#//Back as a kid; he only (genuinely out of heavy emotion) cried in front of Crepus and Diluc ONCE; each

[dutybcrne]

A little known fact is Kaeya usually tends to cry out of frustration. Little known, because he tends to be so good at masking it and holding back when it comes to a head, with only Adelinde having been the one he felt comfortable enough to cry around, back in his youth.

Nowadays, he will adamantly refuse to cry in front of anyone, even those he’s closest to. But if one who knows him well enough might happen to witness his lashes seemingly fluttering as he rolls his eyes after a verbal bout with Diluc, they’ll know.

They’ll know.

[luvyanfei]

how they comfort you when you’re sad

ft. diluc, kaeya, venti, childe, zhongli, albedo, & xiao non-requested piece 

diluc ragnvindr. 

as stoic as diluc may be, he’s the most emotionally affected by your misery out of the others listed here, but he’s clueless in how to help. he’s not adept in everything despite being known for being a perfectionist and unfortunately, comforting you is one of them. he would reach out a hand to you, and then pull it back to his side before you notice. it annoys him greatly how he can insult the knights without hesitation and combat against his enemies confidently, and yet...

it’s easy to get diluc flustered over the simpler things in life. you’re usually so happy and lively, the light to his dark that he finds it almost eerie to see you looking depressed as you enter the tavern. you don’t even spare him a glance, and slumps down at an empty seat, your head splayed down on the table. out of concern for your wellbeing, the winery owner whips up your favourite drink free of charge and delivers it himself to your spot. instead of leaving you as one would expect, he pulls up a chair and taps the wooden surface of the table with his gloved fingers, stirring you to look up at him. he greets you in a monotone voice unintentionally, and shyly asks if there are any problems going on in your life. he may not look like it, with how distant he is, but diluc would be very pleased to help you. 

with hesitation, you take the drink and start taking small sips from the cup. the savory taste melts on your tongue and your lips quiver slightly. before you know it, you’re reduced into a sobbing mess, your tears staining the floor. “what’s wrong?” dismayed, diluc rises up and pats your back, handing you a handkerchief from his jacket pocket for you to wipe your tears away with. 

he ushers you into a private room where nobody can see you and rubs your hands together. he doesn’t talk, instead fixating on calming you down. dabbing at your swollen eyes and cheeks gently with a drenched towel, diluc cradles your face and leans in close to you, your foreheads touching. “i’m here, [name],” his voice is soft and delicate, a sharp contrast to his formal and uninterested tone, “i will always be here for you, so you don’t need to worry about suffering alone. we’ll get through this together, alright?” 

kaeya alberich. 

he’ll take you to the tavern with him for a nice drink. it won’t do you any good to be by yourself and moping, right? as hypocritical as it may seem, kaeya is fully accepting of you coming to him for emotional support despite being rather closed-off when it comes to his personal emotions. if you’re underage, he’ll purchase you a soft drink or juice, and if not, a glass of wine will surely boost your spirits up. his attempt to cheer you up is to temporarily distract you from it. quite clever of him, no? of course, his objective isn’t for you to ignore your problems altogether, but to take your mind off of it until you can think a bit clearly. 

kaeya will act like a gentleman the whole time, letting a few teasing remarks slip out every now and then, but his attitude is toned down for the most part. after you consumed a plentiful amount of beverages, he takes a stroll with you in the night, passing by a bard stringing music on their lyre. this gives the cavalry captain an idea and he takes you into a secluded area, fireflies glowing to add a touch of whimsy to the scenario. still gripping your hand, he raises it up to kiss the surface and proposes you to join him in for a dance under the moonlight and stars. 

kaeya looks at you with a brimming grin. “are you feeling better now?” you nod, placing a hand on his open palm.

“now that you’re here, yes, i am.” his smile broadens and cups your cheek with his free hand. the tip of his thumb lightly grazes your bottom lip before he replaces it with his lips. the kiss is passionate and savory, a description that fits your relationship perfectly. 

“i’m glad you do,” he pulls back and breathes out a sigh of relief. “it’s the same with me. i admit, i also enjoy your company very much.” 

venti.

it’s best to let your emotions run loose. don’t bottle it up, okay? if you need to cry, then cry. sure, venti may act all carefree and exuberant, but even he has his serious sides from time to time. he takes the situation rather calmly, pulling you into a comforting embrace and rubbing your back as you tearfully sob. when he feels that you’re muscles have slowly relaxed and your cries have been reduced to tiny sniffles, he transitions out of the hug and places his hands on your shoulder, all with an angelic smile on his face. see, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?

if you’re up for it, venti will be happy to play you a quiet melody carried in the night breeze. he’ll position your head to lean on his shoulder as both of you sit down on the ground and he clears his throat before he begins singing. the stringing of the lyre, the gentle rustle of the leaves in the background, and the soothing sound of his voice automatically brings a smile to your lips. snuggling closer to him, you drift in a state of contentment and serenity. once the bard catches wind of your heavy breathing, your eyes fluttered closed, he stops his singing and presses a dainty kiss to your forehead. 

carefully, so he doesn’t disturb your slumber, venti carries you back to your resident and tucks you into bed. as he’s about to head off, you snag him by the wrist, and tug him back to your side. “please don’t go yet, venti.” he pats the hand imprisoning his wrist and chuckles in amusement. 

“don’t worry. i don’t plan on ever doing something like that.” he crawls into bed with you, tangling your legs together and hooking his arms around your waist. the tip of his nose grazes your hair faintly as your back is pressed against his chest. “not now, and not ever.” 

childe.

he’s the eleventh harbinger, yes, but beneath his fearsome title and mischievous demeanor, childe is a regular human with an affable heart. it hurts him seeing you look dejected, as if you’re on the brink of suffocating from insufferable pain. it’s like your emotions are a type of infection, contagious to say the least. if you’re happy, then he’s happy. if you’re sad, then you’ll bet he’s also going to drop his jovial gleam. luckily, growing up with siblings gives him an advantage here. he’s used to taking care of others and turning their frowns upside down. 

if he finds out someone has been upsetting you, he’ll personally deal with them himself, ordering them to apologize lest they want to face his wrath. if you’re having financial difficulties, he’ll lend you a generous amount of mora so you can clear your debts or help you find a well-paying job. either way, he’ll cradle you in his arms and compliment you for being strong, no matter what life throws at you. life’s hard, but that’s all the more reason why you should keep marching forward - hand in hand with childe.   

“shh, [name], it’s okay. don’t cry.” childe kneels before you and wipes away a salty tear. grabbing a teddy bear abandoned on the ground, he shoves it in front of your face. to your sudden bewilderment, he grabs the bear’s arm to pat you on the head and grins. “there, there. mr. teddy is here to make you happy once more.” 

you sputter out a giggle despite tears still leaking from your eyes. “childe, i’m not a little kid anymore. cut it out!” he resists the urge to pinch your cheeks when you pout cutely at him. 

“fine, fine. i’ll stop, but hey! at least you’re smiling again, right?” you roll your eyes and sniff. 

“yeah, i’m feeling a little better. thank you.”  

your comment forms a blush to dust his cheeks and he sheepishly scratches the back of his head. “there’s no need for gratitude. to me, your smile is the one thing i’d hate to lose.” 

zhongli.

feeling sad? his arms are already wide open and a box of tissues is conveniently laid on the table. zhongli is the wave that laps up your sorrows and tears, the lulling sound of his voice uttering words of reassurance like a tranquil melody to set your heart at ease. he’s the type who will lend a shoulder for you to cry on. while he brews up a nice cup of tea to soothe your mind, he encourages you gently to tell him whatever it is that’s bothering you. he soaks up every syllable that falls from your lips like a sponge and in a pensive state, he gives you advice in turn. 

you take his words to heart, since everything he’s said before have always been genuine and your trust in him runs deeper than the bottom of the sea. sure, maybe not everything he says is the answer that will cause your problems disappear, but he does guide you to choose rationally how you want to approach it. as much as zhongli would like to solve everything for you, he’s aware that there are times where only you have the potential to fix the issue. 

the golden ginkgo leaves twirl in the autumn breeze, as zhongli clasps his hands with yours. you adjust the scarf around your neck, shivering from the mild chill settling in liyue. 

you stare grimly at the seagulls soaring in the cloudy sky, and peers down at your feet planted firmly on the ground. a frown tugs on your lips and you sigh. a warm hand caresses your cheek and you look towards zhongli smiling gently in your direction. wiping away the tears that are beginning to moist your eyes, he encages you in a comforting hug. 

“don’t hold it in,” zhongli whispers soothingly in your ear, “you’re allowed to cry if you want. i promise you, there’s no judgement.” 

albedo.

it’s like he has a sixth sense. you could have been crying in your sleep last night and the first thing you wake up to is all your favourite meals placed rigorously on a sliver tray and a positive message with cursive, neat handwriting scribbled on a notepad for you to read. albedo is rather considerate, like that. before you started to live together and entered a more domestic relationship, he visited your home and asked if anything was wrong in a neutral tone that belied his concern. you were shocked how he could have possibly known since you were sure you concealed the visible evidences skillfully with makeup, and you looked quite normal for the most part, as if you hadn’t been crying mere seconds before he knocked on your door. 

he shrugs indifferently and responds that he just has a feeling something’s bothering you. albedo will take a day off from his confinement in his lab so he can stay with you. he takes you by the hand and gestures for you to sit down on a nearby chair beside him, offering you delectable appetites to eat while you rant to him. once you’re finished spilling out your problems, he kisses you on the forehead and tells you that you did a good job. it isn’t easy to admit you’re not mentally well, in which he praises you for. 

hugging your legs to your chest, you quietly ask him if it’s not a bother. firmly, albedo shakes his head and squeezes your hand reassuringly. “no, you’re never a bother.” he scoops up a spoonful of ice cream and feeds you the cool dessert. once you swallow, his lips curve into a little smirk as he wipes away the excess on the side of your mouth with a finger and licks the cream off with his tongue. 

“whether you’re happy, sad, or disappointed, my love for you will never change.” 

xiao.

he’s not very good at handling these types of situations. xiao can never know what he’s supposed to say or do to make you feel better, so he just stands there awkwardly. please don’t blame him! he’s already terrible at consoling himself that having to cheer someone else up seems more like an impossible challenge than a simple task. however, like albedo, he can also sense if you’re depressed or in need of saving. what do you mortals call it, an instinct? 

he asks verr for advice on what to do to help, and she suggests for him to stick by your side and show that he cares deeply about you. it takes xiao a while to come up with a suitable plan. he wanders up to the highest floor of wangshu inn and reminisces over the past. your first meeting with him, the time when you gave him almond tofu, and when you both fought together to protect liyue - he’s memorized it all down to the last detail. suddenly, an idea clicks into place and he teleports immediately to where you are. sitting on a bench alone, while you absentmindedly watch the birds peck at the crumbs scattered on the cement floor, it takes you by surprise when you find xiao hovering above you. he reaches out his hand and composedly asks if you would be willing to accompany him for the night. 

when you encounter him at the location where you agreed to meet, you curiously question xiao what he wants to do, but he doesn’t reply. instead, he scoops you up in his arms, a surprised expression on your face as you wrap your arms around his neck so you don’t end up falling. before you know it, both of you are... soaring in the air? your eyes subconsciously drift to his vision glowing brightly in the murky night. so he’s using his anemo abilities to create wind currents and literally sweep you off your feet. 

“do you see this place?” he gestures with his head for you to look at liyue harbor. the city lights glow in the darkness and most people are walking back home, idly chatting with each other and giggling. “it wouldn’t be as peaceful as it is now if it weren’t for you. so if you ever feel sad again, know that it’s you who puts a smile on everyone’s faces - including mine.” 

and with that, xiao smiles serenely at you, to which you finally offer a grin of your own. 

[rocorambles]

Jealousy

Pairing: Atsumu x Reader (Main), Osamu x Reader (Side)

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Rape/Non-Con, Misuse of Duct Tape, Non-Con Bondage, Forced Breeding, Forced Impregnation, Delusional Mindset

Summary: Atsumu is determined to prove that he’s the better twin for you.    

The first time Atsumu meets you he doesn’t remember you so much as he gets stuck on the fact that Osamu is dating someone. Osamu is fucking dating someone and Atsumu is still here single and alone in his late twenties, not a girl anywhere even in sight. It makes him livid as he stares at the identical face gently smiling at you, affectionately holding your hand, looking so damn happy and content. 

What does he have that Atsumu doesn’t? A successful food chain? Cool. But is he a pro-athlete? A medal winning Olympic athlete? One of the best setters in the country? In the world? It’s infuriating to think about and as much as Atsumu loves volleyball, even he dreams of love, marriage, a family of his own late at night when he’s alone on a hotel bed, only Sakusa’s breathing from the other bed in the room keeping him company. 

And those thoughts consume him long after he bids farewell to Osamu and you and suddenly the MSBY Jackals are in an uproar as every team member takes turns being sexiled by their blond setter when they’re off at their away games, as Atsumu nonchalantly strolls into the locker rooms to prep for practice, back littered with scratch marks that Bokuto tries to shield from Hinata’s eyes when the orange haired athlete curiously asks when Atsumu got a cat. 

Girl after girl walks in and out of his bed, his life. Most never lasting more than a night, a few returning for a couple more rounds in the bedsheets, one even manages to interest him enough to grab a cup of coffee with. But it’s the same verdict every time. He’s good enough to fool around with and he’s great in bed, but Miya Atsumu is not husband material, not when he’s already married to volleyball. 

The rejection only fuels his inner turmoil and the green eyed monster inside of him grows and grows, festering and spreading throughout him the more he stops attempting his futile attempts and instead turns his energy to loitering around Osamu and you, inviting himself over for dinners after practice, trying his hand at helping you in the kitchen for brunch on the weekends, crashing in your guest bedroom to the point that Osamu and you gift him a spare key to your shared home. 

Neither of you think much of it, Osamu joking to you privately that this is just Atsumu being the needy emotional brother he really is while you’re just glad to be able to get to know Osamu’s family better. So none of you notice how brown eyes inquisitively trail after the both of you, watching how the two of you seamlessly work out both your hectic lives, never letting the long hours at your job or Osamu’s restaurant get in the way of your relationship, always directing a warm smile or gaze at the other despite how obviously exhausted or far away from a good mood you’re in. 

And Atsumu lets himself believe that this could be his as he hungrily stares at the way you gently caress his brother’s hand, the affection in your gaze as you tenderly kiss him on the lips, the playful wink you give his twin when you tell him you’re getting ready for bed. He lets himself dream that it’s him who you direct those loving gazes to as you cheerfully greet him in the morning, handing him a coffee made just the way he likes it, placing a plate full of delicious piping hot food in front of him. He lets his hand wander down his shorts at night, straining to hear every detail, every decibel of your moans as Osamu and you make love at night, closing his eyes and stroking his cock as he imagines it’s him who’s forcing those beautiful cries from your mouth. 

But it’s not all a picture perfect paradise and Atsumu carefully listens in, alerted by the raising voices he hears through the walls as more and more time passes by. He’d noticed the growing tension in the house, noticed how the two of you were less affectionate, almost awkwardly shuffling around each other when both of you were home from work these past few months. But he couldn’t think of what could have caused both of you to act so strangely, so suddenly, when everything had seemed so swell. 

Curiosity has him placing his ear on the wall and he winces when he hears you shout, anger and hurt in your voice that makes his heart clench painfully, asking when Osamu was going to propose, telling his brother how you’re sick of waiting, how you want to get married and have kids soon. Something shattering inside of him when your voice becomes small and hesitant. 

“I thought that’s what you wanted too, Osamu. Isn’t that why we decided to start living together?”

He expects his brother to leap at the opportunity, to reassure you, yes, absolutely yes, we can get married right away. He knows that if their positions were switched, that’s what he would be doing. But his jaw drops in disbelief, morphing into a scowl when Osamu pleads for you to calm down, to be patient. 

“I do want that. But just not right now.”

“If not now, when? We’re not getting any younger, Osamu.” 

“But my chain is in talks of expanding and there’s so much going on. I just don’t have time-”

There’s a heavy silence as Osamu is quick to snap his mouth shut and Atsumu knows he’s cursing himself for the slip of his tongue, already knows the next words that are going to come out of your mouth, words he himself is all too familiar with from his own past failed relationships. 

“You just don’t have time for us? Me?” 

“That’s not what I meant…”

But it’s too late and Atsumu flinches when he hears loud angry movement, Osamu’s voice imploring you to calm down and stop what you’re doing to no avail as you stomp out of the house, slamming the front door behind you as you make your way to a friend’s house to spend the night apart. 

No one speaks of that night after you return to the house the next day and the three of you continue as normal. Or at least as normal as you can be after an unresolved disagreement that your relationship ultimately hinges around continues ticking like a time bomb in everyone’s minds. And it finally counts down to zero when Osamu packs his bags and plants a cold chaste kiss on your lips before heading to the airport and making his way to seal the deal on the restaurant expansion that’s taken over his entire life. 

Maybe it’s Atsumu’s fault that the two of you are drunk out of your minds, sprawled out on the living room floor. Scratch that. It’s definitely Atsumu’s fault and he drunkenly smiles at how out of it you are, heart warming at the giddy genuine smile spread across your face, happiness in your eyes that he hasn’t seen ever since that argument Osamu and you had. And oh, he didn’t mean to say that out loud and he panics, quickly sobering up when your smile falls at his words, eyes glazed in reminiscence as you think of that night. 

Atsumu isn’t known for his patience, but he waits, not uttering a single word, not moving an inch as you open yourself up to him, telling him your hopes and dreams that so closely match his own of a loving relationship, marriage, family, sharing about the argument Osamu and you had (unknowing of the fact that Atsumu already knows far more than he should). But when you frustratedly laugh at yourself, asking him rhetorically if you’re just being silly and naive, if you’re just a grown woman trying to fulfill a little girl’s childish dream, you’re stunned by the fierce denial from the blonde athlete determinedly staring at you.

“No. You’re not being silly or naive. ‘Samu’s being the idiot. Any man would be lucky and proud to have you as his wife and to create a family with you.”

Those words resonate with you, linger in your mind, further branded into your memory by the sheer sincerity Atsumu drowned them in. And maybe that’s why you find it impossible to play house anymore, find it impossible to live a forced and fake lie when you’re not truly happy anymore. It’s hard, heartbreakingly so, to part ways with the silver haired man when he still holds a part of your heart, but it’s for the best. Why continue when neither of you are on the same page in the long run? Why waste more precious years when you can actively work towards your desired future with someone else who wants the same things as you? 

It’s logical. It makes sense. And yet when you meet up with Atsumu at his apartment for dinner one night to catch up a few months or so after the break up you’re still doubting your decision. 

You had been surprised the blond setter had been so adamant about keeping in touch even after his brother and you separated, but if you’re honest, he’s surprisingly sweet and caring, someone you consider a true friend. So as awkward as it might seem to outsiders, the two of you remain in close contact and you happily agree to his invite when both your busy schedules finally match up. 

But as much as you like Atsumu, the two of you really need to stop drinking so much when you see each other and you let out a cry of frustration when your eyes immediately tear up when Atsumu casually asks how you’re doing as both of you sprawl out on his couch, trying to wave away his worried face as he hovers far too close to you, telling him it’s just the alcohol making you more emotional than usual. 

And you still blame all the drinks he had generously kept refilling for you for the way you sob and cling onto him as he wraps you in a tight hug, telling him how you worry all the time about whether or not you made the right decision to break up with Osamu, whether or not you’re ever going to find someone else, ever going to get married, ever going to have that dream romance you’ve always wanted, ever going to have the happy full family you’ve always yearned for. 

It all comes out of you so easily. But everything with Atsumu has always come easy and you don’t think much of it, finding comfort in his solid presence as he continues to hold you, letting him readjust and find a comfortable position-

You scramble to separate from him when lips tenderly meet yours, limbs flailing as you shove the man away from you, eyes comically wide open as you stare agape at Atsumu. 

“What are you- We can’t- No no no. All of this is wrong. This would KILL Osamu-”

Something inside of Atsumu snaps when he hears his brother’s name from your lips. Even after all this time, you’re still thinking of him? You still care about him? When the better twin is right in front of your fucking face? 

He doesn’t even register he’s shouting those questions in your face, barely registering your terrified eyes as you try to shrink away from him. But your movement of pulling away from him snaps him back to reality and reflexes has his hand twisting in your hair, grabbing you by your roots, fury making him numb to the way you desperately claw at his grip as he drags you to his bedroom. 

You’re too focused on soothing your aching skull when he finally releases you by throwing you onto his bed and pitiful tears stream down your face as you gingerly hold your head, ignorant of how the athlete is rummaging through his closet. In hindsight you’ll wonder why you didn’t try to run while his back was turned, although you already know the answer. This is just Atsumu in one of his moods. He didn’t mean to hurt you. He’ll apologize in just a second. Those are the thoughts fleeting through your mind amidst the sore ache Atsumu has left behind. 

But a warning bell rings relentlessly inside of you as you finally look up when you sense him approaching you, a thick roll of silver duct tape in his hands. 

Had Atsumu always looked so...intimidating?

You try to fight back as you’re suddenly pinned to the bed by a muscular body, flailing and thrashing as calloused hands hold your arms above your hand, tightly wrapping your wrists together, looping extra lengths of the tape around the headboard, securely fastening your arms up and out of the way. But it’s useless, pathetic really, although Atsumu thinks there’s something adorable about how hard you’re trying, only to be easily batted away by his much stronger body as he tears off your clothes and bends your knees, taping your calves to your thighs, one side at a time until both your legs are bound. 

And then there’s silence and stillness other than your wriggling tied form as Atsumu sits back and admires the view of your naked body, reality so much more lucious and gorgeous than he had ever imagined. You struggle against your tight restraints, recoiling as brown eyes leer at you, ravenously devouring the sight of your heaving breasts, raking down your figure before finally landing on your bare pussy on full display as his hands spread your bound legs on either side of you, palms searing your inner thighs with their unwanted warmth as he holds you open. 

One day he won’t need the resilient tape to hold you down and keep you still. One day you’ll let him have you of your own free will. One day you’ll see that he was always the one for you. But he can’t help but feel that there’s something breathtaking about how vulnerable and pretty you are, laid out for him like a wrapped present, something filthily attractive about how striking the silver stripes are against your skin. 

One day he won’t need the resilient tape...but that doesn’t mean he'll stop using it. 

You shudder as he trails his fingers over the duct tape, grinning at you all the while. 

“Can’t have you moving too much if I’m going to breed you. You’ll make all my cum spill out of you.”

He tsks when you frantically struggle at his words, pathetic begs and pleads spilling from your lips as dread fills you from learning exactly what Atsumu has planned for you and suddenly you’re all too aware of just how exposed you are, how tight the front of his pants look as his erection presses against the fabric, how far too close he is to your most intimate part. And you sob as he leans on top of you, pressing his toned body against yours, something hard pressing against your bare pussy as he captures your lips in a kiss to silence you. 

“I thought you would be more thankful considering how you were practically in my arms begging me for kids not even a hour ago. And now I’m here ready to give you what you want and you’re making such a fuss.” 

He rolls his eyes, scoffing as you only sob even harder, body shaking and trembling, sniveling as you stare up at him with teary eyes, begging him to stop. 

“Oh shut up. What? Are you worried about the order of things? Worried I’ll just knock you up and leave you alone? Don’t be stupid. I’ll make sure to put a ring on your finger and marry you after this. Who cares about the order of things when the end result is the same.” 

Your mouth opens and shuts a few times, unsure where to even begin telling him just how wrong his reasoning is, unsure how to even process his words. Ring? Marry? What-

But thoughts fly out of your head when a hungry mouth suddenly descends on your breasts, harshly sucking a nipple between wet lips, fingers roughly twisting and pulling at your other nipple and you wail at the jolt of sudden stimulation, too focused on the tongue lapping at your nipples and lances of arousal swirling inside of you to notice how his free hand is shoving his pants and boxers down and off. 

You hate how quick you are to melt into the delirious pleasure, body craving for the touch of another, to be brought to new heights by another after being left to your own devices for the past few months and you can feel your pussy clench and throb, feeling so exposed and empty, practically begging to be stuffed full as slick begins to form between your legs. And as if Atsumu can hear your body’s silent cry for more, he begins to push the tip of his cock inside of you and your back arches, mouth instinctively opening as he takes his time, pressing past your tight opening, slipping further and further inside of you until he’s finally fully sheathed inside of you, letting your body adjust to him as he continues licking and sucking on your breasts, groaning as he feels your tight walls clamp around him with every move of his mouth. 

Atsumu is not known for his patience, but he tries his damn best to take it as slow as he bearably can for you, dragging his cock back and forth against your gummy walls, constantly adjusting the angle of his hips with every stroke until you’re crying out, and he smirks triumphantly, memorizing the exact position and angle that has you seeing stars as he continuously hits that spongy spot inside of you. And all it takes is for his hand to slide between the two of you and gently circle your clit as he continues his steady assault to have you breaking to pieces underneath him, garbled versions of his name escaping your mouth as your orgasm washes over you in heavy tall waves, his own release joining with yours as your pussy convulses and milks him of his sticky white liquid. 

As post-coital bliss disintegrates, shame and relief flood through you, shame for enjoying it, relief that this ordeal is finally over and you wait. Wait for him to remove the tape. Wait for him to pull out of you. Grimacing as he affectionately nuzzles you and litters your face with kisses. But you panic, pure fear flooding through you when you feel his cock twitching inside of you once more, growing inside of you again. 

“You didn’t think we were done, did you? Need to make sure I fill you with so much cum that your body has no choice but to get pregnant.”

And he stays true to his words, fucking you over and over again, sometimes hard and rough, sometimes passionate and sensual, sometimes soft and gentle, but always finishing inside of you, adding to the splattered pooling mess inside of you. You feel disgusting, the increasingly wet noises as he thrusts in and out of the sticky wet mess inside of you permeating throughout the room, stomach feeling so bloated with cum that you swear you must be pregnant already. 

Quiet, relieved sobs wrack your body when the weight on top of you finally lifts, when he finally pulls out of you and your body slumps down, all the tension leaving it, discomfort taking its place as you feel a torrent of liquid move to rush out of your overfilled cunt, the beginnings of it already starting to trickle out. But despite your aching dry throat, you manage to let out a strangled cry of disbelief when your hips are uncomfortably raised up, upper body almost folded in half as Atsumu keeps your glistening pussy upright, not allowing even a single drop more to escape. 

And in this new position you have no choice but to watch, anxiety coursing through you when he tears off another piece of duct tape, chest hyperventilating as he places it over your gaping hole, effectively sealing you shut and despite the fact that you thought you had no more tears left to shed, new salty teardrops slide down your cheeks at the debauched site of your own pussy being treated as nothing more than an object, a receptacle for his seed, his beaming smug face between your legs only adding to your humiliation as he smiles down at his handiwork. 

All you can do is mindlessly stare when he directs his smile at you, verbally praising himself for how smart he is for finding a way to keep his cum inside of you and making sure all his hard work doesn’t go to waste, mind and body feeling numb and broken as he finally lets your body lay fully back on the bed, slumping down next to you in exhaustion and cuddling your listless and still bound figure. 

“We can go pick out rings together tomorrow, okay? Maybe try a few more times for some runts after. You think the more I cum in you, the better the chance that you’ll have twins?”

You don’t know, but you have a sinking feeling that you’ll soon be finding out.

[elias-code]

That's My Job - Glatt x gn!reader

~ Ask Link ~

Characters: Glatt x gn!reader, Fundy, mentioning Quackity

Summary: You haven't been back to Manburg since Schlatt died. Now that Techno's destroyed every trace of it, you've returned with Fundy to drink and mourn. Fundy leaves you to your devices and Glatt ends up waking you up, taking care of you, and confessing...

Warnings: lots of cursing, heavy drinking, death, mourning

------ sorry it's so angsty lmao I just love torturing myself :) ------

Ever since Schlatt suffered his massive heart attack at the end of his presidential term, you’ve been wandering the SMP. You’d gotten close to him during his campaign trail, eventually helping him do paperwork, or rather, you did it all for him. You hadn’t been back to Manburg since his death, but now that it was gone, completely gone, you decided it was time to return.

It was a crater. Nothing was left. The office building was gone, the festival grounds were gone, and even the presidential podium was gone. Now, glass covered the crater, giving you the full view of what you had been most afraid of. It made you sick to look at it, bringing up memories from the election.

The worst part of it was that he was gone. Everything in Manburg that reminded you of him was gone, even his friends were gone. The group split shortly after he died, giving up on the decimated country. He was the only thing keeping them together. For better or for worse.

“Hey, Fundy,” You said, stuffing your hands in your pockets. He'd offered to come with you, knowing just how hard it was to be back there.

"Hey, it's nice to see you again," He carried a bottle in his hand and offered it to you. He'd already popped it open and taken a sip of it. "It's a bit strong, but you might need it."

"Thanks," You took it readily, not bothering to read the label before you took a swig. The liquid hit your tongue and burned as it went down. You coughed, spitting the remaining drink on the ground, "What the hell is this stuff?!"

Fundy was practically on the ground laughing. Your tongue and throat still burned from the alcohol and you rotated the bottle to read the label.

Fundy™ Vodka, (98% alcohol)

"Are you trying to kill me Fundy? This shit is ninety-eight percent alcohol?! How did you manage that?" he continued laughing at you as your face burned from embarrassment.

"It's a trade secret," he chuckled, "The people in Las Nevadas really love it," he shrugged.

"How are they all not dead?"

"Don't ask me," He said, "I'm just their dealer. Quackity buys in bulk."

For a moment, it was as if Schlatt never died. You laughed with Fundy for a bit, drank, and reminisced. It was like old times, the hay day, but every time you looked around, you were painfully reminded of the past.

"Hey, I wanted to show you something." Fundy stood, offering you a hand. You were both buzzed already. Each sip of the vodka went down like two shots and you'd gotten a decent way down the bottle by now.

"I'm happy to stay anywhere other than here," You took his hand and gestured around at the crater, "This place sucks." You swallowed a lump in your throat and followed Fundy off the path.

You looked down as you walked. You didn't want to be reminded of him any more than you had to. The people here were moving on from it all already. To be fair, it had been a while, but you'd been closer to him than anyone else, even closer than Quackity.

"Here," He stopped and pointed at the clump stones in front of him. He sat down on the bench as he had done many times before, letting you inspect your surroundings.

"What is this?"

"It's a shrine thing I made," He said sadly, "A long time ago. I haven't been here in a long time, so I refreshed the flowers a bit for you."

The cobblestones were unmarked, put in a rough pile surrounded by oxeye daisies and dandelions. To any passer-by, it was just a pile of rocks. To you and Fundy, it was Schlatt's grave.

Of course, he wasn't buried there. He'd been buried in a nice grave surrounded by gold and diamonds, but it had been griefed so many times that it wasn't worth visiting anymore. Instead of being reminded of him, you were reminded of how many people hated him. Here, it was much quieter.

"Thoughts?" Fundy asked, passing you the bottle as you sat with him.

"It's not bad," You took a swig, used to the taste by now, "I can't help but think that it's painfully accurate that we're getting drunk at his grave."

Fundy laughed briefly, eventually letting the blanket of silence fall over you. The lump in your throat rose once more and you swallowed it with another sip. This must be what he felt like at the end. Drinking to forget, shoving his problems down as far as he could with each drink until, one day, his heart couldn't take it anymore.

"You ok?" Fundy asked, concerned.

"Huh? Yeah," You stared blankly at the stone pile, "Just thinking."

"You're crying," He said.

You touched your cheek and found it wet with tears. You hadn't cried since the day he died, the day you left.

"Do you..." He sighed, "Want some time alone?"

You hesitated. "Yeah," you croaked, "as long as I get to keep the alcohol,"

"Just don't drink it all," He touched your head and walked off.

-

"Hey. Hey. Get up," You felt a finger poke your temple and you jerked awake to Schlatt's voice.

"Finally," He sighed, "What do you think you're doing on my property?"

Through your hazy vision, you saw him.

"Schlatt?" You reached your hand out towards him, but you felt nothing.

"Yeah, yeah," He moved out of your reach, "Hands off, kid."

You rubbed your eyes and squinted, there's no fuckin' way...

"What the hell?" You spat, "Is this a fever dream or some shit?"

In front of you was Schlatt, or a paler blue version of him. He was holding the bottle of vodka, reading the label.

"Oh so Fundy's got a damn business now, does he?"

"Whoa whoa whoa," You ignored him, "Schlatt?! You're alive??"

"Calm down," He rolled his eyes at you, "haven't you ever seen a ghost before?"

He tossed the bottle back to you but you fumbled it and it shattered on the ground.

"Shit!" The bottle broke into sharp, jagged pieces. No vodka came out of the bottle, it was empty.

"You're still a terrible catch, good to know," He sat beside you, walking through the glass. You realised with a start, He's translucent...

You woke up fully, putting your hands on your face and shaking your head. Your brain rattled around in your skull, giving you a painful migraine. The bottle was empty... how much did I drink? Your memory from the past few hours was more or less blank, only the occasional flash of sunset or Fundy was left.

"You're drunk as fuck, you know that?" He said, sitting judgingly.

"What?" I must be if he's here, "Are you even real?"

"Yeah," He sounded offended, "Look at me! What do you mean am I real?"

You laughed, now convinced you were out of your mind. "How was I supposed to know?"

He furrowed his eyebrows at you, evaluating your mental state. "That stuff will kill you." He said, genuinely concerned.

"Oh, and you'd know all about that, Schlatt," You spat, "As if I hadn't warned you a thousand times,"

He leaned back, "Says the person who left the country the moment I died,"

This sent you over the edge and you started sobbing. You put your hands to your face, practically screaming into them. You refused to deal with these emotions for so long, and in some cruel twist of fate, you'd become the thing you hated the most. You'd done the thing you warned Schlatt about countless times. It finally came back to bite you in the ass.

"Sorry, I-" He started, putting his hand on your back. He didn't know what to say, he wasn't the best at comfort, "I've missed you,"

Your sobbing calmed down slightly, downgrading to crying. The tears stung your eyes and your throat burned, partly from the drink, partly from the stress you were releasing.

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up," He said, standing to lead you down the path. You followed, stumbling slightly as the drink caught up to your balance. Just before you fell, he caught you and slung your arm around his shoulder, practically carrying you.

"Man, I was hoping you'd be in better shape the first time I saw you."

"What do you mean?" You mumbled, leaning on him heavily.

"I mean I haven't seen you in so long," He bit his lip, "I was starting to think you'd never come back. Then I saw you with Fundy, drunk as a skunk, sleeping on my bench. Not what I'd say was a good first impression. In such a long time, I mean."

"Yeah, but you're... dead."

"So? What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you died. You had a fucking heart attack, alright? We mourned for you, I mourned for you. I ran away because I couldn't bear to look at them. Those people who said they were your friends. They took different sides. They gave up on you. In a way, I guess I did too, just because I had to."

He grits his teeth but kept walking. "I was just as disappointed in them as you, kid."

You'd reached the end of the path. He looked around quickly and opened the door. You recognized it as Fundy's house. It was vacant, Fundy was nowhere in sight. Schlatt laid you down on his bed, leaving to get a washcloth and a glass of water.

"Sit up," He said, pushing the glass into your hand.

You grabbed it readily and took a swig, dehydrated from the tears you'd shed. As you drank, he put the damp washcloth to your forehead and neck, trying his best to sober you up a bit.

"You're on fire." He said, frowning at you. "Your face is all red. How much of that stuff did you drink?"

"The whole bottle," You muttered.

"And you're still alive?" He laughed.

"I'd ask Quackity the same thing,"

"What does this have to do with Quackity?"

"Fundy's selling it to Las Nevadas, I guess." You shrugged and he haphazardly dropped the washcloth in Fundy's cauldron.

"What?"

"Las Nevadas," You laid back down, "Quackity has a city now. Leaned into the whole gambling thing."

"Jesus, I missed a lot, haven't I?" He laid next to you, the sheets didn't move.

"I guess so." You turned to look at him. His suit was torn like he hadn't changed it since the day he died. His beard was barely shaped, his hair a mess, and his horns were as sharp as ever. He was exactly the same as he looked that day. Dishevelled and broken down.

"I mean it, I missed you." He said, "It's not like I had any paperwork to watch you do, but I wish I had."

"You watched me do that?"

"Yeah, I had to make sure you weren't stealing it or something," He excused.

You chuckled, "You never kept track of that shit, there was no way you would have known."

"Alright fine, you want me to admit it?"

"Admit what?"

"You make this... face when you work. When you're really focusing on something... It's hard to look away."

Your heart skipped. The ghost of Schlatt confessed to having a crush on you? No one would believe this, especially since you barely believed it yourself. You burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it.

"What?!" He snapped.

You kept laughing as your head throbbed, the headache coming out in full force now, "You had a crush on me?"

He scowled, "No." He sat up and tapped his foot on the ground, "I have a crush on you."

Huh? "Even though I've been gone for months?"

"Yeah," He said, "It's not like you forget someone like that."

He sounded sad, distant almost. Like you were the ghost.

"Hey," You shuffled over to him, putting a hand on his leg, "It's super cheesy, but," You sighed, god I sound like a child, "I like you, too."

His face flushed, as much as a dead person's face could flush. "Little old dead Schlatt?"

"Yeah, why not?" You sighed, "It's been so long since I've seen you, but... I mean, why do you think I left?"

"I don't know. I thought about that a lot while you were gone."

"I left because I cared about you. It was too hard to see you in everything around me. I left to get my mind off of you because every waking moment of every goddamn day was spent thinking about you," He looked at you, poorly holding his poker face, "I only came back because everything was gone. There was nothing to come back to. Or so I thought."

"Yeah, Technoblade did that." He jeered, "Twice."

"This isn't about him," You put your head on his shoulder, "If I'd have known you were still here... I would have stayed."

"To be fair, I was stuck in... hell... for a while until I finally figured out how to get back up here," He said, "By the time I'd come back... You were long gone. Months had passed."

"It was selfish for me to leave. I'm sorry."

"No, it was shitty of me to be mad you didn't stay. You told me so many times to put down the damn bottle and yet, you stayed by my side until the end. I let you down."

"I guess we both have things to be sorry for, then." You said.

You sat in silence for a while, coming to terms with what you'd both just said. It wasn't in either of your characters to say anything like this. There were some serious feelings passing back and forth between the two of you, and nothing to prepare you for them.

"Fuck I'm gonna puke," You said.

He pulled back, "Don't do it on me, sicko, Jesus!"

You laughed, "I'm fuckin joking, relax,"

"Just..." He leaned back and grabbed a blanket to swaddle you in it, "No more drinking, no more feelings for tonight. You need to sleep, and I've got all the time in the world to watch over you."

"It sounds creepy when you put it that way," you pouted.

"I'm not gonna-" He rolled his eyes and tucked you in, "Just let me know if you need anything. We don't really need sleep with the 'eternal slumber' bullshit, ya know?"

---

I don't know how to end this lmao, I hope you enjoyyyyyyed :3

[matthewtkachuk]

how to be a heartbreaker: rule five - rafe cameron

Rafe Cameron’s privileged upbringing has let him get away with far too much, for far too long. Between his tormenting of the pogues, running his mouth without consequence, and arrogant attitude, it’s time someone knocked him down a peg. Breaking his bones didn’t work, but maybe you can break his heart.

co-authored with my love, freya @rekrappeter

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader, unrequited!JJ x reader

warnings: angst, starting a relationship under false pretences, drinking and drug use

word count: 4.8k

a/n: here she is the last rule. all i have to say is we’re sorry and we love yall so much, don’t cancel us on the dash. please please please leave us feedback, freya and i read every comment and cry, love you guys so much!!

“Is this last rule even necessary?” you rolled your eyes, listening to JJ blabber on and on. John B jumped in now and again to add extra information that JJ glossed over but for the most part, your blonde friend took the lead again.

Kie chimed in, “I don’t think that y/n of all people needs to be reminded not to fall.”

“Yeah, do i look stupid enough to fall for Rafe Cameron’s charms?” You said, giving JJ an inquisitive look. 

JJ smirked at you, shrugging his shoulders, “Look, I trust you but you John B thought it might be a good one to add.” 

“You never know what life could throw at you, kid,” John B chuckled, sipping on his bottle of beer, “to be on the safe side.” 

You stood from the couch, a grin on your face as your hands rested on your hips, you looked at each one of your friends in the eye. “I promise you all now, I will not fall in love with Rafe Cameron.” JJ smirked at your response to the worried looks, reaching out to do your handshake with him before he started to talk about the next rule.

“Rule five: when they call, don’t be the first to fall”

Weeks passed in a blur, punctuated with spending more and more time with Rafe - more movie dates in the back of his truck, spending time at the driving range as he jokingly accused you of embracing your inner kook, taking you for rides on his yacht (which you had to admit was much more impressive than the HMS Pogue), and eventually taking you to that fancy restaurant on the coast. It was also interspersed with less and less time spent with the Pogues, you were pulling away from them whether you realized it or not.

On a night when Pope finally convinced you to spend time with them all, you were perched on a broken lawn chair as your friends sat around the dying fire with you. 

As you sat there, nursing a can of warming PBR, your mind wandered to what a certain kook was doing. You thought about the way he made you laugh, how his body felt against yours, the slow way he claimed your body and your mouth, the look in his eyes after you had both finished, sweaty and spent, wrapped in each other’s arms. You thought about the soft way he played with your hair as you laid your head on his chest, the way it felt to fall asleep next to him, and the soft and quiet joy you felt waking up with his arm around your waist. Panic set in as you realized the implications of your feelings. Your.... feelings. You felt your chest tighten and your eyes widen as you began to comprehend the truth, stupid bet and stupider plan be damned, you were falling for public enemy number one, Rafe Cameron himself. Your mouth went dry and you began to have difficulties breathing. Suddenly a mess of blonde hair was in your face as JJ kneeled in front of you. Despite your earlier fight, you were still his best friend and when JJ noticed you about to slip into a panic attack, he reacted quickly. 

You vaguely recognized the words leaving his mouth as your name and, ‘are you okay?’ but the sight of him was distressing you more. How could you be falling in love with Rafe Cameron when you were already deeply in love with the boy in front of you? The two were bitter enemies, no love lost between them. The thought distressing you more and more you could only shake your head and weakly attempt to push his hands from their place on your knee, gasping out “Pope, I need Pope.”

JJ’s face fell, the realization that he’s no longer the one you turn to for comfort stings but he calls out for Pope, stepping back at letting his friend help you through it. He watched intently as Pope calmed you down, breathing with you and trying to get you to focus on his voice and your surroundings. JJ stumbled over a branch, watching you grip to Pope like a lifeline, and he realized then that he lost you. He hasn’t seen you in weeks, and if he did, it was for ten minutes maximum. He’d come by your house and it’d be empty, he’d wait in your bedroom and each time your bed looked as if it hadn’t been used in days. His messages went unanswered and it was getting hard to ignore the gossip of Rafe Cameron dating a pogue that fell off every middle aged woman’s tongue as he mowed their lawn. 

He took one last look at you before turning his back to his friends and stalking away from the chateau with only one mission evident in his blurry mind. He ignored the protests of Kie and John B, feeling his friend grip his wrist to stop him but he made a clear break to his bike, jumping on it and starting the engine, making a beeline to figure eight. 

An hour or two later you were making your way down the beach away from your friends. You had noticed JJ wasn’t there when you’d finally calmed down in Pope’s arms, but you just shrugged it off, assuming he’d found some blonde barbie touron and gone home with her. Your heart was pounding in your chest at the anticipation of seeing Rafe, he had messaged you earlier to meet him down by the lifeguard station. Despite your earlier freak out, you knew that your feelings for Rafe were genuine and you couldn’t wait to see him, to put all this behind you and start a real relationship with him, if he’d have you.

Spotting his tall figure sitting on the beach, you smiled to yourself and approached him quietly, covering his eyes with your hands and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. You felt him tense up, and your brows furrowed, Rafe had never acted so stiffly around you. Not since you’d started whatever was going on between you. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he spoke lowly, sounding as though his throat was raw as he pulled your hands off of him. 

“D-Do what?” you asked, stepping in front of him and grabbing his face in your hands. He leant into your touch for a moment, eyes closed before they slowly opened, revealing his red eyes. 

“Pretend,” he looked right into your eyes and deep into your soul as you felt your heart shatter. 

“Pretend? Rafe?” you don’t know why you were asking him, the realization had set in quickly that JJ wasn’t off with some touron, he was off ruining your happiness. Rafe stood up from the sand, his stature towering over you but he didn’t look as intimidating or as confident as he usually did, he looked heart broken. You had done it, you thought bitterly to yourself. You had perfected how to be a heartbreaker.

“Maybank told me everything, your stupid little plan, the stupid bet. All of it,” 

 “R-Rafe,” your voice broke, taking a step closer to him but he stumbled away from you, “It’s not what you think.”

Rafe scoffed drily, shaking his head, “You’re going to do that now? I know everything, y/n! You can’t fucking deny it! I trusted you with things, I-I opened up to you about everything… my mother,” he cried, ignoring the tears that were streaming down his cheeks. He didn’t care how he looked in this moment, he couldn’t care less if someone was filming him to expose him at some big party; he fell in love with you and he was broken, he wanted you to know how you made him feel.

“Rafe, when I agreed to do this, I wasn’t thinking about the ending… I was just thinking about how to get back at you for all the shit you put us through.”

A loud, heavy sigh passed his lips and the anger furried behind the agony, “That’s the problem with you and your fuckin pogues,” Rafe snapped,  “You think you’re all innocent and I'm this awful monster you can pin the blame on. As if Maybank doesn’t start half, if not more of our fights, as if he’s never said something disgusting about my sister to me thinking he could get away with that. As if you didn’t pretend to fall in love with me just to see the look in my eyes when you tell me it was all a lie.” 

“Yes, okay, I admit it, I was pretending at the start,” you shouted at him, feeling all your emotions piling over the edge, “But I wasn’t pretending for the last few weeks. Rafe I-” You blinked back tears, sobs threatening to rip from your lips, “I fell in love with you too.”

“How do I know you aren’t pretending right now? I bet that would be real funny to you and your friends, convince me that you’re in love with me too just to make it hurt even more when you pull the rug out for real.” He shook his head in utter disbelief. He couldn’t believe he had been so wrong about you. He thought that you cared for him, that you wanted him as badly as he wanted you. When JJ had showed up at his house, Rafe hadn’t believed him at first, you couldn’t be that cruel. But the look on your face when he said ‘you don’t have to do that’ confirmed it all for him. Rafe thought the worst pain he would ever feel in his life was standing over his mother’s casket at her funeral, but this came close. 

“I'm not, Rafe, trust me… I’ve never felt this way about anyone and yes, I’ll forever regret how it started but-”

“You already won, you don’t have to pretend anymore,” he shook his head, interrupting you and turning to walk away.

“Rafe, stop!” you begged, grabbing onto his wrist, but he easily shook you off. 

“Congratulations, you got what you wanted, I fell in love with you,” Rafe muttered, disdain dripping from his tongue,  “I hope you and Maybank are really happy together, don’t ever speak to me again,” he snarled, giving you one last look before he walked away from you. 

“Rafe, please,” You begged, before you felt your knees give out, collapsing into the sand. The sobs you had barely been keeping at bay finally escaped your lips, the sound heart wrenching to anyone who was unfortunate to be near enough to hear them.

JJ must have been nearby, because he was on you in a second, “y/n?!” He was gripping your shoulders, attempting to pull you in for a hug, but you shoved him as hard as you could away from you, and frantically clawed at the sand to propel you backwards, away from him.

"This is all your fault!" You wanted to scream and shout at the top of your lungs, but you couldn't, your voice was a weak whimper. JJ watched you intently, his heart slowing at the sight of you, tears streaming down your face. He can count the amount of times he'd seen you cry on one hand, and it was a sight he wanted to erase from his mind completely.

"Y/n, i-" but he didn't know what to say. He knew what he'd done, he wasn't thinking about you when he said those words. He was solely focused on breaking Rafe's heart that he never considered yours.

“I know you couldn’t ever love someone like me, but that didn’t mean you had the right to stop everyone else from it. Am I that repulsive, that disgusting that you feel the need to ruin any chance I have at happiness?” You sobbed, head falling into your hands. You knew JJ would never love you the way you wanted, and you knew that he was always threatening boys to keep them away from you, but you never thought he would actually do this.

“Y/n, that’s- that’s not-” he was struggling to find the words to say to show you that wasn’t how he felt about you at all. 

"I-I'm done, JJ, I'm done chasing something that will never happen," You shook your head, voice hoarse from the screaming and the crying. The one man you wanted to wrap his arms around you and comfort you couldn’t even look at you anymore; the man you shared the softest of moments with in such a short span of time, the man that made you feel something, made you feel wanted and loved. 

“Y/n, we can work this out,” JJ pleaded, kneeling down in front of you but you shook your head, pushing him away again. “You’re my best friend and I love you, y/n.”

You choked out a strangled laugh, “Love? Fuck you JJ, you don’t know the meaning of the word.”

“That’s not true, I know I love you.” He pleaded again, stupidly reaching for you a third time. But this time his fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you to him and he crashed his lips against yours. You struggled against him, his grip strong and tight until you bit his lip. He let go of your wrists in shock and you took the opportunity to slap his cheek as hard as you could. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You cried at him, “You can’t just do that to me JJ. You know that I have been in love with you our whole lives, you don’t get to do this right now. You don’t get to do this ever.” You finally managed to get up, tears falling from your face.

“Y/n, I-” he started again, realizing that he had well and truly fucked up this time, possibly ruining your friendship beyond repair.

“Congratulations, you broke Rafe Cameron’s heart… but you also broke mine.” You spit at him and walked into the night.

JJ sat there on his knees for a moment in shock, staring at his hands that had just held you. His lips were tingling with a kiss that he had craved since the first and last time when you were both fourteen. But it was all wrong. He had waited too long, thinking that you would always just be there in the wings, waiting for him to get his shit together and then you could be together. He had always just taken for granted his beautiful best friend, the one who he swore up and down he didn’t have feelings for, but deep down he always knew he did.

One minute, he’s wallowing in the consequence of his actions, the next, Pope is shoving him, telling him to ‘get up’.

“You idiot!” Pope shouted. JJ had never seen his best friend this mad before, and never at him. Not when JJ had pulled that gun on Topper, not when they had sunk that boat, not even when JJ had attacked you for sleeping with Rafe. But here Pope was, practically shaking with rage that was all directed at him. “When I said tell her how you feel, I didn’t mean destroy her relationship with Rafe and attack her with your face.”

“Yeah, but it was a relationship with Rafe. Cameron.” JJ enunciated the syllables of his enemies first and last name. 

“A relationship that you unconsciously set up, and no matter who it is with, y/n is our best friend! We should support it, but we’ll never get the chance now because y/n is a sobbing mess in the house adamant that Rafe wants nothing to do with her. Because of you!” 

“I- I didn’t want to hurt her,” JJ lamely replied, eyes downcast on the sand rather than look into the rightfully furious eyes of his best friend.

“And what did you think was going to happen when you exposed the plan to Rafe? Or when you tried to kiss y/n right after her heart was torn out of her chest, huh? What is wrong with you?”

“I wasn’t really thinking, man,” JJ ran his hands over his face, exhaling loudly. 

“Clearly,” Pope replied drily, shaking his head at the idiocy of his best friend, wondering if there was a way to fix this, or if JJ had ruined everything.

Only a few feet away, you lay curled up against Kie’s side as she stroked your hair and let you cry on her shoulder. “I love him, Kie, I love him and he wants nothing to do with me. And he’s right to want nothing to do with me. What do I do?”

“Right now, you sleep it off.” She said softly, not understanding your love for the boy who had only ever made your friends’ lives hell, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t support it, support you. You loved her for that.

“And then?” You whispered sleepily, the exhaustion of the last hour of your life seeping deep into your bones.

“I believe if two people are meant to be together, eventually they’ll find their way back.” 

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[liam-cadmus]

A/B/O dynamics. with a twist.  — i’m done seeing omegas as the ones rare in a/b/o. how about alphas. Konoha is full of omegas and betas, as the current norm. Alphas are quite rare, depending on the clan. Omegas lead the village more than the other two secondary genders, using 60% of the population. The rest, 35% of the village are betas, with the staggering number of 5% for the alphas, from any clan.  Alphas have unnatural strength, making the elders prone to keep them in the village, and stop them from fleeing. Some are respected, and some are feared, the members of the village hesitant in being with an alpha, in case they get controlled by the alpha voice. Mikoto made sure to remind her youngest to always, always keep his scent blocker on at all times, and made it their mission to hide his gender. Sasuke presented as the second alpha of their generation. That isn’t the reason why she wants him to hide it, aside from the backlash he’s going to receive. She doesn’t, and will not, allow her child be another weapon, a tool to the village. She knows it, seen it, the way people regard Uchihas as aggressive, emotionless, and unsympathetic people.  She knows, he’s gonna be used, controlled. They would use him against the clan...And they would get crushed to the ground with accusations of Sasuke controlling others. She wants to protect him from the rest of the world, to let him be his happy, loud self without being judged by the stereotypes.  Sasuke is a bright child, with grins as wide as the sun, blinding. He has the darkest eyes, like the night sky. With fair skin as light as the moon. He’s lean, without the usual bulk his father has on his shoulders and legs, leaning into his mother’s features with big doe eyes and lanky limbs. Splitting image, with his father’s attitude and mother’s looks. He was told to be an omega like his nii-san, looking so similar.  His mother made it a mission, making sure to teach him manners. He grew, being polite and civil in important gatherings, how to talk smoothly with respect. To bow with grace and smile with acknowledgement, to praise and to appreciate. He knew the responsibilities he too, carry as the son of the clan head, even if he was the second. He knew, and learnt. Became to be his mother’s gentle child to his father’s kind child, Itachi. Their Uchiha temper is still there, but he managed to control, to dull it under a facade, a mask. His eager and curiosity hidden behind his quiet, patient eyes, even if all he wants to do is ask without thinking about the consequences. Shisui would always look at him with a genuine smile, “I know you’ll bring peace.” His cousin would say, the only other alpha besides his father in the clan. Shisui would encourage and teach him, becoming his other older brother, than Itachi’s ‘maybe next times’. He smiled emptily once, looking more like a grimace. His Mangekyou ability reflected on his secondary gender. ‘I can cast a powerful mind-controlling genjutsu on victims so that they obey me without realizing. I can change their thoughts and future decisi—‘ Shisui stills, before gagging, leaning to the side, horror filling his face, blood red tears flowing down. ‘I won’t ever use it. Never.’ He said it with so much conviction and honesty, that it brought Sasuke to tears. Shisui is the most caring, affectionate, good-natured, understanding man ever, and even if he didn’t say that, Sasuke knows deep in his heart, his soul, that he still would never use that. Shisui and Itachi would always steer him away whenever Danzo is near, Shisui even opting to body flicker just to hide him. ‘Danzo would take Sasuke if he could. You’re already being watched, Shi.’ Itachi murmured one time, his rose and honey scent turning metallic and strong. Shisui’s pheromones tip over like a wave, the salt of the seabreeze and pine cones. He learnt not to trust the council man, and the suspicious bandages covering his arm.  Pack. ‘It is something you care for. You protect it with all of your heart.’ Mikoto Uchiha once said. ‘They’re the ones that will be with you for life. You protect. You do not control. You protect.’ she says, when he was missing Itachi. He learnt he had a strong, high alpha instincts, on how protective he can be. ‘You can hide it, but you can never keep it away. ‘  Sasuke knew independence. He became one with it when he was alone. When all of his loved ones disappeared in one day. They went alongside his voice, and emotions, leaving him blank as a slate, his burnt cedar and mint scent dull and bland. Silence. He became quiet, unnaturally so, his past shell of smiles and grins disappearing. His pack was killed, by his own brother, and he wasn’t even there. He wasn’t there. He failed. He failed to protect his pack. Protect. He allowed the hatred, the vengeance, the loss, grief, pull him to the darkness. He let it settle deep in his heart, weighing down on his shoulders. All he wanted was to scream, and scream. He wants to know. Why.  He tries, tries so badly to hate his brother. Uchihas love deeply, fiercely. In a way that is like no other. Deep to the bone and staining the soul. He tries to find the will to hate his brother, and force it to intensify, but it doesn’t work. He loves. He protects. He can’t hate his brother, even if he tried. He tried, he promised, he tried until he cried tears, until his Sharingan whirled widely in front of him. Until his scent spiked and his chakra thrashed, until he passed out.  A silver-haired man kneels over him, shaking him. Worried lone, black eye stares at him, mask covering his face. The scent of dogs, puppies? cover the man, with the ashy charcoal undertones. He stares back blearily, exhaustion marring his bones, making them heavy as lead. His Sharingan involuntarily activates, chakra pathways protesting as he scrambles back, panicking about his scent uncovered. The jounin coos, before his scent intensifies, covering him. Alpha. Sasuke frowns, dazed, aching, unmoving on Kakashi’s arm.  One thought crossed Sasuke’s mind when he sees the eye underneath the hitai-ate. Not traitor. Kin. Pack. Family.  Kakashi takes one look, before hugging the boy close, he will not lose another Uchiha in his life. They both lost their packs? They’ll be their own pack. Without others judging them.  Kakashi adopts Sasuke. It might’ve been an impulse decision, or maybe he’s poisoned. He didn’t know why, but he wants. For once, he wants. He wants to keep a kid from being alone. Wants the boy to have someone when he needed it. Wants the boy to not burden his clan’s death. Wants the boy to be protected from the village elder’s greedy hands. To keep, the boy from being a weapon. So he doesn’t turn to be like Kakashi.  Gai laughs, relief flooding him to see Kakashi dropping off Sasuke on the Academy, with a lazy half-salute and eye-smile before body flickering away. The Uchiha scowls, before pocketing his hands, and strolling lazily to the doors. Same dry humor, posture and antics. Sasuke has lightning affinity, similar to Kakashi, to his amusement. Lee hops brightly beside him, before the kid runs to Sasuke, declaring becoming ‘eternal rivals’. Sasuke’s jaw dropped, and wide, panicked eyes is too amusing for the people around them, the stoic Uchiha for once a loss of words, and startled.  ‘A shinobi looks underneath the underneath.’ Kakashi-nii— sensei tells them, lone dark eye calculating as he looks to the three genin in front of him. Underneath the underneath. Just what are you hiding, nii-san?  Sasuke groans, hand moving to rub at the sore muscles of his arms, the prickling wounds around his chest and arms burning. Sakura is gentle in healing the pierced skin, nerve endings on fire from the onslaught of senbon. He breathes a sigh of relief when he touches the scent blocker still secure on his gland, wearing the high collar shirt back on after the bandages. He winces at the fabric grazing the sensitive skin, before his nose wrinkles at the overwhelming scent of citrus and brown sugar attacking his nostrils. Loud, worried voice shouting ‘Teme.’ echoes through the clearing, making him raise his hand in assurance. Sakura’s faint cherry blossom scent wafts to his sensitive nose, her chakra muted as she lay on the ground motionless, Naruto’s prone from by the tree fraying his senses. Adrenaline courses through his body as he stands on wobbly legs, tongue bitten enough to draw blood. His gland itches at the blocker tight on his neck, as he moves his limbs to carry Sakura. He lets his strength appear, as he hops down silently to the ground, finding a cave to lay Sakura securely. He hisses through his teeth as he buckles to the ground, pain lancing his shoulder. He moves, willing himself not to stall as he crawls to Naruto, carrying him over his back. He sits cross-legged by the entrance, weaving a genjustu over them as he stays up for watch.  ‘You have a curse seal, and extremely chakra exhausted.’ Shikamaru observes as they break the genjustu, Ino scurrying over to Sakura. ‘What’re you doing risking your life like that?’ he hisses in worry, the Uchiha pale as a sheet, limbs shaking. ‘What happened?’ he asks, as he holds Sasuke’s face in place, forcing him to look directly on his eyes. ‘Orochimaru. Messed Naruto’s seal. Bit me. Had to protect. Pack. Been 5 hours since. On guard in case.’ Sasuke croaks weakly, before passing out. Sasuke tries to awkwardly become closer to Naruto and Sakura, even if he’s hesitant in touching. Sakura rolls her eyes before hugging him on the front, Naruto jumping on his back to circle around his shoulders, with Kakashi’s hand ruffling his hair. He will protect his pack. He will not leave them.  He became a chunin, and an ANBU with Kakashi as his captain. Moved through the ranks quickly, eventually turning to a jounin in couple months’ time. Naruto and Sakura became apprentices of the sannins, having them as mentors, which they tease him about. He huffs, before smirking smugly, ‘Who’s the jounin here exactly?’ which gains him disappointed pouts, a beta and omega ignoring him. They offer him more physical touches, Sakura linking their arms, or Naruto letting Sasuke have an arm around his shoulders. ‘Touch-starved bastard’. Kakashi making sure that he has control on where Sasuke is going to, knowing that his genius/prodigy status will lead him to dangerous situations. Added to the alpha secondary gender? no. He and Shisui already suffered, alongside Itachi on the village’s bad decisions. He will not let Sasuke become a bad decision nor a mistake. They will prove themselves worthy. Tsunade giving him a mission to go undercover for 3 years, striking a deal with Orochimaru. He does it without questions, knowing that Orochimaru needs to be killed, and he would gladly do so. He goes through day by day, sitting through experiments with the intent to kill Orochimaru at the end. Desperation clawed at Orochimaru, having a test subject that is an Uchiha, one of the last ones to exist, an alpha nonetheless.  Sasuke made a promise, to never use alpha voice, unless necessary. He doesn’t see the need to use it, since it only ruins Izuna’s name, being a descendant. He doesn’t want to taint their line, doesn’t want to be seen as his great grandfather, Madara. A rare thing, deep growling as his eyes turn cobalt blue, that makes his instincts go haywire and his movements shaky. A ability that he resents, because he never wants to see gold-eyed omegas and emerald eyes reflecting back to him.  So he doesn’t use it against betas or omegas. He uses it against alphas who dare hurt them, using his alpha voice to push alphas back from his pack. Aggressive and relentless, when alphas try to control his pack, dusty burning cedar reeking his hunched form, chakra venomous and crackling, burning like a thousand embers, his Uchiha blood reflecting his rage. Sasuke can be seen sitting down beside Shisui after he uses his alpha voice, hint of alpha pheromones still oozing from his form. (Sasuke and Shikamaru. Please. Sasuke knowing that Shikamaru is fully capable and independent. That doesn’t stop him from pampering or spoiling him. He keeps his protective nature from interfering but they both know that Shikamaru likes it even if he doesn’t wanna admit it.) Iruka adopted Naruto. 

[lovetenya]

𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞

pairing: tamaki amajiki x gender neutral reader

warnings: one swear word and some emotional language, but it ends in comfort. no tamaki amajiki angst or slander allowed in my house. just fluff.

word count: about 1.5k

author’s note: i love you, tamaki amajiki. that’s why you get the honor of being dedicated my favorite color. mwwwwah.

being in love with tamaki amajiki is orange.

it’s warm, it’s passionate, it’s soft, it’s gentle.

it’s pure, genuine, and it feels like home.

it’s the light that comes through the window on the weekend, shining perfectly into your eyes.

 on a normal morning, there isn’t time to waste. he has to leave early, so he pulls on his underclothes, puts his coat on, and then leaves, since his suit and quirk-enhancing food is stored at the agency. mornings together don’t normally last longer than it takes him to lightly shake you awake and say “bye, honey. i hope you have a good day.” and give you a quick kiss.

orange is the juice he pours as soon as he wakes up, the one you taste when he kisses you, saying it’s “better than tasting my morning breath.” you’re not one to complain, especially not about getting kisses from tamaki. they usually make him flustered, so you’ll take as many as you can get.

today is different. though. it’s ten on a saturday morning and tamaki is right next to you, sound asleep. his tired eyes are closed and his expression is one lacking all tension, and full of peace.

he deserves it, you think, considering the night before. you had a meal ready for him when he got home late, but he barely even made it through that. his eyes drooped and his shoulders sagged while he ate, and he looked more pale than usual.

you suggested, “tama, do you wanna shower and then head to bed? we don’t have to stay up late just because it’s friday.” 

“sure, honey. that sounds nice,” he yawned, holding his head in his hands.

“i’ll clean up dinner and meet’cha in our room, okay?”

“okay...” he hopped off of his chair at the counter and made his way to your room to get undressed. within ten minutes, the dishes were done, but you didn’t hear tamaki start the shower. what’s he doing in there? you wondered.

you made your way toward the bedroom, not wanting to startle him or walk in on him changing. you knocked lightly on the door before asking “tamaki? are you okay?” 

when there was no response, you turned the doorknob and quietly opened the door to see your dear tamaki laying on the bed, fast asleep and fully dressed. he must’ve sat down to take off his bottoms and fell asleep. 

poor baby, you thought. i didnt realize he was that tired.

lightly, you walked to the side of the bed where he was lying on his back with his legs hanging off the edge. you moved his bangs away from his face and kissed his forehead sweetly. he looked so peaceful, but he couldn’t sleep in his work clothes. there’s no way that’s sanitary or comfortable. 

“tama, baby. sit up for me so we can take your clothes off and go to bed.”

“mm..” he whimpered, eyes still closed. he didn’t move.

“come on, bub. sit up, please. let’s get some pajamas on, okay?” a pair of pajama pants and an old t-shirt never sounded better to tamaki, even though he was still half-asleep.

“okay...” he sat up and sleepily hugged your torso, putting his cheek to your chest. you stood in front of where he was sitting, and he slowly raised his arms to let you peel off his underclothes and finish getting him undressed. you put the t-shirt over his arms, and he slowly pulled it down over his head and back. next, the bottoms. you grabbed a pair of boxers from his drawer and held them out to him.

“here, tama, put on some clean underwear. yours probably stink.”

“nuh-uh. m’not stinky. m’ just sleepy...”

“i’m just kidding, bub. change quick so we can go to sleep.”

he pulled on his boxers and pair of pajama pants, then got under the soft, smooth covers. you got your pajamas on (a peach-colored t-shirt and some shorts) then flicked off the light and layed down next to him.

his eyes were already shut and he was breathing lightly, so you assumed he was asleep. even though you really missed him this week, you didn’t want to bother him by grabbing his hand or trying to hold him.

“mmph.” he grunted, stirring softly. you didn’t reply, figuring he was just making noises in his sleep. he did the same thing one of the first times you shared a bed, but he was really embarrassed upon hearing about it, so you didn’t bring it up again.

again, he asserted, “mmm!!” but more displeased this time.

“what’s wrong, tama?” you asked. he rolled toward you.

“are you.. are you mad at me?” he asked weakly, desperately hoping that you’d say no. there were sleepy, fearful tears welling in his eyes, but he wasn’t conscious enough to care to hide them.

“not at all, baby, why would i be mad at you?”

“well.. you didn’t.. you didn’t even try to.. you’re not even..” he paused, trying to compose himself. you didn’t interrupt, knowing he’d make his point at his own pace. he always said what he meant eventually.

he continued, “you’re not even holding my hand.. and i just.. really missed you.. and.. i didn’t mean to.. make you upset by being gone this week but i just.. there were so many guys out there.. and i had to help ‘em.. and i’m sorry i didn’t come home until late but--” he couldn’t hold back his tears any longer, his long hours at work rendering him overtired and sensitive. the tears flowed down his face, and you quickly, but softly, reached out to him, bringing him closer.

“oh baby, i’m so sorry. i’m not mad at you.”

“y-you promise?”

“yeah, honey, i promise. c’mere. let me cuddle you.”

you moved over to him, pulling him close. with all the strength he could muster, he wrapped his arms around you, snuggling his head into your neck. you pet his hair gently, soothing him to sleep and reassuring him through soft kisses to his head. his anxiety-fueled cries turned to sniffles, which eventually turned to light snores.

he just really didn’t want to lose you. he didn’t think he could bear to go without you, and you felt the same way. you worried about him terribly while he was out, but never wanted to show him you were afraid for him. you knew he’d take on your emotions and then there’d be two crying lovers. 

you bottled up your emotions until you couldn’t handle it anymore, bursting into tears at the slightest change of tamaki’s tone of voice. these moments of emotional intensity often did end in both of you crying, and nights much like this, where you held each other impossibly close. letting go was out of the question.

—

tamaki was so tired this week because he had what can only be described as, well, a super shitty week, so fatgum gave him the weekend off. their conversation went like this:

“i don’t.. mean to be rude by disagreeing, but i just can’t take the whole weekend off. i need to be out there.. helping you.”

“no way, amajiki. what ya’ need is to rest. you can’t do your best work next week if ya’ don’t take a break this week, so go home and rest and then come back on monday ready to go.”

“but--”

“don’t make me call y/n! they’ll make you stay home!” fatgum warned, knowing you’d do exactly that.

tamaki sighed in defeat, “fiiiiiiine.” you’re the only person he’d willingly lose to, time and time again. if his defeat meant your victory, he was okay with losing.

—

orange is is the color of the terra-cotta pots that hold the herbs you planted on your balcony.

“they’re gonna taste so good once they grow! aren’t you excited?” you asked him, hands covered in dirt.

“yeah, if i don’t forget to water them and kill them first,” he deadpanned, tilting the watering can a bit too far and spilling it all over your shoes.

“tamaki!!” 

“sorry!!!”

—

orange is your perfect creation. it’s the bleeding together of your crimson red tenderness and his frail yellow anxiety. while you’re there to reassure him, and he’s always there to ground you, noticing the details you missed. you compliment each other in a way that creates something so much stronger, and can never be separated.

orange is the feeling in your heart when he says your name, whether he’s reminding you about that event he has coming up, or when he just wants to hear it breathlessly between kisses. he’ll never get enough of them. he’ll never get enough of you. 

orange is the always-growing warmth of his love, and it’s the glowing sparks of fire that fly between you. loving him is easy.

orange is the fluttering of eyelashes as you fall asleep together for the first time, it’s the wholehearted comfort cultivated over time, and it’s the countless pinky promises sealed with kisses. when his heavy heart needs uplifting, you promise to be there. orange is a promise you intend to keep.

—

thanks for reading!

love, tj. 🧋

—

link to my masterlist

[andersunmenschlich]

"Was I Abused" game

Copied and pasted from this post by @furiousgoldfish (to save space since you can't reformat anything in posts you reblog).

Is it accurate? Who knows! My memories of childhood are incomplete! Besides, a lot of these things seem frankly normal to me and not abusive at all... which, if they are abusive, is probably an especially bad sign. Hm. Anyway, on to the game!

Reblog and bold the things your parents have done to you! Italicize if you're not sure. (copy paste it all and then bold)

Physical abuse

parent slapped me to prove their point / teach me a lesson (I don't remember. It would have been loss of temper anyhow, not point-proving or lesson-teaching.)

parent spanked me as a “punishment” saying it was for my own good (Hey, I was raised full-on Michael Pearl TTUAC-style. This is foundational.)

parent pulled on my hair to force me to move

parent threw things at me while angry, things heavy enough to hurt me (Kind of? She and my sister were on my bed, top bunk. I was cowering on the floor. But I dunno if she was angry.)

parent trapped me in a room/corner so I couldn’t escape them (I don't remember. But I do know, in my very bones, that there was no escape from them. You couldn't run. You couldn't hide. And trying would only make things worse.)

parent hit me when I wouldn’t obey them / tried to confront them (To Train Up A Child, people.)

parent used a twig / stick / belt to lash at my body (Again—this is the Pearl technique. My parents broke a lot of wooden paint mixing sticks on me before discovering this whippy plastic rod about the thickness of a pencil! You could sharpen the end in a pencil sharpener, too. They had a ton of those, it seemed like. And a short one for trips outside the house; it fit in Mom's purse.)

parent grabbed me to force me to pay attention to them

parent pinned me down and physically prevented me from escaping (...Yeah. Again, this is the Pearl technique.)

parent brought me into situations where I feared for my life (I—look, it's not like the fears were rational or anything. It's just that the world is terrifying when you're autistic and so much hurts. And have been taught your whole life that "the world" is a terrible, dangerous place that can kill you both physically and spiritually. Yeah.)

parent made it painfully obvious for me that I’ll obey them or suffer injuries (I mean. TTUAC.)

parent threatened to beat me if I wouldn’t do as they say (This was the most basic part of my childhood. Like air. Under what circumstances would this not be the case? Unimaginable.)

parent forcefully fed me something I refused to eat (Does not letting you eat between meals, and putting the same food in front of you at each meal—over and over again until you either eat it or it grows mold—count?)

parent made an attempt at strangling / drowning / burning me

parent banged my head / body into the wall / furniture (To be fair, I hit him first. And it's not like I broke the table when his punch sent me across the room: I didn't hit it that hard. Just busted open the back of my head a bit.)

parent forced me into sexual activities

Emotional abuse

parent called me derogatory names and slurs more than once (Frankly, I'm still reasonably convinced that I am a monster. And evil. And I am definitely a fool, at least biblically speaking. "The fool says in his heart, 'There is no god,'" indeed.)

parent said my name mostly with hatred and scorn in their voice (To be fair, it was my name.)

parent degraded and humiliated me in front of others for fun

parent insulted and devalued something really important to me (I mean, in retrospect, it was dumb. Just a worthless paper model of a house, that's all. It wasn't even that great. I was a little kid, after all. So what if I'd spent all day on it? It was still garbage, really.)

parent deprived me of something that meant the world to me (I don't remember. I genuinely don't remember, but I still have trouble admitting that I care about anything because part of me is terrified that if anyone knows I like a thing they'll have a way to hurt me, and that fear has to have come from somewhere, right?)

parent yelled and swore at me in anger more than once

parent blamed me for things that were out of my control/not my fault (And they do feel bad about this now.)

parent shamed me for my physical appearance

parent guilt-tripped me for not pleasing them well enough (I mean, they tried. But good luck; I have no idea what guilt feels like. I bought a book about it because I was curious.)

parent regarded me as a burden, and shamed me for needing them at all (Hmm. I don't really do shame either. I was a burden, though.)

parent insisted I couldn’t take a joke after I was hurt by their insults

parent never comforted me / got angry if I reached for comfort (Again, to be fair: I'm autistic. I'm pretty sure they were just having trouble with my body language and facial expressions. Why else would they punish me for bad attitude when all I wanted was to be cooed at and fluttered over with the same concern they showed my siblings when they cried about their wounded knees?)

parent punished me for crying / showing fear / showing trauma symptoms

parent humiliated me for showing excitement and happiness

parent subtly let me know that my feelings and my problems don’t matter (They, uh. They don't. My feelings and problems are mine. Why should anyone else care? It's genuinely not their problem.)

parent got angry at me for feeling depressed / angry / tired / suicidal

parent blamed me for feeling depressed / angry / tired / suicidal (Who else's fault would it be? They're my feelings, produced by my body and brain, experienced only by me, in my own head. Dang if I see how anybody else could be to blame.)

parent compared me to cousins / other children to prove how I’m the worst (Dang you, Perfect Second Child. ... Although... in retrospect... that set-up wasn't great for you either, was it. Hm.)

parent decided for me how I feel when it was convenient for them

parent told me that I was crazy / delusional / need to be locked away (I don't remember. It sounds familiar. But I don't. I don't remember.)

parent threatened me with kicking me out / sending me away if I don’t change (Kind of? Does it count if you overhear your parents talking about it in their locked bedroom? Not their fault I was listening at the door, surely. They were genuinely considering it. I can't blame them. I was a terrible child.)

parent refused to accept my sexuality gender / tried to force it to change

parent required me to act normal to protect family’s reputation

parent isolated me from family activities they all enjoy (Nooo, haha, I did that all on my own.)

parent assured me that nobody will ever want me (I mean... "only a mother could love" is a saying for a reason. And if even my own mother couldn't love me, well! I don't remember whether anyone told me this outright. It just seemed... obvious.)

parent insisted that I was lucky and that I could have had it much worse (I could have!)

parent made me responsible for their well-being and made me the caretaker

parent insisted that their harmful acts were all done “out of love” (The subject of love was confusing. "I don't love you," "I hate you," "I have to love you because you're my child, so I love you—but I don't have to like you, and I don't, I don't like you at all" ...it was all very confusing.)

parent demanded I be available for their requests at any time (Well, yes, obviously. To Train Up A Child was very clear about this.)

parent punished me for trying to establish boundaries (Boundaries, boundaries. Hmm. Interesting concept....)

parent destroyed my belongings as a form of revenge (Revenge? I don't know. Consequences, I think it was. For keeping all my favorite toys on my bed, and nesting in them. So obviously they had to be thrown onto the floor. And at my head. Ahaha.)

parent made inappropriate sex jokes and comments in my presence

parent denied doing any of this and insists that all the blame is on me (I'm not sure they aren't right, honestly. As previously noted, I am a horrible person, and I was even more horrible as a child.)

Psychological Abuse

parent kept pointing out my flaws as proofs that I won't achieve anything (Mmm... was it them, or was it me doing this? Seems like they were always telling me how intelligent I was, how talented, how much promise I had. The voices asking why wasn't I doing anything, why couldn't I use the gifts God had given me correctly, why was I wasting it all, I'm the stupidest smart person ever, garbage, can't do anything right, etc., seem to have always come from my own mind.)

parent called me stupid, incompetent, ignorant, while withholding information that I needed to know in order to complete tasks

parent would change their side of the agreement at a crucial moment and then pretend it was obvious from the start

parent stalked me / distrusted me without any reason / invaded my privacy (I'm really not sure. What privacy? A four-bedroom house with twelve people in it has very little room for privacy. And if you have nothing to hide....)

parent attacked my insecurities and vulnerabilities in any argument (Dad's always been very good at this. It's his emotional intelligence, I think. Never been much of a cryer, but he can do it to me every time!)

parent forced me into degrading actions while they watched

parent threatened to leave me

parent regularly accused me of behaving the way they did

parent never acknowledged, praised or approved of my actions

parent always demanded they be acknowledged as right without any proof / explanation (Sort of? They had explanations. It's just that those explanations were often terrible. Not that my parents were aware of that.)

parent insisted that they’re a great parent using financial support as proof

parent insisted that I should be grateful for how good they are to me (Keeping me safe from the world! The evil, dirty, disgusting world, full of immoral monsters! Oh, the horrible things that could happen to me without their protection! ...Which is not entirely untrue, I guess. But... I dunno....)

parent gaslit me and tried to make me believe my memories weren’t real if I confronted them with what they did

Neglect

parent didn’t notice I haven’t been eating properly (Frankly, I preferred that. I never much cared for being forced to eat things that made me feel sick.)

parent didn’t notice I was sick / didn’t care for me while I was sick

parent didn’t notice I was injured (Eh. After the first few years of my life, that suited me just fine.)

parent didn’t notice I didn’t have clothes / shoes I needed for school (I didn't go to school.)

parent didn’t notice I suffered from trauma (Look, it's—it's the autism again, okay? Living in a world that hurts you horribly at unpredictable moments is traumatic. I didn't know it was trauma. I just thought it was life. So how could they have known?)

parent didn’t notice I was anxious and stressed (Oh, they noticed that.)

parent didn’t notice I was depressed (Once again—I didn't realize. So how could they? I'm really not sure this counts.)

parent didn’t notice I was cutting myself (Whipping myself, actually. With tree branches. Until the skin broke. Hmm, that was when I was in my early teens, though—as a kid I used to turn a little wooden rocking chair upside down and throw myself into the sharp ends of the rockers. To be fair, they might have noticed. Just... who really cares? I was a rough and tumble kid. Scrapes and bruises and cuts and what-have-you were to be expected. Anyway, there was no cutting; I never cut myself.)

parent didn’t notice I was suicidal (I wasn't. I'm not. I won't be. Mind over matter. Ha.)

parent didn’t notice I was being sexually abused

parent didn’t notice I was being bullied

parent failed to get me medical attention when it was needed

parent failed to teach me the very basics of self care

parent didn’t seem to notice any of my needs and feelings except the absolute minimum I required to survive (Uh. Anything more than the absolute minimum you require to survive isn't a need. You need to survive. Do you really need anything else? I mean, it's nice, a definite plus, but....)

when I notified them of these things, they denied it, accused me of lying, decided it wasn’t happening and/or blamed me for it

Financial Abuse

parent made me feel ashamed for needing money

parent made me feel like I was a financial burden to them (But I was. Come on, now. There's no way honesty counts as abuse. ...Is there?)

parent only gave me minimal money to survive (I don't—there were kids out there getting money from their parents? I mean, they're giving you clothes, food, and shelter already. What for would you need money? I must be missing something.)

parent made sure I never have a decent amount of money on me (Again—I never had that much money. Quarters from the Tooth Fairy: that was it. Money from birthday cards or whatever went in the college fund under their bed. "For your future." And I raided that stash later to buy books anyhow.)

parent took the money I earned from me

parent used the money to blackmail me (if you continue this way let’s see who will pay for your bus ticket!)

parent insisted since they “pay for my stuff” they have the right to control my behaviour and actions (and attitudes. Is this, um. Is this not true?)

parent had enough money for luxury but kept me without anything

parent refused to get my medicine / get me medical attention because it’s too expensive while they got everything for themselves (Nah, they didn't visit the doctor either.)

parent would keep me anxious over if they would pay my expenses or not

parent would make me do as much work for them as possible before they would pay for a necessity

parent kept me in the dark over family finances even when I was of age (Was that them, though? Or was that me? It's difficult to know what's going on with your money when you can't go outside during the day—so no bank visits—and you don't have the password to your bank account because you never asked for it, so you can't do anything online. Which was just as well, because my laptop was... not great. Almost certainly terribly insecure.)

parent would make sure I never have enough money to escape them

If you bold more than 5 things, you have been through abuse. For some particular ones, even one true thing on this list means you’ve been badly harmed by your parents. Also this list is not complete, there are many more abusive behaviours not listed here, feel free to add!

[allmygyus]

＊*✩Unrequited Love✩*˚＊

can we talk? (34/?)

[ prev : masterlist : next ]

wordcount: 1,953 !! warnings: mentions of anxiety, a lil angsty 

You opened the door to and see Soonyoung standing with one hand in the pocket of his hoodie and the other holding a white plastic bag. He looked at you sullenly. You ignore the aching in your chest and reply with a blank stare and took a few steps to allow him to come inside. Although your feelings were still a mess, one thing was sure. You were upset with him. He took off his shoes and you walked away as he shut the door behind him. He placed the plastic bag on your kitchen counter and sat on the edge of your couch.

Soonyoung was a bit flustered and nervous because he knew he was at fault. He watched you sit behind your desk and continue to paint. Thoughts spiraled in his head. Should he approach you? Would you get angry at him if he disturbed you while painting? Should he just apologize and leave? How could he fix the gap between the two of you?

He cautiously stood up from the couch and made his way behind you. As he lifts his hand to tap your shoulder you speak.

“I said I didn’t want to talk to you,” you say with your back still facing him. You saw his reflection from the glass that held your paint brushes.

“Y/n I-,” he utters but was interrupted by you slamming your paintbrush on your desk, causing him to jump at the loud thud. He didn’t expect it to be this tough to make amends with you. Soonyoung so badly wanted to apologize and fix things with a hug. He also wanted to tell you why he reacted that way and how by the past few weeks he had developed feelings for you, but he couldn’t.

You took your earphones and shoved them in your ears playing loud music so that you couldn’t hear what he would say.You were being childish and you were aware of that but, it truly hurt you how one minute he would be the cause of butterflies in your stomach and migraines the next. It just made you more frustrated and confused.

Soonyoung stood behind you, debating in his mind about what his next move should be. He was growing frustrated as well, by your childish actions, but this time he was in the wrong so he had to subside the frustration that grew.

Soonyoung looked out the window and wondered if he should go home instead but saw the heavy snowfall and realized he had no choice but to stay here and wait for the snow to stop. He just couldn’t bare to be in the same room with someone who he really cared for but was on bad terms with. He just wanted to fix the mess he’s made.

You on the other hand just wanted to ignore him. Not just him but Mingyu as well, even though he wasn’t at fault. You figured that the less you interacted with them, maybe the clearer your thoughts and feelings would be, but it was hard to ignore the person who stood behind you. It was hard to ignore them both, actually. They were your best friends.

Soonyoung took a deep breath and sighed. He waited for you to put your paintbrush down and pick up your phone. Once you did, he pulled the earphones out of your ears and spun your chair around.

“What the hell?!” you yell as your phone was snatched from your hand.

“Listen, I can’t stand being in the same room right now and not talk to my bestfriend,” he bent over and put his hands on your knees.

“Okay, I’ll be in my room then,” you shoved his hands off and made your way to your bedroom.

Soonyoung grabbed your hand and pulled you away from your bedroom door and quickly pushed you to sit on the couch.

“Soonyoung, I swear to-“ you say as you stand up but was blocked by him sitting on your lap like a child. He was getting desperate and this was the only way he could keep you from moving. He sat on you as if you were Santa and he was a child about to tell you what he wanted for Christmas.

“I won’t get off until you listen and let me talk,” he said while clinging on your shoulders. As much as you pushed and shoved him, the man-child would not budge. His annoyingly proud smirk just made you more irritated yet you give in.

“Okay fine,” you cross your arms.

“Do you promise to stay here and listen?” you huff and nod in reply. It’s not like you had a choice anyways. He nodded, sat next to you and crossed his legs to face you. You do the same but kept your arms folded and head down.

“I’m sorry,” he placed a hand on your knee. You look up at him and tilt your head.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole and picking a fight with you,” he said genuinely. You unfolded your arms and listened to him.

“I was being that way because I was just stressed about the whole dance crew auditions and Seungcheol auditioning with the others. I spent the whole weekend thinking about what I should do and I just kinda wished you were at practice earlier today because only you can ease my mind. Not seeing you there just-,” he sighed and paused. “I was being an idiot that let out my anger on my best friend. I was wrong for that and I’m sorry.”

An uneasy silence filled the room as he waited for your reply.

“Yeah, you were an asshole,” you scoffed. “You know Soonyoung, you’re not the only one who’s going through things. I have a lot going on too but you don’t see me being an asshole to my friends.”

“I know, Kiddo-,” he says.

“I was having a rough day too! Heck, I’ve been having a hard time lately. Balancing my academic requirements with my other responsibilities! But I never lashed out on any of you!” you raise your voice.

“Y/n,” he placed his hands on yours, trying to calm you down but you shoved him aways again and stood up.

“God, Soonyoung! You have no idea what I’ve been going through,” you run your fingers through your hair and pace back and forth the living room. It was hard and it was the first time you had felt this much anxiety and anger altogether. From your undecided feelings to your never ending list of academic responsibilities. You chose this but couldn’t help but feel pressured. He stood up and faced you to listen to what you had to say.

“The last thing I needed was for you, my best friend, to get angry with me over a little misunderstanding,” you sigh.

To others it may seem like small bickering through chat, but for you it was a big deal; you were a sensitive person. You were never one to fight and argue with others, especially your best friends, and he knew. You weren’t the type of person to be mad too. Much like Soonyoung, you tried to stay cheerful despite everything else that happened in your life.

Being angry or upset was something you were not used to. It was out of your character and, most of the time, being angry would lead you into tears. When Soonyoung fought with you, you were at your breaking point. All the stress from your responsibilities and the frustration of developing feelings for two of your best friends just caused you to bottle it all up and deflect. Deflecting on your problems only made it worse. Your thoughts spiraled, the weight on your chest got heavier, and you were just out of it. You were thankful because when you were at Jihoon’s studio, you were able to relieve some of the bottled up emotions but a part of you still felt trapped. You weren’t able to release all the emotions and feelings that you had bottled up in front of them and you didn’t know why. Maybe because you cried first before you could tell them everything, you weren’t sure.

And now, you weren’t sure of what to say or do to the person in front of you.

“I know and I’m truly sorry,” he walks towards you. You stay still as he holds your hands. You chewed on your bottom lip and felt the lump in your throat form. No, not infront of Soonyoung. You knew that if you dared open your mouth, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crying.

So instead you nod your head, telling him that you forgive him. He then quickly assesses the situation but hesitated.

“Y/n I- Are we- We’re okay now, right?”

You nod again in reply and he engulfs you in a warm hug. He figured that it wasn’t the right time to tell you how he felt. He just had to be there for you right now because he now knew about your other problems in life. His feelings for you was the least of his worries right now.

You on the other hand, while being embraced by Soonyoung’s arms, felt at peace. His arms provided a sense of comfort and serenity. Sinking deeper in his arms, you breathe out and the bottled up emotions were set free. Once the first tear fell, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. You sobbed in his arms and tightened your grasp on his jacket. The more you deflected on your problems, the more you felt trapped and the heaviness in your chest increased. As he stroked your hair while you cried, the heaviness was gone and you felt more like yourself again.

As he held you in his arms, he realized how he deeply cared for you. He wished that it was always him who would be the one to hold you while you cried and never again the reason for your tears. In that moment his arms squeezed you a bit tighter and despite the heaviness in his stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of your bodies so close together. Your touch made him feel warmer and more alive.

As your tears came to a stop he released you from his grip to have a look at your face. Puffy and red with swollen lips and eyes.

“Y/n,” he whispered and you look up at him. He sweeps the strands of hair that stuck to your face.“You look terrible.”

You let go and smack him in the arm as he bursts into small giggles.

“We just made up and you’re bullying me already?”

“I’m kidding,” he quickly pulls you back into his arms. The sudden action causing your heart to skip a little.

“Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

“I brought chicken,” he let you go and walked to your dining area. “We can watch movies and eat if you want.”

You nod and he brings the plastic bag to your coffee table. The two of you spend the night talking, eating, and laughing with the movie was playing in the background. He told you his problems about the dance crew and how he decided to have Seungcheol and the others back. He wanted to move forward and maybe even make amends with them again. You tell him how Seungcheol would talk fondly about him and how the others felt bad about how their friendship ended. The two of you listened to each other tentatively the whole night as you shared your troubles, except for having feelings for each other of course, and eventually fell asleep on the couch together.

Summary: ⤑ Soonyoung, Mingyu, Seokmin and y/n. It’s always been the four of them and y/n wouldn’t have it any other way. Y/n loved the three of them but she loved one differently. It’s their third year of college and y/n’s been debating whether she would tell the one she loved how she truly felt but would it be worth risking their friendship over? Along the way she struggles to realize what it is she truly wants.

Pairing: ⤑college student y/n x ??

taglist: @sunshineshouchan @dy-mglzz @suhfluffy @muhanuibean @itsdnguyenxoxo @unmanageable-day @ash-moon8 @444wjh @fluffyhyeju @skylions-den @cheolright @monstathedisco @samemagicpoint

[hale-13]

State of Grace

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 28 Prompt - Display and

Identity Reveal Bingo Prompt - “Were you ever planning to tell me?”

Peter can do this. It’s just high school and he’s only been on the run from the American government for the whole summer. He can do this.

Words: 2220, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter Parker & Ned Leeds, Peter Parker/Michelle Jones, Peter Parker & Happy Hogan

Characters: Peter Parker, May Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, Happy Hogan, Flash Thompson

TW: Mild Panic, Angst

Read on AO3 or below line break.

“Are you okay?” May asks him, leaned against the frame of his open door, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand and a silk robe knotted shut over her pajamas.

“Sure. I’m fine,” Peter says and holds back a wince – he doesn’t even believe himself. He continues to fiddle with the new notebooks he’s shoving in his ratty book bag, fraying and stained from his summer on the run. May offered to get him a new one but he had – stupidly – declined. And, yes, he regrets it now.

The look May levels him with is one of disbelief but he chooses to ignore it in favor of completely unpacking and repacking his bag, shoving his suit into the dark recesses and trying to ignore it. He hasn’t been out as Spider-Man since… well anyway he doesn’t really use his suit as much anymore but he can’t stand to not have it with him. He hasn’t told his SHIELD assigned therapist that yet but he can imagine what she would say.

It’s not pretty.

“You look real fine,” May tells him in her no nonsense way but then her face softens. “You know you don’t have to do this right sweetie? You can home school if you want?”

Peter’s fingers tap a staccato rhythm against his pants leg and he clenches his fist tight enough to turn his knuckles white to stop it. “I know May,” he says. He did consider it for a while but he genuinely loved Midtown and he wanted to have a normal senior year with Ned and MJ; apply to colleges, go to prom and on dates with MJ, graduate. He wanted to get into MIT just like Mr. Stark and share a dorm with Ned and just… be normal.

May lets out a sigh and enters the room, setting her cooling coffee mug on his desk and untangling his fingers from the strap of his bag before pulling him into a warm hug. Peter melts into her and reaches his arms up to hug her back gently. He loves her more than anything and he absolutely hates what he’s put her through. He hates that she can’t work at FEAST anymore, that she basically has to have a bodyguard with her everywhere she goes because of him. That all of her friends have alienated her except for Pepper Potts who lives over two hours away and can’t really visit.

“It’s going to be okay Petey,” she tells him softly as she rocks them back and forth using his childhood nickname and making tears well in his eyes. He’s already cried twice in the last twelve hours so he needs to dry it up or he’s going to look like even more of a mess when he gets to school. “I believe in you and I know you can do it but just know you can leave at any point okay? Remember the meeting with Morita? Just ask and you can leave.”

“I know,” Peter says into her hair – it smells like her favorite jasmine shampoo and the familiar scent is comforting. “I’ll be fine.”

A knock sounds at the door ending their embrace and May looks at her watch and frowns. “Happy’s early,” she mutters, grabbing her coffee cup and shuffling to the door. “Finish packing!” She calls over her shoulder and Peter haphazardly shoves the rest of his things into his bag so that he can join her in the living room as she opens the door and lets out a soft ‘oh’.

“Ned?” Peter says, confused at seeing his best friend in the hallway outside his front door smiling a massive smile. “MJ?” His girlfriend stands next to Ned looking just as bored and unaffected as usual except for the slightly faintly look in her eye that he knows means she’s nervous. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you honestly think we were going to let you rejoin society completely on your own?” MJ asks with a raised eye brow and a smirk.

“Yeah Peter what do you take us for?” Ned jokes, walking through the open door and giving May a quick hug as she closes the door behind them.

And, yeah, here come the waterworks again Peter thinks as he sniffs wetly. Ned and MJ had both spent most of the summer on the run with him or hiding in Dr. Strange’s weird house and he knows today is just a big of a deal for them as it is for him and he never would have thought that they would… he sniffs again and wipes his eyes. “Thanks,” he says sincerely, choked up as he pulls them both in for a hug.

Ned returns the hug, now just as emotional but he can basically feel MJ’s eye roll as she returns his hug. “I can’t believe you actually thought we weren’t going to be here after everything loser,” her voice is fond and Peter squeezes her just a bit tighter. “Besides, I want to see the look on Flash’s face – he has such a massive crush on Spider-Man that his face will make a great addition to my ‘In Distress’ series.”

Ned and Peter both laugh and Peter releases them both. He revels in the warmth for just one more minute before he sobers to say “You don’t have to do this. It could put a target on your backs and I don’t want you to get hurt.” Ned and MJ share a commiserating look with each other before leveling Peter with twin glares and he holds up his hands in surrender. “Just checking!”

He had tried to break ties with both of them when he left at the beginning of the summer but was told, under no uncertain terms, that he wasn’t allowed to make their decisions for them. MJ’s impassioned speech had also contained a thirty minute detailed history of women’s rights and how chivalry was just another way men belittled them and Peter really couldn’t love her any more if he tried.

Before either one of them got the opportunity to lecture Peter again there was a brief knock at the door before Happy opened it and walked in, studiously avoiding looking at May who was fighting a smile of her own. They had been on-again-off-again for months and Peter really didn’t want to think about it. “Hey Happy!” He said, going for bright but falling short and flat. Graciously, no one pointed it out.

“Didn’t know I was chauffeuring half of your school,” he grumbled and Peter’s smile became more genuine – Happy liked to pretend to be gruff but they all had his number – he was super soft and gooey on the inside. “You ready to go?”

Was he ready to go? No, not really, but he needed to so he just nodded, tightening his bag straps around his shoulders and turning to pull May into another quick hug. “I’ll see you after school,” she whispered into his ear with another quick squeeze before moving on to repeat the gesture with Ned and MJ. “Have a good day!” She told all of them as Peter slipped his hand into Michelle’s and followed Happy to the elevator. One of the two SHIELD agents that were constantly stationed outside his apartment followed behind them as unobtrusively as possible but it still made Peter’s skin crawl.

Nick Fury – the real one, not the Skrull (holy shit an actual shape-shifting alien!) that Peter had met in Europe – had assigned he and May a full security detail once he had been cleared of all charges. Peter had hoped they would be gone by the time school started but Fury was nothing if not cautious and Peter had to accept that they would probably be following him for most of the school year. At least he had managed to talk Fury and Hill into keeping them outside the school so he wasn’t being followed by a bunch of guys in suits to all of his high school classes.

“You good kid?” Happy asked once they had slipped into his town car and pulled away from the curb, Peter sitting in between Ned and MJ and a SHIELD vehicle following closely behind them as they navigated the Queens streets.

“Yep. I’m good. Great. So good,” Peter rambled, ignoring the heavy looks MJ, Ned and Happy all shared.

“You sound great,” Happy said sarcastically, flicking his eyes back to the road. The rest of the car ride to Midtown was filled with oppressive silence as Peter’s heart rate ratcheted up higher and higher the closer they got until it felt like it was pounding in his chest when they pulled into the parking lot. The group of four SHIELD agents behind them all left their SUV and ignored the curious stares of the mass of teenagers milling in front of the school as they disappeared into the masses.

“You ready to go Tiger?” MJ asked, taking Peter’s hand and squeezing it again.

Peter gulped, his mouth and throat suddenly dry. “Sure,” he croaked out.

“Dude,” Ned muttered. “You don’t have to do this; you know that right? You don’t have anything to prove.”

“I know,” Peter agreed. “But I need to do this.”

Ned studied his intently for another moment before nodding once. “Then lets go.”

The yard fell completely silent for about ten seconds when Peter exited the car, flanked by Ned and MJ, before everyone started furiously gossiping and pointing at him. Perter felt his cheeks heat up and he ducked his head. “Ignore them,” MJ said, grabbing Ned’s hand with her free one and pulling both of them forward. The crowd parted for them, staring at Peter like he was on display but no one dared to risk MJ’s wrath and approach them.

The hall’s were just as crowded when they stumbled through the front doors but the flood of students inside must have already heard about their arrival since they were, with the level of failed surreptitiousness that only teenagers could achieve, taking pictures and videos of Peter’s entrance into the school. He could feel his face paling and he let his eyes glaze over and go out of focus as his breath quickened.

“Don’t,” MJ said, pulling him along to his locker. “Get your chin up,” she hissed at him, “they’re piranhas, don’t show weakness.”

“Don’t show weakness,” Peter said weakly, feeling a little faint. “Right.”

“Back off,” he heard Ned say angrily to a group of juniors who were approaching Peter with hungry expressions and phones out. “Don’t you have a class to get to?”

“Clear the halls!” Mr. Harrington called from outside his classroom. “Home room starts in two minutes! Get a move on!” He caught Peter’s eye and winked at him as he started herding the unruly groups along and Peter felt something settle in his just a little.

‘Come on Spider-Man,’ He said, cracking his neck a bit and trying to hype himself up. ‘Come on Peter. They’re just people. You’ve got this.’ He rolled his shoulders back and kept walking, trying to put more confidence in his step and ignoring the surprised faces of his friends as he pushed through the crowd to his locker.

Ned split off to head a little further down the hall to get his own things but Michelle opened the locker next to his and gave him a self-satisfied smile. “That was hot,” she told him with a ridiculous wiggle of her eye brows and he let out a loud laugh, giving her a fond look as he stowed his gym bag and slammed the door shut.

“I’ll have to keep it up then,” he said, trying for confident and focusing on her slightly chapped lips. He really wanted to kiss her.

She snorted and grabbed his hand again. “Later Tiger,” she promised. “But only if you make it through the whole day.”

He grinned back at her, finally settling and ignoring all the people watching them. “How could I not with a promise like that?”

Ned had just joined them when, out of nowhere, Flash planted himself directly in their path, leveling an angry glare at Peter opening and closing his mouth a few times before finally just pointing at him.

“Yes Flash?” Peter asked, confused and tilting his head to the side at his frenemies odd behavior. Flash let out a growl of frustration.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he finally said.

“Uh…” Peter said, taken aback a little. “Yeah? Old news right?”

“You’re Spider-Man,” he said again, sounding beyond angry and yanking at his slicked back hair, mussing it. “You actually let me… I’m Spider-Man’s biggest… you let me call you penis!”

Ned snorted, his face turning red from trying to contain his laugh and even MJ looked a little smug. Perter just smiled. “And?”

Flash dropped his hand, looking crestfallen. “We’re you ever planning to tell me?”

“It’s called a secret identity for a reason Flash,” Peter pointed out and Flash rolled his eyes.

“Fair point I guess,” he agreed, hitching his bag up his shoulder. “See you at lunch Parker.”

Peter stared after him, bemused. “Did that just happen?”

“Oh yeah,” Ned cackled. “And I filmed it!”

Peter laughed and started walking again just as the first bell rang. Maybe he could do this after all.

[twomoonstwosuns]

comfort.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warnings: angst, swearing, age gap (reader is over 18)

word count: 3.0k

a/n: this one hurts a little bit, but don’t worry we’ll get back to fluffy and smutty real quick. feedback very welcome and very much appreciated.

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

Your thumb hovered over the little blue arrow on your phone. It was late, but you wanted to see him…needed to see him.

You knew Poe would be able to take your mind off of the day you had and, though you were very aware that it was a temporary fix, you hoped he could tire you out enough where you could come back to your apartment and just crash. He, unlike your roommates, didn’t know anything about the situation, so you knew he wouldn’t try to make you talk about it and be concerned when you didn’t want to.

Fuck it, you thought as you hit send, asking him if he was awake. As you waited for a response, you tried to come up with a back-up plan in case he wasn’t available. Perhaps your own touch to the memory of that day in the hotel room could tire you out. It wasn’t going to be as good as Poe, hadn’t been since you started seeing each other, but it was better than nothing. And it would make you sleepy.

Your phone vibrated where it lay on your stomach, and you felt some of the weight evaporate when you saw it was Poe and that he was very much awake. You texted back and asked if you could come over. The text screamed desperation, but he was truly the only thing you wanted at that particular moment. You almost started crying again when he texted you back a ‘yes’. You rushed to put your shoes on and grabbed your keys, tiptoeing through the apartment to not wake your roommates.

“Let me guess, late night booty call?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin. Karé sat at the kitchen table, working on something on her laptop. You felt like a teenager again, getting caught sneaking out of the house.

“I know it’s not the greatest coping mechanism, but…you and Jess asked me earlier if I needed anything and, well, this is it.”

“I’m not judging you.” Karé said, and you knew she was being genuine. “I just want you to feel like you can talk about it.”

“I know I can. And I probably will tomorrow once I’ve slept. But my mind is reeling right now and I know I won’t be able to sleep unless I get my mind off of it. And this is a good way to do it.”

“Just be safe.”

“I always am.”

You were so appreciative of your friends. They hadn’t judged you when you started your friends with benefits relationship with Poe. Granted, they didn’t know it was your professor you were sleeping with, but they never judged you for starting a strictly sexual relationship. You still had no idea if you would ever tell them it was Poe.

Freezing rain was coming down heavy and it wasn’t until you were halfway to Poe’s apartment that you realized you had forgotten a coat, the only barrier between you and the cold being a lightweight sweatshirt. Your sweatshirt was soaking wet and you shivered in the doorway, thankful Poe didn’t make you wait too long before buzzing you in.

The minute Poe opened his door, you launched yourself at him. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you kissed him sloppily with everything you had. He was taken aback, but matched your ferocity when his brain caught up with his actions.

“You ok?” He muttered against your lips, having to take a second to breathe as you nearly knocked the breath out of him. You nodded as you took a step back, whipping your shirt over your head.

“Bad day,” you said breathlessly. “Need a distraction.”

Poe caught you when you came at him again, your skin ice cold beneath his hands. He guided you back towards the couch, taking control of the kiss by sliding his tongue into your mouth. The way his fingers brushed against your skin as he caressed your bare back and the way he was devouring you was the best feeling you had felt all day. The sudden excitement of knowing he was going to make you feel so good brought all of your emotions back up to the surface. Tears gathered in your eyes and you forced yourself to stop relishing in the feeling of bubbling emotion, instead distracting yourself by unbuttoning Poe’s shirt.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Poe pulled away suddenly when he felt wetness on his cheeks and looked at you with a frown. He placed his hands on your arms, pushing you back enough to see that tears had started streaming down your face. “What’s going on?”

“I’m fine.” You leaned in to kiss him again, but he stopped you.

“You’re crying.”

It was then you acknowledged the wetness on your cheeks. You sighed in annoyance and wiped the trail of water the tears left behind.

“I had a bad day that I just want to forget. I need you to distract me.”

Your hands grabbed onto Poe’s shoulders as you kissed him again, but once again he pulled away. He gently grabbed your wrists and lifted them from his shoulders.

“Not like this.”

Heat flooded your cheeks. You were embarrassed. Poe hadn’t rejected you before and it hurt more than you realized it could. Your next breath shuddered and you hoped that Poe missed it, but the way his eyes studied you told you he didn’t.

“Fine.” You pulled your wrists out of his grasp and stepped around him. “Forget it.”

“Y/N…”

From your anger and sadness to rejection by the person you sought out, everything was beginning to feel like too much. You picked you shirt and keys up off the floor when Poe grabbed your wrist again.

“Y/N, wait—“

“It’s fine, Poe.”

“No, it’s not.” There was finality in his tone, like he wasn’t going to back off until you heard what he said. “I’m not having sex with you when you’re this upset.”

You looked anywhere but at him, stupidity now joining your flurry of emotions.

“But I can’t let you leave like this,” he said as he took your keys from you. “Something’s clearly going on, you’re not in the right state of mind, and you’re going to freeze.”

As if on cue, a shiver ran up your spine and you became aware you were still half naked.

“Stay for a little bit. I’ll get you a warm shirt and throw yours in the dryer.” Poe let go of your wrist. “You don’t have to talk about whatever’s wrong if you don’t want to. You can just hang out here until you feel better.”

Feel better, not calm down. He wasn’t telling you to just get over it and get out. He was sincerely concerned and would let you stay until you could get home safely.

“Ok.”

Poe took your sweatshirt disappeared for a moment. He brought you a black hoodie that reached your mid-thigh when you slipped it on. It smelled like him and it eased you. He nudged you towards the couch, ordering you to sit while he got you something to drink.

You heard soft clicks rush across the hardwood floor and then Beebs was on your lap, attacking your face with kisses. You managed a small smile and a weak laugh as he licked everywhere he could reach. You made yourself comfortable, propping your feet up on the coffee table and allowing yourself to melt into the comfort of the couch. Your attention was on Beebs as you focused your breathing.

Beebs curled up next to you and rested his head on top of your thigh, his eyes closing in content as you scratched the top of his head. Poe appeared in front of you, holding a glass of water and a bottle of whiskey. You grabbed the glass of water, and he set the bottle down on the table as he sat down.

“Are you okay?”

You shrugged absentmindedly, yes and no. You heard Poe suck in a quiet breath, hesitant whether let it out with a string of words or not. He wanted to ask you what happened. Instead, he reached for the remote, thinking a bit of white noise would help get rid of the tense silence. You tensed. This was foreign territory for the two of you. You fucked and you chatted, but not about anything deep or personal. You didn’t even cuddle in the afterglow. Lingering touches or your legs draped across his was the closest you ever got to adding intimacy to your hookups.

“Six months ago, my dad walked out,” you spoke slowly, bringing Poe’s attention back to you. The story was familiar as it left your lips, yet it felt foreign to you as you carefully weeded through every detail. You didn’t look at him, instead focusing on running Beeb’s soft hair through your fingers. “He just up and left without a word. No call, no text, no letter…nothing.”

You expected Poe to start asking questions, but he was silent, allowing you to carry on at your own pace. And you felt comfortable doing so. You turned your body to face him as he did the same, opening up a safe space for this conversation.

“Twenty-eight years of marriage and he just left. Turns out he was sleeping with his secretary.” You let out a dry laugh. “How cliché, right? My sister Tallie and I blamed ourselves for weeks. It seems silly, but we wondered if we were such terrible kids that we did something that set him off and he just got fed up with us.”

Poe shifted uncomfortably. He was holding back words of anger on the tip of his tongue.

“And my mom…” you continued, running your free hand through your hair as if mustering up the courage to go on. “She stayed strong for us, but I can still vividly remember how hard she cried when she was alone in their room. I can’t imagine the kind of pain she went through.”

You wiped a stray tear and sniffled. That was enough to catch Beeb’s attention and he moved from his spot between you and Poe to the middle of your lap, his head resting in the crook of your arm. Poe’s arm stretched across the back of the couch, and he resisted like hell to reach his fingers out and touch your hair.

“We did eventually hear from him,” you continued. “A couple of days later he had his brother come and tell us that he ‘needed some time’. Two weeks later, he stopped by the house and told my mom he wanted a divorce. Tallie was working and I was at a friend’s cabin that week, so we didn’t actually get to talk to him. The divorce was finalized just before Thanksgiving.”

This was the most vulnerable you’d felt in a long time. But you felt safe, like even if you broke down and cried as hard as you had earlier that everything would be ok. Poe did that for you. You don’t know when it happened, but his presence, without any of the emotional stuff attached, had become a source of comfort for you.

“You know we actually thought he was dead?” Your voice cracked as you met Poe’s eyes for the first time since you sat down on his couch. His heart broke for you. He knew the feeling of having a deceased parent and wouldn’t wish that kind of pain on anyone. “That’s how long it was before anyone heard anything from him. My sister actually suggested filing a missing persons report with the police.”

Poe listened intently, but the internal battle in his head was growing louder the more you spoke. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into his embrace, whisper everything was going to be ok as he ran his fingers through your hair. The only time he got to hold you like that was while he was inside you and lately he felt like it wasn’t enough for him. He wanted more of that, more of you, and it scared him a little bit how attached he was getting.

“Is that who you were talking to today?”

He spoke so softly you barely heard him. The look in his eye wasn’t pity like you half expected. It was sadness that matched your own mixed with disbelief, like he couldn’t believe this story you were telling was true. You nodded.

“Today was the first time I’ve spoken with him since he left. He wanted to explain what happened, why he left. I turned him down. Months and months of nothing from him, having to hear everything through my mother or his siblings…I just didn’t want to hear it.” You sniffled. “Everything I had worked sohard to compartmentalize just came out all at once.”

Your head fell back against the cushion with a quiet thump. Poe reached out and stroked your hair before he could stop himself, and you leaned into his touch.

“Can I do anything?” He asked. You were secretly happy you hadn’t heard an ‘I’m sorry’ from him. The phrase had lost all meaning at this point, having heard it from so many friends and family members. You shook your head.

“No,” you whispered. “This is just fine.”

Silence engulfed the space, but it was much more comfortable than before. Poe continued to stroke your hair with the tips of his fingers, not trusting himself to move any closer. You cherished the moment, your own hand stilling against the sleeping dog on your lap. You didn’t know how long you sat there, the ticking of the clock a cadence in the silence. The beep from the dryer broke through, but neither of you moved.

“Do you want to stay tonight?”

He wanted you to say yes and he wanted you to say no. You gave him a soft smile of appreciation and shook your head.

“I should get back home.” Poe hid the disappointment he felt in his chest from showing on his face, though he knew it was the smarter decision. “But thank you for letting me come over so late. I’m sorry if I kept you up.”

“You didn’t. And it’s ok. I’m glad you’re feeling a bit better.”

You both moved at the same time, both hesitating to do so but deciding it was the best idea. Beebs hopped off your lap, stretching his legs before pattering off to Poe’s bedroom to sleep some more. Poe brought you your sweatshirt, still warm from the dryer. You slipped his sweatshirt off and put yours on, wishing it was three times bigger like the one you just had. Poe handed you your keys and walked you to the door.

You paused, unsure of what to do. Usually when you left he would leave you breathless with a fiery kiss, a promise of next time. This was different. How do you part with your fuck buddy after having a deeply personal conversation?

Poe answered your question for you, placing his hand on your cheek and pressing a long, gentle kiss on your forehead. Your eyes fluttered shut as you savored it, craving the feeling again when he pulled away. You were speechless at the tenderness of the moment.

“Good night, Y/N.”

“Night,” you whispered as you walked out the door, shutting it quietly behind you. You walked a little down the hallway before stopping and leaning against the wall in the hallway.

Your heart was still fluttering, the ghost of his kiss still on your forehead. You nearly turned back to his apartment, wondering if it was too late to change your mind and stay the night. But you didn’t, because that’s not what people casually sleeping with each other did. Your forced yourself out of his building and into your car, the streets as quiet as the night as you drove back to your apartment.

You finally felt the exhaustion creeping up on you as you found your apartment door. You wondered if you should skip your class in the morning and allow yourself to sleep as long as your body would let you, but ultimately decided against it. You wouldn’t allow the emotional turmoil your father put you through dictate your life. Light filtered from the kitchen when you stepped inside and you found Karéin the kitchen making tea.

“You didn’t have to wait up for me.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Karésaid. “Plus, I wanted to wait for you. How’re you feeling?”

“Better…” The end of your statement came out almost like a question, making Karé give you a curious look.

“What? Not good?”

“We didn’t actually have sex,” you said, leaning against the cool door of the refrigerator. “He wouldn’t when he saw how upset I was.”

“What a gentleman.” You chuckled, nodding your head as you wholeheartedly agreed with her. “So, what’s the problem?”

You looked at your hands, twisting them nervously. Everything about the night had confirmed your own suspicions, ones you had had since you saw him over winter break. The next part was being able to finally admit it out loud.

“I think I have feelings for him.”

tag list [open] - @ah-callie @darksideofclarke @gloomygoregirl @leilei-draws @imaginecrushes @i-ievu @brianamaree @yeeintensifies

[nighthaikyuu]

everything reminded me of you | akaashi keiji

pairing: akaashi keiji + best friend! reader 

word count: 1.9k

genre: angst, fluff, friends-to-lovers! au

warnings: slight cursing 

an: a small note but this is actually a rewrite of something I wrote for another fandom that I changed a bit to fit the ~haikyuu world~ 

you were his best friend and he was yours, yet when other people came into your lives’, it seemed like it wasn’t so.

The awkward tension was close to being unbearable, neither of you able to talk, neither of you able to admit just what you were feeling inside. Akaashi and you were sitting down on his couch, all your friends gone as they had decided it was finally time for them to go home. But not you. Your legs simply couldn’t move from where you were sitting and in the end, your heart didn’t want to leave either. The movie from that night still played on the tv, however, at this point, it was just background noise as all you could hear were your nervous heartbeats and the slow, gentle breathing from Akaashi.

You wanted to yell at him, scream at him, question him just why things ended up this way. You wanted to blame him, but on the inside, you knew it was just as much as it was your fault.

“How are you?” you asked softly, breaking the silence. Gaze fleeting towards you, Akaashi looked blankly before staring back down at his clasped hands in his lap, “Fine. You?”

“Good,” you replied, the awkward atmosphere returning yet once again.

Mere seconds passed by, before the two of you finally spoke up, however at the same time.

“How’s Kuroo?”

“How’s Mina?”

Blinking, the two of you looked at each with round eyes, before chuckling lightly, as you gently started to feel the awkwardness dissipate. After all, both of you were best friends.

“Ladies first,” he said smiling lightly, gesturing for you to go ahead.

Pursing your lips together into a tight smile, you looked away from Akaashi’s eyes, the way he was looking at you already making you feel flustered, although the question was one you’d wanted to give him the answer to all along.

“We broke up.” you said casually, pretending to not notice the fleeting look of surprise on his face as he responded, suddenly seeming indifferent, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yea, it’s okay. I broke up with him…” you trailed off, wondering just why you had to add that as if the extra information would make it any different to the boy sitting beside you.

“You?” you asked immediately, clearing your throat, “How’s Mina?”

Chuckling lightly, he gave you a small smile before saying, “It’s funny, she broke up with me too.

This time, it was your turn to be surprised, genuinely surprised.

“A-Akaashi, I like you,” you confessed softly, puffs of cold air escaping your mouth as you looked straight at Akaashi, your heart lightly shattering as he averted his gaze from yours.

“Y/N, you know Mina is—”

“Akaashi” you cried, your fists clenched to your sides, “Don’t lie to me. You said the only reason you were dating her in the first place was that you felt bad for her, that you pitied her. Then tell me why? Why did you kis—?”

“Because now I do like her!” he shot back, his gaze unwavering, “I like her and she needs me.”

“And I don’t?” you whispered, your voice cracking at the end, before Akaashi scoffed aloud, “The last time I saw, you were having a great time with Kuroo, so I don’t really see—”

“Kuroo—God damn it! Akaashi, we’re just friends!” you stressed.

“Well, we were once just friends too, weren’t we?” he yelled back, rendering you speechless, as your lips trembled, your hands shaking as you stuffed them into your pockets.

“So that kiss? That meant nothing to you?” you croaked, your heart taking its final blow when Akaashi looked at you, his eyes emotionless as he replied coldly, his words like bullets, “I’m sorry. But it didn’t.”

Fists clenching in your lap, you bit your lips harshly as the flashbacks came to you. Chuckling, you replied, “Well, that sure is funny, isn’t it?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Akaashi frowned as he turned to look at you, his head cocked to the side as he asked slowly, “What are you trying to say?”

Shrugging nonchalantly, you replied, “Nothing. I guess, I just remembered back when you specifically told me she needed you, so it’s just funny how she was the one to break up with you, isn’t it?” you shot, eyes glaring at him as he met back with the same ferocity you held in your eyes.

“Right, so tell me then, why did you break up with Kuroo?” he bit back, making you scoff lightly, “That’s none of your business-”

“Oh, so me breaking up with Mina is?!” he retorted sarcastically, his eyes blazing with annoyance. You could feel yourself starting to lose it, the composed facade you’d put up all these months slowly starting to fall apart.

“Yes! You know why? You know why I need to know!? Because you decided to choose her over me! You decided to throw away our entire friendship because she needed you. All these years Akaashi, all these damn years who was here for you? Was it her, or me?! Who was there for you when your mother abandoned you, who was there when the kids picked on you at school, who was there and stayed there for the last 10 years, Akaashi?!” you cried, your eyes glistening with tears that threatened to fall any moment, thinking damn it Y/N why couldn’t you just keep it together!

Waiting for him to say even one word, to explain himself to you, you sat there, your breathing heavy from the outburst you’d just had. But seeing him look away, his face contorting into nothing, you stood up from the couch and grabbed your purse, your cheeks stained with tears as you whispered thickly, “Just, forget it Akaashi,” as you made your way to the front door.

Your hands momentarily halted at the coat hanger, fingers barely grabbing your jacket before you rasped, “Akaashi Keiji, you are one terrible person.” Shaking your head, your hand reached for the doorknob, the tears falling faster and faster at this point, you whispered, “And to think I broke up with Kuroo for you—”

“Wait!”

Fingers faltering, you stood there frozen as Akaashi pressed again weakly, “W-wait.”

Turning around, you faced Akaashi who was standing a couple of feet away from you, lips pursed tightly as he stared down at his shoes, a soft sigh escaping his through his lips.

“Akaashi, are you going to say anything or should I just leav—”

“Everything reminded me of you.” he breathed out, you stared at him blankly, your brows furrowed in confusion, “I don’t unders—”

“Everything we did.” he started, squeezing his eyes shut, “When we went to my games, all I could think of was the way you’d cheer me on from the stands. When we went to the movies, all I could think of was how you’d never buy popcorn but through the movie my bucket would be half-empty with you sitting beside me, giving me the cheekiest smile ever. When we hung out at my house, and Mina fell asleep on my shoulder, all I thought of was you and how I wished it had been you instead.” he whispered, his eyes fluttering open as he stared straight at you, his gaze so strong, so emotional, you found yourself going still.

“Akaashi—” you whispered, your hands tightly clutching your purse, “What are you saying?”

“Y/N. I-I love you.”

It was like time froze. You felt yourself stop breathing, his words knocking the breath right out of you that you couldn’t even see straight. The words repeated themselves like a mantra in your head, in the same soft whisper he had said them. Looking down at the ground, you shook your head in denial as you simply couldn’t believe him. You couldn’t even find it within yourself to look up at him, afraid if you did you could see the truth in his eyes, afraid what he had just said was a lie.

“Don’t–Y-You can’t just say that Akaash—” you stammered, your voice trembling.  

Stepping towards you, he grabbed your hands in his, his own shaking as he held them tightly, his fingers intertwining with yours as he whispered, “I’m serious. I’m 100% serious Y/N.”

“Then, why?” you choked out, “I-I don’t understand–Why did you reject me, why did you let me date Kuroo, why?!” you pressed harshly, the tears streaming down your face.

“Because I-I didn’t know it then Y/N! Ever since I was little, someone always left me. First, my dad when he died, then my mom cause she remarried and then when you came along, I thought finally, there’s someone who might just stay but when Kuroo started to show interest in you and the way you two were around each other, I thought differently. I thought you’d leave me!”

“Akaashi!” you cut in, “You know I’d never do that!”

“I know.” he said painfully, “I know, but then I didn’t. When Mina came to me, s-she reminded me of myself, she was lonely and didn’t have anyone and I knew how that felt and it felt like an obligation to be with her. I felt like I had to save her when all long I lost you instead. A part of me died every time I saw you and knew I couldn’t speak to you after that fight, it made me realize that even though Mina may have needed me, I needed you.”

“Akaashi…” you whispered softly, your lips trembling as he stared down at you, his hands reaching up to cup your face as his thumb brushed away the tears, his eyes glistening as he whispered, “I love you so much Y/N, I always have. I just didn’t realize it soon enough and I’m so sorry.”

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you buried your head into his chest as you cried, your fists hitting him softly, “God–I missed you so much, Akaashi Keiji, so much.”

Resting his head into the crook of your neck, you felt his warm breath against your skin, as he replied, “I missed you too Y/N, and I promise I won’t leave you again. I promise.”

As the two of you stood there in each other’s arms, with minutes of silence passing by, it was all you needed to reconcile. No more words would do the deed, just the two of you within each others touch, each other’s grasp and hold, and within each other’s warmth, you knew it would all be okay.

“Stay, please?” Akaashi requested gently, his fingers brushing through your hair as he held pulled you away lightly, before resting his forehead against yours, his brown, eyes staring into yours.

Blinking at him in slight surprise, you stuttered, “Y-You want me to s-stay overnight?”

Smiling at you, he chuckled softly as he brushed your hair behind your ears, the gesture making your heart flutter in your chest as he replied, “Yea, just like old times?”

Beaming, you remembered the days as kids when the two of you would have sleepovers, where neither of you would actually sleep and rather watched movies, ate junk food, and rode of your sugar high till 4 am in the morning.

Quirking your brow, you laughed through the tears, challenging him. “Promise to stay awake with me though?”

Pulling you close to him once again, he whispered as he smiled, his face shining as bright as ever, “Promise.”

tag list: @dadchi-oya​, @captain-janeway​

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[tsuki-chibi]

Blueberry Peach (Adrien AUGreste) Part 16: Plagg

Or read it on AO3: Blueberry Peach

Also find the other parts of the series AO3: Fruitful verse

--------

Marinette found Chloé standing by the concession table. Chloé’s head was bent, and she seemed to be slipping food into her purse. A little smile crossed Marinette’s face as she watched Chloé pick up two cookies and a handful of cheese cubes. No need to wonder where Tikki and Plagg had gone off to, then.

“Chloé?” she said quietly, but Chloé still jumped and nearly knocked a glass of water off the table.

“What? I wasn’t doing anything!” Chloé said, then recovered quickly when she saw who it was. “Oh, it’s you. Did you come for your miraculous?”

“No. I’m still supposed to be –” Marinette jerked a thumb over her shoulder, then self-consciously smoothed down the front of her skirt. It was a little shorter than she usually wore, and she kept thinking that it was going to fly up when she moved.

‘I’d be okay with that,’ Adrien thought. As soon as he’d walked on set, he’d been marched back inside for wardrobe, hair, and make-up. Marinette had been lucky enough to escape all that, as being turned into a gold statue didn’t exactly mess up your hair.

‘I’m sure you would,’ she thought dryly, mentally rolling her eyes at him. The flicker of amusement she got in response was enough to make her smile.

“Oh,” Chloé said again, looking a bit confused. “Your kwami is fine, if that’s what you wanted to know.” She shifted towards Marinette, holding out her purse so that Marinette could peek inside. Tikki and Plagg were seated comfortably inside, both munching away on food – though Tikki set down her cookie when she saw Marinette.

“Marinette! I’m so glad you’re okay!” she cried.

“I’m fine, Tikki,” Marinette said, slipping her hand into the purse so she could give Tikki a quick head rub. Then she scratched Plagg under the chin a couple of times, smiling again when Plagg purred loudly and butted his head against her hand.

“I can hold onto them until the set is done, if you want,” Chloé said.

“That would be great,” Marinette said, withdrawing her hand and looking at Chloé thoughtfully. Chloé had never seemed so uncertain before. She was always confident, even when she was wrong. But she was looking at Marinette like she thought Marinette was going to be mad at her – or, Marinette realized slowly, like she thought Marinette was going to throw a fit because Chloé had temporarily taken over as Ladybug.

That just wouldn’t do.

Without warning, giving Chloé no chance to run, Marinette reached out and hugged her.

Chloé froze.

“Wh-what are you doing?!” she squeaked in alarm.

‘Marinette?’ Adrien thought in surprise at the same time.

Marinette ignored him and answered Chloé, saying, “Thank you for taking care of Adrien, Tikki and Plagg for me when I couldn’t. Thank you for protecting the city. I know the Ladybug miraculous is a heavy weight to bear; I usually have Adrien there with me to help share in it, but he was having a hard time… You did so good, Chloé. I’m proud to call you my friend.”

Because she was.

When had that happened?

‘Mari…’ Adrien thought again, and now his emotions had shifted a lot closer to crying again.

Marinette had to blink back tears of her own. She wasn’t sure when Chloé had become someone that she was just trying to get along with for Adrien’s sake to someone that Marinette actually liked. Because for all of her attitude, Chloé was both dependable and trustworthy. Not many people would have been able to take up the Ladybug miraculous like that with so little prior experience, and even fewer would have been that willing to give it back.

“Uh,” Chloé said, sounding baffled. “Marinette, what are you doing?!” She stood tensely in Marinette’s grip, not relaxing into the hug at all.

“Hugging you,” Marinette said dryly, squeezing tighter. “I know you’re not really used to them, but this is the part where you hug me back.”

“Not happening,” Chloé replied, her arms remaining at her sides.

But she also didn’t pull away.

It was Marinette who finally let go, pulling back to look at Chloé’s face again. “Sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I just wanted to say thanks.”

Chloé was quiet for a moment, just staring at Marinette.

Then she said, “I told my mom she was a spoiled bitch.”

Adrien had just taken a sip of water; he choked.

Marinette’s jaw dropped.

From Chloé’s purse came a cackle of laughter, and then Plagg poked his head up. “I knew I liked you for a reason,” he told Chloé, smirking. Marinette quickly glanced around, but not a single soul was paying them any attention. Everyone seemed preoccupied with cleaning up the set as quickly as they could so that things could resume. Still, she shifted a bit closer to Chloé to better hide the kwami.

And it was a good thing she did, because Tikki’s head emerged a moment later. She was grinning. “Normally I would tell you to respect your elders, but in this case your mother totally deserved it. Good for you, Chloé.”

“She did deserve it. The only reason she got akumatized was because she was acting like a dumb kid. I’m sure it was over something stupid,” Chloé said. “It’s not like she has anything genuine to be upset about.” She didn’t look at Marinette as she spoke, instead staring at the ground.

‘Uh oh,’ Adrien thought once he’d recovered from his coughing fit – and assured his hair stylist he wasn’t choking to death. ‘It sounds like Chloé’s mom said something mean. Again.’

Marinette thought so too, but she didn’t think it was her place to pry. Not yet. Maybe someday she and Chloé would have that kind of friendship where they could really open up to each other, but too much too soon would probably just push Chloé away.

So she said, “Anytime you want to borrow the Ladybug miraculous to tell your mom off, just let me know.”

A small smile crossed Chloé’s face. “Thanks, but I’d rather have the Bee miraculous back. The Ladybug feels weird.”

“Weird? Is that normal?” Marinette asked, looking to Tikki and Plagg. Both of them nodded.

“Everyone is ideally suited for one miraculous over the others,” Tikki explained. “Now you, Marinette, could probably use the Black Cat miraculous without feeling too weird because Adrien is your soulmate, and vice versa. But do you remember feeling strange when you used the Bee miraculous?”

Marinette contemplated that for a moment.

‘I do. I remember the Fox feeling weird,’ Adrien thought. ‘I just thought it was the heat of the moment.’

“Kind of. Adrien does too,” Marinette said finally. “But neither of us had the time to pay any attention to it. We were kind of preoccupied.”

“Yes,” Tikki said darkly, exchanging a look with Plagg. “You were. That makes sense.”

“So anyone can use any miraculous they want to?” Chloé said, looking trouble. “That seems… well, dangerous.”

“It is,” Marinette said. “That’s how Hawkmoth ended up with the Butterfly.” She found herself about to tell Chloé about the missing Peacock miraculous too when someone called her name, and she looked over to realize that they were ready to keep going.

“Good luck,” Chloé said, following her gaze.

“Thanks,” Marinette replied. She hesitated for a moment before going.

‘I don’t think Master Fu would want us telling Chloé about the Peacock,’ Adrien thought as he walked out onto set.

‘Too bad for Master Fu. I’m tired of secrets,’ Marinette thought back, walking over to join him. He grinned at her, in total agreement with what she’d said, and they turned to face the cameras together.

[vannahfanfics]

Can’t Go Back

Category: Angst, Tragedy

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo

Additional Tags: Vigilante! Izuku

The silver moon hung low in the cloudy night sky, just a sliver of white curved down into a thin Cheshire cat smile. Its weak beams failed to penetrate the dark shadows draped over the city. Puddles of deep black coated the quiet buildings and sleeping homesteads like fleece blankets, providing plenty of cover for the unsavoury and haunted souls that wandered the backstreets on lonely nights such as these. It was in these orbs of blackness that Izuku lurked, stalking his prey with all the grace and menace of an attuned predator. 

His emerald eyes focused on the crouched form perched at the back door of the jewelry shop. Metal glinted in the sparse lowlight, reflecting off the thin wire the masked man was using to pick the pair of sturdy locks while Izuku hunched in the darkness, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. The thief spared every few moments to glance around and critically inspect his surroundings; it was obviously not his first heist. Of course, it didn’t matter much to Izuku whether he was experienced or not; all criminals could kill, whether it was their first steal or their hundredth. 

The villain exclaimed a small triumphed “Yes!” as the lock clicked and the back door creaked open. The thief pocketed his thievery tools as he stood up. When he placed the flat of his hand against the door to push it open, that was when Izuku zoomed out of the darkness, green lightning crackling across his body as the energy of his Quirk blasted through his being. 

The villain exclaimed in both in shock and anger as Izuku slammed his cheek against the rough brick wall of the exterior building. Izuku’s elbow jammed down against his cervical vertebrae, placing significant pressure on his trachea from the backside. The villain spluttered and wheezed as his shaking fingers fumbled for the knife in his back jean pocket. He then released an agonized scream as Izuku’s steel-plated boots slammed into it, crushing every bone in his hand against the jewelry store wall. His cries faded into pathetic whimpers and snivels, rising in pitch only when the green-haired young man pressed his bruised and bleeding hand further into the gritty brick. 

“It’s a bit late to be out shopping, don’tcha think?” Izuku purred in the villain’s ear. The steel edge of malice poisoned his almost childishly innocent tone of voice. The burglar whined loudly as Izuku pressed his full body weight into his back, imprinting the groove lines of the brick into his skin. “I’ve got three questions for you,” Izuku growled, his voice dropping an octave. Terrified, the thief nodded emphatically to show he was listening. “Have you ever committed a home invasion?” 

The villain hesitated to answer, worrying his bloodied bottom lip between his teeth. He then bit through the sensitive, plush skin as Izuku slammed the metal-reinforced toe of his boot into the back of his knee, forcing his left leg to crumple when his patella shattered between the force of Izuku’s kick smashing it against the hard brick. A series of loud howls and yowls began to spill from his lips, morphing into gurgles as the red blood streamed down his throat, and Izuku hurriedly smothered his mouth into the palm of his white leather glove. 

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” Izuku cajoled in mock sweetness. “You just answer my questions honestly, and we’ll come to an agreement, yeah? Now, let’s try this again,” he tutted as the burglar stared up at him through wide, watery eyes. “Have you ever committed a home invasion?” When Izuku removed his hand from his mouth, the villain spat out clots of thick red blood. 

“Yes! Yes! I have,” he admitted with a low, mournful groan. Izuku clicked his tongue against his front teeth, making the villain flinch. 

“All right. Next question- have you ever killed anyone?” 

“Nah, nah, man! I ain’t like that, I ain’t like that!” The thief began to blabber desperately. “Look, I stole some TVs and some stereos, and pilfered some jewelry every now ‘n then, but I ain’t never killed nobody!” It was evident that his promises fell on deaf, disbelieving ears, so he switched tactics. “Look man, I ain’t a saint, I know that. I got kids, man! I gotta provide, and I know it ain’t right, but I love my kids, man! I ain’t never killed nobody, man, I don’t my kids’ daddy to be a murderer- a thief, but not a killer, man!” 

Through lidded eyes, Izuku studied the man’s own tearful ones. His irises swam with clear desperation and fright, but so far, the green-haired boy could detect no lie. Izuku clicked his tongue again, but this time in dissatisfaction that it seemed he had yet again failed to find the man he’d been hunting for six months. The man mistook it as an inadequate answer to his question, for he began to sob loudly and plead more profusely. 

“Shut up!” Izuku barked, the villain’s warbling moans irritating him. The villain immediately clamped his mouth shut, bottom lip wobbling. “I have one more question for you. December 23rd, last year, the Red Pine Apartment complex- know anything about it?” Confusion glazed the villain’s eyes as he struggled to search his memory for any useful information for Izuku. Izuku raised an eyebrow when lucidity suddenly flooded his dark irises, and the vigilante wondered if perhaps he’d finally stumbled on a helpful lead. 

“O-oh, man, you talkin’ about that lady that got murdered in the home invasion, right? By that serial burglar? Look, man, that was real tragic, she seemed like a real nice lady; I-I-I read about it in the paper, y’see,” he clarified quickly as Izuku began to take an express interest in his ramblings. “I’m sorry, man, I don’t know nothin’ about it, I swear on my kids’ lives-” 

“Don’t do that,” Izuku scolded harshly. The burglar gulped and nodded in understanding before continuing, his voice soft with what seemed to be genuine sympathy. 

“Look, guy, I get it. That lady was clearly someone to ya. I wish I knew anything that would help you find who did that to her, honest, man. But I’m just a petty thief scrappin’ a livin’ the best I know how. I don’t know nothin’ about no murder. Honest, man.” With a heavy sigh, Izuku’s crushing grip on the man relaxed ever-so-slightly, enough for the thief to breath properly and release a shaky sigh. Izuku was loathed to admit it, but he really did just seem to be a petty thief, not the cold-blooded murderer that he was searching for. Izuku sucked his bottom lip between his lip as he began to mumble nonsensically to himself about his next course of action in his search for his killer. After a few minutes of listening to his whispered rambling, the thief piped up hopefully, “S-so can I go, man?” 

“Absolutely not. You’re still a criminal,” Izuku huffed and promptly slammed the man’s forehead against the wall. The air sang with a sickening crack as blood burst against the brick and hairline fractures spiderwebbed across the front of the man’s skull. The villain immediately fell limp, bending back against Izuku, who just stepped aside and allowed him to slam onto his back against the alley floor. Izuku pulled his newest prepaid cell phone, preparing to dial 9-1-1 to call for the police to pick up the unconscious man. Just as his thumb hovered over the “9” button, his instincts began buzzing with a fervor as they sensed an incoming wave of fury, bloodlust, and betrayal. 

Izuku ignited his Quirk and zoomed down to the end of the alley without even turning to see who was approaching, because he knew. In the space his emerald-haired head had just occupied, explosions bloomed as a hulky, yowling figure leapt down from the nearby rooftop, hands sparking with multiple blasts. Izuku rolled to land and flipped around, crouching down low as he glared daggers at the muscled ash-blond young man hunching over the burglar currently puddling blood against the dirty cobblestone. With the angle of the sparse moonlight, Izuku could see the white puffs of steamy breath as the boy exhaled a savage growl. 

“Deku.” 

The clouds parted, spilling the gleaming white light down to earth. The beams coalesced against the newcomer’s form. They glinted off the vermillion eyes burning within the jagged black mask framing his angular face, highlighted the bright orange bands of his hero suit, and reflected off the smooth metal framing the gigantic gauntlets enclosing his clenched fists. Izuku slowly stood up, flexing his fingers as bright green lightning skittered over his gloves.

“Kacchan,” Izuku replied coolly, deigning to shoot a disdainful sneer at his former friend and classmate. Katsuki snarled and lunged forward threateningly, clearly angered by the fact that Izuku still referred to him by the childhood nickname. Katsuki’s muscles tensed from head-to-toe as he refrained from blasting across the alleyway to pummel Izuku with everything he had. Izuku tilted his head to the side with a click of his tongue. “Where’s the entourage? It’s unusual to see you without Eijirou or Mina,” he questioned casually, tone laced with scathing scorn. 

“Shut up! Stop with the small talk! I left those dumbasses behind because they’ll just get in the way!” Katsuki yelled, hand cutting through the humid night air as his hand flung to the side in a furious gesture. His other fist clenched so tightly that it trembled. “Six months… We’ve been doing this for six months,” he whispered, voice cracking with emotions as his eyes flooded with misery and desperation. Izuku’s eyes widened slightly as a completely shattered expression overtook Katsuki’s usually hard, unforgiving features. “It’s not too late. You don’t have to do this. Come back with me, Deku, All Might can protect you-” 

“I don’t need anyone’s protection!” Izuku shouted. As he slammed his metal-plated boot into the ground, fissures spiderwebbed underneath him, making his body shift as the ground under his feet heaved and distorted. Katsuki scowled viciously at Izuku’s open display of hostility, that scowl so deep that the pink of his gums shone against the whites of his teeth. Izuku’s body quaked as he balled up his fists tight, red streams coursing over his scarred skin as the green sparks jumped all over his body. “I can’t go back. I can’t stop until I know-” 

“You’re mom’s dead, okay?!” As Katsuki’s voice cracked like a whip in the otherwise quiet night air, a cold flush seeped into Izuku’s being, freezing him down to his bones. Katsuki stared imploringly at him, stepping over the still-bleeding petty thief to hold out both his arms placatingly. Though Izuku’s instincts yowled at him to surge forward and clock him in the jaw, he reigned himself in, but only just. “She’s dead,” Katsuki whispered in a ghost of a breath.

 Izuku wasn’t sure if it was just a trick of the fading moonlight or not, but he swore he saw sympathetic tears glinting in the corners of Katsuki’s eyes. “I know you wanna know who did that to her. I know you’re angry. God, Deku, I understand anger better than anyone!” he said, splaying his hand out over his heart as his voice rose with mounting emotion. “But fuck, dude, do you think she’d want this? For you to turn against everything you’ve ever known, everything you’ve ever wanted, and just go on a vengeance spree? Don’t be fucking hypocrite, dude! You remember what happened to Four-Eyes!” 

The memory flooded Izuku’s mouth with bitter acid. He’s right. You had to stop Iida that time. Now here’s Kacchan, trying to keep you from making the same mistakes- Izuku quickly squashed the notion, hardening his heart once more before he slipped away from his path. I can’t stop until I know. I can’t stop until the person that did that- His breath hitched in his throat with the coming of horrid visions, flashes of arcs of blood splashed over the walls and floors, of overturned furniture and broken glass, of ingredients for a home-cooked meal still laid out on the kitchen counter, of his mother’s body lying prone staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes-

“Shut up! Shut up, Kacchan!” Izuku screamed and grabbed the side of his head to wrench his eyes shut. “You don’t know! You don’t know what it’s like! You didn’t see what that monster did to her!” His eyes shot open, silent tears streaming down his cheeks as he glared thunderously at the recently graduated hero. A sob choked him, making him struggle to release his words. “I should’ve been there. If I’d only gotten there ten minutes sooner, she’d still be here and that bastard would be rotting in a prison cell where he belongs!” The sparks increased in intensity as he flexed his arms hard, leather groaning as they were strained under his increasingly tight grip. “I can’t stop now, Kacchan. Not now.” 

“Fucking listen to yourself!” Katsuki pressed, taking another step forward. Izuku reacted this time by jerking forward, priming himself should the blond dare to push closer. Katsuki seemed oblivious to the looming threat, red eyes as wide as blood moons as he tried desperately to beseech the vigilante. “It’s not your fault, Izuku.” Izuku relaxed just the slightest as his friend addressed him by name, his real name. Katsuki’s voice was soft, pleading, honeyed with promise and brotherhood. “I know what it’s like to blame yourself for somethin’ bad. You know that I know. Don’t do this. Don’t go down this road.” Katsuki removed one of his gauntlets; it clanged to the ground, rolling a foot or so away to bump against the side of the building walling the alley. Katsuki’s expression was nothing sort of begging as he extended his hand to Izuku. “Please. Izuku. Come home.” 

Izuku was tempted. So, so tempted. His fingers twitched as the inane desire gripped him, and his hand even rose a few centimeters. Home. Home. Home. The word pulsed in his mind, a repetitive drum hammering away at the wall of resolve he’s built up for months. Chips and cracks appeared in the fortification, dust raining down as Katsuki’s plea assaulted his will. Home. 

“Welcome home, Izuku! I missed you so much. Tell me all about school- oh, but don’t make me cry, okay?” 

Izuku sucked in a strangled breath as the voice of the person he’d never see again rang in his head. Hissing, he grabbed his hand and held it, physically restraining himself to squash the last dregs of the desire tainting his nerves. His emerald eyes hardened into shining gems rough and unpolished with malice. 

“Sorry, Kacchan. I told you already. I can’t go back now.” Without warning, Izuku sprang at him, giving Katsuki no time to react as he aimed a savage kick to the side of his body. Katsuki’s reflexes were sharper than ever, so he managed to wedge his remaining gauntlet between himself and Izuku’s oncoming metal-coated boot. Boosted by the insane strength of Izuku’s Quirk, the blow crippled the metal of the gauntlet, making it crumple like aluminum wrap under the fierce assault of the strike. The force propagated across the surface to ripple into Katsuki’s body, and the boy yelped as he was abruptly flung sideways, right into the brick wall. The hard surface exploded upon his impact, clouding white, chalky dust into the air. Katsuki’s limp body slumped over the edge of the giant hole he’d created, twitched beneath a few cracked bricks. He was barely conscious, groaning Izuku’s name. Izuku straddled his legs where they stuck out into the alley, eyes lidded. 

He wasn’t sure how he felt about it- how easily he’d subdued Katsuki Bakugo, his greatest rival and fiercest competitor. It was so unlike Katsuki to be just immediately flattened, especially by one blow. But here he was, moaning as he cradled his broken ribs with blood streaming from the large gash in the side of his head. His red eyes peeked through the slits of his eyes, hazily focusing on the green-haired vigilante as he stepped away from the scene. 

“Get back here… Motherfucker…” Katsuki’s voice warbled with exhaustion from the concussion he was probably sporting. The bricks shifted and clattered off his form as he half-climbed, half-stumbled out of the hole. Izuku glanced over his shoulder from the entrance of the alley to see Katsuki barely standing, knees wobbling as he staggered after him. Scratches littered his skin and blood spattered his black-and-orange costume. “Get back here, Deku! I ain’t done yet!” he demanded, louder. In the next second, his legs gave out and he slammed face-first into the cobblestone. Izuku watched him slowly wiggle with a mixture of pity and satisfaction. “Fuck,” Katsuki wheezed, clearly struggling not to cry. “I just… I just want… I wanted things to be like they used to,” he sniffed pathetically. The tears blotted his face because he hadn’t the strength to lift a hand to wipe his face. 

Izuku stared down at him mournfully. 

“They can’t, Kacchan. They just can’t.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

Izuku left Katsuki and the petty thief in the alleyway. With all the noise, someone would’ve heard and called the authorities. Izuku activated his Quirk to place some distance between himself and the crime scene. His mind was a blank slate, thoughtless as he erased all urges to turn around and hug Katsuki while bawling his eyes out. 

After a few minutes of leaping across the rooftops, Izuku crouched down onto the flat roof of a department store. He smiled wanly as he looked up at the night sky, where a few stars were stubbornly blinking behind the thick sheet of gray clouds. 

“Sorry, Mom. You’re probably crying right now, huh? Sorry… But I can’t go back- not until someone pays.”

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork @simplybakugou @lovelusional @wesparklebitch

[mocha-sim]

i feel like writing out more headcanons so here goes

(long post warning)

Megami

She’s struggling to find something she’s not naturally good at just to feel the sense of learning and improving

She enjoys the respect and admiration of other students but wishes they wouldn’t fear her so much

Aoi has been her best friend since they were little and is very protective of her

Initially she isn’t attracted to Taro and just wants to protect him from Ayano, but starts to fall for him both over shared interests and over the fact that he’s one of the only people to see her as a person instead of some higher being

That one friend who’s always ready for the camera, even when she’s not

She has an interest in engineering and likes to study it in what little free time she gets

After she becomes CEO she makes an attempt to repair her relationship with her brother by offering him a position in the company. He refuses, runs off with his share of the inheritance money and then sends multiple assassins after her

Taro

He reads all kinds of books but his favourite genre is psychological horror

He also likes cheesy romance novels. Hanako and Taeko like to tease him about it

Taeko is his twin sister who didn’t make it into Akademi and attends a different school. He and Hanako are much closer and though she’s never spoken up about it, she always feels left out

He has suspicions that someone is stalking him but doesn’t have any evidence and doesn’t want to sound crazy/paranoid

By the time week 10 rolls around he’s 100% sure that he’s being stalked and sits awake in his bed at night, watching the window, chugging caffeine to stay awake with a baseball bat by his side

If the weather is bad he’ll go and read in the library. He’s good friends with Kuu

Budo is like a brother to him and is usually the first person he talks to about his problems. (Hanako is very important to him but she always overreacts)

Shiromi

Her family is the most important thing to her and insulting them is one of the few things that can genuinely piss her off

She had an occult phase and got super into doing tarot cards/palm readings. She’s still interested in it but not enough to consider joining the occult club

Being Kaga’s half-sister means that she spends a lot of time around the science club members. She hangs out with Homu and Meka on weekends

The three of them grow the closest in their third year after the other science club and student council members have graduated

Her whole mentality is “life’s too short”, which is why she acts the way she does and is always looking for something new or interesting. She got it from her parents

She loves candy and is always on the hunt for a type she hasn’t tried before

She’s good with kids, partially because she babysits for families in her area a lot

Very very social and extroverted, but she has a hard time reading social cues sometimes and her lack of expression is off-putting to a lot of people

One of the shortest students in school, but she doesn’t let it get to her

Aoi

She places a lot of her self-worth on her physical ability, which is why someone beating her in a fight would leave scars not only physically but emotionally as well

She sees people who are aggressive or willing to do amoral things as a necessity to stopping troublemakers and criminals

She’s into heavy metal

Last year she spent pretty much all her time around Megami or by herself. She almost joined the sports club but couldn’t stand any of the other club members

She has trouble making friends and feels sort of lost and alone after Megami goes away for nine weeks

Shiromi is the only council member who made an effort to talk to her and one of the few students who was never afraid of her

One day Budo just came up and started talking to her. Now they’re friends. When anyone asks how they became friends Aoi replies with “he just kinda never went away”

Secretly afraid of heights but would never admit it

She can’t flirt at all but Megami is always trying to act as her wingman when she shows interest in a girl

Akane

She squints because she can’t stand the cheap fluorescent lights and who can blame her

Still has stuffed animals and isn’t ashamed of it

i’m just going to say it: i hate the idea of her secretly being an “eeevil” edgelord character but i do want her to have more depth than just “the cute nice one”

She’s a genuinely good person who struggles with bad/violent thoughts but pushes back against them. She sometimes worries that these thoughts make her irredeemably evil and feels guilty for them

Kuroko and Shiromi are both protective of her and she thinks it’s the sweetest. Kuroko has noodle arms and Shiromi weighs maybe 90 pounds soaking wet, but it’s the thought that counts

She’s afraid of Aoi and tries to avoid her

She likes to make jewelry and made friendship bracelets for the other council members. Shiromi wears hers openly and proudly, and Kuroko wears hers under her sleeve

She won’t outright say that she has a favourite among her admirers, but it’s Daku simply because he doesn’t get into fights over her like the others

Kuroko

She’s extremely focused on living up to her rich and successful parents

Her family puts a lot of pressure on her to be constantly working or studying, which left her with little to no social life before Akane and Shiromi came into the picture

She thinks that the only reason Aoi made it onto the council is because of her close relationship with Megami

Akane got her into a band she likes and now Kuroko listens to their music when studying

She likes reptiles and has a pet snake

Her sleep schedule is fucked beyond repair

She has trouble outwardly expressing emotions because of her upbringing and sees it as a sign of weakness

After finding out that Shiromi’s parents give her so much independence, she took it upon herself to watch over Shiromi and keep her out of trouble. She sees Shiromi’s parents as failures who can’t care for their child properly

Akane is the only other member of the council she really respects as a fellow adult. She’s also the only one Kuroko will confide in

Info

Her real name is Ayame Yoshida

Outwardly she thinks of her father (the journalist) as a loser who can’t support his daughter or himself, and doesn’t deserve a thing from her

Inwardly she still loves him and leaves him a share of her money for food and to pay the bills, but since she feels she can’t rely on him she’s built up walls and doesn’t really communicate with him

She used to be friends/partners in crime with Shiromi in middle school, until Info “disappeared” sometime during her last year

When she found out Shiromi was attending Akademi she offered money if she would lend her skills to Info’s work, but Shiromi refused

She has some anger issues

Also sort of a god complex

She secretly likes to play video games on the computers when she’s not doing her work

Outside of mission mode she still operates an assassination business which extends far outside of Akademi and even outside of Buraza. Ayano just isn’t one of her assassins

Kaga

He does want to take over Saikou Corp, but he also has genuine feelings for Megami and wants to impress her

He just doesn’t understand exactly how to go about pursuing her and messes it up a lot

Yaku and Horo are good friends of his, Homu is ok with him, and Meka straight-up hates him

His mother re-married after divorcing his father and had a daughter with her new husband. He sometimes feels like he’s not really part of the family and that his parents love his half-sister more

He used to have pet rats. Now he has pet mutant rats that his parents made him promise to never ever show to the public

Sometimes he takes apart others’ stuff without asking them first. He once dismantled Akane’s bike while she was over for a sleepover with Shiromi. Akane cried and Kuroko yelled at him

He hates cats because of a past experiment involving a cat gone wrong. It looked something like the Cats movie

Yaku and Horo respect his dedication to science but really want to get him outside more

The Aishi Twins

Ayano joined the student council and Yanagi (Yan-kun) joined the art club

The two of them haven’t exactly gotten along since they were kids, but they tolerate each other

Ayano can’t stand Megami or Aoi and treats both of them with a sort of cold faux-politeness. Megami does the same to her. Aoi will snap at her any chance she gets

Yanagi, being the second child born, doesn’t suffer from the Aishi curse but being brought up in a house with Ayano and Ryoba still fucks him up. He doesn’t really see any value in the lives or well-being of others

Ayano kills, kidnaps, and tortures to meet her goals. Yanagi does it for the thrill

While Ayano is interested in Taro, Yanagi doesn’t have a specific person as his goal and does whatever he feels like at the time

Neither one of them ever meets Taeko face-to-face, but if they did Ayano would take an interest in her as well since she’s Taro’s twin

Outside of using the art club as a front for his “hobbies”, Yanagi is genuinely a pretty good painter. He has a similar vision to Borupen and is the only one he really gets along with

[whumphoarder]

You Still Got Us

Summary: Peter is having an off-day, which unfortunately coincides with an Avengers’ level mission. After watching the kid take a number of close calls, Tony has no choice but to bench Peter mid-fight.

Word count: 2,461

Genre: angst, emotional hurt/comfort

Link to read on Ao3

A/N: Written as part of @irondadsecretsanta 2019! Merry Christmas @garbotuesday! Hope you enjoy :D

Thanks to @xxx-cat-xxx and @sallyidss for beta reading and to @awesomesockes for the idea

It was pretty clear that Peter was having an off-day.

Tony first noticed the signs during Steve’s pre-mission briefing that morning when the kid repeatedly kept sneaking glances at his phone. That seemed a bit out of character given Peter’s usual reverence toward the captain, but Tony excused it on the basis that a) it was a pretty straightforward mission, b) they’d been over the exact specifications of the building they were going to be infiltrating four times already, and c) Cap could be boring as hell.

Peter seemed a bit preoccupied during their flight to the rural New Mexican town, but nothing too out of the ordinary. He nodded along to all of the team’s tactical discussions and appeared to understand his role in the plan. Later, when the kid tripped over his own feet while exiting the quinjet, Tony chalked it up to nerves.

But the final straw was when Peter misread Steve’s hand signal to hold his position as an order to strike. That mistake is what caused the kid to charge directly into a room full of six heavily-armed guards, completely by himself.

Cursing, Tony quickly scrambles out from behind the crate that’s been shielding him from view. The rest of the team is already mobilizing, thankfully used to improvisation. Natasha takes out one of the men with a roundhouse kick to the jaw while Steve and Clint converge on two more, quickly disarming them.

Another guard hurls a heavy metal table in Tony’s direction and takes off running toward the backdoor. Tony’s just started after him when he hears Sam’s urgent warning over the comms.

“Heads up, Spidey!”

Tony whirls around. Peter—who is staring down at his own wrist, frantically tapping the side of his webshooter mechanism—barely has time to look up before the fifth guard aims his gun directly at the kid’s head.

Instantly, Tony raises his hand and blasts the weapon right out of the guard's grip. The man gives a strangled cry of pain as he clutches his now burned hand to his chest. Taking advantage of that momentary distraction, Tony switches his repulsor setting to stun and fires again. This time he blows the guard clear across the room. Under his faceplate, Tony grins.

(It’s the little things.)

Unfortunately, he doesn’t get to bask in the satisfaction for long. A split-second later, a burst of energy slams into Tony’s chest plate. The force sends him hurtling backwards into the wall. Tony grunts sharply as pain explodes in his ribcage.

Peter races over to him. “Oh god, Mr. Stark, are you okay?” he blurts out, his tone borderline hysterical. “I’m so sorry! My webshooter jammed and I—”

“Get down!” Clint shouts.

Tony swears sharply, yanking Peter down with him just as another photon blast shoots over their heads. This time it’s so close that Tony swears he can see smoke wafting up from the top of Peter’s mask.

“Shit, kid…” Tony gasps out, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Peter assures him, gulping hard. He’s sitting on the ground now, looking more dazed than anything else. “I just, uh, didn’t see him there.”

Over the comms, Tony hears Steve report that the two remaining guards have just escaped through the southwest exit. Sam and Natasha immediately take off after them. Peter starts scrambling to his feet like he intends to follow, but Tony grabs his wrist.

“Oh hell no. Don’t even think about it,” he snaps. “You’re staying right here.”

“What? No!” Peter protests, trying fruitlessly to twist his arm out of his mentor’s iron grip. “I’m fine—I’m not even hurt!”

“No, but you will be if you can’t get your head in the game,” Tony retorts, his gaze traveling around the room. Out of the team, Barton seems to be the only one left. The archer has an arrow trained threateningly at the pile of groaning men on the ground.

“Yo, Legolas!” Tony hollers, causing the man to glance back at him. “You got this?”

Clint smirks. “Absolutely. These guys aren’t going anywhere,” he says, nodding his head toward the incapacitated guards. “Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.”

Tony rolls his eyes at the archer. "Yeah, well let me know if it gets to be difficult, difficult, lemon difficult..." he mutters. Still holding Peter’s wrist, he pulls the kid with him behind a stack of crates in the back corner of the warehouse. He retracts his helmet to look directly at Peter. “Alright, start talking,” he orders. “What is going on with you today?”

“Nothing,” Peter says tightly. Even in the mask, he won’t meet Tony’s gaze. “’m fine.”

“No, you’re not fine—you’re unfocused. You’re sloppy,” Tony argues. “Sloppy doesn’t fly in the big leagues, kid. Sloppy’s liable to get you killed.”

”Right, no, I know that. My webshooter is just clogged, but I can fix it!" Peter babbles. He resumes smacking the side of the mechanism. "I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I just—” With a final smack, the blockage is released and a string of web shoots out of the device, adhering Peter’s foot to the ground. He groans. “Aw, c’mon...”

Tony heaves out an exasperated sigh as the kid proceeds to clumsily spray his foot with web solvent. “Alright, that’s it, I’m benching you,” he declares. “Go back to the quinjet and wait for us to finish up.”

“Wh-What?” Peter stammers. He shakes his head frantically. “No, no I’m fine, Mr. Stark! I’ll focus! It was just—”

“Nope,” Tony cuts him off. “If you can’t take this mission seriously, then you shouldn’t be on it.” He’s starting to get heated now. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you constantly on your phone this morning. I don’t know what you think is so important on there, but you can crush candy and fire angry birds at green pigs another time.”

“I-I wasn’t,” Peter mumbles, still looking down.

"Then what were you doing?" Tony demands.

Peter bites his lower lip. His voice is very small when he answers, “Waiting for a text.”

“A text?” Tony balks. He’s in genuine disbelief. “You’ve been begging me and Cap to let you come along on the real missions for months now, and when we finally do, rather than following orders and keeping up, you spend your time, what? Texting your girlfriend?”

Peter’s hugging his arms around his middle now. He shakes his head slightly, his words coming out in barely a whisper. “No. May.”

Tony frowns in confusion. “Your aunt?”

Peter nods, his lower lip starting to quiver. “She… um, she found a lump a couple days ago? On her, uh…” He gestures vaguely in front of his chest.

Tony’s heart sinks with the realization. He exhales slowly. “Oh bud…”

Inhaling shakily, Peter starts to ramble. “Like, it might be nothing and I know I shouldn’t jump to conclusions or anything before the tests come back because who knows if it’s cancer or just like, fatty tissue or something? She said it could be that and it might be no big deal so I shouldn’t get worried yet, but… but like...” He draws in another shuddery inhale. “May’s mom died of breast cancer when she was only like, forty. And I know that doesn’t mean that May has it or anything but it can run in families and so"—he sucks in a sharp breath—"I just, I mean...she’s all I have left, a-and…”

Peter breaks off into a choked sob, and Tony sets a hand heavily on his shoulder.

“I just… I ca-can’t lose her too, Mr. Stark!” he cries.

“It’s okay,” Tony whispers, rubbing his hand up and down over Peter’s arm. “It’s alright, kid…”

Through his earpiece, he hears Nat report that she’s just taken down the final guard. Sam cracks a quick joke about Black Widow’s head-locking skills before Steve reports that he’s discovered the weapons distribution area. It all sounds pretty well under control.

Lowering his hand, Tony steps backwards and taps his earpiece with two fingers. “Hey, I need to take the kid back to the jet,” he says quietly. “I’ll be back in ten or so to finish up.”

“Roger that,” Steve replies. “Is he injured?”

Tony hesitates. Peter has tugged his mask halfway up over his face now and is scrubbing at his cheeks roughly with the back of his hand. “Not physically," he replies after a pause. "But he’s… he’s done for today.”

X

The walk back to the quinjet is brief and silent, the only sounds being Peter’s occasional sniffs. He’s clearly trying his best to pull it together, so Tony just lets him be.

Once back onboard, Peter immediately sinks down into his seat, removing the mask entirely. Tony grabs a bottle of water and a protein bar from their supplies and holds them out to him, but the kid just shakes his head.

“I’m good,” he whispers.

“Doubtful,” Tony replies. He sets the items down on Peter’s lap anyway.

Peter bends down to reach into his backpack, which is stowed under the seat, and fishes his phone out with trembling fingers. He scrolls through to check his notifications, and then sighs.

“Anything?” Tony asks.

Peter shakes his head. “Not yet.” He lowers the phone back down and looks up at his mentor. “I’m really sorry about the mission,” he says quietly. “I shouldn’t have come today. That was really stupid and I just put everybody in danger. I was just so worried and I thought it might take my mind off it, but...” A stray tear runs down from the corner of his eye.

With a sigh, Tony presses the button to fully retract his armor. He then plops down on the closest seat, wincing as pain shoots through his now unsupported ribs. “Look. I’m not going to say what you did was okay, because it really wasn't"—Peter bites his lip and gives a solemn nod—“But at the same time, I'd be lying if I told you I’ve never done anything similar.” Tony pauses for a beat. “Emotions suck.”

At that, Peter huffs out a short, empty laugh. “Yeah. Agreed.”

They sit there for a moment, before Peter asks hesitantly, “Uh, are you going to head back now?”

Originally, Tony was only intending to stay until the kid was situated and then get back to the warehouse to help confiscate the weapons, but the quiver in Peter’s lip is giving him pause. The team probably doesn’t need him, per se—the hard part is basically over.

Tony shrugs. “I think Cap’s got it handled. Plus”—he presses his hand gingerly to the bruise on his ribcage—“this could probably do with some ice. Do you think you could…?” He flaps his hand in the direction of the ship’s medical supplies.

Peter’s eyes widen. “Oh! Yeah, of course.” He hops up from his seat and retrieves the first aid kit. He locates a single-use ice pack which he snaps and shakes to activate the chemicals.

“Here,” Peter says, handing it over. “Uh, how bad is it?” he asks nervously. “Do you want some painkillers or anything?”

Tony takes the ice pack with a nod of thanks. He’s had enough broken ribs in his life to know that these are likely just bruised—at worst, cracked. The injury is only ranking about a three or four on the pain scale, which is far below his usual threshold for sitting things out. But if the kid needs something else to focus on, he figures a break won’t kill him.

“Sure, if you’ve got any,” Tony says, keeping his tone casual.

Peter locates and doses out three Tylenol for Tony, shaking them into his mentor’s palm before grabbing him a fresh bottle of water.

“Thanks,” Tony says. He swallows them down and then adjusts his position in his seat, considering for a moment the best way to keep Peter's mind occupied while they wait. “Hey," he begins, "have I ever told you about the time Clint tried to free climb the outside surface of a three-story building?”

Peter shakes his head.

“Oh, it’s a doozy,” Tony remarks with a chuckle, settling deeper into his chair. “Alright, so it was Valentine’s day, which I only happen to remember because Cap insisted on making these heart-shaped pancakes for everyone, which set off the fire alarm...”

Over the next ten minutes, Tony recounts the story with as much embellishment and vivid imagery as he can muster. Peter gives the occasional single breathy laugh or nod as appropriate, which satisfies his mentor that his less-than-subtle distraction tactics are at least partially working.

“...luckily, Thor caught him before he hit the ground,” Tony concludes. “You know those viral videos where the firefighter catches the baby being dropped out of an apartment window? Same concept, except the firefighter was an alien god and the baby was a grown man in cargo shorts. Still screamed about the same amount though.”

With a short laugh, Peter checks his phone once more. He then sighs and shakes his head slightly before setting the device back facedown on his thigh.

Tony takes that as his cue to continue. “...Speaking of screaming, have you heard the one about how he once posed as a camel trainer in Australia, and led a group of—”

Just then, Peter’s phone buzzes.

Eyes going wide, his hand shoots out for the device so fast that his fumbling fingers send it clattering to the floor. He drops to his knees and picks it up, quickly turning it over to see the text.

For a few seconds, Peter just stares at the message, unblinking, and Tony waits for a response with bated breath.

Then suddenly, Tony’s watching tears well up in the kid’s eyes. His own heart drops to his stomach and all at once it's 1991 again and Jarvis is knocking on his bedroom door, informing him that a state trooper is here, that something terrible has occurred, that his parents are—

A choked sob from Peter knocks Tony back to the present. The kid is still knelt on the floor, pressing a fist to his lips, shoulders shaking from the effort of keeping quiet.

“N-Negative,” Peter manages to say through the tears. “The bi-biopsy was... it was negative. No cancer.”

Ignoring the protests from his ribs, Tony slides out of his own seat to join him on the floor. He pulls the boy in to his chest for a tight hug. “It’s okay, Pete,” he says quietly. “It’s okay. I got you.”

Peter’s sobs are wracking his entire frame, but Tony only holds him tighter as he cries.

“It’s alright, kid,” Tony breathes, rubbing one hand up and down Peter’s back. “You still got her. You still got us.”

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