#and also thought of me every single day for seven years
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wonder-and-wildflowers · 1 year ago
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Definitely didn't help that when the manipulative kid suddenly informs him of all the crazy shit hes been doing behind the scenes to effect poor Chuuya's time at the mafia.
Dazai going through the effort to not only personally write but also print and publish "Chuuya's A Sore Loser" newsletters to everyone in the entire mafia WEEKLY.
Newsletters that EVERYONE READS??? And not to mention it was happening for an entire year before Dazai mentioned it in passing. Everyone reads it but nobody told poor Chuuya about it. Chuuya literally states when Dazai tells him about it that everyone was always smirking/ laughing a little at him when he first joined.
When he JOINED!! Because Dazai started writing immediately after their first game (prolly why he was mia honestly). Because!! Dazai started this newsleter before Chuuya was even a member of the mafia. He set him up from the start and then double-triple-quadrupled down by finding new ways to set him up.
And from what we've seen of Ada! Dazai, he doesn't seem to like writing his own reports and can and WILL pass them onto literally anyone else involved, which means Chuuya has probably been writing all their mission reports.
Imagine how infuriating that would be?? You don't have time to do your paperwork THAT YOU ARE PAID TO DO but you have time to write a WEEKLY newsletter about me, print who-knows-how-many copies of it, then pass it out to everyone in the entire mob??
(edit) I went on twitter for more info and was reminded by a thread from an @ called TatasenkoMana that "--in the gakuen AU of the fourteen WAN, Dazai used to write absolutely everything about Chuuya's daily life,27 books talking only about their time together,pretending it was because the chibi was so annoying while it was because he couldnt take his eyes of him. "
like??
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Guys Chuuya's feelings toward Dazai must be so absolutely incomprehensible right? Right??
Like, you meet this kid who insults you and acts all intellectually superior and then turns around and defends you in front of your friends. Is like "Let's kill this dude together" after which you demand him explain why he's so gung ho about living suddenly, and seem to be satisfied with his answer?? So you put your life in this asshole kid's hands and he comes through. You did it. You defeated the bad guy.
Then this kid turns about and reveals he was playing you and your friends the whole time, and blackmails you with your friends' lives (friends who stabbed you literally in the back like 10 seconds ago, it was a really shitty day). You join the mafia but you pretend somehow you did it of your own volition and not because of the manipulations of this kid.
Fast forward a year later, you make new genuine friends who die immediately by some French asshole trying to control your life, and the shitty manipulative kid is back, saves you from imploding on yourself and carries you all the way to your dying friends so you could say goodbye, running off before you can stop him. Goes completely AWOL when you need him for your plan to kill the French asshole, shows up AGAIN to the place you'd just been tortured in. You decide the only reasonable way to deal with this is to tie him to a pole and spin him around until he's sick, and he 100% agrees. You come up with a plan to finally beat the French asshole. Oops the plan backfires. Now you gotta trust the shitty manipulative kid with your life so you can save the city and maybe the world. Somehow everything works out.
Oh, not to mention the horrible hallucinations you had of this kid claiming you're just like him.
He caused your friends to abandon you. He plays arcade games with you every Sunday. He is the worst version of yourself. He is a menace. You trust him with your life. He claims to want to brainwash you into being your maid. He drew you into the mafia only to ditch you three years later. How Chuuya doesn't have an aneurysm every time Dazai is mentioned I don't know.
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katsu28 · 8 months ago
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for you i'd wait forever
pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader
summary: bradley breaks things off with you before a deployment because he doesn't want you to worry about him (4.2k)
warnings: some swearing, bradley's commitment issues, happy ending i promise!
a/n: okay so from what i gathered from my googling is that tapping out is typically for new military graduates (i think?) but this idea was so cute so pls forgive the inaccuracies i have no idea what i'm doing at all <3 and also pls forgive me for the utter lack of writing since the beginning of the year, these last few months have been brutal (creatively and otherwise) but i am hopefully back!!! xx
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Bradley thought he knew the tolls of being in the Navy. It was tough on not only him, but the people in his life. For the most part, he’d always put his career first. His life had always been on a set track, and although there were plenty of setbacks, he forged ahead until he got where he was today. 
And then he met you. Fell in love with you. Finally knew what it meant to have someone in his corner who was just his. Who knew him for him only, not as Goose’s kid, or Mav’s protege.
For the first time in his life, he could actually see himself spending the rest of it with you. Marriage, house, kids, grandkids—the whole shebang.
That was his first mistake. The more he thought about what life could look like with you, the more he thought about what your life could look like without him. What would happen if something happened to him and he didn’t make it back from this next mission coming up in a few weeks. 
He thought about his mom and how she lost his dad—her husband. The man she thought she’d be spending the rest of her life with. 
Bradley’s thoughts grew quite grim after that. Countless what if’s and thinking about every possible outcome and he eventually made up his mind. He had to break up with you. 
He didn’t want to. Not by a long shot. You were probably the best thing that ever happened to him in his thirty plus years of life. But deep down, he knew that it was the right thing to do. He was about to leave for six, seven months, with little to no contact with anyone who wasn’t Navy. That would definitely take a toll on your relationship. You’d never been through something like this before, and there really was no way to prepare you for what it would be like. 
You would worry about him every single hour of every single day, he knew that for a fact. Bradley barely remembered what it was like when his dad was away because he was so young, but he did remember how worried his mom was all the time.
Looking back, he understood now. He didn’t want that for you. The worry would hold you back from other things you wanted to do in life, things that brought you joy and gave you purpose. 
With the mission creeping up on him faster than he would’ve liked, he knew he had to do it sooner rather than later. 
That was how Bradley found himself on your doorstep right now, pushing down his guilt by telling himself over and over that breaking up with you was in your best interest. He hadn’t called beforehand to tell you he was coming by, so when you answered the door and beamed brighter than the stars when your eyes landed on him, he almost wanted to chicken out. 
“Hi!” You exclaimed, immediately pulling him into a warm hug. His arms closed around you out of instinct, thumb rubbing over the sliver of exposed skin at your waist, nose nudging its way against your neck the way he always did when you embraced him. 
He inhaled the scent of the lotion you loved to use, that flowery one that sometimes made him sneeze. You always said you’d buy a different one the next time you went to the store, but you always forgot. He didn’t mind it at all though. A small bout of allergies was nothing compared to the inevitable smattering of apology kisses you pressed to his face when you realized you’d forgotten. 
Fuck, this was going to be way harder than he thought. 
Your hands made their way up his biceps to cup his cheeks, eyes darting around his face. “What’re you doing here? Oh my god, did we have something planned? I’m so—” 
“No.” He gave his head a shake, offering you a smile. “No, we didn’t have anything planned. I just…wanted to see you. To talk to you.” 
“Come in, come in, I was just about to start dinner,” You hummed, escaping his embrace with an arm hooked through his to tug him over the threshold. “Trying a new recipe I found the other day, not sure if it’ll turn out good or end up being a shitshow, but—well, you can help me be the judge of that, I guess!” 
“Is it okay if we talk first?” 
If you were confused, you didn’t show it, just changed direction seamlessly, making your way to the couch instead of the kitchen. You sat down, patting the cushion next to you for him to settle on and he did, rubbing his clammy palms against his thighs. 
“Is everything okay?” 
Everything was far from okay, he wanted to say. Instead he inhaled a deep breath before his next words. 
“I wanted to tell you I’m shipping out in a few weeks.” 
Your face fell a little, but you nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. What do we do? Is there anything you can tell me? Like, what’s the best way to get in touch with you, when’s the best time, that kind of stuff? Or is sending letters better? Sorry, I feel like I’m asking a lot of questions. I don’t—I’ve never really done anything like this before, so—” 
“I think we should break up.” He blurted. 
You hesitated before answering, blinking at him like you’d somehow heard him wrong. “What?” 
“It’s hard having someone overseas for a long time, even more so when it’s a partner. It was really hard on my mom, and hard for me having to watch her worry like that for months, and I—I don’t want that for you.” He said quietly, not daring to meet your eyes until he gave his poor excuse for an explanation on why he was doing the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do to you. 
The moment he’d realized he’d fallen in love with you, he’d promised himself he would never abandon you, never break your heart or your trust, and here he was, doing that exact thing. It was tearing him apart inside. 
“I don’t want you to have to go through all that, so it’s just better if we—that we break up now. Before I go.” 
“What are you doing?” 
“I’m sorry. It’s for the best.” 
“Why are you doing this?” Your voice broke just after the last word, swallowed up by a hitched inhale of a breath that had his resolve wavering just the slightest bit. He could barely look you in the eyes the whole time, and now…he didn’t think he could stand the sadness and hurt flooding every single one of your beautiful features. 
“All the worrying and the uncertainty of not knowing what’s happening, I don’t—it wouldn’t be fair to you. I care about you too much to put you through all of that.” 
You were silent for the longest time, eyes glued to the floor as you processed the information. He thought you were about to start crying with the way your brow creased, but when you finally looked back up at him, your gaze had hardened. “Did these last six months mean nothing to you? You’re just gonna throw everything away because what—you don’t think I can handle it?” 
They meant everything to me, he wanted to say. You mean everything to me. 
If he was really being honest with himself, it was him who couldn’t handle it. Still, he forged on, thinking it best to just rip off the bandaid. He could live with being the asshole if it meant sparing you from the terrible experience of him being god knows how many miles away for months. 
“I’m sorry. I wish you nothing but happiness, Y/N. You deserve better than anything I could ever give you.” 
“You wish me nothing but happiness?” You chuckled humorlessly, shaking your head. Bradley’s eyes tracked you across the room as you paced back and forth, guilt ridden expression on full display. All he wanted to do was take all of it back; to kiss you senseless and tell you everything was going to work out, but he couldn’t. He’d burned the bridge, cut the rope. Broke your heart. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world. He probably was. “Screw you, Bradley. I mean it.”
“I’m sorry.” He repeated, for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was all he could say. 
“Get the fuck out of my house.” 
“Y/N, I—” 
You rushed at him, pushing, shoving, sending him stumbling step by step towards the front door until he almost crashed into it had he not managed to pull it open a split second before you shoved him outside. He’d never forget the look of betrayal in your eyes right before you slammed the door in his face. 
Bradley forced his feet to take him back to his car, then to drive away before he could have a chance to even try and make things better. He’d most likely end up making things much, much worse. Though he didn’t think it could get any worse with the way he was feeling about himself right now. You were angry at him, and you had every right to be. 
But had he lingered at your door only moments after, he would’ve heard the thump against the wood that was you sliding down to the floor and the sob that escaped your mouth. 
All because of him. 
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Bradley was happy to finally be coming back home after ages away, but then he realized it—he didn’t have anyone to tap him out this time. His mind jumped to you first, but there was no chance in hell you’d be there for him. You’d probably moved on months ago. Forgotten about him. And with Mav away on another deployment, he really had no one. 
His chest ached the longer he stood at attention, jaw clenched tighter than he meant it to be as he watched the rest of his squad get tapped out by their loved ones. Coyote’s parents, Fanboy’s sisters, Hangman’s nieces and nephews, Phoenix’s girlfriend. They were all emotional reunions, and Bradley was happy for them, he really was. But it sucked being the one with nobody there for him. 
He wasn’t expecting the soft tap on his arm when it came. He thought it was a mistake at first; someone else’s family bumping into him accidentally, so he didn’t move. But when the hand didn’t leave its place wrapped loosely around his bicep, Bradley knew it really was for him. He turned around, squinting against the blinding sunlight to see who’d come for him. 
“Hi.” You said softly, hand dropping back down to your side. He couldn’t help but let himself take you in, eyes drinking in every single achingly familiar detail of you until you shifted nervously under his intense gaze. You looked so beautiful he almost felt dizzy, just like he remembered but at the same time somehow even better. 
“You came.” He said, disbelieving. He could still hardly believe you were actually here. 
“I promised you I would.” 
“But that—that was before…everything happened. Why are you—what’re you doing here?” The last thing he wanted to sound like was ungrateful, because he was quite literally the opposite, but his mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that despite him breaking your heart seven months ago, you still remembered what you’d promised him in the very beginning of your relationship. 
“What does it mean to tap someone out?” You asked quietly, tracing a finger along the planes of Bradley’s bare chest. Your legs were tangled under the covers, both of you still basking in the aftermath of getting reacquainted with each other again after Bradley had been out of town attending a weeklong training exercise. 
His skin was still damp with sweat, but you didn’t mind one bit, too busy exploring the expanse of muscle shifting under his bronzed skin again. “In military terms, I mean.” 
He chuckled, hiding a content smile into the hair at the crown of your head. “That’s a weird question.” 
“Humor me, Bradshaw.” 
“Yes ma’am.” Bradley stroked a rough palm down the smooth skin of your arm, taking a few beats to come up with an answer that would make sense. “Tapping out is a super long standing tradition in pretty much all military units, I think. It comes at the end of a mission, when we’ve come back to base.” 
His arm repositioned itself under your head as he scooted closer to the warmth radiating from your body, nose nuzzling deeper against you just so he could engrain the smell of your lingering fruity scented shampoo into his memory forever. 
How you still smelled so good even after your…physical activities just before this was beyond him, but he loved it. 
“An aviator’s loved ones are usually the ones to do it. Friends, family, those kinds of people. When you tap out your aviator, literally you’re releasing them from formation. But I guess it’s kind of a gesture that means…you’re home.” 
Your wandering fingers stilled against his skin, lingering right above his heart. “Can I ask you something?” 
“Go for it.” 
“Who usually taps you out?” 
Bradley remained silent. It was an innocent question, he knew that. He’d told you a little bit about his parents, and you were just curious. Still, it sent a pang of sadness through his chest whenever he thought about what it would’ve been like if they were still around today. 
He cleared his throat, sniffing once. “Usually Mav. Or sometimes one of my squad’s family. If no one can, I just gotta wait til everyone else is done.” 
“I wanna do it.”
“What?” 
“I’m gonna be there next time you come back from a mission. To tap you out.” 
“I appreciate it, honey, I do. But you don’t need to.” 
“I want to.” You said firmly, pulling away from him to prop yourself up on your elbow and look him in the eye. You looked damn serious too. He raised a quizzical brow. “You said that to tap someone out means to tell them they’re home. I want to be the one to tell you you’re home. Here. With me.” 
Bradley opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then snapped shut when no words came out. He really was at a loss for words. No one had ever done that before. Sure, Mav’s offer was always a good one to fall back on, but Bradley had never had someone he cared about as much as he did about you telling him they were going to be there for him. 
The next best thing he could think of instead of saying anything at all was to kiss you. So he did. 
He pushed himself up towards you, sliding a hand around the nape of your neck and pressing his lips against yours. Not bruisingly hard, but enough to let you know he was all in. The other hand curled around your shoulder, splaying across your back to bring you back in closer to him, until your chests were flush and you could feel his heartbeat thundering under your palm.
He was home. You were his home. 
“I told you I’d be here to tap you out, and I meant it.” You said simply, holding his gaze. “I keep my promises, Bradshaw. Even after the way you left things.” 
Red hot guilt crept its way through his chest like vines, bringing all the memories of the last time you saw each other right back up to the surface, even after how hard he’d tried to shove them all down. If there was one thing he regretted in life, it was how he left you that night. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for that one. 
“I don’t even know what to say, Y/N, I—” 
“Then let me say something.” You blurted, wringing your hands. Bradley nodded instantly, still too dumbfounded to reply. “I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to say to you today for months. I don’t even know if I should.” 
“You should.” He encouraged, nodding quickly. He’d always wanted you to be able to speak your mind with him. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear it.” 
“Okay. Okay, well first of all, you’re an asshole, Bradley.” 
He nodded again. He deserved at least that much. “I am. Absolute asshole, I know.” 
“But I never stopped loving you. Even though I was angry and sad and confused as fuck as to why you would do that to me, I still loved you. And eventually, I realized that it wasn’t anything I did wrong. You were scared. Of losing me, of me losing you. So you decided it was your responsibility to pull the ripcord before you crashed and burned.” Bradley winced slightly at the comparison and you grimaced at your own poor choice in words. “I—sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 
“It’s okay. You’re right. You didn’t deserve that.” 
“You said you didn’t want me to worry while you were gone, well, I did that anyways.” You chuckled, like you were remembering a fond memory instead of the constant state of anxiety you’d been in. “But instead of worrying that the man I love might not make it home, I was terrified that if you didn’t come home, I’d spend my whole life replaying our last conversation in my head. Wondering if there was something I could’ve said or done so you wouldn’t have given up on us so easily.” 
“You think that was easy for me? Sweetheart, walking away from you was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my whole life.” 
“Sure seemed pretty easy.” You scoffed lightly, only a tad spiteful. A low blow, you realized, when Bradley stiffened for a split second, but you held steady. 
“It wasn’t.” His reply was immediate and firm as could be, but somehow, that didn’t make you feel any better. “You have to understand, breaking things off was the last thing I wanted to do. But I couldn’t—I thought that if I didn’t, you’d wait for me.” 
“I would’ve waited, Bradley! I did wait for you! For you, I'd wait forever because I love you, but you didn’t even give me that choice. You made the decision on your own instead of talking to me about it. That was what hurt the most.”  
“I’m sorry.” Bradley said quietly, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers laced through yours almost tentatively, feeling so familiar but so foreign at the same time. There was a point in your life where you never thought that concept would apply to Bradley. “I never should’ve left like that, I wish I could take it all back.” 
“I think I understand now why you did it. I understand that fear that comes with the experience of losing a loved one like that. But Bradley, you’re not responsible for my feelings. And I don’t care how scared you get, I’m not going anywhere. From now on, we work things out together, no matter what you think is best.” 
“From now on? Does that mean…?” 
“You’re my home, Bradley Bradshaw.”
Bradley took your face in his hands and he kissed you, long and hard, pouring every ounce of pent up feelings he’d been bottling up for the past seven months into it. Pain, fear, love, hope—all of it. You were never one to believe in such emotion being able to convey itself through a simple physical action, but now you could honestly say you understood it. 
Your hands spread across the broadness of his back, fingers pressing into the crisp starch of his uniform like you were afraid of letting him go , even though he was home and everything was okay now. Losing him the first time made you angry. You didn’t even want to imagine possibly losing him a second time. 
He drew back, only far enough to press his lips to your forehead, hands still holding you close as could be. “Thank you for coming.”
“I don’t make a habit of breaking my promises.” 
“C’mon, I wanna introduce you to the squad.” He said softly, lacing his fingers through yours. The way he all but bounded over to the group of aviators a little ways away was almost boyish, as was the excitement in his voice when he approached them. “Hey everyone, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Bradley announced, sliding a hand around to the small of your back. 
Everyone’s eyes turned on you, conversations petering to a gradual stop as they looked between you and Bradley. You shifted nervously, suddenly feeling unsure with all the attention on you, but Bradley’s thumb rubbed along your skin, soothing you just a bit. “This is Y/N. My girlfriend.” 
The tall blond reacted the quickest, snapping loudly before aiming a finger in your direction, along with a shiny smile. “Wait, I know you! You’re the one in that photo Rooster keeps tucked in his helmet. Lemme tell you, he looked at that picture every damn day, it was like—” 
Bradley let out a very forced laugh, aiming a not-so-subtle daggered glare at the other man. “Okay, Hangman! That’s okay, I really don’t think—” 
“You’re a real saint, taking this one back. If I ever pulled the shit he did, my car would’ve been keyed to all hell when I came home.” Hangman chuckled, giving his head a shake. 
“Hangman. Shut. Up.” 
“Don’t tell me to shut up, you shut up!” 
“You’re the only one talking!” 
“Alright, alright, you’re both grown men here,” The dark haired woman sighed, turning towards you. “At least, I hope so.” 
You chuckled at that, casting a glance over at Bradley to find him already looking back at you, the back and forth with Hangman already long forgotten given the way he was smiling at you, like you were the force that made the world go round. Taking you in under his arm, he dotted a kiss to your hairline as your fingers came up to intertwine with his again, watching you interact with his squad like you’d known them for years. 
It was everything he ever wanted. And now that he had it, he’d never be dumb enough to let it go again. 
His mind drifted back to his parents’ fate— how they never got to live out their life together. How there was no guarantee about anything when it came to Bradley’s own fate with you.
And sure, it was scary to be so uncertain about the future, but you’d both climb that hill together when the time came. For now, Bradley could let himself be content. This second chance at a life with you wasn’t one he was planning on taking lightly, not by a long shot. 
“Let’s get off this damn carrier and hit the town! Drinks at the Hard Deck, last one there buys the first round!” Hangman’s drawling voice drew Bradley out of his thoughts, just in time to let the words sink in.
You, on the other hand, stifled a giggle at the sight of seeing a group of full grown adults scatter as fast as Bradley’s friends did. Watching Hangman nearly shove Coyote to the ground upon seeing their cars were parked next to each other was something you’d never not get a kick out of. 
But Bradley, he didn’t seem as worried about it all. In fact, he walked leisurely with your hand firmly in his, swinging both of them between the two of you as you made your way to your own car. 
“Aren’t you worried you’ll be the last one there?” 
“I’ll buy the round, I don’t care.” He shrugged. “I wanna spend some time with my girl.” 
“Your girl.” You hummed, giving his hand a squeeze. “Gotta say, I’ve missed hearing that.” 
“I’ve missed saying it. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, honey. Starting with, do you or do you not have a voodoo doll made in my image that you stabbed with pins when I was away because I broke your heart?” 
You scoffed, letting out a not so attractive snort. “Bradley, I mean this in the most respectful way possible—what the hell are you talking about? Where would you even get that idea?”
“I—uh, I had a dream about it? A few weeks into deployment.” He admitted sheepishly, cheeks burning red in embarrassment. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “You don’t, right?” 
“Don’t be ridiculous.” You replied, giving his chest a firm pat. You didn’t have a voodoo doll of him, of course, but playing along was worth it just to see Bradley squirm. 
“Wait, wait, wait, but you didn’t say no.” 
“I didn’t.” 
“So you do?” 
“I didn’t say that either. But if you’re not sure, I’d watch yourself the next couple weeks.” 
His brows furrowed in confusion and a bit of fear as he watched you walk away from him with some bounce to your step. “I…really don’t like the sound of that. Hang on, get back here. Explain, please!” 
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schoenpepper · 2 months ago
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Jade Leech and the Three Breakups
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Intro: He was going to break up with you on your first anniversary. He was going to break up with you before he went to internships. He was going to break up with you after he graduated.
Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, does jade count as a warning, reader is not yuu, established long term relationship, depression jokes, not proofread
A/N: Sorry, the brainrot got to me. College apparently cannot stop me from thinking about my least favorite character ever. Also, my favorite trope is 'i think they hate me' and 'i want them so bad i'm about to kill someone'.
Masterlist
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There's a thick notebook in one of the boxes. Curiosity killed the eel mer, sure, but Jade is attracted to its plain leather cover. On the corner is your name, etched in an elegant cursive he's sure isn't yours.
After four years of romantic partnership, of course he knows your handwriting.
He gingerly fishes it out of its pile—your pile of clutter to get rid of before moving into your new shared home—and decides that of course it is fully within his right to open your journal. Diary, perhaps?
He can't help the grin pulling up the corners of his lips.
Oh dear, you've gotten so lax with such things, darling. Are you banking on his love for you to stop him from borrowing your private thoughts? Such confidence. Misplaced. Such a shame.
The first page has his name.
It takes him aback, but he delightfully relishes in the thought, the possibility, that all your feelings for him over several years would be gathered and spilled into its yellowed pages. Was there a stage of hatred? Rivalry? Were you crushing on him like a little schoolgirl? Such cute (excellent) memories (blackmail) from your youth (material)~ He flips to the second page and reads with unparalleled attentiveness he usually reserves for documents on his favorite projects.
September 1st, 20x1 Sunny : | It's orientation, and I'm following my ma's words about keeping a diary of sorts to keep track of interesting things. I wore the cultist uniform of NRC (fugly ass robes) and stood in line to get sorted to my dorm by the mirror. I got into Octavinelle. I don't know if it's the dorm I would have chosen for myself to be honest, but sure. I can't argue with the magical artifact. What I would like to argue about is the vice housewarden.
His brows furrow slightly in intrigue. Did he do something wrong? He remembered being nothing but a kind, angelic upperclassman to your batch of freshmen.
He's so fucking pretty.
Jade chuckles.
He looks like he's about to eat me whole and fuck, I don't mind if he does!!! He's so tall, and so so attractive, and sevens I thought I came to NRC to study but I think I'm here to fulfill my destiny of becoming his <3
He launches into full-blown laughter. He takes his phone out from his pocket to snap multiple pictures, saving them in a locked folder labeled rather inconspicuously in his gallery.
There's a series of entries after that. Nothing too interesting (he's scanned every single page), just you detailing every second of your (at this point, nonexistent) love life. You write about how many times you'd seen him in a day, and how 'cute' he looks in his school uniform, and how 'adorable' he is when he's hanging onto his broom for dear life in PE. He ignores the fact that you shouldn't have seen him in PE classes because his schedule didn't match yours at that time. Then, there's one that you'd written right before realizing you'd fallen into his love trap~
October 3rd, 20x1 Cloudy :< I think I got tricked into being someone's s/o. I thought he's been inviting me to random outings and stuff, alone, together, as like, a threat maybe. Today I found out Floyd (and therefore Azul, and definitely also him) think of me as Jade's significant other. Which is so weird. I'm so confused???
There's a little chibi drawing on the corner of your face with a blank expression.
I thought we were friends and then his brother tells me that the guy I like doesn't think of me as a friend. Okay??????  JADE LEECH IS TREATING ME LIKE HIS PARTNER AND I DON'T KNOW WHEN IT HAPPENED. (but i like it :D)
Well, you've always been a bit slow, haven't you, darling? You never even noticed when Jade began to take an interest in you, slowly steering you towards his own hobbies, even his club activities. After all, he studied your interests, so isn't it only fair? He likes being able to converse with you. He likes the sound of your voice. He likes the movement of your lips. Is it so bad, then, that he did a few perfectly legal things to somehow shoe you in right by his side? 
In the diary, you detail every feeling in every date. You like picnics. You hated the hike up that mountain with poisonous snakes. You liked the parfait he made for you. You disliked the slightly poisonous mushroom he sauteed and put into your chicken alfredo. Shame.
July 23rd, 20x2 Rainy :(
It takes its first turn about a week before the first anniversary of the day you met him (you don't have a 'real' anniversary since you don't even know when you started dating him).
I think he's going to break up with me soon.
His breath hitches in his throat. He's not sure how to feel upon reading that sentence, but he doesn't like it. 
(Why were you so sure, darling?)
He leans back slightly on his chair. He needs to take a few deep breaths before he can even continue to read your writing.
He's going to be in third year by the time the school year comes around again. He'll be busy with the lounge and studying and vice housewarden stuff. Maybe he won't have time for me anymore.
But that's okay.
I realized something. The twins are not the type of people for long term relationships. After knowing more about Jade, I've learned he's not too different from Floyd concerning several aspects. 1.) He only likes interesting things. Jade likes weird, and fun, and spontaneous. I think he liked me then because I was new and so strange. After all, I didn't know that the guy I loved at first sight was such a feared figure, for good reason too. There was nobody in school who would stick around him so much like I do. 2.) He gets bored just as easily. Jade is the mirror image of Floyd here. Floyd is more moody, but Jade is good at pretending. He likes to play around. Until he doesn't. I know I won't see it coming, but one day, I will be predictable. And he'll get bored. I will no longer be interesting.
Has he always struck you that way?
If he doesn't want to play with me anymore, what am I supposed to do? I need to prepare myself. Someday, he'll leave me, and I need to be stronger then than I am now. Right now, I'll break if he abandons me. Surely if I desensitize myself to the scenario, I can mitigate the damage.
You talk of your own heart like a building in the middle of the Ring of Fire, and Jade's the biggest earthquake that's about to arrive since millennia.
It's not often he finds himself questioning his own morality. Gray is his preference, but then, why does he see this version of himself in your eyes in all black? Has he been anything but kind to you? He's tried, really. If it wasn't enough, he should've seen it in your eyes. He should have known.
The following pages go back to their previous light-hearted tone, slowly leaving the saccharine sweet honeymoon phase and dipping into comfortable and warm. You don't mention that entry again, or even that line of thought. He likes that. Jade would prefer you refusing to humor such blatant nonsense than actually spend time worrying your pretty little head about it. It's just a bit worrying. Like a volcano with lava filling up, is it not dangerous to block the outflow?
Why have you never discussed your thoughts with him?
August 3rd, 20x3 Sunny :<
He has to consider that it might be seasonal depression if the entries keep getting darker around the same time. Like a switch has been flipped, the words turn into blades again, cutting into his skin as though they could never draw blood.
I think he's really going to break up with me soon.
Oh sevens.
He has internships, which means he won't even be at school most of the time. It's upsetting because I think he'll find so many people out there. And they'll be much more interesting than me. And then what? I don't know where he's interning, it's probably because he doesn't want me to be a part of his life any longer.
How did he never know how prone you were to overthinking?
He hasn't gotten bored of me yet, but that's not to say it won't happen when he gets a taste of the real world and realizes how limited he is by this place. By me. Am I holding him back? I never say anything to him about these kinds of feelings because it might burden him. Which is a really funny sentence to write considering this is Jade Leech I'm talking about. It's not like he cares about other people's opinions enough for it to be a burden to him.
Why then, Jade wonders, would you ever consider yourself as 'other people'?
I hope he lets me down gently, at least.
Why would he ever let you down at all?
It's a shame to say but I think I love him.
And again, like nothing ever happened at all, the following recorded dates speak nothing of your plight. Instead, you jot down your visits to Jade in his chosen workplace, since obviously, he'd given you the details despite your previous doubts. The records of your life when not with him are few and far between, as you usually opted to write about Jade when together with him. There's an entry about the time you went to the amusement park with him, and threw up all over his jacket. There's one about the cake you failed horribly at baking during his birthday.
There's an entry about the first time you explored intimacy with him.
So it gives him severe whiplash when the entry after that is back to the same 'break up' tone as before, right around the same time as the other two.
(He should call a therapist for you.)
August 1st, 20x4 Sunny >:( He will definitely break up with me soon!
Why is this one so enthusiastic about it, though?
Maybe it's been in his plans all along. Only until graduation! This time, he'll definitely, definitely break up with me. Yes! I mean, I shouldn't be happy about it, but my two predictions beforehand were incorrect, and it makes me very nervous. So I have a plan. On his graduation, I'm going to give him a bouquet of flowers and a terrarium that I personally made.
Yes he remembers that. He still has the terrarium in his collection room.
And then, I'm going to confess my love for him.
Yes he remembers that too. You said 'I love you', and though slightly taken aback, he returned your sentiments.
And it would be the perfect gateway for him to talk about breaking up with me.
Huh. That's definitely not what he thought of it then. Is that why you were so surprised when he said 'I love you too'?
And it would probably hurt, but I think I can get away with not crying in front of him. I really love him. But I think it would be for the best that he leaves now, when I can still let him go with grace. Someday, I'll be in love with him, maybe to the point that I'd break down at his feet and beg for him to pick up the pieces. But I don't want him to see me like that.
He doesn't want to see that either.
(But rest assured, should it happen, he will pick up every piece of you and glue it back together with his love. Rather cheesy, though.)
Wish me luck!!!
Jade's lips curl up into a lazy grin, flipping to the last page on the notebook. There's not much, but he reads through it with a soft chuckle and writes in the corner with a blue pen. "Jade! The moving company will be here soon," you pop your head through the doorway, only glancing at him briefly before walking away, "I'm almost done with the kitchen."
He places your diary into his box of 'to keep', sealing the cardboard shut with some tape.
August 2, 20x4 Cloudy :o He said he loves me too. I could be wrong, but I think Jade's never going to break up with me.
June 16, 20x5 Sunny :) Let's get married soon, darling. I'm looking forward to the rest of our life together.
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prodagustd · 3 months ago
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the road not taken 04 | myg
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part four: a wish
Summary: Were you about to go crazy if you started to consider that Yoongi felt something for you?
<part three | part five>
—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc
—rating: +18
—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)
—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, FLUFF ❤️‍🩹, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! mentions of sex 👀Btw english is not my first language!
—words: 9.6k
—a/note: hiiii friends!!! i'm glad to say that it didn't take me six months to post this :D. I genuinely went through the most stressful two months of my life so I'm really proud that I could finish this chapter while trying to survive this thing called being an adult!! Anywayy, I’m excited for this chapter but I’m MORE EXCITED FOR THE NEXT ONE… 👀 so please have patience with this story!!! I promise it’s worth it hehehe. As always, you are more than invited to discuss this chapter in the asks, feedback is always welcomed <3 this one is very fluffy i hope you enjoy ittt. (Also if you read a typo, no you didn’t)
series masterlist | teaser | playlist
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Four years ago
Seven days before New Year’s Eve
Were you too naive to still believe your father when he said that you were granted a wish every Christmas? He used to say that every year when he was still around and you were still a kid, when the clock struck twelve you could wish anything you wanted, as long as it wasn’t something material or more presents, you had to wish for something special, something that made you happy. 
The last Christmas before your father passed away you were seven years old and still believed in Santa Claus. That year, for some reason, your wish slipped your mind, you forgot about it completely. You stayed at your house, watched movies the whole day in your pajamas and at midnight your parents let both you and Simon open only one present before sending you to bed. You remembered how your father chased you to the stairs to tickle you until you cried of laughter and how good the cookies your mother made that night were, perhaps that year you were too happy to remember making a wish, perhaps what you had was enough. When you woke up the next morning, you were sad that you had wasted it, but your father, wise as ever, told you not to worry. He said that it was like you were saving your wish for the next year — maybe then it would be stronger, and maybe, since you waited, you would have a better chance of it coming true.
By the time Christmas came the following year your father was already gone, and with him all the magic of the world. You had to grow up, you stopped making wishes and tried to stop believing in stories, but it was difficult when his words were still at the back of your mind like some sort of tradition every holiday season. Despite knowing that magic didn’t exist and perhaps not a single wish of yours had ever come true, you still couldn't help but believe you still had your last wish, and everytime the idea of finally making it crossed your mind, you stopped to tell yourself you could still wait another year, just to be sure. 
That morning you saw Yoongi leaned over his car, adjusting his cap as he saw you walking over to him and you thought about your saved wish for the first time this year. And then again when he grabbed your hand to drag you out of the room, or when he waited for you at the bottom of the stairs before leaving the house, but you wouldn’t admit it, not even to yourself. 
He dragged you all across your grandmother’s hometown as if you didn’t know it like the palm of your hand, as if the streets weren’t filled with kids running and whole families doing last-minute gift shopping, but he didn’t seem to care, so for once, you didn’t let it annoy you either. You observed the happy families and the kids playing in the snow, and sat in the park for as long as the cold weather allowed.
It was like you entered a trance, you tried to fight the urge to snap out of the moment and talked and talked the whole afternoon about everything and nothing at the same time, Yoongi listened and laughed while playing with the ends of your hair, pushing you closer to the edge of illusion. If you weren’t so adamant to stay in that blurry haze, you would’ve done something to stop him, you would’ve push his hand away when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, you would’ve hated how easy it was for him to play dumb, how natural it was to touch you without feeling something was wrong. You ignored it instead, you ignored him and his wandering hands and the fact that he didn’t dare to mention the moment you shared in the closet, nor the way your noses brushed together, or how his fingers hugged your waist as if you weren’t just friends. Even if you would’ve died for him to say a word about it, to tease you, to attempt to make fun of you just to know that what happened was real and not something you dreamt last night.
If you were really dreaming, you held on to your sleep for a while. When Yoongi found that secondhand bookstore five blocks away from the park, he grabbed your hand when you ran across the street before the traffic lights turned green and stayed inside wandering the aisles with him, you let him lean over to whisper jokes in your ear and you punched his arms when he made you laugh a little bit too loud. You tried to keep your voices low and made a list of books to read the following year. You didn’t buy any of them but you read the prologues and the author’s biographies like it was the most interesting thing in the world. You waited for Yoongi when he started to talk with an old man about a book he needed for college and, when he felt you drifting away, he hooked one of his fingers on the belt loop of your jeans and pulled you close to him again. You felt his hands on your waist, keeping you pressed against the side of your body while he pretended to be focused on the conversation, but he was focused on something else. His long fingers played with the waistband of your jeans as your chest felt tight and your breath felt heavier. Maybe you were beginning to go insane, maybe you had a fever and everything was just a product of your imagination, but a tiny voice inside your head quietly suggested that maybe this time you weren’t insane, maybe it was just him.
It was getting dark outside, and you were supposed to be home anytime soon, but he turned his head to you and whispered in your ear that you should save a seat at the coffee shop next door and wait for him while he paid for the book. Even if it was cold and snowing neither of you wanted to return home yet, so you agreed. You made your way to the cute little coffee shop adorned with Christmas lights and sat on a table to wait for him to arrive at the table, until you saw him entering the shop with a book wrapped in brown wrapping paper in his hands. 
You observed him approaching with your face on the palms of your hands, you watched his eyes scanning the place until they found you in some poor illuminated corner. He smiled, his eyes never left yours as he made his way to your table, and when he sat in front of you, he slid the book towards you. 
“This is for you.” He simply said, crossing his arms over his chest like it was no big deal. 
You frowned, confused. Did Yoongi get you some lawyer book? You didn’t know, you grabbed the wrapped book in your hands and scanned it as if you were able to see through the envelope. “The book you needed for college?”
“It’s not that.” He huffed. “It’s a present.” 
You tried to bite back a smile, but you failed. “Is this your way to tell me you forgot to buy me a Christmas present?” You joked, making him roll his eyes. 
“C’mon, you know me.” He said “I would never give you a Christmas present before Christmas, are you crazy?”
You laughed “So is this not a Christmas present?” You inquired, teasing him. 
“It is a Christmas present, but not the Christmas present that I got for you.” He tried to clarify, and it sounded confusing but you understood him anyway. 
You nodded, tearing the wrapping paper to reveal that Yoongi just bought you an Anne Sexton poetry book, the title “Love Poems” shinned in red on the cover, making you hold your breath for a second. 
You raised your gaze from the book to find his eyes, which were looking at you expectantly, the same way someone looked at the moon, yearning. The same way you were looking at him. 
“How did you know…?” The question died in your lips.
“I just know.” He cheekily said, and that was enough.
You know me, he said, and you felt your heart aching when you realized that Yoongi knew you too, and it was becoming impossible to escape from it.
You spent these past weeks trying to make it disappear, but there it was again, that strange feeling you felt in your chest, like something tugged from a string tied to your heart to try and steal it away. You were sure Yoongi thought he had his ways with you, that he was some kind of genius that knew exactly what to say and what to do to erase the frown from your face and make you laugh, but the truth was that he didn’t need to do much effort to win you over, the truth was that he already had you. He had you then, and he had you now and you weren’t sure if that was ever going to change, but today you didn’t care, you let him walk you home as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders like that warm wouldn’t chill you to the bone when he left. 
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You had successfully gone through dinner without having to answer questions about college, or your future, or anything about yourself at all, part of it was because your grandmother didn’t ask any questions to begin with. Maybe you were a bit jealous that she seemed more interested in Eva, your cousin, who was a biochemist and just got engaged, or Aidan, your other cousin, who was just admitted into college, or even Yoongi, who was about to graduate, however, you felt relieved that the attention was not focused on you. You were used to your family thinking that you were a thirteen year old teenager and not a twenty one year adult, the attention was never really on you, sometimes it bounced on you accidentally like a ball and, from time to time, you got to share a glimpse of information about your life, but most of the time your mother answered for you as if you were a kid in the hospital room, trying to include you in conversations and talking about your own projects, and that was enough for everyone. 
In the past, your mother had sat you down several times to explain that your grandmother was never an easy woman, she reassured you that her judgmental behavior was a reflection of herself, not of you. She always offered to let you stay at home if you wanted to, but you refused only for the rest of the family, you could stand being with your grandmother if that meant being with the rest of them. And you learnt to endure it all: your grandmother’s judging look, all the talking about your cousin’s achievements, their goals, projects, flawless record, and the fact that everyone seemed to be finding their paths except for you. You had to learn to pretend you were happy for them and not jealous, you took several breaths and moved on, and for a while you thought that after two decades of your life you had finally mastered the art in not giving a fuck about what your family thought about you, until today when you ran to hide in the closet so they wouldn’t find you. 
You had to work on that, you knew that, but at least for now the blatant disinterest for your life spared you from having to explain your life crisis, at least Yoongi was by your side, redirecting attention to him and the real question everyone wanted to ask but no one dared, a question that eclipsed any other topic of conversation: what was happening between the two of you? 
You looked at him next to you, charming as ever, talking with your uncle across the table. He decided to put on his glasses, his cheeks were pink and the sleeves of his blue sweater were rolled up to his elbows, his arm was casually resting on the top rail of your chair and every time he made a joke he looked at you to check if you were laughing. Every attempt he made to try to make you part of the conversation made your heart swell, but you were more than happy just observing him blending into your family as if he were part of it; you wanted to be as clueless as everyone on the table and believe that Yoongi could be sitting next year at this very same table to be there for you, for a moment you allowed yourself to dream of a reality where he saved you from every family gathering like he was doing tonight.
From the tip of your nose to the tip of your toes you felt warm, almost as if you had a fever. It was probably because you were still wearing your black sweater inside the house or because the memory of the book Yoongi gave you kept your cheeks burning red, or maybe because when dinner was over and your family lingered over the table for the longest time they could, you saw Yoongi tilting his head towards the stairs, meaning it was time to go to bed. 
There was a couple differences between this weekend and the night Yoongi slept with you after coming back from The Alley, that night you wouldn’t have ask him to stay over if you were sober, and he most likely wouldn’t have stay if he wasn’t high, tonight you had to share the room, but it was impossible for you not to be dramatic and always make big deals out of small things. Unlike you, Yoongi didn’t flinch when you told him you were going to sleep in the same room, you failed to remember that you were the one who had a decade-long crush on him and not the other way around.
Now the house was quiet and everyone was scattered around the floors, your cousins were in the living room with your uncle, your grandmother was already in bed, your mom was in the kitchen washing the dishes and Yoongi was upstairs, waiting for you. Before going with him, you changed into your pajamas and went to the kitchen to steal a few cookies that your mother cooked for tomorrow morning. You could wait a few hours more to eat the cookies, but you were desperately trying to look for an excuse to prolong the moment you entered the room you were sharing with the man upstairs. 
You entered the kitchen, making your mother turn around from the sink to take a quick look at you before coming back to the dishes. “Are you already going to sleep?” She asked, a curious tone on her voice. 
“Yeah, but I wanted to grab a few cookies first, is that okay?” You inquired, already opening the cabinet above her head to grab a big plate.
“Just a few, remember they’re for everyone.” She warned, and you hummed in response, knowing that you were going to grab more than just a few. 
The room fell silent for a moment, you heard the water running and your dragging feet making their way to the cookies on the counter before she raised her voice again. “Are they for you and Yoongi?” 
You hummed again “Yes, just a few, I promise.” You said, grabbing what it seemed to be a whole batch of cookies to put on the plate. 
You tried to be quick, putting an extra cookie for the road between your teeth and turning around to escape from your mother before she could see you and scold you for stealing way too many cookies. Trying not to make any noise, as if that could make you invisible, you made your way towards the door to escape, but when you thought you were about to succeed, you heard the nickname your mom used for you from the corner of the room, stopping you in your tracks. 
“Wait, darling.” You heard her tone of voice, surprised that it wasn’t annoyed, but rather motherly. 
You turned around slowly with your guard up, as if in that way she wouldn’t notice the cookie between your teeth. You took it out of your mouth, hiding it behind your back.
“Yes?” You answered, remaining calm. You would not give yourself away when you already made this far. 
She closed the faucet, turning around to face you. Her eyes fell upon you, offering you an apologetic smile, which was weird, it was the kind of smile she gave you when she knew she was about to upset you. It wasn’t the kind of face someone who was about to scold you would make, she looked hesitant, almost worried. 
“I wanted to-... I mean, I wanted to ask you about something.” She said, stumbling with her own words. Her eyes were not focused on the plate on your hands, not even in your face completely, like she was trying to avoid your eyes. You felt a rush of nervousness running down your body and quickly dissipating, you didn’t know why. 
“About what?” You inquired, wiping the crumbs from your mouth. 
She sighed, playing with the towel in her hands to keep her hands busy. “I know you don’t want me to be all over your business, and I’m aware you are not a teenager anymore, but I can’t help worrying a little bit.” She explained, or at least she tried.
You frowned, more confused than ever. The conversation seemed to be taking a completely different path than you thought five seconds ago. 
“What do you mean, mom?” You said, taking a step forward, what did this have to do with the cookies?
Your mom pursed her lips, hesitating for a microsecond until the words finally came out of her mouth. “You are already a woman, darling, so I wanted to know if you are… cautious.” She pronounced, making emphasis on the last word and letting it sink in the air, but you still didn’t understand what she was talking about. 
“Cautious with what?” You must've looked like a total fool, asking once again what she meant, but your mother seemed to want you to understand without having to explain. 
She shifted in her place and you saw a flash of embarrassment in her eyes, but it quickly disappeared. “With Yoongi, I mean.” She said, making the name resonate in your ears “I know you’re both adults and you can do whatever you want, but I wanted to make sure that you are using protection.”
The realization fell upon you like a ton of bricks, each word she uttered felt like a different punch to your stomach. You opened your eyes widely, almost choking with your own spit.  “What? No, mom-” You wanted to interrupt her, but she was quick to talk over you. 
“I just want to make sure!” She said like she was apologizing “I don’t mean to be invasive, but it’s important to me that you’re being safe.”
You winced, feeling your face burning as you began stuttering “Me and Yoongi…-We are not, I mean-”
“Honey,” She stopped you, looking at you like she was a sex education teacher trying to explain why you should use protection. “I was not born yesterday, I see things happening, and believe me, I have no problem with you sharing a room, but I can’t help but ask.”
You were left completely speechless, and her constant interruptions while you were trying to finish a sentence were not helping. You racked your brain to find a logical explanation, but you were incapable of forming a decent sentence when she was looking at you like she was a doctor. The fact that your mother thought that you and Yoongi were having sex made your stomach squirm, and how she stated that it was obvious left your head spinning. Did she see you today in that closet and immediately assumed you were… fucking? God, that sounded so bad, so incredibly embarrassing. You still felt yourself blushing when you thought about that moment, you couldn’t even fathom the idea of seeing him without a shirt, less alone having sex with him.
“Mom, please. You don’t have to worry, really.” You tried to explain, but that was not enough to leave your mother content, by the look on her face you knew she didn’t believe you one bit. 
“I know I don’t have to worry!” She defended herself “Yoongi is a great boy, and I trust you… But you know, if things get a bit too frisky...” 
You closed your eyes shut, trying not to picture that in your mind, “God, mom, don’t use that word!” 
“Sorry! I mean… You know what I mean! I hope you’re using protection, no matter the circumstances.” 
You took a deep breath, ninety percent sure you were about to die of embarrassment, but with your last breath you made sure to be clear with your mom so tonight she would sleep peacefully “Believe me, mom. You don’t have to worry, nothing happened between Yoongi and me, I mean it.”
You could see it in her eyes, she was not convinced, and she was right to be so. That was a lie, and she knew it. What happened today was not “nothing”, and your mother knowing that only made your cheeks burn.
“Fine.” She said, struggling to let the conversation go “But if something does happen… Be safe, okay?”
You nodded repeatedly, trying to end the conversation as soon as possible. “Yes, of course.” You promised, but the idea of that ever happening sent a chill down your spine, you tried to shake that thought as far away as you possibly could. 
Your mom smiled and you took it as your cue to go. You tried to walk away, but before you reached the door, she spoke again. 
“And darling?” She said, making you turn around to see her. “I know you don’t like coming here without your brother, so thank you for coming anyway.”
“It’s fine, mom.” You said, and it was true. “At least Yoongi made up for it.”
She smirked, suppressing a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure.”
You rolled your eyes, in disbelief. “Yup, I’m going now, goodnight!” You said, finally escaping from the conversation. You heard your mom’s laugh in the distance as you closed the door behind you to run upstairs. 
Present
When you visited Simon’s apartment for the first time you could clearly notice it was a boy’s apartment from the lack of decoration, the lack of food in the fridge and the amount of boxes still unpacked weeks after moving in, but after you entered through the door tonight you saw a completely different version of it. It was a part of him that you missed out when you were gone, now there were plants on the living room and traces of Florence all over the place, like her purple slippers on the door and the purple toothbrush on the bathroom, her scrunchies on the entryway table and the framed picture of her beside them. You found it endearing, it was like a secret world made just for the two of them, a proper home. 
“When is Florence coming back?” You asked, leaving your bag on the couch. 
Simon took off his shoes, wandering through his house as he turned all the lights on “On Monday.” He replied.
You made a mental note to leave on Monday, even if Simon repeated a thousand times that it was okay for you to stay there on the way here, you didn’t want to intrude in his life. Instead you decided it would be easier to intrude in Minnie’s life, who’s apartment was big enough for the two of you, the only person she shared her apartment with was not an actual person, it was just her orange cat. 
 “I was supposed to go with her.” Your brother kept talking “But me and Yoongi are behind on some work and I had to stay… Well, I’m the one who’s behind, really. Yoongi is just helping me.”
You did not forget that Simon and Yoongi worked together at the same law firm downtown ever since they graduated. You knew that Yoongi got the job as soon as he graduated and then he was followed by your brother, after years it was still impossible to keep them apart, which had become a problem for you. 
You nodded but didn’t say anything about it, you reasoned that Yoongi was still working before arriving at your house, that explained the clothes, the shoes and the messy hair. You sighed just by thinking about it, at least dinner was over, at least your first encounter with Yoongi after four years wasn’t the worst thing that happened tonight. 
It was impossible, but you tried not to think about it too much. Yoongi’s presence was some kind of collateral effect that came with your life, it was too late to detach him from it, but you still tried to run away from it for years and years, only to come back and still find him here, talking to you like nothing ever happened, like you were still friends. 
Yoongi and you were always on different stages of your life, on different places, on different paths, but you seemed to agree on one thing: keep everything secret, no one needed to know what happened between the two of you, that was why Simon was always talking about Yoongi when you called him, that was why he couldn’t stop talking about it him now, he didn’t realize that you didn’t want to know anything about his best friend, you could never told him why.
You followed your brother to his guest room as he talked and talked about how smart Yoongi was and how he was capable of taking so many different cases and not dying in the process, how nice it was to work with his best friend and blablabla. You swore that if you heard the name one more time you would explode, so you decided to drastically change the subject of the conversation, you were willing to say anything to take his name out of your brother’s mouth. It took a second, but when the room fell silent, you looked at your feet, a bit unsure, gathering enough courage to finally say what you’ve been meaning to tell him since you arrived home.
“I’m sorry for not telling you about the proposal.” You softly spoke, and Simon, who was looking for a blanket in the closet in the corner of the room, turned his head to look at you. “I wanted to tell you in person, but I wasn’t planning for that article to come out, I didn’t want the whole world to know.”
Simon left the blanket on the bed, turning his body to look at you more clearly. “Mom told me that you think Ian leaked the news” He mentioned, and you nodded, at the risk of looking crazy. 
“Sally suggested it.” You confirmed, sitting on the bed “And if he didn’t, he’s fine with it anyway. He doesn’t care if people see me as this bitch who broke his heart, I might as well be.” 
He looked at the wall behind you, confused. “I think I missed a chapter here.” He said, sitting on the edge of the bed “Maybe more than one. Weren’t you in love with him?”
You wanted to grab a pillow, bury your face on it and scream as loud as you could, but for the sake of looking like a sane person you contained yourself. “I thought I was.” You said sincerely. you believed there was a time when you were sure you were in love with Ian, there were moments you thought that the good things about him could outweigh the bad things, but deep down you knew that if you were really in love you wouldn’t have to do all that math, you wouldn’t have to fight to ignore his arrogance and his big ego. 
“And when did you realize that you weren’t?” He continued to ask “Or when did you realize he was a jerk?”
You scoffed, bitterly. “I guess I always knew both, I tried to make it work regardless. I enjoyed being with him for some time, but then he planned an engagement party full of people I didn’t even know. He didn’t care to call any of you and expected me to say yes… Does that say more about him or me?”
He kept quiet, not knowing what to say, but you already knew the answer. 
“Ian was an asshole, kid. He was jealous of you, of your family, of your job, none of us understood why you were with him.” 
“That was not what I asked.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Ian was a prick, I get it, but I wasn’t much better either.”
“You can’t make me think you deserve each other, are you kidding?” He said. 
“I can’t blame him for everything, I made my own bed.” You huffed “I was terrible and it took me almost four years to snap out of it, that was not his fault.” 
“You are right, but you’re here now, aren’t you?” He reminded you, calmly. “Isn’t that what’s important?” 
You began to become exasperated “C’mon, Simon, don’t try to be nice, you’re supposed to be mad at me.” 
“I am mad at you.” He corrected you, sending a chill down your spine “You’re working all the time, you never call, never text back, we barely see you and the only way to know about your life is when we read some article saying you broke up with your boyfriend because he proposed to you, are you kidding? Of course I am mad, but because I miss you.”
You felt a wave of regret hitting all your senses, suddenly your eyes were burning with tears and you are not supposed to cry, you knew that, but the single tear that slid down your cheek was quicker than any thought that could cross your mind. Somehow, you wished your family hadn't noticed how absent you'd been these past few years, that they just shrugged and said “that’s just her” and forgot about it, it was not necessary to look at Simon’s face to know that he couldn’t just forget about it. He loved you, your mother loved you too, you didn’t have a family that you would want to run away from, but you did it anyway,
“I’m sorry…” You murmured, looking at him with eyes full of regret. “It wasn’t you, it wasn’t any of you, it was me. I was so angry when I left, I didn’t know how to handle it.”
You wouldn’t trade your career for anything, it was one of those few things that made you happy, but after years of trying to convince yourself that every decision you made for the last few years was the right choice, this was the first time that you admitted that maybe you weren’t thinking clearly when you decided to move to the city and never look back. 
Simon frowned, thinking about it twice before asking “Were you angry, bug?”
You tilted your head, giving him a sad smile, hoping that it could explain everything.”I was quite angry, yes.” You answered “Not at you, though.” 
“At mom?” 
“Maybe a little bit at mom, yeah.” You laughed, shaking your head. You sighed deeply, letting the silence sit in the room for a moment before you could put in order all the things you wanted to say. “I remember when I told her I left college she looked at me like I finally lost my mind, it was like she saw it coming, you know? Me, again, being lost, it was not a surprise, but rather something she would expect of me. I know she was just worried and I know I can be a lot sometimes, but it hurt anyway. I don't blame anyone, Simon, but all I needed was someone to believe in me and no one did. I had to leave.” Something ached inside your chest because that was not the whole truth, but it was all you could say tonight, you couldn’t say that Yoongi was also one of the reasons. “I’m not trying to justify myself.” You mumbled “I’m just saying that I was so angry that I didn’t realize how many mistakes I made.” 
The silence that took over the room was so strong it made your stomach squirm. You shifted in your place, but Simon stayed there, with his gaze lost somewhere in the room as he processed what you just said. 
“I always believed in you, you know that?” He spoke, causing your head to snap up towards him. “I know a lot of people tried to tell you that you weren’t, but you’ve always been special and I’ve always seen it.” 
“I know you did.” You sighed. “But I was being so stubborn, I walked away and I’m so sorry.”
“I know you think you’re too much, but you’re not.” He continued talking “Maybe mom just wanted everything to be simple, for her kids to go to college, graduate, get a job and a home and never have to worry about whether they are choosing right or wrong ever again. But you’re not simple, bug, you’re extraordinary and talented and too brilliant to stay still, but you’re not too much, not for me.” 
You held back a sob, feeling ridiculous. “I’m sorry.” You said, once again, because you haven’t said it enough times.
“It’s okay now, I mean it.” Simon reached for your hand to squeeze it tightly. 
You sniffed “God, I should be comforting you for being a bad sister, not the other way around” 
“I don’t need to be comforted, I’m okay as long as you’re here.” He tried to cheer you up. “And you were not a bad sister, you were sad and acted shitty.” 
You smiled, because you told Simon that you were angry but instead he heard that you were sad, you didn’t feel like correcting him because he wasn’t so wrong about that. 
“I’m sorry.” You repeated once again like a scratched record, making him laugh. “Are you still mad at me?”
“No.” he replied, “But only if you promise not to disappear again.” 
You raised your hand, extending your pinky finger in front of his face. “I promise you, Simon, I will not disappear again.”
Simon tangled his pinky with yours, making your promise impossible to be broken, and your soul felt at ease for a moment.
“Fine, good enough for me.” he said, throwing himself back onto the bed. “Now I want to hear everything about the proposal, and I want you to describe to me exactly the face he made when you said no.”
You laughed, throwing yourself on the bed the same way he did and tried to summarize the last three years in just one night. Only for today, your body did you a favor and your head stopped spinning at least for now. Something began to feel right.
Four years ago
Seven days before New Year’s Eve
You could hear the radio at the end of the hallway in your grandmother’s room, softly playing jazz to cancel out the outside noise. Not everyone in the house liked the radio, your cousins always said that it was annoying and kept them awake, but it was still one of those old habits of your grandfather that remained in the house even if he was no longer here, so you liked it. The music inevitably seeped under the door of your room, Yoongi hummed some Frank Sinatra song as if he knew the lyrics to it, making you laugh and beg him to stop. 
You know it’s almost midnight, as your roommate just informed you, but you didn’t want to turn the lights off yet. All of the cookies already disappeared from the plate, Yoongi was laying on his side the same way you were and the lamp on the nightstand warmly lighted up his brown eyes, you couldn’t help but feel you were not supposed to be in such presence, his messy hair and the loose white shirt he wore to sleep, his sleepy eyes, his pink lips; it looked just like the kind of view that was bound to haunt you forever. 
The nightstand that separated you was not far enough to stop that pull from the string in your chest, not when he was looking at you like that, his gaze fixated on yours like he didn’t want to leave you awake alone, and neither did you. You felt yourself shaking because, what was the version of you that existed when you were asleep? And what happened inside his head when you were not there? What was happening inside his head right now?
Did you cross his mind the same way he crossed yours? When you finally fell asleep, would he remember that moment in the closet or would it be just water under the bridge? Did he spend every waking second of the last seven hours thinking of that fleeting moment when you could almost feel his lips on yours?
Or was that just you?
The night was fading away, your eyelids were getting heavy but you still couldn’t find the will to sleep. 
“I’m sorry for today.” You almost whispered, gathering enough courage to mention the little accident “I’m sorry for dragging you with me to the closet.”  
He smiled softly, closing his eyes for a second. “It’s okay, it was cozy.” He teased you, making you groan in annoyance. He laughed loudly at your reaction, annoying you even more. “I’m serious, it was okay.” 
“Was it really?” You asked him “Wasn’t I being silly?”
“It's okay being silly sometimes.” He assured you, but that did not ease that anxious feeling in your stomach. He seemed to see it in your face. “What’s wrong with being a little silly? I would’ve run from your grandmother, too.” 
You bitterly laughed, covering your face with the palms of your hands “Stop, I’m being immature.” You groaned “I’ve got to get my shit together.”
“C’mon Pinky, you have to stop with that.” He said. 
“I would if I could.” You remarked.
“Didn’t you say you were going to get your shit together after the holidays?” He reminded you “Why are you worrying right now?”
Yoongi was right, that was the initial plan, but ever since you came back home everything was pointing in different directions and it was beginning to drive you crazy, it was like the universe was forcing you to think about it, it was not letting you run away from it, not even temporarily. First, it was Yoongi, showing up every few days at your doorstep, grabbing your hand, squeezing your legs, whispering things in your ear like he wanted you to go insane, it was Minnie, offering you a job, talking about The Alley, saying you were supposed to be on the big screen, and then it was your mother, expecting you to make up your mind once for all. And still, you had your whole life ahead, why were you worrying right now?
“I don’t know…” You sighed “What if I come back next year and the plan was not good enough? What if I end up hiding again from everyone?”
Yoongi shifted in bed, curious “Do you have a plan, Pinky?” The nickname rolled off his tongue softly, you swimmed in the tenderness of his voice, something about it made you want to tell him everything.
“Not really, I mean… It all sounds so bad.” 
“You have a plan.” He affirmed, smiling “I want to hear it.”
“It’s not a plan.” You contradicted yourself “If it were a plan, it would suck.”
Yoongi hummed “It’s something like a plan, then.”
You scrunched your nose, unsure. “Yeah, but not quite like a plan, something like a…” You said, but the words died on your lips before you got the chance to finish. 
“Something like a dream, then?” He continued to ask, but you shook your head.
“Something close.” You expressed, unable to find the right words to explain your thoughts. You stayed silent for a second, believing he was beginning to lose interest in the topic, until the words slipped past his lips like a spell.
“Something like a wish.” He pronounced, and he was not asking, it was almost like he knew. 
You thought there was not much difference between a dream and a wish, but in this case, there was. 
You smiled at him, nodding, somehow you felt you could trust him with all your secrets “Yes, like a wish.” You affirmed, and it felt like a confession. “I don’t know Yoongi, have you ever stayed up late and planned something but when you woke up next morning you felt it was stupid? Well, I do that every night.”
“I’m sure that whatever it is, it’s not stupid.” He said, making your heart swell.  
“I would like to believe you…” You murmured “Do you have a dream, Yoongi? Something you’re too scared to wish for?”
You could see him think about it for a moment, but his eyes were still connected with yours. Oh, how you wished to be inside his mind right now, read his thoughts, witness his dreams, know all his secrets.
“Yes.” He confirmed, “But I can’t talk about them out loud right now.” 
You laughed, biting your bottom lip. “Okay, fair. What about those you can say out loud?”
“I’m not going to tell you because you’re going to laugh.” He pouted, making you frown. 
“Laugh?” You repeated, sounding more offended than you actually were. “I would never, c’mon.”
He raised an eyebrow, testing you “You sure?”
“Of course, don’t piss me off.” 
“Fine, fine.” He let out a long sigh, believing you. “My wish would be… to stop time for a while. Sometimes I believe I can’t think when time’s running, all I do is study and come home to my mom, there is very little time that I have for myself.”  
You felt your chest tighten, but it didn't surprise you that Yoongi felt this way. He already mentioned to you that, even if taking care of his mother didn’t feel like a burden, he still felt he was missing out on so many things. 
“And what would you do if time stopped right now?” 
Yoongi shifted his eyes for a moment, and you almost missed it but you saw it, the urge to hold back and the words getting stuck on his throat. 
“Mmm…” He hummed, “I’ll go to the beach.”
“In winter?”
“Yes, I wouldn’t care.”
“And where else?” You continued to ask.
“Honestly? I’ll go anywhere but home.” He confessed.
“What’s wrong with home?” You of all people knew exactly what was wrong with home, but you wanted to hear why he thought that. 
“Home it’s okay,” He waved off. “It just feels like I spent my whole life there. I went to college expecting something to change, and a lot of things did but I still feel like something else is supposed to happen, like there's something else for me to see.” 
It was looking in a mirror, it was the same thing you’ve told him a few days ago but in other words, in another tone. Yoongi sounded resigned, like his wish was clearly something that was not meant to happen and he needed to come to terms with it, nothing could ever make you more sad. 
“There’s plenty for you to see, Yoongi, are you kidding?” You chuckled  “You’re twenty five, you’re barely grasping life.” 
He scoffed, bitterly, “It’s not that easy.” 
“Of course it is easy, do you know it’s not necessary to stop time to go to the beach?” 
“I know, Pinky.” He agreed, “But what does it feel like running away?” 
“Running away would be so bad?” You asked, hearing the question echoing in the room, letting you know that maybe it was something you weren’t supposed to wonder out loud. Yoongi didn’t dare to ask such a question, but you seemed determined to make his wish come true, maybe you were the only one who could do it. 
“Don’t ask me.” He said, looking at the ceiling to avoid your gaze.  “Don’t act like running away isn’t your wish as well” 
You snorted, immediately grabbing a pillow and threatening to punch him in the face with it, but Yoongi is quick to cover his face with his arms.
“Don’t!” He protested, laughing.
 “Don’t expose me like that!” You whined, embarrassed. 
“What, am I wrong?” 
“Maybe you’re not…” You dared to answer, leaving the pillow on the bed again “But how do you know?”
“I told you, Pinky.” He murmured “I just know.”
You shook your head in denial, how could it be? Were you really that transparent or Yoongi really just knew? 
“What else do you know?” You continued to ask, curious. 
He pretended to think about it, pouting his lips and looking at the ceiling as if the answers were to fall from the sky. His eyes shifted towards yours, tilting his head “I know that you would run away to the beach with me if I asked you to.” 
A giggle was built in your throat, you laughed nervously as you tried to decipher if he was joking or not, even if Yoongi could see right through you, it was a bit difficult for you to do the same with him. 
“I don’t know about that.” You said, ignoring the way your heart was beating against your ribcage. “Do you mean in… an hypothetical scenario?” 
“It’s a hypothetical proposal.” He answered.
“I’ll have to check my schedule first.” 
A smirk tugged from the corner of his lips. “What about… two weeks away from now?”
You did the calculation in your head, but you already knew that by then Yoongi would have to go back to class, so you doubted. “What about the semester?” You asked, trying to be the voice of reason. “Your last semester, might I add.”
“That could wait.” He did not hesitate “Isn’t it part of running away? Leaving things behind?”
You laughed “And what would people say about me, then? That I made you leave college, nuh-hu.” 
“Here we go again with that.” He rolled his eyes “I don’t care what people say and, besides, I’m not leaving college, I’m… postponing it.” 
That didn’t sound like the Yoongi you knew at all, but then again, this whole conversation didn’t sound like anything Yoongi from the past would say. A thousand questions crossed your mind, like what do you do on the beach in winter? Wouldn’t being alone be a problem? What are you going to talk about, where are you going to stay? If you say yes, would he grab your hand when you crossed the street, would he try to kiss you again? 
You crossed your arms, thinking about it, not daring to agree right away, but how could you say no? When he was looking at you, convinced that you would say yes. 
You opened your mouth, not sure what you were going to say but still ready to answer, and before you could utter a word, he interrupted you. “Run away with me to the beach, Pinky.” He asked in a soft tone, looking at you with warm eyes and warm words, making your heart shake violently in your chest “Only for now, I promise I’ll make it worth it.”
You smiled, ignoring that little person inside you that tried to warn you about something, but you weren’t sure about what because all you could feel was your heart racing. “Fine, I’ll follow you for now.” You simply said, trying to sound as cool as possible “Let’s run.” 
In that moment you forgot about years and years of disappointment and failed dreams, failed wishes, you ignored the reality, deciding everything was false and true at the same time. You didn’t need to look at the clock to know that it was midnight, something inside your chest sparkled and told you it was time to make your wish, and for some reason, you listened. It echoed in every corner of your mind, your wish was the beach in winter. 
Four days before New Year’s Eve
Two weeks ago, when you bought Yoongi’s Christmas gift, you thought about it like a farewell. You stood in the shop and talked to the tall man with the long face and chose the gift as you tried to convince yourself this was a way of saying goodbye to him. 
That Christmas morning Yoongi tore the brown wrapping paper and opened the long box to find that you decided to give him a red tie. It wasn’t bright red, it was deep dark red, red like a rose. It came with a notebook and a pen with his initials on them. In your mind, you were giving away that version of him that lived in your head and clung to your thoughts and clung to your heart, that version of him you could never let go. Yoongi was about to graduate, he was about to become officially a lawyer, an adult, a man, he wasn’t that boy you fell in love with years ago, he was a wish you had to let in the past and your gift was just a way to remind you of it. You had a purpose, a plan, you had everything figured out until he decided to ask you to run away with him, until you said yes.
His gifts for you were a vinyl copy of Is This It by The Strokes, two tickets to watch When Harry Met Sally at the Alley the following week and a pair of red gloves for the rest of the winter. 
Yoongi looked at you and smiled like you both knew something everyone else in the room didn’t. “The gloves match with the tie.” He had said.
So now you had no plan, what you did have though, was a bunch of pictures of several locations Yoongi thought of booking for your trip to the beach. You were doomed. 
You thought the only person in this town who could possibly understand what you were going through was Minnie, the only person in the world who knew about your feelings for Yoongi, and the only person who you could call a friend at the moment. 
You weren’t expecting to see Minnie again when you saw her at The Alley a few weeks ago, but she had different plans; it was like she forced you to be her friend again. You tried to stop thinking you didn’t deserve it, you had to swallow your guilt and accept her friendship, and after a few five hour calls filled with gossip, you ultimately decided not to be against it, even if she called you everyday and still talked nonstop about that audition in the city, talking with her felt like you were still fifteen, and you liked it.
That night, as she raided her closet looking for a dress for you to wear at the New Year’s party at The Alley, you sat on her bed and gave her a run down of everything that happened with Yoongi since you came back home, it didn’t take her much to get you to admit that you were still in love with your brother’s best friend, so you might as well be honest and tell her everything. 
“You’re being stupid right now, sweetheart.” You heard her muffled voice from inside her closet. The next thing you saw was a piece of fabric flying in the air and landing at your feet. You grabbed it, putting in front of you to reveal a short pink dress that you would never, ever wear. 
You snorted, leaving the dress on the pile of clothes that you already rejected. You seemed to forget that Minnie was not the most adequate person to talk about “boy stuff”, perhaps because she was way too honest. You didn’t know whether it was a mistake or not to tell her about the trip to the beach, because all the questions she was asking and all the things she was stating to be true were thoughts you were desperately trying to avoid. 
“He wants to fuck you, I don’t know how else to tell you this.” She said, walking over the clothes to make her way to you. You threw yourself on the bed, covering your face with your palms “I mean, I wish I could only tell you that he’s head over heels for you, and honey, that he is, but he also wants to fuck you.”
You groaned, kicking your feet. “God, you make me want to throw up.”
“Of excitement, I’m assuming.” She affirmed “I’m telling you, there’s no way you’re going on a trip alone and come back without having fucked.”
You looked at her, begging her to stop talking, but she was not finished. “Stop!”
“Picture this.” She ignored you, forming a rectangle with her fingers and looking right through it as if she was directing a scene from a movie “First scenario, a storm causes the power to go out, there’s no electricity, you have no way to be warm so you sleep in the same bed to warm up, there’s tension, you look at each other and kiss, you fuck.”
“Okay, I don’t see that happening.” You shook your head. 
“Second scenario, you just finished showering, you go out of the bathroom wearing only a towel because you think he’s not there, but he is! He sees you, you kiss, you fuck.”
“That’s not… That sounds like porn.” 
“Third scenario!” She exclaimed. 
“Fine, that’s enough.” You stopped her, waving your arms in the air. 
“No, you have to prepare! And when it happens you will know that I was right.” Your friend insisted, but you refused to let any of those ideas in your mind. 
“What if you’re not?” You wondered “What if he just wants to be my friend and I’m just imagining everything?”
“But you are not, are you kidding?” She laughed “That man is clearly in love with you, why are you convincing yourself otherwise?”
You felt Minnie’s body sitting right next to you, causing you to sit back on the bed to look at her face to face. You were sure you were about to start crying out of frustration. “I don’t know, what if I get hurt?”
Minnie pursed her lips “Baby, I can’t answer that question at all, but you have to take the chance.” 
You groaned, annoyed. “I don’t want to take the chance.” You whined “I was fine before seeing him again, I wasn’t even thinking of him.”
“That is a lie,” She laughed, mocking you. “We both know you never stopped being in love with him, now you have him in the palm of your hand, do something.” 
Minnie stood up again, looking for another piece of clothing on the floor as you kept silent, wondering if any of that could be possible. Did you really have him in the palm of your hand? Was he in love with you and you were being stupid for believing that he wanted to be just friends?
“What should I do?” You asked her, hoping that the redhead in the room knew all the secrets of the universe. 
“Invite him to the New Year’s party and wear a hot outfit, how about that?” Minnie offered, like that could answer all your prayers. 
“Would that resolve all my problems?” You joked, talking to the sky. 
“C’mon, he literally asked you to run away with him, don’t you find that a little bit hot? Don’t you really think that was not code for ‘I want to fuck you’?” 
You laughed “Yoongi is not like that!” You protested. 
“I hate to break it to you, but you are hot.” She insisted, throwing another piece of clothing at your face. “And if Yoongi is not blind, he knows that, and let’s not forget the most important fact here.” 
“Which is…?”
“He’s in love with you, let’s start wrapping our heads around that.” She simply said “Once that’s done, you invite him to the New Year’s eve party at The Alley, you wear a hot outfit and confront him about it, tell him to stop playing around.”
You grabbed the dress Minnie just threw at you, which was another short dress, but this one was actually cute. It was black and was covered in black sparkly sequins with thin straps, you were definitely going to freeze to death if you wore that, but you were sure this fitted the description of “hot outfit”. 
Minnie was right, you couldn’t keep running away from the facts, everything was laid on the table, you didn’t need more proof to know that Yoongi felt something for you, even if you weren’t sure if it was the same that you felt for him, you needed to gather enough courage to find out what it was. 
You grabbed the phone in your pocket and opened Yoongi’s chat, you decided to invite him to the New Year’s party. 
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taglist: @kingofbodyrolls @overtherainbow35 @namin13 @p34rluv @moonchild1 @yoongisoftface @namgihours @idkjustlovingbts @yoongisducky @bangtansmauyeondan @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804 @yoongibaybee @hsbongwater
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ravenstargames · 16 days ago
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✦ Lost in Limbo Devlog #13 | 11.11.24
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Feels good to be back! This is our first post-Kickstarter devlog and I'm so excited to be writing it.
First of all— Lost in Limbo was successfully funded on September 20th, 2024! 🎉🎇
Yep, it has been almost two months, but it's still something to celebrate! Thanks to every single one of you for making this possible! We didn't meet all our stretch goals (there were a lot and taxes are a pain) but that doesn't mean we are giving up on those. More on that another time.
There's a lot of things we want to show y'all, so let's jump into it!
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A sneak peak of Envy's postcard!
Raquel has been working hard on getting the "special postcards from your favorite LI" ready to send them to print ASAP! Initially we were going to use art we already had of the LIs, but we thought it was more exciting to offer y'all exclusive art pieces. After this, Raquel will focus exclusively on the rework of the sprites!
We hosted a few polls and got a lot of feedback. If you missed it, you can check it here!
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Astro says hello :^)
As you know, the Extended Demo will feature more locations, including a glimpse of the MC's city, Faybourne! Astro is getting the main street ready for you and your bestie as you go on about your day. I've calculated around three / four different and new locations to properly pace the demo as we imagined it in the first place!
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The writing deparment (me. i'm the department) has been focusing on the Extended Demo script. I have a lot of things to play with, like the flavor choices, the personality choices, and more. I want to create a proper balance because one of the things y'all asked for was more choices, and the pacing needed a bit of fixing, as we already knew!
The Extended Demo will actually introduce characters you've heard about, like your mom, your ominous grandmother, and your bestie. So no more talking about them, you'll actually get to meet them like we wanted to!
There will also be more time with the LIs, and hopefully the amount of time you spend with each one of them will feel more balanced, too.
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Programming has been an adventure! Huge shoutout to Feniks for helping me figure out how to properly make a toggle for the timed choices as well as helping me polish the personality system. What a lifesaver!
So the timed choices toggle now works perfectly. That means you'll be able to turn them off if you'd like to play the game without being jumpscared by a timer—that doesn't mean you won't be able to mess up, though, on purpose or not :^) This is a dark game, after all!
The personality choice system lets you decide how the MC reacts to things including the nature of your romance with the LI. That means dialogue will automatically change in certain parts of the game to reflect the personality of your MC, some options will be locked, some unlocked, etc. There's three different personalities available.
For colorblind folks, the choices will have a different icon when you hover over them for you to know they're different!
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Also, I've started coding some extra mini cgs Kayden's been working on! There'll be more in the Extended Demo to enhance the experience, so we hope you enjoy them! :^)
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All the packaging stuff has arrived to our provisional headquarters (Raquel's home), and our business cards have been secured! Every backer with physical goodies will receive one for free :^) This month has been all about managing Backerkit, orders and merch, as well as preparing the Extended Demo. We hope we can receive everything very very soon and start shipping packages starting December!
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For now, that's it! There's a lot of stuff going behind the scenes, a lot of things that need attention, and a lot of planning happening. Also the catastrophe the DANA has been on our cities is keeping me a bit on edge, but I'm trying to focus on work. This Saturday I'm going on a trip to Greece with my family, so I'll disconnect then! It's our first time traveling to a different country since I was like...seven years old? And we have been saving up and preparing a lot for the trip, so we are excited :^)
I hope everyone has been taking care and doing alright! Have a huge hug from the Ravenstar Team, and see you around!
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galamalion · 11 months ago
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𐕣. 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐙𝐄𝐍 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐒
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summary. you attempt to enjoy the peaceful snowfall on your own, but aren't these beautiful moments meant to be shared?
⤷ contents. yandere!chrollo lucilfer x fem!reader, yandere themes, imprisonment, unhealthy relationships // wc. 1.6k
⤷ notes. thank you to @ddarker-dreams who inspired me to write something for chrollo, she's written some deplorable things for this man <3 i'm still only writing for one piece, this is something i just really wanted to write!
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Snow had been falling for the last hour, painting the city below in a thin sheet of pure white, only the dark speckles of countless heads walking to-and-fro disturbing the peacefulness below. The windowsills and balcony were also beginning to pick up a layer, growing steadily with each tiny flake that joined the pile. A beautiful sight slowly being constructed, irreplaceable and inimitable by mankind.
But what is a beautiful thing, if not to be held and marveled?
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You gazed solemnly out the window, fingers splayed against the chilled glass. A similar feeling no doubt to the snow that was just out of reach. God, how long had it been since you’d touched snow? Felt that freezing, yet warming sensation dance across your nerves, sending confusing signals to your brain.
Three years inside a luxury penthouse gave you time to organize your thoughts more poetically.
Well, to say you’d been here for three years would be inaccurate. Two years and five months inside this home. Chrollo must have been anxious for the first seven months he had you, either keeping you by his side or stashing you in rich hotels, if only for a single night.
Perhaps he had become more comfortable, or maybe he was working on a long job, seeing as you’d been here for so long. The fact that you were unsupervised made you lean towards the former, in addition to his unbeatable strength that made resistance futile. But you knew your limits, and slowly you’d been learning Chrollo’s over the course of these three years. Carefully tip-toeing the line between admonishment and punishment; you’d never get the last word but always make a sharp jab, leaving the oh-so generously gifted—and probably stolen—jewelry and makeup untouched, and, perhaps your favorite, ignoring his first call of your name, but always coming on the second.
Pretending to not have heard Chrollo was your favorite pastime after learning that there was little he could do except implore you to open those poor little ears of yours. And it was a joy asking him to repeat himself, enjoying the twinge of annoyance that you could make out in his voice. 
However, as was normal in your new life, Chrollo had made himself scarce for an extended period of time. It wasn’t strange, in fact it was a much needed relief of his soul-scathing presence. He was most likely on a job, having found some ancient book or enchanting onyx necklace that he just had to have. Or, more accurately, another rotting memoir of a dead pompous poet that you would have to listen to Chrollo gush about, and another piece of jewelry for you to throw in the box and forget.
Maybe he’d get creative and bring you a fun hat this time.
At the end of the day, Chrollo wasn’t here, leaving you alone with your own thoughts. It was refreshing, not being alert at every waking moment, though that freezing fear had most certainly dulled with time. You had time to read, maybe start on a puzzle before you became too tired—coffee had been upgraded to a privilege in the last month, and something that Chrollo was only allowed to make, leaving you to rely on your own body’s performance to remain awake for longer. But puzzles left a sour taste in your mouth ever since Chrollo exchanged your fun scenic sets for Renaissance paintings.
And so you settled on reading, the only other thing to do in this godforsaken prison. Chrollo never liked it when you called it that, reminding you that ‘prisons didn’t have fresh produce or fireplaces.’ But even a golden cage is a cage, something you’d remind him of. He took away the remote after that spat.
You abandoned your window gazing and skipped over to the imposing bookshelf and the expansive collection of tomes that awaited you. Half were unreadable, written in dead languages you couldn’t begin to comprehend. The other half were plain boring, a collection of classics that Chrollo had most likely stolen over the years. But a handful were bearable, or at least interesting enough to keep you reading. You had offhandedly mentioned to Chrollo that you preferred mysteries, and the very next day a complete vintage series of Sherlock Holmes appeared. You tried to hint at adding more diverse genres, but so far there have been no new additions to the bookshelf. 
After peeling the first book from the shelf and giving it a light shake to remove any lingering dust, you fled to the comfort of the window nook. It was a remarkable spot—one you knew Chrollo hated, since he could not sit next to you. You thumbed through the book to the first page, laying eyes upon the old and yellowed paper.
“In the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the University of London, and proceeded to Netley to go through the course prescribed for surgeons in the army.”
“Already a far more interesting life,” you muttered, “wish I could be a doctor.”
“Having completed my studies there, I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers as Assistant Surgeon. The regiment was stationed in India at the time, and before I could join it, the second Afghan war had broken out.”
“Oh, to travel the world. How I envy you, Watson,” you sighed, bleakly turning towards the window.
The snow hadn’t quit, continuing to stain the buildings in white, a gorgeous scene to behold. It was not to be enjoyed for long, however, as you caught a despicable glimpse in the reflection behind you.
Walking ever-so slightly closer was your captor, Chrollo Lucilfer, in the flesh. Although he seemed to immediately realize he’d been spotted, ceasing his silent movement before you swiveled your head around to face him.
“Please, don’t let me interrupt your commentary,” he gave an innocent smile, “it’s always a treat to hear your dulcet voice.”
“I’d rather keep my thoughts to myself, thanks,” you spat, sending a glare his way before turning back to your book.
“If you’d like to travel the world, I could certainly take you,” he continued.”
“I’ll pass, Chrollo.”
“What ever happened to our little nicknames, my dove? I seem to recall you had quite the attachment to calling me Mephistopheles,” he noted, resuming his gait towards you.
You rolled your eyes, “I’ve since concluded you rather enjoy being compared to the devil, whereas I am not your dove, nor any bird you refer to me as.”
“I’m terribly sorry, my dear,” he cooed.
“I am not yours.”
“You seem to have forgotten that I have stolen you, therefore you are mine.”
“Ah!” you cried out, “I believe you’re forgetting the special word for stealing another person. Perhaps you’ve heard of it? It’s called kidnapping.”
Chrollo smirked at your words, now leaning against the wall beside you, staring down at your piece of literature.
“Believe me, treasure, I am well aware of the crimes I commit.”
“Feel free to list them,” you turned the page of your book, “I assure you, I’m listening.”
He easily plucked the book from your hand.
“Company is meant to be enjoyed, not tolerated,” he teased, returning it back to its place on the shelf. “Besides, the snow outside is stunning, is it not?”
“Of course,” you sneered. “Here, let me put on my cap and scarf, and then we can go frolic in this wonderful weather!”
“Now, now, there’s no need to get smart with me.”
“I wouldn’t dare dream of it.”
Chrollo went quiet and gave you a look, a sign for you to shut your mouth before you ruined tonight.
“I am more than willing to put on a movie tonight, given that your attitude improves,” he spoke softly, moving back towards you.
There was hidden, unspoken meaning behind his words, something you’d grown to adjust to with your snarky attitude. Behave, or you get nothing.
“...What movie do you have in mind?” you responded, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to cool your soured mood.
“I’ll give you the choice, but I’m feeling partial to a select couple. Perhaps Romeo and Juliett? Or Pride and Prejudice?”
Someone’s in a mood tonight, you thought, folding your arms.
“Pride and Prejudice is fine,” you concluded, not wanting to hear Chrollo wax on about what Shakespeare meant or didn’t mean.
“Wonderful,” he smiled, walking over to the kitchen. “Now, would you like a cup of hot chocolate, my dear? I believe it would be fantastic on such a cold day.”
“That would be nice, thank you,” you answered as politely as you could manage, well aware that a simple ‘sure’ would not be enough to earn you any specialties.
You stood from your window alcove and walked quietly towards the bedroom, attempting to do so casually and without drawing his attention.
But it was impossible to slip anything past Chrollo Lucilfer.
“Dear,” he called out, still focused on his work at the counter.
You wordlessly turned around, staring emptily at the back of his head.
“There should be a dress, a black one, on the far right of your wardrobe,” he instructed, “be a doll and put it on.”
“...Alright.”
A black dress, probably too short to be comfortable in either direction. Chrollo’s favorite pastime, of course, was getting a glimpse of the body you’d refuse to show. But this was Chrollo’s night, not your own. Never your own.
So you’ll put the dress on, just like you’ll watch the movie that Chrollo wanted, right next to him—too close to him—on the sofa. And who knows, maybe you’ll do a puzzle with him at the end of the night.
But wasn't the snow just stunning?
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766 notes · View notes
acey-wacey · 7 months ago
Note
Good morning!!! Congrats for hitting 2000 followers, I think you really deserve it! Also, I'm really glad that you've returned! I've been following your blog ever since last year, when I found your "Love Rivals" and "Meeting your future children", I really like how you portray the twst characters in your writings! There are times where I smiled For the 2000 milestone event, could I please request Idia with Lavender (Mind Reading)? You know how Idia usually think lowly himself, right? What if Idia has feelings for reader, yet he doesn't take action because of his low self-esteem/fear of rejection, but when Idia got in a potion accident where he can temporarily read minds, all he can hear from reader's mind are praises and thoughts of infatuation/admiration about him.
So that's the general idea of it, the rest is up to you. Also, I don't mind if you'll make a few changes here and there. That's all, thank you and have a nice day!
This is so cute! Thank you for hanging around so long!
I may have niche-video-game-referenced my way a little too close to the sun with this one. Hopefully, it makes sense to somebody.
...
Pairing - Idia Shroud x Reader
Prompt - Mind Reader
...
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"Tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna..."
It has been 40 minutes since Idia had gained his powers of telepathy and already he wanted them gone. Grim hadn't had a single thought the entire class except a dumb song he made up about tuna.
The whole thing had been Grim's fault really. The mischievous cat had run away from you and invaded the 3rd year alchemy room. And of course he ran right into Idia just as the upperclassman was adding ground eye of newt to his animal comprehension potion, causing the vial to smash all over him.
You had apologized profusely and tried to wrangle Grim back to your classroom, but Crewel made you miss your class and clean all the dirty cauldrons as punishment, thus why Idia couldn't stop hearing Grim's
Everyone else went on with making their potion, but unfortunately for Idia and his tendency to get overstimulated, he could hear the immediate thoughts of every person in the classroom. He had been trying and failing to pay attention to the lesson due to the crazy noise. Serves him right for daring to venture outside his room.
"I think I put too much nightshade."
"When's lunch again?"
"Sevens, he's pretty."
Idia perked up in his seat. That last one was your voice. He looked over to where you were scrubbing grime off the rim of a black cauldron. Much to his surprise, he made eye contact with you. You looked away so fast, he almost thought he imagined it in the first place.
"Shoot, I hope he didn't catch me staring," you thought. Idia could see the embarrassment in your face now that he knew what he was looking for. He didn't know who was standing behind him, but whoever the guy was was maxed out in luck to get the prefect to like him.
Idia turned back to his cauldron and began to stir lethargically. He tried to block out the noise coming from everyone's thoughts but it was getting very loud. He just wanted to be back in his room playing video games!
"His little pout is so cute! Poor thing, he probably wishes he was back in his room," you thought. Idia's brows furrowed as he subtly looked around the classroom trying to find the person you were thinking about. "I wonder what he's looking for."
Idia snapped back to look at you, only to find you glancing at him again. This time, you were startled but you held his gaze and offered a hesitant wave.
Idia turned his face away as fast as he could so you wouldn't see the growing blush on his face.
"Hm, his hair is turning pink on the ends. I hope he's not mad at me for staring at him," you thought, turning back to the cauldron you were working on. "Though if he doesn't want me to look at him, maybe he should try being less nice to look at."
Idia let out an involuntary squeak. He felt his head start to swim and quickly sat down on a nearby stool. He was sure he looked absolutely crazy to the other students but he was so preoccupied by your thoughts that were apparently about him.
"Is that shallow of me to think that? I don't know. I mean, I don't like him just because he's cute. I also love listening to him talk about games he likes and his inventions are crazy awesome!"
Idia pulled himself deeper into his jacket. Your gaze had been fixed firmly on your work for fear of being caught staring again, so you didn't notice Idia's rapidly increasing fluster meter.
"I like how sweet he is to Ortho, even though he kind of hates everyone else." You sounded kind of defeated when you thought that, or at least you would if your thoughts sounded like anything. "He probably hates me too. I am just another normie. Though I don't know if he co-ops Untitled Goose Game with just anyone."
"No! I don't!" he wanted to scream, but he couldn't get a single sound out of his mouth. He thought he was the self-deprecating one, but you seemed to have convinced yourself that the boy who had a big fat, very obvious crush on you hated you. He even let you play the blue switch controller even though it was his favorite.
"I do wish he would stop being so mean to himself though," you thought, more sincere than Idia expected. "He's so amazing, but refuses to believe anything nice I or Ortho say to him. Maybe if he read my mind, he'd know I'm being sincere."
Idia froze. Did you know about the potion? Had you been messing with him the whole time?
"Well, that little brat better believe me when I tell him I love him even if I have to beat it into him with a Wii remote tennis racket attachment," you thought with a playful vengeance. "Do you hear that, Idia Shroud? I'm gonna make you believe nice things about yourself no matter how many niche video games references it takes!"
That was the moment you decided to glance at Idia, downright shocked when you found him curled up inside his hoodie on a stool with bright pink hair poking out the top.
"Idia, are you okay?" you asked. When he didn't respond, you went up to him and brought your face down to where his would be if you could see it. "Hey, are you alright?"
He jumped, almost falling off the chair.
"You actually said that?" he looked stunned which confused you.
"Yes?" you offered, unsure what he was talking about. "I did just say it."
"Uh, um, I'm, uh, fine," Idia tried to smile at you but it came off more pained than reassuring.
"I don't believe you. What's the matter? Is it too loud in here?" you asked.
"Shame he's always hiding his face. His blush is so adorable!"
"Yes!" Idia shrieked frantically, catching the attention of a few nearby students. "It's too loud. I can't think."
You nodded empathetically.
"You wanna step out for a minute?" you offered, gesturing to the door with a nod of your head. Idia nodded, desperate to get away. It really was very loud, especially with everyone's thoughts flooding his brain. Your seemingly-harmless sweet nothings were only the final nail in his coffin.
You followed Idia out of the room and shut the door behind you.
"Won't Professor Crewel get mad?"
You scoffed.
"Not a single teacher at this school gets to get mad at me after everything I've done," you leaned against the wall with a calming smile. "And if they do, they'll answer to the ghosts that live in my house."
That made Idia chuckle. You lit up seeing a smile on his face, no matter how minute.
"I love seeing you smile. If only I could be the reason more often."
"You're pretty much the only reason," Idia mumbled. Your easy smile dropped.
"What did you say?"
"What?" Idia averted his eyes, his mind filling with panic. "I didn't say anything."
"No, no, you said 'you're pretty much the only reason'," you questioned, your eyes full of confusion and shock. "That sounded like... I don't know, I was thinking something and then you said that and it sounded like..."
You squinted in confusion before scoffing at yourself and relaxing.
"That's stupid, Y/N. He can't read your mind."
"Actually, I can?" Idia squeaked, his voice getting higher with every word. Your eyes widened.
"Idia," you said solemnly, standing dead still.
"Mm-hm?"
"You can read my mind."
"Well, not usually, but there was a thing with a potion and it was with Grim and it messed with my head and now I can read minds and it's actually really loud but mostly I'm just nervous because of the stuff you've been thinking and I'm just really..."
You held up a hand to silence Idia's rapid rambling. He looked away sheepishly. You sighed and blinked a few times to process before laughing. Idia looked up in confusion.
"Aren't you mad?" he asked hesitantly. "I violated your privacy."
"I mean, you saved me the time of confessing to you myself," you chuckled, a giddy smile on your face.
Idia stared at you, trying to find traces of joking but you seemed to be serious.
"You aren't mad?"
"I'm in love with you is what I am."
262 notes · View notes
ramirezmindset · 3 months ago
Text
ғᴀɴʙᴏʏ ʜᴀs ᴀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ?!
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ᴍɪᴄᴋᴇʏ ɢᴀʀᴄɪᴀ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
→ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: you've been married to mickey for nearly three years now, but things can only stay secret for so long, especially when a certain Jake discovers you two on a coffee date...
→ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: adult language, but mainly fluff and a few sexual innuendos (no smut) :P definite naval inaccuracies, mickey and y/n are both around twenty-eight years old during this. ↳ wc: 3050
→ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: first post on this blog also first time writing in maybe 4 (??) years eeeek!!! hope it lives up to the hype, feelin funky fresh - requests are open!
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seven years ago
You were a fresh spring chicken. A graduate, an adult, a taxpayer, looking on towards the horizon at your fresh and gleaming new life, the excitement was palpable. You and your best girlfriend, Cara, had moved into your new San Diego apartment a mere seven months ago, both of you having job offers out the door. Maybe being grown up wasn't so bad.
There was one thing missing from your life, you thought, as you looked out the window of the café you and Cara settled on for coffee. You didn't have anyone.
"Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?" Cara exclaimed, a slight smirk on her face. You didn't realise you said that out loud. She knew exactly what you meant by 'anyone', she just loved to tease you. You rolled your eyes at her and chuckled.
"C, you know exactly what I mean. You have Sophie, who, by the way, might as well start paying rent considering she's at our apartment every. Single. Night." Now it was Cara's turn to roll her eyes.
You had always been the shy guy out of your friends, much preferring comics and solo nights in to crazy nights on the trot. It's not that you were against an alcohol fuelled 'gals about the town' evening with all your best friends, but nothing beat the comfort of laying on the couch doing absolutely nothing all by yourself.
And you complain you don't have anyone. The hypocrisy is almost laughable as you take a sip of your coffee. You were just never the type to attract anyone, it's not that you were bad looking, or lacked the social skills to keep someone engaged in conversation, it's just that you never liked the people who approached you. They were always too this, or too that, and despite all of your friends telling you that "his favourite spiderman suit will not affect the sex", you just couldn't do it.
"Yeah, about that" Cara trailed off, running the tip of her finger over the rim of her mug. "Sophie and I have been together for a while now..."
"Six months, three weeks, and five days" You replied, closing your eyes in disbelief at the fact you even know that let alone said it out loud.
"Yes, however long that is" Cara waved her hand at you. "Anyway, Sophie mentioned that her and I get our own place together." She squinted her eyes at you, trying to gage how you were feeling, but you stayed silent, lips pursed.
"Ok" You sighed. "I don't blame you. Do it!"
"Really? You're not mad?"
"Why would I be mad?" You giggled before reaching across the table to hold her hand. "You're my best friend, and I'm so glad that you and Sophie found each other, and I want you to go and be happy and live life and have sex and not have to worry about waking me up 'cos the walls in our apartment are so thin!"
Cara chuckled and shook her head. "Yeah, that is a perk, actually. But now, you'll have an empty apartment, go rent the spare room out to a hot guy or bring someone home and fuck them as loud as you want and-" Her jaw falls slack. "Don't look now, but look now, is that not the most delicious man you've ever seen!"
You turn your head to look in the same direction as her, and sure enough, the most attractive man you've ever seen in your life is approaching the barista just a mere few metres away from you.
"Holy shit" slips off your tongue before you can even think, and you can't stop yourself from staring at him.
He was standing there, looking around nervously, his hands thrust into the pockets of his loose-fitting jeans. A mop of inky curls sat upon his head, just leaving his chocolate brown eyes in your view as they darted around the room. His T-Shirt hugged his biceps almost too well, as if it was made for him, and you could feel your mouth practically watering at the sight of him.
"Cara, kill me right now. Just fucking kill me immediately" You pulled your eyes away from him to see Cara sinking into her chair, her hand covering her mouth as she was nearly crying from laughter. "What is so funny?"
"Nothing, I've just- I've never seen you like this before" She takes a deep breath and rubs her eyes. "Go talk to him! If you don't fuck him, I will, and I'm gay!"
"No! Cara, no, I can barely talk to ugly guys, and he is-" You close your eyes and swallow. "And he is actually raw sex appeal"
Before you know it, Cara is kicking your shins underneath the table, using her feet to twist your knees to the side and practically force you to stand up.
"At least go order another drink whilst he's there! Just smell him, I know you want to!" She laughs as you nervously approach the space at the register next to him.
He makes eye contact with you as you walk past, whipping his head to follow your body as you make your way to the counter. You're internally cursing yourself for wearing a stupid Spiderman sweater for coffee, I look like such a freak, you think.
"1984, Secret Wars" someone says from beside you. You whip your head towards him, eyes wide and confused. "Your sweater. The first black Spiderman suit, 1984, Secret Wars" He smiles awkwardly.
"How did you-" You shake your head. "Yeah, yeah it is" You glance over his shoulder at Cara, who is sat there with her mouth agape at your absolutely horrendous attempt at chat. "Um, it's nice to meet someone who knows this stuff. I felt like a total dork in this sweater five seconds ago"
"You shouldn't" He grins at you, a big, gleaming, shit-eating grin. "I love Spiderman, and I think you're cute as fuck" His hand instinctively comes up to nervously scratch at the back of his neck as a blush rises up your face.
"Thank you" You say, grabbing the coffee you forgot you even ordered because you were too busy tripping over your thoughts when you walked over. "I'm Y/N, by the way"
"Mickey" He replies. "I'm Mickey, and I'd love to take you out"
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present day
It had been seven years to the day since you first met Mickey in the café in San Diego, and here you were, in the exact same spot, with the exact same man, ordering the exact same coffee's, except this time with rings adorning your fingers.
The last seven years had been a whirlwind, Cara did end up finding her own place with Sophie, the two of which were still together, and you did end up bringing a hot guy home and fucking him as loud as you wanted to, just as she said on that fateful day, and instead of renting out Cara's old room, you invited Mickey into yours, turning the now empty second bedroom into your comic shrine just two months after your first meeting.
It turns out, yourself and Mickey had more in common than you could've ever imagined, and for the first time in your life, you didn't feel like a total misfit. When you learnt he was a naval aviator, it was a surprise, but something you were willing to work with, there was no way in hell you were going to let a guy this perfect slip from your grasp. Plus, you knew it would all work itself out in the end, evident in the fact he's now working in the city you both live.
You look down at the wedding bands sitting delicately on your finger, thinking about the life you've shared with Mickey, the love, the laughter.
"Cara, I don't think I'm ready for this" Your maid of honour fanned your face with her hand, her eyebrows furrowed together as you paced around the bridal suite of the beautiful wedding venue.
"Pull yourself together, for Christ's sake!" She replied through gritted teeth, grabbing your shoulder's and twisting you round to look at her. "It is your wedding day! I'm the one that's meant to be stressed out, I practically planned this whole thing. You're walking down that aisle, I will drag you down it by your hair if I have to!"
You closed your eyes, Cara's grip on your shoulders feeling like a tonne. Slowly, you sink to sit down on the floor, probably crumpling the skirt of your perfectly steamed white gown.
"I just-" you sigh "What if he runs? What if he realises I'm not what he wants?"
"Are you crazy?" Cara joins you on the floor, holding your clammy hand in hers. "He's probably just as nervous as you are, and I know that sounds bad considering what just came out your mouth, but that man loves you. He practically kisses the ground you walk on!" You let out a small chuckle at this, you know she's right.
"I'm serious!" Your friend continues. "For the last three years, that man has been hellbent on making you smile. He's like a man possessed, he has been ever since he saw you wearing that horrible Spiderman sweater in the café!"
That part was true. Almost immediately after Cara overheard Mickey say he'd loved to take you out, she stalked over, blurting out a quick "she's free tonight!" before grabbing the coffee out your hand and scuttling out the door.
"That works perfect" Mickey blushed shyly. "If you'll let me?" You remember blushing, and bashfully nodding. You were all jelly legs and a puddle of nerves when your doorbell rang at seven on the dot, looking up to see Mickey's vague silhouette through the fogged window of your front door. Since that day, he's never left your side. You've never opened a car door for yourself, never refilled your own water bottle at night, never spent a dime on a pair of shoes, because, no matter what, he's always two steps ahead, reading you like a book.
"Now come on" Cara said, heaving you up and smoothing out the tulle of your dress. "Let's go get you a husband!"
You were enjoying the peace and quiet of the café, hearing the nearby waves crash and fall through the open windows, and the delicious smell of pastries and espresso wafting around the room, the feeling of your husbands protective arm around your shoulder. He looked at you as if he had the stars and the moon in the palm of his hand, the universe glimmering in his eyes as he opened his mouth to say, what you already knew was, 'I love you'. That was, until, the bell above the door behind you rang and, quite frankly, the loudest gasp you've ever heard rings across the place, louder than the gasp Cara gave you when you showed her the huge rock on your finger when Mickey proposed.
"Fanboy?!" Mickey's eyes go wide next to you, and you can practically see the cogs turning in his head. There was no specific reason Mickey kept his marriage a secret from his pilot friends, though he prefers the word 'private'. Not only did it spare him a whole lot of hassle at work, but it kept you free from the pressure of having to actually have to talk to new people. He knew your distaste for meeting new people, the whole 'What's your name? What's your favourite colour? What do you do for a living?" causing actual bile to rise in your throat at the thought of such boring conversation. So when you nervously requested that he not tell his co-workers about your marriage because, in your own words, "I'll have to meet them and then I wont be able to go out and do what I want", a weight was lifted off his shoulders.
"Fanboy, that is you!" The voice repeated. "And...a girl, oooh!" Mickey turned around to see, who you had learned prior to be 'Hangman', Jake Seresin.
"He's nice" Mickey would say. "But he tries to fuck anything that is female, human, and has a pulse, so he's not going anywhere near you!"
"Hi, Hangman!" Mickey forces out, through gritted teeth. "What are you doing here?" His arm falls off your shoulders as he disappears a few steps behind you to greet his friend.
"Getting coffee and a sweet treat, what else?" He laughs, and you can feel his eyes burning into your back. "And who is this?"
You were hoping he had forgotten you were there as you slowly shuffled further and further down the counter, pretending to peruse the pastries as to avoid any social interaction. Mickey and Jake appear next to you, a look in your husband's eyes that can only be interpretated as 'I'm sorry.'
"Uh- Jake, this is Y/N" Mickey says, holding his arm out in an almost jazz-hand manor, presenting you as if you were a finger painting a child was showing their mom.
Jake makes eye contact with the gold band on Mickey's finger before he makes eye contact with you, his eyebrows furrowing. He grabs your left hand, faster than light, inspecting the matching wedding band, the gold glimmering in the afternoon sun that beat through the window. He grabs Mickey's left wrist, holding your hands up next to each other as his eyes flick between them. Suddenly he drops them both as his eyes go wide and another yelp leaves his lips.
"Garcia, you're married?!" He looks like a proud dad.
"Hangman, please-" Mickey's practically starts begging, his hand instinctively reaching for yours, but is cut off by a boyish slap on the shoulder.
"I cannot believe this!" Jake laughs, throwing his head back, his free hand clutching his stomach. "How did I not realise this? What the actual fuck, have I died? Have I died and gone to hell? A world where Fanboy, of all people, has a girlfr- no, not girlfriend, a wife?!?"
Mickey chuckles with him, shaking his head and blushing. He pulls you into him. "Hangman, we keep this private for a reason, so please can we just keep this between us? As in, my wife and I go about as normal and you keep quiet?"
"Keep quiet? About this? No way, I can't, I've never kept a secret in my life!" Jake is practically squealing, who knew a grown man would be this thrilled over someone else's marriage. "I'm sorry, I haven't even introduced myself, I'm Hangman, my friends call me Jake, or daddy, depending on which friend's you're talkin' to, if ya catch my drift"
You shook his hand politely, a nervous smile on your face. "I'm Y/N, uh, nice to meet you"
"So this is why you didn't want anyone to know" Jake looks at Mickey knowingly, crossing his arms and squinting. Mickey raises an eyebrow and cocks his head in confusion. "What, dude, your wife's hot. Better keep her away from Rooster, don't worry, bud, your secrets safe with me."
And with that, Jake retreats out the café, not even ordering his coffee, or sweet treat.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Your secret was not safe with him.
Later that evening, you were sat at The Hard Deck bar, where you and your husband were frequent flyers, no pun intended. Cara and yourself sat in the corner, nursing a drink each, catching up on the past few weeks, mainly talking about her upcoming wedding. Mickey was on the other side of the bar, pool cue in hand as he made eye contact with you, stealing a sly wink before turning back to his aviator friends.
"Earth to Y/N!" Cara says, waving a hand in front of your face. "God, I wander what would've happened if I never pointed him out to you at that café!"
You were interrupted by a thundering yell by the front door. "Guys!" Oh Christ. "Guys, Fanboy has a wife!"
"That wouldn't have happened, I can tell you that for certain" You rested your head in your hands, avoiding Jake's gaze like the plague before he inevitably would pull you over to the group. You sank further and further into your seat, practically merging with the chair as to avoid being spotted. As per usual, Cara was sat there with a hand slapped over her mouth, muffled laughter escaping through her palm.
"Fanboy has a what?!" The group yell back, almost in sync, as you make eye contact with Mickey who has his head down chuckling. He squeezed his eyes shut, nervously clamping his bottom lip with his teeth, desperately trying to drown out the thousands of questions being hurled his way.
"Since when?"
"Who is she?"
"Do we know her?"
"Is she here?"
"Guys, I think we should all give Mick his privacy, I mean, there's obviously a reason he hasn't said anything-"
"Shut it, Bob!"
"Tell us everything!"
With a nod of his head, you're rolling your eyes and dragging Cara along with you towards him. Your hand is clamped to Cara's, who's still regurgitating laughter behind you. Micky extends an arm as you get closer, putting the pool cue down to reach under his shirt and pull out his dog tags, a gold ring sitting on the chain.
"Jake!" You call out, playfully furrowing your brows at him. "That was supposed to be our little secret" Mickey's arm finds it's way behind your waist as he places a kiss to your temple, you're more than aware that his friends are looking at you, shock plastered across their faces.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry Y/N" Jake said, theatrically wiping sweat off of his forehead, giving you a quick side hug as a greeting, despite only meeting him a mere four hours ago. "I just couldn't keep it in. Our little Fanboy has a wife!"
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
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of-many-fandomss · 7 months ago
Text
Right Where You Left Me- Day 1
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Series Masterlist
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
warnings: mentions of heartbreak and breakups
summary: you and charles had ended things months ago. the only problem was that you were yet to tell your families, the ones that had been waiting for your wedding day since you were both barely four years old. cue a family gathering and it was time to pretend to still be that happy couple they all knew you to be
word count: 2.4k
a/n: i decided to turn this into a series :)
・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.
Barely three minutes in and you already wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow you whole. Barely three minutes in and you were already itching to tear your arm out of his. Barely three minutes in and you had no idea how you were going to possibly survive an entire week like this.
The smile that you had plastered on your face was strained and clearly forced and your features were beginning to hurt with the amount of strength it took to merely muster up the amount of strength it took to parade around with the masked look of happiness.
In reality, you hadn’t seen a happy version of yourself in two months.
It took more willpower than necessary in order for you to glance to the man whose arm was looped through yours.
Pretending that everything was fine seemed to come easier to him- thanks to years of pr training, you would guess- but after knowing the man for the entirety of your life, you could see the flicker of pain- and no doubt disgust- that he was internally feeling with having you by his side.
Without really meaning to, you found yourself studying the side of Charles’s face for the first time in two months as he spoke kindly to your aunt, a trained look of relaxation upon his features too good to be true.
The man didn’t so much as glance your way- though he could no doubt feel your stare- as he continued chatting in a conversation that you had long since tuned out of, not caring enough to hear what your gossipy aunt had to say about the venue or the people that were already in attendance.
It wasn’t until movement caught your attention from the corner of your eyes that you finally tore your gaze away from Charles just in time to watch your aunt bid the two of you a farewell before making a beeline for the open bar.
A silence stretched in her absence as the two of you stood in the middle of the bright and heavily decorated room, arms still woven together despite the fact that it couldn’t feel like you were farther apart.
Flowers were covering every surface and a pile of gifts were already beginning to accumulate on the center table in celebration of Charles’s cousin's wedding.
Sara had this date set for over seven months, so you couldn’t exactly use the argument that it had been sprung on you- but it also happened to slip your mind in the midst of all of the chaos that accompanied the last few months.
What you had never expected when a notification popped up on your phone from your calendar as a reminder of the wedding, was that another notification would pop up shortly after. A text message from Charles.
Until that point, you thought that he had surely blocked your number, opting to cut off every tie to you that he had. But perhaps he had done what you had, sat in front of your phone for hours after that terrible night, finger hovering over the block button, but not a single part of you being able to actually go through with it.
The message informed you in the shortest way possible that it would be for the best to go to the wedding together. Together. A word that hadn’t described the two of you in two months.
At first, your eyebrows had furrowed and a mixture of anger and utter sorrow rose from inside of you at the mere audacity of him to suggest such a thing, but as if he could read your mind, another text came through shortly after explaining that it would probably be for the best considering both of your families would be in attendance.
And just like that, the emotions had simmered out inside of you when you realized he was right.
For your families had known that the two of you had loved each other long before you two had.
Your grandparents had been best friends, then your parents, and then the two of you when you were born.
To them, it was the biggest miracle on earth when the two of you shyly admitted your feelings for one another at the mere age of sixteen, having supposedly danced around them for years.
It was hard to say who was more excited about the young, blossoming relationship, you two- or your families.
You and Charles had been best friends all of your lives, and even continued to be after you had begun dating, and life was looking like nothing but rainbows and sunshine. From Charles’s formula one career taking off, to you graduating university and starting a business of your own- all whilst supporting and loving each other wholeheartedly- everything was pointing towards the happily ever after the two of you had always dreamed of together.
That is, until it all came crashing down one fateful night. The night that had started as romantic and happy as could be, but came crashing down and ended in two broken hearts.
After you two broke up and went your separate ways, neither of you seemed to have it in you to tell either of your families, the people that were more supportive of your relationship then anyone. So, the two of you kept it to yourself and your closest friends that you knew wouldn’t tell anyone.
When Leclerc’s fans began questioning your wearabouts- the paddock's most beloved WAG- Charles would put on a tight smile and reply in the simplest way possible that you were busy with work and would no doubt turn up eventually.
A lie he told through his teeth.
At first, you had hesitated, knowing how awkward and hard it would be to pretend to be happy with Charles once more. As if everything was normal and there was nothing wrong.
But then you thought about it, and you really did like Sara. You didn’t want to ruin her big day by creating drama between your families and having the only thing they’re talking about be the two of you. That would be unfair to her on many levels.
So, you would just have to suck it up for a whole week while the festivities unraveled. During that, you would keep yourself as far from Charles as possible whilst still putting up the illusion of being the lovesick couple your families knew you to be.
Then, after it, you would figure out how to tell them all that you had broken up. And then, you would never have to see Charles Leclerc ever again and he would never have to see you.
It was awkward, the two of you just standing in the center of the room, though nobody so much as glanced at you a second time, not thinking much of it.
Gently, you slipped your arm from his hold, missing the way his eyes shot to you as soon as you did, you being too busy focusing on your shoes, “I’m going to get something to eat,” You muttered quietly.
It was the first thing either of you had so much as muttered to each other.
When you had both arrived at the venue for the welcoming party, you had wordlessly taken one another's arm in the parking lot and strode into the building. He had barely allowed his gaze to settle on you, and you had no doubt that he was too disgusted to even bother.
What you didn’t expect as you began weaving through the crowded room, was to feel his presence still behind you, wordlessly following like a lost puppy. It was something that he did so often when the two of you had been together that it felt almost natural.
Whenever you were in public and you needed to go somewhere- whether it be to the bar to get another drink, or to the cash register to check out at the grocery store- he would follow behind without complaint. You used to tease him for it constantly, calling him a puppy dog.
But he had taken it all in stride, simply smiling down softly at you before attaching his lips to yours and whispering that he couldn’t bear to be away from you if he could help it.
Over the years of you two dating- even before you weren’t- it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to always be attached at the hip. With his racing career, it meant that he was almost always away for long intervals of time. So when you actually had time together, you both tried to make the most of it.
By the time you reached the food table, you were still yet to look at him as you silently began piling snacks onto a paper plate.
Your gaze only lifted by the sound of your name falling out of someone's lips, and you glanced up just in time to see Arthur bounding your way, a wide, boyish grin resting upon his features and his arms out wide.
Silently, and almost like second nature, Charles carefully took your plate out of your hands and held onto it as his younger brother wrapped you up into a tight hug, which you gladly returned, the first hint of a real smile peeking out from your features.
“It’s good to see you too, Arthur.” You teased lightly as you pulled away slightly, getting a good look at the boy.
“My god, I’ve missed you.” The boy threw his head back and groaned when he pulled away, “My brother over here’s been so moody without you the last few times I’ve visited his races.”
Your eyes quickly darted to Charles at his brother's words, but the man kept his own gaze trained on the boy.
You forced a smile, “Well, I have been really busy with work.”
“Or so I’ve been told.” Arthur was grinning widely and he threw you a wink before jabbing his brother in the stomach with his elbow, “I must say, I thought the next time I would be at one of these things was for your wedding.” He was only teasing- harmlessly, at that- and you both knew it, but it didn’t stop either one of you from immediately tensing up.
“Arthur,” Charles warned, his voice low and his features hard.
The brunette boy held his hands up in surrender, eyes slightly wide, “It was only a joke, mate.” Though his voice was still light, brief hesitation flickered through his gaze. He glanced back to you with a smile, “I’ll leave you two to it, then. Have a lovely time.”
With that, he slipped away just as quickly as he appeared, but that didn’t stop your body from staying tense. Your posture rigid and your eyes trained on the spot that he had been standing in.
A gentle nudge to your side snapped you out of your thoughts to Charles gently trying to give you your plate back, his eyes focused anywhere but you.
Anger flared up inside of you suddenly, and you didn’t take the plate. Instead, letting out a loud scoff and maneuvering around him, storming out of the room as quickly as you could.
Thankfully, everyone seemed to still be too preoccupied in greeting one another to notice.
You could sense Charles behind you once more as you slipped into an empty side room, crossing your arms over your stomach and squeezing your eyes shut briefly with your back to him.
He was silent, waiting for you to speak first, leaning up against a nearby counter, his eyes scanning over you.
Finally, you turned to him, “What are we doing here, Charles?” A long sigh left your lips as you lifted a hand to run through your hair, fingers weaving through until you could pull slightly at the roots in agitation.
The brunette man standing across from you was tense. His shoulder muscles were locked and his jaw was set tightly while his arms were crossed over his chest, “What do you want me to say?” The softness of his tone didn’t match his rigid appearance in the slightest.
A humorless laugh left your lips as you spun on your heels, shaking your head, “I want you to tell me that we’re through with this. With the lies.” Your gaze cut to him once more, face dropping the mocking smile, “We broke up two months ago, Charles. And yet here we are, pretending to still be together at your cousin's wedding.”
Leclerc pushed himself off of the counter he had been tensely leaning against, eyes hard as he stalked closer and closer until he was towering over you. Despite the intimidation of his movements, you didn’t so much as bat an eye, staring up at him with daggers of your own.
“This isn’t a good time to tell them,” He spoke lowly, “It’s Sara’s wedding and we don’t want to take the attention away from her happy day. Not to mention the fact that it would kill our families if we told them.”
Your families. Your families that had been friends since long before the two of you were born. Since your grandfathers were kids.
They would take the breakup almost harder than you did in the beginning. Almost.
A slight scoff escaped your lips, “It’s never a good time.” You reminded him, referring to the multiple occasions the two of you had already had this discussion, “So, what? Do we just keep pretending to be dating? What’s next, a fake marriage? Will the charade continue until I’m walking down the aisle and we’re both bound to this unhappy life forever?”
Something flashed across Charles’s expression as he took a quick, recoiling step backwards.
It was a low blow, and you knew it. And yet, you couldn’t seem to care.
You waited silently for a moment, eyes dancing across the man’s features as he just stared back at you, having already cleared his face of whatever emotions had managed to escape his hold.
“Whatever,” You turned and began making your way out of the room, “But I hope you know that this isn’t gonna be able to go on for much longer. We can barely stand to be in the same room as each other, let alone act as if everything’s okay.”
And it was only the first day out of six that you had to be trapped in this lie.
・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.
Taglist: @vicurious28 @janeholt3 @youre-on-your-ownkid @amberpanda99 @theseerbetweenus
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hellisharchive · 9 months ago
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・﹒・ comatose dreams [1]
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Summary: After suffering from a fatal car crash, you had become comatose and had no hope of waking up anytime soon. You didn't know that, however, you thought you had died. After finding yourself in Hell, you wind up landing a job with Vox as your boss. You both fall quickly and deeply, but true love doesn't always work out.
Warnings: 18+, mentions of sex, masturbation, slight StaticMoth,
Notes: This fanfic is inspired by this lovely post by @timeslugarts! I would suggest reading it for a full summary, however if you want to go in blind, then don't!
﹒Stepping Stones﹒
An entire year working for VoxTech, what was your job, you ask? Well, you started out as a simple camera operator, then worked your way up to personal assistant, and you've had a crush on the television man for a good year now. Unfortunately, Vox always seemed so out of reach, so out of your league, you never even tried to even flirt with him and hoping he'd notice. He was an Overlord, one of the Vees, you were probably seen as nothing to him. Which hurt to think about, but was true nonetheless. So, you worked and went through your days with all your feelings festering inside you, ready to burst.
"Vox, you have a meeting with Vel and Val at three pm today to discuss potential strategies with Alastor returning, would you like to cancel?" You watched him as he adjusted his bowtie, ensuring that his outfit was perfect as always. He also had a tendency to cancel his meetings, but to the chagrin of his partners since he arrengaed them in the first place, but you still forced him to attend at least some.
"No, I know if I don't they'll be on my ass about it later" Turning from the mirror, he looked at you with a bored expression before putting on one of his smiles that you thought would be fake, but it was genuine. From working with him, you've learned to identify what smiles are real and ones that aren't.
"What? Do you really want to be alone with me THAT badly?" His smile then moved to a smirk, causing you get flustered and fumble with the tablet you were holding. Shit. Was that the first time he flirted with you? Vox chuckled as you regained your bearings, clearing your throat, you tried to remain professional.
"Well no sir, I was just uh, caught off guard by your uh...assumption" You coughed as he started to walk out of the room, knowing you'll diligently follow, and you did. You shut the door behind you and followed him as he made his way to his head of operations. He didn't tell you where he was going, but you knew his route every single day, that is- if he does, you'll still follow him wherever he went. You'll always be loyal to him and him only.
"Well, let's hope I don't have to calm Valentino down again today after yesterday..." He scowled just thinking about it. Yesterday, Val had yet again another temper tantrum and you watched as your boss did his thing. It was something you've grown accustomed to with your time as the tv man's personal assistant, they both fucked with no strings attached. Sure, they weren't together, but it still squandered you telling the truth about your feelings even further.
"Hopefully not, sir" You spoke as he entered his main control room, where he could spy on everyone and everything. He mainly has been monitoring the hotel and Alastor, even when the Radio Demon was gone for seven years, he never stopped bringing him up. The deer Overlord has only been back for a few months and he was the only thing Vox brought up for entire days sometimes. You didn't mind it though, it was pretty entertaining to witness. Sitting down in his chair, you grabbed yours and sat next to him as he observed everyone, trying to find Alastor roaming around. He checked the hotel first but couldn't find him with his scope of range. Time passes as he does his daily checking and observing, replying to emails, and the like. You busy yourself with checking his schedules and any business opportunities. You didn't realize that he stopped speaking until his sudden voice breaking the silence startled you.
"Do you think he'll ever take me seriously?" He spoke oddly quiet, his usual self gone as you swore you heard the faintest crackle in his voice. Looking up from your tablet, you saw that his head was down, looking at his lap with his hands fiddling each other as a sign of nerves. Sighing, you stood up and walked in front of him. Gently setting your hand on his shoulder, it caused him to look up with a face similar to a sad puppy. Smiling softly, with your other free hand, you placed it on his other shoulder.
"I know one day he will, sir. Trust me, you'll beat him and be the strongest overlord in Hell" You almost said "with me by your side" but refrained, knowing it was best not to mention that at all to him. This was about cheering him up, not entertaining your stupid fantasies. But, you saw as a digital blush faintly appear on his screen made your heart leap. You? A measly assistant managed to make THE Vox blush? You two were entranced, the feeling of leaning closer overwhelmed you as you both slowly inched closer and closer. What were you doing? You both were about six inches apart as he placed a hand over yours, now smiling devilishly as he chuckled.
"Of course I will, I just need someone by my side to do it" Did he...? You didn't have to fully process what he meant by that as you saw Vox's screen change to an incoming call with a ring. The moment ended as you cleared your throat and pulled away, taking your hands off his shoulders like they became fire. Of course- Valentino.
"Are you fucking-" He scowled as he transmitted the video call to one of his many screens, showing a very scandalously clad moth lounging on his bed, smoking and turning the screen into red before dissipating.
"Hey Voxy~ I need a fuck and I need it now. Angel Dust won't return my calls" Now, you weren't the biggest fan of Valentino, despite Vox also not being the best. But even as a sinner, you still did not agree with how that man treated others, especially his main star. Hearing the fact that he was demanding sex from your boss made your blood boil, yet you remained calm and neutral.
"Not now Val, find one of your other whores to fuck, I'm not in the mood" He didn't try to hide is displeasure as he held a very pissed off face staring at the pimp. Usually Vox never denied having sex with Valentino, so the sudden anger surpised you. Valentino just sighed, leaning closer to the camera. You weren't sure if he could see you, you hoped he didn't.
"You aren't fucking anyone else, right baby?" The question gave you whiplash despite not being the receiver. The moth sounded innocuous when you knew very well he manipulated Vox along with others. You knew his game.
"Fuck off Val" The tv Overlord than hung up, growling as he pushed out of his chair and started to walk towards the middle of the room. Following him, he headed back into the rest of the tower and back to his room. Before you could step in, he stood in the doorway, preventing your access.
"Don't bother me, do whatever the fuck you want for the next few hours, I don't care" and just like that, he slammed the door in your face. What the hell just happened? Taking a deep breath in, you mull over what you could possibly do when you decide to just take a walk. You needed some time outside the tower every once a while, so a walk would be perfect. Not wanting to head out in your work attire, you head to your room which was right next to Vox's (easier to be his assistant with you so close) and change. As you walked by your boss' door, you heard him panting and immediately flushed, walking away quickly as it felt wrong to hear him masturbate. You did walk in on him one time by pure accident and even to to this day he still teases you over it and makes fun of you. As you passed by, you could have sworn you heard him moan out your name, but he couldn't have. Right? Your ears were just playing tricks on you. Rushing past, opting to ignore it entirely, you went on your walk.
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hanihazeljade · 8 months ago
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TikTok Tim
TikTok has been a blast and of course, Richard has been bothering Tim to make an account for siblings bonding. But Tim got himself a newfound confidence and a new way to irritate the people around him.
(CW: thirst traps, TikTok, possible femboy content, swearing)
"Can we just talk about Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne?" A TikToker with million followers said, "Like this dude is seventeen turning eighteen in like 3 months and what he done in his almost 18 years of existence?" It showed a screenshot of a headline way back when he was attending grade school that he skipped two grades, "He skipped 2 years in school and even though he dropped for two years, because some tragedy happen in his life, he still managed to graduate high school the same year in his age range." Which is true, but with all hacking the school systems, he graduated.
"And I also discovered that he is emancipated from his foster parent, Bruce Wayne. Like at first it was insane because you got the Wayne to finance you but look at him, he is one of the biggest shareholder in the Wayne Enterprise and he already got so many praise especially from Lex Luthor," and then screen showed a clip of Lex saying, "I commend the young Drake-Wayne, even he doesn't have any degree in business, he knows how to handle one unlike some people that I know that have bachelors degree. But if you think about it, it must be in his blood after all his mother is Janet Drake, that woman is the scariest socialite in Gotham." And the screen turned back to the TikToker, "Dude doesn't have any degree yet get a praise from Lex Luthor? He is a genius I tell you." and with that the TikTok video ended.
It all started with that one video on how perfect and genius Timothy Jackson Drake. And it snowballed to edits, a thirst trap if you will, of Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. One TikTok video and the whole internet has been sleuthing every single picture, video of the new most eligible bachelor of Gotham City. And with that, #tim drake on TikTok have millions of views in span of 2 days. And it also doesn't help that Tim's life has been exposed in the different tabloids since he was a kid, being a member of a elite society especially in Gotham. He doesn't really know and care but with so many people doing a deep dives in his life, it kind of unsettling.
He scrolled again and it was a thirst trap edit. And he decided to exit the app, enough internet for the day.
"Timmmyy." Dick whined as he was begging Tim to make a TikTok account for 1, he can do those trends with Tim and two, he wants Tim to see those thirst traps edit of himself and it has been seven days straight. And Tim's patience has been wearing thin.
"I will, once I finished these reports." he said with no intention of doing it and gonna said that he forgot about it.
"No, do it now. I know your schemes, Timmy." Tim sighed with the insistence, "Then come back here later for you to remind me then."
++++++
"So, my brother Richard has been keep bothering me to make one of this account and apparently, many people tried to make a little clout so I am going to make one to gather all the clout." Tim said with a blank stare but let out a snort at the last part. "I will probably never upload anything again but yep, hope you are happy, Richard." and with that the video ended. 2 hours later after that video got uploaded, his account boomed to 2.3 million and his first video got featured in some internet forums and articles were being published online.
++++++
"And he finally succumbed to the Tiktok." Jason said as soon as he walked to his penthouse and Tim rolled his eyes.
"What are you doing here, oh mighty Jason?" Tim rolled his eyes, sarcasm is dripping to those words.
"I thought you are better than Dick but it seems like I was mistaken."
"Pot. Kettle. Just because I was on the side of edit Tiktok and you are in booktok doesn't make you the top. You are giving pick-me vibes, ngl."
"Did you really just said ngl instead of not gonna lie?"
"Did I stutter?"
++++++
Tim thought it will be cool if he just upload another Tiktok video after months of abandoning his account. He look at the trends and some old trends and he particularly got stuck in the transition videos and he took liking on the one audio edit of Jade West saying, "What's the prob, dog?", and he is a gremlin for a reason.
So, he was there chuckling at himself with the thought of the internet will never know what's gonna hit them.
+++++++
Tim likes to do a little bit of thirst traps in his content but he also like just to gave his audience what he does in his free time whenever he is done reading and signing the needed papers, like typing in his computer or solving a rubiks cube. And he keeps getting millions of views every time and it is such a ego boost for him.
But he also likes the videos with prominent people in United States, most is just him and Lex Luthor doing stupid shits and every time it will happen, both the stocks of WE and Lex Corp is going up and somehow that made both Tim and Lex being close yet hating each other so much.
The Justice League, specifically Superman, is very much annoyed and not happy about Tim's association to one of the prominent villains in the existence. But all Tim does is send them a lip sync video of him with the audio of, "Do I give a fuck? No, not one. How many fucks do I give? Zero. Exactly, so therefore your comment is irrelevant." And he called it a day. He is still fucking salty of about his worst year of his fucking life. He will not going to forgive those assholes when they didn't even apologise.
But somehow the limit of his TikTok freedom is having him doing a thirst trap in a form of being a femboy. Listen. Tim knows he will never be a brickhouse like Jason and Bruce but god forbid his BMI doesn't go up to 20 even in his peak body mass. He was always has been a twink and he also doesn't like that but apparently, that type of body is a perfect "bottom/submissive" material based on the different manhuas he having been indulge himself the past month.
++++++++
Dick was scrolling at his fyp page that was full of animals, gymnastics and Justice League edits - because, and he got in a video of a guy sitting on a red couch doing a simple transition of throwing his black shoe and then changing his casual fit to a more formal attire and it was a smooth transition on Dick's observation and he subconsciously goes to the comments because he wants a laugh at the thirsty comments.
Did anyone notice how smooth that transition is?
Lol, that is a big ass shoes
He is a mighty fine fella
WHY DOES NOBODY IS COMMENTING THAT THE ACCOUNT IS TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE-WAYNE?
Dick blinked once at that comment. And he blinked again. He closed the comments and swipe left. And the comment is right, it take him on Tim's verified account with now two videos.
When did Tim had a 5.6 million followers?!
Tim already on the same following count as him and he was still definitely gonna get more. Dick is now kind off regretting his decision if putting Tim in TikTok.
+++++++
The next month was shown that Tim doesn't have any schedule that follows his uploading, it seems like he upload wether he like. But the ones that broke the internet is the one thirst trap that Tim posted.
Ashley, look at me
Tim made the hand movements for the transition and from the Saint Laurent sweater, it is Jason's, Dick knows because he just saw Jason wear it like two days ago and it was paired with a black slacks and it turns into a oversized silk dress shirt and it looks like nothing underneath and Dick hopes that there is a boxers underneath because God forbids, he will delete Tim's TikTok account. In that video, it showcases Tim's long, pale, scarless legs, which is a fucking lie, he doesn't how Tim did it but that is a fucking lie. And oh boy was the comments are wild.
He is a sugar baby with the money of a sugar daddy
I'm straight but damn
yeah that's it, I'm bi now
I can hit that any time if he hit me up
Wait! I AM CONFUSED
Am I.. into this?
bottom vibes ngl
Dick stops reading the comments. TIM IS HIS LITTLE BROTHER! Sure he's nineteen but Dick felt uncomfortable looking at his brother's thirst trap, that he made himself. He immediately message Tim to stop posting thirst traps and Tim just reply with, 'Well, you have to face the consequences of forcing me to this damn app'.
He will be damned, he thought.
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enderisin · 25 days ago
Text
⚠️ WARNING ⚠️
LONG RANT ABOUT EPIC!CALYPSO AHEAD
Calypso is extremely fascinating to me, because although she’s one of the characters I sympathize the most with and I strongly enjoy reading about her, if she were a real person I’m afraid she would likely end up with a one-way ticket to hell.
Now, most people in the fandom agree that she’s far from a good person. However, I do not believe she is evil incarnate, nor is she an innocent victim of her circumstances.
Now, Calypso has known one thing all her life:
She is alone.
Let me make this clear.
She is completely alone. For hundreds of years, she’s never had a conversation. Never had someone to help her. Never laughed with somebody. Never had someone smile at her. She’s never even made eye contact with anyone.
So, when someone washes up on her shore, she’s ecstatic.
This changes everything.
It’s every single one of her dreams wrapped up into one person.
After what is most likely days of fantasizing about her future life and caring for the unconscious man, he wakes up.
And says he’s married and threatens her life.
Of course, she could let him go.
But this is also her only chance.
She has no idea if she’ll ever see another person again.
Let that sink in.
She’s a goddess.
She’s immortal.
She could be alone for the rest of eternity until time itself ends.
Of course she's desperate for him to stay.
Now, is any of that an excuse for what she did? Of course not.
But in letting him go, she would be sacrificing her happiness for all of eternity.
I’ll leave it up to the reader to decide what you personally would choose in that situation.
Now, fast forward seven years. In epic specifically, we have no idea how she treated him.
She could have kept him in a cage, or she could have given him everything he’s ever wanted and we would have no idea.
However, we do know two very important things that we learn from Love in paradise.
1. Odysseus is not happy and actively begs to go home.
2. Calypso is doing everything in her power to keep him there.
Even in the ending part of love in paradise where Odysseus is on the cliff (which I personally believe is when we truly see things from Odysseus’s perspective, but that’s a discussion for another time), Calypso is calmly trying to get him to stay.
And how does she do that?
By literally and figuratively taking the place of everyone he’s ever loved in his life.
Now, this is a horrific thing to try and do. Hopefully I don’t need to explain why knowingly isolating someone and using their trauma as a tool to get them to love you is not a good thing.
But I personally believe Calypso thought she was doing the right thing.
Why? Because from her perspective, she loves him. She is his support system.
In other words, she and her love is the paradise he needs to come back to.
And if she has to play dirty to get him to come back, so be it.
in Not sorry for loving you, many are confused on whether or not calypso is genuinely apologizing or simply manipulating him.
I believe it’s both.
She likely feels some level of guilt for what she put odysseus through. She knows that she is selfish. But from her perspective, she had no other choice if she wanted to keep her sanity intact.
And maybe some part of her doesn’t want to face the consequences of her actions no matter how fair she knows they are.
So in the same breath as her apology, she throws out a last ditch effort to guilt him into staying.
She tells her tale. She pours her heart out. She gives him everything she has.
But it’s not enough.
In the same song, Odysseus says he loves her, “But not in the way [she] wants him too.”
This interests me greatly. After all, just one song ago he was clearly unhappy being with her. Is he lying? Did Calypso somehow get him to love her in just one song? Is he being manipulated?
I personally believe he’s telling the truth.
He does love her.
But instead of taking the obvious interpretation of the line that he only loves her platonically, I believe this means he loves her because she is all he has.
He’s lonely, and he hasn’t seen his wife in nearly 20 years. If he completely avoided calypso, he would be just like she was before he came.
Alone.
So if Odysseus began to feel something besides hatred when he looked at his captor, is he really to blame?
Does prometheus occasionally to look forward to the eagle’s visits, for it means that for a brief moment he is not abandoned?
I guess you could call it Stockholm syndrome, what I’m describing.
But Odysseus did not have such words to describe the way he felt.
He only knew that as Calypso’s tears mixed with the ocean he was about to sail on, he forced aside the part of him that wished to dry them.
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thewritersaddictions · 1 year ago
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Day Nine: Billy Butcher + Stripping/Lacatation
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Your belly made it hard to see things as you walked or even just sat down on the couch. Your feet completly covered by the round belly proturding out. At this point you were seven months in to your first pregnancy with Billy.
He loved you unconditional, and you loved him that same way. With every error, or hard thing that might have happened to your relationship you were always there for each other.
The idea child came after at your suggest you did years of fostering. Many child had come and lived with the two of you and as those years went on you saw a rather wonderful, caring side of Billy that you were very excited to see. It wasn't something he didn't show you, just the caring, kind side of him made your heart melt and get you all giddy.
Regardless you were in your third trimenster, and everything hurt you were hot all the fucking time. You had been reading almost every single book about the third trimester. Unlike what they said your sex drive hadn't fallen.
Your sex drive had only increased. You yearned for Billy's rough callused handsto drag down your skin. Yearning for the feeling of Billy slipping right back into your pussy. That thoughts had been running through your head for the past few days. You hadn't seen Billy something about needing to go on business.
But now you as you heard the garage door open, the car drive in and the key jingle in the lock. Your thighs rubbed together with antipiaction.
"Hello love." Billy voice slurred in. He was drunk, not to far gone for you to launch yourself on him. You waited, really you weren't able to move. That's why you waited. "Babe, where are at?" He yelled, "Living room." You yelled back.
Heavy boots landed on the hardwoods floors, and the hooded eyes that landed on you. Black eye that are all consuming. You opted that night for a loose white robe and unaware of Billy drunkness you wore nothing underneath it.
"Well Fuck aren't you such a beaut." Billy muttered. I watched as he clusimly tried to untie his boots, and take off his jacket. Sure he smelt of bourbon, but I didn't really care. "You look so good laying there." Billy muttered as he sat down next to you. You giggle and lbushed at his words.
Even though your ankles were swollen, and you were mostly unkept. You let Billy's words go to your head. Then his callused hands were on your hot body. Cold in contrast to your hot body. Not only were you overly hot all of the time, but you were also very sensitive.
When Billy's lips touched your jaw shivers went down your body. It didn't take long for Billy's hand to come raking up your body, and shift you so fast you felt so pressure on your body. Within a matter of seconds you were on your hands and knees facing away from Billy.
"Fuck, and no panties. What a fuckin' dirty girl." He mutters agasint your skin, and then the sound of his trouser zipper falling down. The seconds the tip of his cock hits your wet pussy moans come falling out of your mouth. You hadn't felt his cock in such a long time. "So fuckin' tight love." Billy groaned out as he thursted harder into your pussy. The harder Billy thursted the more he needed to hold on to you.
He grabbed your tits, hard and with the motion of squeezing and tugging. You weren't even thinking, not until Billy was groaning and laughing behind you. "Look down baby girl." He commanded you, and when you did your cheeks went red with lust, and embrassement.
"Look at you leaking all over the couch, makin' such a mess for me." Billy groaned out as his thursts began to get harder. "So tight whenever I tug on your tits like this. Fuck I bet I can fuck another baby into ya." Billy accent was sending ripples down your body. Finally his words, and thurst started to slow.
The slap of skin, groaning, and moaning was all that filled the room. Finally the edge came like the end of a waterfall. Everything all at once felt like heaven, and you were floating on cloud nine.
Billy made sure not to put all his weight on you, and he brought you up and into his lap.
Hot, sticky, and over filled with contentment.
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Completed on: 06/27/23
Posted on: 10/09/23
Kinktober 23- @lanad3lreyscokewhor3 @homelanderscumdump @hummusxx@chvnsdimple @vvitzvafflezvv @lokisivy @claud-blood0703 @iliketoreads-stuff @all-that-glitters-is-treasure@clearscissorsbonkgiant-blog @lxonix--ac @piecesofx @mortallyswimmingpainter @playwithfire99 @fucak @everythingneytiri @lovetheos @xxxxxoseungxoooo @durazopato @hotpead42069 @oddseabiscuit @capoda @witching-hour @viviwows @lover103 @alexlovesfiction @katiecat10 @electricfans @jianasmind @max-505 @powerbun21o @the-horny-simp @missy420-0 @jaq-dav @arescosplays
The Boys Master List // The Anti-Hero Master List // Kinktober '23
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sweatervest-obsessed · 9 months ago
Text
You
pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
wc: 1.8k
cw: oh death babes, depression, mentions of drugs, mentions of ODs, gun violence, blood, four out of the five stages of grief (there’s no acceptance here)
a/n: Guys, I was feeling something, and spewed this out. Enjoy the pure grief and pain I just poured out onto a page. Also spot the little references throughout hehe. 
Spencer Reid Masterlist
“Spence, you did everything you could. It’s not your fault.” 
He shook his head and pressed you up against his chest, ignoring the blood seeping into his pants, his vest, his hands. 
“You can’t—hey, hey, hey, look at me. Y/n, please.” His voice cracked on his plea as the two of you crumpled to the ground. He screamed out for a medic as he cradled your body against him. 
Your eyes floated in and out of consciousness, focusing on him when they could. “We knew this was going to happen eventually.”
“N-No.”
“I-I…I love you…” Your chest heaved up and down. 
“Stop it. Stop.” 
“So….much….” 
Spencer just shook his head and yelled at his team to do something, but they all stood back, none of them wanting to ruin the goodbye he never got to say. 
Spencer snapped into focus, realizing he was sitting on the jet, staring out the window. There was no one sitting next to him, they had all taken the physical seats, leaving him to the couch. And while this was nothing out of the norm, the only difference was that you weren’t sitting on the couch facing back at him. 
Spencer was alone, in his head, and on the couch. 
Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n passed away on May 17th, at the young age of thirty. She had been an agent of the FBI for over seven years, and a member of the BAU for almost five. She had become an integral part of the FBI and was a valued member of the BAU. She was survived by her fiancé Doctor Spencer Reid, her mother and father, her younger brother and sister, as well as two nieces and one nephew. 
Spencer thought about you every single day. 
He would think about you when he went to make his coffee, adding a scoop of sugar since that’s how you took yours. He thought about you when he took the train into work, listening to songs that you loved, over and over and over. He thought about you when he would sit alone on the jet, trying to ignore all of the pitiful stares as everyone tried not to take your spot on the couch. 
He liked to replay your death over and over and over, making it so that he was in the other car, he was onsight to say goodbye to you. 
Derek told him that you waited for as long as you could. 
Spencer didn’t know if that was comforting, knowing you willingly suffered longer than you needed to, just to see him one last time. But it was in vain since you died two minutes and forty-seven seconds before the car arrived. 
In his head, he was the one who held you, who told you how much you were loved and adored, and maybe that could’ve made you stay. 
It wasn’t Derek holding you as you choked on your own blood, watching you struggle to survive long enough. It wasn’t Derek holding you telling you to breathe and just let go. It wasn’t Derek being the last person to hear your voice. 
Tell him that I’m s-so sorry, and I-I...love him...so. Much.
Spencer realized about a month after the funeral, that he never saw your wedding dress. You were about seven months away from your wedding when you died, but you had been engaged for over a year. 
Emily, Penelope, and JJ have the pictures, but he couldn’t bring himself to see you in something that was supposed to signify your forever, when instead it was cut short by an ambush and the carelessness of the local cops. 
Apparently, it was perfect. But Spencer didn’t have perfect. He wasn’t lucky enough to have perfect. He wasn’t privileged enough to even be allowed to think about perfection. 
The anger would take over after thinking about it for too long. He always found himself angry with you for leaving him—abandoning him. How selfish could you be? Spencer believed he wasn’t worthy of you, he never had. You’d always take your lunch breaks with him, so he always had someone to sit with since he told you about how he would eat alone when he was younger. Every time he’d come in with his tie crooked or his hair a mess, you would casually let him know. Eventually, when you worked up the courage to kiss him one night, you just started fixing it for him. Every morning you’d make him coffee as you both got ready for the day. You’d leave him little notes hidden in his desk, in his pillowcase, in his wallet, in his pockets.
It didn't take anything to make him think about you, but when he reached into the pocket of his jacket to find his phone as he got onto the plane, he found one. 
Hello Darling,          I hope today is a good day for you. You deserve         good things Spence. I hope you one day believe        it as much as I know it to be true     With all the love in my heart,             Future Mrs Doctor Spencer Reid P.S. you owe me the dishes tonight…
It shattered what little resolve he had left this morning, causing him to sit alone, on the couch, the note pressed against his lips as he stared out the windows of the plane. 
It was ironic that the one good thing he had left in the world was suddenly gone, and how you leaving made him feel as though he deserved nothing. The Bureau gave him a maximum of six months off--Grief Leave, they called it. But he ended up getting restless around month four, asking Hotch if he could come back periodically. That was how JJ found out that Spencer had been sleeping on the couch, unable to bring himself to sleep in a bed made for the two of you when there was only one left. 
It’s also how JJ found out that Spencer had relapsed. 
She had been the one to find him on the bathroom floor, exactly four months after your funeral. And Spencer fucking hated her for it. He couldn't stand to be stuck in your shared apartment alone, but he couldn't bring himself to just abandon the last place he held you. He kept asking JJ why she would keep the two of you apart? Two souls that were meant to forever be intertwined suddenly ripped apart. It felt like some sort of cruel joke. 
But he didn’t use after that. One and Done, as he stated to Garcia over the phone one night while at a rehab. They let him out a week and a half later since they couldn’t prove he was a harm to himself anymore.
The team would take their turns, making Spencer feel as though he was twenty-three again. They would watch him, as they felt obligated to babysit him. Made him feel more like his friendships were chores than acts of love. Spencer didn’t feel much love anymore, only pity. 
Spencer looked over as Derek cleared his throat, silently asking if he could sit down, in your spot. He nodded once, an invitation he wasn’t really in the mood to repeat. 
The plane ride was going to be a long one, six hours. And Spencer had only been overthinking everything for only one of them. 
“You found another one.” Not a question, an observation. 
Reid nodded, his gaze had shifted back to the window, the clouds, the slight rain streaking horizontally across the sky as they flew. 
 You loved the rain. It was refreshing, something cleansing. Rebirth, as you would say. 
It gives you a new beginning everytime it rains, which is extremely kind of the universe considering how many times we manage to fuck up. 
Spencer had once laughed at that, listening to you rant on about the perks and importance of rain. But now? He fucked hated it. He saw glimpses of you in every rain drop, reflecting you millions of times, and he would hear your laugh every time it thundered, taking up as much space as deserved and echoing through your now empty home.
It rained for a week straight after you died. The world weeped at the loss of your soul. Spencer couldn’t tell if it was a cruel joke from the universe, or if it was you trying to tell him to try out that whole “rebirth thing”. 
Either way, he didn’t enjoy it as much as you would have. 
“Even when she’s not…” Spencer closed his eyes and swallowed the words, still unable to say them outloud. “She still manages to, uh, render me speechless.” 
Your favorite pastime was getting Doctor Spencer Reid to become speechless. You learned how to play chess, without his knowledge, and managed to beat him the first time you played. At some point, you had learned enough Russian to go and see one of those movies he enjoyed so much, even though he knew that deep down the whole thing was not remotely in your wheelhouse. The team had never heard Spencer go as quiet as often as he did when you were around. 
Except for now. Spencer would state a fact, make an observation, point out something the team was missing, and that was it. He never spoke more than a few sentences at a time. Gone were the days of rants and backstory and additional context, that you always argued were important. No one listened to Spencer like you did. Instead, now, the world settled into an uncomfortable silence where laughter and rambling and teasing should have been. 
“She’s good like that.” Derek looked down at his hands. The two of them barely spoke. Spencer knew that Derek could still see your breath stop when he closed his eyes. Derek once drunkenly told him that sometimes, he could still see your blood over his hands–He couldn’t wash it out with water, so some nights he’d wash it out with whiskey, or bourbon, or scotch, anything to make the stains go away. 
The two of them looked at one another before opting to not say anything further, at risk of causing them both even more grief at the subject of you. 
I swear Spence, it’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. I know you will.
It was funny to him that in his day dream, you always ended up comforting him. You always ended up being the one to make sure he was okay before you died. 
I love you so much Spence. 
And he would just whisper how much he loved you back, hoping to any god that somewhere, somehow, you could hear him. You could hear his misery and come back, having pranked him. He’d forgive you, if you came back. 
But instead, while he thought about you at 43,894 feet above the earth, you lay six feet under, permanently grounded. 
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moondance-r · 1 month ago
Text
SAGAU-adjacent not-Creator Creator 3
Summary: You knew, viscerally down to your bones, that you did not create this world; Teyvat had no grand creator, no single hand designing its wonders. It did, however, have something of a catalytic agent, without which it would not exist.
You.
[Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]
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The next morning, Diluc accompanied you on your way to Liyue Harbor. According to him, he had business at Wangshu Inn, but by your experiences in Mondstadt thus far he was probably actually there to escort you. Frankly, you would take it. You knew zealots could go to extreme lengths for the sake of their beliefs, and this world was full of them. If always having a bodyguard at your side was the price, that was getting off lightly, in your opinion.
Two days of meandering brought you through the Stone Gate and to the outer edges of Dihua Marsh. A Statue of Seven stood prominently beside the road, this one bearing the visage of a handsome man sprawled on a throne and holding a cube aloft. It, too, called to you.
Diluc watched in confusion as you approached it. As before, you laid a hand on it -- and as before, the world expanded in your mind. You became aware of every pebble beneath your feet, every boulder perched atop cliffs, every inch of Liyue’s land was waiting to be discovered if only you would turn your attention.
Pulling back, you repeatedly clenched a hand as you considered your power reserves. A bit less than a third, you thought, which matched your expectations if this was the second of seven local gods. Five to go until you regained your full power.
Seven Archons, seven statues. Seven portions of your power.
It wasn’t as if you strictly needed to retrieve your power from the statues since you could just wait a few millennia for it to regenerate within you, but you had already planned to go to Sumeru and thus Liyue. That was three out of seven nations, you might as well complete the set.
You looked around. No Archon came to greet you as Venti did.
“Your Grace?”
“Who is Liyue’s Archon?” you asked.
“It was previously Morax, however, he passed away the year before last. Liyue currently has no Archon,” Diluc promptly answered.
And yet the ley lines weren’t scarred, as they would be if a god died. Curious. You considered the question for a moment before putting it aside. Despite what Mondstadt’s people had expressed, you weren’t the reigning god of Teyvat and had no authority over how its people wanted to live. If the Geo Archon wanted to hide for whatever reason, that was his choice.
“Let’s keep going,” you said, shading your eyes as you looked towards the setting sun, “I don’t want to sleep in a marsh.”
Wangshu Inn was an impressive construction built around a tree bigger than the one at Windrise, and thankfully there was a mechanical lift so you didn’t have to trek up the many, many (many) stairs. It was also good that Diluc knew the proprietress, Verr Goldet, well, and could vouch for you because you suddenly realised that you had no local currency. You were, to put it bluntly, penniless.
...In your defence, mora didn’t exist when you first came to Teyvat and no one asked you to pay for anything in Mondstadt. Honestly, you were surprised this hadn’t become an issue earlier.
But your accommodation was secured despite your bankruptcy.
As you walked up the stairs to your room, you wondered how to word your request. Finally, in the hallways, you called out to Diluc. He turned to you attentively.
“Thank you for your company these past few days, really,” you told him, neatly sidestepping his actual purpose here, “but I’m sure you have better things to do than traipsing around the wilderness with me.”
He frowned almost imperceptibly. “You are far more important than anything else,” he protested, but you shook your head.
“I can tell that you’ve put a lot of work into your winery as well as Mondstadt, it would be a shame if they decline,” you said. He still looked mutinous, so you went in for the kill. You leaned in. “Those Liberation casks you opened for me tasted divine,” you confided, “can you make sure they’re of equally high quality the next time I visit?”
At this, Diluc seemed to, somehow, simultaneously droop and straighten. “Your wish is my command,” he stated resolutely.
Mission accomplished!
You promised to have breakfast with him the next day which appeased him much better.
You opened the door to your room and immediately jumped. There, waiting for you on the balcony, was a green-haired young man with resentment clinging to his aura. Distantly, you could feel Geo struggling to reach you through the great height to thrum, Alatus, golden-winged peng, Anemo, Yaksha, bound to the Lord of Geo.
He too carried a wisp of your power locked away within a bauble, this one attached to his glove.
You were accustomed to Teyvat informing you of its favoured Vision-holders by now, so you were confident in your address when you closed the door and called out, “Alatus.”
He dropped to his knees almost instantly. “Your Grace the Overseer,” he greeted reverently.
Another zealot. You held in a sigh. “Get up, please. Why are you here?”
He seemed to almost shuffle in place, looking distinctly ruffled, before rising to his feet and settling into a posture you had seen in more than one military during your travels. With his back straight and arms stiffly at his sides, he reminded you of nothing more than a product for inspection. “Emperor of All, Forge of Days, it is this one’s pleasure to welcome You to this land. One is pleased to report that Liyue prospers under Your benevolent gaze. If it would please Your Imperial Majesty, the adepti and mortals of Liyue are in the midst of preparations for a grand feat to celebrate Your arrival.”
‘In the midst’, he said. That explained all the activity you detected towards the south. Alatus continued while you fell into brief thought.
“We await only Your immortal presence,” he concluded in a rush.
However, you shook your head. “It’s late, and I’ve agreed to have breakfast with Diluc.” You smiled to soften the blow. “Another time, perhaps?”
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Taglist: @fantasyhopperhea // @silverstar56 // @lexal-amber-rose // @noblessejjk // @neo-meta 
Interact with this post here if you’d like to be added to the taglist.
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dreadsuitsamus · 2 months ago
Text
First | Choso Kamo x Reader |
author's note: this is a sequel to that small first kiss imagine i wrote a while back, and i've finally found the steam to wrap it up! i love this guy 🩷
pairing: choso kamo x fem!reader
warnings: nsfw, explicit smut, fingering, dry humping, friends to lovers
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Frost nips at Choso’s delicate little nose as he has a cigarette out on the balcony, his habit uncaring about the weather conditions being less than stellar. It’s cold, though not snowing at least. His dark hair is down, the ends tickling the back of his neck while a beanie covers the top of his head and ears, keeping him as warm as possible in this thirty degree weather. Shooting a gaze over his shoulder as he blows the smoke with the direction of the wind, he peeks inside of the window to see if you’re ready yet, but the living room is still empty. So, with his question answered, he turns back around and looks to the sky.
It’s been a handful of weeks since he first kissed you, and he’s kept his word: a kiss every single day, and usually more than once a day at that. And naturally, as one would hope with frequent make-outs, things have progressed a bit beyond two friends just kissing to heal old wounds. You’ve been friends for quite a long time by now, and it’s been so easy to transition to this budding romance, the expected awkwardness and general weirdness you thought would appear not existing at all. Choso puts out the cigarette and discards it with a flick to the busy city street far below him, climbing back into your apartment and shrugging the hefty coat off of his strong, broad shoulders once he’s closed the window.
“Oi!” He comes to tap his knuckle against your closed bedroom door. “We still gotta get a cab, babe, come on! We’re gonna miss our reservations.”
“I don’t know what to wear!” Your voice wails from behind the wooden barrier between you and Cho, and he sighs. He’s not sure why he didn’t expect this of you, as you’ve historically always been the late one in your friend group.
“Whatever you wear is gonna look great!” Choso pouts and leans against the wall. You’re not convinced, though, and you look between the two dresses laid out on your bed. It’s your first date with Cho, and despite knowing him for over seven years, you’re as nervous as you’d be on a blind date with a proper stranger. You’re treading a line finer than the baby hairs at the back of your neck, after all, and on the line is something too precious to lose.
But also on the line stands the chance for a relationship that could flourish into the best thing you’ve ever had. Frankly, there should probably be more butterflies rumbling in your tummy!
Moving to the bedroom door and pulling it open to see your dear friend, you take his large hand in yours and tug. Happy to be dragged anywhere you take him, especially into your lair as you’re half-naked under that little silk robe, Choso easily follows your lead. He doesn’t hide his sneaky little grin well, and you bat his arm with a laugh, warmth withering the nerves away with the comfort that, at least, he thinks you're hot. Cho’s the same as he’s always been, after all, and the reminder melts the tension from your shoulders. “You’re dating me now and still acting like this?”
“Am I supposed to stop?” He murmurs, tugging his beanie off and threading those long fingers through the chocolatey locks, fluffing it up a bit and then smoothing it out.
“I hope not.” Sinking your teeth into your lip, you pick up your two best dresses, holding them up and turning to Choso. “So, which one do you think would look good?”
His amber eyes don’t linger on either choice and instead scan that skimpy lilac robe that hardly reaches your mid-thigh, his hands closing into tight fists while his Adam's apple bobs steadily. He’s always thought of you as attractive, no doubt, and that’s why he kissed you on that sweet night your friend group passed around first kiss stories. You deserved an amazing first kiss and Choso wanted nothing more than to be that for you, to erase the memories of that dreadful man you gave your all to. His intentions aren’t all pure, however, and he hopes to God you can’t sense it.
He would kill your ex if given the chance. How dare that bastard take and take every ounce of your spirit, crushing you beneath the weight of his impossible expectations, carelessness and general assholery? Choso’s made it more than his personal mission to wipe out every memory, heal each scar and destroy any and all lingering ideas of doubting what you deserve. You should be loved, adored, cherished…
And fucked absolutely senseless.
If your first kiss was no good, your first time couldn’t have been halfway decent either. And he hasn’t wanted to admit it, he wants to be good and proper and show you what a gentleman is like… But every night it claws at him knowing that you’ve never been shown a good time. Knowing that your beautiful body was never worshipped, never adored and doted on or prioritized at all kills him. He should take it slow like he planned, he knows. It’s what you deserve!
But he’s going absolutely mad at the sight of you now and frankly, it shows; your chest flips at the look in those warm, hungry, honey-hued eyes. “Cho?” Your voice, so soft and pretty, quickly jolts him back to his senses. Shaking his head as if to knock the naughty thoughts from his brain, Choso takes a proper look at each dress you’re holding.
“Uh… They’re both… nice.” One has a plunging neckline and the other one is so short he’s not completely sure it’ll cover your ass! Why don't you just write ‘tease’ clear as day on your forehead while you're at it? Not to mention, it's thirty fucking degrees outside and he's not looking forward to giving up his coat when you get cold!
“Just nice?” With a defeated groan, the dresses are tossed onto the floor and you’re back to the drawing board in your closet, flipping through your array of sundresses, evening gowns, club outfits and more. Choso’s close behind as you walk away, a confused crease forming between his brows as he takes in just how packed this walk-in is. He could swear he’s seen you cycle through the same six or so outfits since he met you! How could you possibly have this many clothes?? 
Blinking himself out of the stupor, Cho places warm palms to your shoulders, rubbing a gentle massage into your skin. His touch is magical, and any other time would be quite soothing. But the nerves that line every inch of your body are just too frayed for a simple shoulder rub to cure this time. “Baby, it really doesn’t matter what you wear-”
“Of course it does! This is our first date!”
Okay, time to re-route.
Choso presses a kiss to your temple, hands gradually marking a path to your hips, taking the scenic route and enjoying a few selfish squeezes along the way. With soft lips at your ear, you shiver at how Choso touches you. This relationship— situationship?— is still fragile and fresher than a newborn baby, and while the kissing is plentiful, that's about as far as it really gets.
“Relax...” Cho murmurs quietly, squeezing your hips and rubbing at your rear. “Breathe, baby. It's all okay.”
Melting like butter, Choso’s touches light your eyes with lust and, dragging your wet tongue along your glossed lips as a soft moan passes by, you fall easily into his embrace. “Cho…”
With a trail of kisses smattering your neck and shoulders, Choso coos. “You could wear a paper bag and I’d still be fighting off all the other men in the room. And all the other girls could be naked and I'm still only gonna be able to see you. I mean it, babe. You're just that perfect.”
“... What if I wore nothing?”
Choso kisses a spot he's not sure he's touched yet. “Then we'd both be in jail, but my sentence would be a lot longer than yours.” Murder is, after all, a bit more than a frowned upon misdemeanor.
“And what if you wore nothing with me?”
A small smile is hidden into your skin, Choso's lips pressing insistently to your neck as his large hands come to pull at the knot at the front of your robe. “Then I think we're missing our reservations tonight.”
You're leaned back against him fully now, head rolling off to the side to allow him more unbridled access to the column of your throat. “Who likes that restaurant anyway?”
“You're right.” Sharp teeth nip gleefully alongside a low chuckle. “What's another six week waiting list, hm?” Your robe slips from your shoulders after a light, insisting tug at it by the small of your back. By the time it's pooled at your ankles, the silky fabric cool on your skin, Choso’s hands have resumed their exploration of your body.
His hands are cold still from his smoke break, which sends goosebumps down your delicious body wherever he touches you. His mouth, hot and minty with a tinge of cigarette, plants a kiss on the shell of your ear, his low voice whispering against you in a way that lights the rest of your body up.
“You’re so pretty.”
Your nipples, covered by a pretty pink bra with strawberries on them, peak as your cunt is struck with a lick of lust; you never dreamed before that Choso would be one to make you feel this way. He's always been just a friend, a guy you never really realized even had a penis, let alone one you'd like to see and touch and more.
How time changes things!
You turn in his arms, pushing up onto your tiptoes into a desperate kiss, one that nearly sends Choso off of his feet as your dalliance moves from the closet and to the bed. Boldness strikes him and he's turning your back to the bed, the edge of the mattress knocking the back of your knees before you're guided down, Choso’s large hands holding your figure tenderly.
“Can I touch you?” He murmurs, hands completely still despite his lust swelling below the belt and beneath his ribcage. Even with the general flirting, kissing and touching going on, to make the true transition of friend into boyfriend is a heavy step, one he doesn't want taken back.
Adoration-fueled goosebumps scatter your body, the tingling feeling in your breast and thighs meeting in the middle for a warm flooding of your tummy. Cho is so delicate, so thoughtful and considerate… It makes your desire for him triple in the single blink of an eye.
“Please.” His whisper is more urgent now, a frenzy building behind warm, amber eyes. He'll certainly stop if you command him so, but you couldn't dream of doing so now.
Your fingertips brush against the strong, solid line of his jaw, feeling his smooth, pale-toned skin. “Yes. Everywhere.”
Choso’s lips crash onto yours immediately, greedily having a fill of your sweet, pretty lips as the pads of his fingertips graze your body, massaging small circles into the warm, electrified flesh of your hips. The thin line of your panties taunts him, that and his own clothes reminding him of how far away he really is from you.
“Choso.” You murmur at his short hesitation, playing with the little hairs at the back of his neck. It soothes him, as intended, and he presses a sweet kiss to your cheek while dipping his thumbs below the band of your skimpy underwear, toying with the fabric before running his hands up your beautiful curves and carefully removing the thin bralette to see your breasts, bare and beautiful for the first time.
Choso’s mouth, hot and honeyed with his wanton saliva, glazes over one of your gorgeous, pert nipples. A shiver trembles down your spine and a soft little moan passes your lips as his tongue swirls and lips suck, and the encouragement is enough for him to slowly dip his hand beneath your panties, those long fingers finding a hot, sticky mess to play with.
The feeling of your juicy cunt on his hand, the way your pretty little clit hides between the succulent lips of your pussy… It makes Choso harder than he's ever been. A harsh shiver overtakes him as his fingers lather in your sweetness, two of them carefully dipping inside of your hole.
“Holy fuck…” His warm breath fans over your breast, his forehead resting against you while he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you. The way your walls just suck him in, so greedily, so warm and inviting and… and god he can't believe how hard he is. “You're so perfect…”
Heat fills your entire face at his admission. All he's done is for your pleasure, yet he's panting and groaning like you're the one touching him. Is it really possible for a man to feel pleasure from giving, rather than receiving?
With the way that rod in his jeans pokes at your leg, it must be.
“Cho, you feel so good…” Your face buries into his hair, the dark chocolate locks smelling of strawberries. He never did seem like the type to buy the “manly” ten-in-one types.
“No, you do.” Choso presses a sweet kiss to your collarbone, urging his long fingers deeper inside of your core, spreading your sticky, thick nectar over his digits. He relishes the feeling, the way your pussy grips him and asks for more and more and more. And he gives it to you, finger-fucking you faster and filling the room with raunchy squelches, the addicting sounds only urging him even further.
“So good… Pretty pussy, sweet pussy…” It's as if he's drunk, intoxicated on you and all you're giving him. He slips a third finger inside of you, gentle in stretching you open to accommodate the girth of the three fingers together. All he wants is to feel you, simply just can't get enough of you around him.
“Ch-Choso, fuck, mmmmmmmm fuck!” He's hitting all the right spots so perfectly, prodding the spongy spot inside. “I-I’m close, honey, so close…”
Sharp teeth sink into the curve of your breast, quiet growls muffled into the flesh. You're so close, and he's going to get you there, all over his hand. He needs it, you need it, god he needs it…
Your back nearly snaps as you shoot up into an arch, cumming harshly and moaning loud enough to piss off the neighbors, who also happen to be your friends, though once Nobara is past the interruption of her beauty sleep she'll surely be joining Yuji in giggling about it.
Choso's rutting relentlessly now, withdrawing his fingers from your cunt and to his mouth, moaning as he licks and sucks every ounce of your essence from his digits. This man, your friend— boyfriend, is dry humping your bed while suckling his own fingers that are drenched in your taste, getting off on pure you…
He's absolutely perfect.
Pulling his hand from his mouth, you cup his strong jaw and pull him up for a kiss, and he adjusts himself between your legs, the tinkle of his belt buckle the only thing keeping you in the moment enough to realize he's shoving his pants and boxers to his knees, that lovely cock (that you had no idea he was packing below that belt) springing up against his stomach before he lays back down, his hot cock leaking against your ruined panties as he ruts.
His large hands rest on either side of you, holding him up so he's not pinning his weight down and crushing you, and you play with his hair as he comes closer to orgasm. The bedspread is bunched into his fists as he crests, his lips no longer able to cooperate with yours as beautiful, hot, sticky ropes of thick, white cum burst from his purpled tip, covering your lower belly and panties in his seed, all whilst groaning entirely unintelligible babble.
This is the first time in your entire life that you've felt so sexy and desirable, and the warmth in your chest blooms into a strong heat, a flame of love and adoration that may never burn out.
Choso falls to the left of you, his chest heaving while he gathers himself. He glances your direction, and with a bit of an embarrassed smile, he slips his hand into yours, squeezing warmly.
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