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#more of my pain now comes from shame about something i did bc i wasn’t feeling anxious enough and did or said something odd or upsetting
newfeeling77 · 11 months
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i wish i had gotten properly medicated n therapized earlier 1. bc it hasnt even started yet i had one therapy appointment and i wont be feeling the effects of medication for another month and a half and 2. im already feeling regretful of the time i wasted these past few months being depressed. not unhappy just apathetic and frustrated. bc objectively im having a good time n learning new things and making friends like its a really good semester but i havent been able to enjoy it bc im currently incapable of enjoying anything. i can appreciate things, i can acknowledge the positive aspects of my life but they dont give me any positive feelings. instead im just angry or overwhelmed all the time
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tojisun · 2 months
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you're breaking my heart with him who we love and i absolutely adore it!!!! (っ◔︣◡◔᷅)っ ❤
may i ask what johnny (and maybe even simon?) would do if reader - after feeling left out for so long - finally decided to move on and/or find someone else? maybe she gravitated towards kyle and/or john bc they’re sweet and gentle with her and her affection is finally being reciprocated?
and please feel free to ignore this if it doesn't interest you. no pressure at all!
ohn my god no bc im so so glad so many of u are brainrotting w me again about 'him who we love' <33 i could not stop thinking about it on our way home yesterday
!! vague descriptions of an injury and an attack; mentioned callsign for reader but its not important!!; and its so so rambly so do forgive me ): // divider by @/plutism <3
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id love to see this happen after that mission mishap with simon and the reader. it takes an explosion; an acrid burn peeling his flesh from his back and you sewing him together with such vitriolic desperation that ghost almost, almost, felt bad for the way he’s treated you; and an apology murmured from the softest lips he’s never really noticed for simon to—
feel his chest twinge.
the denial sits on the tip of his tongue, razor-sharp and blisteringly sour. it waxes, and simon heaves from something more than the pain burrowing deep into his being. he trembles from something that isn’t the agony he feels for returning to johnny as more of a ruined man who is unable to bury the fear of anything that is set ablazed.
(he remembered the day when he finally came to, groggy eyes peeling open before snagging a fracture of liquid orange—fire, his mind screamed, pulsing because: i’m not gonna be able to come back—and lurching out of the bed only for his body to collapse, and he fell with a choked yell, pain blooming from all of his synapses almost like a beast coiled deep into the fabrics of his very existence.
you ran into the room, yelling his name, and something about the way your voice was so raw with worry and anguish, simon was able to calm down. almost like a part of him realized he was safe now, with you; like it knew that you wouldn’t let anything happen to him, not then and not ever.
while you helped him back on the bed, he turned his head to try and see what it was that set him off—
simon’s breath hitched, his eyes straining as a lump lodged itself into his throat because it was—
the fire was—
it wasn’t fire.
there, bouncing off a glass vase, were serpentine rays of the afternoon sun rippling across the walls and bathing him in warm light.
“is there, uh, something you need?” you asked, trying not to hover but unable to truly leave him be.
simon swallowed, running his tongue on the back of his teeth, before murmuring, “shut the curtains.”
you turned to the windows, your brows furrowed, and simon clenched his teeth, bulldozing through the shame curling in the pit of his stomach and added, “please.”
you did what he asked without prodding, and simon swallowed down the rawness of his vulnerability, watching you with something pretty fluttering in his chest but he tried to stomp it down because—
he despises you, remember? so why…)
but the feeling bloats and simon spends the rest of the exfil in silence, watching you—he’s always been watching—but this time it’s without malice. instead, it’s with bubbling interest, pushing at the back of his mind, and rising ever so slightly like a tide.
he thinks of johnny, of the way mactavish had danced around the idea of something more with the three of you, and finds that he’s not too opposed to it anymore. instead, he looks forward to the change.
-
no sooner after the bird touches down on the base, price pulls you into his office. simon’s been wheeled into the sick bay and was stranded there, doctor’s orders, so he only learns about what happened later into the night when mactavish finds him, sorrow so heavily etched on his face.
“tavish?” he asks, ignoring the way his voice comes out as a croak. “what happened?”
“hyde’s gone,” johnny says, slumping into the seat beside simon’s bed and burrowing his head into his palms. “they apparently requested to be assigned somewhere else. cap’n won’t say where.”
“when?” he asks although simon can’t even feel himself move, his mind trying to reconcile the events that happened because there’s no way this occurred in the fly; not when, he remembers, you looked so resolute on the way back like you knew what was going to happen the moment you two returned.
like you had planned this for a while now—
“when’d they ask?”
johnny shifts, meeting his eyes, and simon’s heart crumbles at seeing the weight of johnny’s anguish painted on his face. he sniffles, and rasps out, “probably two months ago, s’what garrick said.”
two months ago—the same night when you managed to find a way to contact the base. the same night when simon’s realized what it must be that he feels for you.
(the same night when you’ve shyly asked him what about mactavish did he like.
“the six inches that you so intimately know,” he replied, cheeky and teasing.
you rolled your eyes, groaning at how disgusting he was, and he piped back how he’s a patient and has all rights to be as gross as he could.
you laughed, chucking a balled paper towel at him and simon remembers the way you looked so…at peace bantering with him that he couldn’t even fathom you were thinking of leaving.
what changed for you? what was it? why couldn’t you have waited—
why didn’t he realize sooner—
whywhywhy?)
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notes: tbh i dont think hyde would gravitate towards price n gaz bc their affections for ghoap, particularly for ghost, was so intense. also, even before this ask ive always planned for hyde to leave. their feelings could potentially risk the team morale, which price even talked to them about in the prev works (mentioned in passing)!
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aphroditestummyrolls · 10 months
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Between Hope and Desperation bc i am a predictable bitch (but it's my birthday so i'm entitled xD)
BIRTHDAY FRIEND BIRTHDAY FRIEND ✨🎉✨🎉✨
For your birthday, you get almost 200 extra words than I usually give for these snippets 😂 I love you, and I hope you’re birthday is as wonderful as you are.
CW for self harm
“All this time, all those bloody lies, and you were just some merchling? Slumming it up for the thrill—?”
“Do I look thrilled?” He didn’t know where he found the energy to snap like he did, but Wylan couldn’t just sit there and take this. Not now, not from Jesper.
He was looking at him the way Wylan always feared he would if he knew the truth.
Merchling. He couldn’t live with it, knowing that was what the only man he’d ever loved thought of him. Even if it’s what he was.
“Nobody chooses the Barrel.” His hands were trembling, throat tight and dry. He fought to swallow around the cold lump lodged in his windpipe, and dug his burnt hand against the dirt floor of… wherever they were. The pain seemed to be the only thing that forced the words to come.
“Then how did you stumble your way down to us?”
“He tried to kill me.” In case you missed that— it’s the reason we’re here. He wanted to say something mean about head trauma, but held his tongue. Now that the important words were out, chilling the air between them, Wylan couldn’t seem to stop.
He’d never said it all out loud before.
“Part of me thinks he always wanted to kill me, but I know that’s not true. You can’t be disappointed in someone unless you were pinning your hopes on them at one point. Right?” He laughed, a little manic, but Jesper had gone silent and still.
Don’t look at me like that, he begged, I’m not a stranger. You know me! Better than anyone!
“I, um, you know— y’know I can’t read. And he tried— my father— he tried everything to get it to take. Tutors, treatments, therapies, b-beatings. He was desperate for me to learn. I was… I was desperate, too. But, I just… it’s not something I can do.”
He’d scraped his fingers raw. The dirt had gone muddy and hot with his blood.
“I ended up in the Barrel because he gave up on me. I was a, a defective attempt at an heir, and his new wife was pregnant. So, he… he told me he was sending me away, to a music school.” That was always the worst part, for some reason: the shame of hoping for that split second before everything went wrong. “He put me on a boat with two of his men, and…”
For a moment, he was certain he couldn’t breathe, that a broad hand was still crushing down on him. But, he managed the words.
That was when Jesper finally moved in his periphery. He’d long since been too cowardly to look up at him, but now, he couldn’t avoid it. Stretching to the very end of his chain, Jes scooped Wylan’s bloodied fingers into his palm, letting out a quiet curse. He held his wounded hand like a baby bird fallen from a nest, barely curling around the damage, but keeping them safe from more harm nonetheless.
He missed the sting of it immediately, but Sweet Ghezen, that callused, familiar warmth felt so good.
“I swam up the canal to the Barrel.” He finished in a whisper. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to meet Jesper’s luminous eyes in the dark, to see his face. His bruised, beaten, beautiful face.
If you’d just died when you were supposed to, he wouldn’t be here.
“Wy?” Jesper finally breathed. “Wylan, please look at me.”
And Wylan had never considered himself particularly good at resisting. Especially not a request from Jesper Fahey.
He looked resolute— somehow older than Wylan had ever seen him. Stony.
“That man is a monster. And no matter how you made it to the Barrel, I… I’m so sorry.”
He wasn’t mad at him. He was mad for him. He was—
“The only person who’s going to die in this room is your miserable excuse for a father.”
He was holding his hand; he had blood slicked from his temple to his collar; and he was like some type avenging angel, staring Wylan in the face like he could will hope back into his heart.
And, if anyone could, it was him.
This is the first time I’ve ever written a Wylan Backstory Reveal™️, but I know how much you love them ❤️ and this story is so intense! I hope you like it 🎂 happy birthday, I love you, and thank you for playing my little game.
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shesinshambles · 1 year
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Ghost BC Whump Month Day 4: Shaky
For @cirrus-ghoulette's Whump Month!
So this is actually a snippet from my WIP Selfish Creatures. It builds on my hcs about the papas' skull paint. You can find it here if you're interested!
Echoes of unholy psalms spilled into his quarters through the cracks in the door, flooding into the corridors from the chapel. Terzo shivered, tapping the brush rhythmically to the dim echoes in anxious anticipation. He’d not forgotten the paint. The path of the cool brushstrokes on his skin as Secondo mapped out the shape, the geometric blocks of thick black around his cheeks imprinted in his mind as he had gaped in awe at his reflection. And now Terzo sat at that same vanity, in the same bench. The only differences now were that the reflection staring back at him was decades older. Smile lines and crinkles had formed at the corners of his eyes. His nose had grown more prominent, more like his brothers’, jaw squarer. And, he was the one to wield the brush.
He swallowed thickly. When had the wonder in those wide eyes been replaced with terror at this very prospect? Terzo saw nothing and yet everything of that little boy right now, so frightened, so amazed at what his brothers had become. And it took everything to fight against the tears burning at the corners of his eyes. The brush shook erratically in his hand, and he set it down with a miserable groan.
“I can’t do this,” Terzo whimpered, burying his face into his hands as the world began to swim around him and his ribs and sternum began to ache as though heavy stones were pressing hard against his chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe. They came quick, rattled, shallow, never allowing him to get just enough air to collect himself.
“Can’t do what little one?” Secondo’s large hand came to rest on the back of his neck, twisting and curling the ends of his hair at his nape. Something the older man had done since Terzo could remember; it had always felt like home. Safe. A steady presence throughout his childhood, ever reminding him that Secondo was always there, had always been there, even when Nihil had chosen not to be, and when Primo had crumbled into himself. Secondo had not. He’d kept the crumbling to a minimum, at least until Terzo took the mitre, it remained to be seen how retirement would suit him. But that hand would remain there, and that should bring him some comfort. But now as he sat here, lifting his hands from his face, there was a solemn weight to that hand.
He peered into the mirror with tearful eyes, tear stains leaving their shameful tracks through the thick layer of white paint. Secondo stood behind him, as he had done before, his own face pristinely made up for the ritual; indecipherable as it regarded their reflections. The slight tickle at the nape of his neck the only thing reminding Terzo that the image of his older brother was solid and real, not simply one of the portraitist’s uncanny paintings. There was no use fighting the tears, it wasn’t as though he could salvage the makeup. No, it was already ruined. He would need to start over. If only his damned hand would stop shaking. He turned away from the vanity, ducking his head so he would not have to face Secondo’s immediate gaze.
“I can’t get the paint right,” he sniffled, wiping his nose, a smear of white coming off on the back of his hand. “My hands are too shaky.” Terzo heard him shift, the fabric of his vestments brushing against his hair as Secondo reached forward, sighing heavily with the movement. Then, he found a long finger curling under his chin, tilting his head back so that Terzo had no choice but to face his older brother’s stern regard. Rather surprisingly however, the man’s eyes were soft —almost pained— as they slowly scanned over the streaky white mess on his face. Maybe Primo was right. Of course he was right. Primo was always right. That Secondo did have a weakness, that he wasn’t as fearless as Terzo had always thought he was. It was an easy assumption to make, but nonetheless, Primo had shaken his head when Terzo had told him that he wished he was more like Secondo, he wasn’t scared of anything. He didn’t want to be afraid anymore.
“He isn’t fearless, little one.” Primo had sighed, resting his elbows against the row of pews in front of them. He’d found Terzo alone in the chapel just the day before, sitting in utter silence in an empty pew, terrified out of his damned mind. “He fears for you.” Terzo thought he could see that fear now in his older brother’s eyes as he peered down at him, brushing a tear off his chin.
“Alright then,” Secondo murmured, his large hand tucking an errant lock of hair behind Terzo’s ear. “Let’s get you ready, hmm?” Terzo sniffled, nodded, and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I’ll take this off and redo the base, then I’ll paint your design,” Secondo rambled, already wiping off the makeup with the wet cloth and remover that Terzo had laid out earlier.
“It’s the one you painted for me, when I was younger.”
“I remember the one,” Secondo hushed. He narrated every action aloud in that level tone to fill the space and give Terzo something to hold onto from outside his own head. It was effective, as Terzo sank back down into his bones, noticing the dull ache that was blooming from sitting at the worn vanity for so long.
Secondo’s narrations had always worked, actually, and Terzo’s mind drifted off, remembering long sermons and tedious rituals and functions as a toddler. When once they had finally ended, he would refuse to walk back to their living quarters, much less stand, sniveling as he clung to Secondo’s leg.  “I’m going to pick you up then little one,” he would whisper, scooping him up in his strong arms and settling him over his shoulder. He would usually still be crying up a storm at that point. He was always a little dramatic. “we’re going to take the elevator up…Nearly there.” By the time they’d reach their suite, he would already be asleep, waking up the following morning in his, or more often than not, Secondo’s bed.
At some point throughout his reverie, he’d stopped crying, the gentle pressure of a brush smoothing over his cheeks and the lingering aroma of incense from Secondo’s vestments pulling him back into focus.
“I wasn’t perfect throughout my reign. I hope you know that.” Furrowing his brow, Terzo peered into his brother’s eyes, the older man’s twinkling for a moment before they slanted back down in concentration as he mapped out the shape around his eye socket. “I am not…” he swallowed, “I am not what you know me to be, or knew, I’m sure you’ve realized at least part of that as you’ve grown up. They don’t love me, little one. They fear me.”
“I know,” he murmured, feeling the sting build up once more. He wouldn’t cry. Secondo was too far along in the paint now, he’d probably smack him upside the head if he ruined it now. No. Emeritus the Second would do that. Secondo would simply sigh and, maybe with a stern expression, wipe up the tears and begin retouching. But it was true, and Terzo didn’t have to search too hard to find evidence of it, especially when his closest friends were ghouls. He saw the way siblings averted their gaze as Emeritus the Second parted the sea of black habits in the halls. He heard the whispers, heard tales from the ghouls. He knew.
“I was cruel. I’ve done terrible things, little one. Just like Nihil, and everyone before me.”
“Not Primo,”
“No. Not Primo,” he murmured, the brush stilling for a moment against Terzo’s brow, “And you neither.” Secondo set the brush down and took hold of Terzo’s shoulders, urging him to turn back to the mirror. He peered back at himself, mouth agape. The same two faces from years past stared back at him, older, wearier, eyes more watery, more frightened. Satan in Hell do we ever look frightened. The sand in the hourglass had run out and all of a sudden there was no more slack on that leash, and sensing his trepidations, Secondo squeezed his shoulders, leaning in close to Terzo’s ear. “You are Terzo Emeritus first of your name and you are the kindest most compassionate the bloodline has ever known. You were chosen by the Old One himself to carry this burden and there is no one more capable than you. Never forget who you are, little one. Never.” And with an affectionate kiss to the top of his head, Secondo sealed Terzo’s fate.
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whenfatecollides · 2 years
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a bit of a vent/update (it’s heavy). I’ve always dreaded the ‘where do you see yourself in 5 years?’ question because I honestly have never been able to picture anything for myself that felt real and tangible and something that I could actually want and achieve in the future. I would be like ‘yeah I want to be dating my future girlfriend by then’ or ‘yeah I want to be working a job that I actually like’ or ‘yeah I want to feel like I’m doing something meaningful with my life by then’ but it was all very superficial in a way, it felt like I was saying rehearsed words and although those are still things that I want, there’s a lot more detail to them now. tbh since I finished high school (almost 10 years ago at this point..) that I’ve felt really behind in life compared to my friends, and other people in general, but at the same time it took me 14/15 years to actually figure out what happened to me when I was a pre-teen and why I spent 10+ years of my life crippled by depression, so all things considered I think I came out of all that pretty okay. I started therapy about 5 years ago and altho it was a slow progress, I can at least say that I’m not on the verge of feeling suicidal anymore. I think being a teen on tumblr in 2010-2013 definitely didn’t help much with that either, the romanticisation of depression and self harm back then was Real and the last thing I should have been exposed to at the time. it was to the point that I actually tried to kill myself when I was 16, right before a family trip. I can talk about this now, but I can tell you all as well, this was a root of deep shame for me until 2020, when I finally had the courage to tell my mom and siblings about it, because it made me feel so ungrateful, stupid and generally a shit person for not appreciating everything good that I had, while at the same time it made me hate myself for not actually going through it fully, to the point that I always thought that I would take this to my grave without letting anyone know. at this point, I’ve forgiven myself for it and acknowledged that, despite how hurtful it was, this is a common pain and, unfortunately, many people know it too. No matter how much I convinced myself of it back then, I was never alone in that pain. At the same time I made really great friends here (some I’ve been friends with for over 10 years now), even met some of them in real life, and it was overall the place that made me feel comfortable enough to consider (and accept) that maybe I wasn’t straight. so not everything was bad.
it was a few weeks into 2022 when I finally figured out what had happened to me, why most of who I was so deeply lost in shame, to the point that it felt like I had been drowning most of my life. there were several things that contributed to it like, giving up who I was out of pressure to please my family (until I was around 23 - constantly hearing ‘you should let your hair grow’, ‘you should dress more like a girl’ etc etc when you’re a 10 year old really does a number), giving up the things I loved in order to pass as “normal”, my father not being emotionally available (or simply available in general tbh - unfortunately too common as well), my mom having to take care of 4 kids and therefore not really being emotionally available either, dealing with womanhood, puberty and all those nice, not at all confusing and hard, things by myself because I thought that if I could just ignore it it would not be real (a nice not at all dumb trait I got from my father - thankfully I’m over that), consequently emotionally abandoning my closest friends bc of all that further isolating myself. and I could go on and on, but the reason why I’m saying all this is that maybe it can spark a light in someone else too. Until this year, I thought that nothing had happened to me, that I had no reason to feel the way I did back then, and it was suffocating to think that while the pain I felt was very real. and you may ask ‘okay, where does shame come into the picture here?’ so here’s a few that I could identify from the things I said above - shame for my sexuality (giving up things I loved to pass as “normal”), shame for being gender non conforming (pressure to please my family), shame for not feeling connected with my parents (having friends who do have good relationships with theirs), shame for not having the life they expect of me, shame for not having the life I think I’m supposed to have to “impress” my friends, therefore hiding away, isolating myself, further convincing myself that no one else was going through the same. until I realised that, of course, I would never find other people talking about how they felt the same, because we were all hiding away.
this isn’t a story about how suddenly I’m cured from depression or anything like that, there’s still days and days, but figuring out why I felt the way I did back then was a major step towards finding healing, and I feel like I’ve been changing very rapidly over the past 5 months because of it. recognizing that my self-criticism was doing more harm than good (I wouldn’t talk to my friends the same way I talk to myself sometimes..), that I can choose self-compassion instead, and the good-old exercising, journaling, reading, eating and sleeping well, really made major differences (as well as keep going to therapy of course, it was important to have someone trained to talk about the really heavy and more complicated stuff).
in the end, this has been a journey towards (re)finding myself, and I finally have an answer to the question that I found so dreadful ‘where do you see yourself in 5 years?’. and for the first time in my life, I’m not afraid to try, I’m not afraid to fail, I’m not afraid of the set backs I may face. for the first time in my life, I can actually picture a future for myself, and I’m actually excited to see myself getting there. I don’t have it all figured out, but I do know that I’m persistent. in the end, I think this is also a bit of a letter to everyone who’s lost in life, I’m currently 27 and I’m now figuring out a path that I might actually enjoy to take and that makes sense to me. If you’re like me, you probably also feel like you’ve run out of time and that there’s no way you can still turn your life around, but to be honest, who really knows how much time we have left? You make a little bit of time now, and deal with tomorrow, 3 months, 5 years from now, when it comes. I have no idea what turns life will still take and where I’ll end up after all, but I do know that recognizing my pain, owning up to the shameful feelings I had (and still have), accepting my feelings and thoughts as they are (failing a lot and trying again), definitely took me from a drowning person to a vivid swimmer. I’ve always liked to share my thoughts here, but recently having the number of followers increase on this blog has made it feel quite... intimidating to share pieces of my life like before. still, this was something I felt was important for me to share, even if just to say, feeling lost and behind in life is a normal part of the human experience.
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janecrockeyre · 3 years
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scum villain is a greek tragedy disguised as a regular tragedy disguised as a comedy disguised as a danmei
this is going to be long, and this is only PART ONE.
a.k.a, Analysing the plot of Scum Villain’s Self Saving System through Aristotle’s Poetics, because I Have Mental Issues
Part One: Introduction and the Tragic Hero
Scum Villain’s Self Saving System is a tragedy disguised as a comedy, unless you’re Shen Yuan, in which case it’s a mixture of a romance and a survival horror. It's a fever dream. It's a horrible, terrible book that made me feel new undiscovered emotions when I finished reading it. 
The thing is... SVSSS shares characteristics with some of the most famous tragedies in the West, such as Oedipus Rex, Medea, Antigone, the Oresteia... if you haven’t read these, I’ll explain everything. But the gist of my argument is this: SVSSS is the perfect tragedy. In triplicate. 
Tragedy as a genre is old as balls and so it has meant slightly different things to different people over the last few thousand years. I'll be focusing on ancient Greek tragedy, which was performed at the yearly Festival of Dionysus in Athens during the 500-350s BC (give or take a hundred years). Aristotle, when writing about this very specific subset of tragedy, had no idea that one day Scum Villain would be written, and then that I would be using his work as a way to look at Shen Qingqiu’s Funky Transmigration Mistake. Anyway!
Greek tragedy greatly influenced European dramatic tradition. I have a lot of opinions about white academics idolising and upholding the classics as the "paragon of culture" but I'll withhold them for now. I have no idea if MXTX has read Greek tragedy or not, so don't take this as me saying they are writing it. 
In my opinion, tragedy is a universal human constant. We are surrounded by pain and hurt and none of it makes any sense, so we seek to process that pain through drama, art, literature, etc. We want to understand why pain happens, and how it happens, and try to make sense of the senseless. The universe is cold and cruel and random. Tragedy eases some of that pain. 
On that note: Just because I am analysing Scum Villain through a Greek lens doesn't mean that it was written that way. I'm pasting an interpretation onto the book when there's probably a very rich and deep history of Chinese tragedy that I just don't know about. If you ever want to talk about that, please, god, hit me up, I would love to learn about it!! 
Anyway, tragedy. MXTX is excellent at it! Mo Dao Zu Shi? Painful dynastic family tragedy. Heaven Official's Blessing? Mostly romance, but she managed to get that pure pain in there, huh? 
But in my opinion, Scum Villain holds the crown for the most tragic of her stories. MDZS was more of a mystery. TGCF was more of a romance. Neither of them shy away from their tragic elements. 
Scum Villain would fit right in between the work of Sophocles, Euripides and Aeschylus. How? Let me show you. Join me on my mystery tour into the world of "Aristotle Analyses Danmei..."
Part One: The Tragic Hero
What is a tragic hero? Generally, Greek tragic heroes are united by the same key characteristics. He must be imperfect, having a "fatal flaw" of some kind. He must have something to lose. And he must go from fortune to misfortune thanks to that fatal flaw. 
There are two (technically three) tragic protagonists in SVSSS and all of them are tragic in different but formulaic ways. Each protagonist has their own version of “hamartia” or a “fatal flaw”. 
Actually, hamartia isn’t necessarily a flaw - rather, it is a thing which makes the audience pity and fear for them, a careful imperfection, a point of weakness in the character’s morality or reasoning that allows for bad things to happen to them. For example, in Oedipus Rex, the king Oedipus has a “fatal flaw” of always wanting to find the truth, but this isn’t exactly a flaw, right? Note: this flaw can be completely unwitting, as we see with Shen Yuan. It can also be something that the protagonist is born with, some kind of trait from birth or very young. 
Shen Yuan
Shen Yuan’s “hamartia” is his rigid adherence to fate and his inability to read a situation as anything but how he thinks it ought to be. He believes that Bingmei will grow into Bingge, and it takes several years, two deaths, and some truly traumatising sex to convince him otherwise. 
Shen Jiu
Shen Jiu’s fatal flaw is his cruelty. It is his own sadistic treatment and abuse of Binghe which directly leads to his eventual dismemberment. This is kind of a no-brainer. Of course, it isn't all that simple, and as an audience we pity him for his cruelty as much as we fear it because we know it comes from his own abuse as a child. This just makes him even more tragic. Delicious. 
Luo Binghe
Luo Binghe’s fatal flaw is a complicated mix of things. It is his position as the “protagonist” which compels him to act in certain ways and be forced to suffer. It is his half-demonic heritage, something entirely out of his control, which sets in motion his tragic reversal of fortune when he gets yeeted into the Abyss. He also, much like Shen Yuan, has the propensity to jump to conclusions and somehow make 2 + 2 = 5. 
As well as having their respective “flaws”, all three protagonists match the rough outline of a good tragic hero in another way: they are in a position of great wealth and power. Even when you split the different characters into different “versions”, this still holds true. Yes, Luo Binghe is raised a commoner by a washerwoman foster mother, but his dad is an emperor and he also ends up becoming an emperor himself. 
Yes, Shen Jiu is an ex-slave and a victim of abuse himself, but Shen Qingqiu is a powerful peak lord with an entire mountain’s worth of resources at his back. 
Shen Yuan is a second generation new money rich kid. 
Bingge is a stereotypical protagonist with a golden finger. Bingmei is a treasured and loved disciple with a good reputation and a privileged seat by his shizun’s side. 
In a tragedy, having this kind of good fortune at the beginning of your story is dangerous. Chaucer says that tragedy is (badly translated into modern english) “a certain story / of him that stood in great prosperity / and falls out of high degree / into misery, and ends up wretchedly”. If we follow this line of thinking, a good tragedy is about someone who has a lot to lose, losing everything because of one fatal point of weakness that they fail to address or understand. 
If we look at Shakespeare, this is what makes King Lear such a fantastic tragic protagonist. He is a king in control of most of England, who from his own lack of wisdom and excess of pride, decides to split his kingdom apart to give to his daughters, favouring his murderous, double crossing progeny, and condemning his only actually filial daughter to death. He loses his kingdom, his mind, and his beloved daughter, all because of his own stupidity.
This brings us to:
Part Two: Peripeteia
This reversal of fortunes is called peripeteia. It is the moment where the entire plot shifts, and the hero’s fortunes go from good to bad. Think of it like one of those magic eye puzzles, where you stare at the image until a 3D shark appears, except you realise the shark was always there, you just couldn't ever see it, waiting for you, hungry, deadly, always lurking just behind that delightful pattern of random blue squiggles. 
Each tragic hero has their own moment of peripeteia in SVSSS, sometimes several:
Shen Qingqiu
In the original PIDW, SQQ’s peripeteia presumably occurs when he finds out that Bingge didn’t perish in the Abyss but has actually been training hard to come and pay him back. There’s really not much I’m interested in saying here - as a villain, OG!SQQ is cut and dry, and the audience doesn’t really feel any pity or fear for him. As Shen Yuan often mentions, what the audience feels when they see OG!SQQ is bloodlust and sick satisfaction. There is also the trial at Huan Hua Palace, which I will talk about in Shen Yuan’s section. 
Shen Yuan (SQQ 2.0)
One of SY’s most poggers moment of peripeteia is the glorious, terrifying section between hearing Binghe for the first time after the Abyss moment, and getting shoved into the Water Prison. 
“Behind him, a low and soft voice came: “Shizun?”
Shen Qingqiu’s neck felt stiff as he slowly turned his head. Luo Binghe’s face was the most frightening thing he had ever seen.
The scariest thing about it was that the expression on his face was not cold at all. His smile wasn’t sharp like a knife. Rather, it showed a kind of bone-deep gentleness and amiability.”
This is the moment of true horror for Shen Yuan, because he knows what happens next: the plot unfurls before him, inevitable and painful, and he knows that death awaits him at Luo Binghe's hands (lol). Compare it with the bone deep certainty with which he faces his own downfall during the sham of a trial later in the chapter (I’ve bolded the important part):
“In the original work, Qiu Haitang’s appearance signified only one thing: Shen Qingqiu’s complete fall from grace. [...] Shen Qingqiu’s heart streamed with tears. Great Master… I know you’re doing this for my own good, but I’ll actually suffer if she speaks her words clearly. This truly is the saying “not frightened of doing a shameful deed, just afraid the ghost (consequences) will come knocking”!”
After the peripeteia is usually the denouement where the plot wraps up and the threads are all tied together leaving no loose ends, but because this tragedy isn’t Shen Yuan’s but the former Shen Jiu’s, it’s impossible to finish. 
Shen Yuan cannot provide the meaningful answers that the narrative demands because 1) he doesn’t have any memory of doing anything, and 2) he wasn’t the person who did them. Narratively, he cannot follow the same path as the former SQQ because he lacks the same fatal flaw: cruelty. 
This is why Binghe doesn’t kill him - because he loves him, rather than despises him. And this is why Shen Yuan has to sacrifice himself and die for Luo Binghe in order to save him from Xin Mo: because the narrative demands that denouement follows peripeteia, and SQQ’s fate is in the hands of the narrative. 
(Side note: I believe that this literal death also represents the death of OG!SQQ's tragic arc. The body that committed all those crimes must die to satisfy the narrative. SQQ must die, like burning down a forest, so that new growth can sprout from the ashes. After this, Shen Yuan's story has more room to develop instead.)
It must happen to show Bingmei that SQQ loves him too. And this brings us to Bingmei.
Bingmei
Bingmei has two succinct moments of utter downfall. The first is a literal fall - his flaw, his demonic heritage, leads his beloved shizun to throw him down into the Abyss. From his point of view, SQQ is punishing him simply for the status of his birth. He rapidly goes from being loved and cherished unconditionally, to being the victim of an assassination attempt. 
He realises that he is totally unlovable: that for the crimes of his species that he never had a hand in, he must pay the price as well: that his shizun is so righteous that no matter what love there was between them, if SQQ sees a demon, he will kill it. Even if that demon is Bingmei. 
The second moment is when SQQ dies for him. Again, from his point of view, he was chasing after a man who was struggling to see him as a human being. Shen Qingqiu’s death makes Bingmei realise that he has been completely misunderstanding his shizun: that SQQ would literally die for him, the ultimate act of self sacrifice from love: that SQQ loved him despite his demon heritage. 
Much like King Lear holding the corpse of his daughter and wailing in sheer grief and pain because he did this, he caused this, Bingmei gets to hold his shizun's cold body and cry his eyes out and know that it was his fault. (Kind of.)
(Yes, I’m bringing Shakespeare into this, no I am not justifying myself)
Maybe I'm a bit sadistic, but that scene slaps. Let me show you a comparison of scenes so you get the picture. 
Re-enter KING LEAR, with CORDELIA dead in his arms; EDGAR, Captain, and others following
KING LEAR
Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones:
Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld use them so
That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever!
I know when one is dead, and when one lives;
She's dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass;
If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,
Why, then she lives.
[...]
 KING LEAR
And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life!
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,
And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,
Never, never, never, never, never!
Pray you, undo this button: thank you, sir.
Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips,
Look there, look there!
Dies
Versus this scene in SVSSS: 
Luo Binghe turned a deaf ear to everything else, greatly agitated and at a loss of what to do. He was still holding Shen Qingqiu’s body, which was rapidly cooling down. It seemed like he wanted to call for him loudly and forcefully shake him awake, yet he didn’t dare to, as if he was afraid of being scolded. He said slowly, “Shizun?”
[...]
Luo Binghe involuntarily held Shen Qingqiu closer.
He said in a small voice, “I was wrong, Shizun, I really… know that I was wrong.
“I… I didn’t want to kill you…”
PAIN. SO MUCH BEAUTIFUL PAIN. Yes, I know Shakespeare isn’t Athenian, but he was inspired by the good old stuff and he also knew how to write a perfect tragedy on his own terms. Anyway. I’ll find more Greek examples later.
This post was a bit all over the place, but I hope it has been fun to read. Part Two will be coming At Some Point, Who Knows When. This is a bit messy and unedited, but hey, I’m not getting paid or graded, so you can eat any typos or errors. Unless you’re here to talk to me about Chinese tragedy, in which case, please pull up a seat, let me get you a drink, make yourself at home.
ps: if you want to retweet this, here is the promo tweet!
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teklarn · 3 years
Text
𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓬𝓻𝔂 𝓽𝓸𝓸, 𝓲𝓯 𝓲𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾
character(s): izuku midoriya x gn!reader (x katsuki bakugou) 
a/n: gosh i love angst (quick note!! i edit to the best of my ability, however it’s easy to miss things, and i type 100 words per minute, so im sorry if i miss some things!) this ain’t a poly relationship btw, i don’t feel like i could write that well (no shame to people who do!! personally i feel like i would butcher it) 
reblogs are greatly appreciated! 
based off the song: it’s my party by lesley gore
summary: y/n realizes going to katsuki bakugou’s wedding was a mistake
genre: angst all the way shawties 
warnings: light cursing, heartbreak, alcohol, one-sided pining (reader), aged up/pro-hero au, sad reminiscing bc ahaha bakugou made us sad :’) and a crap load of references to the song, friend zoning (eesh) 
word count: 2,566
ik yall are waiting for a part 2 of brutal and part 3 of you’re not my boyfriend but this idea just struck i had to get it down pls 
- - - 
“let’s raise a toast to our finest lovebirds, my best friend and his wife, katsuki bakugou and ochaco uraraka!” kirishima took a sip of champagne. 
you lifted your beverage in unison with the others seated at your table but did not drink. you blinked down at the fizzing beverage. 
“we wish you all the best,” kirishima said. “you and your best buds have no doubt you two’ll be known as some of the most indestructible symbols of peace.” 
another wave of applause passed among the crowd. the last toast was finished and the music resumed. your entire table left you sitting. it wasn’t like you knew anyone here, anyways. nobody except for the few classmates bakugou was still in touch with. 
those people consisted of izuku midoriya, who was sitting at the table across from you, as well as across the dance floor. 
the lights twinkled up again, red, blue, and green flashing along the floor. 
you couldn’t deny it. bakugou in a red suit, uraraka in a wedding dress fell just above her knees, a red bow tied around her waist. you did not doubt that if you were to be sold as a healthy person on the black market, that dress would still be worth more than you. 
the only comfort you had was midoriya, who had greeted you when you came in, but the two of you had exchanged no further words. but he looked equally as miserable as you. 
uraraka and bakugou were perfect together. they looked happy. and you were happy to see bakugou happy. happy to see uraraka happy with him. 
bakugou dipped his newlywed wife to the beat of the music. her back arched perfectly into his large hands. 
what hurts the most was that, while you wished it was you instead of her on that dance floor, you knew it wouldn’t work out. 
not that you and bakugou wouldn’t have worked out. the two of you were a perfect couple! 
what hurts the most was that it was a wish, and in every near universe, you still didn’t have that ring. 
uravity and dynamight simply looked...happier. 
you stormed out, shaking. why was your katsuki kissing her? holding her when it should have been you? 
deep down, you knew you had no right. you and bakugou were barely a couple. throughout his years at yuuei, he’d calmed down immensely. so much that he could strike up a conversation with nearly everyone. as it turns out, introverted katsuki bakugou was a shameless flirt. 
the two of you exchanged flitting glances from time to time, but it was never anything serious. at least to him, it wasn’t. 
you knew he’d never taken the flirting seriously, and you also knew about his aching feelings for uraraka. how he covered his mouth whenever she walked by. how his voice raised just a bit, and how soft his eyes got. 
you shouldn’t have been surprised. he never even hinted that he might have had romantic feelings for you. 
the entire room erupted with applause as he kissed her. the katsuki bakugou, kissing someone? pfft, only in dreams. 
for some, the dream would be good. like uraraka, who had shamelessly kissed him back. 
for you, it was a complete nightmare. 
the blaring music, the lights, the balloons, the ‘happy graduation class of 1-A!’ 
you drowned it all out. you curled your knees to your chest. you had no right to be hurt. not at all. they were his emotions. you had no control over them. 
loneliness clouded over you. your chest screamed with longing. a longing to be held. be wanted by him. 
you were alone. nobody was coming to comfort you. nobody was- 
the door opened, clicking shut just as quickly. someone sniffled. 
your eyes flicked up from your knees. 
“y/n? i...i’m sorry, i had no idea anyone was out here...i can leave...”
“it’s alright, izuku.” 
izuku took a swig from a bottle containing something much heavier than champagne. 
that same tug in your chest came about. you were tired of seeing the billboards, the magazines. tired of seeing the unquestionably perfect relationship, perfect love bloom right before you. 
dynamight and uravity this! dynamight and uravity that! 
the music was loud enough, the lights were busy enough, and the people were ignorant enough to neglect your crying figure. 
this was supposed to be my party. he loved me first. 
“you okay?” you asked, swiping your nose. 
izuku looked back at the graduation party. “no, y/n. i’m not.” 
“then we’re both absolute shit.” you let him help you up. “why’re you crying?” 
“just...just uraraka.” 
“for me it’s just bakugou.” 
just as bakugou had calmed down during his years at yuuei, izuku had earned a sense of sarcasm. “are they just oblivious or stupid?” 
“goodness, izuku,” you joked, pressing a hand to your shuddering chest. “calling uraraka stupid?” 
he gave you a sad side-smile. you listened in silence as the upbeat music played on. 
“i guess we’re the stupid ones.” he sighed, chest heaving a little. 
“i guess,” you agreed. he pulled you into a hug, and you let the tears flow. your sobs corrupted your chest as you curled into his arms. “why? why did it have to be her?” 
“not all heroes end up happy, y/n.” 
you looked up at him, eyes puffy, sniffling. “why can’t we be part of that small portion of heroes who are?” 
izuku looked up, trying to neglect the water pooling in his own eyes. “i guess...well, not to be a narcissist—” he let out a breathy chuckle, “―but if you noticed, all the greatest heroes die with some kind of regret.” 
“maybe i don’t want to be a good hero.” you ignored his efforts to lighten the mood. 
“heroes don’t always get to choose whether they’ll be good or not. some things just happen.”
“i’m sorry, izuku.” you swiped at your eyes. “you’re hurt just as badly as me. i don’t want to make it—” 
“hey.” izuku gently pried your hands away from your face, fingers ghosting over your wrists. his emerald eyes gleamed as they stared into yours. “don’t invalidate your feelings just because of me. we’re both hurting, but that doesn’t mean i won’t listen to you.” 
your sobs came back again, and you fell into his chest. 
bakugou spun uraraka, laughing gently as she twirled in his arms. his eyes lit up whenever he saw her. they twinkled. he sparkled. his smile was dazzling. and he was everything you never had. 
you were a heartbroken mess, even after all these years. there was a list of all the reasons you were mad at him, and yourself. 
your sobs were almost uncontrollable, and at this point, you were shocked nobody came to check on you. not that you cared very much. even if you were making a small effort to hide your face, it still would have been nice to feel a touch on your shoulder, someone perhaps shaking you gently to make sure you were awake. 
not that you’d tell them what was wrong. you just wanted to know somebody cared, and to have the option to talk to somebody if you needed to do so. 
but here you were. cheesy, upbeat fifties music echoed along the walls of the room. bakugou had secretly adored artists from back then, and you’d often catch him dancing and singing along to long-forgotten oldies. 
if you weren’t his best friend, you would have blown off coming here and binge-watched ‘my best friend’s wedding’ and sobbed. 
your head was down, forehead leaning on the backs of your forearms stacked upon each other. tears were streaming down, your shoulders shuddering with each weak breath sucked in and released. 
until bakugou chose you, you had no reason to smile. at least not now. by no means were you desperate. love sometimes did that to people. made them look needy, look unwanted. 
you’ve had plenty of options in the past, but the one person who you wanted didn’t want you back. didn’t even care. 
since the graduation party, uraraka and you had been a bit tense. a part of her felt like she knew how you felt, and how bakugou mattered to you more than anyone in the world. 
after the first year, she began abandoning izuku and ignoring his emotions towards her. after she and bakugou found each other, they had already known they would settle with one another. 
you and izuku had never been close, but you were both good friends and were there when you needed one another. 
he had walked you through your pain of senior year, and you’d helped him reach a lot of his goals, too. but bakugou just didn’t seem to care anymore. not even about becoming the number one hero. he looked at uraraka like she was his goal, his new dream, the reason he was happy. he looked at her and saw that he had the world in his hands and wanted to keep it that way. 
you? you were pluto. exiled from the rest of the planets. exiled from the rest of his options, when you used to be his first. 
“y/n?”
you and izuku backed away from each other. you’d both been crying for quite a bit. how long it had been, you were both unsure. 
uraraka now stood at the door. you peeked into the window, leaning back a bit and catching glances of the blonde, who was currently being clapped on the back by his friends, congratulated for ‘getting the girl’. 
“are you guys okay?’ uraraka asked. 
“would you cry, uraraka?” 
she tilted her head. “what?” 
you pushed yourself off of izuku. “do you think you’d cry if you saw me kissing him, too?” 
“what’re you―” 
“you would cry, too! you would be sobbing!” you stabbed an accusatory finger at her. “you were my friend! you knew how i felt, and you’re kissing him?” 
uraraka’s eyes widened. “i...i’m sorry. it all just happened, and i—”
“shut the hell up, uraraka. you ruined this party. for me and izuku.” 
perhaps you went a bit far, but in your heart and your mind, you knew she deserved it. she knew. uraraka had known. 
izuku gave uraraka a sympathetic look before pressing a hand to your back and leading you away. 
it still came as a bit of a shock that uraraka had let bakugou invite you to their wedding. gosh. little, domestic bakugou, sealing invitations and batting his eyes at his oh-so-sweet wife so he could invite his best friend. 
little domestic uraraka sweetly kissing her fiance on the cheek and pouting as she said, “how can i say no?” 
it was disgusting, and everything you wanted to have with him. 
you allowed yourself to be selfish this one time. after all, you deserved it. you’d endured hours of bakugou blabbering on about how sweet uraraka was. everything you weren’t. 
you took the bottle to champagne. your ankles were aching as you stumbled out of the room. your vision blurred, becoming foggy with tears. not one person stopped you. you guessed because nobody noticed. 
like graduation night, you slumped down right outside the doors to the party, the music, lights, and laughter muffled. the only difference was that you had a bottle of champagne and the man of your dreams was gone. for good, this time. 
-
“i wish she noticed me. it was like, after first year, the uraraka i knew just vanished.” 
you nodded. you and midoriya were wandering the streets, cool air brushing down your neck and on your face as cars passed. 
“uraraka was so sweet, but she lost feelings so fast and...ugh.” midoriya ran a hand through his hair, ruffling his curls. “i’m still a bit...baffled. i know people change, but she and kacchan both switched up so fast.” 
“i don’t want to say they’re jackasses, but they’re kind of jackasses.” 
izuku rubbed your shoulder as you leaned on him while the two of you walked. “don’t say that.” 
“sorry,” you breathed. 
“no more being sorry. being sorry all the time leads to shit like this.” 
you chuckled. “yeah, it does.” you sniffed. “did i take you away from the party? you can go back if you want.” 
he shrugged. “’s all right. i don’t mind.” 
“do you want to be here or would you rather be in there?”
“out here with you. i can’t be there right now.” 
“me too.” 
“let me guess.” 
you looked up and scoffed softly. 
“this was supposed to be your party?” 
you nodded. “my party, my groom. i’m not supposed to be crying at my party, am i?” 
your friend shook his head. “not at all. cheer up, y/n.” 
izuku slid down the wall, sitting beside you. he rested his arms on his knees, twisting open his own bottle of champagne. “you look like a mess.”
“and you look like you need anger management.” you smiled. 
he grinned back. “do i now?” 
“yeah, you do. you should have seen yourself sitting there. all alone, the one person drinking something that wasn’t the fifty-thousand yen drinks.” 
“54,795.75 yen, to be exact.” 
you raised an eyebrow. “you’re insane. you kidding me? why do you know that?” 
“i was the weird kid who took notes on everyone in the class. of course i would know this. i’m offended you think i wouldn’t.” 
you tilted your head back in laughter. “gosh, izuku.” 
“mhm.” 
there was a pause. comfortable silence filled the space, broken by you sigh after gulping down your drink. “so they’re gone?” 
“i’d rather not dwell on it.” 
“how old are we now?” 
izuku gave a breathy chuckle. “twenty-five.” 
you smiled. “really, now? and i thought i would be married by now.” 
“me too. ‘s a shame.” 
“how about, if we’re both still not married by the time we’re forty, we get married to each other, adopt three children and we become hot parents.” 
“three?” 
“yeah, we can have a mini hero agency.” 
“that’s horrifying. but i agree. having a mini hero agency would be pretty amazing.” 
“i’m glad you agree with me, izuku.” you brushed a curl from his eyes. 
“can’t wait until i’m forty,” he smirked. 
“me neither.” 
“maybe by then we would have forgotten all of this?” 
“we’ll be fighting a villain, and we get our memories erased, and then we fall in love because we wake up beside each other in the hospital. we’re both equally confused.” you peppered him with jokes. “it’s a journey we will go on together.” 
“can’t wait until my memory gets erased.” 
“do you wanna get out of here?”
izuku shook his head. “it’s their wedding. we can’t. we shouldn’t.” 
you gave him a silly look. 
“you’re always such trouble, y/n.” 
“if you hate it, then wipe that stupid grin off your face.” 
izuku’s features softened. “maybe i like it. but only sometimes.” he took your head and lead you out, leaving his drink behind while you took yours. 
a single tear rolled down your cheek. he didn’t erase all your pain, nor your feelings for bakugou. it wasn’t what you needed, no. 
you just needed a friend. a real one. one that wouldn’t steal your dream from you. and that’s what you knew you had right now. 
besides, things could happen in the future, right? 
you smiled, and let the cold air touch your skin. 
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leahblackk · 3 years
Note
Hello so for Halloween angst i had two ideas
1. Y/n and spencer have been besties forever and he gets a girlfriend and then the story tells how y/n suffered and then he is getting married and the rest is up to you! (happy ending hopefully)
2. Y/n and Spencer are having an affair bc he's married to Maeve and it's very angsty
Hello! No one of these has happy endings so I gave the second a twist. I would never let Spencer cheat on my girl Maeve.
Warnings: Mentions of affair but nothing actually happened. Please don’t see Maeve as the bad one here, she’s just so amazing.
As Halloween came to the door, Y/n was excited to celebrate with her boyfriend, Spencer Reid. Both of them were fans of the spookiness and the cold breeze of October.
She walked through the streets of DC while a coat held her trying to prevent the cold from freezing her bones, and then she saw a little store of sweets. Y/n excitedly entered the shop sounding the little bell above her head and made her way through the store to then to her apartment.
She softly entered thinking that it only was her. She left her coat and shoes and walked around with her mismatched socks up to her room to eat her sweets and watch some spooky movies, but he heard Spencer talking.
“Yeah, I’m glad we can talk,” he spoke moving around. Y/n stopped from opening the door and coming in and stood up outside with a smile hearing her boyfriends voice, “Oh yeah, I just came in actually,” he spoke again.
She wondered who was the other person in the other line, “No, she’s not here apparently,” he said, and Y/n frowned and Spencer chuckled, “Yeah Maeve, but is a shame we can’t meet.”
She stood frozen. Maeve? Who was Maeve?
Y/n finally open the door and Spencer looked at her with a smile with his phone still on his ear, “I’ll call you later, bye,” he said and put the phone down looking at his girlfriend. She looked gorgeous, “Hi angel,” he greeted.
Y/n didn’t know how to react. She didn’t want to make a scene about it, after all, she didn’t know who Maeve was. But, it hurt her just to think Spencer could fall for someone else. She knew he wasn’t capable of cheating, he just wasn’t like that. But the wonder still remains.
“Hi,” she said with a small smile stepping in and sitting in the bed with the bag.
“What’s that?” Spencer asked trying to make more conversation as he saw his girlfriend weirdly. There was something about it that wasn’t right with her, but he couldn’t figure out what just know.
“Some sweets. I didn’t know you were here so I planned on watching some movies and eating them,” she spoke, her voice almost a whisper looking at her hands as she feared her voice would break.
“What’s wrong, angel?” Spencer asked as he heard her. Getting closer to her, but she didn’t let him, standing up.
“N-nothing. Don’t worry, I’m just really tired. Did you eat anything?” She softly asked looking up at him looking at his concerned eyes.
“Yeah, I did. We all ate after the case. Why? Are you hungry? I can make you something or we can order some take-out, your favourite food,” he asked trying to take care of her. To ease her worries. But that didn’t work.
“No, it’s okay. I’m not hungry, I just wonder. So I have some work to do so I’ll be out there if you need anything. Y-you should rest,” Y/n was out of the room before she heard Spencer’s response and went to the small balcony they had, closing the door and locking it. She turned around while the wind violently moved her hair and left her tears out, looking back from time to time to see if Spencer wasn’t there looking at her.
Spencer wonder what happened for her to act so distant, so worried and the pain in her eyes it really broke him. Was it him? Or something happened when he was away? Or maybe she was falling out of love?
He didn’t know but either way, he was really worried. He needed to talk to her.
Spencer walked to the balcony, where he knew she was, she always work there or when she’s upset. He tried to open the door but then realized it was locked and there it was the confirmation to his doubts; Y/n was definitely upset.
Spencer knocked on the glassed door waiting for her to open it and hopefully she would hear the knocking and she did. She hugged herself while she opened the door, and Spencer felt the cold air when it touched his skin, “Y/n are you out there with this cold and without a cardigan or coat? You’re gonna get sick,” he said taking her arm and letting her step inside. She didn’t say anything, she just gave him her back.
Spencer closed the door and looked at her. He walked to her putting his hands on her cold arms and caressing them, “What’s wrong, angel?” He asked once more, but there was no response.
He put one hand on her waist turning her around, and he saw the tears falling down her cheeks, “Angel,” he whispered voice full of pain to see her in such a state, “What’s wrong? Please please talk to me. I wanna help you,” he pleaded, hugging her, but she didn’t hugged him back. Spencer had to ask now, the question that haunted him, “I wanna know. Did something happen when I was away? A-are you? Um, don’t you love me anymore?” He asked, voice breaking in the process.
She looked up at him with confusion, “What?”
“Yes, you’ve been acting weird since I came home. You didn’t let me touch you or get close to you and it worries me,” he said looking at her trying to read her.
“Spencer if you want to break up with me do it know, seriously. I can’t with this anymore,” now Spencer was confused.
“Why would I break up with you?” Y/n looked down and didn’t say anything, “Angel please talk to me.”
“I-I just,” she sighed, “I don’t want to be jealous or possessive or anything at all, but I’m just worried and when I came home I heard you talking with someone, M-Maeve. And you said it was a shame you couldn’t meet, and that got me thinking that maybe you are the one who fell out of love. And believe me, I-i don’t judge you at all, I just wished you could’ve told me sooner, and if Maeve makes you happy then I’m happy for you,” Spencer’s heart broke.
He couldn’t shake his head fast enough, “No, angel no,” he said trying to make her look at him, “I would never fell out of love with you, in fact, my love for you grows every day with everything of you and I would never want anyone else, let alone cheat on you. Maeve is a doctor, she’s my friend and she had helped me with my migraines and I wanted you to meet her but things are complicated with her right now, and I really appreciate her but, she’s not you,” Spencer spoke. She didn’t look at him, she was ashamed. “look at me, please,” she didn’t follow so Spencer grabbed her face with both hands and put their forehead together, kissing her cheek, “I would never fall out of love with you, angel. No one compares to you, I’m so in love with you, you have me wrapped around your finger and if you want to see me happy as you said before just look at me,” Y/n did, Spencer caressed her cheek giving her a quick pick on the lips, “There she is. The prettiest girl in the world,” he kissed her cheeks and then her lips, taking his time, “My pretty girl,” he repeated between kisses.
“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions,” she whispered. Spencer shook his head.
“You actually acted very maturely. I would’ve begged you not to leave me if I ever heard you talking like that with someone else,” she shook her head.
“I love you,” she spoke.
“Hm, you love me?” She nodded, “Guess what? I love you so much more. More than anything, you know that right?”
“Yes.”
“Good. But I will keep reminding you for the rest of my life if that’s okay with you.”
“Only if you let me do that too.”
“It would be an honour,” he said kissing her while they smiled in the middle of the kiss.
80 notes · View notes
realcube · 4 years
Text
haikyuu!! characters with a chubby! s/o 💗
characters: tsukishima, oikawa, atsumu, osamu & suna
thank you anon for this cute request 🥺
tw// comfort, fluff, angst if you squint, insecure! reader, swearing, they/them reader but reader wears a dress (in osamu’s)
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(a/n): anon requested comfort but i feel bad bc i’m writing this like ‘no, (y/n)! stop being sad! you’re beautiful! 😡’ then i remember that i can just select+delete the pain away💗💖
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Kei Tsukishima
let’s not pretend like tsukki gives a fuck what you look like tbh ✋
like nobody is ‘perfect’ and everyone is insecure (to varying degrees) so why would he care about your weight?
nobody ticks every single box to meet society’s definition of ‘beauty’  
plus, tsukki thought beauty standards were stupid away so he created his own - and you meet every single one 💖
in fact, almost everyone meets his beauty standards - besides himself ‘:)
he seriously doesn’t care about your weight tbh, it’s the most trivial thing so why would he care?
although, he wasn’t naïve enough to think that everyone was like-minded
your front of ‘i don’t care about what other people think of me’ was strong enough to fool even the most observant of poeple, including tsukki
however, tsukishima failed to take into consideration that you were his girlfriend, meaning that you could be playing the same game as him; ‘pretend to not care about superficial things like beauty so nobody will think for a second that you are insecure about your body’
he wasn’t one to give compliments but neither were you tbh so the mutual agreement y’all have of ‘let’s call each other names as a form of endearment to avoid those awkward moments were you are looking for the right words for praise but can’t come up with anything’  was fair
but after you accidentally sent him a self-deprecating ‘joke’ message that was clearly meant for a friend, he never passed up the opportunity to compliment you ever again
like he kinda just stared at the message like 😮 ‘does (y/n) seriously care about their weight? why? it doesn’t even matter. how stupid! who told them that the shape of their body is important? bc it’s not..’
then he turns to look in the mirror like ‘wow you srsly need to put on muscle, lanky bitch. or else (y/n) will probably leave you for some built jackass like kuroo. pick up some weights, noodle arms!’
anyway, he’s not too good with words and comfort in situations like these but he’ll probably reply to your text with something out-of-character and surprisingly sweet
to paraphrase (bc the actual text would probably be like a whole damn persuasive essay LMAO he starts with the introduction, makes five points and finishes with a conclusion pfft) , i think it would be something like: ‘hey, (y/n). ik that text was probably meant for one of your friends (but if they’re the ones making you feel bad about your weight then you should probably drop those toxic cunts anyway 💅✨) but i just wanted to say that even though you are the biggest clown i’ve ever met (/j) you’re still v beautiful 💗 stop being insecure or i’ll pass away ⚰💀 ok thx love you bye’
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Tōru Oikawa
how are you insecure if you’re dating oikawa? /j
like he is such a hypeman
whenever y’all take pics in your ✨fancy outfits ✨ for formal event, he acts as though you are second most beautiful thing on the face of this earth 😍 (second to him ofc)
but he only does that so he can keep up the reputation he has of being effortlessly confident bc he’s scared that if it slips for even a second, everyone will see how truly insecure he is
truthfully, in his eyes, you come first place by miles (❤ ω ❤)
like srsly, you’re so gorgeous in that dress!! he hopes that you know that he is joking about the whole ‘second place’ thing bc you should be able to tell by the way he looks at you that you’re genuinely the most striking person he’s ever laid his eyes on 
you never acted overly confident in front of him but he definitely didn’t think you were as insecure as you are
he thought you were just..humble :)
sometimes he’d hear you mutter something mean about yourself as you passed the mirror but he paid no mind to it as he figured that you just cared about your appearance and wanted to maintain a certain image
however, once he was made aware that you didn’t want to maintain your image but rather, change it - he never let you murmur anything nasty about yourself under your breath ever again, not without proceeding to tackle you to the ground and shower you with his love, affection & praise 💞💕❤
and he never made a ‘second place’ joke ever again, he started his honesty streak by reassuring you that you’ll always be the number one in his eyes 🤩
also, after that, he was a lot more open about his own insecurities with you and you made sure to respect them and help him in a similar way that he did
there is just so much love and admiration between the two of you and at first you were both to shy to express it but now, you both are showering each other in compliments 24/7 bc you both just want the other one to know how perfect you view them as (❁´◡`❁)
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Atsumu Miya
atsumu is a hypeman like oikawa but...better :)
IT’S BC HE HAS NO SHAME
he’ll compliment you on anything you wear and he makes it a point to use the most inappropriate compliment as possible, relative to the outfit you’re wearing
so if you’re wearing your pyjamas, he’ll call you ‘glamourous’
if you are wearing a swimsuit, he’ll call you ‘elegant’
if you’re in your work clothes/school uniform, he’ll call you ‘sexy’
and if you’re in lingerie, he’ll call you ‘adorable’
but it makes you blush so hey, no complaints
so when he finds out that you’re actually insecure about your weight, he’s just like ‘no ❤’
like he hates the idea that when you look in the mirror, you don’t see the god(dess) he sees
like why? it’s the same person
💞 fuck ‘perception’ 💞
💕 ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ TF YOU ARE THE FUCKING BEAUTY💕
grrr he was so mad  
but he was also soft 
he was like ‘if (y/n) insecure? then why hot? then why pretty? then why fit perfectly into my arms?’
plus, THIGHS
he’d never diss a person bc they had small thighs or anything BUT he’d also NEVER complain about being given the chance to be with someone with some good thighs 👍
tbh the best could do to help was compliment you ten times harder to eliMINATE ALL YOUR INSECURIES 
(and ofc i don’t mean that in a way - for example - if you’re insecure about your nose, he’ll fkn chop it off......he won’t chop your nose off LMAO he’ll just show you how much he loves it, to the point where you have no choice but to love it too ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ )
anyway, plz love (or at least, tolerate) yourself or else he’ll suffocate you with all his love and affection :D
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Osamu Miya
osamu is at a loss when it comes to typical beauty standards tbh
to him, weight (and most things) are similar to..hand size, for example
just like how you can’t imagine someone feeling self-conscious about the size of their hand (especially if their hand is a healthy size) 
he can’t imagine why some one would be shamed for their weight (especially if they’re a healthy size)
so had no idea you could possibly be insecure about something like that and he probably on realised after a few years in the relationship 😅
there was a formal event coming up and y’all were going as dates so you wanted to shop for outfits together 
as couples do ✌
anyway, he was on a dress site, scrolling away until you pointed out one that you thought was pretty - and it matched the color of the tie osamu bought too!
it was a fair price (for a formal dress 🙄 which is probably like $68/50) so osamu was like ‘buy it then ( •̀ ω •́ )✧’  bc he thought it would so gorgeous on you 
but you were like ‘no’
and after he pried further, you explained how you thought it wouldn’t ‘suit your body type’ 
GRRR HE dislikes IT WHEN PPL SAY THIS SO MUCH BC HOE YOU DON’T HAVE A BODY TYPE YOU’VE GOT A BODY 😡💕 WEAR THE DAMN DRESS IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL BEAUTIFUL 
but like deadass it’s not your blood type-  it’s just a thing ppl made up to make ppl (mostly women) feel bad about themselves for no reason
but that might just be his inner atsumu talking 🤷‍♂️
he didn’t even know what to say at first- he was just like ????? body type ????
but once he figured out what you meant, he still had no idea what to say- at least, without sounding rude
what if someone came up to you and told you they were insecure about the shape of their knee.......what do you even say???
so he was silent for like the rest of the day
you decided to give him some space just in case something happened which had upset him
he had no idea what to say, in all honesty, so he hoped that his actions spoke louder than words 
around 3 days had passed since you last spoke to osamu and you were beginning to think something you had said made him uncomfortable
you were studying in your room until there was a ring at your door so you rushed downstairs and you opened it to reveal a package sitting on your doormat
you had recently ordered some cleaning equipment so you were sure that the content of the package was probably that
so imagine your surprise when you tear it open to reveal  — you guessed it —  the dress 💕
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Rintarō Suna
when he says that he doesn’t care what ppl look like, he means it
he upkeeps his own appearance though bc..it’s his!
like why would he care about what weight you are? that’s none of his business
as you can tell, he’s generally not shallow but sometimes when y’all are just cuddling and your face is pressed to his chest, the words ‘you’re so cute’ just fall from his lips
so ofc he appreciates compliments over his skills, personality, humour etc over flattery about his appearance 
hence, the praise he gives you is usually based around those things too bc he just thinks that you’re just like him in the fact you don’t appreciate skin-deep comments
so when he found out that you’re actually insecure about your weight (or something else), he kinda blames himself
he thinks that the whole reason you’re not extremely confident in your appearance is all due to him and the fact he fact he maybe didn’t compliment you on your looks enough  — but that’s not to say that he doesn’t think you’re beautiful 
you’re the most radiant person he’s ever laid his eyes on and he thought you knew that regardless of whether he vocalised it or not
he wasn’t really sure what to do tbh
bc he loved you and wanted to comfort you ofc but he was scared of making things worse
like what if something he says accidentally makes you so upset that you break-up with him 😭
but he knew he couldn’t just stay silent about the issue, especially when he wanted to say to much
thus, he sent you a heartfelt message on discord 
(rather than snap, whatsapp etc so he could edit it after he posts it bc knowing him, he’ll probably write something, reread it ten times then as soon as he hits send, he spots a bunch of mistakes)
and he’d explain how you’re simply divine regardless of your insecurity and if anything, it just makes you cuter 😍
ok ok so i really don’t want it so seem like he has a fetish bc HE DOESN’T 
but he think your curves are so fun and pretty ❤ 
like everything about you is pretty but suna just can’t comprehend why you’re insecure about something like your weight when he literally adores it (bc he adores everything about you) 
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robbyswayzekeenes · 4 years
Text
fuck up our friendship━ eli moskowitz imagine
eli moskowitz x fem!reader
set after the party in 2x09, pretty wholesome with admitting feelings but also angst bc the reader is tryna be friends with both eli and demetri and it is NOT going well
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Once the police busted the party, Y/N knew she had to find Eli. The girl was a Miyagi-Do student, and she knew full well that Sam and Robby would not appreciate her going to find her oldest friend and Cobra Kai’s number one asshole, but the pair were having their own issues, so it was unlikely they would find out. Y/N and Eli had been friends since the girl moved to the Valley at the start of freshman year. She wasn’t exactly a loser as someone like Yasmine or Kyler would word it, and many people never understood why she signed away her high school popularity to be friends with the two biggest dorks in school-- Demetri and Eli-- but she wouldn’t have wanted anybody else. Demetri and Eli had been best friends since kindergarten, and the h/c slotted into the group perfectly. They may have had it pretty bad at school, but they had each other.
Then, two years later, at the start of their junior year, karate came back to the Valley. Whilst Y/N and Demetri had always been seemingly content with living their lives as losers, apparently Eli didn’t feel the same. It wasn’t the mohawk or the new name they particularly had a problem with, or his newfound popularity that bothered them. It was the way he went about getting it. Hawk was becoming the very person he had always hated. Both of his best friends knew this wasn’t the person he really was, but when Demetri had addressed this, Eli declared an all out war against him. So now Y/N was left as the middle-man, trying to care for both of her best friends and bring them back together without choosing a side. And neither of them made it easy.
Tonight, at Moon’s party, Y/N had been so hopeful. The two sat talking about Doctor Who whilst the girl stood beside Robby and Sam, sipping her drink and pretending she wasn’t listening in to what Demetri and Eli were talking about. She allowed herself to get distracted for one moment to talk with Robby about skateboarding and suddenly, Eli was pouring his drink all over Demetri’s head. With a shameful sigh, Y/N walked over to the two, handing paper towels to the dark haired boy and raising her eyebrows at Eli. The red haired boy gave her a sheepish, apologetic smile before wandering off to join the other Cobras.
In all fairness, Hawk had it coming when Demetri stood up on that stage with the mic in his hand, but the brown eyed boy didn’t need to take it that far. Watching from where she stood with the other Miyagi-Dos, her e/c eyes flitted between Eli and Demetri. It pained the girl to watch her two best friends fight, but it hurt more knowing she was watching her best friend and the boy she was in love with attempt to tear each other’s heads off. Y/N had developed the biggest crush on Eli in their sophomore year, and everybody knew it except the boy in question. Demetri knew it, too, which was why initially he was so hesitant to launch an attack against his best friend, no matter how much he deserved it. But that night, he hadn’t held back.
Once the cops pulled up outside, everything descended into chaos. Her eyes met with Demetri’s, which were filled with remorse, and he nodded at her. “Go find him. Make sure he’s okay.” Y/N offered the boy a small smile in return. She knew Demetri still cared for Eli, and Eli still cared for Demetri. It was just Hawk who appeared not to. Rushing out the house so as not to get caught by the police, the h/c found Eli walking out the back of the house alone. The rest of the Cobras weren’t around, which reassured Y/N, but only slightly. “Eli!” She called, causing his head to swing around, his blue eyes catching hers. “What do you want? Come to humiliate me even more?” “Eli,’ The girl breathed in response, sounding exasperated as she caught up to him. “You know I wouldn’t do that.” “I didn’t think Demetri would, either,” He responded, allowing Y/N to see how hurt he really was. “And I didn’t think you would attack him when we were at the mall the other day. Or pour beer on his head.” Eli let out a sigh-- he was Eli now he was around Y/N. She was the only person he trusted enough to let his newfound guard down around.
“I’ve told you this before, Y/N,” The red haired boy said with a sigh. “Demetri chose his side. He went against us. Against Cobra Kai.” “I don’t need to hear it again, Eli,” The h/c haired girl huffed. “I’m just here to make sure you’re okay. Cobra Kai or not, you’re my best friend. I care about you, and so does Demetri.” “Whatever,” The boy exhaled, but he still allowed Y/N to walk the rest of the way home with him, and even come in when he opened the door and headed inside. “Mom isn’t home,” Eli spoke, closing the door and flicking off his shoes, “She’s on night shift tonight.” “Good job I’m here then,” Y/N nodded, knowing how much the blue eyed boy hated being alone. Eli didn’t say anything in response, just smiled smally.
Any alcohol consumed at the party that evening had begun to wear off, as Eli and Y/N sat on the couch in the front room. The silence was awkward for the first few moments; it always was now that there was a clear divide pushing the two apart, but both of them more than anything wanted to stay close. As much as Y/N’s crush on Eli was clear as day (to everyone other than him), the boy’s reciprocated feelings were much better hidden, especially with his new Hawk facade. However, Cobra Kai had thrown in the spanner in the works, and any chance the boy may have had with his best friend was seemingly gone. Yet, every few nights the girl would still come over and spend time with Eli, alternating the time she used to spend with both her best friends.
Eventually, the awkwardness faded, and the two would begin to speak about anything and everything they hadn’t caught up on, considering they had spent most of the summer apart at their separate dojos. An hour or so past, taking the time up to midnight, before Eli invited Y/N to stay the night like she had many times before. The h/c hastily agreed, and followed Eli upstairs to his bedroom, yawning quietly due to exhaustion. Once they made it up, her e/c eyes widened. “What the fuck happened in here?” The once blue walls, littered with posters, were now red and bare. A punching bag stood where a fake TARDIS used to be, and there wasn’t a funko pop in sight, which was not at all like Eli Moskowitz. The bedsheets were just plain black, rather than Star Wars themed, but when the h/c craned her neck, there were still small, glow-in-the-dark stars littered across the ceiling. “I redecorated,” Was all Eli said, flopping down on his bed.
Y/N flopped down beside him. “I think I preferred the Doctor Who merch,” The girl admitted honestly, causing Eli to look at her with wide eyes. “Did you know the new Doctor was female?” “Of course,” The h/c smiled, “Me and Demetri still watch every Friday night.” At the mention of this, Eli’s face fell, causing Y/N to frown. “You know he didn’t really want to hurt you tonight,” The girl sighed, attempting to lock eyes with Eli who was staring down at his fidgeting fingers. “It was a shitty thing to do, but you’ve both done shitty things to each other.” She continued her speech, becoming more and more passionate as she spilled her frustration out to Eli: “Do you know how hard it is for me to watch my two best friends fight with each other? Over something as petty as a fucking karate dojo! I know that I can’t stop you two fighting and the best I can do is try and maintain the middle ground, because the last thing I want to do is choose between my best friend and the others at Miyagi-Do, and the boy I’ve had feelings for since forever.”
Y/N’s voice began to fade out as she calmed down, but Eli was still staring at her, seemingly in shock. Noticing how panicked the boy looked, the girl’s face softened. “I’m sorry for yelling, Eli, I-” “You said you had feelings for me.” His voice was deadpan, showing no emotions as his blue eyes bore into Y/N. The girl’s mouth opened and closed in shock. “I- Maybe I said that. Accidentally. Maybe-” “You have feelings for me?” Eli spoke again, and for a second, he sounded like Eli, like the person he was before all this karate shit took over. With a sigh, the girl nodded. “Congratulations. You’re officially the last person to know.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” The boy asked, his eyes wide. “I don’t know,” The girl shrugged. “Guess I didn’t wanna fuck up our friendship, but I guess karate’s doing that for us.” Y/N’s e/c eyes chose to rest on the bed sheets beneath her instead of on Eli as he responded. “Well, what if I want to fuck up our friendship?” At this comment, however, the girl’s eyes shot up, just in time for Eli to place his hand on her chin and placed his lips against hers.
She was shocked at first, but Y/N soon kissed back, placing her hands on the boy’s face to pull him closer. The girl felt him smile into the kiss as he rolled himself closer, wrapping a hand round her waist to draw her in. “I’ll fuck up our friendship a hundred times over if it means I can do that again,” Y/N smiled, resting her forehead against his. Eli kissed her once again, softly, before saying: “For the record, I like you, too. I’m surprised Demetri didn’t tell you.” “That rat!” Y/N exclaimed, though she wasn’t really annoyed. “I’m going to kill him!” “Right now?” Eli asked, quirking his eyebrow with a cocky smirk. “Hm, maybe not,” The girl grinned, biting her lip and pulling the boy closer. “I think I’ll just stay here and kiss you.”
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corpsedaydream · 4 years
Text
crash
so, here i am with a new one shot.
so before anyone asks if i’m gonna be posting frequently again or anything, i process things by writing about them. if something is running through my mind over and over and i can’t think through it on my own in my mind, writing about it generally helps me. this past weekend was supposed to be a fun long weekend away w my friends but it quickly ended when i experienced something pretty traumatic. i haven’t been able to sleep at all the past couple nights and so i started working on this. originally it was just going to be something private to help myself w the panic i was feeling then i started adding a muse into it and then i realised i was still writing about corpse without even meaning to, so i guess he’s still got me feeling musey.
anyway, i thought about keeping this private bc i’m still rly shaken up about what happened but idk feels like a shame to just let it sit on my computer.
idk if i’m back to this blog yet, i still feel indifferent about it. i’m signed out on my phone and was signed out on my laptop until just now and haven’t opened my inbox.
anyway. here’s the one shot.
word count: 1666 words (i’m not kidding)
trigger warning: car crash, panic attack
__________________________________________________
crash
Wake up. Wake up. Wake up wake up wake up.
The words repeated over and over in your head. You’d had dreams about crashing your car before, but usually you woke up just before the point of impact. This time you didn’t.
This couldn’t of happened, this can’t be real, this is a a dream, I’ve got to wake up.
But you were already very much awake, this was very much real.
The colour had already drained from your face, tears were welling up in your eyes and your heart had already sunk. Your hands were trembling, your chest was completely still, you weren’t breathing in that moment. Your body had reacted before your mind had completely caught up.
“Fuck.” Was all you managed to say as realisation had hit you. You’d gotten into a car crash.
You looked around you, wondering how the others cars on the road were still moving when it felt like your world had just come to a stop when your car had its collision. You heard your dad’s voice in your head, all the things he’d told you when he taught you how to drive, had - god forbid - you ever ended up in a situation like this.
You went through the motions as well as you could. You were in a state of shock and physically, you were definitely there, but mentally, you really weren’t present. You were having an out of body feeling in the most terrifying way, it was a defence from the panic that had overwhelmed you.
-
Corpse felt a surge of anxiety. He had no idea why, either. All he was doing was looking through fan art on twitter, he hadn’t seen anything that usually would make him feel like that. It just throttled its way into himself seemingly out of no where.
It was especially odd seeing that today had been such a good day. Waking up beside was usually something that put him in a good head space.
So he started to call you, you always made him feel better. But then he remembered you were driving and you were a cautious driver, you never answered your phone when you were behind the wheel. You’d told him in the past how tenacious your dad had been as a driving teacher and it had really stuck with you.
Just as he was about to hang up, knowing you weren’t going to answer, you did.
“Hello?” Something was off. Corpse heard it right away in just that one greeting from you.
“Are you okay?” He didn’t even greet you back, he already had anxiety running through him and the unsettling tone of your answer of the phone had only made it increase.
“I think so.” You were so monotoned. Corpse had never heard you speak this way. You were a lot of things, but monotone was not one. You were expressive, bright and dramatic.
“You think so?” He repeated in a questioning way, wanting to know what was wrong.
“Yeah.” You responded so plainly again. Corpse almost wanted to ask you who was he speaking to right now, because surely this couldn’t have been you. This person had your voice, but this was a person he did not know right now.
“What’s going on?”
“I crashed my car.” You said it to him so simply. There was no emotion behind it. His heart thundered as if a terrible hail storm had just broken out. 
“What?!” 
“I crashed my car.” You repeated. Once again so eerily unemotional.
“Where are you?!”
-
Corpse shouldn’t have been driving in the state he was in, but he needed to get to you. His emotions were running so high and he couldn’t comprehend why yours weren’t.
After what felt like the longest drive of his life, he reached the crash site. His panic peaked when he spotted the ambulance, immediately thinking the worst. But then he saw you standing to the side of it. You were up and talking to the paramedics, that was at least a good sign you weren’t seriously injured.
“(Y/N),” He called for you as he got out of his own car. And just like your voice on the phone, your movements were so robotic.
You were normally so open with your emotions, you were such a readable and honest person. When you were happy, you shined, when you were mad, you yelled red, when you were sad, you cried oceans. But Corpse had never seen you in a true state of shock. He’d never seen your fight or flight response. And apparently it was a stillness and unresponsive, the complete opposite to how you were normally.
“Are you okay?” He knew you probably weren’t, but he couldn’t find any clue to how you were feeling. Until his footsteps brought him closer to you.
You didn’t respond to him at all. Even words felt like too much right now. As he neared you, though, he spotted the signs of fear your body displayed that your words did not. Your hands and arms were trembling, your shoulders were slumped, your face was completely pale, sweat dotted all over your forehead despite it not being a hot day, tears were slowly spilling from your eyes one by one, your chest was moving unevenly as you struggled to breathe properly.
“Baby, c’mere.” Corpse didn’t hesitate to gather you in his arms. Holding you so tenderly against him. That’s when he felt that it was more than just your arms and hands that were trembling, your entire body had a slight shake to it. He knew you were experiencing true terror in that moment.
-
The time between your banged up car getting placed onto a tow truck and arriving back at your apartment felt like a blur.
You’d just gotten off the phone with your insurance provider when you’d heard Corpse.
“Are you in any pain?”
"What?” You’d heard him perfectly but you hadn’t once thought about how this had affected you physically.
“Are you in any pain?” He repeated himself.
“I’m not sure.” And you weren’t, but the paramedics had said that adrenaline would be coursing through you right now and adrenaline was the biggest distraction from pain. “I’m gonna go have a shower.”
“Okay.” Corpse watched you with concerned eyes until you disappeared behind your bathroom door. He so badly wanted to help, wanted to make you feel better, break you out of this state you were in that he was so not used to.
-
You didn’t know how much time you’d spent in the shower. But it was long enough that the sky had grown darker and the moon had replaced the sun by the time you emerged. Once you’d gotten dressed, you made slow steps towards your bedroom. Your hands were trembling more violently than before and your breathing was speeding up.
The shock was finally wearing off and reality was getting ready to slap you hard across the face.
“Corpse...” Your voice was so silent, almost as if you couldn’t form a word due to the air that seemed harder and harder to breathe as a panic attack started to take control of you.
Corpse might not have even heard you had he not been on such high alert for you right now. But he was, and so he did he hear you and when he saw the state you were in, he instantly got up from his spot on your bed where he was waiting for you and was wrapping you up tight.
You were hyperventilating so dangerously, your heart felt like it was being encased in treacherous clouds that tightened with every intake of air you struggled to get.
You couldn’t remember the last time you had cried this way. You were breaking down.
Corpse was completely holding you up. Had it not been for him, you would be a crumbled heap on the floor.
-
The both of you didn’t sleep that night.
Every time you were close to drifting off, the crash would replay in your mind on an insufferable loop and you would jolt awake and the panic would restart all over.
And every time, Corpse was right there to hold you through it. He didn’t sleep due to how concerned he was about you.
-
The next day was a little easier mentally, but a lot harder physically. You’d gotten so much emotion out the night before that now the pain could have your attention.
Everything from your hips up felt sore, stiff and tense. Every time you moved your neck was scary because it felt like it was about to snap. But worst of all was your chest. It was hard and painful to breathe. The paramedics had warned you about this. The impact to your chest was going to take the longest to recover from. You kept your breathing shallow, any other kind of breathing made you wince and Corpse noticed.
“You’re hurting.” It wasn’t a question, he was stating what he noticed. He’d known the signs of someone in pain. Plus he had also taken note of the bruises that had appeared on your skin, the colouring of them looking like a painting of a galaxy, all purple and blue. 
“A little bit.”
“Mhm.” He knew it was more than a little bit, but he wasn’t about to argue with you. He looked over you laying beside him, grateful that you were still here, you were alive. A car could be replaced, but you could not.
You were flat on your back because that was really only the current position that felt even the tiniest bit comfortable right now. Corpse was on his side, one of his hands supporting his head as he leaned over you. His other hand began to soothingly run his fingers through your hair and you let your eyes flutter close at the touch.
“Tired?”
“Yeah.” You mumbled back, keeping your eyes shut and feeling exhaustion take over you.
“Try sleeping, baby. I’ll be right here.”
639 notes · View notes
shingia · 4 years
Note
Heya. I know this is very angsty of a request, but I saw the fic of characters reacting to their s/o who [tw] relapsed into self harm and was wondering if you would do some for asahi, ushijima, and oikawa?
[𝐓𝐖] 𝐒/𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐩𝐭.𝟐
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hi ! ofc you can honey <3 i hope these will bring you as much comfort as you need, and plz don’t hesitate to dm me if you need to talk to someone, or to reach out for help in any way. here’s a hug for you bcs you deserve it, love you 💗 
also im sorry but i really couldn’t imagine asahi ever arguing with his s/o so i didn’t include this in his fic (he really is too precious)
warnings : mentions of self harm, one mention of blood, some self-depreciating thoughts. please do not read if any of these might trigger something, stay safe everyone <3
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➾ 𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐡𝐢
asahi trusted you blindly. and everyday, he had to make an effort to persuade himself that you trusted him in return. you did of course, how could you not trust the one that had helped you through so much ?
but this wasn’t about trust ; it was about shame. because the last thing you wanted was to find in his eyes the anguish and fear as they were a few months ago. you couldn’t do that to him, yet you kept doing that to yourself.
however, you had the misfortune - which was more of a blessing really - to have a very observant boyfriend who cared about you. and he cared enough to gather the courage to finally ask you about what he had hoped you’d come to him for. sat next to you on the couch, he took the plunge. 
« do you… do you remember when you promised to always come to me if you needed help ? ». there, he had said it. and from the way that his arm tightened encouragingly around your waist, you understood what he meant by this innocent question. he kept speaking : « you know i trust you, right ? i really do. but something tells me that maybe you forgot about this promise recently ».
each of his words was carefully chosen, more than usual. because even if he didn’t show you, he was terrified of messing up. the fact that you were reluctant to answer was enough for him to understand that he had guessed right. but what confirmed it was the single tear that slowly streamed down your cheek.
« oh angel, no, come here. come, you’re ok now… » he spoke in a tone that was more comforting that anything you had ever heard. his arms were wide open for you to snuggle in, and when they wrapped around you, his words replayed once again in your head. i’m ok now, i’m ok now… you repeated internally. and you were, asahi was a man of his words after all.
« i’m sorry for being weak » you finally said after a few seconds of silence, voice half-muffled by his embrace. his warm fingers traced the outline of your face, encouraging you to look up to him. not because he needed to see your face, he already knew it by heart, but because you needed to see his. « weak ? y-you’re the furthest thing from weak. how can i even put it..? you are one of the strongest person i know, and i wouldn’t be half the man i am today if it weren’t for you. 
you wanted to thank him, but exhaustion took hold of your body before any word could leave your tight throat. and when you woke up - two hours later according to the clock - asahi was still there, holding you tight against his heart like a promise to never let go of you anymore.
➾ 𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐚
ushijima hated to waste time and energy on ‘petty fights’, as he liked to call them. but it was really frustrating to always feel like he avoided confrontation ; arguments were necessary in a relationship, and he didn’t seem to understand that.
whenever you got into fights, you were always the only one to get angry, which never failed to make you feel guilty afterwards. and eventually, this feeling of guilt started to become permanent, taking so much place in your brain that you had to sacrifice a part of the self-confidence you had built up the past months. but you didn’t know how much longer you could conceal it.
tonight was the first time you were sleeping together since your most recent fight, the one that had damaged you so badly. and you couldn’t lie, feeling his warmth next to you after about three days spent ignoring him almost felt like a reward. but a reward for what ? you were certainly not proud of what you had done, and you were terrified at the thought that he’d ever notice it. but unfortunately, your efforts to pretend like everything was ok were put to an end in the middle of the night, at about 3 am. something silly, really : ushijima had just turned around in his sleep, and his shoulder accidentally weighed on your wrist, making you hiss in pain. he immediately opened his eyes at the sound, his hand immediately finding its way to your side - he was always a light sleeper with you.
« are you ok ? » he asked, propping himself on an elbow, barely distinguishing your silhouette in the dark. « yeah, just my wrist. come on, let’s go back to sl- ». oh… that wasn’t supposed to be said out loud. it was hard to gauge his reaction since you could not properly see his face, but since he sat on the bed as soon as you interrupted yourself, you understood that it had not fallen on deaf ears. « are you comfortable with me turning on the lights ? » he asked, obvious concern in his voice. saying yes was tempting, because you knew this was a serious matter, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let him see you like this, vulnerable and ashamed.
ushijima accepted it of course, he knew he was not the best with words, so the least he could do was to make sure you were comfortable with whatever he decided to do. « is it ok if i hold you ? » he asked once again, his tone a bit more hesitant. the muscles in your jaw tensed at his words, it was more than ok, or at least you wanted to give it a try, but the worry you had caused him was bringing you back to the familiar feeling of guilt.
however, when he carefully made you rest on top of him like he had always done, something inside you felt healed to know that whatever you were going through did not impact every aspect of your life. his embrace felt the same, so did his heaving chest that rocked your body to sleep every night. surprisingly enough, you did not shed a tear. because the comfort finally felt stronger than the pain, you refused to let anything trouble this moment.
« are you ready to talk about it ? » he questioned, his voice rumbling like a soothing storm in his chest « or do you prefer to wait until tomorrow ? ».
ushijima might have avoided many discussions with you, but this one ? he simply refused to. and if he was more than ready to help you overcome your pain, he also knew not to pressure you into talking. words would come, eventually. but actions were always first.
➾ 𝐨𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚
despite his usually confident behavior, oikawa knew he had a tendency to second-guess each and every one of his actions, and to beat himself up quite often.
he could not remember the last time he had felt so utterly disgusted by himself, he was usually more careful with his words. but all it took was one angry outburst from him for you to withdraw into yourself - and he had to fix this as soon as possible.
luckily for him, your relationship was strong enough not to be too affected by this argument - which had not been your first, but definitely the biggest one. however, you had been affected. a lot actually. but you knew better than to talk to him about this, knowing that he would obviously take the blame for your relapse.
but oikawa was attentive, and, clever as he was, it did not take long for him to guess what you were going through when he saw the red-stained tissues in the bathroom trash. it had been two weeks since your fight, and just the thought that he had left you alone with your struggles for so long made him want to throw up.
without wasting any more second, he burst out of the bathroom and made his way to the living room where you were absent-mindedly watching a movie. he would have preferred to have a discussion with you with a clear head, but the sight of the tissues kept spiraling in his head and he was incapable of doing anything else but to pull you in for a hug whose suddenness made you gasp.
oikawa’s hugs were usually soft, with little kisses here and there and a few compliments chuckled in your ear. but today had nothing to do with those. his arms were engulfing your figure in a desperate need to feel you against him, like he was trying to make up for all the time he had left you alone. « i’m so sorry, so sorry baby… can you forgive me ? » he breathed out, his voice cracking with emotion. obviously you knew what he was referring to, how could you not know ? and just like him, the thousand words on your mind only transcribed in your arms wrapping around him, closing the last few millimeters that separated you as you frantically nodded your head yes. 
you did not think he had anything to be forgiven for, and sadly, you also knew that he would continue to blame himself no matter what your answer had been. that was actually your biggest motivation to begin your recovery journey. oikawa needed to know that, from now on, you’d turn to him instead of your old habits. and you wanted nothing more than to make him happy, so, since his happiness seemed to depend on yours, it could be considered a package deal towards a better future, together.
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before you leave, here are links to two mental health support apps that i hope will help you deal what you are going through right now. i know it’s not much but i’ll be the happiest girl if this helped someone in the tiniest way. take care of yourselves ❤️
Calm Harm - Play Store | App Store
Wysa - Play Store | App Store
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@toworuu @catwithangerissues
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tommybaholland · 4 years
Note
Hiii! May I request something with kuroo, akaashi and character of ur choice with a reader who's too kind to people, even those who treated them very badly?? It could be drabbles, hcs or anything up to you! Thank youu <3
s/o who’s too nice
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featuring: kuroo, akaashi and sugawara
love this request!! you chose my two mains but i added suga bc i hadn’t written anything for him yet :) enjoy!
kuroo 
“wait...who was there?” 
you were currently trying to explain to your boyfriend why you came home so late from hanging out with friends. so far, he didn’t seem too happy that you ended up going to his favorite place and didn’t think to invite him. but the hesitation only grows deeper when you tell him who else was present. 
“okay, so your ex was there. why is that such a big deal that i couldn’t come, hm? did you talk to him?”
the last thing you wanted to do was lie to him. it wasn’t that incriminating; only a small conversation about mundane things. you didn’t want animosity, despite the main demise of that relationship. 
“so you want to be friends with him? babe, i know you don’t want to be on bad terms but i’m not going to be friends with him.”
that didn’t really seem fair to you.
“no, kitten, look. he hurt you! i’m not going to pretend to be friends with a jerk who was not treating you right.”
he was making sense. why were you even trying with someone who left your life long ago? you look down, ashamed of how you’ve upset the current, and seemingly everlasting, love of your life. 
he senses your shame and frowns before gesturing you over to him. “c’mere, sweetie.”
you find your way over and into his arms, holding you close. you buried your face into his black tshirt as you apologized. you felt the vibration of his chest as he responded.
“it’s okay, babe. i just don’t like seeing you upset, especially over another guy.”
he pulls away a little to look you directly in the eyes. 
“i’m sorry that i can be overprotective but...no one does that to my girl.” 
you nod and give him a small grin, which he returns. 
“okay,” he replies before pulling you back into a hug, stroking your hair and rubbing your back. “thanks for telling me, kitten. i love you so much.”
you smile into his chest as you return the sentiment, feeling him press a kiss to your head.
“now gimme a kiss. c’mon, gimme...give—”
you giggle as you slightly tease him by dodging his lips, before you finally allow him to catch the sides of your head and press his lips against yours. 
“there we go. thank you, sweet stuff.”
the look he gives you after he kisses you is something you could never give up.  
akaashi 
you took what felt like your millionth sip of water, suppressing the feeling of having to pee and hopelessly trying to stay awake. you had your laptop out in bed with the brightness turned down so you wouldn’t wake the sleepy boy next to you. unfortunately, akaashi was always keeping tabs on you, even while half-asleep. 
“baby?” he spoke, voice raspy. “are you still awake?” 
you squint your eyes away from the blue light to look over and down to him as he was moving closer to you. it would probably be a few more minutes. 
he sits up and gets a closer look at your face with frowned features. “aw, baby. look at your bags..aren’t you tired?”
you hesitate but can’t lie. you were trying to work through assignments but one group project was proving to take up more of your time than anything else. you had taken on one or two more responsibilities than your group members but you said you didn’t mind and would get it done diligently. akaashi peeks over to look at your screen, observing what was withholding you from sleep. 
“you’re not still working on that project, are you?” 
it’s obvious it wasn’t done yet.
“baby..you need to sleep. you’re overworking yourself.” 
you rubbed your hands over your strained eyes and sighed. you felt like you had been working on it forever and it still seemed like there was no end in sight. maybe he was right. his arm draped around you, pulling you into his side as his other hand reached up to brushed some loose hairs behind your ear. 
“you’re so, so hard working but..it’s okay to say no. you have other things going on too and there’s no reason why you should have to do all this by yourself.” 
you were too tired to even protest at this point, letting him continue to make his case.
“but i also know that you’ll get it done. you always do,” he spoke within close proximity, his voice vibrating right into your ear. “baby, pleaseeeeeeee.”
you were barely able to keep your head up, eyes drooping lower and lower as his hand rubbed your shoulder. you surrendered, giving him a small nod. 
“good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to your temple. “let’s save this and close the laptop.”
he shut the device and moved it off your lap and onto the bedside table for you. he then slid back down under the covers, pulling you into his arms. his thumb brushed against your cheek. 
“you look so stressed, baby. can i..help you take your mind off of it?”
his pretty cobalt eyes still shined through the darkness. he was a bad influence; you couldn’t say no to him. but your eyes rested as his lips breathed life into you, lazily moving with yours. 
“just relax, bebe. i got you.”
sugawara 
“hey, sugar,” your sweet boy welcomed you home from work with a nice hug. “how was your day?” 
it was okay. but you were drained, both physically and mentally. 
“hey, you okay? is something wrong?” he asked, running a hand from the top of your head down through your hair. 
“i dunno. you just seem quiet...and down about something.” he continues to pet your head while keeping you close to his body. you could almost fall asleep in his arms.  
“here, let’s go sit on the couch, sweetheart. come, come.”
he guides you over and pulls you back into his side once you’re settled, encouraging your head to rest on his shoulder. 
“i’m making dinner now but we can talk while it’s cooking,” he explains. “i know you’re tired, sugar. but i’m here now, and you can tell me whenever you’re ready.”
it had been a long day. you woke up late and were a few minutes late to class which subsequently led to you being chastised. even after apologizing profusely, you couldn’t find the courage to defend yourself. that feeling hung over your head almost the rest of the day. then you had to go to work and by that point your head was so empty that those three hours lasted forever. 
“so you’re never late and the one time you are, they yelled at you?”
as if a dam had broke, the tears began to fall.
 “oh sweetie, it’s okay. it’s over now and i’ve got you. shh,” he hushes as he rubs a soothing hand up and down your back. 
“you’re trying your best and i admire you so much for that. but please babe, don’t let them treat you like that again. i don’t wanna see my princess so upset.” 
you knew you had trouble standing up for yourself and couldn’t help to take the blame, even when something wasn’t entirely or at all your fault. it breaks his heart to see your struggle so he tries to be there for you as much as possible, hoping to relieve any invisible pain. it’s hard and you can’t help but have a huge crying fit after holding everything in all day. 
“i know it’s painful, sweetheart,” he wipes some tears from your cheeks. “but you’re going to be okay. and don’t think that you’re bothering me because you’re not. i love you, so much. you’re allowed to hurt. but i want to see you happy and that you’re heard. please don’t blame yourself.”
you hug him tight and tell him you love him. you really lucked out. what would you do without him? 
“so, how about,” he pulls back slightly to look at you, brushing hair out of your face. “we eat and then we can do whatever makes you feel relaxed. i can give you a back rub or we can just cuddle on the couch; whatever you want, sugar. sound good?”
you let your lips curl up into a smile, nodding in response. 
“aw, there’s that beautiful smile.”
he leans down to give you a slow but passionate kiss, letting everything melt away. 
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yooooo its haikyuu night! requests are always welcome
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shoutoismybaby · 4 years
Text
Omega Shame Part 2
Part 1 / Part 3
Thank you guys for all your interest! It made me super happy to see so many people excited about my writing, so I hope you enjoy and stay tuned for the last part soon!
Warnings: Angst, depression, mentions of fighting (bc hero training)
***
The classroom didn't smell right.  Not only was your serotonin inducing scent the class had gotten accustomed to in the past couple months missing, but a certain caramel smell had a hint of burnt rubber and ash to it. Despite some of the girls hearing commotion coming from your room, you didn’t answer their calls or knocks, so no one knew what was going on. The only knowledge the class had was that you weren’t in class and Bakugou was upset. Well, more upset than he usually was.
Even his best friends, whether or not he would admit that’s what they were to him, would earn growls and bared teeth if they got too close. Other than that though, Bakugou was generally unresponsive. Only caring when people got too close, but he didn’t respond when Aizawa called on him, or when the lunch bell rang. Only shoving the teachers hand off his shoulder when he came to check up on the blond.
Bakugou was just too caught up in his thoughts to really be aware of his surroundings as he followed his class aimlessly to the cafeteria.
Even though his body was in the P.E Training grounds, his brain was back in time to your dorm room. Back when your body began to tremble at the sight of him, the way salty tears rushed from your eyes when he started to speak. Your throat squeaking as you begged him to spare the nest you had constructed. It was beautifully made, if you had asked him. The way your soft blankets were woven together with your favorite weekend clothes, pillows being used to stable the walls. It looked incredibly comfortable.
Bakugou knew that Omegas could get upset if their nest was intruded without permission. But he also knew he was nowhere near your circular haven. Yet, you were crying, shaking, and begging.
It was then that it dawned on the hothead that you were scared of him. His omega was Terrified of him. It made his heart beat erratically, how could he make someone he cared about so scared of him? Especially his own omega. It was his job to keep you safe, to take care of you and make sure you were comfortable. You trusted him to fulfill this role, but you thought he was going to destroy your nest?
It made Bakugous’ buzz in confusion. It made no sense that you would be freaking out just because your alpha walked in your room.
Unless you weren't even his omega by choice. What if you just accepted his courting gift because you were afraid he would hurt you? He had been told multiple times throughout his life that he needed to stop being so aggressive,  that he would scare omegas away, but he had always brushed those comments off. He had thought that he would find someone who liked him despite his anger, and he thought you were that person.
Clearly, though, you were too fearful of him to even reject his proposal. Your trembling body inside of your nest was undeniable proof of that. You were too scared to even tell him you were nesting, and if the sight was evidence enough you didn’t seem to have or want his scent anywhere close to your nest. He should have noticed it before. What kind of alpha scared those they were supposed to protect?
You probably just got off of your meds to make him happy too. You had made so many sacrifices to keep him happy, and the thought of that made his blood boil. He had been a terrible alpha to you. He had to end this, he couldn’t put you through anymore pain. His inner alpha cried at the thought of having hurt you.
His large hand moved towards his opposite wrist, gently shimmying the bracelet that sat on it off. It was your courting gift to him, since you insisted on making him something in return. It was simple, made of skillfully twisted threads in his hero costume colors. His heart had skipped a beat the moment you presented it to him, not that he would tell anyone that. Especially not now, not when all the memories he shared with you were put into perspective.
He remembered how it felt as though the threads burnt his skin on its way past. How it dragged his heart down with it as it fell to the floor. Since then, he felt numb to the outside world. It didn’t matter how many times Kirishima tried to get him involved in their 1-1 match, he mostly just stood there, letting his instincts do the bare minimum to protect his body.
“Come on man!” His body dodged another hit just enough before slacking again, causing the redheaded alpha to growl. “You’re not responding to anything and you smell, honestly bad bro. What’s going on with you!?”
The only thing “going on” in Katsuki’s brain was replaying the pain in your eyes over and over. Replaying how you were scared, no, terrified of the person who was supposed to protect you. His omega wasn’t his omega anymore, and his alpha felt broken. He felt alone.
He could only focus on how he failed to do his basic duties. How he failed you. Everyone had been right when they critiqued his anger. He was too aggressive to deserve an Omega. Clearly he couldn’t treat one right no matter how much their smile made serotonin speed through his brain. If he couldn’t protect you from himself it was ridiculous to think he would do anything but fuck up protecting Japan from villains. He was a terrible alpha who couldn’t even treat an Omega properly, so what was the point? He wasn’t even good at his innate purpose.
By now Kirishima was getting desperate. All day his best friend had been growing more and more despondent, and he was scared for what that meant. He just needed Bakugou to talk to him, Kirishima wanted to be reassured that he was okay. And he had an idea of how to pull Bakugou back into the present, even if he didn’t like it.
“I don’t want to do this but, I’m really worried about you. Bakugou is this about (Y/n)?” The blondes alpha perked up at the mention of your name, drawing Bakugou’s head up with it.
“The girls said something happened in (Y/n)’s room last night and,” He hesitated, ruby eyes falling to Bakugou's large wrists. “You’re not wearing the courting bracelet she made for you anymore”
His words caused a whimper to leave Katsukis throat. Kirishima had no idea what kind of pain that reminder brought to Bakugou, but he could guess. The way the blonds hands clenched and brows furrowed made Kirishima's heart drop, he hated bringing up things that could hurt Katsuki. But he could only fix the problem if he knew what was wrong, and for that he needed Bakugou to talk to him.
“Did, did you guys break up?” Kirishima kept his distance, afraid of what Bakugou would do once he snapped out of his trance. But all Bakugou did was begin to shake, blinking furiously as he became aware of his surroundings once again along with the hot tears that flooded his eyes. Kirishima ran towards his friend then, placing a hand on the other alphas shoulder in a hope to be any bit comforting without overwhelming his friend. He analyzed the way Bakugous nose scrunched, causing his large canines to show as the first sob burst out of his trembling frame. It was so powerful that the blond lost his balance, falling into the stunned redheads arms. Face tucked into his friends chest, shielded from the attention his sobs were bringing from his entire class.
“Bakugou…” Kirishima ran his hands up and down Bakugous back gently feeling the way the blond fisted his shirt in desperation, “What happened? You can tell me.”
“I’m a terrible alpha,” Bakugous voice was shaky and Kirishima almost felt guilty at how relieved he was to hear it. “No you’re not man, wha-” “Yes I am!” Bakugous voice reached the same volume as his sobs that interrupted his speech. “She thought that I was going to destroy her nest, she was scared of me. I was supposed to defend her when really I’m the one she wanted protection from.”
Krishima didn’t know how to respond to what his friend said. Eyes too wide in confusion as he looked towards his teacher for answers. You had always been absolutely smitten with Bakugou, just his presence in the room made it seem like you radiated love and positivity. It didn’t seem that Bakugou needed any further encouragement to continue though, as his next statement sent ice down the spines of the whole class.
“I failed as an alpha… I don’t want to be alive anymore.” All Bakugou wanted to do in that moment was curl up and die. He didn’t have a purpose anymore, so he didn’t see the point of existing. It was then that his body seemed to shut back down in order to conserve energy, he began to slack in Kirishima's arms leaving him sitting on the ground despite the redheads' many protests. The revelation of how his best friend felt bringing tears to his own eyes, and a recognition to his teachers.
“Aizawa, what's happening to Bakugou?” Kirishima asked, struggling to hold himself together as he knelt in front of his friend. Bakugou’s eyes seemed more void of life than ever as he stared aimlessly at Kirishima's shirt.
“Someone call Recovery Girl, I fear that Bakugou has developed an Alpha depression.”
***
Tag List:
@pasteldana-blog @fandomtrash1616 @cyntinaaa @my-neighbor-todoro @anime-weeb-bnha @professionalreblogs @thenerdyrebel @weeb-reading-trash @procrastinatingmurder @myherotrashbin @spicyfoodboi @tspice283 @inumorph @rubyreds-stuff @mscarterakaviola98 @arcticsakura
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ppersonna · 4 years
Text
tempestuous - kth | m
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tem·pes·tu·ous - adjective - characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion
↳ summary- There’s no one who riles you up more than Kim Taehyung, your best friend’s brother.  He knows exactly how to make you fly off the handle.
↳ rating- explicit / 18+
↳ word count- 6.8k
↳ pairing- taehyung x reader
↳ genre- smut, minor angst i guess in the form of fighting, this is one big pile of smut, there’s some fluff too
↳ warnings- yikes where to begin.  angry sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don’t be like dis), slapping, spanking, pain kink, dom/sub elements, facefucking, really rough sex, finger sucking, derogatory names, uhhh name calling, hate sex, tae is fuckin nasty yall im thriving
↳ a/n- I HAD TO REUPLOAD bc tumblr sucks lol well folks. here we are.  i was given a prompt by @ladyartemesia​ so i blame her.  as for tae, he really came for me this week and completely wrecked me, love that for me. i really popped off here and it’s only edited by me so i’m SORRY if there’s a lot of mistakes.  fun fact i actually wrote almost 10k of another version of this but it frustrated me so badly i scrapped it lmao  🤡 HERE WE GO! Enjoy!  feel free to send in your requests and i promise to try and get it done for you! 
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Kim Taehyung could only be described in a few words.
Infuriating, bothersome, vexing.
Gorgeous, breathtaking, suave.
Absolutely, inherently maddening.
And you hate how much you absolutely melt underneath his gaze, the way your heart leaps into your throat with a single word.  Your body, the ultimate betrayer, opens up to him as your brain screams to abort, reverse, go back to start and do not pass go.
Kim Taehyung is not just the bane of your existence, no.  He’s the little brother of your best friend, Kim Namjoon.   Joonie had been in your life since you were in first grade and he in second.  Taehyung was your age, but you hit it off with the older boy and haven’t separated since.  Your mothers joked that you would get married one day and continue on the Kim line.  Until they found out that Namjoon was 1) bisexual and 2) hopelessly in love with, ironically, a man named Kim Seokjin.   He reasoned to his parents that they would at least carry on the Kim name.  
Where Namjoon was sweet, caring, and deeply compassionate towards you, Taehyung was his alter.  Taehyung was brash, cocky and relished in watching you squirm, whether it be out of fury or the god forsaken sexual tension.  All growing up, he was the one to pull your pigtails, trip you into puddles of mud, and tease you in front of your friends. Namjoon, ever the faithful companion, was always there to pick up the pieces of what Taehyung broke.
It’s been that way with Taehyung ever since. A constant tug of war with each other, both unwilling to give a single inch to the opponent.  
Your relationship with Namjoon remained steadfast as ever.  Namjoon eventually moved in with his now-husband, Seokjin, who easily settled into your life as an additional partner in crime.  You spent most of your days and nights settled into the couch, snuggled somehow in between or next to one of the two men you cherished most.  You had the two best friends you could ask for and a happy life, blissfully Taehyung-free.
Until it wasn’t.
A loud knock wakes you from an unexpected nap on Namjoon’s couch.  Your eyes crack open against the glare of the sunlight streaming through the windows.  It takes a moment to gather your surroundings.  You recognize that you’re in Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, and judging by the silence, you’re definitely alone there.  As you reach for your phone, the screen lights up the time.  5:34 pm.  Well, shit. You remember eating brunch and drinking mimosas at noon with your best friends and then lying on the couch to watch Netflix.  How had you fallen asleep for five hours?  How did you not wake? What the fuck did Jin put in his mimosas?
The knock is insistent again, louder this time.
“Joon! Jin! it’s me! Open up!”
The voice sounds familiar in your sleep-addled mind, but not quite enough to pinpoint it.   You push your limp body off the couch and wince at the feeling of sore muscles.  Couch sleeping isn’t all it’s cracked up to be once you’re past the age of 25.
“Sorry, Namjoon isn’t here-,” You open the door to explain to the guest and you’re cut off.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
You rub at your sleepy eyes and allow your vision to focus, only to feel your blood stand still in your veins.
Kim Taehyung.  Of fucking course.
“What do you mean, why am I here? I’m always here,” you tut as you fold your arms to your chest.  “What are you doing here?”
He rolls his eyes and holds up his hands, two suitcases clutched in each.  Who the fuck carries 4 suitcases up three flights of stairs? Kim annoying ass Taehyung does, apparently.
“I’m moving in.”  He pushes past you and into the living room.  
Your mouth gapes open.  Namjoon certainly didn’t tell you this.  Taehyung looks back at chuckles at your reaction.
“I’m guessing your best friend didn’t tell you the happy news?”
You shut your mouth, quickly jumping back into composure.  “No, he failed to mention that,” you sniff.  “I thought you lived with your girlfriend in Gangnam?  What was her name? Rose or whatever?”
Tae stiffens, just slightly for a moment, before he plasters back on the bravado.  “Obviously not anymore.  We broke up, she kept the apartment.  Got tired of moping at my mom’s house and I told Namjoon I wanted to come back to the city.”
You feel a slight tug at your stomach, guilt, perhaps?  You clear your throat.  “Oh, I’m sorry.”
He laughs as he sits on the couch, instantly throwing his feet onto the coffee table, like a heathen.  “No, you’re not.”  
“What do you mean, no I’m not? God, sorry for being polite!”
This, you reason, is why you can’t sustain longer than 5 minutes of civilized conversation with your best friend’s younger brother.  He’s impossible.
He just smirks, and you know he loves the rise he gets out of you.
“Because I know you, and I know you don’t give a fuck about my love life.”
Au contraire. If only he knew just how much you gave a fuck.
“That doesn’t mean I can’t be nice to you!” you nearly stamp your foot in frustration but hold yourself back. That would be too good of ammo for him to use against you.
“Okay, fine,” he acquiesces. “Whatever helps you feel you’re a good person.”
You’re seeing red and you know you want to continue screaming at him but you will not stoop to his level.
“Christ, I haven’t seen you in months and you’re still an asshole,” you say as you grab your keys and shoes. “And also, Jin will kill you if he sees your feet on his coffee table.”
You whip yourself around and open the door to leave and hear him call over your shoulder.
“Good to see you too, doll! Love the hairstyle, by the way.”
You close the door with a growl leaving your throat.  The absolute audacity of that man.
You stomp towards the elevator to take yourself to the ground level, when you catch your reflection in the shiny metal. Your hair is in what you can only lovingly call a complete hornet’s nest. It’s ratted and sticking out in places and you feel your cheeks burn.  Your first reintroduction with Taehyung is with a fight AND with you looking like a fool.
This would not do. No, sir.
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“Kim Namjoon!” you shriek into your cell phone.  You’re awkwardly pressing it against your ear with your shoulder as you walk out of the convenience store under your apartment building with 3 bottles of soju and a six-pack of beer. You needed to drown your shame and sorrow, and fast.
“Hello, love of my life and moon of my stars,” your best friend replies and you can hear Seokjin chuckle in the background.
“No!” You chide, already cracking a beer open as you storm into your apartment building. “Don’t you Khal Drogo me, mister! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me your fucking asshole brother was moving in with you?!”
Namjoon is silent and you can tell he’s wincing on the other end of the phone. “Oops?” He offers.
“Yeah, big oops! A heads up would have been nice! Like, ‘hey best friend, your worst enemy of all time is moving in today. Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep on my couch and wake up looking like Frankenstein’s ugly wife. Oh, and also my handsome boyfriend and I will just happen to not be there when he arrives’.”
By this time, you can tell Namjoon has put you on speakerphone because you can hear their rich laughter loud and clear. Rude bitches.
You stab your key code into your door and lock yourself in, chugging as much of the beer as you could handle.
“At least, even in her rants she thinks I’m handsome,” Jin gloats.
“I’m sorry babe,” Namjoon sighs as he finally calms down. “I didn’t know he would be there today. I just found out about it last night.”
You nibbled at your bottom lip, the annoying pit in your stomach feeling simultaneously guilty that he went through a breakup, unbridled joy that something brought him down a peg, and just a dash of excitement that he’s single now.
You let out a breath. “It’s okay, Joon.  It just surprised me to see him.”
Jin butts in, “And because you have a big, fat, unresolved crush on him.”
“Jin!” You admonish. The couple laughs again and you roll your eyes, asking yourself why you put up with the two. “I do not!”
They both hum a non-committal answer, implying they don’t believe you in the slightest.
“Whatever.  What are you guys doing, anyway?”
“We just got home from shopping.  God, Jin looked so good in these jeans he tried on.  I was actually just about to suck his coc-,”
“Kim Namjoon, do not finish that sentence! I do not wish to hear it!” You try to remain firm, but dissolve into giggles with the pair.
You could never stay mad at Namjoon long, even if his brother was the devil incarnate.
“Darling,” Jin calls through the phone.  “I still expect to see you at our place tonight for our sleepover.”
Christ, you had forgotten all about your scheduled sleepover night.  It was tradition and one of your favorite parts of your friendship with the couple.  Jin, a literal chef, prepared a five star meal along with dessert for you while you binge watched Netflix and talked incessantly.
But you also usually slept in their spare bedroom.  The exact one that Taehyung would be occupying.
“Fuck, while he’s there?”
“Oh suck it up,” Jin chides, like he’s your mother. “He’s probably not even going to leave his room.  You’re not getting out of this.  I’m making strawberry cheesecake.”
Your mouth waters at the idea of Jin’s famous cheesecake.  
“Fine, but I get to lick the bowl and not Namjoon.  Those are my terms.”
Namjoon squawked in defiance as Jin laughed.  “I agree to your terms.  Be at our place by 8.”
As you hung up the phone, you checked the time.  6:40.  God, he hadn’t left you with much time to get ready, did he?
And you definitely needed to get ready.  There was no way you were entering a room where Kim Taehyung exists looking like booboo the fool, not again.
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Your fingers press the 6 digit passcode to Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, arms heavy laden with your bag of toiletries and pajamas, and a bag full of wine.
“Honey, I’m home!” You announce as you toe off your shoes and slide into the combined kitchen and living room.
You receive no reply, but greeted with the amused face of none other than the object of your filthiest dreams, Taehyung.
“Pet names already?  We’re moving pretty fast, wouldn’t you say?” He asks you as he lounges at the kitchen table.  He watches you open the fridge to set the wine, as comfortable in their home as you are in yours.
“Fuck off,” you grumble. “Where’s your brother?”
Tae seemed absolutely tickled by your disgruntlement.  “I think they mentioned something about taking a shower.  That was 20 minutes ago, though.”
“Great,” you sigh. “Those fucking horn dogs act as if they’re still newlyweds.  We’ll be waiting awhile.”  
You tug off your sweater, leaving you to remain in a fitted tank top and yoga pants.  You tried to maintain a comfortable look as you dressed for the evening, while keeping in mind which leggings hugged your ass and showed off your toned thighs, and a tank top that dipped low to your cleavage.  Okay, so maybe you had ulterior motives. You wanted to make up for your dreadful appearance earlier and make him squirm, payback for the years of him doing it to you.
You watch him as he lets his eyes roam your body, eying you like he wants to ravage you completely. You feel victorious… and also turned on. Fuck, you played yourself.
You flop onto the couch in a huff and Tae snorts before joining you.
“What’s so funny?” You eye him suspiciously.
“Nothing,” his smile feigns innocence. “I’m not allowed to laugh?”
You sniff in annoyance, not eager to fall for his tricks. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want, your highness.”  Sarcasm drips from your voice and Tae finds it even more humorous.
“I see you’re still a sassy bitch.”
You gasp, audibly startled by his language and rise from the couch, fists clenched.
“I see you’re still a conceited dick!”
He rises to meet you where you stand, eyes boring into your own with his stupid sexy grin on his face.  “I see you’re still not one to back down from a fight.”
You step closer, close enough to feel his breath on your face.  Idly, you note it smells like peppermint and you move closer on reflex.
“Yeah? I see you’re still not one to avoid starting a fight in the first place!” you huff.
“Oh, I started it?”  
“Yeah, you started it! You called me a bitch!”
You can’t believe this is happening.  You feel as if you’re 6 again and fighting with him over a toy.
“A sassy bitch, actually,” he corrects, taking another step forward, bodies touching.
“Fuck you!”
“Only if you say please,” he quips before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours in a scorching hot kiss.
There’s not even a moment of hesitation on your end, immediately pulling him even closer and wrapping your arms around his neck and allowing his tongue entrance to your mouth.  Your body reacts to his instantly, as if it’s wired to respond to him and him only. Your mind was blank of anything except Tae, only Tae please, and you acted purely on instinct alone.  And instinct was pulling him closer and begging, more, anything he could give.
The sound of laughter coming from the hallway pulls you apart, neither of you wanting to get caught by Namjoon or Jin.  You stare at him, his lips are cherry red and slightly swollen and the image burns into your retinas.  He has such pretty lips after you’ve kissed him.
“Oh hey! What’s going on here?” Namjoon asks as he notices the intense eye-battle you’re engaged in with his younger brother.
It shakes you out of the spell, eye contact broken and hypnosis halted.  
“Just, errrr,” you falter to find the right words to explain the situation.
“Just getting reacquainted.”  Tae sounds completely unaffected, as if the passionate kiss you shared with him seconds ago was but a distant memory.  Asshole.
“I’m surprised you two haven’t thrown anything at each other yet,” Jin laughs. “Or thrown yourselves at each other.”
Both you and Taehyung whip to look directly at Jin.
“Her!?” Tae is incredulous. “Gross.”
You’ll never admit out loud that his words wound you.
“You’re an asshole, Taehyung,” you punctuate your words by turning away from him and towards Namjoon, who appears amused as ever.
“Ah, I love when my best friend and my little brother are screaming at each other.  Feels like old times.  Can one of you cry now to complete the moment?”
Taehyung grumbles under his breath, something you can’t catch, and stalks off to his room.  The slam of his door reverberates in the apartment and Jin jumps and turns to yell down the hall at his brother-in-law.
“Yah! Don’t break my apartment! I still owe money on this!”
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Despite Taehyung’s appearance every so often in the kitchen or living room, the rest of the night goes on with no annoying disturbances.
Jin spoils you and his husband with expensive food, and the best cheesecake you’ve ever eaten in your life.  Plus, you’re given the bowl to lick clean despite a desperately adorable pout from Namjoon you were sure would persuade Jin.
You’re settled on the couch, snuggling in the middle of the couple as an action movie flickers across the big screen tv.  Truthfully, you haven’t paid attention to a single thing happening, your thoughts entirely too absorbed in Taehyung and that deliciously infuriating kiss.  
Why did he do it?  You couldn’t comprehend his reasoning.  Perhaps he was doing it to piss you off.  He’s never angered you with that level of intimacy before, but you didn’t put it past him.
You’re surprised when the credits of the movie start rolling and Jin and Namjoon fake loud yawns.
“Oh man, I’m beat,” Namjoon lies.
Jin is quick to join. “Me too, I think I’ll pass out the moment I hit the pillow.”
You roll your eyes at the men. “Will you two please go fuck already, I know that’s what you’re going to do.”
Namjoon blanches, but Jin laughs and kisses your cheek. “Ah, my smart, beautiful and chaotic child,” he coos. He leans in to your ear, voice low to keep his husband from listening. “I don’t think I’m the only one in this house who’s going to get pounded into a mattress.”  
He pulls back and winks at you, deftly ignores Namjoon’s confusion and sadness of being left out, and drags him to their bedroom with a loud ‘goodnight’.
You’re left to stew in your own emotions, which is never a good thing.  Was the tension that obvious? You always assumed it had been one-sided, but the kiss befuddled you more than you’d like to admit.
It finally snapped in your mind, all the dots connecting. That’s why he did it.  
He kissed you so you’d stew and simmer and eventually erupt, like you’re doing now.  Taehyung knows you too well for your comfort.
You grab your bag of clothes and storm towards the bathroom to change, promising yourself to forget about the kiss and not give Taehyung what he wants.
Except you’re not very good at promises, especially to yourself.
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You can’t say you’re excited to sleep on the couch again.  While it’s a nice couch, it’s definitely not a bed and your back will pay the price tomorrow.  You supposed it was better than the floor, but not by much.
After dressing in your pajamas, a purposefully picked out combination of tiny shorts and a sports bra in case Taehyung happens upon you, you return to your bed for the night in the living room.
Namjoon graciously left blankets and a pillow out for you, and you’re complaining internally about Taehyung the whole time you make yourself a spot to sleep.  If it wasn’t for stupid Taehyung and his stupid existence, you’d be sleeping like a baby on the guest bed that you loved.  But no, they relegated you to the couch like an animal.
Sleep was not in the cards tonight, it seems.  You toss and turn and try to press at the cushions to move a lump around and get comfortable, but it’s all for naught.  You’re wide awake and very, very uncomfortable.  You didn’t understand how you fell asleep on this very couch earlier in the day.  Maybe the mimosas you had at brunch with the couple had been helpful.
A thought crosses your mind. Alcohol.  Maybe a nice glass of wine would help tuck you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.  A nightcap. Of course.  You were angry at yourself for not thinking of it hours ago.  
You slipped out of your disagreeable bed and into the kitchen, trying not to make a sound.  Jin’s beloved kitchen was also an echo chamber of noise, even the slightest sound bouncing off its walls and amplifying it through the whole house.  You still remember the way you jumped five feet in the air when Jin accidentally broke a plate.  It sounded like a bomb explosion.
You bite your lip as you carefully pry the cabinet of wine glasses open, careful to not even allow a squeak of a hinge.  You silently beg to stay silent and not wake anyone in the house.  You didn’t want to be caught drinking wine at 2 am in the dark, that’s difficult to explain without looking like an alcoholic.
With glass in hand, you tiptoe the fridge to pull out the bottle of merlot, thinking the heavy red wine would be the best to get you sleepy and quick.  
You tug the cork from the bottle and pour a healthy amount into the stemware with a smile.  Liquid sleep.  And you had done it without making a single sound. Perfection. The smell of the alcohol permeates through your nose as you lift the glass, placing it to your lips to take a sip.
“Wine at this hour?” the unexpected voice of Taehyung echos through the kitchen, making you yelp and jolting you hard enough that you drop the hard-earned glass of wine to the tile floor, red wine splashing as the sound of glass shattering is reverberating off the walls.
“Fuck!” You screech at the intruder.  Taehyung doubles over, laughing as if he’s seen nothing funnier than what just transpired.  “You asshole!”
You listen past Taehyung’s incessant laughter to ensure the owners of the apartment hadn’t awoken during the ruckus. You definitely did not want to face a tired and agitated Jin to tell him you shattered one of his Tiffany crystal goblets.
Beyond Tae, the house is silent and you’re thanking whatever god is listening for keeping your best friends asleep.
The wine is everywhere, spilling into the cracks of the tile and splattered on the walls.  The crystal stemware is too; it shattered with such force that you see flecks of the shrapnel in all four corners of the room.
Tae wipes a tear from his face and you square a tempestuous look at him.  
“Fucking help me!  You made me drop it!”
Through snorts, he replies. “I didn’t make you do anything.  You did that on your own.”  Although he is arguing with you, he’s gingerly stepping into the kitchen and kneeling to pick up shards of glass.
“I wouldn’t have dropped it if you had come into the room like a fucking normal person,” you grit.
He collects the glass, the delighted grin on his face now permanent.  He’s relishing in your annoyance, you know he is, and it burns you from the inside out.
“It’s not my fault you didn’t hear me.”
“You could have turned on the light! Why were you in the dark like a freak?”  You’re grasping at straws, anything to pin this all on him.  It would quell the fire in your belly to push it all onto him, make you feel as if you’ve won.
Taehyung levels a look at you.  “And you weren’t also in the dark? Pouring a gallon of wine for yourself?”
Your cheeks flare red. Fuck, he definitely caught you there.  You’re playing verbal poker with him and the hand you’re dealt falls flat compared to his royal flush.  He grins, knowing he has you.
“Fuck you,” you snark, you go to insult when you’re backed into a corner.
“Ah, doll,” he winks.  “We talked about that.  Be careful what you wish for.”
The fire inside you is roaring to an inferno now, flames licking to your core. It’s a complicated mixture of anger and sexual energy. It’s infuriating that he’s able to make you feel every single emotion to the extreme. You hate that arguing with him turns you on, like it’s some perverse foreplay.  
You moisten your lips with your tongue as you process his words, and Tae’s eyes hungrily track the appendage as it glides over your lips.
“Fuck. You.” You emphasize perfunctorily.
All thoughts of wiping up the mess are forgotten as Tae drags both you and himself off the floor and steers you to the living room, lips feverish against your own.  He pushes you into the couch and tugs his shirt off, before replacing his lips to yours.  
“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot when you’re a bitch,” he groans as he snaps the strap of your sports bra. “Seeing you get all worked up makes me so hard.”
He’s not wrong. You can see through his mesh basketball shorts that he’s sporting an impressive package, rock hard in its clothed prison.
“Yeah?” You bite at his lip.
“Hell yeah.”  His hands work to the elastic band under your bust and tugs the offending material off, tits springing free as he throws it to the floor.  
“Holy shit,” Taehyung breathes as he gets a good look at your chest.
You shake them gently, grinning as he watches them jiggle.  “You like what you see?”
He smirks and pinches a nipple, wiping the coy smile off your face and turning it into a moan.  “I like when you’re mouthy, but don’t push it.”  
He lowers his head to the nipple he’s still pinching in his fingers, licking at it and replacing his fingers with his mouth.  He’s moaning around the nipple, and you’re gasping for more.  His hot mouth sucks at you, teeth nibbling and pulling it until you’re whimpering in delicious pain.
“Fuck!” He cries as he pops away from your nipple.  “You’re so fucking hot.”
Your body warms at his words, arousal pooling between your legs.  You’re sure that your thighs are drenched in your essence.
He slurps your neglected breast into his mouth, ensuring your nipples are equally abused.  His tongue is skilled but his mouth is messy, saliva dripping all around your tit and it’s the hottest fucking sight you’ve ever seen.
He’s pulling away again and pinching both nipples with his hands simultaneously. “And you’re so fucking annoying.”
You’re pleading for more or to stop, you’re not sure.  He continues.
“Mm, I’m gonna fuck you until you’re a good little bitch for me. Listening to every fucking thing I say.”
He releases your nipples, and you finally find the ability to focus again, staring directly at him.
“Oh, you think you’re that good?” you sass as you attempt to catch your breath.  “Put your money where your mouth is.”
Tae grips your chin roughly, face inches away from yours with a sadistic grin. “You’re going to regret those words, baby.”
Instantly, he’s standing up and tugging his shorts down to let his cock spring free.  Your brain misfires as you visually measure his cock and your mouth goes dry. He’s thick and long. The bulbous head is dripping pre-cum, begging you to slurp it up.
“How about I put my money where your mouth is,” he suggests as he grabs a fistful of your hair.  
He teasingly rubs his cock on your lips and cheeks, makes you whimper with need. Your tongue is sticking out, desperate for him to lay it on you.
“Already so fucking greedy,” he grunts and in one motion, directs his dick into your open mouth. “I’ll fuck your throat, yeah? Greedy bitches love getting face fucked.”  He is still for a beat more, eyes searching yours for consent and you nod with his cock still in your mouth. He winks, then begins a rapid pace, his cock fucking into your mouth and throat.
You’re sure you look like a goddamn mess with saliva dripping from your mouth as Taehyung punishes your throat with his thrusts.  You gag and moan around him, and he tightens his grip in your hair as you see stars.
It’s indescribable. Never have you felt such pleasure from sucking cock, but Tae commands your entire body, willing you to drip with anticipation.
“My little fuck toy, god you feel so fucking good,” he hisses. “You’re gonna swallow my cum, baby.”  
His hips are stuttering, he’s close, and you’re sucking him harder, cheeks pulling in harder to vacuum him in. The pressure makes him groan out loud.
“So good, so fucking good. Get ready for your prize, baby,” his voice cuts off in a gasp, as his cock twitches violently. His legs shake and he doesn’t hold back the moans of his orgasm, gasping as he feels rope after rope spill down your hot throat.
Your big doll eyes are twinkling up at him, lips still wrapped around his cock. Taehyung is sure it’s the hottest thing he’ll ever see in his lifetime.  You on your knees, subservient to him and thriving for it.
“Mmm, I like it when your mouth is full like this,” he slowly pulls out of your mouth, albeit reluctantly. “Can’t talk back to me when you’re sucking my cock like a whore.”
You smile and stick out your tongue, pleased to show him you happily accepted his cum.
“Good fucking girl,” he coos as he grips your chin again. “Did you like my cum?”
You nod, brain fried from the heat of the room.
“Use your words,” he grits and grips your jaw harder. It’s enough to shock you into compliance.
“Y-yes! Fuck, I love your cum, Tae.”  Your words are breathy and raspy, throat raw from his barrage.
“I knew you would, filthy slut.  Sit on the couch.” He orders and you’re quick to scurry and sit on the makeshift bed you made.
His hands are tugging down your shorts quickly. No teasing or seduction here, not now. You lift your hips, and he throws them aside. Your legs close on reflex, making him growl.
“Do not hide yourself from me.” His tone is dark and you can’t help but shiver as you open yourself up to him. You want to talk back, want to fight and bite at him, but you’re quickly losing the ability to even speak, and you’re aching for him.
“Where’s my mouthy little bitch? You’re awfully quiet. Did I finally break you?” He teases, pressing your legs upward, knees to your ears. It’s pornographic how on display you are for him, soaking wet cunt front and center.
“The great Taehyung thinks he can break me with his cock,” you mewl, mustering all the false confidence you can. You’re lying through your fucking teeth and you both know it, but you continue. “You’ll have to do more than that.”
Your pussy is quaking with need now, desperate for a single touch. His hands maintain purchase on the backs of your thighs, holding them up.
“There she is,” he bites at the flesh of your leg closest to him which makes you jerk in his hold. “Gonna fuck the brat right out of you.”
He removes a hand from your thigh and you’re quick to pick up the slack, holding the thigh in place to maintain his open show of your pussy.
“Try me,” you murmur, and you’re instantly regretting your words as a harsh slap descends and lands square on your cunt.
You nearly scream, pain flooding your wanton pussy, before turning into delicious pleasure that stings and tingles right at your clit. It sizzles, and warmth blooms where his hand was.
“That’s for not believing me.”  His eyes are feral and you want to bottle this memory forever.  
Another slap has your legs trembling, eyes rolling back as the burn turns to a low heat.  You’re dripping your wetness down onto the couch and Jin will kill you, but you don’t care.
“That was for calling me a dick,” he smirks.
Smack.
Tears spring in your eyes as the slap brings more pleasure than pain, desperately close to your edge.
“Look at you, you could cum just from this, couldn’t you?”
“F-fuck! Yes, please, I need more, please!” Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for friction and leaking out of you like a faucet. Taehyung marvels at you, legs spread so far, with a cunt weeping with arousal for more. He can’t wait to dive in there, but he’s not finished with you yet.
“More? I don’t know if you deserve more, baby, you’ve been awfully mean to me,” he tsks, breathing hot air on your clit, making you whine.
“P-please! I’m sorry!” You’re sure you will black out with how desperately you need him. You need him more than you need oxygen.
“Beg.”
You’re quick to submit. Thoughts of fighting back are long gone, you’re his wanton little slut now.
“Please, please! Pleaseeeee, make me cum! I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?” He asks with an arch of his eyebrow.
You’re nodding wildly, gazing at him with desperate, watery eyes.
“Anything, I need you so f-fucking bad it hurts!”
By the time the words leave your lips, he’s thrusting two fingers into your cunt viciously, fingering you ferociously. He arches them, rubbing against your spongy g-spot and making you scream. He knows you’re close, knows you only need one little push off the edge. He plays your body like a skilled practitioner.
“Cum on my fingers, baby. Let me see my greedy little bitch milk my fingers.”
Your body and mind react accordingly, deep down you know your body is owned completely by him, all his.  Your orgasm explodes and you think you actually scream, your vision is black and your hearing goes silent for a moment as you cum harder than you have in your life.  You’re squeezing his fingers with your pussy so tight and Taehyung is gently licking all the juices from his hand with his fingers still inside you.
It takes time to descend from the separate plane of existence Taehyung sent you too, but you come back and watch as he laps at the liquid of your cunt and on his hand like it’s a vital necessity. His fingers remain in your walls, and he refuses to break eye contact with you. You’re positive you could cum again from the sight.
“My little cockslut tastes so good, just how I like,” he tells you tenderly. “Like cherries, so sweet.  My little cherry.”
Your cunt is aching and warming back to life as he pulls his fingers out of you. The loss is immense and you’re whimpering for more.
“Ah, ah,” he hushes you. “No whining. You’ll take what I give you.  Suck my fingers clean. Taste yourself.”
He presses his fingers into your mouth, earning him a sigh, the taste of you filling your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his fingers and suckle each one to ensure your tongue laves the entire surface.
“Fuck,” he whispers and it’s his first crack in his steel reserve. “Needy.”
He pulls his fingers from your mouth and presses against you to kiss. It’s gentle, sweet, and nothing compared to the man assailing your pussy with slaps moments ago. It thrills you just the same and you return in kind, threading your hands in his wavy hair.
He pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, a moment of gentleness you actively welcome.
“This little cunt ready for me?” He whispers and you’re whimpering your reply.
“Please, fuck me. I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk.”
He grins and presses a kiss to your lips again, sweet and chaste, before he pulls away and slides down to attach those same sinful lips to your pussy.
It’s so unexpected you flinch and manage a cry as his tongue slurps up more of your delicious essence and his mouth moves to suckle on your clit. You’re not sure where the fuck he learned these tricks, but you know now you will never let him go.
“Taehyung!” You cry at the sensation. “Fuck!”
After receiving the reaction he was desperate for, he slips his tongue into your walls deep and gathers as much of you as he can, before he’s pulling back and swallowing you down.
“I couldn’t resist. Your cunt was made for me to devour.”
He doesn’t allow for a response as he throws your legs over his shoulders and lines himself up at your core.
“Condom?” He asks you, and you level a quick look at him.
“I don’t live here! I don’t have any!”  You’re savage, terrified he’ll pull his cock away when all you want and can think about is the way he’ll feel pounding into you.
“Don’t be rude, baby,” he reminds you with a swat to your ass. “I’m clean, promise. You?”
You nod quickly, reveling in the spank’s tingle. “Same. I have an IUD too,” you sigh. Thank god for medical birth control implants.
“Good. You’re the only pussy I’m gonna fuck from now on,” he promises. You know you must talk about this later, when you’re thinking rationally and not with your aching pussy.  
Your heart stutters and leaps into your throat but all is forgotten as he plunges into your tight heat.
“Ohhhhh shit, ahhh,” he gasps. “Baby, you’re so fucking tight and wet.”  He’s on the verge of whining, becoming just as needy and greedy as you.  He wastes no time in setting a pace.
His cock fills you completely, his angle allowing him to go as deep as he can, pressing the beginning of your cervix.  This is surely what heaven feels like.  It feels like the completeness you feel with Taehyung fully sheathed inside you.
It comes alive with flames and explosions as he fucks you, hips pistoning to plunge in and out of you with tenacity.  He fucks you like he laces every single thrust with more, more than just sex. He fucks you with purpose.
You’re moaning like a pornstar now, high pitch wails and gasps and breathy moans are all you can manage. “Taehyung, yes! Feel so g-g-good!”
“That’s right baby, scream my fucking name. Make sure all the neighbors know who fucking ruined you,” he nearly spits, cock thrusting into your core at an impossible speed. “I want you to tell all of Korea who owns you. Who owns this tiny little cunt?”
The wind leaves you, and you’re gasping for air, gaping mouth open as you try to reply. It takes him fucking into you harder a few times before you feel it rush back into you.
“You, Taehyung!  You!  Fuck, I love your cock!”
His thumb rubs at your engorged clit, allowing it the friction it seeks.  He bends forward and wraps his other hand around your throat, squeezing.  
Losing air combined with the friction on your clit has you keening, so close to the edge. You try to babble his name but nothing comes out.
“Look at my pretty little slut taking my cock so well,” he praises.  “You have the greediest pussy, don’t you? You need my cock daily, baby. Need to put my mouthy bitch in her place, remind her who’s in charge.”
He slows his pace but his thrusts are punishing, fucking into you as hard as he can. Your orgasm is climbing so impossibly high.
“F-fuck!” You gasp as he releases his grip on your neck. “Gonna cum! Please let me cum!”  
“Yeah baby, cum for me.  Cream your greedy pussy all over my cock.”
The world stops spinning as you hit the height of your climax and plunge down.  Your vision goes black and your body is quivering and convulsing nearly as hard as your cunt is. Taehyung hisses at your walls sucking him in, as if you’re begging for his cum, begging for more.
“Fuck, good girl, baby, holy shit,” he’s breathless and so close.
You’re overstimulated, boneless, but he wrought two of the best orgasms you’ve ever felt in your life and you’ll be damned if you leave him high and dry.  You bite your lip as you move with him, hips pounding against each other. His face is scrunched up and you know he’s close when he’s stuttering on his words.  You take over for him.
“Please cum in me baby, please.  Fill me up. I’m yours, baby, mark my little cunt as yours.”  You don’t know where it’s coming from, but you keep it going. It feels as natural as fucking him does. “Please, Taehyung!”
At the sound of his name leaving you in a whine, he spirals down his own completion. He feels his cock pulse as he empties his load into you, your walls still reverently beckoning for him. He’s calling out your name, grasping at your tits as he finishes and you’re smiling from ear to ear. Your pussy is warm with his seed and you’re positive it’s the way you want to feel every single night.
“Holy fuck,” Taehyung rasps as he pulls his cock out of you. He thrills as he watches his cum follow, slipping out your folds and down your thigh. “I definitely marked you.”
You hum in reply, finally allowing yourself to soak in the haze of orgasmic bliss. Tae presses his head to yours again, kissing you sweetly.
“Come sleep in my bed?” He asks. He means more behind it. He wants to ask you to sleep in his bed every night, stay with him every day, be the one he grows old with. He knows there’s still more to talk about, wounds of the past to heal, but now you’re with him, and he knows he’ll work through anything.
You nod, and kiss him again, understanding his hidden meaning laced in his words.
A sly smile spreads across his face. “Last one to bed has to take the blame for the wineglass,” he teases. Your head spins as if you’ve got whiplash.  He can switch from dominating to sensitive to the little shit he is so quick.
“Hey! No fucking fair! You fucked my ability to run out of me!”
“Shouldn’t have been such a sassy bitch,” he winks before he tears away towards his room.
“Taehyung, you’re an asshole!” You call as you limp your way behind him.
From behind Joon and Jin’s door, a critical voice bellows, “YAH! I’ll kill you if you got your jizz on my couch! And what is this I heard about my glass!!? HEY!  Those are TIFFANY. CRYSTAL. THE DISRESPECT!”
You slip into Taehyung’s bed and wrap yourself around him, the two of you gasping with mischievous giggles.
Kim Taehyung will always be the one who knows how to drive you wild. He’ll always aggravate and infuriate you, send you reeling.
But now you didn’t think you minded it at all.
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© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.
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shotorozu · 4 years
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“you didn’t think getting a classmate thrown at you would cause you to choke in silence— and by some miracle, todoroki is the first one to catch on.”
legend : [Y/N = your name] f!reader with they/them pronouns, all might’s daughter reader, reader has a telekinesis quirk
warnings : swearing because of bakugou, choking, if you ever hit your windpipe and you start choking, get help right away!
notes : i’m trying a new format for fics! (and drabbles) idk why i’m going on a todoroki dump lately, it’s his birthday after all. ALSO I WAS ALMOST DONE BUT GRRR TUMBLR RELOADED. i was so mad lol. so i don’t really like this but DONT WORRY!! i’m making another fic.
»»————- ♡ ————-«
It’s been almost 4 months since your first year at UA had started, and you’d think by now— you would’ve gotten used to all the hectic things that had to come.
Nope, not in the slightest bit.
Though you do love the class, and you enjoy being around them since they all seem like nice people, (minus one person) the class itself goes haywire with their frenzied energies.
Sometimes you wonder if you’re able to keep up with them, since they all have such excentric and unique personalities. They somehow manage to keep the room’s atmosphere lifted up with their voices, that are accompanied by lighthearted jokes.
But today, it seemed to be out of your favor.
You’re in your seat, recalling what your father— All Might, had said about your progression, and how he planned on helping you work with your quirk more.
Needless to say, you’re quite delighted to hear that your father wants to pay more attention to you, since he was mostly just focusing on Midoriya.
But your train of thought is cut short when you see Mineta fly towards your way, practically knocking into your entire front, and jamming into your windpipe— as it bounces from you and towards the wall.
“Damn grape fruit, learn some fucking decency for once,” You can hear Bakugou call out to him, and you can assume it was him that decided to throw your classmate at you
“Sorry, Y/N!” Kirishima calls out to you, noticing how his hot headed friend chucked the short, and purple haired classmate towards your direction.
You try to play it off cool, since you can’t even be mad. Even though Bakugou’s quite a spiteful person, he probably didn’t mean to throw Mineta at you.
Your seatmate, Todoroki looks at you as if like he was analysizing you. His mismatched gaze locked onto you with concern, I mean.. how could he not? Mineta has been thrown on you.
The air escapes you for a moment, and you try to breathe in to counter it. But it doesn’t work, as it became futile.
You blink, and you try again— trying your best to just breathe damnit, you’re questioning what’s all of this for? And it feels like you’re suffocating.
It’s all very sudden too, and without any warning. You can practically the way your heart hammers against your chest violently, and you try your best to not make too many movements. Okay, just breathe Y/N, am I having an attack right now? It really can’t be, can it?
You grasp your chair as you need something to grip on— facing yourself away to prevent any attention to be drawn towards you, since that’s the last thing you want. Every second that passes, it gets even more difficult to take in the air, and it feels like your life actually slipping away from your grasps.
Was it even possible to choke from getting your windpipe hit by Mineta? You never thought it would happen to you, since your quirk allows you to protect yourself— curses. What would your dad think of this? It’s not like you expected this to happen in a classroom.
A calm voice breaks you out of your thoughts, and suddenly you feel a cool hand press against your nape— “Did you hurt your windpipe, L/N?”
Todoroki’s eyes scan over your facial features calmly, noting about every single red flag that’s shown on your face, that’s practically screaming for something
You feel shame course out your entire body due to the situation, but you nod— still unable to accumulate proper words due to the current situation
The dual quirk user says nothing. However, his actions are quick, moving infront of you to shield you from any attention. His other hand resting against your back— proping you up right, so your position on the chair isn’t hunched uncomfortably.
His hand caresses your back up and down, giving out instructions for your labored breathing— “Breathe in,” he commands calmly, activating his quirk in hopes of aiding you “Breathe out,”
You finally manage to get in some air, inhaling through your mouth, and sharply exhaling the air back out. It feels so good to be able to breathe again, and you’re confident that after this— you won’t take it for granted again.
Unfortunately, the situation hadn’t been discreet enough— as it managed to grasp the attention of Midoriya and Yaoyorozu, they crowd at your desk. Asking Todoroki if there’s an issue, concern lacing their tones.
But you’re overwhelmed, eyes threatening to close. Your body slumping against your desk, and you fall unconscious.
It was interesting describing the situation to Recovery Girl, and also to your father.
All Might being concerned was an understatement. He was concerned about how it happened, and how he could’ve prevented the situation if he was there. (But he’s not to blame, at all.)
Briefly after you fell unconscious, attention was gravitated towards you— as everyone was clearly concerned. Then, you were dragged to Recovery Girl by two of your classmates; Kirishima and Midoriya, since Midoriya couldn’t stop rambling about his concern towards you.
“Your windpipe got hit, and the impact blocked it.” Recovery Girl explains, briefly after using her quirk on you “And it appeared to be that you’ve gotten the wind knocked out of you. Good grief, who throws people in classrooms? I could give them a scolding right now.” Recovery Girl rants.
You wince at the problem, “Ah.. there’s no need for that. I’d suppose it’s partially my fault for having my guard down.” You grin, but she doesn’t look amused.
Recovery Girl can only sigh, placing a hand on your shoulder. It’s her way of comfort, you’d guess. “Either way, it was still careless of them. I’d go on and on, but for now, you just need to rest right here— you were overwhelmed back there so it’s important to get some rest.”
Recovery Girl’s partially right. So after resting for a little bit longer, you finally leave the infirmary. But you flinch in surprise; a little startled when you meet Todoroki— who’s leaning right behind the door.
“Ah, Todoroki,” You wave at him, and.. you honestly don’t know where to start. Especially after the classroom situation. “I want to apologize about what happened back there. You didn’t need to do that.”
He shakes his head, “It’s alright, L/N. It’s.. what I had to do anyway.” His brows furrow, remembering what happened back in the classroom.
“Besides that.. are you okay? You didn’t damage your throat, did you?”
You laugh, and it may or may not have been in attempt to make the situation light hearted. “My windpipe got blocked, and apparently, I got the wind knocked right out of me! I didn’t know there was an actual name for that! I should really be cautious next time.”
His lips turn up, and he releases a short chuckle— “I suppose it’s a learning lesson for both parties.”
The walk back is.. rather shameful. How were you supposed to go back there, almost as if you didn’t nearly die? choked? The lack of conversation is painful on your ears, and partially on your ego since the silence is almost awkward.
You don’t know what he’s thinking.
“So!” You decide to break the silence, heterochromatic eyes laid on you as he awaited your response. “What do you mean by.. both parties?”
“Well.. you did say you wanted to be cautious more. Which I get, even though you shouldn’t be that cautious in the first place— since it’s not your fault,” Todoroki stares at his feet momentarily, finding his words.
“And both parties because.. I should’ve asked you if you were okay when I saw Mineta get thrown at you,” His expression crumples up, grimacing when he suddenly remembers that exact moment, he should’ve helped them. “I noticed you were choking a little too late.” He mutters.
Like.. how can he stare at you all the time, and just suddenly not notice you choke?
Your feet stop in it’s place, and you shake your head— “You’re so hard on yourself,” you comment, looking up at the ceilings. “Again, it’s not your fault. I was trying to be discrete— y’know!”
“I don’t want you to feel like you should hide anything from me.” He tilts his head to the side, eyes boring into your own.
Blinking, you think over his words— “I’ll keep that in mind.” You’re taken a back by the bluntness in his tone,
“Anyways, thank you, Todoroki. I.. wish I could pay you back somehow.” You pat him on the back, his heart hammering against his chest when you lean in to do so. It’s doing that again.
You turn your back against him, as you start walking even closer to the classroom— and before you can have your hand on the door, he calls out.
“Shouto.”
“..What?” You ask, unsure if you heard him correctly.
“You can start by calling me that,” He offers you one of his one of a kind smiles, something that feels so genuine— full of authentic gratification.
An uncontrollable smile breaks through your face, and you immediately turn away to hide away the flustered expression that is your current state “If you say so.”
Choking in class because someone was thrown at you is definitely not your proudest moment as Y/N Yagi, but.. you’ve definitely gotten something out of it.
Shouto speaks once again. “Oh and.. why wouldn’t I help you? That’s just watching someone die.”
You wince, realizing that Shouto’s correct. Why wouldn’t he help you?
bonus : mineta got flamed by everyone afterwards— including a serious talk from recovery girl, and all might. even though it wasn’t inheritantly his fault that you almost died in class lol
»»————- ♡ ————-«
tldr : Y/N gets folded by mineta bc bakugou threw him at you by accident,
likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!
i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing.
do not plagiarize my work :))
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