i laugh that hard at least once a day since i met you

You Look Like You Need a Drink (M)

Originally posted by hidden--demons

Summary: After a bad week with the worst luck imaginable, you happen upon a local dive bar run by an attractive young bartender who livens up your evening.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 7,221

Warning: Bartender!Yoongi, tattooed!Yoongi, sexual harassment, sexual themes, power play, manners kink, alcohol use, profanity

A/N: I wrote this last year for my dear friend’s birthday and swore this fic would never see the light of day. I have since “remastered” it, so to speak, so I’m sharing it here. SURPRISE!

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Foreign

Plot: Jimin always thought his traditional Korean girlfriend was perfect – that was, until he realized how beautiful foreigners could be.

Pairing: Idol!Park Jimin x Backup Dancer!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Notes: I based this off of every single MTL I have seen of BTS dating a girl of a different race or a girl of color – Jimin always seems to be one of the people who were least likely to date one. I definitely do not think that Jimin is this ignorant in any way. This is only a work of fiction. This is for all the international beauties! 2,536 Words

Originally posted by bwipsul

“Oppa, I’m missing you so much!”

“I’m missing you too, my love. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a few days, okay?”

One of the worst parts about tour was leaving lovers behind. For Jimin, it wasn’t only his lover, it was his home. He enjoyed tour, performing for all of the ARMYs around the world, going on stage; but he wasn’t a huge fan of being in a foreign country. He didn’t know English that well, and he wasn’t fond of being in a place where he couldn’t understand anything. 

“I know,” The soft voice of his significant other brought pink to his cheeks. “Call me when your rehearsal is over.”

“I will, I love you,” He glanced at the leader of his band, who was calling him over.

“I love you too.”

With that, he had ended the call with a sigh, and headed over to his band. It hadn’t even been a few minutes since he cut the call, and he was already missing her – a thought he had experienced after each long-distance conversation with his lover. The short male shook his head and got his head back in the game, his eyes going up to meet a group of people dressed in black.

“This is your dance crew for this city,” The manager announced to the band. “Not all of them know Korean, so if you have an queries, just talk to Jihoon. He is the leader.”

“We understand.”

Once that brief introduction was done, they were all left to their own devices for a few minutes, whilst the leader of the dance team talked to the leader of the band. Jimin had let himself scan over the people he would be working with; not that he would talk to them, he was just curious and bored. Most of them had masks on – no one had really caught his eyes, except for one person. 

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You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt: Part 2

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio


Growing up, people told Y/n that you could die from a broken heart—that the stress on your heart strings could weaken, and all that’s left is the pain in your chest.

Y/n thought her heart would fail her, rupture all that’s left of her and leave her body to decompose. She believed that, if her broken heart wasn’t going to kill her, loneliness and lack of sleep would push her towards her end.

Moving on—something that seemed so simple yet so impossible for Y/n to do.

When the hurt in her chest and the hallucinations from exhaustion started to become too much for her to handle, she was willing to do anything to help herself. She started taking up yoga sessions, started writing music, even started cooking in an attempt to bring herself back from whatever hell she was in.

She even considered moving on; meeting a man at a bar and getting to know more about him rather than his drink order. But something seemed so wrong about that—something was unsettled inside of her at the thought of being with someone who wasn’t Harry.

The image of Jessica in Harry and Y/n’s t-shirt was enough to haunt her nearly every hour of the day. She started going mental, constantly wondering what they were doing together in the moments she was most vulnerable. She wondered about their love life, their future, their interests. She thought about everything.

It wasn’t until Gabby was determined to mend the broken girl raiding her house, finding any possible excuse to give her a sense of life again, that Y/n found the slightest bit of hope.

Y/n was losing it, entirely, and Gabby refused to continue being a bystander.

Gabby had set Y/n up on a blind date only a couple weeks back, practically begging her to seize every opportunity she possibly can to get over Harry. It was all Gabby could do to help her, considering nothing quite helped Y/n’s well-being since the breakup.


“Oh, he’s just so perfect!” Gabby squealed, clapping her hands before gripping tightly around Y/n’s wrists in excitement. “He’s gorgeous! Amazing blue eyes—breathtaking, really! And he’s so sweet, Y/n! I haven’t met a single person who’s disliked him and he’s such an amazing photographer! And his teeth! His teeth are marvelous! Do you know how hard it is nowadays to find a man with nice teeth? I mean—“

By then, Y/n had dozed off, and it wasn’t for any personal reason against Gabby; she’s appreciated every bit of hard work to help her through the heartbreak Y/n’s been dealing with nearly half of a year now. It’s just that she wasn’t ready to move on, not that she didn’t want to.

It had been nearly five months, which may seem like such an abundance of time to rid feelings for somebody, but did time really help moving on from someone she’d planned to spend the rest of her life with? It seemed nearly impossible. She could barely see herself looking at other men in a romantic sense, how could she see herself going on a date with somebody? Especially when she was still in love with somebody else?

She was biting the bullet with letting time heal her, but she felt that was the only way. Nothing more could help her. If anything, she believed dating would make it worse, if she were being honest.

But the look of excitement Gabby had at the mere thought of Y/n being happy again was something Y/n found nearly impossible to resist. Besides, she had definitely been overstaying her welcome at Gabby’s house no matter how much Gabby’s tried to deny it and has put so much stress onto her that maybe, just maybe, doing this one favor for all that she’s done for her.

“So, what do you say?”

Y/n blinked harshly when Gabby’s voice drowned out all the scrambled thoughts in her head, shaking her head slightly to regain her understanding of reality.

“What?”

“Monmouth Coffee Shop at noon tomorrow. Dan really wants to meet you, Y/n! Please!”

Y/n’s eyes widened, snapping her head up to meet Gabby’s hopeful eyes.

“The Monmouth?! Are you crazy?! That’s Harry’s favorite coffee shop, you know that! Dan and Harry probably know each other, that’s how much he goes there!”

Gabby’s eyes narrowed as her lips pursed, gaze directing toward the ceiling in thought.

“Harry? Harry who? I don’t remember who that is, never heard that name in my life.”

Her tone reeked with sarcasm, which made Y/n’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. As much as she wished Gabby’s negative remarks about Harry were comedic, there was always something about them that infuriated her. She always supposed it was the instinctual aspect of loving someone so much.

Gabby sighed as she reached her hand up to rub Y/n’s shoulder gently.

“Look,” she began, “you’re my best friend and I hate seeing you like this. You’re not the same Y/n I always knew, and I think you see yourself that way, too. And in all honesty, I don’t give a fuck about Harry anymore. As sadistic and twisted as it sounds, I don’t care about his emotions, or how he feels. He did this to you. He killed a part of you and I feel it’s my obligation to help you through this. So, please, go out with Dan tomorrow. He works at Monmouth, he’ll meet you before his shift starts at 1:30.”

Gabby’s arm slid off of Y/n’s shoulder at the shadow of uncertainty behind her eyes. Even though Gabby understood all the pain and hesitation, she didn’t want to see Y/n suffer another day. She just couldn’t.

“Please,” she whimpered, “Dan has been the only sense of hope I’ve gotten to make you happy again. Just do this one thing, please? And if it doesn’t work, then you can blame me. I’m just trying here.”

Y/n coughed slightly, her inability to say no wearing off of her at Gabby’s desperate pleads. It was an opportunity to turn things back around in her life, and if it didn’t go as planned, she really didn’t have anything more to lose.

She nods her head softly.

“Yeah—yeah, okay. I’ll meet him.”

Maybe this would be good for her.


Dan is lovely, always caring for Y/n and making sure she feels like loyalty whenever she’s around. He puts her first, in everything, and made a rule that the date can’t end until I hear you laugh at least six times.

It’s cute, really, how effortless he is at giving someone so much attention. Y/n likes it—loves it, even, but it still never feels right to her. She sees something with him, but nothing long term, not in the way she sees Harry.

But he’s good for her now, when she’s at her worst and needs someone to be there for her. He’s able to provide her with the company she desperately needs in order to cure the possible fatalities that came with her broken heart.

“Thank you for the coffee, it was great.” Y/n smiles softly, her cheeks blushing slightly as she traces the rim of her coffee cup.

It’s nearly their tenth date, and they still meet at the Monmouth at noon before his shift. It’s become a routine for them, meeting together at noon before Dan drops her off at the parking station. It became something they both looked forward to throughout their week, and soon became more of a tradition between them.

Dan grins, almost instinctively wrapping his arms around Y/n’s shoulders so that her head makes rest on his chest. He sighs, pressing a small kiss to the top of her head before resting his chin where his lips once were.

“Of course. I’ll be getting out at around 6 o‘clock so maybe I can stop by for a few? Maybe watch a movie?”

He knows the answer before she says it—his constant attempts to get closer to her always seeming to fail. There’s always a hesitation, or always an excuse to prevent them from being alone together.

He’s well aware that there are parts of her that need to be fixed, still being completely destructed by her ex-lover. He’s tried tirelessly to get her to open up and to trust him, but there’s a thick barrier still in their way of each other. It disheartens him, to know she refuses to let him in.

She sighs, guilt evident in her breath as she softly pushes away from him.

She does that often, he’s noticed it.

She feels horrible for doing so every time. Everything between them has remained stagnant, nothing being built so that nothing could be knocked down. It’s not that Y/n doesn’t trust him, it’s that Y/n doesn’t trust herself. She’s still in love with someone else, and she can’t hurt Dan—not in that way.

“I think I’m just going to—“

“Yeah, I know.” Dan nods, arms moving to cross at his chest, “I get it. Just like every other time.”

Y/n reaches her shaking fingers to brush her hair behind her ear, guilt flashing in her eyes as she refuses to meet his gaze. She’s familiar with the look he has on his face well enough to know he’s upset again, being constantly shut down by her.

“I’m so sorry, Dan.” She whispers, “But I’m trying. I want to keep trying with you. If you let me.”

He looks unconvinced, as he’s been hearing this for a while now. But something inside of him can’t quit her, no matter how much his intuition tells him she’s a dead end. Maybe he feels sorry for her on a level he’s never felt sorrow for somebody else. No matter how much she hides it, she really does need him. Not in a romantic level, but she does need him to show her that he cares for her and that he’ll always be there. She needs that sense of security, and he’s the only one that can provide it for her.

“Yeah,” he nods, “we can keep trying. It’s okay, I’m here for you.“


Harry had been living in his studio for the past couple of weeks. It certainly wasn’t ideal, but it was much better than sleeping on his and Y/n’s bed—alone.

That’s all he’s felt since their break up—lonely. It’s quite strange, considering Harry had millions of supporters, an entire band throughout his solo career, and producers around him nearly every hour of the day. He used to complain that he never had alone time anymore, that between all the constant traveling and being at the peak of his career, it was hard to find time for himself.

But now, in the midst of everything happening in his life, he wishes to feel that sort of hustle again.

Y/n was the person that kept him grounded through everything. She was the one consistency in his life, which gave him all the more reasons to love her. Whenever he was overwhelmed with the pressure put on him, or feeling homesick during his travels, she was always the one to keep him at bay and give him a sense of clarity.

Home hadn’t become a house, instead, Y/n’s heart. Wherever she was, he felt at home. Even when she was half way across the world, it was her voice that brought him back and reminded him that, no matter how much he missed the walls of familiarity, home was always a phone call away. She gave him that sense of comfort everywhere she went, it was truly amazing.

And when he broke up with Y/n, he didn’t think of how much everything around him would be affected. He thought time would do them best—would help mend the relationship that seemed to be collapsing beneath their feet. Their connections were lost, replaces by uncomfortable silences and unbarring arguments.

He didn’t think of the consequences when he did it. He didn’t think about how lost he’d become, or how he had no place to call home, or how there was no consistency in his life anymore. There were so many aspects of his life that Y/n had given him—so much of them that he didn’t realize until she moved out.

It was the exact reason he started dating Jessica. She was a great distraction, a beautiful woman to take his mind off of everything.

They weren’t much of anything. Nothing about them was exclusive besides what the media saw of them: boyfriend and girlfriend moving in together in London. It was far from the truth, really. He was with her to terminate his dry spell and rid his loneliness, and she was with him because he infatuated her.

He ended it all, though, that same morning Y/n found Jessica wearing their shirt. The entire incident gave him a realization; that nobody could fill his void like Y/n did.

The fear of losing her forever and making her believe he was in love with somebody else was enough to break him out of his selfish ways. She had been waiting for him for months, and when he returned, he wasn’t the same man he was.

Not only did Harry know that Y/n lost all her faith in him—he lost all faith in himself, as well.


“I’m so screwed, Nick. I fucked up everything. Everything.”

Harry was laying with his back flat against the studio couch, hands rubbing down his face as he tried to steady his harsh breathing.

It was just after he had run into Y/n at the grocery store, where she had seen Jessica wearing Harry and Y/n’s t-shirt. Although he was practically mute during the encounter, everything hit him at once after Y/n and Gabby walked out.

He called Nick in a hurry, incoherent and completely disoriented from the tears he’d broken down into. Everything he thought would be mended completely fell down on them—all because of him.

“Jessica was wearing the shirt with the—fuck, you know the shirt, and Y/n saw and she was such a mess, Nick. I didn’t even say anything to her, she was practically begging me to say something and I didn’t say a word.”

Nick sat cross-armed on one of the chairs, directly across from Harry. He wished he could have felt remorse seeing Harry in such distress, however, he never agreed with Harry’s actions and made it clear numerous times. In his eyes, this was karma’s ticking time bomb.

“You tend to be a real jackass sometimes, you know that?”

Harry lifted himself up so that he could sit properly. His body slumped against the back of the couch, head rested in his palm as he coughed uncomfortably at Nick’s choice of words.

“You let go of the best thing that’s ever happened to you and then you just move on, as if she meant nothing, and you think you just fucked it all up now? Over the goddamn t-shirt?”

Harry scowled at him.

“I haven’t moved on, and it’s more than just a t-shirt, you know that. That was ours.” Harry defended, glaring over at his direction.

“So why was Jessica wearing it after you fucked her on the bed you and Y/n shared every night for the past three years?”

Something about Nick’s words gave Harry a foul taste in his mouth. As much as he wished Nick didn’t say it in that way, that’s exactly what Harry did, and knowing he had to live with that for the rest of his life made his stomach flip inside of him.

He really did fuck it up. Nothing he did was excusable, nothing he did was forgivable. He betrayed the one woman he loved so dearly—the one woman he’d always consider his soulmate. He really, really fucked it up.

He gulped as he tried to find words to justify himself. There was really nothing he could say.

“She—she had just put it on while I was sleeping and when—when I noticed she just wouldn’t shut up about breakfast and I couldn’t just be like ‘Hey, Jess, could you take off that shirt? That belonged to me and my ex-girlfriend and I don’t appreciate it?’ How could I do that?”

He sighed, leaning his face into the palm of his hands as he looked back onto his experiences with Jessica. Was it all worth it? Was she really worth all of this?

“She means nothing to me, Nick. I lost the girl I love for somebody who doesn’t mean anything to me.” He whispered, “How do I live knowing that?”


It’s nearly two in the afternoon when Harry finally decides to leave his studio. He’s been working on some songs he found himself writing during his free time, something he found therapeutic throughout the past couple of months.

Recording and writing have become the only distractions that seem to work for Harry. Everything else became temporary. Writing out his emotions and singing the words he wishes he could say has been the only sense of closure he’s had in a while.

“Dan! Long time no see!” Harry smiles when he enters Monmouth, a familiar face being something he finds so relieving.

Dan looks up from his register, reaching over the counter to give Harry a hug as he greets him enthusiastically.

“Haven’t seen you in quite a while. On your lunch break?”

Harry nods as his eyes squint, reaching for the back of his neck as he reads over the menu.

“Yeah, kind of in a hurry today if you don’t mind. Can I just get a medium coffee with almond milk, please? And a slice of apple pie, feeling kind of brisk today.”

Dan works his fingers across the cash register, yelling out his order to the barista before making small talk about the weather. Considering Harry hasn’t been seen in Monmouth nearly as much as he used to, they both found it nice to catch up with each other for the short while they’ve been distanced.

When Dan reaches over to give Harry his spare change, an all too familiar silver ring catches his attention immediately. At first glance, he swears his heart stopped beating.

There’s no way, there’s just no way that could be the ring Harry gave to Y/n. Dan and Y/n have never met before, considering she had only visited here a handful of times during Harry’s lunch break. And even then, she would just stand patiently by the door while Harry waited to retrieve his order.

There’s just no way, but the top of the rose has a particular rust on it that resembles Harry’s perfectly—and no matter how long it’s been since he’s seen it, he’ll never forget what it looks like.

Harry’s hand grips onto Dan’s wrist instead of reaching out to grab the spare change laying upon his palm, flipping over his hand to inspect the silver ring snug almost too perfectly around his finger. He’s aggressive, movements harsh and face tight with anger, but at this point in time, the last thing Harry’s worried about is Dan’s slightly intimidated composure.

“Where did you get this?”

Unlike his demeanor, his voice is soft and breaking between each word. There’s an unrecognizable shift in his eyes when he sees the wear and tear Harry knows he caused before gifting it to Y/n. This is most definitely his, and knowing Y/n was the one who gave it to him makes him nearly throw up all the contents in his stomach.

“Girlfriend gave it to me,” Dan smiles “well, not really my girlfriend yet. But you know how they are. I told her I liked it and she insisted I have it.”

Harry swallows the lump in his throat, making him nearly whimper when he opens his mouth to speak.

He’s never felt so much pain before. The breaking that was once only in his heart spread like wildfire across every bone and ligament in his body. It burns, the sudden realization that Y/n has a boyfriend, that Y/n is no longer going to be there—waiting for him—the way he always expected her to be, that Y/n has taken it upon herself to seek revenge on him so that he can feel everything she felt that one Sunday morning at the grocery store.

And it’s then he realizes that this is nothing compared to everything he’s put her through. In his favor, this is just a stupid ring her gave her for her birthday because he loved the way she twisted it around his finger. It didn’t have much value between them, just something small they shared. He couldn’t imagine the hurt he would have now, standing her, if Dan were wearing their Lover t-shirt.

“Wh—What’s her name?”

His voice is in a whisper now, only the slightest bit of hope draining from his body when he hears Dan speak again.

“Y/n. She’s a good girl, you’d like her.”

Harry almost laughs. You’d like her. He has no idea, he’s in love with her.

It’s as if every part of Harry’s body begins to shut down. Maybe it’s from the shock, or the overbearing pain he feels in his chest, but he suddenly begins to feel lightheaded. His muscles turn numb and all his orientation seems to scramble as if he’s intoxicated.

Dan’s eyes narrow when he sees all the color drain from his face, his eyes widened and soaked with tears. He watches as he nearly falls backward, only to balance himself with his foot when he takes a proper step away from the counter.

“Harry? Harry, you alright?”

Never fucking say my name again is the first proper thought that his brain can register. But his throat is tight and his tongue is numb. He attempts to take a breath of air, but he feels like his lungs are collapsing in his chest, preventing him from doing anything besides stumble uncoordinatedly out of the Monmouth doors.

He’s falling apart—that’s exactly what it feels like. He feels like every limb is falling from his body as he walks towards his car. He doesn’t know exactly how he’s moving, even if he’s stumbling on his own two feet and colliding into stranger’s bodies as he does so, he doesn’t understand how his body finds the strength to keep moving.

Y/n moved on. Y/n’s dating Dan. Y/n gave his ring to him. It’s all over, everything is over.

“No” he mumbles frantically, jealously flowing in his veins, chest heaving from the sobs that are threatening to spill out of him, “no, no no no.”

He starts to wonder where he’s missed it, and exactly how long it’s been since Y/n moved on. She was so broken at the grocery store the other week; what could have possibly altered her feelings that quickly? Did Dan really impact her that much?

But that’s his girl. Y/n is his girl, she’s the one he was so sure he was going to spend the rest of his life with. Even with Jessica, even with everything that’s happened, Y/n is his soulmate, and there isn’t anything in the world that can convince him otherwise.

Nobody is going to take her from him. He refuses to believe she belongs to somebody that isn’t him; there isn’t an atom in his body that doubts their companionship.

Before he thinks twice—before he really gives himself a chance to stop himself—Harry slides his cell phone out of his back pocket once he reaches his car. He slumps against the hood as his fingers work furiously across his screen.

There has to be something, at least some sort of proof that this is really happening to him, that this isn’t in a nightmare he can easily wake himself out of. There had to have been a hint, a warning for him to have. She would have never moved on without saying something to him. They were so strong together, she would have never left without closure.

Nothing about it makes sense.

And then, he sees it.

He falls to his knees, hitting the concrete harshly below him. His body gave out from beneath him, his muscles and bones failing him.

It’s there, right in front of him, mocking him and all the shitty decisions he’s made. It’s there—on Y/n’s private Instagram page—a picture of Dan holding Y/n’s hand on top of a table in Monmouth, Harry’s ring wrapped perfectly around his pointer finger.

Steele rose has never looked so good xx.

EVAK FANFICS RECS / PART 9

ONESHOTS:

  • Please Know That I’m Yours to Keep by pressurerin
    Summary: hogwarts!au; “Remember how I was making amortentia for my final potions project? Well, Isak ate some. And now…” Even gestured towards the way Isak was currently trying to lick his neck. OR; Even accidentally gives Isak a love potion.

  • I Guess I’m Floating by overestless
    Summary: Living with Isak causes Even to discover some of his habits.

  • all things soft and beautiful and bright by anathema (azirapha1e)
    Summary: Isak should’ve known it was a bad idea from the second he saw the Pinterest recipe, but - Well. He’s never claimed to be any good at saying no to Even.

MORE UNDER THE CUT

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Blue Skies and Possibilities (Lin/Reader Soulmate AU)

Summary: In a world where you can only see color once you make physical contact with your soulmate, you’re keeping your hands to yourself. Fate has other plans.

Word Count: 8642

Note: Thank you to @the-real-tony-stank for reading this ahead of time and being so sweet and to @thatoneimaginesblog for giving me a cute idea that pops up in here and putting up with a lot of Lin pictures while this got written.


You were in the forest again.

There was light streaming through the trees, and the vivid color of the leaves told you that you were dreaming. You felt a flutter in your stomach and smiled to yourself. If there was color, that meant he would be here. You let your instincts take over and walked swiftly in the direction the creek you’d visited so many times before.

There he was, just like you knew he’d be. He turned to you with a boyish smile on his face and you felt like you had just gotten home after a long trip away. You didn’t have a name to attach to the color of his eyes, but you knew they were deep and familiar. He held out a hand to you and you grabbed it, never knowing how much time you’d have here. Tonight was a lucky one. You spent what felt like an entire summer in the woods, neither of you speaking but somehow communicating anyway.

When you heard a buzzing in the distance, you knew your time was up. You held tight to his hand, but the world around you faded anyway. The feeling of his fingers laced with yours was the last thing to slip away.

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→ Paper Doll (pt. 2)

Originally posted by jengkook

pairing → Jungkook x Reader

genre → idol+singer-songwriter!au, drama, slight angst, smut

 warning  sex, language

word count   → 4.7k

 summary   → When the nation’s little sister, IU, gets into a huge scandal, your agency seizes the opportunity to thrust you into that now vacant spotlight. Your self-composed song Paper Doll becomes an overnight sensation, and soon people are itching to find out who was the one who broke your heart. All hell breaks loose once netizens discover that you used to date popular idol, Jeon Jungkook. Little do they know that it wasn’t him who left the relationship unscathed –  it was you.

↳ alternatively: a story on the consequences of a hit break-up song

i | ii 

 a/n  → i haven’t even been on tumblr for a week and askdjjj I can’t believe how many people liked pt. i –  also, I know absolutely nothing about songwriting or music theory, or anything really, so this is me bullshitting my way through 4k words that i haven’t proofread



You associated every song of yours to a specific time and place.

The whimsical cluster chords that opened up Blue Afternoon made you think of the view from your window last spring. Looking down on the busy streets of Seoul from your flat, a crowding of umbrellas had danced to the sound of heavy rain, and you had been immediately struck with a melody line.

That was your favorite part of songwriting – that moment when you finally had something, after having absolutely nothing.

Ironically enough, out of all the songs on your album, you disliked Paper Doll the most.

Even before it had been propelled to the top of the music charts, the song had never been a favorite. The melody line was catchy but predictable, with the most common chord progressions and an overproduced chorus. The people reviewing your songs during the album production had all loved it, however, and they had adamantly decided to push it as a title track.

It was amusing how people presumed the song described a devastating heartbreak between you and your first love. They weren’t exactly wrong, but their interpretation was completely off. Still, you weren’t stupid enough to disapprove their theories. If they wanted to believe that your first boyfriend was a heartless playboy, then that wasn’t your problem.

At least you had never thought it would have to be a problem.

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ardently

@prettychritty requested: Can I please get a fluffy soulmate au with got7 Jackson, like where their soulmate’s first word is written on their wrist? And he’s an idol and you’re a fan and you guys meet at a fanmeet? Sorry if it seems confusing 😅 Thank you 💕

ardently, adjective

having, expressive of, or characterized by intense feeling; passionate; fervent: ardent love.

Pairing: Jackson Wang x Reader

Genre: Fluff + Soulmate AU

Word Count: 2.42k

Authors Note: I have no idea how this is gonna be, but i hope you like it lmao… i really hope i made it so fluffy that you feel like cringing but still enjoy it o’ dearest one, please enjoy it.

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anonymous asked:

Prison AU: inmate dan becomes officer Phil's personal fuck toy at the prison.

Warning!! Smut: Inmate! Dan, guard! Phil, dom! Phil, sub! Dan, degradation, feminization, spanking, choking, daddy kink, hand jobs, blow jobs, closet sex, etc etc.


~Dan was told many things whenever he was first put into prison. He was told he would lose weight, eat less, exercise more, have to fight more, cigarettes were considered currency, all the usual stuff you’d be told before going to prison. No one, however, told him one thing in particular: That he would be a prison bitch.

~Dan had always known he was gay on some level, and didn’t much care for the idea of unconsented sexual relationships in prison, which he had also been warned about beforehand. But he wasn’t just a prison bitch to another prisoner, no of course not, a guard had claimed him.

~Phil Lester was a well respected officer, he had been working here for a few years and everyone was proud of him for his years of diligent hard work. He was a man of secrecy though, kept to himself most often, about many things, including his love life. Many of his coworkers had in the past asked him about his love life, but he never spoke about it. Again, being a man of secrecy, his love life fell under that veil.

~Dan had met Phil during his first year in. He knew who he was from the moment he saw him, the blue eyes strikingly familiar in a way that made his stomach knot up with old feeling swelling up. They had been together in high school, breaking up just before graduation due to having different career path choices, and different college choices. So they had decided it best for their relationship to just break up before making things too complicated.

~Phil was doing rounds, bunk checks were regular after an incident that happened a few weeks past. He looked through each bunk thoroughly, walking through the narrow hall and going into each one to check individually. He slowly walked in bunk 13, meeting his eyes with a pair of familiar brown eyes he hadn’t seen since he spent two years looking into them daily. Dan Howell.

~Phil smirked, deciding to play fun at their chance to catch up. “Inmate. What are you in for?” He asked, leaning on the cement frame of the small room and looking around to make sure no one noticed them before meeting his eyes back with Dan’s. “Vandalism. Mom had some asshole boyfriend start beating her, I destroyed his house, car, work area, everywhere I could. I wanted to destroy him like he had been destroying mom.”  

~Phil chuckled quietly, smiling fondly. “So. You still the same old mama’s boy I see.” He smirked. Dan scoffed softly, rolling his eyes and crossing his legs on his mattress, looking up at Phil with a grin. “Shut up.” He hummed. “I got three years for it too. In my opinion, totally worth it.”

~Phil nodded, looking around as the rest of the prisoners moved to the lunch area. No one would mind if he held Dan up, after all, he was an officer, he could do as he liked to the prisoners pretty much. He walked over and sat by him, smiling. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

~Dan chuckled softly and nodded, looking at him. “Yeah. I haven’t seen you since you tore my heart out and stomped on it.” He murmured a little. “Seriously? Dan we aren’t 17 anymore you cannot still be brooding over me leaving you. I was going to a school 4 hours away from you. It would have been too hard!” He sighed, placing a hand on Dan’s thigh. “You know I loved you. I cried the whole time because I didn’t wanna leave. I loved you too much.”

~Dan sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back. “You shouldn’t touch me. Even talking to me so intimately could cost you your job.” He sighed again, his tone a little sad. “I got suspended for you four times in a year, lost two jobs over you, and gotten a teacher fired for you just because my dad is a lawyer. Danny, as it was before, it’d be worth it to lose a job over you.”

~Dan smiled softly, his dimple popping out and a light blush spreading across his cheeks. “I haven’t been called Danny in a  very long time. Especially not by a guy so cute.” He hummed, swaying a little from side to side and nudging Phil.

~Phil chuckled softly, glancing around again just for safety before leaning in and pecking Dan’s cheek. “I’ve missed you. And you’re flirting.” He smiled. “Oh the flirting can get much worse. Have I ever said how much I love a man in uniform? Although, looking good in the uniform isn’t the challenge. Looking good with it off is. And I can guarantee you look damn good with it off.” He smiled bashfully at his own flirting, leaning his head on Phil’s shoulder.

~Phil laughed quietly, shaking his head and kissing his hair softly. “Why does this feel so familiar? I feel like I’m 17 again and my boyfriend is trying to get into my pants after homecoming.” He laughed.

~Dan smiled sweetly. “It does feel familiar doesn’t it?” He agreed, feeling Phil’s fingers lace with his own. “Even after all these years when you touch me I get butterflies…” He smiled, nuzzling his neck a little. “That your way of telling me you got a boner or something?” Phil snickered, feeling Dan shove him over, his laugh ringing in his ears.

~Phil smiled in adoration as they calmed down from their mutual laughter, letting Dan settle back against him before taking his hand in his own once more. “You know, orange really isn’t your color.” He commented. “And what do you suppose I do about it? It’s the only attire I’ll be allowed to wear for the next few years.” He chuckled, this time a bit sadly.

~Phil smirked again, squeezing his hand. “You could just take it off sometimes. Preferably when you’re with me.” He suggested, only half kidding. “You just miss my ass don’t you?” Dan smirked back, going along with his flirting. “Oh fuck yes I did.” Phil laughed, almost snorting. “I have to admit, it to this day is the best ass I’ve ever gotten. Probably because I love the person attached to it so much..” He smiled.

~Dan flushed pink, giggling quietly and looking up at him, moving into his lap and starting to play with his hair. “I never really got over you either, as cheesey as it may sound.” He bit his lip, and Phil felt the same butterflies in his stomach he got the day he had first kissed Dan. He was so pretty, he hadn’t aged a day. Granted it had only been a few years, but still. He was just as breathtaking a sPhil remembered him to be.

~Phil smiled at him, his hopes raising. He knew he couldn’t make a relationship with Dan again, not with him being in prison and all. But he could, at the very least, get to know him again. “Yeah?” He asked, seeing Dan nod. “Yeah..” He said.

~They were dangerously close, close enough that Phil could lean in not even an inch and close the gap between them with ease. His hands shook, he could get fired and he did love this job, he didn’t want to get fired by any means. But the way Dan looked, his hair curly and longer than it used to be, his big brown doe eyes burning into him, his lips soft and pink, the bottom caught between his teeth; he was down right irresistible, and so, on impulse, he leaned in and kissed Dan with all the passion, lust, and love he had harbored for him all these years.

~Dan kissed back with the same ferocity, lips and tongue and teeth clashing in a messy, heated kiss. His eyes were practically rolling to the back of his head, his fingers tugging at Phil’s hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer.

~Phil noticed his hands starting to wander, unable to care, gripping the ass he has been still getting off to to this day. He slid his tongue along Dan’s, exploring his mouth as if he never had before, trailing over to kiss his jawline and his neck.

~Dan leaned to the side, his eyes fluttering shut and a soft moan escaping his lips. “You’re neck is still such a fucking g-spot for you huh baby boy?” He purred, nipping and sucking, but not leaving marks. Dan was letting out soft moans, the room quiet all except for Dan’s panting  and breathy moaning. “Please..” He begged quietly, desperate to be silent but knowing it was going to be nearly impossible, especially for him.

~Phil smirked against his pale skin, dragging his teeth over a vein in his neck and chuckling. “You gonna beg me baby? Beg for my cock like the slut you always are for me?” He asked, starting to unbutton Dan’s jumpsuit. Sure, they could be caught, sure this was wrong, sure this could cost him his job; But looking at Dan, his shirt halfway undone, his cock straining against his slightly chubby stomach, his eyes shut and moans slipping past his lips, Phil was reminded of just how much he didn’t care.

~Phil caught his lips for another rough kiss, slipping his hand down to grip Dan’s cock, stroking slowly. Dan nipped Phil’s bottom lip, tugging softly before moaning again, thankful everyone was at lunch and no one was around to hear the whorish noises he was making. “I’m barely even touching you.” Phil smirked. “And you’re already so close aren’t you?” He asked, speeding up his movements, swiping over the head of his cock with his thumb and collecting the beading precum.

~Dan whimpered, nodding half heartedly as he desperately bucked up his hips, trying to get more, Phil’s slow pace so delicious but so damn torturous. “More.” He begged again, leaning his head back and bucking his hips to no avail, Phil holding them down with force. “What do you want baby?” He asked, removing his hand from Dan and hearing him whine loudly at the loss, his hips still bucking up in desperation, trying to get friction to his throbbing cock.

~Dan whined again, finally relenting in understanding that Phil wouldn’t do anymore to him until he begged. And so as many times before, he dropped all pride, and begged like a whore for his rightful owner to fuck him senseless. “Please sir fuck me please! No one can make me cum like you do, please daddy, please I’ll do anything!” Tears fell past his eyes, he was so easy to work up and Phil would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on.

~Phil smirked smugly, nodding and kissing him briefly, slipping a key into his hand. “There’s a closet down the hall. Everyone else will be outside in the yard. I’ll be there in a moment.” He instructed. “I want you naked and stretched by the time I’m in there and if you aren’t? I’ll spank that perfect ass so hard you won’t be able to sit for the next week.” He finished and Dan nodded eagerly, getting up off his lap and dashing down the hall to do as told.

~Phil waited for some time to pass before making his way down to where he knew Dan was at, opening the door and smirking to himself. It was dimly lit, the window on the door covered, but most notable of this all was Dan. Dan who was bent over a small table, three fingers inside himself, stretching himself open and moaning loudly.

~Phil walked over, slapping Dan;s ass hard and making him squeak. “You better shut the fuck up slut. Or everyone in this damn prison is going to hear you acting like a fucking whore for me. Do you want tha Danny? Knowing you I bet you would. Everyone here to know your ass belongs to me, that pretty pink cunt is for me and me only to stretch open and fucking ruin.” he smacked his ass again, gripping the soft skin. “Isn’t that right baby?” He asked.

~Dan only moaned in response, feeling another harsh slap to his ass after he didn’t respond properly. “Fuck! Yes yes you’re right daddy! I want everyone to know I’m yours.” He admitted.

~Phil chuckled, flipping Dan around and pushing him to his knees. “No lube baby. Guess you’ll just have to get my cock wet enough with that beautiful mouth of yours.” He smirked, lifting Dan’s chin to make eye contact.

~Dan nodded, unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans as quick as his fingers would let him. He tugged down his pants, mouthing over him through his boxers slowly. He kept looking up at Phil, wide innocent eyes, as if he was doing nothing arousing whatsoever. Phil groaned quietly, the cold air hitting his hard cock as Dan pulled him free from his boxers.

~Dan slowly licked up the side, putting on a show almost, wanting to do his absolute best, but still be a tease in the process. He swirled his tongue around his tip, wrapping his lips around him and slowly bobbing down. He kept a slow pace, taking Phil into his mouth and swiping his tongue over his slit every time he came back up.

~Phil tangled his fingers into Dan’s hair, pushing him down with force and watching Dan hollowing his cheeks to accommodate him, speeding up his movements. Dan bobbed his head quickly, his tongue working over every inch of his cock, making sure he’d be slicked up enough to fuck him painlessly before Phil pulled him off. He wiped the spit dripping from his mouth, the taste of precum stuck to his tongue in a way that made him even more desperate to be filled up and fucked hard.

~Phil pulled him up by the hair, pushing him over the desk and smacking his ass once more. He slowly rubbed his tip over his slightly gaping hole, pushing in just the tip before pulling out again. “You know the drill, I’m sure..” He smirked.

~Dan whimpered, looking back at him and blinking, his lips parted and his thighs starting to shake, his breathing unsteady. “Daddy please..I love being your toy. Letting you fuck me, mark me, break me, cum deep inside me. Please. Make me yours.” He whined, and that was all it took for Phil to slam in.

~Dan cried out, tears brimming in the corner of his eyes, pain and pleasure, along with his tears, clouding his vision as he looked back at Phil. He rocked his hips back, letting himself adjust but wanting more already. Phil smirked, pulling out and slamming back in not too long after, another loud and whiny moan passing Dan’s parted lips.

~Phil gripped his ass, watching himself slide in and out of the younger male, his hips pushing back against him with each hard thrust. “So good for me baby..” He gripped with both hands, kneading his ass as he sped up his thrusts, steadily slamming into him over and over again, his hips hitting against Dan’s ass with each rough thrust into him.

~Dan was struggling to stay silent, moaning loudly, the whole room smelling of sex, and the only noise to be heard in the whole area his loud, porn star moaning. Phil leaning forward, wrapping his hand around Dan’s throat and choking him. “Shut the fuck up!” He hissed, listening to Dan choke on his own moans, silencing significantly but still sounding beautiful with his symphony of whorish moans.

~Phil kept slamming in, hitting his prostate dead on each time with precision, as if he still knew exactly where to hit to drive Dan wild. “You sound like such a fucking whore all for me baby..” He leaned down to bite his earlobe, smirking. “Letting me fuck your pretty little cunt, making such loud noises for me baby. How did I ever get so lucky?” He praised, listening to Dan have to stifle another loud moan, the pressure on his throat increasing along with his arousal from what Phil was saying.

~Phil tugged down softly at his earlobe, tightening his grip on his throat as he grew closer, the pressure building in his lower stomach. He let go of Dam’s throat, hearing him gasp and moan as he tried to get his breath back. He reached down, wrapping his hand around Dan’s cock tightly and stroking in time with his harsh erratic thrusts.

~Dan cried out, getting louder as the same heat built in his stomach, signifying he was getting closer with every hard thrust against his spot and every harsh tug on his leaking cock. He moaned loudly, hearing Phil let out a soft noise under his breath, coming hard inside of the younger male.

~Phil panted gasping a little as he came hard inside of him, thrusting through his orgasm and feeling Dan tighten around him, the younger male closing his eyes and letting out a long drawn out moan as he came as well, bucking his hips into Phil’s hand to ride out his own orgasm.

~After they had both calmed down they laid against each other, naked and in a small cramped closet, breathing heavy. Eventually they started getting dressed, kissing and saying quick goodbyes since everyone was going to come in soon.

~Dan walked away, a smile on his face and putting his hand in his jumpsuit pockets, feeling a slip of paper in his pocket. He opened it and smiled even wider. “I missed you. Maybe we could do this again sometime?” 


A/N: Alright. I wrote this while my little brothers were all next to me playing video games on my tv. So, I’m going to hell, essentially. I hope you like this! It’s 2.9 k of dirtiness. I’ve been watching OITNB lately so this was written literally bc of that not gonna lie.

Archie Andrews Soulmate!AU

‘Technicolor’

Request: aa can you do a soulmate au with archie wherein all you see is black and white until you touch your soulmate? like he bumps into you in the hallway or something and color just blooms before your eyes?? i dunno of that makes sense or not but your writing it great!! <3

Summary: (a Soulmate!AU) [In a black and white world where you find your soulmate when you touch for the first time. After your skin touches theirs, the two people can see each other in color, later on expanding into seeing the whole world in color.] Y/n has just moved to Riverdale and is starting her first day at Riverdale High. Will today be the day where she’ll find the one she’s been looking for?

Word Count: 1804

a/n: First of all lmao the summary I just wrote for this was so cheesy I apologize. I had fun writing this so I hope you have fun reading it but if not sorry I suck. I’m posting it without editing it so if you see any mistakes I promise I’ll fix them tomorrow I’m just currently being lazy. Don’t forget to request!

 —

You heard it happened to another girl from your old school last week. She’d been visiting family in another town when it happened. You heard it happened like some sort of rom-com. Apparently, she’d dropped her wallet and he’d tapped on her shoulder to return it to her. She turned and saw him, like actually saw him, in color. You’d heard it a billion times. When you touch the right person for the first time, you finally start to see in color. At first, it’s just them you see in color, everything else stays black and white, but after a while you can see everything. Something in you goes right with something in them and the rest is history.

It was hard to even conceptualize. You’d lived your whole life seeing black and white, what did it even mean to see in color. They compared it to The Wizard of Oz, like seeing in Technicolor. Before you touch them is like Dorothy in Kansas, but after was like when she went over the rainbow to Munchkinland. People who could see it had tried to explain it to you many times before, but they always ended up saying it was impossible to explain to someone who couldn’t see it; you’d see one day. But what if you didn’t? There were people who lived their whole lives and dies still seeing black and white. Maybe you would be one of those people.

You felt stupid even thinking about it. You were only in high school after all. There were people who didn’t see their person until they were 30, people who didn’t see their person until they were 60! Why were you so anxious?

You knew you didn’t need another person to survive or anything, you could take care of yourself. It’s just the thought of spending your whole life by yourself sounded pretty unappetizing. Even though so many people hadn’t found their person yet you couldn’t help the feeling like you were late. You knew a couple that had seen each other since second grade. You were patient, but you just wanted to know what you were missing.

Your first day at a new school. You’d moved into your new house in Riverdale a couple days ago, and it seemed like a nice town. All the people you’d met seemed welcoming enough and your room was bigger than in your old house. You hadn’t moved here to find your person or anything, your mom’s job had a great opportunity here for her, but you thought maybe this would be that place where it would happen. You didn’t want to get your hopes up… but what if?

You pulled up into a spot on the far side of the parking lot at Riverdale High. You took a deep breath before ripping the band-aid off and opening the car door, making you way toward the entrance. Various other students were laughing and talking with their friends. To say you were nervous would be to say that Mount Everest was a bit of a hike: a huge understatement. It was the first day back from summer, but you’d never been the new kid before. You didn’t know a soul.

You’d been to the office once before over the weekend to register for classes so you found your way there relatively easily once you got inside. You walked into the bustling office and tried to avoid getting hit by a receptionist who at that speed could have easily passed for a linebacker. You hesitantly approached a woman behind a desk who looked busy, but at least noticeably less busy than everyone else. She was typing up something with a level of ferocity that had to be breaking some sort of record. You waited uncomfortably for her to finish what she was doing and notice you standing in front of her. Was she going to finish?

After half a minute and a few final loud smacks on her keyboard, she pushed up her glasses and looked up at you with a weary but genuine smile. “Can I help you with something, honey?”

“Oh, yeah,” you said fumbling through the front pocket of your backpack for the right paper. “Here it is.” You slid the paper to her with your name and information they had given you when you’d registered. “I’m new.”

Her eyes scanned the paper and she turned to grab something from behind the desk. She turned back to you and passed a piece of paper to you. “So, this is your schedule. The school is a bit of a maze so let me see if I can find someone…” She looked around the office and her eyes landed on someone. “Aha!” You followed her line of sight and saw a boy with his arms full of books walking toward the door. You strained your neck to see his face but he was turned away.  “Mr. Andrews?!” The boy stopped in his tracks and swiveled around in search for the source of his name. Whoa. The receptionist waved him over and he made his way over to you.

You had tried your whole life not to think about the boys you met too much so you wouldn’t get too attached to them only for them to see someone else. But boy, oh boy, he was kind of a babe.

“Mr. Andrews, she doesn’t know her way around the school yet; Could you show her to her to her first class?”

He glanced quickly at you then back to the receptionist, “Oh, yeah. No problem!”

You smiled graciously at the receptionist and she turned back to her work.

“So we’re going to…” He looked over the schedule and mumbled to himself. “Ah, cool.” He looked up at you and smiled. “That’s not far at all.” You could feel your heart flutter. He started walking down the hall way and you stayed by his side, a couple inches away. “I would shake your hand but I don’t really have a free one at the moment,” he said nodding down to the comically large pile of books he was carrying. “I’m not trying to be rude, I promise.”

“No, don’t even worry about it.” You replied. Secretly though, you were kind of upset you couldn’t shake his hand. You wanted to touch him for a second, just to rule him out as your person. Now you were going to be thinking about him all day.

“So, are you a freshman? Or just new?” he asked while maneuvering through the populated hallway.

“Just new. My mom got a promotion so we moved to Riverdale last week. I’m actually a sophomore.” You explained. You had a feeling you would have to be telling this story pretty frequently in the near future.

“Oh, hey, cool! I’m a sophomore too! Maybe we’ll have classed together and stuff.” He said with a hint of excitement. You didn’t even know why you were getting your hopes up. For all you know he had already seen his person.

“I hope so. So far you’re the only person I’ve met at this school. It would be nice to have a familiar face in a class or two.” You tried to keep the sound of desperation in your voice to a minimum.

He stopped in front of a classroom on the right side of the hallway, “Well, here we are.”

You didn’t want to leave yet, but you knew you had to. “Thank you so much for helping me out, by the way.

He smiled and turned to face you, backing away in the opposite direction “Yeah, maybe I’ll see you around later?” It only hit you then that you didn’t know his first name. And he didn’t know your name either. You opened your mouth to speak, some guy rammed into him, knocking down all his books and making him fall right onto you.

The guy looked at the pile up he’d caused, “Oh, sorry dude,” and walked away.

“I’m so sorry,” he said lifting himself off you and turning to pick up his books without looking at you.

You looked down at your backpack and fixed everything that was misplaced. “It wasn’t your fault,” you comforted without looking up. “It was that stupid guy, he came out of nowhere.”

It was then that you looked up at him, and it happened. You could see him. You, quite literally, could not believe your eyes. You could see the way he really looked, with all the colors that belonged to him. He looked even more beautiful that you had thought. His hair was bright – you didn’t know what everyone else’s hair looked like, or what color to call his, but you knew it was special. You could see the blush in his cheeks as he fumbled with his books, you hadn’t known what blushing really looked like. You could see him, and for now, only him.

He still hadn’t looked up from the books. An overwhelming feeling of fear washed over you. What if he didn’t see you in color back? That happened sometimes. What if it happened to you? You looked at him and you wanted to say something, to ask him, but nothing could come out.

“Hey,” he said, “I just realized that I never got to ask you–” He glanced up and you and back down before he knew what he had seen. He froze, calculating in his head. He slowly turned his head up to face you. He didn’t say anything, he just looked at you and for a while, you just looked back.

You broke the silence, “Can, can you see me? In color?”

He nodded his head yes but remained silent. You could see his eyes scanning all over you, looking like it was the first time he had his eyes, because it kind of was.

With wide eyes he darted his to yours, realizing, “What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t,” you laughed lightly.

“Well can you? Please?” He laughed back.

“It’s Y/n.”

“Y/n,” he said more to himself than to you, like he was feeling how it felt on him. “I’m Archie.”

“It’s a real pleasure to meet you Archie.”

“So… we’re…?”

“I guess so,” You were in as much shock as he was. This was definitely not how you had expected your first day at Riverdale High to start, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

“Do you want to get out of here? We can talk and stuff,” he asked standing up.

“There is nothing more I want in the world.” You reached out your hand and he pulled you up. You walked right out the school and onto the street abandoning all the papers and books. You had more important things to do. You were finally seeing in Technicolor.

Essays in Existentialism: Footy

International Soccer Player Star Lexa au is and forever will be my dream

The heat rolled off of the pavement in the afternoon. Stagnant and ornery, it listlessly bullied everyone in the streets until they were just as uncomfortable and oppressed, just as mad, just as sweaty and tired and beat up like the harsh summer day. The bustle of the street didn’t stop though, despite the heat, despite the heaviness. Instead, people milled about as best the could, fanning themselves with their hands or papers or ducking into stores, eating ice cream, and failing against nature itself.

Keep reading

The Elsewhere Child

He was supposed to take my memories when he brought me here, the seelie knight, who had been commanded to escort me home with a simple “take it away, it’s too old now and it bores me” from the noble who had kept me for the past while. I traded him my singing voice for them though, and now where once sweet music poured from my lips only hoarse and untuned notes fall out without any of the tempo or melody they had before. Now I think I made a bad trade. It might have been better, if I didn’t remember, or remembered something else entirely.

I stare at the boy next to me in the circle, I was asked to join this circle as a way to make me feel part of something, part of a circle. They call the circle a support group for abducted children. Children who were abducted and got away, that is, I don’t think there’s a support group for those currently abducted. Their abductors wouldn’t allow them to attend, I suppose. The boy is speaking about the man who touched him, speaking of the horrible way he loved that man, because he was a child, and he had to love someone. Are his memories true? Or is he like me? Did a faerie take him away, and replace the memories from Under the Hill with these tragedies? Why? Did he commit some crime? I cannot say.

I am fascinated by the girl who sits next to the girl directly across from me in the circle. She tells us to call her Angie. She wears ratty clothes, not the sort of poor chic that seems to be an underlying trend, with jackets made of patches and ribbed cloth sold at malls, but real grunge. The tears in her sleeves reveal razor scars, her hair is short, she wants to look tough, she wants people to cross the street to get away from her when they see her coming. She is not tough. She is nervous, always nervous, always afraid, though she hides it well. None of these things are too interesting to me, those things I can see anywhere, but I thought context would be important so that the fact that she’s a pathological liar would not be the only thing you knew about her.

She is a pathological liar.

Her lies fascinate me.

After group chat, I take her aside and we talk, sometimes just for a few minutes, sometimes for hours, and I watch her fabricate thousands of untruths, from tiny white ones to huge fantastical ones as bright and colorful as her life has never been. Some days, I believe everything she says and some days I question each word, trying to figure out her secret.

It’s a strange thing, I was taken before I really knew my name, and each faerie that’s kept me (I was a pet for them) called me something different. Do I even have a true name? I’ve been Jane Doe since I showed up, stumbling barefoot and confused into a police station moments after midnight (at least the knight knew to leave me near a place of authority), so I’ve been introducing myself as Roe, like the deer. They ran my DNA through the missing children’s database (I didn’t understand what that was at first, was shocked at how closely humans had approximated magic with computers), but there was no match. I told them I didn’t know how long ago I’d been abducted, and suggested that it might have been before the database was made. They laughed and said I was eighteen, and DNA technology had been around much longer than me. I tried to explain that time was different where I had been kept, but they simply patted me on my head and told me they were sure that it seemed that way to me at the time.

They stared at me worriedly when one of them brought me a McDonald’s Happy Meal, and I asked what she wanted for it. She told me nothing. No one here ever asks for anything besides courtesy in return for their food, but old habits are hard to break. Even now, in my foster home, I cannot help insisting that my hosts confirm that this food is a gift freely given. They asked me to help them cook and I broke down in tears because there was a cast iron skillet on the stove (“Please don’t make me, iron burns, iron burns, and it gets under your skin and makes you go grey and lifeless like a flower severed from its roots, plea-please, please don’t make me”). It took them an hour to convince me that they weren’t trying to force me to poison myself, and the food burned (“I said I would help you, you asked me to cook and I agreed, but, but please don’t make me, it burns, it’ll burn me!” “It’s alright darling, you don’t have to cook if you don’t want to.” “But I said I would! It was an oath!” “We’re sorry, we wouldn’t have asked if we’d known it would upset you, you can help some other way if you like.” “You… absolve me of my oath?” “Yes, of course we do darling!”).

I am more comfortable with iron now, I am not one of the Fair Folk, after all, it will not harm me. Correction, a blade of iron would harm me, but not because it was made of iron. It does, however, mess with my glamor.

It is a difficult thing, growing up bathed in magic and yet to have none of your own. A pixie once spoke of how she envied my hair, and I said, on impulse, “do you want it?” So a trade was made. She gave me the ability to change my appearance, and she walked away with my hair. I expected my hair to grow back after a time though… it did not. With my glamor I can have the appearance of having whatever hair I please, and sometimes I change it daily, but when I sleep or when iron is near my bare head is revealed. It is assumed by my hosts and everyone around me that I have many wigs, I have told them I do not, but they don’t believe in magic, so they insist on believing this instead.

I hide when I hear thunder, duck into a bathroom and put everything on backward and inside out if I’m in public, or simply sit quiet if I’m home. The first time I did this, it shook me to my core when someone told me “You know, your shirt is on backward.” I started to panic, until I realized that I could see myself too. It was a revelation, discovering that there was something humans could see that the Good Neighbors couldn’t.

It still boggles my mind how much people throw away, tears and menstrual blood caught on napkins, or gifts from that one aunt that they held onto for so long for the sentimental value but can’t keep now because they have to move into a smaller apartment, or the shirt they can’t wear anymore because it smells like their ex. They could trade these items to faeries for so many things, and yet they simply throw them away. What a waste.

My hosts insisted I should have a proper education, and after three years of homeschooling (to get me caught up) I applied to attend the local state college. There I found more people who fascinate me the way Angie does. There’s Lisa, who fights for animal rights, and Kyle, the leader of the Gay Straight Alliance group, and Riley, who’s going into the Peace Corps next year because they want to help the world. I ask them all the time why they do what they do, what they expect to get back, and they tell me that ideally they’ll make the world a better place, and that will pay them back eventually, but that they don’t do it for what they’ll get back, they do it because it’s right. I don’t understand. There’s Cheyenne, who always gets into intense political debates with other people over dinner in the cafeteria, and she believes so intensely about things that don’t even affect her, and she fights for them, and she tells me she does this because it’s right, and I don’t understand. I’ve never met anyone who cared about anything other than themselves Under the Hill. Faeries can’t lie, they can’t go back on their word, they honor their deals and make sure you honor them too, they repay debts and ensure they’re repaid in turn, they amuse themselves playing or squabbling over power, but they do not do things for free. They don’t care about things for free. They don’t defend the innocent, protect the weak, or forgive the ignorant. The culture shock coming here is bewildering.

If I could I’d honor my debts, leave a pile of gold at the doorstep of everyone who’s done me a kindness, but I have not the magic to do so. The drainage ponds hold no sirens, the falling snow has no frolicking pixies between its flakes, there is no magic for me to use here… or is there?

Perhaps I can’t call upon the magic Under the Hill, perhaps I can’t summon gold or make deals with darklings, but I can find magic here, I’ve seen others do it. I’ve seen a moon so beautiful it sends shivers down your spine captured by a little lense-box and put onto thick shiny paper. I’ve seen songs and stories written with such emotion that it moves those who hear them to tears, to laughter, to dancing, to life. I’ve seen kitchen witches cure colds with hot chicken soup, and I’ve seen holy men ward off tricksters they can’t even see with the power of their belief.

Perhaps I can find a way to create my own magic, and do what other people seem to strive to do to repay their debts. Perhaps I can make the world a better place, and learn the magic of humanity. And as for the places where magic does live? Where the boundary between worlds is thin and the drainage ponds and snowflakes carry faerie magic within? …I think I’ll be staying far away, for my part. I might still have a lot to learn, but I think I like it better here.

Say my name.

Pairing : DeanxReader, Sam
Word count : 1,625
Author : Mel

A/N : this is what happens when I have to pee at 4am, and my kid’s radio is playing “Say my name.” by Destiny’s Child.



You were sitting on the edge of the bed staring at the floor and trying to keep your nerve when the Impala pulled in outside. You waited quietly and patiently for them to come into the room. You hoped they didn’t get hurt on this hunt, or your nerve would be gone. Holding your breath as their boots came loser to the door, you glanced up as it finally opened and Dean walked in smiling, with Sam behind him.

“Hey baby.” Dean grinned at you. Both boys looked unhurt, which gave you a sense of relief for just a moment, but you didn’t miss how Sam instantly furrowed his brows at the sight of you.

“What’s my name, Dean.”

“What?” His smile was gone and he was confused.

“Say my name.”

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bad | 04

 He was the cliché bad boy. He was the guy you couldn’t stand. He was the handsome, hot kid who made girls go weak in the knees. He was a brat. You had never liked him one bit, but you had also never gotten involved with anything concerning him. Until one day, when you were in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Originally posted by mvssmedia

MEMBER: jeon jungkook x reader (ft. kim taehyung)

GENRE: romance, future smut, badboy!jungkook

WORDS: 3 155

WARNINGS: cussing, mature

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07coming soon ↠ 

A/N: this part’s kinda weird. it’s more of a build-up chapter. there might end up being about 8 parts lol. thank yOU FOR 900, OMG

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Midnight Luxe {Part 4}

Originally posted by nnochu

(Part 1)  (Part 2) (Part 3(Part 5)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: angst, fashion designer Jungkook AU, 

Summary:  Your life was nothing but a drag until you met Jeon Jungkook, the alluringly beautiful fashion design student who asked you to model for his upcoming runway show. Soon you find yourself pulled into his eccentric group of friends and their enticing world of fashion, sex and music, a world that may ultimately leave your heart in pieces.

Inspired by the anime/manga Paradise Kiss ♥


The day after your accidental meeting with Jungkook in the library, your brain was swamped with thoughts of him,  of that beautiful black velvet dress and the dim and dusty ex-bar that the four of them so passionately made clothes in day and night.

You could still feel the way the soft material of the dress felt against your sensitive skin, you could still remember how it had hung so luxuriously off your frame. It clung to you in all the right places giving you a flawless silhouette. 

The dress was all that was present in your mind as you had listened to the monotonous droning of your mother when she had gotten home. You don’t know why she’d been particularly bitter on this occasion, perhaps one of her friends had been boasting about all that their children had achieved. That always seemed to set her off.

You’re throwing your life away.

I pay so much for you to get a good education and you don’t appreciate it at all.

Ungrateful brat.

Those words had so frequently left your mother’s lips that they didn’t even sting anymore. The knife had been so overused, causing the silver blade to become blunt and painless. 

You thought back to the other night when you’d missed your curfew. She hadn’t cared that at least you were home safe after returning home late. In fact, the idea of your mother telling you off because she was worried about your safety seemed like a luxury to you.  But, of course, the only thing she paid mind to were your grades, what your chances of getting into a prestigious university were and whether you would do the family proud or bring them shame.

Then there was Jungkook and his friends. People that stood for the exact opposite of what you’d been taught since you were a child. They seemed so liberated compared to you, they knew what their dreams were and they fought to achieve them every day. The only dreams you had to speak of were the ones that had been pushed upon you.

But when you’d stood in front of that mirror with that flattering new haircut and that gorgeous dress wrapped around your body, you’d felt more yourself than ever. You’d felt powerful, beautiful, and most crucially, you’d felt so free.

That night, despite your mother’s obvious disappointment in you, you’d fallen asleep with a faint smile fixed upon your lips.

Keep reading

First

A/N: If you guys want another part, it’s going to be virgin Shawn smut, but we’ll see if you like this. 

Word count: 4,431

You laughed as you and your friends made your way through the crowd of slightly drunk people. Okay, more than just slightly. Just before you were about to reach the doors to the club, your friend Laurel stopped walking, making you and your other friend, Julia, stop as well.

“Alrighty girls-“ she started, raising her left eyebrow at you.

Oh no, you knew that look.

Keep reading

Delta (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Pt. 10 ❤️

-A/N: I’M SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT BB’S!! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS ONE! i made it extra smutty! (; ENJOY! - Delilah ❤️  




You stared at yourself in the mirror, running your eyes over your current outfit.

The summer dress you wore hugged your curves perfectly, especially around your tummy. You tugged at the material, trying to see how far it would stretch before letting it go against your skin. You usually did that nowadays; trying to get an idea when you’d eventually have to stop wearing it. Bucky had bought you this dress and you loved it with a passion.

The sound of a knock on your door broke your thoughts. With a smile, you turned around to be greeted with an excited Pepper, who held your jacket in her hands.

“It’s gonna get a bit chilly tonight,” she squealed, slipping it over your shoulders.

You giggled, moving your hair to the side as she did so. You turned around, holding out your arms so that she got a view of your outfit. “Do I look okay?” you asked, looking down at your dress.

Pepper placed her hands on her hips, a small impressed smile on her cherry red lips.

“You look amazing, Y/N. Bucky’s gonna be blown away.”

Now that you and Bucky had the waiver out of the way, you could focus on the baby that was growing inside you. After many days spent contemplating on your future, you decided that you did in fact want a future with Bucky by your side. You wanted him to be your alpha. He practically cried when you told him that you wanted to bond with him.

But, you wanted to do it the right way.

It wasn’t traditional by any means, you knew that. Even though you were pretty much going backwards, you both decided to take it slow, which meant doing things people in relationships did. Like go on dates, watch movies together, all that stuff.

And Bucky, being the 40’s gentleman he was, was more than okay with that. He practically jumped at the opportunity to take you on your first date.

That’s how you needed up spending hours on your hair, makeup and outfit. You wanted to look good for your alpha, meaning you’d put in the largest amount of effort possible.

You had no idea where he was taking you.

You honestly had never been courted before, as you would never let any other people anywhere near you. But now, you had found your other half and you wanted to be as perfect as possible.


Bucky stood in the lobby of the tower, nervously waiting for you to arrive. He stared down at the bouquet of roses in his hand.

Man, this was so much different from the last time he did this. In the past, he was hardly ever nervous about the omegas he courted. Well, he didn’t really court them, he just slept with them for a night and then disappeared. That sounded so bad from that point of view.

It should’ve been easy for him. After all, he’s been on countless dates. But for some reason, he felt like he needed to impress you -which is something he hardly did with the other girls he took out.

He was your alpha and he felt the intense feeling to provide for you and give you countless amounts of attention. He felt it the day he met you and it had only gotten stronger.

He wanted you happy and he was willing to do anything to make sure you were.

“Bucky?”

He spun around, ready to give you the roses, but as soon as his eyes landed on you, his eyes widened.

You looked so damn beautiful.

When his eyes landed on your tummy, taking in the sight of the woman of his dreams carrying his pup, he felt his heart swell. The dress he bought you enhanced every little curve on your body.

“Jesus, doll…” he gawked, taking in your being. There was no way he was going to be able to get through dinner without at least needing a uh…bathroom break once or twice. You just had that effect on him.

You blushed, pulling a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You weren’t used to components, especially from the opposite sex. And Bucky, being the insanely handsome alpha he was, was like getting complimented from a celebrity.

A really sexy celebrity who you’ve been lusting after since middle school.

“Hi,” you giggled, awkwardly fumbling with your hands. Bucky bent down and placed a kiss onto your lips.

And god damn, did that intensify everything.

When you closed your eyes, you immediately felt a slight heat rising in your chest. Your legs began to shake and you went a bit lightheaded.  You dismissed it as heartburn.

When you pulled away, it suddenly stopped. You peered up at Bucky, who stared down at you with a matching confused expression.

“We should get going!” He chimed, wrapping his arm around yours and guiding you to the lobby doors. You could tell he was trying to ignore what had just accused, but…you felt something back there. You didn’t know what, but you did.

And you wanted to know what it was.


“Have you thought of any names yet?” Bucky asked you as he took a sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving yours.

You totally hadn’t thought about that.

The baby was going to be due in no less than four months now and you had yet to pick a name. You always had trouble picking things out or simply making decisions; it must’ve been your Delta nature. After all, deltas weren’t the most efficient when it came to make decisions.

But you wanted to pick the name. At least one of them.

“What about…Jane?” He asked, sensing your inner conflict. He raised his eyebrows, searching your face for any signs you liked the name.

You crinkled your nose and shook your head.

“What about Lana?” You asked, a small hopeful smile on your lips. It was a pretty name.

Bucky let out a small snort, causing you to raise an eyebrow. Was it that bad?

“Uh….I don’t know about that one, doll.” You frowned.

“Why not?”

“Spell Lana backwards.”

Instantly, your face broke out into an embarrassed blush. Oh god, your poor baby would be a target for bullying if you named her that.

“Have you thought of any, alpha?” You asked. When he didn’t answer, you raised your eyes to give him a smile. Instead of getting one back, you were met with Bucky’s lustful blue eyes staring back at you.

He cleared his throat before taking another sip of wine.

“Isabel?” He offered. You couldn’t help the grin that grew into your lips.

“Isabel Barnes,” you spoke. Bucky’s eyes lit up when you said that. “I like how it sounds.”

You thought back to what your brother told you before he left. If it was true, you’d have little Isabel running around here in just a few short months. But for some reason…you didn’t feel so sure.

“And what if it’s a boy?” You ask, placing your elbows on the table and resting your chin on your hands. You were eager to hear him say anything, as dumb as that sounded. Just the sound of your alpha’s voice made your heart flutter.

“If it’s a boy…” he began. “I think you ought pick, doll.” Your eyes widened a bit. An alpha letting a delta name their pup? That was completely unheard of.

You thought for a while. There were so many darn names to choose from. You thought about the name Grant, after Steve’s father, but that just didn’t fit. You even thought of naming your son after Tony, but considering Bucky and his past, that was a major no-no. Hell, you even considered Peter.

“I like Noah!” You exclaimed.

“Noah.” Bucky spoke, a small smile on his lips. “I like that.”

“His middle name has to be James, though.” You blushed. Bucky let out a breathy chuckle.

He reached for your hand, running his metal fingers along the soft flesh lightly. That immediately sent shivers down your spine and you were instantly damp between your legs.

“We’re gonna take this slow okay, doll?” He assured, his blue eyes searching yours for any doubt.

“Mhm,” you nodded, biting your lip as you watched him drag his tongue along his bottom lip. You knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, but Jesus, it was doing so many things to you.

He immediately inhaled sharply, catching the scent of your pheromones. His eyes dilated slightly, just for a second before he shook his head, regaining his composure.

“Damn, sugar,” he let out a breathy laugh. “This is gonna be really hard for me.”

“I know, alpha,” you squeezed his hand. “but we can do this. I know we can.”

Bucky nodded, pressing a small kiss to your hand.

“One step at a time, right?” You smiled, giving him a nod.

“One step at a time.”


You let out a scream as Bucky shook his head rapidly, his tongue creating an amazing sensation onto your clit. That was all it took for him to bring you over the edge once again. This was the third orgasm he’d given you tonight, and you hoped he wouldn’t stop.

So much for taking it slow, right?

Bucky crawled up your body, crashing his mouth onto yours. He placed his hand on your jaw, forcing it open so that his tongue could explore your mouth.

You let out a small whimper, feeling his tongue dominate yours. And you completely let him. You felt Bucky pull away from you and gently flip you onto his back with you straddling his body.

“Fuck, doll,” he groaned, taking in the sight of you completely naked and straddling him. The sight of your barely swollen tummy only tummy only turned him on more.

“Bucky,” you whimpered, slowly grinding your core onto his thigh. You threw your head back, savoring the sweet sensation. It’s been forever since you first had sex with Bucky and you were craving him.

“You wanna ride me, sugar?” He growled, his voice falling deeper with each word. “You wanna make me your alpha?”

You nodded, grinding down harder. You wanted that so bad. Lifting yourself up, you grabbed ahold of his thick length and positioned it at your entrance. You gently ran the tip of it along your dripping folds, circling his head on your clit.

Bucky let out a small groan and ran his hands along your hips, gripping them harshly with this fingers.

“Please, Y/N,” he begged, bucking his hips upwards. The head of his cock pressed against your clit in such a delicious way, you couldn’t help but moan.

You placed your hands on his chest and lowered yourself onto his length. Bucky’s head fell back onto the pillows, his eyes screwed shut. You could see the small veins in his neck as he tried to keep from thrusting into you.

You gave an experimental bounce of your hips, moving them in small circles. Bucky was so big, you could feel every inch of him stretching your walls, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix. You moved faster, grinding your hips onto his.

“F-Fuck, Y/N.” he gasped, his hands travelling behind you to the soft flesh of your behind and kneading it harshly. “You drive me so fucking crazy.”

The mechanical sounds of his metal arm as it flexed added onto the arousal between your legs. You couldn’t wait until Bucky was comfortable to finger fuck you. Shifting so that your knees were better placed on the bed, you began swirling your hips in a figure 8.

“Oh, alpha.” You moaned, removing your hands from his chest and placing them onto your breasts. You pinched your nipples softly, rolling them with your thumb.

“Fuck me, Y/N,” he groaned, his fingers kneading your ass harder. “that’s what you want, right? You wanna make me yours?” 

Those last few words awoken something inside you. You didn’t have a single dominant bone in your body, but you had the burning urge to claim him; Bucky was yours and nobody else could have him. 

You had no idea where this newfound courage came from, but all coyness left you. Your right hand shot out and wrapped around Bucky’s throat, squeezing it harshly. You immediately expected him to give you a warning, or at least some kind of growl, but instead you were welcomed with the hottest thing on this planet. 

Bucky whimpered. 

He trusted upwards into your heat, letting you know that he was still the alpha in this, but you were in complete control of him. 

He was your bitch now. 

And you were never going to let him forget that.

You tightened your grip around his throat, digging your nails into the flesh softly as you bounced onto his throbbing cock. You placed your left hand on his chest and dug your nails into the flesh harshly, dragging them down his body. The marks created angry little red lines, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, it only turned him on even more. 

“Ah, baby I’m so fucking close,” he gasped, his eyes fluttering shut. He placed his hands onto your hips again and began thrusting into your throbbing pussy. The sounds of his skin against yours, along with the slick running down your thighs was the only thing you heard, along with Bucky’s whimpers of pleasure. 

“Please come inside me, alpha!” you mewled, feeling his cock nudge against your sweet spot repeatedly. 

In one move, Bucky sat up and flipped you both over. He gave you a quick, passionate kiss before placing his metal hand onto your shoulder and moving you so that you were positioned on your hands and knees. He placed his hand on your lower back, gently pressing downwards.Taking the hint, you arched your back, sticking your ass out for him. 

“P-please, James,” you moaned, reaching behind you and placing your hand on his. “Please make me come.”

The Russian swear he let out was barely audible, but you could feel the tip of his cock gently pressing into your folds, stretching your walls. You gasped, grasping hold of his hand tighter as his hips snapped forward into you. 

Bucky’s pace was almost brutal as he fucked your pulsing pussy. You could feel him hitting your g spot over and over, making you scream. Each time he bottomed out, he let out a groan, and you loved every second of it. 

You felt the familiar feeling of your orgasm building. You began clenching around his cock, milking it with each thrust. 

“Тебе это нравится, принцесса?” he groaned, thrusting harder into you. 

“Я так его обожаю, папочка!” you replied, much to his surprise. 

With one final thrust, your orgasm hit you at full force. You let out a blood curling scream as his cock fucked into you mercilessly. Bucky’s thrusts became sloppy, full of unrelenting force as he chased his orgasm. 

Before you could think, you felt his hand wrap around your throat, pulling you backwards. You gasped as he pulled you back harshly and onto your knees. Y

That’s when you felt it. 

The warmth in your chest, the lightheaded feeling and the shaking of your legs. It was right in front of you, but you just couldn’t understand. Bucky sunk his teeth into the warm flesh of your neck. It should’ve hurt, you knew that, but whether it be from the mind numbing orgasm, you felt the most intense pleasure.

Your eyes shut completely as Bucky spilled his come inside you, painting your walls. You clenched around him once again, wanting every single of it. 


You lay your head on Bucky’s chest, huffing softly as you fought to catch your breath. That was by far the most amazing experience you’d ever had. You just hoped he felt the same. 

“Did I hurt you?” his voice was soft, barely above a whisper. If you hadn’t have caught your breath by now, you wouldn’t have heard it. You peered up at your alpha, your eyes wide. 

“N-No!” you stuttered. “I feel great. A little sore, but I loved every minute of it.” 

His eyes flickered to you, searching for any signs of discomfort. You gave him a small reassuring smile. That’s all it took. He gave you a dorky grin, pressing a tender kiss onto your forehead. 

I love her so much 

Your eyes instantly snapped open. You looked up at Bucky, completely flabbergasted. 

“Y-You love me?” You squeaked. Bucky peered down at you with an equally confused expression. 

“I didn’t say anythi- wait what?”

Is he okay?

Bucky sat up, the sheets falling to his waist in the process. He heard you, he was a hundred percent sure…but you hadn’t opened your mouth. 

“Bucky…” you whispered, your eyes filled with tears. You were sure of it now, no a hundred percent. “Did we…?”

Bucky smiled softly, cupping your cheek with his metal hand. “We did it, doll.” 

“We’re one now.”


-FIN!


THEY FINALLY DID IT!!!

Tag list of super awesome people! 

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anonymous asked:

But what about Derek who is afraid of fireworks and so he wears those noise canceling headphones that you see kids wear when they watch fireworks and derek is embarrassed about them and he says he'll just stay home and that fireworks arent that cool anyway, he has things he needs to do (pt1)

but Stiles can tell something is up so he sticks around until everyone has left to go watch them and he asks Derek and after a few minutes of trying to lie about it Derek’s shoulders slump and he shows them to Stiles and his cheeks are pink with embarrassment as he explains that they don’t cancel the noise but it helps to mute it and it works well enough for him to be able to enjoy watching the fireworks.

Stiles makes a noise of understanding and walks over to Derek to take the headphones out of his hand and he gently fits them over Derek’s ears. Stiles then goes on to explain that Derek has nothing to be embarrassed about, that he grew up watching the fireworks with his dad and the people from the station and he knew plenty of hard ass cops who after retiring would wear them and if anyone tries to tease Derek he’ll beat them up. Then there’s forehead kisses and a beautiful night of fireworks.

You know what I love about this (except everything)??? Is that sometime between meeting and this beautiful firework headcanon, Derek got comfortable enough around Stiles to the point where instead of barking at him to get out or showing him the headphones and growling, daring Stiles to say anything, he is shy. Like, I want to think about this. I want to think about Derek Hale and how he puts up a hundred walls, each wall usually made of something unpleasant and standoffish because it’s the only way he knows how to build walls after Kate. 

I want to think about how relieved Derek is, how secretly happy, when Stiles never takes any of his shit and how, when Derek threatens to bite, Stiles is the only one who laughs and bares his neck with a “come on then, sourwolf”, daring him. I want to think about how if anyone else had thought to stick around, Derek is positive he would have managed to scare them - or at the very least anger them - into going away. Not Stiles though, never Stiles. Even when Derek does manage to piss Stiles off enough to get him to leave, he always comes back. And it gets to the point where Derek starts getting hopeful, starts getting lazy in his plan to never let anyone touch his heart again (barring Cora, of course) and so, when Stiles confronts him about the headphones and he finds himself blushing instead of yelling it’s a big deal. 

Derek was always the cool kid when he was younger and when he got embarrassed it was usually only because Laura was teasing him about his stash of history magazines that he always hid under his bed whenever he invited Paige over, or the way he’d sing songs from Aladdin in the shower. There were always things he was insecure about - Kate, most of all, played on them - but even during his first kiss, Derek was confident and cocky. He liked confident and cocky, he still did. 

But when he first met Stiles, something faltered. At first, he didn’t notice it, too busy hating Stiles, but as he got to know him and after everything they went through together, Derek started to notice. Notice the way his palms sweated when Stiles smiled at him from across a room, or the nervous tick of his heart when Stiles casually talked about sex and the way he gently held both Allison and Erica’s hair the first time they had a pack night out and no one expected the punch Lydia’s wolfsbane vodka was going to pack.  

After five years, Derek does feel himself softening around the pack but not in the same way he does with Stiles. All Stiles has to do is wink at him these days and instead of scowling, Derek feels a horrible, familiar jolt. The jolt he used to get watching Paige play in band, the same jolt he used to get whenever Kate would text. It makes him excited and uneasy at the same time and even though he knows Stiles is not Kate, he could still be Paige. He could still die. 

And yet, he can’t help being drawn in because he’s not fifteen anymore and neither is Stiles. Stiles is strong - stronger than anyone gives him credit for - and when danger threatens to kick Derek’s ass, he is always there with his bat and two arms ready to drag him across whatever floor Derek always manages to find himself on after every attack. Just for once, can you NOT do the martyr thing, dude? Lucky for you I had a plan G, huh? Bet you’re not laughing at it now.

And it’s this - this transition from I’m going to rip your throat out to shyly showing Stiles his headphones, headphones he’s actually embarrassed about where he never would have been as a kid - that gets me the most. That when Stiles (half-jokingly) tells Derek he’ll beat up anyone who teases him, Derek doesn’t roll his eyes but instead tentatively offers Stiles his hand and smiles, ducking his head, feeling safe and loved in a way he hasn’t since Laura died.