#I just feel my relationships crumbling around me…and if they haven’t yet then they’re going to…

[annikuh]

not to be John paranoia but ohhhhh something bad’s gonna happen to me soon I feel it…ooooh god brother I wanna retreat underground I feel my subconscious giving up on my whole life and it’s nooooot gooooooood guysssss

[waitimcomingtoo]

hoax ~ p.p

chapter eight: the story of us

series masterlist

“Who the hell is that?”

Everyone turned their heads to see who Peter was staring at. Like always, it was you. But this time, it was you and a tall blonde boy that was making you throw your head back laughing.

“That’s Sebastian.” Kate replied.

“Sebastian? Psht. What? I’ve literally never heard of that name. What is he, a crab? Psht.” Peter scoffed and continued to stare daggers at Harry, who was leaning against your locker to be closer to you.

“Don’t “psht” him.” Gwen laughed. “He’s a nice guy.”

“Says who?” Peter scoffed again.

“Says Y/n. Because she’s totally in love with him.” Kate said in a sing-songy voice.

“Huh?” Peter asked as his eyes went wide.

“They’re a thing.” Gwen shrugged. “You didn’t know that?”

“Huh?” Peter asked again, louder this time.

“Can you stop doing that?” MJ asked him.

“What do you mean they’re a thing?” He asked the girls.

“They’re talking.” Kate shrugged.

“About what?” Peter wondered and looked over his shoulder at you again.

“No, dingus. They’re talking. As in in a talking stage.” Kate explained. Peter looked at you again before leaning in closer to the girls.

“But what are they talking about?” He whispered.

“Oh my God.” Gwen groaned. “They’re in the stage before dating. It’s commonly known as the talking stage. Haven’t you ever been in a situationship before?”

“Are these real words?” Peter asked genuinely and looked to MJ for help.

“I don’t even know what to say at this point.” MJ held up her hands in defense.

“A situationship means they have feelings for each other but aren’t in a committed relationship. At least, not yet anyway.” Kate explained.

“Exactly. They text and go on dates. That’s a situationship. And as we’ve said, the stage before dating.” Gwen continued.

“There’s a stage before dating?” Peter asked. “Isn’t that just friendship?”

“How have you never heard these words? What do boys learn in school?” Kate asked.

“Where did she even find that guy? Under the sea? He’s way too old to be blonde. Men should not be blonde past age 10. He seriously needs to grow up.” Peter scoffed as his jealousy got the better of him. He turned around to look at you again and you were doing your fake laugh as Sebastian told you a story in an obnoxiously loud voice.

“They met in her sociology class.” Kate replied. “He asked for her snap and then walked her to her next class. Isn’t that so cute?”

“So she likes that guy? And goes on dates with him?” Peter asked without taking his eyes off you. All he could think of was how some other guy was filling his space beside you on walks and taking you on dates that Peter never took you on.

“That’s what being in a situationship means, yes.” Gwen answered.

“But she just broke up with me- uh, Spiderman two months ago. She’s already moved on?” Peter asked sadly and looked back at the girls.

“Duh. Spiderman was so last semester.” Kate chuckled.

“And she’s happy with that guy?” Peter asked in a quiet voice.

“She’s over the moon.” Gwen insisted. “He’s all she talks about.”

Peters face crumbled when he heard this and he turned to look at you again. You were telling Sebastian something while he texted on his phone. You looked up when you felt eyes on you and made eye contact with Peter. He quickly looked away and felt tears come to his eyes. He blinked them back and pretended to fiddle with his shirt buttons. MJ noticed how upset he looked and as the only one present who knew why this upset him, she felt obligated to cheer him up.

“I think she’s just trying to cleanse her pallet of Spiderman. She doesn’t really like this guy. She just wants to start the process of moving on.” MJ said as she looked at Peter. Peter relaxed when he heard this and wiped his face.

“You’re sure?” He asked her.

“Trust me. She’s never getting over Spiderman. In fact-“

“Hey guys.” You said as you approached the group, accidentally cutting off MJ. She was about to tell Peter that you were very much still in love with him, but now he’d never know.

“Hey girl.” Kate smiled and wrapped an arm around you. You smiled at her and then looked at Peter, who looked like he had just seen a ghost.

“Hi Peter.” You smiled at him, making him look at you in surprise.

“Me hi?” He asked and pointed to himself.

“Yeah. Hey you.” You nudged him playfully, making him blush.

“Hi. You look really nice today.” He told you, reminding you both of old times.

“Thanks.” You smiled sadly and fixed your shirt.

“You do look nice.” Kate noticed. “All dolled up for your man?”

“Yeah, like I’d dress for a man.” You snorted. “In fact, lately I’ve been dressing for revenge.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” MJ chuckled. You laughed as well and then noticed the pained look on Peters face.

“He’s not actually my man.” You told him, though you weren’t really sure why you said it.

“I know. They were just filling me in on your situationship.” He said with a tight smile. Your smile dropped and you gave your friends a look.

“Guys. You told Peter?” You whispered in annoyance.

“Why would Peter care? Just because he had that crush on you two months ago?” Kate asked. You and Peter exchanged a look and quickly looked away from each other.

“Yeah. I don’t mind hearing about it. We’re friends now and friends talk about these things.” Peter shrugged but you both knew he was lying. The bell then rang and Kate and Gwen groaned.

“I gotta go.” Kate said and squeezed your arm before walking away.

“Same. See you later.” Gwen waved and headed towards her next class. MJ gave you a knowing look before leaving as well. She didn’t have a class now, but she wanted you to talk to Peter alone. Once it was just the two of you, you stepped in front of Peter so you could face each other.

“Look, I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

“It’s okay. We broke up. You can date whoever you want.” He said with a tight smile.

“I’m not really dating him. I’m not even sure I like him. He takes five hours to text back and we’ve only hung out twice. I kinda played it up to my friends so they don’t think I’m pathetic for still being totally in love with….” You trailed off when you realized how much information you were spilling. Peters eyebrows went up and all the hope in the world filled his eyes.

“Sorry. This whole conversation was way too much exposition.” You laughed awkwardly.

“A little bit, yeah.” He laughed as well and desperately hoped you’d finish that sentence.

“All I wanted to say is, I’m not moving on. It’s important to me that you know that.”

“Why?” Peter wondered. “Why do you want me to know that?”

“Because I don’t want you to move on, okay?” You admitted without looking at him.

“You don’t?” Peter asked as a smile broke through on his lips. You were about to say more when the second bell rang, meaning you were already late.

“I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later?” You asked genuinely. Peter nodded and felt his heart piece itself back together. He went to his next class with a huge smile on his face and for the first time in months, allowed himself to be hopeful about getting back together.

A few days later, you were on your third date with Sebastian. He invited you to watch his lacrosse game and met up with him afterwards. As he approached you, his entire team followed him and clapped him on the shoulders while hyping him up. He pulled you into a hug that you didn’t want because he was sweaty and people were watching.

“Oh, hi.” You laughed awkwardly and stepped out of the hug.

“So you liked watching me play?” He asked you like he already knew the answer was yes.

“Yeah! Yeah, it was so….fun.” You kept your smile as you struggled to think of an acceptable adjective. You didn’t actually enjoy watching a bunch of sweaty guys jump on top of each other, but you wanted to be polite.

“Cool, cool. So while my boys are all with me, I wanted to ask you something.” Sebastian said while running his fingers through his hair. His hair wasn’t actually in his eyes, but he liked to do that when he wanted it look cool. His teammates started barking and clapping him on the back again, which made you step back uncomfortably.

“What did you want to ask me?”

“I want to make this official.” He said and rubbed his hands together. His teammates started barking again and shouting some crude remarks while you smiled nervously.

“Make what official?”

“Us, dummy. You and me. Aha.” He laughed and gestured between the two of you. Every single one of his teammates was staring at you and expecting you to say yes. You gulped and forced a laugh to ease the tension.

“Are you saying you want to be my boyfriend?”

“Yeah. I do. Lucky you.” He said with a suave smile. You folded your lips in and looked to the side to see if anyone was hearing this.

“But, uh, don’t you think it’s a little soon?” You laughed nervously.

“No. I think it’s the exact right time. Right, boys?” Sebastian turned to ask his team and they all hyped him up.

“But you barely even know me.” You pointed out. “We’ve only been on two dates. And one of them was a movie so we didn’t really talk.”

“I know you. And that’s why I want to give you this.” He said and stepped forward. He cupped your face and pulled you into the most lifeless, stiff kiss of your life. You kept your eyes open and didn’t move a muscle until he pulled away.

“It was horrible, MJ. Horrible. It felt like kissing a concrete wall. Only colder and a lot less fun. No passion whatsoever. I gotta get out of this.” You told MJ once you were back in your room that night. You were both sitting on your bed and you were hugging a pillow for comfort after being traumatized by the worst kiss of your life.

“Is he at least nice?” MJ asked you.

“I don’t know. I guess so. He doesn’t excite me though. Not the way…” You trailed off and looked to the side.

“Peter did?” She finished your sentence.

“It’s just, I would get all these butterflies when Peter texted me. I was checking my phone all day to see if he sent anything. I’d hear love songs on the radio and think of him and I. He made me laugh, he asked me questions, and took his time getting to know me. But with Sebastian, I feel like we’re just in an endless cycle of “hey, what’s up?” , “not much, you?”, “Yeah not much”. And then five hours later, we’re having that same conversation all over again. I don’t know if he has siblings. I don’t know what he likes to do for fun. I his favorite songs. I couldn’t even tell you what color his eyes are even though I’ve see him three days a week in class. Because you know what? I don’t care. He’s not Peter.”

“And you want Peter.” MJ said as more of a statement than a question.

“I do.” You admitted. “Ugh. Am I totally lame and pathetic for wanting someone who lied to me?”

“No. You are totally lame for those socks though.” MJ said and looked down at the Spiderman socks you had on.

“I bought them from a guy on the street.” You mumbled as you moved to sit on your feet.

“I could tell.” MJ mumbled back.

“It’s been two months. I’m done torturing Peter.” You decided. “I’m gonna end things with Sebastian and tell Peter I still love him.”

“Tonight? Please say yes. My wifi is buffering and I’m so bored.” MJ whined and shook your arm.

“Tomorrow.” You told him. “I don’t want to ruin Sebastians night.”

“Fine.” MJ huffed. “But you better tell him tomorrow. He almost died when Gwen and Kate told him about Sebastian. I thought he was gonna throw up.”

“I’ll tell him, okay?” You promised her.

“Good.” She nodded in satisfaction. “Get your boyfriend back.”

“You know what?” You smiled. “I will.”

The next day, you didn’t have any classes with Peter so you had to wait until lunch to see him. You unblocked his number and texted him that you had to talk to him about something but that it had to be in person. Peter was ecstatic to see that text and couldn’t wait until lunchtime when he got to see you. You were already sitting at the lunch table when he got there, making his heart pound. He quickly fixed his hair and shirt before approaching the table.

“Hey, Y/n.” He smiled at you as he sat across from you.

“Hey, Peter. Do you think we could-“

“Hey, little lady.” Sebastian cut you off as he slung his arm around you. Your smile fell almost as quickly as Peters did with Sebastian’s unexpected presence.

“Sebastian. What are you doing here?” You laughed nervously and took his arm off of you. Peter gulped and balled his hand into a fist as he tried to stay calm at the sight of some other guy with his arm around you.

“What? I can’t sit with my girlfriend and her friends at lunch?” Sebastian asked you as he put his arm back around you. Everyone froze and exchanged a look before looking at you and Sebastian.

“His what?” Kate asked and raised an eyebrow.

“His what?” Peter asked as his face crumbled.

“Uhhhh…” You forced another laugh and took his arm off of you. You had never actually agreed to being Sebastian’s girlfriend after the kiss incident. You had just excused yourself and ran back to your dorm as fast as you could.

“Y/n didn’t tell you? We’re official. I’m not like other guys. Labels don’t scare me. I’m crazy about this woman and I don’t care who knows it.” Sebastian said with a smug smile. You turned your face and gagged a little at every single word choice he made while Kate and Gwen tried not to laugh.

“Do you even know her last name?” MJ asked him. You felt grateful she had come to the rescue because you yourself had no idea what to say.

“Doesn’t matter. Because one day, it’ll be the same as mine.” Sebastian smirked before leaning in to kiss you. You quickly turned your face so the kiss landed on your cheek instead. You made eye contact with Peter when you turned your face and he looked like he was near tears.

“Wow.” MJ mouthed and looked at the girls to signal that they needed to help you.

“Sebastian, I’ve never seen where the lacrosse players practice. Would you mind showing me?” Kate asked when she picked up on MJs hint.

“You know what? Neither have I. I would love to see it.” Gwen agreed and stood up.

“Oh, sure. I could take you.” Sebastian agreed. “Let’s go, Y/n.”

“Actually, I’m gonna stay here with Peter.” You told him.

“No, you should go with him.” Peter said and stood up as well.

“I don’t want to go with him. I wanted to talk to you.” You kept your eyes solely on Peter as you got up from the table.

“It’s okay. You should go with your boyfriend.” Peter said as his eyes brimmed with tears. You stared him in the eyes for a long time before he wiped his face and ran out of the lunchroom. You let out a sigh as you watched him disappear but decided that you were done playing games. You turned to Sebastian to tell him the truth.

“Sebastian, I didn’t like how you asked me to be your girlfriend in front of all your teammates. It made me feel like I had no choice but to say yes. And honestly, I didn’t want to say yes. I don’t know you well enough. And right now, I don’t see a future between us. I’m sorry for wasting your time.” You said simply before running out of the lunchroom after Peter.

“I don’t really give a fuck where the lacrosse team practices.” MJ admitted as she sat back down at the table. The other girls were silent for a minute before nodding in agreement and sitting down as well.

“Peter, wait.” You called after him as you chased him down the hallway. Peter kept walking but you eventually caught up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders. He was crying and looking down while wiping his runny nose on his sleeve.

“Peter, please talk to me. I need to explain.” You said as you pulled your sleeve over your hand to wipe his tears.

“You said you weren’t moving on. You said you didn’t want me to move on. When you asked me to talk today, I thought…” Peter trailed off when he felt too embarrassed to admit he thought you wanted to get back together.

“You thought what?”

“I thought you were ready to forgive me. And not just as pretend for our friends. You’ve been so nice to me lately and I felt like we were getting back to the way we used to be. But I’m such an idiot. I actually thought there was gonna be another chance for us.” He laughed sadly at Hoe dumb he felt for thinking that.

“Peter-“

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I blew it with you and I know that. I don’t know why I was stupid enough to let myself think you wanted to get back together. You obviously don’t and moved on and I don’t have any right to be upset about that since it’s my fault for fucking things up between us. I should’ve just told you who I was right away. We could’ve been happy and in love if I had. I’m sorry I ruined everything between us. I’m sorry I lied to you. And I’m sorry for being a baby about it now. I know I shouldn’t be upset. I just can’t believe you have a boyfriend and it isn’t me.” Peter said and broke into tears again. He tried to walk away but you pulled him into a hug and let him cry for minute.

“Peter?” You said and pulled away a little.

“What?” He sniffled.

“I don’t have a boyfriend. I never did. He asked me to be his girlfriend last night and I never gave him an answer. But it doesn’t matter now because I just ended things with him. I never moved on. And I was never gonna date that guy. I had no idea he was gonna sit with us at lunch and do that whole thing. I really wanted to talk to you, not rub some guy in your face. I never meant for that to happen. I would never purposefully try to make you upset. Please, believe me.”

“I believe you.” Peter nodded as he stared into your eyes. You stared back into his and smiled a little at how easily he accepted that you were telling the truth. He knew you, more than anyone else could say.

“Can we talk? About everything?” You laughed at how fucked up it all was now.

“I would like that.” Peter smiled softly.

“Maybe tonight? We could go for a walk like old times.” You offered as you took a pack of tissues out of your bag. Peters smile grew as he took the tissues.

“That would mean a lot to me. I can pick you up outside your dorm at 6.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.” You squeezed his arm and walked away.

That night, Peter was outside your dorm but 5:45. He had showered, dosed himself in aftershave, and put on his least wrinkled shirt. He checked the time every minute or so in anticipation of your arrival. His nervous hands fiddled with his shirt, his hair, his watch, and anything else he could play with as he waited for you. 6:02 came and there was no sight of you. Peter grew hopeful every time someone came out of your dorm but it was never you.

6:11 came and went and you still hadn’t shown up. Peter sent you a few texts to make sure everything was all right but hadn’t gotten a response.

By 6:34, he assumed you had forgotten about your agreement to meet up but also wondered if he had gotten the day wrong. Maybe you hadn’t actually said tonight and said “tomorrow” instead.

At 7:06, Peter called it a night. He stood up from the stair he was sitting on and walked back to his apartment in tears. He didn’t care about the people staring at him because he was too heartbroken over you standing him up. He cursed himself for not realizing it was too good to be true. He wished he never let himself believe that he could get a second chance with you and just accepted that things were over for good. If he had, he would’ve saved himself grieving this relationship a second time.

Peter plopped his bag down at the library table the next day and immediately put his head down. He was anxious to see you and hear what you had to say about why you stood him up. Ned came to the table first, followed by Kate, MJ and Gwen.

“Hey, dude. How did things go with Y/n last night?” Ned asked and excitedly shook Peters arm. Peter sat up a little and rested his chin on his hand.

“I don’t know. She never showed up.” He said quietly. MJ immediately perked up when she heard this and looked at Peter.

“Oh, I’m sorry man.” Ned frowned. “That really sucks. I thought things were starting to change between you.”

“So did I. But I guess not.” Peter sighed and put his head back down.

“She never showed up?” MJ asked and lifted Peters head up by grabbing his hair.

“Ow.” He said and pulled away. “No, she didn’t. Did she tell you why she changed her mind?”

“She didn’t change her mind. She went downstairs to wait for you at like 5:30 because she was so exited. It was all she talked about all day. She even put on the perfume she was wearing the day you guys “met”. What do you mean she never showed up?” MJ whispered to him. Peters eyes went wide and he looked at Ned to see if he was hearing this too.

“I waited outside the dorm for an hour. She was never there.” Peter told her.

“Well what time did you arrive?” MJ asked.

“5:45. We agreed to meet at 6.” Peter told her. MJ’s face twisted in panic, making Peters do the same.

“MJ, what are you not saying?” Ned asked. Peter got a sick feeling in his stomach as he turned to MJ for answers.

“Y/n never come home last night. I assumed it was because she was fornicating with you.” MJ said, making Peters stomach drop.

“Gross. Fornicating?” Ned grimaced.

“She never came home?” Peter asked slowly. The energy at the table was filled with collective dread as everyone tried to think of the last time they spoke to you.

“If she wasn’t with you and she wasn’t with me, where the hell is she?” MJ asked angrily. Peter shrugged helplessly as Ned turned to Kate and Gwen.

“Is everything okay, guys?” Kate asked when she noticed the three of them looking like they had just seen a ghost.

“Have you guys seen Y/n today?” Ned asked them.

“No. She wasn’t in our first class together. I was just gonna ask you if she was sick?” Kate asked MJ.

“She’s not sick. She left our room last night and was supposed to meet Peter outside but he says she never showed up.“

“And she never came home?” Kate asked while Gwen covered her mouth in fear. MJ shook her head, making everyone fall silent. No one knew what to do next until Gwen spoke.

“Call her. Everyone call and text her.” Gwen said to break the silence. Everyone whipped their phones out to text and call you but no one was able to reach you.

“No answer.” Gwen sighed after the fifth missed call.

“Me either.” Kate shook her head. “My texts aren’t being delivered.”

Everyone was quiet as the gravity of the situation became more apparent. Peter felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, something that only happened to him when danger was near.

“Guys.” Peter began. “I think something really bad happened to her. And I think it’s because of me.”

🖤🕸️🖤

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[yourmidnightlover]

all my fault

Request: spencer and y/n are married, and they’ve been trying to have kids, and then she finds out she’s pregnant. a few weeks into the pregnancy, she has a miscarriage, and at the hospital the doctor said it’s bc she had an abortion as a teenager, and it fucked up her it yet us. spencer didn’t know she had an abortion, and blames her for the death of the baby, and they end up sleeping separately for a while and they have to grieve by themselves. spencer ends up talking to emily about it bc of her experience and it has a comforting ending!

Summary: when reader has a miscarriage after trying to have a baby with spencer, and things about her past are revealed and leaves things rocky within their relationship.

CW: miscarriage, pregnancy, mention of abortion, spencer’s rly harsh at first, teenage pregnancy, mentions of surgery, a cervix condition that i kinda made up, depressive thoughts, negative self-worth, HAPPY ENDING. *please let me know if i’ve missed anything*

A/N: i’ve been working on coming up with a series, which i posted last thursday! i’m sorry i haven’t been as consistent with my schedule, this summer has really taken a toll on my mental health and school is about to start back up. i promise i’m not quitting writing, but my writing might become a bit more sporadic in terms of my posting schedule. i’m still not sure if i like how i’ve executed this piece, so please let me know what you think!

IMPORTANT A/N: this contains serious topics centered around pregnancy and abortion. reader end up blaming herself and it is a very triggering subject to some. if you aren’t comfortable with those kinds of depressive thoughts PLEASE DONT READ. i don’t want anyone to be triggered by my writing. your mental health matters. you matter. do not read if your sensitive to the subject matter, please!

———————————————————————

when you and spencer checked the third pregnancy test and saw those two, very clear lines on the stick, you felt an unbelievable amount of joy.

“oh my god,” you clamped your hand over your mouth, your eyes welling with tears.

“y/n…” he held his breath, holding your free hand with both of his own.

“you’re gonna be a dad,” you huffed out a laugh as his arms flew around you.

“and you’re gonna be a mom! we’re gonna have our own little family,” he cheered as he breathed in your scent, elated from the news he had hoped for since you said ‘i do.’

spencer had wanted to be a father since he met henry, you remember how attached he was to the child who wasn’t even his own. you hadn’t always wanted children, only when you were absolutely ready for them. now, you were more than ready.

your arms flew around spencer’s neck as his went around your waist. he dropped to his knees and began pressing kisses against a bump that wasn’t even visible yet, praising you and your body for carrying his child.

because it was so hard for you to get pregnant, spencer decided to baby you every chance he got. you didn’t do the dishes or sweep, you weren’t allowed to reach for high shelves or even step on a chair to do so. he was worried about you and the baby, so you let him. you found it endearing.

the perfect man that you married was so worried about the little bean inside of you, worried for your safety, that it drove him a bit mad. who were you to complain? each time he’d do one of the new little quirks like not letting you lift anything above 10 pounds, you just smiled to yourself and brushed it off.

being pregnant was something that you had lost hope for, in all honesty. spencer had been talking to a few friends who had adopted children prior to finding out you were pregnant. if this hadn’t worked out, the two of you were going to look into adoption.

spencer had planned your doctors appointment for 6 weeks after your last period. the appointment was in three days. and then the perfect outline you had for your future went down in crumbles.

you had been having pains in your lower abdomen, and you figured it was just because you were pregnant. you went to the bathroom like you normally would when you felt queasy, kneeling by the toilet in preparation for what was to come. only nothing came.

you decided to just go pee and get back to bed. there was a pain that wasn’t like you’d felt before when you were peeing, like someone had been pulling your intestines out of your body. when you looked down, you felt your stomach drop.

“spencer!” you cried out. “spencer, hurry!” you felt tears well in your eyes until he ran up beside you. his hand was on your thigh as the other one was trying to steady your shaking hand.

“what is… oh,” he looked in the toilet to see blood inside of it.

“spencer… what happened? i don’t know what happened. everything was doing so well and the baby-we just found out and now they’re-wh-what’s gonna happen?” you rambled out, unsure of how something this horrific happened so quickly.

“i-i don’t know, my love,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i don’t know. but we’ll go to the hospital right now, okay? we’ll get answers.”

you just nodded. you couldn’t speak anymore. you felt your throat closing in on yourself. you cleaned yourself up and got dressed. even looking in the mirror with spencer’s arms around you, you didn’t feel anything but guilt and worry.

spencer’s touch would usually be something to ease your mind and take away the thoughts of everything else around you. only this was something wrong inside of you. you were the problem this time. and you didn’t think anything could fix this feeling.

“let’s get to the hospital, yea?” you nodded as he held onto your hand, trying to ground you to himself as he guided you to the car.

you were silent the entire drive to the doctor. there was nothing to say. there was nothing to do. there was just… nothing. you were numb.

“hey,” he spoke up, “we don’t know what happened yet. there’s a chance it’s just a fluke, right? the baby might be okay.”

“what’re the statistics, spencer? tell them to me,” you ordered as tears flowed from your eyes.

“y/n…”

“tell me! why don’t you want me to know?!” you accused him, looking over at the man driving as he but his lower lip. “1 in 4 women who experience bleeding during a pregnancy are fine. 25 percent. the other 75 percent of people have either a miscarriage or serious complications. those are the statistics.”

“y/n…” he sighed, “it’s not your fault. you didn’t want this to happen. besides, there’s still a 25 percent chance that nothings wrong.”

“whatever,” you rolled your eyes and opted to look out of the window for the remainder of the drive to the hospital.

-

“alright,” the doctor entered the room. “we have the results from the test and we’ve examined the ultrasound pictures. i’m so sorry, but you’ve had a miscarriage.”

what were you supposed to feel? an overwhelming sense of sorrow? like a failure? like the one thing you wanted most in the world fell through?

“how-how did this happen?” you spoke through the tears. “we were so-we were careful. i didn’t lift heavy objects, i didn’t do repetitive motions, i just… we tried so hard to make this work,” you shook your head in disapproval, as if you wouldn’t accept the answer that had already been proven to you.

“there’s proof of an abortion when you were a teenager. there was severe damage done to your cervix that wasn’t assessed pre-pregnancy. now, we can repair the damage within the next two months, but it will still be difficult to become pregnant after the surgery,” the female informed you.

“then what’s the point of getting the surgery?” you scoffed, looking at spencer who was just staring off in space.

“while getting pregnant will still be difficult, maintaining the pregnancy is much more likely. the fetus would be more protected and secure after the surgery,” she explained with a pitiful smile, you couldn’t help but wonder how she could smile after giving you the worst news of your life.

“right,” you nodded curtly, allowing her to sense the mood of the conversation.

“i’ll leave you two be. i’m so sorry for your loss,” she gave the both of you a pitiful smile before exiting the room, the only sound audible being the closing of the door.

it didn’t feel real. it felt as though you were in a nightmare. only this time, you wouldn’t wake in spencer’s comforting arms. you wouldn’t hear the soft soothing voice of the man you love trying to calm you down. you wouldn’t feel the solace he would provide by merely being himself in your proximity.

the drive home was eerily quiet. there was an inkling of animosity between you. looking over at spencer in the driver’s seat, he had a dead look on his face, the only sign of previous emotion being his red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. he didn’t even look like your spencer. he looked like a stranger in the drivers seat with a cold expression that you could barely read.

you knew this was something you should talk about. when the nurse came back in the room it was only to offer a few referrals go therapists that specialized in this kind of grief. clearly, any couple should talk about losing an unborn baby. but you knew that’s not what spencer was truly upset about.

you waited until you shut the door to your apartment before saying anything.

“maybe we should talk about it?” you whispered, not knowing how he’d react.

“about what? the fact that you’ve lied to me for our entire relationship?!” he wouldn’t even turn around to face you. “i thought we were in this together, y/n. we aren’t supposed to keep secrets from each other - especially not any that just killed our child!”

“hey…” you winced at his words. “why would you say that?”

“that’s the truth! your choices when you were a teenager just killed our child! my child!” he finally turned to face you, and you wished he hadn’t.

“do you think i knew they would botch my abortion, spencer?! do you think that’s what i wanted?!” you stepped closer to him, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“i don’t know what you want anymore, y/n,” he shook his head, clearly exasperated.

“i want you. i want to get the surgery to fix my cervix. i want to grieve our child. i still want kids… with you, spencer,” you tried to ease the mood, calm him down. you reached your hand out to cup his cheek before he dodged your touch, afraid of touching you. “but you don’t want that?” you whispered so quiet, too afraid of the answer to raise your voice.

“i-“ he sighed and bit his lower lip. “i don’t know.”

“right. of course you don’t,” you shook your head before sitting on the couch, dropping your face in your hands.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffed as he took off his coat.

“it means that: of course, you’re making this about you! it can’t be about us grieving our loss together like the doctor recommended?!” you peeked between your hands at the man you still didn’t recognize.

“maybe we shouldn’t grieve together since we can’t even have a conversation without getting angry at one another,” he tried to reason.

“the only reason i’m getting mad is because you’re blaming me for my baby’s death,” you spat back at the doctor before you.

“because it’s your fault!” he stood strong in his belief. “when you were a teenager, did you or did you not have an abortion?”

“i did,” you admitted.

“and the nurse said that in said abortion, they screwed your cervix up! if you didn’t have that abortion, our child would still be alive! we would be on our way to become happy parents!” he accused, rubbing salt in the already stinging wound. “it’s your fucking fault!”

“stop saying that,” you shook your head and dropped it back in your hands, trying to hide the tears that began to flow down your face.

“it is, y/n! i can’t believe you’re even trying to say this isn’t!” he chuckled, clearly getting under your skin.

“shut up, spencer!”

“i can’t, y/n!” he sat in the chair across from you before standing back up, too hyper to sit. “no wonder it was so hard for you to get pregnant.”

“spencer,” you begged him to stop, meeting his face with your teary eyes.

“y/n,” he stared you in the eyes, and you saw a glimpse of the man you loved for a second before he retreated to the bedroom.

you sat on the couch in confusion of what had just occurred.

when you were 15, you’re boyfriend was adamant about taking your relationship “to the next step.” you didn’t think you were ready to have sex, but you wanted him to stay with you. so, you gave in. it just so happened to be that you were one of the lucky girls that ends up getting pregnant her first time in spite of birth control and a condom. you couldn’t tell your mom about your pregnancy, she’d have your head on a pole.

so, you earned enough money from your job to get an abortion yourself. you went to a clinic and had your boyfriend’s mom come with you to sign as your guardian. was it smart to get an abortion that cheap? probably not. but you had no other choice. your mom had made it abundantly clear that if she caught you fooling around with him that she’d kick you out.

you were 15. you were young and still had to finish high school. there was no support system for you. you would’ve been on the streets with a little baby - not to mention the amount of debt you’d go into for just giving birth to a child in a hospital. it was the only choice.

and now you were being berated for making the only choice you even had - and by the person you loved most in the world.

you curled into yourself on the couch, laying your head on the arm and crying into the fabric. you released all of the tension and turmoil. you held onto the cushions as if it were the man that you wanted - no, needed to comfort you. because as much as you’d hate to admit it and try to fight those thoughts, part of you thought that spencer was right. it was your fault.

you fell asleep on the couch that night. you didn’t have the strength to get up to grab a blanket so you just sucked it up.

spencer didn’t sleep at all. he was used to having you curled into his chest, or himself on yours. he felt terrible about how he had talked to you, but he was too stubborn to admit anything just yet.

in the middle of the night he went out of the room to grab a glass of water. he saw you curled up in a ball, you head resting on the arm of the couch as you slept. it was the most peaceful you looked in the past 24 hours. but you began shivering as you slept. you were probably too exhausted to get up to do anything.

he went to the hall closet on a detour and grabbed your favorite, soft blanket and laid it on top of your body. after placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he went into the kitchen and made his glass of water before taking one more glance at you. you had snuggled into the blanket, pulling it up to your chin with a gentle smile that always appeared when he kissed your forehead as you slept.

maybe he didn’t screw up too badly, after all.

the next few days were spent avoiding one another. spencer couldn’t face you after knowing you had kept something so dire from him for the entirety of your relationship. you couldn’t face him after he made you feel as though it was your fault you lost your baby.

you would stay on the couch all day, barely eating or drinking anything while spencer would go out - only mentioning the library or the office to do more paperwork. eventually he just started sleeping at morgan’s house - probably because he couldn’t stand being around you.

you didn’t know how to grieve your baby, you were hoping that spencer might help, but that clearly won’t be happening. on top of that, you were worrying about your marriage. he couldn’t even look at you, how was he supposed to talk to you and sleep beside you?

a lot of times, it’s perceived that the only reason women were put on this planet were to have children - of course that’s a false notion, but it didn’t make it sting any less. your body had betrayed you. you had betrayed yourself.

it was only 12 days after spencer left when he came back home, if he could call it that anymore. once he walked into the living room, he saw you curled up in that same position on the couch. you had a blank stare that was directed towards the black tv. the only evidence that you were doing something was the empty water bottles surrounding you - certainly not enough considering he’d been gone for over a week.

when he entered you didn’t even flinch. your gaze stayed on the empty screen and your face remained vacant of any emotion.

in all honesty, morgan was the one to tell spencer he should check on you. spencer hadn’t told him everything about your argument, he knew he was in the wrong. but he was just so angry. regardless, he was here now, and it’s a good thing he was.

you hadn’t been taking care of yourself. spencer had morgan and savannah checking on him, but you had nobody. he only realized this when morgan pointed it out. and as upset as he was, spencer would always love you. your expressionless face only worried him more. your clothes had been changed from when he last saw you, but he doubts you’ve had a shower.

he stayed silent as he began picking up the empty water bottles from around the table and couch. you looked at him quizzically with furrowed brows.

“what’re you doing?” you asked, your chin already quivering as tears threatened to stream down your face.

“i’m trying to help,” he whispered as sensitively as he could, making eye contact with the most pitiful face you’d ever seen.

“i think you’ve helped enough,” you rolled your eyes before resuming your serious stare-down with the television. “you can leave.”

“no, i can’t,” he replied, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch while being sure not to touch you - he didn’t know if you were ready for that.

“you already did,” you brought to his attention, briefly looking at him. “just go.”

“y/n, i-“

“i don’t want to hear it! what’re you gonna say that could make me feel worse, spencer?!” you let the tears fall past your waterline. “i know it’s my fault. i know i screwed up! and i’m sorry! i’m so sorry!” you replied with far too much sincerity, the tears streaming down your face before he scooted closer to you, planning on wrapping his arms around you. “stop! don’t come near me!” you pushed his shoulders away. “it’s my fault,” you lowered your voice significantly before wrapping your arms around yourself.

he had called emily as soon as he got back into the bedroom. he knew she had previously had an abortion when she was a teenager, and he just needed to hear her side of it. part of him didn’t even expect her to pick up the phone.

“reid, what’s wrong?” she immediately answered.

“i-i think i need to talk to you,” he whispered in a hushed tone.

“right now?” she asked in a mildly concerned tone.

“if you can? the sooner the better,” he answered honestly.

“alright. you want to meet somewhere or just come over?”

“can i just come over? it’s really personal and i wasn’t sure who else to go to,” he began tying his shoes and hoping she’d agree.

“of course, come on over,” she replied in a worried voice.

“ok. i’ll be there in twenty.”

he quietly left the apartment, not before sparing you a regretful glance. he lost his child, but you also lost your child as well. he just couldn’t control his anger. and partially, he thought he was right.

how could you not have told him about something so serious? the second you had began having issues getting pregnant, maybe you should’ve been open about previous pregnancies.

“hey,” emily greeted before giving him a hug after seeing his teary eyes. “come inside.”

“thanks,” he sniffled before stepping into her apartment.

she guided him into her living room and sat down on the couch beside him. they sat there for a few silent minutes before he was able to work up enough courage.

“y/n was pregnant,” he whispered, barely audible if she weren’t right beside him.

“was,” she pointed out, already feeling as though she knew the rest of the story.

“she uhm-she miscarried two weeks ago,” he somberly admitted for the first time to someone else. “the doctor said it was because she had an abortion when she was a teenager that somehow ruined her cervix.”

“and that’s why you felt like you needed to talk to me?” she gathered, she was a great profiler for a reason but this was far more obvious.

“i was pretty harsh. i-i told her it was her fault,” he bit his lower lip as he grimaced. “i really rubbed it in, too.”

“spencer… “ she sighed, taking a deep breath before continuing. “you’re mourning a life, right now. obviously, that would raise tensions and emotions would be heightened. but… have you apologized? for telling her it was her fault?”

“no?” he replied after thinking about it. “i was going to do that today but she’s… she’s not in good shape. i’m not saying she needs to be perfect, but while i was at derek’s i can tell she didn’t take care of herself. she barely drank any water.”

“did you ask her why she had an abortion? why she didn’t tell you? did you ask her anything about how she’s feeling?” emily asked once more.

“no,” he cowered down, feeling even worse about the truthful answer. “i was just… selfish. i didn’t think about how she’s feeling. i just-i feel so bad now, seeing what state she’s in.”

“when i got an abortion it was because i wasn’t ready for a child,” she began to inform him. “i was a child, myself. how was a child supposed to take care of another one? my mother would’ve been disgraced. i basically had nobody there for me. i kept it a secret because having an abortion is so controversial. i knew people would look at me differently for making a responsible decision for my future.”

“god, i feel so bad,” he began to tear up himself. “i love her so much and i told her these horrible things.”

“make it right, spencer,” she gave him a supportive smile and pat his thigh before he stood up.

“i-i have to go,” he wiped the tears from his face before giving emily a hug, grateful she would listen to him at such an ungodly hour.

he quickly drove back home, where he decidedly belonged in the first place. he never should’ve left home. he never should’ve left you. you were his home, and he didn’t know how he could possibly lose sight of that.

“y/n,” he cooed as he entered the apartment once more. it was noticeably a bit more clean. the trash was taken out, the dishes were done, and your hair was wet from a shower - he assumed. “hey,” he smiled when he saw you sitting on the bed, cheeks still red and tear-stained with red, puffy eyes.

“hi,” you sighed as you brushed your hair, spencer sat down beside you.

“how’re you feeling?” you shrugged. “i need to apologize to you,” he admitted, placing a hand on your thigh. “i’m so, so sorry for what i said. telling you that it’s your fault that we lost our child… i-there’s no excuse. i was clearly upset, but so were you. what i said was so out of line, and i’ll never be able to express how sorry i am to you.”

“you’re right,” you shrugged. “it was my fault.”

“no,” he rubbed his thumb on your skin. “it was not your fault. i’m so sorry i made you believe that.”

“when i was 15 my boyfriend at the time pressured me to have sex. we used a condom and i was in birth control but i still-i still ended up pregnant,” you began, taking a deep breath before continuing. “i couldn’t tell my mom because she would’ve kicked me out, so i saved up some money and had his mom take me to a cheap clinic. she signed as my mom and i got the procedure done. that was the end of it,” you finished tears streaming down your face. “a few weeks after the procedure i started having pains in like my lower back, but i didn’t think anything of it. so… it is my fault. i shouldn’t have gone to a cheap clinic, but i couldn’t live on the streets with a baby and no way to clothe or feed them.”

“y/n,” he got your attention, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “you were a teenager who had no other choice, love. it’s not your fault, it’s the clinic’s.”

“i just… it hurts so bad, spencer,” you shook your head in defeat before he wrapped his arms around you. “not even just emotionally, my body physically hurts so bad. i don’t know what to do and i thought i lost you and i didn’t know what i would do without you because i didn’t think you loved me anymore because it’s my fault,” you ranted out, sobbing into his shoulder before he moved the two of you around the bed to lay down, you on his chest.

“i’m so sorry you had to go through that, and that you’re still dealing with the repercussions,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “but know that i’m not leaving you. i love you and nothing will ever change that.”

“there’s nothing we can do now,” you whined, clutching to his shirt as if he’d disappear once more.

“we can go to the recommended therapy. we can get that surgery to fix your cervix,” he reminded you, rubbing circles onto your back as you sniffled. “then, if you’d like, we could try again for a baby.”

“so you still want to be with me?” you whispered by his ear, clearly worried of the answer.

“of course i do,” he said as if there were no other option; there wasn’t. “i’m so, so sorry, love.”

“the reason i didn’t tell you is because,” you sighed as you shuffled on top of spencer, now sitting on his lap and facing him. “because there’s this stigma that comes with having an abortion - and i didn’t know how you’d react. i also didn’t know it didn’t go well in the first place, but that’s a different story,” you chuckled. “i’m sorry. i should’ve told you about something so serious.”

“you don’t have to apologize,” he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “that was from your past. this is our future, we shouldn’t get caught up on it and allow it to ruin this.”

you nodded, “you’re right. are-are you staying here, now? or are you going back to derek’s?” there was an obvious look of hope in your eye that spencer never planned on squashing.

“i’m staying here,” he smiled. “home. you’re my home.”

“you’re so cheesy,” you rolled your eyes as a laugh left your lips.

“i’ve missed your smile,” he pressed a kiss to those very lips, your smile not going away but growing even bigger.

“i’ve missed you,” you pointed at his chest. “please don’t leave again.”

“i won’t. ever again,” you held your pinky out, he smiled and wrapped his own around it. “i’m so sorry.”

“we’ll work at it,” you sighed. “we’ll build back the trust and fix my stupid cervix and then maybe try again for a baby.”

over the next few months spencer and you had been going to therapy once a week, mourning the loss of your baby and working through your other issues.

five months after you found out about the miscarriage, you had the surgery to fix your cervix.

one year after you fixed your cervix you and spencer began talking about having a child. you were extremely nervous, rightfully so. you voiced your concerns to spencer about what if the surgery didn’t work? what if your cervix wasn’t the only issue? and he replied by reminding you that you would both take this one step at a time.

seven months after having the conversation with spencer about having children, a miracle had caught up to you.

you were pregnant.

taglist:

@averyhotchner

@greenprisca

@muffin-cup

@spenxerslut

@spencerreid9

@spencyreidpls

@spencerreid9

@spencersmagic

@calm-and-doctor

@the-local-pendeja

@spencersrose

@spencersmagic

@shemarmooresfedora

@pastelbabygirl19

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[merakiui]

hello!!<3 can i request an angst scenario (it can have a happy ending it's up to you!!) childe x fem!reader where they are together for some time and she didn't know he's fatui (she hates them bc her parents were in debt and overall they ruined her life and he's too scared to tell her) but she finds out and wants to broke up?? THANK YOU

In which you discover Childe’s ties to the Fatui.

cw: angst, debt, small mention of depression as a result of debt, female reader note - I woke up and chose pain with this one. >:) it also got long;;; oops!

You hate the Fatui. And although that’s such a strong, hurtful word it's your true feelings. You’ve never experienced their wrath firsthand, but you have witnessed what it can do to people. Your sweet, loving parents, who took loans out of the bank in order to pay for repairs to their shop, were reduced to frightful messes at the mere mention of that harrowing F-word.

It’s horrible to see them in such a state, especially since a few agents had come by once and practically demanded the money. As a result of such a distasteful discussion, you refuse to go into any sort of monetary career: trader, merchant, and even a wandering saleswoman. You’ll find a way to make things right by getting a job that will bring in lots of riches for your poor parents. Then the Fatui will have no choice but to leave your family alone.

Your own funds have dried up, having gone into another Fatui agent’s gloved hands. You can’t even argue because you have an inkling as to what will happen when you finally run out of money to give. Ever since this entire debt charade, your parents have become hollow shells of their former selves: paranoid, depressed, and starved of the happiness that comes with being in a regular, debt-free family.

Childe tunes into your rant as if someone had just turned on the switch that designates his listening skills. The two of you are sitting on a lovely hilltop, watching the stars twinkle in and out of focus. Liyue Harbor can be seen from afar, glittering in warm colors of gold and red. If Childe remembers correctly, another festival should be right around the corner. He’ll have to take you when he finds time to slink away from his work.

Speaking of his work, he’s never actually told you about it. When you asked, he simply said it was a job that allowed him to travel. It sounded like a traveling merchant to you—perhaps even a fishmonger specializing in exotic types—considering he was seemingly loaded with Mora. It made you jealous that he was so well-off with his finances, but you couldn’t complain when he so readily emptied his pockets for your sake.

“And then that stupid agent shows up at our door right when I get home! It’s the worst timing ever. My parents were pretending to be out of the house and I showed up and ruined their plan.” A heavy sigh tumbles from your lips as you flop back onto the grass, where Childe fixes you with a lopsided, sympathetic grin. “I hate it. They’re not even themselves anymore. It’s like they lost all sense of life. I’m picking up as many commissions as I can, but it doesn’t even help. The Fatui just take it all faster than I can save it.”

“They’re the worst, aren’t they?”

“And the sky isn’t blue. Of course they’re the worst!” You inhale softly. “No use getting mad about something that already happened, though.”

“You’ll just give yourself more stress and you don’t need that.” He joins you on the plush grass, turning his head to look at you rather than up at the inky night sky. “I can help with your commissions, you know. I’ve been itching to smash some hilichurl camps.”

“I can handle it myself. It’s fine.” Only it’s not and you’ve started realizing that. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Funny. I was going to ask you something, too!”

“Oh. Uh...”

He chuckles, staring at you with blue eyes that don’t sparkle. “There’s this festival coming up and I wanted to take you. It’ll be just the two of us for one night. You can forget all about work and money—”

“What about you? You said your job has you traveling all over the place. That’s why we’ll rarely see each other in the future. Once you’re done here in Liyue, that is.” You move onto your side, holding yourself up on your elbow. “I don’t think it’ll work.”

“Well, my boss doesn’t have to know. It’ll be our tiny secret!”

You roll your eyes, smiling a little. Deep inside you’ve always felt like something was off about his story. For the past few months, he’s remained in Liyue and once you even caught him slipping into Northland Bank when you were running some errands. You hope he isn’t in a similar situation concerning debt and poverty. No, he wouldn’t need to be. He’s shown you just how many lavish things his funds can afford. Why would he be in debt if he has a stable job?

“Are you...doing something bad?”

You could’ve phrased that better, but it’s already out in the open now. Sheepishly, you avoid his befuddled stare, opting to watch the moon as its light becomes obscured behind a dark cloud. An airy chuckle escapes him, but he doesn’t say anything. His silence confirms your fears and it dawns upon you that he hasn’t been truthful this entire time.

“This mask.” It’s in your hands before he can stop you. You’re tapping at it with a finger, equal parts curious and apprehensive. You refuse to beat around the bush; your doubtful gaze catches his and it hardens at once. “You’re Fatui, aren’t you?”

He sits up calmly, holding out his hand. “That’s quite the accusation, my dear. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“I’m not jumping to any conclusion. I’m right, aren’t I?” Now you’re sitting up, staggering to your feet to find some sort of leverage over him. He’s taller than you and far more powerful than he once let on. “Childe, why would—“

He sighs, lowering his hand out of defeat. “I suppose there’s no point avoiding it now. You were bound to find out one of these days.”

“One of these days? What? Like, when my family’s on the streets because the Fatui took our house?”

It hurts that he wasn’t honest and it hurts even more knowing that he has the power to help. He could’ve spent his time working out ways to get you out of debt, yet he decided to shower you in affection and useless trinkets! Trinkets that are only good for selling and receiving money to pay off the debt. You could cry; that’s how much it hurts. And when he makes no solid effort to comfort you, the tears begin to form.

“Of course not. I’d never let that happen!”

“Then why would you lie about it? Why not help me? Why can’t you just be honest? You always avoid questions you don’t want to answer and I hate it! I’ve been with you long enough to know that that mask is bad news. I was just waiting for you to confirm it, but you didn’t.”

You think it’s selfish for wanting his help—for wanting help from a Fatui agent, no less—but you’re too upset to care.

“(Name), you know that’s—“

“What else haven’t you told me? What else have you lied about? I don’t care if you’re trying to protect me. I’m already on a list. The Fatui still show up to my house and you just...let them. Why?”

“If I interfered, it would look bad in front of Her Majesty. You know I can’t go against her orders. I want to help you—I do. But...”

You’re fumbling for new words, at a complete loss with yourself. No matter how many questions you spout, he’ll evade them like they’re optional. And even if you want answers and honesty more than anything right now, you know he’ll fail to provide it. You shove the mask into his hands, shaking your head in disbelief. A swell of emotions overcome you: sadness, anger, and regret. You feel utterly betrayed. The sweet Childe, whom you once thought was your perfect match, is working for the Fatui—the people who have turned your life into misery.

And that’s probably not even the half of it.

“Let’s break up,” you say before he can spin another false tale. Another easy excuse to avoid this downfall. Childe stops short to stare at you in surprise and it’s weird to see that emotion scrawled across his face. He’s usually smooth and collected; he always knows what to say and how to act. Not this time, though. “It’s not going to work if we’re together while the Fatui are hounding my parents. And they wouldn’t approve of our relationship either.”

“Now, (Name), wait a moment. You’re not thinking straight. You’re just—” He struggles to find the correct words and in that small moment between foggy clarity and paralyzing uncertainty he plasters another plastic smile on. “Look. I know you’re upset, but I didn’t mean to lie to you. I was going to tell you eventually. Just had to find the right time to do it, you know?"

“I know. And that’s why we should go our separate ways.” Like Childe, you also put on a faux show, building up your walls as high and strong as his are. You don’t think you’ll last another minute in his presence, as you’re far too close to tears. “Thank you again for tonight. I’ll take my leave now.”

Rather than pain, it’s bitter when your lips fall upon his soft cheek. And the gesture stings harder than a slap on the wrist. 

The searing pain returns when you pull away and begin the descent from the hill as fast as your trembling legs will allow. You refuse to look back and fall into his arms in hopes that he’ll reassure you. The fact that he doesn’t chase after you—doesn’t even call out—stabs your conflicted heart and it’s more than enough confirmation. Childe isn’t exactly boyfriend material. He’s callous when it comes to a battle and he’s driven by his own ulterior motives. Surely this relationship was just a means of spending his extra time when he found himself bored and lacking a fight. Maybe he thought of his work when the two of you were on secretive dates. Maybe his heart was empty when the two of you were intimate. Maybe you were just the glue holding this crumbling bond together.

Childe remains on that hilltop, watching you disappear into the distance. And it’s then when realizes he’s lost you. The feeling is different from the battlefield and it’s far more real than when he’s snooping around as a Harbinger. You’re just a normal, good-natured citizen and he...ruined that part of you. With his ties to an enemy that has crushed your family. He’s partly, if not fully, responsible for what transpired just now and for the first time in a while real guilt gnaws at him. He’s left wondering why he did all of that—why he couldn’t just face your questions head-on.

It’s his fault, isn’t it?

On that windy hilltop, under the silent, disapproving darkness of the sky, he’s left to pick up the pieces of a fractured relationship. And it’s all because he couldn’t admit the truth to his precious girlfriend.

In a way, the Fatui have taken something from him, too, and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to patch it up with honeyed promises. 

Looks like we won’t be going to that festival anytime soon...

[stopeatingwhales]

second chance x damon albarn

i'm surprised i haven't written anything about dilf damon yet bc i've been so obsessed with him recently wtf. anyways enjoy x

i might do a second part to this, idk yet tho

Pairing: dilf damon x reader

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 2.786

Requested by anon <3

༉‧₊˚✧

“Do you want to come over?” I abruptly asked, the silence pouring through the line deafening my ears as my fingers toyed with the hem of my shirt. The desperation and moment that led to me ringing my ex-boyfriend at what was nearing eight in the evening seemed as though it was a fever dream, the words rolling off my tongue so delicately out of apprehension only a fragment of that trance. In all honesty, I had no idea as to why I rang Damon, or to what extent the string of thoughts guided me towards the action of calling - we had been broken up for around a year, and it came as a much larger shock that I was able to muster the amount of courage to tap his contact on my phone and attentively listen to the thunderous rings as the landlines attempted to connect, instead of quickly shutting the phone off before he was able to receive a missed call alert.

“Uh, um - are you sure?” he questioned, the stutter escaping his mouth insinuated that he was just as dazed at my sudden offer as me, the demeanour of his voice accentuating the idea that he was entirely finished with the ephemeral chapter of his life which had me intertwined inside as his partner; that he had gotten over me quicker than the momentary period our relationship lasted. My heart sank, realising how indigent I sounded, as if I had never gotten over him throughout our time apart - which I did, learning to live with myself was easier than I had thought it was going to be; the weeks leading up to the breakup stemming from the distance we shared apart due to Damon consistently being on tour and never providing enough time for me, for us, to consider one another as more than romantically acquainted, though that didn’t mean the gap in my heart had been sealed shut, it was simply brimmed with other, unspecial fragments of things which could only distract the thought of him for so long, until I’d discover myself adventuring for something else to hyperfixate my thoughts upon, though he always returned.

“Yeah…” My voice trailed off, so quiet that I struggled to sustain the volume. Though we had only just spoken, the trance that he had obtained over me for all those months we were with one accord, returned in an instant, having the same rush that a recollection of memories, pastimes that were once forgotten, crumbled to dust, had been reborn; ignited into a new bloom in the height of a harvest, resulting in the scolding of yourself upon how you granted the ability to forget such a thing. It seemed as if all those thoughts, ideations convinced to the point that I had gotten over him, were myriads of masks attempting to say it enough to believe it. Without a doubt, I had never overcome the strains of the acquaintance we shared - and I could only hope he felt the same way.

I heard his throat clear itself before his voice echoed through the telephone speakers once again. “Alright… I’ll be there in a bit.” he mumbled, those words bringing a soft, yet apprehensive grin to my lips. I had no idea what I was doing, or why, but it felt right.

It felt as if only the sum of a few minutes passed when I heard a distinguishable knock on the door; one that had not rang through my ears for an interminable amount of time, one that was able to send me months back in time to a period where he had significantly been a figurehead dictating the story. As I jolted up to answer the door, it felt as if things were normal again, back to how they used to be so many nights previous; me waiting for him to come home after he spent a long day at the recording studio, crafting what could only be assumed was the pure essence of talent, unlocking the door to allow my arms to envelop into an embrace cherished with affection and warmth, proving he longed to have my presence just as much as I craved his. Once my eyes met the sight of him, my heart dropped at the overwhelming feeling of my reminiscing about what once was, the nostalgia for a moment so authentically shaped with what could only be described as true love, my body yearning to relish in the sensation of his arms protectively wrapped around my body, a feeling which could only fulfill one’s heart with all that it desires. "Hi..." I trailed off, stunned by how similar, yet different his appearance was from when we last saw one another. His hair had the same shape, though it seemed a little shorter, his eyebags still prominent on his features, though it seemed as if they had sagged down slightly, posing the idea of whether he had been sleeping alright. His torso still adorned shirts with dark colours, amplified with one of his leather jackets which only made me more attracted to him. Widening the door, he set foot into the apartment, nodding his head lightly as a greeting. Although I was very elated to the fact that he was in my apartment, it felt eerie having him back here after so long, stepping foot into the space that was once served merely as a homely and secure space where we both could simply live and enjoy our time together, no distractions included.

Once I had followed him into the living space, he took a seat onto the couch facing the television. I attempted to make my footsteps omit as little noise as possible, as if to avoid damaging the awkward silence that had been shared between the pair of us. It went without saying that neither of us knew how to break the ice, or where this was going to head. One could only hope that the outcome of this meeting was positive. “Do you want something to drink?” I asked, ushering over to the cabinet adjacent to the television, supplied with all sorts of alcoholic beverages in which I had not touched, simply there as a point of manners to offer when somebody had come over. “White?” I offered, pulling out an almost-full bottle of white wine. I knew he hated it.

"You know I’ve always hated white." he mumbled, a small smile playing upon his lips. Something about that little grin plastered on his lips made my stomach flip and turn, welcoming a swarm of butterflies to accentuate the nervous pit that had formed within myself. The intense feelings reminded me of the same bewilderment your body undergoes during the first date; there is such a raw attraction to somebody that you know far too little about, but you are so hypnotised by their presence it is as if they’re the only thing in the world that matters, to the point that they obnoxiously overtake your mind, every little thought occupied with their name, wondering whether they may like such and such, like an infection spreading without you knowing such cure for it. The atmosphere was intense, carrying the same ambience of two strangers meeting for the first time in an isolated space, though there was also a refreshing element of familiarity that neither of us wanted to admit that we appreciated so deeply.

"Red?" I asked, snatching the half empty bottle as I placed the other wine bottle back in its designated place, turning my head back to fix my gaze onto Damon, raising my eyebrows as a form of derise for the drink. Nodding his head in response, I quickly took two glasses from the cabinet, brimming them both with the alcoholic liquid before slowly making my way to sit next to him on the sofa, handing him one of the glasses as he thanked me in response. The same devilish silence echoed in the room once again as we granted the situation to truly sink in - thankfully alcohol was present. As I took a sip of the beverage, I tried to gulp down as much liquid as possible before I spoke once again. "So... how have you been?"

"Good... Just came off tour actually. Was a really successful one." he replied, his voice laced with a slight tone of doubt, edging the regret of so eagerly returning back into a place that was once so attached to his occupancy. He carried on talking about how the tour had been, my head subconsciously nodding, attentive to what he was talking about. Each time he had told me about something new they had added, or something they had changed surrounding the live performance set-up, it never failed to blow me away. Him and Jamie together, working on such a creative idea and putting it to life on stage was truly something out of rare virtuosity, disregarding the lengthy old ramblings from Damon almost every night he had returned home about how much Jamie had pissed him off, having a petty argument as if it was a be or end all in their friendship. It was actually a good form of entertainment, seeing how riled up Damon had gotten simply because of something that Jamie joked in an interview.

Once he had finished talking, our eyes connected, uncertainty clouded in his eyes as he searched for the reason behind him needing to come over. "Y/N, why did you ask me to come over?" He said, abrupt, almost as if those words had been lingering at the back of his mind the entire time we had been in one another’s acquaintance; the ease of the sting of words rolling off his tongue softly implied that, perhaps a try to prevent the harshness of the asking from offending me in the slightest. "We haven't seen each other for a year, why now?"

Both gazes never dared to break contact as if we had attempted to communicate telepathically - the ideation of instigating a conversation as awkward as how this had become, the two of us simply wanting the ground to swallow us whole. His gaze had the ability to put me into a trance upon which I wouldn’t be able to think of anything else except for the utter magnificence that was birthed into his loving eyes. Inhaling sharply, I tried to collect the thoughts in my brain that had been travelling in all directions, searching for all sorts of different possibilities that the conversation could reach. "Can we give it a second chance?" I asked absentmindedly, the realisation of what had just rolled off my tongue not settling in my mind until his eyes widened, speechless and shocked at my sudden questioning.

Sighing, he cocked his head to the side. “Love, we didn't work out the first time..." he began, my heart dropping to my stomach as the thought of him breaking my heart again entered my mind. His expression quickly softened once he saw my face drain colour, explaining all that he needed to know about how I had coped since he had left the picture. "I don't want to hurt you again."

Breaking away from the stare, I gawked at the dark shades of red that had adorned the transparent glass clasped in my palm. Holding in my emotions wasn’t going to do me any justice, and since he was here, it would not make sense for me to stupidly avoid the whole reasoning behind me needing him inside my apartment after so long. “It’s been so hard trying to get over you,” I mumbled, my voice almost inaudible out of embarrassment, though I knew he could hear me. “I need you.”

What I didn’t see from my shameful gaze at the ground, was the miniscule beam that broke out across Damon’s features. What I was unaware of, my body encompassed in such a impotent state of pure isolation, was that Damon had been as dependent on hearing those words escaping my mouth before he could admit the same to himself. Though it had all been answered to me as he softly brought his arm to caress my arm, gently squeezing the skin as a form of reassurance, implying the notion that he understood, that he felt the same way, after all this time. We broke up not because we lost feelings, but because the emotions we carried for one another were too strong to handle, too intense to progress with, that when he was gone for those long hours it had left me in such a stupor of helplessness and melancholy that it was unbearable to handle without it tarnishing my health. Unsurprisingly, at this point we knew where the conversation was headed; my desires to be swathed in his arms once again that I had tried so hard to banish to the back of my mind, to the depths of my distant memories in which by reliving such a hug came flooding back, my body leaned into his touch almost instantaneously, a subconscious reflex that I had craved, such an embrace that no other person could give, the mere side hug from him was able to banish all the pain that I had tried so diligently to mask away for the past few months.

We sat there for a short while, taking in the moment as it had played throughout, our breathing syncing together as comfort relished in the atmosphere, our minds now finally at peace while all the conflict that had battled our minds over the time we weren’t together. "Let me come on tour with you." I said, my head resting against his shoulder.

A chuckle erupted out of his throat. “It’s not that easy love.”

"Why can't it be? You're literally the frontman!" I exclaimed, lifting my head off his shoulder to connect eyes with him. "Damon, it would be so fun!" I exclaimed, attempting to encourage him.

It was as if things had mended back together, all the cracks in the pavements had been glued together to mend the time lost, as if it had never occurred. Through all the hardship I had faced trying to find the remedy to my heartache, I was dumbfounded to realise that it had been sitting in front of me, at the top of my phone’s contact list, right in front of my eyes this entire time. His eyes were calling out to me, enveloping my heart in comfort and warmth, the hunger radiating out eager to the ideation of starting anew and preserving the time in which we had lost, building new memories, unfastening the lock on the clock dictating the length of the relationship, allowing it to elongate, carry on as long as we could. My heart brimmed with homeliness - the house I was inside finally feeling normal to me once again.

"I'll see what I can do," he grins, the beautiful sight causing a small smile to erupt on my face as my body melted back into his arms once again. "No promises though."

It felt nice to wake up next to someone again the next morning, on the mattress that once was a carcass of many tears of sadness and melancholy, authentically conveyed by the essence of nihilism embodied from isolation, the kind of philosophical beliefs one could only develop an understanding towards subsequent to irrational thinking as the hours fell still, leaving you sat there, reliving the last moments from your memory bank with the significant other you had soiled ends with, a person who had supported you from the very beginning, even when things formed a bitter congestion to the relationship devoured by both participants, perhaps from the acceleration of argumentation shared, or the distance that had started to weave its way between, leaving you both stranded to conclude, as if you were both on separate, desolate islands fighting against the starvation of progressing through your lives and starting anew, departing from the old knots and attachments formed once epitomising pure adoration and love, though over time spawning to be the offspring of the devil. A person whom you knew would make your bed every morning, cradle you in his arms at the darkest hours to baptise the negativity coiled in your brain, whispering what seems like sweet nothings, merely sounding like soft raspy groans due to them being exhausted out of their mind, but you knew they were saying something to you, you could hear it, acknowledge it in a language that nobody else was able to understand. I relished in concession that he who lay beside me was the one that bestowed and epitomised all the things that I once lacked a night before. A lover.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

My friend is a big fan of you as well and asked me to request this:

A Janus fic based on the song Monster by Dev https://youtu.be/5iA_oFDNt9E

I think the song could fit him quite well, maybe with the others being like “out of all of us, h i m???”

-🦑

Songfic?? With Janus angst?? My time has come *ascends*

CW: Unsympathetic Light Sides (they're not assholes but they're basically unsupportive, concerned for Reader, and hateful/distrustful of Janus)

...........

Call the doctor, call the doctor Must be something wrong with me He's a monster, why do I want ya Please tell me, please tell me

"What?!! [Y/n] this..this cannot possibly be true!"

"Roman-"

"You could've had any one of the fine gentlemen here...but more importantly me.."

"Roman, just calm-"

"And yet you chose him?! That wretched slimy snake?!" The princely Side pointed rudely at Janus, who was just sitting on the couch beside you. He frowned as he fiddled with the chain of his capelet, finding more interest in that than the uncomfortable conversation currently taking place.

This wasn't even the direction you nor him expected it to take. It was already going south..straight towards hell.

All because Remus couldn't keep his mouth shut and blurted out the revelation that you and Janus were dating.

Ironically, he was the one who confessed to you first--something that you're certain no Side would ever believe.

"There's got to be something wrong with your head." Roman shook his head in dismay, before approaching you. "Come now. We'll find you a true Prince Charming! One that's not a vile fibber like-"

Suddenly you sprang up, moving away from him. "You don't get to choose who I fall in love with. Remus.." You glared at the dark half of creativity. "I'm gonna kick your ass if you don't leave right now."

"Do ya promise~?" He giggled, refusing to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation. "You know I'm into that."

"Let it go, [y/n]." Janus tried to assure you. "They're both bumbling fools."

"A fool?!" Roman gasped. "The only fool here is YOU!! Trying to tempt them with your false promises of love and affection! What do you know about romance?!"

"Apparently more than you." You interrupted, standing by your lover in a defensive manner. "I know this isn't exactly how I planned to tell you but god just calm down for a minute."

You definitely didn't anticipate this kind of freakout from him. You thought he'd be asking about the how's and when's of falling in love, as one would expect from the "romantic expert" of the Sides.

You had a plan to tell all of them individually, but..starting with the guy who was deceived most and openly mocked his name probably wasn't a good idea.

Eventually the two halves of creativity left you both alone. And only then did you sit back down next to the now-dejected Janus, holding his hand. "Sorry you had to hear all that."

"Oh don't worry, it'sss new to me." He muttered, squeezing your hand in turn. "I'm sure Roman will have a tough time realizing he's definitely the most handsome one around here." The smirk he gave made you chuckle.

"Yeah, well..he'll get over it. We got off on the wrong foot with him, but I'm sure the others will be more accepting."

He's a monster He's a monster That boy, he's a motherfucking monster But I love him, yeah I love him Ooh ah, ooh ah ah

"Seriously? That guy?"

"Just hear me out, Virgil-"

"Oh I've heard plenty. I'm just warning you that it's a bad idea." Virgil huffed as he put his phone down. "He's a monster who's gonna use you for some selfish gain. You've seen it. He only cares about himself and hurts people to keep it that way."

"I know you've known him longest but...I'm pretty sure at this point he's moved past all of that." You pointed out. "Honestly, the only one being hurt here is him. First Roman, and now you?"

Despite your arguments, he just didn't seem convinced. "I'm not doing this to give you anxiety...I can only do that to Thomas. And I'm not gonna say "breakup with him right now". I'm just telling you that he's not what he seems."

"I appreciate your worries, but I love him and that's that." You insisted, crossing your arms over your chest as you stood defiant. Obviously it was in his nature to tell you to stay cautious, and he'd probably say the same if you were dating anyone else.

But calling Janus a monster seemed awfully harsh. You haven't even heard him call Remus that, which was odd.

'Seriously why is he being such a prick?'

"..whatever you say." Virgil shrugged before sinking out, leaving you alone by the staircase.

"I wouldn't worry. His opinion of me has never changed."

You realized Janus was eavesdropping and turned to face him, sighing. "Jan, are you doing something that's making them be so... brutally honest? This just seems unusual for them."

"Not that I'm aware of." He had briefly removed his glove, indicating he was tell you the truth.

"Hm..then again, Roman and Virgil are sorta the least-rational ones. One's jealous that he doesn't have a date and the other overthinks a lot."

"Wonderful observations, my dear."

"Patton and Logan are more down-to-earth and clear-headed so they might have more understanding."

"I'm sure they will." Janus' tone didn't match the optimistic words he uttered as he slipped the glove back on. "Oh and..I'll try not eavesdrop anymore."

Little did you know, that would be two lies.

Most people are scared When they look him in the eyes, all they see is fear (but) Let me make this clear I want him near

"How can you look into his eyes and..and.."

"Go on."

"And not be scared?! I know I would be, kiddo."

"...Patton, is that seriously your only argument? That he looks creepy?"

"No, no! I just..." For a moment the fatherly Side paused, before he sighed and patted your shoulder. "Listen, I do think you're being a good influence on that wriggly snake but...I only worry he's being a bad influence on you. Every time he's near you I-"

"It sounds like your only argument is "he's a creepy crawly snake so I shouldn't trust or love him". Is that all?"

"It's...a bit more complicated than-"

"It's a yes or no, Pat."

"...I'm trying to look at the bigger picture and, sure there's some good in him but..I worry he's gonna hurt you in the end, that's all. Like he hurt us several times by impersonating us." He tried to reason, but you just brushed his hand off your shoulder in disbelief.

"Wow, I didn't think you'd be one to judge books by their covers." You frowned slightly. "Well let me make this clear: I want him near me. I feel safe around him. I love him, outward appearances and all. So if you can't accept the way I see him then...we're done here."

With no more defenses, Patton sank out as you left the room. But in the hallway you spotted a familiar capelet vanish around the corner, and you found Janus, who manifested a brown eye contact over his snake eye. His scales almost vanished under his skin, but you called out to him before they could disappear entirely.

"Janus? I thought you weren't going to-"

"I..n-never expected Patton of all people to say that.." He held the side of his face shakily, keeping his head lowered so you didn't see the gradually forming tears. Only now he was starting to feel the impact of everyone's words. "If..it's my looks then...I can surely make adjusssstments.."

"No, sweetheart. You don't have to change your looks or be anyone else for me." You cupped a hand over the one that still covered the scales. "C'mon. You can't seriously believe Patton's dumb reasoning, right?"

"........."

All you got was a silent nod.

Most people can't sleep Feeling he's out, on the streets (but) He is my creep He is my creep

"While I see your relationship to Janus is beneficial-"

"Actually, nevermind. You're just gonna tell me the same shit everyone else did."

"...now [y/n], remember what we've discussed on cognitive distortions-"

"Jumping to conclusions? Overgeneralizing? I know. But I have valid reasons for those. You all think Janus is gonna hurt me because he's some "freaky selfish snake". But he's not, alright? He's been more truthful with me lately and I'm sick of the others not believing anything we say. So please, Logan..can you take my side for once?"

Logan was surprised by your outburst. He didn't even know you've talked to the others about Janus and assumed he'd respond in a similar fashion.

But he adjusted his glasses and looked at his notebook, all traces of emotion vanishing. "Logic can't take sides. If you would just listen..I've observed that your interactions with him have been generally positive, and that's helped Thomas-"

"There you go again..why does everything always gotta lead back to Thomas? Can't you just recognize Janus as his own person without assuming I'm only dating him to help-?"

"Because he can't be distracted from his core function!!"

You jumped a bit as he slammed down the notebook, scowling at you with a slight orange tinge behind his glasses. Though it was quick to disappear as he sighed. "He can never be his own person. You two will never have a truly normal relationship. I only advise that you keep that in the back of your mind."

And just like that, he left.

Every discussion you've had with a "Light" Side only left the bitter taste of frustration in your mouth...

Now what should you-?

You were startled again as you heard a nearby door slam shut, before realizing who overheard this conversation.

"Shit."

Is he human, does it matter I know he's what I'm after I can reel him, from disaster I know

"So..th-that's how they all see me, huh? A monster..n-not even a person."

"Jan.." Joining your boyfriend on the king-sized mattress, decorated in black and gold much like himself, you could finally see those walls he built up now crumbling to pieces.

One way or another, he heard what every Side had to say about him. And it was more than enough for him to realize they not only shun him for simply existing..

But they refuse to accept the idea that he's worthy of love, too. He can take the name-calling and insults in the videos, but this is what truly broke him.

He just scratched at his scales, his human eye already red and raw from crying as he wondered why you went through all of this just for him.

Any sane person would listen to the others and just breakup with him. He wasn't worth the effort.

You clearly deserved better.

You deserved someone who's more handsome, chill, kindhearted, or sensible-

"I know you can't truly be human but..does it matter?"

"...does it?" He sniffled, leaning into your touch more as you ran a hand through his hair. "Because apparently not. I know I'm not a perfect, flawless individual..I-I don't expect any of us to be. But if only I-I never-"

"Jan..you can't focus on what you can't change. I know you feel guilty, and if the others can't see that...it's their own fault. I won't stop fighting for us and for your happiness. I love you, okay?" Turning to him fully, you cupped both sides of his face and looked into his eyes.

"And in case you think I'm lying, I'll say it again: I. Love. You. None of their words will change that."

Hearing you become so determined to love him despite all odds made him sob again, this time from relief, as you put your arms around him.

Nobody's ever taken his side on anything...and certainly never defended him the way you did.

You felt several extra arms manifest to hug you back, and you smiled, closing your eyes.

Maybe in time the others will understand. But while it's true he looked like a monster and had his deceitful ways..

You knew what you were after.

And so did he.

Call the doctor, call the doctor Must be something wrong with me He's a monster, why do I want ya Please tell me, please tell me

[felswritingfire]

April Brain Rot #12

Prompts:

53. Marble

Riddle Rosehearts x Reader

Summery: You met a cursed Riddle Rosehearts when you were 6- you've been sneaking out to meet him ever since. Now you're an adult and determined to break his curse and find his friends despite the stress of home.

TW: Implied Abusive relationship (Mother/child)

Word Count: 1,589

A note from Fel: If y'all do not ask me for a continuation of this- my girlfriend will- that is not a threat that is a promise.

“What have I told you about following rules?” You wince at the tone of his voice. Riddle had always been a stickler for rules- ever since you first met him.

You were a child then, running away from your shrieking mother- raging about some sort of vase that you accidently bumped into and broke- and hiding in the forest just beyond your backyard. You had tripped, your palms colliding with the twigs and stones and your chin following afterwards. You lay there for a few moments, your small body heaving with each shaky breath you suck in. You whimpered at the stones digging into the open scrapes on your palms as you pushed yourself up. You hiccuped, sitting up and looked around. The sun was setting, bathing everything in an orange glow. The shadows of the trees were an inky black and the cries and creaks of the forest seemed to be amplified and you sniffled, standing up and looking behind you. You didn’t know where you were, but you didn’t want to go home. You didn’t want to hear your mother scream again.

You hiccuped again, waddling further into the forest on your shaky legs.

By the time that the sun had dipped below the mountains and the night sky was coming to eat the rest of the day away, you had stumbled onto an old mansion’s garden. You had been awed by the vines that were creeping over the crumbling walls and the black gates that barely hung to their hinges. You squeezed through the gates to see a statue standing in the middle of the overgrown garden of flowers.

It was a boy: short in stature despite the heels he wore, his eyes looking down forlornly at the rose in his hand and his lips were pulled into a thin line. You stared up at him, eyes sparkling as you pressed your hands against the smooth marble of the statue.

You gasped when the surface bagan to crack, bits falling off as the statue began to move and breath. A gasp escapes him as a sheet of marble falls from his face and steel grey eyes and red strands fall from their previous position. He stumbled forward and you held out your hands like you were going to catch him-

“(Y/N)!”

You wince again, being pulled out of your musings of the past by a pink faced Riddle. “Yes, yes- I know. I’m sorry.” You pick at the grass despite that being the rule you broke not too long ago.

He folds his arms, squinting at you. His frown twitches into something more concerned the longer he looks at you. He finally sighs and moves to sit next to you on the dried up fountain. “Are you alright? You-” he brushes his fingers under your puffy eyes- “have bags. They’re very dark, you know?”

“Really?” You rub at your face, feeling sheepish suddenly. “I thought I covered them up enough. Guess not, huh?”

He pouts.

“I’m fine, really, Riddle.”

“Don’t lie to me.” His tone stern and unwavering.

“Ah…” a breathless giggle leaves you, “you know me too well, don’t you.”

“Of course! I’ve known you since you were 6 after all.” He’s smug as he crosses his arms.

“Yeah. I’m old compared to back then, eh?”

“And you’ve become a wonderful adult.”

You hum and look down at your hands, your fingers intertwined with each other, suddenly feeling exhausted.

Riddle’s eyebrows crease and his frown grows bigger. He places a hand on your back, gently rubbing circles against your shoulder blade. “What’s wrong?”

You look up at him, your eyelids feeling heavy. “My mom… She… Ah, Riddle- I don’t know what to do anymore.” You whisper. “Everything I do isn’t good enough and she always pulls the ‘I’m sick so I can be completely awful about everything.’” Your sight began to turn glassy. “And there’s-” you suck in a deep breath trying not to cry- “there’s no one else I can rely on to help take care of her. And she’s started getting more and more angry about me leaving at night-”

“Does that mean you’ll stop seeing me?” Riddle’s voice is quiet as he asks you that.

You look up at him, shaking your head. “No! No- never. I still have to break your curse and find your friend.”

He smiles almost bitterly. “I’m not sure how we’re going to do that, Rose Bud. I’m sure that Trey and Che’nya are long gone… and my curse…” He shakes his head. “I don’t even know where to start.”

He had told you about Trey and Che’nya multiple times- each time he looked more and more wistful and lonely. They had been his best friends, from what he told you. “We’ll figure it out! You mentioned that they were both there when you were cursed right? So maybe they were cursed too.”

He grimaces. “I hope not. It’s simply awful.” Suddenly his eyes droop. “Why would they leave me though?”

You wrap your arms around him, feeling his face heat up against your skin as you press your cheek against his. “I’m sure they didn’t know. I wouldn’t expect my friends to be a living statue.”

“I wasn’t.”

You blink, pulling away from him yet you still kept your arms around him. “Hm?”

“I wasn’t a living statue until you touched me.”

You hummed, pressing your face against his again. You felt your head swim with thoughts. From your mother to how you were going to help Riddle. Even the strange looking cat that hung around the bakery you loved so much. A thought began to bloom in your mind: maybe… maybe-

“Hey, Riddle.”

“Hm?”

You look at him out the corner of your eye. He was leaning against you, holding your hand. You feel your heart beat faster as you lick your lips before you begin: “you know all those fairytales? The ones where… where true love's kiss breaks the curse?”

Riddle’s eyebrows furrowed. “Yes?”

“Do…” You gulp. “Do you want to try it?”

A strangled noise leaves him as he jerks himself away from you. “What?”

“I mean-” you wave your hands around, a blush climbing up your neck and cheeks- “it’s the one thing we haven’t tried!”

He clears his throat, smoothing down the front of his vest, glancing at everything that wasn’t you. “I- I well yes- but-” he looks at you, his face the picture of flustered. “How do you know I love you?”

“You do, don’t you?” Your voice was high pitched and panicked.

“I- I- of course I do! Do you?”

“Yes! Of course!”

“G-good!”

“Let’s- I- um-” you snapped your mouth shut, staring hard at him with a determined expression and a red face. Your hands shoot out grabbing his cheeks and dragging him to you, pressing your lips against his. You two stay like that, not moving, barely breathing.

You’re both red faced by the time you finally pull away from each other. You feel yourself practically vibrating. And you assume Riddle is too by the way his hand trembles in yours. “I- I-” you try to steady your shaking voice, “Do you feel any different?”

His bottom lip trembles as he closes his eyes. His brows furrow and he frowns. “No. No, I don’t.”

You frown too. “Oh.”

“B-but maybe we- we have to do it again?”

Your eyes widen and you gawk at him before nodding feeling ecstatic. “Ok.”

By the time you two had stopped pressing soft kisses against each other- both of your lips were tender and your cheeks felt like they were stained a permanent red. Your breaths intermingle as you press your foreheads against each other. You stare into Riddle’s eyes, feeling yourself drown in the depths of his grey eyes and the way that the morning light put gold flecks in his-

You gasped. “Riddle!”

He lets out a dazed noise, a wobbly smile on his red lips.

“Riddle! Riddle! It’s- it’s morning!”

You almost burst out at Riddle’s face: he looked like he just got hit over the head with a metal bat. He looks at the sun and immediately recoils with a hiss. “It- the- the sun!” He tries to look at it again and squeezes his eyes shut with another hiss. “It burns!”

“Don’t look at the sun, silly!”

His pained hisses bleeds into a giddy laughter. “It’s the sun, Rose Bud! The sun!” He pulls you up and traps you into a hug, spinning you around with him.

You shriek with laughter. “It is! It is!”

“We- I- we have to have a talk with your mother!” Riddle suddenly turned serious. “I need to have a word with her. I need to make clear to her how she should be treating you! There are rules that my mother beat into me at a young age and obviously she isn’t understanding them-”

“Before that!” You start to tug him out of the woods. “I need to go and take you to that bakery! The one with the weird cat- I think his name is Alchemy, or something- and Mr. Clover! I always get you your tarts from there-”

“Wait- Alchemy? Clover?”

You nod, looking confused. “Have I never told you their names?”

He lets out another laugh. “Let’s go, Rose Bud!”

You feel the giddy emotions spread through you, never having seen him this excited in your life. You’ll deal with your mother later, right now you and Riddle were going to drink in the sun.

<The Next Chosen Character>

Thank you for reading!

[softomi]

Overdue

prompt:  I know I’m running late – I’m sorry. Things haven’t worked out the way I planned. But believe me when I tell you I am on my way.

- A Postcard by Lang Leav

pairing: atsumu x reader (ft. osamu)

general taglist: @graykageyama

Being the older brother, even if by mere minutes, Atsumu always felt that he had to look out for his sibling. After all, his mother instilled into him that no matter what, he should always be there for Osamu and vice versa. On many occasions Atsumu took that to mean that he could take his stuff, as long as he returns it (which he never does), because after all, they’re brothers.

On other occasions, it meant that Atsumu had to learn to be the first to set his pride aside. He reasons its because he’s the older brother, but Osamu knows that Atsumu is just too clingy to stay mad at his brother for a long time.

But there were many times, many days, many fleeting moments where taking care of his younger twin made him think “I wish I didn’t have a brother.”. Yet, the moment something happens to Osamu, he’s quick to act as the third parent.

“Why are you so stupid!” Atsumu screams at his brother’s back, “You shouldn’t have climbed that stupid tree.”

Osamu turns on his heels, gritting his teeth, “Shut up! You did the same thing last week!”

“Yeah! Well!” Atsumu is balling his fist, their mother entering the room due to the commotion, “What if something happened to you? Huh? Mom would blame me for not watching you!” The young Atsumu begins to blubber, “What if something happened?”

Osamu learned at the young age of ten, just how much being the older brother put a toll on Atsumu. So on their eleventh birthday, Osamu decided to give Atsumu a birthday present.

“I’ll be the older brother this year!” The young boy declares, “So it’s my turn!” He points at his confused brother, “To take care of you as the older brother.” For something so seemingly simple, Atsumu was star struck with the idea.

And every year following, they took turns being the big brother.

They even drew up a contract, the big brother responsibilities contract. As the older brother, you must take care of the younger, you will take responsibility for the younger brother’s actions no matter how stupid, and above all else, the older has to sacrifice things for the younger brother. Signed by both Miya Atsumu and Miya Osamu.

When they were thirteen years old, Osamu took care of Atsumu when he caught the flu. When they were sixteen years old, Atsumu used the last of his money to buy pizza for his hungry brother. When the clock struck midnight, signaling their seventeenth birthday, Atsumu asked for the money back. During their twentieth year, Atsumu took a month off school and training to help Osamu set up his business.

“You don’t have to.” Osamu tried to reason with his brother.

Atsumu lifted a box from the back of the rented van, eyes staring up at the glow of the restaurant sign, “It’s what big brothers are for.”

Osamu stops Atsumu by the shoulder, “We’re not kids anymore, who cares about the big brother crap.”

“I do!” Atsumu scowls.

Osamu realized at the later age of twenty, that Atsumu clings to the title of older brother. As he watches his brother carry the box into his new restaurant, Osamu wondered if there would ever be a point where Atsumu would stop being there for him. But he also wondered, if there would ever be a moment where he could finally grant Atsumu release from the title.

At the age of twenty-three, you waltzed into Atsumu’s life.

Atsumu likes to say that it was a meet-cute. You like to say that it was the day he tried to take your head off. You interned for the Black Jackals as a sport psychologist. On your very first day, as you walked the sidelines towards the coach; you heard a mere shout. You ducked out of reflex, just barely missing the ball as it smacked against the ground behind you. Atsumu jogged with an apologetic expression and a compliment that your reflexes were killer.

Throughout your internship, you refused to go out with Atsumu. Even though the first time you bluntly rejected him, Atsumu says that you never truly said that he didn’t have a chance.

“You said.” Atsumu liked to push your buttons sometimes, “I remember.” He’s got a silly grin on him, “The first time I asked you out, you said ‘Sorry, I don’t date athletes I work for.’” Atsumu looks at the time on his phone, he takes your badge off you, “Your internship is officially over. You no longer work for the Black Jackals. One date, it’s all I ask.”

It truly wasn’t the romantic date. He was shamelessly taking you out to eat at his brother’s restaurant. You were no stranger to his twin but when you two sat in the booth, Osamu coming over to personally take your orders; Atsumu wasted little time in announcing, “Order anything you want, the most expensive item even. My big brother is paying.”

“I thought you were the older brother Atsumu?” You vaguely recall Atsumu mentioning Osamu as the younger twin.

Osamu rests a hand onto his brother’s shoulder, his grip causing Atsumu to yelp, “Yeah, we like to do this thing where every year we switch off being the older sibling. I just can’t wait! For our twenty-fourth birthday. I’ve been eyeing a new set a knives that’ll match the new dish machine I’m planning on getting next year.”

“Hey hey, we promised a limit!” Atsumu shouts.

That was the first date of many and loving Atsumu came easily. He kissed your fingers with eagerness, held you like you were the most important person in the world, and gave you all of his undivided attention. Atsumu followed you like a map leading to hidden treasure that was your lips.

You were perhaps everything he could have ever wanted, everything he ever wished for. For the first few months of the relationship, you wondered why previous girlfriends of his would ever let him go. He reasons that they all said he loved many things, but they were just simply not one of them.

Atsumu knew that when he loved something, he was always there. He attends every volleyball practice, he attends the family Sunday dinners, and he attends your college graduation.

But just like Atsumu had mentioned, he loved many things.

“Hey. Where are you?” You were shivering, hands wrapping around your arms.

“Shit.” Atsumu speaks, “I’m so sorry babe, I was helping Samu pack his things. He’s moving apartments and you know how he is, he does things last minute so I’m making sure he’s starting early.”

“Okay.” You breathe out, “But did it have to be today? This was really important to me.”

“It’s just a gathering. Samu really needed my help.” Atsumu clears his throat, “But if you want, I can head over there right now.”

“It’s fine.” You speak, “Just, next time, be here.”

“Of course!”

Osamu looks up at his brother, “Were you supposed to be somewhere else?”

Atsumu grabs some of the empty boxes, “Yeah, y/n was getting together with some of her friends. Something about introducing me to them I think.” Atsumu’s foot hits some of the book he’s stacked on the floor, “Dammit Samu, how many cookbooks do you need? You’re such a hoarder.”

“You should have gone.” Osamu watches him stack the books neatly into a box.

“Then no one would be here to help you.” Atsumu clicks his tongue, “Mom and dad are out of town, the guys are all busy, even your girlfriend isn’t over here helping; good pick there Samu.”

A book smacks Atsumu on the head, “You’re so stupid!” Osamu throws another book at him, “You ruin my life.”

Atsumu grins, sticking a tongue out to his brother, “You ruin my life too.”

If volleyball was his first priority, Osamu would be his first, first, priority and you concluded, you must fall behind both. That night was the first of many, and loving Atsumu became harder.

“Just go!” You threw your hands to your side.

Atsumu was hesitant, a jacket in his hand, “Look, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” He takes a step to you. You turn your head away when he leans in for a kiss, instead, he presses a slow peck onto your cheek, “Samu just really needs me right now.”

“Yep.” You state bitterly.

“I’m sorry. Happy birthday.”

It’s the last thing he says before he runs out the door. Instead of eating the cake with you that night, he spends it taking a drunk Osamu home, patting his brother’s back as he vomits into the toilet bowl. Even though they were twenty-seven, Atsumu took responsibility to make sure his brother was okay.

“I think we should break up.”

Atsumu thought you were joking, “Hahaha, very funny babe. You have my full and undivided attention.”

“I’m serious.” Your expression didn’t falter.

The cheery sound of the restaurant didn’t match the way Atsumu’s world was crumbling. He was still in disbelief, “What?” He tried to put up a smile, “Stop joking.”

The brief tune of happy birthday is played in the background, the workers clapping along as they sing.

“Atsumu, I just feel like I didn’t know what I was getting into when I entered this relationship.” You were trying to keep him calm, you’ve known him for five years, you’ve loved him for five years; just as hard as he loved, it was hard to let go.

You gathered your things. Atsumu slammed a hand onto the table, “Stop!”

The restaurant quietens, a spotlight on you two as you sit back down, “Atsumu.”

His phone rings. You raise a brow, his brother’s contact showing up. Atsumu picks up the phone, “What?” Atsumu frowns, “Now?” He hangs up the phone, “I have to go.”

You rub the back of your neck, “Of course.”

You two walk out of the restaurant together but you leave alone.

“Samu?” Atsumu walks into his brother’s restaurant, “Everything good?”

“We’re getting married!” The two in front of him wave their hands in his face. It was almost taunting, “I proposed this morning.” Osamu can’t help but stare into his lover’s eyes, “I wanted you to know first before we tell mom on Sunday.” When Atsumu doesn’t answer, Osamu checks the way his brother’s fists are balled, lips in a scowl. Osamu knew the telltale signs, like they were ten years old again, Atsumu was about to break, “Tsumu.”

“Couldn’t this have waited!” Atsumu, quick to anger but quicker to tears, “Couldn’t you just have told me on the phone.”

“I thought you’d be excited to be the first one to know.”

Atsumu uses his hands to push away stray tears, “I have to go.”

At twenty-eight, Atsumu feels as though the weight of the world was on his back. The silence of the apartment was like a gunshot wound and you packing your things shot another bullet into him.

“Let’s talk.” He’s refusing to let you leave.

You set the suitcase onto the ground, “Atsumu.”

“Don’t call me that.” He wants to sound strong, because he has to be strong, “You never call me that.” But he can’t sound strong when it feels like he’s losing everything he’s ever wanted.

“Atsumu.”

The more you said his name, the more it hurt, “I can fix it, whatever is wrong, I can make it better. I can be there more, I’ll stop being late, I’ll clean the whole place for the rest of our lives.”

“Let me ask you something.” He’s hopeful at your words, “If we got married, if we had kids; would Osamu still be your priority?” Your words felt like a blow, “Because I’m okay right now, as your girlfriend, I am okay. I understand that he’s your brother and you absolutely love him to death. You run to him when he needs you and he runs to you. But when I look to our future, why do I still see you running to your brother.”

“We don’t need to worry about that.” He takes your hand into his, “We just have to worry about right now.”

“But even right now, it’s always later.” Palm rested onto his cheek, “I’m sorry Atsumu.”

He holds you by the wrist, “Give me one chance. One more time to prove to you. It’s all I ask.”

Maybe it was the way he was so sincere, just like the day you fell in love with him, “Okay.” His shoulders are lifted when you whisper, “Next month on the 20th, I leave for Tokyo. 4pm. Send me off.”

“That’s it?”

You nod, “That’s it.”

He marked it on his calendar, set reminders leading up to the day and for the days in between, he was there. He was at every lunch, always home early, wrapping you in his arms to remind you of the bliss. But the closer the day got, the more anxious you felt. The more you wondered if he would remember that the 20th was a Sunday.

“I’ll meet you out front.” He kissed your lips, “I promise I’ll be here to send you off.”

You kept your arms wrapped around his neck, “Okay. I’ll wait for you.”

Atsumu was on edge the entire day. He checked his phone constantly; it didn’t help that his phone went off every hour to remind him. Nothing, he was thinking nothing would ruin the day.

“What’s up Samu?”

“Hey, so did you want to take the same car to mom and dad’s?”

“What?”

“It’s Sunday.” Osamu spoke, checking the calendar just in case, “Yeah, it’s Sunday. So you wanna take the same car or what.”

Atsumu looked at the time, four hours until you were to leave, “I don’t think I can make it this Sunday Samu.”

“Why not?”

“There’s something important I need to do today.”

“Okay, but you know you’ll have to make it up to mom.” Osamu sighs, “Her precious boy missing will be like the end of the world to her.”

Atsumu laughs, “Yeah yeah yeah. I’ll see you guys next Sunday.”

At two hours left, Atsumu was prepared to arrive earlier. A bouquet of flowers in his passenger seat as he drove down the highway, ready to greet you, ready to keep you in his life. Then his phone rang.

“Samu, seriously, I’m not coming.”

“Atsumu.” This wasn’t the voice of his brother, it was his fiancée, “We won’t be able to make it to the dinner either, are you sure you can’t go?”

“It’s fine babe, it’s not that serious!” Osamu’s voice heard lowly in the background.

“Not that serious? You’re in a hospital bed.”

“I just bumped my head.” Osamu yells.

“You have a concussion!” She shrieks back at him. Her tone lowered when she turns back to the phone, “Atsumu, you still there? Samu said you had something important to do today and it’s totally understandable if you can’t go to the dinner; but maybe you could stop by the hospital; they want to keep him over night, I could go to the dinner and explain to your parents.”

An hour and thirty minutes until you leave.

Osamu’s fiancée ran out the door the moment he stepped in. Atsumu scowled at his brother, “What stupid thing did you do this time.”

Osamu is happily eating a jelly cup, “Climbed a tree.”

“Of course, what if something happened Samu?” Atsumu lightly pushed Osamu’s head, “You’re so stupid.”

“So,” Osamu tosses the empty cup into the trash, “What’s so important today that you are skipping dinner?”

Atsumu looks at the time, “Y/n is leaving for Tokyo, she’s got some work to do there for a few days.”

Osamu notices the way his brother looks pressed for time, “So romantic, you’re gonna send her off.”

“You’re not gonna die are you?” Atsumu’s leg is bouncing.

“No.”

“This is why I said you gotta be careful Samu.” Atsumu’s phone goes off, he stops the alarm.

“Look, if you need to leave then go.”

Atsumu crosses his arms, “I can’t always be there for you!” His voice was starting to get louder, “I can’t always be responsible for taking care of you!”

“Okay!” Osamu’s growled, “You didn’t have to come here!”

“If I didn’t then who else would be here!” Atsumu began to weep, his lips in a scowl, “I’m older. I’m the older brother, through and through, if I wasn’t there for you, who knows what would have happened.”

“You act like you’re ten years older than me!” Osamu barks, “You’re only 4 minutes older! Stop treating me like I’m a burden! You’re the older brother, so what!” Osamu falls back onto the bed.

Atsumu’s phone goes off again. An hour left.

Osamu looks at the anxiousness in his brother, “Just go.” Osamu waves a finger, “Whatever it is that’s going on between you two, it’s more important than me. Just go.”

Atsumu doesn’t waver, “But.”

“You wanna sacrifice for me, get out of here.” Osamu catches the way his brother’s lips twitch to a smile.

“I’ll bring you back food, whatever you want, just text me.”

Atsumu is running out the door. Forty-five minutes left when he enters his car. He curses when he hits a red light. Fingers finding your contact, your voicemail plays in his ear.

“I’m on my way!” He’s shouting, heart beating out of his chest, “Please, believe me, I’m on my way. I’ll be a little late.” He’s heavy breathing, “but I’m coming.”

Fifteen minutes left but he’s still twenty-five minutes away. You listened to his voicemail, waiting patiently on the sofa. You have to start getting ready to go. You wish the elevators would move slowly, maybe get jammed for a second. Even as the taxi pulls up, you linger outside of the car door.

“I’m sorry, could we just wait a few more minutes.” You say to the driver.

Five minutes passed.

“Do you still want to wait?” The driver asks.

A sigh leaves your, “No.” You were already behind schedule, “Let’s go.”

You stare at your phone screen, hoping for a message from him. The sudden jolt of the car makes your head collide with the passenger seat. Your hand rubbing the throbbing part of your head as you hear the driver yell about a lunatic.

“I’m here!” Atsumu ignores the driver, banging on your window, “See, I’m here.” He’s pulling the locked handle of your door, frustrated that it wouldn’t open.

When you unlock it, he swings it wide open. Out of breath, he’s pulling you by the back of your neck; the kiss making your head spin. Before you can even register it, the sunlight bounces off his fingers; a gold band sitting between his index finger and thumb.

“And I will always be here.”

“Oh my god.” Your jaw is dropping, “What are you doing.” He’s getting on his knee, your breath caught in your throat, “Don’t.”

“Will you marry me?”

Your palms are pressed together, your fingers pressed to your lips. There’s a long pause and you take his hands into yours, “No.” The way his smile falters makes your heart clench, “Not like this.”

“What do you mean? This is what you wanted right?” He holds the ring out to you.

You run a hand through your hair, “I only wanted you here and you did that. You’re here.” You take the ring, settling it against his palm, “That’s all I ever wanted, that’s all I asked.” You pull him by the cheeks, squishing his face with a smile on yours, “You proved to me that you can be here; I mean you’re late but we can work on that.” You peck his lips quickly, “We can talk about marriage another time, but I wasn’t asking you to propose to me. It’s a really cute but very extreme gesture.”

His eyes are brimming with tears, “I thought I’d lose you forever.” Atsumu was truly soft hearted.

Your phone goes off, the alarm breaking the air between you two, “Shoot.” Your hands fall from his cheeks, “I’m late. I don’t think I’ll make it to the train.”

“I’ll drive you.” Atsumu perks up, “Right here, right now.”

“You’re kidding.” You laugh but the thin smile on his face says otherwise, “You’re literally so busy. You have volleyball practice tomorrow, it’s Sunday you’re parents are expecting you for dinner, and what if something happens to Osamu while you’re gone.”

“Practice doesn’t start until nine in the morning, I can make it back if I don’t sleep; my parents aren’t expecting me today, and Samu is in the hospital with a concussion plus he has his future wife. He doesn’t need me anymore.” Atsumu rests a smirk on his lips, “Give me something harder.”

“Wait, Osamu is in the hospital?”

Atsumu blinks, “Yeah, that’s why I was late. Oh yeah, I borrowed this from Samu too.” The ring twirls on his finger.

“You were going to propose to me with your brother’s ring.”

“Hey!” Your gaze shoots behind your shoulder, the cab driver pressing his horn, “Am I taking you or not?”

Atsumu is apologizing to the driver, grabbing your bags from the back of the car, he still pays a hefty tip to the driver for the inconvenience. As the driver leaves, Atsumu lifts your bags with one hand, the other extending out to you.

“Shall we go on a road trip.”

You take his hand, lacing your fingers with his, “But first, we should stop by the hospital; you need to return the ring.”

“You’re right.” He nods, “It’s too ugly for you. You need something big, something grand. I’m thinking diamonds.”

You cackle while settling yourself into the passenger seat. Two hours into the drive, Atsumu peeks at your sleeping figure. His thumb rubbing against the back of your hand. He presses a kiss your fingers. He knew all too well that diamonds would never suit your taste. You were about simplicity, less was more, actions louder than words. How he was going to propose, what ever ring he was going to choose, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was you; that you were with him and that with one phone call, he’d be running to you.

[keijiluvr]

JUST SOME BOY

Pairings: Atsumu x Reader

Warnings: Implication of cheating, angst

NOTE: this is my first time writing about hq boys so i’m sorry if it might be ooc :( also pls be nice about this, i know it sucks but anyway here you go!

Part 2

Being in a relationship with Atsumu for more than a year now really has been wonderful for you. You felt happy, comfortable and content with him. You make each other happy as giggles and laughter would leave your lips, pulling the other’s body closer to them. Affection wasn’t really an issue as kissing has been normal for the both of you. Subtle hand holding and nuzzling against the other’s neck has been a routine most of the time, eager to just feel the touch of the other. Mornings filled with soft smiles, brushing the other’s hair and leave kisses all over their face.  

Both of you know each other like the back of your hands, being able to know if something’s troubling the other and be able to talk about it and work things out. You were able to support him throughout his struggles especially with volleyball and he’s always there to listen whenever something’s bothering you. It was safe to say that you can imagine yourself staying in this so called fairytale for a very long time. 

But it didn’t last that long. 

It started two weeks ago. That gut feeling that something’s wrong, screaming and begging at you to listen. No matter what you do, it wouldn’t disappear as it clawed its way up to your mind, disturbing your thoughts as it pushed it to the back of your mind and let itself stay inside your head for a while. It’s been bothering you for days. You thought it was just you being paranoid or a common feeling of nervousness but why would you feel like that? 

“Tsum?” 

“Sorry, Coach told me to stay behind to practice more on.” 

You brushed it off, it didn’t really matter to you as long as he got home safely and that he’s okay. This would happen sometimes and you’re always waiting for him in the apartment, ready to reassure and relieve some stress with him. You’ve been his anchor, always keeping everything grounded and steady and he liked it. How come things started changing? 

However, the constant late night practices started happening frequently as excuses kept on piling up. 

“We have an important match coming up. I really have to practice.” 

“Bokuto-san wanted to practice more on his spikes, he needed me.” 

“The team stayed a bit longer to practice some more.” 

That’s when that gut feeling kept nagging at you, resulting in countless negative thoughts running around your mind while you stay in your shared bedroom, alone and awake as the night settled in. Did something go wrong? Did you do something? But then you would feel foolish for having that kind of thoughts. You would reassure yourself, repeating a mantra in your head that everything’s fine, he just needs time to practice. 

It was like a constant play of a broken record inside your head, not letting the fear eat you whole. It was scary, frightening even but you should trust him, you do trust him. 

So you lived as if you have nothing to worry about, understanding that he has to prioritize his career first and that everything will go back to normal soon. He’d start coming home early after the match, you’d feel his skin on yours, the apartment would be filled with laughter and new memories. You hoped it would be like that soon. 

It felt weird, today feels weird for you. It wasn’t that good kind of weird, it was the opposite. Your hands felt clammy, your heartbeat setting an uneven pace and this gut feeling, the familiar gut feeling but much more intense than before. It felt as if something bad is supposed to happen today, as if your body is sending alarming bells to you, trying to warn you about the possible future events that may occur today, that you need to prepare yourself for something. 

But what could it be? 

Going back to reading the text messages you sent to your boyfriend, you felt anxious. Why would he leave you on read? Did something bad happen during their practice today? That might not be the case since someone from the team would’ve called you right away if something happened. You felt silly, crazy even due to how paranoid you are. Who could blame you though? It’s been hours and he hasn’t even thought of replying to your texts. 

You’ve thought about so many possible scenarios, even reaching the point of something happening to the gym. Hell, enough scenarios just to put your mind on edge that causes your legs to shake due to nervousness.  

Reaching for your phone quickly, you inserted the passcode as soon as you heard the familiar ding coming from your phone. 

You bit your lower lip, forcing yourself not to let out a sigh, to show your disappointment. What did you expect though? No matter how hard you try, nothing will change. He prioritizes volleyball over anything. If it’s practice, it’s practice. You should know that by now as you were always there for him, supporting him and cheering him on as he does the thing that he loves. But why can’t you ignore this gut feeling? That same gut feeling that’s been desperate to grab your attention, to make you listen that something is obviously wrong. 

Maybe it’s telling you that an accident might happen so without giving it a second thought, you decided to text the person who you’ve been friends with for a while just to check up on Atsumu.

You were in a state of shock, completely still as you read the message over and over again. Your grip on your phone tightening its hold as your chest felt heavy. Blinking, you haven’t even noticed the tears as they fell, landing on the sheets below you. Your mind whirling with endless amounts of negative scenarios, a bunch of what ifs making your heart ache more. 

But this isn’t the time to mope around and drown in negative scenarios. You need answers, you need to hear the truth and you know the person that can answer every question that you have. 

Atsumu realized that he came home late once again, letting out a sigh as he shut the front door behind him, trying to be quiet as possible too since he noticed how the lights are turned off indicating that you might have fallen asleep. Biting his lower lip, he was on his way to the kitchen to grab something to eat when he noticed someone sitting on the couch. 

“Y/N? You almost gave me a heart attack.” He let out a chuckle, sauntering over to you but felt himself stiffen. 

There you were, hugging your knees close to your chest. Teary-eyed, you looked up at him, “Where were you, Atsumu?” 

“What? I was at practice like everyday.” 

“Don’t lie to me, please.” The way you begged, desperate to know the truth even if it will hurt, even if it will break you. It would be better to know the truth rather than pretending to be living in a healthy and stable relationship with someone you once knew. 

As he stood there, you couldn’t even recognize him anymore. Nothing changed with his physical appearance but it felt like you were talking to a stranger, to someone you barely even know anymore. Your chest tightening as your eyes welling with tears. “Please.” You sobbed 

Holding out his hand, he tried to wipe your tears away. However, you turned your head to the side, not wanting to feel his touch, knowing you’d crumble more in his grasp. Instead, the hand was left hanging in the air as you avoided his gaze, wiping your own tears. Defeated, he sat beside you, watching you carefully. “Did someone tell you?” His voice small. 

You let out a humorless chuckle, wiping your fingers to your shirt as you faced him. “Someone told me some things. You weren’t staying at the gym to practice more, Atsumu. He told me how you would always be the first one to leave practice, always in a hurry yet you always come home late.” You whispered the last few words, voice cracking before clearing your throat. 

Pathetic, you felt pathetic. As the warning bells continued to ring inside your head, you couldn’t help but cling onto one positive thought that maybe, maybe he’s working on something for days and wouldn’t tell anyone. That maybe he was just busy and didn’t think of telling anyone. 

But why would he lie to you? Why would he pretend to be at practice? 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I was planning on telling you but I guess I’ve been a coward for avoiding it. I met someone, Y/N. She makes me happy. I’m sorry you had to find out like this.” 

That part of you that has been trying to give you hope started diminishing at his response. That small part of you that was believing and trusting him, the one that you held onto so so so tightly disappeared, leaving you falling into the void.  The fact that all of the effort and progress that you’ve been trying to do lately came crashing down onto you, pushing you further into the darkness. 

It triggered you. His words triggered something beneath you. I was planning on telling you. I’m sorry you had to find out like this. 

Is he being serious? You felt as if he wasn’t being sincere for his actions, for what he did to you. It felt like it had no effect on him that you found out. If you didn’t find out today, would he still keep on doing it? But what pierced through your heart, what kept repeating in your head was those words. She makes me happy.

Did you fail? Were you not enough? Did you not make him happy? 

It felt as if your body moved on its own, standing up abruptly and slapped him across his face. For once, you didn’t regret your actions. He deserved it. Looking down at him, you tried so hard to memorize his face. Before he could utter another word, you were out of his sight. 

You clenched your fist, feeling your palm burning as it serves as a reminder that you hit him before running to your room to pack your things.

“It looks like they’re coming back.” 

Turning around, you eyed the stadium with a soft, little smile. The banner with his team on it proudly shown as people gather to view the details of the upcoming match. Your gaze landed on his picture, content as you saw how happy he looked especially with his teammates. 

That night, it was the last time you saw him. It’s been almost a year now and admittedly, it’s been tough to get back on your feet but you’re almost there. Your heart might still long for him, it might still ache since there are days that the pain becomes unbearable but you’re thankful for the people around you that have been patient enough to guide you back to your feet. 

“Who’s that? It looks like you know him.” Your friend asked, pointing at the guy you’ve been staring at.

“Don’t worry about it, he’s just some boy.” 

It might be a long process, the healing but you’re willing to undergo through the long process until you can finally move on from everything without feeling the pain, the ache and the misery. For now, you’re just happy for him for achieving his dreams. 

[simonsrosebud]

the one where someone doesn’t know who kevin day is, pt. 3

part one two four five

kevin has a talk with them the next morning before practice.  or more of just him storming into the lounge and going off.  the four freshman are there, too, but he doesn’t quite care.

“dalton isn’t fucked up like the rest of us!  there’s a reason i didn’t want any of you meeting or even knowing about him and it’s not because i hadn’t fucking come out yet.  he’s not a fox, and he’s not even thea.  he’s not involved with exy, he doesn’t know about riko and me and the moriyama’s and the rest!  there’s a lot of shit he doesn’t know about yet and none of you had the right throwing it all out in the air last night just to have a fucking laugh.  tell me, was it funny?  was it fucking funny getting him shitfaced just to get some answers and take the piss?!”

dan stands, and kevin holds a hand out.  she looks to andrew, but his silence sides him with kevin.  “kevin, we were just trying to-“

“you have no excuses, dan.  none of you do.  you were trying to make a fool of me and my boyfriend for nothing.  and now, i have to go cure his curiosity of the things you all said.”  and he storms out.

wymack doesn’t stop him.  if anything, he looks mad at those left.  “the fuck did you do to him to make him skip practice?!  you realize that’s never happened so long as he’s lived, right?!  we don’t have protocol for the day kevin skips exy.”

meanwhile, dalton doesn’t actually have that many questions.  the numbing of alcohol for a face tattoo is understandable, especially knowing that kevin’s sober and therefore must have had a problem.  the cracker dust he asks about just because he doesn’t know what it is- he doesn’t like it, but trusts kevin that he’s done with it.  he’s seen the scar along kevin’s hand, he already assumed it was from a surgery.  the edgar allen thing was too vague for him to be curious about, but he does ask- not about, the father comment, but if he’s okay about it.  kevin tells him this much;  that he transferred from edgar allen to palmetto because he’d known for a few years that wymack was his father, and that he didn’t have the courage to tell him until last year.

kevin thanks the gods that dalton doesn’t ask about or seem to remember any mention of the yakuza.

they’re at kevin’s suite because he knows they’ll have a few hours by themselves with everyone at the stadium, but only an hour in there’s knocking on the door.  dalton has his lips on kevin’s- he’d just said how he likes having access to his “real smile”.  “gonna get it?”  kevin shakes his head.  the knocking starts again.

“come on, kevin!  we’re sorry!  just open up for a second!”

kevin knows dalton likes when he speaks french, so he sighs and kisses him before whispering, “i hate them all.”

dan is at his door with matt and allison in tow.  “what do you want?”

“to apologize.”  kevin raises his eyebrows.  “look, we take the piss a lot and you never seemed to be visibly affected by it, so we didn’t realize that last night was upsetting you until you left.”

“you said never have i ever seen kevin have a meltdown.  why do you think you’ve seen that?  because i’m a toddler?  you know what i’ve had my reasons.”  riko.  the moriyamas.

“i know.  look, we don’t want to give you excuses.  i-i don’t have an explanation.  you’ve always kind of let us take the piss without saying anything, and we took it too far, especially last night.  andrew looked like he wanted to kill nicky for the yakuza comment, but neil talked to him about it before we went to the stadium this morning,” she whispers the last part because she’s not stupid, and kevin huffs.

matt jumps in.  “we wanna make it up to you, man.  you’ve obviously hid him from us for a reason and we proved you right.”  kevin honestly wants to get back to dalton and he wants it to just be over with.  “bring him to the winter banquet, we’ll be nice.  if anyone says anything i’ll punch em.  neil will chew em out.”

kevin grimaces.  the ravens will be at the banquet.  it’s in just over a month, the second week of december.  he’ll have to tell dalton some things by then.  and he might have to say something to the public.

he doesn’t tell him anything.  not yet, at least.  he still has three weeks until the banquet- he hasn’t even asked dalton yet.  he starts to like away games a little more than before, though.  he gets dalton a little postcard from every new state they go to.  he tapes them all to one of the walls of his room.

he’s on the phone with dalton at an airport general store, even, when he gets interrupted by two girls.  he puts on his press smile before he even notices.  “hold on, d.”

he doesn’t love fan interactions.

when they leave, dalton asks him with amusement if he’s got fans now, and kevin kind of decides he should probably tell him some more about his life because jesus, does he have fans.  he needs to tell him about he and riko.  what they were, what they were to fans of exy, what kevin was to fans of exy.  what kevin was to riko- without involving the yakuza.

but he doesn’t, because dalton never brings up the topic of “fans” again.

he doesn’t tell him until a week later, when he wakes up from a nightmare.

dalton’s leaning over him, speaking, but all kevin sees is riko riko riko.  it takes all of two seconds for dalton to back off.

“hey, hey, it’s me, it’s dalton.  you’re safe, you’re in my apartment.  no one else is here, i promise.”

kevin’s breathing so hard, dalton flicks the lamp on and he just crumbles.  he sits up and presses his hands over his eyes, “i’m sorry.”

“can i touch you?” he nods.  dalton’s sitting at his side, cross legged, and gently pulls kevin’s hands off his eyes.  “you don’t have to be sorry.  i know there’s shit in here,” he lightly lifts his hands to hold kevin’s face and taps his temple with a finger, “i don’t need to know what it is, just know you don’t have to apologize for it, and know you’re safe.”

kevin nods and twists to hug him.  and dalton wraps his arms securely around kevin’s back.  he presses a kiss to the top of his head and mumbles “c’mere” to prompt kevin into climbing into his lap.

dalton slides his fingers through kevin’s hair and it’s just so soothing, it nearly puts him to sleep.  and when dalton lays back down kevin stays wrapped around him with his cheek pressed to his chest.

when kevin wakes up it’s to find they’ve switched positions overnight.  dalton’s got his arm lazily draped over kevin’s waist, almost holding him close like a pillow.  his ankle is thrown over kevin’s, and his head is pressed into the back of kevin’s neck.

kevin doesn’t want to move.  in fact, he stays so still so as to not wake dalton, that when he stirs kevin just shushes him and pulls dalton’s arm back around him.  he holds his hand close to his chest.

dalton’s not stupid.  he knows kevin’s awake and nuzzles himself closer.  “you like being cuddled.”

“you’re the one doing it, not me.”  but he definitely tilts further into the pillow to expose his neck when dalton starts kissing up the side.

“you like being the little spoon.”  and pushes himself up over kevin.  “you like when you’re on the bottom, kev.” he kisses him deep into the mattress despite morning breath, and noses down his neck.  “i like it.”

kevin tugs at dalton’s hair.  “and what… what about it?”

ahaha.  aha.  sex.

anyway.

he tells dalton everything afterwards.  he leaves out the yakuza part, and the fact of neil’s past, because that’s another monster.  but he tells him the rest.  who his mother is and why he’s such a big deal in the exy world;  why he really left edgar allen and came to the foxes;  the tattoo that’s buried under his chess piece and what it meant.  what his relationship with riko was really like, and everything about their past and the abuse he endured.

and he fills him in on what triggers him because of that: small pitch black rooms, confined spaces without an easy way out, holding his hand too tight, the mention of riko moriyama, a lot of other things.

and dalton stays. 

so kevin asks him to the banquet.  when he says yes, he asks wymack for help arranging an interview.  there are enough people and press lingering outside the exy banquets, and he’d like to hold his boyfriend’s hand on the way in this year.

it’s scheduled to be live the morning before the banquet.  it’s with sophie silletti for espn college exy, and she posts about it as soon as it’s booked.

kevin sits with her.  it’s nothing like kathy ferdinand.  they talk strictly about exy and eventually, with his pre-approved questions, she brings up thea’s team’s most recent game.  “and forgive me if i’m wrong, but you and thea muldani split recently, yes?”

kevin nods.  “back in may, i’d say.  we’re still friendly, i have the utmost respect towards her.  in the end it just didn’t work out.”  i haven’t talked to her in months.

sophie nods.  “everything happens for a reason, i’d like to think.”

“of course.  it wouldn’t have led me elsewhere.”

“is that hinting at something?  i feel we don’t normally talk about this, but does kevin day have someone new in his love life?”  

kevin palms are sweating.  he hopes his face isn’t red with nerves.  “i do, actually.  i won’t say anything about him for his own privacy” i don’t want the public’s prying eyes “but we’ve been together for a bit, now.”

sophie is grinning, she feigns surprise.  “i heard you say him, did i not?  anything else to tell us?”

he keeps his smile easy, but he can feel the worry in the back of his head telling himself they can see right through it.  “if you’re asking, then sure.  i’m a bisexual man, so yes, my partner is also a man.  this is the first time i’ve ever announced it to the public, actually.”  as if that wasn’t the whole point of today.

“at least your fangirls can keep their hopes up, then, yeah?  still got a 50/50 shot!  and i’ve got to say, i feel honored you trusted me and my show with a milestone like this.  coming out certainly is a big deal, or at least nerve wracking!  how do you feel?” she laughs.  “is it like a weight lifted from your shoulders?”

“i was never too stressed about it.”  lies.  “some will hate, sure, but my job is the game.  if my fans are true then this won’t change that.  speaking of,” and then it’s back to exy.

wymack drives them back to palmetto, and when they’re close enough he says, “i’m proud of you for doing that.”

“thanks.”

“where am i dropping you off?”

kevin knows andrew and neil probably watched the interview, and he doesn’t feel like dealing with whatever they’ve got to say about it.  so wymack drops him at dalton’s who hugs him as soon as he opens the door.

“you watched?”

“of course.”  he kisses his cheek.

all posts/updates relating to this au can be found in the “OC: dalton miller” tag!

extra content

[waitimcomingtoo]

Swedish Fish

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: at an awards show where you and Tom are nominated for a lot of awards together, you poke fun at the rumors about your relationship

Masterlist

“Hello!” A journalist greeted you and Tom as you approached her on the red carpet of a low stakes award show. “You two are looking amazing.”

“Thank you.” You beamed, feeling the excitement of the night settle in with your first interview.

“Thanks so much.” Tom nodded in appreciation as he rested his hand on your back.

“So you two are nominated for quite a few awards tonight. How are you feeling? Nervous? Excited?” The journalist asked before holding her microphone out to the two of you.

“I’m really excited to be here. I’m more excited to be Y/n’s date, though. Look at her in this dress.” Tom stepped back so the camera could get a better look at your long red dress. “She’s better than any award.”

“Stop it. I don’t want to be flushed in the interviews.” You leaned against him as you briefly buried your face in his neck to hide your blush.

“Aw.” The journalist pouted at the camera. “So you two came here together?”

“We did. Almost all our nominations are together so it seemed like the right thing to do.” You explained as you kept one hand resting on Tom’s shoulder.

“That was my excuse for why I asked her.” Tom joked. “I really did it because I wanted to make everyone jealous that I had the prettiest date.”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes. “He just wanted me as his date because he knows I bring snacks.”

“You brought snacks?” The journalist laughed into the microphone.

“I did.” You nodded excitedly. “I have like 6 types of candy in my bra. I have cookies and chocolate in my purse. You don’t even want to know where I’m hiding a granola bar.”

“I really want to know now.” The journalist raised her eyebrows at you.

“I’ll find out later and let you know.” Tom winked and you smacked him playfully.

“It’s the Nature Valley kind though so I’m scared to eat it.” You laughed. “They’re so crumbly.”

“Maybe you can step outside and eat it. Like a little snack break.” The journalist suggested.

“I could. I’ll do it during one of the boring speeches.” You joked.

“Who’s speech would you leave during?” The journalist asked you.

“Probably Tom’s.” You stated and he nodded along it humor you.

“Yeah. I tend to ramble.” He shrugged, making you laugh.

“Alright well I’ll let you guys get to the rest of the carpet.” The journalist said. “Thank you for chatting.”

“Thank you! Enjoy the night.” You waved goodbye to her as Tom picked up the train of your dress to make walking easier.

“She didn’t ask if we were a couple.” He whispered in your ear as you posed in front of the photographers.

“Are you upset that she didn’t?” You laughed as you looked at him.

“Frankly, I’m a little offended.” He said through a smile while keeping his eyes straight ahead.

“Don’t be. I’m sure we’ll get asked soon enough.” You told him. As far as the public was concerned, you and Tom were just friends. After being nominated for multiples joint awards for your performance as a couple in Far From Home, you had made a plan to tease the media if you won in an attempt to get them to stop asking if you were together.

“They better.” He grumbled in your ear before the both of you laughed.

He kept his hand on your back as you walked to the next journalist, the train of your dress in his other hand.

“Hi!” The journalist smiled happily at you as you stopped in front of him.

“Hello!” You matched his energy with a bright smile.

“Hey. How are you?” Tom asked politely.

“I’m doing well, thank you.” He nodded. “You two have quite a buzz around you tonight. Apparently you’re the couple to watch.”

“Any couple that’s half Tom Holland is a couple to watch. Haven’t you heard of Gyllenholland?” You raised an eyebrow and laughed.

“But that’s a bromance.” The journalist protested. “This seems more like a romance, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Unfortunately, we’re not together. There’s just something about me that he doesn’t like.” You sighed dramatically and looked away, making Tom and the journalist laugh.

“It’s the face. I can’t get past it.” Tom played along as he squished your cheeks between his fingers.

“So you’re really not a couple?” He asked as if he didn’t believe you. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Nope. Just friends.” You shook your head.

“Best friends.” Tom grinned at you before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“You two are adorable.” The journalist commented. “And you’re nominated for a lot of awards together tonight, aren’t you?”

“We are. And that’s the way it should be. I think people enjoyed our movie as much as they did because of what we created together. It was a two person job and I’m glad it’s being acknowledged as such.” You answered honestly, making Tom’s heart soar.

“Not all of the nominations are for the both of us, though.” Tom brought up. “Y/n is nominated for best actress. And guess who’s presenting that award?” He smiled proudly.

“That’s right! Congratulations.” The journalist praised you.

“Thank you. I’m really grateful for all the nominations.”

“I’m so proud of her. I can’t wait to give you that award later.” Tom looked at you fondly.

“If I win.” You reminded him.

“Of course you’ll win.” He scoffed. “I voted for you everyday.”

“Thank you.” You rested your head on his shoulder momentarily to thank him for his support.

“So if you do win one of the joint awards, who gets to take it home?” The journalist asked you.

“We’ll just have to win them both I guess.” Tom shrugged playfully.

“I hope you do.” The journalist smiled. “I’ll see you guys out there. Good luck.”

“Thank you.” Tom shook his hand before leading you towards the entrance of the building.

“Should we find our seats?” You asked him as you checked your lipstick in a compact mirror.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” He nodded before taking your hand and walking with you inside.

~

An hour later after a few performances and wards had been given out, it was time for you and Tom to present an award. You nervously chewed your bottom lip as you waited for your cue, going over your prepared speech in your head.

“You ready?” You whispered to Tom, sensing he was as nervous as you were.

“I’m never ready to read, especially not in front of thousands of people on live television.” He laughed nervously. You gave him an assuring smile as rubbed his back to calm him down.

“Hey, if you can’t make out a word, just squeeze my hand. I’ll help you out.” You told him. Tom smiled back and slipped his hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“We haven’t started yet.” You laughed at his action.

“I know.” He shrugged. “I just wanted to hold your hand.”

Before you could respond, a man with a headset came up to you and gave you a thumbs up.

“You’re on in three, two…”

“Hello everyone. We are here to present the nominees for best actor in a horror film.” Tom announced into his microphone. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to see any of these films because the ticket guy always thought I was a child.” He feigned a sad face, making the audience laugh. Their positive response calmed your nerves as you held your own microphone up.

“But don’t worry. I made sure I explained the plot to him once I got home.” You added.

“Only two of them made me wet the bed.” Tom read off the prompter, one of the lines he and you hadn’t written yourself. He made a face that you couldn’t help but laugh at, calming you even further.

“I can’t believe you read that line.” You laughed into your mic.

“I know. Who wrote that?” He wondered and the audience laughed along.

“Tonight, Tom and I are nominated for Best Onscreen Couple.” You continued. “Our chemistry on screen has left a lot of people wondering if we’re a dating in real life. We’re not, by the way.”

Tom was quiet for a moment as he blinked in confusion, hesitantly raising his microphone to his lips.

“We’re not?” He asked you as if this was the first he was hearing of it. It wasn’t, of course, as you had rehearsed this many times. Your face fell just like your practiced as the crowd laughed.

“No, we’re not.” You answered him flatly.

“I just - I thought we were.” His eyes darted around as he played dumb.

“Tom. We talked about this.” You said out of the corner of your mouth.

“But…but we make out all the time.” He said and the audience erupted with laughter. “Like what about that time in your trailer?”

“That was strictly platonic.” You shrugged.

“And in the elevator?” He asked.

“You had something stuck in your teeth. I was just being a good friend and getting it out.” You smiled smugly as you looked out at the crowd.

“All those times in my car?” He emphasized, making even you laugh.

“I was method acting.” You said simply.

“But - but it was months after production wrapped.” He reminded you, earning some applause as the audience caught on to what you were doing.

“I like to get really deep.” You insisted.

“Oh.” Tom looked at the floor for a moment before snapping into a smile. “And here are tonight’s nominees.”

You paused and let the audience laugh at your bit before reading the nominees off the prompter. Tom put his hand on your back, making you look at him. You smiled widely at your successful joke and he smiled back before taking your hand and giving it a squeeze.

~

You were sitting in your seats once again, impatiently waiting for the first category you were nominated for to be announced.

“I’m kinda nervous.” Tom leaned over to whisper in your ear among the buzz of the crowd.

“Would bra candy make it better?” You chuckled as you pulled a small Swedish Fish out of your décolletage.

“Has this been on your bare body?” He laughed in disbelief as he took the candy.

“Maybe?” You said sheepishly, looking around for anyone who might overhear.

“I can’t stand you.” His whole body shook with laughter as he popped it in his mouth. “It tastes like how your perfume smells.”

“Really?” You grimaced. “I don’t know how I feel about it.”

“Me either.” He sucked it out of his teeth. “Can I have another piece?”

You shoved his playfully for the bad joke before fishing another out for him.

“Here.” You placed it in the palm of his hands. “Wait, shhh! They’re announcing the winners.”

“This is really chewy.” Tom commented ad he struggled the swallow the candy. You ignored his problem as you excitedly gripped his arm. He continued chewing but managed to slip his hand into yours and clutch it anxiously as the nominees were read.

“And the winners for best onscreen kiss are…Tom Holland and Y/n L/n in Spiderman: Far From Home.”

The audience erupted into applause for the two of you, but all you could hear was Toms incessant chewing.

“Stop chewing. We gotta go.” You giggled as you pulled him out of his seat.

“Mhhhfh hmhph.” He said through a mouthful as he pulled you into a celebratory hug. You held hands on the way up to the podium as the infamous kiss played on the enormous screen. You hugged the presenter before standing in front of the microphone and beaming at the crowd.

“Hi! Thank you so you much for this award. Its always such a huge - - woah.” You trailed off and looked at Tom up and down, gulping loudly into the microphone.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you.

“There’s a lot of sexual tension up here.” You blew out a breath and fanned yourself. “Whew.”

The audience laughed at your bit but you were determined not to break.

“I was about to say.” Tom tweaked his head and rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at you. You both fidgeting with your clothing in an attempt to look busy as you avoiding eye contact.

“Um.” You laughed awkwardly into the microphone and gripped the podium. “What was I talking about?”

“I believe your last word was ‘huge’.” He said weakly, finally making eye contact with you. A chuckle went through the crowd as more caught on to the joke. You held each other’s gaze for a moment before quickly looking away.

“Right.” You nodded. “This is such a huge…a huge… sorry, what’s this award for?” You pretended to wipe sweat of your forehead as you turned around to read the screen.

“I believe it was Best Kiss.” Tom said before taking a deep, dramatic breath. You stared at each other for a long time, the only sound in the room now being your swallow breaths.

“Are we - - are we about to kiss?” You asked through a forced laugh before making your face completely serious. Tom raised his eyebrows before nodding and beginning to lean it. You leaned in to and right before your lips could touch, your heads snapped towards the crowd.

“Thank you so much!” You held up the award with a huge smile. “We love you guys! Thank you!”

This got a much bigger reaction than the last time as people cheered and laughed at your performance.

“That went well.” You gripped Toms sleeve in excitement as you walked back to your seats. “We got a lot of laughs.”

“I got a lot of laughs. You were a little flat.” He teased, pretending to flip hair behind his shoulder as you sat down.

“Mmm. Love you too.” You cupped his chin and narrowed your eyes at him. The actors and singers around you congratulated you on your first win on the night, all saying you got them with the fake out kiss.

The evening continued with an elated cloud over your seating area as you and Tom soaked up the win.

“Is it just me, or are the cameras hovering around us?” He said suddenly, calling your attention to the many cameras pointed in your direction. You waved at one and the camera man waved back.

“Trying to catch a stolen kiss I presume.” You shrugged as you gripped the award.

“Like we’d ruin the surprise.” He scoffed and put his arm around your shoulders. The second award you were nominated for together was next and your leg was already bouncing.

“I’m gonna be more disappointed in not doing our acceptance speech than I’d be in losing if we don’t get this award.” Tom said, practically reading your mind.

“I know.” You squeezed his knee anxiously. “Fingers crossed.”

“Good luck, darling.” He pulled you in closer and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“I don’t need luck when I have the best screen partner in the world.” You raised your eyebrows at him as you leaned into his body. You stayed in that position as Vanessa Hudgens read the nominees.

“And tonight’s winners for Best Onscreen Couple…Tom Holland and Y/n L/n!” She announced with a smile.

“See?” You smirked at Tom as you stood up.

“Guess I should tell you you’re welcome.” He teased as he scooped you into a tight embrace. He gathered the train of your dress in hand and helped you out of the aisle.

“I’m shaking.” You whispered to him as you made your way to the steps of the stage. “I’m gonna fall.”

“I got you, darling. I won’t let you fall.” He said as he took your hand with his free one and helped you up the stairs. You hugged Vanessa tightly once you got to the podium, whispering in her ear about being a fan.

“Thank you so much for this award.” Tom began your rehearsed acceptance speech. “I’ve always wanted to win best couple.”

“Onscreen couple.” You leaned towards the microphone to correct him. He looked at you in confusion but kept a smile on his face.

“What?”

“We won for best onscreen couple.” You pointed behind you. “Not best couple.”

“Oh.” He nodded like he understood. “So what did we win Best Couple for?”

“We didn’t, since we’re not a couple.” You said slowly, bringing back your joke from earlier in the evening. The audience chuckled as Tom made a show of reading the award and the screen behind him.

“Are you sure?” He asked suddenly, as if he didn’t believe you.

“Oh My God.” You groaned as you rubbed your eyes.

“Cause I feel like we are.” He gestured between the two of you. You shrugged a little and scooted closer to him while batting your lashes.

“I mean…do you wanna be?” You feigned shyness as you tucked some hair behind your ear.

“I don’t know.” He fumbled with the buttons on his suit jacket. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged and looked away. “What do you want to do?”

“I could get my mom to text your mom and they could set something up.” He suggested as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Okay.” You smiled and picked up the award. “Maybe later we could like, you know.”

You shrugged and he laughed shyly.

“Uh Huh.” He nodded eagerly. “Or we could do like whatever.”

“Yeah.” You let out a shaky breath. “Whatever.”

The two of you smiled in appreciation at the crowd before walking off, award tucked in the crook of your elbow and hands intertwined.

~

“This is the one I’m most excited for.” Tom told you as you waiting for Best Actress to be announced. Tom was the one presenting it, which only made your anxiety spike.

“But it’s just me.” You laughed as you looked at him.

“I know.” He shrugged bashfully. “You don’t need me to win. You’re the real reason people voted for us.”

“You’re just saying that.” You shook your head and put your hand on his bicep.

“Cause it’s true.” He insisted. “You got this.”

“Thanks for voting for me.” You answered sincerely, dragging your fingertips along his cheek.

“How could I not?” He tilted his head before getting tapped by one of the stage assistants. “I gotta go. Good luck.”

He brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles before following the assistant backstage.

You ran your hands over the arm rest, wishing Tom was still beside you to calm your nerves. You only had to wait about twenty minutes before Tom walked on stage with the envelope in hand.

“Nice to see you all again.” Tom greeted. “I know it’s strange to see me without my partner in crime, but she’s busy running through her acceptance speech in her head. Have I pissed off all the other Best Actress nominees? I bet I have.” He joked, earning a few laughs.

“Here are tonight’s nominees for Best Actress.”

You clapped for very nominated actress, noticing the wink Tom sent you when your name was displayed on the screen. Finally, it was time to announce the winner.

“And the winner of Best Actress is…” Tom’s eyes flicked up from the card before looking down again. You shut your eyes tightly and it felt like there was no air in the entire room.

“Y/n L/n.”

Your eyes flew open when you heard Tom call your name. You looked at the stage first, seeing him clapping and whistling for you with a proud smile. The people around you congratulating you, patting your back and rubbing your shoulders as you walked towards the stage. Tom had tears in his eyes as he met you at the top of the stairs, helping you stay balanced in your way to the podium. Tom got there first and took the ward off the podium and held it out to you.

“Here you go, baby.” Tom handed you the award.

Before you could take another step, he took your face between his hands and kissed you firmly. He smiled softly at you once he pulled way as you touched your fingertips to your lips in surprise.

He stepped back and let you move towards the microphone, still feeling flustered from the kiss and the win. You looked at the crowd and felt your mind go blank and they roared with applause. You looked over your shoulder at Tom, who gave you an assuring smile and mouthed “go on.” You blew out a breath and turned back to the audience, having a better grasp on what you wanted to say now.

“I can assure you, I was expecting that as much as you were.” You let out a breathy laugh and the audience laughed too.

“Thank you so much for this. This award means a lot to me.” You held up the award to punctuate your sentence. “I went into this movie thinking it would be a great opportunity to do something different than what I’m used to. I certainly didn’t go into this movie thinking I’d meet the love of my life.” You paused and smiled as a hush fell over the crowd. “Tom and I fell in love over scripts and cups of coffee at midnight, so much in love that I’m not sure I deserve this award because I wasn’t acting. Every soft touch and stolen glance, that was just me being in love with my scene partner.”

You stopped and let the audience clap for your statement, looking over your shoulder at Tom before continuing.

“I guess the secrets out now.” You laughed as you shook your head. “We had a running bet on who would accidentally reveal it first. So in addition to the three awards I won tonight, I will be getting twenty dollars.”

You heard Tom chuckling from behind you and felt compelled to finish up so you could hug him.

“All jokes aside, the number one person I want to thank tonight is Tom. I couldn’t have done this without you. And I’d never want to. I hope I spend the rest of my career sneaking Swedish Fish into award shows with you. Thank you.” You held up the award one last time before turning to Tom. He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you off the ground, spinning you around as he pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek.

“Sorry about that. I couldn’t help myself. I was too proud of you.” He smiled as he set you down. You began to walk backstage together, hand in hand.

“It’s all right.” You assured him. “I always appreciate a romantic gesture.”

Tom stayed quiet as you made your way back to your seats, a strange look troubling his handsome features.

“What is it?” You asked as you sat down again. Tom pursed his lips as a shy smile lit up his face.

“That was the first time you said you loved me.” He said timidly as he scratched behind his ear. Your mouth opened and shut as you found yourself at a loss for words. In the excitement of the moment, you hadn’t even realized you admitted your real feelings for him. You’d only been dating two months and while you loved him whole heartedly, you had never had the guts to tell him. Tom looked at you expectingly as he awaited your answer. Knowing there was no going back, you shrugged it off.

“Well I do.” You said finally, making his smile grow. “Is that all right?”

“Is that all right?” He laughed and took your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “Yeah. That’s all right.”

“Good. Because I do love you.” You leaned into him and rubbed your nose against his. He scrunched his nose as you made contact, still holding tightly to your hand.

“I love you too.” He said for the first time, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. “Congratulations, darling.”

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[pregnant-piggy]

I’ll take care of you

Draco Malfoy x reader

Request:  hey! can you write a draco x reader where they are in a new relationship and the readers parents are abusive but they don’t beat her bc they are all about the image but for torture they barely feed her when she is at their house on holidays so when draco sees her again after the holidays he notice that she is extremely thin and he is really worried and you continue thank you!! (anon)

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: talking of abuse (nothing really explicit, but it’s talked of)

A/N: I didn’t want to write this too explicitly, because it’s a heavy subject. I am sorry it took so long. I hope you like it :)

- - - - - - 

The Hogwarts express blew steam into the hot air as platform 9¾ was crowded with people. Families said their last goodbyes to each other, parents kissing their children and already longing for Christmas when most of their children would come back or sighing happily as they now finally had some peace. There were first years nervously standing beside their trunks, staring at the ink red train. Birds squeaked in their cages and cats that had escaped ran between the people.

You sat in an empty compartment, staring at the scene on the other side of the window. Your parents had dropped you off earlier, before the crowd. Their goodbyes had been quick and cold, like always.

Resting your head against the back of the seat, you closed your eyes. A deep breath calmed the nerves. You had been going to this school for five years and yet you were scared. Your sixth year was standing ahead of you, a year full of exams, new teachers and more stress. But you were looking forward to it.

A whistle was blown and the final students hopped on the train. A few hung out of the window, waving goodbye to the people on the platform until they disappeared from view. The decor of the station soon changed for the scenery of the green fields. Lands of grass and wildflowers passed by in a blur as the train made speed.

For the first time since you had gotten home after last year, you relaxed. Your compartment was empty, but you didn't mind. You embraced the silence and stared out of the window to the green haze.

The voice of the person you hadn't seen in so many weeks and whom you had missed dearly, broke your thoughts.

‘I thought you weren't even on the train,’ Draco said and he sat down next to you, but not before kissing you softly on your lips. You rested your head on his shoulder and breathed in his calming scent.

You and Draco had gotten together in the last month before the summer. The Slytherin boy you had had a crush on for months back then, had answered to your feelings by asking you out on a date.

- -- -

Three Gryffindor students were talking loudly in the library as you tried to concentrate on the work in front of you. Herbiology had never been your strongest subject and you needed to get a good grade on this test or who knows what would happen.

Just as you were reading about the healing powers of the pink and purple plants you had been studying this semester, someone else entered the library. You didn't need to look longer than a second to see who it was; you could recognise Draco from miles away.

He loitered at the bookcase and you quickly turned back to your book, before he would realise you were staring at him. But now you had seen him, you could not not think about him. His light hair and light grey eyes flew around in front of your eyes and your Herbiology was left for what it was.

You had been crushing on the Slytherin for a while now and you weren't even sure how you got to it. It was one day, when he bumped into you in the Potions cabinet and he apologised, that you had felt the butterflies as he touched your shoulder when saying sorry. And ever since then you had found yourself drawn to him whenever he was in the room. Funny how such a little touch could turn your life upside down.

Madam Pince had shooed the Gryffindors away and the library was filled with such a silence that you could hear your own thoughts loud and clear, as if they were being spoken out loud. Draco stood at the bookcase closest to you and it took all your strength not to look at him.

You stared at the words of the book that lied in front of you. They didn't make any sense. You dropped your head sighing in your hands and stared with empty eyes ahead of you.

‘What are you working on?’ Draco asked and you scared up.

The blood rushed to your cheeks and you scrambled up. You looked Draco and then back at your book before you answered. ‘Well, right now nothing.’

‘So I can sit next to you?’

‘Uhm, sure.’

Draco dropped his bag on the table and took the chair next to you. He didn't pull out any books but instead turned to you. His knees were pressed lightly against your thigh and you balled your fist on the side of your body, out of his sight.

‘Shouldn't you be doing something?’ you asked, afraid he would leave if you didn't say anything.

Draco laughed loud, receiving an angry glare from madam Pince. He shook his head with a smile on his face and got closer to you, resting his arm on the back of your chair.

‘I wanted to talk to you,’ he said with a low voice.

‘Why?’ you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Draco laughed softly again. ‘Because I want to get to know you. I fancy you, you see?’

You stared at him for a second and your jaw dropped. He liked you? You tilted your head to the side and watched Draco. He still had a smile on his face but you could see through his confident exterior that he was anxiously waiting for a reply from you.

‘I fancy you too, Draco,’ you said and gave him a smile.

He seemed encouraged by your confession and moved even more closer.

‘Enough to ditch Herbiology and spend time with me?’

‘That you even have to ask,’ you grinned.

- -- -

You didn't look very good, Draco noticed. Something had changed over the summer and when he took your hand and felt that your fingers took less space in his hands, he realised you had gotten thinner. Not just a little, healthy thinner, but more of a haven't-eaten-in-a-while-thin.

Your head rested on his shoulder and he could hear your steady breaths. He had missed that sound, just as he had missed everything about you. Even though you and him had only been dating for a month before the summer came, he had grown to you so much over that time. And in the summer he had not seen you at all and even barely spoken to you. Your letters were few and short.

Draco had been filled with doubts over the summer; did you still like him? Or had you realised that maybe you didn't like Draco after all?

But now you were resting against him, your hand tightly in his he realised that his doubts had been unjust. You liked him just as much as he liked you. Or maybe even love.

‘Darling?’ Draco asked and you lifted your head from his shoulder to look at him. ‘How was your summer. Your letters weren't exactly detailed.’

You sighed softly and averted your eyes from Draco's face. Your fingers played with the bottom of your shirt and you didn't look up as you talked. ‘It was fine,’ you muttered.

‘Okay,’ Draco slowly said, taking your hand in his. ‘You know you can tell me anything, right?’

You looked up to Draco and he saw tears pooling in your eyes. Without hesitating he pulled you close to his chest and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You sobbed softly into the crook of Draco's neck as he rubbed your back.

‘It's alright, darling. I'm here,’ he whispered into your ear and you tightened your grip on him.

For minutes the compartment was only filled with the sound of your sobs and Draco's reassuring words. He wanted to know why you were crying, but he knew he should give you your time. He was there for you, now and for as long as you'd have him.

‘You want to tell me?’ he whispered as you pulled away.

Your face was close to his and he watched the tears in your eyelashes. Your eyes were red and your nose was running, but Draco thought you were more beautiful than ever as you trusted him to be vulnerable in front of him. He cupped your cheek with his hand and kissed you on your nose, making you giggle lightly.

With the back of your hand you wiped away the tears of your face before you spoke with a quivering voice. ‘It's my parents. They- When they get mad at me- The whole summer-’

You stopped talking and sighed defeated, looking at your hands. Draco took your hand gave it a reassuring squeeze. ‘Take your time.’

You took a deep breath and looked back at Draco. ‘They don't let me eat. They say they can't physically hurt me, but they don't give me dinner or breakfast. They say they're disappointed in me and that I bring a shame to the family...’

Your voice got softer again and you looked insecure at Draco. He felt the hate for your parents razing through his veins. He wanted to do something to them. But now his priority was you, as you were crumbling apart in Draco's hands. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you leaned into his chest.

‘It's alright, love. I am glad you told me. I will take care of you, darling. We'll find a solution. We will stay at Hogwarts for Christmas and I am sure my parents won't mind if you come to stay with us next summer. Don't worry, I’ll help you through this,’ Draco said, his own voice trembling with emotion. ‘You’re safe with me.’

‘Thank you Draco,’ you said in his chest and moved your head to place a kiss on his jaw.

‘I would do anything for you, darling.’

- - - - - - -

taglist

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MASTERLIST

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Notting Hill Snippet #9

To Kara's equal relief and horror, the news of her tryst with Lena is short-lived and without consequence. She doesn't lose her next role, the studios still take Alex's calls, and aside from a few snide but easily dodged interview questions over the next few weeks, the world keeps turning as though nothing has happened.

As though she didn't say the most hurtful things she could and then run away.

And run she does. Back to America, back to LA. She goes as far as she can get from Lena, but when she dives into her former life of parties and industry soirees, the lack of Lena only makes her absence more keenly felt.

So Kara stops going to parties, stops having dinner with false friends and empty contacts. All she allows herself to do is work. She finishes one film, then another. She throws herself into each project in the hopes it will be enough to distract her from the memory of Lena's stricken features before Kara walked out her door.

It never is.

Alex notices. She notices Kara's distraction and her fervor in equal measure. For the first time in over a decade, Alex takes a pause. She stops and sits next to where Kara is studying lines in her too-big LA mansion.

Taking the script from Kara's hands, Alex looks at her in concern. "Hey."

"What?"

"What's going on?" Alex asks.

Kara glares at her. "You grabbed the script from my hands, that's what's going on!"

"Kara."

"What?!"

"Talk to me," Alex urges softly. "We talk. Right?"

Uncurling from her place on the couch, Kara marches to the bar cart, pouring herself a drink.

"I guess not lately, we haven't," Alex answers her own question. She looks at Kara with an open gaze. "You're still my sister though."

"Am I? Or am I just the reason you get paid?"

"Don't attack me, okay? I only took this job to help you, you know that. To protect you. Mom never did, so I have. Always. Remember?"

Kara closes her eyes. They used to be sisters. But not for a long time. Now, Kara doesn't know what they are.

She doesn't even know who she is.

"You haven't been the same since London," Alex observes, not noticing or not caring about Kara's spiralling crisis of self. "Who was she?"

Kara shakes her head, not turning around. "Just a friend."

"Don't give me the same runaround you gave the late night hosts, Kara. Okay? Don't bullshit me."

This time, Kara finally turns to look at her sister. Alex stands at a safe distance with her arms crossed over her chest. Her stance is stern but her eyes are soft.

"Who was she?"

"I--" Kara's voice cracks as her resolve crumbles. The tears come hot and fast, pouring down her cheeks before she can stop them. Her breath hiccups in her chest, and she gasps. "I think I loved her!"

For the first time in years, her sister holds her as she cries.

---

"You got the offer," Alex tells her, months later. There's a warmth in her voice now, a gentleness that had once been eclipsed by professionalism. Kara is glad for it-- they've long proven to themselves and others that they're good at their jobs. Now they're sisters again as well.

Kara smiles. "Where are we off to then?"

"London."

The world trips around Kara, slowing and then jolting back up to speed. "What? For how long?"

"Two months." Alex eyes her carefully. "Are you okay with that?"

"I'm not going to see her."

In repairing their relationship, Kara has shared details of her time with Lena, and more than once Alex has suggested she reach out. She almost has, nearly a dozen times, but she hasn't yet managed to pick up the phone.

Now, it feels far too late.

"Didn't think you would," comes the blithe response. It's the kind of irreverence that's come with their healing friendship, and helps ground Kara in reality. It's almost the same way she felt with Lena, in a way. Almost.

"Still," Alex continues, "you know where she is."

Yes, she does. And Kara plans to stay very, very far away.

previous / next

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 289: Looks Like the Gang’s All Here

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “you guys don’t really need to know what’s gonna happen to Deku and Shouto right now” and cut away to Toga and Ochako before anyone could get a word in. Skeptic utilized the power of Freak Shounen Coincidence to magically zero in on Ochako and Tsuyu amongst the fleeing crowd. Toga was all “IS THAT OCHAKO” and immediately leaped down to fight them, ignoring Spinner’s heartfelt speeches about Villain Found Family because fight now, hug later!! Down in the streets of some unidentified crumbling city, Ochako was approached by a sweet old lady and was all “I better help this sweet old lady who is definitely not leading me into a trap”, which unfortunately turned out to be poor decision-making on her part. Anyway so now she and Toga are going to throw down. AND ALSO, P.S., BEST JEANIST IS STILL ALIVE, and that doesn’t really have anything to do with anything right now, but BY GOLLY I JUST HAD TO SHOUT IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS.

Today on BnHA: Iida and Hadou are all “is it our turn yet”, and Horikoshi is all “yes”, and so the two of them finally burst onto the scene and are all “hello Shouto, Gigantomachia is on his way, btw do you need help” and so they all get ready to fight Tomura together. Meanwhile in Unnamed Ochako And Toga Fight Town, Toga is all “what’s up Ochako, oh is this the All Might doll Deku gave you, I guess you must like Deku as well, just like me, we truly are the same, btw I can use other people’s quirks now” before she vanishes in a flurry of knives and ambiguity, as mysteriously as she came. So that’s a thing that happened. The chapter ends with Gigantomachia and the League STOMPIN’ ONTO THE SCENE, JUST IN TIME FOR ENDEAVOR TO WAKE UP AND BE ALL “OHHHHH SHIT.” YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT, “OH SHIT.” Finally the pieces are in place for Dabi to reveal his true identity to Hadou and Iida, JUST LIKE WE ALL EXPECTED.

before I start, thank you so much to everyone who sent birthday messages on Wednesday!! I had a good day; my quarantine impulse purchase guitar that I ordered months ago but had been backordered finally arrived, and so now I can do something productive with my time as I continue to while away these months in isolation! not to say that capslocking over fictional characters and their shounen escapades doesn’t also count as being productive lmao. anyways, my fingers hurt so typing is kind of a bitch right now, but I’m having fun still. IF KAMINARI CAN DO IT THEN SO CAN I

anyway so let’s see what mishaps my various catastrophe-prone children are getting up to this week

okay there are several things happening in this panel which I want to comment on

IIDA!!!

HADOU!!!

“some time after” jesus fucking christ though, how long have Deku and the rest actually been fighting?? like it’s absolutely absurd to imagine that they’ve been managing to hold off Tomura for more than a few minutes, and yet everything we’ve seen these last couple of chapters suggests that this is indeed the case. which is just pure insanity tbh. excuse me sir, but I have an emotionally maturing son, a homewrecking grandpa, and a sleep-deprived one-legged platonic husband who are all in DIRE NEED of medical attention just FYI

lastly, I direct your attention to these two cool cats in the background who are both riding on hover surfboards. living it up like it’s Back to the Future. why are there two of them. do they both just happen to have the exact same quirk. what are the odds. ARE THEY TWINS. I want to know everything about them dammit

anyway so Hadou is asking Iida why he’s tagging along, because unlike the others, he can’t fly and is thus vulnerable to Tomura’s attacks and such

well Hadou I’ll have you know that it his DUTY AS THE CLASS PRESIDENT to tag along and THAT’S WHY

oh shit you guys IIDA SAID “FUCK THE LAW”

“plus Bakugou-kun, whom I am not particularly close to, but nonetheless hold nothing personal against!” well uh, kind of a weird distinction to make there bro, but okay. listen everyone, it’s a tense situation; if Iida feels the need to clarify the ins and outs of his interpersonal relationships with each of the people he’s rescuing then please just respect that okay

anyways though have I mentioned how much I fucking love Iida Tenya though you guys. feels like I haven’t mentioned that enough. I LOVE HIM. there

FINALLY

AFTER THREE WHOLE WEEKS WE FINALLY CUT BACK. OH MY GOD. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG OF A TIME THAT IS TO BE HOLDING YOUR BREATH. [EXHALES]

is it bad that my immediate reaction to this page was A LOT OF LAUGHING, though. fkldlksh this entire situation is SO ABJECTLY TERRIBLE that if I were Shouto I would almost be fighting the urge to look around for a hidden camera at this point. ASHTON KUTCHER WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING HERE. OH THANK GOD, IT WAS ALL JUST A PRANK

anyway so uh. heh. how screwed are we at this point, exactly. oh and also, whose speech bubbles are these. who the fuck would look at this situation and these bleeding children and say “HA!” what kind of monster. just ignore that paragraph right before this one please

OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT

TOMURA I CANNOT BELIEVE I’M SAYING THIS, BUT PLEASE LISTEN TO AFO FOR ONCE AND JUST LEAVE

pretty please. we kind of have a situation here. not that I wouldn’t love to see what this icy flamey boi could do if push came to shove, but I also have had just about enough of watching children get maimed for today though

OH SHIT

THE TIMING OF THIS MAKES ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE AT ALL BUT I DO NOT CARE!! THE CAVALRY HAS ARRIVED THANK GOD

“WHAT UP GUYS, WE BROUGHT YOU SOME TERRIBLE NEWS” FKLSHLKHLK

WELL GEE IIDA THANKS SO FUCKING MUCH!!

lmaoooo a wild Lida has been spotted what the fuck is this translation though

I don’t know which is better, the “Lida” (DO YOU EVEN READ THE SERIES BRO), or the “CHRIST” gkfhkg. CLASSIC LIDA

OH SNAP HADOU

sobbing at Manual cradling the still-warm corpse of Gran Torino like a tiny baby khlk;h. BUT ANYWAYS HADOU SAW HER TEACHER ALL BLOODIED UP AND IS READY TO THROW DOWN, YESSSSS, THE MY LADIES ACADEMIA ARC CONTINUES

(ETA: listen you guys, there were many things at the end of this chapter that brought me joy, but perhaps none more than the inclusion of Hadou in the final two page spread looking all serious alongside the Todorokis, as if she has any fucking clue at all wtf is going on slfkhlkhgghsl. what I wouldn’t give to see her and Deku and Iida all making frantic bewildered eye contact at each other throughout the next chapter lmao.)

GOD FUCKING DAMMIT DEKU

ARE YOU PROPPING YOURSELF UP WITH YOUR ARM THAT’S IN SPLINTERS, I CAN’T EVEN BELIEVE YOU RIGHT NOW. SOMEONE PLEASE SLAP SOME SENSE INTO THIS CHILD. SIT YOUR ASS DOWN

LMAO TODO’S READY TO TAKE AFOMURA ON. THE SHARED HERO BRAINCELL HAS ALREADY EXPIRED. FUCK IT LET’S DO THIS

“true, I already watched him murder my dad, my boyfriend, my other boyfriend, my teacher, and dozens of other people, but gosh darn it, I just feel like the fifteenth time’s the charm you guys.” shit, I ain’t even mad. who’s up for yet another episode of Todoroki Shouto Attempts to Murder a Bitch

-- “TIME TO CUT AWAY!!” laughs Horikoshi as he gleefully dodges out of reach before I can punch him, that SON OF A --

goddammit. you’re just lucky that I’m invested in the girl power fight too

YESSSSS OCHAKO

DON’T BE SORRY FOR KICKING ASS! NEVER BE SORRY FOR KICKING ASS

damn, looks like she managed to touch Toga’s shirt but not Toga herself. both of them are so fast

now Toga is monologuing from the shadows

we’ve all been there, Toga. sometimes you see someone you really like and it’s just like, ahhhhhh gotta kill them am I right

lol I love Toga so much you guys, but I’m also kind of wincing in anticipation of whatever essays are gonna materialize out of the fandom this week explaining how hero society has failed her utterly and she is just a victim here. CAN YOU NOT SEE HOW SHE JUST WANTED FREEDOM TO BE HERSELF AND MURDER A BUNCH OF PEOPLE flhkklhl

OH SNAP SHE WENT AND TOLD HER THE THING!!

and it was fucking awesome and scary as shit, Ochako. like damn, still sends a chill up my spine just thinking about it

anyway so now Toga is continuing to explain that she can use the quirks of whoever she transforms into

and Ochako is kind of freaking out, which I don’t blame her for, since it’s probably really upsetting to hear that your stolen blood and quirk were used to murder a bunch of people. shit

so now she’s all “WTF WHY WOULD YOU EVEN TELL ME THAT”

??? was this somehow the wrong answer?

for fuck’s sake. Toga you literally came down here to ask her if she would be willing to kill you, and here she is telling you “I would never be happy about killing someone, that’s fucked up”, and you’re all “......”

like come on though, what else do you want her to say?? and why does Ochako look so shocked now

OOP

LMAO

THEIR FACES DKSLHFKG. TOGA NO THAT IS MEAN. and jesus christ Ochako it’s just a toy. I know it has Sentimental Value and shit but is this really the thing to be getting distracted about right now

FOR FUCK’S SAKE

JIN-KUN WHOM OCHAKO HAS NEVER FUCKING MET?? THAT JIN-KUN??!

OM NOM NOM

this entire confrontation makes absolutely zero sense to me you guys. just. Horikoshi was all, “this is the kind of stuff girls talk about when they’re battling to the death, right?” just, are you okay my dude

anyway so Toga has somehow deduced that Ochako got the doll from Deku, which means that she and Ochako are exactly alike in every way, and this is somehow an important plot point, and now they’re finally getting back to the fight lulz

OH SHIT

OCHAKO BOUT TO SLAP THE SHIT OUT TOGA WITH THIS BOOKCASE ON A STRING AND THIS LOUIS BAG OH FUCK

so now Toga’s all excited and she’s all “THERE’S SOMETHING I OUGHT TO TELL YOU, I’M NOT LEFT HANDED EITHER” oh snap

fuck, it almost feels like she’s trying to warn her. Ochako idk maybe you should run shit I do not like this ( ﾟдﾟ)

but of course she is not running, and she’s all “I’ll have you take responsibility for your actions”

HEY NOW

WHAT IS FUCKING HAPPENING, DID TOGA JUST FUCKING MURDER TSUYU, WHAT THE FUCK. I AM TERRIFIED, I DON’T WANT TO SCROLL DOWN, SHE THREW LIKE FOURTEEN KNIVES INTO THE DARKNESS, WHAT THE FUCK

OH

IT’S POSSIBLE THAT I MAY HAVE OVERREACTED

so did Toga just Swip a bunch of knives for no reason and then abscond, lol what. CAN ANYBODY PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT THE PURPOSE OF THAT ENTIRE SCENE WAS. ASIDE FROM GETTING TO SEE OCHAKO TRY AND YEET A BOOKCASE AT SOMEONE

fuck, she was crying??

DID MY GIRL TOGA JUST KILL AN OLD WOMAN, NAKEDLY LURE OCHAKO INTO A BUILDING, ANTAGONIZE HER INTO SAYING “I’LL MAKE YOU TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR KILLING A BUNCH OF PEOPLE JUST BECAUSE YOU FELT LIKE IT”, STEAL HER DOLL, GIVE HER DOLL BACK, TELL HER “OH SO YOU LIKE DEKU TOO HUH? BTW I CAN USE OTHER PEOPLE’S QUIRKS”, AND THEN RUN AWAY CRYING??? BRUH

-- OH SHIT, OH FUCK

[SIRENS BLARING WILDLY] [AUDIENCE LEAPING OUT OF THEIR SEATS] [T-SHIRT CANNONS BOOMING IN THE AIR] [VIKING WAR HORN SOUNDS IN THE DISTANCE] FUUUUUUUUUCK

well never the fuck mind about Ochako and Toga and WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT ALL WAS SUPPOSED TO BE, I guess, BECAUSE!! MACHIA MADNESS HAS ARRIVED. SPEARS SHALL BE SHAKEN!!! SHIELDS SHALL BE SPLINTERED!!

AND LOOK WHO WOKE UP FROM HIS NUMBER ONE HERO BEAUTY NAP RIGHT ON CUE, TOO!!! ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS... IIIIIIIIIIT’S TOUYA TIMEEEEEEEE

[xxsmokeyy]

Levi x Reader (F) Tattoo

genre: smut, angst

summary: as he ends things, you desperately offer him your body, telling him to mark you even if it’s for the last time.

wc: 4,200

The darkness of the night takes over your flat, as you refuse to turn any source of light on, dead silence engulfing the space. It's comforting, the dim, solemn room. Lying alone on the bed you shared with your lover, you stare at the seeping light from the windows. If only you could switch the street lights off.

You don't know where it went wrong. This whole time, you settled with the assumption that everything was going well, that he looks at you the same way you do. But you have yet to learn.

It's like he's drifting away every passing day. Like he's growing distant every waking second. His change of behavior doesn't escape your scrutiny, even if his actions are as subtle as they can be. You notice how he scoots away from you on the sheets, and how he almost doesn't seem to need a share of the covers. How he disappears earlier than you can wake up, and how he only leaves you with a note saying he's off to work. It only tends to get worse everytime.

No, he's not seeing another person. After three years and a half together, you're quite confident you know him well. Quite. But eitherway, he isn't the type of man who'd cheat. He's a good guy, you know that for sure.

That's why you don't know how it came to this.

Were you not enough? Did you do something to throw him off? Is he sick of you? Has he lost his interest?

Thoughts and doubts flood your mind like crazy, leaving you wide awake with no room for rest. You check the time, and it's a few minutes past his expected return. He should be here any moment now.

Yet an hour passes by like years, and you feel your heart swell out of nothing good. As you check your phone religiously, you heave a sigh, toss, and turn. You just hope he's not drinking, though he's not the kind to drink until he's wasted. Heck, he's never even reached the point where he's tipsy. A smile creeps up your lips as you recall the times when you'd both drink, you ending up a mess and him always babysitting you, sweeping you up from your feet once you'd had enough and drive home, completely sober compared to you.

Before you know it, another hour passes by. Time feels like nothing. Void and numb. Maybe you should have taken your friends' night out invitation? You haven't caught up with them these past months. But you‘re aware you'll just space out and think of him when you're supposed to be having a good time.

Then, you feel your soul light up as you hear the front door open. Should you pretend you're asleep? Should you greet him and ask him if he's had dinner? Knowing him, he'll only scold you for staying up for too late.

You swiftly turn your back against the bedroom's door but don't bother to close your eyes. You sense him enter, and your heart flutters nervously. You wonder where he's been and what took him so long, just to eventually keep your questions to yourself.

His side of the bed sinks as he sits and loosens his tie, readying himself of some eyeshut. You wait for him to lie down, but he never does. Curiosity filling your brain, you ache to take a peek at what he's doing, but he's still steadily seated.

“You’re still up,” he says, perfectly aware. Your breath was queerly uneven, and you didn’t wrap yourself with the blankets the way you did. He knows.

Your breath hitches, freezing for a moment. Just how critical is he? Unsure whether to speak or not, undecided of what to say, you prop yourself up with your elbows and sit up, back leaning against the headboard. A long, defeated sigh leaves your lips.

It’s painfully silent. You take a glance at him and you’re greeted by his broad back. Both of you stay quiet, waiting for whoever initiates a conversation. It’s not awkward, nor is it uncomfortable. Just… despondent. Low.

“You can tell me,” you suddenly blurt out, voice but a whisper. You look at your hands and mindlessly fiddle with your fingers.

“Tell you what?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know already.

“I’m not dumb, you know,” you inform, shifting your gaze to the windowpanes. Curse those street posts, you prefer complete blackness, else he’d see how broken you are.

“Nothing’s up,” he says, and it ticks you off. Does he think you’re stupid or something? This has been going on for months, it’s impossible to try and not talk about it. “Just to remind you, I’m your partner,” you state with a firm voice. Let’s not beat around the bush here, Levi.

His muscles strain upon hearing your “reminder”. You probably caught him there. No one dares speak, letting a couple minutes fly by like nothing. You know he wants to say something, you can feel it, he’s tense. What’s stopping him?

You sigh for the uncountable time, giving up. “Let’s go get our rest, alright?” you place a warm hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widen as you hear him. He less than seldom said that phrase, and it fears you the most that he’s saying it now of all times. You wish you were stupid to not get what he means. This is exactly how a guy like him would end it, but you want to play dense and pry it out of him. Everything. Because a sorry won’t be enough to answer your questions.

“Is it me?” you ask dryly, back to fidgeting with your fingers, heart thumping so wildly it’s like it’s about to explode.

“No.”

“Someone else?” It’s not.

“No,” he says, voice calm as ever. Figures.

“Then what?” your brows furrow as you question him, impatience starting to ring in your tone. His back facing you, his short words, his disinclined attitude, they’re frustrating. If he wants to end this, he better elaborate and be his most rational self.

He stays silent. You couldn’t take it any longer and open your mouth to speak, but before you could say a word, he finally answers, “I’m not fit for this.”

You fall mute, letting his words sink in. You wanted to burst into laughter, but you can’t. The atmosphere is simply too heavy, it’s weighing you down. Not fit? For what?

“Give me an idea. I can’t keep guessing here, Levi,” your pitch breaks as you call his name, the tension strangling you to death. “You have to tell it to my face!” you beg desperately. You’re right, he should quit cowering behind his excuses. He’s going to end this, and explain why, because you deserve it of all people. So he turns around to face you, but immediately regrets it the moment he does.

You are, indeed, broken.

No, you didn’t have the tear stained face a lady has when she’s been suffering long. No, your hair wasn’t a mess like you didn’t bother fixing yourself. No, you didn’t get thinner from neglecting food. In fact, you looked too perfect. Too organized, like you poured the whole of your attention into your appearance. Like you wanted to pamper yourself so you wouldn’t descend into an unrecognizable mess. Like you needed to look fine to convince everyone you are.

But the excessive effort goes to waste, the culprit being your eyes. Your eyes gave it away. The exhaustion in them is so unbearably visible, sabotaging your forged front. That, and a hundred more emotions underneath.

He hates it. He doesn’t like the idea of you hurting, especially if it’s because of him. And the way you tried to conceal it? He has to end this, fast. He can’t stand making you suffer even more.

“Listen, I tried everything, but I’m just not one for relationships,” he explains, looking you straight in the eye even though it pains him to. “I can’t love,” he averts his gaze for a fleeting moment upon saying the word. It’s too cheesy for his liking, but he has to go on. “And I doubt you can stay with a man who can’t show the least intimacy,” he adds.

Frozen, your brows furrow in helplessness. It’s all happening too quick. He’s definitely breaking up with you. He probably thought of this long ago but just can’t bring himself to do it. Now that you pushed him, he’s decided.

“I’m sorry.” And with that, he turns away and stands up, grabbing his coat and keys to leave. You witness as your world starts to crumble.

That’s it? Because he can’t love? What about the kisses you exchanged? The times you made love? The way he stays and listens as you go on about your day and problems? The meals you prepared for each other? His scoldings whenever you don’t clean to his standards?

More than three years of memories flash before your eyes as he takes his steps toward the door. After all these years, that’s the conclusion he comes up with?

“No…” you mutter, staring at his disappearing figure powerlessly.

You get up on your foot and run to him, later tripping over yourself from your weak strength. He hears the thud and spins around to help you right away. You’re on the carpeted floor, kneeling as you look at the ground. You‘re unable to feel your tears start to well on the corners of your eyes.

Levi grabs your shoulders with both hands to assist you up. “Brat, let’s get you to bed,” he says. A chuckle slips from your mouth by hearing the little nickname he calls you by. It’s funny how you find it more romantic than the sweet endearments people use with their lovers. Hearing something you consider romantic when he just ended things, ironic.

He ignores your unhumorous giggle and tries to lift you but you refuse. “I must’ve not been enough,” you mumble feebly. He doesn’t like it. You’re obviously drained of energy from pretending to be fine for too long, and now that he spilled it, you’re left with nothing but to show how affected you are.

“It’s not that.”

“Then it’s someone else,” you argue as if fully convinced, though you know it isn’t. You’re looking for excuses, anything else other than his reason. Because this is so much worse.

Because from here on, you’re going to blame yourself, look for some flaw, rummage your system for something wrong, and question what you lack. If only you could pinpoint anything, you’d be content.

“I told you already,” he presses, wrapping your hands around his neck to then carry you in his arms. But you refuse. You find the position convenient, and instead lean into his face for an unexpected kiss.

The moment you feel his warm lips, your tears stream uncontrollably. Oh, how you love kissing him. This is gonna be the last, right? There’s no making him stay anymore. You know Levi. Once he’s decided, he’s unbreakable. If so, you just want to savor it, one last time.

He pulls away, shocked by your sudden action. Shit. “Stop it,” he orders in a curt manner, catching his breath. He doesn’t want to see you like this.

“Please…” you beg, going in for another, and another, and another. Your soft tongue enters his mouth, searching for intimacy. He’s kissing back. He could easily push you away and leave right at this very moment, but he chooses to kiss you back.

Is it out of pity? No it isn’t.

He pulls you closer and kisses you back, trying to respond with the same passion. The same emotion. If there’s anything he can do to feel the same way as you, he’d do it at the end of his tether.

You take away one hand to cup his cheek lovingly, rubbing with your thumb his velvet skin. He’s flawless. Everything you could’ve asked for. But he just has to slip past your fingers, past your reach.

A quiet sob escapes your lips as you lean back for breath, face buried into the crook of his neck. He’s so damn warm, you don’t want to lose him. Though you know you have to let him go, you’re not selfish.

“All this time, you stayed with me knowing you don’t love me?” you ask, voice muffled as you speak into his skin. He doesn’t answer, and you hear another sorry. Aren’t you humble today.

You nod continuously before raising your head to look at his soothing, grey eyes. They’re the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen your whole life. “Please… just let me feel you.” You close the distance and kiss him, passion burning in your movements. You love the man so much, it might be a sin in another reality. Sure, you’ll leave him alone and let him be as he wants, but right now, you just want to feel him, deep inside your body. Just one last time.

“Please, Levi. Take me,” you breathe out in between the lip locking, a lone tear sliding down your cheeks. He doesn’t know how to respond, but he follows your request by picking you up and settling you back on the mattress.

Is this okay? Is this taking advantage of her?

It may be crazy, but you could hear his thoughts out loud through his eyes while he climbs on the sheets and sits in front of you. You gently shake your head to convince him that it’s alright, reaching out both hands to taste his lips once more. Levi answers back like nothing’s wrong, like you’re still together. He wants to find something. Anything.

Your hands crawl to his dark strands, running your fingers through them gently. You remember combing his hair with your hands randomly as an intimate gesture, and he doesn’t complain everytime. He’s certainly grown fond of you, but probably not in that way.

You help him unbutton his shirt and he helps you lift your silk top, exposing both your naked chests. He observes you for a second, the dim light casting abstract shadows on the dips and structures of your face. “Take me…” you whisper and he grunts in response as you both fall into the bed, him positioned on top of you. Deep down, you feel your heart sting in a mixture of pain and pleasure as he grazes his lips on your skin, inducing goosebumps on your whole body. You throw your head back to give him moving space and let him explore every inch of you.

He lets his mouth travel onto the peaks of your breasts, lips still wet from the exchange of kisses. The warm sensation forces a mewl out of you, and he continues. This is the last request you ask of him, and he’ll listen to your whims. It’s only one detail different from when you did it before.

He alternates from the two mounds once more, giving it a few shallow pecks before going down to remove your bottom. You’re now lying naked as he watches you for a brief moment.

You’re beautiful. You had what every man can wish for; a perfect body, a considerate nature, and a beautiful face. Of course you have more than just that, he never underestimated you. The problem really is with him and his apathetic psyche, and he can’t stay with someone as pure as you. You might be a mess right now, but you’re a tough one, you can stand by your own, even if he’s not there anymore.

"Hey, are you sure about this?" Levi asks as he hovers just above you. His voice is soothing like lulling you to sleep. You hum in agreement and sling your hands around his nape, kissing him yet again. Though still a bit reluctant, you hear him finally remove his trousers. Before you know it, he enters your depth, and you could feel him become one with you. It's another wonderful mix of pleasure and pain.

As your tongue spar with his, he then begins to buck his hips into you leisurely, earning him a couple stifled moans. His pace is slow and sensual, only adding up to the growing illusion that you were inlove.

Your eyes are closed shut, trying to prevent the tears from materializing so he won't see. You feel his length rub against your walls along with the stimulation of him kissing your neck. "Mark me," you beg quietly. He starts suckling on your bare skin just like you wanted, leaving a lone, but red lovebite.

Yes, you'd cherish that until it eventually disappears, because it's the last lingering memory of him you'll have on your body. Is it ridiculous to love someone this much within three years or so? Maybe it is. Maybe you are ridiculous. But can they blame you? You just loved.

As Levi thrusts further into you, the stray fringes of his undercut swaying back and forth along with your breaths running, he gives himself a chance to try and look for something he should feel with a lover. His lips slam into yours endlessly as he rummages.

The harmonious sounds of skin slapping against one another, catching of breath, and restricted grunts and moans cover the entire room, and for once, you feel less alone. The fact that he took on your pleas make you happy. He probably still feels something as well, just not enough. Not enough to stop him from leaving.

You run a hand along his muscular back, nails digging lightly as you feel him hit your good spot. He pulls away, a trail of saliva connecting your lips with his.

“Levi," you whimper. As you look at him with dazy, wanton eyes, he sees how you want more of him. He obliges by touching you everywhere, your love handles, your hair, your cheeks. You grab his jaw so that you're now holding each other's face and give him a small, weak smile. Is it pity that you feel, Levi?Your hand slides down his naked torso, index finger particularly stopping at his heart, vision darting on the same spot. Tell me, is there something there?

Though you know full well by yourself that even if it’s just pity that’s driving him to do this, you’d still gladly accept it.

To hell with dignity, you want to feel him tonight badly, even if this is nothing more than a plea of desperation.

A gasp leaves your mouth and you arch your back in fervor as he rams deeper, keeping his sensual pace at bay. He feels so good, everything feels so good, that you wouldn’t want it any other way. His eyes stay on yours, fierce gaze diving deep into the pools of your glowing orbs. It’s the kind of stare that’d make your knees tremble, and you still remember him using it on you when you first met.

He lets his hand roam around your body, fondling your breasts and tweaking your nipples, earning him a moan of pleasure. He lets his lips brush on your skin, sucking rashly on the red spot he made just a while ago to intensify it, making it last longer.

He knows just what you want, for him to embed his ownership into your body, burning into your skin. Emotions stir inside you like a tornado on the loose, you love him so much.

Levi grinds his hips down you firmly as he feels you nearing based from your shakier breathing and tighter walls. He uses his thumb to flick on your clitoris, and you transcend into a moaning mess upon feeling your orgasm building quickly in your guts.

You wish things would stay this way, wish for time to slow down, if possible, even stop. This is the last moment you could savor, because after this you know he’d leave the door right that instant, just like how easily he did it minutes ago. By that time, you can’t beg him anymore, nor can you make him stop. This is nothing but an inevitable goodbye.

He gently circles your most sensitive spot, as if you’re bound to break by any motion wilder. It’s almost totally contrary to how you both had sex before, the roughness not being there, the harsh movements, and the need to impose domination. You’re thankful he’s doing it nice and slow, just a little passionate, elongating the short time a tad more. Atleast he’s making an effort.

He was drunkening, starting from his ardent thrusts to the mere skin contact. You then feel your spasms closer, and you wrap your hands around his body for support, the brimming desire bottling inside you about to explode.

“Levi—!”

He continues moving to your will, and it takes you one last hump before an immense surge of pleasure rolls all throughout your body, to your limbs down into the tips of your fingers causing you to erupt and shake. Your trembling cavern wrap around him perfectly while you pulsate, heartbeat in exquisite sync. Momentarily, you forget the entirety. Your memories, his words, your current situation, him leaving you.

As you squirm underneath him, Levi stops to let you be and not make you feel overwhelmed from the aching sensitivity, waiting for your high to wear down before he pulls out. Earlier becoming one with one another, it’s only until then that you feel empty and lonely again.

You fall boneless, gasping for air, vision just a bit bleary. You fail to see him sit upright and buckle his belt to make off. It’s happening.

Levi glances at you to see if you’re out cold and senseless, but finds you covering your eyes with your forearm, hiding your threatening tears from his sight. You’re awake.

He mentally sighs. It’s no use. In the end, he felt nothing.

Once you’ve pulled back your tears before they can form, you uncover your face and give him a look so visibly painful no matter how much you conceal it. “You can stay with me. Even if it’s just as friends,” you mutter, voice almost inaudible, but he hears. He gently shakes his head as refusion. That’d be taking advantage of you, and he wouldn’t want to do that.

You look at Levi with worn and droopy eyes, feeling the most helpless. You couldn’t stop him. Your heart stutters vigorously from inside its rib cage as he leans forward and he kisses you. You’re dumbstruck upon feeling his pair of warm lips land flat onto your forehead. Laying back there, immobilized and unable, you couldn’t do a single thing as you watch him quickly slip away from your reach. He wears his clothes, grabs a couple of his important stuffs and finally leaves without looking back, not one time.

The sound of the door shutting echoes inside your lonesome suit, resonating repeatedly in your ears. A dry and excruciating chuckle leaves your throat as if to try and prevail over the looming desolation, bitterness seething inside your veins, crippling like venom.

How cruel. He’s that ready? And he didn’t even bother bringing with him all of his things, huh? Guess you’ll decide later on whether to throw them out or wait for him to get them.

You swear, you tried the best you could to keep it in. You were spent to the bones both mentally and emotionally, you thought you can’t weep any more.

But you cried yourself to sleep for only the heavens know how long, sobs so heavily restrained in such a way that you think he was just behind the door and might hear you. Your hiccups uncontrollable, bursting out in an explosive manner that brought you uttermost difficulty to pull air into your lungs. Months of trying to understand, same time trying to not break, your brain doesn’t understand if finally crying it all out is relieving or only becoming more unbearable.

Your resentment only fuels as you witness the morning sun start to pour into your room shortly before you drift into unconsciousness.

The next day was an even more awfully hard battle, the growing static in your heart devouring your body. Getting used to being without him, coping on your own, practicing your smile as you prepare yourself to work only to ditch it and ask for a sick leave. When you pass by a mirror, you see nothing but a wreckage. Your pain is clear as day it’s utterly impossible to forge a front or make believable excuses.

A wave of alien emotion hits you as you keenly eye the lovebite he left just above your clavicle. You touch it as if the tip of your fingers were magnetized into doing so, as if you can feel him through it. You want to think of yourself as a canvas, and the small mark as his artwork.

You look at yourself once more, gently pressing on the reddened skin. A tiny but self-assuring smile appears on your lips as you observe both the hickey and your physique. It’s surely going to take a while, but you’ll be okay.

Besides, even tattoos fade after time.

[bookwormsid1015]

BNHA: This Time Around

[A Semi-CloudNight Oneshot]

“Aaahhh! It feels so good to unwind like this,” Fukukado Emi, best known as the Laughing Hero: Ms. Joke, laughs in relief as she leans forward against the bar countertop, a mug of whiskey in hand. She’s dressed in her civilian outfit, which consists of high waist blue skinny jeans and a light yellow crop top tee shirt with a bold white stripe stretching across her chest. Her mint green hair is held back in a low ponytail, and black slip-on sneakers adorn her feet; her outfit accented by  a black choker around her neck and three beaded bracelets coating her right wrist. 

Joining her at their favorite bar is Tatsuma Ryuko (Ryukyu), Takeyama Yuu (Mt. Lady), and Kayama Nemuri (Midnight). Nemuri’s rosy red lips tilt upwards into a sly smile, and she raises her glass of red wine to her lips. Unlike Fukukado, Nemuri is dressed to impress, with her beautiful dark blue dress fading to a vibrant pink as it travels down towards the helm of her dress, perfectly matching her light complexion. Black three inch heels adorn her feet, and her deep indigo hair is held over her head in a messy bun, staked into place by a black pin that distinctly resembles a fox tail. 

Nemuri pushes up her crimson red glasses, still smiling. “Me too,” she agrees happily. “My agency has been so busy lately with all the League of Villain madness. It feels great to just be in the moment every now and again.”

Sitting on Fukukado’s other side, directly across from Nemuri, Takeyama stares down at her small glass of champagne, her eyebrows knitted together in exhaustion. The Giant Hero, like Ms. Joke, is dressed in casual clothing, wearing short blue jean shorts with a simple orange tank top and a single star-shaped golden necklace around her neck. Her long, wavy blond hair is tied back in a ponytail, which spirals down to her midback in beautiful platinum waves. 

“I knew starting my own agency was going to be hard, but I didn’t think it would be this hard,” Takeyama confesses, exhaustion lacing her tone. “Like, I can’t effectively take down any villains because my size destroys so much property, and I hate that my fans only seem to like me because they want me to step on them! It’s so weird! People are weird and gross!” She drops her head onto the table and groans mutely into the polished wood. “And here I thought the big city would be different from home.”

Tatsuma places a gentle hand on Takeyama’s back and pats it reassuringly. Like Nemuri, Tatsuma is dressed for the occasion in a simple yet elegant violet dress with a chain of pearls around her neck and diamond earrings in her ear. It is no surprise Ryukyu would wear such beautiful jewelry, though given her status as a dragon, Nemuri wasn’t surprised.  “Don’t worry, Takeyama. We all start off rough, but guaranteed your agency will become amazing,” the Dragon Hero encourages the blond heroine gently, and Takeyama’s shoulders only slightly relax.

Fukukado taps her chin, her dark green eyes thoughtful. “Come to think of it, aren’t you and Kamui Woods, like, a thing now? I heard his agency is successful, maybe you can talk to him about it,” she says, and Takeyama reaches across the table with frantic shushing gestures.

“Don’t say that outloud! We want to keep our relationship private! The last thing we need is the media crawling up our asses about it,” she snarls at the Laughing Hero, and Fukukado raises her hands in surrender.

“Oops! My bad!” Fukukado yelps and frantically checks around her in case anyone was listening in. Nemuri and Tatsuma make eye contact from across the table and snicker to themselves.

“Kamui Woods is a very dependable man, though,” Tatsuma adds. “I’m proud of you.”

Takeyama buries her face in her hands. “Can’t we talk about anything else?” she whines.

Fukukado’s smile returns full force, and a shit-eating grin splits across her face. “But why though? Everyone loves hearing about a good romance!” She cups her hands to her cheeks and swoons giddily. “Like, just the other day, I ran into Eraserhead at a coffee shop! It was so amazing, like something out of a romance novel!” 

Nemuri’s cerulean eyes widen slightly. “Oh yeah, he told me about that. Didn’t he leave the second he saw you?” she asks.

Fukukado’s cheeks flush red, and she chuckles awkwardly. “Oh, yeah, he did. Something about not wanting to deal with my energy or whatever. But that just makes it so much more exciting! I mean, look at him, all dark and mysterious and broody~!”

“Not to mention a total hobo who forgets to shower half the time,” Nemuri adds. The other heroines at the table chuckle.

“AND he’s the only one who I haven’t gotten to laugh yet!” Fukukado goes on, ignoring Nemuri’s remark. “One of these days, I’ll get him to laugh! If not, at least smile! Yeah, that would be amazing.”

“Why not use your Quirk?” Tatsuma asks.

Fukukado shakes her head adamantly. “He erases Quirks, remember? Besides, I don’t just wanna make him laugh! I want to really make him laugh, you know? Something authentic. Using my Quirk would just be dishonest and mean.”

Nemuri shrugs her shoulders, though a part of her is secretly relieved. She’s known Eraserhead since high school, and knowing him, the main reason he wouldn’t want to try dating Fukukado would be because he doesn’t want to be influenced by her Quirk. Then again, this is Eraserhead they’re talking about. After what happened in high school, he probably wouldn’t give her a chance either way. He has trouble enough making friends, let alone dating. The cruel reality of hero work scarred him, and the mere thought of it hurts her heart. Fear guides him, and Nemuri desperately wishes she could do something to help.

“What about you, Midnight?” Nemuri perks up, and finds the eyes of the other heroines glued on her. Fukukado leans forward eagerly, her dark green eyes sparkling like diamonds. “Do you have anyone you’re with right now? With your gorgeous looks and bedazzling personality, I’ll bet yes!”

Tatsuma casts Fukukado a significant look. “Ms. Joke, your bi is showing,” she comments, startling a laugh out of Takeyama.

Nemuri glances down at her wine glass and slowly sways it around in her grasp, watching the dark red liquid roll within its transparent chamber. Her smile becomes wistful. “I’ve had flings, but serious relationships? Nope. I haven’t had any in years. Probably not since high school,” she replies honestly.

Takeyama lifts her head, blinking at the R-Rated Hero in surprise. “What? There’s no way. Your entire aesthetic is about intimacy! Especially the sexy kind,” she gapes, and Nemuri chuckles at her reaction.

“It’s true. I haven’t had a proper boyfriend since my third year in high school, and to be honest…” Nemuri’s smile becomes bitter, and she chuckles in spite of her hypocrisy. “I don’t think I’ll ever date again. Hurts too much.”

Fukukado grimaces slightly. “Oof, was he really that bad?” she asks, and Nemuri immediately shakes her head.

“No, no. In fact, he was amazing. He was the sweetest, funniest, most loyal person I’d ever met. He cared about everyone unconditionally, and he would always go out of his way to help people. Hell, this one time, he found a kitten stuck in the rain and brought it with him to school,” she reminisces, smiling at the memory of him. Even now she can clearly see his broad, glowing smile, and the image sparks an old pain in her heart. “He was my everything. Even though we wanted different things out of life-- with him wanting to start an agency with his other friends, and me wanting to start the Midnight Agency-- we still promised we’d be together. That we'd make it work.”

Fukukado’s brows are drawing together in concern, now, and acid rises in Nemuri’s chest at the realization in her eyes. “Wait, you’re talking about him in the past tense,” she says. “What… happened?”

Nemuri’s smile falls completely, and she utters a deep sigh. “The worst,” she responds. “About fifteen years ago, we were alerted to a villain attack in Tasomiya Ward, a giant monster with the ability to stockpile power.” Tatsuma and Fukukado’s eyes widen nearly simultaneously, no doubt recognizing the event, but Takeyama blinks at Nemuri in confusion; she’s too new to the career to know. 

Her voice shudders, but still, Nemuri goes on, “All of us were there. Me, Eraserhead, Present Mic, and… him. We did everything in our power to stop the monster, but it was too big. We couldn’t do anything. I was evacuating everyone out of the area while he, Present Mic, and Eraserhead went to go stop the villain. Civilians got hurt; there’s no way to protect everyone. But he…”

The image washes over her, stealing away all her breath in an instant. She can smell the salty rain clouds, she can feel the slick pavement beneath her boots, the uncomfortable way debris clings to her sweaty skin. Above all else, she remembers rounding the corner just in time to see a cloud explode to life over a class of kindergarteners and their teacher, leaving them protected but him exposed. Their eyes made contact, and before Nemuri could do anything, before she could call out his name or take a step forward, a giant chunk of debris was upon him, and she was helpless to watch it swallow him whole.

The scene barely lasted for more than a few seconds, but she can still see it. The sickening crunch resonating through the air as his skull cracks open, the violent spray of blood from his head… She suddenly wants to throw up her wine and crumble into a ball. Old insecurities she thought she’d abandoned were suddenly creeping up the back of her mind, whispering terribly in her ears.

“Your quirk is useless. It couldn’t protect anyone, especially not your loved ones.”

“It’s because you’re so useless he’s dead.”

“Why are you even a hero?”

“Midnight?”

Nemuri snaps out of the memory and finds the other heroines looking at her in worry. She quickly realizes she’d dropped her wine glass to cover her face, and while thankfully the glass didn’t break, the wine was splattered all over the table top. It looks exactly like his blood.

“Midnight,” Tatsuma reaches out to her and gently takes her hands, leading them away from her face and gripping them tightly. Nemuri clings onto the contact, desperately wishing her hands were someone else’s. “Are you okay? Do you need a moment?”

Nemuri shakes her head slowly and slips her hands out of Tatsuma’s reach. She hates it when people look at her with those worried eyes. “It affected all of us,” Nemuri goes on. “Obviously, it hurt me. I lost my boyfriend and the guy I wanted to… but Present Mic and Eraserhead lost their best friend. Their brother.”

Fukukado shakes her head, tears springing to her eyes. “Oh, Midnight, I’m… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to open an old wound,” she whispers in horror, and Nemuri shakes her head again, this time with more resolve.

“It’s fine, really. It gave me a horrible wake up call, that above all else, we are heroes. Whether we want to acknowledge it or not. Every day we go out there and put our lives on the line. We could live, we could die, but what matters most is protecting others.” She glances down at the wine spilled all over the table, and her own reflection stares back at her with wary acceptance. She sighs, long and tired. “Watching him die made me realize how easily life can be lost, how tragedy can strike in an instant. That’s why I want to embrace my youth for as long as I can, so I can live enough for both of us.” Her reflection’s lips quirk upward into a trying smile. “That way, when I die, when I can finally see him again, I can tell him about all my adventures with pride.”

Nemuri looks up and finds herself staring into the wet faces of the other heroes. Tatsuma, Fukukado, and Takeyama are all staring at their senior hero with wide, tearful eyes, and Nemuri likes to think in this moment, they felt more respect for the seasoned heroine.

Nemuri smiles back at them and wipes the tears from her eyes. “Remember that, you three,” she tells them. “Go forward knowing nothing-- not even love-- is certain, but don’t let it scare you. The world is scary, dangerous, and even cruel, but what’s most important is cherishing the people in our lives.” She raises her wine glass and what remains of the wine sloshes around in its glassy imprisonment. “To living.”

Fukukado, Tatsuma, and Takeyama look between themselves. One by one, they lift their drinks to the sky, each glass a different shape containing a different drink. “To living,” they echo, and tap their glasses together with Nemuri’s. The R-Rated Hero smiles truly, her heart swelling with pride.

Nemuri drives home alone that night.

Of course, the four heroines stayed at that bar for hours, laughing and drinking together once the shock of Nemuri’s lost-love bombshell faded away. As their senior, Nemuri only drank a few sips of her wine every now and again (although the gruesome memories made her want to get wasted out of her mind), and she allowed the other heroes to have their fun and get as wasted as they want. Takeyama and Fukukado were joking around, having a blast singing old pop culture songs together, occasionally getting Tatsuma to join in whenever the Dragon Hero got over her shyness.

Eventually, Nemuri dragged the three drunken heroines back into her car (thankful they all decided to take Nemuri’s car there and back), and she drove all the ladies home, making sure they had all their possessions with them before leaving. Once she dropped them all off at their houses and made small talk with any partners they had waiting for them, she decided to gather her wits and go home herself. Today was a long day, and she was surprised to find herself emotionally exhausted so soon.

The bar is a fifteen minute drive from her house, but as soon as she leaves her car and strides up the driveway, she pulls open the front door and steps inside her dark home. Despite it’s nice size, being a two story house with multiple bedrooms and bathrooms, only Nemuri lives in it, though she’s not completely alone.

“Meow!” Nemuri looks down, and her heart lifts slightly as her tabby orange cat comes bounding over to her, high in energy despite his age. Nemuri kneels down to collect him in her arms, and she cradles the cat like a baby.

“Hello, Sushi-baby,” she coos at him as she kicks the front door shut and locks it behind her. “How are you doing? Were you keeping the house safe from big bad strangers while I was gone?”

Sushi meows in response and nuzzles her bust.

The house is big and empty now, but one day, Nemuri hopes she’ll marry and settle down, maybe start a family all her own. It won’t be for a while, and honestly, Nemuri is scared to start dating out of fear of herself or her partner dying, but she decided a long time ago to live by her words so she bought the house regardless. She’s getting older now, and at thirty-two, she knows she doesn’t have much time left. At the very least, Oboro would want her to be happy, even if her happiness isn’t with him. She just hopes she can find someone accepting of her tastes and interests, like he did. 

Nemuri enters her living room and sits back in her recliner, pulling out her phone to amuse herself. Sushi immediately adjusts himself in her lap and kneads her legs with his paws, turning around in a circle before plopping down into a comfortable loaf. Nemuri scratches him behind the ears with a faint smile.

“We’ll be okay,” she says, more so to herself than to the cat.

Sushi’s lazy purring is her only response.

Nemuri leans back into her chair and sighs. Tomorrow will be a new day.