#because all he wants is for them to live. even if they hate him

[rafescurtainbangz]

Frat Rafe Headcanons +18 Minor DNI

Ask: @babygorewhore Baby I need more frat rafe headcannons please feed me mommy

Sorry this took me so long, babe. Thank you so much for your ask Also, if you haven't, please read @xxbimbobunnyxx frat carwash blurb you should because it’s so cute. Those carwash videos make me blush for reallll. And I swear I'll be dropping some pervfrat!rafe part 2 soonish

Also I dropped fic yesterday and didn't tag people 😭 here

unedited

Pet names, unprotected p in v, mentions of oral sex, public sex, choking, jealousy, ownership kink, perv Rafe, recording sex, possessive, mentions of fighting, degradation

Meeting Him…

Frat Rafe - Who first noticed you from across the lecture hall. Luckily for him, you were sitting next to a pledge who quickly switched seats the second Rafe gave him a hard look. He didn't say a whole lot at first, chuckling to himself as he watched a little blush creep across the apples of your cheeks when he spread his thighs slightly brushing his knee against yours.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't take his eyes off of you through the soapy glass at the Fraternity Car Wash. You shamelessly recorded the show, giggling and smiling as he and his brothers washed cars between slow grinds and finger-drawn hearts. A very wet Rafe Cameron somehow made it through the car window, his tall frame barely fitting inside the cab as he continued to work for your cash. He danced to the music blaring through the speakers, smiling cheekily as you tucked a few extra dollars in his short red trunks.

Frat Rafe - Who waved you down before you could pull out of the lot, jogging up to your freshly cleaned car, asking you to come out to the bar that night.

Frat Rafe - Who sent three back-to-back text messages before you could pull away, the third making your mouth fall open. You looked through the window, watching Rafe chuckle and smirk, pretty proud of himself at the reaction that he got from you and the smile you couldn't take off your lips.

Frat Rafe - Who you fucked after the first date. You couldn't stop thinking about him after the carwash, his tanned, toned skin glistening in the sun. It was unclear just how many times you watched that fucking video, but it was a lot. You couldn't wait to get your hands on him. Rafe Cameron lived up to every one of the rumors. The sex was amazing, the best you ever had, rough and slow, fast when you needed it. His long thick cock filled you deliciously. It seemed like he was always one step ahead of you; like he knew what you wanted before you even asked. His beautiful blue eyes were always on you, hazed with sex. His soft lips and tongue pleased you again and again ‘til you were a babbling mess.

Dating Frat!Rafe…

Frat Rafe - Who’s affectionate and gentle with you. Only you get to see that side of him, Rafe, reserving all his sweetness for you.

Frat Rafe - Who loves to wrap his strong arm around your neck in doggy, tugging you as close as possible, ‘til you're begging him to let you cum.

Frat Rafe - Who went absolutely crazy the first time you called him daddy. The petname quickly became his favorite.

Frat Rafe - Who loves to brag about you to his frat brothers, especially when he's drunk. The blonde, quick to remind them how much better you are than the girls they are hitting on to the point where it's downright rude. You’ll scold his tipsy ass, and he’ll sass you as he continues to dog his friend until you have no choice but to smash your lips against his and steal the words off his lips.

Frat Rafe - Who sent you this message just a few days after you started talking:

Little did you know how much it was on his mind. He hated that you weren't official. A much as Rafe wanted you to belong to him, he wanted to belong to you.

Frat Rafe - Who asked you out that night ‘cause he couldn't wait any longer.

Frat Rafe - Who loves sneaking away with you at parties. Sure, he loves showing you off, but his favorite thing to do is chill in his truck, listening to music while the two of you share a joint and talk.

Frat Rafe - Who would rather spend every night at your place than the frat house because he can actually relax. Some nights you go to sleep alone and wake up with Rafe’s strong body hugging you from behind after he let himself in with the key you had cut just for him. He couldn't sleep and needed you.

Frat Rafe - Who lives in weathered fraternity t-shirts and snapbacks if he's not rocking a crisp polo. At any function, Rafe’s hat usually ends up on your head, one way or another, left on from time to time when you suck him off or ride his cock.

Frat Rafe - Who doesn't trust any of his frat brothers around you but Top. If you’re coming over to hang out he's meeting you out at your car to walk you in. If you're at a party his hand is in yours, resting on your back, draped over your shoulder, or wrapped around your waist. He loves the contact just as much as he loves keeping you safe.

Frat Rafe - Who texts you cute/horny shit when he's drunk and you're away.

He often questions how he got so lucky or why are you dating me again? Rafe knows you love him, he just loves hearing it. His frat brothers also know when you're gone for the weekend because Rafe turns into an absolute dick, bitching about everything until you're back.

Frat Rafe - Who doesn't care if people can hear the two of you having sex in fact he loves it. Rafe coaches you through each orgasm, trying hard to get you screaming for him.

"C'mon, princess... Let these boys hear how good daddy’s givin’ it to you."

"Shh... Baby, I'd hate for all these guys to hear what a filthy fuckin’ slut you are f’me."

“Bet he didn't think I was fuckin’ you right. What do you think he thinkin’ now huh?”

He also loves watching you walk back into the party all flushed and wobbly knowing that he was the reason you were weak in the knees. Rafe loves to mark you with love bites, and hand prints, dark hickies on your cleavage that peek out of your low-cut dress, pairing beautifully with the sparkly little R pendant around your neck.

Frat Rafe - Who dedicates every Wednesday night for date night and will never let a frat meeting or function interfere.

Frat Rafe - Who’s a surprisingly good dancer. He’ll only dance at the bar if he's wasted, but when he does, your ass is pressed up against him with his strong hands clutching your hips. It doesn't take long until you’re dress is bunched up around your waist, panties pushed to the side, with Rafe’s pants in a puddle around his ankles as he fills you up in the dingy bar bathroom. On the other hand, if you’re at the frat house, it only takes a song or two until your bent over the bathroom sink or pressed up against the hallway wall.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't wait for Spring Break. Each drunken day was spent at the beach with his frat brothers and your friends - each night, a different bar. But Rafe made sure you still had some moments alone whether it be to take you shopping, share a beer, or watch the sunset.

Frat Rafe - Who got rid of his dirt bike and bought a motorcycle instead. Of course, making sure he bought a helmet for you so he could bring you to class or for a cruise around campus.

Frat Rafe - Who fell in love with you all over again when you made him a beer poster with yourself as the model. You had no idea how much he loved it until you showed up to the next frat party and saw it framed on the wall.

Frat Rafe - Who’s gotten in trouble with the law a few times for fighting. Rafe, no stranger to a fight on account of you when someone tries to start shit or gets handsy. He never ends up making it to jail, usually talking or paying his way out of it.

Frat Rafe - Who knows your class schedule like the back of his hand. Whenever he's at the library he’ll text you and ask if you need a study break which is code for stuffing you full of his cock in study room D.

Frat Rafe - Who jealously gets the better of him, and when he pisses you off, all it takes is a flirty smile and a wave at one of his frat brothers or a hockey player to set him off. The rest of the night consists of rough, possessive sex, and punishment which somehow turns into sweet, slow passionate sex where's he's mumbling I love you’s and I’m sorry’s between deep strokes and kisses.

Frat Rafe - Who loves it when you wear his clothes, especially his oversized frat t-shirts paired with your cute little panties.

Frat Rafe - Who sends you gym selfies because he knows how crazy they make you, especially post-workout shots.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't keep his hands or eyes off you at the frat formal. It was hard not to think about the future when you looked so pretty in your white sparkly dress.

Frat Rafe - Who’s fiercely loyal. You never need to worry about other girls around him, but the sight of it still makes you jealous. Rafe is quick to assure you you're all he wants and needs.

Frat Rafe - Who has a thing for your panties. The lacey and prettier the better; wrapped around the shift of his truck, looped over the hand of his bedroom door, the rung of his bedpost, anywhere and everywhere. He loves to wrap them around the base of his cock when you ride him or knot them around your wrists when he ties you to his headboard. But his eyes roll back in his skull when you stuff them in his mouth because he loves how you taste.

Frat!Rafe - Who loves recording the two of you having sex and frequently snaps pictures of you just ‘cause.

Frat!Rafe - Who won't just send you dick pics when you ask, but videos with the sounds on, usually moaning your name until he’s spilling onto his hand, using the pictures or videos the two of you took as porn.

Frat!Rafe - Who had to change his lock screen when you took him home for the holidays because it was a picture of you in his favorite lingerie.

Frat!Rafe - Who has pictures of you everywhere and he doesn't care who sees because don’t you wish you had a girl like mine.

Masterlist

Pictures and texts from Pinterest

Tags: @voyeurmunson @romaescapes @gri959 @redhead1180 @h34rtsformilli @joannamuns9n @waywardsoul113 @marahgubler @akashababy @dckweed @humanvampire13 @drewstarkeyslut @juniebugg @wearemadeofstardust0 @imbabycowboy @rafesgiirl @obxbabies @cutielando @rafedrewandjjs @rafesthroatbaby @999ares9996 @oxpogues4lifexo @dilfswife @Dilfswife @chiaraanatra @ietss @drewswifeeee @theoraekenslover @niyahnotnia

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafecore #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron headcanons #frat!rafe smut #frat rafe #frat rafe cameron #rafe cameron hc #rafe headcanons #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe blurb #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron blurb #boyfriend rafe cameron #soft rafe cameron

[btsqualityy]

BTS Dating Series #17: Pet Peeves

Members x Reader

Genre/Rate: 18+, fluff

Summary: Little things that just....annoy you or him about each other.

Warnings: None to note.

Kim Seokjin

You threw your body into a chair in the corner of your bedroom, folding your arms across your chest as Jin stared at you incredulously. The two of you had been in a somewhat heated disagreement and once you started to feel yourself becoming overwhelmed, you chose to just...stop talking in an effort to calm yourself.

"Are you really gonna not say anything else?" Jin wondered, huffing harshly when you only responded with further silence. "You know, that's another thing that you do that I hate."

"What?" You couldn't help but to ask.

"Any time we have an argument or even a hard conversation, you clam up and stop talking," he explained. "That makes it almost impossible to fix anything and it also makes me feel like some type of villain."

"Oh," you murmured, looking down at your feet. "I didn't realize that it made you feel that way. I just..."

"What?" Jin encouraged as he stepped over to you and bent down so that he was looking up at you.

"In past relationships, whenever I would get chastised or yelled at, I found that not saying anything helped to not escalate things," you admitted, finally looking up at your boyfriend. "I don't want things to escalate with you, Jin."

"Oh baby," he murmured, grabbing your hands and bringing them both up to his mouth, pressing soft kisses to them before he pulled them away to speak. "You never have to worry about that with me. Whenever we're disagreeing about something, it's never me against you. It's us against the problem, ok? It doesn't mean that I hate you or that I don't want to be with you because that would never be the case, ok?"

"Ok," you nodded. "I'm sorry for shutting down on you. I'll do my best to work on that."

"Ok," Jin agreed. "I love you."

"I love you too," you replied before leaning down and kissing him softly.

Min Yoongi

"Are you fucking serious right now?" Yoongi chuckled in disbelief and you barely spared him a glance from your spot on his living room couch. You and Yoongi had planned to spend the whole weekend together since it was one of his rare ones off. However, he got called into the studio at the last minute and had to go handle it before you two headed out on your planned date for the day.

Now, that wasn't a problem for you whatsoever because Yoongi said he'd text you when he was heading back home. One hour went by, then two hours and by the time the third hour rolled around, you were throughly pissed off. Once he did finally make it back to his apartment where he'd left you, you had become resolute in giving him the silent treatment.

"Do you know how childish you're acting right now?" Yoongi wondered. "I know that I told you it wouldn't take me long and I'm sorry that it did but you can't be this upset over that!"

"You cannot tell me what I can and cannot be upset over," you finally spoke up.

"Oh look, she speaks." You glared at him, throwing him the middle finger before you folded your arms across your chest. All Yoongi could do was groan loudly as he ran his hands over his face, becoming more irritated as time went on.

"Listen, I do not do well with the silent treatment and I hate it when you do this so if you want me to fix it, you're going to have to cooperate and talk to me or else I won't be able to," he shrugged. "Up to you." You sighed heavily then, knowing that you were being petty and that your boyfriend was right.

"I'm sorry," you murmured. "I just got upset when you took longer than you said you would. Made it feel like you forgot about me."

"I could never forget about you," he cooed, bending down so that he was squatting in front of you as he took your hands in his to hold. "I'm sorry that I didn't keep you in the loop. I'll make sure to be more mindful of that, ok?" You nodded with a smile, surging forward and throwing your arms around him in a hug.

Kim Namjoon

"If you would just listen to me, I'd be able to explain it to you!" You exclaimed angrily as you stared at Namjoon, who was standing on the other side of the island in your kitchen. The two of you had been cooking dinner together when you made what was intended to be a light hearted joke about his cooking skills. However, Namjoon didn't take it that way at all which led to a full blown argument.

"You can be so flippant when you say certain things to me, you know?" Namjoon pointed out.

"Me, flippant?" You scoffed, throwing your hands up in immediate surrender. "And on that note, I need some space." You turned around and began to walk out of the kitchen but you realized that you could hear footsteps behind you.

"And that's another thing," Namjoon snapped. "Anytime we get into an argument or fight, you insist on walking away."

"Because I need space!" You shouted as you turned around to look at him. "I literally just said that or were you not listening?"

"We're not gonna fix anything if you keep doing that."

"But we're also not going to fix anything if I can't take the space I need to calm down so that I'm not escalating the situation," you explained. "I know you wanna talk it out but just....give me a little while."

"Fine," Namjoon relented and he turned around and walked away before you even had the chance to say another word.

Jung Hoseok

"It was so good to see you!" Hobi smiled to Juhyun, who grinned widely as Hobi gave her a gentle hug.

"It was good to see you as well, Hobi," she replied before turning around and walking out of the store. Hobi walked back over to you then, where you had been pretending to browse the store's selection of shoes but you had really been eavesdropping on their conversation.

"See anything you might like?" Hobi asked you and you shrugged noncommittally, biting your lip before you decided to just take the risk and ask what was on your mind.

"Can I ask you something?" You wondered.

"Anything."

"Are you still friends with all of your exes?" You questioned and Hobi rose an eyebrow.

"Well, I don't know if friends is the word I'd really use to describe it," he began. "Even if we broke up, none of them were necessarily on bad terms or anything like that so it's not hard for me to speak to them whenever I might see them."

"Hmm," you murmured and Hobi couldn't help but to smile at you.

"Jealous?"

"Don't know if jealous is really the word I'd use," you replied, echoing his previous statement. "But it does make me feel weird that you're.....so friendly. I don't like it."

"So, should I keep it to a hi and bye?" He asked. "And no hugs?"

"That actually would be nice," you nodded.

"Done," Hobi grinned. "Now, come on. I wanted to check out another store while we're here." You smiled to yourself as Hobi grabbed your hand and led you out of the store.

Park Jimin

You were laid out in Jimin's bed, waiting for him to get home from rehearsal. You had had an extremely long day at work so needless to say, you were more than excited to see your boyfriend so that you could get all the cuddles that you could handle.

As you were browsing the internet on your laptop, you heard the front door open and close and not long after that, Jimin was pushing open the door to the bedroom.

"Hi Jimin-ssi," you greeted him happily, watching as he threw his bag down and instantly walked over to the closet.

"Hi baby," he muttered as he worked on changing out of his dance clothes and into more comfortable ones. As he did this, you closed the laptop and set it on the bedside table before you laid down on your side. Once Jimin was done changing, he walked over to the bed and laid down on his back, shutting his eyes and not saying a word.

"How was your day?" You spoke up and Jimin just shrugged, eyes still closed.

"Same old, same old."

"Did you guys finish learning the choreography to that new song you showed me?" You wondered and Jimin nodded. "Aw, I'm sure it's amazing. I can't wait to see it." Jimin still hadn't said a word and you sighed heavily. "Jimin, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he deadpanned. "I'm fine."

"Baby, you're obviously not fine," you replied gently. "I'm willing to listen if you want to talk."

"Well, I don't want to talk," he grunted. "Just leave me alone."

"You know, I was really looking forward to you getting here because I had a long day too and all I wanted was to cuddle with you but if you're going to be a jerk just because you're in a shitty mood, then I'll just go home," you snapped and just as you moved to rip the blanket off of your body, Jimin gently grabbed your arm.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "It was just a hard day and I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"And that's fair that you didn't feel like talking but don't clam up on me," you murmured as you turned around to face him. "I'm here to help, always."

"I know," he smiled gently. "Come here." He opened his arms and you moved closer to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you as he held your body tightly to his. "I love you."

"I love you too," you whispered, smiling to yourself when you felt him kiss your forehead.

Kim Taehyung

"Oh my gosh, you know what we should do tonight?" Taehyung asked you and you looked up at him from your spot next to him on his couch. The two of you had planned on just having a date night in but apparently, Taehyung had other ideas.

"What?"

"We should get dressed and go to that new jazz club that just opened last month," he suggested and you instantly grimaced. "What is it?"

"I don't know about that," you replied. "I was kind of looking forward to staying in."

"But we've been doing that for so many weekends now," he pointed out. "It might be fun to get out, have a little change of scenery."

"Hmm, I don't think so," you shook your head and your eyes widened when you heard Taehyung sigh heavily.

"Why don't you ever want to go out?" He demanded to know. "I could probably count on one hand how often we've been out together, just to do something fun."

"I'm a homebody," you shrugged. "I've always preferred to be home to than go out to some club or something like that."

"And I fully respect that but couldn't we do it sometimes?" He suggested. "Just occasionally?"

"You know what, yeah," you agreed. "I promise, I'll try to make sure that we do more of the things you enjoy too, ok?"

"Thank you," Taehyung grinned widely before leaning over and kissing you firmly.

Jeon Jungkook

"What the hell?" You muttered as you picked pieces of clothes up off of the living room floor. "Has a man been staying with me or a fucking animal?" In an effort to spend more time together, Jungkook had been spending more time at your apartment and he had definitely made himself comfortable in your space. Maybe even a little...too comfortable.

"Baby, I have lamb skewers!" Jungkook exclaimed as he stepped through the front door of your apartment, one bag in each hand as he shut the door with his foot. He stopped right in his tracks though when he saw you standing in the middle of the living room with an unamused look on your face. "What's wrong?"

"No, the problem is what's wrong with you?" You demanded to know. "Have you never seen a hamper? Do you not know what it looks like so that you can put your clothes in it?"

"No, those are my clean clothes," he told you.

"Why are they on the floor then?"

"Because I didn't want them to get mixed up with my dirty ones," he shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why not just put the dirty in the- you know what, no," you cut yourself off. "I'm not even gonna attempt to understand male logic. Just give me my skewers, please."

"Here you go," Jungkook smiled, waiting until you had dropped the clothes in your hands before he handed one of the bags off to you. "I love you."

"Yeah yeah, love you too, messy animal," you grumbled, making Jungkook laugh out loud.

..........................................................

Tag List: @addictedtohobi @brittneymccray @cursedcursives @arata18nanami @leftieaquarius @devilsbooksworld @starmyy @werewolfbanshee-love @li-moonchild-il @kpop-servant @cheysjimin

#bts #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts jin #bts yoongi #bts suga #bts namjoon #bts rm #bts jhope #bts hoseok #bts jimin #bts taehyung #bts v #bts jungkook #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x reader

[mitsvriii]

self-talks

・❥・aventurine x reader

★ wc: 730+ ★ no reader type or pronouns used or specified ★ cw: aventurine is his #1 hater, mentioned death/ways to die, set during 2.1 quest, written by a mentally-tired high schooler, lowercase intended, lazily proofread ★ no summary for this one, notes at the end ★ if you get what’s happening i’ll give you a cupcake

“[name] doesn’t really love you, y’know.”

that voice. the same, agonizing tone that held itself high as if the owner knew every secret in the world. how aventurine hated how it followed him like an ant and he was a basket filled to the brim with succulent insecurities - as if they themselves were ripe, appetizing pieces of fruit.   

the tinted shadow, or should he say figured, of himself wouldn’t stop drilling those words into his head. aventurine tried to prevent the words from bothering him but he couldn’t shake them. it was agonizing having to hear his ‘future self’ talk about you as if you thought he was the last pawn left in a chess game, waiting to be used for the greater good. 

“that’s not true.”

because he knew you. then again so did he. future is often wiser than present but if that’s the case then why did he feel anxious at his words? 

shaking his head like a parent who caught onto their child’s lie, the ‘shadow’ tsked in mock disappointment. “honestly, i thought you were self-aware of the majority of one’s actions. are you so blinded by the scorching love that [name] provides that you cannot even see that you’re burning?”

he wasn’t burning, and you weren’t so bright that he wouldn’t be able to see anything else besides you, either. it was infuriating how this version of him - more of a shell than aventurine was in the present time, hollowed out and left to rot on a tree branch of desolation - seemed to believe that he was wiser than him about the love of their? his life. 

aventurine was as loyal as he could be to you without pushing past his boundaries (which were often as weak as a dam made out of twigs when it came to you). he could say the same about you, the absolute truth to anyone but him. bringing a hand up to his hair aventurine scratched it roughly in discomforting thought. all of this ‘he said, he says’ was making him go crazy.

or crazier than he already is in this deforming dreamscape of twisted memories and second-takes. if he ever gets out of this ‘living nightmare’, the first thing he’s going to do is charge up to veritas and-

“i wonder if [name’s] flocked to ratio yet. clutching onto him as soft weeps leave puffy eyes.”

okay, buddy.

“what’s your deal?” aventurine hissed at the amusement drawn on his face, covered hands digging crescent shapes into his gloves. “you seem so adamant in getting me to believe [name] doesn’t love me, yet i’ll probably never-“ cutting himself off with a quick bite down on his tongue, letting it go swiftly when metallic laced his taste. 

he couldn’t think like that. that anxious feeling that sunk into his stomach as if it were made of quicksand tried to open and claw its way out of him.

if aventurine could not ever see your face or hear the voice (that he wanted to put on a record and play it repetitively), he feels as if he would rip out all of his hair that you adored combing your fingers through, floss it through his teeth, tie it up, and ha-

a shaky exhale, “there’s a high chance i’ll never see [name] again, so what’s the point of getting me to openly despise everything that pertains to…what’s the point?”

he only smirked in response, the expression on his face was akin to looking in a mirror of opposition to aventurine’s own. he hated how he looked.

oh. so that’s it, huh? could it be that his ‘future’ version seemed to be nothing more than what aventurine himself already imagine what his future would be like, was that it? whom was molded with clay laced with nothing but pure self-hatred without you being there to swat them away.

inhaling sharply, pain shot up through aventurine’s head as he doubled over. he clutched his head and gritted his teeth as if he had a severe brain-freeze, shaking it as he stomped a foot to the ground as if he were in a tantrum. in all honesty, he looked like he was. 

puffs of frustration left him as he glanced up, eyes meeting his own heavy, irritated ones as he stared into them with ferocity. “oh aventurine”, he spoke to himself as he blinked away.

“you’ve got to stop talking in mirrors.”

me if writing bad characterization for my fics was hilarious 😹😹😹 seriously though i need to character study him more. take this while i go cry into my pillow over exams 🙏 this didn’t go as i originally had in mind but we ball!!! i hope this flops harder than a fish on a deck after it has just been caught i hate it sm

#—stellaronhvnters. #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #🍙 - honkai star rail writings #aventurine x reader #looking at it now idk if “x reader” + “x you” is rly for it buttt #aventurine x you #hsr aventurine #aventurine hsr

[watchmegetobsessed]

OLD GRUDGES (part 3)

A/N: i know it took me way longer than it should have, but at last im here with the next part and that's what matters, right? thank you for the support on the prev parts, hope you'll enjoy this just as much!

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Meetings never really excited Harry, but lately, they have been his favorite along with studio sessions. Because these were the times he always got to see Y/N. 

Today he is going in with her favorite cookies in his bag that he picked up on his way, taking a detour just to drop by that one place she loves the most. It’s been a recurring thing for Harry, picking up a cup of coffee for her, buying her favorite snacks for their sessions or surprising her with lunch from that taco place she adores so much. He’s been doing practically anything to get a smile on her face because he feels like that’s the only thing he is destined to do. 

He’s been ignoring the fact that her time working on the project ends in two weeks, according to the contract. The only chance to stretch it longer if the required songs are not finished, but they are all practically done at this point. Harry tries his best not to think of what it will be like when he doesn’t get to see her as often as he does now. 

The meeting was scheduled only yesterday, so Harry has no idea what it is about, but it doesn’t really matter, they are supposed to record afterwards, so he only cares about spending more time with Y/N. 

However, the smile fades when he walks into the room and doesn’t see her. It’s odd, she is usually there before him, but now it’s just a couple of the studio engineers, Niall, Liam and Blake, the kind of weird manager from Modest who’s been working with them since they started recording for Midnight Memories. Harry has been getting these eerie vibes from him, but he just can’t put his finger on it, so he’s been sucking it up and ignoring it. He gave no reason not to be trusted so far. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Harry greets everyone walking into the room. 

“Ah, Harry! You’re here!” Blake smiles and they shake hands before Harry settles in a chair. “I was just telling the boys what this meeting is about. Good news, you are set for another album after Midnight Memories is released!”

It’s no surprise, to be honest. One album after the other, the pace has been just like that for a while. 

“Great,” he nods. “Do we know who we’re gonna work with?”

Blake then hands him a paper with a list of names and some other details. Harry runs over the names, looking for a particular one, but it’s not there.

“What about Y/N?” he asks.

“Ah, I wanted to tell you guys. She got another project kind of last minute, so she is done with the album for now and won’t be able to join for the next one, it seems like,” Blake explains casually and it doesn’t stand out to anyone else either, but it hits Harry in the chest pretty hard.

She is done with the album? Why didn’t she say anything? They talked on the phone just two days ago, why didn’t she even mention it?

And why isn’t she gonna work on the next album? Harry doubts she is booked that far ahead, she is just getting recognized in the industry and she told him herself she is living from one project to the other, works on the next album won’t start at least until they start touring Midnight Memories.

It’s not adding up, but on the other hand… Harry has no right to question her. Even despite how close he’s been getting to her, they are still just… coworkers. Friends. 

But nothing more. 

“Alright, now that we are talking about the next album, I have a little sneak peek of a song that could be a big hit!” Blake seems enthusiastic as he opens his laptop and then soon a demo starts playing, but Harry can’t really focus, he is too stuck on the fact that he has no more time left with Y/N. He even pulls out his phone, ready to text her and ask her how all of this happened, but then talks himself down. When he finally starts to listen to the song, it sounds familiar at first, but there are no lyrics and Harry often finds random songs familiar lately, because he just hears so many new melodies on a daily basis, they tend to blend together. 

“You like it?” Blake asks him and Harry just nods.

“Yeah. What is it called?”

Blake smiles confidently as he shuts the laptop down.

“Night Changes.”

The weather is finally good enough for grilling and the rowland household would take an opportunity anytime for that. Filling up their backyard with the people they love the most and feeding them burgers, hotdogs or basically anything Mitch is able to throw onto the grill. They usually have a gathering like this every month if their schedule and the weather allows. 

Now it’s finally the first official grill party of the year. 

Harry is sat outside by one of the tables, his plate is empty by now, but he knows he’ll get another round at one point. Cards are scattered on the tabletop, along with glasses of lemonade and beer, the kids are playing in the back somewhere by the treehouse, everything feels and looks idyllic.

For the past about two hours Harry couldn’t stop looking for Y/N. Stealing glances when she was talking to Sarah or playing with the kids, trying not to ogle her too obviously when she was laughing at something at the other table. He wanted to walk up to her a thousand times already, but he is trying to act cool and figure out how to act when there are other people around. 

It’s an unknown territory for sure. 

When Harry sees her walking towards the house he just can’t stay put. Excusing himself from the group he tries his best not to look suspicious as he follows her inside. Once the sliding door is closed behind him he quickens his steps down the hallway towards the bathroom, guessing she went there, but as he is approaching the door he notices it’s closed.

Should he try his luck and open it? Or maybe knock? Or…

Suddenly, the lock rattles and the door moves the tiniest bit, light coming through the gap. His heart skips a beat as he leaps forward and pushes the door open more so he can step inside.

And there she is, standing by the sink, checking herself out in the mirror when Harry walks in and closes the door behind him. Then slowly, she turns her gaze to him, for the first time today and for a moment Harry thinks she might tell him to fuck off and get out, but when he sees her lips part, he knows what she wants.

Him.

They collide fast, their usual hunger for each other taking over in a heartbeat. Demanding kisses, rough touches, they both know they should be in a hurry, Harry can’t even remember if he locked the door, it would be rather awkward if someone walked in on them.

Especially because no one knows about them, or whatever is going on between them. 

It’s been over a week since the dinner party that ended up with the most confusing but also mind-blowingly amazing sex they have ever had. When it was over Harry simply left and kept to what she said, that they would not talk about it and that’s exactly what happened. They never talked about it, but it happened again. 

Twice since then. 

And now they are going at it again. 

“Fuck,” Harry growls into her mouth when she reaches into his pants with quick but confident moves, because it’s not the first time she is doing it and he can only hope it’s not the last either. 

“Quickly,” she pants and he just nods, bunching up her dress and tugging her underwear down. It’s no surprise he is already hard, following her inside was like a foreplay to him, the secrecy, the chance that she might tell him to fuck off, his pulse has been rising before he stepped into the bathroom. 

They moan together when he thrusts into her, but then he gets back to kissing her to keep their voice down as he starts moving. Usually, they don’t talk when they are having sex, but Harry feels like changing that up, trying out how she reacts to something different. 

“You knew I would come after you, huh?” he pants against her lips.

“I did,” she breathes out, one arm curled around his neck, her other hand gripping the edge of the sink to keep her balance. 

“You thought about me fucking you all day?”

To that, she doesn’t answer and Harry almost regrets opening his mouth, but then she looks at him and nods.

“I did,” she repeats herself and even cracks a smile before pulling him closer to kiss him hard. And just like that, a tightening but warm feeling spreads in his chest. 

They don’t need much time, Harry is the first to come and she follows soon right after. Her head falls against his chest , rising and falling with his deep breaths and he tries to fight the urge, but then gives in and bringing up a hand he runs his fingers through her hair. Part of him fears this move might be too intimate for her and that she’ll shake him off of her any moment, but it never happens and Harry enjoys it, probably way more than he should. 

They clean themselves up and soon it’s just the sparkle in their eyes that proves what they just did. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asks, fixing her makeup in the mirror. 

“Are you asking me out or something?” Harry cheekily asks and she just smacks his chest playfully.

“I have some stuff I’ve been working on that I want to show you.”

Harry’s pulse fastens again. This is just like it was before, when it was just the two of them, sharing the songs they were working on. 

“I would love that,” he smiles at her, watching her walk to the door. 

“Alright. I’ll text you then.”

Y/N walks out and Harry knows they are back to not talking and for a second he wonders how long he’ll be able to keep going like this. 

When he walks out he is still deep in his thoughts, but then when he reaches the kitchen he comes to a halt, seeing Mitch by the kitchen island, sipping on some lemonade, a knowing look on his face.

“Hey man,” Harry clears his throat and joins him instead of walking outside.

“Hey. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Want to share why I just saw Y/N coming from the same direction as you just did?”

“Uh… you know, we just…”

Harry can’t quite find the right words, especially because he doesn’t like and can’t really lie to Mitch, but he also wants to keep the no talking rule. Mitch stares back at him with a blank face for a second, but then his eyes go wide.

“No way.”

“What?” Harry laughs.

“For real?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You and… you and Y/N?”

Harry doesn’t answer, but that’s quite the answer to Mitch.

“Oh my God, how long has this been going on?”

“Keep it down!” He hushes his friend. “It’s… it’s nothing official or anything.”

“But it is something, right? What is it?”

Harry once again just stays silent.

“You two are having sex?” More silence. “Oh my God! Did you just do it in the bathroom?!”

“Shh!” Harry tries to shush him again, but he also can’t hold back his smile, thinking about what just took place in that bathroom. 

“Harry, what the hell! When… How did that happen? You know what? I don’t want to know about that,” Mitch changes his mind quickly, making Harry laugh. “But like… what is it?”

“I told you, it’s nothing o–”

“No, I mean… what do you want it to be?”

Harry sighs as he turns so he can look out at the backyard through the sliding door. And there she is, with a glass in her hand as she is talking to Sarah, laughing at something and Harry wishes he knew what it was. 

“I just… I like her. A lot.”

“But you two had been hating each other passionately, what happened to that?”

“I think we took the passionately part and turned it into something else,” Harry smirks cheekily, his eyes still glued to her figure outside. 

“Oh my God, you are so gone for her,” Mitch breathes out, shaking his head. “You’re falling for her!”

Harry turns back to Mitch and hesitates before speaking up.

“I already fell for her. When we worked together years ago. But then she basically disappeared and when we met again, she acted like I was her mortal enemy,” Harry chuckles. Calling himself the enemy sounds ridiculous, but it’s the most fitting he could say. “And now…” he hums, but doesn’t finish his thought out loud.

“And now you’re falling for her again?”

“I might be,” he nods.

The Sun has set, but the party's still going. Well, it’s not raging, some of the people who came with kids have left and Scout has been put down by Mitch as well, but a handful of guests are still out on the terrace, playing card games and sharing stories. 

Y/N sits right across from Harry and he has noticed the change. She is losing her cold act towards him, slowly but surely. They can finally talk and joke around almost like back in the days. Harry however doesn’t want to let himself go deeper than he should, he knows he is on an unstable field with her and he feels like it all could snap any moment, but…

It feels so amazing.

Making her laugh, sharing knowing looks, teasing each other like old friends, Harry missed being like this. 

When he notices that she’s probably cold his first thought is to offer his hoodie, but he is quick to stop himself, he’s sure it might be too much at once so he instead just asks around who needs a blanket as he is heading inside anyway so he can easily grab a few. 

But then as the night comes to an end, he still decides to try and dance around the unsaid boundaries.

“Hey, I just ordered a car, added your address as well.” Harry tells her when he sees her open the Uber app on her phone.

“Ah, no need, I can just–”

“Already ordered it,” he insists, hoping she’ll accept it and luckily, it seems like she is not in the mood to argue. 

The car ride is quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind. She is on her phone, reading what seems like emails to Harry and he notices the change in her instantly.

“Everything alright?”

She looks up with a frown and then sighs, locking her phone. 

“Just work. I have this annoying assistant, called Daryl up in my ass on another project, he is trying to get me to give way more than I’m obligated to. I don’t even know who his boss is, the damn guy is like a mystery for some reason.”

“Like, they want more music from you?”

“Yes,” she nods. “They want to listen to stuff I’m working on in case something fits the album, but I’ve already delivered what I was paid for.”

Although he is eager to know more, to offer his help, he stays silent, staying within the boundaries this time, not pushing his luck even more. It’s a miracle itself that she even said this much about anything personal. 

“So tomorrow?” Y/N asks when the car stops in front of her house. Harry looks at her and for a moment, all he can think about is the last time they were here like this. 

“Yeah, I’m free,” he manages to speak up, snapping out of his memories.

“I’ll text you. Bye then,” she nods before climbing out of the car and heading towards her front door. Harry watches her for a bit before he tells the driver to leave. 

She still hasn’t texted him. It’s four in the afternoon and he hasn’t heard of her since she got dropped off last night. 

He was up early, went for a run, because he definitely needed to put his extra energy into something instead of continuously checking his phone, hoping for a text to pop up. Then he grabbed himself a bagel on the way back, brewed a coffee when he got home and had his breakfast while staring at his phone like a sore loser. 

He took that damn phone everywhere he went. Literally everywhere. But the hours passed by and he got no sign and at first he just thought she got busy with something, but by the time he was done with lunch, it turned into a worry. 

She was as punctual as one could get and she would have already texted him by now, even if it was just about that she is running late with whatever she was doing. A decent session lasts at least three or four hours and she is not one to pull an allnighter.

He has kept ordering himself to be patient all day, but now he lost the last bits of his bearing. At last he decides a text is fine, she can answer whenever it’s convenient. 

HARRY: Hey, are we still up for a sesh? 

He keeps the conversation open and watches his message sit there, its status staying delivered for what feels like forever. Then, about twenty minutes later, it changes to read and the three dots start dancing at the bottom of the screen as Harry’s heart threatens to jump right out of his chest. He knows he is acting ridiculously, but he pushes the thought to the back of his head for now. 

The dots then disappear, but no message arrives. A minute goes by and they reappear and this time a gray bubble follows.

Y/N: I got a bit of a situation on my hands rn.

Then a photo pops up of her house with two police cars parked at the front and Harry’s stomach drops.

HARRY: I’m going over.

He sends the message before he could even think it through and he is already out the door by the time she reads his reply. 

When he arrives one of the police cars is still there and Y/N is out front, talking to an officer. She is lacking her usual on-spot style, wearing a baggy sweat set, her hair in a state of mess he has never seen before, but even despite the worried expression on her face, she looks annoyingly beautiful. 

She spots him as he gets out of his car, crossing the lawn with a slow jog.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asks, on the verge of losing his marbles if he doesn’t find out what happened immediately.

“Give me a minute,” she tells him, turning back to the officer. “Thank you for everything. I’ll let you know if I find anything that’s missing.”

“Take care, Miss. We’ll have a car patrol around the neighborhood every hour for the next 24 hours, though it’s unlikely they will come back.”

With a nod, the officer walks over to the car, gets in and they drive away.

“What the hell happened?” Harry asks when Y/N finally turns to him.

“Someone broke into my house,” she says and then just simply heads back inside. Harry jogs after her. 

“What? When?” 

Y/N is walking straight to her kitchen and Harry follows her, locking the front door behind him. 

“I went to a yoga class in the morning. When I came back, I noticed my lock was picked and the door was open.” 

Harry watches her rummage through a cabinet before grabbing a bottle of tequila along with two glasses. She shoots a questioning look to him, to which he just nods, though he is still lost, confused and kind of angry. She pours a generous amount into both glasses and then hands one over to Harry before chugging hers down faster than ever. 

“Did anything go missing?”

“Literally nothing,” she laughs bitterly. “Everything seems untouched and I just don’t understand it at all. Why would someone break in if they don’t take anything valuable?”

“Money? Jewelry? Everything is here?”

“Everything. I checked everything.”

Harry is now just as clueless as Y/N. It doesn’t make any sense, but it’s also somehow even worse. Whoever broke in had a reason to, but it’s completely hidden for now. 

When she reaches for the bottle again he notices how much her hands are shaking. She is a nervous wreck. 

“Hey, you don’t want to lose your rationality right now,” Harry softly warns her as he grabs her hand and stops her from pouring another one. 

“I’m fucking terrified, Harry,” she admits, her voice shakes and so weak like never before. Harry’s heart breaks for her. “Have you ever felt unsafe in your own home?”

“I have,” Harry answers without hesitation and that’s when she finally looks him in the eyes again. “I had a few stalkers throughout the years and attempted break-ins.”

And just like that, something changes in her. The last bits of the wall she so carefully built up between the two of them are destroyed and she lets him see her fully and so naked emotionally. Her lips tremble, tears dwell in her eyes and just as the first sob breaks out of her chest, he is pulling her into his embrace. 

For a second Harry thinks it might be just luck, that she is only opening up to him like this because he is the one who is physically here with her, but he then wipes this thought and just focuses on being the support she truly needs. 

He holds her tight as she cries into his chest, pressing kisses to the top of her head until she calms down and regains control over her breathing. 

“Pack a bag for a few days, stay at mine for a bit, okay?” he softly says when she finally pulls back, just enough to look at him. She doesn’t try to put up a fight, just nods and lets him walk her up to her bedroom. 

He helps her pack, she grabs the clothes while Harry packs her laptop and chargers. Half an hour later they are getting into his car before heading over to Harry’s place. The car ride is silent and Harry doesn’t even try to talk her through it. He knows how important it is to let her find her own peace in this situation instead of trying to just temporarily divert her attention. 

It’s actually her first time at his place, so she is curiously examining the place when they finally arrive. Harry shows her around quickly and then they reach the bedrooms upstairs.

“Choose a bedroom, personally my favorite is that one,” he smiles softly, pointing at the one next to his own bedroom. She walks closer and peeks inside, then into his bedroom and he watches her patiently.

“Can I… sleep with you?”

Her request surprises him, but he would be lying if he said a part of him wasn’t hoping for it. 

“Sure, of course,” he nods and gestures for her to walk inside. 

He sets down her bag to the ottoman at the end of his king sized bed while she looks around. Harry grabs a towel for her from the closet and hands it over to her.

“Take a shower, I’ll make tea for you, how does that sound?”

She just nods, holding the towel to her chest and he can’t believe how vulnerable she looks. The Y/N he’s known for the past few months is nothing like the woman standing in front of him right now. 

“Alright, then I’ll…” 

He clears his throat and then turns around to give her privacy, but he doesn’t even get to take a step before she grabs his hand and pulls him back. He opens his mouth to ask what else she needs, but he is met with her lips pressing against his, hard and needy and he wastes no time to return the kiss just as passionately. His arms curl around her tightly, like an armor, ready to protect her from anything and everything. 

They stumble into the bathroom and she pulls away, just enough so that she can start stripping out of her clothes, but Harry stops for a minute before things get too heated too fast.

“Wait, are you… Today was a lot, are you sure you… want to…?”

“I’m sure. I need this,” she nods and even though she appears just as vulnerable as before, there’s some kind of strong will mixed in her state now. Harry stares back at her, looking for any kind of sign that this might be a bad idea, but then she adds: “I need you.”

And Harry knows in that moment that he would give her anything in this world, because he fell for her again, but this time, it’s nothing like he has ever felt before.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

[zordanna]

𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓮

A fluffy fic inspired from this old drawing I did🍃

English is not my first language and I hate writing so don’t expect too much. It’s just a small scene where Sebastian realises he’s in love with my MC, you can imagine yours there too of course! I ain’t stopping you🫡 enjoy I guess?

Sebastian yawned softly as he kept silently reading his history of magic notes while sitting on the carpet and resting his back on the couch, Eleonora was next to him laying fully on it while reading the chapter trying really hard to not fall asleep.

“Ugh I swear I’m failing this time”

She mumbled while flipping pages. Sebastian rolled his eyes and spoke back with annoyance.

“You literally have the highest grades of all the students in our class, shut up-”

Eleonora huffed and gave him a soft nudge with her knee in response.

“Just because the competition prefers wandering in the restricted section more than studying actual subjects. You know- instead of  forbidden ones”

Sebastian groaned and rested his head on the couch seat cushion to look at her better.

“You are a pain in the ass.” He breathed out glancing back at his notes pretending to ignore her.

“The feeling is mutual”

She ruffled his brown curls gaining a soft laugh from him , the boy rested one cheek on the  cushion and gazed at her while his notes ended up spread around the intricated embodied carpet of Russel  living room. Sebastian  glanced at the book and got an idea.

“I can read it for you, if you want, so we both learn something at least”

His proposal sounded quite nice to Eleonora, she gave him the book and set herself comfortable as he cleared his throat. He started reading and he could almost feel her gaze caressing his skin, Sebastian didn’t know how he managed to say the words correctly without fumbling while having that lovely pair of blue eyes staring at him, the warmth of her presence, her sweet scent of lavender and soap pervading his nostrils…Merlin help him!

On the other side Eleonora’s eyes were looking at his freckles, she always thought they looked like a starry sky , sometimes she would find full constellations in them while stealing glances at her friend’s features. She  glanced  at his lashes, was it even legal to have them so long and soft? The way they fluttered while he was  reading, the way the sun was making them shine with a warm orange shade. She was mesmerised. That’s for sure. The words sounded like a sweet lullaby rather than an actual lecture on how their ancestors channeled magic trough the years, her eyes felt heavy and her body a little too relaxed. 

Maybe if she closed her eyes just for a second…yeah that should do it.

Sebastian was reading the last paragraph when he heard  soft snoring coming from his right side ,he turned his head a little to check on Eleonora and a warm smile formed on his lips as he realised she had fallen asleep. He closed the book putting it away before adjusting himself leaning closer to the sleeping girl. He rested his elbow on the couch cushion careful to not disturb her rest, as usual Eleonora needed her afternoon nap.

Memories of their third year flashed in his mind, rainy afternoons spent napping all together on the same couch down in the undercroft between a mess of books and unfinished candies. Anne was still…well Anne. No curse, no pain just Anne, sleeping peacefully while her tiny head would rest on Ominis shoulder as he was  nestled up almost like a cat. Eleonora’s long blonde hair would tickle his nose as he often found himself using her soft curls as a pillow. They always smelled so good it wasn’t his fault they felt so comfy.

Instinctively Sebastian brushed off some of her blonde strands that were framing her face, very carefully as if she was made of porcelain. Her long blonde curls that once were left wild and free were now tied up in that blue ribbon he gifted her almost two years ago.

“You keep wearing it all the time mh?”

He mumbled softly more to himself than to her. The soft blue satin fabric was a bit smudged near the knot after years of wearing it every day, that’s what happens with the things you love most isn’t it? They change. 

Sebastian always questioned why she would refuse to buy another one, a prettier one maybe made from the most expensive silk with embodied details but she always said that one was just perfect. She loved it.

And he loved how beautiful she looked with it. He loved the way it always made her eyes stand out matching their colour, he loved how it swayed like a swallowtail when she would rush around the hallways late for classes trying to not trip on other students. Swallows are a sign of hope and freedom, he was certain that if she had to be an animal she would be one of them. She was always there trying to see the good side of everything, which in his darker days was both infuriating and yet comforting. It was reassuring  having her slapping some sense in his thick skull sometimes, he couldn’t deny it.

He also loved that, her scolding tone, her stubbornness and resolution whenever he was acting like a complete ass. He loved the way she would ruffle his hair to annoy him, he loved how her soft hands were making him feel butterflies flying around his stomach every damn time…

Sebastian’s chocolate brown eyes were fixed on Eleonora’s delicate face as the sudden realisation hit him like a whole bombarda in his chest.

He was falling in love. No. He was in love. Utterly. Undeniably in love. 

He didn’t realise his face was few centimetres away from hers till now, his lips dangerously close to hers. Before doing something stupid and reckless he pulled away slightly and took a moment to gain his composure, his eyes wandered around the luxurious living room of her family’s manor, the paintings of the Russels were almost staring at him, judging him with their cold gaze.

Who was he trying to fool? He was nobody compared to her family, an orphan living in a cottage with his grumpy uncle, it would never be fair to her. Knowing her parents Eleonora had probably her life planned since day one, as her older sister Ofelia once told him they lived in a golden cage with all comforts but still a cage. It was all doomed from the start so- for now it was better to suppress those feelings. To pretend they never had been there.

For now having her friendship was more than he could hope for, Sebastian looked at the big wood carved clock and checked the time, it was getting pretty late, he sighed and with a soft spoken tone called for her.

“Hey…Birdie”

The world would never want them together, that’s what he was telling himself, yet when he saw those blue eyes and that warm sleepy smile greeting him Sebastian thought that the world could burn or destroy itself in that exact moment.

The world would know Lady Eleonora Russel but Birdie. Birdie was just for him and that was all he needed.

“Birdie? What am I a chicken?”

Eleonora said with a snort while sitting up and stretching a bit letting a yawn escape her lips.

“No more like a goose.”

Sebastian retorted with a cheeky grin. She had no idea of what passed by his mind all the short time she was asleep.

“Ouch- did I snore loud?”

“Terribly. I mistaken you for a troll or something at some point.”

Eleonora laughed at  the statement and crossed her arms in a proud stance. 

“Was I annoying you?”

“Terribly.” Sebastian said faking an exasperated sigh.

“Good. I can consider my mission accomplished then”

She added with a chuckle while they both got up to walk towards the kitchen for stealing a snack or two. Luckily her parents wouldn’t be back till next early morning considering their habit to attend balls and ceremonies  maintaining their high social status connections. That was a relief for the two of them but also for the servitude. The house elves were quite fond of Eleonora, a true ray of sunshine in that toxic household.

The afternoon passed by with their usual playful bantering like any other. It was better pretending nothing happened for Sebastian, it was for the best really.

Was it? Only time would tell. For now they were just fifteen, sitting on the kitchen counter munching a stolen slice of lemon tart while yapping about how they were both convinced Professor Garlick was hiding “special plants” somewhere in the greenhouse. 

It was a normal  spring afternoon during the end of the 19th century.

Flowers were blooming , birds were chirping and the air smelled like clean laundry and soap.

Winter was just a distant thought, none of them could ever imagine how everything  would irreversibly change in few months.

Moments like these would be soon turned into distant faded happy memories but for now…it was all that mattered.

#hogwarts legacy #art #hogwarts legacy art #hogwarts legacy mc #illustrators on tumblr #my ocs #oc art #artwork #illustration #sebastian sallow #mc x sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x mc #fluff #oc x canon #sebastian sallow x reader

[szasfuckingwife]

MEMORIES

A/N: angst. Just angst!😁

Sunflowers were Geto’s favourite. You remember, he doesn’t. When he first met you, in your schools gardens, he couldn’t stop talking about the supposed ‘healing’ powers of the plant.

He liked lattes at his favourite café. You remember, he doesn’t. When you mentioned to him that you worked at a café, Geto wanted to see what it all was about. That’s where he fell in live with your ethic. Seeing you, behind the counter, working like a madman just to serve something as simple as coffee had him head over heels.

Never, ever, has Suguru ever liked musicals. You remember, he doesn’t. Yet, he knows each one you like, and could recall the lyrics if given the opportunity. One secret he’ll always keep is that he very much enjoyed his time watching Hairspray in theatres with you.

He hates smoking. You remember, he doesn’t. It’s simple: Suguru hates smoking because you hate it. Ever since he picked up the trait, you were never a fan. It even caused a mini argument when you flushed his cigarettes down the toilet.

Mornings were nice to Suguru. You remember, he doesn’t. Mornings where he kisses your side, whispers sweet nothings into your ear about how much he loves you and how you’re a ‘good girl’ for him. Mornings are even better when he feels your tight cunt wrap around him.

He hates arguing. You remember, he doesn’t. It’s something you did frequently because you were so in love. Whether it was about jealousy or money or whatever. Call it toxic, but you always loved him. There were times you guys had to physically be apart from each other. That’s what caused Suguru to drive down freeway that night, raging and not concentrated on the road.

All that filled his head was you. Did you want to leave him? Was it over? What about the ring he bought? What now?! The questions circled his mind as he tried to answer them. It was a shame he didn’t notice the massive truck lights that were soon to crash into his car.

Suguru hated that he couldn’t remember. You remember, but why doesn’t he? What sunflowers? Where did you used to work? Everything was a blur, from the moment he woke up in the hospital bed with your soft hands over his, to when he came home to see your pictures hung around the apartment.

Who was he?

Your heart broke the day the doctors told you that he was suffering from amnesia after his brain surgery. He was never himself again. More disassociated and more angry.

It wasn’t your Suguru. The one you remember, and the one he doesn’t.

this is my poor attempt in explaining getos personality change in a nonjujutsu!world😁

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #geto suguru angst #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu geto #geto x you #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru

[lilasamaaa]

In the crowd | Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genres | Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

Word count | 3.6K.

Warnings | Alcohol consumption, drugs, mentions of violence.

Summary | Reader's an engineer at Scuderia Ferrari in Maranello. While attending the season's launch party, her drink gets spiked.

Author's Note | Hi all! After the longest time, I've felt the need to come back here for some silly writing. New blog because the last one got cringe. Let me know what you think!

One might think that after two years within the scuderia, the season’s launch parties would make her less uneasy. That after two years of being apart of the engineering team, she would finally be used to attending public gatherings. That after two years, she’d be a natural at walking in the open, feeling the glances slide over her figure. She is stunningly beautiful. Perhaps that's her burden. She doesn't realize it. 

When she walks across the paddock or the stands, she knows people are staring at her. She avoids meeting their gazes, feeling embarrassed. She thinks there must be something wrong with her outfit, with her gait. Why else would they stare for so long?

In Maranello, there’s a bakery at the corner of the HQ building where she stops every morning. The cashier always offers her something extra. A coffee. An additional pastry. She finds him polite, very customer-oriented. One morning, as she was freeing her croissant from the paper napkin it was wrapped in, she’d discovered a phone number scrawled in pen ink, with a hastily drawn smiley face. She’d stared at the napkin, perplexed, seated at her desk. He must have made a mistake, she thinks. It must have been meant for the customer before her. The one with the beautiful blonde curls and the Chanel perfume. She didn't call, didn't send a message. She continued to visit the bakery. The cashier never mentioned the number, proving her theory.

Someone brushing past her brings her back to earth. The party is in full swing, and she’s just not. She spots her colleagues bustling around the buffet and the bar, engrossed in lively conversations. While some don't even notice her, others wave their hands, encouraging her to join them. She forces a smiles, returns the wave. Then she tightens her grip around her clutch. Anything to make her feel like she’s in control. To make her forget that the music’s too loud, the lights too vibrant, the air too hot. 

She doesn't remember ever feeling comfortable in her body. Years of growing up in an unstable family where love was doled out sparingly do that to a person. 

"Hey," comes a familiar voice. She turns her head, her big eyes catching sight of Livio’s, one of her colleagues. "Are you not dancing?" he continues, a drink in hand. His whiskey breath hits her straight on. She discreetly glances at her watch, noting that it's barely nine.

"I haven't had enough to drink for that," she replies, trying to dodge the invitation.

"Let's go get you something then," Livio responds, grabbing her arm and heading towards the bar.

She's noticed that men always do that with her. Not just her colleagues, but people she doesn't know either. She's too kind, too gentle; she never raises her voice. So they grab her by the hips, the arms, the wrists. Anything is an excuse to touch her. She hates it.

"What do you want?" Livio asks.

Nothing, really, but she can't say that.

"Something sweet, please. I don't like strong alcohol," she replies. Livio seems to ponder her question for a second, his mouth pursed.

"I have something for you to try, wait," he continues, signaling to the bartender. "You're going to like it, don't worry."

A few seconds later, a glass of Plymouth is placed in front of her, and she looks up at Livio. Does he think I've never tasted gin in my life? she wonders, puzzled. She would like to refuse the drink, ask for the cherry liqueur she discovered last time indeed. But already, Livio has grabbed her glass and hands it to her with a big smile. "Salute," he exclaims, downing his own glass in one gulp.

Cries and applause suddenly echo in the large reception hall, causing her to turn her head. It takes her a few minutes to understand the reason for this sudden commotion. Until she sees them, a few meters away.

Charles and Carlos.

Her eyes can't seem to tear away from the two pilots making their way through the crowd to a small stage where a microphone is set up. It's tradition : to kick off the season in style, the entire team eagerly awaits the drivers' speeches. Everyone wants to hear their words, their encouragements, their hopes and goals for the season.

A friend once asked her if she knew Charles and Carlos personally. She can't really say yes. That would be a lie. She's exchanged words with each of the athletes before, giving them information about the race, their car, and the expected weather. These exchanges have always been brief and cordial. Professional. Nothing more.

Even though... No, she thinks, lightly shaking her head. That was nothing. But still...

It had happened just before the race in Singapore, last year.

A friend from engineering school had moved there at the beginning of the year, and they had agreed to meet for dinner at a fancy restaurant in the city. It was an opportunity to reminisce about the years spent at Polytechnique, studying (a bit), suffering (a lot), and getting drunk (a whole lot).

She had chosen a long emerald green silk dress, slit up to mid-thigh. The perfect balance between classy and sexy. She had no intention of charming her companion - notoriously attracted to men, anyway - but this meal was the perfect excuse to leave her eternal Ferrari jumpsuits for something more feminine.

In the long corridor leading to the elevator, she'd suddenly felt on a catwalk, letting herself get caught up in the moment and rolling her hips perhaps a tad too exaggeratedly. The person emerging from the corner at the far end of the corridor surprised her, but not enough to disrupt her stride, her heels clicking against the floor.

She had recognized him immediately, of course.

Dressed in a simple fitted black polo and a pair of dark jeans, his eyes had not left hers throughout their crossing. When the two had finally reached the same level, she'd breathed out a small "Good evening, Carlos," suddenly insecure about everything. Her outfit. Her gait. The messy bun revealing her neck. The cleavage leaving no room for a bra and showing the beginning of her breasts.

He had passed her, nodding in acknowledgment, and each had continued on their way. She was certain... No, almost certain, that she had dreamt the words that had followed.

"That's one lucky guy."

Yes, she was almost certain she had dreamt it. Watching the Spaniard in the distance take hold of the microphone and tap it gently to check the connections, she became increasingly convinced. There was no chance that this man, chiseled from marble, could have noticed her. Desired her.

His accent echoes throughout the room, and she instinctively closes her eyes, as if bathed in the gentle sun of Madrid. She's not listening - not really - only catching words here and there. "Truly an honor," "Very impressed by your efforts," "Promising changes." But her mind is elsewhere, between Maranello and Singapore, tethered to the memory that makes her lower abdomen tingle in the sweetest of ways.

"And now, it's time to celebrate!" Carlos says as the room erupts with joy and anticipation.

"Earth to you?" comes a much less pleasant voice than the one that has just quieted down.

"I'm sorry, what?" she says, returning her attention to Livio.

"Oh, wow, you've got to be kidding me. Is it just me, or are you completely absorbed by this guy?" Livio replies, his mouth twisted in a grimace.

"Who?" she asks, genuinely confused.

"Sainz. You were hanging on his every word."

"I just think it's nice that they're giving an encouraging speech. Both of them," she explains, avoiding the Italian's gaze.

"Yeah, okay. Should we get another drink?" he asks, taking hold of her arm again.

She wants to protest. She can still taste the gin at the back of her mouth. It can't have been more than twenty minutes since her first drink. But Livio is already almost dragging her behind him, clearly determined not to let her escape tonight. And once again, that hand locks around her arm. Firm. Not open to discussion. She feels something almost territorial in the gesture, something that strongly displeases her, so she vows to mention it to Livio. Someday. Not tonight.

This time, he doesn't even pretend to care about what she wants to drink, ordering two whiskies straight away. She hates it. The taste, the look, what this alcohol does to her mind and body. But Livio has already slipped two bills to the bartender, and a moment later, the amber liqueur lands in her right hand.

While her drinking companion is already tilting his head back, clearly unaware that this type of alcohol is to be savored and not downed in one go, she observes the glass, intrigued by the few bubbles that are forming on the surface. I had no idea whiskey could do that, she thinks before bringing the liquid to her lips.

A few minutes later, she's managed to shake off Livio by claiming she needed to use the restroom. She crosses paths with Carlos walking in the other direction, maybe three people ahead of her, but he doesn't notice her.

In front of the restroom mirror, touching up her lipstick, her focus changes as she sees a drop of sweat trickle down her temple and slide slowly onto her cheek. I'm rather cold, though, she thinks, almost suppressing a shiver. Her head suddenly feels very light. She blames the alcohol. Putting her lipstick back in her clutch and tucking a strand of hair that threatened to escape from her bun, she pushes the restroom door open again, bracing herself to face the social world once more.

Passing by the buffet, a wave of nausea washes over her, forcing her to stop for a few seconds, leaning against the table and closing her eyes.

"I thought it was you," echoes the sunny accent in her ears. With her eyes still closed, she wishes their new encounter, one that she'd admit she's dreamed about, had happened differently. At a better time. A time when she wasn't battling a fierce urge to throw up.

"Are you okay?" Carlos inquires, raising his hand as if to support her but stopping halfway.

She takes a few seconds to push the unpleasant sensations from her body as far away as possible before lifting her head, opening her eyes, and being rewarded with the exquisite sight of his luscious hair and amber eyes.

"Hi," she manages to utter in a faint voice. "Great speech," she continues, still leaning against the table.

"You look pale," the driver responds, looking concerned.

The words escape her lips before they even reach her brain. She regrets them instantly. Something inside her just give way, like a dam.

"Sorry. I must have looked better in Singapore," she says.

Carlos widens his eyes, surprised, before letting out an awkward laugh.

"Sorry for staring at you like that, that night. You were... Well, you are...," he continues, seeming to search for his words.

She would so love to hear the rest, to know what he was going to say. But dizziness seizes her, and she feels herself tipping against the table. Well, almost, because suddenly, an arm wraps around her waist, pressing her against a chest that, yes, she's also dreamed about several times. But not like this. Not in this state.

"Hey," Carlos says, his voice tinged with worry.

"I'm so sorry, this never happens to me. I must have had one drink too many, I—"

"I saw you at the bar not even ten minutes ago," the Spaniard continues. "No alcohol hits you that fast. Not even shots."

"I'm fine," she says, and the pilot understands that she's saying it not only to reassure him but herself as well. And, as if the words had commanded it, the fog in her mind dissipates a bit. Enough for her to gently detach herself from the pilot, finding her balance on her own two feet again. She'd like to take advantage of this newfound clarity to keep the Spaniard close to her. Him, that she never crosses paths with, whom she never speaks to, and yet who appeals to her so much.

But Charles arrives. He smiles at her, asks if she's okay, if she's enjoying the evening, and oh, "I'll borrow him for a moment, I'm so sorry, sponsors, you know," and oh, once again, she finds herself alone at the buffet, watching the two men walk away, Carlos still watching her as he reluctantly retreats.

"I was beginning to think he'd never leave," Livio says, leaning against the buffet, his hip brushing against hers.

She wants to scream. Oh, how badly she wants to.

Sensing that she's not going to respond, the Italian tries his luck again.

"Should we dance? You seem intoxicated enough, now."

She doesn't even have time to respond before her colleagues guides her onto the dance floor, eagerly pressing his body against hers. His breath, previously tinged with whiskey, now betrays hints of tequila. The guy never has enough, she thinks, twirling reluctantly.

And there it goes again. The nausea, the queasiness. Spinning her around like a puppet doesn't help, she tells herself. She comes to a halt, cutting off Livio's momentum, causing some dancing couples to narrowly avoid colliding with them. Feeling vulnerable, she tries to get away, to seek refuge elsewhere. But her wrist is once again trapped.

"You don't look well. Come on, let's get you some fresh air," Livio says, heading towards one of the large glass doors.

She's often been described as naive by her loved ones. She believes that the whole world means well towards her, never suspects anyone of ill intentions. She would even say about herself that she has no instincts, let alone survival instincts. No sense of danger. Yet, perhaps for the first time in her life, something deep inside her is screaming not to follow the man. Her signals are on alert. Everything is flashing red in her mind. For her, it's a first. So, without thinking, without worrying about offending her colleague, she acts.

"I don't need to go outside," she says, trying to free herself from his grasp. She's sweating. She feels the unpleasant sensation of a thin layer of dampness creeping over her neck, her back, her hands.

Her feeble resistance is no match for Livio's strength, as he pulls her outside despite her protests. The music is too loud for anyone to hear their altercation. Divided between the buffet, the bar, and the dance floor, no one pays attention to this mismatched couple, to the determined man dragging a struggling woman behind him.

The door closes heavily behind them, stifling the sounds of the party, captured on the other side. It's cold outside, she feels it because her whole body shivers. But she, who was cold just a short while ago, feels like she's boiling. She raises her hand to her forehead, wiping away another bead of sweat that's formed between her eyebrows. What's happening to me? she thinks internally, troubled. Alcohol has never put her in such a state before.

"I'm so glad I ran into you tonight," Livio begins, either oblivious or indifferent to the young woman's condition.

She doesn't respond, feeling her head spinning, leaning against the wall behind her, gasping to try to catch her breath. Trying to control the burning heat that's engulfing her body.

"You look really beautiful tonight. Quite a change from the work overalls, huh!" the man continues.

She's not exactly sure at what moment he slipped between her legs, facing her, just a few centimeters from her face. But he's there, too close, forcing her to turn her head to the side to avoid his gaze - and his alcohol-laden breath.

"I said, you look really beautiful tonight," Livio says. "Are you not going to say anything?"

"What do you expect me to say to that?" she says, jaw clenched.

"Do you find me attractive?" the man asks, meeting her gaze.

The warning signals reappear along with the nausea. She barely has time to push the man away and lean to the side before emptying her stomach inches away from his feet. The naivety stops there. The pieces of the puzzle fall into place, realization hitting her painfully.

"What did you do to me?" she asks, her knees giving way under her weight, sending her crashing to the ground. He sneers, rolling his eyes, as she crawls a few meters, trying to put some distance between them. She's now sitting on the ground, her back to the wall.

"What? What are you talking about?" the Italian replies, offended.

"Did you put something in my drink?" she asks again.

"Come on, now. I've been helping you ever since you said you weren't feeling well. What kind of monster do you think I am?"

For a moment, her colleague's wounded look makes her seriously doubt herself. Maybe it really is just the alcohol, she thinks, trying to calm her racing mind. After all, why would someone deliberately choose to harm her? Why jump to that conclusion? Livio has always been charming. A bit clingy, but charming.

"I'm sorry for implying that. I'm gonna head back inside," she says, trying to stand up.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Livio answers, pushing her back down.

"What? why?" she asks, surprised.

"It wouldn't be very wise to parade in front of your colleagues and superiors in such a poor state," the Italian begins, his tone almost mocking. "It really doesn't give a good impression of you. It's not very professional."

"I haven't done anything, just had a few drinks," she responds, annoyed. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"You're so wasted you can't even stand. At a work event. Do you want to get fired or something?"

She opens her mouth to speak, to defend herself, but no words come out. She can't seem to figure out if Livio is with her or against her anymore. His words are harsh, aggressive, but deep down, the engineer probably isn't wrong. She struggled to secure a position here, at Ferrari. Even though she believes herself to be fairly skilled at her job and puts in long hours, there are hundreds of others doing the same work as her every day. And hundreds more who could replace her if the need arose.

She's not indispensable. She's not even that good at speaking Italian, having always had more ease in English or in French, even though she spends the majority of her evenings reading books in the language. She's just a tiny cog in the machine. She thinks about Carlos, too. What would he think, seeing me stumbling in the middle of the dance floor like a mad woman?

"Let me drive you home," Livio says, extending his hand. "Spare you the embarrassment.

She hadn't realized how tired she was. The offer is rather tempting. Getting back to her apartment, her cat, her bed. Above all, escaping the crowd. Forgetting this evening. Forgetting whatever she thought there was with Carlos, too, while she's at it. As a stronger wave of sleep washes over her, she temporarily closes her eyes.

"Come on," he says. "Let's get you in the car."

After her brain, her legs refuse to cooperate too. Her body barricades itself, trying to keep her firmly sheltered. Losing patience, Livio hoists her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She wants to protest against the position she finds herself in. That's so unladylike. Her last few connected neurons grapple over strange thoughts. I hope nobody sees my underwear, she thinks before her brain disconnects once again.

She's so far gone, yet the next words sound crystal-clear in her ears.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

Sounds like Carlos, she thinks, delirious.

"What does it look like to you? I'm bringing her home. She's wasted," she hears, and she thinks it might be Livio, because she feels his body shaking with each words.

"There's no way I'm letting you leave with her. Put her down."

"Yeah? So you can have your way with her?"

"No, so I can punch you in the fucking face," the accent-thick voice shouts.

She must have passed out for good because she doesn't remember anything else. When she wakes up next, which feels like an eternity later, she's sitting against a wall, this time indoors, wrapped in a golden emergency blanket. There's no more music. Opening one eye, then the next, she's met with Carlos' brown ones. She tries to speak but her mouth feels dry. The Spaniard hands her a glass of water, helping her bring it to her lips.

"I somehow managed to look even worse," she jokes, reminiscing their earlier encounter.

"The paramedics have just arrived. They're going to take you to the hospital for a check-up," he says and she nods.

"Thank you, Carlos," she replies.

"I haven't done the half of what I would have wanted," he says, regret filling his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"This has to be the worst timing ever, But I... I actually wanted to ask you out, before Charles interrupted us and before, well... this," he says, gesturing around them.

He doesn't see it, but hidden under the blanket, she pinches her arm. Hard. Just to make sure she won't wake up a second time. Seeing that nothing changes, she lets out a little laugh.

"If you wanted me to wear that silky green dress, I'm so sorry, but I ruined it in the washer."

"You can wear a garbage bag for all I care," Carlos replies, looking at her fondly. "You'll still stand out in the crowd."

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #formula1 #f1 2024 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you

[ofallthingsnasty]

tw: yandere, kidnapping/basement spousery, depression, mentions of noncon, gn reader characters: Crocodile, Sanji, Doflamingo, Law word count: 1.3k

One thing I learned recently is that I'm definitely a social creature and would get horribly, horribly depressed as someone's basement wife, even a well entertained one. All the books, the crafts, the soft music in the world couldn't prevent me from sobbing into my pillows, couldn't get me to crawl out of bed and to paint a smile on my face. Oh, but how would your captor react? For some, it's definitely a necessary evil - Crocodile comes to mind here. Annoyed by your lethargy, by your random tears and your meek, taciturn responses, he finds himself frustrated at times. This state of mind really isn’t ideal - he wanted you docile, sure, but not lifeless. Yet it's also awfully convenient when you just let him push you around, let him caress and touch you - and not out of fear of him, simply because you don't care to struggle. He discovers that he can forgive a lot when you're especially shaken and cling to him, bury your head in his chest because he's the only human you'll ever know again and the world is so bleak around you and you just need him right now. Of course, it would be nicer if you didn't do it because he's the only warm-blooded creature that you interact with, but he'll take what he can get. (And with time, it weirdly grows on him: him turning into the center of your life, the way your eyes seem to light up the tiniest bit when he comes home to you, something he thought mildly annoying at first turning out to be awfully convenient.)

To others, it's devastating. Sanji lives for your smiles, your warmth, the way your eyes crinkle and you jut your head forward when you fully, genuinely laugh - total apathy is worse than antagonism to him. If you were to scream, shout, put your fingers around his neck and squeeze with the desperation of a cornered prey animal, he'd at least get a reaction, some signs of life out of you. But you don't even do that. You just sit and try to suppress tears while he holds your hand. Sometimes he just cries with you, letting himself fall into the same hole you're being pulled into. It makes him regret taking you so utterly, bitterly, makes him feel all those memories from when he was a child bubble up in his stomach until they force themselves out and he has to vomit to be rid of them. He’s just like his father, he thinks, and it makes him sick. He’s rotten down to the very core, cursed from birth and now he has gone and soiled you, too - he’ll end up sobbing into the crook of your neck more than once, full of genuine remorse. And all you’ll be able to do is absentmindedly pat his hair, thoughts spilling like an knocked over ink well. No, you slipping into a deeply depressive state is only going to worsen the hatred he has for himself, is going to poison him slowly and steadily until he’ll be in agony. Maybe it’s his just punishment.

Then there are the ones like Doflamingo who simply don’t care. You don’t crawl out of bed until noon? You just stare into space or bury yourself in books when you finally do? You’re just lifeless by his side, just blink, shrug your shoulders when spoken to, just exist? Whatever, he has always treated you like a doll from the start. He can even weather the elusive bouts of sobbing and crying (even if he hates it when they happen), because most of the time you’re just his poseable thing and he is nothing if not generous to allow you a tantrum here and there. He doesn't feel bad about you being a more of a hollowed out shell of a person than a fully-fledged human with a rich inner life and doesn't care that most of it is his fault - his fault that you fester and rot beneath the surface, his fault that all the opulent, vibrant clothing and the scorching hot days by the pool still leave you frosty and weirdly bloodless, like a cold-blooded creature in winter. Food is ash in your mouth and only sours your stomach but you still eat when he tells you to, touches feel foreign and loveless but you still let him fuck you if he so wishes. Why should he care what circles around in your head when he gets to do anything he wants to you? That you feel like life is no luster, only desperation? The truly bothersome parts are taken care of by his myriad of servants and the family. Messes left behind get cleaned up, baths are forced on you regularly, as are grooming sessions. If you don’t get dressed on your own either someone else will see to it or he will - and he’ll have his payment for his time, trust me. The solemn mood, the non-existent smiles… he doesn't care for that. You’re not here for your entertainment, you’re here for his. And you just accepting your fate and letting him do whatever it is he wants… That’s just perfect, isn’t it?

Of course, let’s not forget about the ones who secretly love it. Law is a prime example, especially with his medical background. He isn’t surprised that your mood sways - he expected as much when he restricted your every move, declared the outside world to be too unhealthy for you. Of course you’d slip into a depressive episode. And it’s not a flaw, it’s intentional. Because now - now, when you can’t peel yourself out of bed, when everything feels too much, when you can’t feed or move or dress or take care of yourself- he gets to swoop in. He gets to do it for you, gets to tell you that he’s here and that he’ll always catch you when you fall. That his assessment of your condition was accurate - that you always needed him, right from the start. Dependency is worth more than all the love in the world to him. It simply doesn’t matter if you’d rather slit his throat than to behave for him out of your own volition - as long as you can’t leave. Even if he genuinely loves you, he’s not deluded enough to cling to daydreams of him and you living a quiet, happy life full of reciprocated affection, that ship has long sailed - sailed ever since his childhood got irrevocably destroyed. No. Love is nice and good and makes him wash you gladly, makes him care for you with delicate hands and with a patient brow - but your sickness makes you stay, renders you unable to leave him. It’s the only currency he can trade in when it comes to you. He’s your savior and tormentor rolled into one person; but above all he is the only one who cares and will forever care. You could rot yourself into a pathetic, sweat-soaked, disgusting corner, could turn into nothing but a husk and he’d always, always nurse you out of the ditch he’s found you in, just at the right time.  What he doesn’t tell you is that he could help you. At least artificially. Boost your moods with SSRIs until you bounce off the walls with nervousness and sweat thrice as much; make you giddy and shaky until you get used to the dose. Until the world seems worth living in once more, until at least some color returns to your drab eyes. He could get you the medication, even try some speech therapy, could help you like a good boyfriend should. But why? It makes no sense. Why help you only to get some fire back, maybe even for you to slip through his fingers? It’s easier to sit in twosome silence with tired eyes watching him, eyes that one day might be grateful for all the work he has put into them. Until then, it’s of utmost importance that they stay right where they are: in a cramped, dirty corner of a bed, dull and lifeless.

#i hope you can see where i'm going with law's part? he's such a little creeper... but also deeply traumatized... ugh #idk i hope this was coherrent it has been rotting away in my brain for 3 weeks now #yandere one piece #trafalgar law x reader #sanji x reader #crocodile x reader #doflamingo x reader #tw.yandere #/crocodile #/sanji #/doflamingo #/law #/one piece

[yandere-romanticaa]

she walks in beauty.

🎀 Today is Diluc's birthday. However, instead of focusing on himself, he can't help but to fall into his usual lovesick trap of gentle obsession.

yandere! diluc ragnvidr x fem! reader.

Ever since he was a young lad, Diluc could recall every single banquet and celebration which was hosted by the Dawn Winery estate. He could still sense the smell of various colorful liquors and taste the endless sea of pastries and cakes which were served at such events, making the inner child in him smile.

However, Diluc was no longer a young child.

Ever since the passing of his father, the need to throw any grand banquets was thoroughly diminished. While yes, there were certain things he could not avoid due to societal expectations, he still made the decision to keep things to an absolute minimum.

His birthday was not one of them. At least, not by his choice.

Everyone and their mother knew what day it was today and Diluc lost count with how many birthday wishes and gifts he had received. He was a little touched with the plethora of people who wanted him nothing other than joy, but those same people quickly became a nuisance because he could not seem to be with the one he actually wanted to be with today.

And there stood Diluc, hidden in the shadowy hallway as he watched his beloved prepare for the upcoming festivities. With both his arms crossed and his left side pressed firmly against the dark wood doorframe, Diluc decided in that moment that there was nowhere else he'd rather be than here.

His red eyes watched you thoroughly like a hawk, making sure to remember the ravishing scenery before him.

As much as you disliked his gifts, you didn't have a choice but to accept them this evening. The gentle sapphire necklace hung around your neck perfectly, the fine silver glimmering gently beneath the flickering candle flames. Diluc's gaze quickly shifted to your arms as they toyed with the various strands of hair at the top of your head, carefully adjusting the matching pin he had gotten you not too long ago.

He felt his heart skip a beat once he caught a glimpse of the wedding ring on your finger, causing him to nearly lose his composure and blow his cover altogether. His own ring seemed to come alive as he felt it around his finger, seemingly pulsing with a firey need to just take you, to see the light in your eyes, to beg you to please forgive him-

Even now, he could still hear you weep, for each tear felt like a stab straight into his bleeding heart.

Please, don't lock me away, you pleaded.

"I will be with no one but you. I will give you everything you desire but please Diluc-

Do not keep me as a prisoner!"

He sighed as he fidgeted with his gloved fingers. Diluc hated himself for doing this to you, for making you so utterly miserable. He was the one who took you away, it was him who had stolen that precious smile away from you. If you had been a normal couple perhaps this evening could have been more bearable. Perhaps he could have even enjoyed it, with you by his side.

But that was not how things were going to play out.

Diluc was stuck in a Hell of his own making. Every single tear that you had shed and will shed - that was all on him. Money can buy a lot of things but your love was not one of them. A new surge of determination was born deep inside of Diluc on that night of his birthday and he finally knew what his wish was.

He wished to make amends. Perhaps he could learn to live without your love, even if the mere thought made his teeth shake in fury and heart cry out in blind sorrow.

But he needed you to know that you were loved. He needed you to know that he was going to keep you safe. He was going to love you until his very last breath and even then, he would wait for the day of your sweet forgiveness.

🥀 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @mayulli, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @saturnalya, @alatusprinz, @lakxcpsta, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149

Happy birthday to this wonderful man. He was my first ever husband in Genshin Impact, he deserves something extra sweet from yours truly.

#also! if anyone understood the title I'm giving you a motherfucking KISS! #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #genshin impact #yandere male #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #yandere diluc #genshin diluc #yandere diluc x reader #yandere diluc x you #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #genshin drabbles

[cameronspecial]

we all kmow drew loves to read and staying in, let’s make Dad!Drew staying in for the weekend and read to his 2 yo daughter and everything (hanging out, taking cute pics, doing her hair, play house) while reader going out with her friends and she felt a little guilty but he assured her that he loves spending time with their baby, so she should stop worrying.

Me And My Lady

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Suggestion of Sex At The End

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.7K

Masterlist

“You be Ken, Daddy, and I be Chelsea,” Elizabeth orders, handing her father the doll. Most kids are obsessed with the titular character of Barbibe; however, Drew’s daughter loves her Chelsea doll with a passion. He takes it without hesitation, “'Cause I'm just Ken, anywhere else I'd be a ten. Is it my destiny to live and die a life of blonde fragility?” The singing goes over his daughter’s head and she begins the dialogue of the game. He isn’t too sure what exactly is going on; only catching every other word. He does hear cheating and divorce though, so he makes a mental note to ask Y/N if she has been watching Real Housewives with their daughter again. 

Around half an hour later, the young girl complains about being hungry, so the two of them get to cook dinner. He watches as the small hand grips the spatula and waves it back and forward, spreading tomato sauce over the lasagna slices. She accidentally yanks the utensil upward, which causes a splash of red to land on her nose. Drew laughs and Elizabeth goes crossed eyes to try to see what he is laughing at. This makes him laugh even harder and she joins in on the cheery mood. He takes the phone out, letting her put some sauce on his nose and angling the camera at both of them. They make a funny face and he takes multiple pictures. After their small photo shoot, the two of them finish making the lasagna and eat up their reward for their effort. He checks the time to see that it is the little one’s bedtime soon. “It’s bath time,” he announces. Excitement crosses her face because she loves being in the water. He helps her out of the chair and chuckles when she rushes to the bathroom. “Come on, Daddy,” she beckons from the other room. He jogs after her to find her sorting through her toys already, trying to figure out which one she wants to play with. The one thing she hates about bathtime is the three toys limit. 

He steps over the toys and plugs the drain so the tub will fill when he turns the tap on. As the water begins to occupy the hollow porcelain, Drew turns to his daughter and opens the cabinet beside the bath. “Do you want bubbles and what bath bomb do you want?” he questions. She looks up from her toys and examines the choices, “Can I use one of Mommy’s?” The cabinet is filled with bubbles for both Y/N and Elizabeth, but the bath bombs are divided between the two of them. Elizabeth’s are colourful and shaped in different forms, such as cats, unicorns, or dogs, while Y/N’s are more focused on the scents so they are less colourful and just round. Knowing his wife wouldn’t mind sharing, he nods. “Bubbles, please, and that one,” she answers, pointing to the light pink bath bomb that smells of roses. Drew grabs both of the chosen items, “Those are fine choices, My Lady.” Elizabeth giggles at the funny accent he uses and accepts the round object he hands her, dropping it into the tub when he instructs her to. 

Once the bubbles are in and the water is at an appropriate height, he helps her undress and sets her into the tub. He hands her the duck, the mermaid, and the boat she chose to play with, accepting the mermaid she gave him. “And we can swim all night together,” she recounts. The duck slaps against the water under the grip of the daughter. The force produces a large splash that hits her father in the face. His face scrunches as the water makes contact and drips to his neck. “Hahaha,” she yells. Drew fakes an angry look, “Grrr. You think that’s funny, Little Lady?” He dips his hand in the water and flicks some at his daughter. Her giggles intensify and she tries to get away from the attack. The warmth soon leaves her, creating a shiver in her. Upon seeing this, the father grabs the ducky hood towel from the hook and takes her out of the tub. He wraps it around her and runs his hands up and down her arms to create some heat. The floor is soaked because of their playing, so he takes a second to dry it with the floor towel. 

With the floor clean, he carries her to her room and they get her changed into her pyjamas. He runs the towel over her hair to get out as much moisture as he can. He takes the brush she hands him and runs it through her hair to get rid of the knots created in the bath. “Do we want one braid or two?” he confirms. She hmms for a little, “Two Fwench braids, please.” He divides her hair into two and then separates one of the sections into three. He begins weaving the strands together like his wife taught him and sings with his daughter whilst she waits for him to finish. 

“There you go, My Lady. Why don’t you go choose a bedtime story?” he encourages, watching her run to her bookcase. She spends about a minute looking at her options before choosing a book he knows she is going to pick because it has been her choice for a few nights now. She patters back to him and he helps her onto her big girl bed. Her head rests against his shoulder. He pretends he doesn’t see her thumb in her mouth even though Y/N would kill him for not stopping it. He thumbs through the book to find where they stopped last night and clears his throat to start reading. “To be, or not to be, that is the question.” The English major side of him loves that his daughter likes to read Shakespeare. He is sure she doesn’t understand anything he reads, yet he knows she enjoys it because she is always so attentive and she’ll ask what certain words will mean. Drew looks past the inappropriate subject matter of Hamlet for the two-year-old because it feels like a bonding experience for him. It is one of the reasons why he isn’t angry at Y/N for watching Real Housewives with Elizabeth. 

Ten minutes later, he fills her head relax as it digs into his muscles. He closes the book and kisses her forehead. His hand raises the blanket to her chin, turning on the night light. “I love you, My Lady,” he whispers. 

———

Drew is reading through Othello because he thinks it is what he and Elizabeth should read after Hamlet. She’ll like the witches’ scene. He hears the front door open and close. He shuts the book, placing it on the side table as his wife walks through the bedroom door. “Hey, did she go down to sleep okay?” she mumbles. Her back is facing him whilst she takes off her jewellery and places them on her vanity. His head bobs and he gets behind her. He hands her a makeup wipe, resting his chin on her shoulder. He observes her nighttime routine through the mirror. His lips press against her skin, “Yep, everything went by smoothly. We are almost done with Act Three for Hamlet. I’m thinking about reading Othello with her next. How was the club?” She hesitates about answering. Y/N honestly had an amazing time tonight. It felt so great not having to worry about another human being for an evening. She loves Elizabeth, except being a mom can create a lot of pressure. Even though the night was a success, guilt overcomes her when she meets her husband’s eyes in the mirror. Drew hasn’t gone out at night with friends since he got back from work and she has been out three times. “It was fine,” she plays off, wiping her makeup off with the wipes he provided for her.

His brow arches at her tone, “Really, only fine? I saw Layton’s story. You looked like you were having a blast.” Her eyes fall to the vanity. “It must have been a trick of the light,” she shrugs. She goes for another wipe, except veiny hands stop her. He takes her hand in his and spins her so they face each other. Warm hands cup her cheek. “What’s wrong, My Queen? Why so glum?” he worries, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. 

Her breath tickles his skin as she exhales, “Do you hate that I make you stay at home with Elizabeth when I go out?” His head shakes like an earthquake and he brings her in for a hug. He can feel the guilt oozing out of her. “No, of course not. I love Elizabeth. Why would I hate it?”

“I’m not saying that you hate her. I just wonder if you resent me for going out with the girls, which means you have sole parent duties for a night. You haven’t had a night out since she was born. I mean you go out, but never by yourself so that I have sole parent duties.” 

“You have sole duties when I work.”

“That’s different though. Just because you love your job doesn’t mean it is a personal outing for pleasure.”

“True.” 

She looks back at him with a pout, his last words intensifying her emotions. “Please don’t feel bad about this. I may not go out anymore, but I never used to go out that much before anyways, right?” he reminds her. She thinks about it, realizing that it is true. Whenever he went out, it was always with her by his side. She meets his gaze, “You are saying that to make me feel better.” His head moves from side to side. “No. I love having nights with me and My Lady. I mean they are perfect when it is me, My Lady, and My Queen, but if I can give you a much-needed break, then I am more than happy to help you with that. If anything, Elizabeth is my excuse to stay in.” A grin starts to grow on his face when he sees the tips of her lips flip upwards. “Well, I’m glad I made you the perfect excuse,” she jokes. His laugh joins her lightened mood, “You made me the best excuse. Maybe we should start working on another one. You know, to solidify our excuse.” His eyebrows waggle and she pulls him into a kiss with a smirk. Their giggles mix in the air as he locks their bedroom door and she flops onto their bed. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

#dad!drew #dad!drew starkey #drew starkey #drew #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x female reader

[owlcomics101]

Task force 141 x pet Snake!Reader (Platonic obviously) head cannons

Warnings: Snake? SFW (I am a minor), wholesome snake shenanigans!

Context: Soap found you, a snake out side of base wedged in between some Rocks, he found you and took you in. He kept you as a secret until the others found out. Good luck snakey Reader! 🐍

Soap: Soap is obsessed with you! He holds you whenever he can and strokes your lovely scales which is surprisingly soft for a snake. Your tail coils around his fingers as he pets you and gives you kisses on the head and randomly vents to you while feeding you a mouse and all you can think is “Just drop the Damm mouse!” As your mouth waters watching it squirm and dangle out of Soap’s hands. You always gets lost around base because Soap keeps letting you out of your cage and losing you. Running around like an idiot calling you by your nickname he gave you “Teet.” which is the Scottish word for snake. And yes, he cuddles you when he sleeps, only to find you trying to eat his finger again in the morning.

Ghost: Ghost wanted to hate you. He really did, but couldn’t. When no one was looking he would pick you up out of your cage and give you some affection. “People both see us as monsters huh?” He would whisper to you. “They just don’t know us yet. But we’ll show them. Won’t we?” You always gave him kisses on his nose and he loved it. He would take off his mask when it was just him and you and let you slither around the holes the mask and even sleep in it. He finds your yawn to be the cutest Damm thing in the world. Whenever he’s out on a mission his brings you back a rock or some decoration for your cage as a gift for you. Ghost likes to call you ‘fang’.

Gaz: Gaz was….freaked out by you to say the least at first but he was quick to grow a soft spot to you too. Gaz lets you hang out on his head or in his hat as he works. Keeping a careful watch on you and making sure your not getting into any mischief, because Soap and ghost would kill him and anything happens to precious you. Unlike the others, Gaz actually takes the time to research on how to take better care about because since your gonna live with them rent free, mind as well live comfortably.

Price: Was against you as first…butttttttt he couldn’t escape your charm! Price was the one mostly taking care of you, feeding you, giving you clean water, and cleaning your cage. He didn’t let anyone clean your cage but him. He says it must be ‘perfect’ or done his way. Whatever that means. But you didn’t care, you were busy trying to eat Price’s fingers. Price likes it have you in his office while he works. Chucking to himself as he watches you slither around on his desk and laptop. You were the only thing making work at least tolerable for him. And yes… he likes to put a bow on your head and give you sweaters during the cold months because he doesn’t want you to freeze.

#cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #captain price x reader #captain john price #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #Snake #sfw

[marragurl]

I have this VISCERAL need for an AU where everyone’s perception of Ratiorine is completely skewed and they all think they hate each other when in reality they’re actually married.

They had a small ceremony years ago, fully live together, have matching pajama sets, cutely bicker and have inside jokes with each other, constantly use endearments when referring to one another in public, have a combined 20 step hygiene routine, are each other’s first choice if there’s a mission that require 2 people, AND NO ONE BELIEVES THEY’RE MARRIED! OR EVEN IN A RELATIONSHIP!

AVENTURINE EVEN SIGNS HIMSELF AS AVENTURINE RATIO ON INVITES OR LETTERS OR PAPERWORK (Kakavasha Ratio on their marriage certificate, I like to think in this AU they’ve worked through their past trauma together already), BUT EVERYONE THINKS IT’S A TYPO AND HE MEANT TO WRITE THEM SEPARATELY SINCE THEY’RE ALWAYS ASSIGNED ON MISSIONS TOGETHER.

The only people who know are the Stonehearts, and that’s only due to Aventurine’s contract/work as IPC, so they were the ones who officiated/were witnesses to the wedding.

Everytime they all go out to get a drink or something, I need Topaz in the back looking insufferable as Ratiorine are in full lovey-dovey mode AND NO ONE NOTICES. I’d be the same girl, they could broadcast their honeymoon and STILL people would think it’s some weird powerplay hate thing, Topaz is later found crying to Jade about how she finally understands why Ratio calls everyone idiots, how are people so blind?! They’ve even started using the same motions and same phrases Jade, WHY CAN NO ONE ELSE SEE IT???

The only reason the Penacony plan goes off without a hitch is that everyone has the biggest preconceived notion that Aventurine and Raio despise each other WHEN IT’S JUST THEIR USUAL MARRIED BICKERING. NO ONE CAN EVEN FATHOM THE TWO OF THEM LIKING EACH OTHER, LET ALONE MARRIED???

(In this AU, Aventurine gives up his room because the Reverie made the same mistake of not understanding the signature and assigned him and Ratio to different rooms, and now there’s a nice clean way of getting rid of the extra room, making a connection with the Astral Express, AND rooming with his dear husband, what great luck!)

I want it to get to a point where they could fully make out in front of Sunday and the man would STILL believe that Ratio would betray Aventurine. Aventurine during the entire interrogation scene is just constantly in the state of “my husband is such a good actor, I’m so proud of him” *heart eyes and winks to Ratio when Sunday isn’t looking* and Ratio is just straight up looking worried for Aventurine and immediately rushes after him when it’s all over AND NO ONE BATS AN EYE

Ratio just mentally apologizing to Aventurine after every little fake fight they have and dying on the inside and doubling down on every bit of affection he can in between (and even during) the fights, and Aventurine is just having fun having his husband’s attention all to himself no matter the form. (plus the rush of knowing just how much they trust each other always makes him warm)

Aventurine is fully ok with this weird perception people have of him and his husband since it always helps with his schemes and gambles paying off, and while Ratio wants to bash everyone in the head for even daring to think he hates his husband, he keeps quiet because he trusts that Aventurine will always come back to him and make it all work.

But that’s not enough to stop him with showering Aventurine with adoration and love in public. If the public are too much of idiots to realize something as obvious as their love, Ratio won’t stop it from showing his dear husband just how much he means to him.

This is fully AU of course, we all know canon Ratiorine is the longest softest pining game in history. Funny enough, Topaz is still suffering in the back due to their relationship shenanigans. She better be getting some financial compensation for this, I just know Aventurine complains to her about his crush. Ratio is fully at his own place writing out thesis after thesis about the meaning of love and psychoanalyzing his own feelings. He forwards them to Topaz for review because I like to think she’s somehow become a weird bouncing board for his frustrations about her coworker. Topaz is crying.

#honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #hsr #ratio hsr #dr ratio #dr ratio honkai star rail #ratiorine #aventio #idk what else to put here #I just #we keep getting so much ratiorine food #I’m drowning in them #I can’t-

[melbatron5000]

Heartache

Since I put up my theories that Crowley and Aziraphale faked the break up in the Final Fifteen, I've had a LOT of people comment, "Then why are they so sad?"

LISTEN.

Imagine you and the person you love most in the world have to keep your relationship secret. Because no one would approve of it, and one or the other of you could be hurt or killed or imprisoned over it. So you keep it casual, and have to pretend you're not even friends.

Then you get a chance to change everything. You get a chance to save the world, and maybe have that relationship you both want so badly together. You even plan your proposal. You throw a big party and make it as romantic as you know how.

Then your party gets crashed by people who hate you.

And then an authority -- one that has the power to make both your lives horrible and maybe end them -- comes sniffing around. He's figured out you're up to something, and that you've teamed up, and been teamed up for a while. He maybe suspects you're more than friends, when even friends is something you are not allowed to be. He essentially black mails you into coming back with him, to what essentially amounts to prison, though he offers that your love can come with you. You'll both be in prison, and maybe not be able to save the world, but you'll be together, and safe.

You tell the person you love most in the world what's going on, that your plan has been uncovered, and beg him to come with so he will be safe. And your beloved says, "No, I'm not going, I want to fight for this. I want to fight for you, and for us. I want to save the world. We need to pretend to break up so I can keep working on our plan. You do what you can from inside prison, and I'll do my best from here, and let's try for this. For us." And then he breaks your heart and forces you to reject him. While your enemy watches and waits to take you to prison. And he doesn't let you leave without kissing you first. He gives you something while he kisses you that he hopes will help you. And then he goes.

Imagine your beloved tells you an authority has come sniffing around -- he suspects you're up to something and wants to haul you both to prison. Your beloved has no choice, he absolutely is going to prison, right now, but he wants you to come with him. You want to fight, you want to be free with your beloved and you want to save the world. So you tell him you have to fake a break up in order that one of you can stay free and hopefully make it work. And then you break his heart, and force him to reject you, while your enemy watches and waits to take him to prison. And you do not let him leave without kissing him first. You give him something while you kiss him that you hope will help him. And then you leave.

If you could do that while feeling nothing, totally confident that you're still a couple and everything is actually fine, you've got a different head than me. I wouldn't be okay, watching my husband get taken to prison for the crime of being in love with me. I certainly wouldn't be okay pretending not to care, or like we never meant much to each other after all.

The break up is fake. That doesn't mean any of those emotions are.

It actually makes it worse, in my opinion.

If Aziraphale had actually chosen Heaven over Crowley, Aziraphale would be sad, but not miserable. But he hasn't. He's going to prison without the one person he most wants to protect and be with. And he has no guarantee that Crowley will be safe, or that they will ever see each other again. He must be devastated.

If Aziraphale had chosen Heaven over Crowley, Crowley would have every right to be hurt and angry. But Aziraphale hasn't. He's being dragged to prison, where Crowley can't be with him and make sure he's okay, where Crowley knows he'll be treated badly, and Crowley's going to try to save the world, and if he succeeds, they can build that life together they've wanted for so long; but if he fails, they may never see each other again. He must be devastated.

Stop asking why they both look so sad if the break up is fake.

They are devastated.

#good omens #good omens 2 #crowley #aziraphale #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens analysis #good omens fan theory #the final fifteen #ineffable divorce #final fifteen #our poor husbands #it's so much more sad than it first seems

[weirdkpopgirl]

All I Need | Renjun Imagine #6

Title: All I Need

Genre: Fluff, kinda angsty

Warnings: mentions of mental health, vague mentions of anxiety, a little suggestive, making out

Word Count: 531

Author's Note: This was a request from an anon, and technically my request box is closed. However, I thought the idea they gave was cute and thought it wouldn't hurt to write a little something for Renjun. I feel like I don't write enough stories where the reader is comforting the member, rather than vice versa. And I know Renjun won't see this (thank God), but I truly believe he deserves the world and I sincerely hope he's getting the rest he needs for his physical and mental health. I hope those who are also struggling are taking care of themselves too. Thank you for reading ^ ^

P.S. I have quite a few things I'm working on writing-wise so please look forward to my future works!

𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪

When you noticed Renjun’s declining mental health and encouraged him to take a break, you didn’t think he’d actually listen to your advice. You were aware of the concerns and disheartenment that came after the company’s announcement about him not participating in upcoming activities. Despite your boyfriend’s evident disappointment over not performing with his members, you were grateful for his decision to prioritize his well-being.

Shortly after the announcement was made, you headed over to his dorm in hopes of lifting his spirits. When a physically and emotionally exhausted Renjun opened the door to you holding a Moomin plushie and a grocery bag of ingredients for hot pot, he never felt more loved. Not a second was wasted before he was pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Thank you for being here with me,” he murmured, prompting a small smile to grace your lips.

Returning his hug, you rested your chin on his shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

For the first time in a while, the two of you enjoyed a quiet evening where you ate good food and caught up on your lives. After dinner, Renjun pulled you into his room for some much-needed cuddles. Nestled in his bed, you let him be the small spoon as he shared what had been troubling him lately.

“I wish I could take all your pain away,” you said quietly, subconsciously tracing the contours of his face.

The boy’s eyes glimmered with appreciation, and he relaxed under your touch. “Even if you could, I wouldn’t let you.”

Your lips parted to rebut his words but were stopped by a warm pair of lips pressing against yours. With widened eyes, you saw Renjun’s endearing expression after he pulled away. 

“You’re all I need,” he whispered, before leaning in once more.

Admittedly, you thought the second kiss would be the last for the night. But Renjun didn’t stop this time, catching you a little off guard. Even though after a year of dating, intimacy had not been extensively explored in your relationship. Mainly because the both of you had boundaries and wanted to respect them, but this…this kiss that seemed to stretch on and on, and you didn’t hate it.

His lips moved slowly against yours, as his fingers traced feather-light patterns along your jawline. With gentle pressure, he tilted your chin upward for a better angle to deepen the kiss. Eventually, you stopped letting your thoughts distract you and gradually allowed yourself to surrender to the moment. Your hands found their way to his back, pulling him closer as you kissed back in hopes of conveying all the comfort you wanted to give him. 

It was enticing, losing yourself in this shared intimacy. Then when you finally parted for air, you noticed the glisten of tears in Renjun’s eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, “so very much.”

You smiled, feeling your eyes get glossy as well. “I love you too, Jun.”

He embraced you once more, holding you closer than ever. It was at this moment when you silently promised to stay by Renjun’s side forever. 

If you were all he needed, then you were willing to give everything.

𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪

previous masterlist -> current masterlist

#nct dream #nctzen #kpop #czennie #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #nct dream scenarios #huang renjun #renjun x reader #renjun imagines #nct #renjun scenarios #renjun fluff #nct dream angst #renjunnie #injun

[yenonnoff]

TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! 22. 2 people, 1 truth

note: word count is 3.8k :D

“they really are little rascals, especially this one!” atsumu huffed with an orange kitten pressed against his chest. you found him near an alleyway and were currently walking back to april’s store. 

it was a convenience store, and she used the second floor as her living space. after you were banned from eating the snacks at your parents’ place, you started hanging out at april’s more often. she always gave you the snacks for free and you spent most of your childhood there: in april’s store next to her floor fan as customers came and went. 

“you’re back!” april rushed out in a hurry, reaching to pet the kitten still in your arms. “their mom’s in the back with the other younglings so i’ll need to wash them. but before that, tell me how i can repay the two of you.” 

you rushed to decline. “no, no. don’t worry about it, we did this because we just wanted to help.” 

april laughed heartily. “then thank you, darling, for helping me find the kittens.” she smiled towards atsumu, “and thank you… y/n’s boyfriend. looks like i never got your name!” she erupted again in buoyant laughter. 

your co-star returned her smile. “it’s atsumu miya, nice to meet you.” his response garnered an elbow to the side from you. “he’s not my boyfriend, just a coworker,” you clarified quickly.

her excitement didn’t fade, a sly twinkle shining in her aged eyes. she grabbed the kittens from you and atsumu, the two troublemakers tugging insistently at her floral blouse. “we’ll continue this later, they’re really impatient aren’t they?” 

when april left, you and atsumu occupied the bench in front of the store. he stretched and yawned. “what were you saying about your parents before you got cut off?” he asked curiously. 

“oh, my parents aren’t here anymore. we moved to miyagi prefecture when i got to high school, and they stayed there after i moved to tokyo for university.” 

“must’ve been hard when their only child left,” he said, lifting a brow when you laughed. “not at all,” you replied. “i was a handful to them, they were glad i left.” 

growing up, a part of you resented your parents for moving away from your hometown. you dreamt of everything: attending a nearby high school and keeping up with your studies—going home and helping the residents with their tasks around town. it was the perfect harmony, and it was shattered due to your parents. 

you realized later it was because they hated everything the town stood for: peace, gaiety, and the ability to melt your heart. they must’ve hated the cool summers too—the long family walks through town after supper where you admired wildflowers in the sidewalk cracks. they must’ve hated the colorful peonies in the spring and the lively tradition where all the residents came together to have one big picnic in the field. you still remembered it so vividly. each household needed to bring something special (music, toys for the kids, food, or drinks) to be able to participate. once, your parents said you were their special item and the residents exploded in cheerful laughter and agreement. looking back, you wondered how true that actually was of your parents. 

they were bored of the place they grew up in, and they tossed it away without even asking you. they threw their friends away, the memories they made with everyone, and—worse of all—they desecrated your love for the town and its people. 

you’d cried during departure, watching as everyone bore smiling faces in an attempt to uplift yours. you hadn’t cried in years, and you were about to attend high school. you saw them hand you gifts—all the things you loved and things that’ll remind you of your true home. you hoped they knew you weren’t the one who wanted to leave; you hoped they knew it was because your parents hated their kind generosity. 

“i hated leaving my hometown behind. if i could, i would’ve stayed with them while my parents left. i would’ve been okay without them. but when i got to my new school, things started to get better,” you said, fidgeting with the palm of your hand. “i excelled at my classes and made new friends. they filled an empty part in me and i was able to be with them 24/7 through volleyball.” you paused for a moment. “but my parents didn’t like that. they didn’t like it when i went to my team’s matches to support them, they didn’t like that i was barely home with them.”

atsumu remained silent while you talked. his back was pressed against the wall and his shoulder was touching yours. his silence comforted you, his warmth made you continue. “i think they realized it was out of their control now, that when i went off to university, they wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore. i saved up money from my part-time job and moved to tokyo with my friends. my parents stopped calling me afterwards, but i still send money back home to them.” 

you choked back a sob, chuckling at the weird situation: you pouring your feelings out to your attentive co-star. you avoided looking at him.

“what about your aunt april? couldn’t you have stayed with her?” 

you laughed quietly. “she’s not my real aunt, her husband isn’t my real uncle either. they just treated me really nicely, like i was a part of their family. actually, they were my parents’ rivals. the town only needed one convenience store and i guess my parents were the ones who left. maybe they didn’t like how welcoming aunt april treated me, but i knew she never wanted us to leave. and i never wanted to be seen as a burden to them. they already had so much on their plate, i just couldn’t invade their lives like that.” 

atsumu hummed. “but if you had asked, they would’ve accepted in a heartbeat.” you smiled sadly—what he said was true. 

you couldn’t help but imagine what your life would’ve been like if you’d stayed. you would’ve been happy, you would’ve continued to stay in your hometown after graduation, maybe even become a farmer. you would’ve been surrounded by people who loved you and familiar sights. but you would’ve never met shimizu and the others. you would’ve never realized the wonders of living in a big city filled with opportunities. you wouldn’t be acting. you wouldn’t have met atsumu and experienced all of this. 

when you realized that silence took over the conversation, you attempted a weak smile. “well! enough of me—”

“you don’t have to hide it, y/n,” atsumu said. “you can be unprofessional too.” 

your heart staggered. hot tears threatened to fall and you only said, “it’s okay, i don’t want to talk about it right now.” 

atsumu nodded at your response, sitting up more casually. you were grateful when he started talking: “it’ll be unfair if i didn’t tell you about myself too, right?” he stopped briefly to think. “my brother and i were adamant about volleyball during high school. awards, summer camps, interhigh, nationals—you name it. being recognized for your incredible setting skills had its perks,” he winked and you laughed. “i got some modeling gigs and then eventually went into acting.”

you listened intently to him as he spoke. there was always something about atsumu. was it his assertiveness or the way he naturally drew people in? you had a feeling it was both. the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to know about him. 

“the first time i scored a big role, i was confused by how happy i felt. i remembered the amount of compliments they gave me, not only for my acting skills but for volleyball as well. ‘a real talent,’ they’d told me once, and it made me want to continue acting. i struggled here and there with getting roles, mainly due to my inexperience, but it was a challenge i wanted to overcome. i felt the same amount of frustration when messing up a scene as passing a bad set. i felt the same amount of joy too, so it was difficult to decide which path i wanted to take after high school.” 

you asked when he became silent, “how did your parents react?” 

he didn’t turn to look at you but you saw his lips pulled into a grim smile. “horrible,” he said. “‘samu wanted to pursue culinary arts and i wanted to focus on acting. my parents knew i had some roles during high school but they didn’t like that i wanted to do it professionally. my mom was clinging onto the chance that i would continue volleyball unlike my brother.” atsumu tightened his hands, his expression hard and dour. “but they didn’t realize that i was still playing, just not competitively. i didn’t compromise my love for it, never did.” 

you felt a strange pull of admiration. you could hate atsumu all you want for his actions, but you could never hate the confidence he radiated. you’ve seen it before: at the script read through and on the first day of filming. when he stepped on set, reading his lines with such certainty and zeal, your eyes didn’t want to look away. so this was atsumu miya, you thought. this was the highly praised atsumu—the side he proudly chose to display. 

but right now, he was just atsumu, regular atsumu. he was another person that goes through things like everyone else. you had believed vehemently before that your co-star was only capable of hate and disdain. that he could only conjure up sly, distasteful frowns. now he was more human than you thought. 

“i’m sorry,” was all you could say in response. atsumu shook his head, his eyes downcasted. “it got better eventually, it’s been a couple years and they’ve come around.” 

he continued: “it took a lot to convince them and myself that it was the right choice. i didn’t land any major roles for a year straight.” 

you blinked. who wouldn’t want atsumu on their production? even if this happened years ago, atsumu already had a couple major roles under his belt. you had a feeling it wasn’t him or his skills that were at fault. 

“a fucking year straight,” he spat his words venomously. “i practiced everyday until my body gave up, and for what? some rich insecure pieces of shit to come by and flaunt their money in the director’s face? i didn’t want anything to stop me from acting except my skills.” 

you imagined atsumu practicing his lines over and over again until he was satisfied. you saw him beating himself up for every mistake he would make. to atsumu, it must’ve felt like preparing for a volleyball match: setting and serving until he could no longer—until his exhausted body begged him to stop. it felt vivid to you. after all, you were both hardworking perfectionists, and you were both treading through an industry where the rich reigned and the skilled surrendered. 

for a year straight, atsumu dealt with this. he couldn’t do anything, powerless to change the directors’ decisions.

you stared at him with a pained expression. “bribery,” you said meekly and he nodded. “just like what emma did.”

“so you knew,” he said, low and accepting. 

“yes, i did, about her bribing director sage. but i want to hear it from you, not from a friend or anywhere else.” 

he nodded and you braced yourself for what was about to come. “i didn’t know at first, no one did except for the director and committee team. you wouldn’t have expected her to do something like that: she was nice and endearing, even to the staff members. but i always questioned why director sage was so hard on her. it wasn’t as if she lacked talent. she was good—well, good enough, i suppose. then i realized what it was about her. she had talent but not skills from experience. whenever filming lasted longer than it should’ve due to her, everyone was forgiving. they ignored her issues because she was nice and pretty.”

you swallowed at his words. with money, you could buy opportunities, but not skills and experience that are on par with actors who’ve been doing this for way longer. you couldn’t, unless you knew how to adapt—unless you were a quick learner. emma was none of those things. 

you watched atsumu rub his hands against his face, a sorrowful chuckle leaving his lips. “there were signs and i was blind to them. i only focused on her, thinking how amazing she was. she only had two years of experience so her mistakes were understandable. but this was a director sage film. his standards were fucking crazy. how did she land the main role if not for bribery and blackmail?” 

you had to confess, after returning from the trip to the record store slash beach, you finally watched director sage’s latest film. it aired two years ago but was one of his most popular works ever. emma had the main role but surprisingly, atsumu was only the second lead. he didn’t have much screen time but whenever he appeared in a scene with emma, you felt your heart stop, your breath hitching in your throat. their chemistry was otherworldly, and you understood why the whole internet went into chaos when they broke up. if you had watched this two years ago, you would’ve rooted for them too. 

“oh, but,” he quickly turned towards you, saying softly, “don’t blame director sage too much. it was his choice to make, but there were devastating circumstances. if he didn’t accept emma’s bribe, there would’ve been no film. her father would’ve cut off all the budget, including the ones from other companies. a single word from him would’ve cost director sage his career.” atsumu’s eyes turned dark and discernible. “i’m not saying his choice was right. emma forcibly stole opportunities from other aspiring actors and director sage helped her to do so. but still… he was in a difficult situation.” 

there was affection in his voice when he said the last sentence. you’ve seen them interact many times before, and it always occurred to you how easily atsumu laughed and smiled in the director’s presence. they both adored one another dearly, both having fond memories of working together years ago. 

“don’t worry, i don’t,” you reassured him. “but when i came, you thought i also blackmailed him. you thought director sage was put in another difficult situation.” you weren’t angry at him, you only stated frankly what had happened. but the latter pained atsumu more than the former. he wished you would yell at him or be in a fit of rage again (like your confrontation at the beach) because he knew he was wrong. he messed up and you were the one that was hurt. 

but you didn’t fault him, not after hearing about everything. atsumu was distrusting, both towards you and the acting industry. how could he not? the person he was in love with had betrayed her morals and his trust. 

“you’re right,” he said. “i was too quick to blame you. i judged you without knowing anything and spoke about you badly when i wasn’t any better. you were none of the things i claimed you were. you’re incredible, you know that? you made those four idiots fall in love with you on the first day of filming. you made director sage fall in with you. and you reminded me what good acting was. it was exhilarating to see someone with the same amount of passion as me. i fell in love with acting again just by watching you act.”

your cheeks burned at his words. you’ve received compliments before but it was different when your unapproachable and grumpy co-star said it. 

atsumu shifted to face you, both of your feet pointing in each other’s directions. “so i’m sorry, y/n. i’m sorry for dragging you into this, you were never the problem. what those staff members said were true: i am extremely cocky and pretentious, i’m hasty and reckless with both my actions and words. and i had hurt you greatly. could you forgive me?” 

you felt his vulnerability, his hesitant gaze on you. it wasn’t his fault, you wanted to say. it was okay. 

“i could, and i will. you’re forgiven, atsumu.” you waited another moment to say, “not everything the staff members said was true. you’re not undeserving of your role or fame.” 

“did they say that too?” 

you nodded and his eyebrows pinched together. “they said that because of my relationship with emma. after the film aired, everyone in the industry knew. some felt stronger about it than others; some could care less because it was so normalized; and some even praised her for being rich and having connections. it’s gross. if you don’t have the skills to earn your roles fairly through auditioning, you’re pathetic. instead of using that money to drag the director and your co-stars down, you should be spending it on acting classes.” 

you had to tug on his arm to get his attention. you didn’t mind his rant, but you were too curious about what that had to do with him being labeled “undeserving.” 

atsumu caught your eye and said, “oh, right. emma and i broke up a year after the film. we didn’t tell anyone what the reason was, but the bribery part was only half the story. those staff members were the same ones i worked with all those years ago. they saw how emma and i were—probably thought i was the same blackmailing fox as her.” he let out another low chuckle. “or maybe that i used my connection with director sage to my advantage. or that i already had my chance to work with him, and that another person should’ve gotten the opportunity.”

in your eyes, atsumu was never undeserving. director sage picked him for the lead role because he truly believed atsumu was worthy of it. you’d heard from kuroo that atsumu came out of his year-long break because of director sage. he just wanted to work with his favorite director again. atsumu had the confidence and skills to do so. what was so wrong about that? 

you patted him on the shoulder. “it’s not true, everyone knows it’s not. don’t be so hard on yourself.” your words made him laugh. a genuine one this time, it wasn’t sorrowful or somber like the previous ones. 

“thank you,” he said. “i’ll take it easy. i didn't think this trip would become so sentimental. did i bore you?” he asked mischievously. you shook your head no, the two of you exchanging pleasant smiles. 

you stretched your arms. how long were the two of you sitting on the wooden bench anyway? the sun was disappearing and leaving behind a trail of vibrant vermillion in its wake. it was already five o’clock. 

when the two of you peeked inside the convenience store, you saw april talking with her husband by the cash register. she noticed you two, turning to say, “there they are! did you have fun out there?”

apparently she had finished washing the kittens a long time ago, even having enough time to prepare dinner. a large dinner, enough to feed an army. “we didn’t want to interrupt the sweet moment so we waited,” april beamed while you, atsumu, and her husband followed behind on the staircase. 

atsumu whispered to you, “should i be here?” 

you nodded. after all, april’s homemade meals were the best. no amount of restaurants could compare, you knew he would be missing out if he didn’t give it a try. 

thankfully, dinner wasn’t awkward. april’s husband got along well with your co-star, minus the first interaction when he’d mistaken him for your boyfriend. it was becoming a running joke but you didn’t mind. you finally had the chance to sit down and talk to april and her husband, reminiscing about what happened during the time when you didn’t visit. you mentioned your previous film—vengeance—and the two of them chatted about your amazing performance. apparently everyone in town stopped what they were doing to watch it the day it aired. they were your first ever supporters after all. 

you also mentioned your friends, to which april smiled in relief. then you talked about your new film and gestured towards atsumu, your co-star who was caught off guard with food stuffed in his mouth. you left out all the bad parts in your story, focusing mainly on your “friendly” competition at the amusement park and the fun trip to the record store slash beach. you also mentioned jolie and the others, even director sage and how he looked better in person. 

atsumu got to talk too: about his twin brother and their volleyball experience during high school. atsumu boasted about being the number one setter and april’s husband, who you’ve known since childhood, brought up unexpectedly about how he’d played once as well. 

“captain of my team,” he laughed with his whole body. “that was my prime.”

it got to the point where all the dirty dishes were cleaned off the table and april brought out peeled tangerines. you got to play with the kittens while atsumu and april’s husband continued to converse about volleyball. it was endearing and bittersweet that the two of you had to leave. you wanted to freeze the moment—you’d forgotten how nice it felt to be back in your hometown. 

“must you go already?” april asked, standing at the door of her convenience store. her husband chimed in, “if they don’t catch the train, they’ll be stuck here.” 

she nudged him with an annoyed expression. “that’s what i’m trying to do.” she turned back towards you. “the whole town’s excited for your new film, y/n. we’ll definitely watch it so make sure to visit again. you as well, atsumu.” 

the two of you thanked them for dinner, saying your farewells and heading to the train station. 

“thank you for bringing me here,” atsumu said as you waited on the platform. 

“did i one up you? be honest.” 

he replied hesitantly, “yes. i have to admit your hometown is pretty nice.” 

“then let me borrow your jacket again on the train.” 

“oh? you’re finally gonna go to sleep?”

your eyes widened in embarrassment. “you knew?” he smirked at your dazed expression. “how could i not? kind of hard when you were wriggling in your seat trying to get comfortable.” 

“i will fall asleep this time. today’s been really exhausting.” 

atsumu peered down at you, saying, “good work today, y/n, and…”

he didn’t get to finish his sentence, interrupted by the roaring of the approaching train. you stepped inside, turning to ask, “what did you say?” 

“nevermind,” he smiled. “let’s get to our seats before we both fall asleep standing up.” 

atsumu had told you many things today, but the unspoken ones might’ve been the most important. he wanted to tell you again that he was sorry for everything. and he wanted to tell you that he was glad you were his co-star.

masterlist ⌒☆ previous ⌒☆ next

fun facts:

director sage did NOT like working with emma one bit, but he made sure to hide his disdain at all times.

when atsumu went to audition for director sage's previous film, he went with a friend of his. she practiced for the main role relentlessly but her audition didn't pass. atsumu always held a grudge towards emma for stealing his friend's chance; if it weren't for her, his friend would've gotten the role. she was a better actress than emma anyway.

y/n and atsumu took a million pictures of the kittens. there were five of them! she sent them all to the group chat for them to gawk at.

TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! ｡ｏ♡ an atsumu miya smau

synopsis: when y/n l/n, a rising actress, decides to star in a romance film that could make or break her career, she’s unable to showcase her skills, revealing her inexperience within the romance department instead. worst of all, atsumu miya, her co-star and the main lead’s love interest, seems to hate her guts! with absolutely, unbearably zero chemistry between the two, an idea was proposed: spend time with one another in the upcoming weeks. will y/n be able to ignore her professionalism and listen to her heart? and will she, a clueless romantic, be able to pick up on the signs her co-star is sending her?

a/n: FINALYL FINISHED UGHHH I SWEAR THIS TOOK AN ETERNITY hoped u liked y/n and atsumu's backstories + his very heartfelt apology + emma being a very bad person

taglist is open! dm or ask to be a part of it! (those bolded were unable to be tagged)

⌒☆ @kqbukimono @empathum @clyver @chosoluv @oceansfloor @sunarots @marga-j @rukia-uchiha-98 @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @rintarousgirl @ast4rg1rl @seiamor @saiewithakatana @usermins @literally-a-ferret @terrarain @iuspired @haruskatana @wolffmaiden @ris-krispie @vellichxrr6782 @animenaces-world @reignsaway @emii4evr @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @yuminako @tojirin @v3nusplanetofluv @vyvixen @secondary-character-25 @tenjikusstuff4 @444choso @mylahrins @deimmortales99 @hisfuture @staywhelmed8801 @dl-yum @nessaasstuff @milesmoralesluvs @101tsumu @ryeyeyer @cherrypieyourface

#haikyuu smau series #smaus #social media au #haikyuu smau #haikyuu #hq smau #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x yn #hq x reader #hq x you #hq x yn #haikyuu atsumu miya #atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya x you #atsumu miya x yn #atsumu miya smau #actors au #celebrity au #romance

[stephaniebrownslover]

Hİİİİ YET ANOTHER ANON

Can I ask about Creepypasta ages headcanons in your main AU??

THANK YOU FROM NOW <333

HIIIIIIII NEW ANON, YOU'RE SO SWEET<3333

Okay thank you so much for asking, you guys are literally spoiling me, like I'm having a little heart attack whenever someone asks me something.

I don't want this post just be numbers so I'll give a random fact about main characters' most important birthday day and something about non-human characters, hope you don't mind. It's mostly angst and I'm so sorry about that.

YOU'RE WELCOME AND I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT<333

I know most of the ages sound ridiculous but it's really hard to attach them all together :(

Characters' Ages And Facts About Main Characters' Most Important Birthday

Au's ships: TicciWork, NinaKate, MaryJane and Bloody Angel(probably should've said this earlier)

Current year: 2014

Main characters

-Jeff The Killer: 20

Jeff got burned at the age of 15, at his most important birthday. His parents were seeing a therapist while Liu was still in prison, and his therapist made a suggestion to Jeff's parents to organize a birthday party for cheering Jeff up. Jeff can never forget the day he was burned alive because his whole life was shaped by it. That's why he hates his own birthday and attacks if anyone tries to celebrate besides Liu.

- Clockwork: 20

Clockwork's most important birthday is the 18th age. Because that was the first year she wasn't on her own. Jeff, Toby, Nina were close friends of Clockwork at the time and each had their own small-scale celebration. For the first time, Clockwork didn't hate her own birthday. That's how she got into the habit of celebrating other people's birthdays, if she felt good about something stupid like that, the people who cared about her might also deserve to feel good in a stupid way, or something like that.

- Hoodie: 25

According to Brian, the most important birthday is the one he celebrated at the age of 10. His family had taken him to see a theater as a gift, and little Brian was so impressed that he was literally obsessed with theater performances and musicals after that show. Even though 10-year-old Brian is the reason why he is where he is right now, Hoodie never blames him for following his dream.

- Masky: 26

His most important birthday is the 20th, when he started working under Slenderman's orders. The year he realized that his life would be like this and that he would have to spend more than he hoped in this job, that fighting would only cause him to die sooner. Obviously, he didn't care about himself, he'd rather die than live this way, but he didn't want to leave Brian alone.

- Ticci Toby: 19

15th birthday. The last year he celebrated with Lyra and his mother since he was a proxy at the age of 16, he celebrated rest of his birthdays as a proxy. Toby doesn't remember all of his memories, and although most of the time his memories are more like pieces, he knows that two women named Lyra and Connie are worth worlds to him. And every time the fragments of that birthday come in front of him, he feels nothing but happiness.

-Eyeless Jack: 21

↺Actually, if he was still alive, he would have been 34. Because he was 21 when he died during the ritual in 1980.

The most important birthday is the year he received the letter of admission to medical school at the age of 18. He had received this a letter a few days ago, and he and his family had thrown a big party to celebrate it. Although he spent his 19th birthday, his first year of studying med, with his family, the most important thing for him is his 18th age.

-Jane The Killer: 22

21, when Mary proposed to her on her birthday. Jane was in a very emotionally repressed state after all her trauma, and Mary could no longer control her feelings for her. While Jane and her lover Mary were sitting in a fashionable restaurant, Mary proposed to Jane. And when there was a lot of opposition because the age group was generally old due to the cost of the restaurant, Jane kissed her on the lips so as not to discourage Mary. The best birthday of her life.

-X-Virus: 17

7th age. That year, he had gone to the zoo on a school trip and celebrated his birthday with the animals there instead of people. This is the biggest proof that he prefer animals' existence to humans. Of course, he might have been happier if a monkey hadn't stolen his food, but little Cody wasn't mad at the monkey then. And when the monkey saw that Cody was upset later, he gave him some of his food anyway.

-Nina The Killer: 19

16th birthday. She and Jeff hadn't made up yet and it was a day when she was really hurt emotionally by him. Her close friend Kate, who saw this, tried to kill Jeff. Although Nina could hardly stop her, Kate was convinced later and they went to hang out at Kate's special place together. Kate was a really special friend to Nina, and she liked that she knew that Kate opened herself up so much. And when Kate dropped her home in the evening, she found Toby and Clockwork were clumsily trying to celebrate her birthday, she cried because of cuteness.

-Kate The Chaser: 20

The first year she spent with Nina as a lover, 20th age. They had become lovers a few months ago, and unlike other proxies, Kate did not remember anything about her past, so she had no memories to miss. Nina had known her since she found Jeff at the age of 15 and was after him. They became close friends when Kate was 17 and Nina was 16, and they started dating when Nina was 19 and Kate was 20. Their relationship began when Kate took pity on Nina and helped her, and Nina helped her during difficult times where Kate tried to expertize in proxy work. The year they became lovers, Nina organized a special day just for the two of them, knowing that she wouldn't want a big party, and Kate's favorite moment was when they watched the sunset with one head phone.

Main supporting characters

-Homicidal Liu: 18

-Sally: 13

↺If she was still alive, she would have been 55 years old. She died in 1972.

-Ben Drowned: 12

↺If he had continued to live, he would have been 32 years old. He died in 1994.

- Puppeteer: 23

↺ If his heart was still beating, he would have been 37 years old. He died in 2000.

-Zero: 24

-Nurse Ann: 27

↺If her heart had been alive, she would have been 33 years old. She died in 2008.

-Bloody Painter: 17

-Judge Angels: 17

-Mary Vaughn: 22

Supporting characters

-Lulu: 16

-Laughing Jack: 214

↺He was produced in 1800.

-Nightmare Ally: 15

↺If she was still human, she would have been 55 years old. She died in 1974.

- Kagekao: 29

↺If he was still a human, he would have been 34 years old. He died in 2009.

-Rouge: 32

-Jason The Toymaker: 134

↺He was produced in 1880.

-Laughing Jill: 114

↺She was produced in 1900.

Background characters

-Slenderman: 2500+(?)

↺It is not known exactly when he was born, some say that there are drawings of him even in ancient Egypt.

- Emra: 25

↺If she was still alive, she would have been 37 years old. She died in 2002.

-Dr. Smiley: 33

-Cat Hunter: 30

-Zalgo: ?

↺It is estimated that his existence endured back even before the earliest times of humanity.

-Weeping Forest: 16

↺If she had not undergone this change, she would have been 56 years old. She died in 1974.

#jeff the killer #creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #clockwork #creepy #ticci toby #creepypasta clockwork #creepypasta headcanons #hoodie creepypasta #masky creepypasta #ticci toby creepypasta #nina the killer #kate the chaser #jane the killer #homicidal liu #zero creepypasta #nurse ann #judge angels #eyeless jack #laughing jack #x virus #ben drowned #puppeteer #mary Vaughn #bloody painter #lulu #sally creepypasta #rouge #ninakate