#I’m going to be left inconsolable for weeks | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

toovaeloe · 9 months ago

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bus stop 𝝑𝝔 “If I was your boyfriend, you sure as hell wouldn’t be waiting at a bus stop.”

suguru geto x genderneutral reader

no curse au

You’ve used the “I have a boyfriend” excuse and you may have just manifested one. Or a gorgeous man, at the very least

☁️🚏☁️

This was the worst, you think. Had to be punishment for something you did in a past life.

For starters, you were late for work. Was it your fault for staying up so late, giggling and doom-scrolling through mounds of mind numbing media? Yeah, maybe…

Let’s blame it on the weather. Your alarm didn’t wake you up after you silenced it. The neighbor’s dog wouldn’t stop barking through the night. But it’s not like you could tell your boss any off that.

So that’s why you raced out the door, haphazardly juggling your belongings in your arms. Wallet. Keys. Phone. Something else you couldn’t quite remember at the moment. Did you have everything? Probably; no time to check now. Only to find when you stomped on the brake and turned the key in the ignition…your car wouldn’t start.

Sputter…sputter…and then nothing.

Great.

There’s your late-to-work-excuse.

Maybe you shouldn’t have ignored the “maintenance needed” symbols that have been lighting up your dash like they want their own holiday. To be fair, time and money just weren’t things that came in abundance.

In any case, as you were sitting in that local garage enduring the mechanic babbling on about vehicle expertise junk you just couldn’t begin to understand, zoning out and nodding every few minutes with a halfhearted “hmm,” so it at least looked like you were absorbing information…you made note to at least revisit the idea of changing your smoke alarm’s batteries before it decided to turn on you, too.

But that was last week.

7-9 business days.

That’s how long until your car would be up and running again. Apparently, according to the mechanic, you were lucky it was even that. Apparently. Which meant you needed some other means of transportation to and from work and such.

Lucky you had the local bus service, right?

WRONG.

They were always late, but you still felt the need to get to the stops on time, lest you have a repeat of 5 days ago. (You showed up only 2 minutes late and were left behind at the store. Had to wait for an hour for your friend to get off her shift and come pick you up.) You highly doubted it, but what with the way the world was shitting on you right now, it wasn’t out of the question. And the city’s money obviously wasn’t going towards public transportation— they could qualify as garbage trucks if they really needed them with how trashed they were. Mystery sticky patches on the seat, gum underneath. The inconsolable children whining their heads off. That was kind of cute at first, but now it made you want to throw yourself out the window. The whole thing was just the experience that you could expect from a free public transportation system.

And why was it so rainy this month??? Ugh.

But what could you do but make do with what you had? Complaining definitely wasn’t making your shoes any less waterlogged. Be grateful, or some shit like that.

That evening, however, as you were waiting twenty minutes past the time the bus was supposed to arrive at the stop after an exhausting work day…you were just so fed up with everything. With the puddle water soaking through your shoes, with the way you had to stand because the benches were damp…with this rando-guy who had walked up next to you that you were half sure kept looking at you. To say the least, it only served to annoy you in your already sour mood.

You were willing to just ignore it. Until he stepped closer.

“Hey I’m uh…I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you around.”

Oooohh boy.

“Yeah, yeah, it is you. I’ been taking the bus sometimes. Usually I’m riding my motorcycle but uh, not today.”

Did you ask?

“Thought I’d drop by.”

The public bus stop. (???)

“What’s yer name, toots?”

Yeah no. Go back to the 1950’s and maybe that’d work there. You’d rather lick the mystery sticky shit off the bus seat. You could pick up a date 10x better without opposable thumbs.

All of the above is what you would’ve liked to say. Alas, you were tired. You didn’t want trouble that would take more energy than it was worth. So before he could go any further, you just coined the foolproof line.

“I have a boyfriend.”

Lie. You didn’t, but it was the first thing that came to mind. And if that didn’t make him lose interest, then he must really be a pathetic asswipe.

Sadly, he was. In terms of getting the hint to shut up, the guy looked barely deterred; offended even, as he prattled on.

“Well why were you acting so into me then, huh?” You definitely didn’t. You don’t even know this dude.

“I wasn’t even going for you.” He definitely was.

“You’re—“ X, Y, and Z. Just because his game is trifling?? You felt a headache coming on. And maybe a bout of anxiety. People are crazy, and the last thing you wanted was for this needless situation to escalate into something dangerous.

The entire mess was occurring just as Suguru was making the commute to work on the same street. But he found himself slowing nearly to a stop when he caught sight of you.

How could a person look so exhausted; hair extra frizzy, floccose from the humid rain, clothes soaked, droplets of the downpour dribbling onto your cheeks and blinked away from your lashes…and still so breathtaking? Or perhaps that was part of your beauty in this moment. You looked every bit done with the day, but who knew when- if— he’d ever see you again? He’d be stupid, a fool to not at least try to strike up a conversation with you. He’d be…

…Probably like that idiot.

A sulky moue twisted at his expression as he witnessed the disgraceful way this loser was fumbling. Oh dear. His approach lacked so much grace, so much respect…it was really just distasteful. You didn’t deserve that. And frankly, he didn’t think he deserved to watch you be treated like that when he knew he could do so much better.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!”

A merry sounding tone directed your way had your head sharply whipping to the source. A tall dark haired man you’ve never seen before; layered in a gray colored quarter zip and dark slacks, you think. His approach was casual and relaxed, a subtly jovial yet inherently guileful grin tugging at his lips. He even waved to you like an old friend. His entire facade was so convincing you considered for a moment if you had known him from somewhere and simply forgotten.

No, you really wouldn’t have forgotten a face like that. Eyes like those. A presence so contrasting of itself and yet so cohesive in its own way, if you had to try and describe it. Just a damn beautiful man. With eyebrows that were beginning to crease on his forehead.

Ooh, you were staring.

More than that, he was giving you a pointed look that you didn’t notice while drooling over the poor guy. Unfortunately for you, slo-mo’s only happened in movies, and in reality you just looked like an ogling dork. But you didn’t have time to dwell on your embarrassment when he was quite obviously urging you to play along with this illusion he was creating.

And so you did.

“Oh- hi! No worries,” You insisted in an awkward attempt to adapt to this new charade.

“‘Hasn’t been that long,” though your reaction to his presence wasn’t as well-articulated, it was convincing enough.

The other dude looked to be at least somewhat suspicious, and might’ve spoken on it if wasn’t for Geto’s scrutinizing gaze and a simple raise of his brow.

“Can I help you?” And just for good measure, he’d wrap his arm around you, sliding his hand into your coat pocket as if he’s done it a million times before to pull you closer against him. Whatever glare this ravenette man was glowering down the length of his nose at this guy with must’ve been scarring, because he murmured some half-assed excuse before scampering away.

You idly wondered how’d he get wherever he was going without the bus.

Or maybe you’d have more time to think about it if your brain wasn’t short-circuiting, acutely aware of the unworldly attractive man’s hand resting just over your hip.

“Sorry,” Geto spoke after a few beats, languidly retracting his arm from your coat and back to his side. “You looked like you were about to burst a blood vessel entertaining him. I hope I didn’t overstep. Y’know, with your boyfriend and all.” He had to have overheard you earlier.

But the way he spoke made it sound as if he doubted that fact, glancing to either side of you as if to say That is nowhere in sight..? without being so overtly rude. Or maybe he just wasn’t all that apologetic.

“That-! Yeah,” You pepped with a nervous pitter of laughter, “yeah…it’s not a problem, thanks.”

Your hand gravitated to the zipper of your jacket, absentmindedly fiddling with it as you frantically thought up an at least half decent explanation. One that wouldn’t make you sound more clumsy than you already felt.

“He’s not real, so he won’t mind.”

Yeah, real smooth. What was that you said; about being able to pick up a date without opposable thumbs? You’d need at least ten pairs of hands.

But Suguru didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his grin widened into something toothy and almost boyish, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that added an innocent charm to his otherwise elegant features. He found it endearing.

“Perfect,” His response was coupled with a discreet chuckle.

“Don’t feel obligated,” He’d continue as he reached to the side of you. So close to brushing your shoulder, it made your breath hitch. Though truly he was reaching around you, sharply tearing a flier from the side of the bus stop and pulling a pen from one of his pockets. If you were paying more attention you’d have noticed the glint of impish amusement in his umber eyes that led one to believe that action was more deliberate than he let on.

Still, he’d make quick work of jotting down a phone number and the address of a nice restaurant he’s been meaning to try with Satoru— but plans change. “but I’d like to take you out. I was on my way over to ask you, anyhow.”

He offered the page to you; his handwriting as sumptuous and calligraphic as you would’ve expected his penmanship to be; in the margins of some tacky ad for a lawn mowing service. As you went to accept the paper, however, he rescinded it from reach. All whilst drawing closer so that his piercing dark amber eyes held your gaze with an unwavering intensity. The kind that made your stomach do flips and stole your breath away.

“And for the record,” He spoke quietly but poised; a conspiratorial whisper for only you, him, and the rain to witness. “if I was your boyfriend, you sure as hell wouldn’t be waiting at a bus stop.”

There wasn’t time to react; he was already slipping the page into your pocket, withdrawing to a comfortable proximity all the while waving you off and wishing you well with a kind smile, disappearing someplace else.

You didn’t even catch his name.

At least your bus was here.

a/n: I had something to say but I totally forgot 😭

OH but I did add an upcoming section to my masterlist so you can see my works in the works if you’d like! 🤍 always open to ideas too

Dear god I crave geto with that loose low bun that’s barely a bun kind of hairstyle. Ykwim???

ty for reading 🤍🤍🤍 love you have a lovely lovely day or night

edit: OMG THATS WHAT I WAS GONNA SAY. I kept accidentally writing bust stop instead of bus stop as I wrote this. So, sorry if you bust

☁️☁️☁️

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painted-bees · 6 months ago

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“It isn't for you, it's because of you.

Because of you, I can finally do this for myself.

Because I want to.

Because I trust you with it.

It's all because of you,

and I'm so fucking thankful.”

-- [Jan 28th, 2014] The weather had conspired against him.

Or perhaps it was trying to protect him. Either way, the cold snap that washed over Vancouver on this sunny January afternoon was perfectly timed to ruin the months of careful planning, frivolous spending, and emotional safeguarding Raf had done in preparation for the performance today. It was as though the sky had opened up to release every breath of warm air that the previous weeks of relentless overcast had, until now, valiantly sealed in.

To make matters worse, Raf couldn’t turn to Margie for consolation about it. She didn’t know anything about a performance happening today, and it needed to stay that way until at least 6 pm. Her distractible nature had been a huge blessing for him during the past long months of preparation and rehearsals, and this was the last day he'd have to work behind her back. He was thankful for that. Tess had whisked her out into town this morning under the pretence of finding a suitable birthday present to ‘surprise’ him with. It was an effective ruse to keep Margie busy and secreted away from him while he fulfilled the final preparations for the day’s event.

He was half expecting to arrive at Jack Poole Plaza only to be met by an unfortunate orchestra representative tasked with dispensing the bad news of postponement due to the unusual cold. Instead, the venue was abuzz with activity, warmed by the familiar din of pre-performance energy. Or rather–it was the arrangement of outdoor heaters that kept the temperature surprisingly manageable in key locations across the venue. That was one of the expenditures Raf had considered “a frivolous necessity” when he committed to it, and it was certainly paying dividends today.

“Raf!” The sound of Nels’ voice as he approached was every bit as warm as the heaters. “Boy, you sure picked a day, didn’t you?” As the older man closed the distance, one of his large hands clapped down on Raf’s shoulder with an amicable jostle.

“Well," Raf said, "no one called to postpone.” Genuine disbelief coloured his tone in a manner that wholly undermined his attempt at a half-joke.

Nels barked a laugh, “Bah! Over a little cold? No chance. But snow?” He held up a finger, “One snowflake hits that pavement and the whole city' in shut down” He looked up at the sky, wincing against the sunlight. “Thankfully not a problem today!”

Raf offered a small smirk that bordered on a grimace. “It’s not great for the instruments, though.”

“Cold feet?”

“Cold everything.”

Nels held him with a gentle but uncompromising gaze. “Train’s already moving, kiddo. Can’t stop now.”

Turning his eyes towards the stage with a relenting sigh, Raf began making strides across the vast concrete venue towards it. “Outdoor concert in the middle of winter was a terrible idea. Why didn’t anyone stop me?”

“I recall there was an attempt,” Nels said, “But, ah…You had a clear vision, a convincing argument, and a lot of money.”

“Yeah, I’m also insane. Nels, I hate crowds, I hate public events. Why am I hosting one?”

“You love the audience and,” Nels’ hand found Raf’s shoulder again, halting him before the stairs leading up to the left side of the temporary stage set-up. “You love Margie. That’s the kind of insanity that drove all this. She adores this sort of thing. She’s gonna be beside herself. Inconsolable, even. And you know that. That’s why you’re doing this.”

“Mmh.” That was a swing and a miss, but Raf had no desire to engage in the pedantry dissecting his own mercurial motivations, and so, he was content to leave it there.

Recognizing the full stop in Raf’s voice, Nels clapped his hands together and led the way onto the stage. “Well-! Things here are looking and sounding well on our end. Security’s all set. It’s not going to be a flood of people all at once but, as you can see,” he gestured out towards the plaza, “We’ve already got a population of curious loiterers. We’re wrapping up the last of the sound tests. Speaking of–!”

Nels turned his attention to the microphone set up at the front, centre of the stage. Raf intended to follow, but paused at the sight of Naomi making her way over from the other side. She made he way in brisk strides, holding out her open palms in a gesture both of greeting and surprise.

“Ooh, you showed up!”

Raf regarded her with a lopsided smirk and a curt, upward nod of his chin. “Was I not supposed to?”

She rubbed her hands together and squeezed the fingertips of one hand in the palm of her other. “Dunno, Ephrem. How you feelin' about it?”

“Trying not to,” Raf admitted. “But it’s mostly fine. I’ve got Kill Bill sirens going off in my head a bit. First time I’ve ever managed something like this myself, but I am managing, so–” With a Super Mario-pitched voice, and a weak upward pump of his fist, he concluded, “Wahoo.” An aptly appropriated Margie-ism.

“Man, shut the fuck up. You ain’t managing nothin’ yourself this time, either.” She scoffed loudly. “C’mon I ain’t out here at bitch o’clock in balls degree weather doin’ this shit just so you can tell me you ain’t got no help. Be for real.”

“That’s not what I–”

“I know,” she gave him a playful scowl before throwing her hands up in an exaggerated gesture of arrest, “I’m playin’! Jeez, Eph, control your temper, chill. Damn, why you always gotta be yellin’?”

“Boy, I’m going tah rip your face off.” His stiff posture, quirked eyebrow, and uncharacteristic transatlantic accent delivered his threat with all the seriousness he intended.

“And ruin your manicure? Girl, you’ll cry.”

Their short drama play ended with a defusing snort of laughter shared between the two of them.

Thumbing her nose with a sniff, Naomi attempted some honest reassurance. “I think you did a pretty good job, all things considered. Hired the right folks for certain.” She grinned at the compliment as she paid it to herself.

From their place in the corner of the stage, they both looked out over the set-up and across the venue. The stage itself was populated mostly with venue staff and Hi-Note technicians working in collaboration with each other to make sure things sounded great, looked great, and that no one would kill themselves on any of the countless cables that snaked across the floor.

Beyond the stage, the last of the temporary barriers and crowd management measures were being organised and installed. Raf himself didn’t know what to expect in that regard, and had no option but to trust that the venue staff knew what they were doing. At the very least, a free admission orchestral event wasn’t new to them. One such concert had been hosted here in the summer, and just like that one, this event was advertised months in advance to draw out as large a crowd as possible. But he hadn’t been the one to advertise it. In fact, he had explicitly forbidden any mention of him or of a vocal performance at all. No, this was advertised in a manner similar to the summer’s concert. And indeed, the programme would be much the same–but it would end with his performance.

Even as the staff set about their tasks, a budding population of curious doddlers seemed content to wander and wait around for something exciting to begin. It was a lot to hold in his head, and there were countless variables he had no control over–many of which relied on the cooperation of other people. Complete strangers. An overwhelming number of things could and likely would go wrong, and anything that went right would only do so thanks to luck. At least–that’s what his gut told him.

It would be the first concert he’d perform, without Margie, in almost a decade. It would be the first performance without her that centred him since…

Since Ephrem Records. A chill unrelated to the cold forced him to shudder visibly, and he steadied himself with an automatic, curtly huffed sigh. This was not that. He had stared that beast directly in the eyes, he had walked into its horrifying, revenous maw and–

He came back home. Safe. Sound. Completely unscathed.

It–that–Ephrem Records and the nightmares within it had no control over him anymore. Though it had tried, it couldn’t keep him. That cage door had fallen off its hinges and would no longer close on him. It was a freedom he had had never in his life known before.

Beside him, Naomi had turned her gaze to watch him. “Remember after Lacey ditched? How you said you weren’t never gonna get on stage for anyone anymore?”

“Mmhm.”

“You been cancellin’ shit all the time because you just ain’t gonna perform if you don’t wanna.”

“Mmhm.”

“But you’re here. Today. Like--your birthday’s tomorrow. You didn't wanna take it easy for that?”

Raf turned his head to cast a very slight, wry smile down towards her. “Mmh, nah.”

Her eyes lit up under the validating glow of his expression. “Nooo, see! I was gonna ask who you doin’ this for, really? But that shit eating grin–” a cackle punctuated her sentence. “This ain't for Margie. Is it?”

Naomi’s laugh infected him well enough to let out a small snort of laughter all his own. “She'd hate it if it was. No, I just--wanted to see for myself if...Uh. This wouldn't kill me."

"I've been sayin', too, Margie ain't about seeing you freak out for her!" Naomi clasped her hands together and dipped forward in an elated gesture. "Well, you don't look like you're dying."

"Yeah--I don' think I will. "

–

“Raf’s impossible to shop for. I don’t know what we were expecting to find.” Margie's conclusion arrived at the end of a long day spent following Tess around the whole, wide city in search of a gift for a man who placed very little value on material wealth. “There’s nothing we could buy that he couldn't afford himself. And it’s hard to put proper thought into it when it’s so last minute.” There was tired frustration in her voice.

Savouring a strawberry frappe through a bent straw, Cortes remained wholly unbothered by the state of affairs. With a shrug, her free hand gestured to sign a sloppily composed, “Raf’s birthday gift can be all the friends we met along the way.”

Margie let out one of her conversationally reflexive little giggles. “Yeah, yeah! All none of them.”

The sun had already begun to sink beneath the city skyline, and in its wake the clear sky was turning a shade of deep indigo. An already frigid day was turning into an even colder night. Too cold to be out walking along the seawall. Tess’s choice of a blended iced beverage was nothing short of absurd but, just like the failure of their gift-hunting quest, the freezing cold seemed to have no ill effect on Cortes whatsoever. While Margie’s breath hung like a ghost in the air and caused an uncomfortable moisture to collect on the fraying filaments of her scarf, Tess suffered no such inconvenience. Margie was bundled for warmth, but Tess wore her winter layers only for the aesthetic of it.

Without looking at her, Tess signed with languid gestures, “We should probably head home, now. I’m getting bored.”

Margie might have agreed, but something else tugged her attention. She grabbed Tess's arm to halt her. “Hang on, shh!”

A pause.

A swell of string and brass carried itself on the chill ocean breeze. It wasn’t uncommon to hear music playing from the various shops and storefronts that lined the city streets, especially during the holiday months. But…

“Does that sound live to you?”

Tess appeared to listen for a moment longer before shrugging.

“It’s coming from the plaza.”

Another shrug from Tess preceded an inquiring forefinger flopped with mild indifference towards the stairs leading out of the park, up towards the convention centre.

Margie nodded and shook Tess’s arm in her grip. “Yeah, I just wanna looksee!”

With one last resigned shrug, Cortes allowed Margie to lead the way forward.

As they crested the wide staircase, the plaza greeted them with an array of bright, warm lights and a buzz of activity. Margie immediately b-lined to read one of the standing signs that named the event to her.

“Wait, no! What? This was today?” She turned a baleful gaze up at Tess. “We missed the summer one, so I was gonna tell Raf about this one. But I thought it was like–next month!” She gestured with both arms towards the banner sign. “Free concert! VMO! Tess! I’m so upset!” Dropping her arms to her side, Margie slouched under the weight of her disappointment. “This woulda been a perfect birthday gift for him. Why did I think it was in February?”

Tess’s hand came down gently upon the top of Margie’s head in a placating pat-pat. At the same time, an unfamiliar man’s voice addressed them from the side.

“Excuse me, Ma’am?”

Glancing up, Margie watched the man approach, well dressed for the weather with a bright yellow and black jacket. “Genesis Security” was emblazoned in bold, white letters across the breast and shoulder. He wasn’t addressing her. The man’s gaze was locked firmly onto Tess.

“Ma’am,” he repeated, “I've been instructed to show you to your seat, if you’ll please follow me.”

“Woah...” Margie watched the guy's back as he began to lead the way forward through the plaza. "How does this keep happening to you?" It seemed that no matter where Tess went, there was always something special waiting for her. People treated her like a rock star, honored by her mere presence. Apparently, this was just another such instance.

Shrug. Tess tapped on the shoulder of the security guard and locked eyes with him before pointing to Margie, then to herself, and then back to Margie again.

With a nod, the guard responded, “I don't see why not. But let's hurry. Show's half done by now.”

The guard made haste, Tess kept in stride, and Margie was forced to shuffle quite swiftly in order to keep up. As she did so, her hands fumbled around in her pockets until they found her phone.

“I should call Raf, maybe he can make it in time if he’s still at Hi-Note!” Neither Tess nor the guard in front of her said anything to discourage the thought, and so Margie hit his name in on quick-dial and waited for him to pick up.

Instead, she was immediately met with the robotic voice of his service provider.

With a small groan of disappointment, Margie lowered her phone to send a text message, muttering under her breath, “Why is your phone turned off, you wiener?”

The two of them were led through the well populated venue towards the very frontmost row of seating, where Tess was presented with two vacant seats.

“Oh,” Margie took her seat next to Tess, “Raf wouldn’t have been able to sit with us, anyways.”

Perhaps sensing the tinge of melancholy in her voice, Tess reached over to wrap an arm around Margie’s shoulders and pulled her in close. With a sigh, Margie nestled herself cozily against Tess and made the conscious effort to shift her attitude and appreciate the free show with her ever patient girlfriend. It was thanks to Tess that she got to see this performance at all–and with that thought, Margie was able to replace her disappointment for failing their day’s objective with thankfulness towards the present moment.

The orchestra played an enjoyable, eclectic selection of compositions, most of which Margie couldn’t name. Perhaps the only one she properly recognized was the Star Wars theme, which stood out somewhat comedically against the others–all of which she had assumed to be classical pieces.

The final piece–or rather, what was presented as the final piece–was no doubt Tchaikovsky. She knew Tchaikovsky. Just…not well enough to name his compositions. But this was definitely him! To her ears, everything sounded beautiful. Had Raf been there, he might have identified nuances in the performance, both good and bad, highlighting them to her so that she might be able to notice them, too. There was a shared enjoyment between them for that kind of thing. In contrast, Tess was a remarkably stoic and quiet person to sit with when it came to anything involving live music. Her enormous, dark eyes stared unblinking as she listened; transfixed by the intricate braiding of sounds. Her long, lithe fingers twirled themselves repeatedly into the stray curls of Margie’s hair. It was a tiny, thoughtless, but comfortingly intimate gesture. Despite the best efforts of the late January weather, Magritte felt remarkably warmed.

Tchaikovsky came to an end, and both she and Tess contributed to the roar of applause that persisted even as the musicians stood to leave, abandoning their instruments on the stage.

Keeping with the applause, Margie leaned towards Tess’s ear. “Sit tight, there’s prolly gonna be a–oop, yep!”

Her statement was confirmed before she even had time to finish saying it, as the musicians quickly emerged to retake their seats on the stage. As they did, Margie stopped clapping, waiting to hear if their encore was a song she could identify. As the rest of the applause died down, two additional figures took position onto the stage; a trio of previously absent musicians took positions on the stage. Or, at least–if they had been present previously, they were on entirely different instruments, now. Three electric guitars, one of which was a bass.

Margie squinted at the rightmost guitarist and her bumblebee-yellow Kramer. “Oh, woah–is that Naomi? Tess, you see her!?” She couldn’t help but pick up an applause with an exhilarated whoop at seeing a friendly face among the cast of talented strangers.

It worked to catch Naomi’s attention, and Margie was rewarded with an acknowledging little wave, bright smile, and a thumbs up.

Clasping her hands together, Margie leaned back in her seat with a delighted giggle. “That’s so cool, this is gonna be so good!”

A blanket of quiet settled upon the venue, and after a moment's pause, the orchestra’s instruments sprang to life once more. The number opened with a swelling whirl of notes that immediately swept Margie’s imagination into the realm of Broadway romance. And then–

She heard his voice.

A pleasing falsetto that wove itself beautifully into the airy strings, Margie knew who she was hearing before he had even walked onto the stage. One note was all it took.

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I got inspired to post cringe, I hope you like it lmaooo About a year prior to these events, Margie and Tess had accompanied Raf to a very emotionally turbulent trip to Monaco. It wasn't a vacation, and it wasn't what any of them would describe as particularly enjoyable...Perhaps some day, we'll learn more about what happened there and why he went. One thing that did happen, on a very desperate whim, is that Raf had asked Margie to marry him. No real proposal--something asserted on the spot, motivated more by fear than anything else. Margie said yes, of course--but only on the condition that he ask her again once they were settled back home in Vancouver. She said--promised--she wasn't going to bring it up again unless he brought it up first; that there was no pressure for him to repeat the question once he was feeling comfortable and secure again. It's just--he seemed too emotionally compromised for Margie to really accept the proposal as one that was offered to her with soundness of mind. And so--to ensure that it was something he actually meant--she would forget it was asked at all, until he brought it up again on his own accord upon their return to Canada. No need to any special occasion, now jewelry, none of that--just ask the same way he did in Monaco...but without the undercurrent of panic coloring his judgement. They returned from Monaco safe and sound, and neither Margie nor Raf breathed a word about the Monaco proposal. Margie assumed Raf forgot--or perhaps he had come to his better senses and no longer felt like his well being and safety relied on lawfully locking down their relationship together. As she had expected would be the case. On the other hand, Raf had waited two months to see if Margie would bring it up at all, or if she'd stick to her promise and release him from the obligation of following through. To him, it seemed like she had completely forgotten; ss though he had never asked her to marry him at all. Unbeknownst to her, he hadn't changed his mind. The fact that she wouldn't so much as even allude to it for his sake only imbued further confidence in his decision. She had been with him through hell and high water, she was there in all the ways she promised to be, she gave him the space and the grace he needed, carried him through some of his lowest days, and kept him safe when he was certain no one in the world ever could. She loved him during his worst days, and shouldered his worst behaviors only because she loved being with him. She never asked him for anything spectacular. She never wished to see him spend the limit of his resources on her. She only ever wished to enjoy things with him--and his enjoyment was a critical part of that desire. Over the several years they had been together, one thing became abundantly clear; Margie deserved every good thing he could grant her. Margie could be trusted to receive his best efforts and his greatest gifts without ruin. And for the first time in his life, he wanted to give those to someone--to her. Because it felt right. Because he'd love doing so. Because she fucking deserved it. Performances had become pretty comfortable for Raf by this point. He, Margie, and Tess had been doing them on the semi-regular before certain events dragged him back to Monaco. Even his post performance PTSD episodes--while still present--were far more manageable than they had ever been. He no longer plagued with week-long emotional lows that greatly overshadowed the euphoria of a great performance. Things just felt...more balanced.

Enough so that Raf decided his proposal to Magritte would, itself, be a performance. Planned and organized by him, with the help of Hi-Note. If he could organize an perform a concert as a gift for someone he loved--without succumbing to abject terror and paranoia at any point during the months of preparation--well... That kind of freedom over himself would be the best gift he's ever received. And so--he planned the performance/proposal for his birthday. Margie watched the last half of the orchestra concert with Tess, having no idea that Raf would be the encore act. Tess, of course, had been in on it as a collaborator. She knew the guard would address her for the seating--they had met prior as part of the preparations. She and Raf both knew that Margie wouldn't find anything suspect in the fact that Tess would be spontaneously offered some kind of V.I.P seating. Tess's ridiculous, ambiguous "celebrity status" had basically become a meme between them at this point. It wasn't unusual... It was all planned. And everything played out pretty well according to that plan. Once Raf too the stage, Tess pulled Margie out of her seat and led her to the stage (exchanging a thumbs-up with Nels along the way). Margie followed along in good fun. By this point, she knew shenanigans were afoot--and slipped into her role very agreeably once Nels confirmed that, yes, she's expected on the stage. She was happy to play along.

The dance she and Raf "perform" wasn't any choreographed thing. Rather, it's the same kind of lackadaisical dancing they'd often do in their livingroom at home haha. And then...there was no more performance...just overwhelm and joy and a lot of love...and Kirby rings lmaooo which made her even MORE overwhelmed. And then the rest of the night was just one big overjoyed, emotional blur. Okay, I've typed too much...this is all very silly, but I made it so you can have the whole bunch of it! Bonus: The next morning, they woke up with a terrible cold...and spent the entire day recovering in bed lmao

(happy birthday, Raf lmao).

#Hi-Note #Rafael #Magritte #Tess #I'M CRINGE BUT I AM SO FREEEE #Youtube

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daylite-writes · 1 year ago

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Fragile Things - Yandere!Childe x Reader

At least he’s regretful when a punishment goes too far…

cws: kidnapping, isolation related punishments, yandere, self harm, softer yandere, heavier content.

1k words

~~~

“Baby, hey, look—look at me.” He was speaking firmly, his hands on your wrists, restraining you. Keeping you from clawing your skin any more than you already had.

You were absolutely inconsolable, babbling words even you couldn’t discern, sobbing, shaking. “No—no I-I—Ajax. A-Ajax.”

“That’s right. That’s right. Eyes on me. Oh baby. Too harsh? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rough—”

You only broke down further, each hiccuping sob dragging you deeper as you tried to curl in on yourself.

Ajax hadn’t just kidnapped you. He’d been extremely thorough in breaking you. So thorough, a more logical you would have realized he underestimated how much you could take.

You’d been isolated, for the most part. Trying to escape the cabin in the snowy wilderness was not a good idea. Partially because, well, snow. And partially because it was easy to track people in the snow.

When he—inevitably—did catch you, he was upset. You knew the risk of punishment when you made the choice, but what he did was different to what you expected.

Your wrists, ankles, and neck all ached badly. For over a week you were locked up and shackled. And not the kind of locked up you were before the attempt. No, there wasn’t a warm cabin, a fireplace, or Tartaglia’s sloppy attempts at keeping you happy. A fucking closet. No light, windows. Ajax didn’t even speak to you when he left you food.

It was so different to everything you’d ever known, growing up in the free rolling hills of Mondstadt. You already struggled in the confines of the cabin, but kept silent and still in such a small space?

A week of that, and now he decided you were good. That you’d probably learnt your lessons. But that morning, when he went to let you out, to welcome you back with a teasing ‘I hope you learnt your lesson’ and a patronizing hug, he found you… in a less than desirable state.

Shivering not from cold, throat raspy and raw, eyes trained on the ground. You didn’t even notice him at first. Not as he spoke, each shackle falling off with a click. Not as his mood shifted as the light from the hallway illuminated your skin.

You’d been clawing at it, to the point of bleeding, stretching your limited dexterity in order to anxiously and unconsciously hurt yourself. Like a caged bird plucking it’s own feathers from stress. You’d only been brought to reality when he picked you up, jerking away from him as tears sprung to your eyes again.

He said something you didn’t process as you tried to stand up, stumbling like a doe on new legs, vision gray around the edges.

You weren’t sure how it all went down. But somehow you two ended up on the couch, settled between his thighs, your back to his chest as you shaked and begged and tried to get away, only partially aware. “No no no no—Ajax please.”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, I got you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He repeated, letting you claw at his forearms instead of your own skin. “Breath, breath little dove. It’s okay, It's all over baby. I’m sorry, it was too much, wasn’t it? You’re too fragile for me to be mean like that.”

You continued your quick, flighty, panicked breaths as he gently tried to get you back to reality. Eventually, you’d slowed down, settling against his chest, eyes still wide and breaths still quick. Like a live rabbit in the hands of a trapper.

“You with me, baby?” He asked gently. As your chest struggled to rise and fall again, you gave a quick nod, not looking up at him. Your eyes were trained on some far off spot, pretending to be anywhere else other than that damn closet. You weren’t sure you even realized—truly realized—you’d left. “There we go. There. That’s better darling. See? Everything’s alright now.”

“E-everything's alright…” you repeated, nodding to yourself.

“Yeah. See? Not too bad. I’m sorry for your punishment, I got all caught up in my emotions. I should have known you wouldn’t do that well alone, without me.” He laid his cheek on the top of your head, voice taking on something fond. A content sigh sounded above you. “You’re so soft. I need to be careful not to break you. But you need to be careful too, baby.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, before squeaking out a soft, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, no more escape attempts. Okay?” He said, and you nodded. He ran his fingers through your hair, having let go of your wrists when you weren’t paying attention. His blunt nails, worn from hard work, scratched gently at your scalp. “That’s right.”

It continued for some amount of time. It was hard to tell, really. You were on the edge of freaking out but somehow also falling asleep. Everything ached, from your ribs to your wrists.

At some point, he grabbed them again. Gentler this time. He lifted one, holding it gently as his thumb rubbed at your self inflicted injuries.

You felt like a caged bird, bars too tight and owner too inexperienced to keep you from plucking your own feathers from stress.

He sighed above you, and you turned your head away so as to not look at him. “Poor thing.” The condescending words felt strangely genuine as he laid his cheek on the top of your head. “It’s okay, I’ll take the week off and we can fix this, okay baby?”

He quieted for a moment, and belatedly you realized he wanted a response. You made a small, hollow noise of acknowledgement, which came out raspy from your throat.

He sighed again, as if this was so hard on him. It was hard to find the energy to be angry though. So you just stayed silent as he dropped your wrist and dragged you closer to him. He was cold to the touch, but even his love was warmer than isolation.

Not quite sure how this one managed to be both softer and rougher than my usual works. Sorry it was so short! And yes, the next part of traitor readers will be coming… eventually. I’m having a touch of trouble formatting it which is getting in the way of be writing it. Side note, I’ve expanded my fandoms open for requests! HxH and to a lesser degree HSR!

#yandere tartaglia #yandere childe #yandere ajax #yandere genshin impact #yandere childe x reader

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masonmontz · 9 months ago

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hey hey hey, hope you like :)

word count: 1,5k angst/fluff

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

The house has been silent since Mason left two days ago. And not because he's going to travel with the team, he left because you had a fight.

The wedding took place two months ago, but you had been living together for a few months before that, that's why some stupid arguments were common and soon things were always resolved.

You and Mason argued because he used to leave the wet towel on the bed, he used your expensive shampoo, the television was too loud, he took all the blankets for himself at night, but always out of nonsense and in the end you were laughing at what you were saying.

But this time Mason was stressed about the terrible season he had at Manchester United, you were stressed because your boss bothered you all day with things that were out of your control and you said terrible things to each other.

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“Mason, can you please put your dirty dishes in the kitchen? I cleaned the house today.” You said as you passed him in the living room and saw that he was lying on the couch watching an old Man U match, he had two plates in front of him and a dirty glass. “Clean up any crumbs you dropped.”

“Oh my God, Y/N, I heard you, please stop being annoying.” He said in an irritated tone, probably because it's the third time you've asked him to take the dirty dishes off the coffee table. “If it's bothering you that much, take it off. When the game is over I'll take it to the kitchen.”

“I'm sorry, what did you say?” You said angrily and stopped next to the sofa, waiting for Mason to look at you, but he ignored you. “I’m talking to you Mason.”

“Why do you ask me to do things over and over again? I heard it the first time, but I don't need to do it the first second after you ask.”

“I asked you to do this an hour ago.”

“Because you can't keep anything organized at home. If Rose came to help us every day of the week, we still wouldn't be able to keep the house organized because you leave everything out of place.” You said angrily and Mason rolled his eyes at you, which made you furious. “Don't roll your eyes at me.”

“Please stop talking for a bit, I need to watch this match for the next game.”

You laughed in disbelief and couldn't believe Mason was being an asshole. He was in a terrible mood the whole week, it was like male PMS, even you weren't that annoying during your period.

But instead of letting him watch the game, you did the most childish thing you could, you turned off the television and stood in front of it. Mason looked at you in disbelief and now he was furious with you too.

“What the hell?”

“Am I boring? So I can be more. Pick up those dirty dishes and take them to the kitchen. Now.”

“This is so childish, how old are you? Fifteen?” Mason spoke loudly as he got up from the couch and picked up the dirty dishes from the coffee table.

“Yes, I'm fifteen years old Mason, and you're probably ten years old since you can't help me at all with cleaning the house.”

“I pay someone to do this, why do I have to worry about cleaning?”

“That's the stupidest thing you've ever said.”

“Know what? I'm fed up with you and this marriage.”

You couldn't answer Mason when you heard what he said. Mason didn't look at you and went upstairs while you stood in the living room watching him.

Fed up with you? It definitely hurt you more than the fight.

Mason came down the stairs two minutes later with a backpack and you already had tears in your eyes, but he only looked at you once before leaving.

“I'm leaving.”

“Where are you going?”

“To some place where I can be alone and away from you.”

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

You sent him some messages and he didn't respond, but you saw on Manchester United's Instagram that he was going to training normally.

And you were inconsolable. Just two days were enough for you to miss Mason terribly, and the silent house was sadder than you ever imagined.

You were sitting on the couch with ice cream watching How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days for the thousandth time, no tears because you've already cried all afternoon.

The rain falling outside made everything sadder, because you and Mason liked to stay at home on rainy days watching movies together or cooking. Almost every day was good and you were fulfilled after marrying the love of your life, but Mason never told you the things that bothered him.

Rainy days make you think of calm days, because Mason was the one who brought you calm and peace.

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“Why did we decide to go out to dinner today?” Mason asked as soon as you both got into the car, panting from running because of the heavy rain.

“Because I couldn't wait to eat pizza at that Italian restaurant.” You said as you tried to dry off the water with the coat Mason lent you. “Sorry for that.”

“It’s fine, you know how much I love to go out to dinner with you.” He said, and before he started the car, you threw your arms around his neck, leaving some kisses and making Mason smile. “Hmm, you always know how to make me happy.”

“I always want to make you happy babe.” You said and whispered in his ear, seeing Mason shiver because of your touch. “Perhaps we should have a movie night?”

“You know me so well, Y/N.”

The way home was quick and soon you and Mason were in comfortable clothes and lying on the huge bed in your bedroom. Mason brought several snacks to the room and even though he knew you didn't like eating in bed because of the dirt, this time you were so happy for him to be with you after a bad week that you didn't even mind.

“What kind of cliché romcom do you want to watch today?” He asked when he turned on the TV.

“I think today you can choose a movie for us.”

“Oh my god, it's a miracle, I bet tomorrow will be the sunniest day in England.” He joked with you, making you laugh and hug him.

“Shut up, I always let you choose the film for us.”

“Yes honey, twice a year.” He rolled his eyes and left a kiss on your forehead. “Just kidding, I love it when you pick a movie for us.”

“And I love you.” You whispered, but he heard you and smiled.

“And I love you much more, even if you make me watch those cliché romance movies.”

“Our romance is cliché.”

“And it's my favorite, that's why I don't like the others.”

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

Debbie sent you a message with videos of Summer and Mila as they spent the day with their grandparents, so you realized that Mason hadn't told her that he had left home. You didn't even know where he was for the last two days, you didn't know if he was at a friend's house or a hotel. You texted him asking where he was, asking him to come home, but only received silence in response.

You were lost in thought and didn't notice that Mason was standing in the doorway, wet from the rain and with the same backpack he left with two days ago. You only noticed he was home when he coughed on purpose.

You stood up scared when you saw him there, and tears fell when you ran to him and hugged him. Mason held you tightly against him, smelling your perfume that he had been missing.

“I missed you so much, where have you been?” You cried as you hugged him.

“I was at Mainoo. Oh, I missed you so much, Y/N.” He said and looked at you, wiping your tears. “We will never fight again. Never again, you hear?”

“I'm sorry for being a pain in the ass, I promise I'll try better.”

“You’re a pain in the ass but you’re my pain in the ass, okay? I don't care if you fight with me for leaving the towel wet or the dishes dirty, I just want you to do all this with me and not with someone else. I'm sorry for leaving, I was childish.”

“I can't believe you left me for two days.”

“Believe me, in the first ten minutes I was already missing you.” He said and kissed you. “And just so you know, I'm going to take a shower and use your expensive shampoo one more time.”

“I'm going to take a shower with you and we're both going to use my expensive shampoo.”

“Can we please have a movie night later? I didn't like watching movies with Mainoo, he's not soft and hot like you.”

“I'm glad to hear that, husband.”

“Mrs. Mount, you know you're the only one for me.”

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ereardon · 1 year ago

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Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Four

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child?

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, alcohol, gyno visit

Chapter summary: Bob finds out the pregnancy; Y/N gives Jake and Bob an ultimatum

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

The Barbie movie said it right. It was always baby dolls.

You were one of the girls who religiously carried around a baby doll. Buckled it into the seat next to you on car rides. Made sure to change its faux diaper. Prepared empty bottles of “formula” for feedings. So you had been sure you wanted to be a parent.

But when reality hit you like a ton of bricks, the fear overrode that sense of longing.

What if you weren’t enough to be a mom?

***

Bob didn’t come home that night. So he didn’t hear you crying on the floor of the shower after Jake ran out. By the time he arrived back at the house in the late morning, hair ruffled and nowhere near his normal slicked back military neatness, you had pulled yourself together. Or at least, as together as was possible.

“Hi Ducky,” he said, slipping through the front door, hanging his jacket on the hanger to his left. “How was your night?”

You shrugged. “Fine. Went to bed early.”

Bob paused. Then, “Did Jake stop by? I think I remember him saying he would.”

“Yeah, he did.”

“And?” There was an inflection of expectation in his voice. Leading.

“He stopped by, saw I was alive, and left. That was it.”

Bob frowned. “He just left?”

“Ran away, to be specific.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen Hangman run.” Bob cocked an eyebrow. “You must have scared him.”

“You have no idea.”

***

Every time Bob went out with the team you made an excuse to stay home. You had a headache. There was a new episode of The Bachelor on. You wanted to spend some time filling out job applications.

Each time, Bob would hesitate. You saw the wheels turning in his head. Part of him wanted to stay, keep you company, make sure you were alright. The other part of him was desperate to be part of the group. To see his friends. You wanted that part of him to win.

You took Bob’s truck to the doctor. She squeezed jelly onto an ultrasound wand and you held your breath as the machine beeped to life. “There,” she said, pointing to a tiny fleck in an otherwise empty uterus. “That is your baby.”

You let out a sigh. Not one of relief. Nor one of fear. Just a sigh. A part of you had been waiting to see it to know that it was real. Five positive pregnancy tests felt like unconfirmed trash until you could see it with your own two eyes.

“The baby is measuring at eight weeks,” the doctor said. “Have you started on prenatals?”

You looked down toward the end of the exam table. “I’m not sure if I’m having the baby.”

“Oh.” Silence filled the room. She rolled back on her stool. “Well, let’s discuss your options.”

***

When you were five, you had a tiny stuffed penguin that your mom bought you at the grocery store near the flower section. The penguin went everywhere with you: to kindergarten in your backpack, to the park, it got buckled into the car seat next to you, it sat on its own chair at the dinner table.

And then one day, it was gone. You were inconsolable. Your mother, trying her hardest to put her foot down, said that you lost too many toys so she wouldn’t buy a replacement. You spent three days crying into your pillow at night, inconsolable about the penguin.

On the fourth day, you were lying down to go to bed when the door to your room squeaked open. Light poured in, Bob pushing up his large glasses on his slim nose. “Ducky?” he whispered.

You sat up, wiping at the tears on your cheeks. “What?”

“Surprise.” He pulled an identical stuffed penguin out from behind his back. Your eyes went wide, a smile plastered over your face. You held out your hands and Bob stepped forward, placing the stuffed penguin into your arms. You held it tightly, vowing to never let it go.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Bob smiled. “You’re welcome.”

You fell asleep cradling the penguin. In the morning, your mom asked where you found it.

Bob shrugged. “Must have been under her bed.”

Your mother looked at the two of you. You were oblivious, happily eating your cereal. Bob was quiet, reserved. But when Friday rolled around and she offered to take him to the comic book store that he had been begging to go to, he declined. “Why?” she asked.

“I can’t afford a new comic.”

“You had ten dollars not two days ago,” your mother countered. “What did you do with all of that allowance?”

Bob looked over at you, playing in the corner. “She was sad.”

Your mother’s eyes softened. She pulled Bob into a hug. “You’re a good brother,” she said softly. “Come on, I’ll buy you two comic books.”

***

You had hid the evidence well enough. All of the pregnancy tests were in the trash wrapped in toilet paper. The clinic didn’t have Bob’s address listed in their file.

It was the fish tacos that did it.

Bob had stopped by a food truck on his way home from North Island, and your stomach growled as you tore into the white paper container of tacos, snapping them up greedily. But intense hunger was followed by a wave of unmistakable nausea and in a second you were out of your chair, running to the kitchen sink, throwing up the remains of the tacos with a loud gag. Bob came running into the kitchen, eyes wide. “Y/N?” he asked softly. “Are you alright?”

You ran the water, rinsing out your mouth, pushing everything down the disposal before straightening up and wiping at your lips with a paper towel. “Yeah, sorry. Think I got a bad batch of tilapia.”

He frowned. “Food poisoning doesn’t usually come on that fast. Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah I’m fine. Maybe I’ll just finish dinner later.”

“OK, sure.”

“I’m going to go lay down.”

The nausea passed, as it usually did. By the time the sun was setting, you felt fine enough to wander into the kitchen, head stuck inside the fridge, frowning at the different layers of scents emanating. Bob’s voice startled you. “Something’s wrong.”

You jumped before shutting the fridge, hand on your heart. “Bobby, you scared the shit out of me!”

“No secrets, Y/N,” he said. “We’ve always been honest with each other. Since we were kids. You and me, against the world. You can tell me anything.”

“I’m scared,” you murmured.

“What is it?” In the moonlight streaming diagonally through the windows, he looked worried. Bob worried was a sight you knew well. He wore an air of concern in most situations. Since he was a child he had been nervous, worried, cautious. An old man in a young boy’s body. You loved him for that.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered. The truth felt like releasing every gas bubble in your stomach all at once. You felt weightless.

And then gravity hit, and practically splattered you to the ground. Bob’s voice was no longer shaky. It was lower. Practically a growl. But perfectly crisp and decisive. “Whose is it?”

You should have known that was his next question. You should have been prepared. But instead, you said, “Jake’s.”

All of the air was sucked up by Bob in that instant. As if he were heaving it all in, preparing to breathe fire. You watched embers burn in his eyes. “I’m going to kill him.”

“It’s not his fault.”

“Then whose fault is it?” he roared and you staggered back, afraid of him for perhaps the first time in your life. “Fucking Christ, Y/N. You’ve really done it this time. Everything else, I could have handled for you. No job? I’ll help you find a job. No money? You can live with me. You need someone to proofread an essay? I’m happy to. But this?” He tossed his arms into the air. “What the fuck are you going to do?”

“Be a mom,” you whispered.

“You’re not prepared to be a parent,” he spat and you felt a flood of tears rush to your eyes. “You’re still a child.”

“No I'm not!” you countered. “So stop treating me like one.”

“Then stop acting like one!” Bob yelled and the sound reverberated along the empty walls. “You’re not ready for this,” Bob said, his voice lower now but still as fierce and hard.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m ready or not,” you whispered. “I have to be. That’s the end of the story.”

“You’re going to ruin this child’s life,” Bob said. His words cut. Never in twenty-three years had Bob said or done anything as painful as those words felt.

You let the tears fall from where they had started to well up on your eyelid. “No, Bobby, I’m not,” you whispered. “And if that’s what you think, then maybe I really am on my own.”

You were out the door before you realized you didn’t have a car of your own. You had no one to call.

Just one address that was seared in your memory.

By the time your Uber pulled up to Jake’s house, the rain had turned from a drizzle into practically a hurricane. You scampered out of the backseat and down the driveway, taking shelter under the porch as you hesitated before ringing the bell, lips practically blue from the cold.

Jake tugged open the door wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and no shirt. His green eyes widened as he took you in: drenched to the bone in a pair of pajamas, eyes ringed red from crying, no purse or bag, just a pair of flip flops on your feet.

“Y/N,” he murmured. “What—”

“I told Bob.” Your voice cracked.

Jake gulped. “Come inside.”

He held open the door. You were as sober as they came this time. Last time everything had been a blur: your legs pressed against the back of the door as Jake’s lips suctioned onto your neck. Your bra flung on the couch, Jake’s jeans pooled in a puddle in the hallway. This time, you stood shivering in the foyer as Jake’s eyes roamed over you. Finally, after a moment, you said, “I’m freezing.”

“Oh, shit.” That sparked a mission for him. “Here.” Jake gestured down the hall toward the bedroom. You stepped inside, trailing water along the hardwood floor. In the bathroom, he leaned in, turning on the shower, feeling the temperature with an upturned palm. “I’ll leave some clothes on the bed,” he said. “There’s, uh, towels in the closet.”

“Thanks.”

Jake hesitated for a moment. Finally, he turned to go and you heard the door to the bedroom shut softly. The clothes Jake left on the bed were a pair of women’s pajama pants and an obvious men’s sweatshirt. You pulled them both on and wandered out into the hallway. Jake was pacing up and down the living room, bare feet slapping against the wood. He had pulled on a t-shirt that was tight across his chest. When you entered the room he looked up, startled. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You looked around. “Can I sit there?”

“Yeah, of course.” Jake couldn’t sit still. You perched on the edge of the couch and watched as he crossed the room incessantly, shaking his head, the thoughts rolling around in his brain.

“Seresin,” you snapped and he looked over. “Sit down, you’re making me nauseous.”

“Fuck,” he whispered, sitting on the ottoman, one leg tapping. He looked up. “Are you OK?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know.” “But, um, the baby?”

“The baby is fine,” you replied quietly. “It’s me that’s not doing so great.”

“Is it Bob?”

Tears welled in your eyes. Jake’s face went ashen. You realized that Jake may have been just as scared of Bob’s reaction as you were. “He still thinks of me as a child.”

Jake sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “He’s just being a brother,” he said quietly. “I understand.”

“He’s going to murder you,” you said, only half joking.

“Not the first time Floyd has hated me,” Jake replied. “And it won’t be the last.”

“What’s the beef between the two of you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.” You stood up. Now you were the one pacing, the legs of the borrowed pajama bottoms dragging around the floor. “He’s going to be the uncle of this child.” You paused. “And you’re the father. I need the two of you to get along.”

“I need a second to digest this all,” Jake whispered.

“It’s been two weeks. I think your decision is pretty clear,” you replied. Jake opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You glanced at him, eyes dry from all the crying. “Can I stay here tonight?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, standing up. “You can take my bed, I’ll stay out here.”

“Thanks.” You paused in the doorway. “Goodnight, Jake.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Jake said softly.

***

A pounding noise woke you from an uncomfortable sleep. You sat up in terror, sheets tangled up at your ankles as the pounding continued.

Then, “Hangman!” Bob’s voice was clear as day.

You staggered out of bed, throwing open the door from the bedroom just as Jake opened the front door and Bob stepped in, reaching for Jake’s shirt near his chest. You gasped and his eyes flitted over Jake’s shoulder, widening when he spotted you wearing Jake’s oversized sweatshirt.

“Keep your fucking hands off my sister,” Bob growled, his fist balled up in Jake’s collar as he stepped forward until the two men were nose to nose.

“Let go of him!” you cried and your voice rang out, thin, in the large living room. Bob’s grip on Jake remained. “Bobby! Please.”

His gaze turned to you, threatening to liquify your entire body with its intensity. “Go to the bedroom, Y/N. This is between me and Jake.”

“Except it isn’t,” you said. “I’m not going to pretend to know what the fuck is going on between you two, but it ends here. You’re either both in or you’re out.”

Bob’s hand dropped from Jake. “What do you mean out?”

“Out,” you repeated, tears springing to your eyes. “Out of my life.”

“Ducky.”

“Don’t Ducky me. This isn’t a game and I’m not a child. If anyone is being childish here, Bob, it’s you. Fighting to prove a point? What is punching Jake going to solve? It’s not going to undo the fact that we slept together.”

Bob’s fists tightened at his sides. “Don’t remind me.”

“I can do this without you,” you said quietly. “I don’t know how, all I know is that I can because I have to.” You turned to Jake. “I can do it without both of you. I just want to know – are you in or are you out?”

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @wkndwlff @mamachasesmayhem @mandylove1000 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @shanimallina87 @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @yanna-banana @bbyvanessaa @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @joaquinwhorres @boiolay @sometimesanalice @spinning-away @mycobrakai1972 @xomrsalliej4787xo

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justanotherescapism · 9 months ago

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Old Wounds

The Ninth Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 610

God, you were done with him. He didn’t trust you to look after yourself, even to see your own family. You had traveled across time and space with him but returning to your home was a no go. Last time, it hadn’t gone well but you missed them. You were sitting away from him in the Tardis, he was choosing where you would go next. Running around the controls, with a big goofy smile on his face. When you first joined him on this adventure, he would let you choose where you should go. Or at least give you a choice. But now it’s the Doctor’s choice and only his, well not actually but it sure felt like it. He must’ve noticed that you were stropping, choosing to ignore you. Asshole.

“I think I’ve found our next destination.” He said excitedly. You didn’t turn around. “C’mon, you’re not still pouting are you?”

“I am actually.” You looked at him and his smile left his face. You were mad, and he knew it. Not stropping or pouting, angry.

“What’s wrong?”

“Seriously?”

“What?”

You groaned, he did this all the time, acting like he didn’t know. “Fine, let’s go to your mystery place.” The doctor turned towards the controls before pressing the button, looking at you again. Your face hadn’t changed. He shook his head, you rarely got angry, always happy to go with him anywhere. Just yesterday you were laughing and talking about the planet you went to last week. Now, you had put a distance between the two of you, and it made him uncomfortable. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. He tried not to get too attracted to his companions but you were different. You had reinvigorated his drive in his life.

“No. Not until you tell me what’s wrong?” He folded his arms over his chest, his lips drawing in a hard line.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You seriously don’t know?”

“No. I have no idea. Clue me in.”

“We talked about it yesterday! Why are you doing this?” You stood up, looking at him, he looked confused. He looked at the floor, blinking. “You can’t remember?”

“I don’t…”

“I want to see my family for once, I want to see my home. But now you choose where we go, what we do. I just go along with it.”

The Doctor looked ashamed, he does remember that now, he hadn’t taken it seriously. Last time you had gone home, it was a catastrophe, many died due to an alien invasion and it had been detrimental to Earth. After this, you were terrified, blaming yourself for bringing that back with you. The Doctor had tried to calm you but you were inconsolable for days, you’d barely leave the Tardis. Sometimes you still cry out in your sleep. He couldn’t take you back there, not when you had hurt so much from the last time.

“I was worried that you would open old wounds.” He looked into your eyes, they were sad now. “The last time we went…”

“I know.” You sat down again, in defeat, “I know.”

He came across to you, sat beside you. You had a few tears running down your face. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest. The Doctor wasn’t sure what else to do but apologize.

“I’m sorry.” He said, you looked up at him. His eyes met yours. He leaned down, giving you a gentle kiss. It was warm and soft, his hand rising to your cheek. He pulled away, wiping your tears with his thumb. You smile softly, letting him know, you forgive him.

#ninth doctor #ninth doctor x reader #ninth doctor imagine #9th doctor #9th doctor x reader #doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctor who x you #doctor who x y/n #ninth doctor x y/n

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btsficsandsuch · 2 years ago

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You Better Figure It Out- Part 2

Yoongi can’t figure out a way to prove to you that he never cheated. When you hear stories about his encounters with other women it starts to make you question your decision.

Part 1 Here

The plane ride back home was difficult. You tried your best to hide your tear stained face but after a few hours you just stopped caring. People stared and whispered, but your mind and your heart were so full of other things that it didn’t even matter to you. Yoongi had called you 16 times by the time your plane took off. You lost count of how many text messages he’d sent. Some of them apologizing, most of them begging. You had been cheated on in the past and Yoongi knew that too which is why you were extra hurt.

You wanted to believe he didn’t cheat on you but how could you? Your last boyfriend managed to hide his infidelity from you for six months and the two of you lived together and even worked for the same business. You and Yoongi spent a significant amount of time apart so it would be super easy for him to hide it from you. You thought of all the times he left for tour and you couldn’t go because of work and you wondered what he did when he was alone after the show or all the times he was locked in his studio all night and told you not to come by because he was busy. Now you were wondering exactly what he meant by “busy”.

When you finally made it back to your apartment the first thing you wanted to do was take a hot shower. Opening the bedroom door you were hit with a wave of disgust when you looked at the bed. The bed that you and Yoongi spent countless nights in cuddling, talking, showing each other love. What if he brought other women home and cheated on you with them in that bed? Suddenly you felt dirty being in that apartment. It didn’t feel like home any more. You grabbed another bag and packed some clean clothes. You were going to go stay with a friend for a while until you could find a new place. Luckily Yoongi wasn’t going to be home for a while so you didn’t have to worry about getting all of your things out just yet.

Over the course of the next few weeks Yoongi still called and texted you every day. Then you started getting texts from the boys asking you what was going on because Yoongi was inconsolable since you left. You knew things were serious when you got a voicemail from Bang PD letting you know that he was starting to get really worried about him. Part of you wanted to call and make sure he was okay at least but you ultimately decided against it. He brought this on himself and it’s not your responsibility to fix it. If things weren’t stressful enough for you, you still hadn’t found somewhere to live and the tour was almost over. Yoongi would be home in a few days and you weren’t sure what you were going to do.

You just arrived home from work when you heard your phone going off again. You went to delete the message assuming it was just Yoongi again but stopped when you saw it was Namjoon asking if the two of you could meet up now that they were home from the tour. You were hesitant but he promised no Yoongi so you gave in and you agreed to meet him the next day.

“Y/N it’s good to see you. How are you?”, Namjoon said while giving you a hug. You smiled, “I’m alright. How was the rest of the tour?” He sighed, “Tiring to say the least but we love it.” There was a long silence before he continued, “So you probably know why I wanted to talk so soon after getting back.” You nodded realizing that they would’ve just got in this morning. He continued, “Yoongi didn’t tell us the full story. He just said he messed up and he doesn’t know how to fix it. All I know is he’s not been the same Yoongi since you left.” You weren’t sure how much you wanted to involve him. At the end of the day this was between you and Yoongi but you thought maybe he might know something. “Namjoon, I want you to be 100% honest with me. Has he ever cheated on me?” You decided to give him more context before he answered, “He accused me of cheating and then admitted that he cheated on me. When I proved that I didn’t cheat he tried to backtrack and tell me that he never cheated. I don’t know if I believe him.”

Namjoon was quiet for a while like he was trying to decide how to answer. Finally he spoke, “Look Y/N I’m not with him 24/7 so I can’t tell you for sure.” You felt your heart sink. He continued, “But I can tell you there was this one time while we were on tour we had met a group of girls. We were all hanging out and drinking. People started getting touchy with each other. This one girl in particular really wanted Yoongi. I mean she was all over him.” The thought of some other girl all over him made you sick. You weren’t sure what the point of this story was and why he was telling you it. He continued almost like he could read your mind, “Yoongi kept pushing her away and telling her he wasn’t interested. She was persistent. Next thing I know her top is flying across the room and she’s straddling him in just her skirt and bra.” You’d had enough, “Joon what is the point of this story?” He chuckled, “Let me finish. He immediately shoved her off of his lap and left the room. Later that night Jimin found him asleep in his bed with his laptop open showing a slideshow of photos of you and he was hugging that tshirt of yours that he brings with him anytime we leave the country. My point is he could’ve easily had that girl if he wanted but he didn’t. Instead he laid in bed staring at pictures of you and clutching your shirt like it was the last thing he had left of you.” You had forgotten all about the blue tshirt you had gotten on a family vacation when you were 17. It was one of your favorites and Yoongi had accidentally packed it with his belongings before going on tour one time. He shyly told you how he had slept with it every night because it felt like you were there with him. Ever since then you let him keep it and it became like a comfort blanket for him when he was away.

Namjoon brought you back to the present as he continued, “Like I said Y/N, I can’t guarantee what Yoongi does when I’m not there but from what I do see I personally don’t think he’d cheat on you. The opportunity has presented itself several times over the years but he never acts on it. Ultimately though it’s up to you to decide if you want to move forward or end the relationship now. But please at least talk to him either way. We are really concerned about his well being right now.”

Even though you were more conflicted now you thanked Namjoon for talking with you and went on your way back home. You tried to clear your head on the walk back. On one hand you really believed that he wouldn’t cheat based on what Namjoon said but like he also said he’s not with him all the time. He was right about talking to him though. You knew that had to be done even if it was just to discuss moving your things out. You sent a quick text to him asking if the two of you could talk back at the apartment. Almost instantly you received a text back letting you know he was already there so you changed direction and made your way over.

You let yourself into the apartment for the first time in weeks. It felt even less like home than it did when you last left. You found Yoongi standing at the kitchen counter making two cups of coffee. You couldn’t believe how terrible he looked. His skin looked of a grayish color. He had dark bags under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in months. It looked like he had lost close to 20lbs since you last saw him. He looked up when he noticed you standing in the room. Slowly he walked over and handed you a cup of coffee, “I made it just like you like it.” You softly smiled and took the mug from him before sitting down. He stood staring for a moment like he was unsure where he should sit. Eventually he settled on the chair next to you.

“How have you been Y/N? Are you taking care of yourself?”, he asked. “I’m doing alright. How have you been?”, you inquired. He was biting his lip. Before he could speak the tears started flowing from his eyes. He started hyperventilating and shaking. Instinctively you reached for his hand, “Yoongi breathe. Just calm down and breathe. When is the last time you ate something or even slept?” He shook his head, “I don’t know. I don’t really care to do either any more.” “Yoongi you have to take care of yourself. Please. I hate seeing you like this.” You got up and checked the cabinets to find something to eat. Thankfully there were some instant noodles you were able to heat up. Setting the bowl in front of him you spoke, “Please eat. It’s the least you can do for me.” You watched as he finally started to eat the noodles. It was almost like you could see some life immediately brought back into his body.

You let him finish his meal and calm down a little before you decided to move forward with the reason you were there. “How do we move forward from this?”, you asked. He stared out of the window, “I don’t know Y/N. There’s no way for me to prove to you that I didn’t cheat. I love you more than life itself but I can’t force you to forgive me. What I did was disgusting and I broke your trust. I understand if you don’t want to continue this relationship any more.”, You sat in silence for a while before finally speaking up, “I agree Yoongi. I can’t trust you any more and I don’t think I can continue this.” He winced at your words before solemnly nodding. “Please take care of yourself Yoongi.”, you whispered before making your way to the front door.

You were finally able to find an apartment you could afford even though Yoongi had offered to let you have the apartment you shared. It didn’t feel right so you declined. You hadn’t heard from Yoongi since you stopped over to get the rest of your things. He still looked miserable but he didn’t say much. He helped you carry down some of your boxes to your car before disappearing to your once shared bedroom.

It had been several weeks since you heard from him when one day you got a text from him saying he had a box of your things at his studio. He said you could stop by any time and pick it up. You told him you’d stop by one day after work and that was the end of the conversation. It’s was a Friday evening and you were able to sneak out of work a little early so you thought it would be the perfect time to go get your stuff from his studio. You made the familiar walk to the building and then made your way past security and up his room.

Standing in front if his door you were about to knock when the door suddenly swung open and a woman came storming out slamming the it behind her. “Seriously, he already moved on?”, you thought feeling your heart break. “Oh are you here to see Yoongi? Well good luck. I swear I could walk in there naked and he wouldn’t even notice.”, she said dripping with sarcasm. You were pretty speechless not really sure what was going on. For some reason this woman thought you wanted to have this conversation so she continued, “Some guys are so blind or maybe just dumb. I’ve been trying to get with him for years. He always shot me down saying he had a girlfriend. I’d say what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. He still wouldn’t give in and told me he’d never do that to her. Whoever his girlfriend was must’ve been something special. Then I find out that they recently broke up. So I’m like okay cool. Now is my chance but he’s still rejecting me claiming he’s still in love and trying to get her back.” She eventually walked away still rambling. You were in disbelief at what you just heard. How could someone be so selfish?

You knocked on his door and waited for him to answer. When he did you greeted him with a slight smile, “I just met your friend. She seems nice.” He chuckled and invited you in. “So what’s her deal? It seems like she’s been giving you a hard time for a while.”, you asked. “That’s just Mae. She’s been working here for like three years. Her dads one of the big shots so she gets away with a lot. She’s been flirting with me and making advances on me for years. I think I’m the first person to tell her no in her life so she doesn’t like it.”, he said with a laugh. You began thinking back to the story that Namjoon told you about how Yoongi had rejected the girl while he was on tour and he also kept rejecting this Mae girl. You started wondering if maybe he didn’t ever cheat on you. He’s clearly had plenty of chances but has always turned them down.

You were shaken out of this thoughts when Yoongi spoke, “Your box is by the door. There’s some notebooks and supplies. Your favorite fuzzy socks are in there. I know you’ll want those back. Your favorite tshirt is also in there. I forgot it was still in my luggage.” You looked over and saw your blue vacation shirt that Yoongi always took with him on tour peaking out of the box. You were fidgeting with the sleeve of your blouse wondering if you’ll regret this next action or not, “Yoongi, you really never cheated on me did you?” He looked up at you, “Y/N I swear on my career, on my family, on my life itself. I never cheated on you. When I saw you at that pub and I thought you were getting that guys number I was hurt and scared and angry. I always expected you to leave me one day because I’m not the best at this relationship thing and I thought that day had finally come. I wanted you to feel the hurt that I was feeling. I said the one thing that I knew would hurt you the most and I’ll never forgive myself for it.”

You could feel the tears starting to well up in your eyes. You missed him so much. “Y/N you can say no if you want but can I hug you?” You nodded and he slowly wrapped his arms around you. It had been so long since you felt a relief like that. No one could hold you like him, comfort you like him, or love you like him. “Please give me another chance. I promise that nothing like this will ever happen again. You’ll never doubt my commitment or love for you.”, he whispered to you.

You pulled away to look into his eyes. It felt like years since you’d done that. His eyes were filled with sincerity. “I’m not saying I forgive you and I’m not saying that things will go right back to the way they were because it’s definitely going to take time but I do think that if we work on this we could repair our relationship.”, you said. Yoongi smiled, “I would really like that.” He took your hand in his, “If you like you could stay here for a little bit. I’ll order us some food. It’ll be like a repeat of our first date.” You thought back to that night and chuckled, “Yeah that sounds nice. Just please don’t spill your drink on me out of nervousness this time.” He laughed as he started ordering the food from his phone. You went over to the box of your things on the floor and took out the blue tshirt. You walked to Yoongi’s computer chair and laid the shirt over the back before leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He looked back at the shirt and then up at you before smiling. You took a seat on the couch and continued to watch him as he pondered over what to order. You knew he was the one that broke your heart to begin with but you also knew deep down that he’d be the one that could slowly stitch it back together.

@anon-1112

#bts #bts x reader #bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #bts yoongi #bts fluff #bts imagines #min yoongi

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humblequestvinyl · 2 years ago

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the view between villages

THE VIEW BETWEEN VILLAGES, FISHER BROTHERS X SISTER!READER

APART OF THE ‘WE’LL ALL BE HERE FOREVER’ SERIES

SUMMARY: after the death of her mother, the youngest fisher takes a drive away from the chaos, leaving her back in cousin’s, where for the first time in six weeks, everything’s still.

inspired by the view between villages by noah kahan.

◀ ⏸ ▶

lowercase intentional! wc: 1.5k

warnings: swearing, cancer, death of a loved one,grief, really really bad eating habits (please be cautious!) mentions of insomnia (?), breakdown, the summer i turned pretty spoilers!!!!!

a/n: noah kahan’s deluxe album of stick season came out and here we are.psa, i’m declaring cousins is in MA lol & im projecting some of my grief into here as well so pls enjoy!!

GRABBING HER KEYS OFF OF THE SIDE OF HER BEDROOM TABLE,

y/n fisher snuck down the stairs of her house, with the only sound echoing off the walls were her keys jingling as she made her way out, and the door locking behind her.

as she made her way out, she saw her car sitting in the same spot it had been for the past six days.

slowly opening the door to the 98 mustang, y/n got in, before turning the key, and the opening notes to marjorie by taylor swift had started to play. quickly shutting off her radio, the girl took in a shaky breath, trying to keep her composure until she got to her destination.

deciding to hit shuffle on her playlist, y/n gripped the wheel hard before putting the car in reverse, and backing out of her driveway in cambridge massachusetts.

it would take her an hour to get to where she needed to go, but the way she was going, it would take less than that. she was determined to get there as fast as she could, and as quickly as she could away from the house she used to call home.

six weeks, 4 days, and 25 minutes since she last had her mother here. 1,104 hours since she didn’t feel numbness, since she didn’t have blinding rage that turned her into a person she despised.

46 days since the glue that held her family together came unstuck, and it all fell apart.

ever since susannah fisher had died, the youngest fisher hadn’t been the same.

grief had made her shut down, bursting at the seams with seething rage. the fisher that was known as the kindest girl in cambridge had become inconsolable, angry and resentful towards everyone around her.

she had shut out everyone who tried to get in. her best friend, belly and steven who had tried to call right after susannah had passed, and both of her brothers no matter how hard they both tried.

she was on her own, and it was her own doing. y/n knew it, her best friend grace knew it, hell- her own father who she barely acknowledged knew it.

y/n had always heard that grief changed people, it turned them into people that had been hiding deep down, under anger, sadness, resentment and agony. she never once believed it because she had never seen it. too young, too naive, and too joyful to believe that someone could change that fast at the drop of a hat.

she didn’t believe it until she became that person herself.

resentful, depressed, and in so much agony it caused her physical pain.

y/n could feel the same pain filling her as she cross the sagamore bridge, and soon enough, she was pulling into the same driveway she had left less than a year ago, except back then she had her mother right by her side, in the passenger seat as they drove back home.

exiting the car, she saw the house known as ‘beck’s house’ the same way the fisher’s had left it the summer before. with the flowers they had planted now shriveled up and dead, describing the way y/n felt.

she grabbed the blanket she always kept in the back of the car before making her way down towards the beach, with the sun barely above the horizon. purple, pink and blue painted the sky as the 16 year old wrapped herself tightly in the blanket, reminding her of her mother.

y/n couldn’t escape it. everywhere she went she saw her mother. the starbucks they would stop at everyday her freshman year, the bakery they went to every friday, and even driving the car that was once her mom’s.

everywhere she went, y/n saw susannah fisher.

it made her angry. it made her absolutely furious that everyone else could go on with their lives, with both of their parents and their families happy and joyful. it made her furious that she wouldn’t have her mom there to give her tips on how to do her makeup, to see her off to college, and she wouldn’t be able to have her mom see her in a white gown, walking down the isle as she got married.

everyone else but y/n fisher would be able to experience that.

hot angry tears started to roll down y/n’s fiery cheeks that were filled with rage, and her fists balled up, her short nails digging into her skin as she tried to watch the sunrise, but she couldn’t.

the longer she sat there, the angrier she got, before she finally ripped off her blanket, and stood up.

she looked towards the flower bed her mother always kept towards the beach, with decorative rocks holding them down, before grabbing as many as she could and tossing them into the ocean one at a time, each representing the innocence, and opportunities she had lost.

y/n watched as they sunk into the ocean, representing the sinking feeling she couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard she tried, until her hands were empty, but the agony she felt was still there.

and no matter how hard the youngest fisher tried, it continued to rise until she couldn’t take it anymore.

a scream erupted from her lips as she heard footsteps quickly approaching her, but she refused to see who it was. y/n hands shook as she searched the sand for more rocks, or even sea-shells until she found one, and chucked it as hard as she could into the ocean.

the h/c girl stopped in her position as conrad stood in front of her, stopping her from searching for more things to throw. she could see jeremiah right on the side of conrad, and the concern on their faces scared her.

it was at that moment, she felt the bottle that held all of her grief, shattered.

the hot angry tears turned into agonizing sobs, ones she couldn’t hold off any longer. for the first time since her mothers death, y/n had broke.

she felt conrad's arms wrap around her as her sobs became louder and louder, and jeremiah soon joined in, both fisher boys not realizing how bad y/n had been. grief had slowly been consuming her, and neither of them had seen it.

they both knew she hadn’t been sleeping, and the only thing they ever saw her eating or drinking was the starbucks drink she always had in her hand. the entire family was so wrapped up in their grief, they never saw how bad everyone actually was.

the fisher siblings stood there for a long time, before y/n’s tears had become silent, and y/n and conrad sat there, watching the ocean as jeremiah had run to grab the three’s breakfast from the front porch.

“how long have you been this angry?”conrad questioned as he looked over at the girl, finally taking notice of how bad she looked. she had purple bags under her eyes, and had lost so much weight that to conrad, his little sister had almost become unrecognizable.

“almost two months.”y/n whispered as jeremiah had come back, with two starbucks bags in his hands for the fisher siblings. conrad stared at the girl as jer gave everyone their items, and y/n took a drink of her refresher, trying to avoid her brothers looks.

“why didn’t you say anything?”jer asked softly, watching as his baby sisters hands shook, and she kept silent for a few moments before finally speaking up.

“sometimes in my mind, the best thing to do is to bottle everything up and wait until i shatter.”the h/c girl explained, sniffing before she took another sip of her drink, “plus i’m not the only one grieving, you two have been as well and i didn’t want to put that on you.”

the fisher brothers shared a look, now knowing how bad things had really gotten for the girl without them realizing it. “when was the last time you slept or ate?”conrad questioned, and y/n shrugged, not really knowing how to answer the question that was presented in front of her.

“i usually try to sleep during the day. everything keeps me up at night.”she whispered, before jeremiah hugged her from the side, leaving the three siblings in silence, except for the waves crashing against the shoreline.

the fisher siblings were back in cousin’s, and everything had stilled.

#conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #conrad fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher x reader #the summer i turned pretty #fisher brothers x sister!reader #conrad fisher sister #jeremiah fisher sister #belly conklin #susannah fisher #stick season #we'll all be here forever series #tsitp #angst #the summer i turned pretty angst #conrad fisher angst

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danikamariewrites · 2 years ago

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can i please request feysand x reader where she’s super shy and an extreme introvert, she doesn’t talk that much and she often hides behind rhysands or feyres wings when they’re talking to someone/ when reader becomes overwhelmed. They speak mind to mind since they’re mates so they’ll often speak for her, like at restaurants, they know what to get reader. At meetings at hewn city she’s often waiting in their room/stands very far away from the dais, usually with nesta and cassian. Maybe she overhears keir or some lord speak ill about feyre and rhysand and for the first time in readers life she loses it, absolutely cusses him out and at first he doesn’t realize who she is but then he realizes and is forced to do an humilitaing apology to them infront of everyone in the room❤️❤️ protective reader is givinggggg

Feysand x shy!reader hc

A/n: I feel like I made this way too detailed and long but oh well. I couldn’t stop myself

Warnings: slight angst

You had been part of the inner circle forever

You met Rhys when you were children. Your dad worked for Rhys’s dad so you were forced to do your lessons with Rhys

Your parents wanted you to socialize more since you didn’t have any friends. Their compromise was putting you in private lessons with Rhys

His wings scared you and you wouldn’t even look at him. You just kept your head down and did your work

Rhys was always nice to you and he wanted to be your friend. One afternoon when the teacher left you two alone he went and stood in front of your desk until you talked to him

From that day on you became best friends

Over the years you developed a crush on him but kept it to yourself

When he went under the mountain you were distraught and inconsolable. You wouldn’t even let Mor into your room during the first few months

After 50 long years Rhys finally came home and when he told you all about his mate what remained of your heart shattered

He started spending time with you again though, he showed you images of Feyre from right before he left

You couldn’t believe this stunning human girl was turned into an even more beautiful version of herself

You wanted to know her so badly. When sleep evaded you and Rhys you’d beg him to show you memories of her beating Amaranth’s trials. Feyre was absolutely amazing

When Feyre came to Velaris and after the war with Hybern you became very close friends

Feyre is gentle and knows how to talk and be with people, it’s one of the reasons you developed a crush on her

It drove you crazy that you had fallen in love with this mated couple and you had such a hard time/fear of telling them

Against your better judgment you went to Rhys. He’s your best friend he wouldn’t be mad, Rhys would help he always helps

Entering his office you see Feyre is with him but you still force yourself to go in and face this

“Y/n, we wanted to talk with you. Please sit.” Rhys says with a smile on his face

That instantly made you want to throw up but you kept a brave face

You showed them your feelings, you didn’t trust yourself to speak

Once you were done the pair sat on either side of you on the couch hugging you. A few tears slipped from your eyes, “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice barley above a whisper

“For what?” Feyre asked. “If I’m a problem.” Your lip trembled as your eyes met her blue ones. “Sweetie you are not a problem.” She kissed your forehead and hugged you to her chest

To your surprise, your relationship with them is what they wanted to talk with you about. You spent hours in Rhys’s office talking about being with him and Feyre

By the end you were so relieved they felt the same way. It took a few weeks to establish a good dynamic but once you got into it, it was like you never left the honeymoon phase

They’re very protective of you

Which means the rest of the IC is very protective of you

Feyre has beat up someone for being mean to you about being so quiet

You very rarely speak, only at family dinners and with just Rhys and Feyre

You typically sit out of high lord meetings

The one time you did go it was very overwhelming for you and Helion tried to smile at you and you truly didn’t know what to do

You had moved yourself so far into Rhys’s side of his wings were out you wouldn’t have been seen

Since you’re so quiet you’re able to sneak up on Rhys and Feyre

Every time you do they jump and it makes you laugh

The two of them love going into Velaris

Shopping and going out to restaurants always drain your social battery but you don’t mind going with them

It’s easy to communicate with their daemati powers especially when you don’t want to talk

You can always let Rhys or Feyre know what you want to get and they’ll order it for you

Sometimes when you talk with others you forget never everyone can talk with their minds

Cassian asked you a question once and you just looked at him, answered in your head, and went back to whatever you were doing

You realized that you didn’t give him an answer and apologized for 3 days straight

Rhys and Feyre love their people so of course they stop and talk to everyone they can in town

You smile and greet them as well but as the conversation goes on you tend to grip one of their hands or arms as you drift to stand behind them

Since you sit out high lord meetings you also typically don’t go to the Hewn City

If you do you usually stay in the Moonstone palace until it’s time to go home

The one time you did go to a dinner was a borderline disaster

You were standing off to the side of the room with Amren while the party was in full swing

You wanted to ask Amren who everyone was coming up to Feyre and Rhys but you were too nervous to ask her. A little while later you noticed that one of the males, who was speaking to them for quite a while, was loudly complaining about Rhys. And he especially did not like Feyre

Hearing enough of this morons blatant lies you snapped. Amren was so shocked, she had never heard you speak so much or so loudly. “How dare you speak of your High Lord and Lady that way! You’re lucky the High Lord doesn’t have his general take your tongue–“

Before you could keep yelling Rhys appeared next to you dragging you away

They we’re both very proud of you for yelling at Kier. Mor even gave you a big hug since she despises her father.

What you were not super happy about was apologizing to Kier on the throne. Rhys needed Kier on his good side so you would do this for him

Feyre was mad at him for making you apologize so for the rest of the night Feyre kept you close to her and you cuddled with just her in bed. Rhys was less than happy to be forced to stay on his side of the bed

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fickleminder · 1 year ago

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sacrificial lamb (2)

Part 1 here. Based on the Frost event!

Idek where I’m going with this. MC’s fate is left unknown. Content warnings: mentions of dismembered body parts

When the blizzards finally died down, the Devildom was practically buried in snow.

Mercy, some later praised. The Old ones were not to be trifled with, and the white wolf was known to have wiped out entire civilizations for defying it. The Devildom would recover in time, its crops would regrow, and life would go on…

Except for one.

“I— I found…” Levi choked, unable to bring himself to finish his sentence. He didn’t need to; the severed hand on the ground said it for him. It was frozen through and through, seemingly made out of ice, but everyone could tell who it belonged to in a heartbeat.

“That’s… that’s from the sculpture, right?” Asmo giggled shakily and covered his mouth. The next chance he got, he was going to punch Mammon for making it so lifelike. “Silly Levi, don’t scare us like that—”

“Raphael!”

Simeon barely managed to stop Luke from tackling the seraphim, seeing as he’d just been freed from his icicle prison. Several spears laid in crystal pieces at his feet, flash frozen and shattered to bits.

“Shit, it got you too,” Mephisto muttered, leaning heavily against Diavolo. The demon prince was trying unsuccessfully to get his oldest friend to sit down and rest, the noble having been freshly thawed himself. “That means…”

“No. I don’t know,” Raphael replied, a tremor in his normally calm tone. “Thirteen was waiting for us at the gates. She must have known it would catch up to us, so I decided to stay back and buy her some time.”

The plan had been to spirit you away while your sculpture was offered to the white wolf in exchange, but the deity had not been pleased at the attempted trickery. It proceeded to pursue you and your protectors, uncaring of all the frost and destruction left in its wake.

But where were you now?

Between surveying the overall damage and coordinating relief efforts, everyone searched and searched to no avail. There was no sign of you or Thirteen anywhere.

(Satan disappeared to one of the lower Circles when he learned that reapers didn’t leave anything behind when they died. They just... dissipated into wisps.)

The white wolf was gone too, vanished without a trace after its rampage through the Devildom. Surely it wouldn’t retreat without its prize, and yet it wasn’t unreasonable to wonder if it had decided that if it couldn’t have you, no one could.

(The twins were inconsolable when they found your crystallized head half-buried in the thick snow. Mammon didn’t show his face for a week after that.)

It became an unspoken rule to check the reaper’s cave regularly. Thirteen’s home remained empty, but your candle continued to burn.

(Never mind the fact that a frozen heart could still beat, Solomon thought grimly.)

And as long as it did, none of them would rest until you were found.

#writing #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me nightbringer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me mephistopheles #obey me raphael #obey me thirteen

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ilovewillem · 6 months ago

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Whumptober day 8- Sleep deprivation

The first time Yuta slept in Inumaki’s room was out of pure necessity. His screams had woken everyone at the school for the past week, and nothing seemed to be helping. Inumaki found himself standing outside of Yuta’s room with a glass of water and a weak sedative Shoko had given him to give to Yuta, not trusting the dark-haired boy with them. Before he had the chance to knock, the door flew open.

Yuta’s lean frame was shaking, and fat tears running down his face.

Inumaki set everything he had been holding down on the floor and wrapped his arms around the other boy, shushing gently. He spoke his usual rice-ball ingredient despite not having much to say. It was far from the first time he had seen Yuta in this state, and he knew that familiar touch, voices, and scent helped ground him.

’Sleep in my room tonight’ Toge signed as soon as Yuta had calmed enough to see him. It was more of a demand than a question.

“Yeah.” Yuta nodded, whining. “Please.”

Toge left everything he had brought on the floor and dragged Yuta to his room, keeping a close eye on him. He hummed lightly, fearing that silence would frighten Yuta into an even worse state. He pushed the shaken boy into his bed and wrapped him in a blanket. It was clear that he was extremely sleep-deprived, speaking gibberish and flapping his hands wildly.

Toge did everything he could to turn his room into a safe haven. He stacked soft plush toys around Yuta and dimmed the lights. Nothing he did seemed to make much of a difference. Despite Yuta being covered in blankets and pillows, he was shivering.

As soon as his eyes fell on the pill bottles on Toge’s bedside table, he began to panic.

“No, no, no.” He hyperventilated, thrashing around and letting out weak squeaks.

“Mustard leaf?” Toge took Yuta’s hands, squeezing them. “Yuta, Yuta!” Usually, the sound of his own voice coming out of Toge’s mouth would snap Yuta out of whatever trance he was in. It didn’t seem to have any effect.

“Are you gonna kill yourself?” Yuta was inconsolable, grabbing Toge’s shirt and shaking his head.

“No!” Toge gasped, offended by his assumption. The word had no cursed energy behind it, but it still seemed to change the energy around them.

Yuta sobbed, the deep bags under his eyes bruised and black.

‘When’s the last time you’ve slept?’ Toge signed. It was clear that his boyfriend was past the point of lucidity.

It took Yuta a while to process the sighs. “I don’t know.”

‘I’m not going to kill myself.’ Toge signed and looked over at the pill bottle on his table.

Yuta’s small whimpers were weak, something that shouldn’t have been able to come out of someone so powerful.

“Oh.” Toge had never wanted to be able to talk more in his life. He grabbed Yuta’s face and shook his head. “No, no, baby.”

The pet name pacified Yuta for a fraction of a second.

‘They’re for sleep. They’re for you. You need sleep.’ Toge began to kiss all over Yuta’s face. He kissed from the top of his forehead to the tip of his chin before moving down to his neck. Yuta’s sobs slowly transformed into soft giggles.

‘Can you smile for me?’ Toge requested, loving his dear Yuta’s soft grin.

“Not yet.” Yuta sniffed and buried his head in Toge’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for assuming the worst.”

“Ikura.” Toge pat Yuta’s back, trying to get him to lift his head.

Yuta listened, fidgeting with Toge’s hand as he looked up at him. Toge gently pulled his hand away so he could sign.

‘We’ve talked about this before. I’m not mad at you at all, but I need you to sleep now. We can talk about this later. Can you tell me the last time you’ve had a full night of sleep?’

“I don’t remember.” Yuta sniffed. “I really don’t.” His voice was slurred, thick with exhaustion.

‘I’m going to give you one of the pills, is that okay?’ Toge was sure to be as clear in his signing.

“Okay.” Yuta rubbed his eyes as Toge handed him a pill and a glass of water. He sipped it slowly, trying hard not to choke. He wormed out of the blankets and wrapped Toge’s arms around him. Toge adjusted the bed to be as comfortable as possible before slipping a finger under Yuta’s chin.

“I love you.” Toge kissed Yuta’s soft lips. “So, so much.”

“M love you more.” The pill seemed to be working, slowly sending Yuta into the deepest sleep he’d had in a while.

Toge stayed awake a little after Yuta fell asleep, littering his face with the softest kisses he could manage. His heart was so full of love for the boy in his arms that it was nearly bursting. He woke up with the sun streaming through his window and Yuta still fast asleep. Toge was unable to resist smooching Yuta’s forehead, his worry lines disappearing under those lips.

“Good morning.” Yuta nuzzled into the side of Toge’s neck and nibbled on his shoulder.

Toge ran his hands through his lover’s hair, gently scratching his scalp.

“I love being around you.” Yuta giggled.

Toge knew Yuta was still tired and had no intention of letting him leave anytime soon. He pulled his hands away from Yuta and stroked his cheek, trying to make sure he was able to see what he was about to sign.

“Mhm?” Yuta hummed.

‘Let’s stay in bed. Catch up on sleep, you need that. How do you feel about that?’

“I like that idea. Will you hold me?” Yuta was so powerful, but he was so soft in Toge’s arms.

‘I won’t want anything else.’ Toge signed before wrapping himself around his boyfriend and kissing his hair.

Yuta muttered about how much he loved Toge until he passed out. He woke up every few hours to smile at Toge and poke his face. The bags under his eyes would never fully go away, but they looked less painful and more like something that could be covered with makeup.

“Pretty.” Yuta rolled onto his back, keeping his ear over Toge’s heart to listen to his heartbeat.

#whumptober 2024 #fanfic #sleep deprivation #fluff #inuokko #ottoge #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #no. 8 #yuta okkotsu #inumaki toge

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marie-swriting · 1 year ago

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Anything Serious - Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Summary : Three times you flirt with Natasha and one time, you confess your feelings.

Warnings : Angst, happy ending, alcohol consumption (be careful with your acohol consumption), thowing up, drunk confession, implied sex but noting explicit, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 4.7k

French version

Song inspiration : Flirting With Her by Sir Babygirl

“Here to being single !” you yell before taking a shot with your two friends Sarah and Alison.

The sound of your glass being put down on the table resonates in the bar. The alcohol burns your throat but you still let go of a victory scream. Tonight, you’re celebrating your single life like you just screamed.

You were in a relationship for the past three years before your ex broke up with you for someone else who, apparently, is better than you. You’re not going to lie, a week ago, you were a mess. You were inconsolable, you only left your home for work and you’d stay in front of the TV doing nothing. Fortunately, thanks to your best friend’s encouragement, you realised it was her loss, not yours. That’s why you want to celebrate the fact that you’re single and without any string attached.

“I’m finally gonna be able to do things I’ve always wanted to do and it’ll be easy.” you announce with joy. “I’m gonna have fun, go out as much as I want without any drama. You were right, Sarah, this is the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me. And I am telling you two, I’m gonna have so much fun…” you continue while your eyes find a woman with raven hair, “with her, for example. She is beautiful.”

“Well, the single phase would have been long.” Alison laughs as you keep looking at the woman.

“Who said I wanted to date again?”

“You’ve just fallen for her.”

“So what ? It doesn’t mean it has to be serious.”

“But you only do serious relationships.” Sarah contradicts.

“Not anymore.” you state before ordering a new shot.

“You sure you wanna do this?”

“Totally! She’s in the Navy,” you explain, pointing at her uniform, “so she won’t be here for too long, in other words, if it goes right then perfect and if it goes wrong, then I won’t have to worry about seeing her again. It’s a win-win situation.”

“Then, go shoot your shot !” Alison encourages.

“Sure do !” you exclaim before drinking your shot.

You make sure your outfit is put together before going to the bar under your friends’ encouragement. First, you talk to Penny and pay for a cocktail. You patiently wait for Penny to give it to the woman and explain to her it’s from you. Once Penny goes to another client, the raven-haired woman’s eyes land on you while she smiles and takes a sip of the drink. You take this as a good sign so you stand up and go sit next to her.

“Thanks for the cocktail. Good choice.” she comments, drinking a bit more.

“Glad you like it. I’m Y/N and you?”

“Natasha.”

“What’s your callsign?”

Natasha looks at you, surprised, not expecting this would be a detail you were interested in.

“Phoenix.” Natasha informs with a confident smile.

“I bet your callsign suits you well.”

“You tell me. What brings you here tonight?” she questions, intrigued.

“I’m just enjoying my new freedom and you?”

“Nothing special, I’m relaxing after my day at work.”

“You’re here on a deployment?”

“Yes, I’m only here for two weeks. I want to make the best out of it.”

“As do I.” you state with a flirty smile. “You should join my friends and I. We’re gonna play darts. You’re more than welcome.”

“I will.”

You smile at Natasha then go back to your friends, your mouth wide open, simulating a scream of joy. Your friends ask you a lot of questions as soon as you’re at the table with them again and you answer them without wasting a second.

“I’m telling you, by the end of this night, I have her number, at least !”

And you’ve had even more.

The next day, you wake up in an unknown bedroom, Natasha’s arms around your waist. Understanding you didn’t go home after your intimate moment, you mentally insult yourself. You don’t know if you should wait for her to wake up or leave now. You debate with yourself for a few seconds before coming to the conclusion it’s better to run away now, especially because you have some work waiting for you.

Slowly, you get out of Natasha’s grip and pick your clothes off the floor. Hastily, you get dressed before walking to the exit. When you’re about to open the door, you sigh in relief when Natasha’s voice comes behind you. You jump and turn around, facing her with your hand on your heart.

“I didn’t think you were the kind to sneak off.” she laughs.

“Oh, well, I was thinking you wouldn’t want me at your place for any longer. Actually, I…” you try to explain before admitting defeat, “I have to confess I don't know the rules for one night-stands. It’s the first time I do this.”

“Glad to be the first. And for your information, it can differ with the person though, personally, I don’t mind if you want to stay.”

“Got it. But I have to go. I have work to do.” you inform, sad to leave her so soon.

“No worries. Are you gonna go out like this?”

Following her question, you look down at your outfit, not understanding her critic. Sure, one can tell it’s not a typical Sunday outfit however, it doesn’t look ugly. You don’t see the problem. Phoenix leaves the bed before opening her closet.

“It’s cold in the morning. Here, you can take my jacket.” she says, handing the piece of cloth.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to give it back before you leave.”

“It’s okay. At least, I’ll have an excuse to send you a text when I’ll be around again.”

“Thanks for the jacket then.”

Natasha gives you a tender smile while you put the jacket on ; you don’t move for a few seconds, admiring her face one last time before leaving. You want to memorise her face because, no matter if she said she’ll text you when she’ll come back, you doubt it. You flirted, you matched, you had a nice moment but it’s only a one-time thing ; you don’t think you’re ready to start anything.

As soon as you tear your eyes away from Natasha, you zip up the jacket before opening the door. Natasha asks you to send her a message once you get home. You promise her to do it then, you leave.

And the second you come home, you grab your phone before informing her:

Message from you to Natasha, 7:36 A.M.:

I’m safe and at home. Thanks for the jacket, I promise I’ll give you back when you’ll be here again…

Or not ;)

Six months have passed since your meeting with Natasha. After your text when you came home, she simply replied “Glad to know you’re home. See you again :)” then nothing. You couldn’t have expected anything else. After all, you only shared one night together. But still, you feel a pinch in your chest, realising her lack of messages.

Therefore, you do everything to leave this story behind you. Even if you randomly met her, nothing would happen, that was for sure. You need to go back to your peaceful life where you’ve been picking some new habits. One of them being going to the Hard Deck once a week with your friends. Contrary to when you were younger, now you enjoy a good night out, having fun with your loved ones, an alcoholic drink in your hands. You’ve met some new people though, nothing that could compete with what you felt the second you saw Natasha.

This weekend is not different from the others, you find yourself at the bar. You’re laughing with your friends when a waitress comes to give you a cocktail you didn’t order. When she tells you someone paid for it and you see Natasha from afar, you can’t believe your eyes. You didn’t think you’d see her again. She gives you a sign with her own drink before taking a sip. You give her back her sign and drink.

Next to Natasha, Bradley looks at her and sighs, desperate by the situation.

“You should talk to her instead of staying at a stupid safe distance.”

“We haven’t seen each other for six months, I just wanted to make sure she was still interested before doing something.”

“Now you know she does, go talk to her.” he orders, trying to push her in your direction.

“She’s with her friends.”

“And it didn’t bother her last time to talk to you. I don’t get it, Natasha, you’ve never been like this before.”

“I know!” she exclaims, mad at herself. “And I hate how I’m overthinking this. I feel like you.”

“Well, thanks! It wasn’t even serious between you two, you shouldn’t think too much about it. Go talk to her.”

“And tell her what?”

“I don’t know! I’m not the one who had a one-night stand with her. If you don’t want to talk to her, invite her to dance.” Bradley proposes, annoyed.

“No one is dancing.”

“In less than a minute, it won’t be the case anymore. Go to her, I’m handling the rest.”

Natasha drinks her glass in one go before walking to you with a fake confidence expression on her face. As for Bradley, he’s walking towards the piano, waiting for the right moment to start playing.

You’re talking with Sarah who is in front of you when Alison catches your attention by hitting your ribs. You look at your friend, brows furrowed whilst she makes a sign to look at the other side. At the same moment you’re turning your head, Natasha is in front of you and Bradley starts playing Great Ball Of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis. Instantly, people start dancing and Natasha gives you her hand with a smile.

“Wanna dance ?”

As a simple answer, you take her hand, you stand up from your chair and follow Natasha who is bringing you to the piano, your friends on your heels. You sing alone with Bradley while Natasha and you dance without a care in the world. You’re laughing and spinning each other until the last note of the song.

Once Bradley finishes singing, Natasha keeps your hand in hers. You stare at each other with a huge smile on your face.

“I didn’t know you were back. You haven’t texted me.” you state, still surprised.

“I was going to, I’ve just arrived.”

“How long are you here for?”

“Three weeks.”

“So we have a bit more time. We should make up for the lost time. I hope I’ll be able to give you back your jacket, though I have to admit, I’d like to keep it, but you can always come to my place to try to have it back.” you propose with a flirty look.

“I will. At least, this time, I’ll be sure you won’t be sneaking off.” Natasha laughs and you roll your eyes, faking being mad.

“You’re never gonna let this go, are you?”

“I won’t.”

In spite of yourself, your heart melts when you look at Natasha’s mischievous smile. You don’t want to admit it but you missed her. You really thought you had forgotten about her, you were far from the truth. Yet, it seems like you weren’t the only one. You’re glad to see you’ve affected her as much as she’s affected you, though you didn’t want to grow attached to someone that quickly.

However, you leave your mixed feelings behind you for the rest of the night, enjoying this moment with Natasha and getting to know her a bit more.

Like six months ago, after some flirty comments, Natasha finds her way in your bed, your arms around her body.

Message from Natasha to you, 9:05 P.M.:

Hey, I’m back in town. Are you free tonight?

You look at Natasha’s text for several minutes, not knowing what to answer. You are, indeed, free tonight though, you don’t know if it’s a good idea. Since your reunion at the Hard Deck three months ago, you’ve seen each other several times and you have to confess your feelings for her are getting stronger.

At first, you thought it was just an innocent crush, however, she haunts your mind and you’re just waiting for the moment where you’ll see her again. Sure, your relationship is more physical than emotional but you’re gladly taking anything she wants to give you. Despite of yourself, she’s managed to leave her name on your lips and you yearn for the feeling of her body in your arms. You wish you could have more, though you’re pretty sure she doesn’t. You should keep your distance with Natasha, it’d be better. Like this, you’ll avoid a heartbreak again, especially considering your relationship is non-existent.

You have to lie to her and say you can’t see her. It’s better for you. That’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to stay far away from her.

You didn’t stay far away from her for long.

Without knowing how, you found yourself in Natasha’s hotel room, your clothes found themselves on the floor and you found each other in the bed. A part of you is cursing at you for not listening to your rational side but currently, it’s the least of your worries.

In Natasha’s arms, you discuss several things and you realise if given a chance, you could have a beautiful love story. You have a lot of things in common and your views about the world and the future are similar. You could have had a great future with Natasha. However, after every intimate moment spent together, Natasha reminds you that it’ll never be more than nights shared together.

“I’m glad we’ve met, you know,” Natasha starts, holding you tighter against her, “because of my work, it’s always been complicated to form relationships but with you, it’s easy, peaceful. We don’t want anything serious so what we have is enough.”

“Yes, it's good. I’m enjoying every moment of my single life for the first time.” you affirm, hiding your disappointment.

“You know, the day you’ll meet someone who’s worth it, you can tell me. I’ll understand if you don’t want us to talk anymore.”

“Same goes for you.”

“You don’t have to worry about this.”

“You don’t want a serious relationship? Like, ever?” you question, looking her right in the eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t want one, it’s just that it’s easier like this. I could never truly give to the other person the relationship they’d deserve so I don’t want to waste my time. Besides, long-distance relationships aren’t my thing and I can’t ask for the person to give everything up for me.” she states like it was obvious.

“But some people find a right balance between work and their lovelife.”

“You’re right. I just don’t know if I’ll find the right person one day.”

Hearing her sentence, your heart tightens in your chest. Natasha just gave you a good reminder. You really have to distance yourself from her. She doesn’t want anything serious and even if she wanted to, you’re not a person she fancies. She looked you right in the eyes and told you she hasn’t found the person worth having a relationship with.

You’re holding back your tears as best as you can while your eyes are on hers. As soon as you realise you won’t be able to do it any longer, you clear your throat before getting up from the bed and picking up your stuff from the floor.

“I…I have to go. I'm going to work early tomorrow.” you inform, putting on your tee-shirt.

“We can go to sleep now if you want.”

“No, I need to get home. I don’t have my stuff here.”

“Can we see each other in the next few days?”

“I don’t think so, I’m quite busy,” you lie, zipping up the fly of your pants. “I… bye.” you stutter.

You don’t give Natasha the time to say goodbye to you and run away from her hotel room. You search for your car keys in your bag as the tears are gathering in your eyes. They start running down your cheeks once you leave the parking lot.

You knew it. You knew it would end up in a heartbreak if you continued and it didn’t stop you. Why do you have such a fragile heart? Why do you have to get attached to people so easily? Why can’t you keep an emotional distance? Natasha seems to handle things just fine so why not you?

Once you’re at home, your tears have stopped though, your cheeks are still wet. You get ready to go to sleep and before you can lay down on your bed, you take your phone. You’re about to open your contacts when you get a text from Natasha.

Message from Natasha to you, 00:30 A.M.:

I hope we’ll have more time next time :)

You don’t have the strength to answer. Reluctantly, you delete the conversation and her number - not without doubting for several seconds. You put down your phone and try to fall asleep despite your heart being broken into a thousand pieces.

Four months have passed since your last time with Natasha and you are more or less over it.

Except if you consider your current state, you could say you’re still hurting. Saying you were drunk would be an understatement. You don't know how many drinks you’ve had but you know if you try to walk, you’ll fall. And all of this because of one damn message. Technically, you could have disregarded it. You don’t have Natasha’s number anymore so the sender was shown as an unknown number and the text wasn’t saying anything special. Her text was a simple and innocent “hey 😘” but it was enough for you to know who it was and to hurt you even more. You felt like you were finally moving on and your reaction proves you it was just a feeling.

You’re alone at the table even if you came with your friend Sarah. She’s currently dancing with a man she just met. At first, she didn’t want to leave you alone, knowing you were drowning your sorrows. However, you promised her she could have fun without feeling guilty whilst you were ordering your sixth drink.

You’re staring at your hands who are holding your drink while you’re lost in your thoughts. You should have never started this fling with Natasha. This sentence is playing continually in your mind since you left the hotel room four months ago.

The day after your last time, you went to meet your friends and you told them how sad you were whilst they were holding you in their arms. Both of them affirmed you had to move on, the very thought you feared. A part of you was hoping they’d encourage you to fight for your potential story with Natasha. Unfortunately, your friends were realistic.

You slowly keep drinking when you feel a presence next to you. Turning your head, you find Natasha and you think maybe you shouldn’t finish your drink. You’re in such an inebriated state that you start having hallucinations. You didn’t think it was possible.

“Hey, how are you?”

Maybe it’s not a hallucination after all. Natasha’s voice seems real.

“Oh, hi!” you exclaim, trying to be casual.

“I take this as it’s not your first drink.”

“Well, it’s possible. Probable.”

“Don’t you think you should go home? Did you come alone?” she questions, searching for one of your friends.

“With Sarah.”

“Do you want me to bring you home?”

“No, I’m gonna wait for Sarah.” you quickly reply, remembering you need to keep your distance.

“She seems busy.” Natasha notes, looking at your friend. “Wait here.”

Natasha walks away from you and goes to Sarah before you can’t stop her. You see her talking and your friend looking at you before reluctantly nodding. Quickly, Natasha comes back to you and takes your drink away from your hands. You’re about to complain when she helps you to stand up.

“Come on, we’re going home.”

“But I have to go home with Sarah.” you oppose.

“I told her I’ll bring you home.” she informs, surprising you.

“She agreed?”

You wouldn’t have thought Sarah would have accepted, knowing she keeps saying how you absolutely have to forget Natasha. Your state must be more pathetic than you thought.

“Considering how drunk you are, we agreed it’d be better to bring you home now. Come on.”

You don’t have the strength to fight back so you give in and follow Natasha in her car. Once you’re buckled up, Natasha starts the vehicle. Your head resting against the car window, you contemplate the night, your mind all fuzzy.

After a few minutes, you tear your gaze away from the night sky and look at Natasha. You admire every inch of her skin whilst she’s focused on the road.

“You really are beautiful.” you state straight away.

“Oh, huh, thanks.” Natasha replies, embarrassed.

“How can you be so beautiful? And that’s not it! You’re also intelligent, funny and you have so many other qualities.”

“Why do I feel like you’re accusing me of something?” she asks, hearing your tone full of reproach.

“Because if you were less perfect it’d be easier.”

“I’m far from perfect. And what do you mean by ‘it’d be easier’?”

“Stop the car.” you retort, feeling the need to throw up.

“What?”

“Stop the car! Pull up!”

She just has the time to stop the car that you’re already outside. You can only take two steps before throwing up. Natasha quickly comes behind you and holds back your hair. Once you’ve finished vomiting, you breathe for a few seconds before standing up, a shameful expression on your face.

“Sorry, that was not sexy.”

“It’s okay. You’re feeling any better?” she worries, examining your face.

“Puking helped.”

“Here.” Natasha says, giving you a tissue. “I think I have a bottle of water in my car and some mints, do you want some?”

“Yes, please.”

While you’re wiping your mouth, Natasha goes to grab the bottle and the mints. As soon as she hands you the bottle, you rinse your mouth before taking a mint. You don’t move for a few minutes, wanting to make sure your stomach won’t empty itself again.

“You feel ready to go?” she questions, stroking your cheek.

“I think so but drive slowly, it’s safer.”

“Tell me if you need to stop again.”

Delicately, Natasha takes your hand and accompanies you to the car. This time, you stay silent the whole ride. You’re focused on the landscape and Natasha doesn’t dare to disturb your mind. As the road goes on, your eyelids get heavier and you end up falling asleep.

The moment Natasha arrives at your place, she slowly wakes you up. You lightly groan before opening your eyes. Natasha helps you to go to your door whilst you’re still asleep on your feet. She brings you to your bathroom where she helps you to get ready to go to bed - and where you can finally brush your teeth. You get into your bed whilst Natasha carefully puts the sheet on you. She’s about to leave when you squeeze her hand.

“Stay.” you mutter with sleepy eyes. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’m staying here, I’m just gonna sleep on the couch.”

“Please, stay with me.” you insist, trying to bring her to you.

“Are you sure about this?”

As a simple answer, you nod. Natasha takes her shoes and her pants off, leaving her only with her underwear and her tee-shirt, before joining you in the bed. Laying down next to you, you search for Natasha’s hand. She understands what you want and puts her hand on your waist, pressing your back against her torso. At her touch, you let go of a peaceful sigh.

“By the way, I really need to give you your jacket back.” you say with a sleepy voice. “I can’t keep it just like I shouldn’t have you this close to me.” you resume, making her frown. “I care about you, you know. More than I should. I like you, Nat’.”

Upon these words, you fall asleep. Behind you, Natasha wonders if she heard you right and more specifically if you meant it. After all, it might just be the effect of alcohol? Though, she can’t stop a smile from forming on her face before holding you closer to her.

The following morning, you wake up with one of the biggest hangovers you’ve ever had. You’ve definitely reached the age where you can’t drink as much without the after-effects. You slowly open your eyes, fearing the daylight might burn them. Thankfully, there is just enough light to see without hurting you. Glancing at your night stand, you find a glass of water and a medicine which you take without an ounce of hesitation after you sit down.

As soon as you put down the glass, the bathroom door opens on Natasha, making your eyebrows furrowed. You don’t recall going home with her. Seeing the panic in your eyes, Natasha gets closer to you with a reassuring smile.

“Nothing happened. I just helped you to get home.”

“Oh, okay. What about Sarah? Does she know…”

“She knows, yes. I warned her before we left. How are you feeling today?” Natasha asks, sitting in front of you in the bed.

“Like I had too much to drink last night.” you laugh and she does the same.

“I can imagine. Do you remember anything about last night?”

“Huh, some parts, but…”

You stop mid-sentence as you try to remember what happened. Some moments are more blurry than the others, however one of them is very clear. Your confession before you fell asleep. The heat gets to your cheeks and your hands get clammy. You hope with your whole heart Natasha didn’t hear anything. However, her pointing look makes you understand your hopes are vain.

“Tell me I didn’t say that. Can we pretend like I didn’t say anything?”

“Why?” she asks, confused.

“Because it’s embarrassing and because it could never work between us.”

“Who said it couldn’t work?”

“You did.” you state as if it was obvious. “You said you didn’t want a serious relationship or a long distance one.”

“Is that why you haven’t been answering my texts?”

“What would have come out of it anyway? Besides breaking my heart.” you say, avoiding her gaze. “I know I told you I didn’t want anything serious when we started seeing each other and it was true at first but I like spending time with you, being next to you, listening to you talk even though I know I shouldn’t. I should have stopped what we had when my feelings changed. I’d understand if you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.” you whisper, tearing up.

“Y/N…” she starts, taking your hand. “I’m sorry for giving you the impression I didn’t want you. I panicked the second I realised my feelings for you. I thought you didn’t want anything serious so I kept my distance whilst staying close to you and in doing so I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry. But I do want a serious relationship with you. No matter if there is the distance, I want to try with you because you’re worth it. I care about you.” Natasha confesses, making you look up at her.

“Don’t say this to make me feel better. I was drunk when I said it and-”

Natasha’s lips are on yours before you can add another word. Surprised, you need a second before kissing her back. Natasha’s hands find their way to your hips whilst yours get lost in her hair. You kiss each other for a few seconds before breaking the kiss. You keep your eyes closed for a bit longer, enjoying the feeling. It might not be your first kiss with Natasha yet, this one feels different from the ones you shared before.

“Do you believe me now when I tell you I like you too or do you need more proof?”

“I think I need more proof, yes.” you smile with heart eyes.

“Well, in that case…” Natasha resumes before pressing her lips on yours once more.

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

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toomanygoldfish · 1 year ago

Text

At five you knew that you wanted a garden. A big garden that had all kinds of vegetables, fruit, and flowers. your grandfather would sit behind you as you plotted out your own garden, spinning tales of him and your grandmother planting their own.

Your grandfather's garden was one of the most magical places in the world. You remember him leading you through the wall of berry bushes, eating the different types of berries as he dutifully explained the care he put onto each bush.

Even as he got older he would still walk with you as you inspected the zucchini, tomatoes, grapes, and strawberries. Picking the rippest and bringing back your bounties to your mother and grandmother.

You would sit with wide eyes trying to take in everything as the adults canned the berries, grapes, and fruits. Watching as they made jam with the leftovers.

Your small little family could often be found behind a farmers market stall on Sundays. A small tired child leaning, with half lidded eyes, into their mothers side.

As your grandparents got older, the garden grew with them. With your grandfather sick, he was unable to take care of the garden. it grew over, it grew until the berry wall was reaching over into the grape trellises. The grape vines reach for safety on the garden wall, blocking the pathway from any wandering children.

Your grandfather passed away when you were ten. The night you found out you ran sobbing into his study. You shoved yourself into the space between the wall and the desk, your spot. You shook with sobs. He left. Why would he leave you?

Grandmother passed away soon after. She was inconsolable after her husband’s death, she was relieved when she fell ill. She was going to be happy with your grandfather. Just happy away from you.

Your mother sold the house. When you were thirteen. She let you keep anything you took. You ended up taking all of his books and his desk. For years the books were in boxes shoved in your closet, holding too many painful memories to open. From your closest in your childhood home they went into a storage complex, as you moved to college.

They only made a reappearance recently, when your fiancé when’s to grab some old paintings to decorate your new home. It was raining outside when you opened the box.

You felt your fiancé behind you as you peeled back the tape.

“Haji, I’m nervous. I haven’t looked at these books and papers since he died.”

“It's alright baby, I’ll be right behind you. You can take a break at any time, no one’s going to judge you” Iwaizumi reassured.

You bit your lip, eyes already welling up with tears as you opened the first book.

You and Iwaizumi had stayed up well into the morning going through every single book and paper in those boxes. The boxes were full of poem books, herbology books, and sketch books. But most sentimental to you were plans of a garden that you had made with your grandfather.

His writing was delicate behind your bold toddler strokes, explaining which plants to plant. Perhaps even better than that were sketches of trellises, benches, flower beds, and landscaping, all meant to surround that initial garden.

You fell asleep in Iwaizumi’s arms with tears staining your cheeks.

You and Hajime got married the next week. As he pulled you away from the crowd he whispered plans into your ear. Plans for a garden to be made. Just the two of you, working together to make the garden of your dreams.

**Time Skip**

Laughter filled your ears as you held a newborn in your arms. You look up to see Iwaizumi lifting your three year old high in the air, her face stained by raspberries, smiling big, and giggling. Her father looked at her like she was his world.

Your toddlers giggling gets louder as he spins around, coming to rest next to you. He sits down next to you, letting your toddler go to waddle over to the flowers. He kisses your cheek, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You love your garden built by hand over the course of three years. Hopefully one day your family will get bigger. But for now you're happy.

#haikyuu × reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x you #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fics #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi imagines #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x y/n #reqs open #the goldfish speak

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v3nusxsky · 10 months ago

Text

Picking up the pieces

*Authors note~ just trying to get back into the swing of things now University is over for the summer. And of course sinful souls is long overdue an update. Queue the angsty chapter *

Trigger warnings~ very toxic lesso, lesso left after sex, abandonment issues (R), aftercare mentioned, heartbreak, depression, panic attack, bad memories, sub space (R) , lesso has a lot of self hate and a rough background

Each sob that forced its way from your exhausted frame broke the blonde principals heart. Leonora leaving would’ve hurt you no matter what, that she knew, but adding in the vulnerability you’d shown before she left meant you were near enough inconsolable. All Larissa could do was administer aftercare and gather you in her arms as your mind and body struggle to catch up. Your cries becoming more frequent as you mumbled phrases like, “why did she go?” “Was I bad mommy?” “I’m sorry” over and over, only worsening your emotional state to the point it was a struggle to force air into your lungs.

Small breaths clawed their way out of your throat as your emotions overflowed into pure panic. Instinctively, you began to panic more, pleading for the other woman to help you, needing more than what you could ever explain in this moment. They say people can die from heartbreak, and this right here would sum that up perfectly. You didn’t want to die, not really, but it seemed that the hold on your lungs just got tighter and tighter until your whole body flopped forward, eyes fluttering to a close, shutting your body down instantly to the soundtrack of Larissa’s terror soaked scream.

Never in her life and all her years at Nevermore had Larissa Weems seen someone in such a state as you were. The extreme emotional stress took a toll on your vulnerable state causing your blood pressure to drop drastically. Instinctively her training kicked in and she moved you gently into the recovery position and made sure to check the time and observe your condition. The longest couple of minutes of the blondes life would forever engrave themselves into her brain and heart.

Incoherent mumbles filled the room allowing the principal to release a breath she wasn’t aware of holding. You’d be okay. She was here for you no matter what. Haphazardly, you threw your hand out in search of the older woman, seeking her warmth and comfort as you roused back to consciousness. “I’m here baby. I’m right here. You’re okay” she reassured as your beautiful dark eyelashes fluttered before revealing your stunning eyes. “You stayed” came your sad little whimper, your eyes darting around the room, “she left didn’t she?”

No response would heal the damage this night caused but Larissa opted to redirect your focus on to her. She was here. Always would be. Leonora walked out yes, but the blonde couldn’t shake that she would be back. Maybe not now, maybe not next week, but she’d come back. You all needed one another in ways neither of you realised. Fate is a tricky beast, one that’s so intricate and beautiful yet holds a price. All you both could do was trust fate would work this situation out for the better. Using the hotel to spend a night away, soaking in eachothers comforting embrace and trying to understand what will happen now.

Everything was blank, until the memory of the door slamming triggering the club owner to break down into an onslaught of angry tears. How could she respond with such anger to you. Clearly red mist clouded her rational thinking and she reacted in such a manner. Yet she had no true memory of what occurred, obscured by blind rage. The rhythmic thumping of the bass vibrating the club seemed to get louder with every silent tear Lesso shred. As it came back in glimpses and flashbacks of how she’d treated the two women who clearly cared for her. Looking at Leonora you wouldn’t think she has ever been through anything rough in life. However, that’s completely far from the truth, underneath that hard shell is the small girl who was abandoned and shunned by the small village she lived in.

A glass of neat whiskey was cradled in her hand as the moment she left the hotel room replayed over and over. Each time something new came to her attention and allowed the self hatred to grow. She was truly evil. How could she? How dare she? She had to make it right if you or Larissa would ever look at her in that way again. Finally being done taking out her personal issues on others and pushing away probably the only good things in her life. She’d never be happy if she couldn’t accept the good in life. That simple realisation resulted in her whiskey being thrown against the door in frustration. How could she be so blind?

Larissa Weems is use to sleeping lightly, it comes with years of being on call for Nevermore students. So it was unsurprising she couldn’t sleep through the constant buzzing coming from your phone, then hers. Only then to be met with what was clearly a drunk Leonora showing remorse and begging for both the women to forgive her. Desperate for another chance. Only half the texts happened to be incoherent. Deciding she didn’t want you wake up yet she shot a text to your group chat stating one simple thing. “Drunk words are sober thoughts my dear”

A reply. She replied. Wait who? Larissa. Immediately Leonora began fumbling to press the call button and after two rings the blonde principal answered. From here she listened as the raven haired woman ranted and rambled out slurred apologise and promises to be better, ending the call with a promise to all talk tomorrow. For now sleep and a glass of water was in order.

Your feelings on the matter were definitely muddled when Larissa approached the subject. Yet with a phone call to lesso of your own you agreed to meet up as long as you had some proof the woman wouldn’t hurt either of you again, a goal to work too allowing you all to sort out your emotions and ideas of where to go from here.

#sinful souls series #v3nusxsky sinful souls #sinful souls #sinful souls angst #lesso x Larissa x reader #reader x Larissa x lesso

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