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letorip · 1 month

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i heard your name

"i heard your name and i'll never be the same”

===+++===

pairing: cairo sweet x reader

summary: after a life of fleeting things, you come to tennessee, and find someone you don’t want to be “fleeting” anymore, though she may come with ulterior motives

warnings: rivalry, references to sex, hints at student-teacher relationships, reader is being used (duh)

word count: 4.8k

A/N: i really really hate the concept of miller's girl as a whole, but i can't deny that cairo sweet is a captivating character psychologically, and that jenna does an absolutely amazing job. inspired by lolita, pale fire by vladimir nabokov, and the movie hot summer nights.

===+++===

You became aware of Cairo Sweet on a hot, sunny school day, one that almost seemed to mock your lack of enthusiasm for the new school in its beauty and the light breeze.

The high school was an ugly building, one that sat in limbo between southern charm and the studious American educational experience seen in the likes of pretentious New England. The decorator had clearly not known which one to pick, but no amount of fancy classrooms or bookshelves and Turkish rugs would make you forget you were in Tennessee of all places.

It would be just as unmemorable and brief as the last, and that’s exactly what you reminded yourself while you waited dreadfully early in the front office, in an uncomfortable yellow plastic chair that had one leg much shorter than the others.

The receptionist lady seemed nice enough, smiling at you all bright and wrinkly like old people did. “So sorry about the wait, dearie. Any minute now, she’ll be—”

“It’s no problem,” you shrugged. “I’m not really in a rush.”

The woman nodded, her eyes melting into little crows feet at the ends. There was a theory you had heard once, that the more wrinkles someone had, the more they had smiled in their life. It didn’t fit many of the crotchety old people you had met, who seemed to have frowns permanently stitched onto their leathery faces, but it definitely fit her. She glowed like a beacon, or twinkled like a chandelier of happiness.

“Are you excited about coming here?" She asked. "Starting the new semester has to be exciting!” The entire time the older woman kept sheepishly glancing over at the door, waiting someone to come in. Whoever was supposed to be guiding your tour was clearly very late.

You had long given up on hoping your mom would pick a spot and stay there. In two more months maybe, she would announce she 'wanted a change' again, and you wouldn't give this place a second thought when you left, just as you hadn't given the last places a second thought either. But you couldn't just say no.

You smiled back at her. "Yeah, kinda. This seems like a good school."

"Oh it's just splendid!" She assured you. "The kids love it here, it's just-" Before she could finish, the office door swung open, and a girl in crazy clothing bustled in, dropping her bag on the floor in the middle of the room and spinning to the receptionist.

“I’m so, so sorry!” She said, visibly dishevelled (though maybe that was just her nonsense outfit) and maybe sweating a bit. “I completely forgot I was supposed to do this!” She laughed. She seemed like one of those girls that were always drunk— not in a sad, alcoholic way, but like they were drunk on life (and maybe alcohol too).

“It’s alright, Winnie. They haven’t been waiting long.” Winnie spun around, noticing you where you sat, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Hi there, I’m Winnie,” she said, holding out her hand with a smile. You stood up and shook it in your own, smiling back. This would all be fleeting anyhow.

“Hi, yeah I heard. (Y/n)."

Winnie tilted her head, giving you a devilish smirk. She was absurdly energetic for it being so early. "Boy, aren’t you cute.”

“And aren’t you really forward,” you laughed.

She shrugged. “I think it’s more fun that way. You got a nickname?"

"Eh," you shrugged. You did, from your mom, but it wasn't worth mentioning when you wouldn't be here that long. "Not really."

"Nooo, you definitely should have one," she said, and you raised your eyebrows at her.

"I'm really good, I think," you said, grinning. "Not the most nickname—able name out there."

"Fine," she shrugged. "Suit yourself I guess. Now c’mon,” said Winnie, sticking her hand out to you. There was a certain glint in her eyes then. “I’m gonna show you every little place in this shitty little school.”

"Winnie, language!" The receptionist scolded her.

"Sorry," she winced.

Winnie dragged you around the halls like that, hand in hand and pointing into classrooms; she waved to the people that she passed. It was decent sized school, with a big cafeteria and gym, but not much else unique to boast except for the few sports fields outside. Your last school didn't have that, but it had been northern Alaska, so it made sense. It was probably hard, what with the snow.

“Boris!” Winnie waved over at a man in a track suit, with a whistle around his neck that all gym teachers seemed to wear. He rolled his eyes, waving back at her. "That's Coach Fillmore," she explained.

“What’ve I told you about that, Winnie?” He asked.

Winnie slipped her red-heart sunglasses over her eyes, flashing him a smile. “Still your favourite though, right?”

“Yeah yeah.” And he turned his attention back to the football field, coffee in hand. Winnie spun back to you, with an almost infectious aura.

"So, why'd you move?" she asked, grabbing your hand again and tugging you back inside. The metal door slammed shut behind you with a loud thud.

"Witness Protection Program," you shrugged as she pulled you around the corner. “On the run from the cartel." She looked at you like you were crazy for a moment, eyes all wide, then you laughed and ruined it. "I'm kidding. Not actually."

"OOooooO, I like you. Cute and unserious. I thought you were going to be all square, but it turns out you can joke," said Winnie, shaking her head at you. "What's your locker number, again?"

You handed her the paper. "She wrote it on here."

Winnie took it from your hand, holding it up to the fluorescent lights and examining it like a slide under a microscope. "Ah, damn. You're on the opposite side of the school from me. Like literally, the exact opposite side. That's good though, right? Your first block is Calc?"

"Uh, no. It's uh..." you stopped, leaning against a wall and sliding your backpack off. You pulled your schedule from the top pocket. "Creative Writing, with Mr. Miller."

Winnie's eyes lit up, and she punched you on the arm. "No, fucking way?! That's my first block too!"

You shrugged. "I'd honestly rather do that than calculus right now, so."

Winnie laughed. "Yeah, you and any normal person." She stopped for a minute. "Are you okay if I go off and get some breakfast before class? Winnie hungee," she said, rubbing her stomach. "I also kind of ditched my friend, and I told her I'd find her."

You nodded. "Go ahead. I'm just gonna find my locker."

"Okay!" She said, giving you a small salute. "See you in class."

===+++===

You found your way well enough, and after fumbling with the big metal lock and struggling to put the code in, could actually open your yellow locker and throw the heavy bag you had been carrying inside.

You could see other kids walking up and opening theirs around you. Their doors had metal magnets and small whiteboards, stickers and posters. You hadn't brought stuff to decorate your locker in four years. Instead, your backpack had everything you carried in it, ready to go at the drop of a hat.

The creative writing classroom was down a hallway that split off near the gym, and luckily seemed less ugly than the rest of the school. The room smelled of pine and paper, which was probably a good sign, and bookshelves and glass jars littered the walls with a bunch of other random things setting the scenery for the big chalkboard and wooden desk in the middle.

Most of the other students were already there when you arrived through the double doors, including Winnie. She stood at one of the front desks talking to someone. When she saw you, she waved, eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree even from afar. In her past life, this girl would have been a golden retriever. You waved back then turned away, heading to one of the back desks that put you firmly away from the teacher's line of sight.

Mr. Miller seemed like an alright guy, or just enough of one. He didn't do any cheesy introductions of people, or make you do one of those stupid icebreakers that made you want to die, no— he was straight to the point, with just a splash of drama.

"Hello everyone! This semester my main goal is to make you write. And I mean really write." He paused for dramatic effect, as if he thought it was Dead Poet's Society. "This is not like your other English classes, where you put minimal effort into a 'meh' essay and turn it in, and you're happy with a B. No, I want you to feel something."

After that, you couldn't help but tune him out. He wasn't bad, no. But he was just boring and unremarkable, and anything a high school writing teacher from Tennessee would be, in the way he stuttered or played with the lid of his plastic coffee cup.

He spent most of the class prattling off the syllabus and giving out the first assignment, due in a couple of days. You weren't especially interested in writing as a whole, and even less interested in the prompt of 'write about you,' but you shoved the paper into your backpack and figured you'd give it a shot.

"Mr. Miller?" asked a voice from the front.

"Yes, Cairo?” Mr. Miller said, and you raised your head up, looking to where he was speaking. The hand belonged to a girl with dark hair, and you immediately recognised her as the one Winnie had been talking to before class. She was clearly very smart, with a small stack of books on her desk in front of her.

“Are we talking about ourselves literally, as in our achievements, or as in our emotions and how we feel?” she asked. Cairo looked pretty when she talked, though you dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. This was fleeting. It was important to remember that.

“It’s up to you, actually,” he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning back against his desk. “Whatever really lets me know you.” Boy, how cliche.

When class ended, Winnie bounded over to you with a smile, her school bag tucked under her arm like it had been earlier. “Sooo, how was your first class?”

“It was pretty good, no complaints,” you said, fumbling with your folder and shoving it back into your bag.

“So, listen, do you want to sit with me at lunch? Me and Cairo sit together and you can totally join us if you want,” said Winnie, still as bubbly as ever. She gestured towards the door, and you could see the girl from earlier looking through the books on the bookshelf that stood next to it.

You shook your head. “Sorry, I got invited by a group to sit with them and I already said I would.”

Winnie frowned, pouting cartoonishly with her lower lip drooping. “No worries. If ever again though, me and Cairo would be happy to have you."

You gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Maybe tomorrow."

You ate lunch that day leaning against a concrete wall underneath the football bleachers, with no one else around, a thick paperback in your one hand and a sandwich in the other, headphones over your ears.

===+++===

"Thank you all so much for your submissions," Mr. Miller said, a stack of essays sitting under his arms as he passed them back to the class. The weather of that Friday was much more relaxed, with a smattering of clouds covering up the sun, the way you liked it.

The past three days had been just as uneventful as the last, and you went home each night only to wake up the next morning and stay equally as unenthusiastic, and attempt to bury your face into the fabric of your pillow for another five minutes.

He cleared his throat. "I've decided to do something fun, and kind of crown a 'winner' for the week, if you will." He shrugged. "It's just someone I really was impressed with, and want to recognise so, uh, we'll do this after every writing piece."

From behind the class with your head propped up on your palm, you saw Cairo tensing at his words. It had become clear even through disinterested observation that she cared way more about the class than literally anyone else— maybe even Mr. Miller. She raised her hand first, offered feedback on anyone made to read aloud, and always stayed after. She was probably itching for the recognition and you figured she deserved it too.

Which was why it shocked the hell out of you when Mr. Miller walked right up to his desk, put his hands in his pockets, cleared his throat like he thought it was a drum-roll moment, and announced, "this week I was incredibly impressed with (Y/n)'s writing."

There was no way. You froze, not entirely sure he was talking to you. Maybe he had just mispronounced someone else's name indistinguishably close to yours. Cairo's head whipped around, face equally as in shock. There was no way. Winnie was smiling at you, other kids were staring, and you wanted to die.

"Uh...thanks."

From the other side of the room, Winnie whooped for you, clapping a little, in an awkward way. Someone else let out a cough. Mr. Miller shook his head, and said, "No, thank you. Your writing was really impressive. It made me feel, in a way that was refreshing from some other things I've read."

Cairo whipped back around to gape at him for a moment and then back to you. Then, back to Mr. Miller as he continued. "I don't have much in terms of prizes, but there is a bowl of candy over there, and you can take one if you'd like."

You nodded, standing up and making your way over to the clear bowl. Why the hell not. Writing had never been something you thought you were fantastic at— you had never shared it with anyone since there had been no one to share it with. Your fingers went in, and out you pulled a grape lollipop, retreating back to your seat and popping it in your mouth.

From the front, you felt Cairo glancing at you from over her shoulder, but tried to ignore the raising hairs on the back of your neck with her focus on you. “Okay,” said Mr. Miller. “Turn to your textbooks.”

===+++===

The grape lollipop was still in your mouth at lunchtime, leaning against the concrete wall and feeling the hot Tennessee breeze ruffle against your soft shirt, moving it gently against your skin. It was quiet out, and you had your headphones over one ear, leaving the other one to listen to the trees and the wind.

That's how you heard the footsteps from around the corner, even through your music. You looked up from where your eyes had been tracing the cracks of the concrete and watching the ants walk by into their nearby hill, and there she was.

Cairo Sweet had found you.

She stood a bit down the way, on the path, with her arms crossed right over her chest. Her eyes were just as dark as before, and they bore into yours with a strange carnal desire. It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Uh, hi?" you managed. She didn’t even acknowledge it.

"So, how long are you going to keep lying to Winnie for?" Cairo asked, her voice as smooth as butter on your ears. It was a question that caught you completely off guard in its sincerity.

"Uh— I'm not— I haven't been lying," you stammered. Cairo wasn't convinced; her eyebrows lifted a little, creasing her forehead in disbelief. She took a step, one agonisingly after the other, closing the distance between you two until she stood directly beneath you, staring up through her lashes in a near haunting way. Subconsciously you took a small step back.

"I have a question," she whispered, like it was right in your ears. You could feel your blood rushing to them quickly, and it felt as if everything was happening in an almost sinful daze, slow and burning.

"Yeah?" you murmured back, fighting against the lollipop to speak. It made it harder to swallow.

"Can you smell my perfume?" Cairo asked, and your brain hung off every word that spilled from her lips.

"Yes," You clumsily nodded, eyes shooting down to her perfect mouth as it moved, then up to the freckled apples of her cheeks. You knew you were breathing loudly. "It's lavender, and—"

"—Good," she praised, barely audible in her sickly soft whisper. You nodded again, head feeling heavy. God, this girl. "Good," Cairo said again. You didn't know what to say.

"I want to read your essay," she continued, scanning the bleachers for a moment and then eyes shifting back to you in full force. She had you right where she wanted you. Under her thumb.

"Uhhhh, why?" you trailed off, confused as all hell and letting out an awkward laugh to cover.

"It's good, isn't it?" She asked, challenging you with her stare and a smirk, as if to say she knew exactly what she was doing to you chemically. "I haven't found many I want to read."

"Essays?" You mumbled.

"Good ones," she corrected you, whispering it slowly. Your gaze lowered to her lips again, her lower one caught between her teeth. Her own eyes flew to the lollipop, the stick hanging between you both.

Your breathing hitched when her hand came up, lightly grabbing the end and oh so gently pulling it from your mouth, some of your saliva carrying with it. She twirled it, never breaking eye contact with you as she placed the purple crystalline sugar on her tongue, closing her mouth around it for a moment. Cairo smiled, then pulled it from her lips and placed it back in yours.

You blinked slowly, unsure of what this was but finding it all too addicting to know how to stop it. At the sound of voices in the distance, the spell was broken, and Cairo looked back over her shoulder. You cleared your throat, realising the situation you were in.

"What're you trying to do?" You asked. It wasn't a gentle question, but it wasn't a harsh one either. Part of you wanted her to whisper back something cheesy and romantic. Or maybe you wanted something salacious to come from her all-too-plush lips, and the moment to end with hers on yours.

But instead she just blinked at you. It was like the question had taken her power away; she faltered completely. She frowned, almost frustrated by you asking, and she didn't have an answer. "Just let me know about the essay? I'd really like to read it."

Before you could reply, she turned around and walked away, as if going back to a drawing board far off in the distance. You watched her go, turning the lollipop over in your mouth.

===+++===

I should like to think that when I am older, the places I have been will make me cry. They will not meld together, in one long train; I will not move from car to car, blazing past what it may contain and never stopping to look out the window.

I will slide into a booth or take out a folding chair if I must, and watch the world go by. I will sit atop the mountains or amongst the grains of sand on a beach, and watch my eyes begin to water in the light of the setting sun.

Your eyes scanned over the essay in your hands, flipping through it and looking at all of Mr. Miller's notes. There were only four, and two of them were 'Wow!'. Even knowing he was impressed, you were at a loss for how this could be considered impressive. It was just words on a paper. Not difficult to write them, or copy them down. You were just talking, but on a page.

My mother seems to think I can’t hear her crying through the walls at night, wishing she were different. Her tears keep me up, and I trip and drown in the puddles of her despair, falling through the surface and into the depths hidden beneath, whenever I leave my room. I love her, and she always manages to convince herself I do not. She loves me, I always must convince myself she does.

It was this paragraph that made you hesitate, standing behind your locker door and rereading it over and over in your mind. There was no way you could show this to someone- and especially not Cairo.

And right there, like Cairo was conjured up by your mind, she was walking right past you, bag over her shoulder and book under her arm. You looked at her pass, the voice in the back of your mind whispering the word fleeting into your ear. It had been a week since your uncomfortable conversation (if you could even call it that) from underneath the bleachers, and she was acting weird.

She was almost avoiding you, and it was rather noticeable. Not to anyone else, who were unaware you knew each other existed, but to you, you knew. When Winnie said good morning and Cairo happened to be there, she would glance away, fully aware of you staring at her like a big idiot.

You found your way into the classroom, and Mr. Miller was writing something on the board in big white letters. It said 'MEANING,' and 'SYMBOL' in a smaller script underneath. He turned back when he was done, smiling over at Cairo and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

She always was the class favourite, and it made sense. Even if your writing was enchantingly fantastic, or some other amazing bullshit word Mr. Miller would write in blue pen that made you doubt he could actually read, Cairo was the one who actually tried. "I want everyone," he said, clearing his throat with a grunt, "to find a partner and sit down with them. This is going to be a partner activity."

You froze. Shit. These things sucked when you were the new kid who knew no one. You glanced over at Winnie, hopeful you'd find a partner in her, but she was madly gesturing towards Cairo to get her attention, and it made you smile a bit at the look on her face— until you saw who Cairo was staring at. You. Your smile went away in an instant.

Her brown eyes were staring at you again, sharp and intense. Then she picked up her bag, tucked the books she brought with her under her arm, and made due on her plan to pick you. You sent your glance away, as if to pretend you couldn't tell she was coming for you. And yet when her books landed on the table with a soft thud, you couldn't ignore her anymore.

"Care to partner up?" She asked, pulling the chair back to sit down before you could even answer. From the other side of the room, you could see Winnie staring at you, looking confused as all hell.

"Uh, sure," you managed. Was she just going to pretend you two hadn't shared whatever that was? It seemed to be the case, and it seemed she knew you were uncomfortable. Cairo Sweet almost seemed to relish in doing that to people.

"So, how'd you enjoy your first week here?" She asked, pulling out a notebook and flipping to a fresh page. She leaned forward, crossing one leg over her other.

You shrugged carefully. "It was good. Boring, but good."

Cairo nodded. "This is a really boring town, so that makes sense."

"Yeah..." you trailed off. She made putting sentences together incredibly hard for you.

Mr. Miller's assignment was boring beyond belief, but Cairo sat up straight the entire time he gave out directions, eyebrows lowering a bit or head tilting after every clarification, like she was making a mental reminder to remember that later. You attempted to ignore her, looking over to the bookshelf on your other side out of boredom.

They were all leather bound, in alternating shades of brown and green, and some hardcovers in sheathes intermixed. Finnegan's Wake and Scienza Nuova, Being and Time and Infinite Jest, you recognised and had read them all. Day-long car rides would do that to you, and it was within reading you found a particular solace from your mom screaming along to the radio.

"(Y/n), are you listening?" Cairo whispered over at you, pulling your gaze back towards her. You nodded, even though you weren't. Her leaning in seemed to fill your nose with her smell. It was lavender, and it was overpowering.

She raised her eyebrows at you like she knew you were lying again. "Really? What're we doing, then?"

You blinked. Shit. "Uh...I don't know, sorry," you apologised, feeling somewhat sheepish. Cairo gave you a judging look, and you were starting to feel like maybe she was regretting choosing you as her partner. She sighed.

"It's fine. Do you want to maybe come over on Friday? We can work on the paper," she said, playing with her pencil. You frowned.

"I thought Winnie said there was a party on Friday."

Now Cairo looked confused. "Are you going to that?"

"I thought you were?" You questioned, trailing off. She laughed at that, like it was a funny suggestion.

"No, it's not really my scene. Winnie's the partier," she grinned. "A party animal, even."

You nodded, feeling yourself relax a little bit. "That makes sense. You're probably writing or reading instead or something."

She seemed intrigued. "Is that what you think of me? A nerd?"

"Uh..." there was a certain heat flowing towards your cheeks, and it felt like the room was a million degrees. "A little, yeah."

"Wooow!—" Her voice rose in a mocking offence.

"—No, I don't— That's not!— I—"

"You think I'm a geek."

"Yeah, only because you're always reading and stuff, so," you argued, raising your hands up. She laughed.

"So if you read, that makes you a nerd?"

"That's obviously not what I'm saying, but the normal kids just go home and watch a show or something," you shrugged. A beat of silence passed between you, and you groaned, realising your mistake and dragging your hands down your face.

"'Normal', huh?" She asked. You sent her a glare, only to find her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she smiled at you, taking great fun in making you red. Then, within an instant, as if it had been flipped like a switch, the weightless look in her eyes shifted to something far darker.

"You know," she said, and you found your heart catching in your throat. "I don't only read in my free time. I find other things to do." She was back at a whisper, leaning in towards your ear. Each enunciation reverberated in your ear drums and filled your brain with sinful ideation.

"I actually like to do things over and over. Creature of habit, really," she continued and your eyebrows rose. The classroom felt even more humid than it had before, and some sweat was already forming on your forehead. Mr. Miller stood behind his desk, and you felt hyperaware of how he kept glancing towards the both of you, his arms crossed and a deep frown on his face at the almost voyeuristic display.

The bell rang, and just as if nothing had happened, Cairo stood up, gathered her things, and walked off like she had under the bleachers.

"Wait-" You were left frozen there, watching her go out the door and down the hall. It took another ten seconds of sitting there for the spell she had cast on you again to be broken, but when it did, you shot up.

Clumsily you threw your notebook into your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder and taking off as quickly as you could. You wouldn't let Cairo flee.

She was near her locker, where you found her a few halls down. From over her shoulder, Winnie saw you coming, and sent you a friendly wave. Cairo followed her eyes, turning towards you and eyes widening. She was clearly surprised, crossing her arms over her chest as you walked right up to her and stopped.

"I have a question," you said.

"Ask away," said Cairo.

You nodded, thinking for a moment. "Why'd you pick me as your partner in this?"

She scoffed at this, uncrossing her arms and rolling her eyes like you were missing something obvious. It hadn't mattered how loud the passing crowd around you was. You heard her loud and clear, and it filled you with a sense of warmth that you hadn't felt since "fleeting" was just another word in the dictionary and not a mantra.

"Because, I think you're special," she said, only to you in the crowd of passing kids. You couldn't see Mr. Miller watching you both intently from the far wall, one arm crossed over the other.

===+++===

okay so this may or may not be a series i'm starting, but i at least know there is a part two that's already halfway done. part of what took me so long and why i've been gone for like a month has just been me agonising over every damn word. so. enjoy this bad boy ig? not that much happens in this part, but i promise the next part will be kind of crazy.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #miller's girl

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multific · 9 months

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Whatever the Queen Wants

Thranduil x Reader

Summary: On a boring day you have time to walk around, and recall different memories from your past.

You loved taking walks in the woods and your gardens.

Seeing your kingdom bloom and glow just did something to you, it was special.

Spring was your favourite season. Seeing new life everywhere around you made you want to be a mother once again.

You could still recall when your son was born.

Legolas became the center of your world in a simple moment. As soon as the midwife-elf placed him in your arms, it was over.

Both for you and for your husband.

He was the cutest little elfling you have ever seen. Looked just like your husband but behaved just like you.

Even when he was little, you took him out to the gardens on walks, showing him the world. Every single time you looked at all the different rose bushes or hydrangeas all you could see was him as a little elf let's elfling playing amongst them, you just wished you had something to capture that moment with so you would be able to show it to your husband.

Now Legolas was a fully grown up elf, who was more interested in all the different kinds of fighting styles than nature, and also your husband did sometimes had time to spend with you right now he was too busy with his kingly duties, so you were left alone to walk the woods and your gardens.

And that is exactly what you were doing that day. You woke up and somehow amazingly sunny it was that day, so you made your way out to your favorite place in the garden. Your favorite place was where there were these huge hydrangea bushes, all different colors and shapes and sizes you loved every single one of them.

That part of the garden was a present from your husband to you as an anniversary gift. Since he knew how much you adored flowers, he added every single flower that she liked to the garden just to please you.

There were different statues as well in the garden, all of them beautiful.

You left out a long side on your way to your favorite bench. If only you could have the two men who meant so much to you there with you.

You felt so lonely at that moment, it might sound arrogant to some people that the queen was complaining but you really were rather sad that you had to spend such a nice day all alone although you did enjoy every second of it and you did make the best of it, but you still missed both of your boys.

Maybe that's why the idea of having another child was so inviting to you, then you would have finally someone who would need your attention all day long and they would give your attention all day long as well before they grow up. You missed that, you missed having someone who relied on you so much. Legolas it's already too old for him need you in such a way. Even If he did sometimes come over to you asking for your advice it wasn't the same.

When you tried to hint a new baby to your husband but he was too oblivious for your tries or he simply didn’t want to tell you that he did not want another child.

So, you didn’t bring the topic up after that. Although, it did hurt a little bit, you were happy with your life. Even if you felt lonely at times like this, you were happy.

“Naneth,” you heard someone say.

“Oh, Legolas. What are you doing here?” you asked as your son came over to you and sat down next to you.

“You looked lonely, Mother. So, I came to keep you company. Is Father still in a meeting?”

You offered him a kind smile, it warmed your heart that he thought about you.

“He is. But you don’t have to be here, I am not lonely, I have my flowers, you should practice.”

“Nonsense. No training or practice is more important than you, Naneth.”

“Thank you. How was your day?” he always loved to show or talk to you about his training. Ever since he was little he was a quick learner.

“Really good…” then he went on and on about his day. Telling you everything about swords, bows and more.

If you were honest you never truly understood everything he said or referred to but you still listened with a smile. Seeing him be so interested and happy about something warmed your heart.

You listened to everything he had to say. Every single word.

You saw so much of your husband in him. But you were there as well. You still couldn’t believe that you had the privilege to be the mother of this exceptional elf.

“Adar!” said Legolas out of nowhere which made you look the way he was looking. And you saw your husband, walking towards the two of you.

“Nin hén, Nin mel, what are you two doing out here in such an hour?” you failed to notice that the sun started to go down.

“Mother was lonely so I came over to give her some company.” replied Legolas as Thranduil joined you.

“It is getting late, it would be best if we all headed to rest.” you said and both of them agreed. Thranduil guided you towards your chambers after you said your goodbyes to your son.

“We have a wonderful child.” he said as you laid down in bed.

“Indeed, I cannot believe he is so big, I feel like I can still recall holding him as a young elfling.” you let out a long sigh at the happy memory as you felt your husband’s arms move you towards him. “I have been thinking, Nin mel.”

“About?”

“Another child.” Thranduil almost jumped up as you said that.

“A-another?”

“I have been feeling lonely with Legolas leaving us so frequently and with you being in meetings all day. I always wanted a daughter as well, you know that.”

“I do. I know it.”

“It was a silly idea.” you said after his long silence. “Forget it, Thranduil. I’ll be fine.”

“We can have another child. I’m only thinking of ways to ensure it would be a girl.” his confession nearly made you choke on air, then you smiled.

“No need. I would be happy with a boy as well.” you said as you pulled him closer and kissed him.

Thranduil knew, whatever the Queen of Mirkwood wanted, she got it.

Translation:

Naneth – Mother

Adar – Father

Nin hén – My child

Nin mel - My love

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

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mediumgayitalian · 1 month

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Nico is pretty sure, at this point, that something has gone wrong. A chasm has opened up, a trap went haywire, an explosion went off and blew up half the camp. Something drastic has to have happened to make everyone go quiet.

But the rocks of Zeus’ fist are sun-warmed. A sweet-smelling breeze ruffles brand new leaves, musses his hair, although it’s hot enough that he’s rolled up the cuffs of his jeans and forgone a sweater. Will is on guard duty next to him, and no one has come to bother them in hours, and he cannot bring himself to care.

“Found one!”

“No way,” Nico protests, leaning over to see. “It’s been ten minutes!”

In the palm of the cupped hand Will holds out between them, held loose so as not to crush it, is a four-leaf clover. One of the more picturesque ones, too; emerald green, heart-shaped leaves, delicately crimped, and a thin curling stem tapered perfectly down the middle.

Will shrugs, smiling. There’s enough bitten-back teasing in his expression that it looks more like a smirk. “I guess I’m just lucky.”

“Lucky I don’t smite you, maybe,” Nico grumbles. “Go away. Your bad vibes are hindering my success.”

Snorting, Will does, shuffling back over to let Nico comb through the clover thatch in peace. He stretches out on the grass — he ditched his shoes and helmet and armour the literal second the rest of the team ran off, the dork — and shifts ‘til he’s comfortable, ankles crossed, hands behind his head, eyes closed. Nico pictures him with a piece of straw sticking out of his mouth and a cowboy hat resting over his eyes and giggles to himself. The image is so clear he’s half-certain it was a vision.

“Though you were tryin’ to focus,” Will mutters, cracking one eye open.

Nico sticks his tongue out. “I’m trying, derpface. All your shifting around is distracting.”

“I’ve moved maybe three times.”

“Yeah, in as many minutes.”

Will, without looking, plucks a blade of grass and flicks it at him. “Stay focused, Death Breath.” He stretches his arms above his head, sighing. “I’m gonna nap.”

He doesn’t move when Nico flings a handful of (regular) clovers at him, infuriatingly serene. He’s trained himself to fall asleep anywhere, anything to catch up on the sleep debt he’s been wracking up for years, and the sunny patch of clearing in the first they’re in is one of the nicer places Nico has found him passed out. At least here he can stretch out, sit in the sun — Nico found him tucked in between the camp washer and dryer, once, curled under a stack of laundry baskets. He’d made a valiant effort to hide himself from accident-prone younger siblings and best friends who invite mortal wrath, but his snoring had given him away. Nico’d heard him outside the building.

Here, though, no one is bothering them. Chiron’s playing field medic, the infirmary has been stocked, the Ares kids were cursed by Clovis and co. last week and have been asleep since. There haven’t been any echoing screams of agony. No desperate IMs. Nico, even, makes sure to keep his sword within reach, armour still firmly strapped, quietly on guard so Will doesn’t have to be. For once, he can take up as much space as he likes, bare skin absorbing the sun that has outshined the clouds perhaps for the express purpose of keeping him toasty even without a blanket.

Nico drags his eyes back towards the clovers, smiling. He’s cute when he sleeps. Sometimes he mumbles, nonsensical ramblings of the half-conscious, too slurred for Nico to make much sense of it. He catches bits and pieces of words and phrases as he picks through the soft leaves; lemme try, twice, as he watches a ladybug hop her way over a stone; careful with that, as he tosses a handful of regular, three-leaf clovers into the air; and notably diphenhydramine as he digs his hand through the soft dirt to yank out a worm.

Nico turns to face him. “You’re a nerd,” he says solemnly.

Will snores in response.

“Sleep quieter, why don’t you.”

The thing about Will is that he is like a tapeworm.

Nico means this in the best possible way. They start out invisible — sure, you might feel the irritation of something new burrowing its way into your person, but it’s not your most pressing concern. You’ve maybe got other things on your mind. You’re not focused, intensely, on how tiny changes are happening to you; you’re eating more, moving more, sleeping weird. Sometimes this happens. It’s nothing notable.

Slowly, though, you start to change. There’s this…cavern, inside of you, that you’re suddenly aware of. Maybe it was always there. You’re struck, more and more each day, with the need to fill yourself. To consume. You are aware, for the first time in years, that you have not had enough. There has been an emptiness inside you. And now there’s this driving force making home inside you instead, pushing you to take enough to not just survive but to thrive. You’re capable, now, in a way you weren’t before, to feel your needs, your wants. To listen to them. There is something that has worked it’s way inside you and grown and grown and grown and forced you, alongside it, to care about yourself enough to maintain its life inside you.

Will would probably not appreciate being compared to a parasite. It might be funny to tell him anyway, though. Watch his eye twitch as he tries to find a diplomatic way to ask Nico what the fuck his deal is. He’ll have to tell him when he wakes up.

A quiet groaning noise has him looking up again; the sound of rustling clothes and twisting grass.

“Y’r smirkin’.”

Speak of the devil. Or parasite.

Nico picks at a tangled stem. “What are your thoughts on tapeworms?”

“Generally bad,” Will says, yawning. He doesn’t seem fazed at all by the random question — he usually isn’t. People ask him a lot of strange things, generally. Like, how many consecutive concussions are medically unsound? (any, dude, please), or what is the recommended liquid amount of iron to swallow to fortify your blood? (none, please don’t fucking swallow liquid iron), or perhaps most notable are you up for learning how to un-do cerebral paralysis within the next ten seconds? (no, Jesus Christ, get off the fucking roof and set down the wax wings, do you people learn nothing ever).

“What about tapeworms as a metaphor for friendship?”

“…That’s a new one, I’ll give you that.”

Hell yes. Point to Nico.

“D’you find one, yet?”

Nico’s face drops into a scowl. “No.”

He doesn’t understand how Will found a four-leaf so quickly. Nico’s been looking for much longer, and the clover patch is huge — statistically, he should have found one by now, right? It just makes sense.

Will hums, dragging himself to his knees and then somersaulting over. He lands legs sprawled over a smattering of pebbles, head by Nico’s knees. Nico reaches out and flicks his temples, just to watch him wrinkle his nose in protest.

“Whattaya so bent on getting one for, anyway?”

Nico shrugs, looking away. “Luck.”

“Duh.” Will pokes his thigh. “What for?”

“None of your business, nosy.”

“Well, that just made me a thousand times more interested. I was going to let it go, before, but now —”

“You’re so full of shit,” Nico huffs, grinning. Will matches his look with a shameless smile, placing his hands under his chin in a caricature of cherubic innocence.

“Why, whatever do you mean.”

“I mean —” he punctuates every word with a pinch — “that you have to know every detail —”

“Ack! Stop!”

“— of everybody else’s lives —”

“Hey! Derek Hale! Put the claws away!”

“— at any given time —”

“I am going to scream!”

“— or you’ll die.”

He acquires, finally, to Will’s screeching and writhing, pushing him away with one last poke. He pouts, looking at Nico with round, wounded eyes.

“You’re so mean to me.”

“You invite it, honestly.”

“By caring about you, you butthead.”

Nico rolls his eyes, fighting back a smile. “Yeah, yeah.”

Looking for the four-leaf is different with Will watching him. Different, somehow, even though he’s quiet, chin resting on his knees, eyes following Nico’s searching hands. Every shift has Nico’s breath catching, fingers twitching at his minute hums, his tapping fingers. He’s distracting. If Nico was struggling to find the lucky clover before, it’s hopeless now. Will drags his attention like the core of the Earth drags everything towards it.

“Hey,” Will murmurs, poking Nico with his toe. “Take mine.”

Nico glances up to find his hand, again, outstretched between them, four-leaf clover centred in the palm of his wide hands. His eyes watch every minute shift of Nico’s form, his stuttered breath, sweating palms. Bitten lip, shifting eyes.

“…You don’t know what I need it for.”

“I don’t need to.” Blue, blue, blue eyes. Ridiculously so, really. An exact match for the sky no matter what time of day; olympic blue, now, an perfect reflection of the late afternoon. “Take it.”

He thrusts his hand out farther. Heart pounding, Nico does, lightly pinching the stem between his thumb and forefinger, keeping his hand curled on Will’s.

He promised himself. One to ten thousand chance — if he found one, he’d do it.

It counts.

“Hey, Will.”

Blue widely above him, encroached by the canopy. Blue flapping in the wind behind him, perched on Zeus’ fist. Blue on the plumes of his helmet. Blue in the lavender, in the grape hyacinth, in the cornflowers.

Blue, blue, blue eyes, meeting his, flicking down. Flicking hastily back up again.

Nico tugs, gently, on his wrist. He moves where Nico directs him. Easily.

Up. Down. Up again. Perfect rings, thinning against a growing expanse of black.

Nico darts forward and kisses him. He sighs into it, immediately, hand going limp in Nico’s hold. The clover flutters to the ground between them, disappearing once again in a sea of green.

“You didn’t need luck for this,” Will mumbles.

Nico tilts their heads to rest closer together and kisses him ‘til he’s quiet.

#this is so dorky and random u can tell i haven’t slept LMFAO #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #solangelo #100 ways #100 ways to say i love you #banter #flirting #my writing #fic #longpost

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sunnysduet · 5 months

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btw banana fish modern the song of achilles au... ash achilles eiji patroclus... can you imagine (it's all i've been thinking about since i finished the anime i'm genuinely not joking i think about it once an hour)

#banana fish #the song of achilles #patrochilles #asheiji #sunny says nonsense

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danikamariewrites · 6 months

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could i request one with rhys x reader where he is so incredibly in love with her it’s ridiculous. He is such a simp for her, she literally only has to ask and he gets her anything she wants. one day she jokes about him being very generous and says

” i’m sure if i ask for a golden pony, you’ll find a way”

next day he’s visiting Helion and asks for a golden pony.

The ic even makes fun of how much he simps for reader. One day they’re all walking in velaris to go to ritas and readers strap on her heel slips. Rhys gets on his knees to fix it with no hesitation. The inner circle looks at him with incredible shock and their jaws are dropped. Bc in acomaf it says that he has sacred tattoos on his knees and will never bow for no one and nothing but his crown. it’s the first time they ever see rhys on his knees for someone. Reader doesn’t know ab it and just says thank you and they continue walking. After a while he confesses to her and she feels the same and live happy forever 😁😁

Only For You

Rhys x reader

A/n: this is so freakin cute and writing this had me kicking my feet giggling

Warnings: none

You and Rhys had grown up together, so his kindness and generosity was nothing new to you. Whenever you needed or even just wanted something Rhys would get it for you. New shoes? Done, he knows what style you like. Need new clothes? He has your size and his tailor knows exactly what to make you.

You had always insisted on paying you back but he never let you. Rhys would always say, “Nonsense y/n. I like biting you things so please let me get this for you.” You’d breathe out a sigh of defeat and cup his cheek. “Thank you Rhys. I swear if I asked for a golden Pegasus you’d find me one.”

Rhys cherished your warm touch. He loved your soft skin and how gentle you are with him. The High Lord was so clearly in love with you but he was too afraid to admit it. If Rhys lost you as a friend because of his feelings he doesn’t know how he’d go on.

And he didn’t forget about that golden Pegasus. It was your 450th birthday present and you named her Sunny.

Tonight you were all headed to Rita’s to unwind after a busy work week. Mor had teased you about Rhys while you got ready together. “He’s completely and utterly in love with you! How can you not see he is wrapped around your finger.”

You had just rolled your eyes and laughed at your friend. “We’ve been friends for centuries Mor. Rhys would’ve said something by now. I just have to deal with that.” Deep down you were mad,y in love with Rhys. You just kept telling yourself he didn’t feel the same way. It made everything easier. You two were just friends after all.

Walking to Rita’s you and Cassian were hanging on each other crying laughing at something Mor said about Amren. Your heel caught in a crack of the cobblestone, causing the strap of your shoe to come undone. “Oops, hold on a second, my shoe.”

The group stopped as you lifted your dress a little to asses the damage. Before you could fix it, Rhys was on his knees looking up at you with a small smile. “I got it for you darling.”

His fingers gently grazed your ankle, sending a shiver up your body. You watched as Rhys carefully buckled the strap around your ankle again. Without thinking he caressed your calf and looked up at you. You swear you saw hearts in his eyes.

You run your fingers through his soft raven locks, bringing your hand down to caress his face, holding his chin. Giving it a small squeeze you say, “Thanks Rhys.” Mor giggles and takes your arm, pulling you ahead of the boys.

Cassian and Azriel stare at their brother with their jaws on the ground. Rhys stands, brushing off his pants. “I thought you said-“ Cassian started. Rhys cut him off, “Only for my equal.” Cassian didn’t think it was possible but he felt his jaw unhinge more at Rhys’s confession.

Rhys started to follow you and Mor while Cassian stood frozen. Azriel came up next to him closing his mouth and patting him on the back. “I can’t believe I knew before you.” He said with a smug look on his face.

When you woke up the next morning something felt different. You felt a light in your chest, pulling you out of your room.

Getting ready you follow that pull down the hall all the way to Rhys’s office. You find him sitting in his armchair, seemingly contemplating something. You felt nervousness radiating off him. Not only could you hear his heartbeat, but you swore you felt it in your own chest.

Pausing, you place your hand over your heart. You slowly approach him. Resting a hand on his shoulder Rhys leans back into the cushioned seat, placing his hand over yours. Rhys looked up at you with a hope on his beautiful face. The light of the fire in the hearth before him highlighting his high cheekbones and perfect jawline.

Closing your eyes you took a chance and reached out down that new glowing bond. Towards Rhys. Towards unconditional love. Rhys gripped your hand tighter as he let out a shaky breath.

Opening your eyes you found Rhys’s line with silver. You blinked your own tears away as you looked at him with adoration. “I’ve loved you for so long,” he whispered. “I said I’d never bow before anyone or anything but my crown. That changed when I found you, my equal in every sense of the word.”

Rhys pulled you onto his lap. “I love you too Rhys,” you whispered back, “I’ll share that crown with you for the rest of our lives.”

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #rhysand fluff #rhysand x reader #rhysand imagine #rhysand acotar #rhysand #rhysand x you #rhysand x reader fluff

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percivex · 2 years

Text

"What is love?" The universe asks at the end of the first week, in a world where ones cannot live without their others.

"Care." Impulse replies. "Communication. Defending them with all your worth and trusting they'll do the same."

"And a clock." Bdubs adds earnestly, hanging off Impulse's arm as he places a hand over the clock he keeps by his heart like a wedding ring.

Impulse looks at him and smiles, sunny and fond and full of life. "And a clock."

"Understanding," Tango says, rubbing an awkward hand over his upper arm, where explosion scars lay hidden beneath his sleeve, "and a willingness to work it out."

"Acceptance, I think," Jimmy offers lightly, drifting to his side and placing a warm hand on his scarred upper arm, "and unconditional support."

Tango cracks a grin, light dancing in yellow eyes. "Oh, I like the sound of that."

"Perfect, if I do say so myself!" Ren declares brightly, wrapping an arm around BigB and drawing him close to his side as they overlook their box of a base.

"Kind," BigB says in agreement, leaning into the motion and beaming, "and everything I could've wanted."

"Chaotic." Etho settles on, laughter thick in his voice.

"I think you mean fun," Joel retorts, resting his elbow on his shoulder with a cheeky grin, "and mutually beneficial."

"Or mutually detrimental," Etho corrects him with a snicker, shrugging his arm off, "but we're stuck together, either way."

Joel chuckles, nudging Etho's side a little too hard and feeling the pinch in his own. "Isn't that part of the fun?"

"Difficult." Grian huffs as treks through the woodland with his hand tight around Scar's, before dropping to a gentler mumur. "Unbelievable and very, very difficult."

"Overrated!" Scar laughs, but he silences and softens as Grian steadies him when he trips over nothing. They continue walking, and he confesses to himself, under his breath and carefully hopeful. "Laughter, warmth and loyalty, in that order."

"A choice." Cleo insists sourly, folding her arms over her chest, steadfast in her decision and thrumming with a stranger's pain. "A bond built on something real, and not expectation."

"Free." Scott muses simply from beside her, looking up at the sky and scorning the asker.

"A load of nonsense, that's what it is!" Martyn complains as he storms off alone, bitter and self-righteous, knuckles bruised and aching from his own fists. He falters in his march with a grimace, rubbing at his chest, where it feels like something is missing, and he adds, quieter, "...and painful."

Pearl doesn't answer for a long moment. She stares after Martyn's retreating back, at where Scott once stood, and then down at her hands.

Finally, she sighs as her vision wobbles, and she whispers, tentative and fragile, "I wouldn't know."

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blorbocedes · 2 months

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For the prompt game: woke up in the wrong body? Clonecest? German twincest? They get freaky friday'd? Whatever your heart desires

Lewis doesn't actually notice anything’s wrong until Nico says, “Don’t worry, we’ll be good. Right, Lew?” to Toto at the end of the Wednesday debrief, flashing a sunny smile.

Lewis stiffens immediately. Nico hasn't called him that in years. What angle is he playing at here? And since when does he joke around during debriefs? Thinking back, Nico had been bouncing around the garage, peeking at both their cars’ suspensions and chatting animatedly to the engineers, even on Lewis’ side of the garage.

The meeting ends, with Toto and Paddy dispersing the team and Nico hangs around, lingering.

“What was that back there?”

Nico sways, shifting his weight from one heel to the other. “Just being good teammates. Buddies, friends.”

Before Lewis can react, Sebastian Vettel storms in with his Ferrari race suit unzipped at the waist, snapping in rapid German.

Nico looks guilty in a sheepish way, says something back that Lewis can only make out his name from.

What the fuck is going on?

Lewis turns to Seb because he doesn't want to deal with Nico being weird. “Hey, man, you're not supposed to be here.”

Seb grimaces, it looks all wrong on his mouth. And his hair is… styled? Coiffed, almost. Lewis wasn't aware Sebastian owned a brush. Nico, on the other hand, had completely unstyled hair today, bangs falling over his eyes like he air dried after taking a shower; not his usual put together self. Lewis doesn't think about him or his hair routine to wonder why.

“You are right,” Seb says with none of his usual playfulness. His mouth is flattened into a thin line. “Nico, a word?”

“Am I in trouble?” Nico quips. “I barely even looked at the cars! Seriously, might be better for your championship chances if you're not dangling your balls in the pool.”

It's a pretty nonsensical remark, especially from Nico who uses controlled diplomacy as a double edged sword. Sebastian, on the other hand, frowns – eyebrows scrunching and mouth going in an almost perfect displeased scowl. It doesn't suit Seb, but it's a face he’s seen a million times on Nico, has teased out of him, has put it on every time he misses a pole, a win, a podium. The way Nico’s standing, his hair, the way he's carrying himself – it's all wrong.

Lewis grabs Nico by the arm. “You're not –” Lewis doesn't even finish his accusation because it's absurd.

Nico looks at him, surprised, and then breaks into a shit-eating grin, self possessed and cocky. “He really doesn't give you enough credit. He thought you wouldn't notice.”

“I shouldn't have trusted you to act normal.” Is Sebastian’s sullen reply, eyes narrowed and zeroed in on where Lewis is holding Nico’s arm. Lewis lets go, suddenly self-conscious.

He hates this, being talked over like he's not even there. The mechanics are starting to notice from outside that Sebastian Vettel in red in their conference room, as if Silvia’s going to come chasing after him any minute. Lewis’ curiosity wins over the facade of being cool and not cracking in case Sebastian and Nico woke up and decided to become best friends and pull an orchestrated prank on him.

“Will either of you tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“Lewis, we need to talk. Somewhere private. Your motorhome.” Sebastian’s tone is bossy, standing arms crossed. He doesn't wait, setting off with a determined ease like he knows exactly where it is.

Nico follows suit, adding in a stage whisper, “By that, he means sex.”

#is this anything?#my fics #sebcedes #blorbocedes ask #f1 rpf #freaky Friday sebcedes

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cthulhusstepmom · 10 months

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Evidence that Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish is not what he seems-Lt. SR:

Soap smells like rain, it took a while to put it together because it's not Soap himself that emits the odor, it just follows him. It's less potent inside and when it's sunny outdoors but if you concentrate it's always there.

He has never been observed touching a gun or grenades without gloves. Almost every other explosive he handles with no regard for his own safety gloves.

HE EATS WEIRD SHIT. While he doesn't eat much of the food on offer from the cafe, he does eat consistently when outdoors, usually plants or flowers. Things he has eaten: dandelions(edible), garlic(edible), thistle(edible but he ate it with the thorns), foxglove(toxic, showed no adverse reaction), Several unidentified flowers and berries, grass(technically edible?) Etc.

Will sometimes refuse to enter a place before abruptly going in. The data is not consistent between different buildings or locations. Further research is required.

Sharp teeth.

Groups things in nonsensical ways. He will only fill a magazine with bullets that total a multiple of 7 or 3. The same for what weights he uses in the gym. When drawing or eating he sorts by 4s. He traded his room to get #13 (right next door, coincidence?).

Cameras will not focus on him, whether photo or video he is never in focus regardless of distance or conditions.

He has never once been in medical for more than half an hour, usually much less. Even though his hands have light burns on them almost constantly.

Dogs hate him. He seems ambivalent towards them and he's never been bit that Ive seen. Cats adore him as do birds.

John MacTavish does not blush. Not for lack of trying even when genuinely flustered or hot, his skin does not flush.

Ghost sets down the small notebook with a minute sound of frustration. The evidence is all there but looking at it, what does it really say? Other than that he's an obsessive creep. A series of quirks and coincidences compiled by a paranoid son of a bitch into a fucking stalker journal. But still, Simon can't help but feel like he's right and he'd be dead a million times over if he simply disregarded his intuition. Even if it is something batshit insane.

At this point however it seems that it'll drive him mad far before it yields any answers. After scouring what little resources were comprehensible on the internet he'd started growing out his hair, intent on tying it in knots to prevent charms. Leaving him with a problem he'd not encountered since he'd first donned the mask: unruly curls and balaclavas don't mix well at all. He'd also kept a piece of stale bread in his pocket for days as he'd read it was a repellent to- and he can't even believe he's considering it-fairies. It backfired, if anything Johnny had been more attached to him and even more touchy than usual. He'd left a small deli cup full of coffee creamer outside his door overnight and found it neatly placed upside down where he'd left it with not a drop left. Ghost chalked that up to some wise guy playing a joke or an exceptionally dextrous cat and firmly shut the door on any other possibilities in his mind. His next test had been a gift of clothing mixed with complements, he'd read that both were likely to drive away any Other. It hadn't been a very extravagant gift, a new pair of gloves and a gruff "well done Johnny" but at the time it had seemed to be the final nail in the coffin as Soap had gone white as a sheet(he can do that but he can't blush???) and scurried off. A quiet dread had filled his stomach the whole day until Soap turned up at dinner, a little quieter than usual but wearing his new gloves and eating more than usual(a scoop and a half of mashed potatoes with 4 packets of butter and 2 packets of sour cream as well as a cookie. The main course of spaghetti and meatballs went untouched though Gaz snapped it up before it could truly go to waste). Though when Ghost returned to his room late that night after trudging through hours of paperwork he found a pile of tiny, aromatic, pink flowers on the floor in front of his door and on top of them a shiny metal comb. Simon's tired brain hardly stopped to think of any of the dire warnings he'd found on forum posts and folklore sites alike, crouching and tenderly retrieving the piece from its bed of flora, careful not to crush any of the tiny blooms. Well... With all the knots in his hair-purposeful and otherwise-he's going to need a sturdy comb anyway.

#fae!soap #superstitious bastard!Ghost #little does Ghost know that Scottish fairies actually favor bread instead of being repelled by it #meanwhile the whole clothing trick would have totally worked if it weren't for the fact that Soap took as a courting gesture #also the idea of Ghost leaving out two ounces of hazelnut coffee creamer and Soap just feeling his heart beating out of his chest #but he doesnt want to be presumptuous so he waits until hes got absolute confirmation that Ghost wishes to court him #and he gives him gloves...so he can touch him and not be burned by the iron #Soap is simultaneously three steps ahead and six steps behind #cod mw2 #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #fae!au #and to think i wanted to upload this to ao3 😑

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ghouljams · 11 months

Note

I just ascended while reading that Ballet!König and now I must politely ask for more serotonin via your Demon!Reader au - ☀️

Oh Sunny, I have a feeling you are going to like this.

There's a rumor among spec operators that gets squashed by the higher ups any time it starts circulating again. They say the really good(or bad considering which side of the gun you're on) operators are shadowed by demons. That any man who spills that much blood, loses enough of himself, will invite the devil himself into his steps. Command is always quick to dismiss these rumors as metaphorical nonsense, and Ghost for one is happy for that.

He's never been one for superstition, and having recruits tittering about demons and ghosts other than him is more than a little annoying when he's trying to brief them. That's one of the many perks of being in the 141. No recruits. No rumors.

Ghost grabs an enemy combatant, shooting out their knee before twisting them over his shoulder to flip them onto their back. One last bullet, clean between the eyes, to put them out of their misery.

"Perimeter secure," He tells Soap over the comms. The static comes in waves, rushing back and forth in his ear like the ocean tide. He taps his ear piece. "Soap, how copy?"

The body jerks, blood bubbling and gurgling from every hole. It jerks again, like it can't find a proper position to die in. Ghost trains his gun on it again, waiting. Waiting for what? For it to spring back to life? Christ man, get a hold of yourself. It still, blood still pouring from it. More blood than Ghost thought a body could hold. It pools closer to his boots and he steps back from it with a grimace. The blood stops. The static stops.

"Soap, how copy?" He repeats quickly.

"Ghost? Steamin' hell mate, thought we'd lost you." Soap's voice rings clear over the comm line, Ghost frowns, "Been over an hour, what the fuck have you been doing?"

He feels heavy. Making his way to the extraction point, sitting in the chopper, briefing Price on what the hell happened. Heavy as he finally collapses onto his bed in the barracks. He doesn't even bother turning the lights on, barely remembers to tug his mask off before he hits the pillow. He rolls onto his back and stares into the darkness at the ceiling.

Two eyes stare back at him, glowing, watching, as a weight settles on his chest. They tip and blink curiously at him.

"You've been doing very well for yourself," A soft feminine voice tells him.

"Debatable." Ghost tells you, hearing a hum of agreement.

"True, I think you could be doing much better with me."

"I'm fuckin' dreamin'." He tries to move, tries to conjure any feeling but the interminable stillness that's blanketed him. The lights flick on, and it's not the eyes, it's the teeth, the pearl smile that seems to promise him everything, for a price.

The woman sitting on his chest is... well just that, a woman sitting on his chest. Gorgeous with the overhead light haloing you. If the horns weren't casting shadows over him he'd almost think you were an angel. If he is dreaming, it's a damn good one.

"The hell are you," He mumbles, watching you curl like a cat to look deeper into his eyes.

"Shouldn't you know? You're the one that summoned me."

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #x reader #I'm gonna write the spy au intro too because it's more Ghost having to deal with insane women #I really was gonna do a similar summary for this as with Konig's ballet au #but then I was like actually I know exactly how I want this to go #turns out if you kill enough people the universe will assign you a girlfriend #demon!Darling au #☀️ anon

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envirae · 10 months

Text

from the start — park jay

pairing: best friend!jay x gn!reader

genre: fluff

wc: 1k

warnings: swearing, pining, mentions of jungwon and yunjin from lsf, reader is super dense lol, not proofread! jay's listening to... from the start - laufey

"you're crazy. and i don't mean crazy in a wild and funny way like riki, i mean you're genuinely crazy if you think you'll be okay letting him get away like this." sunoo deadpanned. he was always good at being brutally honest with you, but that doesn't mean his bluntness was always appreciated.

"well what exactly do you expect me to do? we'll both be going off to uni in a month. even if he did feel the same way, long distance would never work out." you sighed. it feels as if you and your brother have this conversation almost weekly.

"you're like a broken record. every time you insist that things between you would never work out, but every time, i see the way you smile at him. i hear your laugh when he tells one of his stupid jokes, which— by the way are not that funny, and i hear you cry in your room every time he goes out on a date with another girl." you remain silent, unsure of what to say. you always hate it when sunoo is right. "i give you a lot of shit for your stupid crush, but you're still my sister, and i don't like seeing you in pain."

your phone buzzes on the bed, and unsurprisingly, it's jay. "i'm outside."

sunoo stares at the notification and gives you a knowing look before you stand up from his bed. "you don't have to do anything you don't want to. but, i don't want you to hold yourself back from doing anything you do want to do, either."

"thanks sunoo. i'll try to keep in mind what you told me." he sends you a soft smile as you walk out.

when jay sees you walk outside, he immediately exits the car and heads to the passenger side to open the door for you. "such a gentleman, aren't you?" you joke, getting into his car.

"well of course, only the best treatment for my best friend" he grins, closing the door after you and quickly returning to the drivers seat.

"where to?" you ask, putting your seatbelt on as he starts the car.

"i was thinking we could head downtown, a new boba place just opened up. we could get drinks and take a walk around the park." he knows that it sounds like your idea of a perfect day, and he doesn't have to look over at you to know there's a big smile on your face right now. though he still does, just because he wants to see your smile.

"you know me so well. i have the best best friend in the world." he hums in agreement and continues driving.

after you pick up your drinks, you leave the car behind and cross the street to go to the park. it's a sunny day, and the two of you walk around the park talking about whatever nonsense comes to mind.

jay's phone begins to ring, but his face turns sour when he checks it. he declines the call and puts it back in his pocket. "who was that?" you ask.

"just jungwon, he's nagging me to finish packing. i told him i'd get around to it."

you nod in understanding. "i thought it was yunjin." yunjin was jay's most recent love interest, and you let out a pained chuckle, not wanting to let jay know just how much you hate the thought of them together.

"oh her? we stopped talking a few weeks ago. she wasn't looking for anything serious, and you know how i am. i wanted more." he sighs.

"that's too bad, i know you really liked her." you attempt to console him, but he doesn't seem too sad about it.

"it's alright. things happen. it just shows that she wasn't meant for me. she tried to use the fact that we're both moving as a scapegoat, but i think it's bullshit. if you really like someone, and you want to be with them, shouldn't you put in the work to be with them? even if it's not easy?" he asks, almost a little frustrated.

the two of you walk in silence for a bit, and your breath catches in your throat as something in your mind says "fuck it. "

"i would." you mumble. you're incredibly quiet, but jay still manages to hear you.

"what?"

you've stopped walking now, and jay is standing directly in front of you. "i would put in the work to be with you, even if it wasn't easy, jay. to tell you the truth, i've been in love with you since we were kids. and i've waited for you this long, but i would a thousand years to be with you if i had to. you're the only person i could ever imagine loving."

you feel like you've just been pushed off a cliff, and you're bracing yourself for impact, unsure if the land beneath you is going to be soft, or hit you like a rock.

he stares at you, speechless. "why did you never tell me?" he asks with a shaky voice.

"i was scared! i knew you didn't feel the same way about me but i just had to tell you before we both leave. i never wanted to lose you but—" you start rambling, but jay cuts you off.

"i'm in love with you too, y/n. and i would also wait a thousand years to be with you if i had to."

now it's your turn to be speechless, but the silence doesn't last long. he pulls you in for a kiss. you feel like you must be dreaming, because there's no way jay has felt the same way as you this whole time.

when you both pull away, he pushes the hair out of your face and smiles at you. "i would wait an eternity to be with you, y/n, because that's how long i've loved you. and that's how long i will continue to love you."

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onepiece-fics · 6 months

Text

The strawhats reacting to receiving gifts

Summary: How do the strawhats react to receiving (personal) gifts? Gender neutral reader.

Authors note: Soooo the request was a lot more general than what I ended up writing but I hope this still works <3

Also I added links for pictures for most of their gifts if you're curious of how I imagined it :)

Warnings: Chopper and Brook are FULLY platonic!!

Word count: 2346

Luffy

Neither Luffy nor you are very materialistic people, but giving gifts isn’t always about that. You love doing various little crafts. You decided a while ago to start learning how to crochet, and your first project was gonna be to make a little crochet plush of Thousand Sunny!

After about a week of working on your project, you finally finish it, and you’re ready to give it to your captain. You go out to the lawn deck, seeing him playing around with Chopper in what looks like a game of tag. Of course, your captain is winning by quite a lot due to his powers. You shake your head before you call his name, feeling bad for the reindeer with the frustrated expression on his face.

“Luffy! Could you come here for a second?” you call out. He stops dead in his tracks and looks at you, arms behind your back. His interest is immediately piqued at how suspicious you look.

“Oh! Y/N! Whatcha got behind your back?” he asks, voice full of excitement. He tries to look behind your back, turning around your body to see what's in your hands.

“Here! I made this for you” you say, holding your arms out to show him the plush. It takes him a minute to register what you’re holding out to him, but when he sees what it is his face lights up with his iconic grin.

“Y/N!! That’s awesome!! You made Sunny!” he can’t hold his excitement anymore and he lifts you up by your waist and spins you around in a circle. He lets you go and looks intensely at the plush.

“Oh my god, I have to show Franky… Chopper look at it!!” he shows the reindeer whose face also lits up. He turns to you again, taking ahold of your shoulders with a grin on his face.

“This is absolutely amazing. Thank you so much” he says and gives you a peck on the cheek before he runs off to find Franky.

Zoro

Zoro is one of those people who’s absolutely awful at both giving and receiving gifts, but honestly, that’s part of the fun for you. On the last island you were at you found a jewelry shop and found a cool-looking bracelet that you knew you had to buy for him, and you couldn't wait to see his reaction.

“Zoro!” you exclaim as you see him waiting for you on the ship. His face lights up as he sees you and he greets you with an arm around your shoulder as you come up to him.

“I got you something!” you say, a smile wide on your face. He looks surprised, a blush on his face coming immediately.

“For me? Y/N you really don’t have to give me anything…” he starts as he receives the bag from the store and looks inside.

“Nonsense. I saw it and I thought of you so I wanted to give it to you” you tell him. He opens up the packaging the bracelet lays inside and takes it out, admiring the handiwork done on it. “Do you like it?” you ask as he puts it on his wrist.

“Uhm. Yeah, it’s really cool…” he says, blush still on his face. You know him well enough to tell that he loves it, even if he can’t express it well. The way his face flushes red will forever expose how he truly feels.

Nami

As much as Nami obsesses with money, you know that what truly makes a good gift for her are handmade ones. That’s why you decided to make friendship bracelets for the two of you. At first, you were scared she would find it silly, but after finding the cutest pearls and decorations on the last island, you knew you had to do it.

“Nami! I got you something!” you say as you approach her. She’s sitting under the tangerine trees, book in her hands and leaning against one of the trees. She looks up at you and smiles.

“Lean your arm out and close your eyes” you order and she obeys, putting her book aside. You carefully put the bracelet around her wrist and she smiles, she can tell just by the feeling of it what it is. As she opens her eyes her face lights up.

“Y/N! It’s so cute oh my god! Thank you!” she immediately gets up to hug you tightly, squeezing you tightly. You laugh at her reaction and hug her back. She pulls away from you to admire the jewelry on her wrist.

“Did you make this?!” she asks excitedly and you nod.

“Yeah, and I made a matching one for myself too!” you say, feeling your face heat up with a blush. Nami squeals in excitement and brings you in for another hug. She’s such a sucker for handmade gifts.

Usopp

Having found a funny-looking book in a bookstore, you knew that you needed to give it to Usopp. He needed to read it out loud for story time with you and Chopper. The three of you are sitting in the library, about to have your weekly tradition of listening to Usopp's stories.

“Oh, Usopp, I found this book, you should try reading it for us today!” you say excitedly. He takes the book and inspects it closely.

“Hmm, I suppose I could… I can’t promise it’ll be up to Captain Usopp's standards though!” he says, a smile on his face. You and Chopper shuffle excitedly, getting cozy and preparing for the story to begin.

“Wait, where did you find this?” he asks as he opens the book. His face is full of confusion and he’s scratching his head.

“Oh, I just found it in a bookstore at the last island…?” you reply, confused. “Is there something wrong with it?” you ask.

“No… It’s just… This is a very famous book from East Blue… And there seems to be an autograph from the original author…!” his face lights up as he turns to look at you. “Thank you so much, Y/N, this is so amazing! I can’t believe I get to read this all over again… And with his autograph…”

You smile at his excitement. A happy Usopp is a happy you.

Sanji

You know for a fact that Sanji will always love anything you give him, regardless of what it is. You still think he deserves the best of the best though, so you decide to crochet some nice and warm gloves for him. One night you both have nightly surveillance duty, and seeing him lighting his cigarette in the cold weather, hands shaking from the freezing air, you knew it was the perfect moment to give him his gift.

“Ah, Sanji, I made you something” you softly tell him. Taking it out of your pockets, you hand him a small present, all wrapped up in cute wrapping paper.

“Oh dearest! Thank you so much, but why so suddenly?” he asks as he receives the present. His cheeks are blushing and he has a warm smile on his face as he unwraps his gift. He gasps as he sees the gloves, soft wooly patterns across the palms, with the fingers freed at the top.

“Oh, you know… I just figured it was cold for you in the winter when you light your cigarette and all that…” you tell him shyly. He brings you in for a big hug and places his head on yours.

“Thank you so much, Y/N. I really don’t deserve this but… Thank you” he says, giving you a kiss on the top of your head. You snuggle into his chest and let out a content sigh.

“Sanji, you deserve all the gifts in the world”.

Chopper

You absolutely adore Chopper, just like everyone else, and you just absolutely LOVE making him even cuter. Having found a cute, pink scarf on the island you were visiting, you couldn’t not give it to him.

As you approach the deer from behind, carefully sneaking, you softly wrap the scarf around his neck. He lets out a noise of surprise and turns around to see you, squealing at his cuteness.

“Oh my god! Chopper! You look so cute!” you exclaim, grabbing the attention of your crewmates.

“Huh? Wait what?” he says, looking down at the scarf hanging around his neck. His eyes widen as he realizes what's happened. “Wait what?” he repeats again.

“I found this scarf and I thought of you! It fits you so well!” you say, and Robin and Usopp hum in agreement.

“It does fit you really well, Chopper” Usopp says, examining the deer up close.

“It’s really cute” Robin says with a soft smile on her face.

“I- I’m not cute! Stop! I’m a man, I’m not cute!” Chopper exclaims, an embarrassed look on his face. Despite his words, he’s making no attempt to take off the scarf. You all know he secretly loves to be babied by all of you.

Robin

Have you ever heard of the knitted sweater curse? It’s an old myth that if you knit a sweater for your partner, then you’ll break up! You knew though that that would never happen with Robin. All those people who broke up over a sweater were because they didn’t understand the amount of work that goes into one. Robin, however, is very well aware of the time and effort it takes to knit!

One chilly afternoon you approach her, sweater folded up in your arms and you give her a shy smile. Her face lights up as she sees you, making you feel giddy inside.

“I uh… I made you this sweater, I hope it fits” you say and hand it to her. She touches the wooly material, a smile big on her face.

“Thank you so much, dear. How long did this take you? It’s absolutely wonderful… It feels so soft, I bet it’s going to be so warm and cozy” she says, blush on her face. You know she’s not used to receiving gifts randomly so you can tell that she’s a little bit flustered.

“It took me a few weeks to be honest, but I’m happy you like it!” you beam a smile at her.

It didn’t matter how long it took you to make something, or how frustrating it was, it was always worth it at the end when you see the love in her eyes.

Franky

Franky is one of those people that’s kinda hard to give gifts to. You know that regardless of what you end up giving him, he’ll appreciate it, but you still want to give him something personal. After a lot of thinking, you decide to make him something super simple: a flower crown. After all, a cyborg wearing a flower crown would be cute, right?

“Hey Franky!” you say as you approach him. He turns around to look at you, and you motion at him to bend down to your height. As you lean towards him you put the flower crown on top of his head before giving him a quick kiss on the forehead.

“Oh? What’s all this?” he asks with a smirk on his face as he stands back up. He goes to touch the flower crown before you stop him.

“Wait what is this?” he laughs.

“No, No! Don’t take it off! Let me take a picture first!” you giggle. You take out your phone, snapping a picture of him and showing it to him. His smile widens and he laughs at the picture.

“It’s a flower crown! Isn’t it cute? I made it myself!” you exclaim and his eyes fill up with adoration.

“Thank you so much dear, I love it. It suits the cyborg aesthetic superrr well”.

Brook

Giving Brook a gift was always a gamble: you never knew if he was going to take it seriously or turn it into a dad joke. After you had found a cool-looking guitar plectrum in a second-hand store though you felt like you had to give it to him, it SCREAMED his vibes.

“Ah, Brook, I found this earlier and I figured you might like it” you say as you hand the skeleton the plectrum. He takes the plectrum and inspects it.

“Ooohh, Y/N, do you know what this is?” he asks and you shake your head.

“This… The symbol on this plectrum… It’s a symbol for a band that I liked when I was younger…” he starts. It’s hard to read his emotions, with the whole having no face and all, but you can tell he’s surprised to see it.

“Oh? What was their music like?” you ask him. Brook thinks for a minute.

“Ahh, it’s been so long since I heard it but… If you want I could try playing one of their songs?” he asks. You nod your head in response and call Luffy and Usopp over, knowing that they’ll love it too.

“Well… It goes kind of like this…” he brings his guitar out and starts playing, the music floating through the air. It’s a sort of soft sound, yet with a lot of emotions behind it. Luffy and Usopp are both moving their heads to the beat as if they’re in a concert crowd and you close your eyes to focus on the sound. It’s so beautiful.

The skeleton stops playing his guitar and takes a moment before he speaks.

“Y/N… Thank you so much for bringing back these memories. It really means a whole lot”. You look up at him with a soft smile.

“I feel like I could cry right now… Oh. But I don’t have any tear ducts!”.

And there goes the dad jokes.

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ghostxrose · 12 days

Note

Thanks for answering my request so fast! Nobody's answered me so fast, even if you didn't write anything. It's fine, though!! Maybe I'll change my request? How about, an angst (of course) where female reader and Bakugou are married and have kids (doesn't matter how much or how old) but it turns out, Bakugou has been cheating (angst ending pls, unless you don't want) on Yn for a while now?

Ive been looking for something like this recently but never found it!

Thanks! 😘😘

Thank you so much for the ask, Lovely! I'm sorry that it took so long for me to answer, but I hope that I excuted the idea well. If I'm being honest, I had some trouble with this idea. Cheating isn't something I write about, but I hope that you get your fill of angst, haha.. Anyway, much love and appreciation, Lovely!

Earth Shattering | Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

You gaze out of the window of your parent’s dining room, gently rocking the half asleep one-year-old in your arms. It’s warm and sunny outside, but even the sun’s rays can’t melt away the cold feeling at the back of your mind of something being off. Life has been going well, you have everything you could ever want, but still that voice of intuition won’t quit its whispering.

“He hasn’t been with you three when you’ve come by for these lunches in ages. Your father and I just miss seeing our son-in-law, that’s all, hunny.” Your mother says with a touch of concern in her tone.

“He’s the country’s Number Two Hero, Mom. He has a busy schedule and he’s exhausted during his days off.” You say, giving her the same tired excuse that you’ve been giving her for nearly a year now.

Your gaze shifts to the bubbly three-year-old giggling and babbling nonsense to your father. A small smile pulls at your lips and something in your chest warms while simultaneously aching.

Truthfully, Katsuki has barely had time for the three of you. Your poor husband is always either out on the streets fighting demented villains or ends up staying late at his office drowning in paperwork. It’s put a bit of a strain of your relationship, but you know that he can’t do much about his work schedule, so you tough it out.

As much as you would have liked for him to come with you to your parent’s house today, you had seen just how exhausted he was. So you told him to spend his day off resting while you and the kids were out of the house for the day. He had asked multiple times if you would be fine handling them, if you were sure about him staying home. He knows that being a stay at home mom can be draining at the very least and you appreciate him wanting to help out. But you had reassured him over and over that you would be fine and told him to just relax as much as he could.

You can admit to yourself that you have been feeling frazzled these days.. It’s no easy task for one person to take care of a rambunctious three-year-old along with a fussy one-year-old. But you do it every day with a smile, even if some days that smile is a bit forced or strained.

“I know, hun,” your mother says softly, walking up to you with a warm smile on her face. She looks down and coos quietly at the sleeping baby in your arms. A more easy smile graces your face and you follow your mother to the couch to sit down.

You talk with your parents for a few more hours. It’s all general conversation and talks about taking the kids out to fun places. You feel slightly more sane on days like this, days where there’s other adults to talk with. Even chatting about mundane things like the weather feels good compared to the constant drone of kids cartoons and baby cries.

You love your kids, of course you do. They’re both the perfect mix of you and Katsuki in looks and personalities. Starting a family had been something you and Katsuki had talked about for a long time after you started dating. When your first child had been born the joy and light in your husband’s eyes was unmatched to any other feeling.

Admittedly, your second child had been an accident.. The result of the night Katsuki had been named Number Two. A night which you hardly remember except that you both had too much champagne and you forgot to take your birth control. But your second child entered the world with a warm and loving welcome from you and Katsuki.

You look over at the clock on the wall and let out a quiet sigh, “Looks like we should head out. It’s getting close to dinner time and I think Kats said he was going to make curry.”

“Alright, sweetie. We’ll help you load up the munchkins,” your father says as he stands up, your tired and fussy three-year-old sleepily clinging to him.

You buckle your one-year-old into their carrier, then grab the diaper bag. Your mother walks out of the kitchen with a container of spiced cookies, one of Katsuki’s favorites, and flashes you a smile. You give her an appreciative smile, then you all file out of the door to your car.

It’s a challenge for your father trying to buckle up your worn-out and inconsolable three-year-old, but the task gets completed. Once your kids are buckled in and everything has been secured in place you turn the car on, then make your way back to your parents. You hug them both, thank them for a nice day, and tell them you’ll try to get Katsuki to come with next time. By the time you slide into the driver’s seat of your car, your once inconsolable three-year-old is passed out and your one-year-old peacefully stares out the window.

The drive home is filled with you quietly humming along with the radio and trying to ignore the sudden and heavy feeling developing in the pit of your stomach. Your mind can’t provide a reason behind the feeling, so you just brush it off. You move with the flow of traffic until you eventually slow to pull into your driveway.

The security gate is already open and the feeling that’s been sitting like a rock in your stomach churns. Pulling up to the house the sight of an unfamiliar car parked in front of your garage is unavoidable. Your body begins to tremble as a million scenarios race through your mind, the top one being that somebody has broken into your home. You put your car in park, leaving it running but turning off the radio. A quick glance in your rear view mirror tells you that both of your children are sleeping.

Panic surges through you as you try to think about what to do. You pull your phone out of your purse and dial Katsuki’s number. It rings for what feels like forever until you get Katsuki’s voicemail. You try calling him a couple more times, but you keep getting his voicemail. Trying to school your breathing so that you don’t wake your children, you call Izuku and luckily he picks up on the first ring.

“Hey, Y/N! What’s up?” Izuku asks with his usual cheerfulness.

“Hey, Izuku. I’m, uhm, I’m kind of freaking out right now,” you say quietly, your eyes darting between your house and the view of your children in the rear view mirror.

“What’s going on?” Izuku’s tone quickly becomes serious and concerned.

“I-I just got home with the kids and the gate was open and there’s a car here that I’ve never seen before.. Katsuki isn’t answering his phone and I don’t know if he’s okay a-and I don’t know what-” Your words rush out of you and despite your best efforts your breathing picks up and tears sting at your eyes.

“I’m on my way right now, just stay in your car, okay? Do you have the doors locked?” There’s the sound of a door closing in the background as Izuku talks to you and a bit of relief fills you.

“Y-yeah.. What if.. what if Katsuki’s hurt, Izuku? What if a villain found out where we live o-or this is a robbery and they have weapons? I-I don’t.. I-I c-can’t..” You bring a hand up to muffle the cry that’s crawled up your throat and your watery eyes look into the mirror again.

“I’m almost there, Y/N. It’s all going to be okay. I’ll find out what’s going on and everything will be just fine.” Izuku tries his best to reassure you, but your stomach still churns with a now sickening feeling and all you can respond with is a weak “okay.”

It doesn’t take long for Iuzku’s car to tear into the driveway, your friend parking haphazardly a few feet away from you. He quickly gets out of his car and flashes you his signature smile before rushing to your front door. You watch him disappear inside and your emotions build up until you feel like you’re going to explode.

Suddenly, the front door is thrown open and a shaken-looking woman rushes out. Her hair is messy, her clothes look like hastily thrown on, and she looks a bit scared. She closes the door behind her and starts to head toward the car parked in front of your garage. Her eyes flit around until they land on your car, and your shocked gaze meets hers. The woman’s eyes widen and she practically runs to her car, quickly getting inside then peeling out of your driveway.

Your shocked mind suddenly goes blank and a numb-feeling spreads through your entire being. With one last look back at your sleeping babies, you get out of your car. You close the door of the running vehicle as slowly and quietly as you can. Mom-guilt about leaving your children in the car eats at the back of your mind as you make your way to the front door.

As soon as you open it you hear shouting coming from down the hall where your bedroom is at. You feel nauseous now and stomach acid burns at the back of your throat as you step further into the house.

“Don’t fucking tell her, Izuku! Sh-she doesn’t need to know! Th-the other women were just stress relief, I still love Y/N!” You hear Katsuki shout at Izuku and it takes conscious effort not to puke your shattered heart out.

You’re sure you’re wearing the same look of horrified shock as Katsuki when you get to the doorway of you and your husband’s bedroom. His is riddled with guilt, though, as your tear-filled eyes meet his. Izuku is at your side in an instant, letting you lean against him as your knees threaten to give out. The silence filling the room is tense, heavy, and suffocating as you take in your husband’s appearance. He’s nearly naked except for a pair of boxers, his hair is messier than usual, and he looks sweaty.

Your swallow dryly and straighten up, “Izuku, can the kids stay with you and Ochako for the night?” Your voice comes out surprisingly even given the situation.

“Y-yeah.. Y/N-” Izuku stutters in his reply, but you cut him off before he can speak further.

“Everything they should need is in the diaper bag in the back of my car. Call if there’s any problems or you guys need anything. Thank you.” You say a bit firmly as you fight to keep your composure.

Katsuki just stands there silently gaping and looking at you with an almost unreadable mix of emotions. You can’t help the trembling of your lip or the tears that continue to spill from your eyes as you stare right back at him. A horrible pain shoots through your chest and it really feels like you can feel your heart breaking. Izuku squeezes your shoulder before silently leaving and you wait until you hear the front door close before letting your composure crumble.

Gut-wrenching sobs are ripped from your chest and your legs finally give up on keeping you standing. You wail into your hands as painful heartbreak and rage consume you.

Katsuki arms are suddenly wrapping around you, “Y/N, baby, I-I’m so sorry! I-”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You scream as you shove him off of you and crawl backwards away from him. “Take a fucking shower, then meet me out in the living room. I’m not talking to you in the same room you fucked other people! Unless you fucked them on the couch too?! You know what, I’ll be in the damn kitchen! It’s probably safe since you’ve refused to even fuck me in there!”

You’re quick to get up and leave the bedroom, slamming the door behind you before Katsuki could even get another word in. You sob as you make your way to the kitchen, the sight of half-eaten take out boxes sitting on the counter pushing you further over the edge. You barely make it to the trash before the contents of your stomach make their reappearance.

After cleaning yourself up and rinsing your mouth out with some water, you sit at the table and wait in the deathly silence. Too many thoughts run through your mind as you try to figure out if this is reality or not. Your mind supplies you with the reminder of how you noticed Katsuki’s behavior change not long after he had hit Number Two. How he seemed to have more late nights at the office during your second pregnancy, and even after the birth of your baby. How his days off were either spent here at the house by himself or the two of you doing your own things around the house.

The worst thought your mind supplied you is how rarely you were intimate with Katsuki anymore. You had just brushed it off as his sex-drive lowering because of the busy life you both lived. You never would have thought that he was getting his pleasure from other women while you were blissfully unaware and having to pleasure yourself..

You flinch at the sound of the bedroom door closing and your chest aches with every footstep approaching. The sound of the chair across from you being pulled away from the table makes you cringe as the feet of it scrape along the floor. You can feel Katsuki’s gaze on you, see his arms resting against the table top from your peripheral vision. You stare down at the spot on the table in front of you for another moment until you gather the courage to look him in the eyes.

“How long?” You ask quietly, your voice shaking.

Katsuki bits his bottom lip and his eyes shift down to his hands, “Please, Y/N.. I-I fucked up, I was a damn idiot, but please we can work-”

“How long, Katsuki? How long have you been screwing other women while I take care of our children? While I clean our house! While I do your laundry! How long have you been fucking other women in our bed while I’ve been playing loyal wife?!” You ask with such a bitterness and rage that Katsuki flinches.

“..it started a couple months after we found you were pregnant again.. " Katsuki admits quietly, his fists clenched and guilt written all over his face.

You choke on a muffled sob and your mind surges back to to the first message you had gotten from him telling you that he was staying late at work. Every single other message flashes through your mind until you’re reminded that he eventually just stopped sending them and left you to assume.

“..Wh-why? Di-did I do something? Wh-when did I become not enough for you?” You ask brokenly as you wonder how your heart is still beating even though it feels like it should be failing.

“Baby.. Y/N, y-you didn’t do anything.. not on purpose. Y-Your body was so sensitive when you were pregnant, it seemed like every little touch caused you pain.. A-and your mood swings were so constantly changing and I didn’t want to take my frustration out on you because you were carrying my fuckin’ child, so I just bottled it up..” Katsuki tries to explain, but his excuses are poor at best and rage burns in your veins.

“So instead of talking to me about it, instead of having a conversation with your wife, you chose to cheat?” You ask incredulous and hurt.

Katsuki clenches his jaw, his tell-tell signs of anger appearing on his features, “It felt like my wife didn’t want me around, let alone touch me! So, yes, I took advantage of the fact that women willingly throw themselves at me and I got my rocks off that way!”

You flinch as if his words are physical blows and another sob tears from your chest, “You tore apart our lives just to get your dick wet? I am so sorry that my difficult pregnancy pushed you to such an option. I am so sorry that I was so sore that even wearing clothes hurt. I am so sorry that I was so full of hormones that the mood swings that made me feel like shit, made you feel so unwanted. I am so sorry, Katsuki, that carrying, birthing, then caring for both of your children forced you to go put your dick in other pussies!”

Katsuki lets out a frustrated growl, his own anger firing up, “Christ, Y/N, I’m sorry! I’ll be sorry for the rest of my fucking life! I’m sorry that I wasn’t better, but I can be better! I won’t touch another woman again, I promise you! We can work through this, I still love you, damn it!”

A dry, humorless laugh bubbles out of your mouth and you can’t breathe for a moment. Katsuki pants across from you, caught up in his emotion, and stares at you bewildered.

“You’ve made promises, Katsuki,” you spit once you’ve caught your breath. “You stood across from me at that damn alter five years ago, said the same vows that I did. We made the same promises for each other, but the difference now is that I upheld mine! We can’t work through this, I don’t trust you anymore! You’ve single-handedly burned us to the ground-”

“Don’t it, baby, please! Don’t say what I think you’re gonna say,” Katsuki begs as he half stands from his chair to try to reach across the table for you.

You push away from the table, standing fully from your chair and looking at Katsuki with anger and hurt, “We’re done, Katsuki, I want a divorce. In the mean time, the kids and I will be staying at my parent’s house. Don’t bother wasting your efforts trying to fix the shit you’ve broken. We are done.”

You leave Katsuki half hunched over the table stunned with tears in his eyes. You rush to the bedroom and hastily throw articles of clothing into a suit case. You grab a couple pairs of shoes, then quickly leave the bedroom nearly running into your husb- Katsuki. You shove past him as he starts spilling apologies and pleas for you to stay. Every weak grasp on your arm or wrist is met with you wrenching yourself away from him.

Ripping open the front door you rush to your car, throwing your little bit of belongings into the back seat. You climb into the driver’s seat and turn the car on, taking the picture of you and Katsuki off of your sun visor and throwing out of the window. As you back your car up to turn it around, you catch sight of Katsuki one more time. He’s standing on the front porch with guilt, shame, and sadness on his face. Tears cascade down from the eyes that you used to find so beautiful and you have to will yourself not to put the car in park and go running back into his arms.

Your tires screech as you pull out of the driveway, but it doesn’t cover up the sound of you screaming your heart break at your windshield. Tears pour down your face and hinder your vision as you try to maneuver through traffic. You’re desperate to see your babies, to hug them and tell them that you love them and that you’re sorry for what their future is going to become. You’re also desperate for someone’s comfort, whether it be your parents or Izuku and Ochako. You need a shoulder to cry on, a pillow to scream into, and maybe a stiff drink or two.

As you scream, sob, beat your steering wheel, and drive a bit haphazardly, too many thoughts flood your mind. Why would he do this to you? How could he do this to you? Why weren’t you enough? What more could you have done? Is this all actually happening? Is this really your reality?

“This is my reality..” You say aloud hoarsely as you sit in your car looking at Izuku and Ochako’s front door. Your body is simultaneously numb and aching all over. Your mind has finally gone blank, but it’s in the worst way possible. Tears still roll down your face and you sniffle every now and then as you continue dazedly staring.

How is it that your entire world can shatter within the span of a day?

Sorry if it wasn't angsty enough! But I hope that you stick around for future angst! I really cannot thank you enough for the ask/request, it means a lot to me that you'd want to reach out to me at all! My hope is to start interacting with my readers more, so I hope that others see this and want to follow your lead!

Hope you enjoyed the read and keep being amazing, Lovely! <3

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