i have to get this out of my drafts his face is bothering me so much omg

home is wherever i’m with you

length: 1k

genre(s): fluff

triggers/warnings: none

a/n: thank you to @cherryonsimon​ for the beta and @amazingmsme​ for the prompt!!

baz has a thing for simon’s wings, especially when he’s having a bad day

I can tell Baz’s had a bad day the moment he enters the flat, slamming the door behind him and muttering about daft professors and fucking study groups and–for some reason–his father. Baz has bad days and then he has Bad Days, and I can tell today is the latter.  His face is pinched, his frown is deep, and I’m not shocked when he doesn’t stop to kiss me on his way in.

Baz doesn’t live with Penny and me, but he’s over here often enough that it feels like it sometimes. He’s even got his own key and drawer. His shampoo is next to mine in the shower. It’s not much different than when we were roommates at Watford, except it feels more domestic now, means something different. There we cohabitated because we had to, now we do it because we want to. It’s scary sometimes how okay I am with that.

Baz claims it’s just because Fiona is gone so much and he can’t be bothered to buy food, but I know better.

I also know better than to push him to admit things.

It took us a while to get to this point, if I’m honest. We still get into it, even now that we’re together. Some things never really change. He’s overdramatic, Baz is. And stubborn. And I suppose I can be a bit stubborn at times too, which isn’t very helpful when you’re having a row and neither side will back down.

But I’m always careful around him when he gets like this and I always know what he needs.

The first time it happened, we’d been on the couch watching Masterchef reruns. I’d been about to get up to get a snack because the show always makes me hungry, when I felt Baz’s fingers brushing my right wing. My first instinct was to pull it back until I noticed his expression. He looked peaceful as he stroked it and I found I didn’t mind the sensation all that much. Or having to give up my snack.

Actually, that’s a lie.  I pushed him away about 10 minutes later and got some crisps from the kitchen. He looked ready to throttle me until I handed him his own bag (salt & vinegar) and we resumed our earlier position.

It’s turned into a routine. Most days it’s just idle touches here and there, but on bad days, especially Bad Days, Baz likes to snuggle under them like a child. I don’t mind. I spent so long making him miserable, I’d do most anything to make him happy.

Fucking Snow is waiting by the door when I get home, looking like a kicked puppy when I shove my way past him to the bathroom. I strip down once I’m there and turn on the shower, hotter than it needs to be. I need to wash this day off of my skin, scald myself until it’s completely gone and I can forget about every little thing that went wrong.

I know he won’t try to talk to me about it. It’s one of the (many) things I love about Simon. He understands that sometimes it’s okay to just… not talk.

I can hear him bustling around the flat even through the bathroom door. He’s not exactly quiet, especially when he’s always bumping things with his wings or tripping over that damn tail.

I step under the spray and let the water run down my back. The slight burn feels good. Therapeutic. Grabbing my shampoo from the shelf where I’d left it the last time I was here, I start to wash up.

Occasionally I think I should stop pretending and just move in properly, but we really do need space from each other sometimes. Still, I’ve left so much over here. Like clothes. And shampoo. My shampoo that Simon used once, when his ran out, and I hated it. He smelled… wrong. Which is about a thousand times worse when you’ve got a vampiric supernose.

I finish up in the shower and put on a pair of Simon’s trackies. I briefly consider nicking a t-shirt as well, but the holes on the back always feel weird, like a draft right on your shoulder blades.

When I enter the lounge Simon’s waiting with a cup of tea and his wing open at his side. He’s put in the dvd for the first season of Downton Abbey, a major acquiescence on his part (although he does occasionally get into the storylines).  

I sit next to him and lean into his side. He rests his wing on my shoulder, effectively wrapping me up, and I exhale and reach for the cup. He’s made it just the way I like it, the way only he knows: with lots of sugar and light on the milk. The exact opposite of him. His own pale brown cup is sitting half-drunk on the coffee table, probably already cold. Simon has a habit of doing that.

“I like this.” I say and take a sip. It’s perfect.

“I know,” he replies, “you don’t exactly keep it a secret.”

It’s true. I’m a bit obsessed with Simon’s wings. Sue me. I’m always finding excuses to touch them, especially on days like this when nothing seems to be going quite right and all I want to do is curl up on the couch and hide from the world.

Once I’ve finished my tea, we rearrange ourselves on the couch so I’m almost in Simon’s lap and both of his wings are surrounding me. We lay like that until the first episode fades into the second and I realize that Simon’s fallen asleep behind me. I feel his warm breath against the back of my neck as he begins to snore softly. It’s comforting, this routine.

I suppose it’s not quite normal–normal, not Normal–to enjoy being cocooned by a pair of wings belonging to your boyfriend, but then again, nothing about our life is.

And that’s perfectly fine by me.

Girl Next Door

AN: (FIRST IMAGINE OF 2017 YAY) i read a prompt like this before but i forgot where i found it omg but i’ve had this in my drafts for so long and I only finished it now lmao (btw this one’s going to be in 3rd person POV just because I’ve never written in 3rd person and i want to practice lol)

Peter Parker x Reader

Send in prompts from this list!

Originally posted by septodragon

Y/N was trying to balance the giant box she was holding in one hand while she tried to grab the keys from her back pocket. She knows she could have easily just put the box down but she couldn’t be bothered to bend down and pick up the heavy box again. The struggle. Was. Real. Managing to balance the box on one hand was not an easy task. 

“Do you need some help?” 

Y/N turned her head to see a boy her age. He was standing by the front of his door. The girl weighed her options (she also noted that said boy was incredibly cute) before giving in. 

“Uh, yeah, if you could just hold this for a minute while I get my keys, that would be great.” She gave a shy smile. Peter Parker’s heart raced. Y/N’s smile, though, small was absolutely stunning. He froze for a moment before moving towards her. “Be careful. It’s kind of heavy, don’t want you getting hurt so just a little warning.” 

Her concern for a complete stranger fed Peter’s growing attraction. 

Keep reading

a/n: part deux to the kissing prank/youtube drabble

w/c: 1.2k


Niall squints at the number, back hunched over, with his fingers hovering over the keys of his laptop.

“I told you having him would help,” Louis says after a moment, grinning widely as he pokes at Niall’s side.

Keep reading

badboy!calum Imagine

cliquecalum requested: hello katie!! can u write a badboy!calum blurb where u accidentally find his notebook of scribbled song lyrics and what he would do if u found out some of them were about u? :-)

Let’s face it, school is always so boring. Being near the end of school only made the agony even worse. But nothing had prepared you for the hell that your next class offers each day.

Since the beginning of the school year you’ve sat in front of the one and only, too-bad-ass-for-anyone Calum Hood. He was a genuinely quiet guy at first - in fact he used to be slightly dorky. You got to know him a bit, became great friends; you guys even hung out for countless hours every week. It seemed like the start of a genuinely amazing friendship, or maybe something more.

That is, before he ran into Michael Clifford and his gang. Now he thinks he’s some hot shit because he beefed up, got a few tattoos and changed his style. He’s got the ability to charm any girl into his bed, only to toss them aside the next day and still have them hooked on him. A true asshole at the finest.

Despite this, the girls seem to love it; they think he’s so cool and mysterious, yet still the sweet guy he was before. They’re wrong, and only you seem to know the difference. He’s changed, and not for the better. All he does is act like an asshole now, and you’ve got the unfortunate experience to prove it.

“So, Y/N, how does it feel to still be a loser?” His taunting voice whispered in your ear. You didn’t even have to turn around to know that he had his cliche signature smirk.

“I dunno, how does it feel to be an asshole?” You replied quietly, trying not to draw attention. The last thing you needed was a scene - and another detention.

“Someone sounds hostile. What have I ever done to you sweetheart?” He asked mockingly, pushing your buttons even more.

“Take a look in the mirror, Calum. Maybe you’ll see past your shallow, pathetic interior and see something deeper.” You sighed, trying to give up on the conversation. You didn’t have the patience for him right now; your grade in this class is dropping quickly and you don’t need any more distractions.

“Well, this one time I looked in the mirror and saw myself balls deep in this hot chick, if that’s what you mean.” He laughed. “Y’know what I think? I think you wish that was you.”

“GOD DAMMIT CALUM YOU’RE SUCH AN ASSHOLE!” You shouted as you turned around. Right now, you don’t care about getting detention. Calum crossed a line. He may be right, but it pissed you off how vile he was about it.

“Y/N Y/L/N! DETENTION!” Your teacher shouted at you, causing you to turn around and blush. Calum couldn’t contain his laughter as you slunk down in your chair, annoyed and embarrassed.

“Guess I’ll be seeing you after school, Y/N.” Calum whispered in your ear, his voice almost seductive. It gave you shivers - both the good and bad kind.

Another half hour later and class finally got out. Your mind had been slipping throughout the rest of the lesson, so you were very slow to pack up your things. You purposefully blocked the aisle Calum had to walk through to annoy him, trying to do something to get back at him for earlier.

“Move.” Calum mumbled as he shoved his way past you. You let out a loud groan as the contents of your backpack spilled out onto the floor, mumbling curses at him under your breath as you went to pick up your things. 

An unfamiliar white notebook caught your eye; on the corner of it, scribbled in messy handwriting, was ‘property of calum hood’. You nearly called after him, to return the notebook, but you opted to take it instead, and give it back to him later. Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll find some embarrassing things in there instead of things like science notes.

After a whole lunch hour of reading the notebook, which turned out to be his song book, a part of you really wished you’d called after him.


Detention is not as bad as everyone makes it out to be. More than half the time, the teacher in charge isn’t even here - he just keeps the door locked so we don’t walk out. However, it’s worse than bad when it’s only you and Calum in the room.

You wanted to give his song book back, but after viewing the contents inside, you’re not sure how to approach it. One wrong move, and all hell will probably break loose. You rested your head on your chin as you pondered a way to bring it up, as well as go over responses for any questions or accusations you got from him.

“Y/N!” Calum shouted, practically in your ear. You turned your head to glare at him, but as soon as your eyes caught his, you found yourself unable to hold his gaze.

“What do you want Calum?” You muttered, trying to forget everything you’d read in his song book.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked. You wondered why he was even interested in your thoughts, and why he seemed to be acting nicer to you; that is, until he made a snarky comment. “That face you were making looked really weird.”

“Just shut up Cal.” You retorted, leaning your forehead in between your index finger and thumb in an attempt to shield your blushing face from his gaze.

“Awww c’mon, I wanna know what’s got you so hot and bothered.” He replied. If he was a cartoon character, you’re certain his mischievous smile would have one of those flashy glints to it. But now, it was time to get him to be the flustered one as you pulled out his notebook from your bag.

“Well, I just so happened to find a certain notebook on the floor…” You started, smirking at Calum’s face as it’s typical cockiness was replaced with wide-eyed nervousness. “And it happened to have the most peculiar things in it…”

Calum opened his mouth to say something, yet was unable to produce any words. Truthfully, he didn’t know what to say; there’s no way he can dig himself out of this mess, let alone leave here unscathed. Something was bound to happen, and all he wanted to do was disappear from the face of the earth.

“The little notes on the sides of your songs are so cute. Here, let me read one.” You taunted as you opened the book. Calum just sat in his seat, his head held down; you assumed he was embarrassed.

“All I can think of is Y/N during this line. She’s so out of my limit.” You read, unable to suppress a smile. As much as an asshole Calum is, you were certainly pleased that he wrote such sweet things about you. “So, Calum, just how far out of your limit do you really think I am?”

Calum heaved out a sigh, and looked up at you. What shocked you was the tears in his eyes. He hadn’t exactly shed any yet, but it seemed as though he was about to. “You’re far more than a little bit out of my limit Y/N.”

You wanted to say something to make him feel better, because as much as you wanted to humiliate him you hate seeing people cry. But Calum continued, his words reeling in your mind. “You’re way out of my limit. When I first met you, I thought I kinda had a shot. And then I met Clifford and his friends and, well, for once I felt like I belonged with someone. I changed my style a bit and stuff, and because of that I felt a lot more confident. I felt confident enough to ask you out. And then I started getting all of this attention from other girls, so I kinda just went with it. But then I saw the looks you gave me… you looked like you hated my existence Y/N. It hurt, and I don’t deal well with rejection like that so I thought it’d be easier to just hate you back. I know I’m an asshole now, and I know I can’t make it up to you, but for the love of God will you please stop rubbing my feelings for you in my face. It hurts too much.”

After his little speech was finished you noticed how tears began to fall rapidly from his eyes and immediately felt like an asshole. Sure you thought Calum was the asshole, but here you are rubbing his feelings for you in his face, pouring lemon juice on his open wounds and there’s nowhere for him to escape it.

“Hey… Cal?” You started. He gave you no response, just sat there with his head in his hands and occasionally sniffling. “Look I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know that’s what you felt like, I just heard some nasty rumors about Clifford and thought you were trying to be a replica of him. I shouldn’t have judged anyone before getting to know them first. I’m sorry for making you cry, I honestly didn’t mean to hurt you like this. Think we could, y’know, start over?”

Calum looked up at you, his eyes bloodshot and still teary, yet holding the largest amount of happiness you’ve ever seen in someone’s eyes before. “Yeah, let’s start over.”