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yanderenightmare · 2 days

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TW: noncon, bullying, angst, unwanted pregnancy

fem reader

You were a real ugly duckling story when you were young. Pushed around and bullied for nothing, then drooled after the moment you grew tits. Kids are so quick to change at that age. You started hating them for it early on.

You’d keep to yourself most of the time after switching schools—wanting none of the previous to follow you. Still, you’d attend a party or two when you felt like drinking for free. You’d watch the boys act like fools and the girls act like whores with eyes lazy and drunken. But you couldn’t say you weren’t one of them—in your little black dress reaching just beneath the curve of your ass, low in the dip between your tits.

None of you should have been drinking. You were all still too young for any of it, and none of you knew how to hold yourselves. But a part of your angsty heart romanticized it when you were puking up your stomach in the bathroom—both arms resting on the toilet seat with your head lying cheek-down against the soft and sticky flesh.

You still remember the smell and how you’d imagined the bacteria cling to your sweaty skin like a coat of grime. Something about it was so movie-esque, you couldn’t help but feel like the self-destructive lead in some bad teen drama.

A rude banging on the door had taken you away from the thought—a boy.

“Oi! Open up—need’a piss!” he’d yelled. Audibly drunk. Not that you judged him with what you’d poured down your throat now in the toilet bowl—just clear spirits with a few suds of spit.

You sighed, lifting your head with a soft blink. Getting up slowly, you’d flushed your vomit and pulled your dress back down before sauntering over to the locked door. You’d twisted the key, and the guy behind it had barged in before you’d even opened it up. Pushing past you, he had his dick out and aimed at the bowl with a heavy groan with you still in the room, throwing his head back in acute relief.

Suppose you’d been just as drunk as he was, looking at him while he took a piss—no, rather… you were a little preemptive because of the shock.

It was him. The reason you switched schools.

The memories leave you cold as a corpse as they flood you.

You had such a big girly crush on him back when you were kids. You were so embarrassing—following him around with pink love letters and chocolate, practicing writing a thousand Mr. and Mrs. in all your notebooks.

He was your Prince Charming. You thought he was just the coolest, smartest, most handsome boy you’d ever met, and dreaming of being his girlfriend made you kick your feet and scream into your pillow.

But then that dream kicked you in the stomach.

Turned out, he found you dumb and annoying. Actually, he found all girls dumb and annoying, but youespecially—following him around like a lost puppy, being so pathetic it made him cringe at the sight of you, staring at him always like you were expecting him to pull the sun down and gift it to you. You were a fuckingplague.

And he’d made sure to spread that sentiment.

Soon, you’d become a social piranha—no one dared stay your friend much longer. You were an outcast—a loser—laughed at when walking the hallways, and no stranger to a half-empty milk carton being thrown your way—tripped and pushed and hair-pulled—people would steal your things or throw them in the pond or even try flushing them down the toilets. The only safe place became behind the locks in the bathroom stalls, but even there, it was hard to find peace with all the things people would write on the walls about you—the same nasty things written on your locker and desk and internet…

The hopeless romantic within you died—and all your fantasies about Prince Charming did the same.

Bumping into him at that party after changing schools was only a twist of fate, as though making a cruel joke.

“What?” he’d bit out, his head lazily slanted sideways to give you a look, but then his eyebrow lifted in late recognition you’d wished hadn’t come. “Tch—why, if it isn’t little miss love hearts.”

He’d shaken off and zipped himself back up—didn’t bother flushing or washing his hands. Instead, he’d gone straight to you, and you’d stood there—still—eyes wider than they’d been for a long time. You’d have been more surprised he even remembered you, but in the oncoming of dread, you were a little too numb to feel much of anything except slightly hung up.

“Speechless, huh? Still crushin’ on me?” he’d drawled awfully with a sloppy grin, resting his weighty body with a hand on the doorframe, shadowing you as you stood on the threshold.

You hadn’t been the only one who’d grown up quickly. He was taller, bigger, stronger. In a tight black tee, you’d spotted the rich lines of his muscles. It made him look a little older than kids your age should. But you suppose it was the same with you with your push-up bras and G-strings and high-heels and smokey eyes.

“Barely recognized yah—lookin’ a little better since droppin’ out—or d’yah switch to another crummy school?” His hand had reached out, and your breath had stilled—throat tightening to a choke as he fiddled with a lock of your hair. He’d let out a laugh, entirely dismissive of the trepidation you’d felt stuck. “Guess that’s my fault huh? Since breakin’ your wittle heart~”

You’d wanted to say something snide, walk away casually once and for all. But more than that, you’d wanted to run. You wish you had. But none of the sorts happened. You’d just ended up standing there silently as if someone were capturing the look of pure anxiety in a portrait.

“Tch—since you’ve already had yer wet dreams come true, seein’ my dick—maybe you’d like to touch it too, hm?”

With a breathy hitch in your voice, you only managed to whisper out a weak, “No thanks.” Turning on your heels with wobbly knees with a single blaring thought on repeat in your head—just get out of there, just get out of there, just get out.

You wish you had, but fate had other plans for you that night.

“Oi.” His callused palm had wrapped itself around your arm and stopped you dead in your tracks. “Fuck’s that about, huh?”

Pushed up against the spine of the doorframe, you’d winced but felt too stunted to do much else. “Let go.”

“Tch—that’s not how it works.” He’d snickered again, breath soaked with beer and vodka and smoke while it wafted across your face in the damp heat of his words. “Dress like an open invitation—you can’t turn down the ones who come knockin’, slut.”

You shudder when your memories of the next events start playing. You’d suppressed it for years, but seeing his face and hearing his voice brought it all back. Standing before you, years later, on your doorstep, rubbing his hands together nervously while searching for the right words to say.

“Uhm…” He swallowed thickly. “Don’t—uhm—know if you remember me.” That’s a stupid thing to say. He scolded himself but stayed committed to it anyway. “It’s me… from middle school.”

He made himself cringe—barely able to look you in the eye where you stood, unreadable expression donning your face. He doesn’t know what compelled him to track you down again after all this time, nor what he hoped to achieve by coming here—all he knew is that in between days of endless drinking and living his best but mostly empty life, the only part of his heart that still bothered feeling something real was hung-up on his memories of you. You, who could have offered him so much more if only he’d had the balls to take it.

“I—I know this is—uhm—fucked up,” he excused himself in the same fashion a boy up for arrest would. “But I…” Swallowing thickly, he took a deep breath, hung his head, then let it go. “I did something unforgivable to you five years ago, and I’ve regretted it ever since.”

He looked up to see your features hadn’t changed.

“I’ve tried forgetting—‘cause it’s been eatin’ me up inside, but—this is fuckin’ selfish—but… I needed to let you know how sorry I—”

“Mommy! Who is it?” The boy had broken everything off. He came running with stomping steps to attack your leg, peering around it to look up at the man standing there.

“Oh! It’s just a salesman, honey,” you excused—your smile a bit too tight to be called natural as you stroked the top of the boy’s familiar hair. “Mommy will be done real soon, okay? Wait for me inside, yeah? You can watch whatever you want until I’m done.”

The boy hadn’t noticed your discomfort, too blinded by the offer.

“Really?! Score!” is all he squealed out before bolting back inside.

Old Prince Charming blinked. Once, maybe twice, maybe a dozen times rapidly. “Is that—"

“No,” you interrupted, closing the door once the man reached his hand out. Already having taken a step as though he planned on rushing after the kid, he stopped short when you placed yourself in front of the door, blocking him.

He breathed. Once, maybe twice, maybe a dozen times rapidly. “Shit—” Swallowing thickly, he combed both hands through his hair while staggering back. “It is, isn’t it?” He met the metal railing behind him with a clank. “I need to sit down—” Slipping down it until he’d dropped to the floor with a thud—still holding his head. “Fuck—”

“There’s no need for any of that,” you spat coldly. “He’s mine and wants nothing to do with you, so get lost before I call the cops.”

“That’s my son—” he objected, but he hadn’t a complete grip on the situation—voice an overwhelmed and weak excuse, something you easily stepped on and snuffed out like a spent cigarette bud.

“He’s my son.” You’d raised a strict pointer finger at his face in warning—like a sharpened knife aimed right between his wide eyes. A fierce scowl warped your face, huffing stiff breaths through a flared nose—lips in a prim line as you glowered at him in unfaltering disdain.

And his head was in such a state of turmoil that, for the first time in his life, no words could make it out on his tongue to refute it—remaining at a complete loss.

“You came here to apologize, right? Or whatever the fuck you call all that mumbling you just did,” you questioned in the gap of his silence, taking a step back while straightening yourself, looking down your nose at him—jaded with a voice just as cold—void of all emotion, as though you had none whatsoever to spare him. “Apology accepted if you go away and never show your face here again.”

And with that final sentiment, you turned your back and opened the door.

You didn’t slam it, but you might as well have.

The metal grid he sat on began eating into his flesh, and the bars behind would soon make his back ache—and still, he remained sitting there for a while. Thinking of all the ways he’d ruined your life…

As well as all the ways you were going to complete his.

BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks

JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji

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chimielie · 2 days

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cw death , discussion of violence , romeo and juliet related stuff but it’s meant to be taken lightly/jokingly bc they died but got better

reincarnation/romeo and juliet au where you’re mutual friends with suna, you don’t talk to him much, but he just gives you bad vibes. you don’t really like him.

when he cracks jokes, you roll your eyes. when someone mentions how hot he is, you wrinkle your nose. you don’t dislike him, there’s just something about him that… irks you.

then one day you’re at a friend’s house, maybe playing drinking games, maybe a little buzzed. it’s warm, and you pull your sweater over your head, looking around for a place to put it down. on your way to the couch, you stumble, and a hand lands on your waist, where your shirt is riding up, just a pinky against your bare skin.

“you okay?” suna starts, but you can barely hear him, vision suddenly swimming with visions of a totally different world. he’s there again, though, and suddenly you know what’s always been so off about him.

you can’t tell if you’re standing on the cold stone of a castle or the hardwood floor of a modern-day apartment.

“did,” you bring a hand up to rub your head, a little ache starting to form. “did you—”

“touch me,” he says, desperate, and you lay a hand on his cheek and feel the echoes of his own past life reverberating through your touch. you don’t have to ask by the time he lets you go, hand falling from where it had clasped around your wrist. he felt it too. he saw you.

you stare at each other, two people blurring into one.

“i always thought you were beautiful,” he says after a long minute. you snort.

“i never liked you,” you reply. “you left me! you died before i woke up!” it’s a strange wound, the memory of coming into the light and finding him beyond asleep beside you.

“i died for you!” he argues, laughing, and your hands are around him, pulling him close, seeking his heartbeat.

“you should have waited.” you look up at him, hoping your gaze can communicate what your sharp words fail to.

“look at us,” he presses his forehead to yours. “i did.”

#suna x reader #shorts!#i guess #suna rintarō x reader #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader

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dronebiscuitbat · 20 hours

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Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 15)

“Here you are Mr. Elliot.” Mrs. Rayn said while dropping the giggling infant in his arms, along with a bag of bottles and a short recharge cable. Uzi was at his side with a hand on his lower back, trying to steady his already fraying nerves.

Never in a million years did he ever think he'd be called Mr. Elliot…

“Please keep calling me N, Mrs. Rayn…” He laughed nervously. Tera was looking up at him inquisitively, like even she could tell he was one bad step away from a mental break.

“But it sounds so proper!”

Yeah that's kinda the point…

“Thank you for the supplies!” He heard Uzi next to him carry the rest of the conversation as it filtered out around him, he was too… everywhere to be anywhere right now, and it was taking everything in his power to not vibrate out of his shell, or scream like a lunatic because he felt like doing both.

At least her hand was still on his back, otherwise, he wasn't sure he could keep from loosing his mind if she wasn't there. He was concentrating on her and how steady her hand was, telling him wordlessly that if he didn't have it, she did.

“You tw- three. Stay safe now, try not to stress too much.”

Oh way too late for that…

“We'll try.” Uzi's voice was deadpan but N could hear the touches of nervousness in it just as well. It almost made him fell better, that Uzi was just as nervous as him if that thought didn't also terrify him. She was way more experienced at this than him, what did it mean if she was nervous?

Rayn began to walk away, back into the nursery, leaving him and Uzi alone with a child in his arms. He felt himself start to tremble. OhmyrobogodwhattheheckdidIgetmyselfintoholy-

“You Good?” Now she was in front of him, holding his arm, looking at him with such concern he would've blushed had he been anywhere close to that state of mind.

“I don't know what I'm doing…” He near whispered, his panic leaking into his voice despite him trying to keep it internal.

“It'll be okay. You… We got this.” She squeezed his arm and displayed a cheerful cat face as an emoticon on her screen. He smiled through the panic, feeling eased through her joke and her confidence.

Even if Uzi's confidence was mostly faked, and she felt her legs becoming noodles as she forced them not to shake under the pressure that was placed on her shoulders. She still tried to be stable for N, who looked way worse than she did. Which made sense considering it was him that just actually adopted a baby.

The walk back from N's apartment was… awkward to say the very least. They garnered stares and looks that ranged between fear, shock, and disgust, but honestly, it was mostly shock.

No one believing the first sight of Khan’s outcast of a daughter having a baby with a murder drone, hell they could barely believe in her having a baby with anyone.

She gulped, ignoring the stares and walking just a little faster. She didn't care what people thought of her, no. She didn't. She didn't.

When they reached his apartment she look a breath before opening it, N right behind her, as they both breached the entrance, the door closed behind them and they looked at each other, sweat appeared in both of their visors.

“Okay. Uh… were here.” Uzi tried to remain confident, she had taken care of many babies when she was younger, this was going to be no different. Although this one had her name attached to it, the adoption certificate clearly read; Tera Elliot-Doorman. A fact she didn't want to show N just yet, or anyone for that matter.

She'd signed the paperwork impulsively, and while N was still Technically the one who adopted her, she was now permanently tied to Tera as well. And it was both fueling butterflies and straining her already strained nerves.

“Yeah. We're… here.” There was a moment of silence that passed between the two as they observed the looks on each other's faces.

And then, blessedly, they both laughed, the tension breaking.

Tera began to giggle along with them, rolling a bit in N's arms out of excitement. They both looked down at her, smiling before Uzi physically shook off her nerves

No matter how scared. They had to deal with it.

“Come on, let's sit down. I have a lot to go over.” She waved him over to the couch like he wouldn't just follow her instinctually. The couch was squishy, slightly absorbing her frame, even more so his when he joined her.

“First, calm down. Panic isn't going to do anything to help you.”

“How do I calm down? I-I don't know how to do anything! And what if I hurt her?!” His voice rose an octave as he tried to explain all the ways he was freaking put right now, but Uzi put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

“You would never hurt her N, just like you'd never hurt me. And I'm here to walk you through it, we've been feeding her and playing with her for weeks, it's not that different.”

“Right. Okay…” He took a few deep breaths, feeling her hand on his shoulder, he tried to quiet the dozens of paniked voices in his head, he closed his eyes focusing on the pressure on his shoulder.

“En!” Tera squealed up at him, interrupting him but even still he felt his panic waning, Tera was here, safe, and happy in his arms. As of yet, he hadn't screwed up.

“Even she's telling you to chill dude.” Uzi laughed softly, and that did the trick of calming him the rest of the way down. They were both here, and safe, and right now everything was blessedly normal and not gross and freaky.

“I'm chilling! I'm chilling!” He laughed, feeling the artificial tightness in his shoulders loosen slightly.

He looked over at his best freind, who was still laughing lightly at his comment, she was so so pretty. He could feel his core lighting up in butterflies and extra warmth come to his face.

He wanted to kiss her…

He jumped at that thought before ripping his head away to stop looking at her, that was definitely new, it just had awful timing as right now she was trying to teach him. Bad N! Pay Attention!

“Good. Now you already know how to feed her, but I'm going to go over it again anyway.”

“All you do is open this panel on your side, she pointed to herself and the side in question, and there's a little charge port and a place you can siphon oil from, you've seen me do it a bunch now.”

He had, and it always seemed to sting a little bit, as she winced every time, was it supposed to hurt like that? That would be kinda asshole design if it was.

“Charge port?” Was his first question he actually asked one that was quickly answered by Uzi, who seemed to be much more confident now that she had a task; teaching him.

“Yeah, until you get a charge crib, she'll be getting all her charge from you along with her oil. Speaking of.”

She pulled out a very large container of oil from her bag, and set it on the otherwise empty coffee table.

“I did the math, with how fast you go through oil, this should last you exactly a week while you're giving her some of yours.” She gestured to it, looking a little proud of herself, he smiled back, Uzi was always prepared for anything. And the container looked hand welded, perfect for him to drink out of whenever he needed.

It was so sweet, that she'd thought of him this way.

“Sweet! At least I don't have to worry about that. Thank you Zi.” If Tera wasn't currently trying to roll out of his arms and out onto the floor he would of hugged her, instead he held Tera closer to his chest so she wouldn't roll away.

“You're welcome. Now, let's just make sure you've got the same hardware. Open up your side panel.” She pointed to his side lazily, while looking at Tera who was determined to get out of his grip, squirming as much as a being without limbs could.

He suddenly felt his next breath leave him. Yeah… that was going to be somewhat of a problem.

“Uh…” His words were hesitant, like he speaking to J and wanted to avoid saying anything that would set her off.

“What?”

“I don't have one.” He finished, head looking to the side but eyes trained on her. Tera finally succeeded in breaking out of his grip, and was now rolling over and into Uzi's lap, where she stayed after Uzi picked her up and into her arms.

She blinked at him, confusion swirling in her eyelights before words came out of her mouth again, like she had been hit with a brick.

“Everyone has one.” She began, less confused and more incredulous, he was joking right? He was based on a worker drone model, she'd expected many she'd need to modify the charger for him, make it compatible for whatever size his was, or do the same for the bottle. She didn't expect for him to just… not have anything.

“I don't.”

More silence, before Uzi leaned back so far into the couch it looked like it was eating her. Tera laughed up at her, Uzi sighed, looking down at her.

“Because why would a disassembly drone ever need to charge a baby….” She sounded endlessly dissapointed, like she was personally offended by whoever re-designed him and their choices.

N felt the nerves come back in full force. He couldn't feed or even charge Tera by himself! His stupid murder biology (or engineering) didn't even give him the ability to. How was this going to work?

“Okay. It's fine, I can continue to feed her.” Uzi began again, her eyes scrunched up in thought and her finger hovering over Tera's visor, making the baby follow it with her eyes before she squealed when it made contact with her squishy silcone.

“Once you get a charge crib that won't be a problem either, you can just plug her in there.” N nodded, thankful once again that Uzi was able to think so quickly despite how nervous they both were.

“In the meantime… She'll have to charge off me.” She said slowly, a blush aggressively attacking her face, she turned to him after a moment, managing to push it away, leaving only the smallest blush left. But it was still something he noticed.

“I guess I'm staying here for awhile. Heh.”

He looked away to settle the score with his own misbehaving visor, both incredibly happy to be able to spend more time with her and incredibly nervous all at the same time.

#murder drones #biscuitbites #nuzi #uzi doorman #serial designation n #n and uzi #tera doorman #N is designed only for murder #it becomes a slight problem #Uzi is at her best when she has a task #because you know “worker drone.”#N disassociates

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whump-tr0pes · 2 days

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Honor Bound 6 - 30

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Masterlist

Contents: attempted murder, strangulation, sort of generous use of the word 'bitch', past death, pretty ungenerous thoughts about the death of a partner on Vera's part, Gray lore drop, past abuse of a minor, attempted restorative justice

Vera was across the room with her hand planted in the center of Rosa’s chest before anyone else could move. She shoved Rosa hard enough that her back slammed against the wall. Rosa’s eyes went wide, the smirk erased in a moment of shock and fear. Vera couldn’t even find the space within herself to enjoy it. There was no room for anything but cold fury that enveloped her like a second skin. She cursed herself for leaving her gun and knife behind. In the same moment, her hands curled around Rosa’s throat and pressed down, hard. Rosa’s eyes went wider. Her fingers dug at Vera’s hands.

“—no!” Kali’s admonition reached Vera through the ringing in her ears. Kali’s small hands curled around Vera’s wrists and pulled. Still, despite her wiry strength, she couldn’t make Vera’s hands budge. Vera’s jaw clenched. She leaned harder on Rosa’s throat. Her mind felt as coldly clear as when she had ripped her teeth through Joseph Stormbeck’s throat, and fired a bullet into Colleen Stormbeck’s forehead. She stared into Rosa’s reddening, bulging eyes without any mercy whatsoever.

You should never have hurt Isaac, she thought viciously.

“Vera, stop,” Kali barked. Vera felt rather than saw Kali’s gaze flick from her to Gray and back. Gray was silent where they stood behind Vera.

“You have about ten seconds to give me a good reason to stop before she passes out,” Vera said flatly. “And maybe another twenty after that before she’s dead.” She felt Rosa’s throat spasm under the relentless pressure of her palm.

“We don’t let anyone stay who harasses, intimidates, or—” Kali yanked at Vera’s arms again. “—goddammit, kills someone else here!”

“That’s fine,” Vera murmured, her lips barely moving. “I haven’t really unpacked yet.”

Rosa’s eyes rolled into the back of her head.

Kali let out a cry of frustration. She looked behind Vera. “Gray,” she gasped. “Please.”

Gray let out a huff of breath. Then, slowly, they said, “Tori won’t be happy if you make her leave, Vera.”

Vera stood perfectly still, the only sounds in the room being the squeaks coming from Rosa’s collapsing throat, and the weak shuffles of her boots against the floor. Vera’s hands spasmed. Then, despite the furious ache in her chest, she loosened her hands and let Rosa go.

Rosa crumpled where she was released, coughing and massaging her bruised throat. Vera spat indelicately and took one step back. She fixed Kali with a loathsome glare.

“Fine,” she said, her lip curling. “You bought that bitch twenty more seconds.”

Kali wasn’t looking at Vera, though. She was staring, wide-eyed, at Rosa. She trembled where she stood, hands at her sides and open as if in supplication. She wet her lips and whispered, “Rosa. What did you do to these people?”

“N-nothing,” Rosa croaked. Her voice itself sounded bruised. “I just—”

Vera stepped forward to kick Rosa in the face with a heavy boot. Gray pulled her back this time, holding her firmly by their side. Vera glared at them. They weren’t looking at her, though; they were looking at Kali.

“This is the second time someone in their group has met you and… well, tried to kill you straight off,” Kali said softly. “I don’t condone the behavior, but… Rosa, Jesus Christ, you did something to Isaac Moore, didn’t you?”

Rosa pushed herself onto her hands and knees. “I did something to him?” she snarled, raising her head to fix Kali with a hateful glare. Vera could see bruises in the shape of her handprints already forming. Her stomach roiled.

“You’re shitting me, right?” Rosa bit out. “You’re fucking shitting me. This has to be a joke. He killed my fucking partner, Kali, he killed Jordan. He—” She flinched back when Vera lunged forward, held back only by Gray’s iron grip on her upper arm.

“Tell her the truth,” Vera hissed through clenched teeth.

Rosa trembled as he glanced between Kali and Vera. “Kali, I’m not having this conversation in front of this fucking—”

“TELL. HER. THE. FUCKING. TRUTH,” Vera bellowed. The tiny corner of the building shook with her rage. Her eyes blazed as she stared down at the woman cowering at her feet, and she tried once again to throw off the hand that held her back from ending Rosa once and for all.

Kali drew in a deep breath, slowly pushed it out. Then, she stepped between Vera and Rosa. Vera’s rage flared and she tensed, ready to shove this newcomer out of the way so she could handle the monster cowering behind her—

Her fury was tempered for the briefest moment by the unflagging kindness in Kali’s eyes. Even as Vera’s muscles braced to attack, even as her face contorted in an expression of rage, Kali looked at her patiently, unafraid, her posture open, her hands down by her sides. Vera’s jaw clenched harder.

“She’s not being fucking honest with you,” Vera said stiffly.

“Yeah, I’m getting that,” Kali said.

Vera blinked.

Rosa scoffed. “You’re fucking kidding me,” she mumbled to herself, every word dripping venom. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. He killed my fucking partner and—”

“Who fired the shot?” Gray ground out. Vera felt her fists relax, felt her shoulders begin to drop from where they hovered around her ears.

Rosa raised her gaze to Gray for the first time since Vera had choked her. “I feel like you should know that you don’t have to be the one to fire the shot in order to be responsi—”

“A syndicate guard fired the shot that killed your partner,” Gray said, a steely calm finding its way into their voice. “And who sent your team into that compound?”

“Isaac was supposed to watch our backs on that mission,” Rosa snarled. “It’s not my fault he failed, it’s not my fault he’s a fucking failure of a human being who—”

“I’ll fucking kill you—” Vera growled.

“Who is the one who organized that mission?” Gray continued tightly, their lips thin. “Who is the one who failed to adequately plan for the guard rotations? Who is the one who purported to lead your team and therefore held the responsibility for such things?”

“You know what? Fuck you,” Rosa snapped. She pushed herself fully to her feet and wobbled when she got there. “I don’t have to fucking listen to this. My partner died because of someone on your crew and now I—”

“Who is the one who went rogue on that mission in the first place?” Gray said, their voice growing in volume but not wavering once. “Who is the one who decided that collaboration wasn’t in the spirit of whatever the fuck you were doing in your little personality cult, and decided that instead of going forward with twinning the radio taps placed on the Defense Corps antennae, like what was supposed to happen, you were just going to blow it up instead?”

Vera paled and glanced at Gray. Old rage and resentment hung on their face like a shadow as they glared at Rosa. She fell back a step, even as Gray stood firm and unmoving.

“Who is the one who ended up causing dozens of deaths with that little stunt?” Gray breathed, hands in fists at their sides. “Who is the one who invited syndicate retaliation against rebel groups that weren’t even involved with that plan? Who is the one who set our cause back months, because we had to scramble to find another way to track their radio signals without that tower? Go ahead and answer. I’ll wait.”

Rosa opened her mouth. Tears of rage shone in her eyes. “I don’t have to fucking listen to this,” she hissed.

“Of course you don’t,” Gray snorted. “Of course you don’t want to listen. You’ve been telling yourself for the past seven goddamn years that your every little problem is Isaac’s fault because it’s easier to tell yourself that than admit to yourself that—” They took a forceful step forward, brushing past Kali as she raised a half-hearted protest. “—you’re the one who fucked up a mission, misjudged a syndicate guard’s rotation schedule, sabotaged the entire rebellion’s cause, and got your partner killed.” Gray’s eyes narrowed to hateful slits. “Because it’s easier to blame someone you had been abusing and conditioning since the age of fif-fucking-teen.”

“Fuck you,” Rosa growled. She whirled and stalked out the door, taking special care to slam it as she went.

For a long moment, the sound was the three of them breathing. Vera could hear her pulse pounding in her ears. She turned to look at Gray, who stared at the door as if Colleen Stormbeck herself had just walked out of it. She wet her lips to speak.

Kali beat her to it. “Gray,” she croaked. “I had no idea.”

“I know,” Gray said. “I was going to talk to you about it soon. Just not… today. I was hoping for more time to think about what I was going to say.”

“She…” Kali took a deep breath. “While I understand your frustration, we can’t hold a botched mission against her. I’m sorry that it affected your—”

“I don’t hold the mission against her,” Gray said coldly. “The cause attracts all types, even the stupid. We can’t all have a knack for considering how our actions affect others.” Their lip curled with contempt.

Kali tilted her head. “Not sure if I would have put it that way, but yes. We all make mistakes. Her treatment of Isaac Moore, on the other hand…”

“I’ll work on Isaac,” Gray said flatly. “I’m working on it. Forgive me. I know he’s… trigger happy. But his partner was almost just killed by Daniel Schiester and now he’s dealing with—”

“Gray,” Kali said gently, with that same unflagging kindness. “I understand. What I’m trying to say is that… her treatment of him is unacceptable.”

Vera’s breath caught. Her gaze flicked from Kali to Gray and back.

Gray betrayed no movement as they stared down at Kali. They wet their lips. “Define… unacceptable,” they said delicately.

Kali wiped her hands on her jeans. “I mean, clearly there’s some abuse there. Clearly she mistreated him. And, given how she’s reacted whenever she’s seen your crew… no accountability, and calling the Uriah kid a, a pet…” Kali threw a look of disgust at the door. “I’ve never seen her use language like that. But the way it just rolled of her tongue…”

“I can absolutely fucking guarantee that’s how she talks when she’s not here,” Vera sneered.

Kali heaved a sigh. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to let our minds go too far down the road to speculation. But…” She braced her hands on her hips and stared at the ground as if something profound was written there. “I… I’m not going to say that we should just let bygones by bygones. Obviously she deeply hurt one of yours. And that’s not something that just goes away.”

“She had him trained, Kali,” Gray said, their voice low and intense. “She took him off the street at the age of fifteen and turned him into a bodyguard for them. His life depended on keeping them safe, and keeping her happy. That’s how you treat a goddamn plaything. And… I’m telling you, it wasn’t his fucking fault that her partner died.”

“I know,” Kali said with a distracted wave of her hand. “I know.”

“Then—”

“Then what do we fucking do about it?” Vera cut in. “No offense, I’m sure this place is great, but I’m not going to fucking stay here if she lives here, too. And I’m not going to ask Isaac to, either.”

Kali’s eyebrows pulled together. “What? No… Rosa doesn’t live here.”

Vera froze. Gray blinked.

“Sorry… what?” Vera croaked through dry lips.

“No,” Kali said. She glanced at Gray. “Rosa doesn’t live here. She was just passing through. She does that from time to time, gets her mail here. What I was going to say was, maybe I should have a talk with her about letting us know when she’s coming through so people here can, ah, prepare.” She gestured at Rosa’s empty mail bin. “Maybe collect her mail in another town.”

Vera found herself leaning toward Gray. She glanced up at them and met their eyes for a long moment. They returned her gaze with an unfathomable expression.

Softly, they cleared their throat. “We…. don’t want to make any kind of imposition,” they said, forming each word carefully. “We’re very well aware that we just arrived, and Laporte has been running for a long time before we got here.”

Vera bit her tongue against the flood of protests that threatened: fuck that, Gray, Rosa doesn’t deserve to be breathing my fucking air let alone living in the town I’ve just settled in. She can find somewhere else. I’ll run her out of town myself.

It’s not like she has a life to move with her, she’s made that perfectly fucking clear. I guess that’s Isaac’s fault, too. Couldn’t possibly be her personality that’s the reason she’s still single.

Guilt rushed in behind the venomous thoughts, and behind that another wave of hatred followed.

Fuck that bitch and everything she’s ever done. I don’t give a fuck what happens to her. She could defeat the syndicates for good and I’d still want her gone.

She shuddered against the rage inside her and forced herself to listen as Kali opened her mouth to speak.

“Laporte is built on the notion that people can make mistakes and still be good people,” Kali said carefully. “But it’s also built on the fact that everyone deserves to be safe. And Rosa… doesn’t seem interested in looking at her mistakes. Or letting Isaac feel safe.”

“I’m not super interested in letting her feel safe either.” The words slipped out before Vera could stop them. Gray’s hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed.

Kali chewed her lip and met Vera’s gaze. “We don’t condone violence here,” she said patiently.

“If you let her stay, you condone more than just violence,” Vera seethed. The back of her neck prickled with sweat, and she fought the urge to throw Gray’s hand off her shoulder. “You have no idea how much she fucking broke Isaac.” She was horrified to feel tears stinging her eyes as she glared down at Kali.

Vera squirmed under Kali’s gaze as Kali looked up at her, gaze soft, contemplative, composed. “How about this,” Kali said. Vera let out a breath when Kali dropped her gaze and looked at Gray. “I’d like to try and mediate this, if possible. It’s obvious a lot of damage has been done. And my top priority is making you feel safe.” She leaned in. “You,” she said softly. “Because you live here. This is your home now, and I don’t want you feeling unsafe. Especially after… everything you’ve been through. As a group.”

“Part of what we’ve been through is her,” Vera snapped.

“That would be very gracious of you,” Gray said raggedly. They squeezed Vera’s shoulder again, then let go entirely. “If it’s alright, though, I’d like to bring that suggestion to Isaac and see if that’s something he thinks he could… handle, right now.”

Kali let out a heavy breath. “Of course,” she said, her shoulders relaxing. “I understand. It’s been a stressful few days. Please let me know when you’re ready, and we can perhaps set up a time to meet? Somewhere neutral, where we can talk things out.”

“Sure.” Gray nodded. The movement was jerky and stiff. “Thank you, Kali.”

“Any time,” she said. She reached out and squeezed one of Gray’s hands in both of hers. “Any time.” A tired smile pulled at the edges of her mouth. She turned to Vera and seemed like she was about to say something, then thought better of it.

“I’ll… head home and tell him your suggestion, then,” Gray said, moving toward the door. Vera found herself following them, suddenly exhausted.

“Of course,” Kali said. “Take care, both of you.” The crow’s feet at the edges of her eyes deepened as she looked at them both. “And we’ll make this work.”

Even as bitterness curdled in Vera’s throat, the kindness in Kali’s eyes seemed as real as the floor under her feet, or the air she passed through on her way to the door. Even as her anger drove her toward the door so she could go hunt Rosa down and beat her to death in the street like she fucking deserved, Vera somehow knew that Kali meant every word she said.

She had never known that she could trust someone so implicitly before. Except for Gray. She had felt this before, when she first met Gray.

She swallowed hard and let her feet carry her to the door. “Yeah,” she said roughly. “Okay.”

Gray pushed the door open, and she followed them out.

@womping-grounds , @free-2bmee , @quirkykayleetam , @walkingchemicalfire , @inpainandsuffering , @redwingedwhump , @burtlederp , @castielamigos-whump-side-blog , @whatwhumpcomments , @whumpywhumper , @stxck-fxck , @whumps-the-word , @justplainwhump , @finder-of-rings , @inky-whump , @orchidscript , @inkyinsanity , @this-mightaswell-happen , @newandfiguringitout , @whumpkitty , @pretty-face-breaker , @pebbledriscoll , @im-just-here-for-the-whump , @endless-whump , @grizzlie70 , @oops-its-whump , @kixngiggles, @1phoenixfeather , @butwhatifyouwrite , @carnagecardinal , @whumpifi , @squishablesunbeam

#honor bound 6 #hurt/comfort #angst #attempted murder #strangulation #gendered slurs #past death #lore drop #past child abuse #attempted restorative justice

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lovelywritinglady · 2 days

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Strangers (Part.2)

Reiner Braun xfem!reader

Three years later and you finally meet him again. But this time as strangers. Will you reconcile?

Angst, mentions of trauma and death. Reiner has low self worth. Talk of suicide, blood, and violence. Fluff, happy ending…

Reiner’s Pov

It’s been three years to the day since the day I lost her. Every moment I’ve spent has been filled with memories of her. Her scent, touch, and voice fill me with sadness and regret. I need to see her, but she’s so far from me now. The future is so unpredictable now and war has been upon Marley for some time. I wonder what’s she’s doing. What she looks like now and how beautiful she’s gotten.

I stared at the sea, the very one that separates us. Wishing she were here to see what I see. Wishing I were holding her hand here, making her laugh, telling her jokes. But I’m not, and she’s not here. I’m scared I’ll never be able to see her again or hear her sweet voice calling my name.

“Damn it all.” I sighed breathing in the salty sea air. I was trying not to think of her anymore as I could feel tears beginning creep.

I began walking along the docs admiring the markets and people around me. I had no where in particular to go as it was my day off, which was rare. There were so many people out today and I found myself accidentally bumping into a few. My head was fuzzy as I tried to push my emotions back once more. I wasn’t looking where I was going this time and bumped into someone and made them fall to the ground. My thoughts came back to me and I focused on the person I accidentally shoved.

“I’m so sorry are you okay.” I said frantically not looking at their face still. I grabbed their hand as I pulled them up. I locked eyes with them and suddenly the whole world stopped. The very air from my lungs had left me and the tears that I was trying so desperately to hold back were starting to fall. As the very person I have needed, loved, and desired was right in front of me and I had just bumped into her.

“Y/n…”

Your pov

One hour earlier…

We finally docked onto Marley dressed as ordinary people because if even one person caught wind that there were enemies on this island, then all hell would break loose. Truthfully, the only reason we were here was to see the other side of the sea. For me, I came to see him. I needed to, my whole body craved it. I hate him, at least I think I do. I love him, but I know that I shouldn’t. Or should I?

Once we left the boat, we were each given time to explore. Levi instructed us to all meet by the woods by sundown as that’s where we’d be staying. He also suggested to go in pairs, but I was on a mission, one more important than anything else. I needed answers and I needed them from him. One hour later I somehow made it to a market filled with people and things I’d never seen before.

“Damn it all.” I sighed walking through a large crowd.

Despite my mission, I was simply awestruck by these people. Many of different faces than I had seen on my island. They were beautiful and it felt nice seeing so many happy people together. I thought about him walking through these very streets. Had he come here often? Was he even interested in markets? What was he doing now? All of those thought plagued my mine and made me feel hazy. Something shiny caught my eye and I turned to look at it from a distance. However, much to my bad luck, I wasn’t paying attention and got thrown off my feet by what felt like a ox.

“Ouch.” I whispered feeling the wind leaving my lungs slightly.

“I’m so sorry are you okay?” The rather familiar voice spoke out in concern.

And just as I was about to respond the figure grabbed my hand and began pulling me to my feet. Once I was balanced, I looked up. Shock waves shot through my body as the very persons I had sought out was right in front of me. The person I loved more than anything was right in front of me more handsome than he was when I lost him…

“Reiner?”

Reiner pov

“Y/n.” I whispered. “Are you real?” I asked not truly believing the breathtaking sight in front of me.

“I hope so.” She responded giving me a smile.

“Hi.” I said awkwardly

“Hi.” She whispered

“How… how are you?” I asked her after a few moments of simply staring at the woman I loved.

“Relieved.” She replied as a year left her eye.

“Me too.” I admitted. “Y/n, you’re so beautiful.” I whispered breathlessly losing myself in her magical eyes.

“Thank you.” She whimpered as more tears left her.

“Here, please.” I told her as I reached into my coat pocket, taking out a clean handkerchief and handing it to her. As I did, our hands brushed slightly making me let go of a breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding.

“Oh thank you.” She said quickly as she wiped her tears.

“Wanna go somewhere more private?” I asked her hoping she’d say yes.

“Yeah, as long as you don’t try anything mister.” Y/n joked chuckling a bit as I laughed too.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” I joked back.

“I hope so.” She spoke in a hushed whisper and I could tell she meant to say that to herself so I didn’t respond back.

“I have a good spot on the beach that should be pretty private.” I told her.

“Do you take all of your girls there?” She joked nudging my shoulder slightly. I missed this. I missed her. I just hope that I can find the perfect words to say to her.

“Nah, just you.” I replied seriously looking at her for a moment as we walked side my side to the beach.

“Good.” She smiled

After a few moments of walking and small talk, we made it to my spot. I helped her down to this small cave that most locals didn’t bother going to as it wasn’t as exciting as the rest of Marley. It was a peaceful little cave that was about 6 feet wide and 10 feet long. At the very end of it, you could see the water rising and falling. The sounds of the waves crashing echoed through the spot making a private conversation possible.

“It’s beautiful here. Good spot there Reiner.” She complimented looking around the sea cave. “As beautiful as it is, I need to speak to you about not so pretty things. But I think you know that.” She told me seriously looking straight into my eyes.

“I agree. What do you want to speak about. I promise to tell you anything you’d like to know.” I reassured her.

“Who are you?” She asked simply.

No one’s pov

“My name is Reiner Braun. I’m a warrior of Marley and I’m the holder of the armored titan.” Reiner replied seriously as he stood to the wall of the cave.

“Is see. Who else are you?” You questioned him trying to assess him.

Reiner stilled for a moment trying to decipher the right words to say and what you meant in that very moment.

‘Who am I?’ Reiner thought to himself

The two of you sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, but was really just a few minutes. Reiner had forced himself into an internal conflict with himself at your question. He hasn’t really given who he really was much thought for a long time. He thought he knew, he thought that after the battle at Wall Maria, that he knew who he was. However, with you standing right in front of him after so many years apart, he began questioning everything once again. He took a deep breath letting the salty sea air fill his lungs. He then looked into your eyes giving you a pained, but loving look as the words he needed finally came to him.

“Y/n… I’m not just Reiner Braun, Warrior of Marley. I’m also…” Reiner paused for a moment. “I’m also a man so desperately and completely still and utterly in love with the woman who stands in front of me. And with everything that I have and everything that I am. I’m so sorry for everything that I put you through on your island. For every death, every shitty memory you have because of me, for all of the people I’ve hurt. All I want is to die because of it I know I deserve to suffer for all f the shit I pot you and everyone else through. But I’m not sorry for falling in love with you. For wanting to be with you and for all of the years that I’ve spent missing you.” Reiner admitted as he began sobbing at all of the memories that he had.

“Reiner…” you sighed fresh tears beginning to spill. You couldn’t think of what to say as the confession that you wanted to hear but weren’t sure you are going to receive was just announced by him.

All you could do in that very moment was warp yourself around him. All you could think was to hold him. Your anger was overlooked my your intense love for this man, for Reiner Braun. You held him so tightly against you not wanting to let him slip away once again. You felt him stiffen slightly but hold you just as tightly. You felt him nuzzle into your hair.

“Oh Y/n, baby, I’m so sorry. I love you.” He spoke desperately feeling free that he was able to tell you the words he’s been waiting years to finally say once more.

“I missed you.” You admitted feeling anxious about saying it back but knowing you needed to. You turned your head up looking into his honey colored eyes and finally spoke the words that you were needing to say. “I love you too. I never stopped.” You told him still holding onto his muscular body.

“Good.” He whispered giving your forehead a affectionate kiss.

“You really hurt me though Reiner and despite the years apart, I’m still hurt.” You said feeling the pain you had felt for the last three years come back however a little less this time.

“I know, and I understand if it will take you time. Just know that I’ll wait as long as you want because you’re worth everything y/n.” Reiner says holding you against him once more.

“Thank you, I think I might have to go soon. But please let me stay here for a little while longer.” You pleated.

“Darling, you can stay here until time itself comes to an end.” Reiner spoke seriously

“Good, because I never want this feeling to end. And I promise you will see me again.” You said kissing his chest.

“I’m looking forward to it, Y/n…”

Thank you so much for reading💜This is the last part of this. Although I might and a prequel to this short series about how these two met and how they feel in love.

@dressycobra7

Please click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

Please feel free to like, comment,follow, request, and reblog.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

#reiner braun #reiner x reader #aot reiner #attack on titan reiner #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x y/n #reiner braun x you #reiner x you #reiner x y/n #reiner angst #reiner aot #reiner braun angst #angst #fluff #aot angst #aot fanfiction #aot #aot x reader

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omgthisisnotmyrealaccount · 2 years

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after two years off its nice to see the racists return to do their moral hand wringing about the violence and degeneracy of notting hill carnival

meanwhile no one says shit about leeds carnival (which is smaller yes) because its manage to avoid becoming part of this stupid culture war that happens every year

#and even beyond the 'we need to cancel carnival bc of all the horrific violence and police arrests' ppl #the ones who make snide comments at videos from carnival annoy me #like quote tweeting videos of ppl wining at carnival and saying its weird or gross #like is it kinda weird to dry hump ppl you don't know in broad daylight out in the street?#yeah kinda but like carnival is kinda weird and thats what makes it fun #its not for you #but at leeds there was this group of white ppl hanging out at the back of the park watching #and they were taking the piss out of the way ppl dance and shit like that #and like it was just so fucking gross #like they were just staring at people and joking around and it felt like they were at the zoo #other than that i had a great time tho #food was elite #i couldn't be arsed to wait in a long ass queue at the stalls on the park so went out onto the street #got pulled into this womans kitchen and got food from there which was nice

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sukunasteeth · 3 months

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Sukuna Dyes His Hair

You were just teasing him.

"Pink like a petite little rose."

"Shut it."

They were just play-fighting words. Part of an attempt to poke the bear that never seemed to bite at you.

"Pink like a sweet strawberry."

"Strawberries are red."

Sukuna had had you in his lap, lazy with a long day of work weighing on his bones. He watched you dote on him with a tired smile, too exhausted to mind your fingers lovingly brushing at tufts of his hair. Usually he'd swat at a touch as careful as the one you were giving him, but there were moments, like this one, where he seemed to soak up your tenderness.

"Pink like a baby kitten's nose." You cooed.

"Jesus." He groaned, rolling his eyes.

Maybe it was the ending boop to his own nose that made him finally snatch you up and tackle you to the mattress.

Maybe that's why one day later, you're staring at him standing outside of a restaurant, leaning against his motorcycle with stark black hair.

He's grinning at you, knowing that he's won the little game as he always does, with overkill.

It was a promised date night, one you had been planning for a few weeks now. Sukuna never had the same days off that you did, but the stars happened to align for you to go out to dinner together and you leapt at his invitation.

After he spots you from across the parking lot, Sukuna stubs his cigarette beneath his boot and starts over to you. You can tell in the way his eyes devilishly glimmer that he's excited to see your expression.

You're in too much shock not to give him exactly what he wants.

"Hi~" He purrs when he nears you, reaching a hand out for one of your own. You offer it subconsciously, moving automatically since your brain seemed to be sputtering. His rings are cold against your fingers, but even their icy bite is not enough to stir you back to the present. He tugs you into his embrace, looping an arm around your lower waist and pressing you into him. He’s warm despite the chill on his fingertips. When he's got you secured to him, he tilts his head at you, waiting for your response.

"Hi." You whisper, blinking up at him.

You know he thinks you're going to hate it. You know he thinks you're going to give him a pout- tell him how heartbroken you are to see his natural hair go. That was undoubtedly the punchline of his stupid joke. You've told him numerous times how much you loved his hair and every part of him that made him Sukuna... So why is your mouth suddenly watering?

“What d'ya think?” He runs his fingers through it, showing it off to you as if your eyes aren’t already glued to the newly darkened locks.

It suits him just as well as his natural hair color does, but the black brings out the deep, rich color of his eyes and makes prominent the tattoos framing his face. People always tell you that Sukuna’s stare intimidated them, and you never felt it yourself until then.

You swallow past your heartbeat, which you can suddenly feel in your throat. Sukuna notices, and his mischievous grin turns wolfish.

"Oh, you like it. Don't you?" He murmurs. Reaching up, he presses your slightly agape mouth closed so that he can place a chaste kiss to your shell-shocked lips. The smell of tobacco and expensive cologne has you in an even more intoxicated daze, rendering you boneless in his hold. His next words are a heated whisper, for your ears only.

"I usually only manage to take the words out of your mouth when you're strapped to my bed. This gotcha that good, little doe?"

#jjk #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #little oneshot to tuck you in #shoud I do part two? hmmm #black-haired sukuna #does things to me #im at his beck and call #on my knees #maybe that's for part two lol #my writing

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sttoru · 9 months

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“this is one small ass elevator.”

“i personally think it’s pretty big.”

you slap the back of satoru’s head as he makes that comment. you could sense the perversion behind it; that little grin the sorcerer had as if he made the joke of the century only tended to confirm your suspicions.

you repeatedly press the button which closes the elevator doors. you don’t need anyone else with you in this cramped space—it’d only feel more suffocating.

“just a minute, miss!” . . . there goes your peace. a guy places his foot between the closing doors and they open up for him, giving him the chance to ride down with both of you.

it didn’t stop there— more and more people rushed towards the elevator as if it was the only one available. satoru moves over to you the moment he notices how all people started to press together like a pack of sardines. everyone was trying their best to fit in before the doors close and it was getting hard to breathe properly with so many bodies bumping into you.

“baby, c’mere.” satoru smoothly excuses his way through the crowd and stands before you, pulling you to the nearest corner in hopes of giving you some space to breathe.

your back was against the elevator wall and you were facing your lover who towered over you, his feet spread apart a bit to keep himself steady whilst people pushed and pulled in this tight space.

one of satoru’s hands was placed against the wall near your head, the other on your waist to stabilise your body, “you okay?”

“yeah, thanks.” you mumble quietly, yet loud enough to be heard over the chatter in the elevator. you felt much more at ease now that satoru was the only one being so close to you, instead of having strangers press up against you from all sides.

the elevator doors finally close and it rumbles a bit before descending. satoru’s tall figure loomed over you from up close and somehow made him look even taller than he already was. you tilt your head up and were met by two bright blue eyes staring right back at you from behind his sunglasses:

“hey there, pretty.” he giggles, giving you a small wink whilst enduring the unintentional pushes of others against his back. he’ll do anything to make sure you’re comfortable—you’re his priority in any given situation.

you can’t help but smile at your boyfriend’s remark. your chest was pressed underneath his, his warm breath fanning the little hairs on top of your head, hand clutching gently onto your jacket near your waist—all of it was soothing. even when the rest of the elevator was suffocating.

“wanna kiss you.”

your head instantly snaps towards satoru and your face turns hot at this sudden confession. there were so many people in this small place and therefore could easily spot anything you do. it’d be extremely embarrassing if they see you making out with your lover.

you’re fine with PDA, but not to this extent—

“just a quick kiss. pleaaaase?” satoru pouts, being so desperate that he pushes his glasses down to reveal his glimmering blue eyes, giving you a pleading look and a big pout, “ya know i can’t go a second without feeling your touch. hell, not feeling your lips against mine every second of the day is a crime itself and—“

“shush,” you clamp your hand around satoru’s mouth, only for him to give it a playful lick. you push your palm harder against his lips, but your lover takes this chance to lick and even bite the flesh—borderline making out with your hand.

“ew, that’s disgusting.” you jokingly gag and shake your head. you remove your hand and wipe the saliva off on the sorcerer’s black shirt. once freed from your grip, satoru leans in closer to your lips, his thumb and index holding your chin up. his voice sounded like he was utterly smitten with you in the moment;

“hm? disgusting? that wouldn’t be your reaction if i had done that against your pretty little mouth.” satoru grins and steals a kiss before you could process what had happened, “you’d have begged me for mo—“

“all right. that’s enough.” you press your hand against satoru’s lips once more. a dumb mistake, since the childish man in front of you likes to repeat his actions. his tongue wets your palm over and over until you move your hand to the side again, allowing him to steal another kiss and whisper more naughty stuff in your ear.

“you’re impossible.” you mutter in a half-joking tone, hand landing on his mouth for the third time.

“and you love it.” satoru mumbles against your skin, voice muffled yet heard clearly.

neither of you were giving up on this endless cycle, the playful back and forth continuing until one of the two waves their white flag by the end of this elevator ride.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #gojo x you #this is so …… but we ball

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dr3c0mix · 6 months

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My Lovely Melody

Yandere!Rockstar x GN!Reader

CW: yandere is a playboy before he meets reader, suggestive (creepy) thoughts, minor obsessive behaviour

🎸 Axel's been in many relationships with both men and women alike, but all of his little flings felt nothing more than that, just flings.

🎸 And he was content with it, I mean being a famous rockstar meant lots of people wanting a chance with you and he indulged in that fact.

🎸 He could sleep with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and he wouldn't have to deal with the commitment that comes with dating or any of that messy stuff.

🎸 So why the hell can't stop thinking about you ?!?!?!!

🎸 He scratched his head trying to make sense of it, his messy hair getting even more ruffled as he tries to get the image of your smile out of his head.

🎸 You were in a miscellaneous store full of alt clothing, trinkets and various other stuff when he walked in with his bandmates.

🎸 It was fairly normal when he came in the store. It was dim with some random punk song playing faintly in the background. His friends started exploring, looking at the graphic t-shirts and mugs shaped like skulls and the like.

🎸 He got a bit bored and wandered to the other side of the store. It had posters, candles and..who's that?

🎸 There you were, staring longingly at a plush toy sitting on one of the shelves, just standing there.

🎸 He didn't think much of it, probably just some person baked out of their mind. "Hey buddy, you doin' good?"

🎸 You snap out of your gaze and look at the big hulking man in front of you. You stutter out an apology and explain your little misfortune.

🎸 "So you want this..toy...but you can't afford it..?" He raises a brow at you as you nod, making him chuckle.

🎸 He thought for a moment, looking at the stuffed creature, well it wouldn't hurt to buy it for you, he's pretty well off from all the gigs and concerts he's been in so...

🎸 "How 'bout I buy this thing for ya then? But you owe me~" He winks, thinking he could score some quick sex for being such a 'gentleman'

🎸 But no, instead of a blush or a knowing smirk, you just looked at him with the widest, most innocent eyes he's ever seen, you were practically shaking with joy as he said it.

🎸 You thanked him profusely before listing off things you could do in return, treating him to some food, buying something for him in return, plain paying him back..he was a bit surprised.

🎸 "O-oh...uhm that was a joke heheh, y-you don't have to do all that babe..." He blushes.

🎸 The two of you head to the cashier, his friends spying from behind the aisles as his gaze is locked on the little ball of cuteness beside him.

🎸 Seriously? Did you even know who he was? This has never happened before...most of the time, he would pay for someone's drink or something and they'd be on his dick in seconds, but you, you were so..different...it felt nice..

🎸 You didn't even get it in a bag, you immediately took the plush after it was paid and hugged it close.

🎸 so cute so cute so cute so cute so cute!!!

🎸 "Hey uh..so me and my buds are in a band and uhm..wanna maybe..watch our next gig?" He asks nervously, he's never been so shy towards anyone!!

🎸 You agree, thinking it's the least you could do for what he did for you.

🎸 You take out your phone, Axel can't help but grin at the case, it was cute, like you~..

🎸 "Here's my number if..you need it.." You smile at him, that smile..that damn cute smile...you had his heart wrapped around your finger at this point.

🎸 "Th-thanks sugar..I'll see you there.." He smiles back as you part ways, he heads back to his friends who were bombarding him with questions as he watches you skip out of the store with your new little soft friend.

🎸 That night, he was getting ready for the show when he got a message notification and sees that you sent a picture of the show from one of the seats with some text "Good luck out there!"

🎸 His face was on fire as he realized you were there, he peeks out in the crowd and there you were, your little plush toy in tow.

🎸 You look so out of place from the people in spiky jewelry and dark outfits, you were just in a hoodie and baggy pants, albeit the hoodie had a MCR design on it, but you can tell it was very soft compared to the rest of the audience.

🎸 Finally it was time for the show to begin and it was the most passionate he's been in a while, it seemed as if the words he was singing were dedicated to you and you alone.

🎸 The little glances at you made you giddy, like a friend seeing their bestie perform, you were cheering excitedly for him, not in a fangirly way, but one of genuine support and amazement.

🎸 After the performance, Axel tried finding you, but the crowd was too big and he assumed you must have left already.

🎸 Wait..why is he being so buddy buddy with you? You just met today! It's not like you two were best friends or anything!

🎸 He tried dismissing the thought of you, tried distracting himself by flirting with other people, but he could only think about you, and making you smile like that again..

🎸 no no no! get out of my head!

🎸 Maybe a little fling can ease his mind?

🎸 Even on his bed with some random girl after show, he can still think of you.

🎸 Would your skin be as soft? or maybe softer? How would your hair smell? He bets your moans would sound delicious..

🎸 shit FUCK!!

🎸 Even after his one night stand, he kept thinking of you

🎸 He stares at your messages, you sent a lot of pictures of your plush toy doing goofy things to him, so cute..so silly...he can't help but smile.

🎸 He decides to look you up on social media and..

🎸 Wait a minute...you make music too?

yep this was a bit short but idk man i love making you guys suffer <3 stay tuned for part 2 (i am actually out of ideas guys please request me please please ple-)

#yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #oc yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere oc #yandere male #tw yandere #yandere x male reader #x reader #rockstar x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #oc x reader #yandere x you #opossumdoodles

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tootiecakes234 · 5 months

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Katsuki “asking” you to move in with him

You were almost back home when you got a call from your boyfriend. He didn’t even greet you when you answered.

“Where are you?”, he grunted into his phone.

“Well hello to you too handsome.”

“Yea, yea… where are you? I’m at your place to pick you up and ya ain’t here.”

“Heh… maybe if I knew you were coming over I would’ve been home. Why didn’t you text me and let me know. I don’t have any clothes packed or anything.”you informed him.

He does this all the time. Just comes over to your house and tells you that you’re coming back to his place with him. So very demanding.

“You have a dresser full of clothes in my room, your toothbrush and all your toiletries… what do ya need to pack?”

“Ya got me there. I’m almost there. I got stuff to drop off then we can leave.”

When you get through the door Katsuki is digging through your fridge.

“Why do you never have groceries in your house?” He questions you.

“Because I’m never here sir. They always go bad because I have a needy boyfriend that wants me at his house 25/8.”, the sarcasm drips out of your voice as you head to drop off the things you had bought.

“ Tch…. Needy. Please. You’re the one always complaining that we don’t spend enough time together.” He states.

“This is true.” You shrug your shoulders. “Anyways I’m ready. Let’s hit it.

“It’d be easier to spend time together if you just moved in with me” he mentions all causally as you guys head out to his car. You pause a little and look at him a little baffled.

You and Katsuki had been dating for about 8 months but you didn’t know he felt that seriously. Maybe he was just joking, so you shake it off and continue on like he didn’t say it.

The next thing you know you’re at his house getting ready for bed.

Kats comes to the bathroom and leans against the counter while you’re in the middle of doing your skincare.

“Do you wanna say something?” You ask because he’s just sitting there staring at you.

“Do you not wanna live with me cuz you could’ve just said that when I mentioned it earlier instead of fucking ignoring me.” He asked it harshly but you could hear the vulnerability in his voice. Like he didn’t want to bring it up but it was bugging him bad enough that he had to say something.

“I- uh…”

Apparently you were taking too long.

“Just forget it.” His eyes fell from yours and he started moving away towards his room. “Are we watching the next episode of that stupid show of yours? If not-“

“I didn’t think you were serious Kat.” And you reach your hand out to catch his arm before he can leave.

“I thought you were joking or something. Also it wasn’t a question so I didn’t know you were waiting on an answer babe.” There’s a small grin pulling at your lips when he looks at you again.

“Why the hell would I joke about that? And it was obviously a question…. So answer it dammit.”, his brows were furrowed and he was scowling a little.

Poor nervous boy.

You reach both of your arms up and wrap them around his neck. Then you lean in and press a kiss to his pouting lips.

“Katsuki Bakugo *kiss* I would absolutely *kiss* love *kiss* to move in with you *kiss*”

His arms have wrapped around you waist pulling you tighter to him.

“About damn time. I’ll have people come over to pack your shit tomorrow.” And this time he leans in to give his a deep kiss. His tongue reaching out to invade your mouth.

When he pulls back you’re all twinkle eyed and dopey in love. It takes a second for reality to catch up to you.

“Tomorrow?? Kats I have a lease and I don’t want movers breaking and throwing my things around. I’m gonna need at least a week or two. And I’m gonna have to pay-“

“I’ll pay for the lease break and you have til this weekend. If ya don’t want movers I’ll get our shitty friends to come over and help. Ain’t waiting no two weeks.”

“This weekend? It’s Wednesday. That only gives me 2 days!” You reason.

“Yea and I don’t wanna give you that so count your blessings princess. And I’m done arguing about this.” He sweeps you up bridal style and carries you to bed. Then He dumps you down onto it.

“Now how about we start christening your new place,” he says while hovering over you with a sexy smirk playing at his lips.

Hmmmm….. and just like that you forgot why it was you weren’t moving in tomorrow. He could be so very convincing when he wanted to be.

Katsuki Masterlist

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cyberjam · 11 months

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ATSV HEADCANON: they get jealous . . . ☆

warnings - mainly just fluff, maybe a hint of yandere if you squint, insecurities, gender neutral reader, no use of y/n or reader and jealousy from our fave spiders.

word count - 2.4k

main masterlist <33 | proof read?: yes.

based off of this request: jealous hc !!

. . . ☆ miles morals!e-1610

He'll try and ignore the nasty feeling of jealousy but it's tough when all he can think about is how joyous you look spending time with another guy that isn't him.

It slowly eats away at him the more time you two spend away from each other, and sooner or later you'd notice the change in his demeanor. He was quieter, his greetings weren't the same, and his energy constantly seemed low. Every time you said something he'd reply with a simple hum of acknowledgment and if you were trying to cheer him up with a corny joke the only thing you'd receive was a faulty breath from his lips and a lopsided grin.

His hugs weren't bone-crushing anymore, his texts were in one-words, and even when you two shared a class he acted different. Instead of the usual passing notes and quiet laughter at inside jokes, he simply turned his body towards the window and stayed quiet. He didn't spare a single glance in your direction until the bell rang. Even then he didn't look at you, blankly staring at the floor while gathering his things and blearily walking out with slouched shoulders.

So many confusing thoughts and hurt feelings from made-up scenarios circled around his brain. He wanted to talk to you so badly and just make sure everything was okay. He just didn't know how to approach it, so it continued to eat at him until you confronted him about it.

You saw him walking his usual route towards his place and couldn't help but chase him down. You constantly pestered him and asked him questions to get to the root of the problem but all he did was respond with simple phrases like "I'm fine.", "M' just tired.", and "Nah, I'm good."

Your dedication and unwillingness to let him go home angry finally paid off when he snapped. His words jumbling and his hands flailing in the air as he unleashed every thought and feeling that led to that moment.

Once he finished his rant, you two stood across from each other in complete silence. His chest lifted up and down as if he was exhausted. No words could come to your mouth, but your legs moved without hesitation and before you knew it your arms engulfed him in a tight hug. You felt bad for not being able to express how you felt in words but all miles needed was reassurance and your arms being wrapped around him was more than enough.

. . . ☆ miles morales! e-42

Miles is very straight-forward and blunt. He speaks his mind, which can be a blessing and a curse. With his over-protective nature and blank-like expressions he's more intimidating than most, especially when confronting people he thinks are getting too chummy with you. If a guy is checking you out, miles will speak up before you even notice. "ay, you got a starin' problem or sum?" in situations like these he tends to get touchier with you. Either resting a hand on your hip or hanging his arm over your shoulders and pulling you into his side.

Miles has a certain phrase that he says whenever you scold him for being so confrontational. "They gon have to get through me to get to you." and he tends to stand on that word.

Miles isn't shy of confronting people, or even using violence when it comes down to it. He prefers to handle situations like these with as least violence as possible. He doesn't want to subject you to that kind of thing, if anything he wants to keep you away from it. It's why he's so protective of you and also why you don't know he's the prowler.

You were walking home late at night all by yourself, and as much as you wanted miles to be there with you, he couldn't. You texted him letting him know you'd be staying late after school because of a project. He mentioned how he wouldn't want you walking home by yourself, especially so late at night. So, he decided he'd drive you back home on his motorcycle.

But when the time came for him to pick you up, you were left stranded. He never returned your countless calls or text messages which led into you walking back home all by yourself. Uncomfortable would be an understatement to describe the way you felt as you whisked your way passed sketchy groups of people with your head down. You took shortcuts and turned into ally's to get away from any potential threats not knowing you'd walk right into the hands of one.

A tall lanky man with sunken eyes somehow cornered you in-between the brick wall of a random apartment complex. You were terrified. Your legs grew weak, and your nose started to sting in warning of the incoming tears. All you could do was push your body as far as you possibly could into the wall behind you. Desperately hoping it would engulf you and take you as far away as possible from the situation.

You shut your eyes, bracing for whatever torturous impact to come. Fortunately, it never did. Instead you felt a swift gust of wind past you and the sound of a hard thud paired with a low groan. You cracked your eyes open only to see the mask of the most-feared vigilante in New York. He walked closer and closer until he was finally hovering over you, his mask nearly touching your nose.

As you stood frozen in shock, a clawed hand rested next to your face. "What I say? They gotta get through me to get to you."

. . . ☆ gwen stacy

Gwen is a liar. You can ask her if she's jealous and she'd respond with a scoff and wobbly smirk, scratching the side of her head before replying with something along the lines of "Jealous? No, way." when in reality she's seething. She wants to be completely secure and unbothered like Hobie, but there's always this nagging voice in the back of her head that fills her with annoyance and bitterness.

When someone shows any type of romantic interest in you she'll get tense and her cool facade will be replaced by her visible discomfort. She knows you love her and is continuously reminded when you shut down any confessions, but that painful uneasiness still comes no matter what.

Depending on what mood she's in that day she'll either tense up and shy away from the situation or desperately try to avert your attention back to her.

When one of your classmates walks up to you complimenting you and eyeing you up and down, Gwen's hand that was loosely holding yours fell to her side before returning to her jacket pocket. Her shoulders squared to her ears as she quietly sighed and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. She avoided eye-contact with you and the person, choosing to look around the hallway as if she wasn't eaves-dropping into the conversation. (she was)

Once the person leaves she'll grab your hand and start pulling you towards the exit "that was weird, right?" she'd murmured half-jokingly while nudging her shoulder with yours.

The next time you and that person interact is when Gwen is over your place. Once you excuse yourself from the conversation and take the call from your classmate, Gwen once again gets antsy. But she's much more combative this time around. She'll snatch her drumsticks up and start tapping on any and all surfaces she can reach. Calling out your name to get your attention so you can focus on her instead of your classmate.

All in all it really depends on what mood you catch her in. She can either be awkward and tense or combative and loud. At the end of the day all she wants is your attention.

. . . ☆ pavitr prabhakar

Pavitr is quite secure in himself and in the relationship, but he does get jealous on occasion. Never from a situation of you simply getting hit on or someone complimenting you, more so from his own insecurities and made-up scenarios that he plays in his head.

He enjoys the time you two have together fully enveloped in each others presence. So, when that time gets interrupted by someone he gets sulky. Time is already very limited for pavitr. With school and his spider duties on top of it he doesn't have as much time to spend with you as he wants. So once he gets you alone he doesn't want a single distraction to interrupt your private time.

A part of him feels guilty that he isn't able to spend much time with you. He has a small insecurity that pops up every now and then, telling himself that you deserve someone who's more attentive and available to your needs. He wants to be that man for you but his responsibilities prevent him from doing so.

You've already mentioned to Pav that you understand he's a busy man with a hefty schedule, so any time you two spend together is valued and cherished. It makes him happy that you're so forgiving and transparent but that doesn't stop the self-shaming thoughts of how bad of a boyfriend he sometimes thinks he is.

Pavitr has a habit of getting you gifts. When his guilty conscience is eating at him for missing out on a romantic date or simple hangout, he tends to buy you more gifts than usual. A single rose will turn into a bouquet, A cute hand-beaded bracelet will turn into a full jewelry set, a bedazzled headband will turn into multiple hair scrunchies and a full pack of hair care.

Once you've noticed this habit you were quick to shut it down, you didn't want him spending money every time he felt bad for having to bail and do his spider duties.

All he needs is to be pampered and reminded that what you want is him, and only him. Tell him how much you adore him and smuggle him in affection. Whether it be words of affirmation, quality time, or physical touch, Pavitr will immediately be putty in your hands. Just being engulfed by you and having you dote on him will immediately wash away any and all bad thoughts.

. . . ☆ hobie brown

Hobie doesn't really get jealous. He's extremely secure in himself and the relationship. If you're the type of person who likes to flirt for fun or is just naturally flirty, he wouldn't even bat an eye at you coyly chatting with another person.

Hobie knows you only have eyes for him so he never gets defensive or jealous by your coquettish attitude with others. You know where home is and at the end of the day you always return. But that's only with flirting. If you tend to get touchy or make-out with other people then he would get annoyed and slightly agitated. Especially if you'd established there was something between you two.

He wouldn't particularly mind other people flirting with you unless someone was genuinely being creepy and overbearing. He wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable for any reason in any situation. So, seeing you nervously fiddle with your hands or curl into yourself when certain advances were made would enrage him to an extent. These are the times Hobie will take on a more defensive/protective role.

He doesn't get into many brawls (mainly because he doesn't have to) He's quite intimidating so when he tells someone to back down they're gonna back down, quickly and efficiently. If anyone had the balls to step to Hobie in a threatening way they'd def be met with more than they could handle.

But in most situations Hobie usually just plays along with the flirting. He knows you're a good piece of eye-candy so it's not surprising to him whenever you get hit on. His chest also can't help but swell in pride when you mention that you have a partner, who just so happens to be Hobie.

Imagine you're both at the pub. Sitting at the bar, and leaning into each other with lovesick smiles. The sweet exchange of teasing words was interrupted by the gruff voice of the bartender setting down an alcoholic drink you weren't really familiar with. "Compliments from the gentleman over there." he murmured, tilting his head towards a man who sat across the bar. Before you could even fully react Hobie grabbed the glass and downed it within seconds. "Cheers, mate." he responded with a smile while lifting the glass in the air.

You just grow to love and laugh at his antics.

. . . ☆ miguel o'hara

You'll know he's jealous. Miguel is very obvious when he's bothered by something, even when he tries to hide it.

His movements are more stiff than usual and if you're close enough you can hear him lowly spitting profanities in his native tongue. Not to mention when he gets jealous to the point he's genuinely angry his claws will shoot out. There are multiple claw marks on couches and different desks at the headquarters that have yet to be fixed.

He angry pouts but he doesn't really know it. Whenever you're having a conversation with someone and it's prolonged for a little too long or the person you're speaking to is showing some type of interest in you, Miguel will just tower over you from behind with crossed arms and an annoyed look. as he stares the person down.

You're the most important thing in Miguel's life. He's already lost so much in different lifetimes and a part of him feels like he should live his life alone, suffering without a family or a lover simply because he feels like he doesn't deserve it, he doesn't deserve you.

There will be times where he tries to push you away, a part of him feels like if he pushes you away enough and tries to emotionally disconnect from the relationship you leaving him won't hurt as much. You have to be patient and reassure him that you're not going anywhere. The only reason he does stuff like that is because a small part of him genuinely believes you'll leave him at some point.

He tends to be overbearing when he gets jealous. Pushing you behind him when someone starts to be a bit suggestive, staring down anyone who he thinks is getting too comfortable with you, and butting in convos to speak for you when he's close to going over the edge.

Miguel can be overprotective and extremely overbearing at times, but it's always because he has your best interest in mind. He needs you in his life and to keep you he will deflect any and all threats that try and take you away.

A/N🪷: whenever i think of e-42 miles the killmonger music starts playing in my head lol

this was also a little rushed because i've been busy with work and im a little sleep-deprived, BUT i will come back with another fic soon <3 ty lovelies :)

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales headcanons #prowler miles #atsv gwen #gwen x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown headcanons #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderverse headcanon #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv headcanons

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cherienymphe · 8 months

Text

Smells Like Teen Spirit (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: NON/DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, attempted murder + suicide, mentions of blood, loss of virginity, underage drinking, jealousy, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ cont.

summary: Being one half of the royal couple of Figure 8 isn't what it's cracked up to be.

The first time Rafe hit you, it was on your birthday.

Like every year, your parents threw you a big party that hosted no less than a hundred people. A good number of those people were friends from school and familiar faces you’d grown up with. The other bunch were family friends that had more in common with your parents than you. You took their pretty cards filled with money and thanked them with a smile, relieved when they scampered off to congregate with the other forty somethings.

It was the same party every year. Half the people of Figure 8 in attendance, an abundance of gifts you could barely keep up with, and a light scold or two from your mother to smile and greet the next person who came in. Your hair was flawless and your dress was the perfect length.

The only difference this year was the presence of a boyfriend at your side.

“Rafe, if my dad sees us, I will never hear the end of it.”

Your tone was light and teasing, and you said it with a smile, but there was a hint of seriousness there. It really didn’t matter how older you grew to be, you were sure you’d always be your daddy’s little girl. The older man already hadn’t been the most excited when you told him you were dating Rafe Cameron, Ward Cameron’s son, and you were positive that the Cameron family’s reputation was Rafe’s only saving grace.

You’d just turned eighteen then after all and was already flaunting your new adult status.

The blue-eyed boy in front of you merely chuckled, tightening his arms around your waist and leaning in to kiss you again. The house and the yard were filled with almost too many people, so you hadn’t hesitated when Rafe discreetly guided you upstairs.

“He’s too busy talking about his new boat, isn’t he?” he wondered. “He’ll talk all night if they let him.”

You lightly tapped his chest, but you didn’t voice any disagreement.

Your back was leaning against your bedroom door, the muffled sounds of some classical music reaching your ears through the wall. Rafe’s hands were tight on your waist, and you both felt and heard him chuckle again, his lips still pressed against yours. Only this time, he kept laughing—softly and to himself—and you gave him a slight frown when he pulled away.

“I was just thinking…” Rafe pulled you close again. “How hilarious it would be if he was going on and on about that damn boat…none the wiser to his daughter getting fucked on her birthday right upstairs.”

This time you hit him a little harder, and Rafe only laughed again.

“You’re not funny,” you scolded, deflating a little as you pulled away from him. “Way to ruin the mood.”

You said it quietly as you sat down on the edge of your bed, but Rafe heard it clearly, and when you looked up at him, you recognized the look on his face instantly.

“Funny,” he started, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the door. “Mentioning sex usually has the opposite effect on most people.”

You rolled your eyes with a turn of your head, looking towards your window. The atmosphere was different, now, and you didn’t know if it was your fault or Rafe’s. He joked like that sometimes, and you knew it, so you could recognize that maybe you were being too sensitive.

The topic at hand, however, was a sensitive one for you.

“I really don’t want to have this fight, right now,” you mumbled.

You could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t return it, determined to just stare down at the people in your yard. The air was thick, the tension even thicker, and you reached up to rub your arms, trying to rid them of the goosebumps that had appeared. Rafe hated being ignored, and you knew that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to continue the conversation because you knew what was brewing.

Rafe was the perfect boyfriend. He was pretty—the kind of pretty that even some girls would be jealous of. He came from the kind of family that taught him about manners and respect. He never hesitated to do what he could to make your life easier despite growing up wanting for nothing. You didn’t think it was possible for an already spoiled girl to be spoiled some more until you started dating Rafe and he proved you wrong. He treated you like a princess, so yes. Rafe was the perfect boyfriend.

Mostly.

“I’ve been really understanding, you know…”

Rafe’s voice was low, and your gaze dropped to your lap.

“…but we’ve been dating for what? Eight months?”

You swallowed, eyes burning.

“Do you know how hard Topper and Kelce would laugh at me if they knew my girlfriend of almost a year refuses to have sex with me?”

You scoffed, finally looking at him, brows pulled together.

“You make it sound like I’m punishing you,” you breathed. “Rafe, this has nothing to do with you, I… I’m just not ready.”

“…and still no ETA on when you will be, huh?”

You blinked at him, lips parting at his callous tone and words. You looked away, blinking back tears because you would hate it if you cried on your birthday of all days.

“You’re being an asshole.”

You whispered it, and you heard Rafe huff.

“I’m not trying to be,” he told you, and you heard him move closer. “…but come on. I get it…”

The bed dipped as he sat down next to you, and you felt his hand on your face, fingers grazing your cheek.

“You’re nervous, and it seems scary, but you’re treating me like I’m some stranger on the street, and not…your boyfriend. You know I’ll take care of you. I always take care of you, and that’s why I don’t understand it,” he bit out. “I treat you like gold, and here I am, eight months in and wondering if you even feel the same way.”

You whipped your head around to stare at him in disbelief, looking between his eyes. You didn’t know how he could be serious, but as you gazed at him, you realized that Rafe was very serious. You took a moment to scoot away from him just a tad.

“I show you everyday how much you mean to me, Rafe…but because I won’t have sex with you that means I don’t love you? So just forget all the other stuff, I guess,” you sneered.

Rafe reached for you when you started to turn away, shaking your head and lightly pushing at his hands. Today was your birthday, and you were fighting with your boyfriend…because sex was something you just weren’t ready for. You snatched your arm out of his hold, standing on unsteady legs.

“When you first brought this up, I told you then that I wasn’t ready, and you made it clear you were okay with waiting. Was that a lie?” you asked him, meeting his gaze.

Rafe ran his hand down his face, huffing to himself.

“No, but I just didn’t think I’d still be waiting almost half a year later.”

He was standing, now too.

“So, why are you? No one’s forcing you to stay here, Rafe,” you sadly told him with a shrug. “You don’t have to be with me if sex is that damn important to you. There are plenty of other girls out there who will happily give you what I don’t want to.”

You crossed your arms over your chest.

“…and I know because I see the looks they give you…and the looks they give me.”

You were used to envy. You’d been on the receiving end of it all your life. Growing up on this side of the island guaranteed that from birth, but you also knew it was because your standing was only rivaled by Sarah Cameron. If Rafe’s sister were anyone else, you might have found yourself involved in some one-sided rivalry, but Sarah was a lot like you.

Just a girl born into fortunate circumstances.

However, what you weren’t used to was envy because of the man you loved. When it came to your house and your lifestyle and everything else, it never bothered you because no one could take those things from you. Rafe, on the other hand… You knew what he was like and what he was used to. It was why you’d been very honest about your sexual history and lack thereof from almost the beginning. If Rafe was going to leave you for someone else all because you wouldn’t have sex with him, you would have rather he do it early.

Not now…not eight months in because now you loved him, and the thought made you want to cry, and it would take just as many months to get over him.

“If I wanted any of those other spoiled bitches then I wouldn’t be here,” Rafe told you. “Besides, you think I’m just going to walk away with nothing after investing so much time and money and energy into you?”

You reared back at that, eyes widening just a tad, and Rafe seemed to realize how that came out. He sighed, reaching for you just as you stepped away from him. You heard him curse when you left the room, ignoring the sound of him calling your name as you hurried to mix yourself in with all of your guests downstairs.

Rafe talked about you like some business investment he was waiting to get a return on. It hurt, a lot, and while you wanted to believe he hadn’t meant it like that in his head, you couldn’t help but to wonder if that was really how he saw you. Your mother smiled at you when she saw your face, none the wiser to your temporary absence. Your own smile was forced as she introduced you to their new golfing buddies.

You didn’t know when Rafe came back downstairs, only quickly glancing away when your eyes connected with his after some time. If your parents noticed your distance from him, they didn’t comment on it, and after a while, you barely noticed it yourself. You immersed yourself in your friends, halfway listening to boyfriend troubles and semester woes.

This was the only thing you and Rafe ever fought about. Plenty of your friends had boyfriends before who tried to pressure them into doing things they didn’t want to do. You were always the friend to tell them to dump them without hesitation, so why hadn’t you done the same? Was it because Rafe was so perfect in all other aspects of your relationship? The back and forth hadn’t ever been so serious before…not until tonight.

As you sipped on the drink you weren’t supposed to be having, you remembered the hurt you felt when Rafe implied you didn’t love him. What a crazy thing to say. You treated him just as well as he treated you, never mind the fact that you told him every day how much you loved him…but because you wouldn’t fuck him that meant otherwise?

It was enough to make you angry.

“Finally stopped hiding from me…?”

You tensed up for half a second, relaxing with a sigh as you heard him come closer. You were out by the water, now, sitting on the boat dock with one leg swinging. It had been nothing but just you and your thoughts for a good thirty minutes, and you guessed it took that amount of time for Rafe to realize you were no longer in the house.

“I don’t know yet,” you honestly told him.

“I didn’t mean it like that. You know I didn’t,” Rafe quietly said, getting straight to the point.

“…but I don’t know. You don’t even think I love you just because I won’t have sex with you. For all I know, that’s exactly how you see me,” you mumbled.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Says the guy ruining my birthday!”

You were looking up at him, now, tearfully, and you shook your head. Saying it aloud made you realize just how shitty it was, and you sniffed, pulling yourself to your feet.

“Just go home, Rafe…”

He stopped you from walking by him, and you ignored anything he was trying to say. The more he leaned in, that was when you smelled it, and your frown deepened at the stench of alcohol on his breath. You didn’t know why the smell made you so angry. It was a party, after all, but maybe it was the fact that if anyone of the two of you deserved to drown their sorrows in booze, it was you. Not Rafe. Pushing at his chest, you scoffed.

“One argument…and you’re already getting drunk?”

You jerked your face away from his hand, glowering at him.

“Don’t you want to at least wait for Ward to give you the daily disappointment speech?”

The slap wasn’t as hard as it could’ve been, but it was hard enough to make your face burn.

You were staring at the water from when your head had whipped to the side, and when a nightly breeze blew by, kissing your skin, only then did the dull burning sensation fade away into a painful one. Your lips were parted in shock, and you were slow to reach up and touch your cheek. The silence was loud, and when you finally looked at Rafe, he looked as shocked as you felt.

All of your breath had left you, and your brain was short-circuiting, desperately trying to reconcile your boyfriend with the same guy who’d just slapped you. It didn’t seem real, and yet the dull pain you felt said otherwise. A few tears escaped against your will, and it was only then did Rafe move. His face fell, but you were already backing away.

“Y/N-.”

“Don’t touch me,” you tearfully spat. “What is wrong with you?”

He didn’t listen, grabbing your arms anyway, and you were still in too much shock to really fight back. Rafe cooed at you, trying to take your face into his hands no matter how much you protested. You wanted him far away from you, and your brain was unsure of how to achieve that, still grappling with the memory of his palm connecting with your cheek.

“Hey, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to do that,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Baby, stop.”

You shoved at his chest, hitting it, but he wasn’t deterred. He only rested his free hand on the back of your head, holding you against him, and the feel had more tears spilling over. You kept trying to get away, but Rafe refused to let you, repeatedly apologizing and shushing you. You could feel the cool metal of his ring against your scalp, his lips there too as he kept telling you he was sorry.

Your chest was so tight, and it ached just as much as your face. Your mind was still fighting to make sense of what had happened tonight, and despite Rafe’s apologies for his entire behavior, you told yourself that this was the last straw. Rafe had ruined your birthday in more ways than one, and you were done. You had to be.

…because you deserved better.

The first time you had sex with Rafe—with anyone ever—you’d been terrified.

…and drunk.

An entire month after your birthday, and you didn’t know if you were more shocked or angry that you stayed with Rafe. You had been so determined to leave him that night. He had ruined your birthday beyond repair, and you knew that anytime you looked back on the night you turned nineteen, you’d only remember Rafe slapping you on the dock.

…but you’d also remember his profuse apologies, and the tears in his eyes as he begged you to forgive him.

He was drunk. That was what he kept saying, that he was drunk and acted before thinking. It was barely a reason and certainly wasn’t an excuse, so why did you stay? It was stupid to stay…and yet you did. You let Rafe kiss your face and lead you back to the party that had long died and smile in the face of the parents whose daughter he’d just hit.

You’d answered the phone as he called you, taking almost half an hour to just tell you again how sorry he was and how he didn’t know what came over him and how it would never happen again. You’d never known Rafe to be so apologetic in all the time you’d been dating him. It would’ve been sweet if it weren’t for the circumstances, and the whole time, you’d only been able to listen in silence with your fingers grazing your face.

You hadn’t been able to look him in the eye for days, going over it in your head again and again. Torn between listening to your gut and telling yourself that it had just been a one-off thing, a bad drunken night. After all, what you’d said to him hadn’t been the nicest, knowing how he felt in regard to Ward and his relationship with him. It didn’t make it right…but you had provoked Rafe. You’d said it to hurt him…to make him angry… Right?

…but that wasn’t the case a month later.

Things between you and Rafe hadn’t been the same since. He still doted on you, and your parents still adored him, and you were reluctant to admit you still loved him, but you could never get that night out of your mind. You could never forget how swift it had been, how no thought to you had been spared. Rafe had only been focused on retaliating, hurting you, and it was something you often struggled with. You believed it wouldn’t happen again…but what if it did?

Without even realizing it, you became less argumentative with the blond. You gave him less pushback, you smiled more and became more agreeable to his suggestions. You spent more time with him, making him happy. You believed him when he said it wouldn’t happen again, but in the back of your mind, something in you was doing everything you could think of to make sure it didn’t.

…and that was why you still didn’t quite understand how the fight had started.

Something about Topper…or Kelce.

You were so drunk, it was hard to remember.

“I saw you!”

You had blinked at Rafe from your place on the couch, staring up at him in wonder and confusion. Another Friday meant another party, and promising your mother you’d be back by a certain time, you’d allowed Rafe to help you into his truck. Nothing about the night had been out of the ordinary, and it was why you found yourself wracking your brain.

“Rafe, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you softly told him, trying to understand why he was so mad.

The only son of Ward Cameron knocked the glass of water right out of your hand, and you flinched at the action, blinking at the sight of shattered glass on the floor. You’d gotten it to try and help you sober up before you went home, and you stared at the spilled water with parted lips. You were too drunk to fully grasp the severity of the situation you were now in.

Suddenly Rafe was there, too close, leaning down over you with his hands resting on the back of the couch. You leaned back and away from him, eyes wide as he looked at you like you were something he’d find on the bottom of his shoe. Like he was so disgusted with the sight of you, and again, you wracked your brain to understand what you’d done. To understand how to fix this.

Rafe’s blue gaze had been cold, icy, and you hadn’t missed the tick of his jaw. The alcohol in your system hindered your thinking, and that had seemed to make Rafe angrier, like he was furious you couldn’t put it together. Read his mind. Overwhelmed, you hadn’t been able to stop a few tears of frustration from escaping, and that just seemed to really send him over the edge.

“You were in his lap,” he had bit out, and only then did you finally understand.

Your odd relationship with your boyfriend these days had driven you to drink more than you ever had. You’d been sloppy…clumsy, and Topper was nice enough to help you back to your feet after you’d quite literally fallen right onto his lap. You wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but one look into Rafe’s eyes had you swallowing it down.

He was very serious…and very angry.

You reached for him, but Rafe only slapped your hands away, straightening and looking down his nose at you. It was a look that made you feel so…cold, and with one blink, you remembered that you were alone. Sarah was God knows where, and the remaining Camerons had gone out to eat. The house was usually empty during this time, but it wasn’t this Friday night.

It consisted of you…and your angry boyfriend.

“I should…I should go. Call my mom,” you mumbled, pushing yourself to your feet.

Your attempts to get by Rafe went unsuccessful, and with each block to your path, something deep within your gut just…dropped. Your gaze met a familiar blue one, and nothing about it was warm, welcoming. Rafe seemed to be so mad at you about something so silly, but instead of just talking about it later when you were both much clearer headed…he didn’t want to let you leave.

“Is that what you’re gonna do?” he’d mocked, a mean look on his face. “Call mommy and daddy to come get you?”

Sarah.

You reminded of him of Sarah.

That was what he’d said, what he’d thrown at you. His tense relationship with the other girl was no secret to anyone, least of all you, and you winced at every insult he threw at you. Spoiled brat. Perfect princess. Uptight prude. It shocked you for a lot of reasons, but mostly because Rafe wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t sober, but you’d hardly seen him drink all night and not nearly as much as you, and he was insulting you with confidence, throwing all of these things at you that you never knew he felt.

“I’m just going to go home, okay? You’re being an asshole, and I don’t know why, so I just…”

At some point, your back was grazing the wall, and Rafe was hovering before you, a look in his eye like leaving was the very last thing he wanted you to do. Every move of yours was mirrored, every turn met with one of his own, and for the first time ever…you were afraid of your boyfriend.

When Rafe hit you that night, you hadn’t been scared. Not really. You’d been angry…shocked…disbelieving. Not scared though. You’d just wanted to be away from him, you had even wanted to hit him back, but not once did you remember feeling scared for your life. Not like this night, and you couldn’t keep it together.

“Rafe, please, I just…I just wanna go home,” you choked out, touching your temple. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

You were so confused as to how you got here. The night had taken such an unexpected turn, and more than anything, you wanted to sleep it off and write the whole thing off as a bad dream. You wanted to get some more water and take a shower and skip to the part where you had a pounding headache in the morning. You didn’t understand how a night of partying had turned into an argument with your boyfriend.

Although, you supposed it wasn’t much of an argument. Mostly Rafe yelling at you and you trying to understand why. Rafe was determined to make this into something it wasn’t, and when it became clear that he wasn’t going to let you leave without dead-ing this whole thing, you frowned at him.

“I fell. You know I fell, you know…”

Your words died in the air as Rafe rolled his eyes, and something in you was telling you that Rafe was going to believe what he wanted to believe. He was determined to make something true, and it startled you to realize that you’d lost this argument before it even began. Slipping from in between Rafe and the wall was a mistake.

A mistake that had consequences.

Your purse was halfway across the room before you could even grab it good, Rafe suddenly in your face again. He was yelling about a whole bunch of nothing, and when you turned from him again, Rafe made sure it was the last time, gripping your upper arm so hard that you actually cried out. His other hand followed suit, and he shook you, hard enough to make your head whip back and forth.

The only time he listened to you was when you asked him to let you go.

…and he did just that…shoving you in the process.

The kitchen counter slowed your fall only a bit, but it added to the pain more than anything else. Trying to get up proved fruitless, because Rafe was there, kneeling before you with one hand on the counter. The other was on your face, forcing you to look at him. You were too drunk to make full sense of everything he was saying, to grasp the danger you were in. When you finally did, it was too late.

…because Rafe was already ripping the dress he bought you a week ago.

You thought it was a joke at first—some awful and insensitive scare tactic—until you were reaching up to pull at the hand around your throat. Your other hand slapped at the cabinets below in panic, and with a knee between your legs, it was impossible to close them. You knew that you were alone, but that fact didn’t stop you from crying out.

“You really expect me to just watch you throw yourself at my friends? Huh?”

The kitchen floor was cool against your back.

“…and laugh about it?”

He was fumbling between you both, and the room was spinning too much for you to understand why. You felt nauseous, and Rafe was hurting you, and you were cold. Not to mention that your head had started to hurt, but you also realized that everything was hurting.

“But you won’t even touch me.”

You felt like you’d been punched in the gut…only lower.

The pain of Rafe’s intrusion had you wailing, and the difference in your reactions couldn’t have been starker. It was hard to decipher, but you were sure that Rafe had moaned, a low drawn-out sigh as he sheathed himself inside of you. You could feel Rafe’s chest heaving against yours, could feel his heartbeat, could even hear his shaky breath.

You, on the other hand…

You couldn’t move. You felt frozen, restricted by something unseen, and when you tried to fight against it, you gasped. One shift had you wincing, and tears spilled over almost immediately. Your hands were pressing against his chest, now, desperately trying to push Rafe away, pushing off of you… out of you. It was no good, Rafe in a whole other world you weren’t privy too as he pulled back.

The feel had you wincing again, and you thought…

Well, you thought wrong.

Your relief was short-lived, and Rafe ignored everything you said as he started to thrust inside of you. His hips barely left yours, only enough to create friction, and you pushed your forearm against his neck, fighting to get him to stop. The pain wasn’t something you could wrap your head around, and you didn’t know if you were grateful or not that you were so drunk.

Every snap of Rafe’s hips made you cry harder, harsh sobs escaping and echoing in the otherwise silent kitchen. The sound of your bawling was only rivaled by the groans that escaped Rafe, your boyfriend pointedly ignoring your plight. One of his hands pushed against your face, forcing your head to the side…as if he didn’t want to see your face.

See the reality of what he was doing to you.

You thought at some point that the pain would go away, subside, but it felt like it only got worse with each thrust of his cock. Rafe was a man on a mission with only one objective in mind, and you were having the hardest time sorting your thoughts, realizing that in this moment you were a means to an end. An objective to be met through the use of your body.

…but you supposed it was more than just that.

Rafe was always entitled, a trait you found somewhat endearing much like towards an entitled child, but it hadn’t occurred to you that he’d feel entitled to you too. Before the night of your birthday, you knew the one thorn in your relationship, the one thing to actually put a crack in your relationship. Deep down somewhere, you expected Rafe to just leave you. After all, why wouldn’t you?

There was no universe in which you’d ever consider the possibility of the alternative.

The possibility that your boyfriend would just take what he wanted.

It didn’t last long—or maybe that was the alcohol in your system sparing you—but you couldn’t even be relieved. Even after Rafe pulled out, spent and satisfied and out of breath, the pain still remained. He was talking, and you didn’t know if he was talking to himself or you, but you paid it no mind. You could still feel him deep in your gut, and you rolled onto your side, curling into yourself.

You didn’t hear him the first time, but the second time Rafe told you to get up, he was forcing you to your feet. It hurt, and you could barely walk, and your confusion only grew. His hold was tight, and his tone sounded off, and you discovered why when headlights from the yard bled through the windows and into your line of sight.

He was rushing you to get upstairs, but you kept stumbling from both the pain and your blurry vision. Rafe didn’t let you go until you were just inside of his room, and as you collapsed to the floor, you could hear the door opening downstairs. You couldn’t stop crying even if you wanted to, and you hadn’t even realized Rafe had left—to give some half-baked excuse for the broken glass, no doubt—until he returned, suddenly kneeling at your side and begging you to stop crying.

You tried to push him away, but your movements were sluggish, weak, and you weren’t able to hold your own as he pulled you to your feet. Rafe stumbled into the bathroom with you, an arm around you and holding you up as he started the shower. You didn’t want him touching you, but you were physically unable to stop him. Every step hurt and made you stumble, every wave of your arm made you sway, and when the warm water ran over you both, there was nothing you could do as he washed away every remnant of his assault.

You were at Rafe’s side on his birthday, a small smile on your lips as he kept an arm around your waist. Rose thanked you for coming, not that she would expect anything different, and Wheezie asked if you would be staying over. The youngest Cameron had taken a liking to you—all of them did really—and she looked forward to having you around. You wanted to tell her no, but that wasn’t what you said. Instead, you said:

“Its’ Rafe’s birthday. Why wouldn’t I?”

The dark-haired girl beamed, adjusting her glasses, and her satisfaction was contagious. You knew that Rafe’s dynamic with his family was tricky at the best of times, and while you were sure they loved you just fine, something in you also wondered if they liked who Rafe was when he was around you. They were happy to host you for as long as they could.

They had no idea that it was only 24 hours earlier when Rafe tried to kill you.

Trying to leave Rafe resulted in the last thing you ever expected.

That night—and all the other nights that followed—haunted you. When you closed your eyes, you could only see Rafe at his lowest, holding you down and hurting you. You could only feel the pain of him forcing himself inside of you, and the pain that lingered when he was no longer there. The memory of bloody water swirling down the drain was a constant in your mind. As well as the memory of Rafe putting you in his bed, pulling his shirt down to your knees.

You should have left the night of your birthday, you should’ve gotten out then, and none of it would have ever happened, but you told yourself that late was better than never. You told yourself that you learned your lesson and you didn’t have to experience any more hurt to leave. Your eyes were open, and while you didn’t know if you’d ever go against Rafe legally for what he did, you did know that you were leaving him. You had to focus on each step at once. Trying to think so far ahead was enough to scare you.

Right now, you just needed to leave him.

His entire visage had been eerily calm as you broke up with him, voice shaking as you did. Even he hadn’t been able to deny how your relationship had deteriorated, become something unrecognizable and unhealthy. The morning after, you felt like you were existing outside of your body. You could see Rafe leaving apologetic kisses along your face as you stirred, but you couldn’t really feel it. You couldn’t feel his hands either, not until they found a home between your legs, at least.

Your protest was almost immediate, but Rafe had assured you it was fine…and you were scared.

So, you believed him.

Experiencing pain and pleasure at the same time was foreign to you. Rafe’s previous assault was not something to be ignored, but it felt odd to come around him and hiss from the pain of it at the same time. He was gentle, pressing his lips to yours and grazing his fingertips against your skin. His thrusts had been slow and careful, but the damage had been done, and every push of his hips brought out conflicting reactions.

That was how it always went.

Even after the pain and bruises were long gone, you couldn’t stop being afraid of Rafe. After all, he’d made it perfectly clear that he wouldn’t respect any kind of refusal from you. What kind of relationship was that? How could you thrive in that? Rafe may have been your first everything, but you weren’t naïve. He was an abusive asshole…and you were just too scared to do something about it.

Until last night.

You thought it would be easy. You even remembered internally laughing at yourself for how dramatic you’d made it in your mind. You thought… You thought that Rafe would move on, let you go. After all, he’d finally gotten what he wanted, and you had even exhaled when he nodded, a soft ‘okay’ soon to follow.

“Let me drive you home,” he’d said.

“Okay,” you’d replied.

You didn’t know why you thought it would be that easy.

Things with Rafe hadn’t been easy in months, and your attempted breakup was no different.

You realized that when the needle on the speedometer started to rapidly climb, the sound of Rafe’s revving engine loud in the truck. You asked him what was going on, where he was going, even though deep down you knew. You knew Rafe better than anyone probably, so you knew the answers to your questions before you even asked them.

“Rafe, stop,” you’d begged, reaching for his arm, but the blond simply fixed you with a wry smile.

“Why?” he’d wondered with a shrug. “So, you can leave me? Why would I want that?”

The houses and trees were flying past you outside the window, and you never felt more powerless than in the moment you were trapped in Rafe’s truck, unable to do a thing as he raced down the road towards the end he’d already picked out for the both of you. Any attempt to grab the wheel only resulted in Rafe jerking it—jerking the vehicle in the process—and scaring the shit out of you.

Retracting everything you’d said earlier only resulted in a harsh slap to the steering wheel, a dry laugh from Rafe soon to follow.

“You think I believe that load of shit? Huh?”

“Rafe-!”

“You just tried to break up with me not even thirty minutes ago,” he screamed.

He wasn’t wrong, and you still wanted to, but you were more afraid of dying than living a lie. You pleaded with your boyfriend, assuring him that you didn’t mean it. He only laughed again, and you got the feeling that Rafe was genuinely amused by you. By your tears, by your fear, and by your desperation.

Your heart was racing so fast it could be classified as painful. Your hands were sweating and constantly sliding against the door from where you tried to hold on to it. You pulled at his arm when he swerved into the other lane, swerving back just in time to miss an oncoming truck. Your stomach twisted painfully, bile rising in your throat, and at this point you couldn’t even see the road because of your tears.

“Rafe, please, please just talk to me,” you cried.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, blue eyes focused on the road with not a glance spared towards you, and you pressed your hand to your mouth. You looked out of the window again, unable to make out a thing, and when you reached for Rafe this time, he didn’t slap your hand away. He didn’t protest when you wrapped your arm around his waist, leaning into him and resting your hand against his chest.

You knew that your tears were staining his shirt, and you didn’t know if you stopped fighting as some unconscious tactic or simply because you were accepting what was impossible to escape. Rafe had to have been going a hundred miles an hour, this kind of speed something your brain could barely fathom. It was after some time when you felt his hand on your head and some time after that when you gradually felt the truck slowing.

You were still shaking long after it came to a stop in some wooded area, and the silence in the vehicle was loud. Rafe was just playing with your hair while you trembled against him, and when he stopped, it was only to trail his hand to your neck, gripping the back of it harshly as he forced you to sit up. You knew you looked as distraught as you felt, but Rafe…

Rafe looked calm and in control and nothing less.

His blue eyes ran over your face, drinking in your trembling lips and wet cheeks, lingering on your wide eyes the longest. You felt him rub his thumb along your skin, and when he hummed, it harshly pressed against the side of your neck. Suddenly, the corner of his pink lips curved just the slightest, and nothing about it was soothing.

“I wasn’t serious… You know that, right?”

You didn’t respond because he wasn’t kidding, and you both knew it. Rafe shifted, moving closer, and he brought his other hand up to touch your cheek, wiping your tears away. He studied your eyes, leaning in and grazing your lips.

“It was just…something I didn’t mean. You understand though. Doing things…saying things we don’t mean,” he slowly said to you, swiping his tongue between his lips. “Right…?”

The drop in his voice and the slight raise of his brows had you swallowing, and he was looking at you like he dared you to disagree. Fighting the urge to throw up, and with a shaky nod, you told Rafe what he wanted to hear.

“Right,” you whispered, and he chuckled.

“Alright,” he breathed with a blinding smile, pulling you into his side. “Kelce is throwing together some small thing at his house. I told him we might stop by…”

He trailed off, leaving room for a comment, and you only shrugged.

“That’s fine with me.”

Your voice was barely audible, but Rafe heard you fine, starting the truck and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I knew it would be.”

You’d been quiet the whole night, and you’d been quiet all day, only existing as silent support to Rafe on his birthday. If anyone noticed your reserved demeanor, no one commented on it. No one knew that as you wished Rafe a happy birthday, you were afraid of what could happen if you didn’t smile hard enough. When he kissed you, you could only think of how he’d kissed you after threatening to kill you both. Every time Rafe held your hand, it felt like a chain tethering you to him.

You dreaded the moment the party would thin out and everyone would start trickling from the home in pairs, heading back to the comfort of their own homes until just Rafe and his family remained. Eventually they would call it a night too, and you and Rafe would be alone, and you wouldn’t have a choice but to kiss him back when he eventually kissed you.

…and kiss you he did.

“You almost ruined my birthday, you know,” he mumbled into the kiss, making you pause for half a second.

Your only response was a quiet apology, and Rafe sighed into your mouth.

“That’s okay, baby,” the blond purred. “You know I’ll let you make it up to me.”

You were terrified of your boyfriend, and that was why you let him undress you. You let him wrap his arms around you and hold you close and press kisses to your skin. It was surreal to have sexy with someone you were afraid of, like you were being held hostage in your own body. If Rafe noticed—and you were sure that he did—he didn’t care.

He was content to lay you down and bury his face into the crook of your neck. In fact, you were sure Rafe liked your fear, liked that you were so scared of him. You thought it made it all the more fun for him to push his cock into you and feel you tremble in fear. You just knew there was something in Rafe that took great pleasure in making you momentarily sacrifice your fear of him for ecstasy instead.

He forced your head back, and your chest arched upwards into him. You gasped at the feel of his tongue on your skin, gliding over a hardened bud and tasting you. His hips came down slowly, like he was savoring the feel of you clinging to his cock. He sighed with every thrust, and you were never able to swallow down your own moans once Rafe started stroking that fire building within you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, nipping at your lip as he plunged his cock into you.

One of your legs were thrown over his shoulder, and the stretch burned in a way that wasn’t painful but wasn’t the best either. One of your hands was wrapping around his arm, trying to ground yourself as the other twisted into his sheets. You couldn’t stop gasping, clenching down on him every time Rafe hit that spot in you that made you lose your breath.

When he pushed your leg back more, you yelped in pain, but Rafe only hummed. His thrusts became rougher, and he only hummed again when you hissed. Your hand rested on his chest, pushing against him slightly—a nonverbal communication—but Rafe ignored it.

“Rafe…”

His hips were slapping against yours, and you couldn’t even pretend to enjoy it. Your other hand came up too, and he slapped it away, that same hand wrapped around your throat only moments later. You let out a choked cry, reaching up, but Rafe didn’t stop, continuing to fuck you and choke you.

“Look at me-look at me,” he quietly spat.

Too afraid not to, you did, your distressed gaze meeting his even one in the low lighting. He was so close, nose almost brushing against yours, and he looked between your eyes. His hand tightened around your neck, making your heart skip a beat, and his free hand covered your breast, squeezing it, and your free leg kicked at the sheets.

“I will kill you.”

Your nails pressed into the skin on his arm.

“Do you understand me? You try to leave me again…and I will kill you.”

Your heart was threatening to burst from your chest, and the ceiling behind Rafe’s face was starting to blur. The edges of your vision were growing faint, darkness creeping along the outer rim.

“I will dump your body on the side of the road, and I will get away with it.”

His words and cadence were slow, purposeful, and you knew that Rafe was entirely serious. Tears had long spilled over, and you couldn’t stop crying. Rafe shook you, your neck straining from the action, and the whole time he kept fucking you. His lower movements didn’t stop once, sliding into you over and over and stroking your walls all the while he threatened you.

He roughly let you go, and you coughed, touching your throat and shaking uncontrollably. When Rafe shifted, your leg falling to the bed, you pressed your hands to your face, sobbing into the palms of them. Rafe caged you in, thighs meeting yours with every thrust, and he didn’t seem to care at all at the sight of your distress. In fact, he kissed the back of your hands, humming with every stroke, and you could only think that if you had broken up with him on your birthday then he wouldn’t be threatening your life on his.

Ward Cameron may have felt a lot of things about Rafe, but he wasn’t going to let his only son go to jail.

You should have known that when you called the police, throat tight and phone call tearful as they asked what your emergency was. Telling the woman on the other side of the phone that you were hiding from Rafe Cameron inside of the bathroom wasn’t easy. Telling her that he had a gun was even harder, and something in you wondered if they would’ve been as urgent if they hadn’t heard his booming voice from the other side of the door as he threatened you.

You were sitting on the steps when a familiar car pulled into the driveway behind the cruiser, and you felt your face crumble. There was some relief as the older man went back and forth with Shoupe, but it dwindled the longer it went on. When Ward turned his head towards you, you dropped your gaze, eyes tracing the blood on your foot from where a few shards of glass had nicked it. You didn’t dare look up, not even when you heard his footsteps approaching despite the loud protests from the Sheriff.

When Ward said your name, it was cautious—gentle—and you shook your head.

“No.”

Your name rolled off of his tongue again, and you interrupted whatever he was going to say.

“No, no, no! No,” you cried.

You knew what he was going to say, where this was going, and you refused. You were tired, so tired, and each time you’d tried to do the right thing after your disastrous birthday, you got screwed over. Each time, Rafe was one step ahead or using that charming smile and devious words to convince you it would never happen again. Every slap, every shove, every hand around your throat was proof of all the lies that left his lips.

You were sure that the only truth Rafe had ever told was when he said he’d kill you.

It was silent between you two for some time, and you heard Ward sigh. You bit your lip, worrying it so much you started to taste blood, and you sniffed, wiping your face as you refused to look at the man. When he took another step towards you, you flinched, and only then did you look up to see the way Ward’s face fell.

You watched him press his lips together, only a thin line, now.

“I want you to tell me what happened.”

You scoffed.

“You know what happened. I’m sure Shoupe told you,” you forced out, and Ward exhaled through his nose.

He briefly glanced over his shoulder, looking at his son in the back of the cop car.

“I want to hear it from you. I want to know how a couple’s quarrel turned into-.”

“A couple’s quarrel?” you repeated in disbelief, tears falling as you exhaled. “He threw a vase at me. He put a gun in my mouth.”

You couldn’t tell how Ward took your words, but he did put his hands on his hips.

“Now, Y/N…you know it’s a crime to lie to the police.”

His response didn’t surprise you, and you nodded, your laugh humorless. Ward knew you were telling the truth, he knew just how unhinged Rafe could be, but he didn’t want him in jail. He couldn’t have the Cameron name tarnished by the arrest of his only son on domestic violence charges. Ward would rather handle this in private, away from prying eyes…and it disgusted you.

“I’m not lying, and you know I’m not lying,” you choked out.

“Why would Rafe do this? Right out of the blue?”

You were on your feet, now, sneering at the other man.

“It’s not out of the blue. Rafe has been treating me like shit for months!”

“…and this is the first we’re hearing of it…?”

The eldest Cameron tilted his head to the side, studying you, and you felt your breath leave you. You watched him touch his chest, gaze soft as he seemed to plead with you.

“Now, I’m not saying that’s not true…but you know that’s what they’re going to ask you. They’re going to ask you why you didn’t tell anyone…and they’re going to note how convenient this all is.”

You knew that, and you looked away, hands falling at your side.

“Rafe says you dropped a vase, and it started an argument.”

“He’s lying-.”

“…and anyone can say you’re the liar.”

You pressed your hands to your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears fell. Even through your lids, you could see the change in colors from the flash of the squad car, and when you opened your eyes again, the procession of red and blue lit the yard.

“That gun is legally his…and no one saw him do what you claim he did.”

“Why are you protecting him?” you loudly wondered, looking at the man in disbelief.

You’d eaten dinner with his family, even watched his daughter some nights, and he’d smiled in your face on numerous occasions, treating you like his own. Now, though…when push came to shove…Ward Cameron was showing you that you were not one of his own. Rafe was his own…and you were now a threat.

He took a step towards you, and you reached out to grip the rail to keep yourself from falling.

“I am just telling you what will happen if you continue with this,” he slowly started, and you crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to look at him. “They will take Rafe away, and I will pay his bail, and he’ll come home with me. There were no witnesses, and everything is pure speculation, a simple case of he said she said.”

You knew that he was right, and you felt yourself start to shake.

“…and in that scenario, I can’t help you.”

You knew what he was saying. You knew that he was talking about protecting you from more than just scrutiny and the law—he was also talking about protecting you from Rafe. Your lips parted, and you shakily exhaled. You felt like you were going to collapse, legs unsteady, and when you looked over…your eyes finally met a familiar blue pair.

You were positive that Rafe hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since they’d put handcuffs on him. If looks could kill, you were sure that you’d be six feet under, and you frantically blinked. No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, and your stomach churned at the memory of his hand on the back of your neck. His other held the gun, angrily forcing the weapon into your mouth as he sneered at you.

Something about returning the smile from some pogue at The Wreck—blond and rowdy and kind of familiar.

You recalled that his name was JJ.

The fight had started almost as soon as you got inside, and you shuddered at the flare of pain in your arm, recalling the way Rafe had shoved you into the wall. You’d only slid down just in time to miss the flying vase. Just thinking about it was enough to paralyze you with fear…and then you thought about what would happen should you choose to have a legal battle with Rafe and his family.

…and lose.

You let out a choked sob, looking away, and letting your face fall into your hands. You collapsed back down onto the steps, Ward’s voice reaching you.

“You tell Shoupe this was all one big misunderstanding…and I can do so much more for you. …but I can’t help you if you go through with this.”

You couldn’t stop crying, because you were trapped…and you knew it. Your parents had money too, just as much as the Cameron’s, but that only evened the playing field, it gave you no advantage, and you were back to square one of your word vs Rafe’s. You knew he would be far more forgiving if you just…did what Ward said. You knew that if you went through with this and lost, Rafe would wring your neck.

“I won’t let my son go to jail, Y/N. One way or another…”

You knew he was telling the truth, the conviction in his tone matching the certainty in your chest.

“…but at least this way, I can help you.”

Your knees bounced as you wrapped your arms around yourself, your tearful gaze focused on the perfectly manicured grass. You curled in on yourself, head falling, and your shoulders shook from your sobs.

“He scares me,” you struggled to say, and Ward placated you.

“I know…I know he does, but you have to let me help you.”

You pulled the ends of your sleeves over your hands, wiping your face. The night was still lit up with red and blue, and you closed your eyes, stomach sinking. It took everything in you to give Ward a shaky nod, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Ward waved the other man over.

You felt like you were betraying yourself, arm still aching and throat still raw from all of your screaming. A lot of your trembling was still from what had happened hours ago, and like that day in his truck…and the night of his party…you’d really thought you were going to die. You couldn’t go through that again, but Ward said that he would protect you because you knew Rafe better than anyone, and you knew that if you tried to press charges against Rafe and didn’t succeed…

He would kill you.

“Y/N wants to talk to you.”

You glanced up at the sound of your name, holding Ward’s gaze for a few seconds before finally meeting Shoupe’s.

“I want… I don’t-I don’t wanna press charges.”

Your words tumbled out, and for a moment, you were sure that Shoupe hadn’t heard you properly. You came to realize that he heard you fine, and his confusion wasn’t from a lack of understanding. You watched him rest his hands on his hips, looking between you and Ward.

“Now, Y/N…” he started, seemingly trying to organize his thoughts. “I heard that phone call. I heard what you said and I heard him yelling.”

“It was just a regular argument, Shoupe,” you whispered with a shrug. “It was stupid. A stupid vase…”

“That he threw…”

The pause was heavy, and you glanced away.

“That I dropped.”

You shook your head when he said your name, and you licked your lips, gaze pleading as they met his again.

“Please, just let him go. He didn’t do anything to me. It was a stupid fight that I exaggerated because…I was angry and things got out of hand, and this just went way beyond what I intended, so…”

The other man didn’t look like he believed you, at all, and you watched him glance at Ward—who hadn’t said a thing—before looking back to you. He sighed, fixing you with a look you couldn’t name.

“Are you sure…?”

Your only response was a nod, unsure if you could lie any more without breaking down. With an aggravated sigh—aggravation at you or at Ward, you didn’t know—Shoupe signaled to his deputy to let Rafe go. Ward was pulled to the side as the two men had a hushed and heated conversation, going back and forth, while your gaze rested on Rafe.

You felt like you were doing the worst thing possible as you watched them guide him out of the backseat. He looked far from happy as they uncuffed him, and just like all night, his gaze refused to leave you. The flashing red and blue bathed him, blue eyes glinting almost dangerously, and you pressed your lips together while you watched him rub his now free wrists.

The other men were distracted as Rafe slowly made his way over, and you didn’t dare move. You were too scared to, and as much as you wanted to pull your eyes away, you couldn’t find the strength to. It was just hours ago that you’d stared into that face as he yelled at you for something as harmless as a smile. Only hours ago, he was pushing you around and threatening you.

…and now those same hands were reaching for you and pulling you to your feet.

You cried for so many reasons as Rafe wrapped his arms around you, rocking you from side to side and shushing you in what was meant to be a soothing voice. They were tight, and you cried harder, apologies slipping past your lips before you realized what you were doing. Rafe was always quick to forgive if you were quick to apologize.

“I know,” you heard and felt him murmur into your hair.

“Please, please don’t…”

You both knew what you were begging for, and he gently shushed you.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out again, repeating it as many times as you thought you should, hoping and praying that it was enough. “You have to know that…”

Your words died in the air at the sound of his voice.

“I should be angry with you…but I understand,” he softly told you. “You were scared, and you should’ve been.”

You sniffed, staring at the red and blue grass.

“I went too far, and you were right to be scared.”

Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head, lingering there, telling you the words that brought you temporary relief.

“I forgive you.”

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waitimcomingtoo · 1 month

Text

The Script

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: you and Peter break up once you find out his secret and he falls apart

Masterlist

“We broke up.”

The words fell out of Peter’s mouth as he pulled his mask from his tear stained face. Ned turned around in his desk chair and pulled his earbuds out of his ears.

“What? No way.” He laughed dismissively at the assumed joke until he noticed the red rim around Peter’s eyes.

“It’s true. She broke up with me. She doesn’t want to be with me anymore.” Peter repeated through a childlike cry.

“But I thought you had a date tonight? Did something happen?”

10 minutes earlier

“Peter?”

Peter froze in the alleyway and stopped looking for his backpack. He turned around slowly and saw you standing there under a harsh street light with his backpack in your arms. The webs he had shot on it to keep it secured against the wall were still hanging off.

“It’s you? You’re the Spiderman?” You asked in a voice barely above a whisper. You were looking at him with a mixture of betrayal and confusion as you clutched his backpack like you were a child with a teddy bear. Peter still had his mask on so he stayed dead silent.

“Say something.” You seethed, a newfound anger in your voice and eyes. Peter gulped and nodded his head, knowing there was no point in lying.

“I am.” He said, making your face crumble when you heard his voice. You held the backpack tighter and stared at him as your face crumbled.

“What are you doing out here? Did you follow me?” Peter asked you.

“No. You never showed up to our date. I called you when I was walking home. Alone. I heard your phone ringing in this alley way. It was in your backpack. Here’s your stupid fucking backpack.” You said through clenched teeth and threw the backpack at him. He caught it with ease and dropped it to the floor.

“There have been Spiderman sightings on Youtube for years. Years. You never told me?” You asked and surveyed every inch of his suit as you saw it up close for the first time.

“Nobody knows.” He said quickly. “I mean, May knows. And Ned. And a handful of people I work with. But that’s it, I swear. I don’t expect you to understand this all right now but please believe that I have to keep my identity a secret for my safety. And your safety too.”

“You don’t expect me to understand?” You laughed and tilted your head to the side as if to ask if he was serious.

“I just mean that I know this is a lot to process right now.”

“It’s not a lot. You’re the Spiderman and you never thought that was something I should know. I had to find out on accident after getting stood up for the hundredth time. But, sure, I’m glad Ned knows.” You nodded and looked up so your tears wouldn’t fall.

“I would’ve have told you eventually. I just needed more time. If people knew who I was, everything would change. I wouldn’t be able to help people there way I do now. I couldn’t tell anyone.”

“Since when am I just “people”and “anyone” to you?” You shook your head. “How could you keep this from me for this long? We’ve been dating for over a year. And I’ve known you since middle school. How much time did you need?“

“I don’t know. It just never felt like the right moment to say it. I wanted to tell you so many times.”

“You just never did.” You shrugged. Peter recognized that the situation was quickly escalating and you were not reacting the way he always imagined you would.

“I don’t understand why you’re getting upset right now.” Peter said calmly. “I thought you’d be happy to understand why I have to miss so many dates and flake all the time.”

“You thought I’d be happy to learn that you’ve been lying to me for our entire relationship?” You laughed again as tears fell down your face.

“I wasn’t lying.” He defended. “I just couldn’t tell you the truth yet.”

“Yet. Right.” You smiled tightly. “We’re over a year in but haven’t gotten to the point where you can be honest with me. I see.”

“I am honest with you. This is the only thing I’ve ever lied to you about. I promise.” He said and tried to step closer to you. You immediately stepped back and hugged yourself.

“I thought you loved me.” You said as you stared at the ground.

“I do love you. How can you even question that?” He laughed in shock. You looked up at him and he saw that your anger had turned to sadness.

“Peter, you stood me up countless times. Tonight included. You let me cry myself to sleep for so many nights. All those times I walked home alone after already getting to the restaurant or watched movie by myself through tears because you couldn’t bother to show up. You knew I was feeling insecure lately about the distance between us but you still decided to say nothing to cue me in as to why it was happening. Do you know how painful it is to feel someone you love pulling away and have them tell you your suspicions are all unfounded? How long would you have let me feel that way if I hadn’t caught you tonight?”

“I…I don’t know. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how this was affecting you.” Peter said quietly.

“Of course you didn’t.”

“Look, I know this is really upsetting now, but I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” Peter said and put his hands on his shoulders. You pushed him off of you and took a step back. Peter gulped and wondered how he was going to make it out of this conversation alive because he had never seen you reject him like this.

“You always say that. And you never do. I have a long list of things I’m still waiting for you to make up for. Why should I believe this time is different?” You asked him and folded your arms.

“It will be different. I promise. I’ll fix this. Stop walking away from me.” Peter pleaded and reached out to touch your face.

“It’ll be different. You promise. You say the same thing every time. And yet, I always end up crying over you. I shouldn’t have to cry over a relationship I’m still in.” You said as you pushed his hand away from you. An anxiety built in Peter’s stomach as he was used to you telling him it was fine every time he had disappointed you in the past. This time was clearly different and he didn’t know what to do. You turned and started to walk away from him so he quickly followed after.

“Where are you going?”

“Home, Peter.” You said without stopping.

“No. You can’t leave now. We have to talk about this. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. You can take it all out on me. Just don’t go, please.” Peter begged as he stepped in front of you to stop you.

“I don’t want to cry anymore, Peter. I’m done. This is done.” You cried and pushed past him to keep walking. Peter froze when he heard you use that word and felt his blood run cold.

“What? Done? Done with what?”

“With you. With us. With all of it. I’m not doing this anymore. I’m breaking up with you.” You said as you turned around to look at him. Peter felt his stomach drop and could barely hear you over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

“What? We can’t just break up. I love you.” He protested as he got that feeling in his nose that told him he was about to cry.

“That’s not good enough for me.” You shook your head.

“What?”

“You can say you love me as much as you want but until you prove that, I can’t be with you. I won’t be with you. I’m done.” You repeated and turned to walk away again. Peter quickly ran after you and dropped down to his knees in front of you.

“No, no. No. Please. Don’t leave me. Please. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, baby. Just give me one more chance.” He begged as he took both your hands. You looked down at him for a long time as you thought things he wished he could hear.

“Please.” He whispered, barely audible. You looked up again but it was no use to stop your tears from falling.

“Say something.” He pleaded and squeezed your hands.

“I’m saying goodbye.” You said after a beat of silence. Peter made the mistake of letting his hopes build up during that silence. He stayed on his knees as you pulled your hands out of his and walked away. His tears fell rapidly down his face and it wasn’t long before his heartache turned into misplaced anger. He got off his knees and turned in your direction.

“You’re not being fair.” He called down the street. You stopped in your tracks and turned around.

“Excuse me?”

“This isn’t fair. I didn’t ask to be bitten. I didn’t ask for this life and all this responsibility. But it happened to me and I’ll never know why but I do know that I have to do something about it. I wish I could be a normal guy my age and take my girlfriend on dates, but I can’t. I have a duty to this city to protect it. I hate that it’s true but sometimes, I have to chose helping someone in need over spending time with you. You’re acting like I went out of my way to neglect you on purpose.”

“I understand that you didn’t choose this, but you could have told me all of that from the start. Then maybe I would’ve been more sympathetic. But right now, all I can think about is every little lie you told me to keep me in the dark. Oh, I’m sick. Oh, I have homework. Oh, I have to help my boss with something. Tonight, you told me you weren’t gonna make it to our date because your aunt needed help with something. You didn’t even care enough to lie about what she needed help with. But, yet, at least I got a lie tonight. Sometimes you just don’t show up.”

“I had to lie, okay? Do you have any idea how much danger I’d be in if you let it slip who I really was?”

“So is it that you couldn’t tell anyone or you couldn’t trust me not to tell?” You asked as you walked back up to him.

“You know how you are. You tell your friends everything.” He said coldly.

“Are you seriously saying this is my fault?” You raised your eyebrows.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault.” He sighed. “I’m just saying that you’re being kind of selfish right now.“

“I’m being selfish?”

“Yes, you are. It’s selfish to expect me to prioritize you over the safety of-“

“Of who?” You cut him off. “Of literally all of New York? Of the world? Where does your domain of responsibility end? Who do you prioritize me over? Where do I rank? When do I matter to you?”

“That’s not fair.” Was all he could say because he didn’t know the answer to your questions.

“You know what else isn’t fair? Making me have to be the only bad guy here. Because the funny thing is that I would have been proud of you. I would have been honored to be the girlfriend of someone who risked their life and gave their time to protect people they didn’t even know. But you never gave me the opportunity to feel that way. You chose to lie to me. You chose this over me every single time. You never chose me. That’s why we’re breaking up. I would have understood if you needed to prioritize saving lives over dates with me but I cannot understand you lying to my face every single day for years. I spent birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, and countless nights staring at the empty seat I saved for you that you never showed up to. So no, I don’t think I’m being selfish right now. I don’t think it was selfish of me to share my boyfriend with all of New York.”

Peter was quiet again as he processed what you had said. There was no way to undo what he had done and it was clear apologizing wasn’t cutting it this time.

“I don’t know how to be without you. You’re my best friend. None of this matters without you.” Peter said in a small voice. You sighed and felt sympathetic towards him for just a moment.

“Peter, you were and always will be my first love. That’s always going to mean something to me. But now I have to look back at our relationship and never know what was real and what was a lie. If you’re not going to choose me, then I will. I’m done waiting around for you. I’m done.”

“Please, don’t give up on me. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He croaked out.

“But you did.”

“I know. I know I did. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll never stop trying to make things right.” He pleaded and tried to reach for you again.

“Don’t bother, Peter. You need to stay away from me for a while.” You told him in a calm voice.

“What? How long?” He blinked in disbelief.

“I don’t know. A long time.”

“But can we at least be friends? Like we were before?” He asked desperately.

“We can’t be friends.” You shook your head and turned to leave again.

“What? Not even friends?” His voice cracked as he called after you.

“I can’t be your friend. I can’t be in any kind of relationship with you. That’s what I’m trying to say here. I don’t trust you.”

“Ever?” He squeaked out. “We can’t ever find our back to each other?”

You didn’t answer him as you walked home alone. Peter stood on the sidewalk for a long time, unsure of what to do with himself now. He wanted to run after you and get you to see his side, but he knew that would just make things worse. You had said what you needed to say and he had to respect that as much as it pained him to see you walk away. Instead of going after you, he swung to Ned’s house and climbed through his window.

“We broke up.” The words fell out of Peter’s mouth as he pulled his mask from his tear stained face.

Peter let a month pass before he tried to speak to you again. Minus a few texts and voicemails left on particularly miserable nights, he had left you alone for the most part. But after counting down the 31 painfully long and quiet days without you, he went up to you in the hallway on campus one day.

“Hey.” He greeted you with an anxious smile. You stopped walking and looked behind you to make sure you were the one he was talking to.

“Hi.” You said with knit eyebrows of confusion.

“How are you? How have you been?”

“I’m fine.” You said flatly.

“Did you just come from class? Was it okay?”

“Um, I really don’t want to be mean here but why are you talking to me?” You asked him. Peter blinked in surprise at your response and lost all the confidence he had built up.

“Oh, um. I don’t know. We haven’t talked into a month. I was giving you space.”

“Why’d you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Giving me space.” You replied. “I still don’t want to talk to you.”

“But it’s been a month.” He pointed out and realized how silly he sounded as it came out of his mouth.

“Okay? We ended a year long relationship and years of friendship. We can’t just go back to normal after that.”

“But…but we’re different.” He stammered. “We were different. I thought, I don’t know, maybe…”

“Maybe what? I’ll just forget about the shit you put me through?” You asked when he trailed off. He shut his mouth and went quiet and you couldn’t help but feel bad at the deer in headlights look he had in his eyes.

“Peter, I told you.” You sighed. “We can’t be friends.”

“I know we can’t go right back to how we were but we don’t have to pretend the other doesn’t even exist.” He insisted.

“No, Peter, you’re not understanding. I won’t be your friend. I won’t even fake niceties with you. I’m not trying to be mean but I don’t want you in my life in any capacity. I’m not changing my mind on this.”

“We can’t just never speak again. Our story can’t end like this.” He said quietly and you could tell he was on the verge of tearing up.

“It wasn’t supposed to. But it is. So please, just leave me alone.” You asked calmly so that he wouldn’t break down.

“I can’t. This is killing me. You and I not being together doesn’t make sense to me. Please. I’ll do anything to make this right. I still love you and-“

“Peter. Please. We’re at school.” You cut him off and uncomfortably looked around for who was listening.

“You’re telling me you don’t feel anything for me anymore? Because I don’t believe that. I know you. I know you can’t shake things that easily.”

“I didn’t think so either. But I’ve never been hurt like this.”

“Then can we please go somewhere and talk? I’ll listen this time. I swear.” Peter pleaded and stepped forward to touch your arm. You stared at him for a minute and looked sympathetic so he thought you might say yes.

“I can’t.” You said finally. “I have class. I have to go.”

“Oh, okay.” He nodded in disappointment. “Maybe some other time then. Just please know how sorry I am for hurting you.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing, Peter.” You sighed. “I’ve moved on. I think you should too.”

“You’ve moved on? Like, with another guy?” Peter blinked a few times to stop the tears he felt threatening to spill out at this new bit of information.

“Not that it would be any of your business if I did, but no.” You amswered. “I just mean that I’d been mourning our relationship before it even ended so I accepted our breakup a long time ago. I’ve moved on now.”

“Were you really that unhappy?” Peter asked in a small voice.

“Well, yeah, Peter.” You admitted. “I loved you when you were around but it felt awful the nights you were gone. I felt completely alone a lot of the time. And even when you were with me, I was never sure you wanted to be there.”

“I always wanted to be with you.” He promised. “If you ever believe something I say again, just know how badly I wished I could have been there with you.”

You chewed your bottom lip and stared into his eyes as you tried to decide if you should believe him or not. You swore never to believe another word out of his mouth but his tired eyes seemed so genuine that you knew there must be truth to his words. But even if he was telling the truth, that didn’t matter to you anymore.

“I can’t talk about this right now. I have class.”You repeated. “Get some sleep tonight, okay? You don’t look so good.”

Another month went by and Peter was starting to feel used to not speaking to you. The thought of it beginning to feel normal to not have you in his life scared him so he called you up one night and listened to your voicemail with tears in his eyes. By month three, he pretty much just felt numb. He was falling to pieces very quickly and you were the only one who could save him. He’d seen you around on campus and sometimes get a pity wave if he stared too long. Every so often, he’d follow you home but keep his distance on rooftops. He swore you knew he was there as sometimes you’d stop and look up. He made no effort to hide but you made no effort to seek him out.

Peter was on his nightly patrol one night when his police radio started going crazy. He heard the words “bus crash” and “pile up” being reported over and over so he picked up his radio to listen for where it was. Once he had a location, he swung to the bridge and landed in the middle of the scene. Peter saw one of the large city buses on its side and twenty some cars piled up behind it. Police officers were already on the scene and helping people but Peters senses were telling him danger was still present.

“How can I help?” Peter asked an officer.

“Usually I don’t like seeing you at crime scenes but you might be able to help us. A bus is about to over the side of the bridge and our extraction guys are having a hard time getting onto the bridge with all the traffic.”

“Which bus?” Peter asked and looked around.

“It’s over there. Bus Q8.” The officer pointed out. There was a bus hanging over the side of the bridge with its nose pointed towards the water. Peter could see people inside trying to stay calm so they didn’t shake the bus.

“Q8? My girlfriend takes that bus.” Peter’s mouth went dry as his head shot back to the bus teetering over the edge of the bridge.

“Then you better hurry.” The officer called after Peter. The bus was on its side so Peter opened up the emergency hatch on the top and climbed inside. He calmed down the people on the bus one by one and assured them that he was there to get them to safety. As he spoke to the passengers, he kept an eye out for you but didn’t see you in any of the seats. You normally took the bus home at this time and Peter found it hard to believe this was the one day you didn’t.

“Was there a girl on this bus with a purple backpack? She was wearing brown converse and a jean jacket today. Did any see her?” He asked the passengers.

“Yeah. She was sitting over there.” Someone answered and pointed to the back of the bus. Peter went to your seat but only found your backpack.

“This is her backpack. Where is she?” He asked and felt his fear rise quickly. He looked around and saw that the back door of the bus was opened. He pushed the door open a little more and the bus wobbled at his movement.

“Did she leave?” Peter asked with his panic evident in his voice.

“She was helping a few people get out of the back until this little boy ran out. She told the mom she’d go find him. I haven’t seen her since.” Someone else informed him.

“Okay. Thank you. I’m gonna get you guys to safety.” Peter promised. He helped people out of the back of the bus one by one after securing the bus to the bridge with his webs. Once he was sure everyone was out safely, he began to search for you. He had an anxiety like nothing he had ever felt as he searched through the crowds for your face. As he looked around the scene, he heard a woman talking to a police officer about a girl falling over into the water. Peter felt his hair stand up and approached them.

“Excuse me? Was the girl who fell into the water wearing brown converse?” He asked and hoped the answer was no.

“I think so.” The woman replied but couldn’t be sure.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He asked.

“This girl helped me get my son after he ran off the bus. He had climbed into an empty car nearby to hide so she climbed in to get him. But the car fell into the water before she could get out herself.” The woman replied as she clutched her son to her chest.

“Did…did the car go under?” Peter asked with a dry mouth. The woman looked pained at his question and he already knew her answer.

“When I looked over the side, I saw it sink under the water. I’m so sorry. There was nothing I could do. Did you know her?” The woman asked and placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. The police officer started asking Peter questions but he couldn’t hear anything. He felt like he was about to pass out and stumbled backwards. He took off running towards the side of the bridge and looked over into the water. The rocky river water looked especially treacherous that night, sending a sick feeling to Peter’s stomach. He wasted no time and dove into the water in search of you. He swam down and eventually found a car in the water but when he pulled the doors open, there was no sign of you. Peter quickly swam up to gasp for air before going back down to look again. He did this five times before he exhausted himself. He dragged himself onto the little patch of grass at the base of the bridge and laid on the ground. He pulled his mask off and let out a guttural sob as he covered his face with his hands. He knew he had to pull himself up and help the people on the bridge but his entire body felt like lead. He rubbed the saltwater out of his eyes and took another minute to recover. As he rolled over to get himself up, he made eye contact with you.

“Peter?” You asked in a shaky voice. You were wet from the river and holding yourself as you slowly walked toward him.

“You’re okay?” Peter asked as he got up off the ground. You were shivering from the cold and he wished desperately that he had something he could cover you with.

“Yeah. I managed to get out through the trunk of the car. I was on the other side of the platform when I heard you crying. Did you go looking for me?” You asked when you realized he was wet too. Peter was still in stunned silence at the sight of you okay after accepting that you had likely drowned.

“You’re okay.” He said and started to get all chocked up again. Peter took a step forward and opened his arms to hug you hit stopped himself. He stepped back and hugged himself instead.

“What are you doing?” You wondered.

“Giving you space.” He said seriously. It made you laugh for some reason which he didn’t understand but he didn’t question it.

“Shut up.” You said when your laughter stopped.

“I didn’t say anything.” Peter said as you threw your arms around him. He stumbled back in surprise but then hugged you back tightly. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and slipped his hands into your hair to hold you closer. It felt like muscle memory to hold you again and the chill in his bones was gone in seconds.

“That was really scary. When the car fell into the water. I couldn’t breathe.” You choked out and he held you tighter.

“I know. Shhh. I know.” He whispered in your ear as you struggled to catch your breath. You pulled away just a little so that you could look at him.

“I thought of you.” You admitted. “When I was trying to find my way back to the surface. I was so tired and my lungs felt like they were going to explode but I just kept thinking that I needed to see you again. That’s what kept me going.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. I should’ve been here.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” You smiled sadly and touched his face. Peter returned the sad smile, the kind the made his eyes crinkle. But as he stared into your eyes, he couldn’t help but think of the things you had said the night you broke up.

“I should’ve been there for you a lot more than I ever had been.” He began. “You didn’t deserve to spend all those nights alone wondering where I was. I should’ve been a better boyfriend to you. I should have just told you the truth. I don’t even know who I was protecting in the end. I told myself it was you but that’s not true because you still got hurt and I was the one who hurt you. And I’m so sorry for that. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry for all of it.”

“Peter, you don’t have to do this right now.” You assured him.

“I do. Because I don’t know when you’re gonna talk to me again and I have so much I have to tell you. So I need you to know that I’m sorry for all the times you got dressed up for me and just never showed. I’m sorry I let you think the distance between us was all in your head even though I felt it too. I’m sorry for all the calls and texts after we broke up because I could never stay away from you. And for following you home everyday because you looking up when you thought to was around was the closest to an encounter that we had most days. And I’m sorry that I clearly didn’t love you hard enough if you were able to move on so quickly. I guess the absence of my love wasn’t much worse than the presence of it. Or maybe the presence of it already felt like an absence. I know I was barely there in the end. I know you deserve better. And I hope you get better. You were always the best part of me and now I’m just the loser who got really lucky that a cool girl liked him and found a way to fuck it all up.”

“You didn’t fuck it all up.” You smiled sadly. “We had a lot of good times too. We were happy.”

“Not enough for you to stay. Which I don’t blame you for. I wish it didn’t take losing you to realize how much I needed to change but it did. So I don’t blame you for being fine without me. You’ll always be fine. You’re better off now without me in your life and I’m just falling to pieces. I guess when a heart breaks, it doesn’t break even.”

You started at him for a moment as your eyebrows came together. You let out a short laugh and expected him to do the same but he just looked confused.

“That’s that song.” You said finally.

“What?”Peter frowned. “What song? I’m pouring my heart out here.”

“I’m falling to pieces, yeah. I’m falling to piece, yeah. Cause when a heartbreak no it don’t break even.” You sang quietly and Peters eyes went up in surprise.

“Oh shit. It is that song.” Peter realized. “Damn it. I thought I made that up. I’ve been listening to The Script a lot lately. Especially the one that’s like “cause if one day you wake up and find that you’re missing me and your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be.” I’ve been blasting that one so much that May had to take my speakers away. So then I started scream-singing it and she threatened to kick me out.”

“It’s so like you to accidentally quote a popular song and think you made it up yourself.” You laughed softly. “You said I so confidently that I genuinely believe for a second that those were your own words. But no. It was just the musical stylings of the popular early 2000s band The Script.”

“The Script are the only people that understand me right now.” Peter mumbled, making you laugh again.

“You laugh but they make the best music for yearning.” Peter continued just to make you laugh again. He smiled at the sight of you laughing at something he had said after so many months of silence between you. When your laughter died down, you looked at him for a moment the way that you used to.

“I don’t want you to yearn anymore.” You told him and gave his hand a squeeze. Peter understood what you were getting at and nodded his head.

“Do you think we could try again?” He asked in a soft voice. You smiled a little and took a step closer to him to rest your hands on his chest.

“I think so.” You answered.

“I swear, everything will be different this time.” He insisted. “I won’t leave you lonely anymore. And we can take it at any pace you need. Just tell me what I can do to earn back your trust.”

“I don’t know. I think maybe I can trust a guy who dives into the Hudson River for me.” You said with a coy smile as you nodded towards the water.

“I really hate to do this right now but that’s actually the East River of-“

“I don’t care.” You laughed and pulled him into a kiss to shut him up.

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