#i feel like i’m so unnoticeable and replaceable

[xspeter]

𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑫𝑰𝑮𝑨𝑵

𐬺 ➾ 𝑃𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑚！𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𐬺 ➾ 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓 (𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆) 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝑴𝑱.

𐬺 ➾ 𝐼𝑛𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑘𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡！

It wasn’t fair.

You had been dreaming about going to prom with Peter Parker since you were six years old, and now, some girl Peters barely known for a year, gets to accomplish your dream? How is that fair?

You stir your punch, legs crossed as you watch Peter and MJ dance. Your own date, some guy you barely even know, is behind the bleachers making out with some girl you don’t even know the name of. That doesn’t bother you though, no, Peter is bothering you.

It hurts even more because it’s not even his fault! He doesn’t know that you’ve been practically in love with him since the first grade, so how can you expect him to do something about it?

So lost in your own self pity, you don’t notice the sound of a chair behind pulled out next to you.

“Hey,” Ned says, a slight smile on his face, “How are you feeling?”

Ned is the only person (besides your mom) that knows how you feel about Peter. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” You seethe. Ned rolls his eyes, he takes a sip of his own watered down punch, and gives you a, stop-bullshitting-me look.

You furrow your brows, “What?” You exclaim, arms crossing over each other.

Ned gestures to Peter and MJ briefly, “So you’re just staring at them like you want to murder them for fun?”

You scoff, “I’m not staring at them.”

You choose to ignored the way your voice wavers, and you’re thankful Ned chooses to ignore it too. “Whatever you say… Look, if you get sick of sitting here by yourself, me and Betty are only a couple tables down.” He says, getting up and walking away, but not without a final sympathetic glance at you.

You nod in acknowledgement, shooting Ned a reassuring smile.

Once he walks away, you pull your eyes back to Peter and MJ, only to find that they’re gone. Your eyes fart around the room, looking for the couple but coming up with nothing.

You bite your lip. If they walked away from the party to get some privacy then you should let them have that, but what if they didn’t walk away? What if they were forced away?

You were one of the only people who knew that Peter was Spider-man, which meant you were one of the only people who knew the constant danger he was in. Which meant if he was in trouble, you were one of the only people who would know. So you should go look for him, right?

You stand from your chair abruptly, causing it to make a loud screeching noise against the gymnasium floor. People in the tables around you glance at you, and you awkwardly clear your throat and give them all an apologetic smile.

You swiftly make your escape from the gym, ignoring ned as he attempts to talk to you as you walk past his table. You quickly flutter your eyes open and closed as they adjust to the bright of the hallway as you exit the dark gym. Slowly, you begin to walk, keeping yourself vigilante for any clues that could leed you to Peter or MJ.

As you walk farther into the school, you hear the faint sounds of giggling.

“Peter, what are you doing?” A female voice shrieks, one you know belongs to MJ. Relief fills you at the revelation that neither of them are in danger, but dread replaces it as you realize the other possibility.

Slowly, you follow the voices until your against the wall next to them. You flatten yourself against it, doing your best to make yourself as unnoticeable as possible.

You listen as Peter shushes MJ playfully, and the girls giggles softly in response. Logically, you know it’s in your best interest to leave, but you can’t bring yourself to.

Peter softly pushes MJ against the wall, softly he says, “Can I kiss you?” MJ nods swiftly. As soon as he gets her consent he’s quick to connect their lips. You feel sick, and your hands ghosts over your stomach.

Tears fill your eyes as you make a quick escape for the gym. Once you make it, you rush past a confused Ned and Betty and begin collecting your things. Your date, who must’ve reappeared somewhere in the last ten minutes, smiles once he sees you and begins to try and make conversation, but you shoot him a glare that effectively shuts him up.

You leave the gym with tears dripping down your cheeks, trying and failing to hold down your sobs. You quickly climb into your car and slam the door shut. You were Peter and MJ’s ride but you could care less if they were stranded, as far as you were concerned they could stay at the school all night.

Rationally, you know you have no right to be feeling like this towards the two of them. You technically have no real claim on Peter and he could kiss whoever he wanted, but that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt.

You pull out of the highschool and break practically every traffic law in existence to get to your home. Once you make it, you stumble into your house and begin to tear off your clothes and pull your hair down.

Your mascara runs down your face as you pull onto a baggy shirt and throw yourself onto your bed, too exhausted and depressed to take off any of your make up or shower.

You continue to hiccup, closing your eyes and attempting to get some sleep, but your thoughts are still plagued with thoughts of Peter and his stupid, pretty face.

You wake up to the shrill sound of your ringtone. With a groan, you turn it off, already knowing who’s at the phone and why they’re calling.

You attempt to close your eyes and go back to bed, but you’re interrupted by your door bursting open and an angry looking Peter stepping through the threshold.

“What the hell, y/n?” He seethes, “Me and MJ were stuck at the school for an hour before May could come get us!”

You smile victoriously, “I’m sorry?” You giggle. Peter furrows his brows, “Sure you are.”

You roll your eyes and check your phone, it’s nearly midnight. “Jesus, Peter. It’s almost midnight- why the hell are you here?”

Peter looks at you like you’re stupid, “Because something is clearly wrong, and i’m not just gonna let you sit here and be depressed about whatever it is by yourself.”

You swallow, eyebrows furrowing and a fresh set of tears beginning to fill your eyes. Even though you abandoned him at the school- he’s still trying to make you feel better. Why did he have to be so nice? Why did he have to make this harder then it already was?

“I’m not upset.” You mumble, arms stretching out behind you to prop yourself up.

Peter sits at the end of your bed, causing it to sink a bit. “Where’s MJ?” You ask. He smiles at the mention of her, “We took her home.” He says.

You hum in acknowledgment, eyes looking past Peter, because you know if you look at him right now you’ll burst out crying.

Peter, always so in tune to your emotions, immediately notices the shift in mood. “Hey, hey…” He scoots closer to you until you’re face to face. His hand cups your cheek, “What’s wrong?”

That’s when the dam breaks. Your lower lip wobbles as a new cascade of tears flows down your cheeks. You push him away, practically jumping to the other side of the room to put some space between the two of you.

“Please, just please Peter, just go-” You beg.

Peters eyes snap open as he stands from your bed. He knows well enough to not attempt to get close to you though. “Not until you tell me what’s bothering you!”

“Nothing is bothering me-”

He laughs at that, “Then why are you crying?”

You roll your eyes, arms crossing over your chest, you scoff out, “It’s none of your business.”

It’s Peters turn to scoff as his eyes practically bulge out of his head, “It is my business y/n! We’re best friends, we tell each other everything! Just tell me what is bothering you so I can help you feel better!”

“I can’t!” You sob.

You can see Peter trying to put it together in his head. He suddenly steps closer to you, eyes searching your face for, well, really anything at this point.

“Is someone threatening you?” He asks seriously. His hands reach out for yours, but you’re quick to pull them behind your back. Hurt flashes in his eyes at this, but still, he persists. “If someone is hurting you because you know me then you have to tell me. Mr. Stark and I can-”

“No one is hurting me!” You huff. You do your best to maneuver around the taller boy, who has somehow cornered you against the wall, but he stops you. Peter gently grabs you shoulder and keeps you in front of him. “Then what is wrong?”

“Please don’t make me say it.” You gasp, “Please, Peter, don’t.”

Peters eyes soften as he pulls you against his chest. You sob into his shoulder, arms circling around his torso and squeezing him against you.

He pulls back, his hands cup your face and he smiles, “There’s my girl.” He says adoringly.

Your lips twitch into a smile and then fall again. “You have to go, Peter.” You mumble. The brunette nods and pulls you into his chest once more. You squeeze him like this is the last time you’ll ever touch him, because as far as you know, it is.

It’s been nearly a month since prom, and you and Peter have spoken possibly three times. It’s not his fault really, he’s just so busy with him and MJ’s new relationship and you, well… you’re not really making any effort to hang out with him. It hurts too much- having to listen to him gush about how in love he is.

Too busy playing with the food on your tray, you don’t notice that you’re staring at Peter and MJ across the lunchroom until someone waves a manicured hand in your face.

“Um, hello? Anyone home?” Gwen jokes. You roll your eyes and drop your fork. Gwen pulls out the chair across from you and drops her tray with a bang.

“I’ve been trying to get her attention this whole time.” Kate says. Gwen shrugs, “Well, you know how she gets when she sees… well. Y’know.”

Kate nods sympathetically and you cross your arms over your chest. “You’re both so dramatic.”

Kate and Gwen share a look.

“How are the plans for your birthday party coming along?” Kate asks, and you’re grateful for the change in subject.

You shrug, “They’re coming.” You say, taking a bite of your mashed potatoes. Gwen snorts, “Coming.” She laughs. You and Kate groan, “You’re such a child.” You say endearingly.

The three of you laugh and continue to eat. You each throw in little comments here and there, and you don’t even notice when Ned sits in the empty chair next to you.

“Hey.” He says with a polite wave. He nods to Gwen and Kate in greeting and the two follow suit. “Hey, Ned.” You respond with a warm smile.

Ned clears his throat, nervously he asks, “Are you avoiding Peter?”

You furrow your brows and glance at the boy in question. Peter is staring right at you. When your eyes meet, he’s quick to look the other way.

“No, i’m not. Why would you think that?”

The boy shrugs, “No-no reason. I was just… wondering.”

You roll your eyes, “Tell Peter if he wants to talk to me he can do it himself.”

Ned opens his mouth to protest but you give him a glare. He nods solemnly and walks gloomily to Peter.

“I think I lost my appetite.” You say. You pick up your tray and leave the table without saying goodbye to a concerned Kate and Gwen.

You throw your food away and head for the bathroom. You’ve spent way too much time here these past couple of weeks, either to just get a breather or to sit in cry. Right now, you want to sit and cry.

You look in the mirror and watch as fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks, eyes glassy and cheeks beginning to redden.

You drop your backpack on the floor and lean against the sink. Face falling into your hands. A position you’ve found yourself in way too many times.

You aren’t even sure what hurts more- Peter and MJ’s relationship or the fact that you had no right to be mad at Peter and especially not MJ. They didn’t do anything. If you really considered yourself Peters best friend you would be happy for him, right? So then why aren’t you?

Is it because you’re too selfish? Is it because you want Peter all too yourself?

Yes, you think, Is that too much to ask for?

You’re pity party is interrupted by the door opening, and you’re quick to wipe your face and pretend that the mascara stains on your face simply aren’t there. And you’re praying the other person does the same.

Clearly you did something to make the world fucking hate you, because of course Michelle fucking Jones is the one who walks in the bathroom. You sniffle and keep your head down, avoiding eye contact.

Her hair is pulled back in a low pony, some strands left out to frame her face. She’s wearing a simple blue crewneck and baggy leggings. She’s one of those girls who make looking homeless look good.

“Oh,” She clears her throat, “Sorry to… interrupt.” You nod in acknowledgment, immediately attempting to push past her and walk out of the bathroom, but she stops you.

She stares at you for a moment, takes a deep breath, and then says, “Are you in love with Peter?”

You swallow the lump that formed in your throat, your heart falling to your stomach. You suddenly feel nauseous- like the room is closing in on you.

“Who told you that?”

She shakes her head, her eyes downcast. “No one. But… it’s not hard to tell.”

You squeeze your eyes shut.You shouldn’t be surprised she noticed. MJ’s always been an observant person, she’s always been able to read right through you- so why did you think you could hide this from her?

“Look,” You huff, “I’m not- I’m not going to act on it so you don’t need to worry-”

“I’m not.” She blurts, “Worried, I mean. I know you and I know that you just want Peter to be happy. I just wanted to tell you that… i’m sorry.”

Your eyes widen and you look at her in shock, your hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. She’s apologizing? For what? Have you really made her feel so bad about being happy wirh someone that she felt the need to apologize?

You feel like a terrible person, your eyes welling up with a new set of tears.

“You have nothing to apologize for-” You start, but she interrupts you again.

“No, I do,” She sighs, she grabs your forearms and bites her lip. “I…I knew. I knew and I still went after him and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Your jaw clenches as a new wave of emotions crash over you. She knew how you felt and she still went after him? Doesn’t that violate like every single girl code there is?

Through your anger, you manage a smile. It’s not her fault, you remind yourself. Peter was so.. so easy to fall in love with, if you were in her shoes you probably would’ve went after him too.

An awkward silence filled her revelation, but through bated breaths you manage, “It’s fine.”

MJ looks at you like you’ve grown two heads, and maybe you have.

“The heart wants what it wants right?”

Birthday parties have never really been your thing. You always feel awkward at them, with all that attention on you. Some people revel in it. You are not one of those people.

You continue to brush out your hair, pulling it back and out of your face to allow you to start your makeup. Your parents are out in some business trip, and as far they’re aware, you’re just going to dinner with a few friends.

You huff and continue to do your makeup. You rarely ever go all out usually, not unless it’s a dance or something like that, but tonight is different. Tonight you’re going to look amazing and you’re absolutely positive about it.

You carefully pull your party dress over your hair, which you just finished doing. The dress is black and lacy. It has spaghetti straps and it reaches to your middle thigh. The material is skin tight and silky to the touch.

You pull on your black heels and walk to your full length mirror. You smooth your hands over sides and make sure you’re comfortable with how you look. You smile and take a deep breath tight as your mom calls you to the living room.

You walk down the stairs slowly, a smile on your face as you see Kate and Gwen talking to your mom. Kate is wearing a beautiful purple dress, the top is tight but the bottom is slightly flowy and it reaches her mid thigh. She looks almost like a princess.

Gwen is wearing a tight sequin teal dress. Her hair is up in a low messy bun with some strands framing her face. “You guys look amazing.” You compliment. At the sound of your voice both of them snap their heads towards you and their eyes practically bug out of their head.

“No fucking way! You look beautiful! Is Peter coming? He should be able to see what he’s missing.” Gwen mumbles the last part, but you still hear it. Your heart pangs a bit at her suggestion but you still put a smile on your face. You explain that you had invited Peter before any of this had even happened, and as far as you knew, he would still be here.

Gwen made a face at this, but didn’t say anything. You shrugged, “Besides, it’s not like we aren’t friends anymore. I just needed some space so I could get used to him and MJ being together. I’m basically over it at this point.” Kate and Gwen shared a look at your blatant lie, but you choose to ignore it.

An awkward silence seeps into the room that all of you choose to believe isn’t there, and it isn’t broken until the first couple of guests get there. You hope up and quickly instruct Kate to dim the lights and start the music, which she does. The room is covered in an incandescent glow now, and the familiar sound of Spotifys, “Best Pop Hits of All Time” playlist begins to play.

You open the door and see the familiar face of Flash Thompson as well as a bunch of other faces you hardly recognize.

You furrow your eyebrows at Flash’s smirking face, “Last I checked, I didn’t invite you.” You snarl. Flash shrugs and pats your shoulder, “Happy Birthday, Sweetie.” He walks past you, and the rest of the guest follow suit.

By the time Peter arrives the place is packed. He can barely turn the corner without nearly running into someone, and the music is blasting so loud his senses are beginning to go awry.

He catches a glimpse of you dancing with Gwen and Kate, your eyes are sparkling and a real smile is on your lips. He thinks it’s the first real one he’s seen on you all month.

His lips twitch up, and his heart aches a bit at the current state of your relationship. He has no idea why you’re avoiding him, but he’s determined to find out tonight and fix it.

You however, have no idea Peter is even there. You’re too busy dancing and finally letting loose. Any thoughts about Peter or about school or even about your life seem to have completely left you, and finally you feel happy. You feel free.

“Happy Birthday Bitch!” Kate exclaims and you laugh heartily. This day really couldn’t be any better.

“Hold on, I’m gonna go get something to drink!” You yell over the music, you practically run to the “punch” (you spiked it) and fill it to the brim of your cup.

You gulp it down, hardly hearing someone calling your name. You glance to the side and see a smiling Peter, but you’re too buzzed to even care.

“Peterrr!” You squeal, immediately throwing your arms around the boy. Peter seems taken aback by your sudden show of affection for him, but he doesn’t push you away. “Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.”

You step away from him with a dopey smile on your face, “How have you been?” You question, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in, like, forever.” Peter cringes and laughs nervously, “I’m fine, but today’s not about me. How are you, Birthday Girl?”

You shrug, “Today? I’m great. Every other day, not so much.” Peters smile falls slightly at your revelation. He knows if you weren’t as drunk as you were you would’ve never admitted something like that to him.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He says honestly. You smack his arm and laugh, “I bet you are.” You giggle, and then you kiss him on the cheek and walk back to the dance floor.

Peter really, really needs to find out what’s been bothering you.

The next two hours you spend partying and drinking, getting drunker and drunker as the night continues. Peter has soent the night much different then you, him and MJ mostly keeping to themselves, but he’s been trying to figure out when and how to talk to you.

Eventually, he finds you again grabbing the cake out of the fridge and placing it on the dining table. Peter smiles softly at it, his mind taking him back to all the other birthdays the two of you have shared together.

“Let me guess, half vanilla half chocolate?” He asks you. You loved vanilla, but Peter loves chocolate. So when the both of you were even you decided to go half and half during both of your birthdays, so you could both enjoy the cake together.

“Of course it is.” You slur.

Your obvious drunkness makes Peter question if tonight is really the right night to be doing this, but he knows if it doesn’t happen tonight, it never will, and then things will just continue to get worse. So her takes a breath and asks you, “Can I talk to you?”

You furrow your brows and cross your arms over your chest, “What about?”

Peter looks around at all the watchful eyes and listening ear around you, and gently he grabs your arm and leads you to the backyard. The area is relatively empty minus the few stragglers who aren’t even sober enough to discern their ass from their head.

He takes a breath and watches as you glance around. Your arms cross over your chest as you suddenly feel uncomfortable. “What’s going on?” You ask.

Peter takes a deep breath, “Look, Y/N, I know that you’re avoiding me, I know that for some reason that I can’t wrap my head around that I did something, but I really can’t figure out what it is.” He rambles. You open your mouth to defend yourself, but he interrupts you. “And I really just want to know what I did and how to make it better. So please, please just tell me.”

Your eyes widen and your breath begins to quicken. All the alcohol you consumed seems to have vanished as you feel more sober then you ever have in your life. You don’t know how, but you know tonight is going to change everything.

“I’ve already told you Peter, nothing is wrong.”

Peter rolls his eyes and clenches his fists at his side, “Are we really doing this again? The lying?” You squeeze your eyes shut. Peter takes a step towards you and pushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “What is wrong, Y/N?”

“I’m in love with you!” You finally blurt, “I’m in love with you and I have been for years. I didn’t know how to tell you and then you and MJ started dating and I just- I just couldn’t take it. It was selfish and I am so fucking sorry.” You’re crying by the time you’ve finished.

Peter looks shocked, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. You both sit and stare at each other in silence, the music from the party blaring from the inside of the house.

Peter swallows, “I have to leave.” He mumbles, immediately walking past you and practically running into the house.

You cough out a sob and cross your arms across your chest. You almost feel relieved that the truth is finally out there, but Peters reaction causes a whole new set of emotions to wash over you. You aren’t sure of a lot, but you do know that you and Peters relationship will never be the same after this.

Peter knows he fucked up. He knows leaving you there by yourself was not the way to handle that situation, especially not after he basically forced you to confess to him- but he didn’t know what else to do. This changes everything for Peter.

What you don’t know, is that it took Peter years before he was able to finally accept the fact that you didn’t like him like he liked you and to move on. Thats what his and MJ’s relationship is supposed to be, him moving on, but now…

He swings himself across New York Cities skyline, trying to understand what his next move should be. He can’t just break up with MJ, doing that would solve absolutely nothing, but he knows he doesn’t love MJ like he should.

He doesn’t love her like he loves you.

Peter eventually climbs his way up to the top of the Empire State building, a sandwich from Mr. Delmar’s corner shop resting in his lap.

He sighs and runs a masked hand over his face. On one hand, he has his current relationship with MJ. He liked MJ, yes, but he was in it for all the wrong reasons, and breaking up with her would just hurt her which is not something he ever wants to do.

And then there’s you. His childhood friend, the girl he fell in love with, the girl he wants to marry. But he’s practically ruined any chance he had with you. There’s no way you’ll ever want to talk to him after this, and as far as you know, he doesn’t want to talk to you either. Plus, if he broke up with MJ and then confessed everything to you there’s no way you’d even want to be in a relationship with him! (Not that he blames you.)

Even with all these thoughts swirling in his head, he knows he needs to do one thing, and that’s find MJ.

When he reaches her apartment, me knocks on the door solemnly. MJ opens it nearly immediately, and the look on her face shows that she knows why he’s there.

He smiles sadly at her, “Hey.” He mumbles. She just nods in greeting and steps out of the way to let Peter through the door.

She guides him to her room, where they both sit in an uncomfortable silence. “MJ-” He begins, but she interrupts him with a hasty kiss. It’s passionate- but only on her side. Peter sorta just sits there like a hunk of flesh and rests his lips against hers. When she pulls away there are tears in her eyes.

“I know, Peter. It’s okay.” She whispers. She squeezes his hand, and Peter’s eyes well up with an on-set of tears.

“I am so, so sorry.” He says shakily. MJ shakes her head and smiles at him reassuringly, “You have nothing to apologize for. I know you loved her when we started dating, it was just a matter of time before you realized it yourself.”

Peter bites his lower lip, a string of new emotions hits him like a truck. He had been so stupid to think he would ever be able to get over you, and he hates that he’s only just now realizing it.

MJ kisses him on the cheek one final time, “Go to her.”

Peter nods and quickly exits the house, he practically throws himself across buildings to get to you.

You one the other hand, have since practically kicked everyone out of your house so you could sit and wallow in your own self-pity. Kate and Gwen had insisted they stay but you refused saying you just wanted to be alone.

Now, you sit in the dark of your bedroom. Your house is a disaster, but your heart hurts way too much to even care.

Your mind runs through every memory you and peter have together- from the time you met when you were five years old, to now, when you’ve practically ruined any relationship you hoped to have with him.

The thought only rips more sobs out of your throat. You really have no idea how you’re even able to still be producing tears with how much you’ve cried this past month, but here you are, makeup ruined and your eyes practically blood shot.

You practically jump out of your skin when you hear a knock on your window. You don’t need to look to know who it is. The noise usually brings you comfort, happy to know Peter felt safe enough with you to come visit you after patrol- but now… now you know what’ll happen when you open that window, and you know it won’t be anything good.

Peter knocks again, a bit louder this time, and you finally force yourself to get up. You don’t bother trying to fix yourself, Peters seen you at your worst too many times to count.

You pry open your window with a soft grunt, and peter pulls off his mask and crawls through. He stumbles a bit once he lands, but he finds his footing quickly. He smiles shyly at you, but you turn around a cross your arms over your chest. You sit on your bed, causing it to sink a little bit with your weight.

Peter feels awkward and uncomfortable, which is something he never thought he’d feel when he was with you.

“Y/N…” He sighs, “I am so sorry.” You shrug your shoulders, “You didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t like me and I was stupid to ever admit that to you, especially not when you have a girlfriend.”

Peter shakes his head and leans against your wall, his arms crossed over his suit, “I don’t have a girlfriend. Not anymore.”

Your breath hitches and you finally look at his face, “What do you mean?” You mumble.

Peter shrugs, “I broke up with her.”

Your mind can’t process what you’re hearing. Why would he do that? You can’t conjure up any reason other than he had to be possessed.

“Why the hell would you do that?” You question, standing from your bed and begin pacing the room. “I mean seriously Peter! She loves you! You need to get out of here and go fix it with her!”

Peter chuckles, even through everything you’re still worried about him. “Funny,” He says, “She told me the same thing.”

You stop walking and immediately a feeling of guilt begins to settle in. You ruined MJ’s chance at happiness because of your own selfishness? You promised her you wouldn’t act on your feelings and yet here you are.

“If you broke up with her because of me then you’ve got to be out of your goddamn mind.” You seethe.

Peter shakes his head, “That-That’s the thing Y/N! I didn’t break up with her because you told me you love me, I born up with her because I…” Peter takes breath and squeezes his eyes but, “Because I love you too. And I was stupid for not acting on it sooner and forcing us into this mess.” He confesses.

Your heart practically stops. You can’t believe what you’re hearing and you can’t even look at him.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Peter shakes his head hastily and steps towards you. “I do though. I have loved you for years Y/N and I thought you didn’t love me back so I tried to move on and!- well, you know the rest.”

You swallow, and finally look up at him. Your eyes shining, “So you really love me?” You question.

Peter smiles and wraps his arms around you for the first time in what feels like months.

“I’ve never loved someone more.”

tag list - @fictional-characters-i-love-them

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #angst #marvel #folklore #cardigan #ned leeds #peter parker x michelle jones #michelle jones

[catiuskaa]

The rain falls [the sky doesn’t]

rain sucks. for you, to the very least, it’s a major problem. but your boyfriend knows something is wrong, and is determined to help you, because even if rain falls, the sky doesn’t.

because it rains a lot where I live and the prompt ‘i am afraid of something + taking care of s/o’ has me weak on my fluffy lil heart. and because i’m nervous of my exams. teehee.

word count: 1.3k

「♪♪ ♡ 🌃 ♡ ♪♪」

It wasn’t the same.

He knew he could be overthinking it, but something had to be wrong. He knew it the moment he heard the door close and there was no sort of welcoming— no “honey, I’m home!” said with a giggle, no hugs or kisses. You hadn’t even moved to your shared room—, where he had been resting, waiting for your arrival.

You two had moved together not too long ago, so, whatever was going on, he hoped that it wasn’t a problem related to how busy his schedule had been or something that he couldn’t fix.

Even if most of the people he knew would say “Hyunjin? Clueless, the man can’t get a thing,” this was right in front of him, like a missing center piece of a puzzle that is almost done. And it was you the one on the core of the issue, so of course, this was maximum priority.

Silently confused, he tilted his head on the doorframe, in a kind of cartoonish way. His eyebrows shot up when he noticed your figure on the sofa, coat and bag still on, feet hanging off the couch so you wouldn’t get it dirty.

Oh, it was that bad? He winced silently. It tugged at his chest, tightening feeling growing slowly.

“Hey there, lovely.” He greeted in a murmur, bending down on his knees, stroking your hair softly. He noticed how wet and damp it felt under his touch, as if you hadn’t bothered to use the umbrella that you carried around and that rested right in front of the door, left to dry.

You let out a strange sort of whine, and that gave out your unsteady breathing, his face quickly displaying innocent worry.

“F-fuck,” you cursed, sniffing, quickly brushing away your tears, yet more came to replace those.

“Oh, baby,” he cupped his face with your hands, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs, stroking in a soothing motion. “Lovely, why are you crying?”

You sobbed, pouting, stopping your failed attempts on hiding your face as he sweetly caged your face in his big hands, almost directly in front of his.

“I-it’s stupid.”

He frowned, a gesture almost unnoticeable.

“Yeah. And Seungmin says I’m intelligent.”

You snorted softly, and that made some of his worry go away, smiling at you softly. He pressed a small kiss on your forehead, so warm, so home, so Hyunjin, that your smile stayed in place, even if tears were still coming out.

“S-so… I uh…” He nodded, encouraging you to keep speeking and you sniffed, trying to look for the correct words.

A lightning illuminated the room, but it was the sound of thunder that rumbled under its walls, and for you, it seemed that the place had shattered into pieces. You squirmed in your place, hiding in the arms of Hyunjin, who hugged you, passing his hands, warm to the touch, under your cold and wet coat, quickly taking it off and covering you both with the blanket you kept to watch movies on the couch.

He cooed softly, your head hidden on the crook of his neck as he pecked you so tenderly, so sweetly, that you couldn’t help but let out a sigh full of anxiety, now curling up on Hyunjin’s lap, the sounds of the storm feeling further away as his slow-paced breathing calmed you down.

“My little taco.” He hummed with a cheeky smile as he had wrapped you in the blanket, only your face free from the soft fabric. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You thought about it, then shook your head sideways. Somehow, saying you were afraid of storms made them more unbearable. As if you couldn’t hide or escape from them anymore.

He moved both of you, now laying down on the sofa as he took your shoes off and then rested his head on your lap.

But, umpromptedly, his eyes shined as he looked at you.

“Lovely, I’ve been wanting to do something with you for a while,” he started. “If you feel too afraid, we don’t need to do it, we can always come back inside.”

He hesitated. Should he say it out loud? He had felt how putting your fear to words made you even more anxious. So, instead, he didn’t.

Standing up, he went to get his raincoat and his boots, taking another for you, the one you were wearing at the moment being far too drenched to wear again. He hung it close to the radiator and then helped you in your boots. And also threw one of his sweaters over your head, and you gripped the sleeves, feeling as long as always.

Hyunjin took your hands in his, walking backwards to the door, but not taking any umbrella. He stared at you lovingly as he waited for you to ask or refrain from leaving, but you nodded, still quite unsure.

He giggled, hands cradling your face and planting a big smooch on your lips, his fruit flavoured chapstick lingering on you.

Without letting go of your hand, like a kid on Christmas day, he excitedly went to the entrance of the building, now both of you standingin front of the main door, rain pouring down on the other side of the glass.

He took his phone and pressed play, happily handing you a pair of headphones, connecting both his and yours with the adaptor that you had teased him for buying a while ago.

The known melody tingled in your ears, Frank Sinatra’s voice filling your ears and your chest because Hyunjin looked so cute as he stared at you, unsure of opening the door until you gave him a sign, looking so squishable and —god, you could bite him he looked so cute—.

You let out a sigh, but with the music, hearing the rain was almost imposible, and that helped with your nerves, the instrumental on the track setting a beat for your nervous heart to follow.

“I chose this because you played it yesterday, and uh, I, well…” Hyunjin said, failing to hide a quiver in his voice.

“It’s a good song. It’s ok.” You smiled, and squeezed his hand. “It’s cheesy. Like you.”

He laughed, more relaxed. “You were the one who was screaming the chorus the other day, shouting ‘fly me to the moon’ so loud the neighbours though you were an astronaut.”

You both chuckled out of nervousness, out of a weird excitement that he glued to you.

You nodded, and both of you got out to the rain.

You flinched at the wet and cold feeling, your skin shivering at the sharp feeling of it, but you were too bothered, looking at Hyunjin, smiling, laughing, having fun, that you smiled too.

Hyunjin smiled back at you cheekily.

“Now we dance, because I’m so cheesy and you love it.”

He held you closer by your waist, lulling your body softly to the music in your headphones.

Hyunjin rested his forehead against yours as he started singing, and you lowered the volume of the headphones to listen to him better.

The rain had never looked so beautiful until he appeared on the frame.

soft hours.

「♪♪ ♡ 🌃 ♡ ♪♪」

~Kats, who lives in a place that could rain all month and because it has been raining so much got inspired (and also because procrastination is the king of good ideas to write)

ps. I seriously wrote this in 30 minutes without making any sound. I hadn’t written anything in months. I’m so fucking proud of myself.

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stream rockstar! #skz hyunjin #stray kids x reader #soft hours #stray kids fluff #skz scenarios #skz hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #fluff fluff fluff #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin comfort #straykids #stray kids imagines #skz soft hours

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Hard to Forget - Willard Hewitt x Reader

A/N: I wanted to branch out the list of characters I'd write for and since Willard is a fave of mine (I have a soft spot for dumb pretty country boys oops), I figured I'd roll with it.

Inspired by I Bet You Think About Me and Betty by Taylor Swift;

“But now that we're done and it's over, I bet you couldn't believe when you realized I'm harder to forget than I was to leave”

“But if I just showed up at your party, - Would you tell me to go fuck myself, - I’m only 17, I don’t know anything.” “Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends?”

pairing: Willard Hewitt (Footloose 2011) x f!reader

content/warnings: swearing, angst, Willard being a dummy, some pining, fluffy ending.

word count: 3k

“Willard, you can’t just go around kissin’ other girls and then telling me you love me, that’s not how this works!” 

“Well, maybe I dunno how any of this works, did’ya ever think that? Jeez, you’re puttin’ more rules on me than coach does for a football game, babe. Maybe I don’t wanna be in a relationship like this? I’m young, you know, I’m 19, I wanna be free and have fun while I still can. I’m gonna graduate soon and I wanna enjoy life before I get stuck workin’ a 9 to 5 somewhere. I know I’m not playin’ football when I get out, but I’m not plannin’ to be like everyone else back home and have a wife and kids and a dog before I turn 30.”

“Well then, maybe we should break up, Willard. Apparently according to you we were never anything to begin with, so it shouldn’t be too hard to call this off.” 

“Yeah, maybe we should.”

Willard’s words were like venom, stinging you as you walked away, hot tears threatening to overflow your eyes and stream down your face. You headed off to your dorm, trying your damnest to not let Willard’s indifference towards you get under your skin. You were determined to not let some country boy from a small town in Georgia break your heart, you were better than that. Before you left, you spun around on your heel and looked at him.

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself, Willard?” 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

Five years later, and you had long moved on from the cute Southern country boy who’d tried to break your heart. You’d completed your university degree in Education, worked your ass off, determined to be happy with or without your ex boyfriend. You and Willard never crossed paths again at university, and you were sure you’d never see him again. That was, until you had to return home for the weekend. Your younger sister had just turned 16, and your presence was requested, causing you to make the four and a half hour one way trip down to Athens to be there for her party. You’d moved to South Carolina after graduation, landing a job with a school district in Charleston where you were hired on as a first grade teacher. Once you arrived back home in Athens, the memories of Willard and your years at university all came flooding back. Complicating these, was when your tire blew on your car. You had to have it towed to the nearest mechanic.

When you hopped out of the tow truck, you lifted your sunglasses up from your eyes, resting them atop your head, squinting as you walked into the garage. A tall man with dark hair and a deep Southern accent with his back turned to you as he wiped his hands off called out to you. There was a sense of familiarity as he spoke, an uncomfortable feeling brewed in you as he turned around. You saw his face, and nothing about him had changed - the same hazel eyes, dark brown curls, the faint scars on his cheek and his chin now almost unnoticeable. His breath audibly hitched as he saw you. 

“Well...hi,” Willard chuckled awkwardly as he saw you, taking a moment to register everything that had changed since you’d left him.

“Hi,” You responded coldly, your arms folded across your chest as you looked at him, “My tire blew, I just need one replaced. No I didn’t have a spare, just charge it to my credit card when you’re done, ok?” 

“Well now, is that anyway to talk to your ex boyfriend?” Willard smirked playfully, that same godforsaken twinkle in his hazel eyes that always won you over before still clearly present.

“Ex for a reason, Willard.”

“Not a good one,” He admitted as he nodded his head slowly, “I-uh-I’ve been thinking.”

“After 5 years? Seems a little late.”

“Listen, darlin’, I was a stupid kid,” he began, nodding slowly, “I never wanted to hurt ya.”

“Well, you just did a damn good job of that without even trying, didn’t you?” You rebuffed his attempt to discuss further and handed him your credit card so he could put the tire repair on file with your card. 

“I’m sorry, ok?” He said softly, his voice barely a whisper as he spoke. 

“I’m not.”

“I probably deserve that, I’ll admit,” Willard sighs and shakes his head, “Let me make it up to ya, ok? Maybe I could take you for dinner some time? How long are ya here for? I can’t cook for shit still, but I remember you always loved going out to that place near the campus, I could take you there if ya’d like?”

“Thanks, but I have plans.”

“I haven’t even told you when it is yet.”

“Well I’m only home for a weekend. It’s my sister’s sweet 16.”

Willard’s face fell as he nodded slowly. He sighed softly and handed you your card back, furrowing his brow as he spoke.

“S’pose I can’t convince you then, can I?” 

“What could you possibly say to fix it after five years, Willard?

He frowned again before gazing up at the clock on the wall. He nodded slowly and turned his attention back to you before speaking again.

“I’m off in 10 minutes, if you wait for me, I’ll explain everything. If you say my explanation and apology aren’t good enough, I’ll back off and you can pretend you never even met me. I’ll even fix that tire for free first before you go back home.”

You weighed your options as Willard looked at you hopefully, almost as if he was pleading you to agree. You sighed and shook your head before pointing a finger at him.

“Don’t disappoint me, ok?

“I’ll do my damnest not to, darlin’”

After 10 short minutes, you observed as Willard punched out his time card and trodded off to the change room to discard of his dirty, grease laden clothes. He smiled as he walked out to you, wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt, his beat up old baseball cap from when you’d first met him now adorning his head. He laughed softly before turning to you once again and grinning.

“I’m impressed you waited for me,” Willard explained. 

As the two of you headed outside, you spotted his infamous beat up old pickup truck, looking as rough as ever parked outside. Willard grinned at you and laughed, “You used to love this truck, you know.”

“Yeah, when I was 19, I also loved country boys in cowboy hats who wiillingly broke my heart by kissing other girls while I thought we were dating exclusively,” You hissed at him.

If there was one thing you knew about Willard, it was that he didn’t give a single fuck if anyone didn’t like his truck. That truck was the only thing he loved more than his own mama, and Willard would spend every last dime he had to fix that awful thing just so he could continue cherishing it. He’d always been very set in his ways about everything. It was the reason why you’d split in the first place. He was so determined to “live freely” and “live his life” that he gave up anything he figured might have stopped him, including you.

“Listen, I’m sorry for what I did, yeah?” 

“So you’ve said.” 

“Just hear me out, ok? I was a stupid kid. I was 19, I didn’t know shit. I still don’t know shit at 24, but you know what I do know?” 

“How to count past 10 without taking your shoes off?” You retorted dryly.

“Hey now, I’m trying to be serious!” Willard laughed softly, “I know now that you never would have stopped me from doing whatever I had my heart set on. You would have encouraged me to just be happy. I appreciate that. I was just too stupid to pick up on that. I’m sorry I broke your heart. I also learned that you were so much harder to forget than you were to leave. Watching you walk away and hearing you tell me to go fuck myself gave me quite the ego check. And, I really did think you were the sweetest lil’ Georgia peach I’d ever met.”

You rolled your eyes as you tried to maintain your icy exterior towards him. On the inside though, you could feel your heart melt ever so slightly as he called you a Georgia peach - that had always been his saying when he thought you did something cute. He’d pat your cheek with his big hand, calloused from a combination of playing football and his studying to be a mechanical engineer, and grin at you as his thick as molasses Southern accent gushed at you. “Well ain’t you just as sweet as a Georgia Peach?” he’d always say. Half the time you figured he said it purely to make you blush. 

Willard took a step closer to you, his hazel eyes meeting with yours the way they had when you two had dated all those years ago. He sighed softly, almost happily as he saw you weren’t rejecting him this time around. His hand reached for yours slowly, his touch gentle and delicate, as if he was trying purposefully not to scare you away. He smiled softly as you allowed him to hold your hand, your lack of resistance giving him a glimmer of hope that you might have somehow found a way to forgive him. You would feel yourself wearing down against him, your cold, frozen exterior towards him melting away as he gently held your hand.

“Willard,” you frowned slightly as you looked down at his hand holding yours, trying to ignore the fact that your hand fit perfectly in his.

“Darlin’ I’m willing to do anything to prove to you that I’m not going to break your heart again if you give me the chance. I’ve spent the last five years realizing that those big dreams and aspirations I had in college weren’t going to come true without you. I never did make it out of college football, I never ended up travelling or leaving Georgia like I said I would, but, I mean, I do decently well for myself. When you left I realized you were what made me happy though - not travelling or football, or workin’ on cars. You. And when I didn’t have you to do all these things I’d dreamed of with, well, none of them seemed worth doin’ anymore.”

 You sighed softly as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. You looked up at him, meeting those gorgeous hazel eyes you’d always loved, tears welling up in your own as you gave an understanding nod of your head. 

“Now, there’s my sweet lil’ Georgia peach,” he smirked as he stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. 

A rush of memories and a sense of familiarity came rushing over you as he spoke, calling you by the pet name that always made you weak in the knees years ago. You shook your head quickly as you tried to shake the feeling of nostalgia that was overtaking you.

“I should get going.” Your voice was soft-spoken, partially feeling guilty as you spoke.

Willard swallowed hard and nodded his head, trying to not sound defeated. He gestured his hand outward, pointing towards the street, forcing a hearty laugh and a big smile as he spoke.

“Yeah, might not wanna be late, your mama’d be so mad. Bet your sister wouldn’t be none too pleased either tho, would she?”

“No, I don’t suppose they would be. My sister’s party is supposed to start in,” You frowned as you looked at your watch and shook your head, “!5 minutes. Christ, I better start walking.”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll just drive you over. Sure your mama doesn’t want you wanderin’ your way around town to get home.”

You opened your mouth to argue but quickly closed it again. You knew he had a fair point, and you’d never make it there in 15 minutes by walking. Smiling, Willard opened the door of his truck for you, gesturing to the front seat for you to hop inside. You jumped up into the seat and nodded slowly as Willard took your bag out of your temporarily non-functioning car for you, placing it in the back. He climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key over, the engine making its unique sputtering sound as it roared to life, the old engine sounding like it was clinging to life by a thread. 

“You know, I could fix ‘er, but I just…I dunno, the sound is sort of nostalgic for me, ya know? It’s comforting,” He chuckled.

You rolled your eyes and laughed as he drove towards your parents house. You directed him along the way, but once he found himself in the familiar neighbourhoods he used to drive through to pick you up all those years ago, he didn’t need your navigation skills anymore. He smirked as he pulled up out front of your parents’ home, watching as you hopped out of the truck. He raised an eyebrow as the crowd of your family members that was congregating outside of your garage. Willard waved politely to them, recognizing a few of their faces from family functions he’d accompanied you to years ago. He parked his truck and hopped out, smiling as he looked over to you.

“I take it you never did tell your mama the truth about why we broke up, did ya?” He whispered to you as your mom waved to him from the garage.

“No, I didn’t want to her to go sharpen her pitchfork to come after you with,” You smirked at him and shrugged your shoulders, “You’re welcome.”

As you came up closer to your family, you felt Willard put his hand gently on your back. Turning to you, he smiled softly and whispered in your ear gently.

“Sorry, just trying to make it seem like we didn’t quite break up as badly as we did,” he nodded as he let out a soft chuckle.

You nodded slowly in agreement and smiled at your family members as Willard joined you. He laughed as your dad wrapped an arm Willard’s shoulders, pulling him in to talk for a moment, as he would have with an old friend. Willard gave you an apologetic smile as he shrugged, not realizing that your family would have missed his presence so much. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

A few hours later, Willard was still hanging out at the party, unable to make a quick getaway as your family members wanted to hear about all the things he’d done over the last five years. In a way, you were glad they were so welcoming towards him once again, happy to see that he was still considered family by your loved ones. You couldn’t help but notice the butterflies you got every time you saw him smile or laugh while he spoke, like he was genuinely enjoying himself, it showed to you that what he had said earlier about missing you had been completely heartfelt. 

As everyone started to head out, you met Willard on your parents front porch, smiling softly as he held your hand again under the warm glow of the porchlight beside the door. You could feel the gaze of your family members peering through the curtains at you, all secretly and silently hoping that one of you would give a sign that you were rekindling what you’d once had together. 

“Thanks for letting me stick around, I missed seeing everyone, I missed how nice your folks are,” Willard nodded, smiling brightly at you, his cheeks turning pink as he spoke.

“I don’t think they would have given me the option to send you home without staying, to be fair.”

There was an awkward silence in the air between you two as Willard’s eyes met yours. He bit his lip softly and laughed, shaking his head, his dark brown curls becoming perfectly tossed, his discarded baseball cap shoved into his back pocket from when he sat down for dinner earlier. 

“You know, I really wanna kiss you right ‘bout now.”

“Strangely enough, you’re kinda making me wanna kiss you right ‘bout now too,” you teased.

With that, Willard put his hands on your waist, pulling you in close for a kiss. His lips were soft, with a sense of hunger and passion added to the chemistry between you. You could tell just by how his lips met with yours that he’d been craving this for the last five years. That he’d wanted nothing more than to hold you close and kiss you under the porchlight like had so many times before. And if you were being honest, you’d craved it too all these years, as much as you hated to admit it.

“So, where does this leave us then?” You raised an eyebrow at him, “‘Suppose I can’t hate you anymore if I’m letting you kiss me like that, now can I?”

“Don’t suppose you can, sweetheart. Looks like you may have to agree to datin’ me again?”

“Is that so?”

“Now come on, my lil’ Georgia peach, don’t make me get on my knees and beg you to take me back in front of your folks. You know I will.”

You laughed softly and pressed your lips to his again, murmuring into the kiss as your lips touched. 

“Come ‘ere, country boy,  you’re mine now.”

#footloose fic #willard hewitt x reader #willard hewitt #2011 footloose #miles teller fic

[faithintheunknownsblog]

Plant Dad Alucard

I feel like Alucard would think he’s a plant dad

Like he thinks he good at taking care of plants, but they die way too fast

I feel like the scenario plays out like this:

- You buy a plant then forget about it, and it starts to wilt

- Alucard waters it ONCE and thought it was nice taking care of it

- Eventually you notice and find it absolutely adorable, but keep your comments to yourself because you don’t want to ruin it for him

-But Alucard doesn’t know what he’s doing

- He waters it everyday, not knowing he’s doing more harm than good

- You don’t have the heart to tell him he’s doing it wrong, so instead you devise a plan

- You buy SEVEN new plants that are identical to the one he’s currently killing taking care of, switching them out everyday. Now each one only gets watered once a week

- You have to find another room that Alucard doesn’t care enough to go in to hide these plants

- But do you know the problem with having them all identical?

- You forget which one is which

- So to help remember you make what you think are unnoticeable marks on the pot’s rim

- And they go unnoticed for MONTHS

- Then one day Alucard looks closely at his plant and notices the marks

- He thinks nothing of it at first

- But another day when he looks at the plant again, he notices the marks aren’t the same as before

- He starts checking them everyday, and notices the different marks everyday

- So Alucard waits and catches red handed, carrying that day’s plant into the room to switch them out

“What are you doing?” He asks right as you replace one plant with the other.

Oops

Bustedddddd

- You come clean and tell him everything

- Alucard stays silent for a moment and you get nervous

“Baby, I’m sorry,” you tell him, scared that he’s mad at you. Not scared in the ‘he is going to hurt me’ way, it’s in the ‘I hurt him’ way.

- But when he walks over to you, wraps his arms around you in a big hug and gives you a forehead kiss, all your worries are washed away.

- Alucard loves and appreciates you more than you can ever fathom. He can’t imagine a more perfect person for him.

- Now he has eight plants to take care of, and he waters them each once a week

- He is so happy doing it too, because they’re living things that he’s never tempted to harm because they don’t piss him off or bleed

- And the look on his face is PRICELESS when he notices flower buds, he gets so excited

- It’s too bad you didn’t get to see it because he keeps the flowers a secret from you

- You get so confused when one day- without any explanation- Alucard just won’t let you anywhere near the room the plants are in

- You can ask ‘why’ all you want, but you never get an answer

- That’s until he surprises you one day with a beautiful bouquet of flowers

- You both have no idea what type of flowers they are, but you couldn’t care less. You love them

- And when Alucard sees how much you love the flowers, he wants a whole green house after that, just so he can give you flowers all year long

Alucard can be the best plant dad in the world if you just give him the chance

#Alucard is now a plant dad #alucard x you #alucard headcanons #alucrd #alucard fanfiction #hellsing ultimate #hellsing #alucard hellsing #hellsing fandom #alucard #hellsing fanfiction #hellsing alucard #alucard x reader #hellsing x reader

[mybeautifuldelirium]

Centuries Apart part 5 ||Aemond Targaryen x got!reader

CHAPTER LIST

A/N: hey my loves I’m back from London so finally here’s the promised part 5 💚

Ty for being patient with me

Summary: The dreaded wedding day has at last come upon

Warnings: ANGST, kinda NSFW, 18+ slight smut at the end

“Kostā daor va moriot ruaragon aōla hen nyke, ñuha dārilaros” (you can’t hide yourself from me forever, my prince) Y/N whispered as she got up and headed towards the doors. Winning Aemond’s heart wasn’t going to be an easy task but that night she had seen a side of him no one ever had.

-

The one eyed prince’s mind raced throughout the night, each time he closed his eye, the image of her face would replace the blackness before him. That deep violet stare that kept piercing through his own, at the merchant streets of the capitol, at the feast among the noble houses,…in his chambers…while she bathed him.

There was something about her, something that was slowly luring him in, something that Aemond couldn’t quite figure out. Yes, she was some sort of a ‘Targaryen’, he thought, she looked the part at least, but a long descendant of his house? No, ‘twas impossible, a bastard, a witch perhaps? The young prince tossed and turned in his bed, searching for a comfortable position, but found none that could soothe his racing thoughts.

“I did try to warn you, didn't I, my prince?”

“Damn it!” Aemond sat up, letting out a sigh of frustration, he had to find a way to silence her voice in his head or risk losing his sanity, but no, first he had to figure the truth out, figure her out.

-

The following days passed swiftly and uneventfully, like leaves caught in a gust of wind. The sun kept rising and setting with monotonous regularity, casting long shadows that stretched across the Crownlands.

As the day of the dreaded union drew near, tension filled the air like a thick dark fog. The servants scurried about, preparing the feasts and decorating the halls, while the nobles gathered in the great hall, their eyes fixed on the looming specter of the wedding day.

Y/N was gazing at the spectacle of frenzy through her chambers’ window, dread swarming her heart. The preparations looked different than Dany’s wedding, no barbaric wails and cries of butchered animals, no crazed men beating up each other in hopes to grasp the nearest female being and no foul stench of fresh blood and yet somehow, this tranquility, this proper casualty, surrounding her union felt much more excruciating.

‘It’s the only way, it’s the only way’

The princess was then abruptly pulled out of her thoughts by the screeching sound of the heavy doors bursting open.

“Your grace” Y/N quickly composed herself, splattering on an insincere grin as she fell into a faint curtsy at the sight of Alicent.

“You can keep your formalities” the queen motioned her hand with an almost unnoticeable scoff “Look, I don’t know who you are nor what your true intentions are, but dare you harm my son or my family-”

“I promise to be an honorable wife to the prince your grace” something glistened behind those violet eyes and it was as if her words were dripping with honey “I’ll do my duty, to provide his grace with true born heirs and be forevermore by his side”

“Ready yourself, don’t keep the king and your betrothed waiting” Alicent narrowed her eyes, skirts shuffling as she walked out.

-

As Y/N stood before the mirror, looking over her reflection, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. Her fingers grazed the delicate lace and silk of her wedding gown, a masterpiece of craftsmanship indeed, adorned with intricate embroidery and shimmering beads. The gown was a vision of ivory and gold, threaded dragons weavered over the tightened bodice that was sucking the air out of her lungs. As she traced the meticulous details of her gown, memories flooded her mind. If honesty were needed, the princess never wished to marry, she was never meant to, it was Dany who took that burden yet years later…or more so centuries earlier, fate had a different plan.

‘It’s the only way, it’s the only way’

-

The sept was lavishly bedecked with banners of emerald and gold, fragrant blooms spilling forth from every corner.

Her eyes flickered over the opulence that surrounded her, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She had not asked for this union, but her mind burned with determination as each of her steps brought her closer to her fate.

A small smirk drew on her lips as her gaze locked with Aemond’s. Expressionless as ever, the young prince stood before her, staring through, as if trying to disregard her presence as the vows were set in stone.

-

The feast that followed was a marvel to behold, a riot of flavors and aromas that set the tongue and nostrils ablaze. The guests ate and drank with a fervor that belied the solemnity of the occasion, their laughter and chatter echoing off the high ceilings and walls of the great hall.

“Naejot īlva dīnilūks, ñuha valzȳrys” (to our union, my husband) Y/N lifted her goblet, violet eyes glistening underneath the warmth of the flickering flames of the candles.

“Rȳ mōrī emā jiōraton skoros ao jeldan, ñuha riña” (at last you’ve got what you wanted, my lady) the prince rolled his eye with a scoff.

“No, not even close, but I will do my prince, I will save my house” the bride smirked as she took a sip from the fragrant wine, earning herself yet another scoff.

“Enjoying your pretty little wife, huh brother” Aegon’s drunken laughter tore through the impending tension “Worry not, dear brother you ought to enjoy her fully now, may the bedding ceremony begin!”

Aemond groaned with frustration, grabbing his wife’s forearm, pulling her from the table “There’s no need for formalities, your grace” he mumbled as he dragged her out in spite of his brother’s whines of protest.

-

“Ouch! Hey! Loosen it up!” the princess grumbled as he led her to their now shared chambers “Ugh! Is this how one treats their wife?!”

“Would you have rathered me let all those hungered men tear these pompous silks off you?!” Aemond scoffed, abruptly releasing his hold, making her stumble to the bed.

“Oh how noble of you”

The prince groaned, ignoring the snarky remark as he fumbled with the ties of his breeches “Let’s just get this foolishness over with already”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she realized the implication of his actions, yet she did not let the dread linger on her face for too long. “Just like this?! And I thought the Dothraki were indifferent”

“What fantasy world are you living in?!” the prince grunted in exasperation as he pushed his breeches down to his knees, not bothering to discard the rest of his clothing “Do not expect more from me than my mere duty as a husband”

The princess had little to no time to take in the view, before her skirts were being gathered up to her waist.

“I’ll be as quick as possible, it’ll only take a minute” his voice softened for a moment as he stroked himself a few times before thrusting at once into her core, his head turning to the side as if in desperation to avoid her piercing gaze. Y/N’s face scrunched as her body tried to adjust to his size, knuckles going pale as she gripped at the silky sheets.

It wasn’t long before she felt her husband’s release, hardly a sound leaving his lips, he swiftly pulled his breeches up and stood from the bed.

“I’ll be in the library, get some sleep” the prince mumbled as he headed towards the doors “Hopefully this has done it”

“Oh this has not ‘done it’, dear husband” Y/N mumbled under her breath as she sat up, fixing her skirts, once he had left “You shall learn how to treat me, how to love me”

The sinister smirk returned to her lips as she laid back down on the soft bed “You shall see just how far I’m willing to go to fulfill what I came for”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #house of the dragon fanfiction #Spotify

[seraph-of-sizes]

Broken Homes of Different Sizes pt2

Borrower Lyney and Lynette, Human Freminet (Slight au with borrowers existing, everything else is the same as canon)

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

Freminet was exhausted.

When the House of the Hearth had changed hands, he thought it to be of no consequence to him. He would just follow the orders of the new caretaker and vanish into the background again.

Wrong.

The new caretaker was a literal Harbinger. Number Four, the Knave.

Honestly he could admit to himself that the first impressions of her left him terrified. The way she spoke, how she held herself. She was so confident in a way Freminet could never imagine for himself. 

She had spent the time to meet with each orphan within the Hearth personally, and his meeting with her had been the most stressful encounter he had to date. Not even watching his claymore drip with the blood of his targets held a candle to the focus he had to have to maintain his composure.

She had reduced his tasks to simple espionage. The blood he was used to was now replaced with fake prop blood. He was placed behind enemy lines as a helpless child that needed to be taken care of. It still had orders to follow, but now he had to navigate social situations as well. Intel gathering was alright, but that meant speaking to people.

So he would usually spend hours in the oceans to clear his mind before returning home, or on especially exhausting days he would skip the trip and go straight home. 

But spending more time in his home, he began to notice things. What he had originally chalked up to mice was more… methodical. Planned out, paper wasn’t chewed up but cut cleanly. Small slits in food bags that were practically unnoticeable, which should have been more obviously ripped. 

It reminded him of some older fairytales about creatures called Borrowers.

He almost ignored it, if there were borrowers here they were just trying to lives their lives, just like him. But he couldn’t help the small curiosity in his heart as he reread all of his books on the tiny race. It was the one thing he began to look forward to. 

He started buying more foods, stuff he could leave out for them, but it also meant he was eating better than he had in a while. His own health became a side thought  when completing an order after all.

It was after a horrible day where he had disappointed Father that he saw them for the first time. He had performed his task perfectly, however while returning to the Hearth to report back he had been attacked by some Treasure Hoarders.

He was already tired from his mission, and it was one that required him to leave his claymore at the Hearth. All he had to defend himself was a knife and his vision.

He yelped as an arrow lodged into his shin as he jumped off of a cliff and dove into the water. To avoid them following him or tracking him he would have to swim far past the meeting spot. He grumbled softly as he realized he would have to emerge from the water, dress his wound, and still trek for 10 minutes to the spot.

He was going to be late for certain.

“I’m disappointed in you, Freminet.” He hid his flinch at The Knave’s silent jeer. “Late and injured because you let your guard down.”

He swallowed roughly, keeping his mouth firmly shut. After all, machines do not speak unless they are told to.

“Hm. I suppose you have been working quite diligently. Take a week to rest, perhaps I’ve pushed you too far with all of these tasks back to back.” She hummed. “You are dismissed.”

“Yes Father.” He bowed and carefully walked away, only to nearly collapse once he was out of her sight. He placed a hand to his chest and could feel his heart fluttering like a bird trapped in a cage. He took deep breaths as he retrieved his claymore, aptly named ‘the Bell’ for its likeness to a clock, one that could be cranked to chime on certain hours.

The trek to his ‘house’ was a slow one, he took his time, but stuck to alleyways since he still had some fake blood still caked on his skin. He winced as he noticed his wound had bled through the gauze and was leaving a trail of red behind him.

He picked up his pace. The sooner he could get home, the sooner he could wash up and redress his leg.

He fumbled with his keys before walking into the empty home. Perhaps he could make some sort of perpetual music box to fill the silence.

He leaned his claymore against the wall and collapsed onto his couch. He knew he should get cleaned up as soon as possible, but his mind was forcing him to feel all of the emotions he had repressed from the day. 

He stared into space, trying desperately to lock them all back into a tiny box, then throw away the key. But the damn box wouldn’t stay closed!

“Father said I mustn't cry…” He whispered, tears pooling in his eyes, no matter how long he held them open. A choked whimper left his throat as the first tear fell, then another.

He tried. Really he did.

At least he knew better than to cry loudly, the silent tears were accompanied by an occasional hiccup, but after a few moments they were forced back. 

A gentle ticking made him sigh as he wiped his face. He slowly stood up and turned towards the kitchen to get a quick snack before his wash.

His eyes widened in shock as the soft gasp that came from what looked like a tiny girl, stood shock-still on his countertop. Panic response in crisis, Fight, Flight, Fawn, Freeze.

She was obviously the Freeze type.

“H-hello?” He greeted awkwardly, taking a slow step forwards. Just as he was going to introduce himself a hiss left him as the sharp pinprick of pain that brought all of his attention back to the wound on his leg.

He blinked as he watched the girl race off, aided by anemo somehow. It wasn’t until he noticed the ousia residue from her attack as it reacted with his neuma alignment that he realized she must have a vision.

Which was almost more startling that discovering her in the first place. After all visions are given out by Celestia, so therefore the heavens must view Borrowers as people.

Ugh, his head was starting to ache, and his leg was starting to burn. He glanced down only for his eyes to widen as the small arrow buried in his leg, the fletches of the arrow smoking from Pyro infusement.

So there are two.

Mulling over that thought, Freminet removed the tiny arrow, placing it on the counter. He then went and cleaned himself off, redressed his leg with proper bandages, even ate some restorative medicine.

Once that was done he returned to the main room, his curiosity eating at him. He had to figure out more about his roommates before it would let him sleep. The fact it felt like a recon mission has nothing to do with it.

Slowly he denoted every possible entry and exit point, and multiple holes in the walls. After thoroughly memorizing it all, he began to try to locate their built spaces in the walls. Echolocation wasn’t just for bats, a lot of marine life used something similar. Sharks, whales, and more.

Freminet frowned as he walked to the other side of the massive bookshelf. Another knock confirmed his suspicions.

Carefully he pulled the massive paperweight away from the wall, grinning triumphantly as he heard the pitch of the knock change dramatically.

Found them.

#genshin g/t #g/t #genshin impact g/t #g/t writing #sfw g/t #tiny!lyney #tiny!lynette #Broken home au

[tjodity]

OK. SO parfait hannah.

Y’know how changelings are fae babies switched at birth with human ones? They’re supposed to die instantly to make parents grieve but Hannah is a changeling that was saved by modern medicine. And raised looking COMPLETELY human. She was unaware that she was a fairy still wearing the skin of a dead girl. Even if she did have weird nature connections. Wild animals are super frightened of her and plants grow multiple times faster when she’s around them. And the older she grew the less human she looked. Her teeth started sharpening, her tailbone was growing more SEGMENTS and her toes grew longer. Y’know little things that would be completely unnoticeable to everyone except her. It made her feel very alien and strange. Anyway after the egg takes hold of her it basically breaks through the spell keeping her looking like a human. Being changed as a newborn she will never ever be able to regain her fairy form but now she’s very noticeably inhuman. With a tail and root like veins so prominent on her legs and back. She had wings for a while too but we know how that goes….. she also gains a new digit on each appendage. Leaving her with 12 fingers and it’s extremely hard for her to adjust to them!! For a while she has a hard time picking up a spoon let alone a sword…. :( she has not told her parents of this either. (I’m also debating whether or not the baby she replaced should still be alive, Hannah is just a doppelgänger and this human girl that looks exactly like her is living in the woods raised by Fae. The life hannah was SUPPOSED to have.)

OH MY GOOODDD

I read this last night but was too tired to respond. This is so cool!! It fits in really well with her canon feelings of guilt and not belonging, while also incorporating her fairy lore in a really cool way! I don't know if I even have anything to add this is just such a neat backstory. I always wondered why you drew her with those vine things on her back. This is great!

#hannahxxrose

[sadsayu]

s/o gets anxiety attacks - diluc ragnvindr x reader

A/N! tysm for requesting! sorry that this one is kind of short haha

WARNINGS! anxiety attacks, not proofread (i’ll do if later i promise 💀 i just wanted to get this posted asap)

they/them pronouns for reader.

blood pounded in your ears. your hands shaking, vision distorted as you moved your legs towards your stomach and wrapping your arms around them- nails digging into your palms to the point that trickles of blood spilled out slowly.

you pressed your head into your knees as you choked on your own sobs.

you felt like your throat was closing up, like you couldn’t breathe anymore, your chest feeling like it was going to explode.

you felt like you were dying.

this made you cry even harder, the hold on your legs tight enough to break your bones. hot flashes were quickly replaced with chills. you screamed at yourself to calm down- but it only made things worse.

“(y/n)?” your boyfriend said, walking over to you carefully. “hey, do you need to be alone?”

you didn’t want him to leave, but your throat closed in on itself- muscles being weighed down as you tried to reach out for him, to ask him to stay.

you shook your head, it was almost unnoticeable, but diluc must’ve seen it because he sat down next to you.

his hands hovered against your arms, “may i?”

you nodded and felt him gently loosening the grip on your legs, moving your knees from your head.

then, he wrapped his arms around you, letting you continue sobbing into his shoulder as he whispered comforting words into your ear.

slowly, you calmed down.

he smiled, a warm smile that was only ever seen by you, moving your face from his soaked shoulder and gently wiping your tear-stained cheeks.

you felt even more drained than before as he laid you down on your bed. he brought you a glass of water and something for you to eat as he cleaned the blood from your palms.

“i’m sorry” you muttered, looking into your lap.

“for what?”

“making you do this for me.” you responded.

diluc gently placed your hand down and lifted up your face, staring into your puffy eyes.

“i do this because i care about you- because i love you. and i will never stop loving you- so please,” he kissed your lips, “don’t apologize.”

© sadsayu 2022

TAGS!

#genshin comfort #diluc x you #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x gender neutral reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc imagines

[just-a-tiny-goldfish]

Oh worm?

“So do you?”

You turn to her, skin glowing warm and dark from the setting sun, an inviting temptation. You just barely suppress the frown wanting to form on your lips, envious, your own tanned skin all gray and cold undertones in comparison, subdued and unnoticeable next to her. Would yours look as warm and inviting if you could feel the sun as often as her? As freely and carelessly as her?

It's not fair. Even with the added warmth would people even want to be around you like they do her?

You’re scared of that answer.

You can’t stop the frown this time.

She’s holding out the bottle to you, you make it a point not to let your eyes stray to her lips. Those full and perfect in shape lips. Even without any lipstick they always looked photo ready, you have no qualms that your own thin bitten and chapped lips would never compare. You make sure to keep your eyes off how hers glisten after having taken a swing of the bottle, to not notice the stray drop that slides down her chin before she brings up the back of her hand, clumsy and probably more drunk then either one of you would like to admit, to wipe it off- you make a point not to watch.

Not to watch.

Instead you look to her eyes, dark, sticky tar can’t look away, sinking, waiting on you. You better think fast, do you wanna keep drinking? She's not a patient woman, better give her an answer. Before she decides for you.

Hate it when they decide for you.

No, you don’t want to drink. Not really. Hate the effects, brings back too many memories of similar cloudy, too vulnerable, open, feelings. Aware and unaware of your surroundings.

Taste doesn’t make it anymore appetizing. Any alcohol really, you don’t understand why people like the stuff so much, when tooth decaying sugar is within arms reach.

When she first opened up the bottle, she’d presented it to you with a dramatic bow, at your unimpressed expression she had gone on to explain- no, to convince you “You’ll like this one! Trust me, It’s not like what we usually drink, this one isn’t complete shit” her grin was so sure, so excited, and you had promptly wiped it clean off her face when you spit the tequila right back out.

“You didn’t even taste it!” She’d whined, while you doubled over, tried to keep the coughing at bay. In all honesty, you had tasted it and it in fact had not been complete shit as she had so adamantly stated- actually the tequila was fine, dandy even. As dandy as alcohol could ever really be. what made you spit the contents in your mouth straight out onto the hot and cracked dirt of this nowhere parking lot was when you relized the fucking worm at the bottom of the godamn bottle.

Exaggerated frown and an earful on how many people would die to be in your shoes right now, you highly doubt that. Not just anyone can afford tequila this good, and here you are spitting it out, the whole time shaking her head down at you ‘I’m not mad just disappointed’ absolutely pouring out of her.

That’s when you had shoved her. Maybe too rough, still don’t know when to rein in those fighting muscles–not accustomed to having to rein them in.

Eyes wide as she scrambled to keep a hold on the bottle before it could topple over, you suppose those hero reflexes can come in handy. Personally, the glare she shoots your way had no right to be there, who’s trying to poison who here?

“Ay no mames Julia! There’s a fucking worm in there?!”

Frown promptly leaving her face to be replaced by a grin, a grin.

“Yeah!”

The fucking audacity. Should have shoved her harder. Knocked some sense into that static blank channel head of hers.

“Orellia! That’s the best part!”

“What the fuck do you mean the best part?”

“Well, it’s supposed to get you really drunk really fast. I used to fight my tíos over it back when I actually had free time!”

The look you give her must have told her exactly what you thought of that confession because if even possible that grin stretches even wider.

“Well, you don’t have to fight me for it” you’d still been staring at that little shriveled up maggot, pale and almost as yellow as the tequila it rested in, and just as appetizing too you had thought, when you had felt rather than seen how she had slid over closer to you, shoulder bumping against yours hard enough to jostle your attention back over to her.

“Don’t worry” she’d slid the backpack she’d been hauling around the whole afternoon over to you, unzipped you could see why the fucker had been so heavy, almost made you lose your balance while riding behind her, you’d threatened to just let the damn thing go if she didn’t slow down on the curves, you swear that bitch must like you digging your nails into her, you hope you left bruises, indents, little purple blotches, have her flounder for an explanation to whatever boy toy she had dragging around nowadays. The poor bag was filled to the brim with similar bottles, you could feel your face pinch in disgust when you noticed how each one had its own little friend at the bottom.

Great.

“We won’t have to fight”

Great.

Snap out of it- blink stare at the bottle she’s holding out to you.

“Yeah I guess I’ll help you finish this one” supress the urge to roll your eyes at yourself, like you haven’t been saying the same thing to the last few bottles.

“Hey”

You hear her, but she can wait this time, fuck her impatience. Close your eyes and take another swing before answering.You grimace, you tell yourself it’s because of the taste not because you're hyper aware of the worm in there. It had been easier to ignore after the third bottle in. Still pretty gross, you finally answer her.

“Hey”

“Okay so-“ she cuts herself off, turns her attention away from you, worrying her lower lip. “Don’t take this in a weird way” that gets your attention.

Why say that? Now you’re definitely going to take it in a weird way.

Bump the bottle against her arm, hand it over to her. She doesn’t hesitate to grab onto it, a little too urgent in her movements, you don’t have the time to maneuver your hand out of the way, she’d grabbed onto the neck in the process grabbing your hand too. It’s awkward, trying to let go, and she doesn’t make it easier. She could have made this easy, just grabbed it with her other free hand, instead she laughs at your poor attempt of trying not to drop it, amused- too much alcohol equals poor coordination the liquid splashes up and over, onto skin, sticky, you frown down at your hand before licking it up-no water around, why bother to bring any? No thoughts around either you suppose, because you act too fast- warm wet tongue swiped over your hand, still holding the bottle, the same bottle also being held by Julia. Your tongue passes too rapid fast and yet not quick enough, over your own hand and before you realize it over hers as well. You don’t realize what you’ve done at first, too caught up in trying to clean up the spill, but Julia’s sharp gasp kicks your brain into gear- you recoil, hand letting go, burning far worse than the alcohol in your throat, screw trying not to drop the stupid thing.

Luckily for you both, Julia’s brought her other hand up, as she should have from the beginning, you can’t help but think-and she manages to set it down. No accidents.

“Sorry I-” it’s fast and slightly panicked.

“No-No, haha” her reply almost as fast as yours, “It’s fine! Just-just wasn’t expecting that” her face is dark, wearing an expression you can’t quite interpret either. If you were an optimist you might say it’s a smile of some kind, but you’re a realist so you’ll call it what it is, a grimace.

Nervous laugh of your own “You wanted to ask me something right?”

“Yeah, so-“ another small laugh from her before she grabs the bottle again, tips it back, fast, before turning to you- grab it, no weird hand holding this time, you make sure of it. Take a big swing of your own.

“Have you ever kissed a girl?”

What the fuck, you almost spit out the tequila before forcefully swallowing in between coughs, get out a frantic“No!” too fast, urgent, she looks at you eyes wide and worried, you're still trying to get the coughing, burning, in your throat to recede, you can feel the heat of it in your nose, the whole while your mind racing- back up, back track, fix it, fix it, fix it “ I-l mean I’m not g- I’m not into gi-“ shit, hack up your lungs “Well- I, I haven’t really kissed anyon-“

you don’t finish your sentence, this time it’s not the coughing that interrupts but her, loud and delighted and most importantly distracted, you thank the universe quietly.

“Me estés mintiendo guey, There's no–”

“Don't call me that! I gave you a name for a reason! Use it!”

“Perdón perdóname! Sorry-“ can barely get the words out over her laughter “You’re too good for that, right? My bad” holds her hands up placentingly but she doesn't look sorry at all “But really? You've never kissed anyone? Like c’mon not even when you were little”

You didn’t have a little. Turn from her. Grateful that whatever brought on that question was avoided but now you start to feel that little green monster you always feel around her. Why does she get to have everything? Everything she wants- everything you want.

The glare you shoot her only seems to fuel her delight, taken as playful rather than a telling of harsher and far more real feelings you rather keep a tighter rein on, turning from you in an attempt to muffle her laughter. You turn too, before you let your actions get the better of you, think before you act, the cracks in the dirt are far more interesting right now. Pick at the soft grass, pull it from the roots, maybe dig your nails a little too harshly into the hard earth not amused with her amusement. Why does it feel like it’s always at your expense.

You dont notice when the laughter stops– must have been quiet too long because when you hear her speak up again it's soft and easy, with no trace of that teasing you two grab onto like a lifeline.

“I mean… it’s okay, it just… It just means your not easy right!” she shoots you a wink at the end of that. Trying to smooth it over, maybe ashamed at her response, you know enough about her to understand as much. It still pisses you off.

It would have been better to just chuck the whole conversation away and start clean, but she has to be worried about your feeling, your reaction. Why does that anger you so much? Why does she care. What does she want?

They really think you're going to fall for that false care again.

There’s always a catch. Cause and effect. Every action has consequences, you decide if they’re going to be good or bad.

A defense falls from your lips before you can reel it in.

“Unlike you huh? At least I value myself” fast, biting, sharp, and you regret it as soon as it comes out. Still don’t know when to keep your mouth shut do you? You should know by now-should know how to be a good d-.

Your shoulders hunch in anticipation because yeah, she might be bigger and have more muscles, pin you down, hurt you, no problem, you’re still faster. Even with those giraffe legs of hers, have to be. Ears are pin focused on any sound that might give her movement away because god you’re not brave enough to look up at her, at them. Never were. But then you hear her laugh again, crystal clear and loud.

“Ouch! Damn, fair point”

That’s right. You’re allowed to say things like that now. Encouraged. You look at her, her smile relaxed, she's leaned back on her arms, has to look up at you this time. You have the high ground. You feel yourself relax further, does she know how intimidating her height can be–how you make it a point to always try and find a higher perch. Out of her reach. Doesn’t matter how big she is compared to you if they can’t grab you.

“Why don’t you just get it over with?”

Huh?

“What are you going on about now old woman?”

You catch the subtle scrunch of her nose at the remark and you definitely catch that eye roll, a smile of your own emerges.

“Why don’t you just get it over with? Your first kiss”

She shrugs, a little too aggressive in her movement, almost falling, probably all the alcohol finally hitting her.

“Didn’t you just say that would make me easy” you raise your eyebrow at her. The hypocrite.

“Nah” easy smile “Nothings easy with you” she scoots over, awkward with the way she’s positioned, bumps her head soft against your arm.

“Besides no one would say no to you” and god she’s wagging her brows at you, and why does that make you want to punch her?

“You’re cute enough”

Shove at one of her arms, harsh, you don’t think– you just act, clumsy from the tequila; those hero reflexes don’t help her now as she tumbles back.

“Vete ah la verga Julia”

Her laugh is the only response you get.

After she goes quiet you reach out a hand for her to take, you’re not a complete little shit no matter how often she likes to call you that, and pull her back up to your side. A laugh of your own escapes once you realize her whole back is covered in dust and dirt; grass, and all sorts of wind blown garbage has stuck to that thick hair as well. Should have braided it when you first sat down, no way you have the coordination for it now. You reach over and run your hands through it, long and soft, sharp contrast to your own short bob thing, tried to make it look cute by cutting bangs in- no one told you never to cut your own bangs, never been more grateful for that stupid sidestep mask you wear, wouldn’t show your face around the rangers for a good while after that. Temper down the envy as your hands get to a knot- instead of yanking like your mind urges, you take note of Julia’s subtle flinch, scared you’ll pull it? Not the first time you’ve just torn your hand threw a particular tangled section, what’s the matter sparkles? Did that hurt? Like you didn’t know- like that wasn’t your intention, yet she never moves away; and regardless of your aggressive tugs she never returned the favor when messing with your own, always too gentle- baby braids barely staying in with how loose she would make them, because of that you bring up your other hand, undo the small knot, shake out what debris you can from her dark mane and pat it back down, gentle.

You want to be gentle.

You run your hands through her hair a few more times before glancing towards her face, her eyes are trained on you, there’s that expression again, the one you can’t interpret, it would be so much easier if you could just take a peek inside that head of hers. Instead you bring back your hands, you’ve been around her too long, becoming more physical than you ever thought you could be, before you know it you’ll be hugging strangers too. Picking up too many of her mannerisms.

No longer distracted by her hair you realize how the two of you have shifted closer, easier for you to reach her, you also take note of how late it’s gotten, looking up- the sun can barely be seen, sky is more violet blue then that striking orange pink line on the horizon- the heat is bearable. The dusk is quiet.

You can’t tell if the silence is comfortable–too used to relying on the other person's state of mind. Should you say something? The longer you wait the heavier the quiet becomes, oppressive in a way it wasn’t before, in the way you swear you can hear your own heartbeat, it’s quiet in the way that suddenly you are aware of how you can hear her breathing– too fucking close she had shifted and was all but leaning on you now and the way she’s looking at you in this quiet is so loud.

Yeah you’re definitely breaking this quiet.

“I guess it would be nice to get it over with…l-” you feel like your mouth has gone dry, why break it with that? look at your hands, your nails have dirt on them “I don’t know who I would ask though…” trying to get it off, they’re short, chewed up, makes it hard for you to really get under the- and her hand goes over it. Her hand is calloused, rough, but the touch itself is so much more gentle then most touches you’re used to. For some reason that makes it land harder, it takes everything in you not to flinch.

“I guess I don't really know that many people… right now- I mean…” you finally look at her frustrated, your voice has gone low in a whine embarrassed “fuck, right now I just really know anathema and you and-” nope! You guess besides some of the other rangers, that’s really it for ‘friends’, isn’t it? “…thats it” Barely loud enough, your not sure she would even hear it but she must have because she’s smiling at you and it’s so soft and warm but it doesn’t compare to the arm that she’s brought around you, to the hand that’s now on your shoulder, urging you even closer to her, and if you thought her hand on your shoulder was warm you neatly jump at the heat of the one she lays on you thigh, when did she let go of your hand? However you do jump when she grips it, pulls in tandem with the one on your shoulder, trying to pull you flush to her, you hear the giggle she lets out and realize your gaze has been locked on her thighs that have finally become flush to yours, looking up to her you inhale sharp at her relaxed expression, her hooded eyes, how can she be relaxed when you feel like you’re about to faint? You think you might actually faint when you find your own expression beginning to mimic hers as you feel the hand on your shoulder once again begin to pull, pull you towards her, and god, should you do something with your own hands? Where to put them? Where to put them. You have protocols for this! Try to remember what's expected if you. Finally you decide to reach up and grab onto her own shoulders no point in it really, besides to ground you, but you’re grateful for it regardless when you take note of the smile on her face, you did good, you smile back, and then you grip-almost dig your fingernails into her shoulders as she pulls you, maybe she does likes when you dig your nails into her, your smile grows, you feel her pull you once more towards her face and-

Her phone rings and you and her jump.

Both of you acting like her emitters have gone off or something of equal force has happened you stare at her and she stares at you. Her face is flushed dark, it’s the tequila, your mind supplies, thats why yours is heated too. You’re drunk. Haha that’s it, you two are just drunk. Impulsive and stupid. Her phone rings again and that snaps both of you out of your wide eyed and shocked staring contest. She struggles a bit trying to find it in her riding jacket carelessly tossed to the side the second you two had gotten off the bike, too hot for anything other than a sport bra for her, you thought the setting sun had cooled the air but right now you feel far too hot for anything other than a sports bra yourself, sucks for you, tough it out.

Finally she manages to dig the brick out, mouth turning into a straight line when she takes note of who it is.

“It’s my boyfriend” there’s just barely a turn down at her lip before she looks over to you.

“Oh! You should-“ what the hell is wrong with you “you- you should answer it” you look away from her, not really sure what to do with yourself, your heart is beating too fast. Still trying to figure out just what the fuck that was.

“Yeah”

You hear her reply but the phone continues to ring, curious, you look back over to her, the phone continues its shrill chime but she just keeps on staring at you, god, what does she want? Why can’t you just read her.

You’re not sure, you’re never sure with her, your blood is still pumping and you can’t think straight there is one too many bottles on the ground.

You go to stand up and she follows- phone still ringing in hand, you’re not sure exactly what she’s doing, but regardless you turn from her and take a step- and almost fall down. Shit you really are drunk. Lucky for you, Julia is still close by, that annoying habit of hers. She catches you just in time, hand going around your arm, as annoying as you might find her sometimes, you're grateful you didn’t just eat dirt, with your balance caught, you expect her to let you go. Instead you feel her pull you towards her, you turn in confusion “what are you doing?”

She blinks at you owlishly, startled “Oh! I thought we- I- well…” you didn’t think it was possible but her cheeks darken even more, she must be real out of it too you think, she did end up being the one with the honor to eat the worms, the thought makes you shiver. Finally she seems to find her words “What exactly are you doing?”

“Umm, giving you privacy?” You turn to the phone in her hand, ringing quieted but now it’s at a constant buzz, text after text.

“It looks like your popular”

“I-oh, yeah, i guess your right” hand letting go of you, finally, its sheepishly brought to mess with the curls behind her head.

“Hey-“

“Yeah” you’re cut off by her fast reply, “ha, sorry sorry what did you want to say?” Embarrassed

“Just-“ you motion to her bike “ I think I’m gunna go home but, umm, I’ll figure something el-“

“Orellia no! No I-“ She steps forward too fast, stumbles, catches herself. You don’t move any closer to her, in fact, step back. just watch her struggle to not sway, catch her own balance. You’re tense.

“I’m pretty sure I would be safer not riding with you right now” smile at her, make her drop it “And you probably shouldn’t try to ride that thing back either”

“Well, fuck-Mira espartera” hand goes through her hair before being brought down over her face, “just hold on- I’ll call us something, I’ll pay-“ and the phone starts ringing again, you hear the barely audible maldita sea before she looks over to you again face in a grimace.

Smile again, disarm the situation, show her it’s fine “Sparkles it's okay” walk over, you must have swayed a little because it looks like she is barely holding herself back from reaching over for you again. God this was such a bad idea. “I had fun” Stay out of her reach. Look to the road, you had passed a gas station a few miles down, you could probably get someone to give you a ride- granted they wouldn’t remember it.

“No seas una pendeja Orellia, just hold o-“

You don’t really give her time to finish before you start walking, she’s a stubborn woman but so are you. No matter what you say they’ll try to refute you.

So there’s no point to it.

“Really?”

Hear her footsteps shuffle closer to you then you would like- fuck, is she really following you? Your heart rate spikes, body ready for a fight. Can't they just leave you alone?

“Orellia ya te dije!” Yeah so what? You feel your hands fist up at your sides. She’s not playing around anymore. Voice reprimanding, commanding. You hate when she does that.

Your teeth are clenched, hold back the snap, it’s not like you're a Ranger, she thinks she can order you around you? No ma’am, when you listen it’s cause you want to not because she’s in charge of you. Off that leash for a while now.

“C’mon I’ll call- ORELLIA!“

You break out in a run. You could hear her quick foot steps for a while longer before they stopped completely. You don’t. You were hoping for her to have quit sooner, couldn’t just keep chasing you and leave that precious bike of hers. And besides she hasn’t answered that boy toy of hers either, should probably get on with that. Don’t want to lose another one now do we? You don’t turn around to check on her, she can take care of herself. She’s not marshal for no reason.

And besides you got quite a ways to go before you get to that gas station.

#fhr ortega #julia ortega #Orellia becerra #Orellia is kinda mean #all that repressed anger am I right ladies #jealous little gremlin #I wanna ruin our friendship we should be lovers instead😘 #do you wanna be her or do her?

[mickmundy]

the writing post you reblogged reminded me of the time i raved to my friend about sniper and medic touching boots for half the bus ride (20 minutes of essentially "but dude bro no wait though dude"). not gonna ramble but i (clenches fist) i love when writers note specifically those sorts of moments, like the mundane small details that just happen in life that mean fuck all but now mean too much. so wasserballon was like. one of the prime examples of that. shit was on my mind for the rest of the week gaah. idk the first three parts of thou giveth fever might have replaced my hypothalamus - oldk

SCREAMS AND CRIES AND SOBS ;__; REALLY ARE YOU SERIOUS HOLY SHIT ;;;; that makes me SO unbelieveably happy, you have no idea!! ;;; i’m so glad to hear you like that kind of stuff, for me that’s where there’s Infinite Potential for romance… <3 there’s romance anywhere you care to make it, in the mundane, in the known, in the routine… <3 sighs fondly… AND A:SDFALDFMAL:SDFMA PELASEEEE I LITERALLY ALUGHED OUT LOUD AT THAT LAST PART S:DFLSDL:FSK:LSDK:F ILYYY YOU ARE TOO KIND!!!! ;___;

it makes me SO happy that you enjoy my series like that though, a huge part of it is highlighting that love can really happen anywhere, between anyone…. and that sometimes the circumstances that bring us together In Love are small and unnoticable, and you don’t really appreciate it until you feel the zing… but the zing has been there for so much longer than you ever thought… <3 HEHEHE!!! ILYYYYY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING ME THIS MESSAGE BC I REALLY GENUINELY LOVE HEARING FEEDBACK and being able to blab about my fic heh SO WUAAA THANK YOUUUU ;;; <333333

#asks #anonymous #thou giveth fever #;___; UWAAAAA

[saintlike78]

Panic [Poly Marauders]

Pairings: Poly! Marauders x fem! reader

Words: 2.6k

Summary: Throughout the day the reader feels the beginning of a panic attack, letting it build up and taking their frustration out on their three boys, leading them to punish them. The punishment is the final push toward the inevitable panic.

Warnings: brief NSFW (+16!), TW anxiety and panic attack, oral (m receiving), crying, panic attack, punishment, mention of anxiety-related nausea, loads of fluff at the end. As always lmk if I missed anything.

It started slowly, you weren’t sure why, you never really were. The slight clamminess of your palms, the subtle increase of your heart rate and the constant feeling of dread for what was to come - it was suffocating.

You’d gone to bed like normal, but laying there in Remus’ arms, you couldn’t find rest, your thoughts prancing all around your mind, leaving you anxious and awake, watching the hours pass by.

Waking up for classes, you were exhausted and still very much on edge; the lack of sleep and anxiety causing a sour mood to hang over you, your voice curter and your answers more snappy than usual.

All you wanted to do was be alone and gather yourself and calm down in your own space, not wanting your anxiousness to show.

But the alone time you desperately craved was never granted; your day having been filled with classes and your boyfriends in between classes, normally you wouldn’t mind spending all your time with them, but you could feel their agitation toward you as you throughout the day acted as, what they would perceive as a brat. You weren’t doing it on purpose, you could feel the dread and anxiety mix in your stomach leaving you nauseous and short-breathed.

___

“What’s with your attitude today, huh y/n?” Sirius made a point of using your name, none of them in the mood for your short temper.

“I don’t have an attitude, Sirius,” you sassed back, trying to ignore the bubbling of nerves that was building in your stomach.

You were utterly exhausted; having been on edge the entire day and you were in no mood for punishment or even a scolding for that matter.

Sirius crossed his arms over his chest as he scoffed, “you’ve been acting like a brat the whole day and you know it… so don’t sass me, pup.”

“You’re the one who’s been after me the whole day,” you crossed your own arms as you rolled your eyes - an action you would come to regret just as quick as you’d done it.

“Hey! Stop with that,” Remus stood from where he sat on the bed, walking to stand in front of you and taking your face in his large hand, forcing you to look up at him and making your false confidence falter.

“You really are looking for trouble, aren’t you? Well, lucky you, you’re in trouble now,” Remus squeezed your cheeks before grabbing you by the arm and hauling you toward the bed.

The anger you’d felt, the one causing you to act up, was replaced by fear and nerves, your stomach tightening in an unpleasant way. Your head was practically spinning, it felt as if you were floating or rocking on a boat, your head felt light and your heart beating rapidly inside your chest.

“No, I’m sorry,” you tried, your voice slightly shaky, but not noticeable to the three boys that surrounded the bed you had been thrown on.

“Bit too late for that now… should have thought of being nicer earlier,” Remus shook his head, his hands grasping your ankles and pulling you towards the end of the bed where he stood.

“I think since you think you have such a smart mouth, you can use it for something more useful on Jamie, hmm?” Remus tutted pulling you off the bed and down on your knees in front of them.

You just nodded, trying to keep in the tears that were threatening to spill, your eyes red and glassy; your breathing was picking up and the slow feeling of panic rose within you, but you tried to take unnoticeable deep breaths and calm yourself so you could take your punishment well and be done with it.

Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your skirt as James stepped out of his trousers and boxers, Sirius helping him unbutton his school shirt.

Remus sat behind you on the edge of the bed, grabbing your hair to keep your gaze set forward and your posture straight.

Your body was tense, your hands shaking slightly as James stepped in front of you in all his naked glory; under normal circumstances, your mouth would have watered along with the dampening of your panties, but now as your heartbeat increased in panic, it was a less than ideal place to be in.

“You’re gonna be good and take it… no more acting like a brat,” Sirius informed, seating himself beside Remus, waiting for you to start.

You slowly reached up, trying to keep your hands as still as possible, to grasp James’ half-hard cock, working it to full hardness.

A sigh of satisfaction left James’ lips, his head falling forward to stare down at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his stare, your mind crumbling all around you.

“Come on, I told you to use your mouth, bunny,” Remus pushed your head forward slightly, keeping his grip on the back of your head and leading your mouth toward James’ cock.

Your lips parted letting James lead his tip into your mouth. You were quickly reminded that it indeed was a punishment, James pushing his whole cock into the warmth of your mouth, hitting the back of your throat; you gagged around him at the sudden intrusion, earning yourself a disappointed ‘tsk’ from behind you.

James didn’t give you time to recover, snapping his hips and fucking into your mouth roughly with the help of Remus holding your head in place.

Tears were streaming down your face, a mixed result of being gagged and the deep panic that bled through you.

It was hard to breathe, all your focus was on relaxing your jaw and drawing in air from your nose; your shaky hands finding a place on James’ thighs to steady yourself and try to keep your hands still.

“Godric… fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum,” James moaned, his thrusts growing faster and more stuttered.

Your mind was racing, and you were thankful that James’ orgasm was close, yet you knew that this was far from the end, the boys were cross with you and were probably planning a longer punishment because this one had been rather easy, compared to what you were used to.

You could feel your lungs burning with the strain of drawing in the deep panicked breaths you were trying to take with James’ cock in your mouth, the displeasure was all you could focus on.

Only a minute passed before James let out a loud groan as he came down your throat, his hips thrusting slowly to work himself through the orgasm; you tried to swallow, but you sputtered and coughed as James pulled out, trying to gather air back into your lungs.

You were trying, but failing, to regulate your breathing, you felt faint, and your hands were shaking too much to hide, it felt like you were going to be sick.

Remus had let go of your head, so you turned around to face him, still on your knees; you grasped his hand in your trembling ones.

“Remmy…” your voice shook as you said his name, his eyes falling to yours and one eyebrow raised as he waited for what you had to say, confused as your hands shook around his.

“…Remmy… I think I-I’m having a panic attack,” you breathed out through hyperventilating breaths, tears gathered in your eyes, threatening to run over the tracks of tears already on your cheeks.

“Wha-… huh, bun?” he wasn’t expecting for you to say that his eyes flitting to James and Sirius as they looked at you confused and slightly concerned.

“I can’t catch my breath,” now the boys were very concerned, your laboured breaths loud and fast as you tried to fill your lungs with air, but obviously failing.

Remus was quick to stand from the bed, hooking his arms under yours to hoist you up to stand on your feet, he searched your wide blown eyes, but finding only panic and impending tears.

Sirius had stood from the bed as Remus did, he watched in panic at how you were panicking, not knowing what to do, but wanting to act fast.

Sirius grabbed your hands, pulling your attention to him, “okay, puppy, come now, deep breaths for us, follow mine.”

You stared at Sirius and tried to follow along with the deep breaths he was taking, a few frustrated sobs interrupting you, but Sirius didn’t falter - letting you take as long as you needed.

James had quickly found his boxers and put them on before standing behind you, a hand on the middle on your back and the other on your shoulder. The hand on your back he used to slowly rub up and down the expanse of your back, using what he knew to calm you and doing an excellent job at it.

You tried to control your breathing and match it to Sirius’, but the pounding of your heart made that nearly impossible, it was frustrating you and stressing you out even more.

“Come let’s sit, honey,” Remus seated himself on the bed and grabbed your waist to pull you down to sit on his lap.

He took your hand and placed it on his chest, keeping one of his on your back.

“Deep breaths, my love… there you go… doing such a good job,” it always surprised you how calm Remus could act in certain situations, even if you knew he was freaking out internally.

A couple of minutes passed in silence, your hand still on Remus’ chest as your breathing grew less rapid and your heart rate went down and was now just a faint thumping in your chest.

Sirius and James had sat beside yourself and Remus, waiting patiently, just being there for you.

It was your voice that pulled all their focus to you, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? You can’t help when they come, it’s not your fault, darling,” James said, referring to the panic attack, as he slowly rubbed your back.

“I know, but I still hate that I freaked you all out… and that I’ve been on edge the entire day and took it out on you, it’s not supposed to be like that,” your head dipped, the panic you had felt was replaced by guilt.

Remus used his finger to tilt your chin up, “honey, there’s no need to feel bad, we understand… but we want you to tell us when you’re feeling anxious so that we can help.”

You nodded, you knew he was right and that all they ever wanted was to help you through it and to be there for you.

You leaned forward to brush your lips against Remus’ causing him to smile softly before connecting your lips in a slow kiss.

Your lips moved slowly against each other, but you disconnected faster than either of you would have liked; you leaned toward Sirius with your lips puckered, he wasted no time in leaning in to get a taste himself, a small smirk playing on his lips as your lips met.

The kiss with Sirius was hungrier and faster, it was hard to stay balanced on Remus’ lap as you kissed the raven-haired boy beside him; Sirius kissed you like it was his power source.

His lips followed yours as you pulled apart, a displeased grunt leaving his throat, but you just giggled.

“Now it’s my turn,” James announced happily, not giving you a warning before you were pulled from Remus’ lap over to his own, his arms around you and his eyes staring into yours as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Hey! I didn’t know we were allowed to do that,” Sirius whined, crossing his arms over his chest.

James smirked, but shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “sometimes you just need to get creative, pads.”

You shook your head with a smile before connecting your lips with James’.

He held you tight against him, your fingers digging into the bare skin on his shoulder as his mouth worked hungrily against yours.

“Alright, I think it’s my turn again!” Sirius complained, leaning across Remus to grasp at your arm, but James tightened his grip on you; they fought for you as if you were a pretty doll, each of them wanting a turn playing with you.

Remus’ voice overpowered everything else, his voice of reason and calm enough to gain the focus of everyone, no matter where he was.

“Are you feeling better now, bunny?”

His hand slipped into yours, giving it a squeeze, a gentle smile formed and lighting up his entire face.

“Much better, Remmy… thank you, I love you,” you nodded with a smile of your own, squeezing his hand in response.

James hugged you tighter, burying his face in your hair and soaking up the heat from your body, feeling you relax against him.

“Do you want us to give you a bath, baby?” James’ muffled voice spoke through your hair.

There was no need for an answer, all you had to do was nod your head slightly for James to hook his arms under the bend of your knees and carry you to the bathroom with Sirius and Remus close behind him to help with your bath.

Sirius filled the tub as Remus searched the bathroom for different things to put in the bath, things to make it as relaxing as possible, even though he knew you would be happy with just the bubbles.

James kept you in his arms, even after you told him you had no problem standing, but he refused to let you down; he said that it was for your comfort, but in reality, it was an excuse to keep you against him for a while longer. James wouldn’t tell you, but he felt guilty, guilty for not noticing how you had been feeling or stopped the punishment, not even thinking about it; they all loved you and you were much more than just something to use for their pleasure, but James felt as if he’d used you and pushed you further down your spiral until you cracked – it felt like it was his fault.

He felt a slight bit of comfort just being able to hold you and care for you, praying that you wouldn’t hate him – even though he knew you could never.

___

The smell of lavender filled your nose, the warm water engulfing your body as James’ slender fingers massaged your shampoo into your hair. A sigh escaped you, your eyes forced shut by how relaxed you felt, you could practically fall asleep in the tub if you wanted but decided against it.

It was mostly James who cleaned you, practically shooing Sirius, and Remus away when they tried, so they opted to sit and observe instead, their calm voices adding to the relaxed atmosphere in the bathroom.

Sirius beat James to it with a towel when it was time for you to step out of the bath, smirking at James when he rolled his eyes but took a defeated step back to let Sirius dry you off and wrap his arms around your towel-clad figure.

Your body was clean and along with it, your mind. Lying in bed with the loves of your life, you felt safe, listening to their quiet voices lulling you to sleep, the fatigue finally catching up with you and encapsulating your mind.

“I don’t think I can stay awake much longer.”

“it’s okay, bunny, just sleep,” Remus whispered, pulling you closer against him, your eyes shut and breathing calm.

Small whispers of ‘goodnight’s’ and ‘I love you’s’ were the last you heard before you were pulled to dreamland.

Tags: @justadreamyhufflepuff, @teenwolfbitches28, @emma67, @trouble-in-space, @sciapod, @Kermiemoon, @autumnandwinteraesthetics, @roonilwazlibswhore, @sprucewoodlover, @blackandlupinsslut, @emmaev, @cedricisnotdead, @i-love-scott-mccall, @pretty-pop-princess-hs, @pottahishotasf, @velvetcloxds, @biles-bilinski-24, @methblinds, @lunaiswifey, @maraudersbijj, @samaraaaaa, @ildm4ev, @bellatrixscurls, @sabrinathesimp, @princess-jules47, @chanellewts, @remusjlupinisdead, @divanca2006, @dreamy-clousds, @sarahisslytherin, @katmoonz, @daedreamss, @dracomalfoysslut,

#poly!marauders x reader #poly marauders x reader #poly marauders smut #poly marauders #marauders x reader #marauders fluff #marauders angst #marauders smut #marauders x y/n #marauders era #marauders x you #marauders fanfiction #marauders #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter

[espritmuse]

okayyyy but dom bully mikasa who starts being mean to you when you get too close to eren and tells you you’re acting like such a slut around him until one day she eventually fucks you stupid calling you the same names and making you tell her your hers

—𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄—

⌕ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Mikasa Ackerman x Reader

⌕ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: semi public sex (school bathrooms), fingering, cunnilingus, meankasa and possessive Mikasa, a bit of degradation. [1.3 words.]

⌕ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: The beginning is just for a bit of context, you can just go right to the smut if ur too horny, it’s the best moment I guess…. (Yeah it is)

— 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑 —

Mikasa knew very well where this little game was going. Since the very beginning. But can you blame her for playing with you like she did? it was so fun, seeing you getting all flustered, seeing your eyes avoiding hers when you both met in the school corridors.

A boy. A stupid and meaningless boy. It was the problem, or rather, her excuse for treating you like she always does. Accidents, like she calls them in front of the headteacher when she is, once again, sent to his office.

But the line was definitely crossed last Saturday night, when you went to her boyfriend’s birthday party. Eren Yeager. It took you some time, perhaps too much time to finally realise and understand that jealousy was the cause of all of your mistreatment.

Daggers piercing your skin. That’s what her dark black eyes would’ve thrown if they could when her boyfriend shared his cup of alcohol with you. You weren’t that close to him, you weren’t even really his friend, but that was already too much, apparently. Since then, insults and humiliations got worse, so much worse.

“Slut.” This is what you could read on the body of your car, written in red paint. Eyes wide and mouth agape, you tried to use the sleeve of your shirt to wash the paint out, without any success. You looked stupid, like this, on the parking lot; and she didn’t miss a second of it.

3PM in the school restroom. That was the time and the place you were supposed to meet her at. You accepted, for some unknown reason, after reading it on the piece of paper she had left on your car. Curiosity, as it may be.

And there she was. Awaiting for you, her back pressed on the white wall, an unamused expression on her face. Unamused, until she heard your footsteps walking down to her.

Black nail polish. It was what her nails were painted with when she slowly slid them down your pants, looking straight at you, eyes lost in your own gaze, searching for the slightest glimpse of disapprobation.

Nowhere to be found.

“Don’t make any loud noises. You’ll regret it” She advised spitefully, in an inaudible whisper, her lips almost caressing yours. “Understood?” She then questioned rhetorically.

“Y…yes” you answered uncertainly, still a bit confused of what was just occurring in front of you.

“Good girl. Open your legs.” She announced in a rough voice. An order, that’s what it really sounded like.

You did so, spreading both of your lower members without any difficulties on the bathroom cabinet, sitting in-between the two sinks. Your movement seemed to please her because her lips curved into a small angelic and exited smile. The black haired woman placed both of her hand on each individual knees before pulling you closer to her.

She put one knee on the floor, then the second, before pulling down your underwear swiftly with her fingers. It was delicate, surprisingly. Your eyes weren’t missing a single piece of this moment, amazed and still a bit shocked.

“You’re a dirty girl you know. Couldn’t have guessed that.” She remarked, holding your pink lace lingerie in her pale hand, her curious and mocking gaze all over your underwear. “I wonder if the top is the same.” She started after dropping your pantie on the bare floor, “or let me guess, you’re not even wearing anything under your shirt? Hm?”

“I…”

“Shh…bad girls don’t talk.” She said, standing back up quickly and placing her hand on your face, her thumb caressing your cheek. You couldn’t even tell what was going on in her mind, her movements towards you didn’t give any further details. Was she playing with you? Maybe one of her friends was hiding and recording all of that? You didn’t know. You should’ve stopped.

But you didn’t want to.

Mikasa took both sides of your skirt and lifted it a bit, exposing your pubis to her perverted gaze and, suddenly, her mouth was painted with a very big and bright smile, as if this scenery was all the needed, everything she always wanted.

You were now all naked, with the exception of your skirt, that was still covering your ass and not allowing the cold surface to come in contact with your bare skin.

And yeah, she was right, you weren’t wearing anything under your shirt.

Her tongue wandering playfully around your warm core, you mentally begged her to pleasure you. You needed it, so, so much. It's funny when you think about it; you just hated her more than anyone on this earth some minutes ago and now, she’s between your legs at your most vulnerable state.

“Mikasa…. Can you…” you tried to say.

“Quiet.” She replied spitefully, the sound of her voice slightly muffled since her head was buried in your lower body. The raven-haired woman placed both of your legs on her shoulders, your knees bending at the curve of her bones.

It’s her tongue that you felt first, sliding slowly between your fold, trying to find its way to your clit. And it did find, pretty quickly, like it always belonged here. She moved it very slowly, at first, making sure to not hurt you or making you uncomfortable.

You grabbed her black hair, trying to keep your noises for yourself, as she ordered you to some minutes prior. You could feel every little thing, her steady and serene breath on your vulva, her nose brushing slightly against your mons pubis and her right hand stroking gently your right knee.

“See? When you close this fucking mouth…” she said between loud respiration. It seemed like she was talking to herself, actually. But you still listened carefully. “You…you’re fucking delicious…I knew it.” She continued, her words feeling even better on your clit because of the air she was releasing when she was pronouncing them.

Two fingers. Or maybe three, you couldn’t even tell. She started moving them very slowly inside of you, trying to follow the rhythm of her tongue at the same time. It was the same identical pace, you could tell. It felt fantastic.

You couldn’t even stop the noises from escaping your lips, it was impossible. Never in your life you have felt that great, that pleasured.

Her lips and tongue sucking on your clit, you almost didn’t notice when she replaced her mouth with her thumb. She got up from the dirty floor of the bathroom and got closer to you and, as a whisper, planted some soft kisses on your temples and your nose. You glimpsed a change in her behaviour, almost unnoticeable, but it was here.

“Mika….Mikasa…it…” you tried to say once again, but this time she didn’t interrupt you or, not directly; you simply couldn’t talk anymore.

“It feels good doesn’t it baby?” She whispered in your ear sensually. “Tell me how good I make you feel.” She continued.

“V…very very good…” you mumbled.

“Very good? Is that so?” She questioned gently, her knuckles moving back and forth inside your folds. “You’re about to cum, aren’t you sweetheart?” She asked as well after noticing your hands, who tried to grab her shirt uncontrollably.

You nodded quickly. But she stopped.

“You’re mine. Do you understand?” Mikasa said, looking straight in your eyes, a devilish smile on her angelic face.

“Mhh…. Please….why did you…” You protested, not even paying attention to the things she was saying.

“I won’t continue if you don’t say it back.”

“I… I’m y…yours…”

You finally felt her hands moving back in your body, allowing you to properly cum, your head buried in the crook of her neck as she was trying to keep her balance with her free hand, positioned on the mirror behind you.

“Turns out I was right all this time huh?” She started, once out of the bathroom, both of you looking all innocent, as if nothing had happened. “You’re such a slut.” She quietly proceeded in your ear.

You were right too, it was jealousy all of this time.

Thank you a lot for reading <333 reblogs and comments are pretty much welcomed !! Have a nice day!

<- Masterlist

#attack on titan #snk #snk x reader #aot imagine #snk fanfiction #aot #aot headcanons #shingeki no kyojin #Mikasa #Mikasa Ackerman #Mikasa x reader #Mikasa smut #aot smut #mikasa x reader smut #Mikasa aot #mikasa attack on titan #Mikasa snk #mikasa ackerman x reader #mikasa headcanons #aot fanfic #aot x reader #snk wlw #aot wlw #aot season 4 #aot scenario

[miekasa]

slow hands

+ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

+ genre and warnings: fluff, some angst? but hardly, levi is the sweetest, please do not mistake his quiet affections for apathy or lovelessness

+ word count: 3k

+ summary: based off of a request about physical affection and acts of service being levi’s love languages—which i agree! i’m so happy you asking about that, i could write essays about how physical touch is important to levi, but instead, i will leave you with this for now lol

i. in crowded spaces (so you don’t get lost, or so he claims)

Levi isn’t particularly fond of the way you like to go shopping in the inner walls. He is, however, fond of you; so he forgoes the prissy upper-class men and overall stingy aura of Wall Sina’s inhabitants just so you can get your favorite kind of bread and fruit.

Today, it seems like everyone and their mother wanted to visit the outdoor markets, despite the scheming merchants and obviously overpriced merchandise. From the crowd to the noise level, none of it is really up Levi’s alley; but he has to admit, watching people fail to successful haggle the price of eggs is immensely amusing to him.

What isn’t amusing is the way you keep stopping in the middle of the square, distracted by anything remotely shiny or with a pleasant smell you come across. Levi stops in his tracks, sensing a lack of your presence behind him; he turns around, and sure enough, you’re standing a few meters away, squinting at the price written above the basket of apples in front of you.

He sighs, trudging back to you, and watching from a step away as you scan over the fruit scrutinizingly. The merchant behind the stand does his best at selling you his product, boasting about how the fruit is fresh and hand-picked, and some other bullshit.

“These look good,” you muse to yourself, picking up a single, red apple in your palm for closer observation, “I could make a pie for the kids later.”

“Ah, pretty and she cooks, what a woman,” the bearded merchant smiles, adjusting his hat as he looks at you.

He only seems to notice Levi’s presence when he pushes forward just a little bit, looking at the apples, bored, then to the man, who speaks to him next, “Can I interest you in a basket, too, sir?”

Levi doesn’t respond with anything but a slight shake of his head, before looking back to you. You’re standing upright now, having placed your sample apple back with the rest, unfazed by Levi standing next to you; like you were completely unaware you’d left him in the first place.

He holds back a scoff. You can be so unaware of your surroundings at times, he honestly thinks it’s a miracle that you make it back from your missions alive. You’re also seemingly unaware of just how many inner wall pigs flirt with you, as you look completely oblivious to the advances of the merchant, who offers you two baskets for the price of one—the only caveat being that you allow him to take you on a date later that evening.

Levi lolls his head to the side, tired eyes gazing at the old man who tries to cut himself a bargain. He knows you’re prepared to give an overly polite and nonchalant response to wave the man off, but Levi doesn’t have time for your pleasantries today. 

Quietly, he reaches for your free hand, lacing your fingers together firmly before pulling you away from the merchant and the stand.

“Levi!” you call for him, borderline whining, “I wasn’t actually going to agree to a date with him, but the apples—”

“There’s a stand a few streets over that Hange claims is better than anything she’s ever eaten,” Levi grumbles, questioning under his breath about where the hell the piece of shit men in the interior get their audacity from, “And you don’t need two baskets. One is enough.”

Levi doesn’t turn your way, so he misses the fond look in your eyes and the small curve to your lips. He does, however, feel the way you wrap your other arm around his, leaning into him gently as to not disturb your stride as you keep walking.

“But I want to have enough to make a pie for the kids, later,” you tell him, slowly rubbing your thumb against the fabric of his blazer.

Levi scoffs audibly this time. “You don’t have to make shit for them.”

“I don’t have to do shit for anyone,” you smile, “But they’re just kids, Levi. Besides, I know you like pie, too, you big baby.”

Levi doesn’t say anything at that, only choosing to flash you an unamused scowl, before pulling you down a smaller, less crowded street.

“Let’s just get the fucking apples and go home,” he says, decidedly, passing by a group of MPs sharing a flask, “I don’t know how much longer I can stay in the interior without snapping some pig’s head off.”

ii. during long meetings

Levi thinks that if Erwin weren’t Commander, he could probably make a living as a pastor with the way he preaches for hours on end.

It’s going on hour two of this long, drawn-out strategy meeting, and Levi knows that he’s not the only one about to lose his fucking marbles. Albeit, he’s much more composed than some other people around the table; he still wants to retire to his office for the evening. Even the mountain of paperwork waiting for him would be more entertaining than this.

Levi listens, admittedly a little more carefully, when you speak up, offering information about the layouts of a small town destroyed on your last expedition, where you’d lost a member of your own squad. Erwin nods, looking back down at his map to take your words into consideration.

Levi looks to his right where you’re seated, notices the guilt flash in your eyes as you think about your last failed expedition. It wasn’t your fault, and you know that; but he knows, more than anyone, how difficult it can be to lose one of your own soldiers.

Quietly, he lifts his teacup with his right hand, and places it down in front of you. He says nothing beyond an almost unnoticeable nod towards the cup once it’s within your reach, before looking back towards Erwin and Armin.

If anyone else seemed to notice his gesture, they don’t make it known. Except for Hange, of course, who flashes him a knowing grin before resuming her conversation.

Levi knows you’ve finished the tea when he feels your hand resting lightly atop his knee, tapping your index and middle fingers against his pants—a silent thank you. In the middle of his own conversation, he doesn’t turn to you or say much other than slipping his right hand on top of yours, loosely curling his fingers between the slits of yours.

His hand stays there for the rest of the meeting, his thumb rubbing slow, unidentifiable patterns into the skin on the back of your hand; an empty teacup, and a mutual gratitude between the two of you.

iii. when you’re working too hard (or for too long)

If not the gigantic humanoid monsters out to swallow you whole, the paperwork is probably the worst part about being a captain in the Survey Corps. Levi would know, having spent countless nights up reading proposals, approving plans, signing documents, filling out death certificates.

It can be grueling work, even if it is, essentially, reading and writing whilst being sat at a desk. And while, sometimes, he can admit that the paperwork is more bearable than his own nightmares; he knows that for you, it holds no such solace.

If anyone thought that Levi worked himself to the bone, they must not have met you. Your meticulous mannerisms and work ethic could almost make him seem sloppy by comparison. It’s not uncommon to find you training yourself or your cadets into the ground, theorizing with Hange and Erwin, or—Levi’s personal least favorite—hunched over your desk, eyes scanning away at stacks of ink-ridden papers.

You must be five or six hours in by now, if he’s calculated correctly. The last time he saw you was around midday, when he’d been watching you spar with Jean. It’s dark out now, the other cadets and soldiers having retired to their rooms for the evening after dinner. 

“You’ll end up a hunchback if you keep this up,” he drawls upon entering your office. He watches as your head snaps up to him; he figured you hadn’t even heard him enter, seeing as you didn’t respond to his knocking. He wonders how it’s possible for you to be so aloof, yet so scrupulous all at once.

Embarrassed, more likely at your lack of awareness than his comment, you push yourself up a little bit, elbows on your desk and fingers crossed. “You’re not exactly one to talk, you know.”

Levi only hums at your jab, inching towards your desk. He likes the way your eyes track his movements as his proximity to you increases, stepping around your desk to stand behind your chair. 

“Sit up,” he orders, voice soft yet firm.

He waits for you to straighten your back, but frowns when you scoot your chair closer to your desk after doing so. He takes it upon himself to move your chair back, ignoring the terrible squeaking of the wood scraping across the floor. Well, at least that was an indication that the floors were clean.

“I can’t write if I’m this far from my desk,” you complain, just as the palms of Levi’s hands make contact with your shoulders.

“Good thing I’m not asking you to write anything,” Levi replies, digging the heels of his hands into your shoulder muscles. This would work better with your shirt off, he muses to himself, but this would have to do.

You open your mouth to protest, but your words fall short on your tongue, an exhale of relief coming out instead as Levi continues to massage your shoulders. Levi can feel you melting into his actions, your body going slack and the knots in your muscles uncoiling themselves. He counts about five minutes in passing before he hears your breath calm, too; the shallow exhales of your overworked body replaced with deep inhalations and extended sighs.

He lightens his movements as his massage comes to and end. The palm of his left hand runs across your throat gently, allowing him to tuck his thumb and index finger under your chin, and tilt your head backwards for you to face him. Levi’s thumb pads against your jaw line as you look up at him, and him back at you. 

Finally, he leans down, his lips making contact with your forehead for a gentle kiss, “You work too hard.”

“I learned from the best,” and just as gently, you reach your arm up and backwards, your palm clumsily finding its way to Levi’s hair, pulling him down, towards your lips this time, “You take such good care of me.”

“Obviously,” Levi mumbles, stealing another kiss between his words, “That’s my job, brat.”

iv. during dinner time

The Mess Hall is among Levi’s least favorite places, for obvious reasons; but he does enjoy sharing a meal with you, and ensuring that you’ve eaten a full serving to sustain yourself.

He can look past Hange and Nanaba’s overly enthusiastic conversations, despite sitting directly across each other, Erwin’s sloppy eating habits, and the overall rowdy atmosphere of the Mess Hall, as long as he has you beside him to numb the pain. Which is why he’s been exceptionally grumpy these past two weeks, as you’ve taken to sitting with some of the younger cadets during dinner time. 

It’s not unusual and it doesn’t surprise him, or anyone really; everyone can see how much they all adore you. Especially Mikasa, strangely enough. Probably because of the way you treat Eren, and how much he and Armin look up to you; and probably because she was your first pick to fill a vacancy in your squad. 

He walks with you across the floor, the both of you holding your own tray of food—a watery soup, some bread, and a piece of fruit as a treat. He knows you won’t finish your soup, and that he’ll have to give you half of his bread to make up for it; but he also knows you’ll slice up your apple for him to eat in exchange.

So Levi is not too happy when he sees Eren waving your way, the clumsy idiot almost hitting Armin in the head from the uncoordinated shaking of his hand. You smile at the younger boy, turning your body to walk towards his table.

Levi, however, stops your stride before it can begin, pulling tactfully at the back of your shirt, and forcing you to turn back around. He pokes at the nape of your neck, gently pushing you forwards, and in the direction of the table where Erwin, Hange, Mike and Moblit are seated.

You seem to get his silent message, flashing Levi a sweet smile before turning to offer Eren a sorry glance as you continue to head in the direction of the table with your colleagues. Levi hums when you start walking again, following closely behind you, and turning back to offer Eren a not-so-sorry, not-so-friendly glare.

Levi was getting his apple sliced for him today, whether the brats liked it or not.

“You know, you should sit with them sometime,” you tell him, breaking his small loaf in half to dip it into your soup, “They admire you a lot.”

“I think they’d shit their pants if shorty even came near their table,” Hange jokes, earning chuckles from some of your colleagues.

Levi says nothing and refrains from rolling his eyes. He could care less about the admiration they hold for him, or for you. If Eren and Amin wanted to spend time with you that badly, then they should train their asses off and make it onto your squad.

“Oi,” you call to him, mocking his voice and tone, “Here, they gave us yellow ones today, I know they’re your favorite.”

Levi shoves you with his elbow affectionately, before taking the slice of apple from your hold. He chews gratefully, heart beating against his chest in admiration as you carefully place the rest of the slices on his tray.

He squeezes your thigh in thanks under the table once you’ve finished slicing both apples for him. Sure, he could do it himself, and sure he could technically see you in your room whenever he wants, but that’s not the point; Levi will be damned if he catches any of those other brats with his apple slices.

v. when you come home

It’s not often that Levi becomes overly worried about your well-being, as backwards and apathetic as it may seem to other people. He trusts you, and knows that you’re stronger than you look—stronger than him, even—and he has no reason to doubt you; you’ve always come back to him.

But now, it’s going on eleven days since your squad was supposed to return from specially designed and assigned mission from Erwin himself, and Levi was beginning to let his nerves get the best of him.

He knows he’s not the only one getting antsy for some kind of message—any kind of sign at all—that you and your men were okay. Two days ago, Hange had pestered Erwin for the greater part of an hour about sending just one more tracking squad to look for yours; Mikasa and Armin hovered around for any news that you had returned, and that you’d brought Eren back unharmed; hell, even Mike had come to check in with him, rocking on his feet, asking Levi if there had been any news from you.

It’s dark out now, the day coming to a close, marking the twelfth night since your estimated return date. Levi sighs, untucking himself from his desk, intent on marching down to Erwin’s office and demanding he let him go look for you.

“You know we have to give it fourteen days, at least,” Erwin sighs.

“That’s a bullshit rule and you know it,” Hange interjects, having burst into the room only seconds after Levi; hung up on your lack of return just as much as he was.

Of course she is—you’re Hange’s closest friend. Not to mention, you’d taken Moblit with you on your mission, setting Hange’s work back significantly without the presence of her valuable second.

“I know,” Erwin nods, “But the first tracking squad found no evidence of any bodies. They’re most likely alive.”

“All of them?” Hange questions, incredulous and hopeful.

“That’s what we hope for,” Erwin responds, voice heavy. He looks to Levi, “She’ll come back. She always does.”

Levi knows that; he knows. But he still can’t shake this feeling. He opens his mouth to refute, when Sasha comes bumbling into Erwin’s office, heaving.

“Commander Erwin, Captain (Y/N)’s squad has just returned!” Sasha squeaks, “No casualties, four in the infirmary now with minor wounds, but nobody’s in critical condition, sir.”

Levi can barely register the young girl’s words, before he’s storming towards the infirmary, desperately searching for your familiar face amongst the soldiers in the cots. He sees Moblit amongst some of your other men and hastily asks him about your whereabouts.

“She had Eren,” Moblit tells him calmly, wincing slightly as a nurse rubs alcohol into the cut along his arm, “I thought she’d take him here—maybe in one of the smaller rooms across the hall?”

Levi nods, grateful, and moves so that Hange can squish Moblit with her affections, heading towards the hallway. He sees just a sliver of light coming from a room two doors down, and he doesn’t hesitate to search for you there.

He all but bursts through the door, relieved to find you tying and cutting a bandage around Eren’s forehead. Levi wants to scold you for taking care of someone else wounds before attending to your own, but he doesn’t have time for that right now.

You stand up straight after you’re finished wrapping Eren’s larger cuts, with barely enough time to register that Levi’s entered the room before he has one hand around your waist, and the other cradling the back of your head.

Levi can feel that he’s knocked the wind out of you, but that doesn’t stop you from slowly wrapping your arms around him to complete the hug. He tucks his head into the juncture of your neck, ignoring the faint scrapes along your skin.

“You’re back,” he hums, holding you a little tighter against him.

Levi feels your laughter reverberate through his own body, as you mirror his hold on you; your right hand coming up to cradle the back of his head, your fingers loosely coiling into his hair.

“Of course I am,” you hum, reveling in Levi’s shallow breaths that tickle your neck, “I’ll always come back to you, Levi.”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot imagines #snk imagines #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman smut #eren x reader

[miyuwuki]

Can I request Kise showing his real side to his s/o, you know the one he has when playing basketball the darker character, and his s/o loves him regardless? Tsym!

hello love! this lovely meant akashi instead of kise! thank you so much for this request, this is a very wholesome idea

warnings: slight angst but happy ending!

akashi seijuro x reader

i will always love you

you were so confused. akashi hadn’t picked you up in the morning, or steal you from your friends so you can have lunch with him, or let alone speak to you. in fact, he was completely avoiding you today, and even going the extra lengths of putting a hand up when you tried to approach him. you were sure you didn’t do anything wrong as you spent the entire day deciphering your actions and words, and what could have possibly made him upset; just yesterday, the both of you had a study date and dinner together, and it ended off on a good note. what’s with him today? we had a good time last night.. you thought, grumbling under your breath. the anxiety you felt was slowly getting replaced with anger, and soon enough, you felt like punching that prince of a boyfriend of yours.

and so you made a plan; a plan that after school, you’d walk into the student council office and give him a piece of your damn mind. maybe you would have let it slide if there was at least an explanation for his behaviour, but there wasn’t, and you weren’t going to let his ignorance win- especially when it was towards you.

the bell soon rang for dismissal, and eventually rakuzan was empty. you packed your things and stomped as quickly as you can to the student council office. through the door you saw your boyfriend working on a pile of paperwork. your eyebrows furrowed and marched into the office.

“seijuro! we need to talk!” you dropped your bags and crossed your arms across your chest, waiting for a response.

“i’m busy.” akashi replied, not even looking up from the papers he was signing. a vein popped in the corner of your head, impatient from all the bullshit he was giving you today. you scoffed, “i don’t care! you’ve been avoiding me the whole day! you didn’t tell me why; you left me hanging in the morning, then at lunch, and literally every time i tried to approach you! what’s gotten into you? did i say something wrong to you yesterday? i tried to figure out if i did, but i don’t really recall anything of that sort. at least explain yourself-”

“you should leave me, y/n.”

you stopped talking and your arms fell to your sides. leave him? as in break up with him? 

“s-seijuro, i just asked for an explanation-”

your words were interrupted by him walking up to you. you didn’t know what you were feeling; if it was fear, or if it was anger. you couldn’t tell, and all you knew was that it felt like there was a giant pit in your gut.

“sei?” 

that’s when you saw it; the way his eyes glowed. how one was red, and the other was a bright glowing orange.

“leave, y/n. i’m not good for you.” akashi said, looking straight into your eyes. you clenched your jaw, taking a breath in, “what are you talking about sei? i have one problem and you want me to leave? we can sort this out if you just explain why. why are you being like this?” you said with confidence as you fold your arms across your chest once more.

“did i stutter, y/n? i said i’m not good enough for you. you need to be with someone who will provide you care with pure selflessness and content. this is something i cannot give you. my orders remain absolute, so leave me.” he clamoured, feeling an ache in his chest.

tears started to form in the ducts of your eyes, and you clenched your fists in your chest. your head was clouded, and your body was growing weak. you weren’t going to back down like this; you didn’t want to give up. “who are you to tell me of who and what makes me happy, sei?” you mumbled, wiping your tears. you lifted your head up and looked straight into his heterochromatic eyes, “who are you to decide that for me, asshole! i love you, and only you, can’t you see that?” you raised your voice a little higher, bewildering akashi a bit.

“but i’m right, and this is just how it is-”

“to hell if you’re right! when i got into this relationship, i knew about your other personality already, but i still wanted to deal with it because that’s just how much i fucking love you!” you sniffled and cried, not even attempting to stop yourself, “you could commit crime or accidentally miss your shot, i don’t care! you’re always going to be the same seijuro i fell in love with. nothing and no one will ever change that.” you didn’t know what to do after that, so you just wailed; the student council office was filled with the sounds of your cries and sobs. after all, you didn’t expect him to react the way he did today. you didn’t expect him to tell you to leave, or hear the words “i’m not good enough for you” coming out from his mouth. you just wanted to be with him. all you wanted was him.

but something you didn’t expect even more were akashi’s tears slowly flowing from his eyes; not too much, but not too little that it was unnoticeable. he slowly walked closer to you and wrapped his arms around your torso, resting his face in your shoulder. 

“seijuro...” you wrapped your arms around his neck, breathing in that masculine scent you loved.

“do you mean that, y/n?” he whispered, “do you love me that much? even with...”

you sighed, “of course i do, sei. i will always love every single part of you.” you felt his grip tighten on you, feeling the sighs against the crook of your neck. you rubbed his back in a circular motion, trying to comfort your boyfriend. “now sei, why were like that today? can you tell me why? please?”

he let go of your embrace and looked into your eyes once more, the glowing eye reflecting off the glassy surface of your own. you held akashi’s cheek in your hand, and he immediately leaned into your touch. “i didn’t know what i’d do if you ever saw this side of me. to be honest, i was quite petrified if you were to leave because of it; i kept overthinking it so i thought making you leave would make it hurt less. i was wrong.”

you took your hand off of akashi’s check and grabbed both of his hands, bringing the up. “sei, have a little more trust in me. i meant it when i said i will always love every part of you. this akashi, the other one, and every single one after that.” you gave a soft peck to each of his hands, “i’m not going anywhere, just know that. you’re stuck with me forever.”

a minuscule smile formed on his face as he leaned in closer and planted a soft kiss on your lips. you felt the mixed breaths against your mouth, both of you inhaling it. he grabbed your waist once more to give you a much deeper kiss, both your lips dancing in sync, as if it had a mind of its own. he pulled apart from you and placed another kiss on top of your head.

“i love you, y/n. i’m so sorry for the way i treated you today. i promise i will make it up to you, love. thank you for accepting me always.”

“i love you too, seijuro. next time, don’t go neglecting me, and i don’t care if you think if you’re right or whatever. we always talk about it, okay? besides, there’s no one else i want but you, dork.”

“yes, my love.”

aaaa i hope this was good enough for you! mmmm although akashi is literally perfect, i felt like he would get insecure about his other personality— so that’s how i wrote it! please give me some feedback if you’d like. once again thank you <3

#kuroko no basquet #kuroko no basket #knb #the basketball which kuroko plays #kuroko no basket x reader #knb x reader #knb x you #akashi seijirou #akashi seijuurou x reader #akashi x reader #generation of miracles #seijuro akashi #aomine daiki #kise ryouta #midorima shintarou #murasakibara atsushi #kuroko tetsuya #kagami taiga #angst #i love him #momoi satsuki

[multiplefandomsblog]

Fuyuhiko and Kokichi’s reaction to their s/o replacing them with a plushy

request; Rantaro, Fuyuhiko and Kokichi’s reaction to their s/o giving them almost 0 attention because they’re giving all their love to a plushy? Lol no cuddles for them- plushy’s too cute

warnings; fluff, lots of cussing, unedited, gender-neutral reader, implied human strangulation, strangulation of a stuffed animal, stuffed animals, jealousy?? minor neglecting, comfortyyyy, angst but like, so little angst, hard days at work :(

note; i didn’t do Rantaro’s because i did something similar, right here! also, sorry for making fuyuhiko’s so much longer— i don’t even know why i wrote that much, i have no reasoning-

Kokichi Ouma

“S/oooooo~? I’m cold, can we cuddle-?” Bright purple eyes widened, and a look of pure unfiltered betrayal dawned over his face, it almost looked as if you had poured the expression over his face. His eyes darted towards the plushy in betrayal; his expression almost convinced you that you had accidentally cheated on him. “K-Kokichi? What’s-” You were suddenly very rudely interrupted by his obnoxious shriek of horror—

“UWAAAAAAH! You’re-!” He snortled like a child, inhaling in all his snot loudly and grossly before screaming, “So! Mean!” Wincing at the loud and exaggerated sobbing, you frowned at him, only bringing the plushy closer to your chest. “You can’t guilt me into hugging you instead, Kokichi- Hey— Hey! Stop!” Before you could finish your sentence, Kokichi had pounced on you, his devastated expression from earlier long gone, as now his eyes shone pure rage. 

He was strangling the fucking stuffed animal.

Kokichi may be the hugest liar you will ever meet in the world, but he keeps to his word, that he’ll do anything for love. Even strangling someone.

And in this case, the ‘someone’ was a lifeless stuffed animal.

“K-Kokichi! You fucking dumbass— What do you think that’ll even do!? Kill it!?” You cried out, straining as you tried to yank the plushy away from his iron grip. “Stuffed animals can’t breathe!” Kokichi replied in between grunts, white knuckles gripping the plushy tight around its.. its neck. “Not after this, it won’t!” Cackling victoriously, the gremlin finally managed to pull the plushy away from, and the extraordinary momentum had thrown it across the room. 

“Kokichi! That was my favourite-” Your words had been taken away from you as Kokichi suddenly jumped you, tackling you to your bed as he wrapped his arms and legs around you. “I thought I was your favourite..” His voice was soft, the innocent, puppy-dog tone almost had you cave in. Almost.

“Kokichi…” You whined, “I want my plushy back; you’re too heavy.” Kokichi pinched your back, prompting a squeal out of you, “I’m not heavy, you meanie!” You squirmed, sitting up with the boy clinging to you on your lap. “You didn’t have to pinch me, you ass.” Mumbling, you shuffled up, chest feeling as if it had been crushed by the boy sticking to you. 

Kokichi didn’t reply to your insult, instead, shifting closer to you before stilling, almost like dried clay. “Nishishi! Now you’re all mine!” You stifled a smile, “What? Were you jealous of a plushy?” Kokichi shook his head, grin wide and bright as always, “Of course not! It never had a chance against me so I wasn’t even a little worried!” That was a lie. He was scared if you had gotten too attached to the plushy, you’d rather the plushy’s hugs instead of his—eventually, never hugging him again. Kokichi shuddered at the thought.

“I don’t know, the plushy doesn’t—you know—pinch me so..” Kokichi gripped tighter onto you, making sure to prevent your leave before sighing dramatically, “Fine, I’m sorry, okay? Now just promise to always hug me instead of that stupid pillow, kay?” Kokichi spoke in an annoyingly cute voice— but despite being shrill to your ears, you couldn’t help but melt as you heard the real meaning to it. The meaning behind his little act. In a frustratingly teasing voice, you tantalized him. “So you were jealous.”

Kokichi snorted dismissively, grip not loosening, “Nishishi! Why would I be jealous of a plushy? You’re lucky to even be touching an Ultimate Supreme Leader!” It was ironic, seeing as how you hadn’t even been hugging him back, let alone touching him—to which he had painfully noticed, and disliked. Yet he was acting like you were the one who had been strangling a toy for him.

His grin faltered, and you could catch the almost unnoticeable flash of jealousy that shone in his purple eyes. But despite the small tell, you let him win this round, you neglected him enough. you neglected him for less than a minute before he pounced on you, mans was insane.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu

Fuyuhiko had just gotten back from a rough day at work, he sighed as he opened the door, he was extremely exhausted from doing— what was he doing? Well, he’s a Yakuza, that’s a secret. “S/o, I’m home..!” His voice sounded drained, though relieved, he was finally home and all he wanted was to cuddle you— Ah. But it seems you’ve chosen a plushie over a real-life man. 

Fuyuhiko’s eye fell on the sight of you, snuggling a plushie whilst you watched a movie. He pouted, he was always the one you snuggled. Betrayal ran through his veins; what had changed? Did you not love him anymore?

No, I’m kidding; he’s just being a drama queen.

Despite his sulky demeanour, he refused to beg for your attention just so he could get your.. your soft and warm cuddles... that make him feel safe no matter where he was.

... Well, he tried to refuse. It seems, even Yakuza bosses couldn’t refuse the uncontrollable want to be in your arms. Could you blame him? The man just wanted to be held by his partner. 

He wasn’t going to admit that though. The boss baby had too much pride to demand cuddles, unlike Kokichi-

So he decided, you were going to be given the silent treatment. Yes, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, the ultimate Yakuza boss was planning to give you the silent treatment(and fail). It didn’t seem like he needed to anyway, you had been so invested in the movie you didn’t even hear him come in, nor did you greet him like you usually did. Sheeesh, that one must have hurt.

Fuyuhiko furrowed his brow and waited for you to notice him, dropping his shoes on the ground twice. It wasn’t until he started jangling his keys aggressively and slapping his bag against the counter, did you actually notice his presence. After you finally did, you spared him a meek hand wave before bringing the same arm back around your plush tightly. “Oh. Hey, Fuyu.” 

You didn’t even turn your head to look at him.

He simply stared at you, you who had just snuggled closer to your plushy— were.. were you giving it head pats!? His frown deepened, you were just doing it on purpose at this point. 

Scoffing, he sat next to your spot on the couch, glaring daggers into the plushy as you seemed distracted with the TV in front of you. He felt his heart sink as you didn’t cuddle into his side like you usually did. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned into the armrest opposite to you, feigning a grudge. 

He couldn’t even get comfortable on the armrest, he kept shifting every 5 seconds just to get your attention and because he really couldn’t seem to get comfortable on the chair. Fuyuhiko watched you with wide, astounded eyes as you only seemed to stuff your face in the plushy. And yup, you guessed it, he caved in. “Tch... if you’re mad at me for something, can you just tell me what I did wrong? This... plushy bull crap is irritating me.” You turned your head to finally look at him in surprise, he thought you were mad at him?

“Huh?” You perked your head up from the plushy, attention completely on him now. He felt embarrassment wash over his entire body; had you not been doing it on purpose?

“N-nothing- whatever, it’s nothing.” Fuyuhiko’s face flushed, your sudden attention on him; he hadn’t gotten used to it.

Drilling your eyes into him, you sent him an unconvinced look, but shrugged anyway— He’s a grown-ass man, if he wanted cuddles, he can ask for them. 

Fuyuhiko sulked as he watched you turn away, it obviously wasn’t nothing. You turned your head back at him as you heard him mumble something. Looking at him with a feigned-confused expression, you cocked your head to the side. “What’d you say?” 

He flushed and looked away, unconsciously scooting towards you, “I- You can cuddle me instead of that pillow, if you want or whatever. It doesn’t matter.” He murmured, moving to stand up. “Never mind.” You grinned at his brooding demeanour, yanking his hand back onto you and throwing the plush somewhere, “Okay, okay! I was just joking with you, I know how much you want my hugs.” 

He fell with an ‘oomph’ against your body, face blank as his mind didn’t seem to register what had happened yet. 

Ohh, but the moment he felt the warmth spread throughout his body, he let out a sigh of relief. “You’re such a cute fucking asshole.” You laughed at his somewhat compliment, somewhat insult, letting him wrap his arms around you tight. You could feel his body relaxing on top of you, and in response, your own shoulders dropped in relaxation. ‘Yessss..! This was the shit.’ Fuyuhiko’s bad day at work had been long forgotten, as his mind was currently occupied with running thoughts of you.

#mod chia #kokichi x reader #danganronpa kokichi #kokichi oma #kokichi fluff #kokichi headcanons #kokichi ouma #drv3 kokichi #drv3 killing harmony #super danganronpa 2 #fuyuhiko kuzuryuu #fuyuhiko x reader #fuyuhiko kuzuryu x reader #fuyuhiko imagine #danganronpa fuyuhiko #danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa fluff #danganronpa oneshot #fuyuhiko #sdr2 fuyuhiko #fuyuhiko headcanons

[kenmei]

-ˏˋ COME HOME, I WANT US ˊˎ-

♡ gn!reader x suna rintarou

cw: hurt/comfort, romance, fluff, angst, slice of life, timeskip!au

synopsis: suna “i’m actually emotional as fuck” rintarou

wc: 1000+

notes from mei!

i just know sunarin is actually a big baby :’)

that title looks so weird,,, but it’s a keshi lyric </3 so i refuse to change it

it starts with the little, insignificant things; the way your laugh changes when you find something truly funny, or your messy hair when you slept through your alarm clock that day. 

gradually. slowly.

the doodles that appear on the corner of your workbooks after a slow class, your favourite drink from the vending machines, and those minor changes in your mood only he’s able to catch—it’s part of the slow, almost unnoticeable process.

it engraves itself deep into his mind, pulling him so far in rintarou knows there’s no way out. yet, the feeling of realization was never like what was shown in the movies. for him, it was a simple whisper of his conscience, telling him that you are love.

but through loving, there are hardships. 

and as he sits on the couch, watching as another hour passes by waiting for you, rintarou knows nurturing that love isn’t an easy feat—that because love runs so deep, it’s so easy to bruise.

his legs bounces anxiously another hour passes. where are you? through all the fights he’s had with you, you’ve never gone this long without folding.

he’s anxious, wondering if you aren’t going to come back at all. carding his shaky hands through his hair, rintarou reaches for his phone, deciding to call you again.

straight to voicemail.

oh god. it’s like glass shatters.

rintarou never believed in higher beings, but for the first time, he’s praying in hopes that you’ll come back.

“you can’t do this to me forever, rintarou.” you say quietly, “if this is what our relationship is gonna look like, we should just end it.”

your words echo in his mind, followed by the quiet click of the door. you’re right, god, you’re so right. with his head in his hands, he wonders why he disagreed with you, brought up irrelevant topics because he couldn’t find it in him to admit he wasn’t being the boyfriend he promised himself he’d be, for you.

he knows he has to pull his own weight too, that he can’t just leave you to do all the heavy-lifting. he knows this, he does. but even so, why is he sitting here, alone in his apartment as his hope shrivels even more with passing second, pleading that you’ll walk through that door once again?

he doesn’t know.

his conscience is telling him to seek you out. after all, he knows you better than anyone else, right?

“bullshit.” rintarou mumbles, a part of him thinks that if he seeks you out, you’ll hide even better. because if he can’t even realize how badly you’re hurting, he probably doesn’t know you as well as he thinks.

the door clicks open.

his head snaps to the doorway, seeing your figure slump in. you don’t make eye contact with him, simply slipping off your shoes before heading to the bedroom.

like a lost puppy, he stalks after you, distraught replacing his usual stoic demeanour.

he’s faced with the closed bathroom door as the shower turns on. he leans forward, resting his forehead on the door.

for awhile, he just stands there, thinking of ways to fix the damage.

in all honesty, he’s nervous—scared out of his wits that the damage dealt to his once-blooming relationship, couldn’t be repaired. but he wants to try; you and everything you’ve blessed him with, it makes him want to try.

he’s not good with conveying his emotions, that reality whacks him in the head when you open the door, a bit taken aback by the fact he’s standing there.

“i’m sorry.” he whispers, and it’s so delicate-sounding you feel your heart clench in pain.

a step forward.

then another.

he wraps his limbs around you with the intent of never letting go. he buries his face in your neck. “’m sorry.”

hot tears wet his cheeks and your skin, as his arms press you even closer to him. he prays you don’t push him away.

and you don’t. your hands latch onto the front of his shirt and he thinks he starts crying even harder.

“baby,” you mutter, “come on. it’s okay.”

“don’t leave me.” it’s muffled due to his crying and the fact his face his hidden in your neck. you rub his back, trying to calm him down.

you never intended of ending your relationship with suna, you know he’s more than what most think. but you’re tired, and you don’t know if you can keep your relationship standing on your own.

when he pulls away, his hands move to your shoulders. with teary eyes and a running nose, he looks at you. “please let me try again.”

and you’re crying, too, because for the first time since forever, he’s showing the side of him he never lets loose. the side of him that needs to be seen if this relationship is to be kept standing.

when you nod, rintarou feels his whole world rapidly spin, then slow.

it feels like a strong current knocking him off his feet as he pulls you into another embrace, swaying with you in the doorway of the bathroom.

time passes, and you both find yourselves back in bed. rintarou refuses to shower, with the lingering fear that you’ll be gone when he comes back, no matter how many times you reassure him that you’ll be there, waiting.

you run your hands through his hair, his head on your chest as he holds you like there’s no tomorrow. you hear a sniffle and hold back a laugh.

“are you still crying, rin?” you mumble, smiling.

he shakes his head, but you know he’s lying.

“baby.” you say, trying to get him to look at you. “baby.”

he looks up at you, with puffy red eyes. you giggle, wiping his cheeks. scooching up, he kisses your cheek before sniffling a quiet, “i love you.”

wiping his tears, you smile. “i love you, too, rinta.”

problems don’t vanish overnight, both of you know this. but as you both lay together, molten silver splattered all over the ceilings and walls, you both can pretend time slows to a stop, like it’s only you two in the world—even if it’s just for a moment.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyū!! #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu suna #haikyuu rintaro suna #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro imagine #suna rintarō #suna rintaro scenarios #suna rintaro angst #suna rintarou #suna rintaro #rintarou suna #rintarou suna x reader