this is the only thing i ever need to see again

After Midnight: Part 1

A Dean x Reader / smut series

Dean Winchester is a hunter, and one of the most attractive men you’ve ever met. Your entire life changes when he and his brother Sam unexpectedly save your life, immediately taking you under their wing. When your ever growing feelings for each other are established, Dean discovers that no man has ever made you orgasm before, and makes it his mission to make you feel good in as many different ways as he possibly can.

A/N: Here is the first part of my new series. It’s going to be a long, and dirty ride. I really hope you guys like it. Please feel free to like, reblog, reply, and send me asks. I thrive off of your response and it makes me want to write even more. I appreciate and love all of you ♥ Let me know what you think!

Word Count: 4,548
(not every part will be this long)

Warnings:
- smut/nsfw.
- language.
- a smidge of violence.
- please do not read if you are under 18. i do not condone any minors reading my work. if i do catch it, i will block you.
- always wear a condom, kiddos!

Tags: (at the end)

*gif is not mine.

You remembered the day like it was yesterday, even though it was now almost 365 days ago. It was the day your life changed forever, for both the good and the bad; the day that Sam and Dean Winchester stumbled into your life.

Working your normal shift at the local diner, you never expected the day would go any different than it normally did. Your life was spent living alone, in a seedy apartment downtown, scraping pennies together just to pay the rent. With no family left to call your own, you couldn’t help but let the misery take over on most days. Half the time, you never even paid attention to the day of the week, let alone the date, considering you worked seven days a week to get by.  Everything was just a whirlwind of crap and more crap, hiding your electric and water bill termination letters under the cushion of your couch, just so you didn’t have to deal with them.

The diner wasn’t a very busy place during the week, but on the weekends it was even worse. In order to be able to pay staff, you were designated to open and close the diner alone on Sundays. This meant that you played waitress, cashier, and cook all in one. Since it wasn’t terribly crowded, it wasn’t that hard, and it meant you didn’t have to split your tips.

That fateful night, a man you’d never seen before moseyed into the diner, and took a seat in the farthest right corner. His face was smudged, as if he’d been rolling in dirt, and his jet black hair was unkempt, with bits of twigs and leaves sticking out of it.  When you approached him to take his order, he smiled at you with rotting teeth; noticing up close his fingernails were just as filthy as the rest of him. The stranger ordered a steak ‘as rare as you can make it’, and winked at you before you walked away. You wanted to gag. The way his eyes started at you as you wrote his order down sent chills down your spine, but you brushed it away and kept moving.

About an hour later, two more men walked into the diner. They were completely different than the stranger in the corner, much taller and cleaner. They were dressed in plaid and blue jeans, with heavy boots on their feet. One was taller than the other, but not by much, with dark brown hair that stopped at his chin in beautiful, natural layers. He was handsome, but the other man was the one who caught your eye, making your heart leap in your chest as he walked towards you. He had the perfect features, with freckles dusting his cheeks and nose. His jaw was strong, and light brown hair stood in spikes atop his head. It was the first time that Dean Winchester gave you butterflies.

“Hi,” he said with a  sinfully charming smile. You felt the heat rise up at the back of your neck, as those stunning green eyes met yours. No man ever looked at you like this, like you existed, let alone someone this painfully attractive. “Can we sit anywhere?”

“Uh, yeah. Anywhere you like is fine. I’ll be over in a minute to take your order,” you somehow managed to say, grabbing some menus from behind the counter and handing them to him.

“No need,” he replied, still smiling. “Just two coffees for me and my brother, please.”

Before your brain could even respond, he was turned around and walking back towards the taller man, who you now knew was his brother. They took a seat in the booth two away from the stranger, and you noticed Mr. Green Eyes was staring directly at him. Quickly getting together their coffees and creamers, you brought them over their table.

“Thank you,” Long Hair said, taking the creamers out of your hands, as you set their coffees down gently on the table. Mr. Green Eyes was still staring at the dirty man in the corner.

“You’re welcome,” you replied. “Sugars are over there, and if you need a refill just yell.”

“What’s your name?” Mr. Green Eyes asked, finally moving his eyes.

You showed him your name tag.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft while his brother dumped as many sugars in his coffee as possible.

Trying to shake this man, with the impenetrable green eyes and 100 watt smile, you turned quickly and went back to cleaning up the vacant booths. Only an hour until closing time.

The dirty stranger left his money on the table and, of course, didn’t leave a tip. Mr. Green Eyes and Long Hair, the most gorgeous brothers in existence, did in fact leave a quite generous tip, and you couldn’t help but smile. It perked you up, and that was rare. For the next twenty minutes, you cleaned the diner thinking about Mr. Green Eyes in particular, and if you’d ever see him again.

Little did you know, you’d have your wish granted sooner than you realized.

Locking up the diner, you felt the hair at the back of your neck stand up, feeling someone behind you. Quickly turning around, there was no one there. However, the adjacent alley, which always terrified you to begin with, gave you the extreme creeps tonight. Tossing the keys in your purse, you began to walk to short walk home, your heart beating loudly in your chest.

“Hi, beautiful,” a groggy, hoarse voice behind you said, making you spin around so hard your neck cracked. It was the dirty stranger from the diner, and your heart fell into your stomach. You had nothing to protect yourself with.

“Get away from me,” you all but whispered, backing away from the man and preparing to run. With lightning speed he was upon you, fisting your hair in his hand and yanking you towards him.

“You smell good enough to eat, little girl,” he growled, exposing grotesque fangs with stringy drool, growing closer and closer to your face. The smell of his breath could’ve gagged a maggot. It was a rancid odor you’d never forget. His now clawed fingers played over the buttons of your white shirt, running a long scratch down your chest where your heart was beating on the inside.

“Hey!” a familiar voice yelled from behind the creature, firing a warning shot off in the arm. “Leave her alone!”

The monster didn’t let go of you, but turned his body to see who was behind him. A small window between his arm let you see who was speaking. It was the taller brother from the diner, and he was pointing a gun right at the stranger’s chest.

Hunters…” it growled, letting you go with force, dropping you to your knees on the concrete. The wind was knocked out to you. You watched from your knees as the creature was now advancing on the taller brother.

“Run!” he yelled to you, as he shot at the monster, missing his chest and hitting him in the left leg. The creature hissed and dropped to one knee, but got back up immediately to charge at Long Hair again. A punch landed on the taller brother’s face, sending him flying back. You wanted to move, wanted to run, but you didn’t want anything to happen to the man who’d saved your life. The creature was now advancing back at you. Watching Long Hair try to unjam his gun, you started to panic. Suddenly, you felt two strong hands take you under the arms and bring you to your feet with ease. You spun around to defend yourself, halting when you were met by intimidating green eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a gruff, out of breath voice. You looked behind him to see a beautiful, black 1967 Chevy Impala parked down the street that wasn’t there before. It must have been how he got here. He was also holding a gun. You tried to answer, but your mouth gaped open and closed like a fish out of water. “Stay here.”

In slow motion, you watched him expertly take the safety off his gun, and fire two shots in the creature’s back, bringing it to the ground. The taller brother raced forward and shot it straight in the chest, right where its heart should be. Finally, the creature was lifeless, blood pouring out of the wound onto the street.

“Sam!” Mr. Green Eyes yelled, running towards his brother. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Dean,” he replied in a huff, dusting the dirt off his jeans. “Go check on her.”

You watched as Dean briskly walked over to where you were standing, your brain in complete shock. Your body couldn’t move on its own, even if you tried.

“Hey, hey,” his voice soothingly said, taking your face in his hands and trying to make you look at him. Your entire body was shaking. “Listen, my name is Dean Winchester, and this is my brother Sam. We’re hunters, and that thing we just killed was a werewolf. Are you okay?”

Blankly you stared at him, trying to process if all of this was just a dream, your mind hallucinating from stress, or a reality. Everything was happening so fast. You could see the panic in Dean’s face, as he motioned for his brother to come closer.

“Do you have anywhere to go?” Sam said, standing behind Dean, his brow furrowed in concern. Still, you couldn’t manage to form a word.

“Alright, look,” Dean said to his brother, his hands leaving your face, leaving you feeling empty. “She’s not okay. We need to take her back to the bunker. She can rest there under our watch, we can explain everything to her, and we can bring her home.”

“I…” you started, tears welling up in your eyes. It was the first word you’d even uttered since this all began. Sam and Dean stared at you, waiting for you to continue. You couldn’t let them down.  “Don’t want to go home. I hate my shitty apartment, I hate my job. Why didn’t you just let that thing kill me?”

“Okay, enough of that,” Dean said, taking you under the knees and lifting you effortlessly in his arms. “You’re coming with us, okay?”

All you could do was nod, as Dean walked you to the Impala. He placed you gently in the back seat, covering you up with a blanket from the trunk. Sam got into the passenger side, but Dean was peering in at you from the door.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Y/N. I won’t let anything else happen to you.”

He remembered your name, and your heart fluttered. You nodded, because it was all you could do. Dean smiled at you and closed the door, getting into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. He looked at you through the mirror, and smiled.

“Shut your eyes,” he said, as Sam turned around to check on you. “We’ll be home in no time.”

And that’s exactly what the bunker has been to you. Home; more of a home than your shitty apartment had ever been. After they explained what they did for a living, everything about monsters and ghosts, you were on the team. Dean never let you actually go out and hunt with them, but you were more than happy to help with research, traveling with them to motels from state to state. They were your family now, and you wouldn’t of had it any other way. Except there was one point that you had never actually brought up, or even addressed, in the entire year that you’d lived in the bunker.

You were madly, deeply, head over heels in love with Dean Winchester.


“Can you please untie my boots?” Dean asked you, sitting on the end of the motel bed. He and Sam had just gotten back from a particular gruesome hunt. “I can’t even bend over to do it myself.”

Sam collapsed on the other bed, not even bothering to take his boots off.

“That bad, huh?” you asked, carefully unlacing his boots, pulling them off and placing them neatly near the door.

“Job’s done, that’s all that matters,” Sam said. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

He shot up from the bed like lightning, making sure he got the bathroom before his brother. Dean sighed heavily.

“He knows you take too long in the shower,” you said with a giggle. “He wasn’t trying to wait.”

“Are you alright?” Dean asked you, getting up to place his large hands on your shoulders, giving them a squeeze. He was always so protective of you, so worried. Since he was touching you now, you knew it would end in flirting. Just like it always did.

“Dean, I’m fine,” you rolled your eyes. “Nothing ever happens to me in a locked motel room. You guys taught me how to defend myself in literally every situation. Stop worrying about me so much, you big softy.”

His gruff laugh filled the room, and your heart melted.

“Did you know today is one year exactly that you guys picked my helpless ass up off the side of the road?”

Dean grabbed a beer out of the mini fridge and sat down on the edge of the bed again. You noticed that he had flecks of blood on his forehead. Standing up, you procured a baby wipe from your duffle bag, and walked over to him.

“Is that so?” he asked, taking a swig of his beer, his eyes never leaving you. That was the thing about Dean; his eyes were so intimidating when they stared at you, as if they were staring directly into your soul. He looked up at you as you began to gently wipe the blood from his forehead, before throwing it into the trash. “Well then I think we should celebrate.”

“Dean, we don’t have to. I know you and Sam are tired, we can just–”

“Sam is gonna pass out as soon as those luscious locks hit the pillow, you know that,” he cut you off, standing up right in front of you. He was so close to you now, you could feel his body heat radiating into you.

“So what are you saying?” you asked sheepishly, feeling your face get hot, trying to busy yourself by stacking papers that were already stacked on the table.

“I think we should celebrate together, in your room. If that’s okay with you? We never get to spend any alone time together. Just me and you…”

You swallowed hard. It had never come to this before. Sure, there was always the flirting and the googly eyes back and forth between you, but you really never had been alone with Dean for longer than a few minutes. The chemistry between you was obviously there, but both of you didn’t want to complicate things. Even though this was something you’d never discussed, it was just silently known that hunters never had relationships. It was too complicated.

“Okay,” your heart agreed, even though your brain told you it wasn’t a good idea.

“Good,” he replied with a smile so wide, the crinkles by his eyes appeared. It was your favorite part of his face. “I’ll meet you in your room in an hour.”

Snapping your laptop shut, you gathered your things and left without saying goodbye, your heart hammering too hard in your chest to even speak.


You spent the next hour showering yourself, actually trying to do your makeup and hair. When the knock on the door came after midnight, you took a deep breath, before opening the door. It was just Dean, right? What could possibly happen? Finally, you opened it, to reveal a fresh showered, incredibly handsome man at the door. He was holding a bottle of Jack Daniels.

“I brought this,” he said, walking in the door and sitting down on the bed. “I figured we would drink to you being with us for a whole year.”

“Sounds good to me,” you replied with a smile.

Dean spun the cap off the bottle and took a deep swig, before offering it to you. You also took a large gulp, which turned into you both passing it back and forth to each other; which then turned into you both being pig drunk playing a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’.

“Okay…” Dean said, his head back against the bed as you both sat on the floor. It was too hard to get up at this point. You both had been very handsy with each other, very affectionate, which often happened when Dean was drunk. You didn’t matter in the slightest. “Never have I ever faked an orgasm?”

With a fuzzy brain and feeble hands, you reached out and took one big gulp from the bottle. Dean’s eyes grew wide.

“W-wait,” he slurred, rubbing his eyes and sitting up straighter. “What kind of men did you sleep with?”

“Shitty ones apparently,” you chuckled, looking him in the eye. You were brave under the whiskey’s influence. “I’ve actually never even had an orgasm. Well, besides from my vibrator…”

Dean choked on the whiskey that he’d just put in his mouth, a trail of it dribbling down his chin.

“Excuse me?”

Your face was getting hot now.

“Well you’re not supposed to lie when you play this game, right? I figured I could tell you in confidence…”

“No, no I mean of course you can,” he exhaled loudly. “But now I just want to show you how good it can feel. How a real man can make you feel. How I can make you feel…”

Dean had scooted closer to you now on the floor, and his hand was on your knee. Your eyes were locked onto each other, and the spark of sexual tension between you could’ve powered the room.

“Is this okay?” he asked, leaning into you and rubbing his rough hand over the top of your thigh. Good God, this was more than okay. It was what you’ve been yearning for, for over a year.

“Yes,” you breathed, his face now inches away from yours as he now hovered over you. You were leaned back on your elbows, his fists planted into the carpet now.

“Can I…”

“C-Can you what, Dean?”

Saying his name out loud, with such a wanton sound, only increased the electricity between you.

Everything…” he said with exasperation, as if it was something he’d been holding in too.

You answered him by making your lips meet, sparks flying throughout your nervous system at the contact. His hands flew up to cup your face, as he deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours. His mouth tasted so sweet, exactly what you’d expected it to taste like; like whiskey, and sweet mint toothpaste.

As softly as his drunken self would allow, he grabbed you by the waist and laid you gently on the bed, settling over top of you again. You let your hands roam everywhere you always wanted to, starting from his shoulders to the small of his back. You could feel the muscles ripple beneath his skin, as his own hands roamed your body.

Fuck,” he groaned, pushing his denim clad erection into your thigh. “You’re so beautiful.”

Your back arched instinctively at the sound of his voice, and you were dying for him to undress you. As if he could read your thoughts, he stripped you of your clothing, tossing it to the side in a heap. Seeing you sprawled completely naked in front of him, he let out a low whistle.

“You have no idea,” he started, tracing a line from between your breast to your belly button, his hands cupping your curves. “How long I’ve been dying to see you like this…”

Reaching up, you tugged at his shirt, then at his belt, desperate to see the treasures that were underneath his own clothes. Even though you were drunk beyond belief, you were coherent enough to know that you both wanted this; needed this.

Watching him strip of his own clothes was the most sinful experience you’d ever witnessed, and one you were sure you could never get tired of. Freckles dusted his shoulders and chest; his shoulders so broad you wanted to scream.

Seeing his cock for the first time made you gasp. You knew he’d be big, considering everything else about him was nothing short of perfect, but you didn’t expect it to be that big.

“Damn,” your drunk brain said, taking it in. Dean chuckled, taking your legs and spreading them gently apart.

“I could say the same for you,” he said, licking his lips as he saw what laid between your legs. His fingers gripped your inner thighs, as he lowered himself to settle right in front of your already soaking wet pussy. “I wonder if you taste as sweet as you look…”

Without anymore words, his lips closed around your clit, sucking it gently into his mouth. You cried out, your hands immediately tugging at his hair. This only encouraged him, as he started to use his tongue, running it from the most sensitive part of your clit, down to lick up the juices you’d left behind.

“You taste even more delicious than I thought you would,” he said, before diving back in, this time inserting a thick finger inside you. You wanted to scream it felt so good, as he expertly used his tongue and fingers to inch you closer and closer to your sweet release. The noises he made as he tasted you were positively sinful, as you watched his perfect, plush lips suck at your clit.

“Dean…” you breathed, feeling the rubber band begin to snap in your stomach. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me—”

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he groaned, nipping at your inner thigh, as he crooked his finger just right to hit your g-spot. Pops of white light appeared in your vision as you came, hard and fast around his finger. The most devilish smirk played at his lips, as he reached up and popped his finger into your mouth. “You see how good you taste? I don’t know why I waited this long.”

Even though you had just came as hard as you’d ever came before, you wanted more. Reaching between you, you wrapped his hard, thick cock in his hands and pumped it, watching as his eyes slowly closed. You guided it to your entrance, as he helped to thrust himself deep inside you. The perfect sting of him stretching you made your head spin, almost causing your walls to crumble already. He filled you up so well, and the sound of him groan as your walls clasped around him was one of the sexiest sounds you’d ever heard.

For the next couple of minutes, he thrust himself in and out of you, enjoying the feeling of your tightness. Dean worked his hands over your entire body, leaning down every so often to place a small peck to your lips.

“Does it feel good?” he asked, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead; the muscles in his abs beginning to clench.

“It feels incredible, Dean,” you managed to say, feeling the impending wave about to crash down on you. “I want to cum for you. I need to cum for you.”

“Oh please cum, baby,” he groaned, so needy. “I need to feel it.”

It was all he had to say, before you came around him, clawing at his back, leaving red welts. He threw his head back and grabbed your hips, biting his bottom lip as he came inside you. Before he pulled out of you, he kissed you long and hard, brushing the hair off of your own sweaty forehead.

With a soft chuckle, he collapsed next to you, covering his face.

“Oh my God,” he laughed. “I have the spins so fucking bad.”

You laughed next to him, feeling your stomach muscles tighten.

“I guess it wasn’t a good idea to fuck on the first date… drunk.”

Dean laughed again, this time harder, holding his stomach before looking directly at you.

“This wasn’t just a fuck for me, Y/N. I want you to know that.”

“Is that the whiskey talking?”

“No!” he practically yelled, sitting up in the bed. “It’s definitely not. I don’t know what it means exactly, but I do care about you.”

“Well, congratulations,” you said, changing the subject to something more light-hearted. There was no way you could have this conversation drunk. “You’re the first man to ever give me an orgasm.”

He patted himself on the back, emitting a giggle from you.

“I know. And I don’t want it to be the last.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your brain making it self believe that this would only be a one time thing.

“What do you mean?”

Dean took your hand in his, kissing each finger.

“I want to make you cum as many ways as I possibly can.”

Boom, boom, boom, goes your heart…

“How many possible ways is there?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said with a grin. “There are many.”

Dean got up from the bed and grabbed one of your notebooks from the table. He brought it back to you and sat down, all the while you continued to admire his god-like naked self.

“I want you and I to write down things we’ve always wanted to try, but never have.”

“Okay…”

“Then, we each take a turn and pick a slip of paper. Whatever it says on the paper, we try. Only if it’s something either of us are into. We can always say no, of course.”

You walked over to your duffle bag and pulled out a spare toiletry bag, dumping out its contents.

“Sounds like a great idea to me,” you said, ready for whatever adventure Dean was going to throw at you. “We can put them in here.”

“I think we should keep this from Sam,” Dean said, looking you directly in the eye. “Not that I want to hide this or anything, I just don’t want it to… complicate us.”

“Okay,” you said. “There’s no reason to tell Sam if there isn’t anything going on. It can be our little secret.”

For now…

“Right,” he agreed. “Now get to writing. I have a few ideas that I’ve been fantasizing about trying with you.”

Your heart was beating so fast in your chest, as your mind raced about what may come in the near future. With shaky hands, you wrote down five things, folded them up, and put them in the bag along with Dean’s own five mystery scenarios.

“Awesome,” Dean said, kissing your forehead. “You get the first pick tomorrow night.”

Dean gathered his clothes and put them on, stopping to kiss you hard when he was done. Butterflies danced in your stomach, aching to ask him to stay, but knowing you shouldn’t.

“I should get back in case Sam wakes up,” he whispered, as if Sam could hear him through the walls. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

And with that, he was gone, closing the door silently behind him, leaving you aching and wanting for more.


@lexicon411 @thegingerthatwaited @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @jayankles @starswirlblitz @jesspfly @headgirlana @winchesterlioness @noisilyyoungpuppy @kayteonline @keenondean @emoryhemsworth @goldenolaf25 @littlegirlsdontplaynice @sammiesamness @potterhead1265 @sandlee44 @xtina2191 @makaylahoran @mrswhozeewhatsis @lupine-princess @grimes-slut @kingkenzieo @sis-tafics @yvngkinggchristyy @supernatural-jackles @angelicdemonicwaitress @perpetualabsurdity @dalikah3 @cherrycokegirls1 @walkslikesummeractslikerain @khelmatic @queenblair92 @hygge-adventurous @comeinandbyourself @superapplepie @legion18993 @laurafloradora @writingismyjamman @abigayle19 @jotink78 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @pheonyxstorm @its-not-a-tulpa @andhiseyesweregreen @illtakeawinchesteranyday @LessonsOfRed @woodworthti666 @my—heroine  @bebravekeeponfighting @salvachester @valerieshubin @rockerdestiel13 @-lovepeacenhope- @tailsoflightning @jbwkzzzzz-jfl @thelittleistf0x @Jdreher4878  @transcendentalones @mecca814 @mysticalflowerchild @supernaturalmistress @mattiepieluv @melissasalvatoremikaelson @akshi8278 @rambleonmywaywarddaughter @i-want-to-believe-x @multifandomwhore91 @aubreystilinski @rockhoochie @satya12 @abigayle19 @carribear31 @sofreddie @valerieshubin @tailsoflightning @erin654 @julia6481 @ifindyourlipssokissable @castianityislife02 @emwinchester1 @daughterleftbehind @alyssa6marie @mecca814 @kinkysadwishingforthin @thecurseofsarah @supernaturalmistress  @jane5257 @luhslilbitch @krahk @mouse230 @noworries418 @fangirlofeverythingme @melissasalvatoremikaelson  @daughterleftbehind @michellethetvaddict @ja-jja-da @dolphinpink310  @bluecatinthecity @satya12 @abigayle19  @fandomoniumflurry

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A quick drabble (mostly dialogue) of how Milo and Melissa met Zack on the Hogwarts Express, on their first year at the School. The actual stories I have take place when they’re all 13, but I’ll have some one-shots about Milo’s life leading up to his first day of school. This AU will have some inaccuracies with JK Rowling’s universe from her books, but that’s what AUs and parodies are for ;) 

***********

Most of the booths on the train were either filled or contained children who were familiar with Milo’s condition. He was used to doors closing moments before he arrived, so he never took any heed and would continue onwards.

Keep reading

Grounded

Originally posted by silent-rain91

Series: Tom Holland Imagines

Relationship: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: Triggering material for anxiety and depression 

Request: @potterhead1265  : heyyyyyy can I get one where Tom helps the reader through an anxiety attack?? 

A/N: Tom IG fan account- Tiemeupspidey

-Please don’t read if you get triggered easily.

Short and sweet xx

BTW YOU’RE MY GIRL PT.2 WILL BE UP BY TOMORROW OR WEDNESDAY:)


[Reader’s POV]


“Hey love, I’ll be back later I have to do photo shoots today” Tom comes into the room sliding on a pair of pants. Hopping into them and pulling them up to his hips. Looking up at you, his curls moved back flopping a bit.


“That’s fine babe, I’ll probably take Tessa for a walk and draw a bit later till you come back” Leaning over you grab his wallet and hand it to him. He thanks you giving you a brief kiss before leaving the room. Of course, he overslept and set a timer for longer than he should of. Under his breath, he was muttering that he was going to be late. He reminded you of the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland. 


“Drive safely!” you call out hearing a ‘Will do!’ followed by the door downstairs slamming shut. The sheets scrunched as you moved on the bed. Repositioning yourself you lay back down on the bed. Sleep was beckoning you but you knew better and not sleep your day away. 




    Time seemed to fly by as you cleaned around the house. It felt good to get things off of you to do list. When everything was done that meant you had more time to spend with Tom when he gets home. Nikki dropped off Tessa while you were busy cleaning. When you busted out the vacuum the house filled with barking.


    Unlocking your phone you open up your music app. Shuffling your relaxing playlist you exit the app and head onto Instagram.  Swiping up on the screen you lower the brightness. Your eyes wincing at the light from the screen. Sitting up due to the pictures that started flooding your feed. Messages started piling in from your best friend. You had gotten off of Instagram for a week due to some of Tom’s fans. 


    Ever since you two had been together for over two years, it was half of his fans that despised you. Half of them liked you and supported the two of you. Yet the other half couldn’t stand you. They always tried spreading rumors to try and split the two of you up. One time it almost worked causing the two of you to end up in a horrible fight. Nikki had to smack some sense into Tom when he almost broke up with you.


      It was super stressful to try and stay positive when media was looking at everything you do. Scrolling through all the posts your eyes land on something that broke you inside. It was Tom holding hands with some other woman. Your fingers zoom the picture up as your eyes scan to see if any photoshop has been done. Normally you could tell the photoshop but you saw her reflection with hers and his in the window. Setting your phone aside you try and take a few deep breaths. She looked like a slime model making malicious thoughts swarm your mind.


     Opening your phone up you click on the messaging app. Scrolling down your messages you click on the thread you had started yesterday. The sounds of the keyboard filled the air. Once you finish the message you press the blue arrow sending it. Letting out a defeated sigh you get off the bed still holding your phone. Moments later it started to vibrate in your hand. Tom’s name flashed on the screen, you wanted to answer but pressed the power button.      


     Your head was swarmed with thoughts of how you wanted to yell at him. Anger was the main emotion that coursed through your veins. Setting your phone down on the counter, your thoughts stop when you see yourself.Of course, you wanted to yell at him but was the problem you? Eyes trailing over your body in the reflection.Raising Tom’s shirt you look at your body, the gaze felt as if it was burning the flesh. 


   Your eyes watched as the blood trickled quickly out of your wrists. The razor slips past your fingers clattering onto the floor. Leaning against the wall the coolness feels good against your skin. The cuts in your wrists were shallower than they’ve ever been before. Dark thoughts swirled around in your head thinking of all the people that hated you and Tom together. Closing your eyes you slowly slide down the wall.


   Walking over to the glass doors you open them turning on the water. The temperature slowly increases in the shower filling the bathroom with steam. Stripping off your clothes you get into the stream of hot water. Minutes felt like hours going torturously slow. The hot temperature burned your skin that sure was turning red slightly.




“Darling I’m home early! We need to tal-”


“What was that sound?”



“T-Tom?” your voice comes out slurred , the sound of it stinging your ears. Looking down your vision tunnels in and out as red falls in front of your eyes. The door busts open to revel a panicked faced Tom.



[Tom’s POV]


   I got a call from Harrison over what was sent to my girl. It was a shot from the movie I’ve been working on in the countryside of Scottland. We went into town to get food and Kiera grabbed my hand. Of course a photo got out and now this could really fuck up our relationship. Plus my mum would kill me if I ruined this beautiful relationship I have…


I could feel the hit on my head coming..


   Running up the driveway I click the lock button on my car keys. The feeling of my heart rate rising stirred my emotions slowly. More and more my mind swirled at the possibilities of what could happen. Calling out to the house when I walk in I hear nothing. Tessa comes from the living room couch with a happy bark. A loud bang comes from upstairs making Tessa looks towards the stairs, followed by a small whine.


“What was that sound?!” I yell still recieving no answer. Taking off toward the stairs I make my way up to the bedroom. The sound of running water fills the air making me look over. Our bathroom door was open with steam flowing out into the room. 



[Reader’s POV]


“Oh God baby why’d you do this again?” Tom lifts your body out of the shower. Your skin is then covered by a towel. Another wraps around your wrists, the cotton pressed tightly againsty your skin. Blood was dripping from your head, probably from the fall.


“I don’t make you happy” you whimper out as he holds onto you. Leaning you against the wall he opens the cabinet bringing out a box of medical supplies. 


“You’re my everything angel, what you saw wasn’t real.. you’re my girl and the only one I care about..” his words toned out as you felt your heartbeat getting faster. 


Pausing before you spoke “You could leave me for anyone..” the thought of him leaving you sent your heart into a frenzy. A frenzy of panic and distress. 


“Look at me angel, look at me”


    Tears clouded your vision as you looked up. Blinking them away your vision becomes clearer. He was looking down, gaze focused on the bandage being wrapped around the wounds. Once finished he places his hand on your cheek. The warmth soothing and extremely comforting. 


“I’m never leaving you baby, ever” his voice serious as he looked down at you. His curls were disheveled from him probably running his fingers through it constantly. 


    Tom pulls you into his arms and starts to sing Ed Sheeran to you. It’s his way of calming you down. Which was singing your favorite songs to you. Of course, they were Ed Sheeran because who doesn’t. When you were all calmed down he picked you up taking you to the bedroom. He gave you his shirt to wear since you were naked from the shower.     


“you promise you won’t leave?” You ask resting your cheek against his chest. His fingers run up and down your back slowly.


A kiss was placed to your forehead before he said “with my entire soul baby, I will never leave you because I’m the one who keeps you ” 

Originally posted by kissing-pleasure

-Sorry this wasn’t my best one

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the art of chasing ♔ billy hargrove [two]

concept: steve has a female best friend and billy has taken it upon himself to flirt with her just to piss steve off. that’s it. that’s the plot. [vol. 2]

a/n: holy moly, i did not expect so much feedback for this! i’m totally blown away by the response the first part got so soon and i’m so happy you guys are enjoying this so far, thank you for all the positivity! here is part two my lovelies xoxo

[part one]


kids were laughing in my classes

while i was scheming for the masses.

who do you think you are

dreamin’ ‘bout bein’ a big star?

#3

Annie was starting to see a pattern.

Ever since Billy gave her the orange at lunch she’d been keeping an eye on him. It surprised her just how true Steve’s words had been – “He’s fucking everywhere,” – because, really, Billy Hargrove was everywhere.

Keep reading

Bad Again

I started writing this at school because I was bored and here we are. Y/N is somewhat representative of me because I’ve been feeling exactly the same as she has. This is my first fic so let me know what you think!!x

TW: depression.

You were getting bad again, Harry could tell. He could always tell. You had been doing so well for so long and he was so proud of you. But you were slipping away again, you were becoming more distant. You didn’t mean to, you didn’t want to, but that’s just how it was with you.

When you and Harry met, you were at a low point. It took you a while to open up and give yourself to him completely, there were still some things you hadn’t told him, even after almost two years together. Over time, Harry finally got the old you back - that happy, enthusiastic you. Harry loved you before that, but seeing how happy you could be made him want to help you stay that way. And you did… for a while. A lot of shit came with dating Harry, you knew that, you experienced that. That’s when you got bad again, but that was ages ago. You had learnt to deal with that pretty well.

Harry didn’t know what made you so distant this time. Hell, you didn’t even know. You didn’t realise you were becoming more and more withdrawn. One day, after months of being so happy and with only a few down days, you just couldn’t deal with anything anymore.

You found yourself struggling to get out of bed, and you were more tired than usual. Any chance to sleep, you would take. You had always loved your sleep, so you didn’t think anything of it. Then, you found yourself not wanted to leave the house - the thought of talking to people and being outside gave you severe anxiety. You made excuses to stay home and not go out with friends, and when you were out, all you wanted to do was go home. You couldn’t even leave your bed now. You didn’t want to and you weren’t going to force yourself anymore - you couldn’t. You barely even ate anymore, you used to love food. Now, the thought it made you sick even if you were starving and you were losing weight. You couldn’t tell, you thought that because you were naturally slim it would be hard to lose weight and it wouldn’t be as noticeable. It was noticeable, though. Very.

“Come on, my love. You know that mum’s gonna be here soon.” Harry sighed, sitting on the bed as you buried your face in the pillow.

“Can’t you just tell her I’m sick? H, I’m really tired and I would love to just go back to sleep right now.” You didn’t notice, but your voice was more vulnerable than usual, quieter, weaker.

“No, you’ve been in bed for ages and you need to eat something. Get up and get ready, I’ll make you breakfast… well, lunch.” Harry said, he placed his hand on the side of your face as if he was brushing away imaginary tears and kissed your forehead.

While Harry was making breakfast, he found himself wondering what was on your mind. He didn’t know if you were just having a rough couple of days and to give you space or if you were getting really bad again. He never judged you when things got really bad, he never got angry with you. But he hated seeing you so down. He hated not knowing what to do or how to help you. Harry always caught on when you were getting bad again, he could feel when things weren’t right. He knew that it took all of your willpower to just get out of bed and you had to force yourself to eat at times. However, he decided to wait until after his mum left you ask you what was going on. He didn’t want to push you.


“So, before she comes down. What are you getting Y/N for your anniversary.” Anne asked Harry as they stood in the kitchen with a cuppa.

“Not sure yet, mum. I wanna do something really special, though. Two years isn’t really that long but god, mum, I really want to make her happy this year. Last year we didn’t so much.”

“She’d be happy with anything, H, you know that.” Anne reassured him. “After what she told me when I last saw her I th-”

“What did she tell you? She didn’t tell me she spoke to you about anything.” Harry cut his mum off, eager to know what his girlfriend told her.

“I don’t think she’d want me to tell you.”

“Mum, you know that I’ll just ask her myself so, please, just tell me. I’m worried about her if I’m honest. I think she’s getting bad again.”

“I’m worried too, H. I can see it in her eyes - she’s here but she’s not. She told me that she was feeling a bit out of it recently.” Anne looked at her son with worried eyes, and as Harry was just about to say something, you walked into the kitchen. You didn’t even give them time to collect their thoughts.

“Hey, Anne. How are you?” You beamed, you were actually really excited to see Anne. Ever since you first met her, she’d been nothing but lovely to you. You’d gotten really close with Anne over the past two years, she was like your second mother.

“Still not used to being alone in the house, if I’m honest. But I’m alright. And you?”

“I guess I’m alright. And you know that if you ever get lonely, Harry and I can come and stay. I can even come while Harry’s away so the both of us don’t lose our minds. And you can stay here.” You smiled at her, you didn’t really pay much attention to Harry because you were focusing on what Anne was saying but when you did look at him, he seemed to be in deep thought. “H, are you alright?”

“Are you?” He asked, you knew the question had a much deeper meaning but with his mum here, you really weren’t up for having that conversation right now.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Were you?


Anne had left for the day and it was around 8:30 in the evening. Having spent so much time talking to Anne and catching up, yourself and Harry didn’t really speak much. You knew exactly what Harry was thinking and you knew why. You knew that you’d been spending more time in the house and you’d been sleeping more than usual. You were aware of the fact that you’d only eating a couple slices of toast and half your dinner yesterday, actually, for the whole week. And you were well aware of the fact that you could snap at Harry or yourself or anyone and anything at any given moment. You could feel yourself getting bad again.

You hadn’t eaten breakfast and you were cranky. Even though Harry had made you something earlier, you just didn’t really feel hungry, all you had was a cup of tea and bit of fruit when Anne was here. Now… now you were hungry. You found yourself looking in the cupboards and the fridge for something to eat. You found nothing. There was more than enough food there but everything made you feel sick. It frustrated you so much.

“For fuck’s sake.” You muttered angrily to yourself as you slammed the fridge shut.

“Everything alright, love?” Harry called from the living room.

“There’s no fucking food in this house!” You snapped. You didn’t mean to, but you did.

“Yes, there is.” He told you calmly, but wearily at the same time. “There’s a lot of food, actually.”

“Jesus, H. Not all of us want to live off of kale and fucking almond milk!” You didn’t know why you were so angry all of a sudden. Harry didn’t know either, he knew something was up. But that didn’t mean the way you yelled at him didn’t hurt his feelings. “Look, I’m gonna just shower then head to bed.” You said in a much calmer voice.

“Y/N, are you okay, my love?” He asked you again, this time with a much gentler voice. The voice he uses to calm you down.

“No, I’m not okay! I haven’t been okay since I was twelve, maybe thirteen. But unfortunately, I’m still here.” You don’t know why you were so angry, all Harry did was care for you. It didn’t feel like it though, you always felt like no one ever cared. And when you would get like this, nothing would change the fact that you thought that. 

“Love, please just talk to me.” Harry was practically begging you to say something other than ‘I’m fine’, and that’s what happened.

“I’m getting bad again and I don’t know what to do or where to go or who to tell because no one really cares, do they?” You were yelling at this point. You didn’t want to yell, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You hated yourself because you were ruining his night after a great day with his mum and you couldn’t stop.

“I care!” Harry raised his voice, he’s never done that before - not when you’re like this. No, he wasn’t supposed to be angry with you, he wasn’t supposed to hate you. “I fucking care, and seeing you like this has been killing me. It’s been killing me for days because I know! I know that you’re getting bad again and I’m so fucking angry because I don’t know how to help you this time.”

“I don’t need your help! I’ve gotten through this on my own before, I can sure as hell do it again.” Your own voice was beginning to irritate you. You wanted to shut the fuck up, but it was almost like your demons were forcing the words out of your mouth. 

You couldn’t be in the same room as him anymore, you didn’t want to say anything else that you didn’t mean. You’d ruined his night already, what was the point in making it worse. When you stormed up the stairs, Harry was ready to follow you. Then he remember that you needed space in times like his. Harry felt like shit for yelling, he was just so frustrated because this time, he didn’t know what caused it.  Usually, something drastic or traumatic would happen and you’d distance yourself then let the vicious cycle begin. But nothing happened this time.

Harry didn’t only need to check on you, he needed to apologise. He didn’t want to make you feel even worse. Harry was walking up the stairs when he heard you. He heard your sobs. He was outside the bedroom door but it was locked. Harry stayed out there for a while just listening to you, he’s only ever heard you cry like that a handful of times. It broke is heart, completely shattered it.

You knew he was there, but you didn’t want to bother him anymore. You didn’t even know why you were crying. Why were you so sad? Why did it feel like the walls were closing in on you? Why did you feel like nothing was going right in your life? You never knew the answers. You startled yourself with a sob. A loud, ugly, painful sob. You hadn’t felt this way in so long, you forgot how shitty it was. This time, it was harder - it was more gradual.

Maybe it was all subconscious, a part of your brain was telling you not to be happy. That every time things felt good, it was too good to be true. Sooner or later, you’d fall back into the black hole - and this time, you’d fallen so fucking far. 

“Baby, can you open the door?” He sounded so desperate. You said nothing but walked towards the door and your hand reached for the doorknob. “Love, please. I know you’re crying and I just… please open the door.” Again, he was met with silence. “Y/N, I’m really sorry for yelling at you. You know I didn’t mean it.”

You twisted the doorknob slowly and pulled the door open. Harry immediately pulled into his chest and you sobbed into him until you were all out of tears. He kept kissing your head and telling you that you were alright, he was telling you to let it all out. You don’t know how long you were standing there, it must’ve been ages. You pulled back to look at Harry and he looked so heartbroken and disappointed in himself.

“I ruined your shirt.” I told him, chuckling pathetically to yourself as you wiped your tears.

“My shirt will be fine. But I’m not too sure that you will…” Harry said, his voice was so gentle and caring. “How about you put on one of my shirts and then we can have a cuddle?”


You and Harry had been wrapped in each other arms for a good twenty minutes before either of you decided to speak. He was running his fingers through your hair as you drew random patterns on his bare chest. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it did get deafening.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Harry asked. It’s a question you’d been asked several times in the last twenty-three years but when Harry asksd, everything spilled out even if you didn’t want it to.

“I don’t even know where it came from this time, H.” You said, barely above a whisper. “I’m not sure why this is happening. Everything was perfect and now I just want to… I want to -”

“Want to what, my love?”

“Leave.” You choked out. “I’m already half gone. My body’s here but my mind isn’t, I don’t know how to bring myself back. I don’t know if I want to come back at all. I hate this world.”

“You’ve been really distant lately - not like before. This time, you don’t even look at me, you don’t try to talk.” Harry wasn’t angry, he wasn’t even hurt because he knew you couldn’t control what was going on. He was, however, more worried than he’d ever been.

“I don’t mean to be like this,” you let out a shaky breath as you feel the tears coming back. “Don’t want to be like this…” You were crying again, he felt your warm tears on his chest. “I’m really sorry, H. I’m sorry for yelling.”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare apologise. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, my love. I know none of this is your fault, and I’m sorry for getting mad. But we’ll get through this. You’ll get through this, you always do.” Harry told you quietly and kissed your forehead, then he gave your body a small squeeze, it was his way of saying ’you’ve got this’.

“I know,” you whispered. “I’m just tired of taking steps backwards, you know? I’m twenty-three, H, I just wanna feel content. No fake happy, no lying. Why can’t I have that?”

“I promise you, one day, whenever that may be, that you will be the happiest woman in the world. I’ll make sure of that.” When you didn’t reply for a few moments, Harry realised that you had fallen asleep. He smiled to himself, knowing that you didn’t cry yourself to sleep this time. He’s happy that you fell asleep peacefully.

“I promise, we’ll be alright.” 


What do you think? I hope you enjoyed, let me know if you want a part two or request anything else you want.

Starry Night - Harry Styles

A/N: first ever Harry Styles imagine, hope it’s not too bad, feedback would be appreciated. Also it jumps around a bit from scene to scene. If people like it I might do a second part, also if anyone wants more info on the fake dates they go on I could write separate things for how they go (like spin off things) xx

Originally posted by fallenangelsl


 "I wish the sky looked this amazing all of the time" y/n spoke to Harry as they lay on top of her bed sheets looking up at the ceiling. 

Harry had both arms propped under his head, his hair sticking up in all directions. All the lights were off and y/n had hundreds of glow in the dark stars adorning the ceiling and walls of her dorm room. She often found herself laying there when things got too much, turning the lights off and admiring how peaceful it could be.

 "Yeah, it would be amazing to find somewhere clear enough to actually see them. Bloody light pollution" Harry spoke making her turn her face to look at him and chuckle.

 Harry and y/n had been best friends for years. From the first day they met; when Harry sat down next to her in science class, to the day they went to the same university. 

 "I forgot to tell you earlier" harry spoke suddenly perking up. He sat up slightly on his side to face her. “But you know that girl I was telling you about the other day”

 "Yeah" she encourage him now looking straight at him.

 "She smiled at me today" Harry said smiling happily at the thought, replaying it back in his mind again and again.

 "That’s great! She knows you exists now!“ Y/n spoke excited for him. Harry seemed to really like this girl, always talking about her even though he had never spoken to him before, y/n just wanted him to be happy. He did deserve it after all. 

She was only a little worried for him. This girl - Carla ran with a different crowd than Harry and Y/n. She was a cheerleader, popular and always surrounded by a large group of friends. 

 Whereas Harry and y/n couldn’t be more of the opposite, their group just consisted of the two of them. But they liked it that way. University didn’t have specific cliques. No one really knew anyone except for those who were cheerleaders or played on sports teams. 

 "Yeah, I couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the lecture” he laughed at himself “pathetic right?“ 

 "It’s kinda sweet” she replied smiling although she couldn’t fully see him in the dark, she knew he would be blushing. 

 "I can dream” he spoke sadly. 

 "Hey..“ She said softly, sensing the sadness on his voice. “Don’t say that, I know for sure your dreams will come true”.

 "Thanks” he smiled smally, not believing her, but he knew she wouldn’t let it go if he disagreed. 

 Y/n was the best person he knew. She had the kindest heart, there wasn’t a word that came out of her mouth that was bad. Sometimes he worried about her. She seemed so full of hope for the world- he was worried that one day she would see the world for what it truly was. He never wanted that day to happen.

 "I’m not her type" harry spoke “I have absolutely no experience of anything like that!“ 

 "That doesn’t matter” she spoke.

“I’m never going to make the first move when I’ve never asked someone on a date before or even been on one!” Harry exclaimed, sighing at his lack of experience and understanding.

 "I believe you can if you really want to” y/n spoke in concern at the state he was getting himself into. He had fully sat up, a hand running through his hair in stress.

“w-why don’t you teach me?” Harry spoke his hand stopping. He looked at y/n eyes pleading with her. 

 "What do you mean?“ She asked hesitantly, shocked at the thought. Her face had frozen, the thought of going on a date with Harry- even if it was just a pretend one, scared her to bits.

 She didn’t think she could handle that. Going on dates with him but it all being an act. It would hurt her heart beyond repair knowing its not real.

 "Don’t be silly” she laughed playing it off “you don’t need my help, you can do it yourself Harry" 

 "Please y/n, I’m begging you, it will make me feel more comfortable and it will build up my confidence, please” harry begged desperately. She sighed deeply, closing her eyes momentarily. 

 "Okay okay, fine" she spoke faking a laugh, she always gave in so easily to him.

 "Thank you so much" he sighed collapsing back on her bed to look up at the ceiling. “So where would you want to go on the first date?“ 

 "That’s your job to decide” she spoke glancing at him amused.

 "This is why I need your help, help to decide where I would take her once I ask her out” he spoke.

“Fine, um…” She looked up at the glowing stars in her room thinking if her ideal first date. Truth is she had never been on dates to places she would want to go. In fact she had never been on a successful date, they all ended in a somewhat disaster. “We could go see real stars, find somewhere we can actually see them”

 "How cliche" harry chuckled. 

 "Isn’t that what dates are meant to be?“ She said raising an eyebrow.

 ————————————————————————————————

 "Holy shit, it’s … Beautiful” harry spoke softly.

 It was the first fake date they had been on and they were sitting on the bonnet of Harry’s car, parked at the highest point in the city giving a view of all the houses and roads below; a shared blanket around their shoulders while they looked up at the pitch black sky.

 They were further away from the city out here meaning they could see the silvery stars littered across the night sky.

 Y/n admired how it looked like scattered fairy dust; it was magical. She turned to admire Harry watching the sky in amazement, his mouth parted in wonder. She traced her eyes across his jaw line, imagining what it would be like it this was a real date. Would she be allowed to trace her fingers across his cheek and down to his lips before kissing him softly?

 She mentally shook herself out of her trance, knowing the more she thought about if the more it would hurt. This wasn’t a real date, this was her helping a friend gain experience to take some one else; someone who was not her out.

 "Do you think she will like this?“ Harry asked suddenly turning to look at her.

 Y/n quickly looked up so she wouldn’t be caught staring. 

 "I think she’d be silly not to” she smiled softly at him, meeting his eyes.

 —————————————————————————————————–  The fake dates continued over the weeks. Harry and y/n had covered a lot if their city; bowling; drive in cinema; laser tagging; fancy dinners at fancy restaurants; shitty dinners at shitty diners. 

Tonight they were going to the beach. A picnic next to the sea.

 They had a red tartan blanket laid on the sand, cans of cider in their hands while they talked about everything. Maybe they had drunk a little more than they planned but they were having fun, that’s all that mattered.

 "Let’s go skinny dipping!“ Harry said energetically, standing up quickly and nearly staggering over. Y/n drunkenly laughed at him. 

 "It’s too cold harry! You’ll get hypothermia or something!” She giggled standing up to try and stop him. But harry had pulled his top off, working on his trousers.

 "Harry..“ She spoke as her voice caught in her throat. She sudden felt sober, taking In every detail of her best friend, she admired his beauty until he started running towards the sea.

 "Come on!” He shouted while running straight into the water. 

 "Harry!“ She shouted over at him ” oh fuck" she called as she watched him fall over into the sea. She ran after him, throwing her top off on the way, leaving behind a trail of clothes. 

 The water was freezing and she let out a small scream as she swam her way over to harry who was now standing up, admiring the reflection of the moon in the water.

 "Jesus Christ Harry" she spoke as she reached him, her hand touching his arm gently, gaining his attention. He looked at her smiling softly as she shivered.

 "You look beautiful you know" he spoke. Y/n let out a shocked laugh.

 "Shut up" she spoke looking away almost shyly. 

 "Honestly..“ He spoke, his voice soft.

 "Harry..” She whispered as his hand cupped her cheek. His thumb tracing over her bottom lip, eyes flicking down to them. He leaned forward, brushing their lips together, she leaned in slightly which was all harry needed to press his lips more firmly to hers. His hands found their way to her waist pulling his flush against him while the water from the sea hit their bare skin.

 "We should probably go" she whispered when they pulled away. She was met with an intense stare from Harry and he watched her walk out of the sea, picking her trail of clothes up as she went. He followed after her doing the same.

 ——————————————————————————————————–

  They hasn’t spoken about that night since. 

 Harry had just dumped his books onto the lunch table y/n was sitting at, making her jump. She looked up greeting him before hurriedly writing in her text book. They sat in silence for a bit before y/n went to speak. 

 "I was thinking about going to prom" she said casually only soaring a quick glance at Harry before looking back to her work.

 "You? At prom" he laughed stopping his work and looking at her amused.

 "Yeah" she spoke. She was building up the courage to ask him to go with her. “I was thinking-”

 "I’m going to ask Carla Tomorrow" he spoke not meaning to interrupt her “I’m going to walk straight up to her and ask” he had a new found confidence within.

 "Oh… that’s great Harry!“ She spoke trying to sound enthusiastic.

 "So you’re being serious about going?” He asked her still amused at the thought, leaning back in his chair to look at her.

 "We’ll- probably not, I don’t know “ she mumbled looking interested in her work.

 "I could set you up with someone?” He said.

 "Nah, that’s alright.“ She spoke “I’ll probably do something else”

 ——————————————————————————————————

  “I did it!” Harry announced loudly as y/n walked over to Harry’s car to get a lift home.

 "Done what?“

 "I asked Carla, and she said yes!” He spoke proudly. 

 "Oh wow, that’s-harry that’s great!“ She spoke trying not to let any emotions slide. 

 "I’m taking her on a date tomorrow” he said.

“Where to?” Y/n asked curiously. 

 "Like the first fake date we went on, to see the stars” he said excitedly not knowing or realizing how much it hurt her to hear him say.  

She knew it was bound to happen one day, but she didn’t think it would be so soon; she thought she still had time, that things between her and Harry were progressing into more than friends. 

But y/n only had herself to blame. Harry had made it clear from the start that the end goal was not her.

—————————————————————————————————-  

Harry was extremely nervous. His hands were sweating and he was rubbing them against his trousers while trying to keep his focus on driving. He could see the sweat on the steering wheel from the tips of his fingers. 

Carla was sat in the passenger seat making small conversation. But Harry was too nervous to hear what she was actually saying. 

What if this date was a disaster and she told all her friends and then he would never have the chance to date some one again, he would have to drop out of uni in humiliation. 

Pulling up to the same spot y/n had showed him, they both stepped out of his car, sitting themselves on the bonnet to look over the city.

“this is amazing Harry, I never knew it existed! how did you find this place?” she asked. 

Harry’s mind flickered to y/n. 

“my friend showed it me once” he said with a small smile as he pictured the excitement on y/n’s face when she first brought Harry here. His thoughts moved on to the image of him and y/n laying on her bed and looking up at the glow in the dark stars on her ceiling. 

“what? that girl ’you’re always with around uni?”

“yeah, y/n. She’s my best friend” he spoke smiling. 

—————————————————————————————————

“she loved it!” Harry spoke as soon as y/n stepped into his car. 

“that’s great” she spoke not really interested. She had about 3 hours sleep and couldn’t take the energy in Harry’s voice, it was too early.

“someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today!” he said shooting her a charming smile as he pulled out of the car park.

The ride was silent as y/n leaned against the window ready to fall asleep.

“she invited us to sit with her and her friends today” Harry spoke once he parked on the campus and turned the engine off. 

“what do you mean us?” y/n frowned. 

“she invited you too” he spoke as if obvious. 

“why would she do that she doesn’t know who I am”

“she asked about you last night” Harry said.

“oh”

—————————————————————————————————–

“im taking her on the beach date today” Harry spoke as soon as he sat down next to y/n once he spotted her on the campus.

y/n looked up not hearing him sat down next to her.

“oh, that will be nice” she spoke turning back to her book.

Harry hadn’t seen much of y/n the past few weeks. She had suddenly become more interested in getting her work done, spending evenings in the library or reading. He missed her.

“what’s up?” he asked nudging her playfully but he got no response. “y/n?”

“yeah?” 

“what’s up and don’t avoid my question” he spoke concerned. 

“just tired” she mumbled straining a smile. “anyway, tell me about what you have planned then? she said putting her book down and pretending to be interested now to get him off her back. “don’t tell me you’re going to go skinny dipping” she chuckled at the memory. 

“well, i’m not against it if she’s not” Harry smirked suggestively, laughing. Y/n fake laughed along. 

“well i’m sure you will have a great time” she spoke looking at him, tracing her eyes over his face and seeing his genuine smile. 

————————————————————————————————–

Harry was having a moment of deja vu. Here he was sitting on a red picnic blanket on the sand, chatting about anything and everything with a girl. But the only difference was that it wasn’t y/n sat next to him. 

Instead it was the girl of his dreams. Or so he thought. 

He couldn’t help but compare the two girls. 

He knew he shouldn’t. But he couldn’t help it. He just didn’t seem to have as much fun on these real dates than he did with y/n. 

He found himself uninterested in the topics Carla spoke about. He didn’t care about her friends who were sleeping with her other friends. Harry didn’t like gossip and that’s one of the reasons him and y/n got on so well. 

Harry couldn’t help but feel like maybe he had fucked up somewhere along the line. 

The girl in front of him now just wasn’t the girl for him. 

He couldn’t imagine her standing in the sea just several meters away from where they sat. He couldn’t imagine pressing his lips against hers while the water surrounded them. It was wrong. He shouldn’t have even brought her here in the first place. 

In fact he shouldn’t have even asked her out.

“harry?” Carla spoke “Harry?”

Her voice brought him out of his train of thought.

“yeah?”

“are you even listening to me?” she spoke a tone of annoyance in her voice. 

“sorry, you were saying?” he said now turning to face her to pay attention. 

“forget it. Why don’t you just take me home?” she spoke

“w-what?” Harry asked surprised

“oh come on. you know this isn’t working.” Carla spoke. “honestly, it’s okay. I see the way you look at her” 

“who?” 

“your so-called best friend” she spoke

“what do you mean?” Harry said panicked. 

“it’s okay to fall in love with your best friend you know” Carla spoke, her voice soft. 

“i’m not in love with y/n” Harry spoke uncertainly making Carla laugh. 

“friendship can be an excuse Harry” she spoke. “and you don’t sound too certain about that”

Harry had gone silent. 

“come on” she laughed standing up “lets go” 

“I - shit” Harry spoke running his hand through his hair. 

“I can’t believe it took you this long to figure it out” Carla laughed at the brown haired boy. At the end of the day she understood that you never expect to fall in love with the people you do, but when you know; you know. You would be silly to let anyone or anything stand in your way of love.

Cause and Reward

A NSFW incubus story submitted by @thatweirdlittlegothgirl

Word count: 2187


You flipped the light on, flickering a gross yellow. Your apartment complex wasn’t the Ritz by any means, but it was a roof over your head. Plenty of mould around that you couldn’t scrub away, but if you could find somewhere else it would definitely be worth complaining to the landlord to guarantee your deposit back.

You stood in front of the dingy mirror and looked around in the reflection, before taking the time to examine your face a little more for any unsightly bumps that might have appeared as of late…stress-acne.

Work was the cause of that; the office cliques seemed to be relentless as of late, talking about the Christmas party coming up and what everyone was gonna wear. You wanted to wear that cute outfit you’ve been saving up for, but you weren’t sure it would look good on you. Not on your large body, you thought. After being mocked all the way to the punch-out pad, you came home to a welcoming bottle of alcohol.

After washing your face, you buried it in a towel to dry. Pulling it back, you noticed an additional figure staring back at you from the mirror. It leaned down to you to whisper in your ear.

“Set me free,” it breathed. 

Keep reading

Like I said before, I never watch any show for ships… why? cause we always get hurt at the end and stop ourselves from really enjoying the show as a whole. I am like that with everything I watch. I need to like the story.

I LOVE Superman lore, and also Supergirl… since Smallville days, I research, read, watch everything I can. I’m not stuck only with a character.

I liked Karamel, I shipped. I also understand he went to the future like in comics, met the Legion and lived there thinking he would never ever see Kara again, since he was in the 31st century. I’m not mad at him. In comics they have a brief thing but she ends up with Brainiac… (she used to have a crush on Nightwing but we won’t see him in the Arrowverse anytime soon I’m sure hahaha)

I feel bad for Kara right now, and I know she will recover. I know she will heal. She just needs time. 

The Legion stuff on Supergirl will be awesome, and Brainiac 5 is coming. All the Justice League Unlimited feelings are coming back and I’m excited for it.

So no, I won’t drop Supergirl or any other DCTV show. I like ships but they are not my focus. 

Tom and Lin-Manuel: An Appreciation/Jealous Rant

Every writer has a golden period – a chunk of time when her brain is ripest, when the veins he is tapping are the richest, when the ideas, big and small, spill out over the sides of the bucket instead of having to be patiently collected like drops of rain off a leaf. This is true for songwriters, playwrights, novelists, screenwriters, anyone who writes anything in any genre. Go look at John Hughes’s IMDb page and marvel at his golden period, which I would bookend as 1983-1990. It’s outrageous. He wrote Vacation, Mr. Mom, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Weird Science, Pretty in Pink, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Some Kind of Wonderful, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, Uncle Buck, and Home Alone in eight years. Eight years?! That’s absurd.

But then look at his next 20 years. You won’t find one movie that is better than the worst one he wrote in those seven years. The vein ran dry. It always does. That’s just the deal.

Tom Petty’s golden period never ended. Or, at least, the silver periods on either side of his golden period were seemingly infinite. No matter where you think he peaked – Full Moon Fever, or Wildflowers, or Damn the Torpedoes – the decades on either side were wonderful. He was great from the moment he released his first album in 1977 to the day he died last month. For forty years he wrote, and wrote, and wrote, and the songs he wrote were good or great or amazing.

Tom Petty wrote “Breakdown” and “American Girl” in 1977. He wrote “You Don’t Know How it Feels” seventeen years later, in 1994. He wrote “You Got Lucky” in 1982, “King’s Highway” in 1992, “The Last DJ” in 2002. He wrote “I Won’t Back Down,” “Runnin’ Down a Dream,” Free Fallin’,” “Love is a Long Road,” “A Face in the Crowd,” Yer So Bad,” and “The Apartment Song,” and “Depending on You,” all in 1989, and they were all on the same album, and that’s absurd.

He wrote “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around” in 1981 and “Big Weekend” in 2006. He wrote every song on Wildflowers – and they are all great – in or around 1994. He wrote fifty other great songs I haven’t named yet, like “Don’t Come Around Here No More” and “Jammin Me.” He wrote great songs you’ve heard a million times, and great songs you’ve maybe never heard, like “Billy the Kid” (1999) and “Walls” (1996) which was buried on the soundtrack to She’s the One.  He took a break from the Heartbreakers and casually released “End of the Line” and “Handle With Care” and “She’s My Baby” with the Traveling Wilburys in 1989-90. He wrote “Refugee” in 1980 and “I Should Have Known It” in 2010. Is there any rock and roll songwriter alive who wrote two songs that good, 30 years apart? (Paul McCartney wrote “Hey Jude” in 1968, and only 12 years later he wrote “Wonderful Christmas Time,” which is so bad it nearly retroactively undid “Hey Jude.”)

He wrote about rock and roll things, like ’62 Cadillacs, getting out of this town, and dancing with Mary Jane. He wrote about love and loss and heartbreak. He wrote legitimately funny jokes, and moribund memories, and personal narratives, and imaginative flights of fancy. One of his characters calls his father his “old man” and it somehow isn’t cheesy. He was from Florida and California and wrote about both of them, and every time I’m on Ventura Boulevard I think of vampires, because the images he wrote are indelible. 

Petty didn’t just write songs directed at women, like most rock stars. He wrote about women, and he wrote for women, and he wrote with women. He treated the women in his songs as lovingly and respectfully as he treated the men. He cared about them as much, he spent as much time thinking about them, and he liked them as much, and all of that is rare.

He wrote simply, but not boringly. He made his characters three-dimensional, somehow, in a matter of seconds. There’s a famous (probably apocryphal) story about Hemingway bragging he could write an entire novel in six words, then writing: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” I prefer the 18-word novel Petty wrote as the first verse to “Down South” –

Headed back down south
Gonna see my daddy’s mistress
Gonna buy back her forgiveness
Pay off every witness

When I was working on Parks and Recreation, whenever we needed a song to score an important moment in Leslie Knope’s life, we chose a Tom Petty song. It started with “American Girl,” when her biggest career project came to fruition. It was “Wildflowers” when she said goodbye to her best friend. It was “End of the Line” at the moment the show ended. For the seven seasons of our show, Tom Petty was the writer we trusted to explain how our main character was feeling, because he wrote so much, so well, for so long.

*******

It seems like a joke, Hamilton – a joke in a TV show where one of the characters is a struggling New York actor, and is always dragging his friends to his terrible plays. Like Joey in Friends. There’s an episode of Friends where Joey is in a terrible musical called like Freud!, about Sigmund Freud, and you get to see some of it, and it’s predictably terrible. Freud! the musical is arguably a better idea than Hamilton the musical.

I’m far from the first person to say this – I’m probably somewhere around the millionth person to write about Hamilton, and the maybe 500,000th to make this particular point, but it needs to be said – a hip-hop Broadway musical about the founding fathers is an astoundingly terrible idea. Lin-Manuel Miranda should never have written it. As soon as he started to write it, he should’ve said to himself, “What the fuck am I doing?!” and stopped. And after he got halfway through, he should’ve junked it, gotten really drunk, and moved on with his life, and made his wife and friends swear to never mention the weird six months where he was trying to write a hip-hop musical about Alexander Hamilton. I literally guarantee you that when Lin-Manuel Miranda first told his friends what he was writing, every one of them reacted with at best a frozen smile, and at worst a horrified recoiling. Some of them might have been outwardly encouraging – “sounds awesome bud! Go get ‘em!” But then later, alone, they would call each other and say What the fuck is he doing?

There is a moment, in Hamilton, when what you are watching overwhelms you. (It’s not the same moment for everyone, but most everyone has one, I suspect.) It’s the moment when the enormity, the complexity, the meaning of it, the entirety of it, overpowers you, and you realize that what you are experiencing is new – new both in your specific life, and new, like, on Earth.  The first time I saw it, that moment was a line in the middle of “Yorktown.” Hamilton sang the line And so the American experiment begins / With my friends all scattered to the winds, and I burst into tears in a way I hadn’t since I was 10 and a baseball went through a guy’s legs in the World Series. Something about how casually he says that – And so the American experiment begins – just settled over me, like a collapsing tent, and this thing I was watching wasn’t in front of me, it was everywhere around me, and it was exhilarating and transformative.

(If I could put this part in a footnote, I would, but I don’t know how to, so: I should mention that I am very far from a musical theater aficionado. I have seen maybe eight musicals in my life. Not only did I not expect to cry, hard, during Hamilton, I did not expect to enjoy it. I saw it like a week after it opened on Broadway, kind of on a whim, knew nothing about it, and the last thing I said to my wife, as the lights went down, was: “We’ll leave at intermission.”)

The second time I saw it, that moment came much earlier (I knew what I was getting into, this time, so I was more ready to be subsumed). It came barely three minutes in, when the entire cast of the show, in a piece of choreography that can best be referred to as “badass,” all walk down to the very front of the stage and stand, shoulder to shoulder, and sing very loudly about how Alexander Hamilton never learned to take his time. The cast has, to this point, trickled on stage, slowly, one by one, telling you Hamilton’s origin story, and then suddenly there they all are, all of them – maybe 20? 50? It seems like 1000? – as close to the audience as they can get, and they are every size and ethnicity and gender, and their voices are loud, and I thought to myself, oh my God, this is a cast of people descended from every nation on Earth, all singing about the foundations of the American experience, and yes I “knew” that, intellectually, but holy shit, now that I see them all, I know it, like in my stomach, I understand it, and what a thing that is.

The third time I saw Hamilton, that moment was during “It’s Quiet Uptown,” when this enormous, sprawling, improbable, otherworldly, multi-ethnic, historical, art tornado presses pause on all of its historical-cultural-ethno-sociological-artistic investigations, and spends four and a half spare minutes with a couple who are grieving an unimaginable tragedy.  Specifically, it was the lines

Forgiveness
Can you imagine?
Forgiveness
Can you imagine?

What a thing to do, for your characters – to give them four and a half minutes in the middle of an enormous, sprawling, historical swirl, to just be sad. What a piece of writing that is.

(Again, should be a footnote, but: as long as I’m talking about writers here, I should point out that if the late Harris Wittels were alive, he would, at this moment, text me and hit me with a “humblebrag” for writing about how I have seen Hamilton three times, and he would be right. Miss you Harris!)

In the hundreds of hours of my life I have spent thinking about Hamilton since I first saw it – far more hours than any other single piece of art I have ever experienced – I have revisited that same thought over and over: he never should’ve written it. It was an absurd thing to do. It took him a year to write the title song, then another year to write the second song, and how did he not give up when two years had gone by and he’d written two songs?  He must’ve known in his heart it needed to be a 50-song, 2 ½-hour enterprise, and he had two songs after two years, and he kept going. How did he keep going? I’ve been trying to write this blog post about two writers I admire for different reasons since the week Tom Petty died, and I’ve almost given up five times.

At this point, the entire musical is that “moment” for me. It’s the whole thing, now – the thing that overwhelms me is the whole thing. The conception of it, the writing of it, the rewriting of it. The music and the motifs and the themes and the threads and the dramatic shape and the characters and their inner lives, and the eagle-eye writer’s view it took to keep all of that in his head, all of it, the whole time. The writing of it. The utterly impossible writing of it. 

little reputation things™
  • *ahem*
  • BUMMM BUMM BUM BUMMMM BUMM BUMM KNEW HE WAS A KILLA
  • i i i i  see how this is gon go
  • “but if i’m a thief then he can join the heist”
  • baby let the games begin! let the games begin! ahAH AHHHHHHHH
  • GETTING .5 SECONDS INTO END GAME AND UNDERSTANDING WHY THE ALBUM IS CALLED REPUTATION
  • ahHHH and ya heard about me”
  • ed sheeran rapping on a taylor swift song
  • “i swear i don’t love the drama IT LOVES ME”
  • ed in the background of the last chorus: “be yoUR A TEAM NOW”
  • the string plucky things in the beginning of i did something bad
  • “if a man talks shit then i owe him nothing”
  • THEN WHY’S IT FEEL SO BANG BANG GOOD BANG BANG GOOD
  • “and i’d do it over and over and over again if iiiii could”
  • RAH DI DI DI DI DI DI DI DI DI DAHHHHH 
  • “they’re burning all the witches even if you aren’t one”
  • taylor apparently wanting to be set on fire
  • ((agreed))
  • the harmonies on this album filling my entire soul
  • “oHHH LORD SAVE ME MY DRUG IS MY BABY I’LL BE USING FOR THE REST OF MY LIIIIIIIIFE” aka the only prayer i’ll ever say again
  • i get so high OH… trip of my life OH
  • the way she sings “using for the rest of my life oHH OH OH OHHH” after the bridge damn son
  • “my reputation’s never been worse so he must like me for me”
  • taylor finally discovering alcohol
  • the way she says “coz i know that it’s delicate” so…. delicately
  • how delicate feels like a rain shower in a desert
  • :) i :) don’t :) like :) your :) little :) games :)
  • OH look what you made me do
  • “i don’t like your kingdom keys, they once belonged to me”
  • “i’m sorry the old taylor can’t come to the phone right now. why? oh! BECAUSE SHE’S DEAD” is singlehandedly the most iconic thing i have ever and will ever hear.
  • so it goes being chill and then the chORUS AND ALL THE PIECES FALL!!! RIGHT INTO PLACE!!!
  • ;) scratches ;) down ;) your ;) back ;) now ;)
  • o n e  t w o  t h r e e
  • how getaway car is the only song i ever want to hear ever again
  • WE NEVER HAD A SHOTGUN SHOT IN THE DARK
  • think about the place where you first met me
  • “there were sirens in the beat of your heart”
  • the way she says getaway
  • the chorus of this song feeling like driving down a highway with the windows rolled down in the middle of the night
  • GO! GO! GO!
  • being part of a heist, leaving money in a bag in a shady motel, stealing keys and getting tf out in her getaway car. zoom zoom bitch.
  • COS NOTHING GOOD STARTS IN A GETAWAY CAR
  • “all the boys in their expensive cars, the range rovers and jaguars never took me quite where you do” calvin harris WHOM
  • the drums in king of my heart are more important than my need to breathe
  • “your love is a secret i’m hoping, dreaming, dying to keep”
  • ~up on the roof with a school girl crussshhhh drinking beer outta plastic cupsssss~
  • i’ll never let you goOOO
  • but we were dancing BASS DROP dancing with our hANDS TIED, HANDS TIED
  • “oh baby can we dance, through an avalanche?”
  • “swaying as the room burnt down, i’d hold you as the water rushes in” …. “so i punched a hole in the roof, let the flood carry away all my pictures” ….. h e c k
  • fiRST TIME FIRST TIIIIMEE OH 
  • how dress is literally an orgasm turned into a song and i’m… into it
  • take it oH OH OH OH OFFFF
  • “carve your name into my bedpost”
  • “but if i get burnt at least we were electrified”
  • wildest dreams who???
  • “and i woke up just in time, now i wake up by your side”
  • say my name and everything just stops -EVERYTHING STOPS-
  • THE ALARM BELLS IN THE BEGINNING OF NICE THINGS
  • ra’lin’ the chandilier
  • THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE! THINGS! DAR!LIN!!!
  • AWaaaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAAY
  • “and therein lies the issue, friends don’t try to trick you, get you on the phone and mind twist you”
  • the sound of shots being fired from every possible angle
  • if only you weren’t…. so shadyyyyy :)
  • they don’t care about the HE SAID SHE SAID
  • the way she says “and here’s to my baaabyyy
  • the organ?? piano???? during “and hereeee’s to youuu…” oh my god
  • CACKLE “I CAN’T EVEN SAY IT WITH A STRAIGHT FACE”
  • her voice at the end when she just says “nice things” 
  • her world crumbling around her and that’s just fine?? because of joe???? i wasn’t ready 
  • I’M THE ONE HE’S WALKING TOOOOOOO
  • “loves me like i’m brand new”
  • “all my flowers grew back as thorns” …. “all the flowers that we’d grown together died of thirst” again…. clean WHOM
  • I’M DOIN BETTER THAN I EVER WAASSSS
  • i’m laughing with my lover makin forts under covers trust him like a brother yeah you know i did one thing right
  • not because he owns me but cos he really knows me. which is more than they can say.
  • “you don’t need to save me, but would you run away with me?” “yes.” :’)
  • call it what you want is the lightest, softest pink sunrise seen from the window of a peaceful airplane in the early morning of a good day
  • how we went from pop anthems to??? i’m bawling in a sea of tissues on my bedroom floor at two in the morning and new year’s day is the most beautiful song i’ve ever heard??? 
  • it’s just a guitar and a piano and she’s harmonizing with herself
  • “don’t read the last page, but i stay”
  • “i want your midnights, and i’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year’s day”
  • “i can tell that it’s gonna be a long road” as in she knows that even if it’ll be a long road they’ll always be together don’t TOUCH me
  • hold on to the memories, they will hold onto you
  • hold on to the memories, they will hold onto you
  • hold on to the memories, they will hold onto you
  • and i will hold onto you
  • “please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh i could recognize anywhere”
  • oh cool my heart’s shattered into a million pieces this is fine thanks
  • how there’s ten seconds of silence at the end of new year’s day because you bet your ass i need recovery time before the album starts over again and i gotta get back to boppin’
  • BUMMM BUMM BUMM BUMMMM BUMM BUMM KNEW HE WAS A KILLA 
  • ((they were not ready for it))
;the touch of silk (m)

pairing: min yoongi x reader, sugar daddy! yoongi, vampire! yoongi
genre/warnings: smut, romance, blood mentions, but nothing too crazy, dirty talk, dom! Yoongi
words: 14,221

:: summary— in a world where vampires coexist with the living, there are many humans looking for a cheap thrill…you’re ashamed to admit you’re curious too, putting to good use a dating app you find…but Min Yoongi is nothing like you imagined a vampire to be…

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BTS replaced you. - pt.2

[pt.1] [pt.2] [pt.3] [pt.END]


Originally posted by fairybcby

After the conversation we shared I muted the conversation, there was nothing I wanted to hear anymore and nothing I wanted to do but sleep. I was curious of what they had to say, if anything at all but at the same time I didn’t want to know because they probably don’t think it’s a big deal they’ve missed my birthday three years in a row. I sat at my dining room table, staring at the candlelit cake in front of me. It was their favourite, strawberry flavour and just looking at it reminded me of them and how they won’t be here again to share this too large cake for one with me.

For so long I believed that we were best friends, that we were inseparable and nothing or no one could come between the friendship we shared because we had been through so much with one another. But I was wrong. They let her get between us. I don’t want to be a selfish brat that I’m seeming to be, but they just forgot me so easily after spending a week with her, wouldn’t that hurt you? They used to be the first people to say happy birthday to me, even if they were away they’d never forget to FaceTime me at 12am - but this year, even though we were supposed to celebrate, they didn’t call at 12, they didn’t send me a text. Because they forgot, and they left me waiting for them like a fool standing outside the restaurant in the winter cold holding my own birthday cake. They promised. They promised that they were going to celebrate with me this year for sure, they even made sure they had no schedule clashes today so that we could celebrate, but just like that they forgot and I was replaced with someone new, someone better.

People looked at me funny, people who walked into the restaurant, had their meal and came back out to see me still standing there alone - they all looked at me with pity in their eyes. ‘That girl must’ve got stood up’ must be what they were all thinking. Yeah I was stood up by my seven best friends. The entire week they’ve been hanging out, the entire week they’ve dismissed me. ‘If it was important we would have remembered’ ‘Clearly wasn’t all that important’, that hurt to say the least, it only told me how much I didn’t mean to them, making it clear to me that they don’t need me in their lives anymore because they have someone new, someone that let’s them have the personal space that they needed and I understood now. I was only ever thinking of myself and what I wanted. Maybe they didn’t forget, maybe this was their way to tell me that our friendship is over. 

I blew out the candle without making a wish, wishes don’t come true. I’ve wished for the same thing the last two years and each following year I end up getting disappointed. I crawled into bed and went to sleep, eyes slightly wet from crying. But a few hours later, I heard my phone ring; I picked up without even checking the caller ID. 

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“He was lost, Cas. Our last hunt, he almost didn’t make it back and said he saw Billie.”

“He saw Billie?” Castiel parroted. They were both still in the war room in the bunker, the aftermath of recent events still fresh and new in their minds as Sam recounted what happened while Castiel had been “away.” 

“Yeah, and it wasn’t great.” Sam bit his lip. “Cas, When Mom disappeared…when you died. I think it broke him to a point where he couldn’t come back from it and deal with his grief. More than one night he’s had nightmares where I’d have to get him out and it’s always your name that’d he’d scream.”

“Grief is a complex emotion that is difficult to understand. The both of you have suffered with it greatly, but I have passed before.” Castiel paused, cognizant the statement should make no sense to anyone else except for the three of them. “He had been in grief then but had managed to find a way out. What made this time different?”

“I saw your wings, Cas.” A voice interrupted them from the threshold of the war room.

It clicked in Castiel’s head then. Understandable. "Dean.”

Keep reading

Never Her

Originally posted by inlovewithacriminals

Pairing: Loki x Reader (ft. the Avengers)

Content/Warnings: Angst; fluff

Words: 1544

A/N: So my Soulmate AU writing extravaganza begins with Loki, my MCU husband. I’ll probably end up writing these Soulmate AUs to be a little longer. This was a request for @bi-pie67 for 7. Your internal voice is the voice of your soulmate’s, rather than your own.


“Are you sure bringing Loki back to the Tower is a good idea?” You asked Thor dubiously. Steve seemed to reflect your sentiment, looking just as doubtful.

“I assure you, Loki will not get into any trouble,” Thor said. “He seems to have had a change of heart, and my father has ensured that he will be unable to use magic while here, at least until we are sure he is trustworthy.”

“I’m going to trust you on this, Point Break,” Tony said. “But if he destroys my tower again, I won’t be happy.”

“I am certain Loki will do no such thing,” Thor said. “I shall bring him here tomorrow, is that okay?” Everyone shrugged, still looking uneasy with the whole idea, though nobody raised any objection to that. “Marvelous! He shall be here tomorrow, then.”

Clint snorted. Out of everyone, he was, understandably, the least excited. “Can’t wait.”

You hadn’t actually been around for the whole Loki debacle, and admittedly you were a little curious to meet Thor’s brother. Some rather colorful tales had been told by the rest of the Avengers about Thor’s ‘crazy adopted brother’, but you wanted to find out for yourself. Plus, as someone who was still waiting to find their soulmate, there was always the little ‘what if it’s him’ in the back of your mind. Your soulmate, at least from what you always heard in your internal voice, sounded British… almost. You couldn’t put your finger on the accent, but it was similar to Thor’s.

“Up and at ‘em, sunshine!” Tony’s voice came over the speakers in the tower the following morning. “Good ol’ Reindeer Games will be here today, so we gotta make sure everyone is ready. You know, just in case he goes rabid reindeer on our asses. That’s all. Over and out.”

Groaning, you rolled out of bed, pulling on some presentable clothes and making sure you were ready to meet Thor and Loki. Thor had informed everyone that he would arrive around noon, giving everyone ample time to get ready. You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a cup of coffee that Steve had made and sitting at the table.

“Sleep okay?” Steve asked, glancing up from his own cup.

“Yeah,”  You nodded. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“No problem. What do you think about Loki coming to stay here?” He asked you.

You shrugged. “Well, I’ve never met the guy, so it’s hard to say. Wary, but curious.”

“All I can say is, don’t get your hopes up too high,” He said with a snort. “I don’t trust the guy.”

“Guess we’ll have to find out,” You said.

Keep reading

Heartbreak never truly goes away.

Eventually, you stop crying yourself to sleep and the self-blame will dim. The questions as to why you weren’t good enough along with all that lost time spent in the shower retracing your last conversation will also stop too.

However, it will not be easy.

You are still going to wake up with them in your mind for weeks to come and similarly, they will be all you can think about before you sleep. Heartbreak is a bit like love in that respect, you think about them constantly except the thoughts are painful this time around.

Indeed, there are moments where you find shelter from these thoughts, a hot chocolate with a friend or an essay that requires your full attention. Your favourite song will come on but then that shuffled sad song will follow and trigger the thoughts all over again. This is inevitable so when it catches you off guard, let it all out. Do all you must to wash away the sadness. Call a friend, bake some cookies, go and lie on the floor with your dog and tell him you’re glad he wouldn’t ever hurt you like this.

Your heart will miss them so much it will use any excuse to search for them. The same model car they have will drive by while you are laughing away with your friends and suddenly you cannot breathe.
You might see someone with the same curly hair or the way the person sitting in front of you on the bus drums their fingers to a song will remind you of them. This too, is inevitable. Try to appreciate these small quirks because regardless of where you have ended up, these were once pieces of a puzzle that led to you falling in love and that is a beautiful thing.

Most importantly of all, you are going to want to run to them. You are going to want to share your day- whether it be good or bad- purely out of habit. You will miss the way they told you terrible jokes or sent you pictures of your favourite breed dog just to bring a smile to your face for the first time that day. You will miss how excited they got when you were excited- how happy they got when you were happy. Allow yourself to grieve this absence but remind yourself that they aren’t the only person who would be willing to devote so much effort to cheering you up. Let your loved ones know you’re sad and soak in the warmth of their kind words. 

And then, suddenly, a few weeks have passed and you think of them for the first time in three days and you realise that you are healing. You start to fill your time with people and things that make you happy. You suddenly crave adventure and new experiences and anything that makes you feel alive again. You stop beating yourself up and start to defend your corner like you are your own best friend. You put your hands up and admit your contribution to the downfall of it all but the difference is, you refuse to defend them any longer. You validate your pain and tell yourself that it is okay to hurt and that you just need time- the art of healing requires the same patience as a few broken bones.

The bond with your friends will strengthen if you let them in- please let them in. Spend time with them and regularly express how much you appreciate them. Feel good about telling loved ones that you love them. Do not shy away from this term because your heart is broken. Please remind yourself that this is not the end for you. Do not console yourself with the whole there are other fish in the sea rubbish because I know that despite how much pain they have caused, you still want them and you will continue to want them for a very long time. Instead, console yourself with the thought that your heart may be in two right now but bones do that sometimes and with a little support, healing is inevitable.

My darling, to break may not be beautiful while you’re going through it but it is, don’t you see? Even a glow stick has to crack to shine; think of how proud you will be when one day you can smile at yourself in the mirror and mean it again.

—  Heartbreak 101.

To those who say Jonerys will never happen in the books, just a quick reminder Dany has been dreaming of him, even if she has not seen his face yet…

Lying abed in her narrow bunk, she found herself wondering how it would be to have a man squeezed in beside her in place of her handmaid, and the thought was more exciting than it should have been. Sometimes she would close her eyes and dream of him, but it was never Jorah Mormont she dreamed of; her lover was always younger and more comely, though his face remained a shifting shadow.

Daenerys, ACOK

He was who he was; Jon Snow, bastard and oathbreaker, motherless, friendless, and damned. For the rest of his life –however long that might be– he would be condemned to be an outsider, the silent man standing in the shadows who dares not speak his true name

Jon, AGOT

The flames crackled softly, and in their crackling she heard the whispered name Jon Snow. His long face floated before her, limned in tongues of red and orange, appearing and disappearing again, a shadow half-seen behind a fluttering curtain.

Melisandre, ADWD

Jon’s face and presence is often referred to as being in the shadows, he’s always been the outsider, watching the Stark children play and even if he did play himself sometimes, he tried his best to avoid irritate Lady Stark, so he kept it to himself, as the bastard he was pained to be. 

Melisandre’s visions of him, from R’hllor himself is described as Jon’s shadow hidden…It’s not SO subtle how he’s always referred to be hidden there. 


A quick reminded that when he died, she listened to Ghost’s cries…from across THE NARROW SEA…

“Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger’s hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. “Ghost,” he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold … “

Jon, ADWD

“Off in the distance, a wolf howledThe sound made her feel sad and lonely, but no less hungry. As the moon rose above the grasslands, Dany slipped at last into a restless sleep.“

Daenerys, ADWD

These chapters happen at the same time, how can Daenerys Targaryen, in Meeren, listen to Jon’s murder at the Wall, North of Westeros, if not for the bond they have…without ever meeting. Call it soulmates, fate, whatever you want. Martin does not use words he does not think necessary nor he adds information that the story does not need. If you ever read one his books, you’ll know he’s sharp and everything means something, even the puzzles and riddles thrown our way. Daenerys heard his soul, Ghost’s cries (perhaps his own, warg ones), and she felt sad over it, not even knowing why.


A reminder that when Dany was at the House of the Undying, she only saw important, relevant things. Not only to herself, but to the realm: the rape of Westeros, The Red Wedding, the madness of Aerys Targaryen demanding to burn Kings Landing, Rhaegar and Elia talking of Aegon and his promised song, the fake dragon (Faegon, am I right?), Hardhome, what her son’s future would have been like, White Walkers, Rhaegar’s murmuring a woman’s name right before he died (we all assume is Lyanna’s, I guess we’ll find out eventually), and there are others, but to me it means a lot that one of these visions is:

a blue flower growing from a chink in a wall of ice, filling the air with sweetness.

Daenerys, ACOK

Oh, she also sees the red door of the house she loved and she remembers growing up, and she believed it was in Braavos. She only had important sights for the realm and herself, yet she sees a blue flower growing at the wall (if you don’t think this means Jon Snow growing at the Wall, we can’t be friends and you can’t even read this, bye! JK haha…but come on, Lyanna is said to have loved winter roses, which are blue…the same ones that composed the crown Rhaegar Targaryen crowned her with, as The Queen of Love and Beauty at the Tourney of Harrenhal. Jon lives, works, serves at the Wall, it doesn’t get any more obvious than this, y’all…only if Martin wrote she saw a ‘hot northmen with gorgeous hair at Castle Black, really…”). 

(whoever did this second gif, thank you so very much, this is beautiful <3)

So not only does this shows how important Jon is to the realm (remember how her visions are all important, not only to her but also to Westeros? *inserts my theory of them both being AA* But he’s also important to her, the flower is not just THERE, it also fills the air with sweetness, it pleases her. Do I need to say more? 


This one is very meaningful if not very telling, to me. They both feel alone, like something is missing. One can even say “they feel alone cause they are alone”, but they were not. It almost feels like there is someone out there, a better match. 

Beneath her coverlets she tossed and turned, dreaming that Hizdahr was kissing her … but his lips were blue and bruised, and when he thrust himself inside her, his manhood was cold as ice. She sat up with her hair disheveled and the bedclothes atangle. Her captain slept beside her, yet she was alone.

Daenerys, ADWD

Jon wondered where Ghost was now. Had he gone to Castle Black, or was he was running with some wolfpack in the woods? He had no sense of the direwolf, not even in his dreams. It made him feel as if part of himself had been cut off. Even with Ygritte sleeping beside him, he felt alone.

Jon, ASOS

their story is a never ending parallel.

Not to disrespect Ygritte, cause I think she was necessary to Jon’s growth. She was a great character and I do believe Jon loved her, at some point. But just like Daenerys, this love was not a choice, it was almost like a survival choice, they made the best out of a bad situation. 

He had to be with Ygritte, or Mance would have killed him, he would not believe Jon had really deserted the Night’s Watch. Ygritte wasn’t Jon’s act of rebellion, like I once read at a meta, no, she was, at first, his sacrifice/way to fill his mission. But somewhere along the way, he fell in love with her, she was strong, funny, and she awoke the sexuality in him. Again, he had to be with her, to prove himself, but it also wasn’t like he didn’t like it. 

Daenerys loved Khal Drogo? Yeah, but it was as forced as was Jon and Ygritte. One can say it was even worse for she did not go willing, she was pushed into it, sold like a slave, to get her brother an army (we do have to thank karma cause his army never came, boo-ya, sucker!). She was given to a stranger, a savage (comparing to her culture; it’s funny even to see the parallel here, both had to be with people that are considered savages, wildlings where they come from) in return of an army, and she made the best of her situation, she learnt his language, his manners, bore his child (even if the baby never came to live), she fell in love with him cause for the first time in a very long time (or forever?), she was treated with care and love (the way Drogo knew how to love) by the man in her life. 


A sweet reminder of how Daenerys thinks of her family and how she would have married Rhaegar’s son, had he lived. Rhaegar’s son, who’s Jon’s daddy again? 

Plus, we’ve seen on the show that Jon was named Aegon Targaryen too, we do not know if he will have the same name on the books but I honestly do not think they would change something so important. 

So, just another beautiful “easter egg” to ya:

Five Aegons had ruled the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. 

There would have been a sixth, but the Usurper’s dogs had murdered her brother’s son when he was still a babe at the breast. If he had lived, I might have married him. “

Daenerys, ADWD

Who says you still won’t, sweetie? Hold on, Melisandre will bring him back or he was warging Ghost, let’s just wait a bit longer, okay? 


Their journey is a never ending parallel, and their path is clearly to each other.

I don’t think the history is called ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’ without a cause, Jon may be blood of the dragon, but he’s also a Stark, and Daenerys is a Targaryen through and through…

*the lord of light aka george r.r. martin speaks through melisandre*

I’m back to reading the books and even if I’m still at AGOT, I just felt like making this, had a really bad day and making this made it a little better. 

What are your thoughts? <3 

Run To You Part Two

Originally posted by cxhragrove

Run To You Part One

Pairing: Billy x Reader

Word Count: 2,297

Warnings: Slight smut, mentions of abuse/violence. Possible spoilers for Season Two?

Authors Note: This continues straight from the first part. I am so incredibly overwhelmed by the response I have already received for this story!! I just wanted to write something to fuel by unhealthy obsession with Dacre Montgomery and you guys have made me feel so loved, so thank you! I will possibly write one final Part to this, let me know if you want it or just what you think! I am accepting requests for Stranger Things.

Tagged For: @fabulouskilljoyonpatrol -

Disclaimer: I do in no way condone Billy’s behaviour or views in the show, nor do I intend to romanticise racism and abuse.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Darkness washed over as the closet door was pushed shut and you shifted your weight uneasily on your feet.
Your eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the darkness but you would bet anything Billy would have that perfect, yet annoying smirk on his face.
“Mmm, you’ve finally got me alone, huh princess.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, Billy. You’re not my type.”
He leant in closer and you could feel the heat of his breath on your lips.
“Is that so?”
His words sent shivers down your spine and you gulped, desperately fighting the urge to kiss him.
You placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back lightly.
“What’s it gonna take to get you to go on a date with me, huh?”
You could faintly make out his features now and he saw you roll your eyes.
“Oh I dunno, maybe a complete personality change?”
He chuckled.
“At lest you’re attracted to me.”
“I didn’t say that.”
He leant forward again and this time you didn’t stop him.
“You’re not denying it.”
His tongue darted across his lips, leaving them glistening and he placed his hand on the wall behind your head.
You bit your lip, unable to find the energy or the courage to resist him.
He leant closer and dipped his head, his breath ghosting over your collar bone and trailing up your neck.
You closed your eyes, heat burning within you as the intoxicating scent of his cologne filled your lungs.
“I know you want me, princess.”
That was all it took, that stupid fucking  nickname that drove you wild. The final string holding back your urges snapped and you pushed him against the wall.
Your lips crashed against his with an urgent hunger and your hands pulled his head to yours.
He smiled into your kiss but met you with the same urgency and passion, his hands snaking around your waist and pulling your body against his.
In the dark you stumbled as he pushed you back against the wall and you whimpered as he pushed himself against you.
You ran your tongue across his bottom lip and bit it lightly, earning a low groan.
His hands roamed down your side and found their way you your ass and he pushed himself against you once more.
You came up for air and he kissed down your neck, sucking harshly at the soft skin and you were too wound up in the heat of it all to worry about the bruises he was leaving.
Your hands roamed down his chest and you grasped his shirt before lifting them back up and running them through his hair.
His head lifted and his lips crashed against yours in another hungry kiss.
He ground his hips against you while he squeezed your ass and you moaned against his lips.
“Billy.” You pushed him away gently.
You were both breathing heavily and the way he was looking at you lit something inside you that only he seemed to ignite.
When he came in for another kiss it took everything you had to turn your head and dodge his soft lips.
He smirked as he pulled away and he opened his mouth to say something when the door was ripped open.
The light from the room exposed you and Billy’s friends cheered.
Almost instantly he was back to his cocky self and he walked out of the closet with a coy grin on his face.
You took a deep breath and walked out of the closet.
Billy turned back to look at you and you met his eye for a fleeting moment before you left the room and fled to the haven of your own home.

You had been dreading going to school after the party but there had been no need to worry.
Billy hadn’t been there for two days and when he did finally show up he barely took any notice of you.
It was no surprise really.
Guys like Billy only wanted one thing, and you had been naive to think that whatever you thought was going on between you was in reality nothing more than a drunken kiss.
You rummaged through your bag, looking for your keys as you walked towards the car park.
Finally you pulled them out just before you reached your car and you looked up to see Billy leaning against the hood, a signature cigarette between his lips.
You took a deep breath and walked straight past him and unlocked the door.
“Ohh cmon, don’t be like that, princess.” He called.
You opened the door and tossed your bag onto the passenger seat.
Billy pushed off the hood and grabbed hold of the door and finally you looked at him.
He didn’t have his usual cocky aura about him today and when you looked at him you noticed the ghost of a bruise under his eye and his bottom lip was slightly swollen.
He sensed you looking at his healing wounds and he cleared his throat.
You blushed slightly.
“I’m.. are you okay?”
Billy frowned, taken aback by your concern. No one ever bothered asking if he was okay.
“I’m fine.”
The way he was avoiding your eyes insinuated that he was in fact not fine but you didn’t want to press him on it, at least not here.
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Got a hot date with my homework.” You joked.
Billy smirked and licked his lips.
“Come out with me.”
You looked into the abyss of his blue eyes and saw a spark of that fire you had seen at the party.
Just as you were about to answer Billy’s sister Max walked past, holding her head down sheepishly and gripping her skateboard.
Billy glanced at her and looked back at the kid she had been talking to and you saw his jaw clench.
“What did I tell you about hanging out with that kid, Max?” He snarled.
Max ran a hand through her long red hair.
“I wasn’t! I swear.”
She quickly got into the car, slamming the door shut and averting her gaze.
Billy closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, reining in his anger.
You glanced back at the kid she had allegedly been hanging out with and you saw how deflated he looked.
“You know I’ve seen that boy around. He’s a good kid.”
“She shouldn’t be hanging out with kids like that.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“What is that supposed to mean? Cause he’s black?”
Billy’s jaw clenched again and he took a long drag of his smoke.
“It means she should listen to me if she doesn’t want to get in trouble.”
You frowned, deciphering his words.
“In trouble? With who?” You glanced at his fading bruises and your voice softened. “Billy who did this to you?”
“It doesn’t matter. Do you wanna come out with me or not?”
“Billy I-“
“Forget it.” He turned on his heels and slid into his car before you could say another word.
He cranked the music up, drowning out your calls and tore out of the car park.



You yawned as you drove and turned the radio a little louder, hoping the music would help keep you awake.
The backroads of Hawkins were still unfamiliar and you drove slower than usual as you navigated around the bends and potholes.
You had spent the evening studying at the library. Your parents had gone away to visit your sick Aunt and you didn’t particularly like being home alone. So you’d stayed at the library til it closed before having dinner at the local diner.
It was a little past midnight when you turned the corner onto Maple Street and you pressed down on the accelerator.
“In the midnight hour!” You tapped your fingers against the steering wheel. “She cried more, more, more!”
You bobbed your head along to Billy Idols ‘Rebel Yell’ when suddenly you slammed on your brakes.
A figure had staggered out into the road and your car skidded out slightly before coming to a stop.
Fucking drunks.
You took a deep breath to calm your rapidly beating heart and released your grip on the steering wheel.
You looked at the drunk, swaying with every step they took before falling to their knees.
A cloud shifted in the night sky and the moonlight illuminated the mans hair.
Was that..?
You could recognise that hair anywhere so you turned off the ignition and got out of the car.
“Billy?”
He groaned in response as he tried to stand and failed.
He knelt on the road and you walked briskly over to him.
“Billy?” You called again.
He looked up at you and your breath caught in your throat.
His lip was split and swollen and he had blood on his nose. The left side of his face was red, matching his slightly torn and half unbuttoned shirt.
“What happened?” You asked as you knelt before him.
His head swung forward, too heavy for him to hold up himself.
He didn’t seem drunk and you couldn’t smell any alcohol at all but he was definitely in some sort of state.
You bit your lip and gently cupped his face and lifted his head.
His eyelids were heavy and he struggled to focus on you but after a few blinks he registered.
“(Y/N)?”
“What happened? Are you okay?”
His head bobbed forward again and you shifted to his side.
You lifted his arm over your shoulder and wrapped your arm around his side.
He shivered against you and you realised how cold he must be, out here for god knows how long in just his jeans and ripped shirt.
“Cmon, lets get you up.”
You managed to get him standing and together you staggered to your car where you helped him into the passenger seat.
Once he was in you leant across him to clip in the seatbelt.
You hadn’t been this close to him since the incident in the closet and you couldn’t help but breath in the intoxicating mix of his cologne and natural scent.
His head leant against you as you fumbled with the seatbelt and he let out a low groan.
There was a sense of vulnerability to him now.
It wasn’t just because of his semi conscious state, or because it was just you and him.
But the blood from his nose and the bruises forming on his cheek indicated that something had gone down tonight  and you suddenly felt very protective of him.
Once his seatbelt was secure you ran around the car and hopped in.
“Billy, where do you live?” You asked as you started the engine.
“Can’t.”
“Can you tell me where you live?” You repeated.
“Can’t go home.”  He mumbled.
You bit your lip and pondered your options. Your parents were out of town and as long as he was gone by tomorrow night they’d never find out.
Simple.
You’d take him home, clean him up, let him sleep off whatever this was and drop him home in the morning.
Simple.



The drive back to your house was uneventful. You kept up conversation, trying to keep him engaged although he just mumbled incoherently.
Every now and then you would hear him say ‘Max’ or your name or ‘Harrington’ but you figured it was just random mumbling of his confused mind.
You managed to get him inside easy enough and you helped him to your bedroom. He seemed to being coming to, slowly, and you tok that as a good sign.
He laid against your pillows on the bed and you pulled off his boots and placed them on the ground.
Once you had covered him with a blanket you went to get the essentials.
You returned with a damp washcloth, a first aid kit, a bag of frozen peas, a clean towel, a bottle of water and some paracetamol.
“I’m gonna wash your face, okay?”
He nodded and you perched beside him on the edge of the bed.
Carefully you wiped the dried blood from his face with the wash cloth. Next, you dabbed some alcohol onto a cotton ball and held it up.
“This might sting.”
He closed his eyes and you gently ran the cotton over his cuts.
He winced as you wiped his lip and you couldn’t help but feel a pang in your chest.
You didn’t like seeing anyone in pain, and for some reason you felt sick at the thought of anyone hurting Billy.
“You gonna tell me what happened?”
You asked quietly as you applied some cream to the bruises forming across his cheekbone and jaw.
He gazed at you with hooded eyes.
“Max.. She..”
You frowned. “Is she okay?”
He nodded slowly and you wrapped a towel around the frozen peas before offering them to Billy.
He closed his eyes and when he opened them you noticed the way they were glistening with unshed tears.
“Oh, Billy.” You whispered.
He lifted his hand as if he was embarrassed and wiped at his eyes and you noticed blood on his knuckles.
Gently you pulled his hands towards you and you said nothing more as you cleaned the blood and cuts on his hands.
“I’ll let you get some rest. I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.” You stood and started gathering the supplies.
“(Y/N)?”
You met his eye and he reached out for you.
“Can you stay?”
You hesitated for only a moment before nodding and tiptoeing around the bed.
You slid in next to him, the both of you still fully clothed and he raised his arm before pulling you into his side.
You curled up against him and buried your head in his chest.
Neither of you spoke, there was no need.
You traced your fingers over his chest and somewhere between the sound of his heartbeat and his fingers running over your shoulder you both fell into slumber, wrapped in each other’s arms.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Part Three

PULP FICTION 📖 [ACT 1]

PAIRING: steve harrington x reader, billy hargrove x reader

summary: nancy breaks up with steve and he is a bit of a mess when you find him. being the new girl in hawkins you try to befriend and keep nancy off his mind. it backfires and now you have him falling in love with you, as you fight off the urge to fall in love with him, too. [THIS IS AN AU!]

warnings: swearing, sexual situations, violence

a/n: quentin tarantino is my favorite director and i really love old movies. so here’s this. lot’s of music in here. also, nothing too major happens now. just two characters meet. this is possibly the maybe first time i have such an independant/strong reader

if you like my stuff and want to support me, don’t forget to treat me to a KO-FI!

MASTERLIST.

[ACT 2.]

music.

“Hey, sorry to bother you. I wouldn’t be if… if you didn’t look like you could use some company.”

Your statement is met with silence as the unfamiliar guy in front of you lifts his eyes up to stare at you in bewilderment. Late autumn wind blows past and ruins your neat hairdo. Your hand grips the strap of your purse; you note tears glisten in his deep brown eyes and decide to look away so he’d have enough time to collect himself. The guy sniffles, rubs his eyes before giving you a tight smile; He opens his mouth to possibly dismiss you, but you beat him to it, “There’s no shame in crying. If you’re sad, you’re sad, right? Nothing you can do about it.” He sighs, “May I sit?” You inquire. After a moment of consideration, he gives a curt nod. And so you do.

Keep reading

13.05 “Advanced Thanatology” Coda.

“I just need a win,” Dean says to Sam, and he can’t bring himself to look his brother in the eye and see the concern, the sympathy. Dean can count on one hand the number of times he’s admitted to Sam that he isn’t okay, and with all that’s happened he’s feeling so raw and- “I just need a damn win.”

He doesn’t believe it’ll happen.

Sam conks out somewhere along the road and Dean turns off the radio to let him sleep. That crick in his neck is gonna be a bitch, but the hunt really drained them and Dean could use the quiet. It’s just the hum of Baby’s engine and the long stretch of pavement, and that nagging, hollow feeling in his chest subsides a little when he can focus on driving. He still sees blue and a soft, soft smile like horrible replays ingrained in his mind, although he figures they’ve been fixtures there for a while. He doesn’t expect them to ever go away.

The ring of his cell phone surprises them both. He’s not waiting on a call and it’s an unknown number, though that isn’t uncommon given what they do. “Yeah,” Dean answers gruffly, the selfish part of him hoping it’s not another hunt.

There’s no reply for the first few seconds, and Dean’s about to gripe at whoever’s on the line when a voice comes through and he’s stunned into silence. “Hello, Dean,” comes two, simple words, and suddenly, Dean can’t breathe. It’s Cas, unmistakably Cas, and god, Dean aches for him.

Cas looks just as shocked to see them, lit only by the light from the dingy pay phone and turning around at Baby’s doors closing shut. Instinctively, Dean scans him for signs he might be hurt but doesn’t find any, and sees instead that his eyes are wet, all wide and gorgeous and fuck. Fuck.

They stare at each other like they’re both unsure of what to say and how to say it, but in the end it’s Cas calling “Dean” and Dean just crumpling, going to him.

“How-” Dean starts to ask until he decides it doesn’t matter right now. “Cas, you son of a bitch. Do you even know-” His vision blurs.

Cas moves first, a step into his space, slowly reaching up to thumb at Dean’s tears. “I know,” he murmurs gently and Dean can only swear and pull him close.

The lapels of the coat are starched and new, hardly wrinkling when Dean grips them tight and lets their lips touch like ocean and sky. It’s painfully familiar and he can only think home yet, at the same time, it’s a feverish rush. He died today and came back to life, but only now does his heart start beating.

“Never do that again,” he grits between kisses, goddamn furious and deliriously happy as if he hadn’t been void of emotions since he lost Cas. It’s like his world is in color again, and when Cas says “Alright,” he- Dean believes him.

He flushes and coughs when they pull apart and Sam is fighting a smile with eyes just as wet. “We were due for a win,” is all he says, and Dean reaches for Cas’ hand.

Good things do happen.

your love could start a war

billy hargrove x reader

words: 1303 (this one got long idk i love dacre’s face)

warnings: language, fighting

request:  Could you do an Imagine where Billy flirts with the reader and he’s like a dick to everyone else but her and he even kicks someone’s ass because the person tried to flirt with the reader. Like not as aggressively as his fight with Steve at the end. Thanks if you do it :)

Billy Hargrove had a reputation. It wasn’t a good one, as most saw him as kind of a dick. His ‘fuck you’ attitude and disregard for what people thought of him, most of Hawkins wasn’t quite sure how to feel about him. Most were intimidated, trying to fly under his radar. But you never really understood why.

You’d only ever seen him as caring and kind since the first day you met him. He was always more concerned of you than himself. He gave you a sea of compliments, no matter how many times you told him to stop, and was the first person you called when you just needed something. From the first day you met him, he was nothing but the most amazing guy in the world, it was hard to think of him as otherwise. He always sat with you at lunch on the same bench every day, even though it wasn’t his lunch period. You sat on the bench now, basking in the sunlight and waiting for him.

“How’s my favorite girl?”

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