#me wiping snot and tears off my face I hate this fucking guy with my whole life he's everything to me. im not visiting him in prison

[ballwizard]

Your honor my client was just being a silly little guy consumed by revenge and rage & grief so tbh the atrocities really werent that bad all things considered. he pleads guilty though so give him like a month of community service. thank you. Bangs gavel

[ginnsbaker]

In Flames I Sleep Soundly (2/2)

Chapter Summary: The aftermath.

Word Count: 9k+

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Non-graphic depictions of violence

Author’s Note: Thank you for your patience, I hope... I don't know what I hope. I'm just grateful that you guys took the time to read this piece and leave comments in my inbox. I do have more to say later, but for now I just needed to post this. 

Let me know if you have some questions or clarifications. (yes, I wrote this sentence after sending a work email)

AO3 / Part One / Masterlist

--

Part Two

You’ve always thought that life is like a train ride. 

And as a passenger, you know only two things: the direction of the course and its scheduled stops. And so, it’s like this: get born into the world, take your first steps, go to elementary school, go to high school, go to college, get a job, get married, have children, have grandchildren, and then die in your sleep. If there’s an afterlife, perhaps get resurrected into a young version of you, and move into another train. And then begin another journey. 

But what the passenger doesn’t know is that a train can only move forward when it’s on its rails. And this is where the helplessness of every individual in that train becomes apparent. Your life–or at least how you want it to go–is not entirely in your hands.

For you, a single phone call managed to completely derail your train from its tracks. And then, as if still unsatisfied, it plucked you violently from it and left you on your own in the middle of nowhere.

You didn’t know where to go, only where you’ve been. Like a diamond blade that cuts through steel, it segmented your life into just two parts: Before and After.  

Before was going home to your wife after a tedious day, resting your head on her lap while she threads her fingers through your hair.

After is knowing those same delicate fingers raked through someone else’s tufts of blonde in throes of passion. 

Before was her telling you she loves you and feeling it to your bones.

After is her telling you she loves you and only hearing a lie.

Split in the middle, you presume you can simply choose to live in one or the other. 

***

“Love’s a fucking bitch.”

Inside your car, you’ve been quiet the whole time, just staring at the photos in Natasha’s phone. You stare at Wanda walking out of the theater, hand-in-hand with a tall, lanky man you don’t recognize. 

“His name is Victor Shade. Goes by ‘Vision’. The only son of a high-profile neurosurgeon on the East Coast.” Natasha tells you, eyeing you closely.  

You brush your thumb against the image of the laughing woman in the picture. She wore your wife’s face and smile, but all you see is a stranger. 

“What are you going to do?” Natasha asks.

Briefly, you consider this could all just be a prank. Maybe Wanda is watching you fall apart right now, giggling in hiding because she got you this time. At least it’s the sort of cruelty you’d fight over for a day or maybe a week, and then laugh about in ten years.  

“Y/N?” Natasha tries again.

You finally look up at her and immediately hate the look of pity on your best friend’s face.  

“I don’t even know where I’m sleeping tonight.” you say, handing back her phone. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You should talk to Wanda.”

The laugh that bubbles up your throat is nothing short of deranged. For almost a minute, you laugh into your steering wheel until tears begin to prick at the corner of your eyes. Natasha watches you with a worried expression, her hand hovering over your back hesitantly. She thinks about the beautiful person she met in kindergarten, the girl who gave her own blue crayon so Natasha could color the sky properly while she was left to color hers with a red one. It hurts her to witness the light snuff out of the person who was her own light in her darkest moments. And when your laughter subsides into muffled sobs, she cries with you. 

When you’re done, you systematically wipe the tears and snot off your face with the sleeve of your shirt. Natasha patiently waits for your next move.

“Did you get his address?” you ask with a surprisingly steady voice. 

“Yes, apparently it’s in one of the luxurious apartments near the university.” Natasha says as she texts you the exact address. 

“Good,” you say, then turn your attention to the empty roads ahead of you. 

You lied when you had implied to Natasha that you didn’t know what you’re going to do. 

***

A Victorian style of housing is unheard of in this part of New Jersey, but here you are, standing outside of one. His rental is on the second floor at the end of the street where a sports car is parked carelessly in its spacious garage–an august flex coming from a college kid. Wanda crosses your mind once again as you take in this grandiose lifestyle before you. Was it money that attracted her to him? You never pegged her for a gold-digger, but then again you also didn’t peg her for a cheating whore. You screw your eyes tightly shut at the unpleasant adjectives you now associate with your wife as you lose some of yourself in the process. There’s something frightening and unfamiliar threatening to consume your entire being, and you have no clue what to do with it. 

With a deep breath, you walk to his doorstep and ring the doorbell. A few moments later, you jerk in surprise as the door swings wide open towards you, the lock stile of the wooden panel narrowly missing your forehead.

“Sorry, I keep meaning to get that fixed and it’s easier to push,” A man in his early twenties with yellow blonde hair comes into sight. 

“Can I help you?” he asks. 

You have to tilt your head back slightly in order to meet his cerulean eyes. 

“You’re Vision?” you ask.

“Actually, it’s Victor Shade. But yes, everyone calls me Vision.”

“How old are you?” 

Vision shuffles his feet, uncertain if he should answer your question. It’s rhetorical of course, a question you didn’t mean to actually come out of your mouth. You could guess–but truthfully, you’d rather not now. 

“Who are you?”

“Y/N Maximoff.”

He raises his eyebrows quizzically, your name not ringing a bell.

“Wanda’s wife.” you supplement domineeringly, as if declaring it would stake your claim on her once and for all. He drops his gaze at the mention of your wife’s name, like a child that has been caught doing something he shouldn’t. It doesn’t matter that he’s at least half a foot taller than you are. He isn’t quite a man. Not to you.

“May I–May I come in?” you ask as politely as you could. 

After a second of doubt he smirks, and then says, “Sure.” You can sense the shift in his stance. He knows you’re onto him, and this is a showdown. Like any Alpha male scrambling to be on top of the food chain, he finds you to be an exciting piece of challenge. It makes you wonder if he was looking forward to this moment as much as you were dreading it.

You didn’t notice before that he’s barely covering his naked torso with a peacoat, and you try not to think about what brought on his current state. If by chance, you had just narrowly missed one of your wife’s regular visits.

Once you’re inside his apartment, you immediately scan your surroundings. There are papers and books scattered all over the floor. You can make out a thin trail of smoke coming from an unfinished cigarette in his living room, where the couch is covered by a tarpaulin smeared with ink and acrylic paint. 

On an easel beside it is a painting covered by a dirty towel you assume he’s been working on before being disrupted by your presence. “Can I look?” you point at it. 

“No. Sorry,” he says, before taking the painting from the easel and bringing it to his room. “It’s not done yet. An artist’s rule.”

You nod, and then noticing the only thing that he has organized, you say, “Nice vinyl collection.”

“Thanks.”

You stare at each other for long seconds. It feels ridiculous to expect an apology from him, but it’s something you think you deserved at the minimum. 

“So, tell me. How did you meet my wife?” you ask when it becomes apparent that he doesn’t have any intention to be an active participant in this meeting.

“Art History 101. I’m one of her–”

“Students.” You complete his sentence with a grimace. Somehow that just makes things more fucked up than they already are. Jesus fucking Christ, Wanda, you curse in thought. Yet in a twisted way, it also kind of makes sense now. What they have is the stuff of sexual fantasies–a goddamned kink show is what it is. You’d never guess she’s capable of this. 

“Yeah, and she was really knowledgeable in the subject. Not to mention, a natural teacher. Everybody in the class was awestruck by her.” Vision continues to talk about Wanda as though he’s talking about her to a person who didn’t know her down to the ground. You don’t need to be told how spectacular your wife is. You knew better than anyone. How dare he?

“How’s it going?” You cut him off before he could accidentally trigger something fatal inside of you.

He looks at you, bewildered at the random question. He waits for the punchline that never comes, and then chuckles, “It’s been swell.” 

“This is where you meet?” you ask.

“Yes.”

“And she likes it?” You mean this place that looks like it’s been ransacked ten times over.

“Well, I guess. She never complained.” he says, and then cowers at the dirty look you throw his way at his callous comment.

“Do you stay in all the time or do you go out too?” you ask.

“It depends. We actually like to drive to new places in and out of town. Especially in the first week since she’s never ridden a convertible.”

“She likes that? She likes…aimless drives with no particular destinations?” 

“Oh, yeah. More exciting than being stuck in a routine, I guess.” 

It’s an obvious jab at a lifestyle he thinks you saddled Wanda with. 

Heat rises to your cheeks and you walk closer to him. “Did you know that we’ve been married for five years? And before then together for six?”

That you have a dog. Plans to have kids in the future. Plans to retire in a beachfront property. The rest of your lives together. Does all that mean nothing? 

“I know,” Vision replies, his tone devoid of any sign that he might be sorry for fucking a married woman. “She also told me you asked to move here because of your banking aspirations.”

“My aspirations? You…talk about me?” You manage to blurt out incredulously. Vision shrugs at that, and actually regards you with mild concern when you start blinking rapidly behind your glasses. You can hear your heart hammering in your chest as all the blood in your body suddenly rushes to your head. 

He doesn’t answer “Would you like a drink?” 

“Yeah, why not.” you say and lean against the closest wall to you for support.

“I have water, orange juice…”

“Got anything stronger?” 

“I think I have some vodka left.” Vision mutters and then disappears into the kitchen. You take his absence as an opportunity to sneak into his bedroom. It’s smaller than you’ve imagined. A huge mirror is hanging across the foot of the bed and you instantly know what it’s for. 

Is this where it all happens? Where they happen? Did they watch themselves fuck? Did Wanda watch herself fuck someone who isn’t you and felt guilty about it? 

Did she think about you at all?

You sit on the mattress and stroke its silky sheets with shaking fingers. The bed is unmade, and you know there’s evidence on them if you try to look for it.

A framed painting peeking out from his dresser takes your attention. You walk over to it and pull it out of its hiding. 

Your eyes go round in recognition. It’s the painting Wanda asked you to retrieve in Soho. You turn the painting over and discover a small piece of paper plastered on it.

‘To Vision, the only secret people keep is immortality.’  - W

You crumple the note tightly in your fist. Suddenly, all of it becomes more real than you can envisage: on a Tuesday morning, you’re perched on the exact spot your wife’s been betraying you over and over. You can almost smell Wanda from where you’re sitting–can feel her damp, soft skin, can hear her little sighs as she catches her breath.

You’re not prepared for the overwhelming rage that consumes you next, as you abruptly get up and walk the small distance to the kitchen.

-

You come to thirty seconds later, to broken pieces of porcelain and an unconscious man lying on a puddle of blood on the floor.

Your first instinct is to call Natasha. She picks up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Nat,” you say in a rush. “I need your help. I-I didn’t mean to–”

“Hey, hey. Slow down. What happened?” 

“I’m at Vision’s. I did a horrible thing a-and I’m so sorry, Nat, I–”

“Focus, Y/N,” Natasha’s voice is eerily collected. “Is he still alive?”

You scramble to place your index and middle finger on his neck, and let out a sigh of relief once you find what you’re looking for.

“I got a pulse. Should I call 911?”

“Don’t, I’ll handle this. Just grab a towel and wrap it around something cold like frozen vegetables or ice, then apply it gently to the area of the injury.” Natasha says. 

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment to absorb the instruction. Getting a grasp of the situation has started to feel like an impossible task. 

“Did you hear what I say?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Natasha says. “You’ll be fine, okay? I’m on my way.”

And then she’s gone. And you’re left to deal with the vestiges of your crime. You have no idea how much longer Vision will have a pulse. You try to do what Natasha told you to, but you find yourself unable to move a limb, stuck in the loop of wanting him dead and wanting to do what is right. 

That is, until you hear the familiar tone of a message notification. It came from the rear pocket of Vision’s bloodstained cargo pants. You fall to the floor and dig out his phone. To unlock it, you take his cold hand and press his thumb against its screen. 

There’s a new voice message from a certain ‘W’ in his contacts.

Wanda.

You hit play.

“I hate to do this here,” Wanda’s voice is tremulous and you can easily tell that she’s been crying. “But this is the only way I can trust myself to go through with this decision. This needs to end. I can’t live like this. I’m tired of lying and hurting Y/N. She’s my family. Whether you believe it or not, she’s everything to me. I’m sorry. And I hope,” Wanda’s voice breaks on a choked sob. “I don’t know what I hope. I’m sorry.”

You listen to it again before making the decision to delete the message. You slip the device back into Vision’s pants.

Afterwards, you try to save his life.

***

Five Days After 

You wake up with a start. The clock on the nightstand reads 4:34 A.M. 

The dreams are more vivid now, and they have progressed to you jabbing a kitchen knife into Wanda’s chest as Vision takes her from behind. 

In reality, Wanda is lying half-naked beside you, snoring softly. She looks like the Wanda from Before, but your mind knows better. You want to trace her outline with your eyes and your lips, as you’ve done countless times whenever you’d wake up first. You want to kiss her temple and whisper how you love her even if she can’t hear you. You want, and want, and want. But you know what she’s done and with what little dignity you have left, you don’t fall into the trap of your remaining feelings for her. 

In reality, her ex-lover is in some hospital in New York with his family waiting for him to wake up.

The first two days were the hardest after finding out about your wife’s infidelity. Wanda could read you like an open book, but for some miracle she didn’t see past the calm demeanor you put forth. You still comment nice things about her cooking, hug her goodbye, kiss her good night. 

And then the nightmare starts all over again the minute Wanda leaves the house. Because when she’s near you, you don’t have to wonder where she is or who she’s with. You don’t wonder if she notices the empty seat in her classroom that used to belong to Vision. You don’t wonder if there are another pair of eyes like his, looking at her intrepidly with desire. The longer you carry on with your life as if nothing’s happened, the more you realize how much of your existence the past several months were built on lies. 

Maybe the wife next to you is no longer yours, but how do you reconcile that with the truth that you’re still hers? 

“Y/N?” you hear Wanda speak as you get up from bed. “Where are you going?”

Wand hugs the comforter to her more securely. You want to scoff at her question.

“Going out for a run.” you say after a beat. 

“Want me to come with?”

“No, thanks. Just go back to sleep.”

“Oh,” Wanda glances briefly at the time and then says, “It’s still too dark outside.”

You shrug. “So?”

“Could be dangerous, don’t you think?” 

“It’s Westview,” you repeat the same thing she said to you the first night she came home late without calling. The night in which she probably fucked him for the first time. “What’s the worst that could happen to me?”

“Be careful.” she acquiesces softly. “Do you want anything for breakfast?”

“No.” you say, grabbing your running gear from the dresser. 

Sparky tries to follow after you but you lock him in the bedroom with Wanda, and head out to change in the guest bedroom. 

-

There’s a slight itch at the back of your throat and you’ve stopped sweating just a while ago. Nevertheless, your tired legs refuse to stop their strides as you reach your tenth mile, and end up in a deserted farmhouse where Natasha is waiting for you.

“He still hasn’t woken up,” Natasha announces, handing you a bottle of ice water. “And while I got rid of the paintings, we’re not out of the woods yet.”

You take a swig from it like someone who’s been left in the desert for days, before leaving just enough of the water to pour over your head.

“What do you mean?” you ask after you recover from your run. 

“His family is suspicious. They refuse to believe it’s an accident. You should expect cops to visit your house soon. Don’t panic. I scrubbed that kid’s apartment, they won’t find any traces of you.”

“How many years are we looking at?”

“It’s too early to worry about that. We don’t even know if he’ll ever wake up.”

“If he doesn’t, then I’m a murder, Nat.” you say candidly, like you’ve already accepted the monster that you now see yourself to be. “If he does wake up, then it’s attempted murder. Again, how many years are we looking at?”

“Even if he dies, you’re not going to prison. I promise you.”

“I don’t need you to promise me anything. Just answer the question, Nat.”

“Up to twenty years in the state of New Jersey.”

It figures. Despite it being more than half the amount of years you’ve been alive, you deem it a short punishment for the years you’d be taking from the boy. In twenty years or less, you’d be stepping out of prison to live out the rest of your life, and Vision would still be six feet under and being mourned by his parents. 

You look down at your dirty shoes, and say, “I see.”

Natasha puts her hands on your shoulders and ducks her head, trying to meet your eyes. 

“You’re not going to prison. I won’t allow it.” 

You step back and out of her hold. 

“Now, about that other thing. I already contacted this lawyer who owes me big time. You’ll just have to pay 30% of her regular rate for the entire divorce process.”

You look at your best friend, considering it. You could give Natasha the go signal now to hire this lawyer, but in the end all you say is, “Thanks, Nat. For everything.” as you turn your back on her.

Natasha’s brows snap together. “Where are you going?”

“Home.” The word leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, knowing that for so many years ‘home’ was a person you felt the safest, a person who you could be with as you are. Wanda didn’t just cheat on you, she left you homeless. Home, in every sense, no longer exists.

“On foot?” 

“Yup.”

“You’re being ridiculous. Just get in the car, I’ll drive you.” 

But you’re already bouncing on your feet and moving in the other direction.

***

The next day, you sleep on your alarm again. It’s the second consecutive week you’re calling in sick late in the morning, and your immediate supervisor at work is understandably worried. He offers you take the rest of the week off, partly fearful for anyone at your branch catching whatever illness he assumes you have. Ironically, broken marriages are arguably endemic in this country. So perhaps, you really should stay away from people for a while. 

The blinds were shut, so that as little light as possible dances through the gaps between them. You are encouraged to stay in bed by the lack of sunlight, but as your mind starts to wake up, something about the gloominess of the room urges you out of bed. It’s a Monday, so that means Wanda should be gone already. If you’re missing work, then you could make use of the time to think about your next course of action.

You’re halfway down the stairs when the sound of Wanda’s voice reaches your ears, making you stop in your tracks. 

“This will be our little secret, okay? Y/N can’t find out.”

You nearly miss a ladder in your step at the implication of her words, only to see she’s speaking to your dog. 

Wanda is sitting in the living room with Sparky who is thoroughly enjoying the morsel of cheese she’s feeding him with. If this was any other day before, you’d already be walking towards her to give her a morning kiss, and she’d complain that you didn’t brush your teeth long enough. You’d impishly lock her in your arms while you blow puffs of breath on her face, and she’d squirm and fight you off until the both of you are nothing but a blur of two idiots happy and in love. 

“Wanda,” you blink at her in confusion. “Aren’t you late for your morning class?”

You watch Wanda’s eyes light up before she could spot you at the foot of the staircase. 

“Hey, sleepyhead. Actually, I quit my job.” Wanda declares, wide-eyed, her green pools swimming in starry fervor that you almost squint.

“Since when?” 

“Since today.” Wanda shrugs, and you can see that she was hoping for a different reaction and not the mild indifference that she’s currently getting from you. 

“Why? Did something happen?” You ask as you pick up Sparky and bring him to the kitchen for a proper meal. You hate to see Wanda give up something she seemed so passionate about. But then you recall her recent affair with a student, and there’s really no telling where that passion was truly directed at. 

“Honestly, I’ve been meaning to for some time.” she muses while playing with her wedding ring. You leave a generous amount of boiled chicken in his food tray, before moving to sit on the opposite end of the couch, conscious to put much distance between you and Wanda.

“For a while it looked like I finally found a worthwhile career that isn’t so ambitious,” Wanda says. You glower at her allusion that her prior dreams were too extravagant to come true. “But in the process, I also lost myself to it. I sort of left you behind, while you always brought me to every milestone of your achievement. And for that, I wanted to apologize.”

It’s the closest thing to a willing confession you’ll ever get from Wanda. Her quitting her position at the university is her way of burying this and moving on. Maybe it would’ve been better if you simply waited for your marriage to fix itself instead of snooping around for her secrets. You wish you weren’t so addicted to the truth. If grace exists in this world, then it comes in the form of ignorance to all of the things that bring so much suffering. 

You’re thinking of something to say, but you’re afraid that the dam inside you will burst if you open your mouth. 

“I’m sorry it took a while for me to really comprehend how I feel about you.”

“We’ve been married for years, Wanda,” you remind her in disbelief. “That’s something you should’ve comprehended fully before you decided to say yes to a life with me.” 

“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” she hurries to explain. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. Please, Y/N, don’t get mad. Of course I know how I feel about you. I simply didn’t care to explore the magnitude of it, because I was complacent. And selfish.

“And when it comes down to it, you’re all that matters.” Wanda says and scoots closer to you. Then she takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. Your eyes close in their own accord, sighing at the contact. This might be the only thing that stops you from falling further apart. Even through the worst thing she's ever done to you, you crave to be this close to her. 

Wanda tries to read into your thoughts, and then says, “I know, I know. Acta non verba.”

“What?” you ask distractedly. 

“It’s what you always used to say back in college: deeds, not words. I’m going to show you. I’m going to make you feel how you make me feel.” she smiles at you tearily.

This isn’t how things are supposed to go. You’re to wait it out until the matter with Vision is resolved, and then serve her the divorce papers. She’s not supposed to declare her love for you and for those words to still have a substantial effect on you. 

“Wanda, I–” 

“Here,” Wanda retrieves a box from underneath the pillows and pushes them into your hands. “An advanced anniversary gift.” 

You try to stop your hands from shaking as you stare at the box in your lap. 

"Wanda, there's something we need to talk about."  

"Later, baby. Please, just open it." Wanda says and you try not to cringe at the pet name. 

You're about to pull the lid off when the doorbell rings and Sparky comes rushing to the door, yapping away. 

"I'll get it." You mumble and yank your hand from Wanda's grasp. The haze in your head instantly clears up the moment you’re no longer touching her. 

You open the door to two gentlemen in a dark suit. You remember Natasha’s warning yesterday, not really expecting them to show up this soon. 

"Wanda Maximoff?"

"No, I'm her wife, Y/N. Can I help you?"

The taller one with blonde hair makes the introduction with, "I'm Detective Rogers and this is Detective Barnes.”

You wipe your hands on your pajamas before shaking their hand and inviting them to come in.

“We're here to ask your wife a few questions about Victor Shade." Rogers says. 

You hesitantly glance back to Wanda who suddenly looks so stricken.

"They're here for you." you tell her. 

"Mrs. Maximoff, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Rogers walks over to her and introduces himself and Barnes to her. 

He gets on straightaway with the questions. “Where were you last Tuesday afternoon?"

"I was at work, attending a departmental meeting. Did something happen? Is something wrong?"

The two men look at each other. Then the shorter one, Barnes, says, "Your former student, Mr. Shade was involved in a serious accident."

Wanda gawks at their news. "I–I was told he dropped out of school for reasons that were not disclosed to me and the class. I had no idea. My god, that's... That's terrible." 

“Yes, we’re aware. His family wanted the whole thing in the wraps in case it turned out to be more than just an accident.” Rogers explains with 

“Why would they–” Wanda tries to ask but Barnes interrupts her abruptly.

"Were you close?" he asks. 

He watches your wife as you do–closely, and observing every crease in her features that would give her away. But after months of lying, it's evident how she’s become so good at it. 

“Uh, no,” Wanda shakes her head and smiles through her absolute lie. A strange feeling creeps at you at having to see your wife display such confidence in front of authorities. “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can share apart from how he performed in my class.”

Rogers and Barnes exchange even-handed looks again. Barnes glances at you briefly, before nodding at his partner to continue.

“Here’s the thing, Ma’m,” Rogers takes out a small notebook from his pocket and flips through it. “We found your name and contact in Mr. Shade’s call history. There are dozens of back and forth calls between you and him. This is actually the reason why we wanted to get in touch with you, because you’re the only one aside from a classmate of his that he’s spoken to for the entire semester. We want to know if he ever confided in you or if you knew someone he might have had a disagreement or altercation with.” 

You can feel Barnes studying you again, but you refuse to meet his gaze, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible with just a tinge of curiosity. 

Wanda remains unfazed and says, “We do communicate over the phone. But again, it’s strictly about his studies.”

“What about his studies?”

“He was having a hard time with his final project. It can be any form of art–a sculpture, a painting or maybe even a video, and they need to emulate their deepest and darkest desires to it. H-He needed my input every now and then.” 

“Sounds quite a challenge,” Rogers mutters as he writes on his pad. “And have you seen his painting?”

“No. I highly discourage them from showing me their works in progress. Why?”

It’s Barnes who answers her this time. “There was no painting found in his apartment.”

“Oh, he must have kept it someplace else then.” Wanda says, more to herself. 

They don’t comment on that. 

“When did you see him last?” Rogers again.

“Monday of last week. He came in late to class. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“May we ask why ‘it doesn’t matter’, Ma’m?”

“I no longer work at Westview Institute.”

“Really,” Rogers lifts an eyebrow, taken aback. “Since when?”

“This morning,” Wanda answers. “Personal reasons. You can talk to the dean for the details if you want.”

Rogers simply nods and scribbles on his pad some more.

“Have you ever been in his neighborhood? Ever been to his apartme–” He badgers on but you interrupt him. 

“I think that’s enough,” you say with authority. “I don’t see what other questions could be relevant to your investigation, but my wife’s told you everything she knows.” 

Barnes tries to protest but Rogers signals to him. 

“Very well. Thank you both for your time.” Rogers says as you usher him and Barnes to the door. 

“Wait!” Wanda yells, chest heaving. They both look over their shoulders, waiting. “Is he… is he okay?”

You catch the knowing smirk on Barnes, but it goes away as soon as Rogers warns him with a look. 

You weren’t expecting she’d ask about him despite their obvious suspicions on what kind of relationship they had. It hurts you in a way that you can’t even begin to describe.

“Last we’ve heard he’s stable. But I’m afraid he’s still in a coma. For all we know he might never wake up. But let’s hope for the best, shall we?” Rogers says, and then with a polite nod, leaves with Barnes in tow.

“I, uh, I forgot that I need to formally file a resignation letter.” Wanda says after you close the door behind them. She frantically grabs her purse, all the while avoiding your gaze. She’s not appropriately dressed to go outside, but you don’t point it out to her as you continue to act the part of the oblivious spouse.

***

Wanda returns home three hours later. A nostalgic smile finds its way to the corners of her mouth, when she spots the note you left for her on the fridge.

Went to the park with Sparky, it says. 

The post-it notes were a long-standing tradition. Sometimes you’d put one on her rearview mirror, something along the lines of “have a great day ahead, I love you” written, and Wanda would stick one on your lunchbox that said “don’t skip on the vegetables”. 

And while she blames herself for your recent aloofness, she was hoping to remediate it on your anniversary. She already booked plane tickets to Hawaii and made reservations at a 5-star hotel. Your boss and probably the entire staff of your branch already knows about it, when she filed a week of vacation leave on your behalf. And then she put all the documentation and details of the trip in the box she gave you this morning. 

She planned for everything, except the part where two cops showed up at her house to talk about Vision. Admittedly, he was another thing that was never a part of her plans. Wanda used to deride people who make mistakes, and when asked to explain, could only say ‘it just happened’. She’s heard it too many times in the past, mostly from her ex-boyfriends. 

It just happened. There’s no better way to put it should you ever find out what she did. She wasn’t lonely or unsatisfied or neglected. The only struggle she could think of about her marriage is thinking about what to have for dinner, because you neither complain nor you ever know what you’re in the mood for. 

In actual sense, her life was perfect. Because of you. Because you work for her happiness. The guilt eats at her everyday. But she knows what she’ll lose if she comes clean. And she can’t afford that. She’d rather confront her demons than risk losing you. She tells herself she can’t put you through this kind of pain.

Wanda pulls herself out of her thoughts. She needs to focus on you. She truly hopes Vision would make it, so he can go on to live his life and she’ll live hers with you. 

Wanda pads through the bathroom to run herself a bath. While waiting for the tub to fill, she pensively walks around the bedroom, noting how the room still smells of you. That’s when she  finds her gift on your work desk, next to your laptop. It’s still wrapped in a bow. Wanda frowns, wondering why you didn’t bother to open it. 

All of a sudden, your laptop makes a sound. Acting on impulse, Wanda unlocks your computer with your password–her birthday–and then opens your email account. 

There’s a new email from Natasha. The subject reads ‘in case you need them’.

An odd, overwhelming feeling consumes her, and without thinking, clicks on the email. 

Wanda waits for the message to load with its attachments and then–

She freezes and her stomach drops. 

***

About four pairs of couples attend your small dinner party that you have planned several weeks ago. Your boss, Scott Lang came with his wife and daughter all the way from New York just so he can, in his own words, ‘taste your wife’s famous Paprikash’. Wanda reminded you that you were hosting, and you had spent the rest of the day shopping for ingredients and red wine. She asked if you should cancel, but you figured an evening with seemingly elementary lives would do some good for the both of you. 

And you’re right. It’s not a nuisance as you thought it’d be when you were roped into it. In view of the recent episodes that no doubt defined the lowest point of your life, it feels nice to experience a little normalcy in your home. Your introverted nature makes you a disastrous host to these events, but Wanda is the opposite–she’s a natural at hospitality. She’d go around and entertain people, exchange gossip, and make them take shots. She’d dance in the middle of the room, with that devil-may-care attitude of hers, attracting people to her like moths to flame. But at the end of the night, she’d go home to you and sleep in your arms, because she’s yours. As you and Wanda grew older, you became a more exclusive sort of couple. But on rare occasions like this one, Wanda would put on the old party hat while you’d watch her be the best part of it.

The only problem right now is that Wanda went away. Physically, she’s in the receiving room with everyone, nodding and smiling at whatever warrants a nod and a smile, but you can tell that her mind is off somewhere faraway. 

“So, Y/N, what’s the first thing you wanna do in Maui aside from stuffing yourself with Poke bowls?” Scott asks. 

“I’m sorry?” You tilt your head at him.

“You know, the…” he starts doing what looks like a hula dance, but you shake her head, still not getting any of it. 

“Wait, what? Wanda hasn’t–” Scott looks at Wanda, in panic. “Oh, god, I didn’t mean to spoil it.”

Wanda’s been keeping to herself the entire night. And she’s been drinking a lot, the contents of her glass never quite reaching the bottom before it gets another refill.

“It’s fine, Scott.” Wanda says.

You look at Wanda expectantly, but she just studies her drink. Increasingly annoyed, Wanda downs the rest of her wine and then says, “I was planning to take us to Hawaii on our anniversary.”

“Oh, that’s… that’s pretty awesome.” you say.

Wanda huffs out a mirthless laugh, before standing up and telling everyone she’s going to take a nap.

“Good idea, dear. You’re looking puffy around the eyes.” Emma, another co-worker of yours that Wanda never really warmed up to, quips at her.

Wanda clenches her jaw tightly, but chooses not to engage.

You excuse yourself from the group and follow her out of the room. Wanda feels your presence behind her and spins to look at you for the first time tonight.

“I’m okay. Just go back to your friends.”

“They’re not my friends and you don’t look well.” you say.

“I just need a few minutes to myself,” Wanda offers you a smile, but it’s wobbly. “Please.”

You can’t deny her anything and you can’t stop caring about her. She heads to the stairs before you can utter another word. 

***

After Wanda sees the last of the pairs to the door, she finds you in the bedroom with all the lights off. She can only make out your silhouette–shoulders hunched and perfectly still, while you look out the window to watch the couple trade playful kisses before getting in their car and driving off into the distance. 

From your peripheral view, you watch Wanda approach you slowly, cautiously, like a hunter stalking its prey. It’s easy to guess that she already knows. She has her arms wrapped around herself as a defensive stance, probably afraid of what you might do to her. You nearly let out a laugh at the absurdity of it, because you don’t think you could ever hurt her the way she’s hurt you.

“What happened, Y/N?” she asks as she stops a few feet from where you’re standing. 

“What did you do? Did you cause his ‘accident’?” she carries on with the questions despite your refusal to even acknowledge her existence. 

“Y/N?” Her voice is frantic and presumptuously privileged. 

You don’t owe her anything. Especially answers. Anger burns in your chest like a candle–fragile but with the potential to burn an entire field. You imagined the many ways she’d beg you when you discover each other’s skeletons in the closet. You imagined she’d be on her knees, clinging at your ankles, insisting she loves you and that it will never, ever happen again. You imagined you’d kiss her for one last time, right before you’d tell her that you’re done. 

You hate yourself for allowing her to beat you to a confrontation. For coasting through this mess until Wanda takes the mantle of the interrogator herself. She gets to nag you with questions as if after weighing each other’s transgression, yours turned out to be worse than her cheating. 

“Did you hurt him? You did, didn’t you? Jesus, Y/N. Talk to me,” Wanda pleads, and then out of desperation she screams, “Tell me what you did!”

“No. You tell me what you did.” you whisper menacingly, finally letting go of the restraints you placed yourself in for her sake.

You abruptly turn on your heel in her direction, and then stalk towards her in quick, menacing strides. Wanda cowers, but doesn’t yield. She stands her ground like the courageous heroine of her own movie. 

“How you fucked him over and over and over! How you lied to me…” Your chin begins to tremble and your vision begins to blur. “...over and over and over.” 

“Y/N, please–” 

“Don’t. You don’t get to talk to me now.” 

Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, the weight of her sin materializing in the form of your bared teeth and the vein pulsing in your neck and temple. 

“You didn’t think I’d know? I wouldn’t feel it? I knew from the very first night. Because I know you, Wanda. Every thought. Every look. Every fiber of your being. I know you and I fucking hate you!” You hear yourself yell, as real as the wetness you feel running down your cheeks. 

“I didn’t want to hurt him, I wanted to hurt you!” 

“Oh my god,” Wanda sobs out in anguish, cupping a hand around her mouth. “Y/N…”

There was a time, from long before you were married to her, when loving her broke your heart more than it made it whole. You didn’t think it’d happen again, but even if it did, you thought you’d find a way. You’d always find a way for Wanda.

You were happy together, weren’t you? Before this happened, she never gave any indication that she wasn’t. She made plans with you. Five-year, ten-year plans that meant she wanted to continue being with you. In return, you gave it everything you have and more. You turned the dreams into blueprints, and from blueprints into milestones. 

The arbitrary nature of her infidelity is what shocked you the most. It meant you couldn’t have done anything to prevent this. It wasn’t up to you. Love is a gamble and you’ve lost.

You’re both on the floor now. You, leaning against the side of the bed, and Wanda, hugging her knees to her chest as sobs continue to rack her body. 

When both of you can breathe again, it’s Wanda who breaks the silence. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

As much as you need to hear it, an apology now is just a drop in the ocean. Wanda can’t unfuck Vision. You can’t un-crack his skull. 

A thought suddenly occurs in your muddled brain.

“Was there anyone else aside from him?” you ask.

“No.”

“He must be really special then.”

She shakes her head furiously, denying it.

Against your better judgment, you ask the one thing that’s been plaguing you since you learned of her lover’s name. “Do you love him?”

“No,” Wanda mumbles without a second thought. “I thought I did, but no.” 

She didn’t love him. But it still kills you to know that it definitely crossed her mind that she might’ve felt something for someone else.

“Did you…” You stare intently at the ceiling, willing gravity to pull back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. “...ever love me?”

“I love you,” Wanda says, her voice low and trembling, though she dares to look you in the eye. “I know how fucked up that sounds to you right now. But I do, I love you, Y/N.”

“You know,” You wince at the way your voice falters. You’re so tired and dehydrated, and your head is starting to hurt. Your lips quirk up in a bitter half-smile. “You have such a lovely way of showing it.” 

Wanda lets her legs slide straight in front of her as she openly weeps into her hands. Under different circumstances you’d be out the door right this second, getting all her favorite snacks and a bouquet of flowers. You have loved her for so long. 

“You should’ve just killed me. I don’t see any difference. At least there’s no pain in being dead.” you say after some time.

“Baby, don’t say that.” Wanda hiccups, struggling to control the spasms in her chest. 

“You don’t get to call me that anymore. Even hearing you say my name makes me sick.”

Wanda looks away, like she’s been slapped.

“You can stay,” you say, and Wanda looks up at you with hope. “In this house. For as long as you want. But I’m leaving.”

“No. Don’t leave.”

But you’re already pulling your wedding ring off your finger even as she rushes to kiss you roughly. Wanda pours everything in this one kiss. She has played all the cards she’s dealt with, and this is her final, desperate move. 

As for you, you take it for what it is: a goodbye. It’s messy and salty, and everything anyone could ever hope for in a last kiss. When it’s over, Wanda ducks her head under your chin. She finds purchase in the area just above your heart, trying to commit to memory the rhythm of your heartbeat. 

You don’t have it in you to push her away, but you take the hand of hers that’s still cupping your face, and put the cold metal that once symbolized your commitment to her, in her fevered palm. And then very gently, you force her fingers to close around it. Albeit the numbness in your legs, you manage to push yourself up into a standing position and out of Wanda’s grasp. 

“This isn’t over. It can’t be over.” you hear Wanda speak, but you’re not sure if it’s to you or to herself. 

Out in the hallway, you examine the finger where your wedding ring had been. It’s going to take some time before its mark on your skin completely fades away.

***

A Week Later

“He’s awake.” 

Natasha sits across from you in the diner. She’s back in town to pick you up and drive you back to her condo in Manhattan, where you will be staying for a while until you find your own place. 

You swallow and take a breath, poking at your scrambled eggs. 

She’s wary of you–this zombie-esque version of you. And it’s not only apparent in your behavior, the gauntness of your cheek is more noticeable, and your clavicle more protruded. You look like you’ve aged ten years overnight in as little as two weeks. 

“He doesn’t remember anything.” she adds and this gets your attention.

“How convenient.” you say.

“Look, Y/N. You don’t need to act tough around me. Because I can see right through every mask you have on. You want me to prove it? Let me prove it.”

“Nat, just–”

“You’re more relieved to know that he’s woken up, than him not remembering anything. You’re compassionate to a fault. There can’t be a purer soul than yours.”

Your best friend’s impassioned speech puts a small but genuine smile on your face. Natasha does a little victory dance with imaginary pompoms, and the laughter comes easily to you. 

“I know I have no right to say this, nor do I really understand what you’re feeling right now. But, Y/N, someone will come along and take every broken piece of you back together. They will love you so hard, you’re gonna have to actually beg them to ease off.”

You humor her. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

In all honesty, it’s hard to think about the far-off future without the stinging reminder that Wanda is not in it. But as you sit idly in diner for a very late brunch–and might as well call it lunch–you realize that you’re not left entirely empty-handed. You have Natasha. You have the rest of your friends back in New York, although you haven’t talked to them much lately. You have your career that is getting a fresh start at a new company. Wanda has gotten custody of Sparky. As much as you love him, you have a feeling that she needs him more than you do. 

The point is, you’ve already seen the bottom of the sea, and it’s time to break the surface.

“As much as I hate your wife…soon-to-be ex-wife… or whatever,” Natasha shoots daggers at someone behind you. “She’s here to talk to you.” 

“Did she put you up to this?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“She called me to collect a favor, and this is the best bargain we managed. She’s not going to contact me anymore after this.” Natasha says, and then she gets up from her seat and takes her plate of bacon and eggs to enjoy at another table. 

You hear tentative footsteps approach the booth and brace yourself to face Wanda. 

Much to your chagrin, she looks as immaculate as ever in her parka over a simple white v-neck and high-waisted jeans, her glossy red hair cascading in perfect waves past her chest. 

“Hey,” she says and slides into the booth with you.

You take a huge bite of your Reuben sandwich. “Hi, Wanda.” 

“Sorry for cornering you like this. You rarely return my calls and it’s been almost impossible to match our schedules.”

You concentrate on chewing your food, trying to appear perfectly disinterested in what she’s saying. 

“Natasha told me you’re already talking to divorce lawyers,” Wanda pauses to catch your eye, and you see no traces of sharpness in them. Her green eyes are bright with determination. “If you’re decided that it’s what you really want, then I’ll give it to you. I’ll cooperate.”

You look at her from beneath your dark lashes. “Okay.” 

Wanda swallows nervously and interlocks her fingers on top of the table. You can’t explain it, but your eyes automatically search for the wedding band in her left hand.

It’s still there. 

“I, uh, got something for you.” she says. 

“No, thanks.” you say.

“But it’s yours.” she argues softly, digging for something in her jacket. You watch her pull out a ring box and place it in front of you.

“What’s this?”

“Your wedding ring.” She says matter-of-factly. 

“I don’t want–” 

“I don’t care. I’m giving it back to you, and I’m keeping mine. You can do whatever you like with it. But I can’t keep it for you.”

You consider it momentarily, what she’s asking of you. In hindsight, it makes sense that she wouldn’t want to hold onto the residual love you have for her that the ring represents. 

“Fine.” You reach for the small box and Wanda heaves a sigh. 

“So, you have your ring back, and I’ll sign the divorce papers when they’re ready.” Wanda recites mechanically, her voice thinning towards the end of her sentence, as if she’s not at all prepared for what she needs to say to you next. 

“Then, I’ll come for you.”

You almost spit out your coffee. Some of it actually dribbles past your lips and you quickly grab a napkin to wipe your mouth. She tenderly smiles at your little accident, finding your clumsiness endearing. 

You gape at her, unable to think of a response.

“I didn’t want to believe you when you told me that night that you hated me. But I guess that’s better than indifference.” Wanda’s smile turns into a sad amusement at herself. 

“I don’t hate you, Wanda,” It’s the truth. Even though anger is the only emotion you can process most days, you’ve only ever hated the way she makes you feel. 

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” she laments. “Thank you.”

You can tell she has more to say and you wait. 

“I’m not going to give up on you, Y/N. On us. What we have, and I’ve thought a lot about it, is something I’ll never find in another.” Wanda says, giving you a long, level look. 

“I’m not telling you this to get a reaction out of you. I know you’re not exactly thrilled at the idea of me pursuing you, but,” she falters, the first sign of her vulnerability. “This time, I want you to know everything. I don’t want you to be blindsided by my intentions, so I’m giving you a heads-up.” 

“Wands,” The nickname rolls off your tongue before you can stop it. “You can’t torture yourself like this.” 

“I’m not,” she assures you. “I just refuse to give up on my dream.” 

You’re my dream, Wanda had written in her vows. You remember it, clear as day.

Wanda gets up to leave. “I’ll see you soon.” 

As soon as Wanda exits to her car, Natasha returns to the booth with a strawberry milkshake in hand. 

“Is it over?” she asks offhandedly, referring to your conversation with Wanda.

You hesitate, then look at her with an unreadable expression on your face. You give her the only answer that feels right to you:

“For now.”

[sketchy-rosewitch]

Blood Still Stains the Mind: Bo Sinclair x f!reader

A/N: y’all what is up with me and writing these slashers with some soft shit.

Warnings: angst, graphic death scene, vomiting, shock, blood (duh). Comfort at end. Maybe ooc Bo but idc.

Masterlist

You hated nights like this. Bo was out killing a group of tourists and you had to sit there at home and worry about him.

Yes you knew about the killings, you just ignored that aspect. You personally couldn’t kill anyone. It wasn’t you, and you know you can’t stop Bo or Vincent or even Lester from doing what they do. Lure tourists in, chase them down, kill them, turn them into wax figures.

You told Bo this when he decided to keep you alive. So he often told you when people were in Ambrose. You’d just sit in your shared bedroom if the victims were over or stay in the house if he never brought them back.

Right now, you were finishing dinner. It would be a late dinner, you’d hope Bo would be home soon. Then again sometimes he’d be out until the early hours of the morning. You always tried to accommodate for him so he didn’t have to eat a cold meal or leftovers.

The front door squeaks open. You smile. “Perfect timing Baby!” You shout over your shoulder.

Before you know it there’s panting. Panting that doesn’t sound Bo at all. You turn off the stove with a click, eyes wide you turn slowly.

A man who looks to be in his late 20’s starts running towards you making you let out a small shriek.

He is manic, his hands are shaking and he’s frantic with his movements.

You don’t know what to do.

“You! You have to help me! There’s a serial killer out there! He-he took my fucking wife and turned her to a wax figure! All of the wax figures are human!” He grabs your shoulders and shakes you. Your adrenaline begins to rise. You lie.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about sir…” You voice quivers and you try to stay calm. You hadn’t seen a single victim alive in your time here. What the fuck were you supposed to do?

“You have to! That Sinclair guy! The guy who owns the fuckin’ auto shop! He’s a killer!”

You look into the man’s constant moving eyes and start to shake, your fight or flight kicks in.

“Just. Help. Me!”

Your body is leaned against the sink, the recently washed dishes still have yet to be put away by Bo.

You look right and grab a knife, plunging it into the man’s chest.

Oh fuck…

He stumbles back. You look at him before grabbing the knife out of him and stabbing him.

One. Two, three, four.

Both hands, hoping to hit a major artery. You let out a loud sob.

The man’s voice gurgles as blood comes from his mouth and spits everywhere. You don’t see or hear it.

You don’t feel as the blood splatters on your face.

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen.

You don’t realize what you’ve done. He’s dead. You can’t stop though. He broke in, he touched you, if he escaped, Bo, his brothers. A death sentence for each of them. You felt trapped. What would the police do with you? Would you get the same death sentence?

You cry and cry and cry. The tears and snot mix with the blood on your face.

Your body calms and you realize what happened. The knife drops, a smell of death occurs in your nostrils.

You gag and quickly grab the kitchen trash can, not wanting to have to clean up vomit too.

Your body curls inward as you retch. You puke into the trash can and cry.

You can’t stop puking even after bile comes up. Your stomach hurts. You can’t pull yourself away from the trashcan though.

The front door opens again.

You let out a loud uncontrollable croak. Boots come running in and he’s there.

Bo.

You look at him. Your face and clothes are a mess. You sniffle and try and wipe your tears, which causes blood to smear on your face. You lip quivers. You try and make yourself small against the cabinet.

“Oh sweetheart.” Bo sighs, you let out a whine.

You’re a monster. You killed a man when you said you would never do it. You have blood all over you. You’ve seen a dead body. You caused that dead body.

Bo lifts you in his strong arms. He carries you into the bathroom and starts a bath.

“I didn’t mean to kill him Bo. He just scared me.” You admit.

“It’s okay sweetheart.” Bo’s voice soothes you. It’s the first and probably only time he uses a soft voice with you.

Bo carefully strips you down and guides you into the tub. The water turns a coppery color and you let a sob again.

The water is hot. It burns your flesh. You don’t mind, you think you deserve it. Bo rolls up his sleeves and takes a cup, dunking it in the water and pouring it over your head. He does this a few times then takes shampoo and scrubs it in, getting the blood and grime out of your hair.

You gag again and Bo quickly grabs the bathroom trashcan and puts it next to the tub. Not that there was anything to come up. He takes a wash cloth and wipes your face clean of blood, snot, and tears.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinkin’ any of them would come up to the house. He should’ve been long gone. Must’ve gotten out. I’m so sorry baby.”

You stay silent.

“You think you can stand up?”

You turn your head towards him and nod.

He pulls the plug on the tub, before you even have time to get up, he’s taking his clothes off.

“Bo I’m really-“

“We ain’t doing nothing but having a shower together. You’re in shock. Will probably be in shock for a few days, weeks, even months. To think you’re in the mood for that is stupid.”

Bo gets in and starts the shower. “I didn’t even wash your shampoo out.”

The water beats down your back, you stand and carefully hug him. Your body can’t cry anymore so you just bury your face in his chest.

He washes the the shampoo from your hair then rubs your back gently, guiding his middle finger down your spine and kissing your forehead.

“I ain’t ever letting you experience that again.”

[jadequeen88]

Smart Girls Make Fast Learners

NSFW 18+ ONLY. MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

My contribution to the BNHarem’s monthly collab. The theme was SEx work. ⛓This piece is a first real deep dive into darker themes and was actually really, really exciting to write. 🖤 A massive thanks to my dear friend @libiraki​ for beta reading this.

TW: yandere behavior, toxic relationship, degradation, non-con, dub-con, degradation/praise kinks, mind break, oral (M and F receiving), over stim, loss of virginity, mentions of physical violence.

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone this type of relationship. This is a work of fiction and if this happens IRL please get out of the relationship!

There is a very specific type of dread that occurs when you discover that the person you built your world around has been lying to you. Tamaki Amajiki was experiencing this brand of betrayal for the first time in his twenty-one years on a rainy Tuesday in October in the dim lighting of your dorm room. His grip tightened around the open laptop as he stared at glimpses of flesh in the thumbnails of the many, many videos posted to the site. Previous live streams with thousands of views. He gulped down the bile in his throat as he scrolled through the videos. His shock and disgust morphed into a pure rage as he counted up the live streams that you’d had since first kissing him. 12. There had been twelve. Three times a week for the past four weeks. 

Those big doe eyes that looked into his eyes as you tentatively licked the tip of his cock for the first time… mere hours later they were rolling in the back of your head as you got off for strangers on the internet. He couldn’t take it. You were his first… everything… he knew that you hadn’t been innocent in your past. The way your tongue expertly wound around his when you first kissed him amongst your plush pillows and goose-down comforter reminded him of the fact. The low violet LED lighting of your bedroom made him feel like the two of you were in your own ethereal world. He could forgive you for not waiting for him as he’d waited for you. 

For the past four years, he kept to the shadows. He was there when the football player from freshman year cheated on you with one of your terrible friends (and when it happened the second, third, fourth time). He was there to binge your favorite shows with you (“*insert current guy you were fucking* just doesn’t get it, he’s not into it. I’m so glad I’ve got you to watch it with!”) He bit back the heartache that would wash over him when you’d pet him and coo over him… you didn’t see him as a man. He wanted to bend you over and prove he could fuck your brains out. He KNOWS he’d be perfect for you. But he never rejected the attention. He smiled and accepted whatever crumbs fell from your table. Whether it be helping you study or letting you complain about your shitty friends or your shitty jock boyfriends or your shitty parents… He gave and gave and gave… until that one day, 35 days ago to be exact, a shift in the tide occurred.

 ⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸

“So why don’t you have a girlfriend, Tama-kun?”

“Wh-wha?”

Tamaki dropped the pencil he’d been using and before he could bend to get it himself, your hand was on his thigh and he was putty in your grasp. You giggled and cooed over him like you always did, but this time you did it while assaulting his mouth and neck with your skilled tongue. This time, for the first time, you made Tamaki feel like a man. Like YOUR man.

⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸

Over the next few weeks, Tamaki had become quite skilled in pleasing a woman. It only took a little guidance to have him sucking at your clit with just the right amount of pressure. He learned on his own how to couple that with his long, delicate fingers twisting and pumping in and out of your slick hole. You’d cling to his silky hair, pulling him closer as a constant stream of praise tumbled from your lips:

“No one has ever made me feel this good.”

“Your fingers are perfect Tama-kun”.

“I love your mouth on me so much, baby.”

The first time you came on his face, Tamaki knew there was a god because he’d found heaven between your thighs.

But that was gone now… ripped away with one mouse click on the night he was going to finally give you his virginity. He had held on to it like it was a treasure. A treasure he’d present to you one day wrapped up in life-long devotion and worship... But Tamaki wasn’t in heaven anymore. He wasn’t going to worship you tonight. For the first time since laying eyes on you, Tamaki wanted to hurt you.

⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸

You turned the shower off and dried yourself. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. You felt like this was going to be the first time giving your body to someone. Tonight was a redo. You were wiping the slate clean. Your first time would no longer be underneath the football captain in the passenger seat of his truck, left feeling sore and unsatisfied. It was going to be with the guy you should have noticed long ago. It would be soft and slow… passionate and filled with sweet words and caresses… limbs tangled in soft sheets that smell like lavender and vanilla. 

You applied your lotion and moisturized your face. The red lace adorning your body was arranged perfectly, accentuating the soft swell of your hips and chest. With one last glance in the mirror and adjustment of your bra, you opened the door to the cool air of your dorm room…

...And saw Tamaki looking murderous. 

His eyes slowly left the screen to meet your gaze. His tear-stained face had never looked this harsh. His normally sweet eyes were narrowed and red from crying. The sweet lips you’d licked and sucked with such tenderness were hard and cold as they pulled upward in a grimace.

The only thing he said before rising from the bed and setting aside your laptop was your camgirl username. Then he was on you before you could draw a breath to explain.

⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸

Tamaki always thought he liked you best on top of him showering him with kisses and threading your fingers through his hair, but he had to admit… having your arms tied to a bed frame with the silky sash of your bathrobe cutting into your skin was doing things to him. When you sniffled, face stained with tears and snot, his dick twitched in his boxers. The whines you were choking back behind the silky red panties stuffed down your throat sent chills up his spine. You had to learn the hard way not to spit them out after a harsh slap echoed against your skin when you fought back the first time.

Tamaki stood back to survey the mess of skin, spit, and tears for a moment. You were a blank canvas for him to mark up with his rage and lust. You tried to hide away your bare pussy by clenching your thighs together. It only spurred him on.

“Do you have any clue what you’ve done?” he hovered over you, sleek muscles rippling over your own soft body, “I waited, and waited, and WAITED,” he bit down on the side of your exposed neck and you screamed behind the silky gag, trying your best not to expel it from your mouth and receive more punishment.

“I want to give you everything, Y/N,” he licks over the bite, almost apologetically, “I don’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want it to happen like this… FUCK, why?! Why did you ruin this?” his long fingers dug into your cheeks as he forced you to meet his fiery gaze. You couldn’t help whimpering and sniffling back more clear runny snot. You were so humiliated at how disheveled and disgusting you must look. His head ducked into the soft spot between your neck and shoulder and you felt him sob. 

Despite the abuse he’d inflicted upon you in the last ten minutes, you nuzzled your cheek into the top of his head in an attempt to comfort him. And he let you… he hated himself for it and he hated you for making this all so hard for him.

“No… no, no, no,” he rose from the bed to set up your ring-light and laptop, ice running through your veins at the sight. Your mind couldn’t accept what was about to happen.

“I’m... I’m not letting you get away with this,” he shook his head and pulled at his hair as he finished setting everything up, “If you’re insisting on being a slut, you’ll be MY slut. And everyone will know…” he jerked your ankle to force you flat on your back.

⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸

Maybe if he’d let the gag out of your mouth, you’d be able to tell him this was just a job to you. That it was clinical… that he was the only one who had ever been able to get you off, that his face was the only one you’d come on… that you needed the money since your parents had disowned you…

But you only laid there, accepting whatever he was going to dish out. You knew he was hurt. You weren’t stupid. You overlooked him while knowing how he felt about you. It took years of horrible one-night stands and countless frat parties pretending that whatever guy you’d picked that night was interesting for you to come to your senses. You hated yourself for being so blind for so long… You adored Tamaki, truly. And you hated yourself for all the times you’d hurt him… so you swallowed your fear and tried to prepare yourself for whatever came next.

⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸

Any soft parts of Tamaki that you’d grown to love were gone, hardened by heartache and desperation. After angling the laptop to get the perfect shot, he started the live stream countdown. Subscribers started trickling in, commenting on how this was a pleasant surprise since it wasn’t one of your regularly scheduled streams. You shut your eyes to pretend this wasn’t real.

Without fanfare or warning, Tamaki ripped apart your thighs, exposing your bare slit. A raw shrill was pulled from your lungs, your back arching from the sting of an abrupt slap. Neurons fired off in your brain… were you in pain? Was it pleasure?

“Since my girlfriend likes to keep secrets from me, I can’t trust what comes out of her whore mouth,” he emphasized his point by stuffing his fingers past your lips, pushing the soaked silk further into your throat, “So she’s going to keep this gag right here until I can fuck the truth out of her,” he trailed his fingers along your reddened folds. Were you getting wet? Horror and shame blossomed in your chest. The fact that you were growing aroused wasn’t lost on Tamaki. His foreign, sadistic grin was back… aimed directly into your soul.  

“So that’s what you like, huh?” His nails bit into your thighs leaving tiny crescents behind, “I’ve been too nice? Too soft?” He pushed your thighs impossibly wide, the stretch causing you to moan. He hovered over your core, onyx orbs blown wide with a mix of hate and lust. Tamaki looked like the devil himself and you wondered just how fucked up you were for wanting his punishment.

He opened his mouth and lolled out his tongue, never severing the desperate gaze you both shared, his intertwined with hunger, yours with fear. You’d never noticed how long and thick his tongue was and couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel caressing every ridge and crevice of your inner walls. He flattened the warm, wet muscle and pressed it along your slit. As he slowly slid it closer and closer to your burning clit, you whimpered and bucked your hips chasing the pleasure you knew he was capable of giving… but this was not your sweet boy and he wasn’t doing any of this for your pleasure.

He slung his arm over your lower stomach and growled into your drenched lips. You were pinned down, helpless against his torturous tongue. Fresh tears pricked at your eyes as you remembered how he’d let you pet him and buck into his face, how sweetly he’d ease you into a gentle release. Not this time… it was all teeth and sharp sucks, his tongue forcing you open violently. You were being shoved over a cliff and despite the horror and violence of what was happening to you. You were approaching an orgasmic state at record speed. Tamaki caught on and doubled down. The arm that wasn’t pinning you into the mattress pulled your leg down straight, your knee in a death grip. The new angle made the sensations even more intense. His face pressed harder into your core and you noticed that at some point, he’d started weeping, small sobs vibrating against your skin. The overwhelming mix of emotions and the vigor in which he was eating you shoved you over the edge.

He kept going along at the same speed with the same determination through your orgasm until it became painful. You pushed past it as best you could, allowing him to sob into your over-sensitive skin until he had his fill. As the pain started intermingling with pleasure, your legs shook and the gag couldn’t hold your screams back any longer. You released against his tongue once more, both of you sobbing. He laid against your thigh for what felt like an eternity before he lifted himself to lay on top of you, his hip bones digging into your soft thighs. You could feel the bulge through the thin material of his boxer briefs. Your hips rose to meet it, a pleading gesture filled with the desire to comfort and please him. Your eagerness encourages his mercy, there’s a meek cry that leaves your lips when the damp silk slips from between your teeth.

“Please baby… I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you…” your voice was as weak as a kitten’s cry and Tamaki couldn’t deny it made his heart (his dick) clench.

“Say it…” his lips were close enough to kiss, but you resisted… fearful of what he’d do if you did.

“Say what, Tama?” your eyes were wide with concern and confusion. You were desperate to please him.

He turned your face to the camera that you’d forgotten was there and the gravity of the situation crashed around you again. New tears leaked from your stinging eyes as Tamaki whispered into your ear.

“Say that you’re a lying whore…”

“I..I’m a lying whore…”

The last syllable broke as your abused throat grew accustomed to speaking again. He rewarded you with a soft kiss to your cheek and your eyes closed at the tender gesture. The familiar pain in your chest welled to the surface causing even more tears to escape.

“And tell everyone that you’re my own personal slut”

You repeated the phrase to the audience behind the screen and he hummed with approval, trailing one finger along your wet cheek. 

“Good girl…” the praise sent shivers through your wrecked body.

“And tell them from now on, your boyfriend will be the only one making you come… that they only get to see you be HIS slut.”

You noticed the chat going absolutely haywire at your announcement. Before Tamaki shut your laptop, you realized you’d made three times as much as you’d ever made before and a twisted sense of accomplishment filled your cloudy mind.

“Please,” your voice came out in a croak, “Please untie me. I wanna make it up to you,” his clothed bulge was burning into your core and you could tell he was close to breaking.

“Please let me make you feel good. I’m so, so sorry,” the clench of your thighs around his waist made him whimper.

He reluctantly pulled away to sit on the foot of the bed. The way he curled in on himself hugging his knees made him appear so small, so fragile… a complete change from the man who’d just manhandled you into restraints.

“You’re a liar…” you almost didn’t hear the whisper, his face buried into his knees.

“Please!” you were losing feeling in your hands and all you wanted was to be free to comfort him.

His eyes met yours and it was your Tamaki again... Your sweet boy… the snarling, green beast that threatened to devour you was sleeping now after it reached its fill of violence. He crawled over your body and released your restraint. Before you even regained feeling in your hands, you wrapped your arms around him. You littered his collarbone with sweet kisses and apologetic sobs. He began to melt into your affectionate gestures and you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him impossibly close. Wet lips met and your tongues fought against each other for dominance. Hips began to roll against each other, increasing pressure until you both gasped. 

The violence was gone, but this was still not a gentle coupling like you’d been planning. Tamaki pulled away and freed his straining cock from his boxers. The skin-to-skin contact made your eyes roll back into your skull. You felt his long fingers grasp your throat, squeezing to remind you just how powerful they were. You shuddered in response, arching upward into his touch, chasing that high his dominance was giving you.

With one swift motion, Tamaki speared you onto his cock. With the minimal prep he’d given you, the stretch was agonizing. This was by far the largest cock you’d ever taken and it stole your breath from your aching lungs. You moaned earning a visceral reaction from the boy on top of you.  

Tamaki stayed as still as he could. He refused to come so soon… not when he’d waited so long for this. He tightened his grip on your throat and tentatively rocked his hips into yours. It didn’t take long for it to progress into the most frantic love-making you’d ever experienced.

There was no other way to describe it, he was hate fucking you… biting and sucking your chest until blood bloomed under your skin… hammering into your sore, sticky cunt with total abandon… he was using you like a toy, taking out all his frustrations on your body.

It was ecstasy.

When his hips stuttered as he met his release, the spasms of his tip against your gummy walls sent you into a painful orgasm. You were spent and it seemed like he was too. Your fingers twitched over the crown of his head, wanting to run your fingers through his hair but too scared to initiate any contact with him. As if he could read your mind, he grabbed your hand and placed it on his head. You sighed and began carding through the tangles, gently undoing them. You felt a stream of tears running down your chest as you worked your fingers through his strands. Lifting his face gently, you met his teary gaze with your own.

“Don’t…” he drew in a shuddering breath, “ever lie to me like that again…” the monster behind his eyes stirred quietly, a malicious glint in his eye, before shifting back into your gentle boyfriend. 

“Never, I swear to you, baby…” he lets you lift his chin gently to meet your lips. His eyes close and he sighs into your kiss. His muscles relax and when his eyes open again, his warm, adoring expression falls over your face. The hand that wanted to choke the life out of your eyes minutes ago now caresses your jaw tenderly,

“I trust you…” his lips turn up into a grin that’s just a little too wide, “Because you’re a smart girl, aren’t you?” his top lip brushed against your still trembling bottom lip…

“Y-yes…”

You were fucked. This whole situation was fucked up and you weren’t blind to the fact. But as Tamaki nuzzled into your neck placing soft kisses and whispering praises into your skin, you let yourself bask in the gentleness of the moment…

Because you were a smart girl and smart girls learn their lessons quickly... 

[hallelujahmeatgod]

HAIKYUU CHARACTERS WHEN YOU PRANK THEM TELLING THEM YOU DON’T WANT TO SHARE A STRAW

+warning/s: There’s really none, just cursing is all.

+word count: 2227

+note: The characters are very random because they’re the first ones I had an idea for. I want to write for the other ones too, so please do tell me what you guys think about this one. 

KUROO

"What did you just say?" He asked, eyes wide from shock.

"I said, grab another straw if you want to take a sip of my drink. I don't want to share a straw." I said, as calmly as I can, immediately looking away from him. Because Lord knows I just want to laugh at his dumbfounded face right now.

He gave me a sarcastic laugh. A laugh that says "are you serious right now?"

I raised a brow at him acting like I don't have a clue as to why he's acting the way he is. 

And that was the last straw for him.

"So you literally shove your tongue down my throat and you wouldn't share a straw with me? What's that about?" He said angrily, looking at me with daggers in his eyes.

I laughed and instantly covered his mouth, looking around at the café. "Bitch, shut your mouth. I was just playing with you." I whisper-yelled, while trying to control my laughter.

He rolled his eyes and snatched away my drink. Muttering a "not funny" under his breath, as I continue laughing at him.

KIYOOMI

"Can I try yours?" Omi asked calmly.

I nodded, but before he could grab my drink I pulled it back a bit. "Oh-- can you not use my straw though?" I said as innocently as I can. 

He rolled his eyes at me then scoffed. I thought he's actually gonna get riled up, but that's until he said "Brave of you to assume that I'll share a straw with you."

I gave him a dumb look. What?

He raised his brows at me, a sly smirk making its way to his lips. "I'm literally afraid of all kinds of germs, and you are no exception." 

Did I really just forget that I'm in a relationship with a germaphobe?

"Whatever" I said, pouting.

I handed him a new straw but then he gave me a look of disgust. 

Can I be any more disgusting to this guy?

"Now you're trying to give me a plastic straw? You turtle murderer! Get that animosity away from me." He said, as he dramatically whipped a metal one from his bag. 

Just how many does he have in his bag?

"Now, repent from your sins and start using this babe." 

BOKUTO

"WHAT?!" His dramatic ass yelled.

"Sit your ass down, right now!" I ordered like a mom.

I pulled him back beside me on the couch as he looked at me sadly.

"What do you mean we can't share a straw? We kiss all the time though and we share more saliva doing that than just sharing a straw." He pouted. 

Which is so cute that I had to stop myself from just pinching his cheeks and hugging him.

"I just don't want to share a straw today, okay? Just get another one. I have some in one of the drawers in the kitchen." I said, scrolling through my phone so that it'll seem like it's not a big deal.

I kept on scrolling, but then I realized after a while that he's still beside me.

 When I looked at him, I KID YOU NOT, there's tears welling on his eyes threatening to fall. His lips even quivering as he tried holding back the tears.

I instantly held his face and pulled him close. "Oh my, Bo, what's wrong?"

When asked he became more emotional and the tears finally fell. "You wouldn't share a straw with me." He said, sobbing. So I pulled him into a hug.

"Bo, stop crying. I was literally just joking, no need to cry you big baby." I said, chuckling lightly as I ruffled his hair.

He instantly pulled away, looking at me expectantly. "Huh? You're not for real? I can use your straw? You're not disgusted?" He asked and I nodded, giving him a warm smile.

He jumped at me and gave me a bear hug. "I don't like that joke though" He said, pulling away enough so he could look at me.

"I'm sorry, Bo. I won't do it again."

"YAYYYYYY!" He exclaimed, as snot trickled down from his nose. This kid.

"Let's wipe that snot away first though before you come close to my straw, yeah?"

OIKAWA 

(Now this is about to turn into a soap opera. Everyone knows this dude is the queen of all drama queens)

"Tooru, baby, use another straw." I said, not even sparing him a glance. Eyes focused on the anime we’re watching.

No reply. No reaction. No movements for a solid moment.

Eventually, he sighed then stood up. I heard him shuffling around so I thought he's actually gonna grab a straw for himself. Y'know, be compliant for once?

But since we're talking about a professional drama queen here, that obviously isn't happening. Duh.

"28th of August, in the year of the Lord. It's a warm afternoon, an afternoon filled with sunlight. Everything's bright, sunny, and happy. But just as everything is fitting into place, everything turned dark '' He monologues, standing at my balcony.

Oh Lord, save me.

"It is on that one afternoon, that Oikawa Tooru's heart has been shattered into million little pieces. It's shattered so good that no glue, not even E6000 glue, can put it back together." He continued, fake crying. Looking back at me once in a while to see if I'm looking at his drama. Then just exaggerating even more, putting his all into it.

I rolled my eyes at him, completely done with him.

"I thought there was love. I thought we felt the same way, that we're on the same page. But I was greatly mistaken! Nothing's fine. I'm torn. I'm all out of faith and this is how I feel. I'm cold and I'm ashamed, not lying naked on the floor-- but I'll think about it. Illusions never change into something real--"

"DUMBASS JUST TAKE A FUCKING SIP. JUST SHUT UP"

And that's all that needs to be said. He darted towards me and easily drank half of my drink, cuddling next to me.

"Now is that hard? It isn't right?" He teased, which earned him a solid smack on the head.

ASAHI

"Grab another straw for you to use, Asahi" I called out to him as he stood up to get some more snacks after he announced that he wanted to try my drink.

"What did I do this time?" He asked quietly when he got back, dropping the snacks on the table.

"What do you mean? Did you do anything?" I asked him back.

He crouched down in front of me so we're at eye level. "You just told me to use another straw. So what did I do, woman?"

At this I immediately broke into a fit of laughter, which made him confused yet concerned. 

"You're scaring me right now babe."

"Ohhh~ Asahi, you really are too precious." 

"Are you being sarcastic right now? Is that you getting more angry at me for whatever reason? Wait! Are you actually angry at me? What did I do--"

"YO! Breathe." I clamped a hand on his mouth. "Who said I was angry?"

"Well you don't wanna share a straw so I'm assuming you hate me right now" He shrugged.

I ruffled his hair and lightly pinched his cheek. 

"I was just messing with you, so no need to be a panic mess." I reassured, caressing his face ever so softly.

His face instantly calmed as he leaned onto my hand. "Don't do that. You know I panic easily over the smallest things. I was about to have a heart attack." he pouted.

I kissed his cheek and offered him my drink, and he happily took a sip.

"Wait till Daichi hears this" I chuckled, earning a groan from him as he hid his face from me.

KAGEYAMA

I'm getting so impatient. 

Impatient for Kageyama to ask for a sip of my drink so I can mess with him.

Why wouldn't he just ask? He kept on eyeing it yet still wouldn't ask for a sip.

"You know, eyeing my drink like that wouldn't make you taste it. If you want a sip, get another straw." I said as if I don't care, when in reality I'm watching his every move and expression.

His eyes then diverted from the drink to me, raising a brow. What's he raising his brow for?

"Bold of you to assume I'd like any of that." He said lazily.

Me=Jaw dislocated.

I looked at him not knowing what to say. What does he mean? 

"Huh?" Was all my dumbass could muster.

"As if I'd drink that '' He said, sticking out his tongue in disgust. He took a sip from his milk and smiled, completely satisfied. "I'm all good with my milk, it makes my bones stronger. You can close your mouth now." 

"B-but you kept on eyeing it"

"Yeah I did. Cause I was asking myself how someone can even consider that a drink."

USHIJIMA

"Can I please have a small sip of your drink? That seems like a new flavor I have yet to try. So if you don't mind." Ushijima asked beside me, looking straight into my eyes as he did so.

Does he really have to be this serious and proper asking for a sip? 

I'll never understand how his robotic self works, but I still love it though. I actually find it cute, so it took a lot from me to not break character.

"Sure thing. Just get yourself a new straw." I said, pushing my drink towards him.

I can see he's quite surprised by that since he didn't just do it right away. He gave me a look but then again didn't really say anything. He stood up from our booth and went to get a new straw.

I almost facepalmed when he did so, but then again what was I expecting? That he'd go crazy over it? That he'd have a big reaction? This is Ushijima we're talking about. The only time you'll see a big reaction from him is when that kid Hinata goes head to head with him or when he sees Oikawa CAUSE WHY THE HECK DIDN'T YOU ATTEND SHIRATORIZAWA, DUMMY!

Ushijima is very simple and calm, so he doesn't make a fuss about things easily.

When he got back he just silently put his straw in and took a sip. "That's quite good but not as good as the one you always get." He said honestly. Typical Ushijima.

We were silent for a little bit. Usually I'd be talking his ears off by now with all the gossip I've found out. But I'm still a tiny bit down because of his lack of reaction.

"You're weird today" He said out of the blue.

"What?" I asked, choking a bit from my drink.

Lost. That's what I am. He doesn't really blurt out things like that. I mean, yeah, if he finds something weird, mostly if you're asking him about it he'll say it's weird. But he doesn't really just blurt it out the way he just did. 

"You never had problems sharing with me. You don't mind me biting into your food, drinking from your bottle, making me eat the ice cream when you only want the cone, yet you made me get a new straw. It's just new, I guess. That's why it's kind of weird."

He said calmly and I can tell that he's genuinely calm. Like he isn't trying to be calm or he's mad deep down. He's simply sharing his thoughts.

"So you did notice." I pouted. He looked at me and nodded for me to continue talking. "I was actually just doing this thing I saw on YouTube, telling your boyfriend you don't wanna share a straw."

"Oh" He nodded in understanding. "No wonder you're weird today. You'd never do that." He actually said in a very humorous tone, with a small smile on his face.

I beamed and sat closer to him, resting my head on his arm. "Sorry for that."

He shook his head and gave me head pats. "It's fine. And of course I'd notice, I prefer it when you share with me, it makes me feel closer to you. And you've always been sweet to me even though I can't do it well, so I instantly caught on to it."

"You're sweet in your own unique way, more than you realize, Ushi" I said, smiling at him. He returned the smile with an even bigger one. My heart is about to burst, it's not everyday I see this guy grin like this. This smile might be a small one to others but for me this is a whole ass beam!

"Can we share properly now?" He asked, very VERY cutely. It almost brought tears to my eyes. And when I say cutely I mean him just looking at me seriously. In conclusion whatever this giant does I find cute, okay? I'm whipped and I'll even write it on my forehead if I have to.

"By all means" 

[a-completely-normal-writer]

A Family of One

Note: I currently have a love/hate relationship with this story. I like what I wrote, but I hate that it took me so dang long to write it. I talked about this story on Monday and I just finished it today. I just could not figure out how to end it, which may be why the ending feels a bit rushed, but I refuse to wrestle with it any longer. Sorry for any typos and tense errors I only read through it once. It's also pretty long, so it'll be under the cut. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy it.

Tw. blood, monsters, smoking, death, just straight angst (I can't write fluff to save my life apparently)

“It should’ve been you.” 

Those were the last words he said to his little sister before taking off deeper into the forest, leaving her cries and pleadings behind. 

He takes a long drag from his cigarette. 

Even five years later, as he was leaving teenagedom and joining the ranks of adulthood --though in this world the line between child, teen and adult were noticeably blurred and at times nonexistent--that moment still haunts him.

 Almost everyday guilt and regret fills him, like the smoke filling his lungs, as he remembers the way she looked at him when those four words flooded from his lips. 

Tears and snot were streaming down her brown face, creating lines in the dirt that covered it. The front of the pink dress she’d been wearing was covered in the mess. Sweat had caused her baby hairs to stick to the front of her forehead, and she was making those stupid little hiccupping noises she always did when she knew she was in serious trouble . 

And why was she in trouble?  

For opening the front door. 

He had told her not to. That was the only rule he had set when he’d left her in that house. 

Papa was sicker than ever, it had been over a week since mama had left to find a doctor, Crystal was...Crystal  and baby Jade was a toddler who could barely fight off a cold, let alone one of those monsters.

So it was up to him to go on the weekly supply run. 

In moments like these it felt as though the weight of the world rested on his too skinny, thirteen year old shoulders, but that’s what being the oldest got you.

At times he wished he was the youngest or even the middle child for a day, to escape  the responsibilities that seemed to be consistently shoved onto him. 

But he wasn’t and he just had to live with it. He found had to live with a lot of things these days

“Don’t open that door for anyone,” there was no reply from his younger sister, just the sound of the wheels of a toy car rolling on the hardwood  floor, “ You hear me Crystal?”

“Yeah. I won’t J.”

Except she did

And now they were the only ones left. 

He turned away from her, disgusted by the way she was blubbering and crying, like she was the victim here. 

Like she hadn’t been the one to let those things in. 

“Jasper, I did- I’m sor-” She interrupted herself with sobs every time she tried to speak, building the anger inside of his guts. He aims it at one of the trees in front of him, landing punch after punch onto the thick bark. The sting it bought felt good, and it stopped him from turning and hitting who he really wanted to. 

“Jasper, please!” 

He wheeled around to face her and she took a step back, nearly tripping over an exposed root. Her sobs had lessened a bit, but when he had turned to glare at her they came back full force.

“Why don’t you ever listen?” 

“I- I thought-”

“I don’t care what you thought ! Why did you open the fucking door?”

“I thought it was you!” Crystal exploded with tears when she said this, “there was a shadow at the door and I was scared and all alone and I thought it was you!” 

“But you weren’t alone! Papa and Jade were there and now they’re-” he gets choked up at the last bit, unable to finish the sentence. Tears filled his eyes, and no matter how much he tried to blink them away they just kept coming.  

“I’m sorry!” 

Jasper used the fists he had balled up against his side to wipe the tears away--On the nights when Jasper couldn’t sleep, which was most nights, he wished he hadn’t. That he had left them to blur his vision, so that the face she’d made wasn’t the one ingrained into his memory whenever he inevitably thought about her-- then he said it. 

The hiccupping stopped and her eyes grew wide, tears still falling from them. 

 There were so many emotions that passed through those brown orbs as she processed the words that'd left his lips. 

Disbelief, confusion, anger, grief, and hurt. 

But it was the last emotion that stuck with him the most, understanding. 

In those last moments Jasper could see that his sister truly believed that it should've been her instead. That she was the one that should've been torn apart and left to stain the walls and floors of their home, while Papa and baby Jade stood here mourning and grieving her. 

After he said it he turned and ran like a coward, not listening as she called out to him. 

He just kept running.

Jasper ran until he could run no longer. Ran until his legs collapsed underneath him and his lungs burned with a breathlessness he had never felt before. He pressed his hot sweaty face into the cool dirt below him and just let go.

Released the screams and sobs welling up inside him. The tears forced themselves out of the boy as though a dam had broken inside him. He knew these tears weren’t just for what happened today, but for everything that had happened to him. 

Jasper wept for his family, now reduced to only two.

He wept for the life before this time, a life he could now only remember bits and pieces of. 

He wept for humanity, who in the face of monsters failed to come together, and instead bred bigger monsters who came in the shape of men. 

He wept until the tears no longer flowed and instead he was just shaking on the cold hard dirt. 

Jasper wished he could say that the crying had made him feel better, but it didn’t. The only thing he felt now was small, pathetic, worn, and more than a little guilty.

It wasn’t until the light filtering through the trees turned a golden yellow that he found it within himself to stand. He sniffled and wiped his face with the bottom of his shirt, making it dirtier than it already was. He began to walk back to where he had left his sister, surprised how far he had actually run. Jasper passed through the brush he had run through to get there, but-

She wasn’t there 

“Crystal?”

He looked around thinking that maybe he’d taken a wrong turn somewhere, but no there was the path that led to the house. 

Then where was his sister?

“Crystal!” 

He searched the whole area twice before heading down the path toward the house, and used the fence gate to get into the backyard,  Jasper then looked through the entirety of it, only stopping to scratch his legs as he stepped through the overgrown grass. He even looked in the hole of the porch that Crystal used to hide in before everything. She was nowhere to be found. 

Maybe she went inside? 

Jasper peeked up at the backdoor. 

 It would only be a quick look inside. 

He inhaled deeply before making his way up the steps, wincing as the third step creaked under his weight. He glanced around, before continuing up the steps.  Then he reached door

It seemed to loom over him, dark and evil, despite the white peeling paint covering it. 

Jasper took another deep breath before reaching for the rusted handle. It was only when his hand made contact with the knob that he realized how bad he was shaking, as it caused the door knob to rattle and shake right along with him. 

He had to do this, it was his fault Crystal ran away and he needed to find her. He needed to. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to open the door. He didn’t want to see the horror inside waiting for him. Not again. So Jasper stood there, hand on the door knob. 

The sky ever slowly darkening is what pushed him into action. If either of them were still outside when nightfall hit…

Jasper twisted the door knob.

 The door swung open slowly, creaking as it made its way toward the wall behind it, revealing a messy kitchen. Plates and utensils stacked in the sink waiting to be washed. Bowls left on the table. Cabinets and drawers left slightly ajar. Relatively normal. It was what waited for him in the room next to this one that had him shaking in his boots once more. 

He willed himself to move and to his surprise he did, one foot in front of the other. He was halfway across the kitchen when he could smell it. 

The metallic scent of blood. 

God, he couldn’t do this.

He called her name from the kitchen hoping that if she were here, she’d hear him and come to him.

There was only silence that followed his calls. 

“Crystal, please!”

There was an answer to his calls this time, but not one he wanted to hear. From the window he could see it was completely dark outside--how long had he stood here?-- and one of those monsters was roaming nearby. 

Jasper could hear the sound of its feet tromping along the grass outside, could hear it growling as it searched for him. 

Quickly, Jasper ducked into one of the bottom cabinets, drawing his legs up to his chest so he could fit inside of it. He shut the door just as the kitchen door burst open, and he could hear the wretched thing sniffing, growling, and slobbering, like an overgrown killer dog. He buried his face into his knees just waiting for the thing to go away, so he could keep looking for his sister. 

Jaspers froze as a thought crossed his mind.

What if they already got her? 

What if he’s too late.

No, she was fine.

But what if she wasn’t?

Those thoughts flooded his mind the entire time he hid. He’d doze off into a restless sleep, before waking up once more to those thoughts flooding him again. Not even the feeling of hunger could drive the thoughts from his mind. 

It was only when he could hear birds singing that he took a peek outside the cabinet door. 

He couldn’t see anything. 

Jasper opened it further and stuck his head out. 

It was gone. 

He stepped out and grabbed some food from one of the cabinets, before heading out to continue searching for his sister. 

For the next two weeks that was how he worked. Waking up at the crack of dawn, and  spending the whole day searching, only coming back to eat and sleep in the cabinet, while trying his best to ignore the stench of death that was quickly overpowering the house.

He searched the entire neighborhood and the woods adjacent to it. He found nothing from his sister. No clothing, no hair, no body. 

She was just gone.

And now he was a family of one.

Jasper snuffs out his cigarette. 

[46inpm]

MLQC Housemates with MC Having Toxic!Father

AU: MC's Dad from the game is her stepfather who later became her adoptive dad so toxic!father is her birth father (I won't disrespect game PaPa) Game Dad is PaPa and Toxic!Father is Dad

TW: Angst, Toxicity, Blood, Asshole Parent

Victor - Red, Lucien - Purple, Gavin - Blue, Kiro - Orange, Shaw - Green, MC (You) - Pink

They were under the impression that your birth dad was the one you took over the company for

They were surprised to find out he was your stepfather that became your adoptive father after your mom passed away but they could tell you saw him as your true father

The few things you mentioned about your birth dad was he's alive, present in your life, and you send him money

"I wonder why Miss Chips doesn't say much about him."

"Probably just aren't as close."

When you told them your dad was coming to visit for a few days and probably staying over the boys were happy to show their hospitality considering this was your dad

They wanted to impress the love of their lives' father

Victor was pissed when he found out the guess room was being used as storage

Mainly Kiro, Shaw, and you had to clean and donate stuff under Victor's supervision since it was mainly your stuff you guys lost your dessert privileges for awhile

Everyone was so busy cleaning the house that they realized later that throughout the process you never spoke highly of your dad and seemed nervous

"I just been busy that's all. I'm totally fine!"

When they first met the guy he seemed to be an okay man, Kiro and you gave him a tour of the house, that's when Kiro realized such awkward tension you kept giving out as you and your dad talked but don't worry Kiro's an amazing talker!

All the boys came home and met your dad they chatted in the living room with a movie playing as the dinner feast was being prepared

You told Victor you would finish the rest of the meal preparation by yourself, he denied but gave in when you smiled at him that you wanted some alone time

The dad seemed to be okay who was tough man inside and out that had a lot of stories to tell and seemed to care about his daughter

Things began going downhill from there

You called everyone to eat and they sat down to enjoy the food as they talked about their day and get to know your dad

They would talk and that's when your dad's behavior became noticeable

He seemed to be "Mr. Know It All" when tried to tell Victor and Gavin on HOW TO DO THEIR OWN JOBS but also passive aggressive comments of him looking down on Kiro's idol profession

Victor made this guy freakin steak and this is how he is repaid by being told how to do his job from a guy who just watches videos on financial

Kiro and you are trying your best to shift the topic and keep the peace

Deeper into dinner your dad begins making jokes throughout about you being about your weight, the way you dress, how you use people

He antagonizes you and your parents a lot

"Hope this one has been growing vertically not horizontally."

"Getting another bite already. What's up, fatty?"

"My daughter doesn't care about me. She just uses me."

That was only a few out of the jokes he told and don't forget the inappropriate ones

Who cares if their jokes if they're antagonizing to someone and just plain mean and also your dad is the biggest one here who's eating the most

Trust me no one is laughing at them and you're trying to play it off but they can tell how hurt you are (can't take a hint that no one likes the "jokes")

"The puddings ready. You can have some right now."

"It's okay. I'm not hungry anymore. I'm going to bed now."

You are really hurting inside as you try walking away fast enough not be seen crying and not even hungry to eat pudding

Everyone is left there eating with this asshole, they just want to get this dinner over with

Gavin hates him more than anybody as not only the way he talks to you but how he's reminded of his own dad

When Shaw makes the same body "joke" to your dad, they have never seen a man get so aggressive so fast before

Once your dad is fed up with Shaw and goes storms off to the guest room is when they clean up fast to go check up on you

"Thanks for ending that dinner, Shaw. If you didn't get him mad, I would have."

"I don't care who he is. Glad that the asshole is gone."

"I can see why Miss Chips doesn't really interact with him much. Why doesn't she say something about it to him?"

"Many children with parents like that feel trapped due to feeling of being indebted to them. She could be acting that way in order to not escalate the situation."

"As much as we don't like the man, we have to be polite for the few days he will be here."

They all go to your room to see you laying down as you blow your runny nose in the dark

Kiro immediately jumps in bed to give you the biggest hug while the others soothe you until you're ready to talk

You mention how he's like this with the antagonizing, rude jokes, and his temper and it being the reason your mom divorced him

Everyones face scrunched with anger as you weren't looking at the thought that this was going on this entire time

For the next few days luckily you've been busy with work to be around him, he was also busy with seeing friends but it still didn't stop his behavior and jokes when no one was around

As much as you wanted to run away from the conversations you couldn't because you were scared of what would happen

It was until one day when Shaw came home before anyone else to hear really loud screaming from a man, he was about to rush to see what was happening until you walked past him

"Welcome home. I'm a-almost done... finishing lunch. Do you want to help out?"

He's never seen you like this with deep red eyes, cheeks tear stained, legs heavily shaking, and snot dripping down

You walked to the kitchen with Shaw trying to convince you to slow down as you weren't in the right state to be cooking

Shaw has never been in a situation like this before so he didn't know what exactly to do, he made the mistake to take his eyes off you to try and call one of the guys

The moment you yelped in pain he immediately dropped the phone, you had tried to cut something but your hands were shaking so much and eyes blurring with tears that you cut your hand pretty badly

Shaw hugged your shaking body tightly as you covered your mouth from sobbing, outside began to pour with rain with heavy thunder

"P-please don't tell my-my dad. Please don't tell him!"

You were carried to the closest bedroom and the farthest from the guest room (Gavin's), Shaw made sure to lock the door

Kiro then Gavin then Lucien came home one by one and immediately panic as they saw a cutting board along with a knife stained with a lot of blood

Shaw ushered everyone into the bedroom and have Lucien properly put what little gauze they had over your deep wound already cleaned with alcohol

Lucien: Please, buy more gauze when you get home. We need it immediately. We're all in Gavin's room.🦋

Victor: What happened? Hardly ever text each other. Almost home, I'll make a quick stop.🕰

When Victor immediately enter Gavin's room, Lucien practically yanked the gauze from his hands to wrap around your hand, it dripping with blood, Gavin wiping away your tears, and Kiro staring at his IPad screen with AirPods in

"What happened?"

"My-My dad got really mad when I-I told him I really didn't like his remarks. That I felt I w-was stepping on eggshells with him-him. He got really mad that I was being se-sensitive and ungrateful, I wasn't try-ing to."

The way you chocked out an explanation as tears poured from your eyes as your hands shook in fear and pain

Victor asked Shaw and Kiro to step outside the door for a moment, he wanted a better explanation

"I came home and heard full on screaming from her dad that I wasn't even close to where they were. That was only the end of the screaming I came home to. MC tried acting as if she was okay and went to continue making lunch. I took my eyes off her for a moment that she cut herself when her hands were shaking. She begged me not to tell that asshole."

"I have security camera footage of the screaming. It's...It's really bad. Miss Chips said that she really didn't want him in her life but was scared this would happen. She said this is common with him."

Kiro's IPad showed the whole incident how you expressing your hurt and discomfort caused your dad to go screaming at you at the top of his lungs as you stood there apologizing and shaking in fear

"FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!!!"

"I'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT!!"

The three's blood ran cold at listening to him screaming with you crying in the background

Everyone laid in bed with you as you rant your feelings, past traumas and they're shocked at the things they're hearing

"He once banged on my d-door with all his strength because...because he-he didn't like that I would close the door."

After you confirmed you no longer want your birth dad in your life and fell asleep, the five men stormed over to the guest room where your dad was

Gavin cop knocked banged on the door and believe me how furious they were to see your dad

Victor gave the most intimidating voice he's ever given full of assertion and anger when telling birth dad he needs to pack up because he is no longer welcome in this house or near you

They couldn't believe this man when he threw a tantrum saying it was just an argument...excuse me argument

"Arguments are a disagreement between two individuals. Not one screaming at the other as the individual stands there in fear."

This guy was really not leaving and even trying to get pass them to get to you

Before Gavin or anyone were on the brink of committing assault charge, Kiro used his evol which shocked them as Kiro hardly ever uses his

"I command you. All within my range of control belongs to me. You will now leave this house and never return. Do not contact any of us. You will also cut off all ties with your daughter, forget her contact info and address."

The man immediately packed up all his things in a hurry as he was under Kiro's evol, they could see in his eyes of him forgetting your info and the location of the house

Victor called an Uber to drive the man to be dropped off in the city, as the car drove away they knew you were finally free from the man

During the rain this man should be careful with lightning strikes as it doesn't choose it's victim...or does it?

You could finally feel at peace when deleting his info from your phone and you no longer sent him money

[britishassistant]

The Villainous Paranoiac Has Visitors

You’re a fool.

A blind, tunnel-visioned, desperate fool.

There’s no one you can blame for this mess but yourself.

You were moronic enough to think that a promise would’ve been enough to stop Grim from going after more overblot stones.

And now where are you?

Lying in a bed in the infirmary, bandages and gauze wrapped around you from your collarbone to your chin, because the one creature in this fucked up magic world that you were stupid enough to trust unconditionally tried to rip out your throat over a rock.

Your neck aches. You’re so tired it feels like you can barely even move. Your head is a weird weight of white noise, making it hard to think about anything other than your current predicament and how you should’ve seen it coming a mile away. How you should’ve stopped it.

Maybe—maybe it was because you’d made him hold out too long. Maybe that’s it. Maybe you were wrong to make him swear not to eat any more, and him lashing out at you over Vil-senpai’s stone was just-just temptation that had been pushed too far. Why weren’t you looking after him more closely anyway? You’re his supervisor, you’re supposed to make sure Grim doesn’t get into trouble, you should’ve noticed he was gone sooner. Then maybe this whole mess wouldn’t have happened. And it’s not like Grim wasn’t working hard to uphold your deal, you were the one who wasn’t meeting his efforts halfway. After all, he hadn’t eaten anything after Jamil-senpai’s overblot, had he?

...

Had he?

No stone ever turned up after Jamil-senpai’s overblot.

And you were so out of it that night, riding out the aftereffects of the overblot’s venom and the anti-venom warring in your system.

Grim could’ve easily left during the night and eaten it, and so long as you never asked, never pressed him about it, you’d have been none the wiser.

And you didn’t ask. You just trusted him.

You’re a fool. A pathetic, misguided, twisted, worthless fool.

Your family was right about you.

You would grind the heels of your hands into your eyes, but even lifting your arms towards your face feels like more effort than you can spare right now. Luckily it takes no effort to stare up at the ceiling and just hate yourself for your stupidity.

You’d have thought you would have learned that trusting people is an awful idea already. Hopefully this will finally get the message through your thick skull—

“Yuu?”

You tilt your head and blink up at Deuce. He grins, blindingly bright. “Guys, he’s awake!”

You weakly smile back, ruthlessly squashing the urge to correct him.

Epel pushes the divider back as he rounds it, pretty face worried. “Prefect, how are you feeling? Nurse Kamac said you lost a lot of blood.”

“M okay.” You mumble back, your tongue feeling thick and sluggish in your mouth.

“What the hell happened to you, Prefect?” Deuce moves to pull up a chair and sit down next to you, shooting you doubtful looks. “Was it an attack by another overblot or something? Some kind of monster? Did you get jumped by some punks from RSA?”

You wonder what you should tell them. You know that all you have to do is tell him the truth, say the word, and they’ll all be off after Grim like a group of hunting dogs, just like when you used to ask Ace and Deuce to help you catch him back at the start of the school year.

But Grim might get hurt. Or he might hurt them.

Can you put them through that?

Ace collides with the foot of the bed, interrupting your internal debate, eyes wide and panting. “Guys, bad news. Crewel’s outside asking for us, he looks pissed.”

Deuce and Epel stiffen in tandem, darting nervous glances towards the door like the potions and alchemy teacher will burst in at any moment. “What’d you do?!” Deuce hisses.

“How’d you know it wasn’t you, ass?!” Ace protests. “Seriously, we can’t keep him waiting! I think he’s even madder than the time Grim turned his coat pink and green.”

All four of you shudder collectively.

Epel grabs Deuce’s arm, squaring his shoulders. “We just gotta—need to see what Professor Crewel wants right? It may not even be us he’s piss—irritated at. Just gotta man up and face him.”

Deuce nods, even though he looks like he really, really doesn’t want to. He and Ace follow Epel away from your bed and towards the infirmary exit. You loll your head back onto your pillows and resume your staring at the ceiling.

“But Ace, no one’s...?”

“What the—?!”

There’s a bang as the infirmary doors slam shut.

You look over in time to see Ace slide a mop through the door handles, and drag a chair over to prop under them. He then points his magic pen at it all and a padlocked chain loops itself around the whole affair and clicks shut. You can hear Deuce and Epel hammering on the other side, demanding he open up.

“Ace?” You struggle to sit up, your throat aching. “What—”

“Shh, sh, easy, we gotta be quick.” He darts over you, helping you to sit up and pulling up the pillows behind you to lean back against. “Do you need me to get your shirt for you?”

“W-what?” Your brain is still struggling to catch up.

Ace gestures impatiently to your chest.

You look down.

Oh.

Oh.

You look back up at Ace, cold sweat drenching you.

Please no. Not him too.

Ace reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls something out—!

He holds up your binder. “Figured Kamac might not have let you keep it. It hurts your ribs, right?”

Wait. What?

“H-how...?” You stutter, fumbling with the buttons at your collar.

He shoots you a look. “I basically carried you back here from Dwarf Mines. It was easy to tell something was up when Kamac wouldn’t let me or Deuce stay in the room while you were getting patched up. Plus this was kinda dangling out your back pocket when you came out”

Well. That’s. That’s...

“Look are we doing this or not?!” Ace hisses, shooting a nervous glance back at the door where Deuce and Epel’s voices are being joined by others and growing louder. You think you hear Kalim-senpai’s twittering, Vil-senpai barking orders, and Jamil-senpai’s drawl.

You begin working on your buttons with newfound determination.

Ace helps you get your head through the top hole of the binder without pulling on the bandages around your neck too much.

You struggle your arms through the arm holes, and then shrug the hospital pajama shirt back on. He’s already done over half the buttons by the time you’ve recovered from your discombobulation.

“Feel okay? Not hurting your breathing or anything?” You nod, still disoriented. “Okay, let’s just get you back under the covers, and then I’ll let in the circus.”

There’s another metallic clang from the door and a cry of pain that sounds worryingly like Ashengrotto-senpai.

“W-why?” You rasp, an odd swooping feeling catapulting in your stomach, like you’ve just jumped off the bleachers again. “Why would you...?”

Ace heaves a sigh and gives you a look normally reserved for Deuce and Grim. “Because you’re my friend, you little dumbass. Getting something like this for you isn’t a big deal or anything.”

You gape at him so hard it feels like your eyes are burning.

Something inside you feels impossibly, uncontrollably warm.

Turns out getting a lump in your throat really hurts when you’re recovering from having it slashed open.

“Aw, jeez, what’s with the waterworks?!” Ace leans over you, ungloved hand swiping at the tears on your cheeks. “C’mon Yuu, if they get back in here and see you crying, you know Deuce’ll kill me.”

“Good. ‘S a-all your fault. I won’t f-forgive you until you give me a hug, you big jerk.” You sniffle, opening your arms and holding them out.

He huffs a laugh, before following your orders. “You’re a tyrant, ya know that? You’re as bad as Vil-senpai and Dorm Head Riddle.”

“I’m worse than they could ever be.” You mumble, hiding your burning eyes in his shoulder. “Don’t you forget it.”

“Oi, you better not be wiping your nose on my jacket!” He tries to shrug you off gently. He still hasn’t stopped hugging you though. “Get your snot and tears offa me!”

You cling onto him tighter, unable to stop giggling even as a few hysterical tears slip down your cheeks. “Suffer.”

“Tyrant.” He fakes an exasperated groan, but you can feel him chuckling along with you.

There’s not many things you can think of that would ruin this moment.

“King’s Roar.”

...Being bathed in sand as the doors to the infirmary disintegrate certainly wasn’t one you had in mind, though it does the trick well enough.

Lucky you had Ace hugging you to act as a human shield for the worst of it.

He sputters once the deluge has subsided, shaking his head and rudely dumping the excess sand into your lap. “Ugh, senpai, what the hell?! Would it have killed you to wait one minute?!”

“You take too long.” Leona-senpai shrugs, pocketing his magic pen again and sauntering in to stretch out on the empty bunk next to you. “These guys wouldn’t stop whining until I did something.”

Deuce rushes over to your bedside with Epel and Kalim close behind him, kneeling down next to you. “Prefect, are you okay?! What’d he do to you?!”

“His eyes are all red an’ swollen!” Epel points out before you can say anything. “Ace, you bas—”

“Epel.” Vil-senpai stalks in, looking much better since you last saw him at VDC. Healthier, somehow. “But yes, Potato #1, what exactly were you playing at, locking everyone out like that?”

Ace stammers under Vil-senpai’s cold glare, so you take pity on him, clearing your throat weakly. “Ace just didn’t want any witnesses to him fussing over me. He’s allergic to showing kindness, after all.”

For some reason, being able to say that and have Ace elbow you playfully makes you feel...buoyant, somehow.

Everyone stares at you. The weight of their disbelief is heavy.

Kalim places his hands over yours. “Yuu, you don’t have to be afraid to tell us the truth! You’re among friends here!”

“Oi!” Ace protests.

“Who’re you calling ‘friend’?” Leona-senpai interjects, because he’s still a huge bag of dicks.

Ashengrotto-senpai has his magic pen in its cane form and is leaning on it heavily, limping. “I wouldn’t worry Kalim-san. I’m sure whatever the Prefect experienced can’t be worse than having a cauldron drop on you.”

Deuce inches closer to hide behind you and Epel sheepishly.

“Technically Azul, it was rebounded onto you off the doors of the infirmary.” Jade-senpai interjects cheerfully, switching a bouquet from one hand to the other. “Though I’m sure Spade-san would be glad to reimburse us for damages through labor if necessary~”

Deuce lets out a squeak.

“Eeeeh~~ Crab-chan, were you doing something naaauughty with Shrimy all alone in here~?” Floyd-senpai drapes himself over Ace’s shoulders, arms looping around him. “No faaaaaiiir, I wanna play too~~”

Ace stiffens, face growing to match his hair as Floyd-senpai’s arms begin to tighten. “J-Jamil-senpai—!”

Jamil-senpai cruelly ignores him. “Kalim, make sure you’ve still got your magic pen when we leave. The Prefect might try to add to his collection.”

You shoot him a look. “When are you going to let that go?”

He sits on the end of your bed and smiles sweetly at you. “When you stop making a nuisance of yourself by sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Prefect.”

You try to dissect that statement, then give up and settle for attempting to kick him off the bed. You only end up depositing more sand into your lap under the covers.

He laughs at you, because for all his talk about reputation, Jamil-senpai is also a huge bag of dicks.

The dust and sand irritates your nose and throat, making you cough hard. It’s not as bad as it was after Vil-senpai’s overblot, but you feel the warning tugs on your weakened lungs and torn throat. You gratefully accept the glass of water Epel hands you, gulping it down.

The sand around you gently shifts and seeps out from under and on top of your covers as you swallow, pooling into a large pile at your bedside.

Leona-senpai’s tail flickers as he tucks his magic pen back away and pretends to be sleeping again.

Deuce begins to fret over you, taking the empty cup from your hands and ineffectually trying to fluff your pillows. You let him hover as Ace rolls his eyes and playfully ribs at him for his mother-henning.

Jade-senpai places the bouquet in a small vase on the table next to you with Vil-senpai and Epel fussing over the arrangement every time Floyd-senpai delights in deliberately poking the flowers out of alignment.

Kalim-senpai promises to bring you a carpet next time, maybe even an elephant if you want, much to Jamil-senpai’s dismay. Ashengrotto-senpai begins trying to negotiate for even more presents.

Leona-senpai half-heartedly growls at everyone to shut up and let him sleep.

You’re a fool if you think trusting these people will turn out any better than trusting Grim did.

But somehow, you feel like you’d rather be a fool and enjoy the warmth blooming in your chest right now rather than anything else.

[thewistlingbadger]

It's Over.

Summary: Spencer is approached by a handsome stranger while crying at Morgan's wedding. Inspired by the song it's over, isn't it?

CW: emotionally Hurt Spencer Reid, ralvez with post Moreid, angst, betrayal, Spencer has a panic attack, Luke is a good guy, they're both nuerodivergent, hurt/comfort, curse words.

To be honest, he never thought he'd be in this situation. He's at Derek Morgan's wedding, currently pushing his way through the crowd. Derek Morgan: The player of all players, getting married to some random girl. At least it felt random to Spencer. They don't even know each other, He thought. She doesn't love him. She can't love him like I do. The way I have been doing for the past 11 years.

The whole night he'd been trying to hold it all in. This whole entire time he's been trying to hold it all in, to not react. But how do you not react to the love of your life throwing everything you two had away? As though it were nothing? Was it nothing to him? Tears pushed out his eyes, He walked even faster. I gotta get out of here.

Yeah, it's safe to say that this is not at all how he expected the night would go.

He quickly scanned the venue for an area that wasn't heavily populated. After a few minutes, he found a quiet, secluded spot.

He descended to the ground. His fingers fumbled when trying to take off his tie. He threw it away from himself in fury, letting every pent up emotion out.

For once in his life he let the sobs rack through his body. For once he let out every fucking tear imaginable and he did not wipe them away. He let the snot drip down to his chin and his lungs feel like there was no air left on earth.

Spencer Reid was full on ugly crying. It would be a first for everyone, including Luke Alvez.

Luke didn't really know what he was doing there. I guess he was just stunned when Peneople Garcia, the person who hates him the most, asked him to be her plus one to this wedding. He couldn't even remember if he's ever actually been to a wedding before. But he was trying to get on her good side so he had said yes.

The whole night was weird for him. The venue was packed with faces he didn't recognize; And at first chance, Penelope ditched him to go talk to the groom.

At least the food was free and the champagne was expensive right? He started to wander when his ears picked up the sound of sobs. He cautiously followed the sound and and a person with shaggy light brown hair with a long torso was revealed to him.

"Are you okay?" The voice of a man breaking Spencer out of thought. God give me a break. How the fuck was he supposed to lie his way out of this? There's no way in hell he can explain why he's having a meltdown at a wedding.

Luke sat next to the crying person, now getting a better look at them. They were wearing a tuxedo, had white skin, and a sharp jawline. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to...interrupt what you were doing? I was just looking for a way out of the commotion. I don't really know anyone here." Luke stumbled through his sentences awkwardly.

How do you get invited to a wedding of a person you don't know? This encounter increasing in its weirdness, Spencer asked who the man was. "I'm Luke Alvez, Penelope's plus one. I work at the bureau like her."

"Oh of course you are." Spencer murmured without thinking. "What's that supposed to mean?" Great. Now Spencer's got this stranger on defense mode. "Nothing. She always knows how to pick the strong, attractive guys that work at the bureau." Luke thought about the compliment. "Like the groom?" He asked.

This made Spencer think too. How well did he actually know Derek? Did he even know Derek at all? "As of my knowledge, they never dated. But nothing would surprise me when it comes to that man." The bitter tone of the person brought Luke back to the problem at hand and away from his questions about the groom.

Luke desperately tried to ease his way out of the awkwardness. But he was Luke Alvez, so he failed miserably. "It's a nice spot you picked. Outside but not near the valet. It's nice to get the breeze through your hair. It's also not super-" A laugh interrupted his description of the site.

Luke joined in with the soft chuckles. "This has been a strange night to say the least." "Yeah no kidding." Luke said with a smile. "I never thought it would be like this." Spencer admitted, looking up to the night sky. "... what'd ya mean by that?" Luke was looking at the other person.

"I was fine, with the women. Who'd just stroll into his life now and again. I was fine, because I knew, that was just a silly game to him. It was just someone to grind with at the club. Someone to go home with, who he had no intention of seeing again. A 'How many women could I take home in one night?' kinda thing."

The person let out a sigh. "I was even fine with her! Because I knew, she'd be like all the others. Either he'd get bored of her in 3 weeks tops or she would be disappointed that he always had to go and then she'd leave. And after, being with him for over a decade, I just." Spencer hugged his knees. "I just never thought I would loose." Spencer brushed the tears out of eyes. The fuck was he doing? Crying in front of a stranger?

"I'm sorry." Spencer laughed. "I'm not one that tends to loose... I'm not accustomed to it." The man gave a look to Spencer that just made him melt. His composure was gone for the second time that night. Spencer started sobbing and this stranger, this person that wasn't even supposed to be at the wedding, was holding him. He was comforting him.

"I'm so sorry." Luke said softly. "Did....did anyone else know?" "No." Spencer barley managed to croak out. "We were on and off the whole time, off when he was seeing someone else. Most of the time a random girl from the club or some ditzy girl he bumped into on the street. Gay marriage wasn't legal yet we didn't want to be terminated. We didn't want our friends to see us differently." Spencer sobbed. "And now they won't see us at all."

Luke rubbed small circles slowly into their back. "I think the worst part is is that I didn't see it coming. The whole time I thought he was genuine. Then one day he walked into the office with a ring on his finger. That's when I knew it was over." The Luke leaned against him, resting his head against Spencer's and holding him close.

"He didn't even tell me! He didn't even address it. He just asked me if I would be a groomsmen as if we never even happened." His mind was telling him to shut the fuck up. You can't admit that you're gay to a stranger! But his heart was utterly smashed. He needed to vent, even if it was just for this one night.

Eventually, Spencer stopped hyperventilating and all he was left with was puffy red eyes.

"Well," Luke started, "From what you just told me, it sounds like this night has been horrible for you." Spencer gave a pathetic nod. Luke smiled at him in return, telling him it was ok. "No one should feel bad at a wedding, even if it's not there's. It's supposed to a celebration right? Or at least fun. Free food, free booze, cake even! Surrounded by people you love and- and music!"

"I don't drink." Spencer said. "Respectable. Tell you what- how about you and me, we get up and we go back ok? At least to get you a water you must be really dehydrated from all the tears. Did you get to try the cake?" Spencer shook his head.

"Oh man it was really something else. Do you like cake? If you like cake you'll think that the cake they got is fantastic. Let's go grab a slice and if you wanna go home then I can drive you home. You've had quite the eventful night you deserve to go home, only if you want to though I won't force you to obviously. I mean, it would be weird if I forced you to do anything I'm a stranger after all. How's that sound?"

Spencer smiled at the man. He's clearly nuerodivergent, Spencer thought. ADHD, was Spencer's guess. This night was already one he never wanted to remember, so it can't get any worse. So he took the hand of the stranger, introduced himself, and they went back to the wedding, arms linked together. Spencer grabbed a water bottle, Luke grabbed them a slice of cake and without saying goodbye, they went home.

By: Mic

[dancingazaleas]

𖨆. 03 / all for us

summary: you’ve been gone for a while and haven’t been replying to any of your texts messages. you’re friends suspect something might be up.

note: the reader has been left alone continuously ever since she has been kidnapped. erwin and levi are the only ones who see her, and it’s usually only for an hour or two. this is because of her reluctance to be around them.

taglist: @voltairelesecond @the-sun-baby @uniquepickle @baelo80

word count: +3.0k

warnings/notes: cursing, vomiting, your friends are looking for you

PIECK knew something was up whenever bertholdt said you weren't answering his texts and hadn't been showing up to work before you even went on vacation. she knew you were on vacation and that you were pissed with her, but even so you never ignored texts from bertholdt.

her suspicions only rose whenever porco and reiner told her the same thing, that you'd suddenly gone awol on the two of them out of nowhere.

they were confirmed when zeke came back into town and said the same thing.

she sits on her couch, shoulders shaking as she cries with porco's arms wrapped around her. reiner, bert, zeke, and annie, who reiner and bert brought for some reason, stare at her in complete worry.

you went awol just this sunday, telling each and everyone of them that you were going on vacation and wouldn't be in town for a little while. bertholdt hadn't seen you at work for almost three weeks now, two and a half of them after your sudden vacation.

"she can't be on vacation," pieck sobs, "she always answers your guys' texts. no matter what!"

"maybe she's just in a different country? she might just not be able to get reception," porco seems unsure as he says this.

"she can't be. she would've told me, pieck, or even bertholdt. god, she would've told all of us," zeke's head is in his hands while his teeth grind together.

"okay, so where would she be if she were still in paradis," annie speaks up while gesturing her arm in a circle.

"who fucking knows," reiner sighs, "when'd you last see her, babe?"

"at work before she stopped showing up. she said she was gonna get coffee at that one café she loves going to. other than that, she didn't say anything about plans or going out with anybody," bertholdt is laced with confusion and his arms are crossed.

"we got into a bad fight that night," pieck sniffles, "she left the house a few hours later, i just thought she was going to stay with one of you guys or yelena."

"what'd you even argue about?"

she grips at her hair with tears rushing down her face, "i can't even remember. it was probably so petty and stupid. the only thing i remember is her telling me that she hated me and me telling her that she was a fuck up."

"i'm so sorry, pieck," porco squeezes her shaky form tight to his chest.

"wait," zeke's standing up abruptly and pointing at bertholdt, "she went where?!"

"oh my god, she went to café scout!!! maybe the workers heard something," reiner perks up along with everyone else.

"holy shit, maybe that one girl is there!! she probably saw something," porco smiles.

"louise! she definitely knows (name)! she probably saw something! let's go," pieck jumps off of the couch and stumbles towards the front door of her house.

the rest of them follow after, all deciding that bertholdt's van, he's usually the designated driver, is the car they'll get into. they all yell at a fumbling bertholdt to hurry up and unlock the car as they stand at the car. he does so while screaming, jumping into the driver's seat and starting the ignition. reiner's jumping in the passenger seat and annie's in the first row of seats behind bert.

before porco can even close the door behind him, bertholdt is driving off towards the café. porco is screaming along with pieck as they're thrown around the van due to their lack of seatbelts and the both of them standing to sit in their seat. their screaming has everyone else screaming as bert speeds up the car despite the oncoming speed bump. bertholdt and reiner hit their heads against the roof of the car, a loud bang resonating throughout the vehicle. pieck and porco's back hit the roof as well, but luckily for pieck she lands on the first row of seats next to annie.

porco, unfortunately, lands on the floor. zeke would've laughed if it wasn't for his own head slamming against the carpeted roof of the van. annie holds onto pieck's arm whenever she's in a sitting position, screaming along with reiner for bertholdt to slow the car down as they see another speed bump.

he doesn't.

porco is once again thrown against the roof.

bertholdt is speeding, even as he gets onto the freeway with other cars. he's stressed out.

when they get there, they all wonder how the fuck bertholdt didn't even get pulled over and how the hell they even managed to survive. bertholdt cries out apologies as reiner and porco puke their guts out in the huge parking lot while annie gags and tries not to vomit at watching reiner and porco do it themselves. pieck is holding her hand and trying to cover her eyes while zeke manages to cover her ears and cringes at porco and reiner.

bertholdt's now sobbing at annie, profusely apologizing, even getting on all fours and begging for her forgiveness.

"how are you gonna get on your hands and knees for annie but not for your boyfriend," porco coughs before he spits out saliva to get rid of the taste in his mouth.

reiner follows behind him in a grimace, hand grabbing at his now emptied stomach and the other going to wipe at his mouth.

"dude, gross!! don't wipe it off with your hands!! pieck and bertholdt usually have tissues on hand," porco shouts to reiner, who drops his hand halfway.

pieck and zeke comfort the emetophobe annie all while bertholdt gives reiner and porco tissues and a breath mint. he gives them hand sanitizer as well, and throws a pack of peppermint frost gum at the two of them, clogging his nose up.

they scoff but oblige, both now looking somehow decent and also smelling it. pieck's calming down a shaking annie, who's buried herself in pieck's warm arms, and zeke stands to the side awkwardly.

porco and reiner rush to the order counter when they all step inside, ordering instead of asking the cashier for the employee they were looking for. annie, who's now calm, pushes them aside harshly.

"ignore them, is that girl louise working today? we need to talk to her," she asks and the poor cashier is terrified at annie's deadpan face.

"n-no!! sh-she should be at home!!"

"give me her address," annie starts to lean her front over the counter, almost pushing the poor girl into a heart attack.

she grabs a napkin and a pen, hurriedly scribbling down louise's address and running off into the back.

"we can get food on the way there," annie shrugs nonchalantly, "preferably wendy's or something."

————

bertholdt and pieck almost feel bad for the poor girl whenever she answers the door.

with annie's glare piercing into her and zeke's towering over her, they were sure she'd pissed herself.

"y-yes... what do you need," she digs her nails into the door.

pieck shoves them both aside and steps forward, louise lights up with recognition.

"don't worry, they aren't gonna hurt you," she waves her hand, completely ignoring how they both still glare at louise even over pieck's shoulder, "i just need to ask you something."

"what is it?"

"have you seen (name) lately? the girl who usually come in with me."

"last time i saw her was around a few weeks ago," louise shrugs, "wait, did she go missing?!"

"yea, we're trying to figure out where she was last on the night of her disappearance. did she say anything to you...? anything at all," pieck steps forward with a desperate hand on her heart.

"she said something about going drinking with two friends... something about them being blonde and short," she scratches at her temple, slight pout on her face, "that's all i can remember."

"did she say what bar," pieck steps closer again, putting her hand on the door frame.

louise shakes her head sadly, eyes dropping down to their feet.

with that, pieck broke into tears again and was led away by porco and annie. the rest of them followed behind, leaving louise inside her home.

"she has to be somewhere," pieck cries into her hands, "she has to be!!"

zeke's got a hand on his forehead while he loosely holds onto his glasses with his other hand. he lets out a choked out sob, and everyone turns to him.

"zeke... are you... crying?" reiner turns to look at zeke over his shoulder.

"fuck.. yea. it just doesn't make sense. she's gotta be somewhere," he rubs the bridge of his nose.

"maybe the guys louise mentioned know something...," bertholdt inserts as he looks in the rear view mirror.

the statement has pieck shouting at the meek boy, "we don't know what they look like!!! all we know is that one is blonde and one is short! we're at a dead end! we're fucking stuck!!!"

bertholdt visibly flinches in his seat while his throat clogs up, hands gripping at the steering wheel. his eyes are welling up with tears that he doesn't let out. reiner's hand is on his arm in comfort, eyebrows bunched up in concern.

pieck wails once more, "god, i'm so sorry bertl. this isn't your fault. you were trying to help."

he sniffles, "it's fine. i understand. we're all just upset and desperate to find (name)."

"we'll find her soon enough."

————

the loneliness is getting to your head.

you're in the secluded dark even during the day.

you just crave to be with someone, so much that you're getting desperate.

a tug at erwin's sleeve has him stopping and turning back to face you. you've got tears spilling over your cheeks and snot running into your mouth while you lean on an elbow to hold onto his sleeve for dear life.

it's not even nighttime, it's early afternoon. erwin had just come into the room to feed you lunch and to just leave after that. but you couldn't handle it anymore. being alone made everything dark and silent.

even if the lights and televisions were turned on.

"please," you beg and rest your forehead against his arm, "please don't leave me alone."

erwin's cheeks are lighting up while his eyes widen. his hand comes up to stroke the back of your head as it now rests on his hip. he doesn't mind the wet spot forming on his pants, this was the first time you ever initiated anything.

"i won't, darling. i need to go put the tray in the sink and let levi know i will be in here," he's taking a step away from you, jumping at your sudden loud sobs and tugging.

"no! no! please, i don't want to be alone," your eyes are squeezed shut while you grip onto his pants for dear life.

"but i need to go put these dishes away. after that, i can—"

"no!" you scream and push your head harder against his leg, "no! please don't leave! i don't want you to leave."

he sighs, putting the tray of empty dish onto your bedside table. he grabs the room key out of back pocket before he picks you up bridal style.

"you run, levi'll break your legs," his fingers dig into your skin, but loosen at the frantic nod you give.

he manages to unlock your bedroom door in a complicated way, which you don't feel like questioning, and strolls outside of the room.

he goes out of your quarters, it's the furthest you've ever been. you're in a large room that connects into other rooms, the amount of doors is slightly overwhelming to you even as you look at them.

to your shock, you pass by people. living people.

they all seem to be staff, and the only sort of acknowledgement you get from them is a wide eyed stare with a dropped jaw.

"levi is still in his study, correct," he asks while shifting his hold on you.

a girl with ginger hair and auburn eyes speaks up, "yes sir! he requested no one to enter."

erwin nods and walks past the girl, who gives you a small friendly wave whenever you look out from erwin's arm.

you turn your attention back to erwin whenever you hear the sound of a door opening and closing.

you're in a new room, which is assumed to be levi's study, that's lighted up by the cloudy and grey natural light that shines through the blinds and windows. there are bookshelves on both sides of the room and you notice that on both bookshelves the order of the books goes from largest to smallest. levi sits at a desk in the middle of the room, facing the door, as his hand holding a pen runs across the paper.

"what do you need," levi looks up for a brief moment, but snaps his head up once more.

"what's the brat doing here," he motions to you in erwin's arms.

erwin's sitting you on a leather couch in the office, wiping away some tears with his thumbs. he steps away from you and takes ahold of levi by the arm, essentially dragging him to the door of the study.

the dawning realization that they're going to leave you alone has you tripping over your feet as you run to the door. your hand grips onto levi's shirt and you tug him towards you, pulling him away from the door.

"i don't want to be alone," you cry while shoving your face into levi's chest, he cringes at your snot and tears soaking through his shirt.

"oh," he blinks, awkwardly rubbing your back with his hand, "why'd you bring her here?"

"because she wouldn't let me leave to put her tray away, which i now need you to do. i'm going to get in the bath with her, which you are welcome to join if you'd like."

"i don't like baths, sitting in your own filth," he scrunches his nose up.

"to each their own," erwin shrugs, giving levi a kiss on his temple and grabbing ahold of your hand.

"come along, darling," he smiles at how quickly you intertwine fingers with him and join his side.

he leads you into a different bathroom than the one that you use. there's not much of a difference besides it size, the tub's size, and the long counter built for two.

"undress for me, love," his giant hands are massaging your shoulders before he pulls away and walks over to the tub.

you look to the bathroom door, only to find a doorknob with a keypad, something you didn't notice when you walked in, and frown. you just sigh and slip off the the pastel pink nightgown you were wearing, the fabric pooling around your feet as it drops to the floor.

you look up into the mirror, and you almost want to cry. you look nothing like yourself. you barely had any life behind those (eye color) eyes and your eyebrows were now naturally furrowed in sadness. you've got fading bruises on one side of your body, trailing downwards all the way to your calf.

you decide to take off your panties before you let your thoughts roam, stepping out of them after they've dropped to the floor.

you hear the door open, to which you and erwin look to. only it's not levi.

it's a young boy with ebony black hair and emerald green eyes that stands at 5'10.

you instinctively cover yourself up and turn your back towards him, embarrassing washing over you in waves.

erwin scrambles to block the boys view, who is seemingly enjoying it, and furrows his bushy brows.

"who are you and what are you doing here? where is levi?!"

"levi sent me sir. he gave me clothing for the girl and then said you would be in here," his eyes try to take a peek over erwin's shoulder.

erwin snatches the clothing out of his hand and slams the door shut in the boy's face. he scoffs in annoyance while he puts the clothes onto the counter, now focusing his attention onto you.

"i'm sorry about that, dear. are you alright," he puts a hand on your back and guides you to his chest.

"i'm okay," you sniff, "just wanna get in the bath now."

he smiles a bit, leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead before he steps away. you watch him rid himself of his white button up and try not to let your eyes bulge out at his body. however, you can't exactly resist the urge whenever erwin is finally naked.

erwin's stomach has abs carved into it, a well groomed happy trail leading to his cock. the thighs in his muscles and back are almost screaming out at you whenever he turns and lifts his hand to ruffle his hair.

you look down to his feet, feeling ashamed for even staring for so long.

he gets into the bath after a moment, knees spread wide for you to sit between. his arms are resting on the rim of the tub while he sighs at the hot temperature. you get in, goosebumps running up and down your body as the heat invades your colder body. you settle in between his legs and lean back against his chest, closing your eyes.

his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him than you were before. you put a hand over his arm, silently giving him a message to keep his arms where they were.

his lips kiss at the crown of your head, and it seems sweet enough to where you think you might be able to smile. but you don't.

watching your eyes flutter, he mumbles into your hair, "the hot water make you tired?"

"yeah," you hum, "don't really like the hot outside of this. i prefer the cold."

"so does levi," erwin chuckles as he draws circles into your skin.

"does that mean you like summer?"

"no, i prefer fall or spring. both usually have the adequate temperature," he sighs.

"erwin," you ask after a few seconds, "why is levi so cold?"

"why are you only now asking?"

"i meant to ask sooner but i was never really... given the chance," you say bitterly.

"well, levi has been through a tough life. he almost went to jail before i met him. but it isn't my story to tell," he smiles at the memory.

you nod and finally let out a yawn, "i'm going to fall asleep soon."

from then, erwin washes the two of you so you both can get out of the bath. during this, you find out he's actually quite playful. he gathers up bubbly soap in his hands and blows them into your face, hearty laughs following immediately after.

he stands before you once you're out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his waist and one around your shoulders. you look up at him while he brushes your hair and puts on a few drops of lotion on your face.

you're trying to ignore the voice in the back of your head that maybe he really does care. because at the end of the day,

you still have a collar and chain on.

[peculiarpatches]

𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 - 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐱 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

this is part 1 of 4 or 5 (??) parts. if you like this, please give it a like and or reblog (or both). feedback is appreciated, always!! this first chapter contains smut. so if that makes you uncomfortable, this isn’t for you. and again, this is part one of others so there will be more :) 

WARNING: public sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, angst slightly??? but not really??? it’s going to get angsty more later down the road, lmao. so, buckle up. it’s one hell of a ride. enjoy :)

*~*

A flush of regret wipes over my body. The moment our lips touch,  it washes over me like a waterfall. One drop then thousands of drops came pouring down, soaking me until I was drowning in it. Regret & anxiety; Both washes over me and yet,  I  know  what I am doing is wrong but I can't bring myself to stop. A tiny part of me didn't want it to stop, either.  He knew that, I knew that.  Yet, nobody said anything. We didn't have to. We were too busy, too caught up, in each other that we didn't need to talk. No words needed to be spoken, to be said. We knew it was wrong but... if it was so wrong, why did it feel  so right?  A moan escapes past my lips and drips onto his tongue. His hands found their way to my hips, fingers sneakily trailing up my shirt and he curls his fingernails deep into my skin, making another whimper slip out from me;  no matter how hard I tried not to speak or let any noise out, he got me to do the complete opposite.  "Now, now, remember what I said... We've got to keep quiet, okay, baby girl?" He had said this earlier  and yet, it seemed as if he wanted nothing more than to get me to scream and shake.  To be putty in his hands, to melt under his touch..  The little shit was trying anything - everything - to get me to make noise.  And unfortunately, it was working.   I  shouldn't love him and he  shouldn't love me. Yet, here we were; Tangled together  with our lips locked and our hands caressing every body piece we could manage to find.    We were in the most uncomfortable place to do this at, though. We were in one of the closets  of Hawkin's community pool. It was after hours now,  the pool had been closed for some time, they always closed when the sun went down and when the children's fathers got off of work and the mothers had to be quick on their feet and head home to cook them a meal.  A few people were still in the parking lot, a few life guards were also gathering their supplies and getting ready to set, sail, and go home. Yet, Billy told me he had a surprise for me if I stayed past my curfew and past my work schedule.  Of course, I knew what he wanted. I knew what he had up his sleeve.  (The so called surprise, as you may have guess is... *drum roll*  his cock!! What an amazing present to gift someone, right?)   I, being the dumbass that I am, agreed, though.   It wasn't bad, per say. It never was bad. Hell, it only got better within each sacred and secret moment we shared together.  That's where the problem was at; I was tired of being a secret. Tired of hiding from everyone. Tired of feeling used. I wasn't Billy's rag doll he could use and carry with him wherever. I also wasn't his personal sex toy that he could slip his dick into whenever, wherever.  I was tired. So, fucking, tired. I was  exhausted, mentally and physically. Having to keep the secrets buried away, hiding them in a place they can't be broken or seen, it was truly going to be the death of me.  Especially from Steve. I was tired of lying to him.  Steve Harrington was my best friend. Best friends since kindergarten, he and I. I hated that I was hiding my relationship - was it even that? - with Billy to him.  Steve and I went to each other for everything.  Always have, always will. When he and Nancy broke up, he came to me, crying his heart out and drowning my shirts (and pillows and blankets) with tears and snot.  (Thankfully, he cleaned them up so I didn't have to. I would've done it in a heartbeat, though. I loved Steve. Steve is my best friend, I'd do anything for him, as I know he'd do anything for me.   So, lying to him made me feel like the shittiest person alive.)   That night, along with many other restless ones, we  talked  and talked until the sun came up.  I did everything I could to make him happy, to cheer him up. I baked him his favorite cookies and favorite meal once as well to try and make him feel better. Almost burnt the kitchen down while doing so, too. And, okay, maybe, the meal and the cookies didn't work out and I failed. In the end, it put a smile on Steve's face which is all I had been dying to see.  Soda dripped from Steve's nose and burnt his nostrils, he was laughing so hard when the fire alarm went off, letting us know the cookies in the oven were bursting in flames. Luckily, we saved the kitchen from exploding with fire and clouding with smoke. Can't say the same for the cookies, sadly.  From that day and onward, he and I still made jokes about burnt crisp cookies and nearly dying because of trying to bake them together.  It was one of our favorite inside jokes, actually.  ("I went to the store yesterday and I walked up and down the aisles and guess what? Not a single one had burnt crisp cookie dough.")  ("You see this bullshit, Harrington? All the cookies in the world are at this fundraiser expect for burnt crisp cookie dough!"  "Oh, man, I'm going to have to talk to the principal about that one... I cannot believe they'd do something like this.") When I got dumped by  one of the basketball players on the Hawkin's high school team, Steve was the first (and only) one who reached out to me and cheered me up. He rented out a few of our favorite movies together and before they could close, Steve and I were quick to rush to the grocery store and we picked up as much junk food as our arms could carry.   That night - along with others - was full of nothing but contagious laughter, sweet and salty foods, and horrible but too good to put down and look away movies.   All the thoughts of Steve wash away once I  feel Billy's hand dip  into the opening of my underwear, his calloused fingers pushing the thin layer of fabric aside  as his index finger slips between my folds, a gasp leaving me as I feel his touch.  His touch felt like fire among my skin, and I was an ice cube, melting in the palm of his hands.  I could feel myself sinking and sinking, slipping away into the pleasure he was about to bring onto me.  "I love when you make that face," He whispers against my neck, lips drifting across my skin, not quite in contact but not so far away either where I couldn't feel him. His breath was hot and I could smell the peppermint gum as he talked.  "Love hearing those pretty but pornographic moans of yours.... gets my cock so hard, you get me so worked up, baby girl...." Billy's scent was intoxicating. Even right now with the  left over smell of coconut lotion smeared across his skin from lathering himself up early in the morning, he smelled perfect. As perfect as can get. He smelled of coconut  mixed with peppermint and a cologne I couldn't pinpoint on exactly what  or which brand. All the scents together may sound odd and unsatisfying but I was nearly drooling as the different fragrances overwhelmed my senses. That and the fact he pushes his index and middle finger inside me, so easily, without any trouble whatsoever. Him, doing that earned another  gasp to fall off  of my lips as it was so sudden, so unexpected.  I knew I was wet, could feel the puddle of wetness coating the bottom half of my underwear but I hadn't known I was so hot and bothered he could easily slip two fingers into me. I shouldn't act so surprised, this was Billy Hargrove, after all. Billy was one, if not, the most attractive guy in Hawkin's, Indiana. Well...in our age group, anyways. A lot of other students and fellow classmates were far from attractive. (Minus Steve, but of course, he doesn't count. He knows he's attractive, just as much as Billy does. Me, telling him he's cute and everything wouldn't change the fact. He already knows it.) Moments like this, I wish I had a jar I could bottle these memories up and store them away, have a look back upon them some day with a smile on my face. I've never felt so alive, so wanted, needed and loved... not until I met Billy.  He made me feel as if I was on cloud nine and he made me feel as if  I could do anything - everything -  and I wasn't just some girl, some hookup, to him. I was special. Sure, hiding and keeping secrets wasn't the greatest feeling in the world, I'll have to have a talk with him about it, about the way I felt, but as of right now, I wanted to touch him the way he was touching me. I wanted to make him feel the butterflies in the pit of his stomach, the ones I was feeling right now. The ones I always feel when he presses his lips against mine or when he just touches me, in general. Hell, even when he smiles in my direction, holds my hand with his much larger one and or laughs at a not so funny joke I tell. I wanted to make his heart skip a beat, as he did with me. I wanted to make him feel as special as he makes me. Before I could register what I am about to say, those three little words leave my lips before I could put a stop to them.  "I love you."  I couldn't stop the sentence, even if I tried.  Billy said nothing. He hums in reply, but no words leave his mouth. He continues to move his fingers back and forth, curling and scissoring his digits deep inside me. I groan quietly, leaning my head back against the shower tile wall, holding myself up the best I could from the position I was in. "There's a good girl," is all he says. He either doesn't acknowledge what I said or he chose to ignore it. My heart aches at the second option but the feeling goes away rather fast as he's sinking to his knees and spreading my legs far apart, his head guiding up to face my cunt and before I know it, his tongue - his mouth - everything is inside and I feel as if I'm on fire.   "Oh... Oh, Billy..." I mewl,  slowly my eyelids drift close on their own as I press my lower half into his  welcoming mouth, my breathing began to grow heavy as his tongue swirls against my cunt which hardens underneath him.  He grips his fingers into my thighs, more  than likely putting imprints of his nails into my skin by  how hard he pressed them down. I didn't mind a few bruises. The bruises were  a reminder this was all happening and not some form of my imagination.    Even from the position he was in, I could feel the outline of his lips curving upward and I didn't need to look down to see the famous Hargrove smirk sitting there across his face; I could feel him smiling in between my thighs.    He, to my disappointment, pulls away, but he doesn't stay far back for too long. The cheeky little shit only wanted to lock eyes with me, shoot me a wink before diving back down in between my legs, eating me out as if he was starving. Saliva dripped down his chin and I could feel it sliding off of my thighs, too.  His tongue was everywhere, going from my pussy to the inside of my thighs to my clit back and all over again. He was devouring me, eating me out as if we were running out of time which was far from the truth.   I didn't mind it one bit. Wasn't complaining in the slightest.  My only  issue was how close I was getting to an orgasm. The signs were all there, slowly building up. My heart was pounding faster than before, my legs were shaking and my knees began to buckle. It was getting harder to keep upward.  My eyelids  could barely keep open, the familiar fluttery feeling grew bigger and stronger in my stomach. Billy, probably knowing I was close to my peak, pulled away and before he stands up, he pushes his shorts down, letting them hang by his feet. "Next time, princess, I want to see that mouth of yours stuffed with my cock; see you gagging for it, all around me. As of right now, I just want to fuck you and leave you  breathless, now bend over and let me see that pretty pussy of yours, baby. 'm gonna wreck it, have you feeling me for days, have you feeling this cock in your stomach. That's what you want, isn't it? To be fucked like I hate you?"    Before I could reply, he's taking me by the wrist and bending me forward, laying my body against one of the shelves in the closet as he rubs my opening with the head of his cock, sending a shiver to run through my body, goosebumps prickling my skin as I breathe through my nose, closing my eyes. I wait for him, wait for the stretch and the opening of his cock but it doesn't come as quickly as I would have liked.  "I don't, by the way. Hate you." He said, leaning forward whereas his back touches my own, "I'll fuck you like I do but I don't. The feeling is mutual." He said and before I could reply - before I could ask what he meant - he's pushing forward, pressing his cock deep inside me, sinking into me with a growl.   "You're so fucking tight, always so fucking tight." He grunts, hissing through his teeth as he rocks his hips back and forth, his cock going deeper inside me, inch by inch, I feel him. He's all I could feel.  He's all I want to feel.  "Please..... please, Billy." My words are crumbling together, my body was breaking apart.  "Tell me," He purred,  his breath lightly  fanning against my ear as he spoke,  his voice was low and irresistible, it made every part of me shake as he spoke. "Tell me what you want. You have to speak up in order to get what you want, love.... So, tell me." "Just you, you, you, you." I'm begging now. I can feel myself getting closer and closer. I'm holding onto the shelf so tightly because I'm afraid I'm going to fall over.   The feeling is growing, the bubbling sensation is getting larger and I can feel myself getting ready to burst.  "Please, Billy, fuck me like you hate me. Fuck me like I'm some whore on the street. Fuck me-" My words are cut off by the way he pulls out only to slam back into me. Him, doing this  - the sudden force and movement - is what makes me come undone. I knew I wasn't going to last long.  Luckily, neither does he. "Oh, fuck. Already came, did you? Such a good girl. Fuck~ you're such a good girl for me. 'm gonna cum too, fuck, I'm so close, (Y/N)." His words, much like mine were, slur together, his thrusts become sloppy and messy. And before I know it, he's cumming with a cry of my name, filling me up as he does so.  "Shit...." He groans, pulling back slowly as he then pulls me up with him, pulling me around to face him as he kisses me suddenly,  the taste of myself still strong on his tongue. It shouldn't be a turn on but it was. However, I was too exhausted for a round two any time soon.  I kiss him back, smiling against his lips.  We stay in this position for a few seconds, saying nothing because the kiss says what all that I needed to hear. He loved me too.  Pulling back, Billy smiles and moves a few pieces of hair out from my face, leaning forward, he captures my forehead with his lips, kissing it with so much softness and affection, I feel all warm and tingly on the inside.  This is the Billy nobody but me got to see. This is the Billy I was in love with.  Not the one he portrayed for everyone in town to see. He didn't have to play pretend, to put on a show, I loved him for who he was. Even the fake persona he wore. I knew it wasn't him, not at all.  "I love you."  Something flashes across his face the moment I say those three words, there's a certain  look in his eyes I can't make out but he grins nonetheless and pulls me closer to him, hand finding their way to my cheeks as he  moves to kiss me the way he had done before. "And I love you."  Of course, I should have known he was lying.  It was Billy Hargrove, after all.  He didn't date.  Didn't fall in love.  All he cared about was the person that looked back at him in the reflection of his mirror and getting into girl's pants, no matter who it was.  More importantly, he didn't fall in love with me.  It was all a lie, all a trick, and I was nothing more than a puppet on strings for him to toy around with.  I didn't know this until the next day. If I had known, I wouldn't have given myself up to him so easily. 

I was -  I still am - a fool for falling for his little white lies.  I should have known.  All the red flags were there but..... I guess I was just color blind.  I just wanted to be loved. And I thought he loved me..... I really did. I guess I was just another girl to put on the top of his list. 

[kyotarou]

practicality

Inspired by @iwaixiumi-main on Tumblr! (using your quirk for the first time headcanons)

characters: katsuki bakugou

plot: you’ve only used your quirk in front of your friends for fun little tricks, but never at its full potential. your classmates witness this for the first time when katuski bakugou hits a nerve.

warnings: swearing, angst, dedgration (not sexual), kind of a fluffy ending

word count: 1.5k+

a/n: i apologize for making kirishima the secondary love interest that gets thrown away at the end for the second time 💀💀 i promise i’ll write smt just for him 😩

Your Quirk: You have the ability to control any water around you. When under your control, the water can become as strong as iron (you determine the strength). The downside: the more you use, the heavier it feels—use too much and you could injure yourself from the weight (possibly even crushing yourself).

   Your classmates had seen your Quirk in action many times before, mainly for fun, but never during combat. You knew water wasn’t accessible in every situation, so you stuck with fist to fist action. After exam season, it surprised you to find your name on the list of students with top scores, especially on the combat portion since you barely used your Quirk. Nevertheless, a large weight was lifted from your shoulders.

     Denki and Kirishima invited all of Class 1-A to the beach to celebrate. You brought your bag inside one of the stalls, taking your sweet time to change. It was the weekend, after all, no need to rush. Worn out from exams, you planned on using the day to relax, unlike your classmates who buzzed with energy. Your plan was foiled when Kirishima caught you tiptoeing out the changing stall, hoping no one would spot you.

     “Hey hey hey, (Y/N)!” Kirishima slung his arm around your shoulders. “You ready to hit the waves with us? Maybe you can finally show us your Quirk!”

     You shook your head with a small laugh. “Come on, Kiri, you’ve seen it before.”

     Kirishima led you towards the shore. “Yeah, yeah, but I wanna see how manly it can be!”

     You pushed him off with another laugh which turned into a scream when he shoved you into the water. “Oh, you are not getting away with that!” 

     As Kirishima tried to run, tendrils of water wrapped around his ankles, keeping him grounded. He tried using his Quirk to escape, but you were stronger. You and Kiri spent the next few minutes stuck in a splash battle, which gained the attention of the others. Though you wanted good old-fashioned fun without your Quirk, the rest of the class encouraged you to show your best tricks, and their jubilant faces made it hard to refuse. You sent waves crashing at their feet to see who could run away the fastest, played volleyball with a bubble of water with Uraraka, and even swam out to the deeper parts of the beach with Kiri who was starstruck when you created air bubbles around your heads, letting you safely view the fish that swam by. 

     On the shore, Bakugou watched with steam coming out his ears. He gritted his teeth as you and Kirishima sat beside him at the picnic table, Kiri’s arm wrapped around your shivering body as the sun began to set. Jealousy nipped at his skin like harsh bug bites.

   Why should I give a fuck? Not like I’m into them or anything.

   But he knew damn well he wanted it to be his arms around you and the one to brush the wet hair out of your face instead of stupid Kiri. He glared at you and the red-haired boy, him feeding you a piece of sushi like a baby.

     “Brrr, the airplane’s coming, open wide!”

     “Dammit, Kiri! Just give it to me already.”

     You twirled your finger and a stream of water flew into Kiri’s nose. Bakugou rolled his eyes as you doubled over in laughter, chin resting in his palm.

     “Tch, couldn’t use your Quirk for something useful?”

     You shrugged. “I’d say this is pretty useful.” You stuffed a piece of sushi from Kiri’s plate into your mouth as he wiped the snot from his face.

     “You’re an idiot. Just cause you can do cool shit with it doesn’t make you the shit.”

     You gave Bakugou an awkward smile, who kept his eyes glued to the table. The rest of the class went quiet. His taunts were usually followed by a scoff or chuckle, but his voice was sharp and cold.

     “Never said I was. Not my fault everyone thinks it’s cool, right guys?” Your classmates chimed in agreement. 

     Bakugou snorted. “So why didn’t you use it during exams? Why don’t you use it for something better than shitty party tricks? Don’t you want to be a hero? How can you do that when you’re too afraid to use it against a real opponent?”

     “I-I’m not afraid!” Your cheeks burned with the anger bubbling in your stomach. “It’s just not practical!”

     “Not practical, my ass. Admit it, dumbass, you bribed your way up the class rankings, didn’t you?” 

     Kiri looked between the two of you nervously. “H-Hey man, I think that’s enough. Let’s all calm down and have some fun, alright?”

     “Shut up, Kiri! This isn’t about you!” Bakugou snarled. What the hell was he saying? Even if he refused to acknowledge his feelings, you were his crush—he let his mouth talk without thinking and there was no going back. He was letting his explosive attitude get the best of him and part of him felt relieved to blow off some steam.

     The table shook as you shot out of your seat, your clenched fists shaking at your sides and furious tears streaming down your face. 

     “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

     The class murmured as ocean water climbed slowly up the sand, dangerously close to where they set up the barbecue. “You know I studied so hard for those exams. Don’t you remember all those nights I spent awake in the middle of the night? Shitty party tricks, is that all I am to you?”

     The water rose like a cape above your shoulders, casting a dark shadow over your wrathful face. Your arms trembled under the weight, but the adrenaline ignored the pain. Kiri scurried from the table, leaving Bakugou to stare at the ominous wave blocking the last of the sun’s golden rays from view. It truly did look like an iron wall, so close to crashing down and crushing him underneath. Bakugou set off an explosion as the wave stopped inches from his neck in the shape of a spear, the tip sharp enough to slice his skin.

     “Is this practical enough for you?” you sobbed. You sank to your knees and covered your tear stricken face. The water retreated to the ocean, leaving everyone untouched, except the poor table, now charred from Bakugou’s hand. Sniffling, you snatched your bag from the sand and excused yourself before slamming the door of the changing stall. After getting dressed, you declined Uraraka and Deku’s offer to accompany you to Heights Alliance. With the mood now sour, Class-1A packed and cleaned the area before heading home in tense silence. 

     Bakugou couldn’t sleep that night. He stared at the ceiling with a frown, hands clasped together on his stomach. He cared about you so much, but he let his stupid jealousy consume him. Now, you would probably be angry with him for the rest of your life, and Bakugou couldn’t live with that. Seeing you walk away with your head down and wiping your tears shattered his heart. You were the one for him and he fucked it up like he always did.

   He jumped from his bed with a pounding heart. He slipped on his shoes, which were on the wrong feet, and left his dorm.

     What the hell am I doing? 

     Bakugou pounded on your door. He couldn’t care less if the whole building woke up—he had to see you. He was never one to share his feelings, but with you in mind at that moment, there was nothing more he wanted to do. Bakugou pounded on your door again, tempted to blow it down if you didn’t wake up. To his surprise, you answered with a scowl and puffy eyes. 

   “What the fuck do you want?”

     You swore your ribs almost caved in when his strong, muscular arms wrapped around your body fervently. Bakugou kept his hand on your head as he nuzzled his nose into your hair, inhaling your sweet, comforting scent.

     “I’m sorry…” he murmured. His grip tightened when you tried to push him off.

     “Is that all you have to say?” you hissed. Your voice shook at the foreign feeling of his warmth, making you wonder if it was someone else disguised as him.

     “No, it’s not.” Bakugou cupped your face with both hands, heart beating a mile a minute as he stared into your eyes. “I like you id- (Y/N). I’ve always liked you, and I’m sorry.”

     You were paralyzed. Bakugou’s calloused thumb brushed a stray tear you didn’t even know had fallen from your face. Your mouth hung open in disbelief.

     He… likes me?

     His words from earlier rushed back into your head. You tried to shake off his grasp. “What a great fucking way to show that.”

     “I know, I know. I didn’t mean any of it, you have to believe me. I was just… I was jealous, okay? I was fucking jealous of you and Kiri getting all buddy-buddy, and I said shit I shouldn’t have said.” Your eyes widened as he placed a tentative kiss between your brows. “You’re more than a party trick; you’re everything to me. And I can’t live with the idea of you hating me, cause I like you too much to handle that. Hell, I might even love you.”

     Your lip quivered at the sudden rush of emotions. You clung to the front of his shirt and pressed his face against his shoulder. “Do you really mean that?”

     “Hell yeah, I do. I-”

     You cut him off with a gentle kiss to the lips. “I like you, too, Katsuki. But what you said…”

     “You don’t have to forgive me right now. But you’re my world, my little teddy bear, and I just want to hold you. Is that too much to ask?”

     You shook your head. “It’s never too much to ask.”

[hufflautia]

in the soft silence of her love

Warning: biphobia 

Summary: Slytherin supports Hufflepuff after a break-up. 

“And then,” Hufflepuff continues angrily, “he said I would probably cheat on him with a girl!” 

Slytherin’s forehead creases while Hufflepuff paces around the dormitory.  

“He sounds like the type of guy who would ask for a threesome after you tell him you’re bi,” she replies. 

“Right?!” Hufflepuff plops onto the bed, her arms splayed over the duvet as she stares at the ceiling with blazing eyes. “Honestly, fuck him.” 

“Fuck him,” Slytherin agrees, laying beside her. 

“I’m glad I told him I’m bisexual,” she huffs. “Otherwise, I’d still be in a disgusting relationship with that rat without knowing how much of a dick he is.” 

I always suspected he was an ass, Slytherin thinks. But how was I supposed to tell my best friend I hated her boyfriend? 

Hufflepuff’s demeanor shifts into something undeniably desolate, and she closes her eyes. Slytherin sees a stray tear slip from her eye and past her ear. 

“Hufflepuff?” 

She turns her head to see Slytherin staring with furrowed brows. She doesn’t respond, not even when her eyes become clouded with tears. 

Slytherin pushes herself upright and says her name again but in a more gentle tone. 

That’s when she wordlessly sits up and holds her arms out, to which Slytherin scoots forward to embrace her. 

Her face wrought with emotion, Hufflepuff sobs into the crook of her neck. Slytherin doesn’t ask what’s wrong. Hufflepuff will talk when she’s ready.  

After several minutes, her breathing gradually evens out, and all that can be heard is her occasional sniffles. She draws in a deep breath and exhales shakily.

“He said I should’ve told him in the beginning. He said I tricked him. And it, it hurt,” her voice cracks, “to hear that. To hear him say all those things to m—me.” 

Slytherin hugs her tighter. “I know,” she murmurs, rubbing her back in a methodical manner. “I know.” 

Hufflepuff feels herself shake and tremble from the effort of muffling her own cries. It doesn’t take long for her to let it all out. Snot begins to leak from her nose as tears streak down her face, but she doesn’t bother wiping them off. It hurts. Everything just hurts. 

But with Slytherin by her side, it hurts a little bit less. 

- 

It’s been two weeks since the breakup. They’re studying for their Potions exam in the Slytherin common room, where it's quiet and peaceful. Slytherin is too focused on her work to notice that Hufflepuff hasn’t written a single word down in the past ten minutes. 

“It was you, wasn’t it?” 

Slytherin regards Hufflepuff with a puzzled expression. 

“What?” 

“You were the one who jinxed you-know-who last week.” 

Slytherin snorts and says, “If you’re talking about Voldemort, then no, I did not jinx that no-nose egg. But I would if I could.” 

Hufflepuff shoots her a pointed look. 

“Okay, okay,” she relents. “Yes, I turned your ex into a rat. But only because he deserved it!”  

Hufflepuff wants to be mad, she really does. After all, Slytherin has gotten detention plenty of times because of her—well, for her, really. But she cracks a smile. It was pretty funny to see him walk through the corridors with the tail still intact; Madam Pomfrey can do many things, but even her healing magic has limits. 

“You didn’t have to do that for me,” Hufflepuff says.  

Slytherin arches an eyebrow. 

“Who said I did it for you,” she asks. “Maybe I wanted to see him scurry around for my own amusement.” 

A wide grin stretches across Hufflepuff’s face. She doesn’t bother pressing her best friend about it. She knows the truth. 

They go back to their work, and before Slytherin can truly return her focus to the assignment, Hufflepuff speaks. 

“Thank you.” 

[I normally don’t put songs in one-shots, but I’m watching sapphic tiktoks while revising this fic, and I came across this song and it’s so beautiful that I simply have to include it because the vibes are immaculate and it flows well with the story. The song is 25 seconds long, but it loops for 3 minutes. You’ll be able to finish the story before it loops. No need to rush. Here is the link.]  

Slytherin meets her eyes and grins.  

“Of course,” she says. “You deserve the world.” 

Hufflepuff offers a soft smile. 

“Hopefully we’ll see it together.” 

And then she goes back to her work, but Slytherin doesn’t look away. Not yet. Not when she’s gazing upon the girl whom she has silently loved for years.  

Yea, Slytherin thinks. Maybe we will. 

~

Inspired by this post I found on Instagram (originally from Tumblr, funnily enough):  

Unrelated, but that gif is of a character played Phoebe Tonkin, my mermaid QUEEN. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed. Check out my masterlist, and lemme know what you thought of this one-shot! I love reading your comments <3 Thanks for reading! 

Tags: @slytherpuff-shenanigans @axieleration @sunnniiee @just--another--bean @determinedpines @zenobiagrace @asterinflower @cinnamon-roll-unicorn @mossy-axolotl @dumbbitch11 @hitchhiker-of-the-galaxy @notsowiseravenclaw  @arianatorpotterhead @luciferswife16 @walkinganomaly @asunshinepuff @lewispoolerpayton @adreameratdawn @thewitcheswords @oncergleekpotterhead @princessstoopid @stardustzainy @flvrqnce @multi-fandom-nutjob @eunnieah @iamahufflepuff @1hufflepuff @introvertedrae @princessstoopid @jasminedayz @magnoliamermaid @HOPEFUL-HUFFLEPUFF-PEEVES @peanut-in-the-goal @pufflehuff929 @sophiexteresa @da-fox-rangerrr @dawinehouse @shipping-book-keeper @xxavaloraxx @silverhetdanes @im-a-solanum-lycopersicum @elegantcroissantplaidpony @theoriginaljohnwatsonsblog @theoriginalsherlockholmesblog @vickeyunicorn @arianatorpotterhead @hmilkwhoney @simpering-simpleton @grandcyclecreation @sweetinvisiblewriter @marvelenthusiast10 @mvlpksvthisht @qiaopa @beardedhumanoid @jadefox05 @justanotherperson @inkedintothepaper @minty-malfoy @trippy-morgan @fangirlgeekandfreak @boilyourteeth @absentmindeduniverse @colettedelaurel @halfelven1 @happy-puff @coloring-bud @in-love-with-remus-lupin @autumnpleaves @crakencc @flyme--tothemoon @hedgepuffgirl @littleemotionalpanda @pancakes-and-sugar @korra4321 @aquietkindofthunder @qixnsriess @porksoba @thatfann @hellounicorn @i-have-a-bad-feeling @aasa2102 @zuko-28 @annie-mcl @clementines-x @writtenfoxscreams @randomwriter23 @cryingabtwandavision @coolninjavoid @urfaveslytherin @malfoys-demigod @tumlbr-trasher @violayaxley @wolfpack-arts-industries99 @zainieees-stuff @milk-leaves @priii @capt-sparrow @blueberry-9-pancakes @stressy-depressy   

[preciouspeterbparker]

i wish i were, part 3

part one

part two

summary: it’s getting harder to pretend that everything is okay. 

word count: 4.2k

warnings: step- inc*st, smut, underage sex, suicidal ideation (oops), ANGST, depression, self-harm mention (doesn’t actually happen, just intrusive thoughts), it’s all mentioned very casually so if this is triggering for you please don’t read!! <3 , ambiguous ending 

this is the last part y’all! thanks for going on this ride with me. this was my first multi-chap fic and it kinda gave me the confidence to know that i’m capable of writing longer stuff without it being super shitty lol. sorry that it’s taken me so long!! 

love you all

- bloo 

It's getting harder to pretend that everything is okay.

Peter hates to say it, fuck, the thought physically pains him, but he’s glad the school year’s almost over. He’s glad that it’s almost time for graduation, time for Tony to leave for the special summer program MIT invited him to participate in. 

He just wants to stop feeling like this, never wants to feel like this ever again. He always feels heavy, weighed down, like his clothes are soaking wet. It’s a feeling that goes deep into his bones, leaving him cold, aching, and tired. 

It’s a good thing there’s not really any work left to do for school, other than exams; Peter spends most of his time in bed, headphones on and staring at the wall, the one that separates his room from Tony’s. 

He keeps hearing Pepper’s voice in his head. He thinks you hung the moon, babe. It’s so cute. The words make him burn inside, make him want to dig his fingers in and peel his skin back until the feeling spills out of him. Until his blood spill out, until he doesn’t have to deal with this anymore- Fuck-

That’s how his brain is working, now. The intrusive thoughts have reached new levels. Peter’s always had them, he’s been passively suicidal for most of his adolescence, but it seems that any minor inconvenience has him ready to end it all. But it makes sense, he supposes. He’s already hurting, already weary and withdrawn. It really wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge. 

Too bad he doesn’t really want to die. He just wants everything to...stop. So that he doesn’t have to feel like this.

And because the universe is obviously enjoying fucking with him, the first thing he sees walking out of first period is Pepper walking down the hallway, a faded black t-shirt hanging from her shoulders, exposing the bright red of her bra straps. 

Peter recognizes the garment immediately.

It’s the Black Sabbath shirt, the one he’d kept under his pillow for over a week. The one he’d spilled multiple loads of cum onto before finally putting it in his laundry and carefully slipping it back into Tony’s room once it had been washed. 

And now Pepper’s wearing it. Which means Tony gave it to her.

Peter stops, freezes right there in the doorway of Mrs. Flannigan’s classroom. He blinks, staring blankly in the direction the blonde had gone. His classmates protest behind him, pushing forward until he snaps out of it. Taking a few stumbling steps to the side, he leans back against the wall.

He feels like he can’t breathe. Some kid walking down the hall looks at him funny, and he realizes that there are tears rolling down his cheeks. Hastily wiping them away, he slowly pushes himself off the wall and starts making a hasty exit to the bathroom, head down and eyes trained on the linoleum. 

Then- 

“Hey, Peter- Wait, Pete what’s wrong, what happened?”

Shuddering, barely able to contain the sob that threatens to rip its way out, Peter ignores Tony, just pushes past him and doesn’t stop moving until he’s locked in the private restroom. 

With his back to the door, Peter slides down til his butt’s on the cold ground, arms wrapped around his knees as he tries to muffle his cries as he sits there, shaking.

He just wants it to stop.

***

Something’s up with Peter, and Tony has a sinking feeling that it’s got something to do with him. But he doesn’t know what he possibly could have done. 

They’d had such a nice time celebrating his birthday. He even had a new photo in his wallet, a polaroid of him and Peter cheesing goofily into the camera. Looking at it brings a smile to his face. 

He really does love his little brother. Though he was young, Tony can remember life before Richard and Peter came into their lives. He remembers being an only child as lonely hours spent trying to entertain himself while his mom was busy working, trying to support him as a single parent. He’d been ecstatic upon meeting Richard and finding out that he had a little boy, too, that he was going to get a brother. 

Tony knows that he and Peter haven’t been spending as much time together as they usually do, but he just chalked it up to it being his senior year. He wanted to spend the time with his friends, with his girlfriend, making the best of their last bit of time together before everything changes. 

Peter’s words from his birthday ring in his head. I don’t want you to...forget me. Maybe he’s feeling left behind? 

He’s only got a little over a week left until graduation, and then a week after that he leaves for MIT. That’s not much time at all.

The teen resolves to make some more time in his schedule to spend with his younger brother. Rhodey and the guys and Pep can deal for a couple days. 

***

Peter’s pulled out of the clusterfuck of ruminative thoughts that have kept him awake for the past week by the squeak of his bedroom door being opened. He blinks under the covers, instinctively curling in on himself. He’s been under here for hours, but he still feels so cold.

Tony’s voice comes through the small crack he’s created between the door and the jamb, one eye peeking inside. “Peter? Are you….” He pauses and clears his throat before continuing softly, “Are you okay?” 

The lump under the covers that is Peter shifts a little. His voice is dull and monotone when he replies, as apathetic as he can muster. “...Just leave me alone, Tony.” So much for that. Even saying his brother’s name hurts, a lot more than he thought it would, making his voice crack pathetically. Peter pulls his hands up to his chest and tries to quell the sudden surge of emotion that rushes through him, stifling a whimper. Please just go away. 

Of course, instead of listening for once in his fucking life, Tony opens the door further so that he can slip inside. It closes behind him with a soft click and he takes a tentative step towards the queen bed that’s pushed up against the walls in the corner of the dark bedroom. "Pete…" Peter can hear him softly pad over to the nightstand and flick on the small lamp sitting there. His breathing in the quiet room is near deafening to Peter. “I…” He hovers there for a minute before sighing and sitting at the foot of the bed. “I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong. So that I can… I just want to help, Pete.”

The silence stretches on uncomfortably between them and even under the covers, Peter can feel the worried gaze burning him alive. 

His skin is crawling with how badly he wants to crawl out of the covers and into Tony’s lap, the way he would when they were younger and he was upset. He needs to get Tony out of here. He can’t- 

Peter moves so that his head is exposed, but he looks down at the bed rather than the other teen. "No, it’s fine. I mean I-, I’m fine," Peter sniffles, blinking furiously in an attempt to will the tears away. Fuck. His- fuck, his throat is tight, he can't swallow. His mouth falls open, a shuddering breath escaping as the muscles in his throat spasm. "I get it, Tony. I promise I get it, I really do. I do. She's-" 

Fuck. He must really be exhausted, he wasn’t supposed to say that, wasn’t supposed to let on the truth of why he’s upset. Peter's eyes flit around like he's on speed, darting from one focal point to another without him truly seeing anything. His voice is hoarse, thin. It's as small as he feels. Miniscule. Insignificant. He’s gonna ruin everything but he can’t make himself stop. "I mean, I can’t- I can't compete with-" The words come to an abrupt halt, his mouth snapping shut. 

Tony nudges Peter’s foot with his knee. “What? Peter.” He bumps against Peter again until the younger boy looks up to make eye contact. 

That stupid fucking crease forms between his older brother's eyebrows. Peter wants to slap him. Or kiss him. Mostly he wants to scream. 

"Peter, what? Compete with who? Are you talking about Pepper? I know we haven’t been spending much time together, but I’m gonna fix that before I leave, I promise. I don’t want you to feel left behind, not at all but I still don’t get- What’s this got to do with -," Tony starts, placatingly. But there’s something in his eyes, in the barely there tremor in his voice- And Peter suddenly realizes that Tony knows, has to know at least a little bit. 

He swears his vision flashes red for a second. "It has everything to do with her," Peter all but shrieks, nails digging crescent-shaped welts into his palms. He feels overwhelmed, trapped. Like a hermit crab without its shell- vulnerable, horribly exposed. It comes out without his consent, and so does his fucking stutter. Fuck it all. "And I know- I know- I know I'm fucked up, Tony, I know it, but I love you, the way that you love h-huh-her.” 

He takes a shuddering breath, reeling from saying the words out loud for the first time. “I'm sss-suh-sick, and g-gross and you- I know I'm a fff-fuh-freak and nnn-now- now you’re gonna hate me!" Peter sobs, his entire body shaking as he works himself towards an anxiety attack, a panic attack, a heart attack, fucking something. “I can’t even fu-fu-fu-fucking talk-” There’s snot and tears running down his face, he’s upset himself so much he can’t get through a fucking sentence. He knows he’s making a fucking fool of himself. He’s so stupid, why did he ever think that anything could come from this. He just wants it all to stop, he wants Tony to leave so that he can figure out some way to fix this, to make it all go away-

Tony’s staring at him, mouth parted, dark eyes wide and concerned. "Baby, what- I could never hate you, babydoll." It’s like the nickname comes out instinctually, the sound of Peter’s stutter instantly taking him back to the way he would console Peter when they were much younger, pulling him into his arms and rocking him like his own little baby. 

He climbs on the bed and burrows into the nest of blankets and pillows that Peter has created, but he stays sitting up. His arms wrap around his baby brother and pull him up into his lap so that he’s close to his chest, in spite of the younger’s attempts to squirm away. “Calm down, Pete.” Tony presses his lips to Peter’s head when his cries only increase, frowning at how hot the skin of his forehead is. “You’ve gotta calm down,” he soothes. “C’mon, it’ll get better once you calm down, baby, you know that.” One of his hands glides up and down Peter’s heaving back. 

Gasping, Peter shakes his head. He buries his face in the space where Tony’s pec and arm meet, taking a shuddering breath through his mouth. He’s trying to calm down but it’s not working. “I’m so- I’m so ssss-sss-suh-sorry, Tuh-Tony!” He feels like he’s gonna pass out. Shifting a bit, he pulls his head back in an attempt to get some more air. They almost make eye contact but he hurriedly looks away. He’s ruined everything. Tony hasn’t reacted to his confession yet but Peter knows that it’s gonna be bad, it’s gonna be so bad when he does. 

What’s he got left to lose?

Peter can't help himself; he leans in. The tips of their noses brush, and he pauses there for a moment. He can hear Tony's sharp intake of breath through his own heaving as they finally lock eyes. The look in Tony's chocolate depths is- Peter doesn’t really know. Tony's never looked at him like this before, no one has.

“Tony,” he whispers shakily, breath catching in his throat before closing the distance between them. Time stands still for a moment before something breaks, the tension snapping like a rubberband pulled too tight. Their mouths meet and Peter immediately whines at the feeling of Tony’s lips on his, body instinctively arching up against his brother’s, too lost in it to feel embarrassed of how easy he is to get worked up. 

It’s...everything he ever dreamed of.

Tony’s hands move to cup his cheeks, and Peter’s own hands find their way into the other’s dark, wavy locks as their mouths move against each other. There’s a swipe of tongue across his bottom lip, timidly asking for entrance. The younger obliges immediately, letting the warm muscle slide into his mouth where it meets his own. It sends shivers down his spine and he keens when his tongue is sucked into the wet of Tony’s mouth. His dick begins to fill rapidly in his sweats, leaving him feeling lightheaded and a bit disoriented.

Peter’s never made out with anyone before, but this- 

He thinks he understands what all of the hype is about, now. 

They pull apart, both gasping for air. Tony moves his head slightly, taking heaving breaths that blow onto the exposed skin of Peter’s neck, and his entire body seizes. The elder brother pauses, eyes darkening, before he latches his mouth there and sucking, hard- Fuck, Peter swears he’s about to cum in his pants. 

“Tony.” The name is all but ripped from his throat, ragged and wanton and filthy sounding. He didn’t know he could feel this good. There’s precum steadily leaking from the slit at the tip of his cock, and though he can’t see it at the moment, he’s sure there’s a wet spot staining the crotch of his pants. 

More moist air on the sensitive skin of his neck, now slightly red from being rubbed by the stubble covering Tony’s chin. “Shit, Peter,” comes the eighteen year old’s wrecked gasp and his hips shift, nudging his own erection against Peter’s thigh. “Fuck, fuck.”

Peter feels like he’s losing his mind. “Tony, Tony lemme- Wanna touch you, please-,” he says, unable to put together a full sentence. The cock he’s been dreaming about for almost a year is within his reach and he doesn’t know how they got here, has no idea what’s going to happen after, but he’s so fucking close to getting what he’s wanted for so long but thought he could never have. His hands flutter restlessly near the front of his brother’s basketball shorts and the bulge that’s pressing insistently against the loose material. 

“Yeah,” Tony gasps, shifting Peter out of his lap so that he can lie down on the bed on his side and then he pulls Peter down with him, facing each other. “Me too, can I…,” he trails off, the fingers of his right hand running down Peter’s body from his shoulder down to the sharp point of his hip bone. 

All Peter can do is nod jerkily, already reaching to tug at the dark red fabric that’s wrapped around the older teen’s waist. He lets out a desperate, frustrated sound when they get caught, but Tony’s hands take over for him, so he pushes his own pants down to his knees instead. His dick hangs down heavily once it's free of its confines, and there’s a quiet thud as Tony’s slaps against the dark hairs smattered across his lower belly. 

Looking at his big brother’s cock for the first time in the dim lighting makes Peter’s mouth water. He can make out the slight shadow of a vein running the length of it, and his tip is big, a drop of precum sitting there just waiting for him to lick at it. He’s bigger than Peter, in both length and girth. It’s perfect, something right out of his fantasies. 

Tony rocks his hips forward and their erections rub against each other, prompting them to let out synchronous groans. “Holy shit,” Peter whines, his own hips stuttering as they start to rut against each other in earnest. They quickly get into a slightly stumbling rhythm. It feels so good, their cocks both so hot, so hard. He already knows this is going to be over before it really even starts but he couldn’t care less. “Tony, Tony, yes-”

The brunette all but growls. “That’s it, Petey. Fuck, your cock feels so good, I never- Shit,” Tony pants before spitting into his palm and wrapping his hand around both of their shafts. “Fucking hell-” His toes twitch against the inside of Peter’s ankle. “Pete-”

Peter’s movements get jerkier, his hips stuttering at the feeling of Tony’s wet hand, the way their dicks are sliding against one another. He’s so close, so fucking close. “Please,” he whimpers, fingers digging to Tony’s shoulders where he’s holding on in an attempt to ground himself. HIs tongue licks at his brother’s bottom lip. “Wanna cum, Tony, lemme cum-”

“Yeah, fuck, yes Peter, cum, cum for me-” Tony groans, the speed of his stroking increasing. The rhythm is jerky, and it’s so uncoordinated when combined with their frantic undulating, but it feels amazing. 

“Tony, Tony, Tony,” Peter chants as his orgasm slams into him like a brick wall. His muscles lock up, and there are probably crescent-shaped welts in the skin of Tony’s shoulders and back. Thick, white ropes of cum shoot from his cock and make a mess in his brother’s hand. A whine escapes him as he grows more sensitive in Tony’s grasp. 

The feeling of the warm liquid smearing over his erection is what does the older teen in. He crushes his mouth to Peter’s as he cums, fucking into his fist and rubbing against the other’s softening cock, licking lewdly into the wet of his mouth. “Pete,” he sighs, pulling away after he’s ridden out the wave of his orgasm. 

“I love you,” Peter whispers contently, snuggling in and pressing a kiss to a freckle on Tony’s shoulder. This is everything he’s ever wanted, to be held in his big brother’s arms like this: like a lover. Maybe he was worried for nothing, maybe everything will be okay. Sure, they’ll have to hide it from everyone, especially Mom & Dad, but once they’re both in college… They have different last names, no one would ever have to know. They could be happy. Peter just wants to be happy, just wants this feeling to stay. 

Tony shifts slightly and takes a deep breath, the puff of air ruffling Peter’s sweat-slick auburn curls. “Pete,” he says again, softly. “I love you too, I do.” He pauses, pulling back slightly and loosening his hold on the younger boy and rolling onto his back so that they’re both looking up at the ceiling. “But I-”

Peter freezes, the afterglow fading instantly. His heartbeat picks up, and there’s a slight ringing in his ears. He grips the sweat damp comforter in his hands, fingers twitching restlessly, stroking back and forth over the fabric in an attempt to soothe himself. No. No, no no, this isn’t- Tony- He can’t-

Another heavy sigh. “We can’t- We can’t do this again, Pete,” Tony says into the quiet of the night, still slightly out of breath from exertion. His voice is soft, gentle. He’s trying not to hurt Peter; Peter thinks that’s bullshit.

There’s a lead weight in his stomach. He feels like he’s drowning. He feels like he’s gonna be sick. He feels dirty. He feels- 

He’s so tired of feeling.

Tony hesitates before pulling his shorts up and sliding out of the bed. He reaches out, brushing his fingers over Peter’s hand, jerks back when the younger immediately tenses and recoils from the touch. “I’m sorry,” he whispers before hastily making his way to the door, shutting it gently behind him. 

“Just go, Tony,” he croaks before rolling over in the bed, away from the love of his life his brother. 

Peter lays there for the rest of the night, unmoving, staring at the ceiling, tears running down the sides of his face, seeing nothing. 

If only he could feel nothing, too.

*** 

“Where...where ya goin, Pete?” 

Peter is putting clothes in a small duffel bag. He makes a mental note to remember to grab a new thing of toothpaste when he gets his toiletry bag together. “I’m, uh, gonna go stay with Ned. For a few days.” More like a few weeks, but he doesn’t need to tell Tony that. 

It’s only been two days since they- 

Peter’s already had enough. He can’t be here, he can’t skirt around the elephant that is his feelings towards Tony, can’t handle the awkwardness in the air as his stupid fucking brother tries to go on as if nothing ever happened. As if it meant nothing to him. 

As if Peter meant nothing to him, means nothing to him.

Peter can...he can be okay with that. He has to be. But he can’t be here. He can’t.

“What about mom and da-” Tony cuts himself off, and Peter can tell that’s not what he is really trying to ask. Of course he’s so fucking disgusted, so fearful of someone else knowing, that he can’t even say it. No, what he really means is- 

“I didn’t tell them I kissed you, Tony,” Peter hisses, tears burning in his eyes. He yanks the zipper of his bag closed, biting back a scream when it gets stuck for a second. “I’m not stupid. Why would I tell them what we did? I don’t want them to hate me, too. Don’t worry about what I told them, they said I could go.” 

Maria and Richard are under the impression that Peter’s just stressed about his grades and going a little stir crazy. When they’d talked last night, Mom had frowned gently at him, mentioning how down he’d looked lately and letting him know that he was loved and cherished. Dad had actually been the one to suggest spending some time with Ned; maybe seeing his best friend would help pull Peter out of his funk.

If only they knew. 

Tony gapes at him, an incredulous look on his face. “But what about Tuesday? You’re gonna miss my graduation? For what, to fuck around with Ned? Peter-”

Something in him snaps. He clenches his jaw, swallows harshly. Glares tearily at his brother. “Would you please just stop it?” 

The taller boy sets his shoulders and crosses his arms, defiant. “I don’t want you to go.” His eyes are narrowed, searching Peter’s face. For what, the younger has no idea. Nor does he care. 

“It doesn’t matter what you want, Tony,” he yells, glad that Mom and Dad are out at the grocery store, getting supplies for Tony’s graduation party. His voice cracks on his brother’s name. Always on his name. “Not anymore. I don’t- I know you don’t- Do you know how much it hurts me? To- to hear you? To know, to have to listen to-”

Tony’s mouth opens, but no words come out. “Hear us? You- you heard us? When?” His eyes are wide. He must realize exactly what Peter’s talking about, when he’s talking about, and he looks uncomfortable, vulnerable in a way that Peter’s never seen him before. Something ugly deep inside the younger teen feels satisfied for a moment before it deflates. He’s left feeling just as drained as before. 

Tony continues, “Peter, I-” He cuts himself off, looks away. 

Of course he can’t even come up with something to say.

“For fuck’s sake, Tony, you don’t have to explain everything to me!” It comes out as a sob. Peter feels like he’s a volcano; the words are erupting and he can’t do anything but allow it, powerless to stop them. “Nothing you say will make it better! I know you’re straight! I know it’s- that it’s wrong. I know Pepper is-,” he chokes, gasping. Why is this happening? Everything is going so fast. How is he freezing and on fire at the same time? 

“She’s gorgeous and I’m just the path-th-thetic little br-brother who th-thinks you hung the moon.” Peter’s spluttering, flapping his hands at his sides as he tries to do something with the energy humming inside him. He wants out, he needs Tony to go so that he can finish packing. He has to get out of here. 

Tony takes a step towards him. “No, Peter, how could you-”

Peter’s sniffling, eyes squeezed shut. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, trembling. Why won’t Tony just leave him alone? He just wants to be alone. “I know I’m ugly and I- I bet you can’t w-w-wait to go to MIT, to go away from me!” 

“Babydoll,” is what leaves Tony’s mouth, so soft Peter almost doesn’t hear it. His hands are shaking as they land on his younger brother’s cheeks. Warm tears are gently brushed away by his thumbs. “Pete.” 

Brow furrowed, Peter slowly opens his eyes and blinks the tears back in order to look at his brother. Tony looks...scared? What does he have to be scared of? 

Peter tries to pull away, out of Tony’s grasp but the older teen just clutches him tighter. “Tony- What? It’s fine, j-just stop! Let me go, I need to finish-”

Tony closes his eyes and crashes their lips together.

don’t hate me 

@spidey-sins @silkystark @thegreenmetblue @snailshome @hp-nv-221b @lemondrop313  

if you wanna be untagged lmk 

[milktea-kitty]

Hi! Idk if this is too long but uhh yeah! So basically y/n rlly likes tsukishima, and it’s obvious she’s like like kei! We are gonna get married one day. Stuff like that and and always tried to be near him but kei acts hard to get. so on Valentine’s Day she gives him a note and she’s like I’m sure you know I rlly like you and I want to ask you out. You don’t have to give me and answer right now tho.And she just walks away lol, so then that same day she goes to visit tsukishima at the gym like she always does and she hears him talking shit to yamaguchi. He’s like she’s annoying why can’t she take a hint that I don’t like her. I wish she would never talk to me. So she’s like heart broken and decides that she’s chased him for too long so she stops waiting for him at the school gate to walk with him, she stops giving him bento boxes and little snacks, she stops calling him by his first name, she stops saying hello everytime she sees him, and tsukishima misses her but when he tries to talk to her and accept her confession tsukishima sees y/n and hinata in a romantic moment, he looks at him like she used to look at hinata. :( sorry this is super long I had a dream about this 🟪🟪🟪🟪😳

@shoyosbitchh You’re mind is wonderful my friend

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Waiting 🥀

Paring: Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Warning: Angst

A/N: My first angst story and I hOPE the person who requested it likes it 🙏 thank you so MUCH for requesting. Remember they’re still open!!

Kei and (Y/N)

It wasn’t something tsukishima saw becoming a reality. She was just another fish in the sea.

‘An annoying, dumb, pretty little fish.’

Tsukishima met her his first-year at Karasuno, they were in the same class. (Y/n) didn’t know what it was about him that she felt drawn to at first. It all just fell into place when she saw him at his desk with his signature headphones on, staring out the window without a care in the world.

So she went up to him that day and tried to strike conversation.

Immediately, she learned what kind of person Tsukishima Kei was.

An arrogant little snot who was too know-it-all for his own good.

And that only made her fall more.

Everyday she would slowly make more of an effort to get closer to him. The more she felt comfortable, the more she joked around about them getting married and living together.

But not too far deep down, with all the treats and goodies she offers him, walking home together (which took a bit of convincing) and even calling him by his first name, she knew that all of it was true.

However, in Tsukishimas case...he was conflicted to say the least.

Sure he’s had plenty of annoying people come in and out of his life, but none like you.

You who never gave up for your best interests.

You who would try and visit him after practice just to give him something.

You who always teased him about having a romantic relationship.

And he hated it.

February at Karasuno was so irritating to Tsuki.

Couples at every corner being all close in each other’s faces, ‘disgusting’ he thought.

But of course, you had to top that when you enter his personal space during lunch hour.

“Keiiii~, tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day, whatcha gonna get me?” You ask jokingly.

“Why would I want to get you anything?” He replies not looking up from his homework.

“Don’t be like that, I’ve been so nice to you everydayyy”, you whined poking at his cheek.

“Tch, just because you do it doesn’t mean I have to return the favor. Go eat or something, you’re wasting your free time.” He groans, swatting away your hand.

You sign with a little pouty face and walk away. You weren’t all that sad, truth be told. It was just the way Tsuki is, however tomorrow would be the big day for you.

You were finally going to genuinely tell him about how you feel, no more teasing or joking.

Walking up to him during lunch the next day was a whole other story. You were so nervous even though you’ve done it a million times. ‘I guess this time is a little different’

However, you muster up the courage, and walk over to him card in hand.

Once he saw you just standing in front of his desk, he removes one side of his headphones before sighing,”Can I help you??”

“I-uh...this is for you Kei. I know I joke a lot about marrying you and stuff but, in all honesty I like you.”

He looks at you with an expression you’ve never seen before.

It wasn’t necessarily a cute, happy expression. But it wasn’t a “fuck off” expression either.

You lay the note down on his desk before muttering, “Y-You don’t have to give me an answer right now, I just um- yeah.”

You speed walk back to your desk and lay you head down looking at the opposite wall from Kei.

As the last few classes ended, you eyed him wondering if he was going to talk to you. But, he didn’t. He packed his bag up, putting the note in his volleyball bag and walked out.

‘Maybe he’ll give me an answer after practice’

You thought

Tsukishima hit a wall during this time in his life. (Figuratively and almost literally, he didn’t focus on what was in front of him cause he was thinking about you)

No ones ever “liked” liked him, or even if they did, they never confessed.

I guess walking home with you wasn’t too bad, and the food that you sometimes bring him tasted good and-

‘Damn it’

But he didn’t like the idea of dating. You being his girlfriend?

It sounded outrageous to him. I mean, you were such a pain in his ass, always trying to get him to talk more than he wanted.

Nevertheless, he still didn’t know what to do. To make matters worse, he hadn’t even opened the note you gave him yet.

Practice that day was somewhat weird. To him at least. His blocking was off and he couldn’t keep his eye on the ball like usual. Ukai had to pull him out of a set cause the ball hit him in the face like Hinata (he was so embarrassed). Yamaguchi and even some of the other guys noticed something was up.

When that awful evening came to an end, Kei and Tadashi were left to put equipment away and cleanup.

Little did he know that you were waiting outside, waiting for his answer, waiting for him.

“Hey Tsuki, did something happen today? You seem..off” Yamaguchi asks.

Tsukishima doesn’t know whether to tell the truth or just blow him off.

‘Screw it’

“...that girl (y/n) told me she liked me today.”

“Oh...well she jokes about that all the time what’s the-“

“She was serious this time.”

“....ah….well what’d you say?”

“I didn’t tell her anything, obviously. She’s so dense and annoying, I wish she’d just leave me alone, honestly.”

Tsukishima didn’t look at his friend while saying that, he didn’t know why.

“Oh..I just thought uh..never mind. I guess what you do is your business.” Yamaguchi tries to retort.

You stand outside the gym, tears streaming down like a flood, hand covering your mouth so neither of them could hear your whimpers of pain.

‘I’m so stupid.’ You thought

You walk slowly away from the gym head down.

Then a walk became a run.

Then a run became a sprint.

And soon, a whimper became a scream of defeat.

The next day, Tsukishima waited for you to come up behind him or give him a bright “Good morning Kei”

But you didn’t, you came in and sat down without a word, your glow deafened.

When lunch came around, he caught you walking back in the hallway.

“...hi (y/n)” he chimed.

“Oh um..hi Tsukishima” you muttered, looking and walking away

‘Fuck’

He felt every part of his heart shatter. He stood still, eyes wide and full of worry.

You were the same for the rest of the day. Avoidant, still, numb.

It was like all the life had been sucked out of you.

Your gorgeous smile was gone.

Walking back to the gate, you passed the club room building after school was over

Then, the thought of ‘Does Kei have practice today?’ crossed your mind,

You realized that you didn’t have to ask yourself that question anymore, because you didn’t need to wait for him anymore. Not at the gate, and not for answer.

You press you back against the building and fall, bringing your knees to your head and crying once again.

“(Y/n)?”

You look up and see a mess of red headed hair and kind brown eyes.

“Hinata..” you try and wipe away your tears and sniffle, “you don’t...have practice today??”

He nods his head no replying,” Gym inspection…(y/n) are you okay?”

He kneels down and sits next to you.

“No..But I don’t want to talk about it either.”

“That’s okay! I’ll just-..I’m here for you if you need me.”

“...thank you Shoyo.”

He gives you a flustered smile, with a pair of rosy cheeks, responding, “N-no problem.”

Leaving the classroom, Tsukishima at least hoped you were waiting for him at the gate to walk home.

He shouldn’t have ignored you.

Hell, he shouldn’t have said that shit about you being annoying to Tadashi.

His thoughts are interrupted with the sound of your voice talking to someone.

He follows it peaking the corner of the club room building and then..he sees it.

The look you used to give him.

The look he loved so much, the soft smile, the little pink cheeks, the bright eyes.

He saw it...giving it to Hinata.

And just like you.

A walk became a sprint.

And an insult became a silent, unheard

I love you.

[writteninsunshine]

Heaven’s A Lie - Lucas Baker/Ethan Winters - NSFW

Title: Heaven’s A lie

Author: Reno

Fandom: Resident Evil 7: Biohazard

Setting: Baker Family Estate

Pairing: Lucas Baker/Ethan Winters

Characters: Lucas Baker, Ethan Winters, Mia Winters, Zoe Baker, Jack Baker

Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Romance

Rating: M

Chapters: 1/1

Word Count: 1376

Type Of Work: One-Shot, Part of the For All These Times series, Whump Fic Bingo fill #1

Status: Complete

Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, MLM, Non-Con Kissing, Gore, Blood, Vomit, Sick Fic, Comfort From Whumper, Whump Fic Bingo, Trauma, Traumatic Experiences, Canon-Typical Violence, Mostly Canon Compliant

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.

Summary: The last thing that Ethan needed was Lucas’s comfort, but that didn’t mean he was going to deny him. He didn’t have it in him to fight right now.

AN: Hey guys, it’s me again! Just thought I ought to say, if you want vague updates and to talk to me more, I have a writing Tumblr, too! Twitter is Sunshinecackle, and Tumblr is Writteninsunshine! I also have a writing Discord that is currently pretty dead. xD If you want it, please contact me on Twitter!

So, I was looking for a good whump fic bingo I could use for Ethan, since that man can take a beating like no one else. I didn’t find one I liked, so I made one myself. Requests are open for it, and only three slots are taken out of twenty-five, so please give it a look? People on FFN can PM me for the link or search HimboHungry on Twitter. It’s under my pinned! Warning, it’s a NSFW twitter.

Here we go: https://twitter.com/HimboHungry/status/1391276875415269379

With that, here goes nothing!

Resident Evil Fic Masterlist

Ethan Whump Bingo Fic Masterlist

Heaven’s A Lie

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There was no fighting it, now. Fatigue crept into every fiber of his being, and his eyes could barely stay focused and open. Pain wracked his body, and there was a distinct collection of saliva in his mouth, leaving him nearly drooling as he gasped for air like a man drowning, lost at sea.

0Heaving shoulders and a lurch in his stomach had Ethan crumpling to the grass, hands and knees bracing him against the dewy turf. The humidity of the swamp around them didn’t help the sweat dripping from his face, broken pants bursting from his nose. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to breathe out of that. With a painful heave, he gagged, coughed impossibly hard, and spilled the contents of his stomach all over the ground in front of him. It splashed against his arms, staining the sleeves of his shirt and hitting his face; he would have grimaced if he wasn’t otherwise occupied. Nothing but acid left him, as he hadn’t eaten in God knew how long. Dehydration was going to set in soon and only make the pounding in his head that much worse. Blood pumped loud and harsh in his ears, his vision swam and he felt another dry heave coming on. 

For a moment, he begged any God listening to end this torture, but his ardent pleading fell on deaf ears. Nothing reached out to save him, and death was still lightyears away. How could he still be kicking after all of this? Every injury, every removal of his limbs. Jack had seen to it that he wouldn’t die, he thought, and that was the most shocking education he’d ever had.

Eyes watery and nose dripping over his lips after six more emissions, he staggered back to his feet. Swaying for a few seconds, he scrubbed at his face, smearing the tears and mucus up his cheeks, trying to regain control over himself. He had to get to the barn that Lucas was hiding away in, he had to save Mia, himself, and Zoe. That was his main focus, the only driving force to keep him going right now. A one-track mind helped in this situation, and he stumbled forward, the light peeking out from under the door a beacon showing him where to go next. Would this kill him? Maybe. The heaviness in his arms wasn’t helped by the gun in his hand, his arms nearly limp as he fought against the weakness in his knees.

Not paying attention to where he was going, lumbering ever forward, a sudden shout left him and he plummeted to the ground hard. No time to catch himself, the biting pain in his leg too much for him to handle on such short notice, his face hit the mud hard enough to bruise his cheek. With the wind knocked from his lungs, he lay there in agony for a long moment, eyes screwed shut as he tried to catch his breath.

Once he could wrap his mind around filling his lungs again, his eyelids lifted and fell sluggishly as he pushed himself up off the ground halfway, hips still glued down. Turning to look at his right leg, Ethan winced at the sight of barbed wire looped around his ankle, a thin, short leash of it tied to a stake in the ground. It looked like the kind screwed down, meant to keep a dog in the yard. That was him, now, wasn’t it? A dog trapped in a yard that wasn’t his, kept by someone intent on keeping him. Tears leaked down his face again, his nose a snot faucet, the fire in his face unable to compare to the tight grip ripping into his flesh.

Footsteps alerted him to a presence, and he grabbed the shotgun not far from his hands. They quivered as he looked up, expecting a molded to be coming for him in his hour of darkness. Forcing himself to sit up on his hip, he leveled the gun on Lucas, surprised to see the other man out of his control room.

“Aw, look at you, Ethan…” Lucas chuckled, his grin splitting his face nearly in half, “Caught like a coyote in a trap.” 

Ethan was hyper-aware of Lucas’ southern drawl, ‘cai-yote’ leaving his lips, and he clicked another bullet into the gun in his hands.

“Now, now, no need for that,” Sauntering over, Lucas pried the shotgun from Ethan’s hands with more ease than the injured man wanted to admit to, and he watched as Lucas set it aside. Apparently, he had more sense than to simply throw it, and Ethan recognized that all too well. Self-preservation, at best, but at least Ethan wasn’t going to get shot.

“Fuck off.” Ethan managed, his voice wavering, cracking as Lucas kneeled down to take Ethan’s chin in his filthy hands.

“You ain’t in any position to tell me what to do, now, are ya, Ethan?” Lucas shook his head with a happy chortle, leaning in quickly enough that Ethan was stunned, stuck in place.

Dry, cracked lips met his in a violent kiss, and he tasted blood, snot, salt, and bile as Lucas’ tongue strong-armed its way into his mouth. A disgusted grunt left him as Lucas plundered his mouth, taking from him what he wanted and leaving no room to struggle against his advances. Ethan was exhausted, in too much pain to fight him as Lucas tugged him forward by his armpits, straining the limited reach of the barbed wire lacerating his skin. Another cry of pain left him when Lucas bit into his lip hard enough to split his plump, chapped flesh, leaving a trail of blood down his chin.

“There you go, Ethan… Look so good like this.” Lucas was nearly purring in excitement, blood thrumming through his system, “Want to make you mine.” His whispers against Ethan’s lips almost left him bereft, but he was sure he was past that point, now.

“Wh-wh-what do you want, Lucas?” His tone wasn’t as rough, wasn’t as spiteful as he’d wanted, but Ethan had to take whatever he could get at this point. Spitting at him, Ethan glared as hard as he could with= his wet eyes and watery, almost stern frown. 

“Don’t go playing hard to get, now, Ethan. It’s unbecomin’. You’re dependent on me to get you outta this, ain’tcha? You oughta be nicer to me.” Lucas’s smarmy smile almost made Ethan sick again, he felt his stomach railing against his insides, bile rising in his throat.

Another rough kiss met his mouth, his blood mingling with Lucas’s saliva, staining both of their teeth pink. Suddenly, Ethan shoved at him, unsure when he cared not to give him his ire. God knew Lucas deserved it. Turning just enough to feel safe in this moment of weakness, a few dry heaves soon produced more stomach acid to slap on the ground, splattering more against his chest and arms.

“Can’t handle yourself no more?” Lucas asked, absently rubbing Ethan’s back as he spilled his stomach contents again, eyes red and puffy from tears and throat hoarse. Quivering, he leaned into Lucas’s touch, hating himself for wanting the comfort he provided. Elbows buckling, he did his best to fall to the side that his vomit wasn’t on, shocked to find Lucas scooting forward and sitting down cross legged.

Yanking Ethan into his lap, he held him close, wiping at his face and sweaty forehead.

“Pushin’ you too far, baby boy?” Lucas asked softly, his voice almost tender and eyes soft as he took in the sheer amount of pain in his face. Ethan nodded vaguely, eyelashes fluttering against his bruised cheekbones. Lucas was right. If he’d stayed away, he wouldn’t be suffering like this. On the other hand, Mia would have been, and he couldn’t find it in himself to give up on her. Eyes sunken in, he looked like he might pass out, and Lucas took pity on him. Reaching for the shotgun, he held it up above Ethan’s oblivious head, his eyes closed to the world, before slamming it down against his temple as hard as he could.

The world swam for a moment, Ethan’s vision hot and white for just a second before everything went dark.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

AN: Welp, I feel like this vaguely covers another part of the whump bingo, but I’m not going to count it because the theme is still being caught in a snare. At any rate, I hope you guys enjoyed the ouchies. I had fun writing this! It’s partially a vent piece, as a lot has been happening lately and it’s driving me crazy not getting it out.

Prompt: Caught In A Snare