Tumgik
#but then i started panicking because i thought it was going to be like.. used against me
everscorner · 2 days
Text
Something In The Way You Move | The Redemption
Author’s note: I struggled writing this next instalment, and there was a lot of chopping and changing, so apologies for the late update. There’s one final part after this, and the plan is to have it out by mid-May. In terms of their apartment, this is how I pictured it but feel free to switch it up. This is only for fictional purposes only, but please don’t copy my work without my permission. Enjoy 🤎
Warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive/implied smut, bad language, couple reconciling, side chick confrontation, some relationship issues, minors DNI (let me know if I missed anything)
famous!Reader x Jude Bellingham Word count: 8k words
///
‘So, Bestie,’ Winnie starts, ‘what’s the plan? And how are we going to pull this off?’
That’s a good question: how will you break the big news to Jude? It’s been five torturous days since the positive pregnancy test and you’re yet to tell him about it. The timing just hasn’t been right, and the next bit’ll sound silly, but you’ve kept this from him because you don’t want to take the attention from him. 
His first season at Real Madrid has exceeded all your wildest expectations, and you just wanted him to celebrate it all without detracting from it with the baby news. 
Girlfriend of the Year, right?
‘To be honest, Wins, I haven’t thought about it.’ 
You’re standing in the kitchen waiting for the water in the kettle to boil and Winnie’s in the living room, her limbs stretched out on the sectional as she mindlessly browses through one of the coffee table books. 
Your best friend’s in town for work, and earlier today, she actually filmed a couple of scenes with you for the show, and that’s when you told her about the pregnancy. 
Off camera, of course. However, looking back at the moment, you regret not filming it. 
Between filming your scenes, you quietly pulled Winnie to the side and showed her the sonogram you now carry around in your bag, and her reaction was exactly what you expected it to be and more. There was squealing, excited jumping, and there were lots and lots of tears shed between the two of you. 
‘Okay, well, when do you plan to tell him?’
Tonight. You think enough time has passed and yesterday, you went to your first doctor’s appointment and confirmed that you were indeed pregnant, but despite your excitement, you kept the news from Jude because you wanted the announcement to be well thought out—special.
Also, there has been so much distance between you, you’re hoping that the baby news could be the catalyst to bring you two together because you kinda miss being close to him. 
‘I’ll be honest with you, Y/N/N, that doesn’t give us much time to plan it.’ 
Winnie makes a good point, but you’re not looking for perfection, all that matters is that he knows. 
‘Well,’ the kettle boils and you walk over to where it sits on the counter to grab it, ‘it depends on what we decide on.’
You start pouring the boiling liquid into the cups.
‘My only request is that we incorporate the sonogram.’ 
‘Wouldn’t it be cute if we could find a pair of infant football boots?’ 
It’s kinda cheesy—very cheesy, actually—but you like the idea. A lot. 
‘Yeah, that’s a good idea. We’re getting somewhere with this.’
It’s almost hard to believe that you’re standing here, plotting out a way to tell Jude that you’re expecting. 
If someone had come up to you the night you first met him and told you that in two years, you’d be standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment in Madrid, planning a pregnancy reveal, you would’ve called them a liar. 
Excuse your French, but. . . ‘Holy fuck, Wins, I’m pregnant.’ 
It’s like it’s hitting you for the first time. 
Winnie laughs, amused by your sudden realisation. ‘I can’t explain it, right? But it feels like a teen pregnancy.’ 
There’s no need for her to explain it further ‘cause you know exactly what she means. When you first saw the positive pregnancy test—you know, after your initial shock—you first panicked about how your family would react to the news. 
You had to take a moment to stop and remind yourself that even though you’re still so young, you’re more than capable of raising this child. 
With Jude’s assistance, of course.
‘Do you want to record it?’
‘Record what?’ 
You take the steaming mugs from the island and make your way over to the living room, where you place them onto the coffee table. 
‘The moment you tell him. Not for Netflix,’ she clarifies, ‘but you know, home videos or whatever.’ 
Yeah, you’re definitely keeping this one in the family. Maybe if the show gets renewed for a second season. . . but you’re jumping the gun. 
‘I want to, but’ you look around the ostentatiously decorated main living space ‘where can we put the camera? I don’t want him to see it.’ 
‘We’ll figure it out.’ 
Winnie’s composure is just what you need right now. You can always count on her to be calm in stressful situations. 
‘Is your camera charged?’
You’ll have to check. It’s been some time since you last used it. Part of your job is that you’re a part time YouTuber, it’s something you dabble in because you like filming and editing. . . all that jazz, but lately, your channel has taken the backseat. 
Why vlog this period of your life when they can catch it on Netflix when the show comes out? 
‘Come,’ Winnie shifts to make space for you on the couch. 
You take your seat next to her and by the time you settle, she’s already got her phone out, with her Pinterest open. 
‘What’s that for?’
‘Well, something’s got to inspire us.’ 
Duh. It must be the pregnancy fog. 
‘Don’t worry,’ she assures. ‘We’ve got this.’
And got this you do. A half hour and two cold teas later, there’s a plan, but this plan requires you to leave the house. 
Booooo! 
You’re not too keen on the impromptu outing, but there are baby football boots to be bought, and at least you’ll have Winnie there with you. 
‘Well, that was easy.’
You beg to differ, but whatever. 
Winnie locks her phone and sets it on the couch, ‘When’s The Boy coming home?’
You’re not sure when it started, but Winnie now refers to Jude as “The Boy” which you find to be endearing. 
Probably late. He’s out with Toby and Noah, and he mentioned something about his other teammates joining them, but you weren’t really paying attention. 
‘I’m not sure.’ 
And it’s not something you wish to discuss further because the thought fills you with dread. It’s been days since your discovery but given the circumstances, there has been no time to sit down and talk about Coralie. 
The result of that is that whenever he goes out—and he’s been going out plenty to celebrate his victorious season—you can’t help but feel anxious that he might cheat on you again. 
Surely this is no way to live. 
‘But it doesn’t matter, does it?’ you rise off of the couch and start for the bedroom. 
Naturally, Winnie’s trailing after you and you just know that this conversation is far from over. She’s persistent. 
‘It doesn’t, but I think you should ask him.’ 
She makes it sound so simple. And you guess it is simple, he is your boyfriend after all, it’s your privilege to call or text him whenever and wherever. 
‘We don’t want any surprises.’
You don’t, but if he does walk into something he’s not supposed to walk into, that’s all on him. 
‘I don’t think it’s necessary, really.’
Inside the walk-in closet, you start stripping out of your house sweats to change into something appropriate. Once upon a time, you could leave your house in your house clothes without the fear of being pasted on the MailOnline and labelled “dowdy” and “unkempt”.
But that was a long time ago.  
‘Oooh, what’s this?’
Winnie finds herself distracted by the Chloé box that’s sitting on the closet island. 
‘Oh, yeah, that’s a PR box they sent me on Monday,’ you state matter-of-factly. 
She opens it and gasps when she sees what’s inside the large box. 
‘What the. . .’ 
‘It’s crazy, right?’ 
She turns to you in utter disbelief. ‘They gifted these to you?’ 
You hum.
She grunts and confesses, ‘I’m so jealous of you right now.’ 
Twelve full sized perfumes, all gifted to you by the brand. 
You tell her to take a bottle, and of course, she’s over the moon. And it earns you the title of World’s Best Best Friend. 
‘Well, I still think you should text him,’ she states as she tests the different scents. 
And here you thought she had forgotten about that. 
‘Just so we have an idea.’ 
You don’t really want to send the text, but you don’t want to raise any alarms with your friend. Lately, things between you and Jude have been far from perfect, but you’d prefer to keep your relationship problems from the world—even if it’s Winnie and she’s your best friend. 
‘Yeah, alright.’ 
Your phone’s in the living room, so you have to leave the closet to grab it, and when you come back, Winnie’s discovered your new Chanel handbag—a gift from Jude. 
‘He bought this for you?’ 
‘Yeah,’ but you’re not trying to make a big deal of it. 
Jude bought the bag for you about a month ago. At the time, it seemed so random—his urge to buy such an expensive gift on a whim—, but after seeing those text messages, you know it was the guilt that made him do it. 
‘Lucky bitch.’
‘I’ve been telling you to bag yourself a baller,’ you tease as you take your seat on one of the ottomans. 
You: Hey, when are you coming back tonight?
You read over the text to make sure you’re not coming off as desperate. . . a nag. But whatever, the text needs to be sent, and the way he interprets it is up to him. 
He doesn’t immediately respond, but you don’t expect him to. He never does when he’s out. 
You take a final look in the mirror. You look so good, it’s almost hard to believe that the look was put together in ten minutes. And you’d take a picture to post on your story, but there’s no time for that now. 
‘You ready, Wins?’ 
She smiles, ‘Ready.’ 
‘Alright then, let’s go.’ 
///
When he did finally respond to your text, Jude said that he’d try to be home by midnight, which gave you more than enough time to prepare for the reveal. 
For her visit, Winnie will be staying at the apartment with you, but she’s gone out because she’s not pregnant and she’s actually got a life. However, she did help you set everything up for the reveal, which you appreciated because she came with all the good ideas. 
Like she suggested that you do it in your closet as opposed to the kitchen, where you had initially planned to do it, because the lighting and acoustics were better. 
And now it’s a little past eleven o’clock and you’re rewatching an old episode of your favourite series. Earlier in the night—after Winnie left—you filmed a night time routine vlog for your TikTok, which you should be working on editing, but can’t be bothered about.
Waiting for Jude to come home has reduced you to a ball of anxiety, and despite your eyelids getting heavier and heavier with each passing minute, you simply can’t make yourself fall asleep. However, one thing’s certain, no pregnancy reveal will be done tonight. 
Damn him, and damn your feelings for him.
You can’t believe he’s once again ditched you for his friends this week. It’s disrespectful at this point, but the worst part? 
You keep allowing him to get away with it. 
But what can you do, leave him? As if that’s an option for you. The love you feel for him runs so deep, you can’t bring yourself to imagine a life without him in it, especially with the baby coming. So apologies to all the feminists of the world, but your love for this man surpasses all reasoning. 
Your phone dings with a notification and you quickly grab it, hoping to find a text from him—you’ll take an incoherent drunken text at this point, anything—but instead it’s Winnie asking if he’s home yet. 
Fuck. 
You: Not yet, but soon :) 
You hope. 
She’ll never confront you about it, but you think that Winnie suspects that things aren’t good between you and Jude. The lack of calls and texts throughout the day was a dead giveaway. The two of you can’t get enough of each other, and even when you’re apart, you’re constantly updating each other one way or another so the silence was deafening.
But whatever, right? 
People across the world experience relationship problems every day. You’re not the first couple to experience this, and you’re certainly not the last. You just wish that your relationship problems weren’t because he stepped out on you. 
‘Babe?’ 
And now your mind’s playing tricks on you, because you swear you can hear him–
‘Y/N?’
Oh shit, he’s home!
You quickly reach for your phone to check the time: 11:26.
Fuck! 
In the last text you sent him almost an hour ago now, you gave him strict instructions to text you before he left the club. 
Guess he didn’t catch that text. 
‘Baby?’ he calls for you again, but his voice sounds distant, so you figure you have enough time to do what it is that you have to do.  
But you’ve got to move fast, so you clamber off of the bed, and scurry to your closet. You head straight to the camera, which you’ve carefully propped on your Louis Vuitton jewellery box, and switch it on to start recording. 
This probably isn’t the best of angles, but so long as it captures his reaction, hopefully with his face in the frame. 
‘Baaaaybeeee?’ 
His voice sounds closer now. 
‘In the closet, babe,’ you finally call back, then internally brace yourself for what’s to follow. 
With Jude, the plan was always to get married and have children, but the when was never discussed in detail. 
‘Why are you hiding in here?’ 
Some of that anxiety leaves your body at the sight of him. He’s beaming at you, so visibly happy to see you. 
‘Hiya.’
This man has seen you in all kinds of vulnerable situations, why are you so shy all of a sudden? 
As he closes the distance between you, you notice that his eyes are kinda red and glossy, the only sign of his intoxication. When he reaches you, his smile widens—if that’s even possible—and he leans forward to connect your foreheads. 
‘Hi, gorgeous.’ 
He smells of mint with the faint scent of alcohol, and a smell you can only describe as Jude on a night out. 
With your eyes shut, you deeply inhale the comforting scent, happy to have him back home. 
‘Hey, why are you hiding in here?’ he asks again, his words running into each other, the second sign. 
‘Uh, ‘cause.’
You weren’t anticipating that question, and you don’t know how to answer it. 
‘“‘Cause?”’ he chuckles. 
You hum.
‘Come here,’ he envelops you in his large and strong arms, practically suffocating you but you can’t bring yourself to tell him to release you because you’ve missed his affection and the intimacy.
You fear you’re starting to sound like a broken record. 
‘How was it?’
‘How was what?’
‘The club?’
‘Fine.’ 
And that’s all he’s willing to offer.
‘I thought you said Winnie was staying over?’ 
She is, she’s just gone to a party with the new guy she’s seeing. 
‘And you didn’t join her?’ 
‘No.’ 
You give him a half-baked explanation for why you didn’t, but all you’re thinking is how this isn’t going the way you hoped for it to go. This isn’t what the other significant others did in the videos you watched earlier.
But how do you save it?
‘Why are you asking about her?’
‘Just curious, I guess.’ 
‘Alright then,’ you fist his jacket in your hand. ‘It’s good to have you back home.’
He likes that, you know that because his heart rate picks up. Things are still a bit awkward between you, but that’s to be expected since you haven’t been talking much. 
With your arms around his neck, you press onto your toes and crane your neck to peck him on the lips. ‘And actually, babe, there’s something I want to show you.’
Jude tenses up at that, but it’s so subtle, if you weren’t in his arms, you would’ve missed it. 
‘You do?’ 
And like magic, he’s sobered up. Only a bit though. 
‘Don’t worry,’ you assure him, amused. ‘It’s nothing bad.’ 
Your assurance does nothing to ease his wound up body. 
‘Jude, relax. . . please.’ 
Still tense. Whatever, you won’t dwell on his anxiety. 
With a final peck to his lips, you step away from him and direct his attention to the island, where the football booties you went out to buy earlier are placed next to a toddler Real Madrid jersey, a positive pregnancy test—you took another one a couple of hours ago—and the sonogram.
‘Surprise,’ you say softly. 
You want to sound excited, but it just comes out dejected.
You watch as he takes it in, your heart hammering against your chest. Unfortunately for you, you only have a view of his side profile but even from this angle, you can see that his usually expressive face is perfectly still. You can’t read him, and it feels like an eternity before he turns to face you.
‘Is this for real?’ 
You nod, the lump that has found a home in your throat making it hard to speak. Your vision’s also blurred, courtesy of the tears that have pooled in your eyes. 
‘It is?’
The first tear falls. 
‘Oh, baby.’ 
Jude lifts you into his arms and squeezes all the air from your lungs. 
Man, he’s so strong. 
Then he sort of holds you like that for a long time, and the next thing you know, your neck is damp. 
‘Babe, are you. . are you crying?’ 
He denies it, but you can feel the damp spot grow with each passing second you’re in his arms. Oh goodness, he is. 
‘I think you are.’ 
‘Shut up,’ he mutters, his voice muffled. 
You giggle when he tickles you. 
His reaction’s quite the relief and it feels like a ginormous load has been lifted off your shoulders. In terms of his reaction, you weren’t sure what to expect, but this is the best reaction possible, and as he holds you, all the lingering resentment about his past transgressions are forgotten.
Eventually, he sets you down to reveal his red rimmed eyes and similarly hued nose. 
‘How far along are you?’ 
Seven weeks and three days today, according to your doctor. When Dr Hernandez told you, you couldn’t believe you were so far along and didn’t notice. 
‘That’s what, almost two months?’ 
In defence of you though, between your work and Jude’s chaotic football schedule, you’ve been out of touch with your body. 
‘Did you know?’
‘I suspected it.’ You tell him about the morning after that night when you noticed that your period was late.  ‘I wanted to tell you, but I wanted to take the test first.’
‘And why didn’t you tell me after?’ 
‘I wanted the doctor to confirm it.’ 
You’ve grown so tired of standing, so you sit on the carpeted floor of the closet, and Jude joins you, pushing the ottoman to one side so that he can lean against the island. 
‘I called Dr Morena who referred me to Dr Hernandez.’
He scowls, ‘Who’s that?’ 
‘My obstetrician.’
The scowl deepens.
You sigh, ‘The doctor who’ll care for me during the pregnancy.’
‘Oh.’ With his legs spread and stretched out before him, he pulls you into him and sets you between them. ‘And you said that Dr Morena referred you to this. . .’
‘Obstetrician.’
‘Yeah, that.’
You hum in agreement as you rest your back against his torso. 
Dr Morena is your family GP.  
There’s a silent beat then he asks, ‘So he knew before me?’
‘Winnie too,’ you turn your head so that you’re partially facing him. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Winnie knew before me?’ 
The offence is evident in his voice.
‘I had to tell her,’ you defend, but this isn’t where you want to steer the conversation. ‘She helped me set this all up.’
He grunts.
‘Are you mad at me?’ 
‘Kinda.’ 
Well, now you feel bad. 
‘I’m sorry,’ you sit up and turn to face him, maintaining eye contact as you explain, ‘Had I known it would’ve offended you, I wouldn’t have done it.’
But she was so integral in all of this, a part of you’s glad you did. . . 
‘Oh, come on, Jude.’
He’s pouting, your big baby.
‘Cheer up, will you?’ you straddle him, cupping his face to gently stroke his cheek with your thumb. ‘I’m really sorry.’
It’s about another minute of silence and avoided eye contact, and you’re about to give up and on the verge of tears when: 
‘Babe, I’m only messing with you.’ 
A quiet beat, then there’s relief, followed by loud laughter. 
‘That wasn’t funny,’ you grouse, slapping him lightly on his chest. ‘I almost cried, you know.’
‘Come here,’ he pulls you into him. 
The traces of alcohol still linger in his speech, but he’s significantly sobered up since he got home ten minutes ago. 
‘I can’t believe you’re pregnant.’ 
And you can’t remember the last time Jude was this excited about something outside of football. His reaction almost makes you wish you had waited to share the news with him on his birthday, but that wouldn’t have worked because he’ll be in Germany then with the national team for the Euros. 
‘What are you thinking?’ 
‘How the pill doesn’t work a hundred percent,’ you pull away. 
But then again, with all the jet setting you’ve been doing, you probably weren’t taking it at the same time every day. 
With a flash of his signature smile, he concurs. 
‘My knees are starting to hurt,’ you announce as you move off of his lap and back to your previous spot between his legs. 
Jude places a hand over your stomach, and with your hands over his larger ones, you move them lower to the pelvic area.
‘There.’ 
He chuckles. ‘You know, I always dreamed of being a young dad.’
You didn’t know this about him.
‘Not at twenty-one,’ he continues, ‘but you know, in my twenties.’ 
It’s comforting to know that this baby fits into his life plan. 
‘How about you?’
‘I don’t know,’ you admit after a moment of consideration.
You’re still wrapping your head around the turn your life’s taken. The WAG thing kinda blindsided you, the fame too. The craziest part of this all is that you’ve made a career of it, built an entire brand. 
‘But I’m not mad at this plot twist.’ 
‘Our kid’s a plot twist?’ he chuckles. 
You nod. ‘Clearly we weren’t paying attention in sex education.’ 
He kisses the top of your head. 
‘Dr Hernandez said that the baby’s about the size of a blueberry,’ you tell him.
It’s such a random fact, but you feel compelled to share it with him. 
‘That’s really tiny.’
‘Right?’ 
Jude keeps rubbing over the area, and you have an inkling he’ll make a habit of this. 
Some minutes pass, and then you remember that the camera’s still going, so you excuse yourself from Jude. 
‘Where’re you going?’ 
His grip is firm around your waist. 
‘I’m going to get the camera.’
He looks confused, but he releases you. On bended knees, you shuffle over to the other end of the island to quickly grab it, but you don’t stop the recording. When you get back to Jude, you find him in a daze, silently staring at the sonogram in his hand. 
‘She’s so tiny,’ he comments when you sit at your previous spot, facing him. 
‘She?’ 
Talk about wanting to be a girl dad.
‘You think the baby’s a girl?’ 
He looks up to find a camera in his face. ‘What, you think it’s a boy?’
You shrug, you haven’t actually given it much thought. ‘Well, do you think you can handle a mini me?’
He makes a face. 
‘Ah, take it back,’ you giggle. 
He takes the camera and turns the lens to you. ‘Well, now I’m asking you. Y/N, do you think Baby Bellingham’s a girl or a boy?’ 
You pause to think about it. A mini you or a mini Jude, how difficult. ‘Well, I’m going the opposite, I think Baby Bellinghamʼs a boy.’
You snuggle into him, ear pressed against his chest, camera still in your face, but you’re both in the frame. One fact people don’t know about your boyfriend is that he’s a master vlogger, and he’s actually recorded many segments for your vlogs that will never see the light of day because when it comes to Jude, you’re a shameless gatekeeper. 
‘I want to shower before bed,’ he proclaims once the recording has stopped. ‘Join me?’ 
You’ve already taken your shower, but you figure a second one wouldn’t hurt. Jude takes your hand and leads you out of the closet and into the bathroom, where you strip out of your clothes. 
‘Is it my imagination, or are your boobs getting bigger?’
Huh? 
You look down at your exposed breasts, ‘Are you joking?’
‘No, I’m not,’ with a hand on each shoulder, he turns you towards the mirror. ‘Look.’ 
You’re looking at them, but they still look the same to you, but he’s adamant. Then, in a move you deem perverted—in a good way, of course—, he cups them in his hands. 
‘What are you doing?’ At this point, you can’t contain your laughter. 
‘How are you not seeing this?’ 
He must’ve drank more than you realise, because what the fuck is this? 
‘Are you high?’ 
His face twists with disapproval, ‘No, why?’ 
‘The boobs,’ you turn to him, ‘what’s with the sudden fascination with them?’
‘I like your boobs, you know this.’ 
You do. And you like his butt. 
‘Come,’ you wrap your hand around his wrist and pull him into the shower. ‘I think you’re tired.’
And horny. 
You turn the faucet to run the water. 
As you’d imagine, not much showering is done. 
‘Careful not to wet your hair,’ you warn him, but it’s too late.
‘I don’t care,’ he says flippantly as he takes your face between his hands and leans over to kiss you. 
This is not what you came here to do. 
You’re both covered in suds. 
‘Jude, I need to rinse my body.’
‘Later,’ he mutters against your lips. 
‘Jude!’ you squeal. 
He’s such a Silly Billy when he wants to be.
You gasp into his passionate kiss when you suddenly feel the cold shower wall against your back. In a swift and slick movement, Jude trails kisses across your left shoulder and you tilt your head to one side to give him better access to your neck.
A soft moan escapes your parted lips as he sucks on the sensitive skin. 
‘Jude. . .’
You want to tell him to stop, but the hand on his naked lower back pulls him into to you. 
He hums into the kiss as his hand moves up your body to cup your boob, ‘Tonight, you’ve made me the happiest man alive.’ 
His vulnerability catches you off guard, how can you not give into him. . .
///
For breakfast this morning, you’re making honey butter toast using a recipe you found on the internet. It’s your first time making it and you’re not entirely sure what you’re doing here, but Jude saw it on Pinterest the other week and begged you to make it, so that’s what he’ll have for breakfast. 
It’s a simple enough recipe, but knowing you and your iffy cooking skills, this could either be a major success or an epic fail—nothing in the middle. If it does fail though, you’ve got the regular bacon and egg fry-up on standby. 
But only positive thoughts in this kitchen. 
You’ve got your favourite morning playlist going softly in the background, and today’s what you consider the perfect Saturday morning. The sun is fully out, and the expansive windows of the apartment allow for the natural light to pour into the space and warms it. 
You put the toast into the oven and set the timer. 
At the end of the summer, your lease for this apartment will be up, but the likelihood of you extending it has significantly shrunk with the latest development in your life. The song goes, “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Y/N with a baby carriage,” but you’ve skipped parts, so some things need to be shifted around. 
That means that the house hunting that you’ve been putting off needs to start. . . now, really. 
This is where Coralie comes in handy, but you’re not talking to her. She actually reached out to you Sunday morning to apologise for your awkward encounter at the restaurant that night. Her text read: 
Coralie: Last night, I overstepped and I’m really sorry and embarrassed by my actions. Please forgive me. 
You’re yet to respond to the text, but you don’t plan to anytime soon because you don’t accept her stupid apology. As far as you’re concerned, she’s an insignificant homewrecker. She is two-faced and vindictive and incredibly cruel for subjecting you to such humiliation. 
She laughed with you, acted like a friend when she was fucking your man behind your back for six months. 
‘Bitch,’ you mumble as you load the dishes into the wash.
But she’s not worth the time, emotions, nor the energy. So with a deep breath, you bop thoughts of her out of your mind, and move on with your day. 
Easy. 
A half hour later, breakfast is ready to be served. You’ve gone all out with this meal, and it would be an absolute shame to not take a picture to post onto your IG story. Very quickly, you snap a picture to post later, and take the food to your sleeping boyfriend before the ice-cream starts to melt. 
He’s still fast asleep, but he’s since shifted sleeping positions, and he’s hugging your pillow. 
How cute? 
When he wakes up, you expect him to be hungover and grouchy from all his boozing, and you just know he’ll play it up for attention. If there’s one thing you know about your boyfriend it’s that he dies for attention, and he simply cannot resist being babied. 
‘Wakey wakey sleepyhead.’ 
You place the heavy tray onto the bedside table, on the other side of it to avoid it getting bumped by mistake, and attempt to wake him again. 
Still, nothing. 
‘Jude,’ you mount him, peppering a million tiny kisses against the side of his pretty face. Even in his slumber, he looks perfect. ‘Come on, you got your eight hours, it’s time to wake up.’ 
He grunts, then sends you away. 
‘But I got food,’ you object with feigned sadness. 
But he doesnʼt budge. 
Alright, sweet coaxing out the window. ‘Babe, I made honey butter toast and the ice-cream’s rapidly melting. Wake up.’ 
There’s another silent beat and then, ‘What the hell is that?’ 
Of course he doesn’t remember what it is.
‘Honey butter toast,’ you repeat, as if it’ll somehow miraculously make him know what it is. ‘That bread you saw on Pinterest and begged me to make.’
He’s still clueless, but at least you’ve got his attention. Finally, with a long groan, he sits up, moving cautiously to not send you tumbling to the floor. 
‘What time is it?’
‘Ten.’ 
He cusses softly as he rubs his face. ‘I’m supposed to meet with my parents at eleven.’
You didn’t know that. 
But it’s clearly nothing pressing because he doesn’t seem fazed by the fact that he’s running late. He yawns, rubs his eyes and face some more, then turns to you—sitting comfortably on his lap—and smiles. ‘Good morning.’ 
You mirror his expression. ‘Morning. You hungry?’
‘Starving. What’s for breakfast?’
‘Here,’ you slide off his lap to take the tray and hand it to him. ‘It’s my first time making it, so be nice.’
He assesses the tray of food you’ve placed before him, then looks back up at you. ‘Nine out of ten for the presentation.’
Your brows furrow, ‘Why not ten?’ 
‘Some of the ice-cream has melted and it looks a bit sloppy.’ 
‘Yeah, and who’s fault is that?’ 
He lets out a hearty laugh, but you’re not amused by this judge. 
You climb back onto the bed, your eyes fixed on Jude as he puts the first forkful of the honey butter toast, with a little bit of the vanilla ice-cream and salted caramel sauce, into his mouth.
He chews, then he moans, his eyes widen, more chewing, and then finally, he swallows. 
This is a good reaction. 
‘You like it?’ 
‘I love it,’ he cuts another piece of the toast. ‘Ten out of ten for the taste. Did you make the ice-cream and caramel sauce yourself?’
‘Alright, Paul Hollywood.’ You grab the extra fork you had on the tray and dig in—curious about the taste—and are met with protests from Jude. ‘I just want a little taste.’ 
‘Get your own.’ 
Your bottom lip juts out, it’s your turn to pout. ‘Yeah, but I’m pregnant.’ 
With a heavy sigh, he proclaims, ‘And so it starts.’
You can’t help but laugh at his solemn tone. 
The two of you remain in bed, even after he’s finished having his breakfast, because his outing with his parents has now been postponed to two o’clock. If it were any other day, you’d join them, but you promised to accompany Winnie to the art gallery and you don’t think you can get out of it. 
Turning into your side, Jude questions, ‘Why does she have to go to the art gallery?’ 
Because she’s in her art girl era, inspired by her latest fling, an up-and-coming visual artist from Portugal. His name’s Baltasar, and they met at Coachella a couple months back, and lately, he’s all she ever talks about. You think she’s in love. 
‘A visual artist?’ 
‘Yep.’ 
‘So he’s broke?’ 
‘Hey, don’t be mean,’ you chide. 
He doesn’t care though, he thinks it’s funny. 
‘You’re such an asshole, d’you know that?’ 
‘Babe, I’m just kidding.’ 
Yeah, right. 
‘Well, she really likes him so if she mentions it to you, keep the bad jokes to yourself.’ 
‘Noted,’ his mouth connects with your cheek.
The conversation smoothly transitions from Winnie’s new boyfriend to Jobe, who’s relentlessly trying to convince his older brother to take a short trip to Ibiza before he has to report for international duty. You think it’s a great idea, a final hoorah before it gets serious again.
‘Will you come with?’
‘Ibiza sober? Count me out.’
‘I’ll drink for the both of us.’ 
‘Uh, definitely not,’ your fingers glide up and down his naked back. ‘And I think Jobe wants this to be a boy’s trip. No girlfriends.’
‘But you’re not my girlfriend.’ 
Huh? ‘I’m not?’ 
‘You recently got upgraded to baby mum.’ 
He’s an idiot. Who even laughs at their own jokes this much? Either way, you’re not going to Ibiza with them. It’s another half hour of mindless chatter before you ask,
‘What time is it?’ 
‘Early.’ 
‘Jude, I’m being serious,’ you reach blindly for your phone and find it on the other end of the bed. ‘I need to start getting ready.’ 
‘Can’t you postpone it for another day?’
‘Winnie leaves tomorrow night.’ 
But he’s not budging, and so you have to use all of your might to shove him off of you. 
Your strength leaves him shook. ‘Where’d that come from?’ 
‘It’s all those training sessions you’re paying for.’
He swells with pride—men. 
‘Will you join me?’
Jude perks up. 
‘But we’re only showering, nothing else.’ 
And he’s dejected. 
‘I’ll just sit on the side and watch.’ 
That’s fine by you. 
He follows you into the bathroom, and you think you hear him mumble something about you making it worth his while. 
///
What your gallery date conveniently forgot to mention was that Baltasar would be joining your gallery excursion. Had you known he’d be here, you would’ve asked Jude to tag along so it could be a double date or something.  
Jude: How’s it going? 🖼️
You’re miserable here, and you’re pretty sure you’re third wheeling. And look, you want to be supportive of your best friend, right? But it’s so hard to be when the guy she’s seeing’s the textbook definition of an asshole. 
You’re one pretentious comment away from faking morning sickness to get out of this. 
You: I’m having the worst time
You: The art is great, but he’s so smug 🙄
And he’s rude, so rude, and he’s determined to talk over you. 
Jude: The artist? 🎨🧑‍🎨
You: Yeah, I don’t think he likes me :/ 
And you’d actually be doing him a favour by leaving, you’d be doing you both the favour because at this point, you feel like you’re intruding and you’re starting to feel awkward. 
Jude: Well fuck him 
His text makes you chortle.��
At least Winnie’s making an effort to include you. Every now and again, she’ll ask for your opinion on certain pieces, but in the end, you just can’t do it. 
You can’t be here anymore. 
‘Hey,’ you lightly tap Winnie’s shoulder.
She turns to regard you, ‘Hey, what’s up?’
‘Can I talk to you for a second?’ 
‘Sure.’
She excuses herself from Baltasar, who’s really displeased with your intrusion, and you find a quiet corner. 
‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yeah, everything’s fine, the art’s great, but I’m not feeling too hot.’
‘Oh no,’ her brows knit in concern, ‘is it morning sickness?’ 
She’s buying it, good. 
‘I think I’m going to head home, you know, to lie down for a couple hours.’ 
‘Yeah, alright,’ she takes your hand in hers and lightly squeezes it. 
‘But how will you get back to the apartment?’ 
You are her ride home after all. 
‘I was planning on spending the rest of the afternoon with Baltasar,’ she looks over her shoulder at him and when she looks back at you, she’s blushing, ‘but what about you? Are you fine to drive in your condition?’ 
‘It’s just a little nausea, I promise I’ll be fine.’ 
It takes a minute to convince her, but you don’t relent, and in the end, you manage to convince her. 
‘Now go,’ you nudge her towards her waiting love interest. ‘Have fun with your boyfriend–’
‘Uh, he’s not my boyfriend,’ she quickly interjects, her voice dropping to a scolding whisper. 
You smile knowingly, sure he isn’t. 
‘What makes you say he’s my boyfriend? Did he say something to you?’
‘No, but I saw the way you were looking at him,’ you shrug, ‘the way he was looking at you.’ 
Winnie’s uncharacteristically shy all of a sudden. 
‘I’ve clearly misread the situation,’ you start backing away from her. ‘But we’ll talk more about it later, okay?’
‘Promise to text me when you get home.’ 
‘I pinky promise to call you when I get home,’ you blow her a kiss. 
You wave goodbye to Baltsar, who seems pleased to see you go, and then you’re out of there. 
It’s a short drive home from the gallery, and you’re glad to be back home, but you wish Jude was here with you.
You: I miss you.
As soon as the message’s sent, you regret sending it. But you can always blame pregnancy for making you so clingy. 
You fall back onto the bed with a long exhale. What to do with your time? You could watch a movie or you could go the self-care route. 
The other day, a skincare brand sent you a few collagen face masks you’ve been dying to try. It’s one of those that melts into your skin. And since you’re on that path, you can also soak in the tub ‘cause you haven’t done that in a while. And if you’re really up to it, maybe you can do your nails. 
But first: 
You: Got home safe. Have fun with your friend ;) can’t wait to hear about it later x
Jude misses you too. He’s also still with his parents but should be home before dinner.  
You: Did you tell them about… 🫄
Jude: No. I thought we’d do it together.
That’s a good plan. 
You: Great idea. I’ll see you later, I love you x
Jude: I love you more 😘
Dinner time’s a while away, so you’ve got plenty of time to have your self-care afternoon. 
The tub is halfway full, the bubbles foaming, the steam and aroma engulfing the space when your phone notifies you that someone’s at the door. 
Your body’s sheathed by a robe, but you still feel indecent as you make your way to the door. 
The doorbell goes off a second time just before you reach the door, and when you open it, the last person you expect to find standing on the other side of it is Coralie. 
Yes, Coralie’s at your door and she looks like. . . Well, she looks like shit. 
‘Y/N,’ she forces her lips into a tight smile. ‘Hi.’ 
The shock has you frozen for a moment, but you’re quick to recover. ‘Jude’s not home.’ 
You’re curt because you want her out of your sight and you’ve left the water running in the bathroom. 
‘I know he isn’t.’
She does?
‘I’m not here to see Jude, I’m actually here to see you.’
Of course she’s here to see you. 
‘Why?’
‘‘Cause there’s so much we need to talk about, woman to woman.’ 
“Woman to woman”, what a joke? And it takes everything in you to stop your eyes from rolling. What the fuck does that even mean?
‘Can’t we schedule this for another time? I’m kinda in a rush.’
‘It won’t take long, I promise.’ 
Hell, she can’t take a hint, can she?
‘Can I come in?’
‘We can’t talk about whatever it is here?’ you tighten your grip around the door handle to stop your hand from shaking. ‘I mean, you said it yourself, it won’t take long.’
‘Yeah, but it’s weird doing it at the door, so can I come in?’
‘You’re in no position to call the shots.’ 
‘Please,’ she sounds desperate. ‘I just need ten minutes of your time, then I promise I’ll go.’ 
The more you look at her, the worse she looks. Honestly, she looks like she’s been to hell and back, and if you didn’t hate her so much, you’d feel sympathy. 
‘Ten minutes, then you have to leave.’ 
‘That’s all I ask, thank you.’
And so despite your better judgement, you step to one side to allow her into the apartment. As you shut the door, you offer her a drink.
‘I’ll have a water, thank you.’
‘We’ve got water in the fridge.’ You walk towards your bedroom to shut off the running water, ‘I’ll be with you in a moment.’ 
On the short trek, you dig your phone from your robe pocket. 
You: Coralie’s here she says she wants to talk but i’m uneasy
You shut the faucet. You quickly change out of your robe into the first clothing items you stumble upon, which are the sweats Jude was wearing earlier. They’re loosely fitting, but they’re comforting because they smell like him.
Coralie’s in the living room, bottle of water in hand, and she’s focused on something out the window. 
‘Sorry I took so long.’
Your sudden intrusion snaps her out of her reverie, ‘It’s fine.’ 
Her eyes are fixed on you as you move around the space to take your seat on the sectional, feet tucked beneath your bum. 
This is so awkward. 
‘So,’ you start, breaking the ice, ‘you said you wanted to talk?’
You heard Jude out, so it’s only fair that you hear Coralie’s side of the story. 
‘Right,’ she clears her throat. ‘I assume you know about our. . .’
‘Affair?’
She winces at your choice of words. 
‘Yeah, I do.’
‘And he told you everything?’ 
‘That you got drunk last December and hooked up? That you’ve been hooking up behind my back for the last six months?’
She sits perfectly still, but her trembling lower lip betrays her. 
‘That you were sending inappropriate texts, pictures, and videos. . .’ you continue, pleased to see her squirm in her seat. ‘Am I missing anything else?’ 
It’s only been, what? Five days since you last saw her, but in the short time span, she’s aged a decade. Coralie’s never disclosed her age, but you’ve always placed her in her late-twenties, maybe early-thirties, but today she looks well into her forties.
‘How did you find out?’
‘I saw the drunk text you sent him, what did it say again?’ you pause for dramatic effect. ‘Right, “I’m drunk and I miss you. Call me.”’ 
She’s fidgeting with the bottle in her hand, her head bowing in shame. ‘Y/N, I’m really sorry.’
‘What are you apologising for?’
‘All of it.’ She looks up at you, ‘I’m sorry that you found out the way you did.’ 
You hear her, but you’re not ready to accept her apology. Especially because she’s cutting into your self-care time with this crap. 
‘Who made the first move?’ 
‘Jude did.’
Your heart aches at the revelation, it’s like someone has driven a sharp knife into it. 
‘He was upset at you, he didn’t say why but he was really cut up about a fight you had,’ she proceeds. ‘And if it wasn’t me, it would’ve been someone else.’
You think you might throw up. 
‘But he was drunk, we both were, and. . .’ her voice trails. 
An uncomfortable silence descends upon the room because really, what else is there to say? 
‘Do you love him?’ 
‘Does it matter?’
It doesn’t matter, but you want to know. Let’s say it’s curiosity.
‘He’s hard not to love.’
That’s true.
‘But am I in love with him? No.’ 
Some of the tension in your shoulders eases. 
‘And he doesn’t love me either,’ and she almost sounds sad when she says that. ‘It was only ever sex between us, nothing more.’
But the texts. . . what did they mean? 
‘Nothing,’ she insists. ‘Call it harmless flirtation.’
‘Harmless?’
She flushes, ‘You know what I mean.’ 
So you now know that he was mad at you, they were both drunk, they fucked and you think Coralie regrets it, but you’re not sure. 
‘Who pursued it?’ 
‘What?’ 
‘Your. . . thing, the affair,’ it irks you to say it. 
‘Oh, Y/N, I don’t think you–’ 
‘Was it Jude?’ 
‘He loves you.’
‘I know he loves me.’ 
Coralie’s quiet which furthers your frustration at her. 
‘Did he pursue the affair?’
‘Why does it matter? It doesn’t change anything because in the end, he chose you.’ It’s like it pains her to say it. ‘He’ll always choose you.’
You nod. 
After another long and awkward silence, she professes, ‘You know, I felt awful deceiving you because you really are such a good person.’
‘Don’t start with that crap.’ 
‘No, I mean it. You’re a good person, and we were friends–’
‘We were never friends,’ you interrupt. ‘You were never my friend.’ 
You tolerated her, there’s a difference. 
‘I know you’re upset with me, and trust me, I get it, but come on,’ she persists. ‘We were friendly with each other.’ 
‘You sleep with all your friends’ boyfriends?’ 
That shuts her up. 
‘Look, Coralie, I appreciate the apology,’ you pull your phone from the sweatpants pocket to check the time and discover eight missed calls from Jude. ‘But you said you’d be here for ten minutes, and you’ve exceeded that time.’ 
‘I know, and I’m really sorry about that, but there’s one last thing I want to tell you.’ 
Your stomach twists with dread—she better not tell you that she’s pregnant. The cheating you can move past, but a child you can’t recover from. 
‘You’re pregnant?’ 
‘What?’ She looks offended that you’d even ask her that question. ‘No, I’m not pregnant.’
You sigh in relief. 
She’s not pregnant, but she did lose her job. She received the call this morning to let her know that her services were no longer required by the club. She’s certain Jude had something to do with it, so she’s here to plead with you to talk sense into him. 
‘And I meant what I said, I really am sorry for the inconvenience that I’ve caused in your life, but Y/N, I really need this job,’ she concludes. 
‘How are you so sure he had something to do with it?’ 
She shoots you an incredulous look as if to say, ‘Really?’ 
‘And if he did have something to do with it, what makes you think he’d listen to anything I have to say?’ 
‘Because you told him to end our arrangement and he did.’
‘But you said it yourself, you mean nothing to him.’ 
She flinches again. 
‘I mean, I can try to talk to him, but I can’t promise you anything.’ 
‘Thank you,’ she smiles. ‘That’s all I ask.’ 
‘Well, like I said, I have somewhere to be so–’
You don’t get to finish the sentence, ‘cause you’re cut off by a panicked Jude who storms into the apartment, followed by an equally panicked Mark. 
‘Babe?’ 
Thank the heavens he’s here.
///
You wake up in the middle of the night to find Jude’s side of the bed empty. At first you think he’s in the bathroom, but when five minutes pass and he’s not back, the panic sets in. You grab your phone off of the bedside table to check the time: 2:38. 
Where the hell is he?
You sit up and search the dark room for traces of him, but there’s nothing—only his phone on the bedside table.
It’s been hours since your confrontation with Coralie, but you’re yet to process it all. You’re still in shock at the fact that she rocked up at your door the way she did, but you’d be lying if you said the conversation wasn’t cathartic. 
‘Jude?’ 
You push the covers away and climb off of the bed. After you locate your house shoes, you set out to find him. 
His phone is here, so he shouldn’t be far. 
‘Jude?’ 
As you make your trek down the short passage, you hear soft chatter coming from the TV room. When you turn the corner, you find Jude sitting on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him, feet resting on the coffee table. 
A smile takes over your face at the sight of him. 
‘Hey, you,’ he greets you as you crawl into his lap. 
‘Hi,’ you tuck your face in the crook of his neck and inhale his scent. ‘What are you watching?’ 
‘Pulp Fiction.’
Of course he is. 
‘Why’re you up?’ 
You trace patterns on his t-shirt clad chest. ‘I woke up and you weren’t in bed. I panicked.’
He tightens his arms around you, ‘Why?’
‘I don’t know,’ you sit up. ‘This pregnancy has me acting weird.’ 
‘Yeah, blame it on the pregnancy,’ he teases. 
‘Shut up,’ you shift to straddle him. ‘Why are you sitting here alone?’
His hands settle on your waist, ‘I didn’t want to wake you.’
There’s still so much to discuss in terms of Coralie and her claims, but tonight just isn’t the time for that.
‘Do you think we’ll ever be okay again?’ 
‘Yeah,’ he takes your mouth into a deep kiss. 
‘Come to bed with me,’ you whisper against his lips, moaning when he slips a hand between you, teasing his fingers through your slick folds. 
‘I don’t think we’ll make it to bed.’ 
///
Tagged:
@luv4bellingham
84 notes · View notes
nunalastor · 2 days
Note
Slow/dark/non con/ dub con Trans Alastor Fic Idea
I’m sending this in because I am going to try and actually write this instead of letting it die in my WIP folder.
Vox finds a grievously injured Al
treats his wounds.
When he opens up his shirt to check on the wound he sees that Alastor has what Vox would consider the most perfect pair of breasts.
Vox is going to heal him as gently as possible, but Alastor passes out from the pain. Alastor was fighting him and it is better this way.
Vox takes him to recuperate to a house that Vox had bought back when they were friends and he was hoping to be more than that.
The house is at the outer edge of Pentagram city. It cost him a considerable amount of money to buy the scant piece of land that has any trees in Hell but he hoped that Alastor would have appreciated it.
Even after Alastor turned Vox down he never sold the property. Now with this knowledge Vox is convinced that they are meant to be, he just has to play his cards right and not fumble this opportunity.
That is where Alastor wakes up, he is wondering whose house it is.
“It is the house that should have been our home,” Vox thinks
“I own it, don’t worry about it,”
“Didn’t think you had any taste, I’m surprised” Alastor says suspiciously. As Alastor goes through the house he notices that Vox somehow got a lot of his old belongings from before alastor left for seven years.
(Valentino told Vox to get rid of it when they built the tower. Vox did not get rid of it. If everything keeps going the way it is Vox has no problem getting rid of Valentino)
“Did you put your hands on me, while I was unconscious?”
“Yes,”
Alastor is waiting for Vox to ridicule him.
“Do you think it matters to me? I care about you, not that? Do you think I am going to lose the only worthy adversary I have? Where’s the fun in that?”
Very slow truce, because Alastor is too weak to leave and his powers are diminished (may or may not be something Vox is putting in the food).
Vox had studied male deer demons behavior to court Alastor and now he goes back to figure out what he should do to make Alastor less resistant to Vox.
“Go back to fighting me. Treat me like your enemy,” Alastor is going to demand when he starts feeling off around Vox
“Not sporting to fight an injured man. I'm trying to help you get better so we can do that” Vox lies, they will never be separated again.
Alastor feels a little better that Vox refers to him as a man.
Vox figures out that Al is using magic to suppress deer instincts. (Heat/rut) But his magic has shifted away from non necessary uses as he heals.
Panicked Alastor trying to throw Vox out when he realizes what he is feeling.
Vox is going to be patient and calculating. He is going to stay nearby and ensure that Alastor has no choice but to call him for help. Make sure Alastor begs for everything that Vox does.
“Let me love you
I thought it was impossible don’t you see that we can be together
Out there, you will always be the Radio Demon, but here with me, you are mine"
👀
40 notes · View notes
thethingything · 7 months
Text
apparently sometimes I will just fall asleep for 2 hours, have a dream that consists entirely of having a lovely conversation with someone I really want to talk to more, then wake up, realise the conversation never happened, also remember how much I struggle with starting conversations sometimes, then just end up getting frustrated and upset about it
#personal#thoughts#🍬 post#vent post#dream posting#I'm trying to get myself to be better at approaching people I want to talk to#and I'm trying to internalise the whole ''if you want to do it but you're scared then do it scared'' thing#but I also am just better at starting a conversation if I have a specific thing I can send someone or ask about or whatever#trying to send completely normal stuff like ''hey! how's it going'' feels so painfully scripted we start panicking about it sounding weird#which I've just realised probably came from some specific experiences as a teenager... fuck 🙃#apparently sometimes you get to randomly make a fun little connection between struggling to start conversations now#and being bullied by family members for any part of your speech that sounded ''scripted''#despite being the ones that taught you to use those scripts to start conversations in the first place#''you should open conversations like this and ask these questions'' and then we'd do exactly that and get made fun of in front of everyone#I fucking hate this. oh yay we were bullied for saying things like ''how's it going?'' and ''how are you today?''#and ''what have you been up to lately?'' and pretty much any other basic conversation opener#and now we can't start a fucking conversation the normal way because we feel too stiff and awkward and like we'll be judged for it#because we'd ask how someone was doing and be laughed at in front of everyone for sounding ''scripted'' and ''fake''#awesome. now I need to process all of that bullshit too#I'm realising how much we got bullied for our speech patterns in general and oh my fucking god
2 notes · View notes
inkskinned · 9 months
Text
no, actually, where is the whimsy?
my ex had a best friend named larry who asked me once: what do you think comes after irony?
we were at the bar where larry worked. it was a quiet night, and he'd hopped over to sit with us on the patron side. i swirled the lemon around my limoncello martini.
earnest positivity, i said, while my ex said, art self-destructs.
i stared at my ex. he stared at me.
his argument was the cinemasins argument: look how bad media is becoming! look at the loopholes and the dumb shit!
it was roughly 2011. galaxy print was still in. at the time, i had a favorite shirt that was a wolf howling at the moon. it got ripped in half in the wash and i honestly still mourn it. i dressed like effie stonem, because everyone did. and irony was the name of the thing. men liked MLP "ironically." the internet liked the kind of crass, "anti-mainstream" vibes of things like fuck romance, touch my butt and buy me pizza. we put cats in sunglasses everywhere, which was because we only liked things in irony.
and media had the same vibe in it: anti-hero white men would be "hard to love" and then storm off the scene. nobody was just earnestly trying to save the world: they were jaded, angry, unoriginal. mad you even asked them to try to help.
my ex ends up not being wrong. cinemasins becomes super popular. a lot of people start viewing media with this lens that is the cruelest, most jaded depiction. it's wrong for your character to have unexplained powers, even if the entire movie is about how strange it is she has unexplained powers - that is still considered a "loophole." characters make thoughtless, panicked choices? loophole. characters are actually kind people, despite hardship? loophole. features a woman doing literally anything without assistance? loophole. movies become hyper-aware of scrutiny, and now irony rules the media.
which means you go to a movie, and the character has to turn to the screen and say "beats me!!" or one of the side characters has to have some kind of quip like "are you seriously telling me that you think this is normal?" because nothing can happen in earnest. like a sitcom laugh track, we now anticipate the fourth-wall break: the moment that the media acknowledges it is telling a story. the media has to apologize for itself, or else someone like my ex rolls their eyes.
but here's the thing: i wasn't wrong either.
the difference might be that i am (and always have been) so soft-hearted that any crack in the light of this world will spear me into the ground. and i was the poet in the relationship. (he thought that was the same thing as being naïve and stupid). i was making things daily. i knew how all of us artists are driven by some strange desire to evolve. he notably liked to critique art, not to create it.
so yes, i've made things that are bitter and angry and even ironic. i've made long, sharp poems with all capital letters, and i've made poems about how the silence stretches out like a song. someone wrote once that we will spend our whole lives just circling the place we grew up. i think it's more that we spend our whole lives trying to remake a home. i think it's that as we age, it becomes less exciting to build the castle on the beach - we become aware of erosion, of windforce. we realize what we really want is to come home to our dog, castle or not.
and while art in the foreground is mired in white male violence and irony, and aggression, and not taking anything seriously - i don't think that's true of all art. i think more and more artists are leaning in to the things we love. the world has changed so much. they have taken so many things from us. the only thing we have left is love. at the bottom of the moving box - all we get is the faint sense that we have to appreciate what little we've got. i can't enjoy this stuff ironically anymore: what room do i have for irony? if it makes me happy, that is an amazing thing. there are so few happy places left for me. i want to be happy because of how leaves shiver beside each other like nestling birds. i want to be happy because of the color pink, and how magenta doesn't exist. i have spent so much of this life suffering, i have earned my right to a gentle ending. if nothing matters, i get to assign meaning to the nothing. i get to create meaning. i am an artist first and foremost, which means creation is my thing.
where is the whimsy? wherever i fucking put it. because if this is my last fucking chance to do any good in this world - i want to do it earnestly. i want to write things that make you happy. that make people feel heard and seen. what comes after irony has to be positivity.
it was close to my 21st birthday. in 7 years, i would end up writing a book about this relationship, which is hopefully coming out somewhere around May 2024. i come back to this bar scene in my memories a lot. i keep thinking of how pale my ex was. the look that crossed his face. how i looked back at him. how for a moment, both of us couldn't recognize the other person. like the gulf between us was a suddenly wide and cavernous thing. like we were alien to each other. he never took my opinion seriously, and he always seemed surprised whenever his manic-pixie-dream-girl ever broke free of the plot. like in the whole time we were together, i wasn't human enough.
this knowledge: where he said nothing comes after, my only instinct was what comes after is love.
13K notes · View notes
dollerines · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
How I entered the void so easily after 1 year of trying
So after 1 year and half of trying to enter I finally did it and I am so mad because it REALLY IS SOOOOO EASY and tbh if in this post you are looking for any sort of validation or info you smart ass already know then please REMEMBER THIS : entering the void is extremely easy. You just have to do it in a way that resonates with you.
Personally for me since I had adhd I couldn’t just stay still and affirm for 1 or even a few for 10 mins. Not just because I was lazy but because just repeating “I am in the void” for so long gets me tired and makes me think of the void more and you actually don’t want to think too deeep about it. I couldn’t wake 3 hours prior and then affirm or even have the patience to do the psych k, yes I was extremely lazy back then and unpresistent but one thing that helped me even backed then was THE ALPHA STATE MEDITATION !
You just have to find what works for you, find a method technique whatever you want to do that doesn’t seem like a chore. So In a post back then I found on @gorgeouslypink acc talking about doing the alpha sate meditation and I tried it back then and I felt really relaxed and it was a good feeling but like I said back then I was realllly lazy so after a few mins I stopped. Then many months later passed and I was still looking for anything and everything on the void. Then just like two days ago I came across another post which was pretty simple and the technique I used was called the DISTRACTED TECHNIQUE.
All there was to do was the usual you get into a comfortable position and then she said to use the alpha state meditation and used the one gorgeouslypink recommended. So I used it and then what she tell you to do is to just think of anything else just get distracted basically and this WAS SO GOOD 4 ME because back then I had adhd so it made it harder to concentrate on just affirming and so yeah I just thought of random things and then at some point where I was completely distracted I felt my body like lift up 😭 if that makes sense I just can’t clearly describe it. It felt really like a shift and I was like ‘panicking’ in a way but I wasn’t actually panicking I just kinda became aware what was going and then I got scared a little but I just relaxed shortly after. Also my fan that was making like a loud noises was coming in an out and then I only hear it in one ear and then I didn’t hear anything and I just stayed there wondering if I reached the void and i actually was!!! I didn’t feel my body it felt like I had no body at all and it was pitch black just like how I imagined the void to be. For a few minutes I just stayed there feeling the most surreal peace I have ever felt. I needed that peace fr 💀.
So then I affirmed for my desires all I said was “I have all my desired results from my subliminal playlist.” Then just to be extra sure I just said “I have everything I want.”
At that point I got really excited and then I wiggled my toes to get out because I was too dam happy I needed to see all my shit the moment I wake up and then I slowly started getting out and when I tell you I cried for like a good dam minute when I woke up and saw how DIFFERENT. My room looked. I literally screamed onto my pillow. I was so dam scare and yet excited to see how I looked.
WHAT I MANIFESTED :
Desired body and face
Having silky straight tailbone length hair cuz mines was originally curly
And everything in my sub playlist
My desired boyfriend and guys I made him be like Gojo Satoru ( because we are all delusional over him 🤪) and let me tell you he is so tall, handsome, sexy and a literal god. He is so silly too 🩷
Moving countries I now live in ny
Never actually meeting my ex and all the people in my old school forget me and have actually never even met me. Like if u asked them about me they have never heard or known me before
Extremely rich rich like hella bands
Got rid of my anxiety and mental health issue
Plus +++
NEVER EVER GIVE UP ON YOUR DREAMS.
Even if the circumstances seem to be eating you alive don’t mind that too much. Even if all seems hopeless don’t give up because you already know nothing can decide or be unless you give it power to be. So stop being goofy and take responsibility and DONT STRESS!! You don’t see God stressing do you. All he has to do is blink and whatever he wants to happen, happens. Plus a lot of confidence came from non dualism that I owe a huge thanks to @trynafindbarbiee she really said it like it is !!
YOU GOT THIS ML 🩷🩷🩷🩷
4K notes · View notes
letterstotheflre · 1 year
Text
every now and then i remember how i went literally insane during the world cup and thought god was sending me signs through twitter that he actually exists and he wanted me to become catholic again
1 note · View note
lqvesoph · 19 days
Text
She’s WHOSE daughter?? || LN4
Tumblr media
lando norris x webber!reader
summary: After finding out who your father is, Lando needs some time for himself to think about everything. Oscar is more than willing to help make things right between you.
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 5
masterlist | taglist
Part 4
dad: What’s going on with you and Lando?
You: What do you mean?
dad: Your Instagram
dad: And I saw you in the paddock together
dad: That hug looked a little too intimate for friends
You swallowed hard before turning your phone off, chosing to ignore the messages and focus on Lando who just walked back into the garage, the debrief was done.
"We gotta talk", he stated, pushing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.
You nodded, wanting to follow him back up to his driver’s room when suddenly an all too familiar voice called your name.
"Y/n, don’t you think you should introduce us?", your father asked, sitting at one of the tables with Oscar’s parents. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at your father’s teasing. Lando and him knew each other, obviously they’ve seen each other quite a few times in the paddock, especially because he was Oscar’s manager.
"Y/n, sweetheart, how are you doing?", Oscar’s mum asked with a genuine smile, making a small smile appear on your face as well as you replied.
"I’m good, thank you."
Lando eyed you from the side as you stepped closer to your father.
"Dad, Lando. Lando, my dad", you dryly spoke. Lando’s eyes went from you to your dad, giving him a small smile and a nod before looking back at you. "If you excuse us but we have to go", you said, waving at Oscar’s parents and turning your back to the table.
You waited on the couch while Lando closed the door to his driver room.
"Why didn’t you tell me?", he immediately questioned, leaning against the locked door. "I never tell people about my father because it happened too often that they weren’t there for me but for him", you started, fiddling with your hands.
"Not me and I thought you would have figured that. I knew your father, I’ve met him a few times", Lando argued. "What was I supposed to say, Lando?", you raised your voice a little. "We met in Bahrain but didn’t have much contact after that until this week, I couldn’t just go like 'Oh and by the way Mark Webber is my dad'!"
"You could’ve told me", he muttered quietly. "You could’ve told me in Bahrain when I asked about how you know Daniel or at the beach when I asked about your dad’s work."
"It just never felt right", you tried to defend yourself. "Bahrain was just too early and at the beach I sort of panicked, I don’t know", you muttered, realizing you really didn’t know why you haven’t told him until now.
"I need some time", Lando said after a few moments. You nodded and watched as he unlocked the door, leaving the room and probably the track for the day.
*~**~*
"So, what made Lando storm out of here like that?", your dad asked when you gathered yourself and finally made your way downstairs.
"I don’t wanna walk about it", you grumbled, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Just then Oscar walked down the stairs, his eyes widened when he spotted you. "Princess, I’m sorry! I really am!", he immediately said, walking closer to you.
"I didn’t know that he didn’t know but I should have known and I’m sorry", your best friend apologized and wrapped you in a hug. "Don’t be, Oscar. It’s my fault anyway. I should’ve told him. I don’t know why I didn’t", you muttered, your voice sounding muffled from being pressed into Oscar’s shoulder.
"Still. I feel bad", he huffed, pulling back from the hug to look at you. "Where is he?"
You shrugged and looked away from Oscar. "I don’t know, probably went back to the hotel", you replied. "Mark how long do you plan on staying because I could take Y/n back to her hotel", he then turned to your father.
"Oh, I was actually just waiting for her", your dad replied, standing up from the table. "You ready?"
You nodded and turned around to Oscar’s parents, saying goodbye and telling them to meet again tomorrow at the race.
Oscar gave you another tight hug before waving at your dad and letting the two of you go.
"You ready to go as well?", Lily asked, grabbing his hand. Oscar nodded. "Yeah but I need to make a quick stop somewhere before we go home."
*~**~*
Just thirty minutes later, Oscar knocked on the door of one of Hilton’s hotel rooms.
"What on earth are you doing here? I thought you sleep at home", Lando muttered when he opened the door and saw his teammate standing there.
"Let me in?", Oscar just asked, lifting one eyebrow. Lando nodded silently and took a step to the side to let Oscar enter the room.
"She’s really sorry", he spoke as soon as the door had closed. Lando shut his eyes and crossed his arms. "Please, Oscar-"
"She knows she screwed up and said herself she doesn’t actually know or have reasons why she didn’t tell you", Oscar ignored his teammates protest. "She’s never been good with trusting people, so many having screwed her over just to get a chance to meet her dad-" "But I know her dad-" "And that left scars", Oscar continued. "She went into panic mode when you asked about her dad. She never likes being associated with him. She loves him to death but hates it when someone brings him up when talking about her achievements, or in general, when talking about her. She doesn’t just want to be Mark Webber’s daughter but her own person and she really really likes you!"
Lando stayed silent for a moment.
"Talk to her, please?", Oscar then quietly asked, searching for anything in Lando’s eyes that would give him some sort of confirmation.
The British driver blinked a few times, uncrossed his arms and took a deep sigh. "I will, tomorrow", he muttered, bringing a smile to Oscar’s face.
taglist
Please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist or text me if you want to be taken off x
@champagneproblems17 @meko-mt @scopeiguess @bwormie @d3kstar @c-losur3 @lupitakapro @endlesssummer10 @sheslikeacurse @im-a-ghost666 @m0cha-bunny @claudiajacobs @noncannonships @light-23 @impossibleapricotlampbat @somewherewedontknow @asfaraslifegets @spookystitchery @brune77e @alilstressyandlotdepressy @berrnuu @leclercdream @urfavsgf @neodeliightt @eiffel-hood @tbsloneely @maplesyrupsainz @amalies-stuff @bicchaan @planet-faerie @landorris @soleilgrec @nikfigueiredo @basicchelsea @sarahkaliii @charlesgirl16 @phantomxoxo @lilipiggytails @honethatty12 @bingussthirdtoe @chasing-liberosis @jerricrojane @everbizzare @wherethefuckisthething @sltwins @nixisracing @a-beaverhausen @annie115
1K notes · View notes
multific · 3 months
Text
In This Together
Tumblr media
Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Summary: Your period is late.
Tumblr media
You tried your best not to panic. You tried your best to keep it together.
You tried... but on the inside, you were panicking over it.
And who wouldn't be?
Your period was late! And you wanted to crawl into a hole and cry all day.
Overdramatic? Possibly, yes.
But you were scared, so in your mind, it all made sense.
You even got to a point on your third day that you avoided Mattheo at all costs.
Which he of course noticed.
He tried to catch you in the halls but you were quicker.
He even debated barging into the girl's restroom at one point. 
On the fifth day, he finally caught you and cornered you in the library.
"Why are you avoiding me?" he genuinely looked hurt.
"It's just..." you looked up at him, you knew no one was around you, so you decided to tell him. "I'm late."
"What do you mean? You don't have any classes."
"No..." you wanted to cry and yell but you just let out a sigh. "My period is late." you whispered and he froze in one place.
"But we always used... protection."
"Yes."
"How would it be possible? Did you check with the nurse?"
"I didn't check. My period always came when it should."
"We should go to the nurse."
"I'm scared." you said and you sounded so honest and desperate Mattheo hugged you.
"I'm here, we will figure it out okay? It could be that you are just a bit later than usual. Everything will be fine." he kissed your hair as you hugged him closer.
The next morning, you woke up to a certain pain.
A pain you knew very well.
And indeed, your panic was for nothing. You were simply later than usual.
You felt so relieved. 
Someone knocked on your door before barging in.
"Good morning, Beautiful, so, I made a plan. Simple but I think we could do it. So, you stay in school, I drop out. I go and work in a store or at the Ministry, anywhere. I will put all my paychecks to one side and it would be a start. Then, you can give birth and we would have a home, you can decide if you want to go to finish school after or work, but I also have a small inheritance from my father so we can figure it out."
You blinked at your boyfriend. 
"You didn't sleep did you?"
"Not a blink! Theo threw pillows at me because I kept mumbling, but I thought my plan was good. What do you say?"
"I really do appreciate you coming up with this, Matty but-"
"We are keeping the baby. I don't think that is up for debate... at least not to me."
"We don't have to keep the baby."
"But I want to! I-I realize we are young but we can do it."
"Matty, I'm not pregnant. You were right, my period was just later than usual."
"Oh." his shoulders slacked. "And I spent all night thinking..."
"I appreciate it, and it is very nice to know you wouldn't just leave."
"Of course, I wouldn't."
"Yes, I get it. You look disappointed."
"I'm not going to lie, I spent probably the last four hours just imagining the cutest kid with your eyes and smile and... I kinda am disappointed. It's okay though, I know your father would have killed me so at least now we can wait until after marriage."
"Yes, what? You want to get married?"
"Don't get me started on that. It was another sleepless night after you told me about your father and his... older views." you smiled and walked over to him. 
"I love you." you wanted to say so many things, but you knew this would be simple and enough.
"I love you too." you hugged him and kissed him. "Then, I will get you some chocolate and candy."
"Aww, thank you. Who could have thought you would be such a great boyfriend."
"Well, duh. I'm the best Slytherin."
"That you are."
"And the best boyfriend."
"Exactly." you pulled him in for another kiss.
You really feared that he would just run and be like the guy your friends thought he would be, but it was good to know that he had his own plans, and his future certainly involved you.
Tumblr media
Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse  @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
2K notes · View notes
arieslost · 2 months
Text
falling for you | op81
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
oscar piastri x fem!reader
summary: you and oscar should be more than just friends, but neither of you realize it until you’re on vacation… and his girlfriend is there, too.
word count: 2,956
warnings: angsty moments
masterlist — join my tag list here!
PART TWO
shoutout to my dream journal- i got this idea from a dream i had in 2021. also disclaimer, i love lily, she’s so sweet. we’re pretending that oscar is dating someone else here ok thanks <33
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
Tumblr media
For the first time in your life, you were regretting taking a vacation, and it was all Oscar Piastri’s fault.
Your family and the Piastris had been going on vacation together for as long as you could remember, and you’ve been best friends with Oscar for just as long. He was in the background of every defining moment of your life. He could say the same about you— best friends forever.
And then, like the idiot you are, you went and fell in love with him. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint how, or why, or when; all you knew was that you woke up on the second day of your vacation, walked into the kitchen, saw him pouring himself a bowl of cereal, and it hit you like a damn truck.
“Good morning, sweetie,” your mom says, barely noticing your slightly panicked expression as you realized that you were very much in love with your best friend.
“Morning,” you mumble back, unable to tear your eyes away from Oscar.
He notices you staring at him, your eyes as wide as saucers, and frowns. “You okay? There’s still some of this in the box, I saved it for you.”
Great. Of course he has to be so thoughtful all the time.
“Yeah, ‘m fine. Thanks, Osc.” You squeeze his arm as you pass by. He smiles at you, like he always does when you do that, and you want to die a little.
Especially when his girlfriend enters the room.
It’s the first time either of you have a significant other during your annual vacation time, and while you had aggressively lobbied against it (Oscar obviously had no clue), your parents and his parents had agreed to let her come. You were furious about it for weeks and couldn’t figure out why.
Well, now you know.
You can’t even enjoy your cereal, especially not when she kisses Oscar for everyone to see and then makes direct eye contact with you and smirks when he’s not looking. So, you decide to spend the entire day completely Oscar-less, as much as you wish you could just have him all to yourself like you always do when you’re here.
The thing is, you’ve never liked his girlfriend, obvious reasons aside. Even before Oscar started dating her, you’d never gotten along with her. It was like she had a personal vendetta against you, and always tried her hardest to be touchy with Oscar whenever she saw that you were in her line of sight. The most infuriating part is that literally no one else ever notices her behavior except you. Not even Oscar, your so-called best friend. Normally, you’d go to him to vent about something like this, because he’s always understood you in ways that no one else ever will. Now he’s the last person you can go to.
It sucks. You’re angry at your parents, his parents, and especially him for asking if he could bring her along in the first place.
You end up spending your entire morning and most of the afternoon at the beach. You don’t put on enough sunscreen because there’s no one there to make sure you use the proper amount. You hate getting sunburn, but you’d take that over seeing Oscar with his girlfriend. By the time you get back to the rental, everyone is off doing their own thing. Your parents are putting together a puzzle in the living room. Oscar’s parents have the door to their room shut, and you can hear the TV playing. You don’t have the courage to go looking for Oscar himself– once you see that he’s not in your shared room, you know that he’s either out or in his girlfriend’s room. Either way, you don’t want to know.
That was another thing that makes you wish this vacation never happened: Oscar had been allowed to bring his girlfriend, but the only condition was that the two of them had to sleep in separate rooms. That meant the two of you shared a room like always, but that didn’t mean he didn’t take every possible chance he could to go to hers, meaning you’re alone most of the time.
You might as well just pack up and walk home to save yourself the struggle of five more days.
It doesn’t seem like anyone is around to hear, so you let out a loud, frustrated groan as you flop back onto your bed. You look to your right, past Oscar’s bed, at the flowy curtains hanging in front of the doors that lead to the deck outside. One of the doors is ajar, and the slight breeze makes the curtains flap gently.
“You okay, sweetie?” Of course your mom heard you from all the way down the hall.
“Yeah,” you reply in a way that makes it very obvious that you’re not okay.
“Ah, I know that tone.” Your mom says, crossing the room to sit at the foot of your bed. “You need a boyfriend. You wouldn’t be this mopey if you had someone here with you, too.”
Like Oscar does. “You’re telling me,” you scoff bitterly. “I guess I’ll try a little harder for next year.”
“Well, are there any boys you’re interested in?” She asks, rubbing your leg comfortingly.
“I don’t know,” you mumble, turning your head away from her so she can’t get a perfect view of your face heating up as you think about your best friend.
She hums. “Yeah, I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
“It’s Oscar, isn’t it?”
You cover your face with your hands. “Ugh! Leave now, and we can pretend this conversation never happened.”
“Nice try.” Your mom pries your hands away and gives you a look. “I just don’t think it’s the best idea that you like Oscar. He doesn’t exactly have the most stable lifestyle.”
“He doesn’t need stability, he’s rich.” You shoot back. “I don’t even care about that, Mom. I’m not exactly interested in him because of his lifestyle.” You consider not saying it, but you’ll feel better getting it off your chest. “And his girlfriend is a bitch.”
“You’re right,” your mom says, and you can’t believe what you’re hearing. “I hate his girlfriend. I’ve always thought that you’re much better suited for him.”
“No kidding. Known him his whole life, everyone thought we were dating growing up, we’ve gone through just about everything together. I guess that simply doesn’t compare to the girl he’s known for five whole months.” You’re being snarky now, and you can’t find it in you to care. It should be you dating Oscar.
Everyone else seems to think so except him.
Your mom laughs, but in a way that you know that she agrees with you, as childish as you’re being. She continues to rub your leg, and the comforting motion has your eyes drooping. The stress of your newfound feelings and the warmth of the sun on your skin is more than enough to tire you out.
“Nap time?” She asks eventually, and you nod slowly.
“Mhmm.”
“I’ll come wake you up before dinner.” She kisses the top of your head, gets up, and then says something that has you wide awake. “Hey, Oscar. She’s sleeping.”
“Ah, okay. I’ll be quiet.” You hate the calming effect his voice has on you, even though now just looking at him has sent your heart racing.
One of them shuts the door, and shortly after you can feel the bed dipping under Oscar’s weight as he lays down next to you.
“Hey,” he whispers. “Missed you.”
I missed you more. Jerk.
“I know you’re awake,” he continues. “But you don’t have to talk to me.”
Good.
“I guess I deserve the silent treatment.”
Your resolve cracks a little, because he sounds genuinely upset. As much as you want to, you don’t open your eyes, but you do turn around to face him and move closer in the process. You can smell the faint traces of his cologne, and you have to fight a sigh of contentment. Damn him for always making you feel so safe. Besides, you’re a little cold now thanks to the air conditioning.
Your eyes nearly fly open in shock when he wastes no time in pulling you closer so you’re properly cuddled into his side and puts his arm around you. He lets out a breath, like he’s relieved, before he moves around a little and leans his head against yours.
The logical side of you is screaming to quit the sleeping facade and confront him right here and now about this rather intimate behavior, but the side of you that just discovered the strong feelings you harbor for your best friend tells you to just play along and enjoy whatever alone time you have with him. It’s not hard to pick which side to listen to.
The two of you stay this way for so long you start falling asleep again, and it only gets worse when he starts rubbing your back. It starts out very subtle; at first, his fingertips just move up and down along the fabric of your shirt. He stops for a moment, like he’s considering the outcomes of his actions, and then flattens his palm against your back and continues the up and down motion. You bury your head in his chest, mostly to hide the fact that you’re turning red but also because you just want to be closer to him. He hums a little when you do it, and you have to stop yourself from weighing the logistics of whether or not you could get away with kissing him right here and now.
You have to fight the urge to sleep, wanting to soak in every moment of his strange but welcome actions. Maybe this is all just an elaborate dream– either way, you’re not going to sleep through it.
The sound of him sighing again catches your attention, but you’re entirely brought back to reality when he starts moving.
You fully give up. You don’t want him to go, so you say his name quietly and look up at him.
He sits up a little to look back at you, and you reach up to smooth away the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb. “We’re on vacation. You’re supposed to be having fun.”
“So are you.” He points out.
Of course he’s picked up on it.
“It’s complicated.”
“Talk to me,” he encourages, shifting so he can keep you close. His little polite cat smile nearly has you spilling your guts to him about how much you wish you were the one he was kissing in front of everyone.
You press your lips together. “I… I can’t, Osc.”
You always hate his crestfallen expression, but you hate it more when you’re the cause of it.
“You can talk to me about anything, you know that right?”
“I know,” you reassure him. “Just… not this. Anything but this.”
He hums again, but not in the happy way that he did before when you were practically trying to crawl into his skin. This is more like a hum of concentration.
You have a moment of hope, thinking that maybe he’ll just let it go, but you know your best friend better than that. It doesn’t change your shock when he speaks again.
“Okay. I think I know what this is about.”
“I seriously doubt you do.” You can’t help but laugh a little. How could he possibly know about something that you yourself only just discovered?
He gives you a specific look then, a look that you have always despised being on the receiving end of. It’s a look that tells you he’s expecting you to explain yourself and see if he’s right. He usually is right, which only makes it worse.
“No.” You shake your head, starting to try and find a way to get up. “No, Oscar, don’t make me say it.”
He isn’t having it though: his arm stays snug around you, and he puts one of his legs between both of yours, hooking his ankle around yours so you can’t escape.
“Oscar,” you whine. “No fair, with your stupid reflexes.”
He whines your name back in the same exact tone. “Shouldn’t try to get away from me, then.”
You let out a groan of frustration. “I’m not telling you anything.”
Someone walks out into the hallway, and the sound of the footsteps coming towards your room makes the both of you freeze. The two of you are in a rather precarious position, with your limbs tangled and Oscar practically on top of you. Not that you necessarily mind, but if anyone walked in right now, eyebrows would be raised.
Oscar seems to be thinking along the same lines as you, meeting your wide-eyed stare with his own but not making any effort to move away. It clicks in your head at that exact moment, just as it did in the morning when you walked into the kitchen.
He does know.
“How?” You whisper, too wrapped up in your disbelief to even be embarrassed.
“I know you better than anyone,” he whispers back, head whipping towards the closed door when you hear a creak, like someone’s weight is shifting on the floor.
The footsteps recede. You both let out a breath, turning to face each other again. You’re close. Too close. Close enough that you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to.
You remember the last time you were this close to him— you were both 14, playing hide and seek at midnight at a friend’s birthday party. He’d accidentally chosen the same hiding place as you, a desk with a rolling chair in front of it, and you’d been forced to squish together underneath the desk in order to conceal yourselves well enough. You were mad that he chose the same spot as you because it raised the likelihood of being found, and he’d just giggled at you every time you glared at him. You remember how much you loved his giggle, and how you’d wondered what it would be like to kiss his smile.
Well. You really have been in love with him this whole time.
You want nothing more than to crawl under the bed and stay there for the rest of the vacation so you don’t have to look him in the eye. You never want to speak to him again. You want to tell him everything. You want to push him away. You want to hold him closer.
“Tell me I didn’t ruin our friendship.” Is all you can think to say, and Oscar reacts immediately, brushing your hair out of your face and hugging you tightly.
“Honey, you could never ruin this.” He presses his nose into your hair, brushes his lips against your head. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re not the one who should be sorry,” you grumble into his chest.
He doesn’t answer, instead choosing to alternate between playing with the ends of your hair and drawing shapes on your shoulder with his fingers. He’s always been affectionate with you, but this is a whole new level, and your overthinking has you worried that you’ll lose it entirely as soon as the two of you have to leave this room and face the reality of the situation. You close your eyes, trying your hardest to soak up every little detail of this moment in the event that you never get another like it.
You know Oscar thinks you’re asleep when, much to your dismay (and maybe his, too), he gets up and gently lays you back against your pillow.
“I really shouldn’t be doing this,” you hear him say, and then you feel his lips press firmly against your temple, his hand leaving the most featherlight touch on your cheek. “I’m sorry, baby.”
The soft material of a blanket covers your body, and the door opens and shuts. Your tears waste no time in soaking into the pillowcase.
You’re regretting this vacation, but it isn’t Oscar’s fault.
He’s not the one who fell in love with the one person he can’t have.
Things change, but not at all in the way you expect. Oscar still throws an arm around you for every picture and hoists you onto his back without hesitation for the obligatory piggyback photo that has been a vacation tradition since forever. His girlfriend still looks at you like you’re the pebble she can’t get out of her shoe, but for every dirty look and intentional display of affection, Oscar is there to make up for it. He goes to the beach with you and makes sure that you apply enough sunscreen, he goes to the amusement park with you even though he hates most of the rides, he takes you to breakfast at the risk of his girlfriend throwing a fit when you get back. She does, but he doesn’t care. He does it every year, and he tells you that he’d be damned if he didn’t keep up with it.
Maybe he pities you. It doesn’t matter. You can live with never even having a chance with the boy you think you’ve always wanted something more with, so long as you can continue to call him your best friend.
He leaves for his next race on the last day of vacation, and his girlfriend goes with him. You support him from home. He calls you every single day.
Oscar has never been able to go more than 24 hours without hearing your voice. He’s never been able to fully express just how much he needs you, and now he has to face the obstacle of breaking up with his girlfriend before he can even try.
Tumblr media
note: this fic was low key my personal everest and i changed the ending at the last second because i hate angst. if anyone is interested in a part two, let me know because i’d be happy to write it at some point!
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are always appreciated <33
beautiful dividers by @/saradika !
tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @littlemiss-arabella @notturlover @verstappensrealwife @oliveisunstable @hauntedphotographybookstaco @maddie-bell @hood-jabi @jupiter-je-taime @uzisplanet @akiraquote @average-f1-enjoyer @xo-mya1 @beth-712 @bingewatche @alex15marie @ana2delusional @tomhollandfics @cixrosie @simpluvrs @meko-mt
1K notes · View notes
elenadvrx · 3 months
Text
"princess, come on. i'm really sorry."
suna rintarou likes to play pranks on you. but this time, it went too far.
"no, suna. i don't want to talk to you." with a frown on your face and your arms crossed, you faced away from his general direction.
"suna?" he chuckled nervously, knowing you were really upset if you refused to call him 'rin' or 'baby'. "princess, i'm really sorry for doing that to you. i promise to not do that again, okay?" he tilted his head to try to get you to look at him.
a few days ago, you came home from work and wanted to cuddle with your boyfriend because you had a bad day at work. things weren't going as well as you hoped so you were looking forward to get some comfort in his arms. your heart ached when your silent request for cuddles were rejected but you brushed it off thinking that maybe he wasn't in the mood for it.
until the same thing happened the next day and the day after. whenever you initiated hugs or kisses, suna grunted and moved away, focusing on whatever was on his phone. not knowing what to do, you sat on the sofa and watched tv while suna continued to type away on his phone on the other end of the sofa. then, his phone rang and he answered the call.
"yeah, himeko? you need help? sure, i'll come over in a few." himeko. isn't she the one who was always fawning around suna?
before you could grasp what was happening, suna was already putting on his shoes. panicking, you rushed over towards him, "rin? where are you going?"
"hmm? i'm heading to himeko's. apparently she needs help with some stuff." to be honest, seeing the crestfallen expression on your face with those beady eyes, he hesitated to continue this prank but chose to press on. (tsk the ego)
"oh… okay." you hesitantly smile at suna, watching him leave through the door of your shared home.
when the door click shut, you stood at the same spot for what felt like an eternity before deciding to go back to sit on the sofa. millions of thoughts went through your mind, thinking about all the posibilities on what you may have done for him to have ignored you for three days but left immediately when another girl called for him.
what if he was tired of you? what if… he decided that himeko was actually so much better than you and was slowly distancing himself from you to prepare you for the eventual breakup? what if-
"princess, baby, i can't do it!" suna rushed through the door and head over to you to start explaining.
after a few minutes, he stopped talking and looked at you. he waited with bated breath for your scolding and beatings but none came.
which brings us back to the present.
facing away from him, your eyes started watering and your lips quiver. just a moment ago you were scared and anxious because you thought he was done with you, running away to be with another girl. and you never got that comfort from him since three days ago so all your feelings and emotions were pent up till now.
"princess? please, talk to me?" he spoke softly, so softly as if a glass would shatter if he were to speak any louder.
you hear hesitant patters of feet until suna's figure came into your peripheral, kneeling down before you and gently cupping your chin to make you face him instead. touch starved, his gentle touch made a tear run down your cheek, then down his hand.
"oh princess, i'm so sorry" suna's focused gaze on you got you crying and sobbing as you dove straight to his arms (which he let out an 'oomph' sound from the sudden impact), hiding your face on his chest.
feeling petty, you started punching his chest lightly but slowly start hitting him straight on with both your fists and palms, crying at the same time.
"ow ow! okay, yeah i deserve that but baby, could you hit me a little softer?" he chuckles trying to get a hold of your flailing arms. just as he got a hold on you, you immediately retracted your arms to cover your face.
"you're so mean! i really thought you were about to leave me and that you don't love me anymore!" more tears started trickling down before you could stop them. "i had a really bad day and all i wanted was to cuddle with you…" you started hicupping, emotions all over the place.
"hey, stop baby, i will always love you and i will never leave you, okay? i'm so stupid, gosh, i give you hitting privileges all you want. here, let me hit myself too." he hit himself on his head but winced when he did it too hard, rubbing the sore part.
chuckling a little at the sight, you started to calm down. "don't hit yourself, only i can hit you." you reached out to his head to help dissipate the soreness too.
grabbing your hand, suna softly kisses your inner wrist before releasing it to palm your face and start peppering kisses all over it, with soft "i love you"s in between. he gave a last kiss on your lips before releasing a soft sigh against it.
"i'm sorry, princess." he plopped his forehead to rest on your shoulder before tightly wrapping his arms around your waist.
"mm, you're forgiven. but do something stupid like this again and i'll leave your ass immediately." you reciprocate his embrace, one hand wrapping around his shoulder while the other slowly stroke his hair.
"fair. just know that i love you too much to let you leave me heh." placing a kiss on your neck, he retreated before lifting you up from the sofa to carry you to the bedroom.
"now, let's get the cuddles that you wanted and you tell me what happened at work. alright, princess?"
1K notes · View notes
sukunas-wife · 4 months
Note
Family time with baby Yuji ✨✨
Family time with Baby Yuji 🥹 I didnt know how to to go about it so I just rambled on 🤍 tysm for the ask
Tumblr media
When Yuji was a baby Sukuna loved cradling him in his massive arms despite denying it with a cough. When Yuji got older 4-8 he loves riding around on his dad’s shoulders, bragging on how strong his dad was and sticking his tongue out at kids who wanted to laugh. Of course there are plenty of times when as a family you’d go on walks and young Yuji would take falls from trying to grab a tree branch or his did stretching and shaking him off because he forgot Yuji was on his shoulders 🥹 Yuji would just sit up smiling rubbing the back of his head when you’d both turn back to make sure he was okay. Swatting Sukuna and telling him to be careful while he rolled his eyes setting Yuji back on shoulders, “I told ya woman he doesn’t weigh anything maybe if you fed him more he wouldn’t be this way!” Of course Sukuna being the good husband he is, he sighed and turned to look at his wife. Before he could saying anything he noticed a cut on his son’s knee and frowned. So he brought up a hand and used his reverse cursed technique to heal him, “Brat why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”
Or the time Yuji was crying because both of you left him with a baby sitter, not Uraume, not your lady in waiting. BUT A RANDOM LADY HE DIDNT KNOW he laid in his bed sniffling and crying. He refused to eat or leave his room all day. If you didn’t love him anymore you just had to tell him 😭 Both you and Sukuna hadn’t made it back till after sun set, to see the panicked baby sitter who was frantically explain how Yuji was reacting. So there you went sitting on the edge of his bed heart aching at his little whimpers and cries “Yuji, baby, please” laying your han son his back he squirmed away from you under the blanket. Sighing you watched Sukuna walk in sitting on his other wide, “Brat.” Was all he said as the mattress shifted under his weight, he laid a heavy hand on Yuji’s back. Yuji squirmed away bumping into you before moving back and pulling the blanket over his head to cover his tear stained puffy red face.
“Yuji.” Was all Sukuna had to say in a strict voice before he looking at his dad like he really did betray him. “You don’t love me anymore.” You looked away not wanting to laugh at your son especially when your husband was being firm with him. “I told you this morning your mother was leaving, I asked if you wanted to go with me and Uraume or stay home.” Yuji puffed his cheeks out “i said stay home because i thought you were gonna stay with me..” You stayed silent as the two had a stare off before Yuji sighed, he looked at you “you don’t love me either! You just left me!” You gasped “Yuji! I came to see you this morning before leaving and you said you wanted to sleep so you were gonna wait for daddy.” You fixed your stare on him and he huffed pulling the blanket over his head before the sniffles started up. Once again Sukuna said his name in a warning tone, before he sat up pushing the blanket off of him, “you left me alone all day and now you don’t want too.” “Stop acting like brat.” Was all Sukuna said before he hauled Yuji up and into his said while laying down in Yuji’s bed. The frame creaking obviously not made to hold Sukuna’s real weight, Yuji was still sniffling not hugging his dad back. Seeing Sukuna motion you over you got into Yuji’s bed, Sukuna turned to face you. Both you squishing Yuji in a hug while he sniffled and let the tears fall. “Yuji…” Sukuna’s voice was soft, you looked down at your son who chose bury his face in his dad’s chest, “I would never abandon you, you ARE my son i could never leave you behind or ..” he hesitated, “or stop… loving you. As long as you’re here, and I have life I will always come back for you and your mother.” Yuji rubbed his face back and forth on his dad’s chest mumbling an “‘m sorry.” Yuji tried to hold onto the both of you, and there you all slept, Sukuna hugging you and Yuji against his chest. That even when the bed frame cracked half way through the night no one moved a muscle.
There’s also that time when you decided to take Sukuna into town 😭 Yuji was holding your hand and his daddy’s hand. Both of your hold tight in his hands because he liked to run, jump and pull his legs up to swing by yours and Sukuna’s hands. Sure he was heavier at 6 but how could either of you say no to his little laughs and big smile? Even walking through the city when he let go your hand he persisted on walking funny as long as he could hold his daddy’s hand. Of course Sukuna got tired of having to lean down and hold Yuji’s hand so he shifted back to his “human” form. To which Yuji went back to grabbing your hand and his dad’s hand. Happily running between both of you to swing himself, the townspeople were almost in awe that Sukuna could show emotion other than displeasure, annoyance and bod thirst as he usually did when they would stand before him. They stood in disbelief that you really had managed to birth his son and that you and that son had managed to tame him enough that he didn’t just kill the man that accidentally knocked over a flower stand and splashed him with old plant water. Everyone watched as Sukuna’s free hand came up ready to slice the Man until they saw how his son pulled on his hand with a pout and pleading eyes. Sukuna sighing and pulling his robes off his shoulders to hang on his wait gave the vendor a fixed stare “Fools should know their place, you should take your place quickly.” Waving his hand he dismissed the vendor and you squeezed Yuji’s hand letting go. He smiled bright before hugging his dad’s arm, Sukuna tsk’ed but pulled Yuji into his side, “don’t think this changes anything brat.”
Then there was Sukuna falling sick 🫠 A real miracle right there on it’s own. Yuji refused to leave his side no matter how many times you dragged him with you. Sukuna would close his eye to rest when you’d close the door leaving with Yuji. Just to hear the door open, a sliver of light filling the room before the door closed and hearing the little patter of Yuji’s feet stopping by his bed side. He tried to force back his smile when Yuji pushed a chair to the bed and tried to replace the wet rag you had left on his forehead, anymore and he would’ve drowned with all the water Yuji poured on him. In the end Yuji crawled over him crawling under the blanket to hug his dad. He didn’t say anything just laid there like good moral support. Sukuna staring down at his son with soaking wet hair and a wet pillow sighed and wrapped an arm around his son pulling him closer, “You shouldn’t be here Yuji.” Yuji looked up at him with big eyes, “Your mom will wring you out if she finds you here.” “Then hide me!” Was all Yuji said pulling the blanket up over his head, “‘m not leaving.” Sukuna gave him a few heavy pats before leaning back into the wet pillow and throwing the sopping rag into the bowl of water, “Alright I warned ya.”
You could feel your eye twitch when you found them both passed out. Sukuna snoring and Yuji half on his chest going up and down with Sukuna’s breathing. “If he tried to hide it was terrible.” Was all you said getting closer, on the night stand half hanging onto the bowl was the soaking rag, wringing it out you placed it back on Sukuna’s forehead. Feeling Yuji’s forehead he was burning up. Leaning over your husband you fixed Yuji so he was laying down, he mumbled something in his sleep reaching out for your hand. Of course Sukuna hit you with a light smack on your rear and he chuckled, “don’t worry about him I’ll fix him up.” You watched as Sukuna started to sit up bringing you up with him, your son mumbling in his sleep trying to hug his daddy. You watched as he’s used his reverse cursed technique healing Yuji like it was nothing. “Ryomen.. if you can..” you stopped when Yuji barely opened his eyes blinking sleepily and reaching for you, “Don’t ask to many questions sweetheart, our son wants you here with us, “get in.” So you didn’t protest taking off your outter robe and getting into bed with your boys mumbling “so you were just looking for some attention hm?” Sukuna side eyed you with a smile before pulling you over to kiss the side of your temple, “Sure if that makes you feel better.”
Then there was Yuji’s birthday 🥹 all he wanted was to go out and play in the snow. “Mommy! Da-daddy?” He looked around your room, no one, he ran to the throne room, no one. Tea room? No, daddy’s bathing room? No. … separated rooms? No.. his room?! No ;-; he was on the verge of crying he couldn’t find Uraume either, so he walked to the kitchen reasoning he could eat something and keep looking later. That’s where he found you arguing with his dad and Uraume looking panicked. “ITS YUJI’S BIRTHDAY HE SHOULD EAT WHAT HE LIKES.” You argued back, “YUJI needs more meat on his bones I say we let Uraume work the kitchen as usual,” Sukuna slammed his fist on the table and you tilted your head giving him a look, “Lady y-NO” you held a hand up to Uraume smiling at him, “we’re going to fix this NOW.” You looked back at your husband, “you wanna eat what you wanna eat? Fine- but if that’s the case I’m taking Yuji to eat at his favorite noodle shop with or without you.” Slamming your own hand on the table it shook everything on the table. You and Sukuna dead set on one another, Uraume became nervous. Sukuna caught a quick glimpse of pink out the corner of his eye. Before he made a displeased face, “Fine, make what she tells you Uraume.” You smiled nodding, “Thank you.” You both watched as Sukuna left grumbling about it being his house why’s his wife bossing him around, Yuji still stood in the kitchen door smiling when his dad winked at him ruffling his hair as he passed by. You turned to Uraume “Make Sukuna a special plate, I swear when he’s hungry at night that thing has mind of its own and would probably take a bite out of Yuji.”Referring to his stomachs mouth, Uraume nodded with a smile “Yes Lady Y/n.”
You turned away from him grabbing a basket to leave when you see Yuji, “Hey sweetie,” you reached your hand out for him and he took it, “Ready to go outside?” He shook his head, “can’t find my coat,” you nodded “let’s go find it then.” Making your way to Yuji’s room you found Sukuna waiting and holding Yuji’s winter coat. “Took you long enough woman.” Yuji let go of your hand rushing to his dad who helped him with his coat, “come with us daddy!” You smiled watching Yuji pull his dads hand and arm. If there was one thing you didn’t understand it was Yuji’s obsession with the snow. Even when his fingers would turn read, and his nose and cheeks were nipped with red, he’d persist he could stay out another hour to play. Maybe it was because while you carried him in your womb, and as a baby you’d sit outside keeping him swaddled and warm in the cool. Remembering your own grandmother did the same, watching your cousins sleep calm and peacefully for so long. Yuji did the same, maybe that’s why he was so drawn to the snow. “Mommy! Cmon!” He waved his hand at you, he was building a snowman with his dad. Walking over you set down the basket on bench you usually sat on in the spring with Yuji, in the afternoon he’d lay his head on your lap yawning listening to birds chirping away while the cherry blossoms gave their last blooms. Falling asleep while you sat there rubbing his back and brushing your hand through his hair.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the bump you felt on your back. Turning around you saw Yuji getting a face full of snow “That’s my wife brat.” Yuji who was now laying in the snow sat up with snow ball “that’s my face!” Before smacking his dad with a snow ball. You couldn’t fight the smile watching them fight, laughing too hard when Sukuna was using one pair of arms to mass produce snow balls and the other to throw them. Yuji finally cried and ran over to hide behind you, “HELP MEEEE” at that point you were laughing hard and felt bad for not being to console your son, “i-I’m sorry-“ another wave of laughs, “Baby” he pouted crossing his arms while you took a deep breath, “You should’ve seen it, sweetie I’m sorry.” Ruffling his hair he still pouted looking at his dad who stood there proud, bare chest puffed out snow balls still in hand. “M cold.” You cleared the snow off the bench, “here I packed these for when you did get cold.” Turning to Sukuna he walked over snowball in hands as he dropped one on Yuji’s head, Yuji just shook his head clean sending snow everywhere. “Here,” you pulled out a smaller basket full of steamed milk buns for Yuji. Pulling out a second basket you offered them to Sukuna, “These were specifically made for you.” He grabbing one eating it in one bite, “it’s good, wouldn’t expect less from Uraume.” You grinned, “I made those.” Sukuna pulled you into his side by the waist, kissing your temple, “In that case they could be better,” he grinned down at you his eyes crinkling when you swatted his chest. Catching your hand against his chest he leaned down pressing his lips against the back of your hand, “They’re perfect don’t worry.” Smiling you pulled your hand free brushing his tussled slicked hair back as he hummed.
“ew,” Yuji’s voice broke the silence you your husband shared before Sukuna snatched his milk bun away, “whaddya mean ew?” He took a bite of the milk bun. “ew you and mommy!” He snatched another milk bun eating it and turning away when his dad tried to reach for it again. “Sit,” Yuji patted the spot next to him, Sukuna sat down spreading his legs out and pulling you to sit between himself and Yuji. Soon you all finished snacking, before Yuji begged to make a snow family. There you were, finding’s rocks and branches. Sukuna stacking the snow balls while Yuji tried to roll them. Sukuna’s Smow man was massive with Four stick arms and four rock eyes. Your snow lady had two arms and two eyes just shorter than Sukuna’s, and Yuji’s 🥹 Yuji’s snow man was built to his height which was still notably smaller than yours and Sukuna’s but the way he looked so proud rolling it to stand between the two bigger ones, he put a big smile on it, angling the arms up before he took an arm off of the others ones re stabbing them in from below, “Now they can hold hands.” You looked your husband who made a choking sounds before clearing his throat looking away using a hand to cover the liver half of his face. You rubbed your hand on his bare back and he looked at you. The soft smile you gave him was reassuring when he walked to stand behind your son. You watched as he hesitated before placing a hand on Yuji’s head pulling him into his side and rubbing his head, Yuji stayed leaning against his dad, before he looked back, waving his hand for you to get closer. Yuji looked up at his dad who picked him up, “alright, come here brat.” Standing beside Ryomen he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and waist, Yuji held on his other side. You turned hugging his waist. Staying like this until the snow started to fall and Yuji wiggled out of his dads grip.
Sitting on the same bench you stayed close to Sukuna, he hadn’t let you go after feeling how cold your hands were. “Ryomen…” his eyes were trained on his son when you looked up at him. He grunted in response, before clearing his throat. “y/n…” the silence hanging in the air. “I love you.” He never looked away from Yuji, before he turned to look down at you, bringing a free hand to your chin he angled your face up leaning in close, “Is that what you want me to say?” A grin broke out on his face when you blinked, he closed the gap and kissed you. Pulling away he angled your chin up and he kissed your neck nipping the skin, “I love you y/n.” It didn’t take long for Yuji to wear himself out when he came to crawl into your lap leaning back against your chest watching the snow fall. Soon he fell asleep across your lap, your head resting on Ryomen who laid his head over yours. His hand running up and down your back in a comforting manner, Yuji’s soft breaths. The falling snow and setting sun. “Happy Birthday Yuji.” You mumbled brushing his hair out his face, Sukuna smiled down at his sleeping son, “Happy Birthday brat.”
Tumblr media
@sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @domainofmarie @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @sakuxxi @mercymccann
1K notes · View notes
aureatchi · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
⛇₊˚ʚ₊˚✧ AND I CHOSE YOU, ‘CAUSE YOU’RE ALL I NEED ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor, nikolai
Tumblr media
some winter prompts/scenarios with the bsd men…and other romantic things they spoil you with.
info. fem!reader. fluff fluff !! domestic moments. profanities from chuuya. established relationships. kissing. mentions of a fake! machete from nikolai lmao.
Tumblr media
DAZAI says: it’s too cold to get out of bed! can’t we just stay in and cuddle?
As soon as your eyes fluttered open, you were greeted with the realization that it was far too late to wake up at this time on a weekday. You could see the sun outside your window, overlooking the blanket of snow that had fallen the night before. Panicking, you tried to turn towards your nightstand to catch a glimpse of your clock to confirm your thoughts, but a leg wrapping around your waist stopped you.
“Osamu?”
“Morning, beautiful,” Dazai’s sleepy voice replied, continuing to trap you in an embrace with his arms.
“What time is it?” you asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, but that only made you feel even more uneasy. You forcefully shifted out of his grasp to look at your clock—woah, you were both supposed to be at work an hour ago.
You sat up on the bed, startling Dazai. “Osamu! We’re supposed to be at work! Why didn’t the alarm go off…I haven’t played with it lately…”
Another realization. You sharply eyed Dazai with a frown, who, in contrast, had his signature mischievous smirk on his face, even through tired eyes.
“Did you turn it off?!”
“Huh?” He yawned. “Now, why would you accuse me of such a thing? I don’t see why the alarm should be turned off.”
“Exactly!” you replied. “But who else could’ve done it? A ghost?”
“Hmm.” He tapped his index finger on his chin in thought. “Oh, I know!
“How about fate?” His hand moved to cup your cheek as he answered you in a flirtatious voice. You tried not to cringe at how corny he sounded. “What if fate wanted us to miss work today so we can stay in and spend time together inste-”
“Now this is where you gave yourself away!” you cut him off, moving towards the end of the bed to stand up. “Who said we’re missing work? It’s better to be late than not show up at al-”
Dazai grabbed your arm, pulling you back in.
“Osamu!”
“Yeah, unless you’re sick! Wouldn’t want to infect everyone else with a cold, right?”
“But none of us are sick?”
“Too bad,” he whispered, pulling you back under the covers. “I already called the Agency. I told them that…” he made dramatic coughing sounds, “...you were sick, and of course, you got me sick too!”
“What?!” you were in disbelief. “You liar! You could’ve at least not put the blame on me!”
“Oh, don’t be mistaken! I said it was my fault—you just looked so adorable while sick, I just had to cuddle up with you the whole night! So naturally, I got sick too. Isn’t that believable? I’d do the same if it actually happened.”
You facepalmed. “You’re not making it past Ranpo.”
“Don’t worry about him. I’ve taken care of that too,” Dazai smiled. There was no getting around Ranpo, but it would only be a problem if he exposed the lie. So, Dazai had bought him a stockpile of snacks to keep his mouth shut.
You sighed before snuggling up against him. It looks like you weren’t going anywhere today. Not that you were complaining anymore—if your lover handled everything anyway.
“So why did you want to stay in?” you asked.
“Because I knew I’d feel cold if I got out of bed.” The brunette’s fingers started stroking through your hair as you rested your head on his chest, relaxed by both his hand and the faint thump of his heartbeat.
“That’s it?” you laughed. “You didn’t want to be cold?”
“That, and because I want to spend time with my belladonna, duuh.” Dazai turned you around so he could see your face.
“You look pretty. Just like an angel, more bonny than any other snow angel.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as his eyes studied you in admiration, flustering you. You were in awe that he could call you that when you had just woken up—you probably looked like a mess. He was the one who looked lovely—amber eyes peeking through his untidy hair and pretty eyelashes, the faint pink that surged through his cheeks when you kissed his knuckles, his bandaged chest that was revealed under his slightly unbuttoned pajamas…Dazai looked as dreamy as hearing his morning voice. And man, was it attractive, too.
He gave innocent pecks from one corner of your mouth to the other, and you reciprocated. You gently peppered each other’s faces with sleepy kisses until you rested on his torso again.
“That’s right, bella,” he cooed, rubbing your back. “We can relax today.” You wrapped your arms around him, enjoying the warmth he provided. “And if you’re hungry, we can order something from wherever you want later, yeah?”
You nodded with a smile. “Sounds perfect.”
Tumblr media
CHUUYA says: let’s go ice skating, darling!
“C’mon, doll, it’s okay. Promise I’ll catch you if you slip!”
A local lake had frozen over, and you’d always wanted to learn how to ice skate, so Chuuya saw it as the perfect opportunity to teach you. Yet now, you stood at the edge with your skates, intimidated by the sapphire water that rested below the thin layer of ice and having nowhere to hold onto for support. Thankfully, it was just the two of you there; you would’ve felt even more nerve-wracked if others were watching.
“You’re so rude, Chu! You left me!” you whined, your voice traveling across the serene scenery. Chuuya simply laughed—he had skated a few feet off into the lake, waiting for you to follow. Yet, to you, it seemed so much farther than that.
“I’m right here!” he replied. He motioned for you in a way that reminded you of how a parent encourages a baby to take their first step. “Here, baby!” He cooed, holding his arms out. “You can do it.”
“Are you mocking me?! You’re talking to me like a little girl!”
“You are my girl though, sweetheart,” the ginger responded.
You sighed, your breath visible as it fanned out into the cold. “There has to be some sort of compensation, though, if I do fall!”
“I’ll massage whatever hurts if anything does,” he promised.
“Fair.” Chuuya’s massages were priceless.
You slowly stepped onto the ice, trying to keep balance on the blades attached to your feet. You looked up at Chuuya, panicking.
“Bend your knees.” You immediately followed, which helped you stabilize yourself.
“Now push off from one knee to the other,” Chuuya continued. Slowly, you started moving towards him, skating into his arms when you reached him.
“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” he smirked through the embrace. “Good job. Now c’mon.”
Chuuya started leading you across the ice, helping you get used to the rhythm and being in sync with each other. Once he saw you get the hang of it, he suggested something.
“We can go really fast, yknow,” Chuuya proposed. “If you want…I think it’ll be exciting.”
“Exactly how fast?” you asked.
“I’d use my ability to enhance it,” he smiled. You knew that would speed you up tons.
“Okay,” you said after contemplating for a few seconds. “I trust you.”
Chuuya moved in front of you to hold your hands in his. “Hold on tight, baby!”
You gripped onto the executive as he activated his ability. And with one push, after making sure you knew it was coming, you two zoomed across the lake, wind breezing past you. You screamed—in surprise, fear, and exhilaration, as Chuuya steered you both, even more talented doing it backwards.
“Damn, you’re flying, doll!” he exclaimed and loosened his grip on one of your arms. Chuuya spun you around on the ice as he slowed the both of you down, bringing you to a complete stop with a kiss.
“Already like a pro,” he praised. “You learned so fast. And what’d I say? I promised I wouldn’t let you fall.”
You chuckled, feeling warmth heat up your frost-nipped cheeks as Chuuya cupped your face with his fingers. “I still want a massage, though. Pleeease?”
He smirked. “Fuck, I could never refuse since you asked so nicely. And I guess you deserve something for doing so well on skates. Of course.”
“Yay!” You cheered as you skated in a circle around Chuuya before connecting his lips with yours once again.
“This was incredibly fun, Chu.”
Tumblr media
FYODOR asks: is the fireplace not enough? you need me to warm you up, too?
“It’s cold.”
You and Fyodor were in a cabin high up in the mountains, the epicenter of planning his next mission. Fyodor often traveled, and you always accompanied him, despite his warnings of how boring those journeys would be because his attention would be mainly focused on his paperwork and mapping out the areas by the temporary headquarters.
You always reassured him you were completely fine with it. You understood his job and were used to him not having his attention on you all the time. You were content reading through his collection of novels with his cursive annotations scribbled throughout the pages to pass the time while he sat devising schemes.
Though right now, you were starting to shiver, even below the three layers of your sweater. The heat radiating from the candle on the desk you sat reading at wasn’t enough—you were still cold.
“Put your coat on,” Fyodor replied from another table. He had let you have the true desk by the bookshelf with the comfy chair to lounge in while he took the dining table.
“It’s too bulky. It’ll be uncomfortable,” you said, gliding your hand over a page.
You heard a sigh. “Must you always choose comfort over practicality?”
“Of course, when I have the privilege,” you chuckled. “Can I light the fireplace?”
Fyodor looked up from his work. “Yes, I’ll help you.”
“Are you sure? You seem busy. I can do it myself.”
“No worries, as long as you don’t distract me with anything else.”
You gave him a knowing smirk. “I’m not sure if I can guarantee that,” you replied as you headed for the wooden logs in the back. Fyodor followed you, helping you carry a few over to the fireplace.
You ensured all the air vents were open as he threw the wood in, starting the fire with a lighter. Fyodor sat in the single armchair right in front of it, checking to see if it was stable from afar.
“How’s this?” he asked, watching you on the floor, getting close to feel the flames. “Warming up?”
“Yes,” you responded, turning towards him.
“Good. You can sit here while I return to-“ he was both cut off in speech and from getting up when you lowered yourself onto his lap. “Milaya…“
“I warned you I couldn’t guarantee it,” you whispered, straddling him. You weren’t forceful—each move was as graceful as a ballerina’s glide, and it was probably because, despite his words, Fyodor differed to fight back.
“Stay for a little, please,” you softly pleaded, trapping the ravenette even more by wrapping your arms around his neck. “Can you take a short break?”
“You’re asking me as if you’re giving me a choice,” Fyodor chuckled, still seeing you give him no room to leave. “Fine. I’ll indulge in your wants this once.”
“It’s more of indulging in my needs,” you corrected him, looking into violet eyes. You then picked up the book you had been reading earlier to continue.
“Enjoying it so far?” he asked, moving the hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ears.
“Yeah. But I’m not going to lie, I think I like your annotations more than the actual book.”
“How flattering.” Fyodor smiled. “I enjoyed reading it a lot, too, though. That’s why I wrote so much.” You flipped open to the page you left off on when you suddenly had an idea.
“What if you read to me?” you asked with a giggle.
His face showed rare, genuine surprise for a moment. “Hm? It’s not like this is some bedtime story…
“I’m not against it, though.”
And so, he started reading to you. You sang in victory in your head because though you would never admit it to him—Fyodor had too much ego for you to heighten it even more—you loved his voice. His accent laced the words of the plot that resumed as he spoke from page to page.
You couldn’t think of anything more perfect. Hearing the satisfying tone of his tongue accompanied by the ambiance of the fireplace and the flipping of pages…you could stay nuzzled up against him like this forever.
“I thought you said you were enjoying it,” Fyodor paused after some time, noticing your eyelids drooping and head limp against his shoulder. “Yet you’re falling asleep.”
“I am,” you said, your words slurring. “I’m just really comfy like this. It feels cozy…makes me sleepy…”
You tucked your face into his neck. Fyodor gently closed the book before wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Well, it can’t be helped…” he whispered. “Sweet dreams, dorogaya.”
Tumblr media
NIKOLAI says: let’s build a snowman!
“Why are you putting the carrots for eyes?” You shook your head in disappointment as you watched Nikolai create his ‘snowman.’ It hardly looked like one, honestly. The only thing normal about it was the base—which you had helped him with. Three spheres of snow stacked upon each other to make the snowman’s body. The rest…was very Nikolai.
He had put the carrots as the eyes. And the snowman had three orange, pointy eyes. As for the mouth, he sculpted a smile out of clay, which was fine, but of course, he made it in a way that looked very ominous. Then, the jester had decorated it with a bunch of colorful pom-poms. The whole thing was very random, but you knew something like this was coming.
“And finally!” Nikolai pulled out a fake plastic machete.
“Kolya, what the heck?! Now, we really can’t leave this here! What if some kid stumbles upon it and takes the knife?”
“It’s fake, baby, don’t worry!” He replied, running his finger along the sharp end.
“Well, yeah, but still! I don’t think anyone’s parents would appreciate that!”
Nikolai sighed before a portal appeared, swallowing his entire snowman and the machete inside.
“You play too safe sometimes, love.”
“Where did you transport that to?!”
“The Sky Casino,” he giggled. “I’m sure Sigma will find the new decoration lovely!” You immediately felt pity towards the poor man—you imagined him having to clean up a puddle of melted snow and other objects in the casino.
You just stood for a moment before Nikolai spoke again.
“Okay, I’ll actually make something you like,” he said. “Could you help me with the base?”
You didn’t know what he was going to do next, but you helped him anyway after making him promise he wasn’t going to pull out anymore weapons, real or fake. You stacked the snow on top of each other and waited to see what he was going to do next.
Nikolai transported two buttons that reminded you of your eye color to place on the snowman’s face as its eyes. He then used two sticks to create a cute smile. Then, he pulled out a hat and scarf that looked like the exact ones you were wearing…
“Wait, huh?” You glanced down at your attire and then at the articles, you saw Nikolai dressing the snowman in. “Where did you even get that?”
“The place where you got yours, duh!” he responded. You tried to push away the thought in your head that he most likely stole it. But now, you understood what he was doing. So, while he finished replicating you, you started a snowman right next to his.
“Kolya, can you please let me borrow your top hat? And a green and a gray button?”
His face grew elated. “Sweet dove! You’re doing what I’m doing!” He summoned what you had asked for. “Here you go!”
In the end, Nikolai had created a snowman of you, and you had built a snowman of him. It made your heart warm at how sweet it was.
“Yours looks so cute!” you exclaimed, looking at the one of yourself. You then teased him. “Honestly, I’m surprised you were capable of this.”
“No snowman will ever be as cute as you,” he responded with a wink. “And what can I say? I’m full of surprises.” He then threw himself onto you.
“And you made me! My heart could burst right now…look at us together!” You felt everything happen at once after that—one moment, Nikolai was spinning you in the air, absolutely thrilled, and the next, his lips sealed yours in a passionate kiss.
“Quiz time,” Nikolai whispered on your mouth.
“What must’ve I done to deserve the best girl in the world?”
Tumblr media
rbs are cherished; they are your christmas gift to me <3
tags : @kissesmellow21
Tumblr media
© AUREATCHI 2023. no reposts or translations. do not steal. support banner + heart lights divider by benkeibear.
1K notes · View notes
Note
Hi!! I really love your writting🥰 i would like to request for the self-aware au, Reader hiding behind them after being chased by some particularly pushy NPCs with Rook, Trey, and Jack please❤️
Self-aware au
I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, murder, description of violence, blood, obsession, stalking
Trey Clover/Jack Howl/Rook Hunt-Hiding behind them
Tumblr media
Ah, what a nice day. In fact, it is perfect for trying out that recipe with that dough that needed to rest for a while
Or rather, that was his plan for the day until he suddenly heard two pairs of footsteps rushing into the dorm kitchen
And no, it was not the kind of footsteps that spoke of joy like the ones of his siblings did. from time to time, it sounded panicked
Just a second later you entered the kitchen with an octavinelle student, the latter one trying to catch up to you
Before the baker could figure out what was going on, you were suddenly behind him, using his body as a shield
Oh… oh!
Was this guy harassing you?
How dare he? How dare-
Deep breaths. Very deep breaths - would be something he would have said to himself if he wasn't this angry
By some miracle, he was able to hold himself together
He was this close to loose his reputation as "that nice hat wearing baker"
A strict look towards the student and you were finally alone with him
For you the whole thing was over but for that student?
Suddenly the poor lad fell ill, claiming that he had stomach problems
Heck, he couldn't even keep his food down
Such a shame... Trey surely hoped he would survive
Who else could he secretly gift those cakes? You? Oh no... It's just that he experiments with some new recipes...
Ignore that bottle in the cupboard
Tumblr media
Jack is someone who keeps his friends very close and is not afraid to stand up for them
Only that he saw you as someone more precious than a friend
So when he saw you running away from a student and slipping behind him he saw the world just a tiny bit tinted red
The young wolf beastman isn't someone who uses violence just because he can do or feel like using it
(Honestly, at this point he is more like your little dog than some fearsome wolf)
Just because he didn't turn the student into very biological and mushy fertiliser for the flowers then and there doesn't mean he was calm though
Grabbing the not so nice company of yours, he told you to not worry and leave your little problem to him
Ah yes, Jack Howl, that kind acquaintance of yours
How nice of him
But you know, there are also tales about wolves acting as if they are kind just to devour you
Of course Jack didn't do that
Does not mean that things went as peaceful as you thought they did after you left
Jack usually keeps his instincts under control but on that evening he had to cut his nails very short and scrub his hands
Anyone would be horrified after the sensation of calcium breaking under their hand, splintering like old, dried out wood under a saw
He should feel guilty but... it was hard to do so
Which brings us back to a sink being used by a certain beastman
Geez, some things are so hard to get off of skin once it dries, wouldn't you agree?
Tumblr media
First of all, it's a wonder the hunter wasn't watching you from a tree (or something like that... who knew bushes could walk in this world)
If he had he would have immediately revealed himself by slithering in between you and that oh so foolish first year
But alas, apparently a miracle happened and this time it was you seeking out him
When Rook heart the certain sound of your shoes hitting the ground he was swivelling around, a poem about his devotion towards you already on his tongue...
And them you hid behind his arm curtains (you know, their dorm uniforms sleves)
Did hiw beloved Overseer, perfection and liberatir in person finally choose him as their most favorite- no? Ok that's cool too
If this was any other situation he would have started a speech in his wannabe French, stating how short he was by your rejection
But right now he had to deal with your little stalker (don't try to act all innocent, Rook, you did the same many more times than they ever could without being noticed)
Trying to calm you down the hunter brought you to Pomfiore
And nothing weir happened
No I am not joking, Rook was his usual normal self (if we want to call at best flirtatious remarks and at worst frantic devoted ramblings normal)
From then on you were much closer to the hunter
Especially after a body was found
And oh, how grateful Rook was for not having the time to get rid of the body on that day
Of course, he had noticed how ce fou followed you two to the dorm
How trusting you were when he told you that he wanted to get you two something to drink...
And there the parasite still was, lingering around the entrance of his dorm
The only regret Rook had was finishing his job so quickly
It was always such a bore whenever his prey wouldn't squirm
Well, at least you were now close to him
Just be careful, the hunter was also back then the one bringing her highness a false heart. Who knows how much he would lie to get you all to himself?
Uh and… maybe don't open that box he has in his room in a cooler. He told you he keeps some sort of trophy in there and I think that is all we need to know
845 notes · View notes
screeching-bunny · 1 year
Note
Part 2 on the Yandere supernatural heram please.
Yandere! Supernatural Harem pt.2
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
Tumblr media
Pt.1
Your first ever viable memory was of a supernatural creature. At the young age of three, you encountered an extremely tall woman with long black hair dressed in a white dress. Looking back at the memory, she ended up turning out to be an urban legend called Hachishakusama. The eight feet tall women loomed down over you and followed you wherever you went. Everytime she was nearby you could hear her utter the sound “po” over and over again. Anytime you brought this up to your parents they would just brush it off as you being imaginative and thought that you made an imaginary friend. “Would your friend like to join us for dinner tonight?” Never, would they actually take your comments.
It wasn’t until you got tired of her appearance did you actually start to confront her. With your limited variety of vocabulary and baby voice, you spring out the sentence of “Why you follow me?” Only to be met with silence as you stomp your little feet on the ground. Geez how rude of her didn’t she hear that you asked a question?
Suddenly, the woman reaches her arms out to grab you. The grip of her hug was strong and firm. You were barely able to move around that much. Your tiny little brain panicked as you struggled to get free. It was the first time that you’ve ever experienced real fear. Soon, the woman opened her mouth and said, “Won’t you come home with me child. I’ll make sure to take care of you and treat you better than your biological parents.” You didn’t get a chance to respond before your mother burst into your room and screamed.
After that incident your parents took you to a Buddhist temple so that you could be dispelled from evil spirits or entities. This however, never really worked because some form of shape or another they just kept on crawling back. When your parents thought that you were safe you were finally able to leave the temple. Your parents wanted you to be extra safe so they decided to move out of the house and buy a new one. Thankfully, due to this incident they were more aware and took your concerns about others very seriously from then on.
Another vivid memory that you could recall was when you were at the age of eight. It was at the time when your new neighbors moved into the house next to yours. Your father wanted to greet your new neighbors and took you along with him. You remember waiting on their doorstep as your father knocks on the door. A few minutes pass and he knocks again. “Maybe they're not home, let’s come back later.” Just then the door swings open and out comes a tall blonde man. “Hi, we’re your new neighbors. We just came by to greet you and welcome you to our neighborhood.” The blonde man stared for a second before saying, “Thanks so much for that and your formalities. You have such a cute kid. I have two twin boys about their age, do you think they could play together?”
Just like that you were in the neighbor’s yard with his two twin sons. They were definitely an odd bunch with long bangs covering your eyes. Even though you couldn’t see them, you could feel their eyes following your form. As time went on hanging around them wasn’t that bad; they were very nice to be around and listen to basically everything you said. The only problem was that they were overly clingy, everywhere you were they just had to be as well. Another red flag was that they would never allow you to see their eyes no matter how much you pleaded and pestered, they would never allow you to see their eyes.
By the time that you were in the fifth grade, you three were inseparable best friends. During your time with them however, students at your elementary school started to go missing more frequently. An incident that you could remember was when you told the twins that you liked some kid and were planning to confess soon. A few weeks later your crush was missing and a community search was sent out. No matter how hard everyone looked no one could find them, it was almost as if they had disappeared out of thin air.
As the years went on more creatures showed up to you but they seemed to be intercepted by some weird force. You made sure to keep this a secret from everyone but your parents. It wasn’t until your senior year of high school that you found out the truth about your two best friends. One day, you just got so curious about what their eyes looked like that you peaked at one of the twin’s eyes when he was his face. His eyes were pitch black and darker than charcoal. Even though you didn’t know it at the time, they were called black eyed children.
Safe to say, you were extremely creeped out by this discovery but were even more creeped out that they were planning on kidnapping you to some faraway place. Yeah heck no, so on the day of graduation, you decided to run away from home to get away from them. You then wrote a letter to your family basically saying, “Yeah, so my childhood friends aren't actually human and it’s best I leave before anything happens to you or me peace out, xoxo your child.”
Leaving home was pretty rough for you. You’ve never felt so alone before in your entire life and to top it all off you were a newly fresh adult. Making it into an adult transition was difficult and confusing but you somehow managed with that.
Blasting into the future now, you were in quite a predicament. Waking up with your limbs tied to a bedpost was not your ideal way of starting your morning but hey at least your kidnapper didn’t you hard rope. Instead, it was a really thick ribbon and lace that bonded your arms. Your eyes start to adjust to the light as your vision starts to get clearer you notice that most of the furniture is Victorian styled. Soon you hear footsteps reach to the and it starts to open.
“My love, it seems that you're finally awake. Oh how I’ve dreamed of this moment, I can’t believe that this is real.” Wow this was totally not creepy whatsoever. Taking in his appearance you notice his sharp fangs and long glistening hair. Yeah he is definitely a vampire, this is so annoying you really did not feel like being a blood bag right now.
“Can you please untie me? I promise not to run away.” Before you could get a response from him, the ground suddenly started to shake, and you could feel your arms being freed. As you get up to run from your captor, you feel the arms of someone grabbing your waist. In a blink of an eye, you feel someone lift you up and fly you away from the vampire. “GOD DAMN IT, NOT THIS AGAIN.”
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
cherry-leclerc · 6 months
Text
thinking of her ☆ cl16
genre: angst, marriage trope
word count: 1.8k
You and Charles take a visit to marriage counseling.
inspired by this !
req!... had some free time to write so thought i would work on a request i just got! short one, but i hope you enjoy :)
Tumblr media
“Tell me why you’re both here.”
The room is silent and slightly cold. A large canvas hangs right in front of you as you take time to pretend you care about the family painted on it. Part of you actually does.
“Well, she thought it would be a good idea to drag us into this.”
Your eyes flicker to Charles and you would only hope that he could tell that you weren’t impressed by his answer. It was true, it was your idea to go to couple’s counseling, but only because you cared. You cared a lot. Sometimes you thought for sure he didn’t anymore.
“Honey, tell me what made you decide this.”
You wanted to burst with anger. To prove to her that this wasn’t completely your fault. He wasn’t perfect, he tested your patience and despite it all, you still loved him enough to try and salvage your marriage. 
Your therapist stares back, pen ready to scribble possible solutions as if her words would really matter. Maybe, deep down, you didn’t like being here either, but you wanted to prove to Charles how he’s been a shit husband. 
You wanted someone to back you up.
Taking a deep breath, you play with your wedding band. The one that you would normally admire, but now it just felt like pure suffocation. “He’s given me plenty of reasons to not trust him the way I once did and now I sit here like a fool thinking he might change.”
The way her pen glides is something you hate. 
Looking back up at you both she takes a moment to analyze the couple. Charles sits with a blank expression, as if he really did have somewhere better to be. In his mind, he did. Then, there was you. Regardless of your words pouring with pure vexation, your body language displayed something else. 
Your eyes were sad and tired. She easily noticed the way your hand would want to reach out to Charles, but would quickly grip tighter to your lap.
“Please, if you don’t mind, would you care to explain.”
You press your lips together. “I first noticed a difference 2 years into our marriage.”
-
“Chicken or fish?” 
It was Charles’ day off from work in a long time and you were currently on a call with Pascale trying to figure out what to surprise him with. He always raved about how much he loved what you cooked for him. 
“Fish. You guys were just here yesterday and I made grilled chicken, remember?”
You hum as you get into your car and start driving to the market. The conversation is cut short when you finally reach your destination. Walking through the aisle you decide it would be a fine idea to grab some wine you both love. 
“Charles?” The brunette looks up, red wine in his hand, as you smile a bit confused. “What are you doing here? I thought you were playing padel with Lorenzo.” 
“I was! Finished the game early and thought I would grab us some wine for later.” He gets closer as he kisses you and takes the kart from you. “Shopping for dinner?” You nod.
“Thought it’d be nice…” You look at the bottle and yes it’s red, but it's not the kind you both like. “Honey, you got the wrong one.” A panicked look flashes his face before he lets out a nervous laugh. Of course! I’ll change it right now.
-
“It only took a couple more slip ups for me to find out.”
The therapist nods as her attention turns to Charles, where he plays with his bracelets. “And what made you stay?” You want to laugh. Are we just going to spend time on me? She shakes her head. “We’ll get to him, I just want to hear from you first.”
“After I confronted him he swore he’d stop seeing her. I guess it was my fault for even believing him.”
-
“Amour!”
He runs into the living room, kitchen, basement, everywhere. Breathing hard he looks around the house as if the furniture will give up and tell him where you are. A loud thud echoes from upstairs. Two steps at a time, he darts up quickly into your bedroom. His heart stops when he sees you packing a suitcase. What are you doing?
You don’t answer. Don’t even spare a passing glance. Instead you slip the gold band off your finger as you throw it behind you. It only falls a few steps in front of him. He picks it up as he makes his way to you. “I’m so sorry.”
Your back faces him, but you don’t dare make a single sound. You curl your hand against the dress you were folding, bite hard on your lip to not let out a single sob. But your chest hurts, your tears feel like acid against your skin and you’re almost thankful for pain like that, that way what Charles did wouldn’t be the only thing that hurt.
He makes his way to kneel down in front of you as you stare down at the carpet. You had begged him only a few days ago to put down the deposit on it and for a while he said it wouldn’t be financially responsible, but later agreed. You hated the carpet now.
“Why? Just why?”
He’s far too embarrassed to even come up with an answer. “...I don’t know.”
When you finally look up at him he sees what he’s caused. Your eyes are bloodshot as your nose is rosy. Cheeks are so bright pink, it almost looked as if someone pinched them. 
You let out a wet laugh as you drop your hands against your lap. “You know, when I woke up this morning and you were gone I thought to myself, ‘Wow. What did I do to deserve a husband who wakes up early enough to get me breakfast on my birthday?’ And I waited. And waited. But whatever! That’s fine! He probably got busy. Then Pascale called to confirm if we were still going out for dinner, to which I said, ‘Yes! Of course!...Yes, the gold bracelet! It was beautiful, thank you for helping him pick it out.’ I thought it was sweet, I did, but you never came. And again, the presents are not what mattered, but it was you. I texted you. I called you. I told myself you were probably too busy planning something sweet the way you always did. They all asked where you were and I had to lie and tell them you were going to be late. Do you know how stupid I felt when I saw you and her enter the restaurant holding hands? And then what did I do? I purposefully had you see me run out so you could chase after me, so that your family would never find out about your…fling.”
Charles keeps bowing his head lower and lower almost as if to hide from his mistakes.
“...So where’s my bracelet, huh? Because you got it for me for my birthday, right?” Extending your hand out hurts because you know deep down it was never for you. 
“I don’t have it…” You click your tongue as you retract your arm. Of course you don’t, you seethe. With all your strength, you stand with wobbly knees as you start to walk away. 
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”
And he should feel relieved, but instead he feels like a complete asshole. How could he ruin things with his wife who swore to love him with all her being? He knew you well enough to know that you always will and he couldn’t let that go. He would fix this.
He runs to the door to close it. Move, you spit out. He shakes his head as he hugs you. 
“S-stop,” you say in a shaky voice as warm tears begin to flow once more. “It’s okay, just let me go…”
You go stiff when you realize he’s crying into your neck. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…He just keeps repeating it and you can’t stop yourself from hugging him back. He loved you and you loved him. That’s all that mattered.
“Just don’t do it again, okay?”
-
“So he cheated: you forgave him. He put her first and your marriage second.”
You flinch at her words because they only remind you how true they are. For a while, you thought you could both get over it, but you never really did. Not when you were already both standing on opposite sides of the road.
“Mom always did say I always saw the best in people.”
“And you…” Charles gulps. “What made you fall into an affair?”
Months ago, when you first found out, he didn’t have any answer to that question. But he did now.
“I wasn’t smart enough to appreciate my wife.” He looks at you as you avoid eye contact because you know the moment you looked into his eyes, you would fall all over again.
But you still did.
His eyes are sorry, you could tell, and the way his hand makes his way to you is enough for you to grow warm despite the cold room. 
“I’ve made plenty of mistakes - I know that - but none of them could compare to what I did to us. For putting you through so much doubt…For making you think I didn’t love you, but I always did.”
You're crying now as you nod because this is all you ever needed to hear.
“If this was the bump in the road that we had to overcome to grow closer then I accept it because I love you too, Charles. It’s about time you realized that.”
-
Charles feels lighter, happier. Now that he gets to hold your hand after many fights, he’s reminded about all the things he loves about you. But nothing could have prepared him for you to let go of his hand.
“I want a divorce.”
He’s stunned. W-what? We just decided that we were fine, that we were moving on…
You shake your head as you laugh. “My apologies, God, did I make you believe a lie? Feels awful, doesn’t it?”
He furrows his brows as he tries to reach out for you but you keep stepping further back. “Back there you almost had me…You said, ‘...none of them would compare to what I did to us.’ Us. Did you suffer? Did you spend countless, empty nights, crying yourself to sleep wondering what you did wrong? No, because it was all me. It wasn’t what you did to us, it's what you did to me.” You spin your ring one last time before slipping it off and placing it in his hand. He wants to say something to make you change your mind, to oversee his past mistakes one more time, because he swore to himself it would be the last time. But he could tell you’ve made up your mind. You twist your heel, ready to walk away before taking one last look into his green eyes you once loved.
“And the baby is getting my last name.”
2K notes · View notes
rae-writes · 8 months
Note
when it's time for mc to return to their original timeline how do you think the [nightbringer] characters would react if mc told them that they were from future and it's time for them to go back to the present timeline and that they'd meet them then
The common room was silent— so silent, it sounded like the entire Devildom was sleeping all at once. There was tension so thick you could cut it by just swiping at the air- there were eleven pairs of eyes trained onto Mc; the single tear that dripped down their face was like a harsh shock wave.
"I'm sorry...but I have to leave- I have to go back to my timeline now..I'll see you again when I return, okay? I promise."
Tumblr media
Lucifer is absolutely flabbergasted, red eyes wide as he scanned your face for any signs of humor, but you weren’t joking. His hands trembled uncharacteristically, fingers twitching as he stretched his arm out to try and grab at you; "What do you mean you have to go? Don't...your place is here, with us, you can't leave- what the hell do you mean you'll see me 'when you return', I'm me! I'm right here! Don't go-!"
Mammon doesn't fully process your words, only really catching the part where you said you had to leave. He feels nauseous and scared as he immediately begins to stammer and stumble over to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer so he can feel that you’re still there; "Y-you can't leave! Why would you want to leave- your home is here, you belong with us- with me- I'm right here, where are you going? Don't leave me behind! I-I need you! Please!"
Levi instantly has tears in his eyes, too preoccupied with watching you start moving away from him to realize you said you’d see him again. His tail whips out to circle your waist, arms frantically grabbing at you as he cries; "W-w-wait-! D-don't go, don't leave...did I do s-something- a-are you leaving because of m-me? I-I'll fix it, I p-promise, just please don't go..."
Satan's first instinct is to get angry- to throw a fit and throw anything in reach and scream and lash out, but he just stands there staring at you. He understands the concept of time travel and other timelines- he's read all about it- and essentially knows that he'll see you in less than a minute once you go back, and yet...; "Leaving...? You're leaving? I- I don't...I don't want you to go..don't-...just..Mc, please."
Asmo hears everything you're saying, but he just doesn't understand! He practically curls his whole body around you as he stutters through his denial, trying so hard not to cry because it would ruin his makeup; "What do you mean you're leaving, hon? Time travel is nonsense..you belong here, with us! Y-you're not actually going to leave me, right? Not me...don't leave me.."
Beel immediately panics as his thoughts run rampant about losing you and never getting to see you again, despite you assuring him that you'd see him very soon- he can't lose someone close to him again, not you- and the way he grabs onto you shows his desperation; "No! I-I mean...no, you can't leave us- why would you leave us? I thought you were at home here, with us, please...I can't lose you, too..."
Belphie, like his twin, is panicking- but he's in a hysterical panic. He breaks down into sobs and apologies right at your feet- apologizing for any time he was snippy with you and especially the time he got so mad he almost hurt you after finding out you were human- he's so sorry, just..don't leave-!; "No, no, no! You can't! You can't leave us, please, don't leave, I'm sorry! I'm sorry for everything I've done wrong to you- just don't leave me! Please, don't leave me..."
Diavolo understands the concept of what you're saying, though it's still hard for him to grasp the fact that you're leaving to go back to a different him...why couldn't you just stay with him in this 'timeline'? Didn't...didn't you still like him either way?; "What...what? Mc, I don't understand...just stay. Here. With- with me, with us, I don't...why must you go back? Don't you like it here?"
Barbatos shouldn't be worried. He knows exactly what you're talking about and what you mean by 'see you again when I return' and yet he can't help but feel at a loss, torn between letting you just walk away or trying to stop you- he doesn't want you to go back to future him...he wants you here with this him; "I...wait, Mc..don't-...don't go back. Stay, please..I know I'll remember the time we spent together here when you return, but I...I don't want to let you go.."
Simeon is in an odd state between panicked and calm. One on hand, he trusts you. If you say you promise you'll see him again- whatever that means- he believes you. But on the other hand, he's already lost so much in life and he can't possibly bear to lose you too, so he grabs you and holds on tightly; "Go? What do you mean 'go'? I...Mc...I don't want to let you go..I don't want you to leave- please stay...with us. With me."
Luke's confusion dances across his face as he latches onto your waist, firing a thousand questions at once, as fast as he can speak them; "What do you mean you're leaving? How can you see me when you 'return'- what does that even mean?! I'm the only me...and I'm right here- where...where are you going?! Don't leave me! I don't want you to go!"
bonus :
Solomon is there to wrap his arms around your waist tightly for comfort, keeping the others from coming too close; he can't let them take you away from him- won't let them convince you to stay. Your place is in your own timeline, with the present versions of them, with him. He promised he'd bring you back home with him and no one is going to stop him; "Come on, Mc...let's go. We need to go- this is what we've been working towards remember? You'll see them in less than a second once we go through the portal. I'm here with you, I'm not ever going to leave your side. You trust me don't you? Let's go home. Together."
2K notes · View notes