what is wrong with me this made me laugh like a drain

Reaper: Chapter Two

His hand was warm.

Isa pulled me to my feet. “Just a second,” he said, scanning the area.

I didn’t feel dead. I could feel the wind on my skin and my heart hammering in my chest. My hands were trembling with adrenaline. That had to be a good sign.

“Kat,” Isa said, startling me. I had been staring at my hands so intently that I hadn’t noticed he was holding out his hand to me again.

“I’m not dead,” I informed him a bit giddily, taking his hand again.

Isa didn’t smile, but the corners of his eyes crinkled. “This way,” he said, pointing with his free hand. I looked, but he seemed to be pointing towards thin air.

He led me away from the broken highway and my silver car, wading through the faded brown grass. After about twenty yards he stopped and turned to me.

“I need you to think of a place,” he said, “Any place.”

My mind went blank. “Any place?”

“Anywhere. Visualize it in your mind. Got it?” I hesitated before nodding. “Good. Now we’re going to take one more step together.”

I looked at the grass before us. It didn’t look any different from any other patch of grass we’d passed. I drew a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“And go.”

As we stepped forward together, the air went…soft. Like a deep, thick mattress. Like holding an overripe peach in your hands and slowly pressing in your thumbs, letting them sink into it. Not hot or cold or anything like that. Just soft.

Less than a moment passed before the softness was gone; I didn’t even have time to blink. We were still standing in the grass by the highway. I could see my car close by and the mountains looming in the distance. But the edges of the mountains were vague and unclear, and the light that filtered through the clouds was tinted red, almost as though it was shining through rose-colored glass. More telling was the quiet. The wind had disappeared, and the grass was silent and still.

“You know,” Isa commented, “I think people usually choose somewhere other than the place they’re currently standing.”

“I panicked,” I responded, taking in everything around me, “Which seems to be my basic state of existence at this point.”

Unlike everything else, Isa seemed more real than ever. The basics were still the same: pale, ashy skin stretched tight over his body, white hair, and jet black eyes set deep in their sockets. His fingers and limbs were overly long for his body, and he was wearing a black hooded coat with loose sleeves, grey pants, boots, and a t-shirt with a vintage ad for spam.

However, his skin lacked the translucent quality it usually had, and his shadow -

“You have a shadow,” I blurted out, “You have a - the grass. You’re actually crushing down the grass.” I knelt down and confirmed for myself that yes, the grass could be pressed down, and then I turned around and thrust out my hand. The softness was waiting just feet behind me. “Where are we?”

“This is an inbetween place,” he replied, watching as I shuffled a few feet to the side and stuck out my hand again, “We needed somewhere safe to talk.”

I pulled my hand from the softness and tried again. “And the deserted highway wasn’t cutting it?”

Isa pressed his lips together. “It’s not humans that I’m worried about overhearing us.”

I paused mid thrust. “Oh.” The fear which had almost been forgotten in my wonder flared up.

“Here,” Isa said, and he took my hand again, leading me around whatever invisible portal we had passed through. Almost mindlessly I walked towards the car.

“Are we safe here, then?”

He shrugged. “Should be. I don’t think I was followed - there’s no good reason anyone would, really, I’m not a major player. But it’s not wise to talk about these things in the open on principle.”

We reached the car, and I stretched out my hand to touch it. It was solid under my fingers, but the numbers on the license plate were scrambled, changing every time I blinked. 

Isa stopped me as I went to open the driver’s side door.

"I just wanted to see if it would start,” I said.

Isa shook his head. “It might, but it’s not wise to go through any doors here. There’s no telling where you might end up.”

A little disappointed, I perched on the trunk instead, pulling up my legs and wrapping my arms around them. Isa stood before me, hands shoved in his pockets.

“So…” I started, Isa looking at me expectantly, “Are you an angel?”

Isa burst out laughing. It was an odd sound, out of place in the unnatural silence of the inbetween.

“No, and I wouldn’t let an angel hear you say that if I were you. Actually, it would probably be fine; most angels I’ve met are quite nice. But trust me, if you ever meet an angel, you’ll know it. People tend to fall over when they show up.”

“Okay, not an angel.” There went half the theories I’d ever read. “Then what are you? And don’t say a reaper.”

“I never really liked that name anyway,” he replied. He kicked the ground for a moment, thinking. “I’m the guardian of your soul. I’ve been with you since your soul first joined your body. I will ensure no one touches it until your life is complete.”

“…And when my life is complete?”

“I take your soul,” he answered nonchalantly, “ - Kat?”

I rolled off the car, running into the field, running towards the softness.

Maybe he wasn’t an angel after all. But there were other theories about the reapers.

“Kat?” he called after me, “I’m not taking your soul here and now.”

I stumbled to a stop in a panic. The grass all looked the same. Whatever gateway we’d walked through wasn’t marked by any kind of visual cue. I was effectively trapped.

“Maybe you’re not taking it now,” I said as I turned, arms tight by my sides, hands clenched, “but you’re going to.”

Isa walked towards me slowly, “That probably wasn’t the best way for me to phrase that.” I shrank away from him instinctively, and he sighed. “This would be easier if I was an angel. They’re good at explaining things. Can I try again?”

He waited until I nodded hesitantly.

“I’m the guardian of your soul. I was bound to you the moment your soul entered your body. While you live, I’ll protect your soul from harm. When your days are complete, I’ll carry your soul to its rest. I’m not going to kill you, consume your soul, drain your life force, steal your corporeal form,  keep you in a tortured disembodied state devoid of all sensation, or anything else of that kind.”

I stared at him. “That’s…really specific.”

“But you’re not running this time,” Isa noted.

“If you’re lying, I’m screwed anyway,” I retorted.

“Ah.” Isa’s body seemed to droop ever so slightly. “I liked it better when you just trusted me.”

“And I liked it better when I wasn’t afraid I was going crazy,” I snapped. I shut my eyes and paused, willing myself to breath deeply. “I’m tired. I’m stressed and exhausted and I have no clue what’s going on. You disappeared for two weeks and I didn’t even know reapers could do that, and now you’re talking and you touched me and I’m somehow not dead and we’re in a freaking alternate dimension or something and it’s just a bit much.”

“I didn’t intend to let things get this out of hand,” Isa admitted, “I only thought I’d be gone for a few hours at most.”

Finally, the question that had been burning in my chest for weeks. “What happened? Why did you leave?”

“There was a reaper who needed help. He and his human were being targeted, and they weren’t going to make it.”

“Are they okay?”

His face brightened a bit. “They are. The woman died and he was able to deliver her soul safely.”

“Your definition of a happy ending and mine are a little different,” I muttered, “What did they need protection from?”

Isa looked grim. “There are many beings who would want to misuse a human soul,” he said softly, “And there are others who would like nothing more than to see a reaper give into the temptation to take advantage of their charge. Some of these were attacking this reaper in the hope of either claiming the soul for themselves or, if nothing else, forcing the reaper into a position where he drew on the soul for power. I thought they’d back off once I came to his aid, but they fought until the end.”

Behind Isa’s shoulder, I saw something like a dark smudge on the horizon where the mountains met the sky. A horrible sense of wrongness settled in my gut.

“I didn’t mean to leave you for so long,” he continued, “And it shouldn’t -”

“Isa,” I interrupted, pointing urgently, “There’s something here.”

Isa turned to look. The smudge was getting larger. “No,” he said, “No no no no!” He grabbed my hand.

“We need to move now!” He took off across the field, dragging me behind him. We passed through the softness and the world shifted, the rosy light turning grey. We sprinted back to my car.

I looked back towards the mountains. I couldn’t see anything.

“Get in the car,” Isa ordered, and I hurried to do so. After buckling myself in, I looked up to see Isa pull out a gun.

“Drive home as fast as you can,” he said, ignoring my shock, “And don’t stop until I say so.” With that, he swung himself onto the roof of my car.

I turned on the car and made a U-turn, pressing the pedal to the floor. A minute later gun shots rang out, and I looked into the mirror to see something burst through the portal and hurtle down the broken highway in pursuit.

Skulls and Roses ☠️🥀

JUNGKOOK - COLLEGE AU, TATTOOIST AU. 

The best way to get someone’s attention is to get a tattoo or hit someone with your motorcycle. 

PART TWO

Originally posted by sugutie

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” you sprint across the quad, pushing past students and jumping over bushes and benches like a track star doing hurdles. The chanting of the curse word only gets louder and faster once you looked down at your watch once again and saw that your class would start in less than a minute and you were a mile away from the science building.

You’re too distracted with staring at your watch that you don’t notice that you’re in the middle of the street until your face is touching the rough pavement and some random guy is sprawled beside you. At first, you think that it’s a boulder that had fallen from the mountains that surrounded your campus but when your vision focused on the black lump you realized it was a helmet.

Keep reading

married part 6- h.s imagine

you can read the previous part here

Harry smiled as he looked down at his mom on her wedding day as they were swaying back and forth on the dance floor. Anne smiled at her son but couldn’t help but notice that Harry’s eyes would glance over to his beautiful best friend sitting down at a table. She noticed whenever they caught each other’s gaze, they would blush and look away. “Harry” Anne spoke up, interrupting Harry’s staring. “Yes, mum?” Harry asked, his eyebrows quirking up. Anne smiled and placed her hand on his cheek. “Promise me that you’ll marry that girl someday.” Harry looked back over towards you. You had your hand placed over your mouth as you laughed at something his little cousin told you. Harry smiled and looked down before he looked into his mother’s eyes. “I promise.”

Growing up, you always thought having the “perfect ending” and “finding the one” was a total cliche. Whenever your friends described kissing their significant other, they would always describe the feeling of being on top of the world. You never believed that you would find someone who would be able to give you that feeling. You never believed that someone’s lips would be able to give you that much reassurance.

Until Harry kissed you.

As Harry’s lips met yours, you finally knew what everyone was talking about. Kissing Harry made you feel like you could take on the world. This kiss alone made you feel like all your worries and all your stress suddenly vanished into thin air. Kissing Harry felt right.

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around Harry’s neck as you kissed him back. You could feel Harry’s lips quirking into a smile as he kissed you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, trying to pull you closer as if he couldn’t bare to have you and further away from him.

When Harry kissed you, his best friend, he felt sparks. His lips felt like they were on fire. Never has he ever felt this way whenever he kissed Kimberly. It was in this kiss Harry knew that you were it for him. It was in this kiss did he realize just how in love with you he was.

What felt like an eternity, you finally pulled away. Both you and Harry were panting from the kiss. With closed eyes, Harry smiled as he rested his forehead against yours. A moment of silence passed between the two of you before Harry finally spoke up, “I can’t believe I waited so long to do that.”

You stepped out of Harry’s hold, wrapping your arms around yourself, suddenly feeing so ashamed. You shook your head as you whispered, “That was wrong, Harry.” As much as you loved the kiss and no matter how magical it felt, you were with Lucas and until the divorce was final, Harry was still married. You could literally see all the color from Harry’s face drain. You could see nothing but horror on his face as he backed into the wall behind him. You watched as his eyes took you in. It was like he was trying to understand the million thoughts going through your mind. You avoided eye contact with him as you stared at the ground, your eyes welling up with tears once again.

Suddenly Harry whispered, “But I love you, Y/N.”

You placed your hand over your mouth as you tried to choke back a sob that was trying to rip its way out of your body.

Harry slowly stepped closer to you. “It’s been a year since you told me you loved me, Y/N. Please, I need to hear you say it again. Please.”

When Harry was met with silence, he wiped his eyes. He looked down at his fidgeting fingers. “Do you still love me, Y/N?”

You looked up at Harry. As much as you wanted to scream out how much of an idiot he was and that of course you still loved him, you couldn’t. As much as you wanted to tell him that you don’t think you’ll ever stop loving him, you didn’t. Instead you said something you instantly regretted, “I fell in love with Lucas.”

You watched as Harry gasp for air. You watched as he placed his hand over where his heart was as if you actually broke it in pieces. You sniffed before you whispered, “I’m sorry, H.” Quickly, you walked back into the restaurant.

Harry placed his head in his hands as he dropped down to the floor. He brought his knees up to his chest as he cried the hardest he’s ever cried. Not giving a flying fuck who saw. Harry felt broken. Not only did he miss the opportunity to be with the love of his life, he lost his best friend.


You stared down at your lap as you sat in a silent uber with Lucas. Lucas was staring out of the window, not daring to say a word. He didn’t have to see Harry but he knew he was there tonight. He also knew that he was the reason why you had tear stained cheeks. Lucas glanced at you before he sighed. He took your hand in his. “Y/N? Do you want to talk about what happened tonight?”

You looked down at Lucas’s hand holding yours. You couldn’t help but think about how you felt absolutely nothing for this sweet man in front of you. You tried so hard to think about spending a future with Lucas. You thought Lucas was your chance of finally being happy. But after seeing Harry? After kissing Harry? You knew what you had to. You looked up at Lucas’s eyes filled with nothing but concern. You sighed before you whispered, “I can’t be with you anymore, Lucas.”

Lucas let go of your hand. Staring at his lap, he let out an, “Oh.” You shook your head as you inched closer to him. You placed your hand on his knee. “I can’t be the girl you need, Lucas. You’re so sweet and so caring. I don’t deserve you.”

Lucas nodded as he placed his hand on top of yours. “It’s okay, Y/N. I understand.” You leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Suddenly the car pulled in front of your apartment building. You thanked the uber driver and said a goodbye to Lucas before you got out of the car. You started to walk inside until Lucas called out your name. He had the window rolled down as he said, “I hope you get your happy ending with him one day, Y/N.”

You smiled. This boy really was something special. You knew he would make someone feel so happy one day. “I’ll see you at the wedding tomorrow.” You said before you made your way inside.


You let out a yawn as you stepped off the elevator, a tray of coffee in your hand. Whenever you closed your eyes, all you saw was Harry’s crying face. Guilt consumed your body as you thought about the lie you told Harry. You knew there was no way that you could fix it. You knew this was officially the end of an era. You sighed, hoping the makeup artist Emma hired for today will be able to conceal a broken heart. You knocked on Emma’s door before Olivia, another bridesmaid, opened the door for you. You gave her a small smile and hug before you walked into the hotel room.

Emma and Niall decided to have their wedding at one of the most beautiful hotels London had to offer, Hotel ZaZa. They both rented a room dedicated to the groomsmen to get ready and a room for the bridesmaids to get ready.

Emma’s eyes lit up as soon as she saw you. She walked over to you and gave you a hug before she grabbed the coffee tray out of your hands. “Y/N! Just in time, it’s your turn to get your makeup done.” You nodded as you sat in front of the makeup artist. The other two bridesmaids were sitting on the other side of the room getting their hair done. Emma sat down on the bed across from you. She noticed how quiet you were as the makeup artist was having at it on your face. “I saw you and Harry out on the patio last night.” Emma whispered softly. She saw the moment you pulled away from Harry after the kiss. She saw how Harry crumbled to the floor as you fled the scene. You glanced at Emma before you looked away.

“Do you want to talk about it softly?” Emma asked. You shook your head as the makeup artist was grabbing a brush. “No. It’s your wedding day. We should be focusing on you right now.” You smiled softly at Emma. “Are you ready to become Mrs. Horan?”


You smiled your best smile as you walked down the aisle. You looked straight ahead to see a very nervous Niall smiling at you. As you walked to where the other bridesmaids were standing, you mouthed to him, “You got this.”

Suddenly an instrumental version of “A Thousand Years” started to play, signaling the bride was coming. You smiled as you saw Emma walking down with her father. You remember when Emma told you that she wanted to walk down to this song, you thought it was silly. You thought it was a total cliche. But after seeing Emma smiling down at her husband to be with tears on both their faces, you knew this song was perfect for him. You truly knew they would love each other for thousands of years.

Finally the time came for Niall and Emma to say their vows to each other. You noticed Niall’s trembling fingers as he reached inside his suit pocket to grab his paper. He took a deep breath before he looked into Emma’s eyes.

“Emma, when I met you a year ago, I knew you were going to be the girl I married. After our second date, I promised myself that I would never hurt you. I promised that I will always be the one to make you laugh whenever you’re upset, to be the one that holds your hand when you need someone to talk to, and to be the one that you can call your best friend. The more that I’m with you, the more I forget the feeling of being lonely.”

As Harry was listening to Niall’s vows, he couldn’t help but look at you. God, he thought. You looked absolutely gorgeous. How was it that everyone’s eyes were on the bride but he couldn’t take his eyes off you? You were stunning. Harry’s eyes started to well with tears as he stared at his best friend. He couldn’t help but think that the next wedding you were going to be at would be your own with Lucas.

Emma cleared her throat before she promised her vows to Niall, “Niall Horan, I have never met someone that makes me laugh as much as you do. Never have I ever found someone that I can truly be myself with. You make me forget all of my troubles in the world and I could never thank you enough for that. I promise to always choose you. Whenever things get hard and whenever you need someone to talk to, I will be your best friend. I will be your wife.”

You wiped away a tear as you looked out into the guests. Immediately you were able to find Harry’s green eyes. You noticed how Harry was tearing up as he was staring back at you. You couldn’t help but think these were the kind of vows you always pictured yourself saying to Harry. You couldn’t get Harry off your mind.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Niall, you may kiss your bride.”


Emma smiled gratefully at you as she washed her hands. “Thank you so much, Y/N. I knew going to the restroom was going to be hard but I didn’t think it was going to be that hard.” You let out a chuckle as you were washing your own hands. Emma was practically begging you to help her pee while she was in her dress during dinner. How could you say no to the bride?

“No problem at all, love.” You replied as you dried your hands. You were about to walk out the restroom when you noticed Emma wasn’t following. You closed the door and turned around to see Emma staring off into space.

“Em? You ready?” You asked. Emma looked back at you and smiled. She pulled you into a hug. Confused, you returned the hug. Emma pulled away from the hug and pulled you over to the lounge area of the restroom. She sat on one of the couches and you followed after her. Emma grabbed your hand in hers. “Y/N. Even though I’ve known you for less than a year, I can happily say you’re one of my best friends.”

You smiled, “You’re my best friend too, Em.” Emma smiled before she continued, “In my relationship with Niall, you’ve been nothing but supportive. You’ve supported our love for each other from the start and I will always remain grateful. That’s why, as your best friend, I want nothing but you to be happy. And I know that being happy means being with Harry.”

You were about to object but Emma shook her head no. “When I saw you guys last night, it was obvious how much you guys loved each other. Anyone could clearly see that. When I saw you guys kiss, I was rooting for the two of you. I really was. Harry, he’s a good guy. And you deserve nothing but that. It broke my heart when I saw you run away. And when I saw how devastated Harry was? I thought that was it. I had to get you guys to understand that you guys had to come together, not run away. I know he’s hurt you. But you’ve hurt him too. Talk to him, make things right, allow yourself to be happy.”

By the end of Emma’s speech, you had her pulled into a tight hug. Emma smiled as she hugged you back. You pulled back from the hug as you smiled at Emma. “Thank you for that.”


Harry was sitting down at his assigned table, an untouched plate of food in front of him. He was watching Emma and her dad sharing their father-daughter dance until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head to find you standing behind him.

“H? Can we talk?”


thank you guys so much for reading! i’ve been getting nothing but sweet and kind messages about this series and when the next part was going to be posted. i hope i did everyones justice! lol i love hearing from you guys! definitely let me know what you guys thought/ want to see happen next! all the love, t. 

you can find the rest of my writing here

you can find part 7 here

fun fact: for my mom’s wedding two years ago, she walked down to a thousand years lol 

theragingthespian  asked:

if you're feeling it pal, supercorp and dancing. but tbh, i'll read anything you're up to writing

She realized she was in trouble sometime between Alex telling her that she had proposed to Maggie and the moment she helped with sending out the invitations—and by help she meant that she saved Alex and Maggie a small fortune on postage by delivering the invitations herself.

Or perhaps she realized she was in trouble when Alex sat her down one afternoon—many, many months after the Daxamite invasion—and told her that she needed help choosing a song to dance to.

(“Can it be ‘N Sync?” Kara had asked, laughing when Alex didn’t even acknowledge her question.

“Maggie got all the fun jobs,” she’d muttered petulantly. “Choosing venue and catering is easy but everyone’s going to judge the first song we dance to.”

“I’ll judge if the food isn’t good,” Kara had tried helpfully. Alex didn’t deign to dignify that with a response.)

Though really, she realized she was in trouble when Winn helpfully pointed out that Kara couldn’t dance.

Keep reading

Costar || C.S.

Originally posted by immortalle

Word Count: 1936

Pairing: Cole Sprouse x reader

Summary: You have real feelings for your costar, but you’re afraid that people might call you unprofessional. You decide to ask Cole himself what he thinks about the situation, and his answer is not what you were expecting.

Warnings: smut, not hardcore but still smut, a little cussing, cute Cole, being in love with Cole

Requested by anon:

“I know you already had a request for Cole smut but I’m so thirsty for it, help your girl out??”

“lordchild I know I know Cole is “bad” but THAT SCENE was so god damn hot, I know you’re writing Ross smut next but you’re so good at smut, please write Cole/jughead smut? Please boo?”

Part 1 (Ross Butler) // Part 2 (Kj Apa)

Masterlist


His smile is what drove you to do what you do every day. His soft laugh would fill up a room with so much joy, you couldn’t stop from smiling yourself. His eyes would twinkle in the light when he would think of a terrible joke that would be so bad that everyone couldn’t help but laugh.

But nevertheless, he could never truly be yours. He was your costar, Cole Sprouse. It would be incredibly unprofessional to admit to anyone your feelings. Even if you did, they would say it wasn’t real that it was just your mind’s habit.

You and Cole work together in very intimate ways this season on Riverdale. The previous season’s ship, Bughead, had sunk due to several reasons and your character and Jughead had begun to have a very casual relationship.

It was hard for you going from kissing him to pretending you were just friends. But, maybe they were right. Maybe, it was just your mind connecting kissing to real feelings. Or they could be completely wrong, this wasn’t your first rodeo after all and you never felt this way with any of the other actors you had to be in an on-screen relationship with.

You never had butterflies in your stomach when they looked you directly in the eyes, or when they pulled you close while taking pictures at a convention. They never made fireworks explode under your skin when they dragged their fingers along your arm. You couldn’t hold in your feelings for much longer. You were itching to tell someone, and who better to tell than the person who makes you feel this way.

Sitting in your trailer, you decided it was time to ask him yourself and get his opinion on the matter. You grabbed your jacket and walked across the lot to find his trailer, texting him to tell him you were on your way over. Lili was the only other cast member on set today and she was filming currently, so there wouldn’t be any distractions.

As you opened the trailer door, you took a deep breath and steadied your racing heartbeat. Cole was sitting on the small couch in the corner of the room, scrolling through his phone. He looked up with a large smile that reached his eyes, and it just solidified your feelings.

You took a seat beside him and started to make small talk, you weren’t just going to jump into this. You had to build up to it to make sure not to make it awkward.

“Cole, you know my friend, Blair, right?” You fidgeted around nervously, wanting this to go over smoothly.

“The one with brown hair, right?” He questioned with his eyebrows scrunching up.

You nodded in response before continuing, “She came to me last night in distress. She’s currently working on the second season of her show,” you paused to look over at him. He had a focused look on his face like he usually did when you told a story. “Well, like I said she came over to my house last night so confused. She rambled on forever before she finally told me what was bothering her.”

You were about to continue before Cole interrupted, “With Blair? I’ve met her like twice, but from those encounters, I could probably guess it was about one of her shoes braking.” He chuckled and you joined him because it sounded just like her.

“Close guess,” You laughed and he smiled back, “But not quite. It was actually some boy trouble. Yeah, she has completely fallen in love, or so she thinks, with her costar.”

Cole nodded in response, “Well, has she told him about said feelings?”

“No, she is afraid that he won’t take her seriously since they have an on-screen relationship.” You paused to get his input.

“Why would she think this? How does she think he will handle the situation?” Cole leaned back against the couch.

“Well, since they have romance on-screen, she is afraid that he will say that it’s just her mind trying to comprehend kissing someone that she didn’t have feelings before they started to do intimate things.”

“Well, if I remember correctly, this isn’t her first on-screen romance, is it?” Cole questioned while holding eye contact.

“No, you’re right. I brought up the same point to her, but she insists that this time is different, that the way he makes her feel is really real.” You turned completely around and leaned your back against the side of the small couch.

“Really? What did she say about him?” He inquired.

“She said that the way he makes her feel when he places his hands on her body is like nothing she had ever felt before. That even when he says her name, that sparks fly in a way no one has ever been able to make her feel before.” You confessed. You felt as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Telling Cole how you really feel about him, even if you’re using Blair as a coverup, makes you feel like you can finally move on.

“I think that she should tell him, just confess it all. Put herself out there. So what if people might think it’s unprofessional? Being in a real relationship with your coworker is frowned upon by the majority of people, but fuck them. Look at Miley Cyrus and Liam Hemsworth or Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher, no one is saying shit now that they are happily married and in love.”

That was not the answer you were looking for. You were hoping that he would say that it was just mind games, that she should wait it out. You were second guessing everything you thought you wanted to do. Should you listen to his advice for Blair? After all, that might not be what he wants for himself, what if it’s just what he would want to see. Your thoughts were interrupted when Cole started to talk again.

“And when did you say she came over?” He had a mischievous look in his eyes, but you wrote it off as him enjoying the drama.

“Last night, after I left set, she came over almost immediately. I was so drained from a long day at set that I couldn’t give her a proper answer, so that’s why I’m asking you.”

“Really? Because last night Lili said you spent the night at her house because you were too tired to drive?” Cole looked like he was enjoying this, but you were sure that you had a look of horror on your face.

“Did I say last night?” You chuckled, “I meant sometime last week.” You tried to play it cool but Cole wasn’t buying it at all.

Cole scooted closer to you and brought his hand to your cheek and you leaned into it without thinking about it, “C’mon, admit it. Admit that I give you that rush.”

You were still unsure on how you wanted to handle the situation, so you denied it, “I just got the time mixed up.”

“Then tell me to stop,” Cole said as he leaned slowly into you, “If you weren’t using Blair as a cover up and you feel nothing right now, tell me to stop and I will.”

You were completely frozen, you couldn’t believe this was happening. Coming to set today, you were expecting the opposite of this. You didn’t know what you should do, but you knew you did not want to move from this spot.

Cole’s lips connected to yours and it was more than you could ever dream of. His lips felt soft against yours, and the kiss was tender and kind. Cole pulled away after a minute, but you left your eyes closed.

“Please, Cole,” You mumbled, not really knowing what you were saying.

Cole placed his lips back on yours, answering your plea. This kiss was different than the first, it had more urgency behind it, but it was just as sweet.

Cole placed his hand in the crook of your neck and pulled you close to him. You placed your legs on either side of his waist without breaking your lips from his. You wrapped your fingers in his dyed hair and tugged slightly.

As things started to heat up, you pulled his shirt over his head. You peppered kisses down his neck and on his chest. He leaned his head back against the couch and let out a sigh, trying to catch his breath.

You started to tug on his belt, but Cole placed his hands on top of yours and looked into your eyes, “Are you sure you want to? I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

You felt so giddy, looking into his eyes, that question just confirmed your feelings for him. “Yes. Take me, I’m yours.”

Cole smiled back at you while taking your top off. He pulled you down so he could kiss your neck while one hand massaged your boob through your bra, making you moan his name.

You brought your lips back to his while you unbuckled his belt and tugged on his pants. He lifted his lower half to pull his pants down to his ankles and he took his boxers with it.

“You’re wearing too much clothing for my liking.” Cole joked which made you chuckle as you stood up to take your shorts off.

“You’re beautiful, Princess, come here.” He said in a deep voice. You did as you were told and took your seat on his lap. You connected your lips again and you felt your heart melt when his tongue entered your mouth.

Without taking his lips off yours, he signaled for you to rise so he could line up with your core. You slowly lowered on to him, and let out a deep moan. Cole closed his eyes and opened his mouth like he was going to grunt, but no noise came out.

You adjusted to his size before you started to move slowly up and down. Cole helped guide you with his hands on your hips. You continued the slow pace as Cole whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“Fuck, gorgeous, you look so good from this angle.” You grunted in response before a knot started to build in the pit of your stomach, and you started to move faster.

Cole grunted under you at the change of pace and started to meet your bounces with his thrusts, and soon you were clouded with pleasure. You swore you were seeing stars as you started to go a little bit faster.

“Cole, fuck, please,” You mumbled barely able to form a coherent sentence.

“Are you close, princess?” Cole grunted between two moans, signaling he was feeling as much pleasure as you were.

“Yes, fuck.” You leaned your head back and closed your eyes before you felt Cole’s hand bringing your face close to his.

“Come for me.” With those words, he sent you over the edge and your toes curled as he continued to thrust up into your convulsing body.

Your orgasm sent Cole into his bliss. He was mumbling word fragments as a sense of euphoria took over. You bounced slightly to let him ride out his pleasure.

You both were sweaty, panting messes and you climbed off him and felt an emptiness as you took a seat next to him.

“Cole?”

“Yeah?”

“Blair wasn’t having boy trouble, it was me.”

He let out a laugh that made you chuckle as well, “I’m not going to say I told you so, but I knew it.”


a/n: I’m back and I finally finished this miniseries! Sorry for not uploading for a while, its summer break and all I want to do is nothing lol. Tell me what you think about this or any of my other writings in my inbox! Also, requests are open, but by popular demand, part two for “Bet” will be next!

Forgetful

Word Count: 1,380
Reader Gender: Female i guess idk 

Warnings: Jealousy, arguement, him arguing with other girls, cursing

Love Interest: Peitro Maximoff
Note: There is a 200000/10 chance that there will be a second part

Originally posted by marvelprincesspants

Originally posted by sad--princes

I crossed my arms as I glared at him, waiting for him to finish his little show. Anger and irritation bubbled inside of me, and I mentally cursed myself for trusting him enough to leave him alone. I go into the shop for five fucking minutes, and I come out to this shit. I tried pulling him away from the girls that were flirting with him, but it just shrugged me off. The worst part about the whole thing? He was flirting back.

His ass was flirting with other people and he was loving it. I’m not sure if he got the memo, but he’s not single anymore. He’s in a relationship with me, and I have half a mind to kick his ass. I clutched harder at the plastic bag that was in my hand, the contents were requested by none other than the douche himself. I grunted, deciding that he wasn’t going to finish anytime soon. I walked up to him, gripping his shoulder and turning him around.

“We’re leaving.” I said sternly.

“Who’s the slut?” One of the girls asked.

“I’m his girlfriend.” I spat, anger coursing through me.

“Oh really? Then why is he over here?” Another girl asked.

“Slut.” The first one said.

“Pornhub called, honey, they say your resume is too extensive.” I spat.

“I’m not going anywhere, why don’t you find somewhere else to be.” Pietro offered in an annoyed tone.

“Fine,” I shoved the bag in his chest, walking away, “But you’re finding a new place to live.”

It didn’t take him long to appear at my side, but I didn’t acknowledge his existence. I was still beyond pissed at the little act he pulled moments ago. He wouldn’t like it if I did that stuff to him, he’d be pissed. I’d get my ear chewed off, so why does he think it’s okay for him to do it? I still had my arms crossed over my chest, a clear indication that I was angry. Despite my body language, he still tried to talk to me.

He said that he was confused, which just pissed me off even more. What the hell does he mean? He doesn’t get to be confused, he gets to feel like an ass. I sent a glare his way, instantly shutting him up. I looked away from him, rolling my eyes and focusing on getting home. I’ll deal with him there, right now I’m too angry to talk to him. He didn’t even stand up for me, he just let them trash talk me.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”Pietro shouted as I closed the door to the apartment.

“Oh, I don’t know, my boyfriend just completely forgot that my ass existed. Forgive me if I’m a little pissed off.” I glared, flipping him off.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“You were flirting with those girls! I heard you the entire time! One of them was even talking dirty to you!” I yelled, “God, Pietro, where do you draw the line?!”

“You’re just being jealous and oversensitive.” Pietro said, walking past me.

“I’m not any of those things! I’m just worried that maybe my boyfriend is cheating on me!” I yelled, feeling the anger mix with betrayal.

“I can’t help it, Y/n! The ladies like me, get over it. I’m not going to stop just because some worthless little girl doesn’t like it.” He spat, glaring at me.

I was silent for a moment, absorbing his words completely. Is that all I was to him? Just some little girl? Not his girlfriend or anything? My brows furrowed, and I took his words to heart. He can’t just get over himself for two seconds to listen to me? I took in a deep breath, realizing that his opinion on this matter wasn’t going to be changing anytime soon. I saw his face soften, and I wiped the tears away from my eyes.

“Worthless?” I questioned.

“Oh, come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.” He reasoned.

“Then how did you mean it?” I asked quietly, but he didn’t respond, “That’s what I thought.”

With that, I quickly walked into the bedroom that him and I shared. I got out the suitcase that I took with me on extended missions. I started packing my things, no longer feeling welcome in here. I took a deep breath, sadness now kicking in rather than anger. I sighed, shaking my head as I shoved more clothes into the suitcase. I heard Pietro enter the room, thanks to the small breeze of wind that had picked up out of nowhere.

“What are you doing?” Pietro questioned.

“I am taking my worthless self out of here so you can continue living your wonderful life as a bachelor.” I said, zipping up the suitcase.

“You can’t leave me, Y/n. I love you, don’t do this to me.” He pleaded.

“Love me? You’ve been flirting and getting random chicks numbers the entire time you’ve been dating me, you don’t stand up for me when they insult me, then you call me a worthless little girl, and you have the audacity to say you love me?” I questioned, narrowing my eyes.

“Please, just stay with me.” He pleaded, and I sighed as I looked into his eyes.

He looked like a lost puppy on a rainy day.

“Do you promise to stop flirting with people that aren’t me?” I questioned, slightly hopeful.

“I,” He stuttered, “I don’t.” He trailed off and I shook my head, laughing dryly.

“It’s nice to know that the man I’ve been dating for 3 years doesn’t love me enough to actually act like he’s dating me.” I said, moving past him and to the door.

“You don’t understand.” Pietro said, blocking the door.

“I understood clearly when you called me worthless,” Tears formed, “I understood when you flirted with the other girls and acted like you didn’t know me,” My voice broke, “And I understood when you couldn’t even promise you’d stop. I’m not good enough, and I never will be.”

“Just give me another chance, Princessa.” He said, cupping my cheeks.

“Pietro, don’t you get it?” I removed his hands from my face, “I’m exhausted! I’m mentally and physically drained from trying to take the pressure and the hurt of your actions. From arguing with you over the same things. I’ve given you dozens of chances.” I huffed, and he went silent.

I shoved him out of the way, walking out and slamming the door shut. Tears fell from my eyes as I left the complex, my suitcase on my shoulders like it was a backpack. The weight of the entire event settled onto my mind, and I angrily wiped my eyes. I didn’t expect him and I to actually end, but if he thinks I’m not good enough for him then I’ll leave him be. I know when to push, and when to walk away, and today it was the ladder.

I found myself walking to Tony’s place, which was the only place I felt like I could go right now. Questions swam through my mind, drowning out everything else. Had he been cheating on me? When did he decide that I wasn’t good enough? I was just so tired of fighting to keep him, and fighting to make him see that what he was doing was wrong. I was emotionally exhausted, and, in turn, it made me physically exhausted.

“What are you doing here?” Tony asked, not looking at me as I entered the room.

“I,” I took a deep breath, “I was hoping I could stay here for a little while.”

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He turned around, hearing the sadness in my voice.

“It’s nothing.” I shook my head as he came closer.

“Well, I’d love to hear about nothing.” He joked.

“We broke up.” I held back a cry.

“What? Why? Do I need to kill him?” Tony asked, visibly concerned.

“He just makes me exhausted.” You sighed.

“Well, how about you have a seat and I’ll pour us some drinks?” He offered.

“What’s the price?” I eyes him.

“Dirt, details, blackmail.” He stated, turning around and going to get a couple glasses.

“So the usual?” I questioned, sitting down.

Tom Holland x Reader: Apartment

Summary: You and Tom Holland are neighbors in the same apartment complex. You have a crush on him, he has a girlfriend. What could go wrong? You could think of five separate incidents.

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 7,132


No 1: the coffee maker incident (which was all harrison’s fault)

The moment your knuckles leave the door it’s already swinging back, revealing a face flushed with relief. Tom Holland’s eyes flutter closed, leaning his head against the door frame and looking up at you through his lashes with a smile plastered on his face.

“Oh thank god you actually came. You’re good at fixing things, right?” he asked, ushering you into his apartment before hearing your answer. You’re a little reluctant to enter, thinking that you’ll somehow track mud across his pristine white carpet, or smudge a stain on his suede chairs that weren’t in there the last time you’d been over.

“I’m good at putting Ikea furniture together, if that’s what you mean,” you call after him as you hop around on one foot, attempting to slide your boots off without appearing like a fool. You look around once more, taking in the features of Tom’s place.

You can’t say you like what he’s done. There are too many colors; blues and yellows that are too bold, an abundance of throw pillows against a couch that you swear your parents had gushed over in a Rooms-To-Go catalog. None of it looks like him, and you have an inkling as to why, but you keep your mouth shut as you follow the sound of two voices into his kitchen.

“You help me with my T.V all the time. Are you good with stuff like this?” Tom inquires, looking at you over his shoulder. He’s standing in front of something, hunched over the island in the center of the room. On his left, staring at you over his mug, Harrison is sipping away on something.

There’s a smug look in his blue eyes that makes you want to tip his drink onto his shirt, but instead you ignore him, standing on Tom’s right. In front of you is a simple small coffee maker; not a Keurig, but something akin, you could imagine.

“What’s wrong with it?” you question, looking around the top and sides for damage. Tom has his knuckle in his mouth, looking worriedly at the device in front of him. You’ve never seen such an anxious look on his face and it makes your brows crease. “Tom?”

“Hm?” he says, snapping his eyes back to you. The normally sparkling brown hues are muddy, clouded with something you can’t identify. “It’s just… I don’t know what’s wrong with it. I noticed it was out of water and I went to refill it, but when I pressed the button, it wouldn’t make anything.”

Perplexed, you flipped open the lid, seeing nothing wrong. You checked the coffee ground compartment, seeing a pierced, but otherwise unused k-cup sitting in there. With crossed arms, you pressed the power button again, just to be certain.

The three of you watched as the machine’s light started to blink. You cut your eyes over to Tom, wondering what kind of stunt he was pulling. Opening your mouth to speak, you were cut off by the red light blinking out, only for nothing else to happen.

“See!” Tom cried out, fisting his hands in his hair. It curled out of his fist, making two small pony tails at the top of his head. Your eyes narrowed, realizing just how much his hair had grown in the past few months. You hadn’t seen too much of him to have a decent comparison, but you remembered it being much shorter.

“—just wait till she comes home and sees this broken! She’s going to kill me!” Your heart drops into your stomach, limbs suddenly feeling heavy. The coffee maker belonged to his girlfriend. You nodded, now understanding why he had sounded so urgent when he’d called you.

“You’re fucking Spider-Man, ya? Just go out and buy a new one with all that Marvel money,” Harrison pointed out, rolling his eyes as he took another sip of his drink. “She won’t even know the difference.”

“They don’t even make this stupid model anymore, she’s going to know it’s broken. And I didn’t even break it!” he exclaimed, his voice shaking with worry. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to calm the hell down, that’s what,” you chided, resting your hands on Tom’s shoulders. He relaxed under your touch, walking backwards as you steered him onto a bar stool. “It’s not the end of the world, dude, just breathe,” you reminded him, watching as his chest heaved heavily. Your hands felt warm as they slid down his arms, coming to rest on the island as you examined the coffee maker.

You drained it of its water, checking the main compartment for any irregularities. Immediately you noted a white film around the sides, and you paused, looking from the sink, to the device, and finally at Harrison.

“Harrison? What are you drinking?” you asked, pulling your phone from your back pocket and shining the flashlight down to the bottom.

“Hot chocolate,” he replied carefully, eyes darting between you and Tom. Peering down, you carefully wiped your finger against the bottom of the compartment, your nails scratching against a hard surface, coated with something.

“Haz, there’s no pot in the sink, or in the dishwasher. What—HAZ!” Tom growled, having put the pieces together. “Did you put milk in the coffee maker?”

“I mean, yeah,” he admitted a not-so-guilty look across his face. “It was sitting right there, and it was faster than heating up a pot.”

“Ah-ha,” you chuckled, closing one eye to look down into the coffee maker. “That would explain this weird shit covering the bottom of this thing.” You gave a pointed look at Harrison, who hadn’t even tried to look remorseful. “You do realize that when you don’t clean up heated milk, it leaves a hard coating on metal. This coffee maker basically has a hot plate that boils the water and then sucks in into a tube. My best guess it that the milk hardened, and the water can’t get through,” you assessed.

“Well how do we fix it?” Tom asked, crossing his arms and looking at you. He seemed to believe you had all the answers, and you bit your lip to hold back you stutters. You didn’t want to disappoint him, to make him think you weren’t the person for the job.

Cutting your eyes over at Harrison, you gave him a pointed look; you made it look reprimanding, but it was really to wipe the smirk off his face. He’d had a smug look since the moment you walked in and it bothered you, making the tips of your ears feel hot.

“Well for starters, don’t do it again,” you bit out, glaring daggers at Harrison. He didn’t reply, but he did walk out of the room, shrugging his shoulders as he walked behind you.

Tom noted the fixed stares you gave him, but said nothing of it. You pursed your lips before looking at the brunette, holding out your hand and asking for a knife.

He blinked, warily pulling out a butter knife and placing it into your palm. You frowned at it, turning it over in your hands. “I need a sharper one.”

Tom raised a brow, hazel eyes glimmering with suspicion. You snorted, wondering if he was actually afraid of you with a knife.

“What, you think I’m going to kill you or something?” You joked. You wondered for a moment if your joke was too dark for a guy who was just your neighbor, but he eventually chuckled, handing you a knife with a sharp, long blade. You gave him your phone, and asked him to shine it down into the machine. Silently, with the two of your heads close together, you both bowed your heads with work to do.

This was an awkward fifteen minutes. Every now and then Tom would pick his eyes up and watch as your face scrunched in concentration. Your lips would part as an almost inaudible curse passed through, making him laugh a bit. Every time you felt him move you would try not to catch his gaze, attempting to discreetly look at him. You could feel how close he was and it felt wrong that your heart was beating so fast, or that you couldn’t breathe.

After what felt like hours, you retracted, taking the machine to the sink to wash it out. You filled it and plugged it back in, waiting patiently with a mug as you started it.

Tom looked as though he was holding a breath, and sure enough, when the coffee streams out he sighed, leaning against the counter with his entire weight, looking as though he’s been saved from the fires of hell.

He turns, eyes shining in praise as he gushed a bunch of rushed thank you’s, his accent slurring everything together. You’re really just nodding and smiling, telling him that it’s fine and no big deal. You’ll tell yourself anything to get rid of the hammering in your chest, louder than construction work as you feel blood rush to your face.

“I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.” He sounds like he’s speaking about your presence in general, but that can’t be true. All you’ve ever done for him was put together furniture and now fix his coffee maker, but he seems to like you, as a friend and neighbor. Which you’ll take.

“It’s no problem at all Tom. And it’ll be less of a problem if I can have this,” you pull the mug away, bringing the rich black coffee to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Do you want to stay for a bit? I feel like you’re always in and out, and-“ his words die as his cell phone rings, the ringtone that default sound that makes you jump. He takes it, holding his hand up apologetically, but you shake your head. You weren’t going to stay anyways.

Grabbing your things, you pass Harrison, who looks pretty comfortable on a couch that isn’t his, sipping on the last of his hot chocolate. He smiles when you walk by, but it’s a knowing one, as though he can read your thoughts. You scoff, but before you can get your shoes back on, Harrison says, “You should be thanking me.”

That really riles you up, and you laugh, a forced, sarcastic thing. “For what?”

“If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be making any moves.” There’s a wink, but you don’t really care to return his comment. You strain out a “Bye, Harrison,” before closing the door and leaning your back against it.

The cup in your hand is scorching your palm, but you smile regardless. Another reason to knock on Tom’s door. 


No. 2: The incident where you meet his girlfriend and things go wrong

You had this sick feeling in your gut that toady wasn’t the best day to bring back the mug you borrowed from Tom. It was simply the day after, the most reasonable time to drop by and say, “hey, I forgot I took this” without seeming like you harbored it, or cast a spell on it. The little thing sat neatly in your hands, cradled gently as though it was made of crystal.

Your knock was verging on two minutes ago, so you decided to go again, wondering briefly if you should say his name. Calling him may have been a bad idea, but before you could form his name, the door swung back, revealing a brunette that was not Tom.

His girlfriend’s caramel colored hair was a cascade of freshly made curls, evident from the fact that her makeup and outfit were already complete. She lacked shoes, and a sense of hospitality, sizing you up like bully on a playground. When she reached your eyes, you balked, deciding whether it was better to state your purpose, or just drop the item near her feet and scram.  

It would have been much easier for her as well, until Tom caught your eyes from farther behind her. “Y/N?” he questioned, but excitedly, as though he was happy to see you. That made his girlfriend’s lip curl into a sneer, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Oh, uh,” you started, wanting so bad to bolt, but transfixed by Tom’s smile and gentle demeanor. He was dressed, indicating that he was probably going out. And from the progress they both had on their outfits, you could guess it was possible they were going on a lunch date.

You felt foolish, your heart drooping in your chest as you resigned yourself to stick with the plan. What did you expect, that his girlfriend would just magically be missing every time you came into his apartment? A dumb idea, one fueled by your fluttering heart, but also by your jealous mind.

“I accidentally took this last time I was here. Sorry,” you said, holding the cup out to the girl. She dropped her eyes to the cup, but made no moves to take it from you. Her hands stayed rooted on the door, and you felt like you could melt under her scrutinizing gaze.

Tom saved you, however, taking the cup from your hands with care, wrapping his hand around it. Your hands brushed each other’s, and your fingertips felt so warm and fiery, igniting your nerves in flames. You looked up to send him a smile, but you caught the look his girlfriend gave you.

Her blue eyes startled you, being so wide and so angry at the same time. Her perfect nails seemed to dent into the metal door as she gripped it with all her might. Her posture was rigid, feet set apart in a fighting stance. You thought her unoccupied hand was going to reach out and punch your teeth out.

The silent threat made you jump, the ware slipping from your fingers and smashing to the floor before you had time to react. You could only pull your feet away and watch in horror as it fell on its handle, small shards of grey porcelain scattering across the floor.

You want to cry, curl up beside the shards and be swept away into a dust bin, you’re so mortified. To your right, she’s smiling a little, resting her hand on Tom’s shoulder as she proceeds to ask if he’s okay. She tiptoes to look over his shoulder, as though she wasn’t standing feet away when it happened. Milking the moment, you catch the glint in her eyes when she rubs his back, saying that she’ll get a broom.

Tom nods, saying a faint, “okay babe,” before he’s taken aback by the kiss she plants on his cheek. You note the pink mark it’s left, a small, but powerful reminder that he’s taken, and that no matter how shy and polite and cute and neighborly you are, there’s nothing you can do about it.

She casts a look that is part sinister and part mocking over her shoulder, but it turns into surprise as the door closes, Tom stepping out into the hall. He’s got his hands behind his back as the door clicks shut, leaving the two of you in the hall.

“Sorry about that, I don’t know how that happened.” He rubs the back of his neck now, as if he’s really considering the idea that he might have done this.

“No, you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who broke it, I should be cleaning it up, I,” your head is fixed towards the ground, unable to meet his gaze. You really just want to walk away, but it was hard, with him so close to you, his height and yours almost the same. There’s no need for tilted heads when every time you look up, it’s just his eyes on yours, and it makes you so frustrated.

“I’m really sorry about this, I promise I’ll get you another one.” In some really nice universe, this is the part where Tom chuckles and says “You don’t have to do that. Just go on a date with me and we’re even.”

But this is not a nice universe. It’s not even close. This universe is horrible and cruel, laughing at your pitiful crush on a taken British boy and your shitty attempts at being his friend.

This universe sucks, so you leave him with that half assed promise and run down the stairs, not looking back as he calls your name.


 No. 3: the incident where you hear something you shouldn’t have (but always wanted to know)

It’s late, and probably your own fault that you’re miserable and at home and have to watch a fucking slideshow about Roswell, New Mexico. The lights are mostly off in your apartment, save for three little hanging lights above your kitchen counter. One sole bottle of Heineken is untouched, probably warm since your friend left over two hours ago for her date.

And now, with a pounding headache and an impossibly bad mood, you felt your limit snap as loud shouts and a bumping bass sounded from Tom’s apartment. He wasn’t a rowdy guy, and his girlfriend didn’t seem like the type to annoy the neighbors at ten pm, but you could think of a certain blonde that would.  

It had been weeks after ‘the breaking of the mug’, weeks of building back the confidence to look Tom in the eyes, and weeks of him being crazy nice to you. He was always asking you to come over, wanting to make up for how bad your last encounter was. Eventually you both settled back into a comfortable friendship, but that only persisted as long as his girlfriend wasn’t around.

After another week of that arrangement, you felt guilty, almost as though you were doing something forbidden. You remembered the shame and palpable tension in the room that occurred every time she came home to find the two (or three, there was no way she could get rid of Harrison) inside. Almost any conversation would drop, and you would leave, giving him a curt goodbye.

It was dumb, it was strenuous and it was so unnecessary. But it felt exciting.

You swallowed that excitement down fast, knowing that there was nothing between you two. You were neighbors, and finally friends; you weren’t going to ruin it because of your unrequited crush on him.

The pounding in your head increased when you heard with clarity and annoyance the repetitive yell of shots. The song seemed to shake your entire apartment and you growled, stomping over and banging on Tom’s door with your fist.

“Hey! It’s a fucking Thursday night!” you yelled, despite your normal timid manner. You seriously just wanted to fall straight asleep and head to work tomorrow and make a final decision on this location. You were losing time and patience and the capacity to care when a face split into a wide grin upon seeing you at the door.

“Hey hey, Y/N!” Harrison’s blue eyes were unfocused and shiny, his smile too big for his face. He stumbled to grab your arm, his grip much tighter as he used all his strength to pull you in.

“Guys, look who I found!” The word “guys” had you at unease, but you surveyed the people around you carefully. You would know the Spider-Man cast anywhere, and Tom’s apartment was definitely a place where you’d seen them the most.

Tony and Jacob both had on tilted ball caps, and when Tony ran to hug you it fell off. “Oh thank god you’re hear Y/N!” he hiccuped, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Our man Tom has something to tell you.”

The room dissolved into giggles. It sounded like a first grade classroom, their laughter so innocent and playful. The only boy who didn’t seem to be partaking in the fun was Tom, his lips set in a pout as he shoved Jacob weakly.

“Knock it off, boys,” he told them his voice sharp against theirs. He didn’t appear to be as drunk as they were, but the goofy grin that followed proved otherwise.

After another round of laughter, you tried to shrug Tony away from you, but he was heavier without full control over his body. You felt uncomfortable being around four drunk men, who were all stronger than you. Despite knowing that they meant well, the entire situation read badly.

“Tony, please get off me,” you mumbled, which seemed to earn his attention. He stood up straight, raising his arm up mechanically. You took a step back, holding your arms to make yourself small. “Guys, I get that you’re having fun, but I have work to finish, so can you-“

“You’re a location scout, right?” Jacob asks in the moment of lucidity. You nod, watching warily as Jacob stands, holding his hand out to you.

“Jacob Batalon, best actor in this room. If you’re ever in a pinch for actors, you know where to find me.”

“Jacob,” you said slowly, your handshake becoming too long. “We’ve met before.”

“Best actor in the room? Tom has a fucking BAFTA!” Harrison argued over the music, but you both paid no mind to him.

“Uh, I think I’d know if I met anyone as pretty as you. At least, I think you are. I can’t really see, but you’re Y/N, right?”

“Jacob,” you sighed, exasperated. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you were halfway to launching into an explanation before he cut you off.

“Tom’s been going off about this Y/N girl. She lives across the street or something. I’m like, Tom, dude, amigo. How do you know if she’s pretty if she’s all the way over there?” He pointed out the window and you frowned, wondering just what in the world he was on about.

“Jacob I know you! I live next door.” He snapped his fingers loudly, looking back at Tony with wide eyes.

“Tony! It’s the girl, the one Tom mmhmm-“ Harrison covered Jacob’s mouth with his hands, trying to sit him back down. You raised a brow, looking between the four of them before sighing.

“Clearly I’m not getting anything through to you, so I’ll just do it myself.” You huffed, turning to what you believed was the source of the booming music. A stack of black rectangular sound systems sat on a shelf below Tom’s T.V, each of them appearing to be on. In the background, yelling had ensued, with Jacob’s mouth finally free of Harrison’s grip. You paid no mind as you decided to simply turn the volume down. You twisted the dial a little too far, making the music so quiet, that their shouts became clearer.

“Why the hell not! You’re not going to have any other chance!”

“Your girlfriend dumped you, now is the perfect time to tell her!”

“And say what? ‘Hey Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since the day we met’?”

It kept going, not even missing a beat as the four boys started piling shout after shout on top of the others. You, however, had your hands over your mouth, slowly rising to stand up. Your mind tried to process the words in the order you heard them in, making sure it matched what you thought. Your heart felt like it would leap from your chest, knees knocking as you struggled to understand.

Tom liked you. He had since the day you met. And he didn’t plan on telling you.

It was news to you that his girlfriend was no more, but even bigger than that was the idea that each of his friends already knew that he was in love with you. That sentiment seemed like common knowledge, considering its blunt outburst hadn’t shocked anyone to silence.

Suddenly Harrison’s cheeky winks and Tom’s bright smiles seemed more than just coincidences. You wanted to run up to Tom and tell him that you felt the same way, that he meant more to you than just a neighbor or a friend. You felt your heart clench as you realized that those words were never meant to be presented like this. You weren’t supposed to know.

In some nice universe Tom would tell you over another shared mug of coffee, or an a first date somewhere sweet and thoughtful. In some nice universe you could kiss him for saying that, and he’d kiss you back.

But this was not some nice universe, and this shit always happened. You let yourself out, sliding back against the cold metal door and letting out a sob that had been working its way through your chest.

Perhaps that nice universe would only ever be a daydream


No. 4: the incident where the tables have turned

Not but two days after the drunken episode, you walked up the stairs to find Tom, sitting outside his apartment like a lost puppy. He bounced his phone on one knee, the other keeping his forehead up as he scrolled through his phone. After a moment he locked it, turning his head to see you, dazed and confused.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his loud voice reminding you of Thursday night, and the deflated way he had yelled your name, saying that he was in love with you. You were starting to believe it; you could see his eyes light up whenever they found you, a small but genuine smile tilting his lips upward. For someone who had just lost a significant other, Tom seemed pretty much in one piece.

Maybe because you were the one seeing him.

Nevertheless, you raised an eyebrow in silent question, to which Tom sheepishly smiled. “I seem to have locked myself out of my own apartment,” he told you, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. He was well cleaned up, considering the last time you’d seen him he was smashed beyond compare.

Before you even had the thought of stopping, you blurted, “Doesn’t your girlfriend have a key?”

It was like kicking a puppy; a small, adorable little puppy that only wanted your attention for half a second. The mirth drained out of his face and his eyes quickly dropped to the floor. His hands swung aimlessly by his side. You wanted to take it back, say you were sorry or that you forgot, but you weren’t even supposed to know in the first place.

“Alice and I broke up,” he sighed, and all you could think was ‘So her name was Alice.’

You tried to morph your face into sympathy and surprise, but you weren’t sure how well you pulled it off. “Oh, shit Tom, I’m sorry,” you expressed, wanting to reach out and touch his shoulder, but withholding yourself. Pretending you didn’t know about his feelings for you was so difficult, and you weren’t sure why. It wasn’t like you to be flirty or drop hints, but for some reason that was all you wanted to do: wrap your arms around him, tell him he’d be fine, and remind him that you were next door if he needed you.

In some nice universe that would work, but this wasn’t time or place.

“My spare key is with Harrison, surprise surprise,” Tom joked, which you smiled at.

“You’re never going to see that key again,” you laughed, bringing back a sliver of a smile to the man’s face. He looked better with it, you thought, doing nothing for the butterflies in your stomach. Your laughter calmed down enough for you to shrug. “You can come stay at my place until he gets here, if you don’t have anything to do.”

His eyes widened, but he hid it by raising his left brow. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“Considering it returning the favor. Besides, I’m always in your apartment. We need a change of scenery.” You unlocked your door, coming into your apartment with tense shoulders. Tom had never been in here before, and there was a reason for that. His presence in your apartment would gradually become less and less strange, making him just a part of your home than the couch or the curtains. You didn’t want him to be so familiar that it seemed like he belonged here, because he didn’t. He belonged in his nice white apartment, far away from whatever you had going on here.

There wasn’t much. You weren’t a minimalist, but you preferred less pillows and decorations than actual furniture. The colors were mostly neutral blues and greys, with red here or there. Along the walls were huge posters of cities you’d visited for work. Ashville, Slab City, Roswell, and other obscure towns were littered across your living room, and when you looked back you noticed Tom was staring at all of them.

“You’ve been to all these places?” he inquired, awe lacing his voice. You were shocked by his curiosity, considering he travelled all the time for his job. His face was fixed on the posters, before catching the little framed photos around the bookshelves. “Holy shit, is that you?”

He had the frame in his hand now, and judging from it, you were sure he was indulging himself in staring at a truly mortifying high school photo of yours. “Who are these people?” he pointed, and you grimaced.

“High school friends, if you couldn’t tell by our bad fashion choices,” you groaned, coming up beside him and studying the picture. You were in the middle, as you often were in group photos because everyone was taller than you. It didn’t particularly matter in this instance; you were squatting down, your hands clasped as if in prayer, staring down the camera with a smirk. Above you, four of your friends had lifted up the shortest girl in your group, perching her on their shoulders. It looked like a dysfunctional human pyramid.

“I don’t think I have a picture of me and my mates half as cool as this,” Tom remarked, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You think that’s cool? I think we were more crazy than cool,” you spoke wistfully, setting the picture back down. “I’m not even sure why I keep that around. It doesn’t really fit in with this whole thing,” you gestured wildly, pointing at the dozens of colorful photos. Tom’s eyes landed wherever your finger pointed, until the rested back on you.

“Which one of these is your favorite?” he asked, turning in a circle to view every landscape. You put a finger to your lips, eyeing each one carefully, until you landed on one filled with green and purple.

“I took this in Glasgow, about four years ago,” you stated, standing beside a quite large picture of a sprawling field of bluebells. “First time scouting overseas, and a studio needed pictures of old woods to use as concept art. I was with a senior photographer on this one, but he let me take the shots they eventually used.” You glanced up at the photo in reverence, before looking over to Tom.

His face expressed pure adoration, and you found that his eyes rested more so on you than the photo. He seemed to be in a trance, only snapped out of the daze a minute after you’d stopped talking. He tried to shake the grin off, but it was too late. So he went with it, smiling even wider.

“Wow. I’ve been to Scotland before, and I knew it was beautiful. But that?” he threw his hands down and you laughed at his gesture. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“You just have to know where to look. I know I never would have found this place if David wasn’t so familiar with Glasgow,” you told him, heading into the kitchen for drinks. “Next time, take someone who knows what to look for.”

“Maybe I should take you.” It was supposed to be mumbled under his breath, just a wish he kept to himself, but he let his guard down. You heard him, freezing as you stuck your head into the fridge, thanking the heavens that you had a cover for your burning face. You wanted to turn around and tell him yes; absolutely, positively, one-hundred-percent were you on board with going anywhere with him. You wanted to joke that you’d pack your luggage right then and there, that between two seasoned travelers like you, there was sure to be a discount somewhere.

But all you could do was force down the thoughts, grabbing two cokes from the fridge before pressing them to your face. You turned to Tom and smiled, a restrained, glowing thing that startled him, for he hesitantly stepped towards you.

“Maybe you should. Glasgow is one of my favorite places. I’d be happy to show you around.” You hoped you didn’t come off as anything other than friendly, but knowing the situation you were both in, there was no telling his response.

Tom just blinked, his face like a deer in headlights. Suddenly his face was tinted in pick and he smiled, looking down at his shoes bashfully. “I don’t know when we’d ever do it,” he commented, rooting you two back in the reality, the place where you both had jobs to do and obligations to others. But it had been nice, dreaming of Scotland with Tom. Perhaps it would come true.

There was a calm silence that settled in between the conversation, which was ripped away when Tom’s cell rang. He picked it up with reluctance, before making a face at the id. “Haz you better be downstairs or else I’m hanging up.” There was a bit of yelling on the other side, Harrison’s voice distorted by the traffic outside. Tom listened for a moment more before nodded, cutting his eyes over to you.

“Yeah, you can just open yourself, you’re always there anyways,” he quipped, ending the line before sighing. “Sorry, that was Haz, he’s here with my key.” Every word he said sounded breathless, a string of words in an almost incomprehensible British accent and an apology mixed in somewhere. You smiled, before jumping up.

“Oh! Before I forget,” you babbled, reaching into a packed kitchen cabinet for something. You stood on the tips of your toes, reaching for a turned handle before it landed gracefully in your palm. You smiled, handing it over to the dumbfounded man over the counter.

“What’s this?” he asked, turning over the red and blue designed cup. “Is this for me?”

“Yeah! I told you I was going to get you a new mug, I didn’t say what it would look like though.” You bit your lip, wondering if a Spider-Man mug was really the way to go in this situation. In addition to playing the wen head, you knew he had an affinity for the character as well, hoping the combined coincidences would lead him to like it.

He pressed it into his palms, turning it over in the daintiest of ways. He clutched it tight, as though he might break it from just breathing on it. When he picked his head up, you noted the watery glimmer in his brown eyes, which he tried his hardest to blink back. There were so many small things about Tom that made your heart flutter, but you didn’t have time to study them all.

“Thank you,” his small voice took you from your thoughts. “That was really sweet of you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” you relied firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “And I couldn’t live with myself if I never replaced it. Seriously, take it,” you told him, seeing as he was unwilling to leave with it. He stared at it a little while longer before he jolted, a buzzing sounding from his back pocket.

“Harrison’s here, I should, uh,” He stammered out, slowly taking some steps back. You nodded, giving him a slight wave and then headed back to the kitchen. You didn’t look up until you heard the door open, and then click shut, the air in your apartment much colder than it had been.

You stared around, wondering if you could find differences in your home now that Tom had been inside it. Your old theory was clearly correct, because your place had never felt so lonely and empty since you’d moved in. With a frown, you stared at the picture of Glasgow, wondering if in some other time and place, it was taken by you and Tom.


No.5: the incident where everything becomes clear

You actually burst into his apartment, a loud banging noise that sounds like it belongs in a movie. You’re too dramatic, and for reasons only you can understand.

Two heads turn, almost in sync. Blue eyes stare your form up and down, a quirk in his brows, while Tom just screams “Y/N!” It’s more of an exclamation that a question, which prompts Harrison to ask the obvious.

“What are you doing?” It’s so posh coming from him, the accent highlighting the annoyance in his voice. Or maybe it’s confusion, because he seems baffled not only by your presence, but by your urgency.

Tom doesn’t seem to mind. He’s got wide, shining eyes, and a posture that’s halfway out of the chair he was sitting in. He crosses the length between you two in an instant, throwing you off for a second before you regained proper footing.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, staring you down with those concerned brown hues of his. You wanted to take his face in your hands, and reveal your purpose for being here in the first place.

You were out of breath, from both being so close to him, and from running up three flights of stairs. After getting started on a scouting job earlier this week, you requested half the day off to start finalizing your travel plans. Within the next week you’d be flying into Tokyo and Hong Kong for a few days with Shanghai as a backup plan in case you didn’t get the shots you wanted.

You had been so psyched to start packing and start sharing about your trip, when you came across a moving truck in front of your complex. And lo and behold, you caught the sight of Alice, her arms full of those yellow throw pillows you had seen in his apartment all those weeks ago. Her blue eyes scanned the street until they came to rest on you, shouldering a hand bag that probably cost less than her foundation.

Her eyes turned to steel, lips curved in the most menacing grimace you’d ever seen. Her eyes appeared watery as you came closer, the grimace turning into a full-blown snarl the longer you stayed in her vicinity.

You practcally ran away, heart pounding out of fear. It wasn’t that Alice was mean or nasty towards you; it was that you could understand why she didn’t like you. You didn’t know the specifics of their breakup, but if you could guess, you figured Tom’s affection towards you might have played a factor in it.

The guilt burned your chest, but there was something else there you didn’t understand, something that led you to Tom’s unlocked door. In the awkward silence between you two, you wondered why it was unlocked, and why he didn’t seem to question why you were here. The longer he stared at you, the more your fingers itched, and the more you yearned to touch him.

So you pulled him out of the apartment, his feet tripping over the threshold as the door closed behind him. You caught a glimpse of Harrison’s face, blue eyes shining with mirth before he winked, clicking it shut. Tom turned his head to look back, but you grabbed his cheeks, making him face you.

He opened his mouth to ask something, but the question was caught it his throat. Your lips were suddenly on his, and he shifted closer to you, like it was an instinct. Like he got kissed by breathless girls outside his apartment on a daily basis.

His arms wrapped around your waist, before coiling tightly, his nails digging into your jacket. Your hands left his cheeks, instead falling to the nape of his neck, where you brushed small curls of hair with your knuckles. Everything about kissing Tom felt like fitting into a jigsaw puzzle; you knew exactly where everything went. From your hands to your chest to your lips, every part of you felt in place.

Tom eyes opened as he pulled back, gazing at you like he would a star in the sky. “Why did you do that?” His nearly inaudible voice was shaky, his hands running up and down your sides. He tried to still himself, but you could feel the skittish energy he was trying hard to contain.

You wound your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him. “I don’t actually know,” you told him seriously, a smile in your lips.

He tried to roll his eyes, but he too was smiling at you. “You just did it, because? Just because you could?”

“Because I’ve wanted to for a long time. Because you accidently said last Thursday that you were in love with me. And because I’m in love with you too.”

Tom’s arms dropped and he balked, watching you with a gaping mouth. “You heard that? You heard me say that?” he reiterated, looking you in the eye. When you nodded he groaned, placing his head in his hands. He refused to look at you when you coaxed him out of his shame.

“I can’t believe you knew that,” he muttered, his face turning redder by the second. You tiptoed up and kissed the crown of his head, causing him to peek at you through his fingers.

“I’m sorry you’re embarrassed, but if I didn’t know I’d never have the guts to kiss you,” you compromised, pulling his hands away from his face. “C’mon, this situation isn’t all bad.”

“It’s not bad at all, really,” he sighed, a content smile gracing his lips. “I mean, you did say you were in love with me too, right?”

“Do kisses not mean anything to you Brits? Is that just like, a thing you guys do?” You poked fun at him, earning another small peck on your lips to shut you up. You smiled and laughed, making it messy and causing his lips to end up short squish against your cheek. He rolled with it though, smothering your face with tiny little pecks, squeezing you tight in his arms.

From somewhere in the apartment, Harrison screamed “Finally!”

Superfamily Thing

Dad and pops were fighting again.


They had been for at least a week now. Peter was used to the occasional blowup for a night, maybe two, before they got all stupidly sappy with one another again.
This was new. Scary.

They avoided each other in the day and screamed at each other in the night when they thought he was asleep. Pops had been sleeping in the spare room for at least six of the seven nights it had been going on for. Dinner time had become a nightmare; Uncle Clint having to swap seats so he was sat in between them and prevent another fight from springing up while they ate.


He didn’t want them to split up. Divorced parents were a pain in the ass, according to the girl who sat next to him in math class. She was always talking about what a hassle it was, moving all her stuff from one house to another every weekend.

And it meant one of them would have to leave. Move out. Get a new life and a new partner and maybe even a new kid-

But Peter really didn’t want to think about that.


Today was the fifth day of Peter coming home to see only one of his parents in the kitchen, where there should usually be two. They tended to hang around, waiting for him in order to ambush him and ask questions about his day. Their latest fad was ‘so how was Wade today?’ or something along those lines, in that stupid sing-song voice that adults always did when they were being dicks.

It had been irritating- but Peter wouldn’t have minded now. If it meant they’d been doing it together, sending stupid smirky grins toward one another or just holding hands at the table rather than looking cold and tired- he wouldn’t have minded at all.


Today it was dad who greeted him. He was sat with a coffee in hand and tablet in the other, idly tapping at the keys and trying to keep his eyes open. Peter knew he hadn’t been sleeping well- it wasn’t exactly hard to tell. And although they never spoke to him about what they did with the avengers, Peter could guess that that had been the trigger for all the stupidity lately. 

He didn’t have to be the genius he was in order to figure that out. Pops hadn’t come back from the mission two Fridays ago; they’d hurried him off to hospital instead. And then three days later, once he’d been given the all-clear, dad had brought him home, where they’d proceeded to have  a huge argument. Right in front of Peter. 

Honestly, he’d just wanted to be able to sit with pops and make sure he was okay- let him stroke his hair and quiet his worries and say how tough he was, that he wouldn’t go down that easy. But instead he’d had to be hurried away by Uncle bruce, who was rolling his eyes and apologizing on behalf of them, saying that he’d be able to talk to his pops soon, but it wasn’t a good time right now.

Peter had scowled, told Uncle Bruce moodily ‘I’m thirteen, not an idiot- I know that’, and then slammed up to his room to wait it out. And, of course, Pops had hobbled up eventually; sitting on the bed with him and assuring him he was okay, he was tough as nails, and he would always, always come home to Peter.


Except he’d been alone. and usually, no matter how mad they were at each other, Pops and Dad had always talked to Peter about this together.

That had been the first warning. From then on, it had seemed things just got progressively worse.


“Hey squirt- how was school?” Dad asked, when Peter dropped his bag and began making his way into the kitchen in order to make himself a bowl of cereal (he was a growing boy, okay, shut up, cereal in the afternoon was perfectly fine, his Uncle Clint did it all the time).

he shrugged. “Eh- it was okay. Boring, as usual; they gave us a test, I aced it, again, as usual,” Peter explained, carefully avoiding the fact that they’d been learning about The Battle of New York in lesson that day. He knew it was a touchy subject for his dad, and he didn’t want to risk upsetting him.

Dad raised an eyebrow, taking a sip from his coffee and watching Peter with a look on his face. Peter just sighed. He knew what was coming.

“So how was Waaade?

He sighed. “Ugh, Wade was fine, he smiled at me while i passed on the corridors today and that was literally all that happened. I honestly don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this, he called me cute once-”

“Once is enough,” his dad shrugged bemusedly, poking Peter in the side as he walked around the table to sit next to him and get to work on his snack. 

“That is not a snack, Peter,” dad said, because unfortunately he was good at reading Peter’s mind like that. “That’s like, a full meal. We’re having dinner in an hour, are you serious-”

“School is hard work,” Peter complained, flopping on to the stool and leaning on his dad’s shoulder theatrically, “It drains me of energy that I need to replenish with Lucky Charms.”

“Natasha will blow her top if she sees you eating that- it’s her turn to cook tonight. And if she chooses to murder you for eating beforehand, then there isn’t much I can do. I know you’re my son, but the whole parent-bond thing only goes so far-”

Peter bumped him on the shoulder and he laughed quietly. It was nice to see the tension ease off his face a little.


Of course, then everything went wrong again.


“Hey Peter, didn’t know you’d be back so ear- oh,” his Pops said, entering the room and faltering when he saw Dad already sat at the table.

There was an awkward pause. Peter guessed they must have got the days wrong for which one of them was going to go and talk to him about his school day. 
That tended to happen when they didn’t actually speak to one another and acted like they were Peter’s Goddamn age.

Pops managed to collect himself, though- walking forward and smiling as he reached out to squeeze Peter’s shoulder, before heading to the cupboards and grabbing a mug. “You had a good day today?”

Peter shrugged, wishing it didn’t feel as tense as it did. Why the hell did parents have to argue anyway? It was stupid. They were being stupid, and Peter just wanted them to kiss and make up already- because that’s what they did, that’s what they always did, right? This wasn’t going to last, it couldn’t- Peter didn’t want to have two homes, he didn’t want Dad to marry someone else or Pops to have different kids-


It was only then that he realised Dad and Pops had moved, resting a hand on each shoulder while he leaned forward on to the table and hid his crumpled face in the crook of his arms.

 “Peter! Hey, baby, what’s happened, did something go down at school-”

“Do we need to go in, because we’ll go in, okay- whatever’s wrong, we’ll sort it out. Are you being bullied?”

“Did someone hurt you?”

“Did you have an argument with your friends?”

“Were y-”

“IT’S YOU TWO!” Peter yelled, jerking upward again and throwing his hands in the air. “God, this is the first time you’ve been this close to each other in ages! I haven’t seen you look each other in the eye when you’re around one another except to argue! Why the hell are you both being so stupid? I don’t…I don’t want you to get divorced! But you will and then you’ll both find stupid new people and have stupid new lives and leave me behind and we won’t be a family any more and I don’t want that so just STOP FIGHTING!”

He didn’t stop to listen to whatever stupid crap they tried to throw at him; instead kicking the chair he was sat on over and storming out of the room angrily, ignoring their calls and running up into his room before they could bother him. 

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11 moments that marked Sirius and Remus’s relationship (at Hogwarts)

Year 1:


Moment #1

The first time Remus Lupin talked to Sirius Black, he had wanted to slap him. He had been 11 years old, self-conscious, quiet, and had sworn to keep to himself for the entirety of his 7 school years, but he had wanted to slap him very much.

“That’s what Mother says ayway,” Sirius kept repeating in that superior, pedant tone. “She says there has never been one single person in Slytherin that isn’t completely pureblooded.”

Remus thought he saw the greasy-haired boy next to the red-head move uncomfortably on his chair, but said nothing.

“I don’t know what’s Slytherins’ mania with pureblood, personally, though,” Sirius continued. “I myself am sure I will be sorted into Gryffindor,” he smirked triunphantly.

“Whoa!” The boy with the spectacles- James Potter, Remus was almost sure- exclaimed. “Can you imagine that? The first Black to be sorted somewhere other than Slytherin. That’ll give people something to talk about.”

Remus followed the conversation from his place next to the window, biting on his tongue to avoid saying anything that might make these boys hate him before they had even set foot on Hogwarts grounds. He settled for looking out the window, rolling his eyes at every new comment the two boys made.

Sirius turned to James, his eyes sparkling. “I know, right! That’ll show my family.” A pause. “What about you, Lupin? Where do you think you’ll end up?”

Remus turned his head slowly, trying to mask his surprise at being addressed.

“I dunno,” he muttered, shrugging a little bit. He thought of adding something else, seeing the expectant looks of the other 4 people around him. He didn’t want, however, to tell them how incredibly freaked out he was, how he thought the Sorting Hat would probably just laugh (if hats could laugh) and tell him You? You thought you had a place here? How marvelous! How incredibly amusing! and just laugh and laugh and laugh until someone took it off Remus’s head so he could run out of the school and hide under a rock forever and ever.

So he just blinked and turned back to the window. He heard Sirius let out a disappointed breath, and it was a few seconds before he resumed his conversation with James. This time, however, Remus listened without rolling his eyes.

+++

Moment #2:

“Black, Sirius!”

Sirius walked up to the stool where the sorting hat rested, his heart drumming like mad inside his chest, his legs feeling like melting butter. He hid his hands under the sleeves of his robes so no one could see them shaking, and tried to muster every single piece of confidence that could possibly run into his Black blood. He brushed past Remus Lupin in the process, and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He could do this.

+++

Moment #3:

“Sirius?” Remus whispered, pressing his ear against the drapes of the four-posted bed. Immediately he heard the other boy let out a shaky breath. “Sirius, I’m going to open the curtain, okay?” No response.

He pulled the drapes aside, revealing a curled-up lump on a corner of the bed. The lump- Sirius- was shaking with silent sobs. Tentatively, Remus climbed on top of the bed, putting a hand on Sirius’s arm and coaxing him to turn on his side.

Reluctantly, Sirius did, and Remus tried not to wince at the look on his friend’s face; it was tear-stained, the long-ish hair plastered to his forehead, his eyes red. Sirius sniffed. “What do you want?” he asked weakly. Remus assumed that, under any other circumstances, he would have snapped.

“Move over,” he said softly, pulling the tangled sheets from under Sirius, and getting under them when Sirius moved against the wall without objecting. Once they were settled, Sirius slowly moved to curl against Remus’s bony side. Remus didn’t move, but didn’t pull away either.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Sirius muttered. Remus turned his head slightly to look at him.

“I get them too, you know.” Sirius exhaled slowly, his breath tickling Remus’s neck. “Nightmares. I get them a lot.”

Sirius didn’t say anyting, just reached for Remus’s hand under the blankets and gave it a squeeze. They went to sleep peacefully for the rest of the night (and nights that followed).

Year 3:

Moment #4:

“I mean it, James. We need to confront him about it.”

“Sirius! For the thousandth time, he’ll tell us when he’s ready.”

Sirius scowled. “But what if he’s never ready? You can’t just expect us- he can’t just expect us- to simply sit here while he goes through excruciating pain in that horrible excuse of a shelter! We need to do something!”

James threw his hands up, losing his patience. “And what do you expect us to do, Sirius? Werewolves can’t be near humans. He’d kill us without ever realising it. What do you want us to become, animals?”

Sirius opened his mind to retort, then closed it again, realization hitting him. He smirked.

“Exactly.”

+++

Moment #5:

Remus fidgeted with the hem of the sleeves of his sweater. “Is everything okay…?” he was starting to get nervous. His hands felt cold and he was sure most of the color had drained from his face right now. His heart was thumping painfully in his chest, and he took a deep breath in, playing off his dread with an awkward smile.

Sirius, James and Peter stood in front of him in their room, and looked at him directly in the eye. James seemed to be pondering, trying to read him. Sirius, on the other hand, seemed to be looking for the right words to start.

“Remus,” Sirius breathed out, then cleared his throat. “Remus weknowyou’reawerewolf.”

Remus knew he hadn’t heard wrong. Sirius had spoken in one single breath, words tumbling against each other, in such an unlike-Sirius manner, that Remus, even though he knew he had heard right, couldn’t help but ask,

“What was that?”

Sirius seemed to compose himself after that. “You’re a werewolf, Remus. We know.” Remus’s whole blood drained from his brain, and all he could do was gape at his friends. Peter kept throwing worried glances at James, and James was still looking at Remus as if he were trying to read into his soul.

“I-,” Remus started. “I don’t-”

Sirius raised his hand to stop him. “It’s no use, Remus. We know. We’re sure. But-” he reaised his hand again when Remus started to deny it, and apologize, and say he would be away from their lives forever at the same time. “But we don’t care. James, Peter and I wanted to say that we don’t care that you’re a werewolf, Remus.”

There was such decision in Sirius’s voice, his tone so definite, Remus’s eyes swelled against his will. The anguish that had been building up inside him had been finally released, and he was so relieved he couldn’t help the tears that started to flood his eyes and spill down his cheeks. Embarrassed, he put his face between his hands and rubbed his cheekbones furiously.

Sirius chuckled. “You didn’t think we would be mad, did you? I mean, I was mad that you hadn’t told us so we could help, but you do realize there’s nothing wrong with you, nothing that could make us push you away, right?”

Remus barely registered what he was saying. He sniffed into his palms, trying to stop the convulsing sobs from shaking his body from head to toe. He felt James sit next to him and put his hand on his shoulder. Then he felt Sirius sit on the other side.

“Remus,” James said, speaking for the first time. “You are our best friend. Even if we’d found out you had killed someone, we would have asked you whether you had hidden the body well enough.”

At this, Remus let out a slightly hysteric laugh.

“I think he’s hysteric,” whispered Peter. Remus agreed very much.

“Remus. Rem,” Sirius said, starting to rub Remus’s back. “Everything’s going to be okay. You don’t have to go through that alone anymore.”

At this, curiosity got the best of him and Remus lifted his head to look at his friend. “Wha-” he cleared his throat. “Wh’ you mean?”

Sirius smiled his trademark smile, and Remus hiccuped.

“We have a plan.”

Year 5:

Moment #6:

“Moony! Moonymoonymoony we did it!” Remus looked up from his book to see his friends barging through the portrait hole, earning the glares of a few students. “It worked, Moony!” Sirius repeated, this time in an eager whisper so as not to attract anymore attention than they already had.

“It did?” Remus asked, closing his book and sitting up slowly. His heart, once again, was hammering wildly inside his chest.

James nodded, a huge smile spread across his face. “The three of us. We did it.”

Remus stared, realization slowly hitting him. When it did, he beamed at the three of them. He looked at each of his friends, his eyes taking in the proud smile on James’s face, the gleeful one on Peter’s, and then resting on Sirius, who looked back at him with a proud, satisfied smile, and a mischevious glint in his eyes.

“Show me,” Remus said.

They ran back through the portrait hole outside.

+++

Moment #7:

Remus and Sirius were lying on Sirius’s bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Sirius?” Remus whispered hoarsely. Sirius felt a shiver run down his spine, that he masked by turning on his side to look at his friend. “Promise me you’ll never stop being my friend, Sirius. Nor James or Peter. I don’t want to be alone.”

Remus sometimes got like this, after a particularly bad dream. It broke Sirius’s heart every single time.

“I promise,” he said without hesitation, and he meant it. He wove his fingers through Remus’s, and rested his head on the werewolve’s shoulder. He exhaled slowly. “I promise you James and Peter and I will never leave you.”

Remus nodded his head, and rested his cheek on the top of Sirius’s head. “Thank you.”

+++

Moment #8:

Sirius hadn’t been sure what had gotten into him when he said what he said to Snape. He didn’t even really remember the moment the words had escaped his lips. If it hadn’t been for James… Sirius didn’t even want to think about that. He just steadily made his way to the hospital wing, his legs burning from running all the way from Herbology.

He opened the doors and barged in, ignoring Madame Pomfrey’s objections.

“Remus,” he said, opening the curtains around his friend’s bed, and stopped dead when he saw the state Remus was in. There were long, deep gashes on his chest and legs, and a huge bruise forming on one of his hipbones. He had black shadows under his eyes. There was also a cut running from one temple to the opposite corner of his mouth, across his nosebridge. “Remus, please-“

But Remus wasn’t looking at him. He was staring ahead, his eyes glazed, his jaw clenched. Sirius took a careful step closer, but stopped when Remus’s shoulders tensed.

“Remus you have to let me explain-“

“Save it, Sirius,” Remus said, still not looking at him. “Just fucking save it.”

“I didn’t mean it, Remus. I- I don’t know what happened-“

“Oh, you didn’t?” Remus turned to look at him, his eyes full of rage in a way Sirius had never seen them. He took a step back. “You didn’t mean it, Sirius?”

“Moony, please-“

“Don’t call me that,” Remus snapped, and Sirius felt it like a blow to his stomach. He visibly blanched. “Just,” Remus said, and suddenly he looked very tired. “Just get out, Sirius. I don’t- I don’t really feel like looking at you right now.”

Sirius gulped, trying to catch his breath. His lungs seemed to be refusing to work. Just as he was about to reply, Madame Pomfrey opened the curtains all the way.

“Mr. Black, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” she looked sternly at Sirius. “Mr. Lupin is very delicate at the moment and he needs to rest. Upsetting him will not do.”

Sirius looked at Remus pleadingly, but the werewolf pointedly looked away. Sirius felt another stab at his chest, and hung his head defeated.

“Of course, ma’am.”

And without another word, he left the hospital.

+++

Moment #9:

Sirius’s eyes were tinged with red, had lately always been so. Red-rimmed and red-tinged and puffy most (if not all) of the time. At first, Remus had been secretly, not-so-guiltily pleased. He was slightly scared of this feeling, but way too angry at Sirus to really analyze it. Sirius had tried to apologize a couple of times more, but Remus refused to talk to him. The level of betrayal and indignation he felt was way too big for even himself.

He knew he wasn’t being entirely fair– 90% of him was sure Sirius had not been thinking when he said what he said to Snape. He knew Sirius’s nature; he talked without thinking, exploded way too easily, couldn’t help himself sometimes. He really shouldn’t be holding it against him.

Yet that 10%… that 10% kept nagging at him, telling him not to trust his best friend, to question it. It had been really hard to ignore that 10%, hence Remus avoiding Sirius at all costs.

But it had been two months already, and the voice had subsided, becoming just an annoying, mostly ignorable buzz in the back of his head.

“Sirius,” Remus said rigidly. He’d forgiven Sirius, sure, but he wasn’t about to let Sirius see that yet. “Let’s talk.”

Sirius had looked up from his Transfigurations homework when Remus had first said his name, and Remus had to fight the urge to throw his arms around his friend’s neck and hold him forever and tell him everything would be alright. He looked tired, he had eyes under his bags, and his eyes were eternally red. Remus’s heart clenched painfully in his chest as he realized he was responsible.

“S-“ Sirius cleared his throat. “Sure.”

Year 6:

Moment #10:

“You’re mental.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Sirius huffed. His head was resting on Remus’s chest, and Remus’s fingers were running through his hair softly. Sirius sighed pleasantly.

“Wanna know a secret, Moony?”

Remus hummed. His eyelids felt heavy, and the steady weight of Sirius’s head was making his brain start to shut down into bottomless, peaceful sleep.

“I got so scared.” Sirius whispered. Remus’s fingers stopped for a second, then kept going. Sirius took a deep breath. “That time. I know you don’t like to talk about it but… I was so scared I’d lost you forever.”

Remus was silent, didn’t know how to reply. He felt his heart pick up in his rib cage and was sure Sirius felt it too.

Sirius’s voice was barely audible when he spoke again. “I thought you would n-“ his voice breaks. Remus’s fingers clenched on Sirius’s scalp. “Never talk to me again.”

Remus took his hand off Sirius’s head and Sirius lifted his head slightly to look at him. The thin ray of moonlight made his hair and eyelashes look silver. There were tears in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t, Sirius,” Remus said softly but firmly. He put his hand against Sirius’s cheek and rubbed it ever-so-softly with his thumb. “I would never.”

Sirius closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, two thin lines of water spilling from his eyes. It was still such a rare sight to see Sirius so vulnerable like this. It made Remus’s insides twist in a painful, nearly agonizing knot.

Sirius bit back a sob, and Remus just couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled Sirius closer to him, and Sirius buried his face in the crook of his neck, letting himself cry. Remus held him, pulled him onto his lap, and cradled him. “I missed you s-so much, Rem-mus. I’m sorr-ry.”

Remus held him, kissed the top of his head repeatedly, whispered soothing words in his ear. “Sirius. It’s okay, Sirius. It’s okay. I’ve forgiven you, you know that. It’s all okay.” And there were tears flooding his eyes as well, and they were both a sobbing mess but yeah, it was all okay.

+++

Moment #11:

“Sirius, what the hell are you doing?”

Sirius turned to face Remus, a mischevious smile tugging at his lips. Then the music started to play.

“Dance with me, Moony.”

Remus froze, his eyes widened in terror. It was one of the funniest things to see Remus like this, Sirius thought. All taken by surprise.

“No way.”

“Yes way.” Sirius started to walk towards him, moving his hips in a way Remus thought should be absolutely illegal. He tugged at Remus’s hand, pulling him to himself.

“Sirius-“ Remus began, throwing his head back.

I want you to want me,” Sirius sang, and Remus’s heart fell a little bit south. He swallowed. “I need you to need me.

And they were dancing. There was something compelling about the way Sirius moved, with his hair falling on his face and his hips swaying and his chest heaving. Remus couldn’t help but move along.

When the song was over, Sirius and Remus were flushed together, Remus’s back against one of the posters of his bed. Sirius leaned in, slightly out of breath, and whispered in Remus’s ear, panting, “I’d love you to love me.”

Remus let out a puff of breath that stirred Sirius’s hair. Sirius pulled back to look at him, and his eyes fell on his lips, and before Remus could do or say or think anything, Sirius was kissing him, kissing him hard and wet and perfect. Remus made a noise in the back of his throat and kissed back, coaxing Sirius’s mouth open with his tongue, tasting cigarettes and toothpaste and Sirius. And he loved him.

((I’m gonna leave it at that because we know that afterwards everything becomes angsty and I am fUCKING TIRED of writing angst. So here, have this little thing I wrote in the course of this week.))

Reminiscence (Calum imagine)

Summary: You spend Valentine’s Day reminiscing

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: This has to be one of my favourite things that I’ve ever written :) Please pay attention to the dates and times! It begins in the present, and then there are a series of flashbacks. They’re all in chronological order for ease of reading, but please pay attention to the timings if you’re unsure!

This is for @calumsbicth and @calsdream‘s Valentines!5sos blurb night!

Originally posted by hemmoxhood96

Present day, Valentine’s Day

With a cream envelope held between your fingers, you can’t prevent the smile from spreading across your lips. A greying memory slips into your mind, your eyes fluttering to a close as you let yourself get taken away to the land of fantasies.

Valentine’s day, two years ago, 1pm

“Y/N!”

At the sound of your name, you looked up.  You were in a park, sitting on a picnic blanket. Surrounding you were hundreds of tiny daisies, scattered amongst the green grass like a sprinkling of icing sugar.

“Hmm?” You looked across the blanket to see Calum, your boyfriend, with a wide smile spread across his face.

Keep reading

drunk boyfriend tag

summary: dan and phil get drunk and film the boyfriend tag (similar to what shane dawson did)

tags: alcohol, so much sweetness and cuteness your teeth will hurt, extreme fluff

by: angelboydjh on tumblr

word count: ~1.8k

first fic posted!! please, ignore any mistakes and reblog and like!! ilu!! send in requests for fics :-)

゚*。:(人´v`*)☆゚:。*゚

dan and phil got a little drunk. they originally got out some Ribena, which is completely unharmful, until dan spotted vodka on the kitchen counter, which they only keep for parties. its almost gone, with a half a bottle left, so dan thought of an idea.

“phil, lets get drunk.” phil looked at dan confused; dan never really likes drinking as much as he used to, hes grown, the satisfaction of being drunk doesnt really thrill as much, and its the same with phil.

“why?” asked phil, sipping his Ribena.

“because why not! we have no meeting tomorrow, we are bored out of our minds, and itll be fun! we’ll even be safe, we can control each other well.” phil thought about it. he never really likes hangovers, who does? he gets them bad, and he knows dan gets them worse, but dan was right, they were extremely bored and had no meetings tomorrow. phil shrugged, and replied with a sure, causing dan to jump up with joy.

dan grabbed the bottle and went to phils room, closing the door, and sitting on his bed. he opens to bottle and pours a lot in his drink, doing the same to phil. there is now many 4 shots full left of the drink and dan was happy he rationed out well.

“wanna do a toast?” asked phil.

“with our vodka filled ribena?” chuckled dan. phil nodded, giggling a little.

“why not?” phil responded, and dan nodded agreeing. they lifted their glass cups up and they look at each other. “to us!”

dan laughed at the cliché, but echoed phil, and a clink noise was heard when the touched glasses. dan downed about half of his drink in that one sip, phil only taking a baby sip.

phil made a face, hating the taste of vodka. dan hid his disgust, looking at phil.

“now we wait.” dan took another sip, already feeling slightly dizzy.

*:・゚✧

dan was fully drunk. he was giggling, putting his head on phil, slurring his words, all of it.

phil was only tipsy. he didnt drink much yet, only about half of his drink. dan, of course, drank all of it, even the rest in the bottle!

“phil!” dan slurred out, and phil glanced over slowly, so he doesnt get dizzy, and raised his eyebrow. “we should do a boyfriend tag.”

phil thought about this. is he that drunk that he doesnt really care if they do one or not? yes. he doesnt really care, its not like itll be posted. phil knows better than that.

“sure.” phil got up to get his camera from the other side of the room, and dan plopped on the bed laughing at who knows what.

it took phil about 2 minutes to set up everything for filming, and an extra 5 minutes to find good goddamn questions.

he finally found some question, a total of twenty. he can barely read them because of his blurry vision, and since he didnt have neither his contacts or glasses on. so he grabbed his glasses from the bed side and put them on to see if itll help. nope. he took another sip of his drink and locked his phone. he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it. he gets up and turns on the camera, praying to god its in focus.

“dan, its on, we are filming.” once those words left phils mouth, dan shot up from phils bed and looked at phil.

“okay, okay, okay, okay,” he kept repeating that until he finally was next to phil on the bed facing the camera. phil giggled at dan, dan looking at him with his red cheeks.

“okay, ready, babe?” asked phil, seeing double of dan. dan nodded, and smiled at phil and then at the camera.

“okay,” phil breathed in and then ‘took in his persona’.

“hey guys!” he said cheerfully, but all it did is make him dizzy. dan was like, on top of phil, so hes grateful that he was, or phil wouldve fallen over.

“im here with dan.” phil pointed at him, and dan waved, his white oversized cat shirt being exposed, and you could even see his naked legs, since hes wearing shorts. “we are doing the boyfriend tag.” phil said slowly, and dan nodded jumping up and down on the bed.

“phil is my boyfriend! boyfriend phil! philip lester, boyfriend!” he yelled, making phil giggle.

“okay, want ask the questions, or do u want me go ask them?” asked phil to dan.

“ask me the questions! then we will do it back!” dan suggested, and phil nodded encouragingly.

“okay, first question.” phil unlocked his phone and read it very carefully.

“when is my birthday?” he asked. “bonus points for the zodiac sign!”

“january 30th, that makes you a……” he strung out the 'a’ to think. “an Aquarius! aquarium.” he laughed, and phil chuckled.

“correct baby.” he leaned in to kiss dan, and dan kissed him, tasting of vodka and ribena.

“okay, now,” phil was going to go to the next question, but dan protested.

“now do mine! do mine!” dan pouted, crossing his arms.

“june 11th! youre a gemini.” phil stuttered out, making dan laugh.

“lucky guess.” he muttered jokingly.

“next question,” phil scrolled down the page. “where did i grow up?”

“im too drunk for this phil!!” he moaned out. “the north! thats all youre getting.”

“well, youre not wrong.” said phil. “ill give you the point.”

“what about me?” asked dan.

“the south.”

“ugh! exact place!”

“not fair, you didnt do that for me!”

“ugh, whatever.” dan pouted again.

“wipe that pout off your face princess.” phil whispered, grabbing dans chin.

“im just kidding philly!” dan kissed phil, getting him off guard.

“okay, next,” phil asked. “whats my middle name?”

“michael! these are too easy! i want harder ones. test me!” dan groaned out, and phil rolled his eyes.

“okay, okay,” phil said. he scrolled down to another website, which had different questions. “how about this: where was our first date?”

“EASY!” he yelled, throwing his hands up. “well, kinda,” he muttered. “its hard!”

“well, tell me.” phil said suggestively, leaning closer to dan.

“we first met of course at the train station,” he muttered out. “and then we went straight to your house, and, did things. does that count as a first date?” this took him way too long to say, as he was stuttering madly.

“yes, it does. great job, cutie.” phil said happily and leaned in for a kiss.

“okay, let me ask the question!” phil started to give him the phone, but dan refused, saying he wants go make one up.

“whats the first thing you notice about me?” he asked a bashful.

“your smile.” phil said simply. no explanation was needed to make dan feel all warm inside. dan covered his face and leaned on phils shoulder, grinning like mad.

once he got up, he looked at phil, seeing his wonderful, eyes.

“you know what mine is.” he muttered, almost inaudible. it was phils turn to blush. they lean in and kiss once again, but longer than before.

when they pulled apart, dan was seeing actual stars, and couldnt even understand what was happening, completely forgot about the video.

“oh my god, i love you so much.” he said in a shush tone, with phils hand on his cheek. they were only a few inches away from each other, and phil loved it. phil was exploding every inch of dans face, and so was dan. every moment phil made, it made him more dizzy and more dazed, but he didnt care.

within a few moments, they both locked eyes, and somehow, both remembered they were recording.

“uh, one more question,” phil stuttered out, as dan looked around for his almost empty drink. “okay, last question. what is my favorite color?”

“easy, blue.” dan said, as he drank his final sips of his drink before crushed it and threw it.

“hey!” phil protested, looking over at the cup.

“ill pick it ip later, babe.” dan slurred out almost incoherently. “whats mine?”

“easy, pink.” phil mocked. dan smiled softly, putting his arms around phils neck, phil put this hands on dans waist.

“what kind of pink?” he muttered, with his sloppy grin on his face, his curly hair perfect in tack still. (which surprised phil)

“pastel.” dan groaned jokingly, letting his head drop down onto phils shoulders.

“oh my god, i tried to trick you!” dan yelled.

“well, you didnt. 8 years of friendship pays off.” phil joked. dan put his head on phils shoulder, his head facing the camera.

“can we finish? i wanna cuddle with you watch disney movies.” phil chuckled and nodded.

“we’ll finish, lets do the outro.” phil tapped dan, so he can get up from his shoulder, but dan didnt move a muscle, indicating hes not moving.

“okay, well, goodbye everyone, please like a subscribe to me and dans channel, and our gaming channel! love you!” he waved and awkwardly looked at dan.

“i need to turn off that camera baby.” dan groaned and got up from phils shoulder. phil got up and turned off the camera, sitting right on his bed again next to dan.

“can we just cuddle?” phil can tell dan was getting tired, and getting all drained. he gets like this when hes drunk, but also after recording videos.

“of course, princess.” phil laid down, then wrapping his arms around dan who is not next to them. they peacefully fall asleep, with the lights on and phils snoring.

*:・゚✧

it was the morning, and phil is posting his premade video on lessamazingphil, just a quick vlog from florida. its taking surprisingly long to process, since its only 2 minutes, but phil didnt question it. its almost done, so phil went to go see dan, who has the worst hangover ever.

“how are you baby?” asked phil, laying next to dan.

“better, how bad was it?” he asked, and phil laughed.

“you were fine, not as bad as a few months ago, but you were not any better.” dan groaned, and at that moment his phone dinged. he unlocked his phone to see the notification, YouTube popping up, and it was phils new video.

“uh, phil.” dan said.

“yes?” phil hummed.

“you posted the wrong video.”

“what?” phil yelled a little too loudly for dan, as he backed away and gave phil his phone in just one beat.

“i uploaded our drunk boyfriend tag.” dans eyes widen.

“we filmed a video? no way, i dont remember this. did we kiss?”

“i was drunk too!”

“well, i would keep it up.”

“why?”

“we already made this mistake once, lets just let them have what they want.”

The boys only made it worse. Part.4 END*WARNING: M (sensitive)*

[Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3] Part.4END


Originally posted by pastelyoonseok

Yoongi’s p.o.v 

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks since we found out about Y/N’s overdose that lead her to being in a coma. The past two weeks have been hell, we would take it in turns - visiting her and staying by her side, and right now it was my turn again. 

I had so many regrets, more than I could ever say out loud. I shouldn’t have said those things. I should have filtered my own thoughts before hitting that send button. I should have never joked around about something so serious. We should have known. Y/N’s condition was never the best, there were so many things she would say that she hated about herself. Even to me, at first; I thought she was only saying things like that because she was trying to pry for attention. But I was so wrong. I should have noticed all the signs, the signs of her screaming out for help. But I did nothing. I did nothing. 

I heard the room door slide open and all the members had arrived, some bearing food, the others bearing flowers and other gifts. Not like Y/N could even see the flowers, or the teddy bears or eat the chocolates right now… But I had faith. I had faith that she was going to wake up eventually. 

Hoseok’s p.o.v

Seeing her lie there pains my heart. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. I felt like complete shit. This was partly my fault and if anything were to happen to her. I don’t know how I would live with myself. All of our schedules have been postponed and I was glad that they were, I don’t think I could even fake a smile right now. I was dying inside. I just wanted Y/N to wake up. 

Please Y/N, stop sleeping… wake up.

Namjoon’s p.o.v 

We all looked drained, every single one of us had dark bags underneath our eyes. Some of us even had red and puffy eyes from crying. Ever since this incident had happened, we spoke so little to one another, our communication was cut because we all knew we were at fault. We didn’t want to talk because no one knew what to say. We had no excuses for out actions. We knew that we were all partly to blame for all of this and we were guilty. Every single one of us were guilty, and the guilt will continue to linger.

Jimin’s p.o.v

I missed hearing her laugh. I miss seeing her smile. But after all of this, it made me wonder. Were any of those laughs or smiles ever genuine? She was suffering and she hid it so well, it could have been possible for her to hide it away from us. But still that was no excuse. No excuse for the way that we behaved, no excuse for the shit that we dragged her through, because now look where she is. Lying so lifelessly on the hospital bed. I hated thinking that way but it was true and it’s about time that we admitted it to ourselves because we should feel guilty. 

Taehyung’s p.o.v

If only we gave her a chance to talk to us. If only we allowed her to share her troubles with us without doubting everything, if we did all those things then would she still be here like the way that she is? I don’t know, I had no idea what the answer was. Maybe we could have consulted her, maybe we could have stopped this. But we didn’t, we didn’t because we were selfish. We took it too far and pushed her over the edge, and now what do we do? What can we do? 

Jungkook’s p.o.v

How? How could we have possibly said such things? Oh, that’s because we’re useless assholes that didn’t know any better, we should have helped her. But we didn’t we neglected the idea that she was in need of our help and when we realised that we had fucked it all up. It was already too late. I was thankful that she was still alive, although barely. I hated coming here to see her, I wanted to see her at her place so we could play video games again. But when will that ever become possible again? When will it be possible when she’s lying here and it’s because of us that she is?

Seokjin’s p.o.v

I heard the monitor beep in the background like it has done for the last couple of weeks, monitoring Y/N’s heartbeat. But this time the beeping was different, it was louder, more unstable. I looked across the room and saw Y/N’s once relaxed body now jolting I didn’t know what to do, Yoongi who was sat next to her slammed his fist onto the emergency button and Jungkook sprinted out of the room, calling for help during the process. I stood there, not having a clue how to process anything, Y/N’s seizure came to and end and long beep sounded through the room, the sound of a flatline. The doctors ran in alongside with a few nurses, they shoved us away from the bed area and began to shock her. One time, nothing. Second time, nothing. Third time, still nothing. No matter how many times they tried, it made no difference to her heartbeat. They couldn’t bring her back.

“Miss Y/L/N has passed, Dr. could you please pronounce her.”

“Miss Y/N Y/L/N passed, July 7th 2017 at 00:45am” They covered her entirety with the white sheet. I could no longer see her face. I will never get to see her face again and my whole world completely fell apart, the members sobbed and I knew I was doing so too. Rapmon had the back of his wrist held up to his mouth, as tears fell from his eyes. Yoongi, was shocked and had no clue what to process. Hoseok now on his knees with his head on the ground crying so loudly. Jimin, held onto Jungkook and cried with him. Taehyung’s forehead rested against the wall, his left fist punching into the wall. And I? I collapsed to the ground and wept.

This was our doing. We drove her to this, we drove her to her end and now we’ll have to live with the guilt because we… we were the ones who killed our friend.


END

I will make them pay for this

Originally posted by dailyalexhogh

Pairing: IvarxReader
Rating: Explicit
Words: 3735
Warning: Mention of rape and death, a little bit of blood, cursing, a fight

Notes: Hello everyone! Here’s my second one-shot which prevented me from studying for my upcoming exam! But I’m not complaining! English is not my native language, I’m sorry if there’s any mistakes. I hope you’ll enjoy it!


You could hear the laughs and music coming from the feast, which took place in the great hall, not too far from the hut you shared with your husband Ivar. It was a celebration night, like every night was since the sons of Ragnar came back a week ago, boats full of gold, silver and slaves. You wished you could have gone with them; it’s been a long time since you fought and you missed it. But, you were a mother of two beautiful babies now, your son Sigtrygg was 5 years old and your daughter Freydis was 3. They became the most important thing in your life; you had to stay alive to raise and protect them. 

Keep reading

Come Here - Justin Foley Smut

Justin Foley x reader 

Request:  Justin Foley ❤️❤️ , can you do a plot there reader x Justin have a very heated argument (about anything, you can choose) and just as the reader is about the walk out, he grabs her arm and kisses her then end with a smut?? Sorry if it’s too much!!

WARNING: Smut, swearing 


“Are you fucking serious Justin!”

Me and Justin have been arguing on and off for the past 3 days now about stupid things. Lately he’s been finding literally anything to argue about from me not giving him any attention to me not wanting to meet him at his locker. He doesn’t understand that I don’t like being around his friends, especially Bryce. His friends are ass-wholes, and they make my boyfriend an ass-whole when he’s around them. Don’t get me wrong, Justin is the sweetest boy out there, and I love every minute that I’m with him, but when he’s with his friends he forgets that side of him and this is what we are arguing about now.

“Yes I’m serious y/n, what is your problem!” he yells. He asked me to come over earlier and when I did he basically threw me in a trap and said ‘let’s go to Bryce’s house’. 

“My problem? What the hell is your’s, are you fucking in love with Bryce!”

“What the hell y/n! what do you have against my friends!”

“I don’t like them and how you are around them Justin!” I yell back.

“You have to be joking babe! I never act different towards you!”

I dry laugh and pace his room, “Yes you do Justin! you fucking forgot to take me to work cause you were getting high with them!!”

“I said I was sor-”

“And you fucking forgot my birthday 3 weeks ago cause you were partying with Bryce!”

“I didn’t do it on purp-”

“You even fucking made me think you were dead when you decided to play hookie for 3 days at Bryce’s house and not return my calls!!!” I scream, tears coming down.

“Bab-” he tries to grab my arm, but I yank it away.

“NO!” I scream, “your always up their asses, so don’t you dare ask me to go with you to his house!”

“Babe just let me exp-” I pull away from his touch again and he sighs and rubs his face.

“I don’t want to hear it!” I say, feeling emotionally drained from going back and forth.

“You know I didn’t mean to do any of those things!” 

“I don’t care Justin! you still did, so don’t ask me why I don’t like them!”

He stays quiet and looks like he is in deep thought. He doesn’t say anything about what I just said and it’s starting to piss me off. I feel like I’m about to full on cry and I don’t want him to see it so I roll my eyes and turn towards the door.

“Okay whatever Justin, have fun at Bryce’s”. As soon as another tear was about to fall, I felt his hand yank my arm back to him. 

“Come here.” As soon as I came into contact with his chest, I felt his lips on mine. It’s like all of our anger was put into this kiss as Justin deepened it. He made me feel like I wasn’t important to him and the most important thing at the same time and it drives me crazy. He pinned me against the wall and pushed his. His lips went to my neck as he whispered. 

“You’re so damn wrong baby” he says in a husky voice, “I love you so much and I’m so sorry. Fuck Bryce.”

I giggle at what he says and lean my head back as he continues peppering kisses. He grabs my hips and I automatically wrap my legs around his torso. It’s like all my anger went away, and I wanted nothing more but for him to make love to me. His light peppers went to full on harsh sucking and I bit my lip to stop myself from moaning. The way he was sucking on my neck, I know I’m going to have a bunch of purple bruises.  I pulled him closer to me as he parted his lips, begging for an entrance. I let him, and our tongues danced together mixed with our groans. He hands leave my waist, pushing them up my shirt impatiently, causing me to get goosebumps. His hands grazed over my laced black bra, squeezing my breast and I was already turned on just from his fingertips against my skin. He grabbed my butt, carrying us over to his bed. 

“I just missed you, that’s all” I whispered so low that I thought he didn’t hear me. His eyes was filled with love and desire as he pulled of his shirt along with mine.

“I missed you too baby” He locked his lips with mine as he hovered over my body, his hands wandering. His fingers slowly traveled to my leggings, pulling them down. I felt my core becoming hot and wet and needed him. 

“Justin” I whined. He seemed to feel my agony, as his hands slipped into my panties. His fingers grazed over my clit and I sucked in my breath. He nibbled on my chest as he started to rub the figure 8 around my core. 

“Oh my g- Justin” I moaned, grabbing onto his shoulder. He started to rubbed harder and faster and I felt myself getting hotter. He slips two fingers into me and I arched to feel more of him.

“Fuck Justin!” I moan, circling my hips around his fingers. 

“Your so beautiful to me y/n” he whispers again my chest. with his free hand, he unclasps my bra, throwing it across the room, never stopping his hand from giving me pleasure. He takes one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue around it as he started vigorously rubbing my clit with his thumb and pumping in and out of me. The pressure was getting to me and I was a moaning mess under him. This was long needed. 

“Oh my go- Justin please baby!” 

He takes his mouth off my chest and goes down to my core. His breath makes me want to grab his hair and pull him further in. He slowly pulls off my underwear and I can’t help but grind against his touch. 

“Don’t tease me baby” I whine.

“Not this time babe”. His hands grab my thighs and his tongue immediately began to lick me out. He starts flicking his tongue against my core, making me grab his hair.

“Baby” I moan, wiggling my hips against his core. He starts moving his tongue faster, pushing my hips further onto his mouth. I throw my head back and fight not to pull his hair. He goes back to finger fucking me and I’m a mess. 

“Justin! baby faster please!” I beg louder, grinding against his face. Listening to my cries, Justin speeds up, roughly rubbing my clit. His tongue slides into me, along with his fingers making me whimper. 

“Justin baby I’m about t-”. He doesn’t stop as he continues pumping while his other hand comes up to my boob, bringing his finger to pinch my nipple making me go crazy. 

“Justin!” I scream as he speeds everything up, groaning against my core. I feel myself clench around his fingers and let my orgasm out with a whimper. I licks everything up and comes up to kiss me. I wrap my arms around his neck, tasting myself on his lips. I want nothing more than to feel him inside of me. As if he read my mind, he threw off his boxers and grabbed my thighs, placing my legs over his shoulder. He came back down to my lips, kissing me passionately. 

“I really do love you baby He smiled, looking at me with nothing but love. 

“I love you too” I smiled. He look down at his bulge near my entrance and look back up to me as in asking is it okay, I nod my head, just needing him already. He slowly pushes into me and I whimper form the pain. 

“Are you okay?” He asks worriedly. 

“Yeah, just keep going babe”. Its been a while since we had sex and I needed to adjust to his size. He starts slowly pulling in and out of me as I gripped onto his arms.

“Faster baby” I moan. Justin started thrusting faster, moving his his hips harder with each thrust. Each of his thrust had me moaning his name. He leaned in to suck on my neck as I dug my nails into his soft and muscled back. As he sped up, his grip tightened on my hips, surely leaving  a bruise, but I didn’t care. This feeling was amazing. 

“Fuck princess” He groaned into my hair, planting kisses from my neck to my chest. I wrap my arms around his neck as he buried himself into me. 

“Oh my-fuck Justin harder please!” I scream. He straighten up and pulled me closer into him, drilling into me. 

“Fuck!” he screamed with each hard and rough thrust. His hands rested at each side of my head as his thrust got more sloppier and rougher making me almost cry at the feeling.

“Justin baby!” I scream as I feel myself clench around his dick. I let my climax overtake me as my eyes go to the back of my head, enjoying the high. This sent Justin over the edge, as he climaxed right after me, fully burying himself into me, riding out his high. A string of curses left his mouth as he finished his high. He came down to my lips and kissed me slowly and sweetly before collapsing onto the bed next to me. Both panting, he pulled me onto his chest, kissing my head until we both calmed down. We stayed in this comfortable silence for a while just enjoying each others company when his phone rings. He reaches over, not letting go of his grip on me, to answer it. 

“Hello…”

“Nah man…”

“Not tomorrow night either…”

“Because I’m staying with y/n tonight and the rest of the week….”

Take Your Pain  {Part 1/2}

Steve x Reader
Summary: Soulmate AU in which Steve overestimates the powers of the super soldier serum and comes to a startling realization

Prompt: You can choose to take the pain of your soulmate away (from this post)

Word Count: 2163
Warnings: none

Originally posted by snowbutlannister

Soulmates were a thing of the past. 

Although it had been common throughout the early 1900s to be born with the small cursive words on your wrist, after the second world war more and more children were born without them. Many blamed it on the plethora of chemical and nuclear weapons, others on the traumatizing pain it had caused throughout the war, but nobody knew for sure why they had disappeared.

That’s why it had been such a big deal when you’d been born with a mark. Your grandparents, old enough to have their own, were ecstatic. Your parents, on the other hand, had urged you to keep it hidden away from the public. It was unusual in their day and age and they feared the attention it might bring.

So for much of your childhood you listened intently to your grandfather’s stories of soulmates in his time, eyes wide and a large grin plastered on your face despite having to keep your own mark a secret.

However, the excitement soon disappeared as you grew older.

Grandma explained that during the war the only way to know if your soulmate was alive and well was to feel for their pain. When your soulmate was hurt a numbness would spread across your own body, alerting you and allowing you to choose whether or not to take that pain away. When you failed to feel that numbness even through your teenage years, you knew what it meant. You might have been lucky to be born with a soulmate, but you sure as hell weren’t lucky enough to meet them.

The supersoldier serum pumping through Steve’s veins did many things. He could run faster, think harder, jump higher and most important of all, he could heal quicker. It was a significant advantage he had over the rest of the Avengers. Even with a bullet in his side Steve would push forwards, the pain all but forgotten and his enhanced body already racing to repair itself.

What Steve didn’t realize was that his pain wasn’t just being forgotten – it was being taken away.

On the other side of Manhattan, another person was willingly taking the pain as their own. Every bullet wound, every slash of a knife she felt so he wouldn’t. She wouldn’t let him. He was her soulmate and after believing he was gone for so many years, she would do anything to protect him.

So Steve continued on fighting, completely unaware that the girl he’d thought was left in the past was in fact alive and well only a few kilometers away.

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2

A/N: Request from anon. Oh, I very much enjoyed writing this. It was too perfect. I combined it with some of my own ideas and well… I guess I got a little carried away. So without further ado… Enjoy, everyone! ;-)

Words: 3829 (oops)
Warnings: smut

Keep reading

BTS Imagine: Jimin Confessing to Cheating | Part 1

Thank you for the request! I hope I did this justice.^^

word count: 1.6k

part one | two | three *coming soon*

requests: open

masterlist

Jimin sat on the edge of his bed, his laptop on his thighs and his hands in his hair. He had to do it now, he told himself. He had to call you now and confess what had happened. There was no way to hide it anymore. No way to pretend that everything was the same as it used to be. No more having to hide the guilt that had plagued him constantly these past 3 months. He finally pulled his head up to look at your smiling face on his screen. His fingers hovered over the trackpad as he willed himself to hit the call button. He took a deep, shaky breath and tapped on your name. It was time for him to tell you the worst secret of his life.

You were laying in your bed that evening, staring at your BTS poster taped to your closet door. The few people very close to you knew that you weren’t just an ARMY fangirling over the boys in the picture. You were always only looking at one boy. You were only ever looking at your ChimChim.

The chronic times apart hadn’t been easy for either of you. When Jimin had gone to be a trainee, leaving your hometown of Busan, you’d hoped that things wouldn’t be over between you two. You’d hoped that your connection was strong enough to overcome the distance. And it had been. Sure, being limited to video chats or talking on the phone wasn’t nearly as good as having him there in person; but you’d both learned how to navigate the rough waters of him being an idol with a secret girlfriend.

At first it had really bothered you that you had to keep your relationship a secret. Every time that Jimin claimed to have never been in a relationship before used to feel like a stab to your heart. The precious few days you had together when he got to visit home was filled with disguises to prevent fans from recognizing him and therefore wondering about you. You had a strong love-hate relationship with the other ARMYs. You loved that he was being successful. You loved seeing others see all of the good inside him. Loved watching their clever edits that were made with so much care. But then there was the ugly side of being an idol. Having to watch other girls screaming his name and reaching for him constantly. Having to watch him doing his fanservice and smiling his shy smile at them and answering their sticky note questions flirtatiously. It was all part of his job—you knew that. You knew in your heart, even without his constant assurances, that Park Jimin loved you and only you. The girl of his hometown.

At least that’s what you had to keep reminding yourself of more and more often lately. Five months ago, BitHit had asked Jimin to publicly date an actress that had been in their newest music video to help promote their comeback. It bothered you that BigHit often put things on only Jimin’s shoulders like when they told him that only he had to show his abs in their debut song. It had been a tough conversation but you told Jimin you understood. He was doing it for his career and helping hers as well since Jimin was always thinking of others. None of it meant anything. They didn’t even talk outside of their public appearances that were always so carefully crafted even when they were just “going to the grocery store.” The public ate everything up so easily.

Suddenly your phone sounded with a video call. When you saw the familiar handsome face flash across your screen, your mood instantly picked up and you were ready for one of your long five hour conversations that Jimin always called “conversations with friends” when asked about it in interviews.

“Hey, my ChimChim,” you greeted him happily with your favorite nickname for him.

“Hey, jagiya,” he said, his voice noticeably subdued.

“What’s wrong?” you asked instantly, sitting straight up in your bed. You took in his facial features that were filled with a mixture of anxiety and sadness.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” He gave a nervous laugh.

“Jiminie, I know you better than you know yourself….What’s wrong?”

“Ay, Jaigya,” he sighed, leaning back and running his hand roughly through his hair. “I—I really don’t want to tell you this,” he said quietly.

Your stomach started to sink and you felt your throat starting to close up. There was something very wrong. You’d seen Jimin when he was feeling down more times than you could count but this was something else. This wasn’t just him having doubts about himself. This was him holding back. He was always so caring; always thinking of everyone else first. This was something about you.

“Are you breaking up with me?” you managed to squeeze out through the tightness in your throat.

“Y/n, it’s not that. It’s um…it’s something else.”

“Please just tell me, ChimChim. I don’t know how much longer I can take this,” you admitted.

You watched as his throat gulped on the screen. He ran his hand through his hair again, biting his lip as he did so. If you weren’t in such agonizing suspense, you’d be thinking some rather naughty thoughts right now. If only that’s what was happening you thought to yourself.

“You know h/n noona?” he asked.

“Yes, of course,” you responded quickly. How could you forget the beautiful, talented actress fake dating your boyfriend?

“Something happened one night…with me and her,” he finally said. You stared at the image of your boyfriend on the screen, feeling like every inch of blood inside you was draining out.

“‘One night’?” you repeated softly. “What do you mean?” You had to hear him say the words. It wasn’t real until he said the words.

“Y/n, I was drunk,” he started. “I was drunk and lonely and missing you more than you could possibly know. And I—I slept with her,” he finally admitted. “I don’t even remember any of it. I just woke up next to her.”

You closed your eyes tightly to prevent the tears that had welled up in your eyes from falling down your face. You never in a dozen lifetimes thought Jimin would be that guy. Not your ChimChim. All of those pictures you would send him, all of those video and phone calls—they were all for nothing. You still couldn’t be there to satisfy him and he’d turned to someone else. You were so stupid to think that this would ever turn out any other way.

“Y/n, that’s not all of it,” Jimin’s voice broke in again.

You didn’t care anymore if he saw the tears. Let him see. Let him see how much he’d hurt you. “What else do you want to tell me?” you choked out. You hid the surprise from crossing your face when you saw that Jimin was crying on the other side of the screen.

“She’s pregnant.”

Anger streaked through you. “Are you kidding me?” you burst out. “You’ve always made sure we were careful! Even with you wearing condoms, you asked me to take birth control even though I get to see you only two weeks out of the year! And then you sleep with her without using anything?!” You couldn’t stop the accusing words from coming out of your mouth.

“Jagi, I was drunk. I didn’t plan for it to happen,” he replied.

“How far along is she?”

Jimin stared at you. “Twelve weeks,” he finally answered.

“You did this three months ago and didn’t tell me?” you whispered.

“It was one time. I knew it would never happen again. I couldn’t bear to see you hurt like this.”

You nodded mockingly at him through your tears. “How long have you had feelings for her?”

“What?” He looked like you’d put your hand through the screen and smacked him.

“How long, Jimin?” you demanded.

“I don’t, jagi.”

“Don’t call me that,” you protested immediately. “I know you, Park Jimin. Even drunk, you would never sleep with someone you didn’t feel anything for. What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know, y/n,” he admitted. “She told me she’s keeping the baby.”

You let out a small sarcastic laugh. “Of course she is. It’s your baby. No one could end a part of you…,” you trailed off, your heart squeezing even tighter as the realization that this was happening hit you. She was carrying your boyfriend’s child. She was always going to have a connection with him now. She was always going to have a piece of him that you would never have. And with that thought you realized what your next question needed to be. “Are you going to marry her?” He didn’t respond. “You will, won’t you?” you whispered. “You’ll keep her from scandal.”

“She doesn’t deserve it,” he said. “You don’t deserve this,” his voice broke. “I’m sorry, y/n. More sorry than you could ever know. I would never want to hurt you.”

“Oh, Jiminie,” you said slightly mockingly. “It’s way too late for that.” And with that Jimin broke down into a pile of sobs on the other side of the screen. You couldn’t watch this anymore. “Goodbye, Jimin,” you choked out and hung up the call.

Before you fell into your own mess of sobs, you sent a quick text to Jin. You need to go to Jiminie. He needs someone right now. Please don’t be too hard on him. Because even after all of this, you knew that you would always love that beautiful boy with the shy smile from Busan. 

BTS Reaction ; Finding Out You’re With Them Cause of A Bet

Requested by Anonymous, “Hi! I loved the ‘Finding Out They’re With You Cause of a Bet’ reaction and was wondering if you coud do a reverse one when you’re the one dating them for a bet? :))”

Note: Wow anonnie, you’re evil..but so am I cause as soon as I got this request I disregarded all the others lmaoooo


Jin ➳ Your fingers are intertwined with his, the both of you walking down the streets of the night as you suddenly stop in your tracks, face written in guilt and marked with sorrow. “What’s wrong, love?” Seokjin asks, unlocking the doors of his truck as you slowly slip inside. When he arrived to the driver’s seat and shoves the keys in the ignition, the words fall from your mouth like rain, hands shaky as you gripped the bottom of your sweater.

The man laughs in the way you love most, “you’re joking, right?” He says with a smile, but when seconds prolonged and you don’t say a peep, his grin slowly vanishes as he starts the car quietly, driving with no destination in mind.

Originally posted by theseoks


Suga ➳ The moment the words slipped from your lips, Yoongi’s once impassiveness heart was drenched with anger, your words of trying to coax him and telling him that it shouldn’t matter because your feelings for him is real was left evaporating into the sky — ignored. He pushed past you as he tried to get away from you, not trusting his own emotions but you followed him in tears, running across the street. “Yoongi,” you cry, grabbing onto his arm in trying to stop him in his tracks, “don’t leave me–”

But your words are cut short as he tips his hand away from your grasp, the force nearly pushing you to the side as he growls, “don’t fucking touch me.”

Originally posted by mochifairyjimin


J-Hope ➳ “You what?” He questions, eyebrows furrowed as you begin to repeat yourself but he stops you as his face is suddenly cold, eyes ablaze a he refuses to stare you in the eye. “I bet it was fun, huh? Seeing how easy I could fall for you–”

“No, Hoseok, I promise, I love you—”

“Just,” he starts, licking his lips as a sigh escapes his being. “Please, go..I just want to be alone right now.” And when you leave after casting him a last glance, his body slumps against the wall as he tries to understand it all, as he wonders if everything he had with you — was just a game.

Originally posted by minseokhoseok


RapMonster ➳ He knew about the bet the moment you let him watch a video on your phone, a notification from one of yours friends asking about how it was going appearing for a few seconds before it disappeared — just like whatever form of lasting hope he had for you. He loves you, yes, but he was ready for the inevitable, ready for you to crush him with your own words and when two whole months pass by without you telling him, he confronts you about it.

“I was meaning to tell you, babe, I swear–” but he just stares at you as if you were a stranger, stoic as ever while chewing on his candy.

“Whatever you say.”

Originally posted by dazzlingkai


Jimin ➳ His once angelic features morphed into a spine-chilling stupor, biting aggressively into his apple as you await any sort of sign from the man. “Babe, are you–”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped, slamming his apple to the table as you jumped from the sudden act. He was in love, he was hurt, he was livid — but there was one feeling he could feel in the very pit of his chest, and that was for you to disappear. “Get out.”

“But–” and he takes no time in shoving your belongings into your hands, pushing you out of the apartment and slamming the door; and once he was alone, he had finally let the tears fall.

Originally posted by fyeahbangtaned


V ➳ And there he was, speechless as his eyes whirled with betrayal once he felt you hug him, crying into his chest as you whispered apologies over and over again like a mantra, but he could care less — never moving his arms to engulf you and comfort you, only letting his anger get the better of him. He knew he shouldn’t be making much of a deal, it was only a bet for crying out loud but you were still by his side in the end, and if the bet never occurred — you would have never been.

“I’m going to be honest with you,” he cracks, “I wish I never met you, because this alone hurts too damn much.”

Originally posted by mvssmedia


Jungkook“I’m sorry,” you squeak, but he is lost in his own world. All he could see was your relationship for nearly a year flash before his eyes, from all the shared kisses and smiles and love, only to be smothered down by a plain joke made by your friends — and he could only imagine what you had to endure just so you wouldn’t hurt him.

But you did. He says nothing, life drained out from his being as he shoves his hands into his pockets, slowly walking away as he harshly bumps into you without noticing. He continues to walk, ignoring your cries as he leaves you behind because all he could think of, was that he was a only a pawn splattered in the middle of your hand.

Originally posted by kpop-favorites


Masterlist

His Family Doesn’t Like You PT 3

Harry sat at the dinning table, a cup of whisky in front of him. His long pale fingers gripped the glass. He had only had a couple, he wasn’t much of a drinker but getting lost in the glass was better than getting lost in a bar where camera’s would be. He hadn’t moved from the spot in the last couple of hours, every time Anne and Gemma hoped he would be done, but he wasn’t.

“He’s so sad,” Gemma frowns, pulling her suitcase out from under the bed, Anne sits in a chair, her eyes on the ground, “you should apologize mum.”

“He’s already upset with me,” Anne shakes her head, “the damage is done.”

“You were too harsh on her,” Gemma sighed, “I was too, we should’ve been nicer.”

“He’s had his heart broken too many times, that Haley girl, and Jen, they all used him and left him so heart broken,” Anne says. 

She thinks back to Harry’s past relationships. She never met Taylor, and Kendall was nice, but they both agreed it wouldn’t work out. Then came Tess, that ended quicker than it started, then Haley showed up. Harry was happy, buying her gifts, showering her in money, and he found her four months later in some other man’s bed. 

Along came Jen, she did some damage. She had taken so much from Harry, his time, his love, his money, and his happiness. Anne remembered reading it on twitter, Jen’s texts were exposed, texts where she stated all she cared about was the money and fame. Harry didn’t leave his house for days, he promised to never date again, until Y/N came along. 

Anne remembered how excited he was telling her the story of how they met. She was working in her small diner, she had the overnight shift, eleven pm to seven am. Her books were scrambled on the counter, notes everywhere, it was just her and the chef. Harry was hungry and when he googled a place to eat at three am it was the first to pop up, he figured it was nice and no one at this time would be there, but there she was. 

He sat across from her, asking her questions. She was so tired from working and studying she couldn’t even pin point where she had seen him before, and when she did she got all nervous. So nervous she started stuttering and he noticed her hands shaking, but she tried to hide it. 

Harry helped her with her flashcards, and ended up staying there all night talking to her. She asked him if he went to college what he would do, and he asked her what she was studying. Something about her made him feel normal, it made him feel happy. And for the next month anytime he had an hour or so he went to visit her. And Anne liked how happy her son sounded, but when the news leaked how he paid her tuition she quickly disliked Y/N.

“Apologize to her,” Gemma says, “give them your approval.”

Before Anne can respond they hear the door shut downstairs, “Y/N, baby, you’re back,” they hear Harry say. 

He struggles to stand from the table but he does. Y/N is a mess, her make up smudged, her cheeks pink and puffy, her hair is in a pony tail, “I just-well I don’t have anywhere to go, I’ll leave in the morning,” she says softly. 

She looks drained, “how did you get back?” Harry asked, rushing towards her.

“I walked,” she responds, stepping away from him, “I’ll take the spare room.”

“No, please, we can work through this,” Harry begs, tears in his own eyes. 

He embraces her, his arms tight, not wanting to let go. He can smell the fries and coffee off of her uniform, and she can smell the whisky on his breath. She’s tense in his arms, not relaxed as she usually is. 

“Harry I can not come in between you and your family,” she says softly, “I’m sorry.”

Upstairs Gemma closes the door, but her and Anne have their ears pressed against it, listening, “you need to go down there and fix this,” Gemma whispered. 

“Please Y/N,” Harry says. 

She shakes her head, pulling away and making her way to the stairs, “I want to marry you,” Harry yelled, making her freeze, making Anne and Gemma’s jaw drops. 

“What?”

“I want to marry you, I was going to wait till you finished school because I wanted you to be focused on your career, not a wedding, not more fans, not the media. But I want you. I see my life with you, I see myself waking up next to you, I see our kids, I see us being old, I see it Y/N. I do,” he says, walking towards her. 

“And when you left today I felt empty, not the empty I did with the others, but a cold and dark empty. I didn’t see you anymore and that hurt, I can’t-I mean I know I can live without you, but it won’t be the same. I’ll be breathing, I’ll be living, but I won’t be alive,” he adds, “don’t you want to marry me?”

“I can’t-”

“That wasn’t the question.”

She sighs, her eyes closing, “of course I want to marry you. I love you, I wouldn’t care if you had a dollar to your name, I wouldn’t care if you didn’t pay for anything, I couldn’t care less if you were Harry Styles from One Direction, I care about you, I love you. But I know how much your family loves you Harry and you will regret this later on when your mother won’t come to the wedding, when you want to have an event and your family won’t be in the same room as me, and I can’t do that to you.”

“Things change,” he pleads, coming to a full stop in front of her, “don’t leave me.”

“Don’t leave him,” Anne says through the door, she pulls it open, taking in the sight of her son. 

Harry’s eyes are red and he’s standing in front of Y/N, his hand wrapped around her wrist. “I was rude, and judgmental, and it was not okay the way I treated you,” Anne stated, “but after his past girlfriends I was scared. I was scared of getting that call again, I was scared of him getting further away from love, from happiness.”

Anne’s own eyes start to water, “I’m sorry Y/N, I was looking out for him, in the wrong approach, but I was. But you’ve done nothing wrong, and if you take him back I promise to open my heart up to you, I promise to take a step to know you, the real you, not what the damn media writes.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N wipes her eyes, “I understand what those other girls did, but I’m not them. I love Harry so much, and I would never even think about hurting him.”

“Then please,” Anne begs, “don’t go, please.”

Y/N looks over at Harry, “I’ll stay,” she says. 

“Really?” Harry asks. 

Y/N nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “yeah,” she smiled. 

Harry picks her up causing her to laugh, burying her face in his shoulder, “I’m sorry,” Anne says once she has her feet back on the ground, “if Harry loves you this much you must be amazing.”

“She’s pretty great,” Harry says, a smile on his face as he kisses her cheek. 

“Why don’t we all go to bed, it’s been a long day. Do you work tomorrow y/n?” Gemma asked, leaning against the door. 

“No,” y/n answered. 

“Well why don’t we all go for brunch?” Anne asked, “you can tell us about yourself.”

“I would love that,” Y/N nods, her hand squeezing Harry’s nervously. 

“Thank you,” Harry says to his mum, “for opening up.”