#More than the crushing blow of rejection

[yesterdayiwrote]

It always fucking sucks when you get chatting to new moots on here who you really like and feel like you're vibing with and then they unfollow you out of nowhere and you realise they actually probably thought you were a cunt all along and you severely misread the situation... 😬

[uzurakis]

jjk men w gf who’s overly sensitive and they said something that hurt her feelings? ^___^

FALLING INTO ARGUMENTS?!

featuring: megumi fushiguro. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. geto suguru.

n. nonnie, allow me to spice your req a bit by make them getting into arguments which hurts your feelings in the process. sorry it took a longer time to write this cause i really don’t want to mess their characterization on this one t—t you also didn’t say i need to end it with comfort so…

GOJO SATORU.

the atmosphere was heavy with tension, as if every breath you took stirred up a storm of unresolved emotions. the soft glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows across the room, accentuating the lines of frustration etched into gojo satoru’s face. his piercing gaze fixed into yours, a silent challenge hanging between both like a veil of uncertainty.

as you stood before him, the weight of his dismissive words bore down on you like a crushing weight. it was as if every syllable was a dagger aimed straight at your heart, each one leaving a deep, painful wound that threatened.

you cried out, "i can help, satoru," your voice quivering with a mix of hurt and desperation. "please, just let me help you."

however, his reply felt akin to a blow to the face. "i don’t need your help, alright?" he yelled, his voice snapping like a whip. "i've got this covered myself.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating, filling the space between you guys with a palpable sense of defeat.

you begged, your voice almost audible, "but satoru, we're supposed to be in this together. i thought you trusted me. isn't that what relationships are built out of?”. nevertheless, his expression remained impassive, a mask of indifference that hid the pain lurking beneath the surface. “trust has nothing to do with it," he replied, voice colder than you had ever heard it before. "i do better alone."

with those comments, the abyss between you and gojo deepened, threatening to swallow both whole. then as you turned to leave his room, the weight of his rejection settled like a stone in your gut, leaving only a hollow ache and the bitter taste of regret.

the silence of the room was deafening, broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning and the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat. every fiber of his being screamed for him to go after you, to swallow his pride and beg for your forgiveness, but something held him back, he didn’t want to pull you into his mess any further.

with a heavy sigh, gojo sank into his chair, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he let out a long, ragged breath. the weight of his actions settled on him like a leaden blanket, suffocating him with its suffocating embrace.

tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he blinked them back, refusing to let himself break down in the face of his own weakness. he had always prided himself on his strength, on his ability to handle any situation with ease and confidence, but now, in the aftermath of this argument, he felt more vulnerable than ever before.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

"are you okay, megumi?" you asked softly as you reached out to touch his shoulder.

his usually calm demeanor was replaced by a tense energy that crackled in the air, setting your nerves on edge as he flinched away from your touch, his expression hardening as he turned to face you.

he snapped, "i'm fine," in a tone that was unlike anything you had ever heard. "stop asking me that."

the words were like a slap to the face, leaving you feeling with hurt and confusion. all you had wanted was to help him, to ease the burden he carried on his shoulders, but instead, you found myself faced with a wall of anger and resentment.

you tried to protest whilst trembling with suppressed emotions. "you know you can always talk to me, right? you don't have to go through this alone." yet he shook his head, his eyes dark with pain as he pushed you away. "i said i'm fine!” insisted, tone slightly went higher. "just leave me alone."

the tears threatened to spill over, but you just held it down and bit your lips. with a heavy heart, you turned and left his room.

as the door closed behind you, megumi let out a frustrated growl, the sound muffled by the empty room. he cursed himself silently, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as the weight of his harsh words settled heavily on his shoulders.

"damn it," he muttered under his breath, very much thick with regret. "fuck you, fushiguro.”

the memory of your hurt expression haunted him, a reminder of the pain he had caused with his thoughtless words. he had never meant to hurt you, never intended to push you away, but in his fear and uncertainty, he had lashed out without thinking, building walls around himself to keep you out.

now, as he stood alone in the quiet solitude of his room, he realized the magnitude of his mistake. he had pushed away the one person who had always been there for him, the one person who had never given up on him, and now he was left to face the consequences of his actions.

with a heavy sigh, the man sank onto his bed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of the mess he had created. he knew that he needed to apologize, to make things right, but the thought of facing you again filled him with a sense of dread.

ITADORI YUUJI

under the soft glow of streetlights, yuuji and you found yourselves standing at the edge of a heated argument that threatened to consume the bond between you. the cool night air was heavy with tension, each word you and he exchanged hanging in the air like a cloud of unresolved emotions.

"i just wish you would trust me, yuuji." you said, sounding frustrated as you looked for any indication that he might understand.

however, he shook his head, his expression stubborn and closed off. "i do trust you, but this is different. i need to handle this on my own, babe.”

his remarks pierce deeply. it seemed that he was shutting you down even though all you wanted to do was to help him. you looked at yuuji and said, "i can't just watch you struggle."

"just, give me some time alone, okay?”

the hurt in his voice mirrored your own. as you watched him walk away, the sting of his words lingered like a bitter taste in your mouth. just as you turned to leave, you heard him call out your name, his voice filled with panic and regret. "wait! baby, i'm sorry. i didn't mean it like that."

you turned back to face him, the ache in your chest easing slightly at the sight of his vulnerability. in that moment, you understood that beneath his tough exterior, he was just as scared and uncertain as you were.

"it's okay, yuuji," you calmed him down, reaching out to take his hand in yours. "we'll figure this out together."

GETO SUGURU

you couldn't stand idly by as suguru pushed himself into further depression from time and time again, and tonight, you had finally reached your breaking point.

"suguru, you need to take better care of yourself," you begged, tinged with frustration and concern. "you can't keep treating yourself like this."

“is there really nothing i can do to help you?”

only he scoffed at your worries, waving off your concerns with a dismissive gesture, expression stubborn and unyielding. "i'm fine, babe.” with a deep sigh, geto suguru pointed out, "and what would you know about my problems, huh?" he reacted with resentment.

those words cut deep, leaving you mourning with hurt and disbelief.

"suguru..” you claimed, “do you really think i would just stand there as you destroy yourself? when you mean so much to me?”

his eyes softened at your words, a flicker of regret passing over his features before he shook his head, expression hardening as he turned away from you. "i don't need your help," he spat.

“i can take care of myself."

the finality of his words hung in the air like a heavy weight, crushing the last vestiges of hope that lingered in.

"fuck, i'm sorry," he murmured right before you decided to walk away. "i didn't mean to worry you."

“i, i just don’t know what to do with myself. shit, i’m so sorry.”

you turned back to face him, tears welling in your eyes as he crossed the room to pull you into a tight embrace. his familiar arms curled around you, providing comfort and warmth despite the tension. you could feel his heartbeat against yours, a rhythm that expressed both guilt and tenderness. at last, words were unnecessary as you allowed the quiet to envelope both, saying more than any apology could.

@uzurakis — requests are open! <3

[yanderenightmare]

soft boyfriend headcanons with Gojo plez🥺

Gojo Satoru ! Boyfriend Headcanons

TW: tons of fluff ig, Set in a real-life au

fem reader

EARLY STAGES OF THE RELATIONSHIP

He’s not joking when he says it was love at first sight.

But, obviously, you brush him off as a total player.

Not convinced by his confession in the slightest, you reject him multiple times.

Like, come on… that’s the school’s number one pretty boy, known for having a new girl on his arm every other week or so. You have absolutely zero ambition of being one of them.

You laugh at all his silly gestures—dumb pick-up lines at parties, flowers, chocolates, and letters in your locker, flirty passerby compliments to and from in between classes. 

Oh, but then, cue the grandest of all gestures…

The public massive confession with banners, confetti, a lovesong in the background, and him with a megaphone in the middle of campus—professing his undying crush on you—down on both knees while begging you, “Please go out with me!”

You’ve never been more embarrassed in all your life. You feel like running away, but how could you say no in front of so many people?

And that’s how you end up on the first date with him.

He takes you to an amusement park.

You haven’t been in ages. It feels strange to be there on a date, older than any of the other kids you see running around with stressed parents on their heels.

It feels like a prank is being pulled. You’re waiting for the pig’s blood to fall. But halfway through, you somehow end up forgetting all about it.

To your surprise, Gojo actually seems like quite a genuine guy.

Sure, he’s more charm and flirt than deep conversation, but… you don’t know… there’s something really amazing about him too…

He doesn’t do anything inappropriate. 

The farthest he goes is holding your hand when pulling you along to the next rollercoaster. And asks to have a taste of your ice cream. He tells you that you have to name the plushie he won for you, Satoru—then pokes fun at how he tricked you into finally calling him by his first name.

It's funny, but you’d always thought Satoru was a pigheaded jerk, but it turns out he’s actually just a silly boy.

And there’s something really endearing about it.

It scares you at first—how fast and easily you fell in love with him.

You hadn’t wanted to—scared he’d drop you like he’d done all those other girls who came before you.

But then you find out—he hasn’t really dated anyone at all—all rumors made by those obsessed with him.

Sure, he’s been confessed to plenty of times, but he’s not about to jump into a relationship with girls he’s never even seen before.

That would be crazy.

“In all honesty, girls like that kinda scare me…”

You realize your perception of Gojo Satoru couldn’t have been any more wrong.

And you only stand to be corrected again and again the more you get to know him better.

He’s the boy version of “I’m not like other girls”

He doesn’t like meat, he likes sweets—for every meal. It’s concerning. 2 am convenience store runs are a constant occurrence with him. It’s a wonder he’s got the body he has—it’s that boy metabolism.

At parties, he doesn’t drink beer, he’ll drink little syrupy things instead. Oh, and jello shots. If they’re all gone, bet that most of than are in Gojo’s stomach.

But he doesn’t need to be drunk to be clingy and cuddly and needy and not afraid to show it. However, he does get sloppier after drinking—all but draping you with his entire weight, kissing any part of you he can get his lips on.

He confesses his love for you every day, hugs you every time he sees you, then whines about how he’s missed you—even when it’s just been a handful of hours since the last time you saw each other.

When Geto tells the two of you to get a room, Satoru only looks at him sourly and sticks his tongue out—blowing raspberries like a child.

And probably the most surprising…

He loves anime and manga.

Which isn’t really too much of a surprise in and of itself, only… you didn’t realize the extent of his love. In fact, it’s better called an obsession.

He isn't a cool guy at all...

He's a total nerd!

The first time you see his dorm room—it’s a total mess!

Manga literally litters the floor and bed, even the tall bookshelf he has is prop full.

What’s even more surprising is that Shonen Jump isn’t in the majority. No, it’s Shōjo.

He tells you his favorite anime is Ouran High School Host Club and insists you watch it with him. 

He sings the entire intro almost every single time—sometimes even the outro.

He says he identifies with the main character—which he obviously feels is Tamaki.

“You’d make a cute Haruhi, though—we should cosplay for Halloween~”

And he’s not even joking. He’s bought the costumes before you even agree.

Of course, no one understands who the two of you are supposed to be—dressed in the same school uniforms like two twins.

You also discover his harbored hatred for horror manga. Junji Ito gives him nightmares.

Though you managed to get him to read Death Note after pushing it on him for months.

He’s so cute—his only takeaway isn’t about the juxtaposing philosophies or any of the moral dilemmas but how “Suguru is so Light, and I’m definitely L.”

You find he’ll always do that—dib characters, almost always the main one.

It's a habit that reminds you of childhood, but it seems more than instinctual for Satoru. You don’t think he’ll ever grow out of it.

When he tells you he wants to be a teacher, you look at him with moon-big eyes.

He’s never seemed any interested in school—his grades are subpar, if not worse.

He never studies. There are no textbooks or the like on his desk, just more figurines and comics, as well as a dusty gaming station.

But when you take a second to think about it, the more it actually makes sense.

He's strangely great with kids. The girls all squeal over his charm, while the boys all cheer over his coolness.

You tell him he’ll be a great teacher, and he proposes to you on the spot.

SOME TIME INTO THE RELATIONSHIP

Obviously, you didn’t marry him back then. But you did finally accept being his girlfriend.

You live together now. Which is nice—not so different from living with your best friend.

Movie nights with candy and drinks—you’ve managed to sway him over to enjoy whine.

Rearranging things at home on a whim—often ending with a stupid layout—couch in the kitchen, where it will stay for a couple of days before you both find the energy to move it back.

You go shopping together and often end up buying things that don’t at all fit with the rest of the stuff at home—artwork, pillows, silly little decorations you just couldn’t leave the store without.

You share a lot of clothes too—hoodies, shirts, sweaters. Which he just loves.

He’s always gushing over you when you wear something he wore the day before.

He’s an ok cook. He can make the basics—wok, curry, ramen. His onigiri is never anything to post about, but hey, at least he actually cooks!

The clean-up is well… never small.

It doesn’t help that he’s always so sleepy after a proper meal, he just tugs you along to bed without putting the washer on.

Sleeping with you in his arms—all limbs tangled around you.

It’s funny, but you’d think with such a clingy lover-boy like Satoru, he’d come with a side of jealousy, but truly, you’ve never ever once seen that shade on him.

He’s excellent with all your friends and colleagues, even old friends and boyfriends you run into.

Instead of jealousy, he has this air of total ease—a certain smugness in a sense—as if there is nothing to worry about.

It's a trust that he puts in you—a quality that makes him seem so mature even when he often acts anything but.

Being with Satoru is strange. You often forget how old the two of you are. Somehow, he still acts the same way he did when he was in high school.

Taking you on amusement park dates, or to the movies to watch a children's film, or for ice cream in the park like you’re still teenagers.

He did end up becoming a teacher, though. Gojo Sensei.

Sometimes, he makes you call him that in the bedroom.

He teaches at the same high school you went to. He even brought home a girl’s uniform for you to wear.

You told him he was crazy if he thought you’d agree to that, but then… it was his only birthday wish. 

“You’re just as cute as you were back then—I can’t believe you’ve stuck with me all this time—I love you so much—”

Ten years older, and he really hasn’t aged much at all... 

Sometimes, he still cums in his pants after dry-humping.

Surprisingly, he really pulled his act together to teach both physics and gymnastics while sometimes subbing for philosophy.

It’s crazy, but he actually manages to make physics fun for the students. Several of them, even after graduation, still keep in touch.

It almost feels like the two of you already have kids.

But, of course, it’s nothing compared to when you actually see those two blue lines signaling your pregnancy.

You’re alone in the bathroom, rereading the instructions over and over. 

You hadn’t wanted to tell Satoru—he’d only insist on watching you pee and being there for the entirety of it. But now that you know for certain it wasn’t just a hunch, you really wished he was in there with you.

“TORU!” you yell.

You hear the struggle of slippery steps as he rushes, coming bursting inside in seconds. “What!?! What is it?! Are you okay?!?”

You only hold up the pregnancy test you’d kept secret you’d bought.

His eyes are as wide as they’d been when you’d agreed to move in with him.

“We’re pregnant?” he all but cheers.

The smile that erupts on his face is nothing short of ecstatic as he kneels before the toilet you’re sitting on, hands holding your thighs as he buries his face between them, chanting “Oh my god, ohmygod, omigod—” between kisses. “You’re serious? We’re really pregnant?”

When he looks up, he’s crying. “That’s so great—”

You have to cup his face in your hands for him not to fall apart.

And the sight is all so reassuring, you have to laugh through the tears on your own face.

You spent the entire day in bed. Satoru with his cheek against your belly and arms wrapped around you, and you with your hands running through his hair as you both discuss baby names.

Surprisingly, it had come as a complete surprise. Not just being pregnant, but the entire gist of it—having kids. 

Both of you have been so wrapped up in each other for the longest time—the thought of any other party had been completely lost.

On the other hand, you haven’t even gotten married yet.

Satoru doesn’t even have a ring, but he proposes to you then anyway.

And even though it’s so impromptu you have to laugh, you still say yes.

After all, you haven’t been able to imagine your life without Satoru for a long time.

Actually, you can’t even remember ever living a life without him.

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[starkeyisthelastname]

hear me out, I’ve been thinking about this idea for a while.. let me know what you guys could think of this as my first series. 🙈❤️

Ward and your father were college best friends turned owners of their own different successful companies. You and Rafe were born a week apart, as if the universe wanted you to be soulmates. The two of you grew up together, best friends since birth practically. As the two of you grew older though, feelings started to become deeper than just a friendship. The problem is the two of you won’t admit them, now in your early twenties trying to pretend that you aren’t both madly in love with each other.

The two of you are like Kook King and Queen of Kildare, both insanely rich, popular and hot. Rafe had always had girls fawning after him left and right, but had started falling for you when you were both were 15. It was only a year after that when he got hooked on cocaine, struggling with an addiction that led him to doing very violent and reckless things. His drug habit only worsened as he tried to deal with the issues with his father, his mental health issues and the fact he was too pussy to make a move on you. His feelings only grew more for you when you stood by his side in helping him get clean. Yet, even now as he worked through his behavior, trying his best to stay away the candy he use to blow up his nose, and was now working at Cameron Development, he still was afraid of you rejecting him.

So he distracted himself by being a player, and fucking around on girls he didn’t give a damn about. He was a dick, he’s cocky, and no other female would ever compare to you. That’s why girls hated you from the moment they started crushing on Rafe. They couldn’t stand that you took all of his attention, you were everything they couldn’t be and most of them knew that when it came to a serious relationship, they would never get that from him as he only had eyes for you. They would only ever be a quick fuck for him to get a nut in.

You though were having a hard time controlling your jealousy even though it was your own fault on not wanting to tell your best friend how you really felt. You weren’t sure though how much more you could take of holding in your feelings. But something just may change on a family vacation…

[thegnomelord]

Demon simon who gets so damn angry when he finds out hunter had lover/crush

Why he so damn mad??? He can't stand him! And it bothers him so much

Then you have hunter who connect dots later and is howling from how funny situation is his *husband* is lil jelouse from his ex / celebrity crush that he kept clinging into him in almost painful grip for weeks

Oooh I love this idea! Lol jealous Simon is such a fun concept but I changed it a bit lol

CW NSFW: jealous demon ghost, groping at the end.

Imagine you, good hunter, in the search of a solution for your. . . problem. . . end up having to meet your Ex. Darek isn't a bad man, he's merely a merchant for all things dark and demented, or so he likes to say whenever the inquisitors come knocking on his door for devil worship. And Darek isn't a bad looking man either, he's got pretty light brown eyes and blonde hair down to his shoulders. He's a charmer who's fooled many a fey into giving their hearts with just his looks and honeyed words.

How you got together is a story echoed by many hunters; He needed some monster parts. You needed some weapons. The sex was just a nice way to soothe over any hiccups in your business relationship and give you both a way to release stress. There was never any feelings, no strings tying you together, just mindless bliss and mind-blowing sex.

Ghost hates him.

If you didn't need Darek, Ghost would already be using his skull as a cup. It wouldn't even take much to take him to the depths bellow, the man reeks of so much sin that the only question on the event of his death would be: which circle would want him the least?

Even when he's invisible, you can still feel Ghost glare at you with the intensity of the nine hells from the moment Darek leans in to brush his lips against yours. It doesn't lessen even a degree when you push Darek away, your mind too wrapped up with thoughts and the possibility of being killed like a common cultist to even think about dealing with Darek's fuck boy behavior.

"Since when did you become such a bore like the other hunters?" Darek huffs, but he's not too hung up about your rejection. The man has a revolving door of lovers, most of them definitely prettier and softer than you.

"Got a slight problem." You say as you take off your glove. An inch of space around your ring finger is burned, the flesh scarred over and blackened so it looks like a wedding ring.

You have to admit, as far as devil worshippers go, Ghost's particular cult was dumb as shit. Why they thought that burning a ring on your finger would somehow make this 'marriage' more satanic is beyond you.

Darek takes your hand, thumb brushing against the scarred flesh. Ghost has never wanted to murder some human more. "Ah, the joys of matrimony." Darek grins, "Don't tell me you already want to leave the poor bride?"

"Groom." You say quickly, tone flat, and you're unsure why you feel the need to correct him when you're talking about a demon. "And yes. I need a way to dissolve this union before some other hunter takes my head."

"Tisk tish, and here I thought you would be more considerate for others." Darek chuckles, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand and nibbling on your knuckle, a lustful look in his eyes. He does that on purpose, both of you are able to smell the sharp scent of brimstone as Ghost looms behind you, invisible but not unnoticed.

Darek lets go of your hand, starting to go over some old books that he has. They're little help in the grand scheme of things, but you're not in a position to be a chooser, so you agree to buy them.

"Now then, how will you pay?" Darek asks, resting his head in his hand. "You know, it's been so long since we both saw each other. I would be willing to give you a discount if you gave me an hour of your time." He purrs.

You consider it for a moment. It would be nice to let off some steam, especially as you haven't exactly had time to relieve yourself with Ghost always by your side.

And all Ghost can think is: the fucking audacity. He doesn't care if you and Darek have history you are his human, his 'bride', his to touch.

You feel Ghost growl. The 'ring' on your finger vibrates, heat flaring up your entire arm and it feels like a lightning jin is stuck inside your chest. It feels nice- no, it must just be the binding making you think that you're wanted just because a demon is throwing a hissy fit.

"Maybe next time." You still say despite yourself, paying in cash and leaving with Darek telling you to call him if you get bored of the married life.

No sooner are you on the street does an unseen force pull you into a dark alley. Claws, good for rending flesh from bone and not much else, gently scrape down your front before they curl around your belt and pull you close against a body bigger and hotter than yours. Ghost's tail curls around your thigh and on instinct you clench your thighs to trap it, but the crushing force behind it is lessened by the damned curse around your finger (The fact you don't try to punch him is one you will worry about later).

You look up, expecting to snarl at the same skull faced demon you've unfortunately been married to. Only for your mouth to fall to the floor when you look at. . . a man. A handsome man, in the rugged way other hunters are handsome; Blond cropped hair, short like a soldier's and your fingers twitch to scratch his scalp. Firm and strong muscles, hard won just like yours. Five o'clock shadow that many hunters sport when you forget to shave. Dark brown eyes that look very nice when mixed with Darek's hardened feature — wait a moment. . .

He looks like Darek! More precisely a hunter version of him, the version you aways thought about whenever you two would fuck. The only way you can tell it's Ghost is by the Hell reflected in the blacks of his eyes.

"Ghost what the fuck?" Is the only thing you can come up with, your eyes the size of dinner plates.

Ghost just grunts, pushing his weight until you're stuck against the wall. "What do you see in it?" He demands.

"What?" You ask, pressing your hands to his chest and trying to push him away, but your strength evaporates and all your wayward hands do is slide along his muscular abdomen.

His tail moves despite the tensing of your thighs, pressing against your groin. Mild panic builds in your brain as the spines along his tail are sharp enough to tear flesh, but all that violent potential is dampened by the marriage. Instead of tearing your balls off, those spines flatten down, creating a strange sensation against your groin that, unfortunately, has your cock chubbing up.

"What. Do. You. See. In. It?" Ghost repeats himself, each word hissed through semi-human teeth, fangs bared at you.

"Fuck Ghost!" You growl, and the best you can do is grope him in retaliation. Some part of you wants to blame the binding for your passiveness, another knows that the binding would not stop you if you didn't want this.

"Why debase yourself with that mortal?" He asks, his tone changing. He may be a demon of wrath, but he's no stranger to lust. His clawed fingers slide down, not even needing the binding to curb his strength as he cups your groin gently but firmly. "What do you get from it that you can't get from m- from someone else?"

Neither of you mention his slip up, you especially as the firm sensation against your clothed cock has you panting like a dog.

"Wh- what? Je-jealous ar-hm! you?" You manage to say, biting your lip to keep yourself from making a sound a hunter should Not make. (A hunter also shouldn't be groped by a demon but here you are.)

Ghost laughs, sharp and dark. "Absolutely not." His tail curls more around your leg, the size of it making you unconsciously spread them so you're not crushing it. "I am Not jealous of a meager mortal." He growls, his hand continuing to gently grope you, the other hand fiddling with your belt. . .

[ashwhowrites]

i love love love your writing and i have been waiting for your requests to be open!! can you please write a billy hargrove x reader story where he rejects her and then he regrets it and has to grovel?

Like she is super nice and friendly with everybody, and she can even get Billy to soften up to her. She's had a crush on Billy for the longest time like since he's arrives in Hawkins but he always is hooking up with somebody or flirting with somebody else. Then she notices that he's been alone for a couple of weeks and thinks this is her chance so she confesses to him and he lets her down gently because he doesn't feel the same (he so does but in his experience romance never lasts and he could never ever bear to lose her) and so she decides that having him as a friend is better than nothing.

But obviously she can't act the way she acted before and she starts distancing herself from him. No more grabbing his arm for security when the hallways are crowded. No more asking him for rides to and from school. No more chattering in his ear during lunch. Instead, she's doing those things with her best friend Steve or Eddie because they knew about her heartbreak and they're trying their best to be supportive.

And obviously he can tell right away that things are different and he's fighting the urge to shove Steve/Eddie away and take back his place next to you. He's trying to reach out and spend time with you and he doesn't care if he sounds desperate when he's doing so but she keeps blowing him off because she wants to get over him and she thinks he's just pitying her.

He finally snaps one night and sneaks into her room and tells her how he's been going crazy. She apologizes for being distant and says that she's moving on so that they can be friends. And Billy just says screw that and he doesn't care what he said before he just wants HER.

Sorry if this is a lot but I can't wait to read what you do with this!!!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Relationship guy

Y/N and Billy had a touchy friendship. From afar they looked to be a couple, with the way they held hands, hugged, kissed each other's cheeks, and the way Billy would do anything for her. She was the only person in the world Billy had a soft spot for, that had to mean something.

There wasn't much time when they were apart. Billy was at her house first thing in the morning, the door open as he waited. The way he leaned against his car made her heart race every time. Then they arrive at school, and as usual, everyone is watching. They moved around the school and when people got too rowdy, Y/N would latch herself to Billy's arm.

"I got you," he smiled as he threw his arm over her shoulder. It wasn't the first time and probably wouldn't be the last.

Lunch was Y/N's favorite part of the school day. Not only because of no class but because she got to talk to Billy non-stop for those few moments.

"Do you think you'll win today's game?" Y/N asked, crunching down on Billy's ignored apple.

Billy scoffed, stuffing his face. "Duh, I'm on the team."

Y/N laughed and nodded, "Fair point, and Steve too!"

"Oh yeah because he does a lot," Billy rolled his eyes.

"Be nice, he is my other best friend," Y/N playfully lectured.

"Yeah, but we know I'm better,"

"In basketball or being a friend?" Y/N asked to clarify

"Both, babygirl," he winked.

The bell rang and they packed up their trash. Before they went separate ways for class, Y/N kissed Billy's cheek goodbye.

~~~

Y/N fell for him, of course. She had eyes for Billy ever since he moved to Hawkins, but he didn't have the eyes for her. His eyes looked at every girl that passed by him. Y/N never made a move because he was always sleeping around with a new girl, but lately, he seemed to be alone more than usual.

With his eyes not looking elsewhere, Y/N found a boost of confidence to ask Billy out.

They were lying in his bed listening to music when she turned to look at him. She took in his handsome features, studying how gorgeous he was up close. She watched as his lips formed a smile and he turned to look at her.

"Why are you staring at me?" he laughed, placing an arm under his head and propping himself up. He reached out and placed his arm over her waist. She smiled at the feeling, her heart racing.

"Have you ever seen me more than just a friend?" she asked, her stomach twisted as his smile slowly disappeared from his face.

"What do you mean?" he asked, licking his lips nervously.

She took a deep breath, cuddling closer into his warm body. He hoped she couldn't hear how fast his heart was pounding.

"I like you, Billy. I have for a long time but never said anything. Lately, you've been alone and it got me thinking maybe this is my chance to tell you."

Billy was in awe of her soft voice and the beauty of her heart. The truth was, he did like her. He was alone because no girl could get his mind off of her. She was the only person in his life that made him happy and he wasn't sure if he'd live if he lost her. He never tried to have a relationship so he had zero hope he would treat her the way she deserved.

"I think you are incredibly beautiful, inside and out. You've given my life a whole new purpose and I'm grateful to have you. I'm not a relationship guy and that won't change. I love you and hold a place for you in my heart, but in a friendly way." Billy said gently. He softly rubbed her hip as she sighed.

"If you were a relationship guy, would you go for me?" she asked, moving to look up at him. There was so much emotion in his blue eyes and she wished she could detect it.

"My first and only choice, baby," he said softly, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "Are you going to be okay? I really don't want to lose you as my friend," Billy admitted. He feared she'd pull away and he wouldn't blame her.

"Yeah, I'll be okay," she smiled. The rejection slightly hurt but she had a gut feeling Billy wasn't the boyfriend type anyway.

Billy hummed as a response. He moved to wrap both his arms around her, setting his head on hers as she cuddled into his chest.

~~~

Turns out she wasn't as okay as she thought she'd be. Spending all her time with Billy was fun and exciting. But now all she could think about was how badly she wanted more and how it would never happen. The kisses to her cheek that made her heart race were starting to make her stomach sour. And riding with him to and from school felt suffocating as his cologne filled the space.

She realized she would never be able to move on from him if she didn't change things. So, she figured creating a little distance would help her clear her head and heal her heart. Once she felt over him, they could resume their friendship and it wouldn't hurt her anymore.

Y/N got in Billy's car, her mind reeling. She was in deep thought and had been struggling with what to do.

"Steve is going to bring me home today," she said quietly. Billy turned down the music and turned to look at her. But she kept her eyes on the road as he drove.

"Oh, why?" He asked, moving his eyes back to the road. He ignored the ping of jealousy that ran through him.

"I think I need some space from you. Not in a bad way, it's just to help me. We'll still hang out and be best friends. I promise," she smiled. She reached over to place a comforting hand on his thigh.

Billy wanted to do what was best for her, but selfishly he didn't want space. He nodded and focused on the road, he hoped she couldn't see the water filling his eyes as he pulled into the parking lot.

~

The end of the day arrived and Billy could feel her lack of presence. He walked in the hallways alone, watching as she clung to Steve instead. She didn't sit with him at lunch, but that didn't stop him from staring at her the whole time. He dreaded driving home alone all day and he hated that it arrived. He also hated that her needing space meant everything changed.

He gave her a small wave as she drove by in Steve's car. His heart sped up as she excitedly waved back with a big smile. At least she still cared about him.

~~~

Billy tried to be patient with giving her space but after a week, he was ready to throw in the towel. He had to physically hold himself back from slamming Steve against the lockers whenever Y/N touched him. That was Billy's place. He fought the urge to sit at her new table, and beg her to gossip about her friends, anything to listen to her talk.

He missed driving with her, her smell in his passenger seat was slowly fading.

He sat on his bed as he held the phone to his ear, he hoped with everything in him that she would pick up.

"Hello?"

Billy smiled at the sound of her voice, "There she is, I've missed you," he admitted.

"I've missed you too, Billy," she said, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Want to come over? We can order your favorite and watch those horrible movies you like," Billy offered.

"That sounds amazing, but I can't tonight. I'm sorry."

"That's alright, maybe next time," Billy said disappointed. The call ended shortly after and Billy slammed the phone down. He pulled at his hair as he took deep breaths to calm himself down. He was mad, frustrated, and hurt.

"You okay?"

Billy looked up as hot tears streamed down his face. Max stood at his door with a worried expression, a look he'd never seen her have before.

"I'm fine," he snapped. He walked up and slammed his door. Max didn't take it personally, it was the first time she ever saw Billy cry.

"I know we aren't friends, but it's okay to be upset. It's okay to feel things other than anger." Max said before she walked away.

~

The more time they spent apart, the more desperate Billy got. The more he called, the more he begged. He didn't care if he sounded crazy or pathetic, all he wanted to do was see her.

She noticed all the attention, and it was hard to look the other way. But she knew she'd never get over the love she had for him if she went back. She couldn't talk to him without getting lost in his eyes, or be in the same car inhaling his cologne. She couldn't touch his skin and not think about how much she wanted to taste it.

She figured he was pitying her, trying to lessen the blow of rejection. She knew Billy cared about her and it was something he'd do, but it didn't help her. It only made it harder.

She went to turn off her lamp when she heard knocking on her window. Only one person went through her window so she prepared herself to see him again.

She quickly fluffed her hair and smoothed out her sleep clothes. She walked over and opened the curtain. She didn't say anything as she unlocked the window and let him through.

"I can't do it anymore. I tried and I want to do what is best for you but I can't do it anymore!" Billy ranted as he paced around her room. "I can't take the distance. It's selfish, I know but I am falling apart here."

"Billy," she sighed, "It's hard now but trust me, it'll help us in the end."

"No, it won't!"

"If we don't do this now, I will never get over you. It'll damage our friendship in the long run. I'll never be able to accept when you get a girlfriend or decide one day to get married. I'll be tortured and unhappy. I'm doing this for the future us," she explained. "This is the only way I'll be happy for you."

"I don't care about future us. I care about us right now. I care about you being in my life right now." Billy begged. She watched Billy walk around the room, tears building in his eyes.

"I can't have you in my life right now!" Y/N argued, "You don't understand how painful it is to be in love with someone who can't love you back."

"What if I can?" he whispered, she felt her anger come to a halt.

Y/N scoffed, "You said it yourself, you're not a relationship guy."

"I don't give a fuck what I said. It was all bullshit, okay? I'm scared and have no idea what I'm doing and I don't know if I'll be who you want me to be, but I don't care. I want you," he confessed. He walked over and placed his hand on her cheek. She felt her breathing pick up as he looked down at her, so much emotion in his eyes.

He leaned in and she followed, turning her chin up as she closed the gap between them. She sighed in bliss as his warm lips worked against hers. He wrapped his arms around her, desperately pushing her body against his. Kissing her was better than Billy imagined, she was sweet and soft. He wanted to beat himself up for waiting so long.

Needing air, he pulled away. He placed his forehead on hers, opening his eyes as he panted against her mouth. "I'm ready to be a relationship guy. I love you."

"I love you too, Billy," she smiled, placing her lips on his.

~

Billy couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he pulled up to her house. He got out of the car and opened her door. He crossed his arms as he waited for her to walk out.

"There's my girl," he whistled as she walked down the driveway. She rolled her eyes but blushed at the nickname. She greeted him with a kiss, loving the way he wrapped his arms around her to deepen it.

"Good morning to me," Billy said against her lips. She pulled away to smile. She got in the car and Billy followed.

His hand was on her knee the whole drive. Y/N felt butterflies in her stomach ever since they kissed. She couldn't believe she and Billy were in a relationship.

They held hands as they walked into the school. He was happier than ever to have her by his side again, and this time as his girlfriend.

[avocado-writing]

Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to his gn crush confessing to him while obviously waiting for rejection?

absolutely my love, here you go!

Astarion

Is not surprised you’re confessing (he knew how you felt it wasnt subtle lol), but is surprised that you seem so defeated about it

sort of annoys him? Upsets him? Of course he’s going to feel the same way, how can you think so little of yourself? He’s of the opinion that you’re wonderful. it’s so easy to fall for you.

but then he hesitates: he knows how easy it is to think poorly of oneself. He can’t judge you too harshly.

takes your hand, tells you that you’re lovely, and invites you out for coffee the next day. just the two of you. his heart skips a beat when you light up.

Gale

admires how courageous you are. can see you’re shaking as you admit your feelings.

”why do you think I wouldn’t feel the same way? you are one of the most spectacular people I’ve ever met. Anyone would be lucky to have you. I’d be lucky to have you.”

smiles when he sees how you start to grin, puts his hands on your waist and brings you in for a kiss.

if you’re a magic user dancing lights erupt from you because you’re so overwhelmed ✨

Wyll

Oh, sweet Wyll. Gobsmacked that you think he’d turn you down.

takes your hand and guides you somewhere where the two of you can be alone.

when you have your privacy he asks if he can kiss you.

you feel heat rise in your cheeks but nod, and he gives you the most astounding first kiss you’ve ever had lol

then he takes you out for dinner and holds your hand across the table the whole meal

(when you’re together properly he makes jokes the whole camp was asking “wyll they won’t they” about the two of you and you groan lmfao)

Halsin

another one who takes you to a private place to talk.

brushes your hair out of face and then cups your cheek in the same gesture, begins to wax poetic about how perfect the oak father made you and how you are without fault.

has echoed your feelings for a long time now and is glad you made the first move which takes a lot of the weight off your chest

he scoops you up in his big arms and swings you around until all the worry is gone and you’re laughing 💕

Dammon

his heart hammers in his chest when you tell him. he’s only a blacksmith!!!! he doesn’t know how to handle this!!

I imagine you confess to him while he’s working at his forge so that not all of his attention is on you, it’s better to soften the blow when he says he doesn’t feel the same.

puts his tools down, takes off his gloves, and holds your hands. tells you he’s admired you for a long while and is glad you feel the same.

you squeak when he kisses you but his soft touch keeps your grounded ❤️

Rolan

is offended how nervous you are (you don’t find him THAT intimidating do you?! He’s been trying to be nice because he likes you!) - and also a bit annoyed because he’s been working up the courage to confess for ages but you got there first

”Good, I like you too >:(“ “you do?” “Yes >:(“ “then why do you seem so grumpy about it?” “I’m not grumpy! >:( >:( >:(“

you kiss him on the cheek and he’s so flustered he loses control of the spell he was transcribing and magic missiles his office window to pieces lol

Zevlor

this is a battle of the least self-confident lol. you’re like “I don’t think you like me” and he replies “my dear you have so many better options than me”

so it turns 180, with you convincing him that you do like him and listing all his merits!

eventually youre at a stalemate. and then you just kiss each other, trepidatious at first and then getting more passionate as you relax 💕

[gatitties]

Can I get a one punch man saitama genos and garou accidentally saving a female reader from a villains or monster attack and the reader becomes madly in love with them and like stars following them and clingy to their art etc

─Saitama, Genos & Garou x reader

─Summary: You think that the person who saved you needs all the love in the world even if it was an accident.

─Warnings: none

─ In this world of heroes and villains you consider that you have a superpower, the superpower of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

─ Somehow you find yourself involved in battles that do not concern you, being just another civilian who is rescued, it has happened to you several times, but you usually go unnoticed and flee from danger before someone decides to use you as a hostage.

─ It didn't happen like that when Saitama saved you, although he didn't even see you, he destroyed that huge stone that was going to crush you when defeating a villain, your eyes could only look fascinated at the shine of his bald head and his bored expression.

─ You thanked him in different languages and he just gave you a thumbs up without knowing how to respond when he didn't even notice you in the first place.

─ He was certainly happy thinking that he had gotten a fan, but you went a little too far.

─ You went crazy looking for information about your now favorite hero and love, you sighed every time you saw him knock down enemies with a single blow.

─ Saitama met you more times a day than he did with Genos, and he lived with the cyborg.

─ You always tried to start a conversation with him, no matter how brief, you love the simple interaction.

─ Saitama will run away from you, seriously, he appreciates your letters and gifts but you are reaching an extreme, the man wants to lead a fairly peaceful life and you are a whirlwind of emotions.

─ Genos got a taste of his own medicine when he prevented a pile of rubble from falling on you, he hadn't noticed that you were the only person there, he just diverted the pieces of building for a battle strategy.

─ You didn't need anything else, once he realized that there were civilians, he apologized and helped you get to the nearest hospital to check if you had any injuries.

─ You were creating imaginary scenarios with the cyborg throughout the medical checkup and immediately sought to have more interactions with him.

─ It's difficult for Genos to reject some of your offers once you manage to establish some kind of friendly relationship, although he feels that you are being a little suffocating with your affection.

─ Appreciate your enthusiasm and affection, but seriously, relax a little, his brain will short-circuit from the amount of love you show him.

─ This boy has zero experience in romantic relationships so he is a little lost when it comes to reciprocating at first.

─ You will take care of that as long as he ends up accepting you as a partner, since he is still confused by your sudden appearance in his life, especially when he has such clear life goals, he doesn't know if you could distract him from his occupations.

─ He doesn't want to make you feel bad so he won't ignore your signs of affection like Saitama, ironically he has more heart than his bald friend.

─ In general he is a good boy and he will accept your love bombing, but he also has clear goals for himself, and he lets you know if you really want to be part of his life.

─ This idiot surely saw you and he was even the one who planned to use you as a hostage, but someone beat him to it and put a knife against your throat before he could do anything.

─ Fuck everything, the cheap villain was his priority now and he forgot about you, no one would take away a target even if it was a hostage, speaking of capricious boys…

─ Of course the whim of fighting your captor indirectly saved you, although he didn't look at you when you fell to the ground or help you after he broke the other guy's face, but your heart experienced an instant crush.

─ Garou had the feeling that someone was after him after that day, he thought that some rival was after him only to find... you with a love letter in your hands?

─ You looked at each other in an uncomfortable silence and he decided to leave without saying anything, but your spirits did not falter, you tried by all possible means to spend as much time as possible with him to establish a relationship.

─ The man simply got used to having you by his side, ranting about anything or receiving compliments for any little thing he did.

─ He was so embarrassed, not only because the sight of him as a villain would be destroyed, but because he was not used to receiving so much praise and affection.

─ You may have a rather negative reaction towards your love, he doesn't feel confident enough to start something and you also came out of nowhere, but now that he knows you a little more he won't kick you out of his life either, at least for now…

─ Don't expect any signs of affection from him, he's a tough guy and has to look tough.

─ He constantly reminds you that he's not a good person and what his goals are right now, but he gives up when he sees that the look in your eyes clouded by love, won't scare you away so easily, although he might like that.

[autistichalsin]

Halsin's autism coding really jumps out in his camp confession scene

Both the romantic and platonic one. Starting with the romantic one:

He thinks asking about his past lovers is a sign of interest (I notice a lot of autistic folks like us tend to never get it "right"- when we guess that someone might be interested because of cues we were told were romantic, we get it wrong, whereas when someone is showing certain cues, we think it's just friendly!)

The way he feels the need to explain why he thinks you're interested in him before you accept or reject. This one isn't explicitly explained, of course, but it is very easy to read it as an autistic person afraid of being harshly rejected/told they're insane to think there was a connection, so he puts out an explanation first in the hopes of softening the blow if he turned out to be wrong.

Halsin completely, and adorably, misinterprets the player if they tell him "maybe your heart stirs easier than you think"; he doesn't understand that the player is partially slut-shaming him (which is rude af on the player's end, but he misses this because he's honestly un-slutshamable, so he would never be offended here) and partially asking for clarification- how can you have had many lovers yet your heart doesn't stir easily? Not understanding this, Halsin goes on to tell stories of his past exploits, which are hot and very welcome, but also very much not what the player as getting at.

If the player is an absolute asshole and mocks him by comparing him to a deep rothe, he is crushed, but stays calm, simply telling them that they could have just said no- he doesn't call the player a jerk like they deserved. Just feels very true to the 'tism experience.

This line alone could stand as proof, I think: "Nature gifted us our desires, and the means to act on them. But we muddied its beautiful simplicity with rules, social strictures... clothes." He hates social structures for their complexity, and prefers something simpler. The dislike of social structures, of their nebulous nature, is a core autistic experience.

If the player says they only helped because he's a useful ally, he once again misreads; he misses that the statement was a rejection, and responds earnestly that he sees them as much more than an ally.

For the new platonic path:

If the player tells him they just want him to carry heavy things for them, he responds differently based on his approval levels to them (I.E. based on how close they are and how kind he feels the player is); at low approval, he is deeply hurt by this, and sadly muses that "perhaps not all friendships are destined to be balanced and reciprocal." Yet... he still considers it a friendship, even though that is in practice no friendship at all. A lot of autistic folks have this experience of being friends with people who don't share the same level of affection, or even outright mistreat, us.

In fact, the same thing happens in another variation: if the player snarks about Halsin inviting himself along (a way of saying "get lost"), he laughs and warmly says that he guesses he did invite himself along, and that he will be "more tactful when trying to make friends in future." Declaring oneself friends with others is such a classic autistic experience, but even MORE so is declaring yourself friends with someone who only tolerates, or even actively dislikes, you. It's quite sad- but also very endearing, because I feel so SEEN in that moment.

[minus-plus-zer0]

Vigilante Bakugou Headcanons - Part 1

| Part 2 | ♡ Genre: Angst ♡ Pairing: Vigilante!Bakugou x Normal!Reader

You met him when he saved you from a dark alleyway robbery.

He was one of the few superheroes around and was much scarier in-person. But despite this, he makes sure you're okay before telling you to run while he deals with the rest.

Your university classmates gossip about your city's superheroes, but they're not keen on Dynamight. His explosions are destructive and his personality doesn't help.

You totally disagree. In fact, you tell your classmate Bakugou Katsuki that you like this superhero quite a bit after he saved you! But you ask Bakugou not to tell a soul, you're confiding to him alone because you don't wanna get Dynamight into trouble.

Bakugou looks at you with an indescribable expression, but agrees.

You'd think Bakugou hates the guy by how he reacts, but that'd be so, so strange! Dynamight saved your life!

Bakugou was so relieved to see you back in one piece, so you'd think he'd respect Dynamight a little more.

But Bakugou has the darkest look on his face when Dynamight comes up. You comfort him, thinking that he's still just shaken up after you almost got hurt.

You're not entirely wrong…

Soon after, you see Dynamight again. When he's not doing hero work, he's meeting you in private places. You bump into him on your dorm rooftop one day (even though it's off-limits) and things kept rolling from there. He's got a voice modulator obscuring his true voice, but he doesn't sound too robotic.

At first you try to comfort him and tend to his injuries, which he rejected not because he didn't appreciate you but because he didn't want you seeing what's under his costume.

However, one day his injuries are a little too severe and he lets you tend to his wounds with medical supplies. You see the muscles he's worked real hard for, but you don't get too distracted.

From then on, he lets you in even closer. He likes hearing about your day, and he's really interested in what you think about your classmates. Especially Bakugou.

He starts telling you about his superhero life, as if he's been dying to tell someone (or at least you) about it all. Initially he feared sharing this would risk your safety, but he realized it's safer to keep you close than to keep you away. He's been thinking that since the day he rescued you, he tells you. Your heart skips a beat!

You know this lifestyle makes him lonely. It's awful holding onto that many secrets. You rest your head on his shoulder, showing him you care, that you're here for him.

He's hesitant, but he holds you close. He looks torn as to what to do.

You start developing a little crush on Dynamight. Eventually, when it grows big enough, you tell Bakugou about it!

You're busy gushing about the superhero until you notice that Bakugou isn't really amused.

(He's never amused when you talk about other guys but this time it's worse)

So you stop the gushing but still discuss Dynamight like any of your classmates would. It's a natural part of the news cycle by now and it's hard to escape when superhero incidents happen.

And after meeting Dynamight again and again you can't help but fall for him even more.

One week you spent more time with Dynamight than with Bakugou (not counting shared class time).

You admit to Dynamight that you only see Bakugou as a friend, hoping that Dynamight will know that Bakugou is not competition in your budding relationship with the superhero. You haven't confessed any feelings to Dynamight, but you're just preparing for the day you do.

But Dynamight doesn't seem happy to hear that. It's hard to say what's going on underneath his mask, but he's clearly not responding immediately. He's very still. He's not looking at you.

You're afraid of being rejected by Dynamight, so you put your feelings on hold. Maybe you were coming on too strong. Maybe he doesn't like you. That's a blow to your heart, but you'll still support him and stay friends, if what you think is true.

So next time, when you finally hang out with Bakugou again (who was mysteriously absent last week doing something), you hope it'll take your mind off of Dynamight.

But Bakugou seems more out of it than usual. He looks sad when you call upon him. You catch him staring at you more than he usually does. He doesn't speak as much.

You wonder if there was some sort of accident in the city that made everyone get all sad. You feel bad for Bakugou and want to comfort him, but for once you don't know what's bothering him.

As time goes on, Bakugou gets better. He's still always close to you, always your best friend, and only occasionally giving sad stares. Whatever problem he has isn't gone, not by a long shot, but he's hiding it better and maybe that's worse.

Eventually, you see Dynamight on the rooftop again. He's seems normal, but his mask hides his expressions so it's not clear.

You baked him some cookies, which he loves. He pulls his mask up to eat it like always. Once you're finished chatting about his superhero work and your university life, you broach your issues with Bakugou.

Dynamight listens without saying anything until you finish. He doesn't give any perspective on what Bakugou thinks or feels, probably 'cause he doesn't know the guy. Instead he just comforts you, sees how much this is hurting you, and wishes that you would stop worrying about him. He assures you it is not a big deal.

It is.

But you don't know that, so you agree, taking comfort believing that you're worrying for nothing.

You thank Dynamight for always being there for you. You cuddle up to him. He could never push you away.

Reluctantly, he pulls you further in.

Eventually, your heart can't really take it. You're face is flushed as you confess your feelings to him.

All his attention is on you as you confess, and by the way his chest feels, his heart is beating faster than ever before.

Somehow, he manages to speak.

"…Are you sure? You don't know who's under the mask."

"I know you saved my life, and many others! I know you from your heroics, from everything you've shared over the past months. Dynamight, I want you."

Suddenly, he can't keep himself from kissing you. He's desperate, like he's wanted this for a while, and you wanted it too. You don't know how long it takes to resurface for air because your lips are lost in him.

Once he's finished, he's pressing his forehead against yours.

"I love you," he says, a little sadly.

"Love you too, Dynamight." You hope your words will heal his sadness.

Afterwards, your heart is full and happy after your loving moment with Dynamight. You're eager to return to university.

But at school, you notice something different.

Bakugou isn't really talking to you anymore.

[therabbitthatpostthings]

White Day

Teen!NanamixTeen!Reader -Part 1-

He didn’t have a crush on you.

Okay, he did but, Kento would never tell anyone he had a crush on you. His feelings were very important and not something he would go around telling people. You’d probably agree. You weren’t the type to make a big show of things and he liked that. If he could avoid telling people you were dating and just enjoy you alone, he would. Well. He would, if you were dating but you're not dating. Still, Kento couldn’t help but hold onto the hope that you might one day look his way. You were always so nice to him, nicer than the other upperclassmen. You took interest in the things he was embarrassed of, you liked the dramatic movies he did, you traded CD’s with him. You were like a dream come true in this cruel world.

He couldn’t help but wonder why you avoided him now.

You didn’t walk over to him and Haibara to trade snacks. You didn’t ask him to hold your books and started using your bag again. You didn’t offer to trade CD’s or share headphones. You didn’t even spar with him on the weekends. It was kinda embarrassing to admit but, he didn’t realize how much of his time was spent with you. How much space in his life you took up. This sudden feeling of hollowness surrounded him and it felt like everyone could see it. Everyone could feel it. Kento never noticed just how quiet his life was before you.

Kento walked through the halls, annoyed as usual. No particular reason but, it has conveniently been over two weeks since you two stopped talking. He didn’t realize you were ignoring him until you stopped having lunch together. He knew you were quiet that day but you were as loud as the other second years. He thought it was normal for you. And then you vanished from his life. The days since then blurred together. Kento stuck to his normal routine like a machine. The world would keep spinning after all. He was certain whatever was troubling you would blow over soon and you would tell him about it. He walked like a dazed zombie down the halls every morning and waiting in the class for Haibara to arrive. Today was different though, today he heard a light sound, a soft giggled coming from ahead of him.

There you were! Laughing aimlessly with Haibara and Shoko. His body froze a few steps away from you. You looked like a dream, like a distant memory that just came back to him. You noticed him standing there and his heart shattered when your face scrunched in anger and annoyance.

“I’ll talk to you later Yuu-Chan.” You smiled, gesturing towards Shoko to follow you down the hallway. You disappeared amongst the students as Kento approached Haibara.

Haibara looking between your fading figure and Kento, “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t know (Y/N) and you still talked,” Kento answered, still staring down the hall.

“Well yeah, they’re not mad at me.” Haibara stated.

That shocked Kento, “(Y/N) is mad at me?!” He said that a little too loud and Haibara quickly pulled him into the empty classroom.

“Why is (Y/N) mad at me?” Kento asked before the door could even shut.

“You rejected them.”

“When?!”

“On Valentine’s Day? The note?” Haibara gestured towards the desk.

“That was Gojo-senpai’s note!”

“Gojo-senpai wrote you a note?!”

“What are you talking about!?”

“What are you talking about?!”

Kento stepped back to lean against the desk as Haibara rattled on. “I never took Gojo-senpai for your type…”

Could that note have been from (Y/N)?

“I don’t think he likes the brooding type either…” Haibara inquired to himself.

Why would you of all people write him a note? It sounded ridiculous. There was no way you liked him. You couldn’t have, right?

Haibara struck a thinking man pose against the empty desk, “Utahime and Shoko-senpai seem more compatible with each other than either of them with Gojo-senpai.”

That perfume on the note, it was yours. He had been in your room plenty of times to spot it. You knew where he sat. You knew when he came into class. It had to be you.

“Definitely. Geto-senpai is his type.” Haibara concluded.

“Haibara?” Kento spoke.

Haibara was still tuned into his own deductions, “You agree, right?”

“Not about that! I need you to help me apologize to (Y/N).” Kento rested back against the desk. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He knew he had to make it up to you. He had to do it before you never talked to him again.

The rest of the day was filled with dread. You, of course, ignored and avoided Kento. It didn’t help calm Kento’s mind that that he embarrassed you in front of Gojo and Geto. Both of them just LOVED bringing up any embarrassing moment they witnessed. A chill ran down his spine at the thought that he is cause of your torment right now (even though they both knew better to not rub a heartbreak like that in your face). There was truly no escape from his mistakes. The worst part of it all is that he didn’t even bother to read the note. He crumpled your feelings up like trash and threw them back at you. Like it was below him. How could he do that to you?

 You seemed to be fine without him which hurt a hell of a lot more. You smiled just as easily with Gojo and everyone else. It’s like you didn’t notice the space he left, if he took up any at all. Did he really mean so little to you that you could just erase him from your life? Would an apology even do anything? What if you already fell out of love with him?

____

“What is it? I'm busy.” Your words felt like daggers piercing through him.

“Just checking on you.” Kento replied, holding a bandage out for you to take. After a tough mission, in which you two still barely spoke, Kento was trying his hardest to make some kind of amends. Two weeks turned into three and a month later. Today is the first day you two were in the same vicinity. And truthfully you had nowhere else to be but it was better than being here, beaten and bruised by a dumb curse. It was located in the pool of a middle school on the other side of town. The curse wasn’t too hard or powerful, its only saving grace was its speed. It gave you both the run around from late morning to early evening while Gojo and Geto dealt with the much tougher foes on the outside. And Gojo being the saint he is made sure that You and Kento were stuck together the whole mission. I mean it only made sense to him, right? He and Geto are better suited for the bigger curses. He’s just being a responsible senpai! That’s also why he lovingly made sure to excuse himself and Geto from the car ride back so it was just you two alone in the infirmary.

The thought of that smug bastard dining on snacks from the convenience store while you had to suffer made your blood boil. You were grateful those two showed restraint until now but this was the worst time to confront your feelings. Aching and tired from an embarrassingly long mission.

“I’m fine, thanks.” You replied coldly. You ignored his gesture and reached for your jacket on the bench. You tugged it on and felt a sharp pain shoot up through your shoulder. It wasn’t that painful but you were in a hurry and the shock got to you. Kento quickly shifted to your aid but you took a step away from him.

“You’re hurt (Y/N),” He pleaded. He pulled the jacket out of your arms and you put up no fight against him. At this point you were willing to run without it. Who does he think he is to act so kindly now?!

You yelled, “Why do you care?!

How could he have any sympathy for you now? If he really didn’t like you he could have done it privately! Why embarrass you in front of your friends like that! On Valentine’s Day of all days!

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“Leave me alone. You can’t just keep being friends with me after hurting me like that!”

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t know you wrote the note!”

“How could you not know?!”

“I-I didn’t open the note-”

“You didn’t read it!” Your voice cracked in anger and sadness. The pain in your shoulder was distant compared to the lump in your throat and the pit in your chest. Forget throwing the note away, he didn’t even read it! He didn’t even care what you had to say! How could Kento be so cruel! “I wish you would just leave me alone!”

You turned to leave but Kento pulled you back by your wrist, mindful of your injury. You didn’t feel like trying to break free, it was only to aggravate your shoulder into an actual cause of concern.

He spoke softly, “I thought it was a prank from Gojo. It just didn’t make sense any other way. I’m sorry.”

You still faced away from him, “Did you not consider my feelings at all?”

“I couldn’t have imagined someone like you would ever like someone like me.”

You scoffed, “And what am I like?”

“Perfect. Gorgeous. Generous. Brave.” Kento listed off as you finally relaxed into his touch. You still didn’t turn around, afraid this was still some kind of joke. If it was, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

Kento sighed, “I never thought you would like me. Like I didn’t deserve you. So when I saw that letter I thought it could only be a joke. I thought I could live with you hating me but… I’ve realized how much it hurts not being with you. I didn’t mean to hurt you (Y/N), I’m sorry.”

You were trying your hardest to not let tears fall. Part of you wanted to pull away and run. The other wanted Kento to hug you close. He didn’t mean to hurt you. Kento wouldn’t ever hurt you on purpose, that’s clear now. You always knew he wasn’t that kind of guy. You thought distracting yourself in your friends and missions would ease the pain but it only emphasized just how alone you felt without him at your side.

“(Y/N), I understand if you're still mad at me but please, don’t ignore me anymore.” He pleaded.

You hesitantly turned around, “Do you really like me, the way I like you?”

“I do!” He answered eagerly. His suddenness took you aback. Kento took both of your hands in his but quickly got embarrassed. A choked back laugh left you as he blushed. Though embarrassed, Kento was happy to see you smiling again. Smiling at him.

You pulled him into a hug, holding him like this moment would disappear. You listened to his heartbeat pick up as he wrapped his arms around you and relaxed into his embrace. Kento wasn’t much of a hugger but you loved being in his arms. He felt so safe with you.

You kept your head resting towards his chest. Softly you spoke, “I’m sorry I ignored you.”

“Don’t be, I should have read the note.”

You both stood there in a comfortable silence. Neither wanted to leave but the infirmary was closing for the night. Kento offered to walk back to your dorm room, obviously not ready for the moment to end.

“So,” he spoke carefully, “What did the note say?”

Your cheeks heated up at the memories. You spent four whole days writing a confession and scraped every version beyond the last. Even if that was short and sweet you still racked your brain over it! “D-Don’t worry about that! It’s over now!”

He chuckled, “(Y/N), I’ve never seen you so embarrassed.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” You pouted.

“How about we go on a date tomorrow? It’s White Day so, consider it my response.” Kento smiled. “Would you tell me what you wrote then?”

“Fine,” you huffed as you reached your room door. “Only because you're mending my broken heart.”

Kento smiled. He brought your hands up to his lips and gently kissed the inside of your wrist. “It’s a date. Rest up, okay?”

“R-Right..” You nodded. He gave you a small wave and he disappeared down the hall. You quickly shut the door behind you and slid down to your knees, thoroughly embarrassed. Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest. You looked over to your desk where the infamous letter sat and the realization set in.

Ah… Kento… likes me…

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

The Note Kento got vs the process Y/N went through:

Tag List:

@harlekin6 @scarasluvvr @patpatspatz @blendingmixer @cosmiicpiink @justakidnamedplant @polarbvnny @moka44 @desiderium-dreams @idioticstar @apchmon @niiconoriez @ilovemensomuch1234 @obsessive-clown @tyunswifey @lunasolac @spam-love @byul9158 @verynormalsstuff @abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz @zoom1374 @littlemissvalentina @kinokomoonshine @diannana @darlink-xoxo @g-kleran @luv444lay @preferstyles @braveironrose @melody-death

[dollyhoon]

告白 : 西村力

𝗉𝗋𝖾́𝖼𝗂𝗌 ୨୧ when you confess your love to nishimura riki , 𝑔 : angst , war. Rejection , just some angst really 𝘄𝗰 : 512

💌 • i've been feeding u guys so much lately omg 😋 feedback is appreciated,enjoy reading <3

• You stood in the corner of the hallway,nervously playing with your fingers as you watched riki play with his friends. His smile that was once a source of comfort and solace,now felt like a knife plunging deeper into your chest. You'd replyed this moment in your head to many time to count—what you would day—how he would respond,but standing here now,you wondered if it was a mistake for even considering it. ─── more under the cut !

If you waited any longer,you knew it was gonna be worse,you couldn't wait any longer. “Riki,” you called out,your voice barley above a whisper but just enougj for him to turn to you. His eyes met yours,a lingering smile tugging at his lips. “Hey Y/N,what's up?”

You glanced down to the floor,the courage you had built for this moment slowly crumbling with each passing second. It was worse than you imagined. “Can we talk?...like alone...”. All the noise in the room quited as his friends shot glances between you two,curiosity piqued. Riki nodded,motioning you to follow him to an empty classroom.

The classroom was quieter,the buzz of laughter and students talking was now drowned out by the hammering of your heart,it felt like it was gonna pump out of your chest any second.

“I—” your voice cracked,and you quickly cleared your throat,gripping your sleeves tighter,if that was even possible. “I need to tell you something...”

He stood there paitently,his face unreadable, “Go on,i'm listening,”

“I like you,Riki,” you finally blurted out,the words hanging heavier than you'd ever imagined. “I...i've liked you for a long time.”

You held your breath,waiting for him to say something—anything,but the silence that followed was worse than any rejection. His eyebrows furrowed as he glanced away,avoiding your gaze for a second too long.

“I dont know...” he said quietly,his voice void of any excitment or warmth you were used to, “I'm sorry Y/N....i don't feel the same way.”

There it was—the crushing blow. You felt the ground beneath you give away,and your heart shattered in your chest. If you were being honest,you did expect it,but hearing it out loud was different.

“I get it,” you forced out. You wanted to be strong,to smile,to laugh it off,but your body betrayed you as you felt tears forming in your eyes.

"You’re a great friend, Y/N," he murmured, as if that would soften the blow. "I really care about you… just not like that."

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek to keep the tears from falling. "It’s okay," you whispered. "I… I should’ve known."

Riki stood there, awkwardly shifting his weight, clearly uncomfortable. You hated that you had made him feel like this. You hated that your feelings were now a burden on him, something he had to step around carefully.

"Don’t worry about it," you added, forcing a weak smile. "I’ll be fine."

But as you turned to walk away, the weight of his words pressed harder on your chest. You tried to steady your breathing, but each step away from him felt heavier than the last. Maybe you’d move on eventually, but right now, it felt like you’d be carrying this with you for a long time.

♥︎ - @icyy-hoon @yuvany @cupidriki @jakesangel @zvouyage @enreveriee @pshwrldd @wonwonpuffs

[ghoulsbounty]

From a Previous Life (Pt 4)

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Preg!Reader

Summary: You and the Ghoul quickly learn that your actions—and your words—carry significant consequences.

Warnings: Emotional hurt/comfort, pregnancy, doctor examination, sickness/radiation poisoning, arguing, angst, grief, yearning, rejection, slow burn, stubbornness, canon-typical violence, miscommunication, mention of blood/wound, reader throws things.

Word Count: 7.1K

A/N: It's been a while since I posted for this story, part 4 has been kicking my butt! Lots of angst and drama as usual, but the happy ending is on the horizon! I'd love to know what you think 💌

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

After thoroughly scouring the house and filling his saddlebag with every vial he could find in the basement, the Ghoul was adamant that you both leave immediately and put as much distance as possible between yourselves and the grim scene. You offered no resistance; despite the crushing fatigue that weighed heavily on your body and muddled your thoughts, you were eager to escape the horrors of that place. The pervasive stench of blood and decay had seeped into your clothing, becoming nearly suffocating, making it difficult to breathe and causing a deep ache in your chest.

As you left, you couldn't resist the urge to glance back at the lifeless forms of Mags and her family. The scene struck you deeply, like a blow to the gut that stole your breath away. In her final moments, Mags had dragged herself to her son, her fingers interlocking with his as she drew her last breath. That image seared itself into your mind, intensifying your desperation to leave until you were nearly sprinting out of the door.

The house now loomed as a grim testament to the violence that had transpired within its walls. Shadows gathered thickly in the corners, murmuring unsettling recollections you wished to erase from your mind. Each groan of the floorboards and whisper of the wind through shattered windows seemed to echo with ghostly reminders of the atrocities you had witnessed—and narrowly escaped. This sinister ambiance was compounded by a deeper regret: your inability to rescue the Ghoul, resulting in your needing to be rescued by him once again.

The Ghoul moved with a newfound intensity and focus that left your nerves frayed. Normally cautious, almost paranoid about traveling after dark with you in tow, his demeanour had shifted dramatically. Driven by a sense of urgency, he hurriedly led the way outside. "We can't stay here," he growled under his breath, more to himself than to you, his voice a tense murmur. "It's not safe. The next town isn't far; we can make it if we hurry." His words were laced with determination, pushing both of you forward into the encroaching darkness.

His usual paranoia had transformed into a fierce resolve. The normally measured pace was replaced by swift, almost frantic strides, and you struggled to keep up. Each step was a battle against the pain and exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm you, but the Ghoul's insistence was infectious, propelling you forward despite the fatigue weighing down your limbs.

"We're close," he assured, though it was unclear whether he was speaking to you or trying to convince himself. The path ahead was cloaked in shadows, the only light coming from the dim glow of the moon partially hidden by clouds. The noises of the night—distant howls, rustling amongst the dunes, the occasional whistle of the wind—kept your nerves on edge, but the Ghoul's presence offered a small measure of comfort despite your earlier confrontation.

You remained silent, too afraid to question why he was so determined to leave the house in such a hurry. You had your own reasons to comply—each step a painful reminder as your shirt rubbed against the scratch on your pregnant belly—but his urgency unnerved you. He was usually the epitome of calm under pressure, but now he appeared almost desperate, causing your own anxiety to simmer just below the surface.

You cast a wary glance at the Ghoul, observing the tension etched into his features. His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes flicked restlessly from side to side, meticulously scanning the surroundings for any potential threats. The silence stretched taut between you, a palpable tension hanging in the air. As you approached the edge of the property line, the urge to speak became overwhelming. Unable to suppress your curiosity and growing unease, you finally broke the silence.

"What's chasing us?" you whispered, the question escaping your lips before you could rein it in. His head snapped towards you, eyes narrowing for a moment before he responded, his voice low and gravelly.

"You don't need to worry about that," he murmured. The edge in his tone cut through the night air, sending a chill down your spine. "Just hurry up," he said louder this time, his voice firm. As the faint outline of the town emerged, he quickened his pace, and you struggled to keep up, your backpack bouncing painfully against your spine with each hurried step.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, the icy air searing your lungs as a sudden, sharp pang shot through your abdomen. Clutching your stomach, you recoiled in horror when your hand came away slick with thick, crimson blood. Lifting your shirt, the dim light revealed the alarming state of your wound. What had started as a mere surface scratch had transformed into a grotesque display of infected tissue, marked by unsettling shades of green and purple. Yellowish pus oozed from the lesion, trickling down your trembling thigh, each drop intensifying your dread.

The sight alone was enough to send waves of panic through you, but it was the accompanying symptoms—the feverish chills, the throbbing pain, and the overwhelming weakness—that truly underscored the gravity of your situation. Your heart pounded in your chest, a frantic rhythm that mirrored the escalating fear gripping your mind as you realized just how dire your circumstances had become.

Dizziness overwhelmed you, a disorienting fog clouding your thoughts as a wave of nausea surged, making your mouth water uncontrollably. The chilling night air felt like icy tendrils wrapping around you, adding to the disorientation. You fought to steady your breathing and quell the nausea, each breath a struggle against the rising panic that threatened to consume you. Your vision blurred, and the ground beneath your feet seemed to sway.

You knew you should tell him about your worsening condition, but you were reluctant to add to his worry. The Ghoul had enough on his mind without your complications, you rationalized, though a niggling part of you wanted to keep it secret just to spite him. Despite his presence and support, the unresolved tension between you lingered, feeding your stubbornness.

"We're almost there," you muttered to yourself, a mantra to keep your legs moving. The Ghoul glanced back at you, his eyes narrowing as he noticed your distress.

"Everything okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

You forced a weak smile, nodding slightly. "I'm fine," you lied, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. The effort to appear composed was draining, and the dizziness intensified, making it harder to focus on the path ahead.

The town's lights shimmered in the distance, their soft glow promising relief and safety. Each step felt heavier, your legs trembling with the effort to keep moving. The Ghoul eyed you warily, noting the beads of sweat that dripped from your brow despite the harsh coolness of the evening. His hand reached out suddenly, gripping your arm and stopping you in your tracks. You swayed on unsteady feet, his firm hold the only thing keeping you upright. His eyes, filled with concern, searched your face for an explanation you weren't ready to give.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice low and demanding.

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. "It's nothing," you mumbled, but your body betrayed you, another wave of dizziness making you clutch at his side for support.

"Don't lie to me," he said, his grip tightening. "You're not fine. Tell me what's going on."

Your vision blurred again, dark spots dancing at the edges, and you stumbled, the infection's toll on your body becoming undeniable. Each pulse of pain radiating from the wound sapped your strength, making it increasingly difficult to stay upright. Despite this, a stubborn part of you resisted admitting the severity of your condition, not wanting to appear weak or vulnerable.

The Ghoul tightened his grip on your arm as he shook you gently but firmly, trying to snap you out of your daze. "Tell me. Now." He urged, his voice low but intense. He dipped his head to meet your eyes, which wandered aimlessly, struggling to focus.

"I... I'm not feeling well," you stammered to the Ghoul, your voice quivering as you struggled to focus on him through the growing haze of discomfort. His eyes widened as he pulled your hand away from your stomach, revealing the crimson stain seeping through your wet shirt. He lifted the hem, his teeth clenching at the sight of the grievous wound.

His gloved hands moved with a mixture of desperation and gentleness as he examined the area around the infected wound. He was careful not to press too hard, yet his touch was thorough, probing the extent of the damage. The seriousness of the situation was unmistakable in his expression—the furrowed brow, the tight set of his jaw, and the flicker of panic in his eyes. You could see him mentally calculating the next steps, his mind racing to figure out how best to manage the injury in the desolate surroundings.

The cold air bit at your exposed skin, adding to your discomfort, while the distant lights of the town seemed both tantalizingly close and frustratingly far. The Ghoul's demeanour was a blend of determination and fear as he quickly formulated a plan in his mind.

"Is it bad?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, thin with fear. You weren't sure if you truly wanted to know the answer, and even less sure that he would tell you. His eyes flickered with something unreadable and he hesitated for a moment, as if weighing how much to reveal.

He grasped your wrist and began rapidly tapping on the screen of your Pip-Boy, his eyes scanning the information with growing alarm. The glow from the screen illuminated the deep lines around his sunken eyes, and in your hazy state, you thought about how handsome he looked. When he finally looked up, you felt unsteady under his worried gaze.

"We need to go—now," he declared, his voice leaving no room for hesitation. His grip tightened around your forearm, the pressure both reassuring and insistent, as he tried to pull you up. The intensity in his eyes and the firmness of his hold made it clear that there was no time to waste, and your mind struggling to keep pace with the rapid escalation of the situation.

Despite his urgency, your legs betrayed you. They faltered, stumbling and ultimately failing as you collapsed onto the sandy ground with a soft thud. The Ghoul's voice echoed as if from a distance, his words urging you to get up, but your body felt disconnected, heavy, and unresponsive. A visceral wave of panic surged through you, tightening its grip around your chest, making it hard to breathe. The edges of your vision began to blur, darkness creeping in, threatening to engulf your senses like a spreading shadow.

As you lay sprawled on the cold, sandy ground, the Ghoul quickly bent down to your level, his face etched with unease. He searched your eyes, looking for any flicker of awareness, but your responses were slow, your eyelids heavy and fluttering, making his movements appear surreal and drawn out, as if you were both submerged underwater.

Despite the chill that pervaded the air, beads of sweat continued to form on your forehead, streaming down your face as a fever raged within you. In a feeble attempt to find solace, you reached out blindly, seeking the familiar touch of your companion, only to grasp at the empty, chilling air.

Then, a profound dizziness overwhelmed you, like being pulled into a deep, dark chasm. You lost all sense of direction, no longer aware of what was up or down, past or present. The world around you faded to nothingness as you slipped further away, drifting into an inescapable void that swallowed all consciousness.

A faint voice, soft yet persistent, gently coaxed you back from the void's embrace. Wrapped in a dense fog, your mind meandered through scattered memories, teetering on the edge of consciousness. Slowly, sensations began to return as if awakening from a deep slumber; nerves tingled and flickered back to life under your tentative command. The first movement was a mere twitch of a finger, but it felt monumental, the brush of thin cotton against your skin amplifying the moment.

What happened? Where were you? These questions nudged at the corners of your slowly clearing mind. With effort, you drew a deep breath, marshalling the strength to pry your eyes open. They fluttered initially, rebelling against the harshness of light and the strain of waking. Gradually, your vision steadied, focusing upward at a ceiling marred by stains and the passage of time. You lay still for a moment, taking in your surroundings, trying to piece together how you had arrived at this unfamiliar place.

"Thought I'd lost you again," the voice spoke, its timbre resonating with relief and lingering anxiety. You turned your head slowly, your neck stiff and uncooperative, to see the Ghoul sitting in a dusty armchair nestled in the corner of the room. He had one leg crossed over the other, and his hands were clenched into tight fists resting in his lap. His posture betrayed the tension that had not yet left him.

"You seem to have a nasty habit of getting away from me," he added, a faint, wry smile playing at the edges of his lips, softening the sternness that had settled over his features. The combination of relief and reproach in his eyes alluded to the worry he had endured. The dusty armchair creaked slightly as he shifted, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward, his gaze never leaving you.

Your lips parted to respond, but the pain and dryness in your throat silenced you, leaving only a strained whisper. The effort made your vision blur momentarily, and you felt a wave of dizziness threaten to pull you back under.

The Ghoul jumped from his seat, closing the distance between you in two swift strides. He grabbed a glass of water from the side table and held it to your lips. His hand gently rested underneath your chin, helping you tilt your head back into the pillow as you swallowed painfully. The cool water soothed your raw throat, each gulp easing the burning sensation and bringing a momentary relief from the discomfort. His gloved touch was surprisingly tender, his eyes filled with concern as he looked down at you.

"Easy now," he murmured, his voice softer than you had ever heard it. The rough exterior he usually presented was momentarily stripped away, revealing a depth of care you hadn't fully realized before. As you finished the water, he set the glass aside, his hand lingering on your chin before carefully adjusting the pillow behind your head, ensuring you were comfortable.

"Thanks," you managed to whisper, your voice still hoarse but filled with gratitude. "Guess you can't get rid of me, can you?" You joked, your voice light despite the underlying exhaustion. 

A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Wouldn't want to," he replied, his tone gruff but softened by a note of sincerity. A flutter rose in your stomach at his words, and you felt an ache at the growing distance between you as he returned to his seat. Your fingers flexed against the bedsheet, wanting to reach out to him, but the memory of his words in the house still lingered.

The room seemed colder without his proximity, the silence stretching out once more. You watched him, noting the tension still evident in his posture, the way his hands clenched and unclenched restlessly in his lap. His gaze was fixed on some distant point, lost in thoughts you couldn't decipher.

As your eyes adjusted and began to focus, you took in more of the surroundings. You were in a bedroom, worn and slightly dishevelled. The vanity mirror across from the bed was cracked, its spiderweb fractures distorting the reflections it caught. A large, old wardrobe stood partially open, its doors unable to fully close, with clothes spilling out like colourful waterfalls onto the dusty floor.

The walls were faded, peeling wallpaper hinting at a time long past, while the floorboards creaked softly under any movement. A small nightstand next to the bed held your Pip-Boy and the empty glass. The bed you lay in had a wrought iron frame, rusted and showing signs of age, with a thin, threadbare quilt covering you. A faint scent of dust and age hung in the air, mingling with a lingering hint of antiseptic from recent efforts to clean and treat your injuries.

Despite its state, the room had a certain charm, a sense of having been lived in and cared for, even if that care had become sporadic over the years. The small details—a chipped teacup on the vanity, a child's drawing pinned to the wall—made it feel almost homely.

Your eyes widened in a flash of panic as you turned back to the Ghoul, but he cut you off before you could speak. "We aren't back there," he quickly interjected, his voice firm but reassuring, keen to alleviate your fears even momentarily. "We're safe."

His words settled some of the immediate panic, and you took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself in the present. Of course he hadn't taken you back to Mags' house, he'd wanted to get away from there almost as much as you had. Maybe more.

"Where are we?" you croaked, trying to make sense of your surroundings. Your gaze shifted to the window, where thin curtains let slivers of daylight filter through, casting faint patterns on the floor. The sounds of street vendors calling out their wares and distant bird calls drifted in, mingling with the occasional clatter of footsteps and murmured conversations from passers-by.

He shifted slightly in his seat, the gentle sunlight casting a warm glow on his worn features. "A makeshift clinic, managed by an old friend," he explained, his voice calm but laced with a hint of unease. "It's safe, for now." His eyes flickered towards the window, as if to reassure himself of the safety he promised, before returning to you with a determined expression.

He paused, his face reflecting deep thought as he carefully considered his next words. "You've been unconscious for almost two days," he disclosed, his voice heavy with the weight of the vigilance he had maintained while watching over you. His eyes were shadowed with exhaustion, the lines on his face more pronounced from the sleepless nights.

"You should have told me," he said, his voice a mix of frustration and concern. "How could you be so reckless to keep this to yourself?" His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it impossible to look away, the weight of his stare drilling into your conscience. The guilt welled up inside you, sharp and consuming, making your chest tighten with regret.

"I didn't want to bother you," you said softly.

He scoffed in response, rolling his eyes. "That's ridiculous," he muttered.

Narrowing your eyes in determination, you pushed yourself up to rest against the pillow, wincing slightly from the effort. The fabric rustled as you settled into a more upright position, your gaze locked onto his, the resolve in your eyes challenging the storm of emotions swirling in his.

"I'm tired of being a burden," you continued, your voice steadier now. The weight of your words hung in the air, the unspoken resentment evident in your tone. The room felt still, the sounds from outside momentarily fading as the intensity of the moment drew both of your focuses inward.

He shook his head, a sneer playing on his lips as he looked at you. "That's not your choice to make," he said, his tone carrying a cold edge. His eyes shifted away from you, staring out the window as if searching for answers in the distance.

The room seemed to grow colder, the sunlight no longer providing its gentle warmth but instead highlighting the tension between you. Each breath you took felt heavier than the last, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on both of you. The air was thick with emotions, and the distance between you felt insurmountable.

A chill ran through you, his words settling like a heavy weight in the space between you. "Seems I don't get much choice over anything nowadays," your voice wavered slightly, but you held his gaze when it snapped back to you, determined to confront him. You could see his jaw tighten, his eyes flickering with a mixture of frustration and something you couldn't quite identify. Each second stretched out painfully as you waited for his response.

"If you've got a death wish, that's between you and that baby," he growled through clenched teeth, pointing at your pregnant belly. "But don't drag me into it. I'm not hauling my ass across the desert just for you to throw your life away at every turn," he spat, his words sharp and biting.

Your breath caught in your throat as his words sunk in. "Glad to see where your priorities truly lie," you said, tears welling in your eyes. Anger surged through you at his insinuation. You didn't have a death wish—far from it. Since the bombings, you had fought tooth and nail to survive and to keep your baby safe, and he knew that.

His words felt like a betrayal. Whether he was trying to push you further away to save face or make it clear that he really did feel nothing for you, his harshness cut deep. The tears spilled over, tracing hot paths down your cheeks. "You know I've done everything to keep us alive," you continued, voice trembling with emotion. "I can't believe you'd think otherwise."

His eyes flickered with a brief moment of regret, but it was quickly masked by the anger that still lingered. "I'm just trying to keep you safe," he muttered, but the words felt hollow against the backdrop of your pain.

"I never wanted this!" you shouted, your voice cracking. "You captured me. I didn't ask for any of this!"

The anger and fear boiled over, and your desperate cries filled the room, making the air between you almost suffocating. The walls seemed to echo your words, amplifying the magnitude of the moment. His expression remained hard, but you could see a flicker of something cross them.

"You think I wanted this?" he shot back, his voice rising. "None of this was supposed to happen!"

"You should have just left me out there!" You cried, voice breaking under the weight of your anguish.

"I wish I did!" The raw emotion in his voice startling you as he stood up, his figure towering over you. The intensity of his words cut through your anger, slicing deep into your heart and leaving you both teetering on the brink of something irreversible. His face was flushed with a mixture of regret and pure fury, and the raw vulnerability in his eyes was a stark contrast to the harshness of his words.

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words and unresolved pain. Each of you grappled with the complex web of emotions that bound you together, the weight of your shared past and uncertain future pressing down heavily.

You wrapped your arms protectively around your belly, your gaze dropping to the intricately patterned bedsheets. The delicate floral design blurred as tears welled up in your eyes. "Get out," you whispered, your voice barely audible, but the sharp flinch of his jaw from the corner of your eye told you that he had heard you clearly.

The words felt like lead on your tongue, heavy and final, as you struggled to maintain your composure. The room, once a refuge, now felt like a battleground. You could sense his presence still looming over you, his conflicting emotions almost tangible in the air between you. The moment stretched, every second amplifying the tension.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you thought back to the memories you'd shared together. Each recollection felt like a dagger to the heart—the lingering gazes, the fleeting moments when you sought solace in his arms, the fragile bond you believed was forming between you. Perhaps it had all been a figment of your imagination, a desperate illusion in the midst of chaos.

The realization struck you like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless and reeling. The weight of it pressed down on you, squeezing the air from your lungs and making your chest ache. You remembered the way his eyes would soften, the rare, fleeting smiles that had given you hope, the comforting warmth of his embrace. But now, those memories felt like cruel jokes, mocking your naïve belief in a connection that perhaps never truly existed.

The Ghoul sighed, running his tongue over his teeth as his gaze briefly flickered to the ground before locking back onto you. "What are you gonna do?" he asked, his tone softer but still edged with irritation. "Don't be so foolish; you wouldn't last a second out there alone."

"Maybe not, but that's no concern of yours," you retorted, refusing to meet his gaze. "If you don't want us, then we don't want you either." You placed a firm hand on the swell of your belly, feeling the life growing inside you.

A small flurry of movement, a determined kick from within, gave you a momentary pause. The sensation was both a reminder and a source of strength. You sniffed, drawing in a shaky breath, and willed your voice to work as you finally looked up at him through bleary eyes, the tears making everything a blur. "Leave," you commanded, your voice trembling but resolute.

He sighed again and moved toward you with an outstretched hand, but you stopped him mid-step. "Go! Get out!" you shouted, your voice echoing off the walls.

The Ghoul looked at you exasperatedly. "There's nothing for you here with me, do you understand? Dispel any romantic notions you have about me, darlin'. I am not a good man," he said, his eyes pleading with you. "But it doesn't mean I want you in harms way—far from it. Just listen to me, dammit."

His words cut through the air like a knife, sharp and final. "I said get out!" You shouted again, your hand gripped the Pip-Boy on the nightstand, and with a surge of adrenaline, you hurled it towards him. He ducked just in time, the metal device shattering against the wall behind him. Shards of glass and metal scattered across the floor, the sharp sound punctuating the tension in the room.

He straightened up, his eyes wide with shock. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by your heavy breathing. You sat there, chest heaving, eyes blazing with a mix of fury and desperation. The broken pieces of the Pip-Boy lay on the floor, a stark reminder of the irreparable rift between you.

"Just leave," you said, your voice now a raw whisper. "We don't need you." The determination in your eyes left no room for argument. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you, before turning and walking out of the room, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed through the stillness.

A few hours later, a knock on the door startled you from your sobs. The door creaked open, and an elderly man entered. His features bore the unmistakable signs of ghoulification: mottled, decaying skin and sunken eyes. Despite his unsettling appearance, his expression was warm and kind, a gentle smile softening the harsh lines of his face.

You eyed him warily as he stepped into the room, each movement slow and deliberate, as if he was conscious of not alarming you further. The contrast between his ghastly visage and the kindness in his eyes created a strange, almost disorienting juxtaposition, leaving you uncertain but cautiously hopeful.

"Good to see you awake," he greeted with a gentle smile, his voice carrying a soothing, raspy tone. He moved toward your bedside with a practiced ease that spoke of long experience and familiarity with such situations. His steps were steady and confident, his presence oddly comforting in the wake of the Ghoul's absence. 

He stopped next to you, his eyes briefly scanning the room before focusing on the IV bag connected to your arm. With expert hands, he adjusted the flow, his touch slow and precise. "Your friend said you were feeling better," he remarked, glancing back at you with a reassuring nod. "Looks like the RadAway is working," he commented, his tone imbued with calm confidence. 

The mention of 'your friend' had your eyes darting to the door, replaying the memory of him walking out of it hours before. A sudden dread gripped you as the realization struck: perhaps it really would be the last time you saw him. Why wouldn't it be? You'd told him to leave, said you didn't want him, which was only partially true.

The truth was more complicated. You wanted him. You undeniably craved his affection and needed his approval, but your stubbornness—almost a mirror of his own—kept you from admitting it. He had made it clear that he didn't want you, or at least that's what his words said. Yet, his actions often told a different story, leaving you confused and frustrated.

You weren't going to beg. Pride and self-respect wouldn't allow it, no matter how much your heart ached for him to come back. The conflicting emotions swirled within you, a storm of longing, pride, and hurt. You drew a shaky breath, pushing the thoughts aside as you refocused on the present, determined not to let your vulnerability show.

"Dry your eyes, pet," the doctor said softly, offering you a handkerchief from his pocket. You took it with a grateful smile, dabbed at your wet cheeks until you felt the tears ebb.

"Thank you," you whispered, watching as the yellow liquid filled the tube attached to your arm. "What is RadAway?" you queried, your eyes narrowing slightly with caution as the elderly ghoul continued his examination, his fingers pressing against your wrist to check your pulse.

"It's a medical treatment used to flush radiation from the body," he explained, his voice steady and informative. "It speeds up recovery, especially with injuries like yours." He paused, then gave you a concerned look. "It's essential out here. I'm surprised you don't know about it."

His eyes held a hint of curiosity, perhaps even worry, as he studied your reaction. The weight of his gaze made you acutely aware of your vulnerability and the gaps in your survival skills, but his tone remained kind, without a trace of judgment.

You sniffed and feigned a smile. "I'm still getting my bearings on the surface," you said, your voice small.

His eyes flickered with an unspoken understanding, a subtle nod acknowledging the enormity of adjusting to life above ground. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly in a sympathetic smile, and he placed a reassuring hand on your arm.

"That makes sense," he replied softly, his voice full of understanding. "It's a lot to take in, but you're lucky your friend got you here when he did. He almost woke the whole town with his hollering. I was in the middle of a quiet evening when the commotion started. I looked out the window and saw him rushing through the streets, carrying you in his arms. Poor feller, the colour drained straight from his face with all the worry—well, as much as it can drain from us irradiated folk."

He paused, shaking his head slightly with a wry smile. "He was frantic, you know, practically bursting through the door, demanding help. I've seen people in desperate situations before, but the way he looked at you... It was clear you mean a lot to him."

The doctor's words painted a vivid picture, but you shook your head, dispelling the hopeful image he conjured. The Ghoul's actions came about as a result of you flaking out on him during his urgency to get away from that house. Despite wanting to believe otherwise, you reminded yourself that you didn't mean anything to him.

"He was just trying to get away," you murmured, more to yourself than to the doctor. "I collapsed, and he didn't have a choice."

The doctor studied you for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Maybe," he conceded gently, "but actions speak louder than words. Sometimes, people show they care in ways they can't admit to themselves."

You didn't respond, letting his words linger in the air as he pulled a rusted stethoscope from his coat, preparing to listen to your heart. The cold metal pressed against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of your conflicting thoughts.

As the doctor listened intently, you couldn't help but replay the moments of the Ghoul's protectiveness in your mind. The anguish on his face when he found you at the house, the curl of his finger beckoning you closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you as you lost yourself in his touch. Had you really imagined those moments? The ones before those? They felt as real as the beat of your heart pounding against your chest at the thought of them.

The tenderness in his eyes, the security of his embrace—it all seemed too genuine to be mere figments of your imagination. Yet, his harsh words and actions contradicted those fleeting instances of connection, leaving you in a state of confusion and doubt.

But sometimes, kind words did slip through. You remembered what he had said hours ago, before the shouting: you had told him that he couldn't get rid of you, and his response had been a soft admission, almost lost in the tension of the moment. "Wouldn't want to," he'd said.

You were so hurt by his past rejection, by his constant pushing you away rather than addressing any feelings he may harbour, that you didn't stop to consider, in the heat of the moment, that perhaps you were doing the exact same thing when you told him to leave.

The doctor finished his examination and removed the stethoscope, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Your heart sounds strong," he said, his tone reassuring. "Physically, you're doing better. But don't ignore what's happening inside here," he added, gently tapping his temple.

You nodded absently, his advice barely registering as you continued to grapple with your emotions. The lines between reality and wishful thinking blurred, and you found yourself longing for clarity in the midst of the turmoil.

"Would you like me to check?" he asked, gesturing to your stomach that you still hugged protectively. You blinked, slow to understand until he mouthed 'the baby.' He was a genuine doctor, or as close to one as you could find in the wastelands. The individuals who had held you captive in the vault were more torturers disguised as scientists than actual healers. However, the risk of revealing your pregnancy was not lost on you, especially after recent events.

His hands stilled as he met your gaze with an understanding that seemed to stretch beyond the typical patient-doctor exchange. It was evident he had a wealth of experience dealing with the unique challenges of the wasteland, a far cry from the so-called doctors of your past who had hidden cruelty behind their clinical masks.

"Yes please," you replied, your voice tinged with apprehension. You hesitated, weighing the risk of revealing too much against the need to know your child's fate. "Is my baby okay? Can you tell me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, yet laden with the weight of your worries and hopes.

The elderly ghoul's expression softened further, and he nodded slowly, placing a reassuring hand on your arm. "Let's take a look," he said gently, reaching for a small, somewhat battered handheld device from his bag. He moved the device slowly over your abdomen, his eyes focused intently on the faint screen.

After a moment, he looked up, a small smile breaking through his weathered features. "From what I can see, your baby seems to be doing just fine," he announced softly. "The heartbeat is strong and steady. You're both fighters, that's clear."

Relief washed over you upon hearing the doctor's reassuring words, easing some of the persistent tension that had gripped you since you regained consciousness. Your eyes instinctively sought the Ghoul's, and your heart dropped at the sight of the empty chair.

"A few more days of rest and you should be back on your feet," the doctor said, gently covering your stomach with the thin sheet. He reached into his bag and pulled out a small bottle of pills. "Take one a day with food, and if you come into contact with any large bouts of radiation, double the dose until you can get some RadAway," he instructed, handing you the bottle.

The torn label read Rad-X, and you turned it in your hand, trying to decipher the rest of the words. The doctor watched you with a patient expression, his gaunt features softening as he spoke. "Rad-X is used to increase your resistance to radiation," he explained, his voice steady. "It’s different from RadAway, but just as important, especially with your...relations," he finished, and your cheeks burned at his insinuation.

You thanked the doctor when he promised to check on you again soon before leaving the room. As the door closed behind him, you sighed and settled back into your pillow. Relief washed over you knowing your baby was healthy, but the sense of being on your own left your heart heavy. The room felt both too big and too small, the deafening silence pressing in on you as you stared at the Rad-X label, contemplating the uncertain future that lay ahead.

You didn't see the Ghoul after that, but a supply of RadAway and bullets appeared on your bedside table. The sight of the neatly arranged supplies made you pause, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over you. You assumed it was his doing, imagining him sneaking in during the night amidst the few hours you'd managed to sleep. The thought of him moving silently through the darkened room, leaving behind the essentials you needed, brought a bittersweet pang to your heart.

A woman named Ada, who you had come to learn was the owner of the establishment, dropped in regularly to bring you warm meals. They were hearty and nourishing, intended to build your strength, but your appetite was often suppressed by the weight of your thoughts and the loneliness that settled in your heart. Ada's gentle encouragement and understanding smile were small comforts in the otherwise stark and quiet room.

She chatted with you during her visits, sharing stories about the settlement and its inhabitants, giving you a glimpse of the life that awaited you once you were well enough to leave the confines of your room, if you were to stay in town. Her tales painted a picture of a tight-knit community, resilient and resourceful, each person playing a vital role in their collective survival.

"The Ghoul, he's gone," she informed you on morning, her voice gentle but firm. "I do hope you'll consider staying. He's covered your keep for more than enough time." She rested her hand on your shoulder, her touch warm and reassuring. "It's not safe out there alone."

Her words hit you like a wave, the reality of his absence sinking in. The weight of his generosity and care pressed heavily on your heart. Her eyes were filled with concern, reflecting the danger that awaited beyond the safety of this town, and her kindness was a small comfort in the midst of your turmoil, a reminder that you still had allies even in his absence.

"Thank you, Ada," you said, offering her a smile despite the worry inside of you. "But I have to go."

The morning sun cast a gentle glow on her face, highlighting the kindness in her eyes. She nodded, her own smile reflecting a mixture of pride and concern. "Where will you go?"

You eyed the map in your hands, the one you had taken from the Ghoul the day you left to find the vials. Your eyes traced the path that led to the haven, a route marked with careful notations and warnings. The map had become a lifeline, a tangible connection to him and his meticulous planning.

During the last few days of your bedrest, you had spent hours poring over it, mapping out your journey, and planning stops for resting and loading up on supplies. The intricate details on the map showed the effort he had put into ensuring your safety on your journey to the haven, each mark a testament to his care.

It wasn't until that morning, as you packed your bag and ran your hand over the tattered paper, that your resolve solidified. The realization that he had crafted this map specifically for you, considering every possible danger and refuge along the way, filled you with a bittersweet determination.

"I'm going to find him," you told her, your eyes steely with persistence as you adjusted your backpack over your shoulder. "There are some things I left unsaid," you finished, your voice resolute. 

You hugged her goodbye and thanked the doctor for his car on your way out. When you left the clinic, your gun felt heavier on your hip, the burden of not having the Ghoul there for your protection weighing it down.

Navigating through the bustling streets, you kept a firm grip on the map, each step taking you further from the comfort of Ada and the doctor's care and deeper into the unknown. Vendors continued to call out, their voices blending into a distant hum as you made your way toward the town's edge.

As you reached the outskirts of the town, the lively sounds of the marketplace faded behind you, replaced by the vast silence of the open desert. You paused for a moment, breathing deeply, taking in the endless expanse of sand and scrub stretching out before you. The horizon shimmered with heat, the sun high and relentless in the sky.

You questioned whether you were making the right choice in attempting to find the Ghoul. The vast, treacherous wasteland stretched out in every direction, offering countless places for him to disappear. He could have gone anywhere, but deep down, you felt certain that he wouldn't retrace his steps. He would likely stay as far away from Mags' home as possible, avoiding any place with too many memories or potential danger.

Then, the hairs on your arm stood to attention at the familiar sound of spurs jingling on the ground behind you. The distinct, rhythmic clinking sent a surge of recognition through you, and a hopeful smile began to tug at your lips. However, before you could turn around, the cold, unyielding metal of a gun barrel pressed firmly against your temple, sending a chill down your spine and freezing you in place.

Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart pounded in your chest, the sudden shift from hope to fear almost too much to process. The coolness of the barrel contrasted starkly with the warmth of the sun on your skin.

"I'll ask you this just once," a rough voice growled from behind, the command filled with menace. "Where is Cooper Howard?"

Taglist: @cheshirecat484 @lothiriel9 @ancientbeing10 @maeplaysbass @moon-trash1507 @rebelmarylou @giggle-shade @skrzydlak

(if you have been removed from the taglist it is because your blog does not show an age)

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Hello! May I request a headcanon for how Tommy Shelby would pine/crush over a reader maybe one who has rejected him in the past because she worked for him or because she wants to keep their relationship as friends/professional! (Since you’re writing you can make the scenario as to why she said no whatever you like) but truly i’d just love to see a headcanon on him falling in love and longing for someone who he can’t have so easily :)

Imagine Rejecting: Thomas Shelby

Tommy x fem!reader

Trope: Right person, wrong time. Warnings: Angst, pining, toxic romantic tendencies, infidelity.

You worked under him as Lizzie's replacement as his secretary, you saw his books and you knew the red on his suit collar wasn't always lipstick. You went with him almost everywhere, memorized his schedule, and completed small tasks that often caused him headaches. Long hours in the office stopped feeling so lonely. And that's where the trouble started.

When he found himself growing fond of you, he tried to fight it. He really did. But feelings grow over time and before he knew it, he started to see you as a partner. At first, he told himself that you reminded him of Grace. It was easier to tell himself that he was projecting her image onto you. However, there came a point where he couldn't lie to himself anymore.

His eyes would follow you as you left a room. His head would turn upon hearing your voice. The smell of your perfume was enough to give him pause at times. When he was at home, he would sometimes go into his office to call you from your desk in Birmingham. Just to have a conversation, even if it was to go over a detail for a meeting he "forgot."

Tommy confessed his feelings to you one late night at the Midland Hotel. You sat with him at the hotel bar, not a soul around except for the two of you and half a bottle of whiskey. Maybe is was the whiskey that did it, but he took your hand and said: "I've been trying to think of what to do about you. The things that you make me want to feel, make me want to do. It shouldn't be this way, but it is. I want you."

You slowly took your hand from him, and stood. The look in your eyes was enough to make him sober. Quietly, you gave your reply, "I'm going to call for two cars to take us home. I'll see you Monday morning, Mr. Shelby."

Thomas Shelby is not unused to rejection. It hasn't bothered him in years. With you, however, it's different. You aren't a political rival, a gang leader, or a position he's being blocked from obtaining. You are a person. A woman who has denied him access to your heart.

That is very, very different.

Not to mention a blow to his ego. Tommy knows he's attractive, and he knows that most of the women he interacts with are more than a little interested in him. Ladies from poor families see a man that can provide. Ladies from wealthy families see a man of danger that can make them feel alive. You didn't seem to fall into either category. You didn't seem to need him the way most people did.

He wouldn't discuss that night at the Midland with you for several months. When it finally did get addressed, you seemed surprised. Had you assumed he was drunk? It hardly mattered. You tried to turn him down, again "We can't, Tommy."

"Of course we can."

You scoffed, "We shouldn't. You have a wife and two children, and I am merely your employee."

Tommy got closer to you, his eyes caught between staring at your rosy painted lips and the look in your eyes. His fingertips gazed your wrist. It would be so easy to just kiss you. To take you into his arms and just hold you. Did you truly not want him? As he stared you down, the answer was found in the tears that welled in your eyes. No, you were just as sick in the heart as he was.

"Lizzie understands. Or marriage is a partnership, nothing more. We can be as we like, she wants nothing to do with it," Tommy takes your chin in between his thumb and index finger. "Tell me you don't want me, and I'll leave you alone. Tell me that."

Tears stained by your dark mascara roll down your cheeks, a shudder runs through you. "Tommy," you sigh "that's precisely why I'll never give in. I can't live my life as your whore. It's almost as cruel as being your wife."

He let you go. You took two steps back, then left him there. As the door to his office slammed shut, Tommy almost chased after you. But, he didn't. Because you were right.

[adoregojo]

↬ two paths 一 ⦁ nagi.s, reo.m

▶︎ sooooooooooooo... this is some rotting dabble i abandoned, and since Im kind of desperate for any glimpse of motivation, i finished it. and surprise, surprise! its a reo and nagi fic lmaolmao.

▶︎ summary: reo have had a crush on you for a good long two years, and when it's the time to word his love to you, but a obstruct of your part says otherwise. ▶︎ context: nagi is your childhood friend, jealousy, idk if this counts as a love triangle? it's more like your a brick head, some angst (ofc) kind of a plottwist !!gn reader!!

"i like you, I've liked you ever since you stepped into my world, i like everything about you, your smile, your eyes, your gentle hands, your laugh, and most of all your soul that kept me hostage. and i-"

the hang up sound cut him off.

silence fell upon the other side of the phone, only the stillness of the disconnected tone nudging him back to reality. his hold on the phone was a robust one, so stout to the point of a crack to echo. the compound of bitterness, remorse, frustration, all were hefty on the little pinning heart of his.

and with that, you rejected reo, without even saying a word.

and the next days were nothing but a grievous duration, to him the most. as much as reo didn't want to see you for a while, there was no escaping you when you were in the same school, classroom, 一hell, even club. you were in every corner and every ditch, and he'll be a dead lier if he said that your appearance alone wouldn't tiptoe on his heartstrings. reo can stay still ever so firmly and yet you'd still be able to prod him out of his ground as convenient.

reo wanted to be mad at you, to hate you even, but he couldn't, he sincerely couldn't. even when the strain was tense, unbearable, but somehow it also felt pitifully suffocated, graciously. it was you after all, where he felt like a fragile creature under your spell, gosh一 you had reo warped around your finger with cement.

nevertheless, what drove him to the edge was how you operated it. while reo handled it by immersing himself in two blankets and eat ice cream to pacified him to crying himself to sleep. however, you on the other hand was having the time of your life. greeting him good morning to saying goodbyes, even asking him how his day went, did his confession meant that little to you?

reo wondered if you bat an eye, you just denied him after all, but some acknowledgment would've been great. or at least have a talk about it. but instead you acted like it never even happened. the idea of you skipping over his feelings made him sick to his core, it sounded so ill-suited, you above all if not the most considerate, thoughtful person he'd ever met. that's how reo fell for you in the first place.

he wasn't gonna apologies for being selfish, he wanted you to himself. reo kept all his feelings for you bottled up for a good old two years, and he just cannot bare with the fear of someone else stealing you anymore 一something that kept him on trails of restless nights一

maybe that's what herd him away from you, the decedent between the two grew by each day. yet reo loved you too much to live with the consequences of his actions, he can't even look at you without screaming 'why don't you care as much as i do', your sudden unfamiliarity stings him slowly and most of all painfully.

for you to blow him away like a dust that burdens your clothes felt it was caused by a clone, or did he just never knew you like he thought he did?

it ached to see you asking him if he's okay, if you did something wrong to drive him away. and goddamn it hurts seeing you like this, he would rather bang his head to the wall repeatedly than see that anguished expression ever again, and worst of all, reo was the reason for it.

you were heavy on his mind 一as if you weren't already一 the recollection of you standing with your sweaty palms rubbing against each other, a bad habit you do when you get uneasy, he really fucked up to the point where you have became a nervous wreck in his presence. your utter was light, questioning if he even wanted to be your 'friend' anymore.

you weren't the one to blame, reo was the one who stopped talking to you, stopped sitting with you for lunch, he even withdrew the club you two shared 一he didn't even have a liking for it, just joined because you were there一 all that and you still tugged on the last tie of faith reo would walk back into your life with open arms.

but reo didn't want to be your 'friend', not anymore. he wanted to be the one to protect you, to understand you, he wanted to be your man, your other half more anything, for him to be your everything just like you are his. you can't just make heaven a living place on earth then walk away when he was on knees for you.

he left you at halt, saying that he needed some time. you never knew time for what because he walked away before letting you word anything out. so now, his hands buried deep in his pockets, he felt heavy, mind and heart on a race track. he felt awful, the image of you standing in confusion, lost on what to do will hunt him to his grave. he tried running his fingers throughout his violet lockes, he was petty, selfish, and reo knew he could've worded it better instead of this.

from the corner of his eye, he could spot a bunch of flowers fluttering under the rush of air, hit by the sunlight to outshine any other plants besides. he could've think of how beautiful they looked, but no, the first thing that popped out his mind was the image of how bliss you'll be seeing them flourish just the way you liked it.

reo contemplating his actions, the pure, straightforward out of his heart gates confession and how far it had driven him. how beyond it had tossed what you two had. something blended with bittersweetness squeezed within his chest, envisioning of your smile made it a challenge to breathe.

so he keeps on strolling, trying to straighten himself until a familiar tall white headed form comes to his view. ranking ahead of a vending machine, nagi was too busy searching for what it appears to be a coin to even notice reo.

nagi was your friend, the one who watched the two of you downfall in silence. he didn't say a thing about it, didn't get involved and much rather concentrate on his phone-games. but there was something else, nagi have been your friend for what reo have been told since childhood. it was something anyone can figure out in the first glance, nagi doesn't leave your side for what it seems like eternally, he remained as your sidekick for decades. he witnessed all your phases, your growth. and he wasn't planning on departure his spot. it was a rare sight to see nagi not glued to your side, did the sky spare him? did his desperation reaches the empyrean?

"hey," reo announced his presence, nagi's bored eyes soaring over him. so the purple head flipped a coin to his direction, nagi tamed it halfway, staring at the single coin then back at his friend. "need another one." he uttered flatly as ever, so reo push out a sigh as he tossed him another one. the snowy head mummers a low thanks.

"listen, i need to tell you something." reo enunciates after a moment of hesitation, caressing the back of his neck as his lilac hues kept on swirling around. his friend just humming in acknowledgment, supporting his chin with his hand while still examining over the endless optionals of drinks.

"it's about yn."

nagi rattled momentarily, your name was like a cold water on his senses.

well, that was easy. reo thought. "i did something a few weeks ago, and i think i fucked up everything." he says, undertone. as if he was admitting an unforgivable crime.

"what did you do?" there was something off about nagi's tone, his grip on the coins was merciless. but his face still seemed boarded, nonchalantly but oddly firmed for some reason.

"i kind of admitted my feelings to them..."

nagi's daze expression shattered in an instant, not anything crazy, but his eyes grew obscure, casing over reo like a giant blacked cloud.

for nagi to carry that kind of aura was eccentric, that face would only arise every time an unnamed got a little too close to you. at that time, reo convinced himself that he was imagining that, because nagi out of all people stood his ground when it comes to dating, he'd always say the same thing 'dating sounds like a hassle'. and sometimes something wild like 'don't need someone else around, I already have yn.' reo wasn't a backstabber, he only confessed to you because he lived under the roof that his friend wasn't even able to handle anything intrigued with romance.

"i just, been liking them for ages. and i found the strength to finally say it to them, they-"

"hung up on you." the snowy head finished his line, which made reo eyes widen a bit.

he shifted awkwardly, "haha, did they tell you? how embarrassing.." he tried laughing it off, trying to avoid nagi's gaze for his sake.

"they didn't." nagi spoke quickly, voice strained than usual.

"oh? so how did you?.."

"because i did it. i was the one who hanged up."

there was a moment of lull, where not even the waves of wind could sooth over the tension. reo stood still, waiting for nagi to stick out his tongue playfully and shout 'gotcha!', praying for whoever might've fell upon to this to be a sick prank.

"you what?" he doesn't even realize he spoke before the words had already slipped.

nagi sigh tiredly, his fingers still at halt to press the numbers of his wanted drink, he didn't like focusing on two thing at the same time. "i thought you'd figure it out already. man, do i have to explain myself now? what a hassle." he let out softly.

"nagi, you-"

reo doesn't get get the chance to speak, to think, before nagi cut him off swiftly handling the conversation, like he knew this was coming. "listen, reo. i like being your friend, but i can't let you have yn." his words kept hurtling reo, it all poured down at his like a sucker punch.

"i don't understand."

"it's not that hard, i liked them first, i found them first. so they're basically mine."

oh, oh.

it all made sense now. reo felt like an idiot, why is he seeing this now? this is why you were clueless, because you didn't answer it in the first place. why, why was he so rushed to say it and not letting what he thought was you speak first.

every time when nagi would drink from the same bottle of yours, when he would twirl around a piece of your hair randomly, when his head would rest on your shoulder in every ride home, when he would shut down every time reo rambled about you, he just got it. why was he just connecting the puzzle? was his feelings for you so blinding that he couldn't see this?

reo wanted to say something, in fact things. but the lump in his throat clogs his attempts to protests. leaving his mouth agape.

and it was like nagi couldn't get a hold of concern about this, in fact he found waiting for his drinks to make it way down more interesting. yet he sensed a blazing breeze from his friend's direction, it was hard not to when they were on the same burden as an elephant. so the snowy head swiftly retorted, "plus, you already are the standard, right? I'm pretty sure you can find someone else, it'll be better if you found one quicker."

after that, nagi bent over to grab what was supposed to be his lemon tea alongside your favourite one. boredom eyes doubled-dyed at the cans, mostly at yours before blowing out a vague breath一did he just scoff?

"why you.."

"sorry, don't like sharing."

and with that, nagi walked away. head empty with the only maintenance thing was a picture of you as he handed you your favourite flavour with the money that wasn't even his. leaving reo dumbfounding at his back, he didn't get a say on this, like this wasn't even meant for him.

this wasn't a stage he can purchase to himself, not even to earn a role. he felt like a third-wheel in you and nagi's love tale.

it loathes him, brings him to edge even. but most of all, reo now wanted you more than anything.

[whalesforhands]

the flowers that bloom without you (tartaglia x reader)

warnings: I LOVE CHILDE SO MUCH, angst, blood and slight gore descriptions, hanahaki au, reader is not traveller, reader is childe’s childhood friend

“Does love truly need words?”

Ajax never really understood what you meant by that. Never really got your cryptic bouts of speech as you stared out the window, blanket tucked over your form as you listened to the bustling of the city, your face looking weary, bags under your eyes dark, skin almost icily cold whenever he would lay a hand upon you to personally check on your condition.

From personal nurses, personal doctors, hells, even researchers that he paid extensively to search for the cause of your illness. Yet, an answer had yet to be found, he’s growing restless with every passing day, anger and irritation swirling in his head with every lower-rank recruit he inevitably beats to a pulp to release stress.

Just what was the source of this stubborn disease?

Your condition would never get better if you had stayed in the cold, unforgiving climates of Morepesok.

You would only seek to worry him whilst he was out on the job, thousands of miles away from you. His family can only do so much by informing him of your worsening, deteriorating self. Your insistent coughs, your shortened breaths, a body that seemed to be growing colder and colder that rivalled the icy winds of the small fishing village that you both grew up in.

Another thing Childe has noticed in the time you spent writing each other, was that you liked to prance around the truth.

You weren’t getting better like you claimed in those letters.

He doesn’t ever wish to come home only to see your tombstone. He could never begin to even fathom the thought. So upon the news in which he had orders to depart to the warmer atmosphere of Liyue, he whisked you away.

(Despite your initial rejections.)

He’s not taking anymore chances. Not when you had insisted that it was nothing, that you’ll be fine, only for it to end with you collapsing to the ground right before him, mouth spewing globs of blood that had caked up and solidified within your throat. He didn’t know whether he was more disgusted to that sight, or of himself for being too patient with you.

Though, you seem to be having quite the improvement to your wellbeing ever since you’ve arrived in the bustling city of Liyue.

“A crush? All of a sudden?” He’s chewing on some sweet potato snacks he had bought for you to come try together, a bag of the aforementioned snack on his lap as he opens his mouth to let you throw another into his mouth for him to catch. The odd, salty sweetness is actually quite addicting.

(And so were the giggles you made whenever he successfully caught one.)

“It’s not all of a sudden!” You’re huffy, defensive, angry and quite frankly, offended as you cross your arms, lightly smacking him as he feigns pain, an overly dramatic yelp and rubbing of his injury following.

“I had it— Since—“ It’s cute how you fight to find the words, puffing your cheeks up, growing determined as you look back up at him. “Since a really long time, okay?! That’s how you know feelings like that are real!”

Always the hopeless romantic. He laughs at you as you continue to blow a fuse, warmth emanating in his chest as he notices the drastic improvements to your health.

You’re looking bright today. Face more coloured, hair even shinier than usual, eyes brighter than they have ever been before. Maybe you were getting better.

A light flick to your forehead as he watches you swipe at his hand with a blush and a smile.

“Why don’t you just confess then?”

You grow silent.

“I… don’t think I could find it in my heart to.” Your tired eyes trail out to the bustling city of Liyue as your demeanor falls back into a calm, eyes blanking out as murmured words are caught on his ears. “Falling in love is so unpredictable…” His fists clench.

He thinks you’re stupid, foolish even, to keep those messy, deep feelings hidden from this secret crush of yours. Those stringent secrets you keep, never telling them. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You slap your cheeks, as if to snap out of your trance choosing to smile up at him from atop your bed instead. l swear I will find that strength one day!”

You’re so stupid. Yet, he still loves you all the same. You are his dearest childhood friend, after all.

(And that’s all you’ll ever be… Right?)

——

The festival is loud this year. You stare out of your bedroom window, barely able to see the explosion of colour against the starry night sky, obscured by tall buildings and infrastructure.

“Miss Lumine invited me to watch the lantern rite with her today!” His eyes are alight with mirth, his grin excited and just so… Full of life.

Ajax always looked the prettiest when he was happy.

So it’s okay. Whatever is okay as long as he is happy. Anything for him.

You don’t even mind the feeling of the flowers blooming deep within you. The itch in your throat, the fluttering you had to endure in your lungs.

You do it for love. Love so deep-sated and rooted to your very core, it hurts. Love so hard to describe, you sometimes fear that it doesn’t exist until you see him walk into the room, causing the blooming, the feelings literally swirling within your lungs, shortening your breaths as the petals flutter about in your heart.

You’re in love with him. Unbelievably, helplessly so.

You can’t even feel the hot tears dripping onto your hands as lights of the glowing, festive explosions shine through your window, casting you in an almost apologetic glow as you hear the laughter of the common folk outside.

He chose her in the end. You’re not surprised, really. Who would even want to spend their time with the terminally ill? Who would ever want to watch the fireworks from within a glorified hospital room? The scent of iron with an undertone of flowery fragrances, paired with quite frankly, a shitty view?

“Ajax— Would you have time to watch the fireworks with me this year…? Since you have—“

You take in a breath, your hands trembling as they dig into the skin of your thighs, your blanket obscuring them where you laid. “Plans with Miss Lumine.”

Lumine, Lumine, Lumine. The traveller who had stolen his attention away with barely a twitch of her pinky finger, the one who had a natural disposition for battle, a prowess for duels. She who was charming, skilled and everything you weren’t.

It hurts all the more at the thought of what a wonderful person she is. Everything that you could never even hope to be.

You can’t even resent her, for her kindness and willingness to help those who needed it preceded every silver of hatred you built. She was simply… Her. And you could never find it in yourself to hate someone who had as much goodwill as she did.

A contemplative hand is placed under his chin, before that stupidly pretty smile on his face breaks out. “Of course! I’d be stupid to not come spend time with you.” A wink is sent your way as he holds your hand, winding your pinkies together.

You want to cry.

“Love can be so fickle, Ajax.” You’re staring straight into his eyes as that promise manifests from the entanglement of your fingers. Are you… Tearing up?

“For if you get caught in it’s arms,” You’re still smiling as he throws you a look of utter confusion, patting your head as he showers you with attention, unwinding your fingers to bring out a handkerchief to wipe at your tears for you. The bouquet of glaze lilies by your bedside shimmering in the afternoon sunshine.

“You’ll be happy even if you di—“

“There you go being cryptic again,” He’s sighing, absolutely confused as he lightly dabs at your eyes. “You’re going to make me sad, you know?” All this talk about death… He wants to keep you smiling, even if it’s just for a little while.

It doesn’t matter that he broke that silly promise. He’s happy, so you are too. That’s all you could ever hope for.

——

“I’m surprised you picked me.”

“Of course, comrade!” He’s smiling, twirling a lone Glaze Lily in his hand as he regards the traveller, leaned back and elbows rested upon the railing as he looked up at the brilliant sky.

“I’m not one to turn down a good time. Plus,” The flower is held between his fingers as he straightens his back. “I’m here to collect my insider information from my favourite errand girl.” A handsome grin growing on his cheeks as he sees the golden-haired girl stand beside him.

“I want information, comrade.” The chopsticks in his hand are fumbled with, the mechanics of it lost. “On someone precious to me.”

“Hanahaki.” Lumine’s voice is dead serious as her eyes get lost at the sight of the lanterns above. “A terminal illness that stems from love, causing flowers to take root in their lungs.” An ironic disease, taking ‘blooming feelings’ far too literal, utilizing such a pure emotion against the victim. It makes him sick to his stomach.

Good. As expected of the famous, reliable little traveller. More competent than any goon he’s ever had.

He’s growing anxious with her words, though. “And the cure?”

“Surgery. It’s possible for a procedure to be done to remove the roots on the lungs. There’s a surgeon in Inazuma that—“

Then it’s done. That’s all? Then you’ll be cured and won’t be bedridden? He’ll arrange for it at the earlie—

“But,” Lumine’s voice is slightly shaky, her grip on the rails tightening as the feel of the metal digs into her palms. “The feelings of the victim will disappear.” Her golden eyes meet a palpitating, uneasy blue. “Sources cited that… The surgery will remove any and all emotion from them.” He knows what she’s implying.

You’ll never fall in love again.

“I don’t ever want to let them go, Ajax.” Your hand is over your heart as your shy gaze meets his. “It’s so precious to me.” The smile on your face begets the stuttering in his chest, the sweat on his palms.

Beautiful.

No. He— Can’t. The thought of you never able to think of another person romantically… Is sickeningly appealing. No. He can’t do that to you. Not if you’ll be unhappy because of it.

He gulps, as if swallowing the lump stuck in his throat. “Is there no other solution?”

“Reciprocation of their feelings.” Lumine’s straightforward, quick to the point. “True reciprocation.” Requited love.

He grits his teeth. So he has to track down whomever you admire… And make them love you? That’s… Honestly not that hard of a request. You’re… Lovely. The loveliest person he has ever had the honour of knowing.

It’s hard to not fall in love with you. And he…Doesn’t like the feeling, the idea of you being in love with someone else. He never did. And he doesn’t think he ever will if it’s not—

(What is he going on about? This isn’t the time for this!)

“Fine.” It’s spat out in disgust. “Do you have any leads on the bastard?” It’s a last resort, a manifestation of the fact that he would do anything for you.

(Even if he feels the ripping, clawing pain at his heart.)

Lumine looks… Absolutely unimpressed. Hand massaging her temple as she fought the urge to wring the Harbinger’s neck.

——

It’s a rush he never thought he had to face, didn’t want to face. How is he so dense? So stupid?

“So? Who is this crush of yours?” The smile is unsteady, almost forced on his face as he watches your expression switch to one of embarrassed shame, almost choking on the scallion pancake in your mouth as he pulled the fork away from your lips.

“He— He’s…” He’s right before you. Closed eye smile, teasing grin and absolutely, infuriatingly cute.

“You can’t just ask that all of a sudden!” Your hand lifts up in defensive, pure embarrassment, not taking into regard how much the adrenaline of love can give you so much strength.

It ends with you coddling a weeping Ajax’s head in your lap, stroking his hair as he continued to fake the apparent agony you caused him, letting him snuggle himself into your arms and overtake his ‘competition’ vying for you.

Good. It’s good that he was the one filling your mind. He doesn’t like it when that secret admirer of yours is the one that takes over your thoughts. He doesn’t want to admit how warm you make him feel on the inside despite how cold your body is.

He doesn’t want you to want that stupid loser of a person who made you so fluttery, making you akin to a blushing schoolgirl whenever he brings that crush of yours up.

Was it stupid of him to not have noticed that he was in love with you all this time? How long had he been tying himself back? How much longer does he have to give to you?

How long did he make you suffer?

Time has been cruel to him, to you.

——

You’re smiling. Why are you still smiling? Aren’t you in pain? Aren’t you scared that you’re going to die? Why are you spending your last moments like this?

He hears it, barely even breathed out from your choked throat.

“Ajax…” You coughing fits are acting up again.

“If- If in another lifetime…” It’s getting worse, your breaths are hacked, blood spilling from your lips with every syllable forced out. “If you could ever learn-“ A multitude of bloodied petals bloom within your throat, suffocating your words, a final attempt to save you the heartbreak you knew all too well. “To love me-“

He calls for the doctor, turning away to grab their attention before your fingers weakly tug at his sleeve.

Your face is aghast with the pain, your mouth stained with blood, crimson petals discharge from within you, stalks entwining and curling itself around your heart, a final comfort and a warning of your last moments.

“Would you please have me?”

Realization strikes, the feeling finally settling down in his stomach in an odd satisfaction, the dull throb of pain in his brain as his breath hitches.

Why? Why why why why why why? Why now?

He doesn’t say anything, trembling hands grasping your own in his before he leans in to capture your cold, colourless lips with his own, returning every ounce of unsaid affection, every bit of undivided attention he owed you.

Childe— No, Ajax doesn’t care that all he can taste is the vile flavour of petals mixed with blood and bile, he can only feel you through this kiss so raw and emotional, that all he can comprehend is the texture of your bitten lips, the slipping warmth of your skin, the feeling of loss that envelops his entire being.

He pulls away, hoping, praying that you understood his reply to your confession. That your eyes will flutter open, staring at him as if he picked the stars from the sky and placed them in your hand, tears that stained your cheeks flaring within your eyes from happiness, skin reinvigorated by the jubilant feeling of having this silent love of yours finally being heard by the object of its affections.

It all goes quiet save for the sounds of his despaired sobs as the wind carries your final breaths away.

Too late.