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xervn · 10 months ago

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like a french girl 🎨

part 3 - french girl | art major ellie x dance major reader

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ao3 link

summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you.

18+ MDNI | 3.8k words | slow burn(?), mutual pining, loser ellie, recreational drug use (weed)

a/n: this took so long because im an intp AND a taurus *makes excuses for myself* also tysm to everyone who commented on the last chapter ur amazing and ily ♥

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Ellie’s in nothing but her underwear, legs criss-crossed on her navy comforter; holding a joint between her lips as she tunes the strings of her maple wood guitar. It’s a lazy Saturday, the one day out of seven where Ellie isn’t constantly tormented by homework and art projects.

These days are practically therapeutic for her. Being able to strum her fingers against the nylon strings and relish in the relaxing, skunky smell of cannabis can fix all of her problems. Minus one, of course: getting to know you better.

For now, she’s at peace with doing nothing, that is until a loud ding goes off and the brightness of her phone flashbangs her otherwise dim-lit room. She scowls, exhaling a puff from her lungs as she reaches over for the device. Ellie has friends, but she’s no social butterfly. Her phone is usually dry, especially on weekends. Jesse is definitely with Dina, so unless it's serious; there’s no reason for her to be getting a text.

Naturally, her scowl deepens when she reads that the number is unknown.

???: hii

ellie: wrong number

She opts to toss her phone away, but the next message throws her off track.

you: it’s — !

Ellie’s eyes widen at her screen like your name is a hypnotic spiral. She can feel her heart swelling well within her chest, and she’s left wondering if the weed she’s smoking is laced or if she somehow manifested you. Ellie quickly transfers her blunt in one hand and her phone in the other, straining her thumb trying to type as fast as she can to you.

ellie: oh hdy!

ellie: hey*

you: dina gave me ur number, i hope that’s okay

ellie: yeah ofc it is :-)

ellie: i was planning on giving it to you

Ellie typed that half-lie slowly, weighing how true it really was as she pressed send. It was on her plan of things she’d like to do before dying, but even then she doesn’t think she would ever gain the courage.

you: oh thank god

you: i thought i might be intruding 🙁

ellie: never, what’s up?

you: can i ask you something?

ellie: yes of course aks me anythign

ellie: ask* anything* shut sorry

ellie: SHIT

you: lmao are you okay??

ellie: yeah… forget about that, ask away

you: well i was wondering if you could help me study? im failing my anatomy class..

you: if u can’t it’s okay though!

A sheepish grin spreads across Ellie’s face, as she thinks about all the scenarios that could lead to. To think she’d finally have an excuse to see you after weeks of hoping, of praying for the opportunity. You asked her for help instead of taking other options, especially considering how much easier it would’ve been for you to.

ellie: its no problem, id be glad to help :-)

you: really?? ur a lifesaver els, tysmm

you: when are you free?

ellie: Right now.

ellie: or whenever .

you: let’s meet at the library in 20?

Almost instantly, Ellie’s excitement warps into anxiety. She wasn’t particularly ready to see you and twenty minutes doesn’t seem like nearly enough time to get her shit together. She thought you’d ignore her impulsive desperation of “right now” and set plans for a later date, but, alas, you didn’t.

Ellie rubs her forehead with her blunt holding hand, trying to scratch the itch of her worries away with just her pinky and thumb. Despite her increasing knowledge of you over the past few weeks, she was still incredibly nervous to be around you.

Ellie takes one final hit of her joint before snuffing it out in a doob tube on her nightstand. She sets her guitar against her bed and nearly falls off trying to get up in a rush, even though she has more than enough time to get ready.

She stumbles around the room to put something on, settling with a gray hoodie and a pair of jeans. She attempts to keep her balance as she hastily shoves each leg through her pants; simultaneously eyeing around her room in an attempt to remember where exactly she put her anatomy textbooks.

Ellie hears a familiar ding from her bed and she snaps towards it to pick up her phone, peering at the screen.

you: ellie?

Ellie curses under her breath, scolding herself for forgetting to text you back. She taps on the keyboard, quickly making sure she doesn’t manage another typo before hitting send.

ellie: sorry! yeah i’ll see you in twenty!

you: awesome :)

—

You weren’t ready to see Ellie either, you figured, since it took you hours to actually text her. You made up far-fetched scenarios with the worst outcomes; the one where she immediately deletes your number tormented you for quite a while. Now you’re trudging across campus to meet her, internally at war with your mixed emotions. On one hand you get to hang out with a cute girl and on the other you’re hanging out with a really cute girl. Alone. Zero friends around.

There’s a chance you two might not have anything to talk about. You guys are only mutual friends after all. Even if you guys somehow manage to start a conversation, what if she comes to not like you by the end of it, or vice versa? Not to mention the window incident you’re both hoping the other forgot.

You hesitate in your steps as you reach the library doors. It’d only take a few seconds to spin around and walk back, but how could you leave her there? You thoughtlessly chew on your lip, eyes worriedly shifting around.

You can’t recall any moment you’ve been so anxious about meeting up with a girl before. Not once, not even in a distant memory. You’ve always been the bolder one in your endeavors. The fact that Ellie is the only girl to make you feel this way has to mean something. You slowly pace in front of the doors in an attempt to dissipate your worries, nodding to your inner thoughts and ignoring the probable concerned stares in the distance. You’re the one who invited her, so you’re gonna stick it the fuck through. You couldn’t bail before testing the waters, you’d never forgive yourself.

So you barge into the building, letting the cool air hit your face from the swinging doors; granting you a waft of leather and drying ink. The building was decorated with freakishly tall dark wood bookshelves; so high, there were beige ladders in place to reach the top shelves. As expected, it was quiet, empty and definitely overfunded. Studying has never been your forte and you’ve never stepped in this building; save for a few dance history books. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case for everyone else. Thankfully, one pro definitely outweighs those cons. Ellie was going to help you study. Ellie is the reason you’re here at all.

You tidy up your outfit that you diligently put together and roam farther into the library, trying to hold down a smile that’s impossible to hold down. In fact, it completely takes over your face. You need to simmer down your giddiness before you start skipping around. You purse your lips and briefly steady your eyes on the dark, olive carpeted floor ahead of you.

You head towards the front desk that’s just a sunken step away with the intention of asking for directions to the study hall. An older lady is sitting there, glowering with obvious annoyance definitely because of your loud entry. It’s been ages since you’ve been in the library— your failing grade proves that— and clearly you’ve forgotten all the rules with it.

A flash of guilt passes through you and you force an apologetic smile. She returns it with a grunt and you immediately redirect yourself further into the library; aimlessly in search for the study hall.

You’ve been walking around for a solid five minutes and you swear you’ve passed the same fantasy section a million times now. It’d be smart to text Ellie and tell her you’ll be late, but your ego won’t let you.

The looming large, ornate bookshelves certainly don’t make it any easier for you to navigate around.

The question of why the school spent so much money on all this occupies your mind as you venture further. You make a turn around a corner you’ve definitely made before, and you sigh at the familiarity of the area in front of you.

You keep pressing forward anyway, hoping you can manage a new route this time around.

Before you can make another turn, you’re interrupted by drowned footsteps behind you blending into your own, followed by a tap on your shoulder. You flinch at the sudden touch, sharply turning around only to see Ellie looking at you with a downward smile.

“Lost?” She sarcastically presumes, her viridescent eyes taking in your shocked yet relieved expression.

You fiddle with the straps of your backpack between your fingers, shyly glancing around you. “No, I was just… looking for more textbooks.” You nod sagely at your own words, as if you’re trying to convince yourself too.

“Oh? Next to—“ The auburn-haired girl squints at the shelf behind you before adorning a wide grin, “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets?”

Your brows raise and you follow her eyes onto the obviously fiction-filled bookcase. “Uh, yeah? I’ve got Professor Snape at four.”

Ellie narrows her eyes at you in amused disbelief, trying not to laugh at your adorably dorky excuse.

Dramatically sighing in defeat, “Fuck, okay, you got me.” You say lowly, a bashful smile developing on your lips.

“You passed the study hall five times. I counted.” Ellie goads.

You partially suppress your laugh, mindlessly giving her arm a light smack. “Oh, my god. Don’t tell me that!”

She dotes on your laughter and your touch; whether it was intentional or not. Either way, she’s feeling good about herself now and her previous worries about this encounter floated away, and you could safely say the same.

“It’s a good book though, we can go back and get it. No need to be shy about it.” Ellie quips.

“Shush!”

—

With Ellie as your guide, the trip to the study hall was much easier than you made it out to be. You recognized the big glass windows you passed by often and when you stepped into it, you flushed with embarrassment. It was a direct contrast to the old-fashioned, mahogany colored library you’d been meandering around.

Ellie really could’ve counted the times you walked by, and she really did. The first time, she thought you must’ve seen a friend and left to catch up with them. However, the second time around she realized you might be lost.

She was going to text you and tell you to turn around, but she thought it was cute seeing you walk in circles, ignoring literally every sign in your way. By the fourth time, she could tell you thought you were in a time loop and she found it fucking hilarious. Someone like you, seemingly exceptional in everything but directions. The fifth time came and, of course, she decided she was being cruel and had to come help you herself.

Ellie leads you to the desk where she’s set camp at, and the amount of books and paperwork makes you dizzy. “Jesus, Els. Are you teaching me the entire course?”

She takes a seat before giving you an answer, “Well.. That depends on how bad you’re failing.”

You take a seat across from her, setting your backpack on the floor before resting your forearms on the oak table. “My teacher said I was dumb as fuck and essentially called me a homophobic slur.” You’re exaggerating, obviously, but that was exactly what it felt like.

Ellie scoffs out a sound, unsure of whether to laugh or be offended for you. “Damn... It’s Bill, isn’t it? God, that guy is a fuckin’ prick.” She questions, clearly unsurprised by his actions.

You sit upright in your chair, relief shining through your words, “Yes! Is that his thing?”

Ellie casually leans back, thinking back to when she was a student of his. “Oh, yeah. He’s a blunt guy, shitty filter,” She continues, and somehow you’re both meeting each other’s looks, “But he’s fair with his grades, n’ I know it doesn’t make it any better, but he has a husband. He’s just… old.. and grumpy.”

You try to consider that he is letting you retake a major grade. You guess you could appreciate that somewhat. “True... still, the comment was unprovoked. You must know him well though?”

“Yeah, I took his class last year. We were at each other's throats about coursework n’ shit. Really hard to reason with that guy.” Ellie purposely leaves out the part where she was being unreasonable too, but only for the sake of storytelling, of course. “Then that summer, I saw him at a family gathering.” She finishes off with a dramatic shiver in disgust and you laugh at how endearing it was.

“Anyways, his gaydar is somethin’ else. I can never tell.” She admits, carelessly waving a hand in the air. Ellie’s radar in particular is broken. Shattered, even. She can’t keep track of the amount of times she has stood in the shower, realizing a girl was flirting with her only days later.

“Even with me?”

“Even with you...” She speaks with artificial sadness and a slight sulk.

“Ouch… I’m wounded.” You fake a frown, slightly dropping your shoulders.

Ellie’s eyes fall to your nails; some suspiciously shorter than the others, and all painted in your favorite color. “But… that I know for sure, I can definitely tell.” Ellie comments.

A swarm of butterflies suddenly parade your belly, and you shine a coy smile her way. “They’re not short because of that…” Your half-hearted attempt to defend yourself drips in the lightness of your voice.

Ellie briefly raises her eyebrows with a sly smile plastered on her face, folding her arms over her chest; which, unbeknownst to you, was to shield how hard her heart was thumping. She’s shocked she hasn’t turned into a pile of mush yet, probably thanks to her smoke session earlier.

“I’m serious! I keep my hands to myself.” You continue on, putting in a little effort in your voice for your defense this time. For the most part it is true, lately your mind has been on Ellie, and Ellie only. The thought of random flings didn't excite you, but she did. However, it wasn’t not true that you’ve had a fair share of hookups. You’re in an art school, how could you not?

“C’mon, just yourself? I’m sure you've cared to share.” Ellie playfully pokes around you with her words; nonchalant and prone for a reaction.

Your jaw slightly drops, making your head tilt to the side incredulously. “Wow. What makes you think that?”

Ellie unfolds her tattooed arm to rub her palm against the back of her neck, responding unexpectedly timid, “Hey, ‘m not blind. I know you’re popular.”

You snicker at her explanation and shake your head. “They’re friends. You can be friends with girls even if you’re gay, Ellie.”

“Friends don’t touch you like that.” She notes with an uncharacteristically stern expression.

It surprises you for a second, but all it makes you wanna do is poke fun, tease her, and see where it’d go. “Like what?”

Ellie sighs, reluctantly explaining further, “Like they’ve touched you before.”

“Straight girls are touchy.” You shrug, purposefully ignoring what she tried to imply.

The way you said it so matter-of-factly makes Ellie’s eyes roll. “You know I don’t mean it like– ugh, my judgment is usually fucked up, but that? That I can tell the difference with.” Ellie states with surety.

You narrow your gaze at her, a teasing grin forming on your lips. “What are you jealous or something?”

“Of you or the girls?”

“Oh, the girls were an option?” You playfully remark, but also with honest curiosity in how she’d answer.

Ellie clears her throat and leans forward to place her textbooks into view, trying to hide the blush spreading across her features. She’s not doing a great job at it and you’d love to tease her some more, but you can settle with taking the win for now.

—

Night crept up faster than you both anticipated, the ambient sounds of paper printing and carts rolling by were no longer prevalent. The only thing filling the room is the buzz of the light fixture above and the words you two exchange. The table is cluttered with Ellie’s open notes and some textbooks with neon page markers poking out the sides. It wasn’t organized by any means, but it was a mess you both found easy to work around.

Surprisingly, Ellie is a great tutor. When she saw your paper, she didn’t make fun of you like you thought she would. Instead, she expressed how grating it is to remember all that crap and you shouldn’t give yourself a hard time over it.

To help you memorize the muscles of the body, you guys settled on one area and made up silly rhymes for it. She tried to argue that brachiosaurus was perfect for brachialis even though it didn’t even rhyme. You even gave her the chance to pick a different one, but then she said brachyceratops with a mockingly straight face and you knew she couldn’t be trusted for the task anymore.

The air between you two wasn’t stuffy or silent like you feared it’d be. Ellie made you laugh, not in the breathy forced way you’ve unknowingly gotten used to making.

She made sure you listened to her tips & tricks, made you review your mistakes so you wouldn’t repeat them again.

You hadn’t picked up your phone for anything other than to google things on the subject, and your ringer? Off. Your attention never strayed far from her. That made her undeniably nervous– sweaty, and hard for her to breathe normally, but she could acknowledge how well she was doing.

Ellie’s head is dipped down to a paper you two were working on and you’re openly ogling, wondering how she’d look in a pair of glasses. Flipping through papers, tapping the back of a pen on her inviting lips. You tell yourself you snap back to reality before your mind strays any further.

“If we keep this up, you’ll remember it all in no time” She encourages, eyes still glued on the paper. Secretly, she hopes it takes a little longer. Just a little.

“Thanks for helping me out, Els.” You say, face tilted into the palm of your hand.

Ellie looks up from the paper to give you a smile, but she doesn’t hold her gaze for long. A millisecond later and her blush would have you thinking she had a sudden, terrible fever.

“It’s no problem. It helps me out too.” Ellie points to the examples she sketched out for you with her pencil. She pauses before speaking again, trying to get rid of the sudden dryness in her mouth, “Can I ask you something?”

Studying her expectantly, you lift your head off your hand. “Yeah?”

Ellie fidgets with her pencil, trying to muster up courage. Her mouth feels dry trying to push out the words. “I’m also struggling with a class and uh,” she twirls her pencil in one hand, tucking a sliver of her hair behind her ear with the other, “I was wondering if you could be the model for my art final?” Her question came out whinier than she’d like it to, making her freckled-face wince.

You can sense how nervous she is about asking, but you can’t place your finger on why she ever would be. This is the first time anyone has ever asked you something like this, so in your mind it’s nothing but exciting, especially coming from her. You can already imagine yourself sitting prettily still while Ellie studies you and paints long, fancy strokes on a yellow canvas. “Ellie, are you kidding? I’d love to.”

Her lashes flutter in disbelief, “Really?”

“You’re helping me, so why not? It’s fair.”

“It’s kind of a weird thing to ask. I mean, we barely know each other.” Ellie murmurs, unaware that you have absolutely no idea what she’s on about.

You lift a brow at her. “We will eventually, right? What’s weird about a portrait anyways?”

“It’s not a portrait… Well, I guess it is–“ Ellie sighs into her palm, “I’m drawing you, but…” She cringes before she can finish her sentence.

“A portrait in pencil? What am l missing?” You slowly question.

“Think Titanic.” She grimaces as she waits for your reaction, trying not to bang her head on the table for picking Titanic of all movies.

“Titanic? What does that have to do with…” Your voice trails off, quieting down so you can process what Ellie said. Think Titanic. It's hard for you to connect what the 1997 romance movie had to with this, but when it connected, it connected. The infamous drawing scene was memorable. You’re in awe, not quite sure how to react.

“You don’t have to be fully… y’know..” Ellie insists.

Your face is still unreadable, as if you're lost in thought, and it’s freaking her out. Too many what-ifs are going through her head, all of them gradually getting worse the longer you stay silent. She thinks she got too close to the sun when she had more than enough warmth. She's already preparing herself for rejection, worryingly scouting your face for a hint of revulsion; however, it never comes.

“Oh. Okay.” You calmly respond with a shrug, your face still unreadable; the only difference being a light smile. You could’ve thought about it longer, but you’re so flattered Ellie wants you to pose for her that you rather worry about it later. She wants to sketch your body onto paper. Yours. It sounds vulnerable and a little nerve wracking, but she’s your friend. A friend you have a crush on, sure, but you wouldn’t want to inconvenience her over it. Plus, you owe her now. Really, you’re purely being selfless. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself.

“Okay?” Ellie repeats to make sure she was hearing things right.

“Like I said, you’re doing this for me, so I’ll do it for you.” You reassure, gesturing around to the study session laid across the table.

“Are you sure? You know I’ll still tutor you, even if you say no–”

“— Do you not want me to?” You pout your lips, hoping she hasn't changed her mind already.

“Are you shitting me? Of course I do. I just… didn’t expect you to say yes.” Ellie finally says, absolutely dumbfounded given her hand movements.

You laugh melodically, “Didn’t think that far, huh?”

“Nope.” She answers with a cute embarrassed smile, her blood rushing to her face.

Your phone buzzes, probably a text or notification. You reach out and shove a few papers to the side to get to it before taking a look, only for your eyes to be drawn to the time. “Shit. It’s late. I think the library closes soon…” You murmur regretfully, feeling all too comfortable where you were.

Ellie presses her tongue against her cheek in annoyance, upset that time dared to pass by as fast as it did. “We should get going then, I guess.” She says dejectedly, not wanting to leave you just yet.

You peep her suddenly gray aura and smile warmly towards her. “Can you walk me back to my dorms?”

She nods with subtle enthusiasm and pushes out of her seat, immediately packing all her belongings to join your side. “Yes! — I mean, sure. Yeah.”

—-

The lamp post lights are warm and waning, complimenting the shadows on both your faces. You two walk down the dark flagstone path towards the housing area, chatting about nothing. It’s nice to be able to spend a little more time with her before the night is over. Unfortunately, you guys were drawing closer and closer to your dorm and the feeling of loss came as quick as it left.

“Hey, Els?”

She glanced at you and hummed in response, giving you the signal to continue. “I was wondering if you were gonna be at some party tomorrow? Apparently Dina’s co-hosting it.”

Ellie looks at you quizzically before looking off elsewhere to think. “Why the fuck would they party on a Sunday?”

You snort out a laugh before lifting and dropping your shoulders, “I don’t know, senioritis or something. Will you come though?”

“Mhm, I’ll be there.” She smiles as she speaks, loving how your face lit up by the end of it. Ellie isn’t too fond of parties, but for you? She can make an exception.

You cheer in a whisper tone and it makes Ellie smile harder, her features creasing in adoration. You two finally approach your dorm building. You walk up a step before turning to wave goodbye. She raises a palm in return and you flash her a smile that makes her heart leap before turning into the building.

If Ellie couldn’t tell before, she’s completely enamored by you.

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a/n: fuck jk rowling but i rlly couldnt think of any other commonly known fantasy book :/

taglist: @bready101 @pascals-doll @macaroni676 @khai-le @pedropascalsbbg @seraphicsentences @starlight-savegery @snowy-vee @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @a-little-bit-of-everybody @elliesactualgirlfriend

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x female reader #ᝰ like a french girl

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queen-yalo · 3 years ago

Text

FF VII | One-Shot | Jealousy

Request: okay, okay... my third try.... tumblr pls dont screw me over again.... could u maybe do Cloud with "OH you're jealous"? bc i feel like that could be really cute for this emotionally confused baby 🥺 thanks ily!!! im just so in awe of ur writing 🥺 [by @moonbarnes]

A/N: Hope you enjoy! ♥

Pairing: Cloud Strife x fem!reader

Genre: Slight jealousy but mostly fluff :3

• • •

You were doing it again.

You were laughing about Zack's jokes.

Not that Cloud minded seeing you laugh, quite the contrary. He just wished he could make you laugh like this as well. But Cloud wasn't a fun, outgoing guy like Zack. He couldn't even look you in the eyes for more than one minute without blushing. How would he ever make you laugh like Zack did?

Still, he was annoyed. And it annoyed him that he was annoyed.

He had no right feeling this way. You were friends. All of you. He tried to cling to this thought, but everytime you giggled, it escaped his grip.

A frustrated groan left his lips as he grabbed his drink and downed it in one gulp, setting the glass down again with a loud bang.

You flinched slightly when you heard the noise, your eyes drifting over to Cloud at the other end of the bar. A frown made its way onto your face. He had been acting weird a lot lately, but this was a new high.

"What's wrong?" You asked, slowly getting off your chair and walking over to him.

Cloud glared at his empty glass. "Nothing." He mumbled, a small blush creeping over his skin - again. You sat down next to him, your hand coming to rest on his arm - his heart was doing violent leaps in his chest. He gulped and flinched away slightly, instantly regretting it when he saw the pained look on your face from the corner of his eyes.

"Sorry... force of habit." He whispered quickly, forcing himself to relax again. You hummed in response, leaning onto the bar, propping your head up on your hand to look at him.

"What's going on in that head of yours, hm? You've been much quieter than usual lately..."

Cloud shrugged and rubbed his neck. What was going on in his head? Your beautiful eyes? Your contagious smile? The sound of your voice? And that little green monster that raged when he saw you close to Zack?

He shook his head quickly. That was just stupid. Although...

"Nothing..." he whispered, playing with his empty glass absentmindedly. "It's just..."

Another laugh sounded through the room, this time from Tifa. Cloud frowned, glaring over at the other side of the bar. You followed his look, wondering what he was so annoyed about. It took a few minutes, but eventually...

"Oh..." You mumbled.

A small gasp escaped your lips. "Oh! You're jealous?"

Cloud groaned quietly, the blush creeping down his neck slowly. "No, it's... nothing..."

You giggled and slipped into the chair next to him. "Oh, Cloud..." Gently, you leaned against his shoulder, poking his cheek with your nose.

"There's no need to be jealous. Zack is Zack, and you are you. And let me tell you... 'you' is pretty awesome."

"I just... wished I could make you smile like that..." He looked away, still trying to hide his blush.

"You do," you beamed, turning his head gently to make him look at you, "in your own way. When you help Marlene with her flowers, or Tifa with some random chores... there's so much you do that makes me smile."

Cloud hummed quietly, lost in thoughts. If only-

"Hey!" you scolded him, flicking his forehead gently. "Stop comparing yourself to Zack. You shouldn't and you also have absolutely no reason to do so. Now, brighten up. Or else..."

Cloud squeaked quietly when your fingers poked his side. He glared at you playfully, as he swatted your hand away. "Okay, okay..." he laughed. "I surrender!"

"Cloud," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, "you are my boyfriend, and I love you. We make our moments and memories."

"In our own way."

#final fantasy 7 #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 oneshot #final fantasy vii oneshot #cloud #cloud strife #cloud x reader #cloud strife x reader #cloud oneshot #cloud strife oneshot

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luveline · 2 years ago

Note

my baby freddie is back in stock?! jade ilysm 🥹

could i request a scenario with fred from the special friend au? (kind of like that eddie blurb where him and r make up after a fight/rough patch)

do what u pls with this, hope your day/night is going well miss jade 🫶🏼 sending all my love

TW reader has mental health issues / issues with self harm ♥︎ ty for ur request, ily! fem!reader

It's important to Fred that you spend time together, even when you're fighting. You hadn't understood at first what that was like. Usually, when you fight, you need space, right? That's just how it feels.

Fred doesn't want that, and he expresses it with zero qualms.

"I wanna sit on the settee together, okay?" he asks your back. You've taken refuge on his side of the bed. "You don't have to speak to me if you don't want to."

You're not giving him the silent treatment, you're having a hard time talking. The silent treatment hasn't ever felt very fair — he hasn't stopped existing to you. You're eager to fix the problem between you, to resolve the argument, but you don't know what to say. Neither does he.

You turn around. You don't smile at him, though you want to. His lips twitch like he might, but he only opens the door wider and nods his head. "You want to bring the quilt?"

You bring the quilt. He takes it from you when you're near, and he drapes it over you once you've sat yourself down on the settee. You're unsurprised when he makes tea.

"Thank you," you say. He holds the side so you can take the handle, like he always does, burning his fingertips no doubt.

And this is where he'd kiss your cheek and say, "You're welcome." He's thinking about it, you can tell. You jut your chin in case he wants to, and then he's kissing you, the impassable space between you passed as if nothing's wrong.

Something is wrong, though.

He can tell how hard this is for you. Fred means a lot to you. You love him, he's your partner, but it's more than that. He's your best friend. He's the most consistent thing in your life. Fighting with him makes you anxious, it makes you want to cry, and it makes you want to hurt yourself, even in small ways. Not because you're punishing yourself, and not because you're punishing him. You don't know how to deal with the feelings that you're feeling, and it's as simple as that. Your outlet for emotion is hurting.

You haven't hurt yourself, though, because if you do, Fred might think it's because of him. To spite him, or even just his fault. Neither could ever be true, you'd never hurt yourself to hurt him. You'd never hurt yourself because of him. But it's really hard not to. And it's hard not to tell him, because you tell him almost everything. You feel very alone. You miss him to death.

He strokes your cheek with the side of his knuckle and sits in his seat.

"Freddie," you murmur. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He looks so relieved. "Yeah," he says quietly, "of course I do."

You've started the conversation, and you have to extend the olive branch. Not easy when your memory is a sieve, and anything that wasn't thrumming guilt has slipped away. You want to say sorry and have it be done with, but you don't want to say it for the sake of it. He deserves a proper apology.

"Can you explain it to me?" you ask.

He picks up his mug of tea, second hand held close enough to feel the warmth but not enough to burn. You're holding your mug double handed, skin scalded.

"Have you been crying?"

You look down at your lap. "Not really."

"Ghost, it's- it's not something you have to upset yourself over."

"I'm sorry," you whisper immediately.

"I didn't mean to snap at you yesterday." He huffs, and then he sighs, putting his mug back on the coffee table. "Before we talk about it, I want to lay down some groundwork. Stuff that's permanent. Okay?"

You wince. "Okay."

"I love you."

Tears well in your eyes, burning hot. "Okay."

"I don't think anything has changed, or will change between us because of this argument... Do you feel the same?"

You look up and find only patience in his face. He's not smiling or happy, but he's not mad. He's not annoyed that he has to reassure you.

The big freckle on his chin twitches as he opens his mouth, lips forming the letters a second before he speaks. "You're my girl. You don't have to cry, alright? We just need to talk about this."

Relief is a lightning rod, heat so hot it has pinpricks of sweat prickling over your entire body. You kick the quilt off of your legs.

"Are you sure?" you ask.

He finally smiles. "Am I sure that I love you? More than anything."

"Are you sure it doesn't change anything?" Couples argue and argue and argue, and then they break up.

He nods slowly. "I think so. Do you think it's something we won't be able to move past?"

No. Your urgency must show. Fred pushes his open hand across the settee and you take it like a lifeline.

"You know, everybody fights," he says, almost fond as he pulls your now joined hands back toward him. His knuckles flex between yours, and soon he's got your hand in his lap, painting circles over the back of it with a steady fingertip.

"Not us."

"It's not necessarily a bad thing," he says. "We can't walk around not telling each other things. I thought maybe that's why it got to the point that it did." He meets your eyes. "You know?"

"Yeah," you say, though you're not sure.

The fights is a blur of feelings rather than what you'd said. It could be boiled down to two specifics; Fred being upset with you for isolating yourself from others, you being upset with Fred for misunderstanding. But, as most fights go, it certainly hadn't stayed contained to those things. You'd said both things you meant and things you didn't, though neither of you had said anything cruel. You're quite happy with that.

"I know this stuff gives you a heart attack, but we gotta do it."

"I want to talk about it," you assure him. You want to crawl into his arms and stay there forever, but you'll settle for this, your hand in his hand.

So you talk about it. Fred tries to put his point across again but he folds in the things you'd said. He apologises for a misconception. He apologises for raising his voice. He's forgiven for both immediately.

You reaffirm your own argument, and your throat burns because you really don't care anymore, you just don't want him to be angry. But if what he said is true, lying to him here could end in another argument down the line, one that'll be worse for the both of you.

"Freddie," you say finally, at your bursting point, "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I know you said we have to fight, but I hate it, and you're my everything." You can barely speak, embarrassed to need him like this. "I'll do whatever you want me to do to make it better."

He pulls your hand to his cheek and holds it there, leaning his weight into it just slightly. "That's kind of my point, sweetheart. I want you to want to do these things because you want to. Not because I asked you to."

You hang your head. If you bite your lip hard, your tears won't fall. They waver at the waterline.

"Tell you what. How about we talk about this tomorrow?" he asks.

A first tear dribbles down your cheek weakly. It's a very small tear. You hope he doesn't notice, but of course he does, and his voice goes soft as silk.

"We've worked it out, ghost," he murmurs, kissing your hand hurriedly, then your wrist. "You don't need to worry. I'm not angry with you."

"I'm sorry-" Your breath catches. You try again. "I'm sorry for being like this. I know it's just a normal argument. I know it's normal, I don't know why I can't be. I know you're not mad, but I feel so stupid."

"Why?"

Your shoulders tremble with a self-loathing sob, though Fred takes it for overwhelmed, and he shuffles across the settee to nudge your shoulder with his.

"Because I'm upset about all the wrong things."

"Who says what the right thing is?"

"I'm making this about me."

"It is about you. It's about both of us, and it's about you." He wipes the tears that he pooled at your chin away with the back of his hand, and then he turns his palm inward to stroke up to your cheek, angling your face in his direction. He stares at you, unflinching. It's a kind of devotion for him to look at you crying and sniffling with so much love. "Would it make you feel better to know I'm upset we're fighting too? I miss you." He laughs, but it doesn't detract from his sincerity. That cuts like a knife.

"You're sure we're okay?" you ask

"I need you," he says, and then amends, "I love you as much as I did before we argued. I love you more, probably."

"Probably."

He beams at you, wiping flecks of tears from your wet lashes carefully. "Definitely. You would have to do something truly, truly awful for me to stop. And I mean, even then..."

You laugh wetly. He's generous for being this way, making jokes and wiping your tears, assuaging your fears even though the argument isn't entirely settled no matter what he claims. You have to work on being better, both of you. Nothing's ever so cut and clean.

"Do you have anything you want to tell me? Something you want me to do, the next time we argue? I-" He chucks you under the chin. "Don't like seeing you this way. But you know that."

"I don't want to go to bed mad at each other," you say quickly. That had been a sick torture.

"Okay, we won't. We'll stay up next time."

There's not much else you can think of. Fred's giant heart has made this easier than it might have been. You try to say thank you and the words gum up in your mouth, distracted by his thumb stroking a short back and forth from the middle of your chin to the underside of your jaw. It's a tickling thing, the lightest of touches.

"I love you," you say. In lieu of thank you for being so patient with me.

"I know. I know."

He's never been anything but patient. Maybe he understands why you are the way that you are. He definitely realises that your emotion tends to come before any logic, and that doesn't make you hysterical or in the wrong. It's one of those things woven into who you are.

"I love you, and... I think it's good for us to fight sometimes. I don't want you to think you can't disagree with me, that this," — he squeezes your joined hands — "is conditional. Because it isn't. You can rail at me, if you liked. I could be into that."

You laugh, relaxing into his side unconsciously. "What, the-" You sniffle. "The nagging girlfriend?"

"Yeah. I think I'd like it if you bossed me around. You could, you know? I'd love it."

"You'd love it," you repeat, unconvinced.

He wraps the arm that isn't pressed to yours around the back of your head, hand above your ear, encouraging your crown to his lips. "Yeah, I would. I love when you talk," he says into your hair. "The sound of your voice. Even when you aren't saying things I agree with."

This has to be one of the best feelings on earth. Being sorry and being forgiven. A warmth that wants nothing from you but yours in turn. Fred's hand playing behind your ear, down your neck and up again. Your shoulders shake with a sudden but singular sob, and you hide your face in his front before he can see it. He can feel it.

"Are you okay?" you ask him.

"Me?"

He pets your back for emphasis.

"You," you say. "Are you still upset?"

He takes a few seconds to think it over. "Maybe a little bit."

You're not very well most of the time, and you process things differently, but making him feel better is something you've always been able to do. You fight back all your tears and drag yourself away from his chest, hands trembling minutely but determined as you cup his cheeks.

He raises his eyebrows at you.

You stroke his cheeks with your thumbs.

Fred laughs, happy at first and then weaker as it goes on.

"Groundwork," you say. "Stuff that won't change. I love you."

He nods and does that things boys do when they're trying not to cry, a quick, too casual blink. He clears his throat. "I love you too."

"You're very handsome."

His laugh thickens. "Tell me more."

"You're my best friend. You're the best friend I could ever have."

You stare at each other for entirely too long, like a cheesy rom-com movie, adoration and relief brightening your eyes and an unspoken agreement between you as your hands move into his hair. He gathers you up into a wonky, amazing hug. You squeeze him and he squeezes you.

You're giggling like a little kid. He squeezes harder and the giggles turn apprehensive.

"Freddie, don't," you beg.

"What was that?" he asks, squeezing you some more, hands vying for your sides, ready to do some damage. "Can't hear you over all that pretty laughing."

"That's terrible, and it's not true 'cause my laugh sounds like a-"

Rather than let you insult yourself, Fred squeezes extra hard. It's more a nice pressure than anything painful, the air whooshing out of you. Too shocked to laugh, you sigh like an idiot and clutch at his shoulder blades.

"Feeling better?" he asks.

You press your face to his neck. "Yeah." You feel really, really good.

He drops his face to find yours. His breath crests over your cheek like a wave. The fighting almost feels worth it, to make up with him like this.

"Let's never fight again," he says grandly. Obviously joking, hopped up on the same affection high as you are.

"Never," you agree.

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fluff #a special friend universe #harry potter imagine #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley x reader fluff #fred weasley fic #fred weasley x you

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mirobami · 4 years ago

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HI BESTIE AMBEJSHDKDH hope ure doing well mwa but i want the rin stans to feel pain rn so can i req a rin x reader angst ?? :00 any plot will do as long as it h u r t s (and isnt a cheating scenario pls)

get creative bestie ily mwa !!

↳ wishful thinking - r. obami

♥ GENRE: angst.

♥ SYNOPSIS: s/o losing someone she loves.

♥ WARNING: major character death.

♥ NOTE: HI BESTIE HOW ARE YOU?? ily too, good to see you again! Oh yes, I love the angst, let’s get started!

It was late outside, the rain seeming like it was never going to end as it kept pouring down. The sky was as dark as ever, sounds of thunder far into the distance. It didn’t seem like it’d stop raining anytime soon. Even as Y/N looked outside, she couldn’t see past the fence.

“Where is he?” Y/N mumbling, talking to no one in particular. Not that anyone would hear her, no one was at home with her. Her husband should’ve been home a while ago and yet there was no sight of his car or of a blue-haired man walking to the front steps.

Rin Obami had been her husband for about three years and to say it was the happiest three years of her life was an understatement. They had been dating more years than that, even though they had had a rocky start to the beginning of their relationship.

Seeing as he was part of the Bami clan, trust had not come easy for her. Rin was a swindler as well, meaning that at any second, if she trusted him, he could’ve dropped her. This was why she ignored him, no matter what. Even if he was her desk partner, even if she had to work with him on a project, she refused to look him in the eyes or talk to him.

Rin found himself falling for Y/N whereas she hated him and he knew it. He kept trying to get into her good books, but it was clear that she wouldn’t allow that of him, always glaring or glowering at him.

It wasn’t until she had had to go to his place for a project that they were to finally talk to each other without any malice behind it. She had absolutely tried to ignore him; however, it came as no surprise to her that they wouldn’t get anywhere if she kept acting like that. They started talking about the project and from there, went on several tangents. They had several things in common, leading to their inevitable friendship and soon to be relationship.

Happily married, they’d have three grand years together, no secrets, no anything. They knew they could count on each other and always did, especially since they never hid anything from the other.

However, now he was out in the rain without even calling Y/N. She was exceedingly concerned about him, having no idea what had happened to him. Then the sound of her phone ringing through the silence made her jump slightly before rushing over to see the caller ID. It was Rin and she picked it up in relief. “Rin? Are you okay? Where are you?”

“Hey love, I’m sorry for being late, I don’t think I’ll make it soon.” His voice was scrunched up as if he was in pain. She recognized it, he always had that voice when he was sick or trying to hide something from her.

“Rin. Where are you?”

“I actually don’t know, I think I got lost.” A little laugh came out from the other end of the receiver but it didn’t make Y/N feel any better. “You know, I love you. I really do love you a lot. You mean the entire world to me and I thought I didn’t deserve you for the longest time.”

Y/N stayed quiet, not making heads or tails out of what he was saying. He continued. “So many people told me that you would end up with some extraordinarily rich and honest guy. I’m rich but my family’s job is to constantly lie. That’s what I did until you came along and just changed my life. Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for being the sunshine in my life, for bringing out the best in me, for making sure I’m safe and...” He exhaled softly. “Giving me something to live for. Thank you for everything.”

The words made her chest constrict. The words felt like a goodbye, but maybe she was being overdramatic. He probably was delirious from lack of sleep. Why didn’t she make him stay at home to sleep? “Rin--”

“I love you. Can you say that, please?”

“I love you, Rin. I love you more than anything else and I’m so glad that I’ve had you in my life, but--”

“That’s what I wanted to hear. I love you more than you know.” With those words, there was a click and the call ended. He had hung up on her.

Something within her told her that something was wrong and she couldn’t place her finger on it. All she resorted to was sitting on her couch and wait to see if Rin would show up at the door, safe and sound. That wasn’t the case, she realized about two hours later. The house phone rang, shaking her out of her trance. She glanced at it as if it was the devil then decided to pick it up. Shakily holding it close to her ear, she spoke into the mouthpiece. “Hello?”

“Is this Y/N L/N?” An unfamiliar voice rang out.

“Yes.”

“Your husband has been put into the hospital, he has been in a grave car crash and surgeons are currently operating on him right now. However, there are certain...situations in which we call the patient’s first emergency call. If you can come here, please arrive as soon as possible. Thank you.” The call ended.

It felt like the earth was swirling at Y/N’s feet, her eyes blank as her stomach twisted. Rin...got hurt? He’s in the hospital? Her mind was trying to process what was going on, yet her body was moving on its own accord, grabbing her car keys and not bothering to get a raincoat as she raced out the door to get to her car. Turning on the ignition, there was a loud screech of the car tires as she started driving to the hospital.

The rain seemed to mock her, chanting Rin is in the hospital, Rin is in the hospital over and over again. Her heart was going so fast that she couldn’t feel it. Y/N sped up, driving both carefully and carelessly at the same time. She needed to get to Rin as quickly as possible and make sure he was okay. He had to be okay. The little voice in her mind tried to reassure her desperately and Y/N tried to tell herself that he was fine too.

Once at the hospital, Y/N parked wherever she could find space and got out of her car, rushing to get to the hospital doors while the rain pounded on her back. The second she had entered, she launched herself at the receptionist’s desk. “Rin...Obami...where is he? Is he okay? Where is he, what happened to him?”

The receptionist was taken aback but it was clear from the desperation in her eyes that she needed to know immediately. “13th floor, room 13K.”

Oh God. Y/N’s stomach now went down to her toes as she gulped. The elevator would take too long, she had to take the stairs. From the adrenaline pumping in her veins, she didn’t even notice the set of stairs. The hallway felt like it was going on forever once she reached the 13th floor. “13K, 13K...”

The room was right in front of her and she had enough common sense in her to not barge in to make sure Rin was okay. A nurse came out thirty minutes later and she asked, “Hello, can I held you?”

“Yes! Is Rin Obami in there? Is he okay?” Y/N asked, hope laced in her voice.

The nurse fidgeted slightly. “They are currently operating on him right now, I’m not sure about the outcome. The wound was so much deeper than it seemed and I am not sure if it penetrated any of his vital organs. You have to understand, nothing is sure yet.”

The horror in Y/N’s eyes was clear as she sat back down, her head in her hands. “Oh, God...oh my God, please tell me he’s going to survive this, please...don’t let him go, don’t take him...”

A clock on the wall kept ticking and Y/N had a distinct feeling that it was counting down Rin’s time left on Earth. She attempted not to think about it, yet it was hard, considering that the operating room was right across from her. She didn’t know when she fell asleep. All she knew was that when she heard the sounds of muttering and footsteps, she woke up, quickly standing. A team of surgeons faced her and she asked, “Is he okay? Did he make it?”

The looks of pity should’ve clued her in and yet her heart tried to not give up hope. One of the braver surgeons stepped forward and said quietly, “His time of death was 3:17 am. I am so sorry, we tried the best we could, but it was too late.”

Too late. The words repeated and bounced around her head, making her vision blur. That wasn’t possible. No, that couldn’t be possible. If she opened the door, she’d see Rin sitting up and smiling at her, reaching out for her. “Let me see him.” She demanded, as if trying to prove the surgeons wrong.

One of the nurses let her open the door and there he was. Covered in a white sheet, a bit of blue hair poking out from under the sheet. She didn’t want to go over to him, knowing that if she saw his face, it’d be over. But it was already over for her.

She fell to the floor, one hand against her mouth, trying to stop the pitiful sounds coming out of her. Her vision was endlessly blurring and she could feel hot tears cascading down her cheeks. Then she stopped trying to hold it back. The dam of emotions within her broke and with that, so did her heart. Sobbing harshly with her arms wrapped around her stomach, she cried out, “Why did you leave me!? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?! You can’t take him, give him back! Rin, please...” She tried to go over to him, not caring about the nurse trying to stop her. Her hand reached for his and she squeezed it as if trying to bring life back to him. “Please wake up, please, please, please...don’t leave me, you promised you wouldn’t leave me!”

His hand remained as cold as ever.

With another round of heartbreaking sobs, she crashed down to the floor, hiding her face in her hands as she kept crying. He was gone. She’d never get anything from him anymore and even now, she wished he’d wake up to give her one last kiss, one last hug, one last reminder that he was still on Earth.

Yet the sheet never fell off of him, a cold reminder that the man she had loved more than anything was dead.

It hurt more to know that his last words to her were “I love you more than you know”. At those words, she broke down in a fresh round of tears, not wanting to leave. Someone pulled her up and took her back home. She crashed into her bed. Maybe it was all a nightmare and she’d wake up soon.

Y/N’s eyes opened slowly. She could feel her eyes swollen from her crying in her sleep. Turning in her bed, she expected to see Rin sleeping next to her peacefully, reassuring her that he was still alive and she only had a nightmare. At the realization, she went back to sleep, tears still falling down her cheeks.

There was no such thing. Rin Obami was dead.

#kakegurui x reader #kakegurui x y/n #kakegurui x you #rin obami x reader #rin obami x y/n #rin obami x you #rin obami imagines

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