#rose bursting into his room at 2am: actually i really do want to talk about it

[arminsumi]

can i get an eager, inexperienced gojo? he is probably so silly and loving during sexy time but he still acts like a horndog, not sure where to touch, kinda nerv but tryna cover it up bc he’s the strongest sorcerer, ofc he’s been with so many ladies before!!!! (he hasn’t but he doesn’t want YOU to know that)

love your works as always stay safe💗💗💗

AIN'T NEVER DID THIS BEFORE, NO.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟

NOTE: this made me think of that j. cole song so i looped it while writing all 2.3k of this fic 🥴 i hope u like what i did!! mwaaa smooches!! hope ur well <3

🔞 mdni / 18+ content

SUMMARY — Gojo's saved up his virginity ever since he met you, savoring every wet dream through the years until he finally got the real thing in a hotel room in Okinawa.

WARNINGS — fem reader, n.sfw content, profanity, pre-established relationship

SMUT WARNINGS — virginity loss, light dirty talk, nicknames (good girl, sweet girl, daddy), Gojo's so nervous and inexperienced wheee😩💗, protected sex/condoms used, multiple rounds (2), kitty eating, giving him head, fluffy ending scene, lmk if i have missed smth and pls overlook errors i'm slepy asf it's 2am

Wordcount ≈ 2.3k

Playme ♪ wet dreamz

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

You can’t miss the way his Addam’s apple shifts up and down when he swallows, or the way he gawks when you wiggle out of your clothes and toss them off the side of the hotel bed.

Where are my hands supposed to go?

He’s thinking that while haphazardly squeezing a large handful of your hips and hotly kissing your neck.

This has been his long-anticipated dream come true… see, Gojo Satoru met you in high school. And the first thing he thought to himself was I want her to take my virginity. So, he had promised himself that one day, when he was older, he was gonna give it to you.

All his cheeky flirting and dirty jokes got him here, in this room of some dreadfully expensive hotel in Okinawa. Yes, he’s cheesy, as cheesy as he was when he used to lean over his desk during high school to whisper dumb pickup lines into your ear; he requested rose petals and wine. He had the lights dimmed. He laid you down with kisses right on top of those strewn petals.

Crazed, feverish, eager, overwhelmed; he was bursting with a bunch of feelings – predominantly horniness. He’s always had that horny twang about him, he was unashamed about it around you – it’s what got you hot for him in the first place, the fact that he was so bold with his dirty jokes and naughty hints.

But now he’s struggling to find his words. Now that smart mouth is sparsely throwing out witty remarks. Now he was heavily relying on comedy to ease his nervousness and mask his inexperienced movements.

He let you roll on top and savored each kiss that you pressed down his chest – heaving, he was heaving and hot already and all the two of you had done so far was romantic French kissing and tentative touches across each other’s bare skin.

The heat of your flushed cheeks seared his lower abdomen.

How low is she gonna go – oh my god what do I do – play it cool – oh my god is she actually – wow this is really happening.

Such a mess of goofy thoughts passed through his mind when you pressed a testing kiss to his glistening cockhead. Giving the slit a lick made his shoulders scrunch up, and his voice shook a bit, “Shit, baby, you don’t have to do that if you don’t w – want to… oh fuck…”

“But I’ve wanted to suck it so bad, I’ve thought about it so much.” You batted your eyes at him.

His stomach flipped.

“O-okay… ” he breathed. In the back of his mind, he was self-conscious about sounding like a virgin… because he totally was. And he wasn’t masking it very well when you started kissing and licking on his cock.

Feling your tongue swirl circles around his bulbous head, then swiping the underside, nearly made him bust right there. It took every bit of this strong boy’s strength to hold it in. And there was a lot to hold in.

“Oh that’s so fucking good.” He moaned.

You lowered your lips down his slickened cock, the warmth and texture of it delighting your tongue. Taking in his scent, his taste, his sounds – when you hollowed out your cheeks and suctioned your lips around him, he let out an uneasy moan. He was really gonna bust right there in your mouth if he didn’t tell you to ease up.

“B-baby, you’re so good at that – but – but fuckkk – slow down f’me…” he pleaded, big hand coming to the back of your head as you slid off his cock – that also almost made him bust. Oh god, you unknowingly edged him. Maybe you knew that, because you giggled at the way his cock jumped and visibly twitched after popping your lips off of it.

“Sorry, you good?” you asked him sweetly. He looked at you through lust-glazed eyes, his lower lip glistening with a bit of drool.

“ ‘m okay – fuck come here and get on your back. ‘Wanna do that to you too.” He commanded you, eagerly shuffling positions.

He lowered his face between your legs, marvelling at the shiny wet sheen smeared across your inner thigh. A thin web of juice connected from your hole.

“Sorry, I know it’s rude to stare.” He chuckled, joking to lighten his nerves. But earning a laugh from you made his heart flutter before he dove right into it – now here’s where you realized something.

He was inexperienced. Totally. Sweetly so. His tongue flicked and darted around, swiping along your slit, gathering your juices like he was thirsty. The way he licked you up felt like he was some college boy giving his crush head in a lucid dream.

But if there’s one thing you know about Gojo Satoru, it’s that he can do anything he tries. You started out giggling and squirming on his face, and ended up squealing his name and arching your back. Switching between suckling at your clit and lapping at your folds and slipping his buttery tongue into your hole – he was having fun figuring it out.

And my god, he had the biggest, smuggest, most smackable grin on his face when he made you cum.

“W-wipe that grin off your face.” You panted, half-dazed from your orgasm.

His grin only grew wider. Now he was feeling a bit cocky, a little high on a sugar rush of confidence because he just made the girl of his dreams cum from a little amateur tongue-fucking.

“You musta really wanted it bad, huh?” he teased, crawling up to meet your face and pressing a few wet, sloppy kisses to your awaiting lips. You could taste yourself, and he was conscious of that – and it made him almost bust on your tummy. You felt his cock jumping and twitching and throbbing against your skin.

“Don’t get all smug now…” you muttered.

His plumped, flushed lips hovered over your face. “Thanks for the meal.” He whispered jokingly, wiping your juice off his cheek with his thumb and suckling it off.

“Hahaha what!” you broke out laughing. “You’re ridiculous!”

He ran his tongue over his lips to tease you, “Tasted better than in my dreams.”

Now that made you flush hotter underneath him. Because for some reason, it hadn’t occurred to you that he had wet dreams of you. But he did. And he was too embarrassed to admit the number – it was big. He dreamed of you a lot. Especially taking you from the back… so naturally

“Turn around f’me, please?” he asked, “I wanna see you from the back.”

Your lack of hesitation to switch positions for him made his heart thump.

“Good girl…” he muttered under his breath, unsure of how you’d take the nickname. But hearing your giggly hum and seeing your hips wiggle up to his pelvis reassured him that you liked it.

So he engulfed you from behind, “You like that?” he whispered into your ear, big hand smoothing over the curves of your body to get a good feel of it. “Want me to call you a good girl?”

You nodded into the plush pillow, “Yes please. I like it.” You mumbled into the fabric.

“Can’t hear you, speak up.” He smiled against the shell of your ear teasingly. “Daddy’s hard of hearing.” He joked.

You rolled your eyes at his dumb goofiness. For some reason you thought it would switch off in the bedroom, but no – he was just as much as a dumb good in and out of bed.

“ ‘call me your good girl, please. I like it.”

His cock twitched. He’d started rubbing and pressing his cock into you from the back. The way your thighs and plush little pussy hugged him was better than any dream – lucid or not. And he’s had a lot of lucid wet dreams of you. Of this, specifically; taking you from behind. In his dreams, he’s pounding into you so good that you cream and cream and cream all over him. He just hopes he can actually achieve that in reality.

When he lowers his hands and fists his cock a bit before running the head between your folds, a pang of nervousness strikes his chest. That feeling came over him – that realization that oh, I’m gonna have my first time.

“So pretty…” he compliments, one hand soothingly caressing around your pussy.

To you, it almost feels like he might have done this before – you’re not sure – with the way he lightly smacks his cock on your hole, and the way he tests your smallness by slipping his tip in and out, you think he’s probably got at least a bit of experience under his belt.

But no. No, not at all. Not even a little bit. In fact, before you, he only kissed two people – and the first didn’t count to him because he hated it, and the second also didn’t count apparently because he was just practicing with Suguru in anticipation of kissing you one day.

“Fuck me…” he hissed through his gritted teeth when he finally sunk more than his tip through your hole.

“Fucking didn’t expect it to feel this good…” he thought out loud. “Might bust right here… fuck.” He blurted, then proceeded to boyishly blush.

Little hole squeezing on his virgin cock, hips wiggling back to meet his pelvis and take him deeper, you pawed behind you to feel him. “Baby, I-I gotta tell you something.” He begins embarrassedly, the nervous twang in his voice is so unfamiliar that you look back at him. “I’ve never done this before…” after he said that he sucked in a breath through his teeth at the feeling of your hole tightening and untightening.

You blink at him, and he’s worried for a split second before you smile sheepishly and tell him that he’s your first, too. Well, that little fun fact is what made him snap his hips against your ass and start fucking into you like he was some sort of crazed animal. He felt dizzied with the rush of pleasure, so stirred by the feeling of your pussy sucking his cock – there was no comparable thing in the world to him right then. He was definitely gonna become a sex-crazed fiend after this night, he thought. Absolutely. How could he not?

“S’toruuu – right there right there!” you cried out his name with such a pretty, strained voice that it made him want to tell you he loves you.

“Here? You like it here?” he hit that spot harder and harder, the squelching sound so dirty that you almost felt ashamed for a second. “My good girl gonna cum like this? Yeah? F-fuck t-t-tell me when you’re close ‘cause I’m close – really fucking close – fuck fuck fuck ahhh ‘gonna cum!”

He’s driving into that sweet spot while he cums, spilling a warm creamy mess into the condom – completely falling to pieces. Gojo’s always been inclined to obsessing over things, and he knows right then – when he cums with your quivering pussy sucking him in – that he’s gonna be obsessing over sex with you after this.

“Keep goinggg ‘m gonna cum too, please!” you whimpered from underneath him. He heard you, he was attentive even though he was panting and dazed. His thrusts got sloppy and he weighted on your body more heavily, you could feel his heartbeat.

“Good girl – g-good girl, rub your pretty clit. Want me to do it for you? M’kay sweet thing, lemme get you there – ah yeah? That feel good? You like daddy’s fingers toying with this pretty pussy? Oh fuck you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” he breathed all that into your ear and it absolutely destroyed you, especially with how those intense blue eyes piercingly stared down at you from behind.

“Get that relief, pretty girl – cum all over me. Fuck, there we go – oh wow…” he hit another sweet spot, feeling you gush and writhe under his imposing frame got him close again. “Fuck, baby – just a second, j-just a second ‘m gonna get ‘nother condom, n-need to fucking cum in that pussy again.” He pulled out quick, fingers struggling to free his cock of his already filled lil’ rubber. Squeezing into another one was one of the fastest yet most frustrating things he’s done in a while – oh, you just know that he’s gonna ditch the condoms as soon as you give him the green light to do so. Patience, he thought. He’s gonna need patience and a lot of rubbers.

“Ah fuck me! Satoru!” you arched your back when he re-entered.

“ ‘m gonna cum again, baby – fuck – s-sorry is it too much?” he breathed into your neck. Sweat beaded down his torso, down his thighs – both your bodies pricked with just enough sweat to make it erotically uncomfortable.

You barely managed to tell him that it wasn’t too much because of the way he was sloppily hitting his cockhead into your pussy. Feverish, dazed, pussy-drunk and love-drunk, you felt his hot lips nibbling at your shoulder, then he unexpectedly sank his teeth into your skin. It wasn’t sore, but those canines were a bit sharp.

Muffled moans on your skin sent a shiver down your back, one that travelled to your ass and thighs.

Rolling off to the side, panting and laying exhausted and unmoving.

“Fuck.” He muttered as if to say that was mind-blowing.

“Fuck.” You agreed.

“And ya didn’t even tell me you were a virgin!”

“You didn’t tell me, either!” you giggled, rolling into his embrace.

“But it’s hot if the girl is a virgin!”

You laughed with him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

He stayed silent for a little while, pulling you closer and caressing your shoulder. The two of you stared up at the ceiling.

“It’s embarrassing.” He admitted. “There was a time I wanted to lose my virginity just so that when I finally got to you, I’d be able to please you better. But I’m glad I waited…”

“Mmm really?” you hummed, he felt your smile print on his chest.

“…yeah.” You could hear his little smile in his voice. “I’m glad I gave it to you.”

#♥️ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 #🔞 #mdni #smut #gojo #gojo smut #satoru #satoru smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo x fem reader #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #tw: smut #virgin gojo #is that even a tag who knows #hey u i see u there #did u read all my tags thats so koot here is a cookie 🍪

[pencilscratchins]

don’t fucking look at me dude, i TOLD youse i’m a lesbian! [ID in alt text]

#rey star wars #rey skywalker #star wars #rey #star wars the sequel trilogy #art #my art #my fan art #fan art #the butchification of rey #I WARNED YOU I WAS GONNA MAKE REY BUTCH #AND NOW SHES TOO POWERFUL #i drew this and was like ‘oh i am gay’ #finn: hey did you see rey cut her hair? looks pretty good haha #rose: i don’t want to talk about it #rose bursting into his room at 2am: actually i really do want to talk about it

[the-everlasting-dream]

The Revelation, Chapter 13 - TRR AU

Summary: Liam’s turned up on her doorstep but is Elizabeth ready to face the past? 

A/N: Yes another update, I’m sorry it took so long, I’ve been all over the place. For real though I’ve been running out of steam for this story and I’m glad its finally winding down. Sorry for the mistakes I posted this at 2am at the risk of @ooo-barff-ooo kicking my ass. 

Tamil is used and translated in [brackets] - used google translate coz i’ve slipped ugh. Thanks to 4-20marg for help with the greek. 

Word Count: 4280 - pretty short in comparison. 

Warnings: Slight psychological distress,

SERIES MASTERLIST

Elizabeth stood shell shocked in the open doorway of her brother’s apartment, unable to move as she openly gaped at the person on the other side of the threshold. 

‘Umm.. Elizabeth?’ Liam, the King of Cordonia stood before her, his tall form filling up most of the doorway as he stared down at her. ‘Is…Have I come at a bad time..?’ 

The hesitancy and concern in his voice as his blue eyes travelled up her dishevelled form was enough to snap her out of her trance. 

 ‘No, no, nonsense. Its fine!’ she burst out nervously, frantically trying to smoothen down her hair as she stepped aside. ‘Come in, please!’ 

She hurriedly ushered him in, sneaking a glance in the mirror and hurriedly trying to pull herself together, catching sight of herself in the hallway mirror and rubbing at the faint mascara tracks staining her cheeks. 

‘Tea?’ Elizabeth asked, painfully aware that her voice was too loud and squeaky. 

Liam had barely nodded when she swept into the kitchen, eager to put some distance between the. She’d been knocked completely off kilter by his sudden appearance and, sneaking a glance at his tall figure as he perused her brother’s book collection, wracked her brain as to what could have possessed him to turn up so unexpectedly.

After putting the kettle on, she hesitantly took a seat on the armchair opposite Liam. Elizabeth took a moment to really take him in. The king, the man who was the real reason she ever left New York in the first place. Liam could make any outfit look good, currently a simple polo and jeans, she’d never seen him so casual and decided she liked this look on him. Seated on Theo’s beat up recliner, he retained a dignified but relaxed pose, completely different to herself, perched on the edge of her chair, ready to take flight at the smallest of scares. His blonde hair weaved with threads of gold that caught on the light from the setting sun filtering through the living room window, like a lionhearted angel. His lips curved up in the tiniest smile as he let her take him in for a long moment. 

‘So…,’ Elizabeth began awkwardly, realizing she'd been staring too long. ‘How’s Cordonia and the uh... kingly… stuff?’ 

‘Cordonia’s good,’ Liam replied casually and if he felt the tension between them, he did not show it. ’Things are settling down after Anton’s capture and we’re finally getting back on our feet.’ 

’That… that’s good to hear,’ she said, surprised to find herself actually meaning it. There was a long pause during which she fought to keep her eyes trained on her chipped nail polish of her bare toes before finally finding her voice again. When she spoke, her tone was soft almost as if she was holding broken glass. 

‘Have you come to bring me back?’   

Liam’s eyes softened. ‘Elizabeth… you know I wouldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to.’ 

 The words struck a chord in her, especially after with the memory Robbie and what he’d almost done. Her eyes reflexively began to fill with tears and she sniffed loudly, feeling embarrassed at her stupid face for giving everything away.  

Liam must have picked up on the sudden change as his brows furrowed and he began to speak. ‘Elizabeth… did something ha-.’ 

He was cut off by the loud whistling of the water boiling and she shot to her feet, almost too fast and sped into the kitchen, glad for the distraction. Her hands quivered a little as she prepared the beverage and she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry. 

By the time, the tea was ready, her hands had stopped shaking enough to hand Liam the teacup without spilling it. As Elizabeth watched him take an appreciative sip, her mind raced. Her memories had reappeared in fragments over the last few weeks and she’d pushed them out of her mind, resigning herself to the fact that she was her old life and this was her new one, trying to convince herself that it was well in the past. She would have probably succeeded too if Liam hadn’t appeared on her doorstep like he did. Now that he was standing here, everything suddenly seemed so real, like his very presence was a slap in the face with the past. 

 ‘So you-‘ ‘

I gu-‘ 

They both started to talk at the same time and cut themselves off, laughing awkwardly. 

 ‘You first,’ Liam insisted and Elizabeth gulped, prepared herself to ask him… Wait what was she going to ask him? They were interrupted yet again but the slam of the front door and her brother Theo entering the living room. He stopped short when he spotted Liam, who rose to his feet and stuck out his hand in a gesture of friendship. 

‘You must be Theodore, Elizabeth’s older brother. I'm Liam.' 

'Yeah I know who you are,’ her brother replied icily, not moving to shake his hand, casting a questioning look at her.   

'Theo its fine,’ Elizabeth placated. ‘He’s just here to talk.' 

He gave her a doubtful look but eventually conceded, casting Liam a suspicious glare. 'I'll be in my room Aish if you need me.'

’Sorry about that,’ she began. 

’No its fine really,’ Liam put in. ‘He seems nice and I’m sure-‘ 

'Liam why are you here?’ Elizabeth burst out, unable to contain herself. 'Really? If its not to come take me back, what made you come here? I’m sure you wouldn’t put off running a country just to see how I was doing…' 

He ran a hand through his light hair, searching for the words. ‘You’re right…  Cordonia’s not the same. None of our friends are the same and... ’ His blue eyes bored into hers. ‘I know I said I wouldn’t force you to come back but… We…I miss you Liz.' 

‘Liam… I…’ Elizabeth was lost for words, even more confused than ever. This was the first time she could remember him ever calling her Liz.. Her nickname sounded different, almost intimate when he said it and she… didn’t know what to do with that feeling. 'What I did Liam… that kiss… I was very confused… and its hardly the right time.. I don’t.. I don’t know if I can give you what you’re asking...' 

‘I know. I just hoped… ,’ he hung his head, letting the silence stretch for a few moments before interrupting what a humourless chuckle. ‘You’d think I’d have learnt from the first time right..?’ 

‘Liam…’ Elizabeth sank to her knees before him, lacing a hand through his, attempting to do… what exactly? ‘I mean I could try… You could train me..and-and…’ And what? Her voice wobbled with uncertainty and Liam immediately picked up on this.

‘No Elizabeth...,’ he waved her off, the sadness in his voice cut her to the core. ‘I couldn’t ask you to do that... It wouldn't be right for me to... to take advantage of you in your current frame of mind. The crown and I are one, marrying me comes at a cost. You’d never get just me.' 

‘Liam I’m sorry,’ she reached a hand up to touch his face, knowing in her heart this was for the best. 

That didn’t make it didn’t hurt any less. Liam’s eyes told her he felt the same too. This feeling right now, this pain in her chest hurt was different to than anything she’d ever experienced. To have to turn down this amazing man, a king… for the second time.. Cruelty wouldn’t even begin to cover it. 

‘I wish…' 

‘Me too,’ he admitted, covering her hand with his. 'Elizabeth…. If it were not for the mantle of king on my shoulders-’ 

‘No,’ she returned, renewed fervour in her voice. ‘You’re a great king and you’re going to do fantastic things in your reign. You deserve someone who understands you and can appreciate you for the amazing man you are... I promise when you meet her, she’s going to show you why it never was going to be me anyway.’ 

They exchanged sad watery smiles before Elizabeth clasped him in a hug. ‘I’ll always love you Liam,’ she told him, head leaning on his chest.’ ...just not in the way that you need me to.’ His blue eyes settled on her, less turbulent than before and she heard him whisper something in Greek.  ‘ Αν δεν μπορώ να σε αγαπήσω ως εραστής, θα σ'αγαπάω ως φίλος.’

  'I-I don't... '

Liam sighed forlornly, not quite meeting her eyes as he translated. ‘If I can’t love you as a lover, I will love you as a friend.' 

'Oh Liam.' Elizabeth hugged him tighter, feeling his hands come up to caress her back and they stayed like that for a long moment. Eventually he released her and she felt to loss of warmth from where his arms had been. 

 ‘I should go.’ 

It wasn’t a question, rather a statement, something they both knew to be true. They had said all they needed to and prolonging their time together would only do more harm than good. Nodding, she released him wiping the moisture that had spilt down her face. 

 ‘You travelled a long way. A-are you sure?’ 

Liam nodded, settling his hands on hers. ‘There will always be a place for you in Cordonia, should you choose to take it. You told me once to live everyday to the fullest because we only have one chance at life and you wanted make yours mean something. Either way I know you’re going to do amazing things with your life Elizabeth Richmond.’ 

It was her turn to nod. 

Liam paused in the doorway. ‘Do me one last favour? Give Hana and Maxwell a call. They’ll be glad to hear from you. In fact I’m surprised Maxwell hasn’t flown over already.’ 

Elizabeth nodded, smiling a little at the memory of her friends, Hana’s soft features and Maxwell’s bright smile floating into her head. 

‘I will.’ 

‘Goodbye Elizabeth.’ 

‘Goodbye Liam.’ 

 With one last glance back at her, the king of Cordonia left her alone in the foyer, wondering if she’d made the same mistake a second time. 

 -

Tugging nervously at her hair, Elizabeth could not stop herself from fidgeting in her seat as the dial tone echoed through the living room. It had taken her a few days to work up the courage to finally doing it but after sending an impulsive text to Maxwell, she’d been inundated with emojis and gifs and roped into a Skype session. She was contemplating abandoning the entire idea and holing herself up in her room for the rest of the day when-  

‘LITTLE BLOSSOM!!’ Maxwell’s face appeared on the screen before the camera seemed to zoom in on his face suddenly. ‘I missed you! I mean we missed you! I’m just so happy I’m could hug you through the laptop. Can’t you feel it Elizabeth? Can you?!’ 

Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him actually attempting to hug the device. He was exactly like what she remembered. ‘I feel it Maxwell.’ 

‘Hey Elizabeth,’ Hana sidled into the frame, a shy smile on her lips. ‘Its good to see you.’ 

‘Likewise Hana. I’ve missed you two,’ she couldn’t hide the relief in her voice. 

‘Don’t forget this little guy!’ A wiggling bundle became visible on the screen. ‘Cooper, look thats your mum. Say hi Cooper!’ 

‘I have a corgi?’ 

‘You don’t just have a corgi Elizabeth,’ Maxwell answered looking momentarily horrified. ‘You’ve got the cutest, fluffiest, wiggliest corgi in all of Cordonia!’ He then proceed to shower the dog with a barrage of kisses. 

 ‘How's New York?’ Hana asked. 

 ‘New York is good... I’ve been spending a lot of time with my family which is nice. Especially since we weren’t on such good terms before. It's been nice to just relax and reconnect with everyone, almost like I’d never left..’ She trailed off, feeling strangely guilty for admitting that out loud as Hana nodded sympathetically on the screen. ‘How’s Cordonia?' 

‘Terrible! Its all doom and gloom here,’ Maxwell wailed. 'Liam’s been super busy trying to pull the country together with all these boring balls and functions. Bertrand’s been more uptight than ever — he won’t even let me do my famous party trick! I haven’t cut open a champagne bottle in weeks! Elizabeth say you’re coming back soon,’ he pleaded. ‘I need my partner in crime back!’ 

‘Uhh…’ 

 After Liam’s visit she’d been more confused than ever with memories returning in uncontrollable jumbled waves, leaving her exhausted and bewildered each time they appeared. There seemed to be no chronology to it and every time she attempted to arrange them into some sort of timeline, the effort to focus alone drained her mental energy. 

‘She will be back when she’s ready Maxwell,’ Hana put in firmly, noticing her discomfort. ‘And whenever that is we’ll be waiting for her with open arms.’ 

‘I guess you’re right,’ he agreed. ‘But please don’t take too long Liz, I don’t know how long I can fool the guards into letting me camp out in the airport.’ 

Elizabeth nodded vaguely, her mind somewhere else as she tried to muster up the courage to ask the question she’d been so apprehensive about.

‘How’s…how’s Drake?’ 

 On screen, Maxwell and Hana exchanged a knowing look before turning back to her. 

 ‘Liz….’ Something in Hana’s voice made her throat constrict a little and immediately she knew something wasn’t right.

 ‘Hana what happened?’ Elizabeth insisted, her voice shriller as she sat forward in her seat, stomach tangling into tighter knots. Her hands clenched together in anticipation, watching her friend sigh before answering. 

 ‘Elizabeth…' 

‘Hana just tell me. I promise I won’t freak out… I just… I just need to know if he’s okay.’ 

 The other woman swallowed thickly, her face crumpling as she spoke. ‘About a week ago Lord Neville challenged Drake to a duel, the first one Cordonia’s had in over a hundred years. Drake was in a bad place before it but he managed to win in the end, but Neville… he hit him hard and after the duel Drake passed out...  They took him to the hospital right after that and the doctors managed to stitch him up but the wound got infected... He’s been in hospital ever since.’ 

Tears had welled up in Elizabeth’s eyes as her friend related the incident to her. The guilt that had been simmering in the pit of her stomach bubbled over now and she hung her head in her hands. ‘How is he now?’ 

‘Liz…’ Maxwell’s voice was full of concern and empathy but she ignored him. 

 ‘I asked you a question Hana.’ It was like she was hearing herself talk through a tunnel. 'How is he now?' 

‘They managed to get the infection under control but I-We’ve never seen him this bad before… It takes a hard hit to knock Drake off his feet but… he’s down and it doesn’t look like he’s getting back up any time soon.’ 

 Each word that came out of her friend’s mouth stung like a snap of a whip to her skin. Her feelings towards Drake were… complicated at best from the conflicting memories that fogged up her head but Elizabeth knew one thing: She needed to see him. She’d left in the worst possible way and now if he was hurting, it was her fault. She needed to fix this.

-

‘You’re going where?’ 

Elizabeth faced her mother in their kitchen, both woman locked in a tense standoff. ‘I told you Amma. I’m going back to Cordonia and nothing you say is going to stop me.' 

‘Aishwarya you can’t just up and leave like this!’ Chanaya Richmond eyed her daughter indignantly. ‘இல்லை [No] I refuse. I will not have it. நீ போகவில்லை [You’re not going]. Give me your passport.’ 

Elizabeth held the document out of her mother’s reach. ‘I don’t care Amma. Its not up to you. I’m going and that’s final.' 

Rhea stepped in, having heard her daughter and granddaughter from their living room. ‘Chanaya போதும்! [enough] She’s a grown woman, not a little girl. She can decide for herself.' 

 ‘The last time she decided that she ended up on our doorstep with brain damage Amma. What if they hurt her again? I won’t have my daughter ridiculed and ruined on every newspaper front page! Those Cambodians-‘ 

‘Cordonians.’ 

‘எதுவாக [Whatever] They are the reason you got hurt in the first place. And now you want to go back to the same people who let you fall off a cliff?!’ 

 ‘Amma ஓய்வெடுக்க —‘ 

‘Don’t you tell me to relax! You can’t prance off to some foreign country and ask our family to sit back with that knowledge and hold that anger in.' 

Elizabeth’s mother whirled back to her, pointing an accusatory finger back at her. 'Besides how are you going to fly huh? You had brain injury. Did you not hear the doctor Aishwarya? You still get headaches, nausea, fatigue. What if you have a seizure on the plane?!’ 

‘I’ll be fine,’ Elizabeth argued back stubbornly. ‘I managed on the way here, didn’t I?’ 

 ‘You ended up collapsing on our front porch, soaking wet from the rain! You slept for three days after that.’ 

’Last time was rushed but this time, if it makes you happy I will apply for the disability package,’ she shot back. 'They have special procedures like optional wheelchair assist. Pre-boarding, skipping lines. Besides the doctor has already cleared me for flying. He’s given me extra medication to prevent seizures and blood coagulation. I’ll be fine Amma,’ her tone was softer now as she approached her mother’s teary form. ‘I’ll be okay I promise.' 

‘Aishwarya why do you leave me?’ Chanaya wailed. ‘Don’t you know how much heartache you’ve cost your poor Amma? You got hurt so bad. I can’t see that happening to you again maa [dear].’ 

‘It will be different this time. I promise.’ Elizabeth soothed, gently embracing her mother. ‘I’ll call you every day I’m there Amma.’ 

‘Every morning and every night,’ her mother demanded, eyeing her steely. 

‘Promise.’

-

‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Cordonia International Airport. Please remain seated with your seat belt fastened until the Captain turns off the Fasten Seat Belt sign.' 

As the plane taxied to the gate, Elizabeth breathed a huge sigh of relief at the announcement, glad to have survived the long flight without any major incidents. Right now, in her mind, Cordonia represented everything that she had tried and failed to attain. She’d originally come to win the prince’s hand and the queenship and failed. She’d been bestowed the honour of duchess dom and had ultimately failed at executing her duties. She had found someone to marry for love and that had failed too. She’d come here looking for adventure but all she’d found was tragedy. This place had stolen a piece of her, her memories, her time that she wouldn't be able to get back. It had changed her as a person and she hadn’t decided whether that was a good or bad thing. She was still apprehensive about returning but in her heart she knew it was for the best.

Her mind however had been turning for the entire journey, with thoughts of Drake and what to expect when she went back. Was he okay? Would he be happy to see her? Or would he hate her entirely? Drake and her relationship with him (or lack thereof) was just one of the many things she was feeling that she didn’t know how to process. Perhaps it was the uncertainty of it all that made it worst. What if by some miracle he did want her back? Would she be able to give him what he needed? Or would they just crash and burn like they did the first time? She didn’t know if she was ready for a full on relationship after… The idea of being vulnerable and exposing herself to anyone at this stage seemed too much for Elizabeth to bear. 

In the long moments before the sleeping pills kicked in she wondered if this was just another huge mistake and if her mother was right: She shouldn’t have come back in the first place. After hours of ruminating on this, she’d come no closer to obtaining an answer and hesitantly allowing herself to be wheeled to the exit.

   Maxwell and Hana welcomed her with open arms as promised and for a long moment the three of them stood locked in a tightly embrace in the middle of the arrival hall. 

 ‘Oh little blossom, I’m so glad you’re back,’ Maxwell’s eyes shined with tears and if Elizabeth didn’t have ones of her own, she would have definitely teased him about it. 

 ‘C’mon,’ Hana urged. ‘Cooper’s waiting outside for you.’ 

As Elizabeth allowed herself to be lead away by her friends, a small part of the anxiety in her began to unwind. She’d missed the familiarity of it all and she smiled a little at how easy it was to fall into conversation with them again until they were all piled into the limo and speeding out of the parking lot. 

 ‘You must be tired from your flight,’ Hana began sympathetically.

 ‘Not as much as I thought I’d be actually,’ Elizabeth admitted. ‘I took something and it knocked me out for practically the whole thing. Where are we going again?’ 

‘We thought you’d need a rest and since its not visiting hours at the hospital yet, we thought you’d like to go back to Atlanta and get some rest..’ her friend trailed off, obviously trying gauging her reaction. 

‘That would make sense,’ she replied, trying to cover up her uncertain tone but the tension had already grown. 

 As Maxwell prattled on about the latest development in his hip-opera, obviously over the moon at her presence, that apprehensive feeling was back, sitting just behind her breastbone in a tight coil. 

When they reached the manor of her duchy, Elizabeth glanced up at the broad stone facade and tall towers that seemed to be looming over her in disdain. She felt herself shiver a little unable to shake the feeling off her. Standing here suddenly made everything more real and she knew she couldn’t back out now even if she wanted to. She was here. In Cordonia. And in a few hours she was about to lay eyes on the one man whom everyone assured, loved her most in the world. How had this been her life? Did she know what she was getting into when she came from New York with the Beaumonts that first time? Was this something she could come back to?

At Hana’s instruction, she attempted to take a nap, tossing and turning on the soft downy bed of the master bedroom, sleep evading her as all the previous thoughts plagued her mind again. Was Drake okay? Would he be happy to see her? Or would he hate her entirely? By the time she and Maxwell were pulling up at the hospital in the car, Elizabeth was a bundle of nerves. Suddenly every sensation was just too much and she wanted to shrink away from it all and just run, unable to fathom why it had been a good idea to come back here at all? Her avoidant thought processes were interrupted by Maxwell opening the door for her. 

 ‘You ready?’ A smile graced his features, smaller than it usually was but enough to elicit a hesitant one of her own. 

 Elizabeth gritted her teeth and nodded, quietly following him down the long pristine white corridors to where Drake’s room. With each step, the coil in her chest tightened and she was just about to turn tail and run when... she saw him.

It was just a quick glance through the viewing mirror of his hospital room but it was enough. He was lying in bed, covers drawn up around his waist, dressed in his familiar white t-shirt, gazing out of the window on the opposite side of the room, clearly unaware of her presence. But it was his expression and entire demeanour that really got to her. Hana was right… Never had she thought she’d see the day when Drake would look so completely and utterly… defeated. He was the first man to win a duel in over a hundred years, or so they told her. By all rights, he should have been celebrating. 

Seeing Drake again, with her own two eyes, reminded Elizabeth of how much he meant to her, of how much she still wanted him back. She knew she’d hidden from her memories, blocked them off on purpose in an attempt to silence them, hide them deep inside her, pretend that they’ve never existed but now when she was here and so was he, right her reach, his presence flooding her mind with all the memories she’d recovered. Elizabeth couldn’t stop thinking about the… possibilities each one held, in everything she remembered of him, she’d been happy. A real true happiness that she knew could never be replicated. Maybe if she couldn’t get him back, then maybe they could at least try to be friends? Because she’d rather have him as a best friend, right by her side then face the possibility of losing him forever again. 

That last thought was enough to calm her nerves enough to steady herself and prepare to afce the music. Her tension had not gone unnoticed as Maxwell sidled up to her. 

'You okay?’ 

 Elizabeth nodded and before she could lose her nerve, she placed her hand on the doorknob and turned the handle.   

-

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#drake walker #trr drake #drake x mc #drake x elizabeth #elizabeth richmond #the revelation fic #the revelation au #The Royal Romance #TRR AU #king Liam #trr liam #maxwell beaumont #trr maxwell #Hana Lee #trr hana #choices #playchoices #choices fandom #choices fanfiction

[spidey-dood]

Never Be Alone - Peter Parker x fem!reader

Summary: The one where Peter returns after turning to dust, and neither of you know how to handle it.

Warnings: Angst, death, sadness, one mention of somewhat shitty parents (it’s not a major plot point or anything, it’s just vaguely mentioned at one point). Also I was super tired when I edited this so consider yourself warned. 

Word Count: 5632

A/N: This is a long one, and I hate some parts but I’m also really happy with some parts?? I changed my writing style a bit and I like this one a lot more!! Feedback and requests are always welcome, and please tell me if you think I need to add anything to the warnings!! Oh also the timeline in this doesn’t match that of the MCU like, at all so plz don’t yell at me :)

Masterlist

All sources for the images used in this mood board have been reblogged to spidey-doodcreds :)

Falling in love with Peter had been easy.

You’d met when you were only fourteen, and after two long years of friendship, you realised you’d fallen in love with him, and he’d fallen in love with you. It was accidental, really; one day your hands brushed as you were walking down the hallway at school and you simply couldn’t ignore the spark that ignited in your veins. What you thought had been just a strong friendship quickly became a blossoming romance between the two of you, and neither of you cared to stop it. Everyone tried to tell you that you were too young for love –you were kids, for goodness sake- but you ignored them. With Peter you felt so alive –he made passion flow through your body and when you were with him it felt like you were in your own personal bubble, secluded from the rest of the world. You clung onto your little bubble for as long as you could –there wasn’t much that was capable of ruining it. Sure, there were things that you knew would be able to burst your perfect little bubble, but you were only worried about one of them.

Spider-Man.

You’d known about Spider-Man long before your romance with Peter, and you’d always been worried for him. There were several occasions on which you were patching up his broken body after a particularly gruesome fight. He knew you were anxious about the whole thing, and he hated worrying you, but both of you knew he had a responsibility and Spider-Man was here to stay. It’d been harder to accept that once you started dating. Peter had become more than just your best friend; he made you feel what no one else could. You couldn’t stand to think about living without his smile, or his laugh, or the way he wrapped his arms around you every single time he saw you, as if you hadn’t seen each other in months. Peter looked at you like you’d put the world in the palm of his hand, and you looked at him the same way. You found it hard to sleep knowing your boyfriend could be torn away from you at any moment. You didn’t want to hold your breath anymore, waiting for a text at 2am saying he was home and safe. His texts never did much to reassure you –your mind couldn’t rest until you saw him in the flesh at school the next morning. That was why Peter gave you the ring.

He’d asked you to go out with him one Saturday night, which surprised you since he was usually patrolling the city at that time. Hell, he was on patrol almost every night, with very few exceptions. Nevertheless, you’d agreed. He’d taken you to the roof of your apartment building where he’d set up a table decorated with flowers and candles. He’d ordered takeout for dinner, considering he couldn’t cook a meal to save his life, which made you laugh. It wasn’t the nicest place, considering it was a roof of a cheap apartment building in New York City, but you loved it. You’d sat down for dinner and just talked –something you hadn’t done for ages because you’d just been so busy. What truly surprised you, however, was when he presented you with a ring.

“Don’t freak out –I’m not proposing”, he’d said upon noticing your expression. Yes, you loved Peter, and you could picture yourself marrying him one day, but not now –not when you were still kids. You couldn’t help but be relieved when he assured you he was not proposing marriage.

“It’s a promise ring”, he’d gone on to explain, “and I know these things are meant to promise that I’ll marry you one day, but that’s not what this is.”

You were slightly taken aback by the ring. How Peter had been able to afford this was beyond you. It was a thin silver band with the tiniest diamond set in the centre. On the inner part of the ring he’d gotten a tiny little P engraved into the silver. The gesture made tears sprout in your eyes, which you desperately tried to hold back as he continued to speak.

“I know the Spider-Man thing worries you, and I hate that. The last thing I would ever want to do is cause you fear, or worry, or anything bad. So this –this is my promise to you that I will always come back. That, even when we are apart, you’ll never be alone, and we will always be reunited again –even if it takes a while- I’ll always come back.”

By now you were full on sobbing. Peter truly was such a sweet, romantic boy and you loved that about him. As he’d slipped the ring onto your finger, you realised just how much you cherished this boy, and how he cherished you.

The ring was what helped you breathe easier when he was away, especially after he began working with the Avengers. He was away for longer periods, and you could see the severity of the fights from what was shown on the news, and yet as promised, he always came back. Peter was worried about leaving you on your own for days –sometimes weeks- at a time, and had insisted you reside at the Avengers tower and get some self-defence training from the one and only Natasha Romanov. She taught you how to throw a mean punch, and even began to extend your training to much more advanced things after seeing how quickly you picked it up. Everyone was convinced you were good enough to one day become one of the Avengers, which Peter most definitely did not approve of. He’d asked the Avengers to help keep you safe, and putting you on the battlefield was quite the opposite. Still, he was glad you were friends with the Avengers –it made him feel safer knowing you had a whole team of people ready to help at any time. Besides, he knew it would be a long time before you were actually good enough to fight in battle, and he didn’t have to worry about that just yet.

You two stayed at the tower often -your parents weren’t exactly around enough to notice your absence, and for the first time ever, you were thankful for that. You spent a lot of time hanging out in Peter’s room, just lying in his bed and talking as he played with your hair. Tony had instilled a curfew which meant you had to be in your own separate rooms by ten pm, but you managed to sneak a couple of nights in Peter’s room. Of course, Tony thought it was cute that you thought it was possible to sneak around behind his back, but he let it slip, knowing that you were young and in love, and who was he to dictate your young lives? He still enforced the rule for most of the time, though. Sure, he wanted you to be free but he didn’t want a teenage pregnancy on his hands. You had to bite your tongue when he brought this up, not wanting to let it slip that you and Peter had yet to actually do anything of that nature. Instead, you let Tony lecture you about the importance of having some separation between the two of you and also being safe if you truly insisted on going against his wishes. The conversation ended when he handed Peter a box of condoms and awkwardly left the room, proud of himself for getting the talk over and done with. You and Peter had exchanged amused looks, and the condoms were stashed away in his drawer and never opened. Neither of you wanted that right now, and you were perfectly happy with that. You enjoyed just lying with Peter as you talked about anything and everything. You’d admire how pretty his eyes were and he’d steal little kisses every now and then, and that was about as touchy feely as it got with you. You were absolutely infatuated with the boy, and your relationship only grew stronger with every passing day. He would leave every now and again for a mission, but you rested assured knowing he was always going to come back.

Until one day he didn’t.

It was the longest they’d ever been gone for, and the last thing you’d heard from Peter was when he called you saying things were getting intense and that he loved you. It’d been almost a week since then, and no-one was replying to your messages asking for assurance that they were okay. You tried to remain calm, though. Maybe they didn’t have service, or maybe the communications system was down. You fidgeted with the ring on your finger, spinning it around to calm yourself down. Peter had promised, and he’d never broken a promise before.

Then everyone started to disappear.

You had been at school, grabbing a text book from your locker when you heard screams coming from further down the hallway. At first you tried to dismiss it as your peers acting like idiots, but you’d already been so on edge from Peter’s absence that you simply had to investigate. You slammed your locker shut and ran down the hall, and that’s when you saw it. Your English teacher, Mr. Mack, turning to ash and fading into nothing. Your hand came up to your mouth in horror, trying to hold back the scream wanting to escape your lips. The first people who came to mind were Ned and MJ, who you desperately searched for as you ran to the cafeteria. As you ran, you could see more and more people turning to dust, causing more panicked screams to echo through the halls.

You reached your regular table, your heart dropping to your stomach when your friends were nowhere to be seen. You held your stomach as you stumbled away from the table, your vision going blurry in horror. Unable to hold it back anymore, you bent over a nearby trashcan, releasing the acidic bile that rose up your throat. You wiped your mouth, before running out of the school and straight to the Avengers’ tower. You rushed through the building, tears streaming down your face as you called out various names, your sobs only growing heavier when you received no response. Your phone rang, causing you to jump before you realised where the noise was coming from. Relief flooded over you as you read the name on the screen.

“Steve?”, you asked, your voice thick with panic.

“Y/N, thank god”, he breathed. He sounded exhausted, yet his voice held a frantic tone that made a pang of anxiety spread through your stomach.

“Steve, what happened?”, you asked. You heard him release a heavy sigh, making your heart ache for him. You knew just from the sound of his voice that he’d been fighting hard, yet he sounded so defeated. They couldn’t have lost, though, surely. The Avengers never lost, right?

“He won, Y/N”, he said. Your heart sank at his words as your bottom lip began to quiver. You tried not to cry, knowing you had to focus on making sure everyone was okay and the process would only be elongated if you allowed your emotions to get the best of you.

“W-what? Is everyone okay?”

“We’re coming home with those of us that are left. I haven’t heard from Tony or Peter, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

You held your phone to your chest, coughing out a sob that had managed to escape your throat. You brought the phone back up to your ear, “I’m gonna try to call them, stay safe, please.”

“Of course –we’ll see you soon”, Steve said, before you hung up and searched for Tony’s name in your contacts. You pressed on it, desperately awaiting an answer. Your frustration grew as the phone began to ring, eventually going to voicemail. You tried again, and again, and again, until you knew it was of no use. You couldn’t bring yourself to try Peter’s number, knowing you wouldn’t be able to handle him not answering. Instead, you fiddled with the ring round your finger, removing it and looking at the little engraving underneath. You tried to make yourself feel better. They were coming back, right?

But they didn’t come back.

Steve returned with the remaining members of the team. Your heart almost came up out of your throat when you saw Natasha was okay. You ran up to her, enclosing your arms around her and sobbing as she did the same. You wished you could have said it was a reunion full of relief and happiness, but it wasn’t. It was one of mourning and despair –none of you were the same, and yet you still had to try to work out how to fix this. You waited a few days for Tony and Peter to return. You tried to remain optimistic that they were going to come back; that they just needed a little longer than everyone else had. You spent those days waiting at the window, your hands busied with playing with your ring. Your heart stopped beating in your chest when you saw a car pull up to the building a few days later, a tired and run down Tony Stark emerging from the passenger side. You immediately ran downstairs, flinging the doors open and greeting him with a hug, tears streaming down both of your faces. You pulled back, looking into the backseat of the car, expecting to see Peter. You frowned when you didn’t see him.

“Peter?”, you asked, causing Tony’s eyes to fill with sadness. He shook his head, a frown etched on his face.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“W-what?”

“He didn’t make it.”

His words made your head spin. You had to rest your weight on Tony as you took it all in –you were hardly able to hear Tony apologising to you, muttering comforting words as he held you steady. You couldn’t believe it; Peter was not gone. He couldn’t be gone –he’d promised to you that he would always come back and you’d believed him. Peter couldn’t have been gone. It simply wasn’t possible.

You didn’t cry for the next few weeks. You sat in your room, staring into space, completely numb to your emotions. You were too tired to feel bad about not mourning for Peter, still in disbelief that he was gone. After the first month, your anger began to settle in. You grew angry at Peter for breaking his promise. A small part of you knew that it wasn’t his fault, but you chose to ignore it, focusing your energy on your anger so you wouldn’t have time to be sad. Being angry was easier than being sad. With sadness came this emptiness; this vulnerability that you just weren’t ready to expose yourself to. With anger, however, all you saw was red. It was easier to resent him than to acknowledge the emptiness you felt without him lying next to you, and so you took the ring off. You were in the shower when you looked down at it, a sudden wave of fury washing over you as hot angry tears fell down onto your cheeks, disappearing with the shower water. You yelled and screamed as you ripped the ring from your finger, throwing it as hard as you could towards the mirror, causing the glass to crack. You spent a long time sitting in the bottom of the shower, crying for the first time since Tony had come home. The hot water of the shower turned your skin red, but you couldn’t feel the burning of your skin. You couldn’t feel anything anymore.

Tony had gone into the bathroom after you’d retreated back to your room, where you spent almost all of your time. His heart broke when he found the ring abandoned on the bathroom floor, knowing what this was doing to you. Later that night he knocked on your door, offering you some dinner and placing the ring on your bedside table. You scowled at it, telling Tony you didn’t want the cursed jewellery anymore. You insisted that he get rid of it, and so he left with the ring in his hand and sadness in his heart.

You didn’t leave your room unless it was to use the bathroom or to have dinner. You showered a lot, just sitting in the bottom of the shower while zoning out. You felt so disconnected from your emotions, yet unbearably connected all at the same time. You didn’t cry anymore –you hardly even spoke. Despite the Avenger’s best attempts to communicate with you, it was impossible. You’d shut everyone out. All you wanted was Peter, and you wouldn’t be happy until you were with him. You knew Tony had been working with the team on how to bring everyone back, and a part of you wanted to believe they’d succeed, but you didn’t have the energy to be disappointed again. You couldn’t go through losing Peter for a second time, not to mention everyone else who’d been lost. Sometimes you felt bad, knowing that everyone had lost someone that day. It was selfish to act out this way when the Avengers were trying their best to work this out, but you had gotten yourself stuck in this pit and you couldn’t get yourself out.

It had been six months when Tony softly knocked on your door.

“Y/N?”, he asked, “can I come in?”

You hummed in response, telling him it was okay. He slowly opened the door, trying to ignore the state of your room. You insisted on sitting in the darkness –you’d pulled your curtains shut and your door remained closed. The air in your room was stale, and a number of empty water bottles littered the floor.

“Hey, kid”, he smiled grimly, “I just thought I’d let you know that we’re going out on a, um, mission.”

This grabbed your attention. You sat up, eyes wide as you turned on the lamp next to your bed, illuminating your face. Tony tried to ignore the dark bags resting under your eyes, and your matted mess of hair sticking up in all directions. Your eyes glossed over as you looked at him.

“W-what?”

“Yeah, so you’re going to be alone for a while, is that okay?”, he asked. Your mind flashed back to the last time you’d been in the tower alone, when you were running through the halls sobbing, screaming for someone to tell you they were okay. You pushed down your thoughts, and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be alright.”

“Good, good”, Tony nodded, “we shouldn’t be too long, and could you clean this room up, please?”

Had you been your usual self, you would have rolled your eyes at him, perhaps you’d have even made a snarky comment, but you weren’t your usual self. You were the shell of a once lively and bubbly girl, and all you could muster was a wordless nod before Tony closed the door, sealing you back into your dark pit of self-pity.

They’d been gone for a few hours before you sat up in your bed, restless and unable to sleep. You flicked on your lamp, taking in the sight of your room. Tony was right, it was a mess. Sighing, you picked up all of the empty bottles from the floor, before walking into the kitchen and dumping them all in the recycling bin. You returned to your room, opening your curtains for the first time in months, admiring the night sky. You even lit a scented candle, hoping to relieve yourself of the stench that lingered in your room. You had a shower, washing your body and hair and actually relaxing under the warm water. You felt lighter as you stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a towel and returning to your room.

You slept better that night. You had some hope that maybe you wouldn’t feel these awful feelings forever. For the first time in a long time, you felt like things were going to get better. When you woke up the next morning, you felt refreshed. Figuring everyone would have been home by now, you walked into the kitchen to get yourself some coffee. You hummed as you poured some milk into your mug, causing the dark brown liquid to turn a lighter beige colour. You turned around with your mug in your hand, only to be met with a sight you definitely weren’t expecting. Your mug fell from your hand, causing it to shatter as it collided with the floor. The hot beverage splashed on your feet, but you paid it no mind as you stared at the boy sitting at the table.

He looked exhausted. His eyes were droopy and he was staring off into space. His cereal in front of him was untouched, which made you frown. He’d always hated when his cereal went soggy. He was dressed in a large hoodie and some sweatpants, which made him look tiny as they swallowed his broken body. The sound of your mug hitting the floor made him jump. He looked over at you, his eyes widening when he realised it was you.

“Peter?”

His lips parted, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. A pained noise emitted from the back of his throat as he stood up, walking towards you. You backed away from him, your mind racing as you tried to process what was happening. He looked hurt by your retreating figure.

“Y/N”, he whispered, his voice croaky and quiet. He reached his arm out for you, but you pulled away, pushing past him and running into your bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you. You pressed your back against the door, your breathing uneven as your entire body began to shake. Slowly you sunk down onto the floor, sobs falling from your mouth as you curled up into a ball on the ground. It was only a few minutes before Tony was knocking on your door.

“Y/N, hey, can I come in please”, he asked, a gentle yet stern tone lining his words.

“No, go away”, you sniffled, glaring at the door, hoping he could feel it from the other side.

“C’mon, kid”, Tony said, “we need to talk.”

You stood up, pulling the door open and sending him a venomous look.

“We need to talk?”, you seethed, “are you kidding me? It would have been nice to have talked before I found out he was back, y’know? I can’t believe I was so stupid!”

You slammed the door in his face, leaving Tony in confusion as he sighed, knowing it was best to leave you alone. You heard a soft clang outside your door, and then footsteps.

Frustrated, you threw yourself down onto your bed, shoving your face in your pillow to muffle your cries. You should have felt better –Peter was back. Your boyfriend, the love of your life, the boy you’d been missing for half a year now. He was back, yet you’d never felt worse, and to think you’d been stupid enough to think that things were getting better. Was this the universe playing some sort of sick prank on you? What had you done to deserve this? You’d always thought that you’d celebrate if Peter ever miraculously returned, and now here he was –your miracle boy, and you’d run away. The boy you’d seen in the kitchen was not Peter Parker. Sure, he looked a lot like him, and he sounded like him, but that was not Peter. Peter was a bubbly boy with shining eyes and a smile that could rival the sun. This boy was a tired, empty person who let his cereal go soggy. It was not Peter.

You stayed in your room for as long as you could, only lasting a few hours before you had to pee. You tried to hold on for as long as possible, but you knew that at some point you would have to leave the comfort of your room. Reluctantly, you opened your door, stepping into the hallway as you kicked something with your foot. You looked down, confused, realising what it was that your foot had hit. It had slid halfway down the tiled hall, but you knew exactly what it was.

It was the ring. The ring that was meant to promise that Peter would always come back to you –that you would never be alone. Yet you had never felt more alone than you did right now. You had been without Peter for six months, thinking he was dead. At this point, you resented the stupid ring and Peter’s stupid promise. Your heart hadn’t just been broken; it had been ripped out of your chest and stomped on until it shattered into a million pieces, and it felt like it would never be put back together. The day you lost Peter was the day you lost a piece of yourself, so excuse you if you no longer believed in Peter’s dumb ring.

You scoffed, shoving the ring into your pocket and dashing to the bathroom, trying to remain unnoticed by everyone else –especially Tony and Peter. Thankfully you made it back to your room without seeing anyone. It only would have made things harder. You wanted to run back into Peter’s arms, to comfort him and tell him everything was okay, but it wasn’t. Nothing was okay. Peter had died and now he was back and you weren’t sure how to handle that yourself, let alone how to help him handle it. You couldn’t bring yourself to think about what he was feeling right now -you were able to imagine the thoughts running through his head and you knew thinking about it would be too much. Instead you distracted yourself by putting in your headphones and falling asleep to your music.

You managed to successfully avoid Peter for a while. You didn’t see him until two weeks after the first encounter in the kitchen.

It was late at night, and you weren’t able to sleep. Your mind was racing with a million thoughts and you just couldn’t seem to get them to quiet down. You gave up, pulling yourself out of bed and into the kitchen to get a glass of water. You were surprised to see Peter already sitting there with his own water.

“Oh, I’m sorry”, you said, turning back to leave. You cringed at how painfully awkward it was to see him. How was it that you were running away from the boy you’d been so in love with just months ago?

“Hey, wait, Y/N, talk to me, please”, Peter said, his voice full of pain as he pleaded for you to stay. You hesitated, before turning back to face him.

“What do you want me to say, Peter?”, you sighed, “That I’m glad you’re back? That I missed you? That I haven’t spent the last six months unable to feel anything? Or maybe that I still love you?  Let’s talk, Peter, about how you just came back from the dead and I didn’t even know until I found out for myself.”

He was shocked by your words as you breathed heavily, letting out all the emotions you had bottled up. He looked up at you with sorry eyes as you opened the fridge and grabbed a drink. You stood at the kitchen bench, not wanting to be any closer to the boy.

“Do you?”, he asked softly, as if he was scared to ask, and truthfully he was –Peter was absolutely petrified that you didn’t love him anymore, and so were you.

“What?”

“Do you still love me?”

His voice was so small –so vulnerable. You tried not to notice the crack in his voice as he tried not to cry. Your eyes filled with tears as you looked everywhere in the room but at him. You weren’t sure how to answer that question –you were in love with Peter, you had been in love with Peter for a long time now. You knew didn’t not love him, but you also weren’t sure that you did.

“I-I”, you stuttered, “I think so –I hope so.”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you with pain in his eyes. You wanted to hold his face and kiss him until the pain went away, to lay with him in his bed and whisper words of reassurance in his ear and to love him, but you couldn’t. A tear escaped from your eye, which you quickly wiped away. Peter had noticed it, though. He stood up and walked towards you, causing you to panic.

“Can we talk, please?”, he asked, his face full of desperation. You nodded, not wanting to hurt him more than you already had. He seemed relieved when you agreed, and led you to his room. He sat on his bed, cross legged while you timidly sat at the end. It felt like an eternity since you’d been in his room.

“What did it feel like?”, you suddenly blurted, surprising yourself, “to die, I mean.”

Peter shifted uncomfortably, his mouth twisting into a frown. You regretted asking the question as soon as the words had fallen from your mouth, but you hadn’t been able to stop them.

“It felt, wrong”, he said, eyes avoiding yours, “y’know how they say your whole life flashes before your eyes? Well, it was kinda like that –but like, I saw people. I saw Ned and MJ and Aunt May and Mr. Stark, and I saw you.”

He looked at you as a few stray tears fell onto your cheeks. You nodded at him, telling him to continue.

“It feels like you’re underwater, and everyone is walking around but you –you’re stuck in this pocket of air, and you’re drowning in it. It’s all backwards.  And you’re screaming but no one can hear you, no one sees you. It’s just you and you’re on your own in this bubble while everyone just goes on with their lives. They just keep walking around in the water like it’s nothing –like living is easy. And yeah, living seems easy, until you’re dying, y’know? Like, I was frozen and I couldn’t do anything and I was just stuck.”

You didn’t realise the loud sobs coming from your mouth until he looked back into your eyes. He carefully reached one of his hands out, grasping yours in attempt to comfort you. You let him pull you into a hug, and you realised he was crying too.

“I’m sorry”, you wept, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

You continued to apologise as he held the back of your head, playing with your hair which made you both feel better. You finally looked up at him, taking his face in your hands and looking desperately into his eyes.

“I know how you felt, Peter”, you said, “because that’s exactly how it felt to lose you.”

Peter’s face crumbled at your words. What had been relatively tame cries turned into loud, heaving sobs as he buried his face into your neck. You held him close to you, tangling your fingers in his hair while his hands gripped onto your waist as if his life depended on it. You’d only ever seen Peter cry like this once or twice, and it broke your heart every single time. This time was no exception –watching him fall apart in your arms made your heart ache. You wanted to rid this boy of all the pain he’d ever felt.

You placed your fingers under his chin, lifting his head up so he was looking at you.

“When I found out you were gone, my heart shattered into a million pieces”, you said, “I didn’t want to live in a world without you anymore, Peter –I couldn’t. I was so angry that you were gone, that you’d broken your promise. I was in so much pain for so long and when you came back, it felt like the universe was playing some sick prank on me.”

“When I saw you in the kitchen, you looked so happy”, he sniffled, “you walked in humming the tune of that song we always used to listen to and you weren’t wearing your ring and it was like you were happy without me, and I didn’t know what to think.”

His confession made you hold onto him tighter. You couldn’t believe you’d hurt him like this.

“God, no, Peter, it wasn’t like that at all. You make me the happiest girl in the world, and I’m so glad you’re back because I don’t think I’d have ever felt true happiness if you hadn’t come back. I realise now that it wasn’t the universe playing some sick prank on me, it was a blessing. You’re a blessing, Peter.”

“I love you so much”, he said, his voice cracking again as he offered you a soft smile, “and you don’t have to say it back bu-“

“I love you Peter, so very much”, you whispered, placing a soft kiss on his lips, “and this is my promise that I’m not going to leave your side –we’re going to get through this, together.”

You retrieved the ring from your pocket and handed it to him. Tears streamed down his face as he slid it onto your finger, pulling you close to him and planting a kiss on your forehead. By now you were lying down on his bed together, both exhausted from your emotions, which were all over the place. Peter held you close to him as your eyes drift closed.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #peter parker moodboard #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman imagine #spiderman moodboard #peter parker aesthetic #spiderman aesthetic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu

[skamelias]

HEAL

3.3 Onsdag 16.08.17 15.13

((( Look Into My Eyes - Outlandish )))

Elias flung himself onto the brown couch in his living room, closing his eyes in exhaustion. He’d just gotten home from a long basketball session with Yousef. He heard his parents’ voices drift in from the entryway. Abruptly, Elias’ mom whisked into the living room with some clothes in her arms and a large duffle bag on her shoulder. She hastily walked over to the table in the corner, handing a few clothes to his dad.

“Remind me we need to buy some food for them on the way there,” his mom said, her lips set in a grim line. She frantically paced from one end of the room to the other, listing off last minute tasks aloud. Elias could practically feel the tension radiating off of her.

Elias furrowed his brows in confusion. He swiftly rose from the couch as he said, “What’s wrong?”

Elias’ dad wrinkled his forehead, sighing before he placed his hands on his mom’s shoulders, massaging them gently in an attempt to get her to relax.

She groaned in frustration and answered, “It’s your aunt, she had another stroke. We’re going to Gjøvik to see her.”

Elias raised his brows. His aunt who lived in Gjøvik had always had trouble with her health for as long as he could remember. This wasn’t the first stroke she’d had in her lifetime. And it probably wouldn’t be the last. His heart ached at the thought of her in pain.

Elias’ dad whispered softly to his mom, “It’s okay. The doctor said it was okay,” trying to reassure her, to no avail.

She bit her lip as her forehead creased in worry. “How many times is she going to have these strokes before she starts actually listening to me and changes her diet?”

“You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped, okhti.”

Elias’ mom threw her hands up in frustration as she began pacing back and forth once again, ordering her husband to do the same. Elias snorted at he watched his dad walk around like a helpless puppy without any direction, following her frenzied steps.

Finally, when his mom decided they had everything and the rest they would do on the way there, they put on their jackets and strode towards the door. Elias’ mom put on the biggest smile she could muster, although he knew it didn't match her mood on the inside. She had always been an anxious person.

“Sana!” Elias’ mom called for her. Sana traipsed into the living room and hugged her parents goodbye.

Their mom opened the front door with her luggage in hand and looked back at her husband who was carrying two suitcases. Elias shook his head at the amount of bags they were taking, even though they were only going away for a few days. No doubt, his mom had packed most of it; she was known for over-packing.

Elias hugged his parents as his mom kissed him on the cheek. “Make sure to pray for your khalti, okay?” she said addressing both Sana and him.

Sana smiled softly and nodded. Elias gulped uneasily as he hesitantly nodded.

After they said their goodbyes, Elias slowly trudged inside his bathroom. He was about to perform wudu. He looked himself in the mirror, hardly recognizing his reflection. His eyes were framed with dark circles, his face a pale shade of light brown. It had been too long, he told himself. He remembered when he used to pray more than five times a day, completing the optional salahs as well. But during the final semester of his last year of school it became more of a rarity than a regularity. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had prayed. It had to have been a few weeks at the very least.

Elias wanted to pray for his aunt. He wanted to pray for guidance about Laila. But most of all, he wanted to pray for forgiveness. He sighed. But that was selfish. He couldn’t abstain from praying and then only pray when he needed something.

Elias’ brows knit into a frown as he shook his head at his idiocy. If he wasn’t going to pray for himself, he needed to pray for his aunt.

((( Heal - Tom Odell )))

He cleaned himself, his hands shaking slightly as he washed his face. As the water dripped down from the faucet in a steady burst, he felt his breath grow more shallow.

"I bear witness that there is no deity other than Allah alone; He is One; He has no partner and I bear witness that Muhammad is His servant and Messenger."

Finally, he turned the water off and made his way to his bedroom. He eyed the prayer rug that sat collecting dust on top of his dresser. He stiffened as he came to a realisation. What if after all this time he had forgotten what to say? He’d never abstained from praying for such a long period in his life. He felt an ache in his lower stomach at the mere thought of forgetting how to pray.

He hesitantly took out the prayer rug and placed it on the floor, positioning it in the direction of Mecca. He decided to do a sunnah prayer. His heart beat erratically and his chest filled with nerves. He stepped onto the mat, releasing a huge breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Suddenly, it all came back to him in a rush of familiarity. He closed his eyes, feeling a calm settle over him. He was delighted to know that he hadn’t actually forgotten how to pray.

He prostrated for the first time in the prayer, falling onto his knees as he bent his head low, touching the ground. Gradually, he felt a slight weight lift off his shoulders. He held himself in this position for a full minute, revelling in how content he felt in that moment.

As he lifted his head up from the ground, he rose into a sitting position, tucking his legs underneath him. His heart strained as he recited the verse to himself.

“Our Lord. Forgive us our sins and efface our bad deeds and take our souls in the company of the righteous.”

Elias repeated that same sentence in Arabic over and over until he felt significantly lighter. He felt a lump well up in his throat. A desperate need for release in the form of tears flooded through him, but none came out.

Unbidden thoughts flashed through his mind. His last year in high school, praying with Yousef at the mosque. Praying with his family at 2am during Ramadan a few years ago. The countless other times he had prayed in his life. An onset of nostalgia swept over him as he remembered how much he loved praying.

He prayed for his aunt. He prayed for Sana and Yousef. He prayed for guidance on Laila. And lastly, he prayed for forgiveness. Even though he knew he didn’t deserve it.

As he was about to finish his prayer, he heard Sana call out for him. After a few seconds she barged into his bedroom and stiffened as she saw him mid prayer. She muttered her apologies and quickly left his room.

Elias sighed at Sana’s disappearance. She was no doubt shocked to her core at seeing him pray again. He moved his head from one side to the other, expelling his breath and finished his prayer.

He grabbed hold of the prayer rug, feeling incredibly…different.

It was a good different.

He couldn’t quite explain it.

((( Love On The Brain - Rihanna )))

Elias walked out of his room and was met with a jubilant Sana beaming at him. Elias furrowed his brows and rubbed at the nape of his neck. “Sorry, uh, I was just praying,” he said hesitantly, not sure why he was even apologizing in the first place.

Sana nodded with a soft smile playing at the corner of her lips. Elias felt compelled to roll his eyes at her. She could at the very least try to hide her blatant happiness at seeing him praying. They never talked about it, but Elias knew that she was worried about him.

Sana motioned towards the kitchen and said, “I heated some food for us.”

She ambled away and Elias followed her. As they walked inside the kitchen, Elias gathered up plates and spoons for them. Elias looked back at Sana who was standing next to the fridge, blowing a strand of hair away from her face. She was peeling carrots, dragging the peeler toward herself, using her thumb to guide her.

They worked together in comfortable silence, moving around the kitchen, setting the table. Sana bit into a carrot, offering one to Elias. Elias smirked cheekily and winked before he said, “When have I ever said no to carrots?” He took a carrot from her and bit into it as he slumped down onto the chair beside Sana.

These were the moments Elias truly enjoyed with Sana. Usually they were bantering and pushing each other's buttons, but today, they simply sat together enjoying each other’s company.

Finally, Sana broke the silence. “You were with Yousef today right?”

“Yeah.”

“Did he...” she hesitated “....he didn’t seem down, right?”

Elias paused. He narrowed his eyes at Sana’s searching eyes. He thought back to a couple hours ago. Yousef’s mood hadn't seemed off. But then again, Elias wasn’t the most attentive guy in the world.

He shook his head as an answer and asked, “Why? What’s wrong?”

Sana sighed, frustration crinkling her eyes. “I talked to him about some worries I was having.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yeah…. I mean…. I spent so much time not talking things out with him. I’ve realized how important communication is.”

“But did he seem down when you talked?”

Sana huffed in annoyance. “No, He didn’t. He was really understanding.”

Elias furrowed his brows together in confusion. “Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that everything’s perfect when we’re together but as soon we’re not, I keep getting reminded of why we wouldn’t work.”

Elias sighed exasperatedly. You’d think she’d get tired of the constant back and forth, but apparently not. Elias had dealt with more than enough melodrama from both of them in the weeks before Yousef left for Turkey. He rubbed at his temples and said, “Why do you keep doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Making excuses. You and Yousef are, somewhat annoyingly, perfect for each other. Don’t think too much. Relax. Jeez,” he rolled his eyes and huffed at the ridiculousness of this conversation.

#skam #skamelias #elias bakkoush #sana bakkoush #simo el

[showingthroughtome]

spit fire - chapter nineteen

i saw you in the party, soft lips, soft spoken

“Normally, and you know this, I'm not on Farrah's side.” Molly shudders, laughing. “But you haven't been out once this semester and we're almost halfway through it. Even if Harry is the dick of the century, you shouldn't let him keep you in.”

“I don't.” From Noa’s perspective, that isn't the case. Not one bit.

“You do.” Farrah argues, picking up the dress Noa has since put on the chair by her desk, holding it back up towards her friend and adding, “It's kind of sad, really.”

Molly takes what Farrah says and tacks on a pout. “Do you want to make us sad, Noa?”

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Though, of course, Harry apologizes to her. He sends her text after text that following day. All of them are about how he's sorry for going behind her back without making sure it was okay with her first. Then, the following day at cheer practice, he surprises her in the supply closet and tries his hardest to have her truly hear his apology.

Though, of course, she doesn't. And that night, he sends her one more text saying he will never regret doing anything to make her less anxious - never, he emphasizes.

That was weeks ago now, and they haven't spoken at all since. His waves are ignored and his texts go unopened before she deletes them. Until eventually, those stop and they grow completely apart. February goes without any interaction. She cheers at his games and watches him score point after point, but she doesn't even acknowledge his existence.

It's not like it's easy for her or anything. She has spent more nights than she'll ever admit with tears in her eyes as she listens to the most emotional Drake songs there are. Once or twice, she's stays up until 2am looking at his dumb Instagram and wondering what the hell is going on in his everyday life.

Noa stops going to Sigma Kappa parties because she knows she'll see him there. There would be a possibility of hearing his laugh or catching his dimples or worst of all, seeing either of those being directed at someone that isn't her. So, on weekends she sits in and watches TV shows on Netflix. She's even cracked open textbooks a time or two.

During one weekend, she spent every waking hour planning a protest for the science labs to stop using frogs as play things. That following week, she spent three days sat outside the building with eleven other environmentally conscious students. She got shit for missing practice from all the members on the squad and the university head of the team but luckily, there weren't any games she missed and she rose awareness about the unnecessary frog deaths.

March Madness has begun quickly and in a whirlwind, the Springfield Wolves are in it to win it. They blaze through the first round with Harry as the star. Suddenly, national attention is on this British player and Noa almost shudders every time she happens to see his name on ESPN - she flips the channel as fast as she can but they play it on nearly every TV around campus.

After the second round, and a win by 27 points, every student is buzzing with the talks of “the party of the century” at SK. Noa on the other hand, cannot bring herself to care any less. She is sitting in her room after she got back to her room and took a long shower when a knock is heard at the door.

“Noa, get the fuck up.” Molly says after popping her head in and seeing Noa with wet hair and still wrapped in a towel. Farrah pushes Molly forward, through the door, and slowly begins shaking her head.

“I'm not going.” Noa declares sternly, adamantly.

Farrah doesn't stop shaking her head until she comes back just as certain with, “Yes. Yes, you are.”

“How many times do we have to talk you into having fun?” Molly closes the door behind them, shutting out the girls on the opposite side who are celebrating with a floor party. Walking to Noa’s wardrobe, Molly’s heels clack against the tile floor. “That’s all we do anymore.”

Noa watches her begin to swipe through all her clothes with the assistance of Farrah. She completely forgets the question until Molly stops mid swipe and raises her eyebrows at her.

“Um, well I don't think it will be fun.” Noa shrugs as a matter of fact, wringing her hands through her hair and onto the towel.

“You'd think it was fun if a certain meddling boy wasn't going to be there.” Farrah said, completely sure of herself with no hesitance to go there.

There was no use in denying it so Noa replies, “Maybe.”

Molly pulls out a black, strappy dress - simple but a tiny bit shiny so it isn't boring. It's one of Noa's favorites even though she hasn't had a chance to wear it out yet.

“Dude, get over that shit.” Molly looks over the dress one more time before nodding with Farrah and then throwing it at Noa.

She catches it just barely, questioning incredulously, “What?”

“So what, man? He went and made sure your mom wasn't dead. Boohoo. He loves you and wants you to be happy.” Shrugs the brunette with the brash attitude who rarely throws it that bluntly at Noa, checking herself out in the mirror.

Farrah, who is usually the one leading the train, agrees, “Yeah, Noa. Damn.”

Many times over the last couple weeks have the girls shown this same attitude - damn Noa, love you but he was just looking out. Yeah, it was actually really sweet if you could see it. If you could just get over the fact that you didn't ask him too.

Noa is kind of tired of always hearing the same things from her friends. If it were them in her situation, she'd surely have their backs in whatever they needed to be happy.

She rolls her eyes and exasperates, “It's not really any of your business either.”

“Bitch, calm down.” Molly snaps her head away from the mirror at Noa’s annoyed tone, still smiling. “It's just, you're always so down because what exactly?”

“He went to my mom.”

“Must be rough to be cared about.” Farrah moans dramatically, fixing her lip gloss in the mirror.

Molly throws her arm around Farrah's neck and confers, “It's probably because she's not used to it, huh?”

“All that love has got her feeling angry inside, I suppose.”

Ever since the two of them got their happy little ending - because yeah, Molly calls Zayn her boyfriend now - they've been nearly insufferable to Noa. She guesses it's because they just want her to be happy so bad that they can't tell how pushy they can be. Every time she tells them to chill, either one of them will explain it away as just being “fucking honest” with her about the truth of the situation.

“Can you guys just shut up?” Noa says in a sweet voice so her friends aren't really offended, though she can't lose all edge to it so they do know she's being serious.

Farrah counters, “Then come to the party.”

“I don't want to.” She walks over to the drawer where her underwear is and pulls out a black bra and black panties - nothing special at all.

“You'll be so bummed if you miss it.”

“Normally, and you know this, I'm not on Farrah's side.” Molly shudders, laughing. “But you haven't been out once this semester and we're almost halfway through it. Even if Harry is the dick of the century, you shouldn't let him keep you in.”

“I don't.” From Noa’s perspective, that isn't the case. Not one bit.

“You do.” Farrah argues, picking up the dress Noa has since put on the chair by her desk, holding it back up towards her friend and adding, “It's kind of sad, really.”

Molly takes what Farrah says and tacks on a pout. “Do you want to make us sad, Noa?”

Noa throws her head back, realizing she will be leaving the dorm that night no matter how much she wants to stay in.

“I hate you guys, you know that?” She grunts and drops her towel, putting the bra back into the drawer since the dress they picked didn't call for it.

The two girls take one more look at each other, both fully polished for a night out and looking fabulous in their very different but revealing dresses, and somehow say at the same time, “For sure.”

---

By the time they do arrive, all in some variation of black and a red lip, the party is in full swing. It's one of the more crowded ones Noa has ever been to at the frat house - and she was there for the anti-Trump party the day after he got elected. Every room was brimming then and somehow tonight still feels like more.

Molly has to basically pull the others through the front door, ignoring the come on’s from randoms who have no clue who they are. Bass is thumping through the room though, so it's easy for the girls to pretend like they just can't hear the guys. One of them almost touches Farrah but she's swatting them away before they have the chance.

When they finally get to people they know, they're all ready for a drink. The good thing is that the person they find is Louis and Louis always always mans the keg.

“Hey babe!” He greets Farrah as soon as he sees her, bursting with excitement, clearly drunk, kissing her cheek. “You guys made it!”

“Not without a little pushing on our part.” Farrah gestures between her and Molly and nodding her head in Noa’s direction.

Noa shakes her head and restrains from saying something sassy. She instead goes for one of the red cups on the top of a plastic tower of them and holds it out to Louis, “Fill me up, Lou?”

“Anything for my favorite grouch!” He brings the tap to the lip of her cup and begins filling it.

“Hey! I am not a grouch.”

“I'd beg to differ.” Molly follows suit and holds up a cup.

“And that's coming from the girl who is willingly dating Zayn Malik - moodiest dude ever.” Louis snorts.

“We can't all be as happy as you are all the time.” Molly says sharply, like she's actually defending her boyfriend. Noa hasn't seen Molly go that far yet, but low and behold, Molly is damn near snarling at someone for Zayn.

She's touched, really. And working on her drink as she listens to the two go back and forth. Louis may be happy all the time but he sure does have a few smart remarks up his sleeve that makes Noa glad she came out. Farrah watches too, trying not to root on either side but ultimately laughing a bit more at Louis’ quips.

Zayn shows up soon to defend himself with Niall close on his heels. As soon as Niall sees Noa, he bounds for the spot right next to her and embraces her in the biggest bear hug imaginable.

“Where have ya been, my cheerleading beauty?” He asks as he loosens his grip. Placing a kiss on her forehead quickly, he urges, “Huh?”

All the affection is a bit much for Noa - she feels submerged in his gruff and beer breath and loud voice - but, she knows that's just who Niall is when so she tries to act okay with it, shrugging, “Oh you know, around.”

“Avoiding us?”

“No. Never.” She shakes her head with certainty so the blonde will believe her.

Niall nods sheepishly and with a slightly disbelieving eye. “Avoiding him?”

At that, the worry in her stomach reappears, the ominous him of it all looming over her head. Noa gives a snort, “No. Never.” She brushes him further back so she can give Niall a look that makes him think he is crazy to even assume.

But just like he didn't believe her a second ago, he doesn't believe her now. Niall emits another chuckle and nudges her shoulder, “Yeah, well, I've missed you. There haven’t been enough environmental rants in my life recently.”

“I am so sorry. I'll get on that in a drink or two.” Noa smiles wide, raising her cup to her lips and taking a larger than usual drink to show her conviction for Niall.

Shaking his head, he says, “I heard something about you and frogs.”

“Don't get me started.” She throws her hand in the air to stop him, then changes her mind. “Actually, it was a beautiful experience. Transcendental really.”

“Really?”

“You’ll be there next time.” Noa assures, to which Niall enthusiastically agrees. He is smiling so pure, cheeks getting redder the closer he gets to intoxicated, his eyes radiating good times. It reminds Noa of how he looks when he talks animatedly about girls he has crushes on, leading her to ask right in that moment, “How are you and that girl?”

“Huh?” Niall squints at her, trying to figure out what she is talking about.

“That girl? The basketball player.”

“Oh. That fizzled out in weeks. Too extreme, I found.” He is shaking his head, “Man, she had practice like, all the time and didn't ever make time for dates.”

Noa feels her eyes go big with shock that he said that, immediately reacquainted with the feeling of when boys said the same things about her in high school. She flares her nostrils and playfully says, “Wow. What a bitch? It's like she has her own life or something.”

“You know what I mean though. She was just too busy.” Defending himself, he raises his voice. “We weren't ever anything serious though so it's not like either of us were too bent up about it.”

Noa decides then that it isn’t her business - not after the way Niall started laughing halfway through his defense. She smiles and without thinking says, “Nice. Always good to split up amicably.”

“How would you know?” Niall drops his jaw and lifts his eyebrows accusingly the moment the words are out of Noa’s lips.

She smacks her hand to her forehead - regret regret regret - as she pleads, “Not you too! You're supposed to be a good one.”

“Come on, Noa. Can you blame me? I've spent the last couple months listening to Harry whine.” Niall admits without any bit of wavering on the subject.

Noa doesn’t want to have the conversation and she doesn’t want to care that Harry has been whining. But she does. “Whine?”

“Well… yeah.” Niall only notices then that maybe he shouldn’t be talking about it with her. “But I'm his lad so I'm saying no more on the subject.”

“You brought it up.”

“Fuck! I did, didn't I?”

“You're drunk, my friend.” Noa grips his shoulder closest to her and brings their bodies closer for emphasis, laughing in his face, “Absolutely pissed.”

“Look who's bringing him up now!” Niall’s eyes light up even more, pointing a finger in her face, following the sentence with the final drink from his cup.

“That wasn't me bringing him up.” Noa swats his hand away, nearly annoyed with the fact that he was technically correct.

“Nah, just using his British-y terms.” Niall puts on a bad accent and grins, “Gonna go take a kip soon?”

“Shut up.” She rolls her eyes but finds herself smiling at the word and how she always thought it was kind of cute coming out of Harry's mouth - the way he only ever uses it when he is completely worn out and a little slurry in his pronunciation. It sends an instant wave of missing him washing over her, raising the normal level she's gotten used to.

Her eyes are scanning the room for him uncontrollably now. She would try to stop them but she feels a sudden need to find him. Maybe just to see him or maybe just to talk. Maybe even to really talk to him - about what went wrong and how, for far too long, she hasn't gotten to pretend to dislike cuddling him.

She can't find him after a few peers and peeks around the tops of everyone's head so she turns to Niall who is getting his cup refilled and asks, “Is he here?”

“Uh, I don't think so.” Niall drops the tap and gestures in the direction across the room. “Go ask Zayn, though. As you said, I'm pissed.” He laughs once again as Noa follows his advice and makes her way to the guy surrounded by clouds.

“Zayn.” She addresses him with a smile and some hope that he’ll know where Harry is.

“Hey, Noa. How ya doin’?”

“Good. You?” Noa is making her way through casualties patiently, not fully understanding the incessant urge to see Harry but letting her true emotions engulf her actions.

Zayn, on the other hand, is genuinely into the conversation, smiling from ear to ear as he runs a hand through his hair. “Pretty fucking toked out.”

Noa laughs because how can she not and then doesn't even think to segway into her question before she's asking, “Do you know where Harry is?”

“Not here.” Zayn eyes her suspiciously, high but still aware that Noa asking for Harry is something out of the ordinary. He carries on quickly though, “He doesn't really show up to the parties anymore.”

“Why not?” Noa is confused. Harry always loved to celebrate with the guys, she knows he always came here after a win unless he was with her - usually they'd come together. “How can he not be celebrating his big night?”

“Like you don't know.” Zayn hits his pipe after shaking his head at her, almost disapproving. Because Noa does know. She knows it is her fault that Harry isn't there. She doesn't need the look from Zayn to add to that. She bows her head to look into her half-filled cup just so she can avoid the brown eyes of Harry's close friend. Yet, he continues, “He's missing you, babe. He puts up a good front, I think, when he's around you anyway.”

“So he just doesn't show anymore?” She bites her lip, ignoring the Harry missing her part and what that does to her brain.

“Hasn't in weeks.” Zayn shrugs and then exhales, resolute in something before he gets a smirk and explains, “I shouldn't tell you this but last time we smoked he went on this like, 20-minute rant type thing on how he like, went on a hike with you once or some shit and fucking had the best time of his life and how he was like terrified it wouldn't happen again. I don't know. It was a trip, man.”

“When was this?” Noa can’t believe Harry even registers that hike as something special - as she remembers, he complained the whole time and pretended to die on multiple occasions. Though, to her it is one of those moments she thinks about when she shouldn't be thinking about anything at all. It's one of those memories she replays while listening to Drake and contemplating how much fun it was to just be with him.

High Zayn scratches his chin. “Like the day before the day before yesterday.”

So Noa puts her drink on one of the side tables and begins to stress about her next move. Because now she knows she wants to talk to him, she wants to figure out a few things - she's tired of pretending like she has a clear idea of everything they both did right and wrong. It's all jumbling together, causing her to think none of it should've gone to where it went.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket and stares at it, and then she looks back over to Zayn who is kind of just watching for her next move too. She looks down at her phone again and decides, “I'm gonna - fuck it - I'm gonna call him.”

The line rings and rings and Noa is fighting her way back out of the house to find some quiet. It goes to voicemail before she can even get close to the door. She's thinking of leaving a message for him but then she's thinking maybe he just ignored her on purpose. Maybe he has had enough of her shit. After all, he was just trying to help and she threw the biggest fit. Her thumb presses the end call button as soon as that thought makes its way to her heart - the only organ she's letting her actions function off of at the moment.

She's finally getting out of that house and away from the party she didn't want to go to in the first place. But now she's by herself and questioning everything. She's feeling so deeply that she wants to go to Harry and apologize for everything that's gone on - even though it wasn't all her fault. No matter what happened, she just wants to start over. She wants to talk to him and say, listen, we fucked up but I care for you so much. Let's try again… please, let's try again.

It all happens so fast but she feels her mind made up...

But then never mind. Her brain is saying, hold up. You had your reasons. Calm down. It's only 10:30. He's not asleep, you know that. He ignored you on purpose. Go home.

Staring down at her phone on the chilly spring night, she's truly and completely torn. And when moments like this occur, she can usually think of only one way to resolve it - smoking by herself and thinking on it.

So, that's what she does. She goes home and finds her stash, then walks to her favorite park and smokes for hours. Her brain and heart are still having the debate when the sky starts to shift from black to purple to orange. And then, by then, she ignores them both and follows what her eyes need - a good, long bit of rest.

 authors note: wow okay!!!!! so one chapter left now!!! i have just started writing it last night so give me a week or two and we will wrap up ol’ noa and harry. i am actually very sad about it being over. i think as a writer you get so attached to the characters and the world theyre in and everything but about halfway through, you wanna make a new world with new characters (at least i did) so you kind of wanna hurry up and finish this current story... but now that its almost over, i wish i still had so much more left to write and explore. like, noa’s dad. he’d be fun to dive into but he just isnt a part of her life at the moment so that would have to be a whole other fic. and i am going to wrap up noa and sarah cherry but not in intense detail because again, that’d just be a different fic. sarah was a part of this story but really, obviously, its all about noa. and noa isnt about her mom at this point. she is kind of over the worry. and wow this note is getting long. sorry. 

anyway

what do you think is going to happen next? what do you want to happen? what do you think of noa and her friends? and what about that boy harry? he wasnt in this chapter but soooooon!!!!

#1dff #sf chapter #what do you think?? #i hope you like it! #one chapter left #*crying emoji*

[brittanyyoungblog]

30+ Funny Tinder Bios That Will Crack You Up

When writing a bio on Tinder, there are many ways to catch somebody’s attention, but being funny is of the best among them. Marilyn Monroe said, “If you can make a girl laugh, you can make her do anything.” I think that line goes for most people.

While Tinder is full of unfunny and unoriginal bios left and right, there are still quite a few gems. Here’s a list of over 30 funny tinder bios that will inspire you to spruce up your own profile.

I like my men like I like my coffee, ground up and in the freezer.

I like sticking my hands in towels. And I like smelling books.

I’m looking for a guy who is really trusting and healthy! You must have both kidneys, non smoker, and not be a big drinker or take any drugs that could damage the liver…Type O negative blood a plus! ESFP

Shit, I’d date me.

I feel as out of place on tinder as a nun doing squats in a cucumber field.

I take hot showers because I like practicing burning in hell.

I don’t have Ebola.

My ideal date? I pick you up in my car, and there’s candles gently licking the air on the dashboard ‘Rich, there’s candles on the dashboard’, I smile. ‘Yeah, I know.’ We take a drive, go to a restaurant, have a wonderful meal and talk about life, goals, and ideals.  As we leave, you notice my car is ablaze. ‘Rich, your car is on fire!’. ‘It’s okay – it’s not mine’ – at which point I pull out marshmallows. We cook them & eat them. Then I kiss you passionately. In front of the burning car.

Let’s be honest I’m on Tinder and my first picture is of me in a bikini, I’m not looking for a relationship or a friend.

All men are pigs and I’m in the mood for bacon.

I do stuff, I also do things.

Roses are red, bacon is red. Poems are hard. Bacon.

Hello Ladies, Look at the last guy you matched, now back to me, now back to the last guy you matched, now back to me. Sadly, he isn’t me, but if he stopped leaving his bio blank, and had better pictures, he could be like me. Look down, back up, where are you? You’re on Tinder with the man of your dreams. What’s in your hand, back to me. I have it. It’s a pizza with your favourite toppings on it. Look again, the Pizza is now your favourite dog. Anything’s possible when you match me on Tinder.

I’m the kinda guy you can take home to meet your mom. She’ll think I’m super funny, and charming..and cute, but actually kind of sexy at the same time? She falls in love with me. I..think I feel the same way. We get married. I’m your dad now. I confront you, ‘young lady why are you on Tinder?’ You are now grounded.

Grandfather seeking companion for granddaughter. She suffers from poor choices.

Went to a party dressed as an egg, and got with a guy who was dressed as a chicken. A life long question was answered that night. It was the chicken…

Runner up for Time’s ‘Sexiest IT Man Alive’. Once rescued a fireman and a puppy from a burning building. And after mastering French, I became an international super spy. Right now, I’m sailing across the Pacific, stealing top-secret information, and sipping Moscow Mules…shaken, not stirred. Okay, okay. Perhaps I exaggerated *just* a tad. But I can fix your laptop, and puppies love me. Message me for more straight talk, and I’ll send you FB links, delicious cocktail recipes, and MUCH more.”

Threesome? No thanks…if I want to disappoint two people in the same room, I’d have dinner with my parents.

I accidentally (purposely) changed my name to Jeb Bush on Facebook in a 2AM burst of inspiration, not realizing you can’t change it for 60 days, so if that doesn’t tell you enough about me as a person then I don’t know what to tell you

I lost my watch at a party once. An hour later I saw some guy stepping on it while he was harassing some woman at that party. Infuriated, I immediately went over, punched him and broke his nose. No one does that to a woman, not on my watch.

Two reasons to date me:

Because you’d be the good looking one

Please

My brother once put me through a Christmas tree wrapping machine then my parents put me in the boot for the ride home.

Professional Eugoogoolizer at the Derek Zoolander Center For Kids Who Can’t Read Good And Wanna Learn To Do Other Stuff Good Too.

Aye wassup, I’m Clint, I like to take girls out for a massive plate of barbecue ribs on a first date. I judge them according to how many and how aggressively they consume them. Whoever defeats me in this porcine endeavor shall become my warrior bride. My Boudicca. I’ll set nations ablaze at her feet just to watch the flames dance in her eyes. Our love will be beautiful in its violence as a tempest hits the Bering Strait, and should it die; it dies as it began with a mount of bones between us.

I hope you like alpha males because I’m your guy. That’s right, I’m the whole package. I’ll defend your honor in public, won’t take shit from waiters, and I’ll even get you pregnant, leave, and then come back to eat the child.

I’m the kinda girl you can take home to your family. I will then get closer to them than you are and we’ll slowly phase you out.

I’m on tinder to make friends the same way I’m on Pornhub to see the plumber repair the sink.

I like long walks on the beach with my girlfriend, until the LSD wears off and I realize I’m just dragging a stolen mannequin around a Wendy’s parking lot.

Don’t swipe right, just on here to catch my lying boyfriend.

Hey honey! If you’re seeing this its over youre caught. Oh another thing that girl Brittney youre seeing sunday at 7pm in charlottesville to catch a movie. She has showed me everything. Were besties now bye loser!

I’m look for a girl who is super mean. She also has to be really clingy and jealous. I prefer women who talk a lot about their ex and a love for da bootyliciousness. In my free time I like to take off my shirt and take selfies. I’m super in shape thanks to my strict diet of Mountain Dew and twizzlers. We’re a twizzler family, red vines have no place in my home. I work nights fighting crime. I’m not saying I’m Batman, but I am saying no one has seen the Riddler in Austin Texas.

Carolina V 2.0 Tinder Edition Updates -minor bug fixes -improved selection algorithm -new pictures (bikini pic added) -performance enhancements: summer tan -multilingual support

Actually several thousand years old idk why it says 21 lol Downside: I’ve only been nailed once Upside: I would die for you, so you know I’m committed… Also my dad is a pretty big deal. He always beats me in dreidel Swipe right if you need some Jesus in you.

I’m on here because I’m trying to date your dad.

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