as Taehyung crouches to catch his son and hoists him up on his hip.

“Your singing is nice!” You hear your son say loudly into Taehyung’s microphone, and laughter rumbles throughout the arena.

“Thanks, buddy. Can you sing a song for us?” Taehyung asks, expecting his son to blurt out the words to Spring Day, but Taekwon begins to sing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star instead, which makes the entire arena resound with sounds of adoration.

Suga:

Twins. You and Suga never expected them in the first place, and it’s been a wild four years with them. Their birthday was soon, and you still remember the day they were born - Min Yoon-Shik first then Min Gi-Dae second.

The twins became more like their dad everyday, and you’d find the sisters singing along to all of BTS’ songs, and would try their hardest to rap alongside their dad in each song. They’d even try to learn the choreography - and while Suga wasn’t all that bad, the girls seemed to have gotten your side of the family: because there wasn’t a dancing bone in your body.

It was BTS’ last concert before they ended their latest tour, and you had decided to take the girls to this one to watch their dad preform. To say the least, the twins were extremely excited and kept their eyes focused on Suga the entire time. They even began copying his lyrics as he rapped them.

At the end of the concert, the boys sang Spring Day and had rose petals raining down on them, and the twins thought it was hilarious. Yoongi looked over to the side of the stage and an instant smile grew on his face at the sight of his baby girls, and he ushered the twins to come out on stage. Yoon-Shik and Gi-Dae looked at each other, then back at you for permission, then ran off onto the bright stage towards their dad.

“Can you teach us the dances for the songs?” Gi-Dae asked as Yoongi hoisted both her and her sister up in each arm. The entire arena sighed in awe, the other boys laughing at how cute Yoongi’s twins were.

“Ask Uncle Hobi for that,” Suga laughed jokingly, then kissed his daughters cheeks before setting them down. “Run along, I’ll see you in a few minutes loves.” He said aloud, before gently giving them little pats on their backs before turning around and thanking ARMY.

Jimin:

Jihyun was just like his father.

It wasn’t even funny - you swear you had no part in making your son because Jihyun was a spitting image of Jimin. It’s as if someone put Jimin in the copier and spit out Jihyun - all the same features and personality, just a different name, and much younger.

Jimin would often times take Jihyun to the studio because the five-year old loved watching the dance practices. Towards the end, Jimin would grab his son and teach him the moves - and his son would execute them almost perfectly. He was gifted, just like Jimin, and everyone saw it.

“Jihyun, stay here.” You said to your son, who was standing in the middle of the exit to the stage, watching his dad and uncles jump around as they began I Need U. Jihyun didn’t acknowledge your words, but tried his hardest to keep up with the minimal choreography he knew. It was adorable watching him spin around and trip over his feet - but he was better than any other five year old dancer you’ve seen (okay, maybe you were a little biased).

You didn’t realize it until you looked over on the TV screen to see your son just off to the left of the stage, visible to ARMY but behind the boys. Jihyun didn’t notice that he had veered too far onto the stage, and was too busy twirling around and singing along to I Need U to hear the ARMYs cooing.

You watched Jimin spin around when the song was done and lock his eyes on his son, immediately bursting into laughter and walking briskly over to Jihyun. 

“Jihyun, you’re giving everyone a show!” Jimin laughed, scooping up his son and bringing him to the front. The five year old looked miraculously at his father but began to enjoy being on stage with his uncles, who all came over and ruffled his hair.

“I’m gonna be like you one day,” Jihyun said with a bright smile while looking up at his dad. Jimin threw his head back in laughter and appreciation while the ARMYs in the crowd continued to awe. 

“I’m sure you will be, bud.” 

J-Hope:

Just like that - Hokyong was out of your sight and ran right into her dad’s arms. The two year old was the most excitable, energetic kid you had ever come to know, but you’d never trade that for the world. 

When Hokyong saw her dad, she would never hesitate to run over and hug him. It was just Hokyong’s thing - she’d laugh and toddle towards Hoseok with a big, toothy grin on her face. Your husband would just laugh right with her and cuddle his daughter in his arms.

“Look who has joined us today!” J-Hope said brightly into the microphone, glancing at his baby girl as she peered around with her hand stuck in her mouth. “Can you wave, Hokyong?” Her dad said, gently prying the hand out of the baby girl’s mouth.

Hokyong looked out into the crowd then shyly buried her face into her daddy’s shoulder, earning a huge, booming sound of adoration from the fans. The boys just laughed, Jimin coming over and patting your daughter’s back before looking back at you and shooting a thumbs up. You stood at the curtain watching, getting emotional at how perfect your little family was.

“Alright, baby. We have to finish the show, say bye-bye!” J-Hope said, putting the toddler down and grabbing her hand. Hokyong waved to the crowd before J-Hope walked her back to the side of the stage, kissing your lips before handing the baby back to you.

“My perfect girls,” he said, winking, before hoping back to his spot on stage and beginning BS&T.

Jungkook:

Your’s and Jungkook’s daughter had just turned a year old. She’d just began walking as well, and you decided to bring her to the last concert of the tour to celebrate her birthday with all the boys afterwards.

Jungmee was extremely intelligent, but very quiet and reserved. The baby girl had been a daddy’s girl from the beginning - always reaching for Jungkook when she was upset or wanted to be held. It was no surprise that Jungkook was the best dad in the world: he admitted he was nervous at first but seeing him with your baby girl was heart melting.

You sat with your daughter in your lap`as she stared out onto the stage, and from time to time, Jungkook would glance over and wave at you and Jungmee - winking and making silly faces. Finally, towards the end of the concert, you could tell your baby was getting tired. She was crabby, crying and struggling to get out of your arms, but whining when you but her down. 

When you put her down on the floor for what must’ve been the 100th time, you hoped she would somehow fall asleep despite the music echoing around the arena. Jungmee was sobbing now, screaming incoherent words as she had a tantrum right then and there. You sighed and over the course of 15 minutes, you picked her up and rocked her, tried to console her with a bottle and then resorted to just swaying back and forth with her in your arms as she screamed.

Jungkook must’ve noticed, and had watched you struggle to keep Jungmee calm. With a smile playing on his lips, he jogs over and stands in front of you, placing his hands under the arms of your daughter before taking Jungmee into his arms. She stops screaming, of course, but still hiccups as leftover tears roll down her cheeks.

“W-what are you doing?” You stammered.

“I want everyone to sing her happy birthday. It was going to be at the end of the concert, but it looks as if you could use a break..” He said, giving you a little smile as he walked back off onto the stage, looking adorable as he held Jungmee in one arm.

“It’s Jeon Jungmee’s birthday…I think we should sing happy birthday, don’t you think?” Jungkook says, bouncing the now happy, tearless baby girl. The entire arena erupted, singing happy birthday to your little girl. By the time Jungkook came over and handed her back to you with a kiss on the cheek, Jungmee smiled as she drifted off as you held her against your shoulder.

Namjoon:

Namsang was the sweetest baby girl on the earth - except when she threw The Tantrum. Your baby girl wasn’t spoiled - not by you at least, since Namjoon always decided to bring the three year old little presents and toys home - but when Namsang pulled The Tantrum, all hell broke loose.

So the little girl decided to pull The Tantrum at the worst time possible - just as Namjoon kissed both of you and ran out on stage with the boys. Namsang reached out after him as he hopped away, her lip curling into a pout as she began to cry. As the boys were jumping around and dancing to their opening song on stage, you turned your back and tried to bounce your daughter into calming down.

Namsang began to kick and try to pull away, and after 10 minutes of fighting her, you set her down. You sat down in the chair beside the stage and rubbed your hand over your face, already all of your energy spent. This is what was bad about bringing a three year old to a three hour long concert - you never knew what would set off another screaming-fest.

When you opened your eyes again, you didn’t even realize your daughter was gone from your sight. You were just relieved that the screaming stopped - and then noticed that something was missing. Frantically, you searched around, behind curtains, under tables and in the surrounding rooms, until you heard Namjoon talking on stage.

“Namsang! Come here,” Namjoon said, and you turned your attention to the CCTV streaming the concert. The camera was pointed at Namjoon with his arms wide open, crouching down to catch his daughter in his arms. Namsang ran into her dad’s arms, earning louds screams from the fans. 

“Aw, baby girl, what are you upset about?” Namjoon asks, wiping the tears from your daughter’s face with a small chuckle, picking her up and holding her close. 

“I didn’t w-want you to leave, daddy.” Namsang said, sniffling. The other boys covered their mouths to hide their laughter while Namjoon just turned his head and said, “Aw, I’m sorry. But you’re here now, right? You don’t have to worry, baby.”

Jin:

There wasn’t a time in your house that nobody was singing. Someone always had a song stuck in their head, and your four year old, Jinhee, was no exception.

Seokjin was constantly teaching her the lyrics to various BTS songs, and she always begged to attend every concert her dad performed at. She loved singing along to I Need U, and Spring Day. Jinhee tried to dance to Not Today, but when she’d trip over her feet, Seokjin would tell her to keep trying her hardest.

Another thing Jinhee did was get emotional. At four years old, you would think she didn’t understand anything her dad and uncles were singing about, but oh man, she did. The little girl would ask what was wrong and why the people they were singing about were leaving in Spring Day.

You had left Jinhee standing at the entrance to the stage while you left to grab a snack from the waiting room. She was usually very obedient, and would listen to you when you told her to stay there. Although, when you walked back Jinhee was not where you had left her. You dropped the fruit snack you had snagged for her and immediately looked out on stage - and saw her running behind all the boys and heading straight for her dad.

“Daddy!” She hiccuped, and there were tears that ran down her cheeks. Seokjin turned around, eyes going wide at the sight of his daughter rushing towards him. He crouched down and held Jinhee in his arms, and you saw him wiping away her tears as he began to talk to her.

“Hey, what are you doing out here? Are you okay?” He asked, concern laced in his voice.

“I-I, the song is sad,” Jinhee cried, burying her face in her dad’s shoulder. Jin closed his eyes and laughed, picking her up and facing the crowd. The entire stadium was a mixture of laughing and cooing, and Jin waved before heading back to the side of the stage to put Jinhee down by you.

“Don’t cry, okay? I love you, stay with mommy.” Seokjin said, kissing his daughter’s forehead before looking at you with a small smile.

this killed me and I am so sorry it’s so late

Huntress in the Snow

What if Rhys had met Feyre back when she was still a little girl, alone in the woods and hunting for her family? Inspired by this beautiful work of art, here’s the hypothetical meeting between an abused, tired Rhysand and a tiny Feyre.

 

Rhysand rarely leaves Amarantha’s court Under the Mountain.

He rarely leaves her bedroom, for that matter. Life is just a frenzy of lies, sex, dancing, drinking, hatred and torture these days and he has long given up on making his existence bearable. He doesn’t really care anymore.

He doesn’t care for the stares they give him, the names. He doesn’t care for those pitying glances. He doesn’t care when Amarantha is straddling him, using him, her fingers pulling his hair.

Spring Court is covered in masks right now, but Rhysand might as well be wearing one, too. He doesn’t recognize himself in the mirror anymore. He murmurs things in her ears, he lies, promises, he kills on her behalf, he smirks and laughs and betrays, and he isn’t sure he can ever get back from that.

He’s doing it for Velaris and his beloved ones. That is what he tells himself, over and over and over again, when he’s buried inside her or when he snaps someone’s neck. It’s the only reason he’s still holding on. Velaris. Mor. Amren. His brothers. His court.

Court of Dreams. It’s like a bitter joke, ashes in his mouth. He doesn’t know if he will ever see them again. Doesn’t know if he wants to- after what he’s done.  

He probably won’t ever see them again. This nightmare will never end.

Life is miserable. Rhys doesn’t care.

With the way things are developing right now, his old enemy Tamlin is going to join them in a few years- 42 years have passed and that fool, that idiotic fool hasn’t managed to break the curse. If he realizes that he could save them all, Rhysand doesn’t know. Perhaps Tamlin is just trying to protect those he loves as well. Perhaps he’s trying- perhaps he’s fighting.

Perhaps he’s not.

Rhysand doesn’t care.

He also doesn’t care that Amarantha sends him to the human realm today. To find a group of fae from Dawn Court that have escaped; find them, bring them to her, watch her torture and kill them and fuck her afterwards. It’s nothing to him. He’ll play his part. He’ll be urgent and passionate- I’ve been aching for you, my queen, my everything, woman of my dreams- only you, only ever you- he’ll make her scream his name and kiss her afterwards.

All the while, he’ll be somewhere else. He’ll be talking to Amren, quietly. He’ll be drinking with Cass and Azriel, playing cards. He’ll be dancing with Mor. He’ll be walking through the streets of Velaris.

That’s the only thing he has. And even those memories are further and further away from him with each passing day. Rhysand is afraid that he’ll wake up some morning and find that there’s no fight left inside him- that he’ll just give up.

He looks around.

He’s in a forest, close to the wall. It’s spring, but snow still covers the trees and the ground. He will encounter no humans here- none of them would be so foolish, so daring to get this close to the wall. He sits down next to a stream, closes his eyes and just doesn’t think. A few, scattered moments of peace- he takes what he gets.

Just a few moments. Then he’ll hunt those poor bastards down.

Feyre is twelve, and she’s been roaming this forest for a year now. She’s been following the village’s hunters; copy the way they set their snarls, carry their bows. She has a dream: she’ll hunt so much food her father will get better again. Nesta and Elain will get fatter, rounder, and they will both find very handsome men to marry. Then it’ll be Feyre and her father, and she’ll hunt for him while he reads at home, and in the evening, she’ll cook for him and paint a little.

So far, she hasn’t ever shot anything bigger than a rabbit, and that one time was on accident. The snarls are what works better.

Nesta turned fifteen yesterday. Feyre knows her sister has hoped their father would say something, but he has forgotten all of their birthdays. Nesta has looked like murder all day long. Elain tried to talk to her, but she locked herself in their room.

Elain and Nesta are very sad, Feyre knows that. They remember more of their mother and they talk about her sometimes, exchanging bits and pieces of who she used to be. In the beginning, right after they moved into the little hut at the village’s edge, they tried to be there for her- but they have too much to worry about, now. They never even play with each other. They don’t thank her when she brings food home.

Feyre makes her way through the trees. She must always stay away from the wall- dangerous creatures are there, fae. She’s so afraid of them she has nightmares sometimes.

But today, some inner voice tells her that the wall is not dangerous. That no fae will hurt her. And almost by themselves, their feet make her walk closer and closer to the buzzing, invisible thing that separates their human world from the fae.

When she comes onto a clearing, she sees a man. He is sitting on a fallen tree branch next to a river and his head his lowered, almost as if he were praying. He doesn’t carry weapons, but his clothes are fine and elegant- he must be a rich merchant, lost in the woods.

Perhaps she’ll get a reward if she leads him out of here. Curiosity gets the better of her. “Are you okay?”, she calls over to him, and that is the exact same moment he looks up and meets her eyes.

It knocks the breath out of her. He’s a fae. His ears are long and pointed, and there is something otherworldly in his features that marks him as different.

This is it. She is going to die. Nesta and Elain and her father will starve because she’s not there anymore. How could she be so careless, hunting so close to the wall?

The man takes in her unwashed hair, her threadbare clothes, her make-shift bow. “You should not be here”, he rasps. “You should run.”

Feyre tries to be a still as she can be. The man doesn’t get up, doesn’t come closer. As if he knows that she’ll start screaming if he does.

“Go”, he commands, angry. “Don’t ever come here again. Understand me? Don’t go into the forest at all. Stay at home.”

And she should do just that, run until she’s far away from him, but…

“I have to”, Feyre says. “I have to hunt.”

“No, you don’t. A small girl like you should stay with her family.”

“You don’t understand.” She steps closer, her bow still ready in her hand. “My family will starve if I don’t. I am doing all of this for them.”

The man breathes in, sharply, and she swears that she sees devastation in his eyes. “What?”

“My father can’t take care of us.” Why the words are spilling from her mouth like that, Feyre doesn’t know. “And my sisters are scared. I have to be strong, even when I’m afraid- for them.”

The man stares at her.

“Are you going to hurt me?”, Feyre asks. She tries to hide that she is scared of that fae. She tries to pretend that she could shoot him, if she wanted.

He shakes his head, slowly. “Of course not.”

“What are you doing here, then? Shouldn’t fae be on the other side of the wall?”

The man smiles a bitter smile. “Usually, we should. But I…was allowed a little freedom today.”

“Are you a hunter, too?”

He closes his eyes. “I suppose.”

“Then you’re a little bit like me.”

“Well.” He laughs. “Not really. But I am doing this for my family, too. All of this.”

Feyre doesn’t know why, but for some strange reason, it makes her very happy that the man has a family. That he’s not alone.

“That’s good”, she smiles. “You should go be with them, not sit in the forest by yourself.”

He nods. “You’re right, of course. As should you.”

Feyre steps as close to him as she dares. The fae is very pretty, she realizes. All the older village girls would probably be in love with him. But he looks sad, she thinks, and she doesn’t know why, but it makes her heart ache a little. She wants him smiling.

“Here.” The fae nods his head and suddenly, a basket filled with bread and meat appears in the snow. “Take that home to your family. It should give you enough food to eat for the next few weeks. I can’t- I wish I could do more. But my hands are quite literally tied.”

“Is this some sort of trick?”, Feyre asks. “Some bargain? Some fairy magic?”

The fae shakes his head, a flicker of amusement on his face. “No bargain, little girl. Although I’m impressed you’re already so wary for your age.”

Feyre picks up the basket. This is better than the time she shot the rabbit. This is all of her birthdays combined. “Thank you- what’s your name?”

“Rhys”, he says, looking at his hands. “That’s what my friends call me.”

“That family you told me about?”

“Yes”, Rhys says softly. “My family.”

Feyre smiles at him. It comes so easy, the smile- because something deep inside her core tells her that she doesn’t need to be afraid of him. And she trusts that. “Thank you, Rhys. Your family is lucky to have you. You just saved mine today.”

He still looks so very sad. “Then that’s something”, he says hoarsely. “Before you go- one thing.”

And suddenly there are talons in her head, and she can’t move anymore.

“It’ll be over in a few moments”, Rhys says. “But I can’t let you remember me. She’ll find out, somehow. She’ll break you just for fun.”

Some white blanket is thrown over her mind, and the next second, Feyre finds herself alone in the woods.

What just happened? Why is she here?

Oh, yes- she remembers- the rich merchant who she met on her way here showed mercy and handed her the basket-

What on earth is she doing so close to the wall?

Feyre turns around and runs. Today is such a good day. She feels happy, not just because of the gift…but because of something else.

And maybe she can get through all of this.

Maybe she’ll find a way out of this someday.  

Rhys has never done something like this, but he forces himself to forget her. He pushes her image into the very, very back of his mind, he uses his magic on himself and forces himself to forget about that girl in the snow, that tiny, little huntress.

Because for some reason, he knows that she is important. For what, he doesn’t know. But he’ll do what it takes to keep her hidden from Amarantha.  

It makes him cry out in pain to use those talons on himself, but-

Rhys finds himself standing somewhere in the forest.

Why is he still here? He should go- hunt those Dawn fae down.

There’s a weird feeling of goodness in the back of his mind. Of happiness. And he remembers- that those he loves are out there. That somehow, someday, he’ll see them again. That there is a reason for everything.

He feels hope, and he doesn’t know why.

I have to be strong, even when I’m afraid- for them, whispers a voice inside his head. He knows who said it-

A girl-

He can’t remember. But that feeling lingers.

That night, when Amarantha is on top of him, moving and moaning about how good this feels after a kill, all he can think is the clock is ticking, you bitch. You’ll go down soon. Someone will come and end you.

When she leaves him, he showers and washes her scent off him. Someone is out there, he thinks. Someone good. This world is not completely lost. And for some reason, he cares again. Cares about what happens. Cares about who wins. Suddenly, he wants to fight.

That night, he has the strangest dream. It’s a hand, unpacking a basket full of bread, apples and meat. A small hand; a child’s hands. But it makes him so inexplicably happy he thinks about that dream for days.

A few years later, when Rhysand has long forgotten about everything, he dreams of that same hand again.

Only this time that delicate, female hand is drawing flowers on a table.

And something inside Rhysand whispers, soon.

Soon.

Soon.

Bloom

The year that Tiffany Aching danced with the Wintersmith, there was a hard frost in Ankh-Morpork the night of May the 19th.

For the most part, it went unnoticed. There was no snow, and, unlike on the surrounding plains, people didn’t grow many things in the city. That was part of the problem, Sam Vimes learned as he sat through meeting after interminable meeting. Anhk-Morpork imported its food, and at the moment the crops that were supposed to be feeding the city in a few months were out freezing in their fields. He listened to Lord Vetinari and the Guild leaders and some panicked representatives from the Sto Plains talk about supply chains and international imports and which crops could still be re-sown until his ears ached.

As he marched home that night, he didn’t notice that every lilac he passed was shedding, green buds that had just been beginning to swell when the frost hit littering the ground at his feet. He didn’t notice until he woke up on the 25th of May and realized with a jolt that he hadn’t smelled a single lilac the previous day. Normally, the city was thick with the scent and he did his best to ignore it until the day when he couldn’t.

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Did this with number 1 from those post break up prompts I reblogged a few days back! 

Character A is on their way to sell the engagement ring they once bough for Character B (but the never got to propose) when they run into Character B again.

Wolfstar of course :)


Sirius wished the universe had at least had the decency to make it a cloudy, dreary, possibly miserable but that might be taking it a bit far, day. If this was what it had led him too, it was the least it could do, really.

He stared at the blue sky through the small front window of James and Lily’s flat, then back down at the small, velvet box in his hand. His thumb was poised to open it, nail in the soft crease between the top and bottom… and he couldn’t.  He couldn’t. If he saw it again he’d never get rid of it. And it was of no use to him. Not anymore. He’d spent enough hours staring at it, the gold rim, the small inside engraving. It had promised him everything and, now that everything had been lost, it was just a heart breaking reminder. It was worthless. He knew this. But he couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see it sitting there, cold in the box still. It should be with him. A sudden image of Remus kissing him, palms to his cheeks, and feeling the cool pressure of the ring on his left flooded through his mind. He pushed it away with difficulty.

He shoved the box into his pocket, grabbing a jumper from the back of the couch and pulling it roughly over his head while calling to James.

“Going out!”

“Okay!” A beat, and then, “Actually, wait, wait!”

Sirius turned from the direction of the door as James appeared in the kitchen doorway, tea in hand. His other rubbed the back of his neck.

“Are you, um…” He coughed, eyes flicking down to Sirius’ hands, searching, “Are you going…”

“Yeah.” Sirius said too quickly. He cleared his throat, “Yeah, and?”

James shook his head a little, shrugging and bringing his tea to his lips, “Nothing. Nothing, alright. Right…”

He shuffled his feet a little and Sirius rolled his eyes, “I’m fine,” He definitely wasn’t fine, “I’ll be back in a bit, yeah?”

James didn’t look any more at ease but he nodded, “Yeah.”



The day felt just as nice as it looked and Sirius scowled at the sun, defiantly putting his hood up and his head down.

The feeling of the box knocking against his thigh with every step was excruciating, a constant reminder of what he was about to do.

It should be with him.

His feet felt heavier with every step, every bump, and he found himself staring at the lump in his pocket. He clenched his fists tighter and tighter at his sides until his nails felt like pin pricks and the box felt like a scorching iron across his skin.

“Fucking hell-“ He dug it out of his pocket roughly, just as he collided with something— someone. Sirius’ head knocked right into a rather bony shoulder making his swear again, only to have the word mix with another curse.

“Shit, sorry, didn’t see.. you.. oh.”

Sirius’ heart started thrumming painfully in his chest. Remus straightened up in front of him.

Sirius went straight back to cursing the universe. Not now. God, please not today.

Sirius just stood there, unable to open his mouth. Remus looked… thin. His hair fell in messy curls over his forehead, as apposed to the usual neat swoop to the side. Really, Sirius couldn’t stop looking at his eyes. They were rimmed with soft purple, and as golden as ever. He thought he might drop to his knees, right there in the middle of the sidewalk, under the weight of the sheer longing that was coating his heart.

Remus opened and closed his mouth a few times before, “It’s a bit hot for a hood.”

Sirius blinked because what? “Wh- What?”

Remus’ cheeks flushed, “I- I don’t know why I said that. But- I- don’t you think?”

Sirius stared a moment more, then slowly raised his hand, swiping his hood from his head, “Right. The sun was just feeling a bit too…” He shook his head, still caught too off guard by how—normal—this conversation sounded.

Remus just nodded distractedly, eyes suddenly not on Sirius’, but trained on Sirius’ hand that was still resting on Sirius’ shoulder from removing his hood. He looked uneasy, panicked even.

Sirius watched as he swallowed thickly, voice coming out horse, “Meeting someone?”

Sirius knit his brows, cocking his head slightly at the sudden question, and the look crossing Remus’ face. How could I be meeting someone when that look is out there somewhere needing someone to kiss it away?

“No. ‘m not, why?”

When Remus’ eyes didn’t move to his, Sirius followed his gaze. His stomach dropped at what he found on the other end. The small, velvet box was still grasped in his hand. In plain sight.

“I- Oh. Fuck, no-” He realized what this must look like to Remus and it only made his heart tighten further. The mere thought that Remus could have it in his head that Sirius would ever, ever be with anyone else right now drove a knife in and twisted it, “No, Re- Remus,” Sirius corrected himself quickly at the way Remus winced.

“It’s fine.” Remus mumbled, “I- I don’t know why I asked. I guess I just…” He trailed off, “Dunno.”

Sirius’ mind whirled, desperately trying to find some lie to tell. He definitely wasn’t about to give Remus the truth, not with the way he wouldn’t even look at him.

“I- This is- I mean, I bought this for— these.” He corrected himself as a thought formed in his head, “I’m going to sell. This is- these are… cuff links. For James’ birthday. He- He didn’t like them.”

Remus’s eyes, which had still been fixed on the box, found Sirius’, “Oh.”

Sirius, gripped the box tightly in his palms, thumb, out of habit, wedging the opening but unwilling to follow through, “Y-Yeah.”

Remus’s expression suddenly changed. His eyes shifted from glazed over, and seemed to fill with a flicker of… something.

“Sirius…” Remus took a step forward.

Sirius’ eyes nearly closed at the way Remus said his name. Like he used to.

“Yeah…” Sirius breathed.

Remus’ eyes flit over his face as he stares down at him, “James’ birthday is in March.”

“I..” Fuck. “Yeah. It is.”

“It’s July.”

Sirius closed his eyes, taking in the close proximity of Remus’ presence and being silently furious with himself at the same time, “Yeah.” He sighed, defeated, “It is.”

Remus’ voice came out soft, “Can I see?”

Sirius’ eyes flashed back to the pools of bronze, panicked, “They’re really not much. Pretty plain. I mean-“ You never saw it. You didn’t want it. “They aren’t- It doesn’t really matter. He didn’t want them.”

Remus cocked his head, “How do you know?”

“Because he kind left before I could give them to y- him.” Sirius sighed, feeling heat bubble in his chest. He wasn’t sure what emotion it was, there were too many flowing through him.

Remus’ brow furrowed, “Well if you had stopped him maybe you could have found out. Let me see.”

Sirius flushed. They definitely weren’t talking about James anymore. “How was I suppose to know he wanted to be stopped?”

“Of course I wanted to be stopped!”

The silence that followed left what little space there was between them now heavy with Remus’ words. They were both breathing hard. Remus’ hand had somehow made its way over Sirius’ on the box. Sirius was burning at the touch.

Remus closed his eyes, letting a breath out through his nose, “Of course I wanted to be stopped.” He repeated.

Sirius stared at him, the crease between his eyebrows, the frown on his mouth, the tightness of his jaw. He swallowed hard, voice coming out shaky, “You can’t expect me to know that, that’s- that isn’t fair. You were so.. You were so angry with me, I thought-”

Remus opened his eyes, fixing them on the ground. The sun cast eyelash shadows on his cheeks. He looked more tired and thin than he had when they started. He shook his head, “No, it isn’t fair.”

Sirius’ heart tugged when Remus let his hand slip away.

Remus still wouldn’t look at him, “‘m sorry, I… I don’t know.”

He turned, carefully avoiding brushing against Sirius again, and started to walk away. Sirius reeled at the loss of contact, the sudden empty space in front of him. He was thrown back in time, standing in their old flat. He was staring into Remus’ tear stricken face one moment and was hearing the door slam the next. There was a velvet box in his pocket and he was very, very alone.

Not again. He decided. Not again.

“Remus.”

Sirius turned at the same time Remus did, eyes meeting. He was sure his looked wild. Remus’ looked just as untamed. He tried to slow his breathing, fingers tightening around the box.

He took a step forward.

“It isn’t cufflinks.”

Remus let out a breath, “No?”

“No.” He took another step, slowly closing the distance between them, “It’s-“ His eyes flitted over Remus’ face, hating ever worry marked there, every frown, each tired rim around his eyes, “God. It’s what I should have stopped you with.”

“You couldn’t have known-“

“I should have known.” He took the final step, thumb finally flicking the box open, “I should have let you know how much I…” He didn’t look down at the ring. Instead, he watched Remus’ eyes widen, he watched his lips part. He watched what he had wished he had watched for months. What he could watch for years. Remus’ eyes went back to his and they were glassy. He looked so tired. Sirius needed to fix it.

“Re..” Remus’ brows knit, eyes shutting at the nickname. He let out a soft noise when he felt Sirius’ hand on his cheek, holding him together.

“Re, I should’ve know. I- I know now, okay?” He ducked his head a little, desperately needed Remus to look at him, “Please, Re-“

But Remus was kissing him, hands on Sirius’ cheeks, a few tears on his own. And Sirius was melting, nearly dropping the box, the ring, as his arms made their way around Remus’ waist.

He closed the box as he kissed Remus. He had a lifetime to give him that ring. He needed this now, they needed this now. He slipped it into Remus’ back pocket, causing him to let out a watery laugh against his lips, and smiled as he wound his fingers in Remus’ hair, pulling their mouths back together.

And with Remus against him, laughing into his kiss, Sirius thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad the sun was out today after all.

Kat’s Fic Recs: Sterek (under 10k)

*Yes, yes the first three are over 10k but they’re worth it!

For @prettyinsoulpunk, hope this makes your week better! 💖💖💖

On The Bus by bibliosexxual (13,299)

“Yeah,” Erica says with exaggerated slowness, “I did like Kira, and now I like Boyd. I’m bi.”

“Bi?”

“Bisexual?” Erica prompts. “As in, not gay or straight?”

Stiles is pretty sure his entire mind explodes. “You can like guys and girls? That’s a thing?”

Erica looks at him like, What planet are you from? “Uh, yeah. As long as they’re hot, I don’t care what gender they are.” She pokes him in the side, and he jumps. He’s always been ticklish, and unfortunately Erica knows it. “What about you? You ever like guys, Stilinski?”

*
In which Stiles and Derek ride the bus to school together, and there are bisexual awakenings.

You’ll Grow Into Your Skin by crossroadswrite (11,847)

“So funny story,” Stiles winces, “Remember when I joked you couldn’t get me pregnant?”

Derek nods his head. He remembers pretty much everything from that day.

“Right,” Stiles bobs his head, stops himself and does a little ta-da gesture towards Jacy, “Surprise?”

This is honestly so so cute and heartwarming. I don’t read much mpreg but this was so good and I recommend it 100%.

Word By Word by Cobrilee (11,843)

The first time Derek sees the words, he’s had a really shitty day. Laura was on his case again, all in the name of sisterly love, of course, and Cora was wielding her usual acerbic wit like a rapier. He’d gotten to the scene of a shooting too late and the victim had died before Derek could call for an ambulance. His Camaro had gotten a flat and while he was attempting to change the tire on the side of the road, someone drove by and sent a wave of muddy water arcing, drenching him, and he was cold, muddy, and miserable.

Then, as he was sliding into the front seat after toweling off as best as he could, he felt something prickling on his arm and glanced down. Shaky, thin lines began appearing, little by little, and he could do no more than stare as the infamous phrase formed on his arm.

Are you 18?

‘Til It Hurts or Bleeds or Fades by WeAreTheCyclones (10,731)

“For the peace and happiness of our friends, and that of Beacon Hills at large, can you please give us a warning if you two are ever headed for a nuclear fallout?”

Stiles scoffs. “What are you talking about?”

“The tension between you two rises with each passing year. For awhile there, it seemed to be turning into the sexy kind, but now it feels more like the murder kind.”

No Day But Today by fauvistfly (9,527)

“If you don’t change it successfully, you’ll be doomed to repeat it,” Deaton says, his face impassive despite the seriousness of his words.

“Repeat the day?” Stiles parrots, trying to wrap his head around what they’re attempting to do, the ridiculousness of his life and how it now involves time travel.

in which things in Beacon Hills are so bad that Deaton sends Stiles back in time to stop Kate from manipulating Derek and causing the death of the Hale family. The catch: Stiles only has 24 hours to change the course of the future, or he’ll be stuck repeating that same day until he gets it right. What will be enough to keep Derek away from Kate?

Where Others Fade Away by pr1nc3ssp34ch (9,054)

When the name Grzegorz tattoos itself across Derek’s wrist in neat, thin strokes, his mother pats him on the head in sympathy and Laura laughs so hard she has to go to her room, the sound echoing down the hall as she goes. When it stays there for six years and no such Grzegorz appears, Derek seriously considers moving to Poland.

Meanwhile, on Stiles’ eighteenth birthday when Derek crawls onto his skin, untidy and volatile, Lydia shrieks in sudden realization, and Jackson looks so entirely offended that even Danny can’t kiss him back to normal.

just the touch of a hand by scepticallyopenminded (8,591)

Things – as things often do in Stiles’ life – get a little crazy (a lot crazy) when, a couple of weeks before his seventeenth birthday, he wakes up to – not a wolf, but an amount of naked flesh, cuddled up to him where Dude fell asleep the night before. Stiles screams, a bit, flopping around and falling out of his bed, getting to his knees to see a naked – Derek Hale, sitting up on his bed, eyes wide. He seems to realize something a second later, because he glances down at himself and squeaks, pulling sheets up around him just as Stiles’ dad opens the door.

36 Questions by Leslie_Knope (8,071)

“So I’m doing my senior psych thesis on friendships,” Erica says, not-so-accidentally elbowing Derek in the ribs as she turns to face Stiles. “How they develop, how intimacy is fostered, stuff like that.”

“That’s cool,” Stiles says agreeably. “What’s our part?”

“Well, I can’t really tell you the point because that would influence the results. But it’s a set of 36 questions that you have to ask each other.”

“Just the two of us?” Derek chimes in, finally, and Stiles sighs.

“Okay, dude,” he says, making a face, “could you try not to look quite so offended? Like, my ego’s pretty strong, but come on, man.”

Of Glasses And Lacrosse Sticks by charlesdk (6,810)

“Okay, how 'bout this? One date, just one date, and if you still don’t believe I’m genuinely interested in you, then I’ll leave you alone for good. How does that sound?”

Derek hesitated for another moment, before he sighed and said, “Fine. One date.”

It’s Always Been You by charlesdk (6,085)

Stiles’ love life was practically non-existing, always had been. He was always terrible at picking up clues when people hit on him (it had happened, Erica had been witness to it and had been the one to let him know it was happening in the first place) because he never expected anyone to do so.

He wasn’t the most desirable guy around, he knew that. He was loud, extremely nerdy, never knew when to stop talking, not exactly much of a looker if you asked him, the list was endless.

Point was, he never did know when someone was flirting with him. Which was probably how he ended up in the fight that would change his life for the better.

One Year Down by haleofStilesheart (5,854)

Derek had never celebrated an anniversary before. At least, not an anniversary for a romantic relationship. But now that’s he’s been dating Stiles for a year, that’s about to change.

It’s Too Early For This by thepsychicclam (4,966)

Derek loves his job at the coffee shop, especially because Stiles comes in for coffee before early Saturday morning lacrosse practices. The problem is that Derek is too shy to do anything about his crush, and the situation is not helped by the rivalry between the basketball and lacrosse teams.

I Didn’t Know That I Was Starving (til I tasted you) by LadySlytherin (4,481)

Derek - who lives in New York with his older sister, Laura - is back in Beacon Hills, visiting his parents and younger sister for Christmas, when everything changes. Cora invites friends over while their parents are visiting other family, Derek drinks something he didn’t know he shouldn’t have, and things get a little out of control.

Misunderstandings abound, secrets are spilled, and in the end all it takes to find happiness is being brave enough to reach out with both hands and never let go.

Hello My Old Heart by eversall (3,944)

It begins like this – Stiles is hopelessly lost in the Beacon Hills Library, which has definitely undergone renovations in the last two years, and he’s wandering around trying his best to look like a helpless puppy or something and sure enough, a librarian in a navy blue cashmere sweater and thick-rimmed black glasses shows up, and that librarian happens to be Derek Hale.
Stiles’ heart skips a beat and he suddenly feels like he’s drowning in something unfamiliar, an ache beginning to build in his chest.
.
The pack drifts back together, and Derek in sweaters kind of breaks Stiles a little. In a good way.

A Treatise On The Importance Of Not Ignoring Your Date by LadySlytherin (3,490)

A tumblr-post-based fic, wherein Stiles and Derek have a meet-cute at a baseball game. Involves a kiss-cam, Stiles’ date being an ass, and a hot stranger.

Basically, Peter doesn’t survive the fire so Laura and Derek never go back to Beacon Hills, Scott’s never bitten, Stiles doesn’t know about the supernatural, and he goes to NY for college. Go, Mets!

Thank God Your Heart Is Too Close by hoars (3,469)

There’s a boy, (“Fuck you, dude. I’m seventeen. Not fifteen.” Stiles laughs in his memory) waiting for him back home.

Soulmates tbh by bleep0bleep (1,423)

“It’s been five months,” Derek says darkly. “Why am I still getting these proposals? You know these are probably all fake marks.”

Five months since the paparazzi had snapped that photo of him with the overzealous fan tugging at his shirt, five months since millions of people on the Internet realized that the birthmark revealed was in fact, the mark, five months Derek was inundated by claims from people who desperately wanted him to believe that they were his soul-mate.

My SteveTony Fic Rec List

So I made a list of all my fave SteveTony fanfictions that are:

  • 10k+ (except for a few ones that are to good to not include)
  • have nothing to do with MCU Civil War

Its super long that’s why its under the cut.
Have fun reading.


Keep reading

Birthday = Saved [Damian Wayne x Sibling!Reader]

Requested by anon: “Damian x reader (sibling relationship) where the batfam forgets about Damian’s birthday except the reader"

A/N: Hope you love it anon <3

_______

Slowly you woke up, yawning while running a hand through your hair. In attempt to tame the rat’s nest. Still half asleep and groaning when sitting up. Like it was the hardest thing you’ve ever done. Your blankets were so warm and cozy, maybe five more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Though when you glanced at the clock, your eyes widened in horror. IT WAS PAST NOON! “Shit!” quickly throwing off the blankets and running into the bathroom adjoining your room.

Panicking while taking your shower. How could you sleep so late on Damian’s birthday? Why didn’t anyone get you?

Getting out of the shower and changing into some day clothes, brushing your teeth and hair.

Running down the manor steps and walking into the kitchen. “Sorry guys I didn’t realize I —” But you were cut off to find the kitchen empty. But seeing a note on the counter. Picking it up, it read:

Out on mission. It’s just you and Damian in the manor. Jason, Dick, & Tim are with me. Alfred had personal business and is out of town. Be home later tonight

-Bruce

Wait hold on! They just left on his birthday? His biological son’s birthday? You love Bruce but sometimes he’s an ass.

TT, [L/n] I thought you had left as well” Turning to see Damian with his hands in his pockets. Looking pretty down in the dumps.

“Hey what’s with the frown birthday boy? Who needs ‘em, right?” You smiled at the young man. His face seemed to brighten at the words ‘birthday boy’

“You remembered” Shock laced in his voice. You chuckled, “Of course I remembered! How could I forget?” staring at him in disbelief.

“I was just surprised because father..” His sentence trailed off. “Bruce? Oh yeah he’s on a mis- wait hold on a sec! They didn’t remember it was your birthday?” Your voice raising in the process. Now you’re pissed, it’s one thing to leave but to forget! Nu-uh not okay!

He simply shook his head. “Assholes” mumbling to yourself. “You know what! We’re going to have the best birthday just the both of us. We can go anywhere you want and get cake and after that I’ll give you my gift.” smiling at him.

“You’d do that?” Was this kid serious?

“Of course I am Dami! We’re family remember? Now go grab your shoes, who needs them” Reaching for your keys. He did as told and went to get some shoes as you did the same.

The both of you climbed in your car. “So where to?” turning to him.

“I don’t know” he held his chin between his index finger and thumb.

“Well, is there anywhere you’ve never been but always wanted to go?”

He sat up like he had an idea. “It may seem childish but I’ve never been to a zoo”

A grin grew on your face, “Hey that’s not childish, I’m older than you and I like the zoo still. Zoo it is” before putting the car in drive.

During the drive you listened to Damian talk about his birthdays back with the league. They didn’t really celebrate but they always remembered. He especially talked about his grandfather and mother. Honestly you’d never had a conversation like this with him.

It was nice.

Once parking and making your way into the park you walked around the whole place. Seeing every exhibit, but ending  with the lions.

Damian was captivated by all of the animals but the Lions were amazing. The large male was so elegant and graceful.

“It’s so magnificent” he muttered eyes glued to the creature. “King of the animal kingdom.” you said back, watching the lioness’ graceful movements to be beside it’s mate.

“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘Rise and rise again, until lambs become lions’?” turning your eyes to him.

He shook his head. “Well it’s about being someone who was once vulnerable and weak, but over time and obstacles they become powerful and strong like a lion. Growing as a human being.”

“What is the point of telling me that?” he asked in confusion. Shrugging your shoulders, “I don’t know it’s just a quote I like to live by, kind of applies to me ya know? And you too”

“I’m not vulnerable” crossing his arms and turning back to the habitat. “I’m not saying you are, but in order for someone to be as strong as you are kid. They had to be vulnerable at some point. Don’t dwell on it, just remember it for me okay?” Sending a smile his way.

“I suppose it’s the least I could do” he uncrossed his arms.

“Are you hungry? Cause I am.. What do you say we go grab some lunch?” as your stomach growled. You chuckled and could’ve sworn you saw a grin pull at his lips. “I could eat”

Deciding to go to his favorite place for lunch. The both of you just talked like you had in the car ride. Though this time you explained some people and things that were in your life before becoming a bat.

He seemed grateful for your opening up to him.

After lunch you took him to a bakery where he picked out a treat to sever as his birthday cake. Going to a nearby park, but you stopped at the car to get his gift.

Sitting by a pond he began to eat the treat. “You’re not going to let me sing ‘happy birthday’ to you” mock hurt plastered on your face. He smiled… HE SMILED! It’s possible!

Staring in disbelief at his curved upwards lips. “What?” he asked wiping his mouth like he had crumbs there.

“Oh, nothing. How about you open this now” handing him the rectangular box wrapped in green paper.

Taking the gift he tore off the paper, revealing a long white box. Carefully taking off the lid. He stared at the object within.

His sword had broke on his last mission. So you got him a custom replacement. “The blade is two times stronger than your old one, but half the weight. The grip of the hilt is specially made so it won’t slip in your grip. And finally there’s an engraving” Pointing to the hilt. On it was a small engraving of a robin.

“I don’t know what to say” mesmerized by the piece of weaponry.

“Your face says it all, I’m glad you like it” Smiling at the young boy. “Thank you [F/n], this is very special. I will treasure it” He said, your grin widening at the sound of your first name.

“Come on, lets get back to the manor and set up some pranks for the guys to get back for forgetting your birthday” Mischief sparked in his eyes. A evil grin spreading on his face. Putting the sword in the box.

“They won’t know what hit them”

Bonus:

Entering the batcave the guys all looked exhausted. Well except Bruce. You and Damian were hiding out of view, but had full access to seeing your prank at work.

Looking at Damian you gave a devious smirk before nodding for him to hit the trigger he set up on his phone.

Tapping the screen, alarms blared through the cave. Then the fire sprinklers turned on soaking the four. “What the hell?!” Bruce yelled as you and Damian held in your laughter the best you could. Dick was hiding under a table to keep from getting wetter. Jason was letting a string of expletives run from his mouth. Tim was trying to save his laptop. And Bruce was trying to shut it all down.

Once he did you and Damian couldn’t hold it in any longer. Wiping away a fake tear you and Damian showed yourself.

“You.. You.. hahaha! You should’ve seen your faces. Oh god I should’ve recorded that, Alfred would die” Sentence being broken up with your laughter.

“TT, no need to worry [F/n] I’ve got us covered” Pointing to a camera in the corner. “You smart little devil” ruffling his hair.

“What the fuck [F/n]!!” Jason yelled, looking like a drenched bat. Something they had in common. “What was this all about, I want an explanation now!” Bruce raised his voice.

Though unaffected and sharing a look with Damian. “Something called sweet revenge” a sickeningly sweet tone in your voice.

“Revenge for what?” Dick was next as Tim was fretting over his laptop.

“Think about it. Today’s date, a certain brother of yours. That all of you abandoned by the way” Crossing your arms, sounding protective now.

They all stood thinking for a moment, but you saw Bruce hit realization first. “Oh! Oh god! I’m so sorry Damian” turning to the boy. The rest of their light bulbs lit up.

“We forgot your birthday” Dick said in disbelief with yourself. “We’re sorry Damian, we probably ruined the day”

They all wore regretful looks and were obviously beating themselves up. “It was actually my favorite birthday yet. [F/n] and I had a nice time together”

“You know we did! Get on my sibling level suckers” before turning and exiting the room with Damian. Leaving the drenched bats to dry off.

“Best birthday ever” Damian mumbled entering the manor. A smile growing on your face, you were indeed sibling #1 right now.

Four Times They Almost Kissed and The One Time They Did- Lin X Reader

1.
You grabbed a glass of champagne, seeing that all of your friends were socializing with other people and you looked around, trying to spot a place to go outside since it was getting stuffy in the room. You saw a glass door which presumably led to a balcony and you made a beeline there and you opened the door and slipped outside.

The cold air hit you all at once and you set your glass down to the right of the door before you crossed your arms, trying to keep all of the warmth. You picked your glass back up, realizing that there was really no point in trying to keep warm.

You walked further away from the door that led inside and you made your way close to the edge.

You looked around, amazed at the view you had- you could almost see the ball in Times Square. Although it was cold outside, you reasoned with yourself that getting this view was worth freezing for. You felt someone nudge your arm and you turned around, seeing Lin. You smiled a bit.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” He asked you, no longer looking at you but at Times Square and all of the buildings. Your features softened when seeing the look of adoration he had when looking at the city.

“Yes, it’s beautiful.” You told him and he nodded. He turned to look at you again and he shrugged off his suit jacket and offered it to you.

“You look cold.” He said sheepishly and you took the jacket cautiously.

“Are you sure? What if you get cold?”

“I’ll go back inside.”

“Touché.” You slipped the jacket on, noticing immediately how it smelled like Lin.

Yeah, he was never getting this back.

You guys heard a cheer from the huge crowd at Times Square.
“I guess it’s the new year.” He said quietly and he turned towards you, beginning to close the distance. You moved forward as well.
“Hey Lin, we’re starting some karaoke, wanna join?” Someone from inside yelled and he pulled away before he could kiss you.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He smiled and he looked at you. “I’ll see you later?”

“I think I am going to go home. I am really tired.” You lied and he put his hands in his pockets.

“Do you need a ride?”

“I can just get a cab but thank you.”

“It’s no problem- text me when you get home, okay?” He asked. You smiled and nodded.

“Sure, and Lin?”

“Yeah?”

“Happy New Year.” You raised your glass of champagne.

“Happy New Year- to us.” He replied, returning the toast.

“Yeah. To us.”


2.
“Happy birthday Lin!” You yelled, your voice drowned out by all of the others who were giving him birthday wishes as well. His smile grew as he looked at everyone who was here and he started greeting everyone and talking. Everyone was already ordering rounds and Lin made his way over to you, practically bouncing from all of the energy and from how excited he was.

You felt yourself begin to smile as well, Lin’s smile being contagious.

“I’m glad that you are here!” He said and your smile grew.

“I’m glad you showed up to your party.” You replied and he laughed.

“I went to the wrong bar two times before I came here.”

“You made it and that’s what matters.”

“Yup- anyway, if I were to say do karaoke, would you join me?”

“What song because I don’t think I’ve listened to any normal music in ten years.”

“Your choice.”

“Champagne.”

He smiled to himself and then he looked back at you. “Let’s do it.”
You both got on stage and he looked at you and smiled reassuringly.

“So I got you a present, I went downtown to get it, are you doing anything tonight?”

The song went on as usual.

The part in the musical where Vanessa and Usnavi kiss came up and you both took a step forward.

“I wish I was mad- I’m just too late.” You concluded and you both just stared at each other, not knowing what to do. Everyone applauded loudly and cheered and you put the microphone back on the stand, quickly going back into the crowd.


3.
“Take that back!” You yelled and Lin looked at you, amused.

“I stand by what I said.” He replied and you groaned out of frustration

“Groundhogs day is the best holiday ever and I will fight you.”

“Why is it the best holiday?”

“I don’t know but it is, okay? We have an entire day dedicated to whether a groundhog sees his shadow or not and I think that is great.”

“I mean it’s either six weeks until spring or six more weeks of winter and it means the exact same thing?”

“You can fight me.”

“No, I don’t want to fight you. I’m just saying that groundhogs day is pointless.”

“And I’m just saying that you can fight me.”

“I much rather kiss you.”

“What?”

“Forget I said anything.”


“No. You said-”

“That groundhogs day is pointless.” He finished, turning a light shade of red.

“No after that.”

“That I much rather kiss you than fight you?”

“So why don’t you?” You asked and he froze before he leaned in close to you.

“Groundhog’s day is pointless.” He whispered before pulling away. You rolled your eyes, glaring at him slightly.

“You are such a tease, I can’t believe it.”

“So you’re saying you wanted me to kiss you?” He asked and you shook your head, maybe a bit too quickly.

“Forget I said anything.” You answered.


4.
“This is the best Valentine’s Day ever.” You announced and he shook his head, smiling.

“We are laying in my bed and watching cartoons.”

“Like I said, best Valentine’s Day ever.” You smiled and you put your head on his chest and stared up at the TV, aware that he was now resting his chin on your head.

“And here I was thinking that it was just because you were spending it with me.”

“Well that’s partly true. And it’s also because you’re letting me wear your hoodies.”

“Am I ever going to get those hoodies back?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a yes because you finally gave me my suit jacket back today.”

“Well your hoodies are really comfortable so I wouldn’t get your hopes up.” You told him and you closed your eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve told you but you’re beautiful.” He said gently and you opened your eyes quickly.

“I don’t think I’ve told you but you’re the corniest person I know.”

“No, corny would be looking at someone while I ask if the view is amazing and you reply yes and you are talking about them.”
“Seems oddly specific.”

“New Year’s Eve.”

“For the record I was talking about the city as well, I just happened to be looking at you.”

“Sure.” He teased and you rolled my eyes.

We watched the cartoons in silence for a bit before you turned over, facing him. He looked at you, a gentle smile on his face and he sat up. You sat up as well and he leaned over the bed, about to kiss you before the doorbell rang and he swore under his breath in Spanish.

“That’s probably the food.”

“I’ll get it.” You offered and you slid off the bed and quickly made your way out of the room.


5.

“We only have thirty minutes before the first song- you should probably grab your seat.” Lin said, looking a bit nervous. You smiled and grabbed his hand.

“Hey, you can do it. You’re gonna blow everyone away.” You told him and he smiled a bit.

“You really think so?”

“Lin I’ve been spending so much time at your apartment to make sure that you get sleep and I’ve heard you sing all of the songs. I know you can do this.” You reminded him.

“Right, right.”

“Lin look at me.” You said and he looked at you, a mixture of panic and excitement on his face. “I believe in you. Your cast mates believe in you.”

“I know I know I just… what if I-”

You pressed your lips to his and he stopped talking instantly, relaxing and kissing you back.

“Finally.” You heard someone say and you jumped away and looked over to see Chris with his arms crossed and smiling. “I have been waiting for you guys to do that since you first met each other.”
Your face turned red and Lin’s face turned red as well.

“Good luck.” You whispered and Lin smiled brightly.

“I knew that you were the more cliché one.”

“Oh c'mon how was that cliché at all?” You argued and he laughed quietly.

“Shutting me up by kissing me? Cliché. I’ll see you after the show.” He giggled and you nodded. He stole one last glance at you before you exited the backstage area, walking around to the main entrance and you got into your seat right as the show started. The first song started and when Lin entered center stage, you felt excitement rise in you.

“Alexander Hamilton.” He sang, followed by thousands of people cheering. He looked around the audience before finding your eyes. “My name is Alexander Hamilton. And there’s a million things I haven’t done but just you wait. Just you wait.”

War allies

Pairing: T’Challa x Reader

Warnings: It’s sometimes sad, but overall cute. Mentions of torture.

Summary: After the events in the Leipzig airport, queen (Y/N) is taken to the Raft and tortued to say something about the whereabouts of Captain Rogers; she endures everything and even got rescued by a fellow monarch whom she knew from a life that she thought she would never get back to. Diplomacy is key.

A/N: Feedback is love.


Originally posted by miscellame

“What you did to them was not as cruel as what they did to you.”

It was the first thing (Y/N) typed down. She was home at last, and more or less safe and she firmly needed to believe her own words.

The medical team that took care of her told her that if she wasn’t keen on talking, she could probably write things down, let her memory and fingers do the job, but that was easier said than done; especially when her memory only played the same images again and again. She took a deep breath, feeling her chest inflate with the income and slowly exhaled everything away. The thoughts wandered in and out, and following her meditation teacher’s instructions, she tried not to make a whole story around them.

It all begun in Vienna. I shouldn’t have gone. I shouldn’t have been there. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t. But I did. I went there and I can’t change that. I was there only to hear what fat men wanted from people with powers; people like me. But I am not their property and I don’t want them to register me or mark me as something I am not. I am a queen, I am a ruler and I am powerful. I am graceful in what I do and god knows I am. I just wanted people to feel better, but their emotions turned confusing and I just couldn’t do that anymore.

By the end of her first stream of consciousness session, (Y/N) was already shaking and crying. She grabbed her head in her hands tightly, trying to shake away all the images that followed those inauspicious events. Leipzig, and then the Raft. She remembered hiding in the shadows, unbeknownst to everyone, as she toyed and manipulated their anger and their feelings of blind justice.

Captain Rogers had hidden friends outside the avengers, and she was a most appreciated one, so it was not a surprise when he told her to please help him out with a little something. He mentioned the dangers and the exposure, but he also explained how important it was for him to have his friend back and the accords not signed. (Y/N) understood that very well. The meaning of family and the promise of a free life.

Once she was there, hiding behind the structures, containers and trucks, she felt a familiar presence. But she could not recognize anybody; not their breathing and not her thoughts. She moved around like the shadows and with them, trying to remain unseen from everyone. But then the fight was over and the million tricks under her sleeve were gone and people were dragging her to a plane to throw her into a prison in the middle of the ocean. The Raft, they called it.

There she met her fellow inmates, the archer, the man that could shrink, the man with the wings and the woman with the mental abilities. She could not escape and she could not use her powers to feel less lonely. Little by little, she locked herself into her own mind, unwilling to maintain a conversation with anybody, and each passing day she seemed more and more unbreakable, even though she was tortured in several ways to get the information about Captain Rogers and his whereabouts. She knew and believed in the value of loyalty, even if it meant rotting in her cell.

She was about to give up on everything and everyone, but then she saw the light, or more like the light going off. Steve Rogers appeared, almost horrified by what happened to his dearest friends and allies. Cap’s team was taken to Wakanda, a nation she didn’t know she knew.

They were all welcomed by the king himself, a tall man of dark complexion; he irradiated authority and kindness, even though he saw before him the people that he once tried so hard to get rid of. (Y/N) felt even smaller next to him; being a queen herself, she knew in her heart that she wasn’t as good as he was. People around him smiled as they vowed their heads, but when her people passed by, they bowed their heads in fear.

King T’Challa was a very caring man, not only for his people, but for people he didn’t know too. He was in charge of all the attentions the newly arrived would have; from their bedrooms to the different recovery therapies they would be under. Each one of them different for each member.

The physical therapy was one thing, getting regular check-ups with the castle’s medical team, but then there were the therapy sessions that (Y/N) dreaded to attend. T’Challa was informed of this and of course he worried, he wanted everyone to be as mentally healthy as possible, even though he understood if it took a long time.

The king decided to ask (Y/N) why wasn’t she attending the sessions and if there was another thing she’d like to try so he could make the arrangements for it to be done, but before he could put the question into words, she had already disappeared.

The queen came back to her own palace, in the safety of her walls and the safety of her people. She still thought about T’Challa and the brief encounters they did happen to have. She couldn’t escape all day from him, and even though she never tried to, she still had little to no words to say to him other than answering his questions. Among those questions, there was the moment when he found out she was a queen also, a very young one; younger than him. Later he found out that his deceased father was once an ally with hers, and a light-bulb lighted up inside his mind.

“You got a letter, your highness.” One of the maidens said, carrying with her a golden envelope with the queen’s name on it. The queen didn’t pay much attention until the maid said where it came from.  “This comes from Wakanda.” (Y/N) turned her head to look at the envelope and reached out her hand for it to be handed to her.

“Thank you.” The queen bowed her head and smiled lightly, and the maid turned on her heels and left (Y/N) alone again with the pile of papers she still had to revise.

Ever since (Y/N) came back to her lands, everything was busier than ever. The world was now aware of her secret society and trying to get the press away from the limits was a terribly exhausting job. She was not very good at the social contact and she preferred not to do it anyway; she had people to take care of public relationships, but there was one thing she couldn’t escape from. Diplomacy.

She opened the letter to find a handwritten message.

“Dearest (Y/N),

I hope this letter finds you well. It’s been a few months since you left Wakanda without even saying goodbye and I believe we have a few matters to discuss. Political ones mostly, but I suppose we can find the time to discuss other things.

As you might be aware of, our fathers shared a close friendship, and both kingdoms were war allies before and we also did a lot of commerce; that is relationship that I wish to re-build now that we have become public personas and that we have properly met (the circumstances were terrible, but at least everyone got something positive out of it). Would it be okay if I ask you out for dinner soon? Whatever your answer may be, reply this letter as soon as possible and I’ll make the arrangements to meet your convenience.

Looking forward to hear from you.

Faithfully yours,

T’Challa.”

(Y/N) held the letter for a few more minutes before she could realize that she was thinking about the ruler of the peaceful kingdom that received her just months ago. She was still surprised that he did it, and on top of that, he was asking to meet her again. Yes, they had some important topics to discuss, but for the words and their underlying meaning, he was quite eager to see her.

She took a deep breath and wrote the reply herself. She didn’t want to waste any other precious second. She called the same maiden and asked to send the letter away and that it was extremely important that she made sure it would arrive as soon as it could be.

The venue for their dinner would be the gorgeous city of Marrakesh; they agreed that a neutral place was the best option for their not-official diplomatic meeting. (Y/N) appeared in a restaurant wearing a tight black dress. It had no back, and the cleavage was low, but not low enough to show her breasts or to look tacky. T’Challa was blown away by her beauty; he remembered quite well the girl in his palace, but the girl back then used to hide herself under baggy clothes, or hide herself in her bedroom if possible.

“It’s nice to see you out,” T’Challa commented as he conducted her to their table, “how are you feeling?”

“It’s hard to get back on track,” she nodded, feeling the weight of her words, “but I got some good people to take care of me.”

The drinks started to pour on their glasses and the food arrived to them. Spicy food was one thing, but the dishes there were more condiments than actual ingredients. It was a fun meal, and even though they could not speak very much, the looks they shared said more than a hundred words.

(Y/N) felt how he observed her every move, from the way she ate, to the way her lips captured the glass and the liquid went down her throat. She started to like the way that his feelings were so out there, she was not even having an insight of his mind, but instead; he was giving it all away as if he wanted her to witness everything that he was going through.

“It’s kinda funny to think our parents were once allies,” (Y/N) started, “I still have your father in my memory. He’s one of the memories I cherish the most.” She smiled almost to herself. “I remember that he gave me, for one of my birthdays, a small sculpture of a panther.” She giggled heartedly. “I never thought I’d learn the hard way that apparently the panther is the national animal in Wakanda.”

“I actually made that,” T’Challa admitted, scratching the back of his neck and feeling a strong warmth spreading through his face, “and I wanted to give it to you so badly, because you were the only other child I knew that knew exactly what I was going through, but I got sick the few days before that and… I was bound to be in bed for about a week so… I was destroyed by that.” He chuckled. Just a few seconds after, they fell silent. They searched in each other’s eyes for conversation, and that was enough, but T’Challa broke the silence between them. “You know, I spent my teenage years imagining how you had grown up, and if there could be a chance of us keeping a future together—for the sake of our kingdoms, of course.” He hurried to add.

“That’s a heavy wonder to carry for a teenage boy.” (Y/N) conceded, swirling the liquid in the glass with her powers. She was absent minded, thinking about the little boy she once met; it was hard to believe that the boy had grown up into such a majestic man, not to mention how handsome he was. She shook her head, as if it made the thoughts go away, but she still had in mind the words he said, and how he thought about the future. “You know, my father was not a very sentimental man, and he was most probably worried about the future of the people rather than my future, but he always said that it would’ve been a good idea to keep relations with Wakanda.” She pursed her lips into a smile. “He said, it was one of dreams to see me married to the heir. And now that I know him… I believe my father knew what he talked about.”

“And what is that?”

“He must have had some idea about the kind of man you have turned into.” She exhaled heavily and let her back rest comfortably on the chair. “I’m not the kind of girl that’s good with words, let alone those words being about my inner thoughts and the mind beyond my mind, so I’ll say this quickly: I like you, and I like the man you’ve become. I like you because you took care of me like no one else would have, even though I was the one who made you feel so enraged. I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life, and playing with your feelings was one. If you want me to answer your teenage question: yes, there is a chance of keeping our kingdoms together, but I don’t want to be with you because of that, I want to be with you because the feeling is corresponded. If not—”

“I thought those words would never come.” T’Challa chuckled. “I’ve been thinking about those words since I can remember, and… they feel a hundred times better.” He rested his elbows on the table and reached out for (Y/N)’s hands, but she couldn’t move. “I’ve been in love with you, and the thought of you for long, and you can’t imagine how broken my heart was when I saw you under arrest… and what they did to you at the Raft…” He clenched his fists and his knuckles whitened from the strength used. “I couldn’t stand it. I mean, the thought of what you went through still keeps me up at night.” He stopped for a few seconds, just to get his thoughts straight. “I don’t care about what you did; that’s buried in the past and I have no interest in bringing it back. I like who you are now, and I want to learn from you… Let’s give this a try, and if this does not meet your expectations, or if something happens along the way, just promise me you’ll be as sincere as you have been throughout the night.”

“I—I will.” (Y/N) stammered nervously, as she timidly intertwined her hands with T’Challa’s. She smiled at the contact between them; it was so childish, so innocent, but she knew she was making the right decision. “I’m just so… I thought that, once you found out that it was me who toyed with everyone’s mind and that I was involved with Captain Rogers, you’d shut me out and probably you wouldn’t even talk to me about diplomacy… I thought you’d… exile me out of your life.” She said, with a taint of gloominess in her voice. Her fingers gently traced the veins on the back of T’Challa’s hand. She took a deep breath, experiencing in first person the feelings that occupied the mind and heart of the king. “Have you always been this intense?” She giggled when she saw herself affected by the king’s lust.

“Only when the woman I’ve loved all my life is wearing something like that.” T’Challa smiled slyly, not even feeling intimidated by being busted. He let go of (Y/N)’s hands and stood up to take a few steps next to her. “May I take the fun somewhere else?” He offered his hand.

“Yes,” she nodded, taking the hand and standing up, “you may…” Before T’Challa started to walk away with her, she tugged at his arm and made him turn around to pull him closer to her and kiss those plump lips that had hypnotized her all night long. His kiss was soft, and his hands on her hips were even softer. She held on tightly to him, feeling every inch of his body mold to hers and his muscles tightening. She pulled away, needing some air to think straight. “Perhaps we could take the fun to my room… My king.” She breathed to his ear, knowing the reaction it would have in him.

When I Was Your Man // A Stiles Stilinski Smut

Prompt/Song: When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars.

Relationship: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingering, Cheating, Swearing, and Angst.

Word Count: 7,956 (No ragrets. I like detail, okay? I enjoy making you feel like you’re just as involved in the story as the characters are. So, sue me.)

Disclaimer: I don’t know who the gif belongs to because I found it on Google, but credit to them none-the-less.

Your name: submit What is this?

Wiping his clammy hands down on his crimson red pants and taking a much needed deep breath, Stiles Stilinski walked into the loud dance club to attend his ex-girlfriend’s birthday party. Which he technically wasn’t invited to but went anyway, because the man knew no boundaries. He did know, however, that she probably didn’t want to see him ever again and yet he couldn’t find it in himself to stay away. He absolutely hates that he had to continuously lie to protect the woman he loved, the woman he still loves, from the supernatural world but what he truly hates the most is that he’d have to constantly let her down because of it.

He’s lost count of all the times he had to cancel on their dates because someone in this chaotic town needed saving or how many times he had to try to come up with excuses to cover up his secret only for her to see right through them everytime. It broke Stiles’ heart to know that he continuously deceived her, but he knew that he had no other choice since he didn’t want her anywhere near the danger the pack always faced.

The day she ended things with him is the day Stiles hates the most in his life. He couldn’t handle the way she cried as she told him all of the nights she spent sobbing because of him or all of the times she felt betrayed because her own boyfriend would deny telling her the truth whenever she asked. Stiles’ heart shattered when he watched her walk away from him, never turning back, and it still remains that way. It’s already been two months since they broke up, but the wounds were definitely still open.

“Stiles?” He heard a voice call over the loud music and the human instantly turned around to see a familiar redhead. “Is that really you?”

“Yes, Lyds.” He smiled at her shocked face. “It’s me.”

“You seriously came to your ex-girlfriend’s party without an invite?” Lydia smirked, now chuckling along with him. “How daring of you.”

“What can I say?” Stiles shrugged. “I’m a badass by nature.”

The laughter that erupted from the banshee’s throat should’ve offended him, but Stiles laughed along with her instead. They both knew Stiles was a big softie and not exactly a badass, but he could still be tough whenever it was truly necessary.

“Of course you are.” The redhead snickered, lightly patting him on his broad shoulder. “But, I would avoid staying here if I were you.”

“And why is that?” Stiles narrowed his eyes at her, surprised when she, suddenly, stopped being in a light-hearted mood and became serious.

“You don’t know?” Lydia cleared her throat, nervous now that she realizes she’s the one who has tell one of her best friends the bad news. That without a doubt will hurt him even more than he already was.

“Know what?” Stiles asked, now anxious along with her. “Lydia, you’re scaring me.”

“S-She has a boyfriend.”

The second those words came out of her mouth, Stiles’ already broken heart dropped down into his stomach and shattered even more, which he honestly didn’t think was possible. A gaping and bleeding hole took the place where he once had a beating heart. Stiles felt as if the Winter Soldier himself had punched into his chest with his powerful metal arm and he was officially done for. It doesn’t even matter what Stiles does to try and fix himself, he’s now always going to be broken.

“A boyfriend?” He asked, his voice weak and Lydia winced at how pained he sounded.

The redhead just nodded, turning herself around to point to the couple wrapped in each other’s arms on the dance floor as they moved their bodies to the beat of the deafening music. Stiles reluctantly followed the direction of her finger and bit down on his bottom lip to somehow keep from crying when he saw the girl he so desperately loved dancing beautifully. He watched in awe at the way her hair bounced against her shoulders as she happily sang the words to a song Stiles had never heard before. But, he already liked it just by the way she seemed to. Jealousy and hurt flooded his body at the sight of some unknown guy dancing closely to her with his hands gripping her waist, the same waist Stiles held onto whenever they were intimate. The same hips he loved planting kisses on when he moved lower and lower down her body until he reached the area she desired him the most.

“I should probably go.” Stiles stated, trying to swallow the hard lump in his dry throat.

“Yeah,” Lydia nodded, but then smirked with an idea. “Or you could get a quick drink first. It is open bar after all.”

Tearing his eyes away from the painful scene, Stiles looked down at the banshee and nodded. Lydia smiled and lead them through the sweaty crowd and towards the bar, the smell of alcohol getting stronger with every step they took.

“Bartender!” Lydia called once they reached it, slamming her hands down on the counter. “Can you get me two beers, please?”

“Two beers coming right up.” The polite man smiled and pulled out the two their drinks from under the counter.

He snapped the tops off with a specific tool and slid the beers over to the redhead, who easily caught them before they could fall off the surface.

“Thank you very much.” Lydia smiled back at him as she handed Stiles a bottle.

The young man immediately took a swig and enjoyed the feeling of the bitter liquid making its way down his once dry throat. Lydia looked at him with a kind smile on her face, taking her own sip of the drink. She put the bottle back down on the counter as she licked the remaining liquid off her lips, but Stiles didn’t dare put his drink away. He needed this beer more than anything to somehow feel better at the realization that he lost the girl he actually believed he could get back, forever.

“Are you okay?” Lydia asked, noticing how quiet and still he was. Two characteristics Stiles Stilinski certainly never displays.

“No, I’m not.” Stiles answered truthfully, taking another sip of his alcohol.

“I know what it’s like.” She patted his shoulder to comfort him. “But, hey think about the bright side. At least she’s not a lizard who turned into werewolf then left you to go to London. Or a former Alpha that actually killed people you knew and ended up dying before you could ever see him redeem himself.”

A muffled laugh escaped from his lips even though he was still drinking from his bottle and Stiles swallowed his liquor before turning to look at Lydia whole-heartedly.

“Right, but at least things between you and Parrish seem to be working.” Stiles answered.

“Yeah, when he’s not on fire.” Lydia scoffed. “And I’m not even talking about sex.”

This comment was enough to make Stiles’ heart a little less heavy as he detached his attention from the dancing girl to his best female friend and her spicy sex life.

The dancing girl, on the other hand, was currently wiping away the accumulated sweat on her forehead as she continued dancing with her new boyfriend. He was the sweetest and most attentive guy she’s ever met. He always makes sure to spend as much time with her as humanly possible, so much so that his GPA score in college had been dropping from his lack of studying. It was very refreshing to her, having a boyfriend around all the time… something completely different from Stiles Stilinski.

However, it wasn’t at all his fault. He couldn’t control the supernatural or make it go away, but he believed it was his job to at least save the people this world puts in danger. It hurt her so much to know that Stiles had a mysterious secret she could never be apart of. She knew that Stiles loved her and only ever did what he thought was best. But, it’s too bad it just wasn’t enough.

As if on cue, the heartbroken girl turned her head at the exact moment that Stiles decided to take a peak at her. The world screeched to a halt when their eyes locked and finally saw each other again after being separated for two whole months. Her eyes were wide and her jaw dropped at the sight of the brown haired boy with freckles painted all over his fair skin. Her heart immediately beat faster and she felt as if it would suddenly jump out of her chest and fly towards him. She missed him, there’s no doubting that. And apparently, so did her body and soul. The way she’s feeling right now, just by the realization that she’s in the same room as him, was enough to know.

Stiles carefully put his bottle down on the bar counter and tuned out everything Lydia was currently saying, his attention only focused on the girl gazing at him. Her face was completely shocked and he chuckled internally at how astonished she looked. Stiles could see the blush heating up on her face all the way from the other side of the bar and it made his heart flutter to know he still had an effect on her.

Lydia stopped talking absentmindedly when she noticed Stiles slowly lift his hand and wave with a smile on his face towards someone on the dance floor. The redhead turned to see just who he was greeting and immediately smiled when she realized it was exactly the person he came here to see.

“You should go say hi.” Lydia suggested.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Stiles answered, no longer waving to her but still holding the gaze.

“Oh, she already sees you.” The banshee shrugged. “I see no harm in at least going over there to wish her a happy birthday. I mean, at this point, it would be rude if you didn’t.”

Stiles carefully thought over Lydia’s suggestion, her words repeating in his head over and over again. He wanted to talk to her desperately, but then again he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable in any way. He knows how recent this all still is and he’s well aware of the pain pooling inside of her just like it was in him.

“Fine.” Stiles nodded, taking a deep breath before standing up.

Stiles’ ex-girlfriend’s eyes widened even more, which wasn’t thought possible until now, when he stood up from the bar stool and began walking over towards her. She didn’t know whether or not she wanted him to approach her, but she definitely knew that her heartbeat rose with every step the boy she still loved took.

That’s when the unexpected happened and neither one of them were ready for it. The techno beat song that was echoing in the dance club ended and was replaced with a slow love song. But, not just any love song, their love song.

Stiles immediately stopped in his tracks and she immediately stopped dancing. Her boyfriend looked at her with a confused glance, but her focus was locked on Stiles. Neither one of them knew what to do as all of the memories, the times they spent together, the intimate touches and the feelings came crashing down on them with full force. They both almost fell at how weak their knees felt.

The way she was gazing at him right now made a new sense of confidence coming from an unknown source spark in his blood and an idea lit up in his mind. It could either end up really well or really badly, but Stiles didn’t give his anxiety the time to think it over. He moved his legs once again and continued walking towards her which made the girl panic. Her boyfriend continuously asked her if she was okay but she couldn’t even answer, too nervous over the boy approaching her.

“Hi.” Stiles greeted and she swallowed nervously at the sound of his voice again after so long.

“H-Hey.” She responded and completely let go of her boyfriend to push her hair behind her ears, a habit she has whenever she felt anxious. Which Stiles knew about and couldn’t help but smile at how adorable she looked.

“Hi.” The boyfriend spoke up and Stiles took his attention off of her to look over at the source of the voice. The young man told Stiles his name even though it was pointless considering Stiles would forget it in a matter of minutes. “And you are?”

“Stiles.” The boy with freckles answered, politely extending his hand out towards the fellow guy. They both shook hands with kind smiles on their faces.

“What brings you to the dance floor?” The boyfriend asked.

“I was actually wondering if I could borrow your girl for just one dance.” Stiles requested and the girl felt like she was about to faint. She didn’t know if she had it in her to be able to dance with Stiles without falling apart.

“Sure, but don’t steal her for too long or I’ll get jealous.” The boyfriend chuckled after taking a few seconds to think it over. The man was undoubtedly a good person and Stiles actually liked him as he turned around to place a chaste kiss on his ex’s lips. “I’ll be over at the bar with the boys if you need me.”

She just nodded and he looked at Stiles one last time before smiling at the both of them and walking away. She gazed up at Stiles with doe eyes and he couldn’t help but smile at how beautiful she was. Extending his hand out to her, she took it and he placed it on his shoulder at the same time that he used his other hand to put it on her waist. When both of her hands were on his shoulders, Stiles rested his other hand on the other side of her waist. Their faces were just inches apart as he stared intensely into her eyes, her heart pounding heavily against her ribcage at how lovingly he gawked at her. It’s been a month since she found a new boyfriend but Stiles certainly still had her wrapped around his finger.

“You know, when I found out you had a new boyfriend I was really hoping I’d hate him.” Stiles spoke up as they started to sway their bodies to the rhythm of the song that belonged to them and no one else. “But, damn, I actually like the dude.”

“Yeah, he’s a really nice guy.” She laughed at Stiles’ surprising compliment and the breath-taking sound made his heart stop.

“You really know how to pick them.” Stiles chuckled, quirking his eyebrows at her to make her laugh again and a smile appeared on his face when it worked.

“I guess I do.” She giggled, letting her head fall on his chest for the slightest second as she laughed before picking it back up. But, this time she was no longer laughing and had a serious expression planted on. “I just don’t know how to keep them interested enough to stay.”

“What are you talking about?” Stiles questioned, furious that any boy would ever dare think this amazing girl in his arms was boring. “Who was stupid enough to think that?”

She looked at him with pain evident in her eyes, water glossing over them. Which only meant she was about to cry and Stiles’ gut wrenched at the scene. The last time he saw her cry was when she ended their relationship and it was the worst thing he’d ever witnessed in his entire life. Stiles strongly believed that this beautiful woman should never had tears in her eyes, only sparks of happiness.

“You.”

Stiles felt as if he was just trampled on by a herd of the biggest elephants on the planet when she referred to him. The three lettered word took the shattered heart in his body and pounded it until it was a mere pile of dry dust, making him feel worse than he ever had.

“M-Me?” He stuttered, not being able to think properly. “How?”

“You always canceled on dates, you never texted me or called me back enough, you always put your secret life first that you’d never let me in on, and you constantly felt this need to lie to me for no real reason.” She listed, trying her best to wipe away her tears but there was no point due to the immense amount running down her cheeks. “I guess I just wasn’t good enough for you.”

“Don’t you dare say that.” Stiles shook his head, taking one of his hands off her waist to place it on her flushed cheek. “You were- you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Then, why didn’t it ever seem like it?”

“Because things are more complicated than you can imagine.” He defended, but she simply scoffed at his ridiculously vague response. “Look, I need you to believe that whenever I lie to you, I do have my reasons.”

“It’s too bad that I don’t believe you.” She pulled his hand off her cheek and began to slowly detach herself from his hold.

“No, don’t leave!” Stiles panicked, not wanting her to leave his presence just yet. Or ever, really. “I-I still love you and I know that I can make it up to you somehow-”

“Stiles-” She cried, not wanting to hear him speak because she knew that if he did she would be putty in his hands soon enough.

“Wait, just let me finish.” He interrupted her just like she had interrupted him, his voice already desperate. “I know I messed up and I know I can never take it back. But, I can change from now on and, I promise, I will change. You have my heart and I am nothing without you so please– please –don’t do this. Just come back to me and I swear I’ll do everything right this time. I’ll always pick up your calls on the first ring, I’ll buy you flowers every damn day, I’ll take you to every party this town can offer because I know how much you love to dance, I won’t cancel on dates anymore because you will always be my priority, and I promise I’ll give you all of my hours when I have the chance.”

He confessed the beautiful words with such emotion and love in his frantic voice that it made her heart stop and melt in her ribcage. Even though she’s been trying to move on and find a way to forget him, there’s no doubt that Stiles Stilinski still had the key to her locked heart. She wanted to be with him more than anything, but she also wanted to respect herself. Men always say they’re gonna change, but they never really do and she knew that. Even though she wasn’t used to it, the girl had to put herself and her own feelings first this time.

“Will you tell me what you’ve been hiding from me?” She asked, hoping desperately that he would say yes.

Stiles’ face fell to the floor in defeat because he knew that that wasn’t possible. Everyone that gets involved in his dangerous world either always gets hurt or… worse. And Stiles would never forgive himself if something happened to the woman he loved. He would rather lay down his own life than ever let her be vulnerable to the risks and threats that come with the supernatural.

“I-I can’t.”

“Then, I can’t go back to you Stiles.” She responded, her heart breaking even more. “I deserve better than this.”

“I know you do.” Stiles’ voice was weak with the tears threatening to escape his eyes.

“But, I still want you in my life. I still want to be friends.” The girl requested and Stiles scoffed at the common sentence every former couple says but never actually commits to. He felt her soft hand rest on his chin and lift his face that had fallen to look up back at her. “Stiles, I’m serious. I can’t lose you.”

“I can’t lose you either.” He confessed, feeling small.

“Promise me you’ll be in my life.” She requested. “Even if we don’t have the emotional stability to see each other all the time, just promise me you’ll at least be there for the big moments.”

Stiles looked into her breath-taking eyes and he felt himself getting lost in them. She was everything to him and he would never want to lose her friendship, even if that meant having a painful one. Butterflies made their way into her stomach when the edges of Stiles’ lips curled into a beautiful smile.

“I promise.”


~


Lydia Martin rushed down the halls of the beautiful hotel with the life-saving tool in her perfectly manicured hands, the sound of her heels clicking on the floor as she ran. Quickly opening the door to the dressing room she so desperately needed to approach, the redhead strode inside along with Malia hot on her trail. Their eyes landed on the girl that used to date Stiles who has now become one of their best friends and smiled the second they saw her smile at how breathless they both were.

“I got it!” Lydia celebrated, walking over to the girl and handing her the mascara that was in her hands.

“And I got this.” Malia smirked, gesturing towards the alcoholic beverage in her grasp.

“Congratulations to both of you.” (Y/N) laughed, taking the mascara Lydia was giving her and opening it to apply it on her eyelashes.

“Do you need help?” Lydia asked, closing the door to the dressing room.

“I’m okay.” She smiled, but immediately groaned when she smudged mascara on her eye lid. She turned away from the mirror she was using to face Lydia, who already had a grin on her face. “Please save me.”

“Alright, Alright.” The redhead chuckled, walking closer and taking the mascara from her. “Lydia Martin to the rescue.”

She began to put on the mascara on her eyelashes as she internally appreciated the rest of the makeup on (Y/N)’s flawless face. She had a simple smokey eye that really made her eye color pop along with the perfect amount of blush spread across her fair cheeks. She hadn’t put lipstick on yet considering it’s the last thing you should do when applying makeup, but Lydia already knew the right shade that would tie up her entire look.

“There you go.” The redhead smiled when she finished the job and closed the mascara, putting it on the dresser her friend was using. “All set.”

“Thanks, Lyds.” She smiled, her entire face glowing with happiness. “You’re a life saver.”

“I know.” Lydia smirked, pushing her strawberry blonde hair behind her shoulders for sass.

“You know who else is a life saver?” Malia spoke up, walking over to sit on the small couch. “Scott.”

“And why is that?” Lydia questioned.

“Because I just overheard someone was trying to sneak in and he took care of it.” Malia shrugged, taking a sip of her drink.

“Who was trying to sneak in?” (Y/N) asked, curious that someone would try to ruin her special day.

“I don’t know.” Malia shrugged. “But, the dude was absolutely hysterical from what I heard.”

Even though the girls didn’t want to believe her, Malia actually had a point. The person that wanted so desperately to enter the hotel indeed was hysterical. But, the thing was, he wasn’t just any person. He was Stiles Stilinski and he would stop at nothing to get inside to the girl he still loved after being away from her for an entire year.

“Bro, you know this isn’t a good idea!” Scott exclaimed at his best friend frantically trying to get out of the Alpha’s grasp. “Go home.”

“Scott, I can’t just go home!” Stiles whisper-shouted, careful not to let any of the guests know about the scene he was causing. He didn’t want to make things any worse than what he already had planned. “I have to see her.”

“And do what exactly?” Scott questioned, his eyes narrowing at the human.

“Stop her from marrying the wrong guy!” Stiles yelled and the werewolf let go of his best friend from how shocked he was, his jaw dropping and eyes widening at the process.

“You can’t do that.” He shook his head. “Stiles, don’t do that.”

“I have to, Scott.” The human answered, fixing his vest and letting out a sigh. “She’s the love of my life and I can’t let her walk down that aisle if I’m not the one at the end of it.”

“Stiles, this is the most idiotic plan you’ve ever had and that’s saying a lot considering all of the really bad ideas you’ve had before.”

“I don’t care.” Stiles huffed. “I have to talk to her.”

“Okay, fine.” Scott stated, his voice challenging. “I’ll let you in if you give me your invitation.”

Stiles’ eyes dropped to the floor in defeat and he shifted on his feet as Scott watched his best friend with a pained heart. He hates that he has to do this, but he’ll hate himself even more if he lets him go and Stiles gets hurt even more. The girl he loves is getting married today and she’s not just gonna drop everything for him. Life isn’t a movie, it’s real and usually comes with disappointing endings.

“I-I can’t.”

“Because you don’t have one.” Scott said and Stiles just nodded. “Don’t you think that’s enough of a sign to let you know that this isn’t something you should do?”

“What would you do if it was Allison marrying someone else?” Stiles asked, picking​ his head back up to look at Scott.

“I’d let her.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Stiles disagreed, knowing his best friend would fight for the love of his life until his very last breath. “And I’m not letting (Y/N) go either.”

“Stiles, you’re just gonna get hurt.”

“So, be it.”

Before Scott could even expect it, Stiles rushed past him and immediately ran down the halls towards the room he just witnessed Lydia and Malia entering. His detective skills made him deduct that that’s where the bride was and he approached it without even thinking, Scott running right after him.

The same door flew open from two running young adults for the second time today, but this time (Y/N) didn’t smile and lightly laugh when it was revealed who had barged into her dressing room. Instead, her smile she had on with the girls had faded.

Awkward tension instantly invaded the small space when hers and Stiles’ eyes landed on each other, her heart already stopping and her breath hitching in her now dry throat. Stiles was also shocked, not knowing what to expect when he finally saw her again after all that time. Neither one of them said anything, they just kept their wide eyes locked together and didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were both breathing heavily.

“I’m so sorry!” Scott shouted, breaking the awful silence. “I-I tried to stop him, I swear! But, he wouldn’t work with me and-”

“Scott, it’s okay.” The bride intervened his panic with a weak and strained voice.

“I-It is?” Scott stuttered in surprise and she nodded, everyone else in the room just as shocked as the werewolf.

“So, you’re the crazy dude trying to break in?” Malia spoke up and Stiles just nodded as well, not willing to take his stare off of the girl he wanted to be with. “Makes sense.”

Stiles’ eyes trailed across (Y/N), taking in her sight after missing it so much. She was so beautiful he had almost forgot. Sure, she was only in a purple satin robe and her hair was down in its natural state, but the young woman looked breath-taking to him anyway. And Stiles himself looked amazing to her. He was wearing a white button up shirt with a silver vest on top of it and a silver bowtie to tie everything together, not to mention the black tuxedo pants, and (Y/N) was certain she would faint at his never ending beauty.

“Guys, can you give me and Stiles a minute?” She asked and everyone’s eyebrows raised.

“Are you sure?” Lydia asked.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Lydia nodded, grabbing Malia’s hand as they walked towards the door. “We’ll be at the temple.”

The redhead got a hold of Scott last before she pulled the three outside and the werewolf shut the door behind them, leaving the two exes alone in the same room together. And to say they were both extremely nervous wouldn’t be enough to describe how intense everything felt.

“I wonder if my invite got lost in the mail.” Stiles cleared his throat, speaking up first. “Because I’m pretty sure I was supposed to receive one.”

“I-I didn’t think you’d want to come.” The bride responded nervously.

“Yeah, but I made you a promise, remember?” Stiles answered, taking a step towards her. “I’ll never miss the big moments.”

Her heart fluttered and she immediately stood up, approaching him as well. Their bodies closer and already craving the other at how much they missed each other.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” She confessed and Stiles smiled.

“Me, too.”

“Did you bring a date?” She asked and Stiles scoffed at her question.

“I could never.” He shrugged like it was the most obvious thing ever.

“Why not?” (Y/N) tilted her head to the side, confused as to why someone so handsome like him wouldn’t have a girl attached to his arms.

“Because I’m in love with someone else.”

She didn’t even have to ask who it was, just by the way he was gawking at her like she was the only girl in the world made her already know. She hadn’t cried since that night she saw Stiles at her birthday party, but that strike was about to be ruined with how the familiar burning sensation poked in her eyes.

“Stiles, y-you should really go.” She stuttered, worried that if he stayed something would happen between them.

She loves her fiancee more than anything in the world, but there’s always going to be something there with Stiles. He was her first boyfriend, her first time, her first love, her first everything. That kind of person doesn’t just go away in your life, they’ll always be there lingering in the back of your mind and there’s nothing you can do to change that.

“Not without doing this first.” He shook his head, taking one more step towards her until he finally reached her.

Stiles’ hands gently grabbed her cheeks and, without even thinking twice, he crashed his soft lips against her plump ones. The bride couldn’t even find it in herself to stop him, her mind and body already falling into a trance. She understood that letting him kiss her was wrong especially since she was about to get married to another man in a few, but all she could think about was his familiar mouth moving against hers.

The kiss wasn’t just any simple kiss though, it was full of love and saudade. A word in portuguese that means a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent someone that one loves. Saudade was once described as “the love that remains” after someone is gone and is the recollection of feelings or experiences that once brought excitement, pleasure, well-being, happiness. Which now triggers the senses and makes one feel alive again.

Once they both needed to breathe, Stiles pulled away but kept his hands on her face. He smiled at how swollen her lips now were and she felt thankful for not having put any lipstick on before he arrived.

“I love you.” Stiles stated, caressing her skin with his thumb and smiled.

She didn’t say it back or really had the time to if she wanted to say it in the first place because the next thing she knew Stiles’ lips are back on hers and he’s pushing her towards her dresser, the back of her knees hitting the edge. Stiles’ hands moved from her cheeks to swipe away all of the makeup on the dresser, throwing them on the floor, and lift her up on the surface. When his lips went from hers to place tempting kisses on her neck as he slowly untied her robe, (Y/N) immediately snapped back into reality.

“Stop!” She exclaimed, instantly pushing him off of her and breathing in the air her lungs were begging for.

“Did I do something wrong?” Stiles panted, his voice worried.

“Yes! I’m about to get married, Stiles! You can’t just kiss me or try anything else!”

“I-I’m sorry.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Leave, Stiles.” She ordered, pointing to the door. “You can’t be here.”

“No, no, no. I don’t want to go and I know you don’t want that either.” Stiles shook his head frantically, approaching her again. “Remember when you asked me to always be in your life?”

“Yeah, but not like this!” She flailed her arms to express her frustration. “I want us to be friends not destroy each other with our lingering feelings.”

“I’m sorry, I really am. But, my feelings are always gonna be there.” Stiles placed his hands on the surface around her thighs, but didn’t dare touch her out of respect. “Especially since how we ended things so abruptly! I never got the proper closure.”

“And neither did I.” She retorted. “But we have to move on, Stiles. We’re just two disasters that are detrimental to each other. We aren’t meant to be.”

“I can’t be apart from you.”

“I can’t be with you.”

Silence filled the room as they both thought, neither one of them ready to except the other’s terms. Stiles can’t imagine a life not alongside (Y/N) and she can’t imagine a life constantly being lied to with him.

“Does he make you happy?” Stiles asked suddenly and she certainly didn’t expect it.

“Yes, he does.”

Stiles couldn’t handle the truth she just confessed to him because in that moment it finally hit him will full force. He would never get the girl he was in love with back ever again. She had slipped from his hands and there really was nothing he could do to have her return. The gorgeous bride before him was the one that got away.

“So, is this it?” He asked, not caring that there were actually tears escaping from his eyes. “Is this the end of our love story?”

She didn’t dare say anything because she knew if she did she would burst into tears and sobs. Instead, the bride just nodded.

“C-Can I say goodbye?” Stiles asked, never feeling more vulnerable in his entire life.

“Yeah.” She shrugged, thinking he was just going to hug her and leave but was completely surprised when he kissed her again.

Stiles held tightly on her waist and kissed her with so much force, she almost fell back on the mirror. (Y/N) knew that this would be their last kiss ever and therefore didn’t feel the need to stop him. She allowed Stiles to kiss her with everything he had in him and she kissed him back just as passionately. Both of them forgot the whole world around them as they let themselves fall into this moment of pure weakness.

“I’ll go now.” Stiles breathed, pulling away and placing one last kiss on her forehead as he let go of her to leave the room.

The blushing bride thought long and hard before she decided that that wasn’t enough to say goodbye. She was well aware she was about to get married, but she also knew that this was the last time she’d ever have the opportunity to be with Stiles again. After today, they would be officially over and, for that reason, she immediately grabbed his hand and stopped him in his tracks. Stiles instantly turned around with wide eyes when she pulled him back to her.

“Wait,” She stated, spreading her legs for Stiles to settle in between them and placing her hands on the back of his neck. “Not yet.”

Before he could even ask what the yet meant in her sentence, her mouth returned on his and this time she was the one that kissed him hard. Out of pure instinct, his hands rested on her waist and she tugged his hair which earned her a small moan from Stiles. She took advantage of this and slid her tongue inside, Stiles moaning again in surprise.

“What are you doing?” Stiles panted, breaking their kiss the second she began undoing his bowtie and threw it on the floor.

“Saying goodbye the right way.”

He finally understood what she was getting at when she pushed his vest off his shoulders and began unbuttoning his white shirt. Stiles didn’t waste any time either, considering she was literally on a tight schedule, and untied the straps of her robe. The satin fabric fell on her dresser and Stiles let out a shameless moan when he realized she was completely naked.

“I didn’t want any panty lines.” She shrugged, taking off his shirt. “And the dress has a built-in bra anyway.”

“Oh, I am in no way complaining.” Stiles smirked, letting go of her to quickly unbuckle his belt and open his pants. They instantly fell on the floor and he pulled off his boxers as well, stepping out of both pieces of clothing.

The two gawked at each other, enjoying the sight of one another’s naked bodies after spending so much time away. Stiles licked his lips at her perky nipples, waiting to be nibbled on, and she couldn’t take her eyes off of his increasing erection. He wasn’t at his full potential just yet, but the young woman still believed he looked incredibly sexy.

Stiles’ lips attacked her neck and sucked hard on her pulse point, his hands wrapping around her back as he pushed her bare body into his.

“Don’t leave any marks.” She requested and the words without a doubt wounded him because he knew she didn’t want any evidence of their time together. Even though it hurt like a bitch, Stiles pushed the pain down and focused on making her moan.

Which he definitely succeeded in because in a matter of seconds, the bride was a whimpering mess under him and the sounds jolted through him straight to his dick. What turned her on even more than what he already was doing to her was the delicious feeling of his erection rubbing against the inside of her thigh.

“Stiles, we don’t have much time.” She moaned, her hips bucking against him and begging for the friction to calm down the throbbing ache in her core.

“Are you wet enough?” He asked before bringing his hand down her body to slide his finger through her surprisingly soaking folds. “Oh, you definitely are.”

Stiles’ middle finger landed on her swollen clitoris and her eyes immediately shut when he rubbed slow circles against her wet nub. The increasing feeling of desire rushed through both of their bodies and he couldn’t help himself when he attached his mouth on one of her inviting breasts, sucking hard as his tongue flicked her nipple. The bride could already feel pleasure build inside of her and she knew that she would lose her mind if he wasn’t in her soon enough.

“Stiles,” She panted, the young man’s cock twitching at the sound of her begging his name. “Please.”

“Okay, okay.” Stiles nodded, biting down on her nipple and letting go of her now wet breast with a pop. “I don’t suppose you have a condom on you, do you?”

“No.” She laughed. “But, we don’t need one.”

“We don’t?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I’m on the pill.” She stated and the pain inside of him resurfaced when he realized just why she was taking such precautions.

Stiles didn’t want to think about the fact that she was having sex with someone else and that, after tonight, he’ll be able to touch her, kiss her, hold her, make love to her as much as he damn pleases. The woman that has his ruined heart in her hands was going to be a wife and what hurt most was she wasn’t going to be his wife. The young man decided to ignore his feelings and just enjoy this one last moment with her as fully as he could.

Stiles removed his hand from her core and used it to pump himself a few times as she spread her legs more for him. When he felt like he was ready enough, Stiles aligned himself with her entrance and slowly pushed in. (Y/N) immediately moaned at the feeling of his thick staff stretching her tight walls and Stiles was a mess of so many different emotions.

Of course he was extremely turned on and loved that his cock was now buried deep inside of her, but he was also sad and actually felt like crying. Saying goodbye to the hope he had of being with her again was the hardest thing he’d ever have to do and Stiles, honestly, didn’t know if he could bear it. Sure, the girl he was currently making love to wasn’t the only one in the universe. But, to Stiles it seemed like she was.

He thrusted inside of her slowly and let his head fall on her shoulder at the incredible sensation of his member sliding in and out of her tight walls. Pleasure grew quickly in the two, both of them enjoying the feeling of being one again. The throbbing inside of her stopped, but appeared in Stiles instead. His cock unable to hide how much he adored her warm and slick core around him.

After making sure she was ready for it, Stiles increased his pace and was pounding inside of her in no time. All of the built up sexual frustration and tension between them really helped to make the knots in their stomachs tighten immediately. Stiles hitched her feet up on the dresser and (Y/N) couldn’t find the self control in her to keep her screams down. Stiles was fucking her in an entirely different angle, repeatedly hitting a sensitive spot she didn’t even know she had, and she didn’t care if people could hear how loud she was.

Stiles didn’t care either, in fact he secretly wanted people to hear. He wanted everyone to know that he was the one giving her immense pleasure and that no one in the world could make love to her like he could. She was screaming underneath him and her core would occasionally clench around Stiles, making him scream out as well. The continuous fast pace and hard thrusting didn’t take long to make the two near their much anticipated orgasms.

Not only did the dirty sounds of their moans and screams echo in the dressing room, but so did the sound of the dresser roughly banging against the wall along with their connected and wet groins slapping together. The sounds were music to Stiles’ ears and he never wanted to ever stop being with her. But, he knew that that wish would soon meet its end from how obviously close she was to falling over the edge. Without really wanting to, Stiles brought his hand down to her clitoris and rubbed intensely to guide her to her release.

The knot inside of her instantly exploded and spread an inexplicable amount of pleasure all throughout her body. It was so intense that she couldn’t control her own shaking and her core clenching down on him. Which, in response, Stiles immediately came as well. (Y/N) moaned at the feeling of his heated liquid shooting up inside of her and Stiles didn’t stop thrusting any time soon. He wanted to soak in this last memory they would create together as much as he could and he wanted it to last.

It was when she put her hands on his hips to stop his friction from how sensitive she’d become that Stiles halted his movements. Her ex-boyfriend then proceeded to place sweet kisses on her neck and cheeks before reluctantly pulling out. Stiles enjoyed the sight of her completely breathless because of him and his wet dick glistening with her juices one last time.

(Y/N) used her robe to clean herself up as Stiles put his clothes back on. His pants were the first ones on, followed by his white shirt and vest. The bride jumped off the desk and Stiles instinctively ran to her aid when her knees wobbled and she almost fell.

“You okay?” He asked and she nodded with a smile, giggling at the situation.

“I couldn’t be better.”

“Well, you are getting married today after all.” Stiles smiled.

“Which reminds me!” She pulled away from his grasp and rushed over to a rack that held her absolutely gorgeous wedding dress. “Can you help me put this on? I’ll help you tie your bowtie.”

“Of course.” Stiles chuckled, putting his undone bowtie around his neck as he approached her.

Stiles carefully and kindfully helped her put her wedding dress on and he almost fainted at how beautiful she looked. His eyes watered at the breath-taking sight and he envied her groom because he was the luckiest man in the entire world.

“How do I look?” She asked, spinning around in her dress happily.

“Words cannot describe how amazing you look.” Stiles answered truthfully and the bride blushed in response. “He’s a lucky man, you know.”

“I do know.”

“(Y/N), I hope he’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of.” Stiles confessed, gazing straight into her doe eyes. “I hope he always pick up your calls on the first ring, I hope he buys you flowers every damn day, I hope he takes you to every party this town can offer because I know how much you love to dance, I hope he never cancels on dates because you will always be his priority, I hope he gives you all of his hours when he has the chance, and I hope he does and is everything I should’ve when I was your man.”

“Me, too.” She responded, unable to hold back the few tears that rolled down her heated cheeks.

“Goodbye, (Y/N).”

“Goodbye, Stiles.”

The bride fixed Stiles’ bowtie with a never ending smile on her face and when they were both finally ready, the two former lovers walked out of the dressing room and headed towards the temple. Stiles entered the room first and sat right beside Scott, who definitely had a confused look on his face especially since his best friend smelled mostly of sex. But, also of another prominent emotion that made the werewolf’s heart burn as he watched Stiles gaze at the girl he loved so dearly when she happily walked down the aisle: sadness.

“Are you okay?” Scott asked his brother.

The word saudade is not only the definition of an inexplicable longing for someone you lost, but it can also carry a repressed knowledge that the person of longing might never return.

“Yeah, Scott. I really am.”

Stiles Stilinski knew that he would never get her back in his arms. But, he also knew that as long as she was completely happy-

He would find a way to be, too.

[TRANS] Shukan Josei - Main Interview

Q. “You just released your first ‘BEST OF’ Album, ‘THE BEST OF BTS,’ which covered all of your activities in Japan for two and a half years. Are there any songs that deeply attached to?”
JH: For me it’s “FOR YOU.” It was our first original Japanese song, so it’s very meaningful to me.
SG: For me it’s the Japanese version of “I NEED U.” I like how the Japanese lyrics are slightly different than the Korean lyrics. 

Q. “Within the Japanese activities until now, what has left an impression (on you)?”
J: This is not exactly what you are talking about, but… during the last song of a concert, I always look all around the venue. During that moment, I feel something that isn’t quite happiness nor sadness, it becomes this feeling where I am unable to say anything. That lingering feeling during the ending left the strongest impression. Every concert truly leaves me warm hearted.
JM: Our first showcase (December 2013) was in front of about 500 fans. As we did more performances, our venue has grown as well. Now, we have been able to meet lots of fans through our arena tours. Every time, I am very grateful for everything that has happened.
SG: I was also super happy when we were able to participate in large music festivals such as Summer Sonic and a-nation!

Q. “At the 2016 Mnet Asian Music Awards” you won the grand prize (Daesang), given to the ‘Artist of the Year.’ We saw the tears up on stage, what did you feel then?”
SG: When we heard the announcement, I started to remember everything we achieved from when we were trainees 7 years ago. The tough times, the happy times. So many memories were going through my head and my heart was full of emotion. Before I realized it, I was crying. I couldn’t stop the tears…
JK: I was really grateful to our ARMYs. That’s why, whatever happened, I didn’t want to cry on stage, but I saw the fans and couldn’t help but cry because they have worked hard with us and supported us. I was so grateful that I cried. I am really…, we are really lucky.
RM: We were so happy that we went to eat dinner right after arriving back in Korea from Hong Kong! We ordered pasta and pizza.
JH: Since the day after we won the award was also Jin-hyung’s birthday,
V: We were able to celebrate both (at the same time).
J: I ate suuuper delicious food (serious face)!
JH: While we ate, we all reminisced.
JM: It was fun.

Q. “Apart from the award, BTS was the first Korean artist to place 26th on the American Billboard Chart and placed 1st for the iTunes Chart for 27 countries. 2016 must be a year you’ll never forget.”
SG
: When we go to countries like Brazil, which are on the opposite side of the world from Korea, and feel the love from fans in those countries, I feel that we are really benefiting from this age in time.
V: But…, I want to be more love in Japan as well! (he then made a dog with his fingers and pretended to bite the arm of Jungkook who was sitting next to him)
JK: (As if this was familiar (to Jungkook), while escaping from V [he said]) That’s right, we really think this.
RM: It’s really interesting. When we perform overseas, fans of completely different nationalities and languages sing our songs with us.
V: It’s amazing.
RM: This year will be the start of a new “time” that is different from before, for both us and the fans.
JM: The truth is, right now, there is a performance that we are thinking of. One which will look cool to anyone and shows us enjoying the stage. We will continue running towards that goal.
JK: I want to grow more! In order for that growth to become our weapon.

Q. “Continuous hard work made the BTS who they are today. By the way, what is something that has and has not changed about BTS since debut?”
SG
: Something that hasn’t changed since debut is our mindset that singing and performance are the top priorities. Even though there are things each member wants to try, we think that we should first think about the goals of the group and what we should aim to be as a group. I think that is one of our strong points (as well).
RM
: Another one is practice. First, practice. Second, practice. Recently, things that used to take 10 will now only take 5. I think that we’ve become more efficient.

Q. “Seeing your performances, the dances are so complex, it looks really tiring…”
SG: (serious face) To be honest, it is tiring.
BTS: (lol)
RM
: But that intense practice is what made us who we are today, so we can’t stop.
V: Don’t stop~!

Q. “I want to recommend that you guys stop and rest sometimes.”
SG: Recently, it’s been very difficult because we’ve had to practice tough choreography continuously for many performances. Until around last year, it’s accurate to say that we just pushed through with it. But we realized that that could damage our health, so recently we eat healthier and take supplements to stand on stage while maintaining our health.
JK: We have to increase our endurance.

Q. “We’ll go back to the (previous) topic, but what has changed about you (since debut)?”
V: When we debuted, we didn’t know anything, so we just worked hard at what we were told to do. Now we can express our own opinions and think about what to do next.
JK: Yeah, we’ve now come to think deeply about a lot of things. Rather than say this was a change, it seems that our attitude towards work has matured.
JM: Our feelings towards the stage and our fans have changed as well.
JH: Our growth as humans, in performance, and in how we interact with everyone. So many things have changed, but what has changed most is our internal feelings. It’s as if we’ve accepted and acknowledged that “we are professionals.” Things that are seen by the public and thing that aren’t.
JM: “We are professionals”?… Surely, the way we look has changed a lot too.
RM: When we were trainees, for all of us, our singing, dance, and fashion sense were not refined (lol). But now, I feel like we look a bit more like celebrities. 

Q. “So, from now on you will continue to grow as artists and continue to ‘Attack on Bangtan.’”
J: We will continue to attack!
RM
: We can’t stop now (lol).

Trans cr: Mia & Kylie @ allforbts
© Please credit when taking out

Best Friend Series; Vernon/Hansol

- you meet hansol in high school
- you remember walking into class one day and the teacher announces that there’s a new kid in the class
- this cool boy enters the classroom and you could already tell a few girls developed a tiny crush on him
- the new kid introduces himself as hansol vernon chwe and he just moved to korea from america
- you’re like wow good-looking, fluent english and cool? he’s going to be popular i can see it
- but you know what surprisingly not
- hansol prefers to keep to himself you noticed when a bunch of girls approached him during breaktime and all he did was answer in one word or simply nod
- he’s just so awkward and quiet that everyone kind of…… forgot about him……. like his popularity just died so quickly
- it also doesn’t help that he always has his headphones on but you know what we’ll get back to this later
- hansol disappears during lunchtime you notice, like he’s never eating in class or in the cafeteria
- one day, you want to go eat up on the roof because it’s such a nice sunny day
- but your friends tell you that they have to go to the teacher’s office to ask some questions about the new material you’re learning but you didn’t want to waste such a beautiful day so you go by yourself
- and up there you find hansol
- he’s sitting by the fence and looking at the view while listening to his headphones
- but what catches your eye are the notebooks scattered around him, especially the one in his hand
- you’re like wait is he an artist??
- you walk towards him and once you reach him, you tap his shoulder, causing him to turn around and pull down his headphones
- he asks “oh hi, uhhh do you need anything?”
- you shake your head and ask “what are you doing up here all by yourself?”
- hansol looks down at his notebook for a second and says “i’m….. working on something…” and you ask “oh are you getting started on the project (teacher name) gave us?? wow you’re quick”
- and hansol says “oh no it’s a personal project actually” he pauses before continuing “if it’s no trouble at all…… do you mind…… helping me out?”
- you say “oh sure idk if i’ll be of any help but i could try” and you sit next to him and he passes you his notebook and says “can you let me know what you think of this?”
- you look down at the notebook and you realize that it’s not a sketch
- but rap lyrics
- you’re like !!! DID YOU WRITE THESE YOURSELF ??? and hansol shyly nods his head
- you tell him “THIS IS AMAZING I DIDN’T KNOW YOU COULD WRITE LYRICS THIS GOOD” and with his permission, you flip through the other pages and they’re just filled with drafts of rap lyrics he wrote himself
- you continue to admire his work when hansol suddenly nudges you
- when you turn to him, he holds out his headphones to you and says “can you listen to these too? if you don’t mind, i mean….. it’s just a little something i’ve been working on lately”
- and you discover that he takes instrumentals of certain songs and inserts his own lyrics into them and he’s just so talented
- you also discover that you both have the same music taste and you bond over it for the rest of the lunch period
- when it’s over, hansol says “ummm do you maybe…. want to walk to class together….?” and of course you say “YES LET’S GO”
- hansol moves from his spot next to the window to the spot next to you and your whole class is like ohhh what’s happening here ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
- on days you’re free, you meet up with hansol during lunch period or after school for updates on his rap lyrics
- and through these little meet-ups guess what you become BEST FRIENDS
- you notice how quiet hansol is in class and in front of people he’s not familiar with but he’s so fricking loud when he’s with you
- while everyone’s like “hansol you should speak more!!” you’re like “no no stfu not another word hansol”
- hangouts either mean sitting around in some secret hideout or in a nice restaurant with a patio where hansol can write lyrics and you can eat all the food because he’s treating you
- when you go to his house for the first time you meet his little sister sofia and she LOVES you
- hansol was so happy because sofia means the world to him but when she started telling you a bunch of embarrassing and stupid things he’s done, he always finds excuses to not let you come over
- “hansol raps while he’s sitting on the toilet” “SOFIA”
- “omg did you know he never brought a girl home because he’s scared of girls you’re the first—” “SOFIA ENOUGH”
- the type whose laugh is funnier than the joke
- rap battles out of nowhere
- normally really quiet and calm until he wins something, it could be something small like a free bubble tea but he’d act like he won a music award
- “(NAME) I WON THIS”
- dances so awkwardly it makes you cringe for life
- but then when one of his favorite songs come on, he knows every step and moves fluidly and you’re like ??? who are you ???
- knows the raps for like every song you’re like JUST HOW
- you have to drag him everywhere because he’s either never in the mood to do something or he’d rather just stay home and watch movies all day
- “no hansol we’re going to check out that new ice cream shop you’re coming with me I DON’T CARE IF YOU DON’T WANT TO TOO BAD”
- but when he wants to go somewhere, you’re the first person who pops into his mind
- because you’re the first friend he made at his new school, and you’re the first person who kept talking to him despite how quiet and awkward he is
- he can’t thank you enough
- “aaand here’s your birthday card!!”
- “….did you write these lyrics about me?”
- “maaaybe. oh and this is your gift, sorry it’s small but you know i’m only 17 i only got a few dollars”
- “hansol you’re 19 now shut up”

I’ve been asked many times to share some of my deleted scenes from the Raven Cycle. The outtakes. Here’s the thing:

- they do exist. The Dream Thieves is 125k words long, give or take. My outtakes file for it — stuff that I cut out of the draft — is about 150k words long.

- they’re not exciting.

- they are either more boring versions of scenes that are in the book, bits of scenes that were going on for too long, or aborted plot lines. Sometimes they were me just writing my way around in circles while I figured out what I wanted out of life. Bits of book 2 ended up in book 3 and book 1 ended up in book 4, etc. etc. Timelines were always strange — The Dream Thieves used to begin with a prologue where Ronan lost the Camaro to Kavinsky in a drag race, and a lot of the outtakes involve me writing my way out of that. 

That said, here are some bits and bobs from the Dream Thieves outtakes file. Under a cut, because this is a lot of words. Still not even approaching the number of words in the outtakes file. But. A lot of words.

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The daughter's burden

Batfam X reader
Description: reader is Bruce’s actual daughter and doesn’t know about the “night jobs” that the family has. Requested.
A/n: this can end 2 ways. Really bad or really good. We’ll see. Sorry it’s long
*******

Y/n L/n, the true daughter of Bruce Wayne. The media was having a field day when they realized that he actually had another kid. Your mom had recently died of cancer and you had never known your father. You had found a letter from her explaining your parentage and when you showed it to the woman in charge of your foster home, she had insisted on a DNA test. The results were positive.

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18 (Ethan)

⚤ - CONTAINS SMUT 

The room was buzzing as everyone gathered around to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to your boyfriend Ethan and his twin brother, Grayson. The night had been filled with music, dancing, and general party fun. Ethan and Grayson had sworn they weren’t going to have a big party but their older sister, Cameron, had insisted otherwise. 

“You guys have to celebrate! It’s your 18th birthday! Besides, how often are you home in Jersey the same time all our cousins are down? They’d be disappointed if you didn’t have a party.” 

Ethan shook his head, frowning. Both he and Grayson, ridden with social anxiety at times, generally didn’t like loud or crowded situations. Especially when they were both the centre of attention but you had assured Ethan with a squeeze of his hand in your own that you’d be there with him the whole way through. You had spent majority of that week planning the party with Cameron and you even had a small surprise for Ethan of your own later that night. A trip to Victoria’s Secret and you were ready to blow his mind. You had reserved a hotel room for you and Ethan that night because somehow his childhood bedroom didn’t really seem like a very romantic or sexy setting.

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Touka and Mutsuki, setting up foils and conflict

What you said about mutsuki and touka how they are both fixating on the same thing kinda like a dream was really interesting and true to me. It makes the whole touka mutsuki kaneki/haise conflict even more complex would love to hear more about that from you 

Alright, since I’m the one who brought up this idea and also I’ve seen it go around in others inboxes, I’m going to devote the Touka and Mutsuki comparison to its own Meta rather than just having it as a point in a shared meta. 

To clarify, what do I mean when I say that both Touka and Mutsuki fixate unhealthily on the idea of Kaneki/Haise? Also, why does the narrative set this up?

To begin with, I’ve received several asks as to what I mean by Touka is obsessed with Kaneki, and I’ve also seen other people point out that Mutsuki’s love for Haise is way different and much more violent than Touka’s all accepting love for him and therefore there’s no point in comparing them. However, I raise that this seemingly total opposite difference is exactly why we must compare them. Let me demonstrate to with another chart:

The two are in opposite directions, and Mutsuki is much more extreme yes. However if Mutsuki were not compared to Touka in this moment, you might mistake Touka’s own devotion as healthy if it were not being flagged like this. This is literally the origin of the term foil, which is a foil placed on a stage to highlight something, its something used to call attention to something in someone else.  Let’s elaborate under the cut though. 

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3

RIVETRA THEORY
(I’ve been working on this forever omg)

But before anything starts I want to just confirm.
THIS IS A THEORY DO NOT TAKE MY INTERPRETATIONS AS FACT UNLESS I PROVIDE EVIDENCE OF A CERTAIN CLAIM OK? EX: Levi thinks Petra is cute due to an interview, Levi likes black tea, Levi wishes he was tall etc.


The way I see things, I believe that the way Rivetra works in the show is an unrequited love on both ends.
Let me explain.
Levi knows that he had a deep feeling of respect as well as a sense of defense over Petra in many scenes of the manga and the anime.
Such as warning the left flank, helping the wounded etc.
He always positioned her away from danger despite her having a higher kill stat than him. (evidence provided in the official guidebook)
Now, when he is searching for his squad after their deaths he begins to slowly pass each body, I noticed he didn’t pass them in order of how they died.
When this scene happened, I was expecting that’s what they would do to try and prove no greater connection over a single member. You know, show that he had a strong bond with all of them as a whole as equals.
But, he found Petra last. It almost felt like they wanted him to find Petra last in a way to say “he was searching for her in hopes she was alive.” (In my opinion, don’t take this as fact)
And I feel that once he fights the female Titan, and is now gathering the dead bodies, his expression is a lot more hurt and furious than when he first saw her.

Not to mention in the official wiki he was described to be “protecting Petra’s body” when they were going back to the walls, even when he knows it’s just her dead body, and that she’s long gone.
I mean in the anime he told those soldiers to leave their friend’s body behind because it’s just that. A body. Levi decides to comfort him with a patch later on, stating that the reason he even took the patches from their uniforms was because it comforted him.

We see that he only took Petra’s on screen. (Very heartbreaking but selfless of him to sacrifice his own comfort for a comrade mourning) But…How do we know it’s her? Her skin tone is light, just like the body’s (they haven’t been dead too long and blood loss may have been heavy but she still would bare the closest resemblance) and it has a bite mark imprinted in the skin on their hand. The only other person who’s hand was focused on in the anime around that time was hers.
It triggered the transition from the flashback to the present, and Petra was the one to speak on behalf of the squad as to why they even did it. She was the one that filled that mark with the most heart. So, it’s about 90% clear to assume it was her body.
He reassured himself another time when the bodies were dropped that she was only a body then. She’s gone and there’s no point in staying trapped in a rut of thoughts of what could’ve been. I see it as a sense of self comfort as he tried not to look back to Petra’s body (he failed though) to spare him any pain, frustration, or regret.


He’s having more trouble remaining stoic with his emotions than before. So that means he OBVIOUSLY cares that his squad died, but it was when he saw Petra that the expression set for a longer period of time.
My interpretation of this is that he was frustrated at himself for still not knowing whether or not he had feelings for her or not. It’s only until he meets Petra’s father when it clicks to him that he may have actually harbored feelings of love towards her, without even realizing it.

Same goes for Petra. She translated it through her letter as devotion and dedication in a form of respect towards him, because she may have mis-categorized her true feelings. After all, her Father is the one interpreting marriage and such, showing he may have seen past her real feelings though a bit more extreme.


I even looked through the panels of the manga, and every time there’s a free space for the squad, Petra is always talking to Levi showing more proof that there was an obviously strong connection. They may have loved each other without even realizing it, and it makes sense considering they don’t necessarily focus on love in their world and in the anime.

Speaking of the anime and revisiting a previous statement, there’s a scene shown only in the anime and never in the manga where Petra’s body falls, and Levi is shown looking back in regret. Isayama green lights every scene put in the show and is notorious for adding scenes he wished he could’ve put in the original source material. But why? Why would that scene be necessary enough to put in if it wasn’t even in the manga? I personally believe it may be because he wanted to translate their bond more.

There’s also the evidence of having their own Valentine’s Day art out of all possible couples where Petra is giving her own gift to Levi.
Petra even had the honor of receiving her own Birthday art which very few characters had received.
If she wasn’t an important character like others say, then why did she make such an impact on the franchise to keep reappearing even after she was killed off?
Notice that the two men in her art are Eren and Levi, because she had made an impact in both their lives.
Eren was taught to trust in others, and now understands that he must earn trust before receiving it.
While Levi?….What connection is it that differs from the rest of her squad?
In his separate card for her birthday art, he says that Petra picked out the suit for him and found it helpful she did, confirming the canon that Petra on occasion picks out his clothes when he’s out of uniform.
Pretty close for being a Captain and Subordinate, no?
Not to mention it was confirmed a while back that Levi saw Petra as a cute subordinate, whether or not he loved her as a significant other was still undetermined, but he definitely loved her as a comrade at the very least. Canon as a relationship or not, they still have a strong bond I wish I could explore more!
Ahhh, it’s so interesting.

I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it, and also understands this is a theory and the pairing isn’t considered canon officially. It’s honestly just my view of why I still hang onto this ship for so long! I apologize if it’s a bit scrambled it’s so late at night when I finished! ε-(´∀`; )

The Most Disturbing Things in John Winchester’s Journal:  A Comprehensive Study.

@jaredsnuggles made a really incredible post about all mentions of the boys in John Winchester’s journal.  It’s incredibly helpful for writing reference, and filled with genuinely heartwarming moments and an interesting glimpse into John’s POV.

But as someone who’s pretty infamously critical of John’s parenting skills, what I most noticed was the progressively disturbing way in which the boys were brought up, the responsibilities placed on them, and the way in may have impacted their psyches (performing!Dean, anyone?) 

So let’s take a look at some of the most blatant examples of the Winchester’s upbringing that would have had the Child Protective Services knocking on most people’s doorsteps, and how it may have influenced the people they’ve become.


1.  Encouraging violent, illegal, and womanizing behavior:  

  • Dean turns fourteen today. He took off to the movies with a girlfriend. I think her name is Katie. Quite the ladykiller, that kid. Like I was at his age. Hell-raising, foul-mouthed, full of piss and vinegar. Silas had it right: he’s like me. If I’m not careful with him, by the time he’s twenty he’ll have left a trail of kids and arrest warrants all over the country. 

For some reference, Dean was not “a lady killer” at that age.  He was fourteen at the time, and didn’t even have his first kiss until he was at the boy’s home (where John dropped him) at age sixteen.  
At fourteen, he was still a child, having a presumably very chaste relationship with another child, seeing as it didn’t even involve the rudimentary making out.

  • Dean turns twenty-one today. I’d buy him a beer if I thought it would be something new. He’s also old enough to buy his own guns now. I tried to raise him right, and looks like I did. He’s a scam artist, a ladies’ man, and an absolutely loyal son. He knows what’s right and doesn’t hesitate to do it. I’m proud of him. Now that he’s hunting on his own I don’t see as much of him, but I know he’s out there. When I call him in on a job, he’s right there every time. I’ve spent the last sixteen years afraid that I was going to screw him up somehow. Maybe now I can forget about that.

This one is just messed up on multiple levels.  For one thing, there’s a lot of talk about “performing!Dean” within the fandom, and it’s easy to see where that persona comes from:  this, along with his ability to shoot, kill, and protect Sam, is one of the few times John expresses overt pride in Dean.  Of course a child/young man struggling to garner his father’s affection and approval would adopt the most suitable persona possible to do so.

It’s my opinion that Dean, at his heart, isn’t a “scam artist” or a “ladies’ man:”  he’s a homebody who loves to cook and clean and take care of people, with a lot of traditionally feminine characteristics.  He can also be interpreted as having a lot of internalized same-sex attraction.

Would John have accepted that?  From what I’ve seen, probably not.  Performing!Dean is just the son John wanted. 

2.  Age-inappropriate responsibility/obsessive behavior:

  • I took the boys, said good-bye to Missouri, and got the hell out of Lawrence. If I never go back, it’ll be too soon. Not for Dean, though. The first thing he wanted to know was when we would go home. But we don’t have a home anymore, Dean. The sooner you get used to that, the better. We don’t have a home until we find what killed your mother. 

The fact that it was hammered into Dean’s brain that they didn’t, and would not, have a home for the foreseeable future would have been a tremendous blow to a child’s psyche – particularly when it was just mentioned that he wasn’t speaking or leaving John or Sam’s side less than a month prior.

  • I’ll hunt, and the boys will hunt, and we will find whatever killed Mary and we will send it to Hell. And on the way, we will kill every monster and ghoul and ghost and demon and anything else. My boys will not grow up to experience what I have. They will not lose what I have lost. 

As always, his intentions are clearly good here, but for some reference, this was 1983.  The same year Mary died.  Dean was four, Sam was an infant, and he’s already decided that they can and will hunt.

  • Took Dean shooting. If he’s big enough to try to comfort me, he’s big enough to start learning the tools of the trade. I only let him fire the .22, but he is a deadeye marksman. My drill sergeant would have taken him over me in a second. Times like this, I sure am proud of my boy. I have a feeling it’ll be different with Sammy. Maybe he’s just too young to show it, but I don’t think he’s got the same kind of killer instinct. 

There are two disturbing things going on here:  Dean is being taught to kill at age six, and John’s reasoning is the fact that because he’s old enough to serve as emotional provider for a fully grown man, he should be able to.  And also, there’s something about a six-year-old having a “killer instinct” that just sounds incongruous to me.

This is also one of the few times he expresses genuine pride in Dean.

  • For his seventh birthday, I took Dean shooting again. He wanted to fire one of the big guns—that’s what he called them. I let him shoot the Browning, but I steadied his hands. Sammy wanted me to help him make Dean a card. It was like a normal day, like we were a normal family with a mom who was off shopping or at work or something. Instead of dead. That illusion never lasts. I can’t afford to let it. 
  • Sammy is five today. Thank God. He almost didn’t make it. I could blame Dean, but it’s my fault. There’s enough blame to go around. I missed the kill, and I left Dean watching Sam, and he couldn’t pull the trigger when he needed to. I haven’t taught him well enough. If he is weak like that again, my boys will die.

The fact that he’s blaming his nine-year-old son for his inability to kill, subconsciously or otherwise, in addition to putting a nine-year-old in a situation where he’d need to kill, is disconcerting to say the least. 

  • Last night, Sammy woke up in the middle of the night telling me he was afraid of the thing in the closet. I went and looked. There was nothing in the closet, but I’ve seen too much not to believe that there could be. So I handed Sammy the .45 and told him the next time he saw the thing in the closet, he knew what to do. I don’t think I’ll win any awards from parenting organizations, but five nights running now Sammy has slept without nightmares. Sometimes a .45 under your pillow is all you need. 

Sammy is sixteen years old today. God knows he’s got plenty of torments. Now he’s got a driver’s license, too. Doesn’t make much difference. He’s known how to drive since he was nine.

3.  Neglect:

  • Mary, you know I would never leave the boys with strangers I couldn’t trust. You know that, right? I never would. 

The fact that he is apparently leaving them with strangers, regardless of whether or not they’re “trustworthy,” when at this point they are still toddlers, is by definition neglectful behavior.

4.  Paranoia/controlling behavior: 

  • Dean turns five today. I was thinking about where we’re going to be in the fall, because he should start school. Then I realized that I can’t leave him in a school. Anything could happen. Maybe a place that has half-day kindergarten. Maybe that I could do. I know I should. I know he should be able to run around with other kids, who don’t know how to fileld-strip the Browning. Well, Dean doesn’t either, yet. But he’s learning. He’s got a talent for guns. I can see it already. And he’ll need it. 

I was a homeschooled kid myself, but the fact that John kept Dean isolated and out of academic environments in order to protect him strikes me as paranoid and controlling, as well as bad for Dean’s psyche.  

He’s also been using guns at around five years old.  I’m not even against guns, but that’s just messed up.

  • Dean turns twenty today. He’s in Ohio somewhere, hasn’t called in a couple of days. Tracking a possible poltergeist. He’s supposed to call in every night. Mission discipline is critical. 
  • Sammy is eighteen years old today. Surprised he didn’t take off. We’re not getting along too well. He hunts when we need him to, but he’s never committed himself the way Dean did. Dean’s never known any other way to live, or if he has, he doesn’t act like it. He’s playing the role he was born to play. Sammy’s the younger brother. He doesn’t know what his role is, even though I can tell him until I’m blue in the face and we’re both ready to kill each other. He’s got one more year of school and then I’m drafting him full-time into the family business. I’ve given him more slack than I ever gave Dean, more than I would have ever gotten from my dad. He needed it. Now he’s a grown man, or almost. Time for him to step into what’s expected of him. Dean never even thought about college. We used to joke about it once in a while. But Sammy still believes he can have a normal life, but they’re both more useful to the world as hunters than … what, lawyers? Dentists? Sammy’s convinced himself that smart kids have to go to college. Part of my job is to convince him that college would be a waste of his smarts. And I gotta hand it to him on the brains front: there’s nothing he can’t find on the computer. I still dig around in actual books, libraries, newspapers. It’s all keystrokes and search words for Sammy. He’s done a good job hiding our trail on all the credit cards. 

John never leaves an option for Sam or Dean to be anything other than “what’s expected of them.”  He never asks them what they want to do with their life, or considers their opinions valid.  

This is one of the later entries, so it’s clear John has had a long time to settle himself into his extremist way of thinking, but it’s still disturbing and sad.

  • Sam graduated. He didn’t go to the ceremony. I think he’s still carrying a grudge that it took him an extra year. What do you want me to do, Sammy? Should we have stayed in Lawrence while whatever killed your mother came back for you? Should we have sat around fat, dumb, and happy even though war had been declared? How long would we have lasted that way? 
  • Sam left. I told him that if he was going, it was permanent. I meant it. 

  • Dean turns twenty-four today. I was twenty-four when I married his mother. Sorry, kid. Every boy has to cut the apron strings sometime, and for you it’s not going to be until we kill off a supernatural entity that seriously needs killing. Then we’ll all be free of your mother’s ghost. We’ll be able to live normal lives. But maybe not. Maybe we’ve all been hunters too long now. 

It’s clear that John didn’t consider his children autonomous adults, and expected them to blindly obey his authority.  He also considers them complicit in his “war,” even though they were both very small children at the time.


In closing, it’s clear from the other entries that John loves his boys.  But as I’ve pointed out before, you can love someone and still be thoroughly toxic, abusive, and bad for them.  John’s parenting and projection onto Dean is probably the reason why he’s so uncomfortable with his own femininity (and ~possible~ bisexuality), and why he feels so continuously obligated to prove himself as a Scam Artist and Ladies’ Man™.  

Even Sam, heartbreakingly, has finally internalized the message that he can never be anything other than a hunter, when he clearly at one point wanted to do otherwise.  

So while John could, and did, have a lot of redeeming qualities, and wound up sacrificing himself for his son’s benefit, I hope this will lay to rest the debate about whether or not he was a good father.