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#i saw someone say he’d love the negative attention and that’s all i can think about when i see someone talk about him now
ickypuppi3 · 2 years
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you know billy hargrove is the most interesting most relevant character in the whole show when even people who ‘hate’ him are completely obsessed with him
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ploxpoke · 5 months
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Izana X fem!reader
Tw- Smoking, mentions of violence, bad words (lmao)
Fluff with Izana bc I love him <3
Title: ♥ Out Of My League ♥
Izana was in your grade, and despite the two of you being in vastly differing social circles, Izana was interested in you. He’d been watching you for a while now, but he knew better than to approach you head on. He didn’t know what made you attractive to him but all he wanted was your attention. He wanted to make sure you were safe, comfortable, and protected. 
One day Izana saw you walk up to the roof, presumably to eat lunch. He followed you up and he watched you sit down and begin to eat your lunch and took this as an opportunity to talk to you. He walked towards you, his face fixed into a cold and calculating expression. He looks down at you and asks “Who are you?”
You were shocked by his sudden appearance and felt your heart skip a beat. You turned around slowly and looked at him with wide eyes. Your cheeks were flushed from both embarrassment and surprise and you  hesitated before answering 
“I-I'm Y/n”
 You say quietly, trying not to sound too timid. You  glanced back towards your food before speaking again
“And uh- I came here to eat my lunch today, since it's pretty empty up here and all... “
You pause for a second before you  feel a pang of guilt, you were probably bothering him you told yourself.
 “Do you eat here? Am I in the way?”
 You  asked while looking up at him nervously, wondering if he would react negatively to your presence. “I'm sorry- I can just leave if you'd like.” You quickly stand up, about to leave. You feel a sense of dread and you  hope he's not too mad at you. “I'm sorry-”
 Izana raises an eyebrow at your response, clearly surprised by your reaction to his presence, but he maintains his cold demeanor nonetheless.  He leans against the wall beside you, crossing one leg over the other as he observes you carefully. His eyes narrow slightly, taking note of your nervous behavior and the fact that you seemed to be struggling with whether or not you should stay.
“You’re not in the way,Y/n. You can stay here if you want to, I don’t mind.” He says simply, causing your heart to flutter “So, why do you come up here to eat alone?”
You  felt a surge of relief upon hearing him say that you could stay, but then you noticed how his tone had changed and he asked you why you were alone. You froze for a second, unsure of how to answer him. 
You didn't want to seem rude or disrespectful, but at the same time, you didn't want to give him an honest answer, since the truth was that you were ruthlessly bullied. “Uh... I don't really have many friends, so I thought it would be better to be alone. I like the quiet mostly”  You said quietly, not meeting his gaze and keeping your eyes glued to the ground. You had  tried to keep your answer short and sweet, hoping that he wouldn't pry more into your personal life and prayed he'd leave you alone instead of messing with you.
You felt some guilt for not telling the whole truth but you couldn’t bring yourself to.
Despite saying that, you still  hoped that he wouldn't think you were some kind of loser or something, even if you  were to most people, because you really did  like him and he was quite popular with the girls at school.
Izana listened intently to your response, his expression remaining impassive, but internally, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pity for you. He had always been fascinated by those weaker than him, and now that he had identified you as someone who needed protection, he found himself drawn to you even more.
However, he knew that he couldn't let anyone see this vulnerability, especially not someone like you.
“Fine, I understand, Y/n.”  He said softly, still maintaining his cold exterior but somehow making it sound more gentle at the same time.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering you one without actually asking if you wanted one. “Would you mind lighting mine for me?”
You were taken aback by his request, feeling your cheeks turn bright red from both shock and embarrassment. You’d never smoked a cigarette before nor did you plan to, but despite that, you agreed to light his cigarette for him.
“Uhm- sure, I guess I can” 
  You lit his cigarette, your hands shaking slightly as you did so having never used a lighter.
You don't exactly like smoking, but you don't say anything about it. you can smell the smoke and your face scrunches a little from the smell. You  keep your eyes focused on the ground and you try to ignore the fact that you hate the smell of smoke
Izana watched you closely as you lit his cigarette, noticing your discomfort with the scent of the cigarette smoke, but he maintained his cold exterior. He took a deep drag from the cigarette, exhaling slowly, causing the smoke to swirl around him. He then leaned forward slightly, reaching out with his free hand to take yours, pulling you closer to him and placing the cigarette between your lips.
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against him while whispering into your ear
“Take a deep breath, Y/n.. Inhale deeply.” He commanded, his voice low and firm, but also strangely gentle at the same time.
Your heart raced as you felt his strong embrace and you took a deep breath, inhaling the cigarette smoke that fills your lungs. You coughed slightly, trying to hide your discomfort and you looked up at him through your lashes, but still not daring to look into his eyes. You quickly look back down, not wanting him to notice you staring at him. 
Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were wide, but your body relaxed slightly against his as he held you close. The scent of the cigarette filled your nose and made you slightly nauseous, but you didn't complain. You feel a slight burn in the back of your throat and you hate the sensation.
 You coughed a little more and the taste of tobacco and smoke was stuck in your mouth and you hated it but you didn't dare say a word about it. You never wanted this moment to end.
The cigarette smoke mixed with the scent of his cologne and you breathed it in deeply, savoring every moment of being close to him, even though you knew you shouldn't. You tried to focus on everything but the disgusting smell and taste of the cigarette. You can't bring yourself to look at him but you can feel him staring at you.
Izana watched you closely as you took a deep breath, taking note of your discomfort with the cigarette smoke. He saw your hesitation and decided to pull the cigarette away from your lips, putting it out on the roof of the building before he placed it back in his pocket.
  He then wrapped his arms around you even more tightly, pulling you against his chest and resting his chin on top of your head.”You don't like it, do you?” He asked softly, his voice full of concern. 
Despite his dominating nature, he genuinely cared about your comfort and well-being. His arms tightened around you, squeezing you reassuringly as he whispered into your ear. “It's alright if you don't like it.”
He could tell you were worried about something and he murmured to you, his voice honey sweet, “Don't worry, y/n. You're safe here with me.”  His tone was low and soothing, but also possessive, as if he was claiming you as his own.
You nodded against his chest, not looking at him, but feeling his strong arms around you and his warmth. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body and it made you feel safe, despite the fact that he was a stranger to you. 
You  couldn’t bring yourself to care that you didn’t know him that well, you just felt protected. You felt his lips near your ear and you turned your head slightly, wanting to look at him but something in your mind told you you didn’t deserve to so you don't and instead you stare at the ground
“Yeah... I really don't like it.” You whispered back, not meeting his gaze. You felt his chin on your head and smiled slightly. You could tell he was smiling but you still don’t look up at him.
“The taste is gross and the smell makes me want to throw up... reminds me of things I don't want to remember like...-”
You trailed off, not finishing your sentence. You shudder a little and you open your mouth to say something else when you hear people walking up the stairs to the roof. You realize that it's people you usually see Izana with. Other  students say they're all in a gang, and you hold your breath for a second nervously. You know those people, and they're not the nicest. You always tended to believe that at least some of them were in gangs. 
Izana heard the footsteps approaching and immediately recognized the sound of his friends, the members of the Tenjiku gang. He tightened his arms around you slightly, pulling you even closer to him as he glanced over his shoulder towards the source of the noise.He spoke softly into your ear
 “Don't worry, Y/n”.. They won't bother us right now.”
 He said reassuringly, even though he knew that wasn't entirely true. His friends often came to the rooftop to hang out with him, and occasionally they would get rowdy and start fighting or arguing with each other. But for now, he wanted to keep you safe from their prying eyes and judgmental gazes. 
"Well, they won't bother you... maybe each other but I won't let them bother you…”
You listened to his words and felt a sudden surge of relief. You didn't know why, but the thought of his friends seeing you with him, especially since he’d never really spoken to you before made you feel extremely uncomfortable.
You didn't understand why, but your gut told you to be wary of him and you couldn't help but listen to it. As the footsteps grew closer, you  held your breath and felt his arms tighten around you. You knew he was protecting you, but there was something in his demeanor that told you that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to you. 
You hide your face, not wanting anyone to see you at all anymore. You  knew the people weren't going to leave and you knew Izana wouldn't let you leave so you did your best to avoid eye contact and kept your eyes on the ground
The footsteps stopped and you heard voices, and you  recognized two of them as people you’ve seen Izana talking to quite often. you know who they are, Rindou and Ran Haitani . 
The two brothers were calling out for Izana, and when they saw him, they didn't notice you at first. Several other boys joined them before they realized you were even there. Izana kept his grip on you tight and the boys just stared at you for a second, not knowing how to react to your presence.
Rindou and Ran, stopped in front of Izana, their faces filled with surprise as they noticed him holding onto you. Rindou glanced at you briefly before turning back to Izana, his eyebrow raised in question. 
"Izana... Who's this? You've got a grip on her like you don't want her running away. Did she do something?"
Rindou asked curiously, while Ran frowned in confusion, clearly not understanding why Izana had brought someone up here with him.
 "She looks pretty frail, you might break her if you're not careful" Ran jokes
One of the other members of the gang; Kanji, walked over to join them, his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he looked at them. "What's going on here?" He demanded, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared.
 "What'd she do huh? We need to kick her ass or something?" He glanced at you with an unimpressed expression.
 You flinched as the boys started asking questions, and youI felt extremely vulnerable and exposed, but Izana's tight grip around you and his reassuring presence gave you strength.
You  didn't dare speak up, and you didn't move an inch. You felt like a doll in his hands, and you hated it, but you also knew that if you moved or tried to run away, nothing good would come out of it. So, you  remained silent, trying to stay as calm as possible
You gripped part of Izana's coat in reflex when you heard them mention you doing something. You  could feel the fear bubble up from your chest and tears begin to prick the corners of your eyes but you will yourself not to cry in front of them. A small whimper left you as you closed your eyes, trying not to panic. 
You  looked around and you saw a few people who you knew because they had bullied you but, you  weren't worried about that. You were more worried about Ran, Rindou and especially Kanji's words. 
You didn't know what was going to happen, let alone if Izana decided you did do something to deserve being beat up. You tremble slightly and you feel Izana's grip tighten even more
Izana scowled at the implication that anyone might hurt you from Kanji's comment, his grip on you tightening even further as he glared at the member of the gang. Ran and Rindou exchanged confused glances, not understanding why Kanji would immediately decide to choose violence.
"Fuck off, Kanji," Rindou snapped "She hasn't done anything wrong yet you dickhead." Ran nodded in agreement, looking at you with concern yet still had an amused grin on his face
Kanji rolled his eyes at their comments, unimpressed by their defense of you. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, glaring at all of you. 
"Oh yeah? Then what's she doing clinging onto him like a lost puppy then? Looks like she's scared of something"
Ran scoffed and shot him a dubious glance "She's afraid of you asshat. You're not nice to anyone and you just threatened her..." Ran spoke casually and his words were long and drawn out.
Izana's hand tightened around your waist as he sensed your fear, and he whispered softly into your ear so that only you could hear him, "Don't worry, Y/n. Trust me, they won't hurt you. I won't let them." 
He spoke reassuringly, even though he knew that he couldn't guarantee your safety completely. He hoped that his words would comfort you enough to ease your fears somewhat. The three members of the gang approached you cautiously, sizing you up as they studied your appearance. 
Rindou and Ran exchanged glances, their expressions hardening slightly as they took note of your trembling and the way you clung onto Izana's coat while Kanji just looked angry. The three of them watched you and the way you responded to their stares with interest.
You heard Izana's words and felt a little more confident, but you were still very much scared. You look up at him and see that he said something to the guys, but you didn't quite hear what. You  look back at the guys and you see how they study you. You think they look like they want to hurt you, but Izana's words made you feel safer, so you trusted him. 
You believed him.
You slowly let go of his coat, but you kept your hands on it since it made you feel safer. You heard Rin and Ran talking, and looked at them with wide eyes, they seemed to be having a disagreement. You  couldn't understand what they were saying, but you knew that they were arguing about something related to you. 
You see Kanji glaring at you from the corner of your eye and you feel your panic come back but as your breathing picks up you feel Izana's hand lift your chin up to make you look at him. 
He smirked and leaned closer to you slowly. This got the attention of everyone.
 Ran and Rin stared with grins on their faces, as if they knew what Izana was going to do and Kanji looked even more angry. You open your mouth to say something to Izana only to be shushed by his lips on yours. Your whole body freezes up and Izana smirks into the kiss before pulling away and looking at the members of Tenjiku. He noticed how their expressions changed from anger to curiosity to realization as they watched him kiss you.
He knew that this would catch their attention and distract them momentarily from their plans to intimidate you as well as show why he was so interested in keeping you close. His hand rested on your cheek, caressing it gently with his thumb while his other hand wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him. 
He saw the confusion and surprise on everyone’s faces, including yours, as they realized what had just happened, and he enjoyed every second of it.
Ran and Rindou exchanged amused glances, their earlier argument forgotten as they observed the scene unfold before them. Ran elbowed Rindou and grinned widely at him and Rindou handed him something that looked suspiciously like money.
 Ran snickered softly, "Well fuck, looks like someone's got themselves a girlfriend already"
Rindou just  chuckled, and gave Ran a playful nudge. “Don’t act surprised. You called it.”
You stare up at Izana who just grins down at you and you can't help but to flush from his gaze. You look back down at the ground and you mutter something so quiet that not even Izana could hear.
Izana came closer to you and you  see him still smirking.  He says something to the members of Tenjiku again, this time he was more direct. You heard him say "You better not try to fuck with her, you better not even think about laying a finger on her. She’s mine"
He emphasized the word 'mine' with a slight growl, making it clear he wouldn’t hesitate to protect you from anyone who dared to even consider hurting you. He lowered his hand to the small of your back and he grinned at you sweetly before leaning down and pressing another kiss to your lips.
"Is now a bad time to ask you to be my girl?" He says in a teasing tone before whispering in your ear "I've been waiting for a chance to ask and I doubt there will be a better time than now" He kissed you all over your face.
You just nodded and whispered yes over and over to him until he kissed your lips again and laughed with you. He smiled at you and held you close to him and said with the sweetest smile
"God, you're out of my league"
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blues824 · 2 years
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💉The first years having a lady tomoya s/o
💉Learning that she is a demon and only needs a cup of blood to survive.
(that the teachers and headmaster agreed on and giving her donation blood )
💉Them learning about her blood demon art when a overbolt happened and they saw them drawing blood from her wirst to use it them learning they can heal faster than normal humans.
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💉Seeing a serious s/o with the chaotic 1st years is something I (yushiro gives me sebek vibes)
♥️♠️🍎🐺🐊📖
I loved the concept of this, so here you go!
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Ace Trappola
When he learns that you are a demon, he lets out the most high-pitched scream you have ever heard. He acts all tough until you spill that on him and now he’s trembling in his Heartslabyul uniform. 
He calms down when he hears you say that you buy blood from consenting donors rather than just taking it for yourself. This… unique business transaction is mutually beneficial because you help someone financially and they help you with sustainment.
He is definitely the type to either fake an injury or exaggerate a small injury just so you could patch him up and soothe him. To get your attention, he will definitely lay his head on your lap and pout until you start giving him love and affection.
When Riddle overblotted, that was the first time where you demonstrated your blood demon art. You made Riddle hallucinate through your blood, which allowed the students to take him down. From there, you nursed him back to health as best you could.
You earn a lot of respect on campus since you are very serious and you tend to break up a lot of fights. You are a role model in class and all the teachers and professors always use your work as examples.
One time, Cater and Trey were going to Sam’s shop for ingredients when they walked in on you scolding Ace for running his mouth and getting into a fight because of it. You, who believed that violence was never the answer, felt betrayed.
I do think you would have to take online classes most of the time due to the sun being harmful to demons. Since Ace isn’t nocturnal, it causes some problems, but late night weekends are great for the both of you.
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Deuce Spade
When he learns that you are a demon, I feel like he’d see it as really cool. I mean, the love of his life is so beautiful yet dangerous. He might be a little intimidated at times, but he doesn’t love you any less than he did.
He understands that you need sustainment, and he finds it nice (in a more unique way) that you buy blood from consenting donors. When he sees you drink it, it reminds him a lot of vampires and how they suck the blood of humans.
He won’t fake an injury to get your attention. Rather, whenever he felt attention starved, he would get into a fight with someone over the smallest thing just so you would focus on him, even if it was in a negative way. 
When Riddle overblotted, it was the first time you demonstrated what you could do. Everyone around you saw Riddle get distracted by something and that led them to a weak point. Even though he would never tell you, Deuce got jealous about how caring and motherly you were acting towards his Housewarden while nursing him back to health.
You have everyone’s respect here. The teachers love you, the students want to be you. You’ve saved so many students from Deuce. I’m not joking. You would arrive before the fight starts and drag him away by the ear.
You’ve scolded him many times and brought up the promise he made to his mother and how he wouldn’t be honoring it by fighting. He understands where you’re coming from, but it low-key still hurts whenever you’re right.
You take online classes most of the time so as to not get hurt by the sun, so he would often go over to Ramshackle to hang out with you and study with you as well. Maybe late-night library study dates. There’s not many options here until Rip-off MJ finds a way to conquer the sun.
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Jack Howl
When he finds out you’re a demon, he doesn’t really care either. He’s a beastman… so what? It doesn’t matter to him, as long as you both love each other. He’s not very intimidated, but he’s aware that you could kill him in a few seconds if so desired.
Just like he needs meat to sustain his wolfly diet, you need blood to sustain your demonic diet. He might be a tad uncomfortable with you casually drinking blood, but at least you buy it from a willing person rather than just taking a bite.
I feel like he doesn’t get injured often, but he might feel sore from either P.E. or Magift practice. He would go to you to calm down and feel at peace as you massaged his back and shoulders, as well as giving some medicine to keep the soreness to a minimum
When Leona overblots, you took the chance to demonstrate a small portion of your power by distracting him via hallucination. Diasomnia was quickly evacuated, and the other students defeated Leona. Jack also got a bit territorial when you acted so kind to his Housewarden while he was recovering.
Even in Savanaclaw, you are very well-respected. Some even bow their heads as if you were a person of royalty. You help out as best you can in the infirmary as well as just in Savanaclaw since most of them do extreme sports. 
He tries his best to not get into fights, but sometimes it’s necessary. You are both at a mutual understanding that Jack would try his best to avoid it, or try not to bring too much damage until you arrived on scene.
Since you have to remain online, your relationship becomes a tad more complicated. However, Jack switches from morning runs to walks so that he can have enough energy to do a night walk as well. Study dates are also a necessity.
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Epel Felmier
He’s another one who’s scared when he finds out you’re a demon. Sure, there are beastmen on campus, but they don’t consume the blood of humans… which is what he is. He will try to make it seem like he isn’t phased, but he definitely is.
His heart starts beating again when you tell him that you purchased it from consenting donors and would never do anything evil like what he originally thought. He does find it disturbing whenever he sees you drinking human blood, but he would fight anyone who talked about it.
With your medical knowledge, you serve a great purpose in Pomefiore. You have dabbled in dermatology since it ties with other illnesses and therefore can give advice to the students of that dorm. You often would politely giggle at Epel’s pure hatred for Vil’s skincare routine for him.
When Vil overblots, that’s when you expose your powers. You are able to 1) Make Vil hallucinate and therefore get distracted, and 2) Get him to spill the beans as to why he overblotted in the first place. You then helped nurse him back to health (Epel totally didn’t get jealous).
You are often consulted within the Dorm because of your medical knowledge as well as your beauty. Vil sees you as a friend, and so does Rook. Epel’s glad that you are welcome to the dorm because it means he gets even more time to see you.
Country boy means fights. There is no way he won’t get into one if he gets the chance. Of course, he has to face Vil’s and your anger when he comes back, but yeah. There have been many times where you stood there with a disappointed look on your face.
You remain in Pomefiore to do your classes so that you can spend more time with your boyfriend. Vil might disagree with staying up so late, but Epel just wants to spend time with you as well. With the promise of being cooperative during the next day’s skin care routine, Vil reluctantly allows it.
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Sebek Zigvolt
At least you aren’t a weak human. If I’m not wrong, demons live longer than even faes do… so yeah. You understand the power of a monarchy, and you understand that the young lord must be given the utmost respect. That being said, you’re alright in his book.
He does get a bit disturbed whenever he sees you casually drinking a cup of blood, but it’s not the weirdest or most horrifying thing he’s seen in Twisted Wonderland. You gladly explain that you buy the blood you need from consenting donors, and that you don’t take any more than necessary.
He would never tell you whenever he wants your attention. He will instead start yelling at everyone for any minor inconvenience. Only you have the power to calm him down, and that’s by forcing him to lay his head in your lap, where you start telling him a story. He will fall asleep dreaming of whatever you tell him.
When dealing with the overblots, you cut yourself so as to expose the blood you have. Many have been captivated by the spell and got distracted, leaving an opening that the others used to their advantage. Plus, you nurse the victims back to health.
You are also respected in Diasomnia because of the power you have. While you don’t condone violence, there are other ways to defeat someone. Plus, your medical knowledge exceeds that of most professionals. 
From what I’ve seen, he’s all bark and no bite, so you don’t have to scold him a lot. However, there’s that once in a blue moon where he does get dragged into the first years’ problems and you come and drag all of them by the ears to the Headmage. 
You do online courses at Diasomnia, but there are a few times where you still have to go back to Ramshackle. Whenever that happens, Sebek will gladly take your arm in his and escort you safely to retrieve whatever you need to. It’s always peaceful when you both walk there and back. Truly romantic.
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lodessa · 1 year
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first lines
Rules: Post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to AO3. (Sort by date posted.) If you have less than 10 fics posted, post what you have. 
Tagged by @feeisamarshmallow (a while ago, whoops)
The Backup: "The angry sound of a car alarm draws Weevil’s attention as he trudges past the garage."
Loved and Exploited Well: Charlie looks out through the glass of her penthouse windows, down onto the city so far below. It’s been ten years and she still can’t seem to get used to the sight, to the height, the neon lights that never flicker out even in the middle of the night.
More My Fault Than Yours: Things come into focus eventually, the horror of her nightmare receding as she becomes aware of the warm hands gently shaking her awake, the solidity of Chakotay beside her, his face staring down into her face in the almost darkness.
Exhausted Midas: The insomnia is so much more obvious here on Earth than it ever was on a starship. On a starship it is always both pitch black and totally illuminated. People are always working, someone is always on duty. Here the days are distinct, night and day the province of the sun and moon, rather than the chronometer. Sleepless nights are registered in sunrises rather than hours passed.
Life is a Record. Play a New Song: “No one likes a Negative Nancy,” her mom snaps with zero self awareness and Chrissy prays that if nothing else at least she keeps an awareness of her own flaws. High strung. Easily startled. Too quick to say yes to whatever anyone around me wants. Neurotic. Spineless. 
Down to the Bottom: “You are drunk,” he says, putting his hands on her shoulders to steady her or keep her at a distance as he steps backwards away from where she has leaned in.
there's an awful lot of breathing room (but i can hardly move): “If it isn’t Jase the Just,” Eddie smiles, leaning over the counter to give the awkward eleven year old a high five as he makes his way from the door of the shop to the playing area in the back. Chrissy’s heart swells to see her son just open up, grinning and walking with a confidence she never saw a year ago when he first asked her to pretty please drive him down to Tomb Bound Tomes. It is still something she doesn’t see at home.
Don't Leave Me Dry: Miles thinks he’d forgotten, forgotten the power of drowning out the sound of the world with a set of headphones and an album you have listened to enough times that it is part of you. It’s all too easy, to close his eyes and lose himself in the memories of days gone by, lying on his bed back in Jasper with Bass putting off algebra homework to this sound. But at the same time, after all these years of darkness and silence, he can’t take for granted these sudden gifts: electricity and a forgotten album collection and discman left behind by someone many years before, who understood they were never going to play again. But now, suddenly, they do.
My Fear is Fading Fast: Eddie surveys his work and he has to admit that the trailer has never been cleaner. It will never not be shabby and cramped, but it is as tidy and sanitary as it is possible to make it. It will have to be enough. .
Safe from the Guards (of Intellect and Reason): Chrissy checks her reflection in the mirror for probably the hundredth time. She knows it is ridiculous. Nothing has changed since Max helped her pick out this outfit a few hours ago, but she can’t help fussing anyway, wondering if she should wear something else. Cow. Tart, her mother’s voice echoes.
Tagging: @rogueimperator, @austennerdita2533, @didim-dol, @janiedean, and @electricbluebutterflies.
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birlwrites · 1 year
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now, if we’re talking about how i see barty, well.
i like to think that, to most people outside of his circle, seeing who he was as a student, and then after voldemort was resuscitated and he infiltrated hogwarts and all that, it would seem like a complete one-eighty. and people would understand that if they had minimal knowledge, because all his friends died, and he ended up running around with the lestranges of all people, which is already enough to fundamentally fuck someone up, but then there was azkaban, and his father keeping him under the imperius for years, the whole thing.
so, like, yes. to people who didn’t really know him like his friends at the time did, they sort of just assumed he got himself so deep into the war that he became a product of it.
because what people at hogwarts saw was… not so bad? like. he was a brilliant student, and if even sirius knew about his relationship with his father, then that must not have been much of a secret (unless you want to go down the road of regulus talking to his big brother about his friends at school before it all really went to shit, but, well, that’s hurt/comfort for another day). i see teenager barty as, like, a sort of social butterfly in the sense that nobody really minded talking to him? like. he’d just go and strike up random conversations with people when he felt like it, and people just sort of let it happen, because he was funny and smart and honestly just a funky little guy. he didn’t have that many close friends, but he was very far from a recluse, or anything like that.
i sort of imagine him as the type to pick fights for fun, or at least make it look like it’s for fun, like he’d just rile people up in a clever way? like, he’s very sneaky. he says the meanest shit but it always comes out as a joke, so people never really know whether or not to be offended? until he makes it clear that he’s dead serious about the shit he says, and then nobody finds it funny anymore and they’re out for blood. and he gets a kick out of that, because he’s a bitter kid who got all positive attention from his mum, and all negative attention from his father, so he sort of assumes it can only ever be black and white? and he tries to juggle both of these when he isn’t at home because he isn’t sure which one feels best?
my point is, i think that if his friends had lived to see how things had turned out for him, they wouldn’t have been surprised, because they knew how vicious he could really get, and they understood why and how. i like that, in canon, sirius sort of shows sympathy for him—mostly towards the situation with his father, which might actually make it empathy—and i think that his friends would, too. not in a way that they would excuse what he’s done (because evan and regulus surely weren’t much better, and pandora and dorcas definitely did not fuck with any of that shit), but in a way they would understand how it came about, and might even have foreseen it towards their last couple of years at school.
i also hc him as having cyclothymic disorder, but that’s a whole other story.
this got long, i’m sorry, you extended a hand by offering me to ramble about my barty and i took the whole arm sjjsj
— 💌
do NOT apologize i literally asked for this, i am no stranger to rambling and i certainly would never judge someone for answering a question i asked afjslghsjdkjfdsdf
i love the vibrancy of your characterization - the sense of it not really being a bait-and-switch, but being more different things coming to the surface at different times. juggling positive and negative attention in that way sets him up for a really interesting dynamic with the lestranges as well, what with bellatrix's everything - of course things are going to work differently with the lestranges than they have with barty's parents or classmates, and it also depends on rodolphus and rabastan's characterization, but *i* certainly wouldn't be surprised at this barty joining up with them
and yeah azkaban and the long-term imperius from his father do him *no* favors
and the riling people up YEAAAAAAAAAA
(side note one of my favorite things is sirius and barty parallels ok moving on)
OH MY GOD I WANT TO TALK MORE ABOUT BARTY AND CYCLOTHYMIC DISORDER. i find that absolutely fascinating because i generally think of him as being kind of mercurial but that's literally never occurred to me (possibly because very early on in the atfhv planning process i started associating the black family specialty heavily w hypomania and so i tend to think of mood disorders more in conjunction with the blacks than anyone else wHICH IS PART OF WHY I THINK OF 'I FEEL LIKE A GOD' AS A REGULUS SONG it's all coming full circle hell yeah)
and i do think that hypomania fits in very neatly with what you've said about him kind of looking for fights - but it's in such a way that people can't really tell until he makes it clear what's going on
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ulircursed · 2 years
Note
willow :   how does your muse handle sadness   &   depression ?
zinnia :   how has the loss of fallen comrades and/or loved ones affected your muse ?   has it taught them anything or given them any new perspectives ?
BOTANICAL HEADCANONS (no longer accepting!)
willow :   how does your muse handle sadness   &   depression ?
For all that he tries to appear as uncompromisable as he can in front of others, especially if he feels like something like pride or reputation is at stake, Andrei isn’t the most emotionally fortified person at his core, and is more easily shaken and even saddened by failure, fear or negative circumstances than he tries to be.
His responses... well, in public he tends to force himself to power through it, sometimes covering what weaknesses he has with a shield of apathy, anger or cruelty depending on the situation. In private, he does cry when he needs to, and while he does absolutely think of this as a weakness, it's also something that he feels is inevitable, if disappointing for someone like him who had no chance of living up to worthiness to begin with, so he just tries to keep it under wraps as much as possible.
In short, he tries to handle ‘weaker feelings’ on his own time, while minimizing their effects on his public, day-to-day life. How successful he is at it depends on what the stressor is and who he’s trying to interact with, but being able to keep a cool facade is a skill that he considers highly important and tries to utilize as often as he can.
zinnia :   how has the loss of fallen comrades and/or loved ones affected your muse ?   has it taught them anything or given them any new perspectives ?
In the arena event I joked that Andrei liked his mental health better before, when he didn’t care as much whether his individual allies lived or died, and that is to an extent true. Fallen comrades were less of a concern to him when he commanded the Beige Ritter, and it wasn’t until coming to Garreg Mach and going on a mission where he saw a comrade he’d come to care for immediately die in the next battle that it began to affect him.
And, well...... he hates it!! Caring is painful!! If something that didn’t give him any trauma before gives him trauma now, he’s not exactly going to be thrilled about it. But it’s also not something he can simply ‘turn off’ on a whim, and even now, if the circumstances are similar enough (after that initial friend, there are now a small handful of people whose deaths he’ll personally care about, much to his chagrin), he’ll find his attention split between focusing on the enemy and checking on the state of his allies. (Which he also hates, since it’s not often that he, an archer, can actually do anything before it’s too late anyway, and really it just puts himself in more danger for little gain...)
As for loved ones, hmm. I’m going to talk about Ring here, because while their relationship was tumultuous, I don’t believe that there were truly no positive feelings at all between Andrei and his father. I keep saying this, but I am of the firm stance that Ring was, objectively, an ok~good dad. He was tougher on Andrei than on Edain, I’m sure, because he needed to prepare his son for a position neither of them believed he could satisfactorily fill, but I don’t think he was cruel or abusive to Andrei, nor do I think he didn’t love his son.
And so I feel Andrei did have some sort of love-hate relationship with his father, enough that the act of patricide itself did elicit intense self-disgust at his own actions. He tries to downplay this in his own mind, focusing instead on reflecting upon the fact that he’d killed their family’s sole remaining major blood (which also sparks self-disgust, but at slightly less cost to his... sanity) (because it becomes less about the fresh revelation that he is a monster who is capable of killing the ones he loves, and more about oh look, the unworthy heir is overstepping his station, what else is new, he’s dealt with this literally his whole life), and further justifying it as for the good of Yngvi, but honestly... Ring’s murder was basically the first step on Andrei’s path of ultimate self-destruction that culminated in his final battle with Brigid (where he absolutely expected and wanted to die), and everything after that (coming to TOA) is just him realizing he’s not about to get that wish anytime soon, and thus trying to pick up what pieces of self-image he still has, most if not all of which he had given up as lost from the moment he released the arrow into Ring’s heart.
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adrinoir · 2 years
Text
This isn’t about Emilie anymore
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Hey, besties. It’s been a while, no thanks to Miraculous being on a hiatus. But, I think it’s time to talk about one of the most god awful villains and fathers ever - Gabriel Agreste, and what his true intentions are.
Gabriel consistently claims he’s trying to get the ladybug and black cat miraculous so he can have life restart itself and make his wish to get Emilie back. But, based on his actions alone, it really doesn’t seem that’s so much the case anymore.
How he treats Adrien speaks volumes
First things first, Gabriel treats his own son like garbage. Adrien is the one tie he has to his wife - he’s his son, for fucks sake. Adrien lives with him and truly loves him. On numerous occasions, he even compares Adrien to his mom - it’s clear they’re a lot alike. But does he actually spend time with his son? No. Not at all.
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Speaking of the comparisons to Emilie, Gabriel’s comparisons are often not positive ones, as if Adrien gets a lot of negative traits from his wife. If Emilie has a number of negative personality traits, does he really care about her to the extent he claims? Or does he just like having a pretty wife as eye candy or for some…well, you know.
Anyhow, he says to Adrien in the what if episodes “I’m doing this for her - for us.” But, if he was actually doing it for both of them, he’d actually make an effort to spend quality time with Adrien and show he cares about him. It’s very obvious Adrien is also grieving a lot over Emilie, but Gabriel isn’t trying at all to comfort him.
He knows Adrien loves Emilie and is grieving over her too. Wouldn’t Emilie want him to give Adrien the attention and care he deserves? If she didn’t, that means my analysis is trash and she’s just as manipulative as Gabriel. Sadly, we do see in Wishmaker that she just might be manipulative based on Adrien’s lifelong “dreams” being whatever it is his parents want him to be. But, it’s hard to judge right now how she was as a person and parent.
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Adrien is shown to favor Emilie over Gabriel, whether it’s because they just because they had a closer bond or because Gabriel has always been this manipulative, making him the bad parent of the two.
I still wonder why Gabriel doesn’t care for his own son. I can’t remember if I saw it in another Tumblr post or a video analysis, but someone had mentioned maybe he neglects and manipulates Adrien because once the world restarts (if he gets his wish, which he definitely doesn’t), he’ll get a version of Adrien that won’t remember any of this. So, he somehow feels it’s justified to neglect and akumatize his son while he works towards getting the miraculouses. But, honestly? This is Adrien now, in the present, and no matter what, he should still be here for him, showing that he cares. He clearly has a lot of faith that he’ll get the miraculous, if this is the case.
So, there’s that theory, or, he maybe just sees him as an object. He uses Adrien a lot to be this “perfect” boy. He’s a model, and he’s multi-talented. This could be just because he wants good money and to seem like this wonderful father figure to the public eye, or it could be because Adrien is a sentimonster which might not be an actual human in the eyes of Gabriel.
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He’s going insane
Gabriel is shown to be getting crazier as the series progresses. He has started going insane lengths just to get the miraculouses, almost as if he does it just because he enjoys controlling people.
For crying out loud, he akumatized himself just to trick people. He akumatized his own son since he knows how badly he can manipulate someone else who’s also grieving.
Listen, I don’t feel ready for his crazy ass in season 5 with all the miraculouses he now has. You saw the way that man evil laughed when he got the miraculous from Felix?
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The season 4 finale really showed how insane he’s going. In Risk, he has a breakdown in the basement. He starts screaming about how he’s not worthy of their love and smashes his fist onto Emilie’s coffin(?) literally causing it to crack. Then he runs away, scared for his life. And even in the next scene, he doesn’t even really ask poor Nathalie if she’s okay. Just gets the idea that Ladybug never takes a risk, and laughs maniacally and runs out to start his plan.
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He seems power hungry
Speaking of the finale, he was so thrilled about getting the other miraculous. Isn’t that kinda odd? Those aren’t the ones he wanted. Those aren’t going to grant his wish.
He might be happy just because it’s more help in getting the miraculouses. However, it could also be due to his intentions changing.
“I took all the miraculous from her! Now I am more powerful than ever!” Uh. Absolutely sounds power hungry. He’s living for this.
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This man uses his son. He wants to keep his Agreste brand alive and well. He ignores his son to focus on getting his wife back. It’s proof he’s conceited and wants this power.
Conclusion
There’s probably more reasons I can’t think of off the top of my head, but yeah. I seriously don’t think he’s doing this all for Emilie anymore. You can’t convince me otherwise. He’s such an awful person.
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mimi-cee-hq · 3 years
Text
A Genuine Mess - Atsumu x f!reader
Pairing: Atsumu x f!reader
Summary: Atsumu insults you, the quietest girl in his class. But as he gets to know you, your few words often leave him blushing.
Genre, etc.: Tooth rotting fluff, Atsumu is a dork in love but still consistent with his canon character, reader is quiet but not timid
Warnings: none
Author's Notes: I wanted to try a different personality for the reader as well as taking one of Atsumu's negative character traits and flipping it on its head :) This was fun to write. Hehehe.
Words: 1.9k
*****
"What? She's here for me?" said Atsumu. He pressed his lips together to hide the smile forming on his lips. As he attempted to walk to the gym doors as normally as possible, Aran tilted his head while Osamu wore an amusing smirk.
Atsumu leaned on the frame of the gym doors. "What'd ya want?" he asked you, trying to be as smooth as possible. His voice didn't reveal his usual arrogance and was unexpectedly gentle.
"Could I see your hand?" you asked him with a quiet but direct tone.
When he held his hand out in front of you, you delicately turned it over, palm faced down, and positioned his fingers one by one. You didn't notice him gripping the side of his jersey in his other hand, trying to keep it together every time your fingers grazed his skin. You let go of his hand to pull out your phone and angled it to get a good shot of his hand.
Click.
"Thank you Atsumu-san," you told him, putting your phone away and leaving the gym.
Atsumu returned to the court, not even able to hide the childish grin from his teammates anymore. Some widened their eyes and others dropped their jaws as they witnessed the entire scene.
"So when did you start liking her?" Suna asked him.
"I don't like her," Atsumu adamantly responded.
A laugh escaped Osamu's lips and Atsumu told him to shut up. He hated that his twin knew exactly why he was acting like this.
*****
"Well that looks ugly."
Seated at your desk, you looked up from your sketch to see Atsumu's scrunched up nose. It didn't take long for it to disappear. Osamu whacked him on the head for insulting the quietest girl in class two and quite possibly their whole year.
"Sorry about this jerk," Osamu told you. "He doesn't have a filter."
But when he started to drag Atsumu away from you, they heard the rare sound of your voice.
"Miya-san," you said.
They both turned around but after looking at each other, they assumed you were referring to your classmate Atsumu.
"Why does it look ugly?"
"Ha?" Atsumu gawked at you. He scratched the back of his head. "I dunno. The shoulders just looked gross"–he got whacked on the head again–"Hey!" He glared at Osamu.
After they bickered for a bit, they turned their attention back to you, but you were already facing your desk, immersed in your sketch. Osamu raised an eyebrow at Atsumu, expecting him to know what that was all about, but he only shrugged his shoulders, not having a clue either.
The next time Atsumu heard your voice was when you came to see him at his desk.
"Ha? What's this?" he asked.
In front of him, you had placed another sketch. You didn't say a word but looked at him as if you were expecting some sort of comment.
Atsumu raised an eyebrow but looked at the sketch anyway.
"What's wrong with this dude's hand?" he asked as he squinted at the drawing, holding your sketchbook up to his eyes. "It looks like it's dislocated or something."
The classmate beside him shot his eyes open. He then looked up at you to see your reaction.
"Thank you," you told Atsumu with a little nod before returning to your desk. Those were the only words you had for Atsumu and they had left him and his classmate speechless.
Atsumu's eyes lit up the third time you came to his desk.
"Which one looks the worst?" you asked him, showing him three different sketches.
"This one," he said, pointing to the one in the middle. "There's no way a person could have hair like that."
You ignored his comment and asked him again which one looked worse. He still chose the middle one, saying the expression reminded him too much of his brother.
You gave him a nod as thanks and as he watched you return to your desk, there was a small uptick at the corner of his mouth, gazing at you gathering your pencils together and continuing your progress.
Over the next couple of weeks, he watched you from afar as you drew doodles during class when you should've been paying attention. He wondered if he should actually write notes from the lesson in case you needed them. Maybe he'd pass them to you the next time you showed him your artwork.
But you hadn't made a trip to his desk during the next two weeks. Why did you stop coming? So when you left the classroom, he quickly opened the sketchbook that was left on your desk and went through it page by page, curious to see what you'd been drawing this whole time. As he flipped through the pages, he saw how your drawings had gradually improved. He couldn't help but smile at your growth as an artist.
"Miya-san."
He jumped at your voice and snapped the book shut. He fumbled over his words. "I wasn't looking! It just fell and I picked it up from the ground!" he told you. "When I put it back on yer desk it just happened t' be like that!"
He then saw an expression he had never seen on your face. Your brows were furrowed and your lips turned into a frown. You let out a deep breath. "Miya-san, you're free to look through my sketchbook, but please don't lie to me."
His eyes widened before he lowered them to stare at the classroom floor. Shoulders sagging, he told you in a hushed voice, "I'm sorry." He sighed and dragged his feet back towards his desk. But just when he was about to pull out his chair, he heard your soft voice.
"Miya-san," you said, looking directly at him when he turned to you. "Like I said, you can come and look at it whenever you want."
Atsumu pressed his lips together, trying to hold back a stupid grin on his face. But his eyes betrayed his attempt as they crinkled and turned into crescents, elated at your offer.
*****
Over the next several weeks, Atsumu used any excuse he could to chat with you at your desk before he finally settled on talking to you about anything and everything. He tried to get to know you, asking you questions, but your answers were short and simple, not knowing how else to respond.
However, Atsumu shamelessly continued to talk about himself, his brother, the team, and whatever else was on his mind that day. You always nodded and listened with a smile.
"I think she's just being nice to you," commented Osamu.
"She's never stopped me," Atsumu replied with a huff, crossing his arms, which only resulted in Osamu shaking his head.
Without looking up from your sketch, you told him, "I like hearing him talk."
Osamu's eyes grew at your response but when he glanced over at his twin, Atsumu's ears and cheeks had turned red.
"Oh?" the silver haired twin said with a sly grin. "You're blushing 'Tsumu."
"No I'm not!" Atsumu said after clearing his throat and turning his head away. Osamu was about to tease him when instead, you said something that deepened his blush.
"It's cute."
Osamu's jaw dropped. Atsumu froze at your comment before deciding to put his face down on your desk, burying it into his arms.
As you and Atsumu got to know each other, he learned that you were still close with your friends from middle school. They were there for you, always supporting you and your passion for art. But when you asked them what they thought about your drawings, they had always said they looked good. You were grateful for them but you couldn't tell if they were just being nice.
"So is that why you asked me about yer drawings?" Atsumu noted. You confirmed it with a nod and he looked at you with longing eyes and a soft smile.
You caught him off-guard when you took a photo of him. "Your expression was interesting just now," you told him. "I want to use it as reference."
Atsumu blushed and covered the lower half of his face. He muttered something through his hands that you didn't quite catch.
"Hm?" you asked.
"Y-you can use me as reference any time."
You took him up on his offer. You'd often snap pictures of him, casually pulling out your phone when you'd find an interesting expression on his face. You even came to see him at practice when you wanted to practice drawing some hands. He often wondered what you noticed about him when you used him as reference, what expressions you saw in him.
One day after classes had ended and volleyball practice was cancelled, he sat at the other side of your desk as you switched to a different drawing pencil from your set. What did you see when you looked at him? His eyes? His nose? His lips?
His hand rose next to your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. When you looked up at him from your drawing, he pulled his hand back, suddenly realizing what he was doing.
He bit his lip, scolding himself for doing that to you. You called his name and his attention was back on you.
"Why did you stop?" you asked.
Butterflies were fluttering in his stomach, not at all expecting those words. Looking at you through his eyelashes, he saw you directly looking back at him. Were you serious?
Somehow getting the courage to make a move, he drew his hand toward you and gently cupped your cheek. He bent over your desk and brought his lips near yours, stopping midway as if waiting for permission to follow through. You leaned in a little closer and he closed the gap, feeling your soft lips against his.
Pulling back, his eyes studied your face for some sort of reaction. He bit his lip, doubting if that was what you wanted. Perhaps he didn't do a good job or you had changed your mind after the kiss.
What if you were just doing this for reference?
He searched your eyes for an answer, not knowing that you saw the insecurity in his.
"I liked it, Atsumu."
His eyes grew. He was both delighted and flustered, not believing that he got to kiss you, that you'd accept a kiss from someone like him. He hugged you and placed a kiss on your forehead, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close.
*****
"Guys! I have a girlfriend!" Atsumu declared, storming into the gym the next day. They all raised their brows when they saw who was holding his hand.
"Are you serious?" asked Aran.
"It's probably fake," Suna commented.
"He must have bribed her or something," Osamu added.
"All of ya just shut up!" Atsumu yelled at them as they all gave him a skeptical look. He sighed and dropped his shoulders as he held your hand.
They snickered and teased him, but when there was a silent pause in the air, they heard your voice for the first time.
"I like him," you told his team. Your voice was quiet but they heard every word. They freaked out, gawking at the two of you, an unlikely pair.
Atsumu turned his face away because his cheeks went red again. Your words, more often than not, caused him to be up in a fluster.
*****
I hope you enjoyed it.
I couldn't help but have Suna say it was fake for all my "A Glimpse of Yellow" readers. lolll.
If you liked this one, you might like one of these:
1) my Tendou one-shot (timid!reader)
2) my Sakusa one-shot (where he gets a crush on exchange student!reader)
3) my Kyoutani one-shot (another unexpected pairing)
And I want to shamelessly throw in my Suna chaptered fic (fake dating) just because it's my current series. lol.
I also have a Google form for my taglist if any of you are interested in it.
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softlymellow · 3 years
Text
flaws -- B.B
pairing: Bucky Barnes x ! insecure reader
word count: 1.8k
warnings: angst and talk about body image, insecurities and a persons flaws. 
summary: reader compares herself to Natasha as she see’s her and Bucky getting close. She think’s he doesn’t have feelings for her due to her not being perfect and because of her flaws but Bucky reassures her it’s not. 
note: i hope this imagine isn’t taken this wrong way as me trying to romanticise someones insecurities. if i did please dm me or let me know so i can help fix it!! i promise i wasn’t trying to make anyone feel bad or anything and EVERYONE IS SO BEAUTIFUL IN ALL SHAPES AND FORMS and everybody is insecure about something and that’s completely normal but you are loved and you are perfect and you don’t need a man ( or girl! ) to tell you that. hope you guys enjoyyy
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You loved being the reason he smiled or laughed.
 Not that he would do it often, his face masked from the trauma he experienced. But when you were the reason he was happy, it gave you almost a sense of pride, but it was taken away from you.
There she was, Natasha Romanoff. 
Her incredible orange hair that sat on her shoulders was eye-catching, her glowing skin and her full scarlet lips complimented her appearance tremendously. 
You couldn't blame her. She was everything you couldn't be and everything you should be. Yet, the lump that rested in the back of your throat was difficult to ignore as you watched Bucky and Natasha interact with each other. A genuine laugh arose from the male, yet you could only wish you were the reason he laughed.
It wasn't as if you weren't friends with him. Hell, it seemed like a lot more to you. Maybe only to you.
You pulled your knees to your chest and hugged them tightly, watching the pair chatter among each other near the dining table as you reside in the comfort of the couch across from them.
Steve sat beside you, busy fixating himself on his new cellphone and playing around with the features.
You drew small circles on your knee to comfort yourself, ignoring the voice that was calling out to you.
"Y/n!" Your head snapped to your right, looking at a semi-concerned Steve. "Almost lost you there," He chuckled while you rubbed your eyes, gaining your full attention.
"How do you change the ringtone?" He innocently asked, poking his phone.
"Just go to settings and search it up." You told him, relocating your gaze to the pair. Steve hummed as he did what you instructed him. You sat quietly before you began to chew on your fingernails, thinking of every possible explanation on why Bucky would choose Natasha over you.
It almost felt as if you were being toyed with, one minute you'd be two peas in a pod, often being teased as one of the only people Bucky began to get close to other than Steve. On the other, he'd be flaunting off to every girl he would see.
"You know you should stop staring before you make it obvious," Steve whispered next to you,  jumping at the sudden break in thought and looking over to a smirking man.
"Steve," You hissed, glaring at him, "before making what obvious?" You innocently asked, attempting to cover up the embarrassment you felt.
Steve shot you a knowing look and you felt your cheeks flare-up, "Shut up."
"I didn't say anything," Steve responded with a smug expression. You rolled your eyes jokingly before turning your attention to Bucky.
"You should give it a shot, yknow," Steve whispered.
You shook your head 'no', snapping your gaze to Steve, "Trust me," He said in a hushed tone. Looking back to Natasha, you couldn't help the sickening feeling as you watched the pair flirt with each other.
"What would he see in me that he wouldn't in Nat," You mumbled under your breath, not intending for Steve to hear.
"You wouldn't know," Steve cleared his throat, poking at his phone with a pleased look on his face. You tilted your head as you narrowed your eyes at him. Getting up from the couch, you had decided to leave to wallow in your sadness.
You made your way past the pair and you heard the silence that fell among them, their gaze darting holes in your back as you walked away from the room.
Ignoring the distant mumbling behind you, you made your way towards your bedroom. Locking the door behind you, you hadn't bothered to turn the lights on. You dropped on your bed as you felt a swarm of emotions hit you. Once mostly consisting of jealousy.
You took out your phone and headed straight to Instagram. You scrolled through for what could only be interpreted as hours before you paused on a single post that lied on your feed.
It was a picture of Natasha that was posted only a few hours ago. It was taken during Tony's infamous parties last night, one that you had skipped out on due to feeling ill. She sat on a red velvet couch, and she wore a skin-tight black dress that sparkled in the light. She held a drink to her mouth as her red straightened hair fell over her eye. You had noticed that Bucky liked the picture, and you felt the tears brim your eyes. Your grip holding the phone as if your life depended on it suddenly faltered as it fell beside your head, briefly missing your face.
Getting up towards the large mirror that was framed on the closet door, you noticed every imperfection on your figure. Your hands travelled to your shirt as you pulled it off your body, leaving you only in your bra and your negative thoughts.
Your eyes wandered to every flaw, the extra fat and skin on your stomach. The way your body wasn't the perfect hourglass figure. Your fingers traced over your stretch marks that lied on your hips, feeling the slight dent in your skin. Tears began to fall down your face. Your flabby arms and that your breasts wasn't the ideal type.
Sitting on the ground in front of your mirror, you hugged your legs tightly against your chest as you sobbed.
You couldn't fit the standards that were made. The more you looked and the more you scrolled, just end up bringing newfound insecurities. That was a problem you had faced many times during your life and you began to doubt yourself. You would rather be anybody else, feeling unfit in your own body, one that was especially for you. All you saw was what you should be. A happier person, a prettier girl, and a stronger Avenger.
You threw your shirt back on, making your way towards your bed. Lying your head down, you allowed yourself to think about nothing. Empty thoughts. Thoughts that had no meaning and brought you no use.
A knock on the door brought you back to your reality. Getting up, you brushed away the tears that stained your cheeks as you sniffed. Suddenly feeling exposed, you pulled your sleeves down to hide your arms before opening the door.
Your eyes widened as you saw a concerned Bucky waiting outside. His eyebrows furrowed upon seeing your puffy eyes and your red cheeks.
"Can I come in?" He politely asked, his eyes watching every move you made. You nodded, not trusting your voice.
You stood aside, allowing Bucky to slip into your room as you shut the door behind him.
You leaned against the door, your arms crossed against your chest as you waited for him to say something.
He sighed, not knowing where to start, his hands ruffling his hair. "Are you avoiding me?" He obliviously asked. You could almost laugh at how stupid of a question it was.
Your lips could only quiver as you attempted to respond to him. "What?"
"Doll, I don't know if I did something wrong, but you seemed pretty upset back there." He tilted his head and pressed his lips together.
You shook your head as you bit the insides of your mouth, "No, no, it was nothing." You muttered as you sat on your bed, staring at your palms.
"Doll, I know you well enough to know when something is wrong." He shot you a small smile.
"Do you like her?" You instantly regretted saying that, your insecurities creeping in again.
Bucky was taken back by the sudden question, his eyebrows raised in confusion. "Who?"
"Natasha."
"What, no. Where'd you hear that from?" He enquired.
You looked up at Bucky, tears glossing over your vision. "I've seen the way you look at her, Buck."
"No, Y/n. I've never liked her."
"You don't have to lie for me. I mean, what's there not to like. She has the perfect body, face and hair and-" You were interrupted by his sudden grasp on your hands.  
"And you don't have those things?"
"I-I don't." You whispered.
"That's a lie, and you know it." His firm voice alarmed you as if you somehow offended him.
You got up and kept strong eye contact with him. "What are you trying to say, Bucky? Have you seen me?" You scoffed and started to point and poke around your flaws.
"There's nothing wrong with your body, doll." He said in a calmer tone, realising you were insecure about your body image.
"Bucky, you can just stop faking it. Go back to Natasha." You muttered, sniffing as you looked down at your feet.
"I don't love Natasha, Y/n! I love you, doll. I always have." He confessed, slightly panting as he raised his voice.
You stood still, finding it difficult to believe in his words.
"I love you and every part of you." He took your hands in his and planted a small kiss onto your knuckles.
"Then what about-"
"Forget about her, doll. I tried to forget about you through her. Steve told me." He looked up to your eyes, watching your reaction.
You felt the heat creep onto your face as you realised he knows your feelings towards himself.
"Do you really?" You asked, hope in your eyes.
He nodded, still holding your hand and planting small kisses. His kisses travelled up towards your arms as you felt a swarm of butterflies swarm your insides.
"I love your arms," he left a trail of kisses as he went further up.
"Your shoulders," he mumbled against your skin, a tingling sensation was left after every kiss as you felt yourself biting your lip in admiration.
He made his way towards your neck, loving the way you tensed under his touch. "Your neck," he kissed behind your ear as you bit back a moan.
You tilted your head, allowing him to move further, his lips moving alongside your jaw. He finally reached your lips and caught your gaze on his. His lips were mere inches apart from yours, you felt his breath fan over yours.
"Your lips," he whispered, his mouth slowly reaching yours as they gently kissed. Your lips dancing over his, enjoying the moment. His lips were soft against yours and he kissed you as if you were fragile, something to not be tampered with.
He slowly let go of you, his forehead against yours. "I love everything about you, doll. Don't doubt that and don't compare yourself to other women. You're equally if not more beautiful than them." He whispered, pecking you on the cheek.
"You'll realise your worth, Y/n." He kissed you on the forehead.
You felt better after Bucky had come found you that night. Your insecurities didn't go away, instead, you found them as someone else's treasure. And that made you feel better.
-----
a/n: man that last part has me embarrassed. 
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The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 3)
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Summary: Reader earns her nickname, and Spencer sinks to a new level of sin. A/N: Here, take your first dose of smut 💊 ✨ Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Drinking, alcohol, masturbation (male) Word Count: 5.3k
MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist
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If I had to pick my favorite thing about working for Spencer Reid, it would probably be something that most people wouldn’t expect. Sure, it was nice to be able to work with a human encyclopedia, and he was definitely very nice to look at, but neither of those things contributed to my love for my job.
It was the sense of belonging. An overwhelming feeling of serenity that existed, flowing freely beneath the surface like a network of roots twined together. I never felt out of place when I was with Spencer — which couldn’t be said for basically any other time. Especially not now.
Halloween is one of my favorite holidays because it’s just absurd. You harass your neighbors while dressed in a costume and they reward you with something sweet (or, in some cases, change). As I’ve grown older, not much has changed aside from the creativity and length of the costumes.
... and the sweet treats being replaced by the bitter sting of alcohol.
“You do realize that guy was hitting on you in there, right?” my friend shouted from less than a foot to my right.
“He was just being nice.”
“Yeah... in a bar,” another girl chimed in, “On Halloween.”
I tried to remember the face of the man they were talking about, but my memory of his eyes blended into the flashing lights of the club. Even if I wasn’t drunk, I knew it would have been hard to remember him. Because the truth was that he wasn’t the person I wanted to see when I closed my eyes.  
“Leave her alone. She’s trying to stay pure for her professor,” my friend snickered.
Despite the treachery, I still caught her before she almost pushed us both straight off the curb in her drunken state. But it wasn’t her opinion I was worried about, because at that point, I was certain she would remember none of it by the time class rolled around come Monday. It was our other acquaintance that I responded to, with a very squeaky and unreliable, “I am not doing that!”
“Yeah, what she wants isn’t pure at all,” the mess on my shoulder droned. That was enough of a reason for me to drop her, although it really resulted in both of us barely staying on our feet on the somewhat crowded sidewalk.
“Stop! It’s not like that!”
“Sure it’s not.”
Then, something else caught her attention. Knowing her, I figured that it was either a man in a scandalous costume, or it was a two for one drink deal plastered in front of a bar. I assumed it was the latter, because as soon as she finished talking, she grabbed hold of our hands and yanked us against the brick wall of the next bar.
“So you wouldn’t mind if, theoretically, Professor Reid saw you in your costume?” she asked.
I like to think that I am a relatively smart girl. After all, I had made my way to graduate school, and Spencer seemed to think that I wasn’t a complete hopeless idiot. But in that moment, I couldn’t understand why on earth she would ever think to ask me that.
Running my hands over the fuzzy pink bodysuit I was wearing, I tried to picture his reaction. As soon as I tried to look down, however, the two floppy bunny ears affixed to the hood dropped over my eyes.
“I-I mean, I guess not…?” I mumbled, my face growing hot from something other than the alcohol, “I’m wearing it in public, so...”
But then she said it — the most terrifying two words I’d ever heard in my life.
“Okay ­– good.”
My eyes shot up immediately, trying to follow her eyes through the crowd of drunk, costumed people. By the time that I spotted him, somewhat thankfully dressed in normal clothes, I was powerless to stop it.
“Dr. Reid!” My friend’s voice rang out into the night, “Dr. Reid, come over here!”
The moment our eyes met, I knew I was fucked. Totally, completely, and utterly fucked. A clever little grin filled his cheeks as he quickly spotted me trying to hide under my hood.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” I shrieked, but he was already on his way over.
“You said you didn’t mind!”
In a panicked whisper, I bit back, “I didn’t say call him over here!”
When he grew closer, though, I corrected myself. Because it was not just Spencer who was walking over. There was someone else with him. Another man, just as tall and just as beautiful as Spencer, but with a dark complexion and an even more wicked smile.
As for my company, they had already scattered into the bar behind me, leaving me with a wordless, dumbstruck look on my face that was very poorly hidden behind bunny ears.
“H-hey Prof— Dr. Reid,” I managed to get out.  
“Hey,” he answered in a tone I’d never heard before. A slightly guarded, very entertained but mostly awkward stretch of the vowel.
The man beside him, however, was quick to question.
“Who’s this?”
As I said before, I like to consider myself a relatively bright person. But the alcohol that night had been both free and strong. So, when I was asked by a handsome man who I was on the Devil’s night, I answered honestly.
“I’m a bunny!” I cried, bringing my hands together over my chest and turning to present the small pink pompom affixed to my lower back.
“I can see that,” the stranger replied through a genuine chuckle. But while the action was amusing to at least two of us in the conversation, Spencer looked mortified. It wasn’t necessarily negative, though.
I couldn’t be sure, of course, considering that I had already consumed more liquor that night than I had in the past month, but something told me that Spencer was less humiliated by me, and more worried about how blatant his response to my answer was. Because when he spoke, he did so through a smile.
“She’s uh... my teaching assistant.”
“Teaching assistant, huh?” his friend repeated, clearly amused.
There was almost a challenge to the title. Something about the way he said it setting my heart into overdrive. Unable to control my own treacherous tongue, I continued to dig myself a wonderfully sized hole to jump in to.
“I’m also very good at hopping,” I said.  
Once again, the better company of the two laughed. Spencer, however, covered his smile with a hand that brought attention to just how red his face had grown over the course of a few seconds. I was so distracted by it, lost in the way I could still see upturned lips just from his eye shape alone, that I failed to acknowledge the other man for a suspicious length of time.
“Well hey, don’t let me get in the way of you two catching up. Reid, I’ll go tell the hostess we’re here, so the others know where to go.”
With a firm pat on the shoulder, the man almost turned to walk away. But before he could, I drew him back again.
“Ooh, is there a party?”
Spencer, finally able to speak again, rushed his reply.
“No, it’s nothing.”
It was obviously not nothing, though. Judging by the toothy grin that his friend flashed, it was a very big not-nothing.
“Did he not tell you?” he asked with an incredulous, mischievous tone, “It’s his birthday.”
And it was, by far, the most insulting, scandalous news I’d heard that night. Enough to elicit a sharp gasp and hand reaching out to grab his wrist in a way I knew I shouldn’t have.
“You didn’t tell me it’s your birthday!”
My mind was racing, kicking myself for having not figured it out sooner. I was trying to recall the monthly staff newsletter, but then quickly remembered that I usually relied on Spencer to summarize them for me.
“It’s not my birthday,” he explained with a sigh, “It was a few days ago.”
His friend seemed pleased by my response, although he clearly saw it dwindling. My heels had already dropped back down with my hands that fell away, signaling a very different emotion than the excitement from seconds prior.
“We’re meeting up with some people for drinks and dinner. You want to come?” he asked, trying to convince me before it was too late.
But the moment had passed, replaced by loud, insecure ranting that insisted that Spencer wouldn’t have avoided telling me his birthday unless he didn’t want me to know. That meant he either didn’t enjoy making a fuss out of his birthday, or he didn’t want me to, specifically.
“Uhh...”
“Don’t answer that,” Spencer cut in, swiftly raising a hand to dismiss the other man whose name I finally learned. “Thanks Derek, I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Suit yourself,” he mumbled back. But Derek, in all of his disappointment, didn’t fail to draw out one more flustered laugh from the two of us who remained as he gave a tiny half-wave and sang, “Goodbye, Bunny.”
Spencer’s neck craned back, never once leaving his friend until he had safely entered the restaurant. Once he was sure that he was safe from ridicule, or at least observation, his entire demeanor changed.
“I’m sorry about that,” he offered, but I couldn’t accept. If anyone had been a bother here, it was me (and my friends).
“No, I’m sorry I bothered you!” I rushed.
The silence stretched between us, an unsettling reminder that we rarely interacted outside of work. That he’d never known me to party, and I’d never thought of him doing something as routine and normal as celebrating a birthday. It shouldn’t have been strange, but it was.
Perhaps that feeling was what drove me to continue, proudly stating, “I promise that I will have all your work ready first thing in the morning.”
It wasn’t until Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened in a strange, lopsided grin that I’d realized I made a mistake.
“Um...” he spoke through laughter, “Tomorrow is Saturday.”
“I’m very motivated?”
Thankfully, he saw the humiliation and was happy to offer me a graceful escape from my humiliation. “How about I give you until Tuesday, instead?”
“Yeah, that’s probably for the best, huh?”
I gladly took it, staring down at my heels as I tried to find anything else to focus on. Anything that wasn’t his eyes that seemed even more powerful after dark. But true to the magnetism I always experienced in his vicinity, I was drawn back into golden irises full of an emotion that made my heart beat twice as hard.
“Where did your friends go?” he asked. I didn’t trust myself to answer, so I just threw my thumb over my shoulder and towards the bar behind me. I didn’t turn away from him then, too scared to acknowledge that I would be leaving him soon. That we would go our separate ways again and I would have to wait until Tuesday to drown in the honey of his eyes again.  
Sure enough, Spencer gave a solemn nod and cleared his throat before mumbling, “Right. You should probably go find them, so they don’t get worried.”
But I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with him, the rest of the world be damned. I wanted to feel his eyes on me longer, especially when they started to wander my figure that I’d secretly hoped he would see.
I could pretend to hate my friend for calling him over all I wanted, but when I slipped into the costume hours earlier, I’d wondered what he would do if he saw me like this. And now that the answer was in front of me, torn between the exposed skin of my thighs and chest, I wanted to experience it for as long as possible.
With my fingers on the zipper to try and calm my heart, the inebriation manifested in soft giggles as I replied, “I think I’m pretty safe with you, Professor.”  
Spencer didn’t need to vocalize his disagreement. I saw his contention in the form of wayward eyes falling to my hands that fiddled with the tiny piece of plastic keeping me covered. When they trailed back up the zipper teeth to meet my eyes again, they were filled with a hunger that took my breath away.
Unfortunately for us, though, our smitten haze wasn’t shared by anyone else in the vicinity. Especially not the drunk pack of men who passed, completely unaware of the amount of space they took up on the sidewalk. I don’t even remember one of them running into me, but I definitely remembered what followed in extreme, vivid detail.
Spencer caught me, quickly and more gracefully than I thought him capable of moving. His arms were locked around me, not only preventing me from face planting on the concrete but causing me to press my face directly against him.
Before he had a chance to say or do much of anything else, I placed my hands on his chest and tore myself away from the warmth of his embrace. Because I was already drunk enough on the alcohol — I didn’t need to be any more inebriated from him.
“S-See? You caught me!” I squeaked.
I didn’t miss the fact his hands stayed on my waist even with the added distance, his fingers subtly digging into and stroking the plush fabric. I didn’t try to stop them, either.
“Are you going to be okay? Should I take you home?”
I knew it wasn’t how he’d meant it, but my inner voice still pleaded, Yes, God, please, yes! My outer voice, however, clung to reason and respectability.
“No! Don’t miss your birthday dinner!” I insisted, but he didn’t look convinced. “I’m fine, seriously. I just suck at walking in heels.”
Any part of me that would have normally been offended by his insistence that I couldn’t handle myself while drinking was quelled by my desire to keep his hands on me as long as possible. Although there was enough space for my arms between our chests, I swore I felt his fluttering heartbeat against my fingers. I thought of hummingbirds.
Resigned to my stubbornness, Spencer took a moment longer to stroke patterns through the pink fabric wrapped around my waist before he sighed, “If you say so.”
“I do!” I giggled, leaning closer like I might convince him not to leave at all, “So you better listen up, mister Professor man.”
The look he gave me was sweet, honeyed bliss. But even that seemed minuscule in comparison to the way his hands slid over my sides, making their way over my shoulders and gently brushing the errant bunny ears back out of my face. He left them there, too, with a barely-there caress of my face.
“You look cute,” he said, like it wouldn’t break my heart.  
Shier than he’d ever seen me before, I somehow managed to still look him in the eye as I answered, “So do you.”
It was a good thing I’d been paying attention, too. If I hadn’t been staring into his eyes, I would have missed the flash of chaotic playfulness that appeared just as he glanced down at the space between our chests.
I wouldn’t have been prepared at all when he dropped one of his hands from my face to the zipper of my costume. Not to say that anything could have prepared me for the way it felt to have his knuckle brush against the skin just below the lace bralette that had been meant to protect my modesty.
Before I could even comprehend the delicious friction of our skin, it was gone. Spencer pulled the zipper up to my chin, releasing the plastic in favor of grabbing hold of my chin once more.
“Be careful with that zipper,” he instructed, “I don’t need you getting hypothermia this early in the semester.”
Unsure of how else to respond, my body responded on instinct as it stammered, “I-I promise.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, and my autopilot continued.
“Double promise. Promise squared.”
“Okay. You have my number so... call me if you need anything.”
I absently nodded, but Spencer accurately concluded that I hadn’t actually processed what he’d said. When he let go of me, he took the time to smooth out the bunched up fabric over my shoulders. I tried to convince myself that he was just interested in the soft fluff, but it was hard to ignore the hunger that’d only grown stronger. The darkness that rivaled the moonless hallow’s eve.
“I don’t mind giving you a ride home if it means you get back safe,” he said with a deathly seriousness strongly contrasted by the flippancy that followed. “Otherwise I’ll have more work for Tuesday.”
I was grateful for the shift, because it made the loss of his hands hurt less. My chest filled with laughter that quickly burst from me with frantic, messy words.
“Of course! The work. For Tuesday. Okay! Thank you!”
“For what?” he also said through laughter.
“I— don’t know.”
Spencer turned away from me, looking behind him at the obligations that would tear us apart. I wondered if he, too, was busy contemplating how well it suited just how different we were. How two establishments side by side could house such different things. How we were frequenting opposite ends of the spectrum.
Whatever he was thinking about, however, it didn’t break his spirits too badly. Because before he sent me on my merry way, he flashed me the goofiest little bouncing peace sign before he sang, “Hop along, little bunny.”
So I did, turning back to my life and letting him return to his. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes following me until the darkness of the bar swallowed the space between us.
Still, I didn’t need him to be there to remember how it felt for his hands to roam my body like familiar territory. I saw that look in his eyes every time that I closed my own and remembered how it made my legs shake like weak stems bending to the wind.
I decided then that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world that he’d seen me in my costume. In fact, I think he quite liked it.
 ——————————————————
 There are few things more relentless than Derek Morgan. Death and taxes, perhaps. When it came to mocking me, there wasn’t a single missed opportunity. Even at the darkest hour, I trusted him to be consistent and predictable.
That was precisely why it made no sense that I had made it through an entire dinner and drinks outing with the team without him mentioning what had happened. Not even once. I almost let myself be relieved. Perhaps time spent with a child that can talk back did him some good, I thought. But when the time finally came for us to take our leave, I realized my mistake. He wasn’t holding back out of the kindness of his heart.
No, Derek wanted to wait until there was no escape route. He wanted to have me trapped in a car hurtling down a highway before he spoke the words that he’d been waiting to say all night.
“So... Bunny.”
“Her name is (y/n),” I quickly corrected. Unfortunately, Derek wasn’t in a merciful mood. Although there was a notable smirk on his face, his next words were uttered with a hefty dose of skepticism. A warning that it was a subject that ought to be approached with a critical sincerity.
“Her name is Trouble. That’s what her name is,” he said, shaking his head.  
“She’s just my teaching assistant,” I said like I might actually convince myself, though we both knew that I wasn’t going to convince him. “It’s fine.”
“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?”
But that time, it was me who issued the warning.
“Stop,” I ordered, meeting his eyes to find him hiding his genuine concern under jokes that weren’t really jokes at all. “I respect her. She’s very bright and she earned her position.”
“I never said she didn’t. I know she’s probably smart, but I also saw the way you looked at her.”
The words felt like a blow to the stomach — yet another reminder that my affections for her were so thinly veiled they might as well be scrawled across my skin. He didn’t need to be a profiler to notice that I was fond of the girl, but it certainly made it worse.
Because he knew that I was lying when I muttered, “You don’t need to worry about it.”
He knew that I was lying, but he still asked, “Why’s that?”
“She’s...” I started, pausing while the word tried to form on my tongue. The word that had haunted me ever since those damned girls mentioned it. That short, simple little noun that had taken a cursory affection and turned it into full blown lust.
“She’s a virgin.”
Derek’s brows jumped up his face, his jaw dropping the same way mine had when I first heard the news. Then, just as I had, he put the pieces together and realized that it should have been a foregone conclusion.
“Trouble with a capital everything,” he half laughed.
But this wasn’t a joking matter, and I really wished that I could make him believe that. That definitely wouldn’t happen, though. Not when he looked up to see me hiding behind my hands, sinking into my seat like it would get me out of the conversation.
“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s obviously waiting.”
It was the wrong thing to say. I should have seen his response coming from a mile away. But I didn’t, and so I was forced to listen to his childish giggles that were followed with an even more lighthearted crooning.
“Yeah, waiting for the right professor to come teach her the lesson on the birds and the bees.”
“Cut it out.”
Without even looking, he astutely observed, “Kid, you’re blushing.”  
“Yeah, because you’re talking about me fuc–”
The word never made it out, getting caught between my teeth as I bit down on my tongue damn near hard enough to make it bleed. I wished it would. I wanted the iron to drown me and rid me of the sinful things it sought to do, instead. Opting for a more… distinguished explanation, I eventually stammered the rest of the thought.
“You’re talking about me... deflowering my significantly younger employee!”
“You can say fuck, Reid,” he deadpanned, “I think you’re old enough now.”
“I don’t want to. It sounds too... crude.”
I didn’t expect him to understand. How could he? He’d only seen her when she was at her most provocative… by far. Part of me envied him, to be able to sequester her innocence and view her as just another girl.
But she wasn’t like anyone else. She was an untouched bloom, a magnolia of unearthly shades. A beautiful blossom that had broken through the concrete walls I’d maintained for so many years. A tantalizing taste of the life outside that I refused to let in.
A fucking tease.
“Too crude for little miss innocent bunny?” Derek cooed, and it was so uncomfortably close to my thoughts that I couldn’t help the way I snapped back.
“Are you done?”
As we pulled into my parking lot, Derek just waved off my hostility, recognizing it as nothing but misfired shame and anguish at the thing I wanted being out of my reach.
“Yeah, I’m done. I hope you had fun, even with the teasing.”
I chose not to dignify the second half of the statement, climbing out of the car like I couldn’t step away from the conversation fast enough. But of course, I knew that only made my guilt more apparent. My culpability was clear and conclusive. There was no argument to be made.
“You know I’m right!” he shouted just before the door shut. A final reminder, one last cautionary call for the beast inside of me to keep itself hidden lest I allow myself to sink my teeth into something pure.
“Goodnight!”
Few things changed when I reached the confines of my apartment walls. Fantasies had only devolved into a vividness that was borderline frightening. How easily I could get lost in visions of her, only promising my return in exchange for my imagination agreeing to become a reality that I would get a chance to experience.
But that wasn’t fair to her. She was just a girl doing her job with an astounding amount of patience and understanding for her hopeless romantic of a boss. For a moment, the guilt became so overwhelming that I let it win. I managed to swallow my newly acquired memories well enough to navigate my nightly routine without wishing she was there every step of the way.
Wishing that she would call me. That she would grant me the excuse to return to her, to touch her as freely as I had earlier. I imagined a world where, upon arriving to her destination, she invited me in.
As I collapsed on my bed, I wondered if she would have preferred the privacy of my home. A place far enough away from other students and academics to finally see me as something more than a superior. Something attainable in a way she never seemed to be.
Just as I closed my eyes to give in to the dreams, my phone buzzed. The sound set off every nerve in my body, all of them very poorly coordinating to allow me to grab the device and turn it on to reveal her name.
“Hey Professor! I just wanted to let you know that I got home…”
I’d never opened a notification so quickly, but I should have waited. I should have paused and taken the time to notice that what I was opening wasn’t just a collection of letters and symbols.
It was a set of pictures.
Pictures of her.
“Safe and sound and zippered up. No hypothermia for this bunny tonight,” she tagged onto the end, “Sweet dreams!”
How could I ever dream of anything but her? How was I meant to turn off my phone now, knowing that she was there; her drunken, lustful stare on display? I only tore my eyes away from her face long enough to notice her surroundings. I took extensive, painstaking notes on the color of the sheets on her bed and the way the zipper I’d tugged at to control myself from taking her had fallen away again.
I could feel the softness of her skin against my knuckle again. I heard the way her breath nearly broke at the force with which she sucked in air at the feeling of me touching her. How hard she pressed herself against me, how her back arched when I held her and how she never even tried to stop my hands from finding new places to rest.
They worked diligently now, too, trying to keep her awake and with me for as long as I could, but also wanting to free myself of obligations so that she wouldn’t notice how long I’d stared at the pictures she’d sent.
“Goodnight, little bunny,” I sent before adding, “I’ll be counting rabbits instead of sheep tonight.”
As if to reward my efforts, another picture flooded my screen. Her face was scrunched up in an adorable innocence, half covered with her hand but still effortlessly beautiful.
I stopped myself from responding again. I forced myself to stop, to prevent treacherous hands from calling her and begging her to let me come to her. It wasn’t fair — it was manipulative, downright evil, even — to take advantage of her inebriated state to hoard any insight she might provide.
But she’d already sent these… So, would it be so wrong to indulge in her? By touching my own body to the thought of her, would I taint her? Did I care even if it did? Maybe it was for the best to plant the seed of impurity now, to strip her of her power over me.
But deep down, I knew that I would still want her. I would still wish that the hand that sneaked beneath the sheets belonged to her. I could almost feel it as my hand traversed familiar territory. It would be new for her, and it would be new for me to feel the delicate, unmarred skin of her palm slowly sliding down my stomach. Her fingers bashfully brushing through soft curls at the base of me, still too nervous to hold me the way I needed her to.
Her face would be buried in my shoulder, with dew from her breath wetting my neck and raising the hairs on my arms. I would take her hand in mine and guide her to wrap her trembling hand around my cock.
Just like I was doing to myself now, with my other hand still holding the phone displaying the image of innocence. My hand wasn’t as soft or inexperienced as hers would be, but as long as my eyes stayed on her half-lidded gaze staring back at me, I could pretend.
I could hear her panting my name— my real name, Spencer— in my ear, praising the feel of silky skin beneath her fingertips. She would whisper about how she wanted to feel it elsewhere, too. She would beg for me to replace a hand for her most precious place.
That damned angelic girl showing her hand on the zipper would beg me to steal away her innocence. She would unveil herself slowly, knowing that I needed the time to memorize every inch of her skin as it was seen by another for the first time. Seen by me, and only me. The vision would be for my consumption and indulgence.
I wanted it. I wanted her.
My stomach tensed as I pictured the girl staring back at me straddling my hips. I stroked myself harder, faster, letting my thumb trace down her body on my screen.
If I stole it from her, would it be mine?
Would she be trapped as I was, only able to feel anything when I was with her? Would she dream of me? Would she cherish each and every memory of my touch and play it back in her mind? When she felt the urge to break and burn, would she picture my hands lighting the match?
If I ruined her, would she be mine?
I pictured the girl on the screen with tears in her eyes, her mouth stuck open in a silent scream and her hands clutching desperately to mine. I imagined how tightly her body would grip me as I fucked her. How hard it would fight the intrusion of my sinful touch. How I would hold her down despite the resistance until she gave in to me. Until I broke her, thoroughly and irreparably.
She would be mine.
That was the thought that took me over the edge, all energy that was not delegated to my hand feverishly stroking my cock remained with my other hand to hold her picture in front of me. It never even wavered, never once shaking and risking losing any clarity. Even my eyes refused to close all the way.
She would be mine.
The warm, sticky mess of my desire coated my hand and stomach, but all I could think was how it would feel to mark her as mine. To feel the excess drip back down my cock as she collapsed against my body. To know that she would never be the same, never be wholly herself again. That she’d let me inside of her soul and that when I left, I hadn’t left empty handed.
She was already mine.
 ——————————————————
| Part Four |
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ignitedbynatsu · 3 years
Text
He Makes You Feel Insecure ~ Laxus
A/N: Erik/Cobra will be up next! I’ll probably post it next Tuesday or something like that. Anyway let me know who you want me to do next! I was thinking Natsu or Rogue 🤔 (future me: well that was a big lie 😶)
warnings: insecurities (he makes you feel weak), cursing
genre: angst to fluff
Other versions:
Gray ~ Erik/Cobra ~ Bickslow ~ Gajeel ~ Natsu  ~ Jellal ~ Freed ~ Sting ~ Rogue
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It was supposed to be an easy mission. Go in by morning, get back by noon. For some reason you couldn’t get yourself to focus, often leaving blind spots, but luckily Laxus was always in time to protect you from harm. 
You didn’t like relying on others, especially Laxus. It only made your overthinking worse. After all, why would he be with someone that’s not even S-class? You’ve heard the whispers in the guild and Magnolia. Mira-Jane and Laxus would’ve been a much better couple than you two. Even Erza would’ve been a better match, but he still chooses you. Was it out of pity? Did he think you’d get better eventually? Was it a joke? After all, you hadn’t been dating for that long. He could easily change his mind if he saw how weak you actually were.
As your thoughts kept going down the negative spiral, you once again left your right side completely open. Only this time Laxus wasn’t in time to protect you, resulting in a nasty cut that ran across your ribcage.
Laxus finally decided he had enough as he saw his significant other clutches her side, blood soaking through the fabric of your shirt. He electrocuted everyone around, making sure not to hit you. 
“I’m sorry-“ You wanted to apologize but quickly cowered at his stone-cold glare 
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, (Y/N)? How many times am I gonna have to save you today? Get your head out of your ass and start taking this serious, or I’m going home.” He growled “I don’t need this job. If anything it’s an embarrassment that I still go on such low-class jobs. This wouldn’t have happend if I went with Freed”
The vile words that came out of Laxus mouth, confirmed your already overwhelming fears. You were too weak. You were nothing but a burden to him. The difference in power between you two was enormous. While this job seemed like a walk in the park for him, you still would’ve struggled even if you didn’t have an off day. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt that’s for sure, but you still would’ve been drained afterwards. 
“I’ll be better,” You said quietly as you bit through the pain. You recollected yourself and fought off the remaining bad guys, making sure that you were covered on all sides.
All throughout the fight, the pain in your side got worse. It felt like someone was stabbing you repeatedly, but you bit your tongue and decided to ignore it. You didn’t want to look even weaker in front of your boyfriend. After all, it was just a light graze, right?
“How’s your wound?” Laxus asked once you left the job requester’s house with your payment. “It’s fine don’t worry about it”
“Really? Let me take a look” He pressed, but you pushed his reaching hands away “I’m serious, Laxus, it’s just a small cut nothing to be worried about”
That was a massive lie. The cut burned with every step you took. The both of you didn’t even notice that there was still some blood spilling out of it due to your shirt being incredibly dirty from the mud and blood mixed together.
Once back at the guild, Laxus went straight up to Freed, Bixlow and Evergreen, while you went and sat at the table Lucy, Wendy and Carle were seated at.
“How did the job go?” Wendy asked as she sipped on whatever drink she had ordered from Mira-Jane.
“Some cuts and bruises, but the payment was worth it” You joked. The two girls and Exeed laughed at that before talking about something else.
You zoomed out as your wound was taking up all of your attention. It felt as if your heart was beating right where the cut was. With every heartbeat, you had to do your best to suppress a wince. 
“(Y/N)? Are you okay? You look a bit pale” Carle suddenly asked, snapping you out of your thoughts
“Yeah… I’m going to the toilet” You didn’t make it far, because the moment you stood up you collapsed to the ground, fainting from the amount of blood you had lost.
“(Y/N)?” Laxus called out, panicked, as he saw your familiar figure hit the ground with a thud. He quickly shot out of his seat and was in mere seconds crouched next to your body, picking your head up carefully. 
“Everyone, step back!” Makarov ordered as Wendy knelt next to you as well. She lifted your shirt and gasped at the deep cut.
“How did you not know about this?” Wendy asked the older mage as Mira-Jane quickly ran off to get a wet towel to clean out your wound and some bandages.
“I know she got hit, but when I asked her about it, she told me it wasn’t anything serious” Wendy was already performing a healing spell on you while Mira-Jane rejoined to clean out the wound. “She lost a lot of blood, so she’ll need some rest, other than that, I think I healed her”
“I’ll take her home. Thank you, Wendy” Laxus picked you up carefully before saying goodbye to the others and reassuring them he’d look after you.
As he walked the short walk home, he couldn’t help but wonder why you lied to him. Did you not trust him? 
He had laid you down in bed and decided to prepare the both of you some food while you were still out cold. This is the reason why you woke up to the smell of something burning. “Laxus?” You croaked as you recognized the all too familiar room you woke up in.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed” He quickly rushed you back. It was a rare sight to see Laxus worry about someone this much, but it was a sight you often got to see when you two were alone.
“What happened?” You asked as you peaked over his shoulders at the steam coming out of your kitchen.
“I wanted to make us some food since you were still out cold, but as you can see, it didn’t really go as planned.” He replied as he scratched the back of his neck with the ever slightest tone of pink visible on his cheeks.
“It was very thoughtful of you, thank you,” You said as you got back in bed with you back rested against the headboard. 
Laxus sat down as well, but at the end of the bed, putting some distance between the two of you, signalling that something was up. He made it even more clear when he let out a heavy sigh “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal-“ “that’s bullshit, (Y/N), and you know it” He cut you off before you could finish your excuse. A heavy silence was placed upon the two of you. You were contemplating whether you should let him in on your thoughts or not.
“Do you not trust me?” He asked softly, you had never heard the feared Laxus this vulnerable, it made you feel guilty for making him feel that way. 
“No! No, of course not. I trust you with all my heart, it’s just…” You trailed off, at a lost for words once again. You didn’t want to seem weak in front of him. Furthermore, you wanted to prove that you were just fine, but you couldn’t think of a believable lie.
“(Y/N), please, tell me what’s on your mind. Was it something I said?” He pressed on.
“What is it that you see in me, Laxus?” You asked softly. “Where is this coming from?”
You sighed, making sure you were 100% okay with letting him in on your insecurities before continuing “You can’t tell me you haven’t heard the whispers on the street about you and Mira. You two would be a much better match. I’m just some weak mage that’s only holding you back. I’ll never reach your level. Not only that, but I don’t even get why you still want to go out with me on these kind of jobs ‘cause it’s as you said, it’s an embarrassment for you to still do these. The fact that I still see them as hard only proofs how I’ll never be good enough to be an S-class wizard like Mira or Erza. I’ll never live up to the standard of being the girlfriend of the powerful Laxus. I’m just… Not good enough I guess”
He listened carefully that every word that left your mouth and realization struck him as you recalled his words. He had made you doubt yourself. “Is that really what you think I care about?”
You looked up at him and softly nodded your head while biting down your lip. Afraid of him starting to laugh at you for your insecurities. “Listen, (Y/N), I wouldn’t give two flying shits about you being strong or not. Hell, I wouldn’t even care if you had magic or not. I fell in love with you for who you are. You are the smartest, most creative, breathtaking woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Don’t even get me started on that smile. I am deeply sorry for playing into your securities. I was frustrated with myself for not protecting you from that bad guy in time. Please, don’t ever feel like you can’t tell me something because you’re afraid that you’ll come across as weak. I care much more for your health than your pride”
“You love me?” You asked as you looked at him with puppy eyes.
“That’s all you took from that?” He chuckled softly, making you give him a sheepish smile “But, yes, I love you. I know we’ve only been dating for a couple of months and I don’t expect you to say it back, so-“
“I love you too, Laxus. Sorry for making you think I couldn’t trust you.” You said as you inched closer to give him a sweet kiss “So, how about some take out?”
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nojey · 3 years
Text
unnoticed
quackity / alex x streamer!reader
genre: fluff -> angst pronouns: they / them word count: 2.1k warning(s): cursing, suggestive jokes
synopsis: you had known alex since you started streaming but none of your viewers knew. you started getting closer and eventually you started streaming together but your viewers didn’t like that.
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“(y/n)!” alex screamed into his phone after you answered the facetime call.  “yes, my love?!” you screamed back. alex giggled and asked, “do you want to stream sometime soon? i mean like, we’ve known each other for a few months and we haven’t streamed together, i know you’re a fairly new streamer but i even asked dream if you could come onto the smp, and i have something planned- well karl and sapnap helped me plan it- but that’s not the point, the point is-” he rambled.  “alex? are you asking me on a minecraft date?” you asked. “no! well, maybe, okay yeah. i’m asking you on a minecraft date.” he confirmed.  “i’d love to go on a minecraft date with you, alex.” you said, blushing a bit. 
truth is, you’ve had a crush on alex for a few months. when he first slid into your dms you didn’t really expect it, but it turned out to start a beautiful friendship. you always flirted with alex in hopes that he’d notice, but it never seemed like he did. he never retaliated back but little did you know, he was just too shy to.
“uh- okay great! tomorrow, at 3pm your time, stream it. we’re going to have a lot of fun. wear pajamas, or you know- just be comfortable okay?” he rushed. you laughed a bit and said, “yes alex, of course. bye now,” then smiled and hung up. 
you immediately went tot twitter and started a thread: @(y/s/n): this weeks stream schedule (times are pst): @(y/s/n): tomorrow @ 3pm: minecraft date w/ someone i haven’t streamed with yet  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ↳ @ quackity: i wonder who this might be hmMmMMmm @(y/s/n): tuesday @ 1pm: i somehow got invited to an among us lobby w/ corpse, sykkuno, valkyrae, disguised toast, quarterjade, masayoshi, peterparktv, jacksepticeye, and ludwig  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ @(y/s/n): wednesday @ 1pm: if things don’t go well w/ person on monday- looking for a mc boyfriend! ↳ @ quackity: WELL THAT’S RUDE TO ASSUME THAT THINGS WONT GO WELL (Y/N) @(y/s/n): thursday @ 3pm: chitchat w/ nihachu !! @(y/s/n): friday @ 2pm: pummel party w/ ??
as soon as you tweeted all them out, you looked at replies and saw that quackity had replied to both monday and wednesday schedules. giggling to yourself, you replied back to him.
@(y/s/n): @ quackity way to make it obvious alex, if you wanna date me just say it (¬_¬) @(y/s/n): @ quackity how can you assume that it will go well alex (Ő-Ő) ↳ @ quackity: i just know (y/n)!!! truST ME!!!!
laughing once more, you plugged your phone into the charger and went to bed, excited for what alex had planned for you two tomorrow. 
getting ready for the minecraft date was very nerve wracking. the only thing you could think about was whether alex considered this a real date or not. deep inside you hoped that this was a real one. 
the ringing from your phone disrupted your thought. looking down on the screen you saw that the one person you were thinking of was calling you. 
“hello?” you answered. “hi, (y/n), are you ready?” alex asked. “uh, yeah, i just- i just need to start my stream and introduce what we’re doing.” “okay, um- i’m going to send you a link to the dream smp discord server. join it and join vc 4.” he replied.  “for sure, see you then.” you smiled. “see you.” he said and hung up.
“fuck,” you said and wiped your hands onto your pants. you definitely weren’t ready but still, joined the discord server and joined vc 4 then deafened. you set up your stream and hit go live.
“hey everyone! as you may know, if you follow my twitter, today i’m going on a minecraft date! uh no, no one knows who it is yet, but i have a feeling a LOT of you already know who it is.” you said, reading chat and wiggling your eyebrows.
“okay, i’m going to join the server and then share my screen when he’s standing in front of me.” you started playing some music so your viewers didn’t get bored while they waited for you to start. 
once you were logged into the smp you privately messaged alex and asked him where he was. before he could answer you turned around to look at the walls you were surrounded by and screamed out after seeing quackity’s naked body behind you. 
“chat, i’m okay, just got scared. um anyways, yeah.”  you said and showed your screen, revealing the man himself. “quackity!” you screamed into your mic. “jesus christ, (y/n) we can save screaming my name for later.” he said in a suggestive voice. you then started punching him and after each punch you said, “stop. saying. suggestive. comments. we haven’t even started the date yet!”  “okay, okay, okay! i’m literally going to die, (y/n) stop!!” he yelled out. you kept hitting him to see if he was lying but after the second punch quackity was slain by (y/mc/n) showed up in the chat. 
ranboo: i see that the date is going well
you started laughing uncontrollably while alex was silent. “(y/n),” he said in a more serious voice. you hummed as he continued his sentence. “why did you kill me?” “i wanted to know if you were lying. was that a canon life? i think that should be a canon life.” you laughed. “no it wasn’t a fucking canon life. (y/n) you’re not even an official member of the smp!” he said. “i could be,” you said wiggling your eyebrows and crouching up and down. “anyways. follow me, i’m bringing you to where we’re having our date.” so you followed him and when you reached your destination you were at party park with karl and sapnap standing in front of you. 
“hello boys. what are you doing here on our date. is this an amusement park date, quackity? i didn’t take you for that type of guy. it’s kind of cheesy.” you rambled. “no! this isn’t where our date is happening. jeez, have a little more faith in me (y/n).” he said, moving his minecraft character to look at you slowly and creepily. “well there wasn’t much to begin with,” you said, chuckling a bit. you heard karl and sapnap giggling to what you had said.  “hey! take that back!” quackity said, punching your minecraft character. you audibly gasped and turned to look at karl and sapnap again. “you guys saw that right? he just hit me.” you said, faking shock. they both quickly nodded their heads. “i can’t believe you would hit me on our first date.” you said, turning to look at him this time. “you literally killed me!” he yelled out.
so this went on for about 30 more minutes till quackity explained to you that your date would pretty much be a minecraft manhunt with quackity, sapnap, and karl hunting you but you had to find something instead of defeating the enderdragon. if they killed you and they won, you owed alex a real date. no stream, just them. 
“you’re going to hunt me for our first date?” you asked in disbelief. quackity then nodded his head up and down in a very fast motion. “mm cool,” you said as you punched him and ran away in a different direction.
it had been about 45 minutes and you killed karl and sapnap twice, but quackity had not been seen the whole time. but as you were running away from sapnap, quackity appeared in front of you and you faked trying to kill him, letting him just kill you because you wanted to go on that second date with him. 
(y/mc/n) was slain by quackity ranboo: date still going really well, looks like you guys are really hitting it off!
“awe man, looks like i have to go on another date with quackity!” you said. sarcastically faking the disappointment. reading your chat for the first time this stream, it wasn’t your usual happy messages. instead they were filled with negativity.
i don’t see why quackity wants to go on a date with them why did dream let them on the smp?? there are so many other content creators who deserve to be on the smp way more than they do they’re so fucking annoying begging for attention much?
so you grew quiet and just listened to quackity end off his stream while you ended yours without saying anything. but once he finished saying goodbye to his stream, you immediately said bye to him.
“i’m gonna go now alex, thank you for the minecraft date. text me the details for the next. bye.” you rushed.
alex found it really weird that you had just left like that, you guys almost always stayed on call after he finished streaming for at least 3 hours just talking. but he let it slide, hoping it wasn’t something he had done.
you went onto twitter to update about your streaming schedule. @(y/s/n): looks like my stream schedule may be moving around because i’m going on a second date with @ quackity!
alex quickly went to go reply to it but gazed over the replies to your tweet and wasn’t very happy with them. you don’t deserve to go on another date with him you’re literally just using him for clout what an attention whore leave him alone already!
knowing that you barely ever got hate, he quickly called you instead. thinking very hard about what he was about to do. looking at your phone you saw that alex was facetiming you, you wiped your face from the tears that had fallen and sniffled, hoping you didn’t sound too congested.
“hello?” you said. “hey um, i have to tell you something.” he replied. the serious tone of his voice got you very nervous. was he about to confirm everything your chat had told you or even the tweets you just read? “i really like you, (y/n).” he said. you looked at your phone in surprise and he continued. “and i really don’t know if you feel the same way about me but i read the replies to your tweet and i know that you’re a pretty new streamer and i just don’t want you to already be getting hate because of me, you don’t deserve that. you’re an amazing person and i just, i don’t want to be the reason you’re getting hate. so i think it’d be best if we just laid off talking to each other for now.” “i like you too, alex.” you whispered. “but i respect your decision. goodbye for now?” you said, offering a smile to the screen he was displayed on. it looked like he was just as shocked as you when he told you how he felt. “uh, yeah. goodbye for now. don’t be a stranger (y/n).” you smiled once more and hung up.
as soon as you hung up you started crying again. you really liked alex, but maybe you didn’t show that well enough, because if you did, maybe you guys would’ve been together at this point.
the next day, you streamed normally with a faked high energy that nobody seemed to notice, this time not paying attention to your chat. deep inside you really just wanted to curl into a ball and sleep all your stresses away. it really sucked to find out the guy you’ve had a crush on liked you back but he decided to end whatever you guys had going on.
but your chat couldn’t know so you kept a fake facade on, hoping no one asked about him.
though to alex, it looked like you were so unbothered by him pretty much ending your friendship. he started slightly believing the tweets that mentioned how you were just using him for clout. but after really thinking about it, he realized, why would you have been friends with him months before, without any of your fans knowing if you really were just using him. so he scolded himself and went about his day.
you were ending your stream with a big smile, as soon as you hit that end streaming button that smile was gone. you changed into a hoodie and curled into your bed. you just looked up at your ceiling and started crying, you pretty much lost the guy you really liked. your feelings being unnoticed by the public eye.
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miraculouscontent · 3 years
Note
so... could you write some more adrien/chat salt? your fics and posts salting on him are always so good 🥺
Thank you! And of course~
—————
Ladybug had considered what to say multiple times over the day she'd had to think about it. She'd thought about all the different ways she could've said it, and what would've been the most effective when who she was talking to was taken into account.
However, sitting there on the rooftops with Chat Noir, there was a point where she just had to say it, no matter how it came out.
"Give me your miraculous."
Chat jerked his head over to her, jarred from the silence and eyes wide as his brain seemed to process the statement. Ladybug, meanwhile, stared ahead at the night sky, as if she hadn't said anything out of the ordinary.
After a few more seconds, she got a reply in the form of laughter, Chat buckling over with a hand on his stomach. "That's quite the Hawk Moth impression, Bugaboo!" he exclaimed, though calming himself enough to give her a half-lidded gaze and add, "But you don't have to do that to impress me, you know."
She didn't reply, only turning to look at him with her expression entirely flat, not showing any reaction to the mixture of teasing and flirting.
He was still grinning for a while, but as the silence dragged on, he began to falter. "...Ah—" He shook his head, leaning towards her and trying to force a smirk. "—if you want a wish that badly, all you need to do is say the word, m'lady! I can grant all your wishes."
She remained stoic, maintaining eye contact with him but not encouraging his banter. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head as it became clear to him that she was very much not joking.
One of Chat's ears twitched in confusion. He leaned back to his normal distance from her, seeming at a loss for what to say now that the atmosphere was finally registering with him.
Ladybug took a breath, noting that she had his attention. She straightened and looked back over Paris, saying, "I can't do this anymore."
He followed her gaze, squinting as if the answer would be written out there in bold letters for him. "Being a hero?"
"No, us. Us being partners." While he gaped at her, she stared down at her lap, her hands clutching her thighs as if that would give her some sense of stability. "...Chat, do you think this is a game?"
Chat shifted and rubbed the back of his neck, clearly not having expected the conversation to go here. It was hard to tell whether he was trying to keep things light or if it was just his genuine reply when he responded, "W-well, I'm definitely in it to win if that's what you mean—"
"I talked to Xavier Ramier today."
She watched his expression carefully, his hand leaving his neck and hovering awkwardly in the air as he looked at her. He seemed puzzled, not knowing what this had to do with the conversation, though his brows rose briefly like he'd remembered something.
She continued, trying not to show too much in her reaction as she explained, "Since I'm not as busy right now, I thought I'd check in on some of the people who got akumatized but I didn't have time for earlier. He was one of them." Idly, she pulled out her yoyo, almost mindlessly tapping away at it as she navigated through the various menus. "He said you came by to check on him a while ago; said that you were sitting there, just enjoying the day with him. He told me that you asked him if he missed being Mister Pigeon, or if he was feeling any negative emotions."
"I—" Chat tried to interject.
She didn't hear him, too focused on telling the story. "Then I asked him when you showed up, and he didn't know exactly when, but..." She showed him her yoyo, the messages Chat had sent clearly being timestamped for reference. "I figured out from what his rough guess and asking around that it was when you were supposed to be on patrol."
"I was on patrol!" Chat protested. "I was just checking up on him."
"You were relaxing on a bench," Ladybug reminded him., her tone remaining consistently flat. Snapping her yoyo shut and returning it to her hip, she added, "I even asked around and people told me they saw you go into the Grand Paris Hotel. I heard from one of the butlers there that you were sulking, and got excited when you saw Chloe and Sabrina fighting."
He opened his mouth to explain himself, but she could tell that he was struggling to come up with an excuse; he honestly believed that she'd never find out about any of this.
"I trusted you, Chat. I trusted you to cover for me when I'm not there, no matter what." She needed to swallow back her emotions for that one. "Why would you do that? Why would you hope for akuma to happen? Why would you lie to me?"
"I didn't!" Chat insisted, waving his arms frantically. "I—see... it was an off day! I was just—you know I can always do my best around you, and I did patrol! I just... made a few stops along the way! I wouldn't lie to you!"
"So you don't lie to me," she stated cautiously, "and you've never lied against me."
"Of course not!" he assured.
She paused for effect, just long enough for him to grow uneasy, then said, "Theo Barbot waved me down a while back."
Chat visibly cringed, and she could hear a hissing sound as he sucked in a breath.
"He wanted to congratulate me. He saw the picture of us kissing on the Ladyblog and said that he was glad we could finally go public about our relationship." Her gaze sharpened even as she stared at nothing in particular. "I asked what he meant, and he told me that you said that we were a thing. He said that that's what got him akumatized."
"It wasn't..." He averted his gaze. "...a lie exactly."
In response, Ladybug stood, throwing her arms outwards as emotion began to seep into her voice. "This is about more than lies, Chat; it's about everything! If you can only do your best around me, then what happens if an akuma gets me?" She didn't need him to answer. "You'll lose it. I need someone who I know will take care of things even if I'm captured."
"I would!" Chat retorted he stood up, the nervousness now showing on his face. "I would do everything to get you back, I—"
"Party Crasher," she cut in without missing a beat.
He recoiled like she'd physically struck him.
"And it's not just that I can't rely on you if I'm taken out; I can't rely on you not to take yourself out," she said pointedly, turning away from him and taking a few steps away to distance herself. "You're always throwing yourself in front of me and sacrificing yourself, sometimes when you don't even have to and always without just talking to me about it! Do you have any idea how that feels? You tell me all the time that you'll listen to me and how I'm the planner here, and then you go and make plans without me."
She heard Chat's hurried footsteps from behind her as he tried to match her pace and argue, "It's not like that! It's just—it's because..."
She turned just as he reached her, her stern gaze making him stop. "Because my anger is so irresistible?" she asked. "I'm just so adorable when I'm mad that you won't listen to me?" She advanced on him, forcing him back. "Thanks, Chat, that makes me feel so much better that you can't take me seriously because you just love me that much," she said sarcastically.
"That's not what I meant!" he argued, though at that point it seemed like all he could do was weakly protest that he didn't mean anything that way. "I'm only teasing, Bugaboo!"
"Then what do you really mean?" She clenched her fists at her side. "I've told you to stop calling me Bugaboo and you never do! You're too busy bantering and talking about our relationship to focus on the fight, and when that kiss happened - the one that happened because you got shot by Oblivio and I had to save you - you laughed at me for being upset and you didn't care. I'm tired of having to deal with all of that; I'm dealing with enough as guardian!" Reminded of her own status, she steeled herself up and held a hand out to him, managing to calm down enough to say, "Now, revoke your miraculous. I'll give it to someone else."
Chat retreated, his hand moving to cover his ring protectively. The nervousness had partially faded away into him being generally upset, though he also didn't try to defend his actions anymore. "You... if you give the ring to someone else, you'll know their identity!"
"I've already got a plan for that," Ladybug stated, holding her hand out more insistently.
Because of course she did. She wouldn't have been doing any of this if she hadn't given it a lot of thought first. There were pros and cons to bringing in a new cat, and when she really weighed it all together, this was the only way forward. Chat wouldn't learn, and she'd been stuck in a limbo of shouting at him, being ignored, and having to push down her feelings in the future or risk damaging their teamwork. She'd devalued herself - devalued her emotions - in order to believe that she could make it work because she needed him.
Except, she didn't. She needed a cat; someone to use the more active miraculous to balance out the lack of firepower that the ladybug miraculous had. It wasn't that it could be just anyone, but it certainly didn't have to be Chat. While she deeply regretted going back on one of Master Fu's decisions when he couldn't even have a say in it anymore, the fact of the matter was that she was the guardian and she made the rules.
Chat backed away a few more steps, his eyes darting around as he sought a way out of the situation. Then, facing Ladybug, a mixture of upset and offended, he argued, "We're a team! We still come out fine no matter what happened! You don't even know my identity, I've kept it a secret just like you wanted!"
He was reaching, and they both knew it. That had always been the reason for revoking someone's miraculous: someone else knowing their identity. However, there were reasons beyond that, and them "coming out fine" from a battle was hardly a high bar for someone getting to keep theirs. Ladybug knew that well enough after having dealt with Miracle Queen; even if Chloe's identity hadn't been revealed, she was still a bad person who felt entitled to a miraculous.
But Ladybug also understood the game Chat was playing at: that it wouldn't be right to take his miraculous when he's protected his identity. The logic was flawed, but she nonetheless crossed her arms and gave him a blank look, staring into his green cat eyes and starting to fit pieces of a metaphorical puzzle together.
Kung Food, Horrificator, and Startrain: those at minimum were times where Chat's civilian form had to have been inside at the time the akuma happened. Chat had also mistaken Francoise Dupont for an elementary school after they'd defeated Kwamibuster, but she mentally acknowledged that he could've been lying. He had to have been, if they were trapped in that building together with Horrificator. It narrowed things down significantly, and she knew that he had to have been a teenager like her due to the timer on his miraculous.
And while she was aware that Chat's green eyes meant nothing considering that she got green eyes as Lady Noire, there were little coincidences sprinkled throughout their history together that didn't add up unless she came to one final conclusion.
Chat showing up at the museum even though he'd have no way of knowing that an akuma could've been there. Chat knowing that Volpina's illusion was fake. Chat's mysterious loss of his miraculous when Style Queen was attacking.
The feather allergy.
Then, Ladybug glanced at the hand he was covering; the one she knew had the cat miraculous on his right ring finger. She almost felt like congratulating herself for constantly resisting the temptation, because when she actually thought about it, it was so obvious.
She knew that hand, as she'd seen it so many times. She had pictures of it plastered all over her wall and the realization made her feel sick, her heart dropping as opposed to skipping a beat.
"...Adrien Agreste," she said finally. "You're Adrien Agreste."
He blinked, his expression blank at first before dread started to take its place. His mouth slowly fell open, words trying to escape but there weren't any to be found.
She let the moment drag, stepping forward to close the distance between them. Adrien's face flashed over Chat Noir's for a moment and she swallowed, summoning all of her confidence to address him properly.
"Tell me, Adrien. Tell me that this hasn't been a game for you. Tell me that you wanted to protect Paris all this time. Tell me that this hasn't all been about you."
She waited, not expecting or hoping for any answer in particular, because it no longer mattered; the conclusion would the same regardless.
Ultimately, she got no reply, and within the next ten minutes, the cat miraculous was in her hands and Adrien was promptly taken home.
—————
Marinette took a breath of the cool night air, having chosen to walk home rather than get there as Ladybug. She needed time to think, and walking helped her clear her head from the rush of everything that'd happened.
Her purse rustled, Tikki popping out and leaning off the side to look up at her. "Is everything okay, Marinette?"
"Yeah." She nodded her head, just to reassure Tikki further. "It was for the best. It's a lot, but... I wanted to do it; for me, and for Paris."
Regardless of how many emotions she had to deal with, she was glad she knew. She supposed that she could've taken Chat's miraculous without seeing his identity - though it would've been complicated - but it helped her sort through so many thoughts in her mind.
She let out half of a chuckle, idly thinking that she dodged a bullet. If dating Adrien would've turned him into any level of Chat Noir - or, honestly, just knowing that he was Chat Noir - then it was definitely for the best that she figured out his identity. She wasn't sure how she'd behave around him the following days, but just the idea of things being any semblance of "normal" in the face of "the famous model Adrien Agreste," with no stutters or freak-outs...
It was nice, making everything feel a little brighter. Maybe Alya would even stop claiming that she's just "jealous" of Lila, the girls would stop teasing her so much, and she could put all that time she used to spend thinking about Adrien into something more productive. There hadn't seemed to be a downside in sight, actually.
As Marinette kept thinking on the subject, her gaze wandered off to the side, taking in the sights around her, and she paused when she noticed that she was right next to the Seine. The revelation didn't surprise her - she knew she'd have to pass by it to get home - but it did inevitably remind her of Luka, especially since they'd broken up only a day ago.
The metaphorical wound was still fresh, not helped by the fact that Lies had come right afterward as if to remind her of why she had to break up with him; she couldn't have a normal life, and she certainly couldn't have a boyfriend. It didn't matter if she loved Luka and he loved her back, because she would always have to leave their dates at the first sign of an akuma.
Yet, nevertheless, there was some form of comfort in staring out at the river, and she found herself traveling down the nearest set of stairs to walk right next to the Seine instead of so far above it, her eyes trailing along the surface of the water to search for the Liberty.
It took a few minutes of walking, almost making her wonder if she'd passed it without realizing, but then she saw the ship resting in the water, right where it always was. She approached, taking in the various colors and the silly rainbow weathervane, her body automatically relaxing at the memories of those two weeks of crafting kittycorn-themed costumes from paper mache.
Curiously, she noticed that the gangplank was up, as someone presumably had forgotten to pull it back before going to bed that night. Marinette walked over, crouching down and wondering idly if it was possible that it had been put up but had just fallen over at some point, yet it was clearly set perfectly in place.
Mentally trashing the thought, she placed her hands on her knees and started getting up. As she straightened her back, her eyes involuntarily scanned over the deck of the ship, a familiar color palette of blues, blacks, and whites registering in her mind before she fully recognized what—who it was. Her eyes locked onto the figure, and she had to slap a hand over her mouth to prevent herself from letting out a yelp.
It was Luka, sitting down on an instrument case with his guitar in his lap, though Marinette noted after a moment that he was actually asleep. Concern furrowed her brows as she took in his posture, one of his arms resting on the case while the other was perched on the guitar's base. His back was arched against the taffrail of the ship and his head was tilted back to the point where his hair was falling into his face.
There was no way that was comfortable.
Marinette hesitated, feeling almost like she was trespassing, then gave Tikki a look to hide inside the purse while she walked across the gangplank Any footsteps against the deck of the ship seemed unusually loud due to the otherwise quiet night, but Marinette tried to ignore it, approaching Luka cautiously so as not to startle him.
He was frowning, and she involuntarily copied the expression onto her own face. Outside of the bumps in their dates and the break-up itself, it was rare to see him as anything but calm or happy, and she got the distinct feeling that it wasn't just because he was asleep that he was making that face.
She reached up, lightly fixing his hair in case to try and keep it out of his eyes when he woke up, then lowered her hand to his shoulder. She gave him a light shake, then another with a little more effort when the first failed to stir him. When that failed as well, she leaned close, looking side to side like she was afraid someone would see her and think she was doing something strange. However, no one else was around, allowing her to safely whisper his name to him.
"Luka."
She stiffened when she got an immediate response to that, Luka letting out a low humming noise as he shifted. She jolted back, trying to give him space and blushing at the thought that shaking hadn't woken him in the slightest but her voice had immediately.
Luka's eyes opened halfway, staring blankly up at the sky. Brows lowering in confusion, he tried to move, though a whine escaped him when his body protested at the uncomfortable position he'd gotten himself into. He winced, but eased forward and leaned on his guitar for support, only then looking forward and meeting her gaze.
She shifted in place, feeling awkward but knowing that it was too late to back out now.
"...Mmmarinette?" he asked, squinting like he wasn't really sure she was there. He blinked a few times, his eyes widening a fraction when he confirmed that she was real. "Marinette?"
"Ah—hi," she replied, waving awkwardly. "Um, sorry, it was just—I was walking, and I saw you, and you were sleeping weird—not that you sleeping is weird or you look weird when you sleep!—but you seemed really uncomfortable so I just..." She gestured vaguely at his current state of awareness.
He let out a tired sound that may've been an "oh," then ran his fingers into his hair and rustled it, like he was attempting to shake the tiredness out of himself. That done, he managed a small smile at her that didn't stretch anywhere near the amount it usually would. "Thank you. I'm glad you care about me that much."
"Of course I do!" she blurted out, a little offended at the idea that she wouldn't. She realized belatedly how loud she'd been and rubbed an arm in embarrassment, but didn't take anything back either.
Deep down, she knew where he was coming from. It must've been hard for him to watch her ditch him and then deal with her ending their relationship with next to no explanation. Even with the confidence he constantly radiated, not having any information on the 'how's or 'why's must've been difficult, and she hated keeping secrets from him.
Even Chat got better than that...
Luka tilted his head at her, the anxiety probably written all across her face. Concerned, he began to ask, "...Is everything—"
"Luka," she called suddenly, straightening to face him fully. "I—" She swallowed, needing a few seconds to compose herself. "I know this is a bad time, because I'm not really supposed to be here, and you can say 'no,' but... can we talk? About what happened?"
She bit her lip nervously as he sat up, his body noticeably more awake than before. She felt like he deserved to know more about the whole situation, but he also had every right to refuse her for waiting - even if it wasn't that long ago - so the possibilities were nerve-wracking.
Thankfully though, Luka relaxed after a moment, lifting his guitar out of his lap to set it aside, the bottom of the body resting on the deck of the Liberty while the neck was supported by the taffrail. Settling his hands in his lap, he then gave her his full attention, even offering a soft look of reassurance.
Her shoulders eased; he was going to hear her out. Part of her almost felt bad, wondering if maybe he was forcing himself, but she also knew it was important for him to get closure on the matter.
"Okay..." She breathed, acknowledging to herself that she hadn't planned this is the slightest. After some internal debate, she sat down on the deck of the Liberty in lieu of a proper seat, earning a look from Luka but no further comment otherwise. Running her hands along her capris, she stared up at him and finally began, "It—it wasn't you."
He raised a brow, silently encouraging her to go on.
"I mean, maybe you weren't worried about that, but I just... I needed you to know that." She shrugged half-heartedly. "You didn't do anything wrong, Luka - you're amazing - and if it wasn't for me always having to leave and rush off and make you feel bad, I would've stayed with you."
"...Really?"
She blinked at his tone, the corners of her lips quirking up as he covered his mouth, clearly not having intended to blurt that out. She simply nodded at him, falling back into her serious state as she continued, "You deserve someone who can be dedicated to you, and I just—I can't, and I can't tell you why either." She slumped, ashamed at the secret she was forced to keep. "I wish I could. I do trust you, but it's not about that. It's—" She pursed her lips, struggling to find the right words. "—it's not really something I can say?"
She dropped her gaze to her lap, but didn't miss the flicker of understanding in his eyes. It was important to her, for him to know that she believed in him and that he'd done everything right in their relationship.
"...Are—" Luka paused, voice laced with worry. "Marinette, are you being blackmailed or something?"
She almost laughed at that. His deduction wasn't entirely wrong, as "go defend Paris from a supervillain and tell no one about it, and if you do then they might be in danger," certainly did sound like blackmail. Still, she shook her head, reassuring, "It's nothing like that. I'm sorry. I really want to tell you, a-and even be with you, but I can't do either." She clutched at her knees in an attempt to ground herself, glancing back up at him with a mixture of sorrow and guilt. "I don't know what you see in me, Luka, but I feel so lucky that you like me so much, and then unlucky because—" She choked briefly, her cheeks heating up as she realized that she'd never said the exact words to him before. "—because I like you too and I want it to be that simple but it's not. You want the truth and the truth is that I can't tell you no matter how much I want to. I know I forget things and had to skip out on dates because I was so stressed out, but you made everything fun and not stressful and I loved every date we went on until... you know." She gestured wildly to imply 'unsaid things happening.'
He was quiet, not showing any particular reaction, though she'd spent enough time with him to know that he was glad that she was talking more openly about it and clearing some things up that he might've been wondering about. His expression seemed blank on the surface but he was relieved to know something even if her words were pulling his emotions in every direction.
Mentally preparing herself for the next step, Marinette pushed herself up and walked over to him, finding it hard to meet Luka's gaze even as she hunched over and boldly placed her hands on top of his. Out of the corner of her vision, she could see his eyes searching her face, not knowing what to expect next.
"...I'm sorry," she murmured. "I know I apologized already but I'm sorry. I should've known things would end up like this but I wanted to date you anyway. I can't even tell you when this is all going to end so I can't ask you to wait for me either because it's not fair. You deserve a relationship that isn't so complicated... that doesn't involve me."
She flinched at the emotional punch to the gut she'd just given herself. She'd already known that dating would be near-impossible so long as she was Ladybug, but it was a completely different feeling to face Luka and say it to his face. She wasn't sure if she'd been his first crush, but the thought left a bitter taste in her mouth that it'd all gone so wrong and there was no hope of getting it back.
She took another breath to calm herself, slowly raising her hands away from his. "Anyway, that's all I wanted to say," she murmured, still not making eye contact with him. "Thanks for trying to show me a good time, Luka, but... maybe you should fall in love with someone else."
She turned away before her emotions could get the better of her, about to walk off when a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist and jerked her back. She squeaked in surprise, glancing behind her to see that Luka was on the edge of the instrument case, arm stretched out like he'd impulsively hurried to stop her. She opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, but he spoke first.
"Why?"
"W...why?" she echoed.
"Why should I fall for someone else?" he asked, his tone somewhere between hurt and serious.
"Ah." She tilted her head, confused and with no idea of what he was getting at. "Because of everything I said?"
"That you enjoyed our dates? That it wasn't us who cut the song short?" His other hand reached up, holding her hand as well while he looked at her tenderly. His voice grew quiet, like he couldn't believe what he was saying. "That you like me?"
Marinette blushed, but found it hard to look away from him this time. "I...I do like you. Um—only you, but—Luka, the dates..."
Luka slowly stood up, gently squeezing her hand in a show of support. "I didn't even think that I'd be taking up too much of your time, Marinette. I wanted to be together with you, but I didn't want it to be hard either." He offered her a lopsided smile, adding, "And I'm glad you told me, because I don't think you being busy means we can't be together."
"...What?" Marinette gaped at him in disbelief. "I thought you said that you wanted the truth, and—"
"You gave it to me," he reminded her. "You said you can't tell me and I believe you."
She waved her free hand wildly. "Y-yeah, and I'll have to run off and we'll never know when!"
"Then we don't have to date, or we don't have to date as much." He'd said it like it was the simplest thing in the world, and maybe it was. "Why should we be playing sad solos when we can play a happy duet instead?"
She went to retort, but he'd so swiftly shot down her arguments that she was left speechless. She hadn't even considered that - trying to compromise with him on their dates - because she thought she wouldn't be worth it for him, yet here he was, offering himself to her again now that everything had been laid out for him. It seemed too good to be true, but...
He was her Second Chance, and every moment she spent with him just reaffirmed why she'd adored being given that chance in the first place.
She made a small noise as she tried to hold back emotion, her hand shaking in his. "You want me that much?"
His smile grew wider and more genuine, clearly recognizing that she was about to accept him. "Yeah. Do you want me too?"
Afraid her voice might crack and ruin the moment, she nodded and turned fully towards him. She held out her other hand for him and he took it happily, both of them able to enjoy each other's company once more.
Once things had properly settled down, she held back a shy giggle and asked, "S-so, do we just... pick up where we left off? Or just—before everything started going wrong?"
He hummed, seeming to honestly think about it. "I guess so. What verse do you want to start from?"
She retraced all of the bad dates in her mind, like she were rewinding a movie. One moment in particular stuck out to her, and she tried not to grin too much as she suggested, "The cinema? After I gave you the necklace?"
She didn't have to clarify any further, his eyes lighting up in remembrance. He grinned and leaned down to be closer to her level, her getting up on her tiptoes to meet him halfway in a kiss, thus finishing what they'd started from what felt like forever ago. She could feel Luka's hands caressing hers, as if to reassure that everything was alright and he was happy.
She waited until the kiss broke apart, then looked at him to ask teasingly, "Better than setting up a whole date to do that?"
He pressed his forehead to hers, sighing happily. "Definitely."
She beamed at him, almost tempted to kiss him again before she remembered what time it was. She gasped, inadvertently surprising him with the sound, then recoiled and placed her hands firmly on his shoulders, sitting him back down on the instrument case.
"You need to sleep!" she told him, then corrected a second later, "But—not here! Not right here anyway! It needs to be in a bed! Your bed!"
He laughed at the abrupt shift in tone, but nodded obediently at her, resting his fingers along her wrists. "I will. You'll sleep too, right?"
She nodded back, her heart skipping a beat at his care for her. "Yeah, I promise."
Her hands lingered on him, as did his with her as she pulled away from him. As much as she would've liked to stay with him, it was late and she still had a lot to take care of.
Rushing across the gangplank, she waited until she was safely on the other side so she wouldn't risk tripping as she turned to face him, walking backward and waving excitedly. "Bye, Luka!"
He suppressed a chuckle at the happiness-induced loudness of her voice, then waved back at her. It was only when he got up to take his guitar inside that she finally turned around and started officially heading home.
—————
When the last of the Adrien photos had been shoved into her trash bin - even the ones on her corkboard - Marinette allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief and collapse into her chair. It'd taken a little longer than she'd thought, but she was still satisfied with the change. The walk home and conversation with Luka had brought all of her thoughts together and made her feel optimistic about how the day had gone.
"Marinette?" Tikki looked up from the chocolate chip she'd been nibbling on, her being the only kwami awake at that hour. Voicing the inevitable, she asked, "What are you going to do about the cat miraculous?"
Marinette turned, acknowledging her, then reached into her purse to pull out the ring in question, turning it a few times in her hands. It was weird having it in her possession while she still had the ladybug earrings on, but it wouldn't stick around for long anyway, so she wasn't concerned.
Tikki continued, an urgency in her voice, "You're Ladybug, and you're not supposed to know anyone's identities, but you're also the guardian now, so you're supposed to give out miraculouses and know everyone's identities!"
Marinette, much to Tikki's apparent surprise, flashed her a smile and held the ring up confidently. "That's exactly why you're going to pick the next cat, Tikki."
Tikki blanked, dropping the chocolate chip in shock. "Wh—me?" Her voice squeaked. "Why me?"
Marinette would be lying if she said that she didn't find some amusement in Tikki's befuddlement. With a bit of effort, she pushed herself up from her seat, setting the ring down on the table and walking towards the sink at the other side of the room. "Because you've been with every ladybug who's ever existed, which means that you've known every ladybug and cat duo that's ever existed." Giving Tikki an expectant look, she added, "If anyone knows what kind of cat I'd need as a partner, it's you."
"But—" Tikki floundered, the thought clearly having never occurred to her. "It's the guardian who has to hand out miraculouses!"
"I won't know the new cat's identity this way," Marinette reminded her, idly tracing her fingertips along the sink's edge. "Sure, it'll be someone we both know, but if I didn't figure out that Adrien is Chat Noir until I tried, then I won't figure out this one either."
Her eyes scanned over the various drawers in her reach and she pulled open one in particular, a small box jerking forward from the momentum. It was the same box that held her ladybug earrings all those months ago, and now it would be the box for the new cat as well.
Holding the box to her chest and silently wishing luck upon it, Marinette returned to her table to see Tikki staring quietly at the ring in thought, apparently still processing what she'd been told. Marinette paid her no mind for the moment, setting the box down and searching various other drawers for a white cloth big enough for the box to be wrapped in. Then, once she'd successfully found one, she laid it out neatly on the table and opened the box to place the ring inside.
The moving of the ring snapped Tikki out of whatever trance she'd been in. She flew up, clinging to Marinette's hand and begging, "Wait! At least tell me what you'd want in a cat!"
Marinette supposed that was a win, since Tikki wasn't outright rejecting the idea and had little argument against it. She dropped the ring inside the box and smiled at the gentle 'click' it made when she closed it, then turned to address Tikki. The nervousness on display made a modicum of sense when considering that kwami were supposed to obey the guardian, so being told to do what they wanted was probably a little strange.
Marinette just took it in stride. She leaned against her chair as she considered her ideal cat, having been so used to Chat Noir that she needed a minute to imagine someone who really matched her.
"Thoughtful," she answered, nearly blurting the word out when it finally came to her. "Someone who thinks the way I do so I'm not doing everything myself. They can be selfless, but they have to have limits, and with good instincts so they won't throw themselves in front of me." Her expression growing fond at the idea of such a partner, she took the cloth and wrapped the box in it, sealing it with a strong knot as she added, "And... they have to be understanding, where I can cover for them and they can cover for me and we'll just—click."
She snapped her fingers for effect, watching as Tikki flew over to the wrapped-up box and tested it to ensure it was safe to carry. While she was tugging at the knot to confirm it was tight enough, Marinette stood and headed up the stairs to her bed, opening the way to her balcony so Tikki had a way out.
By the time Marinette peeked over the bed to check on Tikki, Tikki had already taken hold of the cloth and flew up to be eye level with her, the box being a noticeable yet manageable weight. Marinette moved to the side, allowing the straight-faced Tikki to go past her and go up to the balcony.
Thinking that Tikki had already gone, Marinette was about to close the trapdoor when she heard a soft, "Marinette?"
Her head turned to see Tikki, hovering above the little table with the box still held in her paws. She seemed conflicted, like she was struggling to find words, but eventually settled on, "You're a great guardian."
And with that, she left, Marinette blinking in surprise for a moment before a smile formed on her face. She closed the way to her balcony, then slipped back down the stairs to start getting ready for bed.
At the same time she'd be settling in to sleep that night, her tiny Miracle Box would be set down delicately in the Liberty, specifically on Luka Couffaine’s amp.
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hops-hunny · 3 years
Text
When He Sees Me
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Pairing: Fred Weasley x Chubby!Reader
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 4.3k
Request: N/A
Summary:(Y/n) always thought she was too rational for love, until she wasn’t. (Based off of the song When He Sees Me from Waitress)
Warnings: Slight negative thoughts and angst but vast majority fluff and pining! Oh and positive use of the word fat.
A/N:  Fred is a little OOC in this?? But I honestly just imagine him as the type of guy to be sorta whipped if he really falls for someone.
I stick with real things
Usually facts and figures
When information's in its place
I minimize the guessing game
(Y/n) had always been a rational girl. In her younger years at Hogwarts, as all her friends began to giggle and blush at their crushes, she kept her nose in her books. Although she was curious of what they were experiencing, the thought never lasted long in her mind due to what her mother had told her from a young age.
(Y/n) was about the age of 6, sitting on the floor near the couch as she colored humming to herself softly. She had noticed her mom was in a bad mood due to her being sprawled out on the couch many upon many empty bottles of alcohol littered the table. She wasn’t sure why her mother was so upset but ever since they had seen her father at the park with her babysitter last week her mom had been in this mood and her father hadn’t been back.
“(Y/n) dear, promise me something.” her mother muttered to her half asleep. The girl turned around smiling at her mom. Her mom gave her a weak smile back as she pet the top of the girls head. “Never give your heart to a man. He’ll only leave it in pieces.”
At the time, the girl obviously had no clue what she meant but the older she got and the more she saw the people in her life get their hearts broken time and time again she had developed a clue. So, she simply focused on anything that wasn’t romance. School, plants, knitting, you name it and that’s what she gave her attention to. Even though it wasn’t a conscious action, it still affected her deeply.
I don't like guessing games
Or when I feel things
Before I know the feelings
How am I supposed to operate
If I'm just tossed around by fate?
Like on an unexpected date?
Although her friends described it to her many upon many of times, she still found herself absolutely clueless of what feelings of love was like. That's why when she saw him, she was confused by what was happening.
“Oh he’s simply lovely! He does this funny little things with his hands where-” Although (Y/n) was focused on her coursework, she was still listening to Diane as usual. She liked to listen to her friends retelling of experiences with lovers, soaking it in like a cheesy romance movie. She looked out the window needing a quick break from her work. Her breath hitched quietly as she placed a soft chubby hand over her heart feeling as it raced wildly in the chamber of her chest. Her body had a tingling sensation all over that she had never felt before as she felt herself get dizzy.
“W-who’s that?” she said in an airy tone, causing her friend to follow her gaze. There he stood, laughing and joking around with his friends pushing each other around. His ginger locks blew in the wind slightly and his skin glowed in the soft afternoon sun. 
“You mean you don’t know who that is? That’s Fred weasley! He’s like one of the most popular guys in our year. I can’t believe you just asked that.” She snickered some, teasing her friend. She stopped once she noticed the girl who was usually quick to snap back was unusually quiet. She smiled softly at her expression, noticing that look in her eyes. Whether (Y/n) knew it or not yet, she was absolutely enamoured with none other than Fred Weasley.
“I don’t like him. He makes me feel funny.” she said, however the way she looked out the window still said otherwise.
“Funny how?”
“I don’t know, just funny.”
“Like laugh funny or like funny funny?”
“Obviously not laugh funny, are you an idiot?” She asked, glaring at her blonde friend. She looked out the window once more. She noticed him look back causing her to gasp, eyes wide with shock. He winked at her causing her to scoff, pick her things up before shutting the library blinds and run off to who knows where.
Diane laughed to herself as she began to pack her own stuff up to go after her friend. She sighed before running quickly out the library to catch up.
“Ah, young love!”
-------------------------------------
With a stranger who might talk too fast
Or ask me questions about myself
Before I've decided that
He can ask me questions about myself
He might sit too close
Or call the waiter by his first name
Or eat Oreos
But eat the cookie before the cream?
“For the last time Diane, I’m not talking to him!” she said, slamming her book closed as she tossed it on the table in front of her. Her, Diane and a few of her other friends found themselves in the common room as they usually did on friday nights talking and gossiping about anything that came to mind. Today’s topic of discussion was the girl’s apparent “crush” as they called it. Considering she had nothing to base off of whether that’s what the funny feeling she had mentioned earlier in the week was, she decided to trust her friends in them saying that’s what it was.
“What? Oh come on, give me one good reason why you won’t.” Molly said, facing her friend her sharp green eyes boring into (Y/n)’s (e/c) ones. 
“Oh I can give you a PLETHORA of reasons why not!” the (y/h/h) girl exclaimed as she stood up. She began to pace, trying to rack her brain for good reasons on why not. “Aha! What if he butters both sides of his toast? Or-or what if he asks me too many questions on why I’m talking to him? Or if he’s as popular and well known as you say, what if he takes that as an excuse to ignore personal space boundaries and gets handsy?” 
“He’s a teenage boy, not a serial killer. Someone’s been watching too much muggle crime specials.” Molly said as she rolled her eyes, sighing as she leaned back into the couch. (Y/n) glared at her friend, letting out an exasperated sigh as she facepalmed. It wasn’t like she didn’t wanna do anything about these feelings. She most certainly did. Whatever would get rid of them the quickest is the route she wanted to take.
“Well, you could always let him know another way!” Ronnie said as they looked up at their friend. “You’ve got so many skills and talents, why not take advantage of it?” Although Ronnie wasn’t very talkative, whenever they opened their mouth they always said something that made perfect sense.
“As per usual Ronnie, you’re the voice of reason. Merlin bless Ronnie for all of eternity!” (Y/n) exclaimed dramatically as she got on her knees, pretending to worship her friend like a god. 
--------------------------
(Y/n) had been doing just that, making herself known to Fred without making herself known. The (y/h/h) girl had wanted to be anonymous about it, leaving things without her name however Diane pointed out the fact that (Y/n) had “the presence of a ghost” and that “even ghost had more of a presence then her” which meant that even if she did attach her name to the things left Fred would have no idea who it was. Because to be frank (Y/n) was, well, a nobody. 
She noticed this little ‘talent’(if you could even call it that) first year when her teachers would mark her as absent despite her being in the front row of the class and having some of the highest marks. She seemed to fly by unnoticed by all but her small group of friends which they all found funny, especially with Diane being one of the most popular girls in their grade if not all of Hogwarts. 
So, she started off small. She’d leave little notes for him in places she knew he’d find them, usually his first or last class of the day, and his seat in the great hall. She would watch him as he’d read them, flushing sometimes as he read them. However, his usual response was to read them out loud to George, bragging about how a pretty girl was leaving him notes.
“Ah listen to this one, Georgie! ‘Here’s a quidditch tip for you Fred. I noticed that when you’re on your broom you have a habit of going to the right which is why you often get stopped. Try switching it up sometimes! However, that’s not the only thing I’ve noticed. Somehow despite being in that dorky quidditch outfit, you still look just as fit as usual. Yours truly, (Y/n).’” He smirked at that part, a chorus of ‘ooo’s from his friends.
“Although she may be blind to say that, she does know her quidditch! Sounds like a catch if you ask me. I’m surprised she didn’t go for me, the better twin.” George said, choking on his toast as Fred smacked him on the back of the head.
Diane nudged her friend, glancing at her. She laughed as she saw her friend’s round face buried in a book to hide the overwhelming amount of shyness that was overcoming her. Even though this had become a regular thing, she still couldn’t stop the way her heart would race every time Fred would read one of the letters aloud. 
To avoid the notes becoming repetitive, she started to switch it up every once in a while. Baked goods, hand knitted scarfs and gloves, even flowers with meanings behind them made their way into Fred’s ownership. However, the more things he got the more not only him but other people became curious. Who was (Y/n) (L/n)?
But what scares me the most
What scares me the most
Is what if when he sees me, what if he doesn't like it?
What if he runs the other way and I can't hide from it?
What happens then?
If when he knows me, he's only disappointed?
What if I give myself away, to only get it given back?
I couldn't live with that
Molly was currently trying to catch up to her soft friend, a sympathetic look on her face. “Why not? I think you should just go up to him and tell him! So many other girls have tried, claiming to be you.” she said, catching the other girl’s attention. She bumped into her as the (h/c) girl abruptly stopped. She turned to look at her friend with tears in her eyes causing her to look down at her agape.
“Do you wanna know why I haven’t just gone up to him yet? Do you really?” She said above a whisper as she looked up at her tall friend, silent tears making their way down her cheeks. “It scares me. It scares me even fucking more than what I feel for him does. Fred is just so..he’s funny, talented, popular. Who wouldn’t want him?” she choked out, looking away. “What if when he sees me, he doesn’t like me? Whenever he reads my notes or gets one of my gifts he always mentions how beautiful (Y/n) must be.”
“(Y/n)...”
“Let me finish Molly. When he says that, he probably means some tall leggy blonde like Diane. I’m just me.” she lets out a dry chuckle, sniffing as she wipes at the tears streaming. “Sure, I find me beautiful, you guys find me beautiful, but the world doesn’t. I don’t look like anyone he’s ever been with before. Fred is always surrounded by tons of gorgeous women. If he saw me, he’d only be disappointed. If I gave myself to him and he rejected me, I couldn’t live with that. Now I see what my mom was talking about.” she said as she walked off leaving Molly confused by the last part of her statement. She frowned hearing her friend’s words but she knew her better than to chase after her when she was upset. She turned the other way, walking quickly in hopes she’d make it to her lecture not too late. However, a flash of red hair out of the corner of her eye didn’t go unnoticed but it did slip her mind when she saw her friend later.
So, I'm just fine, inside my shell-shaped mind
This way I get the best view
So that when he sees me, I want him to
(Y/n) sat in the library at a table by herself. It was a friday, usually she’d spend this time with her friends in the commons. However, after the never ending pestering to just talk to him, to face him she told them she wasn’t feeling well and that she’d be retiring early. It wasn’t a lie, she had completely planned on getting some much needed rest but as she lay in bed tossing and turning her restlessness turned into frustration leading her to read a bit to clear her mind. Reading was what she enjoyed doing when she wanted to clear her mind or simply escape the insufferable reality she was living in. But after she found herself reading the first line to chapter three 10 times she placed her bookmark between her pages, looking out the window.
It was if the universe was taunting her from the sight in front of her. There he stood, talking to another girl from their year. She couldn’t recall the girls name but it wasn’t that important, she was beautiful. She sighed as Fred laughed at something the girl said, patting her head before walking away. ‘It’s better this way. He can’t see you which means he can’t reject you which means you won’t get hurt’ is what she kept telling herself. However if that was the truth, then why did she feel so empty inside?
-----------------------
(Y/n) laughed along with her friends as they sat in the empty common room. Everyone from their house was Merlin knows where at this time as they all shared their intimate horror stories.
“Oh come on, that did NOT happen.” she said through laughs, eating another chocolate from the box on the table. Her cheeks hurt from the amount she had been laughing. Diane was in the midst of telling what happened during her recent sexual endeavor with some guy from her herbology class.
“I swear he did! His face was green and everything! Next thing I know he was blowing chunks off the side of the bed. I offered to take him to the infirmary but he didn’t hear me through his tears so I just made my exit as swift as possible!” she said laughing as well, face red from how much she had laughed through the telling of the story. They all continued to howl with laughter, someone else’s laughing triggering someone else to laugh even more. (Y/n) was the laugh one left laughing as her friends all began to grow quiet. 
“G-guys? Why’d you stop? Who’s next?” she said, looking at Molly who was on her left and Ronnie who was on her right. 
“Um, don’t look how (Y/n) but Fred Weasley is coming this way.” Diane said, causing the girl to stop breathing briefly.
“W-what?!” she whispered loudly, eyes growing wide.
“Yeah and um don’t freak out, but he’s looking directly at you. No pressure though!” Molly said, giving her a rough pat on her back as she offered the girl a smile. The (h/c) haired girl glared up at her. As Fred grew closer, their voices grew quieter.
“Why wouldn’t that make me nervous?!” she said through gritted teeth as she pulled on Molly’s curls causing the girl to let out a quick ‘ow!’. She chuckled nervously. “Well, we have nothing to worry about! It’s not like he knows who I am!” she said as she relaxed some, closing her eyes as she leaned back. She heard footsteps stop in front of her causing her eyes to shoot open as she looked at the ground. Huh. Those shoes didn’t look like Ronnie’s shoes. Matter of fact, they didn’t look like Diane’s either. Or Mo- oh no. She looked up, arms folded across her abdomen self consciously as she looked up at the man in front of her. She couldn’t help but take in his appearance.
He was in a white shirt, some spots see through from what she assumed was a mix of sweat and water. His flaming hair was mostly dry but damp in some spots and he adorned a pair of sweatpants that made him look quite godly in her opinion. If she had to guess, he had just gotten back from quidditch practice. It was weird for her to be this close to him intentionally. The only time she found herself close to Fred was when they’d walk past each other in the hall or when their classes would go by each other due to a required location change for the lesson. Therefore she had never been able to see the freckles on his knuckles, the barely noticeable acne scars that adorned his forehead, or even the way his Irish spring’s shower gel smelled oh so heavenly.
“I’ve been all around the castle for weeks, months even. I think the main reason it took me so long was not only the fact that I haven’t really seen you up close before, but all the other birds claiming to be you. It was like that one muggle film, what’s it called? Cinderfeller?” he pondered for a moment looking off.
“I-it’s Cinderella.” Ronnie chimed in, giving him an awkward smile. They were all quite stunned. Although they all knew that this wild goose chase couldn’t go on forever, they didn’t expect it to be Fred of all people to approach first. They were sure (Y/n) would reveal herself on her own time but it seemed that they weren’t the only one’s getting impatient with the girl’s excuses and whys.
“Right, thank you. So I set off, making a list of every girl in our year in the castle- with the help of George and Dean of course- and we spoke to quite literally all of them. It was easy to weed out the fakes because they couldn’t answer questions related to some of the gifts I had received. So by the process of elimination that leaves you, love. Are you (Y/n)?” He said, crouching down to her level. As hues of brown met hues of (e/c) it was much too intimate for the girl to handle. She sat there, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“W-well I am a (Y/n). I’m sure there’s plenty of others in the castle!” she retorted letting out a forced laugh, wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt. Was the common room always this warm? 
“If I recall correctly, weren’t you bragging the other day about being the only (Y/n) in the castle? You said and I quot-” a quick stomp of (Y/n)’s foot on Diane’s caused the blonde to quickly stop whatever she was in the middle of saying. Fred looked down at the (h/c) hair girl with a quirked brow and knowing smirk. She was caught red handed. Without another word, he quickly pulled her off the couch with ease, dragging her along with him. She tried protesting and looking at her friends for help but they all simply waved and smiled at her, making kissy faces and noises. ‘Idiots’ she thought as she rolled her eyes. Fred continued to guide her, the path to where they were going looking awfully familiar until they arrived at the astronomy tour.
“Listen Fred, I just wanna say I’m sorry. I know you were probably expecting (Y/n) to be someone who looks like Diane, or hell, even Molly’s dumbass but I’m not. I’m just me.” She began as she walked to the edge, looking off the balcony. “I know now that you’ve seen me you’re probably disappointed. I’ve seen the girls you hang around all the time and they’re bloody gorgeous and-”
“So are you.” he whispered, causing her to whip her head around quickly.
“Pardon?” she responded with glassy eyes. The girl wasn’t too sure why her eyes began to water from three simple words. They weren’t the usual three words that cause or evoke such an emotional response but they felt like the missing piece of a puzzle. Her eyes followed the lanky guy as he walked over to her, tucking a few pieces of hair behind her ear as he interlocked their hands. Long, skinny and defined calloused hands meeting her soft thicker but smaller ones.
“So. Are. You. Beauty is such a fluid thing. There’s no one way to be beautiful, lovely. Museums have many unique and beautiful forms of art and so does life.” He let his hands wander on her sides, gliding up and down her love handles, waist, and hips. He took one of his hands to tilt her head up oh so gently. “If you were a sculpture, you’d be made of the finest of marble by the most talented of sculptors. Hell, if I wasn’t so bloody bad with art I’d sculpt you myself but I don’t think I’d be doing you much justice. It’d be a monstrosity.” he said, shuddering at the idea of him doing anything art related. (Y/n) found herself giggling at that.
“If only you applied this verbiage to your coursework. Perhaps you’d actually be doing decent.” she remarked as she continued to laugh. Fred gasped a bit before joining in as well with his own laughter. As the laughter died down, he lifted a hand caressing her cheek, thumb sweeping across the smooth skin. She found his eyes to see they were filled with adoration. “Fred Weasley, are you whipped for me?” she spoke softly as if she had said it any louder, that he’d simply disappear.
“I have been since the first time I saw you.” He responded, his own cheeks flushing a bit with a light crimson. She looked at him puzzled a bit before her eyes widened slightly.
“You remember that? That was months ago!” she noted. He grinned at that, pulling her closer.
“Of course I do. Imagine my delight when I found out that beautiful girl who slammed the blinds shut on me happened to be the girl my heart was slowly going out to with every note and kind gesture you sent my way. Merlin is definitely on my side.  Although I must be honest,” he looked away for a bit before lookin back at her. “The list was a huge help, but I also couldn’t help but overhear your conversation in the hallway that day. However I knew then wasn’t the right time to approach you, I assumed you would’ve just been more upset over the fact I was eavesdropping a bit.” he mumbled. She opened her mouth to question what conversation before she recalled what she had said to Molly that day in the hallway.
“Let me finish Molly. When he says that, he probably means some tall leggy blonde like Diane. I’m just me.” she lets out a dry chuckle, sniffing as she wipes at the tears streaming. “Sure, I find me beautiful, you guys find me beautiful, but the world doesn’t. I don’t look like anyone he’s ever been with before. Fred is always surrounded by tons of gorgeous women. If he saw me, he’d only be disappointed. If I gave myself to him and he rejected me, I couldn’t live with myself. Now I see what my mom was talking about.”
“Hearing you speak so lowly about yourself upset me quite a bit. I wanted to plan out what I was going to say a bit more and also make sure it was actually you.”
“I’m sorry you had to hear me say those things about myself. I usually don’t say such things like that, I’m very confident in the way I look. To me, fat and ugly aren’t synonymous but I know everyone isn’t so open minded.” she admitted, dropping her gaze to the ground. “I’m also new to this whole feelings thing. You’re the first guy I’ve ever had feelings for.”
Now, it was Fred’s turn to become speechless. He couldn’t believe his ears, he had the honor, no, the privilege of being the first guy to be such a sublime goddess of a woman? He felt his ears heat up and he knew he had to look absolutely ridiculous. “I don’t blame you, I am one hell of a guy!” He said, flexing his arms as he flashed her a cheeky grin. (Y/n) scoffed some, shoving him away as she rolled her eyes playfully. She pondered for a second before standing on her tippy toes planting a kiss on his cheek...or at least that’s what she had planned. Fred being Fred turned his head last moment wrapping his arms around her waist as he pressed his lips into hers. She gasped softly, chills running up her spine again as her body tensed.
Even this was her first time having a kiss, she could tell this was a feeling she’d be craving nonstop. (Y/n) wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling Fred down to her height. The ginger boy smirked into the kiss, trailing his hands all along her soft frame practically melting at the feeling. His hands snaked their way down to her ass, cupping the pillowy flesh between his large hands causing the (y/h/h) to moan softly. The Gryffindor pulled away, biting and pulling her bottom lip along with him.
“So, I have a question for you then…”He started, pressing his forehead against hers. She felt the warmth of his minty breathe hit her face as she looked into his eyes expectantly. “Do I really have a tendency to go to the right when I play quidditch? Because in my opinio-”
“Fred! Really?!”
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hangovercurse · 3 years
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I’d Drop it All for You
Pictures of you and Pete are spread all over the internet, causing a whirlwind of hate to enter your social media.
Request: “Pete content please! anything !!! smut fluff whatever”
Pete x Reader
Warnings: Cursing, depictions of depression and anxiety
A/N: *Insert normal spiel about respecting A.G. and only using her for plot purposes. No harm intended.* Also I wrote most of this after a meeting with my therapist so... enjoy :) (He’s so cute in this gif I wanna kiss his face)
Word Count: 1820
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You weren’t one of those people who loved being the center of attention. You knew that being in the spotlight also meant constantly living under a microscope, and you decided a long time ago that that was not for you.
But you were lucky enough to work as an assistant art director at just 24. You were hoping that The King of Staten Island, your newest project, would help get your name out into the professional world. But that wasn’t the only thing to come out of the film.
It happened unexpectedly, you showed up on set the first day, ready to do whatever the art director required of you. You couldn’t help but be slightly distracted by the lead actor and writer, Pete Davidson. He was so kind and funny, and he wasn’t uptight like everyone else.
After a few hours of filming, he came up to you, introducing himself. He said he “wanted to get to know everyone working on the project,” but you didn’t see him introducing himself to anyone else. You two started talking during breaks. Then he started sitting with you at lunch. Then he was asking for your number.
In a matter of weeks he was asking you out to dinner, taking you to a cozy restaurant that you absolutely adored. He walked you home, his hand grazing yours until you intertwined your fingers.
It was all very romantic, so when Pete asked if he could take you on another, you obviously said yes. Flash forward two weeks and he finally got the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, even though you were both exclusively seeing each other already.
After filming ended 2 months later, you were still working on the film in post, which meant you had an excuse to stay  in Staten Island with Pete. After about 2 weeks in post, you spent more nights in his bed than your hotel’s.
Nearly 6 months later and you were happier than ever. You were splitting your time between your small apartment in the Bronx and Pete’s basement apartment. Pete introduced you to most of his friends, and you introduced him to yours.
But other than your small circles of friends, you kept your relationship fairly quiet. Pete doesn’t have social media and yours is strictly professional, so there are no pictures of you two together. You weren’t hiding each other, you loved each other, you just had no reason to tell tabloids. And you were perfectly happy with that.
Which made it so much worse when various news sites had pictures of you two holding hands. Had they been anyone else you would’ve thought they were cute, walking along the South Beach oceanside at night.
Pete had been in the SNL studio all day when the pictures were released, while you were in his apartment, trying your best to focus on the photoset in front of you. The production team wanted the film to scream “teen romance,” which basically entails subtle pink undertones and a higher saturation. But you couldn’t quite get the coloring right, probably because you weren’t actually focusing on the colors.
You sighed, looking at the time and realizing that Pete won’t be back until sometime after 2am, which was a whole 5 hours away. You let out a huff, pushing away from the desk and making your way to Pete’s closet and searching for one of his hoodies. They always smelled like him (and weed), so it was a comfort to you.
You crashed onto the bed, finding the phone that you had tossed there a few hours earlier. Turning it on you were surprised by the number of notifications you were getting. You knew the photos had surfaced but you weren’t expecting this.
Your Instagram was blowing up with new follows, likes, and comments. It was kind of exciting at first until you started reading some of the comments.
I mean, we knew he would downgrade from Ari, but this is like… really far down.
This girl really thinks she’s special just bc Pete’s dating her. Hun he could do so much better
Who is she?!? Literally no one.
Someone needs to show her how to dress
That hairstyle is not it honey
Pete Davidson is dating YOU??? He could do sooo much better
Ari was prettier sorry not sorry
The entire comment section on your last post, a picture of you on the set of your latest film, was pretty much the same. There were some nice comments, but a lot of mean ones.
And you couldn’t help it, you couldn’t stop looking at them. It felt so cliché, but it was like all of your deepest insecurities about being with Pete were thrown out on the table.
You knew that Pete had a fairly large following, and that a lot of people had really strong feelings about him. You had expected that if and when your relationship went public you would have a lot of people watching you, scrutinizing you. But you didn’t care because Pete was worth it.
Now you weren’t so sure. It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle people talking bad about you, because you definitely could, even if it hurt. You just weren’t expecting the amount of people comparing you to Ariana or saying that Pete could do so much better.
And it only bothered you so much because you felt it too. Your inner demons loved to remind you that Pete had dated Ariana fucking Grande and now he’s dating you. Anyone could see an obvious downgrade.
You turned your phone off and threw it on the opposite side of the bed, trying to think positive thoughts. “I am in control of my own thoughts and emotions. I am catching my negative thoughts and fixing them.” You murmured your therapist’s mantra to yourself, but it was too late. The thoughts had already taken hold of your mind.
Your eyes started to water as you could feel the heavy feeling in your chest set in. You pulled the hood over your head, pulling the straps to hide as much of your face as possible, and pulling your knees to your chest. You laid like that for a while, tears falling as doubts ran through your head. Once you had effectively exhausted your thoughts, you went numb. Your tears had stopped, but you couldn’t move. This wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but it sure wasn’t pleasurable.
There was a sort of buzzing throughout your body, almost like the feeling when your foot falls asleep, but everywhere. It seemed to block out your sound, as you didn’t hear the basement door open. You only knew that Pete was home when he sat beside you on the bed, pulling the hood off your face.
“There’s my beautiful girl.” He smiled at you. You tried your best to fake one back, but you honestly couldn’t find the energy. Pete pulled you so you were sitting up, back pressed against his front. His arms wrapped around your middle as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “What’s goin on?” He murmured against your skin.
“Did you see them?” You asked, your voice quiet and hoarse.
Pete let out a sigh, “Yeah, I saw them.” He paused, his hold on you getting tighter, like he was making sure you couldn’t leave. “I’m sorry baby. I know you didn’t want it to be a whole big thing.”
You turned your head to face him, “It’s not that. I really don’t mind that people know. We weren’t trying to hide anything.”
He smiled, “Yeah, I know I just- it was nice having this to ourselves.”
He wanted to hide you. He’s embarrassed of you.
Your inner dialogue never seemed to shut up.
You turned away from Pete, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes. “Yeah.” You whispered.
“What’s wrong, you’re still upset.” He rocked you in his arms, kissing the top of your head. You shrugged in response, not trusting yourself to talk. “You can talk to me, y’know.”
You nodded, leaning further into Pete’s chest. “People found my Instagram.” You murmured, looking down and tracing the arrow tattoo on his hand.
“Whaddya mean? I thought it was public?” He furrowed his eyebrows.
You sighed, wishing you hadn’t said anything. “Yeah, it is. But after all the articles people started following me and shit.”
“I would ask how that’s a problem but I deleted my Instagram so I can’t really talk.” You could tell he was trying to make you feel better, but you couldn’t seem to get out of your haze.
You shook your head, deciding to drop the matter. “It’s not, I’m just being overdramatic.” You sighed, putting on a fake smile and facing him fully. “Wanna watch a movie?” You asked, trying to change the topic.
He gave you the I-know-you’re-bullshitting-me look, which made you look down. “Something’s bothering you, Y/N. And you’re trying to pretend it doesn’t because you think your feelings aren’t valid, but they are.” He tilted his head, trying to meet your eyes that were still trained on the bedsheets below you.
“Where’d you learn that one?” You chuckled half-heartedly.
“Rehab part 2” he smiled, hand coming to your jaw to tilt your head up. “C’mon, talk to me. I wanna help.”
You huffed, moving towards the opposite side of the bed where your phone laid. You opened it, finding your Instagram, and showing him the comments. His eyebrows furrowed as he scrolled through the comments. When he decided he’d had enough he put your phone down, grabbing your waist and lifting you onto his lap so you were essentially straddling him.
He leaned his forehead against your own, your noses touching. “That’s all bullshit, you know that, right?”
You looked down, biting your lip. “Y/N you’re the most amazing, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, okay? I’m in love with you, not anyone else.” Pete’s eyes were searching yours, trying to figure out what was going on in your head.
“I know.” You sighed, “It’s just hard to be with you and not compare myself to her. And then all these people started to do it too, and they kept saying that you could do so much better and you can. So, I dunno I guess I just kind of spiraled.”
Pete captured your lips in a long, passionate kiss. “Y/N. There is literally no better than you. I can’t do better because you are the best woman I have ever loved. “
You pulled Pete in for another kiss. “Thank you, Pete. I love you.”
“I love you too. If this happens again, I want you to call me. I don’t care what I’m doing, I’d drop it all for you.” You smiled, sitting in the arms of the guy you loved. The thoughts didn’t just magically go away, but for a brief moment in time, you were happy.
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Who Cares What They Think?
Pairing: Duff McKagan x Reader
A/N: Duff is older in this fic so keep that in mind when reading!!
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yikes
I’m a big fan of duff but this relationship is just weird
Jailbait!!
Why do old rockstars always go for someone so much younger???
 These were just a few of the hundreds of comments Duff saw as he scrolled through the comments on his latest Instagram post, the post where he had announced his relationship with you to his fans and followers.
He sighed, disappointed but not surprised by the reaction the post had gotten. The picture was beautiful, a cute photograph of the two of you at a picnic date with you hugging him from behind and him turning his head to the side to give you a kiss on the cheek. The caption was sweet too- just a simple ‘I love you’ confirming the rumors around your relationship. It seemed people just took issue with the couple. There was no question as to why. It was because of your age difference.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, slipping into the room and taking a seat next your boyfriend.
Duff hurriedly put his phone away and forced a smile to his face, wrapping an arm around you as you snuggled into his side.
“Nothing,” he replied, trying to appear nonchalant.
“Bullshit,” you said. “I can read you like a book, McKagan. Spill.”
Duff huffed out a tiny laugh at your ability to see through his charade so well and his fake smile fell.
“You really don’t have to worry,” he said.
He didn’t want to tell you what was bothering him because he didn’t want you getting upset by the comments either. He had no idea whether you had seen any of them or not, but in case you hadn’t he would like to keep it that way. And he especially didn’t want to be the person to bring that kind of hate to your attention. It would no doubt hurt your feelings.
“Just tell me,” you pressed. “I want to know what has you so bothered.”
“It’s stupid really, not a big deal,” he said.
“Duff,” you said. “Please just tell me.”
“Fine,” he relented with a sigh, knowing you wouldn’t let this go so easily. “It’s just about that thing I posted to Instagram last night.”
You furrowed your eyebrows.
“What about it?” you asked.
You had absolutely loved the picture he had posted and were even more thrilled you two were at a place where you were ready to share your relationship with the world. You couldn’t have been happier with the post.
“It’s received some negative comments,” he mumbled, almost feeling a bit stupid for getting upset over internet hate.
“Oh,” you said. “I hadn’t noticed. What are people saying?”
Duff ducked his head, and you were shocked to see him look a little embarrassed.
“They say I’m too old for you, that I could be your dad. They’re saying it’s gross- that I’m gross for dating you, and I just-”
“Duff,” you interrupted, cutting him off, “Are you seriously listening to all that crap?”
Duff frowned.
“But is it crap?” he asked you.
“Of course it is!” you said. “You can’t seriously think some strangers on the internet can even begin to know anything about our relationship, can you? They don’t know me or you and they sure as hell don’t know what we’re like together.”
It hurt your heart to know that your boyfriend was so upset and hurt over a few comments online. They must have really gotten to him.
“There’s nothing gross about our relationship. We are two happy, consenting, and in love adults who happen to have more than a couple years between them in age. It’s not even that big of age-gap considering some relationships!”
“I know,” Duff said, “It just always worries me to see comments like that.”
You were surprised to hear Duff admit this. You had always thought Duff didn’t care what anyone else thought of him. He’d dealt with so much backlash for so many things for so long now, you’d figured it would just roll of his shoulders by now.
“You worry what they think of you?” you asked softly.
Duff shook his head.
“I worry what you think of me,” he answered.
You frowned.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Aren’t you embarrassed of me?” he asked you, voice sounding meek. “Of how much older I am?”
You could practically feel your heart break at his question. You shook your head and took both of his hands in yours.
“Duff,” you said, looking deep into his eyes so he knew you were being completely true with him, “I am so unbelievably proud to call you mine. I love you more than you could ever even know.”
A small smile began to grow on Duff’s face at the sound of your kind and loving confession.
“Really?” he asked coyly.
“Really,” you said, nodding your head in earnest and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “You mean the world to me baby.”
Duff smiled widely now.
“I love you too,” he said, leaning forward to return your kiss with his own.
“Remember that’s all that matters,” you told him. “Who gives a shit what everyone else is saying?”
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