#I’m so mad because I got sick this morning and it ruined my day

[chaotic-minds-think-alike]

Anytime I want to do anything the world has to remind me that I’m ill

[diorsluv]

feather , part 1

“ not another take ”

series m. list next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, markestapa, luca.fantilli, and 78,682 others

yourusername after 19 years of being my brother, jamie still takes the worst photos

view all comments

jamie.drysdale I WAS TAKING 50 PICS PER SECOND.

→ yourusername AND I WASN’T READY FOR ANY OF THEM.

→ jamie.drysdale you’re so ungrateful

→ yourusername love u too

trevorzegras is he ruining your trip?

→ yourusername oh my god he’s been annoying me nonstop for the past theee days

→ jamie.drysdale stop spreading rumors

→ yourusername YOU WOKE ME UP AT FOUR IN THE MORNING TO ASK ME IF I WANTED MCDONALDS FOR LUNCH

→ jamie.drysdale THE EARLY BIRD GETS THE WORM

username4 ur so stunning

username66 MY IDOLLL

markestapa come back to michigan we miss you 😞

→ yourusername YOU miss me????

→ markestapa good lord HE said he misses you a lot

→ yourusername idk who “he” is markie, ur gonna have to specify 🤔🤔

→ edwards.73 he’s WHINING

→ dylanduke25 he just collapsed onto the ground

→ mackie.samo i can hear him crying from the other side of the yost

→ jamie.drysdale WHO IS “HE”??? yourusername DO YOU KNOW WHO “HE” IS??? WHY DOES HE MISS YOU HELLO?

→ yourusername calm ur tits bro ✋

username1 what’s going on in mark’s replies..

lhughes_06 when are you coming back 🙏

lhughes_06 leave cali and come back 🙏

lhughes_06 imysm please come back to michigan 🙏

lhughes_06 i’m so lonely without you i need you to come back 🙏

lhughes_06 THOSE COMMENTS WERE NOT ME I SWEAR

→ yourusername awww i can’t believe you missed me that much

→ lhughes_06 NO PLEASE RUT STOLE MY PHONE YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE ME

→ rutgermcgroarty dude i’m deathly sick rn i physically cannot have stolen his phone

→ jackhughes aw moosey long distance isn’t working?

→ lhughes_06 WHY ARE YOU TARGETTING ME WHAT DID I DO

_quinnhughes are you flying up here when we play the ducks?

→ yourusername YOU KNOW IT

→ jamie.drysdale i’m trying to convince her not to i promise

→ yourusername i wouldn’t miss a chance to spend time with my huggy wuggy bear

→ _quinnhughes blocked.

username29 jamie’s an amazing photographer

liked by jamie.drysdale

username93 LUKE’S COMMENTS LMAOOO

→ yourusername he wants me to clarify that it “wasn’t him” (you shouldn’t believe him)

yourusername

liked by adamfantilli, lhughes_06, _alexturcotte and 92,177 others

yourusername guess who’s who??

tagged: edwards.73, markestapa, luca.fantilli, rutgermcgroarty

view all comments

mackie.samo how come i wasn’t invited 🙁

→ yourusername I’M SORRY THEY KIDNAPPED ME SO I COULDN’T INVITE YOU 💔💔💔

→ mackie.samo it’s okay we can still have our annual cookie baking session

→ rutgermcgroarty COOKIES?? CAN I JOIN

→ mackie.samo NO it’s us two only 😠

→ yourusername mack’s the boss, sorry rut

username47 tag yourself i’m the skeleton mark’s hugging

→ username22 how’d you know it’s mark wtf

→ username90 i’m the yellow glasses ethan’s wearing

jamie.drysdale of course you go and do this as soon as you get back

→ yourusername DON’T JUDGE

adamfantilli luca’s the second right one on the right photo isn’t he..

→ yourusername YES HOW’D YOU KNOW??

→ adamfantilli i could smell the stupidity

→ luca.fantilli WOAH WOAH?? WHAT DID I DO?

→ yourusername FANTILLI FIGHT ⁉️⁉️

→ adamfantilli mom got mad at me because YOU left the house messy before we left to catch our flight

→ luca.fantilli your room was the only messy room in the house stop lying

username65 friend group goals

liked by yourusername

username7 wtf i wanna do this with my friends

username74 FASHION ICONS

trevorzegras come back and watch us play lil drizzy ❤️

→ yourusername first of all never call me lil drizzy again

→ yourusername second of all i’m going to the nucks game when you play BE PATIENT 🙄

next chapter notes ) this was actually so fun to make im excited to make moreeee 🫣 also the official nickname is drizzle i’m calling it rn bc drysdale=drizzle=drizzy=drizz AND I KNOW IT SOUNDS STUPID BUT I SWEAR YOU WILL COME TO LOVE IT

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 28

Fic masterlist

Not me disappearing and coming back with angst

Warnings: you might be mad at me by the end of this chapter

Words: 3,8k

There was a lot of gross things that, as a mother, Aelin was willing to do, but gift-wrapping a peed stick for her boyfriend wasn’t one of them.

Instead, Aelin texted Rowan asking him to pick Maisie up alone. After work, she went straight to get her pregnancy confirmed with some blood work that’d be done tomorrow, then went to the mall to find a cute envelope to put the test in.

Aelin was supposed to go straight home after, but she got sidetracked by the baby stores. Sue her.

Though it was getting pretty late. So late she had to pause the onesie window-shopping because her phone started pinging with Rowan’s texts.

>> Baby

>> Working late today?

>> I’m cleaning my closet for when you decide to bring your things

>> I made soup for dinner

>> Maisie and Fleetfoot are sleeping

>> And my cock is already hard for you

>> Don’t make me miss you too much

His texts brought a smile to her lips. Torn between her promise to stop lying to him and the truth potentially ruining her plans, Aelin decided she’d just not say anything to him—only when it was time.

Her reply began with a devilish grinning emoji.

<< Or else?

<< I’ll be home soon

<< Buzzard

<< Love you

She put her phone away, not knowing the cause for the quiver in her stomach—something between morning sickness, being too in love and nausea from antidepressant withdrawal, now that she had to switch her medication to something more pregnancy-friendly.

Aelin wanted to suspend all her medication for the baby’s sake, but Dr. Blackbeak advised her against it—and was unkind enough to remind her about what happened when she last did it.

Her history with postpartum depression, the main reason she was freaking out about this pregnancy. She’d always wanted this second baby—now or later, surprise or planned—but as much as it didn’t change the outcome, it also didn’t change how anxious she felt about it.

Being a second-time mom, people would think Aelin wasn’t scared. Truth was, she was fucking terrified. Even more so than in her first pregnancy.

This wasn’t the cold rush in the pit of Aelin’s belly, making a mother-to-be wonder about how her new journey would be. This was the sheer dread of a woman who went to hell and back not a very long time ago.

Aelin took a deep breath, clutching the little onesie for dear life as if it’d steady her. She let herself sniff it because it smelled like babies, rainbows and unicorns, then blinked back a few tears because pregnancy hormones and the moodiness from antidepressant withdrawal weren’t a good combo.

Morning sickness made her dehydrated enough. The last thing Aelin needed was to cry like a baby at the mall.

When the timer went off a few days ago and Aelin saw two lines on the pregnancy test, she shrieked with joy. Her chest inflated like a balloon, overcome with the most exquisite feeling, and then memories of a tiny, breakable Maisie flooded her thoughts. That’s when her smile died down.

She remembered her daughter’s cute nursery, and how Rowan would shout at her when he visited because he was over-sanitizing everything Maisie came near, but Aelin would rather kill herself than get out of bed to pick up a broom.

She remembered dizziness and black spots in her vision because Aelin wasn’t eating as much as a nursing mother should.

She remembered wondering how well-off Maisie would be with just Rowan, and remembered toughening up and shaking these thoughts off because growing up without her own mom sucked.

She remembered not remembering Maisie’s first year like a proper mom would, because her faulty brain deemed it safer to erase it than allow Aelin to relieve it in any way.

Still, she could do this again. She would do this again.

And while Aelin had no certainty over how having a newborn baby again would look like, she knew the outcome would be better if she allowed herself to rely on Rowan.

Aelin was self-sufficient enough to not really need anyone, but she also could admit that Rowan had a skill-set that complimented hers. They made a good team. Therefore, though Aelin didn’t need him, she was ready to allow herself to.

And right now, she could really use his restorative cuddles or the meals he’d prep when she was pregnant with Maisie. Everything at the hospital cafeteria made her stomach riot, so Aelin had a bag of IV fluids for lunch, after she felt ill at the end of a 6-hour surgery. Rowan would freak the fuck out if he knew.

But then she saw a White Hawks onesie, and every worry flew out the window for a moment. It was one of the first things he bought for Maisie, and even today, he got her a new jersey every time she outgrew one.

She took one off the rack and smiled. This wasn’t the original plan, but the envelope with the beta hCG test was definitely coming with a gift attached now.

˜˜

“Again?” Sorscha, the hospital’s pharmacist, frowned at Aelin’s request.

“What do you mean, again?”

“I heard you came here asking for the same thing earlier today.”

Fucking hospital gossip.

On the way home, Aelin had to pull over and ended up retching inside one of her shopping bags—but had the time to get the onesie out before she made its bag unsalvageable—so she decided to do a quick detour back to work and surreptitiously snatch a bag of IV fluids.

It didn’t take a PhD to know that intravenous medication was more effective than tablets, and Aelin happened to have easy access to it and a medical degree to take care of herself.

But now Sorscha’s unwillingness to help was kinda ruining her plans.

The pharmacist continued, “Did you see a physician before coming here?”

Absolutely not. If Aelin told a single soul inside this hospital about her pregnancy, there was a chance someone might congratulate Rowan about it before she did it herself.

Instead, Aelin said, “I am the physician.”

“Really? You broke a bone so bad you need anti-nausea and B1?”

Aelin crossed her arms, shooting daggers at Sorscha. What was even her point here?

Still, she pressed on, “Does Captain Whitethorn know you’re here?”

“That is none of your business,” Aelin said slowly, her tone and glare hard as steel. “I came here for saline, electrolytes, glucose, vitamins and ondansetron; not relationship advice. Can I have the fluids or not?”

Sorscha’s jaw worked, her tiny frame now filled with anger. Aelin didn’t mean to be a jerk, but the woman crossed a line by mentioning her boyfriend.

“Sorry, Doc. I only take orders from physicians when they’re on call,” the pharmacist said before turning her back on Aelin and leaving her alone in the hallway.

Aelin walked about two halls and found chairs by the administrative area, and texted her resident.

<< Nox

<< Who’s on call tonight?

Thank Mala her response came fast.

>> Bas and I

>> Need anything?

<< No you’re not

<< You just pulled a 24h shift

<< Tonight you’re getting a good night’s sleep for Mr. Faliq’s carpal tunnel fix.

<< Come by Yellowlegs’ office so I can scold you in person

Aelin tucked her phone back inside her purse—she didn’t need to wait for a reply, he’d be here.

In the meantime, she self-soothed the discomfort in her throat and stomach with deep breaths while she didn’t have her IV, and thought of what the hell she’d tell Rowan when she got home, now that it was after ten and she wasn’t ready to tell him about the baby yet.

If Rowan knew that she: (1) was at the hospital because her (2) pregnancy symptoms were overlapping with the (3) antidepressant withdrawal, so she was (4) throwing up so much it was hard to keep food inside while also (5) freaking out because Baby #2 could potentially wreck years of progress Aelin has put into her mental heath ever since Maisie was born…

It was safe to say that Aelin wasn’t eager to put all cards on the table for him right now.

Rowan will find a million things to worry about, whether they’re an actual concern or not. And if she does give him something to be concerned about… nope. Not happening. Aelin needed to get at least part of her shit together before he went all dadzilla on her.

On the other hand, she needed him. Also, Rowan might freak out, but she couldn’t lie just to shield him from a problem that regarded both of them, as a couple.

But hurried footsteps announced her resident’s arrival, so Aelin tucked those problems away for her near-future self.

“Hey, Doc!” Nox shouted, running her way. “Just finished the night round. What’s up?”

“Just feeling a bit under the weather.” She waved him off before he decided to doctor her. “Nothing much. Sorscha won’t give me an IV because I’m not on call, can you get one for me?”

“Again?” He asked, mentioning her mid-surgery break earlier today. “Are you sick?”

“Not sick enough to let you fix Mr. Faliq’s wrist unsupervised, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He raised his brows and had his palms facing up and tried to clarify, “That’s not—“

“And I’m not trusting that wrist with a sleep-deprived resident.” She circled a finger in the general direction of his bloodshot eyes. “You better be looking sharp and ready at the OR tomorrow, Dr. Owen.”

He pointed at the bags under his eyes. “I think these will take a lot more than one night to fade away, Doc.”

Aelin humphed and quickly scribbled down the components she needed for her fluids. Truth was, she liked Nox. Being older than the average resident—older than her, even—he was fun company, but not a buffoon like some of her students. As an attending surgeon, she needed to give him a hard time sometimes to establish dominance, but Aelin could easily see herself befriending him once they were equals in the surgery food chain.

She handed him the note. “Would you get these at the pharmacy and find me at the observation room?”

He nodded and scanned the note. “Sure, and about tomorrow—wait. I know this. My sister would take it when she was—” Nox’s pulled down eyebrows went impossibly up as his eyes widened. He cleared his throat and schooled his face into neutrality. “But that’s none of my business, is it?”

“Good call,” Aelin said, and tilted her chin to the general direction of the pharmacy. “Now go.”

˜˜

“Are you sure you can drive like this? I don’t mind staying longer,” Nox said at the observation room, right after he didn’t let Aelin stab the IV needle into herself.

There was a 50/50 chance he was sucking up to her to get more surgeries, but it wasn’t bothering her as much as it would on a regular day.

“It’s a five-minute drive,” she reminded him. It went without saying that Aelin lived at the Air Force gated community, most doctors here did.

He hummed, still checking everything before he left. “And you’re alone with Little Bean tonight?”

“Nope.” She leaned back on the recliner chair, biting back a smile. “Papa Bean and I moved in together. Now I can be sick without worrying about Little Bean.” She wiggled her eyebrows, gloating about this newfound small luxury.

Not that she didn’t have help per se but, a year ago, Aelin would rather overdose on painkillers than ask Rowan for help.

Before she could continue conversation with Nox, a figure oddly similar to Papa Bean himself showed up in her peripheral vision.

She saw him before he saw her. Nox closed the partitions that separated her from the other patients, but not the one that faced the corridor—which allowed her to see Rowan’s back as he talked to a nurse at another part of the room.

Why on earth was he here? This wasn’t protocol. Aelin wasn’t injured in a way that made the staff make calls—hell, she wasn’t even officially a patient, she pretty much made her resident smuggle some fluids and medicated herself here.

She glared at Nox, but he looked just as confused. By the way he was coddling her, Aelin doubted he’d call Rowan behind her back. Which led to one other suspect.

When Rowan found her and his features relaxed in relief, all murderous thoughts about Sorscha vanished.

“Gods, Aelin.” He sighed, then hurried to her chair and cradled her head to his chest, ducking his face into the top of her head as if in this moment he wanted to embrace her with every inch of his body. “What happened?”

The snap of Nox’s gloves as he threw them away caught her attention before she could reply. “I should go. See you around, Doc.” He nodded at Rowan. “Captain.”

Rowan briefly thanked him for assisting Aelin, closed the last partition to give them some privacy and brought a chair closer to hers. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing much. I just felt a bit under the weather and stopped by to get some fluids. Do you remember who notified you about me being here? That’s not protocol.”

He blinked. His gaze slowly hardened until his jaw worked, and that’s how Aelin realized it was the wrong thing to say.

“A friend of Aedion’s that works here told him and asked if you’re okay, and then he called me asking if you’re okay.”

Fucking hospital gossip.

Rowan quirked a brow up and crossed his arms, waiting her to say something, which she didn’t, so he continued, “Now, imagine how I felt when I didn’t know if you’re okay or why you’re in the hospital, because you completely disappeared on me all evening—“

Aelin opened her mouth to speak, but Rowan held a finger up to signal that he wasn’t finished, in a way annoyingly similar to the one he used with Maisie. “And, after I made Aedion run to our house to watch Maisie and drove like a maniac here, imagine how I felt when I find you hanging out with your resident, right next to your phone, just not feeling in the mood to tell me you’re in the goddamn hospital?!” His voice got harsher and uneven in the end, an indicator that he was trying to keep it down given their surroundings.

Knowing her boyfriend, she could imagine very well. It wasn’t pretty but, in her defense, the hospital visit was completely unplanned and part of some news he wasn’t supposed to know yet.

Aelin nodded, her demeanor serious but not chastened. “I understand this isn’t ideal—“

“Ideal?”

A sigh. “I understand you’re pissy, then.”

“No, pissy doesn’t cover a fraction of it. The entire evening, where were you?”

“I had things to do.”

“And I suppose you’re not going to tell me until you want to?”

Aelin didn’t reply, and she was relieved when he kept quiet as well. If she was going through an inquisition, it was better to do it at home, away from prying ears. Besides, she was almost done with the IV.

As they waited to go home, Rowan’s face—along with the crossed arms and brooding aura—spoke volumes. And while she understood why he was upset with her, whatever Rowan wanted to know, he could wait until the pregnancy reveal tomorrow. Aelin was so not spilling everything now at the worst moment ever.

Baby #1 revealed in jail and Baby #2 at the ER. Mala help Baby #3 if they keep this shit up.

But then an inkling of why he might be this upset hit her, along with memories of her and Nox hanging out when he arrived. This sounds like such a silly concern.

Just like co-parenting a child with him meant dealing with millions of silly concerns that took over his days.

Shit.

Aelin wished she had the self-control to stand the weird vibe, but she didn’t. Without letting Rowan notice, she took off her own needle and disposed what was left of the fluids before she had finished it. She did take enough to get through the night, which was her goal.

Once they were in the parking lot, she broke their silence.

“I was alone—the whole time. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

Rowan cast her a sideways glance of poorly-concealed disapproval, as his steps towards the car didn’t falter. His jaw worked.

“I never doubted your fidelity, Aelin. Knowing you, I’d be less worried if that was the case—at least I’d know what the fuck you’re up to.”

Aelin reared back, his words hitting her like a blow.

“You don’t mean that.”

Rowan got inside the car without sparing her a glance, but she followed suit, undeterred. Sat on the passenger seat and decided to spill every part he needed to know at the moment without waiting for his reaction.

“I had a long day at work and needed to clear my head, so I went to the mall.” Not a lie. “Then I threw up on the way home and stopped by the hospital for some anti-nausea medication. Dr. Blackbeak changed my antidepressant, I’ll have withdrawal symptoms for the next few weeks.”

Among other causes for nausea.

“You didn’t tell me—about any of it.”

“I’m telling you now.”

“You went to Dr. Blackbeak almost two days ago, Aelin.”

Rowan’s speed wasn’t nausea-friendly, and he must be really pissed off to forget about his safety-first driving style.

“Well, you know—“

“Why did she change your medication?”

“I’m not the shrink, am I?”

His sharp turn brought a taste of bile to her throat. Shit, couldn’t he give time for her meds to work before driving this unhinged?

Rowan stopped at a red light, then rested his head against the steering wheel—more like banged his head against it, but the quick horn didn’t have many cars to disturb at this late hour.

With a heartbreaking waver to his voice that tugged at her heartstrings, he said, “I’m trying so fucking hard to be understanding, to be a better partner, to be someone you deserve, but I can’t be that to you if you won’t let me.”

Guilt. Aelin closed her eyes to take some deep breaths for her rebellious stomach, letting the raw emotion of his statement wash away the confidence about the way she acted tonight. Flashes of Rowan’s worried glances and tentative conversations about Aelin’s mood he started with her the past weeks came to mind.

It was only then that Aelin realized Rowan noticed every symptom of her pregnancy—the fatigue, mood swings, change in appetite—before she did herself. He just assumed she was having a depressive episode instead.

He saw all the signs and decided she was depressed instead of carrying his baby. The Buzzard.

Aelin never lied to him about Maisie or things she deemed important for him to know, but she did lie to him about her mental health. Repeatedly. Over the course of six years. This being the main reason that broke them apart.

Knowing this, she could see more clearly the reason behind his outburst.

Aelin slowly reached his shoulder and caressed it with her thumb. “Baby, I’m fine. You have nothing to worry about.”

Lies, lies, lies. Almost—but she wasn’t telling him whole thing now.

The light turned green and he picked up speed, to her stomach’s chagrin.

“Aelin, that’s not how ma—how a relationship works. You can’t let me know about shit like this only when it’s convenient for you, and I thought we were over this.”

Cold sweat broke on Aelin’s skin, and she felt lucky she could process what he said over the lightheadedness.

“I know, baby. And you’re the first person I go to, always. But sometimes I feel more comfortable sorting things out on my own first.”

Rowan let out a bitter chuckle. “Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen? Me freaking out because someone else told me you’re at the hospital?”

With breaths too shallow, her mouth flooded with saliva and made her jaw clench.

“Stop the car.”

“What?” Rowan asked, confused.

“Stop the car,” she repeated with no energy to shout, which he complied—too abruptly.

Aelin practically jumped off the car once it stopped and knelt on the grass of their gated community, trying to take deep breaths as her diaphragm contracted itself, preparing her for what was to come.

Her boyfriend quickly circled the car and crouched next to her. His trademark frown was frownier than ever. “What’s going on?”

“I just. Took. Nausea shit,” she managed to say, still breathless. “Could you not drive like a maniac?”

“Fuck. I’m so sorry, baby.” He held her hair. “All this from the medication withdrawal?”

Aelin couldn’t answer even if she wanted to, given her current state. A moment or two later she sat—more like slumped—on the grass, potentially ruining her jeans, feeling glad that there was a lot of dry heaving, but she didn’t throw up. Thank you, modern medicine.

She knew she had to address what Rowan said tonight, but it must be nearing midnight, Aelin had surgery first thing in the morning, and she was so incredibly tired.

An entire day’s worth of fatigue crashed down on her, just as much as her pride vanished. She didn’t bother trying to hide any of it from Rowan anymore, who watched her with hawk-like attention.

“Can we fight later?” Aelin said with a pleading look.

“Of course, baby.” Rowan scooped her up from the floor and effortlessly sat her on the passenger seat with the seatbelt on.

Aelin never thought she’d ever enjoy being coddled like this, but she’s had a rough day, and she needs her person.

Back in the driver’s seat, Rowan gave her a once-over before turning the car on, but Aelin stopped him once more. They’d get home to Aedion demanding answers, then crash and wake up to Maisie being loud in the morning and a whole day of work. Some things needed to be said first, so he doesn’t get the wrong idea.

“I just want you to know that I know that what happened was very uncool of me. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll get over it.” He gave her a watery smile. “Do you wanna talk about it just the two of us, or should I book an appointment with Yrene?”

Aelin wrinkled her nose, playfully discarding the idea of an early trip to the family therapist’s office. “Just us.”

“Whatever you need.”

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[catscidr]

Could you make a scenario with sick reader and Yandere doctor please 😭

need him to walk into my room in a nurse outfit and take care of me when i get sick... but Alas he's not real... woe is me(༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ)..... WHATEVER i can always write about him anyways so im WINNING EITHER WAY...... (inhales copium) ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: yandere dottore, he's a little overbearing, reader has a cold. that's pretty much it (lmk if i missed anything!) includes: gn reader, dottore, iota (youngest segment) wc: 1,3k

Ooohhhh he would be mad. Not in an explosive way, but in a “I’m not mad, just disappointed” way except he IS mad, he’s just really good at keeping his emotions under wraps. You know this, too. He made sure that you did. 

It didn’t matter what kind of illness you came down with; a common cold, the flu, something worse? He’s freakishly good at reading you, and he didn’t need to hear you blowing your nose or sniffling every other second to know you had gotten sick. The skin around your nose blossoming into a darker, reddish tone and your eyelids drooping just a bit lower than usual was enough for him to know you weren’t telling him something you should have. 

It also didn’t matter if you didn’t even see him- he had eyes everywhere, quite literally. It was rare for you to be anywhere in the palace or the lab without one of his clones attached to your hip, whether it be a younger clone tagging along to do something more interesting than breaking open a ruin guard, or an older clone staying by your side, taking a break from work to enjoy your company. 

So, of course, even if the doctor happened to be especially busy when you suddenly caught a cold, you’d still be stuck with him being the equivalent to a mother hen because of how seriously he took your health. 

Usually you didn’t mind his attention, you’d even bask in it, but this time you couldn’t stand it. Your state had been manageable for the past two days and, thankfully, Prime and his clones were none the wiser to your nose overproducing snot nor the way your eyes had more crust around them when you woke up in the morning. But you feared that today would be the day he’d catch you and promote you to being his bedwarmer- literally. Last time you got sick and went to him for help you felt like you were in urgent care, forced to stay in his bed, having at least two of his segments stay with you 24/7, making you eat four meals a day despite your lack of appetite and desperate need for sleep. 

You could insist all you want that you were fine, that you just needed to vegetate in bed for a day or two and you’d be back on your feet in no time, but no, he refused to have any of it. He’d ask who’s the doctor here? in the same condescending voice he used whenever one of his lackeys displeased him (and you’d reply with you didn’t even graduate if you weren’t so tired), and then would throw you over his shoulder to bring you to his spotless bedroom so you could rest while he keeps an eye on you.

The one thing you were happy about was how Dottore wasn’t prone to blatant violence. Nothing physical, at least. When needed, he would slip medication into your water to help you sleep, would graciously lift your sleeve to give you a shot while you were knocked out cold and give you special medicine to make sure you had all the vitamins you needed. He wouldn’t do any of that if you had cooperated with him in the first place, though; so, you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him. At least not for long. 

Like clockwork, you were currently going through that same order of events. 

In retrospect, it was a bad idea to indulge Iota and go out in the snow to make a snowman with him- but how could you resist him! The lab could feel so stuffy as it was, and the additional smell of blood covered up by strong cleaning agents only did so little to help you resist his pleas. So, you grabbed Dottore’s Harbinger coat and got yourself dragged outside by the small but mighty youngest segment as he eagerly talked your ear off about having a snowball fight, making a myriad of snow angels and other winter activities you weren’t familiar with. 

After getting absolutely pelted with snow (Iota was good at snowball fights, surprisingly) you hung up Dottore’s coat to dry and made your way to the bathroom to wipe off any snow and water that had gotten on your skin despite the large, fluffy cloak you wore. Iota waved you off with a boyish grin and a taunting better luck next time! as you watched him saunter off into the direction of his creator’s lab. Your fingertips felt cold but as you dried your skin thoroughly you felt your body gradually warm up, and that was enough for your standards. 

Placing the towel on a rack to dry, you then headed over to your room to relax your aching muscles after the remarkably intense snowball fight. You laid down underneath the covers, grateful to be able to take a nap. However, when you awoke about two hours later, you thought you felt your arms weighed even more than before, and your head throbbed an ache that wasn’t there previously. And surely, a day later, you find yourself sneakily throwing away your used tissues somewhere that Dottore won't find them, else he subjects you to his overbearing methods of... curing you. 

You did your best to make your footsteps as careful and light as possible, lowering the chances of one of them finding you with a trash bag full of snot-filled tissues. Unfortunately for you though, maybe you should have worn something other than pyjamas because, as luck had it, although a segment hasn’t seen your physical state, a patrolling agent did. 

He spoke into a walkie-talkie quietly enough that your ears didn’t pick up the sound of his voice and, as you're about to step outside to throw the trash bag out, you feel a hand on your shoulder. A cold, gloved hand that you could recognize anywhere with your eyes closed. You halt your movements as the (not so) mysterious figure behind you stays silent, waiting for you to say something first. 

Your shoulders slump forward in defeat, and you sniffle. “I don’t wanna be locked up in your room again,” you say quietly, voice slightly slurred from your cold. He scoffs, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently enough for it to be comforting. “Maybe if you didn’t try to go outside while having a cold I would reevaluate your options,” he sighs. “Alas, you leave me no choice. What were you thinking?” Dottore turns you around and frowns, tilting his head to the side. If you were anyone else you would have been dead where you stood, but here you are; wearing one of his old shirts and a loose pair of sweatpants, one of your hands gripping a trash bag, and the other wiping your nose. You stand awkwardly, looking away sheepishly, not particularly enjoying being caught red-handed like this. 

“It would be unhygienic to keep all of those used tissues in my room,” you respond with a nonchalant shrug. He holds back the urge to sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, mask lifting just a tad from the action, and exhales slowly. You would be the death of him eventually, he thought tiredly. 

Dottore bends down low enough to grab the bag from your hands and looks over his shoulder, tossing it to a poor unsuspecting fatui soldier. The soldier in question stumbles back slightly, just barely keeping themselves from tripping over, as Dottore signals for them to throw it away themselves. You don’t have the time to speak up before the person scurries away. 

“Next time don’t be so obvious,” he says quietly enough that only you can hear him. He bends his torso forward slightly, holding his face leveled with yours. “And next time you decide to get sick,” he begins with a raspy tone, holding your chin up with his palm, “come to me immediately. Lest you want me to wrestle you into my room again.” 

You’d be blushing if you didn’t know what was going to happen. Dottore straightens his back and outstretches his hand to you, looking at you from below his mask. Defeated, you interlace your fingers with his and jut your lip out as you hold back the urge to whine. A small smile graces his face as he guides you back to the lab. 

[the-firebird69]

Morning Routine - American Psycho (1/12) Movie CLIP (2000) HD

This is the warning signs as I see it here of people who want to tell people I don't give a damn you're in my way you're going to die the value of life goes way down. The value of their zone is not that high either their own lives are going to make it because of aggression and offensive behavior not defensive. And it's because of loss because he's losing because he knows the big picture and he can't do anything about it and he's massively oppressed and pushed to do acts of homicide that don't actually ever amount to anything they keep coming back and ruining him and he's already ruined so he's trying to wear this mask of evil for people to stop taking from him even though he's a taker is not very sophisticated and down where it gets dirty he is an evil thug and just a consummate thief and kleptomaniac. And he feels if he robs you blind you can't do things. But this is a smaller arena that he's in until you're talking about nuclear weapons and that's what he's up to that's why he's very psychonic he's running around threatening to blow up large portions of Earth create massive shockwaves and be somebody I can't respect him but I certainly can understand him I can understand his criminal nature and I can understand what he's driving at I can also understand what drove him to this particular apparent madness which it is slightly more mad than he usually is. My brother my brother hated him but the point is that Joel Watts developed the hatred of himself by screwing his wife every day for years and Dave couldn't take it and why should he it's all he had was her and and she didn't want to and was kind of sick and frail and shrunken and angry and was not defending herself. The gutter killed it got her killed by this man who doesn't seem to care that she's a secret weapon. Couldn't do it couldn't get kids didn't care tossed it aside and does that with other things even though he can see what I can do is trying to do it to me because he is a loser because of his intelligence quotient but he's a victim of the max but it doesn't get him out of trouble with us and me. So he has them to add his yard in the United Kingdom health acquaint and disgusting he's trying to survive the walls are closing in and he considers Dave to be one of the larger criminals in his life and he can't make heads or tails of it because his empire is not as large his grasp of things is O K but it's not solid his grasp of things is OK but it's not solid when it comes to larger things so I told him about things in the future that I told him here but he's remembering the max would have these made there' the max would have these made there's a huge universe it has asteroids people made those on purpose to dominate and I think it's the max plan and it's Dave's but Dave did it backwards because he had what he thought was a solid unstoppable thing which is turning out to not be true and the max knew about it but Dave and GHWB and their wives didn't know by and even my dad. They didn't know that they would have an army capable of conquering them because they didn't seem it at the time they didn't seem to know about things they weren't going after and they weren't in situ they knew about them but everybody knows about some of it and who cares I mean you can't gage what's gonna happen by that. My feeling is that the clans went ahead with a lot of stuff including Dave banking on others losing and to the infight which is enormous and it's effective but it's not enough and they're vulnerable in Saturn soon the empire is getting powerful again they're at the Continental Caverns they're at the diamonds his makeshift army is deteriorating into insanity and to nothing and so we look at the sunset as it goes down on the race that was discriminated against like Dave and Dave is in jeopardy. So where is the solution what can I do i'm always asked you can listen to the whole story and try and memorize it. The Max are gaining ground while you guys are in fighting and it's very Ugly them and then you need to find out my story is true you need to find pieces and you need to find the code you need to find the calendar and the schedule. You don't need to find your friends over and over and shoot them. You need to have an army that is so vast that your pinley little 1 trillion or 1% isn't gonna be but it even a flashing opinion in a pan you've been delaying and you've been forcing people to make weaponry that's one thing and but way over the top OK. So I'm using it for. foreigners are getting up we're getting up in the max we're gonna have a real fight but you guys are flying to absolute pieces running and scurrying and running and scurrying. And you'll find that these people have a lot of warrants on them too in every city so what I know is something went arrive it went off kilter in his giants they're not humans they think like me but I'm small I haven't grown up and I'm not squished. Is probably Dave and think they think it's David's son. Me. The proof and what you need and what you seek is not in your friends hand so the max perhaps they have it now because they have the caverns and you need that information so you find your friends so you wanna kill and you tell them where to look. They won't come back. What it take from you and Dave may be taking from you still but it doesn't look like he is doing it so I leave with that.

Zues

and he says it like this daiy and the guy forgets wont ck or cent and wont see it and is a nut arlreay if he sees it right over teh edge ok

Hera

and you two are young very oyung smalla nd cant get big he did it we know it all the time.  and wesee him. this is it we go ck

now too

trump

Olympuos

[lapetitavis]

I miss my friends and I miss my best friend so much it hurts.

Im pretty sure I’ve ruin things but I’m not sure but regardless sometimes things like this happen. I just miss how much time we used to spend together and the adventures we went on. I miss being able to talk to them about anything and being understood immediately. I savor the music you introduced me to all those years ago in our funny apartment and I think of the books I still have to read. I still have the list of your favorite books to read but I can’t help but see you in each book I try to start and I see a glimpse of you as a child or a teenager. I find myself saving memes or jokes to send to them and remembering my texts stay undelivered in our chat. Maybe I should call and see if I can apologize or maybe this was a miscommunication. But I know you as well as I know myself, if something could be repaired between us you would have already called me. You would have told me in your own way to knock it off and just text me. Most of all I miss having you be my comfort place. I know there’s no judgement with you. I’ve had hard times in the last few months I just wish they were here with me. Instead I’ve been having to be strong alone and be supportive for everyone else. In over two years I haven’t had a donut because I think of super early mornings in the cafe before class or that one fun afternoon of making them from scratch and I miss you too much. Same goes for cheesecake, no matter how fancy or how hungry I am all cheesecake tastes like dirt to me and I can’t have more than a bite.

My other best friend I lost contact with. I guess that’s what happens when you live on the other side of world from each other. What I wouldn’t give to send them a text right now. Their number doesn’t work anymore and their email doesn’t respond either. When we last talked they said they’re busy and on to a big fancy adult job. And it’s been three years and I’m still a kid and they’re a dream I hate seeing at night. I go through their Facebook that they stopped using in 2020 and I wonder why they never logged back in. I look at our tagged photos and simple thinking of those simple days. I also hope you’re okay I know you were always under a lot of pressure and being nervous makes you sick. You hate being sick because you get a sore throat and that’s no fun especially since you hate cooking and it’s even harder to cook soft foods. At the grocery stores I stop sometimes and smile because I see your snacks that I would make sure to stock up on when you would visit. Whenever you are now I hope you finally got a proper water bottle instead of that awful little one from the school that you carried. I know you’re still probably drinking your coffee sludge and honestly I miss how bad it tasted.

All three of us were friends and there were moments when they had asked to hang out and I was too tired or didn’t want to hang out and I’m mad at myself. Those precious memories haunt me now. I just want to be 18/19 and be with my two best friends in Rome again with no worries and all the time in the world. On nights like tonight I listen to our shared playlists on Spotify and cry because these songs used to be background tracks for our antics and now I’m still looking for a piece of them in it.

[honeystwiggypeach]

A courthouse wedding

Dad!Eddie x Mom!Reader

Dad!Eddie masterlist!!

Tw: morning sickness, Eddie not graduating in 1985 so he gets a little saddened, readers pregnant, reader and Eddie are very very young parents, unplanned pregnancy, lots of vomiting and morning sickness pls skip if you find that icky this one isn’t that important(the main focus is not the wedding as the tittle would suggest), crying, taking pregnancy tests, making decisions without thinking them fully through, and pet names! This whole thing is fluff it’s not angst.

Eddie had been in your room that morning, the moment you ran into your bathroom holding your mouth Eddie knew something was up.

He peeked his head into the bathroom to see you clutching your arms around the toilet as you groaned, this was not the way to begin your graduation day.

And it also wasn’t the way to begin your graduation when Eddie told you the school counselor had called him in the week before to say he wouldn’t have enough credits to graduate this year effectively crushing your dreams of moving near your dream college with Eddie this year since he’d still be enrolled in high school since he truly wants to graduate.

Anyways, the day continues to go downhill when you practically beg Eddie to pull over on the side of the road because your nauseous…three seperate times on the ten minute ride to school. And than again when you cried telling him it’d be the last time the two of you ever ride to school together again, Eddie was not amused to say the least when you cried again because now your mascara had dropped down your face.

“Eddie it’s ruined” you cried rubbing your face in his shoulder.

He let out a soft sigh, “baby, you left your bag in my van last time.” He grabbed your makeup bag from his backseat and you clapped a bit the two of you skipped the first three hours of school, the first because you were doing your makeup the second and third simply because you felt nauseous.

I’m his head he mentally makes a note to ask you about that as it seemed quite concerning.

The rest of the day up until graduation is normal, as normal as it could be as you had to will yourself to hold down your breakfast every half hour.

Once the graduation ceremony finally rolled around you just swathed gripped Eddie’s arm both before and after you were called up to collect your diploma.

Once you had taken a few photos with your family you were booking it to the office having your parents sign you out from school since they had known you were sick, and Eddie, well he just decided if you were skipping he might as well to.

You went back to Eddie’s house and after him insisting for the millionth time that something had to be wrong for you to be this sick you finally got tired of it asking, “alright Eddie since you know what’s wrong why don’t you tell me what I should do?” Yoh glare at him over your shoulder from your place on the floor near the toilet.

“Angel, listen don’t get mad but I think you should take a pregnancy test…”

And that’s how Eddie ended up walking to the convince store at midnight to buy nauseous medicine and a few pregnancy tests, just in case you know false negatives and false positives.

Well fuck, Eddie was right. You think to yourself as you stare down at all the pregnancy tests that have two lines on them after you had taken them the next morning.

Eddie hadn’t known if he should be happy or upset based on your reaction so he tried to internalize any emotions he had. If you were upset he was upset, if you were happy he was too.

“Eddie I think we should get married.” You mumble quietly.

He stares at you with wide eyes, “really angel? You wanna marry me?”

“…I don’t see why not we’re gonna have a baby and I love you so why not?” He hugs you happily and you smile softly.

“I have to find my good jeans for this baby!” He shouts happily running towards his closet and you pick up the dress you wore yesterday knowing that this was your best dress might as well get another wear out of it.

And that afternoon the two of you pulled into the parking lot of the court house nervously, so nervous in fact that you two did not have a witness but if Eddie thought about it, maybe he would have brought Chrissy or Dustin as a witness.

Instead the witness ended up being some random worker who got roped in because they were at the receptionist’s desk.

In all honesty neither of you regret it per day just wish you wouldn’t have jumped into it head first, it would have been ok to plan stuff out a little.

But that’s not what you two did instead you two went back home and counted up all your savings. If you guys were gonna have a baby and be married you didn’t think Wayne would appreciate the three of you keeping him up so late(he would t mind it!)

And after you gathered your savings and did all the math approximating that when you were around six to eight months pregnant that then the two of you could afford a small trailer.

The rest of that day was spent with Eddie holding one hand on your belly trying to convince you that the little fetus was kicking him.

“Eddie, she isn’t big enough to kick you yet.”

And when Eddie places his hand on your belly at eight months pregnant in your own trailer while you’re on maternity leave all he can think about is how fast your pregnancy has gone by, how he wouldn’t change a thing, not even his little court house marriage.

Tags: @miracleboysel

[emmyrosee]

…most of my rants are about being these characters being playful and teasing with the reader but that won’t stop me from giving you one more. I’m touch starved!! This is all I crave!! Throw me onto a bed (or anywhere soft) and start a fight and I’m all yours!!

and I KNOW I SAID I HAD MORE SUNA (and I do, I most definitely do) BUT HERE’S SOME SAMU BC HE’S SO ABSJWJDKVJ AND I ADORE HOW YOU WRITE HIM (as I do with all the characters you write ofc, but since I feel like I’ve been neglecting him lately, I’m giving him some extra love tonight)

So anyway Osamu is tired and getting comfy in bed BUT you’re full of energy and talking to him about everything under the sun. It’s very clear you won’t be sleeping anytime soon and he wants a full 8 hours so he’s just like “oh, you’re not tired, huh? Let me tire you out then baby” and he fucking piCKS YOU UP AND you’re laughing and squirming in his arms in protest but he needs you to be t i r e d so he keeps it up and starts a war with pillows and tickles and he’s more awake now and fully enjoying it. And by the end, you’re so tired out that you just fall asleep on his chest. I love him. I want him to pick me up. I want to play fight with him. I want his arms around me. I’m not light but I just know he’d be able to lift me. …yes this WAS fueled by me not being tired but needing to sleep what about it?

I LITERALLY WANT TO RUIN HIS DAYS AND SLEEP SCHEDULE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH-

Also who do you think he is, he could toss you like a sac of potatoes boy is bUILT-

Like listen. He gets it. He doesn’t force you to get up with him every morning to help set up the restaurant, he wants you to sleep in and relax, but some days his body just needs to knock out early and sleep.

And usually, of course, it’s the days your body decides to kick it up a notch and stay up far later than him.

He’s left you in the living room with a sweet kiss on your head, telling you that he hopes you’ll come to bed soon, assures you that tomorrow he’ll be able to watch tv with you, tries to cover all the bases so you can let him fall asleep with peace and love.

Very clearly, however, you’re not going to go down with peace and love.

Because every minute and half, you’re back in the room. Be it to show him a tiktok, or talk about a recipe you think he should try, or a picture of Atsumu’s dog and how bad you want one, you’re. There.

“‘Samu, did you know that 40% of your dna is also shared in a banana-“

“Baby, I love you so much,” he says, voice raspy from being dragged out of sleep once again. “If you come in here one more time to talk to me, I’m going to make you regret it.”

You become silent, and his heart sinks at the idea he hurt your feelings with his words. He sits back up to see you, fiddling with your fingers in the doorway.

“Sorry,” you say softly.

He quickly shakes his head, “no, no baby, it’s okay, I didn’t-“

“Didn’t know grandpa needed his sleep so bad.”

Suddenly, his brows shoot up. You grin around a cheeky tongue bite, and he licks his upper lip at your defiance.

“I cannot stand you,” he snarls, immediately popping onto his feet and dashing towards you in a mad sprint, adrenaline pumping as you scream and dash away.

And listen, he’s a big man, but he’s got plenty of speed under his belt and you barely have time to scramble down the hall before he’s got you in his arms, tossing you over his shoulder. You’re kicking and laughing and doing everything you can to break free, but he’s not budging. Not even a little. Usually when osamu wants to play fight, he gives you a little bit of wiggle room as a false sense of freedom, but today, he’s serious, and it makes you giggle and scream in anticipation.

When he finally does release you, it’s with a rough toss on the bed, watching with a sick smirk as you scramble to make some distance, as if the mattress will protect you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He scoffs, grabbing your ankle and dragging you back down the bed, your eyes widening because he’s never done that before, and apparently, you love it.

“I-I’ll leave you alone!” You reason, but he had no interest in your bargaining. Instead, he takes his pillow and swats it everywhere he can against you, against your legs and extended arms, being careful of your face but not exactly avoiding it.

You try to grab the pillow from his hands, and just to briefly disorient you, he holds the pillow over your face. By the time you throw the fluffed pillow off of you, he’s kneeling between your legs, “I know what will tire you out.”

You shove his broad shoulders as he smooths his hands over your kicking legs, pinning you to the bed with his body before tickling you with everything he can muster. You shriek so loud it hurts his own head, but skittering fingers only draw more cackles out of you, and he’s not feeling merciless.

“I hate you!” You lie between your cackles “I hate you! S-so mean! Stop iiitttt!”

“I’m not in the mood for that crap,” he snarls playfully; his tickling fingers slow only slightly so he can lean down, whispering in your ear- which also has you a giggling and whining from the feeling. “I want you to break.”

You try to tickle him back, which does, briefly, have him stopping to defend himself, but it doesn’t last long before he gathers your hands in his and pins them above your head to the mattress. The action makes your eyes widen in anticipation, a flash of panic being drowned out by a glimmer of eagerness.

“Are you done being an asshole?” He grits between his teeth. Your legs wrapping around his body to keep him close tell him everything he needs to know, but you do whine softly at the idea of him attacking you in such a position.

“Don’t tickle me,” you pant. “I’ll behave.”

“Bullshit,” he scoffs, his hand making a move to make you jump, and he watches in satisfaction as you giggle nervously. “You eat this shit up and you know it.”

Despite this, he does release you and kisses the last of your laughter from your lips, and the whole scene seems to make you into a pile of mush; your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him flush to you, mewling softly at the affections and feeling so close.

“God, I adore you,” he mumbles, smiling as you bury your face in his neck. You nod against his skin, and he chuckles at your sudden complacence. “You finally ready for bed?”

“Yes,” you sigh sleepily. “But I left the tv on. Gotta go turn it off.”

“I’ll take care of the tv,” he promises, kissing your temple, “get under the covers. Can’t risk you getting all energized again.” You snort before he gets up to turn off the tv in the living room, folding the blanket and putting your phone on the charger, grabbing you a glass of water before heading back to bed, where you’re curled up under his side of the bed, nuzzling into his pillow.

He chuckles, “seriously?”

“It’s warm,” you murmur. He lifts up your body to slide under you, letting you curl on his chest before switching off his lamp to finally, finally go to sleep.

“Osamu?”

“….”

“….osa-“

“What.”

“I love you.”

He sighs and buries his nose in the crown of your head, “I love you too.

“Please, for the love of fuck, go the fuck to sleep.”

[luveline]

in the morning, afternoon and night [Fred Weasley x Reader]

tags: reader-insert, hurt/comfort, self esteem issues, low self esteem, reader has acne, sad reader, insecure reader

pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

word count: 1.8k

You glared at your reflection.

You'd think with such amazing magical medicine available, some witch or wizard would've invented a cure for acne, or at least a spell that covered it up.

You'd struggled with it since your third year. The muggle doctor you'd seen with your mother had suggested it was hormonal, and would calm down as you got older.

That was years ago.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. It wasn't, really. It wasn't usually very painful, though it was itchy as a stinging nettle and twice as unsightly. A large part of you knew it wasn't your fault, that acne was something that simply affected people at different times in their lives. You'd tried topicals and changing your diet, you'd tried losing weight and exercising and dermaplaning and everything they suggested in your mams fashion magazines.

Nothing worked.

Tears welled in your eyes and you sniffed them back, blinking rapidly.

It might've been silly, but it honestly made you want to hide away. You'd skipped dinner without really thinking, finding your way into the girls bathroom you inhabited now. You straightened your tie and robes, dusting down the sides. You leaned forward again, dabbing under your eyes with your sleeve.

The last thing you wanted was for anyone to know you'd been crying, because then someone might ask why. You didn't want to talk about it, ever.

If Fred saw you like this...

You and Fred Weasley had been almost dating for a few weeks now. Almost, because you hadn't talked about the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing yet.

It had been years of thinking he was the fittest boy in Gryffindor (besides George) and months of meeting his gaze in the corridors and catching his eye over dinner. Gradually it had become something more; he started carrying your books between classes and opening doors, touching your arms and your hair and your face.

You cringed at the memory. He had been so caring, moving to wipe an eyelash from the skin under your eye. You'd violently flinched from his hand, afraid he might feel the bumpy texture of your skin, feel the acne beneath your makeup. He'd been apologetic and a little confused, filling you with guilt. You hadn't been able to find a way to tell him it wasn't him, it was you. Of course you wanted him to touch you, the thought of him cradling your face had been the subject of many dizzy daydreams, but you just couldn't tell him this one thing.

It was your deepest insecurity.

The stress had only made it worse. Redness was easy to cover with muggle make up and even some wizarding tricks you'd learned over the years, but there wasn't a way to smooth your skin, and the acne was textured.

It was depressing. You didn't want to use that word, it felt ungrateful to compare your skin issues to something so severe, but it made you miserable.

You but down on your quivering lip, pushing away from the mirror unhappily and opening the bathroom door, a frown on your face.

"Y/N!" a familiar voice said.

You jumped, startled but unsurprised. Fred had a talent of always knowing where you were. You'd find it creepy if he wasn't so endearing.

"Fred," you said, plastering a smile over your frown. "I was just coming to find you."

"What a coincidence, ma chérie, I was doing the same."

"Well," you began, easily sidling into his space, "you found me."

"Yes, I did," Fred hummed, wrapping his arms behind your neck, grinning.

He took a long look at your face, his forehead creased. "What's wrong?"

"Nothings wrong, Fred."

He moved his hands to your shoulders, looking down into your face searchingly. "Have you been crying?" he asked.

You shook your head, lying without thinking. "Something in my eye,"

"Both of them?"

You stepped backwards. He let go of your shoulders accordingly.

"Y/N?"

"It's really nothing," you said through a forced laugh.

He frowned at you for a few seconds more and his face cleared. "Alright," he said slowly, rolling the words in his mouth, "if you say so, doll."

You opened like a blooming flower at the pet name, your whole face softening. You smiled, hoping he understood that the smile meant, oh I just so adore you, Fred Weasley.

He threaded his fingers through yours, dragging you down the corridor beside him and waxing poetic about their newest lot of Peruvian darkness powder as you went.

-

It got so bad you couldn't go to class.

Okay, so you definitely could've gone to class, but the thought of leaving your curtained bed was enough to make you sick with anxiety, so worried that everyone would see you - see your face.

NEWTs were coming fast and hard. Everyone who wanted to be anyone was working hard studying their asses of, on top of Professor Umbridge's million new rules you had to abide by, including her newest life-ruining rule: Boys and girl are not to be within 5 inches of each other.

What a joke. You struggled through classes, wrote essays so long your hand burned at night and now you weren't allowed to sit next to your almost boyfriend at lunch? It was miserable. It was making you miserable, and now you may as well have sharpied on your forehead how equipped your body was to deal with it.

Fucking badly.

You groaned to yourself, rolling on your side to face the wall. You were at your wits end. It felt endlessly unfair that the thing that was stressing you out most was getting worse from stress.

Your stomach growled hungrily.

You threw your arm over your eyes in defeat, eyes finally filling with tears. You felt so hopeless. There was nothing to be done except keep up your routine until the flare up was over, or until your mothers next 'miracle cure' popped into existence.

The tears felt too hot against your sore skin. You couldn't help but sob quietly to yourself in self-pity.

A knock sounded at the door. You gasped, wiping the tears away in panic.

"Y/N?" It was Alicia. "Are you alright? Can I come in?"

"Yes," you managed. "Yes, of course. It's your room too, after all."

The door clicked open. Alicia appeared, tanned skin completely clear and glowing, though each perfect feature was marred with empathy. "Fred's been begging every girl in the common room to come fetch you, but I told him to leave you be."

"Thank you," you said.

You cleared your throat. Alicia moved her weight from foot to foot, twisting her hands.

"I- Y/N. I won't pretend to know how it feels, but I promise you, Fred won't care. He's beside himself worrying that you're bedridden and dying or-" she laughed to herself, "or that you're still mad at him for the itching powder. What I mean is... he's a good guy, and you're upset. Maybe you should tell him what's wrong. He won't care."

You sniffed. "I know," you admitted, feeling the weight of her shifting the bed. "I know he's a great guy. I just wouldn't blame him if he, if he didn't like me anymore. If he found it ugly. I would understand it, and I think that makes it worse," you choked on your words, heat building behind your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N," Alicia said, placing a tentative but comforting hand on your shoulder.

You lay in quiet, listening to your own ragged breathing.

"I'll go talk to him," Alicia said.

"No! I mean, no. Thank you, but no. I... I'll speak to him myself."

Alicia nodded, rubbing your arm kindly.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind her finally spurred you into sitting up. You dressed in a hurry, chucking a wool jumper over last nights pyjamas.

He wouldn't care, would he? You cringed. Yes, he definitely would. Whatever was between you would stop. He'd have the grace to let you down slowly, drawing away his affections. He was a polite guy, he'd probably even say the whole spiel of "it's not you, it's me". But he would, eventually.

Well, you figured. Let it be quick. Like ripping off a bandaid.

You tread lightly down the steps, hoping to see him before he saw you.

Of course, when the slightest groan on the bottom step sounded, his lovely face whipped to meet yours. He smiled in relief, but it was mixed with something else. Disgust, your brain supplied nastily. He was disgusted. He rose to his feet, smiling smiling smiling. But something in his eyes was different, now.

"Y/N," he said.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi yourself, beautiful. Where've you been all day?"

"I'm... sick. Bad cold," you settled on.

He raised an eyebrow. "You sound okay," he said, not unkindly.

"I..." you looked down at your hands.

A siren was sounding in your head. You didn't think Fred had seen you without make up for the last 3 years. Fight or flight was leaning heavily towards flight.

"Well, are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten all day. You need something in your system if you're gonna fight this cold."

"I'm not actually sick, Fred," you admitted under your breath.

"I know."

You looked up. He was still smiling kindly. It was infuriating.

"Look," you said finally, rushed and all at once, "if you don't want to- if you're grossed out. Then it's fine, I'll understand if you don't want to see me anymore."

Fred was stricken.

"I know it's - ugly."

"Ugly? Nothing about you is ugly."

"Fred, my face-"

"No, listen to me, Y/N. It's not ugly. It's not gross. You're not any of those things, are you kidding?" he said, grabbing your hands. "You're beautiful. All the time, in the morning, afternoon and night. You're beautiful in charms and transfiguration and care of magical creatures. You were beautiful yesterday and you're beautiful today and you'll be even more so tomorrow." He stopped suddenly, looking down at your joined hands. His cheeks had turned bright red.

"Smooth, Freddie," came George's voice, from the sofa behind them.

"Shove OFF," exclaimed Fred, growing more red by the second. Heat filled your own cheeks.

"It's skin, Y/N. That's all it is."

"Okay," you said tightly, trying not to cry.

Fred breathed out, his hair shifting in response. His corded arms pulled you tight to his chest. You breathed him in. He smelled sweet and rough, like burning caramel.

He thought you were beautiful.

You smiled into his shirt.

<3<3<3

tag list: @msmimimerton

if you’d like to be added to a tag list, please ask ! for in general or for specific characters, i don’t mind

[harveywritings92]

BNHA Vampire soulmate au: they feed off you for the first time.

They explain to you how blood tastes to them and enjoy a meal... 

Tw: Blood drinking, heavy petting

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

Hawks: It's been a year you and Keigo seem to be together, you've been talking about moving in together anywho, You got a paper cut and Keigo who was crashing at your placed smelled it from your living room, he nearly gave you a heart attack when you turned around to see him standing behind you, his gold eyes had red tinge as he eyed your finger like a like man who hasn't eaten in a week. "Ey, there I thought you've already had enough to drink today?" you were referring to the black and red sports bottle he'd brought with him. "I did, It's just- You have no Idea how hard I've been holding back, your blood it does something to me..." Keigo husked eyes locked on the crimson nectar dripping down your hand he was salivating and swallowed hard. "My blood...does it smell good?" you asked timidly.

The blond snapped out of his trance. "Petal, you smell like ripe strawberries and chocolate to me..." Keigo has already told you how smoker's blood smells and taste to him, well you now you were curious about non-smokers, and asked if blood type also has an effect on the blood's flavor? the winged vamp was happy to answer! 

Smokers: Charcoal/moldy bread.

Drunks: depends on how drunk they are, it's somewhere between hard soda and hard wine or liquor.

Drug users: no idea, he says they smell like rotten eggs, and he's seen how loopy other vamps act after feeding on them and stays clear of them.

Sick/injured: He stays away from sick people but they smell like a cross between a hospital or a funeral home.

Virgins: sweet/tart like fruit-punch.

regular folks: like Sangria the fruitiness is still there but it's mixed with bitter wine . 

"Blood types don't really change up the flavors, but I've noticed type As have a spice to them, Bs start off sour, and type Os are pretty mellow." You hummed very intrigued at what you were hearing then, noticed Keigo was still eyeing your finger, like a starved animal, you looked down at the cut then back Keigo and noticed his wings were tense and he was clenching his jaw, after some thought you sighed you held your hand out to him. "Go head before your jaw breaks" His wings bristled. "I'm not some desperate leech y'know." he huffed you shrugged and went to went to put a band-aid on, but Keigo stopped you.

"Let's not be hasty here..."  He stammered out at you cocked a brow at him. "Yer really giving me mixed signals here." you huffed did he want your blood or not? " Um... Are you sure about this?" he said blush adoring his cheeks. "I'm just letting you suck my finger...Why are you acting like I just asked you to pop my cherry?" Keigo's face was as red as a cherry as you said this. "Because you essenually are..." He explained the big difference between mates and prey, on instinct he wouldn't give a crap about some rando he picked up off the street or whatever mystery pack the commission gives him, but you... 

You're his soulmate, his fated one... and right now your pretty much telling him to make you his! He's not gonna stop at your finger, once he's had a taste he's going for your neck! And once he bites you that's it, you have his mark forever, You paused absorbing what the blond male just told you...Well, he hardly leaves you alone already might as well go all in? "Do it." Hawks's eyes were red now. "Come" he hissed sitting across from you and gesturing to sit in his lap.

You complied and watched Keigo warily as he brought your finger to his mouth, immediately you felt a shock go through you the second Keigo's tongue started lapping at the cut, he moaned tasting your blood for the first time. He was right you tasted every bit as sweet as he thought you would...*more...more...* his monster groaned euphorically he felt the cut on your finger close from his saliva's healing properties.

Keigo's eyes drifted towards your neck, You gasp feeling his grip on your hand tighten before his free hand found it's way behind your head, you tensed seeing Keigo's fangs elongate but before he could pierce your neck he smelled your distress.

His rough hold on you suddenly slacked and his hands lowered to your hips his thumbs gently rubbed you sides as he left little kisses and nip along your jaw before you calmed down enough to trust Hawks wasn't gonna tear your throat out. "Just relax." he cooed kissing you neck a couple more times like a countdown. one...two... three! 

You tried not to scream as you felt his fangs pierce your neck, your fingers gripped his jacket as you felt yourself be drained... then like a switch had been slowly tuned the pain tuned into pleasure? moans started sneaking their out from your mouth which confused you, the blond vampire groaned in ecstasy at how rich your blood tasted with lust mixed in he buck his hips against you, after what seemed like hours Keigo's fangs finally retracted from your flesh and lap at the two holes he left on your neck, they sealed as you whimpered weakly Keigo just shushed and you. "It's alright kid, you did good" he cooed kissing your head as you started drifting out of consciousness.   

When you woke up your head was pounding like a bad hangover Keigo was cradling you in his lap looking relieved and sheepish, he explained he went a little overboard with his drinking and venom dosing and you got drunk on him and passed out! you must've looked panicked cos Keigo assured you were completely fine, the venom isn't lethal... (To you anyways, one of the benefits of being a vampire's soulmate.) Though you might be a bit feverish and cranky for the next couple days.  

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

Dabi: You were on your period so yes Dabi's self restraint was breaking! you had no fucking idea what you blood was doing to him you smelled like a 5 star meal and all he could do was sit and drown in his own drool and watch you, like a hawk as you moaned and groaned about  cramps and ruining your pajama shorts when you woke up this morning! a low growl escaped the faux raven haired vamp when he saw you toss out a bag with said aforementioned shorts, it took every nerve in him not to run after the garbage truck like a starved dog! before something you said snapped him out of his trance. "hn...What ya say?" he looked at you drinking his third pack of cow's blood.

"I asked if my blood smells good and what does it taste like?"

"I wouldn't know haven't tasted yours yet..."

"Well, what about anyone else's?" 

"Why are you suddenly interested?"

You huffed "Sorry for wanting to know you..." and were about to tell him to forget it, when the the undead cremator spoke up. "Mocha mixed wit' something spicy like cinnamon or rum" he muttered not looking at you. Of course you cocked a brow now intrigued, now that that was out of the bag he might as well tell ya the rest. 

Smokers: burnt rubber/earwax (eh, everyone was a kid once, had to know what that gunky crap in your ear tasted like.)

Drunks: Depends on how much they've drank, it could between hard water to straight up red wine.

Drug users: the one time he fed on one he thought they were just a pothead, but in turned out they had ate a few shrooms which made them kinda taste like... orange juice and black liquorice?... Honestly he can't give a straight answer, as he was too busy trippin out on another plain of existence to remember.  

Sick/injured: doesn't feed off the sick, but they smell like a hospital or a morgue.

Virgins: like apples and honey

Regular folks: they taste like Apple cider. 

Animal blood: kinda tastes like artificial cherry cough syrup, and he hates it!

"Then why do you drink it?" you gulped seeing his cerulean eyes flash red for a brief second as he locked eyes with you. "Why?...*growl* your standing in front of me smelling like a walking buffet and you have to gall ask me why I drinking this crap?!" he snapped crushing the blood pack in his hand as you started backing away, you were nervous that only fueled Dabi's sadistic side you learned early that he enjoyed agitating you via flashing his fangs, popping behind you out of seemingly nowhere, and faking you out.

I.E. making it seem like he was gonna bite you then blow air in your ears before walking away laughing at your reaction, something about putting you on edge and having your adrenaline pumping through your veins adds more "spice" to your scent, it happens so often that Dabi started noticing arousal was mixing in with your fear, you bet your ass he started mocking you for getting off on him scaring you. 

Of course right now you weren't sure if he was seriously mad, or making fun of you again? He was not making fun of you again he was seriously pissed off, The nerve of you walking around asking him about useless crap, and offering him nothing in return! Dabi had you backed against a wall face buried in your shoulder you felt him sniffing you and flinched you felt him nipping along your neck, and like all the other times he's riled you he smelled that that little speck of arousal through the fear. 

He let out a low chuckle causing you to to become fed up, you though he was screwing with you again! "Goddamm-.hm!" You were cut off by sharp yelp as Dabi's fang suddenly pierced your neck! oh god it hurt! you whimpered tried shoving Dabi off! he groaned pushing your back against the wall, suddenly your body felt weird... you moaned it was hot and and everything felt sensitive...

You barely registered Dabi lifting your legs up you instinctively wrapped them around his hips, he let out a low purr and his demeanor became less angry and forceful, his shoulders relaxed as his hands gently rubbed your legs, after what seemed like hours Dabi finally pulled away from your neck lapping at the pin holes he left on, he checked on you only to find you passed out his eye had a rare tenderness to them as he eyed your flushed appearance. "Well aren't you high maintenance." he cooed his thumb caressing you chin before taking you to bed.   

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

Bakugou: He didn't want say what you smelled like to him as it made him look soft, he finally cracks after more poking a prodding. "If I fucking do will you shut up and let me sleep?!" he hissed it was 8: 47 p.m. and he was tired which confused you, the sun was still out and you could hear kids playing in the streets outside. You heard a angry growl Katsuki's ears were pink. "S'mores...you smell like S'mores, happy?" he groaned when you started shaking him, no point in trying to sleep now that he's lit the fuse! He gave you the sum up of what blood tastes like to him.

Smokers: old news paper and figs.

Drug users: No clue stays clear of them, they smell like pickled eggs.

Drunks: Somewhere between hard water and flavored vodka.

Virgins: Why would you want to kno-... arhg! Coffee and vanilla!

Regular folks: Irish coffee and bitter mint.

Then you you started asking about blood types and what it was when he drank, Next thing you knew Katsuki let out this frustrated bellow! You yelped as he grabbed your wrists and pinned you under him. "You wanna know what it feels like?" you sheepishly mumbled a meek "yes" but the blonds red eyes narrowed. "Hah? say that again I couldn't hear ya?" he jeered trying to get you to use your voice, you repeated "Yes" again a bit more forceful as the ash blond unbuttoned the shirt he let you borrow exposing your neck to him. 

Katsuki frowned he could smell your reluctance, then grumbled in annoyance as he recalled Shitty-hair's advice ""Take it slow, be gentle..."" He took a deep breath and carefully buried his face in you neck, You flinched expecting him to clamp down, giving how much you annoyed him, but to your surprise; Katsuki instead opted to started leaving kisses along your jaw and collar bone.

You bit back a moan when he found you sweet spot and causing Katsuki to smirk if wasn't so hungry and tired right now, he might've taken this much farther, but the mouthwatering scent of your blood calling him was too much to pass up. "I'm gonna do it" he husked as you nodded and with that, Katsuki's fangs pierced your neck.

You gasped in pain felling them puncture your skin as Katsuki grasped your hand, the blond groaned in euphoria your blood tasted every bit as rich and sweet as he thought it would, he could smell your discomforted and on instinct inject a doses of his venom into your bloodstream in minutes your blood's flavor intensified with added lust, your tiny moans and whimpers were music to his hears, soon his instincts were warning him stop.

Katsuki's fangs retracted he lapped at the punctures he left on your neck, before pulling away to look at you and snorted you were a flushed out mess. "That sate your curiosity?" he huffed fixing your shirt you tried to say something but were too exhausted to say anything tangible, the ash blond chuckled and settled down next to you for the night.   

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

[hotwings0203]

Bully!Dabi pt. 3

Tags: @shikamaruscumrag @pinkiy13l @an-ambivalent @luno614 @sukunasleftkneecap

Tw:dubcon, noncon, bullying, manipulation, Russian roulette

“Doll? Come on out and I won’t hurt you too bad.”

You wait with bated breath as he walks right past your hiding place behind some crates, blue fire licking up the sides of his body and held in the palms of his scarred hands.

He’s mad, you know he is. He’s teasing you, of course he is, why else wouldn’t he just turn on the lights and pounce?

No, this is another punishment of sorts. A punishment for escaping your previous punishment from being locked in your room.

Another lash of burning cobalt strikes against a wall about 10 feet away from you, and you curse yourself internally. If only you had just stayed in bed a couple days more, if only you hadn’t snuck out when he left, if only, if only…

“Baaaabbyyyyy”

It sounds so wrong and uncharacteristic coming out from his gravely voice.

You huddle your limbs even closer to yourself, paying no mind to the cramping in your knees from being squished for so long.

It’s been about 25 minutes or so from what you can remember. It’s hard to remember anything that happened this bland morning anyways when the climax of your life was seemingly taking place here, after you entered the wrong room.

You had honestly just wanted a peek outside of Dabi’s room and maybe a drink of water, nothing more.

Or so you tell yourself.

But can you really be blamed? Who else wouldn’t have run out the moment they got a chance after spending almost two weeks in the same shitty room, being used as fuckmeat and only given bread scraps and salty cum as meals.

It didn’t matter how close he held you at night, how his strokes seemed to brush up against all the right places, how he tried catching your eye every time he wanted to talk about anything (which you would never really indulge in, only giving him a soft grunt or a nod). He was a monster, a demon in disguise that was keeping you against your will in his clutches.

A loud crash closer than before hits your ears, and you stifle an impending whimper. You can tell he’s roamed closer than before, finding nothing from his earlier place in the front of the storage room.

“I’m getting pretty fucking tired of repeating myself doll. You must be even more of a masochist than I thought since it’s like you want me to fuck you up even worse than I did before.”

His words are quiet but they do enough to cause a loud beating in your already-pacing heart, so loud in fact that you fear he can hear it racing a mile a minute.

You wonder if anyone is nearby, if they even remember you’ve been missing for a while now.

“Y/N”

“Come out, pretty girl. You know I miss you”

But you don’t miss him.

What you do miss, however, is not being chased into an empty storage room and hounded like a fucking dog. You miss joking with Twice, painting your nails with Toga, making Shigaraki chuckle.

All of a sudden, the crate next to you is covered with hellfire. The flames that are thrust from Dabi’s hands are so wild that they seat through your shirt and prick your skin.

You scream and scrabble backwards, the light of his fire illuminating his face leering up above you in the dark like a ghoul from a children’s book.

You clap your hands over your mouth, ignoring your bubbling skin as fear overrides premonition, but the damage has already been done.

It’s eerily quiet for a minute. Then, he whispers,

“Found you”

Even in the pitch black room you can practically see him lunging towards you, and you scuttle backwards on your hands and feet in terror. His hands miss your bare feet by a few inches, and he snarls before making another swipe.

“Fucking bitch, this is the thanks I get for taking care of you, bathing you, feeding and fucking you?”

You yelp as he lights up the floor on both sides of your trembling body, and you see his figure once more as the blue fire shows the sick grin twisted up on his face.

“Leave me alone,” you sob, clambering up on your feet and running backwards as he advances on you. The smoke from his quirk is filling the room, and you erupt in hoarse coughs as it’s filtered through your aching lungs.

Everything about him is toxic.

“Nah. That’s not how this works sweetheart. You see, I take care of you, and in return, you do whatever the fuck I say when I say it.”

He raises his palms to you and you flinch, covering your head and colliding with the wall behind you. You’re too scared and tired to evade him again as you feel his body cover you and brush against yours as you shake in place, your arms still above your face.

He cooes at you. “There there, my stupid little bitch. You were scared daddy was gonna hurt you, right?”

His stitched palm caresses your bitten bottom lip and trails up to your tear-stained cheek.

After a moment of you saying nothing, he slaps the side of your face, hard, and you gasp in pain. Now it wasn’t just your stomach that felt on fire.

“I asked you a question, you brain dead whore. Are you scared daddy’s gonna burn you? ‘You scared he’s gonna beat you black you blue? ‘Scared he’s gonna cut a gaping hole in your burnt tummy and fuck the gash?” He leans in and lets his raspy words settle over your ears as he tenderly brushes your hair away from it. He softly kisses the shell of you ear, and when you sob quietly he wraps his arms around your middle and hugs you close, paying no heed to how you uncomfortably squirm when your raw torso burns from the contact.

You squeeze your eyes shut and try not to inhale too much, lest the smoke embedded all over his body gets too close for comfort in your system.

“Y-yes daddy. Please don’t hurt me, I was…a bad girl.” You cringe when the words are wobbled out, but you know it’s what he wants.

To humiliate you, to hurt you. Who was he kidding when he said he loved you?

Dabi, however, feels butterflies in his own stomach.

See, this is what you need. To answer to Daddy, to submit to him so that he can take care of you. That’s why you stayed so long in his room, right? It’s cause you knew it would make him happy if you listened to him. You let him make love to you, and treat you like his little girl because deep down, you know this is where you belong.

So why are you fighting him? You never raised a complaint for a week and a half, you only stayed quiet and kept your eyes shut when he asked if you were okay. That means you liked it, right? No real opposition, after all.

Except for now.

Dani is honestly disappointed in you right now, you were doing so well…so why’d you have to go and ruin it?

He might’ve softened from the way your body shakes and your sobs are muffled by his smoke-scorched jacket as you press against him for comfort, but the image of you turning around and running away when you saw him earlier hurts him too much.

It angers him.

Why the fuck were you so scared? Hasnt he shown you enough that he loved you? What, does he need to fucking spell it out for you?

Why were your eyes filled with such terror when he caught you? Did you turn away from him and run because you thought he was going to make you look like him, all burnt up and hideous?

Honestly, he would never, but if you’re so hellbent on making him the bad guy, then fine, he’ll play the bad guy.

Anything for his precious little girl.

And so he tightens his arms around you and chuckles cruelly when you whine at the lack of air.

“Well, you were right. I am pretty pissed, I mean I told you to come out and you didn’t listen right?”

“S-sorry,” you weakly choke out.

He laughs even more crazed now, crushing your ribs so tight he could actually hear your breath wheezing out of you, could feel your weak little punches against his back.

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it. No no, I want you to beg for your fucking life now.”

Your eyes widen as his arms begin to warm up and become unbearably hot.

“Dabi, no, no please!”

You writhe in pain as he cackles above you, savoring the choked breaths that emit from your wetted lips.

As soon as you begin to see spots, he releases you, and flings you against the corner of the room.

You go flying and bang your head against the concrete wall, his voice muted and swimming around in your ears as you fight for consciousness.

He saunters towards you in all his flaming glory, hands in his pockets as if he were walking out for some fresh air. He crouches in front of you and lifts your head with the pads of his fingers.

“Awww, my poor little girl. That had to have hurt, huh? You’re bleeding,” he cooes and blows a strand of hair away from your eyes.

He’s not lying, you can feel hot blood trickle down the side of your head as your vision sways.

“Stop this,” you pant. “I get it, I’m sorry- you were right and I was wrong, I shouldn’t have ran. I’ll listen to you from now on-“

“-But you said that last time, didn’t you?” He cocks his head and with the light of his turquoise fire against the shadows of the room, he looks like a being from hell itself.

“Remember? When you sucked me off like the dirty whore you are? Remember that you stupid cunt?” His grin becomes more reminiscent of a wolf baring its fangs, and you’re rendered silent in complete terror.

He takes your silence as an encouraging factor to continue his fun.

“You ever played Russian Roulette, Y/N?”

You have enough sense to quickly shake your head, a sinking feeling in your stomach forming at his implication.

“Me neither. But I kinda wanna try it right now. So, back against the wall. Stand up straight and spread your legs.”

You look at him incredulously. “You can’t be serious Dabi.”

He raises an eyebrow and a fire grows in the palm of his hand. “Wanna find out? Oh wait, you already are- now do what I said otherwise you’ll have one less leg.”

You don’t need more motivation to act on his orders.

Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly spread your legs and place your palms flat against the wall.

“Spread ‘em more. That shouldn’t be anything new to you.”

You wince at his dig but continue to widen the stance between your legs.

He smiles at your compliance.

“Good. This should be fairly easy, I mean the room is already dark enough to count as having a blindfold. Whatever you do, just don’t move.”

You wouldn’t know it, but he’s sincerely saying it for your sake. He’s glad for the safety of the dark, because he doesn’t want you to see the way he hastily wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans as he prepares himself for his next move.

The room goes dark, his fire has been put out.

You inhale softly, blood pounding in your heart as your hands shake in anticipation.

Then all of a sudden, a fireball comes barreling right towards you, in between your parted legs.

You shriek and jerk, but luckily you’re saved from being singed.

“I told you not to move, babe.” He clicks his tongue and rubs his erection absentmindedly.

A second, then third bolt of fire comes at the side of your head, singing your hair and then dangerously close to your already burnt stomach.

At each one you sob and do your best not to move, not to take in Dabi’s utterly emotionless face as you wail for mercy.

The last one comes so powerful that as it strikes the wall next to you, flecks of ash sting your cheeks and lips.

Your knees are jelly, your mouth is aching from begging for your life as he wanted.

But you know he’s done when he lets out a loud yawn and groan as he stretches his arm and flexes his fingers.

“A-are we done?” You sniffle.

He says nothing at first. You just hear him ask a couple steps towards you, his boots echoing in the room. You assume he stops in front of you because you can feel his body in front of your kneeling figure.

His hand descends and feels around until he reaches the top of your head. Stroking softly, he twirls locks through his fingers and gently shushes you until your hiccups subside, and you lean your forehead against his thigh.

“‘You happy it’s done? You did so well for me, sweetheart.”

“Yes Dabi. Thank you,” you utter softly, knowing it’s what he wants to hear.

“Yeah? How thankful are you?”

You still at that.

He starts to unbuckle his belt.

You pull your head back, and he pulls his pants down.

“Dabi-“

“Shhh, don’t ruin this. Just keep your mouth shut and let your body do the talking. Show me how grateful you are that I spared your fucking life.”

The gentle way he handled you clashed with his harsh words, and you have a moment of whiplash.

He kneels down in front of you and lets his hands wander in the dark until he meets your torso.

You hiss at the sensitive flesh, but he doesn’t stop. He just moves his hand under your shirt and higher, pushing your bra up until your tits spill from the bottom of it.

He bites his lip as you whimper from his touch, his thumbs swirling around your nipples and prodding the squishy flesh.

Dabi gets more eager when you throw your head back at one particularly rough squeeze and shuffles even closer, his pants and underwear at his knees, member bouncing out in the open air.

“Take your panties off,” he rasps, furiously stroking his cock.

You surrender and slowly pull your sweats off, and then your panties as you hear him lightly panting in eagerness.

The second he hears them drop to the floor he lunges for your feet and yanks your forward, catching you in his lap as you yelp.

It’s pitch black, but he can feel you clear as day.

The tickle of your hair hanging in his face, your sweet smell clouding his rationale, the melodious sounds of fear and pleasure mixed with pain make his prick stand painfully at attention, weeping at the slit for your pussy.

He doesn’t even bother taking your shirt off in impatience, he simply barks at you to hold the hem up so he can feel your breasts bouncing against his face when he motorboats them.

You, however, shakily hold his hand at your waist when he pulls you forward until your bare hole presses against his length, coating it with light juices.

“Oh fuck, doll, your pussy’s practically begging me to fuck it. ‘You like having your life in danger? No wonder you keep fucking up,” he groans as he moved beneath you, letting his hips rock back and forth to gain friction from under you.

“Wait, go slowly-“

“No the fuck I won’t,” he interrupts. You have enough sense to bite back any retorts from the subtle growl in his words.

He lifts you up from underneath your ass, and you raise your hips in compliance as he grabs his dick, circling it around your swollen nub and then pressing it against your entrance.

You breath shakily and run your hands through his hair, not so much in a loving gesture but tightly in futile hopes to deter him in any possible way.

He takes it either way as you wanting him equally, and without further ado he slams your hips down on his whole length.

You howl in pain as he begins bouncing you, pressing down on your shoulders and forcing your poor cunt to envelope him fully at each stroke.

The room is filled with the lewd sounds of your ass clapping on his dick, the mixed fluids from both of your bodies and the harmonies of his low grunts and your high pitched whines.

You can feel his dick twitch violently inside of you as he nears his climax. He flips you over on your back and starts pounding into you, laughing cruelly in your face as you cry out from the intensity of his strokes.

“D-Dabi! Pull out, I’m not on birth control!”

“Good.”

You open your eyes to stare at him in horror, barely making out the marred features of his face.

“I’m gonna fill you up with my babies. You’re gonna be plugged with my cum from now on, ‘s the only way you’ll stop running.”

“Get the fuck off me, this isn’t funny-!”

He grabs your rising fists and pins them back against the floor, crushing your wrists in the process.

“Who said I’m laughing?” And he isn’t laughing anymore, no, on the contrary he looks the most serious that he’s ever been, and that terrifies you the most.

The upper half of his body is suspended in midair above you as his pelvis smashes against your clit in a steady rhythm.

“‘Bet you’d like that, bet you’d like having all your holes stuffed with my kids. They’re gonna grow up and know how slutty their mommy was, they’re gonna watch and learn how Daddy earned his name. You think they’ll cry when they hear you scream for me?”

You want to rip out your ears from the filth pouring from his mouth, but unfortunately your hands are trapped under his grasp.

All you can do is chant “no, no, no,” under your breath as he’s pushed over the edge.

“Or maybe I’ll tie your legs against the barstools outside and let every man out there have his way with you. You missed them, right? I’m sure they missed you too, I’m sure they missed the way you’d fuck them the second they made you laugh,” bitterness seeps into his voice as ropes of cum shoot out.

He moans loudly in your ear and collapses against your body, sweat intermingling in the cervices of your entangled limbs.

It takes around three minutes for you both to catch your breaths, and for him to shakily raise himself on his elbows to peer down into your ruddy face.

“Clean yourself up. You’re going back to my room. And this time, if you try to run we’ll repeat this entire process again, but I’ll actually let everyone have their way with you. It’ll be like an orgy version of Russian Roulette, well all place bets on whose kid it is.”

You don’t miss the rest of the League, anymore

[narutogwriting]

Ruin the Friendship

⋇✦ Pairing: Naruto Uzumaki x Reader

⋇✦ Genre: angst; fluff; oneshot

⋇✦ CW: none

⋇✦ Length: 2.5k+

⋇✦ @gaarasandpit just a angst/fluff naruto x reader request if you’re up for it 🥰 maybe where the reader and him are somewhat close friends and he notices she’s drifting from him because her feelings get in the way? he’s oblivious and hurt about it then confrontation happens ending up in a good old love confession

“Cmon! Open up!” Naruto called from outside your house, pounding on the door like he had been incessantly for the past five minutes. “I know you’re in there!”

He did not, in fact, know whether or not you were in there, but he couldn’t imagine where else you would be.

All week you’d been missing; Naruto couldn’t find you anywhere. Sometimes he would see the flick of your hair from the corner of his eye or his ears would pick up the sound of your laugh, but by the time he turned to find you, you’d be gone.

Your absence in Naruto’s life wasn’t something of a minor inconvenience; it was a constant pain, as if he was missing a part of his own body. Iruka had joked that Naruto missing you was akin to that of a phantom limb, like there was something of him that should be there and it wasn’t and he ached because of it.

“No, Naruto. We haven’t seen her,” Shikamaru shrugged. Ino nodded her agreement.

“Sorry. Maybe she’s on a mission or something.

Naruto frowned, sighing in frustration. “Alright, well, thanks.” He muttered before he sulked off. Shikamaru and Ino watched him go, waiting until he disappeared before Ino gave you a kick under the table.

“Ow!” you whined as you crawled out from underneath, rubbing your shoulder.

Ino rolled her eyes at you. “You’re lucky Naruto’s an idiot, or he definitely would have seen you.” She told you as you slid yourself down into the seat next to her. “Remind me: why are you avoiding him again?”

Propping your elbows on the table, you rested your head in your hands as you gave a forlorn sigh. That was a loaded question. You were avoiding Naruto because the absolute worse thing that could ever occur had happened.

You’d fallen in love with the idiot blond.

And how could you not? You’d been best friends with Naruto for the longest time. He was a constant in your life, always at your side. It was rare that one of you was seen without the other.

There was no one in the entire world that could make you smile or laugh the way that he could. Whenever you were sad or hurt, he always had the words to make it all better. Naruto had the type of smile that could save people, and you were no exception. There wasn’t a person in the world that could meet someone with a heart like Naruto’s and not walk away changed.

It had been a slow thing, a soft, unsure growing. It wasn’t a feeling you’d recognized at all once, because you always loved Naruto.

It wasn’t totally strange for you to get excited when you saw him or miss him when he was gone. It wasn’t unusual to think about him before you went to sleep.

But when you began to wake up and your first thought was, “my god he’s beautiful” when you looked at the picture of the two of you on your night stand, that was a little strange. You never used to spend extra time in the morning doing your makeup when you knew you were going to see him soon.

And you never used to blush when he smiled at you. Even you could tell you laughed a little too hard when he said something even remotely funny.

It was one day when the two of you were taking a walk that it happened. He was telling you a story, his motions large and exaggerated. Of course, he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. As he turned to you, arms raised high over his head, his foot hit a rock. Naruto went sprawling to the floor, rolling across the ground and landing flat on his back.

You burst out laughing at the scene, hurrying to kneel at his side. “Are you okay!?” You asked him between giggles.

Naruto’s face was bright red with embarrassment as he laid on the floor. He looked up at you, smiling sheepishly. “Oops…”

It was such a simple thing, but you’d looked at Naruto and thought, “I love him so much.”

Nothing had ever startled you more.

Of course you loved Naruto; that was a given. It was never anything that needed to be thought or said. It was just a fact. But as soon as you had thought the words, you knew that it was different this time. You didn’t just love Naruto.

You were in love with him.

You’d hoped that the feelings would fade. Maybe it was just a fluke or a passing crush. Day in and day out, you waited for your feelings to go back to normal, but now that you’d acknowledged them, they only seemed to grow stronger. It got to the point where you couldn’t even look at naruto without turning into a blushing mess. It was pathetic.

So you’d decided there was only one reasonable solution: you would have to avoid him for as long as it took for the feelings to go away.

And of course you didn’t want to stay away from him. Being with him was as natural as breathing. But the way you saw it, if he found out about your feelings, your friendship could be ruined forever. This way, you could take some space, move on, and resume your friendship like nothing happened.

But Naruto wasn’t making that easy.

You hadn’t realized just how much time you and Naruto spent together until you were trying to distance yourself from him. He was everywhere. Every meal, every free moment, he was by your side or trying to be at least.

“Wanna go eat?” “Wanna go train with me?” “Let’s watch a movie!” “I heard there’s gonna be a festival in the next town over!”

You couldn’t get away from him. So this past week, you’d taken to hiding from him every time you saw him, deciding it was easiest to just avoid him completely. In all honesty, you couldn’t believe just how much time and effort Naruto was putting in to trying to find you.

But of course he was putting in effort. Because you were his best friend and he couldn’t understand it; where you’d gone or why you weren’t talking to him. Had he done something wrong? Were you mad at him or something? Your absence in Naruto’s life was drawing out every insecurity he hadn’t even realized he still had. He was worried, drowning in anxiety.

What if you’d decided you didn’t want to be his friend anymore? Maybe you were annoyed with him, found him to be too much. When you and Naruto had first become friends, he thought it was too good to be true. There was no way that someone as nice and pretty and cool as you would want to be friends with him. No one had ever wanted to be his friend before.

But there you were with your sweet smile and calming presence. You had accepted Naruto, every piece of him, without question or reservation. You meant everything to him, so the thought of losing you had sent Naruto into a panic.

You’d managed to avoid Naruto for a full week and a half. The past three days, as far as you knew, he hadn’t even made an effort to find you. It was a relief and heartbreaking all at once. You needed your space, but it hurt to think that maybe Naruto didn’t miss you at all anymore.

These were the thoughts racing through your head when you crawled into bed that night. You doubted you’d be getting much sleep; you’d barely gotten any since you had started avoiding Naruto.

Pulling the covers over yourself, you closed your eyes and tried to get comfortable. It seemed like hours you laid there awake before tiredness finally started to drift over you. You could feel yourself slowly dozing off to sleep when a sudden loud noise startled you awake. Sitting up quickly, your eyes darted to the window where the noise had come from.

Naruto had forcefully pried open the window, shoving himself not-so-gracefully through the opening and crashing onto the floor.

He quickly jumped to his feet, rubbing his head with a small wince before his eyes landed on you, widening slightly.

“Ah ha! I got you!” He shouted victoriously, pointing his finger in your direction. “You can’t hide from me anymore, believe it!”

God, he was too cute for words and that was exactly the problem. Your heart practically burst just looking at him as he appeared so accomplished and excited.

But the triumphant look on his face slowly vanished as he stared at you. When he spoke, his voice came out quietly, dripping with dejection. “Where have you been?”

Quietness settled over the room as the two of you stared at each other. Naruto made no move to get closer to you, and you likewise stayed strapped in your seat. “I’m sorry…” You offered weakly, unsure of what else to say.

“Don’t be sorry!” Naruto snapped, anger quickly replacing his despaired features. “Tell me why! What the hell? You think you can just avoid a guy? Cut me off like I’m nothing to you!?” He was trembling, his usual happy grin twisted into a broken grimace so despondent it took you off guard. You had caused that hurt that Naruto was feeling. The thought made you sick.

“If you don’t want to be my friend anymore, at least say something!” Naruto spat. “Don’t just run from me like a coward! If you have something to say, say it to my face!”

There was a harsh edge to Naruto’s voice that he never used with you before. Not in all of your years of friendship. You realized suddenly just how badly you’d hurt Naruto by avoiding him. It wasn’t something you’d considered; you’d only wanted some space so you could get back to normal with him.

But you saw it clearly now, the damage that you had done. Suddenly, in this moment, he was the lonely, isolated child that he had been before you met, feeling alone and abandoned in the world. And this time, it was because of you.

The regret was like bile on your tongue, and you wished fiercely that you could take back the past week and do it differently. You couldn’t stand the thought that it was you who had caused this damage to your best friend, the guy you loved so much.

You didn’t have any words to fix it. All you had was the truth.

“I love you.”

The words slipped from your mouth before you could pull them back in. And once they were out, they couldn’t be taken back.

Confusion quickly settled on Naruto’s face. It was as if you could see the anger dissipate from his body. He stared at you, mouth slightly agape, while he tried to process what you’d just said. “You… What?”

Turning bright red, you pulled the blanket back over your head in embarrassment. You couldn’t believe you’d just said that! Now there would never be any going back to the way that things were, but you had to tell him. You couldn’t just let him think that you were cutting him off without reason.

“I said I love you…” You muttered from under the blanket. “I’m in love with you, Naruto. I have been for a while now, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. So I thought if I just took some space and didn’t see you for a while, then maybe I would get over it, and then we could just keep things the way they were…”

It was much easier to get the words out when you were under the blanket and couldn’t see him, but you were still nauseous with anxiety as you told him how you felt. Your heart was steeling itself for rejection as you waited for his response.

The only noise was shuffling as Naruto came to your bed. You could feel the indent as he sat down next to you. He grabbed your blanket, slowly peeling it off of you and despite your reluctance, you let him.

You didn’t look at him as you pushed yourself back up into a sitting position. You’d never been so embarrassed before.

“Did it work?” He asked you quietly.

Fidgeting with the hem of your night shirt, you mumbled, “Did what work?”

“Are you over me?”

The question took you off guard, lingering between the two of you, and you couldn’t help but flicker your eyes to his. He was staring earnestly at you with those wide blue eyes you loved so much. You wanted to lie to him but you just couldn’t.

“No.”

Naruto’s focused expression stretched into a wide grin as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you to him. You were too startled to respond, so you just stared at him, confused, instead.

“You scared me!” Naruto laughed happily as he rested his cheek against your head. “I thought you didn’t want to be my friend anymore! You didn’t have to completely avoid me, ya know.”

There was a mix of relief and disappointment at his reaction. So, he wasn’t weirded out about your confession? Things didn’t have to change. The two of you could stay ‘just friends.’

“So, we’re okay?” You asked him nervously. “We’re still friends?”

Naruto gave a puzzled hum as he pulled away from the hug to stare at you. He raised his eyebrow as he studied you for a moment. You could almost see the light bulb go off above his head as he realized.

“Oh!” He laughed, grinning sheepishly and rubbing his neck. “I guess I forgot to tell you it back, huh? I thought it was obvious! I love you too, believe it!”

You blinked as he giggled embarrassedly, that signature smile of his on his lips. “Naruto!” You snapped at him, lunging and knocking you both off the bed. He landed on his back with you on top of him as you rubbed your fist into his head. “You dummy!”

“Hey! Cut it out!” Naruto whined, squirming under your touch. “Is that any way to treat your boyfriend!?”

The question was enough to make you stop, your mouth frozen in a surprised “o” shape, just like he hoped. He laughed, sitting up and holding you to him before he placed a happy kiss to your cheek, making your face flush over red.

You placed your hands on his shoulders, looking at him as it finally sunk in what he said. He loved you too. He called himself your boyfriend. “Is that your way of asking me?” You questioned.

Naruto nodded earnestly. “And my way to get you to stop giving me a noogie! It’s a win win! Well, if you say yes, that is…”

Shaking your head, you laughed as your whole body softened in relief. Your arms slipped around his neck as you hugged him tightly. “Yes, obviously!” You told him. “Yes! I love you.” Naruto hugged you back just as fiercely. When he finally pulled away, he didn’t hesitate. His hand reached up to cup your cheek as he leaned forward, pressing a sweet, soft kiss to your lips.

Well, you guessed your friendship was officially ruined. But suddenly, you didn’t mind so much.

[storiesforallfandoms]

drunk mistakes ~ johnny depp

word count: 1576

request?: yes!

“If you write for Johnny Depp, can I request one where he and the reader have known each other for a while and he's madly in love with her but he's too shy to ask her out, afraid she would never like him because she's younger. Then one day at a party she gets drunk and kisses him, and the next morning she doesn't exactly remember it and he's hurt because the kiss made his feelings way stronger. After some days of Johnny being down, she talks with him and he finally confesses <3″

description: when she wakes up in her best friend’s bed and barley remembers the night before, their friendship is strained until she gets him to confess a secret he’s been keeping for years

pairing: teen!johnny depp x female!reader

warnings: swearing, underaged drinking, smoking

masterlist (one, two)

I groaned as the light hit my face, causing my head to pound as if it had been filled with nails. I felt like garbage. Why did I drink so much? Why did my friends let me drink so much?

I rolled over so my back was to the window, only to find a body in bed next to me. Despite the throbbing pain in my head, I yelped in shock and sat up quickly. That’s when I realized I wasn’t in my room and felt panic rising within me. What had I done last night? Or I guess who had I done?

My reaction woke the person sleeping next to me and I breathed out a sigh of relief when I realized it was my best friend, Johnny, and we were in his bedroom - luckily, both fully clothed.

“Sorry,” I sighed. “Forgot where I was for a second.”

“That would require you to remember getting here,” Johnny teased. “You were pretty drunk when I brought you here.”

He had a point. The last thing I remembered from the night before was arriving at my friend’s house for a part and immediately having a drink shoved in my hand. I didn’t even remember seeing Johnny at the party.

I laid back down and groaned again at the pain in my head. Johnny chuckled and got up to get me water and an Aspirin. I noticed my phone on the bedside table next to me and cringed at the thought of how many angry texts I likely had from my parents. I was pleasantly shocked to see the only text on my lock screen was from my mom, and it read, “Okay honey, text us in the morning.”

When Johnny returned, I turned my phone to face him. “Did you text my parents for me? There’s no way they’d be this calm if I texted them in my drunken state.”

Johnny chuckled in response. “You really don’t remember that?”

I shook my head. “I don’t remember anything from last night.”

His joking smile slowly fell. He passed me the glass of water and Aspirin and turned away from me. His voice was flat as he said, “You asked me to text them for you so they wouldn’t know you were drunk. I told them you stayed at Winona’s for the night.”

I swallowed the pill with a giant mouthful of cold water, which felt like heaven in my dry mouth.

“Why did I come here?” I asked. “I usually do stay at Winona’s when she throws a party.”

“You insisted on coming over. You crashed in my bed and...”

He trailed off. He still wouldn’t face me and I was starting to feel concerned. I got up and approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He pulled away from me, immediately heading towards his bedroom door again.

“I forgot there was...something my parents asked me to do. You can let yourself out, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Johnny, wait - ”

He closed the door on me before I could say anything else.

~~~~~~

Johnny ignored me the next day. He didn’t sit with us at lunch, and the one class he and I had together he skipped. I tried to text and call, I even went over to his house but his parents told me he wasn’t home.

This went on for a week. No one would tell me why. They kept claiming they didn't know what was happening, but I could tell when I was being lied to, especially by my friends.

Winona was my best friend, and it was her party I went to the day before Johnny stopped talking to me. She had to know the answers, and I knew she’d tell me eventually.

“I don’t know what happened,” she insisted. “We were all drunk, we were all doing stupid stuff.”

“We always stick together at parties, you had to have witnessed whatever I did to make Johnny mad.”

Winona looked at me and started to walk away. I weaved through the crowded school hallway to catch up with her. I took hold of her arm to stop her from walking and turned her to face me. “Winona, please. He’s my best friend, my other best friend. He hasn’t spoken to me in a week. Whatever I did, I need to fix it.”

She sighed before taking my arm and dragging me towards the girls bathroom. She checked the stalls to see if anyoone else was there before finally turning to face me again.

“You kissed Johnny.”

“What?!”

“Shh!” she said, glancing at the door behind me. “You were really drunk, and Johnny was kind of tipsy. Being the caring friend he is, he was trying to get you to drink water so you wouldn’t get too hungover. You told him you loved him and...and you kissed him. He was smart enough to stop you because he didn’t want to take advantage of you, but you were stuck to him all night after that. You even insisted on staying the night at his place instead of at mine, which is why you woke up there the next morning.”

I leaned against the bathroom sink, trying to digest the whole situation. I was trying to remember, but it was like someone had taken my memories of that night.

“I-I don’t understand, is he mad at me for that?” I asked. “He didn’t seem mad when we woke up.”

“He’s not mad, he’s...hurt.” I opened my mouth to respond, but she stopped me before I could. “Look...I didn’t tell you this but...Johnny has feelings for you. He has for a while and...he told Tim that that kiss intensified the feelings. When he realized you couldn’t even remember that night he felt hurt. He really hoped...”

She trailed off, but she didn’t need to finish her sentence. I knew what Johnny had hoped, and now I felt hurt knowing I had hurt him.

“Tell Mrs. Smith I went home sick,” I told Winona as I headed for the bathroom door.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“To find Johnny.”

~~~~~~

He came crawling under the bleachers moments after I had settled myself there. I had a cigarette lit between my fingers and had taken a small puff when he arrived.

“(Y/N), what are you doing here?” he asked.

“You’re my best friend, Johnny, I always knew this is where you went,” I told him. “I never came to talk because I figured you didn’t want to, but I think it’s time we discuss the issue of Winona’s party.”

He seemed hesitant at first, but when I offered him a puff from the cigarette he decided to settle next to me and accepted the cigarette.

“So, Winona told you?” he asked.

“After a lot of interrogation, yes,” I said. “Why wouldn’t you tell me, though? Or why wouldn’t any of our friends say anything?”

“I asked them not to,” he said. “I...I didn’t want our friendship to be ruined.”

“But you stopped talking to me for a week. Not even a warning or anything. I didn’t even remember what happened until I made Winona tell me. I thought you were mad with me.”

“I figured it was best that you didn’t remember.”

“Shouldn’t that be my decision to make?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he took another puff of the cigarette. I waited for him to blow the smoke out of his mouth before I asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you had feelings for me?”

He coughed in surprise, his eyes widening as he looked at me. “Winona told you that?”

“I promised I wouldn’t say.”

I took the cigarette back and held it between my fingers, wanting to take away Johnny’s only ability to waste time in his explanation.

“I told you, I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” he said. “You’re my best friend and we run in the same friend group, I can’t imagine ruining that whole dynamic because of some stupid feelings I have for you.”

“I wouldn’t call them stupid,” I said. “And maybe if you had told me, I would’ve told you sooner that I also have feelings for you.”

He shook his head, which I raised an eyebrow at in response.

“There’s no way,” he said. “You...you just said I’m your best friend.”

“And shouldn’t your significant other be your best friend?” I countered. “Johnny, I’ve had a crush on you since grade school. I thought it was just because I thought you were really cute, and then when we became friends I figured that’s all we were meant to be. But those feelings have always been there, I guess the same as they’ve been there for you.”

He was speechless, which made me giggle. I shuffled closer to him, so close that our shoulders were touching. I took one last puff from the still burning cigarette and put it out in the grass next to me. I rested my head on his shoulder and he placed his arm around mine.

“What do we do with this information now?” I asked.

“What do you want to do with it?” he responded.

“Well, we could go on a date.”

Johnny hummed as if he were thinking before saying, “What do you say we ditch the rest of the day and go to the diner instead?”

I smiled up at him and said, “Okay, I’d love that.”

[hqbaby]

40. hate | 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝 (𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

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(written portion! you can find a summary at the bottom if you have difficulty or simply don't feel like reading large chunks of text<33 word count: 1.1k)

“Do you, L/N Y/N, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, ‘til death do you part?”

Your grip on Kiyoomi’s hands goes slack. Looking at the man in front of you, you see the rest of your life flash before your eyes: a house, a yard, a husband.

It’s all waiting for you at the edge of two words, like a knife to your throat—a knife that no one else is holding but you.

It really is like death.

You take a breath. “I do.”

The bishop nods and smiles the way a grandfather would smile at his grandchild’s wedding (if the grandfather in question was a kind man and not the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company like your actual grandfather was).

“Perfect,” he says. “That’s how we’ll do it tomorrow at the ceremony.”

You gingerly pick your hands from Kiyoomi’s and take a step back. “Great,” you say, a sickly sweet smile on your face. “Thank you for doing this, Father. We appreciate it.”

He bows at you. “It’s my honor, Miss L/N.”

After he’s walked away, you stumble over to one of the seats in the front and slump into it. “Fuck,” you murmur. “This is a shitshow.”

Kiyoomi sits down beside you, albeit with every sense of caution coursing through his veins, and forces himself to look at the altar instead of you. “Tell me about it.”

You turn your head slightly to look at him with furrowed brows. “You like weddings.”

He still doesn’t look at you. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” you say, sitting up straight. “When Akari got married to that French guy, you kept talking about her dress’s ruching or whatever, and then you went on and on about the food at the reception.”

“I was not obsessed,” he says, finally whipping his head around to look at you with an offended look on his face. “Motoya went through a Say Yes to the Dress phase and he made me watch every single episode. I was bound to have something to say about weddings after that.”

You look away from him, a sly smile on your lips. “You like weddings,” you say in a teasing voice.

Kiyoomi sighs. “What happened to being mad at me for ruining your life?” he asks. “Are we just going to pretend that never happened?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I just… I can’t handle thinking about so many things at the same time. Being mad at you isn’t exactly a priority.”

“Then what’s considered a priority?”

You reach down to take your heels off. “This wedding,” you say, throwing a heel at the altar. “My boyfr—my ex boyfriend,” you throw the other heel, grimacing at your words.

You pull five rings from your fingers and stare at them in the palms of your hands.

“My friends,” you throw one ring at your heels.

“My mother,” another ring.

“The whole fucking corporate circus.” Cling!

“My life going up in flames.” Clang!

“And I still don’t know what to do with this b—” you stop, eyes fixed on the last ring. It’s your engagement ring.

“Don’t know what to do with what?” Kiyoomi asks, a quirk in his brow.

You shake your head. “Nothing,” you say, slipping your engagement ring back on your finger. “I… just don’t know what to do.”

The morning of your wedding was as chaotic as you expected it to be. You woke up to the lovely sound of your mother shrieking in your ear to get up because the wedding started in six hours and you were already running late.

“I swear to god, Y/N!” she yells from the other side of the door. “If you stay in that bathroom any longer, I’m knocking this door down!”

Wiping your mouth on a towel, you roll your eyes and open the door. “Tada!” you say lamely, yelping as your mother grabs your arm and drags you to the makeup chair.

“Impossible girl,” you hear your mother mutter, stomping into the room next door.

“Mothers are… difficult,” says your makeup artist, laying out her tools on the table beside you.

“Yeah,” the woman starting to work on your hair chimes in. “Especially on wedding days.”

You chuckle. “I think mine’s more difficult than most.”

The two women start working on getting you ready for what’s supposed to be the most important day of your life. After what feels like hours of primping and preening, your seamstress comes into the room and helps you into your dress. A jeweler then comes in to bedeck you in diamonds and deem you absolutely gorgeous.

It’s a stiff process, almost regimented, and you begin to regret not inviting your friends to come and keep you company. Especially when everyone leaves and you’re all alone in an empty hotel room in nothing but a bridal dress.

You check your phone.

“Quit staring at your phone,” your mother says, pulling it away and turning it off. She places it on a table and turns to look at you. “You’re all crooked.”

You walk towards her and let her fix little bits and pieces of your outfit. It’s the closest to maternal she’s ever been towards you.

“Hey, Mom?” you ask quietly. When she hums in annoyance as she twists your ring to let it rest on your finger perfectly, you take it as a signal to keep talking. “Why do you hate me?”

She pauses. “I don’t hate you,” she says, clearing her throat and stepping away from you, eyes still on the misaligned crease in your dress. “This is just how I’m supposed to be.”

“What do you mean?”

Your mother looks up at you seriously. “This world we live in—with all the money, and the glitz, and the glamor—it doesn’t leave room for mothers to be mothers,” she tells you. “In this world, everyone is your enemy. Even your own children.”

You look down. “Does it always have to be that way?”

“Yes,” she answers in the surest voice. “When you have children of your own, you’ll treat them this way too.”

“Like I hate them?” you ask, looking your mother straight in the eye. A hand unconsciously creeps down to your stomach.

She puts on a smile. “Yes,” she says, her eyes clear. “And, you know what? Maybe you actually will.”

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Y/N learns the reality of her family and how her social standing will poison her future.

𝐚/𝐧 : three chapters left in the act you guys i. am. not. ready. (as always though, this has been a blast<33)

☏ 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦!

[agapaic]

[19 days] whiplash [ch. 365 after-shot]

The shop will be closing soon. He’s seen an attendant wandering around, who will probably ask him to leave in the next five minutes. There’s no one else here. His clothes are vivid against the neon glow of the tanks. The fish cast strange shadows on his shirt, living out a second life on his skin.

They swim in half-circles before sharply changing direction, never touching the glass. He wonders if they know it’s there, as if they can sense some immovable wall that holds them back.

He’s not getting deep about this. He could contemplate, quite extensively, about how their freedom must be bought by some higher power, and they would really only go from one tank to the next, slightly bigger, slightly richer. It’s all fake shit, and he remembers that in some ways he’s got it better than an animal. He can, at least, run away. Maybe he won’t get far. Just to the edges of the city villages where he’ll get a job earning less than before and lose his place in school.

Guan Shan puts a finger on the glass in front of him. There’s a label in the corner, peeling away from the glass. Veiltail goldfish. They have wispy, membrane-like tails. He could put his hand on the other side and see all the way through. Guan Shan watches the only black fish in the tank move placidly through the water.

Beneath the label, a smaller one: Black moor. For a minute he considers tugging the label off and putting it in his pocket, a little secret. He remembers that would be stealing, in some way, and someone in the shop would have to go to the effort of printing and laminating and reapplying the label just for one fish.

Guan Shan turns away.

He wanders for a few more minutes. He’s aware of his reflection in the glass. He worries about how long the attendant will let him stay there, and the thought that they will make him leave makes him feel slightly sick. He likes it here—the quiet, the muted hum of the tanks, the strange lights. They make him feel somewhere else.

His mother is working the night shift and won’t be home until just before he’s meant to go to school the next morning. They’ll have long enough together that he could tell her he got fired from the shop, but not long enough that he could reasonably pretend to have forgotten as he tugs on his uniform and slips out the front door.

She won’t be mad—she never is.

She can’t take on another shift.

Mentally, he has started taking stock. His Xbox is a few years old, but he’ll get something for it. He has a stack of old music magazines from his dad that could catch the eye of a collector. His computer, maybe.

The earrings.

His stomach twists.

Really, it’s not much. It’ll earn them a month, which could be just long enough for him to get another job, but what’s the likelihood of that in a city where most kids are just trying to bulk their CV’s for their college applications. Besides, his grades speak for themselves. He got lucky with the shop, and lightning doesn’t strike twice.

‘Hey, kid. We’re closing soon, so unless you wanna buy something…’

Guan Shan nods. His shoulders round.

For no logical reason, he says: ‘Can I take a goldfish?’

‘Sure. The black moor? Saw you had your eye on that one.’

‘No, one of the others.’

The attendant comes up next to him. ‘Just the one? They don’t like being on their own, you know.’

He presses his jaw tightly. A small sound comes out of him. He looks at the price tag and is somehow shocked and saddened to see the figure so low.

‘Fine,’ he says. ‘The black one, too, I guess.’

He pays, then leaves. It’s late enough that the streets are quieter than he expected. He’s usually home by now, his shift over, reheating leftovers while he works on his homework. He stands there while the shop attendant locks up behind him, holding the plastic bag with two fish in his hand. He feels stupid. Behind his eyes, he can feel a sort of stinging sensation.

He has the unnameable urge to grab one of the passing strangers and tell them how he’s feeling, what has happened, what could happen. On some level he knows that everyone has their own problems, and he’s not the type of person to overstep his bounds. Instead, he watches them pass, and after a few more minutes he goes to the nearest subway station and gets the train home.

/

He had half expected He Tian to find him on the street. He’d imagined it, He Tian catching his arm as he wandered from store to store, deliberating at large windows with thin mannequins and expensive jewellery without price tags. There is a part of him that’s disappointed that it didn’t play out like this, a part of him that is even angrier to find He Tian sitting in the stairwell of his apartment when he eventually does get home.

It’s close to midnight, and the stairwell is clinically quiet. Outside, the stars are dusty and covered in a thin layer of smog that is less noticeable in the day. He Tian looks exhausted. He’s the type of good looking where even the slightest imperfection somehow makes him even more attractive. Guan Shan hates it.

He stands when Guan Shan walks in, suddenly filling the space, and Guan Shan says, ‘Get outta my way.’

‘Where have you been?’

Guan Shan shoulders past him. There’s a moment where he thinks He Tian will grab him around the shoulders, the air around him simmering enough that Guan Shan is convinced it’s a near thing, choking with danger, but he lets him pass. He follows Guan Shan up the staircase, his footsteps silent, his body casting long shadows on the steps where Guan Shan sets his feet.

At the door, Guan Shan pockets the notice that’s taped there, knowing He Tian has already seen it. Less sharply, he picks up the notes in He Tian’s and Jian Yi’s writing and folds them into careful squares.

‘You’re not comin’ in,’ he says.

‘I called you, like, fifty times. Did you block me?’

Guan Shan thinks He Tian sounds angrier than he really has a right to be. He turns and presses his back to the door. He has his keys clenched tightly in a closed fist.

‘Yeah. I didn’t want to talk to you. I thought you would’ve gotten that.’

‘I can get you another job. Something better paid.’

‘You’re so fuckin’ clueless.’

He Tian’s eyes tighten.

‘You’re ruining my life,’ says Guan Shan.

‘That’s—that isn’t true. I’ve helped you. You would’ve been expelled if—’

‘Maybe I would’ve gotten expelled. But I wouldn’t have had She Li on my dick all the time, would I? Wouldn’t need you to get me a job ‘cause you made me lose my last one, would I? You’re just—stickin’ a bandage on shit when you hurt me first.’

‘It’s not always like that. Don’t make it sound like it’s always like that.’

Guan Shan shakes his head. ‘I want you to go. I told you I didn’t want to see you again. Fuck off.’

He Tian says, ‘Let me pay what was on the door.’

‘Fuck off.’

He Tian doesn’t move and Guan Shan squeezes his eyes shut. He’s going to cry again, the frustration bubbling sourly in the back of his throat. He doesn’t trust himself to open the door while He Tian is still here because he knows he’ll probably let him in.

‘Do I really make you feel like a failure?’

Guan Shan rubs at his eyes with his fist. His voice comes hoarse and thick: ‘I am a failure. Bein’ around you just makes it so much more fuckin’ obvious.’

He doesn’t want He Tian’s pity when he says this, or his reassurance. He’s just being honest. Saying it out loud is kind of breathlessly relieving. He couldn’t say something like that to his mother, or any of the teachers at school. He couldn’t say it to Grey, who he’s known for years. He Tian knows more about him than anyone. It’s a terrifying thought.

If they never see each other again, will He Tian tell everyone the things Guan Shan has told him? About the restaurant and his dad, or about She Li and the things Guan Shan has let him do to him? He feels vulnerable and sick thinking about it, completely powerless, as he does a lot of the time when he’s around He Tian.

He oscillates between that feeling of uselessness and the feeling of being so empowered that he thinks it must be what being high or drunk feels like. That latter has him trusting his own convictions, having an unadulterated faith in himself like jumping from a bridge and thinking he might just fly—so long as He Tian is with him. He doesn’t like how it’s one or the other, empowered or powerless, and rarely anything in between. He’s heard adults on TV talking about being codependent, pulled punishingly into each other's orbit, and he wonders if this is the same thing.

In the end he supposes it doesn’t really matter. So what if He Tian tells everyone? Probably, he won’t see the rest of the year out at school. He’ll get a job on a different side of the city and no one will hear from him ever again. The embarrassment will all be internal and will only last a week or two. Then life will move on. He wishes he were older and wiser and better at believing this. He wishes it didn’t feel like the universe might fall out from beneath him.

‘Doesn’t matter what I do, it turns to shit,’ he tells He Tian. ‘No matter how hard I work, I’m never gonna earn enough. I can spend three hours studyin’ for a test and still come last. If it isn’t She Li, then it’ll be someone else. I just—I can’t catch a fuckin’ break, He Tian. But you do somethin’ and you come first every time. Life’s so easy for you.’

He Tian shifts from side to side. ‘Do you think things wouldn’t feel so hard if you stopped focussing on what you think my life is like?’

‘You’re pissin’ me off.’

‘I don’t know how I’m meant to help you. You won’t let me give you money. It’s like pulling teeth from you just trying to know what’s going on with you. What are you so fucking afraid of?’

‘I never asked for your help.’

‘You shouldn’t have to—that’s why we’re friends.’

‘I never said I wanted to be your friend.’

He Tian frowns, his look very serious. He isn’t teasing tonight. Neither is Guan Shan. There is the sense that their interactions are always anything but teasing, really, some dark undercurrent that runs between the two of them like dark veins.

He Tian says, ‘Are those fish?’

For a moment Guan Shan thinks he’s joking, deflecting wildly to distract from the seriousness of what Guan Shan has just said. Then he feels the crinkle of a plastic bag in his hand and, remembering how he’d just spent the last few hours, nearly drops the two goldfish onto the floor.

‘Yeah,’ he says.

‘You don’t have a tank.’

‘Yeah, no. I don’t know why I bought them.’

He Tian hesitates. There is a curious, predictable gleam in his eyes. ‘Red and black?’

‘It’s all they had left at the store.’

He Tian is looking intently at the bag. ‘Do you remember when we went to the aquarium? And you said I wasn’t someone you could forget?’

‘I just meant that—’

‘I know what you meant. But I always pretend like you meant it the other way.’

Guan Shan thinks, Don’t you think things would be easier if you stopped focusing on what you want me to mean and what I actually mean?

Instead of saying anything, he looks down at his sneakers. They’re scuffed and starting to rip at the seams. The thought of having to buy new ones makes him panic and the thought of buying a pair of second-hand ones online makes him panic even more. There’s no shame in it, but the thought of wearing someone else’s clothes makes him feel strange, especially when he knows He Tian could buy fifty pairs without blinking.

Guan Shan considers that thought and replays what He Tian has just said about focusing on his life too much more than his own. Maybe part of that is true.

Before He Tian, did he always feel things so intensely? Did the bad always feel so fucking awful? He knows that things were mechanical, and he was mean and didn’t think much about other people in particularly nice ways. He knows he didn’t laugh much then, or have dinners and sleepovers with friends. He knows everything hurt on a distant, muted level that was easy to ignore. Not much time has passed since then, and he reasons that nothing about him has probably changed, just everything else around him.

‘I can’t understand why you won’t let me help you,’ says He Tian, when the silence has stretched too long.

‘Because I’ll get used to it.’

He Tian frowns, not understanding.

‘One day, you’re not gonna be around. And I’ll be fucked.’

‘I’ll always be there for you.’

‘You don’t know that. People say that a lot and then they disappear or get taken away, even if they didn’t want to.’

It’s obvious they’re talking about his dad, but it feels safer to talk about things in vague, subjective conversation. Maybe things would be easier if they talked openly about things and didn’t use metaphors and hypotheticals. As it is, Guan Shan doesn’t feel ready to try the alternative. He is conscious of the fact that this feels like a conversation. They are passing words back and forth that hold meaning and neither of them has touched the other yet. It feels new and fragile as an oil painting, still wet, and so he doesn’t let himself think about this for long.

‘I think you’re getting this wrong,’ says He Tian. ‘I’m not asking you to rely on me. Obviously, I’d kind of like that. I like the thought of you needing me, and I know that says something about me. But—I’m just asking you to let me help you. Just here and there, no strings.’

Guan Shan rubs his forehead with the back of his knuckles. His keys are starting to pinch his skin and he can feel a headache starting to surface.

‘I’m tired,’ he says. ‘I actually do want you to go.’

He Tian’s jaw clenches and he breathes out heavily through his nose. He’s probably thinking he’s wasted his time.

‘Okay,’ he says then. ‘But we’re not done.’

A new wave of exhaustion comes over Guan Shan, crippling and final. He wants to get into bed with his skin against cold sheets and sleep for twelve hours without waking once.

‘You’re not the only one that ever gets to decide that,’ he tells He Tian, a little sharply. ‘You’ve gotta learn to let people go.’

‘But what if I know I can help them?’ says He Tian. ‘If I don’t, I’ve just—failed.’

They look at each other.

A minute stretches into an eternity that could be seconds or hours, and everything has gone backwards. Everything is the same.

Guan Shan can’t put his finger on what has just happened, but he feels like laughing. Their fears are twinned, self-perpetuating, some kind of ouroboros chasing its tail. Who will get caught first?

They both seem to take in a breath at the same time, and He Tian takes a step back.

‘Goodnight,’ he says.

Guan Shan nods. He waits for He Tian’s retreating back to disappear a few flights down before opening the door to his apartment, and shuts it swiftly behind him.

/

There’s a knock at the door while he’s brushing his teeth. The fish are swimming placidly in their bag on the edge of the bathroom sink. It’s past one, and he keeps all the lights off because his eyes are feeling sore. He’s adjusted to the dim glow that comes from street lamps seeping through the curtains, the blink of the timer on the electric stove, his Xbox gleaming in his bedroom. His mother shouldn’t be home yet and she has her own set of keys.

With a sinking heart, Guan Shan pictures his landlord demanding payment.

Worse, he pictures He Tian. Before He Tian left, they’d resolved nothing. It feels like being back to square one, chasing each other around a chess board. It fills him with a vast emptiness that makes him feel like he’s existing outside of himself, waiting for someone else to take over.

He pads silently towards the front door, his toothbrush jammed into his cheek, and peers through the viewer. There’s toothpaste dripping down his chin. In the hall, there’s no one there. He’s half-convinced he imagined it. He counts to ten before he opens the door, steps out—and his foot connects with something hard. There is a cardboard box sitting on the welcome mat.

Guan Shan peers around. The light in the stairwell is artificially bright. He kneels down and opens the tabs on the box, which hasn’t been taped. He swallows.

For the fish, says the note on the second box, nestled inside the first. Careful, it’s fragile.

Guan Shan rubs the heel of a palm into his right eye. He sighs. Then he reaches out, braces himself, and picks up the tank. He carries it into his apartment, and the door locks behind him.

/

thank you for reading! if you’d like to support me on my ko-fi/request a short drabble, you can do so here: https://ko-fi.com/agapaic 💞

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Soft Pretzel

A request by @ittoehurt in which the reader has been feeling sick lately and finds out they are pregnant with Peter’s kid. But she isn't sure if he would even want to have a kid with her. I put my own little twist on it, I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: None really, mostly pure fluff, a little angst

Word count: 1780

You were currently huddled over a toilet throwing your soft pretzel up. Jubilee was with you holding your hair back. “I’m so sorry Jubilee.” You choked out in between your sickness. You laid your head against the toilet bowl, much to her protests. 

“No honey it’s okay.” She reassured you by moving your head from the public toilet to lay on her shoulder. You wrapped your arms around your stomach as if willing it to keep down your food. 

“You can leave me here, go have fun with Kurt and the gang.” You smiled weakly and she just softly shook her head at you.  You guys were supposed to be having a fun day at the carnival,  when you suddenly felt sick and rushed off to the bathroom. Peter had wanted to go with you but Jubilee insisted that he couldn't just go into a woman’ bathroom like that. 

“I am not leaving you here. You know that.” She brushed your hair away from your face. “I told you not to eat that carnival food, it always makes me sick.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought of even eating anything at the pop up carnival. Especially when she  saw the buckets of grease that everything was marinating in. Peter had eaten something from every stand as you guys had walked around together and he was in no mindset to stop soon. But for once he felt his appetite disappear as he waited for you outside of the bathroom. His foot anxiously tapping against the pavement. 

Truth be told you knew it wasn’t the pretzel was what had made you so sick. You had woken up on many occasions recently hurling into a toilet, you were always careful to never wake Peter up when you slipped out of bed to spill your guts. It had been a while since your last period as well. Your suspicions were confirmed when you took a pregnancy test a couple days ago. You had driven to the store to buy one after your morning classes. Peter wasn't home in your shared apartment when you took it, and when you saw those two lines appear you knew you were screwed. You had sat in the bathroom for god knows how long crying a mix of tears.

You and Peter had been together for a while now. You had met him in high school in your science class, he was your lab partner. He cracked some dumb chemistry joke and you fell in love with him right then and there. You guys started dating and at homecoming he admitted that he was a mutant, he had been so nervous on how you would react. He loved you so much and he hated the idea of ruining it because he was different. But you could care less, you told him that it didn't change the way you felt about him and when you said you thought his superspeed was really cool he was whipped. You guys had been together a couple years now, you had even taken the next step and moved in together, not wanting to spend the rest of your days making out in his mom’s basement. He had become a member of the x-men and you took classes at the local university. Everything seemed so perfect. And now there was a chance of ruining it all. You and Peter were in your early 20’s you two hadn’t even talked about having children, heck you hadn't even thought about it yourself. You didn't even know if he would want a kid with you, he was so young and this was both of yours first relationship. You felt as if you were going to tie him down to something he never even wanted. 

You bit your lip debating on telling Jubilee what had been bugging you for the past few weeks. She saw your brow furrowed and turned to face you. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick again.” She got up to leave. “I’ll go get you some water.” You grabbed her hand before she could leave. 

“The pretzel isn't what made me sick.” You admitted quietly, curling into yourself even more. She silently urged you to go on, sitting back down and taking your hands in hers. 

“I’m pregnant,” You admitted, staring at your lap, not wanting to meet her eyes, in fear that you would see disappointment in them. 

The bathroom was eerily quiet until Jubilee let out a happy squeal and tackled you in a hug. You nearly fell over onto the floor. 

“Omg (y/n)!!! You and Peter are going to have a kid together!! They’re going to be so cute! Especially if they look like you, I don’t know how they’ll look if they get Peter’s genes.” She rambled happily. You let out a little laugh at her excitement, but your heart was still heavy. 

She calmed herself down and her tone turned serious. “Have you told Peter yet?’

You fiddled with your hands. “No I haven’t.”

“How come?’ It wasn’t a judgmental question that Jubilee asked and you could sense the question was more for your benefit than for his. 

“I just don't know he would even want a kid with me. We’re both so young and I don’t want to trap him into a relationship he never wanted.” You admitted, tears threatening to form.

“Oh Honey.” Jubilee pulled you into a tight hug. “Peter loves you so much, I just know he would want a kid with you. It might be a shock but he’s talked about spending his life with you.”

“Really?” 

“Yes really, that boy is so whipped for you it’s so funny.” She joked as she pulled away. She wiped your tears away gently and helped you off the floor. “You should tell him though, it's only fair.” You nodded your head in agreement and you excited the stall together. 

“Can you give me a minute to fix myself? I look like a mess.” You laughed. 

“Sure.” Jubilee left you alone to tidy yourself in the mirror. The minute she stepped out of the bathroom Peter bombarded her with questions.

“How is she? Is she okay? Does she wanna go home?” 

“Chill out she’s fine.” Jubilee replied, trying her best to hide her smile. She turned to Kurt and the rest of the gang. “Let’s go get a spot to watch the fireworks, (y/n) and Peter will catch up later.” 

They left Peter to his thoughts and he began to wonder why she wanted to leave you two all alone. The longer he sat there the more his thoughts drifted to negative ones. You came out a couple minutes later and Peter was immediately by your side. “Hey I missed you, are you okay?” You smiled at him nervously and took his hand in yours. “We need to talk.” Peter felt his heart stop at those words, but squeezed your hand in response. 

You led him over to an empty bench that was at some distance from the rest of the crowd. “Peter I-”

Before you could even continue Peter interrupted you. “Are you breaking up with me?” He asked in a small voice. 

“What no.” You cupped his face with both your hands. “No, nothing like that I could never break up with you. I love you too much.” You kissed him softly and he returned it. You pulled away running your thumb absentmindedly across his cheek. He moved his hand to cup yours. 

“What is it then?” You felt your heart pounding in your chest, drowning out all the noise around you. 

You wet your lips before meeting his gaze. “I’m pregnant Peter.” You were met with silence and immediately you took it as a rejection and started to ramble. “It’s yours but don't worry I’m not asking for anything and if you don’t want to have the kid I can raise them on my own. I can go back with my parents and I-”

“You're pregnant?” Peter repeated softly a smile starting to form on his lips. “I’m going to be a dad.” You nodded your head silently. “I’m going to be a dad!” He screamed lunging towards you and picking you up. He spun you around in circles, his head buried in the crook of your neck. 

“Peter!” You squealed. He gently set you back down and held your face in his hands. 

“You’re not mad?”

“Mad? (y/n) I couldn't be happier!” Your face broke out in a smile. “I love you so much, we’re going to be amazing parents!” He took you back in his arms, holding you tight and pressing kisses to the top of your head. You felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of your shoulder. “We have to tell the gang!”

Peter wanted to get there as fast as possible but settled for walking when he realized that the sudden speed might upset your stomach. “Peter I’m not that delicate.” You protested. 

“Not taking any chances babe! You’re carrying very precious cargo!” He rubbed your stomach slightly as if there was a bump there already. You let out a light laugh and he pulled you even closer. When you met up with the rest of the gang the fireworks had already started. Peter scared everybody by shouting at the top of his lunges that he was going to be a dad. He slapped Scott on the back with a hearty laugh nearly knocking his sunglasses off.

 “Watch it, Maximoff.” Jean stifled a laugh next to him. “Good luck spending the rest of your life with that idiot.”

You laughed and and Peter whined. “Babeeee.” 

Jubilee pulled you into a side hug, watching as Peter told random strangers that he was going to be a Dad, they just awkwardly congratulated him and he smiled proudly. “I see he took the news well.” 

“What!” Peter exclaimed as he sped back to your side. “You told Jubilee before me!” He proclaimed with mock hurt. You just rolled our eyes and nudged him playfully. 

“Yeah cause she likes me better!” Jubilee joked pulling you closer to her. 

Peter yanked you back to his side. “Not in a million years Lee.” He kissed the top of your head. You guys settled onto the grass with the rest of the group, you leaned back into Peter’s chest. He rested his head in the cook of your neck inhaling your scent. “Thank you.” He whispered.

You closed your eyes at his soft touch. “For what?”

You felt him smile and hug you closer, hands resting gently on your stomach. “For giving me everything I could have ever wanted.”