no i never felt this way before

Unrequited (Peter Parker x Reader)

a/n: Okay, I’m not new to writing or anything but this IS my first post on this brand spanking new account! I hope you guys like it!

warning: lots of angst and all that

summary: reader pines after Peter, who doesn’t realize it as he’s infatuated with Liz



I can’t say my heart didn’t break a little more each and every time I caught Peter staring at or blushing over Liz Allen. She was so freaking gorgeous, and in all honesty perfect in every single way, except for her personality maybe. Even though Peter and I had been the best of friends for years, I could never compare to how much love and adoration he had for the girl, and it broke me every single day.

I sighed heavily, trying to shake the depressing thoughts from my mind as I continued walking to school. I don’t know how it happened and I wish it never had, but one day I just woke up and saw Peter in a whole new way. He had just come over to my apartment for our weekly movie night, which had been our tradition since we were little kids.

I heard a knock sound from the front door, signaling that my best friend was probably waiting on the other side.

“Come in Peter! The doors open!” I shook my head, since he should already know that after coming to my house countless of times.

The door creaked open and there he was, with his cute little smile, wearing a red hoodie and a pair of baggy sweatpants. For some reason, my breath hitched as I took his appearance in. He looked so unbelievably cute, with his curly brown hair all messed up and ruffled like that. He was holding two grocery bags in each of his hands, overflowing with what I could only assume was junk food. My eyes lit up as I practically ran over to him and snatched the bags out of his hands. I looked inside and saw all my favorite chips, ice cream, candy, you name it.

I squealed and hugged him tightly, “You’re seriously the best Petey, I don’t know what I did to deserve a friend as amazing as you.”

He laughed, putting his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side as he kissed my forehead. “Anything for the best girl in the entire universe.”

I blushed madly and pushed him away, “Shut up you dork, now let’s go watch some movies.”

He chuckled and led us over to the couch, as we spent the rest of the night cuddled into each other as we laughed, talked, and ate our hearts away. I couldn’t shake the butterflies growing in my stomach, and the electricity I felt when our bodies touched. His warmth had never felt so comforting to me, and hearing his voice was sending my heart into a frenzy.

I looked at him while he was laughing at a stupid joke in the movie, watching as the colorful lights from the tv screen reflected on his face. My heart swelled with an emotion I had never felt before as I found myself smiling at the adorable guy sitting next to me. He was so full of happiness and life, and it was so infectious that I found myself being happy just by being in the same room as him. In that moment, I felt myself falling for none other than my best friend, Peter Parker.

Tears welled up into my eyes as I realized that he would never feel the same way about me. That night took place over 2 years ago, with us being in our Junior year of high school now. All this time, he’s never even sent a signal my way that he felt the same way. So here I was, pining over someone I could never have, pathetic.

I walked into the school, feeling like I had one of those cartoon rain clouds over my head. I really, really tried not to think about my undying love for Peter Parker since I would get into depressive episodes like this, but it’s kind of hard to when the dude is literally everywhere I go. You know, since he’s my best friend and all.

I threw my locker door open in a huff, roughly getting all the books I’m going to need for the day. A figure leaned on the lockers next to mine, and I already knew who it was before I even had to look. Speak of the devil.

“You look like you had a rough morning, wanna talk about it?” Peter asked, crossing his arms and smiling softly at me. His hair was particularly messy and curly today, and it made me want to run my hands through it and feel how soft it was.

I gave him a small smile and just shrugged at him as I closed my locker door, walking off as he followed me to our first class, which was history.

“Ooookay so I’m taking that as a no…but you know I’m here for you whenever you need me alright?” He said, making it even harder for me to stay sad about something that he obviously had no control over. It wasn’t his fault that I fell stupidly in love with him. Or maybe it is, I don’t know.

I sighed, closing my eyes and leaning onto his shoulder. “Yea I’m totally fine Pete, sorry, it’s just that I barely had any sleep last night,” I lied, forcing a smile at him and looping my arm through his as we walked down the hallway.

He looked at me suspiciously, not entirely believing me but deciding to let it go as we sat down at our desks, which were right next to each other. I internally thanked him, happy he didn’t probe into my problems any further.

Classes seemed to go on for hours, but it was finally lunch time. I was in a better mood by now as Ned and Peter’s dumb jokes made me laugh until my lungs hurt. I threw a green pea at Peter’s head, laughing as it struck his eye and fell onto the floor.

Peter’s face scrunched up in mock pain as he looked at me through squinted eyes, “Oh I am so getting you back for that (y/n)!” He threatened, pointing an accusatory finger at me as he rubbed his eye.

I stuck my tongue out at him, “Oh yea? Whatcha gonna do about it Parker?” I teased, slapping his hand away from my face.

Before he could come up with something, Michelle piped up from the end of the lunch table. “You guys are so immature,” she said with a bored face, rolling her eyes at us.

“If we’re so immature, then why do you sit with us?” Ned questioned, looking at her weirdly. Michelle shrugged boredly and went back to reading her book without answering him.

“Okayyy then…well anyw-” I was cut off as a literal roll of bread hit the side of my face. My eyes widened in shock as I slowly turned away from Michelle and faced my attacker with my mouth wide open. Ned was trying to hold in his laugh while he put his hands up in defense and pointed at Peter, who was laughing loudly at me and holding his stomach as he tried to breath through his laughter.

I glared at the adorable boy across from me, “Do you wanna fight, dork?” I laughed slightly, trying to keep a straight face on.

“I could beat you any day, (y/n). Just name the time and place.” He said cockily, leaning his head on his hand as he tried to wink at me, and failed miserably.

I giggled at his silliness and tried to come up with a witty reply, but just settled for rolling my eyes at him and patting his cheek. I looked up at the clock and quickly packed my stuff up seeing as there was only 2 minutes of lunch left.

“I’ll see you guys later,” I smiled at all of them, before taking one last longing glance at Peter and making my way out of the cafeteria.

After the last bell rang, I creeped up behind Peter while he was putting his stuff away in his locker and put my hands over his eyes.

“Guess whooo!” I giggled, face reddening when I realized how close we were.

Peter seemed to realize it too as he nervously stuttered out my name and slowly turned around, looking down at me and giving me a small smile, a soft blush on his cheeks. He didn’t step away, and we were so close that I could feel his breath fan across my face.

His gorgeous brown eyes stared into my own, and I felt as if the world around us faded away and it was just the two of us in that crowded hallway. My breath caught in my throat as I looked up at him, taking note of all his features and thinking about kissing those perfect pink lips of his.

He suddenly seemed to snap out of whatever trance we were both in, clearing his throat and stepping away from me, widening the space between us. My heart dropped in disappointment at the sudden distance. I soon understood why he stepped away as right on queue, Liz Allen walked by us and stopped and turned to Peter. She put her hand on his arm, much to my discomfort.

“Hey Pete!” she giggled, blinking her lashes at him like a ditzy school girl. “I was wondering if you could come over to my house tonight and help me with my science project?”

“H-hey Liz! Uhm y-yeah! I would love to! I mean that would be n-nice I guess, I love doing science projects..and sciencey things, a-and yeah!” his voice sounded out as he tried to talk to Liz through his nervousness.

By this point, Peter was beet red with embarrassment as he tried to maintain eye contact with Liz.

“Great! Thanks so much cutie, I owe you one,” Liz giggled, kissing his cheek as she turned around and strutted away from us. My blood boiled at the sight and how she talked to him. She didn’t even acknowledge my existence throughout that whole conversation.

Peter grabbed my shoulders excitedly as he shook me lightly.

“(Y/n)! Did you see that?? I get to spend time with Liz tonight!” He babbled excitedly, looking down at you with the biggest grin.

My chest hurt as I looked at the effect Liz had on him, wishing that it was me who could make him feel like this.

I faked a smile at him, taking a step back and closing my eyes so I could breathe.

“But our weekly movie night is tonight, Pete. We’re supposed to have a Disney movie marathon,” I frowned, looking up at him as I tried my best to keep my eyes from watering.

“I’m sorry (y/n), we can do it next week! You know how important Liz is to me. I’ve had a crush on her for so long and this is finally my chance!” Peter pleaded, trying to get my approval. He reached his hand out to my face subconsciously and pushed a stray hair behind my ear.

I closed my eyes as I tried to keep my heart from beating out of my chest. I pushed his hand away and started backing away from him, feeling hurt and betrayed. Obviously spending time with Liz was more important than our tradition that had been unscathed for years. He never missed movie night with me.

“Whatever Peter. Have fun with her.” I scoffed running away from him and out of the school.

I heard him calling out my name, but I ignored it as hot tears slid down my face. I am, and never will be good enough for Peter Parker.

Oops, My Bad

@umpeters hope you enjoy love. x

A/N: i don’t do smut, so don’t ask || enjoy ♥

Fandom: Disney Descendants

Boy: Carlos De Vil

Word Count: 1,807

Warning(s): Fluff

‘‘You’re lucky you’re a dog, because if you were a human.. Man, I’d take you down.’’

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Dating Diana Prince Would Include...

anon ask : can you do what dating diana prince would be like?? i really liked your malia tate headcannons so much!! 

 [A/N] : aww im glad you liked it!! i just finished doing my chemistry homework and im in a good mood bc i got an A for it sooo here ya gooo!! (this was supposed to be posted tomorrow but im in a good mood) 

how does one obtain a diana prince in their life 

Masterlist / Ask Me


Originally posted by jyncassian


  • the first time she saw you she nearly fainted mostly because she lived on an island full of women and she never felt this way before?? 
  • the only time she felt like this was with Steve after he died 
  • she thought that she wouldn’t ever feel that way again but then she saw you and wow?? 
  • you didn’t even look that nice in fact you were a mess 
  • you worked at the louvre too 
  • you were carrying stacks of papers 
  • while struggling from dropping them you accidentally knocked down a very expensive vase 
  • diana caught it in time 
  • the vase was covering your face so she lowered it down 
  • and then she saw you apologizing over and over again with a blush on your cheeks 
  • she dropped the vase

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And Then He Kissed Me. 

The Crystals.

Well he walked up to me
And he asked me if I wanted to dance
He looked kind of nice
And so I said I might take a chance
When he danced he held me tight
And when he walked me home that night
All the stars were shining bright
And then he kissed me


Each time I saw him
I couldn’t wait to see him again
I wanted to let him know
That he was more than a friend
I didn’t know just what to do
So I whispered “I love you”
And he said that he loved me too
And then he kissed me

He kissed me in a way that I’ve never been kissed before
In a way that I want to be kissed forever more

I knew that he was mine
So I gave him all the love that I had

And one day he took me home
To meet his Mom and his Dad
Then he asked me to be his bride
And always be right by his side
Felt so happy I almost cried
And then he kissed me

Then he asked me to be his bride
And always be right by his side
Felt so happy I almost cried
And then he kissed me
And then he kissed me
And then he kissed me

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iG88R5SwQRw

3

It’s been a while since I’ve done chibis so I did these guys! Honestly, I’ve never felt so judge by my own drawing before Abel XD I felt soo judged the whole time! Like, I was singing while I was drawing and the face he was giving me was making me feel like he was going “you like to sing, huh? Yeah?” I had a legit onesided argument with him about that face he was making. My brother was concerned and when he saw the face, he joined in the argument. It was really funny XD
Elymas was really really fun to draw, I love him soo much! He’s the best Chibi I think I’ve ever done!!
Mob boss Bendy looks so done with the little one clinging to his arm…

But yeah, these were fun to do. Maaybe I’ll do more in the future, who knows.


Mob boss Bendy belongs to @thelostmoongazer

Abel belongs to @the-vampire-inside-me

Elymas belongs to @animal-guardian

Ink Shop Bendy belongs to me

anonymous asked:

do you have any advice for people with social anxiety for when they are going to work? (sry if my english is bad)

your english is perfect!

and i know exactly how you feel. i got my first job at 16 and i would shake every day before i went into work because i was new and i was so afraid of messing up or getting yelled at. my boss actually told me that she remembered when i first started working there and i would always just keep my head down and sweep LOL

but now i’ve been there for almost 4 years and become a manager and i’ve never felt more comfortable in an environment like that before. i know it sucks but for me, the only way to get rid of the anxiety is to just wait it out. once you spend more time at your workplace and start to really get to know everyone, eventually the anxiety will go away. its all about feeling confident in what youre doing, and comfortable around the people youre doing it with :)))

Saw the mental health nurse today. We got into talking about Nate’s cleft and his journey, more specifically what it was like to take him out in public and people’s reactions. She seemed surprised that we felt comfortable enough to enter him in the newspaper cute baby competition where his photo was public consumption for their readership, but in a nice “wow that’s so great” way not a “why would you put a cleft kid in the newspaper” way.
She was also honestly shocked that people would just approach us randomly and ask what was wrong with his face. I explained it was never a malicious thing, people had just never seen anything like it before so we just tried to ignore our irritation and explain things to educate them. But being kinda congratulated for taking it as an opportunity to spread facts and not hide him or the truth away felt a little unnecessary. I mean yes, we shared him openly more than most parents with kids with clefts would, but that’s not really noteworthy or anything. Representation is important and we wanted to provide that, but that doesn’t mean that we did things “right” and other people do them “wrong”. It’s just personal choice.

Anyway it was nice to feel validated nonetheless. 😊

Why Commenting On FanFiction Is Important

Alright kids, Boo here with a hopefully non-arrogant PSA.

I’m a writer of FanFiction because I like it and it’s my preferred genre (also a great way to receive feedback on writing that I can use on originals, bref). But like with most artistic work posted online, I have very little feedback.

When I was in a slightly writing rut, I cranked one shots left and right, nothing out of the ordinary. But instead of people commenting with their thoughts and good feedback, they just gave me requests.

I don’t think I could ever put into words what that felt like, but I’ll try (the irony of being a writer). It suddenly felt tiring, being a writer, and very quickly I stopped writing altogether. I only ever showed my friend what I wrote and left it at that. I haven’t published anything for a while after. It felt like people were treating me like a mule wanting me to do work for them, and I just wasn’t up for that. I lost my will to write, and then I began to think, “If I post something else other than what was requested, will people even read it?”

Then you get the infamous comments, “You haven’t forgotten about my request right??? Here’s another.”

That just adds anxiety and guilt. I’m purposely ignoring the comments to save my own uncreative ass, at least that’s what it feels like.

After weeks of convincing myself that my stories are worth sharing no matter how many people read them, I started writing and publishing again while working on some longer pieces. Slowly it got better.

Now this week, I remembered I joined another fanfiction platform, and realized I had never published anything on it. I had an idea, and so I started writing. It didn’t come out as I imagined it would, but I was so proud? Like, I started feeling happy about what I created again. Like genuine happiness that I haven’t felt in months since my last published work.

A few hours later, I get this comment:

I cranked out three 3k stories after reading this.

In four days.

It never happened before, and I don’t know how many times it will happen again. It was one comment, but it gave me so much fighting spirit that I think I’m on my way to regaining my initial writer mindset.

Fanfiction writers depend on feedback as a validation that their stories matter to people. If you’re wondering why your favourite author hasn’t updated/posted in a while, ask yourself, “Did I do everything that would convince them to continue writing this?”

“make the princess speak and you will have the crown of kings.”

my knees hurt, as usual, from scrubbing. technically i’m too high of Maid Station to help out with these things, but i like seeing what happens when you clean. the development of things. how a lot of effort can make something. i like learning and trying and working hard to get towards something.

and i’ve seen them, from the back of pillars, from behind cracked doors, from beside her (on the best days) the way they talk to her. oh beautiful won’t you just look at me. oh darling. if you speak i’ll be your prince. if you speak i’ll be your king. 

the princess, i know, finds the lines of suitors boring. it’s in the way her hands are always moving. she hides yawns, leaves early, we make her apologies. once, a man comes and tries to startle her into screaming. she rolls her eyes and looks directly at me. i have to hide my smile behind my sleeve. he is taken away while still screaming.

by accident, i find her once, crying. when we imagine princesses, they always cry daintily. hers is hoarse, angry, and something in it breaks me. in my station i should apologize and bow and leave. instead i am frozen, watching her shoulders heaving.

she looks up and spots me, her cheeks ruddy. i know i should go but instead i make a big show. i act as one of her princes. i make grand gestures and speak in deep voices. i frantically offer her handkerchiefs and trip over my own two feet. a smile crawls up over her, slowly. i dab my sweat away and offer her the used rag. i feign a fluster, turn a terrible cartwheel, make shadow puppets. the sound of her laugh, raw and rusty, sends shivers through me.

for a while, i do not see her after this. but then i am called to her chambers. she is crying again. i offer silly gifts, pebbles and dusting rags and a candlestick from her own kitchen, pretend to steal it, use it as a hat, rock it as a babe. she laughs more easily this time, gladly, and when she laughs i am taken by more important maids, thereby officially Excused.

it goes like this for months. the winter comes. i rarely see her. i spend my week thinking about ways to please her. i knick interesting cookies, show her shiny buttons, learn to cartwheel in a full skirt, and then promptly how to make it look foolish again. i learn how to juggle hot bread and dance as a man would, i learn how to balance on a ball and how to fall down without hurting myself, how to fake a fight with my own body, which colors she likes and which don’t please her.

i show up on a cold eve with a knotted line of scarves hidden down my sleeve, worried and breathless, wondering why she’s been crying. the door opens and she is sitting there, happy. at first i’m confused, but she waves me in. next to her is her small dessert, in two containers. i’m not sure how to respond, so i fake a fall to hear her laugh, and then sit at her feet. she gives me ice cream - so rare a treat. i know what went into making it - the hours of shaking. it’s smooth and tasty. i don’t feign my reaction, but she laughs anyway, kindly. 

it goes like this. i see her more frequently. she likes giving me new things, watching me discover i hate kiwi and love oranges and would die if it made her laugh breathlessly. i’ve made her keel over with cackling and she’s put a fire in me. sometimes we just sit there, quietly, enjoying each other’s company. 

it’s in her hands, always moving. little things i thought were just her, fidgeting. here’s how she says she’s thirsty, this is what her hands do when she needs a second to think, here’s how she shows she’s happy. this is how i learn to speak back to her. around her i spend much of my time smiling. i feel every visit is a gift. a new part to unravel. i find out she doesn’t respond to spoken things, that she needs to be looking in order to know you were speaking. sometimes she has me talk and she holds her hands to the base of my throat, her eyes wide and wondering. sometimes she just looks at me and i forget that i’m her jester in chief. i get caught up in her eyes, in how expressive they are when she’s happy, in how when she’s sad i feel like i’m drowning.

i never see the king or queen, but i know when she’s had a visit with them, because she never comes back happy. two winters i have known her, two winters and now we dine frequently. i am often called to stand beside her, to whisper translations of her desires into the ears of someone more important than i, someone who gets to be the voice of royalty. i can’t decide if i’m her friend or her plaything, but i don’t know i care much of the distinction. every moment i’m near her is a moment free of friction. i take stock of suitors and curtsy to them in daylight only to mock them in the candle’s eye later.

she asks me one night to stay. it has been a bad day. it’s completely not okay. i cannot say no but i cannot, by my station, stay. but she begs with her eyes and her hands and i know i’ll take the punishment. 

we lie beside each other. i make sure to turn to her when i speak. in the dark she can’t see me, so i move my hands in the way i’m learning. she asks if i am ever lonely. i cannot tell her that i am always lonely without her beside me, so instead i say i think all people are very lonely and just are pretending. she laughs a little at that and says she thinks her parents are the two most lonely people that ever met. her mother was like her; broke a fairy curse and talked, just once, although nobody knows what she said. well, excepting her father, who was the only one around, and who won her hand in marriage.

from her mother she learned the art of hands, of speaking without words - from her father she learned that who she was included a curse. that she just wanted someone who would make her open like a rose - someone who could fix her. how she stared out into the royal garden and wished on flowers to be what her kingdom needs.

she fell asleep pressed against me. i couldn’t breathe. i was still awake in the morning. 

the punishment never came. we spent nights like this. the handmaidens had grown to know me. whenever their princess was stubborn, i worked magic and made her lovely.

it was a terrible thing. i did too good a job, i think. the princess glowed too much or shone too brightly - or at least, i saw it that way, so who knows what the truth is. every day it felt like we were being rushed with princes. 

her father’s temper at hosting failed. it was the day before her twenty-first birthday and first time i’d ever seen him. he stormed in at the end of the session. “just speak!” he said, “it’s not that hard! do for others what your mother did!” 

“tomorrow is your last day of this,” he warned her, “either you pick a prince or i pick for you. i’m done with it.”

he stormed off. she was left shellshocked and trembling. that night she didn’t ask me to come, but i waited outside, just in case she changed her mind. i understood why she needed space. either she’d speak and be married tomorrow or she’d be married shortly. i heard her crying and it took everything in my power not to rush in and hold her, cradle her gently. but i cannot come into a room of a royal person without being invited. i stayed there, tears in my own eyes, thinking of treason.

the next day was a huge festival. what had been a birthday celebration was turned into a day about princes. i watched her shake her head. i tried to cheer her up. i tried everything. i frequently came inches from causing public humiliation, toed the line of mocking and failing to acknowledge my station. she wouldn’t smile. not once. not even for anything.

the day was long. the bonfire wore down. i watched her crumple into herself. i was out of ideas. i knelt at her feet. her eyes barely looked at me. just wait, i said to her with my hands, i’ll be right back. i took off running.

the price of stealing is losing my hands. these things that i spoke to her with. these things that mattered so much to me, that helped with my comedy and cleaning. 

i didn’t think of them. i bloodied my fingers when i ripped the royal roses from their stems. and then i ran, as fast as i could, back to her feet. i picked them to show you, i said, as she gasped, looking at my treason, they’re beautiful and nobody told them to open to reveal their secrets to the bees. they are unbroken. as you are. as you always will be. 

she fell off her throne and for a second i was beyond speaking, worried something had happened, or she’d fainted, or i’d said the wrong thing. but then she was on her knees, her arms around me, and i heard it. i heard the soft croak of her speaking. just one word, and it sent shivers down me. my name, in her voice, awkward and unwieldy, but full of love and passion, burning fire through me.

i felt a hand on my shoulder. i was pulled away from her. they already had me in handcuffs while i struggled to get back to her, to tell her i loved her, to beg her to run off with me or maybe just hold me around her, maybe just have her for a moment, because i couldn’t live without her for a moment longer.

they put me in the cells. i rotted in there, for a while or for no time at all, i’m not sure. the thorns scarred my palms. i watched the scabs build up and flake off. every time someone came down, i flinched, wondering if i would be the next to be taken and chopped into bits.

but one day the light was different. not the smoky torch of the jailer, instead a bright light in a lantern. at first when i saw her, my breath caught in my throat, mistaking her for my princess.

but she was my queen. at first we stood in silence. and slowly, i moved my hands to speak. is she married? is what came out, even though i should be more worried about me myself and me.

she is not. she bit her father on the arm when he tried to make her. then she fought him. and then ran away. it took us a bit to find her, i’m afraid. she threatened her own life and the life of everyone in this place. the queen was smiling. i was told there was a young woman who could make the princess speak, whom she would die to save, who brought roses to her feet. someone in a cell, rotting. are you her?

the memory of her voice rang through me. i’m she.

yes, her hands said, for even now, aren’t you speaking to the silent Queen?

she opened the door. come, she said, let’s get you cleaned up for the ceremony.

the crown of kings. when she wraps her arms around my neck and laughs next to me, i am royalty. when she smiles or makes a joke or asks to see my cartwheel again, i’m lost in her. i kiss her whenever i can, which is often. we have roses in a vase at the base of our bed, and for all of the kingdom, i’d give my hands if it would keep her laughing.

the next time she spoke was just once, at our wedding, where she said the two words i do to bind us for eternity. she had learned from me, from holding her hands over my voicebox, the way i learned from her how to use hands to speak. sometimes at night she says my name, just because she likes what it does to me.

i’m more blessed than a king. every day i spend with her is a day i spend happily. 

Quit Staring

Summary: Tom won’t quit staring. (lol)

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 638

A/N: Lots of floof and flirting, hope you enjoyyyyyy

Originally posted by thomashclland

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The Pilgrim (Part 1)

This is the first half of a Zimbits soulmate AU, where you can feel the pull of your soulmate like a compass. This is a first draft, so no corrections have been made so far. I just wanted to throw it out there. There will be a second and final part to this- and I’ll do my best to write it soon. 




Dear Mama and Coach,

I’m sorry to leave with only a note, but this is something I have to do. I left for my pilgrimage. I know I’m way too young, but I couldn’t wait. … I think my soulmate is dying. I felt the pull stop for a full minute. It never happened before. I can’t wait another four years before seeking them! I hope you understand.

Also, I didn’t tell y’all because… I think my soulmate may be a man.

I hope you’re not too mad at me. I’ll call.

I love you both,

– Dicky


North. The pull had always pointed North. Sometimes, when Eric changed cities, he tried to triangulate the feel, but there was never enough difference in what he felt to pinpoint a precise location on a map. His soulmate could be in any of the states above Georgia, or- well, they could live further North. He wondered what would be worse for his parents, that his soulmate was a man, or that he was a Yankee.

He’d stressed about it for years but, now that he was stuck on a bus for who knew how long, he couldn’t stop worrying. He fidgeted with the cheap pilgrimage kit he’d bought at Atlanta. A map of the United States, a plastic ruler, a tiny pencil and a miserable looking compass that didn’t seem to point in the same direction if he shook it a bit. It was all he could afford, since the bus ticket from Madison to Atlanta, then Atlanta to… wherever, took most of his “borrowed” money.

That was another thing. His parents would be so mad when they noticed he took from his savings account. That money was supposed to go to his skating class- or more recently, his hockey equipment.

Maybe he could have asked. Maybe they’d understood, and offered more, and Coach would have lent him his own brass compass, the one inherited from his own father, the one he used to follow the pull until he found his own soulmate. Maybe his mother would have kissed him on the forehead and maybe she’d have offered to ride with him wherever the pull led him- North, North, always North…

But maybe not.

It wasn’t something Eric wanted to risk. The steadiness of the pull had stopped, for just a minute, maybe more, but that was enough to change Eric’s own life. He had someone, somewhere, whose soul was compatible with his- who was maybe a lover, a friend- and that someone’s life had blinked.

He held back his nervous tears, fidgeted with the compass once more.

(more under the cut)

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they call her maid maleen

for the first few trembling years of her life, she is a princess. she is the daughter to the king, born of his beloved wife and of her visage. her dark eyes have the appearance of a smoky quarts and her mother carefully twists her mass of black hair into a hundred small braids down her back. she is a beautiful, quiet child, and for a while all is well. they call her princess maleen.

then her mother dies. it seems as if the king is determined to bury his love for his daughter along with his queen. he moves her to a different wing of the castle, and refuses to see her. her tutors are let go, and the nobles’ children are no longer allowed to play with her. only the maids look after her now.

the king remarries. the new queen gives birth to a son, and maleen is forgotten completely, banished from a home she still resides in and a life she can now only watch unfold.

the maids take care of her, braid her hair and kiss the blisters on her fingers, teach her to scrub at porcelain and polish silver, to clean a fireplace and mop polished marble floors.

they call her maid maleen.

~

the king has a son by his new wife, and then a daughter. they are pale and fair-haired like their mother, with only their dark eyes to show they are the king’s children. but they inherit none of their parents’ beauty, have faces that don’t look quite right and bodies that get stuck between gangly and chubby and never settle into one or the other. princess gisella and prince jan are privately regarded as unfortunate products of a lovely union.

maid maleen spends long hours working, and has neither the time nor funds for creams to soften her skin or oils to care for her hair, has never used face powder or lip color.

maid maleen is twenty three years old, and the most beautiful woman in the kingdom.

her braids are wrapped carefully atop her head, but when she lets them loose they hang past her hips. her dark skin is made even darker thanks to long hours working in the palace garden, and her eyes have never lost that same curious light. she walks straight and strong, years of hard labor giving her muscles and definition to her body that she never would have had as a princess. boys and girls give her long, considering looks and flirtatious smiles, and nobles have to double-take when she passes them by.

no one speaks of it anymore. but maid maleen looks ever more like her beautiful late mother, has the same eyes as her father, and dressing in ill-fitting cast offs and running her ragged can’t hide the truth.

maid maleen is the king’s daughter.

she has accepted her life as a maid in the palace she was one day set to inherit, and tries to see it as a gift. she sleeps with who she likes, may marry whichever of the charming boys from the city who’s smile she likes best. in the maids who raised her she has more mothers than she has fingers, and perhaps she longs for the days when she was a small princess, when she was the apple of her parents’ eye, when the whole of their nation was to be hers to inherit.

but then the blacksmith’s daughter lets her hands linger a little too long on her wrists, and maleen knows that she won’t be sleeping alone tonight. there are some things that worth more to her than a throne she was born to. she doesn’t miss the little girl she used to be.

until.

tensions have always run high between their kingdom and the neighboring one – too many squabbles over borders, over trade agreements, over patrols, over anything and everything the kings can find a reason to be upset about, it seems like. so when prince wolfgang is sent over, the whole palace is abuzz. the prince seems determined to inherit a peaceful land, and is coming over to talk with the king to do it.

maleen does not care for princes. nor for nobles of any rank, in fact. she remembers how they turned on her, she sees the small acts of pettiness and cruelty they thoughtlessly inflict on their servants, and she wants nothing to do with it. commoners may not be as educated as nobles, may not have as many objects to call their own, but maleen finds she prefers their company to that of lords. she’s uninterested in this prince, which is perhaps why she’s the one that gets sent to his rooms. her moms can trust that she at least won’t fawn over him.

“sir wolfgang,” she murmurs, pushing open his door and giving a low curtsy, keeping her eyes trained on his mud covered boots. “is there anything you require?”

silence. she can only stay bent in a curtsey so long before she loses patience. she’s almost given up on him, is about to cut her losses and call it a night when he says, hesitant, “queen sabine?”

her mother’s name is punch to her gut, and her head snaps up at the sound of it, the rolling fire of her temper bubbling just below her skin. “i am maid maleen,” she snaps, then tacks on “your highness,” after a moment’s consideration.

his cloak is half unbuttoned as he stares at her with a slack mouth. she supposes he would not look unhandsome if he were not currently doing his best to imitate a frog. he appears to be only a handful of years older than she is, and if she were not furious she would be impressed that he remembers her mother well enough to see sabine in her.

“maleen,” he repeats, and for a moment she wonders if he will recognize her as well, but he only says, “my apologies. if you would help me with my cloak, i would be much obliged.”

she’s instantly suspicious. she’s met nice nobles before, ones that were considerate and remembered her name and thanked her when she brought them wine. but she’s never met a nice prince before – they’re always of the worst sort. “yes, your highness,” she says, and the cloak is soaked through and clinging, it’s no wonder he’s struggling with it. once she’s gotten it off she hangs it to dry, then goes back to him. she slaps away his numb, struggling fingers and undoes the rest of the buckles and loops of his overly complicated clothing. she’s gotten down him down to an undershirt and pants when his hands grab hers. she blinks and looks up. he has freckles dusting across his nose.

“this is inappropriate,” he says, but honestly she’s stripped a lot of nobles, it wasn’t weird until he took her hands and looked at her like no one’s ever looked at her before.

“yes, your highness,” she agrees, and takes a step back. she places his clothes in front of a fire, curtsies, and leaves. she can feel the weight of his gaze on her all the way back to her room.

wolfgang continues his diplomatic agenda, having long meetings with the royal family. after, maleen goes and tends to him, setting out his food and taking care of his clothes, straightening up any mess that he’s made. at first he’s quiet, and he just watches her, but he quickly discovers that maleen has opinions and thoughts and isn’t afraid to share them. soon they’re debating the finer points of trade routes and arguing the effectiveness of a sliding tax scale, and maleen comes to cherish the evenings she spends with the prince, likes the way he speaks to her and looks at her, likes the shape of his smile.

weeks in she enters his room, dinner steaming in her hands and eager to continue their conversation about state funded orphanages versus a state funded foster system. he’s pacing and tense, shoulder stiff. “wolfgang,” she sets down the food and wipes her hands on her apron, “is something wrong?”

“is it true?” he asks, and he’s not looking at her. he’s always looked at her before.

“is what true?” she flinches away from his coldness, is already preparing to retreat and hide and beg someone else to watch over him.

he turns to her, and she’s baffled by the mixture of hope and anger on his face. “are you the king’s daughter? are you princess maleen?”

she takes a step back, “i am maid maleen.”

“please,” he follows her as she steps away from him, and her back hits the wall. he stops when he’s almost close enough to touch. “my father sent me here with the goal to seal our new treaty with a marriage. he expects me to marry princess gisella. but if you are the daughter of the king – then he will allow me to marry you instead!”

“who says i want to marry you?” she retorts, but he gets on bended knee and she freezes.

he holds a hand for her own, and against every bit of logic, she gives it to him. “maleen, i’ve never felt this way about anyone. i was willing enough to enter a loveless marriage before i knew what true love is, but now i do, and i can’t go back. marry me.”

she wants to. she thinks she loves him. she hadn’t been planning to fall in love with anyone. “i am the king’s daughter,” she tells him, “but i am no princess. i haven’t been a princess in a long time.”

he brings her hand to his mouth so he can kiss each one of her knuckles, “then we’ll have to change that.”

~

wolfgang goes to the king to make his case, to return maleen to her birthright and allow her to marry him.

it goes even worse than maleen had feared.

her father is furious. he’s so angry at the audacity of this request that prince wolfgang is thrown from the kingdom. so incensed is he, that guards drag maleen from her bed in the middle of the night and throw her into a tower. the door closes shut behind them, and she bangs on it and screams but no one comes for her.

there are no windows, and only one door with a sliding metal grate in the bottom. she’s high in the tower, she thinks, from the number of steps she’d been forced to climb, but she stands on a dirt floor. the room contains only the bare minimum needed for survival, and nothing more.

once a week food is slid through the slot in the door. she has to be careful, because if she eats it too fast they will not provide more, she will just starve. days turn to weeks turn to months, and she despairs of ever being let out of this tower. months turn to years, and she gives up hope entirely of leaving this tower. she considers refusing to eat, killing herself slowly through starvation, because death is preferable to life locked in this tower.

one night there’s a scuffle, and shouting, and for the first time since she was shoved inside the door opens. there’s a guard standing there, and princess gisella tentatively steps inside. “maid ma – i mean, maleen?”

maleen stares. this is the first time she’s seen another person in years, and suddenly for all the screaming she’d done she can’t find her voice. gisella takes another cautious step forward, “maleen, please – we don’t have much time.” she holds out her hand, “come with me.”

gisella is sixteen now. although she’ll never be a great beauty, she’s grown into many of the features that she was once mocked for. “where?” she asks, but takes gisella’s hand and lets her lead them down the twisting staircase. anyplace is better than the tower.

“i’m to be married in a week’s time to prince wolfgang.” maleen feels a sharp pain go through her chest. had wolfgang forgotten her? their farce of a romance was such a quick, shallow thing. she was a fool to fall for it in the first place. “i’m not going to show up. you are.”

she stares, “what?”

“wolfgang started a war over father locking you in the tower,” she explains, “but eventually it got to a point where neither could justify it, so our father and wolfgang’s decided our union would mean peace between our countries, as intended. but i don’t want to marry prince wolfgang, and he does not want to marry me.”

“i don’t understand,” she hadn’t paid much attention to the girl when they were in the palace together, and she’s regretting that now.

they finally reach the end of the tower. it’s the first time she’s breathed fresh air in years. she tries not to get distracted by it, and instead focuses on the carriage to her left, and the pure black mare laden like a pack mule on her right. “i’m leaving,” gisella says, “i don’t want to be wolfgang’s bride because i want to be klaus’s,” the guard smiles, and he must be klaus, the princess is rejecting a prince to run away with a commoner. “there’s a map and everything you need in the saddlebags. the wedding dress is waiting for you at the castle. no one will know you’re not me until wolfgang unveils you, and by then it will be too late. he will marry you, and i will be gone.”

“why are you doing this?” she asks.

gisella shrugs, “you’re my sister, and father is an idiot. i want you to be happy, and i want wolfgang to be happy, and i want to be happy too. this way we all get what we want. our brother will be waiting for you in wolfgang’s castle. he’ll help you.”

maleen is speechless. gisella grabs her in a quick hug – the only one they’ve ever shared – and then goes to the carriage with klaus trailing behind her. “i’ll see you again, princess maleen!”

she doesn’t have time for tears. she gets on the mare, and rides for the palace of the neighboring land.

~

she makes it just in time. she sneaks into the castle the night before the wedding, ducking around servants until she find her way to jan’s door. she knocks, tentative, wondering if this was a mistake and all one elaborate trap. but the door opens and his face slackens in relief, “finally!” he pulls her inside, and sits her down. there’s lukewarm water waiting for her so she can clean herself, and jan stands with his back to her the whole time, outlining the wedding and how it will go so she knows what to expect the next day. “father isn’t here,” he assures her, “he didn’t want to leave the kingdom, so i’m here in his stead.”

“won’t you miss your sister?” maleen finishes washing and wraps herself in a soft blanket.

“when i am king, gisella will return,” he says confidently, “she will come home and bring klaus, and you will rule here with wolfgang, and all will be well. our countries shall be great allies when it is me and wolfgang on the throne.”

he’s only a year older than gisella, just seventeen, and maleen feels oddly old next to them, feels old next to these children who know what they want and take it and don’t let anything stand in their way.

“we need to get your hair rebraided,” he says, “you should look perfect tomorrow. it’s your wedding day.”

she stares, aghast. “that will take all night!”

“i’ve brought help,” he says, and sends a servant down the hall. the servant returns with a half dozen of the maids who raised her, and who crowd forward and hug her and kiss her cheeks and say how much they’ve missed her. princess or not, bride or not, to them she will always be their little maid maleen.

~

it’s clear gisella picked her wedding dress with maleen in mind. it fits her for one thing, and is clinging and heavy, and it must have looked awful on gisella, but on her it’s perfect. her dress is accompanied by white silk gloves and a thick veil so that no one can see her, so that no one will know she’s not the daughter of the king they’re expecting to be there.

wolfgang is at the end of the aisle, looking like he’s going to an execution, and it takes more self control than maleen was anticipating not to go running to him. she turns to him, and he lifts her veil. he sees her and freezes, mouth sliding open. she winks at him, because they just need to keep it together until they’re married, he just has to keep his cool for a few minutes and they’ll have won it all. wolfgang closes his mouth and says nothing about how this is clearly not the bride he was supposed to marry. they turn so none of the guests can see them, and the priest gives maleen a confused look, but with a glare from wolfgang he continues on with the ceremony as if nothing is out of place.

“you may now kiss the bride,” the priest says, after what seems like an eternity.

wolfgang grabs her about the waist, dips her, and kisses her soundly on the mouth. her veil falls off and she can hear the horrified and shocked gasps of the guests, and under that jan’s laughter. when they break apart, foreheads still pressed together, she whispers, “hello, prince wolfgang.”

he kisses her again, quick and sweet, and does nothing at all to disguise the joy in his face. “hello, princess maleen.”

and they all lived happily ever after.


read more retold fairytales here

To be foolish

Title: To be foolish

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker

Summary: Y/N has lived next to Peter since the 3rd grade and since has fallen hard for him, but Y/N doesn’t know he’s fallen just as hard.

Word count: 1,761

Songs: Slow Burn by Autograf

AN: So here’s part 2 of To be young! this part feels a little slow to me but I’m really excited about making the next part, so just bare with me lol. I hope you guys enjoy this part!

Heres Part 1: To be young

tagged@emrysaaryn@bubbles2428@dreaxs@marauder-lover@purecout-ure@therealme13posts , @tomllholland , @manyfandomstohandle

Originally posted by tomhollanderr



Its been about a week since Liz’s party happened and during that time Peter had completely started ignoring you, every time you sat by Peter he would get up and leave. In gym Ned and him started doing their stretches on the furthest part of the gym from you.

You were hurt. More then hurt actually, you felt broken. The guy of your dreams almost kissed you and now you could feel he regretted it, a lot. Hell he could barley even stand looking at you. Michelle finally spoke kicking you out of your horrid thoughts “Hey Y/N how ya holding up?” You felt her hand slowly rub your back in an attempt to comfort you. “Well MJ not very well, I’ve liked peter ever since he moved into that stupid apartment and when i finally got the chance to kiss him, he left me..” you paused looking up from the library table you’ve recently started coming to to seek comfort in being alone, “and he regrets it, he regrets trying to kiss me and won’t even do as much as give me the time of day.” Michelle’s hand dropped from your back and found their way onto your face and turned you to look at her. “Listen Y/N, maybe Peter has an explanation for all this.” She looked deep into your eyes feeling the sadness radiate off of you.

“Just maybe try talking to him?” she suggested pulling her hand away from your face. You sighed, she’s right i need to just woman up and talk to him instead of treating him like he is me. I need to be the mature one in this situation. You grabbed your books off of the table and made your way out of the library and towards Peters locker, Its almost the end of 6th period, the last period of the day.

The bell rang right as you made it to Peters locker and waited silently to confront the boy who made you feel broken, but he never came.

“Uh hey Ned?” you asked when you passed by him on your way to debate club, tired of waiting. Ned shut his locker and mad his way over to you with a smile on his face “Yeah whats up Y/N?” you felt a sick feeling over come you before asking whats on your mind, “Have yo-you seen Pete-Peter anywhere?” You stuttered out your question, averting your eyes from Ned’s suddenly feeling a gross kind of embarrassed over run your feeling of sickness. “No, actually i haven’t seen him since gym.” Ned replied as you two began to walk the same way towards the debate club. “Maybe he’ll be at the debate meeting today.” Ned said with a happy glint in his eyes, “How come you’re looking for him?” your heart drops into your stomach trying to think of something to say other than the truth, “We uh-we’re doing a project in chemistry together and i haven’t been able to get ahold of him.” You lie with a sick smile on your face, the lie seeming to convince Ned as you two walked through the doors of the gym to your now daily debate club meeting.

“Hey you two, hurry up and take your seats.” Liz spoke gleefully with a smile on her face before going back to asking questions to the 4 people sitting at tables on the small school stage for nationals that happen in 2 days.

You were getting settled into your seat next to MJ at the front table when you heard the door open to the small theater room open. You looked up from pulling your binder out of your backpack when you caught eyes with the beautiful chocolate ones that were so intimate with you just a week ago.

His gaze averted from yours making you feel guilty for even meeting his eyes in the first place. “Mr. Harrington, I need you to let me go to nationals.” Peter rushed his sentence out. You let out a small laugh you were trying to keep in. Peters head snapped over in your direction and the smile on your face grew wider and your laugh grew louder at his unexpected look. Not even 2 days have passed since Peter said he wasn’t going to nationals and now he wants to? “Well i don’t know whats up with Y/N but you can’t just show up at the last meeting before nationals and expect to be put back on the team” Flash spits confidently at Peter “Well actually Mr. Parker..” Mr. Harrington shot Flash the “shut up” look with his eyebrows raised “Yes you can, Flash can you grab Peters jacket out of my office desk please.” Mr. Harrington flashed a smile at Flash.

“Peters coming to nationals now?” Michelle lowly whispered just barely audible for you to hear, “this should be interesting.” She smiled down at her notebook as she began drawing god knows what.  


“Alright everyone needs to behave and no sneaking out after the curfew I’ve set, ten o'clock.” Mr. Harrington lectured you and the group of 10 teenagers. Liz, Michelle and you grab your key cards from the front desk and make your way up to your shared room with them. After getting settled in you decided to relax and watch some tv.

“Hey..” your attention got jerked away from the tv when it turned off suddenly “how about we go to the pool?” You looked over to see Liz gleefully smiling at you and Michelle with her bathing suit on. “Now?” you asked getting up off the bed you were sitting on “it’s 10:30 and isn’t the pool closed?” Liz slipped on her flip-flops “No it doesn’t close till 11:30 and Mr. Harrington does have to know, Plus being rebellious is good for moral…” she paused looking between Michelle and you “so hurry up and get your bathing suits on while I go tell the others.” you quickly agree with her and grab your suit out of your draw of the dresser.

“Michelle, you gonna come?” you ask from the bathroom while putting on your swimsuit on “No, I’m good here with the tv.” she replied as she plopped back down on the bed. You shoved your dirty clothes into your suitcase “Well you’ll just miss out on all the fun!” you called out leaving the room and making your way to the pool.

the pool is on the same floor as your shared room so all you have to do is walk down a few hallways, you make a round around the 2nd to last corner when you collide with something, or someone.

You fall back on your butt letting out a few mumbles of cuss words, “Oh god I’m so sorry, that was my-” The person stops when your eyes meet the familiar chocolate ombré orbs, this moment feeling more intimate than intended, you break your eyes away staring at the floor and taking peters now stretched out hand to help you up.

“Ok so-” a voice interrupts the moment you and Peter were having, “oh hey guys!” The smile of Liz comes into your view, “Hey Liz.” Peter coughs and you see a pink shade take over his face, you lowly scoff and roll eyes taking your hand slowly from Peters. “Are you coming to the pool too Peter?” Liz asks as everyone passes by the three of you “I wasn’t planning on it.” He laughs slightly catching your eyes only to look back to Liz just as you were about to say something you might’ve regretted Liz spoke, “Well you should, so hurry up and get your trunks on!” She whisper shouted the last part of her comment and the same pink shade that took over peters face took over hers.

You felt uncomfortable, like you were intruding on a private moment. “Please, its gonna be like a good luck charm for us!” She spoke as she walked away towards everyone else. Peter turned his attention back to you “You’re going swimming i’m guessing?” He scratched the back of his neck, looking everywhere but your eyes “well you heard Liz, it’s gonna be our good luck charm.” You sarcastically spoke trying to meet Peters eyes with your Y/E/C ones just once.

“Look could we talk about what happened last-” Peters eyes finally caught yours taking you off guard and causing you to choke on your words, the feeling of be unwanted right here in this moment overran your body making you slouch slightly “Look Y/N…” he paused as his phone buzzed in his pocket “I really have to go, could we talk later?” He sighed running his hands through his soft, fluffy brown hair. “Uh sure.” You whispered breaking eye contact with Peter and looking at the floor, Peter sighed once more before walking away “just- just please don’t forget!” You called to him as he turned the corner and out of your sight.

You started making your way to the pool again thinking about what just happened, did Peter even really want to talk? He hasn’t wanted to talk to me at all this past week so maybe he really did regret what could have happened that night. You reached the door to the pool and slid your keycard through the small slot and the door clicked open. You slapped your card down on one of the small tables “there you are!” Flash shouted from in the pool, “I was starting to think you ditched us for penis.” He laughed making your mood even worse than it already was. “Whatever Flash.” You slipped into the pool and just floated on your back looking up at the ceiling with a couple of windows at the top, just admiring the stars and wishing how you could just be one right now instead of having to deal with all of this .. drama? no that’s not the right word for it, but I’m not sure what is maybe- your thoughts get cut off when your eyes meet the ones you saw in the hallway not even 5 minutes ago.

“Peter?” You whisper so quiet no one else hears you, you see Peters eyes widen and then he disappears. You stop and stand on your feet in the small hotel pool still staring up at the window. What is he doing on the roof? Why was he staring at me?

You get out of the pool and grab a designated towel from a small rack in the corner of the room and sit down at a lawn chair.

What is going on?

The First Time With Jeon Jungkook

Originally posted by jkguks

Genre : Fluff, romance,comedy,implicit language & sexual innuendos 
Pairing:Jungkook x reader
Length: 13002 words
Summary : This is a series based on all of your first times with jungkook, from your childhood till adulthood

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7

Tell me your thoughts in the comments and ask box :)


THE FIRST TIME YOU WERE SENIORS IN HIGH SCHOOL

“Jungkookie” you raised a seductive brow as you slowly pulled onto his uniform’s tie

“What’s up?” his back was pressed against the wall, questioning your little acts

“Isn’t this uniform a little too stuffy?” you commented “This tie seems to be suffocating you”

“I don’t know…” he pulls your waist closer as he eyed your lips hungrily “Maybe it is?”

“What should we do about this, then?” you lift your head to lock eyes with him

“I don’t know, you tell me” Jungkook trails his fingers dangerously close to your skirt

Jungkook groaned as the vibrations of his phone were continuously heard on his night table. The so-called lazy boy wasn’t catching a single break since senior year began. His obligations and future goals were continuously roaming inside his victimized brain. So many things piling up, waiting for him to achieve them, yet the boy was taking his sweet time, sleeping under the soft blankets of love and pulling them closer against his sturdy body.

“Three more minutes mom” He muttered in his sleep

The phone wasn’t vibrating this time but it started ringing which meant that he had an oncoming call. The boy sat up and kicked his blanket in a fury as he hated being interrupted in his sleeping activities. He was having the best dream in a while yet someone had to interrupt his perfect fictional fantasy of getting it on with his long time crush.

He growls before burying his face back onto his pillow as his long fingers reached the electronical device to answer the call. It didn’t take long before he gave a reply that made the recipient’s heart drop and soul’s leave from their body. In fact, Kim Taehyung was always bound to get tangled in a mess when it came to his best friend Jungkook.

“KIM TAEHYUNG, YOU SON OF A DUMB FUCKIDY FUCKIDIDOO, WHAT’S UP?” Jungkook ran a hand through his hair in frustration

“Well damn, seems like someone is not in the mood to talk to me” Taehyung felt taken aback “and what was it? Fuckidy-doo? The fuck is that? You may think you’re being swag right now, but fuckididoo is not happening, just like fetch never happened”

“Look here, you stylish looking brat” Jungkook growled on the other side before clenching his fist “You just ruined the most amazing dream I ever had in my entire life” Jungkook faked a sob

“Did you just call me a brat? I was born before your ass even got out of the oven” Taehyung argued back “What was your dream?! Was it spicy~~~~” Taehyung squealed on the other line

“There’s no way I’m telling you. I’m keeping it to myself so that it actually becomes real” Jungkook rolled his eyes before adding “Sorry to break it out to you but you’re a jinx, Kim Taehyung”

“I’m a jinx? Yeah, you definitely had some sort of kinky dream” Taehyung chuckled “Who was the chick this time? Selena Gomez? Oh!!! Was it Ariana Grande?  You have a thing for brunette girls these days”

“I don’t have a thing for brunette girls, what are you saying? When did I ever say that…” he sighed before ruffling his hair

Jungkook had a type for the past few months and it always changed a few weeks in and out. He was smitten over blonde girls with slim bodies barely three months ago and now he found his new obsession with curvy brunettes. They apparently seemed like the kind of girls who’d teach him a thing or two. All of this was a misconception and even if Jungkook did had a preference for certain hair colors, he never had the guts to ever approach a girl or to stutter a single word if that girl in question wasn’t you. 

Truth had it that Jeon Jungkook was only comfortable around you. He was used to your presence, your scent, your hair color, your clinginess and your comments. Having a type was a thing, but Jungkook tried getting his mind off of you for the past two years, which is why he fell into an ideal type abyss. He didn’t even had an ideal type to begin with , he just wanted to have reason as to why he wouldn’t have to ever develop deeper feelings for you.

“Ayyy…you thought I’d fall for that?” Taehyung shot on the other line “It was definitely a steamy dream. Spill the bean and share the goods with me”

“I dreamt of cows and sheeps running in a field! Happy now?” Jungkook replied

“The fuck? Isn’t that a conception dream? “Taehyung half shouted “Bro, who the fuck have you knocked up? DID YOU MAKE SOMEONE PREGNANT?!”

Keep reading

Petname Babygirl II pt.1

yoongi x reader

genre: smut, dom!yoongi, sugardaddy!yoongi

word count: 7.3k


Sleeping with some random guy was one thing. But realizing that he is your boss was a disaster until he offers you something tempting you cannot reject.

Originally posted by sugamysavagebaby

Keep reading

Just a little something…

He’d left you with a fight unfinished at home. He had to be at the studio and he didn’t have the time to finish the argument. He knew you were upset and he hated to leave you with the tears in your eyes, but he knew there was nothing he was going to be able to say in that moment to fix anything.

He needed to go. He needed space and he knew he was going to the one place he could clear his head. He didn’t want to say anything he’d regret, so he left you standing there in the middle of the kitchen.

But now that he’s standing there and he’s singing the words that you put in his heart with your eyes and your kisses and the way you curled into him at night, he finds them harder to sing than ever before.

He opens his mouth, but his throat gets tight and all he can think of is the words he *should have* said. His eyes fall to the floor and all he sees is your bottom lip quivering and the tears welling in your eyes. The eyes that silently pleaded with him to stay. “Stay and talk to me…”. All he can hear is the quiet, choked out sobs he could hear as he walked out the door, followed by the pounding in his chest as he realized what he’d done.

He’d done the one thing you both promised you’d never do. He’d walked away. He’d walked away and left you to wonder what the outcome would be. He’d left you to wonder if *you* were enough, if *love* was enough.

He was the last to realize that he’d stopped singing. The last to realize that the words he’d poured out on to the paper in front of him wouldn’t come out. The last to realize that he’d already pulled his keys from his pocket and was half way out the door as he heard his name being called out to stop him.

He could have stopped. He could have kept singing, kept playing, kept writing. But as much as those words and melodies meant when he wrote them, he knew if he didn’t go home and fix what he broke, they’d never mean the same again.

You heard the door open and close. You heard his boots carry him up the stairs and into your room. You felt the bed dip as his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you to him. His forehead pressed to yours as he whispered quiet “I’m sorry"s against your lips. His fingers swiped gently at your tear stained cheeks and he waited. He waited for you to say something. Anything.

He didn’t realize he hadn’t taken a breath until he felt you nuzzle into his neck and your arms wrap around to grip his back. “You left…” you said quietly.

He drew in a jagged breath and you felt him nod slowly against your cheek. He was too ashamed to answer aloud.

You knew it wasn’t like him. You knew he’d never left before. Neither had you. It was a promise you’d made when you knew the feelings you felt had meant more than the butterflies in your tummy and the dizziness in your head. When the “I love you’s” fell from your lips like laughs from a toddler. How the way that his eyes fell on you could steal the oxygen from your lungs. You’d promised each other.

He never broke promises and you could feel his heart pounding against your chest as he awaited the pain and uncertainty he felt he deserved. The same things he left you with a few hours earlier. But as hurt as you were, you knew he’d never break a promise again. So, in that moment, you made a silent one to yourself. You promised not to hold this against him. Love meant forgiveness, and right then, as you felt his tears fall to your hair, love was all you could feel.

“Don’t do it again.”

His head lifted from its place atop yours to look you in the eyes and before another “I’m sorry” could leave his lips, your mouth silenced his with a kiss that let him know you no longer needed it.

Yes, he’d left. But he came back, and while you laid there wrapped up in each other, that was all the promise you needed.

Older brother Namjoon + rest of BTS scolds you PT.11

BTS x Reader

Genre: Angst

Namjoon’s Sister AU

[PT.1] [PT.2] [PT.3][PT.4][PT.5] [PT.6] [PT.7] [PT.8] [PT.9] [PT.10] [PT.11] [PT.12] [PT.13]


Originally posted by joonjuly

Y/N’s p.o.v

It was a lie. Saying that I didn’t need him anymore was a complete lie. I wanted to have my older brother around. I wanted him to protect me like the knight in shining armour he once was. But having me around him is probably making his life more difficult, and he doesn’t need that. He doesn’t need his annoying younger sister who does nothing but cause trouble. He doesn’t need, me.

We stood there in silent. I still had tears cascading down my face. He looked at me, his eyes welling up with tears too. What have I done? It was never my intention to make him cry. 

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Break a Little - Part One

Summary: You’re an Alpha Female, and that means your entire life you’ve been an outcast, an abomination. It’s been so long you don’t remember what it is like not to feel raw, angry and hurt. You’re aggressive, a little wild, and don’t play well with others. So when your only friend’s brother Dean calls and says Sam is missing, you are hesitant to work with him. After all, you have always been alone.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Characters: Alpha!Reader, Beta!Sam, ??!Dean

Pairings: Alpha!Reader x ??!Dean

Word Count: 1700

Warnings: language, fighting, self hate, a/b/o dynamics, no smut yet but there will be some eventually ;)

A/N: This is my first A/B/O fic and I would like it to be a small series. 

You sit at the bar, consumed in your own little world. The whiskey you sip on is just fuel, fuel for how much you hate everything, hate what you are, who you are, how you hate the world around you.

It’s after a hunt, and just like every single damn time the violence has you on edge, running on adrenaline and nothing can fix it, nothing ever will. But the hunts themselves are good for you, they help focus that rage that is always there.

“Hey gorgeous,” some asshole sits beside you, and you wind him first, a fucking alpha.

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Don’t Flirt With Him (M)

Originally posted by ciutae

Pairing: Jimin x reader (feat. Sungwoon from Hotshot)
Genre: smut with a fluffy end
Word count: 3.2k
Content: dom!jimin, slight spanking

Description: No strings attached? Turns out differently as Jimin showed you jealousy for the first time at a party.


The vodka burned straight down your throat as you took the shot, it being the third one that night already. For the time being there, you were looking around for Jimin since he was the one who invited you to his party in the first place. So why wasn’t he there?

Oh. Yeah, he’s probably flirting with other girls again, you thought and sighed out loud, your hand already reaching for the vodka to sip yourself another shot.

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