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ladymarycrawley · 2 years ago

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Say you’ll be there - John Stones ft Rúben Dias

Request: can you do something with john? some angst where the characters get into a fight and don’t make up, sth happens to the female character and he’s madly worried about her? (requested by @howlsq)

Warnings: it’s long and angst but also fluffy poured all my worries and fears into it and even though it’s not a proper fight John is still scared and worried af. Light smutty mentions towards the end, mentions of anxiety

Tag list: @masonxomount @prideofpd @johnstonesfc @stonesyy @chelsealover

After a long but successful season all you needed were some days to unwind, recharge your batteries and do all the things you would have liked to do together with your partner during the year but, because of his hectic schedule, it wasn’t possible. The month that would separate you from the most recent Champions League win and the start of pre season was the period of time you would spend each other’s company, making up for “lost” time and resting as much as you could. That meant days in the sun punctuated by lazy mornings in bed, followed by beach sessions where you would sunbathe and play in the water, all of that with some unmissable cuddles that, even though in yours and John’s case were subtle (none of you was a big fan of pda), were present all the same.

You and your other half were in good company as his teammate Rúben and his girlfriend, who also happened to be your best friend, joined you so you could spend a couple of weeks together in a place that wasn’t Manchester.

To sum it all up it was you, your best friend and your smoking hot boyfriends on holiday together in a place that could easily be defined as a paradise. What could go wrong? Nothing, apparently…except for your anxious mind playing tricks on you.

That day nothing special happened: you spent the day chilling at the beach, enjoying the good weather in the secluded area reserved just for the four of you where, privacy assured. From afar you could see two girls walking on the shore near to where you were, ready to shoot their shot with your man after having seen him all alone on the sunbed. You were chatting with Y/BF/N and her boyfriend a little further you caught sight of them with the side of your eye

“Who are those?”

You glared in their direction as you saw them playing with their hair and trying to flirt with John at a distance, eating him out with their eyes too. You walked towards him and gave them and him a disapproving look before. John saw you and excused himself before standing up from the lounge to walk over to you.

“What did they want?” You asked him, scrunching your face up because of the sunlight hitting your eyes.

He smirked and placed his hands on your hips. In order to show them he was already taken and he was yours, you shifted his hands down on your bum and kissed him passionately. They way water drops would roll down his toned body, highlighting his tanned skin and making his muscles even more evident under your touch made you want to take him right there on the beach.

Your friend, who had very clear what was happening, giggled and shook her head.

“Well, that was quite intense for two who aren’t into pda” The Portuguese player mumbled looking at you two.

“They were eating him with their eyes, the next thing would have been hanging a billboard saying FUCK OFF, HE’S MINE right on his forehead for everyone to see”

John moaned against your lips, making you feel the smile that was forming right against your mouth as his hand indulged on your lower body.

“Someone got jealous”

“Oh my she’s so pathetic…she only has to thank the universe for having that man by her side…he’s way out of her league…”

What? Did they really say those things?

Your heart freezed as those mean words hit you like a dagger, opening those old, always present wounds caused by self-doubt and self-consciousness once again. They were your worst enemies and the passing of time they quietened but never left you.

An inevitable veil of sadness fell down your face, bringing you down the tunnel of overthinking. You weren’t able to live that day as lightheartedly as you did until that moment as it was impossible, due to the stream of thoughts that was telling you you weren’t good enough for John, that you weren’t worthy of him. You faked smiles for the rest of the day, faking it even when your best friend asked you if you were okay.

Consequently a lot of stress from these events piled up, letting all that built up tension release when you were unconscious and unarmed, that is to say during your sleep.

One of the worst nightmares ever started making its way in your sleep: you were on your yacht's deck, John was hugging you from behind, his hands releasing a pleasurable warmth against your stomach as you were wrapping your own against his thumbs.

He was so sweet, stroking his nose against your neck and jaw. The golden hour was making everything even more perfect, that yellowish light cast by the sun setting down was hitting your figures so perfectly.

Your boyfriend moved his hands down to your hips and made your turn around in order to face him. You smiled, still unaware of what he was about to do. He applied a light pressure on them to lift you up effortlessly and placed you on the railing of the class boat so you could sit on it, your back turned to the sea.

"John, put me down, I'll fall"

"Don't worry, I got you" He said with a reassuring smile, his strong arms wrapped around your middle to hold you against his body. Feeling his grip you sighed in relief, smiling back to him.

Then, all of a sudden what you were fearing the most happened: out of the blue what was supposed to be the man of your life, the one who would protect you no matter what pushed you backwards, letting you fall into the open sea.

The rate of your heartbeat became awfully fast as you cracked your eyes open and sat up in bed, as if a pin just hit you unexpectedly. You were panting and all sweaty, your head spinning. That nightmare was one of the worst things you ever dreamt of and the fact that it felt so real made it even scarier.

Tears streaming down your face, together with an uncontrollable shaking, added to all the other symptoms signalling you weren’t having quite a good time. You turned to face and glance a quick look at John who was lying there half naked, oblivious and still deep in his sleep.

The bed was like a cage to you now and its covers were feeling like ropes keeping you tied to it. The first thing you did when you realised where you were and what had just happened was get up and walk silently to the bathroom of your suite, hoping splashing your face with some fresh water could have been of some help. Much to your dismay, you stood there holding onto the sink and looking at your pale reflection in the mirror aware that some plain water wouldn’t have done the trick. It would have been too easy if anxiety and fear could have been erased with something as simple as water.

Your tears soon turned into uncontrollable sobs causing your body to shake and making you feel out of breath.

That horrible nightmare was the realisation of your biggest fear: ending up alone as people get bored of you and eventually leave you. John made no exception to you, he could have easily been one of those people and left you to your own fate to go and share his life with someone more interesting and less boring than you. The thought of him leaving you out of nowhere made you cry even more desperately, trying to stay quiet at the same time not to bother your sleepy man.

You needed someone to help you see the light again, to take your hand and guide you out of the darkness of your fears and that one was your best friend who was sleeping with her boyfriend in the other room and you. She would have been the only one able to cope with all of it.

What if she gets upset? Maybe she’s not sleeping and I'm just interrupting something… your mind kept telling you as you always feared disturbing people with your useless and dry existence.

Before going to knock on their door, you took your phone out to send her a text asking if she was awake. You waited five minutes, the longest five minutes to date, without getting any answer so you sighed loudly and got up from the bathroom floor, staggering towards the room she was in.

Another sigh left your mouth before shyly knocking but no one answered your call, of course.

You tried once again, a bit harder this time but you had to knock three times before she would wake up and get up to open you the door. She welcomed you with her eyes half closed because of the light entering her room and looked also quite confused seeing you there at that hour of the night.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

You started sobbing and the look on her face got even more confused.

“I- I had a nightmare”

She did the same you do moments earlier, quickly glancing at Rúben before closing the bedroom door behind her.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know I-” You started crying again, keeping your hands to your face.

“Shush, it’s okay, come here”

She took your hand and led you to the room and that was like the living room of the boat where you both took a seat on the small cream sofas.

“Tell me what happened”

Through the tears you started telling her the dream that brought you to that state as she was soothingly stroking your hand.

“...that was horrible. It felt so real I thought he killed me for real” Admitting that thing out loud hit you so bad your cry got louder and she hugged you tighter against her.

“It was just a nightmare, it’s okay” She kept whispering to your ear like a mantra “You’re alive and safe, John loves you, we all love you and you’re safe and sound with us”

“What if he doesn’t love me? What if he’s with me just because he doesn’t have the guts to tell me the truth? That he doesn’t find me attractive or funny enough to be his girlfriend and that he wasted three years of his life staying with me?”

“John doesn't think like that, darling” She looked at you with a half smile, giving you the most tender look. At that moment you were like a worried child to her, a child scared to death that just needed to be protected.

“How do you know that?”

“I know that because I know who you are, I know him and I wish you could see you two with my eyes to see how perfect you are for each other”

You bit on your lower lip and shivered: what she said was sweet but what if it was just her opinion?

“What if he leaves me?”

“I don’t think this will happen, or at least not in the short term…if it happens we’ll tell him to go to hell and we’ll pick up the pieces of your broken heart and put them back together. And I’ll be here, the whole time”

She smiled, knowing full well the fear of being alone was torturing you mercilessly.

“Y/BF/N can we spend the day together tomorrow? I mean just you and me, no John nor Rúben”

“If that helps you, it’s fine by me but you know ignoring John won’t solve the problem, right?”

You rolled your eyes and brushed your thumb over the soft skin of her hand.

“I know but I think I have to stay away from him, for some hours at least”

The following day, early in the morning you packed your things to go spend the day together, on the beach eating at some fancy place and maybe doing some shopping.

Your natural way of dealing with something painful or someone that caused you pain was ignoring the source of such distress and that’s what you did with John, even though he didn’t do anything bad objectively. You left for your girl’s day without leaving him a note nor a message, only a quick glance at his sleeping body and closed the door behind you without a single thought.

When the City defender woke up a couple of hours after your departure he found the spot beside him, which was supposed to be occupied by your body, empty and cold. A surprised look appeared on his face, seeming even more confused because of the sleep still visible in his eyes.

Out of instinct he grabbed his phone to go through the notifications on the screen to see if there was something from you and to send you a good morning text.

“Hi my favourite pain in the arse ❤️”

On normal days a text like that from the man you loved with your heart and soul would have made you smile but not on that day: it made you roll your eyes and look at the phone screen kind of disgusted.

“John asked me if we’re together…did you tell him we’re together?” Y/BF/N asked you as she saw the text from your significant other asking her news about you.

“Nope, I didn’t speak to him…”

“Y/N! Don’t be like this, it doesn’t help you”

“I know but I don’t wanna hear from him”

Your friend’s eyes fell on the screen of your phone and saw the notification with the message he sent you and she cooed. “You’re so made for each other it’s impossible he would leave you”

Your skin got flushed as you were trying not to think how much you loved that silly man as he was the love of your life to put it simply but effectively.

“I need to spend time without him to clear my mind, if I answer his texts or call him that won’t help” You explained to your friend quite annoyed, as if that was something easy to understand which didn’t need any further unravelling from your side.

She rolled her eyes and winced a little when her phone started ringing as Rúben was calling her. Her boyfriend was kind of confused too when he found out you weren’t the only one missing but his girlfriend disappeared too.

“Meu amor, where are you?”

“Hi love, we’re on an emergency girls trip…we just needed some time to ourselves”

“What? An emergency girls trip?”

“Shh!! John doesn’t have to know!”

“Erm he’s here with me”

At that exact moment John got right there where his fellow defender was, asking him if he had a clue of where his girlfriend was.

Your friend face palmed herself, whispering to her other half to get up and go somewhere else to talk with you.

“Okay can you tell me what's happening??” His question sounded exasperated over the phone.

“It’s quite complicated but we’re fine, Y/N isn’t just feeling herself and we’re spending the day together to relax a bit”

“Relax? You’re already on vacation!”

“Rúben, babe please don’t ask too many questions, okay?”

“Rubs! Is Y/N there?” John yelled at him, desperate to know you were safe.

“John is asking me about Y/N…”

Your friend took the phone away from her ear to let you know that, in case you changed your mind and wanted to talk to your man but you shook your head in denial, making her huff.

“She doesn’t wanna speak to him…”

“Did they fight??”

“Nope Rubs, I can’t tell you right now. I’ll tell you later. Just tell John we’re okay and we’ll meet you tonight for dinner, okay?”

“Okay…bye”

“Bye, love you”

City’s number 3 hung up on you, trying to understand what the hell was going on that made you literally run away from them.

“What’s happening? Where are they?”

“Look mate, I don’t know what happened but I think you’re in some kind of trouble as Y/N is clearly avoiding you”

The Englishman tilted his head to the side, trying to think about something he could have done that might have hurt you but nothing came to his mind.

“Did you crack some stupid joke that could have offended her? Or said something stupid?”

“Not that I remember of…I mean, I joked with her the way we usually do and she didn't look angry last night”

“I don’t know man but she seems really angry now…you didn’t fight, did you?”

“Not at all!”

“No idea then…maybe she’s pregnant” His teammate said nonchalantly, winning an even more worried glare from John.

“Pregnant??” As every time something embarrassing would happen, John blushed a little and scratched the back of his head as Rúben’s assumption totally caught him by surprise.

Your demeanour left the City centre-back there wondering what could have possibly gone wrong with you, being troubled even more by the absolute lack of communication from you (he tried to call you but without getting any answer from you) and from the supposition made by his friend that kept on resonating through his mind.

Late in the evening it was time for you girls to get back to the base even if you weren’t that enthusiastic about it because it meant having to face John and you weren’t looking forward to it in the slightest.

When you got back, your boyfriends were sitting there waiting for you but with two different reactions: Rúben looked happy to see his girlfriend while John looked relieved.

Your friend got closer to the Portuguese defender who placed his hand on the back of her thigh as she stood there, a bit bent over to kiss him.

The English one, on the other hand, was waiting for something similar coming from you but you just said hello and went straight to your room. Needless to say John looked kind of puzzled, clueless of what went wrong with you within the last 24 hours.

When your friend took her seat on the sofa next to John he gave her a questioning look, waiting for an explanation. She sighed and wrapped her hand around his wrist to stop him from following you.

"You know when she's like this it’s better if you leave her on her own"

"Can you tell me what's going on? That's so crazy"

Another sigh left her lips before telling the two lads what happened, starting from the nightmare that caused all the tantrum

"...she's just scared and anxious, you know she's an anxious person and has this terrible fear of ending up alone…gosh, I feel awful to have told you all of that, she'll kill me"

"She thinks I could kill her?"

"No, I mean, the murder is the last thing that scares her. She's scared of the meaning of it all"

Rúben sighed as John did the same brushing a hand over his face, not knowing what to think of.

"But she loves you, John. She loves you to death…not pun intended"

Rúben chuckled and John smiled, his look falling on the entrance that led to the other rooms of the boat, clearly thinking about you and what were you up to. He got up, as the only thing on his mind was talking to you and reassuring you but your friend warned him.

"Be discreet, John"

"Yeah, I've been with her for quite a while to know how to handle her, you know?" He answered sarcastically.

"Fair enough, don't tell me I didn't warn you if things get worse" She said, raising her hands.

"I only have to thank you for what you did" His voice softened while saying that and his plumpy lips curved into a grateful smile.

John walked straight to your shared room and opened the door to be met with the sound of rushing water coming from the shower cubicle. He entered the ensuite bathroom and smiled when he saw your figure behind the glass.

"How was your day?"

You didn’t answer as you kept on frictioning your hair under the running water.

"What?"

"Can I come in?"

"I'd rather you not" John blurted his eyes out as he didn't expect you to refuse him from taking your shower with him. Three times out of four he would ask that, you would gladly welcome him in the shower so he couldn’t believe his ears.

Maybe you were feeling self conscious that day, it wouldn't have been the first time but in the end you would allow him to look at you, showing you how perfect you were to him but that time it was different.

John went back to your bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and scrolling down his phone. His teammate sent him a text asking him how things were going and he simply answered "She didn’t let me shower with her"

Rúben shook his head and sighed. "The guy is desperate and things are getting weird"

"What?"

He showed his girlfriend the text he got from John and she had the same reaction.

"Poor guy…when she doesn't let him in it means things are serious…she would shower with him every day"

"Can you please not give me the details of what they do under the shower and of Y/N’s fantasies about him?"

"I didn't! More or less that's the same we do"

"The same but better"

"Depends on the day…"

"Do you want to take a shower?"

In the end he had no fault, it was just your mind playing tricks on you. Holding a grudge against him wouldn't change the situation, it would make things far more complicated and he didn't deserve such treatment after all.

You put your bathrobe on and slowly directed yourself to the bedroom where you found him sat on the bed. He looked so sad and such a sight broke your heart. He meant the world to you thus his happiness was your priority.

Without saying anything you got closer to his figure and sat on his lap, encircling his neck with your arms and letting your head rest against his shoulder.

John couldn’t be happier of your rapprochement therefore he smiled and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"I'm sorry" You admitted feebly: the whole situation did take a toll on you, exhausted you and made you feel as if you didn't have enough energy left in your body. Plus you felt a bit ashamed of the treatment you gave him.

"No need to be sorry" He whispered, placing his hand on your thigh, letting his fingertips slid under the white cotton robe but in a way that wasn't meant to be hot, just a tender gesture.

"Do you wanna talk?"

You stayed there in silence, staring at his long fingers against your skin, as if you lost the gift of speech.

No answer to his question arrived.

"We have to get ready for dinner" You mumbled after a while, getting up from his lap.

"We still have time"

You got up from his lap, giving him an empty look. John was getting scared, he wanted to help you but didn't know how to. He wanted to do the right thing but what if it looked like the wrong one in your sight?

"If you don't feel like going to dinner it's -"

"No no, it's fine"

"Baby" You couldn’t resist him calling you like that and that worked as you immediately made eye contact with him. The tone in which he addressed you was so soft, a hint of desperation in it, it almost sounded like a lullaby. "I'm here"

Those words were your last straw. You started sobbing uncontrollably again, the same way you did last night as John got up to hold you tight against him, his lips pressed against your freshly washed hair.

"Don't leave me alone please" You begged him, even though he just said he was there for you.

"I won't"

He didn’t say anything more, he just let you take all your agony out, crying as much as you needed while standing there and holding your body as close as he could to his.

“I - I had this nightmare where - where you killed me by pushing me down the boat into the sea and I don't wanna end up alone, you know is my biggest fear and -"

The sobs were stopping you from making any reasonable speech as you grew desperate with each word.

"It's far more likely that you'll end up killing me than the other way around, you know that?"

That joke earned him a laugh from you who were trying to dry your tears by stroking the side of your hand against your eyes. You were so lucky to have him.

Words weren’t that necessary on that occasion so silence wrapped you up as you were sniffling, nuzzled against John’s chest and basking in his gentle strokes down your back.You just needed to feel him close now more than ever to reassure you that he wouldn’t have left you and that was enough.

"I love you" John smiled, placing a kiss in the crook of your neck. “You’re a little mental but I love you”

You giggled through the tears still soaking your face and slammed a playful fist against his marble-like chest.

“Plus if I kill you I’d go to prison and I wouldn’t get to fuck you. Is that enough of a good reason to keep you alive?”

“Oh God” A really loud laughter from you echoed through the room “I wouldn’t survive more than a couple of days without my goofy boyfriend”

“Three days is a lot, I feel offended”

“I said a couple, that’s two days”

“A couple is three”

“That’s not true, that’s two”

“In Manchester it’s three”

“You aren’t from Manchester, you idiot”

He rolled his eyes.

“Well you aren’t either, little know-it-all”

“I know more things than you do by the way” Your bickering was maybe the thing you loved the most about your relationship, it was so funny to you and never failed to bring a smile to your face..

“You’re also calling me out for being ignorant now??”

“Yep, you’re my illiterate, adorable, super hot boyfriend” You whispered on his lips, tiptoeing to kiss him on the lips.

“Well, at least I’m adorable and hot”

You giggled and left him to get ready for the night, after having glanced at the clock on the nightbed quickly to see it was almost time to meet up with your friends to go out for dinner.

You opted for a silk, dark blue slip dress matched with a pair of flat sandals and styled your hair in some soft curls and you were ready to go.

"Good to go" You muttered as you took your phone out of your purse while waiting for your boyfriend.

He went for a simple style too, wearing some jeans paired with a black t-shirt. John would have looked good even with a garbage bag so he didn't have to force any crazy, extremely sophisticated style to look hot. That light tan the sun gave him complimented him perfectly, making his out-of-this-world cerulean eyes stand out as well as his soft curls that looked blonder than usual. He really was something in between an angel and a god.

John got out of the bathroom, preceded by the strong scent of his perfume that used to have a tranquilising effect on you.

"Me too - uh, who's this hot lady right here? Are you waiting for your boyfriend?"

He smirked, walking closer to where you were standing, smiling back at him.

"Yep, he should be here any moment"

"Mh, he's a lucky man…" He pushed his hands down your hips, as the effect of his natural warmth mixed with the sheer fabric of your dress, produced a really pleasurable effect on you, feeling it in the pit of your stomach.

You giggled and closed your eyes to press your lips against his in a chaste kiss. When you opened them you brushed the tip of your nose against his.

"You're gorgeous"

"Not really…my head is still spinning and my eyes are so damn puffy"

"I said you’re gorgeous, even when you feel ugly"

"Erm…thank you?"

"You're the ugliest girlfriend in the world"

"So is my boyfriend still lucky to have me?"

"The luckiest" He chuckled, kissing your lips again before smacking your bum gently.

You got out of his embrace to go and grab your clutch so you could join Rúben and Y/BF/N who were waiting for you outside.

"John?"

"Mhh?"

"Do you love me?" You asked him all of a sudden, seeing him walking out of the door. He stopped and turned to face you.

"What do you think?"

"Well…I hope you do"

"You're so clever, that's the correct answer!" He exclaimed as he was the guest of some game show and you were the contestant who just answered correctly to some hard riddle.

"You're so silly" You giggled, shaking your head.

"I'm here to make you laugh and to be the hot one in the couple you should know that by now"

When you got out of your room your friends were there waiting for you and your friend's eyes were literally shining with happiness as soon as she saw you holding hands.

"Finally" Rúben sighed, with a little smile. The same little, contented smile appeared on your friend’s face as she was so happy to see you walking out of your room hand in hand and with far more relaxed faces than the ones she saw you with earlier that day.

“The hottest couple ever is back!” She squealed, making you and John blush and earning an eye roll from the latter.

That night John didn’t leave your side not even for a minute and you did the same: his fingers kept brushing against yours, even when he wasn’t clearly holding your hand. Nothing too overwhelming as it wasn’t your style but he knew you needed to feel that he was there and would have been there for years on end.

Once you arrived at the cool, renowned restaurant he guided you in gently pressing his hand on your lower back until he took his seat right by your side.

You friend always kept an eye on you, smiling so widely at how in love you two clearly were. Sharing giggles, the look of love never leaving your eyes not even when John cracked one of his bad jokes.

You were in awe of each other and she succeeded in taking the cutest picture of you two sitting at the table: lost in each other’s eyes, clearly laughing about something, as John’s head rested against your shoulder, the tips of your noses almost touching. She posted the photo on instagram, on her close friends’ stories, knowing how private you were, writing “I wish you could see it from my eyes ❤️”

“Did I ever tell you you have beautiful eyes?” You whispered close to his lips.

“Yeah, a couple of times”

“Nope, I’m sure I did it more than three times”

John giggled and you shushed him by pressing your mouth to his, in a sweet peck.

Thinking about what Rúben said back in the morning, alluding to a possible pregnancy of yours, John placed his hand over your belly as you looked at him interrogatively.

“John?”

“Mhh?”

“You love me even though my boobs are almost a size zero, my booty is too big and I’m not like those girls at the beach?” You felt the need to ask him that as your gaze fell on a couple of girls similar to those you saw yesterday at the beach entering the restaurant.

You were fully aware you were the most distant thing ever compared to them, like the Sun and the Moon but the comparison was somehow unavoidable as they were the standard a woman should aim to, according to society: impossible beauty.

John narrowed his eyes and bit on his lower lip.

“All of this because of some girls at the beach?” He asked, recalling the encounter with those two ladies that happened yesterday morning.

You rolled your eyes. “You know I feel self conscious most of the time and I’m the complete opposite of those girls you as footballers usually like to go with”

“You could have joined them and meet me in the bedroom”

“Stones!” You hit his arm, making him laugh and whine because of the pain your slap just provoked him. “Don’t make fun of me…I was thinking about doing some lip filler”

“Yeah you could inject some in your boobs too or maybe they’ll get bigger with pregnancy”

“With what???”

John blurted out his eyes and looked at Rúben, who hid behind his girlfriend’s back to laugh out loud.

“Erm well Rubs said you could be -”

“Pregnant?? On what basis should I be pregnant??”

“I don’t know! I just made a guess trying to understand why you were angry this morning”

“You would have the prettiest babies! They would literally be like real life angels!” Your friend cooed with the dreamiest voice, already thinking about some blonde, blue-eyed nieces or nephews for her to cuddle and spoil.

“Okay, enough baby talk for tonight!” You said, raising your voice and looking kind of flustered. Your other half's skin assumed the same red tint as yours did but a little smirk was placed on his lips.

“What if we go and try for a baby?” He asked nonchalantly, running his finger over the hem of your dress.

“Is it a nice way to ask for sex?”

He huffed and got closer to your face, brushing his lips against yours.

“Well, the only way to have them is by having sex so the answer is yes, I guess”

You smiled and threw your arms around his neck, pressing a peck on his upper lip.

“That’s the right answer! You don’t just have a great body but you also have a great mind, Stones”

“You like it?”

“I love it. I love everything about you” You whispered a few inches away from his mouth as your sight was fixed on it. God his lips were so kissable you couldn’t resist the urge to taste them again and again.

“Okay guys, I’m happy you made it up but get a room please” Rúben snorted, making your friend giggle.

“That’s what we’ll do cause she has to tell me all the things she loves about me and I guess that’s a long list” The City man said, getting up from his spot and taking you with him by holding your hand.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Stonesy” You chuckled, blushing even more evident now.

John stopped in his tracks to wrap his arm around your waist and get close to your ear, to whisper something only you could hear.

“You’re right, you’ll do it yourself later on”

Nobody heard what he said but the expression on your face made it guessable.

“We can’t wait to become uncle and auntie!” Your best friend shouted, winking at you and waving you goodbye.

Rúben propped himself on his elbow and looked at his girlfriend sat next to him.

“So…how about we go and find out how to make babies too?”

138 notes · View notes

rotin0 · 1 year ago

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Sooo

Now I’m a fan of the show Hetalia and like many others I wish for my country to star in the show but sadly it never did happen.

So! To cure my sadnness and fill my empty heart I decided to go create my own personificafions of my home country, Brunei Darussalam. Because the I can’t decide however, I made two versions of Brunei, Ibrahim (the male version) and Atiqah (the female version).

I made some headcannons of them down below if you’re interested, keep in mind it is still in developement so I apologize if I ever did anything wrong <:DD

Headcannon for Ibrahim and Atiqah :

- They both love listening to KFM, sometimes they go on the radio station to talk to the djs for a bit. Ibrahim does it the most but it disturbs his work so its either Atiqah or his secretary that has to drag him away

- Both were sobbing during the royal wedding of prince mateen, actually they do it whenever there is a royal wedding.

- Atiqah is a master at making ambuyat and makes it all the time whenever there are guests over. Abdul (Malayisa) doesn’t even need to ask what he is having for dinner when he comes over because he knows it will be ambuyat.

- Ibrahim lives in temburong while Atiqah lives in Bandar Seri Bergawan. The day the bridge was made both personifications of brunei were very happy.

- While Atiqah is a master at ambuyat, Ibrahim takes over when it involves his favourite game congkak. He has his very own board in his house and brings a smaller foldable version of it when he needs to go overseas.

By the way, I’m open to any questions! I’ll be glad to answer them. I’ll even post a drawing of them shortly after this so watch out for that

#hetaliabrunei #hetalia asean #hetalia #hetalia oc #Roti’s ocs #PLEASE ASK ABOUT THEM #I NEED TO BE MOTIVATED TO CONTINUE #hetalia malaysia #hws malaysia #hws brunei

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kaszewskah · 4 years ago

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All the things I wanna tell you

You don't wanna talk about

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marsrogers · 2 years ago

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love me again (funeral blues pt. 2) | tom holland’s peter parker x stark! reader (18+)

warnings: mentions of death, underage drinking/drug use, angst, harry osborn being an asshole, oral (f-receiving), handjobs, fingering, sex (piv), female orgasm, male orgasm, swearing

synopsis: Unable to come to terms with Peter’s rejection, you attend a party at Harry’s to take your mind off of things. Things only get worst...until they get better.

word count: 10.8k

note: this is a second part to this imagine! it makes sense to read this after reading the first part.

A/N: Apologies for the incredibly delayed update; life has inhibited me from writing as frequently as I wish I could. As for the important details of the imagine, I thought it would be fun to pair Gwen and MJ together, as it’s something I’ve never seen done before but seems fitting. Additionally, I have no face claims in mind for Gwen nor the other characters I made up, such as Grace and the other Midtown High girls. That being said: enjoy!

It’s been two weeks since your father’s funeral, and all you’ve done since the memorial is alternate between sleeping on your left and right sides, catch up on episodes of Criminal Minds, eat, and shower. To say that getting out of bed was a chore would be an understatement, and the lax attitude that your school had about your return wasn’t helping to pull you out of your funk. Then again, you suppose that your school was in no position to rush you back, seeing as to how your father had resurrected the missing half of the population. Plus, you’re sure that your dad’s generous donation a few years back that doubled the size of Midtown has something to do with their laissez-faire attitude.

It’s currently 9:30 am on a Saturday, and you’re not even sure why you’re up this early. This is undoubtedly the earliest you’ve risen from your slumber in weeks, and you can’t deny that it feels good to have somewhat of a regimented schedule. You’re even contemplating exiting your room to have breakfast with your stepmother and sister. Key word is almost. You try to push away the desire to emerge from solitary confinement, but it’s persistent. Something is encouraging you to escape from the limits of your room. So, a little less than an hour after waking, you find yourself downstairs, slumped over your kitchen island with a bowl of cereal in your hands.

Pepper screeches when she comes down the stairs and sees you sitting in the kitchen.

“Morning,” you mumble through a mouthful of cereal.

She screeches and jumps in place, her right palm flying to clutch her heart. “Jesus, Y/N—you scared me. I didn’t expect you to be up this early. Frankly, I didn’t expect you to come out of your room today at all.” The last part she mutters, but your acute sense of hearing allows you to take in her words.

You shrug in between, placing a mouthful of cereal into your mouth. “Couldn’t stay in there forever.”

She gives you a nod of affirmation, a sudden smile beginning to find its way to her face. She makes her way over to you, a freshly brewed cup of coffee in her possession. Coming to stand beside you, her hand gently finds its way into your hair and strokes it softly. From your peripheral, you catch the way her engagement ring sparkles in the light of the kitchen window. You suddenly feel sick.

“How’re you doing today?” She questions soothingly.

“I mean, I waited, like, fifteen minutes after waking up before I started crying, so progress, I guess?” You joke. Pepper frowns, continuing to card her fingers through your hair.

Your words trigger an instant change in her demeanor. She swallows thickly. “I just want you to be okay, Y/N.”

“I will be.” Your answer surprises you. You offer it without thinking about whether or not you actually mean it. You’re not really sure if you do.

She offers another sad smile. “I know, I know.” Her response brings about an awkward silence among you two.

You wait a few seconds before you stand up and decide to break the quietness. “Okay, I’m going to go back to my room.”

“No, no, please don’t leave,” she implores. You can see the sadness and loneliness in her eyes, which makes you swallow nervously. “This is the first time you’ve been out of your room fully in days. I don’t want the cycle to continue repeating itself. Why don’t you invite Gwen over?”

The Gwen in question was your best friend in the entire world, Gwen Stacy, and while you’d normally be inclined to spend any available time you had with her, the prospect of her inducing a trauma dumping session scared you. But Gwen kept you grounded and forced you to be pragmatic during the times when you wanted to be the most impulsive. She’d been there for you through breakups, traumatic missions, and death. And you’d been there for her through her similar calamities: shitty partners, overbearing parents, and identity crises. You knew that asking her to come over to spend the day with you would be enjoyable, but you just didn’t know if you were up to it yet.

You swirl the remnants of milk and tiny pieces of cereal around in your ceramic bowl, trying to decide whether or not you should oblige Pepper. She stares at you expectantly, hoping to coax a favorable answer out of you.

“Okay,” you ultimately surrender. “Fine.”

Pepper’s hand finds its way to the small of your back, and she beams at you. “It’s not for me, it’s for you. It’ll be good.”

So, you punch Gwen’s name into your smartphone and type out a message to her, practically begging her to come over. Instead of retreating to your room, you opt to spend time with Morgan for the first time in days. She’d forced you to watch Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir with her, and while you’d initially been slightly agitated about it, you secretly enjoyed the show.

You toggle back and forth between paying attention to the TV and surfing through various applications on your phone. You await Gwen’s response in giddy anticipation, hoping she’s not too busy to spend time with you.

She replies about half an hour after you text her, and you can feel her excitement oozing through the phone. Her answer is a cheery one, typical of Gwen. You and she were opposites in that regard. Where she always took to finding the positives in every situation, you were a glass-half-empty kind of girl. You had gotten a little better at shaking that pessimism, but that change had occurred when things were different. The person you were now—the things you’d experienced recently—made you think it would be impossible to ever be the kind of happy Gwen was. You’d always envied her for that quality. Now more than ever.

When Gwen arrives at your house, it’s almost noon. You hadn’t moved from your place on the living room couch, and while Pepper would’ve normally scolded you for being dormant in one spot for so long, you could tell how glad she was to see you out of your room.

“Be right back, Morgana,” you ruffle your sister’s hair, then pull off the blankets you’d placed on your body.

Without a glance backward at you, she gives you a thumbs up. You walk over to the front door, open it, and come face to face with your best friend.

“Hey, girlie,” she offers you a sympathetic smile. You want to roll your eyes because how could your best friend be staring at you with as much pity as everyone else? “How are you?” She pulls you in for a hug, and you inhale the calming scent of her jasmine perfume and relax. Gwen is a perpetual presence of calm in your life, and when you give yourself a second to breathe, you observe how your heart rate slows down at the sight of her. You remind yourself that she cares about you, just as everyone who has been doting on you does.

“I’m okay,” you answer honestly, stepping aside to usher her inside your home. “I’ve been worse. I’ve been better.”

She nods understandingly, stepping inside the foyer of your home. “I get it.”

“I’m glad you’re here, though,” you admit. “I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you too,” she agrees. “You look good, Y/N/N.”

“I’m hanging in there,” you let out a shaky sigh. “Doing the best I can.”

“I’m glad you texted me,” Gwen links her arm with yours, leading you to your original spot on the couch. “If you had waited any longer, I would’ve come over uninvited.”

Morgan quickly pulls her attention away from the television screen, and her eyes light up at the sight of your best friend. “Gwen!” She squeals, finding her way into Gwen’s arms. Despite only meeting the blonde a few weeks ago, she’d automatically gravitated towards her. You couldn’t be surprised, though, as Gwen was indeed a real-life princess.

She kisses your sister on her forehead. “Hey, Morgan, how are you, babe?”

“Good, because Y/N is spending time with me for once,” she replies absentmindedly, attention turned back to the television.

You let out a sigh. You usually would’ve snapped at Morgan for such an inflammatory response, but you know that what she’s saying is true. You realize that you hadn’t been there for the first five years of her life, which was entirely out of your hands. But now that you had the opportunity to connect with your little sister, the grief you felt completely inhibited you from doing so. You had to give yourself some credit for getting out of bed today, though.

“I’ll be better, Morgan, I will,” you promise. “I’m sorry.” You mumble the last part, feeling the tears start to sting your eyes.

Gwen instantly notices your change in demeanor and opts to change the subject. “So, Morgan, what are we watching?”

Your sister launches into a rant about her show of choice, but you tune her out, your mind automatically wandering to the person it always wanders to: your father. The aching pain in your chest for your father had managed to subside over the last few days, but unfortunately, it had been replaced with an ache for someone else: Peter. On the day of the funeral, you’d spent the subsequent hours after your incident with said teen superhero crying into Gwen’s arms on your bathroom floor. By the time Pepper had found you, almost everyone had already left your home. She’d observed your mascara-stained cheeks and red eyes and chalked it up to your mourning. In a way, she was right, but not about the person you were grieving. You weren’t sure how you’d even explain the whole Peter situation to her. You hoped it would resolve itself before you had to.

A few hours more of monotonous cartoon watching passed until Pepper relieved you, making up an excuse about you and Gwen having homework to do. The reality was that you hadn’t touched your homework in weeks. At this point, you barely cared if your status as valedictorian held up. You’d find it in you to worry about it at some other time.

When you and Gwen are finally alone in your bedroom, you collapse on your bed, and she takes a seat on the spinning chair at your desk. You turn on some Taylor Swift music as background noise while you and Gwen spend most of your time scrolling through your phone.

“I completely forgot that Harry was throwing a party tonight,” Gwen states after some time has gone by, typing something into her phone.

At the mention of a party, you prop yourself up in your bed. You may have been fighting a seemingly incurable case of insomnia, but it wasn’t strong enough for you to miss a social gathering. You were indeed your father’s daughter in that sense. “Party?”

“Shit, I totally should’ve mentioned something to you, but Harry told me that he already texted you,” she apologizes. “I didn’t think you’d be up to it. I’ll just hang around with you and tell him we’ll see him soon.”

You think back and try to remember receiving a text about a party from your aforementioned friend. Your memory settles on a message that you’d received a few days ago and absentmindedly replied to with a “thanks.” Frankly, it took a lot for you to respond to Gwen's messages, let alone anyone else.

“Fuck it, let’s go,” you proposition your best friend. “It’ll be fun. I need to get out of the house anyway.”

Your best friend regards you cautiously, examining your appearance. “You sure? Even Harry didn’t think you’d want to go. He texted me, like, so many times asking if I thought you were going to make it. I swear to God he even offered to reschedule it so that you could come. I bet he’s going to die if you do.”

Your stomach drops at Gwen’s implication. There was only one boy’s opinion that you cared about, and he didn’t even want to give you the time of day anymore. Frankly, you were unsure if he’d ever give it to you again.

“Yeah, I want to. I’ve been cooped up in this house for too damn long. Besides, I think this might be the only time that Pepper willingly and eagerly lets me go to a party,” you hum.

Gwen lets out an overjoyed shriek, and you wince. And while you’re more than eager for a change of scenery to clear your head, a larger portion of you hopes that a certain someone would swallow his pride and push away his contempt for you and Harry and possibly make a guest appearance at Harry’s party. You wish more than anything.

_____

It had taken practically three hours of preparation—mental and physical—until you left your house.

You let Gwen borrow a cute pale green mini dress purchased from a Marc Jacobs pop-up shop before the Blip. It brought out her eyes and accentuated her long legs. You knew her parents would’ve had a heart attack if they saw her dressed the way she was, complete with bright red lipstick and intricately drawn-on eyeliner.

You opt for a dress of the same style—a baby pink Chanel one that barely reached the tops of your thighs. You had a vague (salient) memory of Peter complimenting you in that dress some time ago, but you convinced yourself that that was not at all the reason why you’d chosen it for the party. Besides, you weren’t even sure if he was going. He wasn’t a partier and there was the very obvious issue of it being at the house of his mortal enemy, but you still had some hope!

Pepper had generously driven you to the party, a ride mainly consisting of her and Gwen chatting about arbitrary things. You tuned everything out, too busy searching for every strategy in your arsenal to assuage your budding anxiety.

When your stepmother finally pulls up in front of Harry’s apartment complex, you let out an audibly nervous sigh. Gwen swivels in her seat to examine you, then pulls your hand into hers.

“You’re okay,” she squeezes your hand. “This is supposed to be fun, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you affirm with a tiny nod. “Yeah, you’re right.”

She nudges you towards the car door. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

“Make smart decisions!” Pepper calls after you as you exit. You roll your eyes at her statement and keep your hand intertwined with Gwen’s as she leads you towards the apartment complex’s main entrance.

The elevator ride upstairs to Harry’s penthouse apartment is quiet. You could cut the tension with a knife. Gwen, ever the peacekeeper, does her best to mitigate it.

“This is the quietest I’ve ever seen you,” she jokes. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss the rowdy Y/N.”

You gnaw at your thumbnail. “I’m nervous, so nervous. I’m not even sure for what if I’m being completely honest.”

“If he’s here, you take it one step at a time. I guarantee you he’s not going to ignore you completely; he has a heart,” Gwen answers. She’d done a pretty good job not bringing up Peter thus far, but she knew you well enough to understand that most of your nerves were a result of wondering whether or not he would be making an appearance tonight.

You continue to chew on the tip of your thumb. “Mhmm.”

With a ding, the elevator stops directly inside the Osborn’s apartment. The party is clearly in full swing, with guests in every possible crevice. You let your eyes wander to Betty and Ned, who are chatting amiably. You nudge Gwen, and she gives you a smirk, her reaction a tacit affirmation of what’s budding between said duo. You take in a few other familiar faces but no one of genuine interest.

Stepping out into the foyer, you link arms with Gwen as you familiarize yourself with your environment. It’d been over five years since you’d been at Harry’s, and while you remember some things, the lack of time you had spent at his house before the Blip meant that you didn’t exactly know where you were going.

The space was beautiful, though, decorated with expensive furniture and rare paintings and equipped with enough rooms for at least two families to reside. It reminded you a lot of your apartment, and now, you and Harry had another thing in common: no father around to make the home feel a little less large. Harry’s situation was much different than yours as his father chose to be absent, and yours had, well, died, but it was something that you figured he could empathize with you on in some capacity.

Walking through the halls of the penthouse and settling in the kitchen, you let your eyes rest on a picture hanging from the wall of Harry in his Midtown High lacrosse uniform, the smile he wears so cocky and confident that it’s almost blinding. Ever the New York socialite. It makes you giggle.

“Wonder where Harry is,” you ponder.

When you receive no response from Gwen, you glance over at her. “God, I didn't think MJ would be here.” You follow Gwen’s eyes to where MJ sits on a stool at the kitchen island, head resting on her palm as she scrolls through her phone. The blonde gapes at her crush, and you giggle at her frazzled reaction. It gives you some comfort to see that you aren’t the only one nervous to see someone you have feelings for. Yeah, you want what’s happening between you and Peter to work out, but Gwen deserves happiness more than anyone. She’d been subject to some shitty romantic partners, but MJ had the capacity to change Gwen’s perception of love. She had already started doing that.

“Go talk to her, loser,” you hip-butt her.

Gwen’s emerald eyes light up at your encouragement. “You sure? I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I’ll be totally fine,” you assure her. That’s maybe 50% true, but you don’t want to give Gwen any more reasons to worry about you. Plus, you’re not a child and don’t need a babysitter. Most of the time.

“Okay, okay, I’ll see you later,” she squeezes your shoulder. “Keep me updated, Y/N, please.”

You give her a nod, your lips turning up into a smile. “Make smart decisions.”

Gwen giggles at how you mock your stepmom, then skips toward MJ, her curled blonde hair bouncing with each step she takes.

Distracted by your friend and her crush, you miss entirely the person approaching you from behind.

“Holy shit, you’re here,” a familiar male voice observes. “I didn’t think—oh my God, this is like the best surprise ever.” Your question about where the party's host was had finally been answered.

You whip around to face Harry, and you grin at him, as he pulls you into his arms. “Shit, Harry, didn’t think I’d get this reaction from you. Am I that important?”

“I’m so excited to see you,” he acknowledges. “And yeah, you’re pretty much the life of the party. You know that. Come with me.” And with that, he’s pulling you by your arm into another part of the house. You end up in the living room, where there are even more people than there were scattered throughout the house.

“Thank you for that compliment. I know the party was incredibly dull without me, but now I’m here, and you can officially start to enjoy yourself,” you tease. Harry rolls his eyes playfully and continues leading you on your original path.

You set eyes on more familiar faces. Some people from your classes that you’ve interacted with a few times here and there. Others are strangers, while some others look vaguely familiar.

“Everyone, look who decided to make an appearance!” Harry bellows, grabbing your hand and lifting it above your head to draw attention to you. People’s conversations halt as they stop to listen to Harry. “The one, the only, Y/N Stark!”

The room is silent for a good few seconds, people staring you up and down and whispering to their friends as the realization of who you are—or rather who your father is—sets in.

A few more seconds go by until you decide to break the awkward silence. “Well, what are you all staring at me for?” You laugh awkwardly. “Isn’t this supposed to be a party?!”

That’s all it takes for the crowd of moronic teenagers to erupt into raucous screams.

“You were right,” Harry calls to you. “You really are the life of the party.” You laugh awkwardly. Maybe this party wasn’t such a great idea after all?

_____

You end up having more drinks than you probably should have. When your head starts to pound, and the ceiling spins above you, you decide it’s time to slow down. You were pretty sure Harry was crossfaded, as he was much more talkative (and flirty) than usual—telltale signs that he wasn’t sober. You knew his vices of choice were weed and sometimes—only sometimes— coke, but he had sworn that he had kicked that habit. You weren’t sure what he was on tonight, but you were positive it was a combination of at least two substances.

So after stumbling with him back into the living room, tripping over your platform Versace heels a few times, and almost knocking over a few vases, you finally come to sit on a vacant couch.

“So, how’d you get your dad to agree to this?” You gesture around the room.

“Told him I was only having a few people over. He won’t know the difference, and either way, he’s halfway around the world,” he answers. “Plus, it’s not like he gives a shit about me anyway.”

“At least your dad’s alive,” you sigh (somewhat dramatically, you might add), and collapse on the couch behind you, your dress riding up slightly in the process. You observe how Harry’s eyes flicker over towards the tops of your newly exposed thighs, and while the attention would normally make you giddy, you feel the compulsion to pull the skirt of your dress further down your thighs.

Harry clears his throat awkwardly, but you watch as he examines you out of his peripheral vision.

“You, um, you look really nice tonight, Y/N. Like really, really, fucking pretty,” he blurts out.

“You already told me that, like, one hundred times, silly,” you giggle.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he answers awkwardly. “Just thought I’d tell you again.”

An uncomfortable silence settles between you for a few moments after the barraging of compliments that Harry paid you.

“Hey, I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you finally speak up, standing up abruptly and smoothing your skirt off.

Harry’s quick to respond, standing up at almost the same time as you do. “Yeah, yeah, of course. You good?”

You force yourself to smile. “Mhmm. I’ll be back in a jiff.” You watch how Harry regards you strangely at your awkward choice of phrasing, and you cringe as you turn away from him.

You stagger towards the bathroom, and when you arrive at the one closest to the kitchen, it’s packed, even considering how large it is— filled to the brim with girls doing various things like applying makeup, or smoking, or snorting illegal substances off the marble countertop. You’d pushed past two girls making out, hands groping each other wildly, not a care in the world for the fact the others were in the bathroom, too.

Not in the mood to be overwhelmed by a gaggle of girls, you exit the room as quickly as possible and go to find another vacant bathroom. In your slightly drunken stupor, it feels like it takes forever to walk down the halls of the penthouse, and you brace yourself on the wall with the palms of your hands.

Trailing down a long hallway that’s completely uninhabited, your hand closes around every door knob you come in contact with, but each time you open a door, you fail to find a bathroom. Pouting frustratedly, you decide that if the next door you open doesn’t lead to a bathroom, you’ll give up on the whole thing and return to Harry. Plus, it wasn’t like you actually needed to use the bathroom; you just needed a breather.

Setting your sights upon one last room, you absentmindedly tug the door open. Your mouth instantly falls open as soon as you do this.

The good news about the current sight before you was that you had in fact found a bathroom. The bad news was that you had stumbled upon two people in quite a compromising situation, one of whom was the person you’d been looking for the entire night. You never would’ve imagined walking in on with a girl’s legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed her fervently. They were practically dry-humping each other, and you were even sober enough to hear the tiny whimpers that she emitted.

It takes you a few seconds to process the scene that unfolds before you, and when it all finally resonates with you, you let your mouth fall open in shock. “What the fuck?”

Peter pulls away from his partner, who you finally recognize as a girl you had APUSH with during your sophomore year. You think her name is Kelly? Maybe Karen? Maybe Kristen? Even without the disdain that you currently held for her, you could objectively say that she was a bitch.

Peter’s eyes are the size of saucers, and a deep crimson blush paints his cheeks. “Y/N.”

“I can’t believe you,” you seethe. “You were rejecting me less than two weeks ago and now you’re hooking up with her.”

“I have a name,” Kendra? Kirsten? Chrysanthemum? snaps back at you, then turns to Peter, a perplexed look on her face. “She tried to get with you two weeks ago?”

“‘I have a name,’” you mock. “And he tried to get with me first. Can we talk about this outside? I don’t really want her knowing our business.”

Peter obliges you, and you make your way into the hallway together.

“I don’t really know what to say to you, Y/N,” Peter answers sheepishly.

Crossing your arms over one another you scoff. “You’ve said and done enough.”

“Y/N,” he sighs, then pauses abruptly, running an awkward hand through his hair. “After everything that happened at your dad’s funeral, I felt so shitty, we should’ve talked about us at another time. It was wrong of me to treat you that way.”

You instantly perk up at his apology, uncrossing your arms. “So what are you saying?” A large part of you is optimistic that Peter wants to try to work things out with you, but judging by his tone and disposition, you know your hopes are futile.

“I still don’t think it would be a good idea for us to be together,” he replies. “Things aren’t great right now for either of us.”

“But it’s okay for you to move on? If I would’ve walked in, like, five minutes later, you probably would’ve been fingering her,” you snap crudely.

“Who am I to tell you what to do with your life? Who are you to tell me what to do with mine? You should be able to be with whoever you want,” he replies back in the same tone.

A wicked smirk settles on your face as you analyze his words. “Oh yeah? Anyone? Well, then I guess I’ll see what Mr. Obsorn’s up to at this very moment.”

He gapes at you. “You’re being cruel.”

You pout tantalizingly. “You used to like it when I was mean to you. Now you don’t like it anymore? Strange.”

Peter’s already dark brown eyes flame so deeply that they almost turn black. “Fuck you.”

Already having turned on your heel to return back down the hallway, you let out a coquettish giggle. “Yeah, yeah, you already had your chance!”

You wait until you’re finally out of Peter’s line of vision to let the tears fall.

_____

It hadn’t taken much to convince Harry that you wanted to find yourself in some place more private. After your debacle with Peter you’d sauntered over to where he was, still situated patiently on the couch that you had both been occupying. It had only taken a few swishes of your hips, some hair tousling, and a kiss on Harry’s cheek before he had led you to his room.

You hadn’t been in his room since before the Blip when you’d been forced to work on a lab report together for AP Chemistry. Your purpose for being in his room now was clearly very different.

Within a few minutes of being alone, he’d pinned you against his bedroom door and placed his lips on yours. His hands had traveled straight to your waist, and before you knew it they were traveling even further down until they rested on your ass. The whole interaction was as lackluster as it had been the only other time you’d tried it with Harry, but you didn’t have the capacity to think straight.

He’d led you to his bed to make you more comfortable, taking note of your reaction every few seconds. You did your best to focus on the scent of his expensive cologne or how soft his hair felt as you tangled your fingers in it, or how comfortable his duvet felt underneath you, but none of this did anything to quell your nerves or, quite frankly, arouse you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers gently into your ear, moving some loose strands of hair away from your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about doing this with you again forever.”

You cringe at his admission, but once again, do your very best to suppress the apprehension that you feel. This is obviously a terrible idea, born from impulsivity, alcohol, and anger, but you can’t will yourself to stop.

You try to relax as his lips trail down from your ear to your jaw and finally to your neck, sucking tiny patterns into your skin, while his hands trail slowly underneath your dress and up your thighs. His hands are soft on your skin, but his movements are abrupt. Instead of savoring the experience, it seems as though he can’t wait to get it over with. To get you out of your clothes so that something favorable can happen.

But all you can think about is Peter. How Peter would hold you so much more tenderly, how he would paint your neck red with his kisses, and how instinctually you’d part your legs for him so he could touch you where you needed him most. How he’d trail his hands over your ribs, kiss down your stomach, and use his tongue to make you cry out his name. And it’s at that moment when you decide that you can’t do this anymore. You can no longer make stupid, capricious decisions. You can’t be with Harry in any way that’s not platonic. But most of all, you can’t be without Peter.

Mustering up the courage, you finally pull away from Harry’s kiss. “Harry, I can’t do this.” You grab his hand soothingly, hoping that this will mitigate some of the imminent hurt he’ll feel.

He regards you with concern. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

“No, no, it’s not you, it’s me,” you squeeze his hand. Cliche much? “I just feel like maybe, this is not the right time to do this. We both were drinking and that makes things so much more confusing. And, like, maybe we’re rushing into this?”

You’re not prepared for the way that Harry’s expression instantly morphs from one of confusion into one of anger. “I’m confused—what are you saying? Y/N, I’ve waited for you for twelve fucking years.”

“Harry,” you caution, finally sliding out from under his grasp. You cross your legs over one another and prop yourself up a few inches away from where he sits. “I don’t understand why you’re getting so mad about this.” You knew it was better to play stupid than to try to console him and tell him that you knew full well why he was feeling what he was. It was obvious that you had led him on and clear that you’d been doing so for years. But couldn’t he at least cut you some slack, especially during this difficult time?

“I’m mad, Y/N because I’ve spent so much of my goddamn time trying to get you to like me, trying to make you realize that I’m head over fucking heels for you,” he snaps. “I don’t know how much clearer I could’ve been. Calling you every damn day to check up on you, buying you sympathy gifts, spending this entire night with you when I could’ve actually been hanging out with other people.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” you hold up your hand to signal to him to pause his rambling. “You’re telling me that you did all of that, so what—so I’d suck your dick? So I’d let you go down on me? Do you realize how that sounds, Harry.”

“Stop playing dumb. You’ve known all along how I feel about you. How badly I want you,” Harry laughs bitterly. “And you completely strung me along. The flirting wasn’t fucking one-sided, Y/N.”

“I wasn’t entirely sure,” you mutter, looking down at your lap in embarrassment. “And I was just being nice.” Even you realize how much of a lie that is.

“‘You weren’t entirely sure,’ oh please, look me in the eye and tell me that. Look me in the eye and say that to me with a straight face, Y/N,” he dismisses you.

Your lip quivers, and you let out a shaky breath. “Stop it, Harry.”

“Oh, you’re about to cry, Y/N?” He taunts. “I should be the one fucking crying. You’re pathetic.”

You quickly wipe at the tears forming in your eyes. “Harry—Harry, you’re being mean.” You were pretty sure Peter had just told you the same thing a few minutes ago, but that wasn’t important right now.

“And you’re a bitch,” he states tersely. “You need to leave.”

“Harry,” you plead, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shrugs it off abruptly, and your hand falls back into your lap. You can barely see through the sea of tears flowing from your eyes. “Don’t be like this.”

“Get out,” he spits.

You climb off of his bed as quickly as your legs will carry you, doing your best to remain calm. “Fuck you,” you choke out. “Every time you think about why we stopped being friends—every time someone asks you what happened between us—every time you miss me—I want you to remember this moment. I want you to remember that you treated me like garbage because I wouldn’t let you fuck me.”

Harry remains silent, facing away from you and offering you no reaction. Just as your hand is on the doorknob to leave, Harry calls out your name to stop you.

“Oh and, Y/N,” he begins. You stop where you stand but don’t offer him the courtesy of turning around to meet his gaze. Just by the tone of his voice, you knew that he wasn’t going to say something pleasant. “I know all about you and Parker.”

You’re not even sure that you’re breathing at that point.

“I bet your father’s rolling in his grave right now,” he lets out a sarcastic chuckle. “I mean, Jesus, what kind of whore hooks up with someone at her dad’s funeral?”

“Go to hell,” you snap back, grabbing the handle to his bedroom door and slamming it shut.

“Maybe I’ll see you there!” Harry calls back.

It hits you at that instant that Harry is the second boy to reject you in about two weeks. It seems that regardless of how much you beg or how much you solicit yourself, you can never seem to attain the attention and affection of anyone fully.

It stings that you’d expected Harry to never be like the other boys that you and your friends complained about. He’d always been so respectful, so caring, so patient. Now, he was treating you like a stranger, as though you’d done the most egregious thing known to mankind. If this was the way that Harry truly was behind closed doors, then frankly, you wanted nothing to do with him.

_____

After your blowout with Harry, you’d gone searching for Gwen all around the apartment, and with a misplaced phone, you couldn’t contact her to find out where she’d gone. When you finally found your phone, you saw that she had texted multiple times looking for you. The last text she’d sent you had informed you that she was leaving with MJ but that she’d looked all over for you.

So, you grabbed your belongings and exited the apartment as quickly as possible. You hadn't exactly planned out what you’d do after leaving though…

You spent a good half hour wandering around the streets of the Upper East Side aimlessly, letting yourself sob uncontrollably into your tweed Gucci jacket. You had undoubtedly ruined the white fabric with your mascara-stained tears, but you didn’t care enough.

You missed your father. You needed Gwen. Hell, you would’ve even settled for being comforted by Pepper. But ultimately, you just wanted Peter. You hated that he was all you could think about. Even after getting into a fight with him that night, you still needed him. You couldn’t part ways with him so quickly, and you knew he felt the same way. You knew that he was pushing you away to protect himself, and you understood that. But you knew now more than ever that you were ready to commit to him.

You knew that the way you had pushed him away in the past was beyond fucked up, and you knew that making him adhere to your time frame meant that he didn’t owe you anything. And, of course, there was the whole Harry situation. You regretted everything that had to do with Harry—not only what had transpired tonight. But maybe, just maybe, if you could go to him, and have a real heart-to-heart, then maybe things could be different.

Another capricious decision leads you to get on the train to Queens. You hadn’t been on the Subway in years. Your father had always denounced public transportation, explaining there was no reason for it when Happy was there to take you anywhere you wanted. Now, you certainly could’ve called your godfather to pick you up, but you didn’t want him to see you so defeated. Plus, you needed the time to think about what you’d say to Peter. How would you rectify this situation? If you could rectify this situation.

The trip feels so long and arduous—especially given the time—as it requires you to get off at various stations, sometimes walking for ten minutes at a time to catch the next departing trains. Part of you enjoys this, though, as it gives you time to think about how to approach this issue, and sober up too.

When you arrive in Queens, it’s 1:08 am exactly. You had texted Pepper and told her you were sleeping at Gwen’s. Hopefully, she didn’t question it.

You know the way from this station to Peter’s apartment. A walk that normally felt like a few minutes currently felt like hours. Finally, his apartment complex coming into your line of sight makes you wish that the walk could’ve possibly been a little longer. But you muster up all the strength that you have and enter the building.

The elevator ride upstairs has you wringing out your hands nervously and pacing back and forth. It feels like the exact same experience that you had earlier today going up to Harry’s apartment. This is the worst kind of deja vu ever.

The next few minutes feel like a blur as you walk to Peter’s apartment, doing your best to breathe and not to cry. You exhale shakily and finally let your knuckle come in contact with the wooden door that leads inside the Parker’s home.

May opens the door a few seconds after your knock, an incredibly shocked look on her face. Ever the beautiful woman, she has her long hair placed in a haphazard yet stylish bun. Glasses rest crookedly on the bridge of her nose, and she wears some comfortable-looking loungewear, notably a Star Wars t-shirt (that you’re pretty sure belongs to her nephew). She was obviously sleeping before you woke her up, and now you feel terrible. Even more than you already did.

“Y/N,” she states, blinking a few times to take in the sight of you. “What are you doing here, sweetie?”

“Um, oh, God, I’m sorry,” you breathe out nervously, feeling the tears starting to fall from your eyes for the umpteenth time that night. “I came here looking for Peter, but I just realized how crazy it was for me to come here uninvited in the middle of the night. I’m gonna go now. I’m so sorry for wasting your time, Ms. Parker.”

“No, no, Y/N, please, please come in. Talk to me, something is obviously wrong. Talk to me, honey,” she urges you, grabbing your arm to lead you inside her home slowly.

“I, um, I messed up really badly, and I’m trying to make it up to Peter, but I’m doing a shitty—I mean, I’m doing a really bad job, and he won’t forgive me. But I need him to. I need to talk to him so badly,” you ramble hysterically, your chest rising and falling in uneven, labored increments. “It’s just been a really bad night.”

“Oh, Y/N,” May coos softly, wiping your tears away with her thumbs. “It’s going to be okay. It is, honey, I promise. Peter’s taking a shower, okay? But you’re more than welcome to stay here and wait until he finishes. Do you want to do that?”

“Yeah,” you nod abruptly. “Please.”

“Okay,” she offers you a concerned smile. “Come here, honey.”

She guides you over to the largest couch in the living room and takes you into her arms, rubbing comforting circles into your back. You will yourself to stop crying but you can’t. The tears feel like they’ll never stop.

Another fifteen minutes pass until you hear the water shut off in the bathroom. When it finally does, your heart jumps.

“You know,” May states gently. “I’m not sure what’s going on between you and Peter—even though I can probably make some assumptions—but I want you to know that he does care about you, and I’m sure he always will.”

“I don’t know. I feel like he hates me,” you mumble, wiping some more tears away from your eyes.

May laughs. “Never. He could never.”

You fiddle with your fingers nervously. “Yeah, I’m not so sure. Like I said, I really messed up. I don’t know how to fix it.”

May continues to rub your back soothingly. “Well, you’re here now, and that has to count for something.”

“I don’t even know what I’ll say to Peter,” you sigh.

“Just be honest with him. He’ll be able to tell when you’re putting up a front, but he’s not as stubborn as you peg him to be. Peter just wants you to know that you care,” May answers.

“I do care; so much,” you agree fervently.

The sound of Peter’s bedroom door opening brings your conversation to a halt. You hold your breath as you wait for Peter to appear. You have no idea how he will react or if he’ll even hear you out. You try to take May’s advice and praise yourself for even seeking him out. However, your anxiety berates you and calls you obsessed, desperate, pathetic. He already turned you down one time, so why are you continuing? You don’t even know.

May calls to him. “Hey, Peter, you doing okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m exhausted, though,” he yawns. You watch as he emerges from his room in nothing but a pair of loose plaid boxer shorts as he simultaneously dries his hair off with a towel. You subconsciously shift in May’s arms to get a better look at him, your eyes gliding across his taut abs and the cords of muscle that adorn his arms and hands. Your tongue instinctually darts out to wet your lip, but you do your best to quell the budding arousal that you’re experiencing. Now is certainly not the time for that way of thinking.

As he walks closer to you, you feel like you’re going to faint. You can’t remember the last time that you were this nervous.

When he finally does set eyes on you, you see many emotions flashing across his face: anger, confusion, hope?

“Hi, Pete,” you choke out, offering him a cautious wave.

“Y/N,” he states. You can see a tiny wave of concern flash across his face as he takes in your fully disheveled state. “What’s wrong?”

“So many things,” you reply through teary eyes. “So many things went wrong tonight. But, please, please, Peter, let me talk to you; please hear me out.”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” May announces softly. You pull away from her, and she gives you a knowing look as if to say, “You’ve got this!” She then slowly makes her way to her room; however, you’re pretty sure she lingers outside of it around for a few minutes.

Peter makes his way over to where you are on the couch, but instead of sitting, he remains standing with his arms crossed.

You swallow nervously before answering. “I know you say you don’t want to be with me. That you think it’s a bad idea for us to be together, but I can’t do this anymore. It’s killing me to be apart from you. I think about you all the time. I—I don’t know how much longer I can go on without you. And I don’t want to beg you to be with me, I know I look so pathetic coming here and pleading with you, but I don’t know how else to apologize.”

He stares at you blankly. “Y/N, the reason that I say we can’t be together is that I know how easily you change your mind. How easily you get confused and bored and how difficult it is for you to make sense of how your actions hurt others. In a relationship, that’s not okay. I just feel like—I don’t know, you have no regard for how other people feel sometimes.”

“You’re right,” you agree. “But you had no regard for how I felt tonight. You totally dismissed how I was feeling after I walked in on you and Kameron. Do you know how badly that hurt? The way that you made me feel is the way that you seem to feel when Harry and I do anything together..”

“First of all, her name is Keira. Secondly, I saw how you and Harry were at the party tonight. You were practically sitting in his lap begging for him to sleep with you,” Peter retorts.

“I didn’t go to the fucking party for Harry. I went to the party for you. I can barely get out of bed most days, but I got up today for you, and I made myself look pretty for you, and I went searching around Harry’s entire fucking apartment for you,” you sob. “And when you rejected me tonight, I made a complete fucking fool out of myself. I thought that trying to distract myself with Harry would make me feel better. But it didn’t—he hates me just as much as you do. He called me a whore and a bitch.”

Peter immediately sits next to you on the couch, his eyes filled with rage. Once again, seeing Peter in such a worked-up state made your thighs clench together. “He called you what?”

“He said I was a whore,” you repeat, wiping away some more tears. “He knows about us, and when I rejected him, well, he went off. Said all of these horrible things to me.”

“That fucker,” Peter mutters under his breath. “I’m going to kill him.”

“But I’m not your girlfriend, so you shouldn’t care,” you reply dryly.

Peter stares at you for a few seconds as though fully taking you in. Thoroughly analyzing your facial features and trying to understand the implications of your words. “Y/N, it’s impossible for me to stop thinking about you too. I’ve tried so hard to remind myself of what I said to you the day of your father’s funeral. Tried to force myself to stick to my words. But I didn’t mean any of that; I was an asshole. Hell, it killed me to reject you again tonight. And I do believe that we’re bad for each other; but not all the time. I do believe that this might not work. But maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance that it could?”

Your ears perk up at his words, but for once, you choose to keep your sarcastic remarks to yourself.

“I think it could,” you reply quickly. “I know it could. Because I want you, I want you so badly, and I’m willing to work for it. To work to make this good for the both of us.”

“Yeah?” Peter’s eyes flicker from your eyes to your mouth. “You sure?”

“Mhmm,” you nod enthusiastically. “More sure than I’ve ever been of anything.”

“Maybe we can try this and see how it goes,” he suggests, his hand having found its way to your cheek to stroke it.

“I’d like that,” you say. “I’d like that a lot.”

When he finally leans in to press his lips to yours, you swear you ascend to heaven. Where you had tensed up as Harry had kissed you, you relax under Peter’s embrace, letting him guide you through laying back on the couch and moving his hands to skirt up your thighs. You buck against him as his tongue moves in tandem with yours, and you tug at his wet curls.

“Wanna go to my room?” His fingers glide up and down your arm gently.

“Yes, please. But wait, don’t you think your aunt is going to be suspicious?” You inquire with a smirk.

He trails kisses from your cheek down to your neck down to your collarbone. “She’s asleep.”

“You’re positive?” You whimper, your arm resting comfortably around his neck.

He finally tugs you up from the couch and ushers you toward his room. “Spidey senses remember?”

“Is that what those are for? Not getting caught during late-night sex?” You giggle as he closes the door to his room behind you.

“We’re having sex?” He stares at you with wide eyes.

“Oh, God, shit, I just assumed?” You panic.

“Just messing with you, pretty girl,” he steps closer to you and grins. “I wanted to fuck you since the moment I saw you in this dress.” He grabs your hips to pull you closer to him, then kisses you softly again.

You feel like you barely blink before he has you on his bed, underneath him. You melt under his embrace, reveling in the feeling of his gentle kisses on your lips, your cheek, and your neck.

You bring his larger hand around to the small of your back so he can find the zipper on your dress. “I’ve been waiting for you to take it off me since I first saw you tonight,” you answer breathlessly.

He quickly obliges you, his fingers deftly pulling down the zipper to reveal your back. He plays with your spine, rubbing tiny circles into it, as he simultaneously uses his bare knee to spread your legs wider for him. You moan as his knee comes in contact with your wet center. You sit up momentarily for him to help you out of your dress, and you swear he looks as though he’s seen God when you’re finally out of the garment. You tuck your knees under your lap and straighten your spine so he can take you in. Your cheeks have a beautifully rosy glow, your chest rises and falls in uneven breaths, and your skin shines beautifully under the dim lighting of his bedroom. You watch as his eyes flicker toward your erect nipples, then down toward where you need him the most.

“You’re the most beautiful person in the entire world,” he answers as earnestly as possible. Connecting your lips with his again, you bring his left hand to cup your right breast. His slim fingers instantly go to tweak your nipple, and you moan into his mouth. When he replaces his fingers with his mouth, you almost pass out. He’s barely even given you any stimulation, and you already feel like you might come. You let your hands play with his hair as he alternates between swirling his tongue on your left and right breast.

“Touch me, Petey,” you practically beg. “I’m so wet for you.”

Peter lets one hand travel down from your breast to your panties. He curses when his fingers come in contact with the soaked material. “Gonna take this off, okay? Lift your hips for me.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Okay.” He tugs the material down your thighs, leaving you fully naked.

His hands rake over your stomach. “My beautiful girl. I really did miss you so much.”

His words alone are enough to make you cry, but when he drags his index finger from your clit down your opening, you think you might start crying real tears. “Peter, Peter, please don’t tease.”

“We’ll see,” he shrugs. “How badly do you want my fingers?”

“More than anything,” you plead. “Please.”

“Someone’s desperate,” he tsks. “Good thing I’m feeling generous.”

You could almost laugh at how submissive you’ve become to him. But it’s so hot to see him assert some dominance over you that you don’t mind it at all.

You yelp when he finally inserts his finger into your pussy. The wet, squelching sound, in combination with his rapid thrusts, makes your head fall back in euphoria. You let your hand travel down to play with your clit, and he adds a second finger, then eventually a third.

“You make me feel so good,” you cry out. “God, Peter.”

The stimulation of your clit in conjunction with the feeling of Peter’s fingers curling upward is heavenly. When he curves his index finger upwards to hit your g-spot, you let out a yelp, and your eyes widen. You’re so close and it’s only been five minutes.

“You gonna come for me?” Peter murmurs, speeding up his pace. You give him an enthusiastic nod, and when he leans forward to take your right nipple into his mouth, swirling it around his tongue, you let out one last cry and finish on his fingers, stifling your moan with your free hand.

“That was—that was good,” you offer Peter a blissed-out smile, reaching up to caress his cheek.

You return to kissing each other for a few minutes, moaning as your sensitive clit comes in contact with Peter’s boxer-clad erection. He finally pulls away to remove his boxers from his body. Your fingers glide across his abs as he strips himself of the last piece of clothing she wears.

He’s just as pretty as you remember��painfully hard against his stomach, at least over 6 inches, and pink tip leaking with precum. You have the urge to get on your knees and place him into your mouth and make him cry out your name. You take him in your hand and wrap your hand around him, letting your thumb brush across his tip and collecting some of his arousal on your fingertip.

He bucks his hips against your hand and groans out. “Jesus, babe.” You beam at the pet name he gives you. You set a comfortable pace, stroking him faster from tip to base. You take the opportunity to mark up his neck and play with his abs.

“Do you like the way I make your cock feel?” You purr in his ear. “You’re so hard for me. Can’t wait for you to be inside me.”

“If you keep doing that, I’ll come all over you,” he moans enthusiastically. “Let me fuck you.”

You separate for a minute for Peter to grab a condom from his bedside table. “I see you planned for this.”

“I was hopeful,” he shrugs with a tiny smile. Unwrapping the package, he’s quick to place the condom on himself.

“I want to ride you,” you assert when Peter pulls you back into his embrace. Peter kisses you again, this time much more slowly and sensually. You settle on top of him, rubbing your core against his cock. You moan into his mouth as he grinds himself against you.

“I missed you a lot, Y/N,” Peter repeats slowly. “I’m really glad we made up. I—I care about you so much.”

Your mouth falls open in pleasure when Peter slowly inserts himself inside your pussy. “Go slow,” you breathe out.

He grunts as he slowly sheaths himself inside of you. Despite being soaked, it takes you a minute to adjust to his size, as you hadn’t had sex in, well, over five years. Your fingers could only have so much of an impact on you.

When he finally bottoms out, you both share a collective moan. Peter brushes a few strands of hair out of your face. “So gorgeous.”

You lift yourself up slowly to ultimately land back on his lap again. “Peter,” you whimper. “Oh my God.”

You rise up and down more quickly on his cock, stifling your moans in his neck. When he starts to meet his thrusts with yours, your head falls back. Peter keeps a secure hold on the small of your back as he continues a consistent pace.

“Missed you. Missed your tight little pussy,” he moans into your ear. He licks and sucks at your breasts, marking them up with his teeth, and swirling your nipples under his tongue.

A comfortable silence arises between you two. The way that he stares into your eyes and cradles your body in his makes your stomach swarm with butterflies and your head go dizzy. When his hand goes down to your clit, you feel the familiar sensation building in your stomach. A look of desperation flashes over your eyes as Peter speeds up his thrusts, and allows his fingers to dance more quickly across your clit.

“Peter, Peter, Peter,” you chant. “I’m gonna—keep going just like that.”

One particular enthusiastic thrust makes you scream out, and your hand instantly flies to your mouth to cover it.

“You feel so good around me,” Peter grunts. “I’m close, too.”

The more Peter continues at the pace he’s established, the closer and closer you get to that very special precipice. And then, like an explosion, it hits you out of nowhere.

You shriek, rising up and down on Peter at an animalistic pace. “Peter, fuck, Peter, I’m coming. Oh my God, baby!” He presses his lips to yours quickly and moans into your mouth, as your pussy contracts, and you gush all over him. Your vision is enveloped by nothing but complete white, as you experience a level of pleasure that you’re sure you’ve ever achieved before. Making love to Peter after having resolved most of your problems makes you feel giddy in a way that you’d only dreamed about. To feel so loved and appreciated and worshiped by him are things you wouldn’t trade for anything.

That familiar look settles in his eyes after you’ve orgasmed, and you work to help him reach his own climax. “Y/N, shit, Y/N.”

“Come on, baby, give it to me, Peter,” you beg, repeating your past movements. “Come for me, Petey.”

With those words of encouragement, he lets out a choked groan that makes you moan out with him and buries his face in your neck as he explodes into the condom.

When he finally comes down from his high, he helps you off of him to lay next to him. Grabbing a washcloth from the bathroom, he helps you clean yourself up and then settles into bed next to you.

“Hi,” you say softly, moving some curls away from his forehead.

“Hi,” he iterates, his hand coming to rest on your hip.

“I’m so sorry for everything. I know I’ve said that already, but Peter, you mean so much to me,” you state sincerely. You can feel a lump forming in your throat at your admission. “I understand that it took so much for you to forgive me, and I understand that you didn’t actually want to in the first place. But I can’t be without you in my life. I just need you to understand that.”

“It was killing me to be away from you, too, Y/N. Like I told you, I missed you just as much,” he replies softly.

“All I’ve ever wanted was to be with you. I hope you realize how much I truly mean that,” you tell him. “I only pushed you away because I was afraid of losing you. I thought that if I let you be there for me, then you’d get tired of me and my problems. That you’d leave me.”

You register that you’re crying when Peter swipes away some translucent droplets from your cheeks. “I could never leave you. You are incredibly annoying sometimes, and so stubborn, and a little bit aloof, but that doesn’t stop me from caring about you like I do.”

You take the opportunity to bring your reunion to a close by wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him gently. “Goodnight, Pete.” You snuggle into his embrace, and he lets his head fall into your neck comfortably, his hands still rubbing languid circles on your back.

You sleep wonderfully that night—certainly the best you have in weeks. When you finally wake up around 11 am the next morning, you notice that Peter is still asleep next to you. Smiling softly at him, you rake your fingers through his curls and place a kiss on his forehead lovingly.

Untangling yourself from his sheets and letting your feet hit the floor of his bedroom, you rummage through his drawers for an oversized t-shirt to pull over your body. Tugging your panties over your legs, you also pull on some of Peter’s fuzzy socks to keep your feet warm.

In your exhausted but elated stupor, you barely have time to think about the fact that May is probably up and waiting for Peter in the kitchen.

It is a Sunday morning after all.

Dragging your feet to the kitchen, you let out a tired yawn.

“Good morning, Peter—oh wow, Y/N?” May yelps, almost dropping the coffee mug in her hand. “I didn’t know you stayed the night.”

“Oh, um, yeah, it was late by the time that Peter and I finished talking, so I just slept over. I hope that was okay,” you answer uncomfortably.

Her eyes rake over the outfit that you wear. She obviously knows what you stayed over to do. “No problem.”

You quickly pivot on your heel to walk back to Peter. “I’m going to go wake up Peter.”

May nods awkwardly, and you make your way back toward Peter’s room.

When you arrive back inside Peter’s room, you take a careful seat back on the edge of his bed. The action awakens him, and he turns to face you.

“Hey, baby,” you call to him gently. “Did you sleep well?”

“Because you were here, yeah,” he offers you a cheeky smile. “Why are you smiling so wide, pretty girl?” You blush at the nickname as he takes his hand in yours.

“Just happy,” you answer genuinely. You snuggle up next to him and let your eyes flutter closed. And for the first time in weeks, you register that you’d woken up honestly, indisputably happy, and naturally, just as you’d expected, Peter was the cause.

#peter parker x y/n #peterparker x reader #peterparkersmut #peterparker x y/n smut #tonystark #marvel #gwen stacy #harry osborn #smut #marvelsmut #tom holland #harry osborn x reader #mj #zendaya

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wolfish-trickster · 4 years ago

Text

Liar

Part 3

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 1,7K

Warnings: angst, typos, everything sad besides doggo

Tag list:@gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld @belovedadam @mascaracoffee @serebrum @myworldgoesboomz

Loki felt miserable. If only he knew what would he start with that lie. Why couldn't he tell her Y/N is his cousin or something? She and her golden-fish-like IQ would've believed him. Damn him! Damn him and Tony for making him do this! Why couldn't Stark do it himself! It was his idea afterall!

Loki was lying on a rug in his bedroom. He didn't feel like he deserved the luxury of a warm soft bed. He was looking through photos and selfies of Y/N in his phone. Her happy smile, her arms wrapped around him in a hug in his favourite selfie of you (his wallpaper), her two fingers giving him horns from behind his back and him doing it back to her. He counted, he had only 7 pictures of her in total. 'I should've taken pictures of her more often,' he thought to himself and wiped his eyes to get clearer view. He should've took a picture of her doing the most mundane things. Reading a book, drawing on a windowsill, chatting with someone. She always had this spark in her eyes whenever she talked about some of her interests. He wanted to see that spark again.

Loki caught himself dreaming of you again. 'Let her go,' he told himself. 'It will be better for her and you.'

But he didn't want to get better. Not without her. But he fucked up big time. He apologized. He showed her a proof of his innocense. She chose to put space between you two. And that was okay, right? He's already used to it, right?

His eyes were staring outside the window the whole night, but he wasn't watching anything. He needed them open, for whenever he closed them he saw you. Either crying and screaming like you did few day ago, or sad smile you gave him few hours ago, or your happy grin you have worn what seemed like ages ago.

Sky changed its shades of blue from dark to light. The morning sun made him realize that no, he isn't used to it.

The need to walk to your room was big. But he couldn't. He promised to leave you alone if you wanted. And you did.

So instead he hid in one of the old rooms everyone forgot about and never really used. He needed to be alone.

No one came looking for him yet. The only sign of someone remembering his existence was one message from Tony. Something about the info Loki got from that woman being useless and agents are taking the lead from the Avengers. Good to know he unknowingly destroyed his whole relationship with Y/N for nothing.

When he read those words the first time he wanted to smash the phone on nearest wall, but that meant losing all the pictures with you and he simply couldn't do that.

Loki wandered where where you. If you were safe. Maybe you took your dog out. Or made someone do it, so you didn't have to risk meeting him in the halls. Thought of you still avoiding him sickened him.

His lower back started to ache from sitting in pragraph position for too long. He decided to stretch and walk a little, clear his head. The plan was to go to kitchen, steal something small to eat (not because he was hungry, he needed a distraction) and go back to his secret room. Or the roof. What will came first.

With a glass of water and pockets filled with chocolate he started walking towards the exit.

Suddenly he heard small clawed paws hitting the floor making soft clicking noises. He followed the distand sound to find your little pup, Rex, walking around as if he owned the place. If he was here then you'll be nearby. Loki looked around the room, but besides the small dog and him it was empty.

When the little guy got his sent into his nose, he turned and sprinted towards Loki. He expected the pup to bite him, just like you promise you will train him, and mentally prepared himself for attack of small dull needles on his ankles.

To his surprise Rex started jumping on his leg, trying to reach his hand. When Loki lowered it to his level he started to lick it, his tail wagging wildly. Good to know at least he doesn't hate him.

"Did you escape her and went on an adventure, little guy?" he asked scratching behind his ears. Rex rolled on his belly and silently asked for scratches. Loki was more than happy to provide.

"Well, we can't leave it like that now, can we? She'll be worried sick if she doesn't find you in her room. Like this one time when she couldn't find her favourite plushie from childhood. We turned her whole room upside down just to find it. Later that day she realized she accidentally left it in my bedroom," he smiled sadly at the fond memory. "We laughed a lot afterwards. I fear she'll never laugh in my presence again," he stopped scratching.

Rex sat up and tilted his head at him.

"I know, I know, it's basically my fault. And I understand why she feels like that. Who wouldn't after their best... ex best friend said those things about them. I just wish I could turn back time and change everything."

"And why would you do that?" loki turned around to be met with face of none other than Tony Stark.

"You would never understand," he looked away.

"I'm capable of undertanding a lot of things, don't underestimate me."

Rex found new sent in the room and ran up to Tony. "Aaaw, is he yours? I never thought you'll be a dog person," Tony picked him up and got a good look on him, while Rex was trying to reach his face with his tongue.

"No, he's Y/N's. He must've escaped from her bedroom. Please, take him to her," he started walking away.

"No way, your friend, your problem. I'm already a very busy man even without pets," he put Rex on the floor and gently nudged him towards Loki.

"Here's the thing, I can't. I can't face her. And I am more than sure she doesn't want to face me."

"What happened? Don't tell me it's some petty reason like 'you picked the wrong movie' or 'those flowers don't go with ma vase'."

Loki rolled his eyes and took Rex to his hands. "No. She heard me telling lies to that woman we needed for those informations and now she doesn't trust me. I doubt she ever will."

"Just tell her how it was. How hard can that be?"

"Don't you think I already thought of that? I showed her the video from security cameras yesterday and she still doesn't want to go back to being my friend. And I understand why," he stared deeply into Rex's puppy eyes. As if the little dog felt his sadnes he tried to cuddle up to his chest.

"Then pray tell, cuz I could never understand women's logic."

Loki played with Rex's soft fur. "She knows I'm a great liar. She might think if that was a lie and she couldn't tell, then might be wondering how much of other things I told her were lies," Rex started chewing on Loki's thumb. "The truth is I never told her a single lie. Only that one time when she asked me if I'm smiling because I saw Thor fall down the stairs," he chuckled.

"Then tell her you never lied to her," Tony suggested.

"I can't. She won't believe me. Didn't you hear what I just said?"

"I did. But listen, life is complicated enough already, why making it more miserable by not talking each other's issues out? Just go to her, return her dog and ask to talk to her."

"What if she slams the door in my face just like the last time? Then what genious?"

Tony shrugged. "I don't know. Write her a letter and slide it down her door?"

Loki rolled eyes and started walking in the direction of your bedroom. "Your advices suck," he called behind his back.

Here he was. Standing in front of your door, which was slightly ajar. Explaining how Rex got out. Behind those doors he laughed with you, played games with you, watched movies while cuddling with you. So many pleasant memories. Scarred by the freshest one.

He remembered the fear and panic he felt when you started shouting at him. He remembered every last word you told him. Those kinds of words only left your mouth in his worst nightmares. He never thought he'll hear them in real life.

Tiny bites along his wrist brought him back to present. He didn't know what to do. Should he stand there and wait until you come out? Or should he knock? Call out for you?

His questions got answered sooner than he thought. "What are you doing here?" he heard her voice coming from the opposite end of the hallway.

He quickly looked down at Rex in his arms, the opened doorand realized how it must look to you. "I'm not stealing him, I swear. I found him wandering around the Tower," he held him out to you.

You took him, your fingers brushed his for a moment. You coughed. "Ehm, thank you. For bringing him back, I mean."

"No problem," he stood there awkwardly, hamd behind his back.

He figured you didn't want to say anything more and he took a step to walk around you.

"Hey," you called out.

"Yes?" he asked hopefully, waiting for your next words.

"I...... uhm," you bit your lip nervously.

He saw her wilingness to talk as his chance. "Can I speak with you? About all of what happened? Please?"

You looked up at him, a small relief in your eyes. "Actually, that's what I wanted to ask you."

"Oh, okay," he felt like an awkward teen rather than over century old man.

Both of you stood in the hallway. Until you broke the silence. "Well, do you want to come in?" you pointed at your door.

"Yeah, okay. Why not? Your bedroom is nice for talking," Loki mentally slaped himself across the face for saying such stupidity.

"Yes. I suppose it is," you gave him a small smile and closed the door behind the two of you.

#loki #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki angst #loki x reader angst #rex is a good boi #im still sorry

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isalabells · 4 years ago

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can u pls give me all ur thoughts on clarissa franklin? im legit so curious!!

Let me preface this, anon, by saying that this might be the most challenging ask I’ve received to date. That’s why I let it sit there for more than 1.5 weeks while agonizing over it on every run I’ve been on in between. So hats off to you because dang!

Thoughts on characters in the DDF universe are generally a tricky thing because none of them – not even (or: especially not) our three mains – are designed to be anything but two-dimensional. This of course shouldn’t stop anyone from diving deeper into some kind of character analysis, but personally, I’ve always found it a bit off-putting alas I probably have fewer thoughts and headcanons on the folks inhabitating the Rocky Beach universe than one might think. I don’t even find it that compelling to look at from a meta perspective (where, in contrast, I could spend hours talking and writing about TKKG’s narratives. And in fact I have.) So what’s mainly of interest to me here is looking at Minninger aka the one who invented dear Clarissa, and to speculate about his motives for telling the Franklin stories the way he did.

In an attempt to look at it from an in-universe POV first: Amazing character, most likely the best female villain this series will ever see (food for thought: there haven’t been that many to begin with, and most of the ones we got were either written by BJHW or Minninger. MUCH to ponder on), personally, I find her way more fun than Hugenay, giving her two (or three, if the rumors are true) follow-up stories is more than deserved. Furthermore, her legacy is that she appeared in two absolute killer episodes, which many (rightfully) consider to be some of the best the series has to offer (so do I, but plot twist, the best for me is not Stimmen aus dem Nichts but Rufmord). 100/10, can relate to Bob Andrews bc I already grew infatuated with her and she didn’t even need to hypnotize me for that. A great cunning, devious, manipulative, stone-cold bitch ready to kill a man or two at any given point, it’s what we all need and deserve. Shouldn’t even be that big of a surprise that this role slaps so hard bc the majority of things Judy Winter does gain IconicTM status, it is the law. Ever since @charlyritter brought up the idea that Sabine Vitua would be the perfect choice to play her in a live action movie, I cannot stop thinking about this. (And ever since I mistook a picture of young Sabine Vitua with short hair for Bibiana Beglau I am slightly fixated on the idea that she’d be a great fit as well.)

From a more sober POV: I’ve talked about this before but SadN is actually a very sloppily edited adaptation (e.g. Katharina Brauren most def was recorded separately, there are a lot of inaccuracies-that-easily-could-have-been-avoided-with-some-proper-research-and-a-capable-editor in the script etc.) AND most of it is just Minninger ripping off other stories published via EUROPA (I know none of you are aware of this bc y’all lack the refined taste to engage with TKKG, but the entirety of getting phone calls from the dead? Please listen to #82 Spuk aus dem Jenseits which got published in 1991 aka six years prior to SadN, which Minninger himself edited, and which imo is actually WAY more creepy, esp bc Wolf played a lot with elements from Hofmann’s Sandmann. While we’re at it, I might also drop that Franklin’s iconic line “Reiß Dein Maul nicht so weit auf, sonst schieb ich Dir eine Faust rein, an der Du erstickst“ also first appears, word for word, in TKKG #8 Auf der Spur der Vogeljäger. Well oops.) NEVERTHELESS I argue none of it matters in the long run bc the adaption makes it worth the while. Minninger himself is a trickster in that regard bc what he lacks in writing skills (lbr he doesn’t have any, his stories are mediocre at best) he makes up for in hedonism. As in: he mainly writes about what interests him most in a DDF setting (queer characters, middle-aged and/or old yet powerful ladies, horror vibes, scary, disturbing stuff bordering on the macabre and ludicrous) and designs his characters specifically so that he can cast all the actresses and actors he admires. (Honestly, that was actually a question I sent to him back in 2004 when his Fragebox at the rbc was still running; I wanted to know if he already knew he wanted JW to play CF, and he wholeheartedly confirmed.)

In this case, he got especially lucky bc I am firmly convinced he had no clue at all that Andreas Fröhlich and Judy Winter would play off each other so mesmerizingly. I mean, how could he have known? JW being great and killing it was not a surprise, sure, but Andreas was a far stretch away from being the hot shit he evolved into ever since. And if they hadn’t sold their two extremely unusual scenes so well… both episode and the character would have flopped, I think.

But it didn’t, and then Rufmord came along and the rest is history.

I have severe problems with Signale aus dem Jenseits ESPECIALLY bc of the way the narrative treats good ol’ Clarissa here, and I rather wish this ep had never gotten published in the first place. I don’t want to blow up this reply even further, but allow me to quote a snippet from the episode commentary I left on the rbc a while ago, as it sums up some of my troubles quite nicely:

“[Die] Wortwahl einer „Demontage“ Clarissa Franklins hat mich ins Grübeln gebracht. Vielleicht soll genau DAS die Krux der Sache sein – den Abstieg und Ruin einer Figur nachzuzeichnen, die einst bereit war, eiskalt über Leichen zu gehen und die selbst in Situationen, in denen sie auf den ersten Blick die Machtlose zu sein scheint, doch alle Fäden in der Hand hält und Menschen spielt wie Marionetten. In dem Fall wären die abgeschwächten Anleihen/Rezitationen/Referenzen an die Vorgängerfolgen natürlich geschickt (und bewusst?) gewählt und verstärken den Eindruck, dass Clarissa Franklin tief gefallen ist und mittlerweile nach jedem ihr sich bietenden Strohhalm greift (= Schmierenkomödie als Rache an drei Teenagern). Soll dies eine legitime Lesart des Textes sein, dann ist das Narrativ für mich allerdings falsch aufgebaut, weil es sich in zu vielen Nebenschauplätzen verliert.”

From the pov of my fangirl heart and all critical thinking put aside: Clarissa Franklin probably was the first character I was truly obsessed with!? In a way that I spent my entire Easter holiday break reading and listening to Rufmord 24/7. Thinking about her and her encounter with Just, Peter and Bob for hours each day. Desperately longing for more content with her. While my teenage self as evolved a bit, I’m still fond of her. So as much as I want Minninger to just let her rest, I am also hoping that his forth story featuring her only got postponed and not scratched entirely. The heart wants what the heart wants.

#also not to forget that I watched my first Tatort ever bc of Judy Winter (yes this is about Reifezeugnis bite me)#anaon this was a lot of fun altho answering this ask nearly killed me #sorry for trailing OT so much but *points to preface*#replies #isabel for ts #me @me: ...hoo boy u sure like to talk don't you

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tooruluv · 4 years ago

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Um hi, can I request a haikyuu matchup?(if you dont do them than ignore this) Im female, 5'4, big nerdy glasses (like the black ones that emo girls in 2004 wore with no lense) hip length wavy dirty blonde hair, ESTP, Sagittarius, hot headed amd headstrong, and very very stubborn, but ride or die for my friends. I also lowkey love adrenaline and play rollerderby as a jammer (i beat the shit outta other players) love anime, books, art and writing. Kinda annoying and makes jokes to cope with sadnes

the way you and kageyama would be the perfect couple. the stubbornness, the competitive nature.... y’all would give me and oikawa a run for our money (hehe). ANYWAY he would lowkey be a softy and go along with your jokes when you’re sad, and hold your hand, and give back hugs... but in public y’all would both be the Headstrong Duo that seems to not give a fuck about anyone. i would love to see it

when i say y’all would find ways to up each other on dates i’m not kidding. i feel like y’all would have a really good dynamic where you guys know the love for each other, the trust and relationship, but would constantly be like “ok so i would CRUSH you at this...”

#tooruluv🍄ships

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sugcrpill · 2 years ago

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introducing maren...

BASICS:

NAME: Maren Reiher

MEANING: Maren meaning “star of the sea” and Reiher, which translated in English means Heron, which is a freshwater bird.

NICKNAME: None, but she wouldn’t hate to have some, especially if they’re nice nicknames from friends.

GENDER: Cis-Female (She/Her)

HEIGHT: 5′9″

AGE: Old, but right now she looks about 24.

ZODIAC: Pisces

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English, Ancient Greek.

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS:

HAIR COLOUR: Very blonde

EYE COLOUR: Blue

VOICE: Elle Fanning

DOMINANT HAND: Right

POSTURE: Relaxed, nothing too strictly proper but not sloppy either.

SCARS: None

TATTOOS: None

MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S): None

ADULT LIFE:

OCCUPATION: Florist

CURRENT RESIDENCE: A small cottage on the edge of town, with a beautiful kept and cared for well that lives on the edge of her land.

CLOSE FRIENDS: TBD???

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

FINANCIAL STATUS: She has enough money to be comfortable.

DRIVER’S LICENSE: No

CRIMINAL RECORD: No

VICES: Chocolate & Wine

SEX AND ROMANCE:

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Pansexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Panromantic

ABILITIES:

Maren is a Naiad, these are a type of female spirit, or nymph, who are known to preside over wells, springs, streams, brooks and other bodies of fresh water. Nymph’s aren’t immortal beings but live especially long lives, spanning over many millennium's if they remain well taken care of. There are sub divisions of Nymph’s, the Naiad are Nymph’s who reside of bodies of fresh water. Nymph’s are spirits that are bound to specific places in nature, and while they often dwell deep in unpopulated areas in nature they’re often described as being beloved creatures.

Nymph’s powers vary depending on what elements in nature they’re in control of. Maren’s strongest abilities are underwater resuscitation, pressure resistance, cold resistance, enhanced durability, as well the ability to control the flow of water.

There are some shared abilities & weaknesses when it comes to Nymphs. They have the ability to undergo changes to their appearances, though the divinities can only change their form to that of other maidens, a form that is always described as fairy-like, and fair. Like all the nymphs, Maren also possesses the gift of prophecy. This being the reason for which why many of the springs and fountains over which they presided were believed (by ancient humans) to inspire the mortals who drank of their waters with the power of foretelling future events.

LIMITATIONS:

Maren’s life force is directly linked to the part of nature in which she’s in control of. Her life will most certainly end if this specific part of nature were to die out. Maren specifically is tied to a fresh water well that sits on the edge of her property in Babylon, so if this well were to be destroyed it would inevitably end Maren’s life as well. This doesn't mean that the nymph cannot leave her environment but if one of the two is injured or damaged, the other will also suffer the effects, including death.

Like many Fay Folk, she can be harmed by things made of iron/steel, it would burn her flesh. Another common weakness of the Fay are milks and creams, which are intoxicating to them, causing them to behave as if they’re drunk on alcohol, which does not effect them as strongly.

Maren would never die of old age nor illness, but she’s not necessarily immortal, and could be acquiesce to death in various other forms.

PERSONALITY:

For all her years Maren still seems quite innocent. She is kind, gentle, and unabashedly loyal to those who hold meaning in her life. Nymph’s are often described as living legends of eternal beauty and grace, existing as the ideal image of perfection in the imaginations of mortals. Maren is no exception to this. While she is quite beautiful she’s also childlike in her playful, generous behavior. She feels her every emotion with intensity, even the ones she wishes she could not feel at all. Anger, jealousy, and even great sadness.

BACKGROUND:

Maren has been living on the lands of East Texas long before the settlements, developments, even before religion. Promised to the land she presides over, protecting a nurturing the well that she’s been bound to. A millennia was spent staying out of sight of humans, and other beings, tending to the land that she called her home. Long over are the days when Nymph’s were worshipped, the days when the ancient’s would pay tribute to the Goddess Artemis, and the Nymphs in ceremony. The days of going to the fountain Nymphaeum, and praying to the water spirits, all over. The survivors of Nymph kind are spread out now, much like Maren, staying near to the land they’re charged with caring to.

Many of Maren’s sisters have died. The American industrial revolution brought about many of their deaths as forests were knocked down to make way for great new roads, rivers drained and bodies of water polluted with factory waste. There were however a lucky few, like Maren, who were bound to things that remained far out of the way of human kind, and their unforgiving need for advancement.

Luck would have it that when people began settling into Babylon that the land where Maren had been living went untouched, for many, many years. On rare occasion she would be met with men who tracked her lands, finding themselves at the natural well that she loved and looked over so dearly, replenishing themselves with its water before returning to their hunting. Maren would stay out of sight, simply watching and observing human kind, and the non-humans which seemed so drawn to the land alike. It wasn’t until the 1960′s that Maren found herself ‘coming out’ introducing herself to the town and it’s occupants, disguised as a human woman. It was easy, nobody ever asked too many questions. When it came time that she might be caught through deception by her lack of aging she would simply change her appearance, the way many nymph’s would when they found their simple lives being disturbed.

In the years since introducing herself into the public, and the lives of those who inhabit Babylon, she had built herself a “proper” human dwelling on the property of the well she’s bound to. She looks over the land, and all nature fiercely, as she has done since the beginning. Maren has merged herself into the town, even getting herself a simple yet humble job working at a florist, arranging bouquets of flowers and ringing up customers. She’s aware of the presence that supernatural beings have in town, and feels safer knowing that she’s not alone in an endless sea of humans here. There’s however, an element of survivors guilt that she holds within her knowing that so many of her kind are gone while she still lives, it can at times become overwhelming to think how one thing in this world is keeping her alive and how vulnerable it is. Though, these are things she tries to not often dwell on for too long.

#* ⠀ ⠀ 🌺 ⠀ ⠀ / ⠀ ⠀ maren reiher⠀ ⠀ 、 ⠀ ⠀ intro ⠀ ❫

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thevii · 4 years ago

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city name: tbd forest name: Rhen Yvael race: Viera, Rava gender: male sexuality: bisexual age: 39

personality: reserved, reclusive, cautious, cynical, antisocial, short-tempered, territorial

tribe: The Viera of the village Yvael were a small and reclusive tribe, even by Viera standards. Few outsiders even knew they existed and these few were met with violent resistance whenever they dared to stray too close to the tribe’s village.

bio:

act1 - the early years: Rhen was born into the Rava tribe that lived in the village Yvael. As is custom, he was taken in by another male Viera at the age of 13, not even a year after presenting as male. He was a wood warden by the name of Firn.

Rhen had seen the man once before. He couldn’t have been more than 4 years old at the time, but the stern gaze of dark red eyes, as well as the authority with which Firn held himself made an impact on Rhen that kept the memory of the wood warden clear in his mind.

They met again ten years later when Firn, as is tradition claimed Rhen as his charge and took him away from the village to teach him the word of the woods.

Many years came and went as Rhen grew up under the strict guidance of his mentor. It was a long and strenuous journey, but Rhen overcame every challenge his mentor confronted him with and learned all that it takes to survive on his own.

The rite of passage left quite a few scars on him, but he wears them like badges of honor since they mark the completion of his transformation from a wide-eyed kit to a full-fletched protector of the forest.

After this, Rhen and Firn parted ways. Rhen hasn’t seen or heard anything from his mentor since he stepped back into the shadows of the trees on the day of his own ascension to a warden of the woods.

Nearly 17 years have passed since.

act 2 - the young warden: In that time, following Viera tradition Rhen has returned to the place of his birth but twice, his own visits less frequent than those of others of his status. He knows he fathered a few kits, only one of which presented as male upon turning 13, but when he returned to the village after this occured, the kit was already claimed by another warden and whisked away to be taught in the same way he was by Firn.

There was more disappointment and sadnes in him than he expected when he discovered this. A weird sense of longing for a purpose besides the guarding of the forest around him nagging at the back of his mind after years of solitude. He shook that feeling quickly and returned to the woods with greater haste than the first time around.

act 3 - the taste of ash: The cycle of his returning would have gone on until his dying day if it hadn’t been for he poachers that kept trying to claim Yvael territory as their own.

While the Yvael wardens were quite used to this kind of intruders, the frequency with which they had to fight them off increased rather alarmingly in the last year. Where Rhen was forced to confront them only once a year before, now it had become every month and every time they came closer to the village.

But the Yvael, despite there small number, were unyielding and the poachers unable to drive them out of their home.

That was until the village was struck by a weird sickness. The kits suffered it first, many died, the females were stronger, but even they eventually began to whither away. Rhen, as the other wardens was forced to watch as his home and family suffered, unable to do anything about it.

It was then that Firn reappeared.

He told Rhen of how the poachers poisoned the water the Yvael used and that they were planning an ambush.

Everything happened so fast afrerwards. They rushed to the village, and fought with all their might, but they were too late to make any sort of difference and eventually were overcome by a small group of Miqote who had sworn their allegiance to the poachers in search of quick coin.

Rhen had never fought anyone like them before. They weren’t slow and brutish like the other outsiders he had encountered before, not like any of the Miqote he knew either. These cattes were not only quick and vicious, but cruel and destructive.

The fight ended with him tied down and with half of his face pressed into the dirt. Taunts filled his ears as he was forced to watch as they decapitated his mentor right in front of him.

To this day Rhen remembers the smell of blood and ash, the sight of his home burning and his mentors eyes clouding over. Some nights his ears still ring with the screaming.and wailing of kits and women alike and with the laughter of those who bested him.

act 4 - far from home:

Rhen was certain he would suffer the same fate as his late mentor, but like some of the few other survivors, mostly children and a few women, he was shipped off to a place with a name as foreign as the faces that greeted him when he was first let out from the cage he’d been put into for the journey.

He doesn’t remember much from that time other than looking down into a crowd of foreigners before everything went foggy. His rage and grief had him lash out at his captors and when they finally had had enough of that, they gave him something that made his eyelids heavy and his mind dull.

There had been yelling after, shouting of ever higher climbing numbers, the dull sound of wood on wood and then he had been whisked away once more, away from what remained of his people for good.

...

#about rhen

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lilmajorshawty · 7 years ago

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The zodiac signs and their time periods.

So I’ve noticed that the zodiac signs and planets give of the energy of particular eras that have passed in our history. And I’ve noticed this to be the case with people whom have a heavy dominance in a specific sign/heavy aspects to that particular planet and their personal planets/house stellium and so on. And strangely enough these people not only exhibit traits of that people presented in that particular sequence in time but they resonate with those from that particular timeline..

⚔️⛓⚙️For starters Aries/Martian doms/1st house stellium/and heavily aspected mars: these guys and gals are the instinctual’s. They exhibit traits of mans earlier descents on the planet. Eras ruled by body movement and more physical means of expression resonate with them. Aries is the time of the Spartans I wouldn’t tie them in with peaceful Rome. They are the world wars. They are the mogul conquest. They are the napoleonic wars and the birth of martial arts. Many with these placements exude a war in their nature. You smell the battle from them. Their steps. Their struts. You feel their anger and their devotion. Many with these placements are seen as intimidating and awe inspiring for this reason because they come from a time of conflict fought not for the sake of others but for the sake of ones on name on the battlefield. These individuals represent mans will and mans Nature for battle. We as man live for war it’s in our make up our DNA. Male or female we live to prove ourselves out here in this huge galaxy. This vast universe. We seek to be someone in the center of it all. These natives are mans “ego” mans desire to conquer and mans desire to succeed.

🕌🏵Taurus/Venus doms(internalized)/heavily aspected Venus/2nd house stellium: these individuals come from periods that dealt with security and ones pleasures and self worth. eras full of banquets and lavish meals laid out. Times of the senses and aphrodisiacs. Perfumes. Suede dresses. Soft supple skin.Rough worn out hands. Luxuries and money as a means of barter. Revolutions over liquor a time of sex for pleasure and happiness. This reminds me of the peaceful roman era. Around the time of eroticism amongst women and men;women and women; men and men. It was a time to do what felt good on you. What catered to you wants and desires. A time of romance but romance for pleasure never with an intention of something “deep” stringless passion and late nights. Sloth and greed. Gods that controlled nature Athena, Zeus, Aphrodite. Over sexualized gods and loose interpretations of consent out of desire. Things loved slow during this time. Things were stable and predictable. Tantric even. So often those whom are heavily Tauren exude a natural earthiness. A naturally sexually alluring presence both calming and illuminating. Many that I’ve met just have the ability to remind you of the “body” when you’re in their presence. Of course not saying their purely sexual objects;not at all but they exude a very “sensual” nature placing emphasis on ones senses. Similarly to early roman times a time where sensualist ran rampant. These natives are mans need for intimacy and touch. Mans need for stability and pace. These individuals soothe the masses and open the world to the idea of romance. The idea of chivalry. The idea of pleasure. In every way shape or form this is mans desire for “touch”.

📺💡📡Gemini/mercury doms(externalized)/heavily aspected mercury/3rd house stellium: many here come from eras of knowledge. Unlike their opposite these people come from times of “tactics” times of communication. The “buzz buzz” of the world and early exploration. To me this screams the era of voyages. Christopher Columbus. Ponce de Leon. Neil Armstrong. John smith(I hate him), Marco Polo and so on. These men were driven by their curiosity often at the expense of others but none the less their findings expanded the knowledge for the rest of the world. Free flows in communication.information like this is what screams Gemini. The era of the paparazzi the bloggers and the vlogs. The media apps and teaching of knowledges. People who are dominate in this energy exude a curious and dubious nature a insatiable lust for knowledge and learning what they can. They reak of eagerness that’s been exhibited from their past eras. They always seem to be on to the next voyage seemingly getting tired of it once they’ve gotten there flying endlessly on to the next. They crave the uncertainty the promiscuity of man. They see this life and every life as an escapade and one their so gluttonous to witness. They represent mans versatility and mans duality. They are snakes and they are eagles. They travel with their minds to a place many would never venture. The mind of man.

🌑🌌Cancer/moon dominate/4th house stellium/heavily aspected moon: here we have the mothers. The willful and the emotionally driven. This is an era of the single mothers. The women led suffrage movements. These are the battles for equality amongst women. This is the era of the house wife. The foundation. The role player and the children bearer. Mr and Mrs vanilla. This is your early to late 1800s and 1920s and ironically enough this is besides the above mentioned dates this is an era that’s been constantly existent. Women have always been subjugated and treated as less then equal to men. Only recently have they begun to have their voices heard and reached beyond their cries. People dominate in this exude a strong willed nature and a tenacious one at that. They are the caregiver and the mother be it male or female. They are the protectors and the foundation behind the scenes. Many describe cancer doms as emotionally handicapped I beg to differ. Women in these eras exhibited strength beyond anything one could grasp. These natives are heavy tides rustling to and fro. They’re emotional frequencies sent like a radio antenna to mankind. They nurture us from the skies and the land eroding the walls the separate us with a simple glance or a simple loving hand. They know humanity. They’ve grown familiar..They worked the jobs none could do, they slaved and fought seeking no type of validation or crowd they worked endlessly serving as both the emotional bridge and leading force for the world in its weakest moments. So many exude a defensive and survivor attitude even when the situation doesn’t call for it. They are driven by emotions as they’ve always have but make no mistake their emotions aren’t their weakness it’s their greatest source of strength.these natives represent mans need to nurture and be nurtured. Mans nature to emotionally connect and form a family.

☀️👑Ah Leo/sun dominate/5th house stellium/heavy sun aspects: this is the era of Shakespeare. This is the time of flourishing arts and poets. The time of song and Dance. The time of distain towards mediocrity and a time of flamboyance and passion. End all be alls and ultimatums.

This is your Elizabethan era full of wonderful literature..poetic theatre…enigmatic song and dance! The golden age. A time of exploration and the search for ones own place in the grand theatre of life. These people radiate that need that inner fuel-the inner star quality to be something more;something worthy of an audience. This is your period of Classical Greek art! Sculptures in the likeness of man and its immense beauty. Bodies in their natural shadings and tones the vast array of humanity and its many divine origins.A time to worship the features of one another a time to see the beauty in ones self and in others. A meeting of egos and a meeting of suns. The renaissance in its early years speaks to the Leo dominate and sun dominate energy; as times of self realization and artistic expression both physically and on a solar plane. These people carry humanity’s will on their backs the powerful expression of mans unlimited reservoir of talent. The sin of pride is all to real here and these folks carry it in their blood but on a bigger scale these natives represent times of religious expression and the search for what god is to them. The difference here is they seek to be their own definitive destiny their pride is what caused them to fall from grace after all. But in my eyes god wasn’t punishing those with pride by banishing them..he was giving the world the gift of unwavering will/passion and drama disguised as what we look upon tenderly to be our sun. Which is exactly what these individuals are the personification of. ❄️🌳For Virgo/mercury dom(internalized)/Chiron dominate/heavily aspected mercury or Chiron/6th house stellium: these folks come from eras of service and loss. These natives know the depths of what true dedication entails and have a even deeper ingrained sense of loss embedded in their Psyche. “Nothing is free, nothing is stable without sacrifice” this is our 5th-15th century. Our medieval periods a time of service to our kings and undying loyalty to causes not our Own. Faith based on sacrifice. This was the fall of the Roman Empire a time of the focus on ones self to a massive shift into more politically and plot based form of cold decision making; Intermarriages to get ahead. Strategic invasions for territory. Forced marriages and conditional and situational moments of peace and war. Things were palpable and visible. It was a time to think with the mind not with the heart but with ones morals and duties to their nation and their people. The separation between the peasants and the nobles. Those forced to grovel and those who were granted a finer hand. Fast forward slightly in time and even backwards and these are the eras of world wars and our Indian blood trails not only representing the loss of an ideal but the sacrifice necessary for the survival of those we hold dear at the cost of our own physical bodies. These people have an aura of hubris and humility. They don’t believe in superiority nor do they believe in those incapable of getting by in this life. These folks feel heavy and exude a lingering sadness in their actions. Every gesture, every hug, every longing stare and misplaced word, every unspoken truth and promise means so much to them as they represent mans forgiveness and mans sacrifice. They are the maidens(young lady of noble birth) and damoiseau(young and gentle men not yet knights)of the eras and carry humanity and all of its innocence and youth upon their shoulders. Mans unknowing and ignorance. Man physical death and mans physical sacrifice.They are the personification of mans desire to protect one another and for that reason remain above the fray and are elevated in both mental aspects and physical aspects of living. They are calculated and they are realistic for them the world is full of give and take and they don’t have time to live in a fantasy realm. The colder side of mercury is their personification. And Chirons luminous gaze is their bible. 🤝👘Libra/Venus dom(externalized)/heavily aspected Juno/heavily aspected Venus/7th house stellium: ah here we have the Shakespearean era! The early bird romantics and the symbolic undertones of the consequences of our actions. At this time much like for Leo doms and sun doms this is during the Elizabethan era a time of political stability and peace. A time of relative social and cultural ease. Art and theatre were rampant. The audience was connected and erotic. There was a heavy inclination of love being in the air at this time. But these individuals don’t just come from eras of ease and in fact come from times of the greatest choices being made. Times of consequence and times of weighing the scales. These are times of democracy and political groups Our republicans and those who seek their own piece of order and contempt. Times of government and the calls no one could dare to make. A time of intended diplomacy and punishment. Eras of judgement in the sake of peace. This nature has been present in man from the beginning of time and hasn’t been tied to one particular era. Humans have always sought after a sense of fulfillment-we’ve always sought after our form of peace and through our lifetimes these pursuits have had consequences be it death or the fall of an entire empire based on an ideology. These natives carry the scales of justice and punishment on their backs. They understand the black and white of the world-but they prefer a life lived in the grey a life of ease and serenity. A life without choices or repercussion but be it as it may they know better then anyone a world without the difference is a Land draped in chaos and confusion. They radiate an old energy one that connects the world through bonds and interactions of the most intimate in nature. They represent the yin and yang nature colored in the blind spots of human nature. They exude understanding and compassion they are mans need to connect and mans need to relate. 🥀🦅Scorpio/Pluto dom/Lilith dom/Eros dom/hades dom/8th house stellium: these natives come from the beginning. They are the earliest memories in history. The earliest sensations..the earliest instincts..mans earliest fears and mans earliest desires and wants. Mans emotional conflicts and mans decent into madness. Times of betrayal and uncertainty and times of mans shadow brought to the world of the living. Biblical battles between light and shadow. Religious scriptures and religion. Crosses and steaks. The occult and complete surrender. This is the era of hitler and his hatred and wrath taking human form. This is our asylums and electroshock therapy and lobotomy(the killing of our selves and whom we once were)The bubonic plague and the Chinese famine. And our era of Dracula. This is our outcome of the world wars and all the deaths left in its wake. These individuals carry an almost astronomical energy in them. These events were some of the most devastating moments in our history some almost completely extermination humans as we knew it. But we “survived” we “evolved” we “transformed” these individuals carry the apocalypse upon their shoulders and ooze the energy of the realm of death itself. But it never succeeds it never engulfs them;they engulf the darkness that follows them they becomes a beacon of light amongst the darkness. The angels wondering in the dark providing light for the lost. These individuals are intimidating they’re are powerful and they represent mans will to survive and are the manifestation of mans wrath. A sin rivaling even that of pride. 🌸🕊Sagittarius/Jupiter dom/heavy Jupiter aspects/9th house stellium: this is our early 1960s and late 1970s A time of social upheaval and the search for freedom. The rejection of societies establishments. A time of connecting through frequencies and vibrations rather then through societal personas. A time of experimentation and inner spiritual freedom and travel. Gypsies and nomads. Guitars and long hair. Weed and “losing touch” LSD and ken Kesey/merry pranksters. A time to focus on the smaller facets of life and to connect with the world. A time to disconnect from preconceived notions and to feel alive and to enjoy the lost nature. Philosophy and ideals. A time to make love instead of war. Touching bodies and a flash of color. Hues of green and violet. Conspiracy theories and a disdain of control and our government. These natives exude the free and rebellious nature of man. Mans need to decode..mans need to see beneath the curtain and mans need and hunger for knowledge.. deep soul wrenching knowledge.. they carry mans dissociation and mans most elevated higher mind.. the third eye. These folks are hard to hold down and hard to catch always moving forward on to the next movement..on to the next mental escapade and the next spiritual calling. Love is transcendent and something freeing. They represent mans need for freedom. 🌍🍁Capricorn/Saturn dom(externalized)/Saturn heavily aspected/10th house stellium: these folks are the eras of structure and restriction. Times of images and the fall of them. These are our cold wars and our water gate and teapot don scandals. Our shady political deals and scripted governmental scripts. This is our threatened security and our loss of comfort;Such as 9/11(rest in peace angels) which would forever change standings with the u.s and the Middle East along with bringing forth issues between immigrants and race once more.This is our mongol conquest which ravaged Chinese culture introducing an entirely foreign intruder one they had no means or understanding of and lost over 30,000,000 lives in their wake. And lastly a more peaceful form of this being the napoleonic wars ending with the fall of the French and an implementing of the napoleonic code which basically led to a much fairer use of the law amongst other countries and led to Close to 40 years of peace in Europe. Expanding trade and beginning the Industrial Age. Ended European monarchies that existed at the time and was the last known battle between Europe and France leading up to them becoming allies; all of these scenarios showcase themes of the loss of a perceived stability a perceived “foundation” for the sake of creating a new “foundation"These individuals exude structure and wisdom they’re old souls who have lived to see the rise and fall of the human lineage.they don’t cling to the more superficial and trivial aspects of man. They’re souls don’t thrive in a world lacking truth and the un-palpable. They seek a realism and have no time to waste in those unwilling to face it. Their is a stark depth to these natives and a heavy soul built on both honesty and integrity. These folks are the personification of the hardships of man. They are what man seeks to escape from-what man has a hard time facing. They are the reality we must come to stand in before all else.. they are fate and they are time. 🚉🛬🛰Aquarius/Uranus dom/Saturn dom(internalized)/Uranus heavily aspected/11th house stellium: to put it simply these natives are from a future yet to come. They are the revolutions and the rebellions! They are the individualism and the sparks and bolts. They are the abrupt and the unforeseen. They are the divine eye glaring through the thin film. The photographers and the space voyages and the universe in its uncharted glory. The black holes and the space race. These folks are the era of electronics and robotics. Automobiles and advancement. They are the prosthetic limbs and the Teslas. Cloning and the 3D printer. They are hardware and interfacing. The Haitian revolution-the slave revolt ending with nearly 4,000 whites killed as revenge for vile treatment. The Cuban revolution with Fidel Castro agree multiple failed attempts finally using guerrilla war tactics and taking out 550 Batista and ending all elections declaring himself as president for life(could be seen as a good or bad revolution).Chinese revolution which ended up leading to communism and the establishment of the people’s republic. Be it for better or for worse Aquarian energy is fuel for change and to tear down the structures and restrictive bounds that has weighed man..much like Ancient Rome and it’s open sexual nature. Our Ganymede so to speak. Times of sexual freedom and sexual flamboyancy of the most electric and unconventional variety. Our polygamy and asexuality, the variances in our human experience and are unique human interactions.these individuals are aloof and eccentric a lightning bolt feverly slamming into the ground. A bolt of uncertainty and confusion. They are the personification of mans need to disengage. The untethered man and women the souls who became the sky limitless and nothing all in one. 🌬🌪💨Pisces/Neptune dom/Jupiter dom(internalized)/heavily aspected Neptune/12th house stellium: These folks are the end of the human voyage. They come from a time beyond our realm. A land where spirits wander as energy and molecules. They are intangible and free. Seemingly non-existent specters of the world. They much like their counter parts come from moments of our greatest sacrifices. But this is beyond the physical these are sacrifices of the soul. They come from an era of the sacred. The story of Abraham and Isaac a tale of ones willingness to surrender all they’ve been given all the things they hold dear to the divine. The Aztec gods whom sacrifices themselves for the sake of man. Odin the Norse god whom sacrificed his eye for the sake of knowledge. Penelope the Greek god of spring who sacrifices herself for humanity and married hades. These individuals are not only blurry and elusive for the fact that Neptune is their heir..these natives are spiritually away and moldable and all around us. They are not tied to their physical bodies like he rest of us and always remain in a realm unreachable to those of the living. They’re are timeless ghost peering over the events and timelines all at once. They’ve watched man struggle. They’ve watched man succeed.. they’ve watched man rise. They’ve watched man fall. They’ve seen man at its worst. They’ve seen man at its best. The tears..the abandonment..the unity the devotion..the betrayal..the loyalty..the love and hate..humans fragile sensitivity and humans vulnerability to this big world that they don’t understand. These people are the final parents hovering above us all watching us quietly and lovingly; wrapping us so completely in their ethereal love as deep as every sea in this astronomical universe and as intimate as your most broken parts of you crave. These individuals represent mans plight to the unknown. Hope you guys enjoy! Sorry about how this looks I added everything way later so it all grouped together sadly hopefully the emojis help separate them a bit.

#Mine #Aries dominate #Taurus dominate #Gemini dominate #cancer dominate #Leo dominate #Virgo dominate #libra dominate #Scorpio dominate #Sagittarius dominate #Capricorn dominate #Aquarius dominate #Pisces dominate #excuse the jumbled mess :/ Tumblr wouldn't let me place spaces so hopefully the emojis help and what not

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