#Manifest My Ex Boyfriend Back | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mononijikayu · 17 days ago

Text

toxic till the end — fushiguro toji.

“You can’t fix everything. You should know that.” you replied, your words trembling as they left your lips. “I don’t know if I can ever forget that.” He nodded slowly, his expression one of deep regret. “I know.” Silence grew once more between the two of you. You could feel the tears pricking your eyes harshly. And you could tell that he was noticing as much as you.

GENRE: alternate universe - actor/s au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, nsfw, r-18, smut, making out, biting, scratching, kissing, rough sex, p-i-v sex, fingering (female receiving), creampie, pet names (babe, etc....), age gap (reader is late 20s, toji is mid 30s) love, humor, light-hearted, long-term relationship, secret relationship, cheating, break-up, falling out of love, toxic relationship, drama, depression, grief, sexual intercourse, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of naked bodies, depiction of cheating, depiction of grief, depiction of depression, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of sexual intercourse, actor! toji, actor! reader;

WORD COUNT: 15k words

NOTE: i know i disappeared for almost a week and im really sorry,,,,,i just wasn't feeling well and in the middle of that - i was also busy. i genuinely wanted to publish something but there were things that came up - including me finishing a commission. and also worrying about uni stuff. its a really long one, i still have stuff to edit for bonus cuts for that. i am really sorry but i come back with a fury with toji!!! anyway, i hope my absence didnt make yall leave. enjoy and i love yall :']

masterlist

if you want to, tip!

══════════════════

YOU NEVER LIKED BEING PERCEIVED. Even if you were an actor, you didn’t want to be. You absolutely hated the attention, you hated having to be known to people you didn’t know on the street.

He knew that. Which is why you never allowed yourself to go on dates with him in that local restaurant. Or ever allow yourself to be comfortable kissing him, knowing paparazzis were following you both.

But he was loud about his love for you. He always has been. It was obvious when he looked at you during press tours. It was obvious when he heard the sound of your name and smiled like it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

He was never good at hiding the fact that he was in love. That’s just how it was with loving a man so magnetic and passionate as him. He tried to convince you that he wanted the world to know.

Yet, you weren’t prepared to do that. You weren’t prepared for the world to know, for the world to be in your bed. You didn’t want everyone to know that you were his, because you were scared. You were scared of what could happen.

You’ve gone through the trauma of it before, your own ex–boyfriend announcing the break–up before you even knew about the break up. And all the people that hated you, for making him sad. For all those fantasies in their head of all the things you did wrong. You were frightful that it would repeat all over again.

Perhaps he got tired of that. Perhaps he got tired of waiting. Maybe he got tired of you. And you were scared of that. You were scared that this was the case.

You were horrified that he would do the same thing like that ex-boyfriend you loved before. You didn’t want to manifest it. But you also didn’t make a move. You were right. He would get tired of you. You made it this way. You let this happen.

The apartment was eerily silent, the kind of silence that pressed down on you, making every breath feel heavier. You stood in the living room, arms crossed, heart racing as you waited for Toji to come home. He had a late night shoot, he told you. They’d extended the shoot, because of the weather. That’s what he said in the next text. He won’t be home until today.

But as you waited home, all that plagued your mind was the conversation with your friend this morning. You felt sick as the words repeated over the phone.

It won’t go away, not even when you want it to. It remained ever so present, still echoing, hammering deep in your mind. It was as if the weight of her words settled deep in your chest like a knife would.

"I saw Toji last night." she had said, her voice hesitant. "He was with someone else."

“What….what do you mean by that?” You muttered back at her, still reeling from the words that slipped from her mouth. “Surely it was just another cast member—”

“They were kissing, babes.” She told you earnestly, yet you could tell she was having a hard time with it. She knew that everything she’s saying was breaking your heart. “I’m so sorry.”

“No…no, thank you for telling me.”

You hung up after that. You didn’t know what else to say. What could you have said that could have made it any better? You couldn’t think of anything. All that remained were the years of memories together, now scattered across that empty space where love should be.

The betrayal, the doubt, and the fear had been building in that space where you should feel your love for him. A place where it is still there, that love, bleeding and tattered by all that grief that comes with mourning the relationship. And now, standing here in the place you both called home, it felt like you were about to explode.

The door clicked open just around lunch time. You had remembered you had given Toji a separate key for your house. Just as you had a key for his. You didn’t want to see him just yet. Not right now. Fushiguro Toji stepped in, face covered by the levelling of his cap. His usual confident demeanor clouded by an unease you hadn’t seen before. He looked at you, the tension in the air immediately palpable.

Babe, didn’t know you’d be awake." he said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

"You said you’d never do that to me." you replied, your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and anger. “You said you wouldn’t be like him.”

He nodded, closing the door behind him. "Alright. What’s going on?"

"I know you were with someone else last night, and you kissed her. My friend saw you." you spat, your voice breaking with the anger and pain you kept hidden. "How could you do this? How could you betray me like that?"

His eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked caught off guard. Then his expression hardened. "It’s not what you think."

"Not what I think?" you repeated, your voice rising. "Then explain it to me, Toji. Explain why you were out with someone else while I was here, thinking everything was fine."

"I was tired, okay?" he snapped back, his voice louder now, the frustration evident. "Tired of feeling like I’m not enough, like I’m just waiting for you to trust me."

“How long has it been?” You asked him. “How long have you and your lover been going behind my back?”

“Babe—”

“How long?”

He looked away, the contorting guilt bellowing all over his face. This was a look you had seen time and time again. “A few months.”

"A few months." You repeated.

“Yes, but it was casual hook ups and she has a boyfriend too—”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” you shouted, tears streaming down your face. "You think that’s going to fix anything?"

"I didn’t plan for it to happen." he said, his voice softening, but the damage was done. "I was just... I felt alone."

"You felt alone?" you repeated, the hurt in your voice cutting through the air. "What about me, Toji? Do you have any idea how alone I’ve felt, wondering if you’d get tired of me, if you’d leave me like everyone else has?"

He took a step closer, his expression filled with regret. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"But you did." you whispered, the fight leaving your body as the weight of it all pressed down on you. "God, I just….is it my fault? Is it because I have a busy schedule? Or is it just because I haven’t allowed the world to know about you? And you were desperate to be seen with someone?”

He shook his head. “That’s not the case.”

“It seems to look like it.” You laughed to yourself, almost mad in the thought of your grief. “You did say she had a boyfriend. I doubt that would have changed much, if she knew that you belonged to someone.”

He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours, filled with a regret that almost made your heart ache. His voice, usually so steady, trembled with sincerity. "Please, let’s talk about this. I can make this right."

The words hung in the air, heavy and bittersweet. You wanted to believe him, to let those words soothe the rawness inside you. But they felt too late, like a balm for wounds already too deep. You shook your head, the fight draining from your body as the weight of it all pressed down on you.

"You cheated on me. So brazenly." you whispered, your voice barely audible, laced with pain. "Just like he has. Just like every other man I’ve ever let into my life." The admission stung, the truth of it settling in your chest like a stone.

“Babe…..”

"Maybe you were just another number, another ex."

His face twisted in anguish, his hands clenching at his sides. "Babe, please, listen to me—"

“I’ve listened to you long enough.” Your voice was soft but firm, carrying the finality of a decision made. Tears blurred your vision, hot and relentless, streaking down your cheeks. “Just... leave your keys. I’m going. I can’t stand to look at you or stay with you here.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Toji's gaze faltered, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something more, to plead, to explain. But no words came. Slowly, he reached into his pocket, pulling out the keys that once symbolized shared moments, shared spaces, and placed them gently on the table.

“I’m sorry.” he said, his voice barely a whisper, a final echo of the love that had once been so vibrant between you.

You didn’t respond. There was nothing left to say. You turned, each step feeling heavier than the last as you walked away, leaving behind the remnants of a relationship that had once held so much promise. The door clicked shut behind you, the sound resonating like a chapter closing.

After that, he took all his stuff from your place and left. Even the keys. And you were glad he did. You were glad he wasn’t there. You blocked his number, you told your friends to stop relaying any messages from him he sent. You even cancelled any appearances with him for work, especially those for the Japanese leg of the press tour for Jujutsu Kaisen.

And then you disappeared, as though you didn’t exist.

You moved apartments, you didn’t tell anyone where you were. Only your manager knew, just so you could make it easier for her to pick you up for work schedules when you start doing them again. And changed phones and deleted your social media presence. You just wanted to be alone. You wanted to process the death of a seven year relationship.

Over half a year later, they start to see you again. The last they had seen you, you were still red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. You had explained that you dealt with some personal loss, which wasn’t untrue. People had speculations, they always have. But you didn’t want to admit to anything. You just let them have their fun and you let yourself have your grief.

The mirror had become a stranger for a while, reflecting someone you barely recognized, a shadow of the person you once were with Toji. The truest you had been yourself was with him. And now you have lost that. You had lost the version of yourself you had loved so dearly. And you hated how that too had revolved around him. Your most beloved life was him.

You hadn't planned on disappearing, not really. But each day felt heavier, each step harder to take, until retreating into the quiet solace of your loneliness and grief became the only thing you could manage.

And everyone in your agency was understanding of that. You haven’t truly taken a break in your entire career. And with that burn out, as much as the heartache, you had to have your time to yourself.

Little by little, you started to pick yourself up from the ruins of the failed relationship. Little by little you found yourself able to breathe again, even though you were still against the crashing waves of pain. At the very least there was some progress. At least you were getting somewhere.

Though, you couldn’t escape him. How could you, when he was so beloved by the world? Every corner of your world seemed to echo with the ghost of him. His face, smiling and confident, stared down at you from every billboard, a constant reminder of what you had lost years of your life to. Years you were the prettiest to yourself.

His voice filled the airwaves, every interview a cruel twist of fate, his laughter a haunting melody that played on repeat in your mind. Fushiguro Toji. His name was a bittersweet whisper, both a comfort and a curse, lingering in the recesses of your heart.

No one else knew that you had broken up. It was a secret you held close, it was a grief that belonged to you and only you. It was a wound too fresh and raw to expose to the world.

You hadn’t found the courage to say anything, convinced that speaking it aloud would make it all too real. Besides, you believed you didn’t have to explain yourself to anyone. Your pain was yours alone, a private storm that no one else could weather.

As you walked through the winding streets of Tokyo, the city lights blurred against your vision, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. The vibrant energy of the city felt distant, a stark contrast to the numbness that enveloped you. The world moved on, oblivious to the turmoil within you.

No one understood what you felt. No one probably ever would. It wasn’t just the loss of a relationship; it was the loss of a dream, a shared future that had unraveled before your eyes. The quiet moments, the laughter, the unspoken promises. They were all gone, leaving behind an emptiness that you didn’t know how to fill.

You kept walking, the sounds of the city fading into the background, your mind a whirlwind of memories and emotions. The ache in your chest was a constant reminder of what once was, and what could never be again. But even in the midst of the pain, you knew you couldn’t stay hidden forever. Life was waiting, and somehow, you had to find a way to live it again.

The door to your apartment closed behind you with a soft click, but the silence inside felt deafening. You slipped off your shoes and let your bag fall to the floor, the weight of the day pressing heavily on your shoulders. The familiar surroundings felt foreign now, as if the air itself had shifted, carrying the remnants of memories you weren’t ready to face.

You wandered through the small space, your eyes scanning the room aimlessly. You knew you should do something, anything to distract yourself. So you started cleaning, hoping the mundane task would occupy your mind. You wiped down the counters, straightened the cushions, and folded the laundry. But every movement felt mechanical, your thoughts drifting back to him.

Then you saw it—his jacket. Your mouth went agape at the sight of it. It hung innocuously by the door, just as it always had when he would visit your apartment. You didn’t know you still had it, from the move. You didn’t know the movers packed it too. He didn’t take it with him when he left the house.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. It was the same jacket he had worn countless times, the one that carried his scent, a mixture of cologne and something uniquely him. Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers grazing the fabric.

The moment you touched it, the floodgates opened. The tears came fast and uncontrollable, pouring down your face as you clutched the jacket to your chest. You sank to the floor, the weight of your sorrow too much to bear.

The scent of him enveloped you, bringing back a rush of memories. His arms around you, his laugh, the way he would kiss your forehead when you were feeling down.

You cried for everything you had lost. For the love you had poured into a man who could never fully be yours. A man older, with a life that always seemed just out of reach. A man who cherished his independence, who was never truly tethered to you in the way you had hoped. You had given him your prettiest years, the best of yourself, only to be left with the pieces of a broken heart.

Tomorrow was the shoot, and you knew you had to pull yourself together. The contract was signed long before the breakup, back when you thought working together would be another way to share your dreams, your passions, your lives. Now, it was the weight pulling you into a reality you weren’t ready to face.

Tonight, the pain was too fresh, too overwhelming. How could you stop crying when every corner of your life was a reminder of him? When his presence still lingered in the smallest things, like a ghost haunting the spaces you once shared?

You stayed there, curled on the floor, clutching the jacket as the tears continued to fall. It wasn’t just about losing him. It was about losing the future you had imagined, the dreams you had built together.

And as the night stretched on, you let yourself grieve, knowing that somehow, you had to find the strength to face tomorrow. But for now, all you could do was cry.

══════════════════

MORNING ALWAYS DOES COME. And when it does, you try to make the effort to still stand on your own two toes. When the morning came, exhausted and numb, there you were facing the inevitable.

You bowed to everyone, greeting them with as much enthusiasm as you could muster. You smiled as though there was no problem at all. Chattered and sat there on the make–up chair like nothing had happened. As if there was nothing at all that shattered you to nothing.

The studio lights felt harsher than you remembered, their unforgiving brightness illuminating every inch of the set—and every crack in your heart. It was as if they knew, as if they were exposing the rawness inside you, the pain you had tried so hard to bury. The bustling crew moved around you, adjusting cameras, checking props, but their chatter seemed distant, muffled by the storm in your mind.

You couldn’t help but feel nervous, your hands trembling ever so slightly. It felt strange, almost surreal, like this was your first time stepping in front of the camera. You had done this a hundred times before, but today was different.

Today, you were a different person. The warmth of reassurance that once came from a simple touch, his hand brushing against yours, his quiet, steady presence—was gone. You were on your own now, and the weight of that reality pressed down on you like a heavy cloak.

You swallowed hard, the bile rising in your throat as the familiar sting of tears threatened to break free. Your muscles tensed, contorting as you fought the overwhelming urge to let go, to release the tears that had been building up inside you. But you didn’t. You wouldn’t. You couldn’t let yourself fall apart here, not now.

Not now, you repeat to yourself, a mantra you clung to with every ounce of strength you had left. You didn’t want it. You didn’t want the tears, the loneliness, the pain. You didn’t need it. You had told yourself this over and over again. You didn’t need to feel this, not here, not under the glaring scrutiny of the studio lights and the watchful eyes of everyone around you.

Your breaths came in shallow, shaky gulps as you forced yourself to focus, to channel everything into the character you were about to portray. The lines blurred between the role you played and the person you were, but you clung to that thin line of separation, hoping it would hold. This was your sanctuary, your escape. If you could just hold on a little longer, maybe the pain wouldn’t consume you.

You could do this, you told yourself.

You could survive this, you know you could.

It’s only for a few weeks of this misery.

But as you lifted your eyes, you saw him again.

And all that resolve dissolved almost instantly.

Fushiguro Toji stood across the room, talking to the director, his usual charm evident in the way his shoulders shook with laughter. The sound of it, rich and familiar, carried across the set, drawing the attention of those nearby. He looked relaxed, his posture loose, his smile easy. He seemed to be in happy spirits, more than the last time you saw him.

It was a sharp contrast to the last memory you had of him—tense, conflicted, the weight of your shared history etched into every line of his face. But now, he seemed lighter, as if the burden of your breakup had lifted from his shoulders. The sight of him like this stirred a mix of emotions within you. Jealousy, sadness, and an aching longing you tried to suppress.

You watched from a distance, your gaze lingering longer than you intended. It was painful, seeing him so carefree, as if nothing had changed, as if the past weeks hadn’t unraveled you both. But there he was, moving through the room with an ease that seemed effortless, while you struggled to keep your composure.

The director clapped him on the back, and Toji’s laugh echoed again, brighter this time. You quickly averted your eyes, pretending to busy yourself with your script, but the image of him remained imprinted in your mind. It was harder than you thought it would be, being in the same space, breathing the same air, while feeling worlds apart.

For a moment, you wondered if he had truly moved on, or if this was just a façade, a mask to hide whatever he might still be feeling. But you pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter. What mattered now was surviving this day, this scene, and the countless others that would follow. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable interaction. You had to face him eventually.

The director’s voice cut through the low hum of the studio, calling for everyone to take their places. “Alright, let’s get started! Everyone, introduce yourselves before we begin.”

You took a deep breath, forcing your shoulders to relax as you stepped forward with the rest of the cast. The weight of the moment pressed heavily on your chest, but you reminded yourself to stay calm, to keep it together.

Your eyes, however, betrayed you, flickering towards Toji for the briefest second before you snapped them away, focusing instead on a point somewhere beyond him. You were a professional. You had done this countless times before. You had been through worse—or so you told yourself. You could do this. You had to do this.

As the introductions began, your turn loomed closer. Each name and face passed by in a blur until the spotlight shifted to you. You bowed to each and every one, smiling at them as best you could even though you couldn’t process it all just yet.

“Hello, nice to meet you all!” you said, introducing yourself. Your voice is steady despite the storm within. “It’s great to be working with everyone.”

Your words were polite, professional, and utterly detached. At least you notice it. But the others didn’t seem to. You could see the blur in all their smiles towards you, shining in a way you couldn’t recognize. You barely registered the murmured responses of the others, your focus pinned on keeping your composure. Then it was Toji’s turn.

He stepped forward, his presence commanding as always. “Fushiguro Toji.” he said, his voice carrying effortlessly across the room. There was a familiar warmth in his tone, one that made your heart clench. “Looking forward to working with all of you.”

His blue–green eyes flicked to you, just for a moment, but it was enough to send a ripple of tension through your body. You held his gaze for a heartbeat longer than you intended, before quickly looking away, pretending to be engrossed in the script in your hands.

The director clapped his hands together, breaking the moment. “Alright, let’s dive into it! Remember, the first scene is a heavy scene, so take your time and feel it out. Call for a cut any time you want to. So let’s start, like we rehearsed.”

You nodded at the director. Everyone moved to their places, and you found yourself standing just a few feet away from Toji. The air between you felt charged, the unspoken history hanging like a shadow over the set. He glanced at you, his expression unreadable.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost cautious.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. “Yeah.” you murmured, your eyes fixed on the floor.

Toji hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but the director called for action, and just like that, you were thrust into the scene. The lines between fiction and reality blurred once again, and all you could do was hold on and hope you made it through without falling apart.

As the cameras rolled and the scene began, you pushed everything else aside, locking the pain away in a corner of your heart. The studio lights continued to shine, harsh and unrelenting, but you stood your ground. You didn’t need your tears. You didn’t need your loneliness. All you needed was to make it through this moment. And somehow, you would.

The first scene couldn’t have been more ironic if the universe had written it itself. A husband and wife, embroiled in a bitter argument, their marriage on the brink of collapse. Every word in the script seemed like a cruel reflection of your own reality. The dialogue cut too close, each line a dagger, the emotions too raw to ignore.

You had told yourself you could handle it, that you could compartmentalize the character’s turmoil from your own. But as the words spilled from your lips, it felt as if the character had seized control of your body, dragging all your buried feelings to the surface, laying them bare for everyone to see.

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?” you shouted, your voice cracking with the weight of suppressed emotion. The accusation wasn’t just a line; it was a scream from your heart. “You’re always so wrapped up in your own world! What about us? What about me?”

The tears that pricked your eyes weren’t from the script. They were your own, threatening to fall, the pain of the breakup echoing in every syllable. Across from you, Toji’s eyes darkened, his expression hardening as he stepped into his character. His voice, sharp and filled with a familiar bitterness, mirrored your own anguish.

“Don’t act like I’m the only one who made mistakes!” he shot back, his tone rising, the frustration palpable. “You think it’s easy, carrying the weight of everything? Maybe if you tried to understand instead of blame—”

“Understand?” you interrupted, your voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears. The sting in your eyes blurred your vision, but you pressed on. “I’ve tried! I’ve given everything, and it’s never enough for you!”

The room felt electric, the tension between you both so thick it was as if the air itself might shatter under the weight of it. Each word hung in the air, resonating with a truth neither of you could ignore.

The director’s voice called out, “Cut! Let’s take a moment.”

The tension didn’t dissipate with the end of the scene. It lingered, heavy and suffocating, as if the raw emotions couldn’t be contained by the simple call for a break. You stood there, your chest heaving with the effort of keeping your tears at bay, your hands clenched into fists at your sides.

Toji remained across from you, his jaw tight, his eyes still locked onto yours. For a moment, neither of you moved, as if frozen in the aftermath of the words that had been exchanged—not just between the characters, but between the two of you.

You stood frozen, your chest heaving as the emotions coursed through you. Toji turned to face you, his expression unreadable. You saw him take a step toward you, and panic clawed at your chest, but you forced yourself to stay put. Running away wouldn’t solve anything. You had to face this, face him.

“Hey.” Toji said softly, his voice gentler than it had been during the scene. “Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, nodding even though your body betrayed you with a slight tremble. “Yeah. Just… caught me off guard, that’s all.”

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to gauge how much of the scene was acting and how much was real. “It felt real.” he admitted, his tone cautious. “Too real.”

“Yeah.” You murmured, not looking at him. You didn’t want to. You didn’t know if you were prepared to just yet.

The tension between you and Toji was palpable, thick like fog, clouding every inch of the set. You stood there, heart pounding, as the reality of the situation settled deeper into your bones. This was not just a fleeting moment; this was going to be every day, side by side, pretending like everything was fine when it was far from it.

Toji shifted on his feet, his usual confidence seemingly faltering as he took in your guarded expression. “I didn’t think you’d come today.” he admitted, his voice lower, more vulnerable than you remembered. “Thought you’d call in sick.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I have a job to do.” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Besides….you showed up too.”

Silence befell the two of you after those words. You started fidgeting with your fingers, something you would do when you were nervous. As you feel your throat closed up, you purse your lips into a flat line. You thought it was time to walk away, to take your time away from him before the next take.

Finally, Toji broke the silence, stepping closer, his voice lower but no less intense. “It was just acting.” he said, his tone softer, almost vulnerable. “I’m sorry for my tone.”

You swallowed hard, your throat constricting. “So was I.” You whispered, your voice barely audible.

The tears you had been holding back now threatened to spill over, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him. Toji’s gaze grew softer as he looked at you, the anger from the take earlier melting into something more akin to sorrow. Something you think you were more familiar with.

“I didn’t want things to end that way.” He admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Can we not talk about it—”

“But I want to.” He tells you in his retort, abruptly cutting you off. “I need to. I want to fix everything.”

“You can’t fix everything. You should know that.” you replied, your words trembling as they left your lips. “I don’t know if I can ever forget that.”

He nodded slowly, his expression one of deep regret. “I know.”

Silence grew once more between the two of you.

You could feel the tears pricking your eyes harshly.

And you could tell that he was noticing as much as you.

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting yours again. “I’m glad you’re here….at least.” he said quietly, sincerity lacing his words. “I know it’s hard, but maybe… maybe we can find a way to make this work.”

You almost laughed, the irony of it all hitting you. “Make this work?” you repeated, your voice tinged with disbelief. “You mean like how we were supposed to make us work?”

Toji winced, the pain in your words cutting through him. “I didn’t mean it like that, you know that.” he said softly. “Look, I….I know I hurt you. I know things didn’t go the way we wanted. But this project… it’s important to both of us. Can we at least try to be civil? For the sake of the work?”

You bit your lip, torn between the urge to lash out and the need to maintain some semblance of professionalism. “Civil.” you echoed, testing the word on your tongue. “I guess we can try.”

He offered a small, hesitant smile. “Thank you.”

A tense silence settled again before he spoke once more. “Look, I don’t want to make things harder than they already are. If you need space, I’ll give it to you. Just... don’t shut me out completely.”

Your heart ached at his words, but you forced yourself to stay composed. “Space would be good.” you agreed, your voice firmer now. “Let’s just focus on the work. That’s all we need to do.”

Toji nodded, accepting your terms. “Okay. Work it is.”

The director called for everyone to reset for the next take, but the two of you remained locked in place, the world around you fading into the background. It was a moment of unspoken understanding, a shared pain that neither of you could fully articulate. As the crew moved around you, preparing for the next shot, Toji took a step back, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer.

“Let’s get through this.” he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that spoke of more than just the scene ahead. “We owe it to ourselves.”

You nodded, unable to speak, and turned away. Your assistant handed you the script once again and you found yourself trying to focus on the script in your hands. The show had to go on, but the lines between fiction and reality had never felt so blurred.

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, a mix of relief and sorrow washing over you. This was your new reality. It probably always will, when people like your chemistry together.

You are going to be stuck working side by side with the man who broke your heart. But as you watched him go, you realized something: you weren’t the same person you were before. You had been broken, yes, but you were also stronger now.

You knew that. And maybe, just maybe, that strength would see you through this. You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders. The day had only just begun. But you were praying that he doesn’t look at you with that look in his eyes again.

══════════════════

DAYS ON SET BECAME A NEW STANDARD OF LIVING. You haven’t been sure you were used to it yet after a long time away, but you were sure about to get there. At least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself.

As the days turned into weeks, the rhythm of the shoot became oddly familiar. Early morning calls, practice for heavy scenes, dress rehearsal, the chaos of set preparation, and the god awful long night to morning shoots.

This was the relentless cycle of takes transformed into your new daily standard routine. You and Toji fell into an unspoken pattern between the two of you, though. But you had to be, if you wanted to keep your jobs. It was a strange thing to witness, if one was being honest. It took a lot of effort to memorize the dance. And every bit of that was equal parts effortless and exhausting.

On the surface, you were professionals—co-workers delivering lines, executing roles, keeping up appearances. Especially him, he was your senpai too. He was good at maintaining that mask on him more than you were.

But beneath the polished veneer, tension simmered, weaving itself into every glance, every exchange, every shared silence. You could tell just by looking at his eyes. No one else but you could do that, after all.

The studio became your shared battlefield, its walls echoing with unspoken words. You threw yourself into the work, burying raw emotions beneath layers of performance day after day.

But when the director yelled for the cut, you knew that the veil dropped most instantaneously. And that always leaves you vulnerable to the presence of the man who had once been your everything.

Fushiguro Toji was close enough to touch yet felt a world away from you. And you were certain that he felt the same way about you too. After all, you had a wall he couldn’t reach. You wouldn’t let him reach it. There was no way for him to know what to do with you.

But this doesn’t stop you from looking. Nor did it stop him from doing the same thing. You had noticed everything about him and what he does. It was obvious how hard it is to be exes on set. It was even harder when you were soulmates.

There was the slight hesitation in his laugh, the way his smile sometimes faltered at the edges. He was both familiar and foreign, a stranger wearing a face you had loved. Everything about him was something you knew and everything about him was something that was a mystery. It was a really intriguing thing. And that was the worst thing of all. You were intrigued about the man you loved and hated all at once.

Conversations were sparse at first, clinical and focused on the work. You both clung to professionalism like a lifeline, avoiding anything that might hint at the depth of your shared history. The lines were clear: scenes, blocking, timing, delivery. Anything beyond that was dangerous territory.

You were determined to keep things professional, to relegate your relationship to the sterile confines of work. But no matter how hard you tried, the walls you’d built between yourselves began to splinter under the weight of the unspoken.

The first crack came during a late-night shoot. The two of you stood under the harsh glow of the heavy set lights, running through lines while the crew adjusted the framing. Toji, leaning casually against a prop table, smirked at a mistake you made while stumbling over a particularly convoluted line.

“That’s the third time now.” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear. There was a teasing edge to it, but it was softer than you remembered.

You shot him a sharp look. “Thanks for keeping count.” you replied, your tone clipped, though your lips twitched against your will.

His smirk widened, but there was no malice in it, just a faint warmth. “You’re welcome. I thought I’d help out since you seem… preoccupied.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing him off. “Preoccupied with carrying this scene, maybe.”

The banter was fleeting, but it lingered in the air long after the cameras rolled again. Once again, you did the best you could and continued to bring your spirits up. As the night progressed, the director started to feel a little bit more satisfied with one or two shots. And that had at least allowed you the hope of going to sleep soon.

Later, during one of the scene changes, you caught him watching you as you adjusted your new costume. He didn’t look away quickly enough, and your eyes met. For a moment, the distance between you felt less insurmountable, the years of hurt and silence shrinking into the space of a single glance. That glance was the longest moment of your life, you were sure.

“What?” you asked, a touch defensive, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated, as if debating whether to respond, then shrugged. “Nothing. You just… remind me of something.”

You wanted to press him, to ask what he meant, but the vulnerability in his expression stopped you. His eyes, usually so guarded, were uncharacteristically soft, as if he was on the verge of saying something he couldn’t quite bring himself to voice.

Instead of pushing, you turned back to the mirror, pretending not to notice the way his gaze lingered, tracing the reflection of your face as though searching for something. It was recognition, understanding, forgiveness.

But then you caught yourself. The silence was becoming unbearable, the air between you thick with things neither of you dared to say. You cleared your throat, the sound breaking the tension like a sharp crack in the stillness.

“We should start rehearsing.” you said, your voice steady, though your heart was racing. “For the scene.”

For a moment, Toji didn’t respond. He seemed to weigh your words, as though deciding whether to challenge the sudden shift or let it go. Finally, he tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing in quiet disbelief.

“...Are you comfortable doing that with me?” he asked, his tone careful, hesitant. It wasn’t the confident Toji you remembered, the one who always seemed so sure of himself, even when everything around him was chaotic. This was different—softer, almost unsure.

You hesitated, the question throwing you off balance. There was a part of you that wanted to lash out, to let him know how much his presence still affected you, how rehearsing with him wasn’t just work. But you swallowed it down, forcing yourself to focus on the here and now.

“Yeah, why not?” you replied, shrugging as though it didn’t matter. Your tone was light, almost dismissive, but the tension in your voice betrayed you.

Toji’s lips twitched, not quite a smile but not entirely neutral either. “Why not, huh….” he echoed softly, more to himself than to you. He took a step closer, crossing into your personal space but stopping just short of overstepping.

“Okay.” he said finally, his voice steady now, though his eyes still carried that flicker of something unresolved. “Let’s rehearse.”

You nodded, turning away from the mirror and moving toward the small table where the script sat. You busied yourself with flipping through the pages, anything to avoid looking at him directly. But you knew, you could feel it — he was looking at you and only you.

As you both settled into the familiar rhythm of line-reading, the tension between you didn’t fade entirely, but it softened, shaped by the shared focus on the work. There were moments, brief but poignant, where you caught glimpses of the man you had once known in the way he delivered a line or the way he watched you deliver yours.

Yet you knew when you said these things, you knew it would be bad. You knew they would hit too close to home, too personal. And that was what happened. When the two of you were finally shooting the emotional scene, it was more real than your practice and perhaps, that’s what fueled your acting.

The dialogue was heavy, charged with the kind of raw emotion that mirrored your real-life tension a little too closely. It was a confrontation scene this time around—a breaking point between two lovers teetering on the edge of collapse. As you delivered the lines you had practiced, the words felt too personal, too sharp, cutting into wounds that hadn’t fully healed. And you hated it.

“That’s all you ever do, isn’t it?” your character accused, the anger in your voice reverberating through the silent set. “You push people away the second they get too close. You think it’s easier to walk away than to face what you’ve done.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel every pair of eyes in the room on you, the weight of the moment pressing down like a vice. But your focus was on Toji.

He stood across from you, his character’s guilt written across his face, but there was something else there—something unspoken that made your chest tighten. Somehow, it was his real face. Somehow, it was his truest blossom of regret.

The director called for a break, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. The crew scattered, murmuring amongst themselves, but the energy in the room remained electric, charged with the kind of intensity that couldn’t simply be switched off.

You turned away quickly, grabbing a water bottle from the craft table. Your hands were trembling slightly, your pulse still racing. You focused on the coolness of the bottle against your skin, anything to ground yourself, to pull you out of the emotional spiral the scene had sent you into.

“You okay?” Toji’s voice came from behind you, quiet but insistent.

You stiffened, refusing to turn around. “I’m fine. Just… in the scene.”

“Right.” he said, but there was a note of skepticism in his voice. “You sure that’s all it is?”

Something in his tone made you snap. You spun around to face him, your eyes blazing. “Why? Do you think I’m talking about you?”

Toji’s jaw tightened, his posture rigid. For a moment, his mask of calm slipped, and the vulnerability beneath it was laid bare. “I don’t know.” he said, his voice low and even. “Are you?”

The question hung between you, the weight of it almost unbearable. His gaze locked onto yours, unflinching, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur, leaving just the two of you standing there, raw and exposed.

“What if I was?” you shot back, your voice quieter now, but no less sharp. “Would it even matter?”

His lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, neither of you willing to back down, yet both too afraid to fully engage. Before either of you could break the impasse, a crew member approached, clipboard in hand.

“We’re resetting for the next take.” they announced, oblivious to the charged atmosphere. “Five minutes.”

You tore your gaze away from Toji, nodding curtly at the crew member and quietly thanked them before turning on your heel and walking away. Your footsteps echoed in the cavernous studio, each one feeling heavier than the last.

As you retreated to the corner of the set, you could feel Toji’s eyes on you, his presence lingering like a ghost. Even as the crew busied themselves with preparations and the director barked instructions, the tension between you remained, an invisible thread pulling tauter with every passing moment.

You leaned against a prop, exhaling shakily, trying to center yourself. The scene was over, but the emotions it had stirred up were still thrumming through your veins. And as much as you tried to tell yourself otherwise, you knew this wasn’t just about the script. This was about the two of you—about all the things you’d left unsaid and all the wounds that still refused to heal.

══════════════════

YOU HADN’T READ THE NEXT PART OF THE SCRIPT YET. You had been too emotionally exhausted about what you had been doing for work that you had put off reading the script. Which was fine, you were able to memorize things easily when you see it long enough. That’s why you have this sort of career in the first place.

So the next morning, you arrived on set early with your manager. You greeted everyone as you were clutching your script tightly in your hands. Your manager quickly greeted everyone and went to you, before telling you that he’ll get you both coffee from the coffee truck. You nodded at her, telling her that you’ll just be sitting on the trailer.

It had become a habit, one you told yourself was about preparation — ‘it will work out’; but deep down you knew it was also a way to mentally brace yourself for whatever the day might bring. You have told yourself that phrase for years now, but perhaps, it didn’t hit as hard as it has now. Much more because you were working with the man you were in a relationship with for quite a lot of years.

Working with Fushiguro Toji was a constant balancing act, teetering on the edge of professionalism and the unresolved tension that hung between you like a storm cloud storming away with its raging thunder and its hurling battering rains. That was just what it was, when you were working with someone you still had unresolved issues with.

You settled into your usual corner, flipping through the script for the day’s scenes. You moved to take the pen from your bag, and started highlighting things you wanted to work on and things you wanted to ask for feedback from the director. As you skimmed the pages, your eyes caught on a block of stage directions that made your stomach drop. A part you hadn’t seen just yet.

Hiruka steps closer to Suzaku, their faces just barely inches apart. The tension between them is palpable, one that pushes them together like gravity and after a beat, they kiss.

Your mouth went agape at what you had just read. This was not what you expected. You clutched your heart, feeling how it skipped a beat. For a moment, you just stared at the words, as if doing so would somehow make them disappear. But they didn’t. The scene was there, in black and white, unavoidable.

"Everything okay?" a voice broke through your thoughts. One of the assistant directors, passing by with a clipboard, glanced at you with mild concern.

You forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah. Just going over the script.”

She nodded, already distracted by another crew member waving her down, and you exhaled slowly, your mind racing. You haven't kissed Toji since… well, since before everything had fallen apart.

The idea of doing it now, even in character, felt like reopening a wound you’d barely managed to scab over. Even though it had been six, seven months since the breakup, the thought still wasn’t something you had gotten used to. The memories of what had been lingered like a ghost, haunting the edges of your mind whenever you let your guard down.

But then again, no one knew you were dating. To everyone else, you were just friends. Friends and co-workers. That was the story they had always known, the one you had carefully curated and protected. It wasn’t their fault—they didn’t see the quiet moments shared off-set, the way his hand used to linger on yours, the stolen kisses behind closed doors, the whispered promises of something that had felt so certain at the time.

You… you weren’t ready to tell anyone. The idea of opening up that part of your life to the world had felt too vulnerable, too risky. So you had kept it quiet, only sharing the truth with a handful of people you trusted—close friends who had sworn to keep your secret. Back then, it had felt like the right choice, like something sacred and yours to guard.

Now, though, it felt like a double-edged sword. No one on set knew about the history between you and Toji, which meant no one understood how charged this scene truly was. They didn’t know how much it would take to get through it without letting the weight of the past seep into every glance, every word, every touch. To them, it was just another part of the job.

But to you? To you, it was a reckoning.

You rubbed your temples, trying to shake the thought away, but it clung to you stubbornly. You were here to work, to act, to tell a story. You had gotten through every other scene with Toji, no matter how tense or emotionally taxing it had been. You could get through this one too.

Couldn’t you?

Your internal spiral was interrupted when Fushiguro Toji walked onto the set, his usual calm demeanor in place. He spotted you almost immediately and gave a slight nod in greeting, but his expression shifted when he noticed the look on your face.

“Something wrong?” he asked as he approached, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You hesitated, holding up the script instead of answering. “Have you read today’s scenes?”

He frowned slightly, taking the script from your hand and flipping through it. You watched his blue–green eyes scan the page one after another, his expression shifting from neutral to surprised and then to something you couldn’t quite place.

“Oh.” he said simply, his voice unreadable.

“Yeah.” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh.”

Toji closed the script, handing it back to you. “Well….” he began, his tone measured. “It’s part of the job, right?”

His casual response made your irritation flare. “Don’t act like this is nothing.” you shot back, keeping your voice low but firm. “You know it’s not. Not with us.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not saying it’s nothing. I’m saying we’ve done this before. We’re professionals for a reason. We’ll handle it.”

The word professionals felt like a jab, as if he was reminding you that whatever was between you didn’t matter anymore. You opened your mouth to argue but stopped yourself, biting back the words. Instead, you took a step back, putting more space between you.

“I just... wasn’t expecting it.” you admitted, your voice softer now. “I guess I should do more reading on the script before I say yes. But then again, we were together before this. I would have thought differently if we were….”

You stopped yourself from saying anything. You sighed as you took the script back from him, not looking at him. You fumble through the script once again, stopping at where you were reading earlier. For a moment, Toji didn’t respond. He simply watched you, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded.

“Neither was I. But maybe it’s a good thing.”

You frowned. “How could this possibly be a good thing?”

“Because….” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “If we can get through this, we can get through anything else this job throws at us.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond to him whatsoever. There was a sincerity in his tone that caught you off guard, a reminder of the man you used to know, a man you once loved—the one who could somehow say the exact thing you needed to hear, even when you didn’t want to hear it.

“Let’s just get it over with.” you muttered finally, turning away to avoid meeting his gaze. You hoped the words would end the conversation, but Toji, ever persistent, wasn’t ready to let it drop. “As soon as possible.”

“Are we going to rehearse—”

“We are not going to rehearse kissing.” you interrupted sharply, spinning back toward him with a pointed glare before he could finish the thought.

He blinked, momentarily startled by your tone, then raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay. No rehearsing. he said, his voice calm but edged with a hint of amusement. “I wasn’t going to push it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, still skeptical. “I mean it. We know how to kiss for work. It’s technical, not personal. We’ll hit our marks, make it look convincing, and that’s it.”

“Got it.” he replied, his tone unreadable. But the faint twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth betrayed him, and it made your chest tighten with a mix of irritation and something far more complicated.

“I’m serious, Toji.” you added, folding your arms across your chest. “This doesn’t have to be a thing. Let’s just focus on the scene and move on.”

He tilted his head, his gaze softening just slightly. “I know. I’m not trying to make it a thing, I promise.” he said quietly. “But it’s not like we can pretend it doesn’t feel... different.”

You froze, his words hitting you harder than you expected. Different. Of course, it felt different. How could it not? You had kissed him before, really kissed him. Many countless times in another life, when things had been simpler, when you weren’t standing on opposite sides of an invisible wall you’d both helped build.

But you couldn’t let yourself dwell on that now. Shaking your head, you turned back toward the set. “It doesn’t matter.” you said, more to yourself than to him. “It’s just a scene, Toji. That’s all it is.”

You didn’t wait for his response as you walked away, but you felt the weight of his gaze on your back, heavy and lingering. And as much as you tried to push it down, you couldn’t shake the sense that, for Toji, it might not be just a scene after all. You looked for your manager.

You needed to get that coffee from her as soon as possible.

And perhaps, a donut. You need enough sugar to get through the day.

And so you let hours pass by, trying to get the idea of the kiss off your mind. You were not going to think about it until you had to. That’s what you tell yourself. But you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

How will it happen? How will you end up lasting with how he would touch you? How could you keep this professional? You shook your head. You hated how much you were getting too into this.

When you finally make it off to set once again, you find yourself overwhelmed already. After going through the worst of thoughts while on the makeup chair, you couldn’t help but feel even worse here.

The set was quiet as the crew adjusted the lights and cameras for the upcoming scene. You stood off to the side, arms crossed, your script clutched tightly in one hand. The weight of what was about to happen pressed on you like a physical force, making it hard to breathe.

Toji was across the room, leaning casually against a prop table as the makeup artist gave him a last touch-up. He looked calm. Too calm, like this was just another day, another scene. Like there was nothing to freak out about. It irritated you. How could he be so composed when every nerve in your body felt like it was on edge?

Soon enough, the director called for everyone to take their places. You moved to your mark, heart pounding. Fushiguro Toji approached, his steps measured, his expression unreadable. The tension between you thickened as the cameras rolled into position, and the director gave the signal to begin.

The scene started smoothly enough. The dialogue flowed naturally, your voices blending together in a rhythm you had mastered over weeks of working together. But as the emotional intensity of the scene built, you felt the lines between acting and reality begin to blur.

“That’s all you ever do, isn’t it?” you said, your voice trembling with both your character’s anger and something far more personal. “You push people away the second they get too close. You think it’s easier to walk away than to face what you’ve done.”

Toji stepped closer, his character’s frustration mirroring something unspoken in his own eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” he shot back, his voice low, dangerous. “You don’t know what it’s like to carry this kind of weight.”

“I don’t know?” you snapped, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “Don’t you dare tell me I don’t know, because I was there. I was always there.”

The director hadn’t called the cut, so you kept going, even though your hands were trembling and your breath was coming faster than it should have been. Toji’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might break character. But then he stepped even closer, closing the gap between you.

And then it happened as naturally as breathing —the kiss.

It started the way it was supposed to, his hands lightly brushing against your arms as he leaned in, his lips meeting yours with the perfect mix of tension and tenderness. But as the seconds ticked by, something shifted. The scene was supposed to end with a brief, restrained kiss. I twas just enough to convey the characters’ unresolved feelings. But Toji didn’t pull back, and neither did you.

Instead, the kiss deepened even more, the intensity between you igniting like a spark meeting gasoline. Fire blossoming in the spark of that gasoline, over and over as you both push and pull.

His hand moved to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek in a way that felt far too familiar, far too real. Your hands, which were meant to stay at your sides, found their way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if you were anchoring yourself to him.

The room around you faded from your reality. The set, the cameras, the crew—it all disappeared as the kiss pulled you under, dredging up emotions you thought you’d buried. Pain, longing, regret. All of it crashed over you in an overwhelming wave, pushing and pulling you towards him.

“Cut!” the director finally called, his voice sharp enough to break through the haze.

You and Toji finally let loose and separated abruptly, both of you breathing hard. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the equipment and the muffled sounds of crew members shuffling around. No one said anything, but the charged atmosphere was impossible to ignore.

The director, who had been watching the monitors intently, clapped his hands together. “That was… intense.” he said, nodding approvingly. “Let’s reset and do one more take.”

You couldn’t meet anyone’s gaze, least of all Toji’s, as you stepped back to your mark. Your lips still tingled, and your heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of your chest. As the crew moved around you, resetting for the next take,

Toji leaned in close, his voice low so only you could hear. “You okay?”

You nodded stiffly, refusing to look at him. “I’m fine.”

But you weren’t. And as you prepared to shoot the scene again, you couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever had just happened wasn’t just acting—it was something far more dangerous. Many things were pushing through your mind over and over again. Things you shouldn’t think about. People you shouldn’t think about.

You touch your lips, before stopping and closing your eyes to take a breath. Toji was still looking at you, as though trying to make sure you were alright. But you couldn’t be coherent, you couldn’t think straight. Not when his lips tasted like forbidden fruit, from paradise, from heaven.

The moment the director called for another take, you felt your chest constrict. You couldn’t do it again—not right away, not with how raw everything felt. Your hands were trembling, your head spinning, and your heart still hadn’t slowed from the intensity of the scene—or the kiss.

“I need a break, director.” you muttered, barely audible, before turning and walking off set without waiting for a response. “Please….I…”

You started to move before you could register it. You ignored the crew members and assistants milling about, their curious glances following you as you navigated through the maze of equipment and props.

You didn’t stop until you found a quiet corner near the back of the lot, where the noise of the set faded into a distant hum. Leaning against a wall, you exhaled shakily, pressing your hands against your temples as you tried to steady yourself.

You didn’t hear him approach, but you felt his presence before he spoke.

“Hey.” Toji’s voice was soft but steady, cutting through the silence.

You stiffened, not turning around. “I just need a minute.”

“I know that.” he replied, his tone careful, as though he were trying not to spook you. “I just… wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

You scoffed, your laugh bitter and hollow. “Why do you care if I’m okay?”

His footsteps grew closer until he was standing just a few feet away. “Because I do.” he said simply. “I always have. You know that.”

You spun around to face him, your frustration bubbling over. “You don’t get to do that, Toji. You don’t get to pretend like everything’s fine, like you care, after everything—”

“I’m not pretending!” he interrupted, his voice rising just enough to cut you off. His jaw was tight, his expression pained. “You think this is easy for me? You think I wanted any of this to happen?”

“You walked away, Toji.” you shot back, your voice shaking. “You made your choice. And now you’re acting like—like—”

“Like what?” he challenged, stepping closer. “Like I regret it? Because I do. I regret everything, alright? But I can’t change the past. I can’t undo what I did. All I can do is try to…” He trailed off, his fists clenching at his sides.

“Try to do what?” you demanded, your own anger simmering beneath the surface. “Make yourself feel better? Redeem yourself? Because that’s not how it works, Toji. You don’t just get to show up and act like we can fix this with one stupid kiss!”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do.” he said, his voice softening, though the intensity in his eyes didn’t waver. “I just… I miss you.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You wanted to look away from him, but you can’t. How could you, when he was looking at you like that? Like he still sees you to be the only one for him. Like he still loves you most in this world.

“Toji…” you started, but your voice cracked, and you couldn’t finish the sentence.

His gaze flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, his expression torn. “Tell me to stop.” he murmured, taking another step forward. “If you don’t want this, just say the word, and I’ll walk away.”

You wanted to say it. No, you wanted to scream at him. You wanted to push him away and shove him and be angry with him, to tell him that you were done, that the past was the past and there was no going back. That you do not love him anymore. But the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, when he closed the distance between you, cupping your face with his hands, you didn’t pull away. His lips found yours, and the kiss was nothing like the one on set. It was desperate and unguarded, filled with all the things neither of you had been able to say.

Your hands clung to the fabric of his shirt, almost as if you needed the physical contact to ground yourself. The kiss deepened as your body pressed against his, the tension between you both crackling in the space that had once been filled with affection and now was choked with pain and unresolved emotion. His lips were insistent, hungry in a way that told you just how long he had been holding this back. The rawness of it, the desperation, sent a shiver down your spine.

His hands moved to the back of your neck, his fingers curling into your hair as if he were afraid you’d slip away again. When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, both of you stood there, forehead to forehead, your breaths heavy and unsteady. The world around you was a distant blur, and all that mattered was the way his chest rose and fell against yours.

The silence was suffocating, yet neither of you moved to speak. You couldn’t find the words, couldn’t find the strength to pull away from him again. He, too, seemed frozen in the moment, as if this brief touch of something real had left him equally shaken. But then, before you could fully collect yourself, he pulled you even closer. His body heat, his scent, enveloping you in the tight space between you.

Your eyes met once more. This time, there was no confusion, no uncertainty. The vulnerability in his gaze mirrored your own, and for just a heartbeat, you both let the walls crumble just enough to see each other for what you were—people who had been broken, but still searching for something to hold on to.

And then, his lips were on yours again, more forceful this time, as though he couldn’t hold back any longer, as though the weight of everything between you was too much to bear in silence. You didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.

The emotions inside you were tangled, each one vying for dominance. Hurt, longing, anger, and something deeper. A desperate need to feel something other than the emptiness that had been haunting you both for months.

His hands slid lower, tracing the line of your back, and you gasped against his mouth as your body pressed into his more firmly. It felt dangerous, reckless, but in that moment, you didn’t care. There was something that felt like freedom in this chaotic, emotional storm that you both had been trying so hard to avoid.

But it wasn’t just about the kiss. It was about everything that led to this point. The unfinished conversations, the words you both kept swallowing, the feelings you couldn’t express. His lips softened against yours for just a moment before he pulled back slightly, his face inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“I don’t know how to fix this.” he murmured, his voice rough, laden with frustration. "But I need you to know... I never stopped caring."

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat ringing in your ears. You swallowed hard, blinking away the tears threatening to fall. "Then why did you leave?" you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady.

His eyes darkened, his face tightening with regret. “Because I was scared,” he said, the words slow, deliberate. “I thought I could push it all down, but it just… it just made everything worse.”

You could feel his hands trembling against your back, his words raw with honesty. And for a moment, you let the weight of that honesty sink in.

“I don’t know what this is,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you fought the lump in your throat. “But I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt.”

Toji’s thumb brushed over your cheek, and you could feel the conflict in him—he wanted to comfort you, to make things right, but you both knew there were no easy fixes, no simple words that could undo the damage done.

“I know,” he said softly, his voice full of sorrow. “I know, but I’ll be here. I’ll be here until you decide if you want to give me a chance to make it right.”

Your eyes fluttered closed as you rested your forehead against his, the exhaustion of the emotional rollercoaster threatening to overtake you. You weren’t sure what this meant, what the future held, but in that moment, you allowed yourself to feel it.

The rawness, the tension, the connection. The kiss wasn’t just a kiss—it was a fragile promise, a silent acknowledgment that, despite everything, there was still something worth fighting for between you.

But you both knew that this wasn’t the end. It was only the beginning of something uncertain, something that would require more than a kiss to fix. But for now, you didn’t need answers. You just needed this. This seesaw game.

The more you were on this seesaw, the more you got to him. The more he’s here with you, locked in this cage of your own toxic desires. His touch, his presence, and the understanding that, for the first time in a long while, maybe you weren’t as alone as you thought.

“This doesn’t change anything.” you whispered, though your voice lacked conviction.

“I know.” he said softly. “But it doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying.”

You closed your eyes, trying to block out the rush of emotions flooding through you, but it was no use. Whatever had just happened, whatever this was. It wasn’t over. And you weren’t sure if that terrified you or gave you hope. Because it means you were no better. Your resolve crumbled so easily. How could you, when it was him?

“We have to go back to the set.” You whispered to him.

“Let them wait.” He whispers back to you, his breath hot against you.

That’s how you ended up back in his trailer, under him just like you had been six months ago. You had all but abandoned everything outside the door. From your mic packs left on that corner wall a few meters away, to the costume clothes left on the fridges of the trailer door.

Your lips echoed loud moaning ripples that could embarrass you had you cared enough for it at that moment. But you didn’t. All you cared about was the pleasure of being underneath him, being choked by his figure pressed against you as you squirm over and over again with the breath you didn’t have against his firm grasp.

All you could do was wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to where the sweat and the drool mixed onto you over and over again. With every tug to pull him closer, you found yourself being pummeled with his member deeper over and over again — taking away the dry spell that had kept your resolve for the past six months.

You could feel him burn you inside, searing you whole with the sheer size of him, taking over every inch of your crevices as though it belonged there. As though all of you were made for all of him.

You couldn’t help but release another moan, feeling your insides close against him, as your inner thighs quivered against the side of his waist repeatedly. The force of his thrusts were so strong that you were sure the bed was going to break.

His fingerprints were being engraved against your thighs with the way he pushes against your flesh, keeping you intertwined in this vicious downfall with him. Toji couldn’t help but laugh as he pressed closer against your body, the build of his cock sliding through your tummy and he could feel it. He felt proud of it. No one knew how to make you feel this electrifying feeling of being alive the way he could. No one else. And you knew that too well.

Calluses started to form on your reddening skin, pelted with golden sweat as he pulled in and out of you with the speed of a thunderstrike. One moment he’s into the point you could feel him down your throat choking and the next, it felt like you were freed from the vestiges of being full of everything heavy, only to feel so empty that you long for him to choke you whole with his cock.

And he does. Repeatedly. Over and over again, until you are on the verge of tears you know you shed because of the pleasure you succumb to, to your shame. To your love, to your desires. To him. No, for him.

Because you knew, no one else can love you like this. No one else can make a mess of you like this. No one else can make you feel so whole and broken all at once that it breaks you into many pieces.

You found yourself clawing at his back, successive moans with your breaking tone sounding like music to his ears. He hums in acceptance of the pain, trying to keep his composure as your nails bring blood streaming down his back. You move slowly to bite his shoulder, deep and whole and raw. You find him grunting slowly at the pain of it. You dug so deep that you knew you also drew blood there too.

You find him accepting it knowing that this is your love. This is the love that you have for him. And it will never change anymore. You wanted to love him and love him to the point he hurts. You want him to hurt. You want him to cry. You want him to bleed. Because how dare he make love to you, knowing you didn’t want to be hurt by loving him?

“I hate you.” You cry to him, his blood metallic in your tongue. You cry again, in between your incoherent moans. “I hate you more than anything in the world.”

“I love you.” He whispers to you over and over again, digging deeper into you that he has carved a home in you. “I love you. More than anything. More than life itself.”

You cry at his words. Because you knew they were true. You knew that he does love you. And yet you don’t want to be with him. You don’t want to let him back in. But he is here, with you. He is you, in you. He was everything that encompasses you. He was your first love. He was your first everything. And you can’t take it back. You can’t unlove him, even for your own good. Not even if the heavens wanted you to.

Toji couldn’t help but snarl as he pushes deeper and deeper, his sound animalistic and raw. He was close. You know this too well, once he stops talking. He devotes himself to the task. He pushes through over and over, the beckoning of his thrusts growing more erratic as he nears his peak.

But you knew him too well. He never comes inside of you without making sure you get your fill first. His long fingers reach down to where you're joined, finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles that send jolts of electricity shooting up your spine.

“T–toji!” You cry out loud, arching deeper into his touch as the pleasure coiling on your belly echoing over and over. You could feel his fingers work you perfectly, expertly as he pushes through over and over as he pushes his masterful fingers and his thrusting hips. “I….I’m….I’m close!”

"That's it, baby. Come for me too." he coaxes, his voice a low rasp in your ear. "Let me feel this pretty pussy squeeze the cum out of me."

He only gets this way when he finds himself close, his words disappearing into the reality of pleasure with you. You push against him, throwing your head back against the pillows. You shatter with a keening moan, your walls clamping down around Toji’s shaft as ecstasy crashes over you in waves.

He follows moments later with a guttural groan, pumping you full of his hot seed. You were shaking as you cling to him tightly, mewling softly against his shoulder blades. You could feel his body heavier against you as you both rode out the aftershocks, still gasping and twitching with the intensity of your shared climax.

As the fog of passion clears, you slowly come back to yourself, awareness returning in increments. You purse your lips as he presses kisses against your neck and then your jaw and then your cheeks. The warmth of his seed seeping off you as your hands loosen their hold on his body.

“We can’t do this again.” You whisper to him exhaustedly.

“I know.” He whispers back to you, his eyes shot with the look of love. Or was it lust? You could not tell. “I know.”

But you knew you were both lying to yourselves.

He was going to come back again and again.

And you would let him in, just as you had now.

══════════════════

YOU HAD SAID YOU DIDN’T WANT TO PARTICIPATE IN ANY PRESS TOURS. It had taken a while before you had even budged to the demands of the director. But you knew that you couldn’t admit that to be a resolve without the act. All Toji had to do was ask you, in his own way and you knew you would say yes. And you hated that it was the case.

As the lights of the red carpet flickered around you, you smiled, the cameras flashing as you and Fushiguro Toji posed side by side. His presence, tall and imposing, was the perfect foil to your poised elegance, but inside, you felt something altogether different. It was truly a quiet storm of conflicting emotions that you could barely contain.

The interviewer, enthusiastic and bright-eyed, approached you both with a microphone. “You two are the talk of the town! After months of speculation, you’ve finally confirmed your relationship with that press announcement. How does it feel to have it all out in the open?”

You met the interviewer’s gaze, your smile steady, though you could feel the weight of the question pressing against your chest. You exchanged a brief glance with Toji, his expression unreadable. He gave a small nod, as if reassuring you to continue, but you knew the truth—there was nothing to reassure, nothing to calm.

“We’re happy to finally share our truth, really.” you said, your voice smooth, practiced, like you were reading from a script. "It's been an incredible journey, and we're excited for what's next, both in our professional and personal lives."

The interviewer’s smile widened, practically giddy with excitement. “It’s clear that you two are truly in love! Your chemistry on and off-screen is undeniable. Toji, how does it feel to have such an amazing partner by your side?”

Toji’s lips quivered into a half-smile, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. “It feels like a new chapter, honestly. I’ve always admired her strength, her talent. She’s someone who challenges me, changes me, in ways I didn’t expect. I think that’s what makes it work.”

The words were kind, but you heard the undertone. You knew what it was. It was the unspoken acknowledgment of the past. The past you’d both tried to bury under layers of public appearances, press releases, and carefully crafted smiles. The past you had come to hate with all your hatred.

What had started as something deeply painful had morphed into something else entirely, something you didn’t quite understand but couldn’t escape. This was a gilded cage that you had allowed him to trap you in.

One that you couldn’t escape. That’s why you were here, standing next to him, because you couldn’t tear yourself away. You couldn’t fly away. Even when you hated him. Even when you knew better.

You felt the interviewer’s eyes shift back to you, awaiting a response, her curiosity piqued. "And for you, how does it feel to have him by your side now, after everything you've been through?"

Your chest tightened. The words to explain your truth were there, just beneath the surface, but they never quite made it to your lips. You gave another practiced smile, masking the turmoil that churned inside you.

"It’s complicated, yeah." you said carefully, choosing your words with precision. "We’ve both had our struggles, but that’s part of growth. That’s a lot of work, to make it all go smoothly. We’ve learned a lot from each other. And we’re both better for it."

The words hung in the air, a soft veil of politeness that couldn’t hide the undercurrent of something darker. The toxic bond, the cycle of love and hate, of pain and yearning. You hated that you were still here. You hated that you could never quite leave him, no matter how much you should. And yet, there was no escaping the pull. Not now. Not after everything.

The interviewer beamed, satisfied with your answer, but all you could do was nod politely, your gaze flickering to Toji again. The smile he gave you was the same one you had seen countless times before, the one that made your heart ache, the one that made you question everything about who you were, about who you were becoming.

You knew you should’ve been stronger. You knew you should’ve walked away a long time ago. But here you were, caught in the web you had spun and truly hated it. You hated him, but you still stayed. You knew, deep down, that this was your reality now.

Your love for him would never be pure. It would never be something that anyone deserves to have. It was not worth living a life of destitution and desperation. And yet, it was what you had. It would never be easy, it would never be anything other than toxic.. It would always be tangled up in mistakes, in forgiveness, in betrayal, in passion.

And so you stayed.

Because even if he would hurt you, even if you would hurt him, this was the life you had chosen. You had crossed that line long ago, and now, there was no going back. There was no way to escape the chaotic love you shared. It would make you happy. It would make you miserable. It would always be the same, because it had always been this way, and maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

For better or for worse.

For the horrid to the frigid.

You both were toxic till the end.

The moment you stepped inside the theater, the noise of the red carpet event faded into a dull hum, replaced by the quiet buzz of the room. The lights overhead gleamed off the polished surfaces, casting long shadows over the seats where the audience had yet to arrive.

Fushiguro Toji walked beside you, his presence commanding and strong, but the usual ease between you felt heavier now, charged with a tension neither of you had addressed since the interview. Since you were now a couple in the public hemisphere. And he was too aware of it all.

As you made your way toward the dressing room, you felt the weight of his blue–green gaze on you, sharp and searching, as if he was trying to decipher something in your posture, in the way you carried yourself. You ignored it, pretending to focus on the steps ahead, the noise of your heels clicking against the floor, the rhythm of your breath.

When you reached the door, you paused for a moment, the cold handle beneath your fingers reminding you of the distance that had always existed between you and Toji, even when you were close, even when you thought you understood each other. Even when you were now stuck in this disturbed romance.

The room was empty except for the faint scent of makeup and old costumes, a reminder of the countless times you’d shared similar spaces before everything had unraveled. Toji followed you inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. His footsteps were quieter now, the usual swagger in his walk subdued, but his presence still loomed larger than life.

You didn’t turn to face him immediately, choosing instead to adjust your dress in front of the mirror. The reflection staring back at you seemed almost foreign—perfectly poised, with a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. Not fully. And you didn’t know when that would ever happen again.

“You okay?” Toji’s voice was low, cautious, as though he wasn’t sure whether to press you or give you space.

You met his gaze in the mirror, seeing the uncertainty there. It made something inside you tighten, but you refused to show it. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” you said, though the words felt empty as they left your mouth. “It’s just... another night, another show.”

Toji stepped closer, his reflection merging with yours in the glass. “You don’t have to pretend, you know.” he said softly, his tone edging with a familiar vulnerability that made your chest tighten. “You don’t have to say everything’s fine when it’s not, babe.”

For a moment, you thought you might turn to him, reach out for him, let the rawness of it all spill over. But then you remembered the cameras, the words you’d both spoken on the carpet. The image you were meant to present. The lies you’d wrapped yourselves in, hoping no one would see the truth beneath.

“I’m not pretending.” you replied, a little too quickly. You broke your gaze with the mirror and turned to face him now, your eyes narrowing as if daring him to say something more. “What’s the point? Everyone’s watching, Toji. Everyone’s waiting to see if we’re going to fall apart, if we’re going to crack under the weight of it all. So why give them the satisfaction?”

Toji didn’t flinch at your sharp words. Instead, he took a step closer, his eyes softening, his voice quieter. “Maybe I’m tired of pretending too. Maybe I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

You shook your head, stepping back from him, though your heart thundered in your chest. “It’s too late for that. It’s too late for us, for anything real. We’ve already made our choices, Toji. This….whatever this is—this is just for show. This is what we have now. This is what we’re stuck with. And you know what the root cause was.”

For a brief moment, silence hung in the air, thick and oppressive, before Toji took a step forward, his hand reaching out to gently grasp your wrist, stopping you from retreating further. His touch was steady, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes, something that you could feel without needing to see it.

“I don’t want to lose you.” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “I never wanted to hurt you. I know I did, but I swear, I’m trying to fix it. I’m trying to fix us.”

You looked at his hand on your wrist, the heat of it seeping into your skin, and for a moment, you wondered if you could believe him. But then reality crashed back in, the weight of everything you’d been through. His betrayal, your own resentment, the lies you told yourselves about what you were.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again, Toji.” you whispered, your voice shaky, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to be before. “I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

He watches as you halted, taking a moment to gather yourself. Before you looked at him again. “But god, we are just miserable with and without each other. Nothing changes. And yet here we are.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if pleading for you to see something, anything, in him that might make a difference. “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I can earn that trust back. If you’ll let me.”

The words hung in the air, suspended between you, as the unspoken tension between you both remained unresolved. There was a part of you that wanted to believe him, that wanted to give in, to fall into the comfort of what you once had. But there was another part of you, the part that had learned from the mistakes, the hurt, that knew better.

“I don’t know.” you said quietly, pulling your wrist free from his grasp. “But I’m not the person I was before, and neither are you. So maybe we just need to accept that.”

Toji’s eyes dropped for a moment, the weight of your words clearly sinking in. He didn’t argue. He didn’t try to change your mind. Instead, he nodded, as if acknowledging the truth you both shared, no matter how painful it was.

“I don’t want to lose you.” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

But this time, there was no more fight left in you to give.

The words hung between you both, unresolved.

And for the first time, you wondered if you ever could let him go.

You wondered if you both would ever be free from each other.

Yet you knew that was wishful thinking, you knew that was a dream.

“You don’t have to worry.” You whispered back to him. “I’m not going anywhere….But you already knew that. Didn’t you?”

322 notes · View notes

lovebvni · 4 months ago

Text

mindset of manifestation & how i manifest

like melanie martínez, i am back from the dead.

i apologize for being gone so long, but i needed a break from tumblr. i saw toxicity swirling in the community, my life got busy, and i decided it was just time for a break. when i was planking to come back, i just saw how things got terrible and i got upset and decided not to come back.

so, im back now and with a little tutorial on how i manifest!!! <3 i hope this can help some of you out.

let’s start with background.

manifesting is kind of like predicting the future. you have something you want to happen, then it happens soon after. i feel like this is the easiest way to get into the manifestation mindset. you cannot change what you’re getting if you want it. could you change your mind later and return it like a package? yes! but before it arrives, you know it’s arrival is coming.

sure, there can be delays, but it all is going to turn out YOUR way in the end.

nile and i have been working on our mindset and this is something they wrote that i think can be really helpful — as it was to me.

from the past two years we have been actively manifesting, we learned that we often saw things as “crazy”. but manifesting isn’t crazy, it’s quite normal.

every time you get dressed in the morning, it’s an act of manifestation. you’re showing up with what you want.

manifestation is a mondane activity!! stop treating it like it was a kiss from an angel!

by reading this, you’re manifesting your eyes working, you’ve used your hands to open an app, and you have believed you can read and get through this blog! without manifesting that, you would not be here.

the first step to manifestation is believing you can do it, believing you have done it, and believing you will continue to do it. period.

there are many MANY different ways to manifest, but i manifest in 3 ways (sometimes i use all three, sometimes i use just 1 or 2.)

!! I ALMOSR FORGOT TO PUT THIS AND IM ADDING IT BEFORE I GET TO NUMBER 2 OMG!!

STOP! BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE I WANT YOU TO GET A NOTEBOOK, A SHEET OF PAPER, OR MAKE A CHECKLIST ON YOUR PHONE IN YOUR NOTES APP!!!

now i want you to write down everything you want right now down and leave the boxes blank if you haven’t gotten them yet.

once you get through that, i want you to randomly click between some of the items you want and write down things you wanted that you did get! they can be some simple and things from years ago, what matters is you have them down. throw in some things that you may have to do for school or work while you’re at it.

here’s an example! (left is before checking off, right is after)

as you can see, i added a note to the side because i got what i wanted and more abundantly! i had been manifesting a dog since i was a young child, and in 2021, i got 2!!!! (one is laying at my feet right now <3)

continue to do this daily, weekly, or whatever you have time for. i personally do this on notion and i try to add something new daily (im adding the heartstopper thing rn!!)

but yeah!! write everything u want down, and continue to add to it, just so u can see progress DOES happen and your work and effort DOES pay off!

affirming and persisting

this id the first way i learned to manifest, and the most self-explanatory.

you simply repeat what you want over and over until you get it! but not in the future tense, in the current or past tense.

ex; “i passed my maths final!”, “im so happy my boyfriend gave me those roses for valentine’s day, he’s so sweet!”, “i finished the essay for english like a week before it was due!” “i got the lead role in my play! im so excited!” etc.

now, the common factor between all of these is having a positive mindset about them. i cannot tell you HOW many times i manifested something would go well, and right before they happened, i got in a shitty mind space and wondered if it would ever happen.

but, nonetheless, i persisted through and i got what i wanted.

the pain have have been feeling cant compare to the joy that is coming. Romans 8:18

persisting is basically pushing through. think about the time you didn’t think you would make it through an injury, a school year, a trial, yet you still walked through it — even if it was slow.

like when work days are long and you want to go home, but you can’t, so you persist.

i try to think of my manifestations as an ultimatum. it’s going to happen, and that’s final. the only thing you have to do to get it is stay conscious.

and staying conscious, walking through those days, is how you get to the end!

i use affirming and persisting with pretty much everything, which is why it was first.

2. listening to subs.

it’s that simple — listen to an audible subliminal that has the results you want over and over!! that’s all i do u guys. here’s my playlist if u want it (IF I DELETE IT CHECK MY PINNED POST!! I UPDATE IT OFTEN)

i often use @stilljuststardust’s subs, slade’s subs, enchanted workshops’ subs and i want it, i got it’s subs!

all of them are trusted and credible. i cannot promise you that all the subs in my playlist will work for you, as they are (sometimes) linked to my personal desires.

3. pinterest manifestation!!

i recommend having either a whole pinterest account or a board set aside for this way of manifestation.

you simply make boards (or sections) for things you want. i would say this is best for physical items, people, looks, makeup, etc. things that re physically tangible, rather than something like reality shifting (although i do have a reality shifting board! it has been working pretty well <3)

i also have one for my mindset, my religion, so on and so forth (link btw)

i think this is pretty self explanatory. just save picture of things you want and quotes/affirmations and DONE!

i also use this sub with it :p it’s worked WONDERSSS!

if you have any other questions i will be happy to answer them!! i love you all!! go manifest!!

303 notes · View notes

blingblong55 · 20 days ago

Text

Every Breath You Take- Simon "Ghost" Riley

-Not based on a request- --- F!Reader, angst?, break!up, ex-boyfriend!simon, longing --- A/N: I wrote this inspired by the song Every Breath You take by The Police, duh. and also, if you want a Spotify playlist with this kind of vibe, this is the link. I used this playlist to write this one so....yeah

Every breath felt heavier when you were around him and when you weren't, it felt worse. Simon had always been a constant in your life, the shadow that loomed just far enough to let you shine but close enough to catch you if you ever fell. He was much more than a boyfriend, he was the guy who had seen you stress over little things but also the one who appreciated all of your littlest of flaws. The relationship was based on pure love, adoration, respect and friendship. Something most know they can't afford.

When you told him you wanted to continue school to go beyond and receive a PhD, he was there to cheer you on. Eventually, it was him and you, walking at odd hours of the day. Every day, he made sure you got out of your room, to walk, to socialize but mainly to relax. He knew you wanted this, wanted something special, a title few get but many appreciate.

Like him, you were a soldier before all. You, the smart one everyone in the room looked at for information and facts. Something that made you smile internally and something he felt proud of. He isn't the kind of man who feels threatened by his partner's brightness or anything else, he is the kind to celebrate it because it's something to be proud of. However, two years before you finished your doctorate, it all unravelled. The strain of balancing missions, your degree, and your relationship with Simon became a burden you couldn't shoulder anymore. He didn't fight you when you said it was over. It hurt, yes but he understood. His quiet acceptance of your decision hurt more than if he'd begged you to stay.

You buried yourself in your studies, drowning in research and late nights with coffee-stained notes and a perpetually messy desk. It was easier to focus on the path that you had chosen than to dwell on the absence of his voice, his touch, his presence. Simon, in turn, buried himself in missions, his absences becoming longer and his silences more profound. The few times you crossed paths during briefings or operations, he was polite but distant. Professional. Fuck, it stung.

But you remembered his promise. One night, years ago, when your head was resting on his chest and his right hand was intertwined with your right, you confided in him about your dreams of earning a doctorate. On nights like this, after a mission when he could be vulnerable and hold his angel, he would enjoy listening to your dreams, silently hoping that he could help you make them all come true. He smiled a rare, genuine smile, and said, "I'll be there. Front row. Might even be that kind of bloke that brings a sign that says, 'That's my girl.'" You laughed and kissed his hand.

And true to his word, when the day finally came, Simon was there when the time had come. He was always the kind of man everyone knew they could rely on because he kept his word. When he had gotten the news through Price that you'd be taking days off to celebrate and part-take in your ceremony, he knew what he had to do.

You didn't see him in the crowd, of course. You were too preoccupied with nerves and excitement as you stepped onto the stage, the culmination of years of sacrifice and hard work manifesting in the applause that echoed through the auditorium. Your family cheered, their pride palpable. As you shook hands with the dean and accepted your diploma, you allowed yourself a brief moment of pride. You'd done it. You'd finally done it.

Simon watched from the back, his heart heavier than he ever thought possible. He'd taken a few days off, something he hadn't done in years, just to be here. He'd stood in the shadows, like always, letting the crowd and the celebration shield him from view. In those seconds, as you looked at the crowd while you walked back down to the seats, you allowed yourself to look for him. There was hope in the stare you gave the crowd but it faded quickly when you didn't spot him. His smile was soft but tinged with sadness. He wanted to be in the front row, cheering for you, holding you, telling you how proud he was. But that wasn't his place anymore.

When your family surrounded you, pulling you into hugs and taking pictures, Simon lingered a few feet away. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his black surgical mask pulled over his nose. Old habits died hard. For a moment, he considered walking over and saying something, but what could he say? "Congratulations?" It felt hollow.

So, he left, slipping past you quietly as he'd come, his promise fulfilled. Just ten seconds later, you turn around but only see proud parents. It was weird, you felt something but you brushed it off. You went back to the hugs and the thank you's. It was hard to feel so happy, but I did it without the guy who was there for all the all-nighters and the rehearsed speeches.

Months passed. You'd thrown yourself back into work, rising through the ranks with the same determination that has carried you through your degree. Promotions came quickly, and your name became synonymous with excellence. And Simon watched it all from a distance, pride and regret warring within him.

When you were promoted again, he couldn't stay away any longer. It was a small ceremony, just your unit and a few high-ranking officers. Simo lingered at the edge of the room, waiting until the crowd thinned out before approaching you.

"Congratulations, for all the success you've had," his voice low and rough. You turned, startled to see him there. It had been months since you'd spoken, beyond curt exchanges during missions. He looked the same but different, the weight of time and distance etched into his features.

"Simon," you said, his name tasting bittersweet on your tongue. "Thank you." He nodded, his eyes scanning your face as if committing it to the depth of his brain. Because what if this was the last time he was this close? When the others had filtered out, leaving you two alone, he shifted awkwardly, his hands brushing against his thighs.

Silence. Silence.

"I was there, you know," he said finally, breaking the silence. "At the ceremony, when you were handed that doctorate." You blinked, caught off guard. "You were?"

He nodded, a faint smile tugging his lips. How could he forget the biggest day of your life so far? "Didn't think it was my place to be front and centre, but I… I kept my promise."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of his words settled between you, heavy with unspoken emotions. Your throat tightened, and you had to look away, blinking rapidly to stave off the tears threatening to spill.

"Thank you," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. Simon's gaze softened, and for a fleeting moment, you thought he might reach for you. But he didn't. Instead, he nodded again, his eyes lingering on you a moment longer before he stepped back.

A/N: this was written with no true ending, just like in real life. So, truly, the ending the their story isn't for me to make or for you to decide on, it's left in a cliffhanger like most loves end.

Tags: @liyanahelena @mangowafflesss @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @frazie99 @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo @alexaseeraj @trinthealternate @vampsquerade @azkza @VampyTheGoth @mariededenie

124 notes · View notes

bywons · 1 year ago

Text

𝟎𝟏 𝖢𝖠𝖳𝖠ℒ𝖮𝖦𝖴𝖤 ｡

plagiarism is strictly prohibited. do not spam like. you will be blocked.

𝟎𝟏. HEADCANNONS & REACTIONS

midnight shenanigans ( ot7 ) — it's midnight, and you both can't catch any sleep, what to do now? / fluff

go ahead and cry, little girl ( ot7 ) — where you cry in their arms / fluff

you belong with me ( ot7 ) — where they want to be the centre of your attention / fluff, jealousy

a little less scandalous ( ot7 ) — where it's risky with them / fluff, suggestive?

of love's sweet whispers : soft moments ( ot7 ) — it's moments like these, when they love you more / fluff

now shush, let me kiss ya ( ot7 ) — kissing them to shut them up / fluff

my lips on you : enha as types of kisses ( ot7 ) — their lips express love for you / fluff

you keep me warm ( ot7 ) — when you look warmer and cuter in his hoodie / fluff

more than pretend ( ot7 ) — tired of playing pretend, they want to make it official with you / fluff, fake dating

pulling you on their lap ( ot7 ) — where they want you closer / fluff

i wanna show you off ( ot7 ) — where you mark them as yours ; lipstick stains on them / fluff

when he walks in, i am loved ( hyungs ) — where they’re the best husbands in the whole world / fluff, married au

𝟎𝟐. INDIVIDUAL MEMBERS

LEE HEESEUNG

nerd!classmate! ( headcannon ) where nerd!classmate! lee heseung is in love with you / fluff

with and without ( drabble ) where he realises he messed up too bad / angst

heartshaker ( drabble ) lee heeseung doesn't know what he wants from his rival, better marks or a kiss / fluff

boyfriend stories ( smau ) your insta stories if heeseung was your bf / fluff

irresistible ( drabble ) he’s home late, but he knows just how to melt your heart / fluff, domestic

PARK JONGSEONG

my dopamine! ( drabble ) tutor!jay to your rescue / fluff

crawling back to you ( drabble ) he wants his girl back / fluff, suggestive?

whispers behind velvet ( drabble ) you and jay gamble with death / spy au, action, fluff

SIM JAEYUN

a little help ( drabble ) where your flirty neighbour wants his favour back / fluff, suggestive?

still, thinking of you ( smau ) down bad texts with ex! jake / fluff

boyfriend stories ( smau ) your insta stories if he was your bf / fluff

you're a sunflower! ( headcannon ) your superhero love story / fluff, spiderman au

PARK SUNGHOON

ice, ice, baby! ( drabble ) where he takes you on an ice skating date / fluff

you can be the boss ( drabble ) where your boss finds your cute secret, very cute / fluff

give me one more kiss ( drabble ) where your lips have him intoxicated / fluff

KIM SUNOO

boyfriend stories ( smau ) your insta stories if he was you bf / fluff

YANG JUNGWON

strawberries with chocolate ( drabble ) bf!won gives you a sweet surprise, while munching on strawberries / fluff

bf! insta stories ( smau ) jungwon as your boyfriend / fluff

double shot espresso ( drabble ) where jungwon still remembers the way to your heart / fluff, office romance

NISHIMURA RIKI

kiss it better ( drabble ) riki as your badboy! bf / fluff

manifest our love ( smau ) where riki, a nervous wreck, manifests his crush into liking him back / fluff, oneshot

going overdrive ( drabble ) where riki insists you on a late night bike ride / fluff, badboy!riki

𝟎𝟑. SERIES

coming soon!

𝟎𝟒. EVENTS

on our love : 1000 followers event ♡

requests and taglist are open !

#003 MASTERLIST #masterlist #enhypen x reader #enhypen #jungwon #enha fluff #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #jay x reader #heesung x reader #jake x reader #sunoo x reader #sunghoon x reader #jungwon x reader

457 notes · View notes

skinyslvtt · 5 months ago

Text

don’t try to run, i can keep up with you :)

#i miss my ex #ex boyfriend #need my ex #manifesting him back into my life

0 notes

bouquetface · 8 months ago

Text

Synastry Observations 1

Accuracy influenced by ENTIRE chart.

❣️ Mars conjunct Jupiter

These two can challenge each other’s beliefs/morals. One person likely Jupiter can encourage and support Mars.

If negative, Jupiter can trigger events that lead Mars to initiate change in their life. I say this is negative because the initial feelings Jupiter will trigger could hurt. However, it may be a needed experience to push the Mars person’s closer to their purpose. Especially if north node is being aspected.

One person likely Jupiter will increase the drive of the Mars person. This is a good indicator for attraction. The relationship with this aspect did not work out in the long term (for other reasons). However, when not seeing anyone else, they would still hook up.

If negative, Jupiter may not reciprocate Mars attraction.

❣️ Mars Opposite Moon:

This can indicate attraction. However, these two can bring out repressed anger in each other. Mars asserting themselves can be perceived as controlling or hurtful for the Moon person. Mars may want the Moon person to confront part’s of themselves that Moon does not want to.

The Moon person could become competitive with the Mars person too. And I have seen this play out in real life as my friend not getting along with her boyfriend’s mom. The girl is a Taurus Mars and the guy is a Scorpio Moon. His mom is VERY involved in his life and protective (he’s an adult but her only child). She is lowkey the definition of a toxic boy mom. However, it all depends on the entire chart.

❣️ Mars Conjunct Pluto

This creates strong attraction. In a fire sign, the two can start a relationship very quickly. Spending all free time with each other. The con this can lead to burning out quickly.

This relationship can be very transformative. I have seen this in aspect in people’s first sexual relationship. On the other hand, I’ve seen this manifest as being a very transformative breakup. The Pluto person spiraled out of control for a bit. This along with other life events forced them to confront their own psychological issues. They are in a much better place now.

❣️ Moon conjunct ASC

This creates a great sense of comfort. This can be a person you can fall easily back into. There is a level of understanding so strong that very little needs to be explained. This could be due to a lot of reasons: you may have similar careers, similar backgrounds, similar families, etc.

The negative is one person could assume they know the other so well, they begin assuming too much. This can leave the other feeling misunderstood. In one scenario, I noticed these people made great friends. In a different couple, the ASC person said they felt “disconnected” but noticed the Moon person felt “connected”.

MOSTLY FRIENDSHIP SYNASTRY OBSERVATIONS

❣️ Mercury Opposite Mercury

You can feel like the other person is a liar and/or feel misunderstood. A hard exact mercury opposite mercury synastry placement can make me question the potential for longevity in any connection (friendship or romantic).

For ex: Cap Mercury opposite Cancer Mercury. The cap is likely straightforward. They can be inconsiderate in the way they phrase things. Cancer can be hurt. Cancer may become passive aggressive. Cap in return likely doesn’t respect Cancer for their communication style.

This was observed in a friendship connection. The two still don’t talk to this day but had several years of friendship.

Ex.2. Sag Mercury opposite Gemini Mercury. These are two funny and clever placements. However, they may clash heads. Sag Mercury can become preachy. Refusal to admit their beliefs/opinions are wrong. Gemini Mercury may grow to be disinterested in the topic. Sag is likely to stay on the topic until they feel they’re done. It can create a bored student and teacher duo. This was observed in a romantic connection that did not last. Keep in mind the entire chart will influence accuracy in everyone’s experience.

❣️ Mercury opposite Mars

Unlike, mercury opposite mercury, the connections I’ve seen with this do not go far before ending. This is one of those aspects that can make you dislike someone right from the start. It’s like when you’re talking and someone interrupts you to be like “actually, xyz”. If the two can avoid trying to out smart the other, I think this could work though (i haven’t seen it happen tho but everything depends on entire chart).

❣️ Mercury conjunct Mars

For some reason, unlike the above, this seems to work much better. There are challenges as one could feel attacked - rudely criticized, nitpicked on the details, made to feel dumb, etc. Yet, it can be a fun challenge to outwit the other. The two can become more clever and engaged in the conversation. Specifically, I’ve noticed people with fire sign placements in the natal seem to enjoy a mental challenge. As long as both understand the other’s limit, this works. There is a time to be teasing and challenging your person but there is also a time when they simply need support and encouragement. This placement along with positive venus and moon aspects in the chart could work out very well.

❣️ Moon conjunct Saturn

The Moon person began to feel the need to impress the Saturn person. It was like they were always seeking validation from the Saturn. Moon may be feel judged by Saturn as well. Saturn can be a difficult person to gain approval from. Moon may feel they need to change themselves or hide parts of themselves when around Saturn. Regardless of the negatives, this is an indicator for a long connection. Instead of feeling restricted, moon could benefit from the boundaries Saturn requires. It could help the two level up their connection through maturing.

❣️ Venus Opposite Uranus

Abrupt start and/or end is noted in every chart I’ve seen this aspect. Reasons for this vary depending on entire chart.

390 notes · View notes

just-some-random-blogger · 1 year ago

Text

Accidental Targ

Scene II: he kinda looks like my ex boyfriend | Masterlist

Daemon Targaryen x Modern!Reader

Summary: After coming to terms with the fact you were in King's Landing some two thousand years before your birth, you get reunited with your friend and try to manifest your way back to the present. For the meantime, Harwin Strong is your bodyguard.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: fem!reader, time travel au, descriptions of reader's hair, incestuous gremlin!daemon, generally gross!daemon, harwin 'big daddy' strong, crackfic, typos, etc.

A/N: Following the events of our mighty poll 😁😁😁😁 im excited to say what won was was always my intention and im glad you lovely readers have synced with me on it BWHWAHA sorrows sorrows prayers

"Fucking Seven," I sigh and gather my thick skirts, running up to the blue haired girl. The servant who escorted her promptly curtsies then walks away. I release the fabrics to grasp her face. I sigh in relief, "thank the gods you're here, Libby."

"What the fuck are you wearing?" she asks groggily, eyeing my dress.

I shake my head, "fuck, shit, I mean Lilibet."

"And how did you braid your hai-" Libby speaks the same time as me before freezing and raising a finger, "fuck you."

I growl and grab her hand, "no, no, no. Listen to me," I push her hand down, "you remember running through that damned arch?"

Libby wrangles out of my clutch and rather exasperatedly glares at me, "what?"

I release a shudder then grab her face again, "listen to me, Libby!" I sigh, "remember that stupid urban legend?"

Libby's face contorts as she groans. She pushes my hands off her à la 5-year-old tantrum; her blue hair, in turn, flies to her face.

"We crossed that arch," I grab her arms, "and now we're in fucking first century Westeros, Libby," I hiss, pulling her to the bed, "which is why I have to call you Lilibet-"

"Fuck you."

"-and you have to change and cover your hair," I release her to grab the clothing on the sheets, shoving them into her chest.

"What ABOUT my hair!"

I shake my head, "it's a dead giveaw-"

"You're closer to dead. You look like a fucking grandma and you have problems with my hair?!" Libby throws the clothes back on the bed, "listen, I know I got wasted and shit, and I'm sorry, but if you want me to cosplay as a peasant, just say that and get me coffee, please-"

"LIBBY!"

Libby's ear's ring, "bitch, the fu-"

"THERE IS NO COFFEE!" I grab her arms and shake her, "we're being held hostage by Daemon Targaryen and this hair," I manically point to my head, "is our fucking lifeline!"

Libby's face pinches, the initial grogginess in her expression is expelled, "Ok, calm your tits, YN-wannabe. I told you reading fics of him would fuck with your head. Imagine reading fics about King fucking Charles-"

"IT'S NOT THE SAME!"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S NOT THE SAME?! IT'S FUCKING WORS-"

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT, LIBBY!"

"HE'S THE COLONIZER OF COLONIZERS!"

"IT'S NOT A FANFIC!" I pinch my fingers together, "THIS IS NOT A FANFIC! I AM telling you we fucking crossed that arch and now we're FUCKING-"

My words cease when a creaking sound of the heavy door fills the room. The both of us turn to the door as it opens. My heart begin to race.

Lo and behold, Daemon Targaryen walks in, one hand on his hilt, eyes looking us both up and down. Libby shifts in her spot as Daemon approaches. Her demeanor immediately changes when she sees him. She straightens up and pushes her hair back, dusting off her hot pink top. Aint no way.

"Do I look good?" Libby mutters to me before Daemon is in front of us. My eyes blow wide and my jaw slacks. Be so fucking for real. She fixes her radioactive blue hair and my upper lip curls in disgust and annoyance.

Libby and Daemon lock gazes; the former smirks, "hey, cutie pie."

I slap my hand to my face. The sound reverberates in the room.

"What is a cutie pie?" Daemon asks stoically.

Libby leans on one leg, "you."

"Seven fucking hells," I quip, roughly dragging my palm down my skin.

Daemon turns to me before tilting his head. He mirrors Libby's stance and his lips faintly curve upward, "in this era, girl, pies are food. What would I have in common with a type of pie?"

Libby lets out an airy chuckle, "you ren fair boys really like roleplay, huh?"

Daemon raises a brow, "I assure you, nothing about me is boyish."

Libby bites her lip and claws the air, "rawr."

I am unable to mask the sound I make. Daemon pulls his head back at Libby's actions.

I grit my teeth and grab her arm; she shakes me off, making sure to giggle as she does this. Daemon chuckles as he turns to me, "I see why you are keen on keeping her."

"You can keep me if you like," she blurts, stepping in front of me to garner his attention. Daemon steps back.

I grab Libby's arm again. This time, with much force that the ends of my hair whip around. I whisper-yell, "you do know that is Daemon Targaryen, right?"

Libby barely turns to me as she mutters, "what?"

"You're flirting with the Daemon Targaryen," I sneer, "first of his name," I lean in and whisper, "manwhore."

Libby looks at me from over her shoulder to me then back to Daemon, "ahhhh. A cosplayer."

"Libby, I swear to g-"

"It's pretty good," she crosses her arms then points, "is that a wig or hair dye?"

Daemon furrows his brows, face contorting at her words.

My eyes widen and suddenly the silver hair on my scalp itches like it doesn't belong to me. Well, see-- it doesn't! Not in a way that counts to the incestuous gremlin!

From the way his composure tightens, I could tell he was no longer amused. I yank Libby back, shooting her a glare, "literally shut the fuck up."

She scowls at my pressed tone, "what? I was just asking-"

"Hair dye?" Daemon blurts way too loud, shutting us both up.

We turn to him as he looks between us. He tilts his head and adjusts his grip on his sword. He straightens his posture. In that moment, his expression was changed dramatically. He reaches out for Libby's hair, inspecting it in his hand. His violet eyes dart to hers, "so, your hair is blue because of dye?"

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, fuck.

I grab Libby's hand before she can think of saying some bullshit. She does not move a muscle as I squeeze her palm.

Daemon raises his brows impatiently.

"What?" she mumbles.

I clench my jaw at her ditzy response.

Daemon narrows his eyes, "are you so dimwitted not to understand me the first time?

Fucking fuck. A shiver runs down my spine. Libby raises her brows and turns to me as I stare at Daemon. I blurt, "it is a right of passage for her family."

Daemon eyes me hotly.

I release Libby's hand and scramble to the bed where my clothes were folded into a small sack. I go through my things and pull out my phone, opening my gallery, showing Daemon a photo of Libby and our friends with bright colored hair. I lie, "these are her cousins."

Daemon pulls his head back at the sight of the photo on my phone; it was the exact reaction he had when I showed him a screenshot of the maps of this very place.

Libby blinks rapidly as Daemon comes to my side. The man basically breathes down my neck as he looks a the screen like a boomer. He narrows his eyes and pulls back his chin.

I point to Sandra, who had pink hair, "they do this to... commemorate the war-- of their people."

Daemon looks at Libby again, seemingly expecting more of an explanation. I look at Daemon and begin to panic at the aloof expression Libby held. I place my hand on his arm and rub it gently. Thankfully, he's still a simple man and it seems to diffuse his unbelieving demeanor, "it's hard for her to talk about. It was a war over dye and trading. A lot of her family... were casualties."

Fuck. WELL, real wars have been fought for WAAAY less.

Daemon turns to me, "I find it hard to believe such traditions exist two thousand years from now."

"And yet," I wave my phone, "you could not also believe you were listening to music with me moments ago."

He hums and turns back to Libby. He nods, "well, have her dress," he turns back to me, "I want to break fast with you before the tourney, dragonling."

I nod rapidly. Daemon gives a smile and heads for the door, "you remember your way to the solar?"

"I do."

He eyes Libby as he walks off then turns to me, "very good."

The moment the door closes, Libby explodes, "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!

"WE'RE IN FUCKING FIRST CENTURY WESTEROS," I whisper-yell, "now keep your voice down, you stupid fucking bitch, and change!"

It took me explaining everything that happened in detail as she got in her dress AND getting lost in the fucking castle then actually finding our way to the solar for Libby to believe I wasn't playing the most elaborate prank on her.

And when we got there, a servant informed us that the prince had been summoned by the king and that we should eat by ourselves.

Libby and I sit across each other. We decide to forfeit the fact the food could be poisoned because we were way too hungry not too eat. This blue haired rat, however, couldn't fucking stop saying the food could use salt and pepper. We were mortified when a servant came to us with a mortar of just that.

Before we could even say thank you, she runs off.

I snap at Libby, who scratches her headscarf for the nth time, "do you fucking understand you're a terrifying aristocrat right now?!"

"I'M SORRY!" Libby makes a repentant expression.

"You should be!"

"It's just that everything is fucking boiled and-"

The sound of the door opening ends Libby's yapping. We both snap to see who was entering.

In walks the dark haired man from the night before. Gold cloak, armor, and all. He steps in front of us and bows, "good morn."

"Hubba hubba," Libby tucks imaginary hair behind her ear.

"Fucking," I snap to her, "stop."

I look back at the man trying to remember his name, I can't seem to.

"Wait! Is this the madly good looking guard you were talking about?!" Libby speaks WAY to loud for a conversation between two people across each other.

The man makes a sound as he wipes his lips. My eyes widen and I sink in my chair.

"You clearly have a type," Libby mutters as she unabashedly eyes him. He is undeterred. She tilts her head, "he looks like your ex."

I snap back at her, "w h a t?"

"Or I mean he would look like him," she points her thumb, "if he wasn't so whiny, short, and pathetic," Libby turns to me.

"He literally looks nothing like Jon."

"He does!" she leans in, "dark curls, thick brows!"

I shove a bread roll into her mouth.

"Prince Daemon tasked me to be your chaperone for the day," he says, clutching his hand in front of him.

"I've always wanted a hot bodyguard," Libby smiles and leans back on her chair, "well, don't just stand there," she beckons him, "come join us for breakfast."

I pretend to fix my silver hair as I clear my throat, "breaking fast."

"Breaking fast," Libby corrects with a grin, "and what was your name again, pretty boy?"

I groan as I shove a bread roll into my mouth.

"Harwin Strong, my lady," Harwin mutters with another respectful nod, turning to me, "and please, forgive me for last night's encounter, Lady Gryffindor."

Libby titters and slaps her hand on her mouth.

"If I came off as impertinent or-"

"No, please, sir Strong," I raise a hand to him, "you were doing your job-- I mean your duty. Nothing needs to be forgiven."

"By the way," Libby raises a finger, "I'm Lady Hufflepuff and I would love it if you sat down next to me."

Harwin turns to Libby and I resist the urge to facepalm. My face twitches and I watch as Harwin shifts in his spot. I blurt, "you can call her Lilibet."

"Fuck you," Libby snaps.

I snap back, "well, that is your name, is it not?"

"I'm not entering my nun era."

I make a throaty sound and grab a goblet, "clearly," I take a sip, "but with that getup-"

"Hey!" Libby bangs on the table, "you're the one who made my cunt levels drop with this milkmaid outfit."

Harwin begins to cough.

"What? Like I chose that for you?"

"No," she props her elbow on the table, "but Daemon gave you a city girl-"

"Prince Daemon."

"-outfit and he made me look like your ugly handmaiden."

"Again," I brush my platinum hair out of my face, "that wasn't my choice, Lilibet."

"My ladies-" Harwin interjects, making us both turn to him. He clears his throat and offers pinched smile, "I am honored by the invitation, but I will stand watch out-"

"Oh, don't be rude and just sit down already," Libby presses with a playful look, "there's way more food than the two of us can eat."

And though she was correct, I kick her underneath the table.

Libby yelps and eyes me. I dodge her when she kicks me back.

"I don't think it appropri-"

"Nonsense!" Libby calls, turning back to Harwin as she fails to kick me again, "please, just join us."

"LILIBET!" I whisper-yell.

"UGH!" she turns to me with disgust and whisper-yells back, "stop fucking calling-"

"You do know he could literally be like your great-great-great-great-"

She raises a hand and cuts me off with a guttural groan, "oh miss me with that bullshit! You're LITERALLY a Targaryen!"

"I will wait outside," the man calls, making us turn to him.

Harwin walks off and Libby raises the bowl of bread rolls, "THE BREAD ROLLS ARE ACTUALLY REALLY NICE THOUGH!"

I wipe my face, "Libby, we're going to fucking die."

"Not before I try myself some Harwin Strong."

"SIT BACK DOWN."

"I'M SAT!"

When we finished eating, Harwin escorted us to the arena to watch the tourney.

"Are you married, Harwin? Can I call you Harwin?" Libby asks.

I shoot her a look, "Lilibet."

Libby ignores me. The man we were following keeps walking, not bothering to look back at us, "you may call me whatever you like, my lady."

Libby and I turn to each other with a gasp. No, cause why he playing like that?

"And I am not married," he looks over his shoulder, eyes locking with mine momentarily.

Libby's jaw drops and begins to shake me. She mutters loudly under her breath, "bitch. why he looking at you, and not at me?"

"Probably because you're fucking stupid!" I retort quickly in the same manner, unable to mask my giddy tone.

Harwin clears his throat again as he looks front. Neither of us catch this.

"Libby, be so fucking real though," I grab her arm and whisper, "that's someone's grandpa."

"Yeah, well, today, he's my daddy," she mumbles then bites her lips, as if it could minimize her grin.

Harwin makes a face and whispers under his breath, "daddy?"

When we get to the arena, the sound of the cheering crowds make both of us excited, up until someone screamed in terror and the crowds continued cheering anyway. Harwin gave us spots quite near the front, and the sight of the horses and their long-ass sticks left me feeling uneasy.

Libby shoves into me as she points to the far right. I, in turn, collide into Harwin's bulky armor. Before I can apologize for it, she squeals, "LOOK, IT'S DAEMON!"

"Libby, he's the prince!"

"TAKE A PHOTO! He looks so good!"

I give her a look as I straighten up, "girl, shut the fuck up."

Without another thought, she pulls out her phone from her bosom and wipes the moisture off the screen.

Harwin looks away, eyes wide, pretending he did not just see that happen.

"Stop it! You have no idea how bad this could-"

"Oh, shut up, you showed Daemon your phone!" Libby makes a face.

"THAT'S BECAUSE HE WOULDN'T LET ME GET REUNITED WITH YOU IF I DIDN'T CONVINCE HIM I WAS FROM-."

"Shush," she opens her camera and begins to take photos of Daemon. She shouts his name along with the other spectators and I beg her to at least call him prince.

"What is that contraption," Harwin asks, eyes glued on Libby's cracked screen.

I turn to Harwin, to Libby's phone, back to him, "it's, err... an image capturing... box."

Harwin nods at me though his face is visibly confused. He furrows his brows as Libby switches to front cam and puckers her lips out, "SAY CHEESE, DADDY!"

The color in Harwin's face drains when he sees himself on the screen. I clutch his arm and give him a look, "it's okay. It's not dangerous."

"Will it capture my image?" he mutters and covers his face. He mutters under his breath, "I'd like to keep my face."

Fuck. "N-not like that. It's... it's not black magic."

All the while, Libby is pressing the buttons on her phone, rapidly taking photos no one asked for.

A few people around us begin to mutter to themselves. I find myself looking over my shoulder, catching a bunch of men staring right at us. I eye Libby, nonverbally telling her to quit it. She gives me a look and snaps a few more pics of Daemon before shoving her phone back in her cleavage.

I release a breath when she does, that, and ser Harwin's arm that I did not realize I was still latched on to. I offer a look, "sor- apologies."

He nods, "all is well, my Lady."

And yeah sure, maybe it was. Maybe all was well. Daemon was winning the tournament-- or tourney, I guess; I have no idea what the difference was. I mean I could barely watch because they were fucking gladiator-ing each other, but I knew he was winning because after every crash, came a trumpet and the announcement of it.

So yeah. Maybe it was fine then, in its own sick way, but then Libby pulled me by the arm and said, "I have to take a shit."

"What?"

She gives me a look, "I need to take a shit."

"Libby," my eyes widen.

"I know!" she grabs my shoulders as the crowd cheers over whatever barbaric brawl was happening this time, "you think I want to know what their loos look like?" she shakes me, "am I going to have to shit in a river?"

I wipe my face and turn over to Harwin. His eyes turn from the match to me when I pull at his cloak, "mmm.... Lilibet has to... ... to poop."

Libby slaps my arm. I turn to her, frazzled. She hisses, "he doesn't know what poop is."

"You think I don't know that?!"

"I beg your pardon, my lady?" Harwin shifts to us, his thick brows knitting.

"Yeah, one second," I raise a finger at him, looking back at Libby, "I don't fucking remember the word."

Libby sighs, "Just tell him I need to sh- I NEED TO SH-"

I slap my hand on her mouth, "QUIT IT!"

Libby pushes my hand off, "WHAT?!"

"HE'S NOT GONNA KNOW WHAT THAT-"

"EVERYONE FUCKING KNOWS WHAT TAKING A SH-"

"NO, THERE'S A TERM THAT THEY USE! Think about it! Have you never watched a BBC period drama?!"

"BITCH, YOU KNOW I ONLY WATCH NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC!"

"OK, THEN THINK OF WHAT DAVID ATTENBOROUGH SAYS WHEN THE ANIMALS ARE POOPI-"

"DO YOU GENUNINELY BELIEVE THEY SHOW FOOTAGE OF ANIMALS POOPING ON TELEVISION?!"

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW. IN ALL TV HISTORY THERE HAS TO BE AT LEAST ONE TIME WHERE-"

"HARWIN," Libby shoves me to the side and grabs the man, "I HAVE TO SHIT."

Seven father fucking hells. I dig my fingers into the roots of my light hair and to Harwin, whose lips part and brows furrow. He nods, "I will lead you to the privy," he turns to me, "stay here in the meantime."

We both nod. Libby walks to Harwin's and makes a face at me, "they call it a privy on the BBC, do they? Sounds like an office."

"Libby- Just- if push comes to shove, tell him you'll shit in the river."

Libby groans as Harwin leads her off. She shoots me a glare, "I am not shitting in a river with Harwin watching!"

I shriek in shock when there is a loud crashing sound. My hands dart to my ears just as the crowd roars. A loud voice announces the victory of Prince Daemon from House Targaryen.

I drag my hands down my cheek and clutch my chest.

I dare to look at the casualties on the playing grounds, but to my horror, I see something far worse. Daemon's horse is galloping over to me. He rips his helmet off, tosses it, and sighs through a grin. He points his stick to me and loudly calls, "might a fair woman like you reward me something sweet?"

My eyes widen and I feel the entire stadium turn to me. My heart races and my jaw loosens inch by inch.

Daemon shoves his stick to the side and reaches his arms out to me, "a kiss perhaps?"

Rat, I wasn't even watching you play. Why should I reward you for winning a game I didn't watch?

I cannot help the sound that leaves me when the other audience members begin to spur me on and nudge me. Fuck. I hate peer pressure. I walk towards the railing and eye Daemon as if I had laser vision.

"I CANNOT REACH YOU!" I scream back, momentarily shocked by the ferocity and fury of my voice. I gulp and clear my throat, rubbing my neck that I would so like to keep. I raise my hands, "I must then stay here!"

Daemon, face shining with sweat, colored with dirt and blood, beams as he looks up. He chuckles and dismounts his steed. He walks closer to me and begins to remove his armor, "then come down to me, woman!"

The crowd loses it. The women around me scream that I should come down to him.

Maybe if I jump head first, I'll be done with all this bother.

Fuck, but then Libby would be all alone.

I groan under my breath, "fucking Libby. This is all her fucking fault!"

I look back at Daemon, who had two men helping him out of his armor at this point. His eyes are on me; they probably didn't leave. His lips are curved higher, "fear not," he smirks deeper, "did I swear to protect you?"

The crowd is feral. I glance around the place. Isn't the fucking king right there?!

"No!" I look down at him and shake my head, "you swore not to harm us!"

Daemon laughs, "is there a difference?"

"YES!" I blurt, eyes wide.

Daemon stands alone bellow me, free of his upper body armor. He raises his hands up to me, "then believe me when I say you will not be harmed when you jump."

"Oh gods," I grip the railing and screw my eyes shut, "I fucking hate this man."

"Will you make all of King's Landing wait days for you, girl?"

I growl as the people around me continue to pressure me to jump. Had there not been people around, maybe I would have spit at him. And yet - I climb the railing - I am nothing against peer pressure.

Daemon steps forward, arms higher, laugh louder.

The stadium gasps while heart leaps into my mouth when I let go of the railing and drop straight down. The collision is just as messy as I had dreaded it to be and the next thing I know, I've smack dabbed atop the fucking prince of the realm, crushing into the fucking dirt. So much for catching me.

Yet somehow, Daemon manages to let out giggles while the crowd cheers. His arms tighten around me as I push myself up on his chest, "my," he blows silver hair out of his face, "I didn't actually think you'd do it."

"Fuck you," I snap and shove myself off him.

I don't even know where I'm even going, but I storm off anyway, feeling like the biggest idiot in the known galaxy.

But of course, Daemon is quick to get up and grab my arm. He speaks some High Valyrian bullshit, but I care little for it and pry my limb out of his clutch.

It seemed that was the wrong course of action though, cause the next thing I knew, he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder. The audience flourishes over the way he took me like a piece of meat.

I fucking hate it here.

Make no mistake, I did my due diligence and tried to wrangle out of his grip. But he was pumped with far too much adrenaline, and his inflated ego would not let him let me go.

Eventually, I got tired and just let it happen. The moment he put me down when we arrived at his chambers though, I shoved him off and distanced myself as much as I could, "what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Daemon responds in High Valyrian, which effectively pisses me off more.

"I don't have TIME to decode your dragon-heir bullshit, so quit it! I am not a toy!"

Daemon chuckles as he takes a towel and wipes his face, "no?"

"Look," I snap, "I know you're, like, touch deprived and emotionally constipated," I stretch my arm out, "I mean, your family-- our family is a fucking wreath, so you're bound to be fucked up in the head, but please," I press my palms together, "PLEASE just be normal until the end of the day, Dae- Prince Daemon."

Daemon laughs as I go off on him. He watches me for a moment, throws the towel to his bed, and tilts his head.

My chest heaves as we stare at each other. Instead of relaxing, I begin to grow more tense with every passing second. I take a deep breath, but it does nothing for my nerves when Daemon walks forward.

"The truth in the matter is," he raises a hand, "you need me."

My stomach drops when he yanks me by the waist. His violet eyes dart down to my heaving chest. He places his one hand on my collarbone, "shhh."

The feel of him pressing onto my flesh does the exact opposite of what he wants. But no-- with how the corner of his mouth curves upward, I think it's actually the exact reaction he wanted.

When I try to push him off, he pulls me tighter into him and repeats, "you need me."

My nostrils flare but I stop repelling him.

"You need me," he lifts his gaze, "but I don't. I want you, but you need me."

I clench my jaw tightly. I am unable to contain my flinch when his hand strokes my side. He continues, "you need me to open the gate for you and your friend come midnight, do you not?"

I turn away from him.

He nudges me and asks louder, "do you not?"

"Yes," I whimper as I shut my eyes.

He hums, "then," he takes my chin in his fingers, "you'll be what I want, riñītsos." Little girl. He raises his brows. "If say you are a toy, then you say, 'yes, my prince'. If I say you are a rug, then I expect you under my heel. If I say you are my dog, then you ought to bark," he releases my chin, "now, bark, my sweet."

I glare at him, "if you want a dog, I suggest you go up North." I push him by his chest.

He laughs. He grabs my arms and pushes me back. I panic when I fumble on my feet and find myself pressed against a wall. "You're right, riñītsos. How wrong of me to liken dragon fire to dog breath."

I gasp when my back hits the wall.

"A shame," he tucks my silver hair behind my ear, "your parents did not give you violet eyes."

I am frozen in my spot when his lips brush against mine. My breath hitches when he simultaneously presses me back with his chest and pulls me forward with his hands.

I don't kiss him back. My brain was in a glitch. He doesn't seem to mind and feasts on my lips. The moment I have the wits to move, he pulls away and whispers, "worry not," he kisses my jaw, "I'll give your babes violet eyes."

Hearing that really snapped me out of my trance.

I finally turn away from him. It does not deter him though, and he makes due with kissing my neck. He moans against me, "you smell divine."

"I-it's called," I push him back, "personal hygiene."

He snakes his arms around me, "you were sent to me by the gods."

"I travelled here by accident!"

"And I plan to make good of this happy accident."

I fight him off when he claws my skirt up. I weigh my chances with screaming and with talking sense into him. I ponder of telling him my vagina is cursed, but then I think he'd be into that.

"Don't fight it," Daemon grabs my wrists, "I will quench the fires of the Targaryen blood in you that calls out to me."

"My blood does not call out to you!" I whimper.

"You may be Gryffindor by name, but you will be a Targaryen once I am done with you."

And then the doors slam open. "Your grace!"

"Harwin," I call out to the man that burst in.

Daemon growls and but does not pull away or turn, "I'm busy."

"It's Lady Hufflepuff," Harwin speaks through strained breath.

"Who?"

My stomach drops, "wait!" I push Daemon harder, "what happened to Libby?"

Daemon finally looks over his shoulder with annoyance, "what happened?"

Harwin takes a moment to respond. The dread that courses through me makes me strong enough to shove Daemon off. He grunts as I do so. I walk over to the dark haired man, "Harwin."

He clenches his jaw and turns to his feet, "I took her to the privy. She said she was having... trouble using it and that I should call a servant to help. So... I fetched a servant, but when I returned," he clears his throat, "she was gone."

I bring my hand to my mouth.

Daemon walks up behind me, "you lost a woman in King's Landing, Strong?"

"I- I did not think much of it at first," Harwin turns to Daemon, "at first I thought she may have just finished and was playing a trick on me," he glances to me but looks away at once, "but then I saw her contraption on the ground-"

I gasp.

"And then I saw a shoe... and then her headscarf-"

"Dear gods, Libby," my voice strains.

"She was taken by a group of three men," Harwin speaks sternly, "I know not for, but they've since regret their decision."

"And Libby!" I jump and grab his arm, "where is she now?!"

Harwin feels guilt eat away at him when he catches my distraught expression. He turns to me, placing a hand on my shoulder, "she's being attended to by the maesters in the ward-"

I dash to the door, intent on reaching her, though I had no idea where I was going.

"It's this way!" Daemon calls.

When I turn to see where he meant, he was already right behind me. He grabs my arm and leads me down the hall.

The moment we get to the ward, I run around and look for Libby. I am shocked solid in my place when I see the cot she is laid upon. My hands slap to my face upon catching her messy hair, dirty skin, and tattered clothes. Her waist was bound in bandages, but that didn't prevent the red to seep through from her side.

I drop to my knees and crawl all the way over to her. I yelp when I feel how cold her hands are. Hot tears burn down my cheek, "Libby, please!"

My breathing becomes more erratic.

"I've spoken to the maesters," Daemon's voice sounds from behind.

"Fucking tetanus, fucking bacterial shock-"

"They said she lost some blood but she will recov-"

"SHUT UP!" I snap and get to my feet, "YOU GET A FUCKING FEVER HERE AND YOU DIE!" I point an accusing finger, "THIS IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT!"

"ME?" Daemon snaps back, "that Strong fool was the one that took his eyes off her!"

"If you had just let us stay in your chambers like I begged you to-- but no! You wanted us to watch your stupid fucking game, you EGOTISTICAL BASTARD!"

He steps forward and barks back, "she still would have needed to go to the privy, you whining nitwit!"

"Why did they even take her?!" I whine.

Daemon does not respond.

"I do not contest that the fault is mine," another voice speaks.

Daemon and I turn to Harwin. His hands are linked in front of him, and only then do I realize they were bloody. More tears gush down my face when the man continues, "it was my duty to keep her-"

"It doesn't matter now, does it!?" I wail, waving my hands around. I fall back on my knees and turn to Libby. Her blue hair was stuck on her sweaty skin. And as I wiped her forehead, it felt like a rehash of last night, except worse. I sob, "nothing's gonna change the fact she got fucking stabbed."

Daemon looks from me to Harwin, "what of the men that took her?"

"I killed them."

My expression drops as I turn to Harwin.

The two stare at each other for a moment.

"Well, we can't question the dead, now can we," Daemon mutters, "feed their corpses to Caraxes."

"W-wait," I feel bile rise up my throat, "did- did you actually kill them?"

Harwin looks at me but doesn't respond. He walks off when Daemon orders him to get a chair. I turn to Daemon and whimper, "he didn't actually kill them... did he actually kill them?"

Daemon nods, "he did," and grabs my arms, "do not insult yourself by sitting on the floor."

For once, I do not fight him back. I let him bring me to my feet. The moment I'm stood before him, he takes my cheeks and wipes my tears.

I shake my head, "I have to take her back."

Daemon raises his brows, "you would dare to move her in such a state?"

"It's the only way she will survive," I mumble through trembling lips.

The prince looks at me for a moment. Harwin finally brings a chair. He places it beside us then stations himself by the door. Neither Daemon nor I make a move for the chair. The former asks, "and you think you can carry her all the way back?"

"Daemon," I grab his arms, "I just have to get her back. Once I'm there, it'll be half the work done."

Daemon releases a breath. He takes my silver locks and fondles with the ends, "and what if I do not want you to leave."

Fuck. "Please," I beg, "please. We both know I don't belong here."

I can see it clearly. It was so clear that those words meant nothing to him. It was talking to a brick wall. I sigh and wipe my face, "I'll do what you want. Whatever it is, I'll do, as long as you let us go by midnight."

Daemon narrows his eyes.

I muster up the most sincere expression I am capable of.

"You will give me whatever I want?"

I close my eyes and shake my head, "yes... my prince."

He does not respond. Daemon turns from me to Libby. He pulls away and calls, "Strong."

"Your grace," Harwin responds.

"She could manage on the back of an ass, could she not?"

Harwin thinks for a moment then nods, "she could."

"Then fetch me an ass," Daemon says. Harwin promptly complies.

Daemon doesn't make me do anything besides sit on his lap while we watched Libby for the rest of the night. I knew in my gut that was not what he wanted out of me, but he didn't say otherwise and I didn't bring it up. Soon enough, it was midnight and there I, Daemon, Harwin, and Libby, sat on a donkey, stood before the open gate of the castle.

Rather than thinking this was stupid and it wasn't going to fucking work, I prayed under my breath to the Seven that we be delivered from this nightmare.

But every time I felt tranquil, the donkey made a sound and I just knew it had to go. What the hell was I going to do with the donkey when I got back to the city anyway?

I clutch the satchel containing our things around my shoulders, "I'll carry her instead."

Daemon and Harwin turn to me and mutter at the same time, "what?"

"I don't want to be responsible for the donk- the animal when I get there."

"Just leave the ass behind," Daemon mutters, rather annoyed.

I grab Libby, who I was already keeping upright, and wrap her arms around my shoulders, "I can carry her."

"No, you can't," Daemon mutters.

Harwin adds, "you are not in the right mind to do this."

"Just," Daemon add, "set the beast free when-"

"I can't just let a donkey loose in King's Landing, Daemon!" I snap, "now please! Help me-"

The bells begin to ring.

I immediately panic.

A surge of adrenaline helps me gather Libby onto my back. "Fucking hell," I grunt and try to fix her on me.

Daemon shakes his hand, "here, let me-"

"I GOT IT!" I scream as the sound of the bell tolling makes my entire body burn with agitation.

I shift Libby on my back one last time and beeline to the gate.

Harwin and Daemon watch. It's impossible to tell which of them is more skeptic in the moment.

I begin to struggle and nearly trip on the annoying skirts hindering my feet. Harwin steps forward, "watch your step."

Daemon eyes him in annoyance, "how helpful."

"Fuck," I panic and begin to walk faster towards the gate, "fucking hell, it's not even that far!"

I reach the large, tunnel-like gate and can't help but close my eyes, afraid that if I could see where I was going, it wouldn't work.

Then SPLAT! I fall face down on the ground.

I scream and immediately roll Libby off me, uncaring that it hurt me, that it hurt her, and quickly get on my feet. I drag her corpse-like body across the expanse and cry as I do so.

I was manic. I was delirious. The sound of the echoing bells did not help the situation at all. I couldn't stop pleading to the gods as I tugged my best friend across the ground. I couldn't even open my eyes because I didn't think my prayers were heard.

"Enough!" a voice calls.

No. NO! That was fucking Daemon. GET THE FUCK AWAY!

I feel someone mess with Libby's body. I screech and refuse to let her go, "LET US GO, DAEMON!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

"NO!" I squeal, finally opening my eyes. I release Libby and lunge at Daemon when I spot him. We crumble to the ground. Once he's on his back, I begin to beat him. It unfortunately doesn't take long for him to overpower me.

"ENOUGH!" he barks, both my hands now trapped in his.

"LET US GO!" I cry.

Daemon shakes his head, "STOP IT!"

"WE'RE GOING BACK!" I try to punch my way out of his grip. It doesn't work.

"Look at me!" Daemon yells, "you dragged her through."

"Get off me!"

"You've done it!!"

I flinch when he shakes me.

"You did it!" Daemon exclaims as he sits up, hands cradling my shoulders, "we're in your time now."

I finally register his words. Daemon looks around, "when you said ruins, I expected an empty castle, not... ruins."

A gasp leaves me when I hear a loud roar from the sky. Daemon looks up when I do, and I calm down when I realize it was only an airplane.

"Was that a dragon?" Daemon asks.

"No," I pull away from him, "that's an-" wait. I stare at him. Daemon fucking Targaryen came back with me?

#daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon angst #daemon fluff #daemon targaryen fluff #daemon x reader #daemon x you #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen angst #daemon targaryen x you #daemon x modern!reader #hotd time travel au #hotd au #daemon crackfic #harwin fanfic #harwin strong fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic

889 notes · View notes

scentedpeachlandcreator · 1 month ago

Note

The person I like doesn't believe in long distance relationships, dates several girls and misses his ex. One day he's interested in me and the next he's not, he talks to me every 8 hours. Could I change it or not? Because I'm tired of saying yes and not seeing anything.

Yes you can change it, but girl this is obviously a red flag.

Don't and do not chase after a player, they're so toxic and they don't understand the word "serious relationship" or "commitement".

I seriously advice you to manifest your dream and ideal boyfriend like i did.

And they will be manifested into your reality and act the same way and down to the smallest details how you wanted them to act.

You Can literally make a whole document about them.

You deserve better and not this shit, know your worth, that the lesson i learned from all these past few years.

I seriously hate when i see girls that chase after those toxic guys and manifest them back, like girl they're not worth your time or attention.

Just sit there being pretty and iconic and your dream Partner will come to you and you'll meet them how you wanted it to happen.

If you're planning to manifest your dream SP then read my post.

I gave you an advice as a sister not as a blogger.

Xoxo, Eli

#law of assumption #loa tumblr #loa #loa blog #law of manifestation #how to manifest #loassumption #asks #void state #anon ask

53 notes · View notes

eunseoksimp · 5 months ago

Text

Care For You; Song Eunseok

a/n: posting a lot of my old throwaways because i haven’t had the time to sit down and write anything new yet :(

Pairings: Ex Boyfriend! Eunseok x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff at the end

Description: in the quiet of a fading evening, two souls meet where it all began. emotions simmer beneath the surface, caught between what was and what could be. in the silence, a fragile hope lingers.

Warnings: none

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

the sun was setting over the city, casting long shadows across the park where you and eunseok had first met. the memory of that day was a bittersweet ghost, lingering at the edge of your mind as you walked towards the bench where he was waiting.

eunseok sat with his back to you by the old oak tree, its gnarled branches reaching out like skeletal fingers against the dusky sky, his silhouette dark against the vibrant hues of the sky. his broad shoulders were hunched, a sign of the turmoil brewing inside him. the park was unusually quiet this evening, the usual chatter of children and joggers replaced by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the city.

as you approached him, the tension between you two was almost palpable, like a storm about to break. he turned as the sound of your footsteps neared, his eyes catching the dying light and reflecting a myriad of emotions—anger, regret, a hint of longing. you both sat in silence for a moment, the weight of your past hanging between the two of you like an unspoken promise. his gaze was fixed on the ground, his brow furrowed in thought and you could almost see the gears turning in his mind, struggling to reconcile the torrent of emotions within him.

‘you really came,’ he said, his voice flat yet loaded with unspoken words.

‘i had to,’ you replied, your own voice trembling despite your efforts to keep it steady. ‘we need to talk.’

eunseok’s laugh was bitter, a sharp contrast to the soft murmurs of the evening breeze. ‘talk? what’s left to talk about? we’ve said it all, haven’t we?’

taking a deep breath, the cool air filling your lungs with a clarity you desperately needed, you fight the urge to back down from his sharp gaze. ‘maybe we have. but we never really understood, did we?’

he stood up abruptly, shoving his hands into his pockets, his face easily betraying his emotions, of someone who was ready to walk away. ‘understand what, exactly? that we’re stuck in this endless loop of hurting each other? that every time i see you, i feel like I’m drowning in memories I can’t escape? i just want it to be over, to be over you.’

the rawness in his voice struck you like a physical blow, its pain manifesting all the same as it spread through your chest and causing a lump to form in your throat. you understood why he was speaking the way he was, but it still hurt you, to hear that the one you loved wanted nothing to do with you.

‘eunseok,’ you began softly,treading carefully as you watched his chest rise and fall. ‘hate and love, they’re not so different, you know. they’re both deep feelings, and they both show that we care. the real opposite of love isn’t hate; it’s indifference.’

his eyes flashed with a mixture of defiance and pain, like he didn’t accept what you were saying. so what are you saying? that because i hate you, it means i still love you?’

you stepped closer, close enough to see the tiny flecks of gold in his brown eyes, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body despite the chill in the air.

‘yes,’ you answered quietly. ‘it means you still care. and that means there’s something left worth saving.’

eunseok shook his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“you always were the optimist, always the person to look on the bright side,’ he muttered, half speaking to himself, but you still heard what he said.

‘have you ever thought that maybe caring isn’t enough? what if we’re just fooling ourselves?”

you reached out, hesitating for a moment before touching his arm, wanting to feel something from him. ‘maybe we are. but I’d rather fight with you and feel something, anything, than walk away and feel nothing. i know we can fix this eunseok.’

for a moment, the silence between you was thick and oppressive, weighed down with anxious thoughts and unspoken words, as if eunseok was sifting through a labyrinth of emotions, desperately searching for the right words to express the turmoil within him. then, slowly, his expression softened, the hard lines of his face easing into something almost vulnerable.

‘i don’t know if i can do this again,’ he whispered, his voice barely audible, and in the moment you wanted nothing more than to gently hold him in your arms, to caress his hair as you always did as you comforted him.

‘i thought the same way,’ you admit, your own voice cracking. ‘but i want to try. because even in our worst moments, i never felt indifferent. and that has to mean something.’

eunseok sighed, the sound heavy with years of accumulated sorrow. ‘do you remember the night i left?’ his voice was a whisper, filled with a pain that had never quite healed. ‘you begged me to stay, and i walked away. i told myself it was for the best, that we were toxic together.’

you nod, feeling the ache of that night as if it were yesterday. ‘i remember. i remember the way the door closed behind you, the way my heart shattered into pieces i thought i’d never be able to put back together.’

he looked away, the shadows deepening around you. ‘i thought about you every day. i wanted to call, to come back, but I couldn’t. my pride, my anger, it wouldn’t let me. i hated you for making me feel so weak, so vulnerable.’

‘i hated you too,’ you confessed, voice breaking. ‘for leaving me, for making me doubt everything we had. but the hate was always mixed with love, always tangled up in the memories of the good times.’

eunseok turned back to you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. ‘we hurt each other so much. yet here we are. maybe that means something.’

��maybe it does,’ you said, heart pounding in your chest. ‘maybe it means we’re not done yet. maybe it means we still have a chance to make things right.’

he took a step closer, closing the distance between you. ‘i’m scared,’ he admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. ‘i’m scared of failing again, of losing you all over again.’

you reached up, gently cupping his face in your hands. ‘we might fail. but we might succeed. and we’ll never know unless we try.’

eunseok’s eyes searched yours, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw a glimmer of hope. it was fragile, like the first buds of spring after a long, harsh winter, but it was there.

‘okay,’ he said finally, his voice steadying. ‘let’s try.’

you both sat down on the bench, the same one where your journey had begun, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you talked. really talked.

you shared your fears, your hopes, your dreams, and your regrets. there were moments of laughter and moments of tears, but through it all, there was an undeniable connection—a reminder of the bond that had brought you together in the first place.

as the hours passed and the night deepened, you found yourselves leaning into each other, the barriers that had kept you apart slowly crumbling. there was no need for grand gestures or dramatic declarations. it was enough to simply be there, side by side, facing the unknown together.

eunseok’s voice was soft, almost reverent, as he spoke. ‘do you remember the night we danced under the stars? we had no music, just the sound of the wind and our own laughter.’

you nodded, a smile spreading across your face. ‘how could i forget? it was one of the happiest nights of my life.’

he stood up, holding out his hand. ‘dance with me, then. no music, just us.’

you hesitated for a moment, then took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. you moved slowly, swaying to an imaginary melody, your bodies fitting together as if they had never been apart. the world around you faded, leaving only the rhythm of your hearts and the gentle whisper of the wind.

in that moment, you realised that love and hate were indeed intertwined, two sides of the same coin. and as long as you cared enough to fight, to try, to hope, there was always a chance for redemption.

he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. ‘one day at a time,’ he murmured, echoing your earlier words.

‘one day at a time,’ you agreed, your voice steady with newfound resolve.

as you stood there, wrapped in the darkness of the night, you felt a fragile hope blossom within you. it wasn’t a promise of an easy road or a perfect ending, but it was a start. and sometimes, a start was all you needed.

#riize imagines #riize #riize x reader #riize imagine #riize scenarios #riize x imagine #riize sungchan #riize smut #riize angst #riize eunseok #song eunseok smut #song eunseok #eunseok angst #eunseok imagines #eunseok x reader #eunseok

52 notes · View notes

insolentgod · 1 year ago

Text

⚠️Attention:⚠️ very long post. It talks a little about: state of lack, take your desire off the pedestal, time it takes for a manifestation, get distracted about your manifestation , self-concept, and Cassies

one more night high and having crazy epiphanies about manifestations. and another day using a translator to translate my text to post here, because I haven't claimed to be fluent in English yet 😛 So, as I always warn, if there are possible grammatical errors, it's for this reason.

I'm here to bring you an analogy I created while discussing with a friend haha. (Yes, this time there's nothing about lana del rey!)

you know those people who humiliate themselves for others? Who do everything for someone specific to love them, try to talk to them even if it's unhealthy, or beg them to stay in their lives. (yes, it's quite depressing and sad)

i haven't been like that much in life, usually when someone didn't care about me, i cared even less about them. but I won't lie, there have been situations where I may have humiliated myself a little, but it's human.

anyway, going straight to my analogy, let's imagine that you struggling to manifest something is a friend "Cassie," and the manifestation will be her ex-boyfriend, okay? (i swear it will make sense in the end)

what I write outside the parentheses is Cassie's situation, and what's inside the parentheses is possibly the situation you're going through on your manifestation journey.

okay, you have this friend Cassie who keeps saying that her ex-boyfriend doesn't care about her, doesn't respond to messages, and shows no signs, and she's going crazy and desperate about it (just like you when you see no progress in your manifestation). so she does EVERYTHING to get him back (just like you when you try multiple methods non-stop and feel needy). and as Cassie's friend, you think, "poor cassie, she doesn't deserve to suffer like this" (and she really doesn't deserve it, just as you don't deserve to suffer for your manifestations). there are also moments when she sends a message for you saying, "I'll forget him this time, I promise." but after two days, she's there messaging him again (just like you affirm on the first day all motivated and trying to convince yourself that this time your manifestation will come true, but after a few days, you see no progress and start panicking), and then she gets very sad because she thinks they will never get back together and she will never be happy with him again (just like you think you can't manifest anything, that the universe hates you, that you will never get what you want, that the loa doesn't work). But meanwhile, there are other people out there getting back with their exes and you admire them, wondering what it would be like if it were you... (just like when you look at other people's success stories and think "why can't I do it?") spoiler: You can do it too, honey. If everyone else can do it, so can you. Wake up.

If I were Cassie's friend, I would tell her to STOP acting like that and start valuing herself and just distract herself. because let's be honest, men ALWAYS come back, right? 🤣 and many people may disagree with me on this and think that if she doesn't chase after the guy, he won't come either. but that's how it works for me, even before I started using the law. every time I started valuing myself and stopped begging for others' love, the person came to me. so let's agree with my thinking on this, okay?

and one more point that I think is worth mentioning is that if Cassie really doesn't want to do this alone, maybe a manifestation coach would be a good idea (if it were a real situation, I would suggest her to seek a therapist). There are nuances about "manifestation coaches," I honestly don't use them and I recommend working on your self-concept. but it's an option if you want, but please do thorough research and find a trustworthy one.

returning, what can you do to not be another Cassie? I'm telling you to stop doing whatever you're doing to try to achieve your desire? no. just get out of the state of neediness and desperation, like a Cassie. you don't need that, my love. you don't need to worry, "Is my manifestation coming?" You don't need to use a thousand methods because you don't think it's enough. whatever you believe will bring your desires, will indeed bring your desire. If you believe that jumping three times, building a castle, and kicking an elderly person will give you what you want, guess what? If you do all that, then you will get what you desire. and if you believe that affirming once in your life will get you a beachfront mansion, guess what? you will achieve that.

so, to not be a Cassie:

1 - trust what you're saying, please trust yourself. nnow that ONLY WHAT YOU THINK is the truth, and it will be. (my last long post talks about this exactly, I highly recommend it, okay).

2 - take your desire off the pedestal. your desire may be your biggest dream in life, I don't care. take it off the pedestal. the powerful person who can have anything they want is YOU, not your desire. tou are a thousand times greater than your desire. you don't chase after your desire, your desire chases after you. you know when manifestation coaches tell you to start manifesting just a blue butterfly or a candy? well, it's because for you, that's not difficult. It's something you find easy to manifest and know it's totally possible to have. but you can literally manifest a Porsche at the same speed as manifesting an ice cream, okay? take your desire off the pedestal; you are fully capable of having it.

3 - get out of the state of lack. In the law of assumption, some people talk a lot about states and some manifest just by being in the state of the wish fulfilled and ready, they succeed. but the state of lack is literally when you feel the lack, the absence of your desire. you don't feel like you have it or you don't feel worthy of it, so you probably fall into a spiral of despair with millions of thoughts like "what will I do if I don't achieve it?" "I don't see any progress" "time is passing and I don't have my results". Anyway,

- But what do I do to heal my state of lack?

just don't be in it 💐💐💐 yes, it's easy, okay. please believe that it's easy and it will be. I know it's very easy to affirm when you're motivated, especially after reading a success story. but motivation doesn't last forever and I don't think it's healthy for you to keep restoring your motivation by reading success stories all the time. there's nothing wrong with it, but you don't need success stories to heal. every time you feel like you're entering the state of lack, start trusting yourself. when it happens to me, I start affirming "none of this, I have my desires" "I don't care about what my 3D shows me" "I have what I want", I also imagine myself with my desire as if I really have it now. I'll admit, there are times when I start affirming this to avoid entering the state of lack and at first it feels like I'm feeling wrong, the feeling of hopelessness even. but regardless of how I feel, I keep visualizing and eventually start feeling strong and motivated again. in those moments, you have to be strong and disciplined with yourself, okay? you can do it.

4 - try not to care about time or the 3D reality. i know it's difficult, but please live in your imagination and believe that if you have it in your imagination, you have it now. about time, it depends, okay? Some people manifest in seconds because they believe they can, while others manifest in weeks because they think it takes weeks. if you're the second type of person, you can definitely manifest in seconds if you allow yourself to do so. self-concept affirmations help a lot in this aspect. Just don't worry about time in the 3D reality. If you know that in your mind you have your desire NOW, then you have it now. once you're fully living in your imagination, it will come in the 3D reality. I know it's difficult, but just trust yourself and your mind. I promise that if you live 100% in your mind, your desire can come very quickly.

5 - distract yourself! don't spend the whole day thinking about your desire. usually, the desire comes when you accept that you have it and continue living your life. I know it's complicated, especially when it's something you want, but distract yourself to avoid excessive and negative thoughts about your manifestations. and please get off tumblr for a while

6 - improve your self-concept, please. Just do that, and your manifestation journey will be much easier.

I think that's it for today. I talked a lot as always 😛😛

I usually don't respond to people asking for help here on my blog (mainly because I don't receive any requests) but if you're having problems, you can send me a message, and I'll respond ❤‍🩹 I just want to help someone like loa bloggers helped me when I needed it. good night everyone, and stay hydrated.

234 notes · View notes

ahhnini · 8 months ago

Note

Heyyy your writing is so good!! I'm so hooked thank you so much for thattttt...

SO...(IGNORE IF YOU HATE IT, SORRY IF I MADE YOU FEEL UMCOFORTABLE!!!!) I was dying on your cheater ex rafe cameron and oh my god perfection very happy and fluff at the end but if you make like, a alternate destructive ending?? Maybe Rafe comes back from the rehab and apparently he moved, he has a healthy relationship with the reader and jason but... When Rafe is alone with the reader hes the old rafe, hitting on reader and all that and the reader keeps getting confused and tempted because maybe Jason is a bit off or Jason is TOO perfect and the reader never stopped loving Rafe and one day the reader gives in and feels terrible afterwards but then realizes that they belong to Rafe. Also a scene where Rafe and Jason get into a fight and unknowingly the reader goes to Rafe's aid instead of Jason's... IDK I LOVE YOUU BYEEEE

a night to remember - cheater!ex! rafe cameron x cheater!reader

part one / part two

synopsis - an enchanting night with rafe has you contemplating your relationship with your boyfriend

tysm for the request!! i’m glad you’re enjoying this little series!! (dw you didn’t make me uncomfy at all!) hope you like this!

warnings - alternate ending to better things & I wish you love (please read those two parts first!), alcohol consumption, infidelity (from reader), implied sex, relapsing mention, canon divergent, gaslighting (from reader), profanity, slow burn

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

word count - 3.8k

divider credits - roseraris

a/n - can yall tell laufey is one of my fav artists 😭

ask box is open for requests!

rafe felt like an outsider. he felt like his life froze after he left for rehab. now that he was back in the obx, he watched as everyone’s lives moved on, including yours, while his stood still.

meanwhile, your relationship with jason was going…okay. truth was, he was fine. the honeymoon phase was long over, now it feels like he’s becoming more demanding of your time.

you didn’t mind it at first, it’s nice to spend time together, you think. you were happy to spend time with your boyfriend. it made you feel loved

but then he became more clinger. and it made you uncomfortable because now all he ever wanted to do was be with you. he’s now bringing up topics you weren’t particularly comfortable with, such as marriage and kids. while you’d love to talk about these things with him, it unsettled you. he was passionate about these things, and almost made it seem like he was manifesting it for you two. you don’t engage in the conversation, just softly humming and nodding your head. because,

he’ll stop eventually, right?

except, he hasn’t. you two were at a party, it was at one of his friend’s houses. it was in full swing, strobe lights blasting and people dancing to music you didn’t listen to. you were in the backyard, drink in your hand while jason had his arm around you while he rambled your ear away about nonexistent wedding plans. it started to really annoy you, so you made the excuse of needing to go to the bathroom to touch up.

reluctantly, he agreed. you handed him your drink as you walked inside the house. it was dark, so you held onto the walls to use as your guide. you didn’t actually know where the restroom was, you just needed to get away from your overbearing boyfriend.

then, you see him. rafe.

he was back? when? your mom never bothered to tell you. but then again, you barely see her anymore so maybe she knew. you stare at him with wide eyes, hoping the dark ambiance of the party didn’t let him see you standing like a creep. you find a quiet corner and sigh, clutching your chest. it was a feeling you were all too familiar with, it was the same feeling you had when you first started dating rafe and your current boyfriend jason.

why is he making your heart flutter again? you thought you were over him. you bring out your phone from your pocket and text jason

hey, not feeling well. think i’m gonna go home.

okay, i’ll drive you. meet me out front

grabbing your things, you meet your boyfriend at the front yard.

rafe was conflicted. he didn’t want to be at this party, but at the same time, it made him feel welcomed. he knew people would be doing drugs here, it was a given to any party on figure eight, almost like a ritual. he knew there was a chance that he would relapse again, but he trusted himself enough to not give into the temptation.

only a few people knew where he truly went. his family and yours knew that he went to rehab. everyone else? they were told he had some business overseas.

he just wanted to feel at home again. and that’s when he saw you. he had been grabbing a beer from one of the coolers in the backyard, and he saw your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you; he was saying something, and you looked visibly bored. this was the first time he saw you and your boyfriend after he left, and he noticed something was different. as he stares at you for a couple more moments, he sighs, knowing your relationship was none of his business and makes his way back inside the house.

you looked drained, he thinks. again, he shakes those thoughts away, opening his beer and taking a sip. he stares at the floor, not caring about the girl who's eyeing him across the room. he sees her, she was definitely not making her advances subtle. rafe rolls his eyes at her, even though he knows she can't see him. he quickly downs the beer before deciding he's had enough of the night. he's caught up with the people he hasn't seen in a while, had a couple of drinks and had his fun on the makeshift dance floor. he shoved his way past the girl, who attempted to grab his shoulder in the process, and went to his bike parked outside.

your head hurt. after jason dropped you off last night, you slumped on your bed and he went home. here you were, staring at the celling, not knowing what time it was, hungover. you hold your head in your hands as you try to relieve your headache, ultimately deciding to go downstairs to have a drink of water.

no one's home, good. your family won't see you hungover and give you a three hour lecture about why drinking is bad. you quickly chug down a glass of cold water, feeling hydrated immediately. you make yourself a bowl of cereal and slouch on your sofa, staring into space.

you think about rafe, god damnit. he hasn't occupied your thoughts in so long. you shove spoonfuls of cereal in your mouth as you become frustrated with your own mind, turning on the tv to distract yourself.

should you unblock him? he seems in a much better state from when you last saw him. you bite your lip as your finger hovered over the unblock button. quickly, you tap it, letting a breath out you didn't know you were holding. that's the easiest part done, you think. you stared at the empty text conversation, breath quickening once again. you hesitate. you have a boyfriend, you're in a loving relationship, what were you doing?

you fight with yourself. you don't know if it was the headache or your impulses taking over, but you did it. you texted rafe. you told yourself that you two could still remain friends. you were waiting for a text back, only sending a simple hey. you tapped your fingers on the back of your phone case, ears perking up at every notification. you shouldn't be feeling like this, you tell yourself over and over again.

you don't know how you got here. you were at a cafe with your boyfriend and...rafe? he responded to your text, and wanted to meet up for coffee. you were still reluctant to be with him, alone, so you asked him if jason could come as well. rafe agreed. it was awkward, and all three of you sat in absolute silence, taking occasional sips of coffee and breaking off your croissant to eat.

jason clears his throat, and you look at him for what he was going to say. “how’ve you been?” he says, asking rafe. his response was dry, “fine.” you let out a small hum, trying to dissolve the tension. rafe glances at you, then looks down at his plate. you speak up, “it’s good seeing you again, rafe. glad you’re doing better now.” rafe nods. “alright — it’s obvious there’s some tension here,” jason says your name, “why did you want to meet up with him in the first place?” you lick your dry lips before speaking, “uh, just wanted to…clear the bad blood…wanted to be friends again. it’s not good, actively attempting to avoid each other on the island.” rafe nods his head, “yeah, what I did to you was…horrible to say the least. but, it’s been a long time, and I’m sorry.” your eyes widen, he’s apologizing? rafe, apologizing? you thought you’d never hear it. you stare at him before replying, “I— thank you for apologizing rafe. uh, like I said in our texts, I’m ready to start a friendship with you,” you sigh. jason’s eyes narrow, before interrupting what you were gonna say next, “just friends, right?” “of course, babe”

it was a warm, sunny day. rafe invited you and jason on his yacht for a picnic. things were going well, but you wished you could be with rafe without your boyfriend breathing down your neck. it was seriously starting to bother you. it made you feel insecure that your boyfriend couldn’t trust you to hang out with a friend. did he think you were unfaithful? you were above that kind of thing, you think. you put a piece of cantaloupe in your mouth as you watch the boys swim through the water. you lay down, staring at the blue sky.

after a while, you noticed you didn’t hear any splashing, and become concerned. you immediately stood up and looked at the blue water, not seeing any bodies moving. oh god, oh no. your mind goes to the worst scenario possible and you move to the lower deck to bring out the buoys. you hold two buoys in each of your arms and prepare to go into the water. when you reach the top step of the ladder, you feel a pair of arms quickly wrap around your legs. having no time to react, you scream as you fall down and splash into the cold ocean. you quickly swim up and gasp for air, your face in shock. you turn around and see jason and rafe snickering like little boys. your face twisted and you bite the inside of your cheek in annoyance, throwing the buoys that strayed from your arms in their direction. “not funny,” you grumble. “oh, c’mon, it was a little funny,” jason replies as he comes behind you and grabs your waist gently, guiding you back up the ladder. as you wrap the towel around your wet body, you softly chuckle. jason and rafe getting along, you thought you’d never see the day.

your friendship with rafe was going better than expected. you were both at tannyhill, hanging out at his living room. jason went to cancun for a week, and he was coming back in a few days. the awkwardness between you and rafe dissolved, and you both were playing monopoly while a low-budget movie plays in the background. “so,” rafe drags out, “how are you and your little boyfriend?” “we’re doing good…” you say, quietly, hesitating to tell him about your boyfriend’s current…problems… you look at him, there was a glint in his eyes that looked all too familiar. you missed it — what? you subconsciously shake your head, stop, you have a boyfriend. you two are just friends now. “it’s your turn to roll,” rafe says, pulling you away from your thoughts, “huh? oh, sorry” “what’s on your mind?” rafe asks, gently putting his hand on yours. “nothing, I just miss jason I guess,” you don’t move your hand, letting him intertwine your fingers with yours. “waiting for him to take you away from me again?” he exaggerates a pout, and you roll your eyes. there’s that old rafe. he never truly left. “it’s your turn, now,” you reply, ignoring his snide comment. rafe sighs, letting go of your hand, “i’m bored and hungry. do you wanna order delivery or something?” “yeah, sure.” he pulls out his phone, “what are you in the mood for, sweetheart?” your heart flutters at the nickname, and you stumble over your words, “i’m down for whatever, honestly.” “pizza?” “sure, why not,” you shrug. he nods his head as he pushed a couple of buttons on his phone, and you stare at the floor. “got it, a simple pepperoni pizza; your favorite,” he smiles before continuing, “it’ll be here in thirty.” “perfect,” you respond.

you laugh at a stupid joke rafe said, “stop! you’re gonna make me choke!” you said through your laughter, a greasy pizza in your hand. he softly chuckles and says your name, “it wasn’t that funny, why are you laughing?” “it was! your joke was hilarious, rafe,” you calm your breathing down, smiling at him. the weather cooled down by the time the pizza arrived, so you both ate by the pool, wading your feet in the water. rafe looks at you again, the same look he’s been giving to you all day, and the same look he gave to you when you were both still in a relationship. you take another bite of the pizza and stare out into the view. “you should stay the night, sweetheart,” rafe says suddenly, and you turn your head towards him. he’s been calling you that more often. you shake your head, “are you sure?” rafe gives you a boyish smile, “yeah, it’ll be like…old times. you don’t have to sleep in my room, but i’d like you to.”

“rafe. we can’t do that, I have a boyfriend, remember?”

“yeah?” he looks around, “but I don’t see him anywhere, and plus, we’ll be sleeping in the same bed as friends, not as a hookup or anything like that. like a…sleepover,” he was still a manipulative little shit. you sigh, knowing he always gets what he wants, “fine.”

this felt nostalgic, laying in bed with rafe. it was silly to think about; you vowed to never go back to rafe, and here you were, laying on his bed as you did many nights throughout your relationship. you felt guilty. even though you know this “sleepover” is platonic, you couldn’t stop thinking about the suggestive undertone it had. and you had a boyfriend who was out of town, how would he react?

“I can basically hear your thoughts, sweetheart,” rafe says, turning his body towards you. “stop calling me that,” you say, turning your head towards him. “why? you didn’t tell me to stop calling you that earlier,” he says, voice as smug as ever. under the blankets, he ghosts his fingers along your waist, prompting you to move closer to him. like routine, your body moves closer towards his, until he pulls your backside flush against his chest, mouth close to your ear as he whispers, “I know you still miss me, you’re not happy with him.” “rafe, we shouldn’t—this is so wrong—”

“I know, but it’s exciting, isn’t it? knowing your boyfriend won’t be here to interrupt,” you can practically hear him smirk.

he’s right, your boyfriend wouldn’t be here to interrupt. boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend, your mind keeps saying. in a haze, you crane your neck towards him, and seal your lips together. he kisses back with more desire, inhaling you like you were his last breath. he wraps his arms tighter around your waist and changed position; him on top of you. you both continue making out, your head in a daze as you begin to undress rafe. he pulls the soft white sheets over the both of you, and you could’ve swore you heard him mumble finally.

you regret everything. you cheated on your boyfriend, and with rafe of all people. the ex who cheated on you. you wake up surrounded by the catastrophe that happened last night. clothes on the floor, messy sheets, the memory of rafe’s touch lingered on your skin like a tattoo, and you turn your head to see him peacefully sleeping. last night lit up the spark that dwindled between you two.

fuck, you still love him. you gently brush his hair away from his face, and sigh. god, you were so, so stupid. you sat up, checking your phone, and seeing a text from jason.

hey! just got back! heading over to your place in 10 ❤️

he sent that twenty minutes ago. you’re hoping your mom didn’t tell him you were at rafe’s, but judging how he’s not rampaging through tannyhill at the moment, you assumed she didn’t. you can’t believe it. your feelings for rafe never left after all. you stand up, regret and guilt fill your aura as you pick up your clothes from the floor and dress yourself, leaving tannyhill.

it was all you could think about. jason was having tea with your mom when you came through the front door, your mom telling him that you spent the night at a friend’s house. he kissed you, and you recoiled. he looked at you confused and excused himself from the table with your mom, heading upstairs to your room.

you still smelled like him. did he notice?

you sat down on the bed and he holds up the bag of souvenirs, saying that it was all yours.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all throughout my trip. it sucks that we didn’t have any service, but I bought you gifts that reminded me of you,” he says sweetly. “t-thank you…” you trail off, staring at him with guilt.

how were you supposed to tell him?

he sits down with you on the bed, wrapping an arm around you. “you okay?” “yeah, yeah,” he smiles, gently kissing you on the cheek. “you use a new perfume or something?” “uh—yeah, went shopping while you were away,” sweat forms in your palms. “oh, okay…hey, I wanna talk to you about something…about…rafe if you don’t mind,” jason says, while kissing you on your forehead. “yeah? what is it?” you say, quicker than you wanted to.

“he’s cool and all, but…don’t you think he likes you a little too much?” “what are you talking about, jason?” you hear him sigh, “just…I think we should keep our distance from him. don’t you think? he’s trying to get in the way of our relationship,” he plays with your hair while you stare at the floor. “I don’t think so, he’s just being polite. he’s changed, you know,” you shrug. “if being polite means flirting with my girlfriend, then hell yes he’s being polite,” his voice slightly raised. “what’s your problem?” you suddenly outburst, staring at him with angry eyes. “what’s my problem? what’s your problem?! i’ve been wanting to have this conversation with you ever since the cafe meet up. I thought it was so weird that you would want to become friends with rafe, especially with how you were complaining about him to me throughout the beginning of our relationship!” he lets out with a huff. “it’s almost like you still love him,” he quietly says.

that set you off

“can you hear what you’re saying right now? why would I be with my ex who I had a complicated past with! you’re paranoid, rafe and I are literally just friends and I swear by that,” you plead with him. his shoulders slump, defeated. he says your name, “you don’t notice it, but I do. this whole ‘friendship’ rafe has with you is gonna blow up sooner or later,” he slams your door, leaving your house. your mouth agape, you collapse onto your bed, tears flowing from your eyes.

jason hasn’t answered his texts or calls. it was starting to irritate you, but at the same time, you understood his frustration. you decide to stop contacting him after a while, letting him cool down.

you were at brunch at the country club with your mom. she invited you after she noticed you were feeling down, claiming that the sunlight should cheer you up. a couple of people in your age group were also here, gossiping while eating a late breakfast. usually, you don’t listen to it, but then you heard the names rafe and jason, and you froze. your head shot up and you began eves-dropping the table next to you. you listened until they said something about a fight at a party last night, and even though there was a chance that it was just gossip, there might still be some truth in there. you reacted fast, dropping your fork. you tell your mom and rose that you aren’t feeling well, and they were more than understanding.

you ride your bike through figure eight until tannyhill comes into view. what are you doing? jason’s house is down the street, check on him. as soon as you know it, you’re running towards the front door of tannyhill. you knock on the door, harsher than you expected, and you’re greeted by ward. “good morning mr. cameron, is rafe home?” “uh—yes, he is, but…he’s not in the best shape,” he says gruffly. so it’s true. you stare at ward for a moment before finally speaking up again, “I was wondering if I can still see him? please, mr. cameron.” he thinks for a moment, before finally opening up the door, “he’s upstairs, in his room.”

you knock on rafe’s door before coming in. he’s laying down, holding an ice pack and putting in on his black eye. his good eye widens as he sees you running towards his bed, hugging him. “rafe, oh my god! what happened?” he lightly groans, and you pull away.

“your little boyfriend happened, that’s what,” his voice is strained. “but—why—” “he said something about me ruining your relationship,” you see him roll his eyes before continuing, “jealous fucker.”

you stand up, exiting his room and walking over to the balcony. you run a hand through your hair as you press the call button on jason’s contact, answering immediately this time.

you practically scream at him though the phone.

“what the hell is wrong with you? you get mad at me for being friends with rafe and then beat him up?,” on the other line, jason chuckles, “I knew it, I knew you still had a thing for him.” your body tenses up, “no I don’t, i’m saying this because you beat up one of your friends for your own delusions!” jason says your name, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, “don’t play that game with me. I know what you and rafe did. you two slept together while I was away,” he scoffs, “heard from sarah. turns out she heard you two”

you go silent.

jason speaks up again, “anyways, we’re done, have fun with rafe. I hope he cheats on you again,” he hangs up.

you stand there, mouth agape, phone in your hand. things were happening too fast, you needed to sit down. before you know it, you’re stumbling into rafe’s room, face as pale as a ghost, and you lay down next to him.

“rafe, i’m so stupid,” you let out, he replies “yeah, sometimes you are, sweetheart.” he turns around, looking at you, holding your face with his free hand.

“he was a weirdo anyway,” you quietly speak, voice almost at a whisper.

you end up falling asleep on rafe’s bed. you wake up to him lightly playing with your hair. however, you keep your eyes closed, wanting to savor the moment. you really loved rafe. even though he treated you like crap throughout your relationship, you slowly realized that it was because that was the only way he knew how to love. him coming back made you realize that. and rafe never stopped loving you either. you open your eyes slowly and softly speak,

“I love you, rafe.”

91 notes · View notes