#i never realized how much anxiety my parents voices gave us until they came back after a week trip. gotta... hhh get used to that again...

[silent-sentinels]

when are you going to get it together.

PREFERABLY NEVER.

everything is only going to get worse as the days go by. you know this. you know this.

even obligation is scared like. jesusssssss...

it's just a phone call. it's just a phone call.

and it's still too much.

[goldenhaz]

Hi! Can I request a Rafe x reader.

Where reader is struggling a lot with depression or being sad (if ur comfy with that?) and rafe comforts her just alot of fluff 🥺

I love this idea 😫 I’ve been mentally unstable the last two weeks, so I am here for this. I hope you enjoy :) If anyone is ever struggling, I’m here for you❤️

Summary: Y/N has been really depressed lately, and she doesn’t have a thought to explain why. When her boyfriend realizes that she’s not her usual self, he’s there for her in a heartbeat <3

Warning(s): angst, slight suicidal thoughts, depression, anxiety, suicidal talk, LOTS AND LOTS of fluff

My head is a Jungle

Sadness. Depression. That feeling of being empty. That feeling of being so low that there’s nothing to motivate you of doing anything ever again.

I didn’t have a reason to feel depressed, but at the same time it was everything that gave me a reason to be. I didn’t have the motivation to go anywhere, do anything I loved to do.

I wanted to disappear. I wanted to leave this earth, and never return. Or maybe even go MIA on everyone until I’m okay again. Or maybe if they’re doing fine without me, just stay MIA. Either decision didn’t bug me. I would’ve been fine with both.

I hated how much of a jungle my head felt like. Nobody would ever want to be near me again if they knew what was going on inside my head.

“Y/N, please come down to eat, love.” My mom yells up in a sweet voice, causing my eyes to burn with tears. I didn’t want to leave my bed.

It has been a week. A week of laying in my bed, not going anywhere. I haven’t even had the energy to answer my messages from all my friends, and boyfriend especially. I only used my phone to listen to my music, and that was it.

I knew Rafe had become concerned with how his texts started sounding, but I also knew it wasn’t enough for him to completely have a heart attack.

My lack of appearance did that alone actually.

I sighed before slowly pushing my covers away, looking around my room. My clothes were all over the floor, my blinds shut so it was dark yet you could see the sunlight trying to peek through.

It was summertime. Which should’ve made my mental health skyrocket upwards instead of shooting downwards, but I just couldn’t feel or be okay.

I pulled my hood back over my face as I opened my door, sniffling slightly as I made my way down the steps slowly. I kept my AirPods in, putting my hands in my pockets.

I wasn’t even hungry. If I ate that meant I had to work off the calories. Which meant I had to be active.

I didn’t want to do shit.

When I got downstairs, I realized that the actual time of day looked as if it was almost sunset. I padded towards the kitchen, seeing my parents scurrying around.

Date night. No wonder.

If I wasn’t around, they wouldn’t have to worry about making my dinner, or even my presence in general. It would be easier for them. Everything would be.

My mom turned to face me, a sad but concerned expression on her face when she saw my state. I took my AirPods out, feeling even more empty than I already was.

“Honey,” she sighs, coming over to hug me tight. I should’ve loved the feeling of being loved by my mom, but that voice inside of me was telling me she had to love me. I was her child, she had to.

I hugged her back as an answer, she lets go a few moments later before looking me in the eyes. “Dad and I made your favorite. It’s nice and warm, just came out of the oven,” she explains, motioning to the steam coming off the meal on the stove.

She turns to look back at me. “We are also going to pick up your favorite sweets after our reservations.” She says with a soft smile. My dad comes over to hug me tight, my mom joining.

“We love you. More than you know,” my dad mutters into my ear before kissing the top of my head. They soon break the group hug and leave the large house, leaving me by myself.

I sighed as I looked over to the meal I used to absolutely love, not feeling hungry by the sight and smell of it. It just wasn’t something I wanted. I wanted to go back upstairs into my bed, and hide away from the world. Hide forever. Maybe leave the world forever.

Unfortunately I am not that lucky.

I could feel the tears beginning to form once again, my darker thoughts starting to cave in as I tried to shake them away. Why can’t I be okay? Why can’t I just be normal? Be happy?

I let my body slump onto the hardwood floors, my head dropping the floor. My AirPods fell from my hands, not wanting to hold onto anything anymore. I wanted to disappear. Leave the world forever. Never see the light again.

“Babe?” I heard my boyfriend’s voice say. I didn’t even notice his presence had come into the house, too zoned out of the world to want to notice. His footsteps got closer to the kitchen, the sound of his steps stomping abruptly.

I didn’t even bear to look up at him. Knowing if I did, I wouldn’t be able to talk. “Baby,” he sighs slightly, coming over to me before bending down to my level.

I shook my head, I couldn’t do this. Not right now. He shouldn’t be seeing me like this. “You shouldn’t be here,” I say, noticing my voice is completely hoarse and dry.

I hear him sigh. He is quiet for a few moments, then I see his hand come into contact with my chin to lift it so I was looking at him.

When I met his eyes, I could see the concern and sadness across them. “Y/n/n,” he says, making my bottom lip quiver.

“I hate it here, Rafe. I don’t want to be here anymore,” I begin to sob, Rafe immediately scooting to my side to wrap his arms around my waist. I let his arms comfort me, his warmth making my tense muscle sooth as he caressed my arms.

“Can I ask why?” He asks cautiously.

“I don’t have a reason. I’m just not happy. I don’t want to be like this anymore, I don’t care what it takes. I hate this feeling, Rafe. I hate feeling so empty, like nothing will ever be good anymore.” I cry, hearing Rafe sigh while he kisses my head multiple times.

He lets me cry in his arms on my kitchen floor, for what feels like hours, but is only a few minutes. He then takes his arms out from around my waist, putting one around my back and one under my knees before lifting me up.

I let him carry me wherever he was going to go, which was to my kitchen where the meal my parents made for me. He set me softly on the counter, his eyes never leaving mine. He puts his hands on my hips, caressing them soothingly as I calm down from my breakdown.

“Well I’m not entirely sure how I can help, but I want to help however I can. So let me say my truth,” he questions me softly, making me nod as I wipe under my eyes.

Rafe uses a hand to take my hood down, exposing my rats nest of a head of hair. “I want you to know that I want you here. I want you existing. Because without you, without your presence, or your smile, your laugh, or even your terrible jokes that are a bit funny,” he jokes, making me smile a little. His eyes pour into my own.

“I wouldn’t have changed to who I am now. I wouldn’t have become better without you. It wasn’t because of my dad, or Sarah, or Wheeze. It was because you were there every step of the way as I became sober. Became okay. Because of you, I know how to love, how to care, how to be somewhat normal. I love you. I love everything about you. Your happy days, your harder days or weeks like today, I just love you.” He says, making my mouth slowly part to a smile. He smiles back just as much, rubbing my sides up and down with a reassuring squeeze.

“I love you, so so so much. I promise you that I’ll be here in every waking moment, until you’re feeling like yourself again. I’m not leaving your side, so you’ll have to get used to me living here for a bit until I make you laugh as much as you used to.” He jokes, earning a small and slight chuckle from my lips.

Rafe smiles ear to ear hearing my small noise, kissing all over my face before planting his lips softly on mine. “There’s the laugh I love hearing. Music to my ears.” He chuckles, kissing me a few more times.

He holds me for a few more moments before looking back at the food that was still steaming.

“How about we try to eat some of this amazing smelling food I see? Get something in this tummy of yours? We can bring it upstairs and we can just lay together and try to get you to eat?”

I smile with a slight nod, thanking him with one more kiss to his cheek and he hugs me tight.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Broken trust, pt.6/finale

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five 

Summary: Inside the fold, Y/N and the Darkling face off.

Warnings: angst, fluff sprinkled on top, indicating smut

========================

When she was a child, Y/N feared the darkness. Every night she would lay awake with a candle by her side, too scared to close her eyes. She feared the unspoken horrors that occurred under the cloak of darkness, of one day finding herself in peril as well. The fold fueled such fears, especially when the boys in the orphanage would speak of the Volcra. She had heard the descriptions, the vile appearances and inhuman deeds they’re capable of. They haunted her when she closed her eyes, wondering if that’s what killed her parents.

Y/N still fears the dark, just of a different kind.

She fears the darkness that resides in humans, the kind that’s lurking under the surface yet remains invisible to the naked eye. At any point, the darkness could surface and once it does, it would swallow anyone who stands in its way. Perhaps that’s where her trust issues stem from, the corruption of human hearts. People are wicked, using everything, even love, for their selfish desires.

In truth, she should have seen it before.

Aleksander Morozova should have been a clear danger for her heart right from the moment they met in that dark tent where she wondered how anyone could be comfortable in such an environment. A powerful, handsome man with a silver tongue and a weakness for her had seduced her by simply paying attention. He looked at her like no man ever before – like she was the only one for him, a source of eternal sunshine.

She shouldn’t have allowed herself to be deceived.

A woman with trust issues and a fear of darkness fell in love with a man who was darkness incarnated. He embodied all she dreaded and yet she couldn’t see beyond the mask of perfection he always kept in place. A part of her wondered if he ever showed who he truly is in those intimate moments they shared.

Throwing his head back, Aleksander laughed. His chest rose with a sharp intake of breath before it quaked with a new laugh erupting from deep inside.

“It’s not funny!” She pouted, trying to glare at him as if the sound of his laughter didn’t make her feel like she’s in a dream.

“You know I adore that pout”, Aleksander smirks, pinning her against the wall.

Breathless, her lips part just in time for Aleksander’s to take advantage. He gave a low, throaty chuckle once her knees turned to jelly and she collapsed against the strength of his arm behind her back. He bent, put his other arm beneath her knees. His mouth never leaves hers as he carries her to the bed. He abandoned her lips only to press them on her neck and she couldn’t believe how easily he swayed her.

Before long she could bear no more kissing. She ached all over and she pulled his hair to better meet his mouth. She fastened on his lips hungrily, greedily, ready to feel him inside her, around her, to completely numb her senses.

“Aren’t we eager today”, he teased her as he slowed down, determined to drawl out every moment he had with her.

“I can either be angry with you for laughing at me”, she trails off, her eyes flickering to his lips. “Or you can make me forget about the poor Grisha I flashed in your map room.”

Growling, he inhales sharply, “As amusing as it was to see you both scream, I prefer when you scream for me when we are alone.”

Rolling her eyes, she huffs, “I wanted to be spontaneous! How was I supposed to know someone else would be in the room?”

He picked up a lock of her hair from across her neck and held it up, letting the dim light of the fireplace play though the strands. He held it to his nose, then to his lips.

For the first time he could ever remember, he was completely content.

“What do you want us to do?” Ivan asks, finding the change in his general terrifying. He could see the Darkling is enraged, losing control and a Grisha powerful as he is could be lethal in such circumstances.

“You’ll do nothing”, Aleksander snapped as he mounted his horse. “I will go after her.”

He looks to his loyal Grisha with narrow eyes, aware he’ll return undoubtedly changed by whatever transpires inside the fold. Whether he returns with his Sun Summoner in hand or with her body in his arms, the Darkling would be different.

During his time with Y/N, Aleksander relied on her for happiness he long forgot about. He held onto her for as if she was all he had and she still abandoned him. They all do so once they see how far he’s ready to go in order to protect those he loves – his people….and her. He would have done anything for her.

This is his kingdom, but she’s not his queen anymore.

“We shall await for further instructions at the camp.”

Nodding, Aleksander turns away from them with a dark look on his face. For the first time since he created the fold, he will step inside and he didn’t know who would emerge victorious. If he dies, he won’t be around to care, but if she does? He was sure he will never be whole again.

He kissed the corner of her mouth boldly, waiting for a sign of resistance. Her hands pushed weakly against his shoulders but even at his slight touch, her eyes closed in surrender. 

Seeing her so, Aleksander smirked before he kissed her cheek, her ear lobe. Then, as she gasped for breath, his mouth came down on hers. His tongue sweetly touched the tip of hers and she drew back, startled. He smiled at her as if he understood how strange such affection is to her.

“Someone will see us”, she whines.

Shrugging, Aleksander’s smile grows wider, “Let them see.”

“Don’t you have a reputation of a hardass to preserve?” Her lips press into a thin line as her eyebrows rise, tantalizing him.

His eyes are nearly black as he pulls her to him again. He ran his tongue along her lips, touching the inner corners especially. She parted her teeth for him, desperate for a taste of him. He was better than the richest honey; hot and cold, soft and firm. She explored his mouth as he had explored hers, no longer shy or reserved with him.

Parting in desperate need of a proper breath, he looks at her rosy, swollen lips with complete resignation.

“My reputation means nothing to me when you’re with me. You are what I want my reputation to be.”

Panting, Y/N felt like her lungs would explode. She had been running from the edge of the fold, deep into the darkness she once feared. She ran because she wasn’t sure if Aleksander was furious enough to disregard his own safety by following her inside.

Lips quivering, she pulls out the flask Mal packed for her. Taking a sip, she frowns at the watered down taste of alcohol. She made it clear she wanted nothing but water, yet Mal disregarded her wish. Shaking her head, she smiles anyway. If Mal was with her, she’d thank him for the liquid courage. She’d have agreed to a bottle of whiskey now, lost in the dark.

Swept away in her thoughts, she gasps at the growling in the distance. Her heart nearly stops as a dark, looming shadow passes above her. She whips around as the growls come from behind her as well.

She passed sixteen markers, but she hoped to get to the eighteenth. She planned to get as close to the middle as humanly possible, but wasn’t this just it? If she kept going, nothing could guarantee her safety and she was deep enough inside the fold to at least try. 

Every night she laid awake in the past year was spent with her strengthening her light, her control. 

This was it – she could do it. 

She had to do it.

Releasing a shaky breath, Y/N folds her hands before her. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath as she parts her hands at the palms.

“I wouldn’t do that”, a painfully familiar voice sounds and her eyes open wide.

“Or you’ll kill me?” She laughs, unable to stop herself. It’s a laugh made from pure anxiety and hurt, one that made her feel like she’s mad. Her habit of laughing when she feels like she’s got nothing left to lose came rarely; the first time it happened was when she learned her parents have succumbed to the very fold she’s in now. She reckoned this would be the last time.

“I don’t want to but, if you do not submit to me –“, Aleksander starts, coming closer slowly as if she was a doe and he the hunter. Every sudden move could frighten her and he didn’t want to face what happens in that case.

“Kill me if you must but I will not submit to you, or any man who wears his crimes like crown jewels!”

Raising her voice had drawn the Volcra, the growling growing louder.

"Is it so wrong for me to want to save you?" Sniffling, Y/N swallows thickly. She couldn’t cry anymore, there were no tears left to cry. She’s dry, inside out. “Things could have been different, you know? You didn't have to fall so far.”

Lifting his chin, Aleksander took a step further in her direction. Catching the slightest shake of her head, he pauses, arms raised in mock surrender.

“You made me love you”, he speaks through gritted teeth, “To depend on you.” He clenches his jaw, his patience wearing thin. “Now you’re trying to take the last piece of my sanity with you.”

“You don’t have to do this”, she tries meekly, “We can still be magnificent. Be the man I fell in love with, please.”

“And then what? We’re supposed to play house while they’re killing our people?!” Aleksander spat, barely holding himself back. “They wouldn’t stop until they kill you right before me and any children we might have!”

Eyebrows knitted together, Y/N’s mouth opens at the words spoken. There was a moment when Y/N realized she’d misinterpreted her darling Darkling’s actions, his words, his expressions from the moment they met… as if he’d been speaking a language she couldn’t understand… that moment was the moment her heart broke…She could hardly speak in her shock when she learned he had lied to her, but this shockingly defining moment was much different than that first moment.

“Children”, she breathes out as a smile forms on her lips, one he found confusing.

All this time, Aleksander had been using the fold as a way to protect his people and yet, he failed to realize it is exactly what they need to destroy.

“We don’t need the fold”, her smile widens, “You are the fold, my darling Darkling and I am your Sun.” Her lips quiver, her entire body trembles and she still comes closer to him without fear. “With the two of us, we can create and destroy this fold anywhere in the world and today is our chance to demonstrate our power to all those who’d dare to defy us!”

Lips parting, he shakes his head. “What are you saying”, he sneers, still angry at her for defying him.

“I’m saying it doesn’t have to be one way or the other”, she chuckles in disbelief, “We can both destroy the fold and win this war. Every war.”

The growling is near, close enough for the hair to stand on the back of Y/N’s neck.

“Don’t”, he orders as her hands touch, “Don’t you dare!”

Shakily lifting her head, Y/N smiles, "I love you".

Before he has time to comprehend the weight of her words, his world was set aflame by a blinding light exploding all around him.

She screamed out as a bright light emerged from her entire being, enveloping her like a lover’s embrace. It is the kind of brightness that enchants the eyes to open all the wider as it warms the skin.

She never felt the warmth like this, not even when Aleksander’s lips gave her breath or when his arms gave her a reason to believe in him. This warmth is different, like the sun had incorporated itself into her soul and is finally shining through.

She looks to her hands, opening the fists that glow an ethereal light force she never experienced. Her light is like sunlight, it comes as woven strands, free and united, and flowing as it reveals and solidifies, making the world of nightmares around them into something so beautiful. 

Her eyes meet Aleksander’s dazed gaze, her smile wide but his lips are set in a firm line. 

She could feel her soul ripping as she pushed the light further from them, toward the edges. The pressure in her head grew, erasing the smile from her lips. Her legs barely kept her standing as she stumbles. She could feel a wet liquid running from her nose to her lips, the metallic taste making her eyes widen.

“You’ll kill yourself if you keep this up!” Aleksander shouts, trying to make her see sense but she shakes her head.

“I have to do this! For us!”

He could see a vein pulsating across her forehead, the blood gushing from her nose and it slowly became clear to him – he might not have been able to kill her, but seeing her like this convinced him he doesn’t have to. She’ll do it all on her own.

Reaching for her, his hands wrap around her wrists firmly. “I love you too”, he rests his forehead on hers, amplifying her power. He could feel her smile for a split second before she closed her eyes.

Gasping for air, she felt her insides burning and before she could stop herself, Y/N’s bloodcurdling scream echoed in the fold, effectively stopping his heart in fright.

As her scream dies down, Y/N goes limp in Aleksander’s arms.

Her light disappears, another one taking its place as he lowers to his knees, holding her close to him. Looking up, he almost cries as the blue skies above shine a light on his face. 

“You did it”, he croaks, shaking her slightly. “Solntse? Solnechnyy svet?!”

Unmoving, Y/N laid in his embrace as if she had simply fallen asleep, but Aleksander knew she was hanging by a thread.

“Lyubov’?” His voice breaks the self-imposed sternness, his fingers clutching the fabric of her kefta…He didn’t even realize she kept it. 

She must have put it on inside the fold, he realized.

Now, in the light of day, he finally saw the black kefta he ordered to be made for her – black with golden traces of the light she brought in his life. It was fitting she’d be given powers of light for she was the embodiment of lightning, illuminating stormy skies he couldn’t navigate through. Not on his own.

“Wake up”, he whispers. “I need you”, the raspiness of his voice and the cracks are enough testimony for the break inside his chest.

“I can’t survive without you”, he bowed his head down, a choked sob escaping him.

“I love you.” Aleksander whispered into her chest, breaking down when she didn’t say it back. Y/N always chose to say ‘I love you’ instead of goodbye, explaining goodbye was the last thing she ever wanted to tell him and he understood now. He never wanted to tell her goodbye, but maybe that’s necessary too. Maybe life is about learning a better way to say goodbye, learn to let go of the ones you love with nothing but love.

“Aleks”, she tries but the words are stuck in the back of her throat as her need to breathe becomes direr.

“Saints!” He presses his lips as he looks up at her, just as breathless as he was the day when he first saw her. “What can I do? Tell me how can I help you?!”

“All this time I’ve blamed you”, her hand rests upon his cheek, “For pulling me into the dark”, she pauses, “But I was wrong.” Wetting her lips, she manages a small smile, “It was me who brought out your dark side.”

She averts her gaze, hating the vulnerability in her voice as he takes her hand in his, inspecting the ring he gifted her with a crooked smile.

“None of it matters now”, he rests his forehead on hers, “I love you with all I am and I never want to feel like this again.”

“Look at me.” He’s not asking, rather demanding and she can feel the subtle difference just as she can feel his warm hand wrap around hers.

“Gladly”, she chuckles as he helps her sit. None of her hate for him remained. Love…hate, it was always a fine line to walk on and she finally settled on a side – his side.

Saying I love you is the bravest thing he has ever done in his life, for it took every ounce of strength and courage to openly expose his feelings to the love of his life, to put his heart on the line time and time again after all the times she walked away. He knew he didn’t deserve her as she’s always been too good for him, but he swore he’d spend the rest of his life building himself up to be the kind of man she’d be proud of.

“I love you”, he kisses the palm of her hand, giving her enough time to say it back.

“And I love you. I promise you, we will be unstoppable. Together, hand in hand, nothing will dare stand in our way.”

As soul meets soul in a lover’s kiss, the two embrace in the midst of a desert made of ruin they would find a way to rebuild. Their story is far from over, but this time around, they’ll write it together – as equal parts of a whole.

 Tags: @blackbirddaredevil23 @subjecta13-thefangirl @aquamariene-me​ @savannah-elliott @auggie2000 @daybleedsintonightfa11 

[shirakumos-sandwich-shop]

❄️Arranged Marriage ❄️

SCARAMOCHE X FEM READER X TARTAGLIA

Part 1.

You caressed the delicate petals of the newly bloomed silk flower. It was much too cold in snezhnaya for such a plant to exist but with the gentle coaks of your dendro vision all the buds on the exquisite bush unfurled their petals. The warm sweet scent from the flowers contrasted dramatically with the flurries of snow you could see outside of the humid greenhouse. This is where you were happiest, in the small glass building behind your parents’ mansion. Here you could be alone to study your beloved plants as much as you wished. You collected the seeds from the silk flower for replanting. The door behind you creaked open letting in a burst of cold.

“For goodness sake close the door, it will damage the plants!” You spun around to confront the maid that had entered. The girl jumped to close the door behind her.

“I’m sorry for yelling, just please be careful. I’m working on a new specimen.”

“It’s alright Miss Y/n, I’ll be more careful next time.” She stepped forward. “Miss, your parents wish to speak with you about an important matter. They said for you to come right away.”

“Whatever it is, they can wait till I’ve finished collecting these seeds.” You returned to your meticulous work.

“They said right away Miss y/n.” The maid said urgently.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming.” You tucked the last of the seeds safely away in a drawer and pulled on your warm fur lined coat. You followed your maid out and carefully closed the greenhouse door behind you. Trudging through the snow to the large house.

You found your parents quietly discussing some important matter in your father’s study. As you entered the room they stopped talking and looked at you.

“Y/n, I told you to come quickly, yet here we are waiting around for you.” Your mother said forcefully.

“It’s alright y/n,” your father interrupted. “Have a seat.”

“What’s this about?” You asked while sitting in the uncomfortable wooden chair.

“Should you begin or should I?” Your father asked your mother.

“You tell her, she listens to you, not me.” Your mother said grumpily.

“Well, your mother,”

“And your father.” Your mother interrupted.

“Yes, and I.” Your father spoke patiently. “We have decided it’s time for you to get married.”

Silence deadened the room as you stared at them in shock.

“….what?” Is all you could say. You had expected something like this to happen at some point but it was still a surprise.

“Yes y/n, it’s time for you to finally do something for this family. I will not allow you to fritter away your days like you have been.” Your mother chided.

“I’ve been studying! Not frittering away anything!” You raised your voice.

“Don’t speak to me like that! It’s all planned, we have a suitable young man already chosen.”

“I don’t even get to decide who it is?” You sputtered, standing up out of the chair.

“Y/n,” your father broke in tiredly. “Sit down.” You did as he asked. “I do think this is the best thing for you. I wouldn’t let it happen if I didn’t think so.”

Hot tears were threatening to burn your eyes now.

“If it makes you feel better he has not completely given his answer yet. He has his own conditions.”

“What are they? You're supposed to give him loads of money or something?”

“No,” your father chuckled. “Nothing like that. He wants to meet you, but anonymously. Tomorrow there is a celebration being held in honor of the Tsaritsa. He asked for you to come so he can meet you.”

“I won’t know who he is? Is that it?” You asked.

“Exactly.”

“How cliche…” you sighed.

“After he has met you, he will give us his final answer.”

“You better be on your best behavior tomorrow.” Your mother scolded you like you had already set the table clothes at the celebration on fire.

There was no escaping it, once your mother had her mind made up she wouldn’t stop until you gave in.

“Fine…” you got up and left the room.

———

Your mother had micromanaged your whole day leading up to the celebration. Your hair had been arranged, taken down, and rearranged so many times your head was aching. Yet she was never satisfied. You utterly rejected the frilly pink monstrosity that was the dress she had prepared. Once you threatened to vomit on the dress you finally had your way. You chose from your extensive closet a long gray dress with embroidered lavender flowers. Your dendro vision hung on your back. Night was beginning to fall and your mother was rushing you out the door.

The party reminded you of a ball out of a fairytale. You would have enjoyed the visual splendor if not for the anxiety growing in your gut. Your parents made their way through the crowds chatting and greeting random equantances. You headed off by yourself to find an empty table to sit at.

“Y/n!” A cheery voice said behind you. You turned to see your childhood friend Childe running up to you. “Fancy meeting you here?” He flirted.

“Oh shut up Tartaglia.” You nudged his side and he chuckled. He held out his hand to you.

“Well?” He said.

“What?”

“Aren’t we dancing?” He questioned.

“Ugh fine.” You rolled your eyes. As soon as you took his offered hand he whisked you onto the dance floor into an energetic waltz. Is the waltz supposed to be energetic?

He occupied your time with friendly chatting. You slowly became more comfortable with the whole situation, he always had that effect on you.

Could he be the one my parents were talking about?

Doubtful, why would he have needed to meet me first then. But… maybe, it could be. You dared to hope it was. The thought of marrying him was oddly comforting.

“Whatcha thinking about?” He asked curiously.

“Oh uh… nothing.” Your cheeks blushed at the thoughts you were just having.

“You were thinking about me huh?” He pinched your cheek teasingly.

“No! Shut up!” You huffed. “Just a lot on my mind is all.”

Should I tell him about the marriage?

You decided against it. It wasn’t even official yet.

“Can I sit down? I’m pretty tired out now.” You told him.

“Sure, y/n.” He led you to an empty seat next to the dance floor. Immediately someone who looked vaguely important started talking to him. He was a harbinger after all, many things occupied his time now.

“Y/n,” Tartaglia caught your attention. “I need to take care of something. I’ll be back okay?”

“Okay, see you soon.” You gave him a smile and you noticed a dusting of pink appeared on his cheeks. He spun around and left you alone once more.

Time passed slowly. You watched the people dancing and sipped on a cup of Monstat’s dandelion wine. Several men came up to you in this time and asked for a dance. You declined them all. If one of them was your potential fiancé you hoped he had been turned off for good. The touch of a hand lifting your vision from your back startled you and you wiped around. A man with dark purple hair and startling violet eyes raised an eyebrow at you.

“A dendro vision.” He said simply, running his finger over the green glassy surface of your vision. “Very unusual.”

“Yes? what about it?” You snapped. “Would you give it back please.” You held out your hand, you were almost surprised when he placed it into your palm.

“Not many people have those. I’ve only seen one, maybe two.” The unknown male said.

“So what?” You glared at him.

He smirked at your hostility. You found him oddly familiar, you knew you had seen him before but couldn’t place him. He walked over and sat next to you.

“Who are you?” He questioned.

“Why do you want to know?” You folded your arms.

“Because I’m interested.”

“In what? Me or my vision?”

“Both.” He said decidedly. He leaned back in his chair and unbuttoned his suit jacket. His questioning stare bore into you.

“Well?” He said.

“Y/n L/n.” You looked away quickly. In doing so you missed the sudden surprised expression on his face.

“I’m Scaramoche.” He said.

The realization of who you were sitting next to dawned on you.

“6th of the Fatui Harbingers?” You finished for him.

“You know who I am then?”

“Only by reputation.” You stated.

He got up from his chair and stood in front of you. You tried to avoid his piercing gaze but to no avail. He held out his hand to you.

“Coming?” He said.

“What?”

“To dance? I’m not asking twice.”

~ IDK IF I WILL POST THE OTHER PARTS TO THIS OR NOT, IF YOU LIKE IT AND WANT MORE LET ME KNOW~

[i-like-sparkly-things]

Right in front of you

A Halstead!sister

Jay held a strong grip on your upper arm as he led you out to the school hall. "What the hell was that Y/N? Are you happy now? God.... I can't believe you cheated!" he sneered, "EYES UP HERE Y/N!! "

"I'm sorry" you sighed, locking eyes with Jay, silently praying that he would let this go. It was only one time anyway. It wasn't a big deal.

But he let out a hollow laugh, "Thirty percent, Y/N, THIRTY PERCENT. You're going to have to do better than a half-ass apology. What exactly are you sorry for? Huh? For cheating? Or being caught?"

Requested : Yes by @study-coffee-chicago : They found out she cheated on a test in high school...and Jay's the one who has to pick her up.

Warnings : angry!Jay (lots of it), alcohol, swearing, anxiety attacks

Note : I am so so so sorry this so longg 😭 I ended up so far away from the actual request kayela please don't block mee 😭 butt I've learned alot in writing abt active and passive voices and using more imagery Yayy!! I'm so glad that yall are ok with my grammar thank uu🥺

MASTERLIST HERE

The piles of homework and flashcards you needed to memorize had no end in sight, and now that Will was taking nightshifts along with his usual double shifts, and intelligence was tracking down an underground drug cartel, you spent most days alone, allowing your mind to engulf you.

Every time you sat down to study, you felt a striking pain in your chest. In mere seconds the air was sucked out of your lungs and you found yourself panting, desperate to get oxygen back into your body.

You would be surrounded by books and worksheets and you could swear the walls of your room were closing in towards you, trapping you in a sea of incomplete work.

You failed to follow the schedules and to do lists you had made for yourself. Staring at them, hoping the essays would write themselves.

All you needed, was a break. A moment to relax from anything and everything.

So when your best friend mentioned that her brother used to drink a little before he appeared for an exam, your mind was quick to catch on.

Last night you had borrowed a little bit of beer from Jay's stash of alcohol and took a few sips of it as you studied.

The more you drank, the less bitter it became. It was a weird, new sensation, but it worked nonetheless.

Except now, you were sitting in the girls bathroom at school, ramaging through your notes, trying to recollect what you had learned yesterday.

You saw what you had underlined and highlighted— names in pink and important dates in yellow—but your mind came up blank.

Flipping the pages you saw people in wigs, and castles burning to the ground —None of which you recognized.

A wave of anxiety rippled through you unable to comprehend your next thought —you were going to fail.

Your head was throbbing as you ran a hand down face, massaging your temples trying to calm yourself down.

You took out your water bottle that you had filled with beer and swallowed a few gulps, hoping that it would help you think straight.

You groaned, feeling the sting of alcohol at the back of your throat, popping some mints into your mouth, you ran towards the exam hall.

***

Your foot bounced on the polished wood floors as sweat pooled on your forehead.

You thought you were careful —only taking a peek from your friends answer sheet when Mrs.Ling's back was facing you.

Everything would have worked out if it wasn't for that kid sitting behind you. In a split second your teacher turned around, when he dropped his pen, to see you peering over your partner's desk.

Now you were sitting in the principles office praying that Jay wouldn't be the one picking you up.

You could already imagine his anger at you for pulling him away from his case, only to find you cheated.

Unfortunately luck was not on your side today.

You dare not look at Jay as he entered the office, letting out a huff as he sat down. You could feel the rage emitting him, tension filling the room, as he burned holes looking at you.

"I'll get straight to the point" Your principal started.

"Please" Jay growled, struggling to contain himself. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, when he got the call saying that you had cheated on your midterms.

You and Will were alike,at least he thought so, both good at science and math but weak at geography and history. Nonetheless you continued to secure good grades for the most part.

"Y/n here, was caught cheating from a classmates answer sheet. Our teacher caught her red handed. I truly did not expect this from you. These midterms cost thirty percent of your grade..... "

Pretty soon his voice was muffled like he was getting farther and farther away from you. His figure swayed in front of you as you squinted your eyes to keep him in the center of your vision.

" You are suspended, Mrs halstead"

Your eyes widened , your body choosing the perfect time to bring out what little beer you had taken when you heard those words, letting the alcohol mix with the adrenaline.

"WHAT??!! " Damn, alcohol really bought out your courage as Jay stared at you in shock at your audacity.

"Y/n, your lucky I'm letting you retake the exam. That's only because you've had a clean record so far. I strongly suggest you start preparing early Ms. halstead" your principal said in a firm but monotone voice that left you speechless.

Jay held a strong grip on your upper arm as he led you out to the school hall. "What the hell was that Y/N? Are you happy now? God.... I can't believe you cheated!" he sneered, "EYES UP HERE Y/N!! "

Oh god. Every now and then, the ground would sway beneath you, tiles shifting in your vision. But you counted your steps, carefully putting one foot in front of the other, not wanting Jay to find out what else you had done........ until now.

You tilted your head, only to be met with your brother's piercing stare but little did he know, now it made it infinitely harder to concentrate on your walking.

"I'm sorry" you sighed, locking eyes with Jay, silently praying that he would let this go. It was only one time anyway. It wasn't a big deal.

But he let out a hollow laugh, "Thirty percent, Y/N, THIRTY PERCENT. You're going to have to do better than a half-ass apology. What exactly are you sorry for? Huh? For cheating? *Or being caught?*"

***

You rested your head on the seat as Jay entered the truck, flinching, when he slammed the door shut. Your pounding headache was getting worse by the minute, as your ears started to ring.

You blinked a few times squinting to focus on the road ahead of you but the fast-moving cars and the loud horns made you feel like your head was going to explode.

"Y/n," he addressed you, much calmer now.

You forced yourself to turn to your brother, who wore a confused expression.

But the moment he saw your deshelfed hair and your cracked lips, a wave of worry crashed over him. What the hell?

The truck came to a stop at a red light and Jay immediately scanned you over "Y/n?" he grabbed your chin, his jaw dropping, as he came face to face with reality.

"Are you drunk!!?" he barked , steam basically pouring out of his ears.

But your pleading eyes and empty silence gave him the answer he needed. "Are you kidding me??" he snarled as he slammed the steering wheel.

Oh God no. A blinding pain ripped through your head when Jay's palms made contact with the hard plastic. You winched turning your head away from your furious brother, letting out a whimper.

Jay's eyes widened at the sound, his heart breaking, realizing the pain you were in.

If he was going to be mad at you or at least punish you, you needed to be sober.

He stepped on the pedal as the light turned green taking a few breaths, trying to calm himself down.

With the vice lords reclaiming their territory and selling uncut fentanyl, bodies were dropping all over the city most of them being kids.

Kids..... your age.

Every kid at the morgue, just reminded him of you. He saw parents sobbing, begging for their kids to come back but Jay new better. They were never going to come home. Ever.

So he made it a priority to catch these ruthless creatures. He made it a priority over his sleep, over nine hours shifts and unknown to him, over spending time with you.

"Hey , hey" he whispered, not wanting to hurt you again, "We'll talk about this later ok? for now...... just..... it's ok..... I've got you" here reached out his hand, the other still on the steering wheel, to slowly rub your back as you tried to breath through the pain.

" I got you"

***

Jay wrapped a hand around you allowing you to hold onto him for support.

Silently, he deposited you on the couch, laying you down. He knew that he wasn't in any state to talk to you. He needed to clear his mind from his racing thoughts and rueful images of dying teenagers.

His phone rang, indicating that the district was awaiting him. "Here" he reluctantly shook your shoulders "Y/n, I need to go ok? Will will be here soon"

***

Almost half an hour had passed and you were waiting for Will to get out of the shower. You'd heard Jay explain everything to him over the phone.

You thought about how disappointed he would be.

Will —being the nerd he was— always helped you with your projects and gave you pop quizzes during breakfast, before your exams. He taught you how to organize flashcards just like he did in med school.

Even through your blurry thoughts, the image of Will's betrayed face and embarrassed eyes, knowing you cheated, lingered on your mind.

Your body was all over the place. Tiny noises echoing through your ear. Your muscles simultaneously aching and loose.

You were shivering as you tried to curl up into a ball. Your body trying to hold what little heat it had within itself.

But nothing stopped your tears.

You felt water drops make their way down your cheeks forming small splotches of water on the cushion you laid your head on.

And you didn't bother to wipe them away.

Will more or less was in the same state you were in. There was a multi-vehicle accident on the highway and victims were piling in the ED. He was running from one treatment room to the other, waiting to get back home and crash.

Will walked over to you with a huge glass of water and an advil, gently  nudging you to sit up.

Your head still pounded, your eyes zoning in and out of the figure in front of you "Y/n, here drink the whole glass and take this" Will soothed, placing the glass and the pill in your hand "I—I'm sorry" You whispered, distracting yourself from Will's eyes.

Will knew he should be angry. Just like Jay was but he couldn't bring himself to blaming you, not until he had the full story anyway.

You looked so petite on the enormous couch, your legs folded on top of each other, arms shaking as you drowned the glass of water along with the Advil.

Your red puffy eyes and tear strained cheeks,were a contrast from your usual self. or he thinks. He's been pretty busy lately, so he's not too sure. " We'll talk about it later. I'm not angry. I promise"

He assured and was about to head to bed himself when you grabbed his wrist.

If he wasn't angry at you then maybe— just maybe—he would help you.

"Stay" You pleaded , the word falling from your lips just as easily as it had, many, many times before.

And just like before, you were met with Will's soft brown eyes filled with sympathy, ready to help. Ready—to be by your side.

He's slowly nodded climbing onto the couch, next to you. He wrapped an arm around you and you nestled into him, laying your head on his chest.

You found some comfort as he embraced you, talking you under his arm and encompassing you in his warmth.

Holding on to him, you hoped that he would take your pain away, just like he did when you were little.

***

Will woke up to an uncomfortable feeling of something —or someone—   tugging at his shirt.

He slowly opened his eyes allowing them to adjust to the light as he felt another a tug at his side. He looked over to you, but your eyes were shut, brimming with tears, your arm laid across his chest.

You were holding on to Will , using him as a lifeline, grounding you from the pain.

You felt a hand squeezing your own, stopping you from gripping the fabric "Y/n?" You opened your eyes to look up at will who had tears of his own, staring at the state you were in "it's okay, I'm here, I'm right here"

He encircles you, tighter than before, whispering soothing assurances into your hair.

***

With Will's help, the pain slowly subsides, allowing you access to your thoughts again.

You step out of the shower, into the living room and your eyes widen seeing Jay and Will sitting at the kitchen counter.

You didn't even hear Jay come in, but right now taking in his hardened glare, you didn't dare ask.

You knew what was coming and you didn't fight. You couldn't.

"So apparently we're cheating on our midterms now, huh?" Jay's calm voice made shivers run down your spine, starting to take rapid breaths.

"And apparently, someone thinks it's ok to steal alcohol from my stash" He gritted, never breaking I contact with you. "Do you think that's how the world works Y/n? DO YOU? BECAUSE LAST TIME I CHECKED YOU'RE STILL A FUCKING TEENAGER!!" He spat, his thoughts fuming towards your trembling body.

It was every dieing body flashing before his eyes, as the past months' agony slipped off his tongue.

"Jay" Will's voice was stern, giving a knowing look towards his younger brother and didn't bother to give Jay time to argue with him.

"Y/n, we need to know what's going on"

"With school, with tests with....... everything" he stated giving you a solemn look meaning every word he said, promising himself that he would do whatever it takes to figure out what had been going on.

You sucked in a breath weighing all your options. You didn't want them to think that you needed a babysitter or  that you couldn't take care of yourself.

You knew that they had their own problems to worry about but you couldn't take it anymore.

You hated it.

The feeling of your lungs collapsing, struggling to find air for your body, your stress skyrocketing anytime you sat down to study, never getting any thing done.

All day long you would constantly tell yourself to do your work. Every spare second is spent in making a list of things you want to do but when it was time to actually do those things, your mind wandered and emptied.

You took another deep breath, looking up from your feet, your eyes meeting your brothers.

You spilled the past months events from how alone you were all the time and not being able to concentrate to how you ended up drunk at school and cheating on your midterms.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you your hands trembled. You stood crying in the middle of the room until you felt a pair of arms around you.

Will placed his hand at the nape of your neck as he stroked your back with the other "Breathe Y/n, just Breathe" He slowly pulled away leading you to the couch.

God, how he wished he could turn back time. Then he'd been more vigilant to notice the changes that had come over you.

You felt the couch dip on both sides but you intently studied your fingers, fumbling with the hem of your shirt and wiped the tears off your face. They were mad. No, they were furious. You knew it.

But for some reason, they weren't showing it. Maybe they were waiting-

"We're not mad"

You without your head around to look at Jay, furrowing your eyebrows in disbelief. Jay? Not mad? HA.

"but I am disappointed though, but that's only because you didn't tell us......

but stealing alcohol was bad too" he added, earning him a glare from Will.

"Y/n, what Jay means is— we could've helped with school . Homework . Tests . Anything, you name it. We will help" he assured, "But how do we know you need help, if you don't tell us?"

You sighed, taking in the weird turn of events that had happened before you. You had wasted all this time, trying to figure out all your problems out, when the answer was right in front of you.

A mountain of guilt now sat on Jay's shoulders, weighing down on him, pushing him deeper into a wormhole of 'if's'.

Maybe if he'd just been a little more careful, this wouldn't have happened.

Maybe if he'd stop and listen to you once in a while, this wouldn't have happened.

While trying to save kids out on the street, he forgot to care for the kid at home. You were his sister, and yet, here you are in front of him, barely keeping yourself together.

But that would change. Right here. *Right now.*

"Y/n," Jay started "If you would have told us how alone and stressed you were feeling.....I would've taken some time off... Maybe we'd watch a movie or something. All you had to do was ask...... And we'll get you the help you need, y/n. You good with that?" he questioned, his anger and frustration dissipating.

You saw your brother, the workaholic detective, wanting to put his job aside, for you .

You were more important to him, than his job—You realized.

" Yea... Yeah, I am"

Will stood up and got another advil with another glass of water. "and maybe you wouldn't end up drunk and cheating on your test" he smirked, crouching in front of you.

"God, I didn't think it would hurt this bad. I am never drinking again!" you smiled , as you drowned the pill.

"See now that's what I like to hear!!" Jay exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you, squeezing you into his chest. You squirmed, trying to get out of his grip, laughing, when you were joined by Will.

You know what? Maybe, things are going to be okay? Ya know?

__________________________

Read more of my fics here!!

Tagging : @girlandthemoon @herecomesthewriterwitch @megaliciab @meyocoko @alkadri-layal

[mythiccheroacademia]

— what you fight about (pt.2)

𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟙

𝕙𝕠𝕥 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤: 𝕚’𝕞 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕤𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪.  𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕪'𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤. 𝕒𝕝𝕤𝕠 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕨𝕠 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕡𝕖𝕕 𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕣’𝕤 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕔𝕜 <𝟛 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: 𝕥𝕠𝕩𝕚𝕔 𝕓𝕖𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕣𝕤/𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡𝕤, 𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕒𝕥 ℙ𝕋𝕊𝔻, 𝕒𝕟𝕩𝕚𝕖𝕥𝕪, 𝕡𝕖𝕠𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕪 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕗𝕗 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪’𝕣𝕖 𝕦𝕡𝕤𝕖𝕥 :/

Tamaki Amajiki:

you love everything about tamaki

all his faults and his strengths

but sometimes…it feels like you’re the only one keeping it together

and to always be the strong one is hard

It had been a difficult two weeks since your last mission.

Perhaps you were naïve to believe you wouldn’t experience a death any time soon. However, you had been bright and hopeful. The hero you worked as a sidekick for rarely got involved in super-high level threats. You dealt with misdemeanors and a few moderate-sized threats.

Maybe you were being stupid. Nevertheless, the tragedy hit you hard. Both physically and mentally.

You were out until you could safely use your quirk again. In the meantime, your fiancé had done all he could to take care of you. But he was worried.

Tamaki couldn’t help but panic. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you better. Honestly, he wanted you back to normal. He just didn’t know how to do it. You were always the strength of the relationship.

He felt so pathetic over his inability to help, spending hours on the phone with Mirio and Neijre crying over the issue. Afterwards, he’d crawl into bed, cheeks wet with tears, and despite your sadness, you’d wrap your arms around him.

You’d comfort him like you always do and it’d make him feel even worse.

You knew he was trying his best and appreciated that. Though, there was a point to which it all got to be too much for you to handle.

Mirio and Neijre came over to help put up some Christmas decorations. You wanted to cancel. Today hadn’t been a good day. However, Amajiki began to worry over your mood again and so you held your thoughts to avoid his tears.

But it seemed like your tears were the ones you should’ve been worried about.

You sat down on a chair and held your head. The world was spinning, and your ears were ringing. Your eyes burned so badly you felt they’d melt out of your head.

“Bunny!?”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. “I just need a minute.”

“What can I do?” Tamaki rushed to kneel beside you, fear shining in his glossy eyes.

You shook you head balling your fist near your lips to keep in a cry. “I’m fine, baby,” you sniffed, but that was a lie.

Your head was swimming, buzzing, and filled with nothing but noise. No matter how hard you tried to make it go away, you just couldn’t. You couldn’t deal with that or—

“I-I’ll take care of you. Just p-please tell me what to do!” he begged. You could feel his anxiety seeping into your body and it nearly sent you over the edge.

“Tama, please.”

“I can—I can do something. Anything. Anything you want. An-and—"

All you could think about was how you failed the mission, the girl, her parents, your team, your friends, the public, and—

“Amajiki.”

“B-bunny, I know I haven’t been a good fiancé l-lately, but I-I promise I’ll—"

“AMAJIKI!”

Tamaki jumped, eyes wide and body frozen as he took in the near panic in your eyes.

“I CAN’T—” your voice was shrill before you hiccupped, choking back a sob. You squeezed the air by your head, hoping to ground yourself to something that wasn’t there.

“I just can’t deal with you right now, okay? I-I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Your breaths left in puffs as you silently watched his mind work to process your words, and when it did, you saw his heart visibly break.

He grabbed his hand to cradle it into his chest like it was wounded. When he spoke, it was barely a whisper, not even a decibel above faint.

“N-no, it’s…I—I’ll give you some space.”

He tried to offer a brave smile, but it wobbled too much to do anything. The tears that ran down his cheeks seemed to suffocate him, and Tamaki couldn’t bite back his cry in time before he quickly left the room. Mirio worriedly gazed at you before running after his friend.

Your eyes remained transfixed on the space where your fiancé once stood. It wasn’t until moments later, when you felt Neijre’s comforting hands around your torso, that you doubled over and wept.

Togata Mirio:

he’s optimistic

too optimistic sometimes

you love the light he brings into your life

but it’s at the cost of him dismissing your feelings and worries

You checked the backseat when the car stopped at the red light to ensure your sleeping son was still there.  

“Two minutes and 20 seconds. That’s a new record babe,” Mirio chuckled.

“Very funny.” You threw an unimpressed glare at your husband before turning back into your seat. “But can you blame me? After the heart attack I had this morning, I wanna chain him to my chest and never let go.”

The blonde hero hummed thoughtfully. “That’s only slightly psychotic.”

“Mirio.”

“I’m kidding!”

You huffed and looked away. You were a bit annoyed over the nonchalance your husband seemed to have over what occurred today.

Your son had presented with a quirk and, to your horror, it was similar to Mirio’s—if not even more dangerous. When you came back to find your baby fading away before sinking into the ground, you screamed like murder.

Mirio had never phased into a room so quickly in his life.

After getting both you and your kid (mostly you) to calm down, you went straight to the hospital to make sure everything was still intact. They gave you some quirk inhibiting medication for your kid, a quick pep talk, and you were on your way back home.

The hectic morning made your son knock out as soon as he hit the car seat. You wanted to follow suit but were too paranoid to do so. In fact, you wanted to hold him—just in case. But Mirio insisted the medication would hold him until you got home. Then he cracked a joke about your kid turning into tumble weed and laughed like it was the funniest thing he ever said.

And he kept making jokes. Like this was funny.

Forget annoyed. It was pissing you off.

Mirio peeked a quick glance over your stiff figure. A small grin graced his lips, and he placed a comforting hand on your thigh.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I know you’re scared. I’ll chill with the jokes. Just promise not to blow a gasket on me, will ya?” he smiled.

You averted your eyes away from the moving tress to look at him well. “You could take this a little more seriously, you know?” you said.

“I assure you, I am 100% serious.”

He couldn’t even say that with a straight face. You rolled your eyes, groaning into your head tilt.

“Ooou you get on my nerves—”

“Sunshine, it’ll be fineee,” he happily assured. “It’ll just take some practice before [S/N] gets control of it.”

“[S/N] literally turns invisible before he permeates through surfaces. That’s so scary. I can’t do anything for him unless you're there and even then, that might not always work out. We need to figure something out.”

“His quirk is really not too far from mine. And you remember all the funny things that happened when I was a kid.”

You incredulously looked at him. “Yeah, all the funny near death experiences!”

“And I turned out fine!” Mirio laughed.

You wanted to rip your hair out. There was literally no getting through to him.

“Forget it. I don’t even know why I bother.” You scooted away from his hand, crossing your arms in frustration. “It’s not like you take my feelings seriously anyways.”

That last part was meant for your own ears, however Mirio heard them loud and clear. He turned into the neighborhood, brows subtly scrunching together.

“Now that’s not true. I care about that a lot actually.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Well that was not the answer he expected.

There were a couple minutes of uncomfortable silence before the car reached your garage and was turned off. You two looked forwards for a moment before someone spoke.

“I feel like we should talk about this,” Mirio slowly said, turning to watch for your reaction.

You gave him a glare that caused him to goofily purse his lips. You then got out of the car and went to go unstrap your son so you could hold him until the events of the morning faded from your mind.

As a last resort to make you smile, Mirio permeated his torso through his seat to give you the cheesiest grin.

“I love you, honey bunny~” he sung.

To which he earned a car door slammed in his face.

Dabi:

he’s selfish

you know it and he does too

yet you still stay around because you love him

but it seems like he couldn’t care less about whether or not you do

You impassively sat on the couch of your small apartment. Your hands were folded across your chest, teeth chattering against the raw skin underneath your nail bed. For a minute straight, your knee bounced in place before you stood up and took to pacing in order to release the energy bubbling in your chest.

It felt like hours before your apartment door opened.

Dabi threw his keys onto the closest surface and shrugged off his heavy jacket. You didn’t realize you’d moved before you took the jacket to hang on the wall.

“It’s cold as shit out there,” he shivered.

“Yeah, there’s supposed to be a blizzard sometime soon,” you replied, yet it sounded distant. However, Dabi didn’t seem to notice.

“Can’t wait,” he huffed. A mischievous glint grew in his eyes as he pulled you into his chest by your waist. Usually that would’ve made your thighs tense with anticipation. But all you could do was stand there like dead weight—and again, he didn’t notice. Did he ever? “But I guess it won’t be too bad if I have you to keep me warm, hm?” he smirked.

You stood stiff as he kissed your lips and tears burned your eyes as he moved to your neck, hands affectionately squeezing your hips. The bubbles in your chest rumbled and popped like angry bees when you realized he hadn’t noticed. He never noticed it. He never noticed anything about you. Just like he hadn’t noticed—

“Dabi, what day is it?”

His lips continued to pepper your skin with licks and nips, mindlessly working to find your sweet spot again. “Mmm…Thursday, sweetheart.”

“I’m being serious.”

“I am too.” Dabi looked up and met your stone cold face that looked angrier by the second. He quirked a brow. “What’s up with you?”

“It’s our one year anniversary, you asshole.”

You pushed him away, stomping towards your room. However, Dabi grabbed your arm, pulling you back into the conversation. But instead of hearing an apology, you received an inattentive eyeroll.

“Don’t be like that, doll-face. It’s really not that deep.”

“Excuse me?” you spat. “You said the same thing ever since our 6 month and I let it go, but now you wanna act like this isn’t a big deal? You know how much this means to me.”

“And you know that’s not my style. I don’t care about shit like that.”

“Well I do.” You moved out of his grasp and put distance between yourselves to help you think.

Dabi ran a hand through his hair, stress in his movements. “Are we really gonna do this right now, Y/N?”

“Yes! Because you don’t get it!”

Fed up with the argument already, Dabi threw his hands in the air, letting his frustration carry the words through his lips. It had been an awful day, his staples were aching from the weather, and this was making everything worse.  

“I already missed the damn thing, what do you want me to do!? You want me to say I’ll make up for it?”

“I want you to care, Dabi!” you desperately exclaimed. “I want you to care about me, about this relationship. Damn it, I want you to care about anything else besides what’s in my pants for once in your life—”

“Well that’s all I wanted until you started asking for more shit and I gave you that. What more do you want from me?” he sneered.

There was a silent pause between you two. You blankly stared at the man you’d come to love despite the hell he put you through. When you observed the honest irritation in his eyes, everything became clear. It was in that moment you realized it wasn’t that he never noticed. It was that he didn’t care. He never did.

That’s when you felt the deep ache of heartbreak nestle between your lungs.

“What more do I want from you,” you repeated, tasting the words. You numbly laughed and nodded your head, silently accepting his truth.

There were no tears, just bitter emptiness.

“Well, uh…you don’t have to worry about that anymore. You won’t be roped into another anniversary with me again.”

It was a moment too late when your soft whisper broke through the angry storm that clouded Dabi’s head. His face sunk with the exhaustion of a man well beyond his years.  

“Y/N, baby, can we just talk about this—"

“Leave the spare key on your way out.”

And before he could utter another word, you shut your bedroom door like it was never to be opened again.

[stoneworldsimp]

what’s mine is not yours —a request

platonic senku x reader

warnings: swearing, anxiety, talk of insecurities and worries, gender dysphoria

your name!

your name!

YOUR NAME!

your hands slapped to your ears, eyes shut tight. i can’t take this so early in the morning.

the voices from your dream had lingered longer than you would have liked. it reminded you it was time to face another day, to endure another long long day and night of hearing the wrong things.

maybe if i went and lived on my own again…i wouldn’t have to deal with it—no. senku needs me. he needs me…what does he need me for again? you rolled onto your stomach; your pillow rustled as you flopped it on top of your head. he doesn’t need me. i’d rather be lonely than hear everyone say some bullshit about me.

everyone in the village knew you as a miss. yuzuriha made you more neutral clothes upon request, but everyone assumed you were tomboyish. luckily, no one read more into it; it was nice to dress comfortably, but it was like no one else understood. why were they still calling you a girl? and the older folks, you knew they meant well! but you couldn’t help but feel like their constant “sweet girl”s were making fun of you at this point.

i can’t do it, i can’t do it, they’re making fun of me right now, as i think. as i exist!

you felt a tear trickle down the side of your nose.

oh, you’re kidding. crying? again? is this—

a knock on your door halted your thoughts; you quickly flipped back and sat up in your bed on the ground of your hut, and wiped your face quickly. you lightly slapped your cheeks to stop yourself from continuing crying.

“yeah.”

“it’s me. can i come in?”

senku’s voice brought some sort of relief; personally you felt it was better for him to come in at such a time than anyone else.

you took a deep breath. “sure, but i just woke up. i’m staying under my blanket.”

senku laughed behind the door. a small shove was made and it opened, revealing a quite chipper senku. he liked to come early in the morning when the rest of the village was quiet.

his smirk faltered once he saw your face. you believed you hid your crying well; you didn’t think to check your red eyes or stinging cheeks.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, his words much gentler than when he asked to come in.

damn. how could i not realize i was so obvious?

with a deep breath, you whispered, “senku.. we’re pretty good friends, right?”

he snickered. “of course we are, way more than that asshole gen.”

his voice was closer. you laughed as well, and wiped your eyes clear. he slowly walked over and sat down on the floor next to you. senku was looking at you, really looking at you; it was intense, almost if he was making sure his closeness or anything about his presence wasn’t bothering you.

“okay…i’m about to say a lot of stuff. let me know if you need me to explain more, or if i’m talking too much. or—“

your words halted as senku put a hand on your shoulder, a smile light on his face. “all ears.”

you smiled back softly. “okay. so—back in..our time,”you gestured between the two of you with your hands, “i told my family and friends i was, uhm… nonbinary. like i don’t feel male or female, i use they/them pronouns; all that good stuff. still feel that way now. and, for quite some time, they didn’t believe me. not in a direct ‘you’re lying’ way, but more of ‘i don’t understand it therefore you shouldn’t understand it’ type of thing. i got a lot of shit from people who weren’t my friends, too. but with my friends’ support and getting more confidence after coming out, my parents were able to kinda see it. but yeah, it took quite some time. probably like.. eight months? even then, i had to remind them constantly, ‘not a daughter. please don’t call me she or he. please don’t call me a woman.’ but we were getting there. and right when we got petrified, right when it happened, i saw the look on my mom’s face.

“we were talking about me and my identity and it was like something had clicked in her brain. like, she knew exactly what i meant and how i felt when i said what it meant to be nonbinary. i don’t even remember what i said specifically, but i remember her expression as if she were standing in front of me right now. i was so hopeful i’d see her again, her expression got me through my petrification and even helped me break out of it. but of COURSE, i didn’t ever see her again after i woke up. and then i almost lost my own sense of self after being by myself for probably a year.. i was under the assumption i’d never meet another person again, so when i did run into your village—i had this gross feeling of dread. and i realized it was the same feeling that basically lived inside of me before i came out.”

you sat up straighter and looked away from senku. “it’s like, i have to rebuild my identity all over again. people always say you shouldn’t care about what other people say, but i can’t help it. i’m a sensitive person. i get hurt easily, no matter how hard i try to thicken my skin. they all, they all just use ‘she’ and ‘her’ and ‘that girl’ so often, it feels like they’re making fun of me, like they’re constantly telling me i’m not who i say i am. and i can’t tell them senku, being nonbinary was confusing for so many people in our time, i hardly believe they’ll understand it now. sure, my parents were fine, but it took a while before they got it. i can only imagine how long it’ll take for everyone here.”

senku was quiet. have you over explained yourself? was it too overbearing? in all honesty you’d only been good friends with senku a short while; you should have waited at least a little bit longer before letting him in on something so personal—

“it all, it all kind of makes sense now.”

huh?! “what?”

“what you told me, i think i get it now.”

you gave him a look up and down. it was possible, but you didn’t think there was much of a chance that senku would be so..cool with it. not right away. you expected some form of silent treatment for at least a day or two, so he could collect his own thoughts.

“i’m gonna say something, and i need you to listen. yeah?”

you stared at him like your brain short-circuited. what the fuck is he gonna say to me.. oh god, he doesn’t wanna be friends anymore. but he’ll be too nice to kick me out of the village. but it is his village—

“hey, hey…are you with me?” you both sat facing each other now, and his hands rested on your shoulders.

just hear him out. “yeah. all ears.”

he smoothed your shoulders with his thumb. “you’re just as valid as everyone out there. i know you’re scared, but believe me when i say they will not be mocking you in any way. sure, it might take a while for them to understand, but theyre not going to give up just because they dont get something right away. it took me a few months to fully convince this village i could help them, and even then, there were still a few who didn’t fully understand the experiments and contraptions i made until a while later. i know that isn’t the same as your situation… but what i’m trying to say is that they will try their best to know you, the real you. they aren’t going to mock you; if anything, they’ll have lots of questions to ask you.

“also, you have me, you have gen to help out in case you don’t have the capacity to answer everything yourself. i’ve a few things about gender before the stone world, and gen definitely knows a lot of things that are relevant to it as well.

“everyone here… they’re all so eager to learn, i highly doubt they’ll be unaccepting. they’ll be curious. and they’ll be happy you’re letting them in on something that is so important.”

tears had made their way down your face and on your clothes halfway through his mini-monologue; you didn’t notice him continuously wiping them away until he was finished. “it’s going to be okay. trust me.”

with a quiet sob, you pushed yourself into his arms for a hug.

“thank you.”

you knew he wasn’t particularly one for any type of physical contact, but he gladly accepted. for the occasion, he thought. his arms slowly wrapped around your slightly shaking body as you tried to calm down. neither of you spoke for a few minutes; only your soft sniffles were heard in the hut.

“senku, i think that was the most i’ve heard you talk about something that wasn’t directly related to science,” you laughed into his neck.

he laughed back. “i had a lot saved, since there were moments i could tell you were kind of uncomfortable. i didn’t want to force you into talking about it either, so i just waited. tried to figure out what i was going to say. it had to be good.. you are one of my closest friends, after all.”

both of you embraced each other a little tighter. “i hope all of this helped, i want you to live here with none of those worries. especially after so many months of having it bottled inside.”

you nodded in response.

today.. today will be the day i tell everyone not to use what they used to call me; that won’t do at all anymore.

today, i’ll tell everyone my name.

[ray-ray-writings]

Family Fatality-Awesamdude

Gn!reader x Sam x Son!Tommyinnit …. It be angsty and sad with a happy ending. Also, does not follow what actually happened in the lore!

Small note: I think this is the last fic I’m going to write in first person. I think a lot of people enjoy the use of second person more and it’s also a bit easier for me to write in second person. The only reason that this fic is written in first is because it’s a part two and I want to keep it consistent. If you have thoughts about this, feel free to message me!!

Part One: Family Matters.

Check out my masterlist here

Y/N believed it was a bad idea from the beginning. Call it parental instincts. But unfortunately no one believed them… until it was too late. 

Y/N’s POV

I knew it was a bad idea. 

I should have listened to my gut. 

Tommy should have listened.

Sam should have listened. 

We should have known better. 

When Tommy told Sam and me that he wanted to visit Dream in prison, I instantly said no. That boy had been through so much trauma and manipulation because of that green wearing bastard, I didn’t want Dream to ever be able to see Tommy again. 

Sam was more into it. It was less of wanting Tommy to be able to see Dream and more he wanted an opportunity to show Tommy the prison. But he was for it. Sure he knew what Dream did to Tommy and hated the blond for it, but he also understood Tommy’s desire to see him. 

We told Tommy we would talk it over and let him know our decision.

I really didn’t want him to go. 

Sam talked me into it. 

That night after we put Tommy and Stella to sleep and crawled into our own bed, Sam began to explain his side further. He told me about how it might be nice for Tommy to get some closure. To be able to see Dream completely trapped in prison with no way out. It may help stop the nightmares.

That’s what convinced me in the end. 

As much as Tommy would try to tell us he was fine, his dreams told us otherwise. More often than not, we’d wake in the morning to find Tommy had crawled in bed between us or that he would be sitting in the rocking chair in Stella’s room. He never told us exactly what would happen, but we could tell. 

I just wanted them to stop. I wanted my boy to be able to feel safe in this house. And if that was the only way to have it happen… I had to let it happen. 

Tommy was thrilled with our verdict. Threw his arms around us in a huge hug and kissed our cheeks. I did my best to put on a happy front, but it was difficult. Sam could tell. Tommy could tell. Heck, I’m sure that even baby Stella could tell. 

I was wrapped in another hug by Tommy and was pulled close to his chest while he buried his face in my hair. 

“I’ll be alright baba… I promise.” 

Liar. 

My stomach was in knots the day he went to the prison. I woke up with enough time to see them off. I gave both of them extremely tight hugs, forcing them to promise me they would be safe before sending them off, telling them to be back in time for dinner. 

I watched the two walk toward the horizon and stood there watching long after they disappeared from view. The thing that snapped me from my swell of anxiety and nerves was the sound of Stella crying. 

I immediately jumped into action, closing the door and rushing toward her room. I carefully got her out of her crib and began our usual morning routine. “They’re going to be fine baby,” I cooed as I changed her, “They’re going to be just fine.” 

I knew she couldn’t understand me. I knew I was saying that more to try and convince myself of that. Thinking if I said it out loud it would make it true… it wasn’t true. 

The whole day I could help but worry. I tried to focus on Stella, on taking care of her, playing with her, making sure she was okay, but I found my thoughts drifting back to Tommy and Sam and the visit. I couldn’t help but wonder how it was going, if the two were safe. 

The pit in my stomach deepened when our usual dinner time rolled around and there was no sign of the boys. I tried to contact one of them via communicator, but no response. I wasn’t surprised. The prison was so heavy laced with obsidian it was nearly impossible to get a signal in there. I watched with a heavy heart and a knotted stomach as the sun sunk lower and lower into the sky and still, no boys. Stella’s bedtime came and I was forced to put her down alone, Sam and Tommy still nowhere to be found. 

I tried to remain calm. I sat on the couch and stared at the TV as a movie played. After a while, I realized my knee was bouncing like crazy and that I was halfway through the film but I had no idea what the hell was happening. I reached over and quickly shut off the TV. The black screen reflected the scene behind me, letting me see what was behind me.

I immediately jumped at the sight of my husband standing in the doorway behind me. My hand flew to my chest as my head whipped around to look at him. “Sam!” I exclaimed a bit breathless, using my free hand to push myself up from the couch to completely turn to him. “You scared me! I didn’t hear you come in!” 

Sam didn’t say anything. He only stared at me. That confused me. He usually rushes right for me, shouting hello, and wraps me in a hug and kisses me sweetly… Why is he just staring at me blankly? “Sam?” I questioned, taking a few steps forward toward him. He still didn’t move. Sam just stared. As I grew closer, I could see that his eyes were rimmed red and the usual light that filled his eyes was completely gone. It was really freaking me out. “What’s wrong?”

It was then I noticed that he had entered alone. Tommy hadn’t come in with him. That sent a fury of butterflies to stir in my stomach. “Sam? Where’s Tommy?” 

That was the question that broke the dam. 

I watched as Sam’s bottom lip began to quiver and a hushed sobbed echoed throughout the room. “I’m sorry,” Sam whimpered out, another sob escaping him. “I’m so sorry.” 

Sam’s legs seemed to give out from under him, causing me to rush forward as my husband fell to his knees. I sunk down to my knees and quickly cupped his face, gently tilting his head to look at me. 

Sobs were still falling from his lips as his eyes met mine. I rose my eyebrows at him, not wanting to rush him but still wanting to know what the hell was going on. I didn’t have to wait long for his gut wrenching words. 

“You were right.” 

It instantly clicked. I was right. That’s why Tommy wasn’t here. I was right. I was right to not want him to go. To not want him to see Dream. Something happened. Something bad happened. I was right. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop him. I was too far. I failed him. I failed to protect him. I failed our son. He’s dead and it’s all my fault.” 

Time seemed to stop at Sam’s words. Sam kept babbling words out through his sobs, but I became unable to hear him any longer. A loud ringing filled my ears and I watched as my own vision blurred. 

He’s….

He’s dead….

Tommy…

Tommy is dead. 

Dream… Dream killed him. 

A gut wrenching sob ripped itself from your throat as you fully registered what your husband was telling you. Sam’s arms instantly reach out and wrap around you tightly, bringing you into his chest. Your hands fall from his cheeks onto his chest as you clutch his shirt, burying your face in him as you sob. 

You’re not sure how long you’re there, kneeling on the floor sobbing. Slowly, and I mean slowly, but surely, your sobs die down until the only noise filling the room are soft sniffles. 

“I was right,” you manage to croak out, pulling yourself away from your creeper hybrid husband to look up at him. 

“You were right,” Sam echos, moving one of his hands to cup your cheek and tilting his head down to rest his forehead on yours. 

You let out a watery laugh as you close your eyes tightly and relish in the gentle contact. 

“God. I have never wanted to be wrong more in my entire life… I wish I wasn’t right.” 

The next few days passed slowly. The sky seemed to be constantly dark and everything seemed gloomy. Even Stella was more somber, as if she could tell something was wrong. And she probably could. She had gone from spending almost every second with her older brother to not seeing him for days on end in the blink of an eye. 

Sam still had to work. He had to force himself to go back to that damned prison with that bastard and listen to his taunting laughter through the cameras as he mocks the Warden’s pain. It takes everything in Sam to hold back and not barge into the cell and kill Dream himself. He knew that wouldn’t bring back Tommy and wouldn’t make him feel better, but even still. 

The house seemed so quiet. Even with Stella babbling and cooing, the rooms had never felt more quiet and empty. I found myself searching for Tommy’s voice, his laughter, his whole presence everyday only to be disappointed when my search came up empty. I tried to play some of his favorite music discs, but tears would fill my eyes as I realized I would never hear him sing along to them and the silence that would have usually been filled by him babbling about the disc was too deafening for me to want to listen to them again. 

The worst part, I found, was when Sam would get home. I was always happy to have my husband back. Always more than willing to hug and kiss him in a greeting. A welcome home. But everyday, I’d try to turn to greet Tommy two. I would be waiting for two blonds to appear in my home, even though I knew only one would be home. My heart would break over and over as I searched for the boy that I knew wouldn’t be there. 

I let out a sigh as I finished up the last dish I had prepared for dinner. Sam should be home from work any minute now. I set the table, thr-- two places and the food in the middle, Stella in her high chair. Now all there was to do was wait for Sam. 

As I finished up, I heard the front door open. “Honey! I’m home!” Sam’s voice called out. A soft smile placed itself on my lips as I turned around and made my way to the front door. 

“Hey honey welcome--” The sentence died on my lips as my eyes met what was at my front door. My husband had not come home alone. Instead of the one blond that I had seen come home day after day, had been joined by another blond. 

A familiar blond. 

The blond I had spent the last several days missing and mourning. 

Tommy. 

“Tommy?” My voice croaked as my eyes met his icy blue ones. 

Tears formed in the corner of his eyes as he gave me a soft smile, “Hi baba.” 

A sob let my lips as I raced forward and wrapped my arms around the middle of the boy I call my son. His arms immediately wrapped around me as he pulled me tightly to him. His face turned down and buried in my hair as I nuzzled into his chest. My fingers clutched at his shirt that rested on his back, trying to prove to myself that he was here. That Tommy was back and actually here. Here in the flesh. 

“How--How did you? Why are you? What the?” I babbled out, tilting my head up to try and look at him. 

“We can talk about it later… For now I’d just like my parents to hold me.” 

Another sob escaped my lips as I moved my head back to its original position. Sam’s strong arms wrapped around the two of us, pulling us close to him. Our little family was back together again. How? I don’t know. But I didn’t care. Tommy was back. 

The sound of Tommy’s stomach rumbling broke up from the sweet moment. I let out a small laugh as I carefully pulled away from the hug. I let my hand come up and cup the boy’s cheek. “How about you go sit at the table? I’ll get another plate.” 

He gave me a quick nod, leaning down and kissing my cheek before making his way to the table.

 “STELLA!! I MISSED YOU!”

I laughed again and turned to my husband, giving him a smile. “He’s back?” I whispered the question, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

“He’s back.” Sam confirmed, placing his hands on my hips, pulling me close to him. He then leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, one I instantly returned. The kiss said it all. Tommy was back. Our family was back. We were whole once again. And I’m going to make sure that it stays that way. 

That sucked. I’m sorry. But if you did enjoy, be sure to leave a like and maybe a reblog and comment telling me what you liked about it. Until next time!

[parkers-gal]

Heyy. Could you repost the fic where reader announces She s pregnant but gets scared that Peter will reject her so she breaks up with him? (I had requested part 2 of the 2 parts if I'm not wrong.) You don't have to ofc! Love you 💙💙

yep, i’ll post part two too!

—

warnings: lol pregnancy, slight angst, cursing (characters are all 18+)

wc: 2k

There was a fine line between a lot of things, but being pregnant and not being pregnant was not one of those things. In hindsight, maybe Midtown should have told the students which condom brands were least effective, or maybe even May or Pepper. And just by luck, Y/N happened to have skipped her birth control pills for two days in a row, the two days she spent entirely with Peter. And now, though she didn't know it was inevitable, she was facing consequences she thought would come much later in life, if at all. 

What would her parents say? How would Peter even react? Would she keep it? Would Peter support her either way? 

She didn't want to find out the answers to any of the questions flying through her mind. In all honesty, she didn't want to ask the questions at all. Instead, she sat on the bathroom floor, leaning against the cabinets as she let tears slip in realization that this was going to change her life forever. 

Wiping off a few last stray tears, she tucked the test into the back of the cabinet before getting up and leaving the bathroom, grabbing her purse and making her way to the front door.

"Y/N, honey? Are you alright?" Her mother asked right before she left. "You were in there an awful long time, hun."

"'m fine, mom, just thinking. I'll be back, probably gonna get more of my stuff."

Y/N was just in the middle of moving out and into her own apartment. She was corning her last year of college, and she figured it was best to slowly transition into her own life as an independent adult. As of right now, her apprenticeship wasn't the best she could get, so she was only moving into the Avengers tower with the rest of the team until she got the promotion her mentor promised her. Despite being an avenger, she didn't actually work for Tony or Bruce, and she didn't depend on them as much as Peter did. She was still close with all of them, though. 

Walking through the double doors, she gave a small nod and smile to George, the man who stood on guard at the entrance of the tower. Making her way to the elevators, she pressed the button and debated on what she was going to say to Peter. 

The living quarters of the tower were two main floors, but the central living center had the kitchen, so most Avengers stayed there until "curfew," as Tony had called it. 

Making her way through the halls, she passed the kitchen, where Bucky, Sam, Steve, Wanda, and Natasha were located, talking and drinking what must've been one of Steve's old fashioned drinks. 

"Hey, Y/N," they greeted her individually. In response, she only nodded, trying to get to Peter as fast as possible. Furrowed brows and wide eyes they were, shocked at how closed off she was being. It was only when she left the room that Wanda gasped, staring at the spot Y/N had just been on. 

"What?" Nat said quickly, urgently. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Back in Peter's room, Y/N had just knocked, Peter granting her access and she stepped inside, clutching her purse close to her as her breathing quickened and her pulse increased. 

"Hey, babe," Peter said, his back to her as he fiddled with something on the bookshelf. 

"P- .. Peter, we need to talk." 

At this, he spun around, glancing in her eyes to try and decipher what she was thinking and what she was about to say. What came next was not what he expected. 

"Okay."

"We need to break up."

"W-what? Why? I though- I thought w-"

"We just need to break up- I'm breaking up with you," she rushed out. 

"Baby, come on, let's talk about this. Tell me why. Did I do something? Did something happen? I can make it better, I can change- make things right, c'mon don't just-"

"Peter I'm breaking up with you," she said, her voice cracking as she finally allowed the tears to flood her eyes. Peter was full on crying as she turned around and left his room. Thirty seconds passed before he went sprinting out of the room after her. 

Wanda and Natasha had called just about every Avenger into the compound's kitchen, and just in time to see Y/N leaving with tearful eyes and Peter chasing after her. 

Wanda hadn't explained to anyone what she had read in Y/N's mind. Though they knew something was up, they weren't prepared to witness the action of the words (or thoughts). 

"Y/N," Peter breathed out. "Y/N!" he said again, gripping her wrist to spin her around. "Why? Why the fuck would you just drop that? What happened to us?"

"Don't make this harder than it has to be, Parker." 

"I'm not! I just want to know why the girl I'm in love with is leaving me so sudden! Don't you think I at least deserve to know why?"

A few more tears fell down her face before she exhaled. "I wish.. I wish I could tell you, Peter."

"Well why don't you?!"

"I- I can't."

"Did you stop loving me? Was that it? Did I do something?"

"I didn't stop loving you. I could never stop loving you-"

"Then why are you giving up on us?!" Peter exclaimed with defeat, both of his hands pulling at his hair before covering his face as he started crying again. 

Y/N stepped forward, hesitantly about to reach out to console him before deciding against it and leaving altogether. 

When she was gone, Wanda breathed loudly, Natasha doing the same. 

"Peter.." Nat said, walking towards him slowly. "Are you... alright-?"

"She just- did it!" Peter whined out, abruptly cutting her off. Natasha rushed forward to catch him and he gripped her tight as he cried out to whichever god cursed him.

"We need to talk," Wanda whispered to Nat, before filing out and leaving the two alone. 

***

"What the fuck was that about?" Sam exclaimed in the training room. The Avengers had resorted to the gym for some privacy, knowing neither Y/N nor Peter would come willingly unless they had scheduled training, which neither did. 

"Seriously, though," Bucky replied. "They were doing so well, things were going so great-"

"Okay everyone just sit down!" Wanda exclaimed, pacing back and forth as Natasha stood next to her, rubbing her forehead in thought. 

"Do you know why?" Steve asked after a moment. 

When Wanda didn't vocalize her response, merely making guilty eye contact, the Avengers knew. 

"Of course you know," Bruce said. 

"Okay, what's this about?" Tony said, coming through the doors, a few minutes late. 

"Y/N just broke up with Peter," Loki stated blandly.

"What the fuck?"

"I know, right?" Steve said, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and sympathy for the pair. 

"And.." Tony glanced back and forth between Nat and Wanda and the rest of the crew. "Wanda knows?"

"Mhmm," Nat hummed. 

"Well, wouldn-"

"Y/N is pregnant," Wanda blurted out. 

The silence that overcame the group was deafening. Pure shock and surprise were overwhelming emotions as the heroes struggled to wrap their minds around the realization, the truth. 

"Holy fuck," Sam whispered. 

"That's why.. she broke up with Pete?" Bucky said. 

"Mhmm," Wanda hummed back quickly. "I could feel the anxiety she had. I think she let it get the best of her. She was still in shock, still panicking. I don't think she's known for long." 

"We have to do-"

"No, we don't do anything. Nobody says a thing, nobody does a thing," Natasha informed strictly. "I swear to fuck if any of you do something I will come for you myself. Let Wanda and me handle this. You all don't know the start about female anatomy." 

"Yes, ma'am," Bucky replied, the others nodding in agreement. 

***

About a week later, Y/N was walking into the training room. She saw Steve, Natasha, Peter, Tony, and Bucky standing around talking about something, and as much as she wanted to avoid him, she also knew that she had to attend training. 

"Hey, Y/N/N," Tony greeted. "I'm making some schedule changes."

"Okay.." she said after a moment, putting her bag on the bench as she glanced at his clipboard before making eye contact again. 

"Pete, you're in for four days a week, each a two hour session. You'll spar with Steve for two sessions, five mile runs with Nat, power training with Bucky and Sam, you know the drill."

"Y/N," he started, flipping a page. "I'm.. cutting your sessions to thirty minutes each. Only twice a week."

"What the fuck, why, Tony?" She asked.

"Yeah, that seems unreasonable and unfair. She gets less time and I get more?" Peter joined. 

"Well, I just want to be cautious with the baby on the way and all that," Tony said nonchalantly.

Time seemed to freeze as the group went dead silent, all except for Peter. 

"Baby? What baby? What the fuck are you talking about?" he asked, glancing between Tony and Y/N. "Y/N? Ar- are you- are you pregnant?" 

She closed her eyes and exhaled, her hands clammy and sweaty as they were balled into fists.

"I'-I'm..."

"Is that why you broke up with me?" he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as the realization hit him. "You thought you'd leave me before I had the chance to do that do you?"

"I can't do this right now," Y/N breathed, rushing out of the room. Peter ran after her, and Natasha punched Tony in the arm once they had left. 

"Y/N, Y/N!" Peter exclaimed, catching up to her and spinning her around. "Is it true?"

She closed her eyes before nodding again. When she opened her lids, her eyes were glossy and red, "Yeah." 

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he whispered, voice cracking. 

"I don't- I don't know, Peter! I was so afraid you were going to break up with me or leave me or that you were going to hate me if I didn't keep it or that my parents would disown me or some shit like that! I just did it first to avoid it all."

"Avoid it all?" Peter repeated. "I love you, Y/N," he stated, grabbing both of her hands. "A baby isn't going to change that, whether you keep it or you don't. It's your body, so it's your choice," he said, and her head rolled in disbelief as she sighed. "I love you," he stated again, tightening his grip on her hands. "And you're carrying my baby. Did you ever think I'd be happy?"

"Peter we're so young, basically fresh out of high school-" 

"I know it's unplanned, Y/N, and that makes it so scary. But I would never abandon you like that."

"I really love you, Peter," Y/N huffed out, her tears beginning to free fall now. 

"I know baby," Peter said while pulling her into his chest and embracing her for the first time in a week. 

After a few moments, Y/N's breathing evened out and Peter spoke up. "Are... are you going to keep it?" he whispered, kissing the top of her head. 

Her throat was sticky from crying, and after a few seconds, she answered. "I am." 

Peter held her at arm's length to look at her, really look at her, and he kneeled down and kissed her stomach, voicing his excitement and feelings. 

The Avengers, who were watching from the doorway of the training room, smiled in relief, a few of them wiping stray tears and rubbing their eyes to regain their composure. 

"God they're growing up," Tony whispered. 

"Not just yet," Pepper fired back, glancing at the pair before grinning herself, thankful they were in this together. 

(part two is out)

[missmitchieg]

Hey, Don't Die

It started out as a joke.

It was always supposed to be a joke.

The boys weren't supposed to die on him. But he forgot to say it. It wasn't his fault! He got distracted by the pretty girl in front of him and their favorite little inside joke just slipped his mind. So he didn't say it, and now the boys were gone.

Or maybe it was his fault they were gone. Sure, maybe it was a coincidence that every time he did say it, they didn't die on him and the one time he didn't say it, they went and died. Or maybe it was some weird fortune or good luck charm.

Whatever it was, Bobby didn't think he would ever be able to escape that positively heart wrenching, soul crushing guilt of how he should have said it, or how he should have been there to run and call for an ambulance.

The first time he said it was to Luke. It was a joke. It was funny. Luke made a comment at the end of the day that he was going to his parents' house to sleep because his bed didn't give him that neck crick that his couch did.

With a laugh, Bobby patted Luke's shoulder and gave a little squeeze. "Alright. Don't die out there, though."

Luke cackled at that and shook his head, giving him a half hug. "I'll try, buddy. Love you."

"I love you, too."

They kept that joke going for a couple of weeks.

The next one he made the joke to was Alex. It was still a joke. It was still funny. Alex was just going to make a quick pizza run and come back.

"Be quick. Don't die." Bobby told him.

Alex smiled and ruffled Bobby's hair the way he knew he hated, waving as he walked out. "I won't, bro."

"You better not. Love you."

"Love you."

Then came Reggie. It was still a joke. It was still funny. They were on a 'friend date', as Reggie called it, to the aquarium. Bobby, Luke and Alex all wanted to watch the great whites in the shark tunnel, but Reggie wanted to go look at the jellyfish in the opposite direction of the sharks.

"Alright. We'll meet back up by the clown fish, then. Don't die alone in there." Bobby smiled and patted Reggie's cheek.

"I won't, Bobins." Reggie chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, giving his best friend a sweet smile. "Love you."

"I love you, too."

It had sort of become their thing after a while. One or two or all of them would go off somewhere without 'their Bobble' and Bobby would always, always tell them, whether it was with a smile or a faux serious look on his face. "Don't die."

Then came that day. July twenty second, nineteen ninety five. Bobby had been distracted by a very pretty girl with curly hair and sparkly eyes and had just forgotten to tell his boys his usual comment of "Hey. Don't die out there. I love you.", so he hadn't said it. And then he got a call. A call to tell him that his band, his best friends, his boys, were gone forever.

He was horrified when he realized what had happened.

What he didn't say.

What he didn't do.

He had broken down about it to his parents, who promptly suggested that he go to therapy about it. Something about how it wasn't healthy to think this way and he did nothing wrong and he couldn't have known what would happen and he needed to talk to someone about it. So he did. He went and he talked about the boys and how it hurt that they were gone and they were never coming back. But he never told his therapist about their thing, about what he would say to them when they left his sight.

He had also managed to become a rock star by means of some sleazy contract he hadn't been given the chance to read properly giving ownership of Luke's music to some company and Bobby had been forced to record the songs and pass them off as his own and keep the true writer a secret.

It was fine. Luke was gone. He wasn't ever going to find out what the contract had roped Bobby into. So he did it. Just not without a few breakdowns in between song recordings and e-mails to his therapist about emergency sessions. But it was fine.

So he went on like that, taking his boys' music and recording it in between breakdowns and therapy sessions and becoming a mega famous rock star, just like he had managed to convince himself his boys would want him to.

He grew up and had a kid. A little girl named Carrie, who was his absolute little pride and joy. A little girl who was never going to live in a garage, or eat out of the back of a beat up car, or get food poisoning, or anything that could harm her. She was going to have only the best health care and knowledge he could buy and teach her and she wasn't going to die.

The first time he had told her the thing, she was a little toddler, going to day care for the first time. She had been excited to go to day care and meet new friends to play with and he had been a wreck thinking of all the things that could happen if he didn't remember to tell her. So he made a mental note to not forget before he walked out the door to go to work.

He had walked inside with a little curly haired toddler on his hip and, with a smile, said to his little girl: "Carrie, love, daddy's gonna go to work now. You're gonna stay here a while and I'll pick you up when I'm done working. I love you. Don't die here."

Carrie had giggled at that and wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, giving him a peck on the cheek. "Love you, daddy!" She said before he let her down and she ran off to bang on a brightly colored toy drum.

Bobby winced as he felt his heart clench in his chest at the sight of his little girl playing a drum, just like his old best friend. He bit his lip as he clenched and unclenched his fists and walked out to the car to go to the studio, where he would try and write a song as good as Luke's old music again.

No matter how hard he tried to channel the guitarist, he just couldn't. He couldn't write like Luke, because he wasn't Luke. And Luke wasn't there to help him. Wasn't there to chuckle and suggest a clever slant rhyme, or a metaphor that would work, or a cool melody that sounded like something Luke would write, but also that Bobby, no, that Trevor could play in his sleep.

He groaned in frustration as he and his team of four other writers just couldn't come to an agreement about which rhyme scheme to use for this song, and kept glancing at the clock until it was the time to go and pick up his baby from day care.

He walked inside and looked around for Carrie, hoping, praying that saying the thing worked, that he hadn't lost his little girl like he lost his boys. "Care-bear? Baby?"

"Daddy!" Carrie giggled and got up from where she was sitting on the floor watching a little curly haired girl slam her fingers against toy piano keys, running up to him. "Hi, daddy!"

Oh, thank God. "Carrie, there you are! My little girl! Oh!" He cooed as he scooped her up into his arms and hugged her tightly to his chest, pressing kisses to the top of her tiny, giggling head.

"Aww!"

"That's so sweet."

"Oh, what a good daddy!"

Trevor looked up and chuckled, shaking his head. "I just love my little girl so much. Come on, baby. Let's go home. We're having that yummy pasta you like for dinner."

"Yay!"

After that, saying the thing became his and Carrie's thing, just like it was his and his boys' thing. He would drop Carrie off somewhere or Carrie would be on her way to the bus stop to go to school, and Trevor would send her off with an "I love you. Don't die.", and his daughter would smile and salute.

"Daddy, I'm going to my friend, Julie's!"

"Ok! Have fun and don't die! Love you!"

"Dad, I'm going to school!"

"Don't die at school! Love you!"

"Dad, can I go to Flynn and Julie's sleepover on Saturday?"

"Sure, just don't die."

And they went on like that for years.

Carrie always thought it was 'just one of dad's funny quirks'. An 'overprotective dad' thing. Sort of like Marlin from that cute kids movie, Finding Nemo. Carrie would go somewhere without him for a period of time, and Trevor would worry endlessly until she came back, completely unharmed. Then came the hugs and kisses and comments of "There's my favorite girl!" from him.

Little did she know just how much her father was suffering. Little did she know just how worried he was when she would leave, how relieved he was when it sank in that she was fine, that it had worked again, just like it always did.

So sure, maybe it wasn't necessarily 'normal' to say that every time his daughter was out of his sight for any amount of time. Maybe he was still a little traumatized. Maybe he should bring it up to his therapist. But he was fine. He was fine, as long as she was fine.

He ended up admitting it to his therapist mid-session. "So I do this thing with my daughter." He started. "Whenever she goes somewhere without me, I always tell her, 'don't die, I love you'. It's-" He coughed and cleared his throat taking a sip of water to will the sudden lump in his throat away. "It's... Something I used to say to my friends before they died."

Dr. Born nodded and wrote something down quickly, gesturing for him to go on.

"I always tell her. I never forget to. Because the one time I did forget... Well." Trevor made a kind of 'you know, I just told you' gesture and shifted, pushing his hair out of his eyes like his Reggie used to.

"I see."

"I guess I think... If I don't tell her, something will happen. Something will hurt her, a-and she'll disappear like my boys did."

"That sounds quite stressful." Dr. Born had said, in his non judgemental, caring therapist voice.

"It is." Trevor admitted, a familiar anxiety bubbling up in his chest. "Because what if I forget one day? What if I forget one day-"

"Trevor." Dr. Born said, sensing an unhelpful anxiety spiral coming on.

"-and Carrie gets hurt? What if I forget to say it to her just one time and-"

"Trevor."

"that's the last time I ever see my little girl, just because I forgot to tell her not to die-"

"Trevor!"

Trevor winced at that and stopped fidgeting with the toy Dr. Born had advised him to buy for his anxiety years ago now, looking up at him. "Sorry."

"Clearly, you were very affected by the death of your dear friends." Dr. Born noted. "But, why didn't you mention saying that to your friends or your daughter before?"

Trevor frowned at the question and looked down, wringing his hands. "I... Don't know. I guess that part hurt too much to talk about, or think about." He said with a tilt of his head.

Dr. Horn hummed at that and nodded his understanding, taking another note.

"My parents told me to go to therapy to talk about losing the boys, and how much that was affecting me." Trevor started. "I didn't have the capacity, I guess, to talk about that, so I stuck to the boys."

Dr. Horn nodded again, still giving him the most understanding, non judgemental look.

"And I-I guess I just convinced myself telling Carrie that was normal. That worrying if I didn't tell her that, I would end up losing her like my boys, was normal." Trevor continued. "That saying it or not saying it was sort of like a telling of what was to come. Because until now, it has been." He explained. "Because every time I said it, the boys lived. The one time I didn't, they ended up in an ambulance. Every time I say it to Carrie, she comes home safe. What if it happens again?"

Dr. Horn nodded again and hummed, looking for the best way to reply to Trevor. "I won't lie and say that's a normal train of thought, or necessarily true."

Trevor sighed but nodded. "Fair enough."

"But I also know it would negatively affect you to just stop saying it cold turkey."

Trevor nodded again.

"I think, whenever you decide you're ready, and you don't have to be ready the exact next time that Carrie goes somewhere, you should try texting it to her when she's already out the door. And eventually stop saying it altogether."

Trevor considered the thought and nodded slowly, wringing the toy in his hands. "I- Should I tell my daughter what I'm doing? It might be weird for her to be so used to hearing that every time she leaves to suddenly not hearing it."

"Oh, good thinking. I think you should tell her. Though, I'll warn you, she might ask about why you're suddenly cutting out a tradition between the two of you."

Trevor nodded, scratching his neck. "What will she think of me when I tell her about it?"

"You'll never know until you tell her."

So he did. Six months after the fact. He sat Carrie down and explained to her that their 'fun dad joke' was going to change a little soon. He explained why he would always say it and about the boys. He explained that it was going to stop.

Carrie sat and listened intently as she processed what her father was telling her, giving him the tightest hug she ever had after he had finished, both of them in tears. She couldn't believe that her father had just been living with that pain for years, and mentally preparing himself for it to stop for months. Knowing all of this, Carrie Wilson was the most confident she had ever been that her father was the strongest man she ever knew.

So she walked out one day, just to get some fro-yo with the girls, and waited for a text from her father when she didn't hear their thing said out loud. It came when she was two steps out the door.

The next time came just the next day, when Carrie was on her way to school. Carrie didn't hear it out loud, so she waited for a text. It came five steps out the door.

The next time came when Carrie had a performance that Trevor couldn't be at. It was in the same direction as the studio, so he drove her to the venue, and Carrie felt a sad smile stretch onto her face as she heard him say, "I love you. Don't die."

Two weeks later, Carrie was going to a sleepover at Julie's for the first time in a long time. She smiled as this time, she made it all the way to the car before she got a text saying their thing.

Almost a month later, Carrie grinned as she walked out to go to school and didn't hear it, and never got a text. She came home that day, no feeling of sickness coming on or bruise in sight. She was fine.

And he was fine, too.

[scott-mccall-the-hot-girl]

theodore raeken: missing persons

( okay so i kinda had an idea ,, and then went through the whole teen wolf timeline to see if it would work ,, so here it is !!

theo’s backstory !! it started off way more messy headcannon format & then it got kinda a real story vibe ,, def thinking about making it an ao3 one shot eventually )

-

TW: very sad & hurt my feelings

don't imagine:

eight year old theo raeken...

who sleeps at his best friend scott mccall's house almost every single night, stiles is almost always there too.

theo and his friends where they all watch movies together until ungodly hours of the morning. stiles loved star wars, theo will never forget that. they had gone as luke, han and chewy for halloween that previous year. melissa went as leia. scott has always been more of a indiana jones fan himself. theo would watch either, anywhere where harrison ford was theo didn't mind being.

in this little trio, who were all raised in the mccall house, where they were given eveything they needed. sometimes when theo thought about her, when he needed to remember the good things in life. he never quite knew how she managed. expecially with scott's dad who floated in and out of the picture.

yet, it always was melissa who gave scott extra lunches to take to school because theo and his sister, who were often forgotten by their parents usually were left to fend for themselves and a fourteen year old girl rarely had the funds or mind to give a growing boy a nutritious lunch. these packed lunches always with the crust off because that's the way theo liked it. melissa always remembered.

theo had three favorite places: scott's bedroom, the corner next to his bed where theo's blow up mattress was. the bridge in which tara and he crossed everyday on their way back to raekens from school. his final place was actually beacon hills elementary.

theo always liked school. theo was good at school. he didn't realize this until mellisa had pointed out an exceptional report card. he didn't think it was much of anything to be proud of.

he liked recognizing big words from english class and novels that would help him when his mom watched jeopardy. she would watch the show every night. sitting in a daze in the raekens dark living room. not paying much mine to the eight year old, until he started blurting out the answers to her favorite show. she beamed at him. he loved his mother's smile, she had the same dimples as tara.

so yeah, when a seventeen year old theo raeken spent months filing the names of anyone ever involved in the mccall pack, current members, deceased and ones that just fell out of beacon hills. he remebered some names.

theo raeken grew up in beacon hills, and beacon hill wasn't to big of a town.

theo rembered issac lahey a quiet boy who had been in his thrid grade class, jackson whittemore who was a grade older than them and everyone knew him because he was was offered a spot on the middle school lacross team, he knew erica reyes who he rembered for her epilepsy and it made him hate himself a little less for being the king of the heart condition, he even remebered names like derek hale- who was in the same grade as tara. theo even rembered the name malia tate as she was small girl who did go to beacon hills elementary, who was always startled and always walked a bit faster than everyone else through the halls. or even lydia martin, a girl stiles had a crush on. she talked to theo a lot, lydia used to call him teddy, he didn't know when it started but he let her do it purely to spite the fact that lydia gave theo a nickname and never bothered to acknowledge stiles.

theo rembered all of them, i mean for years of his life all he had to rely on was his memory to make sure it was real.

though during the line memories turned bitter and he was left with the sour taste of resentment.

so it was weird to think despite it all, that year was one of theo's best. he never felt like he belonged. sure he had scott and stiles before but gaining friendship & being labeled as an "inseparable trio" by the sheriff station deputies, whenever they rang havoc through their office made theo's mouth crack a toothy grin. he felt like he had a family.

that was until the air started getting colder in beacon hills. theo started hearing the voices. though, even so much later in life he never could quite pin point how it started, like his brain couldn't truly decipher what was going on. some of it felt like dream, though the dreams and the thoughts. sometimes they didn't feel like his own and made him so scared he would leave the day feeling nauseous.

though this all came in spurts. his birthday was that november, and that was magical. he spent the weekend with stiles and scott, theo's mom actually made the point to bring the three of them bowling. the boys pitched in on buying theo a big millennium falcon lego set because he was always doing things with his hands, something he picked up not being so most athletic of the bunch. they also got him big poster of han solo just to spite him. he blushed and yelled at them for stupid gifts but they knew by the smile on his face he loved them.

he loved so much because despite the fact that they were poking fun at him ever so lightly, they were good natured and they held thought. they really thought about theo enough to know what he liked. he never had that before.

so the voices started getting louder again around christmas time. it was weird for theo, the happiest time of the year filled him with such excessive dread. it didn't feel right. theo's life changed that month.

then one day scott and stiles get sit down because something tragic happened. tara raeken is dead. the details are fuzzy and they don't really understand how, seeing as these boys are just in fourth grade. they are horrified, it's one of the only other times they've experienced death besides with stiles mom. though claudia stilinksi was sick, sometimes sick people die. learning about tara left a bad taste in their mouth. she was young.

they try and call, bike past is his house. they don't hear from him. they go to her funeral, scott and stiles, high on anxiety attached to their parents just trying to sneak a peak of where their best friends may be. he's gone, that's the conclusion they come to, he's gone. they don't know how it could have happened, they just know that he isn't there. why wouldn't he be there?

they try and talk to the raekens but haunted by their daughters death, they paid less attention to theo than before. they barley give them a straight answer, melissa explains what grief can do to a family and not to blame them but is equally suspicious.

just take a minute to think, while scott and stiles are scared and searching for their best friend, theo raeken, barley nine years old is given a heart transplant. alone in a dark and cold sewer hidden deep under beacon hills, horrified and a failure, that's what the dread doctors tell him. a boy who keeps quiet, does what needs to be done and has to survive. doing absolutely everything he can to be kept around, the second he heals (which theo recognizes is abnormally fast) the doctors are straight out of beacon hills.

the doctors eventually find his parents too, who leave beacon hills, he doesn't exactly know what happened to them. he doesn't everything he can not to think about the possibilities. he hopes he has a chance, survival instincts flourish but the ideal of living isn't quite the same as surviving.

one day, the doctors inform him he has absolutely nothing to go back to, he figured this he just be didn't think they would actually tell him. they never told him much.

they are far away from beacon hills- much farther than he assumed. he has no sister, and his parents are gone.

he is alone, and he is finding out that now, he has one more secret to hide. the poor boy has claw and fangs and often thinks about using them to rip himself apart, i mean he deserves it right? he just watched his sister die, to go down with the last living part of her, his own heart.

while theo is expecting his fate, stiles and scott and stuck in months of confusion. missing posters of the boys face are strung up everywhere they can reach, once his parents are gone. they know they need to do everything they can.

mellisa feels like she's been punched in the gut, so she helps her boys. she calls every hospital in the county, and then she starts reaching out to some of the bigger hospitals in the state. spreading word of a missing nine year old like wildfire. she spends nights after her shift arguing with noah stilinksi, he has been looking to. he tries to bargain logic with her.

"yeah it's strange he never said goodbye, he wasnt at the funeral- it's weird, yes, but his parents left too. their daughter just died melissa. maybe they didn't want to stay."

melissa knows, yeah that makes sense. theo had to of just moved with the raekens but something about it doesn't feel like it makes sense.

he would have said goodbye to her. she knows it.

other people in beacon hills were actually thinking the same thing, something wasn’t quite making sense.

those other people being some who can sense unrest in supernatural frequencies. a family who makes it their business to monitor the supernatural. the hales.

though, talia hales supernatural concerns didn't often revolve around fourteen year old girls who drown, shes curious. the girl, was in dereks grade. the mother in her falters but it doesn't get strange until the police reports reveal the fact that the girls heart was gone, she was found. gaping chest wound, lying in the river.

so she starts to suspect somethings wrong. she's seen the raekens case, something about it doesn't make sense. sure, the death of a teenage girl is overwhelmingly tragic but there isn't much to investigate. though talk of the raekens is getting loud, she comes to find out this is because of the raekens youngest, who was nowhere to be seen days before the funeral.

she knows the hunters are back in beacon hills. so wonders if the two correlate. so she starts asking questions.

talia, with her daughter in tow see two boys standing outside the sheriffs station, stopping people when they walk in to show they a poster. it's theo raekens missing poster, though there isn't much official about it. it seems like the sheriffs department couldn't issue anything official, so as she walks up to the boys seemed to have made dozens of copies themselves. there information seems formal enough.

she catches their anxiety heighten as talia hands the poster over to laura who stands behind her.

the taller one raises a brow, "have you seen him anywhere miss?"

she smiles, "miss hale- you can call me talia though. this is my daughter laura. we haven't seen your friend but we'd like to help..."

the taller boy nods, "well, i'm scott. that's stiles. how could you help?"

talia hale lies easily, "i've heard about what happened to the raekens and it sparked my concern. i have a friend, local sheriffs station who is awfully good with the police dogs. if you have anything that your friend owned i might be able to call i'm a favor."

a few days later, stiles had found her in the same spot as last time with a small black sweater. she smiled and told him she would do her best to help these two boys. not sure if her intrest in the case was supernatural based or because she didn't want these boys, who smelled like anxiety and exhaustion to fall down the hole of loss themselves. she wasn't sure where investigating theo’s disappearance themselves would leave them, she didn't want them getting caught up in the supernatural spiderweb of beacon hills.

though, talia hale looses scent and momentum on the case. literally and metaphorically. she finds herself near some suspicious tunnels, leading right under beacon hills but scent falls short. she's frustrated, and the time since his disappearance is lengthening but her families needs become increasingly concerning.

she's listens, she likes to know what's going on. so when she hears her sixteen year old whispering a bit more with her kid brother she raises suspicion. she doesn't trust peter like she used to, not after getting involved with the desert wolf.

paige dies months after that, dereks heartbroken and talia is trying to put together pieces of a story that turned her babies eyes blue. to young. beacon hills doesn't quite understand how another student is dead, with no previous medical history. this, the death of paige she knows is supernatural.

kate argent moves to town and in months, the hale house is burned to the ground. inside, theo raekens black sweater. tucked away in a room, where news clippings and missing posters caught fire the fastest.

so with no surprise, another tragedy is unleashed and it's the talk of the town. memory of theo starts to fade, like most things do in beacon hills. it's not anybodies fault but it still stings. though, theo million miles away hasn't felt much of anything latley.

it's been a little over a year. he hasn't cried in the past three months. he won't let himself. nobody is going to find him. he isn't going to het out. so he puts up his walls, as many as he can. he just has to stay alive a little bit longer. make something worth taras sacrifice. they had started to kill off more of the chimeras, more of their science experiments. he can't get killed, he can't do that to tara.

theo was always a fast learner. theo always liked school. theo was good at school. this wasnt exactly the same as math class at beacon hills elementary but he was picking up skills quickly. theo didn't quite recognize himself after that year. he wasn't that same boy, and that had to suite him just fine. he never had much of a choice in this. he just chose to try and keep her heart beating for as long as he could.

so theo raeken adjusted, he had to.

[narrators-journal]

Step one

Hoo boy, this one is potentially dark as fuck, so remember that this is entirely fantasy. Do not think this is healthy or copy anything here.

Cw: heavy heavy nsfw. Drugging, b+e, somnophilia, Illumi gets possessive lowkey

previous part: here

First part: here

Illumi used the month or so you were closed off and mourning to try and dig up as much intimate info on you as he could, from childhood fears to how many times you've had sex. With this knowledge added to his collection, the last thing he needed to do was set up a cover story, than introduce himself. If this fails, she can be killed, or trained He told himself as he read through your social media on his laptop, ignoring a nagging sense of dread he hadn't felt since his first solo kill as a child.

The cover story was easy enough, murdering the people across the street from your home was boringly simple, setting them up to die of heart attacks and a break in, waiting out the investigation, nothing new to the assassin. By the time things had cleared up there, you were beginning to cheer up anyway, which was good, it'd be easier for Illumi to court you if you weren't verging into suicidal territory. Finally, the day came when he moved into the home, much to the teary refusal of his mother.       "I'm not leaving permanently," Illumi assured her the day he moved out, taking only a duffel bag of clothing with him, the issue was that his mother was holding him in a hug and refusing to let go. "You were so excited for me to be courting a woman, you can't sob and cling to me when I need to move out to properly 'woo' her." His voice was level and uninterested, as always, though on the inside he did feel a bit of reluctance at leaving, which was why he guessed he didn't use a lot of force to remove his mother's iron grip.        "I know, but why can't you go about the process from home?" she blubbered, Illumi's father standing a bit behind her sighing at her antics,              "To build up proper propinquity I need to be near her a lot, I cannot do that from here while also doing my work. Besides, it is relatively frowned upon for a 24 year old to still be living with their parents, so I need to have my own place for...the later portion." Sadly, even logic didn't calm Kikyo down, so Silva was forced to pry her from Illumi and simply wished the long haired assassin well as the man left. To atone for the sin of leaving the Zoldyck estate, Illumi was required to call his mother at least once a day, but other than that, he was free to live across the street from you when he wasn't working. This set up proved to be very useful, as it allowed him to linger on the street without suspicion, watch you from his windows, and it gave him more opportunities to run into you 'organically', despite having your meager outing schedule memorized already, and more. The day he moved in properly, Illumi was helping a trio of butlers move furniture in, trying to seem as normal as possible since he could see you sitting on your porch, getting some fresh air while also watching your new neighbor curiously. It's good to see her out at least, vitamin D is necessary for good health. he thought as he moved the last bit of strategically aged furniture into the home, letting the butlers return home after that. If he was to blend in, he'd have to slum it for a while after all. Though, he could put up with that as long as you stayed as friendly as you were the first night he was there. It was pretty late, the dark hours cooling the relatively warm air of the late spring day when he heard a knock at the door, but when he opened, there you were, your (h/l), (h/c) hair pulled away from your face, in a (f/c) jacket and some of your nicer casual clothes,       "Hello! I'm sorry if you were asleep or anything, but I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood!" you chirped, your kind smile making something weird happen to his heart, but he hid that, not wanting to scare you by saying he was having a heart attack,      "Ah, hello miss. No, I was just trying to cook some dinner, not to worry." he assured, watching you relax a bit before tilting his head, "I'm sorry if this is curt, but have we met?" he asked, your (e/c) eyes shining with confusion for a moment before realization washed that away,       "Oh! you're the man I bumped into at that party!" he mimicked your stunned reaction, chatting a bit before you heard angry sizzling from his kitchen, the sound earning a concerned look from you. "Um?? Should you step outside?" you suggested, and when he looked in your eyes again, he saw that undeserved concern in those captivating orbs. That weird feeling returned in response, but Illumi repressed it once again,        "No, I believe that's just my food," he said nonchalantly, watching your expression change to panic, it was so intriguing to see how expressive you were compared to his family,        "Maybe you should go check on it??" you urged gently, the panicked look in your eyes compelling the empathy-less assassin to do as you said, so he nodded simply and returned to the pot of boiling water that was leaking with angry bubbles splashing water onto the burner. He simply turned the stove off and returned to you once the water had settled again. You were still there, nervously peeking in to try and check on him he assumed.        "Why didn't you come in?" He asked, making you jump,        "I-I wasn't invited, it's rude to just walk in." you pointed out, and he mentally kicked himself for forgetting that fact briefly. Though he verbally just sighed in defeat, running a hand through his long, silky hair.         "Actually, would it be uncouth of me to maybe ask if you would help me with something?" He asked, and when you shook your head he reluctantly continued, "You see, my family is rather well off, so I've...never learned to cook. Would you maybe teach me how to make the food?" He asked, and he liked to think it was the power of his natural charm that made you agree, not the pitiful mask of helplessness he put on. Either way though, you were now inside of his new home. Could this be considered a date? Illumi mused as he followed your instructions to bring the water to a boil again and put the store-bought noodles into the rolling liquid, People cook together as a date, so this should count as a date. He decided after a moment of watching you prepare food, following your orders until the two of you had managed to make a rather respectable looking dinner. He cemented this occassion's 'date' status by handing you a plate,          "It's fair that since you helped make it, you eat some of it with me." he pointed out when you went to refuse his offering. After that, the two of you sat in his living room in silence, neither making the first move to speak. For Illumi, the silence was comfortable, it gave him time to judge the weird thing that had happened with his insides. He wasn't dead, and the warm, fluttery sensation was fading, so it didn't seem to be fatal. I should get the family doctor to check me over. he decided as he ate, finally glancing over at you while you sat on the opposite end of the couch. Judging by the tension in your limbs and how you radiated discomfort, you were about to bolt like a scared rabbit. That's not good...

        "so." He hummed, hoping to ease your anxiety with some conversation, plus it'd give him a chance to dig into you, "why were you at that party?" There was a stretch of silence, your mood falling again for a moment, but than you seemed to put on a fake smile for him, how sweet.         "I'm a bit shy, so my friend decided to try and hook me up with a man she worked with." you explained, shrugging it off, "He ended up ditching me for some friends when we got there, so I didn't ask for a second date." Well of course your date went badly, you're supposed to be with me, not some stranger. a dark part of him thought, than stopped. What brought that up? I haven't even decided if she's really worth 'dating'. He reminded himself, but that possessive thought still lingered a bit more than he would've liked. However, that issue was for later, right now he wanted to see just how much information he could get you to willingly tell him.       "So, are you looking for a partner?" he asked, and he just caught a bit of a flustered epression on your (s/c) face at his question. He was beginning to enjoy seeing such an expression.        "R-right now? Um..not actively, b-but I'm not against a relationship." you said, not looking at him as you spoke, your body language screaming how flustered you were. After that, the two of you simply chatted, Illumi enjoying when you fully relaxed and opened up a bit more, but what felt like only a short time later, you were thanking him for the food and leaving for your own home. The tall man was polite back, but for the third time that night, his torso felt odd inside. He wanted to ask you to stay, maybe offer you a drink and slip a sedative into it, that way you'd stay the night, but no, he refrained from stopping you. If you drug her, she'll wake up tomorrow and be terrified of you. Maybe even call the cops. He told himself as he shut his door behind you. However, the thoughts were already there, making him groan. What is going on with me?! I'm losing control of myself so easily now. he thought, rubbing his face as if that would wipe away the bubbling waves of dark lust that were once again flooding his mind with images of you naked beneath him, calling out his name, mixing with the urge to control that he usually kept a close eye on. This is absolutely pathetic. She's not even that attractive! He chided himself, glaring down at the growing bulge in his pants as if it were to blame for his urges. Which, to a point was true, but either way it still twitched, demanding to be tended to. However, he refused to masturbate again. His sperm was precious, and while he could produce quite enough to impregnate a woman despite such a shameful act, he didn't like wasting his DNA. So, for a bit, he tried to cook up ways to relieve himself, unable to shake the lustful thoughts of you. Could he wait until tomorrow and lure you over again? No, that'd leave a horrid impression of him in your mind. Maybe he could sneak some aphrodisiacs into your food and than offer to help? No, that'd take too long, and he didn't know how long he could control his lust. Around eleven or so, Illumi finally came up with a satisfactory method. So, he turned his lights off and slipped out into the cool night to slither across the street and into your dark home. It was late enough that he knew you were asleep, so he was free to make his way in and towards your bedroom, What he wasn't expecting though, was to find you sleeping on your couch, your blanket fallen to the floor, revealing your pajamas to him. The sight only seemed to throw gasoline on the fire of neglected needs within him.       "now this is simply inappropriate," he breathed, shaking his head at your baggy t-shirt and (random color) panties, "(y/n), you should know better. Such outfits should be saved for your husband." He kept his voice low, making sure not to wake you as he chided you and his lightless eyes zeroed in on the bit of panty he could see with the way your shirt was ridden up ever so slightly. teasingly. He sighed, this would make his plan easier anyway. So, he just pulled out a needle of sedative and carefully moved you so that he could get access to your neck without waking you, sticking the needle in and injecting you with the fast acting drug. Within a few moments you were certain to stir for nothing less than a natural disaster, so he was free to do whatever he wished. The assassin's body burned with lust, his cock throbbing within his pants while he moved your thighs apart, revealing more of your panties. You weren't much to look at, he'd seen prettier women, but the feeling of your perfectly malleable thigh in his hand, seeing you so complacent and welcoming for him while his hormones were so out of control, you could've passed as a goddess in that moment. He wasted no time in removing your underwear, leaving your shirt and bra on so it'd be less work afterwards, revealing your most intimate parts to him with no arguments. It gave him such a rush to see you so obediently laying on your back, your legs apart and welcoming. your vulnerability was like a form of foreplay for him, but when he ran a slender finger up your slit and realized just how dry you were, it ruined his fantasy. Though, not enough to deter him. Instead of stopping, Illumi simply pushed your shirt up with your bra, using one hand to massage your breast while he kissed down your sternum and up the soft mound of flesh. His free hand slipped between the two of you, rubbing slow circles around your clit until breathy whines and moans slipped from your lips. Carefully, he teased your nipple between his fingers, simultaneously moving up to your throat until he found the spot that made you gasp and whine in your sleep again. The only downside was despite how badly he wanted to mark you, he couldn't. He had to wait until he securely had you, until then he couldn't leave any visual evidence of his actions. So, he nibbled and kissed the spot, but didn't bite too roughly and claim you. He simply teased you, rubbing your clit, massaging your breasts or hip, and pressing hungry kisses to your unresponsive lips until he could dip his fingers down into your warmth and pull them back coated with a healthy amount of slick. With you properly aroused, he eagerly freed his throbbing dick from his pants, giving himself a few pumps before running the head up and down your slit, making you hum at the stimulation. God, how he relished how your face twitched and you groaned at the feeling of him grabbing one of your legs with one of his hands before pushing into you. God the tight warmth alone could've made him cum, but he once again held himself back. He'd gone this far, he wasn't about to squander the opportunity to indulge himself by not savoring it. No, He simply grabbed your hips once fully inside and began moving, pretty soon slapping his hips into yours roughly. He might regret being so aggressive later, when it undoubtedly left you sore, or at the very least left bruises and scratches, but right now he just enjoyed the way your pussy squeezed around him and your breasts bounced with each rough thrust into your womb. He let out a few soft noises after a bit when the waves of pleasure began fogging over his mind again. The combination of your breathy moans, your warmth squeezing around him, begging to be filled, and the possessive urge to claim you continuously driving him forward, encouraging him to go until the blinding waves of pleasure erupted and he stilled himself so that every drop of cum was safely inside of your womb. It took him longer than usual to regain his composure afterwards, but when he did he swiftly pulled out, pulling his pants up and slipping your panties back onto you before too much of his essence escaped. He grimaced at the marks of his nails on your (s/c) flesh, though hopefully they would fade before you noticed. Right now though, his main priority was to get out of your home, and leave as little evidence as possible, save for his cum. He refused to feel sorry for filling his obviously needy wife with perfectly good semen. That's right. his wife. The phrase seemed to fit perfectly.

[my-emotional-self]

Toxic Love Chapter 6

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing.  But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings:  18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide, nightmares

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story!  I apologize in advance!

After Steve and Bucky helped you get everything unpacked, the three of you enjoyed some take-out. Pizza to be exact.  Well, the same pizza you had earlier with them.  You had been craving it for the last two weeks and your stomach was very happy.  

“Did you make your grocery list yet?” Bucky asked as he took care of the cleaning up.  

You couldn’t help but laugh. As you were unpacking the few items you had for your personal kitchen, you began playing with the screen on the refrigerator.  You couldn’t believe the high tech gadget and while it took you nearly an hour, you finally figured out how to add groceries to the list.  

“I did.  I’m surprised I was able to figure it out, it only took me about an hour,” you responded.

This made Bucky full out laugh.  “An hour? That’s actually impressive.  It took Steve here almost a month to figure it out before he finally gave up and asked for help.”

Trying to hide your smirk, you turned to look at Steve.  He had a scowl on his face as he was looking at Bucky.  “Let’s not forget I was frozen for 70 years.  I’m still trying to learn all this damn technology.”

Leaning over you pressed a kiss to Steve’s temple.  “Don’t worry about it Steve.  Other than my gaming setup, I’m not too big on technology either.”

~~~

“Dad, I’m home!” you called out to your father as you shut the front door to the run down farmhouse.  It was just the two of you now ever since your mother’s death one year ago today.  You didn’t want to go to school, you wanted to stay home.  Stay in bed.  But your father said it would be best to try and continue on like it was any other normal day.  It would never be a normal day.  Ever again.

As you turned the corner and into the living room, you saw him. Your father.  Dead.  Hanging from the wooden ceiling beam with a noose around his neck.  “Dad?” you choked out, not believing that this was happening again.  “No. No, no, no, no, NO!” you screamed as you ran to him.  Upon touching his leg you knew it was too late.  Way too late.  He was so cold to the touch.  It had been hours since he committed suicide and you weren’t here for him.  

“Why dad!  WHY DID YOU DO THIS!  DON’T LEAVE ME PLEASE!  DON’T LEAVE ME ALONE!!” you cried and begged but it was no use.  He too was now gone.  

~~~

You jolted awake by the feeling of hands on you.  Your breathing was ragged and you were dripping in sweat.  Both Steve and Bucky on either side of you; their eyes filled with worry.

“Are you alright?” Steve questioned.  

“How..did you…get in…here,” you replied as you tried to catch your breath.  These kinds of nightmares always made you feel like you had just ran a marathon.  

“F.R.I.D.A.Y alerted us that your heart rate was going through the roof.  You scared us half to death with your screaming doll,” Bucky spoke quietly in the dark room.  “You feel warm,” he said as he placed the back of his flesh hand over your forehead.

Shrugging him away as nicely as possible, you got out of bed.  “I’m fine.  I’m just going to take a cool shower.  Thanks for coming to check on me though.”

Inside the confines of your bathroom you opened the medicine cabinet and took out a couple of bottles. Filling up a glass of cold water, you placed the pills in your mouth and downed the entire glass.  

It had been months since you last had a nightmare.  To be honest, you thought they were finally done with, until you realized the todays date. Of course.  It was the anniversary of your parents’ death.  How could you have forgotten?  Oh right.  You had met your soulmates and spent the entire day moving into your new place.  Now you felt guilty for even forgetting in the first place.  

As you stripped of your sweat soaked clothing, you hopped into the shower.  The water mixed with your tears as you quietly sobbed and asked your parents for forgiveness.  

~~~

When you got out of the shower, Steve and Bucky were no longer in your room.  Instead, you found a little note on your pillow.  

We didn’t know if we should give you space or wait for you so we will let you make that decision.  Let us know if you need us to come back tonight.  Try and get some sleep sweetheart.  

Steve and Bucky

Even though the note was sweet and thoughtful, you knew instantly that you would not be getting any more sleep tonight.  

By eight in the morning you were still awake and scrolling through social media when a text from Bucky came in.  

Bucky: Breakfast in the communal kitchen?  Everyone would like to meet you.

Oh god.  You were dreading this part.  You had already met Natasha, but to meet everyone else all at once? Anxiety began to creep over you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to meet them, it was that you had anxiety about meeting people for the first time.

Y/N: Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready

Jumping out of bed you headed for the closet to try and figure out what to wear.  Was this casual?  Or was everyone going to be wearing their pajamas?  Did you want to dress to impress them?  Or did you want to be yourself?  You went with the latter, figuring if you were going to all be living under the same roof, they might as well get to know the real you.  

You put on a pair of black skinny ripped jeans and a plain forest green t-shirt.  Slipping your feet into your comfortable black flats, you were about to head out the door when you took a look at yourself in mirror.  Steve would blow a fuse at the dark circles under your eyes.  So you quickly placed some concealer under your eyes.  

Steve and Bucky were waiting for you in the kitchen and the three of you headed down to the communal living area.  They didn’t ask you about your nightmare and you were grateful for that.  

The elevator doors opened and for once, your stomach growled at the smell of breakfast in the morning. You loved breakfast food, but you weren’t big on eating in the morning.  Now breakfast for dinner, that was something you could eat every night.

Steve cleared his throat and everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at the three of you. Instantly you felt your face heat up.

“Everyone, this is our soulmate Y/N,” Steve spoke loud and clear.  He began pointing everyone out for you.  “That’s Tony, Pepper and Bruce.  You know Natasha of course and right there is Clint and Darcy.  Thor and Jane are still on Asgard but you’ll meet them another time.”

You awkwardly waved.  “Hey everybody.”

Tony was the first to come up to you and he shook your hand.  “Tony I can’t thank you enough for my rooms here.  They are perfect.”

He waved his hand like it was no big deal.  “Please. My gift to you.  And that is why I pay my interior designer the big bucks. She knows what she’s doing.  Now, if you need anything, anything at all, just ask F.R.I.D.A.Y and I’ll make it happen.  Happy to have you here kiddo.  Maybe you can keep those two out of trouble huh?”

“I’ll try,” you chuckled.

Just then Bruce came up and the two of you exchanged quiet ‘hellos’ before he and Tony were off to their lab, food and coffee in hand.  

“Hey, now that you’re here, maybe Cap will stop being such a grouch all the time now that he’ll get laid,” Clint blurted out and as quickly as the words left his mouth, Natasha smacked him upside the head.  “What? It’s the truth.  No offense Steve but you have been a real crab ass the last few months.”

“Shut up Clint!” Darcy spoke as she shoved him out of the way.  “Hi there.  I’m Darcy. Darcy Lewis.  Just ignore him.  He doesn’t think before he speaks.”

In that moment, you knew you were going to be good friends with Darcy.  “Nice to meet you Darcy.”

“Now I hear that you game, is that correct?” she began to say as the two of you piled food onto your plates and sat down.  

The morning didn’t go as bad as you thought.  The only downside was that it now seemed Steve was in a bad mood because of Clint’s big mouth. At least you were getting to know Darcy and Pepper and they both were really nice.  

Darcy asked you a lot of questions about your job and gaming.  She had even asked if she could sit in on a night that you worked so she could watch everything.  Of course you said she could.  Hell, it would be fun to have Darcy there.  

You were starting to get tired after not getting much sleep so you excused yourself and went back to your room.  Tonight would be the first night that you will be working at the tower and you wanted to try and get some rest.  You had a feeling it was going to be a long night.  

“Is everything alright sweetheart?” Steve’s voice startled you just as you were about to open your door.

“Jesus Steve, don’t sneak up on me like that,” you replied with a hand on your heart.  

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to.  I just wanted to make sure you were feeling alright.  Especially after last night is all.”

Dropping your hand from your chest, you gave him a tight smile and put your arms around his narrow waist, pulling him in for a hug.  “I’m ok Steve.  Just a little tired is all.”

He placed his chin on your head and held you in his arms.  You felt safe against him.  Like nothing or no one could ever hurt you.  You were starting to realize that maybe single life wasn’t what you truly wanted. Single life was just something that you had become accustomed to over the last year.  Maybe being in a relationship again would be better for you.

[sweeetcreatvre]

God-Sent Angel

“I lied to you, Harry.” You looked up at him waiting for an answer and hoping he doesn’t get too upset with you.

a/n: i’ve been in a mood!! these last few days. i haven’t written in forever, but this idea popped into my head and the words just floated onto the page. i hope you guys like it! i am a very small page still, so if you see this if you could like, repost, and consider following i will love you forever. thank you for reading 🤍

pairing: harry x reader

warnings: explicit talk of mental/emotional abuse, please don’t read if you can’t handle it. this was heavily based off of my experience with my parents. this is not meant to try and romanticize abuse in any way, and please don’t take it like that. abuse is not fun, there’s no good side to it. a little angsty? fluff

word count: ~2.6k

•••

You met Harry when Sarah and Mitch introduced the two of you a little over a year ago. Sarah’s your best friend, you’ve known her since uni, and she’d convinced you to meet Harry by telling you that it would just make it easier for the two of you to hang out if they didn’t have to split their time between you and Harry and you all just hung out together.

You immediately took a liking to Harry. Because of your horrid anxiety and how awkward it made you, you usually hold back until you know people a little better, but something about Harry put you at such ease with him.

You hung out a couple times alone as “friends”, but both realized it was more than that when you declined Sarah and Mitch’s offer to go out because you already had a date with chinese take out and a line up of rom-coms you’d planned to watch for the night.

You and Harry bonded over cheesy movies. With his busy schedule and how difficult it is for him to go in public, you would watch movies at one of your homes and then reenact the scenes with him.

Things with Harry were easy, he made you happy, and he put you at ease.

•••

You went home to Manchester with Harry one day and truly had the best time. You loved how much his family cared for each other, and how they interacted.

That night, as you were laying on his chest in Anne’s guest room bed, you spoke the words that had been in your head all night, “I hope our family is like yours one day.” You didn’t really plan on saying it, the words just kind of came out.

You were worried you’d scared Harry by being so open about kids with him. You were serious obviously, having met his family and everything, but you hadn’t really talked about kids yet.

He still hadn’t talked causing you to look up at him and sit up a little. “I mean, not that we’re having kids or anything anytime soon, I just thought maybe one day, or not, That’s fine too.” You let it all back in one breath wishing you would’ve kept your mouth shut.

He pulled you back to his chest and kissed the top of your forehead before whispering, “(y/n), I want nothing more than to have a family with you one day. I love you, and I plan on keeping you around for as long as you’ll let me.”

You smile into his chest and place a soft kiss there. “I love you too,” your voice is muffled by his chest.

•••

After you met Anne and Gemma, Harry kept begging you to introduce him to your family. For a while you were able to put it off, saying they were in America, which is true, but not the reason you won’t let him meet them.

Your parents were... difficult. They never hit you growing up, not enough to leave any marks at least, but they yelled, and got angry, and got drunk, and got manipulative. Because they never hit you, it took you a long time to accept what they were doing was abuse.

When you turned 18 you applied to colleges abroad and got accepted into a university in England, you haven’t looked back since. Your parents were always the thing holding you back in life, so 3 years later, when your little brother turned 18 and moved out of the house, you cut off all communication with them. You still talk to your siblings, them being the only thing that kept you sane. You talked to them almost daily, and sometimes you’d even go visit them. Your oldest sister came to England a few times, her being the only one you fully trusted to not tell your parents where you lived.

But telling all of that to Harry was not something you were interested in. It was too much baggage, and no one ever understood how you could just cut off the people who raised you. It was always “They’re your parents, they love you, give them a second chance.” and you’re tired of hearing how you’re hurting them when they hurt you for 18 years.

So you made up excuses as to why he couldn’t meet them for as long as possible.

You spent your first Christmas together at Anne’s saying you couldn’t afford to go home, and you refused to take the money Harry offered to buy you a ticket.

That summer you compromised with him and your older sister came to stay with you.

Harry loved your sister. He said you act so similar, and he loves seeing you so happy. Your sister brings out a different side of you, and Harry adored it.

That also meant he just wanted to see more of your family.

•••

Harry had never spent a Christmas away from his family, and you didn’t want to spend Christmas away from him, so you were hoping that was enough for him to accept you not going home.

As you walked into Harry’s home after work he calls out to you “I’m in the kitchen, love!”

You walk into the kitchen and immediately your senses get filled with a pleasant smell. As you walk in, he turns from the stove to give you a kiss, but he holds you in his arms as you pull away from each other.

“Hi, baby,” you half-whisper half-laugh out to him.

“I missed you today,” he began pressing more kisses to your jaw then down your neck, but they were slow and sweet.

Your arms around his neck, you play with the hair at the nape of his neck, loving that it’s growing long again, the curls tangling in your fingers.

“What’s for dinner it smells delicious?” you ask him as he’s still kissing at your neck.

“You smell delicious, I’ll have you,” he mumbles in between kisses, but then his kisses picked up a faster pace and got more toothy.

You laugh at him and then gasp as he’s biting at your skin then soothing it with his tongue. However, you push him away because you’re starved, only having a small lunch because you had a busy day. “Baby, I’d love to but I’m starved, feed me first.”

He laughs at you then turns back to the stove. He lifts the lid on the soup pot so you were able to look inside. “I made your favorite, figured it would be nice for the snowy day it is.”

You smile at him, he never fails to make you so happy by doing simple things for you.

Your whole life you struggled with feeling like your presence was too much. Always calming yourself down so you were never too excited or too sad or asking for too much.

Harry never made you feel like that though. He went above and beyond for you time after time and you loved that about him. He’d never take your praises for it either. “‘s no big deal, just wanted to remind you how much I love you,” he would say, but to you that was a huge deal.

After you eat you clean up the dishes together and you’re ready to cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie with him, but Harry has other plans for the evening.

“I have an early Christmas present for you,” he says after coming back from his bedroom where he disappeared for a few minutes.

“Harry..” you started, but he silenced you with his finger pressing to your lips.

“It’s for both of us really, and it can’t wait until Christmas, so you have to open it now,” he places a small wrapped box in front of you, “go on.”

You hesitantly untie the bow holding the top to the bow then take the lid off. Inside there’s two pieces of paper, two plane tickets. You read the information on the tickets and see that they’re round trip from the 22nd to the 26th and they’re to Indianapolis airport. AKA Harry has planned a trip for the two of you to go home together for Christmas so he can meet the rest of your family. Shit.

You stare at the tickets in disbelief, then at him, then back to the tickets. “H..” you start but you trail off, not even knowing what to do about this. He spent hundreds of dollars on you to meet your family, and gave up Christmas with his own too, and there’s no way you’re going.

He seems to pick up on the fact that you’ve been awfully silent. “Ya gonna say anything?” he asks carefully. You can hear in his voice that he’s afraid he’s messed up, but he’s trying to hide it with a smile and joke. He’s being so hesitant with you, scared to make a move or say anything.

You look up at him with shiny eyes, tears threatening to fall over. You were gonna say something now, but before you could Harry started again.

“Oh, God, I messed up didn’t I? I- I shouldn’t have done all this planning without even asking you. I shouldn’t have just invited myself home with you. You know what, it’s fine I don’t care about my ticket, you can go by yourself, I’ll stay here. You never see your family, I mean I should’ve known you would want to be alone with them. You go, I’ll stay here, I don’t care, just please stop looking at me like that or I swear to God I’ll start crying too. You’re the only thing I’ve ever been this scared to lose, I don’t care what you need. Take it, take it all.” The whole thing is rushed out and you can tell he’s freaking out.

You grab his hand, still in your place on the couch and he’s standing in front of you. You intertwine your fingers, “Can you sit down?” you whisper softy to him. He looks at you for a moment before moving to sit next to you, but you’re both turned sideways so you’re still facing each other.

“You can tell me if you don’t want me to come I won’t be upset.” He sounds so heartbroken by the idea that he’s scaring you off and it’s killing you.

“No, H, no, baby. I don’t want you going, but I’m also not going to go. It’s not the gift I love it, and I love that you always try to buy me the most personalized gift, but I just- I can’t go home.”

“I don’t understand. Your family is there, you- you should go be with them for Christmas.”

Staring at your hands in your lap you think of how you’re going to tell him this. “I lied to you, Harry.” You looked up at him waiting for an answer and hoping he doesn’t get too upset with you.

“What?” He’s not mad, just more confused.

“You haven’t met my family because I don’t talk to them anymore. My parents, I mean. I obviously talk to my siblings, you know i talk to them, but not my parents. I haven’t spoken to them in 4 years, and I intend to keep it that way.” A few tears have slipped down your face and your voice keeps breaking.

“Can I ask why?” His hand comes to rest on your cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb.

“They were abusive,” you barely whisper the words and Harry has you in his arms immediately his chin rests on the top of your head, and with shaky breath you cry into his chest, holding tightly around his waist feeling so vulnerable and exposed right now. You’re sitting sideways in his lap, one of his hands is on your back, the other on your waist and his thumb is rubbing back and forth on the small bit of exposed skin above your pants where your shirt has ridden up.

When your breathing has gotten a little more normal, you look up at him and he places a kiss on your forehead. “They weren’t physical, but the screamed.. a lot” your voice sounded weak, but it wasn’t as shaky.

“You don’t have to tell me. If you don’t want to, I mean. I believe you.” You shake your head.

“I want to tell you.” You felt so bad for lying to him for so long. “It wasn’t ever bad until I was like 11 or 12. My sister says she believes it’s just because she took a lot of the heat.” You have 2 older sisters, Charlotte and Sarah, they’re 9 and 11 years older than you. Your oldest sister was the target of a lot of their stunts. “She moved out when I was 8, Sarah when I was 9, and we had a couple good years. Then we moved in with my grandma, and shit hit the fan.”

“I struggled with the workload of my classes, and they didn’t like that, said it made them look bad. My dad would get mad and yell, he even told me he hated me once. My mom checked on them obsessively, and I’d get angry messages about how bad I’m doing during the school day.”

“When my grandma got super sick, everything got ten times worse. She was my rock and I saw her declining everyday from January-August. My dad continued to be up my ass about grades, while also drinking ridiculous amounts. My mom fell into what I think was a depressive episode, and would come home late and say things like ‘I didn’t come home because no body values me here anyways’ but not in a way that was sad, she’d be angry about it and yell about it to us.”

“After she died I had to learn to live without her, and I had no clue just how much she was keeping us together. The next 3 years was constant screaming and manipulation. My grades slipped a little, and they hated that I wasn’t their perfect little prodigy who just pranced around knowing everything anymore. They made me feel so worthless, and like my entire existence was a burden. I was too loud, and too talkative, and too lazy, but not smart enough, and I didn’t work hard enough, and I had no pride in the things I did.” You paused for a minute.

“You’re the only person that’s ever made me feel like I’m not too much or too little.” You whisper out the confession to him knowing that it is how you truly feel about him. “I moved here when I was 18, and cut off all ties with them when Carson turned 18. 3 years later. I’m the only one of us to actually do it, but I’m just so much happier without them in my life.”

“I’m convinced you’re an angel,” His voice cracks and you look up to him to notice he’s shed tear or two and more are threatening to slip out, “sent for me, straight from the gods, because I don’t think any human is as amazing as you. I don’t have any idea what I did to deserve and angel like you, but I’m never letting you go. I love you, and I love that you’ll cry in my arms and how open you are with me. You really are a god-sent fucking angel.” He’s cupping your face in his large hand now. “We won’t go to the States for Christmas. We’ll go to Manchester, and we’ll spend it with my mom and sister.”

“I’m sorry we’re not going, I know how bad you wanted to meet them.”

“No, baby, it’s ok. We’ll spend all the Christmases here, and one day we’ll host Christmas. With our family that will be just like mine, like you said you wanted the first time you met Mom and Gem. You’re gonna be so happy, that’s my life mission, to make my heavenly angel happy.”

“I am happy, H. Right here, with you.”

[morizoras-cave]

Purple Patches

Benedict Cumberbatch x Teen!Co-Star!Reader, Tom Holland x Teen!Co-star!Reader

Genre: Angst, fluffy ending

Description: Filming the newest Dr. Strange movie (in which Tom would also appear), you grow quite close with the two leads, Tom and Benedict. But you’re hiding something alarming from them. Four months in the entire crew get a week off to see their families for Christmas, and when you return Tom and Benedict can’t help but feel troubled, as your body is rippled with purple patches.

Warnings: CHILD ABUSE, physical abuse, broken family, alcoholism, depression, anxiety??

A/N: I had another imagine written but im ngl its kind of.. weird? its unconventional for sure. and its definitely bad. so, maybe ill rewrite someday or something? ALSO SORRY IF YOU DONT CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS, JUST IMAGINE YOU HAVE SOME SORT OF EVIL CHRISTIAN STEP DAD WHO FORCES IT INTO YOUR FAMILY

The taxi you sat in drove slowly in the New York traffic, as snow fell outside, coating the entire city in blinding white. You couldn’t enjoy it however. Your entire body hurt, and yet you still couldn’t find even a moment to worry about your health. All you could think about was them.

Tom and Benedict. Your sweetest coworkers, and at this point your closest.. anything. Family, friends? Who cares, you had no one else. You’d gone back for the holidays like everyone else, even though you wished you could have just stayed at in your trailer. Your dad, like any other time you saw him, had used this time to pour his anger and alcoholism out on you. Your body which had finally begun to heal, was now back to square one, covered in cuts and bruises. 

You knew what would happen if anyone found out. You’d be taken from your family. But in truth, although you hated being around him, you wanted to wait for your dad. You wanted to wait for him to get over his alcoholism, you wanted him to get better, and then he’d treat you better. 

But they would find out. You were covered in bruises and purple patches. Your face was fine, except for your neck, but the rest of your body was ruined. Ugly. You could hide most of it, but it hurt. Even just sitting there, in the soft and plush taxi seat, you body was aching and wailing like a police siren. 

And what if they noticed you foundation-covered hands? Or the movie required you to wear something more revealing? 

“You okay?” the deep voice of your taxi driver ripped you from your thoughts. A single tear had slid down your face. You cleared your throat and nodded, wiping the tear from your cheek. 

You arrived at the set, and an impossible knot had been tied in your stomach. Nervousness tingled in your heart and your legs, but you got up anyway, trying to calm your breath. The moment you stood up, you winced and stopped. 

You managed to roll your luggage to your trailer, biting your lip continuously in order to keep yourself from screaming. You threw it on the floor of your trailer, whimpering and doubling over in pain. 

“Y/n!” a rapid knock on your door, interrupted you. It was Tom’s voice. You took a shaky breath, closing your eyes, and then opening the door. Tom stood there in your doorway like a smiling idiot. Your lips widened into a smile just from seeing him.

“Y/n!” he repeated stepping inside and wrapping his arms around you in a hug. You bit your lip again, hiding your pain-wrenched face in his chest, before hugging him back. He placed his head on yours sweetly. “I missed you!” he gushed. 

You hit his chest playfully, “I missed you too,” you frowned for a moment and looked away. Tom’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you okay?” You simply nodded. Tom stared at you for a moment and then shook his head. “Anyway, um, Benedict asked me to tell you that he’s invited both of us youngsters out for dinner tonight. Just as one last ‘fuck you!’ to work, before officially start back up tomorrow.”

“That does sound like something he would do,” you agreed and Tom laughed, punching your shoulder playfully. You yelped loudly, retreating quickly from him. 

“Woah,” he exclaimed, holding his hands up, “Are you okay? What happened to your shoulder?” 

“I fell,” you said. Nervousness jabbed at your ribs. You’d barely talked to Tom for a minute and he’d already asked if you were okay twice. He seemed to buy your explanation, and apologized for accidentally hitting your sore shoulder, to which you nodded absently. 

Tom was silent for a couple of heartbeats. He studied you. You were not usually like this. Or maybe you had been a little like this those four months ago, when you first started filming. He didn’t understand what caused you to be that way, so distant and unhappy. 

“Hey, anyway, I’m gonna go, I’m trying to actually read the script this time,” he joked, and you laughed because you knew it was a hopeless task. 

“Have fun,” you mumbled, and as soon he left, you body slid down against the wall, and your facade crumbled, tears leaving your eyes.

___________________________

Before the dinner, you took three pain killers. Then, you waited restlessly, hoping that the pills might kick in. They did but your body felt strange and buzzy. You ignored it, a blossoming hope forming in your chest that you might be able to conceal your pain in the pills and the clothing. 

Benedict came knocking on your door around 7, a smile on his face. “Y/n!” he said, and you both hugged. A small smile had formed on your lips, when you actually managed to deal with the ache, now much weaker than previously.

You both then walked to Tom’s trailer, and then the three of you walked to a restaurant, not too far from your filming location.

“So, what have you two been up to in our little break?” Benedict asked once you all sat down, having ordered already. You glanced at Tom, hoping that he’d start. 

“Me and my brothers went back home to our mum and dad. Had a pretty regular Christmas. I gave the best gifts. I got some pretty cool socks,” Tom joked around. You and Benedict stifled a laugh. Then both Ben and Tom looked at you, and you realized it was your turn to tell them about what you’d been up to. 

“Oh, well, I.. I spent Christmas with my parents. My grandparents and cousins also came,” you were lying through your teeth. You avoided their eyes, sipping your soda. 

“Got any presents?” Benedict asked and you cursed at yourself internally for forgetting such a simple part of Christmas. And for making things awkward. 

“I got some clothes, some books. Pretty standard stuff,” you forced a smile, “What about you, Benadryl?”

Benedict rolled his eyes at your comment, making you and Tom fist-bump one another, giggling quietly as he told you about his own Christmas. The night was going alright, except for that rough start. Mostly you avoided any talk of your family, and you could feel yourself getting better, the further the conversation got from your family. Until-

“Y/n, what’s that on your hand?” 

Instinctively, you pulled your hand to your lap, straightening yourself up and gulping. You looked down, pretending to inspect it and then looked up. 

“It’s, uh, it’s dirt. Wow, I should really go wash my hands, haha-” Tom grabbed your hand from under the table, pulling it towards him. Your foundation was wearing off, a large purple patch stemming from your wrist and snaking up your hand revealing itself. 

You couldn’t breathe. Both Tom and Ben just stared at it. You tried to pull back but Tom was much stronger than you. Tears blurred your vision. 

“Y/n, what is this?” Tom whispered, and you felt his fingers rubbing the bruise gently. The tears finally fell, and now both men were looking at you. Benedict looked serious. It was an expression you’d never really seen on his features before, at least not outside of your acting. 

“I-I fell..” you mumbled, but you knew it was useless. 

“Y/n.. Who did this?” Benedict’s voice was low, gently setting a hand on your shoulder. You flinched. 

“I don’t know.. I don’t..” 

“Y/n!” Tom’s voice was raised. You immediately jumped away from them both, putting your arms in front of you in fear. Several people turned to look at you three. Shaking, you lowered your hands, and saw Tom and Ben staring at you worriedly. Tom had tears in his eyes. 

“Let’s talk about this back at the studio, okay?” Benedict, now afraid to touch you, spoke slowly and comfortingly. You nodded and then two men got up, standing on either side of you, grabbing one of your hands each. 

“Was it your dad?” Tom growled as you walked in the night, moon rising in the sky. 

“Yes..” you whispered, so low you wondered if they heard it, but they did. They both exchanged glances. Tom was furious. Benedict was too, but he was collected. Tom itched to ask you more and help you, console you right there on the street, but Benedict sent him a warning look not to. 

You walked back to the studio in silence. The three of you entered your trailer and you quietly wished you had predicted something like this would happen, because the bottle of strong pain killers was still out and open on your kitchen table. 

Benedict spotted them immediately and grabbed them. His eyes narrowed as he read the bottle description. Then he looked at you and then it again. Tom watched helplessly, holding your shoulders gently. 

“How many more are there? Bruises.” Ben was clearly angry. He was losing his cool, hands shaking as he grabbed your hand to pull up your sleeve. You tried to move his hand away, but he slid the sleeve up to your elbow and just stared at the blue, yellow and purple that littered your arm. Tom was frozen beside you. 

Ben slid up your other sleeve, breathing speeding up as he saw more, and then he tugged at the collar of your turtleneck, exposing the jarring and ugly sight of a red handprint. He pulled away suddenly, walking away from you. 

“Fuck!” he yelled, hitting the wall of the trailer. He hung his head low. You jumped and turned around, but Tom simply embraced you, and then sat you both down on the floor. You hid your face in his neck, sobbing again. Tom’s hands slowly rubbed your back. 

“Okay..” said Benedict after a while. You could hear that he’d calmed down. Ben angrily wiped a few tears from his face, turning to you and Tom on the floor. Tom was simply frowning now. He never wanted to let you go. He never wanted any harm to come to you. 

“I’m gonna call the police and get your dad arrested,” he said, and you heard his footsteps, as he wondered what to do next. 

“No!” you exclaimed, scrambling to your feet away from Tom. Both men looked at you in confusion. “No! You can’t do that, he’s- he’s just trying to get better. If I wait a little longer, he’s going to get better.” 

“Y/n..” Benedict whispered sadly and you ran to him hoping to stop him. “You can’t wait for him. You’re putting yourself in danger..” you shook your head, but Ben grabbed your shoulders and looked into your eyes, “he’s a grown man, Y/n. He doesn’t deserve pity or patience. Not after doing this. Nothing excuses this. Nothing.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, lip quivering, but still you nodded. 

“Can your mother take care of you?” Ben asked, piercing blue eyes still staring into your soul. There was no point in lying anymore, you knew. 

“No.” 

“Alright, then you’ll stay with me.” Ben declared, “You’ll stay with me until we can find someone from your family who can take care of you.” You looked up at him with shining eyes. Despite the uncomfortable situation you found yourself in, a genuine smile broke out on your face. 

You hugged him, thanking him breathlessly. Ben and Tom made eye contact, and smiled gently at each other. Tom had cried silently at your interaction. The thought that someone would hurt someone he loved so dearly shattered his heart completely. 

“Now,” Benedict said finally, “we need to drive you to the hospital.” 

You agreed and while Tom drove, Ben was in the backseat on the phone with the police department. You just watched the beautiful neon lights shining in the pitch black night, snow illuminating the ground. People still littered the streets. 

You knew it now. Your father didn’t deserve your waiting, and though it would take very long to finally live with and truly understand, it was worth it to start the fight. You truly owed it to the two jerks you worked with. What would you even do with out them?

[knifefather]

Hello guys! Uploading this chapter of Tutor Me for yall on tumblr! Only one more chapter to go before the story is complete. It’s been so fun to write this and I hope you enjoy this emotional train wreck of a chapter! Don’t worry though, I plan to finish Reader and Diego’s story with a bang, if you know what I mean! Anyway, I bring to you, chapter 5~

➼ Title: Tutor Me, Chapter 5 ➼ Pairing(s): Diego Brando/Reader, Johnny Joestar/Reader, Johnny Joestar/Gyro Zeppeli ➼ Fandom: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure ➼ Word Count: 4.3k ➼ Rating: Explicit, 18+ ➼ Contains: Chubby AFAB!Reader, college AU, angst, alcoholism, parental abuse, hurt and comfort. Grab your tissues!

ミ★ View this on ao3! ★彡

ミ★ Ko-Fi | Commissions Info ★彡

Preview

“This wasn’t supposed to happen...” he proclaimed, his tone growing more grave the more that he talked.

I wasn’t supposed to fall for you, he thought to himself, a crease settling into his brow. You were supposed to be a quick fuck. An experiment. That was all. But now look at where we are...

A soft look passed over his eyes before his expression contorted back to agitation. He angrily wiped the tears from his face and a bit of snot from his nose. When he moved his hand away, his expression was more determined than ever.

“Now get out of my way.”

Diego clasped the buckle on his helmet, straightening his posture and squaring his shoulders, before walking away from you yet again.

You stood behind him, mouth open, unable to even begin to form words. The dirt of the track whipped around you as a breeze passed through the stadium. The dust swirled around Diego as if it parted for him and only him, leading him towards victory.

The brightly lit stadium was packed to the brim with jockeys, paparazzi, and audience members when you arrived. You drew in a deep breath to calm your nerves, causing the thick, hot air to catch in your lungs. The atmosphere was almost oppressive as you made your way towards the admission line. Johnny, Gyro, and Hot Pants were already down on the track, having practiced for several hours before the actual tournament began. You were excited to see your friends but anxious about seeing Diego. Being around him tonight was a certainty that you had to deal with. Your throat grew dry at the realization, and you fleetingly thought about hitting the concession stand after you said hi to your friends.

You waited in line with the other attendees for God knows how long before the worker behind the counter took your ticket, allowing you entry. Quickly, you zipped past the stands and pushed through the crowds, heading down to the track before one of the staff members could stop you. As you made your way across the dirt, Johnny and the crew noticed you approaching and waved you closer. Your face broke out in a large smile as you neared them.

They all looked amazing: Hot Pants was dressed in her signature pink riding outfit and Johnny in his starry blue one. He looked cuter than you wanted to admit, and you adverted your eyes before you could be caught staring. Gyro looked more or less the same, but something about him seemed a bit more put together than usual. He gave you a distrustful look as you approached.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you made it!” Johnny said happily, wheeling over to you. His bright blue lips were tugged in a warm smile that made you forget about your anxiety for a moment.

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world,” you replied.

In the distance, you could see the flashes of the paparazzi’s cameras aimed at the racers. There was a group of them nearby, snapping photos of a rider that was posing with their star racehorse. You knew it was a matter of time before the hoard would come to pester Johnny and the rest of the gang with photos and questions. You were correct in your assumptions: After a few moments of chatting amongst yourselves, the paparazzi interrupted your conversation with the crew by tapping Johnny on the shoulder and pushing a camera into his face. The interviewer flashed a too-white smile before looking into a camera that was held by another paparazzi. “And here we have racer number 7, Johnny Joestar! Johnny, tell us a little bit about your horse and hopes for the race,” they finished, whipping the microphone in his direction. His blue eyes went wide for a moment before clearing his throat. “Well…” He answered as swiftly as he could before he was hit with another barrage of questions.

As Johnny was being interviewed, several cameras snapped at Hot Pants, her outfit being praised by the rest of the team. She knew how to pose, too, and struck a different one every few seconds. Meanwhile, you had been more or less been pushed to the side and out of the cameras’ view. You looked at the scene, not envying your friends at all. Strangely enough, you noticed Gyro was standing off to the side as well, a pleased smile on his face. Unsure of how he would respond, you edged closer to him in hopes of making conversation, especially after the strange look he gave you earlier.

“What are you smiling about?” you asked innocuously, raising your voice a bit over the busy sounds of the stadium.

Gyro met your gaze, his expression shifting through a few different emotions before replying to you. “They don’t really like me,” he said.

You cocked a brow. “Why not? You’re a pretty good jockey.”

Gyro’s line of sight shifted from you to a paparazzi that was approaching him, presumably one that was new to the job. “Are you Gyro Zeppeli? Could you tell us a bit about yourself and your horse?” the young man asked, giving him the same treatment as Johnny. His cameraman pointed the filming instrument at Gyro’s face, getting way too close.

“Actually, my name is Inigo Montoya.” Gyro grinned, his gold teeth glinting in the bright lights.

“Oh,” the young paparazzi sputtered. He checked the roster in his pocket again, shaking his head before turning his attention back to him. “Sorry. Inigo. Where are you from? Why are you confident your horse will win the race?” the young man tried again.

“I hail from a land far, far away in the south. Super cold. You’ve probably never heard of it,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I came to Britain to win the championship with my horse, Ligma,” he answered, deepening his voice to sound more important than he was.

“Ligma?” the young man asked, his brow furrowing.

“You know, Ligma. Like--”

Just then, one of the more experienced paparazzi intervened, grabbing the microphone away from Gyro before he could crack his dirty joke. The other paparazzi harshly whispered to the younger one, and they exchanged glances before giving Gyro a distasteful look and walking away. All the while, Gyro was barely containing his laughter, his stomach and chest trembling with the effort. Once they were finally out of earshot, Gyro wouldn't contain himself and erupted into laughter.

You were taken aback by the scene, but you also found it hard to contain your giggles. You waited until the pair had fully adverted their attention from you and Gyro before speaking. “So, was that why they don’t like you?” you asked, still giggling.

“Yep. I always give them bullshit answers. They don’t really care about where you’re from or who you are, you know,” Gyro explained, his tone becoming more somber. “They just want a good show. To be entertained. That’s it.”

The smile had fallen from your face at his explanation. His green eyes scanned over your face before flickering away, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Is that why you’re here? Do you care, or do you want to be entertained?” he asked, still looking away from you.

You were surprised at the boldness of his question. “Of course, I care. I want to see you guys do well--”

“Even Johnny?”

You furrowed your brow at this. His eyes met yours, his gaze accusatory as he looked you over. “What does that mean? Are you implying that I don’t care about him?” you shot back, your tone growing more defensive with every word. Gyro had always been aloof around you, but never like this. You wracked your brain trying to figure out the reason.

Gyro ignored your response. “You should get back to the stands. The race is gonna start soon, and the coaches aren’t going to be happy that you’re down here.” He fixed his hat while he spoke, the brim coming down to cast a shadow over his face.

Then it hit you as if the thought were a speeding train. Gyro... liked Johnny.

The cogs in your head were whirring a mile a minute, piecing together all of the times that he was unusually protective of Johnny. You thought back to the soft way that he looked at Johnny during riding practice, or the way Gyro ignored you after Johnny had flirted with you. You were going to argue the point, but he was right. The staff members that had initially spied you were now giving you harsh glances, some pointing now. At this point, the paparazzi had released Hot Pants and Johnny from being their hostages and were retreating to other parts of the stadium. You wished all of them good luck before making your way towards the stands, leaving them behind. Gyro’s words still rang in your ears, making your already complicated emotions about the event even more complicated.

You were still quite a bit away from the stands, but you could see Diego entering the stadium as clear as day. The swarm of paparazzi that obscured your view was a good indicator. From the looks of it, he was just arriving. It’s just like him to be fashionably late, you thought to yourself, making a sour face. Cameras began to flash again and interviewers animatedly asked him questions, trying to fit everything in before the tournament began.

“I’m going to come in first place. Just watch me,” you heard him boldly claim, quite loudly at that. This seemed to please the crowd of interviewers, because the volume of their voices increased as they wrapped up the interview. With only minutes before the jockeys had to take their places, the paparazzi finally dispersed. You were much closer now, able to see Diego clearly. His turquoise outfit was as pristine as ever, every detail carefully planned out. The letters on his equestrian helmet shined when he turned his head.

Before he was able to notice you approaching, a short, fat man hobbled out from the stands and down to the track. Diego’s big, showy smile disappeared and was replaced with a solemn look once he laid eyes on him. He froze in his spot. The man was clearly drunk, his hair unkempt and his clothes disheveled. The look of surprise on Diego’s face graduated to boiling anger, his mouth contorting into a sneer. You couldn’t quite hear what was being said, but you knew how his face looked when he was saying something aggressive. The old man responded with twice as much venom, yelling and shaking his fist at the rider. Diego shrunk under his words, but hatred still twisted his face.

Now, you were curious. You stopped just out of earshot from the scene, only close enough to hear the exchange of words.

“God damn it, I’m your father, Diego! A son does what his father tells him to!” the man slurred. Diego cringed, the alcohol on his father’s breath almost too much for him to handle.

“You’re no father of mine. Fuck off, Dario,” he spat.

This pissed off the old man, because he began to howl in rage at his son. “You’re a fucking disgrace, Diego! You’ve always been a disappointment to me and the rest of the family...It’s a damn shame that you don’t give every pound to help your dying mother in the hospital. A real damn shame,” the man--Dario--rambled, parts of his sentence nearly unintelligible from the slurring.

Though, Diego understood every word. The jockey snapped, his fist shooting out and curling into the man’s shirt. He shook the old man, his lips pulled back in a snarl, teeth bared like an animal. “Don’t you FUCKING dare say that! I send everything I have to support her, and you spend it on BOOZE! If there’s anyone here who is a disgrace, it’s you!” Diego shouted, pushing the man away before the violence could escalate any further.

Your mouth was gaping at the scene, unable to believe that the foul-mouthed drunkard was Diego’s father. He was the complete opposite of his son physically, bearing little to no resemblance to him. You couldn’t imagine his dull grey hair being the same shade as Diego’s blond locks. Though, they both had the same burning look of passion behind their eyes. Nonetheless, you continued to listen in.

“It’s no surprise that I smell booze on your breath. Like always,” Diego growled, his voice much calmer now. His blazing anger had turned cold, his words mechanical in quality.

“You’re a horrible child. A worthless waste of space. Win that money and bring it home to me, or you’ll never see your mum again. You hear me?” Dario said, waving a finger in the jockey’s face. Diego bit his lower lip, looking at the ground defeatedly before nodding his head yes. All of the fight left him, his frame deflating significantly. He understood the implications of his father’s words: The little money that Dario did use to help his mother would stop altogether. And then, she would be gone.

“Good. And after this is over, be useful and bring me a pint,” the old man said, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand before hobbling back off towards the stands.

You were completely at a loss. You blinked slowly, unable to believe the horrible sight that you witnessed. Diego was still staring at the ground, the fist that was once in his father’s shirt now clenched at his side. He was still biting his lip, hard, a small trickle of blood flowing down his chin. You felt horrible that he was clearly being abused by his father, but you were on a mission: You had to get to the bottom of why he was mistreating you, why he had ghosted you and threw you to the side like nothing. You had a sneaking suspicion that the treatment from his father was a part of the reason, but you had to know for sure. You decided to be the bigger person and put your thoughts of confrontation on pause. It could wait until after the race.

You approached him uneasily, taking light steps on the dirt like if you stepped too hard, he’d be disturbed. As you approached him, his eyes slowly rose from the ground and met your form. You were wearing a crop top and high-waisted shorts, along with matching shoes. You were beautiful, glowing, so much more confident than the first time he saw you. You proudly allowed your belly to show with your shirt, and the shorts showed off your legs and hugged the curves of your hips perfectly. It was faint, but a bit of makeup dusted your cheeks and kissed your lashes. You were the same, but different somehow. Something had changed in you along the way. If Diego weren’t devastated, he would be enamored by you. Part of him was, despite his pain.

When your gazes locked, you saw a look that you had never seen on Diego before. His eyes were those of a completely broken, desperate person. You had heard enough to know his secrets, and the both of you knew this while you stared silently at each other.

You flub, not sure what to say for a moment. “I… I had no idea,” you said, your voice small and full of hurt.

“I know.” Diego’s jaw was clenched. He didn’t want you to see him like this, so vulnerable and weak. His first instinct was to hide, to get away from you. Your empathetic gaze made feelings rise in him that he didn’t want to be feeling.

“I’m sorry that you have to deal with that…” you said, feeling stuck. “Is that the reason why you wanted to stay away? What your dad said about your mom?” you asked softly, as if you were comforting a child.

The gentle, caring look in your eyes only frustrated Diego further. He looked away, blinking hard and trying to restrain his emotion. He already made the mistake of arguing with Dario in public, which the paparazzi more than certainly saw him do. He wasn’t going to get emotional and have another scene with you, not when he had a race to win and a mother to save. Diego opted for silence, not giving a response and just looking away.

You sighed sadly before taking a step toward him, your hand outstretched. “Please. I need to know. You don’t have to tell me now, but I want to talk about this,” you tried, setting your hand on his shoulder. He promptly shrugged you off with an exasperated noise.

“I don’t want them to see,” Diego said, already turning on his heel and walking away from you. Your feet were moving before you had time to think about it, making you follow him across the dirt.

“That’s fine. But at least tell me after the race,” you implored, your tone growing more desperate. You swallowed, hard, and tried to get yourself together.

He was quiet again, worrying his lip between his teeth as he struggled to hold back all of the things he wanted to say. Diego tried to keep his eye on the ball, focusing on an image of him holding a 10,000 pound sterling check in his hand. Except, the image grew fuzzy in his mind’s eye, and he saw you instead. Your smile. Your eyes. You, choking on cigarette smoke. You, in the back of his car, blushing and looking at him like the most important person in the world.

You sped up, jogging next to his side. He walked faster, leaving you in the dust.

“Why? Why do you keep walking away from me? Every time? You always deflect and you never want to talk about anything. It’s not healthy, Diego,” you said, your voice breaking. “I’ll leave you alone forever if that’s what you want. If you want to talk about this later, just tell me. Communicate with me, please.”

This got Diego’s attention, and he stopped in his tracks.

“Diego, what’s going on? What are we?” you tried one more time before giving up for good. You were well aware that you were crossing the line, but you needed something. Your hand went to his arm, your thumb gently caressing him.

You didn’t expect the furious expression on his face when he whipped around to look at you. Surprised, you took a step back from him, watching his hands curl around nothing at his sides.

“I don’t know!” Diego yelled, ripping his sleeve from your grasp. His eyes were smoldering with anger and fear in their basest forms. He sniffled a bit at the end of his sentence.

You stopped in your tracks, frozen by disbelief. Tears were now freely flowing down Diego’s cheeks, hot and wet and dripping onto the dirt below his feet. “You saw Dario. What an absolutely disgusting, no-good, drunk fucking swine he is,” he said through gritted teeth. “What’s what I deal with. That’s what my mother deals with. He doesn’t love her, doesn’t care if she dies young. That’s why I have to win this race. I have to have that money in my pocket; failure isn’t an option. I don’t know what we are. This wasn’t supposed to happen...” he proclaimed, his tone growing more grave the more that he talked.

I wasn’t supposed to fall for you, he thought to himself, a crease settling into his brow. You were supposed to be a quick fuck. An experiment. That was all. But now look at where we are...

A soft look passed over his eyes before his expression contorted back to agitation. He angrily wiped the tears from his face and a bit of snot from his nose. When he moved his hand away, his expression was more determined than ever.

“Now get out of my way.”

Diego clasped the buckle on his helmet, straightening his posture and squaring his shoulders, before walking away from you yet again.

You stood behind him, mouth open, unable to even begin to form words. The dirt of the track whipped around you as a breeze passed through the stadium. The dust swirled around Diego as if it parted for him and only him, leading him towards victory.

Where you thought you would feel disappointment, you felt numb. You didn’t know what exactly to feel. You turned around and walked towards the stands, the scene below catching the attention of a few audience members. They looked at you curiously as you made your way towards your seat, but you paid no mind to them. Something in your gut told you that this wasn’t over. And, despite everything, you knew who you would be cheering for once the tournament began.

★・・・・・・★

The thundering of hooves on the dirt and the roar of the crowd reverberated in your ears. You watched as the riders were approaching the last lap, many of them bracing themselves for one last push of speed. Many of the jockeys who started in first place had sunk to the back, and others who had restrained themselves were rising to the occasion. Such was the case for your friends and Diego.

Gyro was currently sitting in 5th place, Hot Pants in 4th, Johnny in 2nd, and, surprisingly, Diego in 6th. You nervously watched as Diego bided his time in the back. A shadow was cast over his face from his helmet, and you and the onlookers alike struggled to read his expression. The announcer was going crazy with play-by-plays, calling out so quickly that the words lost their meaning to you. You wanted your friends to win, but you couldn’t help but cheer for Diego on the inside.

Johnny’s horse was speeding ahead of the contender in first place, the red-headed woman yelling a profanity at him and shooting him a dirty look. She maneuvered her horse to the side, trying to throw him off balance, but Johnny was quick. He swerved, avoiding the collision, and zipped past her into first place.

“Johnny Joestar has taken the lead! Can he keep this up? Do we have the winner?!” the announcer boomed, riling up the crowd. They all clapped and shouted, the sounds making your head buzz. The smell of alcohol was also heavy in the air and it didn’t help the knot that settled in your stomach. You hoped that Dario wasn't sitting nearby.

What are you doing, Diego? You thought to yourself, making a “tsk” sound under your breath.

Hot Pants surprised you next, overtaking the 3rd place racer and claiming their place. There were only a few meters left, and you began to sweat as the end of the race approached.

Suddenly, you heard a gasp from the audience. You flicked your eyes over to the back riders and saw what the audience had seen. Diego was jetting past the other racers, taking 5th, 4th, and 3rd like nothing. You found yourself scooting to the edge of your seat, your hands gripping the edge of the stands hard enough to make your palms white.

Diego was steady for a moment, riding next to Hot Pants, almost as if he was taunting her. Down on the track, he flashed her a cocky grin before snatching 2nd place away from her. Now, he was right behind Johnny, the two riders only a few feet away from each other. The announcer was hollering his head off, but silence settled over your ears. You watched them, side by side, sweat flying off of the both of them.

Johnny looked to his side, his brow furrowed, his upper lip curled in concentration. Diego’s eyes flashed as they locked gazes, a thousand words being exchanged from one intense look. Johnny pressed on, encouraging Slow Dancer to give everything that she had. Diego’s own horse still had a bit left in her, and, with an expert maneuver from her rider, Diego cut perfectly in front of Johnny, making Slow Dancer falter.

You gasped, you hands gripping the metal edge of the stands even harder. For a split second, Johnny’s horse lost her balance, stumbling, but he pulled hard on her reigns and recentered her. By then, it was too late, and Diego was several paces ahead of him, the finish line within his reach. Your heart raced as you watched him, you jumped to your feet and leaned in as close as you could, unable to look away.

“AND THERE HE GOES!” the announcer howled, the entire stadium screaming at the top of their lungs. The moment that Silver Bullet crossed the finish line happened almost in slow-motion. You could see the exact moment that her hoof touched the dirt right over the line, how the beast’s muscles ripped under her hide as she carried them both to victory. Diego was almost standing, braced so forwardly that he almost flew off the horse when they passed the finish line. You could feel the breeze ruffling your hair as he jetted past you.

And just like that, it was all over. Johnny wasn’t far behind him, and neither were Hot Pants and Gyro. Your heart was beating at a million miles a minute, and you couldn’t help but break into a huge smile and join the crowd in their cheering. You cheered until your throat grew hoarse and scratchy, until you couldn’t produce sound any longer.

Diego’s face was broken out in a toothy smile as his horse slowed. “We have our winner! Give it up for Diego Brando!” Everyone did accordingly, many whooping and hollerings taking place. Cheers still sounded off for the rest of the participants, and even though they were dejected, many were still happy to have made it in the top ten. Diego did a victory lap around the stadium, cameras going off like crazy and admirers reaching over the barrier for a chance to be close to the celebrity. He waved, a grin still dancing on his lips while he rode the high of being the winner. You could see from your seat the rise and fall of his chest as he drew in ragged breaths, trying to calm himself down from the excitement.

Slowly, you sat down, your hands stilling from the abundance of clapping. Even as you sat, you were still beaming uncontrollably. You couldn’t help but feel proud of him, to be happy for him at this moment, even though you knew that the happiness was only temporary.