#but on the other hand. I was once bullied by my classmates too. because I was not cis. so tjis. I'm sorry she had to go through this

[swallowed-by-the-moon]

am I not fucking special?

[uravitypng]

pseudo/faux - brother & sister ((toru-nii?)) ??? -oikawa x chubby reader HEAR ME OUT GUYS TORU WOULD HAVE THESE PERVERTED FEELINGS ABOUT SOMEONE WHO GREW UP TOGETHER LIKE SIBLINGS !!! (i've been thinking about this for the last couple days so i had to write it but go easy on me, first time writing this concept.) (there's probably mistakes in this, i wrote it before bed, i'm sleepy, sdfgchjvs)<3 (dark content)(MDNI -18+)(always check the warnings on my writing)

you're the younger sister of hajime by a year and you've been close since you were kids, you were his number one supporter. even though you were a year apart you spent a lot time together because you didn't have many friends you had joined the volleyball team as the manager so you could spend more time with him.

because of hajime it meant that you grew up surrounded by toru as well. you were so close you even called him toru-nii, he was like family, an older brother like hajime but toru didn't see you like that, not anymore...

once he had been your protector from bullies and your tutor to help you pass difficult classes you didn't understand but that was a long time ago now, you're not kids anymore.

in your eyes he's still your toru-nii, just like hajime is your nii-san. people say you need to stop calling them such childish nicknames now that you're in your adulthood but you ignore them, it doesn't sound right coming out of your mouth when you call them their names.

toru doesn't know when his feelings started to change towards you, he doesn't know when his innocent feelings became warped, when he started to feel guilty. all he knows is just one day you came running up to him wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him, your soft body pressing against him, you hadn't seen each other in weeks since you've both been so busy and barely had any contact at all through texts. oikawa hugged your back just as tightly that day.

all he knows is that day something changed within him, he wanted to hug you all the time, wanted you on your lap. he wanted you to go to every single game of his and wear his oversized jersey, imaging how it would cling to your round frame. he wanted to kiss your chubby cheeks and take you to fancy restaurants. he wants you.

it became a problem that day, you grabbing his hand to take him where you want to go while you call his toru-nii, that should have stopped his feelings in his tracks but it didn't- he got hard. that was the thing that made him guilty, you referring to him as toru-nii made him aroused. he wanted you to call him it again, straight after.

an innocent nickname turned into something more.

to you nothing changed though, you didn't ever think of him differently. you knew girls fawned over him and objectively you understand why but it's weird for you to think about for too long. back at school some of your classmates would say how jealous they are of you because you get to spend so much time with oikawa and you agreed that you were lucky to spend time with him, just for completely different reasons.

what toru didn't realise is his feelings towards you weren't something that he was suppose to feel even when you were both younger. he excused it as an big brother being protective just like iwa is but it wasn't the same. it's not normal to disguise subtle threats with a smile whenever someone got a bit to close up and personal with you asking for your number, he wouldn't want them to hurt your feelings. it's not normal for him to offhandedly make a comment in front of a large group of people about someone who upset you, if a rumour gets spread around school about that person then so well. he did this all platonically of course... hajime would have done exactly the same... right?

so was it really a surprise that late at night he couldn't help himself but stroke his cock, bucking his hips up to meet his hand. wet sounds echo around the room and toru lightly applies more pressure when his hand hits the base of his pelvis. his other hand holds onto his sheet tightly as he groans and moans picturing you there with him.

he starts talking like you're there with him, imagining you bouncing on his cock and your plump figure laying underneath him. stomach rolls squished together when when he's pushed your legs up against your chest and body jiggling with each thrust.

"feels so good baby, you make me feel so good. i know- ffuck- i know i'm big baby but you can take it, can't you. let toru-nii look after you." as soon as he says 'let toru-nii look after you' he cums with a moan of your name.

with every single night that passes he feels less guilty. this weekend you're planning to stay at his for a few days instead of getting a hotel. oikawa knows his walls aren't very thick. 'maybe she'll decide to help her poor toru-nii out. maybe she loves her toru-nii like i love her.'

[petew21-blog]

Friends for life

This Zack, my best childhood friend. When we were kids, we were basically inspereable. We spent so much time together. We slept over each tohers houses. Even better was the fact that our moms were best frinds. So not only they spend so much time together, but so did we. But that was 6 years ago. Everything changed when my dad died. Zack was there for me, but over time we grew apart. I had to help out my mum with my two sisters and she had to get another job to get enough money for us. Zack's mom on the other hand got divorced and found a new boyfriend. Who I heard didn't really get on well with Zack.

Me and Zack talked from time to time, but it was mainly superficial. Zack was now a very well respected guy in the school. He was always into sports. But now he was a swimmer, basketball and a football player as well. I don't know where he got all that time and energy. Even if we saw each other in the classroom we just smiled or waved at each other. Maybe even this very tiny friendship was the reason why no bullies dared to touch me. Not that Zack would every bully anyone, but if he knew that the other guys bullied someone, he always stood up for that person and ended it. And the bullies even apologized sometimes. That's how respected he was.

So yeah Zack's a jock and I am a classic nerd. Or maybe not classic. I don't really have much time to play games on the computer because of my job, but when I have some spare time I read comic books. So yeah, that makes me a nerd I suppose. And I do quite well at school too. Maybe not the PE, I kinda suck at that, but I get by.

Present time

Me and several other classmates were assigned to start decorating the halls for upcoming prom. Most of my classmates were really excited for that, but not me. I didn't have anyone to go with. Not anyone I wanted to atleast. Ok, I'll say it. I am gay, which complicates things a bit. And the person I would really like to go to prom with is Zack. But that will never happen. Zack is 100% striaght and it would totally ruin his reputation in the school.

But that doesn't stop me from obssessing about him. I saw him a few times in the locker rooms which gave me a pretty consistent image of how he changed over the years. He was pretty much the same Zack I grew up with, but I bet that his junk is much bigger than I remember. Truth be told, Zack was the first (and only) person who I had any sexual experience with. I know it sounds sus, but he only wanted to experiment jerking each other off as most boys do at their younger years. Back then I was really puzzled and didn't know what to do. Now I just wish I could go back to that moment once again.

I was one of the few remaining students. The rest headed to the shops to get their dresses and suits. I told them to leave and that I would finish it by myself, cause I wasn't planning on going anyway.

I entered the gym to get a ladder, to help me set up the last few letters over the door. And there he was, on the other side of the room. Zack was lifting some weights I didn't even know how to name. He noticed me battling with the ladder nd hurried up to help me. I mean... wouldn't you crush about him too?

Zack:"Hey, man. Nobody came to help you with this? It's pretty heavy."

Me:"Hey, no. They all left to get their suits and all. So it's just me now."

Zack:"Oh, that's sad. You need help with something?"

Me:"No, it's fine. It's just final touches. But thanks"

Zack:"All right, man. But if you need, don't hesitate to ask ok?"

He smiled and went back to finish his set.

I was basically drooling, As I was climbing the ladder and trying to reach the letters, I stumbled and grabbed onto a light. I must have been shocked or something cause then I found myself on the floor. But I wasn't on the ground, I was standing. And on the ground was my body, unconcious.

I looked at my hands and they were barely visible. I tried to reach my body but it wouldn't accept my soul. Fuck, am I dying? I tried to call out for Zack but he didn't hear me. I ran to him and saw him lifting his weights. I tried to reach for him, but before I did I felt a force pulling me towards him. And as I was pulled away I felt something being ejected out of his body.

I opened my eyes, looking in front of me. But Zack was gone now. I turned around but he wasn't anywhere. As I looked down, I noticed I was now wearing bright red shorts, and on top of that a very sweaty torso, which definitely wasn't mine. I reached out my hands. Fuck, is this really happening? I searched the pockets and found a phone. In its reflection I saw Zack's face. Oh my god. Did I really just possess Zack's body? And where is he?

The responsible flow of thoughts was now interrupted by the two huge sweaty biceps now in the way where I usually didn't mind them. I flexed and oh my god, the tightness, the strength. I felt amazing.

I knew it was bad, but I just had to give it a try. What if I might never have a chance to do this ever again, I stuck out my new tongue and licked my new shoulder all the way to my biceps. Which also allowed me now to inhale the scent of my sweaty armpit. "This is so amazing!"

I then proceeded to touch my new belly full off abs. "How the hell did he get these?"

"Lot of working out and calorie deficit" a voice called out from the other side of the room, where I was before. And there was my body. Standing.

"Zack? Is that you?"

"Yeah. Would you mind telling me how this happened?"

I wanted to be completely honest, I swear, but I think that he doesn't need to know the part where my soul travelled to his body and was pulled by it.

"So, are we gonna try to reverse it the same way? Cause your body is really hurting from the fall and my body needs to be ready for a game tommorow. So I'm not really sure about that"

"I'm really sorry about that Zack. I mean, you're right that maybe it was my near deth experience that caused this, but I don't know if endangering our lives would allow to swap us back. What if the other one dies and the remaining one will have to keep on living the other ones life?"

"Yeah, you're onto something. Well, we're gonna have to figure out how to pass on as each other."

We spoke some more about how we were gonna live our lives without anyone thinking we have gone crazy.

"Ok, Zack. Just one question. How about... you know. Private stuff?"

"You mean my personal things at home or phone? Well that shouldn't be so bad I think. I don't have many secrets to tell or something, haha"

"No, I mean. Eventually we're gonna have to take a shower or go to a toilet."

"Oh, right. I haven't thought of that. Well, than my body is your body? I mean, I don't really like to think about somebody else using my body like that, but I know you're a good person and all, so I know you'll treat my body well. Maybe just... no sex? Could you do that for me please?"

"Zach, I haven't had sex yet even in my body. I mean, your body is attractive and all so, I know I could get a date in your body or smth, but that's not something I would do."

"Ok, thanks man. Just making sure. And also another thing. I..."

"What is i Zack?"

"Give me a second, it's kind off embarasing for me. I have to jerk off in the evening everyday. If I don't I sometimes have wet dreams the next morning"

"Dude, that's nothing to be ashamed of. That happens, Zack"

"Thanks. I know you mean well, but I just know my body. So I know you'll have to take care of that now or you'll have a very unpleasant morning including the washing of the clothes and bed linens."

I felt Zack dick in my new shorts getting hard just by hearing about this. Not only am I in the body of my crush, but he himself gave me permission to jerk off his dick. How crazy is that?

"Ok, Zack. If that's what needs to be done, I'll do it." I said it in a way to make it sound like I wasn't thrilled to jerk off his dick

"And in exchange I'll get to jerk off your dick. Do you have any other secrets I should know about?"

OH FUCK NO I am not telling him "Well... not really. I think."

"Good, then let's get to it. In case you won't know what to do, just text me and I'll help you"

I was approaching Zack's house. The one where I basically grew up secondary to mine. I knew where all the rooms were. What stuff was placed where. But that was before the death of my dad and before the divorce. Who knows what's different

I entered the house anticipating horrible things. And then a strange man left the restroom. "Hey, dipshit. Back from school already? Jesus fuck. The kids these days. Why don't you get a job kid" he left for the kitchen to grab himself a cold beer and left for the living room.

Now I understand why Zack spent so much time at school doing sports. He didn't want to stay at home longer than necessary.

Anyway, up to Zack's room. His room was not filthy, it was kind of clean, but at the same time it was a but disorganized. Some of his used clothes were lying on the ground. I grabbed one of his boxers and grabbed it to my face. This is my smell now. The smell of my dick. I inhaled and held it to my nose.

As I felt my dick hardening, I didn't waste no time and started undressing myself. Zack's small mirror didn't do the trick for me so I left to the bathroom.

"Ok, modern shower. That's new. Gonna have to give it a go"

I took off all my remaining clothes. I left his necklace on and then just stared at my new reflection in the mirror. How amazing is this?

I touched his jawline, his already growing beard, scratching my hand. His lips, shivering underneath my touch. His beautiful nose. His eyes, that now contained my soul and not his looked a bit different, but same too. I took my right hand and place it on my neck while my left hand was already enjoying the hairtrail blow my stomach.

"Oh Zack, I think you'd be the type to shave. Might do that for you to fully embrace this massive beast" and with that I lowered my right hand that was before resting on my vibrating throat and now started jerking my new dick.

"Just doing what I had been told. Haha"

I jerked faster. I was slightly moaning but not loud enough to cause suspicion with Zack's step dad. I was observing the tense muscles just working hard to get me into the state of pure euphoria.

I was getting close. I couldn't stop myself from moaning. I jerked so hard that the cum flew out of my dick right to the mirror in front of me. Is I stood there, smiling with my semi-hard dick in my hand I just saw the door swung open.

I quickly covered my dick and whole self with a towel, but even the partial view could give the viewer enough information. His step dad was furious

"What the hell you fucker?!? You're jerking off here while you could do some usefull job instead? I will have a very long talk with your mother when she gets here!"

What the hell just happened. Why is he so mad at Zack all the time. He's a student and a busy one at that. I don't know what this guy's problem is

I cleaned up the bathroom and got ready for the next time. Just the fact that I got the privilege to smell Zack's scent all the time and sleep in his bed. But having his body was a whole new level. I never even dreamed of this

The next day was horrible. I started the day with PE at school and let me tell you, that having a great body full of muscles is one thing. But having a weak will to actually do it is another. I was exhausted. I felt like I wouldn't be able to get up again after finishing

I saw Zack aproaching me in my body with a concerned look. I was beggining to worry what was on his mind

Zack:"Hey... umm how was your first night as me?"

Me:"Gotta say that the stepdad you got there is an another level of douchebag. I can't believe how you can live with that"

Zack:"Yeah, he is like that all the time. I don't know what mom sees in him. He's actually super nice to her, but seems to hate me just for breathing"

Me:"Yeah. I'll tell you later. There has been a bit of embarassing encounter"

Zack:"Actually I might ask you about something else first. Last night as I was in the bed I was trying to jerk off your dick, very nice by the way"

Me:"Jesus, don't make it more awkward than it is"

Zack:"Sorry. We'll I was trying to jerk off as I normally would, watching porn and stuff, but I couldn't. Then my mind wandered over to the guy on the video... I have to ask you and don't be afraid to answer. Are you gay?"

Me:"Yeah... I've been meaning to tell you for a long time. Well... since we're already saying everything to each other. I'll just admit it right now. I... I have a crush on you Zack"

Zack:"That was my another question. I have my head filled with thoughts. Very naughty thoughts including my body, so I am happy that you cleared this up and I am not just another self centered weirdo. But the question is. Would you let me suck my dick?"

Oh man

Another story from the inbox: Can you do a classic swap story between a nerd and a straight jock? I always find those to be super hot

Hey guys. Sorry for the great break. I was finishing my exams (I passed them all, yay) and now I am in a different country on an externship trying to figure shit out. But I do have some free time during the day and I get to write a bit about my drafts and the stories in your inbox. And thanks to everyone who texted me all the supportive and kind words :) really appreciate it

[motherraid]

ABSOLUTELY NOT DONE WITH MY SEBEK THIRST AND I TRULY NEED TO SPEAK ON THIS.

Sebek x AFAB!reader nsfw below the cut:

((Tw: somno(?) Dubcon(?) A bit of bullying and mean names/big boy words/pervy Sebek/dumbification? Maybe? I think?/and ooc sebek maybe im not sure))

We see so much Sebek as either the completely subby pillow prince or a sebek that's SO dominant he's like some mafia boss in a wattpad fanfic? It's all wonderful, don't get me wrong. But is that ALL we wanna reduce sebek to? D:

I absolutely CAN see and DO see most times where he's just subby and whimpering and crying, and it IS accurate, but it's not ALL that could happen! We need to start changing! it! up!! He's still Sebek for crying out loud! He'll end up having you crying and spaced out on his cock regardless of how bad you wanna ruin him.

Hear me out, pervy Sebek.

Okay, maybe when you aren't together yet he's mean and snarky, referring to you as "human" and pretending to hate your guts like always, but he'll still try to find excuses to perv on you!!!!! He's so enraptured that he can't help it.

Sebek's so needy that accidentally grazing your hand too high up his arm is a sin you need to repent for it with your pussy. You'd find yourself stuffed in an old broom closet or empty classroom in a heartbeat. He just can't take it anymore. He's already spreading your lips with two fingers and using his other hand to hold your hip in place, your ass squished firmly against the cold wall behind you and your skirt in a heap at your ankles. Who else have you been seducing while he wasn't around? He will not stand for your lecherous ways! He must protect his fellow classmates! The only way to do that is to make you cream on his tongue so many times that you can't think straight. Then, you'll be too tired to prey on any more poor, defenseless students at Night Raven College. Yank his hair, and that's another five minutes of him playing with your pretty cunt. Don't test him, harlot.

Your panties he'll be taking. Probably some lame excuse about your "punishment" for coming onto him like a shameless whore. But... We all know that by the time he gets back to his room in Diasomnia, he's soo horny from the anticipation. He wants to savor the moment, but before he can even pull his pants down he gets a whiff of you once he takes your panties out of his pocket. Now people can hear him mewling while he creams his pants through the walls.

"AND WHAT IF WE'RE TALKING ABOUT SEBEK THAT'S IN A RELATIONSHIP??!!! D:" I hear you ask (no one asked me anything. I'm delusional).

He still will not take no for an answer. He's not going easy on you just because you've won his heart. He is more gentle when initiating, but he still won't drop the "you need to be punished" bit. You've riled him up (you blinked in his general direction), and you have to take responsibility for your actions. He thinks, anyway... Everything is kinda fuzzy, so he can't really process the words coming out of his mouth right now. Sebek doesn't know whether he just cried that you're a horrible temptress or begged you to sit on his face.

Oh, and dont get me STARTED on the crocodile tears. Where's the Sebek that snivels with tears in his eyes while he's ramming his cock into you? Where's the Sebek that's so lost he disjointedly drawls into your shoulder about how you're so pretty and warm?? About how he can't stop himself? How you feel too good for him to stop??? Just one more round? Please?? Where's the Sebek that squeals and sobs when he's stuffed you with his cum for the umpteenth time?? Orgasm so intense his eyes cross and toes curl??? Nose buried in your hair and inhaling hard cause he can't get enough of your smell????? YOU'RE the one getting stuffed with his cock, bent and twisted every which way over any furniture or solid surface he can find at the time, so why is HE the one whining and moaning like a whore?

YES!! He is awkward and has no idea what he's doing, but after a while, he's so desperate he just.. Doesn't care. He's gets so erratic and clingy, and it's such whiplash from how proper and uptight he normally acts in public it's insane.

I need to see this boy's fae genes take over. I need to see this boy instinctively feel the need to have you bouncing on his dick all throughout your fertile window. His big dumb crocodile brain can't understand anything other than stuffing you full of his little hatchling(s).

And he would never curse at you once you two are together!! He'll only praise you. He'll tell you how much he loves you, how amazing you are, and how good you feel. He's got too much love to give, and he wants you to give him your love, too. So please sweet talk and praise him. He'll nut instantly. Even if it doesn't mean he'll stop slipping back into you after cumming all over the backs of your thighs. Praise him. Please?

He can't help it. He HAS to have you. It gets so bad he wants to start fucking you almost anywhere. Like a disgusting wild animal. Even if you WANT to take charge or ride him? He gets so carries away he just grabs your hips and snaps up into you over and over. Sorry babe, you can't tame the croc right now. Do you want to be in control? It's such a shame. Really is. Once you've riled him up enough, he goes into big dumb crocodile mode. And in big dumb crocodile mode he'll forget everything and fuck you like a fleshlight. Sorry, I don't make the rules.

But don't think YOU'RE the one being fucked stupid. This boy is a pile of mush on top of you!! He's mid hiccup, muttering how much he loves you into your ear, sobbing and slobbering onto the back of your neck. His jabbering is oddly sweet for someone bent over your ass, hips slamming yours so forcefully you're jerked forward with every thrust (or you WOULD be if his big ass wasn't smushing you into the mattress with his weight because he just DOESN'T have the strength to hold himself up with his arms or grab your hips right now. The most he can do is prop himself up on one elbow).

You're trapped underneath a giant who loves you so much he's unconsciously using you like a sex doll. After a certain point in time this boy's mind is so cloudy he's not even fucking you for your pleasure. He just can't stop. It feels too good and his hips are moving on their own and he's too far gone to consciously still them. He's so pathetic he can't even find your clit. His hand is just rubbing at the bottom of your tummy in circles on instinct, and he does NOT care to correct himself. You'll have to do that for him, sorry.

You can definitely tell that boy is half fae. His stamina is WELL beyond normal humans. Even now that you've blacked out, he still has yet to stop. In fact, he doesn't realize you're asleep. He's still crying about "one more round," "Just a bit more.. Please??" And, "A few more minutes." And best believe you're gonna help the damn boy. I mean, how are you REALLY going to refuse him now that you're asleep anyway??

Huh... Actually... Maybe he DOES know that you're asleep.. I don't think he'd be guiltily snapping pictures of your unaware face to jerk to later otherwise.

[niceboyeds]

but daddy i love him (e.m)

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: sometimes you have to put the gossipers in their place, and sometimes you have to give them something to talk about. inspired by none other than the masterpiece that is The Tortured Poets Department!

contains: bullying, fluff, language, sexual innuendos if you squint, i think that's it but please reach out if i missed anything!

word count: 1.2K

a/n: hi babies I'm baaaack! with that said I'm rusty so please don't hurt my feelings lmao. i have an idea for a smutty pt. 2 if enough of you want it! okay here we go...

(tagging some mutuals so i don’t get lost in the blackhole: @luvmunson @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @munsonology @lightvixxen @ali-r3n @espressomunson 🫶)

masterlist

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

there was always something exciting about being with a bad boy. but then again, there was nothing “bad” about Edward Munson. he may get a bad rap but, aside from his lunchbox goodies, he is a gentleman before anything else. and a damn good lover. 

you sit in the diner with your friends, snickers and snide remarks could be heard all throughout the room and dozens of eyes burn into the back of your head for what felt like the millionth time. unfortunately that’s one of the prices to pay living in a small town like Hawkins.

Eddie is better than you, though, and doesn’t let it get the best of him. and while you know you could never physically fight someone, you still aren’t shy enough to threaten it. you are, to put it gently, less “reserved” with your words, and make sure to put the lonely housewives and their preppy children in their place about their assumptions of him. 

things have gotten worse as your dating life has expanded out beyond the four walls of Eddie’s quaint trailer or the few friendly drunks at the hideout once a week. you and Eddie both craved being together in public and decided long ago that you don’t care who has something to say about it. 

besides, you know who the real Edward Munson is, you don’t believe what the judgmental church-goers or ex-cheerleaders think of you. the only time it gets you is when you can see it hurting him. 

throughout lunch you keep one hand in his, feeling him tense up every so often when he hears his name come out of their mouths. 

“i wouldn’t be caught dead with that freak!” you hear from a group of your old classmates’ table followed by an eruption of laughter. 

Eddie squeezes your hand three times before letting go, scooting his chair out from the table and excusing himself to the restroom. the friends at your table all look to you for the next move, enough looks of defeat for you to end this once and for all. with a soft smile, you throw a $20 bill on the table and rise from your seat. 

“sorry guys.” you sigh, motioning for them to gather their things to leave as you push in your chair and make your way to the table across the room. Dustin trots his way to the restroom to grab Eddie as you hear Robin say your name softly, urging you to leave it be but everyone knows you can’t.

“hey guys! how are you?” you beam at your old friends, doing your best to smile at them. “Stacy, Lauren, Molly…” you exaggerate her name, informing her you heard her comment loud and clear. 

mumbles of good’s and small nods emit from them and their eyes bounce to one another nervously. “aw that’s so good to hear!” you beam, “i’m doing great too, in case you were curious. ya know, i couldn’t help but overhear you guys chatting over here and i just felt like i needed to come say hi.” their smiles drop immediately as you talk, and you let them sit in their fear of what you’ll say next. 

“yeah, you know what they say… once a bitch always a bitch, right?” silence fills the diner and you hear Max cough to cover her giggle at the door. 

“i’m sorry?” Lauren scoffs, genuinely unable to comprehend the fact that you might be putting them in their place. 

“aw, you should be. because let’s face it, it’s pretty embarrassing that we graduated years ago and you still act like this.” you look at them with pure disgust, knowing they haven’t changed in the slightest. you speak with confidence, your tone still friendly, “and to think you used to truly care for me.”

“w-we do still care for you. we just want what’s best for you.” Stacy chirps as the other two nod along with her.

“what’s best for me? pretending like you’re all some fucking saints walking around and saying you’re praying for me to ‘come to my senses’ as if i have no control over my own life? who i love is my choice, so save your prayers for yourself because you’re the most judgmental creeps i’ve ever met.”

you turn to leave, your sweet group of friends still standing by the door waiting for you, Eddie having joined them just in the heat of your argument. reaching for his hand, you crack open the door and turn one last time to their table. 

“and by the way? i’m having his baby!” their eyes widen with horror and their mouths fall agape as you follow Eddie through the door and giggle, skipping to be directly next to him.  

“woah, woah, woah?! you’re pregnant??” Steve asks, genuinely unsure as you laugh at his question. 

“no, i’m not. but oh my god did you see their faces??” 

Eddie chuckles alongside you, and you feel relieved he’s made light of the situation along with you. “yeah, not yet.”

~~~~~~~~

you sit on the couch with Eddie seated directly in front of you on the shaggy carpet. one by one you twirl his messy curls into ringlets with an unfathomable amount of hair products. you feel his once tense body relax against your knees as he twiddles with the frayed pieces of your blue jeans. 

“it’s true, y’know…” he says softly, barely above a whisper. 

“what’s that?” you ponder, curious more-so as to why his tone has saddened during your comfortable silence.

“what they all say. that you’d be better off with someone else- someone other than me..?”

“no, i don’t think they know what the hell they’re talking about.” your hands continue to work on his hair, with only a few sections left you couldn’t allow yourself to leave it be. But you continue to reassure him. 

“Eds, i don’t care that they think i shouldn’t be with you. i want to be with you. I love you. isn’t that what matters? not what all these bored-ass people think, but what we want?” 

“you… you love me?” he turns his head to face you once you drop the final curl back against his head. an ear to ear grin plastered on his face and his eyebrows wiggle. 

“of course i love you, silly. i love you more than i have the words to express.” you tell him truthfully, knowing in your heart that he is the man for you. 

“i love you too. i love you so fucking much.” 

he stands up from his crouching position, pulling you up from the couch with him. your lips instinctively crash into his. 

you interlock your fingers around his neck, trying to bring him closer to you as if you weren’t already impossibly close to him. you sloppily kiss each other before you pull away from him, a small string of saliva still connecting you to him as your lips separate. 

“eww!” you laugh, before pulling him by the hand and dragging him down the hallway to his bedroom. “come on, slow poke!”

“hey! i thought you said you weren’t having my baby.” he teased, bringing up the silly comment you had said earlier at the diner. 

“yeah, not yet.”

[saltofmercury]

"Pillow Talk"

Pairing: König x f!reader

A/N: Had to get this out of my drafts

Summary: You and König stay up talking about your lives.

warnings: talks about kids, fluff, bullying, etc.

"Pillow Talk"

It had been 3 hours since you both had gone to bed.

Three hours since you both kissed goodnight, turned away from one another, but somewhere along the line nonstop talking, giggles, and random stories were given to one another.

Both you and König were facing each other in bed, legs wrapped on top of one another, while he had an arm under you and you had your arm on top of him.

“That was why my dad never got us pet fish.” You said. 

It had started with König asking you a simple question, his back turned to you, and then you asking him a question. Both of you now faced each other and had begun telling stories of your childhood, stories of when you were an adolescent, work stories, almost anything you guys could think of. Snowballed the stories off of one another.

You could see small glimpses of him from the moonlight outside, feel his calm breathing, his chest when he snorted, laughing at something you said.

“What about you?” You ask quietly.

“Did you have any pets when you were younger?”

Silence and a small inhale—

“I did have a fish once,” he exhaled, “Forgot to feed him one day and my dad told me I would never be responsible.” He started laughing.

You loved hearing him laugh. It was boyish, carefree, and loud. It was a little sprinkle to your night. The way he would inhale and laugh, rub his eyes or chest, like he thoroughly enjoyed the feeling that bubbled from his stomach.

“Isn’t that humorous? Responsibility based on a fish.” He was rubbing his face now.

You laughed, followed by a question, “How old were you?”

“I was about 8 or 9 years old, it was around the time I had my first crush.”

You adjusted yourself closer to him. “A crush?!” You squealed.

“Yes, at school. Primary crush.” He said nonchalantly.

“Well tell me about your crush.” 

He adjusted himself again in bed and had positioned his other arm on your thigh rubbing up and down.

“Well…” he began, “It was just a first crush, if I was timid now, I was fearful back then.”

You nodded and hummed a little for him to continue.

“I remember that day, I forgot to feed the fish because it was Valentine’s Day, and we had small gifts to give each other.. I was terrified to give anyone anything.”

“Why were you scared?”

“I don’t think I ever told you, but my classmates were very mean to me.”

You tried to picture him as a small child. His blonde/auburn hair falling to his eyebrows, his big blue eyes, he was probably tall and had chubby cheeks. Who could ever be mean to him?

“Why were they mean to you?”

He exhaled and then continued, “I guess I was too tall, I spoke too softly, cried too much in Kindergarten and that never left me.”

You had started to rub his ears now, your hand falling to his collar.

“Kids are so mean sometimes, they used to bully me for turning red whenever I got an answer wrong.”

“You still blush to this day.” He answered with a hint of smile 

“Some things just don’t go away,” you responded softly, “Some things you just learn to carry with you and eventually it goes away.”

He was quiet for a minute, then continued,

“Some things, but I try to remember they were just kids.”

You looked up at him. You can feel his gaze on you. 

You respond gently, “Have you not forgiven those kids?”

He shifts himself, he now knows the spotlight is on him.

“Shatz,” he begins. “Of course I have, they were kids they had no idea.”

He inhales again, “I’m kind of happy it happened to me, it gave me a boost to then join the military and try to face this anxiety.”

You smiled. Of course only he would say something like that. When he gets injured out on the field he always says “it's a good thing it happened to him and not one of his smaller teammates.” König was selfless that way. He could take any pain, any taunt, any malicious threat towards him as long as his company present didn’t.

“How many kids do you want?” You stopped yourself. If the Earth could open up and swallow you whole, it would feel better than what came out of your mouth.

“Kids?” he says it like it’s a question he hadn’t thought about.

“I’m sorry.” you say, “It’s the word vomit again.”

He laughs again. “Such weird phrases you come up with.”

He clears his throat again. “I think I would want 4. They could come in pairs and protect one another.”

Twins? You have to think about it. Pairs. You know he had an older sibling and he was the youngest. Maybe he had wished for two younger siblings to protect. 

“Whatever you want honestly.” He’s running his hands through your hair now, slowly inching his hands down your neck, swiping his thumb across your collarbone.

You melt. There goes König and his selflessness again. He tells you what he wants but puts your needs first.

You laugh again, “When it gets to that part we’ll make that decision together.”

Sleep crawls back in your eyelids, you can feel yourself tuning out, but you want one more story.

“König?” 

“Yes?”

“Tell me about them. The kids.”

You slowly drift off as König tells you about them.

[pretty-circa006]

Unhealthy Attachments pt.1

Coach! Negan x Student! F! Reader

summary Negan, your gym coach, takes pity on you after seeing the way your peers treat you. tags mentions of bullying/ mild bullying, second person pov (sorry lol this is old pls forgive me) note this is an old WIP that i'm choosing to post because i haven't had time to write anything new (I WILL EVENTUALLY, I PROMISE, BUT COLLEGE IS DRAINING MY FREE TIME). this is part one of a multi-part series, maybe it'll even evolve into a longfic, who knows. btw you guys will have to pry coach negan x student reader fics from my cold dead hands bc i loooove writing these.

wc 1.3k

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ 

You stood lined up with the other students in your PE class, waiting to be chosen by the team captains for this class' soccer game. It didn't even phase you how every other student was picked before you, leaving you the last one standing until one unlucky captain had to pick you. That's just how things went, you were always the odd one out. Even now, everyone wore the usual school issued PE uniform of a t-shirt and shorts, while you had on the sweater and sweatpants version- in ninety degree weather. You were just honoring your father's, the town's local pastor, principles of modesty. Being the pastor's daughter felt isolating. Nobody invited you to things or wanted to be friends with you for fear that the indecencies of their typical teenage behavior would get back to their parents by way of the pastor; and of course he'd get that information from none other than you, his daughter. You never would, though. In middle school, you learned the hard way to not be such a narc, but by then it was too late and nobody trusted you or even wanted to be near you. 

 "Over here!" you shouted to your teammates, wanting them to pass you the ball. You had a perfect shot to the other team's goal. Like always, they ignored you, but it didn't matter because they scored anyway. You didn't give up on trying to be a team player, though. The gym coach, Negan, was watching the game closely and you wanted him to see that you cared and tried to put effort into his class. Maybe it was because he was the only person who ever paid you any attention, but the fear of letting the handsome man down weighed heavily on you. 

"Guys, I'm open!" you yelled. Your desperation to be a part of things was becoming so pathetic that Negan had to direct his focus elsewhere. Maybe it was by mistake, but the ball came rolling your way. Hope blossomed within you. It sounded silly, but you hoped that even something as little as you scoring a goal would make your class like you again. You kicked the ball, sending it flying to the opposing team's goal. It would have made it in if someone didn't intercept- someone from your own team, you notice- and kick it directly at you. You didn't have time to dodge it because it had already smacked you square in the face, knocking you over. You clutched your nose as you writhed on the floor in pain, salt being rubbed even further into your wound by the snickers of your classmates. 

 Negan blew his whistle and called a foul. He profanely scolded the students about their bad sportsmanship and lectured  them on treating their teammates fairly. He helped you up off the floor and led you to his office with an arm wrapped around your shoulder. You sat in one of the chairs with your nose plugged up with tissues per Negan's orders after it started bleeding. It didn't seem broken, so he didn't deem your injury bad enough to send you to the nurse. 

"You can go back now," he told you once fresh blood stopped flowing from your nose between tissue changes. 

"Do I have to?" you asked with teary eyes. You were tired of all the bullying and just ready to graduate already. Your senior year was almost over and you were legally an adult, so why did you still have to put up with everyone else's childish behavior.

"You're all healed up. Don't see why you needa be in here any longer." It was obvious that he wanted you out of his office, probably feeling the same way your classmates felt about you. It shouldn't have surprised you, yet it stabbed you in the heart.  Your chin and lips quivered as you blinked back the tears burning in your eyes. 

"C-can I just stay in here?" you cringed at the way your voice cracked. He rolled his eyes and sighed. 

"Just because your sucky ass team is losing doesn't mean you can hide out here and skip class." 

"That's not why!" you pleaded. 

"Then why?" he asked. 

"Everybody hates me!" You couldn't keep it together after finally saying it out loud. You sobbed like a baby, tears streaming down your face and snot dripping from your nose. You were ugly crying but you didn't even care, it wasn't like you had anyone else's respect to lose. Negan got up and closed the door in an attempt to save you some dignity. Your breathing became short and rapid as your bawling made it difficult to take in oxygen. 

"Teenagers are so goddamn hormonal and dramatic. Nobody hates you, kid," he said disinterested. 

"E-even you d-d-do!" you choked out before going back to wailing. He felt bad for you. He saw the way others treated you and it made him feel worse seeing you long for the acceptance of people who rejected you and took pleasure in your pain. But that's high school for you.

"What makes you think I hate you?" he asked, genuinely curious. He didn't hate you, not even close. He just couldn't stand seeing you walking around like a kicked puppy-dog, it was pitiful. You tried to explain your reasoning, but everything that came out of your mouth was an incoherent blubbering, stuttering, and hyperventilating. He pulled you up from the chair and cradled you in his chest, just letting you sob into his sweater. He hushed you and rubbed your back in soothing circles. It was the best he could do, he knew his words sure as hell couldn't offer the comfort he wanted to give you. Your sobbing eventually calmed into small hiccups and occasional sniffles. 

"Why does everyone hate me?" you whispered. He wanted to tell you that they didn't and that's just how high schoolers are, but he didn't want to lie to you. 

"You're almost outta this goddamn shit hole, kid. Jus' keep your head held up high and finish the year off strong." He clapped a strong hand on your shoulder for added reassurance. You gave him a small smile before trudging out of his classroom and to the locker room now that the class was over.

...  

 Negan comforting you in his office that day made you feel like he was a safe space. He seemed to be the only person who cared, or bothered to do anything about how others treated you, even if it was just the bare minimum, you felt it was better than nothing. 

"Coach," you muttered shyly, standing outside his open office door in the gym. He glanced up at you from whatever work he was doing and immediately sighed. It was a miracle to him that you were oblivious as to why people bullied you. Here you were, dressed so matronly in a long floral skirt that resembled an old woman’s wallpaper and an awful knitted sweater. He knew you were a pastor’s daughter, but did you really need to dress the part. 

“What do you need, kid?” He asked, focusing on his work again. “Can I eat lunch in here?” 

“Why? The bathroom crowded or somethin’?” He joked. When you nodded your head yes, he immediately felt guilty. He motioned with his hand for you to sit in one of the chairs before his desk. You happily took a seat before offering him half of your sandwich. 

“It’s turkey,” you said when he looked at you strangely. He accepted the half and ate it while he worked and you sat in silence enjoying the change of scenery. 

“You don’t actually eat lunch in the bathroom, do you?” He asked. 

“There’s nowhere else for me to sit,” you admitted shamefully. 

“That is  fuckin’ disgusting!” You shrugged your shoulders and went back to your sandwich, embarrassed to let Negan see how pathetic your life really was. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. 

“Look, if you have nowhere else to sit, you can eat lunch in here.” You visibly perked up, a your face splitting into a joyous smile. 

“Really?” 

“Don’t make me fuckin’ regret it.”

next part ▶︎

[marinettesaltprompts]

Prompt by @kawaiichibiart

I wanted to expand on one of my first prompts I shared, which was the class/school transfer but instead of Marinette it's Adrien. Marinette Salt, implied Akuma class salt (implied because I feel like you could leave it out and the story will still work). Deceptive Gabriel Sugar (you think he's being nice but it's all part of his plans to get the miraculous).

--------

After being told he knew about Lila the whole time, the Akuma class turns on Adrien. It starts with ignoring him and not inviting him to things. The only reason he shows up for band practice is because of Luka.

It then evolves into badmouthing him and some of his old classmates even go as far as bullying him.

It gets to be too much for him that he starts ditching and eventually, in that extremely rare "good dad" moment, Gabriel pulls him out of school.

The two sit down and talk about what happened to let things get to this point, and Adrien tells him what he knows. Lila lying, how he thought it was just for attention, the highroad, how Marinette told their classmates he knew Lila was lying but didn't tell them anything else, like how Lila was threatening her, something he kinda figured out on his own when she got Marinette expelled, or well, he assumed Lila hurt Marinette someway...she made it seem like he was okay with Lila lying when he wasn't. He just...didn't know how to stop her or how to get people to listen without any proper evidence.

And Marinette just, threw him under the bus. He thought she was his friend. That he and his classmates were friends. Maybe, maybe Gabriel was right. He never should have gone to school.

Time for extremely rare "good dad" Gabe to strike again: in a two birds one stone moment, Gabriel suggests Adrien lives with his aunt and cousin in London. They can find a good school for him to attend if he still wants to attend one in person. It'll also keep him safe from Akumas, he still thinks about Gorizilla and how he could have lost him (and also this way he didn't have to worry about Adrien potentially being the one he has to akumatize. Once he wins, Adrien will be able to return home to his mother).

Adrien agrees and moves in with Amelie and Felix. And because they honestly feel like it, the boys literally become twins. Felix and Adrien Graham de Vanily both attend a private school where they can focus on their future careers.

We skip a bit forward in time and DuPont is now in London on a field trip. They're getting a tour of one of their biggest private schools. They're able to see students working on their schedules, each one differing from one another due to the difference of career paths. And once they enter the labs, they see Adrien and Felix.

The twins are working on experiments together when the DuPont students arrive. Some of them try to talk to Adrien, but Felix blocks them, speaking over them or shushing them. As part of their trip, they get to attend the school for a few days. During this time, they try to reconnect with Adrien.

But either their schedules don't align, Felix gets in the way, or Adrien remains civil but isn't interested in mending bridges.

Some of them understand. They hurt him. He moved on. They messed up and lost a friend.

Others don't. He had to be exaggerating his hurt feelings. He was always so forgiving with Chloe. What made them different??

The worst is Marinette. Not only is Adrien ignoring her, he literally told her to not speak to him. To stay away from him. She didn't do anything wrong. She didn't mean any harm when she said he knew about Lila. Why can't he forgive her?!

"I'm trying to be nice!! I've forgiven you for that bullshit advice and you decide you're too good for me?!"

"Ha, "too good." Sure."

"I'm not talking to you. Adrien-"

"Doesn't want to talk to you. But I, on the other hand, have some words for you. Stay away from us. Go back to your petty filled life in Paris. You say you "forgive" my cousin for the advice he have you. Advice you willingly took, no?"

"Well, I-"

"Or am I missing the part where my favorite cousin made you take that advice. Advice can be given but it doesn't have to be taken. You taking the highroad, was ultimately, you're choice. You made that decision and got someone else hurt. But it doesn't matter, does it?"

"Felix-"

"It doesn't matter so long as you end up on top. As long as you aren't the one being pushed around and ignored and hurt. As long as you win."

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!!"

"We both know it is. If it wasn't, you never would have let things get as far as they did. You would have told the entire truth. Not held things back. You would have accepted responsibility for your part in what your class did to my cousin, no, to my brother."

"I already said I was sorry!! What more do you want?!"

"I want you to leave."

"Adrien-"

"Leave, Marinette. I have nothing to say to you."

"You heard him. Get. Out."

some additional points I couldn't work into the prompt:

• Adrien is still Chat Noir, but he's no longer Paris's hero. Chat Noir is active in London. Costume and name change are optional.

• Of his old friends, he only speaks to Luka, Kagami, and occasionally Chloe.

• Felix and Adrien played "rock, paper, scissors" to determine who's birthday they would use. Winner also got to be the eldest twin. Felix won.

• Felix switches between referring to Adrien as his cousin and his brother.

• This isn't a requirement but if someone can manage to work it in, get Felix his miraculous (the peacock) early. I love the cat bird duo.

• Marinette still has a crush on Adrien and expected him to beg for her forgiveness, which she would give him after he groveled for a while, so she's surprised when he cuts contact with her entirely.

• Possible rare "good dad" Gabriel moment four: he tells the public a shortened version as to why Adrien left, which is his son was being bullied and he worried that that would cause him to be akumatized. Not wanting to risk it, he sent him to live with his aunt and cousin in London. And once everything was over, he could return, hopefully happier and safer. Which, sadly, means Adrien won't be modeling for Gabriel for the foreseeable future. But that's a chance he's willing to take if it means his son isn't hurt or targeted.

It's his way of showing the public he's just a concerned father who had the means to send his child somewhere he could be safe. It's something other parents had considered and some also decide to go through with the idea.

• Of his past classmates, the ones Adrien is a bit more welcoming to are: Juleka, Sabrina and Nathaniel. This is mostly because they just stayed on the sidelines the entire time. Something they regret but acknowledge can't be taken back. So, while the bridge hasn't been mended, the distance isn't big enough that they have to worry about falling and drowning.

[swimmingismywholelife]

Miracles in December

Summary: You haven't seen your best friend since his injury. And only a Christmas Miracle will bring him back to you.

Warning: ANGST but fluffy ending, platonic best friend!Gavi, mentions of Gavi's injuries, light arguments, insecurity, guilt 

WC: 5K

A/N: 🎶On the third day of Ficmas, my writer gave to me a fic withbest friend!Gavi🎶 If you're new here, I bleed Blaugrana. I've been a Barca fan since I was a kid and that club means everything to me. That being said, Gavi is one of my favorite players and my son and I'm absolutely devastated that he's had such a major injury. I don’t typically write for Gavi (he's a literal baby to me), but I wanted to write something to show my support for him. So this is dedicated to him. Estamos contigo. Mucha fuerza Gavi y te queremos ❤️💙

Link for the Song: Miracles in December

"Oh, I didn't know how thankful your love was, oh

I thought it would stop once it ended, oh

But every day, I'm fixing

Myself to want you

I think my love will endlessly continue."

~~~

You knocked on the door, your duffle bag over one shoulder, trying to shake off the snow.

"Hola, Aurora," you said to the person who opened the door.

"Hola, Y/N, come in! You must be freezing right now!" Aurora answered, gesturing for you to come in quickly. "I'll make you some tea. Sit, make yourself at home!"

You set your stuff in a small space by the doorway, one that commonly had your stuff whenever you came to visit the Paez Gavira household. It wasn't surprising to see you come over as you'd been doing it since you were a kid. You and Pablo had met years ago on your first day at La Masía. You'd just moved from America back to Spain so you could play for the academy. You were an awfully shy kid, especially after your American classmates bullied you for the way you spoke Spanish.

You remembered your first day at La Masía very clearly. You had stood outside the building too afraid to go in. Pablo noticed you on his way in and despite being shy himself, approached you, asking if you were lost.

"Hola, soy Pablo. Are you here to play?" Pablo asked.

"Sí," you said softly. "Soy Y/N. Today is my first day here. I'm just a little scared."

"¿Por qué? You're gonna love it here! This is the best academy in the world!" he said excitedly.

"But what if they don't like me? What if I don't make any friends?" you asked worriedly.

"You don't have to worry about because I'll be your friend! And I'll introduce you to everyone else!"

"Yo no sé," you mumbled to yourself, ready to call your mom to pick you up. "I think I'm just gonna call my mom to pick me up and go home."

"How's this? I'll be your first friend, and because we're friends, we'll walk in together! You belong here, I promise. And so long as I'm your friend, I'll make sure you know that this is where you belong and what you're meant to do! What do you say, Pequeña?"

"Pequeña?! I'm not that small!" you protested, feeling slightly offended that he was coming for your height like that.

"Yes you are but that's okay! See, you have a nickname now from a friend!" Pablo said. "Everything is gonna be okay. You're here for a reason. This is your home and even if you're nervous now, I'll help you see that," he continued, calming your nerves and reassuring you.

Pablo held out his hand for you to take. "Just take my hand and we'll reach our dreams of playing for the first team together."

You hesitated, but took a deep breath. You knew you had to take the chance to achieve the dream of playing for your favorite club. So you took Pablo's hand in yours. You smiled at each other before walking through the doors together, ready to take on the world.

Since that day, the two of you were inseparable. And he was right. The moment you stepped through those doors, everything felt right. Pablo introduced you to his friends, making you feel more at ease with everyone. You eventually made your own friends within the academy. And despite your growth spurt, you still ended up tiny, causing Pablo's unfortunate nickname for you to stick. Even after Pablo started playing with the first team, he always did his best to support you in your games. He was your best friend and you were his.

Which was why you were just as distraught as he was when his injury happened. You were in the crowd proudly wearing his jersey and cried just as hard as he did as he was subbed off, knowing the injury was serious. You cried even more when you found out it was a torn ACL and meniscus, knowing he was out for the rest of the season and the Euros. Pablo more than anything loved to play, and you knew he would be devastated.

On top of that misfortune, Pablo hadn't spoken to you since that day. You'd traveled with him back to Barcelona and to the medics after that game, where you held him as he cried. But after that, he'd gone radio silent. At first, you thought he just needed time and space to process everything going on. But you soon realized that Pablo was still talking to the others after catching up with Fermín and some of the others one day.

"Yeah, I think Pablo just needs space," you said, drinking the coffee you'd ordered. "He isn't really speaking to anyone right now."

"What are you talking about?" Fermín asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "Pablito and I talked yesterday. He's nervous for his upcoming surgery, but I reassured him that everything was gonna be fine."

"Wait, he talked to you?" you asked, now being the one confused.

"Pequeña, he's been regularly talking to all of us because he needs the support," Cristo explained.

"Then why hasn't he talked to me?" you asked again, feeling extremely hurt. "I thought we were best friends. I haven't seen him since he came back to Barcelona. And he hasn't answered any of my calls or texts. I've been to his house every day since and he's never even so much opened his door."

"I'm sorry, Pequeña," Fermín said, trying to smile.

But the damage was already done.

"How is he, Rora?" you asked gently as his sister gently handed you a mug.

"The same," she sighed. "His surgery went well so he's just recovering now. I think Christmas being around the corner is making him even more upset though. You know, holiday cheer and all," Aurora replied, sitting down next to you. "He's still crying every night even if he thinks we can't hear him. He hasn't talked to you then I assume?"

You shook your head. "He hasn't said anything to me since that day. The only way I know how he's doing is by asking you or some of the others. I just wish I could help him you know? It's like I'm here, but he won't even acknowledge that we know each other, much less being best friends."

"You've been here every day since," Aurora said gently. "Even if Pablo can't see it now, I know he's appreciative of that." She grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers together. "And we appreciate that too. My brother is annoyingly stubborn and yet you've been here every day, doing your best to help him and the rest of us. You're doing more than enough, hermanita. He's lucky to have someone like you in his life."

You squeezed Aurora's hand laying your head on her shoulder.

"I would take the injury if it meant he could play too," you said honestly.

"Don't ever say that," Aurora said sternly. "If Pablo were down here, he would've hit you for saying that. You love playing just as much as he does. And you deserve to play too."

"I made the first team, Rora," you whispered. "And they've been strongly suggesting they're gonna sub me in at some point. They're finally gonna let me play. It's everything I've been working towards."

Aurora quickly sat up and hugged you tight. "Y/N! That's amazing! Estoy tan orgullosa de ti! Just in time for Christmas too! This is like the best present ever!"

"Thank you," you groaned out, "but you're squeezing me a little too tight there."

She only squeezed you tighter in response. "My parents are gonna be so excited! And Pablo-" She cut herself off. "Pablo will be proud of you too," she said softly. "I know he will."

"Is he?" you scoffed. "He hasn't spoken to me once since the injury. He's visited the first team, he regularly talks to Fermín and Cristo and all the others. But he won't even look in my direction."

"He'll come around," Aurora answered. "I think he's afraid of how you'll treat him. He's stupid for that but he'll come around eventually I promise."

"You know," you started, "everyone kept saying today that this was the best present I could've gotten. To play for the first team. And don't get me wrong, I'm so excited for this. It's all I've ever wanted since I came to Spain. And in time for Christmas too? It should be make my holidays even more exciting." You sighed, resting your head on Aurora's shoulder. "But honestly, I just want Pablo to come back to me. That's really all I ask for. But at this rate, I think even a Christmas miracle won't bring him back."

You stayed for a little while longer before Aurora kicked you out (mostly because she didn't want you walking home in the dark and the snow was starting to pick up). But before you left, you walked up to Pablo's room and knocked on the door like you'd done every time you came to visit. You knew he was awake and heard you, but there was still no effort to come see or talk to you. You sighed, taking a seat with your back against the door.

"Hola Pablito," you said. "I hope you're doing okay over there. I'm glad your surgery went well. Rora tells me everything's been great. I'm sure you probably know better than I do, but the team is struggling. That's okay though, they're managing as best they can."

You turned around to lean your forehead against the door.

"I, uh, I got called up for the first team for tomorrow's game. The others think there's a good chance Jonatán might put me in too," you continued softly, a smile appearing on your face. "I'm a little late compared to you, but we finally did it, Pablo. We're both finally on the first team, just like we promised when we were kids."

A frown appeared on your face when you didn't hear anything other than the noises of his TV.

"I know we haven't spoken in a while, but I hope you can at least watch the game on TV. Maybe I'll even score on my debut," you chuckled. Still no response from him. "Well, I have to go before your sister starts yelling at me. The snow is getting pretty bad anyway. I'll be back tomorrow after the game and I'll tell you all about it."

You got up, dusting yourself off. You rested your forehead against the door once more.

"I'm proud of you, you know? I know things are difficult for you, but you're gonna come back and be better than ever. I'll see you tomorrow, Pablo. Te quiero."

Pablo stared up at his bed as the sound of your footsteps faded, his stomach in knots as he was full of guilt. He knew you didn't deserve to be ignored, but he was ashamed. He couldn't bare to face you. You were his closest friend from La Masía and he didn't want you to see him in his condition. You wouldn't have judged him, and he knew that, but he still couldn't bring himself to speak to you. His family and his friends had scolded him many times for it, but Pablo didn't have the courage to apologize. And now hearing that you were finally called up to the first team and he still didn't say anything? He felt even worse.

Pablo heard another knock on his door.

"Hermano, it's just me. Y/N left. Can I come in?" his sister asked.

"Sí," he said, not bothering to sit up.

Aurora walked in and sat on his bed.

"She's upset, you know?" she said softly. "That even after making the first team, you still haven't talked to her."

"Yo sé," He responded.

"You know what she said to me?" Pablo remained quiet. "She said, 'Honestly Rora, I just want Pablo back. I would've said no to playing tomorrow if it meant he'd just talk to me.' And she said she would take the injury if that meant you could play again. Do you know how much that hurts to hear? That she'd rather give up her dream than not have you in her life? That's how much you mean to her. That girl has been here every single day since you got injured and you've said nada to her. You've talked to everyone else except Y/N. Why hermano? I just don't understand."

Pablo still said nothing. He took a deep breath, tears in his eyes.

"Yo sé," he answered. "Yo sé and it's killing me. But I don't want her to see me like this. All mangled and depressed. She should be living her dream, not watching me trying to walk every day."

Aurora sighed before raising her hand, slapping Pablo on his forehead.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?!" he yelled, grabbing the spot in pain.

"For being stupid, Stupid! Y/N has been your best friend since you started at La Masía! She's not judging you for getting injured! You couldn't help that and all she's wanted to do is support you because she knows how devastated you are. She's just as devastated for you!" Aurora said. "I know this has been hard for you, but you don't have to do it all alone, hermano. Just let her in and let her help you."

Aurora got up to leave Pablo with his thoughts. Before she closed the door, she peeked her head in and said, "And please at least watch her game. It's the least you can do after how you've treated her. You and I both know that."

You tossed and turned in your bed that night. With the excitement of finally making the first team and your best friend still ignoring you, sleep almost didn't come at all. Thankfully, you were able to get some rest that you knew you needed, especially if you were trying to prove yourself to your coach and the fans that you deserved some playing time.

Your stomach was in knots as you arrived at the stadium. You did your best to seem calm and collected knowing there were cameras filming the entrance to your very first game with Barça Feminí. But you didn't know what to think or what to feel. You just wanted a good game.

"Are you ready?" Lucy asked you, swinging an arm around your shoulders as you entered the dressing room.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you said nervously, twiddling your fingers.

"Aw, it's gonna be okay, Pequeña!" she said.  "You deserve this. It's been a long time coming honestly."

"Do you think I'll end up playing today?" you asked hopefully.

"There's been a lot of buzz about you online since you're close to the men's team. A lot of positivity mostly so I think people are excited to see you. But between you and me, I think you've got a good shot. You're our secret weapon," Lucy winked. "You're our Christmas miracle this year."

She gave your shoulder one final squeeze before parting, allowing the two of you to get dressed.

"What happens if you score a goal?" Aitana asked you as you tied your shoes. "Do you have a plan for it?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "I have an idea. But that's assuming I get on the field at all today, much less score a goal."

"You will. No doubt in my mind. It would be stupid of them not to, Pequeña."

You were flattered by your teammates' faith in you. Despite knowing the stack of players who were both in the starting XI and on the bench, you were honored to have been chosen as an option to play tonight. But while you were still unsure you'd see any playing time, your teammates were fairly confident in you and your abilities.

You dusted yourself off before you checked your phone, giggling when you saw the good luck messages from your friends and family. You sighed in disappointment still not seeing anything from Pablo, but you tried not to let it get to you. You threw your thoughts aside to focus on the game ahead of you, hoping you'd get subbed in at some point.

The game surprised the whole team. It was a lot trickier than any of you expected, your team struggling to convert any chances into goals. The score was tied at 1-1. The other team's defense was tough to break, and it was thanks to yours being just as good that they also weren't able to score as much. On top of that, the snow was starting to fall, making it harder to see and turning the air colder. You were all nervous that the win streak of the team would break today.

You were biting your nails as Alexia's shot was blocked once again, making you and the rest of the bench groan with disappointment. There were only a few minutes left on the clock. The team needed something and they needed something quickly.

"Y/N! Start warming up. I'm putting you in," Jonatán said. "Congratulations, Pequeña."

You looked at your coach before looking behind you. You repeated this several times before pointing at yourself in disbelief.

"Me? You're talking to me?" you squeaked.

"Sí, Pequeña, I'm talking to you. We need to change up the game plan and you're gonna be the magic we need to win this game. So I need you ready to go. Start running, Kid," he said before going back to coaching.

You let out a noise putting your hands over your mouth, still in shock over his decision. Your teammates all smiled brightly at you and cheered lightly, knowing that you were finally fulfilling your childhood dream. You stood to follow your coaches directions, but not before whispering something to Claudia, discreetly handing her a jersey. She nodded, smiling brightly and patting you on the head to send you on your way.

Your mind shifted to focus on what your game would be, but you couldn't help but think about Pablo. You shook off the thoughts, knowing that your friendship with him wasn't your priority right now. All you could do was hope that he was watching your game at home and cared enough to support you.

Your palms were sweating as you waited for Alexia to come off the field, your jersey number flashing on the board. This was the moment you'd been preparing your whole life for. And while you were nervous, you were more than ready for this.

Alexia hugged you and patted you on the head. "Go kill it, Pequeña," she whispered to you.

The moment you stepped onto the field officially replacing your captain, an indescribable feeling came over you. You could hear your team and the crowd cheering for you, all excited to see what you could do. Even though you felt the pressure on your shoulders, it didn't compare to what that atmosphere was like. There weren't any words in any language that could perfectly capture how you felt, but you knew that this was where you belonged. And you knew that you would do anything to feel this emotion for the rest of your life.

Lucy threw the ball in, initiating the start of play once again, snapping you out of your thoughts and putting you back into game mode. The ball was passed around amongst your teammates as you tried to figure out your options. You peaked over your shoulder, noticing a space that you knew you could use to your advantage. But you were also aware you were being marked by a defender, so your run would have to be quick and accurate. You made eye contact with Aitana and locked your eyes with hers subtly telling her that you had a plan. She launched the ball in your direction and you started sprinting as hard as you could, trying to keep the defender off your tail. The ball made contact with your foot as you kept running, dribbling the ball close to you. The other defenders had come quicker than you were expecting, but you knew you just had to keep going. You felt them grab your waist but you shrugged them off, pushing yourself to keep going. You scanned your surroundings not seeing a clear path for any of your teammates, but you did spot one right in front of the goal.

Your world stopped for a moment as your mind went back to your first day at La Masía. Pablo's face appeared in your mind as the words, 'Just take my hand and we'll reach our dreams of playing for the first team together', resounded in your ears. This was your dream and it was right in front of you. And you knew that despite your hesitation, you needed to just take a chance to reach that dream, just as you did all those years ago.

And so you kicked the ball towards the goal. The stadium held its breath as you all watched the ball fly past the defenders and slipping right past the goalkeeper's fingertips. You couldn't hear anything but the sound of the ball hitting the back of the net before deafening screams rang out from everyone around you. Your name and face flashed on the screen with a "GOL" next to your face.

Your eyes widened, realizing that not only was that your first touch of the ball in your very first game for the first team, but that you'd just scored your very first goal. Once you snapped back to your senses, you ran over to the side, kissing the badge on your shirt. You jumped into the air and screamed as you felt your teammates jumping onto you in celebration. You high fived everyone and huddled into a group hug, elated at the way you put the team into the lead, a "2-1" now appearing on the screen.

Knowing you didn't have much time for your own personal celebration, you broke off to the side running towards Claudia, who handed you the jersey you given to her earlier. You presented it to the crowd around you proudly. The camera zoomed in to display the "6 Gavi" on the screens around you. Despite not speaking to him for weeks, you wanted to still show your support for you recovering best friend because without him, you wouldn't even be playing that night. It was thanks to Pablo that you were here living your dreams, and this was your way of thanking him for everything he'd done.

Right before you turned back, you looked at the crowd one last time. And there in the stands was the boy himself sitting in the crowd with his cast on next to your families.

"You came," you said mostly to yourself in disbelief, feeling the tears form in your eyes, snow falling all around you.

Pablo nodded and cheered. Words didn't need to be spoken to know he was proud of you.

You laughed as you returned the smile. You knew things still had to be mended between the two of you, but you knew this was a step in the right direction. You presented the jersey a final time, hitting the badge on your own before tossing it back to Claudia and getting back into the game.

The snow fell around you as the final whistle was blown, your last minute goal being what your team needed to win the game. The bench ran to you and jumped on top, causing all of you to fall to the ground as you screamed in delight. The crowd cheered just as loudly for you, excited for the win and to see what more you could do for the team.

"You did it, Pequeña, you did it!" "You're our Christmas miracle!" "You deserve this!" "We're so proud of you!" were the words spoken by your teammates. This really was a dream come true.

You ended up earning the Player of the Match trophy for your heroics. You raised it to the fans as you walked over to the side for the interview as a means to thank them for the support.

"Wow! Y/N your first game and your first goal for Barça Feminí. How does it feel?" the interviewer asked you.

"Um, I can't really explain the feeling to be honest. Overwhelming but in a really good way," you answered honestly. "I've been dreaming of being in this position since I came to Barcelona when I was a kid, and I don't think it's fully hit me yet that I'm here."

"Well, there's been talks about you in La Masía and how you were going to be the secret weapon the team needed this season. Lots of people were anticipating your debut and I'm sure they're pleased to see what you've added to this team. They're already calling you 'the Christmas Miracle' online. Do you have any comments on that?" another interviewer asked.

"I'm really honored to have that sort of title," you laughed. "My teammates have been nothing but supportive and had complete faith that I would play today. And I couldn't be more grateful for all of them."

"And of course we have to talk about that goal celebration!" the interviewer said. "Culers loved the dedication to the beloved Gavi who is unfortunately injured and out for the season. Was there any particular reason for that?"

You grinned. "Gavi is the whole reason why I'm even here. On my first day at La Masía, I was so nervous I almost turned around and went home and Gavi was the one who convinced me that I belonged and helped me walk in. It's really all thanks to him that I worked up the courage and the passion to play."

"You must've been gutted to see him get injured," the other interviewer commented.

"I was probably just as devastated as he was," you replied. "I hate seeing any player injured, but to watch one of my best friends suffer was even worse. And since I'm here because of him, I wanted to honor him and his love for the sport and for the club. To let him know he might be off the field physically, but his spirit and his heart are still present with us. And to thank him for everything he's done for me."

"Gavi was in the crowd today and I'm sure he appreciated it. Well, congratulations Y/N on your first game and your first goal for the team. We hope to see more from you this season!" the interviewer said.

"Thank you so much!" you answered excitedly, giving each of them a small handshake before heading to the tunnels.

You spotted a figure in crutches waiting on the side for you leaning against the wall for support. You smiled and walked towards him.

"Hey stranger," you said softly, making him jump.

"Hey," Pablo answered, looking at his feet before averting his gaze to look at you.

"I can't deny I'm surprised to see you here, Pablito," you said, nudging him lightly.

"Aurora talked some sense into me. And I realized that wallowing in my own self pity wasn't more important than watching your first call up," he replied.

"What if I didn't end up playing?" you asked.

"First of all, you were always gonna play. There's no way you wouldn't. Honestly, I'm surprised it took this long for them to call you up when it should've happened years ago," Pablo said, shaking his head. "Second of all, it wouldn't have mattered to me anyway. Regardless of your playing time, I wanted to support you and your team just like you've been supporting me all this time. Even when I haven't deserved it."

He glanced at his wrapped leg. "I've been a jerk and a coward and I'm sorry for ignoring you. I just didn't want you to see me in this state because I was ashamed and embarrassed of this injury."

You rolled your eyes and flicked his forehead.

"Ow! What the hell?! You and Aurora have been hanging out too much," he grumbled.

"Yeah, because you're an idiot! I've known you since we were gross and snotty kids!" you exclaimed. "We've been best friends for literal years. If you haven't gotten rid of me yet, then that means I'm sticking around like those boogers you used to stick on the walls."

"You said you would stop bringing that up!" he whined, making you giggle.

"I'm serious though. Don't feel ashamed. Injuries happen and it's not your fault. All you can do now is lean on your loved ones for support and work to get better so you can come back stronger and better than ever," you said.

"But what if I don't?" he asked. "What if this injury ruined everything?"

"You're too stubborn for this to ruin your life," you said bluntly. "Does this sport mean everything to you? Will you give your all for your team once you come back?" Pablo nodded. "Then don't let this get you down. You just have to be patient and let the healing process do its thing. And once you get past that, you're gonna find yourself being the captain of Barcelona leading your team to greatness."

"Thank you," Pablo said seriously. "For everything. Te quiero, Pequeña."

"Te quiero también, Pablito," you said. "Estoy contigo por siempre."

You leaned over to give him a hug, but he stepped back.

"You can hug me later. You stink dude. And I'm cold. So hurry up and change. My parents are already with yours and they're making your favorite in celebration," Pablo whined. You just laughed, making your way into the dressing room.

Your first game had been something straight out of a fairytale. Your first call, first game, first touch, and first goal. It was everything you could've dreamed about when you stepped foot in Barcelona for the first time.

But while all of that was great, you got something even more important that night. And your Christmas miracle was in the form of the boy waiting for you in the tunnel.

Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @chilwellspulisic @neverinadream @notsoattractivearenti @pulisicsgirl @lizzypotter14 @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @shadowscorch

[breaddwoo]

-Warm Light-

pairing: xavier x reader

word count: 2.73k

warnings: none :)

desc: when xavier sees your ability to glow, he gets a lil crush and y'all have a sleepover :))

a/n: my friends bully me because all i did today was write this 👊

had you been a normal child, life would have gone much differently. your emotions wouldn't get outed by your very skin; every boy you've liked wouldn't instantly understand through your illumination.

no matter how much you tried to control it, your flesh seemed to have its own conscience that made its own decisions.

your skin glowed. bright, radiant lemon or sometimes just a comforting, somewhat dim gold. this curse had embarrassed you more times than one should be mortified in a life time. a malediction passed on to you by a higher being with unknown intent.

so, there came a time when the bullying was too much. it was never violent, there were no harsh words spat in your direction. you tried your best to be nice to every classmate.

it was the isolation. a metaphorical twin of suffocation; you had no friends and never once held a romantic partner. no one wanted to get close to you, either wierded out by the power or didn't want to be associated with it.

in the end, nevermore was inevitable. no one paid any attention to you in the beginning of your enrollment; all eyes were on you, however, once you gleamed like a beacon during a school assembly after someone's hand brushed your ass.

that's how you met enid and ajax, and in turn, wednesday. you could tell she was perplexed by your ability just as the other two were, but she never gave into her curiosity. they made you happy.

you had some control when it came to your ability; you could "turn it on", as enid would say, whenever you wanted. you just couldn't flick the light switch off when you became a human light bulb.

but night time in dark hallways was the perfect place to practice, especially the halls of nevermore where moonlight was scarce and pitch blackness was abundant.

with a snap of your fingers, you'd illuminate the narrow corridor; another snap, and sometimes the light would go away. most of the time it just stayed on until you were randomly plunged into darkness.

as you continued this, you came upon a dead end. there was a large, looming figure in front of you but it was impossible decipher what it was.

with a snap, you tried to get a better look. nothing.

you snapped again and the blackness continued. by now your eyes had adjusted enough to understand that the figure was an antique statue; however, curiosity got the best of you and you needed the statue in full visibility.

to anyone wandering these shadowy halls at night, these random clicks may have made for a good horror story at a slumber party.

in frustration, you snapped your fingers a few times in attempt to get your skin to brighten when you heard a loud click.

then, low rumbling within the walls in front of you.

your body took this as the perfect opportunity to become a floodlight, revealing that the statue was now gone and a large set of stone stairs spiraled into mystery.

even this school is a goddamn oddity.

you sighed, knowing that this meant you'd have to go down the stairs or this scene would haunt you to your grave.

the first step you took was hesitant. no booby traps, no arrows flying into your chest. is this safe??

the decision had been made to enter, so with more confidence, you descended the twisting staircase.

you feared that your light would dissipate, but continued on until you saw a circular library holding old, dusty books.

"... hello?" you whispered. there was no one you expected to answer, but you were weary of the volume of your voice anyway.

"hello?" you asked again, this time with a bit of wavery confidence.

then, someone stepped out of a hallway to your left. someone tall, wearing a costume-like robe.

"jesus, can you please put that flash light away? you're blinding me," the figure complained, covering their eyes with a comically large sleeve.

you tried to dim the lights a bit. surprisingly, your skin successfully emitted a soft golden glow instead of the headlight it was before.

when you did this, you could make out that the figure was, in fact, a boy.

a very cute one.

"was- was that your body that scorched my eyes?" the boy asked with intrigue before backtracking, "wait, sorry, wrong question right now. who are you and how did you get in here?"

you laughed a strained laugh, wringing the hem of your skirt in your hands, "uhm, yeahhh. i was- i was just practicing my, uh, glowing and happened to somehow make a statue move? i don't know, i'm probably as confused as you are."

you were nervous, afraid that you had happened upon a cult that would cut you up for finding their secret lair.

the boy studied you for a second, then stepped forward. you could see the details of his face a little better when he did this. man he's cute.

the room may have been dark, but your light cast shadows on his face in all the right places. he was taller than you, and he may not have had a conventionally attractive face, but you were nevertheless starstruck.

he gave an awkward, but adorable, smile.

"this is the hideout for a secret society called the nightshades. there's really no point in hiding it since you already know about it, though you can't tell anyone you found this place, " he explained, running a hand through his shoulder length hair.

"oh, okay, then i definitely shouldn't be here. i'll get going."

you hurriedly began for the stairs; a small tug on your sleeve stopped you from going further.

"wait, wait," the boy protested, "can i get your name? just, y'know, for future reference."

you snorted, "what would you need my name for in the future?"

"many things," he grinned.

"also, i wanna see your... light?" he said for lack of a better term.

you dropped down from the step you currently stood on so you were once again on ground level with the boy.

"i'll show it to you in exchange for your name."

he crossed his arms, "but i asked you first."

"maybe, but im the bargainer here. deal or no deal, " you stated, stifling a laugh.

the boy placed his fingers on his chin to feign consideration, saying, "you give a tempting offer."

you raised your brows to ask so, deal or no deal?

he let a grin spread on his face, "fine. xavier thorpe, that's my name. can i see the light now?"

xavier. what a cute name for a cute boy.

you gave an obviously exaggerated sigh and tried to make your skin glow a little brighter. holding out your hand, you let him examine your abnormality that brought you to this school.

xavier's hazel eyes glittered with wonder as he ran his hands over your candlelight skin.

beginning to feel embarrassed, you pulled away with a faint blush painting your cheeks.

"anyway, i- i should go," you mumbled, feeling too bashful to stay there any longer; your skin may glow again as it did with every boy that piqued your interest and you'd had quite enough of that and the reaction the boys would give.

you could tell that xavier had more to ask, but he kept his queries to himself and allowed you to ascend the stairs.

"oh," you began, halfway up the stairs, "and my name is (y/n)."

when xavier heard the wall at the entrance of the stairs close above him, he wandered to the step you were standing on when he touched your warm, illuminated hand.

"(y/n).. " he whispered to himself, a small, innocent smile painted on his face that was hidden by the darkness.

> > >

after that day, you noticed xavier in the halls much more often. he was even in your third period class. how have i never noticed?

xavier would catch up to you on your way to different classes, talking about whatever came to mind. the company was new and unusual, but not unwelcome.

after a little while, you were able to call him your friend. your best friend, even.

it was friday, the weather outside was abysmal as rain streaks on the windows beside you cast odd shadows on your desk.

it was a quiet study hour instead of the usually rowdy third period debate class.

there was a small tap on your shoulder, so you turned around to feel the brunt of a small folded paper hit your forehead.

"ow..." you whispered to yourself, frowning at the offender. xavier presses his lips together to keep himself from laughing and pointed at the floor.

looking down, you found the little weapon sitting on your book bag.

you gave him a really? are we in middle school? look, but picked up and unfolded the tiny note anyway.

inside were crudely written words that said:

hangout at the paint shed tonight?

you couldn't help the smile that stole your expression, giving him a small thumbs up. the little invitation left you giddy; you could already feel your skin beginning to warm with a warning flare.

xavier retaliated with a gracious smile. god, he's so adorable.

now the school day was going to take forever.

> > >

"xavier, what is this?"

the art studio now looked like a girl's room after a slumber party. there was a thin foam mattress in the middle of the wooden floors, decorated with many plush pillows and knitted blankets. snacks covered almost every empty surface that wasn't occupied by art supplies. there were even fairy lights hung above the makeshift bed, giving the room a comfortable and inviting appearance.

xavier looked proudly at his work, "i just thought, since we rarely get to spend more than an hour together, that we could have a little- uh, sleepover."

looking at his embarrassed blush, you burst into a fit of giggles.

"i didn't know we were middle school besties. did you ask your mom?" you jested, covering your mouth to attempt to suppress the laughter.

xavier noticed your skin begin to emit it's usual glow that he adored, but he feigned frustration as he crossed his arms. the blush on his cheeks became a fiercer shade of scarlet.

"sorry, sorry. i know you worked hard on this, thank you," you grinned, wiping a tear caused by your outburst.

"so, what did you want to do first?"

the question left xavier quiet. there was a very specific activity he wanted to do, but he was afraid the very question would reveal his true feelings.

"do you- uh, do you remember the first time me met?" he questioned.

you nodded, "of course. how could i forget the night that i burned my image into your poor pupils."

"well..." he began, "ever since then, i've wanted to paint you. with that glow, it'd give me insane practice at lighting with acrylics." and you're insanely pretty and i want to watch you glow any time i wish.

he didn't add that last part, though.

the request forced the dim luminosity of your skin to radiate a brighter light.

just seeing you like this, xavier melted. ever since the first day he felt your light touch his skin, everything about you occupied every corner of his mind.

each time he walked with you in the hallway, each day you sat together drawing, he felt himself falling for you a little more.

tonight those feelings turned him into a tight envelope of emotion ready to burst, his wax seal already cracking.

you looked down, "okay then."

xavier could tell you were embarrassed but quickly grabbed his paints. tonight he would paint a masterpiece.

> > >

the whole process had been difficult, what with you laughing every time he made his concentration face and him playfully scolding you not to move.

"do you ever sit still?" he asked, almost finished.

"do you ever concentrate without biting the inside of your cheek?" you shot back.

he squinted his eyes, "touché."

you were about to giggle again, but restrained yourself to avoid more reprimanding.

finally, with the acrylic still drying, he was done. "do you want to see it?"

you breathed out, "i don't know. i'm scared."

xavier put a hand on his chest to feign offense, "and why would you be scared?"

"uhm, cuz- because i'll see myself through your eyes."

the room went silent; you could even hear one of the shed's lightbulbs go out.

"what does that mean?" he questioned, putting down his brushes. you shook your head to avoid the topic, dismissing him, "nevermind. forget it, i don't even know what i'm saying."

he pushed on, "no, seriously. do you think i see you in a bad way?"

"no- it's more like i'm afraid you won't see me in the way i most want you to."

xavier knew exactly what that meant. considering the way you brightened the room every time he was in it, he guessed that maybe you felt the same; but here was some (hopefully) solid proof. this was it: the opening he needed.

he lifted from his stool, walking over to you and guiding you to the flimsy bed he had put together.

when you both were laying down, he turned on his side to look and you and you reciprocated.

"(y/n), you- god, how do you not see? i feel like im pretty obvious, even if i don't physically glow every time i see you," xavier began, moving to prop his head on his hand with his elbow using a pillow as support.

"well i'm sorry! if i could control this damn ability i probably wouldn't even be here," you said defensively.

he back tracked, remembering he can be a bit rude at times, "no that's not what i meant, sorry. what i mean to say is that i look at you as if you hang the stars in the sky. when we're together i can't rid myself of a stupid grin that plagues me even after we've parted, and though i enjoy it, it sure makes my cheeks hurt. "

you laughed at the last comment and he felt warmth in his stomach. "well, i literally glow when i see you so i think i win."

"i didn't know this was a contest of affection," he teased, moving a bit closer.

"it's not, but i want a prize anyway."

both if you knew what you were suggesting, xavier just needed to take the initiative to do it.

he leaned over you, your back pressed to the soft foam beneath.

the moment his lips touched yours, a bright white light exploded in the room.

he pulled back, an uncomfortable tingling sensation rising to his face.

"did you just...?"

"oh my goodness," you gasped, reaching for his now sun burnt face.

"i-i'm so sorry! i didn't know i could do that!" you were mortified. you've ruined everything. you burned the first boy you've ever kissed.

then came a chuckle, along with full blown laughter. xavier rested his face in your neck as he continued to laugh.

"i can't believe the first time we kiss i get sun burned! that's so adorable!"

the word adorable wasn't how you would describe it, but you smiled and went along with his positive reaction.

"god, I'm so in love with you, " he blurted out of pure affection.

another snap of light almost caused xavier's eyes to dry out of his head, but you luckily covered his face just in time.

"please xavier, " you stated, your whole body a beacon of light that lit up the room, "no more of that. i'm literally going to cook you alive."

xavier laughed. he was fine with that, as long as you and your warm light were his.

> > >

-extra-

the both of you lay on the bed, sprawled across each other.

"i want to give you a pet name," xavier stated matter-of-factly.

"you can do that if you enjoy a 24/7 sun burn, " you laughed.

"hmm... " he stared at the ceiling, deep in thought, "i've got it!"

"and?"

"my little glow stick."

you gave a horrified expression, "xavier no, do not call me that."

"aww cute little glow stick," he teased.

"bro stop."

you spent the rest of the night smothering xavier with a pillow.

[baekgufiles]

loading . . .

pairing: p.sunghoon x fem!reader genre: high school!au | fluff w. count: 1.06k warnings: mentions of past bullying, mentions of food sypnosis: sunghoon has a crush on you and tries to pick up your interests to approach you.

book lovers !

— Are you… reading?

It was a new sight, for sure.

— Like actually reading that whole thing?— Jake carried the previous question.

— You know, I’m not that stupid. I can read a damn book once in a while— Sunghoon answered, putting down the novel.

— Don’t wanna let you down, but it’s the first time I’ve seen you reading by your own will in the last three years— Jay commented.

— Well, there’s a first time for everything, don’t you think?— he burried his face into the pages.

The truth is, Park Sunghoon didn’t enjoy reading. He was much more of an active person; his hobbies always had something to do with sports. Even on his laziest days, he would go out for a coffee or, worst case scenario, watch an action movie.

And the truth also is that Park Sunghoon always thought he would never be caught dead with a book on him. That was until he met you.

There hadn’t been a day on the whole year where you hadn’t brought a novel with you. Getting immersed in some passionate story and forgetting about the world around you was an everyday activity. A fire could be burning the whole school to the bedrock unbeknownst to you.

On the other hand, you could never go unnoticed. At least not by him. Sunghoon loved to watch your little unintentional reactions, your eyes quickly skipping words through the pages. He loved how your slightly too long hair got in the way, falling in front of your vision. And he loved how every time you’d blowed it, annoyed; yet the next day you would never had cut it.

Sunghoon didn’t like reading, but he couldn’t go a day without reading you. So, when he eavesdropped you recommending some book to one of your classmates with the tagline of ‘your favorite’ he knew that was his one chance.

— Hey, y/n!— his grip on the book cover became heavier at Jake’s voice—. You’ve got yourself a bookworm friend now!

— Yeah, Sunghoon suddenly has decided to pick up reading— Jay added, palming his seatmate’s back, as he added with sarcastic tone—, I wonder why.

— Guys, I’m tired of explaining that I’m not becoming besties with anyone just because they’re reading a b- Wait, you’re reading Little Women?— she interrupted herself.

Sunghoon slowly lowered the volume, finally facing you— Y-yes. It’s a nice book— his voice trembled a bit, but he managed to make himself understandable. Jay looked away, hiding a teasing smile; whereas Jake straight up caughed to hide his laughter.

— Yeah, it really is. Just… quite unexpected choice coming from you, I think— she talked, picking her words carefully.

— Well, it’s not my usual choice, but I truly like it. Also, Jo is such a good written character— his eyes caught the shimmer growing into your gaze.

— I know, right? She knew what she wanted all along, I kinda envy her. I’ve always related the most to Amy— a smile out of excitement crawled into her face.

Sunghoon was about to carry the conversation, but the teacher walked through the classroom door, announcing the end of the recess. He had never hated school more. You walked to your seat and he was left alone with Jay, Jake and their mockery.

Just when he was about to ignore everything and just sleep through the lecture, a neatly folded paper reached his desk. Kind of confused, he opened it, facing a hurried handwriting which readed “we can continue our chat after classes if you want to :)”

He raised his head in a rush, meeting your eyes in an instant before nodding enthusiastically.

— I can’t believed you really just got a date. By picking up a book? How did you do that?— Jake protested on your way out of high school.

— He has been whipped for long enough— Jay stated—. You just straight up flirt with the first girl that crossed your way.

— I’m sorry mister “I have a girlfriend”, not everyone’s got your luck— Jake bickered back.

— Can you guys calm down? I’m already plenty of nervous— Sunghoon interfered.

— You got this, don’t panic— Jay tranquilized him—. It’s just a girl, what could possibly happened?

Flash forward, Sunghoon and you just ordered coffee and two pieces of tiramisu at a little and quiet cafe near by.

The silence wasn’t totally uncomfortable, but you truly wanted to know more about your classmate, so you broke it— I didn’t know you were into reading?— you showed how you weren’t totally sure about the statement.

— Yeah, well… This was more of a first time for me— he instantly panicked, realizing what he just announced—. I mean, obviously this isn’t the first book I’ve ever read. I’ve read plenty of books before, you know? At least, plenty in my opinion; surely for you it wouldn’t be that much since you are always reading something but-

— Sunghoon— you giggled at his lowkey scared face— it’s okay, I get it. Not everyone has a book under their nose 24/7, in any case I’m the one who’d be the odd one.

You looked away, fearing about his reaction a little. He frowned— It’s not weird at all?— your attention was brought to him again, a curious expression stamped on your face—. You know, no one calls weird the football guys, and they always have a ball on them. Also for lots of them, that’s like their one and only interest and again, no one’s ever weirded out about it.

— I guess you are right— you hummed, quickly agreeing with him. You never before had the chance to chat alone with Sunghoon, but for some reason he just emanate comfort. You stirred your drink, absently—. I guess this doesn’t come as a surprise, but I used to get laughed out for just read all the time instead of actually speaking with other kids.

He lightly smiled— Believe it or not, I went through a similar phase too. Just omitting the reading thingy— he clarified, making you chuckled—. What I mean is, now I have really good friends, but it wasn’t always like that.

— We might have more in common that what I expected— you spoke, sipping your coffee—. Turns out you didn’t have to fake your interests for us to get along.

He felt the blood rushing up to his ears, face reddening on the way, as you happily chuckled.

@ baekgufiles 2024

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Bully

Bully!Soap x gn!reader (college/highsool whatever au)

It's the last evening you're all together and you can't wait to leave it all behind. Your bully finds you one last time and his intentions are not what you expected

Hurt no comfort, reader getting closure (kinda?)

Warning: Soap is an asshole in this,I'm sorry y'all

Finally it’s over. You’ll be free come morning. Free of classes and professors and classmates and most of all free of bullies. You can do what you want and wherever you’ll end up, it will be a completely new chapter in your life.

You just have to get through this one evening. Honestly you considered not coming to the graduation party, you didn’t really have a connection to anyone anyway. But you came to the conclusion that it would be a nice way to say goodbye to these four years of hell.

You pushed through, you did it and after this evening you won’t have to see any of these spawns of hell ever again. You haven’t had this much peace of mind in a long time. The certainty of things finally being done makes you feel more confident so you don’t really glance up when John fucking MacTavish decides to join you.

What he could want now, on the last evening of all of you seeing each other, eludes you. Maybe he wants to get on your nerves one last time. Bully you one last time but suddenly you don’t even care. Let him be an ass, you won’t have to see his irritating face ever again come morning.

“Hey, ugly. Surprised you decided to show your face here. Can’t be that anyone invited you.”

He’s smirking down at you with that annoying, cocky smirk that makes so many girls swoon. You don’t even look up at him, leaning back on the steps leading down to the backyard of whoever’s house this is. You take another sip of your drink.

“Still haven’t found your voice after all these years, huh, mutt.”, he continues to goad you and finally you look up at him, meeting his eyes.

It’s really sad, that he’s so pretty, such a pretty shell for so much ugly personality. “What do you want MacTavish.”, you ask, almost bored.

He seems taken aback by your lack of reaction to him. But he finds his grin immediately again. “Ohhh look at the little mutt being all grown up and not being scared of me, anymore.”

He sits down next to you, leaning into your space and you lean away from him, the railing behind you keeping you from falling back. “Don’t forget what I can do to you.”, he whispers almost threateningly and suddenly you laugh. He flinches back from the unexpected sound.

Your laugh is easy and carefree, your eyes sparkling with honest mirth as you look into his eyes. Your laugh steals his breath. He’s never seen you laugh like this and it throws him off. God he didn’t know you’d sound so pretty, even though he imagined making you laugh like this more times than he can count.

“Yeah?”, you ask still giggling. “What are you gonna do? There’s no lockers here for you to lock me into. What are you gonna do? Trip me? Pull my hair? Rip my clothes? Drag me to the bathroom and lock me in there? Tell everyone here that “little ugly” came to the party to ruin everyone’s view?”

You relax against the banister behind you gaze still locked on him and he opens and closes his mouth once before leaning in again: “No, I’ll give you what you’ve wanted from me all these years.”

Suddenly your mouth is dry as he puts his broad warm hand on your thigh. Your eyes meet his, big, like a deer caught in the headlight and suddenly everything makes sense. The way he’d pick on you, his flushed face when he spilled water over you and your shirt got see-through. The way he’d call you ugly because you can see it in his eyes, he thinks you’re anything but ugly.

He gently starts letting his hand wander to your inner thigh where it begins to drag upwards and you reflexively close your thighs, trapping his hand, preventing him from travelling higher. You leave his hand there and lean in too so your lips are next to his ear.

“And what do I want from you, MacTavish?”, you don’t miss the way he shudders when he feels your breath on his skin. His hand grips your thigh tighter.

“You want me to touch you, have since the first day, where I bumped into you on accident and made you drop your books. Ever since then I couldn’t get you out of my head, the way you’d looked up at me from where you gathered your stuff. Wanted to see that face over and over again. That’s why you never rand from me, mutt, you wanted me to bully you, to make you feel all helpless and small. And now I’ll finally give you the bullying you wanted from me.”, he murmurs to you and maybe if it were still that first interaction he just recounted you’d react with goosebumps.

Instead you grab his wrist when he tries to move his hand again and rip it off of you. You laugh again and he leans back looking at you, shocked at the surprisingly cold sound.

You shove his hand against his chest and pat his cheek condescendingly and harder than he should allow. “No, Johnny. I didn’t run because there was no where you didn’t find me. You’re an asshole to think I’d want you after everything.”

His eyes are wide and you see cracks in his façade for the first time. “But you’re obviously attracted to me.”, he almost splutters and you grin and stand up.

“Sorry MacTavish, no body and face could ever be attractive enough to cover the stench of your rotten personality.”, you say pleasantly, brushing off invisible dust from your thighs. Or maybe you’re brushing away the reminder of his touch.

Johnny can’t believe what’s happening. He was so sure of it. He’d get to have you today, after three years of making you look at him with those adorable tearful eyes, you’d allow him to make you all glassy eyed for a different reason. And he’d be so good, so much better than you’d expect, that you’d ask for his number and he’d get to keep you as his nice little pet dog. He’d get to bully you like he’s always done just with an added layer of pleasure.

“Darling, please. Let me explain.” He hates how whiny his voice suddenly sounds, the petname slipping out subconsciously.

“I hope you have a nice rest of your life, MacTavish. I’m outta here. Nothing here for me to miss. I hope I never see you again.”, you say, then turn and wave over your shoulder.

“Please. Stay.”, his voice is thin and why the hell is he the one that sounds like a pathetic dog now?

You don’t spare him another glance as you leave, missing the way he’s the one with glossy eyes for once.

[greycaelum]

I feel like Satoru has some low level 'I want to save everyone' thing in him because of his abilities. What if Kouki inherited it? Kouki got tangled with a bullying sesh and it resulted to brawling. Well, Kouki tried to be the big boy and talk things out but everything escalated. Just like Megumi-nii! And the parents got called in the principal's office. Satoru, the proud dad becuase he trained him and yn just sighs.

Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters { Son }

—Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader

𑁍 Synopsis:

If there is one person he unquestionably respects, there's only one person in his mind.

It's his Father.

𑁍 Genre: family theme, fluff, angst if you squint, comfort

𑁍 CW/TW: (1.5k)—bullying, guidance office, brawl, Satoru just being a proud dad, and the munchkins protective moments, NOT PROOFREAD this is fight-or-fight *sigh

𑁍 A/N: Better late than never for my munchkin, here's to Kou's 8th birthday. Can't have my little mochi growing up to soon. Excuse Grey for being MIA, I'm dying from simultaneous exams, defense, and work can't believe I manage to sneak this in~ —Grey

If there is one person he unquestionably respects, there's only one person in his mind.

It's his Father.

The unwavering stance of his Papa never seems to falter.

"Again."

Kouki gasp for air on his knees. His sore arms barely supported him as he feels his muscles shaking.

"Get up Kou, on your feet, c'mon buddy." His Papa looked at him observantly but at the same time made no move to help him. "No one's gonna help you unless you help your self little one."

Has was six. Barely got his 'r' and 'l' right but started the daily training with his father. An hour of uninterrupted various activities tired and challenged him. It was the time not even his Mama can come and intervene.

He didn't hate it. Looking back on those times, he is certain that it's the reason he didn't break apart even after his curse techniques nearly shattered his mind.

"In a fight, you don't win just by physical force Kikufuku." His Father sighed, flicking his nose the nth time for losing yet again. "You first shatter the mind." The back of his father's finger knocked on his temples. "Then you break their body."

His Father sternly prohibited him from all the things he learned in their training to use against harmless people.

"What happened to your cheeks, sweetheart?" You asked him, wiping your hands and kneeling before your son who just came home from school. The reddish-than-normal patch and dirt on his clothes awakened your curiosity and fear at the solitary guess in your mind.

"I should've made myself clear. I did say don't use it on harmless people... But." His Papa busied himself cleaning Kouki's wounds while you are inquiring the school about this incident. His Papa's eyes stared at him with a dissatisfied glint. "I didn't mean that you let yourself get kicked around buddy."

Kouki remembers the distress on your face seeing him once again dirty and all. His Father never mentioned a word but only looked at him for a long time before announcing dinner. He finds it unnecessary to fight for himself. He's never been diligent enough to bother proving himself. But it comes differently when it's directed to the people he loves.

Really he never meant to let it get too far. Kouki sighed with his arms crossed over his chest. Sitting in front of him is his classmates, battered and dirty.

They are all sitting on the other side, glaring at him who's sitting by the left seat all alone.

To be fair he did hold back. His Mama raised him better than being a violent person, and while his Pa taught him how to fight, he never taught him to recklessly hit others. He doesn't really want his Ma to come to fetch him in the discipline's office.

Contrary to popular belief, he's a pretty quiet kid in the class. But these kinds of brawls always gravitate towards him since middle school.

The door slammed open. The familiar long white hair of his sister contrasts the gloomy atmosphere of the room. Her bright blue eyes darted from her brother and to the other side of the boys hunched altogether.

A feral glint soon emanated from her eyes. Kouki sometimes has to blame their father for letting Saika join in those training. She's always been a hot-tempered girl.

"You dare punch my broth—"

Kouki was ready to jump on his sister when the door slammed open.

"Ah! There's my boy, no bruises and all clean. See I told you Honey he's fine. Right, Kikufuku?"

The striking silvery white mane of his father gathered all the attention, followed by your figure, worriedly looking at your children. The guidance counselor also went inside.

Satoru looks at the boys on the other side. All looked at him and his wife with pale faces.

"I beat them up. And I'm not going to say sorry." Kouki scowled before the guidance counselor spoke.

"Well, that's not the best thing to say in your situation, young lad." The elder woman sighed. Gesturing for you and Satoru to sit. Saika finds her way to see beside her brother, calm but Kouki can see the bearings working inside his sister's brain.

"This is the..." The woman looked at you and at the record in her hand. "Fifth offense, dear. Quite overdue don't you think?" The elder lady looked at the young boys who are itching to bite at Kouki. "As for you children, five versus one? Really boys?"

Satoru chuckled. You elbowed him stifling him up.

In his defense, he gotta love the humor of the new guidance counselor.

"You won buddy." Satoru ruffled his son's hair making the boy squirm.

"Satoru." You growled, slowly regretting bringing your husband with you.

"He punched us first!"

"You talked to me first." Kouki raised a brow. 

"Mrs. Gojo, anything to say about your son's behavior?" The counselor asked. She looks and acts more calm than the previous flirty lady.

"We're not in the scene, c'mon we're at work. How about you guys tell us? Since you're the ones in school? Hmmm?" Satoru intervened, engulfing your hand in his hold to stop you. "Or how about you guys tell us?" Satoru switched to a friendly tone and looked at the boys.

Let me Honey... it was a quiet note for you.

"He punched us first! We were just talking." One of the boys justified, but quickly hunched his shoulders when he met Satoru's direct gaze.

"You were talking about how I and my sister are witches, with our unusual hair," Kouki lowly growled. Eyes turning shades darker.

"Satoru." You shakily uttered your husband's name.

"It was fine really, if you just talked about me, I would let you go." Kouki's eyes turned dark that you swear they looked so much like his Father's, much more resemblant compared to his sister's. A quiet raging storm. "But if I let you go it's like I feel sorry for myself and my sister for looking like how we are. And I'm never gonna be sorry for looking like my father much more for beating you up." Your son subtly hissed.

"Hmmm, well said, well said." Satoru nodded, once again intervening. Glancing at the new guidance counselor who took off her glasses and frowned.

"You three go out. I need to talk to the counselor alone." You kicked your cats out before they make any more ruckus.

"Now let's talk won't we little ones?" You turned to the children with a sigh.

Satoru waited outside the nearby cafe with his son sitting beside him and Saika busy playing with his sunglasses.

It's not the first time, to be fair, he was ready to transfer his kids the second they wished so. But Kouki endured it. Satoru knew his son's temper, perhaps better than you. It's a man-to-man thing. The lil' mochi wouldn't complain if it's just about him. He would keep quiet even if the kids isolate him. Even if he's always left with the shortest stick, the hardest challenges. The lil' guy would just accept it and go on.

He's always been a little worried for his son letting himself put up with such grievances. But later he understands that the little guy just doesn't wanna bother too much about the temporary things. And that he just has a different trigger than the rest. It's not about him, but his trigger lies in those he holds dear. And that doesn't make Kouki weak, it just makes him more untouchable by ephemeral situations.

He doesn't need to say much but ruffling his son's long hair is more than enough to make the little one lit up.

"Did you won?"

"Of course Papa, not a scratch or a punch. See?" Kouki grinned showing off his pristine uniform as clean as it was when you ironed it this morning.

A familiar silhouette of a young rebellious teenager with black hair flashed through Satoru's mind. As calm and organized Megumi looks, the kid was worth a dozen being the "problem" child that Satoru never really had a problem raising.

"Good boy, next we'll learn jujitsu."

"Satoru your son is still just 9." You cut him off. Setting your bag beside your husband.

"Mama," Saika ran to your legs.

"Nothing too early to start discipline." Satoru shrug. "C'mon Honey, I'm his father. Can't have my son getting kicked around."

You sighed, shaking your head and told the kids to fetch their bags. You're bringing them home early today. When they came back Satoru took their bags, your children more than excited to go home.

"Kou, Sai,—" you kneeled in front of your son and daughter, bringing their hands to your lips. "—being different doesn't make you any less. To the people who really love you, you'll never be any less."

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby  @aeanya  @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld

[knmaskitten]

Hate to love you !!

pairing— Ren Amamiya x afab!reader

summary— you hate Ren amamiya so much you avoid him everyday, until your classmate decides to play you a little prank.

warnings— Slight bullying.

notes— I feel like I can't write enemies to lovers, enjoy.

It was a rainy day today—the kind of day you cherish and love. The rain reminded you of many things, among them your boyfriend. You met him in your high school days when you were just a teenager, full of dreams and vehemence. The thing is, you and him had a weird start, a very weird one, which even today makes you laugh hard.

Ren Amamiya was always able to infuriate you. Regardless of the situation, something always came up when it came to him. God, you couldn't even stand to see him in the school corridors. You always wondered what the hell it was that kept you on edge when it came to him. God cursed the days you had to see him more than once at school, all because of bad luck. He wasn't even in the same class as you were, and even so, you saw him at least three times a week.

Today was one of those days. Between classes, you were standing in the center of the hallway when you noticed his jet-black hair. Along with him were Ryuuji Sakamoto and Ann Takamaki, who looked very busy discussing something you weren’t able to hear. He hadn't noticed you, and you weren't going to allow him to see you. Quickly, you ran towards the nearest door, which was a few meters away. On the way there, Mariko Yoshimoto intercepted you with a big, bright, toothy smile.

“Hey there! Where are you going in such a hurry, dear?” She asked naively. You were aware that she was faking it. Mariko liked to mess with people just to see their reactions, and while you never even allowed a pinch of her foolishness to deceive you, she still dared to use you as one of her little toys. You were strong-minded and hated when other people played dumb tricks on you; you could not stand injustice. 

Perhaps this could not stop her from doing what she was about to do, because somewhere inside you, you knew. You knew what she wanted to do because it was no secret how much you loathed Ren Amamiya and how much you loved to evade him. And she knew this piece of information very well.

She peeked behind your shoulder, and her smile grew even wider.

“Wow, running away now, are we?” A devilish chuckle erupted from her mouth, and as her lips mouthed her next sentence, a cold sweat ran through your body. Your instincts were telling you to tackle her and escape to the roof, the library, or somewhere else that would let you be at freaking peace. But you didn’t do any of those things; instead, you stood, frozen in place.

“Ren-kun!, hey! How are you?” One of her little devil hands flew to your shoulder to keep you in place. You could feel how her nails were digging little moons into your skin, while also wrinkling your school uniform, which you worked hard to keep pristine. You pursed your lips at this.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” You warned. Placing your hand on her wrist to free yourself, she countered by staying still and strong, unfazed by her mission of making your life miserable.

Regarding your threats and silent protest, she kept her schemes up, and her next sentence was the last nail in the coffin. It was the last thing you wanted to hear in the world. 

“My little friend and I would love to spend some time with you and your friends if that's okay with you. Uh, and them too, of course.” Her eyes looked like those of a deer, glazed and doe-like and her teeth were showing again. She was smiling courtly and kindly, trying to hide the deception behind her words.

Say no.

Say no.

Please say no.

Mentally, you pleaded. Turning around, he was standing there a little bit taken aback, even more so seeing that it was you who was included in that sentence. He looked at you, piercing through your figure, analyzing every movement and every gesture. Anything that might tell him otherwise.

“You sure? Your friend sure looks like she could be buried at any moment.” He said it sternly. His eyes were scanning between you and Mariko, noticing something odd about the situation. 

Ann thought otherwise, because she smiled brightly and shrugged Amamiya off.  “They just want to hang out with us; I don’t think there’s something wrong with anybody.”.

But there was!

You mentally screamed and rolled your eyes. It was out of comprehension how this was even happening and why you were allowing it. You sighed, defeated. You smoothed the pleats on your dark skirt and proceeded to walk towards him, and with fake pleading eyes and a pout, you confronted him.

“Today is not your lucky day, Amamiya, and neither is mine.  If we ever have to spend some quality time together, it would be in fucking hell.” You spat. And then you turned around to finish your blow. “And Mariko, find someone else to be your bitch because I am not available to fill that damned position.”

And you walked off. There was nothing else to do but walk away from there. And you walked—not run, not sprint—walked. You walked to the beat of the confused conversation you were leaving behind, and when there was a turn, you ran. Ran so fast you could feel a stream of tears forming in your eyes.

You ended up in the girls’ bathroom, feeling a little bit safe. You hid on one of the stools. Letting yourself go, the flood of tears came like a current, strolling down your cheeks like a river. Thank goodness you were wearing waterproof mascara that day. Feeling a little bit pathetic, you let yourself go and cried like a baby. You hated when everything went to your head; you hated when such trifles were able to get a grip on you. 

Life was just this shitty, you guessed.

Later in the day, you were on cleaning duty, trying to dust off a corner filled with spiderwebs.

“Do you need help with that?” He was softly spoken, almost like a faint mumble. Just like he didn’t want to be either heard or perceived.

“Maybe never,” you spat. Was it that hard to have a single peaceful day? He meddled in every single one of your businesses as if he were your mom or something. You turned around to face that fair skin and sharp features, those deep eyes and ruffled hair, to face him.

He frowned; he looked a tad bit pissed. Like if somebody just stuck gum in his pristine, perfect hair. He took two steps towards you, perfectly measured and dance-like. The light shone in his iris, making it difficult to pinpoint what was making you feel so drunk-like.

“You are one hell of a nice person, aren’t you?” he hissed in a poisonous manner.

Was it his tone that made you feel a tingling sensation at the nape of your neck? Or maybe it was how his eyes lit up with fire when you spoke. Or maybe, just maybe, was it that you hated him so much that you wanted to shut him up in just about any way you could? The room was empty but it felt full to the brim with anger. It was an antithesis of how the light danced on the floor and the little specks of dust floating in such serenity and then you two, full of tension and loathing.

“You’re one to talk, mister perfect behavior.” You gave him a very fake, crooked smile. He looked like he expected it as such but still managed to lose composure whenever you were around. He ran his hand through his air and adjusted his glasses; he almost looked disheveled.

“You play with my nerves.”

“Can’t believe you even have nerves.”

“Ugh.”Another step closer—too close, maybe. Everything felt as if it were slowing in time; the little dust specks were suspended, and the light ceased to dance. A light breeze flew past you, messing up some hair strands.

“What are you even doing here?… You don’t even go to this class.” You almost whisper, lowering your tone.

"Why, just why do you hate me?” He said bluntly.

“Cornering someone is not very friendly, you know.”

“I’ve never said I wanted to be friendly with you.”

“I hate you.” 

Another step closer to you, he leaned in, millimeters from your face. You were able to see his porcelain skin and dark eyes, as well as how he scrunched his face when he was near you.

“You don’t understand how much I do too.”

He looked as if he were going to kiss you; he looked at your lips and then at your eyes, analyzing you. He smiled, a mischievous grin, and exhaled. You felt his breath hit your nostrils, your warm skin. Instinctively, you took a step backwards, putting as much distance between you two as you could.

He then approached you and kissed you very swiftly but passionately. You returned the kiss, hatefully kissing him, with spite and loathing.

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

And the rest was history. After that, you two started sneaking out of class to kiss, progressively started having lunch together, and then, after keeping all of this a secret, you asked him out, but not before discussing what the hell was the feeling you both had. At the end, you both came to the conclusion that you hated each other’s guts because you couldn’t have them. Ren said, “I hate to love you.” and you agreed with him.

You definitely hated to love Ren so much, but still, at the end of the day and even right now, you couldn't imagine a life without him.

Thank you for reading <3 masterlist and more.

[eoieopda]

Yoongi + “runaway bride” I’mma leave this one up to your interpretation bc I know I’ll love it either way and also wanna see what you come up with 👀

oooooooh!!! v excited by this prompt, lol. this is, um, going to hurt kind of a lot at the beginning, but stick with me!!!! also, i accidentally made this >3.3k words….. which i will proofread when i am no longer exhausted 🤪

the one with yoongi and the fucking hydrangeas

ft. POV shift, pining & correlating angst, reader who’s🎵 a runner she’s a track star 🎵, a #nonspon vans product placement, a very unfortunate namjoon (sorry, buddy,) childhood idiots in love

2024 ETA: long after this was written, the user who requested this drabble admitted that they were a minor masquerading as an adult, violating my explicitly stated boundaries re: minors being prohibited from interacting with me and my content. this user has since been blocked.

Yoongi sat in a seat chosen specifically for him not because he wanted to, but because he knew how much time you’d sacrificed in writing every place card by hand.

To be clear, he’d never wanted to attend this rehearsal dinner in the first place. Unfortunately, he knew the stakes. That wasn’t something he’d dare to say out loud — especially not to you. Not in that restaurant while you fluttered between tables and shined your warm light on every single guest, one by one. Not ever, because you’d slipped through Yoongi’s fingers the second Namjoon slid that ring on yours.

If, in twelve hours’ time, Yoongi could force his deflated body out of bed, he’d have to watch quietly while you got away for good.

There was nothing he could do about it, either, so he swallowed that grief with a mouthful of bibim nengmyun. He knew it wasn’t the food that tasted so bitter on his tongue; however, on the off-chance that it was, he followed suit with another ill-advised swig of makgeolli.

During the two subsequent hours he sat and stewed at that table, Yoongi had lost count of just how many glasses he’d had. His eyes never lingered on the bottle, sticking instead to you and the smile that didn’t seem to spread beyond the curve of your lips. Every now and then, you’d glance his way — and every time you did, there was a microscopic twinge at the corner of your mouth.

It felt like a signal, something cryptic, but he wasn’t in the proper headspace to begin making assumptions. For the first time ever, you’d hit Yoongi with a look he didn’t know what to do with, and that fact drove him insane. This was what he was afraid of, after all — that the invisible string between you would be re-routed to someone else, and the telepathic link you’d always shared would disappear with it.

Your friendship had started early because your respective mothers had grown up together, and found each other once again as adults with two kids each. Back then, both of your front teeth were missing and — if Yoongi made you laugh too hard at routine, weekend gatherings — banana milk would occasionally fly out through the gap. He was nine-years-old and had no concept of it, but now he knows that he loved you then.

He loved you when you were ten, and you kneed a classmate in the dick for bullying Yoongi on the basketball court. You were two years younger and half his size, but you were a force to be reckoned with.

He loved you when you were fourteen, and a wave of brand new hormones made you a little bit of a fucking nightmare to be around.

At seventeen, twenty-one, still.

Now.

There, while everyone around him clinked their chopsticks against their glasses and Namjoon accepted the crowd’s wordless demand that he kiss you.

Yoongi had done well enough with your previous relationships. None of them made him feel like this, though, and he’d spent two years unable to put his finger on why. Sandwiched at that carefully chosen table between his mother and older brother, it finally clicked: None of them ever threatened to last.

Yoongi had never been a particularly hopeful person, but buried deep in the back of his brain, there had always been a crumb of it. Part of him, however stupid, thought you’d end up together at a dinner like this. All of this was the last nail in the coffin, the alarm clock screaming that it was time to wake up.

Suddenly more nauseous than he’d ever been before, Yoongi scooted his chair back so abruptly that it scraped along the floorboards. Just as quickly, he got to his feet and made a beeline for the exit. Of all the heads that turned to watch him leave, yours was the only one he noticed in his peripheral vision. He could feel your eyes on his back — pictured how confused you must look — and it only made his stomach acid churn faster.

When he finally made it out to the patio behind the restaurant, Yoongi’s suspicions were confirmed: closed for the season. Fitting. He wasn’t in the mood to heed the signs, so he stepped carefully — one leg at a time — over the hip-high metal gate and gulped down sharp, late autumn air. As he did, he begged himself to get his shit together for you, if not for him.

He spent several minutes out there, maybe even hours, sitting on a bare, metal chair and glowering out at the trees at the edge of the property. He hated himself, he realized, for how easily he wasted time. Let it slip by unnoticed while he stood still.

The clock seemed to mock him, ticking faster from behind him as if time was going to outrun him again.

At least, that was his first guess.

Yoongi quickly learned that the clicks weren’t signaling the passing seconds; they were broadcasting the urgent beat of stilettos on brick. So, having figured that his mother had appeared outside to gun him down, Yoongi glanced over his shoulder and braced himself for the be-all, end-all of scoldings.

What he got instead was you and the undeserved concern that caused your eyebrows to furrow.

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly once you reached the gate. With your manicured hands on the cold metal, you shivered, but you didn’t seem to notice. “Did you eat too much of the gochujang? I definitely did, and now I’ll be up all night with heartburn.”

Yoongi felt as though he’d been punched in the chest. The memory caught him in a riptide, beat him bloody against the rocks because he could’ve sworn he was sixteen again, stacking old encyclopedias under the headboard of your bed. He’d read somewhere online that, while sitting upright in a chair can exacerbate reflux, sleeping at an angle could help.

He was dizzy when he blinked back at you and saw your lips moving. He had to focus hard to figure out what you were saying.

“You remember that?”

Yoongi struggled to even out his breathing; he had no hope at all of finding the plot he’d lost. “Huh?”

You grinned and it made up for all the stars that had been hidden by grey clouds overhead. “The encyclopedias,” you chuckled, “They worked, you know.”

Yoongi didn’t mean to say it. He knew it before, during, and after it slipped out of his mouth that it was the worst goddamn thing he’d ever done, but he couldn’t stop himself — couldn’t shove the bullet he’d shot back into the gun. With the way it exploded through his chest — I love you — he was surprised that his body was still intact. No viscera sprayed out from the exit wound, no stains appeared on your chic, white cocktail dress.

You opened your mouth but closed it soon after, so clearly stunned by his unsolicited admission that you couldn’t find the words. Yoongi had no expectations whatsoever when it came down to your reaction because he hadn’t meant to provoke one in the first place. Even still, the wounded look on your face was worse than anything he might’ve imagined.

The two of you stood in tense silence for so long that Yoongi’s soul had nearly ejected itself fully from his body.

“That’s not fair,” eventually came your shaky reply. You clenched your fist tight around the top of the gate to anchor yourself and stammered, “Yoongi, that is not — Why would you —”

As soon as he aimed to take a step in your direction, your shock gave way to a scowl that could’ve boiled him alive.

“Why would you dump that at my feet? Tonight, of all fucking nights, Yoongi — seriously?” You snapped, though it sounded like a sob. “What am I supposed to do with this now?”

Now?

He didn’t know how to respond. He was paralyzed, inside and out, and he deserved it. Who the fuck was he, forcing the burden of his feelings onto you?

Selfish. Stupid. Out of time, as usual.

The makeup you always took so much time on started to run alongside your tears. Yoongi had seen you cry before, though he’d always been the reason you stopped, rather than started. He hated every single one of those muddied, black tears because he knew you. He knew you would have worn waterproof mascara if you’d had any reason to anticipate crying on your special night.

“I’m getting married in the morning!”

Your reminder was a dagger flying out of your mouth, sticking him right between the ribs. It stung as images flooded his mind — of you and Namjoon, your guests, and your out-of-season, imported fucking hydrangeas. It hurt even worse to see how badly you shook as you glared at him.

“Yoongi — fuck!”

Before you walked away, your eyes locked on his for a fraction of a second. In that moment, Yoongi promised himself that it was the last time you’d ever have to see his face.

When you were little, you pictured your wedding day like a moment ripped straight out of Cinderella. In your head, you’d wake up to birds singing at your window and mice scurrying around your feet, eager to dress you in a gown of epic and magical proportions. It’d be perfect. For years, you’d been sure of it.

In reality, there was no waking up because there hadn’t been a single second of sleep to begin with. No beauty rest, no sweet dreams of marital bliss — just you, feeling as if you’d swallowed a car battery. It sat heavy in the pit of your stomach, let acid burn all the way up to your esophagus. And it’d been all too easy to toss and turn in your hotel bed, which laid perfectly level on top of a plush, floral rug.

You crawled out of bed without the assistance of altruistic rodents and shuffled your dead weight over to the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. For once, your imagination had been accurate. Your puffy eyes were red in the aftermath of all your tears. They ached above circles so deep and dark that they would’ve alarmed you if you hadn’t expected them.

Namjoon had seen you at what you both believed to be your worst. Neither of you could’ve ever predicted that the Corpse Bride would be the one staggering down the aisle towards him. He’d love you anyway, you knew it, no matter how you looked. But if he knew what you spent all night toiling over…

You shook your head and abruptly turned away from the mirror. There were several of your dearest friends bustling around the room next to yours, all of whom were waiting on you. Swallowing hard, you headed for the adjoining door and promised yourself that the only person you’d let down today would be you.

You lost all track of time when a blur of hands went to work on you. If you’d closed your eyes while you dissociated, you could’ve pretended that your assistants were those woodland creatures you used to dream about. But you couldn’t close your eyes, couldn’t sleep through this part, couldn’t let your mind wander all the way back to that patio.

It’d been terrifying, staring your own heart in the face like that. More than anything, it was confusing because it didn’t look like you expected it would — not like an organ at all, but a person. You’d gotten so good at ignoring it that you couldn’t reasonably expect yourself to recognize it. It knew you, though, and loved you. Apparently, it always had.

As you sat in that hotel room, far away from the patio, you pictured every other moment you wished Yoongi had said what he did. The thousand times you’d thought for sure he felt the same, and all the ways you distracted yourself when you resigned to believing he didn’t. Every person you dated until you finally managed to move on —

“— please, love?”

You blinked rapidly to force your eyes to focus. In front of you, your mother stood with a knowing smile on her face and a sokchima in her hands. You didn’t need to ask her to repeat herself; you took the hint and rose slowly to your feet.

“I was nervous on my wedding day,” she hummed as she pulled the undergarment gently over your head. “Hungover, too, but your grandmother does not need to know that. Frankly, I’m surprised she couldn’t tell with how bloated I was when she helped me get ready…”

The bright scarlet chima followed without so much as a word from you. Your heart slammed helplessly against your rib cage when your mother proceeded to tug the sleeves of your jeogori up your arms. This moment should be special, you thought bitterly. All you wanted to do was cry; to apologize to your mother for your total inability to care while your wedding happened around you, not for you.

Soon enough, you were dressed. Your friends and older sister gushed about how beautiful you looked — the perfect bride — like you weren’t caught in the web of an anxiety attack. Like it wasn’t all wrong, and you weren’t dangling on the precipice of your life’s greatest mistake. Like you hadn’t spent so much of your hard-earned money on invitations and greenhouse-grown, special-ordered fucking hydrangeas.

Like you could catch a fucking breath under all the layers of your hanbok.

Sensing that a moment alone was necessary, your mother kissed your cheek and ushered the others out the door ahead of her. Before seeing herself out, too, she stalled in the threshold, turned back around to look at you, and exhaled through a pause.

“I left your shoes by the dresser,” she chirped.

The gentleness of her tone was reassuring, but there was a faint gleam in her eyes that caught your attention. Before you could ask after it, she nodded firmly once and let the door click shut behind her.

Alone again, your instinct was to do the same thing you’d spent ten consecutive hours doing — burying yourself under pillows and crying until you ran out of tears. But you had run out, which was precisely was the problem. You had no options left, nothing left to do but lean in.

At least, that was your first guess.

Your list of choices expanded by one when you saw the well-worn pair of slip-on Vans your mother had set out for you.

Yoongi sat on the edge of his bed with his elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands.

Only two meters away, a garment bag hung from the hook on the back of his bedroom door. That bag — and the crisp, black suit it concealed — lingered there for weeks in the shadows, untouched since the day he bought it. Even though it hadn’t left its hanger, he felt it smothering him throughout the night. It choked him while one thought ran circles in his sleep-deprived brain:

The reason he bought it was the same reason he’d never be able to wear it.

Sick of the way he’d trapped himself with his thoughts, Yoongi pushed himself to his feet and crossed over to the door. With the way he flung it open, knob slamming against the wall, he’d likely never recover his security deposit. It felt good, though, taking his grief out on that godforsaken suit.

On his way to his front door, Yoongi stopped short. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a cabinet he hadn’t opened in weeks. As he stared at it, the devil and angel on his shoulders warred over the action he wanted so desperately to take.

Sure, he’d recently — finally — quit at your insistence, but what did that matter now?

He gritted his teeth and shook his conscience off his shoulders with a shrug. Within seconds, Yoongi was on the other side of his kitchen, grabbing an unopened pack of cigarettes and the lighter that lay in wait next to it. He closed his hand tight around it so he couldn’t see the Hello Kitty stickers you’d placed all over the plastic; your attempt to dissuade him from using it in public.

Joke’s on you, he thought as he placed a cigarette between his lips, your plan backfired. Leaving your mark on it the way you had was the only thing that’d kept him from throwing it away — and the only reason he still had a lighter to use at all.

Yoongi opened his front door with one hand as he tried to ignite the lighter with the other. No matter how many time he flicked the pad of his thumb over those little metal ridges, nothing sparked. Defeated yet again, he slumped down onto the porch swing, closed his eyes, and willed himself not to break down over something so stupid.

He had no way of knowing how much time passed as he sat like that. He had no way to tell who those urgent footfalls belonged to, either. That is, not until panted breaths hit his ears and prompted him to open his eyes.

Admittedly, Yoongi had pictured you in your bridal hanbok more than once throughout the years. Half the time, it hadn’t even been purposeful. From first to third grade, you’d rambled to him about your dream wedding on your daily walks home from school. You spoke about it so often, in fact, that even he started thinking about what embroidery a mouse might add to the hem of your chima.

As the pair of you got older, you brought it up less, so Yoongi didn’t think about it often. The image crept up on him, though, once in a while. Every time you brought him as a plus one to your friends’ weddings because you didn’t want to dance alone; and he nearly told you that he’d always want to be your partner.

Or that time you cried through your worst ever heartbreak on his couch, lamented that you’d die an old maid, and never get to wear one.

Even as recently as last night, when he drank half a fifth of whiskey and grieved over the fact that he’d never get to see you wear one.

He couldn’t make heads or tails of the real thing, not with the way you’d doubled over to catch your breath; and bunched the ends up in your fists, presumably to prevent yourself from tripping as you — ran here?

“What did I tell you about the cigarettes?” You puffed, still with your hands on your knees and your face angled at the sidewalk.

Somehow, despite running five kilometers to Yoongi’s doorstep, you hadn’t displaced a single hair from your artfully crafted up-do. Your makeup hadn’t budged, either, which meant that the only sign of your expended effort was the tint of pink on your cheeks and the tip of your nose.

You’d outrun his train of thought in your scuffed, old Vans. Yoongi had to buffer for a moment in order to catch up, but the involuntary smile fighting its way over his mouth didn’t bother to wait. Eventually, he recited your long-suffering appeal, smirking all the while, “They’ll fuck me up, and I’ll have to be wheeled out onto the basketball court in an iron lung.”

“Exactly.”

With one last, deep breath, you returned to your upright position. The second you did, Yoongi was the one choking up.

Rapid blinking did nothing to stop the tears pricking at the inner corners of his eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat to the best of his ability, but he couldn’t shake the inexplicable flutter in his chest at the sight of you. You’d always been perfect, but this was —

“Oh, my god,” he croaked, thoroughly melted from the inside out.

Yoongi stood before his brain could signal his legs to do so; or remind his hands not to drop the phone, lighter, and cigarettes he’d been holding. His eyes, on the other hand, knew exactly what to do. He drank in your appearance like he’d spent the last twenty-two years wandering, dehydrated in the desert — and in a way, he had.

You blinked back at him with swimming eyes as if you’d found sanctuary, too. Suddenly aware of what you were gripping, you opened your fists and let the fabric flutter down to the ground. While smoothing out wrinkles that didn’t exist, you asked softly, “Not bad for a bunch of mice, right?”

“Look just like a dream,” he replied just as gently.

Yoongi’s hands, which were thankfully now free, reached out and grabbed yours. You followed his lead as he spun you, twirled under his raised arm until you ended up with your face mere centimeters from his.

“Yoongi,” you breathed. Your eyes danced from his, to his lips, and back again. “If you wait another twenty-two years to tell me how you feel, please pick a time and place that is mutually convenient. I swear to God, I’ll —”

It came out much more easily the second time than the first; and when it did, it felt more like a beginning than a bomb:

“I love you.”

[gatorbites-imagines]

Jason Vorhees with Male Childhood best friend (preferably POC). They meet each other again after decades only for them to try and kill each other because they don't recognize each other. But make them have a happy ending because happy = : D

Jason Voorhees x male reader

Headcanons

I always try to keep my stories open so anyone can imagine the reader as whatever race or appearance they have, unless I state otherwise (like when I make the reader taller, etc), so I didn’t change much in this to make the reader POC, so I hope that’s okay ^^

I headcanon that Jason is nonverbal so there’s mentions of signing in this. I may have gone a little further than childhood best friends, but I hope that’s okay anyways :)

-          You and Jason met at Camp Crystal Lake when you were children. You had always been a little strange, liking to be alone and spend time reading and alike than going out and causing messes like other kids.

-          This caused you to be quite isolated during camp, and you spent most of your time indoors, sitting near the cabins or up against trees, or sitting in the lunch area with Pamela Voorhees who worked at the camp to watch over her son Jason.

-          Pamela liked you because you were polite and never once made rude comments or gestures at Jason, so she tried to help build a relationship between you and her son.

-          Jason was still bullied by the other kids, which was the only time you really ever talked with the others kids as you always ran in to defend him, or push over the kids who were trying to hurt Jason.

 -          As time at camp passed you started holding Jason’s hand and you two would walk together everywhere, be it sitting together as you read out loud for him, or you going with Jason down to the lake to look at the bugs and other creatures that swam around.

-          You two got quite close and you started having a childhood crush on the other boy, who was starting to have a crush on you too because of how kind you were to him.

-          One day Jason brings you some flowers he’s picked and signed to you with the few signs you knew that he liked you, and he was very much expecting you to be disgusted because you were both boys and because of his appearance.

-          So when you blushed and told him you liked him too, he was over the moon. You were still just kids at the time so you being boyfriends didn’t really mean anything. You kept up holding hands and spending time together like before, and only Pamela knew you were “dating”.

-          She thought you two were so sweet together, so she never said anything about it.

 -          The day they threw Jason into the lake was one of your worst memories. Some of the older kids had knocked you down and were holding you down as they beat on you, others going to throw Jason into the lake.

-          When Jason didn’t come up from the water you started yelling and screaming, which finally caught the attention of the camp leaders and Pamela, the older woman coming running. When she saw you being held down, covered in bruises and beaten bloody, so yelled at the bullies and sent them off to take care of you.

-          But you were too busy sobbing about Jason, pointing at the lake and telling her what they had did and that he hadn’t come out.

-          You could never remember the noises Pamela made when she believed her son had died, and you left camp that evening as the bullying so was bad and the apparent death lead to the camps closing that year and the next few years.

-          You never looked back to the camp, and as the years passed the memories of Jason became another faint memory, though you did think of the sweet boy who had brought you flowers and who was bullied just for being himself.

 -          When you heard about the killings at Camp Crystal Lake, you couldn’t have cared much since it was just a place of your past and the home of one of your worst memories.

-          But some of your coworkers or classmates knew of your past there, having heard the story of you going there when it closed down somehow, so they pressured you to go with them to explore the area.

-          You found it idiotic to go where multiple murders had happened, but you had planned on going for a little bit and sneaking away and leaving when they weren’t looking.

-          Your coworkers or classmates acted like it was some kind of ghost hunt, too busy ooing and aahing at the buildings and the lake itself, so you could easily slip away into the woods. But as you snuck away you got far enough away to not be able to hear the sounds of your coworkers or classmates being killed.

-          You ended up getting lost in the forest, cursing softly under your breath as you stomped through the undergrowth and away from where you assumed the people you had came with were too busy acting like actual murders were just a cryptid story.

-          When you got caught in a trap you immediately cursed louder, your legs being tied together and sending you falling to the leaf covered ground. You were lucky you always carried a pocket knife so you got to work freeing your legs, too busy to notice the footsteps nearing you.

 -          You had just gotten your legs free and rolled to the side just in time for a machete to slash the ground where you had just been. Your heart leapt into your throat as you snapped your eyes up to see the large hockey masked giant, covered in blood and wielding the machete he had just tried to kill you with.

-          Instead of running like other victims, to Jasons surprise you immediately went into fight mode and somehow got the machete away from him, using your pocketknife to fight him off.

-          Your fighting continued, ending with you both on the floor with you pressed down against the wet forest floor with Jasons hulking frame above you with his large hands wrapped around your throat and squeezing, trying to choke you to death.

-          You choked and wheezed, clawing at his hands and arms to try and free yourself as you had lost your knife somewhere during the fight. How great that you would die in the exact same forest as Jason.

-          At some point you wheezed that you wouldn’t die here like Jason did, to which Jason immediately loosened his hands in confusion as you knew his name. Using his surprise you nail him right in the face, making him stumble just enough to be able to flip yourself around and struggle to your feet, still weak from almost being suffocated to death.

-          You raise shaky fists Infront of yourself as Jason slowly gets to his feet, but he doesn’t come at you again like before, instead he slowly tilts his head and looks at you more deeply, letting his eyes run all over your face and body as if trying to place you.

 -          When he suddenly twitches and straightens up you tighten your muscles and get ready to fight more, even though you feel like your okay to pass out.

-          That’s when Jason lifts his large, scarred hands and starts signing, moving faster than your way out of training brain can keep up with. That along with the horrible headache you were sporting made it impossible to understand him.

-          Seeing your struggle he slows his signing down, and uses a special sign he had made up to refer to you instead of having to sign your name. That was a sign you could recognize as only Jason used that when you were children, so you look at the killer with confusion.

-          When he signs it again and then signs his own name, you wheeze out a confused “Jason?” to which he happily nods. You are sure you must be dreaming or hallucinating, as you give a confused chuckle, the adrenaline in your body finally plummeting and making you pass out.

-          Jason lurches forwards and catches you, cradling you softly in his arms as if you are a fragile flower. He knows it’s a bad idea to bring you back to his own home, so he takes you to the tree you two always sat at as children and lays you down after checking to make sure you aren’t too banged up.

-          He quickly goes to clean himself up as much as he can with what he has, and goes out of his way to pick the same flowers he gave you as children to bring back to you.

 -          When you wake up alive and not dead, you lay in confusion for a while still feeling quite bad after almost being choked to death, and the shock that goes through your body as you notice Jason’s shape sitting in front of you immediately snaps you awake.

-          You try to back up only to hit the tree, which makes you finally realize where you are. That’s when Jason holds out the flowers to you, almost shyly, and it reminds you so much of that time he gave them to you as kids.

-          You can only stare at him in confusion for a while, the soft flicker of affection flaring up in your heart as if being revived from all those years ago.

-          When you don’t react or accept the flowers, Jason seems to curl in on himself a little, the hand holding the flowers lowering and he seems almost ashamed or regretful. So when you push yourself up and wrap your arms around you almost carefully, he makes a soft noise but soon returns the hug.

-          He hugs you very carefully, as if scared he will hurt you or break you in some way, but he holds you so dearly. He makes soft noises as if to tell you how much he’s missed you since you were the only one his age that ever treated him kindly.

-          You both just keep sitting there and holding each other, and at some point your position changes to you sitting in his lap and leaning against his chest as you arms are still around each other. You haven’t asked how he’s still alive or why he does what he does, but that doesn’t matter right now, you can always ask him that later.

-          All that matters is that he’s still alive and seems to still care about you in some way. So, you sit, watching the moonlight dance across the lake and the beautiful stars, held close to the chest of the man who was once your best friend. He was much larger and much more dangerous than before, but he still felt just like the Jason you remembered.