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#'we can't say anything anymore' and yet you speak too much
weird-is-life · 3 days
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Shouldn't I want you?
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Summary: Spencer lets you break up with him, thinking he is not enough for you
Words: 2.1k
Warnings: angst, happy ending, arguments, mentions of ice-cream, lots of tears, swear words, use of y/n and pet names, mentions of Spencer being in prison
----------------------------------------------------
Spencer has been acting weird lately. And you don't know why. He's been so distant. Making different excuses on why he couldn't make it to the dates.
He's also started texting you less and less. And the calls just seem forced from your side, like he doesn't even want to speak with you while away on cases.
It's honestly breaking your heart, and maybe that's Spencer's plan. To just break your heart so you would break up with him.
It's making you so anxious that you wait everyday for the text from him that will say 'It's over. I'm breaking up with you.' But it doesn't come, and you don't know what to think of it. You don't even know why would he want to break up. You don't think that you've done anything wrong, and you are very certain that Spencer hasn't done anything wrong either. This whole thing is just so unusual.
On the one hand, Spencer is almost ghosting you, but on the other hand he doesn't want to break up? You are so confused about the whole situation.
You are crying over the break-up that hasn't even happened yet, watching your tv with a big bowl of ice cream in your lap. Spencer's supposed to come home today from a case, but you know he's not going to come to your apartment. He hasn't done that in the last few weeks, not since he's started being so distant.
So you sit in a pit of your tears, cheesy rom-coms and a bucket of ice cream. Suddenly, there's a knock on your door, and looking at the clock you know exactly who it is.
You panic, you didn't expect him to come. You quickly wipe your tears away, and hide the ice cream in the freezer. You know that you look puffy anyways as you open the door with a big sigh and a fake smile.
Spencer, of course, sees right through it.
"Hi- what's wrong?" Spencer immediately asks with a frown. He pushes you gently out of the doorway, and steps inside too as he closes the door.
"N-nothing," you lie, trying to force a smile on your face, "what...what are you doing here?"
A quick flash of hurt and confusion passes over Spencer's face, "I wanted to see you."
You suck in a shaky breath,"oh."
"Oh?" Spencer asks, baffled. "Seriously sweetheart, what's wrong?"
"Don't-Don't call me that," you whisper, eyes on the ground.
"What?" Spencer's eyes go wide, "I shouldn't call you sweetheart?"
You sigh, and look up at Spencer. He looks so lost by what you mean, and for a split of a second you think good, let him be confused. You've been confused for the last few weeks because of him. But then you remember that it's Spencer, still very much the Spencer you love.
"Yes, you shouldn't," you sniffle a little, "because it's only hurting me more."
"I-" Spencer starts.
"Spencer, just let me finish. I think that we both know that you don't want to be in a relationship with me anymore. So please Spencer, let's just not do this anymore. I can't keep going on like this, it's-it's just too much. It hurts too much," you say, your cheeks wet with tears yet again.
Spencer stays quiet, it's actually one of the rare times that he doesn't know what to say, and it just breaks your heart even more.
"Y-you won't even say anything? No reason why?" your voice breaks in the middle of the sentence. But looking at Spencer's teary eyes and completely shut mouth, you know, you two are done.
"I-It's over, Spencer. Please just go, you can come take your things some other day," you don't even wait for him to say anything. You go open the door and look anywhere, but him while he slowly leaves.
You don't have the courage to look at him. You hear him sniffle, but don't look. You can't see his broken face, it would be even worse than it already is.
Spencer leaves, and you slam the door shut behind him. It feels like your heart is being cut open by millions of tiny glass pieces as soon as the door closes.
You barely manage to walk towards the couch before you break down. Sobs violently shaking with your body.
-
A few days go by, and it's only when you don't pick up your phone on like the 20th try does Penelope march into your apartment.
You reluctantly open the door after she knocks, and knocks, insisting she's not leaving until you open the door.
"Hi," you greet her, and you immediately notice her slightly shocked face at the sight of you. And you get it. You haven't slept properly for the last few days, and the almost constant tears can't help either.
"Oh my gosh, honey, come here," Penelope instantly pulls you into an embrace, and you melt into it like a puddle.
She squeezes you tightly until you're ready to let go. "Pen, what...what are you doing here? Did Spencer send you?"
"Don't even say his name. He's in big, big trouble," she says in her own angry way. A small smile appears on your face when she says it.
"I can't believe he's done this. He can be such an idiot sometimes even if he really is a genius," you don't argue with that, but you don't want to talk about Spencer either. He's been on your mind enough as it is right now.
"Can we...can we not talk about it? I just want to get over it, and move on as soon as possible, "you sigh. You let Penelope in, and you want to make her go sit down to the living room while you make the tea, but she insists on staying in the kitchen with you.
"Believe me, honey, I wouldn't want to talk about Spencer if it wasn't important," she starts, and your mind immediately goes to the worst possible scenario.
Seeing your wide, worried eyes she adds, "he's okay. He's just stupid, that's all."
"Yeah," you agree quietly, even if you know that it's not true. Spencer maybe used to be clueless about things like relationships, but that has changed. He was never clueless in your relationship.
"Oh sweetheart, " Penelope rubs your shoulder in comfort, "I could beat him up for making you so sad."
Her very serious tone makes you let out a small chuckle. You and her both know that she wouldn't even hurt a fly let alone Spencer, her dear friend.
"Thanks, Penny, but it's okay, I'm okay. Spencer didn't want to be with me anymore, and i-i made my peace with that or-or at least i will eventually."
"But that's just it. That's what I came here to tell you. Spencer loves you, and he just let dumb people with dumb opinions get to his head," you almost burn yourself with the warm water for the tea when you hear her words.
"What do you mean?" you quizz. You forget about the tea, and turn to her.
"He'd heard some people talk about you and him. Some colleagues saw you two together somewhere, and started gossiping. He heard them say that you're too good for him with him being in prison and all-"
"What? That's just ridiculous," you exclaim, you've never heard such a bullshit before.
Of course, you know that Spencer was in prison, but you also know he was innocent. You knew Spencer even before he went to prison, and maybe he did change a bit, but he was still the same Spencer. The Spencer you've always been in love with.
"Exactly, I told him the same, but he wouldn't listen, " she looks sympathetically at you, "I think that Spencer just loves you so much that he's willing to let you go for better or worse."
You are stunned. You stand there absolutely baffled, and Penelope just looks at you with understanding. It takes you good few minutes to finally say something.
"You knew about this?" you question as you head towards the door with Penelope on your heels.
"No, I found out yesterday otherwise I would have told you sooner," you quickly put on your shoes as you listen to her.
"I know you would. Thank you for telling me this, Pen. You're the best," you give her a tight hug.
"He's at home right now," she tells you, you appreciatively smile at her, and basically run to your car with Spencer on your mind.
-
When Spencer opens his door, you instantly push yourself inside. You don't give him even a second to react, protest or say anything.
"Spencer Reid!" you start angrily. "I can't fucking believe you. You let us break up over some stupid gossip? And you didn't even tell me?" You say, hurt.
"It's not stupid, it's true-" Spencer starts calmly, a complete contrast to you. But on the inside he feels like he's going to pass out. It was already hard for him without seeing you, but now it feels like hundred times worse.
"Like hell it is!" you argue. "Spencer of course you're enough for me. I don't care what anyone says. It's not even true anyways. I don't care that you've been in prison, i don't care about any of it."
"But it is true. I'm no good for you. You can do so much better, sweetheart. Like look at me," he gestures towards himself, " I'm such a mess, my life is always messy. You don't deserve this kind of life, you deserve so so much better. You don't deserve to be waiting late at night for me to come home, wondering if i even come home. I can't let you have that kind of life. I'm not worth it."
Finally, Spencer lets the tears go down his cheeks freely. He knows what he is giving up by breaking up with you. He'd planned his whole life with you by his side. But it's better this way. Well that's at least what he is telling himself anyway.
"Don't you get it, Spencer?" you laugh dryly from the frustration, "I don't want better. I don't want anyone else. I just want you. I want you, Spence."
You sniffle slightly, and look at Spencer with hopeless eyes begging him to understand.
"You shouldn't, sweetheart, you shouldn't want me," Spencer tells you helplessly, running his hands through his hair.
You take a brave step towards him.
"Why shouldn't I?" you start. "Shouldn't I want the sweetest, the kindest person I know in my life? Shouldn't I want to be with the person that makes me smile, and makes my heart go fast? Shouldn't I want to be with somebody I completely trust? Shouldn't I want my best friend in my life forever? Shouldn't I want somebody who I feel safe with? Shouldn't I be with somebody I love the most?"
"So Spencer you tell me? Shouldn't i? Shouldn't i want you?" your cheeks are wet from the flowing tears, too.
Spencer shakes his head. You're impossible. How could he ever think that you'd just get over him without questioning why. He should have known better than that.
Spencer takes the final step that's between you two, and softly wipes away the tears from your puffy cheeks.
"I just want what's best for you," he whispers with a broken voice. Looking right into your watery eyes.
"Then let me have you!" You point at his chest with a sniffle. You see Spencer's face soften, like he finally understands.
Spencer's hands move from your cheeks to your hips, and he pulls you closer to him. "A-are you sure?"
"Spencer, you're unbelievable, " you say, vexed, "there's no one else for me Spence. No one."
Your words are the final thing for Spencer to breakdown, to allow himself to be with you. He pulls you towards him, hugging you oh so tightly. He hides his face into the space between your neck and shoulder. You feel the wetness of his tears run down your skin.
"There's no one else for me, too," he whispers into your shoulder. You hum in agreement, not ready to say anything yet.
After a few minutes you pull away, caressing Spencer's cheek you smile at him. "I love you," you mumble, "Please don't ever let people get to your head like this. At least not without telling me, yeah?"
"Yeah," Spencer says in hushed voice, leaning into your gentle touch. "I love you, thank you for not letting me be an idiot."
You both chuckle, sniffling, and it finally feels like it's all going to be okay. Like your worlds won't be ending after all.
You and Spencer go snuggle on his couch, content to be near each other again after the few days apart, and even if you know that there's still a conversation to be held tomorrow, you feel happy.
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ginkovskij · 4 months
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merry christmas eve to me spending time with the family that "we are not fascist, but!"
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endlessthxxghts · 6 months
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Animals
DBF!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈2.5k
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Summary: Joel randomly calls you and tells you to meet him outside. Your parents are home though, and you can't necessarily tell them that Joel, your father's best friend, is asking you to go with him somewhere. Do you give a little white lie and leave, or do you wait until it's safer?
Warnings: Age gap (unspecified, but legal). Reader still lives with parents but she is an adult. Nosy and controlling ass parents to their child who's a grown ass adult. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Inappropriate car activities while driving. Handjob. Blowjob. Pulling into a parking lot in broad daylight to do some stuff... P in V unprotected. ✨Save a horse, ride a cowboy (in a parking lot)✨ Reader has bit of a size kink. Cum swallowing... Is there a term for kissing with semen in both y'all's mouths??? (Don't look at me...). Possessive kink. Spanking (just once though). Getting caught... Exhibitionism...😵‍💫 I think that’s as much as I can say without spoiling anything, so! After you read it, let me know if there’s anything that I should put in here that I missed out on!
A/N: One of my all-time favorite songs is Animals by Nickelback. As of lately, though, with all my Joel brain rot, I can't NOT think DBF!Joel every time I play it... so... here we are... I recommend listening before or when you read, just to really add to the experience hehehe.😈 @javierpena-inatacvest I hope you’re hungry!😋 Enjoy, y’all!!!
MASTERLIST
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You’re beside me on the seat,
Got your hand between my knees,
And you control how fast we go by just how hard you wanna squeeze.
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“Two minutes, get your ass outside.”
Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. You blindly brought your phone up to your ear with your parents in the room with you, not taking the time to check the caller ID. 
“I-” you start as you head to the bathroom, not wanting your parents to overhear anything. “I can’t just leave right now, and especially not with you.” He scoffs over the phone. “I was at the dining table with my parents, jackass.” 
“But you’re not anymore, right?” 
“No.”
“And they didn’t question you?”
“Didn’t give them the chance to.”
“Just get out here. I’ll drive off quick, no one will see,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Joel,” you say, your tone betraying your logical responses.
“Now,” he says before ending the call. 
Your heart racing, you peer at yourself in the mirror, making sure you look semi-presentable even though you know Joel’s intentions are going to ruin your appearance anyway. You leave the bathroom, heading for the front door as fast as possible. 
“Who called ya?” your dad asked. 
“Going somewhere?” your mother followed.
“Just a friend. And I’m gonna step out real quick, I’ll be back in a bit,” you say nonchalantly, not trying to raise any suspicion. Your mother raises her brow at you. 
“I really hope you both find the value in respecting people’s privacy,” you say, stepping out the front door as you speak, erasing the chances of any further commentary. That may have come across more harsh than you would have liked, but even into adulthood, the three of you have gotten into huge fights for your whereabouts. It’s not like you left them in the dark all the time or kept them up late waiting for you to get home. You were living under their roof, so you still respected their time. Yet, it was never enough. And you were too wound up thinking about Joel to bite your tongue.
He parked a house away, and you’re practically running at the speed of light to get into the passenger side so he can pull away before your parents decide to make it to the window to gain any more information they can. 
As soon as you get into the passenger seat, though, Joel has different plans as he immediately puts one hand around your waist and the other on the thigh closest to him. You’re barely able to shut the door before he pulls you into the middle of the bench seat of his truck, your body flushed against his. You squeak out at his quickness, his strength. He smirks at it. 
He lets his hand on your thigh drag up your body and situate itself on your jaw, turning your face to his and kissing you deeply, all tongue and teeth and thickened spit due to how fucking turned on both of you are. 
You pull away, breathless, “Baby, you need to drive off, now.”
“Shit, sorry,” he says, releasing his hold on you. “Stop distractin’ me,” he playfully scolds, a smile full of trouble across his face as he pulls out of the neighborhood. 
You scoff at him now, perplexed at his audacity to tell you that you’re distracting him. It makes an idea pop in your head. You’ll show him a distraction. 
You shift your body to face him. Your hand lands on his thigh, running up and down lightly, getting closer to his hardened bulge that’s been begging for your attention since he dialed your number. 
His grip on the wheel tightens, his jaw twitching, “Darlin’,” he grits. “What are you doin’?”
“Oh, nothing,” you say as you lean in closer, licking a stripe up his neck, your mouth at his ear. “Just,” you cup his erection, “being a distraction.”
His hips push up into your hand. He is painfully hard right now, his entire neck and face a bright red from your ministrations. You unzip his jeans, pulling it and his underwear down to let his cock free. You moan at the sight.
“I’m warnin’ you, girl.”
“Want me to stop?” 
Silence. 
He moves his arm closest to you to sprawl along the back of the bench seat, giving you complete access to him as he attempts to drive you two to God knows where. 
You scoot closer in, and let out a content giggle. You place a wet kiss at his pulse point, whispering in his ear, “Thought so, baby.”
You bring your hand up to your mouth and let your spit pool in your hand, bringing it back down to his length, spreading it all over before you wrap your fingers around him.
“Joel, baby, fuck-” you moan in his ear as you slowly begin pumping him, “look how fucking big you are in my hands,” you whine. “Can barely wrap my hand around you,” you say as you nip at his neck again. 
Joel begs his eyes to stay on the road, knowing that if he were to look down right now, he’d lose every ounce of his control — on both his self restraint and his damn truck. But, God damn, the slapping sound of your hand on his spit-soaked cock as you whine and writhe at his side has him desperate. He glances down for barely a millisecond, and he can’t help the groan that leaves his throat, his head threatening to throw itself back in utter pleasure. 
“Am I doing good, baby?” You ask him. “A good distraction?” You add, your lips ghosting his jaw with each syllable. 
“F-fuckin H-hell, baby,” he stutters, hips softly meeting every push and pull of your hand. “G-gonna make me c-crash this f-fuckin’ car.” 
With his admission, your grip gets a little tighter, pumps get a little faster, and you're giving extra attention to the head of his cock. He’s pulsing beneath you, breathing erratic, and you can’t stop the urge to lean down and take him into your mouth. 
On instinct, Joel’s foot falls a little heavier on the gas, causing him to drive a little roughly over a bump on the road. His dick pushes deeper into your mouth, causing the tip to hit at the back of your throat. 
The spit that forms from your gag reflex gives you an easier ability to devour him just as he likes—warm, wet, and sloppy. Your head begins to bob faster, your hand still supporting the base of him as you periodically cup him below, and he’s an absolute mess. 
You pull away for one moment in a choked breath, your hand now jacking him off, and you look up at him through your eyelashes. 
“I know you’re close, baby, I feel it,” you gasp out as your hand squeezes a little more, at the pressure you know makes him break. “Need you to cum, baby, need you to fill my fucking throat,” and with that, your mouth is back on him. 
“Oh, f-fu-…” Joel nearly growls out, immediately pulling into some random parking lot, thankful the nearest slot was empty. The second the car is in park, he’s shooting his load down your throat, his hand flying to the back of your head to keep you stuffed full of him. 
The way that you’re so turned on right now just by giving him the sloppiest head he has ever experienced has you absolutely dripping—an absolute moaning mess, vibrating him into overstimulation. He pulls you off, and you can’t help the blissed out smirk that forms on your face as you swallow almost everything he gave you, residue dripping down your chin. 
He brings your face to his, and his tongue collects up his own spend, feeding it back to you in a desperate, sloppy kiss—if you can even call it that. 
As your lips tangle in a nasty embrace, he’s quick to rip your bottoms off as he settles you on his lap. The feel on your pussy of his spent cock slowly getting erect again has you moaning into his mouth, your hips grinding down onto him, arousal coating him, urging him back to his full, hard length. 
“Sh-shit,” falls from your mouth as his trails further down, leaving kisses down your throat. Joel brings his hand down to pump himself a few more times, ensuring he’s at full attention. Your hips lift up on instinct, Joel notching his tip at your soaking entrance. 
You lower yourself onto him, going in with ease with how wet both you and him are, the stretch of him still providing that delicious burn. No matter how prepared or lubed up either of you are, that burn will never go away. You never want it to. It flips a certain switch of lust within you—an animalistic need—knowing just how fucking big he is, knowing that it’s all for you. 
Usually when you’re on top, he’s extra sensitive, and you wait for him to give the signal for you to move. That need is there, though, and you can’t wait. As soon as your hips are flushed with his, you’re immediately lifting back up and dropping down on him again, maintaining a brutal pace that has you both uttering incoherent filth. 
You place your hands on either side of his head, gripping the back of his seat to give you better momentum as you bounce on him. His hands are gripping at the globes of your ass, guiding your movements, fingertip-shaped bruises threatening to form. “Fuck, sweet girl,” he lets out, “just like that, baby.” His face is nuzzled in between your breasts, nipping and licking at them with every bounce of your thrusts. 
His words cause your pussy to flutter, a possessive feeling gliding down your spine. Your one hand releases the chair and grasps at the curls on the base of his neck. “T-tell me,” you stutter, “t-tell me who my p-pussy belongs to,” you get out, licking into his mouth before you let him answer. 
His hips begin to meet your movements, his pubic bone providing the cherry on top to unravel you. His lips are against yours, breaths intertwining into the thick air, windows beginning to fog. “Mine,” Joel growls. Your hips speed up, the truck shaking and squeaking with every movement. “This pussy is mine. You,” he breathes, “are fuckin’ mine,” a stinging pain fills your senses before your brain registers the slap to your ass. 
Your thighs begin to shake and your body goes rigid, your climax teetering against the edge. 
“Joel,” you cry out. 
“I’ve got you, pretty girl, let go for me,” he coos. And just as he’s about to hold you down to fuck up into you, a car parks right next to you, door immediately slamming as the person gets out and urgently peers into the driver’s side window. 
Both of you are too close to stop your movements, the person’s face outside the car falling into pure horror and shock at what’s going on inside. 
“Oh!” you scream out, both of you using all your strength to stop but unable to.
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“That’s my dad outside the car!”
Oh please, the keys, they’re not in the ignition,
Must have wound up on the floor while we were switching our positions. 
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Before you know it, you’re pulsing around his cock as he fills up another one of your holes with thick, hot ropes of his cum. 
Neither of you realize just when your father scrambled back into his car and drove away, but the idea of getting caught turned both of you on more than you’d ever admit. 
You don’t get off of him just yet, both of you sitting in each other’s sweaty embrace as you let your breathing and heart rates return to normal. 
“So…” he says, rubbing circles on the small of your back. 
You look up at him, chin perched on his chest. “So,” you giggle. 
“What the fuck do we do?” he asks, wordlessly referring to the mishap with your father.
Not as worried, you mess with him before giving a serious answer. “Mmm,” you say as you place a light kiss to his chest, “I was thinking you give me your boxers since you ripped the only bottoms I have on me, and you deal with the jeans chafing your balls until you get back home.”
His eyes go wide, completely forgetting that he did that, and silently cursing himself for doing something so stupid. Luckily he decided to actually wear underwear today.
“Oh, fuck, baby, I’m so sorry, I just-” he pauses for a moment. “You fuckin’ distracted me!” he says before he completely busts out in laughter, a deep howl filling the car. You smack his chest, your laughter following suit. 
“You motherfucker,” you say, sitting up a little straighter, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. 
He smiles at you, pure warmth and adoration in his eyes. He clears his throat, his face a little more serious. “I, uh, I was actually talkin’ about your old man, though.”
“I know,” you say, completely unbothered.
“Are you not worried?”
You shrug your shoulders. “No.”
“You don’t think he’s gonna try and wring my neck out?”
“Baby,” you laugh, “no, he’s not gonna wring your neck out. I wouldn’t let him, anyway.”
“Oh, gee. Thanks,” he deadpans.
“I promise you, I’ve got it taken care of.”
His fingers grasp your chin, pulling you in for another kiss, a little longer than the last. “I trust you.”
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As soon as you enter the front door, you see both your parents at the dining table again. Though, this time around, instead of controlling and angry, they look pale and embarrassed. 
You stroll to the dining table, not caring to sit down, and you get straight to the point. They can’t even look you in the eye. 
“So? Did we learn our lesson about-”
“Yes,” your parents say in unison, “please just,” your mother continues as your dad starts to retreat anywhere else but here. “Let’s not talk about it.”
You can’t help the laugh that bubbles in your chest. 
“You’re a grown woman,” your mother says, rigidly. “It’s really not our business what you do anymore.” You peer at your father. He throws a thumbs up at your mother’s words, eyes still trained on everything else but you. 
“Glad ya guys came to your senses,” you say, offering a smug smile. You can’t help it. If catching you having the steamiest sex in an older man’s car is what causes them to stop breathing down your neck, then so be it. You’d have intentionally done something like this ages ago if that’s what it took. 
You start heading to your room when your dad finally speaks. Still unable to look you in the eyes. “Tell Joel I don’t give a fuck what he does—what y’all do—just,” he pauses to take a breath. “Tell him not to address any of this with me. Ever.”
“Deal.”
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No, no matter where we go,
‘Cause everybody knows,
We’re just a couple animals. 
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End Note: Well. That killed me. The amount of laps I took writing this...🥴 Thank you all so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, etc, — all your support means the absolute world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Thank you so so so much. There are genuinely not enough words to express my gratitude. As always feedback for my stories (at a technical sense) is also super super helpful whether it is constructive or positive! Anything helps me to be the best writer that I can be. All my love! Xo
Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @akah565 @pedrostories
EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!
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sorcerersseestars · 5 months
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LIMERENCE (part I)
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Gojo Satoru x gn!reader
"I can't stop loving you, no matter how hard I try."
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summary: Your long-time friend stirs feelings inside you that you never realized existed. Of course they bubble up in your chest while he’s in the midst of ignoring you and discovering his own possible romance. Your mutual friend thinks she has it all figured out—or does she?
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pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader
fandom: jujutsu kaisen
genre: hanahaki sickness au, angst, hurt/comfort
warnings: mentions of feeling sick, being stonewalled kinda, usage of the word (Y/N) bc Gojo is too fed up for nicknames (in reality idk what else to use 😶), Gojo being an ass (common theme in my fics oops)
word count: 3.6k
a/n: This is the first part to my hanahaki au! I’ve had this in my drafts for the longest time, but never committed to writing it all out until now. This first bit is kinda slow and maybe confusing BUT hopefully I’ll be able to clear it up next chapter. Not proof read very thoroughly; will probably regret later 🫥
part ii
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“DON’T YOU THINK you could be a bit nicer to me?” You try, clasping your hands together as you look up at him with an odd smile—a cross between apologetic and playful. You’re joking, or at least half joking. It’s too difficult to be serious with Gojo; his habit of masking emotion with jest must be rubbing off on you.
Only one corner of his mouth raises. “Good one, (Y/N)-chan. As if I didn’t use to pay your bills.”
He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, and he walks away from you without a single glance. You frown and lightly jog a few steps to catch up to him.
“Ah, and I’m forever thankful for that!” You say, cringing at how overly peppy your tone is. “But that’s not exactly what I meant.”
“Hmm,” Is all he says. His hands are in his pockets, but he doesn’t carry himself with as much ease as usual—his posture is closed off, angular and tense.
“What I meant was–” You prompt your own answer, as he doesn’t make any move to. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. I know you’ve been really busy lately, so I don’t blame you, but I think we should go out and do something. Could help relieve some work stress too, don’t you think so?”
“Maybe,” He says, the word short yet effective in its delivery. The word was sharp in his mouth, clear annoyance shaping his tongue enough for the word to have a bite to it.
You wince. He never used to be like this. Gojo has been in a state of perpetual mirth—and one could argue levity—for the entirety of your friendship, never taking anything seriously and always looking for opportunities to poke fun at you to half-jokingly glorify himself. His expression has always been infectiously positive—never molded into anything hard or serious.
But, lately, everything you thought you knew about Gojo Satoru has faded away into your memories. He never seeks out your presence anymore, which is polar opposite from your high school days, when he would follow you around and pester you until you’d hang out with him. You actually used to get annoyed at this behavior, but you’re sorely missing it now.
You feel like you know nothing about him these days, only hearing tidbits here and there from your mutual friend Shoko. It stings to know that he obviously talks to her, and quite often at that, seeing she always has new details to spill every other day.
It doesn’t make sense to you: him and Shoko were never particularly close, definitely not nearly as close as you and Gojo were. In fact, she thought of him as particularly annoying in high school, and often swore to you that she would cut all contact with him once they graduated.
Back then, you had rolled your eyes at her antics, never believing that anybody could cut Gojo out of their life, seeing as he simply wouldn’t let them. But how else could you describe what he seems to be doing to you?
You bite your lip nervously. “Satoru? Is there something wrong?”
“Not particularly,” He says with a forced smile that’s screaming for you to shut up. You pretend like it’s not the most disingenuous smile you’ve ever seen smeared on his face.
“Are you sure?” You probe. “I mean…what’s been going on with you these days? We haven’t seen each other in forever, and you don’t seem yourself.”
“Are you sure?”
His lips are quirked up, as they perpetually are, but it’s different this time. It’s mocking. A mocking smirk that’s telling you to face reality. Do you really know him anymore?
You pause in your steps, studying his expression. You can’t see his eyes, but you wish you could. He’s hard to read with that blindfold concealing those powerful eyes of his, but it never used to be a problem. It hurts that you’re now struggling to gauge him when your emotions used to feel like one.
Evidently, you can’t answer his question. Not that he seems to care.
“I’ve really got to get going. Students to teach, curses to kill, all that,” He announces, tone low and apathetic. Bored. “See ya.”
Your breath flutters in your throat as you try to bid him goodbye. You choke on your words and only end up tentatively raising a hand. Before you can wave, his form disappears. A gust of wind greets you in lieu of a proper goodbye.
You stay where you are for a few shocked moments, not even registering the hot tears that leak from the eyes he avoided.
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You wander aimlessly around campus for a while, the whole interaction replaying in your head several times over. His “Are you sure?” needles its way into your brain even when you push it away, the words hitting where it hurts every time.
Your feet find themselves taking you to an empty break room – ah, this is the one that has your favorite flavor of tea. You turn the kettle on, then eagerly dig through the tea stash. You file through the individual packets quickly and thoroughly, but to no avail. It’s gone.
With a sigh, you grab a random tea bag and throw it into your mug. Frustrated, you roughly begin pouring the now-boiled water into the mug, but it doesn’t seem that was a good idea. Your hand slips for just a split second, but a sizable splash of boiling water still manages to singe your non-dominant hand. A stream of expletives leaves your mouth, and you instantly cradle your hand to your heart.
More tears appear. At least you have an excuse this time—it fucking hurts.
You trudge to the clinic, feeling quite silly, but also seeking some much-needed relief. And you’re not exactly imagining painkillers or an ice pack—no, there’s something else. Someone else.
You hesitantly knock on the door. You feel stupid, but you really have to see her.
You crack a smile at the creak of the door. Your friend and co-worker Shoko strides out with an air of confidence you wish you held.
“What happened?” She asks calmly, eyes lazily taking in your form.
“Spilled some water from the kettle,” You say lamely. “It hurts.”
That doesn’t really constitute a visit to one of the only reverse-cursed technique users in the school, and you know it. So does she.
“Mmhm,” She raises her eyebrows. “Well, come on in.”
You shuffle in a little sheepishly, not able to meet Shoko’s eyes. Now that you’re here, you start to feel unsure about your own motive—do you really want to discuss this? Won’t it just be embarrassing more than anything else?
You stall a little in your steps as the negative thoughts invade your head. You’re startled to attention by a poke to your side—when you look up, Shoko’s playful smirk fills your vision.
“Come on over to the sink and we’ll put that under some cool running water,” She says, gesturing to your reddened arm.
You cock your head, looking between her and the sink skeptically, “No ice?”
She shakes her head, sticking her tongue out at you a bit, “Nope! Running water for burns.”
You hold up your hands in defeat, smiling, “Whatever Doctor Shoko says.”
“And I do,” She says cheekily. “So get under that water!”
“Aye-aye,” You say with a salute.
She groans, “Ugh. You guys are so annoyingly similar. Hang on a sec, I gotta grab something.”
She turns away before she can see the way your expression drops. The smile is stolen from your face, leaving behind saddened eyes and a slight frown. There’s only one possible person she could be talking about.
You sigh and turn on the faucet—your disheartened sigh morphs into one of great relief as the cold water soothes your burn.
“That better?” Shoko asks upon her return.
You nod, a small smile coming back, “Yeah, thanks Shoko.”
“Is there something else wrong?” She asks, then shakes her head. “No, scratch that. What’s actually wrong?”
You take a deep breath. How are you going to broach this subject? You wait several moments, pondering your exact next words.
“Do you think Gojo is okay?” You finally ask your long-time friend, words coming out almost cautiously.
She eyes you funnily, “Why are you asking me? As if he doesn’t chase you around the school to blab on about himself.”
You smile, but it’s tainted by bitterness.
“Shoko…Gojo hasn’t talked to me for two months,” You admit quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
She stops.
“What?”
You hate hearing the confusion in her voice. You hate the pity that soon fills her eyes.
“He seriously hasn’t,” You affirm, sighing. “I don’t know what I did, or if I did anything, or…or what. I just, I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Have you tried talking to him about it?”
You sigh. “Of course I have, but he didn’t seem to take my concerns seriously. Or consider them at all. It just seemed like he wanted me to shut up and leave him alone.”
Shoko looks at you curiously, lips quirking as if she has something to say, but no words come out. Is she holding something back?
You take a deep breath, willing the horrible emotion that squeezes your throat away. You look out the window to distract yourself, watching the branches of a sakura sapling swaying in the wind. It looks alone and lost, battered by the relentless wind.
“What’s he been like recently with you?” You finally ask, your gaze still on the tree.
“Normal,” Shoko says. “Annoying as ever. Noisy as ever.”
A cluster of pink petals is ripped from a branch, swirling hopelessly to the ground. When they settle on the ground, you look back to your friend.
“He’s really the same?” You ask weakly.
“Unfortunately,” She says wryly. “Besides, why do you care? We’ve both been trying to get him off our backs since waaay long ago. Sounds like a blessing in disguise.”
“Ah, that’s true,” You admit with a weak chuckle, trying to ignore the way your heart throbs painfully. “But he’s also our friend.”
“Since when? More like a thorn in my side. Maybe he finally got the message,” Shoko smirks. “You should give me instructions for that. I’d have a lot better quality of life, you know.”
You know she’s just joking around with you, but she’s truly just rubbing salt in your wound. Not very ethical for a doctor, even if unintentional.
“Yeah,” You laugh, but it’s an empty sound. “Well, I guess I’ll get going then. Hopefully your next patient gives you an easier time.”
Shoko jokes, “Yeah, this has been my toughest job all week. You fiend.”
Your head is filled with so many questions, all of them growing louder as you walk away from your friend. Your friend who you thought would sympathize with you, but only ended up making you feel worse in the end is acting suspicious. It’s not like you’ve ever wanted to actually cut ties with Gojo, even when he used to pull pranks on you in high school. You craved for a strong friendship with him throughout all his shenanigans.
Why is Shoko acting like you hate Gojo, and what isn’t she telling you?
Before you reach the door, you decide you need to know. You stop abruptly in your tracks.
“Ieiri, you’re not telling me something,” You say softly, not looking back. “Why?”
Shoko sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You don’t miss anything, do you?”
You say nothing. The door in front of you is tempting—it’s your way out of knowing the truth. Do you really want to know?
You wait tensely for a few seconds, the silence causing nerves to bubble up in your stomach. But when Shoko begins to speak, they go don’t go away.
“He hasn’t really been acting strange around me, but he’s constantly on his phone. Like always. Whenever he comes to chat, he immediately tunes me out and starts texting or loudly takes a call,” She snorts, huffing out an exasperated sigh. “I thought he was just bored and trying to make me feel disrespected as a sort of cruel joke, but I think it’s something else. I think…I think Gojo is interested in someone.”
Your head whips around, disbelief clear in your features. Interested in someone?
“Maybe that’s why he’s been acting weird. I always thought he was crazy for you, so it didn’t cross my mind until now.”
“Crazy for me?” You immediately echo back, voice hollow and confused.
Shoko shakes her head at you, “C’mon, you can’t be that oblivious. He always followed you around like a lost puppy in high school. He never said anything to me about it, but I really thought he would confess any day for years.”
“He did that to everyone…” You shake your head. “You say yourself he bugged you so much.”
She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, it was different.”
Your heart pounds in your chest. Your vision becomes foggy at the edges, reality fizzling out.
“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” You ask. “It’s not like that matters.”
You try to appear uncaring, yet it was a fight to get those words out.
“You’re a sensitive person. ‘Didn’t know how you’d react since Gojo always seemed to chase after your attention, exclusively. But it’s not like it was the other way around—should have known it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not. Guess he’s just growing up.”
“Yeah,” You agree faintly, voice devoid of emotion. Reality is slipping through your numb fingers, the information turning your world into a nightmare. You should have opened the door and ran when you had the chance.
“It’s not,” You say with a saccharine smile, one so sickly sweet that Shoko gets chills. That’s not your usual smile—not one that Shoko has ever seen you wear. “Of course it’s not.”
When you turn on your heel and rush out of her infirmary, Shoko reaches out a hand and her lips part to call after you. It’s uncharacteristic for her—the cold doctor is rarely sentimental or emotionally affected, but she saw something ghastly in that smile of yours.
The slam of the door answers her call. The truth, now imparted, comes to bite her in the ass.
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It’s been a few days. You’ve been moping around the school, around your students—trying to cope with the information that you don’t even know is true. You see him across campus sometimes; he’s so easily spotted with his translucent hair and tall frame. Every time, he’s facing away from you, and your eyes fall on the back of his head. Your chest always tightens and you end up turning away, too.
You have ignored the feelings stirring in your chest, not willing to admit something that clearly isn’t reciprocated. It has been working, you suppose, since you haven’t cracked under the mental weight of possibly being in lo—
No, you can’t even think that.
Everything has been as okay as it can. It’s not until you attempt to visit Shoko again to try sort out your feelings, however, that things take a turn for the worse.
Your hand is raised as you prepare to knock on the infirmary door, but you hesitate once you hear muffled voices.
“I don’t know…I didn’t expect it at all.”
That’s Gojo’s voice. That low but self-assured tone is undeniably his.
“Expect what?” Shoko asks, sounding bored.
His reply is so soft that it passes by as just a hiss of air, so quiet that you physically startle at Shoko’s loud reaction.
“No! What? I can’t believe that!” She shouts, laughter quickly following her exclamation.
You shouldn’t be listening—you hadn’t planned to eavesdrop on your two best friends, but for some reason your ear seeks out the wall, as if magnetized.
The next three words uttered still your heart.
“Utahime kissed me,” Gojo admits quietly.
You feel like you can’t breathe. Utahime, who has always despised Gojo even beyond Shoko’s extent. Utahime, who once cried into your chest after Gojo was harsh with her at an exchange event. Utahime, who always persisted that you and Gojo were into each other during high school.
Shoko’s unbelieving chuckle cuts through your thoughts.
Shoko laughs, “Oh, yeah, okay, as if I’d ever believe that.”
There’s silence. Your heart drops at the lack of response—no teasing refute, no playful faux playboy attitude.
Shoko absorbs his unusual silence, finally interpreting his words for what they are.
She gasps loudly, spluttering, “Oh my God, you’re being serious. What?! There’s no way…”
Gojo’s voice is even and deep. “I didn’t lie. She just did it out of nowhere. I didn’t even know how to react, to be honest.”
“So you just stood there?” Shoko snorts, trying to keep up her usual sarcastic persona. “God, you’re insufferable all the way around.”
“I kissed her back,” He breathes out, voice almost weak.
Another long moment of silence ensues. You hold your breath, terrified that your panicked pants will alert them of your presence.
Shoko recovers quickly this time.
“Still insufferable,” She sighs, and you can imagine her shaking her head. “So what now? You like her or something? This is so random.”
“I…I don’t know,” He admits quietly. “I never thought she’d do that, it took me by surprise. I…I think I liked it?”
Your heart shatters. You clutch a hand to your mouth, gagging yourself, forcing back the pained gasp that’s threatening to leave your lips.
“Oh, is that so?” Shoko says drily, but the usual edge to her voice is absent. You can only imagine her expression: contorted with pity and pain, desperately trying to maintain her poker face.
“Yeah,” Gojo reaffirms. “It was nice.”
There’s silence for a few seconds as Shoko takes it all in. Then, “Is she who you’ve always been calling and texting when I’m talking to you? You’re an ass for that, by the way.”
Gojo exhales out a sardonic sniff, “You’re spot on.”
Why are you still listening? You should leave. You shouldn’t be hearing this. Pain blooms in your chest, as if thorns became lodged between your ribs.
“What about (Y/N)?”
You freeze, eyes bulging out of your head.
Gojo sighs, sounding annoyed, “What do you mean?”
“I’m not dumb, Satoru. There was something going on during high school and frankly in the past few years as well. Are you going to deny it?”
He scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shoko. It was never like that.”
You feel like you’re going to be sick. You shouldn’t—there’s no possible way you’re actually in love with Gojo Satoru, is there?
Fuck. The thought you’ve been trying to avoid all this time has finally firmly inserted itself into your head.
You take off swiftly and immediately, and your footfalls are as light as you can possibly manage. If either of them knew you were here, you wouldn’t be able to handle the shame.
Gojo and Shoko are none the wiser to the immoral action that took place just beyond the door—so when Shoko is ready to clock out and opens the door, the presence of a school ID on the ground is nearly missed. She feels something strange crunch underneath her foot and steps away and glances at the foreign object.
You left in such a hurry that your ID flopped out of your pocket. It lays on the ground, your smiling face staring up at Shoko, who looks on in horror. She immediately knows that you heard everything. She quickly steps back onto your ID, concealing your identity with her foot.
With all the sight of his six eyes, Gojo somehow completely missed Shoko’s strategic maneuvers to erase traces of your presence. He whistles nonchalantly, not having a care in the world, apparently.
In contrast, Shoko’s mind is racing. Her eyes roam around the courtyard, searching for your form. She feels rooted to the spot—will she reveal you if she steps away? She almost forgets that she’s not alone.
“You looking for someone?” Gojo asks.
Shoko stiffens, but forces herself to relax and appear nonchalant. “Ah, I was just wondering if…if (Y/N) would still be around.”
Gojo frowns. “Hm. Not sure. Don’t they usually go home right after they get off?”
“Lately, they’ve been staying back to do paperwork,” She sighs. “Masamichi has really giving them too many missions…How come you don’t know that?”
“Haven’t had the chance to catch up, I guess,” Gojo says evasively, then quickly changes the subject. “Besides, aren’t you the same way? You coming or not? I’ve got better things to do.”
He waves his cell phone around playfully, a smirk widening across his features.
Shoko rolls her eyes, “Go ahead. I’m just going to wait here a bit and see if I can text them and get them over here.”
She hesitates for a second before adding, “Actually, why don’t you wait a sec? We haven’t all seen each other in a bit.”
Gojo immediately stiffens. He scratches the back of his head and says, “Ah, I’m actually sort of on a time crunch. Maybe next time.”
What a lie. Shoko thinks, eyes narrowing subconsciously. What is he up to?
As he trails off into the distance, the gears in Shoko’s head continue to turn. He always, always teleports home after work finishes. So why is he slowly walking around campus, head turning this way and that way as if searching?
And you! Why were you there? Why were you so affected? What is going on in your head—or rather, your heart?
Something strange is going on with her two friends and Shoko is determined to find out what.
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PART II
credit 🩷:
@kiyaedits - baby pink dividers, @sweetxmelody - cherry blossom divider
*note: taglist open!! comment to be tagged in part 2 :)
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insanermin · 3 months
Text
and still i answer your call when she doesn't answer at all
pairing: ellie x fem!reader
warnings: toxic relationship, no nsfw, mentions of vomit, reader is stupid, soft ellie, curse words, not proof read, will never proof read im so sorry
word count: 1,3k
summary: you find yourself at ellie's place again after you fought with your girlfriend, not a first. or; you don't realise that ellie has loved you for a long time now.
it's probably past midnight but nothing matters anymore. blurred vision, narrow path, broken streetlights. thoughts fleet your mind as cars drive past, your heartbeat picking up the pace.
why on earth were you in a relationship when all you did was fight, get insulted and humiliated?
for god's sake, this is the third time this month you walked down this road, sobbing. your screen lights up, the brightness gives you a headache after all this crying. you ignore it, because you feel like your bones would give up any second if you chose to concentrate on something else.
pacing through her living room, ellie checks her phone twice, even thrice, but no new message yet.
'need me to come pick you up?' delivered.
just about when she made up her mind to get dressed and pick you up, the door rings. sighing in relieve, ellie opens the door, while taking a look back, making sure everything's in place. blanket on couch? check. water and snacks? plenty. tissues? ready to be used. she hears the heavy footsteps that belong to none other than you, nervousness starts to creep up on the nape of her neck. even though you've been friends for a year or two, ellie can't help but feel nervous around you and she'd never been able to ignore it. and there you are, mascara smudged, flushed cheeks and a red nose. but it wasn't the only redness ellie was concerned about. her eyes wander down to the bouquet of red roses your holding upside down.
oh, someone fucked up big time, ellie thinks to herself.
but before anything, she pulls you into a hug, mumbling a 'you okay?' into your hair. it's ridiculous how she could still ask this while seeing your swollen from crying face, but you still shake your head. however, you know that she cares immensely about you, otherwise you wouldn't be at her place at 2 am. her arms are no longer around you and she takes the bouquet from your hand and puts it on a coffee table. you take off your jacket, throw it to your left while you let yourself sink into the couch. ellie has watched your every step carefully, she's scared you might faint right in front of her because you've lost all colour in your face. a lot of time has passed sitting in silence, until ellie decides to speak up. she seems to hesitate, her eyebrows furrowed.
"so, what happened today?" she asks carefully, placing her hand on your thigh. you look at her hand placement, then at her. the way she looks at you makes you wish that your girlfriend ever looked at you like this, with so much care. you take a deep breath, then decide it's best to tell your friend what happened.
"i told her she should stop talking to her ex, i saw her ex text her 'i miss you' the other day," you say, feeling your tears swell up. ellie returns a soft 'mhm' signalising that she's listening.
"and then today, she bought me these flowers to apologise, but when she apologised, she fucking said her name instead of mine," you watch ellie gasp in shock, passing you some tissues as tears start to stream down your face.
"then we argued, she said she can't help but think about her, i told her i'd leave and then she started to insult me, threatened me even and i couldn't take it anymore," you spare ellie the details because you don't want her to worry too much, you know that she worries a lot about you.
ellie looks at you, pours in some water for you, all in silence. it confuses you because usually, she'd be much more talkative but today, something is different about her. if you weren't so upset about your own situation you would've asked, however you don't have the strength.
you drink some water, put it back on the table and as soon as your hands were free, ellie pulls you back and lays your head on her chest. you've needed this. you needed some comfort, comfort your girlfriend couldn't give you. you feel ellie's chest rise as she sighs.
"fuck, you don't even like roses..." she mutters disappointed, which surprises you. how did she know? when did you tell her? but her stroking your head seems to make you forget everything, objectively speaking, her big and rough hands had a nice feeling to them, they make you feel protected. you're in no position though to think about this, ellie is just a friend and you're in a relationship. and only now you realise that ellie has prepared all your favorite snacks, ready to be eaten just for you. how often have you been here? you know that ellie hates all of them, but still, they're here just for you. this isn't good, you need to stop thinking, you need this silence to end.
"want to watch something?" you ask, ellie nods. she picks up the tv remote, turns the tv on and stands up. you look at her confused, she holds out her hand, telling you to wait. you sit back, watching her silhouette. has her body always looked this good? you can appreciate when someone's attractive, so this means nothing. she squats in front of the tv, searching through the mini tv cabinet. a triumphant 'aha!' emerges from the front, ellie turns around to you, holding madagascar 2. you honestly don't feel like laughing at all, but you can't help but giggle a little.
"what the fuck, why do you have this?" you question, squinting your eyes to check if it's really that what you think it is.
"we talked about it once—" she's back to squatting, putting the dvd in,
"—and you said you really liked this movie back then—" ellie comes back to the couch, looking up to her sure is an interesting view. objectively speaking.
"—so last week i was on a flea market and saw they had this movie, it made me think of you," ellie says, her arm around you again, pulling you close to her. two things: why are her arms so big and she thought of you?
"wish my girlfriend was a little more like you," you say while leaning your head against her shoulder. a little more like her. for fuck's sake, ellie doesn't know how much longer she can do this. watch you suffer, watch you cry, watch you completely look the other way. you haven't left ellie's mind ever the two of you started talking. at first she thought she was just excited to have a new friend, but the more often you laid in her arms, the more her feelings grew. and she hated to see you hurt like this, when she knew that you could have her. it doesn't even stop there, because how come you wish for your girlfriend to be like her when she is literally there? how come you see all the things she does for you, but never questioned its intentions? fuck, she'd never make you cry or leave her place in the middle of the night, she'd talk it through, she would...
but what are would have's when ellie knows your blinded by the way you're hurting, you'd never see ellie the way she sees you. she'd stop the world for you but until you realise that the world would start spinning again. fuck your girlfriend, she didn't even know you hated roses, she doesn't know you the way ellie does. in fact, fuck her so much, because the last time she made you cry, you started puking and ellie was there the whole time, held your hair up, rubbed your back, washed your face, carried you back to her bed, made you some tea and even tucked you in bed. if she only could speak the way her actions do, her pouring her heart out would've been long overdue.
"i'd treat you so much better than her..." ellie whispers into your hair, but you've fallen asleep in her arms long ago.
a/n: sorry it took me so long to post, also BRYSON TILLER WILL BE ON TOUR OH MY GOD all credits to bryson tiller when i listen to his songs i think about ellie <333 anyway inspo was 'no longer friends' bryson tiller.
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fortunekookie07 · 9 days
Text
Alright, I am redeeming myself with this one! All the sappy mushy stuff coming your way!
Confessions in the Rain
Zayne had to admit to himself that he was tired. He couldn't even remember how you had gotten to this point in the first place. It was like the universe had set you to forever misinterpret him. Yet there you stood, face red in anger and eyes watery from un-shed tears.
"Why don't you just admit you hate me already, Zayne? I don't understand how you could even say that to me. I'm doing the best I can." Ahh there it was, a single tear had escaped your control and was rolling down your cheek.
He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off. "Don't bother, I know when I'm not wanted. You've made that painfully clear. I'll look for another Doctor!" You're almost shouting by the end of your words as you spin around and run from his office.
You run right past the nurse's station, ignoring them all staring at you. They'd never seen you anything but cheerful in the years you'd been coming. One of them even stood up hand reached out, but you're already gone.
The receptionist tries to stop you as well, but you don't hear her warning that it is pouring outside. You don't care. You have stopped paying attention to your surroundings. Eyes too blurry to see clearly anymore. Whether from rain or crying you don't know.
As you're about to step into the parkinglot you miss the edge of the sidewalk and go sprawling to the ground. Scraping your palms in the process. You land with a grunt. Your palms are bleeding now, but still you don't care. You sit up on your knees crying harder.
You're still sitting there crying when splashing footsteps come in your direction, and your name is called. "Come on, get up off the ground. It's pouring out here. You could catch a cold or pneumonia." Zayne has come after you, of course he did. He had a reputation to maintain after all. "No!" You yell back at him, swatting his hands when he tries to help you stand.
"If I'm sooo much trouble, then don't bother anymore. I'm not your responsibility. Just go away!" You swat his hands again. "You silly girl," Zayne says. softly grasping your arms and forcing you to stand. He holds you to him. Not minding your squirming and attempts to push him away. His voice rumbles in your ear as he speaks again. "Why do you always misunderstand me? You've been like that since we were kids." You freeze at his words, tears still sliding down your cheeks and washed away by the rain.
"Wh-what?" Your voice is shaky from crying. "I have never cared that you cause me trouble, trouble me more. Turn my entire life upside down. I don't care, as long as it's you. Let me take care of you, I've always wanted to." He pauses for a breath. Zayne has never said so many heartfelt words to you before.
"I just wish that you would not take what I say the wrong way. I decided to become a cardiac surgeon for you. I wanted to find a cure for your heart condition. You are the drive behind my every action. Don't you know that yet?" You look up into his hazel eyes, burning with the intensity of his emotions.
"I'm always worried about you, you're job is so dangerous, but you disregard my worry and dive headlong into danger every day. I know I can't stop you or hold you back. Just don't push me away again." He's pleading now. Zayne has never, ever done that for anyone. You try to squash the feeling in your heart again. You have always suppressed your feelings, certain he would never return them.
"Why, why would you go so far for me? Is it because we're childhood friends?" Zayne closes his eyes and drops his head a long sigh coming from him.
"You're so silly, why are you so silly. Fine, I'll spell it out for you then." He takes a breath, "because I love you." He looks into your eyes with finality. There is no way you could possibly misunderstand that.
Tears well up to your eyes again. "Y-you do??" Zayne gently grabs bot side of your face. He rubs circles on your cheeks with his thumbs as he stares into your eyes. "I've always loves you, ever since we were children." He says quietly. You grab his tie and stand on your toes pulling him down to your level before you can kiss him.
Zayne is surprised, his eyes going wide before he returns the kiss. After a minute you pull back and smile. "I love you too."
You're both completely drenched by the rain and the receptionist was standing in the entrance with a scolding look and towels. When you finally start back towards the hospital she's fussing about how wet you both are and the water you're tracking across the floor.
She wastes no time throwing towels over both you and Zayne and ushering you into bathrooms to have a warm shower and put on dry clothes. Despite all this, you can't get the silly grin off your face. Your heart is elated, and you feel like you're soaring high above the storm clouds. You hope that you never come back down from this feeling.
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h4rring1on · 2 years
Note
hello!! if you can and want, could you write some angst with steve x fem!reader in which reader feels insecure - in a way that she thinks she's annoying because she talks too much and sometimes too loud, and one day, steve has the party over for a movie night and one of the kids mention that she talks too much and she's too loud while steve goes into the kitchen for something (or to the bathroom, whatever). so from that moment on she tries to speak as little as possible until steve brings it up to her one day and comforts her about it.
i'm sorry if it's too specific, if you can't do it, it's alright! your writings are some of my favourites on tumblr!!! 🌼💗
you and steve never really had any major problems, little fights every now and then but it wasn’t big. you still loved each other, you completed each other
but sometimes, just sometimes, you’d wonder if you really did complete steve. moments like this would always come up, like you’d be play fighting with steve and you’d say “i’m gonna catch you!” a bit too loud
when that would happen, you’d quiet down, you’d be the same, just calmer and more quiet. steve never really notice it until one day, where it became way too clear for him not to.
you were with the party, everyone was wrapped around blankets, popcorn and snacks in hand as they watched the movie, steve was next to you, holding you close as you watched
“wait i don’t get it—how did all that happen when her boyfriend was just sleeping, he must’ve noticed, right?” you asked
“hm, don’t think so, it was outside so he couldn’t have heard it” steve explained
“ohh, yeah right” you said, steve then told you he was gonna go get more snacks from the kitchen
“that one’s my favorite” you pointed to the girl on the screen, you liked talking about the characters and movie overall
“oh my god” mike whined
“we get it, jesus” lucas said
“what the hell, guys?” dustin said
“im sorry dustin i cant take it anymore” mike said, “cant you go one minute without talking? it’s so annoying! we can barely hear the movie because of how loud you are!” mike rolled his eyes and dustin smacked him
“oh…i’m sorry” was all you said, you turned back to the movie and snuggled closer into your blanket, wishing you could hide under it forever. you wanted to disappear, to go away.
you zoned out as the scene kept replaying in your head, you knew it. you finally knew what they truly think of you, what they hate about you. and it was exactly what you hated about yourself
you felt steve sit next to you, making you snap back to reality
“got you your favorite” he smiled and gave you the bag, you slightly smiled and ate in silence
ever since that night, you barely spoke. when you’d visit steve, you’d just listen and nod when he’s speaking. only time you’d actually talk is when you had to give a verbal response.
even then, it was low and wasn’t the way you used to talk, it was worse when you were around the party, you wouldn’t utter a single sound. you thought nobody would notice, but steve did. very much.
steve was working robin’s shift, so it was just you and him, he called you earlier, asking if you could come over since he’s closing the store now, you muttered a small ‘mhm’ and went to the store, helping him close up
he was talking to you about one of the customers that came today, and how they’d taken so long to decide what movie they wanted
“can you believe it? 45 minutes just to pick ghostbusters, it’s not even that hard of a decision to make” he said as he put away the tapes, he looked to you and saw you nodding
“let’s go sit for a bit, take a little break” he said and you nodded again, he sat in front of you, holding your hand
he called your name, and you shook your head in question, “you know i love you, right?” he said and you nodded, “you know you can tell me anything, right?” and you nodded yet again
“did i do something?” he asked and you furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head, “talk to me” he said, his tone frustrated
“no” you shook your head
“then tell me what’s wrong” he asked and you stayed silent, “i know somethings wrong, please—tell me why are you acting this way?”
“what way—“
“are you serious?” he cut in, “you’ve barely said a word to me for the past few days, i know theres a reason—talk to me, please.”
you looked at him for a bit and looked down, “there’s nothing wrong, okay? just—some people finally decided be brave enough to tell me the truth”
“what truth? what people—“
“the truth is that im annoying!” you snapped, “that im annoying—and loud, and talkative. and im happy to hear it because they’re not wrong. they’re not! i should actually thank them for finally telling me what’s wrong with me.” you sighed
steve looked at you with such hurt in his eyes, “who said that?” he asked in a low voice
“why do you even care—”
“why do i even ca—are you—because it’s a lie! everything—they’re all lies! baby, who cares if you like to talk about things more than others do, who cares if you’re loud? you’re you and thats what matters, whoever said that is saying complete bullshit, and i don’t care about it. i just—“ he sighed and held your hand tighter, “i miss your voice, i miss the way you get excited about things, i miss the way you talk on and on and on, i miss you. i miss you, peach.”
a smile found its way on your face and you hugged him tight, “i love you, stevie” you said
“i love you too” he smiled, a feeling of comfort finally coming back to him, to hear you and have you in his arms again.
you two held onto each other for a bit before letting go, “now, you wanna tell me who in their right mind said that?”
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shaylixie · 10 months
Text
Going Home
Word Count: 2k
Genre: Angst
Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader
Requested: No.
Part 2
Summary: Chan and Y/n get into a fight, causing one of them to leave.
Warnings / Contains: Language; toxic behaviour.
A/N: The way I write this shit but I'd never act like this irl lmao...I'd like to believe I'd be a lot healthier about it but hey, do it for the angst amirite? Enjoy! 💗
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You come home and take your shoes off at the door of your apartment, feeling defeated after yet another shitty day at work. The past month has been hell - work has been so hectic and insane and you barely got a breather. To make things worse, Chan was having his own struggles too, and you hardly had time for each other...which you thought would have made the little time you spent together more special, but it just felt strained. It was getting late, and you desperately needed a hot bath and a meal. The first proper one of the day - that muffin from the morning did a good job sustaining you, but you really really needed something more.
You walked in to the kitchen to find Chan sitting at the table with takeout - God, you completely forgot.
"Channie, hi. Fuck! I'm so sorry, baby. Work finished later than planned and I completely forgot and...are you mad?"
He gave you a tight smile. "It's okay, y/n. I know how things are. The food is cold now though...we should warm it up."
You sighed and sat down at the table. "I feel like shit, Chan. I really am sorry. Why didn't you eat without me?"
"You know I'd never do that," Chan says. "Hey, you're here now. Let's just eat, okay?"
You have a feeling he's trying to appear less hurt than he is, but you dish out the food anyway for both of you and heat it up. You eat together in silence, trying to ignore the slight tension in the air. Afterwards, you get up to wash the dishes and Chan finally speaks up.
"How was your day?"
You can tell he's trying to ignore the tension in the room and move past it, so you do your best to do the same, while remaining as honest as possible.
You sigh. "It was shit. Again."
"I'm sorry," Chan replies.
"It's okay. Not your fault. Anyway. I'm gonna go shower, okay?"
He clears his throat. "Yeah, sure. Let me know if you need anything."
You kiss his cheek and make your way to the bathroom.
-
When you get into bed, Chan is turned the other way, already asleep...or so you think. You switch the bedside light off and turn to sleep too. It's silent for a while until Chan turns over and runs a hand down your side, stopping at your hip. He presses against you then, and you feel exactly why he's still awake. But after the shitty day - no, month - that you've had, you just don't have it in you. You ignore it, and act like you're asleep. Maybe not the healthiest move, but you're too exhausted to think about it too much.
"Baby?" Chan whispers. "You awake?"
"No," you reply.
He sighs then and flops onto his back, letting out a sigh of defeat. After a few moments, he shakes your arm and then turns to put his bedside light on.
"Y/n, can we talk?" he asks, tone firmer than usual.
"Can it wait?"
"No, no I don't think it can."
You sit up then.
"What going on with us?" he finally asks after weeks of wondering.
"What do you mean?" you ask, knowing but wanting him to elaborate more.
"You mean you haven't noticed? God, we haven't talked in ages. I mean a real conversation. Everything always feels like a string is about to snap...the constant tension...I can't stand it. I don't even know what's happening." It's as though a valve opened, and now everything is pouring out. "Look...you're busy, I get that. But I am too - yet I'm trying, y/n. It feels like you aren't. You come home late. You never come by me anymore...not to the studio, not to my place. It's been what, a month? Maybe more? It feels like more. We don't talk, we don't touch...when's the last time we even had sex? It's like you don't want to even touch me anymore. I don't know if I did something but I don't know what to do anymore. I'm trying...and it feels...it feels like you aren't. Like you haven't been for a while."
He waits for your response, and you feel tears pricking the back of your eyes. Which makes you frustrated...which makes you angry.
"What the fuck do you want me to do, Chris?!"
He's taken aback by your sudden burst of anger.
"I'm tired. Okay? I'm fucking exhausted. I-I don't even know what to do myself. I barely sleep. Or eat. I'm stressed all the time. I feel like I don't even have time for myself let alone you and now what, it's my fault? Fuck this."
You get up from bed and leave the room. Chan sits for a while in stunned silence. What just happened? Fuck it, he's pissed too now.
He follows after you. "Really, y/n? You're gonna take this shit out on me? I'm trying to help us - get us out of whatever the fuck you got us into - and you what, just explode on me? I'm trying to fix us!"
"And what if you can't, Chris?! What if this can't be fixed?"
He looks at you like you just cussed him in 3 different languages. "You really think that?"
"Fucking maybe!"
He laughs a humourless laugh and then shakes his head at you.
"That's all I needed to hear. Fuck this."
He grabs his keys and slips on his shoes, slamming the door behind him and leaving you alone in the dark flat, the tears finally falling down your cheeks.
-
It's been hours and you still can't sleep. You sob thinking about your fight with Chan; about what you said; what you insinuated. Was it really beyond fixing? You think about what Chan said. He's right...you haven't been making time for him. You haven't spoken the way you used to in what feels like a while. You haven't touched each other lovingly or sexually in a minute and you've ignored his every advance. And he had been trying...Chan was just as stressed out. His deadlines were all coming up and he was suffering with writer's block and he had an appearance soon and the Kids were behind and and and. Yet he still made time for you. Even if it was small. He still came to your place almost every night, even if it was after you fell asleep. He still made sure you ate and he checked in when he could and he always tried to act like things were okay, even if they weren't. He never wanted to add onto your stress. God. You were a dick. You don't deserve him, you think, crying harder. And the cherry on top? In a few days, you'll finally have a break. So much for that now.
-
It's been 3 heartaching days since the fight with Chan. You haven't spoken in that time, but you can't say it's his fault. The day after, neither of you spoke. The next day, he sent you a message. "Can we talk?" You ignored it. He called that same night, but you declined. He got the message. The third day, he called 4 times. You ignored all the calls. You knew what you had to do.
At 4am that morning, you woke up and started getting ready. You got out of the shower and dressed, hair still wet, when you heard urgent knocking at your door. You opened it, only to see Chan - bags under his slightly red, puffy eyes and hair dishevelled. Your own face probably looked the same.
"Y/n, can we talk? Please?" He paused as if finally noticing you were dressed and your hair was wet. "Where are you going?"
You sighed. "Home," you said in a small voice.
Chan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "But you're already home?"
You looked down, and then back at him.
"I mean home Chan...as in South Africa. I'm going back."
He stopped breathing. "What?"
"This isn't working out, Chan. I don't...I don't deserve you. My flight is in 2 hours. I need to get to the airport now. I'll be gone for a while but I have to come back to decide what happens next. Maybe we can talk then."
You move to close the door on him, but he stops you.
"What- You're ending things?"
Now it was your turn to be confused. "Didn't that happen 3 days ago?"
"Y/n, no. It was just a stupid fight! It doesn't mean anything. Don't do this, please. We can work things out. Cancel the flight. Please. Baby...please."
You feel your eyes sting with fresh tears, and you turn to walk to your bedroom to get your things, knowing that trying to get Chan to leave is useless. As you suspected, he follows you and stands behind you as you go to grab a jacket, ignoring your wet hair now. No point drying it while he's here...you had to get out as soon as possible. You go to grab your suitcases, trying painfully hard not to look at Chan whose face is streaked with tears too. You deposit the suitcases at your front door and slip on your shoes, making sure you have everything. Chan watches you do all this, still in shock, as though he doesn't believe any of it is real...like it's just one big nightmare.
"You have to go now, Chan," you sigh. "Or at least, I have to. I can't miss this flight. I'll see you around."
You turn to walk out the door but you stop when you feel his hands wrap around your calves. Looking down, Chan is on his knees, the same way he's been so many times before for you, but so so different now.
"Please," he croaks. He's sobbing now, and he drops his head against your leg. "I'll do anything. Please just don't go. You want me to beg? I'll beg! Please, y/n. I'll make things right...I'll fix this. I'll fix us. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fuck things up between us...I'm so so sorry, baby. I love you so much...please, please...please, baby. Please."
You're sobbing too now. You kneel down, facing him, and take his face in your hands, wiping his tears. In between shuddering breaths, you say, "That's the thing, Chan. You don't have to fix anything. You weren't the one that broke it...that was all me. I don't deserve you, Channie. Maybe I did once, but not anymore. You deserve someone better." You cry harder at the thought of him with someone else. Composing yourself enough to talk, you add, "You deserve someone who can love you where I failed to...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby." You kiss his forehead.
"That's bullshit, y/n! I know you love me. And it's enough! It's enough for me. Look, a lot of shit has just been happening to us but we can fix it. Okay? Just give us a chance. Fuck anyone else - I don't want anyone else. I want YOU! You're all I've ever wanted and I'll never-" He breaks down sobbing again. "I'll never want anyone besides you. You hear me? Stay. Stay for me, baby. Please."
You both break down even more then, foreheads against each other. You stay like that for a while before you glimpse the time. You still had to drive to the airport and check in your luggage and board and-. You had to leave. You move to stand, pulling Chan up with you. You hug him, and eventually force yourself to let go.
"If it's meant to be...it'll be. Yeah?" you say.
Chan just sniffs in response, fresh tears brewing.
"I'll see you when I get back and then...well, we can see from there. Okay?"
"So it's not over?" he asks.
You kiss his cheek and hand him your key. "Lock up for me?"
You grab your suitcases and make your way to the car, leaving a heartbroken, devastated Chan behind.
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tw1l1te · 3 months
Text
blueberry₊˚✩⊹sal fisher x reader₊˚✩⊹
(Not edited, so please forgive men if there are grammatical/spelling errors. Random thought I came up with. Please let me know if you'd like more backstory/a continuation of this!
Sitting on top of Addison Apartments was a place to think. A place of silence except the sounds of breathing and the occasional shuffling around. You haven't been up here in a while, since the fight you and Sal had a few months ago.
₊˚✩⊹
"God you're such a hypocrite. You keep telling others to take care of themselves and not isolate, but yet you don't give two shits and don't even take your own advice. Not answering your phone or leaving your apartment for over two months? Do you know how worried Ash was? How heartbroken and distant Larry became?? We thought you were fucking dead Y/n. And after all that you decide to drop by and ask 'what's up'?" Sal seethed, his tone getting more hostile by the second.
You don't think you've ever seen him so angry.
"I'm sorry Sal, I didn't mean to make you all worry. That was the last thing I wanted you guys to feel. You know I don't handle my mental health well," you murmured, avoiding Sal's eyes. You could already feel the tears streaming down your face.
"Listen I get it Y/n, but you can't just cut us off like that. You made us all husks of what we used to be. Do you know how many nights I stayed up till the early morning just staring at my phone, hoping you'd at least call?? I couldn't even remember what you sounded like until today."
"Bluebe-"
"Don't call me that. You have no right calling me that after the months of heartbreak and worry you've caused us. Every time this happens, I get my hopes up in that you won't shut us out and disappear. I get disappointed every. Single. Time. You're lucky that Larry, Ash, and Todd are such forgiving people. You don't deserve them."
You mulled over his words. He was right. You didn't deserve them. All the affection and love that they gave you all for you to throw it down the drain when you got too ill. The hundreds of phone calls from Ash. The constant check-ins from Larry over the walkie-talkie, talking about stupid shit that happened that day or speaking softly about how much he missed you. Todd emailing you every few days asking how you were holding up and if you needed anything, but eventually those emails automatically went to spam. And Sal. Sal was probably the hardest to avoid.
He sat outside your apartment door for hours, talking, pleading you to let him in to talk. He brought snacks and slid them under the door, worried if you were eating enough. Playing his guitar for you through the walkie-talkie, hoping it would soothe you or cheer you up. Sliding random doodles and letters under the door so you had something to help remind you about how much they cared about you. How much he cared for you. You kept them all under the bed in a shoe box, reading over every word and cat doodle every single night.
"I can't do this again, Y/n. You've hurt me over and over and over again. Each time I expected it to end different."
He took a pause, waiting for a reaction or a word from you.
"We're done. I don't know about the others, but don't bother writing or talking to me. I can't do this anymore."
And with that, he headed downstairs, not sparing you a single glance back.
₊˚✩⊹
You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the rooftop door creak open.
You don't look back, hoping the person would get a hint and leave.
You hear the footsteps get closer, and stopping right beside you.
"Didn't think you came up here anymore." he mumbled, shifting uncomfortably.
Fuck. He was probably the last person you wanted to see right now.
"I come here to think." you stated, looking out to the street and nearby houses.
"Y/n, I'm sor-" "I'm leaving." you cut him off, already knowing what he was going to say.
You've thought about your time in Nockfell and decided that it was time for you to move on. You couldn't be stuck in a time capsule forever. The more time had passed, the more it had started to hurt being here and see reminders of what had happened. Reminders of him.
"What?" he whispered, finally looking at you.
"I need to move on. I can't be here anymore." you stated, trying to keep your voice level.
"You were right, I can't keep leaving people in the dark and constantly worrying them. I'll keep doing that if I stay here. I need to be somewhere else, I don't know where, but I'll figure it out."
"Y/n. If this is about what I said, I'm sorry, I was in a bad state too. I was just so worried that something had happened-"
"Sal, please stop. I'm not changing my mind. I'm leaving tomorrow morning-"
"What about Ash? Larry and Todd? What about me?? I need you here. It was wrong of me to shut you out, to ignore you. I'm so sorry, Y/n."
You finally looked at him, right into his blue eyes.
His hair had gotten longer, choppier, like he'd tried to cut it himself. No longer in the pigtails you loved. Seems like you'd both changed.
"I need to go, Sal."
You walk away, not looking back because if you did, you wouldn't be able to leave. You wouldn't be able to leave them. Leave Nockfell. Leave him.
"I'll see you around, Blueberry."
₊˚✩⊹
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almondest · 11 months
Text
Favorite Crime
:: Blade , Jing Yuan , Dan Heng , Sampo , Gepard
summary: breaking up under certain circumstances, adhering to you as their favorite crime.
a/n: ib by what I'm currently going through RAAAAAAAAAAAA (expect for more angst in the coming days)
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The things you did.
You played a significant role in him. Blade was sure you two would last longer than expected, but it was never bound to happen.
When you asked to end things with him in unfortunate circumstances, he felt his whole world turn upside down. The way all the things you did reflect in his vision every night.
There was no remedy for those memories, your face played like a melody that won't leave his head.
"Why..?" He meekly whispered. he was facing you, the tears that were threatening to fall down those crimson eyes were so forcibly kept. Instead, he just looked at you, scanning those eyes of yours in an attempt to convince himself that you were just joking.
"I'm sorry Blade. I-I just have too much on my plate right now..." You whispered back, before turning away from him. "I love you Blade, I really do. But because of this, I had to cut you off. for our sake."
Well, I hope I was your favorite crime.
He loves you so much, that he doesn't want to see you hurting. But Jing Yuans method, brought you down and just made you sadder than you already were.
You thought you knew him, but I guess you didn't. He hides so much stuff that you just wished he'd be free to tell you anything and everything.
"So, you were engaged?" You looked at him dejected, tears were slowly blurring your vision. "So you knew..."
"And you were planning to keep me from the dark? Do you never plan to tell me? I wouldn't have known if Yanqing never told me." Your tears finally gave out, breaking down right in front of him. "I was trying to get you to hate me!" You sighed, wiping away the tears that stained your cheek.
"Maybe we need to cool off for a while? Or better, Maybe we need to gather enough time for ourselves." You turned your back on him. "I love you. I really do, but maybe this isn't the right time for us."
It's bittersweet to think about the damage that we'd do.
After a heated argument with him a few days ago, you two gradually made up. But you always felt that deep inside, something was going on with Dan Heng. He was slightly colder, the vibe he gave off whenever you two met felt unfamiliar. It was as if, the love that once radiated to the two of you disappeared like nothing.
"I can't help but think, that as if we're strangers heng..." You started, walking towards the couch to sit beside him. "is something going on? You know you can tell me..." You whisper, taking his hand and playing with it.
He remained silent, treating you like a breeze of wind. 'No, nothing is going on my love...' Is what he wants his mouth to speak out but nothing comes out. "Did I do something wrong again? Please talk to me..." You started pleading, tightening your grip to his hand. 'No..You never did.'
Yet despite your pleas and begs, he never shared a glance with you. "[Name], let's end this." 'Fuck, please don't cry.'
Cause I was going down and I was doing it with you.
The first few years of your relationship was a blast. It was fun, it was something you never experienced with others before. Sampo was someone you gave your heart to ever so fast. But sometimes, these can be bound to break.
"You don't understand!" You screamed, accidentally throwing the vase of flowers that he gave you for your 3rd anniversary a few days ago, immediately feeling guilt rush through you.
He raised both his hands as a sign of surrendering. "[Name], my darling please don't get mad anymore... I swear I'll never really do it again!" You irked at those words of his. No matter what he says, you no longer felt the urge to give him another chance.
"Sampo, I'm done. Let's stop this..." You sighed, tears threatening to fall. "Once a thief, always a thief."
But I say that I hate you with a smile on my face.
He's beginning to grow distant. Gepard who once knew how to balance both his time for work, and for you was no longer there. After the whole fiasco of having 3 wanted people, he gradually lost time with you. And whenever he had, you did your best to get him to cheer up and spend time with you, but all you ended up receiving was a harsh cold shout of "leave me alone!".
"I'm home." A soft masculine voice echoed through your shared apartment but you never ought to give a response.
Soft creaking of the wooden floorboards were subtly heard, stripping your attention off to the newspaper you were reading. "Ah, you're home..." You unenthusiastically greeted.
You knew deep down that he had reasons as to why he acted that way for the past few weeks, you tolerated it and understood his situation. But when he actually shouted at you more louder than before gave your last straw.
Never once did he apologize after lashing out on you, never once did he even try to check up on you right after.
"Gepard, do you love me?" You asked, breathing in the courage to finally say it out. "Hmm? What's up? Of course I do... You don't know how much I do." He softly mouths, walking near you to give you an embrace he longed for.
"Oh, is that so?" You asked. "Are you doubting me?"
Long pause. Long pauses. Silence.
"I... Maybe we need space for a little while?"
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sunflowerxthoughts · 1 year
Text
Just the two of us- Eddie Munson x reader
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Summary: Eddie has a girlfriend. Hellfire hates her, Dustin is not sure yet. What happens when they take the teasing a little too far?
a/n: I made the boys a bit too mean in this one but anything for the plot I guess. I had a bad day so here's some angst.
TW: Bullying, the guys being mean. Angst :(
+ 18 MINORS DNI
Eddie and Y/N's relationship had been new for the both of them and the rest of group. It was hard adjusting. Suddenly there was a girl sitting with them. Suddenly there's someone watching Hellfire. The crowd of drunks now has a girl in them too. And they don't like the change.
It's not like Eddie was spending all of his time with her. He tried to balance it as much as he could. But of course he was so smitten with her he couldn't help but want to spend more time with the literal girl of his dreams.
Dustin... Dustin secretly liked her. She was sweet, he liked having a healthy relationship he could look up to when it came to his own girl and most importantly, Y/N had never judged them. And that was great in his books, but the pressure to dislike her was making him rethink the whole thing.
And now, of course it seems like the most awkward thing in the world. Eddie is late for lunch and everyone is in their usual seats. Only the table is completely silent and she is starting to overthink if she even belongs there. The teasing she could handle, the silence was cutting through her like a knife.
"So" she starts, looking up from her lunch. "Um Eddie is late."
"We can see that, thanks." Mike replies coldly.
"Tough crowd, okay." She whispers to herself.
She eats her lunch in silence, Dustin wants to smack Mike into oblivion until Gareth speaks, and all hell breaks.
"Why are you sitting here then?"
"Sorry?" She asks surprised. Sure Gareth hadn't been nice to her, but this was a little harsher than ususal.
"I asked why are you sitting here. Eddie is not here and the only reason you are welcome is because he is now dragging you by his side all the time. It's annoying."
"Gareth mayb-" Dustin can't even speak before Mike cuts him off.
"It really is, what did Eddie see in you anyway?" She starts to tear up then. No matter how tough you are, sometimes people just break when you have so many kids absolutely destroying you for no reason. "All you do is sit around all clingy, I'm surprised he has not broken up with you yet."
"What?"
"We're all waiting for the moment he realises you are not good enough and he stops waiting his time and our time on you." Jeff adds. "We don't have a DM anymore, we have a lovesick puppy who you somehow have tricked to like you. Good job, but it won't work with us."
"Guys you are being mean!" Dustin tries to stop them while she gathers all of her stuff in her bag. "She has done nothing to us."
"Can it, Dustin." Gareth says, "You aren't welcome here, grab your stuff and just go, do whatever you do when you aren't clinging to Eddie."
"You know what?" She starts, holding back tears. "Fine. I'll go break up with Eddie right now. See how you face him when you take one thing he actually enjoys and throw it down the drain because you are selfish little boys who deal with being bullied by bullying others. You are now at the same level as Carver. Congratulations boys, you've made it. I hope you are happy."
She's out of there before they can answer and Dustin is following behind her trying to stop what is going to be a huge fight for everyone involved. When he sees them talk, he knows it might be too late.
"Y/N wait don't! Don't break up with him please."
"What?"
"I'm sorry Eds, it's for the best. Maybe we're just not meant for each other. It's okay."
Dustin's heart breaks right then and there and so does Eddie's. She doesn't dare mention what happened because she wants him to at least have someone there. Eddie really does value his friends.
She is out there and heading home before either of them really take in what had just happened. Dustin doesn't really know what to say. But the guilt eats him alive when you don't show up in school for the rest of the week and cancels everything. He thinks he is going to explode, but even risking losing his friends, he knows he has to talk to him.
"Eddie can we talk?"
"Not right now."
"It's about Y/N"
That sparks Eddie's curiosity and his whole body language changes. He perks up but he just gets sadder.
"It wasn't for the best Eddie, it was because of them."
"Huh?"
"The guys..."
Eddie sees red. He sets up an emergency meeting and it's a bloodbath. He yells, he cries and he doesn't break anything only because it's school property and he doesn't have the money to pay for it. And after all is said and done. Eddie is fucking ready to climb outside her window.
The knocks startle her from her little pit of despair and ice cream. She knows it can only be Eddie and she doesn't know if she is ready to face him, but she does. Because after all, she'd do everything for him.
"I love you" He says as soon as she opens the window and he falls to his knees.
"Wha-"
"I'm in love with you and I couldn't care less about what they think of you. The only time I haven't felt like a failure outside of Hellfire is with you. And maybe I'm shit at expressing my emotions but everytime you hold my hand my heart just races and when I go to sleep I just want to wake up to see you again. Because for some reason you have decided I get to love you and I'm so, so in love with you."
"Eddie they're your friends-"
"And best believed I yelled at them. You are so nice to them, they had no right to be that mean to you. You make me happy and they should be happy about it."
"I'm not clingy?"
"Please I'd take you anywhere with me if I could."
"I'm not annoying'"
"If you are annoying, what would that make me?"
"My boyfriend, if you'll have me again."
"I'll be your boyfriend anyway you are. I don't care. And you are not annoying." He smiles and grabs her by the waist. "Now" He kisses her. "That's better. How about we put on a movie and forget about the world for a bit. We can deal with everything later."
"Just the two of us?"
"Until the end of the world, baby."
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lucrezianoin · 4 months
Text
Wyll and Astarion banter (2/2)
Collection of banter between Wyll and Astarion (you can find part 1 here). In case I will add more in the future I will use the tag "wyllstarion banter".
This one has a lot of dialogues I literally never heard of, so I wonder if some of them are not in game anymore (tho they are act 3 specific).
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Astarion: I hardly saw you at the party. Did the honest and true Blade sneak off for a little fun? Wyll: No! Nothing like that at all. Astarion: Oh, but you protest too much. Now I know you were practicing your swordplay.
---
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Wyll: Ah - the memories. The Blushing Mermaid's where fifteen-year-old Wyll snuck his first kiss. Astarion: You didn't kiss anyone until you were fifteen? Gods, what a tragic, sheltered life... Wyll: Sheltered? Not at all. I was exposed to all manner of riot and revelry. Hells, my father even urged me on once or twice. But I've always been a bit old-fashioned on these matters. I find more pleasure in a courtly dance than a loveless fling.
---
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Astarion: I lived two centuries in this city, but it can still surprise me. Wyll: Baldur's Gate harbours many a secret. Even the longest-lived explorers have yet to uncover them all. Speaking of - what were you getting up to all those years? Astarion: Let's not get into details. If Baldur's Gate can have its secrets, so can I.
---
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Wyll: Astarion, I was wrong about you. Truly wrong about you. Astarion: Let me guess - you thought I'd suck blood, but actually I just suck? Was that your witty jab? (devnote: a little tired of Wyll's bullshit) Wyll: No, I mean it. There's little between us we share. But you've fallen in love and stood by your lover. That is something this dreamer's heart can appreciate.
(this is a spawn astarion romanced dialogue)
---
(more under cut)
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Astarion: Well, it's no Baldur's Gate, but at least it's some kind of civilisation. Wyll: I do miss the Gate, though. The Elfsong Tavern! Sunset over Grey Harbour! Fried fish at the docks! Astarion: Drunk young patriars, naked in the fountains! Ah, civilisation... (note: whistfully)
---
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Wyll: Finally, we're approaching Moonrise Towers. Astarion: Nothing escapes the Blade of Frontiers' keen senses, I see. Wyll: Mock me all you want, Astarion. We could use a little comic relief. Astarion: Yes, that's why I'm mocking you - to keep our spirits up. No other reason...
---
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Astarion: You know, I've never seen this place in the daylight before. Wyll: I always loved this park. Spent a lot of time here as a boy battling imaginary monsters. Astarion: Oh, I was going to say it looks wretched. The dark hid all the kitschy details.
---
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Wyll: Astarion, I just want to say - I judged you wrongly. I'm sorry. Astarion: Really? And how - specifically - have you misjudged my fine character? Wyll: You aren't actually insufferably randy. You're just insufferable.
---
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Astarion: Marriage, Wyll? I thought you'd have learned not to get trapped by devious contracts. Wyll: I was planning to invite you to the ceremony, but I'm having second thoughts. Astarion: I'd love to come! As long as I can sit with someone fun. Mizora, perhaps?
---
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Wyll: I'd watch yourself, my friend. I don't know if our pale rogue has anything good in his heart, or even a scrap of it left for you. Astarion: Excuse me? That's just mean - we're all adults here. Wyll: Your heart's cold as ice, Astarion. I'm just making sure no one slips and gets hurt.
---
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Wyll: As much love as I hold for Baldur's Gate, these frontiers delight me as much as any bustling street. Astarion: You can't be serious? This is a howling wasteland! I haven't even had a bath since the abduction. I must reek of ilithid slime. Wyll: Sure, but think of the stories you'll be able to tell.
---
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Shadowheart: So. A vampire spawn and a monster hunter in the same group. We're not going to have trouble, are we? Astarion: Excuse me? Since this tadpole, I'm barely a monster at all. I just want to survive, same as you. Wyll: I don't see a problem, as long as mister fang there keeps his appetite in check.
---
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Astarion: A question for our master monster hunter: how would you approach killing a vampire? Wyll (he knows Astarion is a vampire): A full-on vamp, you mean? Lure it into the sun, drive a stake through its heart. And that's not the end of it. The suckers are wily. No offence. Astarion: None taken. Wiliness keeps me alive. More or less.
Wyll (he doesn't know Astarion is a vampire): To start? Lure it into the sun, drive a stake through its heart. Why? Astarion: Just curious.
---
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(this is about the Moonrise Oubliette)
Astarion: Admittedly, I don't care for most people, but this is a terrible waste. (note: referring to all the wasted blood) Wyll: Because their lives were cut brutally short, you mean. Astarion: I - ... yes, that. That's clearly what I was referring to. (note: pretending he wasn't referring to all the wasted blood)
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iheartkiri · 14 days
Text
draco malfoy is an idiot. (1)
                            ✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡
You stood in the library, your movements sharp and angry as you slammed books back onto the shelves. It had been a month since your blowout with Draco, and the feelings from that night still rained heavy on your mind. Clearly, it had been a mutual sentiment as the tension between you and Draco whenever you two unfortunately ran into each other was thick enough to cut. 
Your childhood friends, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, noticing your mood, exchanged concerned glances with each other.
"What's up with you, Y/N?" Blaise cautiously asked, his eyes darting between you and the bookshelves. "You've been pissed off for weeks. Did something go down with you and Draco?" 
You spun around, your eyes flashing with a mix of hurt and anger. "Oh that jerk?" you snapped, your voice dripping with bitterness. "I can't believe I ever considered that loser my friend."
Theodore frowned, his eyes filled with confusion. "What did he say that got you so riled up? We know Draco can be an ass sometimes, but a month of you guys not speaking is a bit much."
You clenched your fists, the hurt and anger bubbling inside you. "You know what he did? He called me sensitive and said I couldn't take a joke," you said, your voice shaking. "He made me feel like my feelings didn't even matter to him, like I was overreacting. He didn't even try to see where I was coming from."
Blaise's eyebrows furrowed, his expression turning serious. “Dang that's a low blow, even for Draco. We know he can be a jerk, but a month of you guys not talking is a little excessive. What exactly happened during that fight?"
You took a shaky breath, the memories of that painful day flooding your mind. "It started as off as a stupid joke, but then he took it too far. I tried to tell him how he was in the wrong, but he brushed me off. He didn't care that he was hurting my feelings."
Theodore placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his eyes soft with understanding. "I get why you're angry, Y/N. Draco can be thoughtless. But a month is a long time. Maybe he's realized his mistake and is too stubborn to admit it."
You shook your head, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm not ready to forgive him, Theo. Not yet. He really messed up, and I need him to understand how much his words hurt. I won't be the one to cave."
Blaise stepped closer, his voice gentle and understanding. "We get it, Y/N. Draco can be an arrogant jerk sometimes. But we also know he cares about you. Maybe he's too proud to admit he was wrong, but we can try to talk to him, see if he'll apologize."
You scoffed, your anger simmering just below the surface. "Don't bother, Blaise. I don't want anything to do with him anymore. If he's waiting for my apology he can wait all he wants. Besides, he must be 'so sorry' himself to let a month pass by." You added sarcastically, rolling your eyes.
Theodore squeezed your shoulder, his eyes filled with determination. "Y/N, we just want to help. We know you and Draco go way back, and we can see you guys really care about each other. We're worried, and we want to fix this."
 You shook your head, your eyes flashing with a mix of hurt and stubbornness. "There's nothing between us Theo. Not anymore. And even if there was, it doesn't change the fact that he hurt me. I'm not ready to forgive him."
Blaise and Theodore shared a worried glance, their faces grim. "We won't push you, Y/N," Blaise said, his voice gentle. "But we're concerned. We know you and Draco have a very....close relationship. We just want to see you happy again."
You sighed, your shoulders slumping in defeat. "I appreciate it, guys. I know you're trying to help. But Draco and I are done, and that's final."
As you turned away from them, your eyes landed on the books you had angrily shelved, their spines crooked and out of place. It was a reflection of the chaos inside you—a chaos that idiot Draco had caused and seemed to have no intention of fixing anytime soon.
Blaise and Theodore exchanged a meaningful glance, their faces filled with concern. "We'll give it one more shot," Theodore said, his voice unwavering. "We'll talk to him, try to talk some sense into that rascal."
You shook your head, a bitter smile on your lips. You knew there was no way they could possibly make Draco Malfoy apologize.  "Good luck with that. Draco's too stubborn for his own good. And even if he is sorry, he won't admit it. He's too proud for that."
Blaise placed a hand on your shoulder, his eyes filled with sympathy. "We'll see, Y/N. We know how to get through to him. And if he truly cares, he'll find a way to make things right."
And as you continued to shelve books, your anger slowly fading into sadness, you knew that Blaise and Theodore would do their best to mend the rift between you and Draco. But deep down, you weren't ready to forgive him, not yet. The hurt was still too raw, and the silence between you stretched on.
-
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allisonlol · 2 years
Note
Hello can I request Fyodor, Sigma and Nikolai when they see their s/o wiping of their kiss?
a/n: anon i just want you to know that this is probably one of my most fav requests ever?? plz it's so funny
warnings: none? maybe the tiniest bit suggestive in nikolai's
(Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma) When You Wipe Off Their Kiss
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Fyodor
first of all let me just say you got some nerve to do this to HIM
but regardless, you'd thought it'd be a funny lil prank to try in an attempt to get a reaction
on this day, fyodor had been holed up in his office for hours so you'd prepared some tea for him <3
you brought it to his office, and he gives you a quick smile as you place it on his desk
fyodor gestures for you to come closer before grabbing your arm and pulling you down to give you a kiss on the cheek
whispers "thank you dear" in your ear after too 😳
plz you almost get too distracted to follow thru with your prank. but you pull yourself together and stand back up, wiping off the kiss with the back of your hand
you act as if nothing happened tho, and say "you're welcome" with a smile before turning to leave again
fyodor stops typing for a second, and out of the corner of your eye you see him shoot you a glance
there's zero emotion on his face so you can't tell how he's feeling
since he doesn't say anything, you leave the room and it's a few more hours until you see him again
but once you do, this mf ignores you?? straight up walks past you without even a glance??
barely acknowledges you when you speak too; the most you'll get out of him is a hum in response 😥😥
fr gives you the cold shoulder until you come crying back to him about how it was a prank and that u want his affection again
fyodor stares down at you coldly until breaking into a smirk and pulling you against him, saying some "is this what you want now??"
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Nikolai
why would u wanna give this man an excuse to be even more annoying than he already is?? just kidding
you and nikolai have a history of playing pranks on each other so you figured this would be a great way to get back at him
so this night, once nikolai had gotten home from a day of wreaking havoc, he went to greet you & gave you a kiss on the cheek
you gave him one back but then immediately after wiped your cheek hella aggressive with your sleeve
obviously nikolai notices and he squints down at you before grabbing you and giving you two more kisses
but you wipe those off just as fast and that's when he's had enough 😐
crosses his arms all bitchily and looks away, saying some "well i guess i just won't give you a kiss ever again"
mf we know that is not true but go off
ur having too much fun to tell him it's a prank quite yet so you just smile at him and point to your cheek, asking for another
bro cracks immediately but instead of kissing your cheek he full on makes out with you?!
has a GRIP on your neck so we know damn well you aren't pulling away
after that you ain't even in the mood to continue the prank anymore...
nikolai may have caught onto your prank but hey, at least it ended up working out in your favor!
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Sigma
nooooo why would u do this to him
nikolai probably set you up to it ngl
you both were curious as to what his reaction would be, so you told nikolai you'd do it just so he'd shut up LMAO
on the day you decided to do it, you had just gotten off work and went to see sigma at the casino, per usual
you meet him in the manager's office, where he gets up to greet you and gives you a lil kiss on the forehead
pls, sigma was so happy to see you and you respond by feigning disgust and wiping off the kiss??
and i mean you SCRUBBED that shit off. pulled your sleeve over ur hand and wiped aggressively till ur forehead was bright red??
sigma just looks at you like "..." while his smile slowly fades 😕😕
"oh-i'm sorry? was there anything i did wrong...?"
omg stop he looks so sad & worried. like he reaches out a hand to touch you but then thinks better of it and pulls back
his hand is literally shaking bro apologize rn
now you feel really bad and don't even have the heart to continue the joke 😭
"honey...no. it was just a prank nikolai wanted me to do!" relief floods his face once you say that
later on, you explain to nikolai what had happened and he LOSES IT
meanwhile sigma's sitting in the back with his arms crossed, all huffy while you and nikolai laugh smh
taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie  @scul-pted @exorcisedstraydog  @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert  @stygianoir @sonder-paradise  @nervousyetconfidentway @beautiful-is-boring @alexaizawa @irethepotato @serenareiss
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mayfieldss · 4 months
Text
A case of probability - Will Hunting
Summary: After years of friendship, Will wants to know why you spend so much time with him, and he gets more than just an answer.
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"What're you doing today?" You're lying flat on the steps of Will's porch, staring up at the approaching clouds. It isn't comfortable, it can't be, but it makes Will smile as dodges your legs to sit on the steps with you.
"M'going to work, what'd you think?"
"Oh, of course, it's not like you have a life I'd be asking about or anything, jeez." You slap him on the shoulder, a gentle tap that turns into you grabbing his arm to pull yourself up. He lets you.
"Well, what're you doing today?" He raises a blonde brow, soft locks of hair framing his face.
"Going to work," you mutter, knowing the response you'll get before it happens. A smile has crept on your face to match the boy beside you as Will snorts, nudging you with his shoulder.
"You fucking hypocrite."
"You didn't let me finish!" You defend, and he's grinning, wide and bright as he allows you to plead your case.
"Alright then, what else are you doing today? Other than going to work." He's looking at you with a kind of intensity you've only ever seen in him. All eye contact and even breathing, gentle smiles that suggest he intends to hear every word you speak.
"I'm going to work, then I'm going to get lunch with you—"
"Woah, hold on. Why wasn't I informed that we were getting lunch together?" There's a genuine chuckle of disbelief, but you don't acknowledge him.
"After lunch, I'm gonna go back to work, and I'm going to go home, cook myself dinner, watch a movie, and go to bed."
"But apparently, you're getting lunch with me?" Will asks again, and there's something fluttering in his stomach he can't quite name. You stand as a car pulls up on the road, offering a hand to Will though he doesn't need your help to stand. He takes it anyway.
"We used to have lunch every Wednesday. Why don't we do that anymore?" He holds onto your hand a little longer than he should. You squeeze his own, and he lets go.
"Well, I guess I'll see you at twelve thirty." The horn of the car honks, Will's ride to work. It's Chuckie, impatient as ever.
"See you at twelve thirty, genius. Don't be late." You watch him go, jumping down the steps and sliding into the passenger seat of the car. Then you wander off, making your own way.
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"May I make an observation?" It's Chuckie, hardhat on his head as he watches Will, waiting for his friends full attention. He doesn't think he'll get it. He hasn't for a while.
"What?" Will checks his watch before turning to his friend, tired and hot from the day. It makes Chuckie laugh, just how oblivious Will can be.
"She's got you wrapped around her finger, you know that?"
"What? Who?"
The false sense of confusion is pointless, and only makes his friend smile wider.
"You know who, Will. She's got you all messed up and shit. You're her little lap dog or something, jeez. I'm surprised you haven't sucked face with her already." He's far too honest with the words but Chuck always is. Will is already well aware of his opinions on the subject, however, and he is also more than aware of his own feelings. The one thing he can't quite decipher is why on earth you picked him to be your "lap dog" (as chuckie would call it) in the first place. He's the definition of runt, stray, and mutt in his own words, yet you stick by him as though he's more.
"Look, Will," Chuckie speaks again after nothing but silence. "You like her, so grow some balls and take her out. On a real date. You got her number, her name, and her heart. What more do you need?"
Confirmation. That's what Will wants. An answer, a reason, as to why you chose him and keep choosing him again and again.
"You never shut up, you know that chuck?" It's all Will can think of to say, and it earns him a slap on the back of the head from his companion, but he doesn't mind. He has lunch with you in an hour, and maybe then he can get himself some answers.
For now, he works, and as the minutes pass, he thinks of everything he could say to you today and everything he's said to you in the past. As well as every word you've ever said to him. And when Lunch finally rolls around, he's perfectly on time, waiting for you outside the spot you used to meet. You smile as you greet him, and he's happy to see you. He's always happy to see you.
You sit down first and pull out the sandwiches you made that morning, offering one to Will, though he doesn't take it.
"You know, when you have lunch with someone you're supposed to actually eat, right?" The frown on your face is contradictory to the smile on your lips as you bite into your sandwich.
"Yeah, I know." He's scanning every detail of your face, despite the fact he has you memorized by now. "I'm just not too hungry."
"Well, you will be when you go back to work in an hour on an empty stomach." You cut in, trying to convince the boy to eat. You know he won't listen. Not when he has something on his mind, and you know that he does. "What're you thinking about, boy genius?"
You're on to him. That makes Will more confused than before—that you can read him so well without so much as a second thought.
"Why do you insist on spending time with me? like you wait around in the mornings for me to meet you on the steps, and you plan these little lunch dates like I'm your favorite person or something." He takes a breath, trying to find your reaction. Get something from you. "You're late to work every day because you make time to see me. Why?"
The way you're looking at him now is full of a devastating mix of emotions, but slowly, the smile you held before returns. It's soft, sweet.
"You are my favorite person, Will. I figured you were smart enough to figure that one out on your own, but I guess I have to spell it out for you, huh?"
There's heat in his cheeks, swarming there when your words reach his ears, and he tries to hide the fact his heart is beating in a new kind of way. But the side effects you have on him are endless, and he assumes that there isn't a cure he could find in the world for the lump in his throat.
"Jesus christ, I swear I'm going crazy." It's the last thing he mumbles before he leans in to kiss you, and he knows there's a fifty percent chance that you'll pull away, but you don't. You flinch back only slightly before you realise you want this just as much, and in no time, you're practically climbing him like a tree.
Your lips on his, face burning with the thrill of it. Your hair tangled in his fingers as he holds on to you, his life dependent on it. It's messy, teeth knocking against each other, tongues meeting briefly as breaths are shared. But it's fun, and it's most definitely you and Will as a whole. Your lipgloss tastes like gingerbread, and as you pull away for air, Will can't help but laugh. You have well and truly climbed him, and are settled on his lap precariously in the park at which you sit. Your hair is a mess, and he has no doubt his locks look similar to yours. But it's weird how quick it all happened, not your relationship rather, but how easy it was to devoure each other once the time was right. Five years of friendship and a thousand lunch dates later led seemingly to you, with your arms over Will's shoulders, your fingers tickling the nape of his neck. Led to you, perched awkwardly on top of him, your lipgloss staining his face, and his hand squeezing your hip with a kind of affection he'd never given you before.
Of all the outcomes Will had gone over to explain away this situation, he never thought he'd end up in a position such as this. But he likes it, and he wants to do this and a lot more, over and over again.
"Right," you mutter, lips still so close to his. "as enjoyable as that was, a lunch date must include the actual consumption of lunch." You remove yourself from him then, flopping down by his side as you were before like nothing had happened. But the swell of your lips says something different.
"I don't know. You look like a whole meal, in my opinion, and I'm pretty sure you were close to consuming me just now." Will mumbles, part wanting to keep the words to himself and the other half of him wanting nothing more than to see your reaction.
"Shut up and eat your sandwich." You mutter, throwing the bread at him with full force. It hits him on the cheek before falling into his lap, and this time, he takes the sandwich with no hesitation. He unwraps it carefully, laughing quietly every so often with each glance he takes of you.
Today hadn't gone how he'd pictured it, but it might just be the best day of his life.
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Reblogs and comments are appreciated!!!
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salaapaoo · 1 year
Text
You know what??
De-aged Cale where its roksoo right??
He's sitting there anxiously as the adults discuss what the do with him. It's happening again. He knows they're going to get rid of him like some old, unwanted toy.
His stomach gurgles and growls. He keeps his eyes trained on the shoes everyone is wearing, ears burning. How embarrassing... He's usually better than this.
He jumps when a pair of shoes move in front of him. It's hard to hear what's going on when the cotton in your ears keep blooming. Suddenly, he's face to face with an old man... whose smile is.. pretty scary. Not that he'll say anything about it though. He can't figure out where to place his eyes. Adults don't like it when he looks at them in the eyes. They say he's being defiant, that they don't like the way he looks at them. But then they don't like it when he doesn't look them in the eye, something about finding the situation unimportant. He doesn't know what to do... So his eyes jump from meeting the old man's and back to things around the room. Back and forth, back and forth.
"young master," the man starts, "why don't you follow my son to the kitchen? My son, Beacrox, will get you something good to eat."
Oh! He can do that. He's been in kitchens before, so he willed himself to meet the man's gaze one last time before giving a small, but firm nod. Then, he hops off the plush couch and trails after the guy who must be Beacrox.
This man is stoic looking and not much of a talker. It's okay though, he isn't much of a talker either. They walk in silence to the kitchen, he tries to keep his breathing in check as he jogs to keep pace with the man. His steps must be too loud though since the man turns towards him and then slows his pace. So nice!!
Even when they get there, the man still hasn't said anything. He stands at the doorway, unsure of what he's needed for. The kitchen is clean... Extremely clean. How will he earn his food? What is he supposed to be doing here??
We makes his way up to the counter where he finds a rag. That'll do!! He takes it and wets it in the sink before making his way back to the sitting area. He drops to his hands and knees and begins to scrub at the already clean floor. The adults at home say that even if it looks clean, it's never clean enough! So surely this should be enough to earn his keep.
He hears a clatter and startles as the knife falls to the floor. The man's face isn't stoic anymore. The man is mad?? Is he cleaning wrong?? Roksoo is scared.
The man storms up to him and begins to reach out towards him. Roksoo fails to hold back a flinch. He's messed up, adults don't like it when he's scared. He squeezed his eyes shut, in hopes of hurting less.
Nothing comes. The pain never comes. Only a warm hand on his head?? He slowly opens his eyes and meets Beacrox 's. There's nothing, but hurt and anger swirling in the man's eyes. Why's he sad? Roksoo doesn't understand.
"young master..." Beacrox sounds strained. Again with that weird title.
Roksoo wordlessly watches the chef try to string together words. His own throat feeling too clogged up to ask what he did wrong.
He manages though.
"why.. why are you sad?" His words come out like small croaks. It's getting hard to speak again. Adults don't like it when he can't speak.
Beacrox's eyes just fill with more hurt, hurt, hurt as he opens and closes his mouth uselessly.
He seems to figure out what he wants to say though.
"young master, why are you on the ground?" Beacrox keeps his voice soft, keeps his tone open and forgiving.
"I didn't know what else I could do," he confesses like he's sinned. His eyes make their way back to anything other than the other's.
Beacrox brews silently, waiting for his master to finish his thoughts. Beacrox doesn't like where this is going.
"how else can I earn.." roksoo's palms feel sweaty where they're clenched at his sides.
"I don't deserve food yet," roksoo's words are firm and believing as he meets Beacrox's eyes.
The man's eyes seem to tremble as he processes what roksoo had said.
(Beacrox wants to skin whoever taught his young master this. He wants to make them beg for the sweet release of death as he slowly guides them towards it. Having them teeter on the edge of death and consciousness).
He snaps out of thought, saving them for later. The others will be hearing of this, they can all come up with the plans together.
"young master," Beacrox hopes his words will reach the boys heart, "you deserve everything."
He watches as the boy takes his bottom lip captive between his teeth. How the boy clenches at the hems of his shirt and tries to calm his breathing. How the boy is trying to blink away tears, but is failing.
"you are worthy" he whispers, removing a glove to pat roksoo's head. Beacrox looks seconds away from jumping back and escaping. Roksoo let's put a shaky laugh at the thought.
Right now it's hard to believe, but.. he wants to. He wants to believe that Beacrox is right. He'll try...
But he still follows Beacrox back to the counter and begs to help. He feels too antsy not doing anything.
All he's handed is a small bowl of snacks and he's told his job is to finish them by the time the meal is done cooking. He feels his heart swell. Roksoo feels like his heart is doing flips in his chest. He feels so safe.
-
Feeling like I probably post too much on this,, but I will.. continue. :)
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