#fluff Tumblr posts

  • ao3feed-izuku-midoriya
    07.05.2021 - 7 minutes ago

    Final Words to You I Hate

    Final Words to You I Hate by Pi Cloud

    “I hate you!” Todoroki said, cold passion behind his words. He was not shouting, but he did not need to. Little did Todoroki know those would be the last words he spoke to his father. --- Basically: Todoroki gets into an argument with Endeavor, then Endeavor dies.

    Words: 1258, Chapters: 1/4, Language: English

    Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

    Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

    Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

    Categories: Gen

    Characters: Todoroki Shouto, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Midoriya Izuku, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Class 1-A

    Relationships: Midoriya Izuku & Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku & Everyone

    Additional Tags: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Todoroki Shouto, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Endeavor is Dead, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor's Bad Parenting, Hugs, Todoroki Shouto Needs a Hug

    Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31156121

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  • justjessame
    07.05.2021 - 8 minutes ago

    Babysitting Butcher Chapter 57

    I woke up with Billy pressed against me.  It was dark and I debated throwing a fit and tossing his ass out of the bed, but the warmth of his body felt right to me, and soothing.  My face was still damp from my crying fit and my entire body hurt from the pain of feeling like the man I loved could think that what Ryan had allowed them to do to him was right.  And that Ryan as a child should be allowed to make that decision was something that I had issues with as well.  

    “I know you’re awake,” his voice was quiet, rough.  “I know you are, and I know you’re hurt.”  He pressed his face into my hair and inhaled.  “And I did it.”  His arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me tight into his body, holding me like he was afraid I would pull away or disappear.  “You can’t -” Billy stopped and took another deep breath, breathing me in.  “Ronnie, you can’t pull away from me and shut me out.”  

    My heart felt like it was breaking and clenching tighter all at once.  I knew he was right, at least about pulling away, but hearing him almost make it seem like what Ryan had agreed to allow these strangers to do him was something that was an answer to a problem had cut so deep - if only because Ryan was a child, innocent even if he’d cut down someone Billy had loved beyond measure.  And I just couldn’t argue the point, not when I was arguing it, I was arguing against the person he loved and the person who had been cut down.

    “Please, Ronnie -” Hearing him plead with me didn’t make it easier to turn to him or pull away.  “I love you.”  

    “I love you, too,” my throat hurt, it was dry from the crying and as rough as if I’d been screaming for hours.  “I love you, but I can’t agree with you on this.”  I couldn’t.  Not about Ryan.  Not about his ‘choice’,  

    “You think I only think it’s a good idea cause of what happened to her -” I shook my head.  

    “No, I think you think it’s a good idea because he’s a supe.”  I said it into the darkness, I let him hold me, but I didn’t turn to him.  “I think that you think this is an answer to the supe problem that doesn’t get hands dirty, but where Ryan is concerned -” I shook my head.  “He’s a child, Billy.  That doesn’t change.”  

    “Would you be as opposed if an adult had made the choice for him?”  He asked it into my hair, and I felt the pain of it fly through me.  “If his guardian made it?”

    “If YOU made it,” I supplied for him.  “You want to know if I’d be pissed off at YOU if you signed off on it for him?”  I sighed.  “I’d be disappointed, Billy.”  I tried to think of HOW to explain my stance to him, so he could understand me better.  “Annie.”  I flashed on Hughie’s girlfriend, the sweetest girl I knew.  “Starlight has had her powers for as long as she can remember, basically.”  Billy waited, letting me explain my argument.  “Her parents signed off on her getting Compound V, she knows that now, but when she was a little kid?  She thought she was born with them.”  Just like Ryan WAS actually born with his, but unlike Becca, Annie’s mom made sure she learned to control hers.  “She learned how to harness them, how to keep herself in check, and while you might hate the path she took to get to Hughie, here she is.”  

    “You can’t take away how Ryan was created, Ronnie,” my eyes were closed and I forced down the sigh that was building because he listened to ME.  “Homelander violated her, he forced himself on her for HOURS.”  I knew this, and I knew Billy knew I knew it, but he wanted to remind me.  “She still gave Ryan life -” A fucking martyr, I thought, that’s what he was hellbent on making Becca.  A martyr to motherhood and pro-life after rape, while I wanted to pipe in, I didn’t.  Again, he let me have my say, so it was his turn.  “You don’t agree with her way - the way she chose to raise ‘em, but she didn’t have a support system like -” he stopped, cornered himself with the reality that Becca’s support system was the same fucking company that had put her RIGHT in the path of her rapist.  The same shitty company who would have eventually, without a fucking doubt let me fucking die.  Vought.  Wonder how that shit tasted in his mouth?  “All I’m sayin’ is that it’s easy to point fingers when we don’t know what she was going through.”  Kind of a fade after that strong start, but I didn’t feel smug.  I couldn’t.  

    “I wouldn’t diminish what she went through at his disgusting hands,” I felt fucking pissed that he’d even consider it.  “What I would challenge is the idea that her ONLY choice was the one she chose or that her path was the right one.”  I sighed, finally feeling safe to do so.  “Ryan is broken, Billy.  He is, and putting these inhibitors inside himself?  They are, at BEST, temporary fixes for the issues he’s dealing with - because the heart of his problem is that the people closest to him have lied to him from day one.  And I’m not only talking about her.”  

    The silence fell over us, and eventually - exhausted, we both fell asleep.  But rest?  Rest didn’t actually come to either of us, and I think everyone who took a look at either of us the next day would have known it immediately. 

    #billy butcher x ofc #the boys#alternate universe #FLUFF AND SMUT
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  • cappujinho
    07.05.2021 - 8 minutes ago

    Shower Thoughts

    A/N: I like writing about personal emotions a lot…this feels a little like writing a diary but also like self-therapy and it really helps me. I hope anyone who also feels this way knows that they’re not alone with those feelings. Also happy birthday to the sweetest @sunghoonied!! I wrote this thinking of you and I hope you have the best day ♡ PS. I didn't proofread this so if you find errors kindly lmk please! x
    genre: optional bias (male), meant to comfort you, angst, fluff, talk of loneliness / anxiety but with a good ending!
    words: ~ 2.5 k
    taglist: @lovely-ateez, @mochi-ficz, @soundsofminho, @runaway-fics

    People said that walking was supposed to clear your mind. But then why was it, that you had gotten so lost in your worst thoughts out there? The time spent in fresh air was meant to let your mind wander to calm places and smiling at strangers should have made you feel less lonely. But with every step you took and with every passing face your body felt heavier. Not only did you carry your figure, but the crushing burden that had been nagging at you for weeks.

    Watching others stroll around the streets seemed so easy. And perhaps it should have been easy, after all. It made you wonder, maybe you were the only one whose mind was constantly covered in dark rain clouds. Maybe everyone had their place in the world, and they knew just where and with whom they belonged. Surely, they didn’t overthink every conversation they had with a random stranger. Did their brain also function merely on autopilot in public, while the back of your mind was chaos of doubt and fear? Was there anybody else who spent day to day worrying about never finding someone who could deal with the burden of you and your issues? How was somebody else going to love you if you were this sad?

    Those people that care about you are the ones you should be honest with, after all. There was no brushing off the How Are You question with a quick “I’m fine”. How could someone deal with the real answer you would give? You didn’t want to pull anybody down with you when you were hurting. So then again, maybe it was for the better your apartment was always empty when you came home. With no one to ask you about your feelings, you couldn’t cause anyone else agony and worry. Your own pain was enough – one person was enough to deal with it.

    You shoved your shoes in the corner next to your door. If it wasn’t for your mental state, you would’ve guessed your jacket was a hundred kilos heavy. But even after you had peeled it off, nothing changed. You dragged your body to the bathroom.

    You’d be so proud if only you could go one day without crying. And you had almost made it, had it not been for the godforsaken shower water. There was something about seeing the droplets on your skin and on the tiles that caused your tears to come out freely. The noise of the shower made you feel shut off from the rest of the world. Now it was just you and your salty ocean tears. The tears united with the shower water. It was hard to tell which drops on your cheek had originated in your swollen eyes and which had fallen from the shower head. This way, it seemed almost as if there was an invisible force that was wiping over your face, trying to appease your sobs.

    But there was nobody. And that was why you only cried harder. If only you had listened to your own words when you tried to cheer yourself up. Then maybe you would feel better when you wrapped your arms around your own body. You were desperate. The notion that someone could hold you like this, one day, should have gifted you at least some form of hope. But no, you knew it wouldn’t happen any time soon. Not with this mindset and your sadness.

    You hiccupped helplessly. This was all so tiring. Before you knew it, you sat down on the shower floor under the hot stream. At least there was no one waiting to get into the shower after you. So you wouldn’t have to feel guilty about blocking the bathroom and wasting all the hot water. For a few minutes you remained on the floor, drowning out your cries under the splashing sound. You felt the impulse to scream. Look, I’m here! I’m a person with interests and passions and emotions! Doesn’t anybody see me? I’m sick of only existing! Won’t somebody teach me how to live?

    But at most, that would cause you a noise complaint. If only you weren’t so terrible at talking to people. Maybe you could make a friend someday – when your anxiety got better. Like in a trance, you finally switched off the water and grabbed your towel. You were so utterly lost in your thoughts, that everything went by as if you were only watching from the sidelines. You got out of the shower, dried off, put on some body lotion – an attempt at self-care – and got dressed in the most comfortable, baggy clothes you owned.

    What on earth would you do tonight? There really were only so many ways you could have fun (or rather distract yourself from feeling down) when you were all by yourself and everything reminded you of how lonely you were. The option of just going to sleep slipped past you. But you weren’t tired enough. You knew you’d lie awake for hours, left alone with your thoughts. And crying yourself to sleep was the last thing you wanted right now.

    So you opted for the most mainstream idea: Netflix. You plopped down on the sofa, a steaming hot cup of tea on the small table in front of you. Now you only had one thing left to do. You needed to choose some stupid show and let the problems of tv characters invade your brain and pray they would shove out your own issues. You weren’t even hungry. Although there was a part of you that wished it could have eaten your weight in chocolate, but you knew that had little to do with hunger.

    Just as you reached for the remote control, the sound of your doorbell made you jump. I’ll just let it be. They’ll think I’m not home and leave. Those thoughts came right away. It made you curse yourself. You had just cried over feeling alone, but now you’re shutting out some random neighbor who probably just needs some tiny favor from you. Way to go. So, more to prove a point to yourself than to be friendly, you stepped to your door and opened it.

    “Hi.” It was your neighbor. Your handsome, kind neighbor, who you always met at the local grocery store. You were so mentally exhausted you didn’t even feel self-conscious about looking the way you did. Although you hoped your eyes had recovered from the redness, at least a little. “Hi,” you greeted him back.

    “Look, I really don’t want to be intrusive. And if you want me to leave, I will,” he said. He fumbled with his hands, as if he was nervous about his words. “But I kind of heard you…cry…in the shower. And I know you live alone, and I figured if you’re crying you probably don’t have any company. I guess I just wanted to check whether you’re okay. Do you have someone to talk to?”

    With every word your heart only sped up. You felt like a trapped rabbit in a corner and the meaning of his message only sunk in slowly. Yes, of course. I’ll call my friend and talk to them,you wanted to say. But that would have been a massive lie. And you just couldn’t lie to him. Not when he stood there, in his fuzzy sweater and fresh-out-the-shower damp hair, with eyes so worried and attentive. You weren’t sure if it was from how touched you were by his concern for you, or if it was your sadness catching up to you again. Before you could swallow your tears, your eyes filled to the brim and your vision turned blurry.

    “Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, not sure what for. Hurriedly, you used your sweater paw to wipe your leaking eyes. You didn’t want him to feel bad for you, but now you had achieved just that and more. Your embarrassment set in and you finally came out with the truth. “I don’t have anyone to talk to.”

    “No need to be sorry. It’s alright. We all have those days, don’t we? I just want you to know that you’re not alone. And I have nothing to do…so if you need someone to talk to, or even just to keep you company…I can stay with you for a bit…or you can come over to mine. I just don’t want you to feel alone. But if you would prefer to be by yourself, that’s okay. People deal with things differently.”

    You were so baffled that your ability to speak completely fell through. The idea of someone, an almost-stranger, going so out of their way to make sure you were okay blew you away. He knew nothing about you. But here he was, taking a chance on you, nonetheless. Only then you realized you probably looked like a fool, staring at him but failing to answer. Quickly, you prompted yourself to open your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it.

    “What were you doing just now?” he asked. “Any plans for the evening?”

    “I was going to watch a movie, I guess,” you said. “And I think some company would be very nice.”

    He smiled at you like was your childhood best friend and you had just reconnected after years of being apart. That’s why it felt the more natural to let him enter your apartment. You got into small talk about what it was like living in the building and how his apartment had a mirrored structure to yours. The simplest conversation took your mind off your sorrow right away. You felt like thanking him would be a little dramatic after he had barely settled on your sofa, so you kept it to yourself. Either way, the small smile on your face felt like warm, soothing sunlight on your skin after eight consecutive days of rain.

    “Do you want to talk about anything?” he asked. You thought for a moment.

    “No, I think I’d rather just distract myself,” you said. Even though you were grateful for having him here, you feared if you spilled your guts to him you would only scare him away.

    “Alright,” he said without judgement. “What film were you planning on watching?”

    And so you started your movie. There was a respectful distance between you on the sofa. But his simple presence next to you was more than you could have asked for tonight. He was like a heater, providing safety and comfort in the coldest winter. Hearing someone else chuckle at the jokes in the movie along with you was magnificent. His laughter sounded like a rainbow. It seeped into your body and your soul straightened up and bloomed like a parched flower being watered after all this loneliness.

    But even under all the light, your problems were still here, waiting to nag at you. You knew they would consume you when he returned to his own apartment later. They would laugh at you for trying to socialize but staying closed off as always. Just because someone saw you didn’t mean they understood you and who you are. And how was one supposed to make human connections if they treated their thoughts like strictly confidential information in front of everybody? No, you had to tell him.Impulsively, you pressed the stop-button on the remote. He shot you a questioning gaze.

    “I- I think maybe I do want to talk about something,” you confessed.

    “You can tell me anything. I promise it’ll be safe with me. Let out whatever bothers you,” he said. His lovely, warm eyes were inviting like a haven for you. So you just started to talk. All your frustrations and reasons for anxiety were exiting your lips, floating all around you in the room. Airing out your weary brain finally, after holding everything in for weeks, was uncaging and nothing had felt this good in so long. Although your sadness wasn’t something that could be fixed by doing a task, the more thoughts and worries you explained to him, the easier it became. It wasn’t long before you felt your tears well up once more.

    “It’s okay,” he said with his hand on your shoulder. This time, you didn’t try so hard to blink them away. Where there were emotions, there were tears, and he was right. It was fine to let them out. Through sniffles you finished telling him your issues.

    “Is this okay?” he asked, gently putting his arm around your shoulder to hold your shaking figure. You hummed and nodded in agreement. His warmth was like a blanket to shelter you from the anxiety, if even just for a short while.

    “I don’t expect you to know a solution,” you said. “I need to wait for it to get better. It’ll get better, eventually.”

    “You’re right. It will all resolve,” he said. “I’m sorry things are so difficult. But you’re not alone, okay?”

    You nodded again.

    “Time will heal, I promise,” he said. “And until then, you have to hold on and keep going. The world’s a little cruel sometimes, when it shuts out the ones who struggle and don’t do as well as others. But you’re as much of a part of it as any other human on the street. And you’re just as important as them. You weren’t born to be successful or to achieve things. You’re here to live and be happy. So promise me to take care of yourself, and be gentle to yourself. Because you’re the only person that will be with yourself every second until the end. Please don’t be hard on yourself and have patience for good things to come around. And if it all feels like it’s too much for you, don’t feel guilty about reaching out for help. You can always ring my doorbell if you need something.”

    “Thank you so much,” you cried. Your cheek rested on his shoulder and you sat in silence for a while. It was unbelievable which wonders such a small conversation between two people could do. Your heart felt lighter and the thoughts were no longer racing through your head. Peace was settling in, and you welcomed it more than ever.

    “Now that I’ve told you about me, what kind of person are you?” you asked through tears. He chuckled a little. All you knew until now was that he had a heart of gold. Which, to be fair, meant your impression of him was off to a pretty good start already. Your thoughts were cautious as you wondered…Maybe he could be my friend.

    You abandoned the movie. Instead, you spent all evening chatting about whatever came to your mind. You discussed childhood dreams, favorite dishes, your best playlists down to the cutes dog breeds you had ever seen. It felt great, getting to know somebody. And your suspicions came true. His big heart wasn’t the only thing admirable about him. He was funny and knew just what to say when you felt awkward or shy. When you slipped into bed that night, you did so with a smile on your face. You had always told yourself that you weren’t alone. But sometimes, the most optimistic person needed a small reminder coming from somebody else. Here was yours.

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  • sinisterspidey
    07.05.2021 - 10 minutes ago

    anchor ☆ chapter 1 - stranger

    a/n: here it is! special thanks again to the lovely @rosyparkers​ for the amazing header and for being my editor once again :’) and also thank you to @duskholland​ for helping me plan out some of the ideas for this chapter :D i hope you all enjoy, and please feel free to send feedback!! oh, and, as usual, this chapter is titled ‘stranger’ after the song by vampire weekend, and the lyrics featured at the beginning of this chapter are from that song :’)

    warnings: mentions of drinking and smoking and sex, slut-shaming, angst, dare i say...a smidge of fluff

    word count: 6.1k

    ☆。*。☆。

    who knows the reason that kindness lost its hold? those better angels confined to minor roles i left the wilding, wilding, wilding days of old your house is warmer the wilderness is cold

    As Peter stares blankly into his small dorm room closet—that mostly contains Ned’s absurdly large male accessory collection—he realizes he doesn’t have much to choose from. He could wear jeans and a t-shirt, but what if it’s not a casual dinner? Even though it’s the same dinner he’s been going to for two years, you’ll be there.

    The rational part of his mind says that it’s no different than any other dinner, but Peter’s never really paid attention to the rational part of his mind when it came to you.

    Maybe I’m putting too much thought into this, Peter thinks.

    “You are,” Ned butts in, while going over his chemistry homework. Peter’s face blushes in embarrassment, but after being friends with Ned for years, it’s nothing he isn’t used to.

    Did I say that out loud? Peter ponders.

    “Yes, dumbass,” Ned retorts, just making Peter’s face even closer to the color of the strawberries that Ned’s eating, and though their juices are getting all over his paper, he seems to have no care in the world. 

    “Well, if you’re gonna make comments like that, at least say something useful,” Peter adds. “Tell me what to fucking wear.”

    Ned turns around in his desk chair, before licking his fingers and delighting at the taste of the fresh strawberries that Betty gifted him earlier. Peter always refers to her as Ned’s girlfriend, but Ned always feels the need to clarify that “girlfriend” is too casual a word to use in reference to Betty, who Ned often refers to as his “fierce lioness who exhibits only radiance, intelligence, and beauty, while simultaneously being the most down-to-earth and humbling creature to ever walk the earth.”

    “Why don’t you just wear jeans and a flannel like you usually wear?” Ned asks, making Peter realize that today is just one of those days where Ned’s decided that he’d prefer to get this conversation over with more than actually help Peter in his dilemma.

    “Because, what if I get there, and all of them—Morgan included—are wearing these dresses and I look like the homeless kid they brought in off the street?”

    “Well, first off, I’m pretty sure the once-owned-by-Tony-Stark-ten-thousand-dollar-watch you’re wearing that Pepper gave you would prevent anyone from thinking you’re homeless,” Ned starts, making Peter squint. “And, also, I think we both know that Y/N will most definitely not look… well, more put-together than you.”

    Peter’s eyes widen at Ned’s accurate, but distasteful comment. “Ned!” he shouts.

    “What? We know it’s true. Her outfit might be worth more than all of your clothes put together, but it’ll also be on top of her body that’s probably 30% cheap vodka.”

    Peter avoids commenting.

    “Oh, come on, you’re gonna tell me you haven’t been reading any of the headlines?” Ned goads.

    Peter’s blush returns when he realizes that Ned is unfortunately all-too-knowledgeable about Peter’s not-so-discreet lurking.

    “I don’t wanna talk about it, Ned,” Peter says, firmly, making Ned shut up. 

    It’s not often that Peter uses such a serious tone with his longtime friend, but when he does, Ned knows to stop. That doesn’t mean Ned wants to end the conversation, but he also knows that Peter has boundaries, and that he needs to respect them, even if he thinks what he has to say might be better for Peter in the long run.

    And it works in the reverse, too. Ned’s not known for being serious; if anything, it’s one of his greatest traits and yet one of his frequently-annoying flaws. However, on that rare occasion where Ned’s face is void of a smile or frown or some show of emotion, Peter knows to back away.

    It’s something that comes with years of friendship, especially one with as many ups and downs as Peter and Ned have had. There’s a depth of understanding there that’s hard to replicate, and each knows that while they’ll see new friendships begin and end throughout their lives, there’s no one that could even come close to being the friend that Peter and Ned are to each other. 

    After a few minutes of silence, Ned finally says, “Go with the white button-up, Pete. And a pair of jeans—the nice ones that May bought you, not one of the pairs you went dumpster-diving for because you spent all your money on Star Wars action figures.”

    Peter agrees with his suggestion, but scoffs as he gets the clothes out of the closet. “I was a child then, Ned. And, I’m pretty sure you enjoyed those as much as I did.”

    “We were seventeen, and after Betty and I got together, I gave them up. Once you’ve felt true love in all its glory, you’ll understand what I mean, and you’ll give up the figurines, too.”

    Peter rolls his eyes. He wants to disagree with Ned, but unfortunately, he’s right. Sure, Peter had his infatuation with Liz in freshman year of high school before he, well, sent her father to prison, and then his romance with MJ that was really more awkward and uncomfortable than it was cute and loving. He did lose his virginity to the girl, but Peter would prefer to not think about that experience. And then there’s, well, you—and you crushed all hopes of the two of you possibly having a romantic future when you abandoned him a week after your father died.

    But he’s never been in love. He’s never had something like what his parents apparently had. He’s never experienced the pure comfort that he saw between May and Ben. He’s never felt something quite as chaotic and yet perfect as Pepper and Tony. And he’s never felt the simplicity of May’s weird connection with Happy. Simply put, he doesn’t have any personal experience with any of the feelings from any of the adult relationships he’s gotten the chance to witness throughout his life.

    Though the rational part of him knows that he hasn’t been a legal adult for that long, and that he has plenty of time to find someone, there’s a deep fear buried in him that he’s unlovable. 

    It’s the fear that he’ll be lucky enough to meet someone who falls in love with Peter Parker, but can’t fall in love with Spiderman. What happens when he tells a girl about his other life? Does she get scared of him and run away, or does she not care and eventually fall into danger because of him?

    Peter could never forgive himself for that.

    And that’s all in addition to the fact that you abandoning him basically reaffirmed his insecurity that he’ll never be enough for someone.

    So, yeah, Peter’s never felt that optimistic about his love life.

    ☆。*。☆。

    As Peter drives in May’s old sedan up to the Stark cabin, it begins to pour—because of course it does. And though he’s been trying to ward off old memories by blaring whatever crap music is playing on the radio, the rain reminds him of one of your first memories together on a similarly rainy day, back at the Avengers Compound.

    He remembers how much he loved visiting the Compound, and how lucky he felt when Tony gave him a room to stay in whenever he visited, especially on weekends or over the summer. He felt so special, and it was such a unique feeling. Though he’d been gifted his spider powers at quite a young age, he never felt special as Peter Parker, and every time Tony showed pride in his talents as Peter and not Spiderman, he was elated.

    It was a late night at the Compound in July, and it’d been a hot summer—so hot, in fact, that Tony and Pepper had decided to spend a few weeks on vacation, leaving you here, under the supervision of various Avengers.

    And while he has no malice to Tony for doing so, as he couldn’t understand why someone as privileged as you could be so miserable, he can’t help but feel his heart slowly breaking at the sight of you, at fourteen years old, sitting on the edge of the covered driveway, just staring out at...nothing.

    He’s concerned, and though he doesn’t know why he is, he decides to take the walk downstairs. After opening the door, he carefully makes his way to where you’re sitting, as to avoid spooking you.

    And though his senses probably should’ve picked up on it, he’s still shocked to see someone his age smoking a cigarette.

    But before he gets the chance to say anything, you speak for him. “What are you gonna do, Parker? Tell me that I shouldn’t be doing this? You have no authority here, Webs.”

    He pouts at the nickname. “I feel like you could come up with a better nickname than that, Baby Fe,” he says, making you roll your eyes.

    Soon after meeting, Peter thought he was the most clever person in the world for calling you “Baby Fe,” since “Fe” is the atomic symbol for iron. You thought it was cheesy, but you never actually objected to it. 

    Nonetheless, he’s more concerned with the fact that you’re a teenager—barely—and smoking. “I mean...Would I be wrong to tell you that you shouldn’t be smoking?” he asks, before carefully sitting down on your left, leaving only a foot between you. 

    And, shockingly, you don’t make some sarcastic retort. In fact, he sees your body deflate, and not just because you rub the cigarette out on the pavement. 

    When you turn to look at him, he can see the few tears that you’ve shed since being here, and he’s a bit taken aback. He’s never seen you like this before. Or, at least, you’ve never allowed him to see you like this.

    And he has no idea how to respond.

    “My dad knows I smoke, Parker,” you say, before turning your head back to face the landscape.

    Peter has to admit he’s shocked by this. Tony always seems like the perfect dad. The perfect father figure. He’s never seen his flaws. Obviously, he knows he must have them, and he knows about the not-so-great years of his past, but it’s hard for him to process that today’s Tony Stark lets his barely-teenager-daughter smoke. 

    Peter shakes his head at the memory. No, Mr. Stark’s gone...Thinking of his flaws is disrespectful.

    “Fuck this,” he says, before pulling into the cabin’s driveway.

    As he opens the car door and scolds himself for forgetting his umbrella, he makes a dash for the porch. He’s about to raise his hand to knock, until he remembers that he’s never been here before.

    All of the previous dinners had been at Stark Tower, but since you’re back for the first time in a while, Pepper decided to have it at the cabin, away from prying eyes—and, well, everything.

    He remembers how Tony vaguely spoke of building a home for Pepper—and you, of course—outside of the city, and somewhat distanced from the Avengers Compound.

    Peter places his damp hands along the railing, and looks out at the scene before him. It’s a bit bland for Tony, but that makes sense to Peter. If Tony wanted something so different from his city life and his life as Iron Man, then it makes sense that there’s no extravagance. It simply looks like a home, a home built for a family—not just a home built for a billionaire.

    Though he soon realizes that there’s no other homes in sight, and that Tony probably bought the whole fucking lake, and he chuckles to himself. 

    Well, it’s still a Tony Stark cabin, he thinks.

    “Hey, Peter!” he hears a faint voice speak, making him spin.

    Fuck, I’ve gotta stop saying what I’m actually thinking, he reminds himself.

    “Mommy said I’m not supposed to say that word,” Morgan remarks, before hopping up onto the bench and dangling her small feet off the end.

    “Mommy’s right, Baby Stark,” he says, before sitting down on the bench next to her. She pouts at the nickname, but doesn’t argue with him, making him chuckle. “What are you doing out here?”

    “I saw you through the window, and Mommy’s busy,” she explains.

    “And… she’s not here yet?” Peter asks, treading around your name.

    “Who?” 

    Peter groans internally, realizing that even though Morgan Stark is smarter than any six-year-old he’s ever met, she’s still, well, six years old. “Your sister,” he lets out, still refusing to use your name.

    “No,” Morgan pouts, and the sadness in her eyes definitely doesn’t diminish his negative feelings for you. “She’s never been like this before,” Morgan adds, confusing Peter, because Morgan was only born during the years of the Blip, when you and him were both… gone. When would Morgan and you have spent any time together?

    “What do you mean?” he asks, scooting closer to Morgan, and letting her squish into his side.

    “When she was at the school in Switz… Swiss… Land… Hmm, I forget the name of the place, but when she was there, she always called me on Mommy’s phone in the morning. And over the summer, we went to stay at this fancy home in some place called Italy, and she always spent time with me there,” Morgan explains, with a distant look on her face. Though, her face soon goes confused, and she pokes his chest and asks, “how do you know Y/N?”

    “You’re very perceptive, Morgan,” he chuckles out. “Um… We used to be… friends.”

    “You did? What kind of friends? Did you play on the swings together?”

    “Um… Yeah. I guess you could say that.”

    She gasps, and then puts her hands over her mouth. “Oh, were you the kind of friends that used to… kiss each other on the lips?”

    Peter, flustered by Morgan’s very unexpected question, quickly denies it. “No, no, no! We were… normal friends.”

    The two sit in silence for a bit longer, until Peter checks his watch. “Come on, kiddo. We should go inside.”

    She nods, before standing up on the bench, and reaching her arms up, making Peter chuckle. Instead of pulling her up by the waist, though, he flings her over his shoulder, and she squeals in response. 

    Peter opens the door, kicks off his shoes in the entrance, and then makes his way to the bottom of the stairwell. “Pepper, I found a little monster wandering around outside!” he belts out, playfully.

    Morgan’s still chuckling, though now the little rascal has climbed her way onto Peter’s shoulders, playing with his hair.

    Eventually, Pepper walks downstairs, and smiles at the sight before her. “Hello, Peter,” she greets, and manages to give him a small hug, though it’s a tad awkward given the kicking child on his shoulders.

    They let go, and Peter puts Morgan down, ignoring her huffs. Thankfully, as the child she is, her attention span is short, and she makes her way to the couch, beginning to play with one of her many dolls.

    “Do you need any help with dinner, Pep?” he asks, trying to be a tad helpful.

    “Ooh, do you mind setting the table?” she asks, and Peter agrees.

    After he sets the third spot, though, he pauses, and looks across at Pepper in the kitchen, whom he finds already looking back at him. And their minds are both on the same thing; they’re just waiting to see who will bring it up first. 

    “Should I, uh...”

    Peter gestures to the last placemat, hesitating to put the plate in its seat. 

    It takes more energy than she’d like, but Pepper nods, smiling through the uneasiness. “She’ll be here… eventually.”

    ☆。*。☆。

    Though Pepper’s been waiting for you to start dinner, Peter gets the sense that she’s lost hope in you showing up, and that you being ridiculously late is not so out of the ordinary. Eventually, he convinces Pepper to start dinner, and things go somewhat smoothly from there.

    The conversation is calm, and Pepper and Peter update each other on their lives, with Morgan interrupting with her own stories. Laughs are shared, and though there’s an empty place setting that occupies their thoughts, the normalcy of the conversation helps to keep it at the back of their minds. 

    Peter willingly shares how college has been so far, making sure to highlight the pleasant instances more than any lingering negative sentiments he’s holding onto. He fills Pepper in on Ned and Betty’s adorable yet extremely annoying romance, and he updates her on how May’s doing, to which Pepper responds by informing him that she’s going to ask May for some help with charity organizations. It took a while for Pepper to start delegating various parts of Stark Industries and his estate after Tony’s death, but now that she’s ready for it, she hopes to involve May—who dedicates her livelihood to charities in the Queens area—in deciding what charities need the most help and how Stark Industries can make the biggest difference. 

    It’s a bit weird for Peter to see just how interconnected his life has become with Tony after his death, but he doesn’t mind, and there’s something immensely heartwarming in the idea that May—the biggest maternal influence in his life—is developing a friendship with Pepper.

    They eventually move on to discussing May and Happy’s romance, in which Peter plays the part of concerned, disgusted, and overprotective nephew, though both Pepper and Peter know that he’s truly happy that his aunt’s found happiness after Uncle Ben, and with someone Peter can trust. If there’s one man who Peter was closest to besides Tony after Ben’s death, it was most definitely Happy, and it delights Peter to see him bring his aunt happiness. 

    As most of these dinners go, the conversation is generally light, but intense emotion is there. ANd though Peter tries to avoid deep emotional sentiment in every part of his life these days, for some reason, it’s easy for him to abandon that firmness during his times with Pepper and Morgan. In other parts of his life, he has to escape emotional attachment, but here, there’s nowhere to escape to.

    Eventually, though, Morgan gets antsy, and it’s nearly her bedtime. They’ve tried to eat dinner as long as they can, and it’s clear that you’re not coming anytime soon, and if you are coming anytime soon, they simply don’t believe it.

    Peter lets Pepper know that he’ll take care of the dishes, and Pepper gives him a grateful hug in response.

    After putting Morgan to bed, and after Peter does the dishes, they meet again in the living room, and Peter can tell that Morgan’s not the only tired person in the house.

    “I’ll wait for her,” he says. And even though he tries to hide his hesitancy, he knows he’s not the most convincing. 

    Pepper’s clearly hesitant, too. “Are you sure? I know that you two haven’t spoken in quite a long time, and I can’t imagine that’s been easy for you. I remember how close you were before—well, you know—and how crushed she was to leave you. But, in her mind, it was the right decision, and I hope you can understand that, at least a little bit.”

    Peter’s lips draw into a line, and he tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I won’t lie to you, Pep—you deserve better than that. I don’t have many… fond thoughts of her these days. But, if it hurt her so much to go, then why did she? Was it something I did? Something I said? I just—”

    Shaking her head, Pepper interrupts. “She had her reasons, Peter. And while I know the gist of them, they’re also not mine to tell. But I truly, truly hope that you can at least try to be a bit patient with her,” she pleads, and Peter gives her a slight nod. “Alright, well, I’m heading upstairs. If she doesn’t show up, there are two guest rooms that you’re free to crash in, or you can take the sofa. Please don’t drive back so late.”

    “You’ve got it. Good night, Pep.”

    “Good night, Pete,” she says, before continuing up the stairs.

    ☆。*。☆。

    Peter doesn’t know how long he waits in the living room for you. All he knows is that it’s now well-past one o’clock in the morning, and that whatever reruns he’s watching on the television are all morphing into the same damn thing. 

    He’s about to go upstairs and turn in for the night, before he hears yelling outside, muffled by the rain. 

    He really hopes he only hears it because of his senses, and that it won’t wake up Pepper and Morgan.

    Peter opens the window curtain in the dining room, and is faced with the sight of an expensive car that he doesn’t know the name of skidding off, and you, in a tight black dress, soaked with rainwater, clammering up the front steps… or at least trying to.

    He hates that he worries for you, when all you’ve done tonight is disappoint your family (and him, though he would never admit that), but he’s trying to be considerate.

    Or, as May always tells him, “be generous.”

    He’s never really sure what she means by that, but part of him thinks it’s applicable to this situation.

    He opens the door at the same time that you make it to the porch, and it seems that you haven’t even noticed his presence as you practically fall onto one of the benches.

    Carefully, he walks towards you, and as he does, he can now make out what the rain had previously masked—at least somewhat.

    Your eyes are almost shut, and your eye makeup—it might be mascara, but Peter’s never been one to know much about the things women put on their faces—leaves dark trails down your cheeks. Your hair is a mess—there’s no nicer way to put it. And he’s fairly convinced that there’s a rip towards the center of the very short skirt of your dress that wasn’t there when you purchased the item.

    And, to make matters worse, if he looks closely, he’s pretty sure that the rip in the dress gives him an indirect view of the hot pink thong you’re wearing under it.

    If Ned were here, he’d probably say something like, “hey, at least she’s wearing underwear,” Peter thinks.

    “I’m not that stupid,” he hears you say, and Peter scolds himself for again saying what he means to be thinking.

    Peter honestly doesn’t know what else to say, though, so he waits for you to continue talking, which you do.

    “Why are you here?” you rasp out. Clearly, your voice is drained by whatever you’ve done tonight, whether it be drinking loads of alcohol, engaging in a lot of screaming, using whatever smoking device Peter’s not familiar with but is probably all over his college campus, and, well, sucking dick.

    “Pepper invited me over for dinner tonight with her, Morgan, and, well, you,” Peter says, before taking a seat next to you on the bench, though keeping his distance.

    The two of you sit out there for a few minutes, simply staring at the rainy landscape before you. Frankly, Peter’s a bit stunned. The event of meeting you again had crossed his mind countless times over the last few years, and though it feels like he’s gone through every possibility in his mind, this feels like the one he never thought about.

    He never thought he’d meet you at a place in your life where you’ve hit rock bottom. It’s harsh, but that doesn’t make it any less true. And, to be completely honest, Peter’s hit rock bottom, also… he’s just a tad better at hiding it.

    The entire truth is that the outside world sees your life as a mess and sees you as a girl who had everything going for her, who then went rogue after her father died. You’ve made mistake after mistake after mistake, to the point where people no longer believe that they’re mistakes. They’re no longer oddities—they’re you. 

    Peter, on the other hand, doesn’t have as many people looking at him. He’s just an average college student, and everything that makes him a special guy is exactly what he hides from the world.

    However, none of that means he hasn’t had his own troubles. While you’re dealing with your problems in an unhealthy way, you’re at least acknowledging their existence. You’re in pain, and you’re not denying that. Sure, your habits of dealing with grief are worrisome, but you at least have them. Peter doesn’t, because it’s difficult to try and manage your troubles when you refuse to acknowledge that they exist in the first place—and, even if Peter’s acknowledging his issues to some extent, he’s minimizing them. After he stopped trying to make contact with you, he just acted like his problems didn’t exist.

    And maybe it’s fucked up, but to Peter, there’s something brave in what you’re doing. You aren’t shying away from anything—well, except admitting that you’re only developing bad habits to cover your real issues. At least from a distance, it seems to Peter that you’ve accepted that your life has been fucked up one too many times. While Peter, in his mind, acts like a coward, refusing to accept that his wounds exist just so that he doesn’t have to embark on the process of healing them.

    Peter can be quite a philosophical guy when he wants to—especially in the most awkward scenarios. However, your teeth-chattering has just become fundamentally nauseating to Peter and his senses. “Let’s go inside.”

    You want to argue with him, but Peter’s grateful that you don’t, and he opens the door to the cabin. You struggle to slip off your heels, and Peter has to bite back a chuckle at the scene. 

    “Don’t laugh,” you growl, before stumbling on your bare feet over to the couch, and plopping down headfirst.

    “Don’t you think you should sleep in your bedroom?” 

    Since “nnnnnngh,” is the only response you give, Peter sits on the chair next to you, and begins to tap his hands on his thighs in boredom.

    Your face shifts so that you can see Peter out of the corner of your eye, before you twist to lay on your side, groaning in the process.

    “What are you doing?” you ask.

    “Sitting.”

    “Yeah, I know that, dipshit. Why?”

    “Pepper entrusted me to watch over you and make sure you got home safe, so that’s what I’m doing.”

    “Well, I’m here, and I’m home safe. You can leave now.”

    Peter squints, and while he’d love to leave and miss interacting with your extremely shitty and spoiled attitude, he reminds himself that he’s doing it for Pepper, and not for you. And at least there’s a solid chance that you won’t remember any of this tomorrow—well, actually, later today. 

    “No.”

    You just groan again in response, before getting up way too quickly that Peter has to sprint over to you to prevent you from falling. If it weren’t for his spidey senses, he would’ve missed you entirely and you’d have definitely cracked your head open against the coffee table.

    However, he’s surprised when you don’t make an annoying retort, until he realizes that you’ve completely knocked out in his arms.

    Of fucking course.

    Securing you tightly, he makes his way up the stairs, walking quietly as to not wake up Pepper or Morgan. 

    Luckily, the door to your room is marked with a small paper sign—clearly decorated by Morgan—that reads “Best Big Sis Ever.” Peter wants to frown at the sight, since he knows that there’s probably no way that you’ve actually proven to be the “Best Big Sis Ever” to Morgan, but his smile betrays him. 

    He uses his foot to quietly knock the door open, which is fortunately unlocked, and then plops you on the queen-sized bed, and ponders what to do next.

    Should he just leave and head for the guest room?

    Should he wipe your makeup off and dress you into some comfier clothes?

    Should he set a garbage can next to you for when you inevitably start retching in the morning?

    To be completely honest, he doesn’t want to do any of the above, and his tiredness is starting to get to him, but he tries to “be generous”, as May says.

    May’s words and Peter’s refusal to break promises eat away at him, and he decides to at least lay out some comfier clothes for you.

    Letting out a huff, he turns around, faced with your dresser, and opens up the top drawers, which, much to his annoyance, are full of bras and thongs. The act, though, of opening your dresser, is eerie. Before the Blip, the two of you had become accustomed to sleepovers and doing everything together, and now it feels so ghost-like. Though he’s done this with you before—in some fashion or another—it almost feels disgraceful to those old memories to associate them with the messiness that is this current moment.

    Nonetheless, he’s grateful at the sight of pajamas. Phew, he thinks, but when he hears you mumble something in your sleep, he realizes he’s done that stupid thing again.

    Not trying to be too invasive, he just grabs the first shirt on top—one of your dad’s old band shirts—and lays it at the foot of the bed next to your bare feet. 

    And while you might be one of those girls who sleeps in their underwear, he feels like getting a pair of underwear for you would definitely be crossing a line. 

    So, instead, he grabs what he assumes to be old pajama shorts, and quietly shuts the drawer.

    Realizing he’ll have to wake the beast to at least do this semi-respectfully, he walks over to you, poking you gently on the forehead. 

    Unfortunately, all you do is let out a bit of gibberish, so he taps you a few times on the shoulder, hoping that’ll do it. 

    Thankfully, your eyes blink open, and they go wide when they recognize someone else’s presence. “What the—”

    Peter quickly stops your outburst by shoving his hand against your mouth, and when you realize that he’s not a murderer and then remember the events that happened not so long ago, you calm down. Peter removes his hand from your mouth, and then wipes off the drool on his jeans.

    “Uh...I got you a pair of shorts and, uh, a shirt.”

    You don’t seem grateful, though, because you frown at him in disgust. “You went through my underwear drawer?!” you whisper-yell.

    “I wasn’t being creepy!” he defends, matching your tone of voice.

    “That’s such a perv-y thing to do, you… perv!” you remark, wincing at your lack of a witty nickname in your post-drunk state. 

    “Clever,” Peter retorts, rolling his eyes.

    You huff in annoyance. “Whatever. Just… turn around, please.”

    Peter gives you a look as if to say “obviously”, and turns around, leaving you to change.

    However, you clearly overestimated your sobriety, as getting out of your dress proves to be a nightmare, which Peter notices by your endless groans, huffs, and stammers. At this point, he decides that he’s just waiting for you to ask for his help.

    He taps his foot on the floor, and once you notice it, you concede. “Whatever. Just help me, dipshit.”

    He stops tapping his foot, but refuses to turn around.

    “Oh my God, seriously? Fine, whatever. Please help me with my clothes, dipshit.”

    Deciding that that’s probably the best he’ll get from you, he turns around, and has to stop himself from admiring how cute you look, with your head lost in your dress and your body contorted in a way that he can’t possibly understand.

    “Alright, uh… Hmm. Ahh, here.” He walks closer to you, and notices that the rip previously in the center of your dress is now on the side.

    “Do you mind if I just… rip it?”

    “Hey, I like this dress!” you object.

    “Oh, come on, this can’t be the only little black dress you have. And besides, it’s already ripped… and covered in a mixture of liquids that I really don’t want to know the makeup of.”

    You give in, and let out a “fine,” and Peter turns to your side, before simply ripping the dress in half. 

    When it falls to the ground, Peter’s eyes go wide, and the two of you make immediate eye contact, though that doesn’t mean Peter can’t see all of your practically-naked form.

    It takes a few seconds for the two of you to react to the situation, and Peter turns around.

    You struggle to unclip your bra in your state, and eventually decide to just take it off the way you would a shirt, before flinging it in at least the direction of your hamper. 

    You then take off your thong, flinging it in the direction of the trash can, because after last night’s events, you’re pretty sure a quick wash won’t get the dirt, grime, and other… substances out of it.

    As Peter continues to stand in front of your dresser, staring out the window, you slip on your dad’s old band shirt, and the pair of pajama shorts, though, given your state, it takes a bit longer than it usually would.

    “Done,” you announce to Peter, and he turns around, gulping at the sight before him.

    “What?” you ask, with a nervousness he didn’t expect to see in you.

    “It’s just… well. You… look like him,” Peter vocalizes, before he can even think of what he’s said. And, while that’s not shocking, the sight of an older you, in your father’s old shirt, almost gives him whiplash. Not only do you remind him of your father and all that he was, but you remind him of the sight of that sad fourteen-year-old girl who used to be his best friend smoking in the Compound driveway. 

    You’re older and more woman than girl now, of course, but there’s an innocence that he sees in you now that he’d forgotten, or maybe just pushed to the side. Or maybe he didn’t notice it because he used to have that same innocence in him. It’s not necessarily an innocence in attitude or pattern, but it’s a reminder that, no matter how you’re seen by the rest of the world, you’re still human. And while most people got to come back and got to see their loved ones come back, you didn’t. The man who the world views as a hero was still your father, and though everyone else gets to love and reminisce in the effects of his actions, you don’t. The world lost a hero but gained everyone, while you just… lost your dad.

    It’s a dark thought, but it makes him sympathize with you, and with everything you’ve done. And something about that’s even more infuriating. He should hate you—for fuck’s sake, he’s been trying to convince himself and everyone around him that he hates you for the past year and a half. 

    It’s not until you walk to the bathroom that he gets out of the daze.

    He stands there for a few more minutes, while you do...whatever you need to do in the bathroom. Eventually, he hears the toilet flush and the sink run, and you walk out, now with a makeup-free face and hair a tad less unkempt.

    You stare at him, waiting for him to leave, but it takes a bit for him to understand. “Oh, uh, Pepper said I could take one of the guest rooms… Uh, which one should I take?”

    “Doesn’t matter, but there’s one to the left of the stairwell.”

    As he walks to the door, you get into bed, and as he’s about to leave, he stops.

    “What, Peter?” you ask, no malice in your voice, just a very clear need of sleep.

    “Uh, nothing. Good night… Oh, wait!”

    You give him a confused look, but smile just a bit when he reaches for your trash can, picking it up by the end that your pink thong isn’t hanging off of.

    He places it by your bedside, and you can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed at the sight of the pair of underwear, so you quickly knock it into the bin.

    “Thanks, Pete.”

    “Uh, no problem.”

    You settle back into your covers. “Good night, Y/N.”

    “Good night, Peter.”

    ☆。*。☆。

    so...what’d y’all think? did you like it? do you have questions? do you have predictions? please let me know via ask or comment/reblog! i’d love to know. do you have suggestions? feel free to send them in! thank you for reading, and i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did writing it <3

    #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker smut #peter parker series #peter parker x stark!reader #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #tom holland series #*anchor#chapter 1
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  • underappreciatedsterek
    07.05.2021 - 10 minutes ago

    Circle me (If my heart was a home) by kat_fanfic // 1.4k // General

    It's the little things that tip Stiles off.

    Note: Stiles starts to realise that maaybe someone else has been secretly living in the Stilinksi household. Derek deserves all the nice things.

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    Headlights by TheSongofPatroclus

    #eternalsterek#rating: g#universe: canon#werewolf derek#human stiles #setting: beacon hills #fluff #word count: under 5k #pre slash#pov: stiles #char: just sterek #site: ao3 #kudos: under 400
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  • imaginedreamwrite
    07.05.2021 - 10 minutes ago

    Everything Has Changed: Part 13

    Days spent in the state of the art lab preparing for the first attempts at the experimental synthesis of medication and DNA modifications that would ignite those receptors that drew omega’s to alpha’s and vice versa. It was the first day of the experiment and the entire lab was buzzing with excitement and hopefulness that this would further limit the repercussions of the Snap and Blip.

    With the volunteers already checked into the lab, you were in the midst of preparing for your part in the experiment, when the approach of Dr. Banner had stopped you in your tracks.

    On his approach, your stomach tightened as you recognized the face of bad news. You didn’t know what he was going to tell you or what would become of the rest of your day, but you knew that something was going to change.

    You could feel it in your bones, you could see it clearly in his eyes and the way he carried himself that there was something unspoken that was bothering him.

    You moved away from the core of the lab toward the far left side that was much quieter and would allow for a hushed conversation. When you came to stand in front of him, you shoved your hands into your lab coat pockets, fiddling with the pen to keep your nerves at a low.

    “Dr. Banner, what’s the bad news?” You asked even if you didn’t want to. If you could’ve remained ignorant, you would have. However whether you wanted to know or not, Dr. Banner would tell you.

    “Y/N,” he crossed his arms over his chest, hesitating to speak, “I know that you’ve spent countless hours preparing for the launch of this procedure-“

    “-but…?” You felt the preemptive sting of tears.

    “You can’t be a part of the experiment itself. The conditions to be part of the actual testing of the procedure are very clear-“

    “What did I do wrong?” Tears blurred your vision, the airy gasps that left your mouth were the tip of the emotional iceberg.

    “Nothing, Y/N. You did nothing wrong. You’re brilliant and talented, however the conditions do not allow pregnant women to partake in the procedure.”

    “Pregnant?” Your eyebrows furrowed and you wrapped your arms around yourself. “I’m not pregnant…”

    “I had to do a final test on the blood we’d taken and on every sample you’d given us to confirm your readiness. When I test your sampled and your blood, I got the confirmations.”

    To prove the point he was trying to make, Dr. Banner handed you the tablet in his hands with all the data already loaded snd ready for you to see. On the tablet screen was the clear image of your hormone levels that has shifted as well as the sharp spike in estrogen and progesterone that proved not only were you pregnant, but the levels in which they’d increased had opened the possibility up to their being more than one baby.

    “There’s no symptoms.”

    “You know as well as I do the symptoms of pregnancy’s may not show up within the first month. Based on the hormone levels, I’d say you’re just under a month.” Dr. Banner placed his hand on your shoulder snd squeezed.

    “I’m sorry, Y/N. But in my good conscience I can’t allow you to be one of the constant’s in the experiment. You can still run the trial and head it up if you would wish, however being part of it is no longer an option.”

    “Pregnant.” You stared at the tablet while mentally being a mile away.

    Kids. You’d always wanted kids, but later on in your life. You were only 22 and you’d just started your career.

    You heard Dr. Banner speak yet you couldn’t take your attention off the numbers on the screen. You couldn’t take your eyes off the hormone spikes and the clear data that damned you from your own trial.

    “You should tell Steve and Bucky-“

    “Excuse me.” You handed the tablet back to him, more like shoved it into his arms, and pushed past him.

    “Y/N, talk to Steve and Bucky. Tell them before you-“

    “I need air. I need-“ you slipped your lab coat off and tossed it toward a desk chair. Before it could even land on the chair, you were headed toward the door of the lab. You placed your hand against the biometric lock and wait the half second as it scanned your DNA before it let you out. You slipped through the door and moved in a haze, completing everything action that would take you from the lab, to the elevator and then to the lobby of Stark Tower. You moved by autonomy, while your head was reeling and you were consumed by a constant barrage of questions aimed at yourself and your situation.

    “Y/N!” Your name was called but you kept moving. “Y/N, stop!”

    You kept moving until you collided with a body made of muscle snd strength. After colliding with the body, you craned your neck and studied the man hovering over you, relief and insignificant anguish at the pair of blue eyes watching you.

    His brown hair, thick and luscious, was cut short. It was a new look for him after having his longer hair for a while. He was clean shaven too, it looked as fresh as his haircut. His blue eyes were caught between concern and caution, his hands reaching out to grab your arms.

    He was your alpha, you should find comfort in his touch and yet…

    “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He was holding your arms in gentle grasps. “You didn’t hear me calling your name. What’s wrong?”

    Pregnant. You were pregnant.

    “I need air. I need to get out of here. I need…” Your eyes dart around the lobby of Stark tower, your stomach churning the burning acid inside.

    “You’re okay.” Bucky cupped your cheeks. “You’re going to be okay just-“

    “No!” You slapped his hands away. “No im not going to be okay! I’m not okay! I need air!”

    “You’re having a panic attack,” he reached for you again, “let me help you.”

    You stepped back, your eyes widening as the sting of bile rose in your throat. The word PREGNANT has been at the forefront of your mind, repeating on a record.

    You wanted kids, but not yet. You’d worked so hard to get where you are now.

    “Baby please-“

    You were going to be sick. You couldn’t breathe and you were going to be sick. You felt the bile rise in your throat, the stinging acid that burned as it crawled, the fresh wave of bushes tears making it hard to see as you nearly collapsed from the shock of what had just conspired.

    “Are you okay?” Bucky was on you in an instant, an arm wrapped around your waist to steady you. “You’re flush.”

    “I need air…” You mumbled under your breath, settling into a panic attack that was sever enough to induce nausea.

    “Let me help you upstairs, doll.” Bucky started to help you stand and while his touch was comfortable, it was almost smothering.

    His presence as an alpha gave you comfort you knew you needed yet it had also made you feel as if your breathing was even more restricted than it had been. It made you feel as though you were truly gasping for air.

    “No!” You pushed him off of you with unknown strength. “No! I need air! I need to be alone!”

    You rebuffed him and ran with all you had in you to the exit. You burst through the doors of Stark tower and pressed on even further. You ran until your lungs were burning and your heart was beating like a war drum in your chest and when you finally stopped, you sunk.

    You sunk to your knees and wrapped your arms around yourself as you cried, as you screamed your frustrations.

    You wanted to be a mother and you wanted your career.

    You wanted a baby and you wanted your own mother back.

    You wanted a family with Steve and Bucky, and you wanted to see the fruits of your years of hard work.

    You cried until you couldn’t anymore. You cried until your voice was horse and your eyes were puffy.

    You don’t know how long you were out there, wherever you were. You didn’t know how long you’d spent curled into yourself, crying until your voice was weak. You’d spent your energy running from your anxieties, running from the news that flipped your world upside down.

    “It’s okay.” Steve’s voice hit your ears, the suffocating comfort was replaced with gentility. “You’re okay, doll.”

    He came to your side and held you, he came to your side and embraced you as you broke down in his arms. You clung to him with as much might as you could gather, silently accepting the shift in comfort as he pulled you into his lap in whatever alley or on whatever street you’d found yourself on.

    “You’re going to be okay, sweetheart.” Steve mumbled into your hair, he pressed his lips against the side of your forehead and soothes you with the gentle rocking of his body. “Let me take you home. Please.”

    “Take me home.” You went lax in his arms, knowing that you had a lot more processing to go through but it would be better to do it in the comfort of their presence, with them being part of the conversation.

    ** **

    Permanent Tags List: @jennmurawski13 @emogrils @swoopswishsward @marvelsangels @beardburnsupersoldiers @rvgrsbrns @captainchrisstan @stareyedplanet @fandom-basurero @awesomerextyphoon @chrisjaay @glimmering-darling-dolly @xbuckxnastyx @daydreaminginthechaos @psychiccreationtaco @rayofdawnworld @teller258316 @connie326 @asgardlover75 @ba-arish @socalgem1124 @nervousfandom @dont-cry-babydoll @call-me-baby-gir1 @sleep-i-ness @alexa-lightwood-blog @tenaciousperfectionunknown @archy3001 @rebekahdawkins @supraveng @muralskins @megamieversole-blog @buckysgirl101 @xxchexchickxx @bookfrog242 @belovedcherry @thefridgeismybestie @bibliophilewednesday @old-enough-to-know-better73 @hoe-for-sukusa @linniep @jessyballet @lunarmoon8 @darlingkeiji @hotti3lamotti3 @valsworldofcreativity @thisuserlovesyouandyouandyou @otherglowcloud @loveitorleaveit20 @jemimah-b99

    #alpha!Steve Rogers x parker!reader x alpha!Bucky Barnes #alpha!stucky x parker!reader #alpha!Stucky x reader #alph!Steve Rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader imagines #bucky barnes imagines smut #bucky barnes imagines fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes imagine smut #steve rogers imagines #alpha steve rogers x parker!reader x alpha bucky barnes #alpha Bucky barnes x parker!reader x alpha Bucky barnes #everything has changed part 13 #everything has changed masterlist #everything has changed series
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  • writerofthelorde
    07.05.2021 - 10 minutes ago

    Wherever he goes, I go - The Mandalorian - Chapter sixteen (16)

    Characters: Din Djarin, Grogu, Greef, Cara, Luke & Leia

    Chapter wordcount: 5.252

    Total wordcount: 83.661

    Chapters: 16 out of unknown

    Story summary:

    Din is struggling with being alone. Grogu is struggling with missing his dad so much he’s making Luke’s life a living hell. There has to be a way for them to fix this, right? Maybe Din could just... join them?

    Chapter sixteen (16) summary:

    They arrive on Wrea and Din finally gets an impression of the place Grogu had been staying for the past few weeks. Din and Luke chat, Grogu does something cute and Din tries to work through some things.

    Link to the first chapter

    Link to the 16th chapter

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  • thisisapaige
    07.05.2021 - 10 minutes ago

    Dean found Cas in his garden. Cas sat in the middle of a patch of blue and pink flowers crossed-legged. There were grass stains on the knees of his jeans and dirt under his fingernails. He must have finished planting for the day. Pretty soon, Dean and Cas’s fridge would be filled with tomatoes and cucumbers and whatever else Cas decided Dean needed to eat. Cas insisted that Dean had to "consume" his vegetables, now that he was pushing fifty.

    The vegetables that came from Cas’s garden tasted better than anything else. Dean would eat them any day— a fact Cas took advantage of regularly. Dean didn’t mind at all. It meant Cas cared about him.

    Dean joined Cas in the patch of flowers, forcing his creaking knees to bend. He mirrored Cas’s pose, complete with tilting his head back towards the late afternoon sun. Dean closed his eyes and felt its gentle warmth. He breathed through his nose and smelled the fresh scent of spring flowers. The wind rustled through the tree leaves and birds tittered in the distance.

    It was nice and peaceful. Retiring from hunting and moving out to the country with Cas was the greatest decision Dean had ever made.

    “Nature is wonderful, don’t you think?” Cas asked.

    “This place isn’t too bad.” Dean opened his eyes and looked at Cas. “I like the view."

    A slight smile appeared on Cas’s lips. "Creation is beautiful.” Cas also opened his eyes, shining with truth when he started right at Dean. “The foremost example wakes up next to me every day."

    Dean blushed. He couldn’t help it. No matter how many times Cas said things like that— at least once a day since they got together— Dean’s heart fluttered like it was the first time.

    "Ugh, you sap.” Dean wrapped an arm around Cas’s shoulders and pulled him close. “C’mere.”

    “You love it.” Cas paused then added, quietly, like he still couldn’t believe it, “And me.”

    “Yeah.” Dean kissed Cas’s forehead. “I do.”

    #destiel#deancas#destiel fic#destiel ficlet#spncreatorsdaily#creativecaviar#shelikestv#destiel fluff#established destiel#post canon #let them be retired sappy old men #who love each other #i read so many gardener cas fics recently #so here is something short and sweet <3 #enjoy! #writing paige
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  • shuajeong
    07.05.2021 - 10 minutes ago

    Let’s love ♡

    6 - Spitting and choking

    synopsis: You lived your whole life thinking you were one or at least that’s what you were led to believe. You were told from a young age by your parents that your twin died at birth. What happens when you find out your twin is alive, brought up by your ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’. It becomes crazier when you could’ve met him any time due to your friend group. What about when your best friend’s friend otherwise known as jeonghan, enters your sight and you can’t get him to leave. Suddenly you have two important people to complete you...

    previous mlist next

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    tags:

    @wonunuu @mvltimoon @sunflowergyeomie @yaebbinnie @pooofthechicken @yyxyzti @magicalhannie @hanniewife @jeonjungkaka @love-svt @niikipuff @rjsmochii @lunatens @serenadesvt @minluvly @smileyjimvn @j1xsvt @bang-bang-bangtxn

    couldn’t tag @jedi-nightingale

    #seventeen sm au #jeonghan#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan imagines #seventeen x reader #jeonghan x reader #seventeen#seventeen imagines #svt sm au #seventeen texts#svt texts#seventeen au#jeonghan au#jeonghan texts #jeonghan sm au #seventeen fluff#jeonghan fluff#svt fluff#seventeen fic#jeonghan fic #seventeen social media au #svt social media au
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  • tarosin
    07.05.2021 - 11 minutes ago

    imagines/one shots i’m currently working :]

    requests:

    simp- dream x fem reader

    readers death - multiple

    *titles may change*

    last updated: 7th may

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  • uniquevocashark
    07.05.2021 - 13 minutes ago

    Thank you all so much!

    #personal #what should i do to celebrate this? #fluff perhaps 👀
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  • newstarlights
    07.05.2021 - 13 minutes ago

    Goodnight, Bud

    Summary: You're about to go to sleep with your husband after a tiring day when a guest opens your door, making late-night demands.

    Word Count: 605 words

    Pairing: Reader x Lee Jaehyun (Hyunjae) / Characters: Fem!Reader, Mom!Reader; Dad!Lee Jaehyun (Hyunjae); Lee Juntae (OC) {Age: 5};

    Rated: E / Warnings: None? / Genre: Fluff; Parent!AU;

    A/N: I tried to keep this GenderNeutral!Reader but I couldn't think of a good gender neutral name for the kid to call his parent so. Mom!Reader! I hope this was okay!!!

    "Goodnight, Juntae," you call into your son's bedroom from the doorway.

    "Goodnight!" your husband Jaehyun calls out after you.

    "Goo-nite mommy! Goo-nite daddy!" Juntae, your five year old son responds. You had tucked him in beneath his covers to keep him warm during the night, and he's beaming back at you from bed.

    You close the door so that it's open just a crack, and turn to Hyunjae.

    "Bedtime," you grumble, and he nods, following you to your bedroom, which is right next to Juntae's."I had a long day of work today. My coworker is a giant pain."

    "You've mentioned," Jaehyun says, chuckling a bit. He holds out his hand. "C'mon. Let's get to bed. 

    You smile at your husband and take his hand, letting him lead the way to bed.

    You both lay down beneath the covers, tucked in, all warm and comfortable. Your eyelids are heavy, and your body is so exhausted from work that you feel like you're going to fall through the bed and into dreamland. Just as you feel yourself drifting off, you hear the creaking sound of a door opening. You roll over, thinking it must be your imagination, but the sound of your son's voice loud and clear confirms that it is not, in fact, your imagination.

    "Um. Mommy? Daddy?"

    You lift your head and see your door wide open, and the faint silhouette of your son standing in the doorframe. "Yes, honey?" you grumble.

    Juntae sniffs, and mumbles. "Thirsty . . . can I have milk ple-ase?"

    You breathe out and let your head fall back.You're exhausted, and can barely keep your eyes open.

    "Juntae, baby, can you maybe wait until morning?" you ask, voice already groggy. "It's 8:30 PM, bedtime for you. And me."

    "B-b-but. Thirsty-y-y," you hear Juntae whine. He starts crying, wailing from the doorway, and your brain just about starts to wake up in panic when you hear a light thump! You blink and lift your head to see that Jaehyun has thrown the blanket off of himself, and has slid out of bed

    Quickly, he turns back to you and leans down. "Don't worry, love, I've got it. Stay in bed," he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You hum affectionately.

    "Thank you Jae," you mumble. You can't see it in the dark, but you know he's smiling back at you.

    You watch through half-lidded, sleepy eyes as Jaehyun's familiar silhouette approaches Juntae's in the doorway. "Alright, Juntae, I'll get you milk. You gotta be quiet, though, okay? Mommy's sleepy," Jaehyuan whispers. You smile contently as he closes the door slowly and quietly.

    You close your eyes, but don't fall asleep yet. Instead, you listen. You can hear Jaehyun stopping back at Juntae's door.

    "Alright, go to sleep now, okay? Mommy had a long day of work," you hear his voice say softly from the hallway.

    "Yes, Daddy," you hear Juntae say.

    "Okay. Goodnight, bud. Sleep."

    You hear Juntae's door creak, and then the creaking of your own door. You lift your head and see Jaehyun laying down beside you.

    "Oh, my love, you're still awake?" he asks, sliding beneath the covers.

    "Barely," you mumble groggily. At this point, you've accepted that you can't keep your eyes open, and have resorted to mumbling sleepily with your eyes shut. "You're so hood with him, Jae."

    "Not as good as you," Jaehyun admits. "C'mere, let's get you warm and cozy."

    He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you, your back against his chest, so that you can fall asleep to the sound of his breathing, comfortable in his arms. You hum contently.

    #p: admin 🎶 #g: fluff#g: tbz #g: the boyz #m: hyunjae#g: oneshot#wc: >500 #g: parent!reader #☆ newstarlights.txt
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  • ocean-eyes-luke
    07.05.2021 - 14 minutes ago
    Looking for RP partner

    Hi, I’m looking for someone to do an RP with. I really would like someone who loves fluff, loads of smut (even if I’m not the best in it), angst based plots. Since I enjoy smut, I really would like someone who’s 20+. I like to RP in first person, and currently I can’t do doubles, I would love if you don’t mind this. I do MxF, I look for someone who’d enjoy playing Luke Hemmings. I use Telegram only for RP’s, if you’re in the UK it would be even more perfect, but not a must. Send me a message if you’re interested, I would really love to have someone who has a lot of time but also doesn’t mind me disappearing sometimes, as I have plenty hobbies. Please long-term! We can speak about everything else in a DM, but I definitely won’t do incest, rape or self harm plots. With everything else I’m pretty okay… I’m looking forward to hear from you. 🖤

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  • spencerreidsimp
    07.05.2021 - 14 minutes ago

    I’m thinking about writing a blurb, don’t know for who tho

    Vote for Sirius or Regulus

    #sirius black#regulus black #sirius black smut #regulus black smut #sirius black fluff #regulus black fluff
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  • old-no7
    07.05.2021 - 14 minutes ago
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  • iwadashi
    07.05.2021 - 15 minutes ago

    When they neglect you for another girl Part 4 (Sakusa)

    When they neglect you for another girl, Sakusa

    Part 1

    Part 2

      Part 3 

    Part 4

    Word Count: 2.6K

    Genre: Angst to Fluff

    This is not proofread. So expect words that don’t make sense, or arent spelled correct :D

    AN: YES I DID PUT MYSELF IN THIS STORY! SUE ME. This is basically inspired by a random conversation i had w the great @teesumu, so this is basically for you doll <33

    You and Sakusa have been together for a around 10 years and love eachother immensly.    

    However recently Sakusa has been busy and you havent really had much time together lately as he claims been busy doing loads of visits with his new agent.

    But of course, being the loving partner you are you wanted to revive the spark in your relationship.

    You have been seeing a lot of people on social media posting their aesthetic ‘picnic dates,’ and you knew that this was something that appealed to you before it was ‘on trend.’ Kiyoomi immediately came to your mind once you had the idea of going on a date. You knew that you haven’t be around each other lately, as Kiyoomi always had either a ‘meeting’ or some sort of ‘interview’ that his new agent “Empress” has set up for him.

    You didn’t really know Empress that well, just that she was ‘good at her job,’ a ‘hard and dilligent worker,’ and a ‘raging hottie’ with Atsumu’s opinion being the last one. You weren’t suspecting her to have any malicious intent towards you or Kiyoomi, since you knew that he had a great judge of character. But it was just odd, that every time Kiyoomi was running late or having ‘super-secret’ conversations on the phone it was always because ‘my agent set up this,’ ‘my agent set up that,’ and that’s what left you a bit wary.

    As you were scrolling through your phone you see a calendar updating saying : Next Week‘ A DECADE AGO WE FELL IN LOVE.’  

    10 years. How could you forget? You and Omi have literally been together for a decade. You think back to the decade of madness and love you’ve been through together, smiling fondly to yourself but then you think about where you are now... barely even talking to each other, only mainly seeing him when he comes home from work.

    You need to fix this. Or at least make an attempt to get you and Kiyoomi talking again. So, the only thing you can do, is plan that picnic.

    You spent the rest of the day planning your anniversary picnic. ’It’s going to be great,’ you think to yourself, you have a list of all Omi’s favorite foods you're going to make him and bring and you are probably going to pick up a few board games and maybe even get some paint supplies. You and Kiyoomi used to paint a lot together, with the two of you not being the best of painters, but you enjoyed eachothers company non the less.  

    Everything was sorted...for the most part. All you needed to do was get Omi there, and it’ll all be okay. Right? As you were bubbling and looking for more picnic inspo, you hear your front door open which made you even more excited to tell your boyfriend your plans.  

    As you rush to go greet him, you see he’s on the phone making you roll your eyes. “No Empress it won’t work, we need this sorted by next week. Okay? Next week.” he says in an agitated way. He hangs up the phone and sighs, shoving off his duffel bag.

    “Hey Omi, how was your day?” you say a bit hesitant, noticing his annoyed mood.  

    “Fine” He said dismissively, aiming to walk past you aiming for your bedroom.

    “Oh well I have something amazing planned for ne-” you try to say following after him.

    “Can we not do this right now Y/N,” he says again turning too look at you making you frown a bit, all you wanted to do is surprise him with your plans and have a day out with him. After noticing your sad look he finishes with “it’s just that Empress she’s bee-”

    “I don’t want to hear about her.” you say bitterly folding your arms, Empress is the last person you want to hear about right now “God Omi can’t you just care about me? For once.”

    “I do I-”

    “You don’t anymore,” you say, with all the emotions and feelings you’ve been just supressing from a while coming up. You don’t even know how you got from point A to B with this conversation, but there's no stopping now. “I feel that, for a while now we haven’t been how we were before when we were just Y/N and Kiyoomi. Instead of how we are now. Just Y/N. Then Kiyoomi and Empress.”

    After hearing his agents name, Kiyoomi’s name contorts to confusion “Empress? What does she have to do with anything?”

    “How can you not see? For the past month all it’s been is ‘Empress this’ ‘Empress that,’” you complain “Having your super secret conversations with her, like god Kiyoomi can’t you see a problem with this?”  

    “It’s not like that Y/N, we’re just work partners” he says looking a bit annoyed “Just business.”

     “Just business? So Kiyoomi, what were you talking about on the phone earlier” you say with your voice slight accusingly.

    “Umm I, I can’t really say?” he says more of a question then a fully assured statement. You squint your eyes at him and scoff.

    “What is going on with you Omi?” you say “are you cheating on me with her is that it?”

    “No, no of course not Y/N! How could you even ask that?” he frowned at your question making your chest hurt, since deep down you knew he could never do that to you. Could he?

    “Well tell me then, what were you talking about?” you ask again.

    “I can’t say..” he finishes  

    “Well I can’t stay.” you say and his face goes back to confusion “Here. With you.”

    “What do you mean Y/-”

    “I need a break or something. I just can’t be here right now.” You start to rush and pack a big of things whilst Kiyoomi just stands there.

    After you pack up your stuff, you look back and see Kiyoomi just there. Standing. You were upset, you kind of wanted him to rush after you and beg you not to leave, but he was just there. Standing. So you put the hand on the door and just before you leave you turn back and say “bye Sakusa, see you later?” to which you see him slightly nod at.

    When the door shut, Kiyoomi starts to cry. After hearing you call him by his last name really twisted the knife that was already in his heart. You haven’t called him that since you were like 15. He knew what you wanted; he knew you wanted him to rush towards you and beg you not to leave, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. But what he could do is call the one person he only could call.

    After a few rings, he hears “What do you need Saku?”  

    “She’s gone, she left.”

    “What do you mean she’s gone, did you tell her?”  

    “No I didn’t tell her. And that’s the problem, Empress she think-”

    “Saku, don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”

    “You’ll handle it?”

    “Don’t I always?”

    He couldn’t argue with that, he just had to trust that Empress could sort it. “And also, don’t spend the week with your head up your ass crying, you’ve got a lot of grovelling to do kiddo.”

    He nodded even though she couldn’t see him, as he knew that what just went down needed to be resolved, fast.

    Meanwhile, on your end. You’re a mess. Sobbing all the time, tissues are your best friend, you’ve been waiting just waiting for a message or a call, or some form of communication. You just wanted to feel wanted by your boyfriend (can you even call him that now.)  

    You spent the rest of the week at your parents, immersing yourself in your work and doing ‘self care’ things, trying to forget all about the argument you and Kiyoomi had.  

    One day, you receive a letter, it wasn’t delivered by a mail man though. It was slid under your door, in a golden envelope sealed with a red hot wax seal. It read:

    ‘Dear Y/N,

    My sweetheart, im sorry for how the week has been and I know a letter with only a fraction of how I feel won’t make up for how I acted that day. But im inviting you to join me at the Gardenia Botanical Gardens at 2 pm tommorow, to celebrate our 10 year anniversary.  

    I know there is a big chance, you may not want to see me and I understand but please. I love you, so so much, that words can’t even describe. But I need you to see me apologise and I need to make it up to you.  

    I hope to see you there, I’d wait the whole day for you. If you don’t show, I understand.

    Sincerely, Sakusa Kiyoomi

    P.S The theme is ‘summer hot day, tea with the queen’ - Atsumu’

    You smile at the letter, but wonder if you should actually go or not. You did want to see him of course and get this all resolved, but you had your own plans for your anniversary which wouldn’t of been spoiled if he didn’t withhold his super-secret phone calls.

    It took you hours to contemplate on what to do, but you decided to just sleep on it and see how you feel tomorrow. In the morning, you knew what you wanted to do. Of course, you had to go, at least to hear him out and see if he really did cheat on you or not. For all you know he’s inviting you to tell you that he’s going to run away with his agent and his secret kids they had together. You shook the negative thoughts from your head and just repeated your mantra ‘hope for the best and prepare for the worst.’

    When you got there, you didn’t exactly know where he would be but he said ‘botanical gardens’ so of course you decided to just wander around there. It was nice walking around and just smelling the roses, and seeing the pretty scenery.  

    “Excuse me ma’am,” you hear someone say tugging on your leg “um that mister over there told me to give you these.” Looking down, you see a small boy who looked about the age of four with a crumpled up bunch of roses handing them to you.

    “Oh thank you,” you say giving the kid a head pat “where is this ‘mister’ might I ask?”

    “He’s over there!” The kid pointed behind him and you look to see Kiyoomi sitting under a white gazebo which is surrounded in your favorite flowers and the table is filled with food.

    You walk over to your ‘boyfriend,’ with him not noticing your present yet. When you reach him you say “I think she stood you up buddy,” you joke making him jump abit startled.

    “Y/N!” he exclaimed, instantly beaming “You came you made it!” he stood up and pulled you into a hug, which you return before you remember why you came here in the first place.

    “Oh I-” he says awkwardly

    You decide to sit down pulling him down with you. You kind of sit there in uncomfortable silence, for a while until you both say.

    “So I-”

    “What are yo-”

    You both laughed at your simultaneous comments, before Kiyoomi looks at you letting you speak. “What did you want to bring me here for?”

    “I didn’t want, what happened last week to happen Y/N I-” he says looking a bit panicked “It wasn’t supposed to go this way.”

    “Then how was it meant to go Sakusa.”

    “Y/N, please don’t call me that, I know I made you upset but pleas-” he starts before getting distracted again “Y/N, I called you here to say a few things..”

    “Them being.?” you ask a bit impatiently.

    “I love you. I love you so much, you don’t even understand. Ever since I saw you at my volleyball game in our first year, in the stands just cheering us on. I knew that from that day, after I scored the winning point and our eyes met, that we were destined to be together. I just love you so much Y/N”

    “Omi I don’t understand I-”

    “Just let me finish please, It’s taken a while for me to say this. And trust me, there’s been so many times when I wanted to just say ‘hey Y/N let’s get married,’ but I couldn’t I was scared, and I wanted it to be perfect, so perfect. Because you deserve the world Y/N. That’s why I got Empress to help, I know that our conversations may seem odd, but I love you and she knows that she just wanted to help trust me. And she did, all this wouldn’t of been done if it wasn’t for her. But anyways Y/N what I waned to say was I love you and I love you and I-” he rambles on loosing track of his words.  

    But in the midst of his speech, you hear all that you needed and responded with the only way you can.

    “Yes.” you say simply, with a growing smile on your face.

    “Yes?” he repeats confused “What do you meann ye- ohhh" Kiyoomi blushes embarrased that after all that he ended up ruining the thought out proposal he wanted to give you with his ramble.

    “Im sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to say it like that I wanted it to be perfect and I-”

    You shut him up with a kiss making his eyes widen as he reciprocates it anyways.  

    “What did he say?” you hear someone shout from a far, and you look over to see the MSBY Jackals all standing there with shit eating grins on their faces.

    “I said yes!” you yell back, to which they all cheer and rush towards you guys giving you both hugs and slapping Kiyoomi on the back.  

    As the boys celebrate Omi finnally do what he’s been planning for ages, you get approached by Empress who awkwardly walks up to you. “ I didn’t want to leave the impression that me and Saku were any sort of thing?” she says

    “Yeah I think it was definitely a big misunderstanding, it’s just that Omi was never around and whenever he was he was just talking to you and you know how it is.”

    “I definitely know, I’d feel the same way if my boyfriend did that to me.”

    “Oooh boyfriend?” you ask her feeling nosey on her romantic life.  

    “Yeah boyfriend. You know iwaizumi hajime... the trainer?” she says smiling a bit when she said his name.

    “The trainer! Nice.”

    The rest of the night was fun and was basically an engagement party for you and Omi all you and friends just partying and celebrating yours and Omi’s love for each other. “Omi” you say getting his attention “Happy ten year anniversary babe”

    “Happy anniversary, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

    After the party you spend your months now planning for a big fat wedding, with the help of your new found bestie, Empress (who you obviously misjudged from the start.) You and Omi could never be happier, every thing was back to how it was before, maybe even better. And you definitely spent at least two Saturdays a month going out for picnics and it was now a tradition in your relationship, so in the end you did get your ‘aesthetic picnic date.’

    AN: WHAT DID U GUYS THINK??

    #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyuu fluff #sakusa x you #sakusa headcanons#haikyu angst#sakusa fluff #sakusa x reader #sakusa oneshot#haikyu sakusa
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  • sen-ketsu
    07.05.2021 - 15 minutes ago

    Yandere Kuroo x Y/N

    chapter 1

    ⚠️Warning ⚠️
    Abuse, suicide, killing, smut, probably spelling mistakes.
    A/N: I wrote this a while ago and I’m just now finding it, so I’ll start a thread about yandere kuroo.

    “L- o- v-e”

    *loading*

    Definition:

    “a feeling of strong or constant affection for a person; attraction that includes sexual desire.”

    “How to make somebody love you back.?”

    *loading*

    Step 1: Understand what went wrong

    Step 2: Figure out why you want that person again..

    Kuroo closes his computer, another day of him googling his emotions, to satisfy his worries. He’d been looking for ways to assert himself into Y/N life for a month now. You was really inactive on all social media. Kuroo had no contact with your friends, or relatives. Which made it harder to check on you.He takes out his phone and opens Instagram and searches for you username.

    (Your insta username) *enters*

    “She’s offline, again for this third time this week.”

    He gets frustrated due to the fact that you hardly post anything on your social media. Which grows a more desire to want you.

    “iMessage notification 1”

    Kenma: She’s at the cafe on mulabury street next to that small smoothie place.

    •••

    Kuroo: I’ll be there in a minute. Don’t go near her, record a video until I get there.

    Over the years kuroo and kenma had a pretty strong relationship. He helped kenma with his gaming YouTube& how he put at least 30% of investment into his business so he could get started. Since kenmas start on YouTube, him and kuroo decided to start making videos together, making large amounts of money within only a months span. They both connected bank accounts, so they see whatever the other person does. Everything was running good until kuroo obsession with Y/N. Their communications and relations dropped drastically, turning a friendship to be very abusive. Kuroo emotionally , mentally and physically abused kenma. He continues to take out funds from kenma bank account and even put his balance in the negatives. The tension between them is thicker than concrete. Kuroo wouldn’t or couldn’t take “no” or “I don’t know” as an answer.

    *Attachment 1 Video*

    *Y/N talking to Noya*

    “Who is that?” kuroo speedily texts Kenma with multiple question marks.

    •••

    Kenma: Noya also known as nishinoya. That’s Y/N friend.

    “Read”

    ...

    “friend?”

    ...

    “what’s that?”

    Kuroos Jealously & obsession grew stronger. He was confused at what was a “friend” and how it would affect him. His palms got sweatier, his shaking grew to be almost unbearable. What he really wanted to do go over the speed limit until he got at the cafe, and take matters into his own hands. He started Swerving around on the road just thinking about how his actions could get the best of him. “I can’t embarrass myself in front of Y/N, I’m her ONLY choice.” His thoughts running in circles trying to get an direct answer.

    “friend?”

    ...

    “friend?”

    ...

    Kuroo finally arrives at the cafe after having a panic attack, he parks in the a shady alleyway not to far away from the cafe. He takes out his phone and starts to google.

    ....

    “what is a friend?”

    definition:

    “a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection.”

    ...

    “(Your insta username) has posted”

    Kuroo clicks the notification without a second thought. The post has been up for 25 seconds and already with 12 likes. He moves his eyes upward to the actual picture and sees you posting beside the cafe chair, smiling. Another thing that kuroo really wanted to see. He wished that you and him were official... However, he sees the disgusting caption.

    “He makes me happy🖤”

    The hatred boiled in kuroos blood. Never once did Y/N announced that she was in an relationship or had any type of partner. Was noya her boyfriend? Or is that just a random caption? Kuroo tucked his phone in his back pocket and bolted out his car and went into the cafe.

    Once he stepped inside he was frozen, completely. It wasn’t too many people inside the cafe but all eyes were drawn to him. He didnt know what he was gonna say. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Y/N so he rushed out back into his car and drove off.

    “Who was that?” Noya turns around and slouches back in his seat. “I have no idea.” you brush it off with no thought and continue to talk to noya.

    #haikyuu!! #kuroo tetsuro x reader #yandere#hq kuroo#kuroo scenarios #kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #kurooken #haikyu x reader #kuroo fluff#kuroo smau#y#kuroo imagine
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  • municha
    07.05.2021 - 16 minutes ago

    COMFORT //『two』

    𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 - 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘢𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
    𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊 - 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦?; (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ fluff ♥; 𝘪𝘥𝘳𝘬?
    𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 - 1.9𝘒?

    Bidding goodbyes to his hyungs, Youngjae giddily made his way to the door until he saw her––you. You looked devastated while on the phone. Something must’ve happened. He stood there wanting to know what’s up, timely grasping the affair of your company at stake and you trying to bail out your diligence with a conference-offer in a very short while. She never told me about this he thought, mind grief-stricken with not being there for you. Jae’s thoughts came to a halt as he saw you heading towards the shared bedroom. Without a sound, he lets himself in with the spare key. He’s hit by the aroma of vanilla butter and coconut as soon as he steps in, locking the door behind. Oh, was this for me? he thought as he looked around to see the candles all around the house. Jae felt his heart wrench at this thought, cause even though you had a lot going on, the thought – Youngjae – was present. Attempts had been made, priorities had been set, you loved him patently – but him on the other hand? Speculating over and over, all he could find was work, not a thing apart from that. There were times where this charming man hadn’t considered resting his cute peepers until a certain track was complete. Youngjae had been working hard, but the notion of life outside it was non-existent. He assumed that he took you, his adorned lover, for granted – or that’s how he concluded. Pausing those raging conflicts inside, he slowly tip-toes to the shared bedroom.

    Shock took over Jae, leaving him frozen at the sight. Though you two had been dating for a quite while, each other’s vulnerabilities were nowhere to be seen or sensed. Ever.

    There you were, curled up in a blanket, knuckles losing color, as you clutched a pillow with all your might. Call it destruction or damage – it was immense. So immense that those white knuckles were proof of how much you had been restraining from letting it all out. But here you were, aching and wailing your heart out, probably the most vulnerable you’ve ever been. Youngjae thinks for a minute or so, before fighting his way towards you. All that can be heard are your whimpers – muffled sobs, relentless panting and the shattering of his heart. Looking at how unfortified you were feeling, his heart wearied. Why did it hurt him? His love for you – unfathomable, yet it wasn’t why his mind conflicted at the sight of you. The awakening hit him, as he was in the same mind frame once. It pained to comprehend that someone so dearly loved by him, was hurting the way he was hurt then. The familiar feeling was petrifying; mind in a state of thick fogginess – the experience of being locked you up in a tower where it had rained unceasingly; his stomach churned at those thoughts – cold, alone, scared and helpless. Either do nothing or do something risky – were the only two alternatives, no in-betweens, nothing. And that’s why it was terrifying.

    Crouching down next to your figure, his hand softly lands on you. Removing the blanket, you slowly peek out to notice who it is. But all Youngjae can find are your once beautiful, delighted eyes – now brimmed with misery and sorrow.

    ⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻⁻

    𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘥,,,

    𝘈/𝘕: 𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘨𝘩𝘩𝘩𝘩,𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴! 𝘉𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘵𝘵𝘵𝘵𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦!!! 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨! ( ˊᵕˋ )♡.°⑅

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  • cookiefics
    07.05.2021 - 17 minutes ago
    #aot fluff #aot x reader #snk fluff #snk x reader #snk fic#aot fic#aot scenario#snk headcanons#aot fanfiction#aot #annie x you #annie x y/n #annie x reader #annie leonhart #annie shingeki no kyojin
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