#getting the fuck out of this state canNOT happen soon enough. i swear to god

[scattered-winter]

anyone else up feeling utterly overwhelmed or nah

[barbarianbookhoe]

I swear I'm never gonna find the love I know I right-fucking-fully deserve

I just rewatched Bridgerton season 3 for the 3rd time already, and MY GOD, if a man does not yearn for me like a Bridgerton man😩

Request: Kaz Brekker x drunk (fem) reader (this is a long fcking one)

Too Sweet

TW: fluff, mention of assault

"And then, THEN he said I am just as useful as a rock. A damn rock!," she scoffed as she swayed in her seat. "Rocks can bee useful," she mumbled, "you can throw 'em at people. Like me! I can be thron at people," she hiccuped once before pointing at her glass for the bartender to re-fill.

The guy just shook his head at her and told her to stop shouting at costumers, or find someplace else. Apparently, she's been a lot friendlier than she thought.

She dropped some kruge on the counter, not having enough common sense left to count if it was even enough.

"But his eeeyes while he looked at me, oh Saints, his eyes are so beautifuuul, and sooo blue, they make me swoooon," Y/N told a waitress, who just laughed at the lovesick girl, who's been talking about a boy for the past 10 minutes.

"Oh honey, you have such a soft spot for that boy!" She laughed, and Y/N just nodded. "Yeah, and-and you should see his cheeks and ears, that when he gets flustred, no, flusterred, uh, flus-tered, yes, they turn red but he hides it, and no one sees, but I see it, because he has such a preeeetty face," she tells her on a high pitched voice, and even rests her head on her arms and lets out a sigh.

Y/N talking about her love life being the only thing actually happening in the small bar, the waitress sats down in front of her after getting out a round of drinks. The two women began their discussion about the boy, and the way Y/N cannot stop smiling while talking about him makes the waitress smile herself.

The sound of a cane tapping on the floor makes the lady turn around, only to find the Bastard of the Barrel himself staring right at her. No, not at her, but the girl on the other side of the table. She gets up and with a quick goodbye slips out of her seat, to make her way to the other side of the place.

Kaz Brekker, as if he had all the time in the world, slowly walked over to his Crow, who was supposed to be in the Club with their group hours ago.

He'd only been trailing her for an hour or two, but in that time she already went through 3 bars. Not counting the one, or ones, where he wasn't present. And without paying. Kaz made sure she wouldn't be in debt by the next morning. As he looked at her drunken state, he began questioning his own plan to get her home as soon as possible.

"Jeeesss!" Y/N looked up at him giddily, practically dragging her words out. "Come 'ere you silly," she signaled for him to sit down, to which Kaz just rolled his eyes. She must've drank quite a lot if she thought him to be the sharpshooter. "Why you in black?" She shook her head as if getting rid of her question and looked at him giddily yet again.

Kaz couldn't shake the bittersweet feeling that slowly made its way into his well-guarded heart. The feeling that she looked the happiest in that moment, drowned in alcohol, probably on the edge of alcohol poisoning, and staring at him with such joy Kaz rarely saw anymore on her, even less in his life. It was clear to him that she was going through something, he just didn't know what it was.

If he had any talent for it he would've drawn her right in that moment, to capture her smile, the shine of her eyes, to keep her this happy at least on paper, to keep her smiling.

"Alright, get up. You're going home," Kaz sternly told her to which she just scoffed. "Ah, but Jesper we have so much to talk aboouuuut," she whined as he took a step closer. "This wasn't a question. You. Are. Going. Home."

"Alrigh', alrigh'," Y/N mumbled to herself as she tried to steady herself enough before attempting to walk on her own. After a few seconds of failing to do so, she quickly straightened her back and began her uncoordinated, swaying march for the door. Kaz was just two steps behind her, and when they got out on the street, he took half a step closer as he stepped next to her.

"Am I late for that meeting? Nahh," She mumbled loud enough for Kaz to hear. "It don' matter. What do I do?" She turned her head to Kaz for a split second before loudly continuing. "I'm talking Jespeeerr!" Kaz quickly shushed her, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to them.

"Don't ssssshhh me, Kaz sssssh-ushes me, not you!" She said and had it not been for Kaz, she would've tripped in her own foot. "I feel like he doesn't like me anymore," she said then, but Kaz just kept quiet, waiting for her to continue. "I want to tell him to shut up for once, to give 'im my opinion," she began gesturing before herself, as if she wasn't even talking to him anymore, more to herself.

"I feel like... punching him, givin' 'im a piece of mind. Yah, let'ss do that!" She quickly turned around, probably to find Kaz who was standing next to her, but Kaz caught her elbow and stood her in front of him. "You won't do that, alright? You're going home to sleep, and if you still feel like it, you'll give him a punch tomorrow."

"But whyyy? He's always up at night, and that'ss when we taaalk. I can't tell 'im during the dayy!" Her words began to slur again and she was swaying, so Kaz took it as a sign, that she was still in fact really drunk. He didn't let go of her elbow as he guided themselves towards her little flat near Fifth Harbor. It was more like one big room rather than a flat, but she didn't spend that much time there to care about it.

"And why can't you? Is there an unkown force keeping you from it?" He told her while he fought the nausea slowly coming up his throat. They'll be there in a few minutes, he reminded himself. "Jess, why are you the one asking? You're always telling me to lissen to my heart, to not overthink, to just say it. You're not Jesper, that's why!" She said more to herself than Kaz.

"Say what?" Kaz turned to Y/N for a few seconds, trying to see her face to determine what she was feeling. He found himself as curious when he was just a small boy, watching the magicians on the streets of Ketterdam. He watched every little detail of her face, from the flatter of her eyelashes to the unnoticeable tremble of her lips, trying to guess what she was going to say.

"Again with the questionss," she mumbled and right after spoke up on a sad tone, her vice slightly trembling, almost as if she was holding back from crying. "You sound like my landlord. Saints, I hate 'im. He's always angry a-and yelling, and soooo tall, taller than Matthias," she said and Kaz noticed the barely noticeable crack in her voice, making him worry about what more she had to say.

"I mean, I fought 'im twice yesterday, you know, 'cause he was demanding the rent I already payed, givin' me a great punch to my ribs, but like, you know, I'm a fighter, I can take 'im any day, but I mean, he's sooo tall and, and I was tired, so you know I didn't have too much "fight" in me." Y/N rambled, probably unaware of admitting that she was assaulted and making it seem less serious than it was, but still, it made Kaz's vision fog up with red.

How did he not know? How could he let this happen under his watch? Why didn't he felt the need to investigate her place, like he first intended to?

She was still rambling about her landlord and their multiple fights, yes, multiple Kaz realized, getting angrier by the second, when she stumbled and Kaz had to yank her up before she fell on the hard ground.

Without a second thought, or any thought at all, Kaz put her arm around his shoulder and carefully slipped his other arm around her waist to keep her somewhat standing. They were just a block away from her place, but Y/N seemed to cling to Kaz, her legs barely functioning at this point, and Kaz had to lean themselves against an old brick building before they both collapsed.

He also had to take a breather from all the touching, not being used to touching her for this long. Yes, they've stitched up each other countless times, sometimes even caring enough to change each other's bandages. But that never lasted longer than half a minute, or one, which was the limit for Kaz.

As soon as he calmed down, he felt warm fingers touching his face.

He froze in his spot and he had to close his eyes and concentrate on his breathing if he didn't want to start panicking. A minute passed by, and the hands still didn't leave his face, but they began to explore his every feature. It started at his cheeks then to his jaw, his forehead, the hand smoothed over his eyes so carefully as if he was made from glass, then the fingers stopped at his lips. He didn't even know he was forcefully keeping them in a thin line until the warm touch made them slightly part.

When Kaz opened his eyes he felt his heart stop and melt all at once, he felt it cease to beat only to then began pumping his blood with so much force he felt as if his heart was trying to fire up his veins.

Y/N was looking at him with a longing gaze, as if this was her last, yet the first time seeing him. As if he was something worth looking at.

She kept looking at him even though Kaz swore his heart was about to burst into a mess of blood and flames. Her fingers lingered on his lips as her other hand came up to softly caress the side of his face, touching a strand of hair. As if she wasn't able to stop touching him. Kaz felt his lips part even more than before, and his breath got stuck in his throat at her touch. He kept his eyes on her as he felt the need to close them for just one second. He felt his heart throb too fast for his liking, feeling his head getting dizzier by the second.

He was sure he was about to faint.

When her thumb caressed his lips for one second, just one second, she moved both of her hands to the side of his face ever so gently, and Kaz felt his knees tremble under her gaze. They never once broke the eye contact, which made the moment feel even more intimate. The way she was looking at Kaz, the way her eyes reflected the dim light next to them on the street made her eyes sparkle in the moonlight, and Kaz felt himself quietly gasp for air.

Kaz Brekker gasped for air, mesmerized by the sight of her.

He was trying to figure out the emotion behind the look she was giving him all night, when she mentioned him or his name, when she realized he wasn't Jesper, when she took his face in her hands, as she caressed him with such tenderness, as if one wrong touch could shatter him like the finest porcelain.

But when she moved her thumb back to his lips again, slightly caressing it without even noticing, Kaz finally dared to speak up.

"What are you-," He couldn't finish the words he was whispering, because Y/N put his handkerchief between their faces, holding it onto Kaz's lips, as if she was about to...was she? Was she about to...kiss him? Kaz felt like fainting again.

When she spoke up, the drunk look was somewhat gone from her eyes, and bittersweetness took over. "My imagination is wicked, but this might be the cruelest thing it ever did to me, making me see you as if you were real, as if you were here." She whispered it so gently that Kaz had to take a second to grasp what she was saying. "I'm here Y/N, I've been here all night." He said, but she just sadly shook her head.

"You're another hallucination, dream-Kaz, because I can never kiss you in the real world. And even in my dreams, I can't do it without respecting you first," she whispered, smoothing the handkerchief over his lips.

Kaz couldn't pin-point when did his heart pumping began too loud for him to hear, or when did he forget to breathe, but what he knew exactly, was the fact that these all made his thoughts cease to exist. Except one.

"You...dream about me? Above all people you could have choosen, you chose me to dream about?" He asked breathlessly, not believing how small his own voice sounded. Still, tears began welling up in Y/N's eyes, which she tried to keep at bay, but a single drop escaped and she let it stream down her face as she spoke up.

"You're... everywhere, all the time, and I can't escape you from my imagination, sometimes even preferring to hallucinate because that's where I know I'll find you, where I'm brave enough to-to say 'I love you' to your face, without having to deal with your rejection, because I-" As she glanced away from him trying to blink away her tears, Kaz gently took the handkerchief away from his lips and instead held her hand which put the handkerchief on him.

Kaz finally realized how she looked at him. If their racing hearts, her shallow breath, the tremble of her voice wasn't enough clue, than her touch certainly was. Throughout her speech her hands were still on his face, unmoving, not daring to move, instead keeping them there in a tender touch. She was in-

"I'm irrevocably, unconditionally, and fatally in love with you Kaz Brekker."

Sharp breaths and worried looks.

Unnoticeable steps and reassuring nods.

A trembling exhale.

One quick step, and Kaz was kissing her.

Their lips colliding against one another like the sun sets on the dark sea, like the moon takes the sun's place, like fireworks lighting up the sky. Her lips a mix of cheap alcohol and something sweet, his the scent of coffee and something salty. Her shyness, afraid of hurting him, clashing with his yearning movements, all of a sudden forgetting everything that wasn't her. His hand found its way onto the back of her neck, while the other gently touched the side of her face, just as she did mere seconds ago.

Kaz couldn't begin to think about his aversion, nor his nausea, because he was surrounded by her. Her scent, her lips, her hands on his face, her gasp in the kiss. He kissed her as if she was the air he was breathing, and he had been drowning, therefore he took the breath that belonged to him. Kaz never kissed anyone before, nor did he imagine himself doing so, but he did it with a strange hunger, as if he was a starving animal in captivity.

In a way both of them were animals, walking the cruel roads of the city, taking down anyone that crossed their paths in the need of survival. In a way, Kaz was no better than a starving animal, looking for crumbs to feed his hunger, finding any way for revenge to ease his anger. And in a way, Y/N was the first healthy taste that could keep Kaz from starving again.

She was addicting. The kiss couldn't have lasted more than 5 seconds, but Kaz already felt himself in need of another. He only tasted her once but he wanted more. So much more.

His knees didn't stop weakening, and he still couldn't quite catch his breath, and maybe it was from the lack of air in his lungs, or his heart beating too loudly in his ears to hear anything, but despite his past with touch, despite his head trying to tell him to stop, almost as soon as they broke apart Kaz captivated her once again.

This kiss was more tender than the first. Kaz still kissed her with wild hunger, but now he took his time getting familiar with her lips. Although, Y/N didn't let herself fall under his spell this time, she daringly smoothed her fingers through his raven hair, stopping at the nape of his neck and gently caressing some strands. She stood still, letting Kaz do what he wanted with his hands on her.

It all felt like a dream, a dream that she was bound to keep like a memory, not just another one of her hallucinations. She knew this wasn't real, it couldn't have been, because she knew her Kaz could never touch her like this. Not in this lifetime. So she let herself get lost in this dream more than she should've let herself to, because she knew her drunkenness would be a reasonable excuse.

Therefore she couldn't bring herself to step away from him. She wanted to kiss him, needed to kiss him, desperately, and if this was the only way she would do so, in her drunk imagination, then she would have to settle for it. She had to accept that this lifetime wasn't meant for them.

Kaz knew his anger. It was hot and messy, uncalculated, selfish and greedy, which brought out the monster in him. It made him destroy everything in his path, without a single care about who's coming down with him. Kaz knew his anger.

Except this time. As he stepped inside Y/N's flat, looking at the broken chair in the corner, the different marks on the walls, and the small droplets of dried blood at the entrance, he felt a deep rage take over him, and out of instinct he tightened his arm around Y/N just a bit more.

He imagined every scenario as Y/N talked about the fights, from the bad to the worst, but seeing the remnaints of those fights in the organized and neat place felt almost ridiculous to him.

Y/N didn't bother with covering about the damage. She kept her place clean and comfortable as always, and now her place looked like as if the two sides of her life clashed against one another.

Kaz walked over to the bed with her and sat her down, before he grabbed a glass and poured her some water. He signaled for her to drink it and she agreed, probably unaware of what she was drinking. Meanwhile Kaz looked around and lit up a few candles around the room. Then Y/N moved to take off her boots, failing to do so. After multiple attempts and swearing under her breath, Kaz spoke up.

"Stop that and lie down. I'll help," he told her and set his cane down on the bed next to her. She began giggling as he knelt down on one knee to take her boots off. "If you wanted to get me into bed, you could've just asked," she chuckled and Kaz felt his face heat up. He was grateful that she couldn't see his face right now.

"And what would be the fun in that?" Kaz asked and Y/N could hear the cockyness in his voice. "The easiness. I would let you without thinking, you know." Kaz sat her boots next to her bedside table and looked up at her as she slowly sat up.

"You're not an easy woman Y/N, therefore I wouldn't want easy with you." Kaz told her and watched her smile faltered and her eyes got bigger, like when she was concentrating on something. He took it as a sign to continue.

But before he did, he took a moment to really look at her like this. Face red from drinking, eyes shining in the candelight, her gaze full of emotion, hair messy from touching it too much, a few strands sticking to the side of her face, probably from sweat. Kaz moved to tuck those strands of hair behind her ear, and Y/N watched his tender movements with a sleepy smile, but a smile nonetheless.

Kaz, still on his knees, told her to go to sleep and she happily obliged. She fell back on the bed, quickly moving around for a comfortable position then closed her eyes and fell asleep in just a few minutes.

"I'll be right here," Kaz whispered as he got up from his kneeling position, and got to work.

Y/N woke up to the sound of keys jingling. Against her tired muscles she quickly sat up and grabbed her knife from under her pillow. When her front door opened she threw the knife without hesitation.

Knowing that she probably didn't aim right she grabbed another knife from her bedside table and rushed to the intruder. She grabbed the back of their coat and held the knife to their throat, or she would've, if the person didn't block them with their cane. With the beak of the crow.

"This is how you greet your friends?" Kaz asked mockingly to which Y/N just rolled her eyes and took her knife away from Kaz's face. "Why are you here?" She asked back.

"Good morning, yes I'm quite fine, how are you?" He said and the small grin on his face made Y/N want to kick his cane from under him. "Been better. Could do without the slight headache though, but I'm sure it comes and goes with you," Y/N told him and turned her back to get the knife back in its place.

"You were much better company last night." She turned around abruptly. "What did I do?" Kaz didn't answer at first, which made her worried she did something stupid again. "Kaz, what the hell did I do last night?"

"For starters, you hit up probably half a dozen bars to drown yourself in whatever was cheapest. Then you poured your heart out, probably would've fallen into the canal if it wasn't for me," He said the last words with a mix of mocking and smugness. "Better question: what did you do?"

"A thank you would suffice for saving your ass," He told her and she just scoffed. "Thank you, for being a-" Y/N started but as she hopped down on her bed she felt her ribs ache and she had to breathe loudly to ease the pain. Kaz was in front of her in seconds and had an almost worried look on his face. "What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just-nothing. Probably slept in a bad position," she winced as she put a hand on her left side, but she didn't miss the fact that Kaz reached his hand out. It was only a second, or half a second before he took it back, but she saw it.

Imaged of him touching her flashes through her, his hands in her hair, on her face and neck. She could still feel the touch on her lips, and for a second she just stared back at him in surprise. Was it...was it real? Kaz looked at her questioningly, not knowing what just went through her mind.

Then Kaz sat his cane on her bedside table before he got rid of his coat and put it next to her on the bed. Another image came up: the same position, but he was kneeling in front of her. Y/N shook her head a little, trying to get rid of the images.

"Kaz, what are you do-AH," Y/N shouted as Kaz lifted up her shirt and put his hand on her ribs. He kept poking her left side all the while she was cursing him into oblivion. When Kaz finally stopped and reached for the hem of her shirt she grabbed her clothing and clutched it.

"Hey! No more of this! What do you think you're doing?"

"Measuring up your bruises. I need to know how many punches you took," Kaz told her as a matter-of-factly, and Y/N stared back in confusion. "From who?!"

"Your landlord. Mr. Kozar."

Silence fell over the room. Kaz could see the confusion turn into embarassment, then into fear. Y/N was still clutching her shirt, but this time with a tight grip to ground herself in reality.

"How do you-" She started, but then stopped as she looked up at him. "I told you last night, didn't I?"

"Yes, everything," Kaz had to slightly bite down on his lip, so as not to tell her what did he plan for her landlord tonight. The sight of her, slowly curling in on herself, looking as if she wanted to disappear, when Kaz knew better than anyone that she always made her presence known everywhere she went.

Kaz gently touched the hem of her shirt, next to the piece of fabric she was currently holding in an iron grip, when she looked at him again, this time with uncertainity. Kaz just waited.

"If you want to take off my clothes, at least ask my permission first. Be a gentleman," Y/N told him quietly and loosened her grip on her shirt. Kaz scoffed quietly as he kneeled down in front of her. "I'm anything but gentle," he said, his touch on her shirt never tightening.

"Can I?" Kaz asked on a voice so soft it could've melted gold. Y/N never heard him talk that way, therefore she had to take a moment to grasp her head around how sweet his voice sounded. "Can I take off your shirt?" Kaz asked her again, his soft, sweet voice not faltering. Y/N gently nodded. "Yes."

The minutes while Kaz looked at her bruises, sometimes poking them again, she felt like crying the entire time. Not from the pain, that she was used to living in the Barrel for this long, but from how tender his touches were. He may believe he's not a gentleman, but Y/N knew the truth. She knew the heart behind the iron bars.

After Kaz finished, he handed her shirt back and even helped when she had to stretch out her side. He told her one of her ribs might be fractured, but it shouldn't cause her any trouble tonight.

"Is there a job tonight? Wait, was the meeting I missed last night about this?" Y/N asked Kaz quickly after she reached for her boots to put them on. She was stopped by Kaz's cane snatching them away. "This isn't a job, only if you want to look at it that way," he said carefully and it made Y/N suspicious.

"What did you do?"

"I? I did nothing. Your landlord, on the other hand, did more than what's understandable, even more so, hurting someone close to me, which I believe you don't tolerate either, therefore I set up a meeting with him," Kaz said and rested his hands on the top of his cane, looking at everywhere except her eyes. Y/N didn't miss the way he described their relationship. Someone close to me. Was she still dreaming? Or was this real life? Before she could ask him about that little detail, another thought formed in her mind.

"What meeting?" She asked but the way Kaz glanced at her for just a few seconds before putting his coat on to go on his way, told her more than his words could've. "Oh, a meeting, as in, torture,"

"Only if you want it to get to that point," Kaz said and Y/N was up on her feet right in front of him, and her subconscious got giddy at the fact that he didn't move away from her. "Why Kaz? You didn't have to bother with any of-"

"I did." He said suddenly, and his tone made Y/N go silent. "I do, because I wasn't careful enough to investigate this place like I did with the one before, because I trusted you enough to handle things, because I knew ypu would fight your way out of it. Then you told me you were assaulted, multiple times, multiple fucking times Y/N andyou never once told any of us. You never onced mentioned it, not to anyone, not to me." Kaz told her getting angry at himself for not making sure you were alright, because he was too absorved in his own thoughts, in his feelings for you, trying to punish himself for feeling the way he did. Meanwhile it got to a point where he forgot to protect you. He forgot. He never forgot to look after you. "You didn't ask my help."

"You had enough on your plate now that Pekka's out of the picture. You had business to run, I couldn't have just walk through your door saying my landlord is a greedy asshole who's attacking me at any inconvenience. You wouldn't have cared."

"I would!" Kaz said louder and Y/N looked at him in shock. She was about to speak when Kaz interrupted her. "I do. I do care. I care about your well-being enough, that I wouldn't care at which time of day or night you came for my help." He practically whispered the last few words and he could almost feel her lips against his, the memory suddenly blinding him. "Never be too stubborn to ask for my help. Just come to me."

Y/N could hardly breathe in that moment. All of the flashes from her dream, they weren't dreams at all. She really touched his face, and Kaz really kissed her. Now she remembered how his lips moved against hers as if he had been hungry all his life. And as Kaz looked at her with his pale blue eyes, she was reminded of the fact that he initiated the second kiss. Y/N wanted to know how he kissed, now that she was sober. If it felt addicting while she was drunk, she couldn't begin to imagine what it would feel like now that she's sober.

"I need your help Kaz," she whispered and Kaz's face turned serious at the mention of his name. "I'm afraid I don't remember much from last night." Y/N whispered as she slowly held her hand up next to his face, not wanting to be too quich with her movements, but Kaz gently grabbed her hand and put on the side of his face.

"And now?" Kaz asked raspily. Y/N felt like fainting, as she took a quick inhale. "Not familiar," she said and Kaz moved her other hand to the nape of his neck while he put a hand under her jaw, on her neck. "How about this?" He asked, the words a whisper against her lips. "Still not remembering," she moved her head just a little closer to him and heard Kaz quietly gasp for air, to which she let out a small smile.

"This, you remember," Kaz didn't waste time hugging her even closer to him, so he could finally kiss her again. Saints know he's been itching to do so.

Y/N let out a small gasp in the kiss and Kaz poured all of his years of yearning into their kiss.

Since that night the Barrel had something worse to fear from Dirtyhands: his love and devotion.

[fullstcp]

"sweetener" by Ariana Grande Sentence Starters

raindrops (an angel cried)

"The day you left me, an angel cried."

blazed

"There is something between us."

"I thought that I was dreaming."

"I can't believe that you are here."

"I can't believe it's happening."

"What are the odds that you'd appear?"

"Could've been anywhere, but you're here with me."

"Once I have you I will never let you go."

"I don't care who is listening."

"Don't think it cannot happen, 'cause it can."

the light is coming

"Now I'm the bad guy."

"The light is coming to give back everything the darkness stole."

"You don't listen 'cause you know everything."

"Guess you're way above it now."

"How can they tell you shit that you've been through?"

"Who cares about their rationale?"

"Why do we have chemistry?"

R.E.M.

"You're such a dream to me."

"I don't wanna wake up."

"Excuse me, um, I love you."

"I know that's not the way to start a conversation."

"You can stop your playing now."

"Is this real?"

"I will never dare to tell."

"Think I heard some wedding bells."

"What happened?"

"Why you?"

"I'm tryna turn two single people into a couple."

"What's your next month like?"

"Tell me what you're up to."

god is a woman

"I don't wanna waste no time."

"You ain't got a one-track mind."

"I like that you ain't afraid."

"I can be all the things you told me not to be."

"You're different from the rest."

sweetener

"You come through like the sweetener you are to bring the bitter taste to a halt."

"How's life?"

"I don't know what I'd do without you in my life."

"I'm hoping that everybody can experience what we have in ours."

successful

"I just got some real good news from work."

"You can't imagine what I'm 'bout to say."

"I'm so excited, I can hardly wait."

"What else is there to say?"

"I'm so successful."

"This ain't nothing ordinary for me."

"What is so special?"

"You really wanna know? You'll have to wait."

"Are you ready for your surprise?"

everytime

"I go back to you every time."

"I get tired of your no-shows."

"I'm so different when you're not there."

"I'm really not here when you're not there."

"I've tried to fight our energy."

"Why, oh, why does God keep bringing me back to you?"

"I can't make a good case why we can't change."

breathin

"Some days, things just take way too much of my energy."

"You take my cares away."

"I can so over-complicate."

"I know that all this shit's fabricated."

"Just keep breathin'."

"You remind me of a time when things weren't so complicated."

"All I need is to see your face."

no tears left to cry

"Right now, I'm in a state of mind I wanna be in like all the time."

"Don't matter how, what, where, who tries it."

"We out here vibin'."

"Can't stop now."

"Shut your mouth."

borderline

"I just want you to be mine."

"Won't you give me a bit of your time?"

"You play hard-to-get, but I know you want me, too."

"You know I be one of a kind."

"I don't want this time to pass."

better off

"You keep me in your orbit."

"I know I'm a hard one to please."

"I'd rather your body than half of your heart."

"I never let 'em know too much."

"Hate getting too emotional."

"I'm better off without you."

"I'm better off not being around you."

"I'll never be ready for you."

"I swear my love is a curse."

"Let's put them topics to bed and go fuck on the roof, just to say that we did."

goodnight n go

"Tell me why you gotta look at me that way."

"You already know what I'm thinking."

"Why'd you have to be so cute?"

"It's impossible to ignore you."

"Why must you make me laugh so much?"

"It's bad enough we get along so well."

"Just say goodnight and go."

"We'll have drinks and talk about things."

"We'd be good, we'd be great together."

pete davidson

"I thought you into my life."

"I know you know that you're my soulmate and all that."

"My whole life got me ready for you."

get well soon

"What's wrong with you?"

"Come back down."

"I'm too much in my head, did you notice?"

"Want you to get better."

"My life is so controlled by the what-ifs."

"Is there anybody else whose mind does this?"

"Here's one thing you can trust."

[kira-fluff]

*discreetly slides french fry across the table* could you out nishinoya and hinata in for the next haikyuu boys accidentally waking in on you?

a/n: i now only accept french fries as currency. jk lol you’re so cute anon ;-; 💕 glad to see it’s not just me who loves to read these tropes;;; once again i am thirsting after hiroo koji like he should not be allowed to be that hot and he deserved more relevance solely because he is so so attractive ugh

accidentally walking in on you changing - haikyuu [pt. 3]

pt. 1 pt. 2 refresh my page in order to view my navigation (includes masterlists) :) tw: fem!reader, suggestive, nsfw, cursing

-

nishinoya yu

rapid blinking, his facing progressively growing more red. if you’re quiet, you can hear the faintest little gasp.

you thought he was going to make a big, loud ruckus once he saw you? no, he’s literally shocked into silence. what a cutie. please don’t yell at him :’( he feels superrrr bad especially since like,,, he can’t stop thinking about you in that state. why are you so lovely and pretty and gorgeous?!?!??!? once he’s over his initial shock and you come out of the room fully dressed, his apology will also include a few compliments. what? he can appreciate art just like the rest of us.

hinata shoyo

“O-O-OH MY GOD I’M — I’M SORRY! SORRY! SORRY! SORRY! SORRY! SORRY! SORR—“

jumped so high he accidentally hit his head on the top of the door. his eyes are comically wide open! won’t stop apologizing though, he literally cannot hear a word you’re saying over the rushing of his heartbeat. repeatedly bows in tandem with his many apologies. you might have to grab him in order to get him to finally stop. this boy was about to grovel for you lol. he can’t help it though!! he drinks respect women juice and he just wants you to know that he loves and respects you AND you are so pretty but oh shit did i say that last part out loud?

daichi sawamura

“p-please excuse me!”

this dude deadass broke your door he slammed it so hard. i mean he’s beefy as fuck so what did you expect. he bows so low you think he might topple over with the exertion and effort he’s putting into it. he won’t allow his mind to wander.. he knows just how easily he will go down that road. he swears he’s a gentleman even when it’s late at night and he can’t sleep, a tent in his pants. even when he’s trying so hard to resist thinking of you, his dick says otherwise. he will reflexively apologize to you whenever he sees you… he’s terrified you can read his thoughts — they aren’t the purest things ever.

matsukawa issei

“heh.”

can i punch him? shut the fuck up issei. his stupid ass fucking laugh like what’s so funny bitch you wanna throw hands??? you missed the way his hooded eyes pooled with lust when he took in your form, a complete lack of clothing adorning your beautiful body. if you’re feisty enough you might even start beating the shit out of him while forgetting you’re completely naked. that would be something he’d never forget. lol. but seriously, he’s not laughing at your body, he’s laughing because all that’s running through his mind is “what did i do for god to bless me like this?” hanamaki calls him “lucky bastard” for a while, unbeknownst to your oblivious self. yeah, he’s going to ask you out. soon. no one else can look at you like that… right? please date him. he doesn’t think he can handle anymore of your blushing gazes… he wants to kiss you so bad.

semi eita

looks anywhere but you. what? “did you see something?” pfft. no. no. nope.

what do you mean you swore you met his eyes? he was looking at your potted plant (which you need to stop overwatering, by the way). he knows you can tell through his thinly veiled lie, but please don’t call him out on it. it’s all that holding him together right now. seriously. he wants you so, so badly.. and you just made things a whole lot worse. he knocked but you didn’t hear him? how does that even happen? you knew he was coming over!! …by the way, this stays between the two of you. if tendo ever found out……yeah, no. absolutely not.

shirabu kenjiro

crosses his arms, biting the inside of his cheek, eyebrow raised. but he’s looking away, so…

another salty ass bitch. but he does it hot-ly. so it’s like, semi-okay. but only SEMI-okay. he’s such a big, fat, bratty liar. like “oh geez use a lock dumbass” but you know and he knows that he is soft as hell for you. it’s pretty hard to ignore the fact that he gives you adorable highlighted, meticulous study guides for every single test you have (and not to anyone else, of course). basically he’s salty to everyone but you. but he’s got a reputation to uphold so he’s gonna act like that’s totally not true. but fuck, you’re so pretty. not fair. and why did you have to be in your panties? couldn’t you’ve kept a damn shirt on?

hiroo koji (if you don’t know who he is he’s HOT ASF TRUST ME so look him up and join the Worship Koji religion uwu)

“seriously?”

how is this shit even real? what is this, an anime? yes this shit doesn’t happen normally but of course you just HAD to find a way for even the most impossible situations to occur. such a classic YOU thing to happen. only you. it was always you. you already consumed the majority of his thoughts and now it looks like you might just consume all of them. letting out a painful sigh, he closes the door as you continue to gape at him, only letting out a soft, “uuumm…” what sort of reaction was that anyway? i mean, you throwing stuff at him would’ve been a pain but it almost seemed like— …no, there’s no way. whatever, it’s not like he cares. totally not at all. ugh.

himekawa aoi

no words, just a shocked hand over his mouth, covering his silent scream.

hoW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HIM!!! hE WAS NOT PREPARED!!!! immediately his face bursts into flames… why is it so freakishly hot in here? why are you naked? why did you have to take so longer to register his presence before finally covering yourself up? WHY ARE YOU SO GORGEOUS?? literally sirens, just sirens going off in his head. so dramatic. literally, if you aren’t screaming your lungs out as he slams the door, you can hear his rough panting, trying to cover his face as he feels all his blood rush south. so. cute. though he probably will take at least a month to recover.

[mackenzielovee]

my girl (part 4) - rafe cameron

a/n: SURPRISE! I wrote a part 4 ;) i had this idea right after i said i was only doing 3 parts - but this really is the final one! I really hope ya'll enjoy. It's a little shorter than the rest! (not my gif)

Summary: Nope sorry you have to read!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, kissing, and test anxiety

Word Count: 4.4k

series masterlist

my writing

Your phone buzzing on your nightstand distracts you get again from cramming for your Chemistry final. The exam happens in two days, yet you feel like it might as well be in two hours with the amount of anxiety you have. It's your second year of college, and boy, it hasn't gotten any easier. Thankfully, your roommate is out for the night so you have your entire dorm to yourself to study.

You lean over and check your phone. Another missed call from your fiancee, Rafe. Beside your phone on your nightstand sits your engagement ring. You stare at it for a moment and swallow your feelings, then move back over to your chemistry textbook. Your phone buzzes again - a voicemail from Rafe this time, which you don't bother to listen to.

Chemistry is your focus tonight. Chemistry is what you need to be studying for, what you need to know inside and out. You throw yourself back into it, shutting off your phone when it buzzes yet again. You need absolutely zero distractions.

About twenty minutes into it, you hear a loud knock on the door. You sigh, figuring your roommate forgot her ID or keys again. You pull open the door and sigh, fully shocked when you find Rafe standing at your door. He's out of breath from running inside from the parking lot, and he looks pissed off.

"Oh, good, you're alive," he snaps, pushing his way into your room before you can even invite him.

"What are you doing here?" you ask him, closing the door so none of your nosy neighbors can listen to yet another argument between the two of you.

Things haven't been good. You're sick of him calling and texting you all the time, him begging you to come home, and constantly asking who you're with when you go out. On top of all of that, your classes this semester are harder than they've ever been, but Rafe never respects when you say you need space and time to study.

"Checking to see if my fucking fiancee is breathing!" he shouts, throwing his hands up in the air, "I mean, shit, Y/N, I called you, like, twenty times."

You glance over to the nightstand at your phone, realizing your ring was over there, too. You know he won't like that.

"I shut my phone off. I really need to study, Rafe," you tell him, but he's not listening.

Instead, he collapses onto your bed and puts his head in his hands, sitting directly on your Chem textbook and notes.

"Oh, my God, what the hell? Get up," you snap at him, walking over and pushing him off so he doesn't ruin your notes or textbook pages.

"It's fucking fine," he replies as he stands, barely glancing at your papers.

"No, it's not. I need this shit to pass my exam-" you hold the wrinkled papers up.

"They're literally fine, Y/N," his voice raises, "Stop being so dramatic."

You take a deep breath before you speak again, knowing whatever comes out will not be very nice. You've really been trying to be patient with him, but it's getting harder and harder.

"I'm not being dramatic, Rafe," you say calmly, "I just really need to study and I need peace and quiet."

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck as he debates what to say next. Neither of you want to start a fight, but you both have a lot of shit to say. His eye catches the shiny object on the nightstand and he looks over, figuring out it's your engagement ring.

"What the fuck?" he gasps, picking it up and holding it out to you, "Since when do you take this off?"

You put your hands on your forehead and sigh, realizing this is going to take up a lot of time that you don't have. And the fact that Rafe drove eight hours on a whim because you didn't pick up his calls all day has made you crazy.

"I cannot do this with you right now," you tell him, stepping toward your Chemistry stuff.

You'll just have to go to the library and study if he's going to be here. There's no way you can get any of your shit done with him bitching about your ring.

"Oh, my bad, when can you do it, then?" he rolls his eyes, "Huh? Can you give me, like, a window of time where you're actually available to talk?"

"Rafe-" you start, but he holds his hand up.

"No, because, I mean, I don't hear from you all day, and I'm fucking worried about you, so I make the long ass drive to come check on my soon-to-be wife, and now I'm the bad guy? Yeah, no, I get it now!" he exclaims.

"Jesus, okay, I have to go," you say, grabbing your backpack from the floor and sliding some slippers on.

"Right, to study," he grumbles.

"Yeah, to study," you snap back, "Just because you didn't go to school doesn't mean you can't at least try to understand!"

You rarely raise your voice at him, so Rafe knows you're mad. He stares at you for a second, deciding if he should acknowledge your comment about him not attending school.

"It's not about whether or not I understand, it's about time management," he lectures, making you roll your eyes, "Don't roll your fucking eyes at me."

"Don't show up at my dorm unannounced!" you yell back.

"I wouldn't have been unannounced if you would answer your goddamn phone!"

You take a deep breath and exhale loudly, then step closer to the door. Rafe walks over to you and grabs your arm, spinning you around. You stare up at him like he's crazy, he's never laid a hand on you like that before.

"Put your ring back on," he demands, holding it out in his hand.

"What the fuck is your problem, Rafe? You think I'm gonna get hit on walking to the damn library? Get a grip," you mutter, trying to yank your arm from his grasp but failing.

"I'm not playing," he tells you, holding the ring up in his other hand.

"Neither am I," you snap, "Let go of me."

He stares at you for another few seconds and then releases you, groaning loudly when he does. He steps away from you and runs his hand through his hair, then sets your ring back down on the nightstand.

"What's going on with us?" he grumbles, sitting down on your bed again.

You start to feel bad as you look at him, so you step closer and set your books down on you desk. You open your mouth to speak, to apologize and return your ring to your finger, when he speaks out again.

"Why didn't you answer the fucking phone when I called?"

You close your mouth quickly, swallowing the words you were about to say. You stare at him for a moment, then you decide that it's just best to tell him the absolute, stone cold truth.

"Because I have shit going on, Rafe. I have a Chem final in two days and I'm not at all prepared, I have other finals and an entire paper due by the end of the week, and I have you up my ass about everything in between and it's just a little overwhelming right now."

He brings his head out of his hands and looks up at you. His expression changes from hurt to angry in about one second, so you brace yourself.

"So what do you want me to do to help you, then?" he asks, his voice agitated. You can tell he's trying to be patient, but he really wants to yell.

"I just need you to give me some space right now," you state.

He nods his head, moving his eyes away from yours and down to the floor.

"Space," he repeats, "You want space."

You nod your head slowly, afraid now to speak. You can't tell what his reaction is about to be, but obviously it isn't going to be a good one.

"So, you ignore my phone calls," he holds up one finger, "You take off your engagement ring," another finger, "And now you want space. Do you think I'm a fucking moron?"

He stands up off the bed, now towering over you. Your hands come up to your face, rubbing your eyes to try and relieve some form of stress.

"God, Rafe, you're making this out to be something it's not-"

"Am I?" he shouts, "Do you want to marry me or not? I mean, I really think that's what this boils down to. Am I what you want, or not?"

His yelling combined with your stress and confusion makes you yell back at him.

"I don't know!"

He steps back, almost like you've hurt him, and stares at you with a look you've never seen before. It's anger, betrayal, confusion, and sadness all rolled into one, heartbroken expression. It makes your stomach turn thinking about the fact that you're hurting him.

"Well, there it is," he says, his voice cracking, "I'll just get out of your way, then."

He leans down and grabs the ring from your nightstand, wrapping his large hand around it and then stepping toward the door.

"Rafe, wait," you say, "Where are you going to go? You can't drive home in the dark."

He doesn't turn around, he can't look at you. Not when you're not sure what you want.

"I'll sleep in the truck," he says, his voice weak and quiet.

"No," you protest, "Rafe, I'm sorry."

He stands there for a few seconds, then turns, and you see the tears in his eyes. One has fallen, and rests on the bottom of his cheek. He wipes it away, but not quick enough.

"Why are you sorry? I'm not what you want anymore," he laughs, but nothing is funny.

Another tear falls and you step forward quickly, reaching up to wipe it away. He closes his eyes under your touch, always loving feeling your skin on his.

"I didn't say that," you say gently, tears welling in your eyes from seeing him like this.

"Just..." he trails off, finally opening his red eyes, "Go ace your Chem final. I'll see you at home in a few days."

He reaches up and grabs your hand, removing it from his cheek. He lays a quick kiss on your knuckles, then closes his eyes again when he lets go of you. Not sure if it's his last time feeling you.

He turns to leave, opening the door up before he turns back to you.

"I love you. I always will."

He doesn't wait for your response, he just closes the door behind him. You turn and look at the nightstand where your ring once sat, wishing to God that it was still there. You want to tun after him, but you know you can't. You two just need some cooling off time, you tell yourself. You'll come back again atfer finals when you get home for Christmas break. He'll hold onto your ring for you, you convince yourself of that.

You can't focus. The next day, you spend all your time in the library, staring at a page in your Chem textbook, and all you can focus on is your empty finger. No pretty ring that reflects every ounce of Rafe's love for you. You check your phone, but all you see is an empty screen. Your wallpaper is a cheesy picture of Rafe holding a wine glass. You took it on your anniversary last year and love everything about it, especially his cheesy grin.

Tears start to form in your eyes, so you do what you have to do. You call him. It rings and rings and rings, then you hear his familiar, raspy voice on his voicemail.

Yo, it's Rafe. Leave a message and I might hit you back.

You close your eyes, those two sentences being the most you've heard from him in almost twenty-four hours.

"Hey," you start your message, "Look, I'm sorry about last night. I really want to talk. Please call me back. Love you, bye."

You sigh and hang up the phone, then look down to your book again. You try and try to focus, but you can't. It just is impossible with everything spinning around your brain. You can still see the look on his face when you said you weren't sure, you can still hear him say 'I love you' right before he left.

And it's all you want to hear again.

You slam your book shut and grab your stuff, then make your way out of the library. Once you get outside, you call Rafe again. You hear the same ringing and the same message from his voicemail, so you leave another.

"Baby, please call me. I'm worried about you. I just want us to talk. Please call. I love you."

You hang up and walk back to your dorm, checking every five seconds to see if he's called you back. You really just want to hear his voice, to apologize, and to be able to focus on Chemistry again. Knowing that Rafe is out there hurting is just too distracting.

You call hm again after you get back to your dorm, giving him about thirty minutes to call back before you try him again. When he doesn't answer, you leave another message.

"Hey," you say, your voice sounding more desperate, "I'm going to call Dad and have him come get me. I'm skipping out on my Chem final. I just want to come home and work things out with you. Call me, please. Love you."

And you mean every word. You sit down on your bed and you remember how Rafe had helped you move in on your first day of freshman year. You remember how he made love to you and how he proposed to you in the parking lot before he left. And you remember all the times he came to visit and you two laid in bed and planned out your whole wedding reception together, laughing and joking about who to invite and who to sit together.

As you sit there and remember it all, remember the kisses and the laughs and the feelings you have when you're with him, you've never been more sure in your life. It's Rafe. It will always be Rafe.

You hear a knock on your dorm room door and hop out of bed, rushing over to it. It's him, you hope. Coming to rescue you, coming to hold you, coming to give you your ring back. You pull open the door with a big smile, only to find your roommate, Alex, standing on the other side.

"Hey," she says, looking confused at why you opened the door like that, "Sorry. I forgot my keys."

You drop your shoulders and nod, moving her out of the way. She leaves the door open as she moves over to her side of the room to search for them. You sit back down on your bed, checking your phone once again. He has to call back eventually.

"You're not ditching your Chemistry final."

You look up and see him, standing in the doorway, staring at you. His eyes are tired, his hair is a mess, and he looks like he's hung over. You don't even want to know where the hell he's been for the past day.

"Rafe," you breathe, hopping up from your bed.

You want to throw your arms around him, hug him, and have you hold him. He stops you when you get close to him, holding out his hand to keep distance between the two of you, which practically breaks your heart in two.

"You're not coming home until you take that test," he repeats, "You've been studying for it and if you don't take it, you fail. So, you're staying. I called your dad."

You frown. This is not how you imagined it. He seems colder somehow.

"Okay," you say, "Fine. But I want us to talk."

Rafe shakes his head, leaning against the doorframe. Alex walks up behind you, whispering she will be back later, and leaves with a quick smile to Rafe.

"I'm giving you your space so you can focus. We'll work on us when you're done with the semester."

He sounds firm, but you know you can win this one. You step forward, so close that he can almost feel your skin on his. Your scent fills the air, and you watch as he swallows his feelings.

"Rafe," you say, your voice soft, "I can't focus on anything knowing that I hurt you. I need to talk about us and figure things out. Please."

"Baby," he sighs, and you know you've won just by the return of your nickname. It's your favorite, which is why he calls you it so often.

"Please," you say, taking his hand. Your fingers wrap through his, pulling him inside.

He groans but enters anyway, both of you knowing that he would do anything for you. The door closes behind him, which you're thankful for. You sit him down on your bed and instantly crawl onto his lap, not caring if that's what he wants or not. That's what you need. Your head buries into his chest and your arms wrap around his neck.

"Baby," he says again, this time with more authority.

You bring your lips up to his neck to soften him up, listening to the small moans that come out of his mouth as you work.

"Rafe," you say against his skin, "I'm so sorry for what I said yesterday."

He hums, so you give him a few more kisses on his neck before you pull back to look at him. He stares at you with soft eyes, and you know you've already won him over. But you still need to say what you need to say.

"Truly, baby. I was wrong. I was angry. You are all I want in this world and I couldn't handle any of this without you. I was acting extremely ungrateful and I'm really, really sorry," you continue, watching him smile sadly at you.

"Well," he smirks, moving his hands from your back down to your butt, "I've always known you're a brat, so."

"Hey," you pretend to pout, but really, you just want a kiss. He gives you a slow, gentle one, one that makes you want to melt into him.

"You are the love of my life," he says, "You could never say anything to make me walk. And I'm sorry for being such a dick yesterday and for not respecting your school. I'm gonna get better. This shit is just hard for me, having you all the way here. I just miss you when I'm home."

You nod, reaching up and brushing his hair away from his eyes with your fingers. Even when he hasn't showered, is in the same clothes as yesterday, hasn't styled his hair or even slept well, he still is the most handsome to you.

"I understand. I'm sorry for being so hard on you," you say, kissing him on the cheek.

He smiles against your lips, bringing his hands up to your face to move you down to his lips.

"Are we okay?" he asks you in between kisses.

You hum against his lips, and he takes that as a yes, so he flips you over and lays down on top of you, kissing you like his life depends on it. He quickly moves down to your neck, his hands going underneath your shirt.

"Oh, my God, I missed you, baby," he tells you as you feel him leaving a hickey on your neck.

"Always marking me up," you laugh at him, feeling him smirk against you, "I missed you, too."

"It killed me not calling you back," he continues against your neck, "But I wanted to do right by you, you know?"

You gasp when he bites you slightly, then laugh when you feel his big grin on your neck.

"That's why I love you the way I do," you say sweetly.

He sits up and looks down at you, smirking widely, "Can you love me like you do right now and then get back to your studying?"

You bite your lip and nod, pulling him back down on top of you.

A little while later, you and Rafe lay naked in your bed, just breathing in the other. Rafe is drawing hearts into the skin on your stomach, leaving little kisses every so often on any inch of skin he could reach with his mouth.

"You need to get back to studying," he says, but doesn't stop with his kisses.

"Can I have my ring back first?"

He looks up at you with wide eyes, wondering if you really mean it. He didn't want to bring up the ring, just in case you had changed your mind about the engagement.

"You sure?" he asks quietly.

You grab his chin and pull him up to you, stroking his hair as you give him a couple quick kisses.

"I've never been more sure of anything," you tell him.

He nods and kisses you again, then hops off the bed and pulls the ring out of the zipped up pocket of his shorts. He grins at you and then jumps back in bed, of course landing on you when he does.

"This is a twin bed, you ogre. You can't be jumping and shit, there's not enough room for you!" you say as you try to free your left side from underneath him.

He moves and lets you get situated, then holds out the ring. You hold up your left hand for him ti put it on you once again.

"Will you marry me?" he asks, and you would've laughed at him if his voice wasn't so gentle and nervous.

"Of course I will, Rafe Cameron," you tell him, smiling.

He slides your ring back on your finger and you somehow feel more complete, more whole, knowing it's there.

"It's never coming off again," you tell him, meaning it.

He kisses you softly, "No, it's not."

Rafe takes a shower and then hangs out on your bed on his phone later on to keep himself occupied while you study for Chem at your desk. You ask him to quiz you and he does, even though he knows nothing about Chemistry.

It gets late, so you tell him you'll study the rest tomorrow and hope to be prepared the following day for the exam. You put your book and notes on your desk, then slide into bed with Rafe, who you made stay with you tonight. Although it didn't take much convincing.

"I can't believe your dad is just letting you take all this time off," you mumble against his chest.

"Hmm," Rafe hums, so you know you're wrong, "I've kinda been dodging his calls."

"He'll be mad," you tell him, and he nods.

"I don't care, though. I got what I came here for."

You spend all day the next day studying in the library for Chem and writing your paper, while Rafe packs your things for you. He figures it's one less thing for you to worry about, and then you can just come with him after you finish your exam. He had told you he wanted to be the one to bring you, his soon-to-be wife, home.

Rafe waits for you outside your building on exam day. One by one, students file out of the building, and he gets even more anxious every time you aren't one of them. Eventually, he stops pacing and sits down on a bench, praying that you do well.

He sees you emerge from the building with only ten minutes to spare, and jumps up to greet you.

"So?" he asks, his voice hopeful.

"I won't know for a few days," you tell him, "But I'm confident. I felt like I had most of it under control."

He smiles, taking your hand in his and kissing it, "I'm so proud of you, baby."

You smile and thank him, then put your head on his chest in hopes that he'll wrap his arms around you. With the amount of stress you've been under the past few days, all you want is just for him to hold you right now.

"I'm so proud of you," he repeats, swallowing you up in his arms.

You breathe in his scent and relax, knowing that even if you fail every class you ever take for the rest of your life, you will always have a place in the arms of this boy.

After a few minutes, you move to look up at him by resting your chin on his sternum, staring up at him. He smiles down at you, running a hand through your hair as an attempt to calm you down.

"Take me home, Rafe," you tell him quietly, and he nods.

He reaches down and takes your hand, leading you away from the building. You two go back and grab the remaining items you need to bring home, the rest Rafe already packed in the truck, and then go out to the parking lot to head home.

You feel relieved, ready to spend some quality time with Rafe and really make sure to work on things so that nothing ever gets bad between the two of you again.

He puts you into the truck and closes your door, then hops into the driver's side. He reaches over and takes your hand, staring at the ring on your finger and smiling softly.

"Let's just elope and get it over with," he looks up at you, already laughing because he knows you'll never agree.

"Yeah, I'm glad our wedding is something you just wanna get over with," you roll your eyes, but can't help your smile.

"You know what I mean," Rafe groans, "We don't need all the bullshit and the drama. I just need you. And a minister."

You laugh at him and nod, understanding what he means. He looks down at your hand in his, at the diamond on your finger, and so do you. You honestly can't remember why you took it off, you just know you never will again.

"A small wedding it is," you whisper.

He leans over and gives you a kiss. Then another. Then another. He pulls away and starts the truck, then looks back over a you.

"Baby, I'll do whatever you want."

That sentence combined with the cheesy smile he gives you afterward is what convinces you that, no matter what, Rafe will always be yours, and you will always be his.

Tags: @cmrxac

[queenshelby]

A NEW WORLD - PART ONE (UPDATED)

A Quiet Place 2 Fanfic

Pairing: Emmett (A Quiet Place 2) x Fem!Reader

Summary: This story will follow Emmett and the Reader before and after the invasion. Each Part will be about 1,000 to 2,000 words long and take place on a particular day (as listed on each part).

Warning: Mild Smut, Age Gap, Alcohol Abuse, Spoilers for AQP2

***

DAY: 41 DAYS BEFORE THE INVASION

It was a sunny Saturday evening and you were out watching the local baseball match. Your half brother Lucas was playing and, as usual, your mother was unable to take him to the game.

Ever since your step father had passed away two years ago, she became addicted to alcohol, drinking moonshine in the early hours of the morning.

Your younger sister quickly moved out when she turned 18 but you couldn’t leave your step brother behind. He was only 12 years old and too young to care for himself.

Most of your mother’s income support payments were spent on booze and you were fortunate enough that your stepfather’s life insurance payout covered the remainder of the mortgage on the house.

In order to buy food for yourself and your brother, you had to work hard. You’ve been attending an educational program in town to become a midwife and, at the age of 22, you almost completed your studies. Your goal was to move to Georgia with your brother and make a new life for yourself.

But little did you know that life had other plans in store for you, beginning on that particular day, at the baseball game.

***

‘Hey Y/N’ you heard from behind you and you quickly turned your head only to see your colleague’s husband Emmett sit there with his son Max, watching his other son Henry play alongside your brother Lucas.  

‘Oh god Emmett, what happened?’ you asked as you saw his hand covered in bandages.

‘This? It’s nothing. Just a hunting accident’ Emmett explained and you recalled Nora telling you that he had been away for several days with two of his friends causing a major fight between Nora and him.

You haven’t seen Nora since and what she didn’t tell you that day was that, following the fight, she decided to take a break from their marriage.

Nora was your supervisor at the hospital where you were doing your work experience hours and she was rather difficult to deal with whenever she and her husband had a fight. She loved him and he loved her, but in recent months their marriage was going through some ups and downs and you could see that she was obviously needing some time to revaluate matters.

‘Did Nora take a look at it. The bandage needs to be changed. It doesn’t look right Emmett’ you said concerned as you took his hand into yours, evaluating his injury. You had done about three units of nursing before changing over to midwifery in your course.

‘Nora is out of town, visiting her sister’ he explained and you couldn’t help but give Emmett a sorry look. They were fighting again you thought and it had become a frequent occurrence.

‘Perhaps when she comes back, I should look after Henry and Max again for you guys and you can take her out on a date or something’ you suggested. You frequently babysat for Nora and Emmett to make some extra money.

‘The truth is that we are taking a break for now. But, if things change, I would gladly accept your offer’ Emmett smiled and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. In your opinion he was a nice and incredibly attractive man. He was also a fantastic father to Max and this was something you picked up on immediately when you first met him several years ago through Evelyn and Lee whose children you also frequently babysat.

You also knew that Nora and him had met over twenty years ago. They were high school sweethearts. Everyone saw them both as the perfect couple but their relationship was far from being perfect.

Just over a year ago you heard rumours that, about two years ago, Nora had a short-lived affair but Emmett forgave her. He was a family man and valued his marriage. His sons were everything to him and leaving them would never have been option for Emmett.

He was incredible and you found it difficult to admit to yourself that, over the past two years, you were developing a little a crush on him.

***

About an hour later, the game had finished and you suggested to Emmett that he comes to your house so that you could have a look at his hand.

Your house was a short five-minute walk from the baseball field and Emmett agreed reluctantly after you told him that your mother wasn’t home.

He knew what state your mother was in and he would not have exposed his sons to her constant swearing and antics when she was drunk.

When you arrived at your house, Emmett’s sons and your brother went to play outside in the garden with your brother’s new soccer ball which you had bought him for his birthday while you looked through the medicine cabinet to find some more bandages and some betadine.

‘Have you considered admitting her to rehab?’ Emmett asked as he sat down at the kitchen table, besides which was a large plastic box with several empty bottles of spirits.

‘That’s the plan. I want to take Lucas to Georgia as soon as she is in rehab’ you explained as you carefully removed Emmett’s bandage.

‘This will hurt’ you then went on to say before cleaning his wound and applying some betadine.

‘Fuck’ he complained as you were rinsing out the wound and, after you were finally done cleaning it, you placed a fresh bandage over his hand.

‘You need to keep this clean alright?’ you said with your hands still holding on to his hand while you looked at him with a warm smile.

This was the first time you noticed how blue his eyes were, a shade of deep shimmering blue just as the sea and just as the depth of the ocean, you could get lost in them.

‘Thanks’ he nodded, not bothering to pull his hand away from you as you were staring at him.

‘Nora is one lucky woman’ you sighed as you finally collected your thoughts and let go of his hand.

‘Why? Because she finally is getting rid of me?’ Emmett laughed but knowing exactly what you meant.

‘No that’s not what I meant Emmett. In fact, I think she is crazy thinking about leaving a man like you’ you said shyly and with flushed cheeks as you looked down at his hand once again.

‘Right’ Emmett chuckled and, just as he did, you moved one of your hands over his cheeks.

‘Don’t doubt yourself Emmett’ you said before, slowly and tentatively pressing your lips onto his.

He didn’t retract, nor did he pull away as, for a short moment, he allowed the kiss. Your lips were soft and sweet and he couldn’t recall the last time another woman had kissed him.

Eventually, you broke the kiss at your own accord and Emmett looked at you as if he had seen a ghost. He was surprised by your actions and his eyes were full of questions.

‘I am so sorry’ you then shuddered while Emmett was still speechless.

‘I should go now’ he quickly said, unable to even look at you after what had just happened.

‘Emmett?’ you said as he got up from the chair next to yours. ‘I am sorry, really…I shouldn’t have’ you said somewhat flustered.

‘Y/N, it’s fine. Let’s just forget about it, aright?’ he smiled as he ran his hand over your shoulder in the way a friend would.

You nodded just before he left but the truth was that you couldn’t forget about it. This kiss stayed with you for the rest of the day.

***

Just as the evening had arrived and you were sitting in your bed, reading yet another novel you had borrowed from the library, you imagined yourself with Emmett.

This wasn’t right, you thought. You should not be thinking about him the way you did. He was a man twice your age. But you couldn’t help it and your imagination was running wild.

His lips were on yours, his fingers roaming over your body and you simply couldn’t go to sleep that night until you satisfied your needs with the small vibrator you kept in your beside table.

‘God damn Y/N’ your inner voice tried to reason. But you wouldn’t listen to it until you found your release that night which is when, finally, you drifted off to sleep.

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[haikyuuuuuhypeeeee]

Chapter 1

⚠WARNING: Mention of previous character death, swearing, drinking alcohol, brief mention of suicidal thoughts (it's not explicit but one sentence can be interpreted as such)

• ────── ✾ ────── •

No more messages come from the new group chat, and you let your phone slip from your fingers and onto the blankets. You’ve been in your bed since the morning, only able to drag yourself away to use the restroom and even then it was a struggle.

You don’t understand why it hurts so much more on anniversaries. It’s not like every other day is a walk in the park - every single day is agony, living without Hajime. The place where your heart used to sit is now a huge gaping hole, tender and painful to the touch. The first breath you take upon waking up is a painful gasp, remembering that your best friend and one true love is not on this Earth anymore.

But why do the anniversaries hurt so much more? Normally you’re able to exist in society, attend your classes, meet with your therapist and be with your friends. But just because today it’s an even five months that mean you have to suffer more?

You make a weak mental note to ask your therapist about it at your next session. Maybe she can suggest some new techniques or a better way for you to think about it.

But for today you burrow further into your sheets, rest your head on your pillow and try not to think of Hajime.

It lasts less than a minute before you’re pulling your phone back to your face and navigating to the chat you’ve saved. Calling it a chat is generous - it’s more of a diary, a place you can spill your dark secrets and harrowing thoughts. You feel some sort of comfort in this, knowing that you won’t have to worry about someone reading those messages. But that idea also fills you with heavy dread.

Tears pool in your eyes - sadness, frustration, anger, grief. It’s the feelings you’re more than familiar with but they still manage to knock you down.

Why? Why? Why?

A soft sob hitches in your throat but you swallow it down. You’ve already spent your day crying on and off, and not that Hajime isn’t worth the tears but you need to get some water and food in your system.

You find the strength to sit up from your bed and make your way to the kitchen. You ignore the vase of blooming lilies and orchids on your coffee table, a small gift from your parents. Living in a prefecture away from them is less than ideal, especially in your fragile state, but you wanted to stay where you grew up with your friends. They all remained at Sendai University so you followed suit.

Your parents check on you frequently (almost too much for what would be considered normal but your life isn’t normal anymore.) And they’re reassured by the constant support of your friends. And honestly, even though you miss your parents dearly, you’re happy with them not seeing you like this. You don’t have to put on any front or make any attempt to be ok.

And they don’t have to see you make the decision to down the whole bottle of wine in your fridge tonight.

(It’s not the smartest idea you’ve had in a long time, but the bottle is gonna go bad, you pair it with a sleeve of crackers and hey, you’re a fucking adult going through a rough time right now.)

You ceremoniously cheers the air with your bottle. “To Hajime, I miss you.” You sniffle before tipping the bottle to your mouth and taking a long drink. The cool liquid flows through your body and soon enough you let yourself fall back into the pillows.

They’re soft, almost like clouds. You float, seemingly suspended in time.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you wish you could be floating in the clouds with Hajime.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

While the wine gave you a dreamless sleep last night, it also delivered a mean hangover.

“Fuuuuuuck.” You moan as you sit up. It’s a mistake straight away, and you slowly ease yourself back down. Your stomach is screaming in protest and your head feels like it’s been split in two.

“Jesus Christ,” you swear to yourself. Why in the world did you drink a whole GD bottom of wine?? You knew this would happen, you freaking knew it. But it didn’t stop you from being an idiot.

You wave your hand in the air as if to dispel the nagging voice in your head. You take another second to steel yourself before sitting up, your movements slow and cautious. It’s an easier maneuver than before, but it’s still not great.

As you’re still adjusting to being upright, a chainsaw noise in your room makes you jump and clutch your head.

“Arrrggghhhhhhh!” Of course it’s not an actual chainsaw but your hearing is amplified in your weakened state. And not amplified in the way that gives you superhuman powers - the exact opposite, actually.

You lilt to the side to grab your phone before dragging yourself upright again. God damn, I’m never drinking again, you think to yourself before unlocking your phone to check the messages.

You set your phone down without replying to the group chat. Mattsun and Makki are right about Oikawa messaging way too early for lunch. He can live without a reply from you.

But you won’t be able to wait too long, lest Oikawa comes to your apartment and knocks your door down. It’s his default as a compassionate but hard-headed individual. Even before Hajime’s passing Oikawa would be the one to mother them all. He would aggressively shovel food in you or your friend’s mouths while berating you for forgetting lunch, or wrap you in his coat so tight that you couldn’t breathe but it instantly stopped you shivering.

Since Hajime’s passing Oikawa had definitely upped his mothering tendencies but the balance between nurturing and aggression was out of whack. It was fine on some days, like the time that someone had yelled at Makki for bumping into him which ended with Oikawa being dragged away by you and Mattsun screaming at the pale-faced stranger. But it was less than ideal on other days, like today.

Messages sent rapid fire, each with a building passive-aggression that your hungover brain doesn’t want to handle today, are now the norm with Oikawa.

But you handle it, and him, because you know he’s hurting right now. And if this is his way of coping then so be it.

You are about to unlock your phone to reply and cease his badgering, but a message comes through that makes you freeze.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: The very first chapter of this story! Just a note that this is not a full SMAU, there will be a good amount of written content throughout the story. It's difficult to convey the intense emotions our characters will be experiencing solely through text. If that's not your jam this story may not be for you. Thank you so much for reading!

Taglist Open! Please send an Ask with the request to be added to It’s [Not] Okay Fic & SMAU (bold cannot be tagged): @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @roro-707 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @cerealfrdinner797 @ara-mitsue @gray-444 @tanakasimpcorner @rintarovibes @jellien

[thekingdomofelfhame]

Jurdan Fanfic: Highschool AU Part 1

Summary: Much to Jude's annoyance and surprise, she and Cardan have been paired for a school project. Cardan's feelings, on the other hand, continue to blossom when he arrives at Jude's apartment only to witness something beyond his comprehension.

Warnings: Mild cursing

This will be an alternative between Cardan and Jude POV just to get a good look at how their feelings develop.

Cardan POV:

She keeps staring at the ring enclosing her finger, her gaze never shifting to the notes scattered on her dressing, her walnut eyes intense with emotion. She kept humming the same tune over and over, her voice as smooth and soft as butter as she traced invisible patterns on her ruby studded ring, its bright red colour magnifying the beauty of her hand.

I had never seen her like this: bursting with emotions. Standing before me was the same girl who lived in impenetrable walls, walls that I had been trying to overcome only to lead us down a path of hatred. She was the girl of steel, no titanium, and yet she melted away like snow in early spring when no one was around.

Her voice echoes in the room which-surprise, surprise- is a mess of pillows and papers. This girl had been haunting my dreams since sophomore year but my foolish imaginations were nothing compared to the beauty that stood before me and when she starts vocalizing, I swear my heart skips a beat.

As she turns to pick up her phone, her eyes find mine and I am robbed of the melodious voice that had filled this room a few seconds ago. I am pretty sure I see her eyes swimming in tears but she immediately blinks them away. She has trained herself well.

I hadn't even realized she was in her bathrobe until she stopped singing and am left with her perfectly masked yet startled cuteness when she becomes aware of her current state.

"Why'd you stop?" I say clearly disappointed, "your voice is beautiful"

"Weren't you supposed to be here at 11 30?", she says completely ignoring what I just said, tightening her robe around her.

"I clearly said I'd be at your place by 11", my eyes skim over her robe and am pleased to see her cheeks flush with colour as I say, "maybe I'll make a habit of coming early"

"How'd you even get in?"

"Your roommate let me in and, oh, she told me to inform you that she will be staying with her boyfriend for a while"

"Wow. She and Van are really speeding things up", there a short pause that feels like eternity before she says, "Okay, now could you go wait in the lounge while I get ready?", she says and something tells me she is not asking. Though I would very much prefer to stay, I obey her orders for she is The Queen of my heart.

Jude POV:

I walk out of the room, no longer dripping, and am utterly surprised to find Cardan lounging on the white sofa, one of his legs draped over the arm rest. He looks...comfy.

I think about the way he was looking at me in awe when I found him leaning against my door, his dark black eyes peering into mine. I had never seen him so captivated. How long had he been standing there?

Your voice is beautiful...

His words ring in my ears and I can't help the faint pink rising on my neck. Cardan Greenbriar had complimented me; that was a first. I was surprised he didn't make fun of me just like he has been since the day I set foot into school. He didn't mock me as he usually would, seeing my emotional outburst. This was Cardan Greenbriar, the most spoiled rich kid who never gave a fuck about anyone.

I had never once let anyone past my defenses, not even my family, foster or not. No one knew about this small world of mine and I liked to keep it that way. That is, until today when I saw a pair of iridescent coal black eyes bewitching me into wanting to tell him everything about this tiny world I had created where I would doze off to whenever I wished. That was when reality hit me and I was reminded of why I had lived in an armour for so long, why I had never let anyone get close to me.

I snap out of my thoughts when Cardan interrupts, "Like what you see, huh?". I scoff and I didn't realize I had been staring at him as he further added, "Should we get on with the project or are you gonna stand there all day, thinking about me?"

"Asshole. You wish", I snap right back at him and he lets out a soft laugh as I go through his notes.

We had agreed on double-checking each other's notes before we started the project, and by the looks of it, we had a lot of work to do. Surprisingly, Cardan's notes were not only correct and authentic, they were thorough and much more organized than mine. He had even used fancy words like serendipity- I mean what does that even mean?

"Jude, I think some of your notes are missing", he says raising his black brows and a book with torn pages.

"Oh, yeah. The torn notes are in a green file right over there", I gesture to the stack of books behind him as he leans over to find it only to frustrate me further when he says, "Uh, Jude. There is no file here".

"It should be there. It cannot go anywhere", I stand up and walk towards the mountain of books.

That was when I realized my foot is asleep and I stumble over a book, covering my face with my hands, ready for impact. Only I don't hit the ground; instead I feel arms slide around my waist and when I remove my hands from my face, the first thing I see are Cardan's eyes partially covered by his black locks.

I almost get lost in the moment. The world stops when he runs his hand through his hair as if he is nervous and he stares back at me. That is, until I remember who he is.

Ughhh....

"Looks like you're falling for me, Jude", he teases.

I abruptly push him off of me and start looking for the notes. Despite my foot still being asleep, I try to walk as if nothing happened but the bastard still notices.

"Here. Let me help you", he reaches for my hand but I stop him with a gesture and he does.

Looks like my defiance all these years really did have an effect on him.

"If you want to help, start by looking for a green file. It is unlabeled, no fancy decorations what so ever"

"What else to expect from the boring Jude Duarte"

"Well, at least I am not like one of those stupid girls who are so easily charmed by you"

"Did you just say I am charming?"

"Fuck off"

"Okay, okay", he raises his arms in defeat and I go to my room to look for the file. My eyes shift to the scattered notes over my bed and my dressing and my carpet.

Shit.

This is going to take longer than I thought.

Cardan POV

As I search through her notes, my thoughts keep drifting to the moment I had her in my arms, her body fitting right into my hands. I battled with the urge to get lost in her deep brown eyes or to drop a kiss on her cute nose.

No, no, no. Stop.

Wine. I needed wine. I needed wine right now.

Jude hated me and I should hate her. She was the one person who had refused to let me get my way and would continue to do so. She could never want someone like me, let alone love. This was just a project and as soon as it would finish, we would go our separate ways.

And yet, I cannot help but think about her all the time.

Jude POV

I return to the lounge drenched in sweat, panting and gasping for air. I had been rummaging in my room for the past hour and had finally found that file.

I slam the file onto Cardan's face and he doesn't dare reply when he sees my tired state. I sink into the sofa, one hand covering my eyes the other blindly searching for the glass of water on the front table.

"What happened to you?", Cardan asks as I open my eyes to find him completely shocked but instead of answering him, I gesture towards the file while gulping down my third glass of water.

"Let's continue. I don't want to waste any more time", my voice is dry as I open my laptop to start typing in the outline and he continues to examine my notes.

"God, your handwriting is horrible", his voice is filled with surprise as he brings one of the papers closer to those haunting, dazzling eyes to get a better look but gives in and throws it back onto the table.

"If you can't read it, why don't you make me something to eat instead?", I say robotically while looking at my screen and had not expected him to actually go to the kitchen in search for food.

My eyebrows furrow together as I walk up to him and say, "I was joking! Come on, we gotta get this done"

"I know you were joking and I know we have to this done but I am hungry and if you are not going to ask me then I am going to make myself", he complains as he looks around, opening cabinets and drawers.

"I didn't know you could cook", I say clearly perplexed by his actions.

"There are many things you do not know about me, Duarte", he continues his search and when I have had enough of his noise I say, "Stop! Okay, stop making noise! God, it's like raising a child or something", I grab the spatula from his hands but he takes it back saying, "Well, I am hungry and I can't work when I am hungry and by looking at you, you should be too"

As much as I would hate to admit it, I was hungry and I felt like I hadn't eaten in ages.

"Fine, you cook and I am going to take a break and watch some Netflix", I say right before telling him about where I keep the food and where the utensils are.

"One more question. Should I make sandwiches or hotdogs?"

"Lilliver usually does the cooking so, whatever you want", I turn on the television and continue to watch Shadow and Bone, each episode more intriguing than the last.

I hadn't realized an hour had passed when Cardan came with sandwiches.

The room is suddenly filled with the smell of freshly made sandwiches and that does nothing to satiate my hunger as I reach out for the dish set in front of me but Cardan quickly grabs the dish before I can get my hands on a sandwich.

"Patience is a virtue, dear Jude", Cardan says raising a long slender finger in the air.

"First of all, never and I mean NEVER call me dear", I glare at him as I grab the dish back, careful not to break it, "And you took so long making sandwiches that I got hungry"

I take a bite of the sandwich and if I am being honest, I had never tasted such sandwiches in my life and Cardan must have noticed me and my increasing craving for his delicious sandwiches that only seemed to make my hunger more insatiable when he said, "Either you like them", he gestured towards the half-bitten sandwich and its cheese dripping from the side of my mouth, "or you haven't eaten all day"

"Hmm. Yeah, I think it is the latter", I lie through my teeth with ease as I take a second one into my mouth.

I would never compliment him to his face, especially since I don't want him spreading the story in school.

"Why are you acting like this?", I ask out of nowhere before I can even process what I just said out loud.

"Like what?", he asks dumfounded

"I don't know, you seem a bit more... tolerable, I guess", my voice almost drops to a whisper as I stare at my third sandwich, suddenly looking for something more interesting in a piece of food that would soon be in my mouth.

He doesn't answer but I am able to see his mood shift as his body language completely changes and his muscles become more stiff. His pupils become dilated and he looks every bit as horrifying as he did when he once threw dust into my food after I had punched him.

All of a sudden, I regret what I had said and cursed my stupid mouth for opening itself.

We don't speak to each other for the rest of the night and though I hated Cardan with all that I had, one small part of me felt that there was more to this person, that he was more than just a bully and that I had missed an opportunity to get to know the real him.

Let me know if you wanna be tagged! Also, I will now on follow a policy of following back those who follow me, just to spread a bit of kindness!!

Taglist: @wanderingpages​ @thatrandomfangirlll​ @slightlyrebelliouswriter23​ @acourtofhearts @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @aesthetics-11 @angelpaulene @annihliation @anyaskywalker23 @ashlightgrayson @augustintodarkness @awkward-avacado-s @babycardan @beholdyourqueen1 @booklover-sleeplover @booksandothersecrets @booksofthemoon @b00kworm @cabeswater-and-camaros @cardaans @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @cardanslittletail @cardanstrickytail @courtofjurdan @feysand-babies @firestarsandseneschals @fizziefaerie  @highladyofthefangirlcourt @highqueenjudeduarte @hizqueen4life @hoegreenbrair @hopefullyanauthor @hurema @iammissstark  @im-wintermelody @iminsanenotobsessed @ireallyshouldsleeprn @jessacarstairs @judiecardan @junipersuns@jurdanhell @justtryintolivemybestlife @jyoti96 @katexrenee @katsemkitgostadetog @kevin-day-is-bi @kingandfireheart @kittkatandbooboo @knifewifejude @lady-thea-of-narnia @larrysaturn @leaff-life @lemon-check @life-in-black-lines @lifeminuspickles @livelovereading123 @localgoof @lordoftermites @greenbriarxrose @queenofbunnies13 @fanficreader435 @nightspeckle @thewickedkings @the-cruel-prince-cardan @myqueenjudeduarte @florafey

[spideytingle616]

Five Months [5]

Part 4 / Masterlist

*based on the five stages of grief*

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female Reader

Warnings: angst, death, mentions of anxiety/panic, possible implications of sexual activity, blood/injury, swearing

Summary: The first time you touch your soulmate, you’re able to see a glimpse into your future. What happens if your future is also your end?

Word Count: 12.7k wow wow (bold and italics are thoughts, scenes following a +++ are a flashback)

A/N: Thank you all who have read this story! I have had this planed for almost a year, and I’m so happy it actually became a thing, though I apologize for taking so damn long with this part. I hope you enjoy. This chapter features a lot of flashbacks, so buckle up.

Chapter Description: Maybe the universe isn’t so bad…

Month Five, Acceptance: Love, and Never Forget

A new day. A new month. A new semester.

The subway ride feels extra bumpy today, most likely due to the large pit in your stomach. Going to school is never something you looked forward to, but when you got there, someone was usually waiting for you.

Someone that made the grueling day a little easier.

You sigh and slump into your seat. How does a train full of people make you feel so alone?

A completely different person could be seen in your window reflection. Or maybe you were just so numb at this point, your body was nothing but luggage you were simply dragging along.

Fuck, you were exhausted. Beyond the undereye bags and the dry hair, your frame looked like it was ready to buckle down and rest. It was already curling in, prepared to do so when given the chance. Your eyes shut tight as you clenched your fists, trying your best to quiet the anxiety that flowed through your body.

When you open your eyes, you look at your reflection one more time, ignoring the cold stare that met your own. The world keeps going, and so should you.

Everything was more or less the same at Midtown. People were alert after their long break, but they still dreaded the upcoming classes. Friends were reuniting with one another and chatting, and everything seemed normal.

But it wasn’t, at least not for you.

You close your locker, and as you turned away from the wall you were met with familiar faces coming your way. The two friends kept looking at one another as they walked toward you, and it was clear that they felt unsure about approaching.

It wasn’t like you were purposely avoiding them, so to speak. But their worried texts were plentiful, and with everything that has happened, you pushed away from their coddling. Your responses were short, usually, something along the lines of “I’m fine” and “doing good”. Whether or not they trusted that you weren’t sure, but it kept them off your tail long enough for the time being.

Fake it till you make it, right?

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” you joke, opening your arms wide. “Come here.”

MJ and Ned smile at the gesture, quickly accepting the hug. It was definitely something all of you needed. You buried your face into their shoulders, happy to be with them again. Guilt pooled in your chest.

“I missed you guys… and I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting” you sigh.

MJ tightens her grip on you, snuggling her face closer to yours. “It’s okay. We get it. We were just worried is all.”

“Still, it was selfish of me to do.” You pull away, looking between the two. “This whole thing is not just about me. I should have been there for you guys too instead of pushing myself away.”

“Well, we’re here now. Whenever you’re ready, to talk or hang out, we’ll be there.” Ned offers, and a smile reaches your face.

God, your friends were amazing. You couldn’t bear to hurt them even more with your doom and gloom. They deserved someone that would be there for them and listen to their concerns, instead of hiding in their own pool of guilt.

You quickly shake your head before speaking. “Thanks, I think I’m gonna be okay, though. If you guys need more time that’s totally fine, but I’m good. Nothing has to be weird between all of us, we can just hang out like old times, you know?”

Your friends glance at one another, their eyebrows pulled slightly tighter.

“Well, if that’s how you feel, then I’m glad,” Ned says, looking back at MJ for reassurance. “But you know, it’s totally cool if you still need time. After all, it’s been a rough month.”

You bite your tongue back from replying, your jaw suddenly tense.

Yeah, no shit…

+++

He’s gone.

Oh my god he’s gone.

He’s actually dead.

If someone came and ripped your heart out of your chest, it would be painless compared to how you felt now. You continued to stare at Peter even after his eyes closed. If you continued to look at him, maybe you could still pretend that he was alive.

When the police showed, everything was a daze. The flashes of red and blue sirens drew a queasiness deep in your stomach. As the officers forced you to let go of the boy, their voices muddled into the air. You felt completely disassociated from the scene in front of you, and all you wanted to be held in Peter’s arms. There, you could pretend that everything was okay.

“They’re still breathing!”

The shout draws you back into current time, their words shooting a current throughout your body. It couldn’t be…

“Airways are clear, but his respiratory rate is dropping. Get him on the stretcher now. Don’t let him go into shock.”

Were you hearing all this right? Too many things were happening right now, and no one bothered to tell you anything. The police were pushing you away from the scene as if you were a random pedestrian, and you were ready to grab them by the throat and scream at them. When you see Peter getting lifted into the ambulance, his suit now more red than blue, that was the last straw.

You push your way through toward the paramedics. If they were taking him, you were going too. You were right behind the red and white doors before a hard shove comes to your chest, stopping you from coming any closer.

“Excuse me miss, this is private business,” what looked like an EMT said. “Stark Industries does not want anyone seeing this. I’m going to have to ask you to go back with the crowd.”

You stare dumbfounded; at least Ned was able to get a hold of him, but the fact that they were acting as if you weren’t a witness and Peter’s friend angered you even more. “No, you don’t get it, that’s my friend in there. I- I need to be with him if he’s still alive. Please I-“

“Look, as much as I’d like to believe that we were not told anything about other parties being involved. So, to keep this under wraps, we cannot let you ride with us. If you actually do know the patient, you can follow us and figure out your clearance there,” they finalize before walking away and jumping into the vehicle. You don’t even get a chance to breathe before they’re gone, and the only remnant of Peter was the stain on the street.

The EMT did have a point. If you wanted to keep Spider-Man’s identity a secret, you couldn’t draw attention to yourself. Slipping under the newly posted yellow tape, you’re swallowed into the shadows before the police even notice.

Now here you were, in a dirty subway car at ten in the evening. Being a teenage girl, this situation would normally terrify you (Seriously guys, no means no. Why are you even near us to begin with?), but luckily the murder scene on your dress and the hollow glare in your eyes drove most passengers away from you.

Staring into space, your brain tries to process everything that just happened in the past hour. You sprinted across the city to find your dying soulmate, only to find out he isn’t dead? Or at least, not yet. Based on his current state, it could still go either way.

Shouldn’t you be feeling hopeful? Or at least some sort of relief knowing that Peter has a chance? Your body internally cringes at the idea. Getting your hopes up wasn’t great; part of you always hoped for a happy ending with Peter and look where that got you.

All you could feel was dread, and it wasn’t much better than the heartbreak prior.

The car slows down as the rest of the passengers stand and walk toward the doors, but not without giving you a worrisome stare. You ignore their eyes as they pass by; you couldn’t care less about what they thought.

You look down at your hands and focus on blood caked under your nails, trying to rub the residue away. Some looked like it came off, but the red-brown still pigmented your skin. Chest tightening, you lean back in your seat and let your head knock back.

Peter’s blood was on your hands, both figuratively and literally.

---

A chill travels through your spine, bile working its way upward.

Was that really only a month ago?

The bell sounds, its ringing bringing you more despair than usual. Your conversation was brought to an end, MJ and Ned giving you a nod to signal their departure. They forced a smile your way, and you keep your calm composure even after they turn away.

Pulling the straps of your backpack closer, you take a deep breath before walking to class.

---

“First order of business: team captain. Miss Allan’s parting was unfortunate, but both she and I believe this team will do amazing at the international competition this summer. We just need a new captain.”

“Mr. Harrington, I’m honored-“

“Not you, Flash.”

You and Ned snicker under your breaths, earning your partner an elbow from Betty. MJ rolls her eyes at the two of you, but her smile gave away her amusement.

Decathlon was supposed to be done for the school year, but your team’s win at D.C. earned Midtown a spot at its international competition in Paris. You didn’t expect the school board to approve the trip, especially with the large expenses it ensued. But apparently, they found an anonymous donor.  

Though no one could figure out who would willingly spend tens of thousands of dollars for a kids’ trip to Europe, no one was complaining either, especially when they were paying to include an actual vacation with it. As ecstatic as everyone was about the opportunity, it also meant that you would soon be back to frequent practices. And as much as you enjoy this club, more work is never fun.

“After careful consideration of each of your prior performances, I’m happy to announce that our new captain will be none other than Michelle Jones.”

Harrington continued his announcements, but you already stopped paying attention. You nudge MJ after the scattered applause, mouth still agape.

“You didn’t tell me you were gonna be captain. Congrats!” you whispered.

“Well, to be honest, I didn’t know until just now. But I would have been pissed if I wasn’t.”

“And I would’ve had to listen to you complain about it, so it’s a win-win… can your first order be to rearrange the seating? I love Cindy, but sometimes she smells after gym.”

MJ scoffs. “Done, but it’s your fault if this all goes to my head.”

“Oh, I think it already has,”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Just be quiet so I can listen.”

You roll your eyes as you let her turn away from you, grabbing your phone in the process.

You: Guess who the new captain is…

Liz: It better be MJ, I put in a good word for her and everything

You: It is lol. Good choice by the way, she’ll probably be a better captain than you

Liz: whatever 🙄

In the past month since she moved, the two of you found comfort in one another. Both of you fell in the direct line of fire, and as brutal as that was, it also meant that you weren’t alone.

+++

Lately, it seemed that your timing was nothing if not impeccable.

You speed walk to the cafeteria, breath getting heavier with each step. You’re usually one of the first in there, trying your best to beat the rush of students, but you just had to go to the bathroom beforehand. Amateur move, honestly…

Once you turn the corner, you stop in your tracks. Just ahead was Liz and her mom, both with boxes in hand. Her mom takes a right, most likely heading toward the office. All that was left was you and her, and the ten feet of tile in between.

“Hey,” you call out, gaining her attention. A tint of regret coats the air around you as you walk closer.

Where do you start, after everything that has happened?

“Liz, hey. What’s up?”

“Oh, hey. Nothing much, I’m just packing things from my locker and whatnot. My mom’s grabbing my file from the office, and after that we should be good, or whatever.” She sighs, looking down at her things.

“Wait, packing? Are you… are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah, my dad doesn’t want us to see him in trial. We’re moving all the way to Oregon tomorrow. My mom has family there… nice area apparently, or whatever,” She purses her lips. “New York allows prisoners to call as often as they want, so no worries there, plus I’m all set for college so I can more or less breeze through senior year.”

You nod. Though you suppose the situation could have been worse, it was evident that Liz was hiding all the struggles she just got handed. Maybe if you were closer, you’d be able to comfort her, or tell her what she needed to hear.

“Liz, you’ve probably gotten this a lot, but I’m really sorry about what went down. I can’t even imagine what that’s like.”

There’s a pause before she finds your face again. “I think you do though. Maybe not exactly the same as me, but you were part of this too.”

You tilt your head, confused at her words. Setting her things down, she slings her backpack around to her front, unzipping it to find what she was looking for. “Peter left this in my dad’s car, but something tells me it was meant for someone else. It’s a little wilted now, but I still think it looks nice.”

In her hand was the rose that Peter had the night of the homecoming dance. You were so annoyed when you saw it. However, this time was different. You were not sure what you felt, but you were grateful nonetheless.

You take the flower from her, admiring the purple-red petals. Underneath, a card was tied around:

A rose for a rose.

You might not be my date, but can I SWING BY for a dance?

You let out a quiet scoff. If the pun didn’t give it away, the web doodles might have.

“You think I would’ve figured it out sooner,” Liz shrugged.

“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t realize until it was right in front of my face," you joked back, earning a smile.

“I won’t tell anyone, by the way. He was just trying to do the right thing, and it’s not my secret to tell anyways.”

You nod at the gesture, relieved that things were not getting any messier. Not as much as they could, at least.

“I’m sorry too by the way…” she starts. “if I got in the way of you and Peter.”

You shake your head. “No no, it’s fine. Really. That was Peter’s choice to do that. I even told you we weren’t soulmates, so…“

“Yeah, well, I could tell that wasn’t the whole truth. Or at least, I couldn’t believe that it was the truth.” When you don’t reply, she continues on. “Obviously, I don’t know the whole story, or maybe even half of it, but almost everyone thought you two were soulmates before you even said anything. That’s gotta mean something, right?”

You pause for a moment. For someone who was only two years older, she was a lot wiser than you imagined. “Yeah, maybe it does… I don’t know, it’s just so complicated, you know?”

“I can only imagine.” She offers a smile. “But assuming he’s okay, wherever he is, I think it’d be a lot less complicated if you were in it together.”

With that, the conversation seemed to be over. You both knew that you weren’t really friends, but there was still a connection there. What happened homecoming night created a bond between you, a burning ember in a pile of ash. Everything died down, but there are still remnants that continued to burn.

If you guys chose to, you could let that memory die with the rest of the fire. But you could also choose to keep it alive and learn something from it.

Liz clears her throat, breaking the silence. “Looks like my mom’s ready, so I should go catch up. Thanks for saying goodbye.”

“Well, thanks for the mini therapy session. Hopefully, Oregon treats you better. If you wanna, you can text me once you’re all settled. We can talk, or whatever you want, really. Doesn’t even have to be about this.”

Her eyes light up at the offer, surprised at the generosity. “Yeah. I’d really like that. Thanks.”

You watch as she grabs her stuff from the floor and walk down the hall. The two of you send each other one last wave before parting ways, but you don’t move from your spot. Not until she was fully out of sight.

When she’s completely gone, you think about her words again. Maybe it would be easier.

Or maybe it’s just a faster route to trouble.

---

“You, me, Catacombs of Paris. It’s been on my list for years, and we are not missing out on that.” MJ declares, interrupting your daze. You didn’t even realize the meeting was over, most of the group already filing out of the library. “Jeez, how deep was your conversation with your pen pal? You look like you just woke up.”

You huff as you stood up from your seat. “How do you even know it’s her? Could’ve been my mom checking up on me.”

“Well, whenever you and Liz text, which is pretty regularly now, you get that weird crease between your eyebrows, and something tells me you’re not thinking that hard when you’re answering, ‘how are you’ from your parents.”

“You know, I think someone’s a little jealous that I have other girl friends to talk to.” You joke, checking her shoulder. “Any other creepy spots you’re forcing me to go to?”

Your friend’s face lights up, relishing at the opportunity to talk about her interests. You knew she had hours' worth of knowledge on the subject, and it gave you the chance to avoid talking about yourself. It wasn’t easy to distract MJ, but you had your ways.

It was easy to distract yourself from your current situation with Liz. After all, she was more or less doing the same thing. Your relationship was symbiotic; One of you would talk about your problems so the other could take their focus away from theirs, and vice versa. Mutual therapy, as you both called it.

The bonding made you feel safe. You made a friend and found someone that would need time to heal too.

At least, that’s what you thought.

For the last few conversations or so, the tone has taken a rather lighthearted turn. Liz started her new semester at Oregon a week earlier than Midtown, and she was already coming for the title of Ms. Popular. Though, with her being a hot, new senior, you shouldn’t have been surprised.

She was using her mom’s name for more privacy and was basically starting fresh. Liz even said she could still go to NYU if things died down after the trial. You were ecstatic for her, of course. She was incredibly strong for taking her life into her own hands and making the best of what happened, yet deep down you still couldn’t help but feel frustrated. In the end, even the people that have it worse still find ways to turn it around.

Your stomach turns. Maybe it wasn’t time that was the issue.

Maybe it was you.

---

Life’s kind of funny. Less than a year ago, you thought meeting the Avengers would be impossible. The only time you ever saw them was on the news or some badly edited PSA. For you, they seemed more fictional rather than real.

Now here you were, in the same car that Tony freaking Stark uses, being driven to the one and only Avengers Facility.

Despite the news about the Sokovia Accords, and the infamous “Civil War”, as they coined it, the building continued to stand tall and proud. The squeaky-clean windows and trimmed hedges were simply another reminder of how this lifestyle was beyond you.

Peter has been staying here for the past few weeks so the doctors could track his progress in private. With his mutated DNA and dangerous alien technology, they wanted to make sure there was not any permanent damage to his systems. Though this caused him to miss the rest of the semester, he knew it was for the best.

Despite taking a nasty hit, his super healing got him back on his feet, more or less. Just a few hours of physical therapy and some tests were enough to get Peter back to full mobility. However, he was still advised by the doctors to take things slow. Just because he could move doesn’t mean he should so soon.

This was the fourth or so trip here, yet every visit still felt like the first. All of this was so overwhelming, but you try not to let it show as you walk through the glass door. When you couldn’t find Peter in his room, your panic started to become visible.

Finding one guy in a 300,000 square foot building? How hard could it be?

Answer: not impossible, but still rather embarrassing.

After a few wrong turns here and there, you eventually made it to what seemed to be your destination. You wound up in a gym twice the size of your school’s. It had every piece of equipment one could need to train for a life-or-death mission, and you were struck with awe once again.

Your attention quickly focuses on the sounds of leather on leather. Across the gym was a boxing ring, holding none other than Tony Stark and your best friend.

The two didn’t notice you yet, so you took your time heading closer. Peter was in deep focus, his grey shirt tightening around him every time he threw a punch. Sweat covered the top half of the fabric as his curls brushed his forehead, and you could feel your throat drying up at his appearance.

You would have shown up earlier all those other times if you meant you got to see this…

“Y/N! Hey!” Peter greets when he finally sees you. “Sorry, I should’ve texted you that I was still in here. Guess I lost track of time.”

You wave it off. “Don’t worry about it. Looked like you were doing some good work.”

“Yeah, I sure hope so. Did you know the only fighting knowledge he had before this was from movies?” Tony interrupted, pointing a glove at the guilty party.

“Hey c’mon, Rocky is a solid resource,” He defended. “You ever seen it?”

The billionaire paused, mentally going through the five stages of grief. “Yeah kid, I think we’re done here. He’s all yours.”

“Sounds good,” You respond, turning back to Peter. “Something tells me you might need to freshen up before we start studying, so I’ll just meet you in your room. If I can find it, that is…”

The boy nods, feeling extra gross and sticky now that you brought it up. You send the two a small wave before walking out of the gym, trying your best to retrace your steps. Peter watches you until you vanish, to which Tony raises an eyebrow.

Maybe it was just him, but the spiderling was rather obvious with his emotions.

“Normally I’d say, ‘don’t do anything I wouldn’t do’, but clearly you don’t listen to that,” He says, snapping Peter back into reality. “Just keep it in your room, alright? Last thing I need is to spray this whole place with disinfectant.”

Peter’s mouth parts, slightly uncomfortable at his mentor’s words. “What? No, it’s not like that at all. She’s just helping me with all the schoolwork I’ve missed.”

Tony immediately stops, punching pads half on. “That- that’s it? You get a second chance at life, and all you’re doing is studying?”

He shrugs. “Well, you know, I haven’t taken my finals yet-“

“Finals that you can pass if you just study the night before like a normal kid.” He walks closer to Peter. “You escape the jaws of death and the one thing you want to do is study? What happened to you teenagers and wanting to ‘live a little’?” He mumbles the last part, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t use this experience as an excuse to shy away. I’m not saying go off and be reckless, but at least have a little fun, yeah? Do what you want.”

From one man who had a near-death experience (or several) to another, maybe he had a point. But then again, if you try to sacrifice yourself multiple times, you must be more than okay with the thought of leaving this world and the people you care about.

Tony finally finishes packing up, while Peter was still in the ring, contemplating.

“She’s a good one,” he shouts to the boy, getting his attention. “Might even like her more than you.” He pauses, realizing how that sounded. “No offense, of course.”

The boy’s face sours as Tony keeps walking. “Some taken… oh and hey! I know it was you that paid for the Europe trip!”

“Nope! Wrong billionaire!” He swings the door open, turning around to look at Peter. “But uh, I think there’s a light festival the same weekend you’re in Prague. You should check it out.”

“Uh-huh…” he grins, playing along.

+++

Thanks to his powers, Peter’s hands always got extra sticky when he was nervous. So, when Mr. Stark called him to come to his office a week or so after the incident, he tried his best to keep his hands to himself.

“Hey, Mr. Stark. You wanted to see me or something?” he asked, awkwardly shuffling through the door.

Tony looks up from his phone and nods at Peter. “Kid, hey. How you feelin’?”

“Oh, well I’m actually doing pretty goo-“

“That’s great,” Tony interrupts. “Anyways, here you go.”

He slides a paper bag toward the boy, to which Peter responds by checking his surroundings. Was this a test? Because there are some major drug deal vibes happening right now.

“What the heck are you doing, kid? Just take the damn bag.”

Peter snaps back to the man and quickly snatches it off the desk. He peeks inside and is shocked when he sees the bright red and blue suit. He clutches the bag closer, afraid it would be stripped away from him a second time.

“You- you’re giving it back to me?” Peter grins.

“Well, it didn’t really teach you anything when I took it away, so I might as well just give it back. Plus, your other one looks ridiculous compared to this.”

His smile falls a little, and Tony quickly backtracks for clarification.

“What I mean is that you did good work. I didn’t believe in you after the ferry incident, but you were determined. You followed your heart and ended up catching the guy. However, you also ended up getting shish kabobbed and almost died, which isn’t as good.” Stark mumbles the last part, getting a little off track. “I told you before that if something happened to you, that it would be on me. But if you won’t listen to me then… I guess I have to mentor you, and make sure you know what you’re doing.”

Peter’s eyes widen. “As in…”

“Training every morning. We can practice using all your suit’s abilities along with combat in case you’re stuck without it. We’ll track your health and progress to make sure you’re not pushing it. Last thing we need is you showing off and hurting yourself.”

“Yeah, got it.” He replies, mouth agape. “I- thank you, Mr. Stark.”

He couldn’t believe it. This was all happening so fast. A few days ago, he thought he was supposed to be dead on the sidewalk. Now, everything seemed to be going well. Maybe too well? How was Mr. Stark so calm about it?

“Well, to be honest, you shouldn’t be thanking me. It was your girlfriend that pretty much convinced me to do this. Y/N or something?”

He cocks his head. “Wait, Y/N? What do you mean?”

“We met at the hospital when you were under surgery.” He shrugs. “Kept telling me how you were a good kid who was going to help the city at all costs, that you were soulmates and this was doomed to happen, you should get another chance, etcetera etcetera,” He dismisses with his hands. “It was pretty moving, really. She really believes in you, so I thought I should do the same.”

Peter tries to keep a neutral face, but this information made his mind go even faster than before. You never mentioned that you met Mr. Stark, much less had an actual conversation with him. With all the crap he’s pulled on you, you still said all that. And to an Avenger, no less.

He doesn’t comment about Mr. Stark’s confession, only giving him another thanks followed with a goodbye. From the looks of it, Tony was rather done with the conversation anyways. He leaves as awkwardly as he came in.

As Peter walks back to his room, he notices the air around him feels lighter. Fresher, even. He smiles at the thought.

For the first time, in a very long time, Peter was optimistic for the future.

---

Never mind, maybe he should have died that night.

Studying was a far worse punishment.

Peter groans and buries his face deeper into his pillow, a string of obscenities following shortly after. You turn and frown at the sight. Sure, you weren’t any better during finals week, but this was just sad.

“C’mon dude,” you said as you shook his shoulder. “Get up. We’re almost done with this.”

He groans louder at your comment. “Too much work. Math isn’t even real.”

You shake your head in amusement. “Yeah okay. Tell that to Gonzales, I’m sure you’ll keep your number two spot after that.” You snort, not registering Peter’s shock as he propped himself up.

“Two? Don’t you mean one?”

Shit. “I mean, not exactly. Finals week happened a little bit ago. Grades change, you know?”

“Okay…” He gives you a look. “Well, then who scored high enough to beat me?”

Your lips tighten, but your silence, in turn, answers his question.

“No…” Peter realizes. “You- no….”

“Pete-“

“You’re first now? You took my freaking spot?”

Your mouth hangs open trying to think of a proper response and your friend scoffs. “Wow,” he says, shaking his head. “After all this time, I didn’t realize my best friend would become my enemy. Now I actually have to try.”

“Ouch. A nice congrats or something would have been nice, you know,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “Whatever, at least I’m being nice and trying to help.”

“Help? Or sabotage?” Peter smirks, sitting up. Stiff from his previous meltdown position, he clasps his hands together and stretches his arms upward. He doesn’t get very far before he flinches back down, hands now gripping his side as he quietly whimpers.

You immediately assume the worst as you turn closer to Peter, but he shakes his head, a sign telling you it’s nothing serious. He takes a few more deep breaths before looking at you, now sheepish.

“Sorry bout that. I think I overdid today,” he explained, gently rubbing his abdomen.

“Peter…” you pout. “Thought the whole point of you being here was so that you wouldn’t overdo it.”

“Yeah yeah, I know. I didn’t think a late-night workout would cause too much trouble,” he says, and your eyebrows furrow, disappointment evident. Peter slumps further down, throwing his hands up. “I won’t do it again, okay? It’s my last weekend here, anyways. I’ll take it easy for the next few days. Promise.” He then offers his pinkie to you, and you accept it with a sigh.

Your eyes wander down his chest, stopping at the top of his waist. You’ve never actually seen it, the wound and the scar that it left. At least, not since the incident. Your chest tightens at the thought. It was so bloody, and dirty, and just plain gross.

It was supposed to be the end of him, the end of everything you had. And now here he was, studying for a calculus test.

How was all that a month ago?

“Does it always hurt?” you ask before you could stop yourself. Peter follows your stare before looking at you again.

“Nah, just sometimes,” he starts with a small shrug. “It’s usually a dull ache every now and then, but it hurts more right now, cause, you know…” He looks away in shame. “Speaking of, I need to put this cream stuff on before I forget, supposed to keep it clean and help with the healing. I forgot to put it on after training.” He leans forward to grab the tube off his desk, and you could tell the easy motion was rather painful.

“I could do it if you want,” you offer, eyes widening immediately afterward. The two of you have been keeping physical distance between one another, and now here you were, basically asking to caress him. “I mean- if you think it would be easier.”

He takes a moment to think before giving a small nod, not saying anything as he hands you the cream. You both seem unsure of this, but you slowly grab the tube anyways. You take your time unscrewing the cap, giving Peter a chance to change his mind. When you look back up, he’s already staring at you, waiting for your next move.

You scooch closer toward Peter, and the air starts to get thicker. Tense. One wrong move could ruin this whole thing. You cringe at the thought. It’s not that deep, you tried to rationalize.

But this was Peter. Every small action meant something more.

Fisting the bottom of his t-shirt, you bring it to his chest to reveal the scar. You let out a shaky breath, looking at the newly exposed skin. It was the same as the last time you saw it: You could still see the tinges of pink under the lights, and his chest was still firm. But now all that was blemished with a horrid red line on his right.

That fucking scar. If looks could kill, your stare could probably reopen the wound that was once there. It makes you so frustrated to know the memory still stains his body. Peter once mentioned that his powers speed up his healing process, but marks like these last a lifetime for normal people, so you imagined that if it were to go away, it wouldn’t be for years.

You shake the thoughts from your head as you squeeze the cream onto your fingers, using your thumb to warm it up. Shifting your weight forward, you lean in even closer to him and gently touch Peter’s skin. The contact causes him to tense at first, but he eventually softens under your touch as you massage in the substance.

Peter doesn’t take his eyes off you. He watches how softly your fingers graze his scar, and how his skin was burning at the contact. It reminds him of that weekend: The hungry kisses, the skin on skin after you took your shirts off. Even when you were pulling him for more, you were never rough. You let him dip his toes first, making sure he was doing what he wanted.

Mr. Stark’s words come back to him. Live a little… have some fun… do what you want…

And right now, Peter thinks he wants more.

He sits up straighter (or at least as much as he could) and brings his hand up toward you, tracing your jaw with his fingertips. His thumb rubs the center of your cheek, bringing your focus away from his scar. You don’t realize how close the two of you are until you face him again. Peter’s stare flickers between your eyes and mouth, and you swallow hard. Though his touch was warm, your mind was frozen.

Were you supposed to do something? What did Peter want? Your questions were soon answered as he started to close the distance between you, ever so slowly. And though a part of you wanted to meet him halfway, memories cloud your head.

Blood.

Rubble.

Tears.

Peter holding on for dear life.

Fear shooting through your veins.

With a sharp inhale, you put your weight on your palms and back away. Peter stays where he is, his body a few seconds behind. After a few seconds, he lowers his hand down as concern floods his eyes.

“I- I should go,” you announce. Pushing yourself off the bed, you quickly pack your stuff away, not bothering to check if you got everything.

“I thought we were going to study more-“

“Just look up some practice problems online and you should be good. The curve helps a lot too.” You zip your backpack. “You’ll be fine without me.”

Peter fumbles for an excuse. “Well, it’s getting late, though. Wouldn’t you rather spend the night like last weekend?”

“No, it’s cool. Happy said they always have a driver on call just in case. Might as well put use them,” you shrug. “Anyways, bye!”

You quickly slam the door behind you, and Peter cringes at the sound. What the hell just happened? He brings his palms to his eyes with a heavy sigh. The last thing he wanted was for things to be awkward, yet he still managed to drive you out of his room and onto a two-hour car ride instead. Did he misread the situation that bad?

Meanwhile, you were still on the other side of the door, eyes wide. Did you really just do that? You were always so upset when Peter didn’t communicate with you, but now you were no better. You turn back to face the door, hand on the doorknob, yet the turn never came. Eventually, you let go and back away, and pull out your phone before turning the corner and out of the hallway.

At that same moment, Peter decided to stand up and follow you. Even if you wanted to leave, he didn’t want all his feelings to go unsaid. He pushes through the soreness and reaches the door, yanking it open.

He sticks his head out into the hall, but he doesn’t see you. Peter’s frame shrinks. A big part of him wanted to chase you, to see if he could catch up before you had the chance to go, but if you were already so far gone, it must be for a reason. With a frown, he slowly shuts his door, hoping that maybe you’ll come back before the click.

You never do.

Sleep never comes to you that night, thoughts about a brown-haired superhero circling your head. You knew that leaving was not the best idea. And not turning back when you had the chance was also not the greatest call. But at that moment, the idea of confronting your fears and worries seemed so much worse.

Grabbing your pillow, you smother yourself as you let out a quiet scream. By the time you uncover your face, you can already see the sun.

---

Neither of you mentions that night. Not that you were purposely avoiding the topic. In fact, you wanted to apologize for your abrupt exit, and maybe talk about what was going on between you two, but there was never a good time to do so.

Peter’s reappearance was not going as smooth as you thought it would. No offense to the boy, but you didn’t think many people would notice he was gone. But with the lack of Spider-Man sightings, and all the chaos surrounding homecoming weekend, people were chatty.

The first day he came back to school, Flash kept asking what happened to the friendly neighborhood hero. Poor Peter tried his best to blubber an excuse about him having a mission out of the country, but that just confused his classmates even more.

Others were asking why he missed all those weeks of school, which caused him to create an elaborate lie about having an extended family in Europe. It took everything for MJ not to outright laugh at the scene, which you later scolded her about.

Combine that and all the work he needs to catch up on, you thought it would be best to wait a little longer.

Eventually, Friday rolls around and all of you have survived another week. You, Peter, Ned, and MJ were talking around your locker before school when Ned claps his hands together, a lightbulb turning on in his head.

“Oh, dude! Now that we’re all here, we should all play some D&D!” He grins, getting giddier by the second. “We finally have a good amount of people, plus it’ll be a good way to have Betty get to know you all better as a group. I got this new book for Christmas and I’ve been planning a campaign for weeks. Spoiler alert: it’s awesome!” He quickly spits out, looking toward the group for a response.

Turns out Betty and Ned were soulmates, though no one knew until recently. Except for MJ, of course. When she gossiped about it homecoming night, Ned spilled all the beans.

They found out a few weeks after D.C., but though the two of them were pleased with the pairing, Betty didn’t feel ready to go into a relationship. Ned was accepting of this, being the sweetie he is, and the two of them are slowly building a friendship, though they are quite affectionate with one another. It was adorable, and slightly jealousy-inducing all at once.

MJ crinkles her nose. “I suppose I could try it. No promises that I’ll enjoy it, though.”

Ned, Peter, and you all stare at one another before bursting into laughter. Your amusement confuses MJ, but she doesn’t interrupt the moment.

“Oh Michelle,” you begin, grabbing her by the shoulder. “You are in for a world of fun.”

“Does that mean you’re in?” Ned points to you.

“Of course, dude! You’re the best Dungeon Master around. That, and your mom always has tons of snacks for us whenever we play.”

“I’ll take what I can get, I guess,” he scoffs. “Should we plan for tomorrow or something? I need to add a few more details and Betty should be free then too.”

“I’m good.”

“Same here.”

“Actually, I can’t. I’m busy.”

The three of you turn to Peter, who shrinks down in size and offers a shy smile.

“C’mon Pete. I get you have a lot of catching up to do but I’m sure a small game break wouldn’t kill you,” you said.

“No no, I get that.” He shakes his head. “It’s just that I was gonna start patrolling this weekend… “ he explains, and your blood runs cold. “But you guys go on and play without me, I promise to join next time.”

Ned nods, the three of them continuing to talk like normal, but you stay silent, keeping your eyes in Peter’s direction. Patrolling? How come he never told you about this?

It’s five minutes before class when MJ and Ned decide to leave, heading to their first period history together. Peter decides to go to class too, but you grab his arm before he gets the chance to turn away.

“Are you seriously going out? What happened to taking it easy?” you hissed. Though your tone was rather snippy, deep down you were terrified for Peter. Sure, he was fine now, maybe even better with all his training, but was he ready to go back out?

Were you ready for him to go back out?

“I’ve been taking it easy for a week, and people are starting to get suspicious. I don’t know if I can make it through another one of Flash’s confrontations without getting caught,” he sighs. “Look, can we just talk about this later? Class is about to start.”

You scoff. “You’re just trying to avoid the subject.”

“No, I’m not. I just don’t want to hear you lecture me when I’m already heading to one. And besides, I already know what you’re gonna say so what does it matter?”

“You literally just described ‘avoiding the subject’,” you bite back, concern turning into frustration. “Nothing good happens when we don’t talk, Pete.”

“Oh really? Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah dude, I’m pretty sure. That’s kinda how a friendship works.”

“Right. Friendship…” A pause. Peter’s face hardens as he looks at you. “Fine, let’s talk: why didn’t you kiss me?” he asks, jaw clenched.

Your hand lets go of his arm and falls slack. When you said you wanted to bring up the almost-kiss, you didn’t mean now. Why was he turning this on you?

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, if I can’t avoid the subject, then you can’t either.”

You shake your head. This was not the time to talk about this. He takes your silence as an answer and moves a step back.

“I’m going out. Tonight,” he announces. “I’m not waiting around.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply before he turns around and walks away. The action surprises you; Peter was never the one to walk away. If he was, it was because there was a danger that he needed to tend to.

This time, he willingly chose to.

You mull over what he said before he left. I’m not waiting around. He said it with such conviction. It almost sounded like he wasn’t talking about Spider-Man.

He was talking about you.

+++

You didn’t realize the Avengers had their own private hospital section, but considering their job description, you shouldn’t be surprised.

The stale, air-conditioned air of the hospital welcomed you the minute you entered. Goosebumps prickled your exposed arms as the atmosphere around you shifted.

Yeah, you really didn’t like hospitals. Especially now.

The nurses didn’t know anything of you or your involvement either, so they couldn’t let you go past the designated waiting room, leaving you all alone in a stuffy room. You’ve been staring at the fish tank for the last five minutes, waiting for someone to at least come in and talk to you.

Ugh, fuck this.

You texted MJ and Ned the news about Peter, which was a rather chaotic conversation. You promised you would let them know the whole story soon, but now didn’t feel like the time. Not when your other half may or may not be alive.

When you left the school, Ned spammed Stark Industries with emergency messages, which finally got Tony Stark’s attention. You overheard some nurses at the desk talking, and apparently, he was somewhere in the building, talking down a woman. You had no doubt that it was May.

God, if you thought you’ve been through it, you couldn’t imagine how she felt. To find out your nephew, who was basically your son, is a crime-fighting superhero is one thing. To find out he was almost killed and is currently fighting for his life all in one night is another. You were surprised her head didn’t explode right then and there.

Another ten minutes pass by before May comes out from the patient area, eyes red and completely distraught. Tony Stark was close behind her, holding the door open as May’s crouched figure passes through.

You stare at the two of them and accidentally make eye contact with the billionaire. He sends you a nod before heading back to the hospital rooms, like it was the only safe thing to do. The anger from before quickly disappeared; at least you weren’t the only one in shock.

“Oh, Y/N,” May says when she spots you. “I didn’t know you’d be here. It’s super late, I think it’s safer if you went back home. I don’t want your parents to worry. Do you need me to call and talk to them? I can take you home if you need me to.”

“May, you don’t-“

“I mean it’s probably best if I go do something. I don’t think I can sit here for very long without pulling my hair out.”

“May-“

“This is all just hitting me so hard. I mean, how did I not even realize this? I feel so stupid. God, the nerve of Tony to pull this. I should have never trusted him-“

“It’s my fault, May.” You snap, ceasing her rambles. “I did this… I fucking caused all of this. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do and one thing led to another and… I killed him. I killed Peter. I am so sorry, May. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

May doesn’t respond right away, still processing everything you said. Her shoulders slump down slightly as she cocks her head. Out of all the news she got tonight, this one confused her the most. But as she focused on you and your shivering body, she realized she wasn’t the only one that had a rough night.

She takes your hands. “Let’s talk, alright?”

The next fifteen minutes were spent by you blubbering about everything. The soulmate memory, his Spider-Man secret, how you tried to keep apart, and how you found him downtown. You skip over the rather intimate parts, knowing it was probably not going to help May. Your face is red and splotchy by the end of it, and a handful of tissues covered the small table next to you.

May doesn’t say a word until you’re done. Though a nice gesture, her silence was more due to her complete shock.

“I am so fucking sorry, May,” you whisper at the end. “I should have told you, or someone, at least. It’s just that, it was Peter’s life on the line. I didn’t want to do anything and hurt him. I thought it was best if he made the call, but look where that got us.” You wipe your eyes and look away. The guilt was unbearable. May was nothing but caring to you, and you repay her by killing her nephew.

“God... I knew Peter was having a rough time, I always heard him at weird hours of the night, but I thought it was just school or something. I’ve always checked on him, but he would always say he’s busy.” She shakes her head. “I don’t blame you, though. I mean, I’m not exactly happy this all went down the way it did, but I can’t be mad at you for at least trying to save him, even when it hurt to.”

You sniffle at her words, trying to suppress any more tears. “He still got hurt, though. Peter being my soulmate cost him his life…” you whisper the last word.

May offers a sympathetic smile as she smooths your hair. “You know, people say the reason for soulmates is to be with someone you love forever, but it never takes into account some people’s forever is shorter than others,” she explains. “When Ben died… I was so angry at the world. Why give me this amazing person if I only got them for a short time? Sure, the world can give me another soulmate or something, but it almost defeats the purpose… makes it seem that I had to have this one soulmate before I had to a ‘real’ soulmate. Even after all this time, part of me will always want him…

“But even if Ben isn’t with me forever, I was with him for his forever, and I found a way to be okay with that. I gave him all the love I possibly could have, and I have no doubt in my head that it was worth it.”

You smile and nod at her words, but she could tell you weren’t completely getting the point. “You and Peter are great together, friendship or more. There’s no way he regrets spending his time with you, and I don’t think you do either. The two of you always had something special. Don’t push away from that, even if it might seem easier.”

You find May’s hands and give a firm squeeze, a silent way of saying thanks. For months, you have been trying to go for easy: less drama, fewer risks… but it was still a whole lot of pain. And for what? Never getting to be with your best friend in the way you truly wanted? May made it seem like the choice was obvious, and you wondered if it actually was.

A few quiet minutes pass until Tony Stark steps into the waiting room and approaches the two of you. You and May quickly stand up, waiting for the worst. You already experienced Peter’s “death”, you didn’t need to go through it again, especially if it’s real this time.

“Is he going to be okay?” May quickly asks, hands close to her chest, protecting herself from any hidden blows.

Tony’s mouth tightens before answering. “More or less…” he starts, looking down before continuing. “The wound was deep, and if he couldn’t heal as fast as he could, this would be a different story. However, it was still caused by dangerous, alien hybrid technology and he was already in a rough state prior to the… stab.” He cringes at the word. “Scrapes and bruises, a broken rib, some significant brain injury… Dr. Cho is doing the best she can, but as of right now, he’s in a comatose state.”

You gulp at the news. “So, what does that mean? When will he wake up?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“But- but he will wake up, right?” you clarify.

A pause. Tony’s jaw ticks. His eyes quickly leave you before blinking and meeting yours again, but you notice it. The doubt behind them.

“I don’t know…”

---

It’s almost midnight, which means you’ve spent the whole night worrying.

You were out on the fire escape freezing your ass off. It would only take ten steps maximum to grab something warm, but the bite of the wind kept you alert.

You weren’t going to leave until you knew Peter was safe.

He barely talked to you since this morning. He sat near Ned at lunch instead of you and took different routes to class. You texted him a few times throughout the day, but he never replied.

So, when you sent a message checking in on him with no response back, you weren’t sure if it was him ignoring you or that he was in danger. You let out a sigh of worry as your breath dissolved into the night.

You never realized how nice your view was. The most use your window got was when Peter came in, but that hasn’t happened for months. It’s crazy that you consider that a simpler time in your relationship.

Your ears focus on the sounds of the city. The bustling noises often brought you comfort, knowing that there were thousands of people going through the motions of life. Tonight, however, it sent a feeling of loneliness to your veins. New York kept going on while you were wallowing and worrying. It didn’t need you, even though you needed them.

A sudden urge to cry makes your throat tightens. You really hope that Peter was alright.

When you check the time again, you saw that a new day began. You decide to shove your phone back in your pocket. Watching the clock every ten seconds wasn’t going to help.

You sigh, maybe you’ll feel different today. Maybe you’ll feel warmer because holy shit is it cold outside. At what temperature does hypothermia kick in? That seems like a question to Google, not experiment.

You’re about to turn back when you hear a soft thwip, and a Peter hanging outside down on the stairs. You weren’t too sure how he was feeling at the moment, his covered eyes not giving any hints, but you send a soft smile nonetheless.

“I’m not a damsel in distress if that’s what you’re thinking,” you break the ice.

Peter turns himself right side up, taking a seat on the railing next to you. He pulls his mask off and drops it in his lap, and you can see his face isn’t as icy as this morning. But his mouth was pulled tight, unsure how to go about this.

“I’d consider frostbite to be a crime,” he shrugs. Luckily, you had your window open this whole time. With a quick webshot, Peter sticks and catches the sweater hanging on your chair before offering it to you. “Especially if Spider-Man can stop it.”

You bite your cheek. Part of you didn’t want to give in, but there was no way you could last another minute out here. Slowly, you grabbed your sweater, your fingers grazing the fabric of his suit. A way of saying thank you.

“Slow day?” you ask, pulling the sweater over your head. The extra layer was already warming you up, and your body relaxes a little.

“Well, considering the biggest thing I did today was helping tourists find their way to the subway, I’ll let you figure that out,” he laughs. “Though I suppose some good work is better than no work at all. At least the city knows I’m back.”

Peter realizes that the last sentence wasn’t a good idea, your face slightly dropping at his words. He tries to keep talking in hopes of distracting you. “So uh, any reason why you’re out here tonight?”

“I was waiting for you. Couldn’t sleep until I knew you were safe, I guess.” you sigh, looking back at the skyline. “I also wanted to apologize, for how I reacted. Even if I didn’t agree with you, I could have at least listened to you.”

Peter awkwardly nods, guilt surfacing at your confession. “I mean, I could have done the same thing too. I was so focused on the dumb rumors I let Flash get into my head. That was my first mistake,” he jokes, causing you to snort. “I’m not trying to get into myself into any death matches anytime soon, but I still want to help out, you know?”

“Always the hero… I learned that back in D.C.,” you sigh. “I guess I’m still trying to figure things out. Everything just feels weird right now, and I don’t think I’m making it any easier.”

He doesn’t say anything and faces back toward the city. He takes a breath of the city, smelling the mix of laundry detergent from your apartment basement and the exhaust from the streets.

For all his life, Peter was dedicated to New York. He loved going to the museums with May and Ben; he always tried to pay street performers with whatever spare change he had in his pocket; he rolled his eyes every time someone brought up New Jersey; most importantly, he wouldn’t take off the suit until he knew his home was safe, even if it was almost morning.

He’s done everything he could to protect his neighborhood and the people who need it most, yet he feels… almost distant from it all. As if Peter was trying to find something more to it. A faint memory passes through his head- what did Ben use to say all those years ago? Something like, “home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling”?

Peter’s brain sticks to the thought.

Suddenly, the last month hits him.

“I thought of you,” he starts, still looking out into the night. “When it happened, all I could think about was you.”

Your face softens as the beating of your heart becomes audible.

“I was so… angry about it all. I was so pissed off at myself. Even if I knew that was gonna happen, even if I knew or thought I guess, that that was the end, I was an idiot for not spending my time with you. I should’ve used whatever time I had trying to be something more to you, instead of pushing away what we already had. At least if I did die, I would be at peace with everything,” he chokes up a little at the end. “You’re my best friend, and one that somehow gets me. This place is my home and I’d do anything for it.” He turns his head closer. “But it’s nothing without you. Life feels complicated, it’s always been complicated… but I think it’d be easier if we were in it together.”

You bite your lip and pick at the skin. They’ve been chapped since you came out, but it didn’t stop you from using it to cope with your nerves. Peter was laying it all out on the table, and you were the one left silent.

“You don’t have to tell me why we didn’t kiss, it’s completely understandable if you rather just let it go. I’ve pushed you away too many times, it’s only fair you get to do the same at least once. But I want you to know this.” His eyes were bright under the moonlight.

The last hurrah.

“I would keep you in any possible way I could. I told myself that I need to be able to do what I want, and I want you, for however long I can get you,” he sighs. “If you’re not ready for that, okay. If you never want that- fuck – that’s okay too. I love you. I will always love you,” he says, passion dripping from his words and into your heart. “If you could wait for me, I can wait for you too. Whenever you’re ready, just say when. I don’t care what I’m doing, or where I am, I’m always going to be here with you. Even if you don’t want me, I’ll be here.”

I’ll be here…

+++

It took five days for Peter to wake up.

Five days of nonstop worrying and utter stress. Five days of you traveling to the hospital first thing after school until your parents texted you to come home. Five days of you not sleeping because you were waiting for the call, and you had no idea what to expect when it did.

The first day was somewhat bearable. May and you slept in the waiting room that night, and when you woke up, which was about four hours later, she took you home. Sitting in a sticky, vinyl chair was not helping you, and if May had to wait there for another minute, she was afraid she’d have another meltdown.

You were still a little numb from it all by the time you got back. It wasn’t until almost midnight that you started to realize, oh shit, you don’t know when Peter will wake up. If… he’ll ever wake up.

That first night you cried in your bed until the morning. Your face was swollen for the rest of the day, and when your parents came back on the second day, they were panicking that you had an allergic reaction.

You told May not to tell them. They didn’t need to know, and they didn’t need to coddle and worry about you. May, who didn’t exactly think it was a good idea, reluctantly agreed anyways. So, when your parents were fussing about your appearance, you laughed it off and told them you watched The Notebook the night before with some friends.

It was just easier that way.

The second day was spent with you wallowing in your room, waiting by your phone for something. May told you she would keep you updated and that you shouldn’t worry, which both of you knew was just empty advice. Hearing nothing was just as bad as hearing something.

Later that day, MJ sent a few news articles about the Vulture and his arrest. Apparently, his suit gave out not too long after he left the scene, causing him to suffer some internal injuries and harsh burns. He got caught by Stark Industries and was arrested quickly after, and is currently awaiting trial. It was likely that Adrian Toomes would be under bars for a while, and that brought you both relief and guilt as you tried to sleep.

The third day sent you to school, and at least gave you something to focus on. The tension between you and your friends was palpable, but no one bothered to address it, not sure where to even go. The only mention of that night was with Liz in the hallway before she left, and that was enough for you.

You went back to the hospital on the third day (after telling your parents you were staying at school for newspaper), and though there was nothing new about Peter’s condition, you still wanted to be there just in case. May was too busy with work to come in unless there was an emergency, and you hope that brought her more relief than stress.

You spent your visiting hours watching Peter sleep, or whatever people did when they were in a coma. You at least liked to pretend he was just sleeping, it made you feel better about his chances of waking up.

His face was so pale and frail under the fluorescents, and you wished he could wake up just long enough to get some actual food in him. You hoped he was at least somewhat at peace right now and resting away all of the stress he’s put himself under. The stress that you were also a cause of.

“I’m sorry, Peter. For everything,” you whisper. Even if he could hear you right now, you’re not sure you want him to. You slowly stand up from your chair and step closer to the boy, brushing his curls back. Gently, you lean forward and press a kiss to the top of his head, brushing the area with your thumb afterward. “I hope you’re doing okay…”

The fourth day is mostly the same. After school, you lied to your parents and went straight to the hospital. You quietly worked on homework while sitting next to Peter, glancing at him from time to time and sending his hand a reassuring squeeze every now and then. He looks the same as yesterday, and you’re not too sure if that’s good or not.

“You know he’s not going anywhere,” you hear from the doorway. Their voice was instantly recognizable. “Dr. Cho says he’s doing alright, though. Still don’t know when he’ll wake up, but he’s alright for now.” Tony Stark says.

You scoff. “No offense, but that ‘for now’ part doesn’t seem so reassuring.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, taking a seat next to you. “But considering this is probably my fault, I’ll take that over nothing.”

You shake your head. “It’s not your fault. It was bound to happen either way, no matter what you did, it wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Yeah, that’s what everyone says, isn’t it?” he mumbles.

“Trust me, I actually mean it. If we’re going to put blame on anyone it should be on me… or the universe or whatever.”

Tony tilts his head. “Universe as in…”

“-soulmates, yeah,” you answer. “In our future, we saw each other after the incident, and I thought he died… now here we are.”

“Right, here we are…” he repeats. “They told me someone else was there at the scene when I got to the hospital, but I wasn’t sure who they were referring to until I saw you afterward. Nice to meet officially meet you…”

“Y/N,” you introduce yourself.

Tony nods. “I’m sorry about how all that went down though. I knew the kid wants his identity to be a secret so I tried to keep everything under wraps as much I could.”

“No hard feelings,” you smile. “I was definitely upset at the time, but I could tell you were just as worried as I was. You wanted to protect him… I do too.” You turn and look at Peter, watching his chest go up and down with his breath. “I’d do anything for him.”

You don’t notice Tony’s faint smile as he watches you and Peter. Young love was beyond him, and watching it happen right in front of his eyes was both sweet and nauseating.

“I should be heading back, I only came here for a quick check-in. Still have some loose ends to tie up regarding press, but nothing to worry about.” He stands up, straightening his jacket. “Glad we got a chance to chat.”

“Me too.” You watch as he walks away, words still at the tip of your tongue. “For what it’s worth Mr. Stark,” you begin, gaining his attention again. “Peter is the type of person who would do anything to save people. He looks out for his family, his friends, me… I can’t imagine someone who’s more of a hero than him, and that includes the Avengers. No offense,” you half-joke. “Whatever you decide to do with him, I hope you give him another chance. He’s really amazing- powers or not.”

He nods, impressed at your words. Tony doesn’t say anything, choosing to offer you a smile before turning away, leaving you and Peter alone. You don’t stay much longer after he leaves, and you follow yesterday’s routine of kissing Peter’s head before heading out.

The fifth day is rainy, perfect to match your somber mood. School decided that today would be a great day to kick your ass and give you tons of homework, even though finals week was already fast approaching. You also forgot an umbrella this morning, and your clothes were still damp from your walk from the subway station. For the cherry on top, no one has had any updates on Peter since he went under, and your hope was starting to falter.

Without thinking, you took Peter’s hands in yours and started to fidget around with his fingers. The cuts on his knuckles were turning pink and gradually healing, while the calluses on his palms were still evident. Much of the skin around his joints were rough, but it meshed so well with the smoothness around it. You were never touchy with other people, but you desperately wanted Peter to squeeze your hands back. At least show some indication that everything was going to be okay.

When you actually felt a squeeze, you almost couldn’t believe it.

You straighten in your chair and turn your head up. A slow flutter of the eyes and a twitch of the lips make your body tense in anticipation. Is he…?

“Peter?” you whisper.

A quiet groan escapes his mouth as Peter’s eyes gently open, taking in the bright lights. You sigh in relief and blink away at the tears trying to come. This better not be a dream.

“Y/N?” he asks, voice dry and scratchy.

“Oh jeez, maybe don’t talk yet. I’ll go grab you some water and tell the nurses you’re up, okay?” you loosen your grip on Peter’s hands, but he squeezes again.

His head does the tiniest shake as he stares down, watching where your fingers touch his. “Stay. They’ll figure it out.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Fine,” you give in. You’ll be out of here soon enough when they find out, and you wanted to spend time with the boy who came back from the dead. “If I get in trouble though, you cannot play the ‘sick patient’ card.”

Peter lets out a gravelly laugh, his body still trying to figure out how to be awake. “I’ll try my best…” he mumbles.

“You’ll try your best? Seriously?” you scoff. “You finally wake up and your first words are some half-ass promise?”

He takes a deep inhale, both humored and annoyed at your teasing. “Fine. I promise I won’t… as long as you promise to be here.”

You smile at his quiet words, taking his knuckle and forcing his pinkie finger up. You gently wrap yours around it, looking him dead in his tired eyes. “I promise I’ll be here,” you whisper.

”I’ll always be here…”

---

A month ago, you promised Peter that exact same thing, and it feels like you already broke that promise. The world has offered you a second chance, and you were doing the same thing Peter did the first time: pushing away out of fear. Could you really waste another five months doing that again?

Could your heart handle that?

“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable or something,” Peter stammers. “If you need some time alone, that’s cool,” he offers, fumbling to put his mask back on.

“-Peter, wait.”

He immediately freezes, looking at you with wide eyes. The wind was starting to pick up, and his curls gently blew in the breeze. The dry air irritates his lips as he picks at it, waiting for your next response.

You move closer to him, inch by inch on the railing; your hands are almost touching, your pinkie desperately wanting to link with his gloved one. You take a deep breath and let it trap in your chest as you stare at the boy in front of you.

Peter Parker.

Spider-Man.

Your soulmate.

But most importantly, your best friend.

The wind moves through your hair and chills your body, yet it jumpstarts every nerve in your system. Peter was alive; you were alive; and fuck, was it a good feeling.

You wanted more, so you leaned in. Your nose touched Peter’s and your mouths closed the gap. A small, innocent kiss to tell him you want more, and that it was his call to keep going. When you stop, and Peter realizes that yes, you did just kiss him, he comes back for more. And he’s not looking to stop anytime soon.

His hand lets go of the railing and wraps around the small of your back, keeping you close and balanced. He keeps the other one gripped tight to the metal; he doesn’t trust himself to not get dizzy from you.

You cradle Peter’s face and deepen yourself into his presence. Your heart is hammering against your chest and you love it. It makes your body heat up and radiates the air around you. You hum against his mouth as you suck on his bottom lip, making Peter whine at the feeling. Your sweater rides up as you press yourself closer, and his thumb draws circles on the exposed skin. The small action makes you smile; you were only half-sure you weren’t crying at the amount of love that was running through your veins.

It seems like forever until you two are pulling away, absolutely blissed out and breathless. Neither of you go that far, faces still just a space or two away.

You look into Peter’s glassy eyes. If something were to happen to him, if you had to say goodbye to him in the worst way possible, if you had to grieve for a lifetime in order to move on, if you had to spend every day thinking of him and crying until your face was red and dry…

It was worth it. You were grateful to be loved by Peter Parker.

You catch your breath and take a slow inhale. It smells like cedarwood. Home.

You lean forward again and Peter meets you halfway. Your lips are just touching when you whisper into his mouth his new favorite word.

“When.”

Part 4 / Masterlist

Taglist: @eridanuswave @spideylovin @mktravelbuggie​  @bintfalastin8​ @runway-to-my-aid​ @selfcarecap @peterbenjiparker​

[master-sass-blast]

Children of the Gods: Part Three, Chapter Two.

I had to input every single italic you see in this fic by hand because Tumblr doesn’t hold text format when I paste it innnnnn. *pained smile*

Please give this chapter some love, because that was fucking painful to do.

Summary: The aftermath of capturing Allison proves messy -both in dealing with the teen's evident trauma, and in all the skeletons in various closets that get unleashed soon after.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, Frank Castle x Karen Page, and Alexandra Rasputin x Nikolai Rasputin.

Rating: M for gun violence, depictions of death and injuries, depictions of emotional trauma, and gratuitous use of the word “fuck.”

Word count: 8.9k.

Set after “Children of the Gods: Part Three, Chapter One.”

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @leo-writer, @emma-frxst, @sadstone-s

“What the hell were you thinking!”

“Ooh, careful there, Doohan,” Wade snarks, head rolling to indicate he’s rolling his eyes. “Get any more agitated and you’ll be saying all the no-no words.”

Scott scowls at Wade. “Stuff it, Wilson.”

“Every damn night, laser pointer.”

A mixture of grimaces, sighs, and groans go up through the crowd.

You’re all gathered in the medical wing of Xavier’s –the X-Force and nearly all of the X-Men. Allison’s off being examined by Dr. McCoy and Alyssa –to make sure she’s stable enough to be taken out of the handcuffs and the suppression band—and Frank and Karen are sequestered in a separate room until it's clear how everything's going to shake out.

Because, naturally, there’s been a wrench thrown in the situation.

Or maybe the whole damn toolbox, you mentally amend as Wade and Scott resume arguing.

“We cannot harbor a mob criminal here—”

“She’s thirteen, Summers!” Wade snaps. The eyes on his mask narrow into slits. “She’s not a criminal –and her parents’ choice don’t automatically make her guilty!”

“Murder, illegal theft and possession of firearms, assault, stalking, kidnapping,” Scott starts listing, ticking off each of Allison’s misdeeds on his fingers.

“She lost her family,” Nathan interjects, voice going to gravel. “Where the fuck were all of you when she needed support? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

The room goes silent. Many of the X-Men members look away or hang their heads slightly.

“We had no way of knowing that Allison was a mutant,” Ororo speaks up. “Without the proper information, we can’t help. It’s unfortunate, yes, but out of our control all the same.”

“But you know now,” Wade argues. “You knew with Russell. You knew with all the kids at Essex house. You turned your back on him and those kids, just like you’re turning your back on Allison now.” He scoffs, disgusted. “Same shit, different day. You’re all a bunch of cowardly cocksuckers.”

“We do have limits,” Professor Xavier speaks up from his chair. “Russell and the other members of Essex house were considered wards of the state. Legally, that meant Essex house had custody of them until they turned eighteen. We wrote petitions. We did as much as we could to bring attention to the issue. Unfortunately, it got swept under the rug or stonewalled by anti-mutant members of the legal system. As for Allison…” He sighs. “Taking in wards with criminal connections put the school at risk. Not just for fear of retaliation –as would certainly be a risk with Miss Ricci’s connections to the mafia—but also our funding and licensing. As an orphaned mutant, she is certainly deserving of our help—” he pauses to glare sternly at Scott and a few of the more stubborn, self-righteous members present “—but we have to consider the needs of our other residents and students, too.”

“I think we’re overlooking that Allison is here right now,” Jean pipes up. “Whether or not she stays with us is one thing, but we need to decide what to do for at least the next forty-eight hours.”

“She stays here,” you say automatically. “As far as we know, she has no other guardians, potentially even nowhere to go. I don’t think it’s gonna kill us to give her a bed and some food to eat.”

“Absolutely not,” Scott fires back –and, behind him, Angel and Iceman nod. “She’s far too aggressive to possibly put the students at risk.”

“She’s agitated and traumatized,” you reason, “but that doesn’t mean she’s going to lash out at people left and right.”

“Doesn’t she have a guardian of sorts?” Neena pipes up. “Artemis? Has anyone gotten ahold of them?”

“We reached out with the number Miss Ricci gave us,” Xavier explains. “The call picked up, but there wasn’t any verbal response for the duration of the call.”

Well, that bodes well. “What about her attorney?” you ask. “If we can’t keep her here, wouldn’t her attorney be able to arrange some sort of safe place for her to stay.”

“Thus far, we haven’t been able to reach her attorney.”

And that bodes even worse. You fight the urge to sigh or roll your eyes, and instead mentally curse monkey wrenches and whoever thought to invent the damn things.

“For the time being, I’ve contacted some of our external resources” –the glance Xavier shoots at both you and Piotr tells you that it’s your uncle and Alexandra—“to help with matters until the dust settles. They should be arriving soon, so—”

There’s a loud crash from down the hall, the sound of glass shattering, and an angry screech that sounds suspiciously like, “Fuck you, Castle!”

You give into the urge to sigh before booking it towards the sound of chaos and rage. Great. Now it’s an entire toolshed.

***

Subduing Allison this time, at least, is easier for several reasons.

First, she’s still wearing the repression cuff on her wrist. Without her powers –without a way to pop in and out of this existence, specifically—she’s much easier to catch.

Second, she’s tired. It’s not just the bags under her eyes or the sweat glistening at her furrowed brow. She’s stumbling unevenly, panting as she tries to exact her revenge.

Third, Illyana happens to show up at the exact same time with your uncle and Alexandra (and Nikolai as well, though he has less involvement in the “subduing process”).

Alex reacts fastest. She hooks one strong arm around Allison’s waist, then scoops her away from Karen and a hangdog-looking Frank. “Alright, that’s enough.”

Allison, however, doesn’t seem to agree. (Though whether it’s due to general teenage contrariness or trauma-induced rage, the jury’s still out.

…Actually, it’s probably both.)

“You don’t even get it, Castle!” Allison snaps with a manic grin, eyes wide and haunted. “You killed a good man. My dad was getting out! He was going to testify against them—”

Alex clamps a hand over the teen’s mouth, making her cut herself off with a garbled grunt. “I said enough.”

Allison thrashes in the older woman’s iron-clad grasp –to no avail, unsurprisingly. Her face scrunches up, then her jaw starts flexing. There’s a moment where her expression goes slack when Alex doesn’t react, then her nose scrunches up again and her jaw starts working harder.

Alex sighs, then starts carrying Allison back down the hall (she’s astonishingly unfazed by been chomped down on). “Come on. Let’s get you calmed down, malen’kiy.”

At the other end of the hall, Neena pokes her head into the fray. “Someone who calls herself Artemis is at the front door.”

Professor Xavier nods, then says, “Please escort her back to Miss Ricci’s room,” before wheeling after Alex and Artemis.

You look between Neena and the Professor –then, in the interest of going where you’re actually allowed to be (and not being bored out of your mind because you’ll be literally shut out of the room), you head towards the foyer.

…

“Do you think Frank was set up to stop the trial?”

Your uncle shrugs; the two of you have taken up a spot at the back of the room, where you can watch things unfold and gossip like the two old ladies you are in spirit. “It’s possible. It’s also possible that it was retribution for Allison being a mutant. The Ricci syndicate is notoriously… intolerant.”

You grimace. You certainly understand just how far people will go against their own flesh and blood for intolerance’s sake. “Blood and water.”

Your uncle nods, expression equally sour. “You fucking said it, punk.”

There’s not much point in hashing it out any further –both from the standpoint of “forbidden knowledge” and digging up old trauma—so you settle back into watching Artemis go through the mandatory security check.

She’s tall, with broad shoulders. Her hair’s dark, just starting to streak with silver at the temples, and her eyes are deep, intense, borderline black color. Her nose is slightly crooked –comes with the territory in this walk of life—and she’s dressed in black motorcycle wear and combat boots.

She honestly looks so fucking familiar.

You frown, brows pinching together as you try and place her face in your memory. Failing your own abilities at recollection, you lean over and whisper, “Is she one of your team members? I swear I’ve seen her before.”

“Uh –no,” your uncle replies (and it’s too fast and shaky, but you’re too caught up in figuring out whom the fuck you’re looking at to notice). “I mean –everyone has a doppelganger, right?”

“I guess.” You squint at Artemis, as though physically narrowing your eyes will help your brain puzzle things out—

And then Alex strides into the foyer –wiping the hand that Allison bit, and if you look close enough you’re pretty sure you can still see a few bloody teeth marks—and the cloud of confusion lifts from your mind.

“Oh!” you gasp quietly. “That’s why she looks familiar! She looks like Alex.” You look from the Rasputin matriarch, to the other black-leather clad woman, then back again. “She looks… a lot like Alex, actually.” You laugh softly –coincidence is a hell of a thing—then keep rambling when your uncle doesn’t say anything. “Two women who love the color black and carry enough weapons on their person to stock an army. You’d think the universe broke the mold with Alex, huh?”

Your uncle shifts from foot to foot next to you, but says nothing.

“You really weren’t kidding about the whole ‘doppelganger’ thing, huh.” You cock your head to one side, then frown as another epiphany starts growing in your mind. “Actually… she kind of looks like you, too.”

Your uncle makes a quiet, pained choking noise. “Punk—”

“Yeah, she’s got more of your build…”

“Punk.”

“And her lower lip has that weird lopsided curve like yours—”

“Punk—”

You peer closer at Artemis’s face. “Actually, her nose looks like you took yours and Alex’s and mashed them together—”

“Punk.”

You finally look up at him and take in the pale, wide-eyed, tight-lipped expression on his face. “What?” When he doesn’t say anything, you look at Artemis, then Alex, and then back at him—

Oh God.

Oh God.

Holy fucking shit.

You stare up at your uncle, agape. “Wait a second –you and—”

“Okay, shut the fuck up!” he hisses, panicked, before dragging you out of the foyer and into the nearest hallway.

“You and Alex had a baby,” you blurt –albeit in a voice no louder than a harsh whisper. “Artemis is your and her lovechild!”

He winces, then holds up his hands. “I can explain—”

“I don’t think you can!” you hiss. “Why didn’t you tell me that I have a cousin who happens to be my husband’s half fucking sister! Oh God, does Piotr know? Do any of the Rasputins know?”

“I…” He trails off, then cringes. He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not sure, actually.”

You stare up at him, dumbfounded. “You’re not sure. How are you not sure? Nick knows who you are –what, you think Alex just kept a whole child from his knowledge—”

“I mean, he probably knows that there was a baby at one point—”

“The baby is in this fucking house!” you snap in a quiet growl, arms flailing wildly. “She’s a full grown adult who probably pays taxes and has a 401k going! Why wouldn’t Alex tell her husband—”

“Look,” your uncle interjects, cutting you off. “As far as Alex knows… she thinks she’s… dead?”

You gape. Then, as quietly as you can manage (given the circumstances), you exclaim, “What the fuck!”

“Keep your voice down!” your uncle hisses, gesturing wildly in panic. He looks over his shoulder, then when he’s certain no one overheard you, he sighs and looks back to you. “Look, it’s a long story—”

“I’m sure it fucking is!” You cross your arms over your chest when he winces. “How is it that you know your secret lovechild is alive, but Alex doesn’t? What, did she just abandon her?”

“No, no—”

“Didn’t think so. So what the fuck happened?”

He sighs, shoulder slumping, and runs one hand through his already disheveled hair. “Look –long story short, the people who ‘made’ Alex took the baby—”

“Artemis. Her daughter. Your daughter.”

He purses his lips, but concedes with a nod. “They took her away after she was born and told Alex she was dead –and that’s actually what prompted her to get out, but that’s another story for another day—”

“Okay, hang on a second.” You squeeze your eyes shut and hold up one hand. “Alex thinks her baby is dead –probably one of the most traumatic things in her whole life. You’ve known that she’s alive…” You open your eyes again and fix your uncle with a stern stare. “Okay, how long have you known for?”

He grimaces and shifts uncomfortably. “…well, the US took her, but she didn’t present early, so they turned her loose into the foster system because she didn’t have potential as an ‘asset’—”

“How fucking long?”

He ducks his head, carefully avoiding your gaze. “…tracked her down when she was ten.”

Your eyes widen –and then you slug him in the shoulder. “You fucking colossal asshole!”

He panics again, motioning for you to keep it down while checking over his shoulder. “Shut the fuck up!”

“No! Not only have you lied to Alex for decades—”

“She never asked—”

“A lie by omission is still a fucking lie!” you snap in a gravelly whisper. “So, not only did you lie to her, but you also abandoned your daughter to the mercies of the US foster care system!”

“My life wasn’t safe to keep a kid around!” he hisses back at you. “I couldn’t take care of you, and I couldn’t take care of her! If anything, it was safer for her if the government thought I didn’t know she was alive!”

You sigh, pinch the bridge of your nose, and wave dismissively with your other hand. “Okay –fine. That still doesn’t justify the whole lying thing, but whatever. Does Artemis know that you and Alex are her parents?”

“…Yes. She tracked me down when she was in her twenties and I told her the truth.”

“Well, it sounds like determination runs in the family,” you mutter. “But at least you two have kept in touch…” You look up, see your uncle’s grimace, and sigh. “You didn’t keep in touch with her.”

He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. “I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“Pretty sure ‘not like that’ is a good answer.” You sigh again, then shrug and put your hands on your hips. “Well, you’ve probably solved your own problem. She’ll probably just tell Alex who she is just to spite you, assuming she got the ‘petty vengeance’ gene too.”

Your uncle’s eyebrows spike to his hairline, and his expression goes through the five stages of grief in a matter of seconds. “She –she can’t—”

“She can and she probably will.”

He hunches over, crouching, and grips the back of his head. “Shitfuckshitfuckshitfuckshitfuck—”

“Myshka?”

You and your uncle both jump, then whirl in unison and give your husband your best convincing, “we’re totally not talking about long lost, hidden family members and other poor life choices” smiles that you can each manage.

(Consider that you don’t look like you just shit your pants, you win.)

Piotr’s forehead wrinkles with concern. “What… is everything alright?”

“Just fine, baby,” you assure him, subtly kicking your uncle so he relaxes. “Just talking about what happens next.”

Piotr nods after a moment, likely picking up on that whatever’s going on right now isn’t life or death and that you’ll fill him in later. “I actually came to find you,” he says, gesturing to your uncle. “Professor Xavier still cannot reach Allison’s lawyer. He has asked for your assistance.”

“Right. Absolutely. On it,” your uncle says with a none-too-convincing smile. He shoots your husband a pair of finger guns, then books it out of the hall and towards the medical wing of the mansion.

Piotr stares after him, then shoots you a confused frown. “Is he okay?”

You shrug. “He’s doing about his usual.” You decide to further sidestep the issue by ambling over to him and giving him a gentle hug. “How are you?” Are doing okay?”

Piotr wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. “I am fine now. Just a little sore.”

“Me too.” You nuzzle your cheek against his burly chest. “We really should invest in that hot tub we keep talking about getting. It’d be great for post-mission recovery.”

“Hot tubs are expensive, myshka,” he chuckles.

“Yes, but we’re not getting any younger. It’d be a good investment in taking care of our bodies.” You tilt your head back and grin up at him. “I thought you were all about that life.”

He sighs and shakes his head, feigning exasperation, but his amused smile is a dead giveaway. “Whatever shall I do with you, myshka?”

You grin wider. “You could kiss me.”

Piotr grins back, then dips his head and presses his lips against yours—

Mikhail appears next to you out of thin air. “Ah. Gross. Big meeting is happening. All hands on deck.”

Piotr rolls his eyes when his elder brother teleports away once more, then looks back down at you and strokes your cheek with his thumb. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, baby.” You unwind your arms from his massive trunk of a torso, then slide your fingers between his as the two of you walk towards the medical wing.

…

“—I am telling you, Charles, not being able to reach this kid’s lawyer is a bad fucking sign.”

You and Piotr walk into a conference room to find your uncle and Professor Xavier locked in a heated argument.

Wade, Nate, and Neena are leaning against the table to watch, occasionally leaning over to whisper bits of commentary to each other (or, in Wade’s case, speak at normal volume).

In the corner of the room, where a couple of armchairs are positioned, Nikolai sits with his two other children; they’re speaking in hushed Russian, but none of them seem too concerned about everything else going on.

“As I previously stated,” Xavier says, words clipped, “we cannot release Miss Ricci without speaking first to her attorney. The X-Men operate as a special law enforcement service, and failure to comply with criminal and civil statutes will have enormous consequences for the Institute—”

“There’s going to be a bunch of fucking ‘enormous consequences’ for the Institute,” your uncle interrupts, growling through clenched teeth, “if you don’t evacuate this building right fucking now! Fuck’s sake, Charles –you hired me as a security advisor; just listen to me.”

Piotr frowns and curls one hand over your shoulder. “What is happening?”

“What’s happening,” a new, strong, feminine voice interjects from the hall, “is that we’re leaving.” Artemis shoulders past your husband –a feat not easily achieved by many—with Allison in tow, then holds up the teen’s arm that has the repression cuff still attached. She glares at Xavier (and God, she really looks like Alex when she does that), then spits out through gritted, bared teeth, “Get this fucking thing off my kid.”

There’s a longsuffering sigh in the hall, and then Alex steps into the doorway. “She has that cuff on for her own safety –as I already told you—”

Artemis whirls, face contorted by a vicious scowl, and snaps, “I didn’t fucking ask for you input!”

(Boy, if that doesn’t just scream ‘repressed trauma and mommy issues.’)

Your uncle looks like he’s about to pass out again, but Alex seems remarkably nonplussed. She merely raises one eyebrow at Artemis, as if to say ‘that’s all you got?’

There’s no way she knows, you think as you watch the two stare each other down. Not with how much she cares about her kids. There’s no fucking way—

“Actually, we’ve got bigger problems,” your uncle pipes up, voice quavering slightly before he clears his throat. “We can’t reach your kid’s shark.”

“They have other clients,” Artemis retorts, upper lip curling in a derisive sneer. Her dark eyes smolder with barely constrained hatred as she tosses a withering glance in his direction (daddy issues, too, this chick won the whole lottery). “Or maybe they got stuck in traffic.”

Your uncle narrows his eyes at that (and now the two of them look so much alike, overcome by ire as they are). “You cannot possibly be that fucking stupid.”

Artemis sucks a breath through her teeth, eyes widening with rage and hurt. “You fucking dick—”

In the corner of the room, Illyana bolts upright before going stock still. Then, she gasps and reaches out towards her mother. “Mama!”

(The way Artemis’s face mars with a pained grimace makes your heart ache.)

Alex tenses, eyes glowing gold as she starts scanning the horizon (presumably checking for heat signatures). “Gde?”

The room goes quiet –and then you hear it.

The sound of engines rumbling –multiple engines—and car wheels crunching against gravel. Doors thumping open and shut, followed by footsteps. Hushed voices.

You scamper over to the nearest window and float up, just enough to see several men clad in black and Kevlar and carrying rifles stalking towards the front door and around the sides of the house in groups. “Guys with guns. Lots of them.”

“Then get down!” Nate hisses before yanking you back from the window.

“Lights out,” Alex orders before hitting the switch herself. “Get everyone to a reinforced room.”

“There’s a safe room at the end of the hall,” Xavier says before wheeling himself towards the door.

Allison clings to Artemis’s sleeve, much like a baby koala. “What’s going on? What’s going to happen?”

“Go with the Professor,” Artemis says. She quickly –but gently—frees her arm, then clasps the teen’s face with both hands. “Look at me. Listen to the Professor, and stay put until I come get you. Okay?”

Allison’s forehead puckers, and her lower lip starts trembling. “But—”

“Is alright,” Nikolai interjects with a kind, reassuring smile. He gently ushers Allison towards the door, then down the hall before she can protest further.

A few doors down, Karen pokes her head out of the room where she and Frank have holed up. She frowns as she takes in the chaos. “What’s going on?”

“Mafia men with guns!” Wade chirps as he half-skips, half-jogs towards the mansion’s entryway. “Tell your boy to suit up!”

“There’s a safe room at the end of the hall,” Neena adds as she runs after Wade.

Frank squeezes around Karen and kisses her temple before falling in line behind the two assassins.

You step to the side so Karen can run past you, then turn and press a hasty kiss against Piotr’s cheek. “Love you.”

He kisses your cheek in return, equally as brief. “Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu.”

And then the two of you run towards the danger bearing down on your home.

***

In all the firefights you’ve been in, there’s always this moment of silence. A calm before the storm. A moment where everything goes still, while both sides wait for the other to make a move.

You duck behind a wall as the mafia gunmen continue hammering away at the front door, tucking yourself in a shadow. Your stomach tenses, breathing going quick and hard as your mind starts putting a plan together. Don’t want to risk collapsing part of the house by doing a pressure vacuum. Best option is to probably knock them to the ground so the others can jump them.

The door rattles. The wooden portal splits on one side, sending jagged splinters poking out into the air.

You slow your breathing, forcing yourself into a calm, focused state. Wait for them to get past the entryway so you can hit as many of them as possible.

In the back of the house, near the kitchen, you hear glass shatter.

They’re in. You clench your fists at your sides, watching as the front door slowly gives way. Three… two… one…

The door breaks open, swinging inwards as the first gunmen step into the foyer—

And then the door snaps off its hinges and slams into the men, taking them out like bowling pins.

Strike, a small, inane part of your brain giggles.

Shouts go up through the house. You can hear the sounds of rushed footsteps, shattering glass, and what sounds like people being bodyslammed through tables (and, given the type of people fighting for your side, it just might be that). Gunfire pierces the air –and is accompanied by the telltale, metallic plinks of the bullets ricocheting off your husband’s armor.

Angry screams emanate from the front step. Men barge in, firing down the hall, towards some unseen target (likely Alex or Nate, given the door trick).

You wait until as many men are piled into the foyer as possible, then send down a downdraft that blows out the windows on either side of the door.

The gunmen tumble to the floor, swearing in a mixture of English and Italian.

Nate, Wade, and Neena swoop in. They descend upon the mafia men like a pack of wolves, breaking bones, dislocating joints, and cracking skulls as they disarm –and, in some cases “un-alive”—the gunmen.

“It’s raining men!” Wade sings as he runs one of his katanas through the gut of one assailant. “Hallelujah! It’s raining men!” He ramps off a nearby wall, then t-bags another man before stabbing him through the temple. “Amen!”

You crouch, tracking the movement of the scuffle. You tense when you see a couple of the men jump Nathan, then charge towards the railing and dive over when a few more try to break past to run down the hallway. You flip in the air, land in the hallway ahead of them, and unleash a blast of wind right in their faces.

The mafia men fly out through the front door. They sail over half the front drive, then bounce off the gravel surface and roll several times before coming to a stop.

You let out a harsh breath, then dart down the hall towards the kitchen when you hear glass shattering and the sound of Frank bellowing angrily.

The kitchen and rec room are a mess. Glass shards from shattered windows coat the floor, glittering before being crushed underfoot. Doors are cracked from having people slammed into them. The rec room couch is overturned –and is sagging suspiciously on one side, hinting at a cracked frame. The entertainment system is shattered, with smoking bullet holes littering the TV, speakers, and media systems.

Frank has one of the guys pinned down over the sink. He’s snarling as he uses the lip of the sink to choke the guy out. There’s blood smeared his lips and chins, trailing back up to his chin.

Another gunman stalks in through the dining room, gun trained on Frank’s head.

You whip a blast of air at the second man, sending him sailing into the wall so hard the drywall cracks.

He drops to the ground, unconscious.

There’s some terrified shrieking –and then a gunman is punted up and out of the basement stairwell. He sails through the kitchen window headfirst, crumpling in a heap in the hedges outside.

Your husband storms up the staircase, teeth bared in an angry snarl. The waning daylight glints off his metal exterior, almost making him look like some sort of avenging angel. He stops short when he sees you, though; his irate expression vanishes, replaced by concern. “Ty v poryadke?”

You manage a smile and flash him a thumbs up—

And then a truck with a Gatling gun strapped to the roof rolls up to the back door.

“Get down!” Frank hollers before tackling you to the ground behind the kitchen island.

The room explodes into chaos. Bullets plow into the walls, sending up spurts of drywall dust in their wake. Wooden doorframes and floorboards crack, unleashing cascades of splinters in every direction. Glass shatters, raining down upon everything in its reach.

Frank positions himself over you, shielding you as fragmented bullets rain down upon your both. He cups your head with his hands, doing his best to protect you from the hellfire.

Over the din, you can just make out a loud, angry bellow –and then the sound of bullets hitting metal. Heavy, deliberate stomps make the floor shake.

The gunfire cuts off. A shriek pierces the air just before you hear what sounds like a car being tossed into a tree.

(As you’ll discover later, that’s precisely what you heard.)

Frank lifts his head, then carefully rolls off you. He crouches next to you and holds out a hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Your ears are ringing, and you’re pretty sure you’ve got glass shards and splinters in your hair, but you’ve been worse. You take his hand, flinching when you hear the sound of more gunfire outside.

Frank peers over the lip of the island. “Reinforcements. At least five more cars headed our way.”

You suck in a breath. “Piotr—”

“Is holding his own for now,” Frank says.

“I’m gonna help him,” you rasp out. “Make sure everyone in the house that’s not on our side… stays down. And that we’ve still got all our people.”

Frank nods, then runs off towards the foyer.

You catch your breath, then creep towards the back door (better safe than sorry). You flatten yourself against the wall next to the doorway, then peer around the broken frame.

Piotr’s facing off against the new influx of cars. He’s got one hand on the hood of one Range Rover, arm extended out like he’s fending off a five-year-old. With his other hand, he flips another SUV over, causing the thing to land on its roof and putting the vehicle squarely out of commission.

Your stomach sinks when five more Range Rovers tear across the lawn, leaving deep, muddy tracks in their wake –and are followed by three more trucks with Gatling guns attached to the roofs. You sprint out the door, take a flying leap over Piotr, then send out a shockwave of air when you land on the ground.

A few of the cars fly backwards, rolling across the lawn like tumbleweeds. A majority of them, however, manage to stay upright or bump into each other and recover.

Your eyes widen when one of the Gatling gun operators aims directly at you. Shit.

Piotr leaps in front of you, whirling so his back is to the gun. He curls his body over yours, shielding you as gunfire rains down on you both.

You grit your teeth, grunting. You can feel the impact of the gunfire resonating through your husband’s metal body. Worry clutches at your heart when Piotr lets out sharp, ragged groans; he’s largely invulnerable in his armor, not to mention his sense of touch is severely dulled, but you know that with shit like this he’s still feeling some sort of pain –and there’s nothing you can do. You’re both pinned down, and as powerful as your shockwaves are, they’re not enough to stop or even skew the trajectory of a bullet—

Blue light washes over both of you. The sound of the gunfire wanes, replaced by warbling, pinging noises instead.

You peer around Piotr’s side to see Illyana standing between the two of you and the oncoming cars. She has her arms outstretched, palms facing the onslaught of adversaries. A shimmering, sky blue shield with various magical incantations floating through it surrounds all of you, stretching into the sky for at least forty feet.

Illyana grunts. She’s being shoved backwards from the force of impact from the bullets. Her feet are digging into the ground, leaving ruts as she tries to hold her stance. “We need new plan!”

“How about ‘stay alive?’” Piotr shouts back as he digs shrapnel out of the grooves on his arms.

Wade, Neena, Nate, and Frank come barreling out the back door, faces streaked with soot and blood. They dive for the ground, covering the backs of their heads and necks with their hands—

An explosion goes off inside the mansion. The shockwave shatters windows on both the first and second floor, blowing out window frames and trim.

Piotr covers your body with his once more. He cups your head with his hand, shielding you from the falling debris and the worst of the shockwave.

You cough and hack as smoke billows out the broken windows and doors. You do your best to make a vortex to suck the smoke away and send it up into the air. Your lungs burn, and your ears are ringing like a bell from all the gunfire and the explosion—

Four more gunmen emerge from the smoke pouring out the back door.

You snarl, then whip blasts of air at them, slamming them into the exterior walls of the house.

One of them goes down, while the other three are merely stunned.

Mikhail comes barreling out next. He lets out a guttural battle cry, then sucker punches one of the men in the back of the head before aiming a blast of rust colored energy at another’s gut.

The man screams as he sails into the air, arcing over the tree line and disappearing somewhere in the canopies.

The third man aims his gun at Mikhail –then staggers and drops to the ground when a beam of golden energy sears through his chest.

Alex storms out of the smoke with Artemis and your uncle trailing close behind her. She glares down the remaining gunmen and cars, teeth bared in a vicious snarl. Blood is flecked across her face and spattered over her leather jacket. “House is clear!”

“Yeah, except now we’re about to be cleared out!” Wade hollers back. “As in, ‘all sales final, no returns, no exchanges!’”

“If we could make plan,” Illyana screams, voice strained with the effort of holding the shield, “would be very great!”

You look over to Alex –and see her eyes widen. You whirl towards the gunmen just in time to see one of them aim a rocket launcher at all of you. “Oh, for the love of—”

The first hit is technically deflected by Illyana’s shield, insomuch that the projectile and the shield both shatter the moment they meet. The force of the magic breaking sends out a shockwave of blue energy that flies backwards into all of you, knocking those who managed to get up back off their feet and stunning the rest of you.

You groan, head reeling. Your vision clears slowly, casting double images when you move too quickly. Shit.

You can make out Piotr, just next to you. He’s lying face down on the lawn, grunting and moving in slow, clumsy movements. He turns his head, brow furrowing when he sees you, and reaches out towards you.

You extend your hand to grab his –but he’s just out of your reach, no matter how far you strain. Your body feels heavy with fatigue and pain; everything inside you is screaming to get up, to fight, to keep moving because death is knocking right on your door, and you’ll be damned if this is how you go out—

Alex recovers first –no surprise there. She shoves herself to her feet, seething and growling like a feral beast. She hurls a blast of energy at one of the cars –and, from the sounds of the carnage, makes a direct hit. She storms towards the sea of mafia men like an avenging angel, hell bound on vengeance and blood.

Audible gasps go up from the amassed assassins.

You lift your head to see several of the gunmen backing away from the mansion and crossing themselves with shaking hands. You chalk it up to Alex being Alex, and make to drop your head back against the ground once more—

And then you see Allison standing in the ruined doorway.

She’s glaring down the gunmen with a viciousness that doesn’t suit the youthful roundness of her face. Her brows are knit together, and her mouth is twisted into an ugly scowl. Her eyes are glowing a brilliant shade of blue and give off little wisps of azure colored smoke. Her skin and hair are smoking as well, creating an aura around her body. Blood drips down from her nose and onto her shirt –which is stained with ash and soot. There are burn marks and indents on her wrists from where the repression cuff and the handcuffs used to be, respectively, but the restraints themselves are gone.

The ground begins to shake. Two patches of cerulean light appear underneath the grass, growing larger until they form swirling vortexes of magical energy. The ground begins to crumble at the edges of the portals, eroding away and growing wider until they make gaping tunnels that channel so deeply into the earth there’s no telling how far they truly go.

You recoil when the smell of sulfur and smoke blenches forth from the tunnels. Shit, did she hit a gas line? Fucking dammit, like this day can get any worse—

Echoing, blood-chilling howls emanate from the tunnels.

Your eyes widen –and then your heart starts working overtime when you see two, then four massive hellhounds (like the ones Allison summoned at the mall) crawl out of the tunnels.

Shrieks of terror sound from the gunmen. Several take off running, while others try to shoot the beasts.

The hounds snap and snarl at the gunmen, then charge at the group. Two of them go off after the runners, while the other two start lunging after the assassins like they’re rabbits.

You stare at the chaos in disbelief –and then a set of strong hands grab you underneath the arms.

“Get up.” You uncle tugs you to your feet, keeping you steady when you stumble. “You can’t be in the flow of traffic for this.”

Behind you, Allison is panting like she’s run a marathon. The aura of blue smoke is growing around her, trailing into the air and floating over the ground. Veins of light spread across her face and arms, glowing the same shade of vibrant blue as her eyes. Her breathing grows louder and more ragged, until she’s growling and shaking with each exhale— and then she screams.

Much like the first confrontation in the cemetery, all those months ago, the scream unleashes a shockwave of blue energy. This time, though, the shockwave is far from a decoy for escape. It washes over you, the X-Force, your uncle, the other Rasputins, Frank, and Artemis harmlessly enough –then slams into the mafia forces and vehicles like the wall of a hurricane.

Alex charges after the shockwave, carefully trailing behind it. She waits until it clears the first line of gunmen, then slams her fist into the face of the man closest to her. She blocks his attempt to strike her, then twists his arm –dislocating the shoulder, which makes him shriek in pain. Then, she wrenches his rifle away from him. She shoots him once in the center of his forehead, then turns the firearm on his fellow men and keeps firing.

Mikhail and Artemis go after the one surviving Gatling gun. Mikhail teleports onto the truck bed; he sweeps the back of one man’s jacket over his head, effectively blinding him, then kicks the other man present in the balls before shoving him over the side of the truck.

Artemis, on the other hand, stops a few feet away from the truck. She uses her telekinesis to rip the Gatling gun off its mount, then yanks the driver out through the windscreen –headfirst, no less—and dumps him on the lawn.

He doesn’t get back up.

“Come on,” your uncle says, pointing towards the further reaches of the property, where some of the gunmen are still trying to outrun the hellhounds. “Let’s give the dogs a helping hand.”

The two of you reach out, creating a wind current that slices through the air and slams into the stragglers.

The men careen into nearby hedges –and the hellhounds have it from there.

The familiar sonic blast of Nathan’s gun rips through the air. The shot slams into the last remaining SUV, rendering the vehicle to little more than glass shards and mangled metal.

The back lawn and gardens fall silent, save for the sounds of groans of pain and the hellhounds chewing on various gunmen.

Mikhail takes a fall off the back of the truck bed. He flops onto the ruined grass below, limbs splaying like a rag doll’s. “Alright. Is time for nap. Wake me… never.”

Illyana scoffs from where she’s sat next to a smoldering bush. She picks up a nearby stone, then chucks it at her eldest brother’s head (and hits her target, no less). “There is still clean up. Bezdel'nik.”

Mikhail flips her off, then groans as he rubs the bridge of his nose.

“She’s right,” Alex lectures her eldest as she picks her way through the carnage. She nudges one body with the toe of her combat boot, then shoots him through the temple when he groans.

“Mama!” Piotr gapes at her, expression scandalized. He sputters, looking between her and the body at her feet.

“Chto? Vy khotite yego zhivym? Chtoby on mog dolozhit' svoim khozyayevam? Chtoby on mog obrushit' adskiy ogon' na etu shkolu i vsekh, kogo vy lyubite? No –no.” She holds up her index finger and stares sternly at Piotr when he tries to argue. “You do not leave enemies on your six o’clock, medvezhonok. First rule of survival.”

Piotr swallows hard, then says softly, “X-Men do not kill.”

Alex shrugs. “And I am not an X-Man.”

“We’ll handle it,” Nathan says. He holds his hand out for Alex’s rifle, nodding when she hands it to him after a moment’s hesitation.

(Wade and Frank are already working their way through the sea of dead and wounded. Frank’s traversing the chaos methodically, sticking to minimal shots to kill the survivors, while Wade’s alternating between singing “Dancing Queen” and getting post-mortem revenge.

“You shot my dick off inside!” Wade gasps as he peers down at a –slightly chewed on—corpse. “Extra bullets for you!” He then shoots the dead body several times before resuming his pitchy serenade.)

“What now?” Allison asks, staring out at the carnage with a slightly shocked expression.

“‘What now?’” Artemis repeats, laughing incredulously. She stomps towards Allison, pulling a pack of tissues out of her inner jacket pocket. “What the hell are you even doing out here? You were supposed to stay in the safe room—”

“They had cameras in there,” Allison says with a roll of her eyes, as if that justifies her decision to join the fracas. “You guys were getting your asses kicked.”

“We would’ve handled it.”

“Yeah, except you weren’t,” Allison fires back. She scrunches up her face when Artemis starts wiping the blood off her face, but otherwise takes the mothering without any complaint.

“It’s not your responsibility to deal with this shit,” Artemis says, voice and expression softening for a moment. She cleans up Allison’s face –then scowls. “And where the fuck are your cuffs? How did you even get out of them?”

Allison shrugs. “I used my powers to short the repression cuff out and ash it off.”

Illyana’s, Alex’s, and your uncle’s heads all snap around to stare at Allison.

“Are you kidding me?” Artemis hisses through clenched teeth. “You could’ve fucking killed yourself!”

“Or caused magical paradox that ripped hole in space-time continuum,” Illyana snaps.

“Ruptured blood vessels in your brain and caused an aneurysm, made the cuff deliver a lethal electrical shock, turned your magic against your own body and rendered yourself to ash,” your uncle continues, ticking off items on his fingers.

“Well, I didn’t do any of that!” Allison snarls, glaring at the others while Artemis keeps cleaning up her face. “And I made sure you losers won the fight –so fuck off!”

“Get her something to eat and drink,” Alex says. “Her blood sugar is bound to be low after pulling a stunt like that.”

Artemis glares at Alex and opens her mouth to respond—

Across the yard, Wade lets out a pained shriek. “My balls are not fetch toys! Bad Fido! Bad!”

Your eyes widen as you watch one of the hellhounds swing Wade around by his legs. You bite down on your lip, holding in a shock-induced laugh.

“Where’s this mutt’s off-switch –hey, hey! No!” Wade wriggles in the hellhound’s mouth, panicking as another beast bounds towards him. “My spine is not a tug toy! Can someone get rid of Fido and Rufus before they rip me in half!”

Allison snorts –then, before anyone can stop her, holds out her hand and flicks her wrist.

All four hellhounds melt back into the ground, disappearing to the depths of hell from whence they came.

Artemis swears under her breath, then catches the teen when she stumbles. She moves frantically, grabbing more tissues as blood starts pouring out of Allison’s nose once more. “You fucking idiot. Why the fuck did you do that? When are you going to fucking learn that you’re not invincible—”

Allison lets out a sharp, hoarse laugh –then passes out.

…

The wreckage inside the mansion is heartbreaking.

You stare at the ruined furniture, the scorched walls, the splintered doors, the ruined rec room and kitchen, and you have to wonder what was the fucking point?

Part of you understands that the mafia came prepared for war; they were going up against powerful mutants, so –naturally—they would want to be prepared. Having the strongest, most powerful weapons available increased their chances of success. Logically –from a strictly tactical standpoint—it makes sense.

Glass crunches under your shoes. You stare down at a litany of fallen picture frames, heart wrenching as you stare at the ruined pictures of graduates, students, and workers inside. We’re just a school. We work with kids. What was the point of trying to wipe us out?

Piotr ambles up behind you. He puts his arms around your shoulders and kisses the top of your head. “Cleaners and repairmen will be here in less than one hour.”

You feel numb. You place your hand on his arm. “That’s good.”

“We have back ups of pictures,” he murmurs. He kisses your cheek. “Insurance to cover replacing damaged items. We will be fine.”

“I know.” You sigh, leaning back against your husband’s chest. “We’re just a school. What… what was the point? Why try to wipe us out?”

“I do not know.” Piotr kisses your other cheek, hugging you reassuringly. “Perhaps they believed we knew information about ‘family business.’ Or that we were protecting Allison for some reason.”

“She’s just a kid,” you argue, voice breaking as your grief and exhaustion wells up and threatens to overtake you. “She’s only thirteen…”

Piotr says nothing, merely holds you closer.

You sigh—

And then a door slams. Hurried stomps echo down the hall. There’s creaking as a door opens again, followed by more footsteps and exasperated shouts.

Allison storms past you and Piotr, heading towards the kitchen. Her jaw is set, fists clenched at her sides.

You and Piotr look at each other –then follow after her, if only to be sure that nothing else is going to explode today.

She slams her hands down on the island counter –and, on the opposite side, Frank and Karen both flinch and stare at her warily.

Allison glares at Frank, jaw working convulsively. Her shoulders heave with each breath she takes. Her eyes shine with unshed tears, making the bags underneath seem darker and deeper by comparison. She trembles, expression flickering wildly between grief, white hot rage, and the neutral mask she’s trying so desperately to hold. She sucks in a breath that sounds more like a pained sob, then stares Frank down and spits out through gritted teeth, “You leave my people alone, I leave yours alone. Deal?”

Frank sighs. He nods, expression heavy with grief and eyes shining with remorse. “Yeah, kid. You got a deal.”

Allison clenches the edge of the island so hard her hands go white. She lets out a strangled, angry laugh as the tears finally start to fall. She ducks her head briefly, then glares back up at Frank. “I fucking hate you.”

Frank grimaces, but nods and says, “I know kid. It’s okay. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“That ain’t worth shit.”

“I know… believe me, I know.”

Artemis –who’d previously been watching at the kitchen threshold—steps forward and puts her arm around Allison’s shoulders. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

Allison clenches her teeth together, but still lets out a choked sob. She presses her lips together, looking around the room to try and regain her composure, to stop the flow of tears. She manages a deep breath, then takes one last look at Frank and snarls, “If I have to see your fucking face again, I’m ripping out your guts,” before storming out of the room.

Frank, to his credit, doesn’t respond (though you suspect he feels too guilty to even consider arguing). He merely hangs his head, expression that of a kicked dog.

Karen leans against him. She interlocks her fingers with his, murmuring in his ear (likely about how it isn’t his fault, and while it looks like that may technically be the case, you’re glad you don’t have to walk the spider’s silk of a line those facts lie upon).

What a shitshow.

Piotr puts an arm around your shoulders and gently leads you out of the kitchen. “Come on, myshka. Let’s go find spot to rest.”

…

Frank and Karen leave shortly after “making the deal” with Allison.

Allison and Artemis hang back for a bit to talk to Xavier. You don’t get all the gorey details but from what you can tell, it’s essentially an offer to help train Allison’s powers so she doesn’t hurt herself rolled in with a warning to keep her nose clean, stay on the straight and narrow, etcetera etcetera.

The sun’s just starting its descent from the sky before the two of them walk out of the meeting room.

Allison is wearing Artemis’s jacket and looks downright haggard.

Artemis has her arm around the teen and is gently guiding her while she talks to Xavier (though, perhaps the term “talk” is too generous, considering most of her responses are nods or terse, one-to-two word replies).

The rest of the Rasputin family, you, Piotr, and your uncle are all gathered in the foyer to make sure Allison and Artemis leave without too much trouble (or causing more trouble themselves).

Your uncle is sweating bullets and looks like he just shit his pants; he’s glancing between Alex and their daughter so fast it’s a miracle he hasn’t given himself a headache yet.

Now or never, you think, watching him with pursed lips. Tell your secrets before they’re told for you.

Alex kneels down next to Allison. “Are you okay?”

Allison’s gaze doesn’t leave the floor. “The fuck do you think?”

She quirks her mouth to the side. “Not all that good.” Alex ducks her head lower, trying to catch Allison’s gaze. “You remember what we talked about?”

Allison’s eyes narrow. She moves her gaze away from Alex. “Go to hell. I know what I know.”

“Sometimes… it’s better to not,” Alex says. She stares at Allison for a moment longer, then pats her shoulder before standing and walking away.

Artemis stares after Alex, expression morphing rapidly between fury and shock. She sputters for a moment before snapping, “What –that’s all you have to fucking say?”

Alex pauses, turning slightly so she can see Artemis. She raises one eyebrow, otherwise looking unbothered. “Is there something else I should be saying?”

“You don’t have anything to say to me?” Artemis presses, crossing her arms over her chest. “Nothing at all?”

“Is there something you want me to say to you?” Alex fires back, smirking slightly.

Artemis stares at Alex for a long, hard moment. She shakes her head, eyes welling up with tears, then turns her glare onto your uncle. “You really didn’t fucking tell her.”

“What?” Alex’s expression sobers, going wary as she looks between your uncle and Artemis. “What didn’t you—”

“This really isn’t the time or place—” Your uncle tries.

And here it goes.

“I’ve gotta do all the work, then,” Artemis snarls with a vicious smile. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense, considering I’m not your favorite,” she tacks on with an angry glare towards you. She storms towards Alex, one hand outstretched, with a cruel, angry smile stretched across her face. “Hey, mom. How’s it going?”

Alex’s eyes widen. She stares at Artemis, eyes tracking over the younger woman’s face. “What…”

“You fucking heard me.”

Illyana, Piotr, and Mikhail look at each other, then at Alex, then at Nikolai. They explode into confused Russian, gesturing between their parents, Artemis, and your uncle—

Realization dawns in Alex’s dark eyes. Her expression trembles, tears welling up in her eyes as she stares at Artemis’s face.

And then she uses her telekinesis to yank your uncle over and decks him.

[remedialpotions]

The Forbidden Forest

For my friend @jamezbot 🤖 and his love of this particular, super-canonical, not-at-all-ridiculous ship.

I cannot emphasize this enough: this is a crack fic.

***

It was the clicking of Ron’s fingers in front of his face that finally snapped Harry back to reality.

“Mate,” said Ron, half-laughing as he sat back down on his bed, “what’s wrong with you? I’d say you look like you’ve seen a ghost, but that’s actually not all that strange around here-“

“No,” Harry interrupted. His voice felt hollow, detached from him somehow. “Definitely not a ghost.”

He still struggled to believe it - even after all of the bizarre things that had happened in his life - but what he had seen had been very, very real.

“Where’ve you been, anyway?” Ron swung his long legs over the side of his bed, feet flat on the stone floor. “It’s nearly midnight.”

“Erm-“ Harry gulped. “Just... out. With Ginny.”

A grimace flashed over Ron’s face, then he said, “then why’ve you got this look on your face? Did you ditch her?” he demanded. “I swear to Merlin, Harry, if you-“

“No! No, nothing like that.”

“All right, well then - oh fuck, it’s not Malfoy, is it?”

“No, no - all right, listen. Something - something happened,” he began. “But if I tell you, you’ve got to promise not to tell anyone else.”

“What, not even Hermione?”

“Fine, but just her.” Harry paused, eyes darting around the quiet dorm room. Neville’s garbled snores sounded from behind the closed curtains of one bed; Seamus and Dean’s beds were both empty. They’d both been out past curfew more and more lately. “So listen, Ginny and I were out on a, erm, a walk-“

Ron’s features twisted into disgust. “Ugh, come on, mate, I know what happens on these so-called walks-“

“That’s not the point! Just listen.”

“Harry,” Ginny laughed against his lips, her fingers curling in his hair, “we’re going to get caught-“

“So what?” Harry kissed her again. “What’re they gonna do? Expel us?”

“I know, but-“ Ginny glanced toward the greenhouse, where lantern light flickered behind the dingy glass. “Professor Sprout is still - mmm - still in there-“

Even as Harry couldn’t stop himself kissing her again, it did occur to him that he didn’t particularly relish being found in such a compromising state by anyone, let alone a teacher.

“Yeah, I reckon you’re right.”

Ginny grinned, her face still close to his. “I know.”

“I’ve got an idea, though. Come on.”

Ginny extracted herself from his lap, and they stood, then started off hand-in-hand across the school grounds. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, bathing everything in dusky blue light. All was quiet and calm; even the Whomping Willow could not be bothered to wave its branches at them as they passed, and Hagrid’s hut was completely dark.

“The forest?” said Ginny as they approached the row of trees that marked its perimeter. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, it’s perfect. No one ever goes in here.”

“You don’t think there’s a reason for that?”

“Can you get on with the story already?” interrupted Ron. “‘Cause I know I said I’m all right with it, and I am, but I don’t love hearing about you and my little sister looking for a place to get off-“

“And I don’t really love telling you about it,” replied Harry. “But if you’d just let me get to the point-“

“Sorry, sorry. Go on, then.”

“So where are the centaurs?” asked Ginny as they wound through the thick maze of trees.

“Way further in,” Harry assured her. “We don’t need to go that far.”

“And Grawp?”

“He won’t bother us.” Harry slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. “He likes Hermione best, anyway.”

Ginny’s laugh sounded through the quiet air. “Poor Ron’s always got competition.”

Harry chuckled and leaned over, intent on kissing her cheek, when the sound of a twig snapping caused Ginny to freeze in her arms.

“What was that?”

Harry shrugged. “Thestral, maybe?”

“Yeah, maybe.” She didn’t sound convinced.

“Here, let’s just go over-“ Harry’s words died in his throat, because now he wasn’t just hearing the sound of twigs snapping; deep, very human-sounding murmurs met their ears.

“Oh my God,” Ginny breathed. “It’s Dean and Seamus.”

“You think so?”

“Definitely.” Even in the low light, he could see her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Sounds like two blokes, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it actually does.”

“We’ve got to investigate,” said Ginny, her voice a low, excited whisper. “Please? We won’t let on that we’re there or anything, I just want to see-“

“You want to see your ex-boyfriend snogging his new boyfriend?”

Ginny nodded, gleeful. “Yeah, I do! Let’s go see. Please?”

Harry, admittedly, was curious - he had heard the rumors, he’d suspected, but he didn’t really know, not for certain - and anyway, it didn’t really matter what Ginny asked of him. He’d do it without a second thought.

And so they crept, careful to keep their footsteps light lest they make their presence known, in the direction of the voices. The thing was, the closer they got, the less it sounded like Dean or Seamus. There was no sign of Seamus’ Irish brogue, nor Dean’s London accent. And these voices didn’t sound like those of teenagers, either: they were timeworn and mature.

“‘M so glad ter be with yeh again,” came a gruff voice from within a particularly thick copse of trees. “Feels like it’s been ages.”

Harry’s stomach leapt into his throat - this was Hagrid.

“Merlin’s pants,” Ginny breathed. “Who do you think he’s with? Madame Maxime?”

But before Harry could answer, another voice - this one just as familiar and yet just as surprising - responded.

“I’ve missed you as well, Rubeus. I regret how little time we’ve been able to spend together lately.”

It was a voice Harry would have known on his death bed. It was one that had imparted wisdom and had comforted him in his darkest moments. One that had been a constant source of safety and stability in an increasingly uncertain world.

It was none other than Albus Dumbledore.

Next to him, Ginny positively quivered with excitement.

“We should go,” Harry muttered, trying to steer Ginny by the waist. “We shouldn’t be here-“

“Are you kidding?” Ginny hissed back. “We have to go see this.”

As she crept, catlike, through the forest, Harry had no choice but to follow in her footsteps.

“You’re fucking with me,” said Ron decisively. “And I mean, twenty points to Gryffindor for creativity, but-“

“I’m not,” Harry insisted. “I’m really, really not. When have I ever lied to you?”

“I don’t know, but maybe you’ve decided to start-“

“With this?!”

“I don’t know!” Ron threw his hands helplessly in the air. “Maybe Ginny’s put you up to it, to see what you can get me to believe-“

“She hasn’t. And anyway, the story’s not over.”

“Look!” Ginny pointed into the copse of trees, her face a mixture of shock and utter delight. “Oh my God, this is mad.”

Harry wasn’t sure what he expected to see, but it certainly wasn’t Dumbledore, in spangled, midnight-blue robes, leaning back against the trunk of a tree with Hagrid pressed closely against him. Their Care of Magical Creatures professor positively dwarfed their wizened Headmaster, but neither seemed to mind. Dumbledore, in fact, seemed to relish it as he entwined his long, wrinkled fingers in Hagrid’s bushy beard.

“Are we hallucinating?” asked Ginny. “We’ve got to be, right?”

“I don’t think I could hallucinate something like this.”

As they watched, rapt, Hagrid wrapped a massive hand around Dumbledore’s thin, knobby one. “It pains me ter see yeh hurting, Albus,” said Hagrid as he pressed a whiskery kiss to Dumbledore’s blackened fingers. “Are yeh sure it’s worth it?”

“It is for the greater good.” Dumbledore rose up on his toes, reaching toward Hagrid, and as their lips met, their beards brushed. “Soon, my love, it will all make sense.”

“My love,” Ron repeated weakly. “You’re sure you heard right?”

“Oh, quite.”

“So...” Ron raked his fingers through his hair. “So Hagrid and Dumbledore are-“

“Yeah.”

“D’you reckon they’re... er...” Ron gestured uncomfortably, waving his large hands awkwardly around. “Y’know-“ He laced his fingers together; his implication was clear.

“I didn’t exactly have a chance to ask,” Harry retorted.

“Well, yeah, I just - how would that work, exactly? Hagrid’s so much...” Words failing him, Ron resorted again to gesticulating wildly. “Er - bigger-”

“I don’t know!”

Harry’s sharp words rang out in the silence of the dorm, and they both froze as there came a rustling of sheets from Neville’s bed.

“Well,” said Ron, once Neville had resumed snoring, “makes sense when you think about it, doesn’t it? The way Hagrid’s always talked about him, I just thought he admired him - great wizard, and all that - but I s’pose it must be more.”

“Yeah, I s’pose it is.”

“But,” added Ron, pointing a finger at Harry in mock seriousness, “I really don’t want any more stories about you snogging my sister.”

“I don’t want to tell any more of them, so we’re good.”

[odetogyus]

wait

↳pairing/s: idol boyfriend!yugyeom x fem!reader

↳genre: angst (w/ a happy ending lol), idol!au

↳warnings: profanity, mentions of alcohol consumption, trust issues

↳song: wait by maroon 5

✎author's note: idk what I was going through when I wrote this but this was from my 2018 archive and I think this baby needs to see the light of day,, so here it is!

—

"The concert should be done now," you thought to yourself while staring at your phone.

Since your brother's wedding was in 2 days, you didn't have time to fly to Toronto to see your boyfriend and his group perform. You've been on a few tours with them– sometimes working as a stylist for Yugyeom and the whole team. JYP himself even sends you an extra ticket to every single country the boys go to just in case you wanted to come with, but this time however, you had to stay home to help out with your brother's wedding.

It's been almost 3 years since you started dating Yugyeom. What started out as a very unexpected interaction at a dance showcase, later bloomed into something so beautiful. Your relationship wasn't always pretty. In fact, it's true what they say about the first year; it definitely is the hardest.

You've seen them grow, not just as artists but as people, too. You've built such tight relationships with each and every one of them, even the staff members. GOT7 was a family and you were over the moon to be a part of it.

After a few hours of waiting, you decided to take a hot shower before taking a nap. It was a tiring day for you and your family. The wedding was in 2 days and there were a lot of things left to do. You also knew very well that the boys come out exhausted after every show, and so you fought back the slightest feeling of worry in your head and fell into a deep sleep.

–

You woke up to the sound of your phone going off.

BREAKING NEWS

MEMBERS OF THE KPOP GROUP– GOT7, WERE SEEN AT A CLUB IN TORONTO AFTER THEIR CONCERT. MEMBERS MARK TUAN, JACKSON WANG & KIM YUGYEOM WERE SPOTTED HEAVILY INTOXICATED WITH 3 UNKNOWN WOMEN JOINING THEM AT THEIR TABLE. NO OFFICIAL STATEMENTS REGARDING THE INCIDENT HAS BEEN RELEASED BY JYP ENTERTAINMENT.

People you knew and didn't know were tagging you everywhere. Every photograph, every article, they all had their eyes on Yugyeom, and they all had their eyes on you, too.

Your brother's fiancée barged into your room shortly after the news broke out. She was always there for you, and the relationship you shared was a very special one. You trusted her, and you never hid anything from her after the first time she saw you cry.

"Y/N," your almost sister-in-law cooed. You both knew that it was very unlikely of Yugyeom to act that way, but then again, the people surrounding them aren’t always angels. No one really is.

Just then, the name you've been waiting to see finally popped up on your screen, but this time, you weren't sure if you had the guts to answer him.

"Should I answer?" You asked, sounding miserable as ever. Tears escaped your eyes, glistening like broken glass when the sunlight hits the surface.

"You need to hear it from him, Y/N. I'll be in the kitchen, let me know if you need anything."

Accepting the call, you swallowed hard enough and prepared yourself for what could either be the most painful truth you had to hear, or the biggest lie ever you had to believe.

"Y/N.. hey, please let me explain," Yugyeom's voice was incredibly raspy and shaky, and you knew damn well that he was in tears. It's only been a few hours since the incident, so it was safe to say that he was still quite hungover. You knew they were well taken care of, but what happened cannot be rewritten again. What's done is done.

"Go ahead," you answered. Holding back your tears is always the hardest when you know that you have no choice but to endure the pain.

"We had a few drinks, and we had fun. We had so much fun. The boys and I, the staff. Me and Jackson hyung tried the hose thingy, it was so– cool– but, but I'm sorry babe, I'm so sorry–"

"Do you just.. wanna talk when you’re not like.. this, Yugyeom? Because if you're gonna keep doing this, I might as well just hang up and talk to my fucking wall–"

Oh, the theatrics of a brokenhearted beast.

"No.. stop, listen to me, I'm trying to explain!"

"Okay, then do it," you said angrily. The tears from your eyes were flowing down uncontrollably. It was so painful that you couldn't even hear anything else but the sound of his lies breaking you continuously.

"Mark hyung joined us, and we got so drunk, and next thing you know, these random girls sat with us at the table. I don't remember a lot but– I think one even bit my neck– it hurts, and she– I think she sat on my lap but I think I tried to push her off but I passed out. I don't really remember anything else–"

"You know, Gyeom? Sometimes, I wish you knew what it's like to be the one that patiently waits for you to come home, hoping that the worries in your head just disappear. How could you be so irresponsible? Man.. how could you do this to me? To us?"

"Y/N, you know I love you more than anything else but for fuck's sake, will you please believe me? My head hurts so much and you're acting up! Jesus!"

Yugyeom knew not to push your buttons, but in that state of his, he pushed it all, not missing one.

"Well, if that’s the case then I’m sorry. I’m sorry for caring too much, and for being all up in your business all the fucking time. Have fun remembering how you got that stupid hickey of yours, I’m done–"

"No, you are not hanging up on me, Y/N. It was a mistake, okay? God, my head is killing me and I just.. need you to believe me. I drank too much, and I know it’s bad, but I swear to fucking God, I didn’t do anything to hurt you. I would never hurt you. But you need.. to stop being difficult.. you’re making things worse here–"

The tension grew even more. You were both screaming your lungs out at each other, thousands of miles away from the other.

"Really now?" You spat bitterly. That was it for you. The last straw. "Well then, I know my brother invited you to the wedding, but don't bother showing up. I don't want to see you."

Your harsh words must've hurt Yugyeom so much, that his screams of anger just managed to slip out of his already worn out body.

"You're really throwing this all away– huh? Almost 3 years worth of memories? Just because I made a mistake, just because I don't remember everything that happened to me while I was intoxicated? You think I wanted those girls to come close to us? You're so– Y/N, you really think I wanted to hurt you, don't you? So now.. you do this? You're really breaking up with me? On the phone? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Trust, Yugyeom. Trust. You broke the most important thing we built. Do you know how hard it is to do this? To date someone like you? People send me death threats, Yugyeom. Just because I decided to be with you. Do you even know how I feel? Do you know how Mark's girlfriend feels? How Jackson's girlfriend feels? Because I do. We all fucking get it!"

"Okay, trust. But let me ask you Y/N, if things were so difficult, why are you still here? Why date me when you could've left? That's what you wanna do anyway, right? You wanna leave, you wanna be free, right?"

But it’s not freedom if it’s not with you.

The bitter taste of surprise was too much for you. It was never meant to hurt that much, but it did.

"Wanna know why I'm still here, Yugyeom?"

"Why," he spat coldly.

"Because I thought that– loving you, oh god, I thought that that was more than enough to believe that we'd make it. But at this point, maybe we're both just better off alone. Separate ways, Gyeom."

Yugyeom let out a faint laugh. The most painful laugh one could ever laugh. A laugh of defeat.

"You're really doing this, huh? This is what you want? You're really doing this to us–"

"You don't need to show up at the wedding.. I'll just, tell them about us after. We'll meet when we're both ready to talk. Be safe."

"Fuck this, Y/N. Fuck–"

And with that, you hung up.

Your heart was broken once again, not by the same person, but because of the same reason you kept your heart safe and hidden in the first place.

Trust.

Yugyeom was your true love. The man you believed to be was your person. The person you entrusted your fragile self to. The person you needed.

But maybe he doesn't need you.

Putting your phone on silent, you cried yourself to sleep, wishing you'd never wake up.

—

wedding day.

Your eyes were still tired and gloomy, but you were better. You haven't heard from him since the fight and although it hurt you too much to be that person to hang up and end things, you knew better than to mope all day and question your existence.

"You look so beautiful in that dress! I'm so happy you chose that style! It's just perfect," your brother's soon-to-be wife exclaimed. She was the one who held you tight when your heart broke for the wrong guy, and she was also the one who held you when Yugyeom couldn't. It's safe to say she's the sister you never had.

"Thanks, I'm happy to be here. I'm so excited for you and my brother. I don't know what you see in him but I'm thankful you stuck around."

The bride smiled with tears welling up in her eyes. "You stick around for the one you love, Y/N. Even when the storm hits and everything falls apart, wait it out, then love again."

The wedding venue was everything you imagined it to be. A beautiful pathway to the garden, red and white roses everywhere, and photographs of your brother and his soon-to-be wife hung from the stringed lights wrapped around the tall trees to create the most beautiful ambiance.

Your quick peek of the venue ended since it was almost time for the actual ceremony. You were one of the bridesmaids, and you had to be wherever the bride was.

From afar, a tall figure walked towards the venue in a red suit. His dark hair complemented his outfit, and his handsome face was the cherry on top of it all.

Yugyeom showed up to the wedding a few minutes before it actually started. He took his time exchanging words of happiness and support to your brother. Yugyeom's relationship with your brother started out like any other brother – boyfriend relationship, but the two ended up being very close friends. A few moments before announcing the beginning of the ceremony, Yugyeom found his way to his seat. He sat close to the front, but in the corner.

The ceremony began, and every second felt longer than it should have. Closing your eyes, you took slow, but steady, steps to the podium where your brother was. You both agreed to welcome the bride with your whole family present next to him.

dirty looks from your mother

never seen you in a dress that color, no

it's a special occasion

not invited but I'm glad I made it

He looked at you like it's the first time he's ever laid eyes on you. His heart thumped like crazy, seeing how your hair fell perfectly down the length of your spine, in a red dress that exposed most of your back. Yugyeom couldn't resist every urge to kiss you. Every thought of you possibly breaking up with him completely made the poor boy pale. He was madly in love with you, in every possible way, that losing you meant losing everything to him.

The moment you stood next to your brother, your eyes met his. The eyes you hated to look into, but missed the most. Yugyeom stared at you for a long time, before you both snapped out of the trance only you two were in. You saw him mouth a "wow" before facing the bride and giving her a hug.

Walking to your designated seat, your mind went crazy just imagining how hard it would be to keep your composure when Yugyeom would literally be inches away from you.

"Beautiful," Yugyeom said in awe as you sat next to him. "You're beautiful, Y/N."

Without looking at him, you extended your gratitude. "Thank you, Yugyeom," was all you could say.

You both tried so hard to focus on the wedding. For the most part, it felt like no one else was there. You were in the moment, and so was he.

The exchange of vows was definitely something. Every word your brother and his wife exchanged was pure love. And deep down, you prayed that the love you needed was Yugyeom's.

oh, let me apologize

i'll make up, make up, make up, make up for all those times

your love, I don't wanna lose

i'm begging, begging, begging, begging, I'm begging you

As if on cue, Yugyeom held your hand without looking at you. His hand was shaky, and so was yours, but you didn't pull away. You held onto him, too. You held onto him like your life depended on it, and you held onto the person that longs for you the most.

"I do," your brother speaks into the microphone, looking at his woman. Yugyeom holds your hand even tighter, saying the same words your brother said, loud enough for you to hear it. Only you.

I do.

The bride reciprocates, and tears immediately stream down your face as the rush of emotions take over you.

Not wanting to lose the love of your life ever again, you follow suit, and said the same words the bride said. Only for you and Yugyeom, it meant something else. Only something the two of you could understand.

I do.

You both stood firmly, not letting go of each other, when the officiator finally said the words everyone wanted to hear.

You may now kiss the bride.

Not wasting a precious second, Yugyeom pulled you into a tight embrace, holding your head against his chest. His lips planted kisses at the top of your head, and suddenly everything was right in the world.

The scent of his perfume was home to you, and it made you feel so much better.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so stupid, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry," Yugyeom whispered, still keeping you in his arms.

"I'm sorry, too, Gyeom," you answered, trying hard not to let the tears roll down your cheek and ruin your makeup.

Yugyeom finally kissed you.

He kissed you without stealing the spotlight from the newly weds. He kissed you softly, but it was clear that he longed for it. For you. He kissed you just the way you needed to be kissed, reminding you that he is yours in full surrender.

"I love you, Gyeom."

You finally meet his gaze. The prettiest eyes you've ever seen, and he really was the best thing that's ever happened to you.

"I love you, Y/N. I love you."

Wait it out, then love again.

[helenazbmrskai]

Not Alone

Title Not Alone

Pairing Yoongi x OC

Summary University is kicking your ass so you always make sure to dedicate a day for yourself and take time to pamper your body and soul. However, you’re cautious around Yoongi your roommate and double-check the d-day to prevent accidents. You're not a fan of revealing any skin because of your insecurities but it’s just happening to be the day when you are - not so alone.

Genre university au, roommate au, romance and fluff, smut

Warning(s) smut (body worshipping, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, messy sex, first time, virgin reader, dirty talk, vanilla sex, yoongi has a virgin kink but not explicitly mentioned) implication of insecure reader, shy and curvy reader

Word count: 9k

Masterlist

This universe is related to my other fic I wrote recently ’one time boy space friend’ you can read that one here.

Washing the excess shaving cream off of my hand I grab my phone I previously placed on the toilet’s folded lid lightly humming the outline of the song currently playing. The new playlist Yoongi recommended is full of bangers as always I have no doubt his fate was eventually to end up as a music major. I take a glance at my reflection when I was able to secure the new position for my phone on the laundry basket with the top slightly open reminding me that I need to do laundry if I want to have clothes to wear.

I take a glance at my reflection removing the fog that made the lines of my face blurry with a towel hanging next to the sink on a hook realising later that I used Yoongi’s looking back at the sheepish smile that greets me in the mirror I placed the fabric back hoping that Yoongi won’t mind.

An unknown rap song’s first beats suddenly interrupted by an incoming call that the familiar piano version of my favourite song signalled. I smile seeing the callers ID, placing the toner back to its dust-filled spot next to Yoongi’s shaving cream I make sure to use the right towel this time to dry my hands with before swiping right on the call.

”Hey, What’s the matter?” I answer it with a huge grin plastered on my face making my cheeks ride up into a chipmunk-like smile.

Our class was cancelled at the last minute so I wasn’t expecting a call from her she told me while we were waiting for the instructor to arrive that she has plans with his boyfriend Jimin. Only having calculus that day after an exchanged heated curses for our lazy professor for not e-mailing about the reschedule I happily took a sweet nap and made an easy breakfast I normally don’t have time to consume or even make in the morning I was able to get my relaxing time to start earlier so it meant more time for me since Yoongi supposedly took the afternoon shift.

This piece of information I remembered while chewing on my sandwich as I thanked the gods that I overheard his conversation about the shift change last night when I went to get my late-night snack but seeing the date expired on the comfort food I had to engage in a yoghurt instead.

”Y/N. Are you home?” She asked matching my good mood in the background I heard clinking noises of a pan she must be cooking. I insert my head through the large black t-shirt’s hole as I started to freeze standing here only in my undergarments the effect of the hot shower faded leaving me in the significantly colder bathroom.

”Of course. I started my pamper routine. I cannot tell you how good it feels to be hairless. If only my hair would grow this fast.” She chuckles hearing my banter the faint sounds of crepitation usually the hot oil makes overpowering her giggle for a few seconds. I remember the sandwich I ate this morning around ten-ish that did not prove to be enough. I get sidetracked with what should I make for lunch.

”Oh, so Yoongi is working?” Knowing about my only one rule regarding this d-day I like to call it is that no man should be around when I’m wearing this revealing clothing. He only saw me wearing jeans and yoga pants before these jelly-like legs cannot make a debut in front of eyes outside of mine.

”Yep.” I confirm. I take a look at the time I still have lots of time to relax before I should start that assignment I postponed.

I have everything planned out since Yoongi usually comes home from work in a grumpy state he likes to shower first and then he retreats into his room to do his assignments and sometimes he writes a song or the song even could be the assignment itself I honestly don’t know how’s everyday life as a music major. Yoongi is not exactly the talkative type.

My silent activity is helping his concentration and the best thing is that I have the apartment by myself to do what I please and leave the comfort of my room wearing what I please without worrying.

The best would be if I could rent out my own apartment but I know I wouldn’t be able to pay it by myself and the fact that Yoongi and I share the expenses of the bill makes things so much more easier.

”Why did you call though? I’m sure it’s not because you already miss me.” Tired of holding the phone up I place it back where it was before leaving the call on speakers so I can rub the cocoa scented lotion into the skin on my legs.

”Right. I almost forgot. Jin taught you that Mexican dish that I don’t know how to pronounce its name, right?” Her voice fades a little mid-sentence probably changed ears hearing the cooking noises seeping through the background she seemed very busy.

”What about it?” I question closing the lid of the lotion after I rub the remaining cream on my hand onto my neck so nothing goes to waste.

”I need the recipe.” She demands. I laugh how desperate she sounds through the phone. I make my way out of the bathroom I need my notebook since I didn’t memorise the dish I only made it once and as it was previously stated with the help of Jin.

”Hold on I don’t remember where I left the notes.” I arrive at the kitchen area placing the phone on the counter I begin rummaging through the drawers bending down to peek at the content of each. Spoons and forks. The second one where Yoongi placed the aprons and towels my notebook must be in the last one. ”So, what are the plans for today?” I ask while still searching for the black shiny cover of my notebook.

”Well, I wanted to cook something Italian since Jimin told me once he wanted to try it out but a crucial ingredient is missing so I thought about making that one you told me about a few weeks ago at Jin’s birthday party. After I’m finally done with this shit I’m going to sneak into his room to give him the blowjob of his life while he’s playing some shit games boys do and tell him lunch is ready.” The huge breath she took before starting the word vomiting makes me praise her lung capacity.

Finally. The book was under the aprons what a hassle. I straighten up turning the pages when I hear the front door opening and shut soon after. I turn to see the face of the intruder as I’m still standing in the middle of the kitchen with my hair evidently wet from the shower I took earlier only in my panties and a huge ass shirt to cover myself with.

Yoongi drops his coffee-stained shirt by the foot of the couch the angle is letting me see the living room area without a problem but he can’t clearly see the kitchen from there but my relief is not long-lasting as my friend decides to choose that moment to speak drawing Yoongi’s attention to where I’m standing.

”Y/N are you still there? Shit. I burnt my finger.” Grabbing the phone off the counter I switch off the speaker option and push the device against my ear.

”Yeah, um, I’ll send you the recipe via message. Good luck. Bye.” I aggressively push the red phone button at the bottom left side of the screen until the call ends. Hearing my voice Yoongi walks through the door separating the living room and the kitchen to halt his steps when he takes the image in.

It’s not one of those best times to ponder over how good looking he’s after finishing work and how he always smells like freshly brewed coffee which is not a surprise knowing the fact that he works at a coffee shop near our rented place.

He doesn’t wear the shirt uniform it must be the one he got rid of because of the stains today he wears a simple white t-shirt with washed-out blue jeans. Focusing on his face again I see that his eyes no longer studying my face instead his gaze dipped lower and I swear he's not so subtle about ogling at my exposed legs. My legs!

”You’re … early.” I talk first considering my options. A, I can still make a run for it but the damage is already done. He saw me. Or B, I can try to make small talk pretending that nothing is embarrassing at all just to later enter my room and dig a hole with all of my self-pity and scream into my pillow.

”Um, there was a shift change but I finished 2 hours early in return.” He explains this time his gaze was on my face the entire time no more strayed glimpses. Fuck. I should have paid attention to the whole conversation. ”Don’t you .. have class normally this time around?” He trails off a faint trace of blush appears on his porcelain skin. I use the notebook to hide my panty line that peeks out of the shirt.

”Class cancelled.” I’m horrified how my voice sounds so high pitched the embarrassment paints my cheeks bright red. ”Um, I have something to do in my room so I’ll be there.” I use the lame excuse to escape from Yoongi when I close the door behind me I close my eyes as well because of the extreme humiliation I had to go through.

My phone buzzes in hand I suddenly remember the recipe I promised. I write a quick message to her attaching the picture of the ingredients and notes to help her with the preparations. Now since I’m done with the responsibilities I can swim in my tears for the time being.

I can’t believe after months of caution fate decided to take away from me the deserved me time days. Yoongi is probably weirded out by me too I don’t know how to look him in the eye from now on and it’s a serious problem. For lords heaven, we live together! There’s no way I can avoid him without being obvious about it.

I mean maybe I’m just overreacting. It’s Yoongi we are talking about. He most of the time doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything he certainly won’t mention it and for obvious reasons I won’t either so I can just leave things like that. Just acting as usual like he didn’t saw my legs and my black underwear not to mention he is the very first one to see it I mean outside of my family of course. He’s a boy. No. A man. And he saw me underdressed like that.

It’s okay Y/N, let’s see the bright side at least he saw me when I was shaved. Well, that doesn’t help. Not at all.

”Shit. I’m hungry.”

I waited an hour and forty minutes to be exact despite the rumble of my stomach I sat down to start the book one of my friends lent me to read and I’m over a quarter of the pages when I decided enough is enough.

I waited long enough so he must be cooped up in his room slash studio for the rest of the day. But to be extra cautious I peeked out before fully leaving the safety of my room. I stop once I step into the corridor listening for any noises that might indicate Yoongi has indeed occupied his nest the soft sounds of the synthesizer helps me to relax I leisurely make my way then in the direction of the kitchen.

As I flip the switch the room is enveloped in light. My favourite mug is sitting on top of the counter even though I don’t remember leaving it there. I walk to take a closer look the mug is filled with coffee it’s in a light brown colour so it must a latte. It smells like latte indeed.

My favourite drink. There’s a note glued to the bottom of the mug it’s a messy handwriting and I don’t have to guess to know to whom this belongs to. How did he know my favourite coffee order?

”Sorry for startling you earlier. - myg”

The simple worded note even had his initials at the end. Realising that I never tried out his coffee made me curious about the taste. He works as a barista so It cannot be bad. I’m always late for class so I never had the chance before going into the shop when he’s on duty and order a drink from him.

Most of the time I’m saving on it and just use the shared coffee machine. Don’t blame me I’m just a broke university student.

But if I drink this I won’t be able to sleep it’s pretty late. Fuck it. I’m going to drink it. Not that the unholy time for coffee consumption deterred me before and picked up on some of Yoongi’s personal characteristics I think I can confidently say he doesn’t care either.

I bite into my lip while carefully straightening the lines out on the sticky note. After I was convinced the note won’t come off of his door I leave to go to bed.

”Thanks for the coffee. I liked it. – Y/N.”

***

”Can you guys stop shovelling food into your mouths for a millisecond. I’m serious!” Hitting the table for further emphasis.

Rori and F/N digging through a pile of food before our morning class is something I got used to first as I befriended them and it doesn’t bother me any other time but I wanted some serious advice for once and they don’t even stop digging to say well that’s was awkward. Or shit that sucks.

Not that I don’t know that without them telling me. I appreciated the note and the subtle apology he didn’t phrase it like hey dummy I’m sorry for seeing your sausage legs my bad. Also, it would be unlikely, too wordy for him he’s tight-lipped even in messages. I don’t remember he ever told me like a two full sentence in one go.

”Serious for what Y/N? He saw your underwear and legs. Tell us if you display your boobs or something. Now, I would be interested.” Rolling my eyes at the sarcastic remark I steal one of her favourite apple pie sticks for good measures.

”Hey! I was going to eat that.” She pouts but I take another big bite out of it. It’s too sweet for my liking but everything for the even sweeter revenge. If there’s one thing I learned about these two throughout the years of knowing them is that they take their food very seriously. ”Look. We love you, that’s why I’m going to tell you this. It’s not a big deal.” She pats my cheek before picking up her fork again.

”So what happened F/N. Did you gave Jimin the blowjob of his life?” I used a quote mark at the end of the sentence just how she phrased it yesterday. Rori is more interested in that, of course, there’s nothing more important than sex.

”Let me say the food was cold once we were finished.” She chuckled bashfully. Do I have the right set of friends? Maybe I should be pickier about who I call as a friend.

”So he’s big?” Rori asked with a smirk and I almost spitted out the diet coke onto the dining table. We are in a fucking coffee shop for god damn good. Thankfully not the one Yoongi works for but I think he has morning class so he won’t be working either way.

”Please don’t go into details.” I plea and Rori presents me with a devilish grin while picking the chicken breasts out of my salad.

”It’s fine Y/N. I was a virgin too before Jimin. Your time will come, not that it’s a choice.” F/N tries to console me.

”It’s a choice just not mine.” I murmur it under my nose stabbing my salad with the fork before chewing on it without the meat it’s quite sour.

”Yeah. It’s because you and F/N are both have big sticks up your asses.” Used to her blunt remarks I’m not even hurt or surprised for that matter. The busy cafe drowns out the voices of their inappropriate talk at least.

”It’s not our fault that you fuck every man with a pulse.” F/N retorts back with a giggle satisfied with the remark we exchange high fives.

”How do you know it’s a requirement?” Rori lifts one of her brows making us do gagging motions.

”Ugh, That’s disgusting.” I abandon the food on my plate that was a bit too much and we are in the middle of breakfast.

”A person cannot even joke here? I wasn’t serious. Duh.” I should really search for those new friends.

”That’s something I can believe.” The insult wasn’t even spoken out too loud but she heard me all the same and it earned a kick under the table from Rori with his high heels, I returned the glare she sent my way.

***

”Oh, hi.” I step aside to let Yoongi enter, he furrows his brows in concentration if I wasn’t running late I would ponder over the fact how he measures my body by centimetres. I fidget with my earrings but without a mirror, it’s a difficult task to carry out.

”I thought we’re going to meet with the guys at 8.” Realising the motive behind his stare I nod furiously.

”Yeah. But Rori accepted that guy’s offer to taste wines and she’s afraid she’s going to be abducted so me and F/N will accompany her.” I tell him and he doesn’t seem pleased I wasn’t either at first but I hope he won’t do anything with three girls there.

”Be careful. Anyone else knows about this?” He asks with evident worry lacing his voice he steps closer helping to finally get that chape snap into place.

”Jimin knows and I think Jungkook knows too.” Once he’s done he restores the distance between the two of us. ”Also you know F/N she’s apt to be violent.” Yoongi nods.

”Fuck. I’m late.” I swear as I look at the time. With hurried steps, I pick up my boots and size up my keys ready to leave.

”See you later.” Hearing his voice calling out to me I look back smiling a little managing to whisper back a ’see you later’ of my own. I think this was the longest conversation I held with him so far, what a shame I couldn’t stay to talk more.

The wine tasting went better than I expected. That guy is filthy rich he gave us a little tour around the house before letting us each pick out 5 wines of our liking. We learned that he’s a sports major he’s a swimmer and he told us stories about his practises with the swimming team and talked awfully long about his wins and trophies. To be honest he seemed like a bit eccentric and pompous for me but Rori liked him.

We were late because our taxi on its way to the bar got into a little traffic jam. I got a text from Yoongi at the same time F/N got one from Jimin they were curious about where we are and how we are. We wrote back a short text that we’re almost there.

”So? Whose’s the guy?” Jin asked once we are seated down. F/N took her place next to Jimin and Rori beside her leaving me with the only option of sitting down next to Yoongi at the other side of the table.

Once I’m comfortably seated I look around the table I catch in the corner of my eye Namjoon and Jungkook taking shots. Yoongi grabs his alcoholic beverage before him from the table our shoulders brush against each other due to the motion. I bite the inside of my cheeks don’t want to fidget in place.  

”He’s a sports major.” Rori told Jin she told him about our little tour but she conveniently left out the offer about a threesome that I politely declined.

”Oh Y/N you remember that guy who wanted to get your phone number?” Scrunching my nose as the scene flashed before my eyes, of course, I remember. That was one of my most awkward moments and believe me when I say there’s a lot of option to choose from on my list and it’s still the worst. As far as I know, that guy was a sports major too and he was very persistent.

”Yes, what about him?” I nod. I try to shoo the pictures out of head but a forming blush creeping up my neck quicker than I realise.

”Well he’s here. And he’s coming this way.” F/N tells without looking my way her eyes trained behind my form probably to report back his every move. I physically have to hold myself back from whimpering and its not the good kind.

”Shit.” I bite my lower lip don’t want to make things more obvious I don’t turn around to confirm it.

”Oh. I remember. You gave him Rori’s number, don’t you?” Jungkook, you traitor. He was with me when it happened I was flustered enough that he asked Jungkook is my boyfriend or not that I didn’t want to expand my suffering so I gave him my friend's number. She told me if someone I don’t want tries to get into my pants and bothers me I can use her number as a bait knowing her even though my pants were not on the line I still did that. Well, she did more than that after.

”Then what’s the problem?” Jin asks so invested in our conversation that I want to smack him on the neck.

”I was sexting with him and we fucked.” She shrugs. That was what I tried to say. I really don’t want to face that guy.

I stand up with so much vehemency that I almost knock down a glass from the table it’s Yoongi’s empty glass at the bottom of it there’s a thin line of whiskey left. Yoongi grabs my thighs to stabilise me. Looking over his shoulder I saw that said guy indeed walking into this direction.

”Uh, please dance with me?” I grab Yoongi’s hand surprising him for a moment or two but lets me pull him up.

”You have a habit of running away, huh?” I look back to get a grip at the situation. I led Yoongi into the dance floor even though I don’t even know how to dance. He sees the panic settling in my face so he starts guiding me with his hand flat against my lower back. There’s a lot of bodies to avoid so Yoongi is extremely close.

”I don’t like confrontation.” I subtly hide behind his broad shoulders I can see it on him how he tries to stop himself from laughing. I like the sound of his laugh.

”I’m aware.” He purrs into my ear pulling me closer by a hand wrapped around my waist the sweet scent of his cologne hits me like a tone of bricks. I’m painfully aware how his body touches mine my breast pushed against his flat ribcage I can feel him inhaling and exhaling the used oxygen.

”Y-your hand Yoongi.” His hand is dangerously low on my back I’m sure he feels the curve of my ass under his fingers. The bar is dimly lit so my blush remains subtle in a certain extent seeing me blush so many times I wouldn’t be surprised if he would recognise it before it fully blooms on my face.

”What about it?” He clearly wants me to say it but there’s no way I’m going to bluntly say that his hand touches my ass. Rather die.

”What are you doing? Are you drunk?” I defensively ask answering the question with my own questions. He openly finds my antics amusing because this time he laughs. That gummy smile makes my knees weak for him he strengthens his hold on my waist like he knows it.

”My car is here. I’m as sober as I can be.” The hand I placed on his chest when he suddenly pulled me closer itched. He’s touching me and he’s sober. Heaving a sigh he replaces them around his neck I can’t relish in the feeling as his hand on my ass beyond doubt gone since he places it back soon after even lower. The grin he shows me makes me want to give him my fist instead of my virginity.

”Then why are you touching me?” My confidence wavered significantly as he lowered his head his lips closer than ever but instead of kissing me, he blows air into my ear riling me up with the gesture.

”This makes you uncomfortable?” I wanted to say yes, but the full truth would be it’s undeniably uncomfortable and exciting it makes my blood boil under my skin and it scares me how much I want him to touch me tossing aside my insecurities just to feel him like this. At least he knows his boundaries. I don’t know what would I do if his hand suddenly moved.

”No. I’m just embarrassed.” I nervously twist a hair at the nape of his neck didn’t realise the act just when I did it.

”You ran away because you were embarrassed yesterday too?” I stop toying with his hair once the words register in my head. Is he talking about the kitchen incident? And here I thought that there’s nothing more that could make the situation more awkward.

”Y-yes.” The confidence I felt before left me I shy away from his eyes the way he sized me up that day still vivid in my head.

”Why?” A perfect arch of his eyebrows indicating that he wants his answer this time and I am about to give him.

”Because you were staring at me.” I tell him oh so matter of factly. He practically beams at the offered answer the glint in his eyes telling me that’s the answer he seeks in the first place and he has his own set of words in return.

”Wanna know what I thought about while staring at you?” His eyes pinning me to my spot I wouldn’t dare to move away even if I wanted to he seemed determined to get under my skin and maybe under my clothes too.

”No.” I challenge drunk by the boldness maybe the gin tonic I consumed earlier and the wines finally appearing be to be the liquid courage I needed. Reading between the lines Yoongi tells me despite the answer.

”I imagined how you would look like wearing my shirt. It would cover you below your knees since you are tiny. Tell me you’re wearing one of those black panties I saw before?” I don’t answer but I let him pat my knee I can feel his warm palm under the fabric of my jeans he continues with more words even bolder than the first.

”I imagined how you would look like under me on my bed wrapping those long legs around my waist.” Affected by his words I mirror his hungry expression. He’s normally not a man of so many words and hearing him talk this much makes me feel special that he’s talking to me because he feels the need to let me know what’s plaguing his mind. I entertain the idea that maybe he wasn’t sure how to convey the message since I’m so shy he didn’t have a lot of opportunity cornering me before the kitchen incident. Perhaps it was the undo he needed.

”Tell me Y/N. Do you find me attractive?” His fingers stroke the flesh of my jaw he’s getting confident as I don’t push him away.

”You are attractive.” I tell him honestly and he grins but not in a malice kind of way his grin more like a boyish grin that boys wear after hearing that their high school crush likes them back. The happy kind of grin.

”Have you thought about me too? Like I did.” The next question hits differently it’s not so innocent and I wasn’t in the illusion he is.

”Yes.” Holding onto the boldness I agree.

”Tell me.” He urges. He’s sober I remember. Avoiding his stare I let my shyness getting to the best of me he brushes a strand of hair behind my ears coaxing out the reply. It feels nice to be touched by him.

”It’s embarrassing.”

”I told you mine. You have to tell me your fantasies so I can make them come true.” He trails a finger following the line of my collarbone my outfit leaves literally everything to the imagination the only skin he can feel is on my arms.

”You’re unfair.” I whine the words out Yoongi stops his movements to see the emotions behind my eyes. He seems confused by my conflicted expression. His eyes were always expressive and I loved staring at them. Those rare moments shared, eating together at the weekends letting me hear one of his song he proudly introduces.

”How so?”

I take a deep breath cupping his cheeks. ”You look good with dyed hair but I prefer it black. You look the best when you come home from work all sweaty because the air conditioner still not gotten repaired in your workplace so you always take a shower before doing anything else.” There’s glint catching the light in his orbs watching me closely while I tell him the things I locked away in my memories. He caresses my wrist with a raised hand the other directly resting upon mine as it's his face still trapped between the heels of my palms.

”I like your voice.” I let the words flow out like a river caught up in a thunderstorm. ”I always wanted to know how it would sound like moaning my name. I like your hands too.”

”What about them?” A big smile stretches his face knowing too well he won. I don’t feel the frustration of losing I’d gladly accept this fate again and again if it will give me the same results at the end of this.

”Yoongi.” I whine.

”Did you imagined this? Or this?” His hands leaving their position fondling the flesh on my hip hiding me behind his body he walks a hand up my decolletage.

”Stop, we are in public.” I hiss.

”No one pays attention Y/N. But I’ll gladly take this to the bedroom.” The offer temps me but I remember the boys.

”We can’t. You are the only sober one and the guys need their ride home.” I reason and Yoongi groans in frustration. He forgot about them already. He looks at the booth the others are drinking and laughing.

”If I tell Namjoon to stop drinking he would be sober enough to drive them back.”

I shake my head it would be too dangerous and considering he competed with Jungkook about who can take more shots I bet he’s drunk like a donkey alongside with the younger boy. ”I’m drunk too.” I tell him when he tries to come up with more solution.

”Fine.” Yoongi hugs me close probably to hide his displeased face doesn’t want to sound so desperate maybe he’s embarrassed.

”Don’t be like that. I promise if in the morning when I sobered up you still want to do it I’ll let you.”

He perks up gently pushing me away to look into my eyes. ”Let me do what?”

”Let you take me.”

 ***

I feel something warm tickling my sides a sudden wave of cold air hits my stomach but the cold soon replaced with a warm and wet feel against my skin. My eyes narrowly open I try to fidget away wrapping my fingers around the comforter when I feel that wet and warm feeling on my thighs.

Hands and tongue. The fog in front of my eyes clears I don’t remember when did I fell asleep or how did I end up here. Where am I? I spot the synthesizer in the corner Yoongi’s synthesizer. Yoongi’s room.

”Yoongi, what .. ah” My voice raspy from sleep the way he rubbed his nose into my neck just to deliver a long kiss to it after halted my question before I was able to voice it out.

”Did I wake you up. My bad.” He smiled into my skin loving the way my heart beats erratically with his every touch, his hand above my breast feeling the movements of it.

”You don’t sound so sorry about it.”

”Do you have a headache?” He caresses the side of my face helping to curl the locks behind my ear that interfered with my vision. The thoughtful gesture made me smile up at his face mirroring his expression of tenderness.

”No I’m good. I didn’t drink that much.” My fingers itch to touch his face maybe it’s because of the dreamy state I’m currently in that I have the confidence in doing so. I brush my hands through his bangs his eyes closing the caress urges a smile he grabs my hands once I’m about to pull away to move it against his mouth giving a small kiss onto my palm before intertwining them with his much larger ones.

I could get used to this. The image of him looking so raw and so vulnerable his eyes puffy with sleep lazy motions of his fingertip exploring my body under the duvet. My shirt is rolled up just below my breasts the shirt’s neck hangs around my shoulder in a loose coverage it smells like Yoongi just like the covers. Looking down I realise it’s not my shirt. It’s his.

”Glad to hear that. I want you to repeat your promise to me.” Yoongi burrows his face into my neck again his hair brushing against my bare skin the hand that’s not holding mine drops under the covers finding my hip guiding me to drape my right leg over his waist facing each other sideways.

”Promise? Can you be more specific?” I boldly move my hand caressing with feather-light touches his side I can feel his bare torso and hips under my fingers he shivers and not because of the cold. He’s shivering because I touched him and he’s not wearing a shirt. The thought crosses my mind that the shirt I’m wearing is the one he did wear the whole day but not now. Every other day I would be embarrassed but I quite liked the idea of wearing his clothes in his bed.

”A tease I see.” He recovered quicker than I would like he gave a quick peck onto my shoulder where his shirt didn’t cover that much skin. He cupped my breast above the fabric of my bra the sudden feel of him squeezing me there I whined a little bit too loudly. I pulled my hand away shielding my face due to embarrassment.

”Yoongi.” I shyly call his name. He let his hand stay there but he remained motionless giving my hands each a kiss just where my eyes would be if I didn’t hide behind my limbs. His hand felt warm against me where my bra wasn’t covering his two fingers rested directly on the skin of my breast.

”Do I have your consent baby?” I gulp my shy personality says no but my body says yes for me.

”You can have anything.” I place my palm against his that lays on my body my eyes still closed but I don’t shield my face anymore. The words came out as whispers even though I wanted him to hear me say it. I wanted him to go on.

”Love. Answer me.” I open my eyes again when I feel his hand leave my boobs to cup my face with it instead.

”You can have me. You can fuck me. Did it answer your question or should I be more specific?” I wet my lips poking my tongue against the inside of my cheeks trying to calm down the rapid movement of my heart my hands shook as I grip his hair moving my mouth against his to not just say but show my consent. I want this. I want him.

”No. I think it was explicit enough, I like seeing you blush.” Hearing him say that makes me blush harder and he gifts me with a gummy smile basking in the responsive reactions. I would be more embarrassed if I wouldn’t feel the sticky substance dampening my underwear.

”Do you have something in mind? A preference? Or can I surprise you.” The way he explicitly asks about my sexual preferences makes him appear hotter a new wave of arousal hits me making me grind my thighs together forgetting that Yoongi’s leg is between them. I know he felt the wetness but doesn’t comment on it he instead pushes his knees further up parting my legs.

”You d-decide.” I moan when his knee brushes against my crotch. He hummed delighted by my answer. Placing back his hand once more squeezing my breasts before undoing the clasps behind my back. He slowly lets the material fall he strictly looks into my eyes not wandering downwards seeking out my every reaction. I gave him a little nod he takes it as the permission he needed he moves the cover so he can take a look.

”So pretty.” He sighs into my skin he turns my body to be flat against the bed the cold sheets meeting with my back goosebumps travelling up my spine. ”So soft.” He mumbles the endless of praises dragging his fingers over a nipple before licking it with his tongue a choked moan leaves my parted lips his hair gently caressing the skin. He circles the nipple with his poked out tongue kneading the other neglected one with his free hand. Mewls and sighs, in turn, filling the room trying to keep my voice quiet but it’s hard since the only thing I can concentrate on is his mouth on me and his hands those long fingers as he drags them down on my body a finger slides under the waistband of my panty he stretches the material out before letting it snap back into place. The uncomfortable feeling of it sticking to my folds gets frustrating by every passing minute.

”You smell good.” His raspy voice helps me return from my sudden astonishment I scrape his scalp with my long nails as I weave my fingers through his hair he lets out a low growl my skin covering up the noise the vibration he sends up my body by it makes me tighten my legs around his waist my underwear covered cunt pressed against his firm chest forces a not so silent whine out.

”It’s m-my lotion.” I reply absentmindedly. He hums into my collarbone not sure my answer registered truly in his brain I feel him taking a big inhale before pulling away he pushes himself up with the help of his hands planted beside my head looking with heavily lidded eyes taking in my hazed eyes and swollen lips before connecting our mouths. I almost forgot how good of a kisser Yoongi is.  

The light touch against my inner thigh makes my hip jolt up in surprise Yoongi’s eager mouth swallows all the sounds and whimpers. ”Relax.” He purrs aiming for my hips soothing circles into my skin. I take a few deep breaths Yoongi waits patiently for me to calm down a little the way his eyes sizing me up like I’m some kind of goddess eases some of my nerves. Once he’s positive I’m not going to run away he lets his palm touch me the barrier that’s my underwear stays in place as he drags his fingers directly onto my heat. I feel it throb under his ministrations having confidence after a few moans I let out he gets bolder using more pressure to dip between my folds the underwear’s silky touch lets him move smoothly. ”Can I feel it? I want to make sure you’re wet enough before I do anything else.” Nodding even before the question was fully out I anticipate a laugh or something to tease me about my eagerness. I don’t think I wanted someone this bad before to touch me. But he doesn’t laugh he seems as eager as I feel. He slides a finger under the damp material but he retreats too soon. ”Please, can I take it off?” To persuade me further if his plea wasn’t enough he rubs his fingers where my clit is over my panty. The plea was enough but I’m not complaining. I manage to signal him with a breathy yes. Don’t have to tell him twice he slides the ruined material down my legs his big warm hands gripping my inner thighs preventing my legs from closing before he can take a look.

”Look at that. So pink and swollen for me.” Previously he was careful with every move waiting for approval before doing anything bold but like he’s lost all the continence in him Yoongi drags two fingers up my folds coating his fingers with my arousal letting just the tip of his fingers penetrating just to pull back. I let out the loudest moan blushing as I realise just how loud I sounded but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind, not at all. He wanted to coax more of those sounds as he bent down parting the lips with his tongue letting out his own moans while tasting me and if it’s even possible at this point I feel more turned on than ever.

”Warm too. Sorry, my love, my hands are a little cold but I hope you don’t mind.” He finally slips a finger in my eyes slightly open he watches me with a grin loving the way I squirm wanting it chuckles deep and I don’t mind at all. The stretch his one digit means feels familiar reminding me when I was chasing relief on my own but his fingers are so so much better longer and thicker. I can’t wait to feel the second one.

”I want to make you cum on my tongue.” Delivering a kittenish lick sucking on my clit for the demonstration before he goes on. ”Just to bring you another orgasm with my fingers.” Yoongi curls the one finger in me rubbing it into my throbbing walls ”Lastly let you cum around my cock.” He throws his head back moaning sinfully just thinking he’s about to make everything he said come true. ”You deserve at least three orgasms but I shouldn’t be greedy your virgin cunt can’t handle three.” He eases another finger in this time the stretch is a bit more uncomfortable.

”Let’s start with two.” He says settled with the idea he places a wet kiss onto my hip before finding my abused clit again sucking and rolling it around his tongue my walls contacts around his two digits I feel the sticky substance coating my inner thighs and dripping onto the sheets the mess, the way Yoongi’s hair tickle my thighs, the way he moves his fingers inside me, the pleasure gets overwhelming something starts to build up promising a relief I never had the chance of feeling before.

”Yoongi fuck, Yoongi” His name spills from my mouth and it seems to encourage him to be faster.

”It’s fine.” He tells before sucking harshly on my clit. ”Cum for me.” The proud grin he forms still buried between my legs and the vibration of his hum makes my legs shake I let my head fall back into the pillows closing my eyes until I see literal stars.

He stops lapping my juices once I’m finished the proud smile still plastered on his face licking his lips capturing the remaining of my pleasure. He looks so hot. I never knew I’m capable of coming this hard.

”Good?” Placing a kiss onto my nose he caresses my arms I didn’t realise I was grabbing onto the sheets this tight I let Yoongi place my hands onto his shoulder blades he moves to get between my legs once more.

Instead of answering, I can’t help but impatiently point out. ”You’re still wearing clothes.” I grab his hips pulling on his sweatpants playfully.

”Wanna take it off?” He asks smirking. I roll my eyes at his cockiness not that he’s all talk when it comes to his skills but he has more ego than he can manage and I’m not going to increase it for him.

”So what? Don’t tell me you are not eager even more than me to bury your dick into my virgin pussy.” His eyes grow bigger for a split second before it regains its original state, so he can be startled too. I’m surprised by my boldness, but god, it’s worth it seeing him so fucked up by those words.

”You’re playing a dangerous game Y/N. I need my self-control right now.” Something shifted in his eyes he looks like he’s about to devour me. Yoongi shifts onto his knees to get rid of the final barriers between us. I close my eyes my shyness returns too soon but Yoongi doesn’t mind it I open my eyes again as he positions myself above me placing a firm kiss onto my lips he senses I’m anxious.

”Do you trust me?” Seeing the open vulnerability in his shiny orbs, not entirely clouded by lust makes my head swim with a lot of suppressed emotion. I feel the urge to smile lifting my head from the pillows beneath me I give him a peck.

”Of course I am.” I kinda like you. I bite into my lips before the next sentence could slip through we’ll talk about this another time. Right, the only thing I want to focus on is Yoongi. Only Yoongi. His tip brushes against my stomach, shit, I haven’t seen how big he is. His lip pressed to mine swallows the tiny moan leaving my lips as he pushes the first inch inside parting my walls in a painful stretch. Fuck. He’s big.

”Tight.” Yoongi moans, more in pleasure than I am currently in but it’s ok. He made me cum I want to see him cum too. ”Relax for me angel I won’t hurt you I promise.” Relishing in the way he caresses my side I try to relax my body he pushes another inch in slowly his tip must be fully buried by now.

”That’s right. You’re doing so well.” He praises his eyebrows knit together in concentration he’s holding himself back because of me. Touched by the gesture I move my hip to meet his advances he slips in deeper than he intended his groan significantly louder by the sudden pleasure.

”Does it hurt?” He pulls himself together to keep the eye contact he caresses the skin under my eye I nod before answering.

”A little.”

”Let’s try a few more thrusts if it still hurts after that I’ll stop and eat you out again. Shit. Maybe I should have made you cum again for the extra lubrication.” Yoongi regretfully gazes at my face.

”It’s fine. Just go slow.” I say the burning is bearable I’m getting used to the feeling slowly but not sure if I can cum again.

”My baby is so tight.” I’m definitely a sucker for those pet names. It helps me focus on his words instead of his slow thrusts. ”I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. Feeling you wrapped around me a dream come true.” I experimentally squeeze around him and he lets out a loud moan his head nestled into my neck groaning and moaning between filthy words his pace got quicker but I don’t stop him even though it’s not feeling as good as him eating me out. I want to please him though and by the sounds, he seems very pleased.

”Are you alright?” He stops after hearing a louder whiny moan on my part but I don’t let him I circle my hips in place dragging out moans from him but he forces himself to reset his previous slower pace. I’m not having any of it. I want him to cum and want it soon.

”Yoongi” I whine out his name an idea foggily forming at the back of my head. ”Yoongi, I wanna ride you.”

”Are y-you sure?” He stills inside of me waiting for the confirmation and I nod inviting him into a kiss that turns slopy by time. I feel his hands grabbing at my waist to change position this way he sinks in deeper.

Holy shit it feels so much better.

”Fuck. Do you like this?” He grips my hips dragging his cock touching every sensitive part in me as my walls swallow his shaft he pulls me up just to let me sink down with a needy moan I’m starting to feel the appeal.

”Yes. I-ah-think.” I can almost picture the way my eyes roll back behind my skull right now. What was I saying? ”Go faster.” I choke out and Yoongi with a following set of groans obligates I’m too far gone to pay attention to how Yoongi watches with hungry eyes that I ruin the bedsheets.

”I like that you are so messy.” He places a stray hair behind my ears our chests pressed together so he can thrust up faster and harder. Yoongi holds me in place taking control the way his eyes shuts involuntarily and his member twitching inside of me signals that he’s close.

He’s breathtakingly beautiful as he reaches his high he’s so lost in the pleasure my walls provide so tight around him that he doesn’t have the mind to kiss me back so I just press them together for a minute longer. My legs ache because of the exercise but I let him use me to ride out his high the pretty sounds and satisfied look he gives me once seated firmly inside me with our mixed cum spilling out he looks down where our body connects rubbing the skin of my hip lovingly while watching me ruin his sheets. He likes that I’m messy.

”I hope you like me back because I don’t think I could fuck anyone else from now on.” I end up in a pit of laughter leaning my head on his shoulder he feels my body shake with the motion Yoongi whines in overstimulation when I accidentally squeeze his spent member. I peck the skin where my head previously rested before searching for Yoongi’s eyes.

”I do like you back.” I admit it shyly even though there’s nothing to be shy about his dick is still inside for fuck’s sake.

”Glad to hear that.” His grin returns faster than the speed of light. ”I thought I fucked your brains out when you suddenly started laughing. I was concerned for a minute.” I try to hit his shoulder but he’s faster grabbing my hand by the wrist and gives the flesh an attentive kiss the gesture is sweet and melts my heart.

”How are you feeling?” It’s cute how he seeks my reassurance. He lets me move away careful when pulling out so I can finally take the previous position lying down.

”Hm, sore but good. I just need .. some time. I don’t think I can stand up just yet.” I offer my honest reply burying my nose into the duvet that got tossed aside. He leaves the room making me confused but once he’s back with a towel in hand I pierce two and two together. It’s his towel. The thought is enough to make me blush furiously.

”Spread your legs for me.” I take the request as an order shyly spreading my legs so he can clean me up. ”There. All cleaned up.” The bed squeaks under the weight of his one knee pushing me further into the sheets. Yoongi bows down to kiss me his tongue teases my lips as we kiss asking for permission that I eagerly permit.

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

And now I’ve watched episode 3 of Walker because of reasons. (You guys asked, that’s reasons.) #2

If you guys haven’t seen part 1, go see it immediately. Because of reasons. This time, reasons is Slutty Glitter Cowboy Stripper. No, it’s not a joke.

Yeah, I’m not sure what’s happening either.

I can’t believe they’re airing cowboy strippers in Supernatural’s air slot and Dean Winchester isn’t there. I think this is why they had to kill Dean, because otherwise he would have ripped through the CW’s show layout and appeared in Walker sponteneously, instantly adopting Walker’s entire family and friends as his own and single-handedly implementing the depolicement of the state of Texas, with Castiel rolling his eyes at him in the background while he murders ICE agents at the US-Mexican border.

*slides the CW a twenty euro bill* so I have an idea for season 2 of Walker

Anyway, there’s this lady Walker and Ramirez are doing a stakeout on, a woman called Torreto who is presumably part of some criminal organization since they’re doing a stakeout on her, and who’s bisexual given she was being entertained by a lady and a guy at a strip club. Which is like, fine, not problematic at all, alright.

So the stripper straddles her and is like ~wanna come with me in the back, and she’s like ~maybe another time, and he’s like ~torreto i saw cops outside you probably wanna come to the back with me, and she’s like ~mmm yeah that sounds like a good idea. We were rooting for you, slutty glitter cowboy stripper! We were all rooting for you! Or not.

Meanwhile, Walker has horrible car manners.

Also, he asks her how her parents were to her growing up, which is a question you normally ask to people you’re not close to when you want to do some small talk. For some reason she brings up a friend she had some ~crazy teen years~ with, called Garrison, which doesn’t make me think of angels in Supernatural, no, I am a normal person.

But then people start coming out of the strip club, but not Torreto. So they go in.

Torreto is not there, so Walker just stops the first person he sees and he’s literally like ~excuse me, do you know if there’s someone in the back. The visual is hilarious

“Excuse me, sir, have you seen my brother from another show, I suspect he might be here”

Give me a spinoff about this strip club.

Anyway, the guys answers, “No, why, you two interested?” to which they immediately answer “no!” at the same time, and share a look which makes me think we’re supposed to be like ~~ooh, talking in unison moment! or something...?

Meanwhile their truck gets stolen, and Walker yells that his bobblehead is in there. Cue disgruntled Jared face.

Oh man. We are at the title card. It’s less than 6 minutes. This will never end.

It was night, now it’s day, and Stella and August are walking around Austin. He’s mimicking David Attenborough, describing the teenagers around them as though he was doing a documentary about animals.

Two girls approach them, bringing up a party that’s taking place tomorrow. She says it’s not the best idea with her court date approaching. The girls are like, your dad can figure something out, he’s an elite ranger or something and also owes you for disappearing for a year. She’s like, he’s being kind of cool, I don’t want to ruin this, and the girls “call BS” because this is like “the best party of the year”.

Ruby, the girl August has been hanging out with, appears and August goes from “nah the party is not my thing” to “I’ll totally be there” in like 0.02 seconds.

I cannot overstate how much I am not interested in high schooler drama.

Meanwhile, at the Walker Seniors’ place, Walker’s parents are preparing the table for a family dinner. From their banter we can infer someone’s who ~is like family although he isn’t “blood”~ is coming for dinner and Grandpa Walker doesn’t like him at all and actually expects the guy to steal their china and bourbon. “It’s been years, could you please give him a chance?” Grandma Walker says, and he accepts, although she grabs the fancy bourbon from behind his back.

Meanwhile, at the police station, all the cops are having a briefing about Torreto, the woman at the strip club. She apparently steals weapons all over Texas and sells them over the border at triple the cost. Remember that Torreto escaped from Walker and Ramirez because she stole their truck while they were inside the strip club. Ramirez is worried she’ll already become the laughingstock of the precinct.

Uh. James plays security camera footage from outside the strip club. Walker and Ramirez’ truck was stolen by Torreto and the cowboy stripper himself.

Obviously the other cops laugh when Ramirez admits it was her truck.

James tells them to find Torreto, find the truck, and find out who the naked cowboy is.

I have a bad feeling about this.

Then Walker drives home, and as soon as he gets out of his car, you know how in the Supernatural pilot Dean gets into Sam’s apartment and wrestles him before revealing it’s him to ~test if his fighting skills are rusty and laughs when Sam realizes it’s him? Alright, now think intensely and guess how Walker’s like-a-brother best friend is introduced. Think intensely! It’s really difficult to guess!

Something something about violence and male intimacy except this is too ridiculous to, you know, write something serious about it.

“Oh, man!” the guy laughs, lying on the ground where Walker threw him. “The look on your face!”

“You son of a-”

“Oh, c’mon man, don’t talk bad of a mother I never knew.”

I’m facepalming soooo hard. This is the first thing we learn about him (well, after the fact that he definitely stole something from the Walkers’ house in the past), that he never knew his mother!

HOLY FUCKING SHIT

GUYS

I AM SO SORRY

I am faceblind I didn’t realize

THE GUY IS THE STRIPPER

I REPEAT

THE “DEAN BUT IN JARED PADALECKI’S MIND” CHARACTER IS THE SLUTTY GLITTER COWBOY STRIPPER

THIS IS NOT A DRILL

I SWEAR MY HANDS ARE COLD AND CLAMMY

I AM EXPERIENCING EMOTIONS NO WORDS EXIST IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE TO DESCRIBE

Oh my god guys. I am so sorry.

“You did your touchdown victory dance before you stole my partner’s truck!” Walker exclaims. “I should arrest you right here and right now!”

The guy acts like he has no idea what Walker is talking about, and says he’s in town to see his best pal.

Walker keeps accusing him, but then his mother appears, super thrilled to see him, and Walker lets is go.

They’re at dinner (NotDean brought wagyu steaks, which obviously means he does crime for a living) and Walker’s mother tells him to say grace, which he does in a semi-serious, semi-mocking way. Obviously NotDean does not believe in god, but he’s grateful for the people around him.

Stella calls him uncle, in case you missed that this is supposed to be a friend whom Walker loves likeabrother.

He talks about jobs he did here and there, and Walker and his brother tease him asking if he’s been to some prisons around the country. Stella doesn’t get the joke and NotDean explains it to her, adding, “now, from what I hear, I’m not the only outlaw in this family”. Grandpa Walker leaves the room.

NotDean asks Stella if she’s going to the bonfire (the party they were talking about earlier) and tells her that her mother started the thing when they were young. She didn’t know that. This is supposed to be a Meaningful moment.

Meanwhile the stolen truck is found... at Walker’s ranch. Gasp! What a shocking turn of events.

NotDean gives Stella advice on how to act in court to get on the judge’s good graces, “which means acting”. “Please don’t get legal advice from a criminal” walker’s brother Liam says. Is the gay brother also a NotDean of sorts, to be fair? Well, CriminalNotDean tells her to dress her best and cry. ActualbrotherNotDean tells her to use the correct legal arguments. Walker just stops them, quoting something Ramirez said earlier in the episode, “nobody benefits from the easy route”. Stella is like, what does that mean, which, mood, but Grandma Walker interrupts bringing in a plate of different hot chilis. Apparently they have a tradition of a competition. Which we don’t even see. Boo.

Ramirez finds the truck... right outside the Walkers’ house. Grandpa Walker, who’d gone outside, points a rifle to her and she explains what she’s doing there. They introduce themselves and she is like, sir why is the man who stole my truck inside your house? “Wife invited him to dinner.”

She’s like, I need to arrest him. But he’s like, I bet there’s not enough evidence to arrest him, or my son would have done it. Join me for steak and burbon in the bunkhouse! As one does. So they have wagyu and bourbon together, and she asks him what’s the guy’s story.

So NotDean and Walker grew up together, NotDean had a rough life, “my wife has a soft spot for strays, she can’t give up on him”. But Grandpa Walker doesn’t feel the same. He tells her that she cannot arrest him tonight, but it’s only a matter of time before the guy gives her enough rope. He adds that Walker has a blind spot for faces from the past, and needs someone to fix that.

Meanwhile dinner’s over and NotDean calls a uber. He and Walker arrange to meet the next day and hang out like old times. Eventually, Walker tells him that if he is involved in this case, he will have to take him down. “Theoretically, if you catch me.” They do a manly hug with manly pats, and the guy leaves. “Theoretically, go to hell,” Walker says after he’s left.

The next day, NotDean brings Walker to a storage in the middle of nowhere... full of cursed objects, no wait, wrong show. What’s inside the storage is the red Mustang. Walker is shocked that he hasn’t lost it in some bet - which apparently is how he got the car from Walker in the first place. Now NotDean says that, after everything Walker’s been through, he deserves a chance to win it back.

Glowy flashback of Walker and his wife in the car, right after the scene in the beginning of the episode. They bet it during poker night, decision of Emily, because Walker is “starting to get attached to her”. Emily teases him for calling the car a she, and Walker decides to call the car Stella.

They gave their daughter the name of a car they lost at poker.

Oh. She tells him she’s pregnant.

So, apparently, they had their first daughter when they were broke, to the point they had to try and get money at poker for a bigger place and baby things. That’s... kind of irresponsible.

Meamwhile, Ramirez goes to James to tell him about the thing, but James already figured NotDean was involved, because apparently stealing things and returning them is just something he does. “Why are you so calm about this?” she asks. He says because they cannot pin anything on him. Questioning him could scare the big crime lady. So he tells her to just keep an eye on him. “Walker, Torreto or Hoyt [NotDean]” she asks. “Yes” he answers.

Blah blah. I apologize, I’m being too detailed. I’m just bored by this. Ah, a butcher’s truck was stolen right after the strip club thing, guess where NotDean got the wagyu steaks.

Walker and NotDean go to the bar with the bartender who’s their friend, and NotDean flirts with her. They start playing poker, when Ramirez arrives, and has some banter with NotDean and spills some glitter on him that she found in the truck. He buys her a drink and she arrests him for trying to bribe a police officer. Walker is shocked.

At the precinct, he says they cannot prove he’s working with big crime lady. But she brings up he stole the wagyu steaks.

She calls him out for trying to be everyone’s friend even if they do something wrong, also with Stella.

She says she can hold NotDean for 24 hours, long enough to figure out the big crime lady’s plans. Common trope in cop shows. Arrest someone without proof, you have to release them after 24 hours, but the cop finds proof and bam, forgiven for arresting someone without proof.

I know you’re bored, I’m bored too.

Actually, nope, it goes differently and kind of worse. In the interrogation room, Ramirez offers NotDean a deal: he tells her where the big crime lady’s weapon deal is happening, and walks free. He points the location on a map and he compliments her. Walker is watching from the cameras and is shook.

Meanwhile the bonfire is happening, and Stella is there with her girl friends. So is August, breakdancing to impress girls. We don’t care.

Meanwhile, a lot of cops in serious cop gear surround the location NotDean pointed at. Nobody’s there, though.

What is there, is the red Mustang with the creepy bobblehead in it and a letter from NotDean that says he gives him the car back because it was always his wife’s.

Walker figures out where the deal is actually happening - the storage where the red Mustang was before.

Meanwhile, at the bonfire, August is drunk on booze he stole from Grandpa Walker and brought to the party. He asks Stella if she’s trying to drive their father away, breaking the law and all, he asks if she wants him to leave again. Then he throws up. She calls Walker but he obviously doesn’t answer. So she calls her uncle, who’s doing shopping with his partner or something. They’re buying cake? Doing cake testing for their wedding? Maybe.

Meanwhile, NotDean calls Grandma Walker to tell her he cannot go mushroom hunting with her tomorrow but needs to leave town, and he’s sorry to let her down again. She tells him that just because his family’s bad, doesn’t mean he is too. “You saved my boy, and I’ll never forget that” she says. Oooh, that’s so intriguing!, nobody says. They share a cute moment and then he hangs up, while the weapon deal goes down around him.

Uncle Liam and his partner pick up the kids, and Stella asks him if he’ll be in court with her tomorrow. He says he can’t, because it’s her father’s decision to make.

August turns up music and they all sing in the car. It’s funny how everyone’s got better chemistry with everyone else except with Walker. I know it’s, like, on purpose for plot reasons, but still, Walker’s interactions with everyone feel so stilted compared to anyone else. And it’s not the other characters are that compelling.

The police arrives at the location of the weapon deal, and NotDean gets arrested trying to steal the truck again. Ramirez gives a speech how that’s hard but it’s the right thing to do. Walker makes a comment about tough love, implying Stella needs to get that too.

The next day, they leave for Stella’s court thing on the red Mustang. It took Walker three episodes, but now they also have a cool classic car to show off! Yay! *eyeroll*

Meanwhile, Grandma Walker and Grandpa Walker have a conversation about their failing marriage or something.

Ramirez goes to the bar to apologize to the bartender for arresting NotDean. They have a drink together and if lesbians were watching this they’d start shipping them, but no lesbians are watching this. They’re wiser than me.

Stella got like a gazillion hours of community service and her license suspended. She’s upset, but since she has her license for one more day he teaches her how to drive the Mustang.

Wait. Americans don’t learn to drive normal cars when they get their license?? They only learn to drive cars with automatic gear?? What the hell??

They drive while August runs after the car to get over his hangover or something.

Would be a cute moment if the entire thing wasn’t so cheesy and weird.

Well. We know NotDean is a recurring role so we’ll see more of him. (Well, I’m not sure I will be there to watch, because this is boring af.)

This episode used all its interest coins in the strip club scene and then became dreadfully boring. I don’t even have some witty line to close this post.

This was a rollercoaster that went my brain go through a blender in the first six minutes or so and then killed the remaining braincells through boredom.

That’s it guys. What can I say. This is the CW’s Walker. Yee.

[tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar]

Pass the Time

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader.

Summary: You feel like you spend more time outside of you dorm and so does your neighbor. Why? Both of your roommates are hooking up.

Word Count: 1,548.

Note: It took me longer than it should've to write this since Tumblr was keep messing up so please don't let this flop ( I reached my breaking point with trying but I still like it) and tell me what you think :) I hope you love it! Thank you @snkkat for posting the photo and inspiring me to write this!

Hey," your roommate, Jazmyn, speaks softly from her side of the dorm to see if you are still awake or not. You hum in response, not looking away from the episode of your newest favorite Netflix original TV show- the reason why you are not studying right now- Outer Banks. Jazmyn moves to sit upright on her bunk bed and swings her feet back and forth and gives you puppy eyes, "Can I ask for a favor?"

Knowing what she will ask, for not the first nor late time, you say, "I'm not moving, Jaz."

She jumps off and walks over to you and must go on her tippy toes to learn against your mattress. It is a fail on her part when she tries to grab your throw blanket off of you since you're wrapped in it.

You sing, "told y'all" in a teasing tone and Jaz response is a weak, "shut up."

"Why can't you just go over? I'm comfortable right here in my dorm."

Ignoring your point of view, she easily lies as she says, "I swear it won't be long."

"Really? Two nights ago, Andrew said the same thing to Drew before you went over there for three fucking hours!" Before she can try to deny it, you hold up your hand to add, "I actually mean fucking for three hours."

You roll your eyes as she blushes and gets lost in dream land that is made of all the sex, she and your next-door dorm neighbor, Andrew, have.

Which is a lot.

You knew that going to a University there would be a huge chance to live crazy college stories that one day will blow your kids' minds whenever they accidentally find one out. Getting locked out of your dorm on a weekly basis so your roommate can hookup? That is not one of them, it is annoying as hell.

The first time you got locked out was just last month, three months in your freshman year. After taking two tests in one day, you just wanted to go in a nap coma for the rest of the year. Since the elevator in your building did not get fixed yet, you had to drag yourself up to the firth floor. You could not help to wish the sock on your dorm knob was just a part of your imagination. But it was not. From the noises you could hear from the other side of the locked door, Jazmyn had someone over. You jumped and cursed when the door next to you opened and an extremely attractive and tired boy smiled at you as he tried to fix his bed hair. He noticed the sock and grabbed it to throw it over his shoulder, inside of his dorm. "I was wondering where Andrew went." He holds out his hand and as you shake hands, he told you his name and you told him yours. You agreed that you did need coffee, so you two left the hallway to grab some.

“You know, it’s weird that we are finally meeting.”

You looked over your shoulder and silently wished Jazmyn would open the door so could lay down, “We’ll probably see each other more in the hallway if they keep this up.”

A week after you talked with Drew over two refills of coffee for who knows how many hours, he saw you walking up the stairs after your last class of the day. He kicked himself off the floor to learn against your door.

"Are they...?"

He nodded in response and told you that he does not know how long, or how much longer. He followed you into your dorm after you slightly pushed him away to unlock it.

"I was planning on doing something with Jaz tonight but since you're here instead... have you ever done a face mask?"

He wiggled his eyebrows and used a husky manly tone to ask, “Sexually?"

His laugh echoed after you throw one of your pillows at him.

The third time was a couple of hours later and Drew agreed to go as far away as possible. You two went through a drive through before going to a park to eat in comfortable silence until he tried to be sneaky to grab some of your food. A small food happened before you two acted like big children on the swings, trying to see who could go up the highest. Since he is so tall, it was easy for him to do the monkey bars.

Now what was supposed to be a relaxing and do-nothing day, you let out a fake cough. “You can’t let Andrew come in here, I’m sick.”

“I’m sure Drew would be willing to take care of you.”

“I hate you.” You mutter as you get up to put your shoes on. You try not to think about how he told you he wants to make you his famous homemade chicken casserole soon since you’re been stressed with all of your school work, working part time and being home sick.

“You love me! Have fun whenever you guys do this time to pass the time.” She winks at you as you slam the door closed behind you. You stop knocking on Drew’s door with your blanket still wrapped around you and carrying your laptop when his voice comes the end of the hall, “fancy seeing you here.”

He knows your smile is half fake so he nervously asks, "You can come over if you want? I can let you in before heading to the showers."

 Andrew comes from the end of the hall, looking like he ran up the stairs while holding a plastic bag from the nearest gas station. You can see Jazmyn’s favorite candy and a box of condoms. Classy. You do not think twice before reaching into Drews maroon gym shorts to grab his keys while they have silent conversation. You miss how much his eyes widen for leaving them both in the hallway.

“I swear to God I’ll give up on being your wingman and move out if you do not make your move.”

Drew pushes Andrew out of the doorway and glances over at you to make sure you are not listening. “You are not my wingman!”

“Yes, I am! I am giving you two alone time as I have sex! It’s a win-win for everyone!” Andrew pushes him inside, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

From his bed, Drew hears the confusing in your voice when you say, “it’s only one am?”

“I stopped listening to what he says a long time ago.” Drew states as he can hear Andrew’s and his own voice in head saying, “she’s on your bed” repeating.

You mutter, “same” for trying to do the same thing with Jazmyn.

Over the trim of your laptop, you watch Drew stand in front of you and starts taking off his gray and black long sleeve hoodie in slow motion.

"Oh my god."

"What?" He asks, amused.

"What?" You ask, embarrassed.

“Take a picture, it would last longer.” He teases, sitting next to you. You shove your elbow in his ribcage, “Shut up!”

You should not be surprised when he teases, “make me.” But your skin gets covered with goosebumps.

“Okay, last time we hangout it was two, three nights ago?” You try to change the topic, “I just remember that I beat your ass at Family Feud. Wanna play that again?"

Drew lets out a breathless, “no” as he puts both of his arms around you, his hands resting against the wall. “Let’s play a new game.”

He grins ear to ear when he feels you take a big breath in, the air faming the side of his face. “Let’s see who can the be the loudest, them or us.”

You look at him like he grew a second head when he starts hitting the wall and making grunt noises.

“You want to make it seem like we are having fake sex?”

He laughs, mostly to himself, “It’s not like you are taking me out of my misery and-“

You cut him off by pulling his hands off the wall to put them on both sides of your waist as you to help you saddle his lap. As you trace the outline of his abs, you cannot help to lick the rest the way up until he puts one of his hands under your chin to pull your face upwards to his. Both of you do not know who kisses who first.

When you need to catch a breath, you mutter, “what?” since his smile makes you smile too. “I want to take you on a date and stop using our roommate sex lives as an excuse to hangout.”

“Okay.” You feel like you are on cloud nine when his smile becomes even bigger. “When?”

“We got time to figure that out. For now…” He gives you a quick kiss before setting you to lay on the bed so he can get up.

You watch him grab a sock before opening the door wide enough to put it on the doorknob. “I want to keep on doing what you started.”

He runs his way back to his bed to tackle you while you have your arms wide open.

─────

Tagging the people who reblogged or comment on the post about which college AU to write first:

@ilovejjmaybank @softstarkey @pixelated-pogues @everydayimfangirling @maaybanks @scandalousfemale @thelocalpogue @sunnypogue @sortagaysortahigh @tembo-ndoto @arthiriticcricket @jjsbxtch @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge @rudysrings @ptersparkers @obx-saltlife @ssjiara @drewsephsmiles @obbx-tings @jjmaybanksbaby @jjaybank @mahleeyuh @jjcultmain @tcmhollnd @teamnick 

The college AU for Rudy will hopefully be posted tomorrow!

[free-pool-trash]

talking too fast - peter maximoff

this is my first peter maximoff fic, i actually really liked writing for him and i wouldn’t mind doing some more for him and maybe even warren if you guys would want that? idk this blog is kinda dead rn but i liked this request/idea a lot so show it some love if you like it <3

comments and reblogs are appreciated  <3

Request: Can you do like fake dating that end up in real love or something idk big cliché for our speedy boy. 'cause why tf not ksjdjdn

Word count: 3.7K (Jesus ok)

warning(s): swearing(it’s me, are we shocked? no), kinda angsty tbh, everyones a lil insecure but don’t worry it’s happy to end :)

(gifs not mine! he’s so cute oh my)

Peter Maximoff always had a tendency to go fast. That much could be seen in literally everything about him. The way he moved, the way he thought and if he was excited enough or angry enough, the way he spoke. You, of course, figured all of this out the hard way.  

It had started out innocently enough, some of the younger guys, mainly Scott, had made fun of Peter for not having a girlfriend, Peter, in response to the teasing told them that he did. He definitely didn't, but they didn't need to know that. And that's how you found yourself in your current predicament.

Peter was sprawled out on your bed, his legs hanging off the foot of the bed as he whined, “(Y/n) please! I need to prove I have a hot girlfriend!" 

Not looking up from the work you were doing at your desk, you laughed at him, "But Pete, you don't have a hot girlfriend."

The silver haired boy sighed audibly, lifting himself to sit up on your bed, at the same moment you spun around in your seat to face him.

"Nooooo…" He drew out and you shook your head in agreement, "No." You confirmed.

"But!" Peter shouted, pointing an accusing finger at you, a cheeky grin on his lips and his dimples peaking through.

"I do have a hot best friend!" He stated, wiggling his eyebrows at you, his grin turning pleading.

Peter was your best friend, ever since he'd joined the school of mutants he immediately became your favourite person and soon enough he'd claimed your best friend position. And vice versa.

You knew him better than he knew himself. So you also knew exactly what he was suggesting and you wouldn't lie and say that you never entertained the idea of being in a relationship with your doe eyed best friend, because you have, you've thought about it, you've thought about it way too much. 

For that reason you shook your head furiously at what he was insinuating, "Pete, no." 

He huffed, jumping off the bed and speeding infront of you, his eyes boring into yours. 

"Come on, sweetheart! It's not like we don't act like we're dating already, it's foolproof!" He reasoned and you couldn't dispute that you and Peter did act like a couple, and often got mistaken as already being a couple.

But still, you just couldn't put yourself through that sort of emotional stress, you wouldn't do it for a total stranger so you definitely wouldn't do it for your best friend who you've been harboring a huge crush on for the bones of a year. 

The risks it posed for your heart and your friendship with the speedster were just too high.

You couldn't help the laugh that fell from your throat as you watched Peter Maximoff, king of pranks and master of meaningless flirtations literally graveling on his knees in front of the chair you were sitting on. 

"Peter just because we cuddle in the common room and you call me 'sweetheart' sometimes does not mean we act like a couple."  right?

You told him only to be met by a frustrated whine, "Come on! I'm begging you! Just for like a week! Just to prove that I can get a hot girl to date me!" 

You stayed silent, looking at him expressionlessly. Don't give in.

"Please!" He pressed again. Don't.

"Pretty please! Hey, I'll even let you set the ground rules??? Huh???" He tried to persuade you, although he was speeding through every word he said, if you weren't used to him you probably wouldn't have caught half of what he was saying.

Don't. Fucking. Do. It.

His hands grabbed yours as he pulled you both up into standing position, he held your hands softly and gave you the puppy dog eyes that he knew always made you almost melt before releasing a final pleading, "Please?" 

Furrowing your eyebrows you let out the most dramatic sigh you could muster, but you couldn't hide the small smile growing on your lips "Fine, but you owe me." 

You're a fucking idiot. You scolded yourself silently. But how could you ever say no when he looks at you like you're the answer to everything? God you were more screwed than you thought.

"Yes! God I love my girlfriend!" He told you excitedly, pulling you in for a tight hug and kissing your cheek.

When Peter left your room that night your head was spinning and you couldn't be sure how things would go tomorrow.

Maybe you were overthinking it? You'd hold his hand for a few minutes and try and convince a bunch of sixteen years olds that your best friend could successfully obtain a girlfriend and then that would be it. But did you really want that to be it? No, you wanted more, but that you already knew. 

You'd set some ground rules with Peter to "protect the sanctity of our friendship" to which he'd laughed, but in reality the rules were to protect you from your own feelings.

Rule 1) No Kissing on the lips unless absolutely necessary

Rule 2) The lie would only be told to the students and not any of your colleagues (because you knew Peter's first stop would be rubbing your fake relationship in Warren Worthington III's face, they had some kind of light-hearted competition going on, you don't really know what it's about but you made it very clear to your best friend that you wanted no part in it.)

Rule 3) Peter cannot make comments about your fake sex life 

Rule 4) You had to wear an item of Peter's clothing to, in his words, "really sell the story."

And the final rule was, of course, no telling anybody it wasn't real.

The next day you and Peter walked hand and hand toward the common room where you could already hear Scott, Kurt, Jubilee and Jean chatting and having fun.

"You're so immature you know that, babe" You whisper quietly to your "boyfriend" while bumping his shoulders with your own which was clad in the material of his silver jacket. 

Abiding by the rules was all you were doing, you definitely weren't enjoying the way the sleeves were slightly too long so they covered your hands as far as your knuckles, or the way his scent covered you, that cologne he always wore which you happened to love the smell of and you definitely weren't enjoying the fact that despite the jacket being about two sizes too big for you it seemed to just fit. No, definitely not, you were just following Peter's rule.

He only laughed, "What's immature about wanting to show off my beautiful, stunning, hot, loving, smart, talented-" 

You had to cut him off before he could say the word "girlfriend" because you weren't his girlfriend, and hearing it would surely make you want to cry, right there in the hallway.

"Alright Romeo, I've already agreed to your babyish plan to psych out some teenagers, you don't have to butter me up."

As you entered the common room, Peter's face broke into a mischievous grin and you had a deep feeling in your stomach that this little show was going to go way too far. Hoping that this wouldn't be the end of your little show wasn't serving you very well at the moment.

You were absolutely screwed.

"Hey, nerds." Peter called out, pulling you into the room slightly behind him.

"Seriously, Maximoff? (Y/n)?" Scott asked as soon as he noticed your linked hands, his voice was disbelieving, you were a little offended honestly.

What's wrong with me? You wondered, if a pubescent sixteen year old boy could find faults in you maybe Peter was seeing the same things? Maybe that's why he doesn't really want you to be his girlfriend.

It seemed Peter noticed your panicked train of thought as he let go of your hand and wrapped an arm around your shoulder protectively, "What's that supposed to mean, Summers?"  

One of the things you loved about Peter was that he always defended you, even if you don't need defending he always has your back. But now wasn't the time to think about that, you could obsess about the feelings you so desperately try to hide for him later.

Noticing the growing irritation between the older 'couple' Scott shook his head, "No, nothing! (Y/n)'s hot, it's just, you two definitely aren't a thing."

At least they don't think I'm ugly, I guess.

 He stated, crossing his arms as the other teens nodded in agreement. All except Jean who was looking at you suspiciously.

"Why not?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow. 

As the two boys entered what was essentially a pissing contest about how Peter couldn't handle you which turned into how Scott couldn't handle Jean and as it went on and on, Jean entered your head.

'You're not really dating are you?' she asked you, something hiding in her voice, a question within a question, there was something more she wanted to say.

'Why's me and Peter being together so hard to believe?' You asked her in response, sure Jean was a telepath but you've mastered the art of manipulating what she could see when she peaked in your mind, which is probably why she was so confused.

Not that you really had anything to hide from her, what you felt for the man arguing with the teen in the middle of the common room was genuine and authentic, but better safe than sorry.

'It's just… Don't you think you could do a little better?" She pushed and then you understood that had been what she really wanted to ask in the first place.

The question made you angry, how quick they were to lessen Peter's worth. This wasn't just an issue with the younger X-Men, but with the older ones too. It seemed that nobody could appreciate Peter Maximoff for the amazing person and mutant that he is. You knew it made him insecure, he'd confided in you on so many different occasions about his self worth and because of this you'd developed a need to throw hands with anyone that treated him like a joke.

He saw himself as a loser, so he let people treat him like one.

Before you could respond to Jean's question you were interrupted by Peter whining in your ear, "Baaaaaabe, tell these guys we're together!" 

Letting out a sigh to calm yourself, hiding your angry string of thoughts from Jean was exhausting, you let a small smile settle over your face and wrapped both your arms around Peter's middle, if they wanted a show you'd give them one.

"Okay kids, Peter and I are dating, we have been for the past while. We didn't say anything because we wanted to keep it on the down low but since it's out there now, yes, we are in fact, a couple." You confirmed, confidence clear in your voice, you were asserting the facts.

Peter nodded in agreement, a smug smile on his face, he looked so proud to call you his girlfriend and you felt a pang in your chest when you reminded yourself that it was only for show.

"How'd he manage to get a girl like you though? I don't get it." Scott piped up again and you couldn't hide the exhausted expression that crossed your face.

It got to Peter, the blatant disbelief towards him, you could tell his face fell ever so slightly before he regained his composure. So you squeezed him a little tighter.

"Well, he's sweet, he's caring, he's loyal, he knows me pretty much better than I know myself, he makes me smile and laugh, he knows exactly what to do when I'm sad and sure, sometimes he can be a little much and a huge pain in the ass but it's worth it." You told the group, squeezing Peter with every word you said, smiling at the little "hey" he let out when you called him a pain in the ass, the way he was looking down at you was so pure and loving that you completely forgot to remind yourself that it was just make believe.

Your description of your fake-but-wish-it-was-real-boyfriend received an "aww" from Jubilee and a smile from Kurt, Jean and Scott however, still looked apprehensive.

Keeping the red head out of your business was giving you a headache.

"Prove it." Scott challenged as you and Peter looked at each other in confusion, how were you supposed to prove it? These kids sure were ballsy.

"Kiss." Jean added and you couldn't physically stop your eyes from rolling and your lips from forming a smirk.

You were about to break your biggest rule, but you didn't care. The whole interaction with the teens had brought Peter's self-esteem way down and you could predict he'd be crying on your shoulder because of it later on tonight. You weren't going to deny him a kiss and you absolutely weren't going to embarrass him in front of Scott fucking Summers.

"Ok." You removed your arms from around Peter's middle and brought one hand to his cheek and let the other tangle in his Silver hair, he didn't miss a beat, immediately he pulled you flush against him and placed his hands on your hips, his movements were deliberate as if he'd been imagining kissing you for as long as you'd been imagining kissing him. You pushed that thought away, the truth that he didn't think about you that way hurt too much.

His lips met yours and you could've sworn you felt sparks flying from where your lips connected. The kiss was short but it was passionate and really, really, really good. His lips were chapped but soft and the way that they moved in sync with your own sent your head spinning and your heart flipping.

When you pulled away, Peter's lips chased yours and you giggled as he placed pecks on your lips multiple times before he finally allowed you to push him away.

If you weren't so caught up in the moment you would've cried, that was everything you've been wanting for so long, but it wasn't real. You didn't think about it though, it would get a chance to bring a tear to your eye later. When you're alone.

"Alright you're dating, Jesus, get a room." Scott scowled as he scrunched up his face in disgust at the display of affection he and his own girlfriend had demanded.

Laughing, you grabbed Peter's hand in yours and began walking back towards his room, you didn't feel like answering any more awkward questions and you needed a minute to recover from Jean's constant attempts to get into your subconscious.

Once you'd both entered Peter's room and shut the door behind you, you finally let your guard down with a loud sigh, flopping down on Peter's bed and throwing an arm across your eyes to block out the light.

"Jean's mind poking really is relentless huh?" Peter said, flopping down beside you. 

"Tell me about it. She's persistent as fuck." You laughed, turning your head to look at Peter, who was already looking at you.

"That no kissing rule didn't last too long, couldn't resist?" Peter asked jokingly but you could tell that he wanted to know what caused you to abandon your number one rule.

Chewing on your cheek, you debated on whether or not you should spill all or just tell him what he needed to know at this moment in time. Going this the latter you sighed again.

"They were being assholes, I wasn't gonna embarrass you by saying no, was I?" Peter's smile was soft but it didn't reach his eyes, your voice was quiet when you added, "Besides, you looked like you needed a kiss."

His face was now turned to the ceiling with a thoughtful look adorning his features. 

As you both laid side-by-side on the unmade double bed, close enough that your arms were touching but not close enough for your fingers to be intertwined, you, a hopeless romantic, hopelessly falling for your best friend as you wear his favorite jacket and lay on his bed. And Peter who looked like he was trying to figure out the universe's greatest mystery. As you laid with each other, a heavy silence settled over you both, until Peter turned his face back to you, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Can I ask you something, (Y/n)?" Nodding wordlessly, you turned your entire body to face him, so that you were laying on your side.

"Am I really that bad?" He asked, his brown eyes staring into yours.

"What do you mean?" You asked him, you knew where this conversation was about to go, but he had a lot to say and you wanted to let him let it all out.

"All those guys back there, they didn't think I could really be your boyfriend… and hey they're probably right, you could do better. But is it really that unbelievable that someone could love me?" His last question came out cracked and tears filled his chestnut eyes.

Your own eyebrows furrowed now, you put your hand on his face and brushed the tear that slipped from his eye away. "No, Pete. What's unbelievable to me is that people can't see how fucking incredible you are." You told him, your emotions coming through in your voice, anger and sadness taking over.

"No," Peter shook his head, again returning his face to look at the ceiling before he went on, "they're right, I couldn't get a girl, especially not one like you."

That hurt, you have to admit that it hurt you so bad to hear him talk so badly about himself but what hurt most was the fact that Peter didn't want a girl that was you, no, just one that was like you.

"You have a girl like me, Pete." You reminded him sadly, turning your own face to the ceiling.

Who knew one outing as a fake couple would be all it took to make you fall apart? You did, you knew from the beginning.

Peter was upset, it was obvious by the way he spoke next, too fast and before he thought.

"No, I don't, not really. You're this incredible, pretty girl. You're talented and your mutation is useful and everyone loves you! I'm just this loser who people don't take seriously and pretty soon you're going to realize that and just leave like everyone else." 

The pit of your stomach has never felt so deep before, it was so clear to you now, in his voice, it was there, he didn't trust you to stay. And that fact hurt more than any heartbreak of rejection ever could.

Sitting up on the bed, you looked down at him, fighting the tears that were attempting to gather in your eyes.

"I know you're not a loser, Peter. I know you're incredible and talented and maybe the best friend I've ever had. But if you think I'm shallow enough to leave you behind, for some preppy asshole, you really don't trust me as much as I trust you." You finished, tears falling freely as you got off of the bed and made your way toward the door before he sped infront of you, standing between you and the door.

His eyes were wide, like a deer caught in headlights, "That's not what I meant to say!" 

You didn't say anything, just stared at him, tears falling and waiting for him to say his piece.

"I trust you more than anyone, you know everything about me, I'm sorry my mouth was going too fast and it came out all wrong." He was still rushing through his words but he took a deep breath before going on again.

"What I was trying to say is," he swallowed thickly, he was nervous, scared even, "you're amazing, you're my best friend and I've had this scenario running in my head of maybe being more than just friends. But I was afraid if I told you and you didn't feel the same you'd leave because of how awkward it would be." 

Your heart was pounding, if you had a few broken ribs after this conversation  you wouldn't be surprised, "oh."

"And when I suggested you be my fake girlfriend you were so reluctant that I figured I never had a shot. But then we kissed and I just can't come to terms with a kiss like that meaning nothing." He told you, hands finding yours, carefully.

This time it was you who was speaking before thinking, "I'm in love with you."

Hearing the words fall out of your mouth, your eyes widened, months of trying to hide the fact and you managed to let it slip out into the open without it even crossing your mind first.

Taking a shaky breath you decided to speak again and hopefully ease Peter out of the shocked state your declaration put him in.

"I didn't wanna fake date you because I wanted to real date you and I was afraid it would hurt too much. That kiss, it was real for me, I had kinda been wanting to do it for a while." You confessed to him, squeezing his hands that were still holding onto yours.

A smile overtook his face, his dimples showing and his eyes brightening, his face was lit up with what seemed like pure happiness like a puppy who's owner just got home from work.

"I love you too." 

Oh thank God.

"I knew you couldn't resist." He added shooting you a cheeky wink before he pulled you against his chest, his face was so close to yours, your noses touched and his lips met yours again.

This time was different, though. It was real and you both knew it and both wanted it.

His fingers intertwined with yours as he pulled his lips away from yours, his boyish smile coming back as he rested his forehead against yours.

"So, um, do you maybe wanna be my girlfriend, like really be my girlfriend?" He asked, still nervous about asking you despite the fact you'd both just made your feelings toward each other perfectly clear.

"I'd love to." You replied, connecting your lips to his again.

Safe to say, fake dating Peter turned into a total shit show but you're really glad it did.

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