#I know that most of you guys like him eating trash not showering for weeks

[complete-clownery]

Singer Macaque my beloved

#He's singing some edgy ass breakup songs #I know that most of you guys like him eating trash not showering for weeks #but I just wanna see them thrive 🥺 #clown does art #lmk #lego monkey kid #lmk macaque #lmk six eared macaque #six eared macaque #lmk sun wukong

[hxyleswritesthings]

Poly!KiriBaku Headcanons

Author's note: Just some little things on what domestic life is like with these two beefcakes. Enjoy!

- Bakugou and Kirishima are the exact opposite in the morning. More often than not, Kiri sleeps in as late as possible, but he wakes up cheery. Bakugou, on the other hand, is usually the first one up every single morning but he's liability to be around for at least the first hour he's awake.

- You are the classic grumpy morning person. As long as the guys are home, they're usually the ones to wake you up in the morning, and they both know to give you space until you've finished your first cup of coffee.

- As the first one up, Bakugou likes to shower first and make coffee for the three of you before you part ways. If he has the time, he likes to go on a quick morning run/walk and grab pastries from the bakery around the corner.

- On the rare occasion that you do wake up on time, you like to make a quick breakfast for the three of you to eat, packing them both bentos for lunch as well.

- There was one time Kiri walked in to the kitchen, following the smell of breakfast and coffee, only to find you bent over the kitchen counter, practically drooling as Bakugou relentlessly pounds into you, taking out his bad mood. Bakugou just grins at the redhead when he looks up to find him staring, not missing a beat as he reaches around to thumb at your clit until you're begging for release, thighs shaking as you gush on his cock. Bakugou's not far behind, grunting as he pulls your hips back against him to fill you up, grip hard enough to leave bruises. Kirishima just watches the whole thing over his coffee cup, pants feeling tight from where he sits at the dining table.

- You're weak now, Bakugou's arm the only thing keeping you up as he gives you both a moment to breath before he's slipping out of you and pulling his pants back up. head leaning on the table as bakugou keeps you standing, giving you a moment to catch your breath before he's slipping out of you and pulling his pants of his hero suit back up and tucking himself away. He leans down to pull your leggings up as well, silent as he scoops you up and dumps you in a chair next to Kirishima, serving you both a heaping plate of eggs.

- You're a little dazed from the events of the morning, whining as you get placed down before crawling into Kirishima's lap in need of affection.

- The three of you rarely have any serious fights, but due to his temper and your stubbornness it's not unusual for you and Bakugou to bicker. You love each other dearly, but you've been known to butt heads over the smallest things. It rarely ever gets out of hand. Most of the time one of you breaks pretty quickly and you both laugh it off and move on.

- This courtesy does not extend to game night. You and Katsuki are known for full on screaming at each other and making Eiji play referee to whatever the nights chosen game was.

- You never let Katsuki live it down when you absolutely crush him in Mario Kart.

- I hc that as he gets older, Kiri starts growing his hair out more and he looovesss to sit between your legs and let you play with and braid his hair.

- Bakugou's not big on you playing with his hair but sometimes he does let you paint his nails a solid black, claiming it looks good with his hero suit.

- With them being busy pro heros, getting everyone's schedules to align can be difficult, but you make it a goal for all three of you to sit down for dinner together at least once a week. Most of the other nights, it's usually you with either one of them, or you don't even have dinner together at all.

- Bakugou's not much of a partier, so he's usually the DD when y'all go out with your friends. He does enjoy a drink or two on the nights he's not too tired to stay up after work. When you guys host, it becomes Kirishima's personal mission to get him absolutely /trashed/.

- Bakugou becomes VERY clingy when he drinks and he opens up in a way his friends don't usually get to see. You find it quite endearing.

- Before the three of you formally announced your relationship to your group of friends, everyone could tell with how handsy he was with Kiri. Everything finally came to a head once Shoto walked in on them making out in the hallway. He came back, nervous to tell you how he had caught your boyfriend's infidelity, and you couldn't help but burst into laughter when the blonde in question came back into the room, Kiri in tow, both of their faces bright red at being caught.

- It took your friends no time to warm up to the idea, Mina jumping up with a squeal and shouting at how Denki now owed her money from a bet.

- At night, you guy switch between the two bedrooms depending on the mood. Bakugou's bed is bigger, but there's something extra cozy about how many pillows Kiri keeps.

- The three of you are just a bunch of grown up kids who love each other very much and are doing their best to navigate life together :’)

#bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #kirishima fluff #poly!kiribaku #kiribaku x you #kiribaku x y/n #kiribaku x reader #eijirou fluff #katsuki fluff #bakugou smut #mha smut #mha fluff #kirishima smut

[ador3sturniolo]

omg can u write about angst w/ the song drivers license w matt or chris when they broke up w the reader but they end up going back to her place to be like i miss u and either she rejects him on the spot or is like i’ll think about it

“Please?”

An - Ahh!! Thank you for the request! I hope I can do as close to what you wished for!

Paring - Matt sturniolo X Fem!Reader

Summary - Matt breaks up w/ reader

Warnings - angst, Cursing, Mentions of ed, Kissing, NOT PROOFREAD, Hope I didn’t miss anything!

Word count - 1.2k ishhh

“Fuck!” Matt shouted.

“Matt it’s okay, we can work on it.” I spoke up a little scared to hear what comes next.

“I just don’t think we can. I think we need to break up.”

Those were the word you most did not want to hear.

“I just can’t keep having to deal with you.”

I felt a tear drip down my cheek.

“Okay..” I say looking down making my way out his door.

“Just fucking leave!” He shouted throwing up his hands.

“What the fuck do you think I’m doing Matt!?” I say rushing out of there going down to my car. I start my car with a river streaming down my puffy cheeks. I sob as I slowly leave the driveway, checking both ways of the road.

I’m almost home and still crying, my hands are shaky and my vision is blurry, that I pull over on the side of the road to finish crying so I can see clearly. I pull into my driveway, getting out of my car, tiredness filled my eyes as I walked through my house. I don’t even care about changing or taking off my makeup, I just lie down in my bed, falling asleep as soon as I close my eyes.

I couldn’t stop think about Matt the next morning. I didnt eat that entire day, laying in my bed crying all day is all did and wanted to do, and I did that for a couple days, not wanting to leave my bed or do anything.

2 weeks later

I wake up with mascara stains on my pillow case, my hair a mess, and my house dirty. I haven’t eaten in a while, and still no texts or calls from Matt. Chris and Nick text me once in a while to make sure I’m doing okay. I stand up and walk to my kitchen, grabbing a bowl of cereal, sitting down turning on my tv. I see that The sturniolos posted a new video, I click on it to see Matt with a big smile the whole video. It’s not fair that he gets to be all happy while I’m out here, not happy. I finish eating, putting my bowl in the sink and running back to my room to get my headphones and phone. Clicking on my cleaning playlist, I started to clean my house. Washing my clothes and bedding, sweeping my dirty floors, picking up trash just laying around vacuuming my carpets. It was night when I was done, even though my house was clean, I was still upset, think that cleaning would make it better but it didn’t. I lay down in my bed closing my eyes, before getting up to take a shower, which I haven’t done from the past weeks.

I get in the shower letting the water hit my dirty skin. I turn off the lights in my bathroom so I’m showering in the dark. I couldn’t tell if it was the water or that I started crying. I cry as I wash my hair and body. I get out the shower, clean. Looking at myself in the mirror, my eyes all red and puffy.

“Get your fucking life together” I tell myself in the mirror. I do my skin care and get into a clean pair of pjs. I cute up some watermelon and get a glass of water, and take a picture and posting it on my instagram story. Healing 🤍 I title it, letting people know I’m okay.

2 more weeks later

I decide to be a little crazy and put myself on tinder. I set up my account and go to bed right after thinking nothing of it.

I wake up to a couple guys that liked me, they were cute too! I messaged back one of the guys. We get a conversation going and he wants to take me out to dinner tonight. I smile bright at my phone and a get up and start to get ready for our date. I play my favorite songs as i get ready. I start to think to myself how I’m happy now then I was before.

I put on my favorite red dress that highlights all my curves and black heels. I looks at my phone to see that he texted me saying he was here. I walk out my door and get in his car.

Matts POV :

“It’s been a little over a month since I broke up with her..” I spoke up to Chris.

“Do you think she’s doing okay?” I ask Chris. He nods.

“She is. I still text her. She has a date tonight, so I think she’s moved on.” Chris states.

I was in a state of shock. There’s no way she could have gotten over me that quickly. I get up off the couch and head to my room. I’ve been pretty miserable without her these past couple of days, I thought I was fine. I want her back. She still has to have some feelings, right?

Reader POV :

“It’s now been two months from the first date I went on with him. He’s such a nice guy and we have so much in common. We’ve been on more dates and I have another one with him tonight.” I write in my diary before I get up to get ready.

After the date

“Thank you for tonight.” I say as pulls up to my house.

“No problem pretty.” He says as he pulls me in for a kiss.

Making out for at least two minutes, I pull back.

“Did I do something wrong?” He spoke up

“No, just think we can save this for another time” I wink as I step out of the car.

We wave at each other as he drives off. I walk up my driveway, smiling as I look down at my feet. I bump into a body as I look up.

“Matt? What are you doing here? Are you okay? It looks like you’ve been crying” I say concerned look up at him.

“I miss you. I’ve been so miserable without you. I need you back in my life, I want you as mine again.” He said through sniffles.

“Matt..” I hesitated

“Please?” He said looking down at me begging.

“fuck” I whisper

“Im so sorry to do you like this when your in this state, but no. Im sorry but Ive moved on okay? I think it’s time for you to aswell. We need to meet different people. I know we had a past together but I don’t want to continue it. We can still be friends?” I said making eye contact with him, cupping his cheeks.

I could tell he wanted to cry so I pulled him in for a hug.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper as he wraps his arms around my waist and cry’s.

“Did you walk here?”

He nods as he wipes his nose.

“Okay I’ll drive you home, just let me go get my keys” I say as I rush inside for my keys and walk back out to him.

The ride was silent the whole way.

“Okay we’re here, do you want me to walk you in?” He shakes his head no. “Okay then. Matt?”

“Hm?” He says turning towards me.

“Just know you can talk to me about anything, you can text or call me, we can hangout, whatever you want, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you, I’ll see you later.” He says as he walks away.

I smile at him as I drove off. I take a deep breath as I pull into my driveway. I go inside and get unready from my day and go to bed.

I’m being woke up by my phone ringing. It’s Matt. I pick up.

“Matt?”

—————————————————————

An - Hi guys! Thank you guys for the support on my last story! I hope this one is just as good as my other one! Sorry if it’s not sad enough, for y’all : ( I love reading it, but I’m not the best at writing it so bare with me 🤍

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo edit #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #angst #tinder

[emilio-the-dumb-wrestler]

The wishing well redux part 2

Eric woke up sweating like a pig in the hot trailer room. BO pouring off him and making the whole film smell like an filthy animal. It had been a week since he was given the chance to make a wish. And a week that he had taken To get used to feeling the love and attention of his father that he so desperately wanted. He just didn’t realize that the wish would change everything. His father had to cater to him now for most stuff. He was in special classes on up till high when he dropped out from just not being smart enough. At least in this reality. He was no longer the smart college guy he once was but now someone that struggled to read simple sentences. His father had told him that it was alright. He knew when Eric was young that Eric was special and there was nothing wrong with that. It made Eric feel so proud. He heard his father call him from the kitchen with the usual “come on big guy I got breakfast cooked !” He loved getting to eat with his father every morning. It was one of his favorite times of the day.

Eric got some boxers from the dirty pile of clothing and piled them as he could feel them stretch and struggle to cover to his massive bulky thigh and butt. He still had on some of his dirty socks from the day before. He found a pair of his dirty work pants and pulled them up. The dirty tight sleeveless shirt his father gave him earlier in the week finished his dumb dirty trailer trash look. He thundered to the kitchen. Everything shaking in his path. He was no longer graceful. Not walking like a big fun. Animal as the curse made him. When he got to the kitchen his father was smoking and smiled at him. “Eat up big guy we have to get to work !” Eric began to eat his breakfast shoveling the food his father made him into his bearded face. Taking swigs of his beer every to often. That’s when he heard it. Some pebbles hitting the window. He looked out and he seen the guys that lived around them tossing rocks at the window and pointing at laughing at him. He had traded friendship for the love of his father. And these guys picked on him a lot. Calling his names like the big dumb brute. Gorilla. Anything they could thing of. His father slammed his hand down on the table and jolted out the door. The men ran but his father got the leader of them. A college boy that Eric used to be friends with. He heard his father screaming at him as he picked up up from his feet but the collar of his shirt. The guy laughed at him until he heard the boy bagging. He looked at out the window and seen his father was thrusting his thick cock into the 21 years old mouth. “You make fun of my boy again and I really stretch your hole !” His father thrust harder and harder right there on the front yard for all the other college guys to see. Making an example of the one he caught. And with a light grunt his father unloaded in the mouth shooting an extra thick load down his stomach. When he pulled out more cum shot on the mans face. His father dripped up and he pointed at the others. “I’ll do that to all of you if you mess with my boy again!” Taking s big boot foot he kicked the man over who was gagging over what just happened. His father came back to the trailer and slammed the am door. “You ok big guy ? They won’t be messing you anymore”.

Eric got into the work truck and was happy to be along for the ride. That cabin of the truck stunk worse than normal. “Big guy have you been forgetting to shower ?” His dad laughed and gave him a playful jab in the arbs. Eric dumbly laughed and said “ughh daddy I don’t know”. It seemed that Eric was giving up more and more of himself just to be happy and feel loved. He fell asleep in the truck on his way to the dumb for trash picking with his dad. In his dream he was back in the same forest. Dark. Only this time he didn’t have to walk. He was sucked directly to the well floating above the ground. And when he got there the same shadow monster was there. In a raspy whisper “choose now boy. The life of intelligence and wealth or the life of poor and stupid . You’ve felt what it like living the life of your wish. Now choose ! Which will you live the rest of your life as ?” There was a mirror in front of him. Showing him the body of the burly man he had become. Just looking at him dumbly. He looked down at himself and he was his old self. He could even feel the clouds fog lifted from his head. The first time he had been able to actually think since his first wish was made. He kept looking at the mirror. And then back down at himself. He looked at the shadow monster and said “I’ve made my decision …”

Grieves was a simple man who only ever wanted one thing. A family. His wife had passed away years before and left him alone to his mansion and fortune. But he was lonely. He had seen a show the other morning with a man on his front yard. Claiming a college jock as his own. Grieves sought the man out. And hired him to come work for him. The only catch was the big dumb son he catered to hand and literal foot. When he seen the white truck pull into his parking lot he smiled. Seeing such big men get out of the truck. He knew this next chapter in his life was going to be fun. Wishes really did come true. He knew this when he seen one of the men. Obviously dumber than dumb get out and stretch his massive body. Eric has made his wish. And he would for ever now be a dumb hairy day laborer. But he would be loved.

April 18th, 2021 4:45pm wishing well

[raythekiller]

Hi, I've been reading your works and I'm envious. Your scenarios and headcanons are so cool :D I was wondering if you could make a headcanon for the creeps living with a Latina recruit who is sassy but caring to the point she (or they) will aggressively take care of someone if they aren't feeling well. Hope it isn't too much out of your comfort zone. Have a good day and take care

<3333

🗒 ❛ Sassy But Caring Latinx! Reader ༉‧₊˚✧

Featuring: Jeff The Killer, Ben Drowned, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack, Masky

#Notes: as a dad friend sassy latino myself this one was right up my alley ty

pronouns used: none

˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Jeff The Killer

You definitely give him a lot of shit. When you first arrive he's all cocky thinking he has a new victim, but then as soon as you opened your mouth, boom, he got dragged. Since he's quite the troublemaker, you'll probably be screaming at him a lot.

"¡Jeff! ¿Que chingado estás hacendo?"

"Slender, the new recruit is speaking tongues again!"

Secretly thinks it's kinda hot when you speak Spanish. The rolling r's just do something to him. While he's absolutely not gonna try to learn it, he ends up picking up a thing or two just from hearing you and the context of the situation. Can't speak it to save his life, though. Still, he makes fun of your language all the time.

"What, you forgot English already?"

Also, he's like, terrible with self care. Not as bad as Ben, but still pretty bad. Doesn't shower for days and hates drinking water. You'll have to threaten him with a chancla to get him to actually take some care of himself.

"¡Jeffrey Woods, chingada madre, limpia tu habitación!"

"You can't fucking make me!"

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ben Drowned

Little mister Hasn't Showered, Slept Or Eaten In A Week over here. I swear, this guy is helpless. Spends all his time cupped up in his room playing videogames and eating nothings but trash like some kind of fucking raccoon. You'll have the hardest time trying to take care of him.

"Ben, how long has it been since the last time you showered?"

"Uhmm... I don't know, about 9 days?"

" *sighs in spanish* "

Genuinely terrified of you when you get mad and start cussing in Spanish. He'll clean his room, he promises, just please put the chancla down!

Will actually be really happy if you make him Hispanic food. Not only does it taste good, but you made it for him because you care about him, and that means the world. He can't handle spicy stuff though, so be careful.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ticci Toby

Not too bad in general when it comes to taking care of himself, but he does just... Forget to eat. All the time. He will just suddenly get light headed and remember he hasn't eaten a bite of food in the last 3-4 days. Another one who loves if you make him Hispanic food, but unlike Ben, he likes his shit extra spicy. Probably one of the only creeps who will try to learn Spanish to understand you better, even if you're fluent in English.

"H-hola, Y/N. Como- como estás?"

"Estoy bien, pero no necessitas hablar conmigo en español, chulo."

Yes, you call him "chulo". He will also listen to the music and just try to learn more of the culture in general to make you feel more welcome. Overall, genuinely puts in an effort in taking better care of himself so you don't have to worry about him as much.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Eyeless Jack

I'd be surprised if he didn't know Spanish already, which was probably a bit of a shock to you, but a good one nonetheless. He's not normally into gossip, but there's something extremely funny about talking shit about someone while they're right there and they have no idea what you're saying.

"Jeff es tan jodidamente estúpido."

"Sí, ¿verdad?"

"The FUCK you two talkin about?"

You won't have to worry about him much, he takes basic care of himself unlike most of the others. If anything, he's scolding rhe others WITH you. You're basically the parents of everyone else at this point.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Masky

Has the biggest fucking crush on you and will forever be mad about it. I said this in the ideal S/O post - he needs someone who gives him shit but also looks out for him and the others. The fact that latino people are extra hot is just a bonus. Unfortunately, this also means he's extra mean to you.

"Tienes que dejar de fumar. Te va a joder los pulmones así."

"Sorry, doll, I don't speak 'freak'."

Like Jeff, secretly thinks it's hot when you speak in your language. Hates when you scold him, loves it when you scold others, especially if you get extra mad and start cussing in Spanish. It's just amusing to him. Plus, you make things easier for him now that he's not the only one parenting these weirdos and he's genuinely glad you came along.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta x reader #ray.writes #jeff the killer #ben drowned #ticci toby x reader #eyeless jack #ticci toby #jeff the killer x reader #ben drowned x reader #eyeless jack x reader

[cornerstoreclown]

Laundry Day

Summary: This is a short one-shot (2830 words, approx.) where the Reader (Gender Neutral) has an undomesticated killer clown stopping by infrequently to use their shower and get his clothes cleaned. Some light domesticity, which is quite a feat, given this wild guy!

Trigger warnings: None this time, unless you really don’t like laundry, which is understandable. 

Author’s notes:  This was absolutely the first thing I wrote on a whim while trying to find my feel for Art. It feels very much like a toddler trying to learn to walk, so bear with me. Likes and reblogs are appreciated! It would be nice to know I’m not just filling up an empty room with no one in it. I hope to do some NSFW soon! 

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

Art was kind of hard to pin down. For anyone to really pin down, honestly. Those that knew him feared him, except you.

You can’t remember the exact date, but it was last year in October, and it was in the final week of the month, you think. That’s when you met him–that strange black and white clown who didn’t utter a single word. He was dressed up walking around the streets with a giant black trash bag slung over his shoulder. It was hard to miss him–he was covered head to toe in gore and dirt and mud. Poor thing looked miserable, and the wet flopping sounds of his shoes as he walked sounded a little uncomfortable. 

Very clearly you can recall when he laid his eyes on you, and the way that he looked like he wanted to tear you apart, limb from limb. He approached you, and you hadn’t moved. Even when he stood a few mere inches away from you, then made the choice to jump at you to try and see if you flinched, nothing. That made him curious. Why didn’t you react? Most shrieked in horror or resorted to slinging insults. 

“I… Have a washer and dryer back at my place. You wanna use it?” You asked him. 

It was that single question that changed the trajectory of your entire life. 

 You didn’t have an ounce of self-preservation in your body that night, and to this day, you still don’t. Some things didn’t change. 

Pan over to present time, months upon months later, where you’re in the same spot as you were the night that he took you up on that offer, sitting on a tiny stool in the laundry room with some clothes you were folding to put into the basket in front of you, spacing out until you hear the sounds of someone approaching. The bare footsteps are ones that you recognize, and you’re confirmed in your suspicions when you see him wearing nothing but a cotton white towel and his standard makeup. It was a little weird seeing him out of his outfit at first, but you’re used to it by now, and so is he, at you seeing him like this. 

Evil was taking up residence in the vessel of a fleshy body that donned black and white. At first you wondered if he was human, but the longer you both spent together, you soon came to realize that he was something supernatural, and the more knowledge you had, the more questions it gave you. Why of all people, did he let YOU live? What did he see in you? 

Art could have killed you. You knew this, and he knew this. It was a mutual understanding, but where else could a notorious killer have a place to hide, rest, have laundry done, take a shower, and eat all in one place without a care? You didn’t get in his way, and while you weren’t necessarily a murderer, you were at the very least complicit by giving the stray and feral clown a sort-of-but-not-really home. 

“Hey, buddy! You look great.” You flash him a smile. “Feel better after the shower?” You’re never short of amazed at how he manages to keep his makeup so pristine. It always seemed to be in a flawless condition, even when he was looking rough. 

Art takes a few seconds, raises his hands out wide to his sides to express how refreshed and brand new he feels, then drops them, giving an enthusiastic nod, eyes closed as he shows an even wider smile. You can see the flash of his teeth that look like they haven’t been brushed for at least... a while. He then brings his hands up to the front of him and gives a gentle clap, interlacing his fingers thereafter. The clown then gives you a few hopeful blinks and an innocently pleading look with a tilt of his head, looking at you, and then the washer and dryer. 

“Oh, no,” You laugh. “It’s not ready yet. Still isn’t done with the wash cycle. You got your clothes really bloody, Art.”

And just like that, the puppydog-like eyes Art has been giving you disappear as he scoffs silently and impatiently. The clown’s arms go to fold across his chest. 

“How many people did you kill exactly to get it that messy, Art?”

He gives a shrug and a turn of his head, as if asking for you to guess. 

“Two?” 

He gives you a ‘more’ gesture, hand held out and fingers wiggling which would otherwise look like he was telling you to come closer. 

“Three?”

He’s still indicating for you to keep going. 

“Four? Five?”

He raises his hand and tells you to stop, raising his finger. 

“Five?” 

A shake of his head no. 

“Four, then.” 

He points at you. You genius, you! You got it right! He’s smiling now again, clearly proud. He even gently claps for you. 

“Yeah, that makes sense.” You answer. You’re not really feeling one way or another about it. The initial shock has kind of worn off. You stare down at the clothes in your lap briefly when you see Art staring down at the basket. 

“Yeah. I’m doing my own laundry. Folding it is a little bit of a pain, but I’m almost done.” And it’s true, you were very meticulous with folding. Normally you’d just have your clothes in the basket and unfolded, but you were trying to be a little more diligent instead of just fishing out what you washed the week before and putting it on. You’ve been struggling a little doing it, too.

The clown begins to approach you, and is rather leisurely at that. He’s relaxed and in his element here, familiar with the environment. 

Familiar with you. 

That makes your heart flutter a little, your mind in a daze that’s short lived, because Art is now close enough to you that you have to give him your full attention. Sometimes you still wonder if each time he visits will be the last time, and that one day he gives into that irresistible longing which ends with him pulling your intestines out of your lower abdomen like he were performing one of those endless magic scarf tricks. He’s thought about it, and while he hasn’t told you, you know. Maybe it’s a kind of unexplained psychic link that you swear you have with him nowadays, or maybe it’s just the simple fact that at the end of the day, he is what he is at his core–a predator. And you’re just prey. 

You tense up a little when he leans down in front of the basket of folded clothes, and you watch him come close. 

“Oh, you want to.. Help me fold clothes?” 

He doesn’t answer, instead lifting up the laundry basket in front of you, and before it fully registers in your head what he’s doing, it’s already too late.

“Hey–No, no, Art, don’t–!”

Almost thirty minutes of folding, spilling right on top of you as you were about to stand up and try to stop him. Piece after piece of clothing falls on you, around you, and all around at your feet from where you’re sitting. You even see him pretend as if it was all by accident, looking shocked, even as he tosses the laundry basket off to the side where the plastic container hits the wall and clatters to the floor. He likes to be funny sometimes, but other times, it’s like he’s testing you. 

Your heart rate immediately speeds up and your muscles tense as frustration makes your blood simmer. But it dies just as quickly as it rises, a flame snuffed out as he watches for your reaction, as if wanting to see if you’d let your anger get the best of you. As if that’d give him incentive to strangle you with one of your own sweatshirts, should things go south. 

He was a jokester at heart, and that was part of who he was. Often when he was here, he’d ruin something because he’d think it was funny, or he’d just be generally chaotic and straight up unhinged. One time a few dishes were broken, then one day he brought home a half chewed on rabbit you think he caught, a few months ago he took your entire collection of knives that you used for cooking, no doubt to stab and murder someone with. You remember that he took all your razors from your bathroom too. Another time, he took your toaster? Literally just walked out of the house with it in that Mary Poppins black trash bag of his. What was yours was also his when he came to visit, and at the end of the day, you know it was better that he fucked with the things in your house instead of you. In this instance, it was something less offensive than destruction or theft–he just foiled your attempt at trying to be a little better with your clothes. 

Instead, you just sigh, and look up at him. He’s tilted his head back, mouth open wide, eyes closed, pointing at you, silently laughing hysterically. You just know that if he had a voice, it would be bouncing off the walls right now.

Your lips thin out into a small line, lifting upwards into a faint but tired smile. Art was always a reminder to you to maybe not take things so seriously… After all, you might not wake up tomorrow. 

“Funny.” You give a soft chuckle. Art is now slapping his knees as he’s leaned forward, still pointing at you. He’s got some audacity, you think, standing there in nothing but a towel, but you just shake your head and keep your smile present. You’re not going to go back to trying to refold the clothes. So much for trying, you’re just going to shove them haphazardly in your basket and put it on your bedroom floor and keep pulling from it until there’s practically nothing left. Fuck that. You tried, and therefore no one could criticize you. 

A hand with wiggling fingers is out in front of your face suddenly, and when you glance up, Art is now looking down at you. You take his hand with no hesitation, knowing that if you only rejected him, he’d keep putting his hand in your face until you listened. When you take hold of it, his grip is tight. Tight to the point where it’s almost painful. He yanks you up to your feet out of the pile of clothes and you have no choice but to glance up at him. He’s taller than you, standing at what you guess is a little over six feet tall. Being so close to him always manages to take your breath away at some point. 

“Thanks, Art.” 

He gives you a pat on the shoulder, then grips it firmly to where it hurts a little, and gives you a few gentle shakes before letting you go. It’s a little jarring, but you’re fine with it. You still keep your expression pleasant, and had your hand rested overtop of his until he decided to let go. You give a few laughs. 

“Hey, I didn’t get the chance to ask you right away when you came in, but where is your friend? Is she okay?” 

The little girl.

Sometimes she was here, sometimes she wasn’t. She left messes of her own in your house, and they were often unsavory ones that you weren’t sure what they were, and you didn’t like dwelling on them. Liquids, mysterious chunks of sticky substance, among other things. Art however, thought she was a high class comedian, and so you went with it. She meant well in her own way, you suppose. But like all children, she had a habit of getting into things she didn’t need to be in. It was just another level of stress for you, so as much as it’s a relief that she’s not here right now, you still can’t help but worry a little. That was Art’s friend. She brought him joy. And what made Art happy was good. 

The clown’s demeanor shifts a little at that, to which he stares at you for a few seconds before once again asking for your hand, to which you give him it. This time, the grip is much tighter than the one he used to pull you up with. This is the same kind of grip that you just know was amplified even further to rip open torsos and rip faces clean off to the bone. You feel fortunate that he’s shown restraint, and that he cares enough for you to deliberately not want to hurt you. He leads you from the laundry room to the next room over–the living room. Your living room. 

The living room is pretty plain and standard, the main attraction being the couch, coffee table, and what he’s gesturing towards in front of both of those things–the flat screen. 

“Oh, the television! Yeah, of course.”

He sits you down on the couch first, before seating himself. He reaches for the remote on the table and surfs the channels until it lands on the news, displaying the show of a cleaned up scene of the crime stained with blood out on a neighborhood street from what you recognize is the next county over. 

LOVING FAMILY MAN FOUND DEAD OUTSIDE OF ESTATE, the headlines read, before going on about how a man was found outside of his home, arms chewed on and with a few pens jammed through his eyes straight into his skull. Following the details, there’s the show of a single tiny hat, one that you immediately recognize that would have a pigtail jutting out of it. 

So, that’s where she was. Did anyone actually see her? Could she only kill people that could see her? There was no sketch provided, nor is it seeming as if there's any sense of awareness as to who the hat belonged to in the news report. You knew that she was selectively visible to certain people, but what determined that? Art can’t help but silently laugh and point at the screen, going so far as to reach out over to you to show you the answer to your question, and most certainly for you to also appreciate his friend’s handiwork. You laugh out of politeness, though you’re not really feeling one way or the other about it. Your head is swirling with questions as you try to figure out the logistics of the case. Was that actually her hat? 

Just as soon as the news of the murder was on the television, it moved on. Local news tended to not dwell on topics for too long. They had a list of updates to go through and a short time to allot for it. 

“Stay tuned for the upcoming documentary on the infamous terror on the streets every October–The Miles County Clown. We suspect he’s back. More at eight.” The news reporter says. 

Art enthusiastically points at the television while looking at you, and you give him a nod of acknowledgement. 

“Glad you’re getting the attention you deserve.” You tell him, and he gives you an incline of his head and a smile, before showing how pleased he is with the chef's kiss gesture. You actually do genuinely laugh at that. His body language was always… Charming. 

Advertisements start playing and there’s just the weather and now national news up next until eight. During that time, Art reaches behind you and puts his arm on the top back part of the couch. While it’s not over your shoulder, you still feel enveloped by him all the same as you sit crisscross applesauce next to him, fiddling absentmindedly with your hair, fingernails, anything to keep you stimulated as the news prattles on. 

It was kind of nice. The intimacy and domesticity–if you could even call it that–which the two of you shared was a special one. You’ve seen him exposed like this, and he’s seen you dressed down in a similar fashion before. Neither of you thought much of it, but you at least would find your gaze wandering, and you’ve seen him do the same a few times in turn. The chemistry is undeniable. There’s something there. 

It was going to be maybe another thirty minutes until Art’s clothes are done in the wash and need to be moved over into the dryer. Just in enough time for the documentary on the Miles County Clown, who was right next to you. You start to feel a little tired, fatigue taking over you as you begin to, against your better judgment most certainly, lean against him a little to doze off briefly. 

And he lets you. 

The Miles County Clown has his hand on your back now, giving it a few gentle yet firm rubs before returning his arm on the top of the back cushion of the couch, intently watching the television. He might not be mortal, but you are, and he seems to understand that. 

Those thirty minutes of rest are going to come in handy for the level of attention you’ll need to give him when you wake up.

#terrifier 2 #art the clown #art the clown x reader #art the clown x you #terrifier #slasher x you #coulrophilia #minors dni #horror #slasher x reader #canon x reader

[vkooksupremacy]

You Matter to Me Ch 4

Completed Series

A clash of schedules

"I know it's hard for you to go without seeing him." Chan said sympathetically. "Just another few weeks, okay?"

"Yes, thank you Hyung." The only thing that worried Y/N wasn't Jisung breaking up with him. It was that Yunna had gotten out without any charges. And she would most definitely try to break up him and Jisung.

"You better go to bed." Chan said. "We have to get up early tomorrow."

After showering, when he was lying in bed, Y/N pulled up his text with Jisung.

:Hi Sungie, I'm sorry I couldn't text you yesterday, how are you? :((

Noo, don't be sorry babyyy :

: I can't help it, I feel guilty

Incoming call from Jisung

Y/N sighed and picked up the call.

"Hi, Sungie."

"Yah, we both know it's no one's fault we can't meet up or text periodically." Jisung said. "It's not your fault okay, two more weeks."

"Okay."

"I love you okay? I have to go eat dinner now, bye!"

"Bye Sungie!" Y/N hung up, a smile etched don his face. Hearing Jisungs voice after a while week woke him up.

He still missed Jisung, but the blow was lessened. Be could feel Jisung rooting for him through his texts. Y/N eventually fell asleep, a content smile on his face, only to be woken up eight hours later.

"Get up sleepyhead." Minho siad. "It's 6am already."

Y/N groaned and went to shower, seeing Jeongin come out of their shared room bathroom.

"Don't bother trying to use the dustbin." Jeongin called. "Just use the trash bag on the floor. Dustbins broken."

"Hey Y/N! I think you'll like what I have to say!" Chan said at the breakfast table. "We have a collaboration with NCT 2023."

"Really?" Y/N looked up so fast he swore he pulled a muscle.

"I'm serious."

"Great! But.. there'll be twenty of them, including Ji."

"Aww, you have a nickname for him." Seungmin teased. "Ji. That's cute."

"Shut up." A blush formed on Y/N's cheeks.

Y/N was excited to see Jisung for the first time in three weeks. Nobody had told either of the groups about the collaboration.

As they reached the venue, Y/N could see through the car doors, Jisung. Bouncing on his feet as he talked to his members. Y/N got out of the car and called his name.

"Jisungie!"

"Y/N!" Jisung ran over and enveloped him in a hug, and both their cheeks were red when they pulled back.

"Is this your boyfriend?" Han asked, coming over. "Hi, I'm Han Jisung."

"N-nice to meet you." Jisung said.

"You guys have the same name." Y/N giggled. "Hannie Hyung even asked me why I needed another Jisung."

"I'll let you two catch up." Han said, walking off and winking. Jisung turned back to Y/N.

"I missed you." He said shyly. Y/N blushed, unconsciously slipping his hand into Jisung's.

"I missed you too. Should we go inside?" Jisung hummed in agreement, and they took off.

Taeyong and Chan watched them, shaking their heads.

Young love. It was euphoric. And this, this would last.

#nct x male reader #kpop x male reader #jisung x male reader #nct dream x male reader #stray kids x male reader #jaemin #nct x reader #nct jisung x reader #nct jisung x male reader

[paleclementine]

Happy Halloween! It feels like October 2nd was just yesterday. This month went by crazy fast. Today I am dressed up as Joe from Bladerunner 2049, which basically is just a long black coat, brown pants, boots, and that bandage he wears during the "you look lonely, I can fix that" scene. I really like it. Idk it makes me feel sooo like, cool. Like my internal is now external. I really do feel like that movie and it's nice to listen to that kind of music and walk around with a "bloody" bandage on my nose and have my coat flare out behind me in the creeping winter cold.

I didn't manage to write my Shakespeare essay but that's okay because he extended the deadline. For some fuckin reason. I have to get that done by Thursday. So I'm not doing it today, and probably not tomorrow. Most likely the day of. Because that's how I roll. Oh and I;m in British writers class (obviously) HOLY FUCK how many fucking times can the people in my class reference Jane Eyre in one day?? it's literally not in the curriculum people are just teacher's pets. and freaks. Um anyway, I lost my train of thought lmao. But on another note As I was walking through campus I noticed literally NO ONE was dressed up until you got closer to the English building. lmao. Someone as their OC (probably), someone as Kobeni, someone as scarlet witch. And a really ugly guy in my class dressed as Dazai who looks more like an extreeeemely hungover and ugly version of him. Very sloppy. Do not approve.

I posted a new chapter of my fanfic which yayyy but I haven't gotten as many projected hits as I thought or a single comment which is odd because there's always one user who comments very enthusiastically. Eh, whatever. People have shit going on. ANd no one is going to be reading fanfic near Halloween. Other than me, of course, bc I am reading a longfic about Avatar bc Anthony got me back into it.

So anyway. This weekend. Me and Anthony went to SLC and stayed at Amy's. We ate ramen and hung out at Amy's house Thursday. It was really pleasant :) Friday we... uhhh I don't think we did much until we went to the FNAF movie. I could write a whole dissertation about how much I hated that movie, but all that to say, it was a huge let down. And no Markiplier! Sat we hung out with Amy and went to "witchfest" which was really fun and more like a farmer's market than a hallloweeen festival but still fun. Sorry for typos I'm being quiet. After that we got hotpot which was BUSSS. I'm getting better at talking to Amy but I'm not sure why. Sunday we literally did nothing but watch IT and eat In N Out. We got burritos and left yesterday.

Yesterday. Oh boy, yesterday. I walked into my apartment to go into my room and got stopped at the door by Priya, who gave me that -kayla-english-madeline-hubbart STARE and said

"HAnnah! We haven't seen you in so long!" "oh! I've been gone all weekend. HAhaha. For halloweekend. Hhaha." "ohhhh did you go to the parties down there?" "*scoffs for some reason* no, haha, not at all." "You should hang out sometime!" "okay :)" "no seriously, you should hangout sometime." "I want to!" "Okay!" "Okay!" which, okay, I can see what you're thinking. Hannah, she was being so nice and inviting you to hang out with them! You don't know how girls work. She said it like a threat, or at least it felt like one.

Anyway, I go into my room, tidy it a little, check to see if I can do my laundry (for the first fucking time in three weeks. It''s full). Take out my room trash. Shower. All the while, hearing them in the living room. I want to document what Jimena said because I seriously think she is the least self-aware, miserable person I fucking know. "People always think I'm bisexual. But Im straight. Straight latinaaaaa! but when I'm drunk, I'll seriously make out with anyone. Even girls." like. holy fuck. How does she not realize how actually fucking (and I don't use this work lightly) RETARDED she sounds. Also, Stephen got a girlfriend (fatJay, who is not fat at all and Jimena is a cunt for calling her that) and Jimena bought mini pickles and said "hey guys! this is how big Stephen's penis is!" Yeah okay bitch who led him on and was a completely fucking mess----- okay, ranting about her is cathartic but pissing me off. So basically, they were really annoying and sang star spangled banner at the top of their lungs on a karaoke machine from Five Below and burped like Hailey does, so I pledged not to come out of my room until everyone had gone to bed. Which would have been fine.

If not for the migraine.

Always the fucking migraine. I holed myself away in actual anguish, waiting for them to go to bed, all the while watching depressive tiktoks (I redownloaded it) of landscapes with Silent Hill audios n shit. and I can't express how much I was suffering and for how long. My suffering and my migraine were what I remember most about the night, despite the details I shared about my roommates. everyone went to bed at 3am. I darted out to get some water. And my chickpeas. Anthony came over and brought my leftover burrito. I broke down in his arms. I seriously felt like i had knives on the right side of my face. He tucked me in and I fell asleep. At 5:30 am. Had a dream where someone was drilling peoples faces and realized it was my rommates with the blender and woke up 15 minutes before my alarm at 11:15. Got dressed. Blade runner. Went to class.

well, that was depressing. *zooms in camera like a millennial*

On a lighter note, today is me and Anthony's second anniversary. I have no Idea what we're going to do for that tomorrow or for Halloween today, but I really like being blade runner. It's fun. I want to make a tiktok of me in the mountains and post it later.

I'm so glad I met Anthony. I love him more than I can express. I want to write about him later. I will.

Later.

#livejournal

[mlcheely]

It's Just A Game... CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. ☆

⸺ . ⋆ ☆ ⋆ . ⸺

Report from U.B.C.S. member

DATE: August 5, 1998.

 The biohazard incident that occurred on May 11th at Lord Oswell Spencer’s mansion and biochemical laboratory ended on July 25th when members of the S.T.A.R.S. teams destroyed the entire facility. All BOWs have been disposed of, and the total casualties are:

20 Civilians

78 Umbrella staff and employees

24 Human test subjects

 As of 8/5/98, there are no signs of viral leakage in the surrounding area. However, we must continue to monitor the area with extreme caution. 

 Our secret operative, Albert Wesker, is M.I.A. and presumed dead. We have just received information that Jill Valentine and Chris Redfield are preparing to report the incident to the press and their police chief.

I request that this matter is addressed with the utmost urgency.

⋆

DATE : ┃AUGUST 7TH, 1998. LOCATION : ┃JILL’S DIARY.

⸺ . ⋆ ☆ ⋆ . ⸺

 About two weeks have passed since that day. My physical wounds have healed, but it seems the ones in my heart haven’t. For most people, it’s history now; but for me, whenever I close my eyes I experience it all over again. Why do I keep seeing zombies eating flesh? Why do I keep hearing the screams of my dying teammates?

 What horrors did Erica go through? What did she see? What did she hear? I still think about her sometimes…

⋆

DATE : ┃AUGUST 8TH, 1998. LOCATION : ┃CHRIS’S JOURNAL.

⸺ . ⋆ ☆ ⋆ . ⸺

 I talked to the Chief today and yet again he wouldn’t listen to me. I’m beginning to suspect that he’s covering for Umbrella, but I don’t have anything concrete to support this. However, I know without a doubt Umbrella conducted research on the T-Virus in the Spencer mansion — but the entire mansion went up in flames in that explosion; along with any incriminating evidence. All I have is the picture of Erica I found…

 I’m positive Umbrella is keeping her somewhere in one of their facilities, but I don’t know for sure. Since so many people in this town are employees at Umbrella’s chemical plant, no one is willing to talk about the incident. I’m running out of options…

 Where are you, Erica?

⋆

DATE : ┃AUGUST 13TH, 1998. LOCATION : ┃JILL’S DIARY.

⸺ . ⋆ ☆ ⋆ . ⸺

 Chris has been causing a lot of trouble at work lately. What’s up with him? He barely ever talks to the other officers and is constantly irritated. Just the other day he got into an altercation with another officer, which resulted in Chris giving the officer a black eye. I immediately stopped Chris from pummeling the poor guy any further, but when he saw me he just gave me a wink and walked away like nothing happened.

 What did he experience in that mansion?

 I worry about him…

⋆

DATE : ┃AUGUST 15TH, 1998. LOCATION : ┃ CHRIS’S APARTMENT. TIME : ┃12:46 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ☆ ⋆ . ⸺

 Jill looks up at Chris’s apartment door with a frown. Just before she got here, he called and asked her to come over with urgency, eager to tell her about some information he found. The sound of Chris’s voice seemed… off , so she sped over to his apartment building to find out what’s wrong. Chris went on temporary leave a couple of days ago, using the excuse that he was “planning a vacation.” Jill hasn’t seen him since — until now.

 She reaches up and quietly knocks on the door, and on the other side of the door she hears the sound of shuffling before she places the distinct turn of a deadbolt. Upon seeing him, Jill’s mouth forms a straight smile. ‘He doesn’t look too good.’ She thinks. 

 Chris’s hair is messy, he hasn’t shaved, and he looks like he hasn’t showered since she last saw him.

 “Jill, thanks for coming.” He smiles weakly. “Of course.” Chris opens up the door to allow her inside. “I just so happened to be awake when you called.” She says as he closes the door behind her. “What is it that you wanted to show me?” Jill’s eyes meet the apartment’s scenery and she has to stop herself from frowning. Trash, clothes, pizza boxes, beer cans, documents and papers alike cover the apartment, but she turns and focuses her attention on Chris instead. She can help him clean later.

 Chris holds up a finger to her before rushing to find a document from his coffee table in the living room. “I found something — ” He says, stepping over to her and handing it to her. “ — It’s called the G-Virus. It’s supposed to be a new and more powerful strain than the T-Virus.”

 Jill reads it over with a look of concern. G-Virus? A new and more powerful strain of the T-Virus? As if the T-Virus wasn’t bad enough, who knows what kind of destruction this G-Virus could do? She knits her brows together, “Where did you hear about this?”

 “I did a stakeout last night near the chemical plant; Umbrella’s employees sure do talk a lot more than the company thinks they do.”

 Jill watches Chris as he sporadically sifts through scattered papers, and she feels a lump start to form in her throat. It’s obvious something isn’t right with Chris. He’s nowhere near his regular self. Honestly, Jill thinks he might not have been his regular self for quite some time now. “Can I ask you a question?” She asks. “Yeah? What is it?” Chris turns to her, pausing from his search.

 “Are you okay?” She bites her lip, holding her breath as she waits for an answer.

 “Oh…Don’t worry about me, Jill. I just need a little sleep is all.” He waves a hand, dismissing her, but she pushes further. “But you look like you haven’t slept in days , Chris!” She exclaims. “You need to give it a rest — for yourself.”

 Jill swallows nervously as he goes quiet, staring at her with an emotion she can’t describe. As he turns his face away from her, she can see his jaw clenching. “Everybody’s worried about you…” She frowns. “ I’m worried about you…”

“I don’t think you should be worried about me; you should be worried about Umbrella,” He mutters, “But I’ll do it myself if I have to.”

 Jill doesn’t know what to say. Chris is obviously not in the right mental state to think clearly, so what can she do? What can she say? She can’t just leave him all alone like this…He’s her friend, and they have to stick together. 

 “You don’t have to do it all by yourself — you have me, you have Barry — ”

 “But why is it that I seem to be the only one who’s not acting like it didn’t happen?” He throws his hands up, and Jill chews on the inside of her cheek.

 Chris is right; Jill has been trying to get over all this and move on with her life, same as everyone else. That’s the only way she knows how to deal with things — pretend it never happened and move on — but it’s clear her method isn’t working. Maybe she might have to take on Chris’s approach; maybe she should just throw herself into the flames and hope to emerge from the ashes. The many faces of their lost teammates still haunt her dreams, crying out for her to help them. She can’t help them now, but she can avenge them — and Umbrella is the one going to pay for it.

 Jill’s gaze falls to the floor and a sigh slips past her lips. 

 “ You’re right .”

 Chris’s expression softens and he raises a brow. “I am?”

 “Yes…and I’m sorry you feel like you have to fight by yourself. From now on I want to be involved and I want you to tell me and Barry everything — and vice versa.” She purses her lips. “Don’t hide yourself away or go on stakeouts by yourself anymore, okay?”

 Chris can’t help but let a slight laugh fall from his lips. “I’m feeling a sense of deja vu here…” He says, scratching the back of his neck. Jill shares a laugh herself, “You’re telling me.”

 They both look at each other for a moment, silence consuming the room until Jill speaks up again.

 “Why don’t we straighten up a little around here? It might make you feel better.”

 Chris takes a look around his apartment and sheepishly looks to the floor. He may or may not have procrastinated cleaning… for a while . “Yeah, let’s clean up.” He agrees, beginning to make his way to the kitchen to grab some trash bags. He pauses halfway to the kitchen, turning to look at Jill.

 “You’re right, too, you know.”

 “What do you mean?” She questions.

 “I should be keeping you updated, and I promise I will — It’s just…” His fists clench and he shakes his head. “Forget it, I’ll tell you later.”

 “Is it about Erica?” Jill pipes up.

 Chris doesn’t respond to her question; instead, he grabs some trash bags from a cabinet. He starts pulling one out from the box before he throws it onto the counter with a sigh. “ Yes …it’s about Erica.”

 Jill walks over and leans against the counter, eager to know what Chris has to say. “What is it?” Did Chris find her? Did he finally find her?

 “Last night during my steakout, I overheard Umbrella has a facility somewhere beneath the city. I — I don’t know if she’s there, but — what if she’s been there this entire time? What if she’s been beneath the city this whole time, Jill?” His voice cracks, “What if she doesn’t remember us, what if — ”

 Jill puts a hand on Chris’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She understands how Chris feels — not knowing if someone you care about is safe or not. It’s been over four months since Jill had contact with Erica, if she could call it that. It was just a dream, but she still remembers it clearly. She remembers Erica telling her she was still alive, and she wouldn’t — no, she couldn’t — believe it until she saw the picture Chris found in that mansion. She knew it was Erica because that’s how she looked in Jill’s dream — asleep inside of a cryogenic tank, much like the Tyrant had been; put on display like some kind of trophy.

 Jill also recalls Erica telling her she was probably in or around Raccoon City…so does that mean Chris is onto something? Does that mean she’s in this underground facility?

 “We’re gonna find her, Chris.”

 “But when ? I just — I — ”

 “You love her, I get it.” Jill finishes for him and he looks at her with a sad expression before he pulls her in for a hug. She accepts it and hugs him back. 

 Chris feels like he’s fallen into some kind of hell. Someone he genuinely feels for was kidnapped and experimented on, innocent civilians were murdered because of Umbrella’s horrendous crimes, his teammates were slaughtered in front of his very eyes, and to make matters worse — Albert Wesker had been the sole perpetrator. He had portrayed himself as the cool, confident captain of the S.T.A.R.S. Team — but it was all a lie. He’s the reason all of Chris’s friends and colleagues are dead. He’s the reason Erica is trapped in Umbrella’s grasp. He took Chris’s respect and servitude and gave him the middle finger. Pulling himself back to reality he reminds himself that even though Wesker is dead, Umbrella is still operating and running and he will take them down. 

 He breaks away from the embrace and grabs a trash bag, handing one to Jill. Jill gladly takes it with a smile. Chris shakes it out and shoots her a grin.

 “Let’s get cleaning, shall we?”

⋆

DATE : ┃AUGUST 24TH, 1998. LOCATION : ┃CHRIS’S JOURNAL.

⸺ . ⋆ ☆ ⋆ . ⸺

 With Jill and Barry’s help, I finally obtained vital information for our case. Umbrella has begun research on the new G-Virus, a variation of the T-Virus. What does this G-Virus do? What kind of death and destruction could it cause?

 The three of us talked it over and we have decided to fly out to the main Umbrella HQ in Europe to put a stop to Umbrella’s crimes. Jill says she’s going to remain in the city to tie up some loose ends and join us in a month. 

 I’ve decided not to tell my sister about this trip because doing so could put her in danger. If you find this, please forgive me, Claire. I have somebody waiting for me. I hope you’ll get to meet her.

⋆

DATE : ┃AUGUST 24TH, 1998. LOCATION : ┃JILL’S DIARY.

⸺ . ⋆ ☆ ⋆ . ⸺

 Chris left town today. Barry informed me that he would send his family to Canada out of Umbrella’s reach, and then he would follow suit. I decided to remain in Raccoon City for a while because I know that the underground research facility in this city will be very important to this entire case. I can’t say for certain, but I’m led to believe Erica might be kept in this facility. I don’t know where else she could be…I’m hoping to find out before I leave the city.

 In a month or so, I’ll be joining Chris and Barry somewhere in Europe. That’s where our real battle begins…

⋆

DATE : ┃█ █, ████. LOCATION : ┃ █. TIME : ┃██:██ ██.

⸺ . ⋆ ☆ ⋆ . ⸺

 “Something has happened.”

 The words cut through floral scenery and curious eyes look up as the echo catches unsuspecting ears. A fear washes over her body; what happened? Is something wrong? Negative notions that start to form in her mind fuel her to speak up. “What do you mean ‘something has happened’?”

 “There has been some sort of disturbance. I sense that we will awaken soon…” Sol affirms.

 A lump grows in Erica’s throat. What? Did she hear that correctly? What does Sol mean by a ‘disturbance’? What do they mean she’s going to wake up? Why — and, more importantly, — how ? “How do you know that?” She asks, standing from her spot in a patch of dandelions.

 “There is a ruckus going on. Our kin are squirming in their tubes and cages, eager to be free — just like us .” Sol says.

 In an instant, Erica can hear them; she can hear the ravenous screams and cries of her monstrous brethren. LeT uS oUt! LET US OUT!!! lEt Us OuT! She covers her ears, but it doesn’t help — she’s overwhelmed by the sounds of shrieks and howls. They start to dissipate after a few moments, and Sol speaks again.

 “They are begging to be let out; they will achieve their freedom soon…as will we.”

⋆

September 23, 1998.

URGENT - ATTENTION ALL NEST STAFF

Due to an incident in the North Area, all NEST personnel are to immediately use the “DEVIL” antiviral agent on themselves. DEVIL is the only way to prevent g mutation. If you have been infected with the G-Virus, seek help immediately and destroy the g cells in your body.

This email is automatically generated in the event of an emergency. Please do not reply to this message.

#resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil fanfic #isekai #post resident evil 1 #pre-resident evil 2 #pre resident evil 2 #umbrella corporation #erica slater (oc) #sol (oc) #chris redfield #barry burton #jill valentine #S.T.A.R.S. #albert wesker

[itgirlification]

supermodel | jjk

the last three months have been hell for you, but Jungkook seemed to be living his best life.

pairing: ex-bf!jk x thick!reader

warnings: explicit mentions of body image and insecurities, infidelity, anal sex, oral (male receive), foul language (kinda), etc.

now playing: supermodel by sza

part two part three

Exactly three months ago, your and Jungkook’s 2 years relationship officially ended. Unofficially, it ended about 5 months ago. And for about one month now, Jungkook’s been seeing someone else.

Your heart and mind told you not to do it but you couldn’t help calculating. Three months ago, you were still dating, two months later, he started dating someone else. That must mean he’s known her for a while. Did he cheat on you with her? Well, it’s not like it matters now anyway, does it?

Her name was Yuki, an undeniable Japanese beauty. You were still in college, studying music and she was a famous model who appeared in internationally known magazines. You assumed she met Jungkook during a photoshoot since he was a professional photographer who often worked for companies like Vogue and Playboy. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to her.

It wasn’t the fact that he moved on so quickly that hurt you the most. It was the fact that he knew all about your low self-esteem and how you lack confidence. Especially about your body. And he still went and dated a model, of all professions in the world. He was definitely over you.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he did it on purpose. But thankfully, you knew better, he looked too happy for that to be even considered. He forgot about you.

You’re making yourself sadder by remembering all the times he assured you you were beautiful and your body was nothing to be ashamed of. The times he let his fingertips run over the lines of your stretch marks, whispering in your ear how much he loved them and how they reminded him of Tiger stripes. The times he caressed your jiggly thighs and told you how sexy he thought they were.

Then your mind would drift back to the phone in your hand, the Instagram page of Yuki Sakurai opened, careful not to accidentally like anything and expose yourself. Not that she’d notice anyway, she had 3.7 million followers, while you had a private one with 500 followers and no posts, and she gets around 300 to 700 thousand likes on each post, depending on whether she posts random photos or pretty pictures of herself. Or newly, your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Oh, how crazy everybody goes whenever she posts him. People love them together. You couldn’t blame them. Two attractive people? Of course, they’re gonna look great together.

Fucking great.

That the end of your relationship with Jungkook would look like this was semi-predictable from the beginning. He did admit to you that he never thought he’d date someone that looked like you when you first dated. And your heart broke a little. But he also made up for it in those two years, it was a beautiful relationship nonetheless.

While you weren’t exactly his ‘ideal’ type, he was definitely yours. You always heard from other women ‘when in a relationship, the man always has to love the woman more than she loves him. Otherwise, it won’t work.’ You never really got the saying until your breakup with Jungkook happened. It was the fact that you clearly loved Jungkook more than he loved you that lead to this.

“Oh my goodness!”, your roommate, Jane, dramatically exclaimed. “Will you stop feeling bad for yourself and do something? That’s not what hot girls do, sis.”

Jane was a lovely girl with a not so lovely temper. She always means well and you got along perfectly as soon as you met. Which was around 3 and a half years ago.

She looked over your shoulder to see what you were looking at. You obviously didn’t want her to see you snooping around your ex-boyfriend’s current girlfriend’s Instagram but it was too late.

“Seriously, yn?”, she took your phone in her hand and threw it on the bed. “Let’s go somewhere, you can’t do this to yourself anymore. I’m not letting you.”

Jane was clearly worried about you at this point. The only thing you did these last few weeks was eating, shower, cry, sleep and miss a whole bunch of classes. This wasn’t good at all.

“Where?”, your question was short.

“To the mall? Or the nail studio? Anything that’ll get you out of this fucking dormitory.”, Jane sighed, pulling the blanket off of you, making you whine a little. “C’mon, go put on some cute outfit and we’ll go.”

You felt bad since she was trying hard to make you feel better. But it didn’t really work.

You nodded, standing up from the bed, nonetheless. You picked out a cute two-piece dress, that brought back blurred memories of the time you went on a date with Jungkook, wearing the same two-piece. Bet Yuki would look cuter in this...

‘Shut your petty ass up, yn. It’s embarrassing, the way you’re stuck on a taken guy who wants nothing to do with you’

You wish you could change the way you think, even if it’s just for an hour or two. You wish you would stop imagining Jungkook judging you when he saw you naked or when you told him that you wished you could cut off some of your fat with a pair of scissors.

You were beyond ashamed of yourself. Why wasn’t it easy for you to just stay by yourself? why were you so desperately in need of Jungkook by your side to the point where you’d lock yourself in your room for a month just because he isn’t there?

You needed Jungkook. You became so attached to him in those two years, because you always saw him as a permanent, a forever. Not just a temporary, not just a distant memory. You already saw him as the father of your children, as the man you’re gonna marry.

You were so blinded by the fact that you had him, that you forgot you could lose him anytime.

“I’m done, let’s go.”, unenthusiastically, you announced to Jane, who was already waiting for you.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here!”, In contrast to your spirit, hers seemed to be all roses and daisies. “Lord knows you need it...”

__________

“Look at this cute ass skirt, girl”, Jane pointed at a chic, wine mini skirt she was holding. “You know, when I saw it back there I wanted to have it, but it’d look so much better on you”

You took a few seconds to admire Jane’s beauty. She was about 3 cm taller than you, had a great posture, and almond, dark brown eyes that suited her dark skin tone perfectly. Her body leaned more towards the slimmer side.

“Shut up! No, it would not”, you let out a small giggle. “It would look gorgeous on you, buy it.”

She smiled a little at your laughs. She was happy to see you at least a little cheerful again. “Yeah, but I think it’d look better on you. I’m entitled to my own opinion, am I not?”

You knew this debate was gonna go back and forth, because of her stubbornness. “Let’s both buy the skirt.”

You ended up doing so, added by a bunch of bags full of clothing. This may’ve turned into your new coping mechanism. Who needed therapy when you can go on a shopping spree?

Two hours were spent in boutiques and clothing stores and Jane decided she was tired, wanting to visit the local spa.

“No, seriously, these Riverdale seasons just keep on getting worse and worse. Netflix needs to step up their game ASAP”, Jane ranted, making you laugh at how serious she takes it. “It’s getting embarrassing. I’m being for real.”

The two of you were sitting in the whirlpool at the spa, relaxing your whole bodies a little.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I don’t watch these new Netflix shows anyways. Been stuck on the vampire diaries for the last 7 years”, you chuckled, knowing you hated trying new things. “Can you pass me one of those magazines?”

Jane nodded, grabbing a random one from the table next to her and handed it to you, without looking at it.

The cover of it caught your eyes immediately. How could it not, when your ex’s new girl looks absolutely dazzling on the front page of it.

‘Supermodel Yuki Sakurai talks summer fashion tips, struggle with self-love and most importantly, her hot, new boyfriend the media is going crazy over’ was the headline of the Harper’s Bazaar Magazine cover.

You felt your stomach getting sick and your breath getting heavier, but you still flipped the pages until you found the one with her interview. You began reading it, skipping the boring parts.

‘Int: so, we see you have a new boyfriend. Tell us, how did you guys meet?

Yuki: Yeah, he’s an amazing guy. We actually met about six or five months ago at one of my photoshoots, since he’s a photographer and we exchanged numbers and stuff, and then we made it official mid last month.’

About six or five months ago? You were with him back then, but her answer was too unclear to find out if he cheated or not.

“Woah, yn, you okay?”

You entirely forgot about the fact that you were with Jane, let alone somewhere other than your bed.

Before you could react, Jane snatched the magazine out of your hand.

“You really can’t escape them, huh?”, She sighs, taking you in her arm. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. In a few months, you’re gonna look back to this and think wow I really was stuck on a guy who’s scared of microwaves and cried like a bitch when Iron Man died.”

You laughed, punching her arm playfully. “You know, I actually love these things about him. Shows his sensitivity and the way he perceives things.”

Jane looked at you as if she didn’t believe you were actually saying that stuff. “Girl, you’re overanalyzing this. Let’s just throw this shit in the trash, okay?”

She put the magazine aside.

“I just don't know what I did wrong.”, You murmured. “I know we weren't the best, but we didn't even fight that much. We could’ve talked it through.”

Jane pursed her lips and cooed. “You know, relationships are complicated sometimes. The reason why he broke up, to begin with, is probably not your fault.”

“Well, what if it is? I mean what if I was too fat or too ugly for him?”, you asked. “If he wanted a skinny girl so bad, I could’ve lost weight for him, I don’t get it.”

Jane looked at you like you lost your mind entirely. “I can’t believe you just said that! Even if that was the reason, which it wasn’t, you shouldn’t make yourself suffer because of it. That’s his loss. You’re beyond gorgeous and you have an amazing body.”

“You’re just saying that.”, tears slowly started coming up in your eyes. “But the thing is Jungkook knows all about my insecurities. Why would he do that to me? I know he knows that I’m still not over him.”

You usually didn’t like crying in front of other people, but you didn’t really care at the moment, besides that was Jane. You trusted her with your life.

“Girl, men are trash, I can’t believe you’re crying over one right now, seriously.”, she wiped your tears and held your face between her hands. “You know, honestly, I’ve read so many articles about how models actually hate themselves and have like the lowest self-esteem so in conclusion, no matter how miserable you are, his new girl is even more miserable.”

You knew Jane didn’t mean it in a harmful way, but it sounded harsher than needed. “I don’t hate her, she probably doesn’t even know about me. I’m just really insecure. He upgraded from me. He’s dating a whole model now.”

The situation just felt like a deja vu of these last few weeks laying in your bed, even though you were at the spa with your friend. You were supposed to have fun, yet you didn’t feel like having any.

“Why would you feel insecure when all you’ve seen of her are Instagram posts and red carpet pictures? She’s supposed to look beautiful, it’s her job.”

To a certain extent, Jane was right, but that didn’t really help your situation, you still felt bad about yourself. You stayed silent.

“C’mon, this isn’t fun anymore. Let’s leave.”, Jane mumbled.

_______

it’s been two days since the incident at the spa and you felt a little bit better now.

Those days were spent reading the same three book series you’ve read your entire life, overthinking, hot Cheetos, Indian takeout, and Netflix. It really wasn’t as miserable as it sounded.

You were just taking a little rest before term break ends and you have to go back to the shithole college again.

Jane was using the time until college starts again, but in different ways than you were. She was planning on going to some frat party in an hour and forget about the world’ for a minute. Or till 4 in the morning, where she will most likely drunk call you and ask you for a ride back to the dorms, because the friends she went to the party with were shit-faced as well and were in no way capable of driving anywhere without the cops stopping them.

Going out partying on a Friday night was a Jane tradition. In the past, you’d sometimes go with her, but you mostly spent your time out with Jungkook doing something more fun than partying could ever be. Now you can’t do that anymore, but laying in bed is more ideal than a party for you at the moment.

“How do I look?”, Jane twirled around to show off her black cocktail dress. She looked beautiful.

“You look beautiful.”, you responded to her question. “Are you leaving now?”

“Hm”, she said, to which you nodded. “You sure you don’t wanna come with me? It’s gonna be really fun.”

You shook your head no.

“Alright”, she shrugged, making her way out of your bedroom. “But I told you, it’s gonna be fun.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “I’ll stay here, I have shit to do.”

“Yeah, right, like binge-watching the vampire diaries and taking 5-hour naps”, she said in a sarcastic tone. “Anyway, bye-bye, Vic’s already waiting for me in the car.”

Victoria was perhaps one of the most obnoxious people you know, yet she was too much of a nice person for you to talk shit about her. The voice of your intrusive thoughts couldn’t help but to, though.

“Alright, bye, take care and say hi to Vic from me.”

After Jane left, an hour went by like it was just a couple of minutes. You were starting to get real bored and decided to watch some regular tv in hopes to find something you enjoy. You ended up not finding anything fun, but you still watched it, because you didn’t have anything else to do.

A few moments later, the doorbell rang and you were suddenly worried. Either this is a serial killer or Jane forgot something.

But to your surprise, it was neither, but it was none other than

“Jungkook?”, truly, those were the only words you were able to mutter out at your shocked state. “What are you do-“

At the speed of light, you were interrupted by your ex-boyfriend pressing his lips to yours. He didn’t say a word.

You weren’t expecting him. Not knowing how you were supposed to feel at the moment, you just let it happen. You were sure your mental state couldn’t get any worse than that, no matter how this will affect you in the end.

“Is Jane home?”, for the first time in 3 months, you’re hearing his silky voice again.

Jungkook knew Jane always had some type of special hatred for him with her killing stares and her bitter comments. You didn’t notice either though.

He also knew she must hate him even more after your breakup. Or maybe she liked him more now since she was able to get rid of him without killing anyone.

“No”, your answer was short and it made a weight fall from Jungkook’s shoulders before he continued kissing you.

It wasn’t anything you haven’t done before, yet it felt like it’s been ages since it last happened. Your mind drifted to the thought of Jungkook and his model girlfriend. You were asking yourself what their sex life was like, if she was tighter than you or if she had stretch marks and scars.

Jungkook’s lips were moving south, giving your neck wet kisses, while you were wondering why he broke up with his model girlfriend. Or if he even did. You felt selfish for not caring.

Removing your clothes one by one, you were left in your underwear, while Jungkook only had his boxers on.

This body was yours. You knew it inside out. Where he liked to get touched and where he preferred not to. You knew him better than anyone else. You were sure.

You already moved to your bedroom, since Jungkook effortlessly carried you there. You were sat on his lap, facing him and your hands were in his messy hair. His hands were around your waist, he was slightly smiling into the kiss, as you started grinding on him. He loved how easy it was for him to turn you on. You were still his.

Cutting off the kiss, he looked you in the eyes, while his hand was on your cheek. “Say aah.”, he said.

You widened your mouth obediently, which was followed by him collecting as much saliva as he could in his mouth and spitting it into your mouth.

“Swallow.”, demanding, he spit on your face, his eyes become darker with every passing moment. You did as he said.

You looked at him with big eyes. He knew you loved it. You’ve always had a thing for him degrading and humiliating you during sex.

He started grinding on you almost desperately. You knew exactly what he wanted.

Getting out of his grip, you dropped to your knees and freed his hard dick from his drawers. You reached for it and started pumping it, and licking it. Your spit was leaking down his dick as you used it for lubrication. Then you started sucking on it, just the way you used to.

Jungkook’s groans and satisfied sighs were enough to make you even wetter than before. You enjoyed giving more than receiving.

Your mouth was wet and warm around him, giving him a feeling of familiarity. You lick over the tip a few times, then proceed to fully take him into your mouth.

The bulge in your throat could be seen and the way your eyes were tearing up a little wasn’t bothering you at all. You loved giving.

Jungkook started thrusting in and out of your warm, welcoming mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat multiple times.

“Fuck”, a throaty moan left Jungkook’s mouth, giving you hints that he was about to cum. And he did, releasing in your mouth before you swallowed it. “Shit, baby, that was so good.”

You felt your face heat up and a sheepish smile made its way to your face. Your throat was sore.

The two of you were on the bed again. To you, it felt like it was the times before your breakup again, when you’d purposely start an argument just for the makeup sex because Jungkook wasn’t giving you any anymore. It was like sex was the only thing to look forward to.

You felt attached to Jungkook to a point where it was dangerous. You weren’t okay when he wasn’t around. He affected every part of your life and God knew it wasn’t always a positive thing. Maybe it was the fact that he took your virginity. Maybe because he was your first boyfriend, the first guy that made you believe you were worthy of love and that someone was actually capable of loving you. One thing you knew was Jungkook had an expansive influence on your life.

While you were practically drowning in your own thoughts, Jungkook was busy taking off your underwear.

“You okay?”, Jungkook calmly asked you, looking at your riddled face.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m okay.”, you sounded distracted, Jungkook wasn’t sure about asking you what it is though. He didn’t feel like getting personal.

So he shrugged it off and started kissing you again, his dick was unsurprisingly hard again as he played with your tits. He drew lines over the stretch marks of your thighs and kissed them.

“Can I fuck your ass?”, Jungkook’s raspy, tired-sounding voice casually asked, to which you quickly nodded, knowing that Jungkook’s favorite position had always been anal. He was massaging and gripping your ass firmly.

“This is gonna hurt at first, but I promise it gets better.”, He warned calmly into your ear, while putting some lube on his dick and just went right into your ass, slowly thrusting so you don’t feel as much pain.

He was right, it did hurt a lot when he first put it in, but the pain just changed into pleasure in a matter of time and his slow-paced thrusts helped with the adjustment.

“Fuck, I missed this ass”, he practically growled into your ear, as he kept on thrusting in and out, steadily gripping your wide hips with his big, veiny hands. “It just doesn’t feel right when I’m inside her ass.”

You knew your confidence shouldn’t rely on Jungkook bringing his girlfriend down, but you couldn’t help but feel good about your body when he said that. It’s been a while since you felt even a tiny spark of confidence. You weren’t so fond of him mentioning her while he was inside of you.

Your soft moans rang through the whole room like sirens, while he watched your ass jiggle against his pelvis, thrusting in and out faster every second. He missed this.

You had always thought you were indecisive, but you knew exactly what you wanted. You just couldn’t have that, so you’d eventually have to settle for less.

Jungkook wasn’t to blame for it, you just couldn’t concede your shortcomings. The movie’s villain wasn’t always the real villain.

Your hands traveled to your pussy to make sure you’d orgasm as well, when you heard Jungkook’s breathing getting heavier and his thrusts getting gentler than before, indicating that he was gonna cum soon. You were certain he could make you cum with just anal, but you wanted to cum with him.

With furrowed eyebrows and drops of sweat dripping down his body, Jungkook looked down at your arched back. The whole scene was sticky, especially when Jungkook presses his upper body to your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and kissing the spot.

It was kinda odd, having sex with your ex-boyfriend you were crying over just a day ago. There was a certain intensity to it though. Like your long-lasting nostalgia was finally fulfilled.

You’ve realized you couldn’t imagine yourself being intimate with anybody else. Jungkook already knew your body, how it looked without the material protecting it, the strawberry skin, the slightly sagging breasts you swore you’d surgically remove once you had the chance to but didn’t. He knew where you liked being touched, he was the first one to even touch you in those places.

You were unsure what you’d do with yourself when he leaves.

Jungkook’s thrusts slowly started stopping and you too felt the familiar sensation in your stomach.

Suddenly, you two were nothing but desire, fear, and pleasure. And faster than you could process, you came together.

For minutes after your orgasm, you were just laying on the bed, thoughtless. Maybe a little regretful. Not you, but him.

You weren’t facing each other, but you could hear each other’s breathing. Your stomach was filled with something you’d describe as post-sex melancholia.

All of a sudden, Jungkook stood up from the bed, startling your resting self a little, but you decided to keep quiet, wanting to see what he was going to do.

He made his way to the door to leave what he thought was your sleeping body laying there. You couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“Where are you going?”, your soft voice suddenly rang in his ears. “Don’t you wanna stay?”

He didn’t know how exactly to tell you. You’ve always been a gullible little girl, you were the type of girl to think fucking equals love. Little did you know that wasn’t the case at all.

“Yn.... you know I can’t”, Jungkook responded, you knew it wasn’t gonna be good when he said your name like that. “I got a girl at home and I don’t wanna mess shit up with her.”

There it was. Your suspicion was corroborated. He was still going out with the model and you were a certified home wrecker. Great.

You physically felt your heart breaking. “Bu- but why are you here then?”

You were incapable of being mad at him at the moment. It was your fault for letting him in, again. After breaking your trust and your heart.

“This was a mistake”, he declared, not looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry, yn...”

He’s moved past your room now, already at the exit of your dormitory. He was about to leave.

“You already ruined shit with her when you came here and fucked me.”, your voice was small, but your words were heard.

Without looking back, he left.

And you went back to your room, standing in the middle of it for a minute in silence before your brain fully processed what had happened and your tears started pouring.

#jungkook #jungkook smut #bts #bts fic #bangtan smut #bts smut #jk smut #jk imagine #jeongguk #jeongguk imagine #jeongguk smut #jeongguk fanfiction #taehyung smut #jimin smut #hoseok smut #yoongi smut #seokjin smut #namjoon smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x female reader #thick thighs save lives

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

a kiss from the moon | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: All these years, all these summers, Jeon Jungkook has loved you. His problem? You have no idea. Mostly because he has always said it far too platonically and thrown up in your lap after saying it. Drunk. Fuck. Oh, yeah, and you're also Park Jimin's best friend since preschool. Shit.

warnings: language; alcohol consumption; pining; JK gets distracted by (your) tits during his quest, typical; non-idol!BTS - purple-haired!Jungkook x sleepy af, noona!reader, ft Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung radiating big soulmate energy; childhood friends-to-lovers

yes, it's JK from the 'Butter' beach photos

--

“I love you!”

You lifted your head out of the mountain of pillows, groggy and hazy, squinting at the moonlight filtering through the floating curtains. The night breeze was warm, drifting in softly with the low hum of cicadas. But what was that other sound? That other sound was familiar, wasn’t it?

You heard your name being shouted, followed by, “Wake up!”

You made a face and stumbled out of the bed, sticking your head out of your bedroom window, your own hair flying back and smacking you in the face.

“Yah! Jeon Jungkook, are you trying to wake up the whole damn neighborhood?!”

“Get down here!”

You put on your best disgruntled expression and peered down at the form on your front lawn, shoving your own hair aside.

“What are you going on about?” you muttered, seeing Jeon Jungkook looking up at you, puffing his cheeks, long wet purple hair fading to gray because of the chlorine from swimming all night at that party Park Jimin had invited you to earlier today, to which you had responded, no thanks, I’m going to sleep all day, I worked three double shifts in a row and I have zero desire to be flung into your family’s swimming pool at this time, but I will acknowledge that your offer is very generous, and then promptly passing out for a good – you glanced at your phone with the pink bunny case Jungkook had given you two summers ago – ten hours and it was still not enough for you to comprehend why your best friend’s best friend was standing on your front lawn yelling at your parents’ house that you were watching for a month while they were in Italy getting drunk on far too expensive wine and eating cheese they probably couldn’t pronounce.

Jungkook was shirtless, clad only in orange swim shorts and sandals like a fucking hooligan. He was clutching a plastic red Solo cup and he threw it at the house, yelling your name again.

“Oh my fucking God, don’t litter, you idiot!” you bellowed back, throwing yourself away from the windowsill and crawling on the floor to your bedroom door like the evolution of mankind, making it from all fours to two legs by the time you got to the stairs – good thing too, you might have broken your neck if you were still disoriented – and you dragged yourself downstairs, yanking your white slip dress straight. Not your choice of pajamas. Your mom’s, who told you to be more ladylike, whatever the fuck that meant, and who also informed you in the same breath that it was your only choice of pajamas since they donated all your clothes from high school.

Awesome.

You go to university and your parents yeet all evidence that they had a child and go vacationing.

Good for them.

You wrenched your front door open and shoved your feet into your dad’s giant brown sandals and clapped your way over to the pink-faced, mildly drunk, shirtless man in swimming trunks on your front lawn.

“It’s two in the morning. Why are you standing here drunk and professing your love like some kind of deranged Romeo?” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “Why aren’t you at Jimin’s?” You spied the red Solo cup and picked it up, whipping your head back to Jeon Jungkook.

He was staring at you with his mouth open.

Charming.

He didn’t say anything for a good ten seconds.

“Alright, fine, let me call my loser of a best friend and tell him to pick up his loser of a best friend, so I can go back to sleep,” you muttered, about to turn around.

Jungkook seemed to sputter back to life. “Wait, um, noona–”

“He speaks! He’s not dead.”

“A… Ah… Um…”

You squinted at him and reached up to knock the side of his head. “Hello? Anyone in there?”

Jungkook blurted out, “I love you.”

His breath smelled a lot like alcohol.

“Yeah, I got that. You also said that when I got you through your Chemistry and World History exams. Both times. You also say that to like, what, six of your guy friends? Don’t get me started on the amount of times you’ve said it and thrown up in my lap right after. Don’t do that this time,” you added sternly, prodding at his chest. “I’ve got one set of pajamas because my mom forgets that human beings change clothes, so throw up on the grass.”

“Uh… that’s pajamas…?”

“Lady pajamas,” you grumbled sarcastically, lifting the lid and chucking the crumpled Solo cup into your parents’ trash can. “Since I’m not lady enough apparently according to my mom, even though I’m ninety-nine percent sure giant band t-shirts are completely unisex but, whatever, it’s just a dress, not a big deal.”

“Um.”

You looked at Jungkook, who looked back at you, who put your hands up and gestured him to say something, who in response rose his hands and flapped them in confusion, giving you absolutely zero helpful communication. The movement reminded you he had gotten his right arm and hand tattooed in the last couple years, the black ink standing out against tan skin. You hadn’t seen him too many times during your university years, too busy completing research papers and staying late nights in laboratories, only to now end up working on hospital software and sitting on your ass all day. Life, eh? These past three days were spent on working through bugs for the next software update and you had maybe lost all social skills as you attempted to unravel lines of code that you stared at for forty-eight out of the past seventy-two hours.

Fun!

“Do you need a cookie? A shower? The Bible?” you offered, waving your hands. “Maybe tell me why you’re here, yes?”

He was staring and you realized you were slightly bent over in your gesture, your breasts firmly pressed into the cups of the slip dress. You straightened and Jungkook’s wide dark brown eyes went back to your face.

“I… I didn’t realize you had come back, noona.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? I told Jimin last week. He said he was hanging out with you and Taehyung. I figured he’d just tell you guys then.”

Jungkook shook his head quickly, gray-purple hair flying about. He pointed to the left, where Jimin’s house was several blocks over. “He only mentioned it just now, when he was throwing up in the bathroom from doing eight shots in a row because Taehyungie dared him.”

“…. Maybe he needs the Bible…” you muttered, shaking your head.

Then the realization hit you.

“Did you walk here from Jimin’s and straight up abandon the party?”

Jungkook tilted his head and thought about it. “Yeah.”

You looked around to find the camera and see if you were being pranked, but there was no camera because this life wasn’t purely for entertainment, right? Nah, this wasn’t The Matrix.

Mhm.

“Hah, well, what’s wrong? Are you upset I didn’t go to the party or something? I had three double-shifts this week, I wasn’t going to be any fun passed out before actually drinking–”

“Yoongi-hyung was passed out before drinking.”

“In some ways, I swear that guy and I are the same person,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t go and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I really banked on Jimin not being an airhead, but once again he is, so maybe I should reconsider him as my best friend…”

“Noona, I…”

You looked up from your mental consideration of Park Jimin’s pros and cons, the first pro being he punched that ex of yours that cheated on you with some Tinder hookup and that was already enough to stop contemplating, so you blinked at Jungkook curiously, looking into wide brown eyes, long strands of ash-purple floating around his handsome face from the night breeze, brushing against his parted lips, highlighting the mole underneath them, placed perfectly in the center like a kiss from the moon itself.

“Can I take a shower and sleep it off here?”

You tilted your head. “Yeah, sure. You can borrow my dad’s clothes. You should call Jimin though. You don’t want him to panic that he lost you.”

“Y… Yeah, okay…”

-

Jeon Jungkook really thought he could say it this time.

Collected all his courage and ran, ran as fast as he could, couldn’t believe Jimin had neglected to say she was coming home over the summer for more than a day, days without her reminding Jungkook that he was a coward for not saying it when he could have, having lost his most important person in the world because he was too afraid of telling Park Jimin that he was in love with his best friend.

He remembered that smile wearing nothing but a large t-shirt, sitting on Jimin’s bedroom floor, crushing all of them at UNO and cackling as Jimin blew up for ending up in last place for the third time in a row, yelling that the game was rigged, and Jungkook remembered thinking, I should tell her tonight.

And he didn’t.

He remembered her saying to Taehyung that she just wasn’t into girly things. They were having this argument over pizza and Taehyung was waving his around saying she should at least try a dress on every once in a while, never know, might actually like it, and her rolling her eyes as she shot back that she didn’t have to do anything just because it was stereotypical for her gender. Taehyung told her to stop using big words and waved his hands, accidentally flinging his pizza slice into her lap, and Jungkook remembered thinking, I should tell her after we clean up.

And he didn’t.

He remembered seeing her prepare to leave for university once again, holding a small package from the internet and handing it to her, a small but practical belated birthday gift, both of them surprised when she opened it, not the matte black phone case he had ordered, but somehow mixed up with a pink bunny phone case that had no business being owned by someone who didn’t like girly things.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t order this–”

And she laughed, shaking her head. “That’s okay, I gotta go, thanks anyway, Jungkook!”

The years went by and every year Jungkook told himself, this is the one, and every year he just couldn’t say it.

He thought he could say it now, drunk and furious at Jimin for not preparing him for this moment, but on his way here Jungkook figured that perhaps this was preferred, that maybe it was better that he couldn’t sit around nervously overthinking what to say.

But, of course, the problem was…

He had already said it in a platonic way.

Shit.

He really fucked himself throughout the years.

Jungkook sighed, now wearing borrowed clothes, holding the note of her handwriting as he rubbed his hair with the towel.

I washed your shorts and they’re hang-drying now. You can sleep in the guest room. I left a glass of water and some hangover meds. If you need anything, I’ll be asleep but you can attempt to wake the dead if you want.

He walked down the hall, towel around his shoulders. Her bedroom door was open. He stood outside the entrance, sighing, seeing her sleeping form and her bedside table, her phone sitting on the charger.

His breath caught in his throat as he recognized that pink bunny phone case.

-

“Where’s Jungkook?”

“Probably at her parents’ place, confessing his love,” Kim Taehyung snickered, picking up the beer bottles left behind next to the pool.

“Hah, of course he would leave without cleaning up,” Park Jimin grumbled, pushing the recycling bin along as Taehyung tossed each bottle inside.

“You think he’s gonna tell her?”

“He didn’t even tell me,” Jimin muttered, shoving used napkins into the bag hanging off the side of the recycling bin that he was going to toss into the trash later. “I had to find out from you. I think he’s hopeless. Why does he like her anyway? She’s fun to be around, yeah, she’s good at school, yeah, knows a lot of random facts, yeah, if you get into philosophy with her like Namjoon-hyung does, you begin to question humanity and reality, yeah, but other than that…”

“You hitting on your best friend, dude?”

“I mean, she’s kinda hot, she wouldn’t say no to me.”

Taehyung snorted.

Jimin smacked him in the ass with the recycling bin.

“Anyway, he’s probably just standing in her bedroom creepily watching her sleeping.”

-

Jungkook stared down at her sleeping form.

He looked up, looking out the window into the late, late night. He was tired, and yet he couldn’t sleep, too busy wondering.

I don’t deserve her if I’m not brave enough to say it.

“Jungkook?”

-

You squinted at the large form in your bedroom.

“Why are you just staring moodily out the window?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “Is something wrong? Are you hungry? I can make you a snack…”

“Noona, do you know what the worst feeling in the world is?” he asked softly, still looking out into the warm night.

You grunted and scrunched up your face. “Stepping on a Lego?”

You heard Jungkook laugh and you smiled a little despite your groggy state, hearing a little bit of his old self, the younger Jungkook hanging out with you, Jimin, and, later, Taehyung, the four of you getting up to no good. Somehow, in the past few years, he had gotten quieter and quieter, at least around you, but then again you only came home to visit for a day or two before going back to university.

“Have you ever been in love, noona?”

“Yeah, with the red bean popsicles they used to sell at the ice cream trucks, but then they stopped, those assholes, I’ve never been so heartbroken in my life,” you grumbled, remembering the day where the ice cream man told you they were sold out and your young teenage heart shattering.

“I love you, you know.”

Was this a fever dream? Why did he keep repeating himself? You looked over to his back, still looking outside onto the street, the street where you all used to run and laugh every summer, pretending you were surviving in the wild and not in the middle of a suburban neighborhood, sitting around sipping lemonade and complaining about the heat even though you all could have gone inside, lighting sparklers at night and seeing whose would last the longest even though such a thing was only based on chance anyway.

“Is that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” he added quietly.

“The worst thing I’ve ever heard was accidentally hearing Jimin jacking off. Twice.”

Jungkook finally turned around, giving you a disgusted look. “What?”

You placed a hand on your face and sighed heavily, trying not to remember. “For some reason he thinks the bathroom isn’t echoey or something, like, at least do it in the shower, so the water masks the sound…” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Anyway, I would much rather hear you say you have love for me than listening to Jimin getting off.”

“I don’t have love for you.”

You raised your hand from your face and shifted your gaze to him, half-smile lingering on your lips from remembering Jimin’s carelessness. You made eye contact the second the words left his mouth, those brown eyes shrouded in shadows, but still so clear, a little helpless, a little sad.

“I’m in love with you,” Jungkook whispered softly.

Your eyes widened.

A soft breeze swept through the window, lifting the purple-gray strands from Jungkook’s face, revealing his lost, desolate expression.

The cicadas hummed.

A car alarm honked loudly, screeching through the night.

Both you and Jungkook jerked to face the window. You bolted out of bed and you both threw your hands onto the edge of the window, yanking it shut, wincing at the loud noise.

“Ah, jeez… what the hell…?” you groaned, slumping to the ground.

“What’s with people…?” Jungkook muttered, falling to the floor beside you, yanking the towel off his shoulders.

-

“Fuck, I pressed the wrong button!”

“Taehyung, what the hell, turn it off!”

“I was just trying to put the tangerines your parents gave me in my car!”

“I don’t care what you were doing, turn it off!”

-

“Anyway, sorry, you were saying something important and you got interrupted by some dumbass,” you sighed, nudging Jungkook with your shoulder.

“Uh… well, that was it…”

You blinked at him, tilting your head. “What, that you’re in love with me?”

“Y… Yeah?”

You blinked some more.

“Not the, want to go to the arcade and see who can get the highest score in PAC-MAN or go watch shitty action movies and rate the unrealistic plot lines or dare each other to eat whatever expired delicacy is in Taehyung’s fridge, kind of love?”

Jungkook made a repulsed face. “I regret eating that tofu. Don’t think I can ever look at uncooked tofu without gagging a little now…”

You leaned over and caught his eye.

“Do you mean the… want to date and get married and make babies, kind of love?”

His lips parted and the moonlight lit the small mole placed perfectly underneath his lower lip.

A delicate kiss from the moon itself.

Then you realized he was staring at your tits.

You yanked the neckline up a little and Jungkook started, looking back up at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to you in a dress, sorry, I’m being really rude–”

“It assures me that you’re at least interested in the making babies part,” you chuckled.

His ears turned red and he reached up to cover them, trying not to look down. “S… Sorry…”

“So…?”

He chewed on his lip, messing with his earrings with his fingertips. “Um… yeah, that kind of love. The latter kind.”

You lowered your hand. “You’re not messing with me, right? I swear, if this is one of Taehyung’s elaborate ideas to mess with me, I’m going to ki–”

Jungkook shook his head quickly, purple hair flying about. “I’m not joking around. I wanted to tell you for a long, long time, but…” His eyes darted about, panicking a little, before looking back to you helplessly. “You’re Jimin’s best friend, besides Taehyung, and what if… what if you thought I was gross or something and then I don’t think I could hang out with you guys anymore, but then you went to that prestigious university far away and I thought, I’m so stupid, I should have said something, anything, but every time I could even think about it, I didn’t know what to say, nothing seemed right…”

He let out a big sigh and tapped his head against the windowsill, closing his eyes.

“Also, I said it before and threw up in your lap right after, so that kinda fucked me up.”

“Can’t say I was really feeling the romance, yeah.”

He groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“I’d date you though. For real.”

Jungkook removed his hands and blinked at you. “What?”

You chuckled. “Why are you acting so surprised? I’m not going to date Jimin, blergh, I’ve known that guy since I was in preschool. I’m not dating Taehyung, I’m pretty sure he’s on a different brainwave than other human beings.”

You smiled at him and turned around to pick up your phone, holding it up.

“I don’t like girly things or cute things very much, but I kept your gift because it was from you and, funnily enough, I think it made me realize that I was rejecting femininity because society puts such a negative connotation on things young women like and because my friends growing up were primarily male, thus I wanted to seem cool or relatable so I rejected stereotypically feminine concepts…”

“… What?”

Now it was a confused what.

“Uh, never mind,” you laughed awkwardly, putting your phone back on your nightstand. “Anyway, Jungkook, you made me realize things about myself, and I love being around you, but I thought a handsome guy like you would want to date a pretty girl, and I’m not really that.”

Jungkook furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about? You’re the prettiest girl in the world. No one could ever be prettier than you.”

You felt your neck heat. “Yo, don’t inflate my ego when it’s not the truth,” you chuckled sheepishly, waving a hand. “You’ve been drinking anyway. Alcohol makes everyone prettier.”

“It’s the truth.”

Was he drunk or were you drunk? Why was Jeon Jungkook getting closer?

“Would you really date me?”

You stared into those chocolate eyes and smiled.

“Yes, I would.”

And you leaned forward and kissed him.

His eyes widened, staring at you and you closed your eyes, pressing your lips to his, inhaling his scent, memories of hot summers and mirthful laughter filling your head, standing beside Jungkook and kicking Jimin and Taehyung’s ass at table tennis even though Jungkook was doing most of the work, finishing a movie together after Jimin and Taehyung had passed out on the couch on top of each other and talking excitedly about it until you both fall asleep, getting lamb skewers after Jimin and Taehyung went off to eat ramen in a huff, unable to agree on the same meal as a foursome, but it was fine, no, better than fine, perfect even.

Because you were with Jungkook.

You broke the kiss and opened your eyes, smiling at him.

He blinked slowly, looking down at you.

“Noona…”

His hand raised, fingers spreading out longingly. You quickly reached up and pushed it back down.

“Jungkook, I swear, I do want to touch you in a less than holy way, but maybe not when you’re wearing my dad’s clothes, including his underwear, because that’s really fucking weird.”

Jungkook looked down at the brown t-shirt and beige shorts. “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

“You know, come to think of it, I feel like Taehyung has slowly stolen Jimin from me over the years, so maybe this was fated…” you mumbled, remembering at the moments you had shared with Jungkook were because your other two friends had abandoned you.

“I feel you, sometimes I feel like a third wheel…”

-

“I’m so sleepy.”

“I’ll tuck you in first, but I’m going to get us some water so we don’t die tomorrow morning.”

“Ugh, Jimin, bring another pillow please.”

“Hah, fine, but you’re buying breakfast tomorrow…”

--

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x noona #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

[multi-fandom-imagines-stuff]

Smaller Than This

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff/daughter!reader, Peter Parker/platonic!reader, Wanda Maximoff/reader

Description: The reader is Natasha Romanoff’s daughter, best friend of Peter Parker, and girlfriend of Wanda Maximoff. Growing up in the spotlight is hard enough, but things cross a line when people start commenting on the reader’s weight.

Warnings: eating disorder, swearing, threats of violence

Word count: 3,282

A/N: I know it’s not easy to deal with eating disorders, but please know that you are beautiful and amazing and you don’t deserve to have to suffer through that. Please, if you are struggling with this, reach out for help. <3

✩❀✩❀✩

Black Widow’s daughter spotted in Central Park with new best friend Scarlet Witch and Stark Industry intern Peter Parker! Could Parker be y/n’s new boyfriend?

You laughed and rolled your eyes as you clicked on the tweet. Stalking paparazzi twitter accounts had to be one of your favorite pastimes, simply because the so-called facts they were giving out were false 99% of the time. For instance, this situation? You had gone out for a picnic with Peter and Wanda when those photos were taken, and the paparazzi completely twisted things. Peter wasn’t your boyfriend, he was just your best friend. And Wanda wasn’t your best friend, she was your girlfriend. You chose to ignore the false headline as you went immediately for the replies.

‘Do you see the way y/n’s looking at Wanda? It seems more like there’s something going on between them than there is between y/n and Peter’

You smiled and liked that tweet. You liked messing with people just a bit. Whenever someone would tweet about there possibly being a relationship between you and Wanda, you liked the tweet. It wasn’t enough information to actually confirm the relationship as true, but it was enough to keep people speculating.

You scrolled through several more replies. Most of them were people using the heart eyes emoji or saying how much they loved your mom, but there were a few in there that stuck out more than the rest. That was because they were harsh and hurtful.

‘I don’t understand how someone can live with the Avengers and still look like that. Does she ever even exercise?’

‘She could stand to lose some weight. Instead of going out for a picnic, she should try to skip a few meals’

You read through replies for a few more minutes. Similar comments would pop up now and then, and while there wasn’t an overwhelming amount, there was still enough to make you close down the app and shut off your phone, averting all your attention toward not crying. 

“Miss y/n, dinner has been called,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice rang through your room.

Pushing the thoughts to the back of your mind, you got off your bed and made your way to the dining room. There, Peter and Wanda were setting the table while Steve and Bucky carried out the food.

You walked up behind your girlfriend and wrapped your arms around her waist, resting your chin on her shoulder. You felt her jump slightly before she realized it was you and relaxed into your touch. You placed a kiss on her cheek.

“I love you,” You whispered in her ear.

“Hey! What did we talk about?” Tony directed at you, raising an eyebrow at you and causing you to roll your eyes.

“No lovey-dovey shit at the dinner table,” You mumbled.

“Language!” Steve scolded you as Clint joined the conversation.

“Oh, come on, Tony,” He said. “It’s young love. It’s harmless and adorable.”

“It makes me want to hurl,” Tony retorted.

To onlookers, it may have sounded like Tony was being a real dick, but you knew he was just teasing you. He’d never admit it, but secretly he loved how happy you and Wanda made each other.

“Watch it, Stark,” Your mom shot him a glare. “That’s my kid you’re talking about.”

Your head whipped up at your mom’s voice. She had been on a mission for the past week and wasn’t supposed to get home for another three days.

“Mom!” You yelled as you ran toward her, wrapping your arms around her as you squeezed her tight.

“Hey, kiddo! I’ve missed you!” She said, hugging you back and kissing you lightly on the forehead.

“I’ve missed you, too!”

“As much as I hate to break up this reunion,” Bucky said, causing you to pull away from your mom. “Steve and I slaved over dinner and it’s getting cold, so let’s eat.”

You took your seat at the table—in between Peter and Wanda—and filled your plate with the spaghetti and garlic bread Steve and Bucky made. Everyone was silent as you all dug into your food and, you had to admit, it tasted amazing. 

When Steve and Bucky first moved in, neither of them were allowed near a stove without supervision. They had started too many accidental fires. But after lots and lots of practice, the two of them easily became the best cooks in the tower.

After dinner, you excused yourself to your room. Your phone was still lying face down on the bed, so you grabbed it and opened it up. Right away, you noticed several notifications from twitter. Upon further investigation, you found that the rude comments people were saying about you had extended to your messages. Now, you had complete strangers messaging you about how you needed to ‘lose weight’, or ‘eat less’, or ‘exercise more’. A few of the messages even called you a ‘disappointment to the Avengers’.

You deactivated your account and deleted the app from your phone, but the damage was already done and you knew it. So you came up with a plan and decided to set it into motion the next morning.

✩❀✩❀✩

You woke up in the morning to your alarm blaring. Checking the time, you saw it was 4:30, and you wondered why your alarm was going off so early before you remembered the plan you had made the night before.

You got out of bed and quickly dressed in athletic attire before running out of your room. You knew Steve liked to run in the mornings, so you sat in the kitchen waiting for him.

When he finally sauntered in at 5:00, he was more than surprised to see you sitting there.

“Y/n?” He asked. “What’re you doing up so early?”

“Can I run with you today, Uncle Steve?” You asked him, a pleading look on your face that you knew he couldn’t say no to.

“Yeah, sure,” He said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be sleeping?”

You nodded. 

“I want to start running. My mile time in P.E. class has been slacking lately and I don’t want to fail the class.”

You were surprised yet proud of how quickly you were able to come up with that lie, and you were happy to see that Steve believed every word of it.

So that’s how you spent your morning: running laps with Steve.

The two of you finally called it quits around 6:15 and parted ways. Steve went off to do whatever he did during the days, and you went off to squeeze in a quick shower before school.

By the time you were done with your shower, it was nearly 7:00, which meant you had to rush to get dressed. You finally made it to the kitchen, where Wanda was already waiting for you. The two of you yelled a quick ‘bye’ to whoever was listening before you started the quick walk to the bus stop.

You felt Wanda’s hand interlock with yours and a smile arose on your face as you squeezed her hand. You two didn’t want to publicly disclose your relationship yet, so you knew the minute you reached the bus stop you’d have to let go.

✩❀✩❀✩

At lunch, you sat at a table with Wanda, Peter, MJ, and Ned. You skipped the food line and instead opted to sip at a bottle of water.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Peter asked you.

“What do you mean?” You shot back, not quite sure what he was getting at.

“You’re not eating.”

Shit. You had to think of a lie, and you had to be extra careful since your girlfriend could read minds. She promised you she’d never read your mind without your consent, but you were still wary.

“Uh...I’m just not feeling well,” You said. “My stomach is feeling a little flip-floppy and I don’t want to push it.”

To your luck, they nodded it off and changed the topic, not questioning you again for the rest of the day.

That night at dinner, you pushed the food around on your plate, eating a few bites here and there. It wasn’t hard to pretend you had eaten, especially since your family was so big. Everyone seemed to be so caught up in conversations with other people that they didn’t notice when you got up and scraped your food into the trash.

✩❀✩❀✩

These habits carried on for a few more weeks. You’d wake up every morning to run with Steve, make up some excuse for why you didn’t eat lunch, and you’d have a few bites of dinner before sneakily trashing it. On most weekends, you chose to spend your time training with your mom. You claimed it was so that you could stay sharp with your self-defense skills, and while that wasn’t necessarily a lie, it wasn’t the full truth, either. But your mom never questioned it, and you were glad.

You seemed to fly under the radar, until one Sunday afternoon.

You walked into your room after training with your mom to find Peter and Wanda waiting for you.

“Hey, guys,” You greeted, throwing yourself into a chair and downing half a bottle of water. “What’s up?” 

“We know,” Wanda said, a stern yet concerned look on her face.

“Know what?” You asked her, although you could feel your heart rate rising. You knew what she was talking about.

“That you haven’t been eating,” Peter joined in.

“What’re you talking about? Of course I’ve been eating.”

That was a lie. Your stomach hadn’t been properly filled in weeks and you couldn’t remember the last time it wasn’t rumbling. But that wasn’t important. What was important was the fact that you were finally losing weight. There’s no way you could stop now.

“Cut the crap, y/n,” Peter said, catching you by surprise. “We’ve been watching you. I can’t even remember the last time you bought a school lunch.”

“And you pick at your food at dinner every night,” Wanda added. “I haven’t seen you eat more than three bites. You think no one notices, but you’re wrong. And I can feel you, love. You feel...empty.”

Wanda rested her hand on your knee as you tried to process what was happening. You had been so good at hiding this, how had they found out?

“You guys, I’m—” You started before Peter cut you off.

“Don’t say you’re fine, because you’re not. We know it, and you know it, so please stop lying to us, y/n. We just want to help.”

“I have it under control, I don’t need help,” You protested. “Just...please don’t tell my mom.”

“Y/n—”

“Wanda, please,” You begged. “My mom has enough to worry about as it is. I don’t need to add this to her stress as well. I promise, I have it under control. I’m alright.”

Wanda and Peter shared a look before turning back to you. 

“We’ll keep this between us for now,” Peter said, and you felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders.

“But, if things get any worse, we won’t hesitate to bring your mom into this,” Wanda warned.

You nodded and the two of them left, Wanda kissing you quickly before walking out of the room. 

‘I just need to hide it better’ you thought to yourself. ‘This is all my fault for being too obvious about things. I need to do better.’

Wanda and Peter had dropped the topic for the time being, until a week later, things took a turn for the worse when your P.E. teacher announced that your class was running the mile that day.

Thanks to training with Steve, your mile time had improved and you were one of the fastest in the class. However, due to malnutrition, any sort of exercise made you extremely lightheaded. 

You ignored the part of your brain that was telling you to make up some excuse to sit out. You convinced yourself you just weren’t drinking enough water so you drank an entire water bottle and went to class.

You were about halfway done with your mile when the corners of your vision turned black. You blinked a few times, trying to edge it away, but it was no use. By now, you heard a loud ringing in your ears and the world started spinning around you. You slowed down a bit, trying to regain your composure when you felt your knees buckle underneath you, and you were plunged into a world of darkness, not feeling it when you hit the ground.

✩❀✩❀✩

When you awoke, you were still laying on the field, your entire class swarming around you. You were trying to sit up when you felt something attached to your hand. 

You looked to the right and saw Wanda sitting there, looking scared as hell.

“Miss Maximoff, Mr. Parker, please escort Miss Romanoff to the nurse’s office,” Your teacher ordered.

You felt Wanda help lift you to a standing position and once you were up, you felt the world start spinning again. You shut your eyes tight as two arms, you assumed they belonged to Wanda and Peter, wrapped around either side of your waist. Soon enough, the dizziness ceased and you opened your eyes, signaling for Peter and Wanda to start walking with you.

You made it to the nurse’s station where you saw your mom already waiting.

“Mom?” You asked, wondering how she had gotten to your school so quickly.

“Peter called me the second he saw you fall,” She explained.

You, Wanda, and Peter were dismissed from school early, and your mom led you all back to her car. You sat in the passenger seat while Peter and Wanda sat in the back.

“What happened?” Your mom demanded.

The tone of her voice scared you a little bit, but you knew it was filled more with concern than it was with anger.

“I must’ve just gotten overheated or something,” You lied, knowing exactly why you passed out. “I was doing fine one second, and then the next I was on the ground.”

“That’s not true, Ms. Romanoff,” Peter interjected.

You whipped your head around to him and shook your head, silently pleading him to not tell her.

“What do you mean?” She asked. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“Peter, stop,” You said, panicking at what was about to be said.

“Y/n hasn’t eaten a proper meal in a month,” Wanda admitted.

You shot your girlfriend a look of betrayal before turning back around to face forward.

“You, what?!” Your mom blared. “Y/n, is this true?”

Your silence was enough of an answer for her to understand that yes, it was true.

“Y/n, baby, why?” Your mom said.

You could tell she was trying to be strong, but her voice was cracking.

“Because I’m not like you guys, okay?!” You finally snapped, letting loose all of your pent-up emotions. “I don’t have a super-human metabolism like Peter, and I don’t have a perfectly in-shape body. I’m not an avenger and it sure as hell shows. Even people I don’t even know were making comments about it on twitter.”

“Is that why you disabled your account?” Peter asked, realization hitting him.

You nodded and looked down at your fingers, not wanting to make eye contact with any of them.

By now, you had reached the tower and your mom put the car into park, turning to face you.

“Y/n, I know it’s been hard for you to grow up in the spotlight, constantly being compared to us but this isn’t healthy,” She said, cupping your chin and lightly pulling your head up to meet her gaze. “If I had known all of this, I never would have let you do all those extra training sessions with me. It’s not safe for you to keep exercising like this when you’re not giving your body proper nourishment.”

“I can’t—” You sniffed. “I can’t stop. I need help.”

You felt a tear roll down your cheek as your mom brushed it away, pulling you in for a hug before the four of you got out of the car.

Once inside, your mom told you to sit down in the living room while she left for a few minutes. When she returned, she had the rest of the team with her and you could only assume she had given them the run-down on your situation. 

You were slightly hurt that she had shared your personal life like that, but you knew it was for the best.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Your mom said once everyone was settled. “Y/n, you’re going to help with dinner every night. I know it can be hard once you’ve developed a food phobia, but when you’re in control of what we eat every night it makes things a little easier. No more throwing your food in the trash, okay? As for school, I’ll be making you a homemade lunch each day, and Peter and Wanda will be keeping an eye on you and will be reporting back to me. First thing tomorrow, I’ll call and set you up an appointment with a therapist. Bottling up your emotions will only make things worse, trust me. You need to talk to someone, and a therapist will help to give you healthier coping mechanisms.”

You listened as your mom laid out these new rules before telling you to go lie down. As you got up to leave, you were bombarded with your family hugging you and telling you they were there for you. You honestly had never felt more loved and supported in your life.

You finally made your way to your room, lying down in bed. A few minutes later, you heard a knock at your door.

“Come in,” You said weakly.

The handle turned and Wanda walked in, using her powers to levitate a tray behind her. You sat up and she put the tray down in your lap. On the tray, you saw there was a plate of cheese and crackers.

You looked down at the tray before looking up at your girlfriend. You forced yourself to pick up one of the crackers and take a bite, your mind screaming at you the entire time. But you were sick. You knew this. You wanted to get better.

“I’m sorry for telling your mother,” Wanda spoke. “You were slowly killing yourself and I couldn’t stand by and watch it happen. I’m so sorry, y/n. Can you forgive me?”

“I don’t blame you, Wan,” You told her. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I never should have forced you and Peter to keep this a secret.”

Wanda wrapped you into her arms, squeezing tightly. The two of you stayed like that for a long time before you pulled away and, bite by bite, finished the snack she had brought you.

✩❀✩❀✩

You had been in recovery for about a month now, and while things were far from easy, you knew you could do it. Your family was your support system and they were right there by your side every step of the way.

You were sitting on the couch with Peter and Wanda, you and your girlfriend tangled in each other’s arms as you watched your mom on tv. She was finishing up a press conference.

“Oh, and one last thing before I go,” She spoke toward the camera and the audience. “Whoever decided to make awful comments about my daughter online, I am a trained assassin and I will find you.”

#oneshot #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x daughter reader #wanda maximoff #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu oneshot #wanda maximoff oneshot #wanda maximoff x reader #tw ed talk #tw ed stuff #eating disoder mention

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Love Her: Family Night Timestamp

Summary: The reader is starting to feel left out of her own family and with no one around to talk to, she ends up leaving home. When Dean catches up with her, they figure out the best way to help the reader feel like she belongs again...

Masterlist

Pairing: Doctor!Dean x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 3,800ish

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of abuse

A/N: Enjoy!

______

You sat at the kitchen table, finishing eating dinner alone when you heard the garage door open. A few moments later you watched the twins rush inside, Ana carrying Emma in on her hip and Dean right behind them. He had a styrofoam container in his hands and you knew they’d gone out to eat for dinner.

“Hey kiddo,” he said to you, the twins washing up at the sink. “It’s late guys. Showers and then bed.”

“Dad,” they both groaned.

“Bed guys. It’s nine already. You can read after you wash up if you want,” said Ana. “De, I’m gonna give Emma her bath and put her to bed, okay?”

“Sounds good,” he said. He put the food away and washed up last, glancing over at where you played with the last scraps of your food. “How was school today?”

“Fine,” you said. You picked up your plate and pushed the leftovers into the trash before sticking it in the dishwasher. You turned to go when a hand caught your arm. 

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said, shrugging him off. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t invite you to dinner,” he said.

“Dean, seriously it’s fine,” you said.

“Dean. I haven’t gotten Dean in over a year,” he said. “I know you’ve been pulling away. Don’t try and hide it.”

“I’m twenty years old. You gotta let me be dad,” you said. “I don’t want to do things with a pack of children all the time.”

“Nothing you can say to me will get me to be pissed off at you,” he said. “So stop whatever it is-”

“I’m moving out. I’m moving in with Tommy,” you said. He blinked his eyes and rubbed his temple. “I am twenty. You can’t say a word about it.”

“I thought Tommy was away at training,” he said.

“He is. I’m gonna move in and be there by the time he comes back.”

“What’s going on?” he asked. 

“I want to move in with my boyfriend. What’s-”

“Tommy called me earlier today. He said you haven’t spoken to him all week. Just a quick text and you’re always short with him. He was getting concerned. We’re all getting concerned,” he said. “If I call him right now, is he gonna tell me what you said?”

“Go right ahead,” you said. He pulled out his phone and you walked over to the foyer. Dean made a face at you and you walked outside, climbing into your car and driving off before he knew what hit him.

“Fuck,” you said an hour later, jumping when you saw Dean sit down next to you out of the corner of your eye. 

“Kiddo, you’re scaring me,” said Dean. You played with a piece of grass, Dean bumping your shoulder. “Why are we sitting fifty feet away from the tallest and most isolated bridge in town?”

“Cause I drove until I wanted to stop was all,” you said, ripping the grass into small pieces before picking out another one.

“Are you jealous of the baby?” 

“What? Of course I’m not-”

“Emma takes up a lot of our time, time you used to get. You don’t...we don’t talk to you as much anymore. We see you at night for an hour maybe,” he said.

“I’m twenty.”

“I’m forty two, who gives a fuck,” he said. “Baby, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m not your baby.”

“Yeah, you are. I adopted you. You’re my daughter whether you like it or not,” he said.

“Maybe I don’t like it anymore,” you said. You stood up and walked back onto the path, following it about a quarter across the bridge when a strong arm grabbed you. “Dean seriously, get-”

“Sit your ass down,” he said. He tugged you down to the hard wood planks and your bottom lip wobbled as you looked up at him. He knelt down and sighed, frowning when you flinched away from him. “I’m so stupid. It’s the anniversary. It’s an event anniversary.”

“What?” you said. He sat down on his bottom and held his arms out, letting you come to him before he pulled you into his chest.

“When your dad hurt you. It’s two years ago tonight,” he said. “For some people, it can trigger PTSD and the days surrounding it. Shit, I thought you were gonna jump off a freaking bridge.”

“Dad, no, I wouldn’t. I’d never hurt you like that,” you said. He nodded and you sat with him, letting him rub a hand up and down your back. 

“When’d the nightmares start?” he asked quietly.

“Three weeks ago,” you said. “Tommy’s been away and he’s so tired at the end of the day and stressed about doing school still while at training. He’s always way too tired. You’re so busy with Emma all the time. I didn’t want to bother you. It was just nightmares.”

“Look at me,” he said. You wearily lifted your head up, his hand cupping your cheek. “I don’t care if you are seventy years old. You always talk to me. You will never in your life bother me. Emma is your baby sister but she is not more important than you. She might need me more right now in life but she will never be more important. You ever feel like this, you come to me or Ana, you call Uncle Sam, you call anybody. We will make sure Emma is taken care of that way Ana and I can take care of you.”

“I’m not a baby though,” you said.

“Sweetie, I had a near mental breakdown when I was older than you after Jo and the baby. I had to be reminded to feed myself. I wasn’t a baby either and I needed all the help I could get. I need you to understand that you may be twenty, you may be an adult, but you will always be my child. You come to me and I will help you, always. But you gotta come to me, kiddo.”

“I got scared,” you said.

“Of me?”

“I didn’t want you to get rid of me cause I had problems again. I always had problems and I’ve been okay for a while,” you said. “I just...if my other dad could wind up so horrible just like that, maybe you would...ask me to go cause it was too much with Emma. You shouldn’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“I worry about you every day. I’ve worried every day since I met you,” he said. You nodded and took a deep breath, Dean pulling the two of you up to your feet. He put his arms around you and sat you both down on a nearby bench, kissing the top of your head. “Talk to me, kiddo. What’s going on that made you feel like this?”

“Dad, it was like you said. It’s cause it’s when that night happened and-”

“That was the trigger. It’s not what you’re feeling. I saw your face when we came home. You felt left out,” he said.

“Dad, you’re young. You’re still so young and Ana is young and you have this young family with a baby and the twins are only nine and I’m...I don’t fit in. I want to be an adult and everything that comes with it but sometimes I just wish I could tell mom and dad all my problems and they’d disappear. I wish I fit in with everyone. I wish I wasn’t so fucked up in the head that I believe the lies it tells me and I turn into that mean kid that came here again when all that mean kid wanted was a dad. I’m just…”

“You need a break, kiddo. You need to be a kid and you gotta learn that a bit,” he said. “You know my friend Dr. Ellis? Wylie?”

“Yeah?”

“He’s a psychologist. He has a certification in childhood development,” he said.

“You want to send me to a kid shrink,” you said.

“I would like for the both of us to go talk to my friend who specializes in adult cases like yours for one session. If you like it, we’ll go back. If you can’t stand it, we’ll try something else. I was always shit at the psych stuff,” he said.

“Dad don’t make me go,” you said.

“I’m going with. If I go be vulnerable in there will you give it a chance for me?” he asked. You shrugged and he rubbed your arm. “Please, sweetheart?”

“Fine,” you sighed. 

“Alright. Why don’t we get out of the cold and head home?” he asked. You stood up and he followed after, stilling when you stopped. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, about tonight and everything,” you said.

“Don’t apologize. Come on, let’s head home and we’ll stay up late with Ana watching movies like we used to. We’ll have some fun, I promise.”

Five Days Later

“Hey guys, sorry for the wait,” said Wylie as he entered the office. You had your arms crossed and were sat back on the couch, Dean sitting on the edge of the cushion. “Y/N, nice to see you again.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, Wylie taking a seat in a chair, crossing his legs and giving you a smile.

“Last time you spoke to a therapist was when you were nearly eighteen. I read over some of your old files. I found them quite interesting,” he said.

“I bet you did,” you said, turning to stare out the window. 

“Y/N, don’t be rude.”

“Dean, no offense but I’m in charge, not you. I don’t give a shit about fake manners. I’d much rather have some honesty. So. You got pretty good about lying to the therapists when you were around fourteen. I’m going to guess you got some regular internet access around then? School library?”

“Local library,” you said, Dean turning his head. “He’s saying I used to lie to the kid shrinks because I told them what they wanted to hear because I could look up stuff online.”

“Why would you do that?” asked Dean.

“Because the last thing you want in that system is to get a mentally fucked up label slapped on top of everything else,” you said. “Is that what you found interesting, Wylie?”

“You are very defensive which is. You’re a very sweet young woman on every other interaction we’ve had together. This is good. I’m not gonna get the bulllshit those other therapists did which I’m very happy for. So. Why don’t you tell me why you think your father is going to abandon you and wants you out of your own family?”

You gave him a glare, Wylie giving you a smirk.

“Wanna cut to the real shit? We can do that. Why do you want to be a little kid again?”

“I don’t want-” you said, Wylie raising an eyebrow.

“You want to be loved and taken care of like a child, like your siblings.”

“I do not want to be treated like a child,” you scoffed. “That is ridiculous.”

“So if you could grow up with a father like Dean, you wouldn’t want that?” said Wylie.

“Of course I would want it. But-“

“So you do want to be like a kid again.”

“That’s not what I said. I-“

“Dean. Since Y/N’s ever been with you, or since she returned to live with you, have you ever treated her like a child?” asked Wylie.

“Of course I did,” said Dean. Wylie shook his head and Dean tilted his. “Yes I-“

“Y/N, your childhood had an abrupt stopping point and even before that it was tumultuous. It’s very simple. You see it everyday with your younger siblings. You crave a sliver of that kind of relationship. The anniversary of your abusive father’s actions brought up a lot of feelings and your boyfriend being gone, your family doing things without you, it caused a reaction of sorts. An overload of emotions, no one to turn to and all you want is Dean to make you feel better like he did that awful night.”

“You’re a very assumptive doctor,” you said.

“Am I wrong?” he asked.

“Yeah, you are. I don’t want him to make my lunch and put my hair in pigtails or any of the other shit you-“

“I never said you want him to do things for you. What I did say was you want the emotional support a child gets. It changes as children grow and become independent but you, you never got to experience it. A part of you craves being able to be able to go to Dean and he’ll make it all better. But you’ve got it stuck in your head that you’re too old to have a good old cry session with dad or get a hug and cuddle. You think there’s a socially acceptable amount of time for that sort of thing and since your life has been going okay, you can’t go to dad anymore even though you desperately need to. How am I doing so far?”

“You’re full of shit,” you said.

“Y/N, it’s been awhile since...maybe Tommy’s close call was the last time we had a real open conversation like we used to,” said Dean. “You’ve been pulling away ever since Emma came home really.”

“Don’t want to bother dad? Think he’s got his hands full?” asked Wylie. You stood up and Wylie stared up at you. “Sit down.”

“I’m done. I-“

“You’re done when I say you are,” said Wylie. He got to his feet and stuck his face in yours. “Sit your ass down.”

“What the fuck kind of therapist-“

“One that knows a scared kid when he sees one. If you want to hug your dad, hug your fucking dad. If you want his attention, tell him you want to spend time with him. He has an obligation to you that doesn’t end because you’re an adult. The love part never ends. Tell him what you need and I guarantee he gives it to you.”

You sat down slowly, staring at the ground for a moment.

“Kid, I’ve done this long enough to know what buttons to press to get you talking. We all know you don’t want to be treated like a child. You’re an adult and you deserve to be treated like one. It doesn’t mean you still can’t be a child. Dean is still a child to his parents. I’m still a child to mine. If you want something or need something, you just need to ask. So. What do you need from Dean?”

“I don’t know,” you said. You started to pick at your nail, Dean reaching over and holding your hand. “I don’t know. I wish I did.”

“Is it Emma?” he asked and you shook your head. “It’s okay if-”

“Dean, I love her. You deserve to have a baby you made. I know that was a big deal for you.”

“Do you feel left out of the family?” asked Wylie. 

“Sometimes,” you said quietly.

“Honey-”

“Let her talk, Dean. Go on.”

“I know I’m...independent and life stuff kinda forced me to be that way. Normally I’m okay with things being that way but I was just lonely this week I guess and it got to me.”

“Do you feel lonely often?” asked Wylie. 

“Sometimes. It’s not that bad. I like it sometimes. But sometimes it just...makes me...god this is embarrassing.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about at all,” said Dean.

“I don’t want to be alone again. The two years I was away from you and the twins were horrible. I can’t be alone like that again. I know I’m not anymore but you’re just busy with the other guys or Ana a lot. I don’t...I just miss you. We don’t spend time together anymore.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” said Wylie. You looked down and watched Dean tug on your bracelet. “What is that? I see you both have them.”

“I made the one Y/N has for the baby, the one with Jo. Was meant to be a gift I could pass down to my first kid. So I did. Y/N made one for me a few years later.”

“You two will be just fine,” said Wylie with a smile. “Your actions are louder than your words with you guys. My suggestion, for both your benefits, would be to set aside some time each week to spend with one another. Maybe you have Sunday dinner together, maybe you go for a walk. Just do something to spend time with one another, where Y/N can get some attention. Make it part of your routine and I think that’ll benefit you both greatly.”

“I think we can do that,” said Dean. “Definitely.”

Sunday Night

“Hey,” said Dean, leaning over the back of the couch after dinner. “I know we said we’d make Sunday nights our us time and all but I have a surprise for you this week if you’re interested.”

“Weren’t we gonna watch a movie?” you asked, leaning back.

“We’ll watch it later. You stay up until midnight anyways. Change into some workout clothes,” he said.

“What are we doing?” you asked.

“We never picked up our boxing. I figured that was something we both liked doing together. We’re gonna go to a real gym. What do you say?”

“Yeah. That was fun,” you said with a smile. “Give me ten minutes to get ready.”

“Nice right hook,” said an older guy as he walked past you punching a bag. You stopped and took a few deep breaths, Dean giving the guy a nod. “Hey. This your kid Winchester?”

“She sure is. Damian, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Damian. He’s one of the trainers here.”

“Convinced your old man to try it out when he was stitching an eyebrow for me back in the day. I don’t see you around much anymore, Winchester.”

“Home gym plus a baby,” he said with a smile. “Y/N and I used to practice together. She only had a few months practice but she’s got a knack for it.”

“You fight?” he asked you and you shook your head. “Do you want to?”

“No, she is never getting in a ring. This is purely for fun,” said Dean.

“Can she hit some mats in the ring? It’s free for the moment. Come on, it’s fun. Floor’s a bit bouncy too. Dad can’t say no that,” he said.

“Fine, fine,” said Dean. You followed him up to the steps, bending between the ropes he held for you, Dean coming up with a set of mats for his hands. 

“Alright. Show me what you got,” said Damian. Dean put the mats on and held them up, giving you a nod. You shot your arms out a few times, Damian nodding to himself. “You grew up rough.”

“Huh?” you said, slamming your glove against the pad.

“You throw angry punches. I see a lot of kids like that. Lift that back heel up more.”

You turned and threw a harder punch, trying for an uppercut before you took a break.

“You got some technique. You can build on that, get your body stronger, hit harder,” he said. 

“She’s not fighting,” said Dean again.

“She’s not fighting a person but she can still fight a bag. You know what that’s like,” he said. You looked between the two of them and Dean put his hands back up. “Come on kid. A few more rounds and then dad can take a turn.”

“Dad,” you asked on the drive home from the gym. You were stopped at a red light and he hummed. “Did you ever do a real boxing fight?”

“A few times. Even with the headgear nearly got a concussion so I stuck to the things that don’t hit back after that. I know it sounds fun sweetheart and technically I can’t stop you but I really don’t want-”

“I don’t want to try a real fight or anything. Just what that Damian guy said made me wonder.”

“I picked up boxing after Jo. Months later but that’s when I learned about it. I did a few fights and went back to the bag.”

“Oh. I thought it was more recent from what he said.”

“I went once, after Paula took you. Didn’t go well.”

“What happened?”

“Convinced Damian to have a go with me in the ring. I think I lasted about three seconds?” he chuckled. “I haven’t gone back too much since.”

“Why? I mean he does that for a living. There’s no way you’d win.”

“Honestly, I wanted to lose. I couldn’t keep you home where you belonged. I will never forget the way you looked at me that night. I thought I deserved to get my ass kicked.”

“That’s stupid.”

“So was the stunt you pulled last week,” he said. “We haven’t talked liked this in a while. It’s good. I like this again.”

“Don’t be stupid like that again?” you asked.

“I won’t if you won’t.”

“Okay,” you said with a nod.

“Okay then.” He was quiet for a while until he eventually pulled into the driveway and shut the car off. “I’m gonna be better from now on. I promise.”

“We were both stupid. It’s okay,” you said. “Can we go back to the gym next week?”

“Of course. You still like it?”

“I always liked it cause it was something we did together,” you said. “So yeah, I still like it.”

“Good. Want to go inside and wash up before we watch a movie or something?”

“Sounds good to me, dad.”

“Me too, sweetheart.”

________

#spn #supernatural #dean x foster daughter!reader #dean winchester #doctor!dean #dean x reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #au #dean fanfiction

[softholand]

pot valiant - t.h

pairing: bartender!tom x reader

summary: pot-valiant, definition; bold or courageous under the influence of alcoholic drink

warnings: drinking, swearing, smut, dom!tom

words: 4.3k

a/n: i did it!!! bartender!tom was always present in my mind and after that picture (thanks paddy!!) i couldn’t help myself ;))) i hope you guys like this and please let me know what you think <3 enjoy!!

Two weeks, three days, 5 hours, and 22 seconds. That was the time your best friend Briana gave you to mourn your last failed relationship. Once that time had passed, she broke into your house, made you take a much necessary shower, forcing you to shave and wash your hair, while she took care of the mess that was your house. Plastic food containers and cans of beer and Coca-Cola littered both the kitchen and the living room floor, making the house smell like a garbage can.

“Glad to see you’re still alive!” Briana cheered after you got out of the shower, wearing your fluffy robe. “I am but barely. Wow, what did you do to my house?” You asked, being met with a completely different scenario from the one you left.

“I just put out the trash, y/n! Something you should have done before.” Briana scolded you, making you roll your eyes. “Should have waited and put me out too, since I feel like trash!” You groaned, flopping down on your sofa.

“Hey, no, no, no! Get up, y/n! We’re going out!” Your best friend announced, before trying to make you stand. “Noooo, please, Bri! I’ll do anything you want, but that!” You pleaded, but it was of no use. “I don’t wanna hear it, y/n! I didn’t come here to clean your house, I came to take you out of here and that’s what I’m gonna do.” Briana stated, taking your hands.

“Bri, I love you, but please let me stay just a little longer, I’m not ready for the outside world yet.” You groaned, trying your best to convince your best friend. “y/n, I love you too, that’s why I’m here! I can’t stand seeing you like this anymore! Yeah, what Tyler did to you was fucked up, but that doesn’t mean you have to stop living your life because of it.” Briana exclaimed.

“I know, Bri! I know! It’s just… hard for me to wrap my head around the fact he ditched me after all this time and that I’m single now.” You sighed, starting to feel emotional. At that, Briana pulled you closer and wrapped her arms around you, engulfing you in one of her best hugs. “I’m sorry, y/n! I didn’t mean to make you cry again.” Bri apologized, making you chuckle through your tears. “It’s okay, Bri! It’s not your fault, really. I’m just… a mess!” You laughed, drying your face with the robe sleeves.

“One drink. We get one drink and if you still don’t wanna stay after that, we leave. I promise!” Your friend offered, with hopeful eyes. “Fine! One drink!” You sighed, to which she squealed. “Yes! Thank you, y/n! You’re not gonna regret it! I’ve found this new club, it opened just a couple of weeks ago. You’re gonna love it!” She grinned. “Now, go put on your best outfit, we’re going out!” Briana squealed, making you laugh at her excitement.

About an hour later and after a whole lot of makeup and trying on clothes, Briana finally decided you were done with what she called: a Cinderella transformation. Of course, you laughed at her choice of words, and to irritate your friend, even more, you asked if you also should be back at midnight. She gave you the middle finger, before giving up and joining you in laughter.

After a quick cab ride, that could be done by feet, not with the heels you two were wearing though, you and Briana were at the new club she talked about. Once inside, you had to admit your best friend was right. The place looked like a mix of everything you enjoyed, the walls were coated in a beautiful shade of red, while the lounge area was filled with dark green sofas. Different from the other places you had been to, the bar on this one was positioned right in the middle, with bar stools in that same dark green velvet texture, rounding the space. The dim light that filled the space gave a mysterious/sensual vibe, something you were also a fan of.

Briana immediately dragged you to the bar, waiting patiently for one of the many bartenders. While she made her request, you took the time to scan the place, noting some artsy bits that complemented the space. “What can I get you?” A smooth masculine voice took you out of your daze, making you avert your attention to him. Right in front of you, a gorgeous boy with hazel eyes and chocolatey brown curls grinned at you, waiting for your answer. What was even the question?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” You apologized, making his smile grow even more. “I asked what can I get you tonight, darling?” He asked, making you smile with the nickname. “Oh, uh… a daiquiri, please!” You finally said, not being able to avert his gaze. “Good choice! I’ll be right back, girls!” He smirked, before going to the enormous wall of beverages behind him.

Once he was out of earshot, Briana lightly kicked your bare leg, getting your attention. “Isn’t he hot?” She mouthed, making you roll your eyes. “Really, Bri? Already?” Shaking your head, you went back to looking at your surroundings. “Oh, c’mon y/n! A woman has to eat!” Briana joked, making you both burst out laughing.

Seconds later, hot guy was back, this time with two cocktail shakers in his hands. Like every bartender in the world, he made his presentation while pouring the ingredients into the containers, making sure to really flex his arms while shaking it. Not that you noticed.

With two glasses in front of you, he poured the drinks in, doing the finishing touches before serving them to you. “Two pretty drinks for two pretty ladies, enjoy!” He smirked, before going back to his business. “Oh God, he only gets better!” Briana jokingly fanned herself, making you laugh. “He’s just doing his job, Bri! How many times do you think he used that one?” You asked your friend, who rolled her eyes at you. “You’re no fun!” She groaned, putting her tongue out.

Briana was only halfway through her Cosmopolitan when one of her favorite songs started to play. She made everything in her power to make you go with her but you denied her offer, stating you were fine watching her from the bar. With her drink in her hands, she made her way into the dance floor, purposely shaking her booty at you, which made you laugh and almost choke on your barely touched drink.

“Not into dancing?” The same voice from minutes ago asked, startling you. “Oh, no! Not today, at least!” You shrugged, offering him a smile. “So, what brought you and your friend here? I’m Tom, by the way!” He asked, cleaning the surface in front of him, making the watch he wore catch the fluorescent lights of the club. “y/n! And to be honest, she dragged me here.” You told him, giving into their usual small talks. “Wanna talk about it? I’m a pretty damn good listener!” He offered you with a smile.

You took a deep breath, asking yourself if it was really a good idea to share a part of your life with a stranger, and since you weren’t going to step foot on the dance floor, you thought this was the next most reasonable thing to do. Right? “Well, I was into a two-year relationship that ended a couple of weeks ago, and apparently staying inside your house, eating takeout food, and crying over stupid romantic movies is not a very healthy thing to do, so today she went to my house and here I am.” You smiled, taking a sip of your drink.

Once you looked at Tom, he gave you a pitiful look, to which you shrugged. “That’s not even the worst part though.” You said, the alcohol in your system already making the choices for you. “Instead of calling me or sending me a text asking to talk, you know, like a normal person, he invited me to his parents’ tenth-anniversary party and broke up with me in front of his whole family, claiming I wasn’t what he wanted in a relationship anymore.” With a raise of your glass, you finished your sad story, downing the rest of your daiquiri.

“Damn, what a dick!” Tom breathed after a couple of seconds, making you chuckle. “Oh, well! Cheers to single life, I guess…” You said, raising your now empty glass. “Need a refill?” He asked, pointing to the glass on your hands. “Please!” You huffed, before thanking him. “What will it be now?” Tom smirked, seeing your thinky face. “I don’t know, something strong.” He nodded, giving you two thumbs-ups, before going back to the wall to collect the ingredients.

Once the song ended, Briana came back to you and you two chatted until Tom came back with your drink, waiting for your approval. “It’s good! I like it! Thanks, Tom!” You smiled, locking eyes with him. “Do you want a refill too, darling?” He asked Briana, to which she said a beer would be fine. Once he was off, you felt your best friend's eyes burning a hole in your skull. “What?” You asked, impatiently. “We’re already on a name basis then?” Briana smirked, making you roll your eyes at her. “Yeah, I mean, he introduced himself, what did you want me to do?” You snapped and that was enough to her smirk double in size. “Okay, girl! You sure you don’t want to go home then?” She asked you for what felt like the fifth time. “Yes, Bri! I’m good! I promise!” You assured your best friend before she once again was off to the dance floor.

You quietly took sips of your new strawberry drink, watching from afar as your friend seemed to get her eyes on a specific guy for the night. She gave you a wink, making you roll your eyes at her antics. “She seems to be enjoying herself.” You heard Tom’s voice, turning the barstool to find him looking at you. “Yeah, she always does!” You agreed, taking another sip of your drink. “So, you’re from here?” He asked, sounding interested. “Yeah, I’m a local! You?” You said, raising your brows. “Same!” He smiled, going right to the next question.

The conversation kept going for most of the night, Tom attended some clients, while you took sips of your drinks, and once he was free, he was right back at you with another round of questions. Seeing as Briana wasn’t by your side anymore, you welcomed his company, glad at least this way you wouldn’t be left alone. “Museologist? I’ve never heard that before!” He grinned, making you chuckle. “Yeah, it’s not very common. Basically what I do is investigate and preserve material cultural stuff, like paintings, sculptures or constructions and immaterial, such as traditions and folklore.” You answered and Tom couldn’t help but find adorable the way your eyes lit up while you talked.

Briana came back after a couple more songs, sitting by your side and asking Tom another beer. “So, found your prey?” You joked, making her laugh. “Actually, I did! See that blonde? With the samurai bun?” She pointed and you nodded once your eyes landed on him. “Nice, Bri!” You complemented, giving her a playful high five. “Right? And he’s so sweet and smart and funny! He even asked me if I wanted to go to his house.” She blurted, seemingly disappointed. “And?” You asked, not getting why she reacted that way. “Oh, no! I’m not leaving you. I dragged you here so I’m taking you home.” Briana exclaimed, to which you rolled your eyes. “Bri, I’m totally able to call a cab and go home by myself. I’m fine, I promise! You can go with Mr. Samurai bun if you want.” You assured her, seeing her eyes widen. “No, y/n/n! I promised you!” She protested, making you groan. “I’m fine, Bri! Go with him!” Once again, you insisted. “Are you sure?” She asked and you had to laugh at her. “I’m not a child, Bri! Now go, he’s not going to wait all night!” You teased, getting a hug and a kiss on the cheek from your friend before she was off.

“Lost your friend?” Tom asked once he was back from his bartender duties. “Yeah, it's just me now and I think I’ll actually call it a night and go home.” You told him, making him frown. “Hey, not to sound creepy or anything but are you going by yourself? Because that’s not very safe and my shift ends in like ten minutes. If you want, I can accompany you.” With hopeful eyes, the boy in front of you smiled, making your heart flutter just a tiny bit. You thought about leaving a stranger accompanied you home, you really did, but something in your gut told you it was fine, Tom was a good guy and would never do anything to harm you. So, you went with it. “Yeah, that would be great, actually.” You smiled and ten minutes later, you were both leaving the club, at 3:30 in the morning.

Tom offered to call a cab but seeing as your house was only a few minutes away, you asked if it was okay for him that you guys walked. He agreed and with the moon illuminating your steps, the pair of you made your way into the almost silent streets. You guys kept talking and occasionally your hands would brush on one another, which caused little butterflies to erupt in your stomach. Once in front of your apartment building, you stopped, having no idea what to do next, since you were in a relationship for the last two years.

“It was nice meeting and talking to you, Tom!” You said, opting for the easiest way out. “Yeah, the feeling is mutual, y/n!” He answered, stuffing both of his hands in his pockets. “Thank you for… listening.” You mumbled, making him chuckle. “Of course! Whenever you need!” He smiled, not moving a muscle. “I’ll see you around, then. Bye!” With a little wave of your hand, you made your way to the door, while Tom watched you from his place. “Sure! Bye, y/n!” He exclaimed, making you smile, finally entering the building.

That’s how you found yourself going back to that same club every Friday, getting a couple of drinks while talking to Tom, then being escorted home by him. You had been doing this for almost a month now and Briana was starting to get suspicious. It was Friday again and she had just called you while you finished getting ready. “So, any plans for tonight?” She asked, already predicting your answer. “Not really, just gonna get some drinks and head home.” You said while clasping your black sandals. “Tom’s gonna bring you home again?” You sighed, already knowing where this conversation was heading. “I don’t know, Bri! If he wants to.” You looked in the mirror for the last time, before taking your bag and heading out. Once Briana finally hung up, you threw your phone into your purse, getting into the cab.

The routine was the same, you got in, spotted Tom, sat in one of the many barstools, and waited for him to approach you. “What can I get this beautiful lady today?” He joked, a smile wide on his face. Today he was wearing a simple black shirt, tight around his muscles, the watch still sat proudly on his wrist, and his curls were a little bit messier than most days. “You know you don’t have to waste your pickup lines with me, Tom.” You smiled, watching his reaction. “Okay then, what can I get this grumpy old lady today?” He smirked, making you chuckle. “A Sex On The Beach, please?!” You grinned and after a quick wink, he was off.

The rest of the night passed like magic, you didn’t even see the time pass and once you took a look at your phone, you saw that it was almost time for Tom’s shift to end, which meant it was time to head home. The chilly London air hit as soon as you stepped out of the club, making you shiver, seeing as you were only in a dress. Like the gentleman he was, Tom took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders, and although you protested, saying he was going to catch a cold, he assured you he was fine with his shirt.

You didn’t know what you were thinking when the words “Do you wanna come inside?” came out of your mouth but now was definitely too late to take them back. “Oh, yeah! Sure!” Tom agreed, making you smile. The short lift ride was awkward and once you walked into your apartment, the feeling only grew. Tom stayed pretty close to the door, with both of his hands in his pockets, while you put your purse away and turned on the lights. “Welcome and sorry for the mess.” You said, going back to the living room. Tom just smiled, before saying, “You call this messy? You should see my house!” You both laughed and the tension was back in the air. “Do you want anything? Water, wine, beer?” You offered, taking off your shoes and his jacket, putting the both away. “Water would be good.” He said and you quickly made your way to the kitchen, shaking your head to try and get rid of some very intrusive thoughts.

“Thanks!” He smiled, taking the glass from your hands, while your eyes kept focused on his arm and the prominent veins and the way his shirt was almost being ripped by his bicep. “y/n? You here?” Tom’s voice brought you back, making your face grow hot with the knowledge you got caught. “Yes, sorry!” You apologized, watching as his smirk grew in size. He placed the cup on the small table by your door, before taking a couple of steps closer. Slowly, as if testing the waters, he put his hands on your hips, leaning the smallest bit in, not taking that stupid smirk off of his face.

His smell was intoxicating, the mixture of alcohol and mint was definitely making your mind clouded. “Tom…” You whispered once he was only centimeters away from you. “What is it, y/n?” He asked, looking between your eyes and your lips. “Kiss me!” You almost pleaded, his smirk the last thing you saw before his lips were crashing into yours. The feeling was new, you hadn’t kissed anyone since your ex-boyfriend and you couldn’t help but compare them. Tom’s was so much better though, his lips could be thin but they held so much power on them, his mouth worked like magic against yours, and before you knew he was pulling away, completely breathless. The pause didn’t last long though, he looked so good with his lips plumped, the tiniest of the smirks still proudly on them, you just couldn’t help yourself and launched yourself at him.

You backed him against the wall, moaning when you felt his tongue entering your mouth. Tom placed both of his hands on your ass, squeezing it before asking, “Bedroom?” Without breaking the kiss, you pointed in the direction of your room and before you knew it, he was carrying you in his arms. You squealed, wrapping your legs around his torso, before going back to his lips. He placed you on the bed, making a trail of kisses from your neck, all the way to your stomach. Once he positioned himself between your tights, he looked at you with his bright brown eyes, asking if he could take your dress off. You nodded and after a little bit of a struggle, he took the thin material out of your body, leaving you in just a pair of white underwear. “You’re so beautiful!” He whispered, going back to your lips and attacking them with kisses. “Tom, please…” You moaned, growing even more eager to feel him. “What do you want, darling?” He smirked, loving seeing you like that. “You, I want you!” With a shake on your voice, you pleaded and he finally took the clue and went to work.

After another confirmation from you, he discarded your panties, tracing his fingers through your now soaked folds. “You look amazing, y/n!” Tom breathed before going straight to your core. You let out a moan as soon as his lips touched you, making your whole body shake with pleasure. “And tastes amazing too!” He purred, focusing on his task. Your moans only grew louder when he pushed two of his slender fingers on your heat. “Fuck, Tom! Feels so good!” You blurted, not being able to control yourself. “That’s it, baby! I can feel your walls clenching around my fingers. Tell me how much do you wanna cum.” Tom whispered, making you clench even more, only by his words. “Wanna cum, Tom! Please…” You were never this talkative in bed and not once has a guy been this dominant with you but you couldn’t say you weren’t enjoying it. “Cum for me, baby! Wanna hear you scream my name!” He mumbled and finally lost control. Your whole body shook with pleasure and you had to contain yourself from closing your thighs around Tom’s head.

Once you came back from your high, you opened your eyes to find Tom already looking at you, with some of your wetness still glistening on his chin. “You alright?” He asked, concern coating his words. “Yeah!” You smiled, before going back to his lips. With a quick move, you straddled him, helping him take off his shirt, letting his chest perfectly exposed for you. You lowered yourself, leaving a trail of kisses on his jaw, neck, collarbones, chest, each one of his abs, and finally, his perfectly sculpted v line. “Are you sure? You don’t have to, I’ll be perfectly fine by just giving...” You interrupted his mumbling by attaching your lips to his, hoping it would be his answer.

With the rest of his clothes discarded, you couldn’t help but admire his body. He was perfect. Sculpted by the gods, even. After wetting your hands, you took his cock, pumping a few times before attaching your lips to it. You twirled your tongue, tasting his precum, feeling him grow harder and harder on your hands. “Holy shit, you feel so good, y/n!” His words of encouragement were enough for you to start moving your head up and down, taking his member into your mouth inch by inch, until he was bucking his hips. “Fuck! You’re bloody amazing, darling!” He praised, while making direct eye contact with you, “But if you want more, you better stop before I coat your throat with my cum.” You had to admit, his dirty talk was doing something to you.

Releasing his cock with a loud pop, you climbed on top of him, kissing his lips. “Do you have a condom?” He asked between kisses. “Bedside table, first draw.” You answered and after a loud smack on your ass, you got off of him, both of you wearing playful smiles on your faces. Tom opened the foil package and rolled the material into his member, positioning himself at your entrance. “You sure you wanna do this?” He asked, making sure you wanted this as much as he did. “Yes, Tom! I want you to fuck me!” You said, kissing his lips.

With both of his hands on your hips and a huge smirk on his face, he pushed himself into you, making you moan. It took you a few seconds to get used to him and once you nodded, Tom started to move, bringing another level of pleasure to your body. “Fuck! You’re so tight around me, y/n!” He whispered, biting your earlobe. “Tom, fuck me harder!” You pleaded, wanting nothing more than to be railed by him. That seemed to take Tom by surprise but he was quick to obey your wish, thrusting harder and harder into your soaking wet core. “You look so beautiful like that, all sweaty, begging me for more!” He kept praising you, feeling how much you liked when he did.

With both of his arms by your head, he caged you, tattooing your face with kisses. “Feel so good, Tom! Please, make me cum!” You mumbled, by now barely able to form sentences. Tom was quick to obey and once his fingers found your clit, rubbing small circles in it, you were gone. Toes curling, you arched your back, getting a handful of the mattress in one hand while the other scratched Tom’s back. “Fuck, y/n!” With a final thrust of his hips, Tom reached his high, moaning your name like it was the most beautiful prayer.

He collapsed on top of you, leaving a long kiss on your lips, before getting up and tossing the condom on the trash. You went to the bathroom to clean yourself up, seeing as you were too tired to take a shower, and asked him if he wanted that too. He agreed and once you were decent enough, you put on clean panties and his discarded shirt, asking him to join you on the bed. Of course, he accepted, he wasn’t planning to go anywhere either so, after putting his boxers back on, he climbed on the bed with you.

You quickly doze off but right before you did, you admitted to yourself that, like most of the time, Briana was right, and going to that new club wasn’t a bad idea after all.

tagging: @stuckonspidey @bi-writes @duskholland @screamholland @missnxthingg @tomhollandthing @wazzupmrstark @peeterparkr @veryholland @spideyspeaches-deactivated20221 @lauras-collection @tommybaholland @rebekkah4766 @hopelessromm @pensivepeter @geminiparkers @mrs-hollandstan @hollandcreep @uglypastels

#my writing #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland one shot #tom holland fic #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x fem #bartender!tom #bartender!tom x reader #tom holland writing

[weasleytwinwheezes]

Without You |DM|

Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Inspired by: Therefore I am by Billie Eilish

Summary: after months of healing from her breakup with Draco, y/n finally moves on but it seems as though Malfoy wants her back

part two

Warnings: angst and some cussing

Word Count: 1.5k

Authors note: first Draco fic! I’m a total simp for him but I would also very much like to cuss him out lol

Flashbacks are in bold italics!

~taglist~ @lilgoddesshines @the-unmanaged-mischief @thefifthweasley

“You’re crazy to ever believe that you ever meant anything at all to me,” he spat at you. Each word cutting you to the bone.

“You’re so damn beautiful, Y/N. You mean the whole world to me,” he whispered, snuggling into your neck.

Looking into his bloodshot eyes, the color seemed to have drained away. Leaving nothing but two dead eyes staring back at you.

“Liar,” you choked out, fully aware of the tears spilling down your cheeks.

“You really love me?” you shyly asked, staring into his soft grey eyes.

“I promise with all of me, my dear,” he reassured you, lips already on yours.

A harsh laugh ripped throughout the air, “Liar? Trust me darling, that's the only truthful thing that’s came out of my mouth in months.”

Your chest felt heavy and you could feel your lungs struggling to catch a breath. The ache that filled your heart was spreading throughout your body as you watched him turn down the stairs. The stone was cold underneath you as you sat in the place that once held your happiest memories with him. The two of you had made the Astronomy Tower your ‘spot’ and now it would forever be tarnished with the memories of the awful words he had spoken. Now laying down the sobs racked your body, half-hearted screams watched throughout the empty stairwell. Where you silently hoped he could hear every last one of them.

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Numb.

That’s all you truly felt. No other word quite summed it up. You had finally stopped crying after what felt like weeks. You still however searched for his hair in crowds but your eyes no longer started to tear up whenever you heard the sound of his voice. Unfortunately, you still saw him in classes and the common room. Until now, you had never hated being a Slytherin.

The day after things had ended, he showed up to breakfast with Pansy fuckin’ Parkinson. Desperate for just an ounce of his affection, she had wound herself around him like the slimy snake she was. A cocky smile sent your way was enough to cause you to sprint out of the Great Hall. You spent most of the day in Myrtle's bathroom, listening to her trash talk about Pansy while you cried to her.

“She really looks like she got hit square in the face as a child. Possibly with a brick,” Myrtle laughed out.

Her snide remarks about the pair of them, is the only reason you didn’t pack your bags to go home. Which, frankly, you had definitely considered after the embarrassment of it all. Honestly, you hadn’t even had the chance to tell your friends and he does that? Mortified didn’t even cover how you felt.

Looking back at that day brought a sour taste to your mouth. Thankfully, your two best friends stuck by your side the entire time. Knowing they could say ‘I told you so’ at any moment filled you with dread, because they did tell you. But Hermione and Ginny just held you while you cried. They made you shower after the third day of just laying in bed. They both kept snacks in their bags after they noticed you no longer eating at meals. They practically forced you to start sitting at the Gryffindor table during meal times. If it wouldn’t have been for them, you would have just wasted away.

“Oi, space cadet? Where were you?” Ginny teased, but you could see the worry etched along her face.

“As Luna would say, I was far away from here,” you responded, absentmindedly stirring the tea that sat in front of you.

“Is it bad today?” questioned Hermione with soft eyes.

“It’s okay. I’m okay, really guys,” you sincerely responded.

A soft smile laid upon both of their faces as they looked at you. You might look like an empty shell of a person on the outside, but on the inside you were healing.

“Well as long as you’re okay, I have some news for you!’ Ginny exclaimed.

“What might that be? Did you finally trick Harry into snogging you instead of Cho?” you asked, chuckling at the sour face she made. It seems like Harry and Cho may still be a touchy subject for the younger Gryffindor.

“Oh hush you know that’s not it! I heard from a little birdie that one of my brothers may fancy you,” she grinned slyly, watching your every move.

Dumbstruck you stared at her before you quietly asked, “Which one? You’ve got to be joking!”

“Fred! You ninny! He’s only been pining over you since the 3rd year!” Ginny laughed.

“Seriously Y/N, did you forget how pissed he was when everything first happened? It took Harry, George, and Ron to keep him hexing Draco!” Hermione spoke.

The faint memory of Fred yelling at the blonde came to you. This memory seemed to spark others inside of you. Fred always holding open the door, his sly remarks at your former lover, the way he always gave you gifts in your house colors, and so many more. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, Fred Weasley fancies you.

“Just promise me you won’t make him your rebound or anything like that. I know you’re hurt but don’t hurt him in the process of trying to heal yourself,” Ginny warned.

Nodding your head you replied, “Of course Ginny. I wouldn’t do that to him, besides I don’t even know what I feel for him. If I even feel anything. But I promise, I won’t do anything until I know.”

Hooking the two of your pinkies together, you made a promise not to hurt her brother. Laughing as you pulled your hands away, you didn’t notice the grey eyes fixated on your every move. For the first time in weeks, you weren’t interested in seeking out the attention of Draco Lucius Malfoy.

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

Six months since Draco.

Truthfully, you were happy. You know longer searched for him in a crowd or tried to catch a glimpse of him in the common room. You stopped trying to be the girl he wanted and you had never felt better. Although things didn't work out with Fred, the two of you had a remarkable friendship and he was dating Angelina now. He never tried to push you and didn’t seem to take the blow too hard when you told him you didn’t reciprocate his feelings. You had a slight inkling he had already started to crush on his fellow Gryffindor.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you looked around the Great Hall which seemed to be buzzing with joy. Christmas had came to Hogwarts and everyone was thrilled. Trees were decorated and twinkled with lights. The entire atmosphere changed this time of year and you couldn’t help but be envious of it. You sighed inwardly thinking of all the holiday parties your parents would force you to go to and the thought of seeing Malfoy there.

While stirring the hot chocolate sat in front of you, you didn’t notice the person lingering a few feet from you.

“Y/N, can we talk?” a voice spoke, causing you to snap your head upwards.

A scowl immediately found home on your features, surprising not only you but Draco Malfoy.

“What could we possibly have to talk about, Malfoy?” you hissed, never breaking eye contact.

“Last name? That’s harsh even for you, Y/N,” he spoke.

“Don’t call me that and go away,” you replied, rage filling you.

“Can we please go somewhere? I need to speak to you privately,” he pleaded.

“No. I’m not going anywhere with you. So if you really have to say something to me, you can say it here,” you harshly replied.

“Look, I’m sorry. I was a fool and I hurt you. I didn’t mean what I said. I did love you. I still do. What we had was real and I want it back,” he lowly responded, eyes threatening to spill the tears that stilled along his waterline.

A loud, bitter laugh left your mouth. If you wouldn’t have been the one to release it, you would have sworn Bellatrix LeStrange was in Hogwarts.

“You have some fucking nerve Malfoy! After months of letting me waste away thinking that I was some unlovable loser, you say this. Well hear me out this time- I don’t love you. You’re incapable of love. You chew people up and then spit them out when you’re finished with them. You think that you’re the man but you’re just a scared little boy. I’m tired of pretending that you were ever good to me. You don’t hurt people you love,” you screamed, not caring to cause a scene.

You watched as Draco looked around the room, guilt plastered along his face. He looked back at you, tears now falling down his face and took a step back. Ice ran through your veins when you saw the tears, never had you seen him cry. Not even as children when he fell and scraped a knee. Without another word, he spun around and hurried out of the Great Hall leaving you to wonder if he was actually telling the truth.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x slytherin #slytherin reader #slytherin #gryffindor #hufflepuff #raven law #harry potter angst #hp angst #draco lucius malfoy #Draco #harry potter #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x you #Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!reader #mauraders era #the mauraders #fred weasley #george weasley #weasley twins #ron weasley #hogwarts #hp ships #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin