#but I don’t understand why she would cover it up with that ugly top and put that pouch holder thing over the pants
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I’m disappointed. I expected more
#choices tch#choices the cursed heart#choices#choices stories you play#playchoices#she just looks like any other fae#like you’d think her design would match her name 😐#the little pasty bra she has on is cute though#but I don’t understand why she would cover it up with that ugly top and put that pouch holder thing over the pants#choices app#pixelberry studios#pixelberry
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The Replacement - Part Twenty-eight
Negan Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Part 27
Warning: swearing, mention of pregnancy
You were still a nervous wreck after that nightmare, and nothing seemed to calm your thoughts that Negan was in grievous harm. To top it all off; a huge-ass lightning storm decided to rear its ugly head up.
A few of you, along with the kids were hauled up in Aaron’s house to wait out the storm. The windows and doors were threatening to blowout at the rate they had been rattling, causing everyone to scramble to barricade them.
“Hey...” you crouch down in front of Judith and the other kids, that were seated against the wall; all clearly frightened.
“It’s ok. The storm will blow over soon enough.”
“You sure about that Aunt Y/N?” Judith softly murmurs.
“Promise” you wink at her, flashing a faint smirk.
“Besides, I’m here, along with the other adults to make sure you guys are safe. Now, I want you guys to stick together, and don’t go wondering off where we can’t see ya.”
“Ok...” they all nod in agreement.
“What’s with that door?!” you hear Rosita call out from behind.
“It’s rotting out” Magna calls out as she checks it.
“The storm kicks up, it’ll shake apart.”
The younger children could be heard crying in the next room, Nabila rushes to go check on them and you follow to help.
You weren’t even gone for two seconds when the sound of glass shattering was heard. Rushing back; you were greeted by the sight of a tree branch lodged through a now broken window, and then the door slammed open.
Rosita and you rushed to shut it back close, while the others attempted to cover the broken window.
And just as it seemed things couldn’t get any worse; Judith notices that the windmill was on fire.
“That’s even worse...” you hear Rosita comment as she looked out the window.
“What was that?” you hear Judith enquire as the sound of metal being dragged was heard.
“Piece of the wall” Rosita answers, causing you to rush to the window and look as well.
“Shit” you mutter in panic.
Everyone was gathered in the kitchen as Aaron went over what was happening and how best to handle it.
“The storm blew down one of the panels of the wall by the gardens” Aaron informs everyone.
“Hopefully it’s just the one. What's worse, is the fire in the windmill; it’s drawing in Walkers in the surrounding areas.”
“We have to get that panel back up, and the fire out” Carol comments.
“We need three teams” Aaron begins to strategize.
“I’ll take one, to fight the fire.”
“And I'll take a crew to repair the wall” Carol states.
“We’re gonna need another team, to protect everyone here” Aaron comments.
“I can handle that” Rosita offers.
“Ok, good” Aaron nods in agreement.
“So, volunteers?”
Connie offers to go with the outside group, but Magna argues with her over it.
“If she’s up for it, we could use her help” Aaron states.
It was then decided; that Connie and Kelly would go with Carol to repair the wall, Magne agreed to go with Aaron. With only two on their team, an injured Virgil offers to go with them, but Rosita convinces him to stay and help her instead.
Knowing that there was still one person short, you offer to go.
“No” Rosita shakes her head at you.
“Why not?” Aaron frowns at her in confusion.
“She’s one of the best, we could use her.”
“The fire...” Rosita protests, scowling at you in disapproval.
“She might blackout because of it. Besides, she’s of better use here, to help keep everyone safe.”
“You’re right, I totally forgot about that” Aaron nods in understanding, and everyone gets ready to get busy.
You pull Rosita aside then.
“Why did you stop me from going?”
“You’re pregnant Y/N” Rosita reminds you.
“That fire isn’t good for you or the baby.”
“You’re right...” you sigh out in frustration.
“I just wanted to help.”
“You’re helping me here” Rosita offers with a faint smile, and you nod with one of your own.
Rosita and Lydia were busy boarding up the broken window while you tried to keep the kids calm, when more planks were needed, you went with the others to get it.
You were that long gone, when suddenly the sound of a child screaming was heard. Everyone ran back to find that Walkers had tried to enter through the window, luckily Judith and Virgil had managed to kill them.
“They all over out there” Lydia remarks as they continued boarding up the window.
“Radio Carol and tell her that there might be another breech” Rosita instructs Dianne.
Rosita orders Judith to blow out the candles so that it wouldn’t attract Walkers to the house, as everyone stood on guard for anymore that might approach.
The door begins rattling again by the force of the wind and Walkers trying to get in, Rosita and Lydia rush to stop it from giving in, Dianne and you then ran to join in.
“The hinges are coming apart” Lydia comments.
“And the frame” Dianne states.
Rosita checks through the blinds then.
“Jesus...” she mutters out, running to the table and grabbing her weapons.
“What are you doing?” Lydia asks her.
“I’m buying as time” Rosita remarks coming back with her weapons.
“What can I do?” Lydia asks, as you look at Rosita in disbelief.
“Close the door behind me, keep it closed” Rosita informs you.
“Rosita” you scowl at her.
“Let me go with you.
“I need you inside with them” Rosita argues.
“They can handle it!” you argue back.
“Y/N! Just do as I say” Rosita commands you.
“Alright, on my count... one... two... three!”
The three of you move aside and as the door opens Rosita rushes at the first Walker; pushing it back so that she could exit out the door.
Judith, Gracie and you rush to look out the window. Rosita manages to easily take out those that were on the porch, rushing down the steps to stop any of them coming closer to the door.
“I can’t stand here and watch” you yell out, grabbing your knives.
“Lydia, open the door!”
You run out, dispatching of any Walkers that were going for Rosita’s back.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Rosita looks over her shoulder in disbelief.
“Helping!” you yell back at her.
Rosita shakes her head at you, turning back to take out more Walkers.
After the two of you dispatched of all the Walkers, you both were exhausted; dragging yourself back up the porch.
Rosita knocks on the door for them to let you back in, it opens, and you drag you soaked, exhausted selves through it.
Rosita turns to the kids, exhaling heavily.
“Stay away from the windows...”
Judith stares at you both wide-eyed, nodding silently in response.
You don’t say anything, breathing heavily as blackspots begin dancing in your vision.
“What were you thinking?!” Rosita grabs your arm to look at her.
“I-I...” you mumble, shaking your head to clear your vision as it began blurring.
“Y/N...?” Rosita frowns when noticing the weird look on your face.
“I-I... wanted to...” you managed to mumble out, suddenly your arms go lame; causing your knives to drop to the floor.
“Somethings not right...” Lydia utters out in concern, taking a step closer.
“She’s gonna blackout!” Rosita states grabbing tighter onto you as your knees suddenly give out.
You look Rosita in the eyes then.
“Negan-can’t-know-” you slur out and everything goes black then.
Part 29
tag list: @rockey258 @ultrasweetnephilim @twd-fanfics @starry-night-20 @dellsdeath @vaaalexandra @thatgirljayy @aleemendoza2425-blog @conrzd @tonysterco @igotmajordaddyissues
#twd negan#twdlovestory#twdfanfic#negan x reader#negan x you#The Walking Dead#negan#Jeffrey Dean Morgan#JDM
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Omg cake gate is hilarious. Casual fan who lurks the fandom when bored here, so full disclosure that I’m not as convinced they’re PR (I think they’re a weird as hell match though). That said I have THOUGHTS.
I’m a good friend, so I would never in a million years get a cake like that for someone. A million conflicting sports teams is already insane in of itself (I’m not at all convinced someone who likes all of those teams could be a real person). But what friend would be like, “oh I know! Let’s do pots and pans, sports, and other deeply personal motifs like buying a house, their girlfriend’s name and dog.” Like real talk, I’d be freaked out if a friend got me a cake of my interests (real or not) married with my home life (real or not). It’s so weirdly not a friend’s place to make a cake about their home and personal life.
But also being a good friend, I would never give a friend something so fucking ugly. An airplane runway taking up an entire side of the A and sports themes littering the second side? 😂😂😂 Tell me you don’t understand symmetry without telling me you don’t understand symmetry.
It’s like AI generated a cake under the suggestion of “Austin butler” and “boy themed birthday cake.” I low key think it was Kaia (who else in the blue fuck would do this?!) but even that option doesn’t make sense bc as much as I don’t get why people like her…she has taste. And high end taste at that. She’s young but it looks like a 6 year old (or AI) customized it, not a woman who can at least legally drink and has graced the covers of Vogue.
Again, I’m a casual fan so IDGAF about who really made the cake or what their relationship dynamic is. But I guess I’m officially taking your guys side bc wow anyone who thinks this eyesore is romantic needs a reality check…and glasses. But also, didn’t Austin get in some heat bc he called Vanessa a friend when recounting a story about her when they were together? “Friend” is Hollywood speak for “we’re not gonna name who to respect their privacy” so it’s just easier to say friend. Saying a friend ordered the cake proves nothing in either direction.
Anyway, whoever did order this cake…THANK YOU. You made Saturday morning hilarious with your atrocious taste in cake motifs and decorating. This fandom getting into fights about it is the hilarious cherry, no scratch that, frosting on top!
#cakegate lol. i truly had such a good laugh about it this morning. like...lord.
GIRL THAT CAKE WAS FUGLY, YOU ARE SO RIGHT.
hahahaha when you get people who say the cake looks like it was crafted by a child, Artificial Intelligence, or a 21 year old self absorbed nepo baby then you know you done goofed. i really don't know what else to say about it. it's fucking hilarious to me
his entire birthday party was a PR shitshow and it's all thanks to her. when you love somebody, you don't do embarrassing shit like this. you unplug. you leave the paps out of it. it's just really bad.
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Chapter 1: Dream of Fallen Stars
Narrated by Leonid.
Narrator: Where am I?
Narrator: The forest soil is covered with moss. Laughter comes from nearby. Rows of houses surround the church in the center of town.
Narrator: The cross at the top of the church’s steeple is bathed in sunlight. It looks solemn and holy.
Narrator: There is a lush forest behind me and an endless ocean in front of me. The salty sea breeze carries the scent of mud and leaves.
Narrator: After some time passes, a memory answered my question.
Narrator: I am in a small Pigeon town near the sea. I have lived here for 22 years.
Narrator: But I shouldn’t be here now. Everything seems strange because I haven’t seen the sun or stood on solid ground in so long.
Narrator: I should be alone. I shouldn’t be able to hear other people’s voices.
Narrator: I lower my head as I hold newly bought paper and ink. I had just made my purchase for the month, and I was headed home.
Fisherman Couple: Mr. Leonid always has free time. Surely there’s no need to worry about how he makes a living.
Fisherman Couple: We wake up and fish every day, and we’re doing it just to feed our boys!
Narrator: I happened to cross paths with a couple who had just gotten off their fishing boat. They greeted me with cheerful smiles.
Narrator: I didn’t respond. I just focused on my walk from the forest to the beach.
Narrator: I’d never noticed what my neighbors were like. Maybe they talked to me, but I don’t remember unnecessary things like that.
Young Man: I wish I could be half as talented as Mr. Leonid.
Narrator: Recently, a man has often sat in the shade under the same tree on the side of the road and talked to himself about his troubles.
Young Man: I wonder how she’ll respond if I confess my love for her...
Narrator: I’m not interested in things like that. I kept walking across the seashore toward the banyan tree near the cliff.
Narrator: I built a tree-house on that tree all by myself. It was as far from the village as possible, and no one would bother me there.
Narrator: Occasionally, curious children would stop by, such as this boy who was waving a branch in front of my door like a sword.
Boy: Hey, mister! Why do you live out here by yourself?
Boy: Are you a designer? When I grow up, I want to be a hero that fights evil! Will you design my armor for me?
Narrator: I walked past him with a sigh and then closed the door behind me.
Choose either “You are too cold” or “Why are you sighing?”
If “cold,” ...
You: You’re anti-social.
Leonid: They could never understand my pursuit of truth, just as I could never understand their silly emotions.
If “sighing,” ...
You: Why are you sighing?
Leonid: Life goes on around me. Some things stay the same and some change. But it’s all just white noise. It has nothing to do with me.
--
Narrator: I’m entranced by the stars in my dreams. They’re a grand concerto where truth and law meet, more beautiful than the ocean waves outside my window.
Narrator: Paper was spread out on the workbench. The stars turned into my inspiration. They portrayed something brand new to this world.
Narrator: That is my unfinished design. It’s a sacred, pure white angel. Simple and beautiful as truth itself.
Narrator: I believed that once I figure out the stars’ secrets, she will spread her wings and smile at me.
Narrator: Tonight I wandered above the sea of stars.
Narrator: My anticipation lifted the fog in my brain, but my blood froze when I saw what was happening in front of me.
Narrator: The sky was in chaos.
Narrator: The stars were destroyed in a stream of falling flame, and the otherwise calm night was dyed in a dark red.
Narrator: The dazzling stars dimmed like dying flowers whose beauty has faded.
Narrator: Has the starlight I loved always been so ugly?
Leonid: No, that can’t be...
Narrator: I fought to resist the disappointment, but gravity regained control over me. I fell from the heights of truth in an abyssal sea. I was broken.
Narrator: The pain of it all opened my eyes.
Narrator: When I woke up, I was lying on the stargazing platform. The sky was full of stars, still shining and watching me quietly.
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
#leonid#shining nikki#ur designer#angel and demon#anniversary event#chapter 1#transcript#dream of fallen stars#miraland#pigeon kingdom#memories#banyan tree#stars#astrology#search for truth#depression
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eren yEAgahh 🦅 vs a lesbian 👺
Eren had no the slightest clue what the fuck he was looking at. As he stood there in his cell wondering what the fresh flying fuck was going on.
A teenage girl was standing on the bed looking at the small black box looking thing in her hands. How dare she stand on my bed, I sleep there- well not really, I really just lay there a brood. SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK. Like Jean.
She had brown skin covered in freckles and what looked like war paint on her cheeks (Eren suspects she is a soldier, probably a recruit, she looked pretty young). Her cherry red curls were poofy and all over the place. She had on a shirt with a picture of a train with a disgusted face and some yellow words (He can’t read but, it says “Thomas had never seen such bullshit before”) She had a very large yellow sweater and some short pants (They’re just normal denim shorts, he can’t handle this reality). See Figure 1
The beautiful genocidal teen was aware that women had legs. And that they could wear pants. Because they have legs. He knew this because he had seen it for himself. But why in the name of god would they let anyone see them.
Also she was standing on his bed.
Did he give a fuck that there was some random teenage girl standing on his bed where he did his late night brooding?
Yes.
He did in fact.
Eren gave several fucks in fact.
Because he could see the mud on her ridiculously bright yellow shoes.
And that mud was now on his bed.
Now Eren is mad.
It’s a miracle really.
He hasn’t felt emotion since that one time at the beach. 👉🏽 🌊.👩🏽🦲.
“Oi.”
The girl looked at him very suddenly with her dark blue eyes.
“Get off my bed you freak.”
“¿Estás hablando conmigo? Será mejor que no me hables.” She yelled at him. (Are you talking to me? You better not be talking to me!)
“What? I don’t speak weirdo.” Eren yelled back.
“¿RERO? ¡Cómo te atreves! ¡Me follaré a tu madre!” She stuck out her tongue childishly. (WEIRDO? How DARE you! I’ll fuck your mom!)
Now Eren was mad. -er.
He was madder.
…
The angry German boy is now more angry.
And this red headed child was the source.
“Don’t you raise your voice at me! This is my cell and that is my bed you're standing on with your weird ugly feet!” It was like talking to a toddler, really.
She jumped off the bed to square up before realizing he was much taller than her. Fucking tall people. 🙄 🤜🏼 💥 🧍♂️. She stood back on the bed, and stood over him, “Entiendo que eres europeo, ¡pero necesito que hables español por mí! ¿Entiendes? E-S-P-A-Ñ-O-L.” (I get that you’re European but I need you to speak Spanish for me! Understand? S-P-A-N-I-S-H.)
“Stop yelling at me goddamnit!” He approached her, “And get off my bed for fucks sake!”
The girl took a deep breath and yelled, “MASACRE TODOS LOS HOMBRES!”, and leaped onto him, screeching at the top of her lungs. (SLAUGHTER ALL MEN!)
And this dear reader is where I disclose to you the important things about this mysterious Latina girl. Autumn Cortez was not a soldier as Eren YEAgahh 🕊 suspected. She was a teenage lesbian with anger issues and ADHD, and she hadn’t taken any medication prior to spontaneously appearing before the genocidal freak with anger issues. The war paint on her face is indeed the lesbian flag.
“OW, WHAT THE HELL!” Eren yelled out as she scratched at him with her purple nails and knees him in the balls. RIP them kids, aye. 🧒🏽🪦 🕊
While Eren laid in his side crying for the first time in 4 years because his flesh banana was out of commission, the 5’6” lesbian was punching him and yelling things like, “¡PARA HITOKA!” (Self explanatory) and, “¡TU NOVIA SE PARECE A MI MADRE!” (YOUR GIRLFRIEND LOOKS LIKE MY MOM)
Hanji and Levi, who had heard all the noise, came down to the dungeon to find Eren on the floor crying real tears 🤒💦, with a angry lesbian standing on him like he was a stage for her.
K.O.
RIP 🪦
here lies
Eren YEAgaah 🦅🤬
a stupid fucking bitch
-
Figure 1
726 words
translation from google translate
©-whoremama
#attack on titan#honey writes#-whoremama#aot#aot eren#snk eren#shingeki no kyoujin eren#hange#snk#eren jäger#levi ackerman#levi attack on titan#hange zöe#snk hange#shingeki no kyojin#eren#original character#dont take this seriously#it was really just a joke to send to my friends#blame my best friend for encouraging me#smh my head that bitch#love her tho#eren slander
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Enlightening women
JN 10/27/22
Here’s to enlightening women. Here’s a question for you ladies. Would you rather be treated like a princess? Or would you rather that you man treat you as an equal?
While you’re thinking of how you can get both, let me tell you, you can’t be both. Either he treats you like a princess, opening doors for you, bringing you food and loving you tenderly, or he will treat you like his bros who are equal to him.
If you’re having a hard time with this question, it’s because you think if you’re not equal to him that you are lower than him. First of all, let me explain why you think that and then I’ll show you reality.
If you’re not equal, you think you’re lower because of this. First, when you go outside and see a couple, you most likely look at the woman and compare yourself. And then from your observation, you decide if you are prettier, better, etc. than her, and you put her below you or above you. This is biological because if you’re the queen above all the other women, you get the man. That’s how life works. So woman comparison goes up and down, either she’s ranked higher or lower.
Here’s the psychology. Whoever you are or whatever you do, people assume others to be just like them. A thief will have a hard time trusting anyone believing everyone wants to steal from them. And if you rank people, boss and servant, you’ll assume others do the same.
Women rank men from rich and attractive to ugly and broke and would only date the top 3% and talk to the top 7% if anything. Just a reminder that this is not talking about all women, but how things shake out in general. You don’t want to be the “servant” because you won’t want to date someone with such a rank either. This is an analysis from societal norms, now let’s discuss scripture.
If you’re not equal, you think you’re lower because of this. Second, the Bible talks about men ruling over women (Gen 3:16) and that women have to be submissive (Ephesians 5:22), obeying everything that a man says and that she can’t speak back (1 Cor 14:34) or try to teach a man (1 Timothy 2:12) and has to cover her head (1 Cor 11:6) to show respect and this run-on sentence could go on. There are a few misunderstandings, misinterpretations, and a number of faulty assumptions wrapped up in this belief. Let’s look at the following key words: control, submit, obey.
Control. First of all I had trouble finding references saying that a husband could control his wife. In fact, Genesis 3:16 has some interesting translations.
NIV: “Your desire … for your husband, and he will rule over you”
ESV: “Your desire … contrary to husband, but he shall rule …”
KJV: “Your desire … to thy husband, and he shall rule …”
NLT: “You will desire to CONTROL your husband, but he will …”
I think the word we’re looking for here is not “control” but “rule” as in having “dominion” as a king (Gen 1:28). We now have a skewed understanding of what this means because over the course of Earth’s history, we have only seen corrupt rulers who abused their power for selfish gain. As God as the ultimate Ruler, we are to be rulers after His image. We are to be “gods” on earth who would rather not see their “creations” suffer but die for them instead.
A ruler was supposed to protect and provide for his own. He was supposed to fight and die for his country, which incidentally is a feminine entity. If a country for a king was a wife to her husband, then a man who rules his household should provide and protect, fight and die for his wife to keep her peace so she can protect and raise the citizens of their home, their kids.
We do see the word “submit” (Eph. 5:22), but that’s only talking to married women to their husbands, not all women to all men. Women in our society today do not like this word because it implies total obedience to the husband without room for discussion.
This idea by itself is an amazing thing, let me explain. Total obedience, to me, implies a level of trust and trustworthiness. Ladies, if you found a man who you feel safe and secure with, and is totally obedient to without arguing, I can tell you who you are and the name of that man. First you are a very godly woman, and the name of that man is Jesus. Apart from him, there is no man you should be totally obedient to, no matter how holy he may seem.
Now to the question why many do not like the word, it’s because to submit your life to someone calls for vulnerability. If you submit your life to someone, they can do whatever they will. And especially for some women who have had bad experiences with men in the past, this will be triggering.
You trusted and they broke your trust and hurt you, so now you say “never again” and close up your heart to protect yourself saying “I’m a strong and independent woman”. This response is not “what’s right”, but rather a “fight/flight response”. I am not saying it’s wrong, but that it is normal to feel that way. It is how many deal with trauma, and that is a different subject altogether.
All these talks about ruling, controlling, submission, obedience, they are not about who is greater or lesser, but more about providing, protecting and caring for the love we have built and the home we have shared. Don’t let society blind you. Look at the world for what it is, hurting men and women wanting real life, real love, but has been so scared by life and now out of fear acts in self defense, propagating the cycle of pain, abuse, and misunderstanding.
It’s normal to be afraid, it’s normal to be confused. There was no manual for this adulting gig and those who could have taught you didn’t have it any easier. Your parents are so strong that they didn’t know what to do but still they won’t give up. They hung on and kept pushing, hoping that someday, one of their kids would figure it out and stop the pain from progressing further.
Imagine how hard it must be, for them to be in pain, struggling and crying themselves to sleep many nights. And then they see their kids, you, going through the same thing and they don’t know what else to do but to come hug you and cry with you hoping that someday someone might find the cure. Remember this quote, “Hurting people hurt people”. If someone’s hurting you, they may be hurting, and if you’re hurting someone, maybe you need some love.
Maybe the problem with our world today is not about controlling, submitting, or obedience, but that we are all hurting and looking for love, safety, and acceptance in our own way.
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Hiii can you do a poly marauders x fem reader where girls are being mean to her like calling her ugly and saying she dosnt deserve them so she’s breaks up but they find out what’s been happening and they get back together . (I couldn’t see if your requests are closed) ❤️
Greedy [Poly Marauders]
A/N: Thank you so much for your request! You’re just fueling my addiction with writing poly Marauders fics… and I love it!!
Pairings: Poly! Marauders x Fem!reader
Words: 2.9k
Warnings: Fluff, polyamorous relationship, breakup, mentions of not eating, crying, reader being sad, mean girls. Lmk if I missed anything.
“Honestly you’re just being greedy!”
“They don’t even really like you; you were just the easiest.”
“You’re not even pretty enough for one of them, what makes you think you could have all three?”
“It’s only a matter of time before they get bored of you and trade you in for someone better and more deserving of their love.”
The words swarmed around your brain, a thick fog settling before your eyes as tears streamed down your face making everything blurry and wet. Your feet were clumsily transporting your body back to your dorm, trying your best to keep your head down avoiding the stares your fellow students were giving you.
You were trying to forget and ignore what those girls had said, but it kept playing on repeat in your mind. You knew that your three boys loved you, but the girl’s words filled your head with doubt. You knew that your boyfriends were too good for you, you didn’t deserve them, they would be better off without you or with somebody else. The thoughts were killing you; more tears escaped your eyes at the thought of them with somebody else tearing you apart, but it was necessary for their happiness. You could never make them happy; you could never be enough for them.
You ascended the stairs towards the girls’ dormitories but decided against it opting towards going to your boy’s dorm, wanting to feel the comfort of their room one last time.
You opened the wooden door but met by silence from the other side. The boys still had an hour of class left, leaving you to sit in sadness alone for a while longer before you would be breaking your own heart.
Walking across the room you stood in front of the mirror taking in your reflection, red puffy eyes, tear-stained cheeks. Looking at yourself you understood what the girls saw, you had no idea how Remus, Sirius, and James had stayed with you as long as they had, but it was time you finally put them out of their misery even though it was killing you. Thinking about what would happen in less than an hour the tears pooled in your eyes once more, but you quickly grabbed a tissue from the box on Remus’ desk beside the mirror and wiped your eyes and the falling tears. You made your way into the connected bathroom, wanting to at least look somewhat presentable before the boys returned. You washed your face with cold water, the cool water washing away any redness, but not concealing the sadness that still lingered in your eyes.
The book in front of you could not hold your attention, your focus solely on the door of the dorm, just waiting. James’ soft blanket comforting you slightly but never distracting enough.
The door burst open and the loud chatter between the boys filled the quiet room. Their laughs warmed your heart, momentarily causing you to forget what was going to happen.
“Bunny, you’re here!” Remus just about shouted, running to you and getting on top of you kissing you all over your face.
You couldn’t help the giggle that left your lips, but sadness bubbled up within you at the fact that you would never experience this again.
You softly pushed Remus off of you making him sit on his calves looking at you in a very confused manner.
“I need to talk with all of you,” you said trying to keep your voice steady, hoping they couldn’t tell how much you had been crying.
Sirius and James made their way to the bed as well, sitting beside Remus.
“That sounds so serious… you aren’t breaking up with us are you, pup?” Sirius joked, but your eyes widened, and you opened your mouth to reply, but no sound came out.
“Wait?! Are you?” James asked worriedly, noticing your face and lack of words.
You were fiddling with your hands, not looking in their eyes.
“Uhm… well… the thing is…. Uhm… y-yes.”
Tears filled your eyes when you finally muttered the words, not believing this was real, but you knew it needed to be done.
“What?! No! I was just kidding, you can’t break up with us, why would you say that?!” Sirius exclaimed, not believing his own ears. Tears gathered in all of their eyes, unbeknownst to you, since you still refused to meet their eyes.
“Bunny… you don’t mean that,” Remus tried, his voice breaking slightly at the effort of trying to contain his tears.
“I-I do, I’m s-sorry, I can’t be with you anymore,” you stammered, tears now leaking down your face once more. Your hands were shaking, and your limbs felt heavy, your heart shattering into a million pieces. You quickly got off of the bed facing the door wanting nothing more than to leave, not wanting to look at their faces because you knew if you did you would break even more.
They all stood from the bed as well walking towards you. James reached for your arm, but Sirius stopped him.
“Please, y/n, don’t do this… we love you; don’t you love us?” James tried, not trying to conceal his tears any longer, letting them fall freely down his cheeks.
“It’s f-for the b-best.”
“Y/n, don’t you love us anymore?” Sirius repeated James’ question since you chose to not answer, not wanting to lie.
A long silence ensued, you didn’t want to lie, but you knew that it was what you had to do for them to hate you.
“… n-no,” you whispered.
All of their hearts collectively shattered. Both Remus and James were freely crying, but Sirius was fuming, angry tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Fine! Then leave!” Sirius shouted causing you to jump slightly. Sirius felt his heartbreak and he felt guilty for scaring you, but he was just so angry and sad, he didn’t know how to handle it.
You quickly walked towards the door opening it, but before you left you turned around letting yourself cave and get one last look. Your breath caught in your throat when you took in their tear-covered faces, your already shattered heart turned to dust.
Whispering an almost inaudible ‘I’m sorry, you slid out the door, leaving the boys heartbroken and most of all confused as to when you suddenly stopped loving them.
You raced towards your own dorm, opening and slamming the door shut as soon as you had made it inside. As soon as the door was completely shut your legs failed you and you crumbled on the floor, loud sobs leaving your quivering lips. You had never felt pain like this before, it felt like someone had cut your heart out and ripped it apart in front of you, leaving you a bleeding broken mess.
Lily, who was laying in her bed, was startled by your sudden entrance but was quickly by your side as soon as you collapsed.
“Y/n/n, what’s wrong? What did they do?” she asked, clearly expecting the boys to be behind this, but also not quite believing they could hurt you to this point.
“I-I b-brok-e up w-w-with them!” you sobbed out, hiccups making it much harder to formulate a decent-sounding sentence.
“You did what?! Why? Just yesterday you were madly in love… what happened?” Lily’s confusion shone clearly through her tone, not understanding why you would do such a thing.
“P-please, I j-just want to sl-sleep,” there was nothing you wanted more than to lay in your bed and just disappear.
Lily just nodded and helped you towards your bed, helping you remove your shoes and grabbing your sleepshirt, which happened to be one of the boys’ shirts.
“Do you want to sleep in this?” Lily asked carefully.
You instantly nodded and grabbed the shirt from her grasp, wanting nothing more than to be comforted by your boys, but since that wasn’t an option, you opted for this.
Slipping into the warmth of your blanket the tears never ceased, but your eyes still fell shut, wanting to sleep the pain away.
“Do you want me to grab dinner for you later?” Lily asked softly, but already knowing the answer.
“No thanks… can you close the curtains around my bed?”
Lily sighed but did as you asked, knowing you just needed time.
In their dorm, Remus and James were pacing around the room whilst Sirius sat on Remus’ bed, trying to calm himself before dinner.
“I don’t understand, we were all fine yesterday,” James muttered loudly enough for the two others to hear him as well.
“What is it you don’t understand, Prongs? She loved us and now she doesn’t, ‘s as simple as that,” Sirius stated, his tone laced with bitterness, choosing to be angry instead of letting the sadness consume him.
Remus stopped his pacing and looked at Sirius’ seated form, “you don’t really believe that do you, Pads? … Prongs is right, we were all fine yesterday.”
Sirius just let out a ‘humph’ and crossed his arms, rising from the bed.
“Whatever, let’s just go to dinner… she’ll probably be there celebrating her freedom from us.”
This time James stopped to look at Sirius, “you know she would never do that and besides something doesn’t seem right… it’s too out of the blue.”
Remus nodded and let out an agreeing hum and they both followed Sirius towards the door.
Days passed; you hadn’t left your bed unless you had to use the bathroom. You were drowning in tears the pain in your heart not subsiding.
The teachers were informed that you were “sick” and that you needed some time to recover from your sudden illness.
The only time you had gotten any form of nutarians was when Lily basically forced you to consume something, anything. She was growing more worried each passing day, having talked to the boys and keeping them updated on your situation, since they all were worried as well and asked her to keep an eye on you for them since they hadn’t seen you since the day of the breakup.
The news of your breakup spread like wildfire; people not used to see the three boys without even a trace of you.
Remus was the first to experience a couple of the girls flirting very aggressively with him, but he brushed it off, knowing they could never replace you; it was you or nothing. Sirius was the next, he was less nice and told the girls to leave him alone. Lastly was James, he almost cried, wishing he could get you back, so he could be free from any other girls.
The girls were growing agitated by the lack of attention they were getting from the three Marauders, clearly not understanding why they were so upset by losing you.
It had been more than a week; Lily was studying in the library when she heard your name spoken behind one of the bookshelves. She stood from her seat, moving closer to listen to the girls on the other side.
“Ugh, it’s so frustrating! Sirius totally dismissed me the other day,” one of the girls complained.
“I know! I don’t understand, it’s been a week, they should be over her by now.”
“Don’t worry, they’ll soon realize that she wasn’t even that great and then they’ll be all over us,” the last girl said with a proud smirk.
The wheels in Lily’s head turned as she absorbed the conversation and as the last cog clicked into place realization struck – her legs couldn’t have moved faster out of the library if she tried, but she was on a mission to find the three heartbroken Marauders.
“REMUS!” Lily was sprinting towards the black lake where the three boys had been residing most of the week.
“Woah, Lily, calm down, love,” Remus chuckled and got up from his seated position to be level with Lily.
Lily sputtered, trying to catch her breath, bending so her hands were on her knees.
“Y/n… y/n,” Lily started, still struggling to get a word in between her gasping breaths.
“What’s wrong with y/n? is she okay?” Sirius said as he and James stood, panic flooding between the three of them at the thought that something had happened to you.
“She’s… fine… hhhh…” Lily drew a deep breath, regaining her ability to speak, “I don’t think she wanted to break up with you.”
“What do you mean?” Remus cocked an eyebrow, hope blossoming in the pit of his stomach at the prospect of getting their bunny back.
“She obviously did, she said she doesn’t love us anymore, so that’s it,” Sirius crossed his arms, his sadness still concealed by anger.
“She does love you, a lot actually… she’s been crying the whole week, she hasn’t left her bed… or dorm room for that matter,” Lily explained.
“I heard some girls talking about you three and y/n; they were speaking very ill of her and though I’m not sure, I think there’s a connection with them and y/n’s sudden need to end it with you three.”
“Are you sure? We don’t want to get our hopes up for nothing… we just really miss her,” James said sadly, all of them scared that their hearts would be broken all over again.
“I’m certain… she never shuts up about how much she loves you, which was the reason I was so shocked when she came in crying saying she had ended it.”
Lily hadn’t had the chance to properly finish her explanation before Sirius was bolting towards the castle and towards Gryffindor tower, with Remus and James close on his heel.
When three boys entered your dorm room, all out of breath and red in their faces, you were asleep curled up on your bed, still wearing what the boys recognized as Sirius’ t-shirt. They couldn’t ignore the dried tears that stained your cheeks, your face red from the crying, your lips turned down in a sad frown, even in sleep.
Remus was the first to walk towards your bed, seating himself beside you, slowly stroking your cheek as to wake you. James and Sirius placed themselves on the bed as well, waiting for you to open your beautiful eyes.
“Puppy… you gotta wake up now,” Sirius spoke softly, rubbing your back gently.
You stirred and slowly opened your eyes, focusing on the three boys on your bed; instantly deciding that you were dreaming, not believing that they could really be there.
“Hi… Remmy, Siri, and Jamsie,” you grogged out, voice hoarse from the constant crying.
“I wish you were here in real life.”
“Baby, we are here, this is real life,” James chuckled softly, still scared that you really didn’t love them.
You quickly sat up, reaching out and touching Remus’ face, only to just as quickly retract your hand when you felt the very real Remus sitting in front of you.
“What are you doing here?” You breathed quickly, not wanting them to see you in your broken state.
“Lily was worried about you… and she overheard something interesting in the library from some girls… so we want you to tell us what happened,” Remus spoke slowly and reached out to take your fiddling hands in his.
“What do you mean?” you played dumb, not wanting to answer their question, knowing you would break again if you did.
“We want you to tell us why you broke up with us, and not to lie this time,” Sirius was trying to conceal his anger, not wanting to upset you even further.
You let out a shaky breath, not knowing where to start; you looked between them all, all of them eager to hear what you had to say and listening intently.
“I was talking to this group of girls, and they got into my head about how you're all too good for me I don't deserve you... I just feel like you guys deserve someone way better than me and more beautiful than me that's why I wanted to give you an opportunity to be free from me.”
The three boy’s eyes widened in shock at your words, all three of their jaws open wide almost hanging on the floor from pure disbelief.
“Bunny, you're the most beautiful girl we've ever known we love you so much more than you ever know... We are the ones who don't deserve you, you’re an absolute angel and you should never let any stupid lowlife girls tell you that you're not good enough,” Remus said reaching out and stroking your cheek softly, tears gathered in his eyes.
Sirius’s eyes flashed red, he was in two minds, keeping you company or going to murder the girls who made you believe such nonsense, but he chose the first option, scooting closer to you and engulfing you in his arms.
“Puppy, please never listen to those stupid girls again... This week without you has been pure agony I've been stuck with these two idiots for far too long,” Sirius whispered to you whilst stroking your hair.
“Does that mean that we can get back together,” James said with a shy grin.
“Of course, if you'll have me back,” you looked at all three of them hopefully knowing that they in no way were obligated to get back together with you after what you'd put them through.
“Of course, will have you, we can't imagine life without you… a week was way too long without you,” Sirius said, his fingers tilting your chin so that you're forced to look into his eyes, he leaned down and kissed your lips - a whole week's worth of passion translated into this kiss.
Remus and James both moved so that they could embrace both you and Sirius creating one big ball of love.
#poly marauders#marauders#marauders fluff#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#marauders x reader#marauders angst#remus lupin#sirius black#james potter
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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
#fred wealsey fic#fred weasly x reader#fred weasley#harry potter imagine#fred Weasley imagine#fred Weasley x reader#reader insert#reader has acne#reader is an unreliable narrator#reader x fred Weasley#fred Weasley fanfic#fred Weasley fluff#hurt/comfort#Fred weasley x reader
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🎀 pink (Din)
🧼 laundry detergent (fake dating)
🍄cottage core (innocent kink)
with some fluff and smut included maybe?? 🥺👉👈💘
Hi @ppslutt I don't think we've interacted so hello! Thank you for this request! Omg i am both soft and amused by this idea. Hope you like this... Din is such a cheeky bb but at the same time a feral fucking machine hehe
500 follower celebration (closed now)
Warnings: Asshole ex boyfriend, protective mando, innocent reader, unprotected piv smut, fingering, 18+
source: @reilink
"Can I sit here?"
Din startled. He had been glaring holes into the metal table at the cantina for so long he almost forgot there were other people around. He was in between bounties. Waiting for Karga to come up with something worth his time.
He nodded at the seat across from him which you fell into. He would usually say no, preferring to be left alone, but you were hardly a threat. Young and apparently unarmed. You looked stressed. Eyes darting all over the room. Were you in trouble?
"Thank you." You tapped your fingertips on the table. "My ex is here and I don't want him to see me alone."
"Are you in some kind of trouble?"
"No." You stare down at your lap. "I just don't want to talk to him."
That made sense, but Din couldn't understand why you were talking to him specifically. Most people feared Mandalorians. He expected you to want to hire him or ask him to kill your ex. You glanced over your shoulder. Din followed your gaze, identifying the man in question, an arrogant looking human with his arm around a girl with her back to you both.
"I'll leave you alone in a minute." You turned your attention back to him. "What's your name, sir?"
"Mando." He grunted. You replied with your name. Din's ears perked up when he heard it. The sound of it echoing in his mind. He had never heard such a name before. "Have you ever seen a Mandalorian before?" Din couldn't help but ask.
"Is that what you are?" You felt embarrassed at his amused tone. "Am I supposed to bow or something?"
Din chuckled, which came out as a crackle through the voice coder. "No. But people tend to stay away from me because- because we're killers."
"Oh." You swallowed a gasp. It never occurred to you to be afraid. "I didn't know. I've never been off world."
"What the fuck are you doing here?" You snapped your head up to see your ex standing over you, an angry look on his face. "I thought you didn't like going out."
"I-I can go where I please!" You jut your chin out.
"Fucking bitch. You're just spying on me, aren't you?" Your ex spat. Din clenched his fist, not liking the way this bastard was speaking to you. He could easily break this man's arm and hardly break a sweat.
"I'm not!" You cried shrilly. "I didn't know you'd even be here."
"What are you doing with him?" Your ex turned to Mando with a sneer. "Tryin to make me jealous?"
"Obviously it worked." You glared. "Now go away."
"No hang on- you're gonna come with me and we're gonna talk."
"I think it's time for you to go." Din rested his hand on his holster, his voice impossibly low. You shivered in your seat.
"Whatever." The man gave up, backing up a little. "Good luck with this one, Mando. She's a prude."
You looked down in shame feeling angry tears sting your eyes. It was hard to believe you once loved this asshole. Din felt his temper flare in his chest. Your ex finally left, looking over his shoulder a few times to watch you and Din.
"I'm sorry." You wrapped your arms around yourself. "I'll leave you alone now."
"I don't mind." Din said, surprising himself. He hated seeing you so upset. He thought about going up to that bastard and putting a hole in his chest, but that wouldn't make you feel better. "Can I get you something?"
"I don't know." You looked up at the bar trying to read the menu overhead.
"What kind of fake boyfriend would I be?" Din joked, hoping to see you smile. It worked. You let out a small giggle into your hand that made Din's heart constrict strangely. He ordered you a Tatooine Sunset.
"You don't want one?"
"No. Thank you." Din hesitated before adding "I don't remove my helmet."
"Ever?" Your eyes widened.
"Not in front of people."
"Oh." You took a small sip. "It's really yummy. Thank you."
Din noticed the prick from earlier still watching you both. "Come over here, ad'ika." He tapped the seat next to him.
"Why?" You asked, looking up from your cup.
"Because that nurf herder is watching us."
"Oh." You frowned, moving to sit next to Mando.
"Lean into me."
"Like this?" You asked again, tilting your head onto his cold beskar paldron.
"Yes. Good." Din nodded, enjoying the look of anger that passed over that bastard's face. "Sit closer."
"I-I am." You blushed, moving until your legs were pressed against him. He wasn't super comfortable with all the metal.
"On my lap, ad'ika." Din patted his thigh. He was being bold but something about your instant trust in him made him want to hold you closer. Feel your soft body on his. You go bright red as you stand and then perch on his knee. His gloved hand covered your lower back.
"Look at him." Din instructed, smirking behind his helmet.
"Oh he's so mad." You giggled. "This is fun, mando."
"It is, ad'ika." Din couldn't' help but agree.
"Wh-what does adeeka mean?" Your tongue got caught on the syllables.
"It means 'little one'."
"I'm-i'm not a child." You frowned, ducking your head. A weak objection as you were sitting in his lap right now.
"It's not just for children." Din placed another arm around your legs, pulling them more securely onto his lap. He regretted that he was in full armor because he could not feel you but that was also probably a good thing or else he'd be hard. You smelled divine.
"Mando he's still staring." You whispered against his cowl which was surprisingly soft.
"Shall we make him even more uncomfortable?"
"Mhm." You nodded, kissing Mando on his cool beskar helmet, where his cheek would be. "How's that?"
"You can do better than that." Din encouraged, enjoying the little game.
"Oh yeah!" You grinned, feeling your competitive spirit rising. "How about this?" You lowered your head, leaning against his neck, kissing him through the cowl. You could feel his warm neck and strong pulse against your lilps. He swallowed hard, his hand tightening over your thigh.
"We should walk out now. Really make him jealous." Din suggested, mostly to stop you from giving him a full on erection.
"Oh yeah." You hopped off his lap, taking his large leather clad hand in yours. "Come on."
Once outside in the warm sun you laughed at your antics. You had never had so much fun. You used to fear your ex. He was mean and cruel. You felt safe now that you had Mando. You tried not to worry what would happen when Mando was gone. Din watched you hungrily, beaming up at him, your face lit up in the daylight. He subtly turned off his tracking view in his visor so he could just see you without any distractions on his screen.
"Thank you Mando."
"You're welcome." He let go of your hand making your face fall. "What's wrong?"
"I want to keep playing."
"What do you propose?" Din felt his cock twitch behind his flight suit.
"I think he would be really jealous if I had marks on my neck." You suggested boldly. Din shook his head in disbelief.
"You are not a prude, you know that? I'm sorry he said that to you."
"I was only a prude with him. He was ugly." You grimaced but recovered. "You're beautiful, Mando, and I want- I want you. Not just to make him jealous but I want you."
"Oh Ad'ika..." Din chuckled. "We can do both."
This led to Din taking you in the alleyway behind the cantina. First he knelt down between your legs and fingered you until you were dripping into his hand. He wanted to watch your little cunt squeeze and flutter. Your little mewls grew louder and louder until you came with a cry. Din loved how innocent you were. You didn't even know how to be quiet. You didn't hide your pleasure. He hoped your shitty ex was listening. Hearing your sounds that he never got to draw from you.
Next he stood lifting you up with ease onto his hips. You were already delirious from your first orgasm you shot up to the stars when he entered you. You tightened your legs around his waist, holding onto his broad shoulders. All thoughts of being seen or herd left your mind. You were overwhelmed, Mando pushing into every corner of your senses along with your pussy.
"Fuck..." Din grunted, feeling your hot walls suck him to the hilt. It had been so long he realized how sensitive he was. And you were so tight. He held your ass up, pulling it to grind into him with every stroke.
"Oh Mando!" Your head fell back against the wall. "This-it's so good."
"Mmm you feel amazing, ad'ika. So fucking perfect." Din watched your face slacken with the pleasure he was giving you, your plush lips teasing him. He wanted to feel them. He wanted to put his lips over every inch of you. Your eyes were drooping, staring right into his visor.
"Stay with me, little one. Look- look at us." He fucked harder, leaning back slightly despite the ache in his lower back, watching the point where your flesh met. Your little swollen clit was sitting right on top of his dick, smashing against his pelvis with every stroke.
"Oh-Maker-I'm gonna cum again." You cried, scrabbling against his shoulders for better leverage. You wanted to fuck him back. Din readjusted his grip allowing one hand to be free to circle your clit.
"Who's making you cum?"
"You! You, Mando!" You cried feeling your stomach go incredibly tight then spasming with your orgasm.
"You think anyone else could make you feel this?" Din sped up also nearing his own climax. His voice was rough and torn up, cracking and stressing the voicecoder.
"No-no one else!" You answered eagerly, wanting to please him. "I don't want anyone else."
"Good girl. Fuck- you want to be mine?" He felt his cock twitching. He was seconds away from cumming inside of you. This was the last chance to pull out.
"I want to-be yours- please." You nodded vigorously, looking up at him so he could see you meant it. You dug your heels into his lower back. His grunts became short and quick with each thrust then he came abruptly, crashing his forehead against yours. You gasped feeling the spot where you were joined grow incredibly wet.
"Stars..." Din hissed feeling his pleasure prickle down his spine into his cock. "You mean it, ad'ika?"
"Yes. Show me the stars, Mando."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My masterlist
500 Follower Celebration Masterlist
Permanent Taglist: @ajeff855 @what-iwish-you-knew @kirsteng42 @fan-of-encouragement @sleep-tight1 @pascalisfairyy @ceniington, @prettypedros 🧁, @pascal-rascal424 @axshadows @prideandpascal @frenchyjuju @pedrosmustache @blackmarketmummy @Idreamofboobear @pretty-brown-eyess @persephones-garden @javierpinme @mylittlesenaar @bellaorisa @elinedjarin @beskarboobs @beskar-candy @dindjarinneedsahug @anaaaispunk @headinthestarz
Din Taglist: @a-skov @pasckles
#din djarin#din djarin x y/n#din djarin x you#din x reader#din djarin smut#mando smut#the mandolarian#mando x you#the mandalorian fanfiction#mandalorian smut#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal character#pedro pascal fanfiction#padika's request game#follower celebration
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Tsc as things my friends have said
(PART TWO)
Dru: Julian just asked me if you guys were romantic or
Kit, who had previously been laying on top of Ty, stroking his hair: nO WhY wOuLd yOu tHiNk ThAT
dru:
kit: it’s called platonic friendship dru
•••
*looking at a photo*
Simon: I look like a dead corpse
Jace: you are a dead corpse
•••
Kit: just spent the last five minutes spinning in circles
Ty: oh fun
Kit: yeah I feel like throwing up
Ty: sit down and drink some water
Ash: don’t listen to him. Dehydrate yourself child
•••
Will: last night I was sort of hyper
Will: I kept saying “Charlie and the chocolate factory” and screaming and having weird spasms on the ground
Will: usually Tessa gets mad at me but last night she just kind of looked at me and went ‘yeah?’ Every time I shrieked like we were having a conversation
Jem, exasperated: HYPER doesnt even BEGIN to cover it
•••
Kit: leaping femurs
Dru: wtf
Dru: leaping femurs????
Kit: yeah
Dru: okay
Kit: there was this ceral called leaping lemurs
kit: and I thought it said ’leaping femurs’ so now, leaping femurs
•••
Clary, about anything: I give up. Claim me, universe
•••
Lucie: I was rereading your scene
Lucie: and you must have the oh italcized
cordelia: why?
Lucie: dramatic effect. That oh- its tasty
Cordelia: not sure I understand but okie dokie
•••
Alec, throwing a pillow at Jace: wake up dingus
•••
Kit: I don’t like you
Ash: why?
Kit: well, you’re ugly
Ash: that’s not very nice
Kit: wasn’t trying to be
Ash: well, you’re ugly too
Kit: thanks I guess
Ash: that didn’t elicit the appropriate reaction
Ash: well, you’re a pear
Kit: so I’m green and squished?
kit: that’s so mean to Shrek, ash
Ash:
•••
Alec: for literally no reason I just heard your voice in my head saying ‘that sounds like depression’
Jace: that sounds like depression
Jace: sounds like something I’d say
#tsc incorrect quotes#tda#tsc#tmi#twp#Kit herondale#ty blackthorn#jace herondale lightwood morgenstern#Simon lewis#simon lovelace#other people I can’t remember atm#Tid#jem carstairs#will herondale
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I Tolerate You... (Sherlock x Reader
Main Masterlist
Fluff Promptlist
Summary - Ever since meeting Sherlock everything seemed to be to be going great. Your life was spiraling upwards but so is your feelings for the great detective. When Molly’s jealous words get the better of you. Your insecurity seems to push Sherlock more in your direction causing another stepping stone to some thing greater and something more then just a friendship.
Anon Requested: 7 and 27 from the Fluff Promptlist
Ever since John moved out you have taken his place. You are now tasked on going everywhere with Sherlock but you don’t mind. Problem is, is the slight age difference. He didn’t get your humor especially the slang that you use on a daily bases since you went back to college.
You dropped out at 20 but now a few years later here you are again. Sherlock was really good when it came to certain assignments, like chemistry, or math but that isn’t the only thing he is good at. He has a great mind and sometimes it is hard to keep up. Unlike John he took time to explain his thought process to you. You didn’t know why though you weren’t anything special. Just a college student who has to much time on their hands. Mycroft seemed to think the same for a time. Yet he has never seen Sherlock treat any other woman this way. Mycroft is the only one who can see how taboo this partnership is/can be. He could tell that Sherlock had no idea of your affections and vise-versa/ There is a good 10 years between you but the chemistry between the two of you is strong. Mycroft decided to give you a chance. He had many tea meetings with you when Sherlock was out. He confronted you on your feelings which you proceeded to deny but once he swore to secrecy you began to spill the beans.
“I mean I don’t know if what I feel exactly is “love” but I know I feel strongly for him...” Mycroft sat and listened before asking. “What made these feelings come about?” This caused you to pause. “I know everyone says this but he really is brilliant, but I don’t want him for that reason.” You pause again trying to gather your thoughts. “He is very... I don’t know the term... accommodating? Sweet maybe? He doesn’t make me feel bad about myself.” You say dragging your thumb along the rim of your cup. “He doesn’t make me feel like a college drop out though I know he deduced it from the start he didn’t point it out... And you know Sherlock he will take any opportunity to show his brilliance.” Mycroft looks at you before saying. “What stops you from pursuing him?” He asks and you shrug. “I am to young for him... I am 24 about to turn 25 and he is in his mid-thirties.” You let out a sigh. “And I know I am way to childish for him. He would probably want someone more his age...” You say. Mycroft begins to interject but you continue to speak. “I mean. He must have deduced that I liked him... He just doesn’t want to say anything. I don’t blame him though. I would rather be here and stay his friend then not be here and lose what we have...” Mycrofts eyes seem to widen. “You really care for him don’t you...” You nod.
“Yeah... Honestly I don’t know if I would still be here if it wasn’t for him. He showed me that set backs don’t determine what a great mind can do.” You look up at Mycroft “ In Sherlocks case it may be social cues or understanding certain emotion. For me?” You set the tea cup down and place your hands in your lap. “For me it is my lack of motivation... He gives me that motivation. He inspired me to go back to college. I dropped out when I was 20. I was 23 when I met him and here I am nearly 25 and I am already at the top of my class.” Mycroft shifts slightly. “That is truely inspiring (Y/N). I am glad my brother has done some good but I will say he can be quite oblivious.” Mycroft stands up grabbing his umbrella and hanging it over his wrist. “That may work out in your favor because so far I believe he hasn’t caught on to your affections.” He walks over to the main door and turns back to you. “If something does become of you... You have my blessing.” He says with a nod before exiting. You feel heat come to your cheeks when you hear the door in the floor bellow slam shut.
As of right now you are sitting in front of him as he looks through his microscope in the morgue lab thing. He was spewing some facts on a current case when he notices that you weren’t adding anything to the conversation. He looks up at you and you just continue to stare. “Has my excellence rendered you speechless?” He asks with a smug look on his face and you groan. “No dude you have fuzz in your hair.” You say and lean over and pretend to remove something from his hair. In reality you just wanted to run your hair through his magnificent curls. “Why do you insist on calling me dude? You sound more American by the day.” He says and you laugh. “I am American dipshit.” Sherlock only rolls his eyes. “And insanely vulgar as usual (Y/N)...” “Just admit it! You are so in love with me.” You say. This causes you to let out another ugly belly laugh. If your eyes weren’t closed you would have noticed Sherlock’s slight smile before he continued with his work while you continue your math homework.
Suddenly the door opens to see Molly who you have come acquainted with, yet she seems a little standoffish. You feel her look between the two of you. “Hey Molly!” You say and she gives a strained yet polite “Hi.” You continue your work. “You know a lab is no place to do college work.” Molly says as she walks up next to Sherlock. He doesn’t look up from his work but he says. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you Molly...” He says in his regular monotone voice. You both look shocked. “Why would I be jealous of her!” Molly exclaims. “She is just some college student! She’s ju-” “She is just a woman who receives most of my attention.” He says turning toward her “That is what makes you jealous Molly and your vibe is off putting now please.” He waves her off and Molly has a shocked look but she quickly rushes off while saying “You are even using her terminology...” Sherlock goes back to writing his notes when you speak up. “She is right you know... I am just a college student.” You say fiddling with your pencil. Sherlock pauses and looks up again. “Like... I don’t understand why you chose me as your partner in solving crime...” You say and begin packing your things. “You are feeling insecure. You shouldn’t let things people say get to you.” You pause in your packing and look up at him. Sherlock stands up and moves around the table and stands in front of you.
“I can’t really help it Sherlock... I mean why should she be jealous. She is a beautiful woman who is way closer to your age a-” “Why would your age affect how I feel?” He asks looking down at you. You have yet to meet his eye. “And what do you feel Sherlock? I am just some college drop out looking for redemption...I am nothing special...” You feel Sherlock place a hand on your shoulder. “Plus you don’t feel anything. Well for me at least. You always said sentiment was a weakness... And you also sa-” “I know what I say (Y/N)!” He exclaims causing you to jump and look up at him. “Sentiment is a weakness.” He says and your face falls. “It’s a feeling and I am not use to it. I’m not use to you.” You look confused and go to say something but he covers your mouth. “Let me speak... I am not good with words and I need to get this out.” He says and uncovers your mouth. He places both hands on your shoulders and sighs. “I am not use to you as in... I am not use to the feelings you give me... I... I don’t know the feeling it’s just.” He pauses for a moment and paces away from you his back facing you. “I know... I feel... I… I tolerate you… That is the only way I can describe it. I know it isn’t the chemical imbalance of love at least... at least not yet but I-” “I love you too Sherlock...” Sherlock's posture straightens as he turns around. You walk up to him and smile. “I know you don’t understand it yet and you don’t have to say it back but... I will be here waiting for when you are ready.” You say and he nods. “Thank you (Y/N)...” He leans down and kisses your temple. “I really... I really appreciate that.” Your face was beet red which caused a smirk to come over his face but overall this was the best moment you will probably have your entire life. It is sad that someone was there watching you waiting to ruin it.
#bbc sherlock#sherlock x reader#sherlock#eventual Sherlock x reader#slight angst#friends to lovers#john watson#mycroft holmes#soft sherlock#platonic john watson#platonic mycroft holmes#sherlock fluff#eventual fluff#fluff
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Part 4 of incorrect quotes because i feel obligated to make more due to the sheer number of people who liked it
Dream: My dearest beloved fuckos, is a fun, gender-neutral way to begin a speech
George: See also, esteemed bastards
Bad: Gentlefolk, Ferals, and Domesticated cryptids.
Sapnap: My fellow yees and haws
~~~~~~~
Techno:Hey I know skyrim is revered as a classic but are we just going to ignore the fact that the entire game only had like 3 voice actors
Wilbur:Stop right there criminal cum
Techno:My ancestors are smiling at me, bastard, can you say the same
~~~~~~~
Foolish:When's your bedtime :)
Purpled: Whenever I next collapse in purely up to the gods
~~~~~~
Ranboo:Human skin is a fursuit for skeletons
Tubbo: i’m going to debone you like a fucking trout
~~~~~~
Bad:You’re enough
Bad: love yourself!!!!!!! or suffer my wrath!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dream:And by wrath I mean love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Bad:no I mean wrath!!!!! You reading this, if you don't love yourself I’ll beat you with a stick!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
~~~~~~~
Bad:I hope everyone is today well! And tomorrow!!!! After that you’re on your own.
~~~~~~
Bad:what am I supposed to do all day while you’re at work
Skeppy:I don’t know, what do you normally do while I’m gone
Bad: wait for you to get back
~~~~~~
Velvet:For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5am on the day I can sleep in
Ant:Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.
Velvet:Early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch
~~~~~~
Tubbo: 3:23 AM make a wish
Ranboo: I wish that you would go to sleep
Tuddo: Yeah well I wish I grew an inch taller every day as you get an inch shorter until you’re as flat as as a piece of paper and I’m 11 feet tall
Ranboo: You’re going to die of a mixture of skeletal instability and heart disease.
Tubbo: Yeah but I’ll look good while doing it.
~~~~~~
Bad:Disrespect me again and I’ll determine your bodies resonant frequency and play a jaunty horn solo that boils your miserable organs inside out
~~~~~~
Quackity: If I were dating you? Well, heh. Let’s just say horses wouldn't be called horses anymore
Karl: hey what the honk does this mean…..I’m shaking what does this mean!
~~~~~~
Skeppy: Are you ok?
Bad wrapped in a burrito blanket drinking his 6th cup of coffee: Yes, this is exactly what mental stability looks like
~~~~~~
Sam: My hands are cold
Ponk: *holds their hands*
Ponk: better?
Sam: My lips are cold too
~~~~~~
George at dream’s funeral: can I have a moment alone with them?
Sapnap: of course *leaves*
George leaning over dream’s casket: Now listen, I know you’re not dead.
Dream: yeah no shit
~~~~~~
Skeppy, jokingly: I should have Bad kill you for that.
Bad, peering around the corner: Who do I need to kill?
Skeppy: Wh- no, I was just kidding around.
Bad, pulling out a switchblade: No, who’s bothering you
~~~~~~
Bad *watching the news*: Some idiot tried to fight a squid at the aquarium.
Skeppy *covered in ink*: Maybe the squirt was being a dick.
~~~~~~
Peacock: *spreads feathers at Bad*
Skeppy: It’s trying to attract a mate
Bad, extremely confused: *shyly lifts top*
Skeppy: No!
~~~~~~
Sapnap: Karl, do you eat olives? My dad wants to know
Karl: No, I hate olives. Olives are the spawn of satan. I hate olives so much my mom forced me to live in Mount olive for the rest of my childhood as a curse from the olive gods. Do you understand how much olives have ruined my life? I'm so offended that you asked me that have some consideration for people who have been abused by olives please!
Sapnap: K A R L ……….they’re just olives!!?
Karl: JUST OLIVES EXCUSE!
~~~~~~
Tommy: If you’re bored you can simply close your eyes and rotate a cow in your mind. It’s free and the cops can’t stop you
~~~~~~
Wilbur: is there anyone even named sheldon irl?
Tubbo: my class turtle from 6th grade :)
Wilbur: that’s a turtle
Tubbo: When god sings with his creations, will a turtle not be part of the choir?
~~~~~~
Ranboo: No bcuz why do ppl like salad?? What’s so good about it
Tubbo: chew leaf like god intended
Ranboo: No
Tubbo: Abandon god and see what he does next time you lift your hands in prayer
~~~~~~~
Tommy: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly.
Wilbur, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.
~~~~~~
Quackity: So according to the cease and desist order I got, apparently you can’t ‘legally’ be a lawyer if your license is ‘cut out of a cereal box’.
~~~~~~
Puffy: If you had too, what would you give up food or sex?
Bad: Sex.
Skeppy: Seriously, answer faster.
Bad: I’m sorry honey, when they said sex I wasn’t thinking about sex with you.
Skeppy: It’s like a giant hug.
Puffy: Ant, what about you? What would you give up sex or food?
Ant: Food.
Puffy: Okay, how about sex or dinosaurs?
Ant: ……...Oh my God it’s like the movie Sophie’s Choice.
Gumi: What about you Velvet? What would you give up sex or food?
Velvet: Oh… um… I don’t know, it’s too hard.
Gumi: No, you gotta pick one.
Velvet: Um, food… no, sex… no, food…sex… food. Ugh! I don’t know! I want both! I- I want Antfrost on bread!
~~~~~~~
Tommy, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.
~~~~~~~
Bad: Why are you guys acting like this?
Boomer: Oh, we’re not acting. We really are like this.
~~~~~~
Techno: Dream has only knocked me out three times this week. Our friendship is really developing.
~~~~~~
Tommy: You’re pathetic!
Wilbur: You’re pathetic-er!
Techno: You’re both losers.
~~~~~~
Bad: I wish I could help you, but I shorn’t.
Skeppy: Bad, please!
Bad: What part of shorn’t don’t you understand?
~~~~~~
Tubbo: Why did you leave Wrestlemania on for Michal?
Ranboo: They need to learn how to protect us.
~~~~~~
Antfrost: I regret getting dragged into your heterosexual tomfoolery.
~~~~~~
Bad: Strawberry milk doesn’t taste like strawberry OR milk.
Skeppy: Go the fuck to sleep Bad!
Bad: LANGUAGE!!
~~~~~~
Ranboo: Tubbo, please calm down.
Tubbo: I asked for two large fries!
Tubbo: *dumps fries onto table*
Tubbo: But all they did was give me a MILLION FUCKING LITTLE ONES!
~~~~~~
Bad: That was the worst throw ever. Of all time.
Skeppy: Not my fault. Somebody put a wall in the way.
~~~~~~
Wilbur: When you’ve been on the internet for as long as I have, you develop thick skin.
Tommy: Navy blue isn’t your color.
Wilbur: Navy blue brings out my eyes you prick! *Chases after Tommy*
~~~~~~
Bad: *Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere*
Puffy: Where did you get that?.
Bad: My pocket.
Puffy: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket?
Bad: Skills.
~~~~~~
Tubbo: I will come to your house after work and knock on your window at 11 AM. You will not open the curtains, knowing full well what awaits you, but the knocking only grows louder, more demanding. Finally it stops, your ears ringing. You nervously let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You're safe now. Minutes pass by and you start to relax. And then you hear a knock at the front door. Like before, you stay still and clutch the blankets around you. You try to tell your self that it's just your imagination. Maybe the milk man? But why would he come so late? Everyone else was asleep, save for Naomi who was playing video games down stairs. To your relief, the knocking stops after a few. Minutes and you breath easy once more. Until you hear a knock on your bedroom door. You don't move. It's just your imagination. She isn't here. She can't be here. You tell yourself, shutting your eyes and willing yourself to sleep. The knock comes again, but with horror you realize that it came from the closet inside your room. You know that you have no choice. You get up, climbing out of bed with shaking limbs. You walk to the closest, trembling, and holding back the tears threatening to spill over your porcelain cheeks. You hesitate with your hand over the closet handle. Maybe it's just your imagination? She's not really there. You can go to sleep and laugh it off in the morning. Your naive thoughts are cut off by another, more demanding knock on the closet door, inches from your face. You know what you have to do. You open the closet door, and there she stands. Chuck e cheese, the mouse looms over you in the dim light. It's soulless eyes boor into you. It raises its arms, and you flinch as it begins to floss at lightning speed. Tears spill over your cheeks. This is the last thing you'll ever see.
Ranboo: Wait, Chuck e cheese’s pronouns are she/her? Trans Chuck e cheese? Good for her.
~~~~~~~~
Bad: Would you like something to drink? *They opened the fridge* We have water, milk, juice, spiders, Dr. Pepper-
Quackity: Spiders?
Bad: Spiders it is then.
Quackity: No, that wasn’t-
*But they were already pouring him a brimming glass of spiders…
~~~~~~
Puffy : Make her pussy wet not her eyes.
Velvet : Make his dick hard not his life.
Punz : Break her bed not her heart.
Skeppy : Play with his boobs not his feelings.
Ant : Get on his dick not his nerves.
Bad : Always salt your pasta while boiling it.
~~~~~~~
Wilbur: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons!
Tommy: Bet you I can!
Phil: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*
~~~~~~~
Ant: We need a way to lure in new customers?
Ponk: Maybe we could have some fun, interactive events!
Skeppy: Badboyhalo bath water.
Bad: ABSOLUTELY NOT!
~~~~~~~~
Fundy: GET BACK HERE YOU DUMB FUCK!
Wilbur: LET ME RUN FROM THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!
~~~~~~~~
Bad: Mint is just cold spicy.
Pummel party Squad: …
Gumi: What the actual fuck is wrong with you.
~~~~~~~~
Quackity: Isn’t it amazing how I can feel so bad and still look so good?
~~~~~~~
Tommy: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt?
Phil:
Phil: Why are you eating dirt?
Tommy: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.
~~~~~~~
Tubbo: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies.
Quackity: You’re too young to have enemies.
Tubbo: You don’t even know.
~~~~~~~~
Skeppy: Is there a cactus where your heart should be?
Puffy: What’s up your ass this morning!
Bad: *walks in* …Hi!!
Puffy: Hmm… nevermind.
Skeppy: WAIT NO!
~~~~~~~~
Skeppy: Ha! Don’t you know the trappers trap can trap the trapper?
Skeppy: I must be losing it, I’m quoting Bad.
~~~~~~~
Skeppy: Bad, I sense hostility.
Bad: Good, because I hate you
~~~~~~~
Bad: Are you a painting?
Skeppy: What-?
Bad: Because I want to pin you to a wall.
Skeppy: OH GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY YOU WANTED TO HANG ME OR SOMETHING-
~~~~~~
Tommy: You’re giving me a sticker?
Phil: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!”
Tommy: I’m not a preschooler.
Phil: Fine, I’ll take it back-
Tommy: I earned this, back off!
~~~~~~
Dream, sweating: George, there’s something I need to ask you-
George: Finally! You’re proposing!
Dream: How’d you know?
George: Dream, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.
George: I even picked it up once
~~~~~~~~
*Bad and Skeppy looking at a locked gate into a park*
Bad: Aw. :(
Skeppy: You know what they say.
Bad: Please don’t-
Skeppy: BE GAY DO CRIME! *hops gate*
Bad: Frick-
~~~~~~~~
let me know if ya’ll want more <3
#dream smp#incorrect quotes#mcyt incorrect quotes#pummel party saturday#gumi my beloved#skephalo#badboyhalo#skeppy#dnf#dream team#georgenotfound#sapnap#quackity#karl jacobs#ant and velvet#happy duo incorrect quotes#captain puffy#purpled and foolish have an interaction#dsmp tommy#sbi#dsmp techno#philza#very gay undertones in this#beeduo#tubbo my beloved#ranboo my beloved#also a smidge of ponk and sam
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Kiss Me More (Part IIII) - Zemo/Reader
Masterlist | Part One | Part Two | Part Three |
Summary: Reader ponders the decision they made after meeting Zemo in Riga. Series now complete!
Words: 5.2k
Warnings: Kissing, marijuana & alcohol abuse, heavy angst & depression, small reference to suicide, implied casual sex, yearning
A/N (also check out A/N at end when finished reading): This is it, everyone! I was going to end this completely differently originally, but after some thinking -- and some light peer pressure from ya’ll, I did something a little different. I did fight with this part the most out of all of them, so I hope it’s still good. Please enjoy. And thank you for all the love on this series, it’s been so fun to write! Also I was listening to this song while writing this.
---
The incessant buzz of her alarm clock jolted her out of her dreamless sleep. Fumbling in the dark, she slapped the top of it, hitting the snooze button and looking at the interface with bleary eyes.
4:00 A.M. It stared, indifferent, back at her tired face.
She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and lamenting, bargaining, half expecting the clock to turn back time when she opened her eyes again. Unfortunately, it did not. With a huff, she threw back the covers and stretched, disturbing the orange cat that slept in the empty spot next to her where her husband used to lay.
Snorting, the cat lifted its head to look at her as she climbed out of bed before curling back up in a ball where her feet had been.
“Don’t mind me, just getting ready for work so I can feed us,” she said, grumpily, then in a moment of repentance, affectionately scratching her behind the ears.
She had always been a night owl, so she didn’t think it would be possible to ever get used to waking this early. No human was meant to function at this time. It was the one part of the job she hated most. The rest of it was manageable, though it was still work.
Setting about her morning routine, she showered, made coffee, and donned her uniform. Eating a day-old bagel and nursing her coffee on her tiny balcony, she looked out over the darkened horizon. It was far too early to even enjoy a sunrise.
There was a saying, time heals all wounds. After her husband died, she’d heard it a lot. It was a saying she had come to find true. But it’d been well over a year since she’d left Helmut, alone in that swanky hotel room, and it still hurt like it was yesterday.
“I understand,” he’d murmured, and she felt the ghost of his kiss on her forehead, arms around her waist, even now. She shivered, not from the chill of the morning air.
She’d left her old life behind, all of it. Sam and Bucky, too, about a month after their time in Riga. She couldn’t look them in the eyes after what she’d done.
But, she was proud of what they’d accomplished. They’d defeated the Flag Smashers. Bucky seemed happier, more at peace. Sam had accepted his role as the new Captain America. John Walker seemed to have faded into irrelevancy. All the loose ends had been tied up in a pretty little bow.
Except for hers.
Which is why she moved, sold all the stuff in her tiny NYC apartment, and packed her car full with what she couldn’t bear to part with, some photos and momentos from a different lifetime. Her car didn’t stop until she hit the Atlantic Ocean, on an island just south of Charleston. All but undiscovered by tourists, the residents in the sleepy beach town kept to themselves, and she could go about her life in peace, undisturbed.
She couldn’t just run away from her problems, that was why she’d left Zemo. It seemed counterintuitive, but in her mind, it made sense. The problems would catch up to her, like they always had. The dissatisfaction she had with her life, with herself, was always going to return. And she knew she had to be alone to deal to face it head on. Like a wounded animal, crawling into the woods, there were only two ways things could end here; either she’d heal and come out stronger, or eventually she’d die. And so far, the healing part wasn’t going great.
Each day was a matter of convincing herself that she’d made the right choice. Especially now, as her eyes burned, fighting to stay open against the inviting embrace of sleep.
Despite it being dark outside, the bakery was bustling already when she walked in the service entrance. It smelled amazing, as always. Sweet and warm, a cacophony of aromas, baking bread, fresh coffee, sugar.
She set about the usual preparations to open up, packaging orders for the regulars, sweeping the floor, wiping down countertops. Once the place was open, she didn’t have to work the register, as she prepared batches of dough in the back for proofing, to be baked the next day.
Before, she’d been a terrible cook, but she’d grown comfortable in the kitchen after learning to bake. There was something satisfying about working with her hands, at this point she’d memorized all the recipes and the work became second nature to her. Now, she always had fresh bread and pastries in her kitchen, although they were the slightly disformed, ones the shop owners deemed too ugly for the glass display cases. Daylight was cherished, even if she barely saw it inside the shop. Because while she was awake, busy with work, her thoughts remained pleasant.
At night it was the hardest. Things got quiet, lonely. When she got home, she poured herself a drink. Cheap whiskey, the kind that came in a plastic bottle and burned on it’s way down. She had never been much of a drinker before, she was now. Her thoughts were more manageable after a drink. Especially because she was usually thinking of Helmut.
It was often that she wondered what he may be doing, and those thoughts usually ended with the image of him lying in the sun, poolside, on some island in the Pacific Ocean, drinking expensive champagne with a supermodel. It wasn’t a particularly comforting thought to her, and yet she was plagued by some variation of it every night.
Sometimes, she’d humor herself, and imagine what they might be doing had she decided to stay with him. Unfortunately, thinking of that was more upsetting. She wanted it, selfishly, though she wasn’t willing to admit it.
When she was younger, it had been so easy to block out the pain, to just press forward, no matter what. Much to her dismay, it didn’t get easier as she got older. Years of watching those she loved in pain, years of being in pain had taken a toll on her resilience. She wasn’t the strong woman she once was, she was weak.
That night, one drink had turned into two, into three. Wallowing in her own self-pity had become second-nature, she felt like Hamlet, lamenting her circumstances, a constant turmoil monologuing in her brain. But this night felt particularly worse, for some reason.
For the record, she had been doing better. But she was all-too-familiar with how grief worked, pulling her back down the dark side of the mountain, where she was forced to fight her demons over and over again. At some point, they were going to win.
It was a funny thing. Despite the loss of her husband, who she had loved dearly, his death had been easier to accept. Final. She couldn’t bring him back. Helmut on the other hand, was still out there, an open wound that could never fully heal.
Before she knew it, she was four drinks in, at her bedside table, fumbling through the bottom drawer, until she found what she was looking for.
Back on her couch, she stared at the card in her hand, the hastily written phone number on it, an international line. Helmut had given it to her, the day she left, stuck it in her purse while she wasn’t looking. She didn’t discover it until she had returned home.
It had been months since she last did this, pulled the card out of its hidden place in her drawer, placed it on the coffee table in front of her next to her phone, and considered dialing it. It had been a frequent occurrence when she first moved here, when she couldn’t find a job and spent most of her mornings either hungover, or stumbling home from rendezvous with men whose names she wouldn’t remember, and she wouldn’t care to, because there was only one man she really wanted. She could only hope he’d be as close as one call away. But she never called.
I mean really, he’d probably moved on by this point. If she was going to call, she should have done it months ago, when there was more of a chance that he’d give a fuck.
She considered this a setback. But she’d made her way halfway through the cheap bottle of whiskey, it was the drunkest she’d been in ages and she was curious. She didn’t know whose number it was, who’d be on the other end of the line, and never knew why Helmut would want her to have it to begin with.
At this point, she wasn’t capable of good decision making. In general, it hadn’t always been her strong suit. So why did doing the right thing matter now? It didn’t, she decided.
Taking a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle, she ensured she wouldn’t remember what happened next, at least not clearly.
The phone rang twice before someone picked up. “Hello?” she didn’t recognize the sound of the man on the other end of the line immediately, so she didn’t answer. All she had wanted to do was maybe hear Helmut’s voice, he didn’t even need to know it was her that was calling.
“Hello?” the man repeated, and she realized it wasn’t completely unfamiliar. The grandfatherly, comforting tone wasn’t her former lover, but someone close to him. And she supposed that wasn’t terrible.
“Is this Oeznik?” she asked.
“It is,” he said after some hesitation. “May I ask who’s speaking?”
Truthfully, she was shocked she’d allowed herself to go this far. This was a bad idea. If she stopped now she could get off without doing any real damage. But just as she was about to hang up, she heard her name, muffled, on the other end of the line.
“H-How do you know it’s me?” She raised the phone back to her ear.
“I thought you sounded familiar,” Oeznik chuckled, low and soft. “Helmut told me you might call.”
“He did?” she squeaked.
“Yes, although it was awhile ago. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I uh….I….well….” she managed. “I guess I just….I guess I wanted to see how he was doing.” Her words flowed together like the liquor she was drinking, she knew she sounded drunk.
“Good, since we last spoke,” he said. “I don’t hear from him much these days...maybe every couple months. As you might imagine, he’s trying to keep a low profile for the time being.”
She nodded. Perhaps Zemo was as lonely as she was, hidden away in some cabin in the middle of nowhere. Though she had to imagine it looked much nicer than her current place, and maybe he had better company than a portly orange cat that begrudgingly liked him. “I understand.”
“How have you been?” he asked.
It sounded stupid, but she realized it was the first time someone had asked her that. Sincerely. Checked up on her. Even if she was the one who had dialed the number in the first place.
“I’m good,” her voice cracked. “Just keeping busy.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “Helmut always had such nice things to say about you.”
“Really?” she couldn’t stop herself.
“Of course, would you like me to let him know you called?”
“No, no...I wouldn’t want to bother him,” she choked on her words, something catching in her throat.
“Are you sure you’re alright, dear?”
“I’m okay, I just….” she felt tears prick at the back of her eyes, lowering her voice, since she didn’t think her normal register would come out as anything other than a whine. “I think I made a horrible mistake.”
“What’s the matter? What did you do?”
She shook her head, shaking the tears loose and now they were lining her lashes, threatening to spill over. However, she managed to make the next words she spoke come out clearly. “Nothing, I just...it’s really stupid, I really shouldn’t have called.”
He sighed on the other end of the line, and she felt like, despite her attempt at staying calm, he could still see that she wasn’t somehow. “It seemed Helmut was awfully sweet on you,” Oeznik’s words next came hesitantly, calculated. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but he told me if you ever called, to help you with whatever you might need, no matter the ask.”
Oh God, what had she done? A sob left her, one she couldn’t control, and she clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle any more. Her tears were flowing freely now, tracking down her cheeks and along her chin. She wiped at them clumsily, clearing her throat.
“That’s very kind of him, but you can’t help me. I’m so sorry to bother you, please just forget I even called,” she forced a smile on her face so that hopefully he could hear it. “Goodbye.”
She hung up, horrified, and within seconds had deleted the call log from her phone. She’d been thoughtful enough not to memorize the number, and the lighter she used whenever she smoked sat in front of her. Without a second though, she burned the card, watching the paper blacken and disintegrate, until it was all but a pile of soot on her Wal-Mart coffee table. It was a fair punishment, and ensured she’d never get the chance to embarrass herself like that again.
And then she cried, sobbed into a pillow next to her, until her tears ran dry and she wore herself out, falling asleep on the couch alone. When she’d wake the next morning, the only evidence of her actions would be a throbbing headache and a dead phone.
She wouldn’t remember the call.
----
Life went on, as it always did. It had been about a month, and since that night she grew more indifferent, remembered how to ignore heartbreak. For now, she was stuck in her purgatory, waking up before the sun and falling asleep before it set, smoking joints, drinking cheap liquor, and going on the occasional date with people who she didn’t really like, tourists who would leave after a week and wanted temporary company.
Despite everything, she partly believed things were getting better. Maybe they weren’t, but the possibility that someday they would seemed feasible. And that was enough, for now.
On her days off, she’d walk to the beach and lay on a blanket, reading a book until the sun dipped below the horizon and lit up the sky in hues of pinks and purples. She found a record player at an antique store and began collecting vinyls, listening to obscure artists whose albums she found in the $1 bin. It wasn’t so bad. Life wasn’t so bad.
She took a shower after work. Tomorrow was her off day, and she wasn’t sure what she had planned besides maybe watching a movie and getting stoned. Maybe she’d try going to the beach. The weather was getting warmer, and she could even go swimming if the water wasn’t too cold.
Exhausted from her day of work, she laid down in her bed, still in her robe, her hair wrapped in a towel around her head. The sun was setting outside, the windchimes she’d hung outside slowly clanging together, birds singing in the warm spring air. Her cat hopped on the bed, offered an affectionate trill and curled up at her side, purring, in a rare display of affection. A cool breeze drifted through the open window. And for the first time in over a year, she felt content. Closing her eyes, she savored the moment, committed it to memory, so she could recall it the next time she was drunk-crying in front of her TV.
She fell asleep slowly, so slowly that when she woke, startled by something in her kitchen clattering to the floor, it felt like she hadn’t even been sleeping at all. The clock next to her red 11:31 p.m. and it was pitch dark outside, the cool breeze from before had grown stronger and her bedroom curtains were billowing, wind whistling loudly through the apartment. Her cat had left her side, and she frowned, shivering in the sudden cold.
Pulling the towel off her head, she made her way over to the window with the intention to close it, sleepily, lazily, until she heard something else. A creak in the floorboard. A heavy footstep in her kitchen. That wasn’t just her cat.
Some kind of muscle memory was ignited then, an ancient instinct that called to her from a different lifetime. Darting across the room, the gun she kept was in her hand, stealthily pulled from its hiding spot beneath her mattress. Truth be told, she never thought she would’ve needed it. Anyone looking for her would be smart enough to kill her in her sleep, not be so foolish as to wake her first with their heavy footsteps.
A dark silhouette stalked through her kitchen, moving slowly. It was a man, she assumed, based on his broader figure, and lack of coordination. In her experience, women were often stealthier without trying. He took another step, the floor creaking below him, shuffling on bargain linoleum.
Staying low, she crept forward, ducking stealthily behind furniture, avoiding the spots on the floor she knew made noise. It didn’t appear the intruder had a weapon, in fact, it seemed he was bumbling about, searching for something. A burglar, and a bad one at that. An island full of vacation homes owned by rich doctors and they thought they’d find valuables in her shitty apartment?
It wasn’t until she was standing directly behind him, gun aimed at his head, that she finally spoke up.
“I believe you’ve come to the wrong place,” she said flatly. “Whatever you’re looking for, it’d be in your best interest to leave empty-handed.”
Her eyes were still adjusting to the dark, but the intruder froze, arms slowly raising in defeat, empty-handed, as he turned around to face her. In the dingy room, she couldn’t make out any of his features, could only see that he was clad in all black.
“Unfortunately, liebling, that wasn’t my intention.”
She would’ve recognized that voice anywhere, though the endearment he’d used was enough to clue her in. Hitting the lightswitch with her free hand, she was face to face with the man she’d spent the past year trying to purge from her memory, Helmut Zemo.
Her gut twisted, her mind raced, but the only thing currently bubbling up, over the surface of every other emotion was the pure, seething rage left behind in the wake of fearing for her life.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she stepped towards him, gun still raised, fuming.
“Hey, hey!” he staggered backwards, hands raised, eyes averted.
“I thought you were a fucking robber!” she hissed. “I thought you were here to kill me!”
“Lower your voice,” he scolded. “You’re going to wake your neighbors.”
Taking a deep breath, she realized she still had her gun trained on him and she lowered it, clicking the safety and discarding the weapon on the countertop. “What the fuck?” she asked. “What the hell is wrong with you? What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I didn’t know you had such a mouth on you,” he smirked, but she wasn’t finished, and she glowered at him.
“You broke into my apartment!” she growled.
“I had to be sure I was in the right place.”
“Yeah? You couldn’t have knocked first?”
He nodded, eyes trailing down to her hands, which were trembling, she hadn’t even realized. He seemed to understand what he’d done then, and she flexed her fingers, eyes locking with his. “I suppose...you may be right,” he said, surrendering.
She felt the rage subsiding as she took in his appearance. He looked not so different from the last time she’d seen him, except a fair amount of stubble covered his jawline in a short beard. He was still devastatingly handsome. Zemo’s dark eyes, filled with longing, drank her in, tilting his head as his gaze shifted to her lips. It was like she could read his mind, she knew what he wanted, what he was thinking. And her body was going to betray her if he kept it up.
Despite everything, she was still upset. Upset and embarrassed, as the light was doing an unflattering expose of her tiny, cluttered apartment, full of mismatched furniture and water-damaged wallpaper that her landlord refused to replace. It probably gave the prison cells that Helmut had spent years in a run for their money, and was in stark contrast to every other aspect of his life.
“What’s this?” he asked, gesturing to the empty liquor bottles on her countertop, stowed in her trash can. “Have you been drinking?”
“Not tonight,” she quipped, on guard. Had to be. As much as some old instinct told her to throw herself into his arms, press her lips to the underside of his jaw, and let him envelope her in the comfort of his embrace, she knew she couldn’t.
“Hmm,” he brushed past her, frowning, looking disappointed, as he made his way to her living room.
“How did you find me?” she asked, eyeing him wearily.
“I’m a wanted man, I trace every call that comes into my estate,” he said over his shoulder.
Helmut was taking inventory of the cramped space, staring at the photos she’d hung in a collage on the wall behind her couch, with a few watercolors painted by her late husband. One in particular, that he was focused on now, was from her wedding. Of all the memories she chose to hang, this one was her fondest, her former partner was all dark curly hair falling into deep blue eyes, and she was the portrait of a blushing bride, wearing a dopey love-drunk smile, gazing at him, ignoring the camera.
“You looked so beautiful on your wedding day,” he said, turning over his shoulder to look at her. He was so out of place here, standing in her living room, for a moment she thought he might be a hallucination, some physical manifestation of the heartbreak she’d experienced. “Although that doesn’t surprise me.”
She flushed, suddenly self-conscious in her thin black robe and still-damp hair. It occurred to her that she wasn’t looking her best, which made this whole situation that much more disconcerting. However, the compliment disarmed her slightly, and the anger she felt began to dissipate, slowly. She was going to offer him something to drink until her cat, who had been absent through the chaos, suddenly jumped up on the back of the couch and promptly hissed at him in an attempt to defend her territory.
“Pumpkin, be nice,” she said, although it was mostly to placate Helmut. Pumpkin never listened to her.
Helmut let her sniff his hand, and she was stunned when the cat rubbed her face against it. Of course, Pumpkin would like him of all people. That made sense. Then again, she supposed it made them not so different. He turned away to look at the rest of the room. “I see you haven’t kicked that bad habit you told me about,” he gestured at the ashtray full of roaches on the coffee table.
“Did you just come to my place to insult me?” she asked, putting her hands on her lips and feigning confidence. She could’ve rolled over and cried and told him how much she missed him, how many nights she’d spent crying over him, and while all of it was true, she felt indignation was the better option for her self-preservation.
“That’s a good question,” Helmut turned to face her now, hands in the pockets of the leather jacket he was wearing. Completely inappropriate for the weather here, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care. “Why do you think I’m here?” he asked.
She shrugged, feigning indifference. “I don’t know, but you shouldn’t be.”
He snorted, his frustration evident, and she saw a glimpse of the man that so many feared, the side that had earned him his dangerous reputation, that had him locked away in a high-security prison for nearly a decade. “I didn’t come all this way for nothing, draga, we’re going to have it out.”
“Fine,” she said, lacing as much venom as she could into her words to prepare herself. “Then get on with it.”
He stared her down, and the expression her wore startled her, something sparkled in his eyes, mischief, relief maybe? It was insulting. Like he didn’t take her seriously. But there was something else there, too, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it was wiped from his visage before it registered.
The tension in the room dissipated slightly when Zemo sat on the arm of the worn couch she’d bought from a yard sale, and she winced. “I spoke to Oeznik the other day,” he said flatly, snorting, eyes focused on a stain on one of the rugs she owned. “He told me he had the pleasure of speaking to a friend of mine about a month ago.”
Frowning, she tilted her head, her eyes meeting Helmut’s. Something in her brain sparked a memory she’d once dismissed as a dream after a particularly bad night of drinking.
“He was concerned, you see, because this friend didn’t seem to be in the best state of mind,” Helmut rose from the arm of the couch, stalking forward slowly, and she couldn’t move backwards, not even if she wanted to, as he could pin her easily against the front door. His voice grew louder, faster as he went on. “He said she was crying, slurring her words, he told me he thought maybe she might be-” Helmut cut himself off abruptly and closed his eyes, clenching one of his fists, a look of distress on his face as he took in a terse breath. “I won’t finish that thought, but you’re a smart girl, you can imagine what I’m getting at.”
Swallowing hard, the phone call came back to her in pieces, the tears, sobbing on the phone to a man she hardly knew. It was the night she finally admitted to herself she’d made a mistake, even though she’d already known it, deep down when she left him in the hotel room.
“Please forgive me for breaking in tonight,” Helmut said. “But I couldn’t bear the thought of you not answering the door, I needed to see with my own eyes that you were okay.”
Exhaling through her nose, she looked at the floor. “It’s not like that. I had too much to drink.” she said, keeping her voice as steady as possible. “It was just a bad night.”
“Then tell me, what was the horrible mistake you made?” he asked, stepping closer. He was close to her, now. So close. And his proximity made everything more difficult.
God, if only she could remember exactly what she’d said, the only thing that came to her were the emotions, desperation, sadness, grief. It was all too much, and he was threatening to bring them all back to destroy her again.
“I shouldn’t have called,” she said, shaking her head. “And I’m sorry. What do you want me to say? What do you want from me?”
“What do I want from you?” He asked, tilting his head, his eyebrows pulling together. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? How hard it was to sit on a plane when all I wanted to do was be here? With you?” His hand rose to cup her cheek, stopping just short of her face when she flinched away from his touch.
“Please stop,” she managed, the burn of tears behind her eyes almost menacing. The last thing she needed was to cry in front of him. “You’re undoing everything.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked.
“You’re….you’re here,” she murmured weakly, wetness seeping, glossing over her pupils. “I only have so much capacity for pain right now, if you touch me now, you’ll ruin everything.”
No one ever had this kind of hold on her, she’d never bent her rules to appease anyone else, and she’d gone toe to toe with super soldiers. He was just a man, and yet, he terrified her.
“You really want me to leave?”
She couldn’t answer, but one tear escaped, sliding down her cheekbone, and she sniffled.
“I’m not the one who did this to you,” his thumb, swiped along her face gently, wiping it away. He’d touched her, just barely, and she was reeling.
“I know,” she stuttered, gasping. “I know it was me, but I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“You are so stubborn.” His expression softened as he looked upon her, his thumb tracing underneath her jaw, tilting her head upwards to look at him. Malleable, she obliged. “I’ve thought about you everyday since the night we spent together. You’ve plagued me. That can’t be a coincidence. Are you really happier this way? You must be honest with me.”
She shook her head, blinking out fresh tears. “No, I’m not. I just thought...by the time I realized I made the wrong choice, you’d have moved on. People like us don��t get to be happy.”
“Says who?”
How could she refuse him anymore? This would continue to go on until she gave in. And from the beginning, she wanted to give in. There was no use in fighting the inevitable. The small point of contact -- his hand on her chin -- radiated impressive warmth, and she could feel every part of herself being attracted to him, quelling some ache deep within her.
Reaching up, she clutched at Helmut’s palm, which didn’t last long, because he pulled her into his arms, nestling her head underneath his chin. She melted into his embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his solid frame.
“Come home with me,” he coaxed softly.
“I will,” she murmured, surrendering to the comfort of his presence. “But you have to let me bring Pumpkin.”
He chuckled, warm and amiable, the vibration of his chest echoing in her own. “Of course, you’ll bring Pumpkin,” he murmured into her hair. Oh, how she had missed hearing him laugh. They could’ve stayed that way for hours, and she would’ve been content, but he pulled away, hands on either side of her face as he studied her.
Unable to hold back any longer, she leaned in to kiss him. It was chaste at first, all the memories of her last night with him came flooding back quickly when he parted his lips to deepen the kiss, but she didn’t want that quite yet, just needed a moment to process this. The simple comfort of being held by him, kissed by him, was more than enough for now. He’d been waiting for this, she could assume in the way that he responded, pulling her impossibly close so she was engulfed in him.
Her stomach flipped, a warmth blossoming in her chest as he pulled away, their foreheads touching. “Oh, I missed you,” she sighed, shivering as his beard tickled her neck, his mouth on her sensitive skin.
“And I, you,” he murmured. His eyes studied her, carefully, up close, and for the first time since meeting him, she really let him see her, teary-eyed and vulnerable.
She would never let him go again.
---
A/N: So here we are! I know it’s been a ride, but I’m really excited for these two. However, I don’t feel like I’m done writing for Zemo yet. If ya’ll have any headcanons, thoughts, questions, requests, etc, feel free to drop them in my ask box or shoot me a DM. I’d love to talk more about him. I also would be down to write more oneshots based around this series, because I am sort of like….okay, they obviously have a connection, but they don’t know that much about each other, and I may or may not have a light future already mapped out for them. I might do an epilogue at some point even. But if you have anything you’d like to add, let me know!
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Could you write something about Harry being really insecure about his body so you lay him on the bed and praise him? You kiss every insecurity he has and he starts to love his body a lot more
Hi! I wasn't quite sure how to approach this at first, but I think that I figured something out that turned out to be pretty good! I hope you enjoy it!!
Warnings: talking about body image and online trolls, non-sexual nudity, a bit of cursing ig, mostly fluff and a touch of angst
WC: 1.2k
Harry didn’t get it.
People all across the world thought he was attractive. He was considered a heartthrob. He was nominated for awards like “International Crush,” “Best Look,” “Aussie’s Fave Hottie,” and “Best Male Hottie.” Celebrities had crushes on him, people praised him for his looks, and all of his past partners made it very clear how attracted to him they were.
So why couldn’t he feel that way about himself?
For every person that loved him, there was another that hated him. Another one that said he was ugly, that he should cover every mirror in his house, how they didn’t understand how anyone could think he’s handsome. Those comments echoed in the chamber of his mind constantly, affirming his own thoughts about himself. Every time he looked at himself in the mirror, he just… wasn’t happy. And whenever he voiced these thoughts, people looked at him like he was crazy. “How could you think that?” they would say, “you’re super hot.” And that was that. No real encouragement, nothing that would actually help him with the self-destructive thoughts that plagued him every day. It was like no one believed that he could have insecurities. But he did. Everyone does.
It was another day when he was feeling down on himself. His girlfriend was in the shower, and he was getting dressed in their room. He reached for a t-shirt and was about to pull it on when he looked at himself in the mirror. Harry looked over his torso, trying to search for what other people saw in him. For what magazines saw when they claimed him as one of the sexiest men alive, and for what millions of men, women, and everyone in between saw when they thirsted after him. But his search came up empty. All that he could see were the flaws in his body, the things that he hated that perhaps no one else saw. A deep frown was etched across his face before he even realized it, and he barely registered that tears were starting to spring to his eyes. He scrubbed those away quickly, not wanting his girlfriend to see him like this, but he couldn’t erase the frown or the crease in his eyebrows.
It was then that Y/n exited the bathroom, wrapped in only a towel. As she was picking out her clothes from their dresser, she glanced into the mirror and saw the look on Harry’s face as he was clutching his shirt in his hand. Growing increasingly concerned, she set her clothing on the bed and swiftly walked to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head between his shoulder blades.
“Are you okay, Harry?” she asked softly, “you look upset about something.”
“‘M fine,” Harry lied.
He could feel Y/n frown against his skin, “You don’t need to hide from me, Harry. Whatever problems you’re having, I’m here to help you. Just like you help me.”
He faltered for a moment. What if she reacted like everyone else? If she just told him he was attractive and left it at that, without showing any true support? But he decided to voice his insecurities anyway. Y/n was the best partner he had ever had. No matter what version of himself he brought to the table, she was always there for him to lean on, and she loved him unconditionally. Maybe it would be okay.
“Well, ehm, I jus’... don’ really see what people see ‘n me, I guess. Like, people see me as this international heartthrob and I jus’ can’t understand why, ‘ve never seen that in m’self, y’ know? Never found m’self handsome or anything like tha’. And f’ everyone that compliments me, it feels like ten say that ‘m ‘ideous. Sometimes, it jus’ affects me more than other times, and it jus’ came to m’ mind a little more as I was gettin dressed this mornin,” Harry explained, looking at the floor so he didn’t have to see himself in their mirror.
“Harry,” he heard from behind him, “can you look at me, please?”
He turned around slowly, his hands beginning to tremble as he looked Y/n in the eye. Her expression was soft and sympathetic as she gently cupped his face in her hands.
“Baby, I completely understand where you’re coming from. I had a lot of trouble with my body image when I was a teenager. But I promise you, Harry, that you are absolutely stunning. You take my breath away every time I look at you. I know that people love to talk shit online, especially about famous people that they don’t know, but those people are completely insignificant. Only listen to people that lift you up, even if that means ignoring yourself. Getting over hurdles like this isn’t easy, but I can promise you that I will be by your side 100%, and I will do everything I can to help you love yourself as much as I love you. Stopping the negative self-talk that you’ve been giving yourself for years may be difficult, but I hope that if I tell you how amazing you are every day, maybe you’ll start to believe it. You’re so beautiful, Harry, on the inside and on the outside.”
The tears that were in his eyes earlier now started to drip down his cheeks. His heart was so full, it felt like it was going to burst. How did he get so lucky?
“Darlin,” he whispered, his voice cracking, “I-I don’ even know what t’ say. I love y’ s’ much. Thank y’. Y’ support means the world t’ me. “
She smiled warmly, wiping his tears away with her thumbs, “Of course, my love. I’ll always be here for you, and I’m gonna tell you each and every day how fucking beautiful you are.”
Harry wrapped his arms around her tightly, desperately needing her touch. Y/n happily reciprocated, holding him in an iron grip, hoping that he could feel how deeply she loved him. Then, an idea struck her.
“Honey, can you do something for me?” when he nodded, she continued, “could you lay on the bed for me?”
He nodded again, pulling away from her embrace and lying down on the satin sheets. She clambered on top of him, gently pulling off his pants. Harry looked at her, confused. She smiled at him, placing a soft kiss on his lips before moving her attention elsewhere. Her lips darted across his body, planting sweet kisses over the skin. A kiss was pressed to his thigh, another to his bicep, and yet another to his stomach until she was sure she covered every inch of his body. With every loving gesture, she whispered a new complement.
“You are beautiful. You are loved.”
Slowly, in that moment, his insecurities started to fade away. All that Harry could focus on was the gentle press of lips against his skin, and the loving comments that danced across the surface. He began to believe them too, that maybe he truly was handsome. That maybe he could find a way to truly love himself. He knew that that moment would take a long time to get to. It wouldn’t happen overnight by any means, but with the help of his therapist, his incredible girlfriend, and the other people in his life that were important to him, he could complete his journey to self-love and start to see himself the way that Y/n saw him.
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#tw body insecurity#request#anon#anon request
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Hii~ If it’s fine can I ask for a draken x fem reader where she’s a worker at the same brothel he lives in and he’s there really close and he’s pretty protective of her since they’re dating and one day she meets takemichi along with hina and emma and he accidentally trips and kind of gropes her, and draken gets kind of mad he threatens takemichi but she stops him b/c she knew it was an accident after that draken apologizes and makes it clear she’s his girlfriend and how he’s protective of her :3
(And everyone is aged up and if you can, can there be a jealous Emma to I love her but I also love draken😭)
Hi, sweety, your request first in my blog and I'm so glad that this story was so unusual and interested experience ✨✨✨
I hope I have understand your idea and you will like this ♡
Warnings: clumsy english text
Should not hide the fact that you have been communicating with the Draken for quite a long time. He was always an attentive companion, sweet and kind. When you needed help, he helped you. When you were sad, he supported you. At some point, you began to understand each other's feelings and emotions. He had a busy life, since adolescence he was a participant in serious conflicts, and the older, the more difficult. You didn't come here because you wanted to, either. Over time, both of you sank lower and lower, but everyone began to change random events.
"Why the fuck should I pay such money for such a stupid whore?!", - a thick-set man was shouting at the top of his voice in the hall. His face was bright red with anger, while you were standing, covered with a sheet and with your head down. All the waiting visitors looked out to find out what was going on.
"Describe briefly what did not suit you, so that we would assess the situation and return the money to you", - the man behind the counter was not affected by his screams and enraged state, he remained calm and was indifferent to the situation as a whole, which further enraged his interlocutor.
"I don't fucking have to explain how this girl provided services, come on, ask her yourself", - roughly grabbing your wrist, the fat guy pulled you on himself, - "Let's ask, well", - he looked at you with angry eyes, - "What did you do??"
"I would ask more politely…"
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH", - interrupting the man, he began to squeeze and shake your hand painfully, - "Come on, answer, slut...though...you know what, if I didn't get the service, then I don't have to pay and other people need to see the defective product from afar..."
The fat guy raised his hand to strike, which you just squinted at because he held you too tightly for you to get out and stand up for yourself. But you didn't feel the impact. When you opened your eyes, you saw how Draken intercepted his hand, then twisted it behind his back.
"Should I break your hands so that you don't raise them on girls, you bastard?"
This memory has remained as vivid to this day. Then you started communicating even more, and you didn't realize that you were developing feelings for him. It was becoming increasingly difficult to serve clients. You felt disgusted when you provided services to various ugly types. But one day you realized that you were representing Draken instead of all these people. You saw his focused face, how his hair falls over his shoulders, and how perfect his cock is for you.
"Hey, [Y/N], what are you thinking about?"
"I just remembered something", - you smiled at your memories, now it was nice to realize that he is always near.
You were walking through the evening streets of Shibuya. A warm breeze pleasantly blew over your face, illuminated by the rays of the setting sun. You took his hand in a desire to be even closer to him. Draken smiled gently, hiding behind his smile a slight blush that appeared on his cheeks.
"Draken-kun!!", - your idyll was interrupted by a familiar voice, to which you both turned, - "Unexpectedly to meet you here", - Takemichi smiled at you with his brightest smile, that after this it is simply impossible to be angry with him.
"Oh, are you with Hina and Emma? Shopping? "
"Something like that...", - the guy showed you a bunch of shopping bags that he had to drag.
"Yes, and we decided to introduce Emma to someone", - Hinata intervened in your conversation, laughing playfully, although she noticed that her friend wasn't laughing, - "Emma?"
"Oh, no, it's alright", - the blonde forced a smile, apparently still tormented by old feelings.
"In that case, do you mind if we..." - the next step for Takemichi turned out to be fatal. Tripping over the uneven asphalt, which he did not notice because of the large number of packages, the guy with a grimace of horror and confusion flew straight at you. All the bags flew out of his hands with a crash when he tried to somehow soften his fall, but everything turned out to be useless. All you felt next was pain. However, you were smarter and managed to land without injury.
But…
It doesn't matter what happened in the past between Takemichi and Draken, but he's not going to tolerate this. It was enough for him that you met in a brothel. A tight vein appeared on his temple, and his fists clenched by themselves.
Your chest ached from the received blow, as you understood, with Takemichi's forehead, plus, he convulsively tried to apologize to you, because of which he buried his knee in your crotch and, even more embarrassed, in an attempt to correct the situation and justify himself to the Draken, touched your boobs, after which he experienced the whole spectrum of horror.
Grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and lifting him off you like a kitten in one movement, Draken pushed the guy away from him and swung for a blow, but…
"Ken, wait!!"
"Eh?", - he looked at you in bewilderment but did not injure Takemichi.
"Stop it, it's too much", - you looked at the frightened poor thing, who was barely holding back his sobs, here they are, the consequences of a hopeless situation, - "Nothing terrible happened, so you shouldn't apologize", - you smiled your sweetest smile to defuse the situation and took Draken by the hand, - "You don't need to be so aggressive, honey."
"Tts", - Emma, who was happy about the situation, suddenly drooped and threw a dissatisfied look at you.
"So you are...dating?" - Hinata covered her mouth with her hand in surprise and smiled, - You look very cute together, don't you, Em ... ma...?
"A great couple, considering that it was possible to choose..."
"That's it, we went, Takemichi, right?" - the girl began to push her friend to continue the evening shopping and not create even more ridiculous situations.
"Uh ... but.."
"Come on, Takemichi!!"
You two just stood there, holding hands and looking after the people who were leaving.
"They are, of course, funny, but was it just my imagination or Emma is jealous?", - you looked into Draken's eyes, excitement crept into your heart, because once upon a time you saw photos of Emma in his room, - "Do you think she...?"
"No", - the guy interrupted you, - "But even if so, everything is long in the past, and now..." - Draken leaned over to you and pressed his forehead to yours, - "...now I love only you", - followed by a long, filled with his love, kiss.
#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers scenarios#tokyo revengers x reader#ken ryuguji#ryuguji ken#ken ryuguji x reader#draken#draken x reader#draken scenario
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Ransom x fem!Reader
Warnings: none (yet) some swearing
Part One
You’ve never wanted to punch somebody in the face so bad until you met Ransom Drysdale. The smug, arrogant, jerk-face had been a thorn in your side since grade school. You both grew up in the Boston area, your parents sending you to the same private schools all the way through high school. You had run in similar crowds but no matter how much your mutual friends tried to get the two of you to get along you never could. For good reason though.
Your family owned and operated Cloak and Dagger Publishing, the direct rival of Ransom’s family’s publishing house, Blood Like Wine. Unlike you and Ransom, your families liked to keep the rivalry in business and not in life. Your father, Jackson Y/L/N and Harlan Thrombey were actually great friends who just liked to rib each other when it came to business, but were proud of the other’s success regardless.
But for some reason you and Ransom could never get to that level of friendship. And you weren’t in any rush to fix that.
Especially when he was pulling shit like this.
You groaned as you opened the door to your office only to see the smirking son of a bitch sitting in your chair, feet propped up on the desk and your favorite fountain pen twirling between his fingers.
“Maria, you’re fired.” You joked to your assistant who nervously looked at you from her desk right outside your door.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N! He just-”
“It’s fine. I know.” You sighed before walking fully into your office, letting the door close behind you.
“Good morning, honey.” Ransom’s voice was sickly sweet.
“Is it?” You snapped. You walked around your desk and pushed his feet off. “Get up.”
“You’re not being very kind to your guest, Y/N. What would dear daddy say about your terrible manners?” Ransom teased but stood up nonetheless. You glared up at him as he stood to his full height.
“Guests are usually wanted and invited, Ransom. Neither of which you are.”
“Honey, you hurt me.” Ransom feigned pain as he gripped his chest. You wanted to stomp your expensive Manolo Blahniks on his toes every time he called you that. It started your junior year of high school and maybe if it was anyone else you would have thought it was a term of endearment but he said it in such a condescending tone you knew it was anything but.
“What do you want, Drysdale?” You let out an exasperated breath.
“Is it so hard to believe that I just wanted to visit an old friend?”
“Ransom, please. Unlike some people I actually have work to do.” You moved around him and sat down, pulling out your laptop. You looked up at him as he watched you with intense blue eyes that made your stomach flutter, annoyingly so.
“I’m actually here for business and not pleasure, honey.” He smirked as he sat down at the chair across from you. “I’m here to formally and personally invite you to Bleeding Hearts.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Bleeding Hearts was the Thrombey annual charity gala that they hosted at Harlan’s expansive, hidden mansion. Your parents had been going every year since Harlan first hosted it and you had started going about five years ago. You would never tell Ransom, but you loved Bleeding Hearts. It gave you an excuse to wear a beautiful ball gown-albeit rented-and to feel like a beautiful princess like the ones you had read about growing up. Harlan always hired a full orchestra to play the most beautiful classical pieces throughout the night and it was like stepping into a time machine. You didn’t understand why Ransom had to come all the way down to your office just to invite you to something that you were already going to.
“I’ve already had Maria send in my RSVP and donation, Ransom. So thank you for the courtesy, but it really wasn’t needed.” You rubbed at your temples, a tension headache now forming from all this ‘excitement’ so early in the morning. And before you’ve even had a sip of your coffee.
“I know. And you gave a nice amount this year. Did daddy finally up your monthly allowance?” He smirked.
Just one punch. Just one and then I’ll be satisfied. Technically he’s trespassing, it could be called self defense.
“Goodbye, Ransom.” You blocked him out as you opened your email and began typing away. You got about two sentences out before you felt your laptop being shut against your hands.
“I wasn’t done.” Ransom whispered, you didn’t realize how close he was until you looked up. He was now leaning over your desk, one hand on your laptop and one hand on the edge of the desk closest to you.
“Shame.”
“I’m here to ask if you wanted to come...as my date.” You snorted out a laugh and laughed even harder as a look of annoyance crossed over his face. He stood up and straightened out his shirt almost nervously.
“God, you’re funny. Now please leave. You’ve already wasted so much of my time with this little joke.” You rolled your eyes as you opened your laptop again.
“I wasn’t kidding, Y/N.” His words were sharp and his eyes blazing.
“Neither was I. Get out of my office, Ransom. Or I will call security.” You glared right back at him.
Ransom looked like he was about to say something but decided against it. He tapped his fingers against your desk and gave you a mock salute.
“See ya around, honey.”
“Close the door on your way out.” You muttered.
You clenched your fists as he left your office, leaving your door wide open. You could hear him laughing his ass all the way down the hall.
Damn you, Ransom Drysdale.
“Y/N, I am so sorry. He just kind of walked in.” Maria rushed into your office, almost tripping over her far too high heels.
“Ria, it’s fine. I know how he is.” You waved her off, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Please, don’t worry about it.”
“Okay…” she said nervously. When you gave her another reassuring smile she relaxed her shoulders. “I have to say though, he is really sexy.”
“Maria.” You sighed. “Get out.”
“Sorry.” She squeaked before exiting your office, closing the door fully.
You leaned back in your chair and let out a long breath. How had today already been the longest day and it wasn’t even nine?
“Good afternoon, sweetheart.”
“Good afternoon, dad.” You smiled as your father snuck his way into your office.
You and your dad had always been close. When you were younger he called you his “little shadow” because you loved to follow him around throughout his day. You would sit in on meetings and you loved when he would let you pretend to lead the team briefings in the morning. It was only natural that you would follow in his footsteps and work for Cloak and Dagger.
Your father always pushed you to be your best. He didn’t let you take shortcuts to get where you were today in the company. You worked your way up and proved your worth and made your father proud.
“What’s this I hear of Ransom Drysdale stopping in this morning?” He sat down across from you.
You rolled your eyes. “Because he doesn’t have anything better to do than irritate me.”
Your father laughed as he slid in his glasses up to the top of his head and then pinched the bridge of his nose. “You two have been fighting like cats and dogs since you were kids. Will this feud between the two of you ever end? And can it be soon? I made a bet with Harlan that you two would finally stop by the time you were twenty-five.”
“Glad to see that my torture has been amusement for you and your little buddy.”
“Just teasing, sugar plum.”
“Please, let’s talk about anything else besides Ransom Drysdale. I’m begging you.” You gave him a warning look over the top of your computer.
“Fine by me.” He clapped his hands together and leaned forward. “How’s it going with Brooke Archer? Has she committed to C&D yet?”
Brooke Archer was an upcoming mystery novelist. Critics called her “the Agatha Cristie of our time” and rightfully so. You had read her first two novels and finished them within a day, completely entranced by her style of writing that had you guessing till the end. She was notoriously self-publishing but now that her books were blowing up she had finally made the decision to sign with a major publishing house. And your father had tasked you with landing her.
“I have a lunch meeting with her tomorrow. I think this could be the closing meeting.” You said confidently.
“Good. I’m proud of you, sugar plum.” He tapped his fingers on your desk. “And please text your mother back. She’s freaking out over what to make for dinner tonight.”
Confused, you pulled your phone out of your bag. You sighed when you saw that you had thirteen missed texts from your lovable but definitely eccentric mother.
“You’d think she’d know what I like by now.” You joked.
“What can I say, she’s a perfectionist.” You dad laughed before saying goodbye and exiting your office.
As you were typing out a response your phone dinged with a new message.
I hope you’re thinking about my proposal from earlier. Wasn’t kidding around this time honey.
Your thumbs hovered over the screen. How the hell had Ransom even gotten your number?
And like I said earlier, neither was I. The answer is no.
He responded only seconds later:
No ugly colors, don’t want to clash with my suit.
You had to give it to him, the man had tenacity.
You’re annoying.
Ransom only responded with a winky face. You shook your head as you exited his chat and went back to responding to your mother, barely noticing the smile that was covering your face thinking of that annoyingly handsome pain in your ass.
#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale imagine#daddy ransom#chris evans x reader#chris evans imagine#chris evans fanfic#chris evans smut#poison and wine
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