#sometimes people say things and i feel like they're one step away from saying any fictional character who kills is irredeemable

[yandere-romanticaa]

An idea that I really like is Ratio falling for someone who is his complete and total opposite in every way imaginable.

He is the kind of person that operates on pure cold logic and facts. He believes in what he sees in front of him with his own two eyes and yes, while it may be fascinating, perhaps even a little entertaining, to philosophize about various unimaginable concepts they are all indeed just that.

Concepts. Ideas. Things made up from the bottom of the bored human psyche.

Veritas Ratio is a man who is able to grasp many, dare he say, possibly every concept he has ever encountered. He loves a challenge but hardly anything is challenging to him because he is such a genius. He devours books that are over a thousand pages long, the most complicated equations of any science are finished by his hand with such ease that many people might mistake him for a machine rather than a man of flesh and blood.

That's what makes it so fun to see him fall for an airhead. A person who probably doesn't care, or doesn't have the mental capacity to care about such things. This person would rather spend their days dallying away, picking flowers, baking, just doing things that are so mundane and plain (to him). If they do decide to read, it is some trashy romance model, maybe even just straight up written porn if they're just that shameless.

And this is the person who has Ratio grabbing his head in frustration.

He's shaking with anger in his room, golden eyes wobbly as he watches you walk up and down the space ship. You got lost, again. How much of an imbecile are you? Do you truly need someone to guide you through everything? With a huff, the scientist grabs his head made of plaster and makes his exist. He puts the mask on and in no time finds you, all lost in the hallways. You hear his upcoming footsteps before you see him and once you turn around, you are greeted with that bizarre mask you've grown so accustomed to.

You greet the man cheerfully, to which he just huffs. With his arms crossed, Ratio gives you a long and detailed lesson on how you ought to be more careful and aware of your surroundings, that this kind of behavior will not be tolerated. You are not a child and should stop acting like one.

Tears swell in your eyes but none are shed as the two of you turn back, him being a few steps ahead of you. Two pairs of footprints sound incredibly loud in this long and dark corridor. Veritas hears you quietly weeping and he feels the slight inkling of guilt pulling his heartstrings.

... Perhaps he was a smidge too harsh with you.

You are a clueless creature, sure. But maybe, he sometimes reveled in that fact. It was wrong and he would never admit it out loud but his heart whispered it clearly to him - you like this.

Veritas watched you carefully through the reflection of the window, the plaster head concealing the expression on his face. With your lips in a full pout and eyes watery like fresh morning dew, he couldn't help but to be just slightly charmed.

He scoffed to himself as he pressed onwards. He figured he had better standards for himself but that was not the case, clearly.

And just like that, he had escorted you back to your room. He could hear you mumble out a quiet thank you, which he acknowledged with a polite nod with his head.

He's not that cruel. Or rude for that matter!

With the situation now swiftly dealt with, Ratio figured it was high time he went back to his studies. He has already wasted far too much precious time on this, he isn't even sure when he'll finish that -

His train of thought is broken when he feels a pair of arms gently embrace him from behind, the warmth welcoming and dare he say sweet.

Veritas stilled, his body like the statue which some saw him to be. You still could not see his face but his anger could still be felt.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" he spat at you, his tone cold but venomous.

He felt your face being pressed against his broad back, fat tears caking his fine clothing. Just as he was about to pry your hands off him, he heard you finally speak:

"Thank you for helping me. Really..."

Your tone was soft and remorseful. You did not want to disturb him but despite that, you did just that. He was willing to accept your apology and have this situation be over with but what you said next simply knocked all of the air out of his lungs.

"You see, I... I wasn't sure how I could get your attention. I just wanted you to notice me, to talk to me..."

.... Goodness.

He was used to people trying to get his attention but to act like such a pathetic damsel in distress was new. He had to give you credit for your creativity, at the very least.

"I want to be your friend. I also want you to teach me all sorts of things-"

Ratio stopped listening to you mid sentence, his mind running hundreds of laps in thought. Perhaps you weren't the idiot he saw you as. Your little ploy worked, clearly. And if he took you under his wing, who knew what would become of you.

He could turn you into a diamond with his own two hands.

It was embarrassing just how giddy the thought made him.

The shadows of curiosity and some other emotions took over his mind as he analyzed the situation. There really was no harm in taking you all for himself.

Besides, if you were capable of this deceitful plan, who knew what else you could do?

He was eager to find out.

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Dating After A Toxic Relationship

A/N: Not requested, just an idea I had 😊 Remember, requests are open! Be sure to read my rules and please respect that I'm only interested in writing for these characters. Thank you! Feedback is always appreciated 💜

Butcher is very vocal. He knows you jump and scare easily, so he always makes a point to say where or if he's going to touch you, if he's upset and why (so that you don't worry you're the reason), when he'll be back, etc. This takes a lot of trial and error between the two of you. Butcher is an angry, violent person. You knew this going into the relationship. There's always a worry it could turn on you, and that's what he fears most: that you'd ever be afraid of him. He reassures you constantly he would never, ever hurt you. He knows all about what your ex did. You wanted to be up front and honest, knowing some of your behaviors might seem strange or out of place. The last thing he ever wants to do is emulate your ex and though it takes a lot of rewiring and assessment of his actions, he's trying to be better for you so that he doesn't lose you.

Hughie hates what your ex has done. Bit by bit, you give him the overview of your relationship, what they were like, and how they treated you. Sometimes you jump or flinch and he's reminded all over again that, despite what he does, there will always be this underlying fear and distrust. It took a long time to date him let alone tell him everything. He's patient and gentle and makes sure you're okay with every step you take further into the relationship. He takes every relationship show regardless of past history. When you see your ex again you have to pull Hughie away, not wanting him to start anything. He can't help it. He looks at them and he sees red. He's filled with disgust and hatred. Hughies always been on the timid side, but the thought of someone hurting you like that boils his blood.

Annie never wants you to feel like you have to hide that kind of thing from her. She knows all about power hungry people who take advantage of others. Still, she can't believe it. You're kind and funny and sweet and you always have everyone's best interest at heart. You know what it's like to get hurt, you wouldn't dare hurt someone else. She knows you don't want any trouble with them, you just want to move on, but she can't help but light up when she sees them. Secretly she goes to them and makes it known if they so much as look at you, even think about you, they're done. She's always asking if what you're doing is okay and wants to be as open as possible about boundaries. You're grateful she likes innocent touching, mostly hand holding, and when you're having a hard time you know she'll grab your hand and squeeze it, reminding you she's always here for you.

M.M knows all about your ex. He was the one to help you get out of that relationship in the first place. Since then you've become really close, so close he's now your boyfriend. After your ex shows up at your work one day, Marvin decides to take things into his own hands. The Boys make a special appearance at their apartment where they make it known they are never to go near you ever again. You have a lot of fears about trusting someone again, especially in a relationship, but M.M. is patient. He never wants you to feel like you have to do something you don't want to or aren't ready for. He's more than okay with taking things slow. He actually prefers it that way. He's extremely protective over you and, unfortunately, are his biggest weakness. If Homelander ever found out about you, M.M. would be done for.

Frenchie met your ex a few times before you broke things off. The way they spoke to you, wanted to control you, all the sings were there. He feels awful that he didn't see it sooner, but you could never blame him. You're just glad you got away from them. Frenchie is attentive and devoted and males sure you're comfortable with every step in your relationship. He offers, jokingly though not jokingly, to have your ex killed when they start sending calls and texts and emails. You assure him it's okay, you'll handle it. He knows you're more than capable, but he's always got a back up plan ready just in case they want to try anything more. He's extremely patient when you decide to tell him. He knows there's more to the story than what you're sharing, but he doesn't push it. He's grateful you shared anything at all. It's a big step and means a lot that you'd trust him.

Kimiko is learning to trust just like you are. You've both been through a lot, but you find a great solace in one another. Kimiko isn't sure who this random person is that shows up looking for you, only that the rest of The Boys are suddenly cagey, angry, and very protective. They're grateful you're not there. When she asks about them, you finally tell her. You dated a while ago and it wasn't a safe relationship. You thought you could get away from them, but they seek you out. They like to know they're in control. She feels awful. You're genuine and smart and sweet. Those terrible things that happened to you only made you softer and, unfortunately, more prone to anxiety and distrust. She leaves it up to you to take the next steps in your relationship. You appreciate more than you could ever put into words. You love her, but you need to take things slow.

Bonus! Homelander killed them a long time ago. The moment you showed up in his life, he knew there was someone who'd hurt you. It takes a long time to tell anyone, let alone him. One day the phone calls and texts and emails just stop. They stop showing up at Vought looking for you. You think you've finally scared them off or perhaps they got bored, but it was actually your new boyfriend. Normally he'd like to boast all about how he tortured them, h9w easy it was to kill them, how stupid they looked when he pulled out all their teeth, but he knows you wouldn't like that, so he keeps it to himself. He knows no one will miss them. You certainly don't. You're sleeping better now and getting more comfortable in your relationship without the constant threat of them showing up or following you. Homelander rests easy knowing they can never hurt you again. He lacks a lot of self-awareness in this department.

[kazumist]

THE NAME OF LOVE .ᐟ

✩ — the three times hoshina soshiro dismissed his feelings for you as something that friends do and the one time he realized otherwise.

✩ — request: IVE BEEN WANTING TO REQ U SOMETHING FOR SO LONG NOW I HOPE U DONT MIND !! can i ask for hopeless romantic reader and hoshina soushirou.... the way he... is...... (LOVE PESSIMIST 🫵) I'm a sucker for hoshina falling first or confessing first but it is truly up to you!! i genuinely have no idea where im going with this so pls feel free to change anything to your liking

✩ — includes: hoshina soshiro x gn!reader. fluff. cw: uhm funky pacing bc this is just pure word vom LAWLZ. wc: 3583 (i did not expect for it to be this long i swear). reader works for operations and is considered as second best to okonogi (is also okonogi's assitant). ikaruga and okonogi cameo yipee! hoshina is bad at feelings ™. reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !!

to love is something you cannot name.

that’s a saying that stitched itself onto your brain because it just makes sense. loving someone has way too much depth, depending on the person who is the one lending out their heart and who they are giving it out to in the first place. it could be named as anything, depicted as anything, or interpreted as anything.

especially for you, who had witnessed, watched, read, and consumed all sorts of media that named love as numerous things. sometimes love is tragic, making two people feel so much just for them to get pulled away from each other when they were so close to running into each other’s arms. sometimes love is mirthful, having two people become the best versions of themselves around the person they love because they feel safe becoming vulnerable with the other. yet sometimes love is bittersweet, accepting the art of letting go as it was for the best—accepting that things weren’t just meant to be but not forgetting the emotions the person made you feel.

well, how were you supposed to know what love really is? a hopeless romantic is hopeless for a reason.

having a day off is quite rare, even for the employees of the operations department. the work was quite demanding, as any job involving the JAKDF was. but you still made time to relax and enjoy your rest from time to time, whether that was rewatching a good old romcom film from the 2000s or reading a new romance novel you decided to pick up.

it was normal for a hopeless romantic to dream. to fantasize. that maybe they could experience an extraordinary love like it is portrayed in films or described in songs. so naturally, as a hopeless romantic yourself, you weren’t any different. you just wanted to experience love—to be loved.

then again, liking someone does count as experiencing romance in a sense. admiring someone with traits the public doesn’t really notice is… rare. but that’s how it always went with you. though you wouldn’t really say that you actually acted upon your feelings, they're usually be gone once that person has stepped out of the current environment you’re in.

that’s how it was before.

vice captain hoshina was a respectable man. he is talented, and he sure as hell knows it. as the ton put it, you and the vice captain had a strange relationship—nobody really knows what to call you two. as the secondary leader of operations and okonogi’s assistant, it was only natural to be in the presence of the vice captain most of the time. but there’s just something different when it comes to how you two treated each other.

from flirtatious remarks and confusing gestures that you aren’t sure if you’re supposed to interpret as romantic, just what were you to the vice captain? you’ve observed long enough that he only does this to you. though you don’t really hate it. in fact, you like it that he’s only like that to you—but you weren’t supposed to like him, you swear! but honestly speaking, how could you not? you had plenty of reasons to like the vice captain in that way. you just pray that no one has really noticed it.

however, okonogi wasn’t stupid. she gets praised for her analytical skills for a reason and you wish she didn’t have to use those skills when it came to your romantic interest in the vice captain of all things. she promised to keep it a secret, though, and keeping secrets is a thing okonogi was really good at (to your surprise).

— — — — — — — — 

the first time hoshina denied his feelings for you was when he overheard some rookies talking about you.

“(l/n) is such a blessing to the third division, don’t you think?” one said as the other hummed in agreement. “i know, right? they’re so nice! did you know that they helped me once? they gave me tips on what i should do to enhance my combat power for my fighting style; it was really helpful too!” the rookie beamed. hoshina had an unsettling feeling churning inside of him as he eavesdropped on the conversation. but he quickly shook it off, thinking that he probably ate something funny earlier.

but why hasn’t he received such treatment from you? you were closer to him than some rookies, right? 

right?

wait, what the hell is wrong with me? hoshina thinks, snapping out of his earlier thoughts. he was not jealous of some rookies. those were just rookies, for christ’s sake! hoshina walks away, only to be greeted by the sight of you and ikaruga talking this time.

“thanks again for the film recommendation the other day, (l/n). i didn’t expect to enjoy it so much—you were completely right! it did suit my preferences,” he excitedly says. hoshina watches silently, observing everything in detail. and one thing he notices is that ikaruga is standing close to you—way too close than he preferred.

“really? i’m glad you liked them, ikaruga. feel free to ask for more film recs when you’re free.” you laughed at his enthusiasm. ikaruga had always been a fun person to converse with, in your opinion. and you two bonded over films! but it was really nothing more than that. “will definitely do!” he replies, giving you a two finger wave as he excuses himself.

he was definitely not jealous. why would he be jealous in the first place? you two were just friends.

and friends don’t get jealous like this.

— — — — — — — — 

the second time was when he was undergoing recovery after the whole fiasco of the tachikawa base raid. everyone was exhausted. it was fortunate that the third division didn’t get any casualties during the incident; the majority of the troops were only injured for the most part. soshiro was counted among the severely injured troops but he doesn’t regret it one bit.

or so he thought.

soshiro wakes up slowly, blinking and squirting his eyes at the sudden brightness of the light above him. he felt a weight on the side of his bed when he tried to get up, as if something (or someone) was pressing down on the blanket. looking down, he wouldn’t mistake your hair for anyone else. he knew it was you with just a glance.

and there you were, sleeping softly on the side of hoshina soshiro’s bed. soshiro takes note of your appearance that he could see right now—which was really just your messy hair. he gets up, making sure that you don’t wake up. it is likely that the operation has not had much sleep up to this point, which is why you ended up sleeping in his hospital room of all places.

he feels bad. a hand slowly reaches out to your head, stroking it ever so gently. if he were to be honest, he was worried for he operations team during the attack. he recalls regularly checking in to see if things were okay on your end, and you kept reassuring him that everyone was unscathed. his other hand reaches out to his phone on his bedside, checking to see if he missed anything. he was unconscious until now, he thinks. and the text from okonogi just confirmed all of his suspicions.

you’re probably still unconscious by the time i sent this, but they’ve been there every day since you got admitted. 

that’s all the message contained. soshiro glances at you again, a soft smile tugging on his lips. he doesn’t get why okonogi felt the need to send him that text, but the thought of you waiting for him to be conscious again made him feel… warm inside. but it all went away as he pulled back his hand from your head as you stirred awake. you raised your head, adjusting yourself to be in a more comfortable position as you rubbed your eyes with your knuckles. 

shock was an understatement when you realized that he was finally awake.

“vice captain! i—sorry, i didn’t mean to sleep on your bed. wait, are you okay? does anything hurt?” he just stared at your eyes, trying to process something. shock was still present in your eyes, and relief was mixed in them too. you noticed him not answering anything you said. worried that he might be suffering from some aftereffects, you asked him again. “uhm… vice captain hoshina?”

he snaps out of it as soon as he hears his name. “sorry, i was just thinking. what were you saying?”

“er… is there something on my face? you’ve been staring at my face the whole time since i woke up…”

hoshina blinks once. twice. then thrice. before he focuses his gaze on something else, looking away from you. you held back a laugh at the sight of red tinting his ears as he apologized for his actions. 

“i’m glad you’re alright, vice captain.”

hoshina freezes. he didn’t expect those words to have a bigger impact on him than they do now. but this is all natural, isn’t it? friends worry about each other. friends wish and hope that the other is okay.

yet why does he feel bitter when he labels this as something that friends—no, snap out of it. he thinks.

“i’m glad you’re alright too.”

— — — — — — — — 

the third time was when you were sent to work to the first division of all places. he was completely against it, of course, but he doesn’t have any concrete reason to actually protest against it. 

it was quite boring to not have you there. he didn’t really have anyone to disturb anymore. and the sudden change in the vice captain’s demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed by the platoon leaders. sure, he still had the same toothy grin on his lips, with his fang peeking out ever so often but deep down, you can’t really point out if it was genuine.

after all, hoshina soshiro was good at concealing his emotions and thoughts.

but then again, okonogi wasn’t stupid. it pains her to be the one who’s stuck between the vice captain and her subordinate. soshiro was the same as the night he didn’t get to neutralize kaiju no. 8 back then. shoulder slumped, arms crossed, a slight pout on his lips, and an expression that clearly stated he was pondering about something—or perhaps someone?

“you miss them, don’t you?” okonogi suddenly asks as she organizes the paperwork in front of her. working with hoshina when it came to paperwork wasn’t really new, except for this time because you would also be present in times like these. “miss who?” he decided to play dumb (or is the right term indenial?)

“please don’t make me spell it out for you, vice captain.” she replied, pushing up her glasses.

hoshina doesn’t reply, zoning out as he thinks about okonogi’s words. well, it wasn’t really false that your sudden absence had changed things in the vice captain’s usual routine. he doesn’t see you making a cup of coffee after he finishes training in the middle of the night. nor does he see you drowning yourself in research at the library when you’re not in the operations room, where soshiro would personally lend you a hand and provide his own insights on whatever you’re researching.

oh. 

oh.

he does miss you.

but that’s just normal, right? friends miss each other. and friends tend to leave sometimes but they will always come back when the time is right. however, the head of operations for the third division didn’t have to be some kind of genius to put two and two together. 

the vice captain has some sort of interest in you as well; he just hasn’t realized it himself.

— — — — — — — — 

the day you returned from the first division was the day everything went back to normal for soshiro.

it was currently a quarter after one in the morning, and he had just finished his training. he ended up going more overtime than usual, but if he hadn't, he probably would’ve missed the open door to the library at this hour. and of course, being the ever so curious man he is, he takes a peek in.

and again, there you were. but this time, you were drowning yourself again in research. your hair was a bit messy, and the eyebags doesn’t go unnoticed by him. yet in spite of that, soshiro still found your appearance to be lovely. maybe it was just the fatigue from his training, or perhaps it’s the thought of you being so determined in your work that sparked such a thought in him.

regardless of what the reason actually was, soshiro found your appearance lovely despite it all.

“you should head to bed soon.” he says, approaching the table you were currently working on. you looked up, surprised to see him awake at this hour. but you put your focus back on your work, not even giving him a second glance—which surprised the vice captain. he reads on whatever you were working on, noticing that they were mostly reports of kaiju no. 9. 

“researching on kaiju no. 9, i see. need a hand?”

“there’s just something off about him and i can’t put my finger on it. also thanks, but no thanks. i can handle this myself, vice captain.”

“it’s almost two in the morning, are you sure about that?”

he didn’t quite catch on to what your reply was, but he was positive that you just declined his offer either way. hoshina decides to pull up the chair beside you and grab the small stack of reports in front of you. he rotates the lamp a bit in his direction, but just enough to leave some light for you to read as well if you needed to.

you sigh at him. “vice captain, you really don’t have to—”

“but i want to. it’s the least i could do.”

truth be told, you really can’t bring yourself to be in the presence of the vice captain now. everything was just confusing. you were aware that the vice captain doesn’t really like paperwork in general (who even likes paperwork in the first place?) but you don’t get why he’s so insistent on helping you every time he finds you here.  

you don’t get why he likes your company so much. you considered yourself to be plain, a bit mundane for someone to actually spend some time with. especially when your interests don’t really spark any others for the most part. 

and while you may be a hopeless romantic, you weren’t foolish. even if you like the vice captain who’s currently making an effort to help you with your work, he’s just way out of your league. he’s too high to reach, and you were sure as hell that he would never actually look at you in that way. not now, not ever.

but why? why does a part of you keep saying that maybe he does? he wouldn’t do all of that if he didn’t actually look at you in that way, right? hope is a dangerous thing for someone who doesn’t know how to stop. for someone like you who refuses to give up on most occasions. it was stupid. foolish. naive.

not now, not ever would hoshina soshiro actually look at you that way.

“vice captain, please get some rest.”

“i could say the same to you.”

god, why is this man so stubborn? is he not tired from all the late night training he does? you thought, slowly getting frustrated. hoshina tells you his observations based on the reports in his hands and shares his hypothesis on the matter. he had some valid points and he’s lending a great hand at the moment. but frustration was just getting the best of you at the moment from your numerous trains of thought.

“the fact that he can adapt so easily is scary in itself. and the recent report of him breaking in the operations room in the first division states that—”

“why are you doing this?” you cut him off.

hoshina stares at you, dumbfounded at your question. he opens his mouth to answer, but no words actually come out of him. he chuckles bitterly in his mind. soshiro would like an answer to that question as well. but then it dawned on him. every flashed across his mind in seconds, and he finally realized it.

yet the result of that still scared him.

he was in love. hoshina soshiro is in love—with you nonetheless. the person he swore was just a friend. it took him quite a while to realize it, always being in denial that it was just normal for friends to act the way you two were. but he was in love. and that scared him. because what is he supposed to do when he finally realizes that you have consumed him? he never wanted this to happen, not in a million years.

but perhaps he was in love with you long before he started tripping along the lines of being friends and something more.

why are you doing this? your question echoed in his head. because i love you, he swallows back down his throat. he can’t say it. there’s no way things would work out. he could die any day and he’d rather not see you miserable because of his death. it would be better if you found someone else—but how ironic. he couldn’t really handle the thought of you being with someone else in the first place.

why are you doing this? your question echoes again. “because i love you.” he finally says, hesitant even. hesitant to know what you’re reaction was going to be. your eyes went wide at the sudden confession, and hoshina was certain that you wouldn’t believe him (well, he couldn’t really believe it either). “you’re kidding me,” you replied.

“i’m not.”

and surely enough, the look on the vice captain’s eyes said it all. he was dead serious. "i... why?” it's ten past two in the fucking morning, and you were too scared to accept that all of this was occurring right now, so you were afraid to ask. you were too scared to just randomly wake up and realize that maybe it was all a dream. too scared to believe that your feelings are being reciprocated.

“because you’re different—different to me, if that makes sense. it’s like you have this effect when it comes to me. food tastes better whenever i share a meal with you; my day just feels more peaceful whenever i get to see you’re doing fine, and i realized that maybe i haven’t actually looked at you like a friend or coworker for as long as i can remember; i was just too stupid to realize it earlier.” he avoids his gaze for a moment before looking at you again.

“i love you. i want you to look at me and love me too. we’ve come too far to turn back. i’m already too deep into you.”

you were speechless. 

he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. it repeated like some sort of chant inside of your head as you processed everything. hoshina soshiro loves you back—who would’ve thought? you hadn’t realized that he was sitting so close to you. the tension was so thick, but you easily cut it down as you started with your response.

“you’re an amazing man, vice captain, and i truly cannot grasp how you could feel such feelings towards me, but i love you too.” you could see hoshina jump in his seat in shock at your confession, but you continued. “i love you in ways you have never been loved, for reasons that you may not have been told, for longer than you think you deserve and with more than you will ever know existed inside of me. yet i can’t help but still wonder… how? why? wait no, why was already answered—”

he chuckles at you. stopping you with your words. “what’s so funny?” you pouted at him. “it’s nothing. i just can’t believe that we’re seriously having this moment at two in the morning.”

“sorry, i think that may have been on my part. i kind of snapped there because i was just so… confused.”

“confused?”

“yeah, confused if we’ve crossed the line between friends or lovers without actually realizing it. crazy, right?”

hoshina moves a bit closer to you, making the distance between the two of you smaller than before. he puts his forehead against yours. “not really, but i look at you, and i just love you, and it terrifies me. it terrifies me what i would do for you. i’m in love but i’m also terrified—that’s what i think is crazy.”

“then let’s be terrified together,” you whispered to him.

a soft laugh leaves his lips this time. “i like the sound of that.” he whispers back.

he loves you.

and you love him back.

that’s all what matters.

love, in general, can make you feel all sorts of things. joy, confusion, anger, fear, and many more. it can also make you do all sorts of things. it can make you do things you never really imagined doing for or with someone in the first place. it tends to be irrational—ridiculous, even. but the thought of doing all of it for the person you care most about? you finally realized that’s simply what love is all about for you.

to love is something you truly cannot name.

[grimm-writings]

Hiiii, I would like some Dungeon Meshi headcanons please! Reader is the oldest human in the main group and they're really motherly towards them. Like they're always fretting over their well beings and acting like a doting parent. And if you want, could you also add that Chilchuck's kinda into that so he falls for them?

That's all thank you!

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader, platonic touden party & reader

…tags! fluff, some crack, headcanon format, mild manga spoilers, reader is referred to as ‘mom’ once

…wc! 847

…notes! the way i nearly screeched in delight when i got this ask. chilfuckers i’m one of you let me in. you used they/them for the reader so i’m gonna assume this is a maternal gn reader! i hope it is for your liking ty for being my first request 🥺

Having a more wise, of age individual in the party is always a plus when you need some advice.

And when most people in the party are absolute lunatics.

You have your hands full trying to stop Laios acting recklessly in action, or doting on Marcille when her emotions get the best of her.  Goodness, even Senshi has your hair going grey from how he gets sometimes!

Laios just sort of… lets your doting happen.

He can get slightly grumbly if you get too mad at him.  Still, it’s not the worst thing a parental figure could do.  Go easy on him!

Marcille takes psychic damage upon learning your age.  She’s staring at you, at the age in your face, and taking the years into account.

It’s simply not computing.  You… You should be, like, a pre-teen or something!  Human ageing baffles her once again.

Still… she is incredibly receptive to you doting on her.  She’s more of a carer on instinct but she finds herself falling into you whenever her spoons are low.

Senshi just sort of hits you with the “why tho” when you try fretting.  It’s actually slightly frustrating.  Still, you can recognise his wisdom and take a step back.  He can take care of himself… most of the time.

Izutsumi… oh the dear girl.

You must have recognised the signs immediately.  Her lack of table manners, her reclusive nature… she’s so young.

The girlcat was a bit prickly to any doting at first.  You would probably remind her a bit too much of Maizuru for her liking.

With time, perhaps sometime after he run-in with her succubus, Izutsumi would be a bit more welcoming of how you treat her.  It’s… It makes her feel nice, or whatever.

She accidentally calls you Mom once.  She was mortified as Marcille squeals in delight and Laios laughs to himself.  You couldn’t even ask if she thinks of you as a mother figure before she’s already stomping away to hide in a corner somewhere.

Then there’s Chilchuck.  Oh, what to say about him.

You probably thought he was a young human at first too.  He’s taller than other half-foots after all.  Still, as soon as you even try to act maternal around him, he yells at you and tells you he isn’t a kid.

Keep your distance for a bit, and he’ll warm up to you again.

Watching you do your thing with the other party members will have him commenting that he has no idea how you can just keep up with everyone like this, and he’s the one with three kids here.

You just smile gently and reply that it helps you keep stability knowing everyone in the party is doing alright.  At that, Chilchuck will give you a glance, and internalise your words.

Upon Izutsumi’s arrival into the party, Chilchuck’s perspective on you begins to alter slightly.

Initially, he respected you a fair bit.  You were more like the two older co-workers constantly giving each other looks at the younger ones’ antics.

But he sees you with this child he also has to admit he’s grown attached to.  You really were a natural maternal figure to Izutsumi.  He watches you tend to her sometimes, a smile slowly curling on his lips.

Then he catches himself, and his blood runs cold.

…Ohhh, shit. 

Chilchuck is level headed most of the time, but when he’s panicking he can’t keep his cool to save his life.

Around you, he becomes more… frantic, in a way.  Lecturing others to give you a break, even if he can just have a small talk with you.  If asked what’s up he’d raise his voice defensively and say it doesn’t matter.

One time, Izutsumi decided she can’t choose between her two favourite human heaters, and practically forced you and Chilchuck to sleep on either side of her.  Even with the girl slotted in between you two, Chilchuck was internally losing his mind at the closeness.

He even lets you dote on him a bit more again.  Not too much, though.  He’ll accept the occasional checking in and headpat but that’s it!

You can very easily pick up on his feelings for you.  It’s not hard to notice the shift in his attitude.

Well… It’s not like you can complain.  You may offer to help him out with his future shop once you’re out of here, giving him a slight wink.

Cherish how red his face gets.  He won’t let anyone else embarrass him so easily.  Maybe pinch his cheeks if you’re feeling brave, but he may swat you away depending on his mood.

At the end of the day, he’ll give you a small smile, and wonder aloud where the Hell all the party would be if it weren’t for you.

(Bonus!  I think Falin would also super appreciate your presence.  She’s the kind to simply take her own parents’ treatment of her and shrug it off in a ‘it is what it is’ sort of way.  Your doting attitude would leave her slightly discombobulated, but she’s very welcome to it.)

[jellieland]

A week or two after the games, Grian will usually check in with the victor.

It's a habit that's probably more for his own benefit than anyone else's. But it is, he thinks, a good habit nonetheless.

After all, as fun as it all is, things can get a bit... intense, towards the end, and it's good for his peace of mind to make sure the last one standing is ok with how things shook out.

Nothing much has ever really come of it before; they're all pretty resilient. He doubts this time’ll be different. Except- well.

Something about it all itches at the back of his mind, and he hasn’t been able to work out why. There was the actual ending, of course, but also Grian may have been whispering in Martyn's ear about how boring that final showdown was turning out to be, and how narratively satisfying it would be if he just betrayed the other two and got it over with, so.

If nothing else, it feels like he's got no reason to break with tradition.

There's just one more concern.

Martyn seems to have made it almost impossible to contact him.

It's not... unheard of, for players to keep to themselves most of the time, especially when it comes to those they don’t share a server with. It seems a little uncharacteristic of Martyn, but the last time Grian saw him outside the games was before they even started, so maybe he does things differently these days.

There are certainly a great many reasons why that could be the case, most of which are perfectly sensible.

But Grian's never been able to resist picking at a puzzle put in front of him, whether the puzzle likes it or not, so he is going to talk to Martyn. And he can just see what happens, and worry about any consequences if and when they appear.

Luckily, he already has a way to do just that.

He doesn't usually need to do this - although it is very funny to startle Scar or Mumbo with it sometimes when they're concentrating. Honestly it's usually less effective than communicators, with how much effort it takes.

But he does have a way. The same way he used to whisper in Martyn's ear very recently, in fact.

He reaches out, away from his home, away from his body, and it feels a little like simultaneously overextending himself, and putting his foot down on a step he thought was flat ground.

That is... not how this usually feels.

It's odd. Rather unnerving.

But it works.

He finds Martyn. Watches the vague shape of him solidify into something more real.

He’s still wearing his red life outfit, for some reason. His eyes are closed. Around his head, the coral curls like a blood-red crown.

“What do you think you're playing at?” Asks Grian.

Martyn blinks his eyes open slowly, looking less confused than Grian would expect for someone hearing a disembodied voice out of nowhere. “Oh good.” He says dryly. “You again.”

He squawks indignantly. “Hey, what's that supposed to mean?”

There is silence for a few seconds.

“...Hey.” Martyn says, and as flippant as he suddenly sounds, he looks as thrown off balance as Grian feels. “Not sure who this is, but I think you might have the wrong number!”

“I think that's unlikely.” He deadpans. “Where are you? I haven't been able to get hold of you.”

“Uh-” There's a short pause as he looks around at wherever he is right now. “Falling into endless nothingness, looks like. Same old, same old, am I right?”

Grian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ok. Well, I suppose you don't have to tell me.” A part of him makes a note of Martyn’s wording, though. Just in case.

“...Hm. Well, not gonna lie, I do appreciate the change of pace, but I would love to know what exactly you want from me. You know, just on the off chance that you feel like giving me any clues.”

It's at this point that Grian remembers: one of the main reasons this method of communication is good for messing with people is that it makes him sound, um. A little different. And while he can see Martyn, it’s not as if Martyn can see him.

...Best to just pretend that hadn't slipped his mind.

“You do realize this is Grian, right?” He asks, as though it ought to be obvious.

“Riiight, yeah, sure.” Says Martyn. “And I'm also Grian, did you know that?”

“Oh for- what, do you want me to tell you some secret only the two of us would know, or something?”

“Nah.” Says Martyn. “That wouldn't work.”

“Elaborate.” Says Grian, through gritted teeth.

“You know what? I don't think I will!” Replies Martyn brightly.

Grian takes a deep breath in through his nose. “I'm beginning to wonder why I bother.” He grinds out.

Martyn snorts. “Tell me about it.”

There's a short silence.

“But- ok.” He continues. “Just suppose for the sake of argument that you are Grian.”

“...Yes?” Asks Grian warily.

“I have a question for you.”

“...Yeeees?” Asks Grian, even more warily.

The silence stretches for several long moments.

“What's up?” Asks Martyn.

“Yeah ok, this isn’t worth it, I'm leaving now.”

“Wait! No, I'm serious!” Under the amusement, there's a note of something that sounds almost like nervousness in his voice. It's uncharacteristic. Unnerving.

“What are you talking about?” Asks Grian, trying very hard to keep his voice at least mostly free of annoyance.

“Oh, you know! What's going on, what's the deal, what'd you want to talk to me for?” There's a slight hesitation. “You need help or something?”

“I- ok. That's actually sort of relevant. It's really nothing too complicated, Martyn.” He says, grumpily. “All I wanted to do was make sure you're good with what happened at the end of the last game.”

Martyn blinks, and goes very still.

There is a long silence - long enough that Grian starts to feel concerned.

And then Martyn laughs.

It's not a nice laugh.

“Good, huh. You want to know if I’m good with it. That sure is an interesting choice of words.”

“...How so?” He asks, guardedly.

“Grian. Grian, I’m not sure if you remember this, but I won. I won this one, Grian.” Every word he says, however restrained, sounds like it’s had to claw its way out of him. He glares at nothing. “And guess what? It's just like the others. I don’t really care enough for any of it to matter to me, anymore, and that's fine by me.”

Now that's... a lot to unpack. “You- I'm sorry?”

“Well that makes one of us then, doesn't it?” His voice is coated with scorn.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you actually think I’m going to explain myself to you?” He asks, looking half-amused. “You, of all people?”

“Well unfortunately, Martyn, I can’t exactly put Ren on the line, so I’m afraid I’m all you’re going to get.” He snaps, and instantly regrets it when he sees the look in Martyn’s eyes.

There is a short silence.

Grian shifts uncomfortably. He’s not going to apologize, obviously. But. Well. “That... ok, maybe that was a bit much.” He says.

“...Little bit, yeah.”

There is another silence.

After a while, Martyn speaks.

“I would’ve betrayed him too, you know.” He says coolly.

“What, Ren?”

“Yeah. At the drop of a hat. Soon as it was convenient.”

“I mean sure, I suppose?” Says Grian, caught off guard. “You didn’t, though. Did you? When you had the chance.”

“Eh.” He shrugs, as though that’s an irrelevant detail. “It would’ve been more dramatic later. You know how it is.”

...There's no real way he can justify saying no to that, is there? “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I do.”

He tries to picture the King, betrayed. The Hand, triumphant.

“I dunno, though.” He says, thoughtful. “I don’t think you ever could’ve done it, to be honest. Not in the first one. Whatever it was you were planning, it was just never how that story was going to go.”

“That’s not true.” He says it just slightly too fast. “I know that’s not true.”

Grian scoffs. “You know thinking about something isn’t the same as doing it, right?”

“What, no, really?” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t say!”

“What I’m saying,” He lets his voice turn biting, “Is that you’re being stupid.”

Martyn lets out a startled laugh. It’s surprisingly genuine. “Wow. You’re really bad at this, dude.”

Grian bristles. “Well why am I the one who has to do it then? Why don’t you talk to someone else, if you hate talking to me so much?”

“I mean…” He makes an unconvinced noise. “Obvious problems aside, when do you even expect me to do that? We usually have other things to worry about.”

“I don’t know, maybe at literally any point between the games?” He sighs exasperatedly. “There’s no way you’re that busy.”

“Between the games?” Martyn asks incredulously, and Grian suddenly feels as though something dangerous is hovering over their heads, just about to drop. “What do you mean, between the games?”

“I mean between the games! Like- now! What do you think this is, right now, if it’s not between the games?” He snaps.

“This right now?” He looks nonplussed. “I think we’re usually asleep for most of this bit. Or possibly we forget about it. As you can probably imagine, it’s hard to know for sure.”

“Now I know that’s not true.” He says firmly, ignoring the unease trying to creep up on him. “I know I do stuff between games, and I know I don’t just forget about it. That makes no sense.”

“I mean, I don't necessarily mean everything between the games, more just this specifically.” He gestures around at nothing. “That gets more complicated, though. But you- hm.” He looks curious. “That’s interesting. Where even are you, then, at the moment?”

“I’m at home! Which is where I thought everyone else was too!”

Martyn seems to consider this for a few moments, and then he frowns, and then his expression goes blank. “…Oh.” He says. “Yeah. No, that… makes sense, actually. Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“Wha- what do you mean? Right about what?”

“Everyone probably went home. Or, at least, they thought they did. And hey, what’s the difference, when you get right down to it?”

“...Ok, I’m going to ignore the second part for now, I already got past that little existential crisis after Ren and Doc’s whole… thing… in season eight- if you think everyone went home, why are you- what was it you said- ‘falling into endless nothingness’?”

There’s another pause.

“...You’re really gonna make me say it, huh? That seems cruel, even for you.”

“Wait, no, what do you-”

“Where else do you think I would go?” It sounds less like an admission and more like an accusation. “What ‘home’ do you think I have left, Grian?”

“Look.” Snaps Grian, feeling vaguely tricked. “It’s not my fault that you-”

“Yeah, it never is, is it?” He glares into the darkness. “It’s always a tragic inevitability with you, never a choice you’re making. That way you get to stab people in the back and pretend to be sad about it. Best of both worlds, huh?”

Grian splutters for a few seconds. “Why are you being so rude to me??”

“Because you’re you and I’m me.” He smirks. “Don’t know what you expected, honestly.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s hiding behind inevitability now?” Grian retorts, perhaps a trifle vindictively.

“I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite, sometimes. Also, I never said I felt bad about it.” He replies levelly, and all at once, they’re talking about something else.

“You didn’t need to say it.” Snaps Grian. “You might be good at lying but you’re not perfect. I could see in your face that it hurt.”

He narrows his eyes. “It felt good, actually.”

“Wow, good for you.” He says, almost amused suddenly. “You didn’t say I was wrong, though.”

His expression twists into something unreadable. “I know you, Grian. Like recognizes like.” He says, voice low and dangerous. “You’re a liar.”

Grian shrugs, despite the fact that Martyn will not see it. “And you’re a coward. Your point?”

“I don’t need to justify myself to someone who refuses to admit that he could have chosen to be better, if he’d ever wanted to.” He spits out.

“Hey, at least I don’t try and convince myself I’m a monster just because I want to survive.”

That one strikes something tender; he can tell. “Right, yeah, and you’re just a blameless angel and everyone you cut down had it coming, I’m sure.”

“I didn’t say that. But since you bring it up… how many people did you give up your time for, again?” He grins. “Is it less than one? Because I think it is. I think I’ve got you beat there, Martyn.”

“And where did it get you?” He snarls.

“Home, in the end.”

Martyn flinches back as though he’s been struck.

“Did you forget about that part?” Asks Grian.

There’s a long pause.

Martyn fidgets with the end of the banner he wears around his waist, pulling at where the white threads are coming undone. He stares out into the darkness. “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I did.”

The satisfaction of winning the argument feels less potent, suddenly.

“You’re right.” Says Grian, after a while. “I’m really bad at this.”

Martyn laughs quietly. “To be fair, I’m not exactly helping.”

“You’re really not.”

He sighs. “You know pulling the knife out just makes the wound start bleeding again, don’t you? That’s all we’re doing here. That’s all we’re going to do to each other. We’re too alike to do anything else, unless we just don’t do anything. And hey, we’re not great at that either.”

“Hmm.” Says Grian begrudgingly. “I’d say something about inevitability again, but I honestly don’t think you’re wrong.”

“We both just enjoy pushing buttons too much to be particularly good at not pushing them, I guess.” Martyn sounds half-amused, half-resigned.

Grian makes an irritated noise. “Yes, alright, I don’t need another reminder of the whole button debacle.”

There is more silence.

After a while, Grian speaks again. “There’s something I was wondering about, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” Martyn raises an eyebrow.

“What’s the reason?” He asks.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific with that one, mate.”

“‘This is a death match for a reason.’” He says matter-of-factly. “That’s what you said. So- what is it? What’s the reason?”

Martyn blinks, then lets out a short, harsh laugh. “You think I know that?”

“No, not really. That’s why I wondered what you meant when you said it.”

“It- look. I don’t know if you’re expecting philosophy from me, or something. It’s a death game. People die, and it doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to be special, it doesn’t have to be honourable, it doesn’t have to be fair. That’s what I meant.” He frowns. “You know that.”

“I do.” He admits.

“Then why ask?” Martyn looks around as though this time, somehow, he might be able to find Grian’s face in the dark.

He doesn’t.

“I just-” Grian sighs. “What do you want?” He asks. “What do you actually want, Martyn?”

The question sits heavy in the darkness between them.

“What do you want me to say?” Martyn asks. He sounds more tired than Grian’s ever heard him.

“I want you to tell the truth.” Grian says. He needs to know. He needs to know.

“Now, Grian.” Says Martyn, voice gently chiding. “Have you met me? You know I can’t do that.”

“Pretend it’s a lie, then.”

Martyn’s grip on the banner he wears tightens, slightly. There is a long, long silence.

“Or how about,” Says Grian, eventually, “You say something, and I won’t know whether it’s a lie or not.”

There is another pause.

Martyn frowns at the red of the fabric in his hands, as though it might offer him something.

As far as Grian can tell, it does not.

He’s just beginning to give up hope of ever getting an answer when Martyn speaks, so softly he almost doesn’t hear it.

“I want it to be warm again.” He says.

It’s quiet.

For a moment – just a moment, no more – Grian remembers bloody, aching fists. He remembers burning heat.

“Well.” He says. “That makes one of us, then. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Says Martyn, voice low. “I guess it does.”

There’s another short second of silence before Martyn speaks again, sounding cheerful. “So, suppose I’ll see you in the next one, huh? If that ever happens.” He grins. “Wanna take bets on how hard Scott’ll have to try not to win it? I’m gonna go with very.”

Grian snorts. “I’m not taking that bet. That man is infuriatingly good at surviving.”

“You’re not wrong! You are not wrong.” He gestures into the void. “And don’t even get me started on Timmy’s whole thing, I think we both know how that one’s gonna go. Unless you want to bet against him being gone first next time round?”

“You’re not Scar.” Says Grian. “There’s no way you talk anyone into taking that bet in a million years. Except maybe Timmy.”

“Fair, fair.”

There’s a short pause.

Grian hesitates for a moment before he speaks – almost, but not quite, reluctant. “Why do you keep looking back?” He asks. “There’s nothing left for us there. You know that, right?”

“I mean, let me know when you find a better place to look.” He tilts his head to the side slightly, curious, and frowns. “Do you really never want to go back?”

“No.” Says Grian. “Never.”

Martyn opens his mouth, and then, uncharacteristically, closes it again. “Yeah.” He says. “Me neither.”

Grian is tempted, momentarily, to tell Martyn to take the banner off and let it go. Let the darkness take it. Prove it.

But just like Martyn, he lets it drop.

Mutually assured destruction is a potent thing.

Now all he has to do is the hard part. The part he’s dreading most of all.

The main concern is phrasing it correctly. Making it sound just how he wants it to sound.

After some thought, he thinks he’s found the words he's looking for.

He could always be wrong, though. He’s usually more one for incredible violence than smooth talking.

“Martyn?” He asks cautiously, casually. “Do you want me to help you?”

The expression that crosses Martyn’s face is unreadable.

He processes the question for a few moments, before he answers.

“Nah. I’m good.” He says, voice guarded. “Don’t worry about it.”

And that’s the rub, isn’t it.

Because now Grian has to decide whether he’s going to let Martyn lie to him or not.

Whether he’s going to pass the test that’s been set before him, or not.

...

Grian’s not a monster.

He’s just realistic.

There's nothing he could do, anyway.

“Well.” He says levelly. “Just let me know if that changes.”

(Martyn would do the same to him. It’s not a justification, or an excuse. But he knows it to be true.)

Martyn stares out into the darkness. His eyes are almost, but not quite, resentful. “Sure thing, man. Why wouldn’t I.”

It’s not said like a question, so Grian doesn’t answer it. “Well, you know I can’t stay here forever.”

“I do know that.”

“Any messages you want me to pass on to any of the hermits? I know you haven’t seen Mumbo in a while.” It’s not really a compromise, or a peace offering. Hopefully, however, it’s close enough to one or the other of those to act in their stead.

Martyn closes his eyes. Breathes in. Breathes out. Opens his eyes again. “If you were Grian, then maybe.” His gaze is cold. “But I think this hypothetical has gone on long enough.”

...It’s a lot easier for both of them, if Martyn believes that.

He’s positive Martyn knows that.

Just this once, perhaps he can manage to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

“For what it’s worth,” He says, looking away, “I moved on from the Bad Boys when it got too expensive to keep them alive.”

“It’s not worth a lot.” Says Martyn flatly. “And it would be worth even less coming from Grian.”

Grian sighs. “Alright. Fine. I’ll see you around, Martyn.”

“I know.” Says Martyn. He closes his eyes.

After a few moments, Grian does too.

When he opens them, he’s home.

…

Oh, that doesn’t feel good.

It really doesn't.

He could dwell on this. It wouldn’t be hard. He could drown himself in guilt over what he’s done, or not done, or will not do.

But- well.

Grian never really saw the point in letting someone else drag you down with them.

[myjisung]

stray kids : how they would act when jealous !

content. skz ot8, gn!reader, jealousy, established relationship, healthy dynamics ( or at least i think so ) — angst & fluff.

warning. none

wordcount. 1,1k

a/n. part two of this post i made last year :-)

bang chan ( 방찬 )

he would be annoyed but, even if you tried, you would not even be able to tell. chan is one to find his jealousy bothersome and sometimes a shameful. though it barely happens—chan is pretty secure in your relationship—he cannot help but get too far in his own head sometimes.

as confident as he would like to appear to you, some insecurities remain at the back of his mind and they double in size whenever someone expresses any kind of romantic interest toward you. he is flattered, of course, yet he still gets himself to the point of overthinking and would start comparing himself to that other person.

there is one thing that helps him get over his jealousy. however, he tries not to get to the point where he needs it because it makes him feel small. yet, sometimes, he just has to do it. chan would need reassurance to get over it.

lee know ( 리노 )

when minho feels jealous, you simply would not even see him until he gets over his own feelings. it happens from time to time and you most definitely recognize the pattern. everytime he gets in his own head, minho would step out—maybe go on a walk or a random errand to get away for a bit and find a way to make his jealousy stop. these outings range from one hour to three hours long, depending on how awful he feels.

you would not hear from him until he has gotten rid of his jealous feelings. minho would not talk about it on his own but if you were to question him, he would tell you pretty much anything you were curious about. from what made him feel this way to whether or not he was angry, minho is not shy to let you know.

"i'm not angry. rather i'm feeling sorry because i didn't tell you about this earlier. just needed some time to not feel terrible anymore, that's it."

changbin ( 창빈 )

though the type to adress any issue immediately, changbin turns silent when he feels jealous. he cannot help it, he would rather zip it than say something he does not mean. instead, changbin keeps it down and gives himself space to process his feelings and reason them.

he is confident, he does not feel threatened or anything of the sort. he just hates feeling this way. he finds jealousy ugly on him and would do anything to get rid of it before you figured out what had gotten to him.

if you were to adress it however, changbin is quick to admit he is feeling jealous. actually, talking about it helps tremendously. he would still be quiet after you both had a conversation and you assured him that nothing was going on but, he feels better and will come around to it.

hyunjin ( 현진 )

oh he is pissed. not at you, he would never, hyunjin knows his jealousy is no one's responsibility but his own. he works through it by himself but if it were to happen in public, he would not be able to hide it from his face.

if some guy were to approach you despite hyunjin having his arm lazily wrapped around your waist, he would 100% be glaring at him. hyunjin is a pro at throwing nasty looks and he would not shy away from doing it. if the same guy were to insist on trying to chat you up, hyunjin might speak up ( with a smile, of course ). he trusts you and he knows he barely has anything to worry about but, it's the audacity of some people that would get to him.

"look buddy, they're too polite to say anything but they're not interested. how about you get lost somewhere?"

han ( 한 )

the type to get a little snappy. jisung knows it's bad and he never means to turn that way yet he does. it's not like he gets jealous that often either but when he does, it overwhelms him so much he tends to let it control his mouth a little. because of that, jisung would tend to distance himself and stay quiet when he feels that way.

the type to drown himself in work or one of his hobbies so he does not have to think about it. if you were to come find him and try to make him talk about what was going on, jisung would shut you down very quickly and regret it instantly.

"listen, i'm sorry. it's just. i've got a lot on my mind and- it's nothing you did or- it's just. i've got to deal with it on my own."

felix ( 필릭스 )

casually jealous guy. felix knows it's silly to feel the way he does, which is why he often manages to talk himself out of it without much trouble. sometimes, however, it's a little much and he tends to internalize it. felix would be a little moody but simply pout and sigh a lot.

he is very obvious about it too but believes it's not the case. so, whenever you ask him whether something is wrong he would be genuinely surprised.

"what do you mean? everything is fine and dandy..."

"yeah you're not fooling me with the 'dandy' thing, you only ever say that when you're jealous."

"well he commented on your post again and he's being super weird!! not my fault."

seungmin ( 승민 )

suuuuuuuper crabby! it's almost ridiculous. what's even worse is that seungmin would pretend all is well but still keep his answers as short as possible and not reciprocate any of your silliness—and boy is that worrying. seungmin knows it's bad to act this way and he also knows he is better than this but sometimes, his feelings get the best of him.

once he is better however, he would immediately apologize. seungmin would not keep on pretending he is fine and would tell you he was dealing with big feelings. he might not admit to feeling jealous let alone tell you why that was. however, he would say sorry and definitely make it up to you.

i.n ( 아이엔 )

jeongin does not know what to do with his jealousy. the feelings consume him slowly and give him a stomach ache. the word JEALOUS would be written all over his face in big bold letters yet, for his sake, you would pretend not to be aware. you know jeongin is self conscious about how often he gets jealous and would rather you do not see it.

if you were to be honest, however, he is too obvious about it. jeongin's eyebrows would be knitted in worry and his lips pursed in a pout he kept trying to erase from his face. not only that, jeongin gets clingy. he's holding your hand and hugging you tighter than usual all while breathing loudly and sighing every few minutes. you do not point it out and he is thankful for it. a few hours later jeongin is ready to go again, jealousy long forgotten.

taglist. @l3visbby — let me know if you would like to be added / removed.

© myjisung. please do not copy, translate, repost or claim my work as your own.

[tsukimefuku]

old regrets and guilt ridden pasts (2) ꕥ higuruma hiromi

part 1 → this part → part 3 (soon) | mdni!

summary: you get home, only to find that hiromi is there ready to talk after your failed attempt to open up about your past. he intends to confront you on that, among other things.

tags: +18!, non-explicit! sex scenes, implied smut, f!reader, established relationship higuruma x reader, little to no cursing, reader is kind of emotionally stunted, romance, mentions of death, grief, angst, fluff, hurt + comfort (a lot of comfort, this is healing).

wc: 1.8k

notes etc.: heavy spoilers for "sand and snow" readers. this might be the loveliest thing i've written to date. thank you so much @redlikerozez for betaing it 🧡 written to the sound of running up that hill (kate bush) and heart skipped a beat (the xx) - the second one is the song that inspired the main scene. as always, i write flawed characters that can (and will) sometimes be assholes, but they're trying their best.

ꕥ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

When you came inside your apartment, there were no lights on. However, from the open door to your bedroom, you could see that Hiromi was laying down on your bed, probably fast asleep by this point.

Defeated, you left your things on the table and silently got in the room, stepping inside the bathroom to wash away all the grime and dirt (and hurt) from a godawful day.

'Godawful day' is definitely a good name for having memories of people long gone stirred up and thrown at your face, reviving your grief all over again.

You were still feeling guilty for not having talked to Hiromi about it, unable to not shut him out, yet again.

Why do I keep doing this? I'm such a jerk.

Upon finishing your shower, you came back into the room, and slid yourself into comfortable clothing before laying down beside him. Hiromi had his back turned to you, but he must've felt you on the bed, because he didn't take long to roll himself on the mattress and look at you.

He seemed upset, and with good reason.

"You could have entrusted me with your pain too, you know," Hiromi began, not giving you much time to muster up anything to say. Not even a good night.

You exhaled slowly, trying to collect your thoughts around it all. This day was an absolute rollercoaster of emotions.

"For you to learn my pain, I’d have to explain it, and I just... It is hard to explain exactly what happened and remembering that day," you offered. "Aside from me, Nanami is the only one who also saw it happen."

Hiromi considered what you said for a moment, but you could see the resolute way in which he softly shook his head.

"Still. I can’t fight you every step of the way for you to let me in. I’m your boyfriend."

The word lingered in the atmosphere around you.

He was, in fact, your boyfriend. You had been dating for a while then.

"We’re supposed to share these kinds of things so that we can be there for each other," he stated, a chide with a plead for understanding, while his thumb came up to press softly against your chin.

"I… I know. I’m sorry."

And you were, truly and deeply sorry, for everything. For pushing him into going along with that stupid idea of letting you inside his domain to get rid of your cursed technique temporarily, for retreating back into yourself when things grew dire, and for not letting him in when he expressly asked you to.

"What are you so afraid of?" Hiromi asked, in earnest.

You took some time to think about his question.

What were you so afraid of, after all, that you couldn't let him in — or at least felt like it, many times? 

Then, you realized.

"I'm scared that… That you will leave me too," you began, "I'm terrified that I will have opened myself up, all vulnerable and shit, and then for some reason, I'm left alone again. That's a recurring theme in my life."

"My love, in case that ever happens, keeping me at arms length won’t make it hurt any less."

You chuckled bitterly.

"Funny you should say that. I said the same thing earlier today."

Hiromi edged himself closer softly under the covers, approaching you gently.

"It takes one to know one, right?" he offered, in a kind and loving voice.

"I guess it does," you answered with a minute smile on your face.

"So, will you let me in now?" he inquired, holding your gaze. "Please."

You knew he'd surely be aware of at least the gist of the story, due to the evidence inside the envelope he never got to open before you confessed to your brother's "murder".

Still, it was different. He had to hear you say it, tell him the whole story.

So, you inhaled deeply, ready to dive in the murky lake of your past, before proceeding.

"My brother. He was…" considering for a moment, there was no word that could really convey it. Not entirely. You settled for "everything."

A sigh.

"He was… The sun to my moon. My brother was the laughter, the joy, the silly jokes, the shoes thrown around the house, the noise, the annoyance, the smell of curry in the kitchen, the helping hand, the coming home to, no matter how dire things got."

Silence.

"And then, in one night, there was… none of him anymore. Nothing, just his cold dead body laying on the ground."

A moment that felt like ten.

"I… We were twins, and a part of me, I guess… just died with him. I don’t think I’ll ever get it back. So here I am, still living with this hole inside me, where some piece used to be. His piece."

Hiromi stayed quiet for a second, pulling your knuckles kindly against his lips.

"My sun is gone, and I'm drifting, untethered. I…" You took a heavy huff of air inside your lungs. Yet, you were still breathless, the ache weighing on your thorax like a hydraulic press.

"This grief is like a tar pit, and no matter what I do, this faceless monster just keeps sucking me under." 

Your last words dropped to the drum of a eulogy, the one you never got to do.

His palm descended lightly on your cheek as the night breeze gently brushed over the window. The room was dark, dimly lit by moonlight and streetlamps bleeding through the curtain, but it became remarkably quiet. Silent.

Cotton filled ears while the world stopped moving for a second, waiting under a muted heartbeat.

One. Two. Three. Four beats.

His gaze softened — rather than darkened — as his lips approached, all pacify, and yearning, and empathy, and commiseration. Upon contact, your eyes fluttered into a deeper dimness, letting your mind drift around, away and back again, as he began his first attempt to tether you.

You may have lost your sun, but you wouldn't keep drifting away, not anymore.

He wouldn't let that happen.

My love…

Yes?

Eyes on me.

One. Two. Three. Four beats.

Okay.

Dexterous hands pulled you back to Earth, drawing you deeper into his orbit when they fit themselves securely and unfaltering against your waist.

Warm digits kneaded over the celestial wanderer drowned in the tar pit of painful remembrance.

Your senses thickened, your pupils grew wider, and your touch found the nape of his neck, seeking the halo of his comfort.

He was always so comfortable.

Just like coming home to.

He felt at home in you, too.

Another kiss. Gentler. Kinder.

The dark against your fluttered-shut eyelids didn't steal you away from him again, though. He had placed himself firmly around you, with an inevitable gravitational pull, all understanding, warm and welcoming, with the soft press of his entire body against yours.

Your senses heightened — you smelled him, touched him, heard him, felt him. The rhythm of his breath, now softly hitched. His chest, up and down, pulsing with longing. His skin, silvery glow under the moonlight. 

Hiromi smelled…

Well, he smelled like Hiromi.

The best smell there was.

Earthly bound, finally.

His mouth, teeth, lips, all made their way to slit themselves against the edge of your jaw.

May I?

Please.

One, two, three, four beats.

A sharp exhale leaves your lips as his teeth sink against the softness of your chin, crawling up to your mouth, hot breaths mixing with one another, two stardust clouds melting together.

He bit your bottom lip and let it go, then brushed his own mouth against yours. So feathery. So delicate.

Another kiss.

You lock against each other with little to no exploration — you've walked these paths before. You do so with the soft embrace of familiarity. The velvety reassurance of known lovers.

All to the gravitational beat that surrounded you both.

You grasped each other's hands against your clothes, and gentle as could be, the fabric slowly unraveled itself from your bodies, sliding their delicate way down the floor, forgotten.

Hiromi began nosing his way down your skin, but your hands cupped his jaw, pulling him back.

A pause.

Four heartbeats.

Eyes on me, remember?

A huff, almost a laugh, and the kindest peck.

Okay, my love.

His hand made its way under the duvet, all electric, and liquid, and cold, and hot, pressing the air out of your lungs. He was happy to inhale you in, open-mouthed and muddy, as you hitched and whimpered to his rhythm.

You were quick to fall apart, undoing to him, arching your entire body. Almost losing yourself.

But he pulled you back, the other hand resting over your shoulder blades, remembering you.

Eyes on me.

As you tried descending yourself, he held you back. 

This time, it would be all about you.

Gently pulling you under, his thumbs brushed against your shoulders with tenderness. His eyes flickered with trepidation and affection, as your foreheads pressed to one another. Hiromi pushed and sunk slowly into you, hooked nose snuggled beside yours.

To say he was making love to you wouldn’t be wrong, but paled in comparison to this.

He was loving you tenderly, honestly, just so you could take some of that love he poured into you and give it to yourself, filling the gaping hole left behind by an abrupt absence. The forever and always empty seat in the front row of your life.

He pleaded internally, please, may this be enough.

He was loving you so wholeheartedly, giving you all the warmth you offered to most people but yourself, that you could’ve wept — you probably did, the dampening on his cheek brushing against yours made that evident.

"Touch me." Love me.

"Yes." I do. I will.

Hiromi tried, kind and gentle, loving this grief into vanishing, willing it into non-existence. 

My love. My whole, entire love.

But he couldn't, it was engraved in black all over your flesh, your bones, and your soul.

Each kiss while he wrapped his arms around you, tucking you underneath him, was an attempt at chipping away on your armor of pain and loss.

As he rocked your hips gently, he imprinted on your skin every inch of affection you needed to soothe yourself, but you were finding it difficult to pick up these pieces and ensemble the puzzle.

You found it hard to let all your guilt go, after all. It was already an old companion of sorts.

Drinking your voice in as you tipped over the fall, he thought for a moment, could I steal her pain away?

He'd do it in a single heartbeat if he could, if only to repay you for saving him after he had gone past the point of no return.

Some days after that, coming back to this moment, you would finally understand other people's shortcomings from a deeply personal and subjective perspective.

It was hard, after all, being forgiven without forgiving yourself.

Tag list (that I keep forgetting, sorry): @yammy-yammy-yama @g-kleran @otomesass

Reblog divider by @benkeibear

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 5 MATCH 4

Derek propaganda:

“Extreme hot take but Derek is the best OL1 love interest. He has the best and sweetest confession in the game. You play video games together. He seems reserved until you actually start dating and find out that he's actually just a gentleman who didn't want to be overly forward with someone he's not in a relationship with. He's a family man. You get to blatantly abuse your 'dating' privileges in front of his brothers. He's just so insanely sweet and caring and makes me wanna cry whenever I play his DLC.”

“- Impossible to dislike

- No, like, literally impossible. OL1 will allow you to be indifferent to it's two other LIs, Cove and Baxter but you actually can't pick that option for Derek. Game decided that You Will Be (at least) Friends With Derek

- This boy is so good!!!! He's a sweetheart and has your back in the best way and he's constantly doing his best to make sure the people around him (especially you) are happy

- This is also a complex flaw of his because he feels like he needs to be the best that he can be and to be worth something

- This both manifests in how he treats others (he's exceedingly well-mannered and does everything for others because he secretly hopes that someday someone will do the same for him) and his career prospects (he takes on excessive practice to get good at football/soccer so that he can potentially get a scholarship and become famous all so he can potenially feel like he's worth something. This is actually a major conflict in his Step 4)

- His DLC also has some of the best moments in the game

- He also has a family and they're also really good and you get to see a lot of them

- His dad is hilarious, his mom is gorgeous and their relationship is very cute

- Meanwhile, Derek's brothers are great. I wanna gush about them because I love them but also play Derek's DLC yourself!!! See how good they are for yourself!!!!

- I will say that these three have a really good relationship dynamic and the development it takes in the 10 years between when you first meet Jorge and Nico as little kids to Step 4 where they're adults (and a teenager, Nico is 16 in Step 4) is genuinely very well written

- If you're into the steamy stuff, Derek also has the best make-out session out of all of the boys

- He's also just. Very funny. This boy will invite you to a waterpark and then ask you if its a date so he knows whether or not it's ok to check you out in your swimsuit

- Or, if you aren't dating by that point (but you do want to to date him), the narration will note how he's trying so so hard not to check you out, he's just trying so so so hard

- Puppy dog face. Look at it. Tell me you can look at that face and not want to smooch him

- His confession is also the best, did I mention it's the best? Because it's absolutely the best one in the entire game

- He has a whole thing about having to confess to you on a ferris wheel and he's so committed to it that he actually avoided ferris wheels for a long time before this confession because he promised himself he'd do it the next time he went on one

- And then he went on one...and he literally doesn't confess when he does it because he lost track of time and he had to get off

- so he asks you to go on the ferris wheel with him again so he can actually confess this time

Just. Just vote for him!!!!”

“He's sweet, polite, and out-going and is always willing to put you first (sometimes too willing).”

“polite responsible jock u r NOT immune to this”

Asra propaganda:

“He GIVES AWAY HALF HIS HEART TO REVIVE YOU okay but like. He's the MCs roommate and they were together for a few years before the MC caught a plague and died and he obsesses over a way to bring them back before succeeding by making a deal with a god to trade half his heart for MC and betraying the emperor. And then when MC comes back but without any of their memories, he takes care of them and teaches them how to live all over again and he never asks for anything in return. On all the routes where you don't choose him he's really supportive and helps you out despite your history and overall he's just really nice and supportive of the MC and is their rock no matter what route you go down. Also he has a pet snake named Faust and I love her she's so <33 

Idk I just appreciate him so much”

"He gave you half his HEART!! He would literally go to hell and back for you!! He wants to take you on adventures all around the world—doesn’t matter where, as long as he’s by your side!! AND he’s nonbinary!!!"

[beneathsilverstars]

been doing research on writing plural systems for sif+loop in mundane modern aus, and i think i've got a solid idea of what i want to do! specifics may vary by au but i wanted a base set of headcanons to vary from, so sif+loop being a system can be a background fact of my au musings instead of something i have to reinvent every time.

(i'm a singlet so if any systems have concrit or thoughts they want to share i'd be happy to hear it! i'm not like planning a fic or anything currently, but it's still nice to not be working off of misconceptions for my silly little posts.)

siffrin took over as the main host in their late teens and doesn't remember anything from before that. in their early-mid 20s their work/housing situation was horrible and when they couldn't take another day like that, siffrin split into loop (who kept the mid 20s memories, with a new personality) and siffrin take two (who remembers the 17-20 era a bit better, but then there's a big gap). between the two of them they were able to cope better and hold a not-as-awful job and get a shitty apartment all to themselves!

siffrin fronts more often on average, because they're better at quietly accomplishing day-to-day tasks. but if he gets too overwhelmed or anxious (think their mini loop-backs in canon) then loop takes over, bc loop dgaf about some of the things siffrin worries about, and doesn't shut down as easily. but since they don't bottle up their feelings as severely, they're more likely to react outwardly and make rash choices like quitting their job, being rude, splurging on little treats, etc. so that's why siffrin is the default fronter for things like work and chores, when he's feeling up to it.

loop is fairly aware of what's going on while siffrin is fronting - sometimes they choose to tune more of it out, but they can catch most of it if they want to, and sometimes siffrin will talk to them or nudge them to pay attention. since they know at least the basics of what siffrin was up to, they can usually step in pretty smoothly when they need to take over! and it's very easy for them to take over, with or without siffrin's say-so, though they try to ask if it's not an emergency (and if it is an emergency, siffrin is likely trying to back away from the front anyway).

when loop is fronting, though, siffrin is entirely away, dreaming in the void. loop can nudge them for a vague opinion or relevant memory, but they can't hold a full conversation and they're not aware of what loop's doing. when loop puts them in the front again they're usually disoriented and need a moment for loop to tell them what's been happening. and again, loop is the one deciding to switch; sometimes siffrin might resist getting pulled back if they're still feeling bad, or get antsy and start reaching out if they've been asleep a while or are having bad dreams, but they're not gonna react to environmental situations since they're not aware of them.

mal is in there too but doesn't front. its role is to be socially hyper-vigilant, pointing out when other people might be upset at them so the alter who's fronting knows to fix it or avoid the person. it's been around longer than siffrin, and was helpful way back then, but now that siffrin and loop have worked out an effective balance and are fairly safe, mal's behavior is somewhat maladaptive (ha!). it's not super directly aware of the outside world like loop is, not anymore at least, but it does get secondhand memories from both siffrin and loop. it actually sometimes remembers facts and details that sif and loop both quickly forgot, because maybe those details will end up relevant to spotting and avoiding future problems - but since it got the memories secondhand and filtered them through a particularly paranoid worldview, it's likely to misremember subjective interpretations as literal truth, so you gotta take its claims with a grain of salt.

it mostly hangs out in the void imagining fractals and whatnot these days, keeping an eye on siffrin while they sleep. it occasionally perks up and chimes in with its pessimistic point of view when siffrin is really upset - it can communicate better with sleeping siffrin than loop can. loop is not on speaking terms with it because they're mad that it goes behind loop's back and makes siffrin more upset right when loop is trying to shield him from the upsetting situation. but siffrin doesn't mind it bc it's just trying to help in its own way, and sometimes it is helpful to face their fears in plain words instead of avoiding them. and siffrin will sometimes ask it for help with like, puzzles, because it's good at pattern recognition.

there's also a no-longer-quite-dormant alter that presumably fronted for much of the body's childhood. they don't hang out in siffrin and mal's void, and they don't talk to anyone else within the system. but now that the system is more safe and stable, every once in a while something will catch their attention and they'll gently push to the front and start talking. as soon as their train of thought is interrupted they're gone again, and the other alters don't even remember that they got usurped for a moment, a la siffrin's bits of telling childhood anecdotes in canon. loop and siffrin have surmised that they exist, and call them the lost one.

mal has also implied that there's at least one more dormant alter, but it's from before siffrin-and-loop's time and possibly mal's as well.

if something happens that's so distressing that siffrin retreats into headspace and loop won't take over either, the body goes into dissociated autopilot. it will follow basic one-step instructions (such as "follow me" or "eat this"), speak in a couple simple scripts (such as answering "how are you" with "i'm fine"), and complete rote tasks such as taking a familiar route home from work or going to bed. loop doesn't pay much attention because that would defeat the point / put them back in front, so they usually have very little if any idea of what happened in this state, but it is possible for outside events to catch their attention enough for them to try fronting again. otherwise they'll be back next time the body wakes up. siffrin, on the other hand, usually won't front for at least a day or two after this happens, and will likely have forgotten the events leading up to it as well.

it doesn't happen very often since it's the very last resort, after siffrin dissociating, loop taking over, and loop dissociating. loop and siffrin don't consider the autopilot an alter because it doesn't form memories, have emotions or opinions, or interact in the headspace; it just follows where it's led, by habit or outside influence. loop has argued in favor of trying to imbue it with more personhood so it's less uncanny for other people to interact with and can get loop's attention when the distressing thing is over, but siffrin argues that if it can think that defeats the point, and they'd just end up with this new alter and a new autopilot.

past all that, the specifics will depend on the exact au; particularly the ratio of loop time to siffrin time will depend on how much siffrin works and how awful their job is, whether siffrin and/or loop have friends yet, etc. but i think when they're doing pretty well they'd be happy with siffrin doing work/chores and most of the activities that they both enjoy (since then they'll both remember it), and loop fronting for maybe a third of their free time to do their own thing, and maybe here and there if something goes wrong at work. and then if siffrin starts feeling burnt out, they swap for a couple days of loop doing most things and siffrin just coming out for an hour or two. siffrin and mal probably talk maybe a couple times a month, unless siffrin is really going through it, in which case they might talk a lot for a couple days. it also might be possible for mal to eventually adapt a little more to being safe, and start providing a wider range of possible interpretations instead of just the worst case scenario.

ok that's all! and as i said, i'm totally open to feedback. :3

[nekokoaa]

The Agreement - Miguel O'Hara x Therapist!Reader (I)

Summary: It was simple. No kissing. No sex. Hugs and hand-holding only. The goal was to help Miguel feel a little less lonely sometimes. That was your job as one of the therapists at HQ, to mentally stabilize everyone’s mind, including the boss’s.

In other words, you and Miguel make a deal.

Rated Explicit, fluff, smut

1.3K words | (1/5) chapters

Author's notes: Yes I came back just to jump on the Miguel train! :) I love Across the Spider-verse and I love Miguel. I just wanna comfort him and I’m sure you do too! Enjoy!

Also on AO3

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

I.

It started as an agreement and then came the first session. Honestly, you’ve seen your fair share of trauma being a therapist for Spider-people, hell, you’ve even gone through it yourself. Losing Aunt May, Peter L. Parker, and then Harry… you were never the same again. Yet you learned how to cope, how to survive. You made trauma your bitch and it was all due to understanding your psyche. And… also because of your Ph.D. in psychology. So it wasn’t a surprise that your schedule was always packed with various spider-people from different dimensions. Everyone wanted to know your secret. Everyone wanted to know how you were able to move on. It was the same story—different variations, sometimes in a different order. It was plaguing their minds, some coped by burying their heads in their work, others just lived with the guilt. But a few, like Miguel, were always reliving it.

Miguel O’Hara. Spider-Man 2099. You didn’t know much about him other than the fact that he was undergoing the same canon-event trauma as the other Spider-people. You didn’t know which ones since he never shared it in his first mandatory session. The only thing he was willing to share was his desire for a family and the mistake he made that cost an entire dimension to collapse.

Later, his sessions felt more like a briefing of your work, gauging the mental state of all spider-people to know if they're capable of working. You would always tell him the session was supposed to be about him but he would brush it off, saying he had too much work to do before leaving your office. And as always, you would watch his retreating back. His shoulders looked so broad, they could hold mountains—perhaps holding the weight of the multiverse could do that to you. A wise man once told you, “with great power comes great responsibility—strength, resilience.” But you knew what great power could also do to a man.

If the loneliness spewing from his demeanor wasn’t obvious enough.

Today it was your turn to enter Miguel’s office. Upside down, you tread along the ceiling, your hair obeying gravity and hanging limply in the air.

His office was mostly dark with an orange glow from the holograms in front of his monitors. You didn’t miss when he quickly swiped one of them away, his back stilling.

You were sure Miguel already knew you were here.

You lowered yourself with your web, turning your body upright until your feet reached the floor of the floating platform. He turned his head, not enough to look at you but enough to acknowledge your presence. His shoulders look wider— trembling even. 

Sadness? You stepped forward and he turned back to face the monitors, fingers tapping away against the orange holograms. No, it was anger.

Minutes went by of silence until Miguel’s hands dramatically dropped to his sides, sighing. “What are you doing here?”

You smiled lightly, stepping forward. “Our first session, remember?”

“Don’t tell me you were serious about that,” he spitted out, hands returning to the holograms. He was investigating an anomaly that appeared on Earth-55, it was probably that villain belonging to Earth-1001. Lately, he’s been jumping from dimension to dimension, and not because he had the ability to do so. Miguel’s been tracking him down for days and trying to figure out what could be causing the rifts in the dimensions. 

Meaning: he hasn’t been getting any sleep.

Miguel was a spider-man shouldering the very existence of all spider-people universes. With the connections of fate being as fragile as a spider’s web, a day of rest could be detrimental.

To feel as though you’re the only Spider-Man in the room while being surrounded by spider-people who understood you the most was a feeling Miguel was too familiar with. He never mentioned it in his sessions but you could see it in how he carried himself in front of his agents, how he stared at Peter B and Mayday, and how he looked when you first caught him rewatching himself with “his” daughter. Certainly, he was reliving his trauma.

“Of course,” you stepped forward until you stood directly behind him. His body stilled when your arms slowly encircled his waist. You could feel his muscles tensing. His fingers froze in the air. The orange glow from the holograms deepened like it was spreading to your bodies. “Weren’t you?”

You whispered and Miguel didn’t say a thing. Of course, he was warm like you imagined when you were preparing yourself for this. The scowl on his face often gave an impression that he was as cold as he looked. But he was very much alive like the rest of you—alive with emotions.

When you suggested he seek affection from someone to mend his trauma (that he never admitted having), he looked at you dumbfounded.

“Sometimes all we need is a hug, maybe a hand to hold to get rid of those troublesome feelings.”

And when you suggested that “someone” could be you, Miguel thought you were losing your sanity. It was no easy feat to convince him of the agreement. It took a few weeks until you got a very very annoyed “Okay” from him, probably to stop you from always bringing it up whenever you saw him.

It was simple. No kissing. No sex. Hugs and hand-holding only. The goal was to help Miguel feel a little less lonely sometimes. That was your job as one of the therapists at HQ, to mentally stabilize everyone’s mind, including the boss’s.

You rested your head against the middle of his back, arms tightening around him. You expected him to say something but he stayed silent, reddish-brown eyes staring into the monitors. It wasn’t just Miguel who was warm, but the space around you too—like the energy had shifted the moment you touched him. 

Your skin under your suit started to prickle as if it was being pinched. The orange tinge of the holograms slowly blended into a deep red, the temperature rising as sweat appeared at your temple. Miguel could probably feel your heart rattling against his back. But like a rock, his muscles tensed up and his hands closed into fists.

Everything in your mind was telling you to let him go but you held on despite sensing the anger rising within him. Since losing his “daughter”, Miguel had closed himself to affection. Usually responding in annoyance or anger if he were to receive it. He had accepted his destiny long ago of being a loner. And any ounce of affection reminded him of his loss—and what he could lose.

Miguel’s hand moved on top of yours. Hissing in pain, you pulled your arms away from his body and immediately looked at your hand. His claws had pricked you. Thankfully, there was no blood.

“Session’s over, doc. That’s enough.” His voice was laced with venom. This time he partly turned to look at you and your heart sank seeing his deep red eyes. The outline of his figure was stained by the burgundy hue of the holograms. Perhaps the trauma of Miguel O’Hara was deeper than you thought. Your spidey senses were telling you to get out of there. This time you listened.

“Okay,” you shot your web towards the ceiling, quickly propelling yourself up and out of his office. Miguel sighed, burying his head in his hands before returning to his work.

Next Chapter

[wheels-of-despair]

Munson v. O'Donnell Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: It's 1986, and Eddie Munson's long high school career has come down to O'Donnell's final… and Evil Woman believing in him. Contains: Tears, comfort, lunch, confrontation, and a happy ending. Words: 2k A sort-of companion fic to Case of the Missing Eddie, but it's not required reading.

Eddie's not at the Hellfire table at lunch.

Or in his van.

This could only mean one thing: He's in the woods, because his final exam in O'Donnell's class did not go well.

With a quick look around to make sure you aren't being watched, you duck into the woods by way of the parking lot. You'll take the long way around to go undetected by any staff trying to catch students skipping the last few days of school.

Not that it matters, anyway. Everybody's just fucking around and killing time now that exams are over.

You traipse along the trail toward the picnic table where Eddie conducts business. And sometimes hides out at when things aren't going great. When you enter the clearing, you see him hunched over the table, his head resting on crossed arms and his face hidden by a mop of unruly hair.

"Hey," you announce your presence quietly before straddling the bench beside him. "You okay?"

He heaves a sigh so deep, it feels like he's expelled all the air from your lungs as well as his own.

You place a comforting hand on his back and lean your other elbow on the table.

"What happened?" you whisper.

"Take a wild guess," he grumbles, turning his head away from you.

He got his exam results, alright. You start rubbing slow circles on his back.

"How bad?"

"Fourteen."

"What?"

"Fourteen," he repeats.

"You got fourteen wrong?"

"Percent."

"Hm?"

"I got 14%."

"How the fuck did you get 14%?!" You regret your tone instantly.

"I don't fucking know!" His voice cracks, and so does your heart.

"Baby, we studied for that so hard, there's no way--"

"It doesn't fucking matter," he snaps, still facing away from you. "She humiliated me. 'Mr. Munson, congratulations on the lowest score I've ever had the displeasure to grade. It's a pity the girl who's been doing your homework couldn't take your exam for you, too.' Made everyone's day. Cemented my place as the dumbest fucking student to ever step foot in this shithole."

You shake with rage, clenching your fists in an effort to keep your hands still. You're going to kill them all.

"It doesn't fucking matter," he repeats, lifting his head for a moment. "I'm not going back. Fuck it. I quit." He crosses his arms and rests his head on them again, letting out a long sigh.

You watch him deflate and put a pin in your rage. He doesn't need you to go on a rampage right now. He needs you to be rational, and to fix this. Your killing spree can wait.

"Okay," you whisper, returning your hand to his back and leaning over to place a kiss on his shoulder. You wait a beat. "Do you still have the test?"

"Scantron."

"Do you have it?"

He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a green and white ball, and drops the crumpled paper on the table without looking at you.

You straighten it out and look it over. Maybe he missed a question early on and was off by one line on the rest? No, there are exactly 50 things filled in. And they're filled in nice and dark, with the shiny new #2 pencil you'd given him that morning for luck. You studied this material with him for weeks. He knows this stuff. You'll have to take it to O'Donnell and investigate.

"You eat lunch?"

"Not hungry," he grumbles.

"You will be next period."

"What's the fucking point?" he spits.

"I'm going to see O'Donnell after school, we're gonna figure this out," you say calmly. His lunchbox is nowhere in sight, so you pull out your own and start arranging items on the table.

"Don't fucking bother."

"Shut up and eat your fucking lunch," you order.

He finally lifts his head and looks at you. His eyes are bloodshot. The tip of his nose is red. Eddie Munson tried so hard to to convince people he didn't care, but it was all bullshit. He was trying this year. He was really trying. You know, because you helped him study before every test. Even in the few classes you didn't share. He knew the material. And you weren't leaving school grounds until you cleared up this 14% bullshit.

"Look," you begin gently, closing your hand over his on the table. "I don't know what happened on exam day, but I know you did not get a fourteen. You worked so hard. I know you know this stuff. So we're gonna go see that old hag, and we're gonna figure this out." His eyes begin to water again. Your voice turns serious. "Or I'm gonna burn Hawkins High to the fucking ground, with all our records inside. Then we all get to start over."

The corner of his mouth twitches. There he is.

"C'mon, eat up. We need fuel if we're gonna go slay the O'Donnell Dragon."

He hesitates, so you lift a cookie to his mouth. Chocolate chip, baked by your mom; his favorite. He looks at it, then at you, and pouts.

"Eat it or wear it, Munson." You try to sound threatening, but your smile betrays you.

He leans forward and takes it with his teeth, eyes twinkling with mischief instead of tears now. It's a good start.

~ Three Hours Later ~

"You wanna wait outside?"

Eddie shakes his head. He's met you outside of Mrs. O'Donnell's classroom after the final bell, as instructed, and he's looking more nervous than he did the morning before taking the exam.

"Alright. C'mon."

You feel him trail behind you as you enter Mrs. O'Donnell's classroom. She's sitting at her desk with an open gradebook and a calculator. She's not even your teacher, why are you so nervous? Is this what Eddie had to deal with every day for... how many years?

"Mrs. O'Donnell?" you ask, summoning all your courage for Eddie.

"Yes?"

"We're here to discuss 14%."

"I don't think there's anything to discuss," she sniffs, pursing her lips and pushing her glasses further up her nose. She's waiting for you to state your case.

"He knows this. We made flash cards, I quizzed him every night. There's no way he scored that low."

She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. Like you'd lie about fucking flash cards.

"Can I see the test, at least, so I can find out what he's having trouble with?"

Mrs. O'Donnell sighs and sifts through a pile of papers on her desk. "A or B?"

You look at Eddie's scantron sheet to find his version of the test, neatly printed right below his name. "A."

She hands you a copy of the A test.

You take the paper to a desk near the front of the room and lay the scantron sheet next to the test. Your eyes dart from each question to Eddie's filled-in scantron sheet… and become more puzzled with each correct answer.

You look at Eddie, who's leaning against the wall and staring at his shoes. Mrs. O'Donnell's attention has returned to her gradebook.

"Uh…" you chuckle awkwardly, bringing both the scantron and the test to her desk. "Could you take another look at this, please?"

She sighs and reaches for the papers, holding them on top of her gradebook. Her eyes begin to dart back and forth just like yours had. And then her brow furrows. She reaches for the scantron answer keys and compares them to Eddie's crumpled sheet. Her eyes bulge.

She looks up at Eddie, then back at the papers on her desk. She reaches for a red pen, hunches over, and marks furiously as she grades his test manually. Eddie takes a cautious step closer and holds his breath. This is it. His entire high school career has come down to this one exam.

A moment later, she punches a few numbers into her calculator, scribbles out the 14% on the crumpled sheet, and writes a new number. She circles it twice.

"Mr. Munson?" He tenses at the formality, looking like a deer in headlights a few steps behind you. She beckons him forward with a crook of her finger, and he creeps toward the desk and stands next to you.

She hands him his corrected scantron sheet, and he holds it so you can both see the number circled in red.

92%.

Both of your jaws drop. You look at the grade, and each other, and the grade again, and then finally, Mrs. O'Donnell.

"You had an A test that got mixed in with the B's somehow. I hate that we have to do different tests, but we've got so many sneaky little cheaters in here, administration requires at least two variations for exams. I don't know why my classroom aide didn't catch it, Tina is usually so attentive to detail."

Would that be Tina Thomas, the heir apparent to Chrissy Cunningham's reign as the Queen of Hawkins High? It would be awfully hard for poor Tina to lead the cheer team with broken legs.

"Does this mean I passed the class?" Eddie asks, interrupting O'Donnell's rambling and your violent thoughts.

"One second," she says, flipping to the page of her gradebook where Eddie's fate lies. You reach for his hand, and hold each other in white-knuckle grips while you watch Mrs. O'Donnell work. She uses a bottle of correction fluid to erase the 14%, blows it dry, and replaces it with 92%. Then she punches in a few numbers on her comically large calculator and writes new figures in her gradebook that you can't quite make out. You and Eddie cling to each other and wait on bated breath until she removes her glasses, places them on her desk, and looks up with a crooked smile.

"Congratulations, Mr. Munson, you've finally passed my class."

The whoop that follows can probably be heard in all of Roane County.

After a million thank-you's to both you and Mrs. O'Donnell, who was much nicer to him than usual - although you notice that she never actually apologized for embarrassing him - you finally get Eddie out of her classroom. You walk to the van with his arm around your shoulders, and yours wrapped around his middle.

"I'm gonna graduate. I'm really gonna fucking graduate." He's been grinning so hard for so long, his face probably hurts. "FINALLY!" he yells to the handful of students still lingering in the mostly-empty parking lot, who barely react. They're used to paying him no mind. "Oh man, Wayne's not gonna believe this."

"Think he's up yet?" you ask, looking up at your beaming partner with pride while he fishes his keys out of his pocket.

Eddie glances at his watch and frowns. "Nah, not for another hour, probably. I don't wanna wake him."

"Well, Mr. Munson," you grin, shifting so you're standing in front of him with your hands on his shoulders. "I happen to know an excellent way to kill an hour."

"Oh yeah?" he smirks, stepping closer, backing you up against the side of his van.

"Mhm," you hum, trailing your hands down his chest and stopping at his belt. You find your way beneath the hem of his shirt and trace the skin just above his jeans with your fingertips. "It's not every day a 14% gets turned into a 92%, even for a skilled Dungeon Master such as yourself." He shivers. "Seems like something that should be… celebrated."

He starts nodding, and doesn't stop until he opens the rear door. He uses both of his hands to grab your ass and push you inside when you purposely take too long getting in. You're on your back and laughing when he slams the door and pounces.

Eddie Munson was a very happy soon-to-be-graduate when he dropped you off at home half an hour later.

[judasgot-it]

Ello o/, may i request again (dk if i can tho, don't feel pressured if not maken), really love the post you made for the request my heart literally- aawkwkw, i have so many things to say to that post but really busy asfck like if i wnated to, i could literally write a essay or thesis statement, */ahem anyway

BSD boys, while having a fighting/argument with s/o they suddenly grip they're s/o's wrist too hard and ended up leaving a mark (they didn't mean to tho ;-;) that reminded the reader's past child abuse/not used to this type of conflict which lead to angst to comfort or just angst hehe. Idk this is just a random 2am thought(my time rn) I have classes later waking up at 4am too…

AHHHHHH omg yes I'm so sorry I haven't like set up any request rules yet which I should do lol, but I'm so shehejwj but I don't have limits on requests! I just try to get to them when I can &lt;3 Also I'm so sorry about the late response! College is hard x[

But also, I wanna do some scenarios for this, so I'm gonna have to only pick a few that I feel I can write the best for this if that's ok cause ngl I feel the mercury retrograde rn,,,

Scenario: Accidentally triggering past abuse/trauma during an argument (Ranpo, Dazai)

Ranpo

Ranpo was a rather loud guy. That's not his fault, since he's only loud whenever he has a reason to be - he's confident because he knows he can get away with it. He's smart enough to survive some of the most dangerous killers, and is bold enough to laugh in their face about it too.

But god is it aggravating as hell whenever you want to truly talk to the man one on one. Sometimes, you just want to have a normal date with him - like a normal couple and do normal couple stuff.

Like right now, you just want to walk down this busy street and not have to listen to him boast about how stupid people were. It was embarrassing how loud he was about it, how the person who got hit with a car could have easily avoided it had they just checked both sides of the street.

A normal conversation to have after witnesses a horrible event, but you could feel the stares from across the street from the mans wife. Especially towards Ranpo, who seemed to have no social boundaries as everyone else in the area seemed to instead be occupied with the normal human behavior of freaking out after witnessing a man flying in the air and being hit by a car.

To save face, you dragged him away, with him still talking about it as if it were a normal everyday thing. In his world, it probably was - but not to you. Not to normal people, who didn't think about death everyday.

"Ranpo, you need to quiet down."

"What? I'm just saying. It was pretty avoidable you know?"

You turned around to glare at him, gripping your enclasped hands tightly. He thought nothing of it, swirling his ramune bottle rather casually. The ball clinked around with each step the both of you took together.

"I know that. But you do know that it's pretty insensitive to say that in front of him and the wife who saw her husband get hit with a car."

"Y/n."

You were forced back as Ranpo stopped on the sidewalk. It was apart of a narrow stretch of road, empty and away from the commotion, which forced you to look at him. He was staring at you with his eyes, as if trying to puzzle something.

"You don't actually care about them."

There was a pause. You blinked once. Then twice.

"What do you mean by that?"

He held your hand tighter, almost painfully so.

"You don't really care about them that much. So why are you defending them?"

His viridian eyes bore into yours, which deeply unsettled you. He meant nothing by it, especially with the iron grip he had on your hand which kept you in your spot.

"Because not everyone is a superfreak like you Ranpo!"

But it made you incredibly uncomfortable.

You felt the need to defend yourself, somehow.

"Some people have 'empathy' which I know is a foreign concept to people like you."

It was as he cocked his head to the side, like a crow trying to understand what you had just told him. It was as if what you just said had gone right through him, like the wind.

"You don't mean that."

He pulled you towards him. You tried to step back, but you only found yourself stepping around and trying to find your balance again.

You flinched when Ranpo reached to balance you, but you still felt the energy from your sudden bout of frustration pumping through your body. It was embarrassing, but your mind and body were reacting all on their own.

Ranpo kept staring at you, looking past your angry scowl and into something deeper.

"I'm not your enemy Y/n, I know you're upset but there's something more."

He left you feeling naked there.

"It's not that deep. You don't need to defend yourself against me."

You looked down, avoiding his eyes. The sidewalk underneath you was rather cracked and abandoned - there was a dandelion growing just underneath your feet, a rather resilient flower.

"I'm not defending myself, I'm just..."

Ranpo lifted your chin up so you could meet his eyes again, which were now softer, as they had quickly figured out the puzzle that he's struggled with.

You looked back at him. A part of you wanted to keep arguing - it was in your nature, to keep fighting. Unfortunately, it was something you've done for a long time, which Ranpo has figured out by now.

Another thing that made you feel a little uncomfortable.

He met you with a cheeky smile, like a little rat. He closed his eyes, his cheeks raising to meet his eyes.

"I know. You're a good person Y/n."

Dazai

"I just don't think you understand. I can't expect you to, but it's not your problem, so why are you so upset about it?"

Dazai was looking at you from the couch, watching as you were once again picking up bottles he had left from one of his drinking binges. He still smelled of last night, wearing the same clothes and smelling of the various drinks he had lost himself in.

"It clearly is my problem. I'm the one cleaning up your mess right now, so how could I not be involved? Dear god, do you ever look at yourself and want to even try to be better?"

Dazai looked at you, sitting up from his previous lounging position. He stared up, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at you - his eyebags prominent in the early morning sunlight.

"What do you mean 'try' to be better? Have you ever even known what it's like to be like this?"

You rolled your eyes, dragging the bag to the front door so you could later bring it to the dumpster of your apartments. In your eyes, he was clearly being dramatic - sitting like some sort of mafioso, needing only a cigarette to seal the deal.

"Everyone has had it hard at one point Dazai. Losing yourself to alcohol every night and weekend doesn't justify it. You have a life to live you know? It's worth living."

You heard footsteps approach behind you, and looked up to see Dazai standing a little too close for comfort. His body was warm, and you could see the sweat and stains on his bandages. His hair was usually fluffy hair was greasy, but his eyes - they were dark, simply staring down at you.

"What do you know about living?"

"What?"

He had backed you into the wall, his hands now on either side of you, blocking you from exiting the danger that had become him and whatever emotional rage he had thrown himself into.

"You act like you know so much about life but you know nothing! You don't know anything about death or life - I don't think you know anything at all really. You feel all too comfortable making these assumptions about me when you don't know who I am, do you?"

He was smiling but it didn't reach his eyes at all.

You pushed at him, trying to find space to escape from his hold. His clothes and warmth made you want to burn your skin and run at that moment, and you closed your eyes in order to avoid the worst of your fears as you knew he was staring at you with those eyes that seemed to hold nothing but contempt in that very moment.

When you couldn't break free, instead feeling him pressing himself more against you, you felt your eyes begin to tear up.

"Dazai get the fuck away me."

"Or what? What will you do, oh sweet belladonna?"

You could feel tears build up in your eyes as your pushing did nothing against him - so you resorted to what you knew would work.

You raised your knee as hard as you could, and watched as Dazai fell hard on the ground, falling like a sack of potatoes. He writhed around, clutching his pearls while you gripped your pants, trying to soothe your nerves.

"Dazai I'm..."

You looked around your apartment, looking at the mess that it had become because of him. You looked back down at him, who was still on the ground and wasn't saying anything.

"Dazai I'm going to leave for a bit. Sorry."

I'm so sorry this took so long waaaaahh I'm a slow writer I'm working on it tho ;( also I was thinking about doing Jouno but I felt that it would've been super harsh so maybe I'll do him another time

[cissyenthusiast010155]

I just read your April Fools's fic with Larissa!! I LOVED IT!!! I was wondering if you could write another Larissa/teacher fic with the sex pollen? But maybe this time it could be: they don't like each other at all so they're really trying to understand what's happening and trying to fight it really hard until it's not possible anymore? Pleaseee?☺

Heyyyyy anon!! I feel like what your describing would go really well with enemies to lovers so I sprinkled some of that in there… Hope you enjoy! ❤️‍🔥💋

What the Body Wants Pt. 1 ~Larissa Weems xFem teacher!Reader

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, bit angst, smut, teasing, sex pollen, drugging, eating out, masturbation, voyeaurism, grinding, scissoring, orgasm denial, exhibitionist kink…?, etc.

Enjoy (;

You had been working at Nevermore for multiple years now. And you enjoyed the job a great deal.

For the most part...

You loved the students and the work. The environment of outcasts felt homey to you. And you enjoyed most of your colleagues.

Most...

From the minute your and Larissa Weems’ paths collided, you both knew you were not each others cup of tea. She had taken the position of headmistress in your third year at the school, and the pair of you had immediately come to the conclusion it was best to walk separate paths.

You had a tendency to second guess her decisions...

Larissa had a tendency to undermine you...

It was just a back and forth game of tension and frustration. So you both stayed away. Because when caught in the same room, your colleagues sometimes worried you two would break out into a full-on fist fight. For the most part, this method worked. You didn’t have to see her annoying face or listen to her ongoing speech.

Except for monthly staff meetings.

Those were inevitable and miserable… A time where you both had to suck it up and sit in a room together for hours at a time...

Today was no exception. You sighed as you entered the dreaded meeting, plopping down in your usual seat with a huff. Larissa gave you a side eye, which you kindly returned with a light glare. The meeting droned on and you could focus on any of it. Your mind was on one thing: Larissa.

Every time she stood up to speak…

Every time to rustled her notes…

Every time she goddamn breathed it set you off…

Finally, the meeting came to its agonizing end. You made a beeline for the door the second Larissa had dismissed the group. As you exited, Marilyn pulled you aside into a corner of the corridor.

“Hey Y/N, Can I talk with you for a second?” She asked.

“Yea, Marilyn, what’s up?”

“I’m doing a small get together Saturday morning with only a few people for some tea that I made myself!” Marilyn eagerly explained, “I was wondering if you would join me??”

You lightly smiled at how bright and eager Marilyn could be.

“Sure, Mar. I’d love that.”

“Great! See you tomorrow at 9 then!”

At that, Marilyn walked away with a skip, and you went in the opposite direction. From a distance you swore u heard Mariltn saying “Larissa! So glad you decided to join us tomorrow!”

But you brushed it off, as Larissa playing tricks with your mind again.

She had a tendency to do that…

Getting in your head…

Anyways, eventually Saturday morning rolled around…

At 8:50, you began walking down to Marilyn’s Greenhouses. As you walked near, you could hear voices in the Greenhouse already. You opened the latch to the foggy glass door and stepped in. But you stopped in your tracks at what you saw…

Marilyn was serving tea to Larissa… You gulped and tried to think of any possible excuse to get out of this. You couldn’t think of one.

Marilyn had cornered you.

And Larissa.

“Y/N! I’m so glad your here, come in! Larissa and I just started to pour some tea!” Marilyn exclaimed with a hint of mischievousness in the twinkle of her eyes.

You walked in and sat. And you said nothing. Larissa also had become silent the second she had seen you.

Her eyes had widened and her breath had fled from her…

“Here, have some tea!” Marilyn said, pouring you the same cup as Larissa’s.

Again, the greenhouse went silent.

“Please, do drink! I’d really like to know what you guys think!” Marilyn pled with excitement.

You both, not wanting to disappoint Marilyn and trying to find anything to avoid the tension, began to sip your teas. After a few minutes of awkward silence and sipping of tea, Marilyn got up and announced something.

“I think I forgot something in my… other greenhouse! Be right back!”, before leaving the two of you. And closing the door, with a click.

“No Mar, wait!” You yelled, getting up to follow Marilyn.

But when you reached the door, it was locked. In frustration, you pulled on it harder, but it wouldn’t budge. Larissa sighed in annoyance, “Let me try.”

You rolled your eyes and backed up with your hands up.

“Alright, but it won’t open. She’s locked it.” you gritted out.

Now it was Larissa’s turn to roll her eyes as she used her strength to tug at the door. Nothing. You were stuck. For who knows how long. Larissa let out a grunt in frustration.

What other sounds could that pretty mouth make…?

You cringed as you realized your internal thought. Not knowing what to do and feeling a bit lightheaded, you decided it would be best to sit back down.

Your heart race had picked up, which could very logically be explained by the fact that Marilyn had trapped you in a greenhouse with Larissa Weems… In any rate, you unconsciously picked up the tea cup and began sipping it.

You were nervous and the tea wasn’t actually that bad. It tasted like crisp winter with waves of spicey warmth, a sweet but tangy kick to the flavor…

Kind of what Larissa might taste like…

You physically cringed now, having to compose yourself from your rampant thoughts. You noted that your heart rate had now doubled in its pace… And was it getting a bit too hot in here…? You lightly fanned yourself with your hand, while taking another sip of your tea.

“Put the tea down.”

The voice came out of nowhere, but it was clearly Larissa. You swiveled your head, still holding the tea, to meet the woman’s gaze. For the first time, you actually took the time to take the woman standing in front of you in…

You noticed the beads of sweat rolling down her face…

You noticed her hair frizzing more than usual…

You noticed her pursed, plump lips…

“Sorry…?” You tried to snark, but your voice faltered.

“I said to put the tea down.” Larissa repeated in her usual demeaning and stern tone.

“Why? It’s actually quite good, you should try some.” You quipped back.

“I did. All of it, and that’s the problem.” She gritted out almost growling, her voice shifting down an octave.

Now you were really confused. And hot. Fuck was it hot in this greenhouse. You placed your now empty tea cup on the table with a emphasized slam.

“Happy now?”

Larissa chuckled, “No, not in the slightest.”

You groaned in frustration, “God Larissa, that was a hypothetical question…”

Larissa rolled her eyes at you, as you caught a falter in her step. She too sat down quickly.

“Are you alright?”

“No. I have been trying to tell you.” She seethed.

“Oh for fucks, sake! What is your fucking problem?” You raised your volume.

“Must you be so crass?” She bit back.

“Yes! Now are you going to tell me or not??” You practically yelled.

“Lower your voice.” Larissa commanded, lowering her own voice even more.

You only now noticed your sweating and that your heart race was furious at this point. And that Larissa’s words went straight to your core.

What?? Why?? How?? This made no sense…

You clenched your fists in frustration at the woman and groaned in response. When you had had your moment, Larissa continued,

“I think we’ve been drugged. I think the tea was some sort of ambrosiac…”

Your ears pricked up at this, and your head immediately swiveled back to the blonde.

“Sorry, what?” You genuinely asked, needing to process her words.

“Marilyn drugged us, Y/N. I do not know why and I certainly do not understand why she would lock us in here for it, but regardless, we don’t know the extent of the drug or any of the intentions along with it.”

You just laughed at this. You couldn’t help yourself, you burst out in laughter. Larissa was puzzled and stunned.

“Is this funny to you??” She demanded, vexed that you weren’t taking this as serious as she was.

“Yes… Yes, actually it is…” you chuckled, trying and managing to control your outburst.

“Do enlighten me about what is so funny about a staff member drugging two other colleagues and locking them in a greenhouse….” Larissa seethed.

Your mind was reeling and all over the place. You couldn’t control what did and didn’t come out of your mouth at this point.

“It’s funny that you don’t understand why Marilyn did this! I mean come on, she gives us an ambrosiac tea and locks us in her greenhouse…??” You suggestively say to Larissa.

But blank eyes stared back at you. Not blank actually, fiery and seething…

“She wants us to fuck, Larissa!!” You blurted out in laughter.

But as soon as those words left your mouth, you realized your own conclusion and immediately stopped laughing. The room seemed awfully tense now… And oddly spinning…? Now it was Larissa’s turn to have a burst of laughter,

“You…You can’t be serious…!” She laughed.

You bit your lip, feeling very bouncy and energetic all of a sudden.

“Yep.” You simply stated, as you stood up.

Larissa could not contain her amusement.

“And why on earth would Marilyn want that?”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“Do you want it?” She pointedly asked.

You turned around to face her at the bizarre seeming statement.

“No. Do you?”

“Not in the slightest.” She replied.

You hummed in response. Your heart rate was still through the roof and you had started to sweat. You were also getting hotter by the minute.

So hot you just wanted to rip the clothes right off your body…

“So I suppose we will just have to wait for the ambrosiac to wear off.” Larissa decisively stated.

You took a moment to respond, needing to lean against a table to help ground your breathing, “Yes, it seems that way…”

Larissa was in a similar state, holding onto a desk to keep herself grounded.

“It’s oddly hot in here isn’t it?” You huffed.

“Yes it is…”

And before you could stop yourself, you were speaking,

“Would you mind if I took my shirt off?”

Silence. You immediately cringed yet again and quickly tried to explain yourself,

“Not in any sexual way, I just meant that It’s far too hot in here for me! Only if your comfortable with—”

“Sure.” was the simple response you received.

Larissa couldn’t ask the same thing as she was wearing a dress.

Although, you certainly wouldn’t mind her asking and complying…

Taking your mind back out of the gutter, you removed your shirt. A slight gasp came from across the room, and your head shot up. You found an almost stunned looking Larissa with a slight blush on her cheeks.

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“I like your bra.”

She likes your black laced bra…

You wonder whether she’d like it on the floor even more…

“Thanks.”

Now you were left in your bra and trousers, and your body still burning with heat… You started pacing the room. The wind made your skin go a little less crazy…

Larissa groaned again in frustration and got up to start banging on the greenhouse door. At one point she determined that her efforts were fruitless as she went to go and sat back down again.

But along the way, you both clumsily ran into each other. You gripped Larissa’s forearms for support and the contact with her skin made your mind go dizzy. She meanwhile had grabbed your torso and arm to keep you from falling.

Now you both stood there in silence, not breaking the connection. All the pain and overwhelming heat went away.

And then Larissa broke from the trance and quickly pulled back from the contact. A slight whimper escaped your lips as the waves of heat and dizziness and overwhelmingness hit you again only they were intensified.

And a very strong ache in between your legs was becoming more and more apparent… You looked over to Larissa who staggered and then sat herself done again.

“There… There has to be an antidote somewhere here…” you panted, your breathing now labored and short.

“Already checked. Nothing that I could find...” Larissa responded in a strained tone.

“Fuck…” you whimpered, the pain in your body getting worse, “I can’t take much more of this… I feel like I’m about to combust…”

“I have an idea…” Larissa spoke out hesitantly.

You nodded and hummed in her direction.

“We… Maybe if we sated ourselves, then it would go away…?” She barely whispered.

You looked at the blonde with your hodded eyes and cocked an eyebrow at her, “You’re taking about you fucking yourself and me fucking myself just in the middle of this greenhouse in front of each other?”

Larissa’s face contorted at your choice of words yet again, but her expression quickly changed to a serious one, “Yes.”

You hummed in response. Your body was so on fire. Your mind told you no to Larissa’s idea but your body was screaming yes.

“Ok.” you shakily breathed out, “We’ll just do our own things I assume, then?”

“Yes…” Larissa met your breathy voice.

You nodded in response and leaned back in your chair a bit to get comfortable. You unbuttoned your trousers and snuck your hand down until your fingers reached your knickers. Your body was in a frenzy and hyper needy, so the second you slipped your finger into your aching cunt, you couldn’t help the moan of relief that escaped your lips.

Up to this point, Larissa had just been unabashedly staring at you. Your moan had sent sparks straight to her core. It woke her back up from her trance. Larissa rolled up her dress and removed her knickers easily.

You glanced over to the blonde, while you were fucking yourself in the way you knew your body responded best, and you found a direct view of the blonde having scrunched up her dress and her fingers skillfully circling her clit.

And when she inserted her own finger into her cunt… Oh God, you swore you could have cum right then and there from the pornographic moan that Larissa let out…

You both continued your administrations, becoming more and more enveloped in the lust of it all. You found yourself staring at Larissa as she fucked herself, taking in all her little whimpers, cries, and moans. And vice versa. Larissa couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off of you.

Before either of you knew it and out of knowhere, you were both cumming with strangled cries and moans. You panted heavily and looked over to the blissed out blonde who looked heavenly. You had seen her when you came… The tightness and pain in your body seemed to be gone.

“Fuck…” Larissa breathlessly chuckled with small smile on her face.

Her explicit words ignited the fire back into your core and it all came back…

“OhHhhH shit…” you groaned as the wave of everything that was too much hit you once more.

Your words seemed to trigger Larissa as the smile was quick to fade from her face as her face contorted back into the pain filled frame from mere minutes ago.

“I don’t think it worked…” you groaned, having fallen to the floor and cradling yourself in some attempt of comfort.

“It seemed to for a while…” Larissa groaned right back, “I thought it would work…”

“I know. It was worth a try.” You comforted the frustrated blonde who was leaning against the table leg and spread out on the floor.

Silence ensued.

“I saw you…” you whispered.

“Sorry?”

“It felt better when I came and saw you…” you confessed, having to close your eyes because it was all becoming too much.

There was no response for a minute or so.

“I…I saw you too…” Larissa confesses in a hushed tone.

At her words, you moved to cradling yourself in a upwards position on the floor and met Larissa’s stunning yet glazed over sapphire eyes.

“My body wants you…” you confessed with a deep breath and your eyes looking down to the ground.

“And your mind?” She asked.

“I don’t know what my mind wants.” you whispered.

“That makes sense. The aphrodisiac most likely has the power to affect the body but not—”

Larissa didn’t have the chance to finish her thought as you and lunged forward and crashed your lips into hers. Larissa’s response was immediate, moving you to straddle her lap, she moaned into the kiss.

You pulled away after a minute having doubts, breathlessly panting, “I’m sorry. This doesn’t make sense.”

You went to pull away, but Larissa grabbed your hips and ground them against her own. You both let out embarrassingly loud moans, making Larissa tilt her head back with a small smirk,

“I think it makes perfect sense… We only feel better when we’re in direct contact… and right now, I think your wearing far too many articles of clothing…” she lustfully purred.

Larissa continued to grind her hips into yours, and you crashed your lips back into hers in response. The pair of you were a whimpering, needy mess on the floor, grinding into one another and sloppily kissing each others lips.

In response to her comment, you made quick work of your bra, throwing it aside. Larissa audibly moaned out in delight at the sight of your freed tits. Your nipples were so hard, you swore you could pop them.

You thrust your chest towards Larissa who was starting at your jiggling tits, “God please Larissa… touch me…” you breathlessly pled with the blonde.

The blonde happily obliged, wrapping her tongue around one of your hard buds and nipping and toying with her tongue. Your back arched in pleasure and your hands flew to Larissa’s hair. The pins had to go.

With your hips swaying in a rhythm and still grinding into one another, Larissa skillfully teased and marked your nipples and neck line, while you rushed to remove all the pins in her hair. Her beautiful locks cascaded down to her shoulders and your brain short circuited completely.

Larissa removed her lips from your puffy and marked bud with a pop, meeting your gaze, “What…?” She chuckled at your gawking state.

You ground against the blondes heat once more and with a pout breathlessly whined, “Clothes… need to go…”

At that Larissa eyes were completely taken by dark lust and desperation. She quickly took you off her lap, and before you could complain, she was unzipping her dress. You quickly followed with your trousers. When you looked back up to Larissa, she was in nothing but a cream satin lingerie set.

She stalked towards you, pining you against one of the greenhouse lab tables. With ease, she lifted you onto the table and slid her form in between your legs. You responded by immediately attaching your legs to her waist and pulling her face down to smash you lips against hers again.

As much as you would have loved to take a minute and explore the beautiful blondes mouth, you were desperate. As Larissa ravaged your mouth, you were quickly to unclip her bra, letting her creamy, soft, luscious tits free from their confinement.

“Fuck ‘Rissa…” you breathed out, your pupils dialating even more at you taking in her stunning form.

Larissa blushed at the nickname and how speechless her body had made you. But she was desperate too…

“As much as I love you ogling my tits, Darling… If I don’t have your face in my cunt in the next few minutes, I’ll fucking die…” Larissa groaned.

You licked your lips at Larissa’s words and nodded eagerly. You stripped your knickers off with haste. The two of you hastily swapped position, and you placed yourself right at the blondes thighs. You could see a soaking wet patch in her knickers, which only turned you on more.

Larissa needily bucked her hips into your face, “please fuck me please…!” She mewled.

And you happily obliged. You could already smell the scent of her arousal through her knickers. You tore her knickers off and threw them with her dress on the floor. Tonguing through her folds only made your body go into more of a frenzy. Every moan and cry that came from Larissa’s lips sent you spiraling.

Larissa’s hand shot down to grab ahold of your hair as the other stabilized her on the table. Strings of obscenities flowed from her smerred red lips as you explored her folds. Her legs clenched deliciously around your head, suffocating you in a manner that you couldn’t want any more than you did right now.

You noted that Larissa tasted like that tea, but wayyy more concentrated and far more delicious… Your tongue lapped through Larissa’s folds and in her walls with fervor, until she her walls were fluttering around your tongue more and more.

“Fuuuuck Darling M’mm gonna cum!!” Larissa moaned out, pushing your face deeper inside her cunt.

“Fuck ‘Rissa tastes so good… God cum for me please…!!” You groaned in response, which sent her even closer to her climax.

You attached your thumb to her clit, remembering the movement you saw her do to herself and you quickly circled the bundle of nerves sloppily. Larissa’s eyes rolled back as she came with the cry of your name on her tongue, her thighs depriving you of oxygen as they pressed together only pushing you further into her cunt, which was squirting plentiful amounts of cum on your face.

You moaned in delight as you ate her out, her walls clenching around your tongue. The blonde let go of your hair and you pulled out of your meal to look up at her. She was panting heavily with glazed over eyes as she stared down at you.

“Christ, you’re fantastic at that…” Larissa breathlessly chuckled, her body giving out on her causing her to collapse on the table.

But you two were by no means through…

You chuckled back at the blissed out blonde, “I’d clean you up but I’d rather feel your juices on my own pussy…”

At your words, Larissa sat up fully, eyes wide at your words, and she practically jumped off the table with her wobbly legs making her immediately collapse on the floor and taking you with her. You both laughed at her miscalculated act.

“Shit, when’s the last time someone properly fucked you?” You laughed, “Or am I just that good…?”

Larissa smacked your arm at your words and you wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. Damn was her laugh intoxicating…

But you quickly shut Larissa up by interlocking your legs and rolling your hips into the blondes, your dripping core grinding against Larissa’s. Your action immediately made Larissa’s eyes roll back in pleasure yet again and elicited another delicious moan from her lips. Her moan was quickly followed by a straggled cry of pleasure of your own.

Now Larissa was the one who caught you by surprise, rolling her hips into yours in unison to your moan.

“Shiiiit ‘Rissa! Do that again and M’mmm gonna cum…!!” You cried out, holding on to the tall blonde shoulders as you met her grinding sloppily.

“So soon, Darling…?” Larissa taunted, “I’m that good…?”

“Yes GOD YES please ‘Rissa!!” You cried out, your climax approaching at a rapid pace.

Your grindings got sloppier and more rushed as the two of spewed strings of obscenities into each others ears.

“Fuck Darling I’m…” Larissa panted, approaching her climax right along side you.

Suddenly, a distinct twig snapped outside. You and Larissa both immediately stopped and swiveled your head to the sound. Your breaths hitched together as you saw the shadow of Marilyn coming closer. You both scrambled, unlocking your legs and rushing about to find your clothes quickly.

“Shit shit shit…” you muttered, not being able to find your knickers.

But it was too late. The door was unlocking. You quickly finished dressing and so did Larissa. You and Larissa both hastened to sit where Marilyn had left you.

“Hey, Sorry, wanted to check on some plants on the edge of the woods…” Marilyn chirped with the same mischevious twinkle in her eye. You were still on complete edge and couldn’t stand it anymore….

“I’m so sorry, Marilyn, but I need to go…” you muttered, side eyeing Larissa before thanking Marilyn and rushing out of the greenhouse. Before you got up to the school, Larissa had caught up with you.

“My office. Ten minutes.” She breathed down your neck lustfully.

“God yes, ‘Rissa…” you groaned under your breath.

Your two bodies were by no means through with each other…

~~~

Part 2 out now… 🤭

Larissa Weems Masterlist

[avonne-writes]

re: high school au after gale kinda moves in with them is there ever a time where geogia (or chick, but i feel like they know that might scare him so delegate it to her) has to really /parent/ bc he steps out of line/doing something he maybeee shouldn't have etc?

Interesting question!

Yes, actually! But perhaps not in the way you'd expect. He never steps out of line, creates messes or talks back. He’s always conscious of the fact that he’s not actually a relative, no matter how they try to make him more comfortable. He can’t wait to leave for college and be independent, because then he won't have to think about that anymore.

But this doesn’t mean that he never has any conflicts with Georgia. I think there's one thing that leads to arguments between them: Gale disappearing for hours at a time, sometimes very late in the evening, without telling anyone about it.

The issue comes from the fact that he's not used to anyone at home caring about where he goes and what he does after school. Of course, he spends a lot of time with Bucky and also with swimming. But before he moved in, he used to have some time during the week when no one paid attention to him. Since he didn’t like staying home that much, he often went out and spent time in random parks, public libraries etc. or simply stayed at the swimming pool, sitting on the bleachers and being soothed by the sounds of other people training. Then he went home late.

It has become a comfort.

So, he continues this habit even after he moves in. And you can imagine how well that goes. Gale, who almost jumped off a bridge a few weeks before and had to be moved out of his parents' house, doesn’t come home when everyone else expects him to.

They try to call him, text him, but for some reason (doesn’t hear it / phone dead), he doesn’t pick up. Everyone is worried sick but doesn’t dare say what they're thinking. Georgia calls Chick, who starts checking the bridges. Then, as if nothing was amiss, Gale comes home. He’s taken aback by how worried they all are and gets defensive. Chick gets there too and instinctively, as the worry rushes out of him, he starts scolding Gale. This, like you said, scares Gale, but his alarm reaction is fighting back. So he starts throwing in things he doesn’t mean, like "so what if I wanted to do that [SA]? What does it matter to you?"

Georgia asks Chick to leave the room because she realizes that it's not helping. Gale feels like he’s caged, but Georgia changes her tone to something gentler. Gale feels really bad and just wants to get out of the conversation. He’s also hyperaware of Bucky being very quiet. Georgia explains why they were worried and asks him to let them know where he is next time. He just nods, but fully intends to just run away next time.

Chick comes back and talks to him more gently, to which Gale reacts impassively. At this point, he nods to anything they say because he wants to get away. Once they let him leave the room, he goes upstairs and locks himself in his bedroom. He hears Bucky try the handle but then walk away when he can’t open the door. Gale is sad about that at first, but then, chat messages start popping up on his phone. From one bedroom away, Bucky starts texting him like he used to before Gale moved in.

In another post, I already mentioned that Gale finds it easier to talk about his feelings like that. It helps this time as well. Bucky comforts him, then Gale sends him a love letter-like affectionate text. Bucky tries to enter the room again, and Gale lets him in this time. They make out (and touch each other) in Gale's bed very quietly and sleep there together.

Everything goes back to the new normal the next day, but it takes a while before Gale tells them (without prompting) where he is when he disappears. The next few times, they still have to call or text him, and Georgia has to talk to him about it a few more times. But at least he picks up.

[justwearthegoddamncardigan]

Hi! Is there any chance you could write a Newt x Female reader they both have a crush on each other but are too scared to admit it so Y/n starts avoiding Newt, then Newt is like concerned, and Minho is all like, "You idiot, can't you tell that she likes you?" And then some sort of cute confession? It's okay if you don't want to write it, though! Thanks!

Hello! This is so cute, thanks for requesting ❤️ Hope you enjoy!

Strawberry Kisses

Newt x fem!reader

Set during tmr (movieverse)

Warnings: language, a single sex joke

"Hey," greets Newt, sliding into the bench beside you.

"Morning," you respond. "Did you tell Fry about the strawberries yesterday?"

"Yep," he says with a grin. "It's perfect. Box'll come up with sugar soon, so we can make jam when they're ripe."

He pushes a bit of bacon onto your plate, because for some inane reason, he hates it.

"Jam?" Minho sits down across from you, ears perked up at the rare sweet.

You laugh a little. "Yeah, the strawberries actually grew properly for once."

You work in the gardens with Newt, and you often work on planting and harvesting the more delicate fruits and plants.

It's a little frustrating sometimes when they don't grow well in the Glade environment, but it's always a huge reward when you get to pick the rare fruits.

When you're done with breakfast, you go off to work with Newt.

And that's where your dilemma begins.

For months, you've managed to keep your feelings under wraps, but your tiny crush has somehow evolved into this huge thing.

It used to be okay. You could pretend your feelings were just trivial, and you could act like there was nothing between you and Newt.

But lately it's been so hard. There's an ache in your chest every time you see him, aching to get closer, to pull him in and kiss that smile.

You've pictured confessing your feelings a thousand times, but you've always been too scared of being rejected.

Which leaves you here.

Maybe it would be better if your jobs weren't so close, but instead you work side by side with him every day.

"Y/n, you alright?"

You startle as you realise you've been staring at him while thinking, and quickly shake yourself out of your thoughts.

"Yeah, 'm fine." You busy yourself with plucking some tomatoes.

As you finish clearing out the low ones, you reach up to grab the ones near the top of the vine.

Newt chuckles as you huff, unable to get to them, and you roll your eyes at his laugh.

"Here, I got 'em."

He steps closer, reaching up over you to pick the high tomatoes, leaving you about eye level with his neck.

You realise the two of you are dangerously close together.

Jesus, pull yourself together Y/n.

He looks up in frustration at the highest ones, clearly unaware of your current inner turmoil.

"We can get the stepladder-" you start, but then he reaches up again, this time stretching up onto his toes to reach.

You stop breathing when he rests a hand on your shoulder for balance.

"Got them," he says with a grin, and when he steps back down you're practically nose to nose.

Your eyes flicker down to his lips.

Shuck.

You take a huge step back, grabbing the basket of tomatoes. "Great, um. I'm gonna take these to Frypan."

"What, now?"

"Yep, now," you turn and powerwalk away, eyes facing straight ahead, not looking back.

⭒----⭒

You lay awake that night, thinking about everything with you and Newt.

This crush is starting to affect your life.

Not just cause of potentially embarrassing situations, but it hurts too, liking someone and not being able to do anything about it.

So you decide to distance yourself a little, give yourself some space to breathe, and maybe get over your crush.

You wake up the next day, practically at sunrise, and get an early breakfast.

It's actually kinda nice.

There aren't that many people up, just Frypan in the kitchens and Minho and Ben preparing for the morning run.

Minho looks up in surprise as he sees you.

"Y/n, you're up early."

"Yeah," you say. "Just- trying out this new thing."

"A waking up early thing?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yep."

He shrugs. "Alright, good for you I guess."

When you see the other Gladers start to rise, you move into the gardens to start work early.

You watch from a distance as Newt wakes up and goes to the breakfast table.

After a while, he starts looking around a little, seemingly confused.

Is he looking for you?

You give yourself a mental shake, and tear your gaze away from him.

The whole point was to stop thinking about him, for shuck's sake.

You work for a solid ten minutes until a voice rings out behind you.

"Y/n!" Newt walks into the gardens. "Missed you at breakfast."

You nod. "I was here," you say shortly.

"Right. Well, since you weren't there, I had to eat bacon today. Still tastes like salty paper."

He cracks a smile, probably expecting you to jokingly condemn his aversion to bacon, as you normally do.

"You could probably tell Frypan not to give it to you," you say, speaking casually as you force yourself to turn away, facing your back to him.

"I- yeah, I guess."

The silence you usually fill with chatting and laughing stretches uncomfortably.

"Hey, I think Zart wanted someone to clear weeds over there," you say, pointing to a crop across on the other side of the farm.

"Oh, right. I can ask someone else to do that, if you want help here."

"I should be fine," you tell him.

He nods and steps away awkwardly. "Okay, I'll go... do that."

⭒----⭒

The next few days are full of interactions like that.

You avoid him at meals as much as you can, and when you can't, you make sure you're never sitting too near.

Minho's been sandwiched between the two of you on multiple occasions.

You also plan your free time away from his, but you tend to fail at being subtle about it.

When he gets back from his break, you end your shift, feeling his confused and slightly hurt expressions punch you in the gut.

"Y/n." You feel a nudge in your leg under the table.

You look up at Minho, who's looking at you with a thoughtful expression.

You raise your eyebrows. "What is it?"

"Have you been avoiding Newt?"

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. "Of course not, why would you think that?"

"Well, you're here, right now, instead of being with him in the gardens."

"I'm just... on my break. And hey, why can't I see you? We're friends."

"You can see me. And yeah, we're friends. But you spend way more time with me than you do with Newt."

"I get the feeling you're trying to friend-dump me," you say, aiming for levity as Minho strays worryingly close to the truth.

"Y/n." Minho leans forward, looking you in the eye. "You're crushing on Newt so much you literally have to run away and hide in the Runner's hut every single day."

You fumble for words for a second, then give up on hiding it.

"Shuck," you groan. "Am I obvious?"

"Not at all."

"Really?"

"With the way you're acting around him right now, I wouldn't even think the two of you are friends."

You sigh, dropping your face into your hands.

"I just don't know what to do."

"Ask him out," says Minho, like it's obvious.

His grin turns teasing as he continues. "Tell him you love him. Kiss him right on the lips. Take him into a hut and make sweet sweet love to him."

You level Minho with a deadly glare.

He rolls his eyes. "Literally anything but stay in here with me moping over his dumb ass."

You shake your head, standing up. "I'm going back to work."

"Which means Newt's on break now, is he?"

You bite your lip. "He is."

You hear Minho sigh as you leave. "Idiots, both of you."

⭒----⭒

You meet Newt halfway on the way back to the gardens.

"Hey," he says, giving you a smile.

That smile. That smile is probably about half the reason you're doing this whole space and distance thing.

"Hi," you respond.

"I think the strawberries are about ready to be picked. D'you want help? I can come along, if you like?"

"Aren't you on break?" you ask.

"Technically, yes, but-"

"We're meant to stay on schedule," you say, as if he isn't second in command of the glade and also absolutely meticulous about sticking to plans.

He blinks in surprise, and this time he's definitely hurt. Fuck, now you're just being a bitch.

You let out a sigh as he steps back. "Newt, wait. I'm sorry. Just... there's a lot on my mind right now, and I was looking for some alone time." It's a half-truth.

He nods. "It's- it's okay. Go on, if the strawberries are done by today we'll have jam tomorrow."

You send him a weak smile and move to the gardens.

⭒----⭒

As you go to your shift, Newt walks over to the Runner's hut, entering and immediately slumping down into a chair.

"Alright, what's this about then?" asks Minho, as though he doesn't know exactly what's happening.

Newt hesitates. "...have you talked to Y/n recently? Is she alright?"

"She's okay..." says Minho slowly, waiting to hear what Newt says.

Newt looks down at his hands. "She's so distant lately. We never talk. I don't know what happened. Do you think it's something I did?"

"Newt, man, you look like an actual kicked puppy right now. I can't even have fun with this."

Newt frowns. "What are you talking about?"

Minho rolls his eyes. "You're both idiots, seriously. Look, can't you tell she likes you?"

"What?" Newt's eyes jump up to Minho.

"She's been avoiding you cause she likes you, you dumb shank. You're both so blindly in love you can't see that the other likes you back."

"She- she likes me?"

"Just go talk to her, Newt. Put everyone out of their misery."

⭒----⭒

Newt waits for the next day to talk to you.

You're sitting in a secluded clearing, just having a peaceful break as you listen to a small stream trickling nearby.

You turn as you hear footsteps crunching through the grass behind you.

Newt gives you a smile when he sees you, waving and looking slightly... nervous?.

Weird.

"Hi," he says, sitting down beside you. "Frypan told me he's made the jam. Do you... wanna come try it with me?"

You send him a small smile, but shake your head. "Thanks, but I might go later. You can go now though, if you don't want to wait."

"It's alright. Do you want some company?"

The yes is on the tip of your tongue. You just want to lean your head on his shoulder and tell him how you feel.

But what if he doesn't like you back? What is he doesn't even want to be friends after?

You stand, dusting yourself off. "I think I'm just gonna go-"

Newt stands abruptly, catching your hand and tugging you back as you turn to leave.

"No, okay? No. Just please, don't go for once."

"Newt..."

"Listen, I've been... I just- Oh, shuck it."

He pulls you back in and kisses you.

Your eyes flutter closed automatically, and you step closer, feeling his arm tighten around your waist as you kiss back.

You blink your eyes open as he pulls back slowly, and you just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

"Did you already have the jam?"

He blinks in surprise, then blushes. "I- yeah, I was at the kitchens just before. ...sorry."

You grin up at him, gliding a hand through his hair. He blush blooms fully, and you decide that it's your life goal to make him blush as much as possible.

"Why would you be sorry? I like strawberries."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. But I didn't really get a good taste..."

He grins at you, and you decide that it's also your life goal to make him smile as much as possible.

"I guess you should have another try then," he says.

You kiss him again, this time harder, letting your tongue sweep past his lips.

"Newt," you say between kisses.

"Mm?"

"Sorry I kept pulling away," you whisper.

He breaks the kiss gently, smoothing his thumb across your cheek and resting his forehead on yours.

"It's okay. I think I get what was happening." He presses another kiss to your lips, this time soft and slow.

"Thank you. I really like you, in case you didn't get that yet."

He smiles against your lips. "I really like you too, Y/n."

I actually made myself smile so much with this fic, especially near the end. It was so fun to write :))

I love these cause Newt x reader with Minho as a supportive bestie is one of my favourite things to write, so thank you anon ❤❤

Also, hope you like strawberries, cause I wrote the first conversation and then just ran with it.

[bonny-kookoo]

ooh bonny I'm a sucker for angst 🤧 I gotta know (if you please) how things went for snowball princess before jin came back and/or while she was away from yoongi for basic training?

The clock ticking is an odd sound now.

It mixes with the low buzzing of the fridge starting and stopping occasionally, as you sit alone in Yoongis kitchen. There's a plastic container of leftovers from last night in front of you- reheated all by yourself, the microwave no longer scary after having taught yourself how to use it. Earlier, there was a staff member here, checking if you needed anything.

But now, you're alone. Truly so.

Yoongi won't come back like he did before- you'll sleep alone tonight, and somehow, it's not sad to you. Just.. odd. It feels strange to just not know what the guys are doing right now- whether or not they might think of you even. Probably not, since they're all distracted with training, new friends, and making sure they do well.

Will they be changed when they return? Will that new version still like you the same?

The first night alone passes by in a blur. You didn't eat the leftovers Yoongi made sure to pack up for you, instead you watch staff dump the contents out into the appropriate trash since they're now unsafe to eat for you. You feel oddly guilty watching it happen. Like it's your fault it spoiled.

It's obvious staff doesn't know what to really do with you.

You don't need anything, don't request anything- you eat standard instant noodles since they're easy to prepare, having watched the guys make them time and time again. And yet, even though you swear you did all the steps the exact same as Jungkook does-

It doesn't taste the same. Instead, it just makes you sad, salty tears quietly dripping into the bowl of noodles and broth you got in front of you.

You know you're just lonely. Your instincts just overreact to the unusual situation you're now in, none of your comfort people around anymore to give you any sense of security. It reminds you that you're not the same as them- that you'll never be the same, that there's always be some things you can't understand, and others they can't understand either.

You hide in bed the next day. Only come out when the staff member checks up on you.

When Yoongi returns, it's strange again- he comments on your low energy here and there, but after many answers of reassurance from your side, and even a doctor's appointment, it's clear that nothing is physically wrong with you. Nothing to worry.

It's just an inevitable change that's bound to happen at your age, or so the specialist had told Yoongi.

He refuses to really accept that- pushes it aside, and tries to take care of you the same way he did before. And it seems to work, at least in his eyes; you spend time again together, eat together, sleep together. Sometimes you spend your day at someone else's house, other times you stay inside the whole day. Yoongi takes you with him to visit his parents even, where you play with the family dog for a little and converse with his brother who'd visited coincidentally at the same time, before you go back home and get back into routine.

It's only when Jin returns, that Yoongi has to face reality.

"She's.. very quiet." Seokjin comments, as he sits on the couch, your head on his thigh as you sleep after dinner, lavishly cooked by him. "Have you maybe asked her to get-"

"We've been there already. They say it's 'normal considering her age'." Yoongi mumbles quietly, picking at his last bites on his plate before he abandons any further attempt at finishing his portion of the dinner, leaning back in the sofa as well, away from the table. "But it's so sudden. Maybe.. I don't know. Could it be something else?" He asks, and Jin looks at him.

"You mean mentally?" He asks, and the rapper nods. "Maybe. This has to be stressful for her, after all. Let's hope that maybe with one by one coming back, she'll come around as well." He sighs, running a hand over your head before he lets his palm settle on your shoulder. "I trust her that she'll tell us if she needs help."

"I hope she does." Yoongi worries, watching you sleep on his friend's lap-

Looking awfully troubled, even while dreaming.