#would u believe today was the first time i got to see this in its entirety

[too-deviant]

jackie and wilson.

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summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4.1k

content: broody!luke, teenage dirtbag!luke but also not really, sprinkles of mean!luke, r is unbothered and does not gaf about his lil emo boy act, this is four thousand words of r being a pain in luke’s ass, probs will make a part 2 bc i love them your honour 

notes:  speaking my truth: i am a british gal. any banter in this about the new england states is entirely stuff i got from reddit so plz don’t scrutinise my american states knowledge

the layout of this fic is very much inspired by @murdrdocs if that wasn’t obvious but also icarus if u want me to change it i will jus say the word :00

PART I — she blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild 

All things considered, you took the news of your heritage pretty well. 

Sure, there was a lot of yelling — mostly through the wall after you locked yourself in your room and started packing a bag — but at least you didn’t sit on it in denial for several hours. 

Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming. 

The first time you realised you could see things nobody else could, you tried to admit yourself into a ward. Your mom went a little panicky, and she never did perform well under pressure, so she caved and said you were special. Too special for the other kids at your school, too special for anyone to know about it. 

After that, she got more tense. Eyes darting around whenever you guys went out in public, hand lingering for a second longer on your back before she sent you to school — as if she felt like she’d never see you again. She would stay up at night and read you old Greek tales before you went to sleep, and acted way too serious about it. More serious than when she would read you Dr Seuss. 

Honestly, it was a miracle you went unknowing for so long. Maybe you were insignificant, or maybe the Stymphalian Pigeon that tried to kill you after school was just slow — because you were seventeen when you got attacked by your first monster. 

You took it out pretty easily — and by that, I mean you outran it through the bustling streets of your hometown until it flew messily into a bus and you dodged your way to your apartment in a flurry. Your mom’s resolve cracked like a thin layer of ice and you were packed and ready to go to this camp she spoke of before the clock had hit four-thirty. 

Most of the yelling that you guys did was along the lines of — “I can’t believe you waited this long to tell me!” — and — “I didn’t want you to leave!” — “I get that, but seriously mom, I almost got eaten by a bird today. A little context going in would’ve been nice!”

You threw yourself into a taxi — much to the disdain of your mother, who insisted on at least getting you to the hill. You then reminded her that she would have to pay the fare all the way back to their apartment and it honestly wouldn’t be worth it and that you’d call her when you got the chance. She let you go with a huff, folding her arms across her chest and creasing the silky material of her pink blouse. 

The next hour was about as awkward as taxi rides go, even more so when you got out in the middle of nowhere. You weren’t even sure you were at the bottom of the right hill but sent the poor guy on his way anyway and prayed to whoever your divine parent was that you weren’t about to get gunned down by an angry farmer for mistaking his land for a summer camp. 

Thankfully, the empty fields shimmered into something worth travelling for when you took a tentative step across its threshold. The sun seemed to get brighter and the breeze became softer. It was nice from where you stood, and it probably would’ve gotten nicer the closer you got. 

Had you not tripped over a rock and tumbled down the hill ungracefully, landing in a heap at the bottom, a few feet away from a dirt path that split off in two directions. You sat up with a huff, blowing your hair out of your eyes and squinting at your surroundings now that they were much closer. You didn’t bother to heave yourself up, catching your breath and letting your gaze flitter over the scenery. 

It was cute. 

Then the distinct sound of horse hooves clipping against the ground evaded your ears, and you looked up to greet the centaur who now stood above you. You thanked the gods for your moms intricately detailed bedtime stories as you pulled yourself up onto your feet and allowed yourself to be introduced to Chiron and Mr. D, who then led you to the four story house that overlooked the valley. 

Your induction was swift and sweet — since you pretty much knew and had accepted everything already. There were a couple of glances and muttered comments about how you had gone so long without being targeted, but Chiron had said he wanted you to get the tour before dinner so you could settle straight to bed after the campfire, and caught some young kid by the t-shirt as he ran past, asking him politely if he could send Luke over. 

The awkward two minutes it took for your tour guide to reach you stretched on for a painful amount of time, but you would relive it a hundred times over if it meant you didn’t have to experience the agony you called your first meeting with Luke Castellan. 

He was tall, with a dark mop of curls that hung over his furrowed brows. His skin was tanned from all the time he spent in the sun, and his shoulders were broad enough to intimidate, but not broad enough that you were intimidated. He was your age, seemingly, and the cuffs of his green cargo pants brushed against his ankles only an inch higher than they would sit on an average person.

His most memorable feature, however, had to be the deep scar that stretched from the top of his left brow all the way to his cheekbone — it was jagged and sharp, cutting across his eye roughly, as if he had been clawed. He probably had. It was raised and shone pink under the sun, so you could tell it was fairly new, but it had healed over enough to indicate that Luke was probably tired of hearing people ask about it. So you didn’t. You barely gave it a glance before you raised your brows at him with a cheeky grin and gave him your name. 

He nodded minutely, one of the only movements he made after he’d parked himself in front of you other than the sliding of his eyes from one person to another as they spoke to him. After Chiron and Mr D had given him the rundown, he gave a slight nod of his head in one direction before walking away and expecting you to follow. 

You caught up to him, sidling up on his left with a huff and a smile, “I’m getting the feeling that you're sorta sick of this giving this tour all the time.” 

He didn’t respond. He just looked at you, and then stopped walking, watching as you froze two steps ahead of him before shuffling back to his side sheepishly. Then he lifted an unbothered hand to the right, “Those are the strawberry fields.” He then gestured ahead, “That’s the beach.” And then to the left, “Those are the training fields.”

Then he started walking again, and you hesitated for only a second before following, “Wow. Don’t give me too much information all at once.” 

Your sarcastic comment was ignored, and Luke nodded towards the bank of cabins you were nearing, “These are the cabins. Twelve. One for each Olympian. You’ll stay in the Hermes cabin until you’re claimed.”

“Right.” You nodded, “God of Travellers. Makes sense.” 

He let out a breath, not pausing in his stride as he passed through the curve of houses, not sparing a glance to any of them. You took notice of how the other kids looked at him in apprehension, with a hint of fear when he got too close. He cut down an alley between two cabins — one with a dangerous amount of barbed wire across the top and another that glowed gold under the sunlight — before the pair emerged through the trees at a pavilion. 

“This is where we eat.” He said. “Dinner is soon.” 

“Cool.” You nodded, “What are the options? Because if food here is lacking, then I will be packing.” 

You let out a useless chuckle at your own joke, but it landed flat. “Yeah, that wasn’t funny.” You muttered lowly. With a click of your tongue, you glanced over the horizon and pointed at something from afar. A tall structure that stuck out the tops of the trees, “What’s that?”

“The climbing wall.” Luke answered plainly. 

“And that?” 

“The Amphitheatre.”

You looked up at him, pulling a face he didn’t bother to glance at. Then you noticed a bunch of campers filing through the trees and into the pavilion the two of you stood at the edge of. They entered in groups and made their way to their designated tables, chattering and gossiping as they did. 

You looked at Luke, “Well, that was…great. Truly, a riveting experience. I will say, though — your delivery needs some work. The dark and gloomy act works most of the time, but not when you’re giving a guided tour.”

That got him to look at you, and you held back your triumphant smirk. He frowned, “What?”

You shrugged, “I’m just saying, nobody is going to listen to you talk about this place if you describe it like this.” You lowered your tone into a subpar impression of his voice, and you swore you saw his brows twitch. Clearing your throat, you waved a hand, “No need to worry about that now, though. Just point me in the direction of the Hermes table and I’ll be out of your strangely well-conditioned hair.”

Another eyebrow twitch. You were getting the hang of this. Maybe one day you could get him to move other parts of his face! 

You half expected the boy to ignore you and walk off — and he did. But it was in the direction of the Hermes table, so you counted it as him showing you the way. Most of the campers were seated by the time you’d arrived, and you were thus forced to sit yourself on the end of the bench, uncomfortably beside him. He was unbothered. 

During dinner you were swiftly introduced to some of your peers — Chris Rodriguez gave you a lopsided grin and informed you politely that you would need to sacrifice some of your food before you got stuck into it. Travis and Connor Stoll sidled up on either side of you as you grumbled at the hearth, and yapped your ear off about the fundamentals of camp. 

(So all the sneaky stuff Chiron doesn’t know about. Like how you can skip out on archery training if Lee is the one running it because he never has it in him to snitch. Or that the pegasi stables were the go-to hook up spot for summer campers, but the back of the Amphitheater was the go-to hook up spot for the year-rounders. When you asked what the difference was, they winked, and when you asked what happened if a year-rounder hooked up with a summer camper, they chuckled and walked off.)

Chiron gave you an introduction that made you feel like a new kid being asked to tell the class one fun fact about yourself, and around six kids at your table asked if it hurt when you fell down the hill. 

Overall, a good first night. As far as first nights at a summer camp for half-gods goes. By the time all the campers had gone back to their respective cabins, you were ready to turn in and clock out for the day. 

But you wanted to try one more time. Last attempt, and then you’d let it go. 

When Luke — who you had discovered earlier was the counsellor of the Hermes cabin, and apparently a role model for the kids — came over and silently handed you a folded orange shirt with a leather cord sitting on top of it, you smirked. 

“Hey, now we can match. How cute.” 

He blinked at you, “Everyone is wearing the same thing.”

“The same shirts, you mean.” You tilted your head, “But we’re both wearing green cargos. And white socks. White sneakers.” Your grin widened as you watched his eyes flit down your form, taking in the outfit you had on. You were right — the only difference between you two was the white tank top you had on, soon to be replaced by the shirt he had just handed to you. You thought for a moment that it would work, that he would make a face, or say more than two sentences to you in response. 

But he didn’t. He just huffed and walked away, and you watched with an appalled expression. You narrowed your eyes. 

Okay, so maybe you weren’t ready to let it go yet. 

The next morning, you were rudely awakened by a small child who was sprawled across your torso, having shifted from his own sleeping bag that was beside yours. He couldn’t have been any older than six, his orange camp shirt sitting like a dress on him, and if he wasn’t snoring into your chest, you would’ve thought he was adorable. 

But you really needed to pee. 

After you slowly but surely lifted him back onto his own pillow, you stood up with a stretch and stepped precariously over the other kids, balancing carefully on the tips of your toes so you didn’t step on any of them. The sun was barely rising, and you were the only one awake, so you held your breath and reached out for the handle of the bathroom door. 

“That’s not your bathroom.”

You flinched, losing your balance and toppling back. A hand between your shoulder blades prevented you from crushing any of the kids on the floor, and you steadied yourself before meeting the eyes of the person who spoke. 

Luke was staring intently at you, his eyes blinking hard as if he’d only just woken up. He was in nothing but a pair of blue sweat-shorts and you fought the urge to rake your eyes over his bare torso, watching as he lowered his hand back to his side, “That’s the counsellor's bathroom.”

“Right.” Came a low mutter, under your breath. Then louder, you asked, “Well, where is the campers bathroom?”

“Outside.” He answered, “Around the back of the cabins.”

“Out—“ You started, and then realised everyone else was asleep and swiftly lowered your volume, but kept your expression exaggerated. Wide eyes, furrowed brows. “Outside?”

“Yes.”

“But…it’s cold out there.”

“We have a controlled climate.” He said, folding his arms across his chest. His biceps tensed, “It’s never cold.”

You let out a sigh, throwing your thumb over your shoulder and pointing at the door, “Can’t I just use this one? You aren’t using it, and everyone else is asleep, they’d never know!” 

He stared at you blankly and stayed silent for a long time. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just never said anything until you walked away, which you were well prepared to do, letting out a deep breath and folding your own arms over to preserve heat as you clambered towards the front door, muttering complaints under your breath the whole time. You made it three feet (or two sleeping bags) away from him when he finally piped up. 

“Be quick.” 

Turning around, Luke was already making his way back to his own bed, and you ogled shamelessly at his back muscles as you shuffled to his bathroom and made your way inside. You did your business quickly as requested and washed your hands under the low pressure of the sink before cracking the door open once more. The cabin was the same, everyone else still sleeping calmly. Luke was standing by his bunk, now clad in black shorts and his camp shirt. He paid you no mind when you padded back to your sleeping bag, grabbing your bag and stifling through the clothes you had packed. 

You walked up to breakfast with the unclaimed girl you had met the previous night — Lana — and listened and she told you intently about the lore of Luke Castellan. 

“He never used to be the way he is. He was happier before, always grinning. More than ready to help anyone here. He was…well, everyone either wanted to be with him or be him.”

“And then what happened?”

“He went on a quest. It went wrong. He came back with that ugly scar and he hasn’t been the same since.”

You made a comment that the scar wasn’t ugly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d add on that it made him look pretty hot. But you did know better, and you knew that Luke was three people ahead of you in the line and could probably hear what you were saying. So you kept that tidbit to yourself and ate your cereal in silence. 

When breakfast was over, you stood from the bench and turned, only to stop short when you realised Luke was standing behind you. Looking up at him, you raised a brow, “Yes?”

“I’m showing you around today.”

“You showed me around yesterday.”

His lips tightened, “We’re actually doing stuff today. Seeing what you’re good at.”

“Oh.” You ran your tongue over your teeth and nodded, “Well, where do we start?”

“Archery.” 

Turns out, you were pretty awful at archery. Even after you’d stopped firing arrows into the treeline, you still never hit the middle of the target. Lee had to correct your posture four times, and you broke six arrows. Eventually, you decided that Apollo was not your father, and shuffled over to where Luke stood beneath the shade of a tree — where he had been standing the whole hour. 

“Y’know, just because you’ve got this broody bad boy thing going on, doesn’t mean you have to linger in the shadows all the time.” You commented, picking at your fingernails and readjusting the long sleeve you wore under your camp shirt, “You just look weird.” 

Luke pointed at your cheekbone, “You’re bleeding.” 

You huffed, “I know.” You kept holding your bow too close to the side of your face and the feathers of the arrows kept scratching you whenever you let them fly. Lee mentioned how most people make that mistake the first time round, but you’d done it so much that he’d cut your lesson short and told you to get a bandaid from one of his siblings. You didn’t. 

He stared at your cut for a moment, like he was thinking hard about something. But he didn’t, and pushed himself off the tree he was leaning against and brushed past you, “Let’s go to the forges.”

You were better at blacksmithing than you were at archery, but the sword Charles Beckendorf was helping you weld still came out wonky and discoloured. He was a nice kid, funny, and your lowered spirits from your previous task had been quickly uplifted despite you not having much skill in his department. He let you keep the sword anyway, and you swung it jokingly at Luke as he led you to the Amphitheater. 

You made swooshing noises as you did so, chuckling when he didn’t so much as flinch, “Don’t act so tough, Castellan, I could take you out even with a dodgy sword.”

“You couldn’t.” He muttered, “I’m the best sword fighter here.”

You let out an over dramatic gasp, running ahead and swivelling around so you could meet his eyes, “Holy shit, was that…did you just…tell me something about yourself?” You grinned and his frown deepened, “Aw, Luke. We’re getting somewhere! This is amazing, I’m so proud. Soon enough we’ll be best frien — “

Before you could finish your incessant teasing, Luke grabbed your forearm and yanked you in front of him just as a kid on an out-of-control Pegasus toppled past you. You watched him disappear in mild shock, before looking back at the boy in front of you, “Hey, thanks. Almost got trampled. How embarrassing.”

He narrowed his gaze, “Do you not take anything seriously?”

You shrugged, “Not really. I’d ask you the same question, but…” You made a face. It was obvious that he was very serious, even if he never used to be. 

“Let’s go.” Was his boring response, moving swiftly past you and into the Amphitheatre so quickly you would’ve assumed he was trying to get away from you. (Which he definitely was).

You weren’t really all that bothered, not when you were having so much fun pissing him off. 

It took all of ten minutes for Luke to put your sword fighting lesson to an end. Not only had you insisted on fighting with the wonky sword rather than a working training one, you also kept pushing him with your hands whenever he got too close. 

“That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”

“Hey, it’s working, isn’t it?” 

You were pretty shit at it anyway, so you didn’t fight him when he said you were cutting your lesson short. You simply tucked your weapon onto the sheath he’d handed you and followed him down the hill to the dining pavilion. 

“So, where are you from?”

He didn’t answer you for a couple of minutes, something you’d been well prepared for. But you couldn’t help but ask — he intrigued you. A little too much, maybe. 

You continued, “Because you seem like a Mass guy.”

Luke stopped in his tracks, turning to you, “Mass…achusetts?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, fighting off your amused smile when he pulled a face. Finally, an expression!

Truth was, Lana had told you he was from Connecticut. You just wanted to see how he’d react, if he would react at all — apparently he isn’t immune to everything. 

“I’m from CT.” He made it very clear, and you tried your hardest not to laugh. “Okay? I'm not some Boston Masshole, got it?”

You raised your hands in surrender, “Got it.” 

He stared at you for a second longer, as if to ensure you really did have it. Squinting at your amused smile before nodding and continuing his walk. You thought it would go back to silence, but apparently you’d lit a fuse. 

“I mean, what makes you think I'm from MA?” He asked, his tone of voice so appalled you’d think he’d been accused of some sort of crime. “Do I smell like shit?”

A chuckle, “What?”

But he just whirled on you once more, lifting his arm and gesturing to his pit, “Do I? Do I stink of shit?” 

You didn’t feel like sniffing him, so you just shook your head, still laughing, “No.” 

“Then what — ?” He stopped, narrowed his eyes, “Where are you from?”

You tried to hide your smile, but it was getting really difficult. The last two days he’d been nothing but broody and miserable, one word quips being his only form of communication other than dark frowns. But one mention of Mass and he’s suddenly down to chit chat? You couldn’t help but laugh — unfortunately, it only spurred him on. 

“You think this is funny?” He scoffed, nodding, “Yeah, bet you’re from Maine too.”

Your laughter continued, little giggles spilling out of you whenever you thought about the situation too hard. You shrugged, “I don’t think I wanna tell you after this.”

Luke nodded like he was expecting you to say that, “Something a Mainer would say, I’m sure.”

You grinned wide, very proud of yourself for getting a visceral reaction out of the boy — even if you had to piss him off to do it. Just as you went to reply with a witty comeback that would have him ranting and raving for the rest of the night, the dinner conch sounded, interrupting what you’re sure would’ve been a very entertaining conversation. 

You walked on past him, not stopping, but slowing down so you could cough into your fist, “Flatlander.”

You didn’t look back but you did hear him scoff in shock, and you were sure he stood there frozen for at least twenty seconds because he entered the pavilion way later than you did. He made a point to fix you with an annoyed stare as he sat down a few people away from you — and Chris raised a brow. 

“What’d you do to him?”

You shrugged, digging into your mashed potatoes before anyone could tell you to wait until you’d made your offering, “Told him he looked like a Bay Stater.”

He chuckled, wincing under his breath and shaking his head, “You’re evil. I like it.”

You smirked and said nothing — but whenever your eyes flickered over to Luke, his were just flickering away from you.

#@lia’s works #joined a new england subreddit for this fic #so pls give it some love #taking requests #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo

[secretjeon]

Could you write something for SebastianxF!reader? Maybe later in their 7th year with Sebastian being jealous of all the boys interested in you. Him figuring out his feelings for you and maybe some kissing at the end 😳

ONLY YOU; SEBASTIAN SALLOW

pairing: sebastian sallow x f!reader

warnings: teeny tiny bit of angst if you squint, some arguing, jealousy, very quick slight suggestiveness, reader is seriously so desired by everyone its not even funny, fluff!!! not proofread!

word count: 1k+

a/n: first time writing for sebastian but it was so much fun im so excited!! for anyone who might want to request I write fluff, angst and smut so there's not really any limits. i don’t know how to write dialogue as a british person in the 1800s, so take it easy on me, but i hope u like it!! 🤍

comments/reblogs/likes are appreciateddd

He didn't know why he was so upset at the sight before him. You were currently sitting in your Defence Against the Dark Arts class, waiting for the professor to begin.

It wasn't just you at your table. There were also two boys, whose names you can't remember. They were both bragging about different things to you, one about Quidditch, the other about his amazing skills in Herbology.

It was a painful sight to watch, seeing as Sebastian was sat at the table just behind you. From where he was, he could very obviously tell they were trying to flirt with you. It bothered him deeply, why would these guys ever think they had a chance with you?

Smart, beautiful, perfect you. Things he all believed. Of course, he didn't think anything of it. Why wouldn't he acknowledge how beautiful you were? That was just simple human nature. But that didn't stop him from wondering why he was so bothered by the guys flirting with you.

He hated the thought of them doing anything with you. Talking with you, kissing you, touching you. The thought made his blood boil.

This wasn't the first time this had happened. Sebastian can recall the many times your chats were interrupted by another guy trying to take you on a date. Of course, you said no each time, but it wasn't any less annoying to him. He'd learned to refrain from rolling his eyes at this point, but still silently cursed the lads in his head.

"Alright, everyone! Take a seat." Professor Hecat spoke, allowing the two boys at your table to sit at their respective seats.

"Today, we are going to be doing something a little different. I want you to each partner up with someone, and then I will be explaining the rest." You immediately got up, about to go towards Sebastian when another boy got in your way, Liam, if you can remember correctly.

"Hey, Y/N, wanna partner up?" Sebastian couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes this time. You paused for a moment, trying to find a way to politely reject the boy.

"Erm, sorry... Liam, right? I'm afraid I've already partnered up with Sebastian." The brunette boy lit up at your words, suddenly feeling confident and looking at Liam with a smug face.

The other boy nodded with a tight lip smile, before leaving, defeated. You sat down next to Sebastian, who now had a bright smile on his face. "What are you all smiley about?" You teased.

"Nothing, let's listen for Professor Hecat's instructions, yeah?" Both you and him brushed it off, spending the rest of the class chatting up a storm and doing the assignment.

___

A few days have passed, and it just so happened to be Valentine's Day. You and Sebastian had gone to The Three Broomsticks to drink a butter beer together, as your own 'Galentine's Day', though you weren't sure if you could call it that because Sebastian wasn't a girl, but you were both single so the concept was the same.

You were sipping on your drink, enjoying each other's company when you see a guy who you recognize from your Charms class, someone whose tried to ask you out before, approach you.

"Y/N? It's Patrick, from Charms? I was wondering if maybe you'd wanna get a drink with me." This visibly angered Sebastian, his grip on his glass tightening, knuckles turning white. Before you could speak, Sebastian decided to tell Patrick a few words of his own.

"Don't you see that she's busy with me right now? And I don't know if it's clicked in that noggin of yours, but have you ever considered that maybe she's just not into you?" His voice was slightly raising at this point, but you couldn't help but find it attractive.

Patrick's eyes widened a little before backing up, muttering an apology and walking away. You turned to face Sebastian. "Why did you do that? You didn't even let me get a word in."

"Oh, please, Y/N, didn't you see how he was looking at you? It's like you were a chocolate frog and he was ready to eat you! Trust me, he's not the right guy for you." You quirked an eyebrow at his statement.

"Then who is?" You watched as he hesitated for a moment, before taking a sigh as if to prepare himself, and looked you in the eyes.

"I am," You stared at him in shock, not knowing what to say at the sudden confession.

"Y/N, I'm not sure why I didn't come to this realization sooner, but I've fallen for you. Deeply. I mean, we've gone through everything together, and you're just so perfect. You're truly one of the most amazing people I've ever known, and I've never felt this way about anyone be-"

You cut him off by leaning forward and capturing his lips with your own, catching him off guard. He's thrown off at first, but quickly matches your rhythm with his own, your lips fitting together like puzzle pieces, sparks flying everywhere in the room.

The kiss is everything and more. With his mouth still on yours, he grabs your chair, pulling you in closer, before moving his hands to you, one on your face, holding your cheek, the other holding your hand.

You both break apart, breathless with stupid smiles on your faces. "I've been waiting forever for you to say that." You grab his hand with both of yours.

If it was possible, his smile got even wider at your words. "You have?" You nodded, figuring it was time to confess.

"You've given me absolute butterflies since the moment I met you, Sebastian. I had all but hoped that you felt the same way. Why do you think I've always rejected the guys that flirted with me?

It's because it's you. It's only been you." You lean in for another kiss before Sebastian suggests a real date, perfectly fitting the day. The two of you leave The Three Broomsticks, feeling happier than ever before.

#Sebastian sallow #Sebastian sallow x reader #Hogwarts legacy #hogwarts #harry potter #Sebastian sallow fanfiction #Sebastian sallow fluff #Harry Potter hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow fanfic

[hallietblr]

my favourite birthday girl | j.fisher x reader

request: i would like to request can it be where jere and i are best friends and its my bday belly and conrad throw a surprise bday party for me at the becks beach house and jeremiah & i go upstairs and we go in his bedroom he confesses that he liked me since last summer and i have my first time with jere trying different sex positions like hes on top of me and im on top of him riding him & doing cowgirl style position lots of kissing can it be smut/angst and is it okay if i include my name and if not you can do y/n thanks babe❤️❤️❤️❤️🫶🏻🥰

a/n: i fricking LOVE this!! i had so much fun writing it and i hope you all enjoy!

warnings: SMUT (minors DNI), oral (fem! receiving), swearing, alcohol consumption, and jeremiah being a total sweetheart

—

the sun was shining brightly through the windows of my bedroom, the morning breeze coming through smelling of sea salt. i flutter my eyes open, taking in the warmth of the summer. i reach for my phone that was charging by my bed side. the moment the lockscreen wakes, it’s full of birthday messages.

i feel myself smile as i go through the individual texts from all my friends back home in maine. i respond to them all, thanking each of them for the kind and loving messages.

after doing so, i finally decide that it’s time for me to get out of bed. i stretch out the slumber from my body before crawling out of the warm bed. i grab my phone and my bluetooth speaker and head over to my bathroom to start my birthday right.

cruel summer by taylor swift starts playing loudly as i pull off my pajamas, which was in reality one of jeremiah’s old t-shirts. i decide to text my friends to see what the plans were for the day, assuming they had something in mind.

—

SUMMER GANG☀️🌊🫶

y/n!

goodmorning guys!! what are the plans for today?

stevie:

con and i are going fishing at the pier today

belly <3:

i told my mom that i’ll go to the store with her today!! sorry girl!

y/n!:

that’s fine haha have fun! tell laur i said hi:)

j:

i should be available today i think

connie:

i thought ur coming fishing?

stevie:

yeah!! boys trip!!

belly <3:

wow i’ve nvr seen us all so busy lol

j:

wdym it’s a regular day

connie:

nvm mom says u need to clean ur room jere

stevie:

LOL

belly <3:

so true, it’s gross jeremiah

j:

shut upp

urs isn’t any better bells

belly <3:

:(

y/n!:

stop being mean j

—

i close my phone, a bit disappointed that it appeared that all my friends forgot about my birthday. i try to shake it off and assume that they’re all busy, so remembering a birthday isn’t that big of a deal.

i step into my shower, washing my hair with my coconut shampoo and conditioner, lathering my body with body wash, and shaving every inch of my body. i sing to taylor swift as i shower, feeling my muscles relax in the warm water. i dry myself off with a towel and pull on a cute purple summer dress that i had gotten earlier last week.

after putting on some makeup and doing my hair, i figured that i was ready to go downstairs to see my family. at least they would remember my birthday.

you only turn seventeen once, plus laurel, susannah, and my mom always told me that seventeen is an amazing year.

my mom was preparing my favourite smoothie bowl when i got to the kitchen. her face lit up after seeing me turn the corner and a smile drawn up her face, “happy birthday, my babygirl!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a tight embrace.

i hug her back, “thank you, momma!”

she hands me the beautiful smoothie bowl, “here you go, sugar! let me go get you your presents!”

my mom scurries away to her office before returning with multiple gifts all wrapped up in colourful gift wrap. she places them on the kitchen island before sitting down beside me.

i was already half way done my breakfast when my dad and baby sister came into the kitchen.

“happy seventeenth, babydoll” my dad grins, planting a kiss on my forehead, “i can’t believe how grown up you are already.”

“happy birthday sissy!” my four year old sister yells, hugging my leg. i ruffle her hair, thanking the both of them.

my mom urges me to open up the presents, she had always been a huge gift giver — seeing people’s reactions were her favourite thing. i open the sealed boxes, revealing lululemon clothing, a new ipad, gorgeous jewelry, and some makeup products that i’ve been wanting to get.

“mom!” i exclaim, in shock of the overwhelming amount of gifts, “you didn’t have to!”

“oh, honey,” she coos, brushing my hair, “it’s your seventeenth birthday! of course i had to, do you like them?”

i look at her with my mouth opened agape, “yes, yes! of course i love them all! you know me so well, thank you!”

my arms wrap around my mom, squeezing her tight.

“my first baby,” she whispers into my ear so my sister, lindsay, doesn’t hear her, “i love you with my whole heart.”

i finish up the rest of my breakfast, while also admiring my new items. my dad also takes a few photos of us, most likely to post on his facebook page later. luckily, i look decent right now.

“eat up,” my dad says to me, “your friends are probably waiting for you.”

i shrug, “they’re all busy today.”

my mom turns to me with a raised eyebrow, “seriously? do you want me to call susannah?”

i shake my head quickly, “no! it’s alright, really.”

“i’m sorry, baby” my dad squeezes my shoulder, “you can hang out with us today.”

i give him a small smile, “that sounds good.”

the rest of the day was uneventful, well not exactly. it was moreso just a typical day for us. my sister and i went swimming in our pool, i watched tv with my parents, and scrolled through my phone a ton. i really didn’t want to confront my friends about them forgetting my birthday, it would’ve been immature was what i told myself. it’s not like i’m six anymore.

i was laying on my bed when i received a text message.

—

j:

heyy pretty

wanna come over? we just came back from fishing 🎣

y/n!:

sure :)

j:

awesome! see you soon!!

also wear something nice ;)

y/n!:

why?

j:

not that you don’t always look nice!!!

my mom wants to take photos or smt lol

y/n!:

oooook

—

my brows furrow in slight confusion of the request but i shrug it off. i get up from my laying position and go to my closet to find something ‘nice’. i find a black satin slip dress that i brought from back home, i figured this would be nice enough. i put it on and look at myself in front of my mirror.

i smooth down the material of the dress, checking how it looks from the side and from behind. i silently pray that jeremiah would like it, i’ve overheard him, conrad, and steven talk about how jeremiah is an ass man multiple times — considering how the satin material of the dress perfectly fits my bum, i’m convinced he’ll appreciate it.

i grab my phone, sunglasses, and my favourite lip gloss before heading downstairs. i see my parents cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie together with my sister fast asleep in the space next to them.

i slide on my white converse and head over to them, “i’m going over to the fishers.” i tell them. they smile and remind me to have fun and to be home by two am.

the walk over to the fisher summer home is brief, a quick five minute walk. them living only two houses over from mine always came in handy. i open up the front door before my vision became black.

“do you trust me?” he says, jeremiah’s hands clamped over my eyes.

“if you ruin my mascara, j, i might cry.” i joke, “yes, i do trust you.”

“okay, good.” i can hear his infamous smile in his voice, “come with me.”

he guides me slowly through the house, his hands still over my eyes. jeremiah lifts them off and it takes me a moment before noticing all the decorations put up around the kitchen. there are streamers hanging from the walls and across the ceilings, so many pretty balloons in every corner of the room, a huge ‘happy birthday’ sign hanging on the cupboards.

my hand flyes to clamp over my open mouth, “oh my god!”

steven, belly, laurel, susannah, and conrad all jump up from their hiding spot behind the kitchen island.

“surprise!” they all scream out. i smile widely, taking in everything,

“you guys!” i gush, as im being pulled into a hug from jeremiah, “thank you!”

his muscular arms hold me and he plants two kisses on my hair, “did you really think we forgot your birthday, pretty girl?”

i laugh, “well maybe! you guys are forgetful sometimes… like the time you forgot belly and i at the walmart!”

he rolls his eyes playfully, “oh shush, that was one time!”

“we never forget birthdays here.” susannah giggles before also hugging me, “happy birthday my gorgeous and beaming girl.”

everyone takes their turn in hugging me and wishing me a happy birthday. i thank each of them individually, the smile never leaving my face once.

“who planned this?” i ask laurel, who was carefully pulling out the birthday cake from the fridge.

“it was all belly and connie’s idea” she smiles, “now go sit!”

i take my seat next to jeremiah and steven before laurel brings the cake with seventeen candles on it in front of me. they all sing happy birthday to me and i close my eyes to make a wish.

every year since i was five years old, my birthday wish has been the same. not even just for my birthday, anytime i saw a shooting star, or tossed a penny in a fountain, or honestly any other occasion that required making a wish — it has always been the same.

it was wishing for jeremiah to notice me in the same way that i see him. it’s all i’ve ever wanted, as stupid as it can get.

i blow out all the candles and susannah cuts up the cake into slices before serving it to everyone. belly reminds me of all the birthday presents that they had gotten me, and to open it later.

after cake, susannah and laurel agree to leave the home to go to a cocktail bar so that the kids can have the house to themselves for a few hours. more teenagers from cousins start showing up, all of them wishing me a happy birthday as they come in.

drinks are being served, music is playing loudly off the multiple speakers scatter around the home, beer pong matches are being played by the pool, people dancing.

jeremiah stays next to me for the whole night, we chat with a few of our friends while sipping our seltzers.

“do you wanna go upstairs for a bit?” jeremiah says to me in a hushed tone, “y’know, to get away from this?”

i nod, “yeah, for sure.”

he smiles, taking my hand into his own and guiding me through the crowd and up the stairs. we walk to his bedroom, he closes the door behind me and locks it. jeremiah places his drink on his dresser and offers to put mine next to it, i agree and soon we’re both seated on his bed.

we make small talk, him asking about my birthday so far as he rummages around in his desk drawer. he sits back down beside me, facing me. he places a small velvet box into my hands,

“open it, my favourite birthday girl.” he smirks, looking into my eyes. his hand was on my thigh and i can feel myself blushing.

i think i can get lost in his ocean eyes, they’re so beautiful and full of life. i smile and carefully open it, inside was a gorgeous golden ring with a large (what im assuming was a fake) diamond on it.

“j…” i gasp, lifting the ring out of its box and admiring it, “this must have costed a fortune.”

he shrugs, “anything for you, look on the band.”

i bring the ring closer to my eyes and see that there’s an engraving on the inside of the band.

in love with my best friend <3

my jaw drops, “jeremiah?”

i look up at him, our eyes interlocking. he slowly nods, “i love you, y/n — i’ve always have, i thought it was a childhood crush and i don’t think i really realized until last summer that i truly do love you.”

“can i?” he asks, taking the ring from my hand. i nod and he carefully slips it onto my finger before being it to his lips and kissing it.

i pull him into a kiss, my hands rested on his cheeks and his on my waist. he kissed back almost immediately. my hands move down to his built chest and gently push him down onto his back, our lips never leaving each others. i adjust my legs so im straddled on him,

“i’ve always loved you too.” i whisper against his lips, he smiles into the kiss and kisses me harder.

his fingers fiddle with the edge of my dress, hands sliding up and down the back of my thighs before squeezing my ass slowly, “god, i couldn’t take my eyes off of you in this dress. it makes your body look so fucking good.” jeremiah groans.

i lower my crotch onto the evident tent in his pants, he gasps at the contact while slowly grind my hips on his.

“fuck, you’re gonna make me come in my pants.” he moans into my ear as i flip my hair onto one side. i bring my face to his jawline, kissing it and licking the soft skin. his hands tighten around my ass and i moan at the contact.

his hand slips under my dress and to the lace material of my thong, his finger slide underneath the band of it. he lifts it before letting it go, the snap of my underwear against my skin making me moan louder.

“sit on my face,” he tells me in a low voice, i feel myself getting even more wet and excited at the tone of it, “let me give you another birthday gift.”

he lifts me by the waist and moves me so my core is hovering above his mouth. i grab onto his head board while jeremiah slowly moves the lace material to the side and lowers me onto his face.

i gasp loudly when his tongue licks a long stride between my folds. he moans into me, “fuck, you’re so wet for me, baby.” he mumbles against me, the vibrations causing me to throw my head back in pleasure.

jeremiah dips his tongue into me, licking up all the juices and tracing figure eights against me. i squeeze the headboard tighter, becoming a moaning mess quickly. his tongue is magic. he fucks me with his mouth, my thighs shaking around his head,

“shit, jere.” i cry out, feeling my high coming closer. his hands squeeze my ass yet again before landing a smack on my left ass cheek. i moan loudly in response, my body flowing with immense pleasure, “fuck, i’m gonna come!”

he never slows his tongue as i feel my orgasm come crashing down on me. waves of pure pleasure crashing down. jeremiah licks up every last drop as i slowly come down from the high. i move myself down from his face and back down towards his groin. i lean down to kiss his passionately, tasting myself on his lips,

“holy shit, i can eat you out all day long.” he says to me as his hands fumble with his pants. he kicks off his pants and boxers. his erection slaps his lower abdomen and i drool at the sight of it. it’s huge, red tip begging for attention and veins pulsating on the sides of it.

i move to give him a blowjob but his grip on my waist prevents me from moving, “it’s your birthday.” jeremiah tells me, “you can give me head another time.” he winks

my hips position themselves above his thick and veiny cock and i lower myself onto it. he fills me up perfectly and we both moan loudly at the same time. every inch of him inside on me as i bottom out.

i slowly start rocking my hips against him, both of us becoming a panting mess. his hands never leave my hips, lifting me and slamming me back down onto his dick.

“you feel so good, baby” he praises, “you tight pussy feels amazing around me, fuck”

i continue riding him, my hands tangled up in his hair, pulling it which makes him moan.

“i- i think your cock was made for me.” i whisper in his ear before kissing him harshly.

he smirks, “oh yeah?”

and i nodded feverishly before he flips us around so im on my back and his on top of me, “sorry baby, i want to be in control now”

he pulls out almost entirely before slamming himself back in, the new position making him hit me even deeper than he was before. he thrusts harder and deeper, my back arches and i grab onto the sheets beside me, “fuck i’m close” i cry

“me too, hold on.” he continues fucking me, littering kissing on my face and neck. i can feel my inner muscles squeezing around him which makes jeremiah groan, “i’m fucking gonna come.”

“let it go.” he encourages me, his thumb going down to start abusing the bundle of nerves. almost immediately, i feel myself orgasm. my legs tightening around his waist and i feel him finish inside of me. he releases a series of curse words as he fucks us both through our orgasms.

a few moments after he pulls out and rolls next to me. we’re both breathing heavily, trying to catch our breaths, “holy shit” i pant out, looking over at him.

he grins, “that was amazing.”

“beyond amazing.” i repeat and he laughs,

“fuck, i should’ve asked you this before.” he says, reaching over to cup my face, “will you be my girlfriend, y/n?”

i blush, “yes, a hundred times yes!”

—

taglist! @randomaccountworld123 @bxbyyyjocelyn @20nugs @jeremiahxaesthetic

#jeremiah fisher fanfic #jeremiah fisher imagine #jeremiah fisher x reader #tsitp imagine #jeremiah fisher x y/n #tsitp x reader #jeremiah fisher angst #jeremiah fanfic #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah fisher fanfiction #jeremiah fisher fluff #jeremiah fisher smut #tsitp smut #the summer i turned pretty x reader #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty smut #the summer i turned pretty fanfic

[junggunz]

nyctophobia ft. gun park | 🔞

summary: your fear of the dark has been bad for as long as you can remember. many restless nights lead you to forget to turn on your night light before going to bed and your nightmare comes to life. cw: fembodied!reader, sleep paralysis demon!gun, reader is mentioned to be in therapy, kinda plot heavy tbh oops, mentions of derealization since u know...reader has sleep paralysis, SMUT, masturbation is mentioned, TW!!!!NONCON somnophilia, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), p in v, spanking, creampie. all characters featured are 18+ wc: 3.7k an: spooky szn was kinda rough this year ngl. BUT HEYY I POSTED BEFORE HALLOWEEN hehehe. also ily if you catch the asking alexandria line reference.

Discarded clothes trail from your bedroom door to the foot of your bed. Judging by the pieces and imagining how they must have looked when they were on your body, it’s obvious why you were in such a rush to get out of the confines of the fabric. In such a deep slumber, worn out by all the activities and obligations that took up your daylight hours, it’s no wonder why you skip your usual nightly routine. 

As soon as the sun is done setting, beautiful golden hues no longer warm your apartment and nightfall is sneaking in through the window, you’re usually so quick to turn some lights; trying to emulate the comforting warmth of the sun. But today, it was already night time when you got home, your living space seemingly consumed by the black abyss.  With how much you prefer being in a well lit space, it was out of character seeing how swiftly you navigated your exhausted body through your apartment and to your room without stopping to even turn on a single hallway light. 

So focused on getting into bed and heating up the cold sheets with your own body temperature, you didn’t pay any real attention to the way the shadows of the night warped and twisted in your presence. Even after you’ve settled and gotten comfortable, you refuse to acknowledge the murkiness surrounding you; choosing to keep your eyes closed. Letting your mind wander and take you far away, it wasn’t long before your thoughts were filled with erotic fodder that caused a tingle of heat to develop between your bare thighs. Thumbs hooking into the waistband of the flimsy fabric you called your panties, you hastily shoved them off your hips so you could partake in some stress relief before you fell asleep. 

And now, here you were. Fast asleep, indecently exposed from the waist down as Gun circles your bed in the same manner of a shark hunting its prey. It’s just you and the demonic embodiment of darkness now. After so many nights of keeping him confined to only the shadiest corners of your apartment—the closest he could ever get to you being inside your closet that was far across your room—he felt like he was the one going insane. 

Ever since you were young, you knew the darkness wasn’t all it seemed. It noticed you. It whispered to you. It beckoned toward you. It plagued you with night terrors; taking you to the limbo of consciousness and unconsciousness, forcing you to see gruesome faces on the walls of your bedroom as you lay paralyzed in bed. When you finally acknowledged it, it took you in its claws and dragged you into its madness. 

No one believed you when you talked about what you experienced, the adults around you simply dismissing it as a childish phobia you would grow out of when you were older. With how often the darkness would speak to you, it only grew louder and more demanding; seeming like it grew stronger and taller just like you were as you got older but still remained scared of the dark. 

Whenever Gun recalls the way you behaved after your first therapy session, he can’t help but laugh at how brave you tried to act around him. Insistent that he wasn’t real and he didn’t scare you, echoing the words that everyone around you said to you. You could deny him and reject him all you wanted but he would always be right behind you or just out of your peripheral vision as a mass of black smoke staining the walls. And because no one could ever understand what you experienced, it was easier for them to all assume that you were just crazy. 

Oh, if they only knew…

Gun’s touch is very real as his fingers dance along your exposed thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His patience had worn thin long ago and he had no desire to take his sweet time with you. Countless nights of taunting and teasing you in your dreams in retaliation for you treating him like a caged animal. Whether you were aware of it or not, your fear of the dark had been feeding Gun for as long as he had been in your life. With a phobia so intense, it was only natural it was able to manifest itself this way. And you seemed to be aware of that, going to extreme lengths to avoid being shroud in darkness and never sleeping with the lights off. 

Despite all your efforts to conquer your fear of the dark completely— managing it to the best of your ability as you work toward that goal—you’ve been having persistent nightmares as of recent. Nightmares disguised as erotic dreams that have you waking up sweating and shaking; unsure if it was from being face to face with your biggest fear or if it was from the excitement of seeing your fantasies play out in your mind and feeling oh so real. Even if it’s basically the same dream night after night where you spend half of your dream trying to outrun the inky figure chasing you down an unilluminated corridor until it finally backs you into a dead end, yanking you flat on your back by the ankle and looming over you. Then, his features become more apparent and it’s no longer just a shadowy figure standing over you. His eyes are a pitch black devoid of all light but the rest of him leaves you at a loss of words; not knowing if you had the language to describe how attractive he is. The scar between his obsidian eyes seems to be the only imperfection he has but in all honesty, it makes him even more handsome. 

Overcome with desire for this man in front of you, it slips your mind that you were still having a nightmare. The beginning embers of lust are quickly put out by the bone chilling gaze he stares down at you with.

  Tch, you’re scared of the dark but here you are, looking at me like I’m something to eat. Crouching to your level, he takes your chin in his hand and examines the expression of uncertainty painted on your face up close. Thumb grazing over your plush lower lip, he’s suddenly prying upon your mouth and holding it open; his thumb now pressing down on your tongue. The action has saliva pooling in your mouth until it’s dribbling down the sides of your lips. Such a sinful mouth. No wonder why you seek out the light for salvation. 

Your one sided conversations with the man differ every night; as do the way he interacts with you after he’s backed you into a corner. But how he chases you down to taunt and torment with tactics that arouse both fear and longing within you then waking you up right before you could get to the good part is consistent. 

At least, it usually is.

The lines between dream and reality blur as you look at your bedroom through heavy eyes, your eyelids sticking together from you being too exhausted to remove your makeup. Your room looks exactly how you remember it before you fell asleep; the only thing that makes you doubt you’re awake is how muddled your mind feels. It’s like there’s some grainy filter over your vision and there’s a disconnect between your brain and body. You try to roll over to the other side of your bed, craving escape from the sheets you were tangled up in and the overbearing heat it was causing but your body doesn’t move on your own accord. Instead, you feel hands that mimic the temperature of a furnace on your hips, turning you to lay on your back. Using every bit of strength in your body to crane your neck, to see what was going on and there he is. 

Between your bare legs. 

Cheek nestled against your inner thigh, tepid breath fanning across your private parts. 

How could a man you’ve only ever seen in your dreams be in your bedroom? Accepting that this all just had to be a dream, you lay back and simply wait for it to be over. And that’s exactly how Gun wanted you to respond. He wanted you to believe it was all just a hallucination and he wasn’t actually lapping up the arousal trickling out of your hole; going as far to lick up the dried remains on your inner thighs from when you had masturbated right before falling asleep. If you had thought all of this was some sort of erotic dream, you’d have no problem surrendering to him. But given how you reacted to him in your dreams, Gun didn’t doubt that you’d do that at any time. 

Being able to touch you and taste you like this turns out to be worth his while, making Gun feel like your thighs were made for cheeks to graze as his lips drink up your nectar straight from the source. Tongue slipping between your folds, leaving a warm trail of his spit from your clit to your entrance, his eyes train themselves on your sleepy face; watching the way you react to him. 

Such a needy little human you are. Canting your hips up with every little action he makes, leaving a sticky mess all over his lips and chin. Gun can already imagine how desperate your screams for more are gonna sound once he’s had his fill of you. 

Living in the same obscurity as your shadow, Gun has seen you getting down and dirty with hookups and temporary boyfriends with his own eyes. They’re never anything impressive or worth writing home about seeing that you’re still single. And just a sliver of attention to the swollen pearl between your folds has you gushing. 

It’s all quite pathetic, honestly. 

But it’s what Gun revels in the most. All it takes to get you to open up is him bringing his fingers up to your entrance, applying the slightest amount of pressure. Then, just like that, your hole is stretching around his finger like it was meant for him. Slow and easy, the digit is sinking all the way into you; not for your pleasure or comfort but solely so Gun could enjoy all the worldly pleasures of you shuddering and clenching around him. 

Mostly unconscious still, you manage to put up a fuss and whine as his lone fingers slowly moves in and out of you. Craving more of him whether you were aware of it or not, by the time Gun eases a second finger into you, thick strings of your arousal are seeping out of you. Each push of his fingers fills your otherwise silent bedroom with filthy, wet noises. Having an almost innate understanding for what it takes to bend and break you, he angles his hand to press his fingers into a spot that somehow manages to get you even wetter. A few firm presses into that soft spot within your gummy walls and you’re clamping down on him so tight he can barely move. Unamused by you trying to hinder his actions, the clenching of your pussy only fuels him to thrust his fingers into the spot harder until he’s drawing out little bursts of your wetness that make the muscles of your interior thighs quiver. 

Eyes not even half open, you’re barely able to register the familiar feeling of that knot in your stomach snapping when you orgasm. You can feel the wet sheets sticking to your butt and thighs confirming the thought that you had a wet dream yet your body refuses to cooperate with you to let you escape the damp bedding beneath your body. Through the little field of vision you have, you can see the inky shadows moving around your bed and it sends a chill throughout your body. Heart hammering against your chest as you begin to panic, realizing you couldn’t move to turn on the lamp on your bedside table. The most movement you’re able to make is to squeeze your eyes shut and pretend that you didn’t notice the darkness playing with your mind. 

Alas, every time you had noticed the darkness, it would notice you back.

“You never put up much of a fight when you get sleep paralysis, do you?” A voice speaks to you, cold, menthol scented breath infiltrating your nostrils and making you feel dizzy. 

Dread really settles in as you don’t know what’s worse; the possibility that a real person was in your apartment, speaking to you while you were immobile or the off chance you hadn’t been hallucinating and you were actually face to face with something from your nightmares. Accepting that either option yielded unfavorable results for you, you slowly crack open one eye. 

And when your vision adapts to the eigengrau landscape of your room, there he is again. 

On top of you and looking down at you with an amused expression. Your body had been so numb you didn’t feel him pinning your wrists on either side of your head—even if both of you were well aware that you weren’t going anywhere. 

“Lucky me. On the one night you don’t have your home lit up like a beacon for moths, you’re already half naked for me. Have you been waiting for this?” Gun chuckles menacingly.

You don’t notice the single tear escaping your eye and streaming down your cheek but you do feel him leaning in to lick it away; making you whimper in fear. Pulling back from you, you’re able to really take in his appearance as your eyes widen slightly. Totally black eyes void of all light with perfectly coiffed hair just as dark, the scar—he’s definitely the one from your dreams. What you thought wasn’t possible was very much a reality right now. 

“Don’t you get tired of always gawking at me like that?” He asks in a patronizing tone and as much as you want to avert your gaze, you’re scared of what he might do if you take your eyes off him. “I think I like you better when you’re sleeping and not looking at me with that pitiful expression.” 

You want to believe that you were finally able to turn over on your own but the fingertips digging into the meat of your hips are so hot you swear they would leave behind burn marks in their wake say otherwise. His touch is like being nipped by stray embers; fleeting but hot enough to shock your nerves and make you flinch at the contact. Slowly but surely regaining sensation, you’re able to move your leg when Gun’s knee knocks against it. 

Settling between your spread thighs, you can feel all of the heat emanating off of Gun’s body and you don’t have to think too hard to realize what’s coming next. Even with how silently he moves in the night, the unmistakable sensation of precum dripping on your skin gives him away before he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock. Back arching and hips rolling toward him, you let out a soft mewl; finally becoming aware of how your arousal was outweighing your fear of him.

“Have you no shame?” Gun teases, amused by you trying to push your weak, little body more toward him and take him inside you. 

You never would have guessed but your eagerness pleases him and soon, he’s gripping your hips tighter and pulling you back on to his cock; entering you in one clean thrust. So wet and so inviting, your hole doesn’t even try to resist him. Instead, it’s squeezing him tighter and urging him deeper. You think you let out a moan when Gun gives you his entire length, but your mind is so hazy and you still haven’t fully come to terms with whether or not you were dreaming. None of those silly little thoughts matter anyway when the head of his cock is sinking into you with no remorse; the stretch of him causing your expression to morph into one of discomfort. 

“Too big for you?” He laughs at your whimpering, feeling the way your limp body suddenly tensed up. 

You don’t reply, only letting out a pitiful wince as he starts to thrust into you slowly; each movement so intensely deep it felt like he wanted to break you. Displeased by your silence, the direction of his thrusts changes ever so slightly until he’s grinding up against some sensitive spot within you that you weren’t even aware of until now. 

“F-fuck…” You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut and grabbing the sheets like they were a lifeline. As much as it would amuse Gun for him to taunt you further and coax an answer out of you, he doesn’t care enough to hear the assurance that he was the biggest you’ve ever taken. It’s pleasing enough to see how easily you turn into a mess of moans and sobs as his pace picks up, sharp hips slamming into your plump behind so hard it feels like you’ll bruise there too. Every single one of Gun’s actions and movements are so rough and brutal, he doesn’t consider how fragile and puny your human body is compared to him. Although, when the thought crosses his mind, he still doesn’t think to ease up on you in the least bit.  

Gun is no stranger to otherworldly pleasures, but there’s something about the way you’re wrapped around him so snug and oh so wet that has him hooked. The combined heat of your bodies joined as one is addicting. All he can think about is feeling every inch of you inside and out. 

“Why the fuck is this still on?” He growls, referencing the oversized sleeping shirt you had on then angrily ripping it off of your body; tossing the shredded scraps of fabric off to the side and leaving you fully nude before his hands are greedily taking in the feel of you beneath his hands.

You weakly look over at the torn fabric, frowning slightly at the idea of having to buy a new sleeping shirt but quite honestly, that was a shirt left behind by an ex and had overstayed its welcome in your wardrobe. 

Being so savagely taken advantage of like this shouldn’t arouse you so much but there’s no denying the lewd squelching of your wet cunt every time Gun pushes into you. Maybe you find solace in the idea that this is just a dream; even if you didn’t fully believe it. Maybe your newfound kink was something else you needed to bring up in therapy. Either way, being in this state of delirium induced by all the pleasure you were feeling combined with the fact your brain was foggy as you tried to gain full consciousness has you moaning into your pillows. 

Sweaty and flustered with droopy eyes, your body no longer feels like deadweight when you squirm beneath Gun again, trying to escape his punishing thrusts. Alas, even with the newly regained mobility, you forget to consider the tight grasp he keeps on your hips until he pulls you back to meet his movements. Gun’s hips plow into you hard and fast with no regard for your current state. You may have been sleeping earlier, but he had already gifted you one orgasm and that was pretty generous of him. Now, he’s focused on his own pleasure, using your body as he pleases; you seemed to be enjoying it enough anyway.

You’re babbling nonsense as he continues to ruin you with his cock, your pillow damp with your tears and drool. Realizing that you were trying to speak to him, Gun lifts one hand and brings it down on your ass cheek one, two and three times. 

“Speak up, slut. What do you want?” He questions you, the same hand he spanked you with gliding up the expanse of your back before intertwining into your hair and harshly tugging. “Don’t tell me it’s too much for you.”

Your jaw hangs open in a wanton moan as Gun pulls your hair again, causing your neck to twist at an uncomfortable angle so he can take in your unbecoming appearance. 

“Is this a dream?” You finally ask in a meek voice to which Gun responds to by leaning down to pull your whole body up so your back is pressed to his front and wrapping his arms around your torso to keep you in place; his hands roughly groping your tits.

“Is it really that good you’re questioning if this is a dream or reality?” He chuckles darkly in your ear, hips unrelenting and the new position making you feel him even deeper if it was possible. 

Your walls pulse around him and his cock responds by twitching inside you. An animalistic growl rumbles in Gun’s chest before he leans down to sink his teeth into your shoulder. Thrusts getting sloppy and falling out of their rough rhythm, the constant pressure against your sweet spot causes you to cum all over his aching length. Not even seconds after that, you feel a rush of warmth flooding your hole; hot ribbons of his seed painting your insides. The way your greedy little pussy squeezes around him in an attempt to milk him for every last bit of cum causes him to let out a maniacal laugh before he roughly shoves you off of his cock and face down against your bed in your original position. 

“You’re not too bad. Sleep with all the lights off tomorrow night and I’ll help you figure out if this was all just a dream or not.” Gun tells you, giving you a goodbye in the form of one last slap against your ass. 

And with that, the stinging of your flesh is enough to cause all the nerves in your body to go into a frenzy; that familiar tingly sensation in each of your limbs coming out of nowhere. Finally able to move again, you sit up in bed. Looking around your dimly lit room as the first rays of the sunrise peek through your blinds, the man is nowhere to be seen but the combination of body fluids leaking out of your hole and onto the sheets is still very there…

Guess you would have to do as he says and sleep without a nightlight if you wanted to see him again. 

#tw: noncon #tw: somnophilia #lookism smut #lookism x reader #gun park smut #gun park scenarios #park jonggun smut #park jonggun x reader #junggunz.txt

[luna0713hunter]

Hellooo~

I just found your blog rn and I immediately fell in love with your works(especially sukuna ffs).

I love the way you write sukuna and reader's relationship.

And if ur ok with it, may I request a sukuna x reader angst? Maybe where reader is a sorcerer and she got badly injured and got into a almost death situation during a fight and sukuna is smh guilty for it??

You can ignore this if u want to<3

-🍪

Author's note : Hi hi ( ꈍᴗꈍ)oh my gosh im so happy to hear that!!!thank you so much darling!it makes me super happy

Mhm,i love the smell of fresh angst with happy ending in the midnight lmao. I'll gladly write it!! Hope you enjoy this,Cookie-chan!

Warnings : Sukuna Sorcerer au!,angst,injury and blood,happy ending!

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

You knew this would happen,and you were happy to rub it in your idiot boyfriend's face with a big "i told you so."

That is,if you make it out alive.

The curse before you lets out a loud noise, something akin to cackle,as it watches you with it's multiple eyes. You glare,but even you know it's lost all heat;with blood oozing out of each part of your body,you can barely even keep your eyes open. Your body feels weak,and all of your joints hurt like hell. Your eyes drift to where you broken phone is laying and you just hope that your help signal has gone through before it was damage for good.

"ah," you mumble as you spit a mouthful of blood on the ground below; watching as it drips down on your hands, "today sucks. Its all Ryo's fault."

Your hazy eyes turn up and you watch as the curse dances around;each one of it's disgusting eye spinning around wildly as it looks at you with glee.

The son of a bitch is having fun killing you.

"you're lucky, y'know," you giggle slightly from how slurred your words sound; the blood lose making you lightheaded, "If Ryo was here,he would've torn you to pieces. But, he's an idiot."

Because he really was; starting that morning with the message from the higher ups about your new mission, you had told Sukuna that it would end badly. You had told him more than twice that something smelled fishy;that the higher ups were out to get you. But Sukuna,had dismissed your worry,and with a small scoff had said you're paranoid. At least,now with you dead,he would be proven wrong.

You grin maniacally at the thought;serves him right.

Leaning your back against the tree,you watch with bleary eyes as the curse steps closer;you dont even care. You're too tired to fight back. So you just sit there, thinking about all the things you'll miss;your friends and family,that one bakery with those delicious coconut buns,your boyfriend Sukuna,and most of all-

"i never got the chance to hear him say i love you..."

Maybe out of everything, you'll regret not dating your boyfriend sooner.

You're so lost in your thoughts,that you dont notice the sound of the curse has been faded away. And when you hear a small shriek,and hurried footsteps running your way,you just close your eyes and drop your head. You're fully expecting the curse to rip out your heart,when gentle,but frantic hands,take hold of your bloody cheeks and raise your head slightly. With a pained groan,you open your eyes just enough to see a heap of pink,and a familiar pair of red eyes.

"Ryo...?"

"yeah,yeah babe. Its me," his voice is steady,like always,but you can hear a small undertone of worry and it brings a smile to your lips.

"told ya..."

The hands on your cheeks rub at the corner of your lips to wipe away the blood.

"yeah,i know. And I'm an ass for not believing you." You feel yourself shift,and with foggy mind, realize he has lifted you up in his arms, "I'll make it up to you. Promise."

You giggle and rub your head against his chest;his scent already soothing your mind.

"can i have those sweet buns then?with hot chocolate?"

"whatever you want. First, let's get you fixed up yeah?"

You mumble your agreement and close your eyes. And when you wake up the next time,its to a tray full of your favorite sweet buns and a warm mug of hot chocolate.

Your boyfriend embraces you tightly,and kisses your forehead.

"i love you."

And maybe getting almost killed,was worth it after all.

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

P.S : I love coconut buns and im currently craving some so i had to add them lmao.

#ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk imagine #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[manias-wordcount]

Can I request a Howl fic where he literally whisks u away to fuck and makes you forget all ur worries? I love the way you write Howl, it's so hard to find good howl fics so ty 🙏

Dizzy (Howl Jenkins Pendragon x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲!

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚!! 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁, 𝘃𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝘀𝗼𝗳𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝘅

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Dizzy. He makes you feel dizzy.

  It happens all the time. When he pulls you away from your work. From your reading. From chores. From your worries. He takes you in his arms. When he holds you so tight and so close and so warm. He makes you feel dizzy. He makes your head spin and your heart swell. He makes your skin feel like it’s on fire. So hot- so damn hot to the touch. But above all else?

  “You take me so well, my starlight.”

  He makes you feel so, so good.

  “Ah…” A soft mewl pours from your mouth. It’s the furthest thing from innocent. It’s the furthest thing from decent. But you’re helpless to stop it. Helpless to control it. The sound just pours from your open mouth. It walks free from your parted lips. The drool starting to spill out from the corners of your mouth does little to slow it down or lessen its volume. But it’s exactly how Howl wants it. It’s exactly how Howl wants you. So blissed out. So fucked out. And feeling so fucking great that you start to forget things that once were important. “Um…Howl, it’s… sogood.”

  So good that you start to forget anything that isn’t his name.

  “That’s it…” Howl murmurs from above you, moving his hips in time with his words. “I got you, starlight. I got you…”

  You let out another sound, but you don’t even try to form words. His voice sounds so pretty yet so far away. And his words sound absent. Like he’s far too focused on what he’s doing to you rather than what he’s saying. And that isn’t too hard to believe. You can just barely recall how this started. How he seemed so concerned as he watched you flutter around the house after sending Markl on a long list of errands. The work was starting to pile up and you were starting to stress. So at first, you didn’t even want to lay down with Howl. You felt too panicked. Like you had too much work to do yet so little time. 

  But all it took was a few honeyed words and suddenly, you were being led to your bedroom by his hand. Candles being lit as you passed them by. The blinds being drawn closed to give you enough sunlight to see, but enough privacy to feel like the only person in the world as he swooped in and pressed his lips against yours. Sometime later, your clothes are off and his face is between your legs. He lapped at your pussy with great, great thirst in between the love bites he bit into his skin. Making you squeal and squirm until you promised him that you would take the rest of the day off to let yourself be spoiled. To be treated the way you should be treated. To be loved the way you should be loved. All by him.

  Now, he has you on you on your stomach. A pillow propped up under your hips and your head resting on another one. Last you saw his pants were down to his ankles, and his hair was tied up and out of the way as he sunk his cock into your tight, awaiting hole. Now, his body crowds around you as your bodies become one. He whispers to you in these times. He tells you how pretty you looked today. He tells you how kind you are. How smart and wise and perfect you are to him. He tells you how much he wanted you today. How much he wants you all the time. How he thinks about nothing but taking you in his lap and lifting up your skirt and stuffing you nice and full of his fingers until you’re all soft for him. How he thinks about nothing but pulling your panties to the side, bending you over the nearest surface, and keeping you there until you beg for him to move. But most of all? 

  He tells you that your body must be made of magic. That you must be made of magic. Because why else would his own body tell him that he needs to have every inch of you claimed as his if you were anything but?

  But you’re not sure of his words. You’re not sure of really anything right now. But you do know that you don’t want him to stop. You don’t want him to stop rolling his hips and filling you up. You just want him to take control. To keep making you feel good. To keep commenting about how good you feel. How wet you are. How loud you are. How sweet and pretty and pliable and needy you are. All for him. Only for him. 

  But you don’t tell him any of this. You can’t. Because he makes you dizzy. So dizzy that you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning little mess he speeds up his strokes and you soak his dick in your cream. So dizzy that’s all too soon, you’re clenching around him- and clenching even harder as he groans in pleasure. Your voice gets louder. Louder than the sound of the bed shaking and the frame hitting against the wall. Louder than the embarrassingly wet sounds your precious little cunt makes as it swallows him up inside. Louder than the sound of his body making contact with yours- his pelvis bouncing against your ass time and time again as he goes deeper and faster and deeper and faster and-

  “See how good I take care of you, starlight?”

  His voice is like heaven in your ears. But it still makes you so dizzy. He makes you so dizzy. So you don’t respond to the low, low murmurs that come out of his mouth once more. At least not with words. Because your body is all too eager to offer up squeals and whimpers and whines as he increases his pace. Your body is all too eager to shift behind him as his lips press themselves against your skin. Letting him deliver all the kisses he wants to the space behind your ears and your neck and your shoulder and wherever else he can reach. Because you’re putty in his hands. Because you want to be spoiled. Because you want to listen to him. Because you need him as he needs you.

  “I’ll take care of you like this every single day if you let me.”

  So you’ll do what he asks of you. You’ll only think of him. You’ll only fill your thoughts of him, him, him.

  “So only think of me…”

  Even if the mere mention of your Howl makes you so incredibly dizzy. 

#wizard howl #wizard howl x reader #howl jenkins #howl jenkins x reader #howl jenkins pendragon x reader #howl jenkins pendragon #howls moving castle #howls moving castle x reader #howls moving castle fanfic #howls moving castle fanfiction #howl's moving castle x reader #howl's moving castle fanfiction #howl's moving castle fanfic #howl's moving castle #x reader #xreader #fanfic #fanfiction

[continuumitgirl]

hi!!

so i’ve known ab subliminals, manifesting, shifting for a while, but always had minimal success. i was never able to get the ‘big’ things i wanted.

but since being on tumblr, i learnt about STATES. which i had previously known about when i had read the power of awareness by neville goddard. unfortunately, that didn’t last long as i started watching manifesting gurus on youtube and got clouded with information again. (no hate to sammy ingram) But i watched her a lot. and i never got that much movement even tho i was consistent, it would make me feel guilty if i was t affirming enough. and i would beat myself up, saying to myself “if u really want this, u need to affirm more”. i would do the 10k challenge, 10 min stuff, but it was soooo overwhelming. so much stress because i wanted so many things, and i felt like i didn’t have enough time, i had other stuff to do, so even tho i was consistent, i would stress myself out, wondering if i was doing enough, doing it right, etc.

this mindset was toxic, although i didn’t realise it then. i just would get so upset because i trying to hard. which is why it also took me a min to realise.. that i shouldn’t be trying that hard to get something … u either have it or u don’t! so anyways, one or two weeks ago, i came on here because i was done. i wanted my desires. enough. At first i got swayed by the void stuff, which made me put it on a pedestal . which made me angry, i was like bro not this shit again. i don’t wanna waste another months or years. and somehow i stumbled across states. i’ll admit it took me a second to grasp. i re read the power of awareness. and realised it is simple, once i understood it, i deleted tumblr and focused on my life, while occupying my ideal state.

One thing that i’ve been wanting a lot is to travel this year. I travelled last year a bit with my friend and spent 3 months in another country during the summer and it was phenomenal: i wanted this again for 2023. I want to live my life yk.

Well this morning my mum woke me up to tell me we are going on 2 holidays. one next month and one in easter. Athens, Greece and Verona and Venice, Italy.

i was like omg this is amazing ?? we had talked a bit about it and every time we did i was like “yes. we’re going” in my head. and today we booked those holidays.

Now what’s so special about this? Well i made a pinterest board end of 2022 with places i wanna go def this year!! every time i looked at this board i was like “it’s done” [just the way i think ab every desire, because it is done, it’s mine, it literally comes from my consciousness so it’s inseparable to me]

and yeah!! i have 2 other places on this pinterest board but it’s literally the 31st of January 2023 rn and we’ve already booked for 2 of them so that’s a fucking success. i’m so confident more than ever about my power and how the 3D truly is just a reflection of my consciousness/ state i dwell on often!!!!!

yeah as u can see i literally have athens, venice, paris and amsterdam pics on here as a vision board :))))

i want to thank @0t0mie @lotusmi and @angelsinluv (also to twitter users that explanation states v well and posted motivating content . i don’t rlly use twitter for loa stuff cus my irl friends follow me there but there’s a community over there i would lurk on that encouraged states and helped me understand that the mindless affirming in aim to TRY and get ur manifestation was pointless)

anyways i cannot wait to post more loa success stories. this way of manifesting not only makes so much sense once u grasp it. it literally is so fucking easy and effortless 😩 cannot believe it took me this look to figure it out but honestly its fine. my desires are already mine now. that’s all that matters 😎💪

#loa #law of assumption #states loa #manifesation #manifesting #manifesting success #neville goddard #void state #spiritual #subliminals #shifting #shifting consciousness #consciousness

[stxrvel]

i don't wanna live forever (5)

summary: the time had come to destroy HYDRA and collect for all that had been taken from them...

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: 6k

warnings: descriptions of: blood, wounds, fights and weapons. probably gonna wake a lot of sadness since the begining. mentiones of suicide thoughts. heartbreak. stubborn characters. mentions of character deaths (canon). remember i'm not that good at writing action scenes and that English is not my first language!

note: hi guys! i didn't rest today at work. instead, i wrote 6k words for my actual hyperfixation and i'm actually exhausted. sometimes i write first in spanish and then in english, when my head is not up for the double translate, and leave the conversion to future me. this is future me talking and i hate myself for that. but i'm kind of proud how this one came out, so i hope you guys like it the same! feedback and reactions are always appreciated! see u guys next time &lt;3

part 1

It was already getting dark when the small cellar you were in with your friends filled with applause and singing, a joy bouncing off the walls as you walked in Steve's direction with a grin from ear to ear. Your blond friend watched the small cake Peggy had gotten him that afternoon head towards him between your hands, setting it down on an upturned wooden barrel, a little damp, that they would use as a table.

Peggy and Bucky were off to the side, their faces matching your excitement as Steve reached down and shook his head.

“I don't even want to imagine how you got that cake in,” was the first thing Steve said when the happy birthday song ended, shooting you a grateful look. His eyes sparkled like you hadn't seen in many days and you felt Peggy's squeeze on your forearm as she came over to form a little circle just like Bucky.

“Trust me, you don't want to know,” Peggy shook her head, her smile matching the blond's.

You watched Steve split a piece of the cake with a spoon you had no idea where Peggy had gotten it from, your friend bursting out laughing when Steve raised his head and she smeared white cream all over his nose. At that moment you felt Bucky's body heat behind you, all your senses turning on at once.

“No candle, but you can make a wish before you take the first bite.”

Steve shared a look with his friend, still with that twinkle in his eye and the most relaxed expression he'd had in days. He was still wearing his uniform, having caught him by surprise to bring him into the warehouse after a long day of planning strategies for the next mission against HYDRA. You and Peggy had been thinking for several days about doing something, and being that it was rather difficult to throw a small party in the camp you were in, you decided to opt for something a little more ordinary and familiar. You couldn't say, however, that Steve didn't like it, not when you saw him smiling at everyone so openly, shoulders down and spreading laughter to everyone around him.

With the spoon halfway to his mouth, Steve closed his eyes and made a wish.

You smiled indulgently, watching two of your friends share a small moment as Steve took some more cake to give Peggy. With your hands behind your back, you suddenly felt Bucky's left hand make its way through your fingers, intertwining your hands very carefully.

“How's the taste?”

Steve shook his head nodding at your words, his brow furrowing in pleasure as he enjoyed the large bites he was taking of the cake. At that moment, all you could think about was how much you would sacrifice to stay in that bubble forever, even without knowing what was coming next.

-

“Are you okay?”

You heard his footsteps before you saw him, his body leaning against the second to last step where you had sat and turned away from the others. The routine you had had to get used to over the past few months, after believing you were going to change the world, had become a constant burden that was hard to shake off. Still, you took and cherished moments like those when you could go out and sit and just watch the vast sky stretching for miles. The stars shone so brightly there, in the middle of the forest, that they seemed like little beacons seeking to guide you to a better future; perhaps to a future that you did deserve. Steve also sometimes accompanied you in silence, having learned that he couldn't always argue with you about the meaning of life and the purpose for which you two had to carry out the unjust orders of superiors. You once saw one of his drawings, a woman sitting at the top of a flight of stairs and a starry night giving her a message of hope. Maybe he saw it the same way too after a while.

“Yeah,” you replied to Bucky with a tight-lipped little smile.

Bucky didn't know much about you now. As the weeks went by you realized it was true what he had once told you, when the America's couple shows and his platoon's stay coincided for the first time in months. You had changed a lot since the serum injection. And, well, who wouldn't, after all? That's why when you were together after so long he spent time very close to you, very aware of you, checking with his excellent senses that nothing was out of place. That you were okay.

You didn't know if he had believed you, by the way his face remained expressionless, barely a slight twitch of his eyebrows, but he didn't repeat the question.

“Do you think there's anything else for us, besides this?”

Bucky turned his gaze to look at the sky and you watched his profile, the curve of his eyelashes and his half-opened lips. Situations like that had become commonplace, too. Since you no longer spent so much time together and you had changed so much because somehow you had to adapt to the harsh reality against which you had crashed, Bucky constantly wondered many things about life that ended up being his own fears materialized in existential crises. For him his world was shaking. Since you told him that you had been invited to the Super Soldier project with Steve, everything had become uncertainty for him. Uncertainty about his life, about your life, about the life you wanted to have together, uncertainty about the future, uncertainty about life.

You had the conception that Bucky could never fully adapt to the abrupt change that meant his two best friends were involved in a private experiment that gave them heightened senses and more strength and speed than an average human. Now he seemed to looked at himself like the mere mortal who walked shoulder to shoulder with two gods. He seemed to feel that death would knock faster at his door and it drove him mad.

“Yeah, I don't think this is it,” you shook your head in assent, watching out of the corner of your eye as Bucky rested his forearms on his knees and leaned forward a bit. His hands interlocked and parted, his fingertips met and parted, his fists opened and closed.

“But you'll outlive me,” Bucky looked down, his blue eyes glittering focused on yours under the moonlight. You could barely hear movement in the back of the hold where Peggy and Steve were still talking. Your heart flipped at the vulnerability you saw through his eyes, lately more common than you'd like. You didn't like not being able to quell those thoughts that dominated his head; the insecurities and fears that made him doubt so many things in the middle of the night.

“We'd live the same amount of time,” you assured him shaking your head, your own mind refusing to accept that Bucky's fears could take more power over him. Whatever you could do to calm him, you would do, always.

“You have the serum. You and Steve will live for many more years. Hell, maybe you'll even be immortals,” Bucky tried to smile, but a grimace settled on his face and made his words bitter. He was subtly trying to untwist his shoulders, barely moving to your side trying not to show too much that he was kind of nervous.

“Why are you telling me that now?” you shifted on the wooden step, moving a little closer towards him. Bucky tensed visibly, not because of the closeness, but because he knew the moment was coming when you would stop following his lead and start asking him what was really plaguing his mind. For some reason, Bucky couldn't approach those topics of conversation naturally, letting his mind and words wander a bit before daring to take his fears by the horns.

“I don't know… I guess. It's a truth I have to accept,” he confessed, his voice so fragile and soft that had it not been for the extreme hearing the serum had granted you, you surely wouldn't have understood him. You felt your heart crumple and moved your hand from your lap to cradle his hands that he still could not let still.

“But it is a truth that is still a long way from being fulfilled.”

“And first we have to get through the war,” Bucky turned his hands to lace them with yours, his fingers intertwining with yours and giving them a squeeze.

“We will. I have no doubt about it. In fact, I have a plan to persuade Phillips,” you smiled at him trying to lighten the weight on his shoulders a bit.

Little surprised, Bucky let out a laugh, his free shoulders shaking in sync with his chest. A beautiful smile spread across his face, and you would've enjoyed it except you could still notice his tired eyes and the dark traces beneath them. It seemed that the moonlight intensified the reality of his emotions.

“You always have a plan for everything.”

“What can I say? I'm an optimist,” you lifted your shoulders, leaning against Bucky's side. His head dropped to rest on the crown of your head, his breathing synchronizing with yours for a moment.

“Between the two of us, you definitely are,” he murmured, taking a deep breath, enjoying the moment for several seconds. “Sorry for… coming to bring up those topics of conversation.”

“No, it's okay. I like to listen. And you tend to do that sometimes,” you shook your head over his shoulder trying to dispel the topic, Bucky's hands tightening around yours.

“What?”

“You suddenly talk about things you don't want to tell me too much about and then put a little light-hearted attitude on it so it doesn't sound so serious.”

Bucky lifted his head, causing you to move in time to meet his surprised expression as well. His lips were trying to twitch into a smile, but he didn't seem to know if he wanted to laugh or frown.

“Do I really do it that often?”

“A little, yes.”

“Ah, I'm pretty bad at dissembling I guess,” Bucky looked up, finally succumbing to the smile. The gesture satisfied you enough to delve into the emotion with him, taking a moment to further enjoy that scenario you could no longer be a part of lately; to enjoy those everyday moments where you could feel love materially spark around you, as if it was a novel written solely to satisfy human romantic desires and whims.

You shook your head, returning to the subject.

“But you don't have to worry about my supposed immortality. I know we'll live the same,” you assured him once more, your arms wrapping around his right arm and squeezing it securely, hugging him, trying to send him some of the confidence you felt inside.

“How are you so sure?”

The truth was, you weren't, but you couldn't let him know that, much less let him know that you didn't expect his life expectancy to be as extensive as yours was now either. But how were you going to tell him that? He must've been martyred enough by his own thoughts during every moment of the day when they drowned him, and it wasn't as if you expected too much of a life after him either. You could have immortality served on a silver platter, but what would be the point if you had to spend it on your own? Bucky was thinking about not wanting to leave you alone, and you were thinking about the impossibility of finding a reason to live after him.

“Because I know I don't want to live forever if I'm not with you.”

Bucky stopped his light, ghost-like caresses on your fingers. He turned his face to look at you, his nostalgic expression disappearing in a matter of seconds. His blue eyes looked contrite, as if there was a storm inside them. You had never hesitated in your answer, no matter when he had asked. And yet you seemed to have taken him by surprise; it seemed that such a thing would never have crossed his mind even by accident.

“Y/N…”

“I'd be living in vain. Stolen time,” you shook your head, averting your gaze from the depths of his, an unknown kind of longing or fear furrowing across his features that you couldn't bear to see a second longer. You were there at that moment and you would see each other again later, why did you have to think about it too much?

Bucky sighed. Only when you felt his body relax against your side did you know he understood that it would do no good for him to try to antagonize you.

“Still, you deserve a life like this. After all you've been through,” his voice was barely a whisper that tore through the silent chill that surrounded you, but the implication of his words furrowed against your chest like a dagger. You shook your head before the memories could reach you.

“We all deserve it, especially in this world consumed by the greed of power and hatred.”

You saw him nod out of the corner of your eye, his hands wrapping around one of your hands, the one closest to his side and bringing it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. His eyes were fixed on your profile, you could feel it, but you were afraid to turn to look at him and allow your emotions to come out. You were too sweet to succumb to strong feelings when you were with Bucky.

“Hey!” was Steve's voice, like a beacon in the middle of the ocean, making you both turn at the same time. “Peggy's just leaving.”

“Want a ride, Barnes?”

“Ah, it would be my pleasure, Agent Carter.”

Peggy moved, after saying goodbye to Steve and you, and walked in the direction of the huge forest that stretched into the distance where she had parked her car. Or Howard's car, you couldn't quite make out through the darkness.

“See you later, Miss I-don't-want-to-live-forever,” Bucky approached you with a half smile, having said goodbye to Steve, meeting him halfway to melt you in his arms. The tension in your shoulders eased considerably, a sigh making its way into your chest.

“Take care, Bucky,” you squeezed his waist, because you weren't tall enough to reach his shoulders in a hug, and he squeezed you back in response.

“Sure thing. I got to see my girl again, after all.”

You laughed between the hollow of his neck and shoulder, feeling your cheeks burn. Bucky broke away just barely to look at you with his own huge grin.

“Don't overdo it, Barnes.”

“Come on!” Peggy insisted, glancing at the watch on her wrist.

You broke away from Bucky, trying to push him to get into the car with his affianced friend, but he had other plans. In the midst of your struggle to push him away, he grabbed one of your wrists, using very little force to pull you close to his chest, his lips crashing against yours in a fleeting action, but not at all rough, barely a brush. Before you knew what happened he had already pulled away from you.

“When I get back, we have a lot to talk about.”

He never came back. He left in the next couple of days for the mission on the train and all you got back was a shattered Steve, his face dirty and sticky from all the tears he'd shed, his pleading eyes crystallizing on you the moment he had to tell you that Bucky had died. You could still remember how his voice cracked as he begged your forgiveness, repeating it over and over as if it would ease the burden he felt on his shoulders, the guilt for not being able to get him in time. You never blamed Steve for what happened, but it seemed like he did for a long time.

Reliving those memories was always a constant martyrdom. After Bucky's funeral you didn't think you could move on, but carrying all his pain in a sack of rocks, Steve assured you that they would avenge the reason Bucky had died. HYDRA. So you did and were able to carry on for a while until Steve was also declared KIA.

Peggy and Howard were a great help when you realized that you couldn't die on your own, because you healed faster than normal and could spend more time than humanly possible underwater. To say that you didn't try to leave the earthly world would be a lie, but your friends tried to help you in every way they could until you had to leave the United States. When you thought you would have to spend years hiding in Europe, Howard told you that wasn't necessary. Just staying under the radar and out of the feds' jurisdiction would be fine and he would take care of it. And one day, after spending a week in the apartment you were renting without getting out of bed for almost any reason, a knock on the door startled you.

“Correspondence,” rang through the silence of the apartment.

You only got up because you knew the mailman was wrong. You had given your address to absolutely no one and there was no way any person knew of your existence in that country. You thought you took pity on the man, when he handed you the letter and it did indeed have your name on it.

It was an acceptance letter from some university. Apparently you had enrolled to study mathematics.

You had a suspicion of what was going on, but something in your chest asked you to ignore it. The letter asked for an interview before classes started in exactly three days, and after that interview you received a letter from Peggy.

When Howard died you knew you couldn't go back to Europe. Largely because you had to find out who his killer was, but also because you wanted to watch over Peggy's life as you couldn't do for your other three friends. You were often terrified for your friend's life, especially having the job she had and dealing with all those powerful people who wouldn't hesitate for the blink of an eye to order her death.

Steve was right. You stayed with Peggy to investigate Howard's death. But you also stayed because she was the only thing you had left and you had to take care of her; you had to preserve her, to do everything you could to prevent another tragic and unnecessary death. You would've sacrificed anything in life just to allow Peggy to have the life she deserved. And so you did. You cared for her for many years, you were so attentive to her that her children called you aunt and then her grandchildren called you grandma; you were at all her family gatherings, giving gifts to her children at Christmas and celebrating each new year as you watched time pass through her eyes. Every January 1st you saw it as a win, a whole year in which so much sacrifice had been worth it.

Now… well, now everything was a bit more complicated.

Natasha had left the abandoned dam first after going over the plan one last time. You were supposed to go with Steve and Sam, even though Steve was reluctant to have you near the Winter Soldier again, as if you didn't have the same strength and agility as he did. Of course, his fear was rooted in something completely different than that, something he and Natasha had discovered with Zola.

“HYDRA spent years searching for you to recreate the super-soldier serum after the war. If not for the excellent work Peggy and Howard did, they probably would've found you more easily.”

Now, having such a palpable possibility of destroying HYDRA, you didn't think there was the slightest chance that they were still thinking about it, although Natasha stressed that it seemed to be that the soldier had two different missions when he found them in the middle of the city, one of them being that he was to keep you alive. Zhivoy, you recalled bitterly. Alive.

Steve didn't want to risk finding something else waiting for them when they reached the helicarriers, something that might lead you away from him. And yes, you understood his concern because it was the same one you'd felt for years and was more latent recently since Steve returned. But you weren't going to stand by like a fucking statue while they did all the work. You would take it upon yourself to destroy HYDRA completely and deprive them of any chance they might have to get close to Steve, you or Bucky again. Whatever you had to do, you'd do it.

“He's not the same,” you had told Steve, as you walked to the Triskelion in the company of Sam and Maria.

“But he'll remember us,” Steve assured, his hand tightly gripping the strap with which he held the shield. Steve had been repeating that to himself all day, even in front of Sam. You couldn't believe you were the one trying to maintain an objective demeanor in that situation.

“Yeah, maybe at some point. But right now it's not him, Steve,” you turned to look at him, his face fixed on the expanse of water surrounding the large building he used to work for. “He's not the Bucky we knew.”

Steve looked back at you, pausing for a moment. You knew he was mindful of it, you knew Steve was aware of how dangerous he was now; that there was a good chance he really didn't remember them and you wanted to make sure that wouldn't cloud his judgment; that he would still fight for his life.

But the resolve in his eyes didn't convince you. His lack of response fanned a hollow in your chest, your hands breaking out in a cold sweat as you stared at the empty space he left in front of you.

Steve was willing to bring him back and you were afraid of losing him.

For some reason, you felt it had to be different.

-

You heard Steve's voice over the speakers, running so you could find the helicarriers exit before they took off. Steve and Sam were supposed to meet you halfway, but you were already halfway there, fighting off a few agents, and you still didn't hear them nearby. Your breath caught in your throat as one of the STRIKE agents grabbed you by the throat while another plunged an electric baton into your side, the sensation of volts coursing through your entire nervous system sending you into a momentary state of shock.

You dropped your hands to stop struggling with the agent behind you and grabbed the wrist holding the baton with an overly strong grip, snapping the bone in place and jerking your head to strike the face of the man behind you as his grip wobbled for a second. Both agents fell to the ground, two bones broken in less than a minute. You grabbed the baton before departing, hitting them both in the head barely using half your strength, knocking them unconscious instantly.

As you exited the Triskelion facility to meet the gap you would have to jump over to intercept the first helicarrier, you heard Steve and Sam's voices closer. Oh, right, you forgot to use the communicator.

“Where were you?” Steve exclaimed, running alongside Sam closer to the chasm.

“You've got blood on your neck,” Sam pointed out, before spreading his metal wings and flying off into the sky.

“Put on your communicator,” Steve asked you just before you both jumped at the same time, a feeling of emptiness planting itself in the pit of your stomach.

You landed with your legs bent and leaned forward for a spin before getting up and continuing to run alongside Steve. You rummaged in one of your pants pockets, praying that the small devices hadn't been shattered during the fights you had inside the Triskelion.

Only one was spared.

Steve barely sent you a reproachful glance, shaking his head, as you approached a horde of HYDRA agents. You barely finished putting the small communicator to your ear when the hail of bullets came in their direction. Steve grabbed your arm to pull you behind his shield until he managed to hide behind two large containers. The fight was immediate.

The group of agents split up and you jumped right in front of two of them, sliding on the ground to use the baton from below to disarm them. You knocked one of them out with the high volts of the baton and the other tried to stab you from behind, but you stopped his hand midway and flipped his arm over, a shriek of pain escaping him as his shoulder dislocated. The man fell to his knees and, lifting one leg, you half-turned to strike his face with your full tibia.

“Cap, I found the bad guys you were talking about,” you heard Sam's voice, noting that, although that communicator was working, the voice you perceived sounded distant.

“Are you okay?” you heard Steve, as he came closer and you stepped on the handle of the staff, lifting it in a single stroke so that it landed in your hand.

“Not dead yet.”

Steve nodded, though he knew Sam couldn't see him and gave you a questioning look.

“Works?” he pointed to your ear, starting to pace.

“A little bruised, but does the job.”

Your friend shook his head, starting to run inside the helicarrier.

“Cap?” you smirked.

“Don't start,” the blond spoke through his teeth, moving toward his target. “Report location.”

You nodded in his direction, heading for the first agents who appeared to obstruct his path, clearing Steve's way in the direction of the helicarrier hub.

When you were done with the agents and Steve was finally able to enter the control center, you turned your attention to the voices ringing through the communicator.

“Ah, shit,” was Sam's voice, and the next thing you heard was gunfire around the helicarrier next to it.

“Fine, but you're going with me. I don't want to let you out of my sight,” Steve had said a few hours before they left the dam, leaving no room for argument in his haughty voice.

“That's unnecessary, Steve. We'd waste too much time,” you shook your head, trying to match his stoic, stern expression.

“She's right,” Maria nodded in your direction. “There are three helicarriers and three of you.”

“No,” Steve began to rise, your eyes following the movement of his body and his blue eyes fixed on yours. “Fury delegated orders to me, and that's an order.”

You indulged Steve until you lost sight of him, understanding he had said that out of pent-up fear. You grabbed one of the weapons that had been left on the ground and passed the strap over your head. The third helicarrier was a considerable distance away at a jump. You had to pick up too much speed to even make it to the tip, but you weren't going to stand there waiting for Steve when you could be doing something more; something necessary.

So that's what you did. Steve still hadn't reported state when you started running from tip to tip, your steps getting bigger with every second until you reached the gap and picked up momentum at the tip. That was insane. You felt the emptiness in your stomach again and out of the corner of your eye you could see a couple of explosions occurring in the harbor where the helicarriers had departed from. You stretched your arms out, counting on having propelled your body far enough, fearing a deadly fall as the other edge began to look higher and higher.

“Y/N, status,” you heard Hill, your heart in your mouth.

Your mind went blank for a second, when in the midst of the adrenaline you almost didn't even feel the moment when your left hand gripped the edge of the helicarrier tightly, the aircraft moving a little farther with each passing second. You had jumped at just the right moment.

Breathing hard, you propelled yourself upward until you could plant your feet back on the runway floor and replied to Maria, “Waiting.”

Steve must've thought you were still on the helicarrier with him.

As you ran, Sam reported that he had intercepted the second helicarrier after Steve, barely recognizing their voices amidst the tussle you were having with the agents who had appeared before you could reach the control room door.

“Y/N, where are you?” the voice of Steve came over the comm, a few minutes after you took down the last agent, moving in the direction of the metal door. You felt heavily for the programming card you had taken from Steve when he had pulled you close to get behind his shield, as you heard him ask Sam if he could see you.

You were about to reach the door when the scenery abruptly changed, a body appearing out of nowhere colliding into your left side sending you crashing to the ground hard.

“Shit.”

“Y/N?”

You ignored Steve's voice, moving to push off the heavy body on top of yours. Amidst the struggle you crawled away across the floor, a hand clutching at your ankle before you could move any further.

You recognized him by the coldness that ran through your body at the contact. You could almost be sure it had burned you.

This time he wasn't wearing the mask, those blue eyes boring deep into your head, the angry expression very different from how you had seen him last time. Although you would've liked to stay longer just watching, after spending so many years suffering his death, you pulled the leg he had held captive and tried to hit him in the face, his metal arm moving faster neutralizing the hit.

At that moment you stood up arching your back, planting your feet hard and running towards the soldier before he could catch you off guard.

You tried to strike his face, but he nimbly dodged every blow, just as you dodged his. He let out a grunt of frustration as you sent him to the ground with a kick to the chest, pulling a weapon from his side that he didn't hesitate a second to point in your direction. Feeling the air caught in your throat, you moved quickly on the ground, trying to escape his bullets while managing to find a place to hide.

You heard his footsteps approaching, as you hid behind a container, stopping just on the other side, and you moved to the right side of the container when you knew he was going to jump out and surprise you from above.

His body froze for a second, which you took advantage of to jump over the dumpster and grab him from behind, the baton you had on your belt wrapped around his neck, cutting off his breathing. You tried to hold him tight as he tried to push away your grip with his metal arm, almost as strong as your push to keep him in place.

The soldier began to slow his movements, but if you hadn't been so torn between he's the Winter Soldier and he's Bucky, you would've noticed one of his hands move over his vest, grabbing the handle of a knife and burying it in your right leg hard, all the way in, causing you to gasp.

Clearly your grip wobbled, the soldier taking possession of your staff and turning around as he pulled the blade out of your leg to direct his foot towards your chest, pushing you back to the ground where you fell with a loud thud.

The wound was deep. You could feel and hear the blood pouring out of it, but you didn't just stand there as you saw him leap down from the container, raising his arms to parry his attack as he directed the knife towards your face. His face contorted and scrunched up in concentration was all you could focus on, remembering that you couldn't let him win, but you also couldn't hurt him like he wanted to hurt you. You had to be objective, yes, but the thought of hurting him once more was heartbreaking.

You struggled with his hand until he let go of the knife, using your strength and trying to ignore the sharp pain in your leg from the effort to push him to the ground beside you with your hand on his neck and your leg around his waist, lying on top of him with one leg on each side.

At that moment, as you tried to keep your arm over his neck and he tried to weaken you by hitting your sides, you heard Steve and Sam's voices again. A small panic ran through your body which was enough for the soldier to push your arm away, grabbing you by the neck with his metal arm and bringing a gun close to your face as he rose up, taking you with him, until he slammed you into a wall with great force.

You raised your hand between your bodies to move the tip of the gun, the shot falling a short distance above your head, your exorbitant eyes watching his furious expression. His metal hand closed tighter and tighter around your neck, your breath hitching, but you didn't relinquish your grip on the hand still holding the gun.

In the midst of the struggle, you brought your knee up to strike his crotch. The soldier jerked away, a whimper dying in his mouth as you moved toward him again, pushing his arm away as he pointed the gun at you again and the shot landed somewhere behind you again.

You hit him in the face with your own head, one of your hands holding his right arm with the gun and the other trying to keep his metal arm that held the knife dripping with your blood at bay. You hit him full in the nose again, but even though the blood was starting to drip down, the soldier didn't budge one bit.

“Go!” you shouted to Steve and Sam, the soldier averting his attention for a tiny moment before struggling against your grip again.

You had to break free somehow to get the card to Steve. Your body began to give way with the soldier's thrust, your boots sliding on the floor like it was marble. The soldier began to close his arms and you tried to match his strength, but the blood leaking from the wound in your leg was slowly weakening you. And it was a vibranium knife again.

Suddenly you noticed Steve running towards you, the fleeting glance costing you restraint, as the soldier raised your arms and turned you roughly, his back crashing against your chest and his metal hand burying in your chest the knife hard, moving it from side to side as he did that cold night in Siberia.

In the midst of the pain and weakness from the blood loss, you laid your head on his shoulder, the adrenaline slowly draining from your body.

“Bucky,” you whispered like a prayer, your strangled voice barely making its way out of your mouth and the soldier tensing behind you. The struggling stopped for a second.

Then his body heat disappeared. Steve must've reached and tackled the soldier without missing a beat.

“Hey, hey,” you heard Sam approaching you, kneeling beside you and taking your hand that wanted to pull the knife out of your chest. Right through the center, near the heart. That pain was no match for the disappointment that was tearing you apart inside. Maybe that time you could actually die. “Don't touch that.”

“Give the card to Steve…” you barely muttered breathlessly, one of your hands moving to pull the card out of one of your lower pants pockets. “Run.”

Sam hesitated for a few seconds, looking between your knife and the fight that was still picking up steam in the background, until he clicked his tongue and stood up.

“Don't take that knife out!”

You saw him run in the direction of Steve and the soldier, his metal wings rising in the midst of the struggle. Steve and Sam began to get the upper hand, and at some point, Steve took off in the direction of the helicarrier control center.

You dropped to the ground, watching helplessly as the soldier overpowered Sam, dislodging his wings with the force of his metal arm. The pain was too much, but Sam was completely helpless. No matter how much training he might've had, fighting the Winter Soldier was disproportionate.

So in a matter of seconds you stood up, grasping between gasps the handle of the knife and pulling it out of your chest without a second thought.

The electric current of pain that coursed through your body was unbearable, feeling as if the hollowness you constantly felt in your chest from emotions had suddenly materialized, a constant pang that coursed through you from head to toe at every microsecond, with every movement. Sam didn't even have time to react when you grabbed the soldier by the throat, burying the knife in his leg and trying to wave him off.

You could consider yourself well served if at that moment that was your death.

The soldier grabbed the arm around your neck and leaned forward, lifting you up and flipping you over onto your back, falling hard and painfully to the ground. You looked at the knife in his leg before looking at his face again. He had a couple of cuts, his expression still angry, but he seemed to hesitate as he pulled the knife out like it was nothing and watched you lying on the ground, completely at his mercy.

His hesitation brought unease to your chest.

“Bucky,” you called again, tears welling in your eyes.

The soldier only frowned, his anger momentarily fading until he seemed to remember something.

He turned to look at the control center. Before running off, he sent you another disgruntled look, just like that time on the road.

Whatever had happened after that, death or not, was extremely painful.

-

tag: @samodivaa @rubyxx16

#and yeah i wrote a whole fic just to put that exact scene at the begining #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky x you #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine

[heartfullofleeches]

Omg monster reader trying to comfort yandere whos crying because reader is being so sweet to them? Like reader is so cute and they cry because they can’t believe they deserve u and reader basically comforts then making their tears even more? Like “don’t cryy its okay” “what did i do to deserve youuu *cries even more*”

The waterworks start as they secure the final latch on the back door.

You stand behind your caretaker all smiles as they block off your only source of freedom, leaves in your hair and blood on your claws. Your arms are filled with whatever you were able to get your hands during your afternoon of free time; bounty slipping from grasp as their tears fall. Why are they crying? You only showed them all the nice things you collected for them.

God I don't deserve you...

Your heightened senses pick up on the note of weakness. Your caretaker wipes at their red eyes and fakes as smile as they look up at you. "You have a good time, hun?"

"Always! Would've been more fun if you were with me, though."

Their breath hitches. "I'm glad... You didn't see any other humans today did you?"

"No, but if I had I would ran straight home like you said."

"Good... Good." It almost broke their heart to remember the shock on your face from what they told you others would do if they found you. "I'm sorry about earlier. You surprised me is all. Can you show me some of the things you picked up?"

You drop to your knees, sorting through the pile. Some shiny rocks. A bird you manage to get the jump on. And an small assortment of flowers. You liked those the most. Since things were finally warming up, they were some of the first of their kind you had seen in a while - plus what human doesn't like pretty things? It seemed like none according to the shows you watched, and your very own as their eyes began to water more as you show them a crushed dandelion.

"I got you these. I wanted to sneak them in your jacket pockets before you came home, so you can always have one you, but realized just showing them you would be better... Why are you crying?"

Your caretaker shrivels against the backdoor as fat tears rolls down their face. You absolute angel. Their saving grace; pointy teeth and all. How did someone like them come across a precious gem like you? How could such a monster gain your love? They trapped you in their home in the middle of nowhere, and you just went along with everything they did with no questions asked. They were scum for what they've done, and yet they could never let you go.

"Hey, hey don't cry." You swarm them in a hug, patting their head with enough intensity that it puts strain on their neck, but they couldn't care less. They sob into your shirt as you hush and gently stroke their back. This love they barred you was the guiltiest pleasure imaginable.

"I'm sorry, angel. I'm so so sorry."

"Sorry for what? I'm okay. You're the who's crying. Let's get somewhere more comfortable and I'll help you feel better."

Your caretaker weakly nods, sniffling as you tuck the flower in their pocket and help them to their feet. They lean on your shoulder as you carry them away, once again swallowed by everything that is you.

#monster reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #yandere writing #yandere x y/n

[abiiors]

haunt // bed - pt. 1

a/n: a while ago, i wrote do me a favour after which i said, i would write a matty hate sex fic. well this is it (and perhaps a bit more than anyone asked for), read dmaf again if you want to refresh your memory, or don't. there are 3 parts to this + an epilogue. i also know very little about western weddings, so ignore the inconsistencies lol.

a note about the banner: the photo in it is only meant to describe the dress, not the race, body type, hair colour, etc of the reader <3

minors dni! part 2, part 3

wc: 2.7k

see u in an hour xx

charli’s text flashes on your screen, illuminating a small corner of the dimly lit room. it’s not that late in the day, in fact, it’s quite early—only about 10 am. you’re supposed to be hurrying around the room, checking for any last minutes things you might have forgotten. you won’t be back home until tomorrow after all. yet here you are, surrounded by the things that should have been packed in your bag last night. 

the dress, laid out on your bed, feels like a weapon; red silk slippery enough to slide between your fingers effortlessly. “a wily vixen”, that’s what charli had called you when she'd seen you in it for the first. the thought of that day—bridesmaids dress shopping with four other excited girls—brings a small smile to your face. 

everything laid out here is a weapon really; your four-inch, sharp heels, the delicate and dainty diamond jewellery, the makeup you plan on wearing—blood red lipstick, a perfect shade match for the dress. an expensive crystal bottle of the same perfume you have used for the past six years. 

familiarity breeds contempt. familiarity is also an excellent knife to twist in someone’s gut. because everything here, today, is meant to maul and wound him.

see you in an hour babe, love you. you write back and chuck your phone onto the pillow where it bounces a little before nestling between its creases. you stare at it, maybe your body still yearns for a call that will never come? no more can’t wait to see you up there. no more cheeky selfies in a state of half-undress. just a smooth, black screen.

right then…time to get going. 

charli has been flittering around the room for the last twenty minutes. her white dress fits her like a dream, her makeup is a work of art and her excitement about marrying george is so palpable in the room that at least one person squeals or sighs every five minutes. 

most importantly, the smile on her face is a permanent fixture. and every time you look at it, a warmth spreads through your body. she deserves this—the happiness, the celebration. the happily ever after. no matter how your marriage ended, you won’t stop believing in it for her. 

“so!” charli walks over to you and takes your hand, “how do i look?” she twirls and the dress swirls around her, the tiny crystals catching light and making her shimmer like starlight.

you laugh in response, “like george is about to go into cardiac arrest the minute he sees you!”

the pair of you giggles like teenagers. you can so clearly picture it before it has even happened. the joy and love that will shine on george’s face; his excitement, quiet yet infectious and for a brief moment you’re transported back to your own walk down the aisle. 

small, unsure steps, worried about falling flat on your face in those tall heels, but all of that had evaporated the second you had seen his tear-stained face. and the bright smile that had bloomed a split second later. 

but that’s how long the ache lasts; a brief moment. it’s bad enough that you’re going to have to be civil to him, there’s no need to make it worse with unnecessary nostalgia. 

besides, there’s her to think about. 

she in question is a beautiful, leggy blonde who is at least seven years younger than him. not that you’ve seen either of them today…yet. it’s only because you and charli got drunk one night, four weeks before the wedding, and she felt bad about keeping it from you that matty had a plus one. and that’s how you fell into the rabbit hole of scrolling through this girl’s Instagram profile at two in the morning. 

if you thought you knew his type, you would be dead wrong. physically speaking, she is the exact opposite of you—someone who looks like they belong on a giant billboard in times square, perfect and stunning. then there’s the more questionable aspects of her feed. the flat tummy tea adverts and the paid partnerships with various brands that are always under fire for being unethical.

but that’s the ugly green monster rearing its head. it’s not like you aren’t known for indulging in vanity every once in a while. 

she will be here today, no doubt, clinging onto his arm like a decorative little thing—woah, where did that snide thought come from?! you shake your head to yourself, at least a little embarrassed. he’s not even here yet and he’s already screwing with your head; pushing you back into old jealous and insecure habits. someone clears their throat. 

nora, one of charli’s longtime friends, has her champagne glass raised. a toast. she takes a deep, shaky breath and smiles tearily at the room, about to give her sentimental speech when a resounding knock echoes and cuts her off before she has even begun. 

five heads turn to the locked door and you happen to be standing closest to it. 

‘i’ll get it,’ you tell no one in particular, hand already on the doorknob. the possibility of it hits you way too late. 

it hits you right as his clean-shaven face comes into view. 

it has been ten months. ten months since you gave up the last name healy and changed it back to your maiden name on all your official documents. it had felt like a form of catharsis, getting it done with such urgency back then. but you also remember the days when you would be asked to state your full name and stagger a little at how odd it sounded to no longer have healy in it. to not have a ring around your finger to fidget with. no one to hold you at night. 

but back to now. back to here. 

it’s not hard to see that he has changed a lot in the last ten months. he looks serious; not necessarily sombre—it’s his best friend’s wedding, after all—but mature, more grown up. the grey in his hair, in his beautiful curls, is now much more prominent. the crow's feet around his eyes are more or less the same (and it sends a small pang through you; has he not laughed recently?). his mouth holds—held—a faint smile that’s already slipping, already morphing into a thin line. the exact same face that you woke up to for years now turning into a mask of carefully arranged neutrality.

“charli,” he whispers roughly and then clears his throat, “here to check on charli.” and just like that, he steps past you and into the room where he’s engulfed into a hug by the bride (and slapped on the bum by another bridesmaid but you ignore that for now).

pointedly, you also ignore the sting that comes with being sidestepped so easily. 

you stand by the door, back still to the room, for a second longer than necessary. it doesn’t even register that you’re letting the warm spring air in. is this really how little seeing you impacts him? it must have. because if he’s here then she is also here. 

“tell him i’m fine!” charli’s voice brings you out of your thoughts, making you shut the door softly. “and tell him not to meddle, i’ve got my girls.” she looks at you over his shoulder and throws a wink. your gut tells you it’s nothing but a charity gesture, just trying to gauge the tension between you two. guilt gnaws at you—she shouldn’t have to play peacemaker, she shouldn’t have to worry about two adults behaving themselves. 

“only doing my duty here,” matty raises his hands defensively, “keeping the groom happy.” 

the rest of them tease and taunt him playfully while you take the time to admire—no, simply look at—his suit. it’s nowhere near as nice as the one he wore at your wedding, of course not. but it’s beautifully made, tailored to fit and accentuate his muscles. and there are a lot of those now, that much is evident from the way his sleeves stretch over his biceps. he fills it out nicely, not that he didn’t before, but something about the fabric straining across his arms does funny things to your stomach. funny, you thought that feeling was a thing of the past. then there’s the navy trousers that compliment his backside rather nicely. 

there’s a part of you that is appalled at all these observations you have been making but there’s another part—bored and much more matter-of-fact—that reminds you that there’s nothing under those clothes that you haven’t seen, touched, licked or sucked before. there’s nothing new. he is still the same as he was before, just now with a few extra muscles. 

“go away,” charli’s nudges him gently toward the door. “we’ll be out in fifteen.”

he hugs her just before he leaves, dropping a friendly kiss on her head. after everything you’re glad no one had to pick sides in the divorce. you’ve at least managed to hold the friend group together, even though the same can’t be said about your marriage. 

matty leaves just like he came in, sidestepping you and making sure he’s looking straight ahead. there’s a brief second however—a fraction of one really—when he slows down and breathes in. his adam’s apple bobs roughly and his face struggles to hold the blank expression. 

but it must have just been you projecting right? no one can go through that much in half a second. 

“there you are, darling,” denise walks in on you mid-smoke. “i was looking for you.”

she’s in a beautiful pink dress that brushes her knees and makes her look ten years younger than she is. you blush slightly at having been caught smoking; it’s a recent habit, not one she would be aware of, and you don’t want her to judge you for it. 

“denise,” you try to hide the half-smoked cigarette, “you look beautiful.”

she pointedly looks at your hand and laughs. “my son does enough of that.” then she straightens up, as if bringing matty so casually into this conversation was a mistake. you suppose it was—it does make your heart skip a beat. 

“i just wanted to say hi, darling,” she adds hastily, “and look at you…” her eyes scan you from head to toe, linger on your face for just a second before she smiles again. “simply stunning.”

“thank you.” your voice comes out in a whisper, fighting to get past the lump in your throat. you didn’t think there would ever come a day when she would have to so formally stop by to ‘say hi’. yet here you are, almost a pair of estranged mother and daughter. 

“i don’t…” she starts but shakes her head minutely, “i don’t want to condescend you. but are you okay? with matty bringing that girl, i mean.”

that piques your interest. “that girl?” you stifle a little giggle. “sounds like you don’t like her…”

denise shrugs, leaning against the wall and looking at the bushes in front of her. “she’s okay, i guess.” then she takes a bit to smooth out her dress. “but she’s not you.”

“dearly beloved…” the officiant, charli’s godfather, begins, which you tune out instantly. weddings are lovely and romantic, wedding speeches are dull and boring. besides, like it or not, something else has captured your attention. 

you stand behind the bride, holding the ring she’s supposed to put on george later. and right in front of you stands matty, holding the matching platinum band in his hands. adam and ross stand behind him, smiling and occasionally laughing along with the rest of the guests. you tried it at first too, to only keep your attention on george—who looks very handsome and beams wide the whole time—but it’s impossible when you feel your ex’s piercing stare right on you. 

you would have thought he would stick to the little ignoring act from before. instead, his eyes have lingered on you from the second you walked down the aisle as a part of the processional. tracking your every move, every small step. frankly, it’s insulting. does he think you would ruin the wedding as some sort of diabolical revenge against him? you scoff internally; of course, he would think such self-centred thoughts, it’s just all about him, after all.

you raise an eyebrow at him. what’s your fucking problem?

he smiles back; an arrogant curl of his mouth that turns his face from sweet to insufferable within a matter of seconds. you, his eyes seem to say, you’re my problem. 

well too fucking bad then…

you huff and look away to the side at the guests. it’s only about fifty people from both sides. just family and friends—a lovely kind of intimacy the couple had asked for. you smile at george’s parents who sit in the first row. his mum dabs at her eyes, clearly overwhelmed with emotion. and behind them sit denise and tim. right next to her. 

she’s exactly what she looks like on her instagram page. dainty and beautiful, picture-perfect elegant. her whole face looks like it could be hand-crafted by the gods (or very expensive surgeons according to the snide little voice in your brain) but her eyes are bone dry. 

that’s because she doesn’t belong here, your brain chimes in. not among your friends and your family. 

well, ex-family…

her name doesn’t immediately come to the forefront of your mind. all you know from that drunken night is how charli made you block all her socials at the end of it. as if you were going to go back to them again and again. as if you have no purpose in life other than obsessing over your ex’s new girl. 

she sighs, then looks out the window with a bored expression on her face and you have to focus your attention back to the bride and groom before you do something drastic. not before you catch matty looking at you from the corner of your eye, however. 

not just at you…he’s staring at the plunging neckline of your dress that shows off your cleavage wonderfully. with the big window to your side, it’s so clear to see every little detail of his face—his teeth gnawing on his bottom lip (he’s unaware that he’s doing it. you know that for a fact). his pupils that are blown out wide, making almost the entirety of his eyes look black; dark and hungry. 

your mouth curls into a smirk, arrogant enough to mirror his own. well, this is interesting. 

matty’s mouth presses into a thin line. even now, after you caught him so red-handed, he’s trying to deny it. but you don’t miss his ears turning the telltale shade of pink. 

“...and i promise to love you for the rest of my life.” george’s voice breaks on the last word, the tears flowing freely but he smiles through all of it. in front of you, charli’s shoulders shake. they haven’t even put the rings on each other yet and they’re already emotional. it makes you laugh, and surprising, you feel the tears escaping your eyes.

i promise to love you for the rest of my life. that’s what matty had said too. i promise to dance in the kitchen with you and do all my silly little romantic gestures. i promise to never let you fall. i promise, i promise, i promise…

so many of them unkept, so many of them just pretty words spoken on a perfect day in front of a tearful audience. 

“i do!” charli squeals before the question is even finished, making everyone laugh. a wet chuckle escapes you at her infectious joy. 

“do you, george, take charli to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the officiant asks. 

“i do,” he says patiently and charli sticks her tongue out at him. 

you sincerely hope they stay like this for the rest of their lives—polar opposites who complete each other. not people who are so similar, they don’t know how to exist in the same space anymore. 

matty smiles, first at the couple and then, shockingly, at you. husband and wife he mouths. 

jarringly still, you smile back. 

i would love to hear what you think 🤭

#matthew healy #matty healy #matthew healy x reader #matty healy x reader #matty healy angst #just angst #angst fic #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #george daniel #ross macdonald #adam hann #matty the 1975 #matty healy imagine #matty x reader #angst writing #the 1975 fic #matty x you #the 1975 angst

[pavitrsgirl]

Hii!! Welcome to this side of tumblr!! Always good to see new spiderverse writers :)

Could we maybe get a GN Hobie with a high energy and supportive punk/alt s/o with lots of piercings+ tats who don’t know that he’s spider punk? Like “HOLY SHIT HOBIE YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT SPIDERPUNK DID TODAY LOOK AT THE NEWS DUDE IS SO COOL” and Hobie’s just like ….yah.

Tysm!! Have a great day <3 <3

THANK U!!! everyone on here is so sweet <333 if hobie oocs urhrhh forgive me hes a confusing dude.... but i wrote both drabble and hcs :00

hobie brown with a high energy alt s/o

"hobie, hobie, hOBIE!"

you ran into your shared apartment, tossing your belongings into the floor carelessly in favor of dashing to the couch and throwing yourself there beside hobie, the widest grin on your face.

"(name)," he greeted with a nod, used to your loud entrances and also far too tired to return the enthusiasm for some unknown reason.

"oh my god, you'd never believe who i saw today, live!"

that smile got impossibly wider, shuffling off your heavy jacket, all the tattoos decorating your arms in full show, scooting close beside him, him taking the hint and casually draping an arm over your shoulders and pulling you closer.

"guess!"

he looked up thoughtfully for a moment, his free hand tapping his chin, thinking, before his gaze returned to yours, shrugging.

"spider-punk!"

"spider-punk? the hero lad?"

"yesyes! who else? and you'd never believe what he did, holy-"

hobie couldn't help but smirk as you began your rant about what the spider hero did, making sure not to miss out on any little details so he'd know everything. of course, he already knew, being spider-punk himself and all.

"ah, you know what! it's probably on the news, turn on the telly-"

moments like these made his desire to tell you his secret grow.

- first off i think u guys meeting would be at one of his concerts and ur style and energy jst kinda entranced him

- would become quick friends, u going, practically jumping in ur spot as u ask him to sign ur autograph with the brightest grin ever

- ugrrhhh time passes and something starts but its not rlly like, "ok we're dating now" like verbally. its just like woah one day ur dating and its a mutual thing

- he loves how energetic and loud you are, how you're urself without caring about how other ppl around think of it

- very punk of you

- omg i think he'd def take his time to look at all ur tattoos and he is jst constantly admiring them <3

- same with ur piercings!!

- u guys probably share/steal each others clothes since u guys share the same cool ass style

- as spiderpunk he likes to wink or salute at you becuz u then go talk about it with him about it later all excited

- ur such a big spiderpunk fan u think hes so cool and hobie loves that

- hes spiderpunk. why wouldnt he

- sits there and listens to u talk about seeing spiderpunk act during protests or anymore events with a little smirk

- "omgomg bros literally so cool. i fucking love him!!11! he totally beat that other guys ass today"

- "oh, really?"

- he wants to tell u hes spiderpunk but knows the dangers of it + he prob wouldnt get these rants from you anymore

- u guys would go to protests together like him as hobie not spiderpunk lol

- always seeks u out during his concerts

- not that it even is that hard since ur in the front, jumping up and down and cheering sooo loud

- idk i hc he does his own piercings so i can jst imagine him doing urs for u

- tattoos on the other hand uhhhmm maybe depends

#hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spider-man: across the spider-verse #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk #spiderpunk #hobie x reader #honestly hobies so bf #pavitrsgirl

[pisspope]

rei and zeke bday hcs cause like,,, why not (but also bc its what the ppl voted for)

tw: implied sex, references to canon typical violence

zeke

- its not that his parents didn’t celebrate his birthday at all its just,,, it was usually a small affair with influential PTA members and their kids. in other words, no one zeke got along with. very much a “seen not heard” while the grown ups sip mimosas type deal

- and of course zeke does everything in service of disappointing his parents so!!! its party time

- honestly u could try to throw a surprise party but good fucking luck this man is snoopy as all hell. every time ur out just a little too long with pieck or porco (they’re bickering over how early to buy balloons) he’s got u on the horn like “i know ur planning something”. would never accuse u of cheating bc he fully believes his own hype and knows u wouldnt DARE cheat on Adonis Himself (Narcissus more like but w/e)

- so yeah he’s probably at least a little involved in the planning of it all, wants to backseat drive because hes “not a loser who plans his own birthday party”. sending u screenshots from his notes app with his favorite colors, songs, what cake he wants, etc. lowkey insufferable

- day comes and you’ve rented out the kid’s bday party section of a bowling alley/arcade and filled it with every friend you can think of that isn’t vaguely shitty or hasn’t been burned by zeke in some way. so like… maybe 10 people, gabi and the kids included so they have a believable cover story if the staff asks who the party’s for. not that they’d care but zeke loves to play like he’s so sNeAkY and sHiFty by telling everyone it’s a party for udo or something.

- that man can BOWL and he’s an ass about it. the sorest winner in the world. in every universe he will knock down 10 or more little dudes with a rock and cheer and whoop and holler like an idiot. jeering at porco when he gets a gutter ball and you see reiner pull him aside like “just let him have it today. its his big day.” as if it is not ALSO reiner’s big day

- played with the idea of him getting a devil’s food cake and reiner getting an angel’s food cake for the lolz but he’s not sharing a party on his life so. coffee cake 100%, both because he likes it and because the kids don’t, which means more to take home. schemer that he is

- does ask for gifts but is pretty insistent about it being under 20 dollars (so he can see who overspent and ACTUALLY loves him. male manipulator). falco gets him an officially licensed sock monkey and he cries (pussy). whispering to u after that if his parents ever die horribly he’ll adopt him

- heading to the connected arcade after and, second verse same as the first, he kills at skee ball. breaks the record on each machine one after the other just to show off, gets all smirky holding the wad of tickets, talking about how he “does it all for uuuuu” and gives u the wettest sloppiest kiss on the cheek just to embarrass u

- does actually give u all his winnings tho. the high score, the posterity, the want to be remembered,,, the ego boost is enough, u can have the 2100 ticket pikachu plush <3 (u will never hear the end of this. i pity u)

- def gets home with his leftover dessert in hand and gifts in bags on his wrist, smile more genuine than usual. opening the door and letting u in, gifts and food quickly forgotten in lieu of giving you a proper thank you for helping put all this together

- 100% squeezing ur ass and asking if there’s any leftover cake for him, knowing it’ll make u roll your eyes but that you’ll relent bc the cheese is part of the charm (and boy when he gets that treat he asked for? he EATS)

reiner

- something something something same birthday complete opposite ends of the spectrum in terms of how they celebrate it

- wants his bday to be a nice quiet affair with the people he loves most, his little found family and maybe karina if hes feeling generous that year

- if u plan a party in any capacity hes gotta be part of the action! wants to hang streamers, balloons, any little things you decide on to spruce up your place for the event (please don’t call it an event he can’t handle the pressure)

- also u can’t have a cookout bday bc he will insist on working the grill the whole time. shark coded, will drown if he isn’t doing something 

- the party itself is extremely laidback, feels more like a big hangout. ordering 3 of his favorite type of pizza, bringing out beanbags and comfy chairs from other parts of the house so everyone can sit in the living room together. gabi and falco take the tv hostage to play video games and colt and bertholdt somehow get roped into it. it’s raucous, but comfortable.

- u and gabi collab on a homemade cake, but reiner is the baker in the family and gabi just likes the excuse to make a mess. end up making some easy cookies and buying a walmart sheet cake, and its a good thing, too, because just the sight of his name is enough to make him tear up. “you didn’t have to do all this” what, make a phone call to get ur name on a cake? the bar is on the floor unfortunately

- no presents because he can’t handle the pressure, but there’s a couple cards and his lip trembles over each one. zeke gets him a card that’s obviously for kids with stickers inside but he tears up at that one too because “it even comes with a little gift… so thoughtful…”

- rest of the party is spent doing more of the same, a couple beers are thrown back, maybe tosses a football around or something. very classic suburban white picket fence dream party. it brings reiner a quiet joy, one that he keeps close to his chest, a memory that he’ll look back on over and over.

- the guests start to filter out one by one until its just u and him, picking up paper plates, putting away leftovers. its all very domestic, it might actually be reiner’s favorite part. to just be with u in companionable silence, scooting around and putting the house in order. domesticity is something sacred that he never thought he’d have, and its a joy to share it with u.

- he INSISTS on sitting on the couch with u after, gives u those big eyes that he only gets when he wants u to pet his hair, falls asleep to one of his favorite comfort films with your hands on his head, totally content

- wakes up in the wee hours and carries u to bed like the big bear of a man that he is, not expecting anything of you, just wanting u to be comfortable. tucks u in and gives u a kiss like it’s your birthday or something

- and it’s not a gift bc reiner specifically requested no gifts, but if he wakes up to u wearing something special the next morning, something that leaves nothing to the imagination, i mean… maybe the party doesn’t have to be over quite yet

#reiner braun #zeke yaeger #reiner braun x reader #zeke yaeger x reader #zeke #rei #aot #cakecore #question mark #reimar #zeke yeager x reader

[dozyrogue]

I enjoy morally sound characters

Like the characters that no matter what they been through what they believe in is what they believe in

Its one of the main reasons I found purgatory so cool because it kinda showed that when push comes to shove people can and will changed,, I mean look at bolas.... That's it LMAO

no but seriously cellbit was someone most of the island would turn to with their mysterys and federation problem or just anything unusual because of the head he had on his shoulders

Everything about Phil lol

But these people who were highly respected on the island ended up on purgatory and the eye told them this is a test and that they will lose themselves, and they did all of that. bolas fucking lost their shit. I've mentioned this before (I think) that the only time we really got to see remnants of other island Phil is the battel with him and tubbo.

Anyways what I want to talk about is tubbo (not a big surprise for me lmao)

in purgatory 1 tubbo was a good leader made good strategies but was very naive and some would say foolish for making deals that hurt his team or even put his team in danger. I'm pointing at the blue/green tie thing like his team could have literally been bye byed then what???

But now in purgatory 2 hes leader again, and purg 1 mans was changed don't get me wrong b u t in purg 2 hes still himself maybe a little tougher (mans went c r a z y with the chainsaws it was great) and still wants to play mostly fair. he gave an opponent his shield during a fight to even out their fight for no reason but hes playing dirty as well, he found cellbits and bagheras waystone tped into raccoons base took their water bottles and kept it pushing.

Today in the capture the flag game apparently before hand aimsey made a deal with cyan that they would cross team. basically they wouldnt get kills from the other team and avoid killing eachother but they could still get the others flags.

When tubbo finally showed up aimsey tried to explain this and that "shubble promised" and was desperately trying to convince tubbo that they would keep their end of the deal.

But tubbo have been through this before, he knows deals and betrayals like the back of his hand, he kept repeating and repeating that it won't work out kinda falling on deaf ears and the moment cyan tried to kill orange he immediately retaliated.

He was right he was the prophet I guess, but he did respect his team and waited until they turned on him and went for them immediately. Its just very cool to see him be the one to give the warnings and aimsey acting like him in purgatory 1

He respected their efforts let play through even tho he knows the game to show them first hand that this is purgatory maybe??

I just think its cool that even after everything hes been through, hes been through so much, purgatory tried to break him, change him, make him a sinner. Even then he would keep his morals even if it is shifted some.

Hes himself to a fault and he will trust his team no matter what.

#qsmp #qsmp tubbo #qsmp purgatory #qsmp philza #qsmp purgatory 2 #qsmp aimsey #goose gang #i wrote this #instead of sleeping

[sojuyae]

no return

dazai osamu / reader + ??? / reader

notes: mild yandere themes, u drink alcohol, inspired by the manhwa 'a false confession' (massive rec hehe) drabble..? oneshot..? i don't know what to call this since it's not really fleshed out and not given that much thought so maybe its just a random blurb hahaha not proofread i just click post and never look back thats just how i am

the moment you step into the balcony, your legs almost gave out. your hand having to lean on the vine ornamented pillar as support. stillness draping over despite the festivity just behind the door.

just a few feet beyond you, stood your senior. even with your vision hazy and eyes half lidded, you think you can see his silhouette leaning over the railings, his back turned against you, coat billowing in the wind, tousling the hair of his that you've always wanted to tuck behind his ear.

he looks particularly different, today.

the man of your affections — whose hands that are always resting upon your shoulders, his touch lingering a far too much for someone who is only concerned about his coworker, muttering words of 'good job!' every time he looks over your computer to see the progress of the report he assigned.

he, who is always eager to bring you trinkets of all kinds after being assigned in a case, and if you had the ability similar to his, you would've caught on the fact that the trinkets are always given by him personally, rather than your unfortunate coworkers whose gifts are left in their desks.

yet frown would replace your previous smile once he pulls away with a pat; when you remember that everyone got the same gift as you did.

(oh, how you lamented every second that passes without him knowing how you felt.)

but that will change tonight — your intoxicated self decided to confess your long time admiration for your senior. 'and if he rejects your love, then you can just say that you were too drunk! it's easy!' tanizaki said so, as he handed you an alcoholic drink, and you shouldn't have trusted any words that comes out of the orange haired mans mouth.

even if the others knew how bad you felt about him, you prefer to believe that you could keep your feelings to yourself.

with a determination only a drunken one can have, you step further away from the loud music of the party and towards the man.

a heavy breath escapes your lips as you stand just a few feet behind him.

"sir," you first regard him with his title you've always used during work, and a part of you wonders if you'll be able to call him endearments you've always wanted to say after he accepts your confession.

you don't think you can look at him right now.

"i've been thinking about this a lot," you begin, hushed but nonetheless made for him to hear. "i, don't know if, i should really say this…" your eyes drift down to your feet, deliberating whether you should beat around the bush.

but you know you can't, this feelings of yours is too much; if you don't get to say it now, what will become of your sentiments? locked behind a glass heart that threatened to burst every time he's near?

"i really, really like you, sir." you finally say, your hands harshly gripping the sides of your clothes, scrunching them, wrinkles beginning to form on the flimsy fabric.

you refuse to meet his gaze.

silence ensues, the only sound heard; the loud rustling of the leaves against themselves.

"..."

ah, to think that you get rejected without even him saying anything.

"why?" he asks, then a hope ignites deep inside you.

"i just, really like it when you treat us kindly, you always go out your way to make sure i'm okay, your dedication to the agency is admirable, and i... just really like everything about you…"

"that's what any superior would do..." he replies coldly.

his words does not even travel first to your ears — it travels straight to your heart, so harshly that if it traveled to your ears first, you're certain you'd go deaf.

you stagger, the adrenaline the alcohol provided leaving your system.

then, he grabs your arm just in time, his bandaged hand surprisingly holding you delicately, as if he expects you to be gone once he pulls away.

"osamu. call me osamu, not sir." he says tenderly as he rests his hand on your shoulder, his arms coiling around you like a snake to a branch.

you smile gently as you bury your head in his chest. you can smell the faint scent of alcohol on his shirt, how strange, you've always thought he smell more like the sweets he'd always insist on eating. "osa—" the remaining syllables does not leave your tongue.

he rests his head on your shoulders, his curly coffee-like locks of hair tickling your neck.

osamu?

your eyes drift to his neck — are those bandages?

coffee-like?

dread fills your veins. dazai pulls back, your drunken haze along with it, finally able to look at him properly. his warm palm rests on your jaw. the dull brown eyes you’ve grown fearful of seems to reflect the stars, looking at you so, lovingly.

you don’t know what you’re supposed to be surprised of, the fact that a coworker whom you are scared of is looking at you softly, or the fact that he just accepted a confession that wasn’t meant to be his.

"should we keep our relationship a secret?" he asks with deceptive bashfulness.

--

"sir..?" you stammer as you try to look in ranpo's viridescent eyes for an answer to why he's holding your hand tightly.

"i've always thought that you…" his brows are knitted, refusing to meet your eyes, his own narrowed as he looks at the bracelet that adorns your wrist, an item begrudgingly accepted from dazai.

(he wonders if you would be mad if he forcibly ripped its beads out of you.)

he clicked his tongue at his own thoughts, shuffling to get a comfortable spot where he rested appropriately on his office chair.

"since when were you both close?"

#bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bsd #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bungou stray dogs x reader #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #yandere dazai osamu x reader #this was so all over the place #like always #been having these thoughts since i read the manhwa #i think ranpo knowing ur feelings and liking u back but still not acting upon them UNTIL someone else garners your attention is very real t #me #giggles

[betterthanburrow]

Can u do a Joe burrow insta au with jazmyn makenna??? Tysm!!

CAT DADDY - Instagram AU

(Bengals Quarterback! Joe Burrow x LSU Student! OC)

liked by: yourinstagram and 164,693 more users

joeyb_9: Graycie Baby 🤍

view all 70,284 comments

lahjay10_: who would’ve thought that LSU’s former quarterback is a major cat daddy

↳ joeyb_9: cat daddy 1st, former LSU quarterback 2nd.

yourinstagram: MY BABY!!! ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I’VE SEEN HER PRETTY FACE!

↳ joeyb_9: oh i bet miss Graycie misses you too

↳ yourinstagram: i’m coming visit after my class today… because i bet you missed me too!

↳ joeyb_9: if you do come by… don’t bring her any of those homemade treats, the last time she had those treats it took me days to get her like me again.

liked by: joeyb_9, yourbff, and 55,367 more users

yourinstagram: me and my baby

view all 10,373 comments

yourbff: so cute!!!

joeyb_9: the caption should be “me with joe’s baby”?!

↳ yourinstagram: no… it’s clear who she likes more

↳ joeyb_9: Graycie only likes you more because you make her those homemade baked treats… and remember i told you hours ago to NOT being the treats.

↳ yourinstagram: life would be much easier for you if you just officially make me Graycie’s mom.

↳ joeyb_9: hmm… i’ll have to think about that.

liked by: yourinstagram and 250,383 more users

joeyb_9: LSU Spring Game 2022

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LSU: our favorite cat daddy quarterback 🐈🤍

↳ yourinstragram: i’m glad it’s finally acknowledged that Joe is an official cat daddy… let’s get it on a shirt!

↳ lahjay10_: the cat daddy has to be Joey’s new official touchdown dance!

yourinstagram: you’re looking good cat daddy!

↳ joeyb_9: i should’ve stopped Ja’marr from giving me the nickname cat daddy when i had the chance…

↳ yourinstagram: the cat daddy nickname is the best nickname you’ve ever received.

liked by 69,120 users

LSUFOOTBALL_UPDATES: Joe Burrow’s IG Story.

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username1: GIRLFRIEND?! since when did the former LSU Quarterback Joe Burrow have a GIRLFRIEND?!

username2: is his girlfriend @.yourinstagram?! she is a masters student at LSU and her + Joe seem to be really close because they’re always flirting in the comments of each other’s instagram posts and they’ve known each other since Joe was a student at LSU.

username3: i love how the current LSU football players instagram stories are of them playing and practicing for football or them going to the gym… meanwhile we get cat content from our favorite former quarterback.

liked by: joeyb_9, lahjay10_, and 50,383 more users

yourinstagram: Graycie’s mom ❣️

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lahjay10_: i read this caption in the same font as “Stacy's Mom by Fountains of Wayne”

↳ yourinstagram: i’m glad to hear this!

yourbff: how did you convince Joe to finally let you be Graycie’s mom?!

↳ yourinstagram: it was very easy 😊😉

joeyb_9: pretty cat mama ❣️

↳ yourinstagram: i miss you and i miss Graycie so i’m coming over later today to see the two of you!

↳ joeyb_9: i’m glad you’re deciding to come by my apartment today because i have a surprise for you!

liked by: yourinstagram and 128,384 more users.

joeyb_9: meet Angelica and Einstein.

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lahjay10_: Joe went from being a CAT daddy to a CATS daddy

yourinstagram: i can’t believe that now we are the proud parents to 3 cats.

↳ yourbff: i know you squealed in shock after seeing the two new cats!

↳ yourinstagram: I REALLY DID SQUEAL! i couldn’t believe my eyes… i thought i was going crazy seeing 2 new cats in Joe’s living room.

mamaburrow: i hope you know that handling more than 1 cat is a huge responsibility Joseph.

↳ joeyb_9: i know mama… but i got Graycie’s mom to help me with the two new additions to the family!

LSU: our favorite cat daddy now has 2 new cats!

yourinstagram: it’s just us and our cats… it’s truly the prefect world that i’ve dreamed of for years ❤️

Author’s Note:

i hope you all enjoyed reading this Instagram AU! this was one of the first Instagram AUs that i’ve written but i’m proud of the short story that i was able to tell through Instagram posts and comments and thank you to whoever sent this request, it was really fun to come up with the “Cat Daddy” story.

i was going to wait a few more days to post this Instagram AU but because of all the love and support that i’ve received from all the Instagram AUs that i’ve posted so far… i decided to post this Instagram AU a few days earlier than scheduled.

please send me any requests through my inbox that you would have for an Instagram AU whether it’s someone you would like to see as an OC or if it’s a plot-line that i’ll be able to write through IG posts.

thank you for all the love and support! 🤍

#Joe Burrow #NFL #Cincinnati Bengals #LSU Tigers #CFB #Joe Burrow x Reader #Joe Burrow Fanfiction #Joe Burrow Fanfic #Joe Burrow Fic #Joe Burrow x OC #Joe Burrow Instagram #Joe Burrow Instagram AU #NFL Fanfiction #Instagram AU

[looseratinthegarage]

Hiya! I'm happy to hear you have a burst of energy! Its nice to feel energized! Well about an ask. How about the slashers (like any slashers you want but also i would like to see freddy) reacting to an S/O who obsesses over halloween, like is really festive, so they decorate and tries to get them to join in on the readers traditions?

S/o addicted to Halloween

Yeah I was surprised at the sudden burst haha! It feels wonderful, I’ve gotten so much done today! This ask was rly fun tyyy

I got u boo 😘 I put Freddy first

Freddy

•Oh fuck ya. He is very happy with this. Though he’s not known for liking Halloween, he’s all about the spooky season.

•He’s a bit lazy but will help you decorate a little bit. His favorite thing to set up is the window stickers, like, the blood hand kinda stuff?

•He’s down to watch scary movies with you. He loves when you get scared hehehe

•carving pumpkins is fun with him, also incredibly messy. Dude is great at carving, will either make you or something dumb as shit- like a cock or something

•he’ll bake with you, well kinda, he doesn’t really like baking so he’ll sit in the kitchen and watch you. He’ll be making jokes or just talking with you. If you ask him to help you put it in the oven, you’ll get a dirty look. I wonder why… oop- 👀

Michael Rz

•Do I really have to say how he feels about this? Well if I must, he’s happy. He likes that time of year too.

•Carving pumpkinnns! Carves how he perceives his voices aka a scary ass monster face, a pumpkin…?, candy corn, stab wound- he’ll just stab it and be done.

•he’ll be happy to decorate with you. He likes to lift you up so you can hang this up or grab something you need. It makes him feel fuzzy inside to hold you in his arms, he likes it.

•will watch scary movies with you, he really doesn’t get scared, doesn’t even react to a jump scare. But he likes when you cling to him. Also movie snacks! Candy, popcorn, baked goods, you name it!

•Can’t cook nor bake. You are on your own. But like Freddy he will keep you company. Just watch out, he will snatch treats quicker then you can stop him.

•I believe Michaels favorite candy is candy corn just to spite everyone.

Jason

•Oh? Your version of spooky is so cute! Little bats and pumpkins? Aaaahhhhhhh

•It's gonna take a lot of convincing to watch scary movies. He gets scared easily. But he’d like to do other things with you!

•Jason is all about baking. He’s got a huge cookbook filled with his mom's recipes. You two are practically synchronized. He passes you one thing, you take it seamlessly.

•You want to decorate the cabin? Oki doki! He’ll do the high up stuff and you can do the- the more y/n leveled stuff.

•He used to carve pumpkins as a kid with his mom! He’ll make animals or flowers! A heart! The possibilities are endless.

Thomas

•The Hewitts are no stranger to Halloween. But they call it something a little different… All-Hallows Eve is a fun time in the household, if they’re having a good year that is.

•They decorate a little bit. They have set aside decorations, they never make more, it’s wasteful in their eyes. But if you want to make some decorations, Thomas and Luda Mae will bend the rules a little. You’ll get shit from Hoyt tho

•If it’s a good year, bakings a hell yes. Luda has a bunch of yummy passed down recipes.

•It’s kinda heart to carve pumpkins when there’s no pumpkins…. But if they find some you definitely can carve ‘em! Thomas will carve pigs or cows, a flower maybe, or the Hewitt name. Just give the guts to Luda Mae, she’ll make something yummy out of it.

•They- they don’t have a tv. Soooo….. unless you bring one you ain’t gonna be able to watch anything. Thomas is fine watching scary movies with you. It’s not his favorite thing to do, but if you want to he’s down. It kinda puts him in that killing headstate, he’s obviously not going to do anything, he just gets stressed.

Bubba

•Nubbins is a big fan, Drayton hates it, and Bubba gets terrified.

•Like the Hewitts they are very poor, they’re not able to go crazy on decorations, but they have some cool stuff. Their house already looks decorated, with all the bones and stuff.

•They can probably bake! You wouldn’t believe this, but grandpa was quite the baker in his prime, and of course as well as a legend at the meat plant.

•They sometimes get pumpkins so it’s a maybe! Bubba will carve his pet chicken 💗

Yautja

•What are you talking about? A holiday…. Dedicated…. To being scary? Ha! Humans are not scary- WTF IS THAT!- oh it’s a costume…. My bad….

•he’ll question every tradition annoyingly.

•Movies do not scare him, he genuinely laughs most of the time. He’s not trying to be a dick, yautja humor I guess

•Sure he’ll make some sweet food with you! He’ll probably never admit it, but he loves human food. Yautja cuisine is purely to give the body what it needs, nothing more, nothing less. They don’t have any sweet things for the most part. So he loves when you make him unhealthy treats!

•Stab the pumpkin? Why? That’s wasteful. This is why your planet is going to shit- so not the biggest fan of ‘stabbing’ pumpkins. But he’ll humor you like a good mate.

•Why are there small slices of wood on my ship's walls- What purpose do the little paper bats serve? For decoration…. *sigh* okay. The only time he will help you is if your persistent and threaten to do something stupid/dangerous.

#slashers #horror #slasher community #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #thomas hewitt #texas chainsaw massacre #yautja #bubba sawyer #halloween #predator #jason voorhees #friday the 13th #rz michael myers #michael myers #predator x reader #thomas brown hewitt #yautja x reader #alien vs predator #michael myers x reader #rob zombie michael myers #micheal myers #alien vs predator requiem #drayton sawyer #nubbins sawyer