#but i never heard about it except like once to clue me in that they Did think so

[lokh]

i just had a dream where i was assigned d*ke???????????

[webslingingslasher]

Crush

Genre: fluff

Word count: 6k

Summary: you like peter, he doesn't get it. until you confide in spider-man

i hope you guys like this, i've been really really busy at work but i'm working on my other fic i promise.

You didn’t know Peter Parker was Spider-Man. 

To be fair, no one really knew. Tony Stark knew because he knows everything, May knows because she walked in on him in the suit, so did Ned, and MJ found out on her own, because, well, she knows everything. So enter in you, a girl who moved into the city and got into a smart kid school. Almost immediately you befriended MJ, you sat next to her in English and noticed her head stuck in a book. You leaned over into her space, you saw her tense up and smiled at her eyes peeking at you through the corners.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m new here and I want to die in a falling elevator, what about you?” 

MJ peered at you and smirked, she stuck out a hand to shake yours.

“Hi, I’m MJ. I’m old here and I’m still trying to decide.” 

You two have been friends since. 

“No, you’re not getting it Ned! I dare you to ask Betty, that is if she’ll still talk to you.” Peter grinned at his friend and laughed when Ned threw a spork at him. Ned and Betty were in their usual weekly dispute, usually something dumb but slightly significant. 

“Are you just mad I have a girlfriend that gets mad at me?” Ned teased back. He did feel like he had the upper hand, being honest he always thought Peter would have all his firsts, well, first. But Ned was collecting the firsts while Peter kept to himself. 

Peter scoffed at the assumption, “No way man, If I was a boyfriend I would never pick a fight. I’d be a good boy and listen.” He hummed and shot his eyes to yours, you were already looking at him. 

“Right, Y/N?” He shot a wink at you and you froze, was that real? Was he actually talking to you? 

Peter Parker is beautiful. You’re not sure when you liked him, actually you think you always have. The second you met him you felt pulled to him, you couldn’t stay away from him. Subconsciously you walked the longer loop around the school to peek at him at his locker, and you always laughed at his jokes, and you made constant eye contact when you weren’t staring at his mouth. 

His brown curls laid over his forehead, you remember last week he was talking about getting it cut, and you frowned at him and said ‘absolutely not, if anything you should grow it longer’, you can’t help but notice it hasn’t been cut yet, and he is looking more tempting by the day. Maybe two more weeks and you could have an excuse to run your hand through it, tell him you noticed it was in his eyes and you were just helping. 

Even MJ knew, you think Ned and Betty have an inkling. When the four of you were together they loved to talk about Peter, except they would only praise him. He has the ultimate wingmen even if he didn’t know it. And speaking of not knowing, he had no clue you were into him. It’s not like you’ve been straightforward but you also didn’t hide it. You always made flirty comments towards him, and he would usually smile shyly and brush it off. 

“How did you think you did on Mr. Tusks test? I think I did fine.” He once asked during a passing period, you made a show of looking him up and down, “Oh trust me, you’re fine.” Peter rolled his eyes and then asked if you had heard about Kayte and Brendon. 

“Can you do me a favor?” Peter asked while you and the rest of the group met at his house for a study session before PSATS, looking over at you from his shoulder at the kitchen table. You stepped closer and grabbed his bicep, “Trust me, I’d do anything for you, Peter.” MJ let out a quiet ‘oooh’ and Peter flushed, he cleared his throat and held up some crumpled paper. “Can you throw these away for me, please?” 

You wrapped your hand around the paper in his and let your fingers rest against his palm for a moment, you looked in his eyes and pouted. “Aw, that’s all?” He looked at MJ for help, she instead looked at you and smirked with a slight nod to her head. You met her with a similar smirk and walked away to the trash can. 

Then that time at the movies you hopped around Ned to steal the spot next to Peter, “Dibs! If anyone is gonna get cuddly with Peter it’s gonna be me.” You pushed Ned’s shoulder to prove your seriousness when his jaw dropped open, he sputtered but then slunk to the seat next to you. Peter joked to ease the tension, “There’s enough of me to go around,” you looked at him and smiled, “but most of you is mine, right?” Peter went to respond but the lights dropped and the trailers started. 

You almost thought he made a move, almost. 

During the movie he lent into your ear, his warm breath sent goosebumps down your spine. “Hey.” You turned your head and almost stopped breathing, his face was right against yours, if he lent up half an inch your lips would meet. You wondered if this was the moment, all the flirting was for something. “Yeah?” You whispered back, you looked between his eyes and mouth, he caught you looking at his lips and watched you lean in a tad closer. “Can I get a sip of your slushie?” 

His grin was highlighted in the blue light of the theater screen. You grumbled and thrust the plastic cup at his chest, “Not how I imagined swapping spit with you in a movie theater, but I guess it will do.” Peter nodded absentmindedly while his attention was on the screen, and you might have maybe, just for a second, thought about punching him in the ribs. 

And right now he was asking you if he would be a good boyfriend. 

“Are you kidding me Parker? You’re the definition of boyfriend material.” You matched the grin he gave you and he shot a HA! At Ned. 

“Told you! And when I finally find a girlfriend I’m gonna be the best boyfriend.” He made a cocky grin at Ned that let him know he won the fight. Your ears were ringing, did he just say? He couldn't have. No way he’s that dumb. 

You slap your palms on the table and narrow your eyes at him, “What do you mean find a girlfriend?” 

“Oh! You know, when I finally have a chick that’s into me.” He shrugged, so casual. Did he think you were just playing around? 

“When you have a chick, into you.” You repeated the words slower and watched him nod his head and take a sip of chocolate milk. 

MJ hid her snort under a cough, you turned to look at her, silently saying ‘is he for real right now?’ and MJ gave a look back that said ‘oh i think he is.’ 

You kissed your teeth, “and tell me Peter, how the fuck would you know when a girl is into you?” 

His eyes widened for a second, “Uh, I dunno. I think if she likes me she’ll make it known.” 

You laughed dryly, “Or she can make it known and you’re just totally oblivious.” 

Peter thought for a moment and hummed, “No, I think I’d know.” 

You looked at MJ with a wide mouth.

“Okay. Fuck this, I’m out.” You grabbed your backpack off the table and stomped out the cafetera doors. 

“Did I say something to make her mad?” Peter missed the look MJ and Ned shared. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter couldn’t help but feel guilty, he didn’t know what he did but he’s almost sure he made you upset. And he would normally never interfere with Spider-Man but he’s the one that saw you tossing pebbles and crushed cans at a brick wall down an alleyway. So he had to make sure you were okay, just doing his civilian duties. 

“Fucking stupid, oblivious, what does he want me to do? Fucking show up at his house naked?” You mumbled to yourself and kicked a cardboard box, sending it into the side of a dumpster. 

You heard something drop behind you, spinning to the sound you were met with the masked vigilante seen across the city. You had never seen him in person, not even a glimpse when you were walking around. You were starting to believe he was a figment of people's imagination.   

You narrowed your eyes, you didn’t know or care why he was there. 

“Fuck off, Spider-Man.” You turned to throw another rock at the wall and watch it bounce off, just like all your attempts with Peter. That frustrating prick. 

“Bad day?” 

He didn’t leave and he just brought a shit storm apun himself. 

You spun to face him again, “You have no idea.” 

“Tell me about it.” Maybe you would slip why you were pissed at lunch. 

You looked him up and down and tapped a finger on your chin, “Do you take hits?” 

“Like punches? I mean I try-” 

You cut him off, “No. I mean if I tell you to beat someone up would you do it?” 

Peter’s eyes widened in the mask, but then collected himself. 

“Maybe, it depends why you want them beaten up.” 

“Because he deserves pain.” You threw another rock. 

“Who’s he?” Peter had a feeling it was himself. 

You groaned and rubbed at your eyes, you paused to think of the story and decided to tell the whole thing to make sense. 

“Are you like a therapist or something?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Like patient doctor confidentiality. I can tell you anything and no one knows?”

Peter thought to himself, he had never viewed himself that way but he sees how some may think of him like that. Just a random guy to dump their shit unto. 

“Sure, yeah. I won’t go screaming from the rooftops about your bad day with ‘he’.” He used air quotes around the ‘he’ and smiled when he made you laugh. 

“Alright, cool.” You nodded and paused after rubbing the bridge of your nose, then finally looking into the white masked eyes of Spider-Man.

“You brought this on yourself. Okay look, I’m new here right? Moved here from Manhattan, and got into this, like, super smart kid school.” You watched the masked face nod. 

“And I met this girl on my first day and she’s super cool and she tells me she’s gonna introduce me to her friends, and I was super excited to make friends, right?” You watched him to make sure he was listening, “And sorry for the next part, if you’re like a thirty year old guy just understand I am a horny teenager and you were once me, okay? Okay.” 

“So I met her friends, Ned and Peter. And let me tell you, Peter? Wow! Look, I’ll level with you. I’ve liked dudes before, maybe even kissed a few, who’s to know?” Peter froze for a moment, did you just hint at what he thinks? 

“But, Peter? I have literally never wanted to hump someone's face until I saw him.” 

Peter coughed then cleared his throat, his cheeks felt on fire. 

He knows you’ve always said things to him, he knows it was flirty but he didn’t realize you were being serious, cause he was him, and you were you. Peter never had that aha moment where he realized you were in fact flirting and did like him like that. He now wants to curl in shame because of the way he’s blown you off for so long, he doesn’t know why he thought you were always playing around with him, especially now. Because you only ever told Peter, you wanted Peter. 

Peter feels really dumb right now watching a girl he never thought he could pull, in distress because he is in fact, not pulling her. 

“I don’t know how to explain it but I felt so pulled to him, I hadn’t known him for twelve seconds and I wanted to know everything about him, you know? And I’ve tried everything, man. I don’t know how much more clear I can get, I mean I flirt with him all the time. Like, all the time. I literally told him I wanted to make out with him at the movies and he was just like… But can I get some of that slushie? I wanted to kill him and then myself.” 

You noticed the wide eyes on the mask but held up a hand to continue. 

“And today! My god I really thought he got it, get this, the fucker,” You exclaimed the fucker. “This fucker looks at me, dead in the eye and says ‘I’d be a good boyfriend right?’ and I was like ‘Oh my god, yes. You are literally perfection, look at you. So handsome, such baby, I will die if I don’t kiss you.’ And he goes, and I cannot make this shit up, ‘when I finally find a girlfriend I’ll be the best boyfriend.’” You mocked his voice, well not Peter’s, but a general man's voice. 

“Oh.” The first response you’ve heard from him yet. 

You laughed bitterly. “Oh, I’m not even at the part that made me fly off the wall.” 

Peter knows what you’re talking about. 

“At this point I just thought he was his normal little dumb self but when he said that? Game over. So I said, ‘how the fuck would you know when a girl is into you?’ just like that too, and he goes,” You paused to laugh again and shake your head, “‘I think if she likes me she’ll make it known.’ How fucking disconnected is he from reality? I wonder what it would be like to be in his head, really. Just a fuckton of open space huh? Anyways, I just told him that maybe she is making it known and he’s just not paying attention and he goes, ‘hmm, nope. I’d think I know.’ I couldn’t take it and just walked out.” 

You finished up your rant, “So, in conclusion. Fuck Peter Parker, but also, I want to fuck Peter Parker. It’s hard being 17.” 

For the first time Spider-Man was speechless. He didn’t know how to navigate this because he wanted to take your side but also didn’t want to throw Peter under the bus. When he noticed you were waiting for a response he let out a ‘Wow.’ 

“Well, wow.” He was still trying to find words. 

“I know right? I told you, you brought this on yourself.” You sat against the brick wall and pulled a quarter from your pocket running it across your knuckles. Spider-Man moved to sit next to you. 

“I know you say you’ve been forward but maybe he thinks you’re joking, or maybe he didn’t see it like that because he thought you wouldn’t like him like that.” 

“Babes, you have no idea how much I like him like that.” 

“Right. I mean, maybe give it another shot, you never know.” He shrugged his shoulders, who knows? Peter may even ask for a date next time you talk. 

“Oh, you think I’m giving up?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “No way, if anything this makes him even more attractive. Who doesn’t like a good chase? I will tell you my next method was just popping up at his place like, you, me, lets fuck, right here, right now.” 

“Chasing is only fun if you catch them in the end. And I doubt this Peter kid would ever give into that method, you’d scare the shit out of him.” You sighed and thought about it. “You’re right, he would respect me too much. It’s gross how much I love that.” You watched the quarter roll across your middle knuckle and held it tightly. 

You leaned a cheek against the hero’s shoulder. 

“Don’t beat up Peter Parker. He’s a sweet boy, just a little unaware.” 

“Although, if he doesn’t wake up to smell the bacon next time we talk I’m sending you a smoke signal and his address and I won’t let you leave until I see blood.” 

Peter let out a big laugh, “Deal.” 

You stood up and brushed off your butt then reached a hand out to help Spider-Man up. 

“Thanks for talking me off the ledge. Here’s a tip.” You tossed the quarter in your hand towards the red glove. 

Peter nodded and gave a two finger salute, “Just doing my job ma'am, I am the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man after all. I’ll look around for you, I hope I get a Peter update soon.” 

You smiled at the hero once more. 

“Me too.”

You watched as he took off and started to walk home, not even twenty minutes later a text came through. 

hey, sorry if i made you upset at lunch today. 

It's fine, I'm sure you’ll make it up to me. 

yeah, i’ll show you how sorry i can be.

And hell if your breath didn’t hitch. Did he just flirt with you? There is no way in God’s green earth did he just send a text like that not knowing how you’d take it. Did he finally wake up and smell the roses? Did the behavior at lunch kick in a thinking cell? 

Either way, you couldn’t wait for school tomorrow.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking in the doors you rubbed the palm of your hand over your cold nose, the temperature was slowly reminding you summer was over and the nips of frost and changing leaf colors proved it. You were excited for fall and winter, you would have friends to go to a halloween party with, maybe even get to wear a couples costume with Peter if it worked out for you. You would trickle into thanksgiving and then have a whole season for cookies, movies and snow fights. A part of you couldn’t help but think about Peter's eyes sparkling in the christmas lights. 

Peter’s head darted up at you the second you walked through the door, his teeth nibbling his bottom lip. He wasn’t sure what to say, or if he should say anything. Does he wait for you to say something? Does he walk up and ask you on a date?

Either way you were about to walk past him, you looked preoccupied, in your own world. You were nibbling on your thumb nail, lost in your thoughts about Peter, and the weather, and Peter, and snow, and carving pumpkins with Peter, and the way leaves would crunch under your feet, and then floated to central park and walking hand in hand with Peter, and kissing Peter under a tree, or maybe he’d take you to rockefeller plaza and ask you to be his girlfriend there, and you just know in your heart Peter would always give you extra whipped cream on your hot chocolate. 

You were so lost in thinking about Peter you didn’t see Peter. 

Not until he jumped in front of you. 

“Hey!” He smiled and it made your eyes go hazy. 

“Peter.” You let out dreamily, still stuck in daydreams where he was yours.

“Whatcha thinking about?” His grin gave away he knew, but you know he didn’t.

“Would you give me extra whipped cream on hot chocolate?” 

“Oh yeah. I’d even throw in some mini marshmallows and a cinnamon stick. Or do you like peppermint more?” 

You fawned at his response, he was so gentle it warmed you. 

“Would you carve pumpkins with me?” You looked at his locker. 

“Why not? Seems fun.” He tapped his fist against your shoulder.

“I would need your help, cause I’m good at getting the guts out but the actual carving part hurts my hand because I have to use so much force. So I could draw a design and you could cut it for me, cause you're way stronger than me.” 

“Why are you good at getting the guts out?” He poked a finger at your elbow to get your attention back on his face. 

You bit your bottom lip and changed topics. 

“Have you ever walked through central park?” 

I mean, if Peter thinks about it he’s spent a fair amount of time there, but he’s not roaming around. He’s swinging around or stopping crime or running after someone, so he guesses not. He’s never walked through the park and enjoyed it, he thinks he did it a few times as a kid but he can’t remember the last time he went. 

“As a kid, I haven’t been in a while.” 

“I think it would be really pretty to walk through it when the leaves all change.” 

“I love the feeling of the leaves crunching under my feet.” 

“Me too! As a kid I used to build leaf forts and just roll around for hours.” You smiled brightly at the shared feeling. 

“We could go sometime, just say when. We could even get the group together.” He winked playfully but dropped the grin when he saw the disappointment flash in your eyes when he added the friends part. You didn’t want a group trip, you wanted a Peter trip. 

“Or it could be just a you and me thing, I think I could use some one on one time with you.” Peter retracted his earlier statement. Your eyes lit up at his suggestion, “really? You do?” 

“Yeah, of course. I love talking to you.” He smiled and watched you bite your bottom lip as you stared at his. 

“Anything fun happen yesterday? I didn’t see you after lunch.” Was he possibly hinting at you talking about him to him? Yes. 

“Uh,” You trailed and thought about telling him, scared if you said too much he’d ask details. 

“You know, I started to believe Spider-Man was a mass hallucination, turns out he’s a real guy. Kinda cool.” 

Peter raised his eyebrows, “You suddenly came to that belief yesterday?” 

“Well I mean, you know. He was like, there. And was like, hey.” You gave a general response and shrugged your shoulders. 

“He was just there and said hey?” He slowly repeated the words back. 

“Hey! He promised he wouldn’t talk about what we discussed and I will promise the same. We had a nice conversation about someone close to me and he gave me a little pep talk.” You defended your stance. 

“Like patient doctor confidentiality?” He was having a little fun here. 

“Exactly! It was true alleyway therapy. I even gave him a quarter for his troubles.” You crossed your arms and grinned, it was funny how good you felt after talking to him yesterday. Maybe exploding emotions on a third party stranger was good. 

“Sounds like you have a crush on Spidey.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, “If he was here right now, and heard that coming from your mouth? He would have a fucking field day, I promise you that.” 

Peter raised his eyebrows in coyness. 

“From me? Sounds like he knows something, was I maybe the close person you had a conversation about?” 

Your cheeks felt warm, you were on the spot. You always hinted at your crush on Peter but you were kind of pussy to outright say it so you hoped he would catch on and ask you out. But now you didn’t know how to react, you had said too much and backed yourself into a corner. 

You opened your mouth to play off a response when the bell for first period rang out, you let out a breath of relief and smiled at Peter. 

“Saved by the bell.” 

--------------------------------------------------------------------

You were begging Spider-Man was out, looking around where he had dropped down yesterday. 

Things have progressed with Peter and you promised him an update, it was just about keeping him in the loop. It had nothing to do with getting to fantasize and romanticize you and Peter’s interactions. 

Jumping in excitement you saw him standing on the corner of the same building you were hiding behind yesterday, hands on his hips with his head turned the opposite way. 

“Spider-Man!” You whisper shouted. 

“Hey! Spidey!” You raised your tone some. 

“Yo! Spider-boy!” You picked up a pebble and threw it up the building. 

Getting his attention the hero looked behind him then pointed at himself with a thumb, “me?” You rolled your eyes, “yes, you. C’mere.” Watching him jump down and land in a squatted pose you couldn’t help but think about how fucked up your ankles would’ve been if you tried it. 

“Peter update, bitch. I don’t have another quarter on me, so this will have to be on the house.” 

“I kept it.” He handed it back to you and you thought about how if Peter did that you would be putty in your shoes. 

“I think he was flirting with me. I think. I don’t know, he’s so coy. I love him.” You sighed and held a hand to your heart. 

“And I am so sadistic, I’m using him as a pawn in my sick games. I’m asking him questions that I’ve already answered in my head about him and when he gives me a response it’s better than I imagined.” 

“Maybe he was flirting, or trying. Something tells me you make him nervous.” 

“Am I intimidating? I don’t want him scared of me, I want to mash my parts with his.” You pouted and thought if you were making him uncomfortable. 

“First, gross.” (Not really, he also wants to mash parts.) 

“Second, I don’t think you’re intimidating. I just think you are much more forward than him.” 

“Oh no. Is that a problem? Do I keep doing what I am, or should I let him do this? Am I over stepping? I’ve never had a boyfriend, is he supposed to pursue me? Have I done everything backwards? Oh god.” You covered your face with your hands and missed Peter's eyes growing wide and his panicked arm movements. 

“No, no, no, no. You’re fine, you’re good. It’s good. You can make the first move, totally okay. I just meant you’re expecting him to ask you out any second and I think you need to make it more noticeable rather than joking.” 

“Ew! Gross! I will not walk up to that man and tell him I wanna smooch.” 

“Oh, C’mon! You basically already have!” 

“Nope. Not happening. You’ve helped me make up my mind, I will wait for Peter Parker to make the next move.” You tossed the quarter back to him, “Don’t worry. You’ll see me again.” 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Woah, wait.” MJ stopped in her tracks and spoke her next words carefully. 

“You told Spider-Man about your crush on Peter?” Her voice was smooth and quick, MJ almost felt panicked for you, because you didn’t know what you just did. 

“Yeah?” You didn’t get the big deal, not like Spider-Man knew who Peter was anyways. 

“What did he say?” MJ was pulling at the thread.

“That I should be more clear, or less intimidating, or something.” 

“He said you were intimidating?” MJ narrowed her eyes. 

“Well kind of, when I said that he kind of back tracked but-” 

MJ cut you off when he locked eyes with Peter coming down the hall towards you, he tilted his head in question, he knew that look and he wasn’t sure why he deserved it. She grabbed Peter’s forearm and tugged him next to her, your eyes went wide. You didn’t need to understand why MJ decided to bring Peter into this conversation, you just needed to end it. 

“Peter, do you think Y/N is intimidating?”  

His eyes saw your subtle head shake at her, an unvocal way of telling her to shut the fuck up. 

“Uh, no. Not at all. Why?” 

MJ waited for you to talk but you stayed silent, you would definitely spill if you tried to navigate the conversation. 

“Because, the Queens nightly hero thinks she is.” Her tone was bitter, who knew MJ was this defensive over you. 

“He said I was too forward, MJ. Drop it.” You pleaded to get out of this alive. 

“Too forward, imagine that, Peter. Imagine confiding in someone about a crush and they say you’re too forward.” 

You felt your knees hit your ankles, Peter would connect the dots. You told him you had a conversation and MJ just admitted it was about a crush. 

You started to dryly laugh, not allowing Peter a chance to answer that. 

“Not a crush! Nope! Don’t know where you got that theory.” You darted your eyes around looking for an escape. 

“No?” Peter questioned you. 

“You know MJ, she lives in her own world. Never said anything about having a crush on someone, definitely not you.” 

Peter had to play into this, your turn to squirm. 

“Who said I thought you had a crush on me?” 

Your heart couldn’t beat any louder than it was at the moment. 

“No one did.” You flashed a nervous smile. 

“No, I think you just did.” 

You breathed heavily out your nose and looked harshly at MJ like ‘wtf? Why did you do this?’ 

“I just didn’t want you to think I have a crush on you.” 

Peter pouted, “Why not? I think it would be cute.” 

It was your turn to sputter. 

“Cute? It would be cute? Cute how? Cute, that's adorable or cute, let's date?” 

You didn’t miss MJ’s look of ‘wow. Subtle much?’ 

“Depends. Do you have a crush on me?” 

“Do you think I have a crush on you?” 

Peter hummed and pretended to think. 

“Sometimes.” He shrugged his shoulders. 

“Only sometimes?” 

“I’m confused. Do you want me to think you have a crush on me or not?” 

MJ raised her hands and slowly started to back away. 

“Depends. How would you react?” You cautioned. 

“Probably how you want me to react.” 

“And how do I want you to react?” 

Peter smiled and leaned in close, you held your breath for a moment. Was he about to kiss you? Is that how you want him to react? Yes. 

“You tell me.” 

Then he straightened himself and winked as he walked away. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter just had to wait for an opening, not that you would take long to give him one. You couldn’t keep it in, it was second nature at this point.

If there was any way he could ask you out casually then you needed to make it a bit clear, as much as you said you wanted it he couldn’t imagine the flip of “he doesn’t notice anything” to “hey, wanna go out?” 

 Peter was trying to set himself up for one of your comments and you tried your best to keep a poker face but when he said that? Game over. 

“I think I have a shot, she totally likes me.” 

Was he talking about you? He better be, because if you were walking into his house for the regular Friday movie night and he was talking about another girl you would actually lose it. You had just got there, still waiting for MJ and Ned to show up when he greeted you with his words. 

“Who likes you?” 

“Kendra! During math she was holding up her highlighters trying to match one to my shirt. It’s pretty obvious right?” 

“No.” 

“No?” 

“No. You can’t be serious.” 

“I am! I told you if someone liked me they would make it obvious, and I’m pretty sure she did.” 

“Oh fuck you Peter! You’re the actual worst, I sit here all fucking day saying things to you, about literally wanting to be all over you and a girl with a fucking highlighter collection is booted to top of the list?” 

“I mean, what am I? Chopped liver? I have been pining after you for months, and all it took was a highlighter? Do you know I wear that green sweater all the time because you said you liked it once, or that I follow you around like a puppy? How about when I flirt with you, or do you even know I’m flirting with you?” 

Peter had a shit eating grin that made you even more upset. 

“Why are you so happy right now, you’re really pissing me off.” 

Peter stalked towards you until you were backed up into the wall, with nowhere to go you felt his chest brush yours, his arms caging you against the wall, your head between both of his hands. 

Save for the position, you were excited. This was going to be a new daydream scenario, he had you pinned to the wall. The only way out was through him. 

He leant in close, if you just pushed yourself up you could have his lips on yours. 

“Because, you finally admitted it.” 

You narrowed your gaze at him. 

“What is that supp-” 

He cut you off. 

With his mouth. 

On yours. 

No matter how many times you dreamed about this exact moment nothing could match the real thing. His lips were soft, his hand cupped your jaw to bring you closer to him. His body leaned in so he was flush against yours, you felt every curve and divot of him blend into yours. You grabbed at the waist of his shirt, begging for him not to leave his position of being on your mouth. 

Instead he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, the feather touch of his tongue on your lower lip sent your head into a spiral, the boy you had been obsessing and pining over the past few months was moving with your movements, you gasped into his mouth and he squeezed a hip with his hand and you in turn pressed your hips into his. 

He pulled away and placed a kiss to your jaw, then neck. 

“Was that the reaction you wanted?” 

Your eyes stayed closed but you nodded, scared if you opened them the illusion would disappear. 

“I kissed you with my heart and soul baby girl, can’t a guy get a response?” 

You whimpered at the pet name. 

Then a knock at the door, the curtain dropped. The other friends were here and it would go back to pretend this didn’t happen for a few hours. The front door was being opened from the outside, you had your head turned to the right to watch it open. Peter still had you pressed into the wall, he placed an arm out to hold the door shut. 

“I’m not done yet.” 

He leant in for another one, and another. 

And another. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I was beginning to think you forgot about me.” 

You did promise Spider-Man an update, but it’s been a busy few months. Christmas was just around the corner and Peter and you have been busy. Between dates and seasonal activities you haven’t had a moment to track down the hero and catch him up to date. 

First it was Halloween and you did get your couples costume. (and he helped you carve your pumpkin.)

 Then it was Thanksgiving. (and he walked through central park with you.)

And recently you’ve both been busy with present shopping and baking. (and he gives you hot chocolate with extra, extra whipped cream.)

 “I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been too busy being a girlfriend.” 

“Girlfriend?” 

You squealed. “Yes! He totally set me up and I was all like, ‘How do you not know I like you?’ and BAM! He just started kissing me, I was seeing fucking stars.” 

“Peter Parker finally smelled the bacon, huh?” 

“Yeah. He’s really awesome. I know we were friends before but it’s gotten so much better now he’s my boyfriend, I don’t even know how to describe it. I think it’s because everything I feel for him is reciprocated times ten by him.” 

“I think it’s because you love him.” 

“Or because we’re mashing parts.” 

You laughed at his reaction. 

“Gross.” (Not gross. He fucking loves mashing parts.)

“But yeah, I think it’s mostly because we love each other.” 

“I’m happy for you, I’m glad I can stop looking for smoke signals now.” 

You grinned at the hero and had to fight back the urge for a hug. 

“Thanks, if it makes you feel better if I knew who you were under the mask I’d buy you dinner.” 

Sirens blaring broke the reunion. 

“It’s alright. I have a feeling you’ll know soon.” 

“Hm, sure. Have a goodnight, Spidey. I’ll see you around.” 

“You too, Y/N.” 

Then he swung off, it left a grin on your face. 

Until. 

‘How did he know my name?’ 

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part seven —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. reader menstruates. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: some chill stuff before more angst ya know

The next morning, it is your turn to slip a treat into Blue’s hand.

You can tell by her expression that the Twix bar is like gold to her. Her teeth sink in. She stifles a moan. She hisses a swear you haven’t heard yet— Fucking noodles.

It reminds you of the time Paul found a Cadbury egg for Joseph. You smile as you watch, the kind where your teeth manage to poke through and your cheeks have to do some stretching. Ghost is chopping wood somewhere on the other side of camp, but still, you decided to close the shed’s door. 

Last night, you were too worn to stay in the cabin for long. You left just after Ghost shucked on some large helmet with two strange eyepieces attached to it. To see in the dark, Blue explained in a whisper. Of course he would have that. When you asked him where he was going, he’d mumbled under his breath, Gonna make sure you didn’t have any bloody followers. You hadn’t even thought of that. He must not have thought of it until you actually showed up, either. He expected you not to make it.

You don’t know how long he was out there, but by the fact that you’d woken up to his axe chopping wood instead of heads, you figured the territory was clear.

“Better than Nutella?” you ask Blue.

Grey light streaks through the shed and over her face. The smell of potential rain looms in the air.

“That’s a tough question,” she says, licking the residue from her lips. She’s eaten half. She folds the wrapper over to cover the rest and hands it to you. Sweets like these are rare. You told her you’d keep it in your bag until she wanted the rest.

“I think it’s a strong tie,” she decides and then groans, moving her chin to the dip of her folded knees. “I wish chocolate could be hunted.”

“Me, too.”

“Are you sure you don’t want the rest?” She sounds guilty. “It is your Twix.”

“No, really. It’s a thank you.” Your knee gives a nudge to hers. “As if you haven’t given me food that is yours before.”

The guilt turns into a smile.

“You know,” she then says, eyes flicking to your pillowcase bag of looted goods. “When I was looking at your clothes last night, I got an idea of how you could fix them. Can I—” she tilts her head, “Can I show you something?”

She leaves Grim with you as she departs to collect whatever it is she has to share. It turns out to be a magazine of all things. She clutches it to her chest, rolling her lips together before turning it around to show you. The bright ink is faded a little. The corners bent and worn. The date of the issue reads March 2018. There is a woman on the front - some model you can’t remember the name of - clad in a tight blue dress.

The sight is just as weird as the abandoned streets and homes. For a moment, you look down at the skin of your hands, abraded from your bowstring, and press your lips.

“Remember how I told you Ghost and I went to a military base once?” Looking back up, you nod. “Well, we were mainly there to get ammo but we also went through the barracks— that’s where they slept.”

She explains it as if you have no clue, which you don’t. Never in your life did you care about the military, except for that first day when you hoped they might come to find you in some big tanks or something. They didn't.

Blue giggles. “I found this in one of the men’s old dorms.”

When she sees your expression, she says, “It’s okay. I’m not stupid. Ghost told me his old teammates liked to look at pictures of pretty women sometimes when they got bored. Anyway, I’ve looked through it so many times. I like all the fancy clothes people used to wear.”

She begins to flip through the pages and points out a few things. Where before you sometimes zoned out, your mind distracted by survival, this time you listen fully. One page has an ad with lush grass in the background and she informs you that the shade of green is her favorite color.

“Not blue?”

“That is my name, not my favorite color." Her nose scrunches. "What is yours?”

Do you even have one? You think for a moment. What comes to mind are the flowers your mother used to grow at the house in Norbury.

“Violet,” you softly say. “Like the flowers.”

“Huh?”

“They are like… a bluish purple.”

“Oh! There are some flowers like that by the pond sometimes. Hopefully, they come back this year."

Another page she points to has people laying on a white beach with crystal-like water. Blue says she hopes to go there someday. Not to just any beach. That beach.

When she passes an ad with a young man’s face on it - someone about your own age - she pauses for a moment and looks up.

"Do you think he is cute?" she asks. A tender curiosity.

"Um," you can't remember the last time you saw a man's face besides Paul. Ghost is always covered. She holds the page up so you can see it better. A sharp jaw. Dark hair and a strong nose.

"Yeah, he is very cute. Do you think so?"

She nods and bites her lip. "Did you… have a husband before shit happened?"

"What?" You frown. "I'm not that old."

"A boyfriend, then?"

"I had," you search the memories. They feel unimportant. Buried. "I had a few people who I enjoyed spending time with in uni."

"Like sex?"

You almost choke. "What?"

"I am not stupid," she says again. "The rabbits. They do it all the time. Ghost told me that's how they have their babies, and that is how him and my mum had me."

Oh. This is the first time Blue has ever mentioned her mother and you don't know why, but it makes your stomach tight. But she doesn't add anything else about her, as if she'd just told you the sky is blue or Grim is her friend. Something so casual. Brushed aside. As if, she hadn't mentioned it at all.

You don't pry about it.

Not to a kid. Trauma, grief— you can only imagine what a young brain has decided to do with them. But for a moment, your brain tries to imagine what kind of woman it could have been, what kind of woman Ghost enjoyed spending his time with. The only thing you can picture is Blue's eyes. She clearly didn't get them from him.

Blue moves on from the picture of the man. The page she really meant to show you is of a woman wearing jeans with a belt around them. She points to it and explains you could try something like that for the jeans you found.

Right. Jeans. Along with the blouse you grabbed, you got an ugly pink sweater and some jeans that won’t fit you.

"That’s called a belt," you say. “I don’t have one.”

“I have an old shoelace,” Blue says. “How about that?”

“That could work.”

Blue tells you bluntly that you need to bathe first. You smell like those fucks, no offense. You take your new clothes and she finds you a rag. In the bathroom, you harshly scrub your skin to erase the smell of rot. You wash your hair which is slick with sweat.

On your wrist, you notice a light bruise growing where that Grey had grabbed you. Luckily, you were too tired last night for your brain to conjure up any nightmares, otherwise, you probably would've had one about it biting you. Even a bite to just your hand - to a finger - would be enough for the virus to enter the bloodstream. You don’t want to admit it, but with that revolver, Ghost saved your life again. 

After bathing, you slip on the blouse and a pair of too-big jeans. Blue gives you the shoelace. You feed it through the belt loops. It works well enough. The pantlegs fall past your ankles so you roll them. You tuck the large blouse so the excess fabric won’t get in the way while you hunt. The sweater… you don’t bother with it for now. It’s not warm enough. You will stick with Paul’s old coat when you go outside. 

You look in the mirror again.

You stroke your own cheek, looking yourself over. You smooth your hands over the clothes. Underneath, you feel the plush of your breasts. The muscles of your stomach. The curves of your ribs. You are almost back to your normal weight, but it is still evening out. Under your eyes, the skin remains grey. Floorboards and stress will do that to a person.

"Let me see," Blue says on the other side of the door before you open it. You can still hear Ghost chopping wood outside.

“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.” She touches the sleeves. “These are pretty long. They will get in the way when you shoot arrows, right?”

You nod. “Can you bring me the scissors?”

After you cut the sleeves down to your wrists, Blue picks up the scraps of fabric. “Hey, you could tie your braids with these. Like ribbons.”

"I could," you shrug and give a smile. "But I think they would look nicer on you."

The shyness returns as she nods. Gently, you guide her in front of the mirror and begin working your fingers through her hair, just as you do most evenings.

You notice her staring in the mirror with studious eyes as if she is trying to understand exactly what she sees. You wonder if she ever compares herself to those girls in the magazine. An eleven-year-old you certainly used to.

"You look very pretty, Blue."

"It doesn't matter if I do," she shrugs. "It's not like anyone will ever actually get to see me."

"Well," you swallow, "I get to see you right now, and I think you are pretty."

"Thanks.” She accepts the compliment with a puckered expression, before it softens and she adds, "I think you are, too, Twix.”

Twix?

But before you can question it, you hear the front door shut and realize that the sound of chopping wood has been gone for at least a minute. It is clearly Ghost entering the cabin.

You drop your hands before you can finish the braids, stepping back. 

He calls out her name.

Recalling the rifle he pointed at you yesterday, you whisper to Blue, "Maybe you should go out before he—“

But of course, his heavy boots approach. The dark shadow of him materializes in the bathroom's doorway, consuming the space with his head dipped down to fit.

You turn around to face her father at the same time Blue does. His brows are drawn low and in one hand he carries the axe. You notice a sheen of sweat at the bridge of his nose where his mask begins.

The thing is, you try to avoid being spotted alone with Blue like this. She talks to you in your shed. You interact when he is busy with things.

Ghost reaches for Blue’s hand. He gently tugs her to him. He cups the back of her head and bends down to meet her level, though he is still much taller.

"Remember what we talked 'bout?”

What did they talk about?

"I remember," she mumbles. She tugs her arm away. "I was just helping her with her new clothes.” Smoothly, she changes the topic. “What do you think? The shoelace was my idea."

Blue. You almost groan, feeling his dark eyes slowly shift over to you. You think you would rather him press the axe to your throat than share his opinion about your clothes— they aren’t exactly like what the models in Blue’s magazine wore. His stare rarely does anything other than burn holes through your skin, so it is no surprise when you feel the heat through your blouse, up your neck, and all the way to your cheeks.

You look down at your feet.

Then, a bitter memory comes to mind.

You look like you're one 'em already.

That is what Ghost said once.

For a brief moment, you wonder if he still thinks it.

He doesn’t give an answer. All he does is clear his throat. Your strange curiosity fades as he stands and looks down at his daughter. 

"C'mon, kid. Start the fire with me."

"No, not yet. She needs to finish my hair, Ghost."

He allows it, but remains in the doorway, watching as you finish her braids, using the fabric as floral bows to tie them off. 

It looks nice.

It rains just like you thought it would.

Not too heavy, but enough to cut your hunt short for the day, earning you only one squirrel.

When you return to camp, you find Blue crouched over the wood planter as she covers the sodden soil with a layer of mulch. Apparently, Ghost had her plant some cabbage seeds before the rain. The mulch is to stop the seeds from washing away, she explains.

Spring will soon arrive. With it, some crops to add to their meals. Good for them. Maybe you can convince Ghost to lend you a seed or two to plant for yourself. 

After dinner, you sit by the fireplace with your boots off in order to warm your toes. The soft drum of rain against the cabin's walls lulls you into a trance as you listen to Ghost quietly read to Blue. Sometimes he points to words for her to try.

Tonight it is a book you recognize.

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

Your father read it to you once. A younger version of yourself told him it was too boring. But now you find yourself quite liking the story about a magic wardrobe where kids can escape to another world.

Blue falls asleep on the couch. Ghost carries her to bed like usual. It is your time to leave. The rain has died down some but you already know the water has probably leaked into your shed. Lovely. 

But again you are stopped by a hand around your arm. 

You turn to see Ghost. He clutches the map in the other hand.

“Um. What is it?”

You slip your arm away, his grip allowing it. Is he mad about you hanging out with Blue? Did he discover your secret exchanges? Is he going to finally kick you out since you didn't die like he probably hoped?

“Sit with me.”

You raise your eyebrows. He motions for you to follow him to the table so you sit down, hands in your lap, and pick at the skin of your knuckles. He spreads the map open. He also has a pencil in his hand. Between gloved fingers, he fiddles with it before sliding it over to you.

To your surprise, he demands, “Show me where you went.”

Although confused, you abide, making a small mark over the village. Ribchester. 

His eyes narrow. “Not jus’ that. Show me which way you went.”

“This way,” you say, annoyed by his tone. Faintly, you draw a line through the forest all the way to the highway. “Then I followed the road.”

He takes the pencil from you and slides the map back in front of him, sweeping his eyes over the marks you’ve made. Under the black fabric, you detect the contour of his lips pressed into a straight line.

“How many were there?”

“Not many, really,” you admit. “Do you… Are you wanting to go there?” 

You furrow your brows as you recall what Blue said. They don't make trips often. It is not like Ghost has much need to. 

“No.” Not looking at you, he draws a mark some kilometers south of the one you made. “I want to go here.”

“Why?”

“I need ammo.” 

His voice is clinical and gruff. You definitely prefer it over threatening. As he continues, it officially becomes the most words he has ever spoken to you. 

“Went to a base over here two years ago.” He points a gloved digit to a spot on the east side of the forest. That must be the trip that Blue was talking about. “Wasn’t much left. Took what I could.”

“You’re all out of ammo, then?” 

He gives you a flat look. “No. But I’m runnin’ low. I don’t want to wait until I am all out to go. Need some ammo to make it there, don’t I?”

“Why haven’t you gone sooner?” you pry slowly. “Why do you want to go now?”

“Got a bit more to lose than you do.” 

It is a harsh truth, inviting a sharp breath through your lungs. What he means is he has someone he loves, unlike you. Someone he can’t just leave behind on her own.

You realize that Ghost probably avoids leaving this haven he has set up for that very reason, and maybe it is also why he is particularly conservative about their supplies. Whenever they end up running low, he has to drag her along with him to get more. The threats out there can be hard to predict. You’d been lucky. 

Ghost continues.

“But if you could make it through here,” he gestures back to the marks you made. The route can act as a way to the military base, but he would still have to go further, maybe 10 kilometers past the village. “Then I can make it that way with her.”

You nod slowly as you begin to wonder why he is telling you this. But then, it sinks in, a pit settling in your stomach. If they leave, where are you supposed to go? 

Ghost must read the expression that takes over your face. You don't wear a mask.

“You’re comin’ with us.”

“What?” You stand up, shaking your head as you hiss through your teeth. “No. I don’t want to. I just fucking got back.”

“You’re not staying here on your own,” he growls quietly. “I’m not askin’ whether you want to go or not.”

You catch his eyes. Black glass reflects the dim glow of the fire.

Of course.

He doesn’t trust you enough to stay here.

You have no choice.

[cinnamostar]

lotus

pairing : seungmin x gn!reader

summary : how do you save a failing relationship?

wc : 921

cw : established relationships, angst, sadness, a touch of fluff, not proof read

a/n : hehehe ok i ended up getting inspired again! let me know what you guys think!!!! also hehe lotus flowers can represent rebirth/new beginnings btw >:3

wilted petals laid across the counter, the color they once held greying out as the dried edges chipped away over time. the flowers that once blossomed beautifully in its porcelain vase had long died out, the life that once coursed through it left without a trace, leaving behind the depressing, unsightly death of a flower. the few petals that remained clung onto the stem of the flower in a desperate attempt to hold onto life, yet their grip would eventually loosen as it weathered its painstakingly slow demise, signifying the end of its life cycle. their reluctance to let go was pitiful, yet it felt like the bouquet of dying flowers now only mocked you and served as a cruel metaphor of the state of your relationship.

months had gone by, the fiery passion that once ignited the love story you and seungmin wrote had been put out, leaving behind only a trail of ash and soot that covered every inch of your hands. the pages of this novel was slowly ripping at its seams, the book thinning out as you desperately thumbed through it, praying to find a clue on how to rekindle this dying romance. except your touch would leave behind cinders on each page, the words you hopelessly searched through now becoming illegible.

you both had become complacent, completely forgoing the smallest details of maintaining a healthy relationship which ultimately whittled down the foundation of your love. the cracks had become more apparent, the soullessness behind each action was undeniable, and you were both becoming exasperated as you tried to keep up appearances to one another, not willing to admit there was a growing issue that needed to be addressed. they say ignorance is bliss, but the tension between you two hung heavily and was gradually drowning you, and it was about time for one of you break to the surface to catch your breath.

tonight, you and seungmin were sitting across each other at the dinner table, quietly eating the take out food you ordered. it was upsettingly silent, not a single exchange of words and only the sound of your utensils scrapping against your plates could be heard.

what was the point of this anymore? why had you both accepted this new norm without a fight? had you both become use to each others presence? were you both too afraid to face the possibility of loneliness? did he even still love you?

these questions had occupied your mind for months, the number of them growing as the aching feeling your heart once suffered from had slowly become numbing.

should you say something? right now? interrupt the faux peace that you two had become accustomed to?

maybe, maybe not. it was all too daunting to not know where that conversation would leave, but you also no longer wanted to live with never ending misery. something had to be done.

“do you still love me?” you whisper, your voice quivering with trepidation, bracing yourself for his response.

seungmin looks up from his meal, his piercing gaze meeting yours, uncertainty and fear in hiding behind his stoic expression. he lets out a heavy huff, nodding his head as he took in your words, “of course i do. do you still love me?”

“yes, always,” you respond, your face softening at his confirmation, “but… what happened to us?”

he didn’t need you to further explain yourself, the few words you spoke carried the weight of your sadness as he reflected on the state of your deteriorating relationship. “im not sure,” he sighs, “im sorry.”

you swallow thickly as a lump of your emotions manifests in your throat, “im sorry too,” tears begin to prick your eyes, “what do we do?”

“i don’t know.”

“i don’t know either.”

the uncomfortable, familiar silence returns in its place as you each gaze longingly at the other. what was there to do? there was no guide book on how to salvage the skeleton of a relationship, the tendrils of love thinning out as they weakly held your hearts together.

seungmin clears his throat, as if to disperse the tensity in the atmosphere, “do you want to keep trying?”

you bit the inside of your cheek anxiously, “i do, but what if it doesn’t work out?”

“then at least we can say we tried our best,” he hums, mindlessly poking his food with his fork, “i wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if i didn’t try.”

“okay,” you nod meekly, “let’s try again.”

“when was the last time i took you out on a date?” he asks, pain evident in his voice upon making this realization.

“i don’t even remember,” you tearfully answer, looking away from seungmin’s eyes as his began to glaze over with anguish.

“i see,” he whispers to himself with a sniffle, “let’s start there then.” he forces a weak smile, feebly holding onto the bit of hope he rediscovered, “let’s remember why we fell in love in the first place, okay? let’s go to the ice cream shop we went on for our first date tomorrow. how does that sound?”

you look back at him, a touched smile that sent butterflies down seungmin’s abdomen, a smile he didn’t realize how much he missed, “i’d like that very much.”

the very next day, when you woke up to get ready for your date, the withering flowers had be replaced with flourishing lotus flowers. a small note scrawled with seungmin’s handwriting laid next to it:

here’s to a new beginning. i love you.

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Want You Back | ateez x reader

Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader

Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?

Warnings for this chapter: none

Word Count: 1774 words

a/n: ahhhh it's so surreal to know so many of you like this story!! thank you, thank you thank you so much!! your comments, likes and reblogs mean the absolute world to me!! I already have another fic in mind that I can't wait to share hehe. I was hoping to have this posted yesterday but the week was a bit busier. I'm aiming to post twice a week now that the story will pick up from here! hope you enjoy this chapter!! lots of love <3

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Chapter 3

Things hadn't been the same for the boys anymore. It was six months since you disappeared, without any trace and they were unable to locate you with their bond. Fear had engulfed them when they were told of the attack. They wasted no time in getting back to the mansion to protect you, as their mate and alpha protectiveness senses rang out.

But when they returned, you were nowhere to be found. Cleo, who had been saved by a member of the pack recounted what happened up until you two went separate ways. They searched for you but came back with no clues.

Where did you go? 

In fact, when they tried to call for you through the soul bond, they discovered how strained the bond had become. 

Slowly, each member began to realise just how little they had seen or been with you, and could not even recall the last time you spent time together. At first they tried to deny the truth, surely, there had to be another reason? They couldn’t fathom not taking notice sooner and allowing the connection to reach like this. 

Hongjoong's father wasted no time in educating them about their actions when they came to him seeking answers, especially when his wife tried to pipe in.

“It’s your fault.” he declared unapologetically. 

As he recounted everything to them, they were shattered and distraught by their actions. It dawned on them how ignorant they were to assume that you would always be there no matter what. If there was anything they were taught, it was how precious life is and how important it is to care for those around you. 

How could they do this to you?

"We all make mistakes." Mr. Kim said, "But one can only be redeemed, when he’s willing to learn from it and make a change."

After that confrontation, neither of the boys were the same again. With you now apart from them, your missing presence was felt more than ever in the home. Yeosang walked the mansion’s hall completely despondent, hoping to possibly find you in the little corner where the two of you read, every time he entered the room. Alas, you were not there. When Yunho woke up every morning and heard movement in the kitchen, his heart raced as he believed it was perhaps you, making breakfast just as you always would…but it was only Seonghwa who carried about low-spirited and disheartened. Yunho noticed the dark circles that were forming under the eldest eyes - Seonghwa never slept like he used to, getting approximately 3 to 4 hours of sleep and waking up at daybreak, trying to busy himself so he could forget the aching feeling in his chest just for a little while. He didn’t cry but rather, bottled up his emotions since being the eldest, he felt like he needed to be the strong one for the others. But, like every glass that reaches its brim, Seonghwa finally broke down when Yunho approached and back-hugged him in the tightest hug possible as he let his own tears fall. 

Unlike Seonghwa, San and Jongho slept all day when they could and only left their rooms, if it was for something important. But nothing else felt important except you, so much to their disdain, they ventured out of their rooms, only to head straight back once they got home. Wooyoung became quieter and stuck to Yeosang like glue. He didn’t do or say anything much, he was just there. Sometimes he would stare at the front door, hoping to see you waltz in with your charming smile and he could rush to you and spin you around like he always did. And then playfully scold you and then apologise profusely.

However, there was one particular wolf who was extremely impacted to the point where nothing could comfort him. While the others still tried to find solace in sleep or in each other, Mingi was unable to find consolation in anything. He felt like his heart had been ripped off his chest and there was a void that was only something you could fill. But they still couldn't find you. Mingi tried to initiate the bond hoping that you would feel it and call out to him, but like all the other times he tried, there was no response. He cried until the early hours of the morning and he could not sleep. Even if he dozed off, his dreams were of you and then he would jolt awake again, the aching, distressful and bitter void resurfacing again and he remembers you’re still not here. Then the cycle would continue.

As the boys coped differently, the most different was Hongjoong, who by all accounts had become emotionless and also very mean. He would let Lila wrap her arms around him as if they were a couple, he would try to bring her home only to have Seonghwa immediately denounce it and make it abundantly clear that this kind of behaviour would not be allowed or tolerated. Lila would leave the second she stepped foot into the foyer and Seonghwa and Hongjoong would have it out until the latter stomped off to his room never to be heard from again until the next morning. And that was if anyone did see him. He would leave before Seonghwa came out of his room. It took all effort in Mingi when he did see Hongjoong to not punch him in the jaw. He did not know what he was playing at, and quite frankly, he did not care to know Hongjoong's excuses as he was already extremely fed up, especially because of the way Hongjoong's mother spoke.

"Maybe you should forget her and move on with someone else," she said as she eyed Lila, “The pack needs their Luna and people are talking.”

That was during a family dinner with all their respective families. First and foremost, Mingi was not amused. He was already dragged to the dining hall against his will, and then when he saw Lila present standing next to Hongjoong, he was ready to just explode into thin air. And then, Hongjoong’s mom decided to speak, and that was the last straw. 

It didn't take even a second for Mingi to slam his hands on the table and get up with a low growl in his throat.

“With all due respect Mrs Kim, I suggest you stay out of our personal lives and let us handle it on our own. Your comments are very unnecessary.” he seethed venomously. 

 Mingi then stalked off, slamming the door behind him. He didn't care if he was disrespectful, he was fed up with the nonsense. It baffled him as to why Mrs Kim had such disdain for you, ever since he met you, you told him about her low tolerance for you but there was never a clear indication as to why. 

He knew you were still alive and he knew the other boys felt it too. Your soul connection was still there, though strained, he could feel it lingering. But where exactly were you? He was interrupted by Wooyoung shouting his name.

“Mingi wait!”

“What are you doing here Wooyoung?”

“I wasn’t going to let you leave like that, not everyone is pleased at your outburst.”

“And? I do not care Wooyoung, I’m not going back to listen to Mrs Kim spew ridiculous nonsense. Lila shouldn’t even be there.”

“I know and I agree. Mrs Kim has wanted to replace Y/N since the beginning but she should know better than to even suggest something like that.”

“Go back and tell them I won’t be coming back any time soon. I need to clear my head.”

“Fine but please reach out, I can’t lose you too…” Wooyoung muttered.

Mingi turned to the black-haired boy and saw the fear in his eyes. Wooyoung is the second youngest and basked in being taken care of, doted on and adored by you. In contrast to Jongho who was more reserved most of the time and sought you out privately, Wooyoung, although an alpha, is like a playful child. You were right in between Mingi and Wooyoung in age and so, right before you came Mingi and at a time like this, Wooyoung saw Mingi as the closest.

“I will, don’t worry.” he answered in a soothing and reassuring tone.

After Wooyoung left and Mingi decided he wasn't going back home to get an earful from his parents, he sauntered off towards the lake and the Moon temple. 

He recalled Cleo saying it was the direction you went when you two broke off. Maybe he could find something there.

Arriving at the clearing of the lake, he saw the shimmering blue water glistening under the moonlight. It was another full moon, just like when you disappeared. He had to spend the holidays and his birthday without you and he hated it. Mingi couldn’t even recollect the times he had spent holidays and birthdays by himself. As soon as you and the boys came into his life, his life became a kaleidoscope of colours. 

When Mingi saw the temple, he felt his walls come down. He forgot about Mrs Kim’s comments and the anger that bubbled through his veins. Instead, the wave of pain and hurt opened like a locked dam and he fell on his knees in front of the temple, choked with tears.

"Please..." he cried, "Please bring her back. I need her. I-I was so wrong for what I did. I can't believe I treated her that way. I promise! I'll do better! I won't ever neglect her again. Please bring my angel back. Please."

Mingi sobbed and sobbed profusely that he didn't hear the rumble the first time. He thought it was his stomach and now was definitely not a good time. But then the second time, when he realised it was coming from elsewhere, he turned around to see the ripples in the lake and how much more brightly the water shone under the moonlight. It was mystical and divine. He approached the lake cautiously, he couldn't explain it, but he felt a pull and for some reason…he felt you. Your tie to him and your aura felt to be coming from the lake. But was that possible? He pushed away any intrusive thoughts, focusing solely on you, a clear image of your bright smile and eyes lit up etched into his mind. It was the way you would always look at him as you cupped his face in your hand and teased him before kissing him.

Mingi inched closer, trying to take his time.

But then he fell in.

[jacespookiebear]

ೃ࿐ 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡: 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 5

summary : you are the youngest daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Aemma Arryn. Outlived your mother and your older twin brother, Baelon, in childbirth. You were titled as (Y/n) “The Undying” Targaryen.

pairing : jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!reader

warnings : incest, tension, sexual content, age gap (reader is about 3-4 years older), jace is about a year older in this fic, misogyny, self-harm, violence, angst, teen pregnancy, birth, meraxes is alive and thriving with vhagar :D

Masterlist

“Hush now, Princess,” Lysanna tried her best to console you as you kept spurting tears. You blew into the tissue she gave you. “You were only frustrated..” you were all back on Dragonstone from Driftmark, except for the Ser Laenor, who was murdered, in his own home and in his father’s hall. Not only were your nephews grieving over their father’s death but you all had just came back from the wedding ceremony of Daemon and Rhaenyra. The Old Valyria wedding put all kind of emotions on the children’s faces, especially Daemon’s daughters. You and Lysanna certainly had no clue on what to feel. But you weren’t crying about that, it has been over a few weeks since you told your step-mother a heavy lie, it had you refuse to even look or speak to your nephew, Jace, ever since.

“And what of my nephew?!” you lifted your head to face Lysanna, who frowned and could not speak another word. “He will forever curse me once he finds out! He will hate me..” you continued to sob and sneeze into the tissue. Rhaenyra was there, hearing of it all. She wasn’t mad at all, no, she was quite contented! But had worried for you, of course.

Though, she had thought it was wrongful to put yourself and her family in a bad position with Alicent. Daemon thought you were fussing over nothing. Honestly, the couple wouldn’t mind if you were to be betrothed to the eldest son, your bond with Jace reassured Rhaenyra that it would be a marriage of eternal happiness and love. “Sister, stop your cries. I had no idea you had thought of Jace as a potential suitor.” She lightly chuckled. You scoffed at her comment, but said nothing . The corners of her lips lifted and her eyes glint with wonder, “Jace would never hate you. In fact, I believe this is what he always wanted.”

You got up from your chair to circle around your lady-in-waiting and your sister, clearly getting ready to rant some more. “You don’t understand!” you choked on your tears and gave yourself another break to breathe, like what Lysanna told you to. “I said a lie..a lie that is utterly unacceptable! Jacaerys said it himself—if he was to be betrothed, it would be out of duty not out of love!” you continued as the two listens, “And I have been ignoring the poor boy..I’m the worst person to have ever lived in the Realm..”

“Stop that nonsense now, Y/n,” Rhaenyra ordered, and suddenly there was a knock on your chamber doors and it began to swing, you quickly ran out of the view and under your bed:

“It must be Jace! I can’t look at him in the eye!”

You heard Rhaenyra groan at the way you hid so quickly, Lysanna laughing at the scene. Jace entered the chambers, with a frantic look on his face.

“Mother,” he muttered, turning to look around the room and once he was done, he frowned at his unsuccess. “have you seen the Princess? I searched the entire castle for her. We have not spoken since..I am worried..” you felt your heart break at his words and tone.

“My darling boy,” Rhaenyra smiled, she and Lysanna exchanged a look to each other before continuing, “I heard she might be in the gardens..but before you go, you must answer me truthfully.“

Jace stared back at his mother and gave a slight nod, wondering what she wanted to ask. He was worried it was a question concerning the Princess, you.

“Are you upset with the Princess?”

The question made Jace blink in confusion. He wondered where did his mother get the impression that he was in distress. But to answer her, he shook his head, “No. Why would I be?” he asked, curiously. Rhaenyra only smiled in return and slightly shrugged her shoulders,

“No reason,” your sister said, “be sure to tell your aunt.” Jace nodded and pardoned himself to leave the chambers, continuing his mission to look for you before having to go back to his studies with your uncle, Daemon. Once he left, you slid out from under your bed and heard Lysanna continue her laughing fit, you gave her a glare in return.

Rhaenyra got up from her seat and had plan to leave but before she could, she turned to look over to you, “You should go to him. Talk to him—he will understand. If you want my truth, I believe Jacaerys would be the perfect suitor for you.”

Your sister gave you a smile before she walked out. You bit your lip in frustration, she was possibly right. Lysanna helped you off the floor, quickly fixing your hair before you excused her to go find the twins and Luke to play in the library like always. After some time of hesitation, you finally walked through the halls of the castle and went outside to the gardens to find your nephew. Finding him was easy as he was near Meraxes, who was laying next to the trees, resting.

Your nephew looked rather stubborn when he couldn’t see you anywhere near your dragon but his face was quickly lit up when you approached him. “Princess!” he ran up to you, Meraxes slightly lifted her head and let out a huff, it was a sign that she missed your presence.

“Forgive me, my Prince,” you fiddled with your sleeves, you gave Jace a neutral smile. He looked confused for why you were apologizing, “These past few days…I have left you in the shadows..”

Jace nodded in agreement but held no ill feelings towards you. He watched as you began to pick at your skin once again and stopped you before your skin could turn red. “You must hate me.”

“I do not,” he answered, “I have missed you.”

“What a sweet reassurance.” You dryly confessed.

“You’re troubled,” Jace noted, curiously. “I wish to help you if only you tell me.” You hesitated to speak once more but Rhaenyra’s words clouded your thoughts and you grew more confident.

You gave your nephew a genuine smile and signaled him to walk with you through the gardens. “I am to be betrothed.” Jace quickly whipped his head to the side to look at you, panic spread all over his face. He did not look happy, not one bit.

“To whom?!”

“Well—many great houses had offered their sons’ to me. Uncle certainly had enjoyment in declining every offer,” you explained, “he says no lord deserves the hand of the Realm’s Beauty.”

Jace, still not convinced, he bore an emotionless expression as you finished speaking. “Are you to marry a Martell?” he asked, you shook your head once again. You were making his head spin, then who were you supposed to marry?

“It is my duty to tell you the truth,” you begun. You let out a deep breath and took Jace’s hands into yours, “I had whispered such lies about us and for that, I am terribly sorry, my sweet nephew,” the anticipation left Jace very impatient and nervous, “I have spoken on your behalf to the Queen…we would be married..” after the long line of silence, certainly you expected a harsh shove and a angered expression but instead he tightened his grip on your hands.

“I will do my best to honor you, my Princess. I am relieved to hear you say those words.”

You shook your head at his words, surely he was only saying those out of duty. You wanted his honest feelings. “Please do not lie. It was my fault, it is not my place to speak wrongfully about you and for that I am terribly sorry.”

Jace grumbled at how you pulled away. “It does not matter,” he says, “I am quite contented to know you want us to be betrothed…are you?”

His question burned into your head, you did not know how to feel or what to say. You are happy to know that your nephew was on your side, that you do not need to marry a high lord from a great house. House Baratheon and House Lannister were amongst them and were rather desperate for your hand, your uncle tells you—from the many letters they sent and offers they bargained to the King. Rhaenyra had liked the decision of offering your hand to the new Warden of the North—Cregan Stark, he was around the same age as you and is a capable fighter. But you were happy enough to know you would marry your nephew, he would make you happy and is a noble boy who has respect and honor unlike your brother, Aegon.

“I am happy.” you insisted, truthfully. 



To your answer, Jace looked relieved and sighed happily. He gave you a smile and you both continued to walk together while he began holding onto your hand.

That settles, you thought. You will marry Jacaerys.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As times have passed, 2 years to be exact, very quickly. You had just turned ten-and-seventh and your betrothed certainly had many plans in mind for his ten-and-fourth nameday that was coming up. Rhaenyra had decided to let the celebrations be held in King’s Landing, to the King’s requests. The halls of where meetings were held, you sat in front of your sister and uncle who had continued making preparations for your wedding. Your betrothed was running late, Lysanna had informed you that he slept late last night.

“I had already requested for an Old Valyrian wedding,” you reminded for the hundredth time. Your uncle, Daemon was all on board for it, you are a Targaryen and you must stick to traditions. “I do not wish to be married under the Seven. I do not believe in the Seven. This is my marriage, remind the Queen of that.”

Rhaenyra tapped on the wooden table, she received word from the Queen that she would like to also be part of the planning of your wedding. She wished for you to have a wedding under the Seven, with all the Great Houses present, but you wanted an Old Valyrian wedding. For years, you planned for your wedding to be held under the great traditions of your house. Rhaenyra was rather frustrated to be in the middle of your quarrel with your step mother but of course, Daemon found it amusing.

Your elder sister let out a tired sigh, she leaned into her seat. Although she sided with you but the Queen had very much insisted on this matter. “I understand, sister. But I have tried to reason with the Queen. I shall talk more on the matter when we arrive to King’s Landing for Jace’s nameday.” as she finished, the doors opened and your lady-in-waiting, Lysanna, arrived with a handful of letters.

“My Princess, I brought the letters that you had asked for,” she announced and you ushered her to come closer. The letters that you had Lysanna prepare to send across to the North, to her brother, the lord of Winterfell. Letting Lord Stark know you were arriving to visit Winterfell after your wedding. You’ve been planning to have a trip in the North for years now and you made sure to also bring Lysanna. She had shown to be grateful to visit her brother after years of being apart.

“Very well, Liz,” you spoke happily, you looked over at the letters with content and they were all beautifully written. Lysanna was known to be very proud of her penmanship, since she had become learning how to write, her main duties were to write all the letters that were to be sent from Dragonstone. “Have a raven send them off. And with our preparations..let us be finished, sister, I shall retrieve to my chambers.” you wished, with a nod from your sister, you had left your seat. As you left, Lysanna stayed behind to talk with Rhaenyra and Daemon about the continued demand letters from House Lannister, it’s been years since Rhaenyra announced your betrothal to Jacaerys Velaryon and yet, House Lannister had still insisted on offering Jason Lannister’s hand.

With each step towards your chambers, you grew more irritated. Irritated towards your step-mother, who wouldn’t take no for answer. You felt yourself grow mad everyday. As though you are in Dragonstone, miles away from King’s Landing, your step-mother still found a way to have a say in every decision you tried to make.

With you occupied in your own thoughts, you suddenly felt large but strong hands wrapped around your torso and pulled you inside in a room— a room that looked to be Jace’s chambers. Letting out a loud gasp, you heard a chuckle. Once you turned, you saw your betrothed. He was dressed in his training attire. Jace had grown so much, he grown to be more taller and bigger. His looks are more defined and mature, no longer possessing those chubby cheeks you had always squished when he was younger. But Jace could say the same about you.

You always were beautiful, but still you had changed, a lot. Your hair grew more longer and fuller. The curls appeared to be tighter with the years that had passed. Certainly he had watched your breasts and hips mature as well, you no longer had the ability to wear the dresses you had owned since you were twelve. Rhaenyra had the seamstress make you a whole closet filled of gowns after your ten-and-fifth nameday. Now you mainly wear blue and purple gowns to honor your betrothed’s house. You had still worn red and black gowns from time to time, though, you missed wearing white. It was a color that suited you better than any color, everyone in the Kingdom would agree.

“Ñuha hūra qēlossās,” Jace cupped your face, with your frustrations still bubbling inside you, you moved away from his touch. Noticing on your behavior, he did not urge to touch you again, wanting to respect you. “my apologies for not arriving at the planning..”

“You said you would make an effort in attending.” you remembered. As much as you loved Jace, you couldn’t help but feel a little unsure in this betrothal. Making your way near his window sill, you could feel Jace’s presence behind you.

He sighed, sitting on the couch that was nearby instead of being right by your side. He wanted you to come to him when you were ready. “Indeed I have..promised...” he knew he screwed up. You were already so tense about the whole wedding and to make it even worse, he couldn’t show up to the preparations.

Silence covered the room, it went by slowly. Jace was impatient, he wanted you to speak. To break the silence. To break the awkward atmosphere in the room. But you continued to look out the window, you watched Meraxes fly freely in the sky, Vermax closely following behind. The two became inseparable year after year, the ill tempered dragon grew more comfortable around the company of the Silver Queen. A small memory clouded your mind, one where you had to apologize profusely to the dragonkeepers who were in charge of Vermax, receiving angry roars and scratches from him whenever forced to be separated from Meraxes. You remembered being so mad at Jace who only laughed at the situation when you explained it to him.

“It appears Vermax shares the same love I have for you, for Meraxes.” Jace had once said to you. The words stuck with you ever since, unsure how to feel or what to say. It was possibly true for a dragon to share the emotions with their dragonrider.

“She wishes for us to be married under the Seven,” you muttered, confessing what is on your mind. Lifted your head to turn to look over at Jace, “who knows what else she wishes..next she will force our children to bear names that are not suitable for Velaryons..”

Jace let out a soft laugh. The thought of your children together— makes him fill with joy, though he does not show it. “I shall agree with her,” furrowed your brows at what he had said. He continued, “our children would be Targaryens.”

“Ñuha vēzos, you are a Velaryon.”

“Not when I ascend the Iron Throne.”

He is right. Once he is crowned King, he will bear the name Targaryen, meaning your children will start bearing the name Targaryen as well. Making you remember that your firstborn would inherit the Iron Throne after Jacaerys and so would their firstborn. Even when time will pass, you still could not wrap your head around those facts,

“If it bothers you, Princess, then we can name them after dragons.” the thought of having your children be named “Balerion” or “Vermithor” made you giggled. Your mind no longer remembering your anger towards Alicent but now you were ecstatic and in a good mood— all because of your future husband.

“Even if you had forgotten about your husbandly duties,” you turned your body away from the window and moved towards Jace, “you were able to help me forget all about my troubles.” you sat on the couch and moved closer to him.

“Thank you.” you whispered into his ear. Jace gently held onto your arms and wrapped them over his shoulders for you. You breathed in his scent as a way to calm your nerves. Perhaps you were wrong. In your eyes, you made the right decision in choosing Jacaerys to be your future husband, the future father to your children.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I feel like this chapter was a little more shorter than the others😒 I’m sorry about the delays. School is rough!! I was having trouble with how the story should continue but I’m adding more and more plot cus I love this fic so much it’s like my baby right now.

taglist (woohoo!): @sigynxlokiwifelover @l-3-e @audigay @urmomsgirlfriend1 @cold-v0dka @cookielovesbook-akie @theoriginalwife000 @xoxovenusquinn(would not let me tag u:( @ghalakgx (would not let me tag:( @neenieweenie @classysassynabitsmartassy @generousbearwolflight @gariben @si1versamurai @deltamoon666 @aemondssiut (would not let me tag u:( @thelastemzy @ryantryan6969 @topazy @starogeorgina @infinitleyethereal @speedypeter @dramaroomrat @potatolady189 (would not let me tag u:(

[malii-the-bonehead]

The Other Woman pt1

its here ladies and gents its here.

Slow burn

Summary: Chris, a popular hockey player at school where Y/n went, found himself falling for the beautiful, shy girl. As time went on he found out who Y/n truly was as a person and ultimately, he had to make the choice, his girlfriend, or the other woman.

She was beautiful and he knew it. He knew because every chance he got, he would look in her direction. She sat so perfectly in 3rd hour history class, her back facing him. But he could imagine exactly what her face did. The way she focused so hard. So hard that she’d lick her lips too many times. The way her eyebrows furrowed when she didn't understand the lesson. Her long hair perched in a messy bun on top of her head. How her cheeks were always dusted with a light pink color. She was so, so beautiful. Not everyone would think that, but one adored her. Chris adored everything about her. She was so sweet and soft spoken and she was a little bit shy. He would listen to her talk when the teacher would ask a question and wonder how she got so wise and smart. He was proud of someone he never knew.

He thought about her a lot. And ofcourse, he was beautiful as well, but he didn’t think so. He thought he could never, ever be good enough for her. Chris thought he lacked the smarts and personality that she had. He thought he wasn’t worthy of her, and so many people, except himself, knew he was more than capable. Chris wasn’t exactly sure of how popular he was in school. Him on one side of the social status and her on the other.

Despite not many people knowing her, the ones who did were fond of Y/n. They had no reason to despise her. Everyone apart from Chris’ girlfriend. No one understood why, not even Chris. And Chris loved his girlfriend, but she wasn’t Y/n. The love he felt for Y/n was different from Clairisa, Chris’s girlfriend. She was beautiful too, super smart as well and always kind.  But there was something that drew Chris to the other woman. He didn’t have a clue what it was but it kept tugging at him. And it pained Chris to know that if Clairisa knew how he felt about Y/n, it would crush her. But that didn’t stop him. He just wanted to talk to her. To be close to her. He wanted to be her friend. That’s why he’s where he’s at right now, in front of Y/n's desk in their only shared class.

Y/n’s pov

I wrote on my paper, studying the last bit of information I could before the test. I didn't have time to study last night. Work kept me up til around midnight, and when I did finally arrive home, I had to clean the kitchen. It was always a mess when I got home. I regret not doing it after school, seeing how tired and stressed I was this morning. I scribbled down as much as I could. I found that I can memorize things quicker if I write it down a few times. God how I hated history. I was good at everything, math, science, English, and even French class, but history? Hell no. I sighed, closing my eyes and rubbing them with my fingers. I heard a slight tap on my desk in front of me. I moved my hands from my face and looked up slightly. It was a boy with brown hair and very blue eyes. I felt my face form a confused expression. I knew who he was, everyone did. Chris Sturniolo was kind of popular with the girls and he was very friendly with the majority of the guys at school as well. Most knew him because he played hockey, and damn was he good at it. 

Why is he at my desk? Class is about to start and he’s at my desk.

“Um, yes?” I asked, glancing over his face before shifting in my spot. His gaze was making me uncomfortable.

He looked at me for a few seconds, but it felt like so much longer. He looked like he wanted to get something off his mind but couldn’t form the words.

“Do you need something?” I questioned him once more. Then, as he was opening his mouth to say something, he closed it and walked away to his desk. I looked down at my hands on my lap. What was that about?

I glanced back slightly, him already looking at me. I quickly turned around, picking up my pencil and scribbling on my paper again, trying to hide my face from others that were filing into the room. I felt a blush slowly creep up my neck. Well that was embarrassing. The bell rang meaning class was starting. I closed my book as the teacher announced we had a test today and started going over the directions of what to do after we had finished.

The test wasn’t difficult at all. I was actually the second one to finish it. I knew I had gotten an A on it. Majority of it was common sense. After I turned the paper in to the teacher, I walked back to my desk. I glanced around the room, my eyes finding the top of Chris’s head. He had his head down, probably sleeping. Did he finish his test? Why is he sleeping right now? I shook my head slightly and sat back down at my desk. I opened my bag and grabbed my phone and headphones. I opened my music app and played my music, letting out a breath and sighing. I had work again today. From 4 to 11:30. That meant that when I got home I had to clean the house quickly, so I didn’t struggle like I did last night. I placed my head down softly, shutting my eyes and listening to the music playing through my headphones.

–

School was slow. Every class seemed to take forever. I think it was because I was so exhausted. Lunch was nice though. I normally go outside for lunch. I like to look at the sky, listen to my music and enjoy the quiet. Sometimes there would be the occasional person to say hello to me but today it was just my thoughts. I was grateful for that. I appreciated the 45 minutes of peace. I liked talking to people, but most of the time it was too much to deal with. Talking meant focusing, and lunch was the time that I didn’t need to focus, unless I was cramming information in my head because of an exam next hour. 

The last bell of the day rang, excusing students to go home and enjoy the rest of the day for themselves. I walked outside, to my car. A white  2017 Nissan Sentra. Nothing special, but I loved it. It was cozy and gave me good memories. Memories I’ll hold onto for the rest of my life. My dad got it for me on my 16th birthday a year and a half ago. That was probably the best birthday I’ve ever had.

I got in and shut the door, starting the car. I looked around, making sure it was safe to go. Slightly to my left, a little ways across the parking lot, I spotted Chris leaning against his girlfriend's car, his hands in his pockets. She was leaned up against him, talking about something I obviously couldn’t hear. 

She’s so pretty, I thought to myself. I’ve always admired her, always been jealous of her since the 4th grade. She’s so lucky to have a guy like Chris. She deserved him. He deserved her. I blinked slowly, realizing I was staring at them. She kissed him and walked around to the driver side of her car. He walked to the passenger side and they both got in, pulling out of the parking lot. I leaned back in my seat. I wonder what he needed earlier. I honestly forgot about it, even though the situation made me very uncomfortable. I hope he didn't think anything bad of me. I mean, why was he standing there just looking at me. Why didn’t he talk? What if he wanted something from me? What would he want? I have nothing to offer so why would Chris Sturniolo be at my desk? I put my head down, rubbing my eyes with my fingers, for what felt like the 10th time today. I lifted my head and drove out of the parking lot, going in the direction of my home.

You have more important things to worry about, Y/n. Get home and get ready for work. But, I still thought about those blue eyes looking into mine all the way home. 

[elisela]

‘this is my husband/boyfriend/partner etc.’ + NurseyDex

that's mine nurseydex, alternating pov

.

Nursey goes flying. Headfirst into the goal, arms flailing, Will thinks he hears a yelp sort of flying. He only resists the urge to roll his eyes because Bitty’s looking right at him and he doesn’t want a lecture. 

Still—when one of the assholes on the other team barks out a laugh and says, “Who was that, Bambi?”, Will can’t help but sigh.

“That’s my teammate, asshole,” he says, and cuts over to check him against the boards. 

—

Derek misses the days that the frogs were wide-eyed and respectful in the Haus. These kids—he’s going to need some sense knocked into them soon. They’re loud, rowdy, and far too interested in integrating into the group by joining in on the teasing, which is a right they have not yet earned.

Like now, when they’re giggling to themselves and looking at him.

“So—” one of them starts, smirking, and never finishes.

“So,” Derek repeats, jerking his thumb at Dex, “that’s my roommate.”

The laughter grates on his nerves, but not as much as pretending he doesn’t care about sharing a room with Dex.

—

Nursey is … singing? Will thinks that’s what he’s trying to do at least, and he’s heard him sing almost every day in the shower so the warbling coming out of his mouth is surprising. He’s not saying Nursey is good by any means, but he can sound decent with the right song and this … this is not the right song.

He doubts the fact that all the words being slurred thanks to being absolutely trashed is helping.

Will stays at the bar until the song is done, resolutely facing away from the somewhat dimly-lit karaoke stage so he doesn’t get dragged into participating. Luckily—or not, considering Ransom and Holster seem to have disappeared so the drunken idiot is now his responsibility—Nursey doesn’t say anything when he comes crashing up to the bar except, “Tequila shots?”

Will can barely understand him, but the look on his face—the one that appears whenever Nursey thinks he’s had a particularly good idea—speaks volumes. “Water,” he says firmly, sliding a waiting pint glass over. 

He really doesn’t understand whatever Nursey mumbles then, but he has more pressing problems, because his lap—previously empty of everything except his coat—is now occupied. “Jesus,” he mutters, trying to wiggle away. “Dude—Nursey—”

“S’comfy,” Nursey says, and Will tries once more to get him to move to his own seat with no avail.

The bartender, when she returns, gives Will a raised eyebrow. “He bothering you? I can get him out.”

Will sighs. “He’s a friend,” he says, and adds, “so he pretty much bothers me all the time.”

“Ya love me, pretty boy,” Nursey says. He starts to laugh—at what, Will has no clue—but it makes him wiggle in a way that Will isn’t sure he’s entirely comfortable with, and Nursey goes sliding to his own seat after another shove.

“Shut up and drink your water,” Will says, and motions to close their tab.

—

“That’s Jack,” Derek says, nudging his grandmother and pointing at the television, where Jack is leaning on the boards and chatting with the coach. “He’s on the Falconers.”

“I’m rooting for them,” she says, and tuts when Derek makes an aborted noise. “Hush, you don’t get to choose who I like. Is he a defender?”

Derek’s been playing hockey most of his life and every time he watches a game with his grandma it’s like she’s never heard of the sport before. “No, he’s not a defenseman,” he says. God help him, he’s never going to get through this game alive. 

The shot switches to a close-up and she hums. “Handsome.”

Derek shrugs. Jack’s fine, he supposes. A bit too bland for him, nothing that really stands out, not like—”And that’s Dex—Will—over there, in the white. Will—he’s my—” he swallows a bit too hard.

“If you think I haven’t figured out you like men and women, Derek, we’re going to need to have a conversation regarding your assumptions about my intelligence.”

He wonders if God would actually strike him down if he prayed hard enough. “He’s my boyfriend, Gram,” he says, staring resolutely at the television.

She hums again. “That Jack is more handsome though, don’t you think?”

It’s going to be a long game.

—

Will’s trying to hide. Table at the back, hat still on and pulled down low, black hoodie and black jeans. Anything to make himself blend into the background, because he doesn’t want to be caught dead here.

He also doesn’t want to be involved in any conversations, not that the girls at the table next to him have picked up on that. He’d made two fatal errors: being cordial when one of them had said hello, and admitting he’s never been to an open-mic poetry night.

They haven’t stopped talking to him since. 

“Okay, this guy—I’m not sure he’s your type, you know? Not that you aren’t like, super intelligent—I mean you’re here, right, so obviously—but he has a lot of heavy themes in his work if you really dig in and you really need to hear them a few times to peel back the layers. I’m hoping he reads the tree above the grave again, it’s—”

She cuts off, finally, when a cough sounds from the front and Derek begins to speak. There’s utter silence while he recites words that Will’s heard a hundred times over in various iterations, tweaked and stressed and polished until he could probably say them in his sleep, then an excited outburst of conversation among applaus when it’s over.

“Amazing, right?” she says, and keeps talking while Will nods. “Have you heard of him before?”

Will looks at her. “He’s the one I came for,” he answers honestly, grinning for the first time all night when he sees Derek making his way over. “He’s my husband.”

[bcitisthelight]

hey remember when we were discussing how weird the whole cliegg thing is in AOTC. and you had thoughts, feelings and emotions. tell me about those XOXO

(Big TW for this post - I discuss human trafficking, sex trafficking, rape, child abuse, slavery, and PTSD in this post. It's about the realities of slavery and Tatooine and how it involves the Skywalkers.) Something that I almost never see in any discussion on the Lars family is how sharply the fanon headcanons and characterizations of diverge from the ones we get in the moves. Like, particularly Cliegg and the prequel trilogy. Like - I feel like there's this automatic assumption that the Lars loved Shmi and that they cared for Luke out of dedication to her and her family, and it's this huge found family vibe but like can I be real. Can I be super real right now. It’s something that I find kind of baffling, because when I watched Attack of the Clones, and on every rewatch since (and there have been many), it always seems kind of obvious to me that Cliegg bought Shmi as a slave, presumably as a house slave, if not outright as a part of sex trafficking. And I don't mean in one of those "He bought her to free her, he's a good guy, etc etc". I mean, he bought her as a slave with the original intention of keeping her as a slave. And what's really interesting, is you can get pretty much all the clues about that from the exchanges between Anakin has with Watto, his and Shmi's former master.

Again, I want to stress that, because I think it's crucial that we see this for what it is - not an exchange between a former employee and his boss, not an exchange between a kid and a member of his former community. His former slavemaster. The man who won him and his mother in a gambling game like so many fancy necklaces. The source and object of Anakin's childhood enslavement. Watto would have beaten them. He made Anakin, a child of 9 - and I read somewhere once that Anakin started in the races at 6 - ride in a pod race that no human has ever won before, with the full expectation that he would die. This is a being whose entire life has revolved around the certainty that society is not only capable of functioning, but functions best, when sentient beings can be bought and sold like property. And, to be real with you, because this is a thing that happens to people who suffer enslavement, he very likely loaned them out temporarily for sex trafficking purposes for a quick buck - a practice that is noted historically in virtually every society that operated on a system involving slaves.

It's important to recap that, because I do think it's impossible to understand how deeply horrifying the conversation they have is without that context. Like, let's look at how he tells Anakin about Shmi -

This scene is....so telling to me. From the outset, Watto said he sold her as a slave. Like, it was a slave exchange. Watto heard about her freedom later - clearly, Cliegg bought her, and behaved in a way - intentional or not - that Watto believed he was buying her as a slave to own as a slave. That part is not subtext, that's just actual text.

"But Mikhayla" some will say "he freed her the second he bought her - he bought her in order to free her." Except....there is genuinely nothing in the movies, and off the top of my head, the wider narrative, that ever indicates that that's true. In fact it makes no sense in that case, for Watto to have not known that Cliegg was buying her in order to free her. Why would he have to hide that? Watto presumably doesnt care what happens to her, because he's selling her. In the larger materials, its said that his shop fell on hard times, and in the movies, we can see the proof. The script says he's sitting outside his shop, but at that point it resembles more of a kind of beaten down stand. He's still selling junk, but less and of poorer quality - presumably, he's spent all his money on gambling debts. And the thing is, slaves are expensive. He sold her years prior, and I bet he fed himself on that money for a very long time - he was a very motivated seller, as barbaric as that language is to use about a transaction involving a human person. He's not going to be fussy over why the person buying her wants to buy her. There's also the fact that this is a society that vastly runs on slavery, and large plantation owners would often "rent" out slaves to smaller but still profitable farms. And Cliegg is a moisture farmer with presumably a large tract of land for water vaporizers. If anything, I can see Watto having rented Shmi to her, Cliegg taking a liking to her, and then approaching Watto to buy her. I mean, if he's profitable enough to just buy a slave, then he clearly had at least some money. "He spent his whole savings!" Show me that in the text. "He loved her from the start!" Show me that in the text. "But Mikhayla," yet others will say, "he did free her! And then married her! He clearly meant from the start to free her, and only bought her to get her away from Watto. He could have never seen her as property. Who would marry their slave?" Except, in the real world, this is...another thing we see across multiple historical records, masters buying women as slaves and then later freeing them in order to legally marry them. PARTICULARLY in societies that operate so heavily on an entire caste system involving slaves - we can look to the Roman Empire, for example. Countless Roman officials, merchants, and military officials bought women, fell in love with them, and freed them in order to marry them. "But maybe she said yes!" (I know these are not your objections, but as you know, I'm an attorney, which means I constantly have to find an argument to fight against). So, to this imaginary detractor I say: I feel like it should be rather obvious, but I'll say it just in case - it is impossible for a slave to consent to any action they perform at the request of a slave master. It cannot happen. A woman who is enslaved cannot consent to marrying the man who bought her, and who has very likely been raping her up until this point, and wants to now marry her - usually, to make any children he had by her legally his children, and therefore citizens, rather than slaves themselves.

So really, whether or not Cliegg had a change of heart doesn't actually change my mind about his actions towards Shmi. I don't care if Cliegg DID love her - in fact, I'm sure he DID love her. People can and have convinced themselves of all kinds of moral superiority, people can claim to love someone while owning them as property! Shmi could never consent to marrying a man who held her as a slave. Even if he freed her, and she willing chose to stay there for a few years, and then he asked her to marry him. In my head, you can't overcome that power imbalance. Cliegg will never not be a man who once believed Shmi was a thing to be owned. He will never be a man who didn't see her as property. Like, at some point, it actually becomes kind of more and more unlikely that this is a guy who took up this transaction for non-malicious purposes. Because we simply do not see it in the movie. What I see in the movie is a slave owner saying he fell on hard times and sold his slave to a farmer who probably needed help on his land or in his house - he has no wife, so the latter is probably more likely. I see him saying that at the time of the transaction, he had no idea that Cliegg intended to free her. And for all that Cliegg calls Shmi his darling, his love, his wife - not once do we ever hear of any evidence that Shmi saw this as a love match. In fact, the only thing we find out about her daily life with the Lars family is that in the mornings, she wakes up early and goes to pick mushrooms. You know. A task for the house. An unpleasant task, done before everyone else is awake, that she does absolutely alone. I'm just saying. These implications are not good ones. I will say though, for all this, do you know what really sells me on the idea that the relationship between Shmi and Cliegg is is not a consensual one, is Anakin's reaction to it. This is a boy whose entire hopes and dreams have revolved around his mother's freedom. You have more excellent writing than me on this, but the moral injury Anakin suffers leaving his mother behind is. Intense. All he wants is to one day free her. In a way, a part of him is always that tiny boy who couldn't bear the idea of leaving behind his mom, who swore, the last time he saw her, that he would free her. And at this moment, all of his dreams have seemingly come true! His mother is free. According to Watto, she's found love, and married. For all he knows, she's had other children. Maybe that could involve SOME complicated emotions, but mostly you would expect that he would feel, at the very least, relieved. Happy. Interested, curious. Instead, this is his reaction:

He's grim, business like. He is not happy. He is not relieved. He doesn't even seem to acknowledge that she's still alive - the way he reacts is not a man who thinks his mother is out of danger. To Anakin, who grew up enslaved until 9 and knows how this society works, it seems almost immediately apparent that the Lars are just a different kind of danger. There's also this rather interesting detail:

This is a boy who bleeds, every second of every day, longing for a family. He basically begs at obi-wan's feet day and night, to be acknowledged as a son. His reaction to his wife's pregnancy is radiant joy - his reaction to know she could die, profound existential horror. I mean good god, he basically turns Palpatine aka Satan Himself into a father figure, because he's that desperate for one. And here, this man is claiming him as his family. He's talked about being excited to see him. He talks about planning with Shmi to meet him. He calls him "son". And Anakin doesn't give him another moment of his time, the second those words are out of his mouth. It's silence. For a boy who is so starved for intimacy he genuinely falls in love with the very first girl who was ever nice to him, to react to a claim of relationship this way. It's bizarrely out of character for him. Unless it isn't. UNLESS he's disgusted by that claim, instead of relieved by it. If he thinks his mother has been bought and then forced into marriage, of course he hates Cliegg. I remember when we were watching the movie together, and remember I said to you "You can just tell Anakin is thinking, 'Call me son one more fucking time'" And can I be real, I have so much more to say about this. As you know, I actually have essays of opinions and feelings about Shmi Skywalker and her horrible life, and how Anakin was the one bright point she had in that horrible life. I have feelings about how she gave away her only happiness, because she knew he did not deserve the life of a slave. I had ideas about how you could turn this into a way to actually fix AOTC and make it better, a way you could use it as an excuse to get rid of the Tusken arc entirely without losing the tragedy of his mother's death. But this post is already so fucking long and I'm sure you're tired of me talking xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

[ghostlypainterslimeclod]

Michael Schmidt x Male Reader underwear theft dacryphilia and masturbation.

2/2

They be horny

NSFW

For the rest of the day was spent with you doing your normal routine or working from home and chores. Boring ass stuff the closer to the time you got to come over to see mike the harder it was to not get a boner so you decide to shower before you go over. Plus it was the perfect time to rub one out. All you could think about was how hot he was how his tongue felt in your mouth and how good he would look on his knees using him mouth for something other than kissing. After those activities you ate your dinner and walked over to Mike's. When you got there and knocked on the door Abby answered excitedly jabbering about how excited she was to have you over to play and when asked where her brother was she said "with Vanessa" and then continued on as she drug you inside. No clue who this Vanessa chick was but it did kinda irk you that you had to wait to see the messy haired boy. You and Abby settled onto the middle of the floor to draw. You had been over for 20 minutes when you heard the door open and Mike made his way to Abby's room to say bye to us both. Abby said a quick goodbye, compared to yesterday, and then got right back to coloring. You and him share a warm look before he leaves for work.

The day is very similar to yesterday except Abby decided to tell you about her imaginary friends which was kinda concerning but you had imaginary friends as a kid it's normal but the way she talked about them was odd. She also showed you all the pictures she drew while you were gone one with her, her brother, and yourself. It was endearing that was for sure. Once she went to bed you wandered into Mike's room. It's not weird you just want to know how it looks you thought to yourself turning on the lights. It was about as messy as you thought it would be. So you took it upon yourself to gather up his dirty clothes and put them in the laundry lingering a little on his boxers, that you couldn't explain away to yourself, you tucked one into your bag. Yes you're a pervert but it's not like he'll notice you thought.

After your guilty escapades you sat down on his couch and fell asleep like the night before. A few hours pass, it's now morning and Abby is at school, and you wake up to the door unlocking and a pissy Mike ploped down next to you "what happened pretty boy." You asked setting your hand on his thigh. He huffed out "nothing." You gently pressed your shoulder against his "would a kiss make it better?" You asked "mmmm... Yeah." He replied and then leaned in for a kiss, the kiss was quite rough on his side, him climbing into your lap his hands going up to tangle his hands in your hair yours going to grab his hips. Him grinding on your lap trying to get friction on his cock as he whined and moaned into the kiss. you break the kiss "what do you want sweet heart?" All he could muster was to mumble out "please please please touche me y/n please." And who were you to deny him such a request he begged so prettily after all. You unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his dick out of his boxers and then licked your hand for lube and wrapped your hand around him as you continued your kiss. His whimpers grow louder before he breaks the kiss "can we go to my room?" He asks, a string of drool dripping down his chin. You nod releasing him and helping him walk to his room as his legs are like jello once he climbs into his bed it's basically a race for both of you to strip.

He lays in the middle of his bed completely bare, god he looked so pretty pale skin against the gray back ground of his bed the warm morning sun peaking through his blinds illuminating parts of his skin. You climb onto the bed pressing him into the mattress as you look into his pretty eyes that seemed to consume you "how do you want to do this love?" You asked "I-I don't know I've never been with a guy like this before." He replied "well do you have lube?" You ask, he nods and wiggles to his drawer pulling out a bottle of lube and then wiggles back into his spot on the bed. You uncap the lid and pour some onto your fingers before pushing one into his hole gently while your other hand occupies itself with his dick, your own cock sadly leaking onto the mattress as much as it hurts to leave it you had to make sure to properly prep him if this was his first time. His gasps and whines were adorable and sooo worth it. His eyebrows furrowed his eyes screwed shut as little tears were in the corner of his eyes mouth luled open as you slowly stretched him out. First one finger then a second then a third you had to take small breaks so he didn't cum before you were inside, but finally it was time for the main event. You pulled your fingers out drawing a whine from the mess of a boy under you. You gently kiss him as you put lube on your cock before pressing into his hole. God it was good and you made sure to let him know it "you're so fucking good" you said pushing all the was into him. At this point he's not even fucking here his brain is fully in the clouds as little tears run down his face and slober is dripping out of his mouth and all he can say is a mix of please, yes, and your name as he clings to you his stubble scratching your neck and nails digging into yours back as he chants "please can I cum please." In between broken moans. "Of course baby." You say holding his cock in your hand and whispering how good he's doing, and finally he finished with a loud gaspy moan. You kept pistonning your hips into him chasing your own release him whining and crying "god you sound so pretty." You groaned into his ears his short hair tickling your cheek. Then finally you push your cock as deep as possible and finish with a huff. Then you both lay there basking in the after glow clinging to each other as you both fall asleep.

[nvmadic]

i saw an instagram reel about this and IM REELING THINKING ABOUT IT WITH BEST FRIEND TED.

– you're in high school and it's right after the first time you were really hurt by a guy you'd liked since forever. the boy had tried to take your first kiss without asking and then called you something mean for pulling away and telling him no. so of course, you'd ran to your best friend about it because he was the only person you could trust to tell about it, and he makes you a promise.

”you know y/n, if nothing happens for you or me by the time we're eighteen, you can have all my firsts.” you blink at him a moment and laugh, ”what? all of them?” his eyes never leave yours. ”all of them. i trust you with them.”

then your eighteenth birthday rolls around and ted comes to find you towards the end of the party. ”well you're eighteen. i'm eighteen. remind me, have you given away your first kiss yet?” he smiles, placing his cup of water down on the counter. you blush almost sheepishly, you knew what he was referring to because it hadn't left your mind once since he first said it. ”no teddy, i haven't.” now his smile turns into a smirk and he offers his hand out to you.

without thinking, you place your hand in his and he pulls you closer, moving your hand over his shoulder which moves your chest flush against his. he leans in, but not close enough to be within kissing distance. ”y/n, would you let me take your first of firsts if i give you my first of firsts?” you slowly nod and let your eyes flutter shut as he presses his lips against yours.

the next year on your nineteenth birthday, it's just a small get together with friends, but just like last time, he waits until the party is almost over to say anything. ”y/n, would you let me take your second of firsts if i give you my second of firsts?” despite knowing what he's referring to, you have no clue what he's talking about, at least until everyone is shuffling out of your apartment except for him. with a smile, he walks you slowly back to the sofa and presses his lips against yours, hand moving down to your thigh. for awhile, you just move around the sofa, kissing each other and groping around your legs and his shoulder before he pulls away, leaving you confused.

on your twentieth birthday, you almost forget about the question because you went out for a birthday dinner. but as per his new routine, he waited until you were alone in your apartment to ask you the question. ”y/n, would you let me take your third of firsts if i give you my third of firsts?” the question itself makes you a little hazy because now there's no doubt about what's happening and you nod at him the same way you did two years prior. ”this time sweetheart,” the nickname is new it rolls off his tongue perfectly and it makes you blush, ”i need you to give me a clear yes.” swallowing hard, you whisper out, ”yes teddy.”

he takes his time, getting your shirts off and getting back into your bedroom. kissing you and getting your riled up by letting his hands float over where you need him most. discarding the rest of your clothes and reminding you to tell him to stop if it gets to be too much. sliding the condom on and taking his sweet time opening you up with his fingers. there was even a time you could've sworn you heard him mutter ”m'so glad it's you..” under his breath, but you couldn't be sure with how dizzy you were on his cock.

on your twenty-first birthday, you're out with a group of friends at a bar. ted knew drinking might be the only first you would share with a group and he was fine with it, mumbling in your ear, ”congratulations on your fourth first sweetheart.”

by the time your twenty-second birthday rolled around, ted had acquired a new friend, schlatt, who was happy to provide him with another first you could have.

as per routine, everyone left and it was just the two of you. ”y/n, honey,” god you were going to die if he kept using those stupid petnames. ”would you let me take your fifth of firsts if i give you my fifth of firsts?” you tilted your head at him. ”well uhm, what is it?” from his jacket he pulled out a plastic bag and after about ten seconds of staring, you realised what it was. ”ted, is that even legal?” you'd asked, although you didn't really care, you were just nervous. he laughed, ”in this state, yes.”

before you knew it, you were sitting on your couch with him again. the same couch you'd had your first makeout session with, the same couch your shirts had been discarded on before you lost your virginity, and now the same couch you were getting ready to smoke on. and while ted messed with the wrapper, you realised it had all been with the same guy, and no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself you'd only ever be best friends, the last few years had proved otherwise. as ted lifted the rolled cannabis up to your lips, you realised that this was something you didn't want to end after all of your firsts were gone.

THAT ENDED UP BEING WAYYY LONGER THAN I MEANT IT TO BE BUT WHATEVER. (might have to make it a fic now who knows)

saint? hello? to just casually drop this in my inbox and to bless me yet again? please kiss me you gorgeous human being. this is so cute i want this tattooed on the inside of my eyelids so i can read it whilst i sleep.

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

Sleep Little Angel, Sleep

Pairings: Castiel x Winchester!teen!reader

Imagine: you can’t sleep but Castiel is there to help

Warnings: angst?, sleep deprivation, mention of depression, mention of possession by a demon (not really), I think there’s one mention of the f-word, idk what else, mention of y/n if that’s a warning I have no clue if I’m honest

A/N just a short comfort fic for all you sleep deprived supernatural fans out there *cough* me *cough*, writing this actually helped me sleep so + to that I guess, bc this is kinda how it have been for me lately except I don’t have a Castiel to help me sleep. Which is why I haven’t posted/written anything in a while :) anyway hope you guys like it bc idk really and I hope you all have a good sleep tonight <3

As usual I put it down as teen reader but the reader can be older and Cas might be a bit OOC

You layed in bed, staring up at the ceiling, but at the same time nothing in particular. The sound of silence filled your ears and the occasional cars that drove past outside the window was a refreshing sound. Your tired eyes dropped but you couldn’t in any way sleep. It was for some unknown reason impossible.

For once your head was empty of thoughts. Nothing ran through your head. You didn’t have the constant race between hundreds of thoughts competing to be heard the most. Everything was silent.

The other people in the bunker were quiet, not even a sound from your brothers was heard, and they often stayed up longer than you did. It was too quiet. The cars only came one by one each hour or so in the unhealthy times of the night.

Sometimes you thought you were possessed by some demon making you feel this way, but you were pretty sure a demon possessing you would be more fun than the boredom of the night was giving you.

The tiredness that went through your whole body did nothing to help. You were exhausted, but still you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. It wasn’t intentional, you’d tried to sleep many times, but nothing seemed to ever work. So instead you continued to stare up at your sealing, there wasn’t much else to do at this time anyway.

It took another three hours, before you completely gave up. Turning on your side you checked the watch. Two in the morning. You didn’t entirely know how you could function by now, you hadn’t slept in three days, except for the one nap you accidentally took in the car while Dean drove to the store to pick up some pie if you remembered correctly. But that was days ago, maybe it had been more than three days ago, you didn’t quite know. The only thing you knew was that you were bored to death, sleep deprived and probably in one of your depressive episodes. But you could never be sure about the depression, it always lingered around the corner waiting to strike you down.

You wanted to go up and maybe take a night snack but it would wake your brothers up and you knew it wouldn’t help either. So you stayed in your laying position, still staring at the apparently interesting sealing. You noticed some new shapes that you swore hadn’t been there before, but maybe you notice more things the more you watch something. It was like when you watched a movie for the hundredth time and noticed something new. Except it would be more exciting to watch a movie than your sealing.

A few hours later, or maybe it was just a few minutes a flapping of wings was heard. Your eyes were still unmovable from tracing every dent and dusted corners of your sealing. It was most probably an angel who’d appeared in your room, and you couldn’t care less of who, if you were honest, maybe you could get an excuse to get up and do something exciting. However it turned out to be your favorite angel.

“Y/N, you need to sleep” Castiel’s voice rang out making you look at him, it was strange to hear something break the silence. Your irritated eyes were a bit glossy from not sleeping and Castiel noticed that the dark bags under your eyes were more prominent than ever. He and your brothers knew of your problem with sleeping but it seemed you never tried to get help from them, or to even get some of those sleeping pills. You’d always shrug it off saying you were fine, that you weren’t tired, or for those occasional days you told them you were tired they’d make sure you slept in the car, but those rarely happened anymore. Castiel had sensed your tiredness, and when he’d have to save you from a vampire he knew he needed to help you, but you had shut him out. The angel didn’t want to force you to sleep but if that was what it took to make sure you were sleeping and taking care of yourself he would.

“I know Cas, I just, I can’t” you paused before your voice cracked a bit at your next words “I’m so fucking tired Cas, I, I don’t know what to do”

Castiel walked closer to your bed until he was right next to it. A bit uncharacteristically of him he bent down and tilted his head while he took in your appearance from a closer view. “Let me help you” his blue eyes stared into yours and you closed your eyes for a second, which caused a new wave of tiredness to crash through you.

“Will you stay here” why you asked you weren’t quite sure, but you did anyway and got a nod from your favorite angel. You knew what he meant by helping you. You’d seen him do it to Dean a lot of times, but you had never brought yourself to ask Cas to do it on you. It felt strange and wrong, but at the moment you didn’t care, you were too exhausted. Sleep would be your only release and nothing in you seemed to be willing to give it to you. Maybe that’s why you wanted him to stay, so that he could protect you when you were in a deep sleep that you wouldn’t wake up from in a while. So that he could wake you if anything went wrong.

“I will stay, I promise, I’ll be right beside you when you wake up” with that you gave him a nod and he gently put two of his fingers on your forehead. It didn’t take long for sleep to take over you. Exhaustion and tiredness took over your whole being in one sweep and your eyes closed. You could finally get your release from the life you lived. You could finally rest for a while, You would for once not be exhausted when you woke up.

However before you fell asleep you heard Castiel softly murmur in a whisper “Sleep little angel for nothing will come your way tonight, sleep and dream of sweet dreams”

True to his word Castiel stayed by your side, he made sure no nightmares came your way, and you slept peacefully for the first time in a while. You slept for the first time in a while, and Cas woved he wouldn’t let it go further than this again. He would protect his baby angel if it so was the last thing he did, and to make sure you slept was only one part of it.

[an0nfr0mth3d3n]

Ever heard the ‘Foolish and Bad are divorced’ theory? Here’s totally what happened.

Bad probably lost one of his lovers, and it happened to coincide with Foolish losing one of his lovers, and usually what happens is they seek each other out and cry about it (well Bad cries, Foolish makes a bunch of really sad and deprecating jokes because humor is his coping mechanism).

Well when the coincidence happens, they both end up finding each other and just, venting about mortals and how immortality sucks sometimes, until Bad is like, “gosh darn it Foolish I can’t go through this again. Can you just marry me so we can find love together and not get love-trapped by stupid mortals again?”

(I’m aware the words are out of character but if it was in character the amount of dodging and implying would take up several paragraphs and I’m not doing that)

And Foolish laughs and is like “Aaa fuck it. Might as well try I guess, your stupid ass is the only one who doesn’t leave anyways”

It’s very unofficial, they don’t go to a church or anything, and their rings are just mismatched random rings that Bad stole, but they both have weird and mixed feelings about this.

Bad says he’s sure they’ll love each other eventually (I hc him as demiromantic because it’s on the spectrum and because also that’s me too so yippee)

It takes a day or too before Foolish can’t take it any longer. Not only is it too soon, but when he takes a step back from his grief and actually imagines being in a somewhat romantic relationship with Bad, he wants to puke and roll over and die somehow. Also probably had something to do with the fact that Bad started moving in to his current build project and setting up space there and usually it’s not a promising sign for a marriage if you started the day after absolutely strangling your partner.

Bad also realizes this too. The thought of a traditional marriage at ALL has never sounded appealing. He isn’t one to get domestic with it, and despite trying to set up a home with Foolish sounds unappealing (noooo had nothing to do with the current bruises on his neck right now…) Bad lived for adventure, and liked solitude once in a while, and marriage was just a tether that promised no benefits except for tax purposes and he already evades taxes anyways.

They both fight each other to be the once that divorces the other, and they start by making this EVERYONES problem. They never had a traditional wedding, but they DID go to an official divorce court, making it a point to hire the best talent with divorce lawyers out there. Not that there was much to go on, they were only married for a handful of days, and it wasn’t even official so the lawyers have no clue what to do. They go with it anyways because it’s a totem shark and a demon and they are already beating the shit out of each other in the middle of the court, and the lawyers did NOT want to get in the middle of that.

Bad of course tries to weasel his way into getting 50% of Foolish’s build, and Foolish gets impatient with the court and just attacks Bad himself, fed up at the consistent attempts to steal his build.

They both roll around on the ground, biting, kicking, punching, and both of them are smiling through it. They can lean on each other when times get tough, but Landduo will NEVER stoop to petty human traditions ever again.

(whoops this turned into a mini hc fic)

[gunilslaugh]

How would they react to their so being from a different country and speaking their native language around them for the first time

Thank you for requesting!

All members ˜• o •˜

Summary: Speaking your native language in front of Xdinary Heroes for the first time.

WC:807

Warning:none

photo not mine credits to owner.

Gunil

If you’re from an English speaking country then Gunil still has you covered. If you’re from another English speaking country that isn’t America he would definitely try to mimic your accent and he wants to learn any word differences/slang used in your country.

The first time that he hears you speak your native language he is a bit shocked because he wasn’t expecting it. He happened to walk into the room while you were on the phone with someone and heard you speaking in your native tongue.

“What was that?” he chuckled lightly. 

“Oh I was just talking to my mom,” you explained.

“This is the first time I heard you speak in your native language. Your tone of voice sounded so different,” he stated amused. 

“Ah that’s right. You never heard me speak in my mother language.” From then Gunil insists you teach him some of your language. He wants to at least be able to speak a couple of phrases of it with you.

Jungsu

The first time Jungsu heard you speak in your native language was after you had just woken up from a nap. You had asked him to hand you your phone, except with still being sleepy you asked in your native language. 

“You know I would like to do whatever you just asked, but I have no clue what you said,” he tells you. 

“Oh,” you chuckled. “ I asked for you to hand me my phone,” you translated. 

“Here you go.” He passes you your phone. “Can you repeat what you said?” he requests.��

“About handing me my phone?” Jungsu nodded. You repeat what you said before and Jungsu tries to repeat it. His pronunciation is a little off, but his determination is adorable. 

Gaon/Jiseok

Frustration filled your body and a slew of words in your native language spilled from your mouth. Jiseok turns his head from where he sat next to you, looking at you with wide eyes. 

“I don’t know what you just said, but it sounded scary,” he noted. This causes you to laugh, successfully elevating some of your frustration. 

“They weren’t the nicest words,” you admitted. 

“Teach me!” Jiseok adamantly asked. Making you laugh again, but then you spend the next ten minutes teaching him some of the  not so nice words in your language. After that Jiseok becomes pretty determined to learn some of your native language. He wants to be able to tell you “Good morning”, “Goodnight” and “I love you” at the very least.

O.de/Seungmin

The first time Seungmin heard you speak your native language was when the two of you were on a date together and one of your friends from back home called you. Seungmin instantly became intrigued and almost lost in your voice as he listened to you talk to your friend. Once you hang up you notice Seungmin staring at you with a dopey smile. 

“What?” you questioned, snapping him back.

“I like hearing you talk in your native language,” he answered. 

“Even if you don’t know what I’m saying?” you said playfully. 

“Yes, even if I don’t know what you’re saying. I just like listening to you talk. It’s soothing,” he explained. He tries (and fails) to say something in your language.

Junhan/Hyeongjun

Hyeongjun was awoken in the middle of the night by you muttering something in your sleep. He leaned closer to you to try and listen to what you were saying. Only to discover that you were muttering in your native language. He asks you about it the next morning. 

“Y/n what does-” he tries his best to repeat what he heard you muttering in your sleep. “-mean?”

You had to ask him to repeat it a couple of times until you could decipher what he was trying to say.

“It means stop trying to take my balloon,” you laughed. “Where did you hear that?” 

“You were muttering it in your sleep last night,” he tells you. Wants to learn your language to know what other nonsense you mutter in your sleep.

Jooyeon

It was late at night and you were very sleepy to say the least, but Jooyeon insisted on you two watching the final episodes of a show you were watching together. This resulted in your sleepy brain defaulting to using your native language when you spoke. 

“You’re speaking gibberish now?” Jooyeon remarked in a playful tone. It took him a second before he realized that it was your native language that just came out of your mouth. 

“No, I asked how much time is left,” you clarified. 

“Ten minutes. Then we can go to bed sleepyhead. How do you say sleepyhead in your language?” he prompted. You tried to think, but couldn’t remember if there was such a term in your language. 

“I don’t know,” you chuckled.

[temporaryrose200]

hi hi could i request headcanons of william moriarty with an s/o who is a vampire please? (reader can be gender neutral or female, u can decide :)) btw for some details, sunlight cant hurt reader and they have to drink human blood only once a month

take ur time and thank uu :)

(feel free to decline this request if u want btw)

✟pairing: William James Moriarty x GN Vampire Reader

✟genre: Fluff

✟warning: mention of blood, mention of murder and not proof read

✟headcanon

✟fandom: Moriarty The Patriot

✟a/n:So making this was kinda hard. It took me two times for me to finally finish. Though it was fun to write. Anyway thank you for requesting this and I hope you enjoy<3

➳William met you at a ball. William noticed how men would flock to you and if he was being honest he could see why. You were very much attractive. He too was quite drawn to you. Something about you thought seemed off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Was it your cat like eyes, that would follow nobles around the room like they were your prey, or was it your deathly complexion. Whatever it was, William was going to find out. Approaching you, William bowed before introduce himself. Crimson eyes scanned you up and down, searching for clues to point that something was amiss, but nothing! It wasn’t until you opened your mouth. Fangs! Razor sharp teeth. That’s when it clicked, you were a vampire. A fictional creature of the night, that sucks blood from humans. Well, they aren’t fictional anymore.

➳William leaned quite of lot about you at and after the party. Your name, you had just moved from America, strangely you had no family, it was just you alone in this horrible world. There was so much information, except he couldn’t find anything about your past. Leading him to speculate more that you were a vampire. Though there was one thing that didn’t make sense. The sun. William had seen you many times walking around in the sun. Sun was meant to burn vampire right?

➳He finally got his answer when William was going on a stroll around town, when he heard some rustling noise from the alleyway. Following the noise, he snuck down the dark and damp street and he found you in the process of sucking a noble man’s blood. “Well I guess I was right.” As soon as you heard William’s voice you pulling away letting the unconscious man fall to the floor(Not Dead..) You tried explaining that this wasn’t what it looked like, spouting out a bunch of excuses. Obviously William didn’t believe in anything you were saying. You had blood running down your chin, you would need be an idiot to believe the excuses you were making. He would stop you halfway through and explains to you that he wasn’t going to tell. That was never his plan. Really it just interested him that perhaps vampires and other creatures like you exist.

➳As payment for keeping this secret, you would answer any question that the blonde handsome man had. And William had dozens, that at one point during your conversation, William invited you over to his house to have some tea. You told William how vampire can’t go in the sun was a myth and that you only need blood once a month.

𝄞

“The man you saw before isn’t dead, by the way!” “I just hypnotised him”

“Oh don’t worry Miss Y/N”

“Oh thank-“

“He was going to die anyway.”

“WAIT WHAT-“

𝄞

➳The stake to the heart and the mirror thing was very much true. Oh and garlic, which surprised William. So the sun can’t kill you but garlic bread can…?

➳Now let’s get to the relationship. William would most definitely give you his blood. Every single month, the same day the same time, William makes sure you get your blood. And by some chance William can’t do that, he’ll pull some strings and you’ll find a bag of blood in your hands in less than an hour.

➳William’s brothers didn’t like you at first. Well, actually Albert loved you. He thought you were the sweetest person ever. Albert tells you that you’re more human than actually humans! Louis though was suspicious of you, at the start of your rep with William, Louis always kept a wooden dagger nearby. At one point he even put garlic into your food. Only a little bit, not enough to kill you, but it did burn your throat. Louis slowly stopped becoming wary of you. He was beginning to grow a small friendship with you after leaning even after the way he treated you, you still dotted on him. Louis is now a huge Y/N supporter. And if anyone even tries to hurt a single hair on you, they will suffer a slow and painful death…

[ferallair]

The Minisodes are a Mirror

I've been thinking about the minisodes and how they are a mirror for the three part story we're currently in the middle of and I just wanted to collect my thoughts a bit.

#1 - The Clue/A Companion to Owls

This is a mirror for season 1. Crowley and Aziraphale joining together to defy Heaven and Hell to save humanity. There are a ton of interesting things happening in this episode. Aziraphale trusts Crowley not to destroy the children. Aziraphale eating that entire cow. It's insane, the gluttony of it. It means something about him and his connection to earthly things. They even use the ribs (that he licked clean btw) for their little ruse against the angels. For some reason it brings to mind the body swap in season 1. Aziraphale learns to possess a human(something he's probably not supposed to do, like eating) and use that new skill to fool Heaven and Hell. But the most important in this sitting together at the end.

So sad.

They're sitting on a nice rock that looks like a bench, as far apart from each other as they can get. It's a reflection of where they were in season 1: together but apart. An angel and a demon who go along with their side but only as much as they want. Not and Us yet (which they still aren't).

A few other questions I had:

Turning the goats to crows, why? Crowley has a crow statue on his desk in season one. Connected? A memento of that time?

Aziraphale says he is on "Gods" side. Is that a nice little side step that allows him to defy other angels but still be "the good one?" Or a foreshadowing of what's to come next season?

Crowley says the wine is from a "promising little vineyard" Châteauneuf-du-Pape perhaps?

All the angels and demons assume you can cause humans to fall in love with miracles, but Aziraphale KNOWS you can't. I wonder about that story.

#2 - I Know Where I'm Going/The Resurrectionist

This minisode is a mirror for the current season. It starts with Crowley and Aziraphale puzzling over a half naked Gabriel only to be distracted by a lesbian couple and basically ruin their lives by trying to help.

Look at that thigh.

Sure, Azripahle gives Elspeth a bunch of money, but we never find out what really happens to her. Not yet anyway. The more important part is the argument about doing wicked or immoral things for the greater good. The reuse of the name Dalrymple is interesting because it's a call back to The Thundergun of Witchfinder Colonel Dalrymple aka the gun Aziraphale tries to shoot Adam with. And it foreshadows the end of the season with Aziraphale leaving Crowley and going to heaven (something everyone on the internet is SCREAMING is wrong, including me!!) because he thinks he can do something good by it. But is it wrong? I guess we'll find out.

Some interesting things:

More foreshadowing? Is God gone? There is a conspicuous absence of the voice of God in this season, except for her half heard diatribe to Job. If she's around, is she only talking to humans?

Michael's Prophecy:

"There will come a tempest, and darkness and great storms. And the dead will leave their graves and walk the earth once more. And there will be great lamentations. (Everyday it’s getting closer)"

It's definitely foreshadowing the next episode, which is full of darkness and explosions and clouds and fog. But I think it's also a prophecy of what's to come in season 3. Just like:

#3 - The Hitchhiker/Nazi Zombie Flesheaters

I think this minisode is just one big foreshadow for season 3 and that's why it doesn't make a lot of sense yet. So, let's look at where the furniture isn't and see if we can guess some things? Feel free to play along at home.

But first can we look at the titles of these three episodes:

The Clue - A Companion to Owls. Is the clue the companion to owls? Job? Or is the clue in the meaning of owls: wisdom and sorrow? The Clue in the framing story is the song "Everyday" and a quote "I remember when the Morning Stars sang together, and all the Angels of God shouted for joy." The sorrow of owls is their song, the sound they make represents lamenting, so music might be important next season. (Didn't King David have something to do with music? Or is that just a song I know?) Crows are enemies of Owls and Crowley has a thing for Crows, the statue, the goats, the book he gives Muriel.

I Know Where I'm Going - The Resurrectionist. I know where I'm going can mean "I know what I'm doing" (trust me) or "I know what direction I'm going in" and that direction is to to Resurrectionist! It's literally what happens in this epsiode: everyone goes to the Resurrectionist in the past AND the present. Or maybe it's a metaphor for death, a place everyone (human) goes. Or maybe The Resurrectionist, who represents the Metatron, the moral quandary of doing bad things for good reasons, represents NOT listening to God or yourself (and thinking you know what you're doing), but falling for the lies of people who claim to be doing good when they're actually not. There is also the Ressurectionist as metaphor for rising from the dead and there is a lot of hints about coming back from the dead this season: Lazarus as a unit of measure, the word Ressurectionist, literal zombies, talk of a second coming, probably more stuff I can't remember.

The Hitchhiker - Nazi Zombie Flesheaters. So “The Hitchhiker” is a short radio play by screenwriter Lucille Fletcher. It was first presented in 1941 on the Orson Welles Show and was later made into and episode of the Twilight Zone. It's also the name of a horror anthology TV show from the 80's, which is fitting for this episode, because it feels like an episode of the Twilight Zone or a horror anthology story. Mostly because of the literal Nazi Zombie Flesheaters and a good dose of "be careful what you wish for" moralizing.

So what can this episode tell us about next season? I have a couple of thoughts:

We have the idea of human magic. These zombies aren't just anyone, they are occultist Nazi's that were meeting with Aziraphale in season 1 to buy books of prophecy. They particularly wanted the Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, reminding us that some kind of real human magic exists, and that these Nazi's know about it (and they are now undead Zombies roaming the earth). There is also the mention of Free Masons, a secret organization that may or may not be into the occult. I suspect we'll see some kind of human occult/magic in season 3. Which make's sense with the second coming because by some accounts Jesus was an occult magician in his day.

We also have human magic. The regular stage kind. Here it is used as a kind of trust fall for Aziraphale and Crowley.

So sweet.

I suspect the boys will be placed in a situation where they will have to trust each other or die. Maybe there will even be a lose of power like this time. But they will definitely have to trick someone using mundane means. All three minisodes are about tricks (and arguably the whole season), the three ribs turning into the children, the melting the corpse and stealing the laudanum, the whole magic show episode. There will be a tricks, illusions, making things seem like they aren't. If there isn't I might be sad.