#it would juts be so. bananas

[xxblairexxss]

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Pairing : dad!Charles Leclerc x mom!reader

Theme : Fluff

Another short one because this has been in my draft for a while.

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charles_leclerc

Liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc and 1,820,638 others

charles_leclerc My world ❤️

username1 cuteeeeeee 🥹😩

username2 that matching ribbons! ugh so adorable

username3 my dreeam! 🥹🥹🥹🥹

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, calra.broker and 633,929 others

ynusername Excited for her popcorn 🍿

username1 THAT LITTLE FEET

username2 omg she’s so cuteeeeee

username3 bowl is too big 😭😂😂

username4 that small hand on the bowl 🥹

"1, 2, 3–"

The sweet, lovable voice filled up your kitchen as your little one counted everything you put on her plate. She had just started learning numbers, so everything that she could count, she wouldn’t miss a chance.

"5!"

"No, honey. It’s 4, then 5. There you go. Can you carry it?" You leaned down to slowly place the plate on her little hands. She was always excited for her snack time because you would put all different things together, so she had more choices for her food. This time, you had prepared frozen banana yoghurt bites, small slices of apples, a few small peanut butter bites, and some goldfish crackers.

"No! I carry."

"Okay, careful!" You were going to help her bring the plate to her small table in the living room, but she wanted to do everything on her own now.

"Need dada’s help?" Charles heard the little steps tapping against the floor first before he saw his little girl with a plate full of her snacks. The plate was bigger than her face, and it was a bit of a struggle to carry it but she kept on denying every offer of help.

"No!" She placed it on her table, looked at her dad with the biggest smile and started clapping her hands. "Yay!"

"Yay! What have you got there?"

"This.." She pointed at the frozen banana yoghurt bites and took one in her hand. "Banana!"

"That one?" Charles pointed at the goldfish cracker.

"That is fish!" She took one and munched on it, her cheeks puffing out from trying to chew them thoroughly.

"Can dada get some?”

"Let me think!" She puckered her lips and scanned through her plate to decide which one she was going to give to Charles. "Dada want this?" She took a few goldfish crackers, leaving her with two left. "There. I need more fish! Dada wait!"

"Oh? You want me to wait here? Okay, baby. Can dada eat this?" He showed her the handful of crackers in his hand that she just gave.

"Yes!" She stood up wobbly and ran to the kitchen again, this time with a half-empty plate. There were only two crackers left and one banana bites. "Mommy, more?"

"Did you actually eat all of them? That was quick." Your brows furrowed as you took the pink-coloured plate from her.

"Dada ate too!" She giggled and extended her arms to get her plate back.

"What?" You peeked at your husband laying on the couch with a fistful of crackers, treating it as some sort of popcorn, while his eyes locked on the television. "Charles! Are you being serious? Stop taking her snacks!"

Your voice made him jumped, but he continued chomping on the crackers again. "Honey, she was the one who gave it to me."

“Well, then stop taking it!" You put a few more crackers into a small bowl this time before giving it to her. "Don’t share with daddy. This will be the last one, okay? No more."

"Thank you, mommy!" The sound of her footsteps clomping again as she ran back to her dad "Uh oh, mommy angry." She pulled a face and pointed her little finger at her dad, making him laugh.

"You cheeky girl! Mommy’s angry at me because of you." He pinched her chubby cheek as she munched on the crackers again. "Is it good?”

"Yes! Dada want?" She took one off her plate and handed it to Charles.

"It’s okay, baby. Dada’s full."

The little one frowned and looked down on her plate with her bottom lips jutting out, feeling rejected. The cracker she had in her small palm kept being twiddled in it.

Charles pressed his lips together to control his expression. His little girl had already learned how to give attitude if none of her requests were being obeyed. He would always get in trouble because you would scold him for being too fulfilling with her requests, but how could he say no to that squishy little face?

"Okay, okay. Give me one." She the handed him the one she had fiddling in her palm and squealed when Charles ate it.

"Dada more?" She offered another one and he shook his head again.

"No, thank you, baby."

"Please dada.." She pulled a pleading look with her big, round eyes, making him lose this round as well. She giggled and put the cracker in his mouth when he leaned closer.

You then walked into the living room with your hands crossed, glaring at your husband, who was still chewing on something. "Can you stop taking your daughter’s snack?"

"I’m not, honey! I swear! Right, baby?"

"Dada wants more!" She squealed, making Charles’s mouth wide open.

"Honey, don’t listen to her!"

"Well, she obviously doesn’t know how to lie! Right, baby? Is dada taking your snack?" Your brows were still furrowed as you looked at your husband, who was speechless in his seat.

"She was the one who offered me the crackers!" Charles argued.

“Dada said more!” She shrieked and handed another one of the fish crackers to Charles, making you chew on your lips.

“You know, if you really want it, I can give the whole packet to you. Stop taking it from her.”

“I’m not, honey!”

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! 😭 Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

[beenbaanbuun]

fever w/ kang yeosang

words - an amount 🙂‍↕️

genre - hurt/comfort, sickfic

warnings - food avoidance because of illness, mentions of vomiting, reader is a little bratty but it’s the fever talking, yeosang is tired :((, not proof read

——————————————————————————

“you need to eat something, baby,” yeosang grumbles, arm folded crossly over his half-exposed pecs. you can’t help but focus on the way he’s standing there in nothing but a tank top and some shorts while you’re sat shivering in one of the many hoodies that you’ve stolen from his closet. you’ve been blaming the fever for how cold you seem to be at the minute, but you’ve always ran a little colder than your boyfriend. whenever he needs a sweater, you need a sweater, a coat and a scarf. you’re just a little nesh, you suppose.

your eyes flicker around the kitchen, studying everything that crosses your vision. perhaps you could have some toast, you think as your eyes land on the half-finished loaf of bread on the counter. then you think about how heavy your stomach feels, even when it’s empty, and you realise that perhaps toast isn’t the best option. you turn your nose up and move on to the bowl of fruit that yeosang had just refilled this morning. the scent of the bananas alone is enough to make you feel sick, and perhaps the citrus fruits aren’t the best choice when you’ve been struggling to keep food down.

“i’m only going to throw it up again,” you argue, trying your hardest to make your expression pathetic and sad. you commit to it, bringing out the sad arched brows and the big wet eyes. your bottom lip juts out just a little and for extra effect, you can’t help but wobble it a little. for a moment of two, you’re almost sure it’ll work. yeosang’s eyes soften and his arms go limp and fall back to his sides. you’re almost positive that he’ll let you off with another day of medicine and water, you can practically feel it on your tongue—

“you don’t know until you try.”

your shoulders sink upon hearing your words and your features drop, expressing only apathy and defeat. sure, the puppy dog eyes have never worked on him before, but there’s a first time for everything. you were certain that this would be that time.

“yeosang!” you whine, trying to grab his attention as he turns to face the countertop. he whines your name back in exactly the same nasally tone you used. “please! my throat already hurts from all the acid; i just want one day where i don’t throw up. it’ll make me feel less miserable.”

he ignores you, lifting his phone from the counter and typing a few words into safari. you wish you could see i what it says, but from your position, huddled up on a dining chair—which you would only move from if a hefty bribe was offered your way—you can’t even dream of looking around his oversized torso.

damn him for getting buff.

“google says banana’s are goo—”

“no,” you cut him off, head shaking wildly like a petulant child.

“baby~”

“they smell bad!”

with a sigh, yeosang goes back to looking.

“dry brown rice?” he offers meekly, already foreseeing the outcome of his offer. he doesn’t even have to turn around to see your face screwed up in displeasure; it’s already so clear in his mind. “nevermind, it was a stupid suggestion.”

you hum in agreement, the small sound making him crack a small smile. despite being incredibly difficult, yeosang can admit that you do have your sweet moments while you’re feverish. your mind may be muddled and your body doing everything in its power to make your life a living hell, but you still somehow manage to put a smile on his face.

if he wasn’t desperate to not catch whatever 18th century plague has taken up residence in your body, he’d spin around and kiss you. squish your cheeks together like he always does when he wants to annoy you a little, bring your face up to his, and just kiss you. it’s almost impossible not to when he’s been missing out on the feeling of your lips on his for the past few days, but when he hears the sound of your stomach churning and a pained groan leave your lips, he remembers exactly why he’s doing this to himself.

“how about broth?” he suggests, putting his mind back on the task at hand, “you like broth, baby.”

he’s right, you do like broth. or at least you like it when you’re not feeling like satan himself has put his little tapdancing shoes on specifically to do a jig atop your stomach. instinctively you wrap an arm around your abdomen which after a short period of docility, has began to cramp again. that broth really doesn’t sound appealing right now…

“yeosang…” you say, dejected and miserable. he sighs, understanding exactly what you mean by saying his name in that tone of voice; it’s a disheartened no from you.

and while it pains him to be forceful with you—or anyone for that matter—he can’t just sit and watch you waste away over a poorly stomach. he has to put his foot down for once.

“baby, you need to eat,” he sighs and rubs a hand over his face. he hates being so bossy with you, almost as much as he hears the weary sound pass from your lips just after his soft command. “just a small bowl, okay? just for me; your yeosang?”

and while it’s an obvious guilt trip, a little bribe to make you feel a little bad about refusing to eat, you can’t help but fall for it. you sigh, wrapping your arms around your knees so you can pick at your fingers guiltily. it’s not like you can help being sick, but maybe you have been a little dramatic about the whole refusing to eat thing. sure, your stomach churns at even the thought of food, but yeosang is right; if you don’t try, you won’t know. the idea of throwing up again frightens you, but broth is a liquid; it’ll be easy to come back up.

you resign with a minuscule hum, so quiet it’s almost silent.

“fine,” yeosang hardly believes the word when you say it with so much resignation, “one small bowl of broth…”

[wormdebut]

Call Me

For @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt Day 29 'Free Space Spicy' When Mickala showed me her STELLAR Sports AU I went a little bananas. BLESS her for letting me tag along and create a slutty little part two for it.

Rated: E || Word Count: 995 || Tags: Phone Sex, football player Steve, Rockstar Eddie, slutty dudes, masturbation MINORS DO NOT LOOK. Anywhozle, @steddieas-shegoes I think you're hot. Everyone enjoy. ---

Steve is antsy. Sure, he had just gotten off in the locker room—in his damn uniform, Robin was going to have a field day with this one—but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough when it came to Eddie.

These next two weeks could not move fast enough. Steve wanted to see his boyfriend. Steve wanted to get absolutely railed by his boyfriend. 

They made it work. Seeing each other as often both of their hectic schedules allowed. They had just seen each other a few days ago, but Eddie was right. Steve was insatiable.

He made his way to his hotel room, throwing himself onto the massive bed. He huffed into the pillows before grabbing his phone.

He had a text.

‘Call me, when you get in, precious.’

Steve quickly hits the FaceTime button, thrown by his boyfriend's (hot) angry expression. 

Steve cocks his head, “Eds, What’s wrong?”

Eddie clicked his tongue behind his teeth, shaking his head. “I didn’t ask you to FaceTime me, did I?”

The confusion on Steve’s face was clear. He did…he said call him when—call him.

Oh.

Steve’s eyes went wide and Eddie smirked through the screen.

“See, there’s my smart boy. I’ll give you one more chance, baby. Call me.”

Steve’s lip barely has time to jut out before Eddie hangs up. 

Asshole.

Steve huffs to himself–calls anyway.

Eddie’s answering greeting is drenched in saccharine sweetness. Steve can practically taste it on his tongue.

“Hi baby boy.” Steve is fucked and they haven’t even done anything yet. “See? Following directions isn’t too hard.”

Steve whines. He’d like to deny it, but–he has needs. “I wanted to see you.” 

Eddies answering laugh is low. Steve would like to deny the answering shiver that runs down his spine, but again…needs. “Well, Princess, we can do that, or you can be a good boy and listen.”

Steve nods before realizing Eddie can’t fucking see him. “Yes—I can listen.” He breathes. Eddie hums over the line.

“There you are, precious. Wanna tell me what’s got you so horned up that you had to jack off in the locker room?” Eddie purrs, voice low–firm. Steve loves when he gets like this.

“Missed you.” He breathes.

 “Baby, you have a whole team that can take care of you. I know Hagan would fuck you in a heartbeat.” Eddie teases and Steve pouts. 

“Eddie.” Steve snaps. “I don’t–they aren’t–”

Eddie clicks his tongue. “They aren’t what, pet?”

“They aren’t you Eds.” Steve didn’t want to push–he’d already pissed Eddie off and he needs–he needs. 

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

Steve felt the blush rush his cheeks. He didn’t mean to say that out loud. “S-sorry, I just–I need you. I need your cock. I need you to fuck me until I can’t see straight, Eddie. Tonight’s game was insane. I miss my boyfriend and I need your cock in me so bad I think I might die.” 

“God, what would your teammates say if they knew you were this fucking needy, baby. Big ol’ tough jock Steve Harrington begging for cock? You just need to be taken care of don’t you baby boy.” Steve whimpers, as Eddie laughs over the line. “Take your pretty cock out for me.” Eddie commands. Steve listens, like the good boy that he is. Still in his stupid fucking uniform. He’ll wash the set twice, it’s fine, alright?

He’s hard, the tip of his dick red and leaking. Steve runs his finger along the vein on the underside just like Eddie would. “Ed–” Steve moans, “Please I–”

Eddie tsks again. “Did I say you could fucking touch? I don’t think so, I said: Take. It. Out.”

Steve is quick to let himself go, can’t help the whine that escapes his throat, breathy and needy. He pants into the speaker and Eddie growls on the other end.

“God. I love the pretty noises you make. You needy needy boy. What do you need?” Eddie huffs. Steve thinks he can hear a zipper being pulled down. Hypocrite.

“Need to come. Need you to make me come. Please.” Steve’s panting, his gaze frozen on his leaking cock, his free hand is curled up in a ball on his side. Waiting for permission. Waiting for Eddie to tell him what to do. 

Eddie doesn’t say anything. Steve is stuck, just listening to the sounds of a slick fist and Eddie’s heavy breaths. When Eddie talks, it’s breathy–strung out. “God, you looked so hot on the field princess. I can’t wait to see you, to kiss those pretty fucking lips, dig my fingers into your perfect tight little ass and make you beg for it.”

Steve is simply a whimpering mess at this point, his cock jerks in vain, he won’t touch. Eddie told him not to.

“C’mon pretty baby. Beg for it.” Eddie commands and Steve–well–

“Please, Eds, let me touch. Please let me come with you. Come for you. I need it.”

“There’s my perfect boy. Touch your pretty little cock for me, baby girl.”

Steve takes himself in hand, keening as he does. Listens to his perfect fucking boyfriend jerking himself off and god–he’s close already.

“Eds–Eddie. Please, please. Let me come, baby. Please.” Steve breathes.

“Come for me, pretty boy.”

Steve wails as he comes, white streaking his jersey. He pants through his release and can’t help the smile that breaks out across his face as Eddie comes on the other end of the line. He listens to Eddie’s deep breathing, praises offered up easily in between breaths. 

It’s only when Steve starts laughing, an uncontrollable thing, that Eddie cuts himself off.

“What baby?” He asks. “What’s so funny?”

Steve hiccups trying to slow his breathing. “Do you think they would just send me a new uniform if I asked?”

Eddie joins him in his laughter and Steve is perfect. Happy in this headspace, with his hot ass rockstar boyfriend. Two weeks would go by in a flash.

—-

[aisclosed]

Match Found ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ - 13. just Jungwon

Synopsis: Jungwon is sick of his friends' constant teasing over his lack of gaming skills. Determined to secretly improve and prove enha wrong, Jungwon sets out to learn to play, except he has no clue where to begin. Luckily for him, y/n is a girl with too much time on her hands, a desperate need for distraction and is more than happy to indulge him. Only, things are never that simple and Jungwon soon finds it difficult to explain exactly what the pair have become. college Student! Jungwon x gamer! Reader

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(3.1k) written work + SMAU :: warnings: cursing

Jungwon stares blankly at his phone screen. Hundreds of scenarios running through his mind, each one crazier than the last. Why did you suddenly want to call him? Before he can delude himself further his screen lights up with your incoming call. He only gives himself a split second to smile subconsciously at your contact picture before accepting and placing the phone against his ear.  

“Hello? Y/N?”

“Yang Jungwon, I fucking hate you, you know that?” 

Jungwon sits up slightly at the sheer frustration that drips from your tone, his brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Me? What did I do? Are you okay?” 

“No. I am not okay you idiot. I miss you and your stupid face and your annoying voice. And you sending me selfies looking cute is not helping. I am trying my very best to be a responsible friend and not take up your time, why are you tempting me you dimpled freak.” 

Jungwon can’t help but burst into laughter, it was entirely absurd, the way you sounded absolutely vexed at the prospect of not being able to see him. Any hint of fatigue from studying had been replaced entirely by an ear splitting grin, his cheeks aching and warm from your admissions. His heart swelled knowing that your time apart had affected you just as much as it had been affecting him. 

“This is not funny! Stop laughing at me you dickhead. I’m gonna hang up just go back to your work,” you whine into the phone and Jungwon can almost picture your scowling face, complete with jutted lips and knit brows. 

“No, don’t hang up. I miss you too Y/N, I wanna hear your voice,” Jungwon pleads between wheezes. 

“No. You heard my voice already and you laughed at it. You lose all Y/N privileges. Get back to studying, you gotta focus,” you gripe crossly. 

“Come on, just a couple more minutes and then I’ll let you go, hm?” Jungwon asks, smiling fondly to himself when you respond with an exaggerated sigh. 

“Alright fine, I guess I can spare you a couple more minutes since you miss me so much. How are you doing, Wonnie? You tired?”

“I'm doing alright, lowkey exhausted. I would be better if I saw you more,” Jungwon admits softly, “All I see are the guys and my textbooks. So I'm kinda going crazy, hence my messages about me dying.” Jungwon huffs, leaning back in his chair to rub at his temples, the dull ache slowly returning again at the thought of his upcoming kinesiology exam. 

“Hmm.. yeah that sounds rough. Have you eaten? Maybe you need some food in your system?”

“Yeah I ate a banana earlier. Everyone in the house has been too busy to cook or go grocery shopping so we’re living off of ramen for the week. It's not too bad though, we switch up the brand so we don't get sick of it.”

Jungwon pauses at the lack of response on your end, hearing only the rustle of you moving around the room. “Y/N? You good?” 

“Yeah, I’m here Jungwon, my bad. Just grabbing a jacket and my shoes. I'm gonna head out for a bit.”

“Oh. Okay, well if you’re busy, we can hang up.” Jungwon offers half heartedly, fiddling with the edge of his papers. 

“Uh. Yeah I'm really sorry Won, I promise I was listening. It's just gonna be a bit loud where I'm going so I don't want to disturb you. I'll make it up to you okay? I missed you a lot and it was nice talking to you, really.” 

“Yeah, you're fine Y/Nnie thanks for calling, I needed it. Be safe when you're out okay? Text me if anything happens.” 

“Mhmmm I will, good luck with studying! You got this! I'll see you soon. Byeee!!” 

Jungwon draws his phone away from his ear slowly, blinking at how abruptly you had left the call. Exhaling slowly, he turns back to his desk, engrossing himself back into his studies.

It isn't until he hears the tell-tale slam of the front door that Jungwon jolts out of his trance. He slid his gaze over to his phone to see that over an hour had passed since you hung up, his screen empty of notifications. Extending his arms above his head, Jungwon stretches slowly, his muscles groaning and popping in protest. 

He’s mid stretch when he hears faint conversation in the kitchen downstairs. Jungwon cocks his head in confusion, zeroing in on the noises outside, he could almost swear that he heard a girl’s voice. Shrugging off his curiosity, Jungwon turns back to his notes, looking over the hastily scribbled diagrams and notation. 

“Jungwonie~” Sunghoon raps on his door, cracking it open to stick his head inside. His eyes bounce around the room until they land on Jungwon, crinkling in a playful smile. “I have a surprise for you~. A very very special visitor-”

Jungwon doesn't even have time to question Sunghoon before he’s pushed aside, causing the door to swing open with him. 

“Oh my god Sunghoon, move. It's just me. Why are you acting like you're fucking Oprah,” you grumble, making your way into Jungwon’s room. 

 Jungwon lights up at the sight of you, arms flying open automatically in invitation, “Y/N! What are you doing here?”. 

“Hey bestie~, a little birdie told me someone missed me,” you chuckle, accepting his hug. Jungwon uses the opportunity to pull you onto his lap, nuzzling his face into your neck happily. 

“You guys are gross. I’m the one who actually stopped her from leaving without seeing you and you can't even give me the time of day,” Sunghoon sulks, leaving with a theatrical glare, slamming the door behind him.

Jungwon tilts his head at Sunghoon’s words, looking up at you inquisitively for an explanation. 

You roll your eyes, running your fingers through his hair gently, lightly scratching at his scalp. Jungwon preens like a feline at your touch, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “I was just stopping by to drop off some proper food for you and the boys because you said all of you hadn’t eaten well. I ran into Sunghoon on your doorstep on his way out somewhere and he let me in. I wanted to just leave the food and go so I wouldn't distract you but Hoon said you’d want me to say Hi at least.”

“I can’t believe you were gonna just leave without even seeing me,” Jungwon frowns up at you accusingly, his grip on you tightening slightly. 

Your jaw ticks slightly as you struggle to justify your actions. As much as you had wanted to see Jungwon, you thought it would only make things harder. You were right. It felt wrong to act like everything was okay when it felt like your whole world was teetering on your shoulders. 

Your hands stutter slightly in their ministrations against his scalp, sliding down to rest at the nape of his neck. With his arms securely wrapped around you and the warmth of his gaze, it was so easy to be lulled into this sense of false security. 

You wanted nothing more than to spill out all of your frustrations and worries. To just cry and let Jungwon wipe your tears, and tell you everything would be okay.

No. Your whole life you’ve disillusioned yourself enough with false promises and hopes, you couldn’t guarantee anything right now. Until you spoke with your father, you had no clue of the seriousness of the whole dating situation. There was a chance that it merely a suggestion, with nothing binding you to going through with it.

You wouldn't burden Jungwon with your superficial issues, not when his eyes already drooped with fatigue, ringed with dark circles as evidence of his late nights. So you swallow back the confessions that threaten to escape from your lips, giving Jungwon an easy smirk and flicking his forehead gently. 

“Well you got to see me, so no point in sulking. I just didn’t want to take up your time, you look enough like a zombie already.” you tease softly, tracing small stars on his neck. 

“Ugh, trust me I feel worse than a zombie,” Jungwon scoffs, burying his face back into the crook of your neck, “If I have to look at another joint ligament or femur I think I’ll actually drop out and become a tik tok dancer or some shit.” 

“Aww poor baby.” You coo at Jungwon teasingly, snickering when he pinches your side in retaliation, mumbling insults against your skin. “Seriously though Jungwon, make sure to get proper rest and eat well okay? I brought some curry for you and some random dishes for the other boys. Don’t stress yourself out, you know the material, you’re gonna do amazing I know you are.”

Jungwon’s response is muffled but you can still pick apart his whispers of thanks and assent to your requests. You look down at his tucked figure fondly, resting your head against his own. 

The comfortable silence settles between the two of you, and you let yourself melt against Jungwon, exhaling deeply. Your relief is short lived as your mind soon begins to travel again towards your future with the company and Jaemin. Suddenly Jungwon’s hold feels suffocating, a slight sense of panic settling in your bones as think about the fast approaching changes to your life.

Feeling you tense up, Jungwon lifts his head, scanning your face with searching eyes. “Y/N? What's wrong?” 

Shaking your head dismissively, you smile in what you prayed was a convincing manner. “Just some company shit with my Dad that's stressing me out. I’ll tell you more once I actually know the proper details.” 

Jungwon scrutinizes you, before nodding slowly, “Okay, if you’re sure.”

You clear your throat awkwardly, shaking his arms off of you and sliding off of his lap, “I’m certain. Anyways, I should probably get going, you have to study. Enjoy the food okay?”

“What? No.” Jungwon says incredulously, your arm firmly locked in his grasp, “Stay.”

You huff exasperatedly, “Stay and do what Jungwon, you’re gonna be studying. Plus I’m tired, so I'm gonna head home and take a nap.” 

“You can nap here! Come on, I won’t get distracted by you I swear. I just want you here with me,” Jungwon pouts up at you, slumping in disappointment when you wiggle your arm free of his hold. 

"I fucking hate this cute ass man. He is the literal bane of my existence," you sigh inwardly, giving in as always. You were starting to think Jungwon had cast a spell on you, rendering you unable to refuse him. 

“Alright, fine you win. You can put the fucking pout away, I’ll stay.” You shove his head lightly, walking over to flop onto his bed, wriggling until you’re snug under his duvet. Jungwon’s comforting scent envelops you and you can’t help but inhale it slowly, already feeling the drowsiness tug at your eyelids. 

You peek at Jungwon to find him already staring back at you, a soft smile on his face as he watches you get comfortable in his bed. “What?” you ask defensively, flustering under his affectionate gaze.  “Do your work or I’m gonna leave” you threaten and Jungwon raises his hands in surrender, turning back to his work with a barely stifled smile on his face. 

It’s not long before you’re fast asleep, snoring softly into Jungwon’s pillows. Much like Jungwon, you have had numerous sleepless nights since the performance, albeit for entirely different reasons. 

It’s an hour later when Jake quietly comes into Jungwon’s room, eyes widening at the sight of you knocked out in his bed. 

“Yo, I was just coming in to say thank you to Y/N for the food. My bad, I didn’t know she was sleeping, is she good?” Jake whispers. 

Jungwon considers your slumbering form, chewing on his bottom lip in contemplation, “Yeah, I’m not sure. I can tell something’s bothering her but she’s not too keen on sharing and I didn’t want to push her. I managed to get her to stay for a bit so hopefully she gets some rest and feels up to talking about it.”

Jake looks at Jungwon’s worried demeanor, the way his eyes are trained on you and can’t help the smile that stretches across his face. “You really like her huh?” 

Startled Jungwon faces Jake with wide eyes, “Y-yeah? I mean she’s a really good friend and we just get each other you know? She's really important to me I guess,” he stammers. 

Jake snorts, shaking his head, “Yeah right, dude you know what I meant. Come on, you two are literally obsessed with each other. When are you gonna make your move bro? You never know who might try and steal her away before you even get your chance.”

“I don’t know hyung.” Jungwon pauses, his jaw clenching slightly at the thought of you with someone other than him. “I do like her a lot, maybe even more than that at this point. But I don’t want to risk anything right now you know? She’s a CEO’s daughter and I’m literally a college student worrying about midterms. I just feel like we’re at such different levels, I want to be able to take care of her,” he frowns. 

“Right now, all she’s been doing is helping me out basically, more than you guys even know. And then she did the whole makeup crew thing and now the food. I’m so so grateful for Y/N and everything she does for me. But every time, it just serves as a reminder that when it comes down to it, I’m not sure I can do the same for her. What can I possibly give her that she doesn’t have? If anything I’m dead weight, and I so badly want to be selfish and just ignore it and make her mine-” Jungwon halts as you shift slightly, he had become so absorbed in venting his feelings that he hadn’t realized his gradually increasing volume. 

Jake and Jungwon hold their breath, eyes bouncing back and forth between each other and your stirring figure before you settle down again, letting out a puff of sleep. 

Relieved, the pair exhale gratefully and Jungwon starts again, his tone lowered to a  discouraged mumble. “Anyways, I’m working on getting the confidence to actually do something. But it’s hard hyung, I’d rather be her friend forever than risk it and not have her at all. She could probably have her pick of the most successful men in Seoul, why would she pick me? I’m just Jungwon.”

“Dude, I get it. I really do. Y/N’s great and that can be daunting, but Won, there’s a reason she’s here in your bed. It’s not like she ever really tries to hide the fact that she’s whipped for you bro. If anything she’s probably holding back because you won’t let her breathe in our direction and then you go on twitter and best-friend zone her because you’re too scared to confess that you like her.” 

Jake smiles encouragingly, “She’s right in front of you Jungwon, don’t let her slip away,” with a final pat on Jungwon’s shoulder, he turns to leave. As Jake shuts the door, he spies Jungwon staring at you quietly, gently brushing away the stray hairs from your face. “Idiots in love I swear,” he laughs to himself. 

Jungwon barely registers the click of the door closing, his focus entirely on the way you lean into his fingers, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He slips his phone out of his pocket, snapping a quick picture of you swaddled in his comforters and pillows. 

As his gaze drags over your features, the slight part of your lips as you let out puffs of air, Jungwon’s mind wanders to Jake’s words. If it meant that Jungwon got to see this sight more often, maybe it was worth the risk. 

Jungwon eyes his notes and the clock, weighing the options internally. He sighs as he reaches his decision, not that he had much of a choice anyways when you and his bed looked so enticing. Truthfully, he had already resigned himself to this fate as soon as he had felt the soft flesh of your cheek against his fingers. And so, Jungwon pulls his hoodie over his head, draping it on the back of his chair. Gingerly, he slides into bed next to you, trying not to rouse you from your sleep. 

The dip in the mattress just barely tugs you from your slumber and you look up blearily at Jungwon. “Wonnie?” you slur, voice raspy from lack of use , eyes fighting to stay open.

Jungwon smiles down at you fondly, his hands slipping just under the hem of your shirt to rub soothingly against the small of your back. “Go back to sleep baby I’m right here,” he whispers softly, guiding your head back down to rest against his chest.

You're unable to muster anything but a pleased grunt in response, happily curling up against Jungwon, your legs tangling with his. In the comfort of the warmth radiating from Jungwon and the addled state of your sleep-ridden mind, your guard slips and a mumbled confession escapes your lips “Don’t wanna lose this Jungwon.”

Your words are so quiet and jumbled that Jungwon's not entirely sure he even heard them properly. He's given no chance to process them or question you before you’re sound asleep again, drooling slightly on his shirt. He mulls over your words silently, wondering if it had anything to do with what was bothering you that you refused to tell him about. 

“Why is there so much to think about,” Jungwon groans internally, “Fuck it, I give up on trying to make sense of all of this. I’m just gonna focus on passing first. I’m gonna ace my midterms and then I’m gonna figure out how to ask Y/N out without making a fool of myself.” 

With a new, steely determination set in his mind, Jungwon tugs you even closer, finally allowing himself to fully relax into your touch. He brushes a soft kiss against your forehead, making a mental note to tease you for drooling on him later. 

Jungwon’s not sure of the outcome of the changes that loom over the two of you. If he makes his move and it all goes downhill he may never have the chance to hold you like this again. But for now you're here, and having you firmly within his grasp is comforting enough to allow Jungwon’s eyes to flutter close and his mind to finally succumb to sleep. 

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a/n: rip fluff :( my poor stupid oblivious idiots. who's gonna tell jungwon he probably has less than 4 days :////

tell me ur thoughts <3 hope u enjoyed hehe

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[poppyseed1031]

Melting - Chapter 2

Neteyam X F reader, both aged up to 24-25

Warnings: Emotionally repressed reader, angst, fluff, eventual smut, budding romance

Neteyam followed you deep into the forest, deeper than most people in the clan go, for what seemed like hours. His eyes glued on your slender form as you gracefully traversed the lush foliage, fauna and trees of the forest, your tail swaying behind you. The walk was silent, neither of have spoken so far, but he was getting restless not knowing where you were leading him. Though he internally knew he would follow you to the end of Pandora if he could just get to know you, even a little bit. 

“Where are we going?” He asked finally as he stepped over an overgrown root jutting from out of the ground. You turned your head over your shoulder to look at him and he swore for a moment you had a smirk tugging your lips, “We are almost there, be patient, mighty warrior.” You jabbed lightly. When you turned your eyes away again he let his face fall into a grimace, he hated that so called title, more so from you for whatever reason. He was more than that, he would show you. 

A few more moments of walking in silence, and then you stop,right in front of what just looks like a wall of thick thorny vines, all wrapped around each other in a tangled spikey mess. Neteyam looks at you in confusion before quickly reaching for you in alarm when your dainty little fingers go to wrap around some of the vines. “Y/N what are you doin-” he cut his protest off when you pulled back what had been a nature made curtain, leading into a small open hot spring surrounded by plush grass and glowing flowers. He looked back to your face in awe, ready to ask how in the hell you found this place, when his breath caught in his throat violently. You were smiling, beaming actually, a big grin spread over your beautiful delicate face, the first smile of yours he thinks he’s ever seen, and he was completely dumbfounded, all he can do is stare at you in awe, his heart thumping wildly at the sight of you. “I found this a long while ago after a big hunt, I was just trying to relax and find some banana fruit trees when I saw it from the canopy of the tree above us.” You were still smiling as you spoke, but he was effectively knocked out of his trance by your voice. “Wow..” He mumbled as he ducked under the vine curtain still propped up by you and walked in. Steam was curling into the air from the water of the spring pool, winding up in swirling curls beckoning to the warmth that the water provided. “Do you want to get in?” He asked tentatively, turning to face you. Much to his dismay your bright smile was gone, and you sent him an unimpressed look. “Obviously, that’s why I come here, you are welcome to join me or sit on the bank… or leave.” You added on the last part a little quieter than the rest, avoiding eye contact. “I’ll stay in and soak with you.” He said quickly, taking quick strides to the water and clambering in, his nerves making his movements sloppier than normal as he settled down into the water.

You were watching him with your usual steely gaze, eyes darting all around his face, seemingly searching him for a moment. Neteyam swallowed thickly, why did you make him so nervous? He held his resolve and watched you right back, and after a moment you drifted closer to the water movements graceful unlike him as you waded in, settling down on the natural bench-like rocks lining the spring pool on the direct opposite side of him. He watched you for a few moments as you closed your eyes and leaned back to rest, and seemingly deflated right before his eyes. You were small, something he doesn’t notice often he realizes, because of your mighty attitude and personality. But here you were, protected by the shroud of darkness and the forest, seemingly succumbing to the weight that held you taught through the days and times you spent around others. He watched in silence as you trailed over the surface of the water with gentle fingertips, causing it to ripple over to him. “You wished to get to know each other. So speak.” You spoke after awhile, though despite the way they came off, your voice was soft, which he’s never heard  before.. Which he can’t help but adore. “Okay, um… what should we talk about?” He asked, sitting straighter and leaning towards you a bit. “ I suppose that’s up to you. We can stick to formalities which I’m sure is what you would prefer anyway.” You shrugged nonchalantly and Neteyam furrowed his brows. “Why would I prefer formalities?” You looked into his eyes again at his question, and he swears to Eywa he saw a flash of sadness coat your own before you blinked it away and spoke again, “ I understand what our peers in the clan think of me, what they say of me. And what some elders do as well, so why would you want to get to know me further and stain your reputation?” He bristled slightly at the way you averted your gaze and took to twiddling with your fingers underneath the water. His heart ached that you felt like a nasty mark dirting people up. “Hey, fuck that. That’s not what you are and I know that, I just want to see it for myself,” He said with a gentle tone and a tilt of his head. 

You were looking at him again, Honey eyes wide in disbelief and an almost…pained expression on your pretty face. Almost so suddenly he didn’t catch your wounded surprise your expression shifted, brow bones drawing together, nose scrunching up and bright white fangs being bared in a hiss as your lips curled up and ears pinned flat to your damp hair. “Do not be cruel! You do not have the right to play with me.” Your voice was low and venomous, but shaky as you shot up out of the water and tried to walk past him and crawl out. Panic coursed through his veins and he quickly reached out and wrapped his hand around your wrist, tugging you to a halt. “I’m not! I swear I’m not!” He rushed, standing up as well and forcing you to turn around with the soft guidance of his hands on your shoulders, “I want to know you. I want to see you.” He breathed, fighting a sudden but very overwhelming urge to kiss you as he took in the proximity of your bodies and  looked down at your doe- like eyes as you stared up at him with a slightly dropped lower lip.

Tags: @jakesullyfatjuicypeen

[229zmi]

CRASH AND BURN

PAIRING: Oikawa Tōru/Reader

CONTENT: reader is emotionally constipated, crying, comfort, i use the derailment of a train as a metaphor

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

(Picture this: an empty train in rectilinear motion, careening through rolling hills and lush greenery that appear to stretch on and on for miles. The exterior is scuffed, worn after decades of use, though the interior isn’t any better with its chipped paint, cobwebbed corners, and torn seats. Back outside, billowing wisps of smoke twist their way into the troposphere, slowly dissolving into the inky swirls of the sky.)

Oikawa can’t remember the last time he’s seen you cry. You aren’t one to wear your heart on your sleeve, and based on what he’s gathered throughout all his years of friendship with you, it would take a lot for you to cry.

Because you didn’t cry that time you painfully crashed your new bike into the neighbour’s garden and thus spent the rest of your summer break helping them replant everything as an apology. Neither did you cry the time you landed on your knee after toppling out of that old treehouse in your backyard nor when you knocked out a tooth during a game of tag. All Oikawa remembers is you sprawling out on the ground like a starfish and wailing until somebody helped you, but you didn’t cry. There were no tears.

You didn’t cry either at any of the sappy rom-coms movies you and him watched together, even though Oikawa figured you weren’t a very empathetic person anyway after he told you he found a roach in his shampoo bottle and you merely laughed in his face. You didn’t cry after a tumultuous breakup with your boyfriend of a whopping two months, not even after you got fired from your shitty job or during your high school and college graduation ceremonies, and you most certainly did not cry over the tragic end of another relationship years later — of a whopping two and a half months this time.

(Listen: the wheels clash against the rails with a continuous rumble. The wind whistles deafeningly, drowning all other noises of nature as the train picks up the pace.)

So you weren’t a sentimental person either, he eventually concluded, but for the longest time, he thought there was something wrong with you, or maybe you had a lacrimation allergy that he wasn’t aware of.

But no, that’s just how you are. The first image he sees when he thinks of you is exactly this: you with a loose grin, a thumb jutted at yourself, and your chest puffed out for the effect of confidence. Whether it’s mock or real, he can’t tell.

You’re an amalgamation of no use in crying over spilled milk, c'est la vie, and so on; you’re nearly the textbook definition of the jester archetype. Happy-go-lucky and lax, you laugh at the bad and then carry on as if the aforementioned bad never existed.

…At least on the surface, where it matters.

You’re like an onion in that sense, he supposes. Peel back all the layers, and suddenly the reality becomes clearer. You are nothing but a hollow, emotionally-constipated shell of everything you were taught, not through mundane lectures at school or how-to tutorials on YouTube but rather through reprimands that built up over time. Of crying equating to a display of vulnerability that would, in turn, only precipitate uncomfortable stares and artificial pity from others, and of repressing your shitty feelings so you wouldn’t have to deal with them.

(Listen, again: a sharp, grating noise rattles the vacant vehicle wholly. Too loud, too haphazard-sounding. There might be something wrong, but if a tree falls in a forest, and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?)

The then Oikawa might have shared a similar sentiment at some point, a very low point back in high school, but the now Oikawa knows all too well that this facade you keep up is a lot like a banana with too much ethylene gas; it’ll only continue to get worse over time until it ultimately decays.

In your case, you’re bound to self-destruct sooner or later. He’s sure of it.

But — you turned out fine, didn’t you? After all, you had escaped most of your childhood injuries with temporary bruises and scars that faded later on anyway and a fucked up knee that only mildly inconvenienced you at times. You’re not sure what was the problem.

And anyway, he’s getting off-topic. The point of this is as follows: it would take a lot for you to cry, he’s never seen you do it anyway — that’s just how things have always been.

(The harsh noise repeats itself, and the wheels start to come off the train. Another screech — shit goes off the rails.)

It’s a Monday evening. A torrential downpour had hit the city approximately half an hour ago and still persists; the local weather forecast says it won’t be at least another fifteen minutes or so before the rain starts to clear up. Thunder echoes overhead nonstop with the occasional jagged flashes of lightning ripping through the sky.

On a Monday evening, you show up at the door to his apartment unannounced. No text, no call. Just you. Oikawa surveys you all in one glance, eyes quickly flitting from your drenched figure to your slumped posture as if there’s an invisible weight physically holding your shoulders down. There’s a downcast expression overtaking your face, your lips are twisted into a scowl, and a translucent sheen glazes your puffy eyes.

Almost like you’ve been crying.

“[Y/N]…” he breathes out, instantly alert as all the alarm bells in his mind ring. His jaw might as well have dropped to the floor and scuttled away with how visibly shocked he is. Opening the door wider, he grabs you by the shirt sleeve and pulls, no, yanks you inside. Various questions threaten to spill off his tongue, the most prominent being something along the lines of What are you doing here?, but one more once-over of your haggard appearance and he decides that perhaps the prying inquiries can wait. Regardless of the situation, you’re way more important anyway.

After closing the door and with an arm slung over your shoulders, he guides you over to the living room. Or, at least. Tries to. The thing is, you sort of give up halfway there against your own will, falling into safety net of his arms right before you crumple to the ground, and perhaps this situation could be considered romantic if it’s not for the fact that you’re now crying. Like really crying, snot-faced and uncontrollable hee-hawing type of crying.

For a moment, Oikawa isn’t exactly sure what to do besides hold your trembling body closer to him and gently rub circles into your back, hoping that will somehow help soothe whatever it is that you’re feeling right now.

“I’m—“ You inhale intensely as if it’ll help you gain your composure just enough to finish your sentence, but then you break into another sob, moving your hands up to aggressively swipe at your cheeks. Oikawa catches your wrists with one hand, not wanting you to accidentally hurt yourself in the process with how rough you’re being, and wipes away your tears for you with the other.

“It’s alright, let it all out.”

“Tōru— I’m so sorry,” you finally manage to blubber out, your voice all gurgly and muddled with hiccups in between. You sniffle and then curl your hands into the fabric of his sweater, suddenly despising the shameful feeling that now shrouds you. Regret bubbles inside of you like a loud burp waiting to be released as you stare at the large wet stain on his sweater. “I’m sorry— for messing up your sweater and— showing up without letting you know I was gonna visit. I just— shit, I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. You don’t have to be sorry at all,” he assures. His thumb swipes over the back of your hand tenderly. “Are you okay, though?”

You nod, not trusting your voice to speak again without breaking.

“Do you want to talk about it? Need anything? Water?”

This time, you shake your head, and the conversation falls to a standstill. Outside, the sky emits yet another low rumble and a flash of light that briefly illuminates the two of you before darkness engulfs you again. Rain continues to lash violently against the window — a stark contrast to Tōru’s comforting embrace.

You speak up once your hiccups fully die down and you’ve had enough of listening to the sounds of the thunderstorm, “Still, I’m sorry for… y’know. Getting all dramatic on you.” You chuckle with a smile that falls short of your eyes. “I don’t even know why I was crying.”

Your words hang in the air for a moment before Oikawa processes them. His voice abruptly cuts through the silence, coming out harsher than intended.

“I don’t know whatever it is that’s bothering you, but you were not being dramatic, and I don’t want you to think that,” he snaps. You blink at him, momentarily stunned as if what he just said was outlandish in any way, though you quickly recover, painting on what appears to be a bashful expression.

“Aw, you don’t have to lie for my sake,” you tell him. There’s a hint of humor in your tone, yet the tension in his shoulders doesn’t ease. Matter of fact, it grows; you’re making him nervous. “I was literally full-on sobbing. Boogers and everything. You don’t think that’s at least a tiny bit dramatic?”

“That’s just you letting out your emotions after keeping them bottled up for so long.” You open your mouth to speak, but he’s not done. “[Y/N], that’s — that’s normal, and there’s no shame in doing so by crying.”

A loud roar of thunder shakes the walls of Oikawa’s apartment. You don’t respond in the couple of seconds it takes for the sound to dissipate, instead deciding to stare distantly at the ground for a moment as you gather your thoughts.

“Huh,” is all you say at first before your voice grows somber and tense, even more than it was minutes prior when you had just finished crying your heart out. Oikawa listens attentively. “You don’t think I’m weak or think any less of me for it?”

“Of course not! Look.” He stands up and gestures for you to follow him. The two of you stop once you reach the window, and he pulls away the curtains.

First, you see your reflection in the glass — a bleary image of your tear-stained face and Oikawa standing beside you, who offers a smile as your eyes meet, setting your cheeks aflame. You quickly divert your gaze out of embarrassment, and you next see the city — a labyrinth of towering skyscrapers and wide, open streets bustling with people and vehicles despite the deluge.

“It’s like this. You see that it’s raining outside, right? Lots of people say that means the sky is crying, the city is crying, whatever. Does the city look weak to you?” he asks.

“No.” You squint your eyes down at all the buildings, the cars, the people, as if it’ll magically improve your vision. You could say that it looks vibrant because of all the lights, that it looks busy because of those who still have places to be. But instead, you say, “It looks alive.”

“Does the sky look weak to you either?”

“No.” You look out at the torrent and the storm clouds and the lightning all at once and think the words to yourself this time: it looks beautiful.

“Then why view crying as a sign of weakness? It’s only a natural response to whatever you’re feeling,” he says. “And if anyone tries to convince you otherwise or says they think less of you for it, I’ll just— I don’t know. I’ll beat them up or something.”

He curls his hand into a fist, holds it up with the base knuckles facing you, and shakes it a bit as if the action is supposed to be menacing. Really, all that does is further dwindle his credibility, especially since you’re confident this man cannot fight for shit, but whatever — it’s the thought that counts anyway.

The ends of your mouth curl up, and a particularly strident laugh escapes you much to your surprise, cutting through the tension with ease. Your shoulders scrunch up and tremble and your eyes fill with tears of mirth as you try to contain your giggles, though it’s too late because Oikawa’s already thinking: he has never seen anything more beautiful.

Your own hand comes up to wipe away your newfound joyful tears once you find the moment no longer amusing. You exhale, like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Do you feel better now?”

There’s a beat of peace and quiet — a shift in the air. Neither of you can hear the thunder anymore. Eventually:

“I do,” you conclude. “I do feel better.”

Outside, the rain relents at last.

[iwanttofuckereh69]

now reading: 2ha vol 3

i finished it yesterday yay!

1. SHI MEI HAS WATER ELEMENT. I KNEW IT. I love it how it is kinda easy to miss, because Mo Ran doesn't mention it right away. It is said only several chapters later and probably if i werent making these posts and i wouldn't pay attention, it could easily fly over my head. But like... I still don't think that person at the end of vol 2 was Shi Mei. Would he really get reborn just to get that dick xD Given that the person really was reborn. Idk idk.

2. if you thought Shi Mei was my most problematic fave, im here to tell you i also adore Rong Jiu :))) I was interested in the bitch since the beginning but i didnt know he would show up again! And i was really sad when it turned out he died. And then i was even more sad because his story is ehhh AND THEN i checked out him in the manhua and he is so Jut Lung (banana fish) coded. No wonder i love him. But also he is so awful and annoying oh god. I still hope he will show up again to stir up some drama

3. and tbh shi mei annoyed me a bit. Bestie, fishing for Mo Ran's attention while CWN quite literally died and MR is obviously not well? And then he was weird in that scene with the soul catching lanterns, he never really said he is ready to go after CWN like the others and i was convinced he's gonna drop that lantern after all. Now tell me, am i just noticing it now and he was always weird or does it only start to show up in the later chapters?

3. CHU WANNING MADE WONTONS

its pretty surprising given his absolute failure at cooking the cabbage tofu something because the result would make Xie Lian proud. Like i said in the other post tho: "now i want to know if shi mei was deliberately doing all the other things to make mo ran fall for him or was he just there chilling and the guy just fell for him out of nowhere and misinterpreted everything like he does".

ALSO OH SHIT now it makes sense Shi Mei didn't make him wontons after CWN died. When I read that i was like huh, why not wontons, that would surely cheer him up more, but i totally ignored that thinking nothing of it. And literally only writing this post i realized. Makes me wonder how many other details i missed that paint the bigger picture. Ahhh i just love when books do that.

4. speaking of not thinking: i didn't realize before that Mo Ran's mom was courtesan. I don't know why, i really don't.

5. overall there is more questions than there is answers. At least its now clear what happened in Mo Ran's previous lifetime and why CWN couldn't save Shi Mei. But why the events are so different now? AND WILL IT REALLY TAKE CWN 5 YEARS TO COME BACK

[pruning-the-minds-garden]

For the ask game:

1, 5, 15 the first (actually 14, misnumbered), 20, 35, 44, 50, 57, 68, 83 - obviously only as far as you're comfortable. Feel free to skip any you might not want to do!

Bonus: not 27+28 - what are two things that annoy you about the gender binary XD

1. What have you eaten today?

Well it's 7 AM right now and I've not quite gotten around to eating anything just yet, but I should get on that...

5. What is your favorite scent?

I don't have a very strong sense of smell (only one nostril works at all, and that one has never worked very well - long story), so I'm not very scent-oriented outside of when I'm in the kitchen. But, I am told that scents like oak, moss, amber, some jasmines, darker florals, stuff like that are really nice. Since I am a sucker for operant conditioning as much as the next human so people responding well to them on me makes me respond well to them on me.

I don't go for the out and out "masculine" scents, though - your "leather" and "motor oil" and "cordite" and stuff like that, things deliberately designed and marketed to sound "tough and manly." Ick. No. I have no desire to smell like that.

[14.] Which do you prefer: a museum, a night club, the forest or a library?

Well, a night club is definitely at the bottom of the list. It's loud and crowded and that's definitely not my scene. The number of clubs and club-like scenes I've been to in my entire life can be counted on one hand.

Aside from that, those all sound lovely. Take your pick, really. I spent a substantial chunk of my childhood just walking through a national forest and boating around a huge lake that my grandmother had a house on the shore of, and she took me to museums and libraries because that's the kind of person she was and I am. Whenever I go to a new city I visit those places. Heck, I go re-visit old museums periodically and regularly support local libraries, also.

20. Are you holding on to something you need to let go of? If so then what?

Many, many things. I've an appointment with a therapist this evening to talk about some of them.

35. What jewelry are you wearing right now, and where did you get it?

I don't often wear jewelry. I find the sensory experience very unpleasant. Even wearing a wedding ring I find to be rather jarring. Obviously I do it because it's a symbol of fidelity and loyalty and respect (though at the end of the day it's just a piece of metal and those things remain true whether it's there or not), but it's still a bit... unpleasant. I don't have bracelet or watches or pendants/necklaces or earrings or anything like that, for that reason. Though, I have bought many fine pieces of jewelry with cool stories. My favorite is the first ring I bought for my now-wife, then-girlfriend. Hit me up in DM and I'll tell it to you. ;-)

44. What do people call you?

Mark is my name, though also MG or Minds. :-)

50. Favorite fruits?

I like Bananas, Rainier Cherries, Honeycrisp Apples, and Strawberries

57. What would your dream house be like?

Oh gosh that's a long description. My literal dream house, as in one that has consistently appeared in my dreams, is a cottage that is built some distance away from a lake that is itself inside a valley surrounded on all sides by misty mountain peaks. There is a small stream - and by small I mean, like, I can cross it with two or three steps - going to the lake and there is also a dock jutting out into the lake. The house is made of light grey mossy stone, with a bay window on the side facing the lake, and on the inside there are a lot of books and a fireplace. The temperature is not quite warm but also not uncomfortably chill, and the mist in the air is thick enough that the sun isn't quite clear in the sky, ever. Going inside the house it is a fairly simple affair, with my needs tended to but not a whole lot more.

Not exactly practical and it leave a whole lot out that I'd want in the real world - internet access, a car, my spouse, etc - but it's a good start.

68. Describe your hair.

It's past my shoulders, wavy, and dirty blonde. I haven't cut it in about four years. I put it into a pony tail sometimes when I am going to work (I work in a science lab) or my wife braids it for me. Because I never learned how to braid it as a kid I don't have the muscle memory to do it for myself, and I have trouble doing it in a reasonable amount of time in the mornings. Also...

83. Do you like when people play with your hair?

Lord yes I love it. That is one of the best parts about having long hair. Please for the love of all that is holy play with my hair I'll melt.

27.5 What are two things that irritate you about the [gender binary]?

I'll give one general thing, and one thing that's specific to my own experience of it.

The general thing: the sexualization of very young children, even infants. "Oh look, Timmy has a girlfriend!" "Oh look, he's gonna be such a heartbreaker!" -- ma'am, that's a barely sentient potato you're talking to and it wants a nipple for a completely different reason than you're implying. Used to be, we put white dresses on infants - all infants - until they got to a certain age, simply for ease, and I think that's really not so bad an idea. This whole aggressive gendering of everything is kind of insane. People think it's cute, but I really do not find it to be cute at all, and I think we should just let kids be kids and not try to fit them into the cognitive boxes we carve out for adults from the time they are 6 months old just for our own amusement.

The specific me thing: I'm not able to cry. I'm AMAB, and was raised with the idea that to cry is to show weakness, that "real men" don't do that, etc etc... and now I find, as I near 40, that even as I accept and proclaim that I'm not a real man thankyouverymuch, that when times get tough and I struggle with emotional periods in my life when I know it would be better to allow myself to feel the sadness I'm feeling... I just can't. I'm like a bathtub without a drain. I can feel the emotions building up, and then something in me just goes "no," and pushes that down. It is frustrating as hell.

From the Ask Away Tumblr Ask Game!

[boxenstopp]

past eps under #czech it out recaps i'm too lazy to link shit

EPISODE FUCKING 3. ONLY 3.

starting off with a strong carzzy telling humanoid that he doesn't know shit and humanoid just goes ok sorry 🙄 and i didn't deem this important enough because what comes next really matters more.

anyway the fucking coffee is back at it again, this time it's humanoid's. first of all, humanoid acting like a literal fucking baby. the mad lions crew are so nice and like "here marek have your coffee!!" and humanoid being the bitch she is trying to get them to just tip it into her mouth? leaving this pic here because his lips are jutted out and he's looking at the coffee and he's bent forward and really it's a great screencap. and carzzy's there too ig. just watching. i'm getting really way too many ideas from this.

ANYWAY CUT. marek probably moans here or some shit because really what else would he do.

now i'm honestly getting fatigued by how fucking annoying these guys are. i dont want this to be basically describing their arguments because their arguments don't mean shit. i will just start counting who wins. winner in this argument about whose fault carzzy going in on draven and dying is: humanoid as he has proof it was carzzy. carzzy has a really cute "oh shit 😳" though.

also carzzy always has the most over-the-top reaction to humanoid agreeing with his insults ever. it's like he can't believe it but it happens EVERY TIME like you just gotta start knowing that humanoid is that kind of a shit and it's not that funny. you are embarrassing yourselves.

time to insult shadow time!! okay so humanoid opening the floor to carzzy because when carzzy sent shadow out of the room i bet he could tell carzzy wanted to go OFF and it's very nice of him to do that for his bf 😊 his face is like 😊i did this for you😊now do your thing 😊

anyway carzzy makes an actually kinda clever joke about rq-ing which is rare for him. he is still too proud of it btw. ALSO for carzzy characterization, you need to understand that he is a clown. he does not exist outside of the need to make people laugh at/with him. his relationship with humanoid would fail were humanoid not also down bad and extremely entertained by him. this is promptly followed by! carzzy not knowing what he's saying but just dragging it out because he thinks there's maybe some humor in it (this is a thing i do. it's not funny)

COFFEE TIME 2 HOORAY!!! OH I LOVE THE COFFEE SO MUCH i have too many indecent thoughts. carzzy steals humanoid's coffee because he is that type. like in general i think they together are also the type to share shit constantly but also complain about it constantly. like it's just a form of getting back at each other. like oh no you wore my hoodie yesterday now i'm wearing your hoodie! hah! take that! and humanoid goes 🥰🥰awww that's sweet baby. you need to wash it after though because you smell like shit 🥰

okay but then carzzy actually doesn't like the coffee which i can't even tell if he's being genuine but it's literally all to piss of humanoid anyway so who cares right.

and honestly i'm tired (i checked and i've written 2.4k words in the past 3 days which is a lot to me TT and genuinely i no longer think words when i see carzzynoid i just go poof) but all that happens next is carzzy makes a bad innuendo about soraka "bananas" and insult humanoid more. humanoid is on about his czech player thing with denyk and carzzy says česke (i think, again i don't speak czech and don't know much about it) it out which is very cute and warms my heart cause. linguistics. they spend too much time laughing at each other's very bad insults and jokes and are generally actually kinda tolerable. emphasis on kinda because on a good day i would be cussing them out and on a worse day (like today) i would find them ok. video end now, and there's no ending scene like last time (pr probably learned because we did not need tooth-rotting kisses and "i love you"s)

VIDEO END

final thoughts: today i was not in the mood but i am keeping this shit up and i was really excited for this because the coffee!! overall i feel like they kept the disaster nonsense down (btw when i make these i take literal hours cause i switch tabs between carzzy+humanoid's twitter, nemesis' vods, the wikipedia article on czech phonology (i am that guy), and the actual video lmao. i also watch on 0.75x speed to understand wtf they're saying and to get better screencaps.) they mostly just argued and i'm glad because while i did not really go indepth on how they argue it is EXTREMELY interesting to me.

[angelictyphoon]

Vash is the very picture of rapt attention– and he is, even if he offers poor Meryl the grace of not having his immediate eye contact as Milly happily boasts away her friend’s relentless investigator’s acumen. She deserves every ounce of praise, of course, with a blind eye turned to the entire notion that Meryl wouldn’t be out traipsing in the desert if not for him in the first place. 

Minor details.

“Busy!” Vash’s dark brows go on a journey of their own as Milly and Meryl trade back and forth about the town’s planned infrastructure and all their grand plans for it, to grow their new home and sustain it well into the future. He’d heard such rumors of deep groundwater, largely inaccessible from the surface when Zazie held dominion over swaths of caverns and tunnels that ran uncharted far into the planet’s crust. Even he knew better than to wander into places he wouldn’t be welcome, but if humanity were to find their place in this ecosystem going forward without fully relying on Plants, then…Well, Zazie was going to have to learn how to share.

“Hm…” He casts a glance about with an awareness of how fragile peace can be. His presence alone has shattered it more than once before, and the risk that he might bring chaos upon them now after everything to answer for crimes which the Federals and the Terrans have every right to charge him of weighs in the droop of his smile. 

Now isn’t the right time. 

Maybe in the future, when time has softened the severity of those accusations, when his mere existence doesn’t threaten everything Milly’s family has worked so hard to build here. Vash strokes Meryl’s hand gently with this thumb, then shakes his head.

“Staying out of trouble sure is the plan! Might go on a walk instead? Stretch my legs.” His belts jangle together as he juts out a leg and jiggles his foot. Vash pauses, squinting over promises of avoiding trouble and opting to make no comment. Despite the shootout, he’s spent more than enough time recuperating indoors or cooped up in a metal box bouncing off the dunes as they roll up and down the hills. “Or poke around those tunnels?”

Surely, no one here would mind if he went down and gave Zazie a little talking to before any major construction work went on down there.

Though Meryl has left an open schedule, he worries. Vash bends down in front of her, his lips pursed with a scrutinizing squint. Abruptly, he declares, “First, a break! Maybeee…banana sundaes?”

Without his steady hand against the small of her back, Meryl would have surely been eating dirt, face flat on the ground as Milly barreled forth and enveloped Vash in a tight embrace. There is still the matter of his bounty on his head and she does not want to think what the consequences would be if he was found out. 

Having passed that check point before entering the expanded city of Octovern, Meryl does not want Terrans and Federals coming at them, hot on their heels—not when she had spent months looking for him, holding onto a hope that seemed too fragile, too breakable, to let it all go to waste now. 

Milly seems to get the memo and offers a sheepish, apologetic expression and relaxes her stance now that both Vash and Meryl have got their feet on the ground.

She is positively beaming with the progress mentioned and nods her head, smiling that million double dollar smile.

“Meryl and I wasted no time in getting things in order. There were many people who no longer had a place to call home and the folks already living in Octovern were gracious enough to make room. Before we knew it, all hands were on deck expanding the city limits so that we could bring in more people.”

From her periphery, Meryl can spot movement beyond Milly’s shoulder and knows there is at least a Thompson or two lurking just before the doorway, curious as to who the newcomer is.

“Did she now?” Meryl can feel her cheeks heating up as the attention is centred on her and there is an urge to hide behind Vash’s back, but knows that Milly won’t allow that to happen.

“Meryl was very worried about you, Mr. Vash,” and this causes Meryl to do a sudden double take, like she can’t quite believe what she’s hearing and almost gestures for Milly to stop talking, but there is no stopping her.

“She was rather insistent she be out there, looking for you. Her detective skills are very impressive and I knew that she was the right person for the job!”

“Milly, please…,” Meryl’s half-hearted begging is brushed off as Milly recounts the day Meryl made the decision to go back out there and look for Vash, making a promise of returning if she found him or found solid evidence of his whereabouts.

There is a sigh of relief as the topic changes to the town, something she is keen to focus on as it means she is in the clear. At least for now.

“Seems like it will be,” Meryl chimes in, picturing the map clearly in her mind as she had memorized the topography. “Just the surface level for now, but we’re working on seeing if we can explore underground if it isn’t too hollow—”

“—especially if we’re looking to add canals and aqueducts. A few residents from Octovern mentioned there being a well, or some kind of large body of water underground.”

Meryl’s gaze drifts between Milly and Vash and she cannot help her own smile tugging at her lips seeing the crows feet at the corner of his eyes, the sort of lines that come with a lifetime, many lifetimes, of laughter, joy, sadness, grief. Milly sees it, almost immediately, and it is noticeable in the way her voice almost falters in its excitement, but the cheerfulness is still there, perhaps a little forceful.

“Speaking of which, I gotta help out with the upcoming shift with this well. You’re both welcome to stay here for as long as you like. My family would love to have you.” And, without missing a beat, Milly hops to, joining the few others who have begun making their way outside the city limits and into Octovern.

“Ready to meet the rest of the Thompsons?” Meryl turns to Vash, looking at the door before them. The two she had spotted earlier have gone, leaving the space empty but the sound of people living, of talking, can be felt and heard from where they stand.

“—We don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s been rather a day, and I’m sure Milly and her family would understand.”

They are not quite alone, not like they had been in the truck she had that she drove to bring them to this place, but Meryl sidles closer to Vash, her hand reaching out to gently grasp his, entwining her fingers with his.

“We can do whatever you want. No expectations, no obligations here—other than keeping your head down and staying out of trouble.”

[amazythelsblogs]

South America?

I’ve been wanting to run away and be a wild human. Seeing myself in this state has been the worst experience ever. It’s worse than any first world problem you could think of. From being a radient golden goddess, to being a street rt with cellulite soulders. *insert cry emoji* I’ve been wanting to go back to the water. I feel very stuck here. I’m jut so sad that I sold myself away for acouple free pizzas and banana chips. It’s such a waste of life. Now I have to work twice as hard t olook like I did, just because i couldn’t focus and found it too difficult to pack up my bags and leave a situation i didn’t even want to be in. That was my first step away from civilisaion, though, so I am gland. the next step is to sell everything and get a one way ticket to south america. Preferrably a jungly paradise island with no snakes, what has white sand beaches, crystal clear water, and beautiful sunsets. Where the sun and water will work together to burn away this british fat I have accquired. Perhaps if I had decided to go to a, no no no. No more would have’s should haves. Either you do something, and you go for it, or you don’t and you do something else. 

South America? HELL YEAH.

And so it is sorted. Let’s wipe the slate clean and get outa here. 

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

Okay so “Game mechanics” part 1. Cevio is good at Convincing People, specifically getting them in a scenario where the spores can spread. V4 and Talk would mimic eachother, but only Talk spreads spores. V4 makes it very clear she's after the victim so they run away and right into Talk. V3 is the *Original* original, so she emits a fuck ton of spores and is the hardest to take down (her disadvantage would be she has flowers growing on her so is Visibly dangerous) -🌟

(hope you don't mind me just putting them all like this and answering in one go for clarity/organization oop-)

I LOVE THESE IDEAS SO MUCH i can visualize these peeps almost like boss battle encounters in my head godd...

ik they'd all prob kill me but i want to pet all of them on the head they sound like such great peeps, idk what u mean by murder smh... i want to hold them gently like hamburger (HSKJDHGKJ)

b/c im feral im esp imagining like, the boys respectively being a group encounter or smthn, with each one being a separate phase or something 👁️👁️

assuming since we talked abt len being The Final Girl, that would make him the main playable character lmao??? he's gonna need a lot more than just bananas to restore that hp he is gonna get 👏 FUCKED 👏UP 👏. save banana boi

[random-imagines-blog]

Jack in the Box {Gang!Andy Biersack x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2690 Summary: Andy’s gang activities come to bite you in the ass. Notes: Violence, swearing.

“Andy,” You pleaded, taking hold of your boyfriend’s hand. But he took his out of your grasp. Those long fingers with the rings - they were never easy to hold onto. More often than not, every time that you really wanted them, wanting to take that hand and make it caress your face, he took it away from you. You felt cold - and that must have showed on your face because he bent in low and took his chin between those ever so wanted digits. “You don’t have to go tonight. Jinxx can take care of things. He’s always talking about how he wants more responsibility, so just give it to him. Please, baby. I have a really bad feeling about tonight.”

“You have a bad feeling every night,” Andy said, though his voice was wavering. “I have to go. The bar isn’t going to tend itself. Plus you know how Jinxx gets. He’ll see a pretty girl and start giving out the shots like they’re water. I always lose a profit when he’s the one behind the wood.” “Why can’t you just ask CC to keep an eye on him?” You asked, giving him your best rendition of puppy-dog eyes. No, you went beyond that. You went straight into Puss’n’Boots territory. As big as possible. Holding his hand up against your face. Lower lip jutting out.

“Ahh, don’t be giving me that look,” He said, moving his hand away. It was shaking a little. Whether it was with nerves or with anger, you couldn’t quite tell. If it was anger, he didn’t let it show - he never took that out on you, ever. “You know I’ve got to go. If I don’t, the boys are gonna lose faith in me-”

“You know they would never,” You said, pulling yourself up onto your knees. You had his coat wrapped around your shoulders - and only his coat. The rest of you was naked, trying to find warmth in the leather that he would be taking off of you in a moment. “They love you. They’ll never think any less of you if you just - stay in with me - for one night.”

“I can’t,” Andy said, though he did look like he was going to give in for a second there. “Please - stop making me feel worse about it. I’m already dreading tonight. So come on, give me my jacket and - and maybe I’ll stop by that all night bakery you like. Get you some muffins for breakfast.”

So now he was trying to bargain. That was the sure-fire way to know that he was serious and that you weren’t going to get your way tonight. You huffed, and slid out of the jacket, holding it out to him, as far away from you as you could possibly get it. “Fine. But I want the banana muffins. And they better be fresh, Andy. Just - promise me that you’ll be careful tonight? I really can’t shake this feeling.” Andy took the jacket from you. Slipped it on, like it was a second skin. He took the opportunity to smell at the collar, which now had the scent of your bodywash on it. He pulled out the sleeves to make sure that they were long enough and smoothed the leather over the front of his body.

“I promise,” He said, taking a couple of steps backward, keeping his eyes on you. A smile overtook his features, but he looked tired already. Late nights working at the bar that he owned. You had been there once or twice, but he always said that you shouldn’t. Rough crowds. Somehow they had become a sort of biker bar, and he couldn’t exactly turn away business. You had seen the clientele and - well, you could agree. It wasn’t the sort of place where you would willingly go. But you loved Andy and had tried to make it work until a fight had broken out near you and he advised you to just go - that he’d see you at home. “Your turn. You gonna promise to stay in tonight?”

Since you were left cold from the jacket, you wrapped the blanket around your shoulders. You took your time in answering because you knew as soon as you did, he would be out the door. You enjoyed the warmth of snuggling something, even if it wasn’t your boyfriend. “Yeah. Not like I’ve got anything else better to do,” You mumbled. “Just me, Netflix and Doordash, what a great Friday night.”

“I’ll make it up to you. Promise. Love you,” Andy said, leaning in and gave you a kiss on the cheek. One last check of his jacket, of his pockets and he was out the door.

You tried.

You really did.

But there was this feeling, this nagging deep inside of you that just would not go away. The feeling that something was wrong. You tried to distract yourself from it. You put on an action movie, something to keep your entertainment, but then switched to a comedy when all of the guns made your stomach feel topsy turvy. But nothing could make you laugh right now. Sorry Kevin Hart and The Rock, it’s just not working out.

You hadn’t exactly said the words ‘I promise’ to Andy regarding tonight. That felt like a good enough loophole. Besides, maybe he would appreciate seeing you show up at his work. Maybe he could get Jinxx to take over behind the bar and you two could go over to a secluded booth and just - be for a little while. Yeah. That’s what would happen. That’s what was in the forefront of your mind as you took off your comfortable lounge clothes and put on something a little more appropriate for the bar - all black, to fit in with Andy’s aesthetic. Called up an Uber, fluffed out your hair, applied some lipstick to make you feel a little more confident and rode down to the seedy side of town.

You got out of the Uber. The driver took off quickly. You walked up over the curb towards the doors of the bar and -

and they were chained shut.

That couldn’t be right, could it? You took a couple of steps back to look up at the sign that was overhead of the door. ‘Scarlet Cross’ it said, in dark red letters against black. You remembered watching him put up that sign. His tight jeans had nearly fallen off as he stretched across the ladder to try to get it absolutely straight.

You moved in closer towards the door again, held your hand over the glass so that you could look through it without the street lights interfering. Completely dark inside, as pitch. No lights from the kitchen or the back or anything. The chains felt new. There was a sign next to the door that you didn’t immediately see but it just said ‘Re-opening Monday.’ Andy had not mentioned this to you at all. Not one hint.

Your mind was trying to come up with a good reason for this. But there wasn’t one. If he didn’t know, then he probably would have been home by now. You took your phone out of your pocket, thinking that it would be best to call him - for what? Yes, he was a rather secretive guy, usually ignoring some of your questions but - you didn’t think that he would cheat on you, did you? You skipped past his name. Going down to CC. His friends would cover for him, surely. But they liked you. Or at least they seemed to. You felt dizzy, and more than a little confused. And definitely at a total loss.

You walked back over to the curb, closing the messenger app. No, you were just going to wait until Andy got home. You would be able to think of something to say by then, surely. You started to order another Uber to take you home. But it said that it wouldn’t be there for another twenty minutes. Damn this part of the city. You’d be lucky if it showed up at all. You paced the sidewalk for a little while - until your eyes were set upon the bar across the street. You never noticed it before. It must have been a new one? It looked like it was closed - but - there was movement behind there. Noises were coming from it. The sound of breaking glass.

Then the front windows erupted in an explosion. Fire burst out, flames licking at the sign above that read ‘Big Red’s’, really turning into red hot. You could feel the warmth from where you were standing. It licked at your face like a dog off of a leash. You took a step back, gasping. It didn’t look like it was an accident but -

The sound of laughter. It was so familiar. If you were at a party of a thousand people, you would be able to pick out that laugh immediately because you caused it a lot of the time. Andy’s. You caught sight of his thin and lanky frame coming out from behind the burning bar. Jinxx’s hollering too. You knew that well from the times that he was over and you’d make dinner as the two of them played video games after a long night at work.

Andy had a baseball bat over the back of his shoulders, leaning against his neck, his arms hanging around it like he was in a guillotine. Jinxx was next to him, opening and closing a zippo and laughing. But the laughter cut-off right in the middle when they both saw you, standing across the street, looking at the burning bar in horror. “Fuck,” Andy said, at the exact same time that Jinxx said, “Shit.”

“Are you - fucking serious right now?” You asked, your voice barely carrying but you were afraid to yell. You started to walk over. Your foot left the curb. It touched down on the street when a car started to barrel close.

“HEY, IT’S THOSE BLACK VEIL GUYS-” A voice came from the open window as it slowed down close by.

“And they’re burning down our bar!”

“Better hope we kill ya before Big Red does-” And then sounds - horribly loud sound that echoed off of the buildings near by. The sound of gunfire. Andy went diving in front of the car, rolling towards you. He wasn’t even thinking of himself at that point. He just had to get you out of the way. Idiot that he was, he wasn’t thinking that he was bringing more attention to you. You might have been able to make it out unscathed. Though it wasn’t likely. You were a witness to it. You had heard the voices, and you had seen the car. But still. Maybe they wouldn’t have been able to see you if Andy hadn’t have done what he just did. He pulled you close into one of the alleyways as the car sped off. You were in shock. Complete and utter shock.

“You alright Jinxx?” Andy called out, poking his head out of the alleyway.

“Yeah, they shoot like stormtroopers, shit!” Jinxx yelled back. “You okay Andy? Y/N?”

Andy turned back to you, his eyes wide with fear. He started to check you all over. You could feel his hands on some parts of your body. On your shoulder. On your arm. But when he touched down your side, all that you felt was cold. A painful, teeth-chattering cold. “Andy?” You asked with concern. Not just for him, but for you as well. “Why can’t I - I can’t feel -”

“Guys?” Feet bounded against the pavement as Jinxx started to come in closer. You could barely make out his figure in the opening of the alleyway. “Oh - oh shit dude. Andy, that’s a lot of-”

“I know,” Andy growled. He took off his jacket, the one that he had been wearing before. He took it off and he wrapped it around you just as you lost your balance and fell down towards the ground. He caught you.

“A lot of what?” You asked, starting to shiver. Andy laid you down on the ground, really tying a knot on his jacket around you. “A-Andy?”

“Blood, y/n, blood,” He said. “Call a fuckin’ ambulance, Jinxx!”

“But the cops will-”

“Fuck the fucking cops,” Andy roared in a way that you have never heard him do before. “I’m not letting y/n bleed out in a fucking alleyway. Just do it.”

“Did I get shot?” You asked. Your thoughts were coming to you slowly. Everything felt like - like a slug. Just going along so slowly. “Did I - seriously - just - get shot?” You tried to look, tried to crane your neck but Andy wouldn’t let you. He just ran his hand across your forehead lightly, soothing you back down. “What happened, Andy - why did you burn the bar, why - what?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re not bleeding out in my arms, baby,” Andy said. His voice sounded as shaky as you felt. “JINXX, YOU BETTER BE ON THE PHONE-”

“They’re sending someone over as fast as they can!” Jinxx called out.

“It’s because I’m bleeding out in your arms that you should tell me, Andy,” You said, mustering enough strength at least to scowl at him. “I took a bullet for you. I deserve answers.”

“Oh, so it’s like that now?”

“You’re damn right, Biersack,” You said, blinking slowly. “So come on. What’s going on? Tell me before the ambulance comes - I’ll hold on.”

“Promise?” He asked, his head hanging. You nodded the affirmative, and then rested against him once more. “You hear of the Black Veils? Well - fuck, y/n, I never wanted you to know. I never wanted to drag you into all this shit.”

You looked up at his face. God, he was so pretty. But now you were wondering if that was just a mask. What was your boyfriend really capable of? The fact that he had been lying for so long was already a huge red flag, a giant concern. But as you felt more and more cold, you reached for more of his warmth. “You’re still just Andy to me.”

He laughed a little, tears filling his concerned eyes. All of the late nights made sense now. All of the stepping out. All of the bruises that he would come back with and claim it was just a rowdy night at the bar. The way that he was close with the rest of the guys, really close. Always looking over his shoulder when he took you out. Always in the nicer part of town, barely ever letting you step foot in the seedier area where he tended to spend most of his time. “That’s all I want to be,” He told you, taking hold of your hand. Your Andy.”

“Promise me two things?” You said, gripping him tighter.

“Yeah, anything.”

The sound of sirens. They were coming over to you faster than you could talk. You tried to increase your speed. “First, don’t ever lie to me again, Andy. Ever. Do you understand me? Never.” He nodded at this, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “And two, get the hell outta here. Right now. I got shot, there’s going to be questions, ones that you can’t answer. So seriously - go.”

“I’ll come see you in the hospital,” He promised, and pressed his lips against yours in a quick but tender kiss. You waved him off, feeling too cold to do too much else. You refused to close your eyes as you watched Jinxx grab a hold of him and pull him away from the scene - wanting to watch. Barely even seconds after you watched his lanky figure disappear, the bright lights of red and blue sirens started to appear. You cried out for help to try to get them to notice you and within minutes, you were on a stretcher, in the back of the ambulance, drifting off to sleep as the painkillers took effect.

He better bring you some damn flowers and chocolates and a big stuffed animal after this.

[leo-interactive-fiction]

How would the ROs respond if they saw their past self as a kid in person? Would they give a life lesson? Or warn them of something bound to happen? Even flat out lie about who they are to their past self even if their past self thinks they know that it's them? Would the ROs even get along with their past self or come to love/hate them?

E kneels down to child E, giving a warm smile as they lay a supportive hand on their shoulder, "Don't worry, just keep trying. They'll understand your feelings eventually."

Child E's eyes widen in recognition of the words.

You give a curious look, "What're you two talking about."

They both spin around quickly, simultaneously responding

"N-Nothing!" "N-Nothing!"

----------------------------

R looks down at the brightly smiling kid in front of them, though they're unable to match it. They continue on their way, walking past the child and causing them to turn around curiously.

"Hey! I feel like I know you. Are you one of dad's friends?"

Hearing the question gives R pause, but they don't look back. "Sorry, you must be mistaken. I've never seen you before in my life."

You catch up and fall in step with them, "You didn't want to meet them?"

R sighs, "I'd rather they enjoyed the freedom they have left."

-------------------------

L leans down, inspecting the book clutched tightly in the child's hands. "Is that 'The Forgotten Dove' you're reading?"

Child L's eyes light up in fascination, "You know it?"

"It's one of my favorite stories."

"Mine too!" the child says enthusiastically before catching themselves, reigning themselves in, "My apologies."

"It's alright to feel passionate."

"Father says it's improper behavior..."

L smiles sadly in understanding, "To some, that same behavior is the most cherished. It's important to find those that will accept in you what others may deem flaws."

"Like the dove?" the child draws the parallels quickly, causing L to smile.

"Exactly."

-------------------------

V stares at the child with a hard gaze, their hands balling into fists at the sight of their cheerful smile.

"Why are you happy? You're weak."

Child V tilts their head, "My friends--"

"You can't save them," V interrupts, "You can't save anyone. Not even yourself. Why are you..." V's fists shake with a barely concealable rage, their teeth clenching, "Why are you so worthless?!"

Child V steps back cautiously, fear painting their face, "What are you talking about?"

Before V can respond, you step closer. Their hands relax when they see you, though they're unable to meet your gaze, "Nothing. It was just a bad dream. Carry on."

--------------------

Child P gives P a hard glare, "What do you want? I'm busy."

"No you're not, you little shit."

"The hell did you just say to me?!" the kid clenches their fists, prepared to fight."

P's eyes narrow, "What do you think that'll do?"

"Who cares! You're just pissing me off."

"You were pissed off long before we talked."

"Shut up! You don't know a damn thing about me!" the kid seethes, rushing at P.

P doesn't hold back, kicking them harshly to the ground before tossing their jacket away. There's a severity in their tone as they stare down at the wincing child, "Get up. If you can't even hit me, you won't have any chance against him. Show me how far you're willing to go."

-----------------------

M crouches down, showing the child to you with a small chuckle, "Wasn't I...just...the cutest kid...?"

Child M looks at their adult version, their eyes widening in recognition, "Are you me?!"

"That's...right..."

"Why do I talk like that?"

"You get...tired..."

"Hmm," Child M thinks for a moment before their eyes sparkle, "Do I get a cute boy/girlfriend in the future?"

M shows you off like a valuable art showcase, though the kid scrunches their nose, "Ew."

M chuckles, "You just...don't know...what you...like yet..."

--------------------

Raven smiles lightly at the disheveled child, delicately picking a rotten banana peel from their hair, "Someone threw their trash in your dumpster again, didn't they?"

"Do I look okay?" the kid says quietly, running their fingers through their oily hair and frantically picking bits of discarded trash from their clothes, their gaze occasionally flicking past Raven.

"You look great!" Raven says genuinely.

Child Raven nods happily before quickly moving past them. The stench of refuse grows stronger as they move closer, their eyes widening at the sight of you and a heavy blush pressed to their cheeks. They wave sheepishly.

"H-Hello...! I-I-I-I...." the kid seems to lose their thoughts as they continue to look at you until blurting out, "Do you want children?!"

You try your best not to look at the kid, "I wasn't really looking to adopt..."

"We can make them ourselves," they say breathlessly before releasing a giggle, clearly embarrassed by their own words. They tug at the front of your shirt, directing you to the sight of an infatuated smile, "You'll wait for me, right?"

------------------------

Child S runs up to S's motorcycle, their excitement high, "This looks just like-!"

"Sandrider."

Child S's head snaps to S, who leans against the bike with a wide grin, "Her name's Sandrider."

"That's a great name," the rugged kid says, reaching towards the bike, "Can I..."

Without waiting for them to finish, S picks the kid up and places him on the back. Their eyes light up as soon as the ignition engages and the vehicle roars to life.

"She's amazing! Hey, hey, are ya gonna be in the Desert Race this year? Ya can definitely win!"

S smiles solemnly, "Nah, not this year, but..." They turn around with the brightest grin you've seen them wear, jutting a thumb confidently to themselves, "We definitely will!"

------------------

As F moves closer, the child presents a flower crown to them, a light smile on their face, "I made extras, and I think it will compliment your hair beautifully!"

Wordlessly, F kneels and allows the child to place the crown on their head while continuing to talk.

"You're from Frenza, right? Are you part of one of the aristocratic houses?"

"Yes, you could say that," F responds gently, "Thank you for your gracious gift, Your Highness."

The child shifts uncomfortably, their mood deflating, "Right..."

"It must be hard to understand which words are genuine when they are said to you, knowing the position you're in," F mentions sadly, causing the child's interest to pique.

"Is it hard for you too?"

"It never grows easier," F says, taking the flower crown from their head and placing it on the child's, "But while there are those who expect perfection from us, there are also those who expect nothing that we may confide in, as well as one you deem worth caring for."

You lean towards the two, "Are you talking about me?"

"Of course not," F says haughtily.

Child F gives you a knowing smile, "Of course not."

--------------------------

Thank ya for the ask!

[imagines4thepeeps]

Sneaking around (Wanda Maximoff x Barnes!reader)

For: @fanficwritersworld

Request:

Hi! Hope your are well! Could you do a Wanda x Barnes! Reader where Reader is Bucky`s daughter and he knows his daughter is gay and with Wanda but she thinks she's being discreet until Bucky juts says 'That's it! Stop flirting and just go leave the room I know u 2 together' or something like that?

A/n: I’m doing my best lol. Written on mobile.

———————————————————————

You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes ,slowly shuffling into the kitchen. You had a movie night planned so you knew you had to actually wake up.

“Good morning, detka,” your beautiful Sokovian greeted, wrapping her slightly muscular arms around you, your back against her front. She placed a kiss on your shoulder, handing you a cup of coffee. You took a light sip, humming in satisfaction. It was just the way you liked it.

“Good morning, Wan,” you sighed leaning back into her, closing your eyes. Then it hit you that you were in the kitchen, where anyone could see you. You moved away from her quickly, spilling some of the precious liquid on the linoleum.

“Calm down (y/n/n), ” she pulled your front against her, now you were face to face with the woman, ” he’s on a run.” you sighed in relief.

“This is still dangerous, ” you whispered in her ear, giving into temptation. You rested your head on her shoulder. She kissed your ear playfully, sending chills down your back.

“ I know, I know, your old fashioned dad and all that, maybe if you actually talked to hi-“ She was cut off my Friday announcing your father’s presence in the compound. You both pulled away, busying yourselves with meaningless tasks. Your dad’s heavy foot steps, distracted you from pretending to add sugar to your, already perfect, coffee.

“Hey doll, are we still on for tonight,” the man asked moving past you to grab a banana. You nodded, doing your best to hide your flushed cheeks. Wanda winked at you then answered.

“About that,” the Sokovian began inching close to you, as if she needed to be closer to you to talk to him,” I was thinking I could join you tonight, only with your permission of course.” Your body froze when Wanda’s hand snaked down to lay on your ass. He hummed, nodding his head, hopefully unable to see.

“That ok with you (y/n)?” He asked in this weird voice he had taken to using with you lately. You just knew it was because of his rising suspicions. He was expecting a confession of guilt, he would not get it. Wanda pinched your ass after a long pause as if to tell you “say something”. It only succeeded in making you jump in surprise and stammer.

“Y-yeah- that’s cool- I guess.”

“Yeah. Real smooth (y/n)” you heard suddenly through your head. Wanda.

“Yeah it’s me..... obviously and stop making that face you’re weirding him out.” You turned your head to see your warped reflection in the toaster. Even contorted, your confused face was readable. You did your best to mend it. Wanda then began to send you an onslaught of dirty thoughts, which to be honest you sent right back. In only about a minute you both were very flustered and acting incredibly strange, to any outside viewer. You dad’s staring problem didn’t help either as you cleared you throat, realizing the situation was becoming even more incriminating.

“Hey dad?” You asked. Wanda lightly slipping out of your mind, you loudly exhaled at the feeling. Which you tried, and failed, to cover up with a yawn,” would you mind picking up some snacks for tonight, it’s been a while since we stocked up.”

You put on your best smile, you could hear Wanda stifle a laugh behind you. You pinched your arm as you fought the laughter that was threatening to rip out of you. In Wanda’s defense the excuse for getting him out was pretty bad. Considering all the shopping was done yesterday and if it wasn’t snacks were a call away.

“Yeah no problem, stay out of trouble when I’m gone ok?” The metal-armed man obliged. “Oh and by the way.” You turned your head from gazing longly in Wanda’s eyes. “You can stop flirting and just leave the room, you are not very good at hiding it.” You face flushed red, embarrassment cascaded through you. Wanda sent calming waves through you, slipping her hand into yours squeezing it for reassurance. Bucky continued,” I know you’re probably scared, don’t be, I love you, and I would be a hypocrite to be mad at something as silly as being gay. I mean considering all the stuff me and Steve did...” he trailed off, as if caught in a memory.

Your eyes widened in shock,” I’m sorry you and Steve did what now?”

[flourgirl]

Sleepyhead

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter will try just about anything to help out the very pretty insomniac from his math class.

Work Count: 11.2k

Warnings: Just some sweet, pure fluff with a few curse words every now and then.

A/N: Either the tags aren’t working for me or you guys just didn’t like it, but the final part of “Even If It’s a Lie” has been out for a few days now if anyone’s interested in reading it 🥺 Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this super long piece I’ve been working on to help me get through finals <3

“Touch you softly I call you up late at night No doubt it isn't right But you could be my one and only” -Softly, Clairo

Peter had seen you around campus a few times, but it wasn’t until you started sitting two rows ahead of him in his linear algebra class that he really started to notice you. 

He thought you were really pretty, and he liked how cozy you always looked in the puffy winter coat you kept on in the perpetually freezing lecture hall. You took a lot of notes, which told him that you cared about the class, and never showed up without a giant cup of iced coffee.

You’re being a creep, Peter told himself. He had thought about switching seats to somewhere in front of you, so he could actually listen to his professor discuss permutations instead of staring at how you chewed on the end of your pen when you were thinking.

It was even worse when you started sleeping in class, your soft hair falling around your shoulders as you leaned your head against your desk. It seemed like all the coffee in the world couldn’t keep you awake, and Peter wondered if he should ask if you wanted to borrow his notes or something. But that would mean him admitting to looking at you way more than he needed to, and that was weird, so he quickly dropped the idea.

Still, he was worried about you. So when he came back from patrol in the middle of the night and bumped into you outside of the dorm kitchen, he figured it would be the perfect opportunity to introduce himself and maybe even find out why you were so tired all the time. 

The only problem was that he had accidentally knocked your pan of banana bread out of your hands, and you were currently staring at it laying on the floor with your sleepy eyes, not saying anything.

“Shit, uh, I’m so sorry,” he told you, crouching down to scoop up the remnants of your late-night snack into the pan. “Were you really up baking at 3 a.m?”

You blushed a little, starstruck that the cute guy from your math class was talking to you. “Um, yeah. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d come down to the kitchen while nobody else was here and make something. Baking always helps me calm down, and so here I am. And here we are. And there’s my bread, all covered in whatever kind of dust the custodians refuse to sweep down here.”

He offered a soft smile, and it made you feel better about the fact that you were rambling way more than you wanted to.

“I’m Y/N,” you continued, gently taking the pan from his hands. “You’re in linear algebra with Professor Meyers, right?”

“Yeah, you, um, you sit right in front of me. Well, not right in front of me. Two rows in front of me. Shit. I’m not creepy, I promise. It’s just… uh… My name is Peter and I’m going to stop talking now.” 

That couldn’t have possibly gone any worse, he thought. You were probably thinking he was a serial killer or something.

“It’s okay. I know you sit behind me,” you reassured him. “You answer a lot of questions.” He was cute and smart, and you hoped he couldn’t notice how flustered you were to be this close to him.

“What are you doing up so late?” he asked, which made you laugh at how ironic his concerns were, considering he was also wandering around the dorm basement at this hour.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, sitting on one of the benches that jutted out of the walls of the corridor. “I mean, you’re here too. At least I was baking. What’s up with you?”

You had a point. “I had an emergency… with my internship. I work for Stark Industries, and Mr. Stark rang me in the middle of the night to come to the lab immediately for something, so, yeah. That’s why I’m awake right now.”

“Okay,” you said, not buying his story. “So that’s why you have a black eye and you’re lurking in the basement hallway? Did Tony Stark punch you?”

Fuck. Did he really have a black eye and not notice? He didn’t think that Doc Oc’s stupid mechanical arm had punched him that hard, but apparently, he was wrong. And now he had to come up with some reason as to where it came from, although he could already tell that you were about to call his bluff.

The only solution he could think of was to change the subject. “Why are you always asleep during class?” he blurted out, causing you to give him a funny look before frowning down at your slippers.

“Isn’t it obvious,” you yawned, stretching your arms out in front of you. “I’m an insomniac. It’s actually kind of funny. I never really had any problems with falling asleep until I moved here. Maybe it’s the cold weather or the constant pressure to get good grades, but I just can’t sleep anymore. It sucks.”

Normally, you’d never tell this much about yourself to somebody, let alone a complete stranger. But somehow, you felt really comfortable around Peter. There was just something about him that made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Peter caught himself staring at you again, your baby pink pajamas a far departure from how put together your usual outfits were. Even without your makeup or hair done, you were still the prettiest girl he had ever seen. For some reason, even the dark circles under your eyes were really cute to him.

“You never answered my question,” you reminded him, hoping that he’d say something to fill the awkward silence. “What’s with the black eye and wandering around in the middle of the night? Are you some kind of superhero?”

“What? No! That’s crazy. Me, a superhero,” he laughed awkwardly, wondering if you had somehow figured out his secret identity. Had you spotted him that one time he made sure that you and your friends got home safely from a late-night study session? Even so, you totally couldn’t have known it was him, right?

“Relax, I’m just joking,” you giggled, thinking about how cute he looked when he was flustered. “Although my friend did tell me she thought she saw Spider-Man a few weeks ago on her way back from a party.”

“Haha, yeah,” he breathed out, a wave of relief washing over him. It was times like these that he really started to appreciate how well-hidden his muscles were underneath all of his oversized sweaters.

“Does that hurt?” you asked, bringing your hand up to lightly brush his lip, which was bleeding. He flinched instinctively before settling under your touch, your eyes focused on the small cut. “I have a first aid kit in my room if you want some help cleaning it up.”

“Oh, no, it’s cool. I wouldn’t want to bother your roommate,” Peter told you, scooting further away on the bench, nearly falling off the edge of it. Ned hated it when he stumbled in at some ungodly hour after patrol and woke him up. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up and gesturing for him to follow you. “I have a single.”

Peter looked at you in awe. Freshmen never got rooms to themselves, and yet somehow you had one. “Okay, fine. But only because I’ve never actually seen a single in this building before.”

“That’s cool with me,” you smiled, reaching for his hand so he could keep up with your pace. He noticed that you were chewing some of the banana bread, which he really hoped was from the part that didn’t fall on the floor. To be fair though, it did smell really good.

Not only did you have a single, but you lived on the first floor. Peter couldn’t believe how lucky you were, considering the building that the two of you lived in didn’t have any elevators to traverse its seven floors.

He was even more shocked when you opened your door, revealing the coziest dorm room he had ever seen. How on earth did you transform the glorified prison cell into something that felt so... comforting? From the twinkling lights that were wrapped around everything and the soft rug under his feet, Peter found it really hard to believe that you had trouble sleeping here.

“Sorry, it’s a bit messy,” you apologized, piling your many throw pillows and blankets into a basket to clear up some space on your bed. “You can sit here.”

If this was messy, then Peter and Ned’s room needed some serious help. “No worries,” he said, watching as you rummaged around your drawers in search of your first aid kit.

Eventually, you found it hidden under a bunch of graph paper and colored pencils, untouched ever since your overprotective grandparents had helped you move in. “Here we go,” you mused, now looking inside it for alcohol wipes and band-aids.

He winced as you rubbed the little cloth against his lips, and you made sure to be more gentle as you cleaned up the other cuts on his face. Thankfully, nothing was bad enough to require stitches, something you were seriously under-qualified to do.

All Peter could focus on the entire time was how close you were and what it would be like to just kiss you right then and there, but he knew that was way too forward of him. Plus, he didn’t even know if you liked him like that. Surely you were just being nice.

Still, the way he caught you staring into his brown eyes after smoothing a band-aid on his forehead made him think otherwise.

“You’re going to have to tell me eventually who beat you up,” you sighed, gathering up wrappers to throw away and tucking the first aid kit back into its place in your drawers.

“It’s a long story,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your stare.

“I’ve got time,” you replied, climbing onto your lofted bed to sit next to him, innocently brushing your bare leg against his jeans, which made his breath hitch. “Tell me about it.”

“Uh, how about another time?” he stammered, hopping off the bed and running his hand through his hair. “After class tomorrow, or something. It’s getting pretty late. We should, um, go to sleep.”

“You can stay here if you want,” you offered, his eyes widening at your invitation. “On the bean bag, I mean. It’s actually really comfortable. You mentioned something about bothering your roommate and I figured that maybe you’d like to avoid the trouble tonight.”

“Oh…” Peter hesitated, looking for a reason to say no. He knew he’d never be able to sleep knowing that you were in the same room as him. “I don’t have any pajamas.”

“True,” you agreed, a little disappointed that he wasn’t interested in sticking around.

“I don’t actually even wear pajamas to sleep,” he continued, making you look back up at him instead of playing with the hem of your shirt. “It’s just… I sleep in my boxers.”

“I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable situation,” you sighed, your face hot with embarrassment.

“It’s not that! I mean, I do want to stay here. But, uh, you… well, you make me really nervous, Y/N,” he muttered, his glance bouncing around the room.

“Why?” you asked, your brows furrowing. “Did I do something?”

“No, no! Nothing at all. I promise, okay?”

“Okay. You can, um, get ready for bed, I guess. I promise not to look,” you assured him, turning on your side to face the wall.

“Thanks. Yeah, alright.” You heard him fumbling with his clothes, his sneakers making a soft thud on your floor. You did your best to resist the urge to glance back at him.

“Can I just use any of these?” he asked, although you had no idea what he was talking about.

“Peter, I’m not looking, remember? You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

“The blankets. Do I just pick one, or are you particular about them?”

“Oh. You can use whichever one you want to. But the coral one’s the softest and my personal favorite.” Peter stared at the basket in confusion. To him, they were all just pink. But based on touch alone, he pulled one out that he figured was a little more orange than the others.

He walked over to the light switch and flipped off the overhead fluorescents, letting the room be illuminated by the warm glow of your fairy lights, which weren’t too bright, but still twinkly and beautiful.

“Goodnight, Peter,” you whispered, snuggling into your comforter in the hopes that your heartbeat would slow down and let you fall asleep for once.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” In a matter of minutes, you could hear his soft snoring, and you figured that it would be okay just to take a quick peek since he’d probably be bundled up in one of your blankets.

His hair was perfectly messy, and he looked so cozy wrapped up in the blanket you had recommended. Still, as much as you could stare at his adorable face all night, you were exhausted. Burying your face under the covers, you did your best to calm your nerves and get some rest before class tomorrow.

----------------

“Peter,” you whispered, jostling him lightly by the shoulders in the hopes of waking him up. “Uh, we have an hour before class. I was thinking that it would be enough time for you to go shower and change, and then we could go get coffee or something.”

He blinked back up at you, amazed at how well he slept on your bean bag. You had already gotten ready for the day, doing your makeup and picking out one of your many fluffy sweaters to keep you warm in the New York snow.

“Thanks, that sounds awesome,” he yawned, accepting the hand you held out to help him up. The blanket fell, and you stared at each other in shock, having forgotten that Peter was in nothing but his underwear.

You dropped his hand as fast as you could, covering your eyes. “Oh my god! I’m sorry. Shit, I completely forgot, Peter. I’m so sorry. I’ll let you get dressed.”

Peter watched as you stumbled around the room, your eyes squeezed tightly as your hands attempted to guide you away from him.

“Y/N,” he started, catching your attention as you nearly ran into your bed frame. “You can open your eyes. Really, I don’t care if you see me like this if it means I can keep you from breaking your nose.”

You hesitantly opened your eyes, relieved that Peter had already managed to pull his pants back on. Still, he was completely shirtless, and you found yourself staring at the abs you would have never expected to be hiding underneath his clothes.

Moments later, you averted your gaze, although you knew that he probably noticed you looking at where was now covered by his plaid button-down and dark blue sweater.

“I’ll, um, be right back,” he muttered, before practically sprinting out of your room and up the stairs. You groaned in embarrassment, burying your face in a pillow before attempting to take a quick twenty-minute power nap.

Peter couldn’t believe it. Sure, he had thought one time about you seeing him without clothes on, but this wasn’t how he thought it would go at all. Still, the image of you staring at him shirtless, your face flushed, made him feel like he was going to have a heart attack.

“Dude! There you are,” Ned screamed, startled at his roommate’s unexpected entrance. Peter panted, having run up four flights of stairs as fast as he could. “Wait a second. Did you finally get laid? Is this a walk of shame?”

Before Ned could praise him any further, Peter was grabbing a change of clothes and sprinting towards the bathroom. Don’t think about her, he begged himself.

The memory of your leg touching his last night immediately came to mind, and Peter was so angry at himself for being this starved for physical intimacy. To be fair, though, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and so he cut himself some slack.

Shit, he told himself, making sure the water was set to cold. He needed to calm down, but instead, his thoughts were stuck on how good you looked in your pajamas, but also how good you would look without them and—fuck it. 

Peter liked you a lot, and if thinking about you like this in private kept him from being a complete weirdo in person, then maybe he just needed to get his feelings of desperation over with.

When he came back down to your room about thirty minutes later, you were still super tired. You trudged your way towards the door, your hair now noticeably messier than earlier, but at least that meant your nap had been a success.

His hair was still damp and this time he was wearing yet another blue sweater, which made you wonder if he ever wore any other color. He had his backpack slung over one of his shoulders and a nervous smile on his face as he locked eyes with you.

“Hey,” he said, pushing some of his hair out of his face. “Are you ready to go?”

You leaned against the doorway a little bit, letting out a yawn that was literally the cutest noise Peter had ever heard in his life. “Yeah, let me get my backpack.”

“It’s so heavy,” you continued, rightfully complaining as the weight of all its contents practically pulled you downwards. “I think it’s so stupid how almost every professor bans computers from class. Like, it’s not fair that I have to lug around three textbooks every day. I don’t have time to run back to my dorm in between classes like some people!”

Peter frowned. Three textbooks were nothing to him, but he knew that you didn’t have spidey-strength and that you were also pretty tiny compared to him. It must’ve been hell on your back to be carrying all that stuff around every day.

“I can carry it for you,” he offered, holding out his hand to switch with you. “Here, you can take my backpack if it’ll make you feel better. I have a lot of programming classes today, so I’ve only got my laptop and a notebook in there.”

You gave him a look of gratitude as he traded bags with you, literally taking the weight off your shoulders. He was right. His backpack was much more manageable for you, even if the dark grey contrasted with the light colors you always wore.

In contrast, it looked kind of odd for him to be walking around with a backpack that was covered in a soft pink floral pattern, much like everything else you owned, but the sight of him carrying your books brought a smile to your face. 

It was one of the sweetest things a guy had ever done for you, and Peter wasn’t even your boyfriend. He probably didn’t even think of you in that way.

“Uh, where do you usually get coffee?” he asked, slowing his pace so you could keep up. He felt bad seeing how tired you were, no doubt due to the lack of sleep you got last night.

“The Starbucks next to Hendrie Hall,” you replied, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “You?”

“I don’t drink coffee,” he admitted. “I’m actually more of a tea person.”

“Oh,” you hesitated, wondering if it was worth it to walk all the way across campus just for a caramel ribbon crunch frappuccino. “We could go somewhere closer then.”

“It’s okay,” Peter reassured you, grabbing your hand and pulling you along to your destination. “I like walking.”

----------------

You hadn’t really talked to Peter since that morning before class, but sometimes you would peek behind you and catch him stealing glances at you. Eventually, he had started to feel brave enough to give you a little wave whenever you caught him looking at you. Well, at least the times when you were awake.

One day, not even the loud shuffling and growing chatter of your classmates exiting the lecture hall could wake you up, and Peter figured he better do something before you got chewed out by one of the TAs.

“Y/N?” he said, leaning closer so that you could hopefully hear him. “Y/N. You gotta wake up. Class ended three minutes ago.”

He shook you a little bit, nervously hoping that you wouldn’t mind him touching you. Your eyes fluttered open, and you smiled softly as soon as you realized it was Peter. 

“Oh. Thanks,” you said, standing up to slide your empty notebook into your backpack. Your hand brushed the side of your mouth, making sure you hadn’t drooled onto yourself.

“You can borrow my notes,” he offered, glancing at you sheepishly as you gathered up your coat and fixed your hair. “If you want to.”

“That’d be great,” you sighed, wondering whether you should skip your next class and just go take a nap. At this point, you weren’t even bothering to put on makeup and you basically wore whatever clothes you had that weren’t already sprawled across your room.

“Are you alright?” Peter asked, walking close to you to make sure you didn’t fall over. He knew you were an insomniac, but you looked seriously sleep-deprived today. “Have you been sleeping at all lately?”

“Nope,” you huffed, lugging your perpetually heavy backpack along. “But I’m skipping the rest of my classes today. I’d rather lie that I’m sick through an e-mail than have to explain to my professors why I was sleeping during their classes.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed, stopping you in your tracks to take your backpack from you. “I’ve actually got some time before my next class. I can walk you back to your room and give you my notebook if that’s okay with you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you told him, reaching to take your bag back from him, although he didn’t let you. 

“Y/N. Come on, you’re exhausted. At least let me carry your stuff, alright?” He had such a kind look in his eyes, and you certainly didn’t have the energy to keep arguing for no reason.

“Okay.” You crossed your arms, the cold air slowly waking you up as the wind hit your face. Your ears were super cold, but you were glad you had pulled your hair into a quick braid to keep it from flying everywhere.

It wasn’t long before you were kicking your boots off in your dorm room, your teeth chattering as you wrapped yourself in a blanket. 

“Do you want some tea?” you asked Peter, inviting him to sit down wherever.

“Sure, but I thought you drank coffee,” he reminded you, watching as you pulled an assortment of tea bags for him to choose from.

“I do,” you said, handing him the box and running to your bathroom to fill up the electric kettle. “But you drink tea.”

Peter’s ears suddenly felt hot. You had gotten tea just for him. Or maybe you were just a really good hostess and kept some around for all of your visitors. Probably the second option, he thought.

“Are you even allowed to have one of those?” he asked as the two of you waited for the water to boil.

“No,” you laughed, sitting next to him on your bed. For someone with so much space to themselves, you really needed to invest in more places to sit. “But you can’t have candles or fairy lights either, so I guess I’m just a rule breaker.”

“Guess I’ll just have to report you to the RA,” Peter teased, getting up to make himself a cup of earl grey. “Do you have any sugar?”

“Top drawer on the right,” you replied. “Do you have a sweet tooth?”

“Yes.” You watched as his lips blew on the tea to cool it down before remembering that it was weird to stare.

“You should let me bake something for you. What’s your favorite dessert?” You were kicking your dangling legs, suddenly feeling a lot more awake than this morning.

“Chocolate cake. With chocolate frosting,” he said in between sips, walking back over to you. With you on the tall bed and him standing, your faces were level with each other.

“I’ll have to make you one to thank you,” you smiled, peering into his eyes. Peter felt your heartbeat quicken, and the grin on your face as you stared at each other made him weak in the knees.

“Can I get those notes?” you asked, making him remember that people don’t just look at each other and say nothing like that.

“Oh! Yeah, definitely.” He quickly set the mug down on your nightstand to rummage through his backpack, flipping one of his notebooks open before handing it to you. “There are the ones from today, but all of the ones I’ve taken this semester are in there too.”

“Wow,” you laughed, making a worried expression form on his face.

“What’s wrong? Are they not good?”

“No, it’s not that. They’re just, uh, very thorough.” He had basically transcribed your professor’s lectures onto the pages. “You must write really fast. But thank you, Peter. I really appreciate it.”

Peter nodded before nervously gulping down the rest of his tea, not even noticing how hot the liquid still was as it nearly burned his throat. 

“I should go now,” he started, looking around the room for his things. “I want you to get some rest, Y/N. Please.”

He had this look in his eyes that was so genuine—so full of care and concern—that it made you want to do whatever he asked you to.

“I’ll try,” you told him, awkwardly rubbing the top of your arm in the hopes that you could actually fall asleep after he left. “Have a nice day, Peter.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll stop by later,” he said, already halfway out the door. “For the notes, I mean! Uh, bye. Again. Okay. I’m going to go now.” 

You giggled, giving him one last wave before he left. Like magic, the more you thought about how Peter was worried about you, the easier it was for you to drift off into a peaceful sleep, finally feeling at ease for the first time in weeks.

----------------

You woke up later that day to Peter knocking on your door, this time standing next to some guy in a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt.

“Hi, Y/N,” Peter greeted you. You looked a lot less tired than when he saw you this morning, which relieved him. “This is my roommate, Ned. He just wanted to know who I’ve been hanging out with, so I hope it’s okay that I brought him here to prove you’re real and not a figment of my imagination.”

Ned leaned closer to you, your hair still a little messy from your nap. “Blink twice if he’s paying you,” he whispered, causing you to giggle. Peter looked on nervously, unsure of what his best friend had just said to you.

“What did you say!?” he asked, lightly pushing Ned on the arm, knowing that it was probably something meant to embarrass him.

“Ow! Okay, now I’m really not telling you,” Ned replied, rubbing the spot where Peter had just hit him.

“Y/N, what did Ned say to you?” He turned to you, a worried look on his face as you and Ned held back your laughter. Peter’s face turned as red as a tomato, making you instantly feel a little bit bad. 

“It was nothing, Peter. Really,” you said, pulling him into the room with you. “It was nice to meet you, Ned. I’ll make sure he’s back before curfew.”

Ned laughed, offering a quick thumbs up and mouthing “I like her” to Peter before you shut the door on him.

“I knew that was a mistake,” Peter sighed, his back against the door. You were still a bit giddy from the exchange, giggling softly as he slowed his breathing.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed around me,” you reassured him. “We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s just that…”

“What?” You could barely hear him as his voice trailed off.

“Well, uh, not all of my friends are, you know…”

“Spit it out, Peter,” you said, leaning closer so that you could hear him better.

“They’re not as pretty as you,” he muttered, making you blush at his words. Did he really think you were pretty?

“Oh. Thanks,” you smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Peter lifted his head up, relieved that you didn’t think he was a creep or something.

“Your notebook’s on my desk,” you continued, stepping back a little to give him some space. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the distance between you and him grew. “I just took a bunch of pictures, so I can look at them on my computer whenever.”

“Alright, awesome,” he said, walking over to collect it before turning back to you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty well, actually. The best I’ve slept in a while. I think you’re some kind of good luck charm.”

“Really?” he asked, a little surprised that he had been helpful.

“Really. You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe it’d be nice if we hung out somewhere that wasn’t my room all the time,” you said, a hopeful look in your eyes. “If you want.”

Peter had never noticed it before, but the two of you really did spend most of your time together in your room. It really was a nice room, but it made sense that you’d want to get out of it every once and a while.

“I’d like that. What did you have in mind?” Play it cool, Parker, he told himself. You can freak out with Ned later.

“How about ice cream on Friday?” you suggested, which came as a bit of a surprise to him.

“In the middle of winter?” As far as Peter could remember, you were always cold.

“Yeah. I really love ice cream,” you added, smiling up at him.

“Okay, then. Ice cream it is,” he agreed. There was absolutely no way he could ever say no to you when you looked at him like that.

----------------

“May! No, it’s not a date. She’s just a friend. Yeah, I got it. Open the door, pay for her, don’t be an idiot!” Peter sighed into his phone, hoping his aunt’s unwarranted crash course on first dates would be over soon. “Yes, I’m wearing the green sweater. Thanks, love you. Bye!”

“I have no idea who told her I had a date tonight,” he groaned, slumping down onto the couch next to his best friend.

“I texted her,” Ned replied nonchalantly, not even looking away from whatever video game he was playing. “Knew you’d need some kind of pointers. Y/N is way out of your league.”

“Hey!” Was he right? Yes. Did Peter need to be reminded of it right before his not-a-date date with you? Definitely not.

“Come on, you know I’m right. It’s Liz Allan all over again. I have no idea how you keep pulling all of these pretty girls, but hey, credit where credit is due.”

“You’re so mean.”

“I keep it real and you love it. Good luck, man.”

“Bye,” Peter grumbled, slipping on his coat and walking out of their room. Four flights of stairs later, he was at your door.

“Hi!” you squeaked, wrapping your arms around him. This was the first time the two of you had ever hugged and Peter was not going to forget about it anytime soon. “Come in. I have a surprise for you!”

“Here,” you continued, holding out a blue and white beanie for him. “I made it for you. To match all those blue sweaters you wear all the time.” Except this time, he was wearing a forest green one, which brought out the slight hazel tinge in his eyes.

“You made this for me?” he asked, eyeing the different stitches you had used and fiddling with the pom-pom on top. It looked store-bought.

“Well, yeah, silly. I just said that,” you replied, hoping that he liked it. With all the time you didn’t sleep, you were knitting anyway, but this was a special present for him. “Try it on.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” he sighed, pulling the hat onto his head. He looked really cute, the ends of his wavy hair peeking out from underneath the brim.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, pulling him out of your room and towards the front of the dorm building. “Getting to hang out with you is good enough for me.”

“Where’d you learn how to knit?” Peter questioned, walking alongside you on the snow-lined sidewalks. With how cold it was, and considering he didn’t have a hood on his coat, it seemed like perfect timing that you had given him a hat.

“My grandma taught me,” you shared, taking in the twinkling of the streetlamps and how they bounced against the snow. In New York, that was practically the closest you could get to stargazing. “My, uh, grandparents actually raised me.”

“Oh. I was raised by my aunt and uncle,” Peter confided. It made you feel not so alone to find out that he didn’t grow up with his parents either, even though you knew firsthand just how hard it was.

“Do they live around here?” you asked, stealing glances at him and how rosy his cheeks were in the cold air.

“Yeah, my aunt lives in Queens,” he told you, staring at his feet to both avoid eye contact and make sure neither of you accidentally slipped. Not that he wouldn’t catch you, but he wanted to be safe. “My uncle actually passed away a couple of years ago.”

You stopped walking, immediately feeling a sense of regret. “I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. There was no way for you to have known that,” Peter reassured you, his warm breath coming out in clouds, and he reached for your hand to run his thumb across your knuckles. He gently pulled you along, keeping you from dying of embarrassment in the middle of campus.

“What about you? Are you from around here?” he asked, hoping to break the silence and make you feel a little bit better.

“No, I just moved up here for college. I grew up in Texas but moved to North Carolina when I was 13, so I finished school down there,” you explained, Peter suddenly noticing a slight Southern twang to your voice. “I just really wanted to go to school in a big city and not next to a farm for once in my life.” 

“That makes sense,” he laughed, wondering what it would be like to live somewhere else. “I’ve only ever lived in New York City.”

“Do you like it here?”

“I love it. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, to be honest.”

“Me either,” you sighed, squeezing his hand tighter as the two of you enjoyed your walk in the snow.

It seemed like forever before you reached the ice cream shop, but you didn’t mind. That just gave you and Peter more time to get to know each other better. Turns out you both competed in academic decathlons, although you were more of a math person and he preferred science.

“Okay, you’re wrong. Night at the Museum 2 is so much better than the first one. I mean that kiss between Ben Stiller and Amy Adams? The Jonas Brothers as little cherub angels? Name one thing from the original that tops that,” you ranted in between spoonfuls of peppermint ice cream.

“I just really like when the little cowboy and gladiator are driving that toy car around,” he reasoned, subtly admitting defeat.

“Don’t even get me started on why the second Shrek movie—”

You were interrupted by the sound of Peter’s phone ringing, and you immediately recognized his ringtone as the Coconut Mall theme from Mario Kart. He peered down at his phone screen, sighing and mouthing an apology to you as he accepted the call.

“Uh, hey, Mr. Stark. Did you need something?” Well, at least you knew he wasn’t lying about his internship at Stark Industries. “Toronto? Tonight? I’m kind of busy.”

There was a long pause as Peter mentally kicked himself for talking back to Tony, resulting in an earful about how being an Avenger should always be at the top of his priorities.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’ll be right over… but I need a favor. Could you send Happy to pick my friend up? Yeah, it’s the ice cream shop on 1st. Thank you so much, Mr. Stark. Bye.” He frowned at you, and you could tell from what you had heard that he had to go.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s just, something came up last minute and Mr. Stark really needs me to go on this business trip with him,” he apologized, pulling his coat on. “But, uh, he’s sending a car for you. So don’t worry about walking back alone, alright? I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you when I get back, okay? Bye!”

“Oh, okay. Bye!” you managed to call out before he was running out the doors and down the street. Lots of customers were staring as you awkwardly gathered your things and went to go wait on the sidewalk.

A few minutes later, a shiny black car had pulled up to the curb in front of you, a man rolling down the window.

“Miss Y/N? I’m Happy Hogan. Mr. Stark sent me to drive you home,” he called from the driver’s seat, before getting out to open your door for you. You stepped in, a little starstruck at how nice the car was. You had never been in anything this expensive before. 

The two of you were sitting in silence until you finally got the courage to speak up. 

“Mr. Hogan,” you started, causing him to turn down the smooth jazz that had been playing on the radio. “Do you know why Peter has to go to Toronto?”

“Yes,” he replied, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. “But I can’t tell you that.”

“Oh, okay,” you accepted, shifting to look out the window at all of the places in the city that you hadn’t yet gotten the chance to explore. 

Eventually, he was dropping you off in front of your dorm, and you were trudging inside to your room to sulk about how your not-a-date date with Peter had gotten interrupted. You stared at your ceiling all night, wondering when the next time you’d see each other would be, and whether or not he’d come back with the same cuts and bruises as when you had first met.

----------------

Peter had been gone for six days and counting, and you were starting to worry that he might never come back. You had already started missing him the night he left, and now it was just some agonizing waiting game for him to return.

You must have spent hours in the basement kitchen before deciding to visit the fourth floor where Peter lived. You knocked on the door and was quickly met with Ned’s shocked expression.

“Uh, hi, Y/N. Peter’s not here right now. Did you need something?”

“I know,” you acknowledged, holding up the plate in your hand. “It’s just, well, I’ve been baking a lot and I didn’t really know who to give all of these cookies to, so I was wondering if you wanted any.”

“Oh, in that case, sign me up!” You watched as his face lit up as he noticed the assortment of chocolate chip, sugar, and snickerdoodle cookies all still warm from the oven. He offered his hands out to take the plate from you, which you happily relinquished. 

“These are really good,” he complimented, his mouth full of a sugar cookie. “Can I keep the rest of them?”

“Yeah, of course,” you answered, doing your best to smile despite how much you wished it had been Peter opening the door. “I’ll see you around, Ned.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he called out to you, making you turn around on the stairwell. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Peter’s going to be back any day now.” You nodded, offering him a wave and walking back down to your room.

Turns out Ned had been right. The strange noises outside of your window were masked by how loud you were jamming out to We Didn’t Start the Fire by Billy Joel, jumping around and listing off the lyrics that had never made much sense to you. Peter knocked louder on the glass, startling you as you quickly switched off the music to investigate.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, squinting your eyes to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. “Spider-Man? Is that really you?”

You fumbled to push up your window, extremely confused as to why one of the Avengers was outside your bedroom this late at night.

“It’s me, Y/N,” he explained, his voice suddenly becoming extremely familiar. Your eyes widened as you realized who was behind the mask.

“Oh my god! PETER?” you screamed as he slipped through the window, pulling off his mask and clapping a hand over your mouth.

“Don’t freak out. It’s okay. It’s just me, okay?” he stammered in an attempt to get you to calm down before an RA heard. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I really wanted to tell you, but we were in public when I left, and I couldn’t risk it. And I didn’t want to text it or do it over the phone because it’s kind of a big deal, so I figured I’d just come to see you as soon as I got back and Mr. Stark said that you have to promise—”

“It’s okay, Peter,” you interrupted, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face into the very weird material of his spider-suit. “I won’t tell anybody.”

He softened under your touch, resting his head on top of yours. “I like your dance moves,” he whispered, making you glare up at him, your face suddenly very red.

“How long were you watching?” you groaned, dramatically throwing yourself onto your bean bag, your face covered by your hands.

“Only for about a minute,” he answered, pulling your hands down so you could see him grinning at you. “I especially liked how you used your hairbrush as a microphone. Plus, I thought we agreed to stop being embarrassed around each other?”

“Well, that was before I knew you were freaking Spider-Man!”

“Okay, fair enough,” he agreed, nudging you to scoot over and make room for him.

“So, that’s what that whole Toronto thing was?” you asked as he sat next to you, your knee touching his.

“Yep. There was this thing about aliens and these guys that could shapeshift. It’s a lot to explain.”

“Are you going to keep that thing on all night?” you asked, gesturing at his outfit, which was very tight and very distracting from whatever alien story he had to tell.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so,” he shrugged. “I don’t have anything on underneath it.”

“How scandalous,” you teased. “Not so family-friendly after all, huh, Spidey?”

“Oh, shut up,” he quipped, rolling his eyes as you let out a long yawn.

“Have you been sleeping much?” he continued, suddenly remembering the issue that had brought the two of you together in the first place.

“Of course not. I’ve been too busy worrying about my classes and, oh, just some idiot I know that abandoned me in the middle of an ice cream shop. Pretty sure he said he’d make that up to me, by the way.”

“Okay, okay. Message received. What would you like?” Please say a kiss. Please say a kiss. Please say a—

“Can I meet them? The Avengers, I mean. It’s not like anyone else really has a secret identity except for you.”

“Oh. I mean, I’d have to ask Mr. Stark and the rest of the team and see if they’re cool with it, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Awesome! You’re the best,” you chimed, wrapping your arms around him and planting a kiss on his cheek.

It was then that Peter decided he would just never be able to wash that side of his face again, his heart nearly skipping a beat.

“Peter,” you said, breaking the silence he had left the two of you in. “I’m tired.”

“Me too,” he sighed. “I should head up to my room. Gotta make sure Ned knows I’m still alive.”

“Yeah, of course,” you agreed, standing up to see him out. “Aren’t you worried somebody will see you, though?”

“Y/N, it’s 4 a.m. I’m pretty sure that you and I are the only people on campus that are awake right now.”

“Oh, right. Still, be careful, okay?” you told him, slightly worried at his secret identity being found out by some college kid that just couldn’t stay off Twitter.

“Will do,” he said, smiling and giving you a little salute before leaving.

----------------

A few days later, before you could even greet him, Peter was already walking into your room. It was 10 p.m., a little earlier than when he usually came over, but by now you were used to him showing up at your door unannounced.

He was already wearing his pajamas, a t-shirt with a science pun and some flannel pants that he had invested in to avoid any more awkward moments between the two of you. You were dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt, the clothes you usually threw on after class just in case you fell asleep on accident. There had been more times where you had woken up sweaty with your jeans stuck to your legs than you were willing to admit.

“Okay, so I asked Mr. Stark about your request and he told me he doesn’t think now is a good time, but…” he grinned, holding out a giant cardboard box with some kind of minimalist home appliance on the front for you to look at.

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” you blinked back, trying to figure out what the hell you were staring at, considering that all of the text written on it was in a language you didn’t know how to read.

“It’s some fancy white noise machine from Japan. If I remember correctly, Mr. Stark said he made Pepper order it because I wouldn’t shut up about you, and it would be in everybody’s best interest if you got some sleep, so I could stop annoying him and the rest of the team.”

“Oh. That’s pretty thoughtful, I guess,” you said, gathering things off your floor to make space for it.

He set the box down on your rug and got to work opening it. Meanwhile, you were busy translating what exactly Tony Stark had so generously gifted to you.

“Peter, wait. This thing is like $300. Doesn’t he know that you can just look up whale noises on YouTube for free?”

“Yeah, but this one adjusts its volume based on the noises around it, has a light that simulates the sun rising, and has an alarm noise that’s supposed to support healthy cortisol levels.”

Peter peered up to see your arms crossed and brows furrowed, it suddenly becoming clear to him that the things he had just listed meant very little to you.

“Plus, he’s a literal billionaire, so I don’t think it was that big of a loss for him,” he added.

“Fine. Let’s just hope this thing works,” you sighed, watching as Peter leafed through the instruction manual before tossing it behind him. “It’s a little early to go to sleep, though.”

“Y/N, plenty of people go to sleep at 10. Not everybody is nocturnal like you.”

“I guess you have a point,” you agreed, kneeling down beside him as he fiddled with all the settings.

“I know,” he said with a smirk as you rested your chin on his shoulder to get a better look at what he was doing. “What time do you want to wake up? 7 a.m. would give us time to go get breakfast before class, but we could do 8 if you wanted to sleep in.”

“We?” you mused, liking the sound of that. “I guess that means you’re staying here tonight?”

“Well, yeah. I’m not letting you have all these overpriced rainforest noises to yourself.”

“Do 7. We can go get those blueberry muffins that you like,” you decided, standing up to get Peter’s makeshift bed on your bean bag ready. “Do you actually like sleeping on this thing, or were you just trying to be polite the first time I asked?”

“Dude, that thing is awesome. It’s like I’m on this little cuddly cloud, and then you add all those warm blankets and the twinkly lights and it’s the perfect recipe for me to fall asleep.”

“Wow,” you nodded, looking around your room to see all of the things that Peter was talking about. “I wish it worked that way for me.”

“Maybe it will, tonight.”

It didn’t. You were tossing and turning for nearly an hour to the agonizing sounds of birds cawing and the occasional monkey chatter, all set against the backdrop of a heavy thunderstorm. To be honest, it was something that would’ve given you nightmares when you were little.

“Y/N?” Peter whispered from the floor. “Are you sleeping?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

“Could you turn that thing off? It’s really distracting me.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, leaning over to switch the noise machine off. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

He hesitated, not really sure if he should ask the question that he had been thinking about for a while now. “How old were you when your parents died?”

You had to think for a moment, not really sure about the answer. For as long as you could remember, you just lived with your grandparents. “Um, well my mom left when I was a baby. And I think my dad passed away when I was four.”

“Oh,” Peter mumbled. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a parent leave you, but he didn’t want to pry just in case it was a sensitive topic. “Are your grandparents from your mom or dad’s side?”

You rolled over to rest your head on the edge of your bed so that you could see him better. He looked so cute bundled up in all of your blankets, his hair already a bit messy. “They’re my mom’s parents. It’s weird. I see a lot of pictures of her from when she was growing up, and I look so much like her, but she’s basically a stranger to me.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something else, but there was a long pause and he decided not to.

“What about you? How old were you when your parents passed away?”

“Five or six. They met while working at the C.I.A. together, but most of my memories are from the stories my aunt and uncle told me when I was growing up.”

For a moment, neither of you could find the right words to say to each other.

“Peter,” you spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m really glad I met you.”

“I’m really glad I met you too.”

----------------

Peter’s next plan of action involved even more advice from his fellow Avengers, and you were not looking forward to trying out any of their suggestions. 

“Okay, so, Steve—I mean Captain America—said that when he was little, you know, in the 1940s, all he had to do was drink a glass of warm milk before bed.”

“I’m lactose intolerant,” you groaned, crossing your arms.

“I just saw you eat an entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s in one sitting the other day.”

“Regular milk has almost 15 times more lactose than ice cream. You’d think a science nerd like you would know that.”

“I’m a geek,” he scoffed, clearly a little bit offended. “Not a nerd.”

“Yeah, I can see that now. It’s okay, though. At least you’re pretty,” you said, pinching his cheek.

“Just try it,” he grumbled, handing you the warm glass and waiting impatiently for you to take a sip. If anything, the milk did a better job at keeping you up that night than putting you to sleep. Not even thirty minutes after you had gone to bed, you were feeling sick to your stomach.

“I hate milk,” you gagged, Peter holding your hair back as you kneeled over the toilet bowl. “My grandpa could never get me to drink it as a kid.”

“Is that why you’re so short?” he laughed, helping you up. You glared at him as you moved to the sink to wash the acidic taste out of your mouth.

“Shut up, Parker,” you quipped, tired and grumpy from how terrible you felt. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”

“Alright, munchkin,” he smiled, pulling you out of the bathroom and back towards your bed.

Somehow, the warm milk wasn’t even the worst of Peter’s ideas, because a few days later, he was standing at your door with a bottle of some Asgardian sleep aid from the lightning god himself.

“Are you sure this is safe for me to drink?” you asked, your eyes widening as you stared at the silvery liquid that was almost shimmering.

“Uh, I’m about 87% confident you’ll live,” he said, “But I’m 100% sure that it’ll work.”

“Gee, thanks. Now I really want to drink this weird alien potion,” you sighed, looking at him nervously.

“Just drink a little bit and see if you feel anything,” Peter encouraged, leaning over your shoulder. You nodded, hesitantly bringing the drink up to your lips to take a sip.

“This stuff tastes amazing,” you mused, taking a bigger gulp this time. “Like a blue raspberry slushie.”

“Whoa, that’s enough,” he warned, taking the bottle from your hands before you could drink any more of it. “We don’t want you to go into a coma.”

“I don’t feel anything,” you shrugged, frowning back at him. “Maybe I should—”

You stopped mid-sentence to let out a loud yawn, the potion starting to take effect. Peter caught you as you slumped down in your chair, helping you into bed.

“Okay. I definitely feel it now,” you admitted, already half asleep. Peter tucked you under your blankets, placing a kiss on your forehead as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispered, turning off your lights and softly closing the door behind him. 

For a moment, Peter had thought he had finally found a solution to your insomnia. At least before you slept through class the next morning. And then the day after that. But it wasn’t until the third day that he really started to freak out.

“Where’s Thor!?” he panted, having run all the way from his class over to the Avengers Tower. Wanda and Vision stared back at him from the kitchen, very confused at what he was so panicked about.

“He’s in his room,” Bucky called from the couch, his mouth full of popcorn as 13 Going on 30 played on the big screen. “What’s going on, kid?”

“No time to explain. Gotta go!” Peter called, sprinting up the stairs towards Thor’s room. He knocked frantically until the door finally swung open.

“Greetings, young Spiderling. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Thor smiled, his long, golden hair shiny as ever.

“I think I killed my almost-girlfriend!” Peter blurted out, practically sweating from how stressed out he was. “She drank that stuff you gave me and she hasn’t woken up in three days now!”

Thor chuckled, patting Peter on the head. “Do not worry, my brother. I’m sure she will wake up given time. It was a very potent drink, after all. Calm yourself.”

“Okay,” he sighed, relieved to know that he hadn’t poisoned you to death. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool. She’s fine. Everything’s fine. Thanks, man. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around.”

“Farewell, Peter. May we meet again soon,” he grinned before closing the door in Peter’s face.

On the way back down the stairs, Peter figured he’d give you a call and see if you were still sleeping.

“Hello?” you groaned, your throat dry from just waking up. “Peter, what the hell happened to me?”

“THANK GOD YOU’RE ALIVE!” Peter yelled into the phone, making you recoil from the volume of his excitement. “You’ve been asleep for three days, Y/N. I thought you were dead.”

“I am very much alive,” you laughed, slowly feeling the potion wearing off. “Where are you?”

“Uh. I may have run all the way to Midtown to ask Thor if I had killed you,” he admitted, feeling you roll your eyes through the screen. “I was worried, okay?”

“Now you know how I feel whenever you leave for a mission,” you countered, glad that Peter couldn’t see how much you were blushing. “Hurry up and get your butt back over here. I have the weirdest dream to tell you about.”

----------------

Even if you still weren’t getting a full eight hours of rest at night, it was obvious that all of Peter’s efforts had vastly improved your sleep schedule. Over the past few months, you had gone from staring at your ceiling all night to actually being able to stay asleep for small periods of time.

“Your eyelashes are so long,” you mused, playing with Peter’s hair. He was sitting in between your legs and How the Grinch Stole Christmas was playing on your TV.

“Really?” He tilted his head back to look at you, batting his eyelashes and making you giggle.

“Yes. It’s not fair that boys get all of the pretty eyelashes,” you pouted, watching as the Grinch explained his plan to steal all of Whoville’s presents to his dog.

“I think yours are pretty,” he replied, a soft smile on his face. “But there’s a rogue one just hanging out on your face right now.”

“Can you get it?” you asked, your eyes still glued on the TV screen. Peter nodded, twisting around to gently brush the eyelash from your cheek.

“Do you want to make a wish?” he laughed, holding the little eyelash on the tip of his finger in front of you.

“Okay,” you agreed, squeezing your eyes shut and blowing it away. When you opened them, Peter’s face was only inches away from yours.

“What did you wish for?” His gaze shifted downwards to look at your lips for a split second, before returning to look into your eyes.

“I can’t tell you, dummy. Then it won’t come true.” You weren’t about to tell your best friend that you wished for him to kiss you. At least not now, while the two of you were stuck in this really weird “not dating, but more than just friends” limbo.

“Fine,” he frowned, crossing his arms and pouting in a way that you recognized had been mimicked after you.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you said, mirroring his stance. Your puppy dog eyes were definitely a lot more convincing than his.

“I’m not.”

“Uh-huh, sure. You smell really good, by the way. Well, your hoodie does. I could just wrap myself up in it and fall asleep.”

“How come you’ve never mentioned that before? You could’ve been out cold every night months ago!”

“Guess I was just too distracted by your dreamy face,” you teased, causing Peter to blush.

“Whatever. Seriously, though. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I think it took me a while to realize how sleepy I got whenever you were really close to me,” you shrugged. “You’re not mad at me, right?”

“Of course not. But if I had known sooner I would’ve just given you one,” he said, slipping the hoodie over his head and handing it to you. “Here, put it on. You better fall asleep instantly or I’m calling bullshit.”

“You caught me, Peter. This was all some elaborate plan for me to steal one of your hoodies.”

“Just put it on. The suspense is killing me.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled his hoodie on. Just from looking at Peter and how slim he was, you never would have guessed that it would be this oversized on you.

“How do I look?” you asked, striking silly poses in front of him. Peter involuntarily licked his lips and he knew he’d be replaying this image of you in his head for the next few weeks.

“You’re going to have to keep that,” he stammered, doing his best to hide how much he really liked seeing you in his clothes. “It looks a lot better on you. I, um, have to go do my homework. And call my aunt. And walk my roommate.”

Peter stumbled to his feet, staring at his wristwatch to maintain his act that he was late for something before grabbing his things and heading out the door, making sure to hold his backpack in front of him. “Let me know if the hoodie thing works. Bye!”

----------------

Brushing off Peter’s strangely abrupt departure from last night, you nuzzled into your pillow, the warm morning light spilling through your curtains. Last night had probably been your best sleep in months, and you even got to wake up late since it was Saturday. Things probably couldn’t have gone any better.

Before you knew it, you were running up to Peter’s room and banging on his door. He opened the door on your fourth knock, right after Ned had chucked a pillow at him, and you were met with his sleepy eyes and messy hair.

“It worked!” you yelped in excitement, twirling around and still wearing his hoodie. “Well, kind of. I fell asleep after about an hour, and then I slept for maybe three after that. But I had to pee in the middle of the night, and when I got back into bed I couldn’t fall back asleep until 6 a.m.”

“That’s some good progress,” he yawned, stepping out into the hallway to keep your little celebration from bothering Ned too much. “If only we could get you to sleep the entire night.”

“I know right. But I’m so happy!” you cheered, wrapping your arms around him. “We finally did something right!”

“We need to celebrate!” you continued, grabbing Peter’s hand and dragging him down the stairs. “Come on. We’re making you a chocolate cake!”

You stopped by your room on the way to the kitchen, piling a bunch of ingredients into Peter’s arms from your mini-fridge and various shelves.

“Okay, eggs, flour, butter, sugar, chocolate. Damn it. We’re all out of milk.” You side-eyed him, remembering the whole Captain America induced fiasco from a couple weeks ago. 

“I think we might have some in our room,” Peter laughed. “Ned drinks a lot of milk mixed with Milo powder. It’s some obsession he picked up when his family took a vacation to Australia. I’ll go get it.”

He set all of the ingredients you had given him on your desk and sprinted back up the stairs to raid Ned’s stash, already thinking of ways to apologize for it later.

A few minutes later he was knocking on your door, out of breath, and dressed to brave the many inches of snow that had fallen overnight. 

“We didn’t have any milk,” he panted. “But I can run to the dining hall and get a few cartons.”

“I’ll go with you.” You quickly pulled on your snow boots and layered your puffer coat on top of Peter’s hoodie, wrapping a hand-knit scarf around your neck just to be safe. “All ready.”

Getting the milk was the easy part. Making sure you didn’t die of frostbite was another story. By the time you and Peter got back to your room, your nose was super red and you couldn’t feel your toes.

“Okay,” you said, your teeth chattering. “I thought I was used to the snow by now, but that was something else.” You dropped your coat on the ground and climbed into your bed, burying yourself under your comforter.

“I thought we were making a cake,” he laughed, walking over to see you peeking out of the pile.

“Cake will have to wait,” you whined, your voice slightly muffled by the blanket. “Come here. I need some of your body heat.”

“Okay,” he stuttered, kicking off his sneakers and climbing in beside you. He had sat on your bed a lot since the two of you met, but this was the first time that he was actually laying in it. You snuggled up to him, and he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you.

“This is nice,” you sighed, nuzzling your head into his chest. “Is this one of your superpowers? Spidey-warmth?” Peter let out a soft laugh. It was silly but true. Ever since the bite, he never really noticed how cold it was outside anymore.

“Y/N,” he whispered, tightening his grip around your waist. Your head was nestled underneath his chin, and he could smell the faint citrus scent of your shampoo. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it, Pete?” you yawned, your eyelids heavy from how comfy Peter’s cuddles were.

“I love you.” He held his breath, nervously waiting for you to respond.

“I know,” you giggled, intertwining your legs. “Sometimes, you talk in your sleep. You’ve probably professed your love for me at least eight times by now.”

“Oh.” Peter had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that.

“Don’t worry. I love you, too,” you assured him, grinning and placing little kisses on his jawline. “I thought that was obvious.”

“Maybe you could make it a little more obvious,” he mumbled, his heartbeat getting quicker as you shifted up to kiss him on the lips, your hand running through his hair.

“I will,” you smiled, your forehead resting against his. “But after we take a nap, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter agreed, snuggling as close as he possibly could to you, never wanting to let go. In no time at all, he watched happily as you fell asleep in his arms, wondering how the two of you hadn’t thought of this sooner.

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