Surprisingly, it was easy for you
to lie yourself and to everyone around you. Flashing a smile anytime someone
around you asked you how you were doing. The layers of concealer under your
eyelids hiding more than the lack of sleep. You tried to keep yourself busying,
burying yourself under piles of books and notes to occupy your mind with
anything but Jungkook and how he wrinkled his nose when he smiled.
In a very
strange way you found solace in the amount of schoolwork that was piling up in
the pages of your planner. Exams, research papers, and presentations were
keeping you out of the house and inside the walls of the library. You were
regretting your schedule for this semester, but with the MCAT looming you
couldn’t afford to take any risks. Medical school was the light at the end of
the tunnel, and not even a bunny toothed boy was enough to keep you distracted.
however, had a problem with the fact that you should probably start paying rent
to the librarian. He missed you, constantly sending you reminders to eat and
drink water during the hours you were studying. You had regretted the night you
told him that you hadn’t eaten since 7 in the morning and 45 minutes later a
freckled teenager came into the library with the largest bag of Chinese takeout
you had ever seen. And your name was scribbled on the front.
Y/N 9:35 PM: Hobi, I appreciate the thought but can you please stop
sending me food while I am in the library.
Hoseok 9: 47 PM: I’ll stop sending you food when you actually sleep
in your bed, for once
you throw your phone back down on the table. He had a point. You hadn’t slept
underneath sheets in weeks. By the time you got home from school you were too
tired to make it your bedroom. Every morning waking up regretting the fact that
you had decided to buy the lumpiest couch known to man. You knew that this
wouldn’t last. That eventually you wouldn’t be able to hide behind the excuses
of academics to avoid having a life. You were going to burn out.
But two days later you found
yourself in the same position.
I see you, Nonny, sneaking multiple asks into one :P I do like these types of fics tho. :P
anonymous said: Hii! Do you know any sterek fics where one of them or both are deaf,
blind, or can’t speak? If you could put a mix of them in there that
would be great (: thank you so much your amazing !
This list fills your ask too, but also check out our mute!Stiles tag for those fics (cause this post is already kinda crazy long, lol).
(4,432 I Teen I Complete) *sterek, human au, doctor!stiles
He hasn’t always been deaf.
Although, sometimes, he wishes he was. Mainly because he knows what he’s missing. He remembers what the rustle of the wind in the trees sounds like, remembers what kids playing in the playground sounded like, what laughter sounded like.
Derek became deaf from the fire that took his family long ago, and has refused to speak since. But when he is forced to speak in the court case of the woman who betrayed him long ago, he begrudgingly accepts the help of a newly graduated speech pathologist. Stiles, however, is about to teach a whole lot more.
Derek inspected the paper with curiosity. It was a poster that seemed to be advertising a dancing event. There was a dancer in the middle, dressed in ballet clothes, body toned and hard, but the movement that was captured screamed smooth and melodic even from the picture.
I don’t understand. He signed with a frown.
It’s an invitation. I am one of the dancers in the group and I would like it if you came. Stiles replied nervously.
When they’re sixteen they steal some of Stiles’ dad’s alcohol. They’re a little tipsy when Stiles starts whining about how he’s still never kissed anyone. He makes a face and signs, “I’m sixteen, Scott. This is ridiculous. I’m gonna wither up and die before I ever kiss anyone.” His signing is a little loose and sloppy from the alcohol, and when he finishes he collapses backward on the bed, sighing like the world is crumbling around him.
Scott leans over him, rolls his eyes, and signs, “I’ll kiss you if it means you’ll shut up about it.”
(6,241 I Mature I Complete) *sterek, model!stiles, nerd!derek, alive hale family
Stiles Stilinski, also known as the most famous model any underwear company has. He’s on billboards, magazines, covers of packaging. Anything and all. Most people say he’s popular just because he’s gay, others say it’s because he’s hot, or because he’s deaf. His life is busy and he works a lot, but it all changes when he meets Derek, a local man who treats him like a normal person.
(Previously known as ‘Really? That’s how you want to play?’)
(7,761 I Mature I Complete) *sterek, proposals, weddings
Sheriff Stilinski has been waiting for this day for a long time. As he watches his visitor walking up the path, he thinks about everything that’s happened in the past year and his fingers twitch for his gun. But he can’t do that; he can’t shoot this man, as much as he might like to sometimes. Maybe he can go one worse, though.
Stiles nodded and smiled again, his teeth flashing brightly and he signed something again, before looking frustrated with himself.
“You’re welcome,” Derek told him, feeling a wave of relief when Stiles’ face brightened. That would’ve been awkward if Stiles hadn’t been trying to say thank you.
“I had a really good time, so yeah. I’m glad you came with me,” he said, feeling his face grow hot. Derek wasn’t usually like this. He wasn’t confident. Sure, he had the looks and he could flirt shamelessly when he got hit on, but he always got shy around the people he genuinely liked, not that there was too many of those.
But Stiles didn’t let him dwell on that. He gripped Derek’s arm, grinned cheekily and pointed at himself before lifting two fingers. It took a while for Derek to get it but when he did, he couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across his face.
(28,313 I General I Complete) *sterek, mates, kidnapped stiles
Alone, Stiles could feel the tiredness start to run through his body, the cuts on his body aching and other places hurting which made him wonder how they were hurting before he blinked a few times, eyes lifting towards the windows and the grey sky, Stiles hoped that the pack would find him. Slumping down in to the bonds, Stiles dropped his chin to his chest as tears gathered in his eyes, he felt scared for the first time since the car accident and he hated the fact that he couldn’t hear for anything which could creep up on him, hated that he couldn’t protect himself, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, Stiles tried to keep the tears away as he finally let the tiredness wash over him.
(132,553 I Explicit I Complete) *sterek, human au, sick!stiles, hurt!stiles, first time
Monday dawned fresh and cool and with a lack of Stilinski.
The buzz in the school changed over the week, once Derek started paying attention to it. No longer was the student body talking about where the students were going on vacation, or lack thereof for the more middle-class populace. They were bandying about a different series of words instead.
Stiles could remeber the last thing he saw, it wasn’t the car that was about to hit him it was Derek Hale. Stiles is now Legally blind hiding his secret from his friends for Three years now their back and his life is turned upside down and all he can think about is Derek.
(13,229 I Mature I WIP) *steter, historical au, medieval au, nobleman!peter, magic!stiles
Peter is sick of court and the drama it entails. His sister is creating a life for her and her children in a new and promising land that Peter finds cold and horrid. Soon he is dragged into something much bigger than himself and the usual royal court happenings. This boy he thinks he failed to keep from harm may not be safe but he is alive.
Derek Hale is convinced he can protect his pack from anything. Kanimas, other packs, even the supernatural that remain myths (like demons and the such), but an event hits him like a punch to the gut to remind him that the things he can’t protect his pack from are the everyday horrors in which life makes us her bitch. [Blind!Stiles]
An AU ‘verse in which Stiles is born blind and is Derek’s mate. The rest of the world is just going to have to adjust accordingly because if you think that’s going to stop the boy who runs with wolves, you are horrendously mistaken.
(83,738 I Explicit I Complete) *sterek, marine!derek, ptsd!derek, human au
Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.
Derek and his adopted daughter move to Beacon Hills to try and start up a normal life. They meet Stiles in a park with his service/seeing-eye dog and while Malia bonds with the dog, Derek ends up bonding with Stiles.
When Derek loses his sight and hearing saving Scott from an attack, the
Stilinski’s take him in. As nurse and patient Stiles and Derek grow
closer, but what will happen when Derek gets better? Will Stiles be
left with a broken heart?
There is a certain kind of tiredness we sometimes feel. Not a physical tiredness, but a mental one. One that is beckoned by talking to people for hours on end. Sometimes to rest we want absolute silence, every small thing draining or annoying us further. Sometimes we will continue to speak normally, or even crave it. Sometimes we simply need to rip an idiot to shreds. Depends on the people.
“Do you always understand everything you feel?” Cas asked, one day.
He thought, obscurely, that Spring was the right time for a question like this; or at least this Spring was - a Spring that felt fresh and light and hazy, still dazed by the wonder of Winter’s passing. Dean, sitting in the car beside him, looked washed out by it - or rather, washed clean, Cas supposed he meant. Softened, in any case.
“How d’you mean?” Dean said. He turned to Cas, the bright sun shrinking out the darkness in his eyes - turning them green. Green like go-lights, green like mazes - no, gentler than both of those; green like the water-full leaves of succulent plants. Green like book covers, like peppermint-flavour candies.
“I mean… do you ever feel something that you can’t explain? Something… ineffable?”
Dean pressed his lips together. Cas wondered if he needed to explain the word ‘ineffable’.
“Nah?” he said. “I guess most of what I feel, I know what to call it. I don’t always like it, but at least I know what it is.”
Cas nodded seriously. Dean let the silence rest for a while as they cruised down the Spring-morning road.
“What about you?” he said eventually.
Cas lifted a shoulder.
“I… have a thousand words for how things feel,” he said, “and a thousand things to feel within me. But I… I cannot make them match.”
Part I / Part II Pairing: Shawn Mendes x female character Rating: Mature Words: 3126
A/N: This is loosely based on some lines in Blink-182’s song After Midnight, and you should listen to it bc it’s a great tune. I started this ages ago and forgot about it and when I found it I loved it. I also snuck in requests - 3 from this and 79 and 148 from this. I hope you like it ^^
His hands are under her thighs, keeping her close, and her chest is pushed against him, her arms around his neck. Shawn walks lazily through the dark, moving carefully so as to not let her fall.
“You know, I wouldn’t do this if you weren’t my best friend,” Shawn slurs.
“I know,” she grins and turns her head on his shoulder to place a messy kiss on his cheek.
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” Shawn sighs, pushing up on his toes with force so that she moves higher up on his back, then stalks on slowly along the trail.
“You wouldn’t have had to. This is your fault by the way, you had it coming,” she accuses.
“How is it my fault?” His head snaps to the side and he stumbles, almost falling, but his hand takes hold of a low branch just in time.
“Well, you decided it was a good idea to take a shortcut through the woods while we’re both drunk this late at night and I’m wearing heels that are higher than Wendy was when we left, so it’s only fair you help me out by not letting me trip and die.”
Shawn laughs at her dramatic wording of the situation. “But you had fun though, didn’t you?”
“Loved it! Birthday girl is as alive as the night. You used to have a crush on her, right? Didn’t you get her number before? You never told me how that went.”
“We did talk, but we just stayed friends because she’s been with her girlfriend for years,” Shawn says, chuckling.
“Oh, that explains it. Girls are either blind or gay if they pass on you, because you’re a catch and you’re hot. I think you’re like, really hot.”
Shawn stops walking and turns his head to look at her. This isn’t something she would have said had she not been drinking earlier. He likes to think that their friendship is strong because of the way it has so many sides; they crack jokes at each other’s expense, and they bicker like an old married couple, but they also understand each other like one would their soulmate. They can read one another with a single glance, and they’re always there when the other needs them. They casually tell each other ‘love ya’ when they hang up the phone or when they text goodnight, but platonic is the word he would use to describe them. They’ve even given each other pep talks in order to boost their egos in preparation for first dates. This however, is nothing like that platonic love. These are uninhibited words, an honest thought, because she would never admit to finding him attractive like this.
As if she’s realised what she just said, she clears her throat and brings her hands to his shoulders and loosens the grip of her thighs around him. “I think I can walk now.”
Shawn bends his knees to let her down and he realises that she must have been lying because she steadies herself on every other tree that they pass. They walk the rest of the trail in silence, which isn’t unusual for them when they’re alone together; they can spend hours sitting next to each other without speaking while he plays video games and she reads a book with her legs across his thighs. But this stillness is a shy lack of words that are replaced by the buzzing of bugs and an owl hooting somewhere among the trees.
A while later, they arrive at the edge of the forest and then they stagger through a suburb he’s not sure he recognises, but the houses look similar to the ones in his area so they keep going until he feels dizzy, the last of the consumed alcohol getting to him. They sit down on the sidewalk in front of somebody’s garage for a while as she rubs his shoulders and back as he fights the nausea.
“I swear, if you throw up…”
“It would be pretty embarrassing for me to puke on Craig’s driveway,” Shawn says.
“That’s his house?” She turns to the garden and recognises the place. “Then by all means, go right ahead. He was such a dick after the breakup. He deserves some vomit on his lawn.”
“Nope,” Shawn replies, slowly standing up. “I think I’m good now.” He starts to walk and she drunkenly waddles behind him.
They’ve gotten themselves deeper in the area when their roles flip, and she’s the drunker one as Shawn starts to sober up, and she seems to have gained a sudden adrenaline rush.
“Did you have one of the brownies?” Shawn asks.
“No, but I was there when they were smoking,” she giggles with a grin on her face.
“You are so high,” he teases.
“Who cares?! Carpe noctem!” she yells into the night, then turns and starts to walk in reverse.
“What does that mean?” Shawn laughs, affected by her contagious bliss.
“It’s like carpe diem, except, you know, night,” she smirks at him and shrugs, then turns around to skip ahead.
“Let’s carpe this frickin’ noctem!”
She looks so alive in that moment, with a big smile plastered on her face and her arms spread out as she runs. Shawn thinks that there is nothing else he would be doing than following her down this street right now and he feels his chest fill with a strange feeling he doesn’t quite get. He follows her and wraps his arms around her waist, spinning her around him. She shrieks and squiggles free of his grip before turning to him. Giggling, she pokes the end of his nose with her fingertip before running off again.
Shawn catches up to her and slows her down with a hand on her shoulder then hooks his arm around hers for good measure, because the alcohol and the marijuana has definitely gotten to her, and the last thing they need is for her to run into a street lamp and come home bruised.
They wander around for what feels like ages, their slightly drunken state paired with their carelessness doing nothing to help, but Shawn realises a while later that the street signs are no longer blurry. He’s unsure of where exactly they are relative to his place so he tries to remember how the streets are placed, but his mind still feels a little groggy. They follow a curve of streetlamps, and after a while he understands that they’ve been walking in circles.
“Are we lost or do you know where we are?”
“I’m not so sure anymore…” Shawn trails off, slowly spinning around to have a look at their surroundings.
“You’re an idiot.”
“I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid,” he defends. He spots another street sign that he recognises and finally, he figures it out. “Come here, I think I know where to go now.”
He decides that walking down a straight road is a much better idea and it takes them another twenty minutes that feel more like an hour, but soon enough they’re in front of Shawn’s backyard, slowly opening the gate and sneaking in like thieves.
“Home at last,” he sighs in relief.
“It wouldn’t have taken so long if we hadn’t gotten lost,” she mutters.
“I’ve taken that shortcut a thousand times, and that’s never happened to me,” he defends.
“Have you ever taken it after drinking?”
“You make a fair point.” Shawn shrugs, and his eyes fall upon the dark window of his sister’s room. “We have to be quiet,” he says, holding a finger in front of his mouth. “I think they’re asleep.”
“I’m not gonna have any problems being quiet, you’re the one with long, clumsy legs. And your balance is shit when you’re drunk,” she taunts.
“For your information, I have sobered up quite a bit. See,” he says, lifting one leg behind him as he leans forward with his arms spread out, but he puts his foot back down when he wavers.
“By the looks of your balance and your face you haven’t.”
“My face?” He asks, his fingers automatically going up to his cheek.
“You blush after two beers.”
“I do not.”
She pulls out her phone and quickly snaps a picture of him with the flash on, and he’s momentarily blinded when the light hits his face. When he blinks his eyes open he sees the picture of himself, eyelids tightly shut, nose scrunched up, and yes, cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink.
“Damn right,” she says. “Let’s get inside now, I’m fucking freezing.”
“No, wait, I just had the best idea!” he grins. “What if we get in the jacuzzi?”
“Shawn, it’s two am.”
“You were the one who said ‘carpe noctem’. Are you too chicken to follow through?”
“No, but I didn’t bring extra underwear,” she whines.
“We can just get in naked!” He grins, an excited look on his face. “I promise to let you borrow my clothes,” he bribes.
She squints thoughtfully. “Fine. But if I’m going commando, so are you.”
She undresses and gets into the water first as he turns away, and then he makes her cover her eyes as he sheds his clothes. He carefully dips his feet into the water first, then sinks into the welcoming heat.
“You can open your eyes now,” he says.
“It’s not like I needed to close them anyway, it’s pitch black. I can hardly see you.”
“Can you see me now?” Shawn asks as he moves closer until he’s sitting right next to her.
“Yes, your cheeks are like a neon sign,” she chuckles.
“Fuck off,” he laughs. “As much as a dick you are, this is nice. Let’s make this a tradition. Every time we come to my place drunk, we get in the tub.”
“Are you serious?” She laughs. “What about during winter?”
“Right…” Shawn mumbles and thinks it over for a second. “Quickie. We just get in and get out.”
“Alright, but we get hot chocolate after.” She smiles at him quickly before her face falls. “I just realised that we’re gonna freeze our asses off when we get out of the tub. Can we just stay here forever?”
“I don’t think my parents would be too happy to find us naked in the morning.”
“Your parents,” she groans. “We have to get out.”
“But it’s so cold. Think we can just live with the embarrassment tomorrow?”
She deadpans. “I’ll bake you a cake if you get us towels,” she offers, her face now sporting a sweet smile.
Shawn makes his second agreement for the night, negotiating his way to a two tier cake with muffins on the side, even though he knows she would have baked for him anyways, then runs inside, knowing full well that she has a good view of his arse and will most likely tease him about it later. Shuffling through a cabinet in the bathroom, he finds two large towels and hurries back outside. When he returns with one of the towels hanging from his hips, she’s sitting on the edge of the tub with her back turned to him, arms twisted around her bare body. Her shivering figure is a pitiful sight, so he walks up from behind and wraps the other towel around her.
She flinches at the unsuspected contact, but relaxes when she sees it’s him. “Thanks,” she says, pulling the towel tighter against her. “I got it, you can let go now,” she says, looking up at his eyes when he doesn’t remove his arms.
“Uh, yeah, sorry.” He swallows and takes a couple of steps back, giving her some space.
Shawn passes her a t-shirt and steps into a pair of sweatpants himself while she pulls his shirt over her head, then slides in under the big blanket next to her, sighing at the comfort of his own bed.
“I love your pillows. They’re so big,” she says, shoving her cheek into one of them as she hugs another.
“Are you still drunk?”
She reminds him of his cat when she was still a kitten, how she would fall asleep curled into her own body, and he thinks that she looks pretty damn cute the way she resembles the feline, wrapped in his blanket and surrounded by pillows.
“No, ‘m sober, I swear,” she mumbles.
“Good, then I don’t have to take care of your drunk ass.” Shawn tugs the pillow that’s in her arms and places it beneath his head, smirking when he sees her appalled expression.
“That’s not fair, I’m freezing and it was keeping me warm,” she says, pulling the blanket tighter around herself.
“I need a pillow too,” he says. “But I can cuddle you, I’m warm.”
She places her palm hesitantly on his bare chest, then grins. “Oh my God, you are a furnace. Please hold me,” she pleads although he has already offered to, removing the barrier between them and shuffling closer.
Shawn voluntarily wraps his arms around her and she snuggles into him as he quickly rubs his hand against her back to generate heat. He inhales the smell of her shampoo, a floral scent he can’t quite place, and that strange feeling that he still doesn’t understand comes back. He feels his heart beat faster and he wonders if she realises, because lying in bed like this with her, this close, reminds him of the first time he had a boy in his bed. It reminds him of how he felt when the boy had placed his fingers on Shawn’s cheek and gently kissed him, how they had slowly explored each other with nervous hands. But he shouldn’t be feeling this way, and he definitely shouldn’t be thinking of kissing her because the person he’s holding is his best friend.
She hums and he is pulled back from his thoughts. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. It’s the Canadian in me,” he chuckles.
“Uh, not technically, because you don’t have Canadian genes,” she says.
“I keep forgetting that. Well, then evolution has just done a great job with me. I’m also supposedly really hot.”
She chuckles, slapping his chest with her palm gently, and the quiet returns, but this time it’s nice. They don’t need to fill the empty air with small talk; they’re comfortable like this. Along with the comfort comes the thought of a them in Shawn’s mind.
“Did you know that I had a crush on you when we were twelve?” Shawn doesn’t know where the first words to break the silence come from, but they slip past his lips before he can stop himself.
“What?!” She moves abruptly, resting on her forearms as she faces him.
“Yeah. It wasn’t as much of a crush as I thought you were cute, but I also kinda wanted to kiss you, if that makes sense?”
“That sounds like a crush to me,” she laughs. She smiles above him, and Shawn think he sees a faint blush on her cheeks but tells himself he’s imagining things, but then she speaks, “I thought you were cute, too. I mean, I still think you’re cute. Now you’re my best friend.”
He grins, scanning her face for any message, but she just has a faint smile on her lips. Then he notices how her eyes move down, and he wonders, this is when he’s supposed to kiss her, right? That’s how she’d instructed him when he was nervous for his first kiss. He remembers how she had held his face between her hands, whispered against his lips, telling him how to make it better by going slow, and how she had pulled back just before their lips touched. She had told him that girls had a look on their face when they wanted a boy to kiss them, and he was almost certain that this was that look. Hell, he had kissed plenty of girls since, but this is his favourite person, and this means so much more.
He’s hesitant, but he recognises the movement of her eyes and how she licks her lips, and he knows. He lifts his head the slightest bit when she moves hers lower. Shawn thinks everything has stopped, his heart, time, the air around them; everything feels still. Then he realises how absurd the situation is, and he bursts into laughter.
She places her hand over his mouth, attempting to silence him while she giggles into his chest. He makes a strained noise under her hand, and licks her palm when she doesn’t remove it.
“Ew! Why would you do that?!” She wipes her palm against his stomach, and her hand lingers there for a second, and then her eyes look down to his exposed abdomen. “Shut up,” she mutters, when she sees the smirk on his face.
They lie like that for a while, quiet, close to each other, and grinning from ear to ear.
“You’re my best friend,” he says.
Then he moves closer again. She mirrors his movement, tilting her head slightly to the side. Their lips are nearly touching when he pauses, because he has to ask.
“Promise we’ll be okay after?” Shawn whispers the words, terrified of what they mean and what the impending kiss could mean.
“I promise,” she whispers just as quietly. Then she leans in until their lips are touching.
The kiss is sweet, innocent, and gently lingering. But then Shawn’s fingers move to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and his fingertips brush her neck when he retracts his hand, but her neck feels like a good place for his fingers to be so he rests them there and slowly strokes the skin. She gasps at the feeling, and her mouth falls open, and then the kiss becomes kisses and they become fast and sloppy until sounds can be heard between their mouths. They pull away for a second to catch their breaths, but immediately resume. Shawn’s hand crawls up her back between the shirt and her flesh, and he rubs her back soothingly.
“Mm, too much tongue,” she mumbles against his lips.
Shawn pulls back, offended. “Too much teeth,” he counters.
“Sorry, I’ll be nice,” she laughs, delivering a gentle peck on his mouth.
Her lips are soft against his, and she just feels so nice, and Shawn thinks that he wouldn’t mind doing this more often.
“I think I like kissing you,” he mumbles.
“I think I like kissing you too,” she replies.
They kiss again for a while, slowly this time, until they stop because Shawn almost dozes off. So they hold each other close with loose grips and gentle hands and talk about everything but the kiss, because they don’t need to.
it’s funny that hamlet says ‘the rest is silence’ and then horatio says 'flights of angels sing thee to thy rest’
it’s like hamlet has thought about death so long and so hard that he’s stripped all its imagery, all its mystique. there’s nothing romantic or tragic or good or bad about dying. it just is. it’s happening to him, and he’s a little relieved and a little regretful, but it is what it is, it’s silence, and if it’s no more than that than at least it’s no less. he’s dying, and that’s all there is to say. for once, he has nothing more to say
horatio can’t have the same almost nihilistic view of death. as hamlet dies he seems to rise above it all, it doesn’t matter any more. horatio doesn’t get this luxury. he can’t look down at death and say that it just is, that it’s just silence. for hamlet, death is just darkness and silence, it’s just cessation. for horatio, death is his best friend, his love, his whole world, coughing and shuddering in his arms and then going still, going silent, going cold. while hamlet is the neutrality of knowing acceptance, horatio is pain and passion and grief and love, and he can’t just let it be silent, neutral. he needs to make it beautiful and poignant, meaningful and holy. he doesn’t need silence. he needs the bells of heaven to ring
the war may be over, but it’s practically impossible for a demigod to go months without being thrown into some dangerous quest and with percy, annabeth, jason, etc. busy, all heads turn to nico di angelo
who of course attempts at getting out of it with his incredibly valid doctor note, except even that is not going to convince chiron this time
and as he’s packing to leave, will comes by the hades cabin and just stands in the doorway, not really doing anything besides letting his eyes rest on nico, who hasn’t noticed yet
maybe he’s drinking in nico—his figure, his movements, his little gestures, perhaps in fear the he won’t return from his mission.
when nico does notice, both of them perhaps look at each other a bit too long before will cracks a smile and nico reciprocates before busying himself with packing aka not letting will’s unbelievably blue eyes distract him from this
and then will approaches him and they just do a lot of cute banter that’s light and carefree as if nico might not die today
near the end of the packing, there’s a lot of silences and parting lips as if they want to say something to the other but choose against it and instead exchange glances that look so adoring but with these worried undertones
eventually, the dreaded moment finally comes after they walk back together
it’s kind of awkward and neither of them know why. maybe it’s cause will has these words that are in his throat that he’s desperate to confess but instead he just swallows them down. maybe it’s cause nico is more fidgety than normal and his lips keep getting dry
if it’s going to be the last time will sees him, then his heart insists on embracing the smaller boy and getting used to his figure and warmth all too fast. except he knows nico really hates physical contact, and he isn’t sure what they are exactly
little does he know that nico really wishes he could bury his face in will’s neck as well
but they both settle instead on a few closure comments with half-hearted smiles and pursed lips and nods before nico turns away with a sole backpack slung over his shoulder and his iron sword securely around his waist
and as nico’s figure fades, the panic settles like a fire and it sinks in low until will feels sick to his stomach at the thought of nico getting hurt or even worse-–dying.
but he waves that thought away because that is the last thing that he needs to dwell on, and instead he walks back to the infirmary, perhaps shaking a bit, and finds excuses to stay there
will takes on all the patients at every given opportunity, leaving his siblings worried but unable to do much about it because will is far too stubborn when he’s nervous
and when there’s nobody left to heal anymore, he takes out his medical tools and organizes them all and skims over each book on his shelf but learns nothing because there are thoughts that are racing across his mind
will he be okay? will he be strong enough? will he shadow travel himself too much? will he know how to deal with injuries if he’s alone?
and then he hates himself, because he might never see nico again and he didn’t have the guts to even tell him how he felt.
in the process, will falls asleep with his face pressed against his arm and an open medical book on the desk. (kayla and austin have to drag his half-conscious ass to the apollo cabin when they find him)
nico, on the other hand, is doing a bit better since he’s kind of distracted with trying to stay alive, even if he hadn’t seen much of anything for the past few days
he finds his target’s general location and when he gets sleepy, he decides to camp it out in the natural veil of a forest
nico ests his head on the back of a tree and closes his eyes, sighing.
the first image that comes to his mind is the sun kissed mop of blonde hair. it glimmers in the sunlight, and he isn’t sure if it’s a memory but the simple sight of it is comforting
eyes still closed, he can almost touch will’s tan skin and gaze into the never ending blueness of his eyes that darken like layers of the ocean. he can feel the presence of will, just the gentle and honest warmth and kindness that seems to circulate around
(it’s an easing thought to nico, especially in the dark of night with grumbling clouds above and the wetness of the dirt from an earlier rainfall)
just as he feels himself drift off to sleep to will’s voice, a simple creak makes his eyes snap open, and he’s immediately pulled from his thoughts
nico surveys the forest, grasping at his sword and holding his breath until the monster lunges from the trees and suddenly nico feels his entire body being crushed, the metallic taste of blood instantly trailing across his lips and all the air in his lungs being squeezed out of him
he can’t see well, but his grip on his sword is strong and with a jumble of movement, he’s able to roll free from the monster’s grip and stand on his own two feet, immediately going for a direct slash
everything is a blur to him but the groans of the dying creature are enough for him to confirm that he’s done his job before he falls unconscious
will, on the other hand, hasn’t heard a thing from nico in a week by now. he keeps going to chiron, asking him if anyone has heard of him and his heart sinks every time chiron denies it
he’s tried his hardest to keep his chin up and act normal, but eventually kayla and austin see his condition and force him to get some rest at the cabin
in the silence of the cabin, will realizes that rest is the last thing he needs because it makes his thoughts wander and so he sits up on the bed and takes in a deep breath before considering his situation
it’s been a week and he hasn’t given any notice that he’s okay.
will imagines a pretty horrible scene in his head of nico and that’s enough to jog memories of nico’s laughter and smile and he realizes how much he misses that
so he takes his pillow and he buries his head in that and lets his worry channel through his tears, and it isn’t long before his tears become more like sobs as he whispers things out to nico
please be okay. i can’t do this anymore. please let us know. please be alive. please be okay.
nico wakes up in a daze. the first thing he notices is that he’s alive and actually breathing despite the sore throbbing of pain that’s pulsing in his ribs.
there’s still the taste of blood in his mouth and his vision is a blur for a few seconds before it becomes a bit too hard to breath correctly with his face stuffed in dirt
so nico tries to sit up a few times and fails before finally balancing himself on trembling legs and looks at the creature long dead before him, the knash in it’s abdomen prominent
nico puts a hand over his ribs, wincing at the pain and realizes that a certain son of apollo will be furious at him when he returns
the thought of will makes his throat tighten and he wonders how long it’s been since he last notified the camp
he’s worried sick about how worried will might be, and he trudges to camp, fighting his urges to shadow travel and get it over with because he knows that if he even tries, he’ll be dead in seconds
but eventually, he goes through camp half blood’s entrance and a few faces turn to aid him but he waves them off, insisting that he’s fine.
of course, he can’t have them worrying now. he needs to get to will. he doesn’t care what happens to him afterwards.
the thought scares him, but that’s the last thing on nico’s mind at the moment.
so he limps along the path to the infirmary, getting more numb to the pain along the way and his heart swells when he see’s that blonde hair glistening in the distance
will is sitting down on the steps of the infirmary, and nico notices that his eyes are stubbornly focused on nothing in particular, and for will that means he’s thinking deeply about something
the simplicity of that is enough to make those familiar skeletal butterflies flutter across his stomach and there’s a sudden bundle of energy that bursts in his chest
he keeps watching the peacefulness of the sight and wants to, forever.
“hey” is the only thing that nico can choke out with a pathetically wide smile plastered across his face
will’s head shoots up to that voice that he’s been wanting to hear for such a long time now, and tears instantly prick at the corners of his eyes when he see’s nico, in all his torn and scratched up glory
those are the only thoughts that are in will’s head at the moment, and he doesn’t know what to do with the sudden ball of happiness and relief in himself besides running up to nico and collecting him instantly in his arms.
will lets his head fall into nico’s neck, and he could care less that the smaller boy can feel the wetness of his tears. nico only lets out a light laugh that hurts a bit and he tangles his fingers into will’s hair, breathing in his scent.
will’s holding him a bit too tight, his fingers grasping at the fabric of nico’s jacket and he doesn’t want to ease up—he’s too afraid that nico will disappear if he lets go.
they part, both unwillingly, but before nico can speak, will captures his lips in a kiss with his own. nico’s lips are slightly cold and chapped, but will couldn’t care less because they’re his
nico, on the other hand, offered no hesitation and instead melted into will’s arms further feeling his heart swell with a sense of deliverance.
he couldn’t think of anything besides how warm will’s lips were and the taste of coffee that came with them.
for a few moments, they stay that away until both boys part and realize that they’ve actually kissed—which is huge considering they were pining nerds who couldn’t even brush hands without turning into every shade of red
and of course, they proceed to turn every shade of red when the realization kicks in, but it fades away as quickly as it comes because nico’s alive.
…and then they kind of realize that nico has a pair of very possibly broken ribs and that he’s kind of slowly dying and now will is red, panicking and angry at him for every reason on the planet
nico couldn’t be happier
i am half asleep and this is such crap but i couldn’t stop myself after i started and it’s really long and im sorry and should i put this under a read more tag??
(also thank you for being a cute and reading my tags!!)
Prompt request: Can I request one where Tony Stark has a little sister who’s very sweet to people and believes in second chances? Loki and Bucky are still trying to adjust to being at the tower but she goes out of her way to show them kindness and include them in things. They become an inseparable trio. It annoys Tony so she gets her guys to tease him with her cause he’s ‘jealous he isn’t allowed in their club ’
Characters: Tony Stark, Loki, Bucky, Reader, Steve Rogers, Sam WIlson
Warnings: cursing, rude comments, Tony’s kind of a jerk
A/N: I am so sorry this took so long to write! It was definitely one of the more complex stories, so I wanted to make sure I got it right (hopefully I did). This is my first Loki fanfic, so feedback is always appreciated! Requests and tags are open! As always, thanks for reading!
You plopped your bags on the tiled kitchen floor and sighed as you stretched your sore arm muscles. “Thanks again for letting me stay here, Tony,” you said, turning around to face your brother.
“Anytime, sweetheart,” he replied, placing your last two bags on the floor. He kissed your forehead and wrapped you up in a hug. “You’re always welcome here.”
You were living in the Avengers Tower for the summer with your older brother, Tony Stark. Okay, so he wasn’t actually your biological brother. In fact, he wasn’t even a brother by marriage. You were Pepper’s seventeen year-old sister, and even though she and Tony broke up more than a year ago, he never stopped loving you like his own sibling. He would still cheer you on at your soccer games, take you to the movies, and just spend time with you. You had been living with Pepper to claim residency in New York to get a cheaper tuition rate at your first-choice college. When Pepper got called away on a job for the summer, it made sense that you would stay with Tony.
It’s late when Keith hears a gentle tapping at his door. It’s so soft that it could easily be mistaken for just the castle resting, but in the silence of space, every sound is more significant.
“Yeah?” Keith nervously answers. There’s a pause, then someone clears their throat.
“It’s me.” lance answers. Keith feels his brows wrinkle in confusion, but he hops up to open his door. It swipes to the side to reveal Lance. Shirtless, in blue trunks and a towel around his neck. He shifts his weight nervously from foot to foot.
“Hey man, uh… I know it’s late, but I think I’ve figured out this pool situation if you wanted to…” He rubs behind his neck.
“Sorry, it’s really late. Everyone else is asleep so I get it if…”
“It’s fine.” Keith shyly laughs and shakes his head. “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”
Lance grins. Keith steps back into his room and pulls off his shirt in one smooth motion. Lance tries very hard to focus on the back wall and floor. He fails.
Keith steps out out of his pants and grabs his towel before making his way back to the door.
“Whoa, no trunks? Just your undies?” Lance guffaws.
“They cover the same amount of skin.”
“No these are…” Lance watches Keith walk in front of him. “…tighter.” He swallows. Keith looks back over his shoulder and smirks. Lance gasps. He jogs ahead to fall in step next to his friend.
“So scandalous!” He cries and melodramatically covers his mouth with his hand. Keith chuckles.
They walk through the cool halls, and up several flights of stairs (they avoid the elevator now) until they reach the great room with the pool. Keith looks up at the water that miraculously ripples against the ceiling.
Lance starts to scoot around the outside of the room. He looks at a panel with several witches and begins to press them with no particular methodology. lights flicker on and off, and it sounds like a fan starts.
“Allure said there should be….” Lance flicks a switch, and immediately their feet float off the ground. At first it’s slow, until he and Keith find themselves gaining speed.
“What did you…?!” Keith shrieks.
“I rerouted the gravity! Allure said that’s how you were supposed to…!” But Lance falls into the water before he can answer. He breaks the surface, gasping and disoriented as he looks up at what used to be the floor. Keith ungracefully splutters and gasps next to him. His dark hair completely covers his eyes and he looks half drowned. Lance dissolves into a fit of giggles. He takes his two index fingers and gently parts Keith’s fringe to find his face.
“You’re a mess,” He laughs.
“I wasn’t prepared!” Keith coughs. He brushes his hair out of his face. When Lance doesn’t stop laughing, he reaches out in an attempt to dunk him.
Lance shrieks and kicks off of him with a surprisingly powerful motion. It leaves Keith slightly winded, but he stays focused on how his friend glides gracefully through the water. His legs carry him with speed and fluidity. Keith gawks.
“You swim a lot?” He asks.
“Oh yeah.” Lance laughs. He dives under the water and rotates his body as he propels himself back towards Keith. When he pops up in front of him, Lance spits a stream of water into his face.
“AUGH!” Keith lashes out. He manages to at least touch Lance’s arm this time, but in the water his skin is smooth and slippery. He curls around Keith’s body like a snake, before he pulls him under.
Lance holds tight and is surprised when Keith doesn’t immediately kick and claw at him. His arms grip to Lance’s slim waist, and he lets himself be turned about in the water. His dark hair swirls around his face, and Lance would swear that it’s the prettiest Keith has ever looked. He presses himself closer and hangs on as Lance pulls them along the bottom of the pool, there feet scraping along the rough surface.
They gently break the surface with a sharp inhale. Keith’s hair sits nicely against his face this time. Tendrils of water move over his pale skin that looks even fairer in the blue light. His lips glisten.
“Bet I can beat you to the other side!” Keith announces. He beams as he dives under the water and begins to kick. Lance shakes his head and counts to five.
Even with the head start, Lance catches him easily. He grabs onto his ankle and hauls him back through the water, scooping him up into his arms and giggling when they break the surface. Keith keeps his arms wrapped around his neck and they press their foreheads together. Warm, humid air clouds between them. Keith slumps against Lance’s chest.
“I didn’t stand a chance did I?”
“Absolutely not.” Keith’s skin is irresistibly smooth under the water. Lance subconsciously begins to roam his hands over his hips and waist.
“I think I could still beat you.”
“You’re out of your depths, mullet boy.” Lance smirks particularly wide at his own pun.
“I’ll kiss you if you catch me again.” Keith breathes. Lance gasps, but doesn’t get much time to process before he’s sliding through his grip and kicking off again.
Lance doesn’t give him an advantage this time. With alarming speed, he’s swimming on top of Keith. Keith doesn’t hesitate to grab on to his shoulders and let himself be swept into Lance’s current. He opens his mouth to try and meet Lance’s, but his mouth just fills with water. He violently coughs when they rise to the top. Lance clicks his tongue.
“Did you try to kiss me underwater?”
“Shut up! It would’ve worked if we weren’t going so fast you… you…fish man.” Keith lightly hits his chest and it weakly splashes.
“C’mere,” Lance drags the smaller boy back to him.
His fingers tangle in dark hair and Keith immediately relaxes when their lips meet. It’s warm. The water between them makes their mouths slide even easier over one another and Keith hums. They kiss until their wet skin begins to chill and Lance feels Keith’s skin raise into goosebumps.
“Bet you can’t catch me three times.” Keith pants.
Lance laughs as Keith dives again. Despite his words, Keith has never been so willing to lose.
Summary: Is there more to this than just the two of you?
Pairing: Eggsy Unwin x reader
Warnings: Angst, eventual fluff - I promise
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: *Note - Reader is referenced by codename “Lamia” || My soulmate asked for another Eggsy fic - voila! This fic is loosely based on Dua Lipa & Martin Garrix’s “Scared to Be Lonely” - I’ve used some lyrics as quotes, and they’ve been italicized. [There may or may not be a part two for this - we shall see.] Hope you enjoy! | masterlist
my aesthetic: jacob and enoch laying in a messy bed and holding hands. jacob looks out the window and says something about how the sky is really bright for night time and enoch tells him that it’s not as bright as he is, immediately realizing that he actually said that out loud. jacob’s whole face turns red and enoch doesn’t look at him for a solid ten minutes.
both are thankful when they’re called down for the reset.