#imagines Tumblr posts

  • horneewithpurpose
    26.05.2022 - 1 minute ago

    It’s not just a joke

    George weasley x reader imagine

    George Weasley. A man that to everyone else, he’ll tease, and poke and prod at but the moment his eyes land on YOU… his world seems to crumble. Sure he’ll still tease at others but he’s so genuine with you.

    It’s scary at first, having one of the famous pranksters all over you. At first you think it’s some type of cruel joke. One day he puts his hands on your hips and pulls you close and you finally have to ask what he thinks he’s doing to you “if this is a joke, Weasley, it’s not funny!” And the boys smile falls.

    “Why would I joke about something like this?” And it dawns on him that maybe no one’s shown an interest in you like this before… and maybe if that’s the case it’s not exactly wise of him to just jump straight into doting on you. Maybe just a confession will do.

    And so that’s where George finds himself. Standing outside your dorm with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and some of your favorite snacks(he had saved up in order to buy them for you). His hand hovering hesitantly over the door, wanting to knock but he just can’t find it in himself. And then the door opens on its own. Your hair is messy, your face is bare, and you’re just wearing a sweatshirt and shorts but to him you’ve never been more gorgeous

    That’s all it takes for words to come flowing from his mouth “hello I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me- or rather just come steal food from the kitchens and have a makeshift picnic? Of course I’m not saying you have to-“ you definitely had to cover his mouth to cease his borderline-nervous rambling so you could accept.

    He still feels like he has to earn you though, that he has to prove that this isn’t just some joke to him, so expect love letters that you can barely read(“bad handwriting runs in my family!” He claims, which you think is a joke until you see ron’s handwriting and their father’s handwriting and then you think he might be onto something with that)

    He’s found that his favorite pastime is just letting his arms wrap around you and covering your shoulders, neck, face, anywhere he can reach with kisses

    #george weasley#x reader #george weasley x reader #harry potter#imagines #harry potter imagine #weasley twins #weasley twins x reader
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  • patapon-donchaka
    26.05.2022 - 1 minute ago

    i think its really funny how a bunch of us agree that ormen karmen (derogatory)

    thats all

    #actually i think its hilarious #imagine if he had tumblr and he looked himself up #‘oh thats cool art! oh thats a long post i wonder what its- oh theyre shitting on me’ #silas speaks
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  • jeremystan
    26.05.2022 - 2 minutes ago

    comparing my skyrim and enderal characters is so funny, they’re almost complete opposites

    #skyrim#enderal#ch: zeline#ch: briar #I struggled so much with naming Briar because I had no frame of reference for naming conventions #and the enderal wiki has tragically not enough #I chose briar because of the phrase 'every rose has its thorns' #she's beautiful but also deadly to a fault #I like to imagine that when she first wakes up to Jespar she tries to kill him #because she doesn't know he isn't a threat to her in that moment
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  • rottenforharlow
    26.05.2022 - 2 minutes ago

    Jealous Jack x gf yn

    Jack stares at you with focused eyes and a tight jaw. He stares at how you smile at however you’re comfortable enough to look at the same way you look at him. His footsteps towards you are heavy, and if the music wasn’t just a smidge too loud, you’re sure you’d be able to hear them.

    “Hi, baby. Who’s this.” He smiles, leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips.

    Being caught off guard, you don’t immediately return the kiss. He pulls away and sends you a glare only you’d be able to pick up on.

    “This is Sam. We are discussing potentially working together.” You smile at him, hoping he’d pick up that you’re networking.

    “Oh, really?” He asks with a fake tone and smile.

    “Well, Sam, Samuel if you will. I have a question for you. Do you fuck all of your business partners?” Your eyes widen at Jack’s words, and you pull him away abruptly after apologizing to Sam.

    “What the fuck?” You yell at Jack, lightly pushing his chest. “You’re mad I hurt your boyfriend’s feelings?” Jack pouts.

    “No! I’m mad you’re fucking with my job! You know damn well I’d never go for him, so why are you acting like this?” You huff, crossing your arms.

    Jack strides towards you until you can feel your chests touching.

    “I just wanted him and every other wandering eye to know that you’re mine.” He shrugs.

    “It’s crazy how you went from not claiming a soul to claiming me wherever we go.” You sigh.

    “I didn’t fall in love till I met you.” He smiles, leaning down and kissing you.

    “Great. Next, we’re going to learn the border between jealousy and insecurity. Now, if you excuse me, I have to go work.” You smile, pecking his lips.

    #jack harlow#anon #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow concepts #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you #jack harlow smut
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  • rongzhi
    26.05.2022 - 4 minutes ago

    Somewhat funny and somewhat alarming that so many of you on here apparently cannot recognise when a cat has a face filter over its face

    #text #the ability of ppl to see image manipulation is less than you imagine ig
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  • smutteedreams
    26.05.2022 - 6 minutes ago

    13 for Shisui please 😭💛

    confusion

    "There you are", Shisui panted, resting himself against a tree to catch his breath. He'd been trying to find you since you gave him the slip amidst the crowd an hour or so back. You felt guilty for making him search all over the village for you but the moment you stepped into that bustling sea of people and his fangirls trying to woo him pathetically, your senses were overloaded- there were too many people, too much noise and talking and you just had to flee before you fainted and Shisui had to carry you home...again.

    "I-", you sighed. "I'm sorry Shisui. I really needed a moment to breathe, it was too suffocating there."

    "Don't apologize dummy. I was going to ask you if you wanted to go somewhere quiet but you found my secret spot it seems."

    Shisui invited himself to the vacant spot next to you, following your lead to roll up his pants and dipping his feet in the water, swaying them lightly. The both of you fell into a comfortable silence watching the sun dip slowly. You looked over at the gorgeous ball of sunshine beside you, with his closed eyes, ruffled curls that danced with the wind. The serene casual image of him being at ease around you, away from the clan's expectations, tugged violently at your heart strings and before you knew it, your lips grazed his and connected in a soft, chaste kiss.

    Shisui blinked in confusion, his eyes popping out of his sockets. He turned his face away, a deep blush blooming on your face but he soon turned around and reignited the kiss, almost in a rush, much more sloppy and needy than before with quick, cheesy pecks on your nose.

    #k's asks #shisui x y/n #shisui x you #uchiha #uchiha x reader #naruto smut#naruto imagines
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  • chillpetalsreblogs
    26.05.2022 - 7 minutes ago

    Makoto would get Byakuya and toko a puppy and name her tofu

    #please I know Byakuya and makoto aren’t a good ship but IMAGINE THEM AS BEST FRIENDS #that’d be cute #someone probably thought of this before me but I love this idea
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  • mackenzielovee
    26.05.2022 - 8 minutes ago

    sixth sense: part three

    synopsis: "i'll keep my hands to myself from now on. i promise."

    warnings: swearing, what i would define as domestic violence, crying, mentions of panic attacks

    wc: 6k (yikes)

    a/n: parts of this came out of absolutely nowhere but i hope you enjoy it regardless, thanks in advance for reading :)

    series masterlist

          You clock out at two-thirty, Bryn following closely behind. You tug her back when she breaks for the door, wanting her to walk out with you given the fact that Campbell is still around here somewhere. 

    For the last hour, Rafe had been drinking nothing but water while his friends continued to get even more drunk. He looks up from his place with his friends and grins when he sees you ready to go; breaking free with the promise to return. 

    Bryn stands beside you, watching both of you closely as he approaches. His eyes never leave you, and when you glance over at Bryn, she’s giving you an amused smile. 

    “Ready?” he asks, looking down at you expectantly.

    You laugh, “You don’t really have to walk me out, Rafe. I’m fine.”

    “It’s okay, I really don’t mind,” he replies. 

    He’s antsy now; you can tell by the way he shoves his hands in his pockets and then shifts his weight from one foot to another. Bryn nudges your shoulder discreetly, but you ignore her. 

    “Seriously, it–”

    “Let him walk you, Y/N,” Bryn says quickly, flashing Rafe a quick smile, “Gotta bolt. See you next week.”

    She squeezes your arm, then hurries out of the bar before you can say any more. You shrug and give Rafe an unamused smile, watching as he does the opposite. He relaxes and reaches for the door, holding it open for you to walk through first. 

    “Thanks,” you mumble as you pass him. 

    He follows behind you for the first few steps, but with his quick strides, he’s beside you in a moment. 

    You wonder how sober he actually is as you two walk in silence – the debate on what to say is heavy on your mind. You want to apologize, but you don’t want to do that if he’s teetering on the edge of drunkenness at the moment. 

    “Do you do this often?”

    You regret it the second the words come out of your mouth. It seemed safe, yes, but with the way Rafe chuckles after you say it, you curse yourself silently.

    “What?” he laughs again, “Walk girls to their cars at three in the morning because their ex-boyfriend is a dick?”

    You shrug shyly, “Yeah, I guess. And how did you know he’s my ex?”

    Rafe grins, “Didn’t ‘til just now.”

    “Oh, my God,” you groan, shaking your head. 

    He laughs and guides his hands into his pockets once more, stealing a glance at you. 

    “No, I don’t do this often,” he says, “Only when a girl needs help and decides I’m not that guy.”

    You don’t know too much about Rafe Cameron, but the one thing you’re sure of is he is right about that. He most definitely is not the guy who takes advantage of a drunk girl in need of help. You’re sure all he does is help. Expecting nothing in return. 

    The image of that makes you feel even guiltier for the way you treated him earlier after class. To calm your conscience, you assure yourself that you will apologize to him. Just not until you’re sure he’s sober enough to forgive you. 

    “So, you’re prepared to defend me if some guy walks up to us right now?” you tease him. 

    “Oh, yeah,” he nods, “But they won’t. I have a look.”

    “A look?” you raise a brow, “Let me see it.”

    “No,” he laughs. 

    “Come on,” you groan, “If this look is able to keep men away, I should know about it, right?”

    He shrugs, “It could hurt you.”

    “Your look could hurt me?”

    “Yes, it’s very intense. I don’t think you could handle it,” he replies, amusement giving him away. 

    You snort, “I don’t think you could hurt a fly, Rafe.”

    “Depends on what it did to me.”

    You laugh and so does he, giving you that same wide smile that always gets to you. You unlock your car to show him which one is yours, then watch as he stops about two feet from the driver’s side door. You reach for the handle but turn before you can open it, meeting his gaze instead. 

    “Thanks, Rafe,” you say quietly. 

    He nods, “You’re welcome.”

    You give him a tilt of your head, then pull open your door. Your bag gets thrown onto the passenger seat, and just before you duck in, he speaks again. 

    “You know something?”

    Your eyes flash back up to his, your back straightening as you wait for him to speak again. 

    “You’re fun when you’re not trying to push me away.”

    You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. He just stares at you, seemingly not regretting a single syllable of what he just said to you. 

    He watches you take a deep breath and then slowly nod your head, trying your damnedest to come up with a response. The best you can do is promise him a future conversation. 

    “I’m sorry about this afternoon. I was a bitch. Let’s talk about it when you sober up–”

    “I’m sober now,” he says. 

    “Rafe–”

    “Want me to walk in a straight line? Tell you the alphabet backwards? I’ll do it, Y/N, but let’s talk about it. Before you regret it or decide I’m not worth it.”

    Not worth it? You draw back a step, curious where that came from or how you gave him that impression. You’re sure you did somehow, but hearing him say it outloud makes your heart sink. 

    “Okay,” you say quietly, “Fine. We can talk now.”

    “You accused me of buying you,” he says, and you can tell by the weakness in his voice how much that hurt him, “Until tonight, I didn’t understand why.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “Come on,” he scoffs, “I saw the watch on his wrist. The Ferrari keys he was spinning around his finger like an asshole. The black card he put down for his drinks. He thought the money would keep you around, didn’t he?”

    Your throat constricts as flashes of your relationship with Campbell go through your mind; the credit cards he offered you, the new car be brought home for you – claiming he only accepted payments in his bed. Nothing Campbell ever handed you was without a price of your own.

    “And the first time you ever even looked my way, I tipped you that twenty. No wonder you reacted the way you did. I’m sorry, okay? I had no idea about any of it. I was just trying to show you that I’m a decent guy.”

    “Rafe,” you stop him, your voice hoarse, “You didn’t do anything wrong. No matter what – or who – happened to me, I projected, and that’s not fair.”

    “Well, lucky for you, alcohol puts me in the mood to forgive.”

    Your shoulders fall at that, which makes him crack up. He takes a step forward and stops you from diving into the car by placing a gentle arm around your waist. You freeze and turn around, observing him up close for the first time. 

    Those blue eyes hold yours as if his life depends on it, and the feeling of his arm around you closes your throat almost completely when you try to inhale. 

    “I was joking,” he breathes, “I swear.”

    “It’s late,” you blurt, “I should–”

    “Yeah,” he drops his arm and takes a step back, then clears his throat, “So, we’re cool?”

    “We’re cool, yeah,” you confirm. 

    He nods awkwardly and takes a step back, seemingly only now remembering his friends are inside. 

    “Um,” he says, glancing back before you again, “I’m gonna be at the library Wednesday afternoon. Second floor, back left corner. Maybe, if you want, you could come by. We could study and review for the next exam.”

    You bite down on the inside of your lip, concealing any sort of expression he could possibly misinterpret. 

    “Maybe,” you nod. 

    “Cool,” he grins, “See you then. Maybe. And maybe I’ll have a coffee waiting on you. Maybe you could tell me how you take it.”

    “Well,” you give him a small, closed-mouth smile, “If I can make it, I take my coffee with two sugars.”

    “Noted,” he nods, “Drive carefully, okay?”

    You give him one quick head tilt, then turn back to your car. You listen to his shoes crunch in the gravel as he spins and starts walking back up to the bar, and that’s when you turn to look back at him. He sends a glance over his shoulder at the exact moment, and both of you break out into smiles before you can help it. 

    You’re first to break it, turning and climbing into your car without looking back. You flex your hands a few times and then start up your car and drive away, unable to believe that Rafe Cameron has infiltrated your mind at all. 

         You changed your number after you and Campbell broke up to avoid his harassment and constant texts and calls, but without your permission, Jamie must have given him the updated one. 

    You’re standing outside the library on Wednesday, staring up at the building with hesitance. Going to see Rafe Cameron outside of class and the bar – an environment you feel in control – seems like a big step. You have no idea how to proceed, how to let him in, without opening the floodgates that you call your emotions. 

    Your phone buzzing in your back pocket breaks you out of your thoughts, and when you see the message, you know who it’s from. 

    Didn’t appreciate your little friend the other night. Let him down easy, sweetheart. You and I both know you’d never stick around for a guy like that. 

    Campbell’s words are the push you need. Before Campbell, you know you’d never have thought twice about Rafe. He’s not necessarily what you’d define as your type; but the fact that Campbell checked off all your boxes when you first met him, you decide to reassess your standards. On an updated list, you’re sure Rafe Cameron meets more of your expectations than anyone else you know. 

    You swallow down a sense of anxiety when the elevator doors open to reveal the second floor, and the thought of seeing him in no less than two minutes has your mouth running dry. Maybe it will be terribly awkward, you think. At least that way, it’s a definitive sign that the two of you are meant to be nothing more than classmates. Your life will return to normal, you won’t feel like everything is upside down and backwards. 

    He grins and stands up from his table when he sees you round the corner. Your steps falter, only for a moment, as you take him in. A part of you feels like you can’t breathe, the other feels like it’s the first deep breath you’ve taken since you’ve seen him last. 

    He’s in a tee shirt and ditched the hat today; his hair slightly messy from where you assume he’s run his fingers through it. Two coffees sit at the table and his laptop and textbook are both open. 

    “You came,” he practically sighs in relief once you’re close enough.

    “I did,” you reply, your voice rough, “How long have you been here?”

    “I usually study here all day on Wednesdays. I got here at eight.”

    You freeze, “In the morning?”

    He laughs and watches as you set your bag down on the table, not moving to sit until you do. 

    “Yeah, eight in the morning,” he confirms, “But don’t worry. I pegged you for a late sleeper, so I got your coffee about half an hour ago. It should still be hot.”

    He points to the cup in front of you, packs of sugar sitting beside it. You stare at it for a beat too long, telling yourself that it’s just a coffee, and he’s just being nice. 

    “Thank you,” you murmur. 

    “You’re welcome,” he replies, smile gracing his features. 

    He watches as you unpack your laptop and your textbook, doing so carefully when you realize you’re under his watchful eye. 

    Studying is not something you generally do much of – let alone with someone else who knows every single answer on an exam. You steal a glance at Rafe as you open your laptop, finding him leaned back in his seat and smirking. 

    “I don’t really know how to do this,” you confess quietly. 

    “Study? Or talk to me?”

    You watch his smirk widen, but not in a way that makes him look cocky or arrogant. It makes him look cute – as if he’s trying to be coy and flirty, and he’s successful. You laugh before you can help it and shake your head, keeping your focus on your computer screen. 

    “Study with other people,” you tell him. 

    “Ah,” he finally sits forward, shifting his own laptop toward himself, “Don’t worry about that. I’ll email you my outline so far and we can go from there.”

    “You don’t have to–”

    “It’s the easiest way to get started,” he reassures, “I’m not handing you anything, okay?”

    When you look up at him, you can see the doubt in his eyes. He’s trying, you’re sure, to convince you that he’s not buying you, not giving you things, not wanting you to run off on him again. His Adam’s apple bobs, and after a few deep breaths, you slowly nod. 

    He’s not Campbell. He’s not going to demand anything. He’s not like that. 

    “Okay,” you say quietly, “But I’ll do most of the remainder.”

    His eyes bead into yours, his hesitation obvious. He breaks eye contact after a moment and types something into his computer, and a moment later, yours dings with a new email. 

    “We’ll do it together,” he replies, and you don’t argue.

    Instead, to show him that you trust him, you remove the lid from your coffee cup and tear open a sugar packet, pouring it in and stirring before sipping it. 

    He smiles as you do this; a silent victory for both of you, it seems. You meet his eyes and give him a small smile as you set the coffee back down, then open up the document he had emailed you.

    Your phone buzzes while the Google Doc opens, and you glance at it in your lap. The same unknown number, the same sinking feeling in your stomach. 

    Flying to Milan on business Saturday morning. I got an extra ticket for you. I’m going to need some sort of entertainment, and all I’ve been thinking about is you in that black lingerie set I bought you. Bring it. 

    “Everything okay?”

    You look up and realize you probably look the same way you feel – concerned and annoyed. You nod and squirm in your seat, already forming a response in your head. 

    “Fine,” you promise. 

    Quickly, you type a message back to Campbell, then shut your phone off completely. 

    I burned it. 

    “Just need to change my phone number,” you continue, talking to Rafe. 

    “Is it him?”

    You sigh and sip on your coffee once more, eventually opting not to respond to the question. Instead, you flip to the correct chapter on Rafe’s half-completed study guide and remind yourself to focus. 

    “I’ll cover typologies of long-term care, and you work on the need for prevention. Sound fair?”

    He nods slowly, seemingly unsure if he should press the topic or not. You watch as he processes, then turns his attention to his textbook.

    The two of you work in silence for a while. Rafe stays focused, which in turn keeps you focused, and you both type your own information while also watching the other type in the same Google doc. Rafe writes in blue; the perfect shade that isn’t too difficult to read, but helps to divide up the information. You choose a dark purple, citing those same reasons for yourself.

    All of the sudden, his cursor pops up in your section of the document. You glance up at him, but his eyes remain on the screen as he types. 

    Hi. 

    You have to bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling at his playfulness, forgetting all about the textbook beside you or the sentence you had half-typed out. You move your cursor under his greeting, fully aware that his eyes are on you.

    Hi. 

    You see him grin out of the corner of your eye. You don’t dare look up; sure he’d be able to see right through you with that smile. 

    Want to know what I’m thinking about right now?

    You steal a glance, but his head is now buried in his textbook. Anyone walking past might not even assume you know each other, let alone are typing in the same document instead of speaking.

    The need for prevention in Cuba?

    He laughs this time, and a part of you feels victorious.

    No. I’m thinking about whether or not you’ll sit with me on Friday. Also wondering why Campbell is texting you. But mostly the sitting arrangement thing. 

    You have to bite down harder to stop the smile. You pull your laptop closer and try to discreetly sink behind it, but he lets out a quiet laugh when you do this. 

    Are you jealous or something? 

    You hear him snort.

    Of Campbell? No fucking way. I’m just trying to figure out how– 

    Rafe stops typing then, and you swallow. You give him a beat, then two, and watch more letters appear. 

    Prominent he is in your life. 

    You stare at the words for longer than you probably should. Rafe asking you this could mean anything, but you’re almost sure you know where this is heading. You swallow and move your fingers over the keys, selecting each letter carefully as he watches them appear.

    He’s nothing in my life. I changed my number after we broke up, and my boss gave him my new one on Friday, I’m assuming. I’m changing my number tomorrow. 

    You sit up then, a more serious expression on your face. Before you can help it, your eyes are on him, and he’s watching you. His lips tip up and then his eyes travel back to his laptop, and he types with confidence. 

    Will I be updated on this change?

    You laugh. He grins. 

    If you want to be. 

    His response takes one second; his fingers practically slamming against his keyboard. 

    You have no idea how much. 

    You smile; a real, genuine smile, and he gives you one back. Your stomach is in knots and you feel dizzy – in a good way – so you sip your coffee to distract yourself. Rafe goes back to his screen and types again, earning all of your attention. 

    By the way, there’s a party at my frat on Saturday night. If you don’t have to work, you should come by. 

    You consider that for a moment, deciding all too fast that it’s a good idea to go. Getting to be around Rafe in a natural setting, where his focus is not entirely on you, or class, or Campbell, might help you determine who he really is. What he’s really about. 

    Maybe, you reply. 

    He scoffs. 

    Maybe, huh? Maybe like how you showed today, or maybe like no chance in hell?

    You laugh and look up at him, shaking your head. 

    Maybe like today.

    He grins widely then, and everything in you feels calm. When your eyes flicker up to him, he’s already watching you, his pupils dilated and smile prominent on his cheeks. 

    “Stop distracting me,” he stage-whispers, “I’m trying to study.”

    Your jaw falls open and you teasingly swat at him, making him laugh. 

    “You distracted me,” you say back. 

    “No, you distracted me first. I was staring at you for, like, five minutes before I typed anything.”

    Your face falls out of shock; both that he would admit it and that it was happening in the first place. You sink back in your seat and watch as he crosses his arms over his chest, clearly not regretting a word. 

    “You were?” 

    “Yes,” he replies evenly, “Kind of hard not to.”

    You laugh uneasily and rake a hand through your hair, fidgeting with yourself as you’re unsure of what to do.  

    “We need to work,” you say quietly. 

    He wants to push it, you can tell by the way he sits up and leans forward. Then, after a second, he sits back. You’re grateful; not wanting this to go too far too fast. You’re sure he can tell, somehow, and he nods. 

    “Good call,” he murmurs. 

         You and Rafe work in silence for another two hours before you drop your head onto the table, your brain exhausted from the reading and the typing and the learning. Rafe laughs softly and reaches across the table, covering your hand with his own as a way of comforting you. You sit up immediately and pull your hand back, more startled by the touch than anything. 

    “Sorry,” he whispers, “I wasn’t— Just making sure you’re okay.”

    You shake your head as you chew on your bottom lip, and as a sign of good faith, you set your hand on the table again. 

    “I’m good,” you promise, “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

    A smile tugs at the end of his lips, and the feeling that erupts in your stomach at the view has you questioning this whole day. Rafe Cameron is slowly crawling under your skin and making himself at home, and you’re allowing it. 

    “Are you expecting it now?”

    You swallow and meet his glance, his killer blue eyes that could probably talk you into anything if you let them. There’s still that part of you begging to push him away, to shove him so far back that his laugh doesn’t make your heart beat faster, his eyes don’t make your blood stop in your veins. That voice is demanding you stop; walk away before he could possibly hurt you. 

    “I should go.”

    The words come out of your mouth before you can even realize you are the one saying them. His face falls, only for a second, before he collects himself and nods. 

    “Yeah, um, for sure,” he clears his throat, “It’s been a long day.”

    “Yeah,” you agree. 

    He watches as you close your laptop and your textbook, shoving them into your bag. Reluctantly, you stand, and he stands with you. 

    “Thanks for coming,” he says, his voice almost shy. 

    “Thanks for the study guide,” you counter, “I’ll see you Friday.”

    “Same seats as last week,” he says. His hands get tucked into his pockets, and you wonder if it’s an anxious move. 

    You tuck your bag over your shoulder and then collect your empty coffee cup and sugar packets to throw out. When you look back up at him, he’s practically begging you to confirm what he’s said. 

    “Okay,” you say, your voice slightly hoarse. 

    “Cool,” he grins, relaxing, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

    “Goodnight, Rafe.”

    You turn and walk away, tossing your coffee cup in the nearest garbage can. Just before you round the corner, you turn back, finding him still standing and watching you walk away. He laughs when you catch him, but you turn back before he can see you smile, too. 

         Friday comes slowly. So slowly, in fact, that you find your stomach swirling with excitement and anxiety as you walk to class, unable to believe you haven’t seen Rafe in almost two days. And that fact scares you. The fact that you’re now vulnerable – given then you’re looking forward to seeing him, makes you feel weak. That voice in your head tells you to run in the opposite direction every single time you think about those blue eyes. 

    If you get hurt, it’s your fault. 

    If you let him in and he isn’t who you thought, it’s your fault. 

    Your heart has a completely different opinion. 

    Rafe is not Campbell. 

    Rafe is not going to hurt you.

    You can’t push everyone away. 

    Yes, you can. It’s keeping yourself safe. 

    By the time you arrive at your building, you just want to shut it all off. You just want your brain to shut up, and your heart to stop pounding in your chest.

    Rafe is already present in the room when you arrive. He’s seated on the opposite side, the side you sat in last week, and he sits up a bit when you enter. He smiles once you’re close enough, your heart pounding so loud that you’re sure he can hear it. 

    “Hey,” he greets you. 

    You collapse in the seat beside him and look over, giving him a small smile. 

    “Hey,” you reply. 

    Rafe goes quiet for a second, and you look around the room to try and calm your beating heart. You spy Lindsay, Rafe’s friend, staring at the two of you from across the room. She’s sitting in Rafe’s old seat, probably hoping he’d sit with her this week. You just shrug and look away from her, not concerned in the slightest. You also watch as your professor walks in and note that class starts in four minutes. 

    “Look,” Rafe starts, leaning over to you, overwhelming you with his scent, “I’m sorry if I made things weird on Wednesday. I wasn’t trying to push you into anything. I’ll keep my hands to myself from now on. I promise.”

    He smells like mint mixed in with his cologne, a scent you can’t quite pinpoint but feel intoxicated by the way it blurs your senses. 

    “As you should,” you reply, avoiding those eyes. 

    His shoulders fall slightly, which you note out of the corner of your eye. 

    Your professor turns on the projector and stands up, forcing Rafe to face forward in his seat. Another wash of cologne hits you, and it snaps in place in your mind. Bergamot and a hint of lavender. Mixed with the mint of his breath, it quickly becomes your favorite. You give in and lean over to him, watching as his head shifts down to look at you. 

    “But it’s okay,” you reply quietly, “I didn’t really mind it.”

    He smiles then, and you straighten yourself in your seat. He watches you pull out your laptop and start taking notes the same way he does, entering them all into your own Google Doc. Just as you start typing, he leans over. 

    “You’re distracting me again.”

    He watches you shrink down in your seat, hiding your smile with all of your strength. 

    The rest of class goes by without a peep from either of you, but you can feel the glances he steals every so often. When he doesn’t catch something your professor said, he leans in over your shoulder and looks at your screen, copying what you typed. You let him; every movement allows more of his scent to travel over to you. 

    When class ends, you stuff your laptop in your bag and pull out your notebook. Rafe hurries to stuff his things into his bag to keep up with you, not even noticing how you scribble something down on the paper and then tear the piece from your notebook. 

    You stand after you tuck your notebook away, folding and unfolding the slip of paper between your fingers. 

    “I have to get to work,” you tell him, “Here.”

    With no reluctance at all, he takes the slip of paper from your grip.

    “What’s this?”

    You walk backwards toward the door, smiling when you see it click in his head. 

    “My new number.”

    You turn before he can speak again, but those eyes burn into the back of your head for the entirety of your exit. 

         You’re not sure what it is, exactly. You’re not sure if it’s the fact that Bryn switched out of her shift, or that Jamie keeps brushing up against you every time he passes you behind the bar, or that you could swear you saw Campbell in the crowd. You’re not completely sure, and you try to keep yourself calm, but you can feel his presence. 

    The second the crowd starts to die out, you tell Jamie you have to leave. It’s about one-thirty, and before he can give you shit, you clock out. 

    “Didn’t do so hot on the tips tonight, Y/N,” he tells you, “Maybe wear shorts next week.”

    You just roll your eyes, opting to keep your mouth shut. You escape out the side door, calming down a bit when your car is in sight. Checking your phone, you find a text from an unknown number. 

    It’s Rafe. From Global Aspects. The guy you committed academic dishonesty with. Just in case you needed a refresher. Have a good shift.

    You smile down at the message before you can help yourself. With the intention of replying, you glance back up to see how far you are from your car. You freeze, your heart sinking in your chest when you see a figure leaning against the driver’s side door. 

    “No frat boy to walk you out tonight?” Campbell questions, feigning innocence. 

    “Get away from me,” you snap at him, keeping your distance. 

    Campbell laughs, “Come on, sweetheart. You can drop the hard to get act. You and I both know how easy you really are.”

    Your jaw clenches at that, but he still has not moved an inch from the door. You debate running, but you have no idea where you could go that he wouldn’t catch you. 

    “What do you want?” you ask him. 

    “What do I want?” he repeats, indignant, “I want you to respond when I text you. When I ask you a fucking question. When I show how much I care about you by buying you a plane ticket I know you can’t afford on your own–”

    “I don’t want your plane ticket, Campbell,” you stop him, “I’m not going to Milan, or Prague, or Bora Bora–”

    In two strides, he’s in front of you. In one more, he has you pinned to your car, one hand on your throat and the other pressing your hip into the metal. You bite back your whine, not wanting to show him any weakness, even though you’re sure you’re one second away from a panic attack. 

    “You’re a bit ungrateful, you know that?” he practically growls, “I buy you all these things, give you all new experiences, show you the life you could have, and you choose this? You choose bartending and a golden retriever frat boy? A piece of shit car that will fall apart any day now? No, sweetheart, I think you better think again.”

    “Let go of me,” you demand, attempting to shove him off of you. 

    His grip around your throat only tightens, and when you start to choke, when he sees the fear in your eyes, he laughs cruelly and releases you. You suck in breaths and try to calm yourself down, refusing to fall apart in front of him. 

    He takes one singular step back, watching you as you try and get a grip on your emotions. 

    “I love you, you know,” he says, grabbing your hand and squeezing it when you try to yank away, “I always have.”

    You bite your tongue, figuring that it’s better for you not to say anything than to say whatever it is you’re thinking. He squeezes your hand again and then releases it, letting you dig through your bag to locate your keys. 

    “You should get some rest, you look like shit,” he tells you, “I’ll be back from Milan next week. You’ll be good for me until I get back, won’t you?”

    When you don’t look up at him, he leans down and wraps his hand around your jaw, gripping your cheeks and forcing you to meet his gaze. 

    “Won’t you?” he repeats. 

    He releases you only when you nod weakly. You find your keys and unlock the car, diving inside before he can say another word. 

    “Be good,” he calls, but you’re too busy driving away through shaky hands. 

    You make it exactly a mile and a half before you have to pull over. Your tears are blurring your vision and your hands shake too much to even try to grip the steering wheel. The second you’re in a parking space, you lock the doors and suck in a deep breath, willing yourself not to break apart in the parking lot of a McDonald’s at two in the morning. 

    You grab your phone, intending to call Bryn. Instead, you unlock it and find the text from Rafe still sitting up on the screen, begging for a response. You’re not sure whether it’s Campbell’s words about Rafe, or just the thought of him comforting you, but you’re dialing the number before you can talk yourself out of it. 

    The phone rings a time and a half before it gets picked up, his voice radiating through the phone and calming your nerves. 

    “Hello? Y/N?”

    You sniffle quietly, cursing yourself for not thinking this through. He’s going to know you’re upset, and he’s not going to let it go. 

    “Hi,” you say weakly, your voice cracking giving you away. 

    The end of his call is loud, and you hear him shuffle immediately once you speak. 

    “What’s wrong?” he asks urgently. 

    “Nothing,” you say quickly. 

    Your voice is too nasally, and your sniffles tell Rafe all he needs to know. 

    “Where are you?” he questions. 

    His end of the call goes quieter. You hear a door click shut on his end, and it comforts you to know he’s alone now. 

    “Y/N–”

    You stop him, “Tell me something. I know nothing about you, Rafe. Distract me.”

    “Okay,” he says reluctantly, “Like what?”

    “What have you been doing tonight?” you ask. 

    “I was just hanging out with some of the guys in my frat,” he says, “And then you called, and now I’m in my room, staring at my fan.”

    You let out a sad laugh, and hear him laugh into the phone on the other end. 

    “Tell me something real,” you murmur. 

    “Okay,” he says again, but he’s far less reluctant now, “My mom died when I was twelve–”

    “Jesus, Rafe, you really went from one extreme to another, huh?” you gape. 

    He laughs again, “I’m trying to tell you something real here.”

    “Sorry,” you smile. 

    You can feel yourself relaxing as he speaks, and when your back meets the seat, you feel your first full breath come in. 

    “Anyway, she died when I was twelve. My dad got remarried when I was sixteen, and I really wasn’t a part of his new family plan, you know? So, after I graduated high school, I got a job and then got accepted into UNC. I work four days a week as a receptionist at an accounting firm, which helps put me through school. It’s a lot of work, but it’s what my mom would’ve wanted. She always told me getting a degree is one of the best moves I could make. She even had an account for me and everything, but my dad transferred the money to my sister.”

    “That’s not fair,” you tell him, as if he’s unaware. 

    He laughs softly, “No. But it’s okay. I’ve made it work.”

    You grow quiet for a minute, just listening to him breathe into the phone. You suck in a few breaths and wipe your cheeks, praying there’s not a Campbell sized bruise around your neck. 

    “Thanks for telling me something real,” you say, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

    “I’m sorry you’re upset,” he counters, “Do you want to talk? Or need me to come get you?”

    You shake your head and sit up, swallowing back any rising emotions and telling yourself to move forward. 

    “I’m okay,” you reply, “I should get home. Sorry to interrupt your night.”

    “Y/N, you haven’t interrupted anything,” he says, his voice more serious than you’ve ever heard it, “You can call me anytime. Are you sure you’re okay to get home?”

    “Yes, I’m okay,” you promise, “And thank you.”

    “You’re welcome. Will you text me when you get home safe?”

    You swallow down the emotions that request brings up, too. 

    “Yes,” you whisper. 

    “Good. Drive safely.”

    “I will.”

    “Goodnight, Y/N.”

    “Goodnight, Rafe.”

    Tags: @witchwyfe @lurkymurker @ghostselena @goldenjo @storytellingwitht @scenesofobx @itsalexwin @onmykneesforrafe @valeriiecameron @lovedetlost @mardema @girlsneedloovee @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @malums-trash-can @emotionalbruv @parkerreidnorth @rafecameronswhore @wanniiieeee @sarahwasfound @abrunettefangirlnerd @absolute-fcking-chaos @jordynsharum @premixed-margarita @anonymousobxfan @samcaniglia @iammirrorball @thisisthewayrose @r0und3bitch @thesimpletype @notdisneychannel @gillybear17 @solllaris @i-is-for-inspiring @sksliz @luversgirl @maybankxw @mattyskies @booktalks @mannstarkey @totallynotkaibiased

    #rafe fic#rafe cameron#rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe fanfiction#rafe obx#rafe imagine #rafe x you #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #outer banks netflix #outerbanks#outerbanks netflix#outer banks
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  • sunghun
    26.05.2022 - 8 minutes ago

    “oh, baby!” - 18.0

    #how oblivious can one person be? (we’re about to find out)

    warnings: cursing, beomjay rivalry continues

    prev - mlist - next

    taglist (CLOSED): @mahalau @odetoyeonjun @nikieskoo @acciomylove @hobistigma @youreverydayzebra @softforqiankun @jongsaengseong @maeumiluv @heatrache @mika-monalisa @mysticore-replies @en-sun @jdyunvrs @lovinsunoo @ccheddar @baekhyunstruly @wonderwrench @ivyfromnowhere @fylithia @msxflower @pixyseeun @junityy @jejenono-ren @heelariously @bluhr @04lshya @simpforsung @kac-chowsballs @w3bqrl @cha-raena @kai-g2titos @multi4lifer @stoatwashere @lovejungwonie @youngbinusf9 @liliansun @hoodiebangtan @meiiiwa @atinysparkle @nyujjan @nyfwyeonjun @angxlsj-wi @urresidentdrugdealer @leefelix-gf @jae-of-sunshine @pr0dbeomgyu @rein-deer-stuffs @jaycheoluwu @lemonqi @beomi-e @belligerentbaddie @hyunjinsbeb @ryumiko221 @strawbrinkofdeath @chaebb @pitchblacksmile @yizhoutv @enhacolor @planethyuka @meiinumaki @chae-darling @from-xero @jeeongyeeon @beomslonghair @tenten-67 @missmadwoman (bolded @‘s couldn’t be tagged!)

    #enhypen imagines #enhypen x gender neutral reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt x gn reader #txt scenarios#enhypen smau#txt smau #choi beomgyu x reader #jay park x reader
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  • gunsnrosestories
    26.05.2022 - 8 minutes ago

    axl: i’m CRYING. you made me CRY!

    Izzy: baby

    axl: now it NOT the the time for pet names!

    izzy: no! i am calling you a baby!

    izzy: i am insulting you.

    #guns n roses #guns n roses imagine #guns-n-roses#axl rose#izzy stradlin
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  • emoviolenc3
    26.05.2022 - 9 minutes ago

    i have a visceral reaction anytime i see fanart of jonathan sims with short hair

    #rey babbles a lil #the magnus archives #i only imagine season 1 jon with short hair
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  • snakedaggers
    26.05.2022 - 9 minutes ago

    Cassandra: Hey dumbass! Get over here.

    Varric: Okay-

    Inquisitor: *gleefully runs past* I’m coming!

    Varric: I thought... I was dumbass...

    #cassandra pentaghast#varric tethras#inquisitor #dragon age incorrect quotes #dragon age imagine #snakedaggers
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  • dreamyteam
    26.05.2022 - 10 minutes ago

    Jungwon Dating Headcanons

    genre: fluff

    pairing: enhypen jungwon x reader

    warnings: nothing

    word count:

    Every time I see a video of him

    He seems so shy?

    So maybe a cute friends to lovers trope?

    Please compliment this boy

    Especially on his leader skills

    And let him be the small spoon

    And let him be the small spoon

    I feel like his older sister would be standoffish at first

    But then grow to love you

    Poke his dimples

    Walks together

    Helping each other with anything

    Sharing clothes

    I also feel like he would enjoy inside dates more than outside dates

    If that makes sense

    Like takeout and tv>>>fancy restaurants

    Enhypen literally love you two together

    Making each other flustered over little things

    Like holding hands

    Being domestic together without realizing :(

    #kflixnet #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x gender neutral reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen imagines#enhypen headcanons #Enhypen as your boyfriend #jungwon x reader #jungwon x you #jungwon x y/n #jungwon headcanons#jungwon imagines #kpop x y/n #kpop x you #kpop headcanons #kpop x reader #kpop imagines
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  • angelphilic
    26.05.2022 - 10 minutes ago

    in no situation should a fifteen year old girl be strip searched in front of three male police officers. actually in no situation should any woman be strip searched in front of three male police officers. even if she wasn't autistic, even if she didn't have known mental health problems, even if she wasn't on her period, even if she'd actually committed a crime. those facts just significantly add to the absolute horror and vileness of it all

    #imagine having ur underwear cut off by three grown men what the fuck #my heart is breaking for this girl like i am crying for her i hope things get better for her
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  • gretavalfleet
    26.05.2022 - 10 minutes ago

    encouraging fans to not bring their flags and rainbow lights to his future shows because he blocked an UA is absolutely so fucking telling of where your priorities stand and your understanding and support for the fans, team, band members, louis, and anyone who might feel safe from those flags and lights. it also shows a good percentage of fans only brought those things for performative, fantasy reasons and has NOTHING to do with creating a safe space for anyone at his shows. fuck you.

    and that’s what you get for making otb about anything except what it is to louis and what it is to lgbtq+ fans.

    #imagine spending years picking apart someone’s closet and inserting yourself into their closet and who they may or may not be with/have been #with #and encouraging fans to bring pride flags to ‘make him feel seen and safe and understood’ #and then you want to TAKE AWAY those things from him #because you spun a narrative so fucking deep and have completely detached louis from his own being #and can’t fathom he’s his own person and deserves to be punished the second you feel threatened as a fan because of YOUR ACTIONS AS A FAN #this is on you!!! this isn’t on louis #louis would’ve blocked them ALONE just for the fact that they have a super follow option just based off his values #fuck you 🥳
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  • lyingbeyondreality
    26.05.2022 - 11 minutes ago

    DILUC! WEREWOLF X GN READER

    Summary: How you look after Diluc when he goes through an uncomfortable shift one night.

    Pairing: Diluc x GN!Reader 

    Word Count: 786 

    Warnings: Just a bit of bones breaking but not in full detail, feral! Diluc, Diluc being touch-starved.

    A/N: This is my first ever post but I wish to write more, let me know what you want and which characters you want me to write.

    This poor boy absolutely doesn’t want to bother you with what he calls the ‘Ragnvindr curse’.

    He’s known of his family history before he could walk and talk: his father had been proud to talk to him about their family’s bloodline, yet the older Diluc got, the more he saw his bloodline as inconvenient.

    He’s barely at the Dawn Winery: always out most nights until the early hours of the morning, where he slumps back into bed to greet you, body flushed and broken, kissing your forehead and muttering a tired apology for taking so long.

    You don’t like seeing him in pain or agony: it breaks your heart to listen to how he describes shifting and what it does to his body, his cries of pain in another room if he ever locks himself in his office. It makes you want to help in any way possible, even when he protests not to.

    Diluc loves you dearly—he doesn’t know what his wolf form would do to you or any other person if they got too close. It is something that he holds dearly to him—if he was to ever hurt you or worse, he would never forgive himself again.

    The heavy, jerky movements and objects crashing in the other room were enough to make you twitch with comfortability, heart heavily laced for your lover. The sounds of bones shifting growls and howls of pain broke your heart, finding yourself rushing to the young bachelor’s office, pondering what was the right thing to do in consoling him.

    The doorknob felt heavy like lead in your hands as you twisted it as if it was stopping you from going in, but to no avail, you pushed your way through, taking in the torn-through room.

    It was dark and impossible to see, desk and chair shoved across the room, papers scattered. You could feel your heart pounding, and no doubt, you knew Diluc could hear it too.

    Within the darkness, the only light that you could see was the faint glow of the full moon, darting out between the crimson curtains.

    It helped to show the faint glow of red fur through the darkness.

    The dark shadows moved and grew, and before you, you finally could see the hunched over form of what you knew was Diluc, back turned from you, hands cradling his face.

    You made no move to him at first, gingerly speaking in a faint whisper to gain his attention. “Diluc.”

    The large head of the wolf turned with a snarl from his curled lips, snarling with a sharp bite, bright red eyes glaring back at you through the abyss. Your heart dropped as if your body was hanging by a small thread over a drop, waiting for the fall and scream. You watched his every movement like a hawk, and he mirrored you.

    “Leave.” His voice was warped to a deep, harsh tone, body rippling with fur and muscle, standing to a tall, towering height, watching you silently to wait for you to obey.

    “No,” you took a hesitant step towards him, wishing he would simply accept your love, your touches of reassurances, and not push you away, “I’m here for you.”

    “I do not…” he snorted through his long nose, mixed with a snarl, “I do not wish to hurt you.”

    Your heart pranged a horrid stab to your chest that made you feel as broken as he must’ve been feeling. “Oh, my love. You would never hurt me.”

    You stepped closer and closer towards him, until he stood inches away, the rolling steam from his warm body radiated off of him, his wolf form almost twice your height and accessing your next moves.

    Your hand reached to him, waiting for him to move to you and not vice versa, and finally, the warm suffocated you whole, the fur on his head coming into contact with you as he slowly welcomed your touch.

    Diluc seemed to melt under your warm and tender touches, body slouching in both relief and exhaustion, his body leaning closer and closer into you as you cradled him just how he wanted to be cradled.

    Neither of you spoke a word, but you could tell your lover appreciated your touches, gentle and fond, reminding him that he would not have to do this alone ever again. His fur was soft albeit snared with a few knots and tangles, smoothly running your fingers from the back of the nape of his neck down towards his spine, eliciting a shudder that didn’t go unnoticed.

    “I’m here for you,” you kissed between his brows, soft red eyes nearly looked teary from being so touch-starved, “I’ll always be here for you.”

    #reader x genshin impact #genshin impact #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr#diluc imagines#diluc werewolf #genshin impact au imagines #gn reader
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  • yedammi
    26.05.2022 - 11 minutes ago

    S K Z - C H A N 

    mine ~!!

    general audiences - lowercase intended - wc. 597

    warnings - gn soloist idol!reader, brief mentions of cyberbullying/hate comments, negative self-image, tears, chan being the best boyfriend ever :(

    requested by @bisexuaboy - can I get an angst fiction with chan? where reader is self destructive (and also a soloist who's close with skz cause they judged them on the show once) so when fans start rumors that Reader is following skz for more followers, they get insecure/angry and cut contact. can it be like han confronting and comforting reader? thank you

    .

    -#.#.#-

    you wanted to throw your phone against the wall. words, words, everywhere words. and not the nice kind. 

    fake. attention-seeking, they said. toxic. 

    with your increasing interaction with stray kids, there only came more and more suspicion and hatred from stay. your own fans weren’t pleased with stay’s cruel accusations, and the whole thing had blown up into a messy fanwar that was putting strain on your friendship with the boys. being around them was tiring for all of you, what with constantly feeling somewhat guilty for the other’s stress. but it was especially hard on you and chan, your boyfriend of two years. you’d been together since a show stray kids had appeared on, where you were one of the only judges on the panel to rank their performance a perfect ten. your high score helped catapult them into first place of the entire competition, which was entirely what they deserved. 

    originally, the only worries you’d had about dating chan was that a dating scandal might occur if anyone found out. but this was almost worse. you were still currently safe from dating accusations, but the knives being thrown at you now were much sharper. 

    “only getting close to stray kids for clout - "

    “just wants to steal some of the boys’ light - "

    “using their fame as momentum - "

    you screamed in frustration, and your hand shot out before you could tell yourself not to. your phone cracked against the opposite wall, falling with a clatter to the ground. 

    “damn it!”’ you shrieked. 

    within five seconds, the door to chan’s bedroom had been flung open, and your boyfriend himself entered with a slightly wild look in his eyes. “what’s wrong? what happened?” 

    upon gazing at his frightened face, your lower lip began to quiver. maybe… maybe all those people were right. maybe you shouldn’t be making friends with stray kids. who were you to be getting between those eight talented boys and their adoring fans? suddenly, tears began leaking from your eyes, and your mouth stretched around a pained wail. 

    appalled, chan hurried from the doorway to sit at your feet, pulling you gently out of you chair to gather you up in his arms. you slumped against his broad chest and buried our nose in his warm, sweet-smelling collar, sobbing as though your heart had been broken. and maybe… it had been. 

    “what if they’re right about me, chan?” you cried, clinging desperately to his hoodie. “or what if… they all hate me?” 

    he didn’t need to ask who they were or what they were saying. he already knew. 

    “no, baby, no,” he said sadly, rocking you in his lap. one of his hands held your body close - the other pet your head tenderly. “don’t ever say that, please.” 

    his lips pressed into the crown of your head - that, paired with the warmth of his body against yours, helped to calm your wails into miserable hiccups. 

    “no matter what anyone says, you’re mine, you hear me?” his voice was deep with hurt and love at the same time. he sounded deeply wounded, and his arms pulled you ever closer to his beating heart. “I love you. and so do the boys. we mustn’t let anyone get in the way of that.” 

    eyes glistening, you gazed into his face. “but… what about stay?” 

    chan smiled gently, wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb. “the ones who hurt the people I love aren’t stays. stay loves who I love. and I love you.” 

    .

    🍀🍀🍀

    navigation 

    reblog maybe? ^*^

    #🍀 kari's woodland tales #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids comfort #stray kids angst #skz imagines#skz scenarios #skz chan x reader #skz bang chan x reader #skz chan fluff #bang chan fluff #bang chan imagines #bang chan angst #bang chan scenarios #bang chan comfort #stray kids chan #skz chan #skz bang chan #bang chan
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  • afairywithacrown
    26.05.2022 - 12 minutes ago

    Dabi would be effortless good at school

    Touya would try to be the best to get his dad approval

    Shigaraki is very good at school

    Toga is failing all of her classes but she doesn’t care

    Hawks is very good, he is trying to be better than Touya

    #idk i was just doing homework and thought of this #mha imagines#mha headcanons
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  • frnk13ro
    26.05.2022 - 13 minutes ago

    Europeans never speak again challenge, go

    #imagine being this stupid fucking imagine #block her.
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