#Maybe it will all end up being nothing or I may be misreading or seeing more than there is but I am looking forwards to knowing more

[aylish91]

Its a late night and i had a scenario for the Leviathan Au…

Reader was born a mer, and actually the last of their species due to the unfortunate involvement of humans, and nightmare decides to take in reader because of this.

Maybe a comfort scene where reader is grieving over the loss of the members from her pod and the loss of her species in general and nightmare finds them alone? I would love to see what your take on this would be..

A morsel for your soul dear Anon. I may have misread it the first time, but we got there! hahaha! Have some first meetings and hurt/comfort.

Thank you for reading and requesting!

Why do you Weep?

The deep was… different. The pressure made your fins heavy and breath hard. You knew in time your body would become more accustomed to it and work out its difficulties, but for now, it was one more reminder of how much things had changed.

You missed the shallows and the reef. You missed your reef. You missed the laughter and anticipation of waiting for hunting parties returning with jellies and siphonophores.

You missed everything.

Sometimes you wonder if it would have been better if you had stayed behind. At least then you could have been lost with all the others. As it was, your mother’s panicked pleas were the only thing keeping you going. She and your father had given up so much that you might survive…

It hurt.

Flaring the soft ridges of your spine and fins, you forced yourself to dive deeper. You weren’t sure how far you had swum to reach the trench, but your mother was adamant that your safety hinged on descending “past the edge of day”.

Humans couldn’t follow unaided.

You knew you had reached it when a thin barrier of dark magic barred your path.

Though you were still cautious, crossing the border had been an immense relief. The waters had turned far too dark from the addition of nightfall and you were on the verge of collapse. Finally being able to search for a place to rest gave you hope.

The ledge you eventually found was large enough to lay but not inlaid enough for any sort of proper protection, but you made it work. Your pitiful nest may have lacked material, but it was enough to sleep on for a night. Besides, in the end, it didn’t really matter.

Your fins bristled.

If it had been any darker, you would never have noticed the massive tentacles creeping around the ledge ready to encase you. Quickly dodging, a growled reverberating voice sent true fear gripping your soul.

 “Why do you weep, little fish? What causes you such trepidation?” Though the words were that of concerned question, their tone and the intent boiling the water proved otherwise. Any genuine concern was replaced with that of mistrust and hunger.

You were nothing more than a trespasser. Prey to be chased and hunted.

Instincts had you darting up and away, but what you thought was an exit quickly turned into a trap. The tentacles were merely a distraction for the dark leviathan before you, his large skeletal hands loosely surrounding your escape. All you could do was flair your fins in hopes the flash of blue and white would warn against attack or consumption.

The titan only gave a pleased hum, a single slit of an orb casting eerie shadows. It made you distinctly aware of other flashes just out of sight of its light.

“Oh my~ A Sea Swallow? It has been quite the amount of time since I’ve had the pleasure of seeing one of your kind. What brings one this far into my territory? And in such a state? Pushing boundaries again, or simply a mistake? Please, do tell.”

A spot of jittering red passed overhead.

You couldn’t speak, terror allowing your poison to coat your body. At your silence, the titan leaned closer with a growl.

“What’s the matter? Has my appearance truly been this much of a surprise as to capture your tongue?”

The silhouette of a very large shark passed on the right. You flinched at the movement, the giant’s eyelight dilating to flick over you. Your soul was pounded in your chest as you shook but your words remained locked away.

Slowly, he leaned back.

“Pity. These circumstances have been less than appealing. Perhaps… a gentler touch is needed…” His fingers closed around you. “Come. I wish to know what has driven a Blue Angel this deep.”

You didn’t fight. You couldn’t. You were helpless as he dragged you further into the dark unknown.

***

You found yourself wandering back to the rim. Time had played a big part in your return, but it didn’t make the journey any easier. However, once there, you couldn’t bring yourself to cross the precipice of the deep. You stayed at its mouth, gazing back toward the reefs and shallows up ahead.

The silence was deafening.

Despite everything you had gone through, the growth and strides you had made, the water felt heavier now than in the depths. The colors were too bright, sunshine overwhelming instead of warm. Everything felt like it was too much.

There was no one to greet you home.

…

You couldn’t do it.

As tears burned the corner of your eyes, you found yourself wishing you had never taken the trip. Flashes of your past had you breaking. Sobs wracked with heavy tears filled the silence. In your grief, your fins paled in their droop as you floated freely in the open water. They pulled you slowly down to drift past the cliffs and crags as you sank.

You were numb, watching the light above dim the further you fell. One moment became two, two became four until time drifted with you into nothingness. It took a sudden uplift in the water for you to regain any sense of reality. A familiar glow cutting through your metaphorical darkness.

Nightmare’s face hovered above you, his tentacles flaring below. The subtle brush against your fins had you registering his hands carefully cupping your form. In a way, it reminded you of the very first time you passed into the realm of the deep, the soft rumble of his voice pulling you further from the oblivion.

“Where are you, little fish? Your mind has taken you beyond my reach.”

His words were oddly quiet, eyelight dim as it searched. It stirred something within you, helping you feel for the first time just how cold you had become. Slowly, you moved enough to grip one of his clawed fingers. His thumb, though hesitant, came to stroke your soft underbelly.

You felt muted and far away.

“Everyone is gone... It’s too quiet.”

“Something tells me it's not the boys to which you refer.”

Tears once again threatened to spill. “My family. My pod... They—”

“Are down in the deep.” You felt the water shift from his shuddered intake of breath. “Those that came before might not be with you Angel, but that does not mean there can’t be others. Has our time meant so little that you cannot see them for what they truly are? What we, are?” You had never heard him take such a gentle but firm tone. So quiet. Reserved for only the two of you. You could feel the overwhelming intent in each word. It spread comfort with promises of so much more.

“We may not be able to bring back your past, but do not forget your future in your grief. The present is still here, waiting. The shiver would be very disappointed if you forgot that.”

“All this time I was just— How? How do I keep going? It hurts! Nothing’s the same anymore!”

His giant skull came to bonk and nuzzle into yours. “With time, nothing ever is. There is always change, no matter how subtle. We grow, we love, we lose. Currents move and sands pass. It is unfortunate you should have to face such things so soon, but we are here, and we can help carry the burden.” A claw caressed your tear-stained cheek. “Share your sorrows, that I might ease your pain. You are not alone.”

For the first time since the incident, you felt a deep sense of release. The ache in your soul softened. Gripping tighter, you pressed back with a desperation you didn’t know you had.

“I wish you could roam in the shallows. If you were… Should I ever get the courage to go back, I would have liked you to be there.”

“Perhaps…” He hesitated, eyelight darting away as a hint of color bloomed on his skull. “Perhaps when you are ready, I will be.”

You met his gaze in confusion. “But, how—”

A gentle claw pressed against your lips with a mischievous chuckle, water rushing from Nightmare’s sudden descent. “Now now, my Angel. All in due time. For now, let us return. The others await your return home.”

…

Home.

… You smiled, leaning more into the giant. It looked like there would be someone to greet you after all.

#asks #writing requests #my writing #undertale #undertale fanfiction #leviathantale #nightmare x reader #nightmare sans #mer reader #hurt/comfort #ao3 fanfic #not beta read

[vacant--body]

stay with me pt 3

azriel shadowsinger x OFC

part one, part two, part four, part five

warnings: torture, violence, gore, angst

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It had been a week since Ophelia left. A week since he heard her laughter, saw her smiling at him or swooning at her dizzying scent. It was already starting to slowly fade from the House of Wind. Without it, Azriel thought he might go crazy.

Even more than usual.

His shadows had told him that the day after…the day after Rita’s, Rhys had picked her up from the balcony outside her room. So, he figured she was out running a mission. But a week was unusual. She was normally gone for a couple days before she came back. Yet something just wasn’t sitting right with him. She had always checked in if she was going to be gone longer than what she said. And as far as he knew, she hadn’t.

And if he asked about her, he would seem desperate.

Okay, he was desperate. Desperate for her. For them to finally happen. Azriel was finally ready to tell her everything that he had been holding back all these months.

When she finally let him kiss her, he thought everything would fall into place. Things would work out, just as they worked out for his brothers. But of course not, nothing was that simple when it came to Azriel. The cauldron had cursed him, it was more than obvious now.

Had he done something wrong? Maybe he had misread the entire situation and took it too far. But she had wanted him, she was just as greedy to touch him as he was her. Everything had felt right, perfect, up until the moment Cassian had interrupted them.

Azriel was still pissed at him for it.

“You alright?” Feyre asked as Azriel stormed through the doors of the River House.

“Fine.” He spat back. As soon as the words left his mouth, he winced.

He didn’t mean to come off hateful towards his High Lady. He stopped walking and sighed up towards the ceiling, before turning around. “I’m sorry, it’s just-” What the fuck could he tell her? “Been a rough week.”

“I understand.” She smiled softly at him, her blue-grey eyes full of knowing. “Come, Rhys said he had something important for everyone.”

It was true, Rhys had summoned everyone to the River House. Maybe it was something Ophelia had relayed back to him and something was finally happening between the Human Queens and the Autumn Court. But as he and Feyre entered one of the sitting rooms, he could tell it was something much worse than that.

Eris was here.

“Now that Az is finally here, we can get started.” Rhys shot Azriel a accusatory glare from across the room.

“As you all know, Az and Phia had been gaining intelligence from the Autumn Court. It has been hard but every piece of information counts.” He began.

Rhys took a steadying breath, place a hand in his mates lower back. “Last week, I sent Ophelia out on a solo mission.”

A knot took form in Azriels chest. His knees felt weak and unsteady.

“She told me she would only be there for a couple of days, but obviously hadn’t returned yet.”

The knot tightened, it was getting hard to breathe.

“Feyre and I thought she may have found out something important and was still running reconnaissance, but when we traveled to the mountains in the Winter Court to see if the mental link would work if we were closer. Yet…nothing.”

The wood of the door frame shattered in Azriel’s hand, splinters embedding themselves into his palm. Many turned to look at him, but Rhys pressed on, ignoring his outburst.

“That’s when Eris returned, and told us.” There was a harsh moment of silence, and Azriels anxiety grew to a tipping point.

“She’s being held captive by my father and brothers.” Eris finished for him.

The room exploded into darkness.

Azriel couldn’t breathe, it felt like his breath was being sucked out of his chest. His ears were ringing, and he could have sworn there was blood on his hands. Whose blood was that? Was it his? When had he ended up on the ground?

Azriel!

His shadows receded back into him, only a little. He shook his head clear of that voice. He could only hear Ophelias. Could only hear her laugh, see her smile, see her.

Azriel!

Another voice. Female this time, he knew that voice. It had shown him kindness and compassion. Tried to look beneath all the scars. Just like Ophelia tried.

Black and red was all he saw.

Suddenly, someone was behind him, gripping him so hard from behind he could have sworn one of his ribs cracked.

His shadows finally dissipated and he was staring down at the wreckage that was Eris. The males face was beaten so badly he was hardly recognizable. Had he done that? He looked down at his hands, knuckles busted open. Hands coated in blood, a mix between his own and Eris’s.

He had definitely done that.

People were shouting at him, shouting at each other. But he couldn’t hear them, couldn’t see them. All he saw was Ophelia sitting on the counter, smiling at him. He had lost her before he even had her. Now, she was a captive. In the cauldron cursed Autumn Court.

The world suddenly snapped back into focus is a dizzying rush. He spun towards Rhys, teeth bared, pushing who he now realized as Cassian, off of him.

“You sent my mate to die!”

Silence.

Utter silence.

Feyre was the first one to speak. “Your mate is alive, Azriel.” Her tone was calm and steady, how he figured she would have talked to a wild animal who was cornered and scared. “You would have felt…” She trailed off, glancing at Rhysand. “You would have felt it.”

Azriel snarled again, turning on his heel.

“Where do you think you are going?” This voice was not Rhysand, his brother. This was the voice of his High Lord.

“Getting her back.”

“I cannot let you do that, shadowsinger.” Power rumbled throughout the room, the entire house.

A dark, humorless laugh came from Azriel. “You tore half of Prythian apart for your mate.” His voice was as cold as the steel of a blade. “I will do worse for mine.”

✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖°

A cold splash of water woke Ophelia up. Gasping, she looked around wildly and found the sneering face of Beron staring down at her, eyes alight with barely leashed rage. She now knew why he was called Lord of Fire. It was evident in those deep-set brown eyes.

Great, she was already starting to go insane.

“Sleep well?” He chuckled, taking a few steps back from her. She didn’t know why, it wasn’t like she could reach him with her arms chained above her head.

“Go fuck yourself.” She spat, spittle flying from her chapped lips.

“So much fire in you, even after we’ve put most of it out.” Beron hummed. “Be good and listen, and maybe my sons won’t visit you tonight.”

Ophelia shut her mouth, biting down on her tongue so hard it drew blood. She didn’t think she could stand another visit from his twisted sons. That would be her final breaking point.

Her fae healing could only do so much to the burn scars around her wrists and ankles.

“Very good. Now,” He cleared his throat. “There once was a little flame princess, who stole the heart of her entire kingdom. She was the youngest of the king's children, having several elder brothers. And when her powers started developing, there was something different about them. They were too bright, burned too hot. So the king went to the queen, asking how this could happen? How could his daughter have the power of light when they were fire?” He took a deep breath, his eyes scanning her face.

“That’s when the king learned that the little flame princess was instead, a little sun princess. That his queen had tricked him into raising not one but two bastard children, right under his nose.”

“So your wife fucked another male, what does this have to do with me?” Ophelia muttered.

Beron inched towards her, a sick and twisted smile spread across his face, unnerving her. “Everything.”

She laughed. Yeah, Ophelia was definitely going crazy.

“The king was torn on what to do. See, he had come to love his little sun princess. But her blood was not his. So, he locked her in a tower, high away from everyone. Determined to keep her safe and secure. He would send his true children in to keep her company from time to time, but soon the king learned that they had scared his beautiful sun princess. She was ugly, littered with hideous scars that no magic would heal or hide.”

Ophelia felt like she was going to be sick. She tried to squeeze her eyes shut to stop the room from spinning but images flashed behind her eyelids. Images that were too bright and vivid to just be her imagination.

“To end her suffering, the king finally set the little princess free. He let her roam his kingdom for a bit before setting his hounds out. But alas, she has been spirited away to the kingdom of his enemies, a dark and nightmarish kingdom.”

“Stop.” Ophelia wheezed.

“And just when the king was almost done healing from his pain, he found her on the outskirts of his kingdom. A spy.”

The hot hands of the Autumn Court Lord wrapped around her throat, cutting off her airway. Heat danced at his finger tips, searing her skin, charring her pale flesh.

“A spying whore for the Court of Nightmares.”

His hand curled tighter around her throat, and she was sure he was going to break her neck.

“You’re insane.” Ophelia gasped, eyes meeting his. They burned with such hatred that she was sure this was it. He would bring her death.

“Little princess, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

With his free hand, he reached toward his jewel encrusted belt. He pulled on the hilt of a dagger, which had the pattern and swirls of the Autumn Court sigil on the gleaming blade. A blade made of ashwood.

Without even blinking, he plunged the dagger into her side, to the hilt. Pain exploded from the area, her vision going out momentarily. Her instincts kicked in, trying to overwrite the pain by blocking it out. But it was too much, too overwhelming.

Ophelia screamed, her voice going hoarse as she thrashed against the pain, and against his hold on her throat. Her body went into survival mode, bucking and kicking the best she could to get away, to get away from the pain.

“You will die here, just as you were born here.” Beron snarled, finally releasing her throat.

Gasping and sputtering, she tried to reach for the dagger with her bound hands. But she couldn’t reach it. Blood poured freely from her wound, coating the floor. A sliver of thought returned to her and she glared up at Beron, her entire body twitching.

“I…” Blood bubbled out of her mouth and dribbled down her chin. “Will fucking kill you.”

The last thing Ophelia heard was the sound of laughter as Beron left her cell, the sound echoing in the darkness.

#a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #acosf #acowar #acotar #azriel #azriel angst #azriel fanfic #azriel one shot #azriel smut #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel imagine #azriel x ofc #azriel fluff #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x oc #azriel spymaster #azriel x female!reader #azriel x you smut #azriel shadowsinger smut

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck ch.194 thoughts

[Violence for Violence is the Rule of Beasts]

(Contents: lore)

Always appreciate a lore drop

So we've finally confirmed that not every UMA has a Negator, and not every Negator has a UMA. It does seem strange to me that Fuuko would say the pairings are rare when we've seen so many, though. Death, Change, Luck, Move, Stop, Burn, Tell, and possible Information with Unknown, that's 7 or 8 out of 28 Negators who have a UMA counterpart: that's between 25 and 30%, I wouldn't call that rare, and it seems likely that many other Negators do have UMAs like presumably Justice, Fade, Sleep and Break at the very least since those feel like the most restrictive

Maybe I'm misreading it though and every Negator does have a UMA, and the pairs are rare in the sense that it's rare to find a UMA that can be Negated directly. Still, the main point is there's no Unbeast, there may not be an Unsoul, there's probably no Unsummer/Unwinter/etc., and most disappointingly there's no Uncrab. I really wanted to see that one, too...

With this revelation, we now know that the already dire disparity between Negator and UMA in this competition is much worse than it ever seemed. I never really considered the possibility of, say, every Negator and UMA lining up to square off against each other, but if our original concept of all Rules having one on each side were true, then it would be only slightly skewed in favor of the UMA since they're giant monsters with healing factors. Knowing that there are significantly more UMA than Negators, though, that would be an obvious loss for the Negator side as the sheer number of nigh-invincible monsters would obviously overwhelm the smaller force that can Negate at best a third of the opposition

However, I don't believe that Luna simply let Sun stack the deck in his favor completely unilaterally. The fact that there's never been a point where all of the UMA could attack at once and the rules of engagement allow for the Union to team up against them while also utilizing Artifacts means that Luna must have made a concerted effort to rebalance the game, though clearly she's the "challenger" since Sun is still undeniably the one with the advantage. That's a fairly standard rule in bets like this - the one who wants to usurp the throne has to fight at a disadvantage to prove that they're stronger or more deserving of it than the current ruler

It also just makes for more exciting storytelling for the main cast to be weaker than the enemy, as everyone loves an underdog story. Equal rivals are fun too, but uncontested beatdowns get stale fast, so it's for the best that the cast that the audience follows has to struggle. This is especially fun in series like UU since it requires that the cast gets clever with how they use their powers, like Andy stacking Unchange/Undraw/Unbreakable to squish Sick in under a minute

I hope that this ends up getting brought back up when we next fight Sun or talk to Luna, cus the nature of their relationship is probably the biggest hole left to fill here. Right now they're pretty nebulous gods; we know about their game, and we've seen that Luna has a surprisingly nasty personality for being ostensibly on "our side," but other than that we know next to nothing about either of them. What kind of life did they have before they started their game? How long did they exist? Were there other gods, or just them? Were they always enemies? Are they even enemies now? It looks like it'll still be a while before we get to answer any of these questions, but this chapter really helped contextualize exactly how their wager is set up

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

#undead unluck #fouryearsandananime #4y1a reviews

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

What are some things you think about a lot, more than most other things you think

I'm thinking about this right now, and it seems like the answer is "whether or not I am a good person." It's hard to put into words how much that bothers me. There are some people who seem to feel very confident in their own moral bona fides. But I just don't see myself as one of those people. Even though I know there are plenty of things I do well (both in terms of being nice and friendly toward other humans and also just in terms of general life competence) . . . there is always something that looks bad when you look at yourself. And even if you try really hard to fix your flaws, they keep coming back; so you have this sense of having been through cycles of self-improvement and then regression, over and over again, for years on end. At least it feels that way to me, but maybe others experience this less acutely? [EDIT: actually, after writing all this, I think there may be more than two options here -- either people genuinely feel good about themselves, which means they never notice all these flaws, or else they mostly notice them, but can somehow find ways to cope with them without getting too depressed.]

This sounds pathetic and whiny, but it's really true! Some of my friends have told me that I often come off as arrogant or conceited because I tend to talk about what I believe in strongly, and that makes it sound like I don't care what anyone else thinks. And while that's probably true, I feel terrible when people tell me this. Especially since my strongest opinions aren't on subjects where there's any real controversy anyway. They're usually about stuff no one cares about, or issues everyone agrees upon, or a weird mix of both. So it seems like my only excuse would be that I'm an idiot who doesn't realize he has nothing interesting to say, except that I do get some positive feedback from time to time, so I guess I must really be that big an idiot. Or I could try to become someone whose beliefs line up perfectly with the prevailing wisdom, thereby becoming uninterestingly conventional. Which would be bad enough, but worse still would be to have a reputation as a screwup among people who think conventionally. Not sure why I haven't done anything like that yet. Maybe I've tried, and failed, because I simply cannot stop talking about myself. That was probably what made college so torturous -- I spent most of my social interactions trying to figure out whether I had said something stupid or insulting, or if it was just that my conversational partners were awkward/unwilling to make conversation. I didn't want to ask them directly whether they disliked me or thought I was dumb, because I wanted to maintain plausible deniability. In hindsight, I wish I had asked straight out whether I seemed annoying or anything. Then again, I wouldn't trust anyone's answers to such questions, given the times I misread intentions and ended up saying something wrong.

Anyway, I should clarify that this isn't really a complaint post. Just an observation about a pattern that runs throughout my life. My natural state is to feel like a loser, and every once in a while this feeling becomes intense enough to cause pain and grief, but basically this is normalcy for me, in the same way that walking

#justalilguytryin

[that-ineffable-devil]

Rainbow in the Dark | Chapter 4

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Author's Note: This is a glimpse into Steve's home life with his parents--I don't expect we'll see much of them after this, but we need to lay the groundwork for his relationship with them as well as the dynamic between himself and Tommy. While he won't see Tommy for what he is, yet, this is the seed that blooms by the end of S1 of the show's canon. I promise he won't always suffer so much!

CONTENT WARNING: Most of this chapter has a humming undercurrent of Steve's anxiety with Tommy and his father. It also ends with an intense confrontation with his father. There's no physical abuse, but he does yell at and heavily insult Steve. As with Chapter 3, I've placed the confrontation under the Read More cut so it can be avoided, if necessary.

Chapter 4: An Only Child in an Only Room

Steve bumped harshly into Tommy as he rounded the corner on the way to his next class, sending the other boy crashing to the floor.

“T-Tommy! Oh, man, I’m sorry—let me…” he rushed out, reaching down to help Tommy up.

The grimace on the boy’s face made Steve’s heart drop into his stomach. Was Tommy hurt? Did he hurt him? Anxiety welled up in him like a tidal wave as his eyes darted all over the other boy, searching for injuries.

Tommy’s grimace twisted into something like rage as he slapped Steve’s hand away and stood up.

“I’m fine, but you should pay more attention, Harrington,” he spat out, the words laced with venom.

Tommy had never spoken to him like this, and as the anxiety boiled over into fear, he searched the boy’s freckled face for a reason.

His friend continued to glare coldly at him as he shifted his backpack to his other shoulder.

“So. Have a good time with your mystery girl today?”

Steve though Tommy sounded hurt—or jealous? But why? Tommy had never seemed to mind him hanging out with girls before—not that it happened often. Tommy didn’t know he’d been working on his essay with Jonathan, right? And why would that make him jealous? Steve decided he must be misreading things again—emotions were tricky, and he wasn’t the best at reading them. Attempting to defuse the situation, he adopted a sheepish smile and looked away from Tommy, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

“Oh…y-yeah, it was great. Lotta fun.”

“I bet,” Tommy replied, voice still chilly and edged.

Steve shuffled his feet—maybe Tommy was feeling neglected? He hadn’t spent as much time with his best friend this week, so maybe Tommy thought he was abandoning him for some girl. Steve swallowed the panic that rose in his throat as he thought of losing his best friend. He couldn’t panic—now was the time for action.

“So, uh, I know we haven’t had as much time to hang out this week so I thought, maybe, if you want, you could come over to my place this weekend? My dad’s headed out of town Saturday morning, so we could pretty much have full reign of the place and stuff…” Steve stammered out, counting the scuffs on the floor because he couldn’t stand the sight of Tommy’s anger.

The silence stretched on, thicker and more cloying than it had in the library—like it would drown them if they didn’t break its surface. If Steve had looked up, he may have caught Tommy’s expression shift from cold rage to cruel calculation. When he finally met the other boy’s gaze, Tommy had schooled his face into a friendly, but devious expression—nothing out of the ordinary.

“Yeah, that’d be cool. Can I come over tonight though and stay the weekend? My dad has some ‘business friends’ coming over this weekend and I have zero interest in being their beer gopher.”

Steve smiled brightly.

“Absolutely! That’d be awesome!”

The rest of the school day passed in a blur. Though he’d been happy to agree to Tommy’s request—anything to quell the impending Hagan Wrath—he was a bit worried that he hadn’t gotten permission first. He soothed the anxiety by reminding himself that Harringtons were nothing if not impeccable hosts, and to refuse to let Tommy stay after the invitation was offered would be a grave offense to the Hagans.

He just hoped that his father would forget about it before he returned from his business trip. That his mother wouldn’t remind him.

As Steve and Tommy climbed into the back seat of his mother’s Beemer, he decided to rip the metaphorical Band-Aid off.

“Hey Mom! Tommy’s staying over this weekend—that okay?” His voice is bright and high, as if in excitement—but it was really nerves.

“My parents are entertaining business clients this weekend, Mrs. Harrington, and they’d really appreciate not having to worry about me while they’re hosting,” Tommy added in a sickly-sweet voice as he closed the car door. “I’m sure they’d gladly repay the favor.”

“Of course, dears, that’ll be just fine,” Steve’s mother replied, not turning to face them.

To anyone else, she may have sounded a little resigned but cheerful. Steve knew that something else simmered below her words, and he felt his stomach tighten as he thought of his father. If he’d already had a bad day…Steve swallowed thickly, trying to focus on anything but his thoughts. But Tommy was unusually quiet, leaving him to stew in his apprehension.

Steve just hoped his father wouldn’t do anything in front of Tommy—he felt he was already on thin ice there, though he couldn’t understand why.

As the three of them filed quietly into the Harringtons’ foyer, Steve noted his father’s luggage was already packed and ready near the entryway, their black leather and scarlet zippers a stark contrast against the neutral wall. While Richard Harrington firmly believed in being prepared for any situation, Steve thought it looked like an awful lot more luggage than normal for one of his short business trips. His mother walked past the luggage without a second glance and without a word to either boy, both of whom had stopped to hang up their backpacks.

“Richard, we have a guest!” she called out to the house, her voice loud but neutral.

Steve’s stomach twisted into knots as he heard the door to his father’s study open with the slightest click and squeak. His chest grew tighter as his father’s Oxfords clacked heavily against the floor as he approached. He wanted to bolt—to run to his room with Tommy and hide there until his father had left on his trip. But his legs were frozen, his sneakers glued to the floor. There’d be no running.

His father approached the boys as his mother finished hanging her hat and coat—she exited toward the kitchen without sparing any of them another glance, but her shoulders were as stiff as the click of her heels on the hard floor. Steve wanted to look down, look away—look anywhere his father wasn’t. But Harringtons always look men in the eye, his father had said. If a man couldn’t meet your eyes, then he was lying or a coward—both unacceptable traits for a Harrington. So, he met his father’s eyes as he approached.

“Ah, the young Hagan, I see,” his father said as he sized up Tommy, his voice deep and booming, no expression on his face.

“Yes, sir,” Tommy replied with his most winning smile.

Steve could practically hear the dimples in his voice, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face before his father fixed him with a cold glare.

“I don’t recall you asking permission to invite a friend over this weekend, Steven.”

“W-well, I…um..”

“Oh my, did you forget darling?” Steve’s mother said, having returned to the doorway. “He asked me a few days ago and I told him it would be fine, knowing you’d be on your trip anyway. I’m certain I reminded you last night,” her eyes alight with something undefinable as she stared at the back of her husband’s head.

Shock ran through Steve’s entire body as he chanced a look at his mother. She caught his eye and gave the briefest breath of a smile and nod before her neutral expression returned.

Richard stared down his nose at Steve—he did not believe his boy had asked permission, but he couldn’t contradict his wife so openly—not in front of company, at least. He took a deep breath, eyes still fixed on his son.

“Ah, yes, now I remember,” he replied, tilting his head in her direction. “Well then, Mr. Hagan, it appears you are our most welcome guest.”

As his father turned to return to his study, Steve smiled at his mother in the distance. She nodded again, her dark brown eyes warm, but sad. When Steve turned to Tommy, relief washing over him, he noticed the other boy did not seem relieved—or even happy. He looked…annoyed? Frustrated? Disappointed? Before Steve could make sense of it, Tommy turned to him and smiled widely, dispelling his concern.

“Great!” Tommy said brightly. “Let’s go up to your room, we can hang out for a while before dinner, right?”

“Yeah, of course!” Steve replied cheerfully, and they raced each other up the stairs to his room.

Dinner at the Harrington house was always a quiet affair. Although they all sat around the solid oak dining table, there was rarely any talk. Steve’s parents would sit at opposite ends of the table—his father reading the Wall Street Journal, his mother keeping her eyes on her meal. Steve had hoped he and Tommy could eat quickly and then escape, but Tommy seemed determined to engage his father in conversation. It was maddening. Steve had even tried kicking the other boy under the table, but Tommy had turned so that Steve’s feet couldn’t reach him. What was he doing?

“So, Mr. Harrington, did you see Steve’s last game? He was totally the MVP,” Tommy remarked with a grin.

Steve’s father huffed a bit, eyes still on his paper.

“Ah, yes, I heard about that. I was, unfortunately, away on business for that game.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get another chance, especially now that Steve knows he’s passing English lit, isn’t that right Steve?”

Steve squeaked.

“What? I mean, yeah, I am…but…”

“Steve, man, you have got to tell me how you finished that ridiculous essay so quickly!” Tommy interrupted.

“Well, I…I told you; I went to the library during lunchtime all week.” Steve stuttered out, giving Tommy a confused expression.

“Right, right, the library. Good place to write about Hemingway.”

“Yeah, I thought…”

“And, of course, you got help from that weird Byers kid, right?”

The deafening silence pressed so strongly around their ears that Steve could only hear the rush of his own blood.

“W-what?” Steve stammered, his heart speeding as heat flushed into his cheeks. What was Tommy on about?

“You know—Byers. Everyone saw you with him—you even stayed late to work with him, right?”

“I…I don’t,” Steve was panicking, his eyes flicking between his father and Tommy.

“Byers?” his father asked, his voice quiet but commanding.

Steve gulped, his throat suddenly dry and raw.

“You, a Harrington, have been spending time with a mangy Byers?”

His father was staring at his meal as he spoke, his voice calm and deep, though Steve could swear he heard the waver that preceded imminent rage.

“I…I was just…the paper…”

Steve’s voice was pleading as he looked toward his mother, who kept her head down and expression neutral, but he thought her eyes were closed as if resigned. The color drained out of Steve as he realized he would face this alone, so he channeled all his effort to stopping the oncoming tremors. Any sign of nervousness or fear showed weakness and unworthiness to Richard Harrington’s eyes.

“Mr. Hagan, I’m afraid you will need to excuse us a moment, I need to have a word with my son,” his father said pointedly, looking at Tommy.

Tommy nodded, and as Steve stood from the table to follow his father into his study, he could have sworn that Tommy looked pleased—triumphant, even. It was bewildering and surreal.

Steve flinched as the door clicked shut behind him, his father walking behind his rich mahogany desk to face him. He gestured to the uncomfortable wooden chair placed under the ceiling light in front of the desk.

“Sit, Steven,” he said calmly, his fingers resting on the desktop.

Steve obeyed, his entire body a coiled spring waiting to pop. His father did not sit, opting instead to tower over his son, his face half-hidden by shadows.

“Is Mr. Hagan correct? Did you skip your lunches—perhaps even some classes—to spend time with that…Byers boy?”

His father’s voice was quiet and collected, but Steve knew it was merely the calm before the storm. If he chose his words carefully, he could minimize the damage.

“I had an English literature paper due today and had struggled to find a copy of any of Hemingway’s works. I went to the library on Monday and Jonathan and I fou…” Steve started to explain.

“Jonathan?” his father spat, as though the name were cheap wine to his refined palate.

“Y…um…the B-Byers boy,” Steve corrected himself.

His father’s eyes grew darker as he seemed to grow impossibly taller. Steve cleared his throat.

“Um, we—B-Byers and I—we both found the last Hemingway b-book at the same t-time, so we thought, since we b-both hadn’t f-finished the essay…” Steve’s voice failed as his father crossed his arms before him.

“Let me make sure I understand this. You, a Harrington, waited until the last minute to prepare for and write your essay. Rather than ask your parents to simply purchase you one of Hemingway’s novels, you sought the last one available in the library, and once finding it, agreed to share it with a Byers so that you could both write your procrastinated essays—am I correct?”

Steve’s eyes prickled with tears, but he held them back, refusing to break eye contact with his father.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“You then spent your lunch every day this week with said Byers writing your individual essays—all in close quarters, in public. Correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And am I to believe you also skipped classes to spend time with this boy?”

“N-no!” Steve shouted, fear seeping through. “We were just sharing the book so we could write our papers, nothing else! It…it wasn’t even fun. H-he was…he was weird.”

“Could you not have passed the book back and forth, each taking it for one night each week before Friday?”

“W-well…I guess we d-didn’t think about that…” Steve admitted, deflating like a punctured balloon.

“Of course, you didn’t,” his father sighed in frustration. “You both clearly have the brain power of an uneducated slug. I expect more from you Steven—you’re a Harrington and that comes with conditions. You do not fraternize with people like the Byers’.”

Steve was silent for a moment.

“Why, though?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why can’t I f-fraternize with the Byers’?”

“Those ‘people’ are trash, you embarrassment. If you associate with trash, you become it, and I’ll be damned before I let any son of mine become one of them.”

“But...w-what do you mean? J…the Byers boy seemed n-nice…”

“Stop stuttering, you idiot! Speak with confidence or do not speak at all!”

Steve curled in on himself, unable to stop the involuntary reaction to his father’s raised voice.

“Listen to me, you will learn that some people are simply worthless—beneath you and undeserving of your attention. While you may be a father’s biggest disappointment, you are still a Harrington, and I’ll not see our good name sullied by your association with a Byers.”

Steve blinked rapidly, fighting back the torrent of tears that threatened to spill over. His father leaned in over his desk suddenly, his facial features suddenly distorted and made grotesque from the light of his desk lamp. Steve flinched again.

“Now, because we have esteemed company tonight, you will not be sent to confinement. But if I hear even a whisper of a rumor that you are spending any more time with this Byers bastard, you won’t see the light of day unless you’re headed to or from school. Am I clear?”

His father’s voice was like ice—cold, calculating, and utterly merciless.

Steve, still in shock, took too long to answer.

“DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!” his father shouted in his face.

“Y-yes, sir!” Steve squeaked out, holding back the sob in his chest.

“Good. Get out of my sight, you’re done with dinner. I’ll send Tommy up to your room later.”

Steve nodded, leaving his chair and trying to make a quick exit.

“Boy!” his father said curtly behind him. “Look at me.”

Steve turned his face toward his father, hoping the tears weren’t as visible as they felt.

“I expect silence from your room tonight—I have an early flight and will not tolerate being kept awake. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve said with as much confidence as possible.

“Dismissed,” his father replied.

Steve calmly exited the study, walked back down the hallway, then took the stairs two at a time, afraid he could no longer hold the tears at bay. Why had Tommy talked about his paper? How did he know he’d been working with Jonathan? He said everyone had seen him, but they can’t have—they’d usually worked at a table tucked behind rows and rows of shelves and books. And Tommy knew Richard Harrington’s views—didn’t he know how his father would react? He’d seen how Steve’s father treated him before, so why would he even risk inciting his rage? Was Tommy mad at him? Had he done something wrong?

Steve flung himself onto his bed after silently closing his bedroom door. He tried unsuccessfully to avoid thinking of Jonathan, waiting for him in the library on Monday, not knowing that Steve would never show. He tried to ignore the ache in his heart as the grief of losing something so good so quickly. As the sobs threatened to erupt from his chest, he hoped he could keep them quiet enough to not reach his father, and prayed that he’d be able to push the rest down so Tommy would never see him like this.

He couldn't bear to lose Tommy, too.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Post Notes: "Baby" Steve is breaking my heart, y'all, and I'm ready to throw hands at Richard--and even Tommy. That little jerk knows exactly what he's doing--whatever his reasons, he shouldn't do Steve like that.

Chapter 5 Preview: Jonathan Byers can't believe that Steve Harrington, friend of Hawkins' resident bully Tommy Hagan, is actually a kind and decent person--and even stranger, Steve seems to want to be his friend. After a restless weekend trying to make sense of the last week, Jonathan is excited to see his friend Steve in the library again on Monday. But he doesn't know that Steve's weekend had been an entirely different experience, and everything was about to change. Forever.

Thank you to all readers who have made it this far! Likes, comments, and shares are deeply appreciated! I, like Steve, am heavily motivated by praise.

Credits

Bat dividers courtesy of StrayWords.

Fic title courtesy of Rainbow in the Dark by Dio.

Chapter title courtesy of Suffer the Children by Tears for Fears.

#steve harrington #steve needs a hug #steve stranger things #future steddie #steve harrington backstory #bisexual steve harrington #tommy hagan #childhood trauma #emotional abuse #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #read on ao3 #fic: rainbow in the dark #stranger things #steve's dad is a dick #tommy is a dick too #steve's mom has problems #but she tried i guess

[divergent-one-1984]

Some Email Chats Between Abdoulaziz Barry aka Aziz Barry aka Barry. Former Colleague at NYC Department of Education Who I considered a Friend Until I Had to Cut Him Off Because Of His Gaslighting. I Met Him in February 2015 While Working at NYC Department of Education. I Quit NYC Department of Education in April 2016. I Ended Our Friendship in May 2016 after a series of Bizarre Chat Messages That led me to believe he had been turned against me because of the Workplace Mobbing that Had Occurred since 2015 at NYC Department of Education, forcing me to quit. I shared some of my bullying experiences with him and some of the people involved. Also documentation of some communications had about people from my personal life, some intertwining with NYC Department of Education May, 22, 2016 through May 27, 2016. Days leading up to me Ending Friendship with Barry. Never communicated with Barry after Politely and Respectfully Ending Friendship. Shortly after this I began experiencing Community Harassment in my Neighborhood, by mostly Muslim and Latino people, with Muslims ranking number 1

This person is no longer of interest to me but everyday he is being referenced in my harassment campaign. The reason I am being so transparent about all of these people and my interactions is because there have obviously been lies told about me as part of this harassment campaign. If people are so interested in my personal life they should get the truth, not the lies I am sure that have been told to defame my character and as a preemptive strike to ruin me, tell the story (a mixture of lies, half truths, truths) they want to tell about me first so that no one knows or cares about the actual truth so that they can inflict the damage they wanted to inflict because I believe whomever did this to me is mentally unstable. It takes time to build up a reputation, but reputation can be torn down in a NY minute and hard to rebuild especially when lies, rumors, and gossip are apparently still circulating. I don't deserve what has been done to me and I did not do anything to anyone for them to do this to me.

Chatting about regular stuff, him taking kids to Chuck e Cheese and soccer, me needing to return book I borrowed from him, my job search, him hooking me up with a romantic prospect since he talks about me getting into relationship.

Weirdness when trying to meet him to exchange books, kept moving locations and wanted me to meet him closer to NYC Department of Education building than I wanted to go because just about 2 months ago I left a place where I was abused for months. I was still processing and probably suffering from PTSD. Kept changing locations inside of just meeting where I told him initially.

Tried to get to meet me in purpose about stuff because I was suspicious my personal cell phone had been hacked / tapped.

At this point, I had reported the Workplace Mobbing / Emotional Abuse to NYS Department of Labor. I think the investigation had just concluded or was close to being concluded. I filed complaint end of April/ Beginning of May 2016, investigation was completed by end of May for sure, maybe a week + prior to end of May. I believe this is motivation for Barry attempting to isolate himself from me by the bizarre language he was typing in the chat, gaslighting, and an attempt to get something on record of me coming at him in a negative way to match up with the lies. Some of the people I have named here who were employed at NYC Department of Education while harassing me were also included in my complaint to the NYS Department of Labor, include Tolani Adeboye, Natasha Liggins-Modelo, Chrissy Maloney, etc., Barry was NOT, because as far as a I thought he was a friend and did not experience any noticeable / blatant weirdness with him till after I filed the complaint, in retrospect, he could have been engaging in harassment prior to but I just did not see it. The kind of harassment is carried out that way, at first its very subtle, you think soemthing is weird, but think it may be nothing, a coincidence or you misreading something, then it becomes more overt, patterned, organized and coordinated when more abusers seem to be engaging in rude, disrespecful, invasive behavior around you, especially people who you dont even really know or never interected with more than cordially because you see them in passing in the office, maybe in the bathroom, or lunch room or elevator bank, so you wont see it all you front, part of the reasoning for that I think is to simply have the target confused and disoriented, you know something weird is going on but you cant quite place it. Makes you feel like you may be a topic of conversation that you are not privy too and dont understand because you are not that socially engaged with many people so nobody should really be having much of anything to say about you unless a gossip/ rumor mill has been started by the person who instigates Workplace Mobbing against an employee based on fabrications, lies, and leaking of private, personal, and confidential info.

He used language, describing me as rude, unprofesssional, blackmailer, arrogant, etc. We have been communicating for the last year +, never used any of these words to describe me, actually the quite opposite. I doubt if I really was what this man was stating he would not have sat up in my fave for the last year + engaging in nearly daily communication, in person at work and outside of work on multiple occassions, via chat / email, etc if he really believed these words he was hurling at me.

I did not take the bait, told him in a respectful manner that I think the friendship should end because the stuff he was saying was weird and bizarre. I felt in that moment I just left this workplace where I was being harassed, that you knew because I shared with you and you saw some of the activity yourself and now you seem to be engaging in similar abuse towards me. It seemed he had been turned like the people had been in the workplace. Best thing was for me to make clean break from all of the people and the place because of an intuition, I still did not fully know what was about to happen to me. I still thought the harassment was limited to NYC Department of Education, if ai leave the job then it goes away. Boy, was I was wrong.

Barry backtracked, tried to get me to meet him or call to talk but I just ghosted him. I had said my peace and meant what I said and did not feel the need to continue to communicate.

[flawed-lesbian]

I’m really done with hiding how I feel. With keeping my emotions locked so far down inside me until I just blow up. I’m sitting here alone and I can’t help but feel so fucking empty. But I have a sense of myself. And that’s something I didn’t have a year ago. I know how I feel. I know what I want. But that doesn’t make it easier when it’s not in my life. It’s lonely to have everything but nothing at the same time. To be happy, but still feel like something so big is missing.

I’ve prayed every night for weeks that maybe something would change, you know? That maybe you’d reach out. That maybe I’d lose my mind and reach out myself and somehow it’d go well. I don’t want it to be like this. I don’t want to miss out on your life. I don’t want to never see you again.. never talk again.

I hurt so bad. And I don’t know if it’s because part of me wishes I could move on and I can’t or it’s because I love you the way I do and I can’t do anything about it. You know, I don’t even think I have it in me to want to move on. Like a part of me will always be holding on to some sort of hope. Even if it’s fake. If it’s all in my head. If I’ve misread the little things.

I’ve realized what I’ve missed the most with you. I mean, essentially, all of it. But it’s just the little shit. It’s talking with you. It’s laughing and smiling. It’s seeing your name pop up on my screen. It’s liking your posts and vice versa. I’d fucking give anything to be able to like a post even if it was just one more time.

I just want to be civil with you. To talk or hang out. God, I wish I could just talk to you. Be honest with you. I wish we could just be honest with each other. Something isn’t being said and that’s purely intuition talking.

I know this may not end well for me. I know you may hate it or think I’m stupid as well, but I’ll keep waiting for you. To be in my life again. However that is. Whatever that looks like. You’re just..you’re more than worth it. In every scenario. Every life time. Just want to be present in your life again. No expectations. Just to be there. But there’s just something in me that can’t let you go.

[onyx-luvrrr]

Reader x William Afton Reader x William Afton Reader x William Afton Reader x William Afton Reader x William Afton Reader x William Afton Reader x William Afton ummm maybe fluff to angst with the whole Afton family being present and then dying?

PLEASE the ballpit we BOTH go also i only did Evan’s death bc i misread the request 🧍 Pairing(s): William Afton x Reader Word Count: 0.5k Pronouns: she/her

[YourName] was completely oblivious to the bullying her youngest son was endearing from her eldest son. I can tell you right now that if she knew- Evan would have never set foot in his father’s pizzeria ever again with Micheal. [YourName] was talking to Henry when the bite had happened. She was too distracted, enjoying the feeling of her husband’s arms around her waist, she didn’t even notice that Micheal had the ‘best idea ever’ and invited his friends to the pizzeria.

It happened all too fast, her son’s pained cries being covered up by happy screams and joyful shouts, but nothing could cover up that loud crunch. It was such an unusual sound. [YourName] turned to see what had caused such a peculiar sound and screamed. The sight of her son’s bloody body hanging from the mouth of a vicious-looking animatronic flooded her vision. She immediately pushed out of her husband’s hold and rushed over to try and get her son out of the bear’s mouth.

“William, fucking help or something!” she cried, trying to support her son’s body. William shook his head and made his way over to assist while Henry called 911. At the hospital, [YourName] sat next to her son’s bed and sobbed. She felt as if she was more involved in her sons’ lives, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. “Honey-” William tried to say something but he was cut off by another sob. “Okay, it’s okay, he’ll make it,” he said, placing his hands on her shaking shoulders and leaning down to press his cheek against her own. 

Micheal was outside, not allowed to see his brother until he explained to the police what had happened. Though it hurt the oldest to hear his mother’s sobs, knowing he did that, knowing he could’ve prevented that if he wasn’t such a dick.

  William Afton; ❥ William may have been a child killer, but watching you become a different person over their son’s death was hard. 

❥ Of course, he mourned his son’s loss too, but watching you go through the process too was hard. ❥ Neither of you blamed Micheal (not you at least), though he did have to sit through you explaining to Elizabeth where Evan went. The whole situation was tense and there were a lot of tears being shed. ❥ William held you as you cried many nights after the death of Evan. ❥ You often brought Elizabeth into the bedroom because you were afraid Micheal may target her next, even if he was mourning the loss of his brother too. ❥ When the children were at school, William would spoil you with breakfast and lunch since you were a stay-at-home mom and the pizzeria was closed for the week. ❥ You often questioned how your husband could even return to work after the whole situation, but he was the money maker of the family– so you never said a word about it. ❥ A lot of reassurance went to your oldest, you didn’t want him to blame himself for Evan’s death. Micheal didn’t know that the bear would clamp down on Evan’s head. ❥ You baby your children more while the situation seemed to make William coldhearted toward his, now, only son. ❥ You and William do end up growing distant after a while, especially when you can't get over your son’s death.

#fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnafsb x reader #five nights at freddy's security breach x reader #william afton x reader #fnaf afton x reader #afton x reader #fnaf william afton x reader

[markberries]

a l o n e  t i m e┊draco malfoy

ALONE TIME — DRACO MALFOY

info: you and the infamous draco malfoy were always at each other’s throats, so when you’re by yourself planning to prank the irritating slytherin, you take this as an opportunity to finally relieve yourself. but of course, things go a little unexpectedly.

warnings: absolute filth, smut smut smUT !! cursing

genre: SMUT, fluff at the end, enemies to lovers, gryffindor!reader word count: 2400+

a/n: ok so like... i got onto dracotok, and decided to write this. it's been awhile so i hope u enjoy!! btw this isnt edited at all (n if u know me irl, no u dont)

god — you absolutely despised draco malfoy.

he reminded you of why you asked the sorting house to not place you into slytherin; he was rude, a smartass, and an asshole.

everyone knew how much you and draco liked to bicker with each other. it's almost as if he knew what got under your skin, or maybe it was because everything he said gave you the urge to tell him to shut up. he would never stop talking about how you would ruin the school's reputation, being an international student from north america.

honestly, arguing with draco had been a regular thing. maybe a few small pranks here and there, but that was only when he had royally pissed you off (it happens quite often). although you did find draco quite attractive, it was completely overlooked by how much of an arse he was.

you sat in the dining hall with your fellow gryffindor students, harry, hermione, and ron. they were the only ones you really talked to, well in your year at least.

from across the room, you locked eyes with draco. you glared at him, then rolled your eyes, focusing your attention back to your three friends.

"seriously y/n, if you want to ace herbology, you're going to need to listen to me," hermione mutters, continuing to go over notes with you.

"sorry, it's just malfoy has been giving me dirty looks, kind of in the mood to punch him right now," you snort, then feeling hermione flick your forehead shortly after. "come on y/n, you can deal with malfoy later."

"how long have you and malfoy been going at each other?" ron asks, "it feels like it's been decades."

you laugh, "it's only been a year, alright? and it's only because he's such an ass."

"me? an ass?" you hear malfoy emitting from behind you, you could practically hear the arrogance dripping from his voice. you roll your eyes, then turn to look at him.

"listen here malfoy," you hiss, "i swear to god, if you don't fuck off, i will personally, beat the shit out of you."

malfoy laughs, looking back at his friends, than back at you. "looks like the pretty girl has a potty mouth," he says through his laughter.

"get out of here malfoy," harry told draco, and draco only replied with the roll of his eyes.

"whatever, potter. see you guys around, and watch yourself, y/n. you never know what's coming."

malfoy leaves after that, and you groan in annoyance. hermione breathes deeply, feeling the same amount of irritation as you.

"how do you put up with his shenanigans? i cannot stand malfoy," ron states, venom lacing his voice when he says malfoy's name.

"well you know," you sigh, "it just never ends. i get him back for doing something to me, and then he does something even worse after, but i don't mind."

harry looks at you with confusion in his eyes, "what do you mean you don't mind? i would definitely mind."

"well," you pause, glancing at draco who is already glaring at you, "i've been thinking. ever wanted to see draco with red hair?"

"oh my god, y/n no! we'll lose a terrible amount of points!" hermione gasps, closing her notebook to convince you that this would be a big mistake.

"it would be worth it," harry chuckles, imagining how draco would react to having gryffindor's colours among his head.

"harry!" hermione snaps.

"by the way y/n, are you coming to the common room party tonight?" ron asks, but you shake your head. "no, i don't think so. i want to prepare for malfoy's new hair do, but i'm sure you will have fun."

"but y/n! i need you there to survive," hermione begs, she's told you before that she was so excited to have another girl in her friend group, if that's what you can call it. she didn't mind being the only girl with ron and harry, but it was a nice change to have you there.

"i'm sorry hermione, next time, i promise!" you smile, winking at her and tilting your head.

"okay.. just be careful with malfoy, alright?"

—

you sat in bed, reading spells that you could do to make draco's hair red. even if there wasn't a spell, you had red hair dye ready to go.

while you were sitting there by yourself, you couldn't help but realize it had been ages since you were left alone, you were almost always surrounded by people, and that means it's been awhile since you had "relieved" yourself.

i shouldn't let an opportunity go to waste, right? you thought to yourself, fuck it.

you placed the book onto your bedside table and removed your cute little pyjama pants that had penguins on them, discarding them onto the floor and sticking a hand down your black lace underwear.

you brought your fingers to your clit, letting out a mewl. it truly felt so nice to finally be able to touch yourself again, after months of not doing anything.

you slowly trailed your fingers to your folds, collecting the building up wetness. you slid your fingers up and down, rubbing on your clit a little more as well. you slapped your free hand onto your mouth to cover up any loud noises.

you moaned to yourself, shutting your eyes as you played with your little bundle of nerves, before sliding a finger into your pussy swiftly, moaning quietly. lost in the moment, you began thinking of draco, sure he was a douche, but he had a pretty face, and that was good enough for you at the moment.

you imagined what it would feel like for his finger to pump into you like this, how it would feel like for him to call you pet names as you moaned.

you slid another finger in, whimpering even louder as you felt the unforgotten feeling of the knot being formed in your stomach. you imagined how it would feel like for draco to kiss you as he finger fucked you, how it would feel like if he curled his fingers in your pussy as you moaned his name.

"draco.." you whimpered quietly.

"oh love," someone said from the shadows.

you immediately froze, retracting your hand from your panties as you scrambled to cover yourself with your blanket. you heard footsteps, and then saw a familiar figure emerge from the darkness.

"what do we have here?" the platinum blonde boy smirked, staring at your embarrassed form on your bed. "never thought someone like you would be wanting me this badly."

"what the fuck, draco?" you whisper-shouted, holding the blanket to your chest and staring at him with furrowed brows, "you better get out of here before you regret being here in the first place."

"ah yes," draco chuckled, walking closer to you, "i would love to leave and tell everyone about how you were moaning my name as you touched yourself." you wanted nothing more than to smack that stupid, hot smirk off of draco's face.

"what the hell do you want?" you asked, quickly looking at what he was wearing. a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of black dress pants.

"i was actually here to dye your hair green, you see, i saw you weren't at the party, and thought you were sleeping, but i can see it's obvious that you weren't. but now," draco explained, "y/n, the question is," he took a seat on your bed, lifting your chin to look into your eyes, "what do you want, hmm?"

his eyes trailed to your exposed neck and shoulders, "do you want me to bend you over like the bad girl you are? or do you want me to fuck you with my fingers, is that it?"

you stayed silent.

you hated the fact that you could feel yourself getting wetter as he spoke, and you hated how much you wanted him. you wanted him to do all those things, and more. you wanted him to make you say his name, you wanted to tangle your fingers in his hair as he fucked you.

"perhaps i misread the situation," draco said, rising from his position and dusting off his pants. "i better be going, crabbe and goyle may be looking for me already."

you grabbed his arm, "draco malfoy, i swear to god that if you don't fuck me, i will kill you." draco smirks at you once again, "now that's something i'd like to hear."

draco gets into your bed as you lower the blanket, exposing your top half, only being covered by your bra. he gets on top of you, kissing you with desire and hunger. you moan into his mouth as you feel him unhook your bra and grab your breast. he takes this as the perfect chance to slip his tongue into your mouth, asserting dominance with your own.

he breaks the kiss, panting to take off his own clothes and throw them onto the ground.

"you know, i always thought you were hot," malfoy says, and you scoff. he throws your bra onto the floor as well, before getting on top of you again and kissing your neck.

"i never thought that i'd get to fuck you, though."

you palm him through his boxers, and he groans, hardening quicker by the minute. he bites down softly on your neck, making you gasp. he drags his hand down to your clothed heat, rubbing you through the thin fabric.

you bite down on your lip, wrapping your arms around draco's neck. he kisses your collarbone, before tucking his hand in your panties, playing with your clit between his two fingers.

"love, i think these drenched undies of yours are gonna have to go," he says, grabbing the elastic part, pulling it back and then letting it go, slapping your skin lightly. "mind if i take them off?"

you quickly shake your head no, and he puts on that smug smile of his, before going down to crotch level, and sliding your panties down in a one, quick movement.

"god, i bet you imagined this," draco muttered, sliding a finger into your already soaking core. "all prettied up for me, saying my name.."

he slowly inserts a finger into you, pumping in and out slowly. "fuck, draco!" you moan, grabbing onto the bed sheets. it feels so much better to have him with his finger inside you, pressing light kisses to your stomach.

he inserts another finger, pumping faster this time. "how do i make you feel, hmm? how much did you want this? did you want to come with my fingers inside you?"

draco keeps his fingers inside you, thrusting them at a steady pace, but he comes up to look at your face. you screw your eyes shut, enveloping yourself in the pleasure.

"look at me, love," draco says sternly, making you lock eyes with him. he puts another finger inside you. "do you want to come like this?"

you nod furiously, intertwining your fingers in his hair. "oh god draco.. i'm gonna come.. fuck.."

suddenly, draco removes his fingers from your insides, chuckling to himself as he sees your face form into a vicious glare, almost as if you were ready to slap him. you clenched around nothing, irritated with draco for retracting his fingers as you were just about to reach your high.

"what the fuck, draco?" you yelled, he just laughed and sat up from his position.

"we're just getting to the good part, love, and you're lucky i brought condoms just in case. now be a good girl and turn around for me, yeah?"

you quickly obliged, scrambling to get on your hands and knees as draco rolls on the condom.

"tell me how much you want this," draco whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. he lines up with your entrance, only waiting for your word.

"i want this so much," you say, panting.

draco squeezes your ass, "not good enough."

"for fuck sakes draco, i want you to fuck me. i want you to mess up my insides and make me moan your name. that's what i want, malfoy."

draco doesn't help himself after that, he thrusts into you, making you yelp and grab a fistful of the bed sheets. you clench around him, making him groan out in pleasure. "do that again, fuck. it feels so good to be inside you like this."

malfoy grabs the headboard, slamming into you at a moderate speed, and you could feel your high approaching.

"you take my dick so well, y/n, i've wanted nothing more than to take you into my room and fuck you just like this," he admits. the sound of your skin slapping is the only thing that could be heard in the room, other than the party going on in the common room.

you feel a knot forming as draco hits a spot in you, making you whimper. "right.. there.. fuck!" you yell, as draco continues to hit the same spot.

"i'm gonna come," draco grunts, picking up the pace and biting his lip. "are you gonna come with me, love?"

"yes! yes! i'm gonna... fucking come!" you moan, your arms almost giving out as draco's thrusts become deeper and faster.

"come then, i wanna hear you scream my name," draco groans, slapping your ass lightly. "f-fuck! i'm-"

"draco!" you cry out in pleasure, as the knot in your stomach untangles in the most euphoric way. draco pulls out, taking off the condom and throwing it in the trash. you collapse on the bed, breathing heavily with sweat glistening on every inch of your body. you feel a dip in the bed beside you, and you hear draco panting.

"well," draco says, facing you. you turn your head to see him with a confident grin on his face. "unexpected, huh?"

"yeah whatever, shut up malfoy," you reply, now turning to lay on your back, but still looking at draco. "still don't like you."

"i think different," he teased, playing with strands of your hair. "i think you like me."

you scoff, "as if! i just needed some dick."

"okay y/n, whatever you say," he grinned, "but how about i take you out to hogsmeade, and lets see if you have a change in heart."

#draco malfoy #harry potter #draco smut #draco fluff #draco imagine #draco scenario #ron weasley #hermione granger #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine

[thevoidscreams]

I don't care which slashers/killers you do for this BUT...... May I have some killers hcs meeting their male s/o for the first time? 🥺👉👈

also I know I need to get through what little writings I have planned done and out so I can do these in return and maybe do somethin for ya

I really tried here, I'm sorry if it's not exactly what you wanted. I love these two and I wanted to write more for them. Please let me know if you'd like me to change them at all or if they seem wrong.

Ghostface:

Danny Johnson did not have a tolerant upbringing. His family, despite lacking any sort of faith, was a family built on the foundation that men only slept with women. That's just how it was and that that was how nature had kept things going. When Danny realized he didn't just get hard when looking at naked girls however, life became a lot harder. Literally.

Collage was the escape he needed. He took off and never looked back. Ghosting his family before it was a regular thing. He could finally be who he really was.

The first time he saw you was at a party and he knew something was different. Just introducing himself felt like a life or death situation, he couldn't fuck this up. Some deep part of him needed you to like him, needed you to want him. Danny man not have called it love at first sight but it was definitely something. When you left you took his number and promised to hang out later. You had similar schedules so it would be easy. Right?

You threw a wrench into every plan he'd set in place. All his aspiring affairs with other people died the moment you gave him your name. Your perfect name.

Danny begins every morning thinking about you and would lay down at night with you on his mind till he faded into sleep. Everyday for months you plague his thoughts. Your chill sessions are basically dates in his mind. Even if it's just bumming it on the dorm couches with Mariocart and eating cheap greasy pizza. He cherishes every moment. It has to be more, he thinks, your too nice, too friendly and some of your remarks could be taken as flirting. You're not like this with your other friends. Just with him.

He plans to ask you out but for the first time in his life he's scared by the idea of getting a no. The thought of being rejected by you makes him feel legitimately sick to his stomach. What if he's misread all your signals and your disgusted by his advances. What if you call him all the awful things his old high-school friends did when he came out to them. He needs you to know how he feels, keeping it all in is making him feel anxious.

He was mulling it over in his mind when he got a call, answering it to hear your voice caused a sudden feeling of euphoria within him. "Hey, can we meet up?" Your voice was shaky and you sounded unsure. But Danny agreed right away, assuring you he had the time and was happy to meet up.

You two got coffee together all the time but today there was something more to it. The way you laughed and bumped his shoulder with your fist, the way you smiled awkwardly like you were trying to keep something from him. Danny was getting worried as he looked down at you. "Is everything alright shortstake? You seem off today."

You took a deep breath and looked him right in the eyes. "DannyIlikeyou" you blurted out cheeks red and eyes wide in panic. "I'm sorry I just I couldn't do it anymore," you looked away, "keeping it all in made me feel so awful and I just needed you to know. I'll understand if you don't feel the same way about me and if you don't want to see me again I'll understand that too but-"

He kissed you, right there in front of all of the coffee shop patrons and employees. To his amazement a few people wooped and clapped.

Danny pulled away, he took his coffee in one hand and then your hand in his other.

"Let's go somewhere more private."

He led you to a little pond, there were ducks and water lilies. It was quiet, peaceful, the perfect place to have a heart to heart.

The talk that followed was long and he explained at great lengths how he felt about you.

You confirmed some of the things he suspected, embarrassed by how easily he read you. At the end of it all you were both a bit teary eyed.

"So I guess what I'm trying to say here is, I love you." You did cry after hearing that, so happy and relieved he felt the same way. You kissed him, and he responded in kind, with only the ducks as witnesses this time. They didn't make a peep about the kiss....but they did quack.

Thomas Hewitt:

Tommy knew something was different the first time he met you. You were just a new hire at the meat plant but he couldn't take his eyes off you. The poor thing didn't know what to do. So he just watched. Intrigued by the feelings he felt when he did.

"Good morning Thomas." You'd nod as you passed him to get to your work station. He'd grunt in reply and nod. Happy to see you.

"Hey Tom, lunch time! Thank God for lunch breaks am I right?" Your hand was firm as you passed him, clapping his shoulder. He liked when you touched him, no one ever touched him unless he was also being yelled at. But your touch was different and it was good.

"See ya tomorrow Tommy." You groaned tiredly after a long shift, promising to see him tomorrow. He hoped to see you everyday for the rest of his life.

It was a system, a pattern, it was something Tommy relied on, like a clock, you were on time and followed the routine.

Except this morning, you weren't here. The supervisor was passing by to inspect the work station.

"Where the hell is that freaky bastard at?" He asked pointing to your station. Tommy shrugged, he didn't know, probably the bathroom. "Yeah well you might want to keep your distance, I heard from some the other guys that he's one of them men lovers. If it were up to me he'dhave never come here, but the boss says we're 'short staffed'." The snicker that bubbled up from him was disgusting and he mouthed off a few insults and slurs before walking off to finished his rounds.

Tommy was angry, more than usual at least. He wanted to take that supervisor's head and crush it under his mallet. Instead he stripped his apron off and went to the bathroom. Still a tiny part of him was happy, glad to know he wasn't alone.

The bathroom was never locked, it couldn't be, the lock was broken and building management was too cheap to replace it. So Tommy pushed through the door and listened. A soft rhythmic sound greeted him. Soft uneven breathing, muffled by the walls of the stall. He knew that sound, it was all too personal to him.

He stepped in front of the stall and their sounds turned panicked like they knew they'd been caught.

He knocked on the wood so gently and as it swung open he confirmed his suspensions. Your eyes were red and swollen, a large bruise on your cheek. Tommy saw red as he looked over your generally disheveled appearance.

You were trying to hide the fact that you'd been crying.

"Hey Tommy, what's happening brother? The uh... supervisor send you in here to find me or something?" When you tried to push past him to get to the sinks Thomas stopped you with one big arm.

"Uh you good?" Your voiced trembled and it torn Tommy apart to hear the man he loved so distressed. His big arms pulled you in, holding your smaller body against his massive one. He just didn't care anymore, he didn't care if you knew, or if the whole world knew. People already called him a freak for the way he looked. They were wrong, Thomas wasn't a freak, not for the way he looked or for the way he felt. Neither were you for that matter. When you hugged him back his heart soared. "Thank you." You cried softly, face buried in his chest.

The gentle giant wiped a tear away, carefully as not to agitated the bruise. He grunted and ran his thumb around the edge of the darkening spot.

"Don't worry about that, some of the guys found out about my...well I'm sure you know or have at least heard." Thomas nodded, still holding you. "We should probably get back to our stations."

Tommy was hesitant but he let you go to wash your face and fix your appearance. Things were going to be hard for the both of you. But hard was nothing new to him he was used to fighting for equal footing with others, fighting to get what he wanted always fighting. But this time it really was something worth fighting for. This time it was you.

#dbd x reader #slasher x reader #male reader #ghostface x reader #danny johnson x reader #ghostface x male reader #danny johnson x male reader #leatherface x reader #thomas brown hewitt x reader #leatherface x male reader #thomas hewitt x male reader

[possiamo-andare]

Just You (3)

JJ x Reader x Rafe (love triangle)

MASTERLIST

word count: 5k

a/n: I can't believe it's been eight months since I updated this fic. y'all are probably dead by now and this will prolly get no notes lmao but I finally wrote the next chapter and it's so good in my opinion so please don't be too mad. enjoy!

~

Y/N needed complete silence when she was reading. If she didn’t, it was almost impossible for her to even read one page. As a child, in a room full of other screaming children, Y/N found it almost impossible to read. Most of her teachers misread this difficulty with an inability to read, which was not the case. This miscommunication actually worked in Y/N’s favour because the extra attention resulted in a greater love for reading. Y/N soon found herself reading everyday and even found it hard to put down a book. When she couldn’t get a physical copy of a book, she then went online and delved into a world where people created their own worlds and fantasies for their readers. Reading had become one of Y/N’s favourite hobbies and she could do it for hours.

Unfortunately, tonight was different. At around 6pm, just as Y/N picked up a book to read, loud music began to play from a distance. At first, Y/N tried to ignore it but soon, like mentioned before, the music began to get louder, and Y/N could not focus on the words before her. The more she tried to focus, the more distracted she became by the music. Soon, she could focus on nothing but the blaring music coming from across the street. Finally, after ten minutes of pure agony, Y/N got up from her bed and stormed down the stairs of her home. Her face is red with anger, and she desperately wants to know who the hell thinks playing loud music on a Tuesday night is acceptable. Unfortunately, she knows the answer the second she enters her kitchen.

Her parents are laughing with each other as they make their favourite snack. Every night, her parents make their favourite foods together as a way to unwind and talk about their day. Sometimes they shared it with Y/N and her siblings but on nights where her siblings were out with their friends and Y/N was the only one home, they usually just spent time with each other. Y/N hesitated for a moment and smiled to herself, thinking about how sweet her parents truly are. She wonders if the person she marries will have this type of relationship with her. She wonders, years from now, how she will look back on her time in OBX. She hopes she looks back with fondness. The moment is ruined though because her mother quickly looks up from the stove, a toothy grin on her face.

“Hello darling.” Y/N’s mother chirps. She reads her daughter's distraught face and since she can hear the music too, she knows why her daughter is upset. Without even letting Y/N speak, she answers the question clearly in her daughter's mind. “Ward Cameron’s son, Rafe, is throwing a party across the street. You can go if you want.”

Y/N snorts. “That boy has been rudely staring at me since we got here, and you think I should go to his house?”

This time, Y/N’s father turns around from the cabinet. “I hear JJ’s gonna be there.” There’s a small smirk on his face and it instantly grabs Y/N’s attention.

She tried to brush it off. “Well, I don’t really like loud music.”

Y/N’s mother scoffs. “Yes, you do.”

Y/N nods, tucking her hair behind her ears. She knows that if there’s even a hint of JJ being at the party, she wants to go. “You’re right, I do.”

Y/N had not been to a party in years. The last time she had it was in her first year of high school. She had just moved to that new school only weeks before and had made only a couple of friends. The friends she did make were nice and invited her to a party. The party was okay, and she enjoyed herself, but she was very awkward because she barely knew anyone. She promised that from now on, she would only go to parties where she knew more than one person. Now, she found herself breaking that rule just to see JJ.

Since Y/N was in her pajamas, she ran back up to her room to change. She didn’t want to waste too much time picking out clothes to wear so she quickly looked through her closet and found a white sundress with small blue flowers decorating the material. She had never worn this dress and, when she first bought it, was unsure if she liked it because it was shorter than what she was used to but now, she was glad she did.

She lay her sundress on her bed for a moment and turned to her mirror, where she kept a cabinet full of makeup. Before she even put on any makeup, she looked back up in the mirror for the second time. As she finally had a chance to breathe, she realized her breath was unsteady and her hands were shaking. It was hard for Y/N to put herself out there. Most times, she was afraid of the rejection, or even at the fact that the friends she did have would be gone. But she remembered her parents' words. She was to stay in OBX for the rest of the year. She would make friends here. She would have a life here. With a deep breath, Y/N began to get ready for the night.

~

Y/N keeps fidgeting with her hair. She knows the more she fidgets, the more upset she’ll be with how she looks but she seriously can’t help it. She only does this when she’s extremely nervous and she knows why. She’s two feet away from Rafe’s front door and the music has somehow gotten louder. It’s almost as if he’s continuously trying to play the music louder to get her attention. Of course, she knows that to not be true, but still, Y/N had realized that in the last twenty minutes since she had decided to get ready for the party and walked across the street, the music had indeed gotten louder. She rolled her eyes as she approached the door, the loud music getting annoying. At this rate, Rafe Cameron would be deaf by the time he was 30. Y/N pretended not to care if he went deaf at all, but a tiny voice inside her head told her that she had to care for him because no one else would.

With a deep breath, she knocks on the door. She doesn’t think anyone would hear it because of how loud the music is but it’s worth a try. She was raised to have manners and would not just enter someone’s house before knocking.

To her surprise, only a few moments later, the doorknob twisted quickly and someone on the other end of the door opened it. It was as if someone had been patiently waiting by the door all night, opening it in hopes that she would come. Of course, she knew this to not be true because the person who greeted her was none other than Rafe Cameron. And he found her annoying.

Y/N couldn’t help but admit how delicious he looked. He wasn’t dressed in his usual preppy attire, no. He wore these ripped, distressed black jeans and a fitted white shirt with a baseball cap to match. It wasn’t necessarily his style that had him looking so delightful but his face. He seemed very relaxed. In fact, this was the most relaxed she’d ever seen him. His usual straight posture was now more curled and casual. His face, which had always been pale and gray, was now filled with colour. He wore a cute blush across his cheeks and nose, and on top of the blush was a patch of light brown freckles here and there. Y/N figured he must’ve been in the sun all day. That and he was also high out of his mind.

“Y/N…” He trailed, his eyes glancing at her dress momentarily before returning to her face. Y/N feels a little self conscious under his gaze. She wasn’t exactly confident in her outfit tonight and he seemed, for the first time in forever, more confident than her. “You, um, you’re - you’re very…”

She involuntarily snickers, not realizing she’s doing it until Rafe hears it. His face changes into a dark frown and she has a deep need to apologize. He was probably just trying to be polite, and Y/N must’ve caught him just as his high was reaching its climax. “I’m what exactly?”

Rafe rolls his eyes, knowing that she’s teasing him. “You’re not invited.”

Well, she can’t say she exactly feels welcome right now, standing at the threshold of his door. He still hasn’t even let her in.

Y/N scoffs, her feelings only hurt a little. Although he didn’t look preppy, he looked just as douchy. “Well, your music’s so loud it could wake the dead. Maybe if you didn’t want uninvited people to come, don’t make it so obvious that you’re having a party.”

Rafe scoffs this time. “Aw, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt your bedtime?” He takes a swig of his beer bottle and Y/N almost forgets that he’s obviously been drinking. “Were you having a little read before you went to bed? Lemme guess; you were re-reading the Vagina Diaries for the tenth time?”

Y/N’s chest twinges with pain just a little, knowing that the book was on her bookshelf with a worn-out spine. He seemed to know her very well, but it only angered her because he got the answer right. “It’s actually Vagina Monologues, but nice try. I guess for someone who hasn’t opened a book in their life, the Vagina Monologues would be interesting.”

Rafe chuckles and she has a small urge to kiss the corners of his smile. Thankfully, once she swallows harshly, the urge disappears. “Just come in and don’t put your hippie feet anywhere near my furniture.” He finally steps aside, and Y/N takes that as the kindest invitation she’s gonna get from him.

“You mean, your parents' furniture.” She puts one foot in front of the other and tries to remember how to walk. Although it may not seem like it, she’s nervous. She’s not too good with crowds. As she passes Rafe, she can smell his cologne and she feel as though she might faint. For such an annoying boy, he really was intoxicating.

Rafe is not given enough time to throw a snide remark back in her face because someone has entered Y/N and Rafe’s little bubble. It’s another very handsome boy but this time, he’s sweet. He’s wearing preppy clothes (cargo shorts and a pink polo shirt - big shocker there) but he’s not preppy at all when he introduces himself.

“Hey! I’m Kelso; nice to meet ya!” He gives Y/N a half hug because his other hand is holding a beer, but she still gets the sentiment that he’s friendly. His hand respectfully lays on Y/N’s shoulder and Y/N actually hugs him back even though that’s not her thing with strangers.

“I’m Y/N, and it’s nice to meet you too!”

She watches as his brows go from a relaxed arch to a surprised arch instantly. It seems that whatever she has said has caught him by surprise. “Oh? You’re Y/N?” Kelso looks to Rafe for a moment, his eyes narrowing in amusement. Rafe tries to indirectly tell him to stop by flipping him off, but it only encourages Kelso. “I guess we have you to thank for this incredible party then!”

Y/N frowns, turning around to look at Rafe. They’re still in the entryway of his house and she hasn’t so much as taken in her surroundings, but this seems too important to ignore. What does Kelso mean? Did Rafe throw this party in hopes that she’d come? There was no way. Doesn’t Rafe find her completely annoying and obnoxious? If so, why would Kelso say such a thing?

“He’s joking right?” Y/N tries to confirm from Rafe but by his meek smile and his cheeks that have only gotten redder since she entered his home, she knows there’s some truth in what Kelso is saying.

Rafe shrugs, trying to come up with a lie. He had confided in Kelso as a way to relieve the stress that liking Y/N has caused but instead, Kelso just had to mess it up. “Well, not exactly.” His mouth is forming a lie before his brain can even properly think of one. “I mentioned to Kelso that you’ve probably never been to a party in OBX, so he must’ve thought I threw it for you.”

Y/N nods, confused as to why she feels a little sad. For some reason, a little part of her hoped that Rafe had thrown a party for her to notice him but alas, it had all been a misunderstanding. “Oh, well, okay.”

Except it wasn’t a misunderstanding at all. Rafe had told Kelso that the only reason he was throwing this party was for Y/N to notice him in a new light. He knew she thought he was just another annoying preppy Kook and he wanted to change that. He thought maybe, just maybe, if she had fun tonight with him, she’d finally start to see him as he truly was, a loveable dork. Unfortunately, that seems to be ruined now.

Before any more words can be exchanged, someone yells for Y/N. She instantly looks to the crowd of people in Rafe's backyard and sees JJ and Pope. The door to his backyard is open so the yelling is clear and not muddled by a barrier. They seemed to have been yelling for a while because they looked exasperated. Y/N watches as JJ stands from his lawn chair and motions for her to come sit beside them. She smiles for one of the first times tonight and nods, the pressure on her chest lifting when she sees her two friends. She wanted to take to Rafe later and get the full story because she had a feeling, he wasn’t telling her the complete truth, but she wanted to greet her friends first. She’d get to Rafe later. For now, she wanted to relax.

When Y/N departed from Rafe and Kelso, awkwardly waving goodbye before maneuvering to the back of Rafe’s house, Kelso spoke first.

“Dude, why didn’t you tell me she didn’t know this party was for her?”

Rafe glared at his friend. “You really think I’d tell her that. Now she probably thinks I’m even more creepy than before.”

Kelso rolls his eyes at how dramatic his friend was. “You didn’t see her reaction, bro. I don’t know if she even knows it herself, but she definitely likes you.”

Rafe rolls his eyes. He doesn’t allow for his hope to rise because he knows it’s not true. He can’t let himself have any more hope that the new girl in OBX would want to have anything to do with him. She can’t like him because no girl like her ever has. So, instead, he steals glances at her for the rest of the night and hopes to God he can get high enough to forget about the beautiful girl across the street.

~

Y/N tried to enjoy herself, she really did. And to JJ’s credit, he tried to help her relax and have some fun. She drank the beer that was offered to her, danced with JJ and Pope, and even took two puffs of JJ’s joint. But, although she felt thoroughly buzzed, Rafe never left her mind. She tried to throw a few sneaky glances his way the entire night, but she couldn’t find him. She even left her spot beside JJ and pretended to get a refill on his nasty beer just to see if she could spot Rafe. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be seen. At first, she thought it was just because she wasn’t looking hard enough but soon, after three whole hours of not seeing Rafe even once, she realized he was avoiding her. And if he was avoiding her, it meant that he was embarrassed from their conversation at the beginning of the night. Which meant that he lied, and he had in fact thrown this party just for her.

This revelation crept into her mind slowly throughout the night but when it finally sunk in, she was speechless. She didn’t know how to react. Sure, there was a slim chance that he had been telling the truth but the less she saw of Rafe at his own party, the more she realized that he had lied to her.

JJ had noticed how off Y/N seemed. When they had seen each other earlier in the day for her surfing lessons, he had made a fool out of himself. They had been practising for a few hours before they both called it quits, deciding to pick it back up the next day. Before departing, JJ offered her ice cream for a hard day's work, and she gladly accepted. They both ordered the same flavour (mint chocolate chip - he swore they were soulmates because of this) and ate it as they talked. When they were both finally finished, Y/N went to hug him goodbye, but he instead extended his hand awkwardly for her to shake. She seemed slightly embarrassed, but he was even more so. He had wanted to hug her but didn’t want to without her permission, so he thought a handshake was the safe bet. Unfortunately, he thought wrong and now, that awkward interaction was burned into the back of his mind. He was worried that’s why Y/N seemed so detached, barely speaking. When she had gone to refill her cup, JJ looked to Pope for advice. He had never been so needy for a girl’s approval before and since Pope seemed to want everyone to like him, JJ thought he’d give the best advice.

“So,” JJ sighs and he finishes telling the story of their awkward interaction. “Do you think that’s why she’s been so quiet?”

Pope snorted. “JJ, I think it’s just you. I doubt she even remembers it.”

Although his friend tried his best to reassure JJ, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was burdening Y/N’s mind. But, before JJ could continue his conversation with Pope, Y/N reappeared with a glass full of beer and a somber face. The topic was not brought up again.

JJ had been right though. Something was burdening Y/N’s mind. It’s not everyday that a girl finds out a boy who she thought saw her as a bothersome girl actually saw her as much more. It’s a difficult experience to relate to and not a problem Y/N thought she would have. Apparently, Rafe was better at hiding his true feelings than she thought. She had always assumed that when she’d catch him peeking through his window, watching her ride her bike with her brothers or bask in the sun as she read another book, he was judging her. She assumed he was making fun of her and her hippie family. And when they had first met in the main office of her school, it only solidified in her mind that he saw her as a joke. But instead, he might’ve actually liked her. You clearly only watch people in that way if you hate them or like them and since it clearly wasn’t hate…

No. She wouldn’t let her mind go there. Besides, even if he liked her, who was to say if she even liked him? He had been nothing but rude to her, even when he had technically invited her to this party. He called her a hippie (not offensive by itself but when Rafe said it, it might as well have been), watched her from his window with a scowl, and was a complete snob. If Y/N knew what was good for her, she’d stay far, far away from Rafe and anyone he associated with. But Y/N was a dumb teenage girl and curiosity got the better of her. She needed to find another good excuse to go inside and search one last time for Rafe.

The excuse presented itself when JJ made a small remark of how thirsty he was. Y/N jumped at the opportunity to refill his drink, even though he offered to go himself. But she insisted, taking his cup from his hands before he could argue any longer. As she made her way back inside, her eyes looking for the handsome brunette, Pope leaned closer to JJ.

“See? And you thought she didn’t like you?”

JJ nodded, feeling better about the whole ordeal. Unfortunately, if he knew why she truly had wanted to venture inside, it’s doubtful he would have felt better. He probably would’ve felt worse. But he didn’t know, and he wouldn’t know for a while longer.

Y/N first made her way to Rafe’s huge kitchen where all the kegs were lined up. Half of them were already empty but the night was coming to a close and soon, half the party would leave and only Rafe’s closest friends would stick around until 5am. It was midnight now and although she didn’t have a curfew, she wanted to be home by at least 1am. So, as she filled only JJ’s cup, she decided against filling her own. She didn’t want to be too tipsy in case she ran into Rafe. Although, by this time, she thought it was very unlikely that she’d ever see him.

Just as that thought crossed her mind though, another person entered the kitchen. Y/N recognized him immediately. It was Topper. They had never interacted much, just a brief wave whenever she’d pass his house when she rode her bike. If he was outside, which he had only been once or twice, he’d wave, and she’d wave back. Other than that, they never spoke. Until now.

He stood beside her, filling two glasses with beer. His blond hair was wet and sticking to his forehead, but his hands were so full, and he was so drunk he didn’t seem to notice. Y/N had seen Rafe’s pool, but she did not find herself on that side of his house for many reasons (the pool was on the other side of the backyard, she didn’t bring a bathing suit, and her mind was busy with more important matters). Topper seemed to be struggling with refilling two cups, his hands shaking just a little. Y/N instantly registered that he needed help and decided that busying herself with assisting Topper would help take her mind off Rafe.

“Here,” Y/N offered, setting JJ’s cup down on the counter. “Let me help.” She takes one of the glasses from Topper and begins to fill it up, all the while keeping an eye on Topper to make sure he doesn’t spill the other cup.

“Thanks.” He mumbles, swaying back and forth to the music that is blaring from somewhere inside Rafe’s house. Y/N can’t help but smile a little at this giddy boy who would otherwise be embarrassed for acting so weird if he was not so drunk.

Unfortunately, not even helping Topper can keep Y/N’s mind off Rafe. She wonders that since Rafe must’ve told Kelso something about her, Rafe could’ve confided in Topper too. From the gossip that JJ had told her, Topper used to date Sarah but even after they broke up, Rafe and Topper remained friends. So maybe, just maybe, Rafe had said something to Topper about her? She figured even if she asked Topper, it would never get back to Rafe. Topper was clearly drunk and would not remember the conversation he had with Y/N. No harm, no foul. Right?

Unfortunately, that idea was quickly squashed because just as she began to open her mouth, someone else entered the room. It was Rafe.

Rafe had skillfully avoided Y/N all night, while still stealing glancing her way. He never noticed that she too had been looking for him. He was so nervous that he’d eventually bump into her that he would make Kelso check every room before he entered it. Unfortunately, Kelso was drunk by midnight and could no longer help Rafe. Rafe tried to let it go, figuring you were probably gone by now. So, he asked Topper to refill his cup as he helped Kelso into his mom’s car. But, when Topper still hadn’t returned by the time Rafe entered his home, he thought there was no harm in checking up on him. Apparently, there was a lot of harm in that.

And now, there they stood, facing each other for the first time since the beginning of the night. Rafe wanted to turn back around and leave but he had always made a fool of himself, and he knew that if he awkwardly left without acknowledging Y/N, she’d surely think even lower of him. So, as soon as their eyes made contact, Rafe awkwardly raised his hand and waved. He could feel the awkward smile painted across his face and Y/N seemed to mimic him.

“Hey.” He squeaked out, taking both cups from Topper before speaking to his friend. He figured the less he looked at Y/N, the less awkward he would feel. He was wrong. “Top, why don’t you lie down on the couch. I’ll bring the beers soon.”

Topper only nodded, slowly making his way out of the kitchen, leaving his friend and Y/N in there alone. Alone for the first time since the beginning of the night. Both their pairs of eyes were trained on their drinks; Y/N was clutching onto JJ’s and Rafe held one for him and one for Topper. No one spoke for a while. Y/N had waited all night to get Rafe alone, just so they could talk and now she didn’t know what to say. She awkwardly shifted the weight in her feet, unable to think of the first thing she wanted to say. They were only five feet apart, but they might as well have been worlds away.

Rafe was in agony and decided to get it over with. He spoke first. “So, are you enjoying the party?” He spoke so formally, as if he was chatting with his grandmother, but he was too uncomfortable to speak any other way.

Y/N nodded, relieved he had taken the first leap forward. “Um, yeah. Never knew that kids could throw parties like this.”

Rafe smiled for a moment, happy that she was so amazed at his dullest party of the year. His heart fluttered at the thought of Y/N dancing in that beautiful white dress with him. Holding onto him as they swayed to the music, pulling her close. Close enough to -

“So, Rafe, I wanted to talk about earlier.” Y/N began, playing with the skin around her nails. It was a nervous tick she had yet to get rid of.

Those eight words destroyed Rafe. At that moment, he knew she had not believed his original lie. He wasn’t too surprised though. He was a shitty liar and Y/N seemed to pick on everything he did. Although he would rather rip his fingernails off one by one than have this uncomfortable conversation with Y/N, he knew he’d have to give her the answers she was looking for. Even if that meant embarrassing himself.

Finally, he nodded. “Um, uh, okay. What’s up?”

Y/N began to speak but before she could get a coherent sentence out, someone else entered the kitchen, making a bunch of noise as he did. Their eyes met instantly and when she recognized who he was, her back straightened slightly as if she had been caught in a salacious act. It was JJ.

“Y/N, what's taking so long?” He stops just after he enters the kitchen and as soon as his eyes go to Rafe, his smile drops. He’s confused beyond belief. He doesn’t know why Y/N is speaking to Rafe. He didn’t even know they knew each other. “Uh, am I interrupting something?”

Y/N forces a smile, glancing at Rafe briefly before walking past him and towards JJ. She hands JJ his cup and he gladly takes it, a look of pure confusion written on his face. “No, Rafe was just asking me if I am enjoying my first party in Outer Banks.”

JJ's eyes shift to Rafe, whose face is pure white. “Really? How… kind?”

Y/N knows JJ is suspicious so to curve his focus back on her, she reaches up to cup one side of his face. JJ’s eyes instantly fall back onto her, a small smile back on his lips. “Walk me home, JJ. I’m getting tired.”

JJ nods sweetly, placing his hand over the one that’s cupping his cheek. “Sure. Go get your stuff and I’ll meet you at the front of the house.”

Y/N looks back to Rafe one more time, a small smile on her face. Rafe pushes his lips into a thin line, nodding goodbye to her. She does the same, leaving the kitchen as quietly as she entered. Y/N’s afraid to leave JJ and Rafe alone but she really has no reason to stay any longer. She hopes that she can get Rafe alone soon so they can have an actual conversation. Tonight, was kind of a disaster but being with JJ and having such a fun time with him made up for it. She knows JJ is the type of guy she should be with. He’s fun and carefree and they’re too much alike to not get along. Even though this is all true and she does have feelings for JJ, there is a part of her that yearns for Rafe. And that part scares her.

Once Y/N is gone, JJ’s smile drops, and he turns back to Rafe with a menacing glare. “Look, I don’t know what your game is here, but I really like Y/N. We both know you’re not her type. So do both of us a favour and leave her alone.”

And with that, JJ was gone too. Leaving Rafe alone.

Even with all these people in his house, Rafe never felt more alone.

~

taglist: @tovvaa @canyoubuymetoast @multisimpinghoe (sorry to these queens for waiting so long lmaooo)

#jj maybank #rafe cameron #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic #rafe x reader #jj x you #jj one shot #jj fanfiction #rafe fluff #rafe x you #rafe imagine #rafe cameron obx #outerbanks #outer banks fic #obx #obx s2

[kythed]

what love tastes like

terushima yuuji x reader

synopsis: in which you learn that falling in love tastes like monster

--

“Taste,” he says. He holds the cold rim of a freshly opened can to your lips, and first it’s metallic, salty, but then it’s sweet. 

You take a sip. 

“So you’re telling me you’ve never tried Monster before?” he asks, taking a drink himself. The two of you are sitting on a park bench across the street from a gas station. He licks his lips-- the silver ball embedded in his tongue winks at you, a shallow token of youthful rebellion that somehow seems more significant on him. 

“Never. I’m more of a Dr. Pepper girl.” You reach for the can again, letting the saccharine liquid sloshing inside coat your tongue. It’s really too much for me, you think. But of course, you won’t tell him that. 

“Not anymore,” he says, and he slips a firm hand around the back of your neck, pulling you towards him and daring you to look away with a wicked grin-- it’s attractive, to say the least. “Now you’re my girl.” 

You’ve barely parted your lips to respond before his mouth is on yours, tongue halfway down your throat, and you’re whimpering into the kiss as he snakes a hand down your back and presses your body to his. The whole ordeal tastes like Monster and feels far more energizing than the packaging promises. 

Within your first day of meeting him, Terushima Yuuji has already claimed you as his own. 

And you’re okay with it.

--

He’s about as healthy for you as the Monster is-- which is to say, not at all. 

In your next couple months of dating him, this becomes apparent. He takes you to the edge of the woods at twilight and lights your first cigarette, laughing as you take a draw and end up coughing. Plucking it from your fingers, he holds the cig high as smoke curls into the hazy sky and eventually melds with the faintly orange cumuli. “Guess it’ll take a little practice before you can smoke with the big dogs, huh?”

You flush and snatch it back, determined to prove your aptitude for defiance. By the end of the night, you can blow smoke rings-- he applauds, and for some odd reason your heart swells at his lazy grin. 

(The next kiss tastes like tobacco and novelty.)

He shows you each of his tattoos, some of which peek out from underneath his clothes, some of which aren’t exactly visible to the onlooker’s eye. There’s a tendril of ivy climbing down his forearm, a flock of wild cranes taking flight from his left shoulder. A dark silhouette is on his chest, kneeling low to who knows what. You trace the image of an unlit candle on the back of his neck, asking what it means-- for a millisecond, his mouth tightens into an expressionless line, but then he laughs. “Why, you want one too? Let’s go to the parlor then.” 

When you decline, he takes a permanent marker from his bedside table and prints a small label on your inner wrist. ‘Mine’ it says, accompanied by an oddly appropriate smiley face. “Then this will have to do.”

(This kiss tastes like ink and enigma.) 

He brings you to a decrepit manor on the outskirts of town-- legend has it a young, newly wealthy couple purchased it twenty years ago, unaware its foundations rested on a centuries old cemetery. The spiteful spirits drove them to the brink of madness. The sort of madness that could only be alleviated by the resounding finality of death. 

“They were found hanging from their bedsheets in the west wing,” Yuuji whispers to you, his breath tickling your ear. An unwanted tremor runs from your head to your high-tops. You don’t believe in ghosts, so it must be because you’re cold. (At least, that’s what you tell yourself.) “I want that kind of love.” 

You turn, surprised to see his expression remains entirely serious. “The kind where you die for one another?”

“The kind where you die with one another,” he corrects, wistfully gazing into the dingy bay windows protruding from the manor’s anterior. 

You remain silent. 

“Life is just an accumulation of bad decisions, and love is just an accumulation of bad decisions you make with another person,” he muses, still peering at the grandeur of the lonely estate. He turns to you, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Wanna make a bad decision with me?” 

The next hour is spent in the modest company of Yuuji, a couple of baseball bats, and the empty halls of a long dead house. There’s no one to witness the two of you shattering each dusty antique vase save for the portraits on the wall. Soon, their frames, too, receive a violent visit from a vindictive bat, usually accompanied by Yuuji’s unadulterated glee and a resounding whoop. 

You’re not a fan of destruction. Especially not the destruction of rare, precious items reminiscent of a life bygone. Yet, it’s exhilarating to indulge in it, to swing your bat with a meaningless vengeance and watch as whatever priceless heirloom that evoked your baseless wrath fractures into pieces. You demolish a set of fine china found in the dining room cabinet and Yuuji gathers you into his arms, kissing you fiercely (it tastes like some sort of perverse, seductive joy, rosewater mixed with ashes). He chuckles into your mouth when you push your tongue into his, retribution for your first kiss many weeks ago. It’s deliciously gratifying. 

If Yuuji is right, and love is just a mosaic of bad decisions and desire-- maybe you’re okay with that. Maybe this is all I really need, you think, watching Yuuji from the corner of your eye on the drive home. Yellow street lights cast irregular shadows on his angular features, lending him an otherworldly sort of beauty. 

“What is it?” he asks, without taking his eyes off the road. One of his hands inches up your inner thigh, giving it a quick squeeze before retreating to the responsibility of the steering wheel. 

You hesitate, just for a second. An unseen force constricts around your throat; you banish it with a hard swallow. “I love you.” 

One second passes. Then two. 

He says nothing the rest of the ride home, and you sit in mortified silence, watching traffic blur by with glassy eyes. You must’ve misread this whole thing. You’re just a fling Yuuji plans on discarding whenever he grows tired… your mouth goes dry with regret. 

When you pull up in front of your house, he walks you to your front door. You can hardly stand to look him in the eye. 

“Well, thanks for today,” you say, examining your shoelaces with false interest. “I had a lot of--”

“I love you, too.” 

Startled, you look up. “I- what?” 

“I said,” he says, stepping close, putting a hand beneath your chin to tilt it upwards. Your body is eclipsed by his larger one, and you’re overwhelmed with the sudden urge to hide from his penetrating gaze. “I love you, too.” 

A beat of silence.

“Oh,” you breathe, and, suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you fervently— but this time, it’s chaste, it’s… loving (and it tastes like honeyed laughter). Only for a second though.

Then his hands are on your waist, fingers gripping hard enough to leave bruises; he’s aflame with a hotblooded passion-- your body is his Holy Grail and your mouth is its rim. He leads you into the hallway, fumbling to close the door behind him. You gasp when he pushes you up against the wall and harshly sucks at the sensitive skin beneath your jaw, your nails digging into his back through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. 

“I love you,” he mumbles, painting your neck with a line of ardent kisses, trailing from right below your ear to right above your collarbone. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

--

There’s something a little too tender in the way he caresses your face the next morning to wake you after he’s slipped his clothes back on, in the way he smiles softly at your bleary eyed confusion, in the way he holds you in his embrace a fraction of a second longer than you hold him in yours before saying goodbye. 

Terushima Yuuji may play the part of a reckless delinquent, but he’s not your average troublemaker. There’s something inscrutable behind his gaze, even as he sprays obscene graffiti on stop signs and shoplifts alcohol from the neighborhood drugstore, a walking cliche of hoodlum culture. 

There’s something a little too careful about the boy who claims to be careless. 

Yuuji is still fun, of course. He takes immense pride in being fun. He invites you to one of his friends’ gigs, some sort of grunge-esque affair with a heavily pulsating bass line and a preponderance of cheap liquor in red plastic cups. The drummer winks at you during one of the songs-- later Yuuji slugs him in the jaw, taking a few hits in the process, and makes a show of kissing you sloppily while the poor drummer nurses his rapidly forming bruise with a pack of frozen peas. (The kiss, of course, tastes like blood and pride.) 

He teaches you how to use a switchblade-- “Just in case,” he says, wrapping his hand around yours in an effort to show you the proper grip. In exactly what situation you’d be forced to use a switchblade remains unclear, but when you ask he just laughs and shrugs, spinning the knife in between his slender fingers. “You never know.”

(He tells you a story of a fist fight years ago and lifts his shirt to point out a pale, faded scar-- the other guy brought a knife concealed in his sleeve. You then agree it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.)

The two of you trespass on the regular, scaling fences and picking locks to dip your feet in private pools, to run barefoot on the soft grass of a golf course late at night, to explore taped off tunnels and underpasses. 

All of it is fun, all of it depicts your relationship as something accidental, something reckless, the convergence of two beings as coincidental as the convergence of the two cells that provoked the Big Bang. 

But your intimate moments, the faintest imprints in between the lines, tell a different story. One onlookers don’t see. 

They don’t see how Yuuji places a hand on the small of your back to guide you over a crosswalk, or how he pours a coffee and carefully blows on it before bringing it to you. They don’t see how he laughs when you laugh and smiles when you smile. 

They don’t hear what he whispers to you under the sheets-- sweet nothings that would make Cupid himself blush-- as he touches you slowly, purposefully, following your curves deliberately as a sculptor molding clay. 

They don’t feel his kisses, delicately placed on your lips, your neck, your stomach and thighs. They don’t feel his eyelashes fluttering on your cheek as he allows himself to rest with you in his most vulnerable state. 

It’s during these moments that deep secrets are so shyly exchanged in the sleepy haze of late nights and early mornings. He bares his soul to you in all its imperfection (you suspect you are the only one to have ever seen it in this state). He shatters himself bit by bit like the vases you splintered so long ago, offering you the fragments so you can gradually piece together the entire portrait. 

“You know how I told you my dad taught me how to fight?” he asks one of these times. Your head is in his lap as he strokes your hair ever-so-lightly. You nod, looking up into those sweet brown eyes-- they look sad today. “That’s only half true. He didn’t teach me, but I had to learn because of him.” 

You take his hand and brush your lips over his knuckles, humming softly, and he takes this small act of comfort and stores it away like he always does. 

I’m sorry. 

“I’m scared of trying to be someone different than I am now, but I want to be. I wish I could be.”

You can. 

“I’m sorry for getting you into so much trouble these days.”

Don’t be.

“I think we should run away, just you and me. We could make it, you know.”

I know. 

Of course, all good things come to an end. You know that. 

You just aren’t anticipating something so good to end so soon-- as suddenly as Terushima Yuuji becomes yours, he disappears. 

One morning, he’s sleeping in the bed next to you, and the next he’s gone without a trace. Literally. He leaves behind no extra t-shirts, no stray sock or phone charger, no note. You pad down the hall, ducking your head into each room.

“Yuuji?” you call. “Is this some sort of joke?”

It’s not. 

You call his phone and reach his voicemail. Hey, this is Terushima. Not available right now, probably busy doing somethin’ stupid or taking a piss. Leave a message if you want. 

The sound of his voice grows more and more painful to hear over the next six months. At first, you call every day, then every week, then every month. At month six, you’ve stopped calling at all. If he wanted to answer, he would. You don’t even know why you’ve kept it up so long when he obviously left for a reason. 

So, you pick up the pieces of your broken heart and cobble them together again. It’s not a graceful recovery, but it’s a recovery, and that’s what matters. The gaping hole he left is gradually filled by your family, your friends-- you don’t go on a single date, but that’s okay. (You’re just not ready. You tell yourself that you will be, someday.)  

Soon, you’re whole again. As you discover, there are ways to find yourself other than falling dangerously in love with a dangerous boy. 

You run into him one day, eight or so months after his disappearance. You’re filling your car at a gas station, and at the park across the street, he’s sitting next to a girl you don’t recognize. She laughs at all his jokes and sips a can of Monster he offers her. As if he can feel your stare, Yuuji glances over and catches your eye. He jogs across the street, dodging traffic, and you two exchange tentative pleasantries before the conversation comes to an uneasy rest on the taboo-- why he left.

It wasn’t because of you, it turns out. At least, not really. You were just the catalyst.

“I was the problem,” Yuuji says, laughing, though the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “You remember how I once told you I thought love was making your bad decisions with someone by your side?”

You nod, and the wound has scabbed over enough for you to remember it lightly, with a slight curve of the lips.

“You showed me that wasn’t true.” He tugs on the collar of his t-shirt absentmindedly, not quite meeting your gaze. “I started wanting to make good decisions instead. And that just wasn’t me. Love isn’t for me.”

“It could’ve been,” you say simply. He stares at you, momentarily unable to form a response. Then he laughs it off, a sound you used to adore that now sounds harsh and grating. 

“Maybe someday,” he says, but his expression tells you otherwise. It tells you how scared he is of ever being that person.

The thing about love is that it gives you something to lose. It gives you a reason to make good decisions. It gives you something to fear for. 

As he turns to leave, Yuuji freezes in his tracks. He throws a look over his shoulder. “Just for the record-- it hurt. Leaving. I did love you.” 

You smile. It’s a genuine smile, but it’s sad, too. “I know.” 

And the thing about fear is that some people can’t bear it well enough to let themselves love someone. 

You watch his retreating back for a brief moment before climbing into your car. It’s not until you’re halfway home that you realize you’re crying. Tears roll down your cheeks into your lap, staining your jeans. 

You hope he comes to love that new girl, the one he’s sharing a Monster with. You hope she loves him back with all her heart. You hope she spends hours and hours picking through his pieces and reassembling him from the bottom up. You hope she comes to find that his kisses taste like tobacco and novelty, like ink and enigma, like rosewater and ashes and joy. You hope that, to her, those kisses never taste like regret. 

You hope that this time, he’s scared. But not so scared he can’t let himself stay.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #hq terushima #terushima #terushima yuuji #terushima x reader #terushima yuuji x reader

[wherethingscomebackx]

Top 25 Larry Fics of 2020

h 2020 was HELLISH. So thank you to all the writers, and I mean ALL of them, who kept us occupied as the world continues to burn.

You may be familiar with these lists:

Top 25 Larry fics of 2016

Top 25 Larry fics of 2017

Top 25 Larry fics of 2018

Top 25 Larry fics of 2019

We’re going on our 5th year!!  As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2020 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out!

25.) a trail of honey through it all by @yvesaintlourent (27k)

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.

24.) even the best laid plans by @falsegoodnight (25k)

“Anyways,” Louis stresses, narrowing his eyes, “just let me say it and then rate how terrible of an idea it is on a scale from one to ten.”

“Alright,” Zayn agrees, sitting up expectantly.

“I want to ask Harry Styles to take my virginity,” Louis blurts, holding his hands out for emphasis.

The way Zayn’s eyes bulge is almost comical. “Negative infinity,” he says, voice choked. “Negative infinity times negative infinity.”

“Technically, a negative times a negative is -”

“Really negative infinity,” Zayn corrects himself, shaking his head wildly. “Louis, what the fuck?”

-

Or, Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

23.) A Distant Hazy Light by @greenfeelings (76k)

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

22.) Ghost Note Symphony by whoknows (96k)

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.

It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.

That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

21.) Until by @allwaswell16 (38k)

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

20.) Strangers in Love by sweetums (42k)

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

-

Prompt 51: An amnesia fic where louis and harry were enemies to lovers but after an accident, louis only remembers those memories that him and harry hated each other. now harry has to fix it. I think something like this less dark and less angsty compared to other amnesia fics and it could be funny

19.) A Long Way From The Playground by Pink_Sunsets (170k)

One Direction is broken up. They broke up five years ago. That should be the end of the story, right?

Harry is finished with One Direction. He now has a new life, one with two kids and a successful solo career. And he’s happy.

But a call one night from management flips Harry’s whole new life upside down, and he’s forced to face the life he had left behind.

As well as a certain blue eyed man who had left him behind.

18.) my love’s not simple (it’s fragile) by @falsegoodnight (27k)

“Can I take you out tomorrow?” he asks. “My shift ends at 7 but we can go for dinner at 8.”

Louis is silent for a few seconds and then, “Like… on a date?”

Harry swallows thickly. He hasn’t done this in years, hasn’t ever wanted to. “Yeah.”

He’s worried he’s misread things but then Louis raises his head to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Yeah,” he says easily. “Sure.”

Tension leaves his body swiftly. “Are you sure?” asks Harry. “I know we’re both so busy but I can’t not try with you, Lou.”

“Neither can I,” says Louis. “I think we can figure it out. I care about you a lot Harry. We’ve known each other for a week, but I already like you so much.”

-

Or Harry's new job is threatened by his impending rut. Desperate for a solution, he allows Niall to introduce him to Louis, an omega whose heat begins the same day. They click.

17.) Cocaine for Breakfast by @harryeatsburger (309k)

“It’s an easy job.” He continues, as if Louis wants to listen. “Like I said, a few trips. Parties, students, nothing dramatic.”

Louis gazes over to Harry. He’s looking thoughtful now, eyes on the green like he’s talking more to himself than Louis.

“Clubbing, drinks. Whatever, the business is just a side thing.”

That’s not how Louis remembers it to be, “You lying?” He honestly can’t tell.

Harry shakes his head slowly, meeting Louis' eyes.

“No,” He answers almost toneless. Harry clears his throat, “I won’t put you in any dangerous situation.” His voice is sincere, Louis can tell he means it, his jade green eyes glinting with truth.

or, - Louis Tomlinson is a drug addict, sent away from his beloved party-scene to recover. There, he discovers that small towns have just as much access to drugs as London did, plus something even better that he just can't get enough of. That something is a boy with green eyes and bouncy curls named Harry Styles. -

16.) Tastes like Strawberries by @sadaveniren (4k)

I’m stressed. I’m nesting and demand cuddles. Come over

Harry frowned and double checked who the text was from. Yup, it still said Louis - Grad, which meant it was from Louis from his grad school.

aka Louis texts Harry by mistake. It works out

15.) the way the storm blows by @rbbsbb (21k)

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

14.) bruise you like a peach by @falsegoodnight (40k)

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

13.) Watching The World Fall by whoknows (11k)

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

12.) Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 (38k)

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

11.) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes by @purpledandeli0n (85k)

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

•

Pirate AU

10.) Canyon Moon by @eeveelou (40k)

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.

An A/B/O Lion King AU

9.) We Both Got Nothing to Hide by lovelarry10 (43k)

“Talk to me, Lou.”

“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, knowing he genuinely couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit to what he was doing. “Don’t ask me to say it, because I can’t.”

“Then… I’ll try and guess. You’ve… got some stuff of Harry’s. Something of his to make it smell like him?”

Louis just nodded, eyes fixated on the floor. This was humiliating, but he knew Zayn wouldn’t stop until he found out what was going on.

“Okay. Like… a blanket, or a comforter or something?”

“Kind of…”

//

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

8.) sleeping on our problems by @falsegoodnight (67k)

I’m in love with you, Louis thinks. He feels empty, weighed down by his sadness and the loss of Harry inside him just moments ago before his knot finally went down.

There’s moments where he’s sure Harry feels the same. Like now, when he’s gazing down at Louis with so much adoration and tenderness. It’s like they’re both on the cusp of something more, but neither of them ever say a word.

His confession is on the tip of his tongue ready to slide out like honey, and yet he remains silent. They both do, looking at each other and recognizing the reluctance mirrored in each other’s eyes. It’s then that Louis realizes they’re both scared.

-

Or Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

7.) like it’s a game by @soldouthaz (32k)

there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

and louis.

6.) before we knew by @falsegoodnight (39k)

“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.

It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.

He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.

He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.

-

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

5.) Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo (114k)

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

4.) You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by @harryrainbows (95k)

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

3.) The Space Between by @lads-laddylads (39k)

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

2.) Nothing But You On My Mind by @absoloutenonsense (83k)

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

1.) Collision by @tequiladimples (224k)

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

#larry #larry stylinson #larry fic rec #harry styles #louis tomlinson #fic rec #one direction #1d #one direction fic rec #larry fan fiction #updated because I'm an idiot and added a zarry fic

[autumnsartblog]

Headcanons I have on Henry (Totally not most of this my own words copy and pasted from discord):

-Henry is probably cupiosexual/asexual (He isn’t one to feel much attraction sexually but he wouldn’t mind the sus stuff 😃). I imagine if you ask his pronouns it’d be He/Him, and he’s Male and either Straight or pansexual.

-Henry will call everyone he thinks of as a creature an it.

-Xenogenders and Neopronouns? He can’t grasp the concept.

-When Henry was delivering papers, he’d always do the houses with people he hated at a certain time, so they are outside, and then he would have thrown the newspaper at their heads as fast as he could and ride away, even faster.

-Henry had one friend. Which he never managed to see later on after the war, her name was Marigold lets say? Maybe?

-If Henry ever went to school/highschool, he would have been the kid that acts good, but does things behind everyones backs and if he acted like that all the time he’d be deemed a ‘troublesome kid’. These things he would have done would involve finding out people’s secrets + spreading rumours anomalously.

-Henry would have spent some time of his day, writing down things he loved about his father (Which most of the time would only end up being one thing one word) and then would burn it. He’d even draw a picture of him and do the same to the picture.

-In my eyes, Henry is very disinterested in the sexual side of relationships (I know it’s DSaF we are talking about but as far as I’ve played, Henry has not once acted sexual in game as far as I know), but more interested in the romantic side.

-Henry dislikes kids, but loves his own kid. If David kept on living he would have been a good father. But when I think about it, if David was going to continue his legacy, David would know how to kill people 😢

-He is part British and there is no way nobody is convincing me he is not. Also, I misread ‘Portsmouth Virginia’ as Portsmouth in England.

-Henry doesn’t cry in front of others, ever. He thinks of it as girly. When he does in private, then he’ll sometimes somewhat trigger himself by like, maybe smashing empty alcohol bottles. So he can cry because he barely lets it out. Sometimes he may accidentally cut himself (not meaning to cut himself) and he will just continue till he’s done and clean up.

-Henry won’t accept the fact he’d need therapy. He thinks nothing is wrong with him.

-Henry will normally think of his idea, and then write down a thesis(?) or theroy and if its a physical creation, then he’ll make designs for it and think back on older projects. He’ll also think back on older physicists and scientists like Albert Einstein, Heisnburg (No idea who that is) etc. Takes inspiration and grows his idea.

-Miller takes lots of pride and happiness into his projects, so telling him its bad or not giving constructed criticism is a way to literally piss him off and ruin his day. So don’t do that. He’ll take it to HIGH offence.

-If your copying him on things, like simple actions or way to do things, he’ll be annoyed, but if he’s manipulating you he might deal with it.

-He dislikes it when people use his full name while shouting at him.

-Henry likes seafood

-Henry, prefers to start off with tidy working conditions, but while going through, it may get messy. And once Miller notices that he’ll tidy it up and then continue. In the end, any mess, he’ll clean up. If the library he is studying at is messy, Henry will go ballistic to tidy everything up. He’ll be very sad since he likes library’s but also very pissed off. And ideal condition, prefers it to be more like a tidy semi-messy thing. More tidy though.

#dsaf #dayshift at freddy's #henry dsaf #dr.henry miller #dsaf dr.henry miller #dsaf henry #headcanon #★ dsaf﹒headcanons﹗

[jaskiersvalley]

@chubbykatsudon allowed me to ramble on a little about reverse A/B/O when Omegas are the ones who rules society while Alphas are locked away because they're too dangerous, too violent to hold a responsible role in life. Thank you for making me feel so welcome in your inbox at all times. <3

As the first Omega child of Lettenhove's ruling family, there were expectations on Jaskier. He would wed another Omega of equal rank and, together, they would find an Alpha that was already broken in and as tame as their money could buy. Lettenhove came with some reinforced rooms fot to hold an Alpha. Allegedly Jaskier's sire had been one of the more gentle Alphas, content to sate heats and never asking for more than given.

Naturally, Jaskier had to defy all expectations and he hit the road like some common Beta. Even worse, he found himself not just an Alpha, but a whole pack of them. To make matters even more humiliating, they were Witchers. Sterile, useless Alphas who were not good for anything other than throwing at brutish monsters that terrorised the good folks of the Continent. Despite predictions, gossip and even ill-wishers, Jaskier had never been happier. He gladly gave his status and name to any Alpha Witcher who needed it. Even offered his collar to make their travels easier as he couldn't be beside them all at the same time. Though Jaskier never wanted to play favourites, he most often travelled with his first Alpha, Geralt. He was always so gentle when Jaskier's heat came, reverent at being allowed to help when he'd been raised to believe that no Omega would even look at him with anything but disdain.

There was a contract near a village, the description was rather hit and miss, leaving Geralt unable to determine just what kind of creature they were dealing with. All they knew what that it stole livestock, broke into houses and scared a Beta maid almost lifeless. She had sworn up and down that, whatever it was, it was large, black, stinking worse than anything she'd encountered before and shrieked at being seen before fleeing. It left Geralt stumped but he dutifully set out to track the creature. Thrilled at the prospect of a new creature giving inspiration for new ballads, Jaskier tagged along.

"Could it be a demon? Or an imp?" He asked, trailing after Geralt with a skip in his step. "Or maybe a cursed creature? Just imagine! You could break the curse and it would make for such a romantic ditty!"

"Hush!" Geralt growled and Jaskier giggled. He'd never found the growls of his Alphas to be intimidating and time did nothing to change his view. However, he did fall silent, scenting the air and finding it acrid with something he'd never really smelled before.

They emerged in a clearing, one that quite obviously was home to something. There was a paltry shelter covered with a stolen sheet, a firepit and the remains of a goat. Jaskier couldn't help but be grateful that it wasn't Eskel with him on this particular contract.

"Hello?" Geralt called out, peering towards the shelter. What Jaskier didn't know what that he could hear the rapid heartbeat of someone in there, combined with the sour smell of fear. "We just want to talk."

It was quite obvious whoever had made a home there was the one responsible for the village's woes. Jaskier nodded towards the tent in question and Geralt nodded. Even mouthed "Alpha" at Jaskier, quite certain that whatever it was, it was or at least once had been, human.

"Can we help you?" Jaskier asked softly, moving towards the tent. He crouched down to peer in and, with no warning, a figure burst out, sending Jaskier sprawling before trying to dash past. Unfortunately Geralt was in the way and the man bounced off him, landing in an ungraceful heap on the ground.

Winded, Jaskier sat up and watched as the man cowered before Geralt. When he stood up it got so much worse and, three steps closer, Geralt actually stepped between Jaskier and the man, warning him off.

"You poor thing," Jaskier sighed. "We mean no harm."

Such words fell on deaf ears and each time Jaskier tried to approach, trying to calm the Alpha with his scent, it had to opposite effect. At least with Geralt the man was submissive, allowing himself to be pulled upright and scented even if he trembled so bad, Jaskier was scared he'd fall down.

"Nilfgaard," Gerlat declared. His eyes landed on the Alpha's neck and a growl built in his chest. A violent bonding bite had left the skin heavily scarred and where the collar had sat was rubbed raw. "Force bonded. Where's your Omega?"

It was unheard of for a bonded Alpha to be far from their Omega. Usually, if they were allowed out, it was on a leash in Nilfgaard.

"Dead."

Which explained a lot yet nothing at all. If an Alpha's bonded died, they usually died too. Or were put down because the loss of their bonded drove them beyond saving. Maybe Nilfgaard didn't want to get their hands dirty and deal with yet another body. Their bloody and violent war had left many behind already. It was much easier to cut an Alpha loose and let others deal with the consequences of a grief maddened Alpha in their midst.

"You're far from Nilfgaard."

"Even further from Vicovaro." At least the Alpha could speak beyond single words. "I don't want to go back."

Sensing it was an opportunity, Jaskier smiled and stepped closer, saying, "Then you don't have to. It's as easy as that."

All his good intentions were misread and the Alpha hunched his shoulders, head dipped as if expecting a strike to come. He didn't relax, muscles tight with terror.

"Jaskier, give him some space." Geralt easily slipped between them again, unable to figure out just why the Alpha was so petrified of an Omega. Then again, looking at his neck, Geralt didn't have to imagine. "You've been causing the villagers a lot of problems, you know that, right?"

A mute, shamed nod was his answer.

"I've been hired to take care of the problem." Submission had many forms and Geralt had seen them all over the course of his long life. He never wished for anyone to be so scared of him that they pissed themselves but there he was. The Alpha before him looked ready to fall down and bare his throat and belly, any kind of domination had been probably beaten out of him. It made Geralt's job that little bit harder. "I don't kill without sense. Will you let us help you?"

Jaskier couldn't hold back anymore, he walked closer. "Please, Alpha. Let us offer you what we can."

The Alpha went crashing to his knees as Jaskier got closer, head back and throat bared even if the whites of his eyes were showing in fear and breaths came in short, harsh puffs. Immediately Jaskier backed away, hands up. "We won't hurt you. I won't touch you without your permission."

His words didn't seem to make a difference and Geralt made shooing motions at Jaskier. "Go back to Roach. We'll follow shortly."

Pouting only a little, Jaskier turned, trusting Geralt to know what was best. The only kinds of Alphas Jaskier had encountered were ones that were touch starved and desperate for any scrap of attention and kindness. An Alpha who shied from an Omega's presence was a new challenge and one that Jaskier wanted to very badly to take on. His pack couldn't bond, healed too quick for any such bite to take. It would be no hardship to take an Alpha who had alrady been claimed and cast aside. Bonding, while a romanticised dream, wasn't the be all and end all of pack relationships.

Soon enough Geralt approached with the other Alpha a few steps behind him, nervously clutching at a bag.

"Omega, may I present Cahir for your polite inspection?" He turned to Cahir. "Cahir, I present my Omega, Jaskier. He won't approach without your say so."

Message received, Jaskier waved from where he stood and tried to send a reassuring smile. "Welcome, Cahir. My Alpha brings me the most delighful companions to meet. Share our travels and camp for as long as you find comfort in it." The paltry amount of belongings in the bag couldn't have been much more than a change of clothes, probably stolen from the washing lines. "What's ours is yours."

"Thank you, Omega."

The honorific was nothing more than a trembling whisper and Jaskier nodded. "Just Jaskier. We don't abide by the demands of society."

Clearing his throat, Geralt drew attention back to himself. "I was thinking to head to Kaer Morhen a little earlier this year. If the Pack so wills it, Cahir will join us for the season as a visitor."

Mind already racing ahead, Jaskier nodded. He could see Cahir benefitting from Eskel's gentle approach. And perhaps even Lambert's brutal honesty might help bring Cahir out of his shell a little. Grinning, he agreed readily. "A fine idea. It would be nice to welcome the rest of the Pack home this time. I like the idea of greeting them with the same affection and readiness they usually have for us."

There was no doubt about it, winter was going to be an interesting one.

#geraskier #witchersexual jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #reverse a/b/o #omega jaskier #alpha geralt #alpha cahir #tldr: alphas are hated by society

[kovjiro]

Out of My League - an Aran Ojiro x chubby female reader SMAU - College!AU

Synopsis: Commitment can be scary, especially when the only taste of actual commitment has come through your three best friends. An absentee father and cruel classmates can do that to you - no foundational trust in men, only sustained by male counterparts continually making fun of you for your size and weight. You’re ready for change, though, and maybe change will come; as you set out for university in a new city miles away from your horrid adolescence, change is inevitable. A chance at growth, at love, and new adventures await you in this new part of your life but, really, you’d never think to find this all with the upperclassmen you’d deemed out of your league.

Warnings(for this chapter): written chapter, self-deprecating thoughts, underage alcohol consumption, explicit depictions of being drunk, very much angst, reader is big sad (Refer to masterlist for complete list of warnings for this SMAU

Masterlist | Prev. | Chapter Four: friend | Next

“It’s Kiyoko and Yachi, right?” you call out over the heavy base and electronic beats blasting throughout the room.

Earlier that evening you made your way to Aran’s dorm, along with Suna, Osamu, and Atsumu. Upon arriving Aran announced to all of you that a few friends would be coming along, two members of his frat and their first-year friend. Aran had seen the worry on your face, however, and didn’t hesitate to come up to you and reassure you of your worries. “They’ll love you, hun, I promise.”

His words eased your nerves a bit but meeting new people isn’t always a fun experience - there is no telling when someone will judge you because of what they see. They had been nice enough at first meet so now, here at the party a couple of shots in and one drink down, you have the confidence to let loose.

“That’s us,” the tall one with black hair says, who you deduce is Kiyoko. She’s insanely attractive in a mature and sophisticated sense, her aura demanding respect yet offering a sense of comfort as well. Beside her stands a small blonde girl, who you’ve been informed is the first-year friend and her underclassmen from high school. Yachi’s demeanor is completely different from that of Kiyoko, looking almost out of place with her uncapped drink in her hand. Regardless, there is no ignoring how breathtaking they both are in their own right.

“Y/n, yeah?” Kiyoko counters before taking a sip of her drink. “Aran has told me a lot about you.”

“Really?” Don’t get your hopes up, for the love of all things sacred and holy, don’t break your own heart. “All good things I hope.” Kiyoko fervently nods as if to relieve you of any fear, saying, “Aran always speaks highly of his friends back home.”

Oh yeah, friend. It’s not like every time he’s come to your aid, every time he’s offered words of praise or encouragement, every time he’s held you close to his chest with your heart beats seemingly syncing together ever meant anything more to him - you’re just his friend, just like the many other friends he apparently talks so highly of. You’ve known this for years so why does it hurt so much?

Just as you’re about to respond, someone comes bounding up to the three of you. “They’re doing jaegerbombs over at the bar, you girls coming?” Speak of the devil… “C’mon, y/n, i know you can down those like a champ,” Aran pushes, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you to his side.

Maybe it’s the atmosphere of the cramped party filled to the brim with sweaty bodies bouncing and yelling, maybe it's the alcohol beginning to get to your head, or maybe it’s both and then some, but Aran’s presence is overwhelming and not in the good way. Where you’d usually feel over the moon to be near him you now find yourself feeling… annoyed? Upset? Absolutely devastated? In reality, though, you brought this on yourself because who could ever like you, the fat friend? Definitely not someone like Aran.

“Yup, that’s right, friend,” you say, mustering as convincing a laugh as you can. Not convincing enough because Aran cautiously chuckles all while squinting questioningly at you. “Yeah… friend.”

An awkward beat passes amongst the four of you but Kiyoko is quick to act, grasping your hand in one of hers and grabbing Yachi with the other. “Let’s get this party rolling, shall we?” she exclaims as she pulls you both to the make-shift bar the frat boys put together. As soon as she’s pulled you out of hearing range, Kiyoko leans closer to ask, “You good?” Her eyes convey just how much she’s gathered - you’re hurting.

What a horrible situation to be in - finding out your long-term crush only thinks of you as a friend in the midst of a night out. How will you get over this hurt, this heartbreak? Probably never. There is no cure for a broken heart.

But wait. There is. And you’re walking towards it right now.

“I will be,” you conclude.

In no time you’re standing in between Kiyoko and Yachi at the bar and what happens after is too much of a blur to make out. The first shot the three of you take together, the mixture of liquor and redbull hitting you in an instant. Your mind is running a mile a minute but it seems to be working - you’re numb. And so you have another, whatever it takes to forget why you were so upset a few moments ago. Two quickly becomes three, the same way three eventually becomes four then five then six.

In the haze that comes with being drunk you live the next moments oblivious to your surroundings. You miss when the twins and Suna join you guys right after Aran, you miss when Aran’s frat brother Sugawara appears and takes a shot with all of you, you miss - or perhaps ignore - when Osamu tells you to chill on the drinking. “You trying to die or something?” is what he says verbatim but his words don’t register in your imbibed brain.

What you don’t miss is Aran talking to a girl at the end of the bar and suddenly everything hits you tenfold - the hurt, the ache, the alcohol. Maybe if you weren’t so inebriated you would have noticed that he was only trying to help her out - apparently you aren’t the only person drunk off their ass at this party, who would have thought? All your mind can comprehend is that Aran is talking to someone other than you, a harsh reminder that you are - and probably always will be - the ‘friend.’

He comes to you then, speaking words you understand yet cannot comprehend, head spinning and vision blurring - maybe you should have listened to Osamu. He leaves you there at the bar and it crushes your heart all over again - didn’t he promise to be there for you? The alcohol has complete control of your body as you take a step in his direction but it’s as if the ground has moved out from underneath you. Two people are quick to your sides though and manage to keep you from hitting the ground. Who is that?

“Samu? Suna?” you manage to gurgle out, tongue feeling heavy and lips completely senseless. “No, honey, it’s Kiyoko and Suga. I think you’ve had enough for tonight, think it’s time to head home. Can you tell me where your dorm is?”

You know what she’s saying but your thoughts are jumbled, your dorm be damned. Where’s Aran? “I-I need to go- go see him,” you blurt out as you attempt to get out of their hold. You lose your balance as you take a step forward but they’re there to keep you from collapsing. They begin to drag you along to who-knows-where and you have no choice but to let yourself be carried, mumbling about how you need to see him and it hurts. It has to be the alcohol that’s making you spew nonsense, more so when you start crying because how could he only think of you as a friend, just a friend? Had it all meant nothing to him? Maybe you just misread everything, but you had been sure there was something there.

Or you’re the one in the wrong this time around, obviously, to even begin thinking Aran would be different. Every person you meet is unable to get past what’s on the exterior so why would this be any different? The idea of Aran reciprocating such feelings is an act of projection, simply put.

Your mind is a dark and negative spiral of harmful thoughts, reminding you of all that you’re not and why that is just not enough for Aran - for anyone, even. Yachi attempts to console you as Kiyoko and Suga place you on your bed? No, definitely not your bed. You may be wasted out of your mind but you’re cognizant to your surroundings that are in no way familiar at the moment. The three of them are able to reduce you from loud cries to soft whimpers in some time and eventually you’re all off to bed but you know deep inside of you everything will be different come tomorrow. How long would you continue being alright with being just a friend?

Credits:

raise your hand if you, too, have drunk your feelings and ended up crying

you've always held on to the hope that aran liked you too

he had always treated you differently than other guys

kiyoko, suga, and yachi>>>

taglist: OPEN! send an ask to be added :) AGE IN BIO PLZ

@szeonn @thatnikkixx @slutkags @roselleviennesstuff @bookiedoll @kris-1 @lucacangettathisass @serostapesweat @kiyokoism @ctrlaprilx @fantasycantasy

a/n: LONG overdue but here it is! i'm finally all moved in and got my wifi setup so ta-da :) i should go back to updating daily like i had been. i'm excited, it's about to get good >:) let me know your thoughts so far!!

#haikyuu x reader #aran x reader #haikyuu smau #hq smau #aran smau #haikyuu!! #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #inarizaki #inarizaki x reader #aran x you #inarizaki x y/n #inarizaki x you #inarizaki scenarios #aran fluff #kita shinsuke #haikyuu kiyoko #kiyoko #sugawara koushi #OML smau #oikawa tooru #hq iwaizumi #miya atsumu #miya osumu #suna rinatro #aran ojiro