the first two are fine but the rest look like shit

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Harry Styles: Singer Opens Up About Famous Flings, Honest New LP
One Direction's Harry Styles goes deep on love, family and his heartfelt new solo debut in our revealing feature.

January 2016. There’s a bench at the top of Primrose Hill, in London, that looks out over the skyline of the city. If you’d passed by it one winter night, you might have seen him sitting there. A lanky guy in a wool hat, overcoat and jogging pants, hands thrust deep into his pockets. Harry Styles had a lot on his mind. He had spent five years as the buoyant fan favorite in One Direction; now, an uncertain future stretched out in front of him. The band had announced an indefinite hiatus. The white noise of adulation was gone, replaced by the hushed sound of the city below.

The fame visited upon Harry Styles in his years with One D was a special kind of mania. With a self-effacing smile, a hint of darkness and the hair invariably described as “tousled,” he became a canvas onto which millions of fans pitched their hopes and dreams. Hell, when he pulled over to the side of the 101 freeway in L.A. and discreetly threw up, the spot became a fan shrine. It’s said the puke was even sold on eBay like pieces of the Berlin Wall. Paul McCartney has interviewed him. Then there was the unauthorized fan-fiction series featuring a punky, sexed-up version of “Harry Styles.” A billion readers followed his virtual exploits. (“Didn’t read it,” comments the nonfiction Styles, “but I hope he gets more than me.”)

But at the height of One D–mania, Styles took a step back. For many, 2016 was a year of lost musical heroes and a toxic new world order. For Styles, it was a search for a new identity that began on that bench overlooking London. What would a solo Harry Styles sound like? A plan came into focus. A song cycle about women and relationships. Ten songs. More of a rock sound. A bold single-color cover to match the working title: Pink. (He quotes the Clash’s Paul Simonon: “Pink is the only true rock & roll colour.”) Many of the details would change over the coming year – including the title, which would end up as Harry Styles – but one word stuck in his head.

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BOYFRIEND! BTS - JUNGKOOK EDITION

☆Dating Jungkook would include☆

Originally posted by beatriceindre

-A WHOLE LOT OF AWKWARDNESS (before the emergence of the cocky muscle pig)

 -We all know kookie is a shy bunny so dont expect much from this fluffy meme ball at the begininning

-It would probably take few months(or years) for kookie to hold your hand 

 -FoR rEaL Tho

 -This bunny would be his own enemy when it came to intiating skinship 

 - ‘Y/N LimBs aRe finAlLy FreE–..oh no .. s/he’s eating some chips now… ‘oh man holy shit’ “ 

-MEMEMEMEMEMEMESSSS

 - Your messages between each other would just be full on meme

 - because meme is his favourite language

-only being able to talk to you through text 

 - tHe poor bOY woUld bE fRoZeN iN front of yOU

-Going to the hyungs for advice

 -but ends up getting teased T.T

-Lots of amusement park and active dates… you better bring your asthma pump with you..i mean you are dating jeon jungkook after all

 -IRON MAN NEED I SAY MORE 

 - Taking nothing but ugly pictures of each other

-and using them as blackmail weapons

 - YOUr wHOle family lOVe hiM

 -you look like the devil besides him to them he can do no wrong

-you two being the 'no you hang up first’ couple in the beginning but now he just hangs up 

 -tbh you both get off of annoying each other

 - (video calling your dad) 

You:Daddy! How are you? 

《A wild Jungkook appears behind you》 

Jungkook: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Daddy’s fine… wHO iS– 

 Throws your phone out the window 

 -” Lets never speak of this again" 

“Since when did you become 'Daddy’? ” 

“Hussshhh~~( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ”

 - You going to watch their dance practices = him forcing the memebers to dress up in live performance attire 

 -Jimin having to accept that kookie is taken T.T

- “Im okay rlly..anyways Taehyung’s free ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)…”

 -If you’re short》You being teased mercilessly; Picked up at random times; literally being smothered when you hug him ; being called cuTE all tHE tIME; SPINS ALL THE TIME

 -If you’re tall》 marvelling at your beautiful long legs; no discrimination YOU’D ALSO BE CALLED CUTE ALL THE TIME; Seriously kookie would marvel at how elegant you looked; him being able to rest hishead on your shoulder,; KOOKIE SAID HE LIKES TALL GIRLS SO~~(i nEeD tO gROw) 

 - A lot of inside jokes… people just end up thinking you two are dumb beans -

 - Dont forget all the meme dances #1 Dance couple

-You guys would probably end up uploading a video with all of your signature meme dances combined 

 -Anime marathons~~~ if your not a fan of anime. you soon will be

SEXY TIMES (oH gOD nO)

Expectation:

Originally posted by ultranicolet

Originally posted by mvssmedia

Originally posted by queenwithcollars


REALITY (☆_☆)

Originally posted by kpoptrashandproud

Originally posted by mayfifolle

Originally posted by bts-yes-please

Originally posted by reneemallen

-You’d probably have to initiate any kind of intimacy 

-but once he feels comfortable with you –_-_-_-_-_-_ R.I.P YOU

-sERioUSLy- This boy would be a fuckin incubus once his shyness is gone

-kOoKiE tHe pErvErT iS bOrN

-You’d have to fence him off from you

-He wouldnt really be into public teasing because he’s a really private person

-if he decided to initiate it, he’d be fine

-THIGH RIDING

-A WHOLE LOT OF THIGH RIDING

-YOU BETTER WORSHIP THEM THIGHS

-You getting angry when he leaves visble hickeys but him still continuing

-You then plan on getting him back but then realise the massive sHit StOrm it would create so you back down

-instead you hide all his timberlands and replace all his white shirts with brony merch because you believe everyone should love my little pony 

Originally posted by kpopruinedmy-soul

- He wouldnt really be into PDA especially in front of the members. it would be too embarrassing for him.. he stiLl sHY and the hyungs have no mercy

☆Overall kookie would be a fun and chill boyfriend, a bit sensitive as long as you’re okay with dishing out hugs and affirmations then there should be no problem☆

Admin noodlecat

PROPOSALS

▹ pairing: Jeongguk x reader
▹ words: 18,102 I’m so sorry 
▹ genre: smut, fluff, light angst, friends to lovers

You and Jeongguk propose at restaurants to get free food, but somewhere along the way you start to fall for him.


You never thought Jeongguk would actually take you up on the whole fake proposals thing. When you had suggested the idea to him, he’d just laughed and said “yeah”, then continued playing Fallout 4. You hadn’t actually meant it; the idea was one of those you vaguely imagine it happening, but not really, which is why when he brought it up weeks later suggesting you try it out, you thought he was kidding. 

He wasn’t, and this is how you end up in one of the city’s nicer restaurants on a fake date with your best friend. 

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All For Show

Valentine’s Day Special #2

Pair : Steve Rogers x Reader

8. You ask your best friend to pretend to be your boyfriend for your sisters couples dinner party. Requested by anon. 

Warning : Language

Word Count : 2,434

Three knocks, that’s all it took before Steve opened the door. He stood there, wearing a tank top and sweats, and his hair damped from sweat, which only meant he just came back from the gym.

“Hey, didn’t expect you here today.” He smiled, waving you in.

“I know, but I needed to talk to you.”

You walked in to his apartment, and plopped down onto his couch. His place was like your second home. You were always there, and if you weren’t, then you two were at your place.

“Beer?” He asked, walking to the kitchen.

“Nah, just water.”

Steve tossed you a water bottle, as he started back toward the living room where you waited.

You took a big swig of the water and felt the cold liquid trickle down your throat. Making you feel somewhat at ease.

“So what did you need to talk to me about?” Steve asked, leaning against the wall across from you.

For some reason you were feeling nervous. Which was strange. Steve was your best friend. You two were so close, you were able to talk to him about anything. He’s seen you in sweats with no makeup on. He’s helped you when you were a drunken mess. And yet, you were somehow nervous about this topic.

“Y/N.” he snapped his fingers, catching your attention. “You okay?”

You slowly nodded, running your hand through your hair. Something you did when you were nervous.

“So my sister is throwing a couples party tomorrow night, and when I RSVP’d a month ago, I was dating Jared-”

“The asshole.” He cut you off.

“Woah, language.” You teased.

He dramatically rolled his eyes and huffed. “Anyways, go on.”

“As I was saying, I told her I’d go and now she’s expecting me to be there.”

“So?” He drawled out.

You swallowed hard, meeting your best friends gaze.

“I was wondering if you can go as my fake boyfriend.” You slightly winced as the words finally fell from your lips.

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anonymous asked:

Isn't there a really dodgy bit in Why Does He Do That? I read somewhere that it says a man who says he's being abused is the abuser in a relationship, which... no, male victims of domestic abuse exist too...

Yes.  I was actually going to post about this.

It’s not just a “dodgy bit”.  There are multiple points at which he says things that I didn’t care for.

The “male abuse victims are probably lying” thing is is the biggest flaw in the book, but the book is still absolutely vital, and people should still read and recommend it.  Full stop.  Because a thing is flawed does not mean it has no value and should not be circulated to those people that it could help.  If the book were less shockingly accurate and unflinching in its portrayal of abusive men, if it were less good in the ways that it is good, perhaps I would feel more hesitation.

I’ve read basically the whole thing so far (I’m about 20-30 pages from the end in the PDF), and here’s the deal.

He doesn’t say unilaterally that men lie about being abused.  He says that abusive men lie about being abused by women.  It’s a fine distinction, and not really much better, but I want to be clear that that is what he is saying.  Not that men lie about all abuse, but that they lie about being abused by women.  Abusive men, especially, will tell this lie to get the upper hand.

Based on what he has seen after dealing with a couple thousand men who abuse women, I do not doubt that this is true.

But he seems to think the number of abused men is smaller than the number of abusive men who are lying about being abused.  Even if that is true, abused men are not acceptable collateral damage.  It’s not okay to act like the issue isn’t important just because liars exist.

He uses SOME qualifying language. I’m not going to go digging for it, but it’s along the line of “Male victims of domestic violence are really rare compared to the number of female victims.”  After that he kind of treats it like they either don’t exist, or the fact that they do is irrelevant in the face of the much more widespread problem of men who abuse women.  I won’t lie, that’s not good.

To be frank, he does not seem all that aware of social justice issues the way that all us gigantic queers on Tumblr are.  His awareness of LGBT issues is peripheral.  When he says “men” and “women”, he definitely means “cis men” and “cis women”.  And the book definitely reads like a book written by a cis dude to me.  But honestly, this is a book that only a cis dude could have written, because only a cis dude could have worked with other (cis) men the way he has, and it is precisely that experience that makes it so valuable.

The fact that he’s biased doesn’t mean he is talking out his ass the rest of the time.  He’s not.  At the time of publication (2002) he had worked with over two thousand abusive men whose targets were women.  He pioneered recovery programs for these men.  He was the first to really get down and work with them on a daily basis, both in group and personal therapy settings.  And that experience shows.

No.  He really really doesn’t understand abused men.

But he understands abusive men.  Specifically, he understands men who abuse women.

On the one hand, it’s given him an unprecedented level of insight into abusers’ mindsets, and that is so valuable.  

On the other, the graphic and awful examples he has seen of men who are lying to get themselves out of trouble or justify their behavior have definitely colored his views of male victims.  These men – men, I emphasize, referred to him by the legal system, meaning they were entirely confirmed abusers – WERE almost always lying about it.  I think he mentions two exceptions?  And yeah, that sounds like shit abusers fucking do.  I believe him.

Within his setting, within his sample, I believe he is 100% correct in his assessment – abusers are likely to be lying about having suffered partner violence.

That setting absolutely is not the rest of the world, and I think he loses sight of that, if he ever had sight of it to begin with.  That’s a terrible flaw.

Another flaw is that it gives very little face-time to same-sex relationship abuse.  It goes into it a little, and does it a little ham-handedly but not too badly, but mostly it gets ignored.

Rather than raise these issues at all and then doing it badly, I wish he had said “The issue of abuse in LGBT relationships, as well as the issue of women abusing men, is sadly beyond the scope of my experience, and therefore this book is not about those issues.”

There is nothing wrong with focusing on one aspect of the issue of intimate partner violence.  That he did so is not a bad thing.  The bad thing that he did is to treat the rest of it like a non-issue, when it isn’t, and that he said some things that encourage the reader to be generally suspicious of men who say that women have abused them.  Those are bad things.

Would I recommend it to a man who is being/was abused by a woman?  No no no.  Absolutely not.  Those dynamics are completely different, and the abuse is likely to look very different, and I feel like very little of it will be accessible to someone in that situation.  I think it would do more harm than good.

Would I recommend it to someone in a non-cishet relationship?  Maybe, but probably not, unless I had a little insight into the relationship and felt like it would be a good match.

Would I still recommend it to women, or to people who want a general understanding of the dynamics between abusive cis men and abused women?  YES.  YES A THOUSAND TIMES.

The book is not “good” in a morally/ideologically pure, okay?  It is flawed.  But for what it is, which is a book about men who abuse women, it is very good.   He is on the side of abused women, all the fucking way.  And that is still an astonishingly rare thing to find. 

It validates the experiences of women abused by men by showing different types of abusive behavior and different types of abuser.  He says at multiple points “If you’re wondering whether it’s abuse, then it probably is.”  And that is still such a radical, necessary, healthy and badly-needed thing to say.

I’m not going to defend the way he treats the issue of abused men, or abuse in LGBT relationships,  He barely deals with these issues at all, and when he does, it’s halfhearted at best and actively regressive at worst.  In that regard, it’s shitty.  If that is what you are needing, this book won’t give it to you.

I am going to defend it as an excellent starting place for women abused by men, or in toxic almost-abusive relationships with them.

I would prefer it not be flawed, and if it has to be flawed, I would prefer it come with a disclaimer, but I would rather it circulate flawed and without a disclaimer of any kind that fail to reach someone who really, really needs it.

We could be waiting a long time for a better, more inclusive book to come out.  There’s not time to wait.  This book is needed now.  TODAY.

That said, I am always glad to reblog helpful resources for abused men, or for people in non-cishet relationships, if you know of any.  I would love to know about comparable GOOD books for LGBT people, if you know any, or would love to know about GOOD books written for male victims of domestic violence.

anonymous asked:

Hey so you prob have v v many prompts but like I would love to suggest one.. Okay so, Dan is a very confident slutty pastel teenager and Phil is a badass punk boy that everyone fawns over.. and they absolutely hate each other but one thing leads to another and they end up at the same party where Phil is dared to fuck Dan in front of everyone.. (LOTS OF DEGRATION, and dom Phil and sub dan)

a 👌 classic 👌👌

*small mention of rape*

dirty talk + degrading + lots of language idk it’s one am

-

“You look like a slut.” PJ handed Dan a drink, leaning against the counter next to him, raising his eyebrows.

“Thanks, that was the point.” Dan winked, hiking up his already far too short baby blue shorts. PJ rolled his eyes.

“You’re gonna get raped.”

“Um, excuse me, I can take care of myself.” Dan took a sip from the red plastic cup, frowning. “I haven’t gotten raped yet, have I?”

PJ shook his head, staring at Dan like he didn’t understand him one bit. “I just don’t get why you want to look like you strip for truckers.”

Dan pursed his lips, shifting his pink sweater so it hung on him perfectly, showing just the right amount of collarbone. He smirked.

“That’s probably because you’re a virgin, honey.”

PJ pretended to flinch, shaking his head. “Ouch. That was harsh.”

Dan just shrugged, licking his lips.

“Hey Dan,” PJ started, his eyes lighting up as he stared at something across the room. “Your boyfriend’s here.”

“Shit,” Dan groaned, not even having to look, but he did anyways.

Phil Lester had just entered the room, fully clad in black and far too many zippers.

He was wearing a black leather jacket and t shirt, his jeans the same shade, what a surprise. On his feet were large motorcycle boots. Dan scowled.

He had about five people practically hanging off his arms, Dan hated him.

“He thinks he’s so hot,” Dan grumbled, glaring at his cup. “He thinks he can get anyone he fucking wants, what a twat.”

“Aw,” PJ grinned. “Dan’s got a crush.”

“Fuck you,” Dan growled, punching him on the arm, hard. “I’m as close to having a crush on him as I am to fucking him.”

“Dan, you’re literally the sluttiest person I have ever met.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “I’ll fuck almost anyone BUT him.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Positive.”

~~~

Dan raised his eyebrows, amused. “No. You’re drunk.”

“C'mon Dan,” his friend Chris whined, tugging at his sleeve. “It’ll be fun!”

“No, it won’t.” Dan pulled his hand away. “It’ll be a lot of drunk guys daring me to jerk them. I’m not playing.”

Chris sighed, crossing his arms. “Dan, I hate to do this, but if you don’t come I’ll tell everyone that you hooked up with Mr. Parker over the summer.”

Dan’s eyes widened, and he glared at him. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.” Chris smirked. Dan scowled at his friend.

“Fine. Fuck you, fine. Let’s get this over with.”

The game of truth or dare was happening in one of the bedrooms; Dan was fairly certain it belonged to the kid’s parents. It consisted of a bunch of drunk sweaty teens that had formed a circle, passing around risky orders and questions in excited whispers.

Dan sat down between Chris and PJ, running his fingers through his hair. He shot a glare at Phil across the circle, who was staring at him.

The first ten minutes were normal. The other kids basically ignored Dan, focusing on one person after another. They seemed to change their focus often; singling out one poor soul after another. Soon the focus was on Phil.

“If you had to fuck anyone in this group, who would it be?” Some guy asked Phil, and Dan looked up, for some reason interested to hear the answer.

Phil smirked, glancing around at everyone before his eyes landed on Dan. He laughed.

“Probably not him,” he said, grinning cockily. “I wouldn’t want to catch anything.”

Dan felt a pang shoot through his chest, and he crossed his arms.

“Fuck you, Lester. At least I don’t have to wear animal skin to look bad ass,” he shot back. Phil glared at him.

The rest of the group fell fairly silent, and Dan was highly aware of everyone’s eyes on them. Finally Chris spoke.

“Okay but, you guys should fuck.”

There was some mutual agreement, and Dan’s eyes widened.

“What? Why!”

“Yeah, no, for once I agree with you. Hell no.” Phil shook his head, looking shocked.

“With a few more drinks, you two will be all over each other.” A boy, Dan thought he remembered his name was Charlie and that he was the kid this house belonged to, said, taking a swig of his beer. There was some nodding from the other people.

“That’s not true,” Dan mumbled, crossing his arms.

“Alright, is no one going to say it?” Chris glanced around the circle. “Fine, I will. I dare you two to kiss.”

“Fuck no,” Dan said immediately, before Phil could even respond. “I’m not doing that.”

“Dan, don’t be a pussy,” Phil growled in a voice Dan was fairly certain he had never heard from him before. “It’s a dare.”

“You’re seriously agreeing to this?” Dan scoffed. Phil shrugged.

“Well, I’m not scared of a little dare.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Dan mumbled, sighing and moving closer to him, on his knees. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Phil smirked, leaning forward and pulling Dan forward by his shirt so he was practically sitting in his lap. Dan hardly had time to react, let alone speak, before Phil was pressing their lips together. Dan just let it happen; it only lasted a second before Phil was pulling back and it was over.

“No no no,” Chris said, grinning. “That doesn’t count. You have to really kiss, for at least ten seconds.”

“Seriously?” Dan asked, and his friend just shrugged. Phil mumbled something under his breath, tangling his fingers in Dan’s hair and tugging him back roughly.

This time Phil kissed him open mouthed, their lips clashing and sliding together. Dan was highly aware of Phil’s tongue invading his mouth, and he fought back with his own.

Dan wrapped his arms around Phil’s neck, kissing him deeper and clutching at his shirt, so lost in the feeling that he didn’t hear Chris shouting that their time was up.

Finally Dan pulled back, mostly because he needed to breathe, and frowned when he realized everyone was staring at him. Including Phil.

Everyone was quiet, mostly in shock, until a boy in the back spoke up.

“I dare you to ride him,” he said, grinning drunkly.

Dan and Phil made eye contact, and Phil smirked.

“Well?” He asked cockily.

“You’re really putting this up to me?”

Phil nodded slowly, licking his lips and tangling his fingers in Dan’s hair, tugging his head back roughly. “Well, Dan? Are you too scared?”

“I’m not scared,” Dan breathed, frowning at him.

“Well then prove it, pretty boy.”

Dan gasped as Phil bit down on his neck, sucking thoroughly on a spot under his ear. It felt completely wrong to have the guy he absolutely despised leaving marks on his neck, but kind of fucking sexy in a way. Or maybe that was the alcohol talking.

Dan felt himself tense up as Phil slid his hand down his stomach, brushing the hem of his shorts.

“Couldn’t we use a different room or something?” Dan asked, grabbing Phil’s wrists instinctively.

“No,” said the boy from before, quickly. “We won’t have any proof you did it.”

“You thirsty fucker,” Dan hissed at him as Phil played with his zipper.

Phil hummed against his neck as he pushed down his shorts, and Dan let him. None of them would remember this in the morning, and most of them had seen Dan naked anyways.

“I bet you love this,” he whispered, biting down on Dan’s ear, scratching his nails down Dan’s thighs. “You’re such a fucking slut, I bet you love being exposed like this.”

“Says the guy who’s erection is digging into my back,” Dan shot back, and Phil shrugged.

“So? I’m turned on. At least I admit it.”

Dan jumped slightly as Phil brushed over his bulge, and Phil chuckled.

“I hate you,” Dan breathed as Phil palmed him, drawing a whine from Dan’s mouth.

“Mmh, doesn’t sound that way.”

Dan felt Phil messing with his own jeans, pushing them down his hips.

“Do you know how many people would love to be in your place right now, you ungrateful slut?”

Dan smirked. “Yeah, just about every thirteen year old girl in our school.”

Phil pulled Dan’s hair roughly, exposing his throat, and Dan couldn’t help letting a whimper escape him.

“You don’t get to speak to me that way,” he growled, and Dan could feel his hard on grinding against his ass. “Understand?”

Dan couldn’t help but moan, grinding back on Phil’s lap. “Yes sir,” he gasped.

Phil put his fingers to Dan’s mouth, and Dan took them obediently. He carefully covered them with spit before Phil pulled them out.

“I figure you don’t need stretching,” Phil muttered, smirking meanly. Dan just nodded, unable to think of a snarky comeback in that exact moment.

Dan felt Phil lining up, and then gripping his waist.

“Push back,” he breathed, pulling Dan back on his lap slightly. Dan moaned, pushing back on Phil’s cock completely.

He grinded back slowly, his eyes closed and whorish moans falling from his mouth nonstop.

“That’s it, baby, moan like a dirty fucking slut for me,” Phil groaned, biting down on Dan’s neck. “Such a good fucktoy, that’s it.”

Dan whined, letting out little gasps and “ah ah ah”’s as he bounced and grinded expertly, fucking himself on Phil’s dick. They seemed to have both forgotten anyone else was in the room, except for a faint prickle on Dan’s neck, the feeling of being watched, which was honestly turning him on even more.

Phil grabbed Dan’s wrists, pinning them behind his back and thrusting up into him roughly.

“Think you can cum without me touching you?” He asked huskily. “Because, that would be really fucking hot.”

Dan nodded almost immediately, speeding up his movements with a loud whimper.

“Fuck, daddy,” he gasped, and Phil practically growled.

“What a pretty toy, acting like such a slut for me, in front of all these people,” he whispered, meeting Dan’s hips with his own. “Everyone’s watching you, Dan, watching you call me daddy and fuck yourself on my cock. I bet you fucking love it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Dan whimpered. “Yes, daddy, god yes, l-love it.”

“Good boy.” Phil pulled Dan’s head back on his shoulder. “Now cum for me, princess.”

Dan let go with a loud continuous feminine moan, his hips twitching as he thrust forward automatically. Phil groaned, burying his face in Dan’s neck as he let go inside of him.

Dan slumped onto the carpet, completely fucked out, his eyes still closed.

“Jesus,” he breathed.

Phil was suddenly very aware of all of the people staring at them, and laughed.

“Hey, Charlie, I can use your shower right?”

The boy nodded slowly, still shocked into silence.

“Cool.” Phil grinned, scooping Dan up bridal style in one motion and standing carefully. “Uh, if you hear noises from the bathroom, you probably have rats and it’s totally not a second round.”

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

Masterlist linked in bio


If there’s one thing Y/n can’t stand, it’s pity. Which is unfortunate for her, considering that’s all she’s been receiving ever since Harry had broken up with her.

Between her family, her friends, and long-known acquaintances, the pity was never ending. The looks people gave her whenever she occupied a room made her sick to her stomach. Nobody looked at her the way they used to as if their perception of her has been altered from a beautiful, humble woman to a broken heart on legs.

Talking to people didn’t help much, either, considering their irrational fear that one harsh tone could wreck what’s left of her. To those, her identity and name have seemed to be forgotten, only to be replaced by “the girl left with a broken heart, who’s heart has failed to mend.”

It’s all a myth, really—a myth that hasn’t been confirmed or denied within the past four months. Y/n provided no reassurance for anybody, nor did she show any improvement since their break up. But she did try her best. Her attempts to answer the question, “how have you been, you know, since the breakup and all?” with an “I’ve been okay” filled with lies didn’t go unnoticed, however, proved to be unsuccessful.

And the pity only got worse when Harry got a new girlfriend.

It was plastered everywhere, the rumors that Harry’s new girlfriend stayed at his hotel in Los Angeles and traveled with him back to London. They disclosed that her name was Jessica, who works as a travel blogger.

She was beautiful, too. More beautiful than she wanted her to be, as selfish as it was. She was the perfect image for him, especially at the height of his career.

Y/n’s heart hit rock bottom that day. Every unblemished part of it became a ruin, a shattered piece of what was once so full and whole.

Y/n hadn’t expected it, not this fast, at least. When Harry initiated the breakup, he told her that it wasn’t the end of their relationship. He had promised her that with the right amount of distance, all the problems they’ve had in their relationship would be fixed entirely.

She believed him, too. That with maybe some time apart, their bitterness towards each other would decease, and all that would remain would be the overwhelming needs for one another.

She should have never been so gullible. After they broke up, they never spoke to each other again. All their ties had been cut, leaving them both hanging in completely separate lives. Y/n never got over him. How could she? They were soulmates, they were each other’s everything. No matter what came at them, they always found a way back to one another.

But Harry’s fame started skyrocketing, leaving Y/n on the ground with no way to reach him anymore. She should have known he’d find someone else—someone more worthy of his time. She just didn’t want to believe it and didn’t want to believe that it had happened so soon.

“How are you feeling?” Gabby asks, reaching over the wooden table so that her fingers can rest on top of Y/n’s hand; a small gesture that Gabby has been giving Y/n nearly every day for the past four months.

Y/n wishes she found it as comfortable as it intended to be, however she can’t help feeling worse whenever Gabby did so. The gesture undoubtedly derives from the pity Gabby has had toward her ever since the breakup. Everything was because of pity.

She looks down at her cold, untouched hot chocolate as she swirls the straw along the brim, resisting to roll her eyes as it’s the only question everybody has seemed to ask her recently.

“The usual,” she shrugs, “nothing’s really changed.”

Gabby gives her a half smile before returning to her tea. The cafe is only occupied by the both of them, considering it’s 7 in the morning on a Sunday. But after everything that’s happened, Y/n’s sleep schedule has been slacking and Gabby wanted nothing more than to be there for Y/n whenever she had the chance.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Gabby asks. “It’s on me if you want anything.”

Y/n shrugs again, a faint yawn falling from her mouth as she shakes her head.

“No, I’m okay. I think I’ll make some waffles when I get home. But I’ll need to stop at the grocery store before I leave. Ran out of milk and flour the other day.”

“We could stop by now if you’d like. I’m getting quite full, anyways.”

“Yeah, sure” Y/n nods, “sounds fine.”


The entrance doors chime when Y/n and Gabby enter the grocery store, barely any people filling the aisles at such hours. Neither of them speak much before they go their separate ways, grabbing all the necessary ingredients Y/n needs for when she gets home.

When she finds flour on one of the bottom shelves, Y/n bends down to grab the cheapest one she could find. In all honesty, she didn’t have a lot of money to spend since she took some time off of work for “mental health reasons,” and she wanted nothing more than to go back home and spend the rest of her day in bed.

When she stands back up from her squatting position, her body rams into somebody else’s, making everything they both were carrying fall onto the floor.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Y/n gasps, scrambling to pick up the ingredients that have fallen from the girl’s arms.

When Y/n stands back up to return her fallen items, it was as if every nightmare Y/n has ever had was standing right in front of her.

She’d recognize her face anywhere. It haunted her everywhere she went; mocking her and destroying every last bit of her wellbeing. Her face is unforgettable, having been ingrained into her head for so long now. She’s exactly how she is in her pictures, except she’s so much more beautiful in person.

It’s when Y/n’s eyes drift down to the shirt she’s wearing that takes the breath right from her lungs.

The word Lover printed inside of a red heart, the end of it hidden by the pocket right on her chest. It looked so unfamiliar on her—so unfamiliar that tears started piling in her eyes and her lips began to quiver.

That shirt was theirs. That shirt belonged to Y/n and Harry.

Lover.

It was a nickname Y/n always gave Harry. She would have normally settled for “babe” or “baby” like she did with her previous boyfriends, but “lover” came so naturally to her. It exemplified just how unique and rare their relationship was, too.

Harry had never been called that before, but there was something about it that felt so right. The first time she called him that, he blushed like no other. His cheeks and heart felt so warm, and Y/n wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. But no matter how much she joked about how much he blushed that night, it only made her call him that more.

And the more she said it, the more she realized that there was no other name to describe him.

She gave him the shirt for their first anniversary. She was insecure about it, considering it was the only gift she purchased him that year and wasn’t nearly as expensive as all the gifts Harry had given her. But after all the flowers she received had died months later, after all the chocolate he bought her had been eaten in two nights, after all the in-home spa treatments had been used by the both of them progressively throughout the months, and after all the sex they shared died down by the next morning, the only gift that remained so dearly to their hearts was that goddamn shirt.

The shirt became sentimental to their relationship and was almost used as a keepsake between the two of them. The mornings after making love, Y/n found herself slipping it on before rolling out of bed to make breakfast. Harry fell in love with her tendency to do so and always made sure she knew just how much he loved her for it.

This is my favorite look on you, he’d always say, where the shirt hung loosely from her frame and her skin scattered with the marks from his tongue.

Harry wore the shirt as a tradition, most commonly on their anniversaries or on any specific date that held such significance to their relationship. And every time Y/n saw him wearing it, she found it irresistible to kiss the heart designed right upon his chest.

My lover, she’d say, looks so perfect on you.

She never imagined anybody else in it. Even after they had broken up, she never thought the shirt would be passed down to later relationships Harry had with other women. When she moved out, he kept insisting that she should be the one to take it.


He looked down at the shirt all crinkled in his hands, the last compromise they had to make before Y/n officially moved out of their home. Her suitcases were packed neatly by the front door, the darkened sky from the storm waiting to approach making the house feel colder than it already had turned.

Y/n’s body was slumped against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes red with inevitable tears as they were forced to face the harsh reality of what was to come.

After three years of a relationship neither of them expected to end, Harry had insisted that they take a break from each other. With his career coming to its peak and Y/n spending most of her time in the office, their relationship was going through a rough patch that lasted far too long.

“You paid for this, you know,” Harry whispered, obstructing the silence that seemed to make the air around them thicker and harder to breathe, “this is yours, always has been.”

Y/n shook her head, a few loose tears falling from her face as she did so. In all honesty, she didn’t want to be reminded of it after this. It’s held so much meaning between the two of them throughout a majority of their years being together that she couldn’t stomach the thought of looking at it in her selection of wardrobe. Not when Harry won’t be by her side, not when Harry won’t be apart of her life anymore.

She placed her hand on top of his softly, stroking the knuckles of his clenched fingers with her thumb.

“It was ours. But when it comes down to it, I bought it for you. It was a gift, you should keep it.”

Harry clenched his fingers harsher against the fabric, his quivered lips attempting a small smile as he lifted it to his chest. His thumb traced the heart above the pocket, watching as one of his tears soak into the material.

“It looks better on you anyways.” Y/n tried to laugh through the silent cries, but neither of them had the heart to make light of the situation they were facing.

Harry’s eyes narrowed down at her while a small sigh fell from his lips.

“You know I’d never wear this again, right? Not until we find our way back to each other.”

Y/n’s shaken hands wiped the tears from her cheeks, her lips pursed together to ensure her broken sobs wouldn’t surface until she was alone in her car.

“Yeah, until we find our way back.”

She stood on her toes to reach his cheek, where she tentatively placed a kiss on the flushed skin.

“You’ll always be my lover.”


But looking back at it now, she wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a grocery store, crying pathetically in front of a complete stranger if she had just taken the damn thing.

How could he do this to me?

“Babe, are these eggs alr—“

Harry’s words get caught in his throat when he sees Y/n standing in front of Jessica with tears streaming down her face and cries shaking her body.

At first, his instinct is to reach his hand out to her. But as his eyes follow her tearful gaze to Jessica’s shirt, which is far too large for her frame, but still being worn on her body, the realization hits him that it’s probably the last thing she would want.

He flutters his eyes shut as an unbearable feeling starts to rise in his stomach. This is the most unfortunate time to see Y/n again, and he can’t imagine how much hatred flowing through Y/n’s system as he stands there, cowardly silenced.

Not a word comes out of his mouth. Not even a pathetic stutter of her name, or even a lift of his lips to greet her in the most minimal of ways.

The only thought swirling through Y/n’s mind is how could you not say anything to me? After everything you did, after what I’m witnessing now, how is there not one word to say?

He watches as pain settles in her eyes as she looks at him. It’s as if she’s begging for an explanation, or even an apology he doesn’t really mean. She’s just looking for something, and knowing that she’s not getting anything is taking all the remaining life out of her.  

But he has so much to say. There are so many apologies, so many thoughts all scrambling in his head that everything becomes incoherent. He wants to tell her how sorry he is, and how hard it is to live with himself after all that he’s done to her. He wants to tell her that he never gave her that fucking shirt, that Jessica found it in one of his drawers and put it on while he was still sleeping from the night before. He wants to tell her that it isn’t what it looks like, that it isn’t what everybody thinks this is. But his throat tightens and his tongue suddenly becomes numb, completely preventing him from saying all the things he wishes to say.

“Y/n, is everything alr—”

Gabby halts when she discovers Y/n’s crying body being watched by the very two people that broke her heart. She’s breaking, so evidently breaking and neither one of them are doing anything about it.

“I w—want to go home.” Y/n’s voice cracks, face twisting as Harry still doesn’t find anything to say to her. “Let’s just go home.”

If Gabby hadn’t witnessed her best friend go through so much pain within the last four months, she would have been able to contain all the rage she’s held toward Harry. But something inside of her snaps when she sees the shirt Jessica’s wearing.

“No!” Gabby spits.

Before anybody sees it happening, Gabby slams her fists against Harry’s chest. Jessica begins to scream while Y/n jumps in an attempt to remove Gabby’s wild arms away from him.

Harry doesn’t do anything to defend himself, though, as he allows her to keep swinging her arms at him. All he can think about it how much he deserves it—how much he deserves all of what’s coming at him.

“You’re such a fucking jerk, Harry!” Gabby roars. “You ruined her! Who the fuck do you think you are?!“

“Gab, stop.” Y/n mumbles, finally able to capture her arms.

Gabby squirms as she tries to escape Y/n’s harsh hold on her, but against Y/n’s anger mixed with all her overwhelming emotions, there is no match.

Y/n starts to push Gabby toward the doors, and it takes every bit of strength left in her to not turn around to look at him one last time. 

“You’re her biggest mistake! I hope you know that!”

Too Soon - Jeff Atkins Imagine

Jeff Atkins x reader

Request: Hi i was wondering if i could request 13 reasons why imagine where the reader and Jeff have been dating for a couple months or an year…maybe have smut like they made love and then where Jeff passes away and maybe have the reader visit the grave with clay and tony to tell Jeff..that he was a dad.

WARNINGS: Fluff, smut, small swearing


“Atkins!” I scream when I see my boyfriend in the hallway. I jump in his arms wrap my legs around his torso and kiss him as if I didn’t see him in months when in reality is was literally two periods ago. I’m cheesy like that. We’ve been dating for over a year now, but everyday feels like we started dating yesterday. He never seizes to amaze me. He surprises me with flowers and I still get anxious and excited like a little girl when we go out on dates. He still does things like climb through my window even though my parents basically forced a key on him. He even does things like come over at 2am when I joke about being scared. He’s just the best boyfriend in the world.

“Hey baby” he laughs as he kisses me back. “You ready to go”

“Yes, it’s Friday and I’ve never been happier” I slide my hand in his as we walk out the school building earning a ‘bye’ or ‘what up’ from people.

As we walked to my house, Jeff kept telling me corny jokes and pick-up lines he found online last night trying to make me laugh.

“Babe, knock knock?”

“Not another one J.”

“Baaabe knock knock, come on last one I promise.”

“You said that three jokes ago” I whine.

“Oh. Knock knock?”

“Who’s there?” I sigh.

“A broken pencil” he smiles.

“A broken pencil who” I sigh, already knowing the joke.

“Never mind it’s poin-”

“Pointless” I say as I laugh dramatically. He looks at me seriously for interrupting his corny joke. 

“Sorry baby, love you!” I try to kiss him the rest of the way home as he pretends to be mad at me.  

As we walk in, he stills pretend to be mad when he stomps into my room and close the door. He closes me out my room. My room.

“Babe really” I laugh.

“Do a knock knock joke then you can come in.”

“No”

“Yes”

“Noo babe”

“Well then I’m going to go take a nap”

“No!” I roll my eyes as if he can see it. “Fine babe…knock knock”

“Who’s there” he cooed.

“Al.” I smirk.

“Al who?” 

“Al strip for you if you open this door” I smirk biting my lip. As soon as I said that, the door swung open and I’m met with Jeff’s lips as he pulls me inside. He shuts the door and pushes me up against it. 

“No need to do that” he whispers in my ear. He starts kissing and sucking on my neck and pulls up the dress I’m wearing. He slides his hands under my underwear to my butt and pulls me to him.

“J-Jeff” I moan. He looks at me and bit his lip as he throws the dress off, leaving me in just my bra and panties. He scans my body as I turn my head, feeling nervous all of a sudden. He moves my head to face him and I see such admiration in his eyes.

“You’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” When he said that I wanted nothing more than to feel him on me. I throw my arms around his neck and hungrily kiss him. He grabs my legs and I jump on him as he moves us to the bed. He hovers over me as he deepens the kiss. He puts his hand behind my neck to pull me closer to him. He rubs my thigh up and down as he slowly peppers kisses all over my neck and chest. He’s painfully teasing and I can’t take it.

“Jeff” I whisper.

“Yes y/n?”

“I need you” he looks at me and simply smiles.

He continues to kiss my neck as he unclasp my bra. He starts sucking my breast and massaging the other as I run my hands through his hair. He does the same to the other and I’m a moaning mess.

“Jeff please” I moan.

“We’re almost there baby” he whispers.

He kisses down my stomach and thigh slowly, never breaking his stare from me. I whine again as he comes back and goes back to sweetly kissing me. I groan from the friction of my almost bare core against his jeans and wiggle for him to get the idea. He does and pulls off his jeans and I hastily pull off his shirt.

“Someone is ready” he giggles. I roll my eyes and roughly palm his member through his boxers making him grunt.

“Someone is hard” I mimic smirking. He tries to keep his groans in until I full on grab him and he does a full moan. Now he’s the frantic one as he rips my underwear off of me. Literally.

“Jeff!” I scream.

“Sorry baby, I’ll get you another one” he smirks. He slides his hands all over my body, making me shiver.

“You like that?” he asks. I nod as he slips a finger in me and goes back to kissing. I  whimper from his touch and go for his underwear. I push them down and his member springs out. He kicks them off and slides two fingers in this time. I moan into his mouth as he goes at a fast pace. I let out more moans as I start to get close.

“Jeff baby, I’m abou-” when I said that, Jeff pulled his fingers away and I frown. 

“I want to feel you cum, not with my fingers” he smirks.

He grabs a condom out his wallet from his pocket and slide it on. He gives me a look for confirmation and I nod, just wanting to feel him already. He pushes his length into me. At first it hurt, but it always does when we have sex because of his huge size. The longer he’s in me, the more I get used to it. He pushes in slowly and draws out a little. I start to moan as I connect my lips with his. As he picks up his pace, I dig my nails into his back. He hooks my legs over his shoulder and I scream a little.

“Je-OH My fuck!” he’s directly hitting my g-spot and I can’t even think. I moan louder as I grab the pillow under my head, arching my back. 

“Fuck princess! you feel good” he moans. 

“H-harder J-Jeff!” He goes harder and I start almost full on screaming. As we both are climaxing, Jeff pulls out and puts me on all fours. He pushes back in and grabs my breast from behind. I lean back as he kisses my neck while pounding into me. He moans into my ear as I hold the back of his neck. I can’t control my moans and screams and neither can he. They come out louder as he hits the right spot over and over again. As we get closer, I fall onto my hands and Jeff holds my waist. He roughly rubs me with his fingers as I scream to let go of my release.

“J-JEFF!” I scream.

He cums shortly after I do and collapse next to me. We lay there in a comfortable silence while I rest my head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around me. Both still out of breath, he looks over to me.

“Knock knock?”

“Who’s there” I laugh. 

“I love”

“I love who?” I say, letting him finish it this time for his sake.

“I love you” He smiles as he kisses me.

“My corny boyfriend” I laugh.


*Tomorrow Night*

“You guys have been inseparable all night my gosh” Jessica drunkenly laughs. Me and Jeff look at each other and chuckle, knowing exactly why. We have been at Jessica’s party for a while now and have been sitting on the couch with Jessica, Bryce, and Zach.

“Leave them alone babe, that’s how we are” Justin laughs.

“Oh, you get me flowers?” when Justin doesn’t answer, all of us start cracking up. 

“Well I’m going to get a beer, you guys want one?” Zach asks as he gets up. 

“Nah no thanks man, my girl will kill me cause I’m the driver tonight” I smile when he said that, happy that he cares about his well being. We continue talking to our group of friends and have a pretty good time.

“Where is Clay and Hannah” I whisper in his ear.

“Somewhere around here, probably upstairs, I did my meddling for the night and got them together.”

“Aw how noble of you” I giggle, pinching his cheeks. “Thank you ma’am”.

“See! look at them, they are perfect” Jessica playfully whines.

“Shut up!” Justin say as he grabs her face and start full on making out. Everyone starts ewing and shooing them off the couch.

“Get a room!”

“Jess, your room is upstairs!”

“Get it Foley!”

Justin flips us all off, never breaking their kiss and we all laugh. Monty taps Jeff on the shoulder and screams over the loud music.

“Yo bro you still doing the beer run!?”

Jeff got up and nodded his head, “Yeah shit I almost forgot”

I got up with him, frowning and grab his arm before he could go anywhere, “Babe do you have to go? I’m pretty sure there is enough beer, just not enough for every single person to get ass faced drunk.”

He kissed my forehead and smiled, “I’ll be right back babe I promise”. I pick up my bag and turn towards him, “Okay then I’m coming with you”.

“Baby, you have to watch out for Clay and Hannah remember, I’ll be back in 15 minutes then we can leave right after.”

I sigh still not liking this. I know he didn’t drink anything, but I’m still nervous for him to be out this late. What if someone else out there is drunk driving? I tell myself its fine and nod my head.

“Okay fine, just be careful J.”

“I will baby, I love you.”

“I love you too.” he gives me a peck on the lips and I hold onto his hand and let it slide out once he got to far to reach it. I watch him walk out the door and sit back down onto the couch, waiting for his return.


*4 Weeks Later*

Life is unfair. Life is so unfair. Why him? Why Jeff? Why my boyfriend. Such an amazing boyfriend. Is the best. Was the best. I stare down at his tombstone and couldn’t stop my tears from falling. So many tears. I found myself screaming at night. If I wasn’t screaming I was just silent. Completely silent. I mean was there for me to say? He’s gone. Jeff Atkins is gone. Never to hold me again, never to make me feel better, never to get me the flowers, never to throw rocks outside my window. I bend down and touch his stone. 

“I-I m-miss you so much” my voice cracks. “Why d-did you h-have to leave m-me?” I start crying harder. This is my first time being at his grave, due to the fear of seeing him. The fear of seeing reality of this situation. 

“Y-you would b-be so happy right now” I hiccup as I touch my stomach. I felt the little bump and smile through my tears.

“Y-you would have told him knock knock jokes” I laugh to myself, “or her”.

“Y-you would have t-taught baseball terms” I smile.

“You would h-have been the perfect dad” I cried looking down at him, “the best”.

I put the roses he always got me onto his grave and wiped my tears, even though they kept coming down. I kissed my finger and touched them against his stone that read 

Jeff Atkins

World’s greatest son 

world’s best companion

Even a better dad

Gone but never forgotten.

“I love you Jeff”I got up and continued crying as both Tony and Clay stood there respectfully and silent, waiting for me to finish. I smile lazily at them and hooked my arm into both of theirs as we walked out of the graveyard. I look back one more time and thought to myself ‘the love of my life might be gone, but he will forever live on in my heart’


A/N - Omgg!! I cried making this ending. It was so sad to me. I hope you guys liked it and love you guys for all your support. Your imagines are not forgotten.

Writing is Hard, part 6: SEX

Summary: Dean and the reader have sex. Finally. FINALLY.

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 4250ish

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. And the quotes are from my own Faking It series, in case anyone was curious. Hope you enjoy! (Sorry, tag list is closed!) XOXO


“You knew he didn’t quite understand why you found it so hot, but Dean had never seen himself leaning over the engine in a tight, sweaty t-shirt, hands and forearms covered in grease as he worked.”

Dean’s outside working on the Impala, and you’re reading fics about just that. Apparently, Dean working on the Impala is the hottest thing to ever grace the fandom (aside from his lips…and his green eyes…and his cocky swagger that is really just hiding adorable and unnecessary insecurity…and Jesus, these people are thorough), and you’re curious. In your actual experience with Dean, working on the Impala is just a nuisance. You have to wait longer to get on the road, Dean takes forever to scrub himself clean afterward, and for the next few hours, everything smells like metal and oil covered up by motel soap. Why do people find that so hot?

Keep reading

a friend like mine

 Summary: A discussion about a break up leads to….interesting revelations. || Sebastian x Reader || part 1 of 2

Warnings: discussion of kinks, [in the second part] —> smut and all that entails, thigh riding, choking, some other stuff but i’ll put it in the warnings for the next one

Note: :))))

Originally posted by buckynsebimagines

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Dating Stiles Stilinski Would Include

warnings: mentions of sex

- you and stiles are neighbors, but he didn’t really notice you much.

- that is until you hit a puberty stage in the seventh grade, and suddenly he was tripping over his feet crossing the street to your house. you were shocked when he asked if you wanted to ride bikes with him.

- but you said yes anyways cuz how could you turn down the adorable little spazz. 

 - you and Stiles became best friends easily in the one day, and overtime you him and Scott were a tight little group.

- scott asked you to your first dance in eighth grade, yes, scott. You’d looked between him and Stiles, and when the buzz cut boy said nothing, you said yes to scott

- no, Scott did not have a crush on you, nor you him, but you had a great time that night. though when a slow song came on, Scott made an excuse for punch and asked if you’d rather dance with stiles

- Stiles barely knew how to dance to slow songs, but you taught him. holding your arms around his neck, and his at your waist comfortably. and at one point you’d laid your head on his chest and made him promise you’d be best friends forever. he did without hesitation.

- in freshman year, it was painfully obvious that he was head over heels for Lydia Martin

- (or so you thought. that’s just what stiles wanted you to think)

- but your friendship continued nonetheless, and your growing feelings for the boy continued as well.

- the both of you always made witty remarks. as well as being on the same level of sarcasm. so the banter was great

- except to Scott, who was constantly worn out by it

- seriously. he always took out his inhaler whenever you two got into it

- you’d really pushed yourself to look for nice for homecoming that year.  You’d forced Scott to take you to the mall and critique each and every dress you tried on

- he told you nervously that you looked hot in the one you’d ended up picking, and you gave him finger guns

- STILES ASKED YOU TO DANCE

- you went with Scott and Stiles to the woods that fateful night, in hopes of seeing a severed body

- you and Stiles figured out together that Scott was a werewolf

- when he went to confront Scott about it, he made you stay at his house.  It turned into a nasty argument, which ended with him yelling that he wasn’t letting you get hurt in the process

- you made up easily.  It was you and Stiles.  Of course you did

- but you were with Scott and Stiles when Scott was chained up to the radiator, so that he wouldn’t go crazy on the full moon.

- you sat with Stiles in the hallway, both of you trying not to cry to the sound of Scott’s audible agony.  You saw your freckled friend close his eyes tight, and leaned your head onto his shoulder.  The action provided more comfort than you’d ever know

- the winter formal was a colossal disaster.  Scott snuck in, Stiles was with Lydia the whole night, Jackson was a jerk, you were left alone the entire night, and Lydia got attacked by Peter.

- you did comfort Stiles a little bit later that night in the hospital

- and you beat the shit out of Peter Hale with a baseball bat.  Which resulted in you getting scratched deep on your arm.  Scott Stiles and Allison took you to the hospital the second that Peter’s throat was slashed.  Scott taking Stiles’ keys and starting the Jeep, Allison rushing into the passenger’s seat.  Stiles was holding your nearly unconscious body in the backseat, letting you lay across his lap.  You didn’t really comprehend how hard he was crying

- you didn’t know that he slept in the waiting room for two nights in a row while you were under strict ‘family only’ visiting hours

- but he ran into the room the second Melissa allowed it.  You cried upon seeing him, weakly holding your arms out for him to hug you.  Your pain washing away as soon as he held you in his arms.

- you had to stay in one more night, and Stiles stayed again much to your protests, and he pulled up a folding chair in the room.  Sitting next to your bed and laying his head on the sheets.  He accidentally fell asleep before you did, so you spent half an hour just running your fingers over his buzz cut and thinking about the life you had.

- but don’t worry, the cut wasn’t deep enough to turn you into anything

- you and Stiles became messengers for Scott and Allison.  A tiring, yet sometimes fun job

- Stiles telling you all of his suspicions about Allison’s grandfather, Gerard

- as well as complaining about how cocky Jackson had become

- standing up for Stiles (and Scott when Jackson dared threaten a werewolf) whenever the little shit poked fun at him.

- he stood up for you too, because Jackson… well he was just a dick

- you became closer with Allison and Lydia, but your friendship with Stiles never faltered

- when Stiles found out that Matt was stalking both you and Allison, he flipped shit, and you were crying because you didn’t want him to know.  (because you knew he’d freak out

- Stiles didn’t tell you he punched Matt the next day

- you and Stiles laughed for a long time about how ironic it was that Jackson was the kanima.  I mean, come on, a lizard? Of course it was him.  Jackson’s a fucking snake.

- it got unfunny real fast at Lydia’s birthday party

- you had refused to drink, knowing someone had to have spiked it.  So you saw Stiles lose his mind in the middle of the party, and dragged him outside.  He kept mumbling on about disappointing his father, which made you cry.

- you and Stiles accidentally passed out spooning on Lydia’s couch that night

- the night at the train station still freaks you out.  First Matt tried to get you to join him, and when you’d told him to fuck off, he had Jackson the kanima paralyze you.  Your limp body was tied to a chair for the entire night, and you had to watch him pull a gun on Stiles, and shoot Scott.  

- you later caught Gerard drowning him when you’d been heading home.  You’d grabbed Stiles’ hand so fast, unsure of what to do.  Yes, the boy needed to be punished, you surely didn’t want him to have a happily every after… but he was so afraid and in so much pain.

- you Stiles and Scott picked a lot of classes together over the summer

- Stiles began to grow his hair out, which you supported more the longer it got

- also had a summer road trip to San Diego for a weekend.  Big back to school shopping spree

- you were nervous going back to school after the shitty way last year ended, but Stiles constantly assured you that it would all be okay

- you complained to him constantly about the awkwardness of being friends with both Scott and Allison, and how you barely mentioned one around the other.   

- “but I’m your best friend, right?” to which you’d eagerly nodded to

- groaning the second Scott told you about the alpha pack.

- “can’t i catch a break!?”

- you and Stiles catching a quick two second flicker in Scott’s eyes, shifting from brown to yellow, to red, then back to yellow.  You exchanged a glance that said you’d talk about it after fighting the alpha pack.

- you getting closer with Isaac, and sitting with him on the bus ride to the motel
(you didn’t know Stiles was pestering Scott as to why you’d choose to sit next to a boy who wore scarves that looked like scarves that you would buy.  But Scott was in too much pain to care about his friend’s love life problems)

- you had known all along Lydia and Allison were trailing the bus, because Lydia was snap chatting you about how Allison was so still in love with Scott.  While you were snap chatting her about your Stiles problems

- when you stopped at a rest stop so Allison could stitch up Scott, you were freaking out outside the bathroom, but Lydia and Isaac had no idea how to comfort you

- Stiles had rushed over and held you in his arms, cradling your head against his chest and cooing softly to you.

- “you’re okay, and you know Scott will be okay, don’t worry too much then others will wonder what’s going on in there” 

- after that, Isaac sat with Scott the rest of the bus ride to the motel, and you sat with Stiles

- most of the night, Stiles made you stay in his and Scott’s motel room because weird things were happening.  He’d told you to stay in there after Ethan tried to cut open his stomach with a saw

- “Stiles you know I can handle myself fine-”

- “I know you can, I do, but this is different, they have no idea what’s going on either so I need you to just stay in here, and stay safe

- you’d listened, and ended up falling asleep on the bed waiting for someone to return

- you woke up when the door opened, a soaking Scott and exhausted Stiles dragging in.  Stiles asked if you were staying with them instead of the girls tonight, and you’d nodded limply.

- after Scott got in the shower, Stiles collapsed onto the mattress next to you, mumbling ‘we’re sharing a bed by the way’ and you’d only nodded

- you restrained from screaming when he told you what had happened that resulted in Scott being drenched in gasoline.  The thought of Stiles… him being gone… it killed you.  But you didn’t say anything, just snuggled up against him and fell asleep in his arms.  It meant more than words could’ve said

- you sat with him on the bus the next morning too.  He didn’t wake you up when you left, just carried your sleeping body out to the bus and gave you his flannel to use as a blanket

- you woke up next to him relatively happy upon finding the clothing on you and your head on his shoulder, his head atop yours as he played on his phone

- you were taken with Melissa Chris and Noah, because you’d figured out that Jennifer was the darach, and what her next move was.  You were on your way to warn Stiles when she’d caught you

- you were trapped in the nemeton, but you still just had this feeling in you that Scott became an alpha.  You’d later learn that it was because in a way, without being a werewolf, you were his beta

- when Stiles got you and his father back, the group hug between you three was so tight you cried harder

- he called you the second he started getting night terrors

- and soon Noah began to just come pick you up and bring to the house in the middle of the night because you were the only one who could get him to stop screaming

shh Stiles, it’s not real I promise” you laid down next to him, pulling the covers over both of you. When Stiles shakily nodded, laying down with you, Noah left the room.

“It’s not real” He’d repeat over and over.

- you always stayed on your respective sides of the bed

- you helped Allison get her stability back in the woods, and helped Stiles get his ability to read back

- it took you stepping on a bear trap for it to happen, but hey! he did it!

- Stiles told you first about his dementia

- you were as calm as possible, hugging him and telling him it’d be okay, not shedding a tear

- you went straight to Scott’s and screamed and cried and beat up his chest with your fists in anger, eventually falling to the ground in defeat and exhaustion

- you felt as numb as Stiles looked

- you went with him and Scott to the hospital for the MRI, the three of you group hugging when it was all over

- Trying not to cry.  A lot those days.  Mostly not in front of Stiles, so you ended up crashing on the McCall living room couch and taking over Allison’s bed.

Maybe you should go talk to Stiles, I think you guys need some closure with each other”

“Scotty, I love you, but that would just end with me telling him I love him and there’s enough shit already”

and

“Stiles, you can’t just sit next to her anymore.  You gotta tell her it’s all going to be okay.  You’re little game of ‘we don’t need words’ can’t last forever”

“Scotty, I love you, but that would just end with me telling her I love her and there’s enough shit already”

- You eventually broke.  Like a twig actually.  You’d been sitting on his bed, messing around on your phone when he told you that he was going to admit himself to Eichen.

Are you insane? Did you actually lose your mind?!”

“y/n… maybe they can help…”

“Why can’t we help?!”

“Professional help y/n”

- You cried a lot, too much, you got tears and makeup all over his favorite flannel.  But he didn’t care, he was just glad you finally showed some emotion

- You went with him Scott and Noah to the hospital.  You stood silently with them as he checked in, holding his hand so tight you wondered if he was in any pain.  But he didn’t show any

- You didn’t let go until he hugged Scott and his father goodbye.  Noah excused himself to go ‘start the car’ and Scott ‘offered to help’

(they shipped you two hard)

- Stiles giving you the biggest bear hug and lifting you off the ground.

Just promise not to die in here, this place reeks of depression and I’m not even a werewolf” 

“I promise.  I’m coming back okay?”

- holding his face between your hands and wiping away the tears (he was trying not to let show) with your thumbs

I’m holding you to that promise”

- two days later not being able to take it anymore.  Lydia had offered a million times to conceal the bags under your eyes, and Allison offered a million times to take you shopping.  Kira even invited you over for a sleepover.

- Scott being the only one who wasn’t pushing you to do anything.  

- in fact he was the one who drove you to Eichen to give Stiles his pillow

I’m sorry ma’am, he can’t have visitors yet-”

“Tough shit”

- Scott being surprised when you pushed past the nurse and waltzed towards Stiles’ room because you were usually so calm and collected in public, and never disrespectful towards your elders

- Swiping a key card off of a passing orderly, and pretty much sneaking into Stiles’ little chamber that was hardly an actual warm

- Your heart broke when you looked at him.  His eyes were dark, there were pink bags under them, and his skin was much paler than usual

y/n? Scott? How’d you guys even get in?”

- being tugged into a hug that made you feel like home wasn’t a place anymore

- he smiled when you showed him that you’d brought his pillow

Stiles… what did they do to you?”

- your reunion was short lasted, and you were being dragged out by a male nurse named Brunski

Wait- y/n-!”

“Stiles!”

“I’m gonna get out soon!”

- hearing him yell those same words over and over as Brunski kicked you and Scott out of the building

- wearing Stiles’ lacrosse hoodie for the next few days, waiting for him to come back

- When Noah picked him up, he brought him straight to your house, again, shattering your heart at his clearly unstable persona

- He told you first that he’d known Void had taken over

- You both sat on your bed for a long time, criss cross in the middle of the mattress just talking over everything that happened

- He was crying by the time he got to the part about Void making him have sex with Malia (which he never really knew if it was Void..or him…) and kill his room mate Oliver

I’m a killer I’m a killer y/n I belong there I’m a psycho”

“No.. no Stiles that’s not you, that’s the demon it’s not you”

- He broke down a few times that day, and you had him lay his head in your lap so you could softly run your hands through his hair.  He fell asleep mumbling something about voices

- You called the pack quickly and had them come over

- BIG pack meeting (while Stiles was asleep in your room) about what you were going to do

y/n what if he takes over and you- or or- or anyone- what if someone gets hurt?”

“You’re not going to hurt me Stiles”

- having that conversation a lot

- in school just grabbing onto his hand when he’d get quiet, in the halls at lunch, in class

- whenever you were separated, texting him constantly

you: how do you feel?
Stiles: idk lonely
you: you’re in bio right?
stiles: yeah
you: I’m on my way over tell the teach you’re goin to the bathroom

- this happened many many times in a single day

- seriously his teacher began to ask if he had some bladder infection

- the day Stiles Void was in Derek’s loft was a hard day for you.  Watching Chris pull a gun on the boy made you scream, but before you could go up to the Man, Derek had pinned your arms behind your back

- it hurt more seeing Void smirk upon the action

oh your little spazz is so pissed right now.  he’s quite angry with you Derek” The demon chuckled louder when everyone exchanged confused glances.  “Well, you’re hurting y/n”

- you officially became afraid of Void when Allison had attempted to taser him, and it had no effect on him.

- you hid behind Scott while he was tied to the chair

“he’s so upset y/n, he’s upset that he’s the one scaring you”

- you moved further behind Scott, gripping onto the Alpha’s arm and burying your face into his back

oh this is new… jealousy.  he’s not a happy camper”

- you silently thanked Melissa when she put a thick duct tape over his mouth

- watching him pull foot after foot of rope from his throat horrified you in a way that will haunt your nightmares for many years to come

it’s me guys, I swear it’s me”

- beating Scott to it, and both you and Stiles crashing onto the ground in a hug.  You cried into his neck, your body crushing his chest.  His arms wound around you and he cried too

- you stuck next to him in the McCall living room while everyone else came up with the plan to get Lydia back from Void

you’re okay now?”

- he’d responded by putting his head on your shoulder, and taking your hand in his

I’m here to save my best friend”

“And I’m here to save mine”

- Scott had looked at you, prompting you to say what everyone (minus Stiles) knew you were here for (to save the boy you loved) but you’d only nodded, too afraid in the moment to say anything

- you’d screamed, nearly louder than Lydia upon seeing an Oni pierce a blade through your Argent friend

- Stiles had grabbed onto you so fast, holding your face against his chest as you were still screaming, body convulsing against his.

- he ended up having to pick you up off the ground, while Scott was with Allison.  He carried you to the jeep, and you sat in silence with him in the backseat

- Chris took you both with him, Scott, Isaac, and Lydia to the police station to *cough* explain the death of Allison Argent

- Noah let you stay silent, seeing how much deeper it was  effecting you

- the man took you with him and Stiles home for the night

- you barely slept, you just laid in bed across from Stiles, who was holding both your hands between his

It’s my fault, I did it to her-”

“Stop, you didn’t, you know you didn’t”

- you were already out of tears, the entire void experience had drained you, so you were mostly in silence.  But here and there Stiles would say something to you

Do you hate me?”

“Of course not”

- he asked this a few more times that night, until eventually you leaned up, and kissed his cheek, then buried your face into his shirt, whispering a soft ‘no’ before finally falling asleep

- you were pissed when he held the sword to his chest, the stupid boy thinking that it would help everybody

Stiles don’t, Stiles don’t please, please don’t, drop it Stiles please”

- when he’d dropped it, you’d wrapped both arms around his waist, and didn’t release the entire night

- you freaked when he passed out after void turned to dust

- but when he woke up, you were more relieved than you’d ever been before

- the both of you went together to get clothes for Allison’s funeral

Is this one okay?” you would ask softly

“I think it’s beautiful”

“Stiles you said that about the last four”

- your hand was wrapped in his throughout the entire ceremony

- and after, you him Scott Lydia and Kira went to the McCall house, just wanting to grieve together

- it took you a few weeks to find actual peace, but Stiles was there with you through all of it

- but the day Stiles came to your doorstep an eager and boyish grin on his face as he told you Malia Tate (a girl who’d quickly become your friend) was his girlfriend, you’d lied to him for the first time

good for you Stiles, I’m glad you found someone who made you happy”

while on the inside it was more like…

“that’s great Stiles, not like I had my fucking heart on my fucking sleeve for you.  glad that you found someone who’s better than me”

- but he was smiling so happily, you couldn’t tell him the truth

- Scott chewed you out for lying, Kira chewed you out for not telling Stiles you loved him, and Lydia chewed you out for not jumping Stiles’ bones when you’d had the chance

- and every time there was some sort of opportunity for you to say something to Stiles, Scott would give you a look, or Lydia would kick you under the table, or Kira would cough.  Sometimes all three

- but you were somewhat friends with Malia.  and you were friends with Stiles.  So you let them have their relationship, and you slowly grew away from Stiles

- you became closer with Liam, a new beta, and his friend Mason

- you loved Mason

Scott, Scott who’s that kid she’s talking to? Since when did she go for freshmen?”

“Stiles, he’s gay, and you have a girlfriend”

- you didn’t know this, but every time Scott reminded Stiles of his girlfriend, he did it bitterly.  

Is uh… is Stiles and Malia going okay?”

I dunno why don’t you ask”

- Scott became a very bitter person when either of you brought up the other.  But Lydia would back him up with something snarky

- when in Mexico, watching Stiles let Malia dance dirty with him, went right on the list of things that would haunt your dreams.  Which sucked, seeing that being stalked, attacked, and your best friend being murdered was on the same list

- you ended up getting yourself strapped to an electric chair, and Scott took most of the blows, but you got one for mouthing off to the Calevera’s henchman

- Stiles had screamed your name when you were released, your spasming body falling to the ground.  But Lydia had gotten to you first, and Stiles just stood and watched as she held you and asked if you were alright repeatedly

I-I-I-I’ll b-b-be al-alright” 

- when the spasming ended, she helped you up, and Stiles couldn’t tear his eyes off you

- he’d never been jealous of Lydia before, but her arm around your waist as she walked you back out to the jeep seemed threatening to him

- you sat in the backseat on the ride home (the day was interesting… a young Derek being in the backseat and weird bone men attacking Kira and Malia.  Not to mention the Calevera’s torturing you) Scott and Kira were on his bike following the Jeep.  Malia in  your  the passengers- seat.  And you were wedged between the younger version of Derek Hale, and Lydia on your other side

- young Derek was hitting on you, and you just let it happen.  What? you liked the way Stiles would glare at the teen through the rear view mirror

- you’d gone with Scott Malia and Peter to the school for the Hale loft, and ended up getting attacked by Berserkers

- Stiles came to pick you guys up, and yelled at you for going.  you’d stayed silent, not wanting to break the friendship you were painfully keeping up.

- Scott took you home on the motor bike, and when he dropped you off he asked you how much it was hurting you before you went to the door

I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“I know when you lie, y/n”

“Then it seems to me you knew the answer when you asked the question”

- and when he heard your voice crack before you walked away, he did know the answer.  more certain this time anyways

- you went to Lydia’s party, before it was a party anyways, and the blonde freshman lacrosse player, was hitting on you all.  night.  At one point he had himself leaning against you, both arms caging you against the wall.

Alright, really, you’re nice, but you’re too young for me and I’m not interested-”

“Come on babe, age is just a numb-”

“She said she wasn’t interested”

- your has had widened impossibly further when Stiles had pried the boy off of you 

go screw your actual girlfriend Stilinski” was all the boy said

- but thankfully he had left after that

- you’d exchanged a glance with Stiles, and he’d asked quietly if you were alright.  You nodded, thanked him, then excused yourself to find Lydia

- you told Lydia everything that happened in the last twenty minutes

- the entire pack spent the night at the lake house, even Liam did, spending most of the time talking with Scott about what being a werewolf meant

- the same blonde boy, Garret, tried to kill you a week later, to which you’d hit him over the head a few times with a bat before sprinting through the almost empty school, finding Scott, who told you the other girl, Violet had tried to kill him for being a werewolf

I’m on the deadpool”

- the realization meant you weren’t as human as you thought.  you’d said this at the pack meeting, and for some reason, your eyes were locked with Stiles’.  before Malia pulled his attention back to her

- so you went from researching with Stiles, to researching with Lydia

- you found out that you were a witch.  not the broomstick kind, but the kind with telekinesis.  You figured that the bite triggered it in you, but never really proved that theory

- so you did some training with Liam, both of you learning about your powers together since he was still trying to get the hang of the werewolf thing

- but you still missed Stiles miserably, and Lydia was the one who seemed to notice the most

y/n i love you, but you’re miserable.  All the time”

- and she was right

- so one night, on a total whim at 10 pm, you drove yourself over the Stilinski house hold to talk to Stiles.  Maybe tell him your true feelings, or just talk, because he had to notice the change in your relationship, right?

- but fate was against you that night.  your car got a flat tire, which lead to Kate kidnapping you and dragging your sorry lover ass to Mexico

- Stiles lost his freaking mind

- when the pack (+ a shady ass Peter) came to get you, Scott was long turned into a berserker

- and when he broke free from the curse, Peter revealed his true intentions, and knocked you out with one blow

- you woke up to a lot of movement, and barely opened your eyes to see Stiles carrying you, yelling that you were going to be okay over and over again

- you just smiled a little bit, and leaned into him as he brought you to the jeep

- he let you sit in the passenger’s seat on the ride home

- Lydia hugged you tight, and screamed at you for having a death wish

- you her Malia and Kira had a sleepover, where you might have had some drinks and maybe proclaimed your love for Stiles

- but Malia was actually cool with it

- you forgot all about it the next day

- that summer, all of you went to San Diego together, and promised each other to make it a tradition

- senior year was gonna be bad, and it was all Stiles would talk about.

I mean Theo? he seemed really shady don’t you think y/n? Don’t you think?”

“no, I think you mean to say he seemed dreamy

- you didn’t know how much more shady that made Theo seem to Stiles

- you opened up with him more though.  your friendship was still mending back together, but at least he no longer ignored you

- Theo made his advances on you, and when he asked oyu out, you’d happily said yes

- when you told Stiles, he made a face

what? I thought it was sweet”

“well I think he has other plans.  why else would he ask you out?”

- Stiles immediately realized his mistake

wow Stiles.  so what reason would a guy ask me out if he wasn’t trying to use me?”

- there were tears in your eyes as you stormed out of the house, ignoring Stiles as he yelled after you

- you went on your date with Theo, and he was a real gentleman

- you made big deals about kissing in front of Stiles

he reeks of jealousy”

“that’s not jealousy Theo, that’s just anger.  and that’s what we’re going for”

- after two weeks of this, you were trapped in your room on a school night, reading up on chimeras when there was a knock on your front door.  you didn’t expect Stiles to be standing there

we need to talk”

“if this is about Theo, then go home Stiles because-”

“I don’t care about Theo, I did something bad y/n”

- you’d quickly ushered him in, and upstairs to your room

- he began to cry, and you rubbed his back comfortingly, throwing all your past conflicts out the window, just wanting the boy whom your heart ached for to feel safe here

- you weren’t expecting him t tell you that he’d killed Donovan, but you sure weren’t mad at him like you thought he’d be

you don’t hate me?”

“no” you answered softly

- you had a movie night together, and for a few hours, it seemed great, pocorn fights, for a whole Star Wars film you’d even slept on his shoulder

- you were woken up by Stiles getting up, and cleaning the area

you can stay the night if you want, my parents aren’t home”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Malia’s probably already waiting for me at home, and I don’t think your boyfriend would like me staying over night with you”

- surprisingly, his voice wasn’t dripping with sarcasm, or bitterness, but with reget, and a sad undertone.  you’d nodded, and followed him to the door as he put on his shoes and jacket

- you told him to get home safe, and he pulled you in for a hug that you hadn’t had in so long that just… replenished your well being

- Theo was a lying, bitchy, manipulative, jerk

- Lydia was admitted into Eichen

- Liam hated Scott

- Kira was with skin-walkers

- Stiles broke up with Malia

- and you were broken

“you were right you were right” you cried to Stiles on his doorstep in the pouring rain.  “I should’ve listened you’re always right”

“Shh..shh come inside”

- he wrapped you up in blankets and towels until your body stopped shaking, and you broke down to him, just like you had both done before.  You told him how you missed Lydia and Kira, how Malia wasn’t talking to you (to which he said ditto) and how Scott steered clear of everybody

- you fell asleep in his arms

- it was difficult, but the two of you had managed to cinch the pack back together, enough to kidnap Kira, and plan to save Lydia

- Theo’s pack seemed to have plans for her too, and you ended up getting held hostage by Theo in Eichen

- Scott and Stiles found you, his claws to your throat

- and you’d never seen Stiles so furious

- Scott ended up kicking ass, and you were thrown into Stiles’ arms

- YOU SAVED LYDIA!!!

- the pack barely did it but they escaped, and all went to Deaton’s where the emissary and Scott Kira and Malia stayed in the operation room to help Lydia

- you went to sit outside on the curb of the vet, needing frfesh air to clear your mind

- Stiles followed you and sat beside you

I was really freaked out tonight… when..uh.. when Theo had you”

“Trust me, I was to” You managed a soft laugh, and glanced over at him.  His eyes were stuck down on his shoes.

I didn’t like the thought of… of you being gone… or something” Stiles added in a weak voice.  Again, you smiled a little bit at him.

I’m not going anywhere Stilinski, you’ve got nothing to worry about” You put your hands into the pockets of the hoodie (the red one you’d stolen from Stiles earlier that night)

yeah but… but what if something did”

“Stiles” You turned to him.  “I’m fine, really, I don’t have a single cut, I’m okay, you don’t have to worry so much-”

- Stiles Stilinski had cut you off, leaning forward, cupping your cheeks, and kissing you for the very first time.  It was a long, warm, and very passionate kiss

y/n, I do have to worry… I-I love you-”

- you cut him off, holding his own face in your hands, leaning forward, and kissing him for the very second time in a needy, emotions displayed kiss

I love you too Stiles”

- you had a few happy tears in your eyes as you two kissed a few more times, only slightly aware of the pack watching you through the windows of the building

- you pretended not to notice Kira giving Scott thirty bucks

- Stiles drove everyone home, dropping you off last and trailing you to your doorstep

- he promised you that when all the Dread Doctor business was over, that he’d take you on a real date, to which you nodded, and kissed him quickly on the tips of your toes, before saying goodnight and heading inside for the night

- you high fived Stiles when Theo was dragged to the pits of hell, and that very night, went out on your first date

- it was a picnic at the overlook in the Beacon Hills Preserve, and it was beautiful.

- lots of kisses

- a really lot

- his hand was wrapped around yours as he drove you home, and as always, he stood with you at your door

I’m not usually one for taking boys home after a first date, but my parents aren’t home and I don’t wanna wait anymore”

- the infamous Stilinski smirk as you were pressed against the door in a matter of seconds, and familiar warm lips sealed yours

- the sex was nothing less of hot

- neck kisses, you weren’t surprised Stiles loved hickeys

- he let you set the pace, and asked you for consent five too many times

- the look on his face was priceless when you snapped on the sixth time, and you’d told him to shut up and fuck your brains out

- (but hey, he did just that)

- and after you fell asleep together, him on his back and your front pressed into his side, your head on his bare chest and falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat in your ear

- lazy morning sex

- then shower sex

- then he made you breakfast, and you giggled half way through eating it

what?”

“oh nothing, I’m just surprised you haven’t thrown me onto the table yet”

“well I was waiting for you to finish eating”

- he wasn’t lying.  *clears throat and sputters*

- you applied for a lot of colleges together.  but here and there you’d come across one that seemed good for you, but would be far from Stiles.  You applied, on the off chance you even had the ability to get in, but didn’t tell him about the ones in New York, or Tennessee.

- you told Lydia, because you couldn’t just keep it to yourself.  There was a certain hype that came with college applications.  Lydia hated keeping secrets nowadays, but promised not to tell.  You never questioned her loyalty

- but one day you were telling her and Malia about a university in Maine called Colby.  How great it seemed, but how you had other options that would keep you and the pack closer to Beacon Hills.  You may have gotten a little vocal about the situation.

You want to go to school in Maine?” you’d whirled around so fast upon the voice of your boyfriend.  Lydia and Malia ran off as soon as you were looking away.

“N-no-”

“But you applied there?” Stiles asked, his voice a prime example of broken.

“Yes- but I didn’t- it was more of a wonder really” You felt guilty immediately.  “Stiles I didn’t want to.. I wasn’t- it was just-” You stopped trying to talk to take a deep breath.

Do… do you still want the vision?” He asked, stepping closer.  Your hands wrapped around his forearms.

“Of course I do Stiles, I want that with you” You said.  “I mean it, I want that” He nodded, eyes flickering to the ground with uncertainty.  “Stiles I love you, and the idea of going to college with you… maybe rent an apartment or something, really starting our.. our future? You held onto him tighter, and he looked at you.  “That excites me and frightens me at the same time okay?” He nodded.

- dramatic kisses

- everywhere.

- all the time.

- sometimes in lunch after a particularly difficult day in class, you’d wrap both arms around one of Stiles’, and lay your head on his shoulder in a half nap.

- but other days he’d have an arm around your waist, or your hands would be intertwined on one of your legs, or on the table.

- pushing him to take his class picture

y/n, I already took it”

“Uhm, no you didn’t Stiles.  There’s no photo here”

- Stiles argued with you for a bit bout, until you ended up dragging him to get his picture taken, again.

- Malia and you became really close friends, like connected at the hip kind of close.  It surprised everyone, but it made you happy.  Friends were important to keep close in this town

- Stiles called you later that night.

Baby what’s wrong it’s one am?” You’d mumbled upone answering.

“I-I saw- I saw them” His shaky voice replied.

Saw who Stiles?” You asked, sitting up in bed now.

“The ghost riders” 

- you went to his house to spend the night, and talked for a long time about what it all meant.  You fell asleep crying in his arms, and him cooing and hushing you while running his fingers through your hair.

- the next day at school you’d clung to him like crazy

- he was taken that night, you’d been sitting in the jeep with him, holding onto him so tightly you were sure it would be impossible for anyone to get him.  He’d repeatedly told you he loved you, anything he could.

y/n please try-”

“I couldn’t ever forget you Stiles” You said, crying hard as tears blurred your vision.  “I love you, I love you so much you’ll never know.  I want everything with you, I still do, I want us to go to college together, Stiles I wasnt to spend the rest of my life with you” You sobbed, and he held you tight, and leaving bruising kiss on your lips.

“I want that too y/n, I want that too” Your arms wound around his neck, holding him closer as his head was buried into your neck.

- you still cried in the jeep even after he was pried away from you, and dragged out through the door.


hehehehe this is sooo long I’ve had this in my drafts for months.

anywho here’s somethin a lil extra to just top off my excitement for being back on tumblr again

NHL!Bitty, Part IX - ‘Loose Lips Sink Ships’

(Alright, you guys voted for #2, so enjoy!)

Eric gets hit on in a hotel bar during All-Star weekend. For the first time in a long time, it’s not because he’s a famous hockey player.

It would be very flattering, except the man trying to seduce him works for Jack’s PR firm, and bro is playing fast and loose with some seriously confidential information. 

NHL!Bitty Masterpost!


It’s been a long, exhausting day. Between the flight, check-in, the press junket, the photo ops, all Eric wants is to get a little bit drunk with the guys, grab some dinner, and fool around in Jack’s hotel room. Hopefully in that order, but he’s open to fooling around whenever.

He must have a dopey smile on his face thinking about the debauchery he’s been looking forward to all week when he realizes someone is watching him from across the bar. 

Tall, nice hair, professional, and he’s looking at Eric, no, at the empty chair next to him. And he’s walking over. 

“Is this seat taken?”

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Whisper

Summary: Nat does everything in her power to finally get you and Bucky together. 

Warnings: This is pretty much all smut: unprotected sex (please use protection), thigh riding, oral (m receiving), praise kink (kinda?). i think that’s it, let me know if you find anything else

Words: 3.4k

A/N: I finally wrote something! I have a few more pieces in the works now too. Sorry I haven’t been writing as much, but I am trying to work on that. Hope you enjoy. Send me requests here. 

Masterlist 

Originally posted by musicfixyou

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Whiteboard. Destiel, canon!verse, 1.3k. 
When you fail to say the words, there’s always the option to write it down.

For a while now, there has been a whiteboard in Dean’s room.

Cas often sees Dean use it; to organize clues for cases that he and Sam can’t quite solve, and to write down reminders, or to simply rearrange his thoughts. And, on rare occasions, to draw silly doodles to help him get his mind off of whatever supernatural disaster is next on the agenda.

Currently, aforementioned board is empty though, and Cas stares a hole in it, sitting on Dean’s bed, arms wrapped around his knees, his chin resting on his hands. Dean is there too, right beside him, lying on the other side of the bed, his back to Castiel, his shoulders tense. There might as well be some sort of invisible wall between them, and Cas absolutely hates it. Hates it whenever they fight like this, and what makes it even worse is that Dean refuses to talk. Whenever they have an argument he’ll snap at Castiel, once maybe twice, but after that, it’s usually the silent treatment.

And it makes Castiel feel powerless every time, because how can you fix something when you don’t even get a chance to plead your case?

Dean isn’t sleeping, Cas can tell from his breathing, harsh and uneven. Which must mean that Dean doesn’t like this either, and just like that, inspiration strikes.

“Dean?” Cas mutters quietly, but not unkindly.

A grunt from the other side of the bed.

“I know you’re angry, I know you’d rather not talk, but I thought that maybe…” Castiel pauses, trying to figure out which words to choose. “I thought that maybe we could write it down.”

There’s a huff from Dean, and Cas doesn’t know what to make of that, but he refuses to give up now. Slowly, he gets up from the bed, shuffling towards the whiteboard. He picks up one of the markers, a blue one, and starts writing.

He hears Dean move on the bed, probably getting up as well, and that’s what Cas had been counting on; Dean’s curiosity getting the best of him.

When Cas is done he puts down the marker, his eyes scanning the message one last time.

‘I apologize for what I did yesterday, I’m sorry I went after those rogue angels by myself without telling you. I didn’t want you to get dragged into my problems, and I feared it wasn’t safe for you to come with me. Which you would have, had I told you before I left.’

He hears a muffled sigh behind him, and he’s surprised to see Dean already standing right there. Dean rolls his eyes as he reads the message, but his face relaxes, and the green of his eyes is softer now. After a long moment, he theatrically picks up a marker as well, the green one, giving Castiel that face that says 'do we really have to do this?’

But Dean does it anyway, and writes a reply, the Dean Winchester way that Cas knows so well.

'I want you to drag me into your problems, you idiot, it’s not like I don’t drag you into mine. PS: you forgot to apologize for the part where you almost got killed. PPS: fine, apology accepted. Don’t ever do that again.’

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Ink and Kisses

Anon said to moi:

“Omg i want a tattoo artist jungkook!!!!!! 😭😩 smut/fluff/and honestly anything!!!! I just love tattoos artists jungkook but there aren’t alot of those fanfic…. can u help a poor girl out ??💖”

FIRst time trying a Tattoo artist AU. I had to do some reading before this, and JK is sO sexy i s2g. Still weird that I don’t really ever feel like doing the do with him. HOPE YOU ENJOY <3 1,400 Words

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Tattooist au!

Part 1 | Part 2 (FINAL)

Originally posted by nnochu

No one would have ever imagined that hardcore badass Jeon Jungkook, the most well-known tattoo artist in the town, the guy who dropped out to follow his passion, was best friends with beautiful, sweet, top-scoring university student, Y/N. 

Physically, they seemed to be polar opposites. He had dragons inked onto his skin, three piercings on his left ear and two on his right, and always wore black; whilst you were a bright, clean slate – but you knew that was what he loved about you.

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You’re My World.

Originally posted by v-writings

Peter Parker x Reader

Request: Yes

Summary: Peter gets hurt during a mission and the reader is there to help comfort him.

Word Count: 2,265 (I got carried away)

Warnings: Language, fight, blood, injuries, knives, hurting!Peter, comforting!Reader, fluffy fluff, sad stuff, so much cheesiness. (Let me know if I missed any). 

A/N: For the anon that requested this, here you are m'dear! I hope you like it! I’m shit at bad ass fight scenes (really everything), but I tried. Feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy reading!


Walking into the conference room to discuss the mission a few hours ahead, the team is already seated.

Noticing a chair between Wanda and Peter, you sneakily take a seat.

“Nice of you to join us, Y/N” Tony points out, rolling his eyes.

“You bet, Stark.” You replied, saluting and smirking.

As he continued talking about the mission ahead, you drifted away in your thoughts.

This better be a quick mission…

HGTV ’s got new episodes of house hunters calling my name.

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Then it’s quiet again, but as always this luxury doesn’t last more than a few minutes, because they’ve taken to a highway and there’s a long stretch of road ahead of them, and Harry starts talking again, “So are we g'na ignore how you were drooling over me?”

Y/N scoffs, affronted by the accusation that was 100% corrected, “Was not drooling  over you, jesus, get your head out of your ass.” She grumps at him, “Not everyone on this planet gets wet at the sight of your biceps.”

She wishes it was ruffling him, but she can tell it isn’t. He merely grins sneakily and leans back into his seat, “Yeah, what ever you say, Pet.”

or

Y/N and Harry don’t really mesh well, until they do

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Adult World (Jungkook smut)

Originally posted by nochuie

Description: You reveal to your friends that no one except yourself has ever made you cum. Jin in particular finds this interesting and dares you and Jungkook to go to the sex shop down the street and purchase a sex toy, for your own benefit of course.

Pairings: You x Jungkook, You x Taehyung, Jungkook x Taehyung (you know how truth and dare goes)

Basically: Taehyung is a cocky lil shit who features quite a lot. Jin is a mean lil shit and Jungkook is a very helpful lil shit ;)

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff (so much smut, like damn this was hot to write)

This fic includes: A brief boy on boy scene, swearing, alcohol, sex toys, explicit smut

Word count: 6k


“You’ve got to be kidding!” Jin practically howls with laughter, doubling over himself and nearly falling off the couch with laughter. You’re about to tell him off but Jungkook beats you to it.

“Shut up. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Jin sits up straight, looking down at Jungkook, who sits next to you on the floor, opposite Jin. He wipes the tears from his eyes, his laughter finally dying down. “Hey, don’t you think you should talk to me with a bit more respect?” He prods teasingly, but Jungkook doesn’t seem in the mood, his previous lighthearted spirit vanishing upon Jin’s insensitive comment.

Jungkook’s tone is excitingly stern, but not rude, “Yeah, I’ll show more respect when you show more respect to Y/N.”

You laugh, “Don’t worry about me, Jungkook. I don’t think I can take Jin very seriously, not when I highly doubt he’d even know how to make me or any other girl cum.”

The circle of friends in Taehyung and Jungkook’s apartment erupt into comical ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’.

“You got damn burned!” Jimin says, leaning over the bottles in the center of your various seated positions to high five you.

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anonymous asked:

You have the BEST stories! Can you tell me a bedtime story?

i will tell you a story friends, and probably you will regret asking me to do so, because its not really a very restful story. i….dont really have any of those.


this is the story of how steve and a horse almost gave me a heart attack.
back when i was a kid, cars were a thing that existed but were mostly really really expensive, so horses were still a common sight on the streets of brooklyn. most of these horses were exceedingly large, calm animals; they hauled around big carts of stuff on crowded streets. back then, milk was delivered to your doorstep by a milkman. the milkman who worked our block was mr. davies, and he was this very nice older black gentleman. i mention that he’s black because racism was Very Much A Thing (oh how times have changed). but mr davies always had peppermint candies in his pockets to give to thunderhead, his horse, and he would always give one to stevie and i if he saw us. so stevie loved mr davies, and if anyone was being disrespectful towards him because he was black, stevie would pretty much blow his top. mr davies loved steve for it, of course. but since mr daives didnt want to get steve in trouble, he’d usually whistle me over (if i wasnt already there) to haul steve off before he did something drastic. mr davies was great like that. 

anyway, mr davies was around every morning dropping off milk with thunderhead. thunderhead was this huge dapple grey horse, i think a percheron?? a big draft horse, with hooves about the size of a dinner plate. aside from her size, her name was probably the most intimidating thing about her, because she was the most mild-mannered horse ive ever met. she would let all the little neighborhood kids climb all over her, and mr davies would usually let two or three of us ride on her back down the street. she never really noticed the extra weight. i think that if mr davies ever slept in, thunderhead would go walk his route without him. she loved stevie too–but for very different reasons. steve’s hair apparently looked exactly like hay to her, so she’d wander over and start lipping the top of his head. she never nipped or anything, but steve always got amusingly flaily when she did it, and i always suspected she thought it was funny.

one boiling hot summer morning, steve and i were sitting on the front steps of our building, just wasting time. it was early, but already awfully hot out, so when mr davies rounded the corner, steve decided to go meet him, but i stayed on the steps. it was hot. i didnt wanna move. 

anyway, steve went trotting down the block, said hi to old mrs mckinnon, who was on her way to get groceries, and was about a hundred feet away from mr davies and thunderhead when the wind picked up. it was a very nice refreshingly cool breeze, which picked up some of the debris–old newspapers and leaves and such–hanging around and tossed it across the road. 

now, if you know horses, you know that sometimes they get terrified by utterly ridiculous things. im told many horses nowadays think plastic bags are the minions of evil, and horses back then were much the same. id never seen thunderhead scared before, but i guess a bit of newspaper whipped in front of her and was the spitting image of Pony Satan himself, because her eyes went white around the edges and she took off running. mr davies was around back of the cart, getting milk out, so there was nobody at the reins to stop her. she went tearing down the block, the cart bouncing along behind, like there was a pack of slavering borzoi chasing after. and of course she was headed right at steve and old mrs mckinnon. 

steve, being the brave little idiot he was, didnt run; old mrs mckinnon wouldnt be able to get out of the way in time, so he stood his ground, flung his arms out, and waited to get trampled by a rogue milk cart. all of us there thought we were gonna be scraping tiny blonde guy off the pavement, because thunderhead just kept going. 

but about ten feet away from steve, thunderhead must have recognized him, because she went to a screeching stop. four feet down, all her knees locked, skiddin on the cobblestones. normally, she’d probably have been able to stop in that distance, but she was still harnessed to that heavy milk cart, so instead she plowed right into stevie, chest first. 

he went flying. he mustve gone about six feet through the air, and he hit the ground and just laid there like a sack of really dead potatoes. i thought he must have broken his little toothpick spine. poor thunderhead looked just as scared as i was, because she got her feet back under her and crept up on him like the cart wasnt jangling right behind her. she dropped her nose down and started whuffing and lipping at his hair, and he popped up like a damn weasel. little moron was fine. he nearly gave me and mr davies and old mrs mckinnon and thunderhead all a heart attack, but he was fine. 

and mr davies gave him his whole bag of peppermints, and mrs mckinnon gave him a chocolate, so he didnt even learn to not do stupid shit like that.

anonymous asked:

dark rc would you please consider writing about how victor (and the rest of the Russian skate team) had a feud with the Russian hockey team bc of their constant flirting and attentions towards yuuri (who was completely oblivious at the war waging for his heart)??

This has been sitting in my inbox for over a month and I apologize for that, nonny! I wanted to try my hand at breaking through this writer’s block and this prompt was ripe for the taking. It’s not my best work by any stretch, but it’s something at least! I hope you enjoy.

+

There are few things that give Yuri pleasure—the taste of accomplishment like cinnamon sugar on the back of his tongue after landing a quad; having a comeback so cutting that he practically draws blood; that soft murrf a cat makes when it decides it trusts him; the little green screenshot arrow appearing next to Otabek’s name in Snapchat—but they all pale in comparison to whenever the Russian hockey team visits the rink.

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