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#not all of it! and looking at photos i still feel strong positive emotions towards my past
dreamlogic · 1 year
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#shit chat#family cw#parents divorcing: dad moved into tiny apt & doesn't want anything. mom moving to kentucky in a few weeks? months? w/ new fiancee#brother sick of the drama; doesn't want anything & isn't talking to my mom rn (understandable)#so i'm. pawing through 30 years of my parents' junk trying to sift out & salvage childhood relics#the leftovers mostly bc my mom has already laid claim to most of the things i have a strong attachment to#and currently having an existential crisis on my bedroom floor sorting through xmas decorations to keep/donate#like damn my childhood has so much substance in my memory & these objects seemed imbued with so much magic#and looking at it now there's a few things that still have a glimmer of life but mostly it's just cheap old shit.#i don't want any of this; i just want the sense of comfort and love and security of a functional loving family#but the divorce is also dredging up a lot of shit that i'm further processing in therapy#and i'm coming to the very depressing realization that a lot of my childhood kinda sucked ass#not all of it! and looking at photos i still feel strong positive emotions towards my past#but there really isn't any legacy to speak of. heirlooms consist of a few sentimental tchotchkes & a box of old picture books#also my mom kinda fucking sucked as a parent in ways i'm only just now allowing myself to admit & examine#like i don't think i could ever hate her or write her off completely and i did get certain wonderful aspects of myself from her#but she hasn't consistently been a Good Mom to me. p much since my brother was born when i was like 5.#more like a very mentally ill fair-weather friend who was also partially responsible for raising me#god this sucks. but at least i have a box of delicate sparkly glass baubles that i can smash on the pavement for catharsis sometime#anyways. friends if it seems like i've been more hermit-y and avoidant than usual lately– this is why#i've been estranged from most of my extended family for years & used to be really close with my immediate family.#which is currently a reeking dumpster fire that's choking my life with noxious smoke#and p much all of my energy & free time is going towards not letting actively retruamatizing current events nuke my brain#brother & i agreed that the current Vibes are like...#trying to cut loose the life boats from a sinking ship and get clear before the water displacement sucks us under#but i finally have all my shit out of the house except furniture that can't be moved until my mom moves#so the gaping chest wound is slowly starting to scab over and i can start actually clearing out some of this shit &#tracing the panicked exodus back to a more grounded stable version of myself#ugh.
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mrchiipchrome · 6 months
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Blessing In Disguise
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W.C. - 1.8 k
This was originally a song request, if you want to request then there's a prompt list linked in my masterlist.
prompt 30. -Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.
---------------
Signing for a new club is supposed to be fun, exciting and sometimes even scary. For you, all those emotions were robbed from you by a girl who’d decided to break your heart. 
The relationship hadn’t been going on for long, only a couple of months, but in that short period of time you had managed to fall for the girl completely. The girl who’d only gotten with you for shits and giggles.
So there you stood, taking pictures in the red Arsenal kit, all while trying not to cry. ‘Stupid, stupid people. Stupid, stupid me.’ You think, biting your cheek lightly as the photographer calls for you to do another pose.
‘Olaf and puppies, just keep thinking about Olaf and puppies.’ You have to keep from snorting at your own thoughts, the children’s character always turning your frown upside down.
“YES! That’s it, there’s that smile!” The shouted words startle you slightly, but what startles you even more is the Irish accent that accompanies them. You hadn’t even noticed anyone else sneaking into the room.
“Katie! How’d you get in?” The American accent of the photographer contrasts the harsh Dublin of one Katie McCabe.
“Through the door” She pauses in the middle of her sentence to roll her eyes overenthusiastically. “I wanted to meet the newbie before anyone else” She nearly shouts, sticking her hand out for you to shake.
As soon as you grasp it, she pulls your much taller frame into her own. Her strong arms wrap around your waist, your left arm wrapping around her shoulders reluctantly.
She pulls away from the embrace nearly as quickly as she started it, leaving you to strangely enough, miss her touch.
“You are much taller than you look in the pictures!” The signature smile she flashes you has your knees weakening slightly, butterflies fluttering their wings inside you in a completely different way than it had for that girl. 
This time it was more than just attraction, you could sense that she was a genuine person.
“What d’ya mean?” Katie feels her heart flutter at the furrow in your brow, heart eyes forming despite having met officially only moments before.
“I’ve seen pictures of ya, you look short” You send the multi positional player a playful glare, the woman herself having to tilt her head up to look you in the eye.
“Sure I do Mickey, sure I do.” Now it’s her turn to look confused, the nickname something entirely new to her.
“Mickey? Where’d you get that from?” Her accent continues to play with your heart, if a heart monitor had been connected to you then it would show a clear spike in heart rate. 
“I guess you’ll just have to figure it out because I won’t tell you Mickey.” Out of your peripherals you can see the photographer giving up.
“Girls, if you could both face me for a second so that we can get a decent photo” Mr. Photographer calls out sassily, tapping his foot against the floor in wait. When Katie looks you in the eye, you both have to keep from laughter.
Turning towards the man, Katie slips her arm back around your waist while you place your arm around her shoulders. Your other hand makes the motion of pointing at her, the Irish woman smiling brightly.
After a few clicks of the camera, Mr. Photographer lets you start to pack up, ready to go back to your hotel.
“You want a ride home?” With your back to her, you don’t notice Katie’s intense gaze settled on your back. Her eyes scan the entirety of your backside, getting stuck on your ass for a few seconds too long.
“See anything you like Mickey?” The teasing tone tells her that you’re joking, still she can’t help but let the blush take over her face. 
“Sooo, do you need a ride home?” She questions once again, looking on as you ponder for a second.
“Yeah sure, if it’s not too much trouble.” Humming, the Irish woman lets you lead the way out of the room before walking shoulder to shoulder with you.
The drive back to your temporary home was uneventful, the two of you talking about the club and your expectations. The way she waves at you when you step out of the car makes you all giddy.
Surprisingly, the only thing you can think about when you settle into your bed later that night is the Ireland captain. It’s like she turned your world upside down with one simple look into your eyes. 
Your phone buzzes beside you on the bedside table, Mr. Photographer having sent a text with all the photos from the day for you to post.
Thankfully, the announcement of your arrival to the club had been made earlier, so you didn’t have to worry about that.
Still, you pick your phone up and scroll through the photographs he sent you, finding the best one of you and Katie together.
You can’t help but giggle as you type out the caption to the instagram story, the picture of Katie barely reaching your shoulder is hilarious in its simplicity.
‘Taller than I look, right Mickey?’ You typed before tagging her and posting it. Oh how you already love the team dynamics.
——-
“You dick!” The soft smile on your face turned into a full fledged smirk, Katie’s loud voice booming all throughout the hallway.
Before you can comprehend what’s happening, Katie jumps on your back, her momentum bringing you both down to the floor.
You can’t help but groan at the impact, your ribs feeling slightly bruised. On top of that, you still have Katie sitting on your back, laughing like a madman.
Turning around with her still on top of you, you’re able to relish in the way Katie’s eyes widen slightly before going back to normal. 
Soon enough, Katie herself starts to smirk at the suggestive position you’ve found yourselves in. Her hands creep up to settle on your stomach, muscles contracting under her. 
The clearing of someone’s throat interrupts you two, you trying to scramble up from the ground with a weight pinning you to the floor.
When you realize that Katie isn’t getting off of you, you decide to take drastic measures. 
Placing your hands on her waist, you lift her off your body without much struggle. After that you pull yourself up from the floor, offering the Irish woman a hand to pull herself up with.
“I thought you needed to hit the weights.” Katie’s hand comes up to squeeze your bicep, you flexing it for her.
“I do Mickey, maybe we can go together sometime?” Now your hand is up at your neck, rubbing it nervously.
“RIGHT move it along people, we’ve got training in 5 minutes. You two can flirt later.” Lotte calls out playfully, one of her hands on either of your backs pushing you forward.
Your face is overtaken by a dark blush, Lotte exposing you. 
“Yeah, yeah Lots, you’re just mad that your boyfriend’s away” Katie responds rather snarkily, shooting you an over the top wink.
———-
Week by week passes at the club. The happiness that you once missed out on was now present every second of every day. 
There was one thing that laid at the back of your mind though, nagging and eating away at your conscience. 
You’re in love with Katie, your absolute best friend. 
She’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a girl. She’s funny and kind, she’s great with your parents and your siblings. Not to mention that she’s incredibly attractive.
It’s impossible not to fall for her.
Funnily enough, it was just as hard for her not to fall for you. You two were supposed to be friends, not lovers, and yet that’s exactly what you were becoming.
Less than friendly kisses shared behind closed doors, cuddling on the bus and at home, texting whenever you’re apart. She would even steal your clothes, taking your trousers after spending the night together and leaving her own. Yeah, going into training that day wasn’t fun.
It wasn’t official or anything, you were both just enjoying each other’s company.
Well that is until your ex decides to contact you again, despite being blocked.
——
“Micks, could you bring me a glass of water?” Katie moves around your kitchen with ease, already splitting her time between her own flat and yours.
You hear her hum and then the splashing of the water meeting your sink. The movie you’re watching is paused, the two of you cuddling whilst watching it.
Just as you can hear Katie’s sock clad feet moving back towards the living room, your phone buzzes on the table. Picking it up absentmindedly, an unknown number flashes across your screen. 
Pressing accept on the call, you can soon hear the obnoxious voice of your ex-girlfriend screaming. 
Pulling the phone away from your ear, Katie looks at you curiously. 
“Y/n I wanna get back together!” The slightly intoxicated girl screams at you.
“No. Emilia, I told you never to contact me again so don’t.” Speaking firmly into the phone, you can see Katie’s eyes harden in recognition. She did know of your ex after all.
“I was wrong. Take me back.” She drags out every syllable, slurring her words simultaneously.
“I’d rather let a tractor drive over my foot.” 
“But I’m perfect for you” Katie’s hand comes down to take the phone from your grasp, prying it out of your fingers.
“Are ya now?” Her usual playfulness is gone, voice stone cold.
“Who are you?” Emilia’s shrill voice cuts into both of your eardrums, Katie looking at you in confusion. 
How could you date that? She whispers to you, laughing a little when you shrug. 
“Her girlfriend, you intolerable shit. If you contact her again I won’t hesitate to knock your teeth out.” Her low, threatening tone did something to you. She raised a single eyebrow at your Arsenal red face, making you blush that much harder.
Just as Katie’s about to hang up, you take it from her hand. 
“Emilia, you breaking up with me was truly a blessing in disguise, it brought me the love of my life. Have a great life.” After that, you hang up and throw the phone to the edge of the couch. 
Settling on top of the Irish captain again, she starts to run her hand through your hair. The action makes you melt into her body, a content smile forming on your face.
“So I’m the love of your life?” The sharp Irish accent cuts through the air, teasing zing to her words.
“So I’m your girlfriend?” You counter back, feeling her hand still from their movements. “Ask me.”
“What?” You pinch her sides lightly, the hand she was using to play with your hair slapping the back of your head.
“Ask me to be your girlfriend Mick.” 
“Will you be my girlfriend?” Despite her trying not to sound nervous, you can hear the slightest tremble in her voice.
“Of course Mickey.” Moving up, you lean in to kiss her softly, lips moving against the other’s.
“So will you finally tell me where you got Mickey from?” 
“Nope”
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drewsbuzzcut · 11 months
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How It Started
mat barzal x model!fem!reader
a visceral in doses fic
warnings: angst, cussing, argument, mentions pregnancy and i think that’s all
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“Is it positive?” The question dares to bring a wince to your face. It’s not that you don’t want another baby, but the timing isn’t exactly good. When is it ever?
You muster up all your courage to look at the pregnancy test sitting on your bathroom counter, and to look Mat in the eyes. You know he can read you like a book, so he must know how you’re feeling right now. You know he sees the way your hands fiddle with each other, the way your lip is stuck between your teeth, and how you can meet his eyes. You know he knows.
Taking a deep breath, you finally grab the daunting test and flip it around. You’re quick to exhale the breath you weren’t aware that you were holding, almost feeling guilty that you’re relieved.
“It’s negative,” you tell Mat, watching him like a hawk to see what emotions will flash across his face. He doesn’t look upset, just concerned which in return makes you concerned.
“If you aren’t pregnant, what’s up with the vomiting here and there and the mood-swings?”
“Well, I’m stressed with work, but it’s nothing I can’t handle,” you explain your reasoning as to why you might’ve been feeling sick and moody.
You throw the test away, walking towards Mat and reaching out for him. As soon as he’s up, his arms are around you. His strong arms hold you firmly, warming you to the touch. It’s one of your favorite places to be. You turn to face him, throwing your arms around his neck and pecking his lips repeatedly to bring out his cheeky smile. His hands rest on the small of your back, massaging out the tension in your muscles.
“Oh! I forgot to tell you: I got asked to do a photo shoot on some beach! I think I’ll be flying out at the end of this week,” you inform Mat, extremely excited about this shoot.
You watch the way his smile falls. Your own starts to falter. His eyes turn cold and his hold on you goes slack.
“What?” You question, not being able to take any negative reaction from him.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” He asks cautiously.
Your eyebrows furrow, eyes looking anywhere but at him, trying to figure out why he isn’t excited for you like he usually is.
“Why wouldn’t it be? I’m excited for this shoot,” you mutter.
“We literally just thought you were pregnant. You have been throwing up and moody, and you said it is because of stress,” he points out.
Your face turns into a deep frown, eyes glaring at Mat.
“What does that have to do with this?” You can feel your annoyance taking over, but you try to keep your voice calm.
“You’re stressed, so why put more stress on yourself?” Mat exclaims.
“I can handle my stress, thank you. Why don’t you just say what you really want to say?” You snap a bit.
“All I’m saying is that maybe you need to take a break,” he suggests.
“Take a break? I would never ask for you to take a break, and your job is more demanding than mine!” You’re having a real hard time not getting angry.
“That’s not fair!”
You could just scream at him right now.
“No? You know the last time we had a conversation like this was because someone put it in your head, so c’mon tell me who is laying it on thick? Tell me who hates me so fucking much that they want to cause a riff between us?” You accuse even though you know you shouldn’t.
“You know I love you, but right now I fucking hate this conversation,” he says, voice full of venom it’s so shocking to you.
“No, it's not a conversation. It’s a disagreement that’s about to turn into a big ass fight!” You almost blurt out, face turning red and eyes starting to tear up.
“Well maybe if you weren’t so hellbent on being stubborn, we wouldn’t be fighting.”
The way he says it transports you back to one of the first fights you had as a couple. It’s like you’re a child he’s berating, and because of your 5 year age gap, you think he probably still sees you as that naïve girl.
“I’m sorry that I want to continue to do my job. What’s so wrong about my job, huh? You’ve never had a problem with it before, why now?” You ask dejectedly.
“You’re gone all the time! We have two kids who are still babies! They need you here!” He says as if you were clueless about how a child needs both their parents.
“Oh and they don’t need you here? The last time I checked, you’re gone a lot longer than I am, and that’s that I take them with me when you’re not available!” By now your veins are popping out and your face is even more red.
“I told you we should think of a nanny,” Mat says quietly, almost as if he knew he shouldn’t say it.
“MAT! you’re unbelievable. I’m capable of taking care of my own damn kids. I’ve been doing pretty well for the last few years, so I don’t need a nanny,” you scream at him, all composure being thrown out the window. You watch the way he flinches, not expecting you to yell.
You both sit in the thick tension, letting it strangle you until there’s nothing left to do. Your eyes are glued on Mat, silently pleading him to take back his nanny comment and reassure you.
Nothing comes out of his mouth. His eyes won’t even look your way. The longer the silence settles, the more it starts to become clear that he believes your family will be better off with a nanny. He doesn’t think you can do it.
“Since you can’t seem to get it through your head that I don’t need to take a break, maybe we’re the ones that should be taking breaks, from each other. Maybe then you’ll see just how much you miss out. Maybe then you’ll realize that I can take care of my OWN kids,” you say, fighting through your tears.
He’s dumbfounded, staying quiet, but he eventually agrees because he’s already pushing you away and he doesn’t want to lose you completely. If he gives you what you want, then maybe you’ll be forgiving when the dust settles.
“Fine.” It’s stoic, but at least he said something.
“During this time we should figure out if we want to carry on with our marriage,” you mutter before turning to walk away, not getting a glance at his crestfallen expression.
As the night goes on, you and Mat move around each other, like asteroids constantly avoiding collision. The only time you say a word to him is to let him know that you’re taking the boys to your Hamptons house, and that you’d be staying there for a while. You initially think that he will try to stop you from leaving, but he just nods in understanding. It hurts.
Once everything is packed in your vehicle, Mat is gracious to help buckle Nolan and Angel in, making sure to give them extra kisses.
“So this is a breakup right?” Mat asks when you take the driver’s seat.
Please say no. Mat thinks to himself, knowing a break and breakup are two different things.
Oh, you think, not expecting him to want to break up.
What will this mean for your kids, your marriage? Will you have to eventually file for divorce?
“Yes, this is a breakup,” you whisper, gaze down and voice broken. You look up into the rear view mirror, checking on the boys and ultimately feeling guilty for how their lives are going to change.
You see Mat nod his head once again. Anger flows through you, replacing the blood in your veins. You’re upset that everything is getting ruined, so you look at Mat and say the one thing you thought you’d never say in a million years, “I hate you.” It’s tearful and false, but you know it’ll hit him where it hurts. You know it’s extremely childish. You start the car, not daring to spare a glance at him again, knowing you’d fall apart if you saw the sadness on his face.
It kills you to leave behind one of the biggest pieces of your heart. You can only hope that you’re doing what’s best for everyone.
a/n: So… yeah let the angst begin. This takes place before the two ig edits I recently posted. I hope you all enjoy.
Taglist: @literatureluster
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thecherrytarot · 1 year
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𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 #𝟐.
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pile 1 → pile 2 → pile 3
Pick the photo that you feel the most drawn to. The questions that i picked for this reading were taken from this post. As always, this is a general reading so take what resonates.
𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏:
What residual guilt are you holding?
You may feel guilty every time you make mistakes. The roots go back to your childhood for example, parents or teachers comparing your marks with others or your 'friends' comparing your less scores with theirs on purpose so that they would feel better about themselves, whatever the case was it stills affects your current self. Whenever you start something, you set expectations for yourself that you will become perfect at this instantly or before anyone else. Due to this, you might be emotionally invested in whatever you do and whenever you make a mistake or see someone else doing something easily, you start to question your abilities and think that they aren't good enough and feel like your younger self again. You are stuck in a negative mindset and have many toxic emotions like bitterness, resentment and hatred could be towards others or yourself, some of you may even use these emotions as motivation. You may often feel emotionally drained and find it hard to concentrate and focus on things.
message: "learning is all about trial and error and you will make mistakes but the more mistakes you make the better you will get. You might feel like you look stupid but don't give up. If you keep doing the work, you will achieve your goal. Then the achievement will mean a lot more to you. Be patient with the learning process. Try not to lie, to others and especially to yourself. The help you need will come to you at the right time, even though it seems impossible to you. So lighten up and stop being so negative or having 'toxic positivity' and remember that is okay to ask or receive help."
How can you be more nurturing to yourself?
Get out of your head and then you will realize that you are not alone. Allow yourself to be vulnerable because it is okay to feel your emotions. Let go of your habit of doing everything by yourself especially when help is offered to you. You may ask the universe or a higher power for help (even searching for some type of guidance online) for someone to help you get out of the mess but when the help does come to you, you decline it. You may feel like no one understands you or gets you or you are afraid that people might not care about you. But the universe wants to tell you that it is not true and you can feel connected to someone only if you allow yourself. Try not to shut down these offers out of fear of vulnerability. When someone offers to help you try being grateful and be vocal about it instead of your usual "no I can do it by myself". Nothing wrong with being independent but also there is no harm in asking for help. I got this strong message of 'you are at the right place, at the right time' so for some of you, the event and the people around you are due to a divine arrangement so maybe this could be your chance to heal a part of your inner child because there is a soul connection to those around you.
message: "Have the courage to even face the uncertainties of your life. Know that you will move forward as you did with your past challenges. Victory doesn't only come from achieving your goals, it also comes from winning over your fears. Do not be afraid of failing. When you were a baby learning how to walk, you fell so many times and even got hurt but did you give up on walking? No, but instead you got back up and look at you now. Take the risk to improve your life, even if there is no guarantee."
𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐:
If you felt drawn to Pile 3, make sure to check it out as well!!
What residual guilt are you holding?
You might feel guilty for not taking control of your life decisions. You feel like you don't have enough 'knowledge' to make decisions, so always give others the authority to make the decisions for you. Maybe when you were young, you were made fun of or looked down on for making "silly" choices or selecting the wrong option. Now you could be like 'oh I just need outside advice about this xyz situation' and end up doing exactly what they said even though you do not like it because you feel like if you followed your own advice you would fail 100%) You may also feel guilty for procrastinating or ignoring the things that need to be done, its there in the back of your mind but some of you could try to shut it by saying "well what can I do about it? Now is not the right time for it!" and continue sitting in your couch potato position. Also for some of you, whenever someone brings up this topic you try to ignore it or get irritated by it, not in a childish way but in more of a "rebellious" teenager way. You may feel like no one loves you or cares about you and people are secretly hating on you and are jealous of you but for the majority of you, it is most likely in your head (imaginary haters). You have longed so much for something better and since you are not getting it (sometimes you may even feel like there is no chance of this future for you), you have unknowingly developed a pessimistic attitude even though you say that you are being "realistic" about life. There is a strong message about having two choices( you got like 5 cards about it). The universe is telling you that every day you have two choices; to feel the passion within you or to numb it. If you can find enjoyment in your life now, even more, will come. It is either to do or to not. If you don't do it, you can enjoy your comfort now while occasionally feeling guilty about it and later on feel overwhelmed because you do not have enough time for it or you could do it and give yourself time to process it.
message: "Stop thinking that you will grow only when your surroundings will change. You grow when you change. Stop thinking that you will only grow when you are forced to do it, that isn't the case here. This time it IS in your hands, it's up to you and if you fail, trust yourself to get back up. Every day you have a choice, you get to decide which inner voice to listen to. It feels like your inner child is trapped by this version of you. It asks you every day to change but you might listen to it."
How can you be more nurturing to yourself?
You are free, stop living in your head so much it is almost as if you made a prison for yourself. Let go of your fear of looking stupid. Everyone makes mistakes (even the person that you constantly go to for advice and consider authority) its normal to make them, we are all humans. Do not let this fear stop you from even starting something that you want. Let go of your 'pride' which is limiting you from growing. You also embody the strengths you admire in the people you look up to. Don't try to "compare" yourself to the talents, and achievements of others. Identify what life lesson you seem to be repeating, it is one of the big lessons you're here to work on. Instead of getting frustrated and wanting this to be over as soon as possible, learn what this repetition is teaching you. When you decide to change from your old patterns for something good and make efforts to improve yourself every day, it is something to feel proud of. Even if you do not see it, you are getting better and wiser every day.
message: "the answers you seek, can always be found within you. always remember that your inner wisdom will always guide you. try to have a positive mind because how you think affects your reality. if you feel like your inner self is telling you something like "oh we are not good enough for this anyway, and we have to accept it because that's how life works" then you are not hearing from your best self. you can do it, everything is at the table for you, and it is up to do something with it. The cycle of the same misfortunes is repeating because the reason could be rooted in something that you need to resolve from the inside. Your instincts will guide you toward the right action every time, but only if you are in tune with yourself."
𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑:
If you felt drawn to Pile 2 , check it out as well !!
What residual guilt are you holding?
(i kept thinking about the song I know it's over by The Smiths while writing this song so give it a listen if you haven't already)
You might feel guilty whenever you get emotional. You might feel afraid to open up emotionally because you feel like it will backfire on you in the future and you will get hurt. Maybe when you were young you were shamed or made fun of for crying or being excited about things (i saw a little child collecting stones/ shells from the beach and then getting scolded by the parent, so take however that resonates) You may feel uncomfortable around emotions of others and unknowingly be cold towards because when you felt emotionally vulnerable you were told to not be so sensitive and you don't know what to do. Many of you could be men/ raised were raised as the "man of the house" from a young age regardless of your gender and you were told to toughen up because there was a time to have emotions and be "weak", especially from a mother figure (even in the song I recommended he is talking to his mother). Also, some of you think that if show your emotions it will lead to some sort of financial failure, which relates to the previous line where I said that some of you had to be the man of the house and had some sort of financial responsibility since a young age. Now you find yourself in an unbalanced situation, where you think that following your brain and shutting down your emotions is the right thing to do because that is what you were taught as a child but a part of you says 'this isn't how it is supposed to be, I am a human too, I am supposed to live life and feel too like all the others do.' For this, you will have to stop the thoughts that somehow convince you or put the fear in your mind that something bad WILL happen. When you are anxious about something that hasn't even happened yet, then you are harming yourself with your thinking. Tell yourself that your negative thoughts are just thoughts and not your reality.
message: "you have completed so many challenges, that chapter is done and dusted, it is over now. Now it is time for you to evolve. It is time for you to create the world that you always wanted, the one where your younger self would feel safe and not get judged for being childish, the one where your teenage self can shamelessly dance and laugh and the one where your current self can look at both of these versions and smile and help them make that sand castle at the beach (i keep seeing a beach. it could be a metaphorical situation or literal idk, but it is a message for someone.) Get out of the repeating cycle now that you have the knowledge and guidance to do so."
How can you be more nurturing to yourself?
(yeah there is something important about water bc all three cards you got have water-related images, so you could have a lot of water in your chart especially cancer or feel connected to water.)
Take a look around your environment. It has the power to unconsciously affect your mood and self-esteem. Cut out what no longer or never served you. You do not need it. The more you clean out your personal surroundings, you will feel less heavy and stressed on the inside. Your body and mind have been under immense stress, you have every right to live for yourself and be happy. Love yourself and be open to love. Renew your love for yourself and try to feel with your heart and not your ego. Slow down and enjoy the little things in life and learn to appreciate them. Learn how to balance being in the real world and what your inner self wants. You may feel like there is no time for 'self-care', but sometimes it is important to shut down your mind and listen to your body (you could even feel tremors in your body that happen due to a lot of stress) Protect your health and well-being first.
message: "Every day there is a new opportunity to feel grateful for existing, to make good choices, and to celebrate living. Go out in the sun, ride or learn how to ride a bicycle/horse and feel the warmth of a sunny morning. Stop being a night owl, it is affecting your body and you know it as well. Don't let pride stop you from making mistakes and asking for help. You are not a disappointment if you fail or take help from someone else. Everything always works out, it always has and will continue to do so."
Thank you so much for reading!!!
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At long last: a profile. Ish. An interview, anyway.
Here are some of my favourite parts:
In the past, Swift jokes, she toured “like a frat guy.” This time, she began training six months ahead of the first show. “Every day I would run on the treadmill, singing the entire set list out loud,” she said. “Fast for fast songs, and a jog or a fast walk for slow songs.” Her gym, Dogpound, created a program for her, incorporating strength, conditioning, and weights. “Then I had three months of dance training, because I wanted to get it in my bones,” she says. “I wanted to be so over-rehearsed that I could be silly with the fans, and not lose my train of thought.” She worked with choreographer Mandy Moore—recommended by her friend Emma Stone, who worked with Moore on La La Land—since, as Swift says, “Learning choreography is not my strong suit.” With the exception of Grammy night—which was “hilarious,” she says—she also stopped drinking. “Doing that show with a hangover,” she says ominously. “I don’t want to know that world.”
This photo with Benji is 😍:
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Getting to this place of harmony with her past took work; there’s a dramatic irony, she explains, to the success of the tour. “It’s not lost on me that the two great catalysts for this happening were two horrendous things that happened to me,” Swift says, and this is where the story takes a turn. “The first was getting canceled within an inch of my life and sanity,” she says plainly. “The second was having my life’s work taken away from me by someone who hates me.”
More (awesome) anti-patriarchy stuff:
To Swift, the success of all three [female-led juggernauts this summer: Eras and Renaissance tours and Barbie] feels like an inflection point. “If we have to speak stereotypically about the feminine and the masculine,” she says, “women have been fed the message that what we naturally gravitate toward—” She has a few examples: “Girlhood, feelings, love, breakups, analyzing those feelings, talking about them nonstop, glitter, sequins! We’ve been taught that those things are more frivolous than the things that stereotypically gendered men gravitate toward, right?” Right, I say. “And what has existed since the dawn of time? A patriarchal society. What fuels a patriarchal society? Money, flow of revenue, the economy. So actually, if we’re going to look at this in the most cynical way possible, feminine ideas becoming lucrative means that more female art will get made. It’s extremely heartening.”
But then I think, Who am I to challenge it, if that’s how she felt? The point is: she felt canceled. She felt as if her career had been taken from her. Something in her had been lost, and she was grieving it. Maybe this is the real Taylor Swift effect: That she gives people, many of them women, particularly girls, who have been conditioned to accept dismissal, gaslighting, and mistreatment from a society that treats their emotions as inconsequential, permission to believe that their interior lives matter. That for your heart to break, whether it’s from being kicked off a tour or by the memory of a scarf still sitting in a drawer somewhere or because somebody else controls your life’s work, is a valid wound, and no, you’re not crazy for being upset about it, or for wanting your story to be told.
There is a LOT of good stuff there. Including some RepTV tidbits. Blondie continues to artfully craft the narrative.
Congrats to our beloved nearly 34-year old!
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sebestie · 2 years
Text
“I’m happier than ever”
In the past years, we had been heading to a deadline of unfortunate events that might’ve made you make up your mind. I already knew you were strong for those times you faced harmful critics, abusive authoritarianism, toxic environments, insufficient team work, etc. but the inner strength that takes to quit such a thing like you just did, is bold.
You leave behind the hopes a team gave you and quickly took back. You are the type of guy to race to win, everything you touch turns into gold, you don’t fit limits, you can go wheel to wheel, you’re smart and you have knowledge to corporate a team. You were what the other teams had disadvantage: they could have a faster car, but none of those cars were driven by number 5.
I’m sorry that, after all that you built with talent and passion, the closing of your career is coming as an unpleasant ending where you leave in a position we all wish it was better.
You’ve said it yourself that, after being spoiled with victories, championships and other kind of privileges, there was not place for excitement in the midfield. And you were right. Such as for you as for the fans. Seeing you in such a situation of undeveloped cars, being sure you were capable of so much more, used to hurt a lot. Then why does it hurt even more to let you go?
Sebastian, I didn’t want to let you go. In fact, I wanted to see you win again. To be a fifth times world champion. You were the first to dream of it now you got tons of people dreaming of it too. You’re magmatic. You’re the reason I and many other have watched all those races, and when you wouldn’t make it to the end, I promise you I was no longer there to watch.
Woeful. I’m back at it. It’s hurts. I fear it will hurt every day more until your last checkered flag.
But it might, it just might get better when my ego realises this is no end. No end for Sebastian Vettel. He will still be the guy who built up all the legacy that will never leave my memory. There will be comfort whenever I remember his deeds.
The fact that you held on in the previous seasons while they failed to you, they were trying to break you, makes you a warrior. The last years in special, everything going against you, the biased media pressing towards, the business going downhill, the contrary luck.. But you leave that all behind now.
If I may get personal, all inside me got so emotional with your intimate published video. You are a father and a husband, you like fresh bread and chocolate, your favourite colour is blue, you believe people are good, spending time in nature is recharging to you, you smile with your eyes, you’re from a town called Heppenheim, you have a strong personality and you can name 71 f1 world champions, one of them being yourself.
I once met you Sebastian, we met in a sunny day, you were biking my way and stopped for autographs and photos. I look at your picture together everyday. I’m proud of it, I show people, I feel so lucky. You are nice, polite, kind. You’re the type of guy to build standards, someone so unique. You smiled when I told you I left when you got knocked out in qualifying, because as your supporter, I couldn’t stand that disgrace.
There’s something we all have been too selfish to had wished before but now it’s time: I wish you a good retirement. This time with no distance between you and your loved ones. May you have the time of your life, feel a pure state of joy you couldn’t feel working around a system like motorsport’s.
I’m grateful for you Sebastian, and although you will listen that a lot, still there’s people who owe you beyond this lifetime.
You’re a free now, Sebastian. And you worked your ass off to one day deserve to drop off. Enjoy your beautiful life!
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aggold15hi01 · 29 days
Text
Logan & Kaia: Heatwaves, headache and a peaceful evening-Part 1
Author's note: Dedicated this to any of the Logan Sargeant fans out there on Tumblr.
Plus if you decided to take a 'break'; then I understand--I'd think sometimes we all do needed a well-deserved break for good sometimes additionally I do wish you the very best of luck in general with your life and I wish you well. Sending you prayers in your very own way.
Also a change in the story is Logan is a ex professional surf whom he turns into a surf instructor at Jaime O' Brien's School of surf at the Twin Fins Hotel while Kaia is a nail salon owner of her very own nail salon: Kaia's nail salon as it is located at the streets of Waikiki which is just across the Embassy Suites Waikiki Hotel.
⚠️ Trigger Warning: Mentions of both heatstroke and headache.
Plus this version has been parted into different parts and this version will be slightly different from the original version on my personal blog.
For your information: this story has been told and written from Kaia's point of view a.k.a Kaia's P.O.V.
⚠️ Disclaimers: I don't own any of the pictures/ photos/ images and none of them are mine--credits goes to Allisha Gray and Logan Sargeant for the two images plus Pinterest for the third photo reference of the guest bedroom where she is resting at there.
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"Kaia?" He asked while I am now lying in my bed at a spare bedroom where usually I only went there if I am feeling the time to be away from Logan as either it could either be a bickering argument we do usually have or perhaps whenever I told him I do needed the space from him ever since I am still experiencing what does it feels like an abnormal headache from the intense heatwaves we have to truly experience the last couple of days in the island of Oahu, Hawaii.
"Logan?" I called to him while I am curling up into a fetal position as I shivered from how did the AC blows the cold air which makes the room feels more cold as I continue shivered under the thick cream-colored covers of my duvet.
"Kaia, are you okay?" He ask me while he knocks on the door very softly way before he can open the door by a small crack just as when he sees me lying down on the bed; curling up into a fetal position while covering myself with the thick duvet up to my neck.
"Oh hey, Logan." I whispered softly, as my body continues to shiver against the cool air which is gently blowing from the AC I had turned on hours ago in addition to how I have been feeling cold and numb from how does the bedroom feels cold while Logan looks at me with what seems to be a mixture of concern and confusion emotion on his face based on what exactly I have gone through earlier from I did have to truthfully experienced it from today alone.
It all started with earlier on how we both check the weather for Honolulu today in particular; it turns out the weather is truthfully and deeply hot not only in Honolulu but also in Waikiki as well which not only leads to how Logan had send me a text message earlier about how so many different students are either postponing the surf lessons or cancelling their surf lessons due to their health concern as they had confirmed about how another surf company which also does surf lessons had a student whom they had to be sent to the General Queen's Hospital in Honolulu additionally they told there wasn't anything too serious due to a feeling and an experience of a light headed feeling from how powerful and tough the heatwave can be to beat from the sun.
Plus speaking of heatwaves; I have to admit: I did also fell victim to the aggressive heatwave of Hawaii on today in particular especially when we are talking about how I did felt a small and a minor headache from the lunch break when I am walking towards the Nalu Cafe across from my nail salon in order to take my lunch break to be away from my nail salon; however my headache became more worse when I did return to my nail salon as the strong pungent smell from the nail polish is making my headache feeling even more agitated to the point where I had to let my co-manager Carly along with the other nail artists to let them take over my shift for the rest of the day and the evening shift as well in case if there are any walk-in clients who are arriving unexpectedly to the nail salon during the evening hours.
Meanwhile: by the time when I returned to our apartment: I ended up rushing towards a guest en suite bathroom where I usually only ended up sleeping there if we either gotten into an argument between the both of us or whenever I needed to take the proper alone time between the both of us but before you know it, sometimes one of us would come back around to the other person and vice versa plus I do have to admit, generally the relationship between me and Logan--it isn't always all that perfect but  . . . thankfully it isn't all that too violence either despite how I do truly tend to get hot-tempered by how I hated the way that Logan is treated badly and yet he had to truly experience the waves of expectations, pressures; hates; insults and the way people had cyber bullied him and making him becoming a laughing stock of the internet followed by the hear says, rumors and gossips which are made out of nothing but nonsenses; hear says; jealousy; paranoia and delusions out of nothing; not to mention it does really hurts my heart to hear what he had to truly went through in his very own life and it saddens my heart to hear what exactly he is going through in his very own life not only as an ex pro surfer but also as a human being and a person as well in general.
Plus it does saddens my heart to hear what exactly he had gone through in his very own life.
Anyway, when I did returned to the apartment where we both share the apartment together located at the outskirts of Waikiki; I not only vomited into the Japanese style toilet seats we now have it at all three of the en suite bathrooms we do have in our very own apartment in addition to how I ended up collapsing on the bed out of exhaustion and the intense pain I have to truthfully experienced it from the headache right after I did managed to dump my Typo light blue shoulder bag on a spare dining chairs in addition to turning on the AC at the guest bedroom followed by running to the en suite bathroom to unexpectedly puke out of nowhere into the Japanese toilet seat we used to have additionally I ended changing to any spare pair of clean, light weight and comfortable clothes I can wear it for home and carefully take off my pair of glasses before I fallen asleep to the drainage of energy I have to truthfully experience it in my very own life.
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plush-rabbit · 3 years
Text
Uncertainty in the Household
Picture Perfect Series
TW: talk and action for miscarriage, slight manipulation
Word Count: 4.1K
A/N: I wanted to explore the reader and Danny’s relationship in this chapter, so i hope you like it, first part is p rough with the whole miscarriage, so you're free to skip to after the second - if you're uncomfy with that
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Tears fall into your palms as your fingertips dig into your scalp, your belly- while still early in the pregnancy, still feels as if it’s protruding, and you sit on the shared bed, a faint smell of cigarettes and alcohol lingers in the air and you’re alone. For now, at least. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it were Danny who was the father. You want to kid yourself, to tell such lies that he could be the father, that sleeping with- that being forced into whatever sick game Ghostface has with you- that he didn’t impregnate you. You blame yourself. You should have taken the morning after pill, you should have purged yourself of everything and anything to make sure that you didn’t let yourself have his child. Your stomach twists and turns, a thin veil of acid on your tongue and you wonder how to explain this to Danny. If you even should. It’s still early, maybe you could get rid of the child before anyone has to know. Your eyes widen and you sit up, your eyes scanning the room and you let out a breath, nodding to yourself.
You can get rid of the child. No one knows. You made sure to throw away the pregnancy tests in a dumpster at a park and rip the receipts before anyone could ever see. No one has to know.
Loneliness, while always being your aggressor, has finally worked in your favor. You rush to put on your clothes, ignoring the burning desire to cry, your purse in your hand, you walk to the front door, pausing to leave a note to your partner.
“Went out, I’ll bring dinner.” Something short and simple. Marked with a little heart at the end that makes you feel a bit sick, like it’s something like a lie that you’re telling him. You place the pen down and grab the car keys, rushing down the steps. Each step down the stairs is something that feels heavy, chains around our ankle and the child- no, you can’t call it that. You know you’ll get attached. You’ve heard about the tactics that are used to pressure vulnerable people into keeping their unborn children, and you won’t be one of those. You can’t. Not now and you’re sure not ever. The car purrs to life, the steering wheel a bit too hot from being under the sun and you wait, letting the cool air fan against your already hot body and you reverse out of the parking lot.
-
You return with tuna, alcohol, fenugreek, a peppermint and aloe vera plant, a thin bag that is filled with peaches, different varieties of caffeine that you can already taste, and pineapple. Your hands ache, the base of your fingers sore from the heaviness of the bags that you stubbornly carried up to the apartment. You were not going to make multiple trips, that much was certain about your day. You hear his voice before you see him, a greeting cut off as he realizes just how much you’re carrying. Danny’s eyes widen, and he rushes off the couch, taking bags away and your palms are redden from the indents of the bags.
“Are we having a feast?” His hands are inside a bag and he pulls out wrapped fish, and he stops, turning to you, a tight smile on his lips that you don’t recognize. “I didn’t know you liked fish.” He places it down and watches as you carefully place a clinking bag down onto the table. “Alcohol too, huh? What-” he turns to you, a nervous chuckle filling the space of his words- “Did I forget a special date?”
You shake your head no, already biting into an unwashed peach, trying to ignore how many hands and bacteria have touched the fruit before you. “Just-” you speak with a full mouth and turn your head, covering your mouth with your hand and taking another bite. You swallow and take a gulp of air. “I was just craving fish is all. Why? Do you not like fish?”
“No, it’s not that, it’s just that I- I just wanted soup, and-” your smile falls and he shakes his head. “I can get soup tomorrow. How long until the fish is down?”
“Actually-” you reach into another bag and pull out two containers- “I was able to buy some sushi on the way home.” You pull out a pack and slide the container to him. You spare him a glance as he stares at the sushi with an odd, angry feeling. “Oh, I’m uh, I have tomorrow off, by the way.” You meet his eyes for a minute and he gives you a nod, allowing you to continue.
“You’ve been throwing up lately,” he adds, taking a bite from his plate. Your heart sinks and you try to mask your emotions, turning around to grab a bottle opener from one the drawers. “I’ve been worried, you know. Maybe-” the chair squeaks and when you turn, he’s sitting down, an unopened beer beside his plate- “I should take tomorrow off too and we can go to the doctor. Just to see if you don’t have the flu or-” he tilts his head, his lips twitching- “if it isn’t anything else.”
A part of you wants to tell him your fear. You don’t want to be pregnant, and you hope that if you manifest it enough, it’ll be true. But you also fear that he wants a family and you’ll be the one ruining it for him. Maybe you aren’t even pregnant. Maybe it’s just needless worry over a few faulty exams, but you can’t risk it. Not now. Not if it has the chance to be someone other than Danny’s.
With a bottle opener in hand, you walk towards Danny, his eyes on you the entire time. You place the bottle opener beside his drink, a hand on his shoulder and the other brushing back his hair, combing it to the side. His hands leave his meal and rest against your hips, his gaze up at you and there’s a hint of a smile at his lips, and you lean down, pressing your lips over his scar that adorns his forehead.
“We have bills to pay Dan,” you mutter, “at least one of us should be responsible.” You close your eyes tightly to avoid tears spilling over, the hand on his shoulder tightening and when you pull away, he looks unbothered for a moment before giving you a forced smile. “Let’s eat, okay? You can tell me about your day.”
-
All it takes is one doctor appointment to confirm that you are not pregnant. It was just a scare. And as if life and everything else in control of you wanted to laugh, you bled through your underwear on the ride home. The vomiting in the morning was your body simply pretending to have the signs, your mind so strong that it created a falsehood of pregnancy, just because you were so scared and sure of it.
Life is odd for the moment. You tried so hard to get rid of the unwanted child and they were never there to begin with. You had to go through with the nervousness that consumed you. The call to the doctor, the waiting, the glances that Danny gave you as if he knew something. You wonder if he did know. He isn’t dumb, a bit dense when it comes to your feelings, but he’s smart in a way that matters. You hope that he doesn’t know, for both your sake and his. The little scare will be something that you take to your grave, hoping that it’ll remain just that.
The fan is turned on with a simple swipe of your hand against the light switch, the room filling with white noise. You sit on his couch, your body stiff as if it were the first time that you had visited his home. You still remember how it was. Dirty. You hadn’t expected that from him. There was trash all over, a sort of musty smell and an empty fridge. He hadn’t seemed embarrassed, but rather mildly inconvenienced even though he was the one to invite you over. However, now the place is as clean as it can be, the musty smell now replaced by a slight twinge of alcohol and tobacco, but with an overlapping floral scent from one of your candles. You can’t help but wonder if he minds that you added bits and pieces of yourself into his home. He calls it your home too, almost too eager to make sure that you know that you belong here, but even so, it doesn't feel like your home. It’s too empty, too devoid of your touch. You still feel as if you’re a guest, waiting and cleaning, tending to him when he needs it.
The simple fact of the matter is, this isn’t your home. Your stuff, your personal items that you decorated your home are still in boxes shoved under the bed. You miss your home. “I miss my home,” you say to yourself, tears pricking in your eyes. The rent was cheap, and the landlords were kind enough, but it’s gone. The place scooped up by some stranger and the thought has your stomach rising.
You’ve thought about leaving here. Perhaps not Danny, but maybe that would be a consequence of you leaving. It was too rushed. You were too scared of Ghostface invading your life again. You made a rash decision that the both of you now have to pay for. He lost his space, his privacy and you can tell he holds some resentment, the way he slams the doors close, how he locks the rooms and won’t speak to you until he needs something, until he’s pressuring you to kiss him with a half-hearted apology on his tongue.
You glance at the coffee table, old and cracked, the paint on the wood chipped and revealing the unfurnished finish. The photo frame is cold, a slight layer of dust over it, concealing your nervous smile and Danny’s wide one. He isn't happy, but he’s smiling. You both only have a few pictures with each other. It isn’t much, and you’re surprised that the photographer wouldn’t want more, but it can’t be helped.
The photo is placed back on the table, and you lay down on the sofa, grabbing at the throw blanket that you added. Your arms act as a pillow underneath your weary head, and you stare at the photo, training over how his arms are wrapped tight round you and how close that he holds you.
-
Daniel walks into his shared apartment with you, and he immediately spots your shoes in a different position than when he left. He frowns, walking further into the apartment, his eyes scan the room, his eyes landing on a crumpled bag of fast food on the table, the drink creating a water ring on the table. It isn’t like you to be so careless.
The drink rattles in his hand, nothing but cold liquid is inside the container. His bag is heavy as he leans it against the wall on the floor, and he finally finds you. You’re asleep on the couch, your body curled with the decorative throw blanket covering your body as the fan spins above.
He lowers himself to watch you, your soft breaths and the way your face is relaxed. You’re asleep and it brings him back to a time where you were under him, where night concealed him and he was able to hover above you. It’s much different now, you’re still scared but he’s able to kiss you, to have you rake your nails down his back and hold his hand as if it’s the only thing to keep you sane.
A calloused hand cups your cheek, your skin soft and blemished with faded scars that he’s studied meticulously night after night. You wake up with his fingers tracing over your face and he doesn’t make a sound, everything about him is stoic and he wonders how you are seeing this situation in your eyes. Are you scared? Do you know? Are you pregnant? What are you thinking of him at this very moment? You blink slowly at him and he’s reminded of a cat, watching and tired, and there’s a burning desire in him that wonders what you would do if he strangled you right now. Slowly, his hand lowers, his knuckles brushing over your cheekbones and down your jawline, touching against your pulse on your neck and he feels it quicken. Your eyes never leave his and he doesn’t look away. He’s sure that he could convince you that it was a joke or that maybe it was just a dream that you had. It’s been a while since you had such a vivid dream.
Your hand creeps from under the blanket and you hold the back of his hand, moving it back to your face, letting your lips press against the side of his palm in a soft kiss. “Danny,” you say in a sleepy voice as your eyes close. “How was work?” Your hand that holds his becomes limp and he watches as it slides down his hand, catching on the cuff of his sweater until it dangles off the couch.
It wasn’t smart of him to invite you to live with him. He was too reckless, too needy and desperate to have you beside him that he just wasn’t thinking. Even if you are naïve and easily pulled into a false sense of security, he can’t just explain his costume, he can’t explain the knife and all the careful cleaning kits that he has. This is all too risky.
But he can’t throw you out either. He’s become attached. You’re like a pet to him now, and as every disgruntled man says on television, don’t name something or else you’ll get attached. And now he’s fallen victim to it. It’s nice to have such an easy fuck around, to know that he cold do whatever he wanted to you and you’ll stay here with him, because the other option is much scarier. The corners of his lips pull upwards and he pulls his hand away, fixing the blanket above you and he rises from his knees with a sigh.
“Another dead body,” he says with a chipper voice that he can’t seem to hide. “All signs point to our residential serial killer.” It’s much too risky to have Ghostface visit you, you thought this as your safe haven, you have to know and think that it still is, but fuck does he miss your fear and how pitifully you cried. “You never told me why you hated him so much.” He has to bite the inside of his cheeks when your brows knit together. “I know he’s a killer, but did he ever hurt anyone close to you?”
Your eyes shift and you pull the blanket closer to you, the folds stretching across your frame and showing the curves of your body. “I’m not sure, I just-” you catch his eyes and he sees you visibly shrink away from him- “I’m scared of his mask.”
His mouth fills with saliva as he thinks about just how frightened you are. “What a shame, I was hoping to get into roleplay.” He could think about you know, how you'd hit and scream, how he could pretend that it was all part of the act and just hold you down, thinking about how you would put the pieces together and sob.
“That isn’t funny,” you say in a high-pitched voice, already cracking and sitting up to lessen the distance between the two of you. He rolls his eyes in response, standing up from his crouch with a hiss between his teeth. “People are dead,” you whine, as if he hasn’t been keeping up with the news with you. “He killed people.” You’re much more emotional than he thought, but you’ve held your mouth for so long, suffered in your silence and in your vulnerability; it's only natural you would have such strong emotions.
“Relax, it was a joke.” He takes off his jacket and tosses it beside you, watching as you pull yourself closer, further away from his jacket and only staring at it with confusion, as if he dared to have the audacity to throw something your way.
“A dumb one,” you say with with a pout, gripping tighter onto the blanket.
“I said relax,” Danny says in a stern voice, already done with the conversation. He may have been the one to start it but he was hoping for a more playful one, or rather one where you go along with him rather than try to fight him.
“Whatever,” you huff, and he sees you bundle the blanket in your arms, pushing yourself to the further end of the couch, looking at the wall with furrowed brows as your hand tries to discreetly cover your pout.
“Great,” he says sarcastically, turning around and walking towards the fridge. “Now, you’re angry,” he says loud enough for you to hear.
He rises back up with a bottle in his hand, toying with the cap, letting the ridges play against his fingertips. You don’t respond and he can feel his anger start to rise, something thick that lodges in his throat and makes it impossible to swallow. You aren’t answering him. Usually this would be a good sign, something that means he still has you wrapped around his finger, but it feels different. You aren’t moving from your spot, and you aren’t apologizing to him. He puts the bottle down, and runs his hand down his face with a heavy sigh.
“I think,” your voice is small, and he can barely hear it, but he can, “we both rushed into this… relationship. We should have taken it slow.” When you turn to him, he sees that your eyes are wet and you try to take steady breaths but to no avail. “I’m happy with you, but I don’t think we were thinking clearly when we chose to-” your eyes glance around and you look away from him- “to do this.”
His jaw twitches and he watches you, anger boiling inside of him, white-hot that makes it impossible to think and if he could, he'd grab the knife on the counter and stick it in your back but he can’t. Copper fills his mouth and he turns on his heel, the bedroom door slamming behind him, loud enough that he can hear your yelp and loud enough that it makes his ears ring. He wonders what the neighbors would think of it, but he can’t really bring himself to care. He’ll find an excuse, he always does.
His name is muted through the door and he rummages through the closet, pulling out a worn backpack and knocking a few clothes off the anger that he steps on. You enter the room just in time to witness him opening your drawer and throwing your things inside without a care.
“Danny?” Your voice sounds so fearful and it makes him stop for a second, and when he looks at you, your foot slides back out of the room. You’re terrified of him right now. “Danny, what are you doing?” You ask in a small voice, as you take a tentative step inside the room.
“You want to leave right?” He asks in a condescending tone, stepping closer to you with the back held tight in his hand. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll help you pack.”
“I didn’t-”
“Didn’t you say that we rushed into this?” With every word he stalks towards you and he tosses the backpack onto the bed, only to miss and have it slide down, the contents inside spilling onto the floor. You look away from him and that only adds fuel to the fire that is tarnishing him from the inside. “Didn’t you?” He shouts, slapping his hand on the dresses, rattling your bottles of perfume and creams. He stares at you, his nostrils flared and jaw tight as he tries to keep a sense of composure. “Did you or did you not?” He asks, his voice eerily calm as he lets his nails drag along the wall. “What? Cat got your tongue?”
“I’m sorry, Dan,” you cry, your eyes spilling over with tears. “I wasn’t thinking. Please, I promise, it was just a long day and I’m sorry.”
You’re pathetic and not in the way that he wants you. He turns around and you grab his arm, latching yourself around his forearm. His name is on your tongue and before you have a chance to finish it, he turns around, his hand raised, and mouth pulled into an ugly snarl. You let go of him immediately and try to shield yourself, but he aims for the wall instead. His palm stings and you let out a choked sob.
He can’t think. Not with you here. Not with his emotions running so high. Not when his palm stings and there’s something dark brooding inside of him. He takes a deep breath and he forces himself to look at you. You stare up at him with worry creasing your features.
“It's okay,” his words are still tense, but your body lowers its defenses slightly, and he knows he’s on the right track. “I was angry.” He pulls his hand away from the wall and rubs it with his other, the palm of his hand a light shade of pink. “Why don’t we have dinner, huh?” He tries to give you a charming smile, but it falls flat. “We’ll talk about it over dinner. You know-” he reaches for your hand and grabs it in both of his- “like couple’s therapy or some shit. How does that sound?”
You break away from his gaze, glancing at the floor, and he knows your habits and tics by now. You’ll scan the floor, and look up at him and smile and nod. You play your part so well, and if he had to be honest with himself, he can’t lose that. Not yet. Not when you’re so dependent on him and him on you. He waits for our smile, to give you his own to show that he’s okay, that his anger has subsided for now, but you never give him that. Your mouth parts open and there are tears in your eyes, your hand shakes and grows clammy in his. He calls your name, but you don’t respond. Your breath is ragged, sharp inhales and shaky exhales, and he follows your gaze to the floor under the bed.
In the corner of his eye, he spots white and his nails dig into your skin. “Go get me a beer, I’ll-” he looks down at you and your eyes are stuck, glued to the floor where you can see the face that has haunted you- “I’ll clean up, okay? Just give me a moment.” It isn’t enough, you’re still looking where the mask lays, the bottom half of the face peeking from under your undergarments. Your mouth opens in a silent question and when you look back at him, you’re scanning his face. His body runs hot, his mouth going dry and he says the only thing that can come to mind. “I told you I wanted to try roleplay.”
“I thought you were,” you hesitate, and your tongue peeks to wet your lips, “I thought you were kidding,” you say breathlessly, your words slow as if you were hypnotized and the truth of the matter is, is that you are. You’re ruined by the mask that lies on the floor, the mouth of it the only thing that you can see. You peel away from him and have your back turned to him, your arms coming up to give yourself a hug. “I’ll go get you a beer,” you say in a daze, and when you turn back, your smile is weak, and you can’t look at him for long, your eyes magnetized to the mask on the floor.
He’s left alone in the room, his nails digging into the palm of his hands and red in his vision. The worst part of it all is that he can’t go out tonight. Not when you saw his mask. You’re naïve, and easily spooked, but even you could put two and two together. Even your suspicions would start to rise as you questioned why there was a murder the night he went out. Why Ghostface hasn’t come back for you. You’d suspect him and he can’t have that, not when you’re already so fearful of him.
186 notes · View notes
rcksmith · 3 years
Text
Spring breeze — Spencer Reid
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Sumarry: Spencer never thought about falling in love with someone, but he certainly didn't expect that he would fall in love with Gideon's daughter. — season 3 —
Part.2 Part.3 Part.4
A/N: I am marathoning Criminal Minds again and I can not express how much I loved the interaction of Gideon and Spencer!! So this idea came as an epiphany, and I love the conception of love at first sight. Maybe this becomes a serie...
English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.
Requests are open. Love you ❤️
Couple:Spencer Reid/Gideon's daughter!reader.
Warnings: nothing, just very fluff.
— — — — —
Something was different. Maybe it was the way the sun's rays cascaded down in an atypical way, maybe it was the breeze that carried a more lyrical intonation on its back, or maybe it was just the Earth that was adorned by an ethereal veil. Spencer didn't know how to point out what was really different, but he felt in his soul that something in the hemisphere had changed.
At first, when he took the subway to work, Spencer thought it was just an ephemeral sensation, just like those seconds when you feel the breath of the breeze more cold. But it didn't. The sensation accompanied him to work, to the plane, to the case, it stuck to him like a tattoo and Reid found himself looking around for answers that did not exist physically.
He considered all the theories that were possible to explain that destabilization in his subtly balanced world. But he found none.
“Are you feeling anything different today?” That's what he asked Morgan.
Derek shrugged, finishing packing up at the police station so they could go back to Quantico.
“No.” Then he looked Reid whit his obsidian eyes “Is something bothering you? Is the Genie feeling any peturbation in the Force? ”
Spencer chuckled through his nose at the Star Wars joke, but just shook his head in a 'No'. And the conversation died there. How could he explain something that even he didn't understand?
Trying to ignore the way his heart was beating fast, for no reason, in anticipation of something Spencer himself was unaware of, he wondered how long he was going to have that sensation. The feeling of euphoria, the taste of something, there was something exciting in the air, almost angelic.
But how long was that going to accompany him? One day? One week? Whole life? For the first time, Spencer didn't have the answer. And that was disconcerting.
When BAU's glass doors opened for agents to settle on their desks and Hotch and Gideon go to their respective offeces, a wave of icy breeze from the DC air reverberated through the enclosure. Spencer can see that Morgan shrugged in the wind, Emily looke for a coat in the black suitcase, but his own body didn't seem to be hit by the same breeze. For Reid, it had been a caustic, lyrical, almost spring, wave that carried the promise of something extraordinary on back. Almost divine.
In that split second, in a time as short as a blink, the feeling that his life would never be the same made him losing his breath. Spencer does not know what attracted his gaze to the BAU door, nor what made his whole body turn in that direction, like a magnet, like a wanderer in the desert who finds his Oasis. But he had been attracted, and as soon as a female hand pushed through the glass door and her figure came into view, Spencer understood the extraordinary thing that him heart was beating for in anticipation.
You.
It was as if the universe had been preparing him all day for that moment. As if the body itself tried to prepare it. Because if Spencer hadn't fell those feelings of euphoria all day, he would have drowned in his own reactions to seeing you.
In a burst, like a violin string popping, Reid understood what was different about the hemisphere, because why the air was ethereal, because why the night felt like poetry, and why the moon whispered swears of love. In that moment, Spencer understood the mysteries of the world, unraveled the riddles of life, drank from the wisdom of The Oracle of ancient Greece. In an instant, watching you enter, Spencer understood the reason for his life.
In an instant.
The world shuddered in slow motion, capturing all your movements, all your graceful gait, all your glory. An elegant black dress with thin straps modeled your body in an arcane, almost divine way, your legs were supported on black high heels, making your walk seem like a glide of honey.
You were not beautiful. You are gorgeous. You shone. Sparkled.
And, like an atrocious wave that broke over Reid and pulled him into the sea, that whole feeling that stuck with him all day came to accompany the female figure. Following in your footsteps like the tail of a long dress.
Spencer was sure that his life would never be the same.
They hadn't even sat at their tables when you showed up. Like the muse that came out of an action movie. And when you got close enough to attract the attention of Emily and Morgan, whose Derek opened his mouth when he noticed the female figure that was the personification of Female Fatal, Spencer felt himself letting out the breath he didn't even know he was holding. He knew that anyone with eyes and a little common sense would notice how overwhelmingly beautiful you were, so when Morgan turned his body fully towards you, Reid was not surprised.
“Hi." Your voice, to Reid, had a floral intonation “Do you guys know where I can find Jason?”
When his eyes met yours, Spencer felt his breath being stolen from him once again. Usually, girls like you didn't look twice at guys like him, Spencer knew that. Girls like you liked men like Morgan. Athletes, strong, Alpha Male. And because of that, it was an explosion in Reid's system when you took a few seconds longer in that eye contact and a delightful smile appeared on yours lips. As if you appreciate what you were seeing.
That was a shock. Was it true or was he misinterpreting the signs? Was him mind playing tricks on him, like the flickering shadows of furniture under the darkness and the flame of a candle? Spencer would not be able to say a word without stuttering at that moment even that him life depended on it. In fact, he was already starting to feel cheeks heating up. So he thanked any deities that might exist when Morgan and Emily responded to you and broke the eye contact between the two of you.
“Jason Gideon?” Morgan frowned slightly.
“He's in the office but...” But Emily couldn't finish the sentence before Gideon's voice came out over everyone's:
“Y/n?” It was in a tone that no one there had ever heard in Gideon. A sweet, loving intonation... paternal.
None of the three agents present there had time to express their thoughts in facial expressions before you said:
“Dad!”
Then the whole world took a turn and seemed to be terrified, making them feel as if they had been thrown out of the tenth-floor window. This time, Reid's eyes widened at the two friends, who also had puzzled expressions. Everyone knew that Gideon had a past, probably with divorces and children, a life he had left behind, but no one expected...that.
Perhaps Gideon's vision of a family was something that was only in the imagination, never something tangible. Until that moment. Until the most beautiful girl Reid had ever seen was the daughter of one of the men he respected most. Until him heart soared at alarming levels for him boss's daughter. Spencer had been in trouble before when it came to matters of the heart, but the trouble gained a position in the top 3.
“What are you doing here?” A rare smile appeared on Gideon's face, his brow slightly furrowed.
“We were going to dinner today, remember? In that new Japanese restaurant.” Your tone of voice was not resentful or hurt by the situation that was explicit there.
The life of a BAU agent take many things, some with a more atrocious force than others, and one of them was the availability of hours. commitments that count on presence.
“I totally forgot, I'm sorry.” Gideon's voice was always calm and controlled, he managed to speak from the most tender emotions to the most heinous crimes with a peaceful intonation. But to perceive traces of parental love was new. “The case was very complicated, my cell phone died and...”
“It's okay, Dad.” You smiled, making a casual gesture with your hand “I thought this happened, but I thinking it best to come here to see if everything was okay instead of waiting until tomorrow.”
Your smile, despite being the simple one, was the brightest for Spencer.
Gideon still had a fatherly look and a chaste and grateful smile when he turned to the other agents who were still puzzled.
“Y/n, these are agents Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss and Dr. Spencer Reid.” Jason introduced them to you “Guys, this is my daughter, Y/n.”
“Is a pleasure.” You smiled genuinely at them.
“I had no idea that you had a daughter!” Emily gave a low, slightly bewildered laugh that also made you laugh.
“Everybody says that.” You looked at your father again, having fun.
“I'm just going to go over some reports with Hotcher before I leave.” Gideon kept a chaste smile. “Why don't you wait here and then let's go get something to eat?”
“Of course, no problem, Dad.” You agreed, adjusting the thin shoulder bag that was on your shoulder.
As Jason went up to Hotcher's office, you turned to the agents again, with a gentle smile on your face.
“My dad said great things about you.” Emily smiled at your statement.
"I'm still chocked ." She laughed, and Morgan added:
“ I really need to know...” he looked around, in a playful suspense “Is Gideon really that serious outside the FBI?”
You laughed “Oh no! Definitely not.”
So you reached for your phone in the litlle bag, hunting for a photo on it and showing it to the three agents. It was a recent photograph where you and Gideon had their faces painted in easy ink. You had a skeleton mouth made with white and black paint, and Jason had a pink glitter butterfly covering his left cheek. You two were laughing in the photo.
Morgan was the one who let out a loud, dripping laugh, with a few tears accumulating in the corners of his eyes.
“How is this possible?” Morgan was trying to catch the air.
“It was at the last Halloween, he and I bet that whoever lost in the snooker that day would have to paint a butterfly on their face.” You laughed.
“And did he lose?” Spencer found a voice for it, his mind failing to process the image of Gideon losing any game.
“I have my suspicions that he let me win” You joked “But I enjoyed the victory just the same.”
The conversation was light after that, Spencer refrained from much of the dialogue, a little fearful that you could hear him heart beating loudly whenever you smile in his direction. As the minutes passed, Derek and Emily had to go back to their duties and finish their reports, while you were sitting in one of the chairs at an empty table.
It was one of those moments when Reid tried to focus on the files in front of him to exorcise what was going on around him. Paperwork had always brought the lull needed to make Spencer meditate. It was almost like relaxation. But in moments like this, when something in the environment around him pulled his attention so much, he stayed on the same page for long minutes.
That must be why he didn't hear the wheels on your chair approach, and he didn't even notice that you were so close until you said:
“Are you really a doctor?” Your voice was low, soft, as if you didn't want to disturb the other agents who were working.
Spencer turned his head towards you, only to find the modern personification of what would be the Athena de Troia. You were close, not close enough to touch, but close enough that he could smell your perfume. You smelled like the night, the excitement of nights and the brightness of the stars. And if Spencer looked deeper into yours eyes, he would sure they contained shine moonlight.
He swallowed, the mania for blinking compulsively returning a little.
“A-ahm yes. Not really a doctor, but m-my 3 Phd’s make me a doctor.”
He might be mistaken, but the smile that spread across your face was not just friendly, it wasn't curious, it was… delighted. As if the roles were reversed and he was the most fascinating thing in that room, not you.
The glow that was adorned in yours eyes had something lyrical, ethereal, wonderful. As if the brightness of all the galaxies were inhabiting your irises, moving in your orbit. At that moment, Spencer was deeply grateful to have eidetic memory, because 10 years from now he could still remember how you looked like a muse over there. DC night came in through the big glass windows, and if Reid had to describe that moment with the five senses, he would say that the world had turned the light down to a rose tone, the smell was heaven and your smile promised to contain wonders of the world.
Holy Mother of God, you are so, so beautiful!
“My dad said there was a genius on the team.” You said, your attention on him is always tender, adoreble. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
Your perfume invaded him sense of smell once again, and he felt his heart beat faster once more. Spencer would have told you all the secrets in the world if you asked. He would have told all own secrets.
“No way.” He sat back in his chair to look at you better, oblivious to the exchange of looks that Emily and Morgan gave.
You rested your arms on Spencer's table, the chair next to his.
“You never thought of being like... the wizard Doctor Strange?” You hoped that Spencer knew Marvel “Before he was a magician, of course. But why didn't you want to be a surgeon or something?” You laughed “There is a phrase him says: I have a photographic memory and this is what made me ..."
“ ‘Get my diploma and doctorate at the same time’ " Spencer completed you, laughing softly “I know the HQs. Did you know that the Doctor Strange character was created during the Silver Age of American comics to bring a different type of character and mystical themes to Marvel Comics? It him has an intellectual coefficient close to 177 points and I have… ”
The more he rambled, the more a stunning smile spread across your face. As if you were enchanted with him. And you were. Everyone was noticing the way Spencer seemed to have you curled up on his finger, your eyes sparkling and a silly smile twinkling on your face, paying attention to every word he said. It was an overwhelmingly lovely sight to behold.
But just as everything had a time, an hourglass, your time had reached the last grain of sand.
“All right, Y/n.” Gideon went down the stairs, cutting the end of Reid's sentence “Ready?”
You stood up, agreeing with your father and smoothing the dress. When you put your hands on the chair, ready to take it back to place, you turned to Spencer once again:
“I'm going to bring my dad to BAU tomorrow, do you think me and you can meting and you give me the answer to the question tomorrow?” Your smile was able to light up the whole of Washington.
“S-sure!” Spencer's voice went up more high notes than he would like to admit.
And, even when you left, even when Morgan and Emily jokes him about it, and even when he finally lay down on his own bed, you were still the only thing that occupied Spencer's mind.
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smutsonian · 3 years
Text
we belong together
lee bodecker x female reader
summary: trying to break things off with lee because you didn’t want to be his toy anymore is harder than it seems
warnings: dark!lee bodecker, noncon, dubcon, smut, car shenanigans, stockholm syndrome-ish, obsession, possessiveness, angst, not proofread
word count: 4.3k
a/n: last part is rushed so ending probs suckkyyy 
masterlist
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“Yes, God! Yes!” Lee moaned in pleasure as his hands held your face down against his crotch, forcing you to gag on his huge cock. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbles as he ruts his hips towards your face, ignoring the gagging noises you’re making as he chases his release.
He throws his head back, ignoring the way you tried to push yourself up from his crotch and forcing your face harder down his cock while he ruts a few more times against your throat before growling in pleasure. 
“Jesus, Y/N,” he continues to hold your face down, forcing you to swallow every single drop of his cum, even chuckling at the gurgling noises coming from you. After a few twitches of his dick in your mouth, he pulls on your hair until you’re face to face with him before attacking your lips with his own, tongue invading the insides of your mouth so he can taste himself in your mouth. 
He moans against your lips before pulling away and admiring the look on your face. A few drops of his cum on the corner of your mouth, eyes red and teary from his cock, and hair a mess from how he held and tugged on it too much. “So goddamn beautiful…” He caresses your face with a smile on his face.
“Thanks,” you let out a sigh before pulling your face away from his hold, turning away from him to face the car window. Lee’s face falls at your actions and before he could ask what’s wrong, you spoke up again. “Can you please take me home? Right now.” Your voice held no emotion although it’s clear that you didn’t want to talk about anything at all so Lee just sighed before starting the car and driving towards your home.
“Alright, sweetie. We’re here.” Lee smiles before moving towards you to press a kiss on your lips which you avoided so his kiss landed on your cheek instead. Lee lets out a grumble before frowning at you. “Is anything wrong? Why are you so pissy?” His face scrunched up in annoyance before it turned into an angry one when you ignored him, trying to open the locked door. 
“You answer me when I ask you a question, girl.” Lee grabs your face with one hand before forcing you to look at him. “Nothing’s wrong, Lee,” you manage to stutter through his harsh hold on your cheeks.
“Bullshit!” He bellows before his hold on you tightened.
“Let go of me, Lee…” You try to pry his hand away but it was no use. He’s a strong man.
“Not until you tell me what your problem is, sweetie,” he finally lightens his hold on your cheeks as his voice starts to get calmer.
“You know you can tell me anything right? I’m here for you,” he moves his hand from your cheeks to the side of your face to caress it with what you can see as faux care.
You huff at him which caused him to frown slightly.
“Are you?” You ask lightly, afraid of awakening the dark side of him again.
“Are you really going to be there for me?” Your question made Lee huff in disbelief as if you’re the one speaking nonsense.
You cut him off before he could even reply. “Because from what I see, you’re only with me when you need to get your dick wet.” You spat, jaw clenching in anger as you tried to stop yourself from bursting into anger or in tears. It hurts to develop feelings for a man who only sees you and wants you for your body.
“Hey, heyy… Where the hell is this coming from?” He tries to pull you into a hug but you pushed on his chest which he frowned at but didn’t push anything seeing you so upset.
“What’s wrong, Y/N?” He deftly pries under your chin so he can stare at your glossy eyes.
“I’m done being your slut, Lee.” You hiss harshly, ripping his hand off your chin before slamming on the door. “Now open the fucking door!” You continue to bang on the door, waiting for him to finally unlock it.
“ENOUGH!”
You stilled as Lee’s booming voice fills the car. You’ve awakened what you didn’t want to see.
“You’re going to tell me what’s making you act like a bitch right now or so help me.” His eyes dark with anger and nose flaring and fury is enough to make you comply.
“I know you fuck a different whore every single night, Lee.” You deadpan, making him look at you with a confused look mixed with a surprised one.
“And I refuse to be one of your whores.” You let out a sigh, feeling all the tears falling when you can no longer hold them in. “I don’t want to be your fucking whore, Lee!” You cry out before banging on the door once more.
“What? Hey hey hey…” He pulls you away from the door, his hands securing your wrist together as he successfully pulls you closer to him. 
“You are not a whore, okay? You are my girl. You’re mine and I’m yours.”
“You’re not mine. You let all those other women fuck you!” You shout at him but he only shushed you with his meaningless words.
“No. No. They don’t mean anything to me, sweetie. You’re the only woman for me. I do love you and I know how much you love me. Why else are you going to make such a fuss right now if not.” He lets out a chuckle before forcing you into a hug which you had no choice but to participate in.
You stayed in that position for a while before you’re finally able to pull away. You wipe the tears off your face before sniffling. “I don’t love you.” You whisper.
“That’s a lie.” Was his answer.
“No.” You stare at him.
“I don’t love you anymore.” You hold eye contact, hoping that he can’t see through your lies, and thankfully, it works because you see his resolve fading.
“Don’t lie to me, Lee. You don’t love me.” 
“Of course I do!” He pleads.
“You don’t!” You cut him off. “You love how I take care of your cock!” He shakes his head at your words in disbelief. 
“We’ve never even been on a fucking date.” You huff, realizing how stupid you are to fall in love with a man who’s been using you for his pleasure.
Lee scoffs before rolling his eyes. “So let’s go on a date then. If you want a date so fucking bad then let’s go on one. I’ll drop all those worthless whores for you as well. Just stay with me. I love you.”
“NO YOU DON’T, LEE! YOU DON’T!” You scream at him while hitting his chest which didn’t really do anything to him.
“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to lose your toy. We were never together and apparently never exclusive.” You huff before sighing out loud.
“You can’t leave me. You fucking love me.” He states, staring at nothing before looking back at you when you let out a huff. He suddenly grabs your face, pressing a wet kiss on your mouth and poking his tongue inside as his hands grabbed at your body.
His hand suddenly cups your core making you squeal and moan at the sensation. You feel him smirk through the kiss which made you push him with all your might until he was off of you. “Get off of me!” 
“Your body can’t fuckin’ lie to me, sweetie. You’re still in love with me. You belong to me. We belong to each other!” He bites his bottom lip before palming his hard cock through his pants.
“Those whores mean nothing to me. You’re the only one who can drink my cum you know. Those whores don’t deserve it. Only you.” 
“Wow! Thank you!” You fake a smile before rolling your eyes at him. “You are fucking disgusting.” You reach forward so you can unlock your side of the door before sitting back and looking at him.
“Don’t ever come fucking near me again. I deserve someone who actually appreciates me and loves me.” You reach inside your bag before pulling out a piece of paper and throwing it at his face.
“Sweetie—” Lee tries to reach for you but he was too late. His door slams shut and you’re already running away from him and into your house.
Lee looks down at the piece of paper which is a photo of the both of you. It was just after you finished sucking his cock like the few other times you did. Hair a mess, eyes red and mouth wet. He was beside you, holding you close as the both of you smiled happily at the camera. It was the first time you told him that you love him. The first of many but every time you said those words, Lee never returned them. He wasn’t one with words but he thought he was showing you how much he loves you but he was fucking wrong. Now you’re gone and he’s realizing that just now. He should’ve said those simple words. He would’ve said it if he knew you wanted to hear those words. He’d do anything for you. 
In fact, he’ll do anything to have you back. Whether you like it or not. Besides, you need to be taught a lesson after acting like a fucking brat. 
Lee could already feel his cock swelling at the thought of him putting you in place.
Oh, you’ll pay. And then he’ll show you just how much he fucking loves you.
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You thought he was off your back but you’re wrong. You got so comfortable without him and that's a big mistake.
Lee always watched you. He continues to watch you as you go on about your day. He watches you as you continue to be his good girl. Your words about someone loving and appreciating you made him think that there’s someone else but as he continues to follow you around, he didn’t see anyone. 
He would smile when he sees your head scanning the room when someone mentions his name at the restaurant or somewhere else. It made it clear that you still love him. Your lies will never work on him. You belong to him.
You belong to him and only him.
You were doing so well. But then he noticed how you no longer react when his name gets mentioned. Your lack of interest when people say something about the sheriff only infuriated him. And then he sees a guy with you and he realizes why.
It was at the local shop where you usually get your groceries and suddenly, this lanky kid gains the confidence to put a finger on you? On Lee’s girl of all. What, just because he wasn’t by your side for a whole week, that means people can try you out? No. Not in Lee’s watch. Not his girl. And for you to actually entertain the guy… Do you think that that lanky boy can appreciate you how Lee appreciates you? Do you think that that lanky boy can love you like Lee does?
No one can love you as much as Lee does. He failed to show you, yes, but he’s going to show you right now. With or without the lanky boy watching the both of you. You’re making yourself a whore for that lanky kid? You told Lee that you didn’t want to be a whore but here you are, making a whore of yourself for a fucking loser.
Oh, you have done it.
You forget who you are but Lee is more than willing to make you remember just who you fucking belong to.
Lee flounces towards you and the loser before slipping an arm to your waist and pulling you incredibly close to him. You immediately hated yourself for loving the familiar feeling of his body against yours. His warmth feels so familiar and you just want to drown in his body but you have to remind yourself how he’s no good for you.
“What’re you doing here, Lee?” You whisper before trying to pry him away from you but that only made him hold you tighter and closer, grunting in your ear. “Don’t make this worse for yourself, sweetie.” He growls into your ear before pressing a kiss on your forehead, making the cashier who’s been talking to you awkwardly cough before handing you the bag of groceries which Lee took with a smirk. 
“Thanks for helping my girl out. I can take it from here, punk.” Lee scoffs at the cashier before pulling you towards his car.
“Lee, what the fu— ”
“Watch your fucking mouth. You’ve already got yourself in so much trouble, you fucking brat. Don’t fucking try me.” You saw his jaw clench while his nose flared in anger as he started the car before driving off.
You wanted to question him when he went past the turn to your house but the expression on his face left no room for confrontation. It would be like digging a deeper hole if you even try to talk to him right now. So you remained silent. Waiting for whatever Lee has in store for you.
It surprised you when you realized that Lee’s taking you to his house. It’s not like you’ve never seen it. You did... once. And that was when he got too drunk and demanded you to cuddle him until he fell asleep. That was probably the only time he acted that way. He’ll only show affection when he’s not his usual self, apparently. His house was a mess back then and you weren’t really surprised by it. He’s a busy man and he’s probably too busy to take care of his home. And it’s not like he actually cares about it.
“I’ll keep my mouth shut if I were you.” Lee stops the car abruptly before getting out and walking towards your side before opening the door for you and pulling you out by your arm. “You’ve already earned yourself ten from being a brat and another ten from that lanky cashier,” he continues to berate you whilst he pushes you into the surprisingly clean house. The numbers he was talking about remain a mystery and you didn’t get to dwell on it much because the situation of his home made you gawk in awe. When did this place become this tidy?
“Bend over the sofa,” he grabs your arm once more before pulling you towards the leather sofa and pushing on your upper back until you’re bent over the arm of the sofa. 
“L-Lee?” Your voice trembles in fear as you start to realize what the numbers from before meant. “W-what?”
“The sooner we start, the sooner we’ll finish. I just gotta remind you of some things because you’re forgetting who you are, sweetie. You’re forgetting who you belong to.” He quickly pulls your bottoms down along with your underwear and you hear him making a sound. 
“Ah, I fucking missed this pretty ass…” You feel his rough hands groping your ass hard which made you whimper and squirm under his hold but one hard slap made you stiffen up. 
“Stay still and be a good girl now,” he whispers before pressing a kiss on your clothed shoulder. 
*SLAP* 
Another slap makes you whimper again. Lee tries to soothe you with gentle whispers but it didn’t really work because the more he smacks your flesh, the more painful it gets. 
“Pl-Please! Stop it, Lee… It hurts…” You pleaded quietly as fat tears fall down your cheeks.
“You’re doing good, sweetie… Just a few more,” was the only response you got from Lee.
He resumes his punishment while you bury your face down the sofa, screaming into the furniture in pain and wailing as his hands alternately fall down your ass. 
Continuous hard slaps fell on your ass before he finally stops, his rough hands now massaging your warm ass.
“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed before bending over and covering your body with his. He kisses the side of your face while he cuddles you, whispering compliments in your ear before pulling you up by your waist and quickly dragging your body to his bedroom. 
The bedroom that was a mess from before looks really organized and homey now than the last time you’re here.
“This is probably one of the reasons why I can’t take you out on a date… Was working my damn ass off to make this place livable… For us.” He didn’t give you time to react because he was already on you, pressing a wet kiss on your lips while he pushes you until your back falls onto the soft mattress of his bed.
“I only want what’s best for you,” he pulls away to speak those words before slamming his lips back onto yours. His hands trail to the front of your shirt, palming your breasts through the cloth before harshly ripping them off your body.
“Goddamn beautiful,” he whispers before moving his lips to your neck and sucking harshly, eager to leave his mark on your body. Just one of the many he’ll be leaving on your body.
“L-Lee! Please…” You sobbed, trying to pull his head away from your neck by tugging on his hair but he only moaned in response.
“What, sweetie? You want more? You just have to ask nicely…” He licks a spot on your neck before sucking again.
“No! Please stop! Get off!” You push on his chest and this time, he pulls away before staring down at your face and then your body.
“What are you talking about, sweetie? I have to make it up to you. I have a lot to make up to…” He smirks before spreading your legs wide open and crawling down so his face is in front of your glimmering core.
“You don’t want them pretty wrists broken, do you?” He gives you a dark look, forcing you to nod at him with wide and terrified eyes.
“Then keep your hands to yourself, okay?” He raises an eyebrow before smirking at your nodding head.
“You can pull on my hair. I like it when you do that.” He chuckles before burying his face in between your legs, surprising you at the warm and wet flick of his tongue on your clit. Your legs tried to clench together but his strong hands stopped you from locking his head in. 
“Fucking delicious,” his breath blows on your clit, making your hips stutter. He chuckles against your core, sending vibrations all over your body.
“Should’ve done this a long time ago. You deserve all the pleasure in the world, taking care of me and all…” Your eyes widened when he inserted a finger, and then another before twisting inside of you, looking for that certain spongy spot that’ll drive you insane.
“Ah, there we go!” He says over you scream when he finds that special spot. He watches your pleasured face before going back down on your clit, tongue flicking wildly on your sensitive nub while his fingers continue to hit your special spot.
Your back arches at the unfamiliar sensation and Lee doubles his efforts as you cum on his tongue and fingers.
“Such a fucking good girl! My good girl.” He continues to drink your juice while you try to relax from the high he just pulled from you.
He crawls up your body until his face is just above you.
“I love you, sweetie. I should’ve said it a long time ago but I’m too much of an idiot. But I’m telling you now that I love you and only you. I love you now and I’ll love you forever.” He kisses you, not with lust but with love and you couldn’t help but cry at the overwhelming sensation he’s giving you. First, the spankings. Second, the first orgasm. Then, he tells you he loves you. It’s all too much for you. You never expected it from Lee but here he is now…
“I failed to make you feel loved but now… I’m going to make it up to you…” He places a kiss on your forehead before kissing you on the lips once more.
“I fucking love you.” He stares at you, his forehead on yours before you feel it.
“Sshhh…” He shushes you when you start squirming at the feeling of his tip poking at your entrance.
“L-Lee… Please don—”
“Don’t worry, sweetie… I’m here. I’ll make you feel good… I’ll take care of you…” His ginormous tip starts to enter you slowly and you close your eyes at the painful sensation.
You feel his lips kissing your wet cheeks as he whispers comforting words for you.
“I’m here… I love you… Fuck!” He fully settles inside you, breathing heavily at how your walls are hugging his huge cock.
“You feel so fucking good around me, sweetie. Like you belong to me… and you do! You belong to me!” He pulls out before slamming right back in.
“And seeing you with someone else? Seeing you being a whore for someone else when you told me you didn’t want to be my whore?” He sets a painful pace, harshly pulling out and slamming back in with power, loud slapping noises fill the room as he continues to rut into you.
“But that’s okay… I’m at fault as well. I didn’t treat you right… I was too busy planning a future for us that I forgot to take care of you.” He grabs your hips to pull your body closer when he slams inside you. 
“LEE!” You scream, both in pain and pleasure.
“And for those other women? I didn’t want to hurt you with how I can get so needy but… You’re perfect for me. You belong to me and I belong to you. We belong to each other and we’re perfect for each other… You’re perfect for me and you take me so well!” He cries when your walls clench tighter around him.
“See?! Oh my fucking god!” His eyes close at the feeling of your walls milking him.
“Goddamn, sweetie!” He continues to rut into you, chasing for his orgasm when his eyes suddenly widen in realization.
“I’m going to cum, sweetie! But- but not before you do!” He trails a hand in between your bodies before skillfully rubbing on your clit with his thumb. 
“There you go! I can feel you pulsing around me, sweetie. You close?” He breathes heavily, watching your face as he continues to push himself in and out of you.
“L-lee…” you groan, trying to hide your face but Lee uses his free hand to keep your face in place. 
“So beautiful…” He kisses your lips hungrily before rutting into you faster. Harder. His thumb rubbing your clit with vigor and you couldn’t hold it anymore.
You cum with a cry, arms automatically wrapping around Lee’s neck as your body shakes in pleasure while your cunt clenched around his aching cock.
“Ahh FUCK!” Lee follows you, cumming with a shout as your walls continue to milk him. You can feel him emptying inside of you and you couldn’t help the feeling of being full. 
Lee suddenly presses a hand on your lower stomach, grinning when he feels his cock and his spent through your skin.
His jaw clenches before he scatters off you, you couldn’t watch him with how you’re so exhausted but seconds later, you feel him lying beside you on his side, watching you. 
He takes your hand before slipping something on your finger.
You pull your hand away from him before gasping in shock. It’s a ring…
“Lee?”
 He smiles at you before pressing a kiss on your head.
“I’ve been planning on giving that to you. Proposing... But shit happened…” He laughs before taking the blanket and covering the both of you. 
“I’ve been planning everything, sweetie. The house… Our house. I did everything for you. I’m doing everything for you. I’m sorry for not handling things better. That’s my fault.” He stares at you before smiling.
You give him a small smile, still a bit terrified but a bit… loved and soft as well…
You let him press a kiss on your lips but let out a gasp when he pulls away, his hands on your neck but not clenching to choke you.
“We’ve both made mistakes, sweetie. But we’ve learned, right?” He asks, looking at you expectantly.
“You don’t whore yourself out for other men. You’re not a whore. You told me that, right?” He smiles when you nod against his hold.
He retracts his hand, patting your head, and caressing your face.
“Such a good girl… One of the reasons why I fucking love you.” He kisses you again before sighing. 
“I’ll never get tired of saying I love you from now on…” He lays on his back before pulling your head on his chest, playing with your hair.
“You love me just as much, right?” He asks and you couldn’t even lie to him right now. Even if you keep denying it, you’ll never get over Lee. He is the only man you learned to love.
“Yes, Lee. I love you just as much…” 
His chest rumbles before he presses another kiss on your head.
“That’s because we’re perfect for each other… We belong together.”
And you believe him. You do belong together. What’s a relationship without ups and downs, right? You’ll be spending your days and night with Lee just like before but you have a feeling that a lot of things will be different from now on. 
You stare at the ring on your finger, shining brightly in the dark.
Everything will be different from now on and it’s for the better.
You smile at the thought before staring up at Lee’s peaceful sleeping face.
 “We belong together.”
 ---
an: like i said... rushed ending sdfghjkl
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hangovercurse · 3 years
Text
I’d Drop it All for You
Pictures of you and Pete are spread all over the internet, causing a whirlwind of hate to enter your social media.
Request: “Pete content please! anything !!! smut fluff whatever”
Pete x Reader
Warnings: Cursing, depictions of depression and anxiety
A/N: *Insert normal spiel about respecting A.G. and only using her for plot purposes. No harm intended.* Also I wrote most of this after a meeting with my therapist so... enjoy :) (He’s so cute in this gif I wanna kiss his face)
Word Count: 1820
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You weren’t one of those people who loved being the center of attention. You knew that being in the spotlight also meant constantly living under a microscope, and you decided a long time ago that that was not for you.
But you were lucky enough to work as an assistant art director at just 24. You were hoping that The King of Staten Island, your newest project, would help get your name out into the professional world. But that wasn’t the only thing to come out of the film.
It happened unexpectedly, you showed up on set the first day, ready to do whatever the art director required of you. You couldn’t help but be slightly distracted by the lead actor and writer, Pete Davidson. He was so kind and funny, and he wasn’t uptight like everyone else.
After a few hours of filming, he came up to you, introducing himself. He said he “wanted to get to know everyone working on the project,” but you didn’t see him introducing himself to anyone else. You two started talking during breaks. Then he started sitting with you at lunch. Then he was asking for your number.
In a matter of weeks he was asking you out to dinner, taking you to a cozy restaurant that you absolutely adored. He walked you home, his hand grazing yours until you intertwined your fingers.
It was all very romantic, so when Pete asked if he could take you on another, you obviously said yes. Flash forward two weeks and he finally got the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, even though you were both exclusively seeing each other already.
After filming ended 2 months later, you were still working on the film in post, which meant you had an excuse to stay  in Staten Island with Pete. After about 2 weeks in post, you spent more nights in his bed than your hotel’s.
Nearly 6 months later and you were happier than ever. You were splitting your time between your small apartment in the Bronx and Pete’s basement apartment. Pete introduced you to most of his friends, and you introduced him to yours.
But other than your small circles of friends, you kept your relationship fairly quiet. Pete doesn’t have social media and yours is strictly professional, so there are no pictures of you two together. You weren’t hiding each other, you loved each other, you just had no reason to tell tabloids. And you were perfectly happy with that.
Which made it so much worse when various news sites had pictures of you two holding hands. Had they been anyone else you would’ve thought they were cute, walking along the South Beach oceanside at night.
Pete had been in the SNL studio all day when the pictures were released, while you were in his apartment, trying your best to focus on the photoset in front of you. The production team wanted the film to scream “teen romance,” which basically entails subtle pink undertones and a higher saturation. But you couldn’t quite get the coloring right, probably because you weren’t actually focusing on the colors.
You sighed, looking at the time and realizing that Pete won’t be back until sometime after 2am, which was a whole 5 hours away. You let out a huff, pushing away from the desk and making your way to Pete’s closet and searching for one of his hoodies. They always smelled like him (and weed), so it was a comfort to you.
You crashed onto the bed, finding the phone that you had tossed there a few hours earlier. Turning it on you were surprised by the number of notifications you were getting. You knew the photos had surfaced but you weren’t expecting this.
Your Instagram was blowing up with new follows, likes, and comments. It was kind of exciting at first until you started reading some of the comments.
I mean, we knew he would downgrade from Ari, but this is like… really far down.
This girl really thinks she’s special just bc Pete’s dating her. Hun he could do so much better
Who is she?!? Literally no one.
Someone needs to show her how to dress
That hairstyle is not it honey
Pete Davidson is dating YOU??? He could do sooo much better
Ari was prettier sorry not sorry
The entire comment section on your last post, a picture of you on the set of your latest film, was pretty much the same. There were some nice comments, but a lot of mean ones.
And you couldn’t help it, you couldn’t stop looking at them. It felt so cliché, but it was like all of your deepest insecurities about being with Pete were thrown out on the table.
You knew that Pete had a fairly large following, and that a lot of people had really strong feelings about him. You had expected that if and when your relationship went public you would have a lot of people watching you, scrutinizing you. But you didn’t care because Pete was worth it.
Now you weren’t so sure. It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle people talking bad about you, because you definitely could, even if it hurt. You just weren’t expecting the amount of people comparing you to Ariana or saying that Pete could do so much better.
And it only bothered you so much because you felt it too. Your inner demons loved to remind you that Pete had dated Ariana fucking Grande and now he’s dating you. Anyone could see an obvious downgrade.
You turned your phone off and threw it on the opposite side of the bed, trying to think positive thoughts. “I am in control of my own thoughts and emotions. I am catching my negative thoughts and fixing them.” You murmured your therapist’s mantra to yourself, but it was too late. The thoughts had already taken hold of your mind.
Your eyes started to water as you could feel the heavy feeling in your chest set in. You pulled the hood over your head, pulling the straps to hide as much of your face as possible, and pulling your knees to your chest. You laid like that for a while, tears falling as doubts ran through your head. Once you had effectively exhausted your thoughts, you went numb. Your tears had stopped, but you couldn’t move. This wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but it sure wasn’t pleasurable.
There was a sort of buzzing throughout your body, almost like the feeling when your foot falls asleep, but everywhere. It seemed to block out your sound, as you didn’t hear the basement door open. You only knew that Pete was home when he sat beside you on the bed, pulling the hood off your face.
“There’s my beautiful girl.” He smiled at you. You tried your best to fake one back, but you honestly couldn’t find the energy. Pete pulled you so you were sitting up, back pressed against his front. His arms wrapped around your middle as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “What’s goin on?” He murmured against your skin.
“Did you see them?” You asked, your voice quiet and hoarse.
Pete let out a sigh, “Yeah, I saw them.” He paused, his hold on you getting tighter, like he was making sure you couldn’t leave. “I’m sorry baby. I know you didn’t want it to be a whole big thing.”
You turned your head to face him, “It’s not that. I really don’t mind that people know. We weren’t trying to hide anything.”
He smiled, “Yeah, I know I just- it was nice having this to ourselves.”
He wanted to hide you. He’s embarrassed of you.
Your inner dialogue never seemed to shut up.
You turned away from Pete, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes. “Yeah.” You whispered.
“What’s wrong, you’re still upset.” He rocked you in his arms, kissing the top of your head. You shrugged in response, not trusting yourself to talk. “You can talk to me, y’know.”
You nodded, leaning further into Pete’s chest. “People found my Instagram.” You murmured, looking down and tracing the arrow tattoo on his hand.
“Whaddya mean? I thought it was public?” He furrowed his eyebrows.
You sighed, wishing you hadn’t said anything. “Yeah, it is. But after all the articles people started following me and shit.”
“I would ask how that’s a problem but I deleted my Instagram so I can’t really talk.” You could tell he was trying to make you feel better, but you couldn’t seem to get out of your haze.
You shook your head, deciding to drop the matter. “It’s not, I’m just being overdramatic.” You sighed, putting on a fake smile and facing him fully. “Wanna watch a movie?” You asked, trying to change the topic.
He gave you the I-know-you’re-bullshitting-me look, which made you look down. “Something’s bothering you, Y/N. And you’re trying to pretend it doesn’t because you think your feelings aren’t valid, but they are.” He tilted his head, trying to meet your eyes that were still trained on the bedsheets below you.
“Where’d you learn that one?” You chuckled half-heartedly.
“Rehab part 2” he smiled, hand coming to your jaw to tilt your head up. “C’mon, talk to me. I wanna help.”
You huffed, moving towards the opposite side of the bed where your phone laid. You opened it, finding your Instagram, and showing him the comments. His eyebrows furrowed as he scrolled through the comments. When he decided he’d had enough he put your phone down, grabbing your waist and lifting you onto his lap so you were essentially straddling him.
He leaned his forehead against your own, your noses touching. “That’s all bullshit, you know that, right?”
You looked down, biting your lip. “Y/N you’re the most amazing, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, okay? I’m in love with you, not anyone else.” Pete’s eyes were searching yours, trying to figure out what was going on in your head.
“I know.” You sighed, “It’s just hard to be with you and not compare myself to her. And then all these people started to do it too, and they kept saying that you could do so much better and you can. So, I dunno I guess I just kind of spiraled.”
Pete captured your lips in a long, passionate kiss. “Y/N. There is literally no better than you. I can’t do better because you are the best woman I have ever loved. “
You pulled Pete in for another kiss. “Thank you, Pete. I love you.”
“I love you too. If this happens again, I want you to call me. I don’t care what I’m doing, I’d drop it all for you.” You smiled, sitting in the arms of the guy you loved. The thoughts didn’t just magically go away, but for a brief moment in time, you were happy.
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bratkook · 3 years
Text
like you used to. jjk
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“So kill me like you used to...”
part two.
pairing. ex boyfriend!jungkook x reader genre. angst, mentions of smut, toxic exes warnings. very toxic depictions of relationships, hints at infidelity, drunken mistakes, they’re both very toxic for each other and just can’t stay away, brief mentions of smut word count. 2.9k note. this is just a lump of angst that my mind conjured at 1am last night, i just love angst and messy relationships that are destined to fail 😌(its not edited so if u see a typo no u dont)
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It always started with a phone call. 
Whether it was from you or him always changed. Sometimes he’d get the call at two in the morning, vision blurry as he brought the phone to his face and saw your name illuminated on the screen, that old goofy selfie you had together still set as your contact photo. He’d hesitate for a moment just to keep you on your toes before pressing accept, already getting up and putting pants on because he knew just what you were calling for. 
Tonight was your turn to be on the receiving end, laying in bed comfortably as you scrolled through random posts to try to help you sleep, the flash of his face fills your phone, it’s a random close up photo of his eyes staring right into the camera, crinkled up in a smile. Even though his name is changed in your contacts, no longer having the cute bunny emoji tacked to the end, you know you’ll still pick up in a heartbeat. And you do. 
The second you press accept you’re met with the familiar sound of his voice, slurred and thick as he speaks so jumbled up you would barely be able to understand him if you didn’t already know what he was saying. It was the same things he always said whenever he got like this, proclamations of love that only cut up your freshly scabbed over wounds, salt rubbing into them when he cries about how he misses you, promises to change. 
They get cut off when the phone is yanked away from his grasp, the second familiar voice belonging to his buddy Yugyeom now speaking into the receiver. “You gotta pick him up Y/N.”
The annoyance is evident in his voice, the babbling of Jungkook still heard in the background along with the dull beat of whatever place they were outside of. 
“He’s not my responsibility Yugyeom.”
He simply sighs into the phone, staring at his mess of a friend before rubbing his jaw, sore and aching from where he had just been socked after attempting to force him into an uber. “Yeah well he won’t let anyone else take him home, he’s drunk as fuck. I’ll send you the location.”
Not waiting for a response he hangs up and sends you a pin of where they’re at, thrusting the phone back into his friend’s hands before getting into that uber and leaving Jungkook alone while he whines against the dirty bar wall, crouching down onto the filthy sidewalk as the car drove off. 
Yugyeom knew you would come to his rescue like you always did, never once saying no and letting Jungkook fend for himself because on the rare occasions where you’d call him drunk and crying he’d do the same. 
Getting into the car still dressed in your pajamas, shoes thrown on without being laced up, hair still messy, it felt like routine now from how often it happened. Jungkook called you sober, text you while in a sane state of mind, but without fail at least once a month he’d get absolutely shit faced and call you, leaving you what he thought were heartfelt voicemails if by some chance you didn’t answer. 
It was the same bar every time, a bar you used to frequent with him, knowing the location and all the small side streets to get you there without needing directions. Doing this felt like such a normal part of your life it almost made you forget that you and Jungkook weren’t together anymore. It’s been a year since you split and you still find yourself thinking if things could be different. 
Would it have been best if you never confessed to each other, never admitted to the small inkling of a crush before it was able to fully blossom? It was hard not to wonder how different life would be now if you had walked away the first time things went south, if he had walked away after the first argument. 
Whenever he called you, pulled you in with those drunken promises it was easy to convince yourself that your relationship was perfect, that it was worth all of the struggles. Your brain morphed each fight, each time you cried alone, twisted it around and molded it to make it easier to consume, easier to believe you were meant to be. 
You thought you were soulmates, and maybe you were, two people destined to be together, meeting at the wrong time, under the wrong circumstances. What was meant to be perfect puzzle pieces connected had slowly turned into jagged edges that no longer clicked regardless of how hard you tried to jam them together, foolishly thinking you could spill your love into the gaps to mend the spaces, making the pieces whole once more. 
Love was never enough. 
Love made you stupid, made you blind and gullible, smiling through lies to avoid arguments, going to bed angry until he was hovering over you, coaxing you into forgiveness with soft kisses and gentle touches. It always went this way, regardless of who’s fault it was without fail he’d end up slot between your legs, the only time the puzzle pieces connected perfectly, allowing him to fuck you as if he’d never see you again. Murmurs of love and adoration were passed between panting breaths, sloppy kisses, shared moans to mask the empty promises you made every time.
Staying away from each other was a hard habit to kick, the two of you stuck on an endless game of seesaw, neither of you having the guts to get off and move on. All it took was a simple drunk phone call for you to go his way, the slur of his voice as he cries into the receiver about how much he loved you, missed you, needed you next to him, wanted to try again. It reeled you in so easily, winding you up until you were hauling your sloppy ex boyfriend off the dirty floor and into your small car. 
He remembers none of this, he never did, not fully anyways. Small tidbits of words he said flash in his mind as he comes to, drool on his cheek and neck sore from the unfortunate position he had slept in, groggy and unaware of his surroundings. 
He knew your apartment too well, recognized the green wall he had helped you paint, now holding endless pictures of you and your friends. None of Jungkook anymore. 
All of those photos were gone now, not burned or shredded in some ritual to get over him, simply tucked into a box and shoved so far into your closet you hoped you would forget it. You never did of course, the way the box laid dust free made it clear how often you pulled it out and sorted through the photos whenever you had too much wine, whenever you had off days where you just felt so alone and wished you could go back to the times you had convinced yourself were better. They weren’t, you knew they weren’t once you sobered up and balanced out your emotions.
Jungkook doesn’t feel bothered that not a trace of him remained visible in your home, he knew his presence lingered in the cracks, buried so deep in the crevices of your mind he knew you would always think of him. 
He groans softly as his eyes roam the interior of your home, the throbbing in his temples making him stop and shut his lids, not needing to analyze the place he was at less than two weeks ago when you had called him over. Jungkook briefly wonders if he should sneak his way out, not used to waking up on the couch instead of in your bed right beside you, maybe he had said something last night that crossed the line and landed him on the couch as a punishment. 
As you finally emerge from your room his plan of escape is put to a stop, his eyes gravitating towards your bedroom door, seeing the way you cautiously step out. Having heard Jungkook wake up since you had already been awake for the past hour, your body not allowing you to sleep while knowing he was in the other room, it took a few minutes of courage before you were able to face him. 
Spotting him on your couch shows how much he doesn’t belong, the pinned leather jacket he wore looking so harsh against the light coloring of your furniture, his dark disheveled hair contrasting with the tidy way you organized your apartment. He senses it, the skin crawling sensation that spreads the longer you stare at him, how he felt so out of place somewhere he used to call home at one point. 
“Thank you for picking me up.” He chooses to break the silence, voice raspy, his internal self screaming at him for always doing this. His eyes are sincere, genuinely meaning it, knowing just how messy he got when he had too much to drink, how his friends could never handle him when he crossed the line and began to call for you. 
Like always his words were routine so he expects it when you huff and say, “You need better friends Jungkook.”
“I know.” Because he did, he knew his friends enabled him, riled him up and once he became too much they pushed him onto you, knowing Jungkook’s grip on you was still too strong for you to ever say no. 
“What if I hadn’t picked you up? Would they have left you on the side of the bar to fend for yourself?”
“Probably,” he shrugs, from past experiences he knows very well they would have. His friends had dealt with Jungkook crying over you far too much, their patience fully stamped out, no longer able to tolerate him when he became like this. 
Not even realizing when he begins to smile as he thought of the nights you didn’t pick up, how he had ended up in the most random locations because he refused to go home to a place you weren’t, he snaps out of it when you scoff. “It’s not funny Jungkook, you could have gotten hurt or something.”
There it was, the reason you were upset. Not because he had called you and spewed the same bullshit he always did, no that you could tolerate. You were upset, and worried, that you’d get a following call from someone stating he had injured himself while calling for you. 
“I know.”
You pause to breathe, his short responses not irking you like it should, arms crossed over your chest as you observe your ex boyfriend still sitting on the couch, looking like a scolded child. 
“You can’t call me anymore Jungkook.” How you have the nerve to say that to him is funny, acting as if ten days ago you weren’t the one doing this to him, telling him you missed him, securing your anchor around his foot and dragging him back under with you. 
This is the checklist you needed to go down, a formality of the morning after so he doesn’t mind it. Instead he frowns at the way you continue to say his name, the way it rolls off your tongue makes him wince, missing the way you’d call him Kookie, playful pet names like Bunny, something he swore he hated but secretly loved. Jungkook wished he could hear you say it again, humor you with that damned bunny eared headband he’d wear to hear you laugh, squeal as he posed and dance for whatever silly video you recorded as you shouted out the ridiculous nickname. 
The last time he heard those words spill out of your mouth had been too long ago. 
“I’m sorry.” he admits, he knew he had to stop, couldn’t continue to hold onto the past, knowing how wrong you were for each other but he wasn’t the only one. Those were the same words you told him ten days ago, apologizing with guilty eyes for asking him to come over when you were lonely, needing a familiar body to occupy the space next to you, wanting his hands to soothe you, make you feel whole again just for a night. 
Once the sun came up it was back to normal, the two of you having the repeat conversation you had every time, the exact one you were having now. A formality. Nothing more, just mindless words that you would both agree to just to move along, to make you both feel better, more secure with yourself until the next time the phone rang. 
Your heart twists in your chest as you look at him, the same toxic love you had for him brewing in your heart, spilling over and burning you but you ignore the pain, convince yourself you don’t feel it as you breathe in. That same rope latches around Jungkook’s ankle as you avert your eyes for a brief second before looking back at him with a small sigh. “Do you want breakfast? I know how you get when you have a hangover.”
He smiles for the first time, charming as always, looking up at you through the subtle waves in his hair. “I probably shouldn’t.”
You know this. He definitely shouldn’t because breakfast will turn into words exchanged, civil at first, flirty the next, a coin flipped to decide if a petty argument would begin or if you’d reminisce about the good times. Regardless of the outcome, what always followed ended with you moaning out his name as he rocked into you, those same empty promises spilling through his lips that you swallowed with a kiss. 
A brief moment of bliss, a small dose of the past that only serves to hurt you further but you crave it, loving the small rush that came with arguing, the roughness of his hands as he pushed you around before sliding home, burying his face into your neck as he broke you down all over again. 
Normally you’d try to convince him further, but as your mouth opens to protest you get flashes of the night before, how you had carried Jungkook up your flight of stairs, hearing him ramble about nonsense so slurred together you paid it no mind. You would have had him sleep in your bed beside you like you always did but when you fish his phone out and begin to slide his jacket off it buzzes to life. 
Always being nosey you type in his password, smiling when you realize it was still your old anniversary but when you unlock it and see a flood of messages from a girl named Natalie, calling him babe, asking where he was, the smile falls from your face as you start to snoop. 
It doesn’t take much scrolling through their thread of messages to easily discover she was his girlfriend, blissfully unaware that he was shit faced and calling you, confessing to his love for you while she laid at home and wondered if he was having fun with his friends. She reminded you of yourself, of the way you used to be with him and it left a sour feeling on your tongue. 
“Yeah you probably shouldn’t.” 
He stands up now, following you slowly as you approach the door, heavy boots thumping on the hardwood as he reluctantly steps closer to the exit. He doesn’t want to leave, wants you to try to convince him to stay, not knowing that you knew the dirty secret he was hiding buried in his phone. 
You don’t decide to tell him you know, it was pointless. That was just how Jungkook was wired, so much love to give he had to spread it out, give everyone a fair share of it, choosing to pretend he wasn’t being selfish. It was naive to believe it, to think all the love he held was strictly for you, it was why he was able to pull the hood over your eyes so easily. 
Even when you pull the door open and give him a tightlipped smile he knows you’ll still call him, forget all about Natalie when you’re lonely once more. So when you look him in the eyes and sigh, “Goodbye Jungkook.” He knows it’s not for long, maybe a week or so, maybe less. 
He simply smiles, stuffing his hands into his jeans as he shuffles out, turning to face you as he steps backwards. “See you later Y/N.” And his words sting in a way he doesn’t mean, knowing just how right he was. 
Jungkook would never mind how heavy the anchor you hooked on his ankle was because he knew you would forever be a sucker for him. 
As you shut the door behind you it feels like a small weight starts to hang from your shoulders, the same tug starting from your chest, guiding you into your room until you’re pulling out the cursed box and sorting through those damned photos. With stinging eyes you flip through them for a moment, focusing on all the laughs captured on film, blurry vision moving to your phone beside you, hands already itching to call him again. 
It’s as if he knows, still inside your building, lingering in the lobby to give you a moment and it doesn’t take long. Once his phone starts to vibrate he smiles, staring at the photo of you as you call him like clockwork. With a clear of his throat he answers the phone, barely saying hello before he hears a small sniffle through the speaker. 
“I miss you Kookie.” 
Jungkook lets his eyes shut as he presses the elevator button, loving the feeling of being needed by you, already knowing to head back up because this was routine. 
“I know you do baby, I’ll be right up.”
And just like that you’re once again desperately trying to make those stupid puzzle pieces fit together, hoping that maybe this time love would be enough.
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Harry Gets Food Poisoning While at Your House
This prompt was requested by this ask and I just put my own take on it. Hope everyone enjoys.
Things to help you understand this story better:
(Boyfriend-Girlfriend/Dating for 2 years/Harry stays over at your place a lot/You ate something different than Harry/Dunkirk Harry era)
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(wish that photo was really Harry but unfortunately its not. dead give away by the hand :( )
Harry and yourself decided to order Chinese take-out for a at-home date night. You both scoffed down the tasty food while sitting on the sofa watching romantic comedies. Once you finished eating, you and Harry cuddled together on the sofa under a warm fluffy blanket. You laying on your back and Harry laying on his tummy between your legs, with his head resting on your boobs. While focusing on the film, you run your small fingers in his brown curls and he relaxes into your touch, letting out content sighs.
About an hour after eating, Harry becomes restless on top of you. Before, he was laying peacefully, but now he's squirming every few seconds. "You alright babe?" you question down to Harry on your chest.
"Mhmm my stomachs starting to hurt." he replies truthfully. He's unsure the cause but his stomach is swirling and his heart rate is picking up at the mere thought of having to be sick. Especially the thought of being sick at his girlfriends house during the at-home date you had planed. He doesn't want to ruin it by getting sick.
"Oh m'sorry. Do you think it was the Chinese food?" you speak remorsefully.
"I don't know but I don't want to be sick," Harry says with a voice crack indicating he's actually getting upset, "and ruin our date night." When he finishes his sentence, he starts softly sobbing into your chest.
"Hey, hey, Harry," you say sternly but still in your caring voice, "you would not be ruining our date night. You can't help if your feel sick. Do you maybe want to go sit in the bathroom so you're closer to the toilet?"
Harry just nods his head and you help him stand up from his position on your chest and onto his barley stable feet. Then you guide him to your downstairs hall bathroom because its the closest bathroom to your living room. You walk Harry up to the toilet and help him kneel down in front and you squat down behind him. "I feel so sick y/n!" Harry moans out through shallow breaths.
"It's gonna be okay Harry. I'm right here. It's okay to be sick. I won't be mad." you reassure your boyfriend so he knows he doesn't have to keep in his sick for your sake and so he'll feel better. Because you know undoubtedly he has food poisoning from the Chinese food he ate earlier and if he keeps the toxins in his body, he will just feel sicker and sicker.
Harry's back arches over the toilet as he lets out a sickly sounding gag. You grimace at the noise but know you must keep it together to take care of him and comfort him. He's breathing rather heavy with his mouth hanging open and saliva dripping out into the water. "Shhh babe, just relax and throw up. Your tummy will feel so much better after." you gently coo in his ear. You have one hand rubbing circles on his muscular back and one hand pushing back his curly bangs that's falling in his face. He lets out a harsh dry heave and it follows with a long stream of vomit exiting out his mouth and splattering in the toilet water. You have to close your eyes to not be sick yourself.
In-between spells of emptying his stomach, Harry mutters, "You can leave me in here alone. Don't want you seeing me like this." He is absolutely crazy to think you'd leave him in such a vulnerable state. You love Harry and him being sick doesn't stray you away from being by his side in such a situation.
"Harry, I am not leaving you. I don't care if you're sick. You've seen me sick many times and took care of me each of those times. So I'm taking care of you." you calmly say back. Honestly, Harry feels so sick that he doesn't try and argue with you. If he's being truthful, he's actually thankful you're with him, comforting him, because he hates being sick alone. He may not admit that out loud but its true. Something else that happens when Harry's sick, alone or with someone there with him, he gets emotional. An uncontrollable emotion that follows during or after getting sick. One thing he hates most about this situation right now is looking weak in front of you. He's always so strong and being this vulnerable in your eyes suck.
What Harry doesn't know is that you like this side of him. Not the sick version of course but the weak side. It shows he isn't perfect and you honestly don't think you could even date someone who puts themselves out as such.
Harry forcefully throws up a few more times until he's just dry heaving with nothing more to expel. "I think you're done babe." you tell Harry softly as he's dry heaving with no results.
Harry just shakes his head weakly and replies, "I still feel sick though. My stomach hurts so bad." Tears are rolling down his face and his hands that grip the sides of the toilet seat are slightly shaking.
"I know but I think the toilet is making you feel more sick." You reach over him to flush his puke down the toilet so he doesn't have to look at it a minute longer. Harry sits up straight and turns his head back slowly to look at you. This is the first time you have seen his face clearly since he's gotten sick tonight and the first thing you notice is how red his eyes are, probably from all the gagging and dry heaving, and you see the wetness of his cheeks due to crying. Along with the bit of vomit that his on the corner of his pink lips and line of sweat on his forehead. You feel horrible for him. You'd hate to be in his position but almost wish the roles were reversed, just to take his discomfort away. That's how much you love him. You'd do just about anything for Harry. Even if that means take his food poisoning away from him and have it yourself.
You reach for some toilet paper and rip a piece off to wipe his mouth clean. While wiping his vomit covered mouth, Harry just sits and stares at you. He feels so little right now. Almost like he's a small child who's just been sick and their mum is cleaning them up. Even though Harry is embarrassed he got sick on what was supposed to be a lovely date night where you both ate non contaminated food, watched film after film, trying not to fall asleep, or maybe had some romantic intimacy at the end of the night, he actually feels happy right now. Not happy his stomach is upset but happy he got lucky enough to have a caring girlfriend that is by his side during his ugliest moments. He thinks he may have just fell more in love with you. Seeing how compassionate you are towards him when he's sick.
When you finish wiping around his mouth and a little bit of nasty drainage from his nose, Harry becomes emotional again. Like stated previously, he always gets quite emotional when he's sick but that's not the only cause of his emotions right now. He is also crying because he's thinking about how much he truly loves you and how he never thought he'd find someone with your level of compassion.
You throw away the soiled tissue and pull Harry forward so you can embrace him in a warm hug. You don't really understand why he's crying so much. Is it because his stomach is still hurting or he's embarrassed? "Why are you crying Harry?" you question him then continue, "It's alright. I'll give you medicine to make you feel better. Don't worry about that."
While rubbing both hands up and down his sweaty back, Harry says through soft sobs, "I just love you so much. How did I get so lucky. I've had partners in the past to push me away when I was sick and you didn't. You stayed and took care of me." He lifts his head so he can view your face when he mutters out the rest. "I'm gonna marry you one day you know. Want to call you my wife. Want to have lots of babies with you. Be with you till I'm a hundred. Promise I do."
His words have brought tears to your eyes. Knowing how grateful Harry is that you're taking care of him when he's sick means so much. You didn't think twice before helping him when he said he felt sick, so it must be the true love you feel for this man crying in your hold. With a shaky smile and watery eyes, you look at him in his glossy green eyes and say, "I would kiss you right now but I have a feeling your breath smells like puke so I'll pass. Love you so much Harry and of course I took care of you. I love you and that's what you do for the people you love. Take care of them in their weakest moments."
You hold him for a few more minutes on the bathroom floor until your bum gets sore from the hard tiles. You help Harry stand to his feet and walk him to your bedroom located up the stairs of your house. Then you help him slide into bed and tell him you'll be right back with some medicine and a glass of water.
A few minutes later, you come back with the upset stomach tablets and water for Harry to take and ease his turning tummy. Once he's taken the medicine, you go grab your mini trash bin in your bathroom and place it beside the bed incase he feels like he's gonna throw up again. Then you turn all the lights off and crawl under the warm blankets with your boyfriend. Without hesitation, Harry scoots over and places his head on your chest. He's past the point of being scared to look weak. He just wants comfort and the one thing that brings him the most is you. The love of his life. "Thank you for taking care of me tonight." Harry whispers with a hoarse voice.
"You don't need to thank me babe. I was glad to be there for you. I know you don't like getting sick and I was happy to at least make the experience a little bit better. Now go to sleep and if you feel sick again, the bin is on the floor beside the bed for you. Also don't be afraid to wake me up if you feel nauseous. I want to be there to comfort you." you reply back in a whispered tone. You kiss the top of his messy curls and Harry relaxes into your hold on him. Feeling safe and secure in your loving arms. Then you both fall fast asleep.
Thankfully Harry didn't get sick anymore through-out the night and the medicine you gave him seemed to have worked. The next day he was just exhausted form exerting so much energy being sick the day before but other than that, his stomach felt calm. You made him homemade chicken soup and cuddled him in bed, watching his favorite movies all day. Loving every second you get to spend with Harry before he has to leave and go on his world tour in a months time.
MASTERLIST & My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST
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zodiyack · 4 years
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Lacking In Facts
Requested by @ateliefloresdaprimavera​: Y/n’s having a heart to heart with Enola, she finally admits to someone that Sherlock is the love of her life, but she believes he's in love with her cousin, Irene Adler. She says she knows this because he still has Irene’s picture in his study, and he used to mix up their names. BUT, Sherlock is behind the door, listening to everything, and she couldn't be more wrong! She thinks he married her out of pity, but the truth is that he was never very good at expressing emotion, and he thought she was just shy. So, when they go back home that day, Sherlock tells his wife everything he's feeling, and they finally made up (and maybe, some kids in the future)
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Female!Reader
Warnings: Angst, fluff, me not proof-reading oops
Words: 1,185
Summary: (See Request)
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Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace-writes​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​, @simonsbluee​, @thewarriorprincessxo​, @maan24​, @beckster07890​, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​
Masterlist | Henry Cavill Masterlist
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Y/n was in the office, arms behind her resting atop the smooth wood of the desk she leaned against. Enola, sitting in her brother’s chair like a little doll in a child’s seat, listened with furrowed brows as her sister-in-law spoke. Her detective skills were put to use throughout their conversation. Every now and then, the Holmes girl’s face would morph in thought but her words were saved in a little pouch until Y/n would wait for her opinion.
“Why would you think that?” Her tone held genuine curiosity but the question also helped in getting more context.
“Look at the desk, Enola. The photos. They...see for yourself.”
Enol nodded and leaned forward, inspecting the variety of framed pictures her brother had placed on the surface. One of their family, one of him and Y/n, and then- Her eyes doubled in size, the small gasp telling Y/n she’d seen it.
“My cousin. Now, why would my husband keep pictures of Irene on his desk?”
“Perhaps they’re just really good...friends?” Enola couldn’t even believe the words that left her mouth. The disbelief put her at a loss for words, which was rare for Enola and her genius brother. The greater feeling was disappointment. Disappointment in her older brother for...whatever this situation was. “What else leads you to such a conclusion?”
“The fact that he couldn’t remember the difference in our names until only recently.”
“Explain, please.”
“Behind closed doors, he’d call me Irene or Adler, despite our names being different. In public, he’d refer to me as wife or something sweet, but when we were alone it was always the wrong name.”
This one had an explanation...if Enola’s theory was correct. She hoped with a strong passion that her brother only confused the two for reasons such as similarities in their faces. Then again, Y/n and Irene didn’t look as similar as siblings would.
“Does he still tend to mix your names?”
“No...not really...”
‘That’s a relief’, thought Enola. “Are you sure he wasn’t just confused?”
“By who he’s married to? Then yeah, he’s confused. Otherwise, he’s not. I...Do you think he married me out of pity?”
Enola choked on the air she’d inhaled, looking towards her sister in law with wide eyes once again. This time, Y/n had turned to face the girl, deep hurt sprawled across her features. Her brows were knitted and her eyes looked glossy- as if she would cry any moment. The tone of her question seemed to hold just as much sorrow as her e/c orbs, her voice even breaking near the end of her words.
“Y/n...”
“Enola. I’m...I’m serious. I don’t see why he would willingly marry me if he’s in love with my cousin. I want him to be happy but in order to do that, it would require me to be unhappy.”
“Are you happy? Like, truly happy?”
Y/n hesitated with her answer. “Somewhat.”
“Could you expand on that?”
“I’m happy with him...he’s the man of my dreams yet knowing he doesn’t belong to me only brings a cloud of hurt to my heart. I can’t live with a man who doesn’t truly love me.”
“Do you love him?” Enola already knew the answer. She’d seen the way Y/n looked at Sherlock, and the way Sherlock returned the look- however, her brother was a harder person to read. Perhaps she’d misread her older brother?
“Honestly? Yes. With all my heart. I’d die for him if it came to that,” she chuckled softly and thanked Enola for the handkerchief she’d passed after the first few tears spilt, “but what kind of wife would I be to hold him back from happiness?”
Unbeknownst to the two, who continued the debate, the man of the topic was standing behind the door. He sighed deeply and held a look of regret as he walked away.
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“Darling?” His voice rang throughout the home. It echoed in silence for a moment before the sound of steps rushing down a staircase responded. “There you are. When did you get home?”
“About an hour ago... I took a bath whilst waiting for you.”
“About that...” He frowned. There was no way she was actually waiting for him. If she truly felt insecure about her role as his wife, she did an amazing job hiding it. A flaw and gift all the same. “We need to talk.”
Y/n’s posture adjusted, the smile upon her lips, undoubtedly forced, falling. “Is something wrong?”
“Please, Y/n. This can no longer be avoided.” He tilted his head towards the sofa and held his hand out to direct her. As they relocated from the spot beside the stairs to the cushions, Sherlock thought over the words he’d say. She watched her husband with furrowed brows laced with concern.
“Sherlock, what’s bothering you?”
Sherlock almost laughed. “Nothing. The question is, what’s bothering you, Y/n?” Her head moved from the confused tilt back to it’s natural upright position. Brows unfurrowing and body suddenly still, he knew he asked the right question.
“Whatever do you mean by that? I’m fine...”
“No, you’re not. You tell me that over and over...” he scoffed, “I’ve never thought about how good of an actress you are.”
“Thank you?”
“Tell me, Y/n. Why won’t you tell me? You’ll tell Enola but when I ask, you act like nothing in the world could bother you. As much as it warms my heart seeing you happy, knowing that it’s all an act is like a stab in it and its faux joy.”
She couldn’t tell if he was hurt or upset. The smile he held, full of astonishment and disbelief, did nothing to help her reading. No words came to her for a defense but he spared her wordlessness as he continued.
“I would’ve told you, Y/n.” He grabbed her hands, causing her to lift her eyes to his. “I would’ve told you the truth if you’d just asked.”
“What truth? That you’re in love with-”
“No. I’m not in love with her. That would be a lie. The truth is that I’m horrible at expressing emotion. The truth is that I thought you were shy. The truth is that I’m in love with you, but in fear that I’d drive you away, I chose to keep it to myself. The truth is that I had just as hard of a time admitting it to myself as you did unto yourself.”
Y/n’s bottom lip quivered with the threat to spill more liquified sadness from her eyes. The confession had certainly caught her off-guard. Sherlock’s palms met her cheeks softly, forcing her to meet his eyes again before he slowly leaned in. Their lips met and with that single kiss, they’d reconciled.
“So...you aren’t in love with her?” Y/n asked after they’d pulled away.
Sherlock let out a hearty chuckle as he shook his head. “No, Y/n, you just simply had a lack of proper facts.” Y/n began to giggle along.
“Perhaps I should leave the detective-ing to you and Enola.”
“Who’s to say our children won’t become detectives? They could use some of your acting as well.”
“So they could.”
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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years
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𝑴𝒂𝒇𝒊𝒂! 𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛: 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑶𝒖𝒕 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝑯𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝑨 𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚
Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, justifying, encouraging nor promoting mafia behavior or lifestyle. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.
❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰
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Hongjoong was confused when the strange parcel was sent to him. The big, bold 'SKZ' was a clue it was from his rivals. He carefully opened the package, making sure it didn't contain any weird substance. He was shocked when he opened it to find a note that read:
"Give us what we want or we'll harm those you love most."
He widened his eyes when they sent photos of you, obviously taken without your knowledge of your daily life. This was the exact reason Hongjoong broke up with you. It was too dangerous to be with him, so he thought if he left you, you'd be safe, even if it broke his heart to leave you.
But then he saw a few photos that sent a shock through his body. He scanned them closely, making sure his eyes weren't deceiving him. He saw pictures of you..... with a baby.
Hongjoong nearly fell out of his seat.
"Does this mean....?"
Hongjoong quickly got in his car and drove over to your place. He desperately knocked on your door, hoping you'd answer. When you opened the door, you were surprised to see him there and were about to ask what he was doing there, but he spoke up first.
"Do we have a child together?"
Your facial expression was a dead giveaway from the start, confirmed also when you nodded slightly. Looking down, you were afraid that he'd be mad, but instead, Hongjoong pulled you into a hug. Tilting his head, he whispered in your ear:
"I don't want to alarm you, but I'm going to have to relocate you both for your safety. I'll make sure nothing happens to you both. But you gotta come with me now."
You didn't even hesitate to do as he asked, grabbing just a small backpack to pack the important things you needed and to grab your son, who had just woken up from his nap. Hongjoong waited in the living room, anxiously waiting for you to come out. His heart started pounding hard when he heard a small whimper from behind. Turning around, he finally came face to face with his very own child. He smiled tenderly as he came closer to look at him.
"Can I...hold him?"
Hongjoong looked at you for permission, which you happily granted. He choked back tears as he held his son in his hands, unable to believe that this was real.
"Hey little one. I'm your daddy. Nice to finally meet you."
❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪
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Seonghwa completely forgot about what his task in the little town was the second he saw you. At first he couldn't believe that after months of not knowing about your whereabouts, now he's finally found you. He wanted to break down then and there. He had been so lost after he came home only to find you gone without so much as a goodbye. He spent restless nights and chaotic days trying to find a sign of you, but got nowhere. He didn't even know if you were alive.
Before you could get in your car, he approached you.
"Y/N..."
You dropped your keys when you saw him. You tried reaching down for them, but you were too slow and Seonghwa grabbed them, hindering your plans of escaping once again. He was not going to let you go before he got an explanation.
"Why?"
That was all he asked and you knew what he meant.
"I was afraid....."
He looked stunned.
"Of what?! I told you I would protect you! I would never let anything happen to you! If you had asked me to quit, I would do it in a heartbeat for you!" He didn't mean to get so emotional, but he couldn't contain his emotions that had been bottled up for so long.
"No Seonghwa....I was afraid that you would leave me..."
You sighed as you slowly closed the car door that had been covering you the entire time. Seonghwa trailed his eyes down until they landed on your swollen belly. It didn't take long for him to figure out that you were pregnant and he was the father. He looked back up at you, who had tears in your eyes.
"I was afraid you wouldn't want the baby, afraid you'd leave me if you found out...so I left before you could ever find out-"
You couldn't finish your sentence as you began sobbing. Seonghwa stepped closer to you, pulling you into an embrace, one of his hands resting on top of your bump.
"Y/N, I love you and I would have never left you. I love kids and to find out you're carrying my baby, I......I can't even explain how I feel."
He couldn't help himself and pulled back so he could kiss you. His kiss was filled with yearning and when he pulled back, his eyes were brimming with tears.
"Please come back to me..."
❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸
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Once Yunho found out that you were kidnapped, he gathered all his men to get you out. He did not care about the fact you broke up with him, he still loved you and could not bear the thought of you getting hurt.
It was a bloody and difficult situation, but he was determined to get you out of there. He finally found you, unconscious and locked inside a cold room. Picking you up, he quickly got you out of there and rushed you over to Yeosang's laboratory, which also served as the clinic for them in case of an emergency....and clearly this was an emergency.
Yunho waited outside, desperately praying and hoping you would be ok. It seemed like forever before Yeosang finally came out.
"How is she?" Yunho immediately asked.
Yeosang sighed as he removed his glasses.
"She'll be fine, only unconscious for a few hours, but she'll pull through. She's a strong girl."
Yunho smiled and tightly hugged his friend.
"Thank you Yeosang."
When he pulled away, he noticed that Yeosang had a grim look on his face.
"Yeosang....is there something wrong?"
Yeosang hesitated before telling Yunho what he had discovered as he was checking on Y/N and running tests on her.
"Yunho....there's something you should know.."
Yunho widened his eyes as Yeosang revealed something he was not prepared for. He looked at him incredulous.
"Are- are you sure?" Yunho asked again.
"Positive. I'd say she's around 4 to 5 months in."
It all made sense to Yunho now. It had been 4 months since you left him and he had most definitely been intimate with you the month before you left. Although he was shocked, he was also happy. Happy to know that you didn't leave him because you didn't love him anymore, and ecstatic to find out he was going to be a dad.
When you finally woke up, Yunho's smile was the first thing you saw.
"Yunho..?"
"Shhh. It's ok. I'm here and you're all right.."
He kissed your forehead as one of his hands went to hold yours.
"And our baby is going to be fine."
❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰
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"Yeosang?" San called out to him once again after he didn't answer the first 3 times.
"Go away. I'm busy." Yeosang sternly said, refusing to even spare a glance at his friend.
He had been like that for a while. Ever since you left him 2 months ago, he had been locking himself up in his laboratory, refusing to come out, hardly eating or sleeping. He just immersed himself in his work to the point all the other members were starting to get worried about him. San knew it was a distraction, distraction from you and from the pain of your abandonment. Which is why he had gone out of his way to stalk you out and find out exactly why you left all of a sudden. And what he found out, he knew Yeosang needed to know.
"Yeosang...I've been following Y/N for an entire week-"
"I didn't fucking ask you to do that." Yeosang harshly spatted out.
"Yes.....but there's something you should know....the other day I saw her walking out of an obstetrician's clinic.."
Yeosang dropped the glass vial he was holding onto the floor, liquids splashing all over. Panic was written all over his face, which then quickly became rage.
"Fucking knew it. There was somebody else."
San was in disbelief at Yeosang's words.
"What? Yeosang! Are you even listening to me?"
Yeosang grunted as he began cleaning up his mess, not wanting to listen to anymore. But San wasn't giving up. Crouching down, he ripped away the rag in Yeosang's hand and made him look at him.
"Yeosang did it maybe cross your mind that the baby she's pregnant with might be yours?"
Yeosang stayed quiet, not even blinking as he thought over San's words.
"Could be mine......and also could be someone else's.."
San nearly punched Yeosang right then and there.
"You know, I didn't know Y/N half as much as you did, but if there's one thing I knew and never doubted was her love for you. So really ask yourself if you truly believe she'd be unfaithful to you."
Yeosang pondered over San's words for the entire night, tossing and turning as he began reminiscing about your time together. Unable to bear it any longer, he quickly went to your place, not caring that it was early dawn. When you saw him, you freaked out and were about to close the door, but he pushed himself in. Even though he already knew the answer all along, he wanted you to say it.
"Am I the father?"
❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷
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You let out a tiny giggle as your daughter played with the rattle in her hand. You had decided that since the day was lovely and the weather not too hot, you'd take her out for a stroll in the park. She was already a little over a year old and of course hated being inside for too long. You were so occupied in her cute little antics, you failed to notice the man that was walking towards you until he was right in front of you.
"San..." You cupped a hand over your mouth when you saw him for the first time in forever.
"Hey Y/N." He awkwardly greeted you.
"I thought you..." You couldn't finish your sentence, but San knew what you were talking about.
"You thought I was dead?"
He of course expected that reaction out of you. The last time you saw him was when he had to go out on a dangerous mission. He kissed you and promised you he'd come back, but you didn't hear from him again. When months turned to a year and still no word, you gave up hope and resigned yourself to move on and continue with your life.
Little did you know, that he was alive. He was in a coma for a long time, but he regained consciousness. It took a while for him to function and recuperate, but once he did, the first thing he wanted to do was see you again, hold you again and keep his promise of coming back.
"I told you I'd come back..."
He stepped closer to you. You hesitantly reached out to touch him, afraid of it being another one of your dreams and have him disappear once again. Sensing your worry, San took your hand and placed it on his cheek.
"And I never break a promise."
Unable to hold back, you wrapped your arms around his neck, tears spilling out as you were reunited with the love of your life. San was crying as well. The tiny babbling of the baby in the stroller reminded you that you two weren't alone. San pulled back and gazed upon the little girl in the stroller, who looked at him with curiosity. As San studied her features, he realized how much she resembled him.
"Is she....?"
He looked at you, who were donning a proud smile.
"She's our daughter San."
San cried more as he looked at the baby again, unable to resist himself as he picked her up and kissed her tiny face.
"Oh my God! have a beautiful daughter!"
❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲
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Mingi carefully opened the door, hoping not to wake you up since it was so late, but unbeknownst to him, you were already awake.
"Mingi!"
You jumped out of the bed and went to go hug your loving boyfriend.
"Wow! Somebody missed me." He chuckled in between kisses.
"Well of course I did. I just needed you back here......I was afraid the entire time you were gone."
Your tiny pout made his heart melt. Mingi had always been a sucker for your cute and adorable nature.
"Baby it's all right. I told you I'm bulletproof. Nothing will ever happen to me." He assured you.
"I know...I was just particularly scared this time..." You bit your lip.
Mingi could sense something was wrong with you. His hands that were still wrapped around your waist felt the tiny tremble that coursed through your body.
"Baby...you're trembling. What's the matter? Is something wrong?"
You weren't sure if you should tell him at that moment since he was probably tired from his long trip and it was late, but you were so overwhelmed and excited to share the news with him that you couldn't help yourself.
"You know how I've told you that I hadn't been feeling well lately?"
Mingi nodded, recalling your phone conversations.
"Well I decided to take your advice and went to see a doctor..."
He couldn't handle the suspense. For a moment he believed something was wrong.
"Oh baby please tell me you're not dying!"
You bursted out laughing.
"No Mingi! I'm not dying. It's nothing bad...it's actually something wonderful."
Taking his hands in your own, you stared at him, wide smile as you delivered the news.
"Mingi, I'm pregnant."
He sucked in a sharp breath at your words, feeling so many emotions at once.
"Are you serious?- Y/N, don't play with me. My heart wouldn't take it if it was a joke.."
When you confirmed it was true, Mingi lit up and picked you up, peppering kisses all over your face.
"You just made me the happiest man alive."
❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰
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It was a devastating night for you. You had gone out to buy a cake to celebrate and share the good news with Wooyoung: you were pregnant. But on your way back home, you heard weird noises coming from an alley. Keeping out of sight, you were shocked to see the man you loved pull out a gun and shoot someone dead.
You ran back home, trying to process everything you saw. Your first instinct was to run and that's what you did. You only took your wallet and a few things and just ran out of the apartment you shared with Wooyoung. You completely forgot about the fact you left the pregnancy test wrapped in a cute little bow for Wooyoung to see as soon as he came home.
When he did, he was alarmed that you were gone, thinking someone had kidnapped you. But then Yeosang called him.
"She knows. And she's gone."
Wooyoung didn't blame you. He was afraid of you finding out who he was because he knew how'd you react. Instead of going after you, he decided to give you the space you needed, knowing you wouldn't want him around yet. He secretly had people watch over you for him, so he could keep an eye on you and the baby.
He only went back to see you when you suddenly went into labor 8 months into the pregnancy, thus resulting in an emergency c-section. He knew he needed to be there for you and for your child, even if you didn't want him there.
"What are you doing here?" You asked, afraid when you saw him in your hospital room.
"Isn't it obvious? I'm here to take care of you and our baby."
You widened your eyes at that, but refused to show your fear.
"I don't need your help. I'll raise him on my own."
Wooyoung raised an eyebrow at you.
"You don't get to make that decision by yourself. He's my son too and you're in no condition to protest. Once you're both released, you're moving back in with me." He stated firmly.
"I don't want to! I don't want to be around you! You're dangerous-"
"Y/N it'll only be more dangerous for you both if I don't keep you by my side. I don't want rivals getting close to you or the baby. So whether you like it or not, I'm staying by your side."
Wooyoung's resolution only deepened when he went to go see his son in the NICU. He smiled fondly as his finger touched the glass separating them.
"Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to you or your mom. I love you both too much."
❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸
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"Sir? I have something important to share with you?"
Jongho gestured for the man to come in. The man held a folder out to him.
"I'm sorry it has taken so long, but I finally got the information you wanted. Address, phone number, everything is in there."
Jongho's heart stopped for a moment. Finally, he'd be able to find out where you were after searching for so long. He shakily opened the folder and took a deep breath when he saw a most recent picture of you. You looked fine and healthy, looking like you put on a little bit of weight. His fingers gently caressed the picture, wishing it was really you in front of him.
"There's also something else I found out..."
You came home from another long day at work. You rubbed your eyes as you made your way into your bedroom. When you turned on the light, you gasped when you saw Jongho sitting on your bed.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
The color drained from your face as you realized he knew. You tried so hard to conceal your secret, but Jongho still ended up finding out.
"I- I don't know what you're talking about-"
"Don't play dumb Y/N! You know exactly what I'm talking about!" His voice resonated through the room, hurt and pain could be heard in it.
You looked down at the floor in shame, your hand instinctively resting on top of your baby bump. You sniffled softly as you tried to hold back tears. You didn't notice Jongho had gotten up until he was standing right in front of you.
"Why couldn't you just tell me? Do you not know how torturous it was not knowing your whereabouts? Not knowing if you were even alive?"
You knew he was crying as well and it made you feel more guilty about running away and hiding the fact he was going to be a father.
"Do you hate me?"
Jongho sighed, his arms wrapping around you, one hand tilting your chin up.
"Of course not. I could never hate you. I love you so much my darling."
He pecked your lips before placing a hand protectively on top of your bump.
"And I already love our child."
Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.
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eremiie · 3 years
Note
Hello there I really like your writing and I was maybe wondering I can get some angst of a cheating eren who break his s/o heart
yes you can!! i shed a few tears writing this bc i was listening to sad music & thinking, but i hope you enjoy, i am not the best at writing angst😪!
cheers to you - eren x reader
in which eren breaks your heart and you have no choice but to move on.
tw; crying, heartbreak ig idk
2.5k words | angst | modern au
"okay."
you pushed at sasha's phone, you didn't want to see anymore. you were trying to suppress your tears, refusing to cry in front of your two friends.
sasha took one more look at the photos before swiping out of her camera roll, looking back up at you with a frown, hitch likewise. "_____, are you okay?"
and you hated when people asked you that. you thought you were doing fine, you thought you could keep everything down but you simply thought wrong. you croaked out the smallest sound, but before you could even get a word out the tears began to spill, your eyes becoming bleary with the suffocating liquid and the suffocating feeling surrounding your heart. you felt so dumb.
hitch rushed to your side pulling you into a hug until your head fell against her shoulder, body going limp besides the soft heaves that would leave your shuddering body. the pictures of eren were embedded in your head, replaying in your mind, constantly on repeat and you wished to think of anything else that wasn't clawing at your heart like the photos lingering in your subconscious. it was all you could see, almost like a photo album; eren's hands sat on some random girls waist while she straddled him, his jaw slacked open as she ground against him, whoever taking the photo catching her mid grind. his eyes were half lidded if you remembered correctly, reddening, he must've been high.
you couldn't tell if that fact alone hurt you less or more.
your mind swiped, another photo with the same blond haired girl, this time her hands cupping his face and his hands gripping her ass while they engaged in a kiss that you wished was chaste. you were repulsed that your lips had met his in almost the same manner before he left for that party the same night. more sobs left your poor quivering lips, hitch's grip around you tightening as she tried to shush your sobs and cries.
sasha's hands ran over her face as she shook her head clear disappointment evident as she watched you and hitch.
"what did i do wrong?" you gasped for air finally pulling away from hitch, the only body part connecting with hers be your hands that she clasped so delicately as if, if she squeezed too tight you would break. "my heart hurts, it hurts, it hurts," you babbled as tears fell from the bottom of your chin and the bridge of your nose, your eyes were puffy and swollen. "this hurts so bad," you conveyed your emotions through words another gasp leaving your lips.
"you did nothing wrong," hitch reassured rubbing her thumbs against the surface of your hands. "he's just an idiot."
"it's gonna hurt, and that's okay," sasha scooted forward from her position on the floor laying her head in your lap and you knew she was right but god, you didn't want it to hurt. you wanted the pounding in your head to stop, the recurring thoughts to stop, the salty tears streaming down your cheeks to stop, i mean you wanted someone to tell you exactly where you messed up so you could go back and try again.
"do you want us to stay with you tonight?"
you looked down at the side of sasha's face, one of your hands letting go of hitch to comb through brunette hair, and the lazy bun in the back of her head seemed all too familiar already, the way a couple of flyaways framed the front of her face had you covering your mouth, repressing a gag with your palm, sasha whipping her head around to confront the source of the sound, worry on her face, but you squeezed your eyes shut, even the furrow in her brow reminding you all too much of the boy.
"______?" hitch's arms were back around you but you quickly pushed them off feeling the rising feeling of your breakfast you had not too long ago, rushing to the trash can in the corner of your dorm letting your remnants spill from your stomach. the feeling of throwing up felt so foreign to you, you couldn't even remember the last time you did it, and to some degree you wished your heart came up with it.
hitch's mouth parted in the slightest not even sure what to say but the anger behind her eyes was apparent. "baby, i'm so sorry." was all she could say in response while your body crouched beside the trash can, your hands slipping from the rim until they were palm first on the floor, slowing turning into fists.
"i wanna be alone for a couple hours." you managed to utter with a sniff.
"you sure?" sasha asked, standing up awkwardly with hitch reciprocating. you nodded your head and it felt like everything was going in snapshots, them walking to the door, the door opening and their bodies disappearing, your figure laying back in your bed and then the next snapshot didn't come, sleep had came so quick you didn't even have time to process it.
❈ ❈ ❈
your eyes fluttered slightly and you relished in the heat over you for a minute. your mind felt like a clean slate for the time being, as your eyes opened to the bed next to you, sasha's figure vacant from her bed. you remembered asking for some space before you left but you thought she'd had return by now. it was dark, but it couldn't have been too late as orange rays from the sun were attempting to shine through your curtains, making you assume that it was just around seven, the sun setting soon. but you craved the warmness that was around you a little more, pulling down to reach for your blanket, until your body froze.
the hand wrapped around your waist, much like in the photographs engraved in your brain twitched and that same sickness felt like it was resurfacing yet you dared to move, tears brimming again subconsciously.
"eren," you mumbled under your breath.
"hm?" oh, so he was awake.
your face scrunched up in agony at the sound of his voice, your eyebrows coming together, your eyes shutting and you biting your lip so hard the taste of blood collected on your tongue. "please," your breathing began to thicken again, you wanted to move his arm but your body was almost stuck in place. "move."
eren groaned against your back, nose nuzzling into the back of your neck and you mentally cringed. "get out," you said abruptly, body jolting at the sudden movement and you felt him still behind you. how did he even get in? and then you immediately regretted making an spare dorm key and giving it to him only a couple months into your relationship. "get out, get out." you finally regained some self control, your body slithering from under his until your arm touched the floor and you crawled away from your own bed. "go, what are you doing?" you lashed, his gingerly stare making you aware of the tears cascading down your face again.
eren stared back at you finally lifting his head up from the spare pillow that he always slept with when he spent nights with you, the pillow that stayed tucked away on your bed and the same pillow that you'd have to wash and get rid of that stupid recognizable cologne he wore, the same cologne that would linger on most of his clothing that you owned. "_____,"
"no, leave, please leave, i can't do this."
eren seemed genuinely confused, sitting up completely now and scooting forward until his legs dangled off the bed. "baby, what's-"
you winced at the nickname and clutched at your stomach, feeling the emptiness inside from the lack of food, yet you still felt the urge to dispel anything inside of it still. "please leave." you almost felt lightheaded, you felt as if you weren't being heard and you were sick.
the significant sound of the dorm keycard slot beeping until sasha's figure came back in, "_____, i left the key hear but luckily i had a keyca-" her voice slowly died down as she studied the scene of the dorm, your body on the floor away from your bed and eren's figure sat on the same bed, both pair of eyes now looking up at her."
"what the hell?" sasha stormed over to eren grabbing his arm in a feeble attempt to pull him off of your bed. although she wasn't strong enough eren did stand up, mainly because of your pleas for him to get out just earlier. "get out! she doesn't want you here, weirdo!" sasha exclaimed pointing towards the door clear anger flashing in her eyes. "and don't just come in here uninvited again!"
those green eyes that would unknowingly keep you up for nights after today kept that confused gaze on you as he walked around you and made you feel stupid and small. we're you overreacting? were those pictures just your imagination?
"_____..." eren mumbled before looking at your frame on the floor once more.
“get out!” sasha exclaimed.
you weren't sure if he was just that dense or he was hiding the fact that he knew exactly what he did. the door shut and you immediately began crying again, this time harder. wails of pain escaping your throat. your cries were loud and full of pain. you clutched at your shirt as if to grasp at your broken heart.
"oh my gosh." sasha dropped her keycard and bag onto your bed where she still stood and got on the floor with you pulling you as much into her lap as possible. you felt fragile in your hands, her gripping at the sweatshirt around your body. she listened to your cries, responding with "i knows," and "mhm," as if they were telling her a story, simply listening to the aching noises that were leaving you.
"sasha," you finally mustered the courage to speak a few words again, although they resembled your words from yesterday. "i'm hurting."
"i know, i know."
"i loved him." you blinked so you could see a little clearer, lifting your head to look at sasha, bringing your hands to either side of her head, your thumbs stroking her jaw. "i thought he loved me? why? why?"
sasha couldn't bare to look at your sad, damaged eyes and instead pulled you back against her chest. although your sobs died down she could feel the convulsing of your body and opted to hold you for as long as you needed.
“does he even know what he did? does he even know how much pain i’m in right now?”
sasha couldn’t even answer that question. by the looks of it he didn’t, maybe he was high? under the influence? but either way you didn’t have the courage to confront him about it.
instead you spent the next couple of weeks sulking, mending to your broken heart and staying out of eren’s way, no matter how many times he tried to communicate with you. it seemed as if word got to him on what he did, sasha getting connie to talk to him, and as angry as eren got there was no denying what he did, especially with photo evidence.
your phone blew up with his own pleas begging for forgiveness, begging for you to talk to him, to come back, to do something.
but you were fragile, and you knew that even being in his vicinity would tear you apart bit by bit. you didn’t want to weep in front of him, you didn’t want to be in front of him in the first place, nor did you want his pity.
did you want to get back with him? the question still pondered on your mind constantly but both sasha and hitch refused to let you, and they were perfectly fine with the situation going unresolved if it meant better for you.
"so?" hitch pointed the straw of her frappucino at you. "i really think you just need to try exploring your options, just living a little. you can go to the next party with sasha and i, i promise we won't mind."
“hitch i want her to go to a party too but i don’t know about her getting with anyone.” sasha swirled the stick inside her latte to mix it up before sucking the liquid off the end.
now it had been a few months since you had seen eren, a few months since you began to heal yourself slowly compared to those first couple weeks. you had to really thank hitch and sasha for being there most of the way for you, and you had to especially thank netflix and sleep for being two of your greatest distractions.
you never officially broke up with eren, sure you saw him in the hallways (and you were certain he saw you as well) you had a couple lectures with him where the two of you would sneak glances at each other; which kind of reminded you of when the two of you first began liking the other. he never made an effort to speak to you after the first couple weeks when he would text your phone constantly, as much as it seemed like he wanted to still.
"i don't know hitch. i haven't even got rid of his stuff yet. they're still sitting in that stupid box in the corner of me and sasha's dorm." sasha nodded in confirmation taking a bite of her biscuit.
"but i don't think that box should stop you from getting out the house again. you haven't really been anywhere besides maybe target with sasha. plus i miss seeing you!"
you rolled your eyes with a slight chuckle. "you see me at least three times, especially when... you know, you came like everyday at first."
hitch shrugged her shoulders and then took another sip of her drink. "but do you think i can start seeing you more is the question? c'mon this is the first step towards a new life without that bastard."
you pondered on the thought before a small sigh escaped your lips, and you slowly nodded your head.
"really?" hitch exclaimed, her hands reaching across the table to grab yours. "you mean you won't mind coming to the party this saturday?"
you narrowed your eyes at hitch. "this was your plan wasn't it?"
"yes, yes it was. but there's no backing out now."
"yes, hitch, i'll come to the party this saturday." you decided that maybe this would help your healing heart in the least and you would try to push aside the boy that broke it for the couple hours just to spend time with your friends. but you couldn't help and wonder, "what if i bump into him at the party? or he tries to talk to me?"
sasha looked at hitch and hitch looked back before both turning their eyes to you. "we can be with you the whole time if that's the case."
"i wouldn't want to ruin your fun."
"babe, hanging out with you is one of the points of bringing you, ____." sasha smiled.
you internally twitched at the mention of the nickname ‘babe’ but neither one of your friends seemed to tell. you were getting better with reacting to things that reminded you of him, and you didn’t hysterically start crying at the slightest mention or object that related to him.
"we got you, okay?"
you frowned slightly but gave sasha a smile back and squeezed hitch's hand in the slightest. "yeah, okay."
this was the beginning of a new life for you, you wouldn’t spend your days sulking after him anymore. cheers to you and your first big step forward.
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