#it feels like they knew that people would easily miss the message and miss the takeaway and that’s why ruby is there and why her reactions | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

itneverendshere · 3 months ago

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played me like a clarinet - rafe cameron (three) - finale

request: "Desperately-on my knees-begging for a ''She's all that'' from 1999, with Popular Rafe x Reader. Ooouff, and you want that soul crushing heartbreak when she finds out about the bet he had made" pairing: rafe x smart!nerdy!reader. warnings: more angst <3; part one here; part two

Staying away from Rafe was hard.

It was hard before you two tried to be friends and it’s even harder now that you gave him the no-contact ultimatum. Everywhere you went, it felt like he was there, even if he wasn’t. It was in the songs that played on the radio, in the way the sun set over the patio near your dorm, in the way his, now yours, shirts still smelled like him.

You missed the late-night conversations, the way he’d laugh at your jokes, and how he could read you better than anyone else. But more than anything, you missed the way he made you feel—even if it wasn’t real at first.

Every time your phone buzzed, you stupidly hoped it was him, even though you knew it wouldn’t be. You’d told him to stop, to leave you alone, and he had respected your boundaries even when it seemed like the last thing he wanted to do. And you’re proud of him for it—for once, he’s doing something right. But you’re mostly proud of yourself too, for sticking to your decision, for not letting him back in so easily.

Still, it doesn’t make it any easier.

You thought giving yourself space would help you move on, help you figure out if you could ever really trust him again. But instead, it just left this space where he used to be. You kept wondering how much of it was real for him—if any of it was. Maybe that’s why staying away felt impossible because a part of you wanted to believe he meant some of it, that his feelings weren’t just part of some game.

You had to draw the line, to protect yourself from getting hurt all over again. And even though it hurt to keep him out, you knew it was the only way you’d figure out what you really wanted, without him clouding your judgment.

You tried to move on.

Slowly, cautiously, you started going on dates—nothing serious, just enough to remind yourself that there were other people out there, that Rafe wasn’t the only guy who could make you laugh or feel special. Every few weeks, you’d let yourself get dressed up, put on a smile, and meet someone new.

The first date was awkward, more like a practice run than anything else. You spent most of it comparing the guy to Rafe, noticing all the little things that didn’t measure up. It wasn’t fair to the guy, but you couldn’t help it. He wasn’t Rafe, and that’s all you could focus on. You ended the night with a polite hug and a promise to text, but you knew you wouldn’t.

The second date was better, but not by much. The guy was nice, made you laugh a few times, but there was no spark, no connection that made you want to see him again. You tried to be present, to give him a chance, but your mind kept drifting back to Rafe, to what he would say or how he would react to something. By the end of the night, you felt more exhausted than excited.

After that, you took a break. It was too soon, you told yourself. You weren’t ready to move on yet, and that was okay.

Some days, you almost reached out to him. You’d pick up your phone, scroll through your messages, and your finger would hover over his name. It would be so easy to send a quick text, something casual, just to see how he was doing. But you never did. You knew that one message could ruinl everything you’d worked so hard to build—the distance, the boundaries, the fragile sense of self you were trying to protect.

Instead, you threw yourself into other things. Classes, the cheer squad, hobbies, anything to keep your mind occupied. You spent more time with friends, even though it was hard not to talk about him. You kept the conversations light, steering away from anything that would bring his name up. You didn’t want to be that person who couldn’t stop talking about their ex, who couldn’t let go, even if that’s exactly how you felt inside.

It helped, sometimes.

For brief moments, you’d find yourself genuinely laughing at a joke or losing yourself in a book or a project. But then something small would happen—a song on the radio, a glimpse of someone who looked like him, or the sound of his name in passing—and it would all come rushing back. It wasn’t fair.

You’d think you’d be used to it by now, but each time it felt like a fresh wound. The memory of his laughter, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way he always knew just what to say—it was as if he left a ghost behind, haunting every corner of your life. And in those moments when you’d catch yourself smiling or feeling light, it was like a betrayal. How could you allow yourself to feel joy when he wasn’t there to share it?

It was like trying to run from a shadow that moved with you, always there, no matter how fast you tried to go.

Every time you thought about him, about how he had hurt you and how you were struggling to move on, it felt like stabbing at an old wound, hoping it would heal faster if you just made it worse. The reality was that you missed him in ways you weren’t ready to admit.

Running into him was inevitable. Despite your best efforts to avoid the places he might be, your college was too small, too intertwined with memories of him.

The first time you saw him after the ultimatum was at a party you had reluctantly agreed to attend. You spotted him across the room, laughing with his friends, looking just as carefree as ever. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, and for a moment, you felt stuck to the ground. But then he looked up, his eyes meeting yours, and the smile slipped from his face.

It was a small moment, one that no one else seemed to notice, but it felt like the all the air in your lungs had been sucked out. You forced yourself to look away, to focus on the conversation happening around you, but it was impossible to ignore the feeling of his eyes on you.

The second time was worse.

You were at the grocery store, just trying to get through your day when you turned a corner and nearly collided with him. The shock of seeing him so close, so unexpectedly, made you want to disappear on the spot.

You both mumbled awkward apologies, neither of you really saying anything of substance, just trying to avoid the awkwardness. But then he asked how you were.

“I’m fine,” you replied, too quickly, too sharply. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue.

He nodded, and for a moment, it looked like he wanted to say more, to reach out and touch you, but he didn’t. You both stood there, trapped in a painful silence, before you finally made an excuse and walked away, leaving him standing there in the aisle.

After that, the encounters became more frequent. You saw him at the beach, in coffee shops, passing by on the street. Each time, it was the same—an awkward exchange, a few forced pleasantries, and then a quick retreat. It was like the universe was conspiring against you, refusing to give you the space you so desperately needed.

And each time, it hurt just a little bit more. Seeing him in these mundane, everyday moments, like nothing had changed, made it harder to keep up the distance you’d built. It reminded you of all the times when being around him had felt natural, easy, like he was just supposed to be there.

But the worst part was the way he looked at you. Jessica had told you before. He’d never looked at any girl like that. And you stupidly held onto that tiny hope even if you shouldn’t.

You’d been trying to keep it together all night, but the sight of Jessica and Tyler laughing together, so effortlessly in love, was making you bleed inside. The drinks kept coming, one after another, until the room started to blur around you. You didn’t even notice how much you were drinking—only that it was easier to keep swallowing than to think about Rafe.

But the alcohol wasn’t enough to quiet your thoughts.

Instead, it seemed to amplify them, making everything feel sharper, more painful. Jessica and Tyler’s whispered words of affection, the way his hand rested on her thigh, the way she looked at him with pure adoration—You couldn’t stop thinking about how that should have been you and Rafe.

By the time you realized you were too far gone, it was late. You stumbled as you stood up, the room spinning wildly around you. Someone—Jessica, maybe—asked if you were okay, but their voice was muffled, distant. You tried to nod, to say something reassuring, but your legs buckled beneath you, sending you crashing back into your chair.

"Whoa, easy there," Jessica’s voice was sharper now, filled with concern. She crouched down in front of you, her hands steadying you. “You’re not okay. We need to get you out of here.”

You tried to shake your head, to insist that you were fine, but the words wouldn’t come. The room was tilting, spinning, and you couldn’t focus on anything. Your vision was blurry, your limbs heavy, and you realized, with a sinking feeling, that you were too drunk to take care of yourself. You couldn’t even stand up, let alone make it home.

Panic started to set in. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to lose control like this. You weren’t supposed to need help.

“Jess… I’m fine…” The words slurred out of your mouth, but even you didn’t believe them.

“No, you’re not.” Jessica’s voice was firm now, almost authoritative. She glanced around, clearly trying to figure out what to do. The other girls were watching, their laughter fading into worried murmurs, “Baby, can you go and get her some water and sugar, please?”

She gently guided you to lean back, her hand on your shoulder to steady you. You tried to focus, tried to push through the fog in your mind, but everything was slipping away, your thoughts swirling together in a jumbled mess.

“Hey, stay with me, okay?” Her voice was softer now, almost pleading. She wasn’t just a concerned friend at this moment; she was scared. You’d never seen her like this before.

“I—” You started, but the words tangled in your throat. You wanted to tell her that you were sorry, that you didn’t mean to ruin the night, that you just wanted to stop thinking about him for a couple of hours, but all that came out was a garbled sound that barely resembled a word.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she soothed, her thumb brushing lightly against your arm. “We’ll get you out of here. It’s gonna be okay.”

Tyler returned with the water and sugar, and Jessica took the glass, trying to get you to drink. The water felt cool against your lips, but swallowing was harder than it should’ve been. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of consciousness.

“Come on, just a little more,” Jessica urged. You managed a few more sips before the glass slipped from your grasp, water sloshing onto your lap.

“Jess, I—” You tried again, but before you could finish, you heard another voice, one that sent a jolt through your foggy mind.

He was there, right in front of you, and you knew it was him without needing to open your eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” you heard him mutter. He crouched down, gently lifting your chin so you were forced to meet his eyes. “What the hell happened?”

“She had too much to drink,” Jessica explained quickly, her tone defensive, as if she expected him to start blaming her. “We were just about to get her out of here.”

You tried to smile, to play it off like it was no big deal, but all that came out was a shaky breath. “Too much… too much, Rafe…”

“I can see that,” he said, his tone softening as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. He turned to Jessica, his voice all business now.

You didn’t know how long he had been standing there. Was your brain torturing you? Making you believe he was there?

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he knelt down beside you, his hands grabbing your trembling ones. “Hey,” he said, his voice softer now, as if he was afraid you might break into pieces if he spoke too loudly. “I’m gonna get you home, okay?”

You wanted to say no, to tell him that you didn’t need him, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you just nodded, too tired and too dizzy to fight it.

He exchanged a look with Jessica and she sighed, her worry morphing into something closer to relief. “I’ll help you get her to the car.”

Your legs were useless, and you sagged heavily against his chest. He didn’t hesitate, scooping you up in his arms like you weighed nothing, cradling you against him. His scent surrounded you, familiar and comforting, and despite everything, you found yourself leaning into him, letting your head rest against his shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your temple. “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”

You nodded weakly, too exhausted to argue. Your eyes fluttered shut as he carried you out, the sounds of the party fading away behind you.

The ride to your dorm was a blur.

You were vaguely aware of Rafe’s arm around you, of Jessica sitting on your other side, rubbing your back in small circles. The motion of the car made your stomach churn, and you had to close your eyes to keep from getting sick. Uber or not, you weren’t about to ruin someone else’s car.

When you finally arrived, he practically carried you inside while Jess fumbled with your keys before pushing the door open.

He led you to your bed, easing you down onto the mattress.

“I’ll stay with her,” he muttered, his voice leaving no room for argument. Jessica hesitated, looking between the two of you, before nodding slowly.

“Call me if you need anything,” she said to Rafe, squeezing his arm before she left.

You were barely aware of her leaving, still too drunk to process much of anything. He knelt down beside your bed, brushing a stray hair from your face.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he murmured, his voice a soothing lullaby.

You wanted to say something, to tell him that you didn’t need him, that you were fine on your own.

You felt your bottom lip tremble.

He noticed the change immediately, his blue eyes softening as he continued to gently brush the hair from your face. “Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his thumb lightly tracing the curve of your jaw. “Just breathe.”

But that only made it worse. You could feel the tears welling up as you realized just how much you’d missed this—missed him. The safety of his presence, the way he always seemed to know what you needed before you did.

Your stomach churned, the nausea that had been building since you first sat in the car finally reaching a breaking point.

“Rafe,” you mumbled, your voice weak and shaky, “I think I’m gonna—”

He reacted instantly, his arms tightening around you as he quickly looked the room. “Okay, okay, just breathe,” he said, “You’re gonn be fine.”

But breathing was the last thing on your mind as the room started spinning faster. You tried to push away from him, your hand gripping his shirt as you fought to keep it down.

“Rafe, I need to throw up,” you managed to gasp, panic rising in your chest.

He didn’t hesitate, scooping you up from the bed and hurrying toward the bathroom. You barely registered the fact he was touching you again after so long, your mind solely focused on the nausea.

He got you to the bathroom just in time, guiding you to the toilet as you collapsed in front of it. He held your hair back with one hand, the other rubbing soothing circles on your back as you retched, the sound of it echoing harshly in the small space.

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” he murmured, grounding you as you emptied your stomach. You could feel the heat of his hand on your back, the gentle way he kept your hair out of the way.

When it was over, you slumped against the cool porcelain, too exhausted to care about anything other than the relief of having the nausea finally subside. Rafe handed you a damp washcloth, and you pressed it against your face, the coolness soothing against your overheated skin.

“Better?” he asked softly, crouching down beside you.

You nodded weakly, unable to meet his eyes. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Thanks.”

He didn’t say anything, just stayed close, while you avoided his gaze entirely. The room was quiet now, the only sound the slow, steady rhythm of your breathing as you tried to regain some control.

“I’m sorry.”

You felt embarrassed, and vulnerable in a way you hadn’t expected, and you hated every second of it.

“Stop apologizing,” Rafe said gently, his hand still resting on your back.

“Can you… can you stay over?”

You didn’t want to be alone, not tonight, not with the way your heart was aching.

Rafe’s eyes softened, the way they did only for you, and for a moment, you thought he might agree, that he might stay and help you forget, even just for a little while.

But then he shook his head, his expression pained.

“I can’t,” he said, his voice strained, like it hurt him to say it. “You know I can’t, sweets.”

You tried to hold it together, but it was no use. Before you could stop yourself, you were crying—quiet, heartbreaking sobs that you couldn’t control.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he reached out, brushing the tears from your cheeks, but it only made you cry harder. “I’m so sorry.”

You couldn’t even respond, the words tangled up in your throat. It wasn’t just that he wouldn’t stay; it was everything—the confusion, the heartbreak, the way you felt like you were losing him all over again, even though he was right there in front of you.

“Please don’t cry,” Rafe pleaded, his voice breaking. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. “I hate seeing you like this.”

You buried your face in his chest, the sobs shaking your entire body. The warmth of his touch, the familiar scent of him—it was too much, too close to everything you’d been trying to avoid. But you couldn’t pull away. You didn’t want to.

“I just… I just miss you,” you choked out, the words spilling from you in a broken whisper. “I miss you so much, Rafe.”

“I know,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “I miss you too.”

You clung to him, your fingers gripping his shirt like it was the only thing keeping him from disappearing. The tears wouldn’t stop, and neither would the ache in your chest, the one that had been there ever since you’d forced yourself to let him go.

“I wish things were different,” his usually bright eyes were dimmed, his brows drew together as if he was in pain. He looked at you like he was memorizing every detail, like he was afraid this might be the last time, “I keep hurting you.”

His hands trembled slightly as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his touch gentle as his fingers cradled your face. His thumbs brushed away the tears again, but they kept coming, fresh and spilling over. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but all that came out was a ragged breath.

“Please don’t hate me more for this,” he whispered, his voice rough, barely holding back. His eyes searched yours, desperate for reassurance, for something to cling to in this moment that felt like it was tearing you both apart.

“I could never hate you,” you whispered back, the words catching in your throat as the tears continued to fall. It hurt to say it, to admit it out loud.

He left that night.

You had almost convinced yourself that it was better this way, that moving on, that he did you a favor that night by leaving, that keeping him out of your life was the only solution.

Staying away from you was killing him.

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Rafe spent his days trying to distract himself, throwing himself into his studies for the first time in his life, into parties, into anything that would take his mind off you.

But nothing worked. Every time he saw something that reminded him of you, it was like a punch to the gut—a song you liked, a place you used to go together, even the smell of the ocean would bring memories crashing back. He missed you so much it hurt.

And when he saw you, it was even worse. The first time he ran into you after the break, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. He was at a party, trying to forget, trying to lose himself in the noise and the crowd, when he saw you across the room. For a moment, he thought he was imagining it, that his mind was playing tricks on him. But then your eyes met his, and his heart almost stopped.

You were as beautiful as ever, maybe even more so, but there was something different about you—something guarded, distant. But before he could even think about crossing the room to talk to you, you looked away, your expression closing off, leaving him standing there like an idiot, staring after you.

He’d told you he’d wait for you and he intended on keeping that promise. He couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like to have you back, to hold you, to tell you how much he loved you, how sorry he was. He’d never felt this way about anyone before, never been this wrecked over a girl, but you weren’t just any girl.

Rafe had never been good at groveling, at admitting he was wrong, but for you, he’d do anything. He’d get on his knees and beg if that’s what it took. He didn’t care about his pride anymore, not when it meant losing you. He was willing to do whatever it took to make things right, to prove to you that he was serious, that he loved you more than he ever thought possible.

But every time he saw you, he felt that hope slipping further away. The look in your eyes, the way you avoided him, it all felt like a final nail in the coffin. And yet, he couldn’t let go, couldn’t stop himself from yearning for you, from wanting you back in his life. He was going out of his mind, torn between respecting your wishes and fighting for you with everything he had.

Rafe knew he had to do something different, something that would show you just how much he had changed. The problem was, he didn't know what that was. He needed to find a way to prove to you that he was serious, that he was willing to put in the work to make things right.

So he started small.

He stopped going to parties, and stopped trying to drown out his feelings in distractions. Instead, he focused on becoming the person he thought you deserved—the person he knew he could be if he just tried. He started paying more attention in class, showing up on time, and actually studying. He even started volunteering, something he’d never done before, just to keep his mind occupied with something productive, something that wasn’t about him for once.

But the real change came when he began working on himself. He started seeing a therapist, something he’d always scoffed at before. He had a lot of baggage, a lot of unresolved issues that had driven him to hurt you in the first place, and he knew he needed to work through them if he ever wanted to be good enough for you.

It wasn’t easy. Therapy forced him to confront things he’d buried deep, things he’d avoided dealing with for years. Family trauma and all. But he stuck with it, because he knew it was the only way to get better, to be the kind of man you could trust again.

Slowly, he started to see changes in himself. He was more patient, more understanding, and more aware of how his actions affected others. He didn’t expect you to notice any of it—he was doing it for himself as much as for you—but he hoped that maybe, just maybe, you’d see that he was trying.

And then he had to pick you up that night.

He had never seen you drunk before, you’d always preferred your fruity punch over any other alcoholic drink. He’d always known you as strong, independent, someone who could hold your own. Seeing you like that—broken, hurting—made something in him snap. Was this his fault? Had he done this to you?

He knew he couldn’t stay that night. As much as it killed him to leave, he understood that this was part of growing too—the part where he learned to respect your boundaries, to give you space even when all he wanted was to hold you and never let go. You’d hate yourself the next day. He was doing you both a favor.

The next morning, Rafe didn’t text or call. He wanted to give you time, to process everything without the pressure of him hovering. Instead, he threw himself back into his routine, keeping himself busy but always with you at the back of his mind. He wondered if you remembered anything from the night before—how close he’d come to breaking down when you asked him to stay, how it had taken every ounce of self-control to walk away from you again.

Days passed, and he didn’t hear from you. It felt like a new kind of torture, but he stayed strong, if this was part of the process then so be it, he needed to be patient.

He didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to make you feel like you owed him anything. But he couldn’t stop hoping that maybe, just maybe, you were thinking about him too.

So when the call came that you were in the hospital, his heart nearly fell through his ass. He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate—he just went.

The thought of you being hurt, of something happening to you, was enough to make him speed over the legal limit. He needed to see you, to make sure you were okay, even if it was the last thing he did.

When he got there, his heart clenched tightly in his chest as he pushed through the doors of the hospital. He hated hospitals, hated everything about them—the smell, the sterile white walls. But none of that mattered now. All he could think about was you.

The nurse at the front desk directed him to your room, and he practically sprinted down the hallway, his mind racing with a thousand worst-case scenarios. He’d been too fucking anxious to ask if you were okay, as soon as your name and the word hospital registered, he was rushing over. When he finally reached your door, he paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob. What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you told him to leave?

But then he heard your pretty voice, soft and familiar. He pushed open the door and there you were, sitting up in the hospital bed with a sprained ankle, looking more frustrated than hurt. He breathed out in relief, so intensely it made his knees weak.

“Rafe?” you blurted out, your eyes widening in surprise as you saw him standing there. “What are you doing here?”

He took a step closer, “They called me. I’m still your emergency contact.”

“Oh,” you muttered, looking down at your hands. “I didn’t realize.”

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, but he could see the tension in your shoulders, the way you were trying to hold it together. “It’s just a sprained ankle. Nothing serious. Did a little too much during practice."

Rafe nodded, but he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. The sight of you in that hospital bed, even for something as minor as a sprained ankle killed him.

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice pulling him out of his thoughts. “You don’t have to stay. I’m fine. Really.”

But he couldn’t leave. Not now, not when you were right in front of him, looking so small and vulnerable. He shook his head, his voice coming out rougher than before, “I’m not leaving.”

You blinked up at him, “But you don’t have to—”

“I’m not leaving,” he repeated, his voice firm. “I know you can handle yourself, but I’m staying.”

Surprisingly, you didn’t kick him out. “Okay.”

He pulled up a chair beside your bed, settling in like he had no intention of going anywhere. The room was quiet, the only sound the faint beeping of the machines and the murmur of voices from the hallway outside. For a moment, neither of you said anything. It was strange, being this close yet so far away from you. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, taking in the way yours had softened, the way the lines of worry on your face were starting to smooth out. You looked tired like you’d been lacking sleep. He wished he could help, even if just for a little while.

“You know,” he said quietly, breaking the silence, “I used to think I was pretty good at taking care of myself. But then I met you, and I realized I’d never really let anyone take care of me before. Not like you did.”

“Rafe—”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted gently, “I’m still here. I’ll always be here, even if all I can do is sit in a hospital room with you and make sure you’re okay.”

You looked down at your hands, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“I missed you,” you whispered, the words so quiet he almost didn’t hear them.

His breath caught in his throat, his heart squeezing painfully at the admission. “I missed you too,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you for that night.”

He shifted slightly in his chair, leaning a little closer, careful not to overwhelm you but needing to be nearer all the same.

“I didn’t do anything special,” he murmured, though his mind replayed the events of that night. The helplessness he’d felt seeing you in that state, knowing there was little he could do to make it better. He hadn’t been sure then if you’d even wanted him there, but he’d helped you anyway. He couldn’t leave you, not when you needed someone—when you needed him.

“You were there,” a tear slipped down your cheek, and he instinctively reached out, his thumb gently wiping it away. The touch was soft, almost reverent, and it made your breath get stuck in your throat. “That’s more than enough.”

You leaned into his touch for a moment, savoring the comfort it brought, even though it hurt to let yourself feel it, “Just glad you’re safe.”

“Why did you come?”

“Because I love you,” he admitted, tired of carrying the truth inside him, “I know I screwed up—God, I know that. But I’ve spent every day since trying to be better, trying to be the kind of man you deserve. And I know I have a long way to go, but I’m not giving up. Not on you. Not unless you ask me to.”

“You love me?”

Your voice sounded so meek, so unsure it made him want to punch himself in the face. This was entirely his doing.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. He looked nervous, and vulnerable, “Yeah,” he said, “I do. I’m in love with you, I just—” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “I didn’t know how to say it, or maybe I was too scared to. Didn’t want to make you think I was saying it to save my ass, y’know?”

You’d always wondered what it would be like to hear those words from him, to have him admit that he cared for you in the same way you cared for him.

“I didn’t want to push you,” he continued, fingers intertwined, “But I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I couldn’t let you think that I didn’t care, that I didn’t want this, want you.”

You blinked, trying to process everything he was saying. This was the Rafe you’d always hoped for—the one who was honest and unafraid to show his emotions. But it was also the Rafe who had hurt you, who had made mistakes that left scars you weren’t sure had fully healed.

“Rafe, I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat.

“You don’t have to say it, sweets. It’s okay.”

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice shaking. “I’m scared of getting hurt again, of going back to that place where everything fell apart.”

He had changed—you could see it in the way he carried himself, in the way he spoke to you. He wasn’t the same Rafe who had hurt you.

"I’m not asking you to trust me right away," he continued, though there was a hint of desperation in it. "I know I need to earn that. But please, give me a chance to prove it. I don’t want to lose you again."

"You can’t wait for me forever.”

“I’d wait for you a lifetime. I told you,” His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing when he spoke, as if he was trying not to cry, “If you ever want me, I’m yours.”

His hands, usually so restless, were still now, resting on his knees as he leaned slightly forward in his chair. You saw the man he was trying to be—the man he wanted to be for you. He wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but he was trying. And that had to count for something.

“Even if I made you wait until we’re eighty and grey?”

Rafe let out a breathless laugh, the sound strained but genuine, “Even then,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “You’re it for me.”

It scared you how much you wanted to believe him, how much you wanted to pull him into your arms and tell him that he was it for you too. He reached out, his hand hovering near yours, waiting for you to close the distance. You hesitated for only a moment before your fingers intertwined with his. It felt right, like coming home after being lost for so long.

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you were thinking, feeling. He looked like he was holding his breath.

“I love you too.”

It was still scary, still uncertain, but you realized that nothing worth having ever came easy. And Rafe, with all his flaws and all his efforts to be better, was worth it.

He exhaled, his shoulders sagging in relief, “I don’t deserve you,” he said whispered, lips pressed against your fingers, “But I’m going to spend every day trying to. I swear, I’ll never stop trying.”

You closed your eyes, “You’re gonna make me cry.”

Rafe’s grip on your hand tightened, as if he could physically hold you together through sheer will alone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” he started, his voice panicked, but you shook your head, cutting him off.

“No, it’s okay,” you whispered, opening your eyes to meet his. “I just… it’s been a long time since I let myself feel this way.”

He nodded, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand in slow, soothing circles. “You don’t have to hold back with me. Not anymore. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay.”

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, running down your cheeks. Rafe was there instantly, his other hand reaching up to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing away the tears with a tenderness that made your heart hurt.

“I’m so sorry,” his voice cracked, “For everything I put you through.”

You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding you, giving you the strength to keep going. “I was so miserable Rafe,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “Scared that if I let you back in, I’d get hurt again. Scared that I’d lose you all over again.”

“I know,” he said, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you. “And I promise you, I’m not going anywhere this time. I’m here, and I’m not going to let you down.”

“I want to try.”

Rafe’s breath hitched, and he pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes searching yours as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You do?”

You nodded, a small, tentative smile forming on your lips. “I do. But we need to take it slow, okay? I need time.”

“Of course,” he said quickly, his eyes bright with hope. “We’ll go as slow as you need. I don’t fucking care sweets, I’m not leaving.”

You weren’t just giving him another chance—you were giving yourself one too. A chance to heal, to forgive, and to find your way back to each other.

Rafe pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment as if sealing the promise between you. “We’ve got this,” he murmured against your skin. “It’s you and me, okay?”

“You and me.”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and a genuine smile tugged at his lips, one that reached his eyes and made them crinkle at the corners. It was a smile you hadn’t seen in a long time, and seeing it made you want to bawl all over again. His hand cradled your cheek, his fingers tracing delicate circles on your jaw as his eyes locked onto yours, silently asking for permission, for forgiveness, for a chance to be close to you again. And when his lips finally brushed against yours, whatever pain you were feeling on your ankle disappeared.

The kiss was soft, tentative at first, like he was afraid you might pull away, afraid to push too far too soon. But the moment your lips pressed back against his, that tentative touch deepened. Rafe’s hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t stand to be apart from you even for a second. You could feel the desperation in the way his lips moved against yours, the way his breath hitched when you parted your lips to let him in.

Just as you were about to lose yourself in him, the door to your room swung open with a creak. You both froze, lips still touching, as someone cleared their throat.

You pulled away from each other reluctantly, your cheeks flushed, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Your eyes met Rafe’s and you saw the same blush of color on his face, the same love-sick expression that you were sure mirrored your own.

The doctor stood in the doorway, a clipboard in hand, a bemused smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Well, I see you’re feeling better.”

Rafe cleared his throat, stepping back slightly, his hand still lingering on your arm as if he couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet. “Uh, yeah, she’s doing great,” he mumbled.

“You must be the boyfriend.”

You couldn’t help the grin that took over, “Yeah. He is.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe angst #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fluff #rafe fic #rafe cameron au #rafe cameron imagines #requested #angst with a happy ending #light angst #fluff #rafe cameron fic

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writella · 3 months ago

Text

Reckless Romantics

Synopsis: Can be read as a stand alone or part two to getting ready for me; a return to innocent, inexperienced!reader and her relationship with Rick Grimes; two weeks after their first time together there has been some distance, but now Rick wants to make up for how hasty he was when he touched her last.

Details: Rick Grimes x fem!reader, smut: oral (f receiving) and teaching reader how to give a handjob, unspecified (of age) age gap, sweetness + kissing + a little mutual pining maybe, probably cliche, and leaning more into Rick as the dutiful leader and gentle lover (I feel this is just as in character as dom!Rick). Reader is a music lover— any kind of music you like— but she also likes a specific band only because I watched a documentary about them at the theater in July so it made its way into the story. Slightly proofread— will be corrected more later. wc: 5-7k (I lost track after finishing it on tumblr).

A/N: I wrote this message before I returned for the summer, but I still want you to read it: Been spending time outside this summer, trying to reach some goals— time got away from me. I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying I miss you, but please know it’s always true.

— with love from writella, my beautiful reader. ♡

Rick Grimes was not a man to give in to temptation.

My mercy prevails over my wrath, he’d say— his secret keepsake phrase. The one he whispers to himself in moments of hardship; the one he uses when he needs to make decisions only a leader would. Rick was a man of discipline; honor. He never boasted about how seriously he took these qualities, but when others did— admired, applauded, stuck by him for it— it would be a lie to say that he didn’t take note and use their pride to keep him going. This is how he knows he is strong-willed, why he wouldn’t fall for foolish, forbidden things. He was better than that. The safety and prosperity he brought to Alexandria proved it, reaffirmed it.

So why couldn’t someone remind him of that two weeks ago before he touched you?

As for you, you believed yourself to be a girl who wouldn’t fall so easily for the first man who showed you any kind of affection.

From an adolescence of peers who never seemed to take notice of you to one filled with walkers and adults who were either dead or seldom your age, you learned how hard love, let alone any connection, is to come by. It has made you quite the perpetual daydreamer because of it. One with a heart and mind filled with fantasy worlds, creating what you lacked externally. It often made you see yourself as much younger than you were despite all you’ve been through. No regular person your age in the old world has probably escaped as many deaths and wannabe cowboy dictators as you have. Still, they probably knew what it was like to have a high school romance, or at least go to the movies with friends, and have graduated from well, anything. You were simply born too late and shoved into this new world too early to experience even half of it.

This upbringing has brought you up to believe yourself precocious, although— maybe you were already too old for that word now. No, you were, so maybe– sensible, realistic despite the overactive imagination; you could decipher between right and wrong, real versus fake. This is why, for as long as you could, you did not entertain any thoughts of Rick Grimes.

Other people would though, women mostly. But you did have your suspicions of others who thought the same— they just weren't as shameless. Those who were, could be found during lunch breaks from work on house porches; or laughing and whispering at community gatherings and at the back of town hall meetings. Basically any time or place they could turn into a gossip session, which was often. And it didn’t always have to do with Rick. It could be about any one of the men in town; or retelling funny moments to their friends or complaining about their co-workers. But anything of true, great interest always had to do with the community leaders. You wish you could say you were the exception to this interest, but hypocritically, you loved a good inside scoop, and luckily for you, you had a trustworthy way about you. Almost everyone who spoke to you or allowed you to sit with them and their friends for meals agreed: you were a intent, quiet listener making you the best kind of person to say things to without judgment; and people assumed you as shy, yet you loved to laugh which was great for boosting egos. They often treated you as a little sister in that way, as if the pleasure was all yours to get to hear their ramblings because they were either older or perceived themselves to be more sociable and experienced than you. You tried not to care too much about what they took you for. It was nice to feel trusted, even if people could be a little too mean or weird for your liking because no matter who it was, they made you feel as if you were watching television, and you missed television. They told you things from period mishaps– (it’s the apocalypse, there are a lot of free bleeding queens okay)— to which people in their workstations annoyed them most with very detailed explanations as to why and, of course, rumors or general talk about the leaders: who they thought each of them has slept with, if there seemed to be any fighting between them and what side they were taking, and obviously, anything that had to do with one of the guys. Some were downright obvious that one or the other was their type, while others might try to be more sly about it, always bringing whichever man it was up more than the others. But unless they were diehard Daryl girls, wanted to dominate Glenn, or had some military man, hot priest, or doctor kink for Abraham, Gabriel, or Siddiq, most of them apparently felt that Rick was the love of their lives. He was like a local celebrity. A band’s frontman.

“So, what about you?” One of your scavenging partners asked on the ride home. “Which one do you like?”

“They’re all attractive guys,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road. “But I don’t really think about them like that.” You feel a flush coming on. Crushes, or anything romantic, is a part of your internal world, not something you discuss aloud.

“Come on,” she prods. “You never join in. You just laugh at us for being delusional.”

“Whose us?” Rosita asks, her voice sharp, humorous, and not without judgment. “I don’t talk about that shit.” But secretly, she loved the drama as much as you and would have many questions for you later tonight about why you have yet to tell her of the town obsession of treating her friends like the cast of a reality show.

“I don’t laugh at you! I like it when you guys talk about that stuff.”

“But what I’m saying is that I didn’t let you ride shotgun this time so you can hold out again,” the girl jokes half-heartedly.

“What do you mean this time? I get to ride shotgun because I’m the one with the CDs.”

And it’s true, the only thing that cancelled out the silence of drive in moments where conversation ceased was your Oasis album playing in the background. Learning about the band was your new obsession. Much like listening to the crazy imaginations of the girls in town, you found the Gallagher brother rivalry riveting even if you only knew pieces of the story from the music, scraps of magazine articles, and by asking whoever in town happened to be a teen in the 90s. Thankfully you had hit the jackpot today though. One of the houses you visited was once occupied by a dad and daughter with an insane music collection in the living room and a smaller, more curated one in the girl’s room. After gathering what new music you wanted to try from downstairs, you also found some old issues of QuizFest in the girl’s room, filled with activities that were themed with shows you remember from when you were a kid, but the most important discovery— the find of all finds— was one of those Ultimate Guide, Complete Life Story magazines of none other than the band Oasis.

You would now probably know all of the drama between the brothers to tell a coherent story about the band’s history to anyone who wanted an escape from walker related events and farming talk. When you weren’t listening, that’s what people would come to you for: to borrow music, get recommendations, or to tell them a story. In all, you were getting the reputation of being the town’s music historian, meaning you usually used your knowledge to avoid talking about yourself. And it mostly worked.

Except for now.

“Well, if I had to guess,” the girl persists despite your silence, “I think it would be Rick.”

“What?” Noticing the incredulity in your tone, you calm your voice. Shrugging you say, “Why Rick? Everyone likes him.”

Rosita sends a look your way. It’s innocent enough, probably just showing that she is still listening on as she drives but you were refusing to look at anyone now to know for sure.

“Exactly,” the girl says. “He’s a classic knight in shining armor type. I feel like he’d talk you through it, which I think would be good for— someone like you.”

Your face is on fire, you can’t even speak properly. “I- first of all, what do you know about my experience?” you ask, the incredulous tone returning. But all you get as an answer is knowing snorts and chortles from the two women. Ouch. Nonetheless, you continue, “Second, you think shooting a guy in the head in front of his wife and the whole town is chivalrous?”

Oh—

That makes car goes quiet.

You know you made a mistake.

You didn’t mean it as crassly as you said it, and you did feel bad for saying it knowing that the situation was more difficult than you summed it up to be, but you didn’t apologize. All this talk about crushes and especially Rick made you embarrassed. It’s not that you didn't see what others saw anyway. Of course you noticed how nice Rick’s curls are, how he doesn’t have to use any product for them to look as they do; or those blue eyes and how when you get closer, they become that much more stark and crisp; or how good he was at talking to people, convincing them of things or simply just reassuring them as a friend; and that southern drawl that still sometimes catches you by surprise by sounding so pronounced at the end of certain words, making his voice that much more intoxicating. Of course you saw the appeal, but that didn’t mean you had a crush on him.

Right?

Maybe it doesn’t matter. You just felt you knew better. He was like a president. You know of them, and you believe in them, but you don’t get close to them. And it didn’t matter that he told Carl to personally deliver you a stereo he and Daryl found while out once. How he remembered how you liked music. How he told Carl to tell you this one was probably better than the old one you had, that it was louder. You only showed him your old stereo that once when he was helping you move. He was just a perceptive guy with a good memory. All leaders are like that.

Right?

Anyway, let’s get back to your crass… joke.

“Hilarious.” Rosita says and you hear the low contempt in her voice at your insensitivity.

“That was ages ago though,” the girl chimes in, saving you just a little, “and he did it to help her. He didn’t care about the mess he made. He save her. I’d say that’s pretty romantic.”

“Let’s not call that romantic,” Rosita scoffs, and despite the slight frustration, there was a quiet sadness in her voice at the memory. “That wasn’t love.”

“That was reckless, not romantic.” You agree. Partly because you truly do, but also in attempt to win back favor from your friend. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

But after that day, it was all you could think about.

The idea of a knight; a romantic; someone that would do anything for you, ruin his reputation for you; find gifts from the outside that he’d send is son to give to you. Maybe you did find it charming, idyllic.

These thoughts soared in your mind so much so that on one night when thinking about boys from books or your favorite artists wasn't enough during moments under your sheets when your back arched and your fingers trailed up your thighs, your mind switched from people you would never meet to him, to Rick. Your eyes scrunched tighter, and you tried to shake it away, telling yourself it was just the women in town and the talk in the car getting to you. But then you thought about how rich and hot pink his lips looked on a bright sun-burning day and how it would feel like flames firing inside of you if he kissed you with them.

Ideas like these went on for nearly a year now. You even started questioned if maybe you had always liked him, maybe you were always just like the other girls even though tried to not be. You had thought it made you respectful, realistic; after all, how could Rick be the love of your life if he was everyone’s? Wonderings like this became even worse and more confusing when Rosita had asked if you’d like to move in with her. Becoming closer with her meant being around the leaders more often, which meant coincidental encounters and conversations with Rick as well. Quickly, he wasn’t just that president or celebrity anymore who talked to you sometimes and got you that stereo that once. He was becoming a peer— at least in some ways. One who was curious about your interests as much as your opinions. But it’s not exactly like you were in the in-crowd now as some people assumed. You didn’t get to go to leader meetings, and as much as you knew Rosita must have been telling you more than others know, she couldn’t have been telling you everything. But you did see him more than other people now, when he and the leaders came over to the house or when Rosita was invited over to theirs and she’s tell you to come too. And now, with these thoughts spiraling, you can’t help but to look back at the at the times where Rick approached you, gave you all his attention no matter how small it was and asked you about what you were listening to or reading that week, letting you ramble. He was an older guy, yes, but he cared, he actually listened, and he didn’t make you feel like the childish little sister others do.

Sadly, you did become the fawn like you had told yourself you wouldn’t be. But you couldn’t stop picturing him when you closed your eyes, and in fact, it was nice to imagine someone to fall asleep with, to wake up to. It was just going be your secret. Part of your fantasy world. But then— it all caught up to you.

Through the sliver of the open door he saw you, fingers between folds, goading yourself on as you chanted his name in whispers.

And to your surprise, he encouraged it. No, he did so much more than that— he helped you, made you come; gave you your first orgasm and made you his like no one has before.

You loved it. You gave into it. Even if it was just one secret moment. It made you give into the idea that this would continue but of course, it didn’t. He hasn’t spoken to you in almost three weeks until—

“Woah-” you gasp, almost crashing into just the person as you exit your room.

“Sorry,” you both say in unison, holding onto each other's forearms before quickly letting go. Your arms cross over into your chest before dropping as you enter your room again, clearing the hallway, and his hands go behind his back. He’s still as unsteady as you are, his mouth is slightly open, thinking of what to say.

“Hi,” you whisper tentatively.

“Good morning,” he politely replies. His eyes now smile slightly as he nods to you. You don’t miss how the light emanating from your bright room makes them shine. And he doesn’t miss how the light shining behind your figure makes you, in your white cotton sundress, look like an absolute angel.

“Good morning,” you repeat, giggling slightly, not knowing what else to say.

“Good morning,” he says again, lost and as giddy as you are.

“Oh wait— is the leader’s meeting here today?” Rick starts to nod and answers yes as you continue to speak, “I totally forgot! I’m sorry. I know I should be gone by now.”

He shakes his head, “It’s fine. I was just going to the bathroom.”

“Here? Was someone in the one downstairs?”

“Just wanted to be away from everyone when they came. Daryl and I came early so we started talking and I just- we didn’t see eye to eye on something. I needed a minute.”

You nod. That seems to be your signature when to talk to him. You hated it honestly. Often over-analyzing your words, worrying you’ll sound immature or stutter in front of him. “I'm sorry,” you tell him sympathetically. For a moment there is only silence which makes you worry he will go away, so without thinking, you ask: “I know you’re busy but, if you need a moment, maybe you would like to come in here instead?”

Rick freezes but then, inevitably agrees. As he enters, you close the door and quickly go to shut off the low playing stereo and rehang some of the dresses on your chair in the closet— you had been getting ready for the day. Rick goes to sit on the chair after you empty it but you stop him. You sit on the vertical side of your bed and guesture Rick to sit in the spot next to you, closer to the headboard. You wanted to sit next to him.

Rick doesn’t question this, maybe he wanted to be as close to you as you had, so as he sits, your thighs touch. You try not to move too much at the first contact. Still, the heat that starts to burn inside you makes you realize how much you’ve craved this. Can two weeks feel like a lifetime? It’s like you haven’t felt him in ages.

“What were you playing today?” He asks and you realize you eyes went straight to the area where yours and Rick’s legs touched. You know he noticed but still you try to answer normally.

“Selena. Rosita loves her. It’s one of her most famous songs: Amor Prohibido.”

He nods. “I probably wouldn’t understand a bit of it,” he laughs.

He would probably remember the singer from the news if you gave more context but you don’t. There is a silence that follows until you ask, “So,” starting slowly, “what’s wrong? Is Daryl aright?”

He doesn’t answer. His mouth is open as if he’s deciding what to say, but nothing comes out, so you continue, “You know, nothing is ever right in the world when Rick and Daryl fight. It makes me sad.”

The joke makes those lines at the sides of his eyes appear— a quiet laugh. “Well you know I’d never want to make you sad. Especially not you.” You two exchange a light smile while that heat rises fast to your heart. “We’ll be fine,” he finally says, but then he goes quiet again. Rick seems unsure if he wants to continue. He even looks at the door, wonders if the others have shown up yet, but— he knows he doesn’t want to leave. And even more, he knows he shouldn’t after ignoring you like some teenage boy. He decides to tell you what’s happening: “Daryl wants us to bring new people in. You know how he’s always going out there. But I think it’s way too soon.”

You hum agreeingly, but at the same time, you understand Daryl. “I think he just likes to give people what he never used to have,” you suggest.

“I know,” he nods a bit annoyedly; “and that’s a nice way to put it, but you know him, when he has his mind set on somethin’ he can be so damn stubborn. It’s frustrating. He won’t compromise or listen to anything.”

Endearingly, you try to withhold a laugh, your lisp pursing. Not only because when he says anything, it actually sounds like anythang, but because Rick sounds like he’s describing himself and he doesn’t even realize it.

“And,” he adds, pausing for a moment before he continues, scratching his beard. It looks as if maybe he shouldn’t tell you what he’s about to. His head hangs low to say: This is not information for everyone to know, okay? But the last time he went out there with Glenn, the reason Glenn’s arm is in a sling right now, is because they met a group, tried to bring them back and before they could make it even close to home, the group fought ‘em, tried to steal what they scavenged, and almost kill Glenn.”

You widen your eyes at the statement. You actually already knew this from Rosita, but that will stay between you two. All you feel is humbled that he felt he share it with you, despite it being a dark thing. It was a close call. Rick was right for being very cautious right now. “Wow,” is all you can get in before he speaks again.

“Imagine if we lost him. Fought this war with his wife and unborn baby at the time for nothing? So he couldn’t even meet him?” Rick shakes his head, and you notice his foot tapping lightly, making his knee bounce. This had happened a month ago now but it was obviously affecting him. “It was reckless and I told him that. That right now we need to be focusing on what’s inside these walls. People have only just started getting back to being comfortable now; to feeling like this is a home.”

Your eyes remain wide, “We did so much rebuilding you.”

“We did complete rebuilding.” He corrects, though not rudely. Shaking his head, he goes back to talking about Daryl: “I think I made it seem like what happened to Glenn was his fault. So not only were we arguing but I must’ve hurt him,” Rick realizes, “and now he definitely won’t be back today— maybe not even until next week.”

A silence hangs in the air after this; it seems he finished. Now, you know you should speak, but as the silence continues, you grow more unsure of what to say. Issues like these are things you’ve never dealt with. You didn’t want to say something stereotypical.

“I’m sorry I’m putting all this on you.”

“No, no,” you quickly console, trying to think. “Um, well,” you say, starting unsteadily, “this is probably going to sound stupid and not helpful. I don’t even remember the exact context or what was truly said so it might not make any sense either but, do you remember when I had my Oasis obsession? Earlier this year?”

“I do,” he laughs, turning his head over to your music table. His eyes scan any of the visible album titles to see if he can find it, but the print on most of them are too small. He turns back to you as you continue:

“This is going to sound a little far off but I think you and Daryl are like Liam and Noel.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Didn’t those two hate each other?”

“I mean, yes— but it’s much more complicated than that to me— but no, I don’t mean in that way. It just that there is this quote Noel says that I don’t remember exactly, but I really liked: he said that even though he wrote the music and Liam did the singing that Liam meant the words just as much as Noel did because they’re brothers and he wrote them. I thought that was beautiful, but…” you trail off.

He stays silent, trying to give you space to find your words but you feel like you’ve gone too far. It’s all pretty convoluted and not a true comparison to what’s going on that you’re even confusing yourself a little. “I think what I mean is that even though they have their different roles, they still feel very similar things and believe in the same purpose. I think that’s like you and Daryl. You two are so similar yet so different. But there’s still a binding force that always brings the two of you together. So, like I’m sure you already know and I didn’t even need to tell you, but you two will be okay. You two have different ways of doing things, but the music or the life you’re trying to create in Alexandria still has the same meaning to the both of you.” You laugh small and breathily as you end. “That probably didn’t make sense.”

Rick smiles to himself. “I didn’t get that first bit, with the quote, but no… that made a lot of sense to me.” He nods toward you and you return his smile. “You’re so bright. You know that? Not everyone knows how to stitch things together like that the way you do.”

This makes you feel good. Rick thought you were smart. You know you should say thank you, but instead, something else comes out: “May I, may I kiss you?”

“Yes,” he answers, almost stuttering it out, a hint of hesitation before he did, but he nods so kindly, so reassuringly as he tells you again: “yes.”

Your fingers touch his lower cheeks lightly, feeling the bristles of his beard. You’re slow, and careful, and scared. Your fingers linger on his jaw for a moment until they completely caress his right cheek and then you move in, swiftly— worried you’ll lose your confidence, worried he’ll change his mind. You catch his lower lip and seal the kiss. Your lips are locked for a few seconds until you retreat. It was nice, and exciting, but short. You knew you could have put your tongue in his mouth. You believe he would have let you because you remember when he did it last time, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself by doing it wrong and once again reminding him how much you don’t know. But you’re sure giving him a grade school kiss like this one was enough of a reminder.

Your eyes roll down, chin low. Your cheeks are on fire and your hands do not know where to go so you start fiddling with the hem of your dress and then you laugh. You were trying to be courageous this time, and you were, but you also weren’t.

Rick grabs your left hand, holding it at the end of your thigh, “I liked that,” he says softly.

“You did?” You ask as softly as he, eyes meeting his.

A short, airy snicker comes out, “Mhm,” he hums, giving you a closed-mouth smile. He found you simply adorable.

“Can I… try it again?”

Rick pulls on your forearm, attempting to bring you closer to him. “Yeah,” he nods, voice gentle. “Do you want me to help?”

You nod before you speak, happily accepting, “Yes.”

He puts your hands on his shoulders. One of his grabs onto your waist and the other holds you lightly under your chin, adjusting your head to meet his lips. The first kiss he places holds just for a couple of moments as the one you gave him did, gentle but packed with longing. The next two are slow, pretty pecks that already have you melting at his touch, lips agape waiting for the next one. The fourth is the one where he brings his tongue into your mouth, carefully bringing it in quarter by quarter. He tastes the top of your mouth and tongue and you feel him as he slowly starts to explore how far you may like to go, but truly you become stagnant other than your hands that press into his shoulder. Luckily, Rick either doesn’t notice your hesitation or is already silently helping you as he takes the lead, pulling you closer by the hips and slipping his tongue in and out of your mouth to kiss you more. It makes you smile— the excitement of your first make-out session. You giggle, and then it makes him smile too and your teeth slightly bump into each other. Accidently you nip his lip because of it, making you pull back.

Your fingers hover over your lips as you impart a quiet apology but Rick just shakes his head giving you another quick kiss instead. He starts to move back on your bed, back pressed again the headboard and he tells you quietly, “Come here.”

You get up and sit higher up on the bed as well, calves folded under your thighs. He takes one of your legs and starts to put it over his as he asks, “Is this okay?”

You nod, vigor growing as you do it now, thrilled to sit on his lap. Your dress bunches around your hips and the tops of your thighs. You move closer to press your chest into his and you kiss him first again, another small one but with intent as you look at him afterward, feeling the scratch of his beard on your fingertips as you smile at him, in awe that this is happening.

“You want to try this time?”

“Uh,” he means you put your tongue in his mouth this time, but you’re afraid to do it wrong but you know you want to say yes so you do, “Yes, okay.”

So he brings you in again and you kiss him. He mouth opens a little and you try to bring your tongue in slightly but you teeth clash. “Sorry,” and quickly he responds that it’s okay and rubs your cheek, telling you to just open your mouth a little wider, no teeth, let your tongue go on top of his.

You try it. Your tongues meet again, licking each other tips before you slowing press in more, your chest touching his as you try to close the gap.

Rick starts slowly rocking your hips against his and he takes control of the kiss again. It helps you not think, you like it. And you like the feeling of that incoming tight bulge starting to form under his jeans, but then you let go. “Wait,” you say, “I like this.” You pause for a moment, confusing him more as to why you stopped. “But… there is something I wanted to ask you.”

“Okay,” his hand stay fixed on your hips and waist, rubbing soothily, “What it is?”

Another pause. “I feel nervous,” you whisper.

“You have no reason to be, sweetheart. You can ask me anything.”

You laugh, smiling as you look off to the side. Anythang.

He smiles too, although unknowingly to what you found funny. His head tilts as he tries to find your gaze and turn it towards him again.

“Well, the last time we were together here you taught me how to do something. You taught me how to pleasure myself better so,” you stutter, “I want to pleasure you. If that’s okay. And I was wondering if you’d teach me how- to touch you here.” You remove yourself from straddling him and point in the direction of his cock.

Instantly he feels a stir of his already hardening dick.

This is not how he expected things to go this time. Or truly, he didn’t expect any of this at all, but when you asked to kiss him he decided he would be gentle, more giving. It felt like you wanted him to take again, the exact thing he was trying not to do. “I feel like I took advantage of you last time.”

“Rick…” you shake your head. “I’m the one who didn’t close the door all the way. You asked if it was okay and then you asked if you could go faster. I said yes to everything…” You start to worry— is he second guessing everything now?—“I feel maybe we remember this differently.” You bow your head again now. Feeling ashamed, wondering if he did.

Rick places one hand on your knee to comfort you although he still says, “It’s just that I’ve never done something like this before.” His thumb sways on your skin. “I just don’t want you to end up feeling like you’re wasting your time. Your first times.”

You’re surprised, “It’s so funny how you can be so self-assured in front of a crowd and now you don’t think you’re good enough.” You take his hand and press it towards your chest. Your heart was racing. “I like you. So much.” You swallow as he says your name softly, realizing how fast your heart was going. “No one in town is truly ever mean to me or anything, and Rosita has been so kind with letting me move in with her and we talk and its nice but, you know— she has her flings and her friendships that are separate from mine and everyone just always seems like they have their person and I just don’t. I don’t have my person, or any person.” You remove your hands from your chest but Rick still holds onto it, squeezing your hand as you start speaking again. “You’re kind, Rick, and you make me excited, and you remember things about me… “ If your face could get any hotter, it does, “And, well, you’re very handsome. If you could teach me again, I would like that.”

God… Rick was trying to be a romantic yet you were so adamant on getting him off. He laughed inwardly, shaking his head, deciding that the best way to handle this situation— and make up for some of his guilt as he was trying to— would be to give you the thing you say you want and not what he thinks you want. Suppose that’s one for widower’s wisdom.

Decidedly, Rick gets up from the bed, giving you a once over, still admiring how adorable, and how sexy, you look to him with your feet under your lap, hands on your knees as you look up at him from the bed and your white dress. He starts undoing his shirt buttons. “Remember when I did this the first time?”

A smirk came on, there’s the Rick you remember. Blue eyes intense, and voice getting cocky as he gets ready to give you what you need, what he knows you only want from him.

“Yes,” you say quiet yet with budding excitement. You start going for the hem of your dress, “Should I start taking this off too?”

“Mm, stay like that.” He’s taking off his belt. “Thought you looked beautiful in it right when I saw you.”

Your thighs squeeze together slightly. Rick Grimes was undressing before you, for you, and calling you smart and beautiful all the while.

As Rick lowers his boxers, his cock springs up. He returns to his spot on the bed, back leaning against the headboard. All of a sudden he seems to truly recognize that he is the only one exposed. He would tell you what to do, guide you, but in a small way, in a way you probably didn’t realize, you were in control. It seems that each time this happens— although it’s only been twice— and each time he talks to you— which has been plenty— you steal a little more of Rick’s heart and he just can’t stop it.

“So,” he clears his throat, your eager eyes on his cock making him twitch, “you usually just wrap your hand around, start from the base and keep pumping up.” He shakes his head, “there’s not too much too it but it’s best to keep your hand light at the start, you—”

You nod quickly, “May I?”

As he nods back you, “Yes.” And as he says it you’re already licking your hand.

“Is it okay if I spit? That helps right? Or is that nasty to you?”

He’s caught off guard, “No, no, that helps.”

So you do and you place your hand lightly at the base as he said and you start to pump. Instantly, he lets out a gasp, and the next noises that follow are repressed grunts and groans. You want to ask him to stop doing that but you’re a little scared to speak up that way just yet and you’re too engrossed in how you can see the light veins of green and blue on him and how he’s so red at the tip. It was honestly exciting. Just this, touching him with your hand, staring at his member and watching him twitch as his mouth opens to pant lightly. It still felt unreal but you liked it and you were happy to learn. You start to pump him more towards the top, placing your thumb on his slit- pressing in. His abs clench at that. You push in a little harder and you squeeze your fist around him a little— testing it out to see what happens—and he groans, unadulterated this time, “oh, fuck.”

The heel of your foot that’s under your lap pushes into your center at that.

You start pumping faster. “Am I doing good, Rick?”

Hearing your voice sets him off, “Fuck, sweetheart. Yes.” He’s honestly choking out each of his words, he didn’t expect to get so turned on by all of this. He realizes the last time he had sex was with you that first time, and before that… he can’t even remember. “You’re doing an amazing job.”

As you pump, you start to slow down, only doing it shallowly towards his base. You’re feeling confident and you kiss the side of him, licking a fat stripe up to the top and then you pump him fully again.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he breathes out. He wants to tell you to slow down but it comes out of nowhere, he stutters before he can even speak. An unintelligible groan mixed with a moan comes out abrupt and louder than he intends and white spurts of liquid come out.

You go faster for a few moments, then start to slow down, a little unsure of what is best to do, but you notice when you start squeezing him a little more as you continue to pump up and more whiteness fall out from inside of him.

“Did I, make you come?”

“Yeah,” he says, huffing.

“I did?” your cheekbones rise as you ask with awe— it was another first for the books.

Rick’s tries to let his embarrassment fade, he can tell you were just excited about it, but still, he looks down and to the side, avoiding direct eye contact— almost like you typically would. You peer at him, almost nervously because of it. Rick is usually the confident one. “Doesn’t always happen that fast,” he explains.

“Well before a month ago I didn’t know how to make myself come so I wouldn’t know,” you say with self-deprecating assurance. You had heard from the girls in town that it was easier to make men orgasm. You already had it in your head as something not to judge. You wonder how hard he must have been restraining himself the first time he placed himself inside you, or if it just happened to be easier for him that time around. “I didn’t expect I could do it or anything really. I thought it was…” you smile while giggling, “interesting.”

“A good interesting I hope.”

“Very,” you assure. “I liked it.” You kiss his cheek as you take some wipes that are by your night stand and you start cleaning him up. He doesn’t tell you that you don’t have to; he helps along with you.

“You sure you’ve never done any of this before?”

You shake your head. “I just read fiction books.”

He smiles to himself, a quiet snort of laughter leaving his nose. You always surprise him.

When you two are done cleaning, he puts his boxers back on. Quickly, he is on the bed again and starts to kissing you. Rick holds your shoulder and pushes you down. Finally, it’s time for his redemption, he feels. It was your turn to be pleasured. Just like he wanted to do from the beginning.

Rick kisses down your neck to your collarbone, and the parts of your exposed chest and he pushes your dress up past your hips. His lips move back up to yours, kissing you more before saying, “I really wanna show you something sweetheart.” He presses his thumb into your clit over your underwear. “Can I kiss you down there? Have you ever had that before?”

You shake your head slowly, eyes wide. “I-” you start nodding your head, “-I would really like that.” And in such a small voice you add, “Please.”

Rick kisses your cheek. Deep and softly he breathlessly tells you, “I would love to.”

Rick moves his head lower and gives you slow kisses over your underwear from your mound to the end of your lips. He starts to drag your panties over your legs and once they’re gone he kisses up your thighs. Then his nose rubs and sways ever so lightly on your lips. He breathes in and it makes you shutter. Your heart is going crazy again. Finally, he licks upward. One long and languid stripe ending with a kiss to your clit and then he truly begins.

Tongues are wet and sticky and everything you ever dreamed of. Your eyes roll back instantly from that first lick and kiss. You remember a time when you started touching yourself that you used to never think of receiving oral. You thought it was scary, nasty, that you wouldn’t like it until the moment you thought about it as a million kisses on your most sensitive lips, or someone liking you so much that they’d get drenched by your wetness just to touch you, to taste you. After that, you thought about it all the time and now it was finally happening– someone needing you so much they just had to know what you taste like. Here he was: kissing, licking, sucking, not caring about how he looks but only how you feel— you now knew what it was like to be desired.

Rick presses his tongue flat on your clit, rubbing deep circles. His eyes are open, looking up at how your mouth opens wider and wider. You let out little whimpers, enamored by his tongue, still deciding if you like the scratch of his beard, but your eyes stay glued to the ceiling, scared to look at the scene below.

He gives you kitten licks in between speaking, “Look down. Don’t miss your first time.”

Your eyes go down slowly, watching as he gives open mouth kisses to your clit and right lip, tilting his head. He stays there for a moment, hearing your short and breathy pants, kissing and licking your clit and lower lips like they were the ones above your chin. His eye contact sends bursts of sticky wet fluid down your hole and you release a whimpered moan, they’re always sp short and soft and high pitched. He can tell you like it but he can also see you’re nervous. You don’t trust yourself, you know it, and he’s starting to realize it too. You’re scared of completely letting go.

He peppers kisses to your clit before moving upward, his tongue rolling and mouth kissing from your lower stomach to your breasts till his face reaches yours again. “No one’s here,” he tells you. He then kisses your lips allowing you to taste yourself for the first time. “Relax,” he whispers, rolling out each syllable. He holds your chin with one hand while he inserts a finger into your hole with the other, his pointer is instantly drenched and you shudder at the feeling. His single calloused finger reminds you of the time he was last inside you. He pumps slowly, looking into your eyes as he speaks, “Don’t think about who could come downstairs.”

“What if Rosita or Daryl come back?”

“What if?” He says it so simply as if he’s ready for everyone to know. Truly, that would be an issue, but right now it was not about him and it was completely about you; he wanted to give. It was short-sighted, reckless, yes, but… you were just so pretty, so bright, so insightful, and he felt like he needed to make up for all the taking he did last time, of your first time. Rosita had went to run after Daryl, hopefully no one was here anyway. But again, he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. “Lay back,” he gently commands, “forget what I said before- close your eyes. Just give in to it. Like I’m the only one who's here.”

Rick licks zig zag stripes down your slit and then he decides to insert his tongue in your hole. He goes as deep as his tongue allows, collecting your wetness and trying to swallow it in moments when he turns back to kissing. He his nose is brushing and rubbing up against your clit as he sucks wetness from down below and you start letting out stringy moans you can’t control. Soft, pretty, and continuous, “uh, ah, uh, uh” that turn into “sorry, I’m sorry.” You’re still self-conscious about your own noises. This was still only the second time you’ve heard the sounds you make when someone else is fucking you.

But Rick shushes you. Giving small kisses to your clit as he looks up at you, seeing your scrunched eyes and open mouth. “I like knowing you like it, pretty girl. I like all those pretty sounds you’re making.”

Your pussy tightens around nothing at that phrase.

“Keep going. You don’t have to be shy.” He grabs your chin and you look down at him. His beard is wet. “We’ve already made a mess anyway.”

He starts kissing your labias, licking up wetness when you decide to ask, nervously, “Can you make sounds too?”

Instantly, Rick goes again to kiss your clit, humming into it as he sucks. Breathing against you he says, “Want me to tell you I like it, sweetheart?” His tongue slides down again, tongue reaching into your hole and he moans into your pussy.

Your back arches and you mewl, you could almost scream.

That’s it, he thinks. Rick keeps humming and groaning into you now. His voice is so seductive. “I love tasting your pussy, baby.”

You couldn’t breathe.

Rick starts rubbing your clit with his thumb and going fast with his tongue in your hole “My bright, pretty girl gonna come for me? Hm?”

“Oh, Rick, I want to. Please, Rick.”

Rick starts to go faster and your brain turns to mush. Only noises coming out and when he stops his tongue movements to say something more you push his head down. “Sorry,” you say. You’ve never been forceful before but he says nothing, just continues going down on you and taking his free hand to place it over his, gesturing that he wants your hands in his hair. You tug on his curls and he grunts into you. You start chanting his name and then he switches to placing his lips on your clit and putting two fingers in your pussy. It reminded you of the first time but instead of your three fingers they were two of his and it felt so much better than you ever knew before, better than you could ever do it yourself. It sets you off. Your eyes shut tighter if they could. “Rick! Oh my god,” you moan and then again and again and then you come.

Rick laps at your cunt, vigorously trying to wipe you clean. He makes it look like it will be the last and only time. It makes you worry but at the same time he looks so sexy like that; needy for you even after you finished.

He takes your wipes and cleans his lips before cleaning you up as you did for him. He kisses you thighs and your lips and your cheeks as he continues. “You did such a good job,” he says. “You always do.”

You’re filled with pride at that. “Thank you.” Then worry sets in. You realize how public you’ve made everything. “Did I just ruin your life?”

He laughs while caressing your thigh. That anxious expression of yours that he just got rid of returns after all the work he did.

“I’m gonna check downstairs. Okay? If they’re there, they’re there.” You nod. We already made a mess anyway, you remember him saying. “They might want to start the meeting when I go down so, whatever happens, happens alright? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Your eyes are still nervous, but it’s all too late anyway. “Okay,” you respond.

“Okay,” he says back, kissing you once more. As he dresses himself again, he tells you, “I promise I won’t wait two weeks to see you again.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he says as a send off and goes into the bathroom to clean his face.

When he reaches the living room, there is no one. Rick is thankful but confused.

As he nears the coffee table there is a sheet of yellow lined legal pad with a talkie next to it.

Call when you’re done, it reads.

“Rosita?” He questions into the device. Who else could it have been, right?

He can almost hear the grin on her face. “They should start calling you Reckless Rick for all the agony you put these Alexandria girls through.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “There’s just something about that stupid hair cowboy accent, I guess.”

Before he can respond, telling her that it’s absurd to think of him as a playboy, that he was far from it, she continues:

“So, fucking my roommate? You’re glad Glenn and Maggie called everyone over to theirs instead. Hershel took his first steps while you were teaching someone else how to take theirs.”

She unpressed the button to suppress her laughter. “Just get over here,” she concludes, putting down the walkie and going back to meet the rest of the group with a perfect poker face. She tells everyone Rick will be here shortly.

Oh, Alexandria’s leader and her new little best friend who has been hearing the townswomen’s fantasies of him for years: Reckless Rick and his reckless romantic girl.

Rosita would give you so much shit for this when she gets home.

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x reader smut #rick grimes x fem!reader #rick grimes x female reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x y/n smut #rick grimes x you #rick grimes smut #rick grimes fic #rick grimes fluff #twd fanfiction #twd smut #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead smut #the walking dead fic #the walking dead fanfic

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reidmania · 4 months ago

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Hiii, I’m sorry if this is super awkward, I’ve never sent a request before. (If this has been done before please ignore it). A reader who is really, really clumsy. Like walks into walls, drops everything, constantly having bruises that they dong know how they got there, and they’ve been made self conscious of being clumsy because lots of people have made fun of them? Reader falls down the stairs, or something like that, while carrying something of boyfriend!Spencer’s, maybe a gift for him or something to do with doctor who that he really likes? Like a figurine or something like that. It gets broken slightly, it can be fixed easily, but reader freaks out thinking that Spencer will be super upset and angry with them? But ofc Spencer just cares that reader is okay and not hurt?

If this is a really bad idea please ignore it, I’m not very good with ideas lol. Thanks :)

CLUTZ | spencer reid

summary; reader is shattered when they accidentally breaks the gift they got for spencer, while spencer only cares about them.

warnings; gn reader, mentions of being clumsy, crying, mentions of being insecure, mentions blood and bruises, grazes and injuries, hurt x comfort

an; you didn’t specify a gender so i just made it gender neutral i think but i saw this right before going to my birthday dinner and was ACHING to write it. this is so cute thank u so much for requesting

You think you stopped breathing.

There was a rough thumping in your chest, so you knew you were still alive — as much as you wished you weren’t in this moment — but you think you stopped breathing.

The ground held the pieces of the plastic figurine. The one you had spent waiting in line all morning for the minute Spencer said he wanted it — unfortunately he had to work so he wouldn’t be there and would likely miss out.

You wouldn’t have that when you saw how badly he wanted it.

Only in this moment you couldn’t stop thinking about how if he had been the one to get it, there wouldn’t be broken pieces of the figurine all over the floor right now.

You were making it a bigger deal in your head than what it was, it wasn’t in many pieces, the plastic head had just fallen off, but built up guilt and insecurity made its way through your veins and buried themselves right behind your eyes pushing the tears forward.

You always did this.

No matter what it was, spilling coffee on yourself, tripping up stairs or over your own feet, dropping things or walking into desks and doors. No matter what — you were constantly covered in bruises, no matter how much you tried to be careful its like your body never alined with what was in front of you.

“Baby?” You looked up from the floor where the broken figurine laid. You hadn’t realised you were in fact breathing — although it came out uneven and harsh as you struggled to calm the build of anxiety in your blood stream.

Your eyes landed on Spencer as he looked over you worryingly. Maybe you should’ve stood up from where you had tripped, landing on your knees which were now bleeding with grazes.

You had messaged Spencer to meet you outside, however you had not expected to trip over your own feet in excitement sending the figurine out of your hands and your body to the ground.

You suddenly felt the pain coursing through your legs, a small sound of pain ushered your lips as the tears lining your eyes began to cloud your vision, causing Spencer to be covered by blurry vision.

“Im sorry” You ushered out as your hands sprawled open and closed as you tried to calm yourself down but it wasn’t working. Spencer didn’t say anything for a moment as he bent down to your level, offering a hand to you.

“What happened angel?” His tone was so soft, so gentle, so sweet. The tone you couldn’t feel less deserving of. You took his hand as his other pressed gently under your other arm to help you out as his eyes scanned over your body, lips parting as his eyes settled on the blood pooling a little around the graze on your knees.

“Im so sorry — I am such an idiot! I don’t even- I was just walking, Spence Im so sorry, I know how bad you wanted this and I just completely ruined it, i ruined the entire thing and they’re all sold out I got the second last one, Im so sorry.” You rambled as hot tears fell from your eyes as you blinked, they burnt their trail down your cheeks leaving their residue aflame.

“What?” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as his eyes looked down to the floor to the figure that was in two parts. He looked back at you as his eyebrows furrow deepened. His hands gracing over your side in the gentlest touch, just allowing their comforting presence to be known. “Who cares about that— How about you come inside and I’ll clean you up yeah?” He said softly, eyes dropping back down to your knees.

“I care!! And you do!! You wanted this, Spence — And - and i wanted to do this for you. You do so much for me and I couldn’t even get you a bloody gift without completely ruining it.” You ushered out in a broken sob as your hands rose to your face to provide somewhat of a soothing sensation to your skin that felt like on the verge of ashes from the tears that grazed them — but it made no difference.

Spencer frowned as he listened to you speak, his hand paused softly on your hips before rising your face, replacing your hands with his own as he cupped your cheeks softly. “I care about you angel. I care that you are bleeding right now. I care that you are obviously in pain and you are more worried about something that we can fix” He said softly, his thumb rubbing over your cheek softly.

You didn’t say anything as you leaned into his touch instinctively. “Im sorry” You repeat gently as your hands frail by your side. The tears don’t stop but they fall more silently as they continue to fill your eyes no matter your attempt to blink them away.

He coos, “Theres nothing you have to be sorry about sweetheart. You did nothing wrong. Can we get you inside and clean you up?” He speaks so gently and softly it makes your stomach tighten and your chest clench as if someone is holding it in a death grip. — how you deserved him was beyond you.

“I always do this” You mutter, shaking your head. His hands are brushing hairs away from your face and thumbs are brushing the hot tears that fall, his hands providing a cooling sensation over the burning paths of the tears. “I suck” You laugh out, but it’s not all that funny.

He shakes his head as he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, before he leant down to pick up the figurine that landed on the floor between you and him. You watch his hands work and in moments the head is reattached, theres a little bit a scrape on the plastic of it, but nothing big.

“Easy fix honey. I love it, and don’t get me wrong I am so insanely grateful for you and that you went out of your way to get it but i’m more worried about you” He said, his hand coming to the back of your head to softly drag you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a soft hug that he knew you needed.

You bury your face in the warmth of his sweater vest, his lips kissing your hair softly repeatedly. “Let’s go inside and get you cleaned up.. Can you do that for me honey?” He almost whispered as his fingers smoothed out your hair gently.

You finally nodded into his chest as the tears subsided, your breathing came out shaking but less heavy and throaty than it was previously. His comfort providing you a the resemblance of a lifeline.

He thanked you softly as he took his hands in yours, leading you inside the figurine tight in his other hand as he looks over every few steps to make sure you were okay, he could see the pain evident in your face in every step you took and he wanted nothing more than to scoop you up and carry you to his desk but he knew you would just be embarrassed by the attention from other people looking, so instead his hand squeezed your hand gently.

Finally you relaxed against the wall of the elevator and Spencers hands were instantly tucked under your thighs, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. “Spence” You whisper out as your face goes red.

“It’s just my team, baby. Id rather you not in pain” He said softly as his hand pressed against the small of your back softly. You did nothing more than sigh in response as your head rested against his shoulder softly.

He was bringing you to his desk and placing you gently in his chair only moments later. He was on his knees in seconds, fingers searching through his draw for antiseptic wipes that he kept in there constantly for two reasons.

1, because the world was gross.

2, because you were always getting yourself hurt.

“Gonna sting baby” He said softly, hands working to peel over the individual wrapping. You felt the burn when the wipe hit the graze on your knee, a quiet wince left your lips as your face screwed up.

Spencer frowned as he leant up to the top of your knee over the skin he had just cleaned and pressed his lips softly against it, as his hand continued wiping over the graze gently. “I know darling, Im sorry.” He whispered quietly.

You let the feeling of his lips against your skin take over the pain. His hand scrambled softly back in his draw for bandages.

“Im sorry” You muttered again as he places the bandaids gently across the scarred skin. He looked up at you with eyes filled with nothing but admiration and love, the look making your stomach drop in a way you couldn’t explain if your life depended on it.

He tsked slightly, shaking his head as he pressed his lips gently over your knee again, “No apologies, cmon” He said softly as he used a new wipe to clean his hands before taking yours in his own. “It was an accident. You couldn’t control it and you have no reason to apologise for it, as long as you are okay, I don’t care about anything else” He spoke clearly with so much intent you felt in piece through the insecurity that build up your body.

He leant up to place a gently kiss on your lips. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, once his lips separated from yours he stood up properly, hands remaining in yours as his thumb rubbed over the soft skin on the back of your hair softly.

You wondered how he put up with it, how he put up with you — but then he would looked at you with eyes full of admiration and his hands would graze your skin so softly as if you were something so delicate. He would talk to you as if his entire world depended on protecting you, and then there was no room for insecurity or doubt in your mind when it was all too consumed with him.

“Im okay.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds show #criminal minds x reader #criminalmindsfans #spencer criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #wattpad #criminal minds one shot #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid

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eumivrse · 1 year ago

Text

warning(s) pure angst, jjk chapter 120 SPOILERS

arguments with kento are always the worst.

you’ve learned over the years that you’d probably prefer it if he would just scream back when he’s mad rather than being dead silent.

because when he’s angry, he doesn’t speak. he just gives you space to cool off, then he always makes sure to kiss you before you sleep. a way to let you know that tomorrow is a new day and he still loves you the same even if things are heated; that you can always talk it out with him.

you hate it because he always, always apologizes first even if it’s your fault sometimes, but you always appreciated his way of communicating. it’s as if he would rather take the jab every time than have you mad at him.

however, he couldn’t do so that day— october 31, 2018. he had to go to shibuya and left with tension between the two of you. you don’t even remember what exactly you argued about— all you recall was that it ended with you both saying something that could’ve easily passed as unforgivable, words specifically chosen to wound each other’s feelings.

and as per, kento gave you your space and left with you having the last word.

except you never got that good night’s kiss.

when news reached you, you didn’t even react. how could you? the last words you said to him was “then leave already,” with the coldest, meanest tone you’ve ever spoken to him in.

you just stared at the wall for what seemed like days. people were calling you non stop, but your phone was turned off. you hadn’t even left your shared bedroom. the comforter still had his scent on it and you’re afraid that it’ll disappear if you get up for even a minute and then his passing will feel real.

it wasn’t until ino stopped by to drop off his cellphone— one of the only traces he left that night— that you did something else besides laying down. you stared at kento��s scuffed lock screen, sitting at the dim dining room table.

his wallpaper was a photo of you. he took it while you were eating in the very place you’re sitting in right now and you begged him for days to delete it. he insisted that you looked pretty so you let him be. he’d always been like that, so stern with others but he had such a soft spot for you.

you knew his password because it was your anniversary date, then the messaging app opened as soon as you punched the numbers in. it’s your chat, the last conversation you had on there was him asking if you wanted to eat outside because he was free the next morning and you obliged. that was the night before you had an argument the next day and lunch plans were cancelled.

he had an unsent message— all typed out, but he never pressed the send button for some reason.

he was apologizing for hurting you.

he said that he knows it’s been tough for you these days and how he should’ve seen the signs sooner instead of thinking everything’s okay.

then he apologized again for not being able to kiss you goodnight, and for being a shitty husband that couldn’t tend to his wife’s needs.

the message concluded with “i miss you, my precious girl. make sure to eat and sleep well, i’ll make it up to you soon.”

kento’s death hadn’t hit your reality until those words on the screen registered in your mind. your dry, pale lips from barely drinking water trembled, eyes welled up in tears for the first time since you found out. so many different emotions crashed over you in such little time, your chest felt tight and you let go of his phone, clattering onto the wooden table.

“then leave already,” replayed in your mind over and over and the way his face turned pale from your harsh words. with how things turned out, it almost sounded like you were sending him on death’s row and it made you feel like you’re responsible somehow.

guilt loomed over you like a stormy cloud for making him feel like he wasn’t good enough for you and you wonder how different the future might’ve turned out if you’ve at least gave him a hug before he left.

if you could’ve just set your pride aside and kissed him goodbye like he does with you before you sleep.

and if he still loved you the same at his final moments.

#yikes #why am i feeling guilty lolol #mentally preparing myself when it gets animated #might not be accurate to the plot but tbh idc #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk angst #nanami angst #kento nanami #nanami kento angst

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hughesyodaddy43 · 7 months ago

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Just maybe ⎸ N.H

Pairings: Nico Hischier x reader genre: friends to lovers Warnings: swearing, fluff synopsis: when a hopeless romantic doesn't pick up on hints. word count: 2.3k authors note: first Nico fic! i hope you like it. Requests are open. missing the devils rn :(

Nico, Nico, Nico was all your mind would wander to, from late nights to early mornings your mind was crowded with the thought of him.

From every text to every lingering touch your heart ached for him.

Him.

The captain of the New Jersey devils.

Him.

The Swiss man who lives across the hall from you.

Him and his cute accent.

Him and the way his eyes light up when he smiles.

Him. Nico Hischier.

This was never new to you, love that is or more so how easily you love. Ever since you were young your mind and body was plagued by the thought of romance. You knew you were a hopeless romantic, how could you not be? Growing up you craved having love like in the movies. Was this the reason for your many heartbreaks? yes .

After every heartbreak your craving for love grew stronger, wanting to be held and kissed and loved just like you do, being cared for the way you care for others.

Unfortunately as of right now the only romantic tropes that had come to life for you was unrequited love. Living in the shadows of someone else's love and loss.

Nico knew about your love for romance movies, he knew you so well and it hurt you knowing that he would never love you the same way you love him. But your mind couldn't help but wonder, just maybe. What if he liked you back?

Just maybe did the tighter squeeze of his hugs mean something? could the way he plays your favourite songs whenever he is driving you somewhere be a sign? Could the way he holds your hand when moving through large crowds be a hint to something more? Or is it when he always sends you a good morning text when he wakes up?

Perhaps, just maybe did he love you back?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw your phone screen light up on your kitchen bench. You place down your warm cup of coffee and reach to read whatever it was that lit your phone up bright. A sigh left your lips when you read the notification, revealing that it wasn't from Nico. you were so far gone, the thought of replying to other people sometimes felt daunting or annoying but replying to nico felt light and effortless. Like you could talk to him for ever and ever without running out of things to say or feeling uncomfy.

Instead the notification was from tinder, your pathetic attempt at getting over the hockey player was to surround yourself with other equally attractive men.

However that was not the case, whatever dates you'd go on you couldn't keep your mind away from Nico. no man in your eyes was as good as him. The thought of anyone else felt foreign whereas Nico felt warm and homey.

Most of the dates you went on were unfavourable and rather unpleasant. You never were one for quick hookups due to your very annoying habit of catching feelings so fucking your way out of this slump was not an option for you, despite your girlfriends suggesting so.

You pull yourself back out of your trance when you receive a text message from your best friend, Stacie - regarding your plans for breakfast this morning. You pause for a second, reading the time that displays in the top corner of your phone, answering swiftly to confirm your whereabouts and ETA.

You turn your speaker on and press shuffle on your playlist, attempting to drown your thoughts as you get ready for the day.

You finish up your makeup and manoeuvre your way back around to the front door, grabbing your bag and filling it with whatever junk you may possibly need incase of a very uncommon emergency.

You walk out into the hallway, locking your door tightly. You turn around and are met with big brown eyes you have grown very familiar with. He sends you a warming smile, in turn making your lips curl into an unintentional smile. Your cheeks burn up as you step forward towards the tall swiss hockey player, meeting him on the other side of the hallway.

“Hey!” you speak, hoping to disguise your excitement.

“Hello” nico respondes, tucking his keys into his pocket. “Where are you off to?” he adds, shifting his weight from his foot to the wall, leaning against it.

“Gonna go meet stacie at the cafe down the street for breakfast, you?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, still smiling embarrassingly wide. “Morning practice, which i was gonna ask if you were coming to the game tonight?” he asks, smiling slightly, causing his dimples to appear.

His eyes god his eyes, sparkling under the light, staring deeply into your own.

“Of course I am! Wouldn't miss it, especially when I get special treatment from the captain.” you say, lightly punching his arm. Nico laughs, redirecting himself to stand up straight, “anything for you” he answers with a wink, turning his body towards the elevator. You stand there for a second, trying to stop yourself from turning completely red.

Nico waits for you to walk with him towards the elevator, the two of you slipping comfortably into a natural conversation.

You make it to the front of the apartment building, ending the intriguing conversation about playoff hockey and whatnot.

“Do you need a quick ride? I don't mind driving you?” Nico asks, stepping towards you.

“Nah, I'll be okay to walk. Thank you tho” you reply.

Nico nods and goes in for a hug only to be turned down by you rejecting the advance to turn it into a simple fist bump, cringing at yourself for the gesture. Nico looked a bit stunned at the rejection but shakes it off with a light chuckle, returning the fist bump.

“I'll see you at the game, Schatzi” Nico says, turning to walk towards the car park. You stand there for a second, running your hand through your hair “what the fuck was that? A fist bump??” you mutter under your breath before being interrupted by your phone ringing

“Hello?”

“Hurry up.” the phone call abruptly ends, putting two and two together you register that the unknown caller was stacie asking you to get your ass to the cafe.

You walk down the street,enjoying the sun that has peeked out through the clouds. You admire the atmosphere that surrounds the sidewalk, passing your way through the crowds and delicate shops placed around the streets.

Unfortunately for you all you could think about was Nico and his stupid cute dimples and his stupid fluffy hair and his stupid big brown eyes.

You find your way to the cafe, meeting Stacie at the outdoor seats.

“Finally you show up, I thought you died” Stacie says, standing up to hug you, her long Auburn hair tied half up, neatly falling just away from her face.

“Got caught up, sorry” you apologies, sitting down across from the girl. “From mr dimples i hope” she teases, sipping her pre- ordered latte with a smirk. I roll my eyes away from her, snickering. “Oh my god, it was him wasn't it?” her big eyes widened at the realisation. You don’t reply, simply smiling to yourself, playing with your fingers in your lap.

“Well you can tell me when your drink gets here, i got you a mocha since you were too late to order for yourself” Stacie chides. “Thanks Stac, you're too kind” you joke.

Your drink comes and the two of you order your food. Stacie looks at you with a playful smile, leaning forward to rest her head in her hands “so..what did you two talk about?” she chimes. “Just..hockey or whatever” you shrug. “Mhm” her lips curl into a smirk “you should just tell him you like him” “what?no no i can't, we are just friends.” i defend.

If almost pre planned your phone vibrates on the table, revealing a very suggestive message from Nico

Nico: can’t wait to see you tonight ;)

“What was that?” stacie questions, raising her eyebrow “can't wait to see you tonight? Hmm seems a little too friendly if you ask me” she mocks “its nothing, i'm going to his game tonight.” you beat off.

“Listen, you've loved him pretty much since you've met him, call him a friend or whatever but I know how friends act and trust me, he likes you for sure. I mean you've been on so many dates with other guys to get over him and how many of them have actually been successful?” she monologues, pausing to take a bite of her fresh banana bread.

“Trust me, he doesn’t think about me like that” you tally. “Well I'm just saying , you only live once and if you can't get over him then you might as well confess to him. At least if he rejects you then you can get closure and move on'' she states, once again leaving you speechless for a few seconds. She starts up once again after reading your worn expression.

“I've seen the way he looks at you yk?” your eyes meet hers “how does he look at me?” you question, confusing, staying evident in your expression. “Like he never wants to look away” she reveals. Once again sipping on her drink.

“Hmmm I mean i've never seen anyone else around his place, and when we go out he doesn't really talk to any other girls.” you recall “ exactly, just give it a go. It's not like the world will end.” she finishes before swiftly changing the subject to one of her new boy toys of the month.

‘The world won't end’ you suppose the world won't end in the literal sense but what if he stops talking then it might as well end. It's dramatic but your whole day revolves around even the smallest thought of nico.. What are you even supposed to think about otherwise?

surely just maybe he might like you, granted that everything stacie says is true, perhaps you should take your shot sooner than later.

Your heart beats steadily as you arrange your hair in half up pigtails, wrapping the hair tie with red and white ribbon. You unfortunately didn't have a jersey for this game so instead you decided to sport a white tank top with a red sweater in support of the devils.

Once again your mind grows to Nico, the excitement of seeing him runs through your veins. You were never nervous or anxious to be around nico, if anything you felt safer and warmer around him, that is except now. The weight of what sense Stacie knocked into you really stuck in your mind. You couldn't help but wonder if you should confess and if it's even a good decision.

Your worries are cut short when you look at the time and quickly make your way to the front door, checking yourself out in the mirror one last time before slipping your shoes on and making your way to the prudential centre.

You walk into the arena, finding your seat comfortably in the stands, watching the warmups. Nico had asked you to meet him before the game. He said that he wanted to see you. After warmups you make your way to the hallway that leads out onto the ice, waiting patiently for nico to come see you.

He makes his way towards you, standing directly in front of you. He stands there, waiting for you to snap out of whatever trance your mind has put you in. your fiddling with your fingers, staring at your shoes, picking at your nails lightly.

“You shouldn't pick at your nails” Nico says, reaching out to hold your hand. His voice pulls you out and startles you, you jump and flinch your hands away from him.

“Woah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.” he apologises, eyes filled with remorse as he looks down at you. “No it's okay, just didn't realise you were there” you console, letting him reach for your hands once again, this time not flinching back. It's at this point that the other teammates are making their way back out to start the game. “When is the game gonna start?” you ask

“in a few minutes” he replies “just wanted to see you before it started” he adds, leaving you, standing there without a word “hey, what's going on inside that pretty head of yours?” he asks, bending down to read your face, his voice is calm and steady.

A sudden surge of confidence overwhelms you.

Fuck it.

You lean upwards, moving your body closer to his to attach your lips onto his. He is taken by surprise but it's not long before he shakes his glove off of his hand and reaches out to take hold of the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper.

You pull yourself away with a sharp inhale of air, nico face falling in a frown as you pull away.

“I like you.” you confess.

Nico stares at you, lips curling into a smile, his dimples becoming defined upon his cheeks.

“Yeah, I noticed.” he says, lowering his head back down to kiss your cheek.

Nico simply winks and jogs away towards the ice, looking back with a wide smile and blushed cheeks. The loud hollers and chirps are heard from the other devils players as they disappear through the doorway and onto the ice.

You make your way back to the stands, sitting down and watching the boys skate around , Nico playing perfectly as always. With best efforts, the game ends in a tight win, in favour of the devils. The crowd makes their way out of the arena and you're met with one more message from nico.

Nico: Meet me in the parking lot after the game, my car is parked around the corner. I'd like to take you to dinner if you're up for it?

Your face lights up, a smile breaking out, you bite your lip as you answer a yes, making your way towards his car.

Maybe.

Just maybe…

He does love you back.

#nico hischier #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nico hischer x reader #nj devils #new jersey devils #friends to lovers

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k3igol0ve · 2 months ago

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⭑｡𖦹°‧ Betrayal. [ How breaking up with him would go // mean Keigo Takami.] — KEIGO TAKAMI X READER GENRE: HURT, ANGST.

; Somewhat canon divergence; " Enough is enough Keigo. "

Is love a temporary fleeting feeling? What did it take for someone to get bored of you? An important lesson you've learnt from Keigo; some people only crave a relationship for the feeling, for the attention you're giving them. They're obsessed with the idea of a relationship, they don't love you; they love the attention you give them. Besides, he could easily replace you couldn't he? Wrong, he'd never find another like you. No one would tolerate him as much as you did. Welcome to reality and Society, Keigo.

Unfair, it almost felt as if it was a one-sided relationship when it came to Keigo Takami. There you were, struggling to keep the relationship afloat, while Keigo played it off; almost as if he was indifferent. Communication with him was as good as talking to a brick wall, apparently you weren't allowed to show temperament, only he could. Only he could be annoyed, only he could be infuriated, only he could be disappointed. His feelings were placed above yours. He didn't care about what you thought, because he knew you'd never leave someone like him. You'd always have to be the one to mend things, even though it was never your fault, because he'd ignore you if you didn't. He'd act aloof as if nothing occurred while your thought rack up your guilt filled mind. Arguments were a result of Keigo's petty and irrational thinking and yet you'd be the one apologising. You couldn't be better than him, because he was the best. He thought of other people as lower beings, but he'd never say that in public to maintain his high and perfect reputation. He looked at the flaws of others, but never of his own; he only focused on his own perfection. His thinking was narrow minded. The best way to describe him; a narcissist, a selfish asshole; but you could never do anything about it. Keigo, could do anything and you wouldn't be able to say a single word. Hate him all you want, but you could never find the strength to leave him. Keigo could compliment other girls, comment on their appearance while comparing you to them. He humiliates you in the mean time, mocking you as someone lesser. So you'd decide you'd speak out against that, atleast attempt to communicate. But you know Keigo, it'd never work out. Instead of apologising, he plays it off. If he has it in him, he'd find a way to humiliate you more. " Maybe I wouldn't compliment them if you looked better, --" or maybe if you had what they did. Other times, he'd play it off as 'being part of his job' as a hero. He's sick of it, he's loosing his grip on you. You defying him, questioning him. Other days, he'd ignore you as if nothing had been said or simply reply with a mere thumbs up. You didn't matter to him. That is until, you are on the verge of leaving. Twice, you've fallen for the same trick. Keigo would beg, promising to change his ways, he doesn't want you to leave because you were an easy person to keep. He gloated on your insecurities to place himself as a higher being. You tolerated him when he knew no one else did. He'd lie, leaving fake signs and messages that would make you sympathise him and perchance come back to him. ' Maybe in another life we would've been together. ' It's these little acts that provoke pity in you, that you can't help but feel drawn back to him. ' Baby, I miss you. ' When you're back? That act fades away, he knows you'd come back. He knows you'd stay. He knew you were attached. It worked twice, but why not this time? Third time wasn't the charm. How did you fall for someone like him in the first place? Simple, his sweet charming personality, and his feigned innocence. He teased you, and chased you until you fall into his dreaded trap. He'd leave little notes, little hints that were subtle and not at the same time. Maybe it'd be love songs he'd sing to you while 'subtly' hinting it was aimed at you. Maybe it was little notes that implied his interest in you, but you could never be sure. ' Just be mine already. ' He'd be everywhere you were, how sweet was it that he asked his colleagues how to approach someone like you? How to court someone like you? Oh, how you had fallen from grace, my dove. How shattered were you when you realised you had fallen for a facade? Pet names, changed into derogatory terms. How much disrespect can one tolerate? 'My love', became 'My bitch,'. As if you were an object of entertainment and nothing more.

Then the effort he had given you when he was courting you dwindled to a 0. He knew you had fallen perfectly into his trap, into his arms where you had become attached. 'This wasn't the Keigo I fell inlove with.'

So this was it, and Keigo knew it. You had gotten mad at him, wanting time alone. You started to ignore his calls, you changed your apartment's code. You haven't responded to his texts in a week, haven't responded to his subtle hints of him wanting you back. He misses the attention you gave him.

' A woman can say she loves you and never speak to you ever again. '

Keigo is way too prideful to accept being broken up with so he'd do it first. In turn, he chooses to give up; well not really; he attempts to make you jealous. Keigo moves on fast, he really does.

Afterall he is ‘ the man who moves too fast for his own good.’

Simple really, he would find another and date them, attempting to make you jealous. Naturally you'd want closure. You'd have to do it, atleast getting a sign was better than nothing.

As infuriating as it was, you did get a sign in the form of a ' 👍 '. It was good enough. Then he tries again, he really does.

For the first time in 2 years, he apologises; for everything. For being a 'prick' with communication. He keeps up the act of having a lover. He actually does have a lover, and so you have accepted it, afterall you basically gained your freedom.

Thank the stars for the god sent girl who had taken Keigo's interest for a period of time, and god save her from the emotional stress she would receive because of Keigo's emotional immaturity.

He failed, getting you back. He failed seeing you feel jealousy, and he DESPISED failing. So he replaces you with his lover, but its pathetic really.

During this time, he publicly humiliates you, showing his obsession with you despite it being MONTHS since you have separated.

He flaunts his new lover, she's better than you afterall. He continues to make you jealous.

' She works better than we ever did '.

But you don't care do you? It hurts, but despite it all you heal, you attempt to move on. The presence of him haunts you, interviews, social media, even his presence in public. He takes every chance he gets to humiliate you.

He's angry, he's infuriated. Why won't you come back to him? Why is nothing working? So he goes further, he insults you. He doesn't even subtly insult you anymore, he outright insults you. He's petty, he resorts to insulting your appearance, especially things you're insecure about. He's petty, he compares you with her at any chance he gets. He practically prays on your downfall going as far as to ruin your reputation in public.

He wishes you the WORST in everything.

Though, humans have their limits don't they? As much as you desire and crave to respond, you don't. To show you are the bigger person, to show that truly you don't care. Over the months you have moved on while Keigo proceeds to tarnish your reputation and attempt to bring you down without prevailing. It's getting tiring really, how isn't he sick of it when his topic is always focused on you. Isn't his current lover sick of hearing your name in his mouth?

He's wasting his efforts, because his current lover becomes an ex. He spent too much effort on you. He had it coming, someone as shitty as him doesn't deserve anyone. It was a curse upon those who had fallen inlove with him. Keigo lost someone who would listen to him, permanently, and he couldn't fathom that.

Though, she was nothing compared to you. You were the best of the best, you tolerated him, you endured his shitty behaviour, you forgave him despite everything, you promised to stay with him till the end, but where were you now?

So he's desperate once more, though this time you don't come back. Afterall what has been said was said, he couldn't take back his words, he couldn't take back his hurled insults that were created in the heat of the moment.

At night, irrational thoughts would swirl his head while he's intoxicated. He unblocks you, texts you once more with pleas of pathetic desperation.

"I miss you, I'm sorry. " It could go on for hours, and even a whole paragraph could appear. You'd ignore it of course, and if you were petty enough you'd laugh to yourself.

He even goes as far as degrading himself,

' Knowing you were my only chance to change, I left you. ' It's pathetic of Keigo, it really was.

It was useless too, you'd move on with your life. Your heart free from his shackles, your heart was lightened. Maybe you didn't have a significant other, but you were free.

It'd go off and on, in his vulnerable moments he'd miss you. He didn't miss you of course, he missed the attention you gave him. The gentleness that no one else could provide.

Then when he was feeling infuriated, angered by something in particular he'd start up his insults. Bipolar behaviourisms. Every time you'd post on your socials, he'd talk behind your back; pointing out your apparent insecurities as if you'd give a flying fuck. He wanted a reaction out of you, but you weren't going to give in.

You wondered when he would give up but, you know relationships aren't important, you know the limits of a damaging relationship and chose to focus on yourself.

You're much happier now, despite the occasional thought of him.

IF ANYONE OF YOU ARE IN A RELATIONSHIP LIKE THIS, I'LL SAY ONCE LOUDLY; RUN, LOVE, I PROMISE ITS NOT WORTH IT. HE/SHE/THEY IS NOT WORTH ALL THIS MENTAL TURMOIL. FOCUS ON YOURSELF. EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION IS NOT WORTH IT. Take care of yourself .

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odusseus-xvi · 1 year ago

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Pomme, the french egg

So I did a post about the french streamers (and their characters) and their mischaracterization I could see from time to time (https://www.tumblr.com/odusseus-xvi/724443078442778624/hello-helloooo-friend-hi-i-just-wanted-to-say) But I realised I didn't talk about Pomme, who has arguably the MOST mischaracterization I can find :

Most of the fandom see her only through English or other languages streams (BBH, Philza and Maximus mostly recently) limiting their views of her in general, but because of that a lot of people don't seem to know what her personnality is like, and most of the time in fanarts or fanfics she just feels like Talullah (which people also mischaracterize) but french, a little sweet girl in a little dress, so I decided to do a little summary of what she is like and some of her traits that you may have missed :

What people do get right is that she is most of the time polite and empathetic, that people get, though they tend to simplify her to only that.

She is very intelligent (learned a bit of create with Aypierre) and likes to both theorize and gossip with Baghera.

One of her parents is ETOILES !! She is a good and competent fighter ; just a few days ago she went and did a Nether Dungeon with Phil and Etoiles while Talullah worked on her garden. Her main weapon is a Moonlight GREATsword, a GREATsword, a BIGASS SWORD. She participated in infiltration missions in Federation Buildings alongside BBH, and Aypierre, in which she saved her father (Aypierre) from being caught and interrogated by Cucurucho

She has developped a deep paranoïa when it comes to the eggs' and her own safety ; between the combination of the attack of the code on her a while back, where she lost ten totems in mere seconds, an attack so strong that the admins went "ok my bad, we went a little far" (Draw her with golden scars !!! The tens of totems that saved her !!!), and the explosion at the Wilbur Party where she lagged just enough that she wasn't tped as fast as the other eggs and saw parts of the explosion. She is now scared of explosions, and always on the lookout (She also shows from time to time that her inventory and hotbar is constantly filled with gold apples and splash regeneration potions.) : During Etoiles' solo fight with the codes, when she saw the first "Dapper is down" message, and that she knew Phil was AFK, she went and pressed the OVO button HERSELF immediatly, and she got there faster than Forever !!

She is a really good writer, her diaries are praised by her parents everytime they read it, and she decided it would what would represent her in BBH's Egg Museum : She built a library where she will put her books for everyone to read. She is also a good and patient builder, with particular attention to interior design : While doing that she has shown a bit of maniacal side : She LOVES symmetry, and is irritated very easily when it doesn't go that route : One time Etoiles was teasing her by putting random blocks in her build and she went "PUT THAT GRASS BLOCK DOWN !!!" and when he continued she just left without saying goodbye.

She doesn't like to lie or steal things, she is honest in that way, BUT she often dodges questions either by saying things like "Don't worry about it :)" or by trying to guilt trip the asker by looking sad or drowning herself. She aslo picked up from Baghera the way she buries herself when mocked or shamed.

She can have a very dry and aware humor coming from Antoine's irony and cynicism and Aypierre's teachings.

Also fun fact, because of timezones, her default state on the server is sleep deprived. She is a sleepy egg.

TL;DR : She is a sweet Badass, and I'll stand by that. I need more fanarts of her with scars, her sword, dark circles under her eyes, and LOOKING LIKE THE GENTLE BADASS SHE IS !

#qsmp #qsmp pomme #qsmp etoiles #qsmp antoine daniel #qsmp antoine #qsmp baghera jones #qsmp baghera #qsmp aypierre #qsmp badboyhalo #qsmp bbh

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mylifesjustacarousel · 3 months ago

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the sorcerer and the apprentice - foes to friends

pairing: james hook x gn!reader (requested)

summary: you hated no one more than james hook, but after an incident, you start to see him differently

type: angst, the tiniest hint of fluff at the end

CW: bullying

WC: 1.2k

prequel | part 2 | part 3 (requests are open!)

For as long as you could remember, you hated James Hook. From the second he showed his face on the Merlin Academy campus, being as snarky and bratty as ever, you despised him. Being the child of Merlin himself didn’t make it any easier either. The torment and teasing was nonstop, from him and the rest of the VKs.

But ever since you pulled that prank on Uliana a few weeks ago, you had seen very little of the VKs, Hook included. You weren’t too worried though. If you could take them once, you could take them again.

You were in the woods right outside of campus, your sword in hand. It was peaceful there at night, a great time and place to practice your technique. You were stood in front of a tree, swinging at it left and right, pretending to dodge attacks. It wasn’t as good as practicing with a partner, but practicing alone helped to clear your mind.

“Aren’t you missing something, darling? Like another person?” A voice called out. You froze in your place, turning your head to follow the direction of the voice.

Hook.

“Go away,” you spat, “Even if I did want another person here, or anywhere else, it certainly wouldn’t be you.” He snorted, “I told you, you can’t get rid of me that easily. You can’t just say a spell and make me go away.”

Before you even knew it, your feet were moving before your mind, your arms drawing up and swinging your sword at Hook. While your technique was a little off, he seemed to quickly get the message. His eyes widened, his body barely dodging the blade. “If you needed the practice, you could’ve just said so,” he winked, drawing his sword from his belt.

You grimaced, swinging at him again, “You make me sick, Hook.” He advanced forward, unknowingly backing you up against a tree. You panicked, trying to quickly think of something to get you out of this situation. He had you cornered. He held the blade of his sword to your chin, “You don’t even know me, darling.” you could feel every breath that he took with how close his chest was to yours. “So you can hate me, but remember who saved you when Uliana wanted to destroy you.”

He pulled his sword away, putting it back in its sheath before walking away from you. You stood there in disbelief as you watched him.

What just happened? you thought.

You walked towards the water, trying to calm yourself down. Leaning against a nearby tree, you took a deep breath. Peace at last…

“You!”

Whipping your head around, you were met with a sight that you did not want to see. The VKs were standing there, minus Hook. Uliana charged towards you, “You think you can humiliate me and get away with it? I’ll show you what happens to people who mess with me!”

Without missing a beat, you turned to try to run, only to run into the chests of Hades and Morgie. They had you cornered. One of Uliana’s tentacles shot out, wrapping around your ankle and lifting you up into the air. You panicked, yelling for help. But the woods were too far away for anyone on campus to actually be able to hear you. She laughed maniacally, dangling you over the water as you struggled.

“The little goody two shoes thought that they were going to get spared? Just because Hook let you go, doesn’t mean that I’m going to.”

You looked to the other three for help, hoping that any of them would show any signs of remorse. But they were all laughing, enjoying the fear on your face. “It’s a shame I had to get rid of Hook. He thought I should leave you alone, but I knew that nothing would fill me with more joy than doing this.”

Within seconds, you could feel nothing but coldness surrounding you. She had dropped you into the water below you. “I hope you can swim!” she called out, the VKs laughing and cheering her on as they left.

You panicked, flapping your arms as you tried to make your way back to land. The water stirred, a figure appearing in the water beside you. It could only be described as a giant eel. It’s snake like eyes locked on you, ready to pounce the moment it saw you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to remember a spell to get you out of this. But your mind drew a blank. There was nothing you could do to save yourself.

You heard the eel pounce, but you didn’t expect what came after. The sound of a sword being drawn, a loud scream, and the sound of the water becoming still. You slowly opened your eyes, looking for your hero.

Hook. Hook was standing there.

He threw his sword onto the ground, reaching his hand to help you out. You didn’t think twice before grabbing his hand, pulling yourself out of the water. Shivering, you pulled your soaking wet jacket tighter around your frame, trying to generate any sort of warm.

“Easy, easy,” Hook pulled his jacket off, draping it over your shoulders, “You’re lucky I was still around, you were almost fish food, darling.”

You glared at him, but you accepted his jacket. “Why’d you do that? Help me?” you mumbled, your eyes meeting his. For the first time ever, you saw sincereness in his eyes. It was strange and different. It’s like something in your brain just clicked.

“Like I said, you don’t know me,” he shrugged, “But, there’s something about you. You’re… different. A good different. You weren’t actually a goody two shoes, you’re actually pretty cool.” Hook rambled on, a light blush on his cheeks.

“Well… thank you,” you nodded. He gave you a nod back, standing up, “Just, uh, return the jacket whenever.”

“Aren’t you going to walk me back?” you asked, standing with him. His eyes widened, the blush on his face becoming a cherry red.

“I guess that would be the appropriate thing to do, yes.”

Hook walked you all the way back to your dorm room, his eyes on you the entire walk. You were silent the entire time, still trying to process what had happened. Hook helped you. You didn’t think it could ever happen, but you saw a change in him, and you were interested in taking a deeper dive… you couldn’t even believe that you were thinking these things. After all, you hated James Hook. Or at least you did.

“Well, this is me,” you slipped his jacket off, trying to hand it back to him. He refused, draping it over your shoulders again, “You still look cold, darling. I’ll get it back eventually. But, um, have a good night.” He patted your shoulder before turning to walk away.

He took a few steps before you called out to him. “Hey, James? You can come pick up your jacket tomorrow… and stay for a little bit, if you’d like?”

Hook couldn’t help but smile a bit. He turned to you, “Sounds like a plan, y/n. Don’t get into any more trouble between now and then, alright? I can only save you so many times.”

You rolled your eyes, a grin making way onto your face, “Goodnight, James.”

“Goodnight, darling.”

a/n: i truly didn’t think i would get so many requests for this series, or enough for this to even turn into a series. also, if there’s any confusion timeline wise, this takes place a few months before the original the sorcerer and the apprentice. if you have any requests at all, my ask box is open!

#_emily’s writing_#descendants #descendants the rise of red #descendants x reader #descendants the rise of red x reader #james hook #james hook x reader #young hook #young hook x reader #young james hook #young james hook x reader

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aestherin · 2 years ago

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privacy

34: one mistake

When did it all start?

Ah, it was when he first heard your singing voice during eleventh grade.

It was the during the time of the day when most students would flock to the cafeteria, rushing to eat their fill after half a day's worth of academic torture. Even before then, he already disliked crowded and hectic places. And so, he went the opposite direction of everyone.

Turns out he wasn't the only one with that idea.

The sweet and enchanting voice of a nightingale was what welcomed him the moment he arrived at the school's courtyard. Not rushing to eat lunch just to hear this was worth it, he concluded.

He didn't even know your name at the time, for you two were not in the same class. And when you turned around — good lord.

Your face was beautiful, but it wasn't familiar at all. It was odd, how this was the first time he saw you. He thought for sure that with an appearance like that, if he had ever met you prior, he wouldn't be able to forget you.

Was the school really that big for you two to miss each other every single time?

"Oh. A person. Uhm, hi?"

Fuck. Even your speaking voice was attractive.

Kunikuzushi was damned.

And he has been, for many years. Even up until now.

The present him looked up at nowhere, quietly laughing at himself.

How pathetic.

'You've liked her since you were still students, and you still haven't got the guts to even confess.'

'You're both famous people now, hundreds of thousands of people — maybe even millions — wanting the two of you... yet you're still stuck simply being her friend.'

Boy best friend, he argued with himself. But Scaramouche himself also did not know if that was better or worse.

"I have arrived," he heard a smooth voice. Kunikuzushi instictively frowned. This? This was the voice of the man you fell for?

He almost rolled his eyes. He could do better than this guy in front of him. He bets Ayato couldn't even sing.

"Sit."

Ayato looked around the area but found no chairs. "Where?" All he could see was cemented grounds, ramps, and curves. Why did they have to meet at a deserted skateboarding area anyway?

Scaramouche smirked. "Ah, sorry. I forgot you're a rich boy. We can't have you sitting on the dirty floor now, could we?"

It was as if a tick mark appeared on the taller man's head. Feigning a smile, he breathed, "Did you ask to meet me just to insult me, bastard?"

"Wow. Was it that obvious?"

"No, not really."

"I'm just getting back at you."

"Pardon? I don't even know you, aside from you being a celebrity. This is the first time we've met and suddenly you say you're getting back at me?"

"Shut the fuck up. You insulted me first."

"Hah?"

"You getting together with [Name] so easily was the biggest insult I've ever received in my entire existence."

Oh.

Now, Ayato was no idiot. Of course, he immediately realized the underlying message of Scaramouche's statement. Was that why this man called for him? Did he receive news of their so-called 'break-up' and was now planning to tell him that he's going to pursue you now that you're not in a relationship anymore?

Ayato's eyes followed Scaramouche as he stood up from the metal rail he was previously sitting on. Meanwhile, the shorter one looked and turned away, seemingly looking at a distance.

"I knew it was all fake, by the way," he started. "She accidentally tweeted about it on her private account, and I got to see it before she deleted it."

"Since when?"

"That was even before your drama was released."

"That was a long time ago. You knew yet did nothing?"

Ayato was confused. If Scara had feelings for you, why didn't he act on it even after he found out that the thing you had for him was all a fraud? It was not something that he could comprehend.

Not with his way of thinking.

Kunikuzushi, on the other hand, begged to differ. He believed himself to have done the right thing.

He has already kept his affection for you to himself for several years, surely a few weeks, months more wouldn't be that big of a deal, right?

And so he stayed. Stayed observing, kept contemplating — remained being just a friend.

"Of course, the thought of having her for myself crossed my mind at that moment..." He smiled fondly. "...but I still didn't go with it."

He suddenly turned around, not giving Ayato the opportunity to retort.

"Because despite the fact that it wasn't real —"

Scaramouche sighed.

"— even the archons know how in love she was with you."

That left him speechless. For a seemingly inconsiderate and rough guy to say those words...

How can he remain calm? Another person who has romantic feelings for you just told him about your sincerest sentiments for him.

"Why are you —"

Ayato cut himself off with a forced gag.

"What the fuck?" He glared at the man who just punched his gut. He unconsciously hovered his arm over the pained area; though it wasn't too powerful, the sheer unexpectedness of the punch was enough to make it sting.

"Just because she loves you doesn't mean you get a pass. My anger won't vanish quickly, airhead."

Airhead?

Did... did he just insult me?

Me?

Yours truly?

This made Ayato raise a brow. "Oh?"

"Why not punch me in the face then? Scared?" Ayato challenged with a devious grin.

A sarcastic laugh was not what he was expecting in return.

"Are you dumb? With my strength, I am more than capable of landing a punch on your face that would take more than weeks to recover," Scaramouche smirked. "What if [Name] sees it? And her, being the angelic being she is, would ask you about it. Then you, being the conniving blabbermouth that you are, would tell her my name."

The fuck?

"She would be mad at me. That's the least thing I'd ever want."

"So that's why you punched me in an area that isn't visible."

"Precisely."

Ayato made a face. After a while, he attempted to get back at the other man with a punch too, but failed miserably. "Oh? Why are you hitting me back?"

"What kind of question even is that?"

"I thought you knew you deserved that punch in the gut," Kunikuzushi stated in a matter-of-fact tone, both hands inside his pockets. To Ayato, it seemed like the man in front of him was bigger than him at the moment. He was sneering down at him.

"You hurt her. So I punched you."

Yeah, I really did.

Backing down and lacking argument, he opted to just sit down on one of the skateboarding ramps. "Remind me why we had to meet here out of all places again?"

"This place..." Scaramouche followed his actions, sitting on the ramp opposite of him. "This place is special to me and [Name]. I used to skateboard often when I was still a student."

"She would always come to me with drinks and snacks in hand. Then, unofficially, this became our weekend hangout spot."

"So, you've liked her since... you were students?"

Kunikuzushi hummed.

"How come you've never told her in that whole time?"

"I'm a coward," he chuckled. "I didn't want to lose what we have. I was afraid that we would stray apart from each other once I do."

Ayato could do nothing but smile sympathetically. "I bet you wrote songs about her."

"Albums," Scaramouche corrected him.

"Damn."

"Yeah. Damn." Ayato felt the return of an intense glare. "I wrote entire albums for her then you had the audacity to hurt [Name] enough for her to end your relationship despite being deeply enamored with you? Wow. Tsk, tsk. Talk about a big jerk."

"I'm aware," he sighed. "Now, can you stop with that? Unless you really only called me out here to make me realize how much I messed up — which let's be honest I really did, and I honestly deserve every single shit you throw at me, but —"

"Glad to know that you know."

Ayato frowned.

He sensed a shift in Scaramouche's mood. He assumed the other was getting serious now. "I called you here because I want you to fix this mess... and to ask you a favor —"

"— I'm leaving [Name] in your care."

"..."

"However," The man pointed at him. "One mistake, Kamisato. One mistake and I'll make sure she'd want to spend her lifetime with me instead."

privacy — ayato x reader smau

prev. masterlist. next.

NOTES -> that was long im sorry ahfbdhd -> also scara pls be mine instead🥹🙏

TAGLIST I (closed) @catsrkool @sukunasrealgf @redactedhimbo @layla240 @mxlkytea13 @itsactuallylina @milza12 @aixaingela @tatiratty @kimiesstuff @laventiseriou @kunihaver @bibisbestgirl @lunaavity @coquettemaiden @opchara @slvdsjjk @cotton-eee @lady-elodie @dearxiiao @wheneverthesunrise @heartswonder @chuduchok @headphonesrlif3 @lleoll @vnderthesunn @lizzardlady1234 @nekogakuro @rifran @atlatcaheart @ani-st @creammpuff @lunastarjay @kittycasie @poisoned-candy-apples @zannivrs @b0bafl0wer @moonlightaangel @elsoleil

#privacy smau #ayato x reader #genshin impact #genshin #kamisato ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #genshin smau #ayato smau #aestherin #genshin celebrity au #modern au #genshin modern au

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wosokirby · 6 months ago

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Lauren James x Chelsea!reader

“I don’t know what you mean, there’s no flirting going on. It’s just a drink calm down you two”

It wasn’t though.

It was never ‘just’ a drink.

Lauren James x Chelsea! reader

2.7k ish words

Another glass of rosé wine was placed in front of you on the table and you’d have almost missed it appearing if it wasn’t for the grin Erin gave you and the hand squeezing your shoulder.

Looking up above you LJ stood dropping off yet another drink for you almost like your own personal waiter for the evening. She gave you a quick smile before going back to the bar where a few of your team mates were stood.

“God will you two get over this or actually speak to each other” Erin groaned before picking up your new glass and taking a swig.

“Erm excuse me that’s mine thank you”

“You’ve had enough free drinks already!”

“Don’t be jealous you’ve got no friends Erin” you laughed as you took the wine glass out of her hand and setting it back in front of you. “What are you talking about anyway?”

“I don’t think just friends buy drinks all night for each other, and they certainly don’t silently flirt with each other” Erin sighed giving Guro a nudge with her elbow, as she seemed to be pointing out the oblivious, or at least obvious to everyone but you.

“Yes the flirting its so not subtle anymore” Guro agreed with Erin.

“I don’t know what you mean, there’s no flirting going on. It’s just a drink calm down you two”

It wasn’t though.

It was never ‘just’ a drink.

It was four or maybe five drinks tonight… and your dinner that Lauren had paid for before you met up with the rest of the Chelsea team at the busy bar you were now in.

When you think about it LJ did lots of that, a coffee on your pre match walk. A cup of tea was usually waiting for you when you got to training in the morning. A bottle of water after a match or if you were subbed off after her was silently handed to you.

It had all become a habit, so much so that you’d not really noticed it all any more. And when you did you assumed it was just Lauren being nice. Or at least that was what you had convinced yourself it was after you’d lost all hope that the feelings you had for her were reciprocated.

It must have been all in your head that she could feel the same way after you’d not been so subtle with some of the messages you tried to send her way once you realised the feelings were more than just the one you had for your other friends. Lauren was easily your closest person on the team and with the Lionesses. The two of you were always together.

While you spent a lot of that time taking any chance to glance over at Lauren, slightly mesmerised by her in certain moments, particularly on the pitch. Her talent could be seen by anyone with eyes, but not many people saw more than that. LJ is a private person she didn’t tell anyone much, unless you were a close friend, about her love life. Not that she found much time for that anyway. Training, the gym and focussing on all things football were her priorities.

Still she found time for you, afternoons and evenings were often spent at one of your places or in each others hotel rooms. Chatting, extra training, trash tv watching all just seemed to make the time go by far too quickly for your liking. You truly enjoyed every second you spent with Lauren, it was becoming more difficult to put your feelings aside but you knew it was important for your friendship that you didn’t let it slip. Lauren confessing her feelings or just sweeping you up after a goal celebration and kissing you remained just day dreams that kept you up when you were apart.

She didn’t feel the same, she couldn’t. She would have told you by now, you are each others best friend and no secrets were kept from you. So you were content as much as you could be with what you got, a couple of drinks and the occasional present she picked up just because it made her think of you would be enough for you.

But the candles that were beginning to take over your flat, the soft blankets she knew you could never have enough of and the cuddly kangaroo that sat on your bed every day, as a memory from the World Cup were treasured possessions for you. But just presents from one friend to another you thought.

“Leave it, please” It was not the most convincing argument to put forward to the girls who were at the very least bored of your pinning after your team mate.

“No it’s something you can’t ignore now, you need to speak to Lauren or we’ll make you” Erin boldly stated still with a bit of a smirk on her face letting you know it was at least a bit entertaining to wind you up.

“Make me by doing what guys? There’s nothing to say even if I did like Lauren, which I don’t, it’s not like she would be the same. She just sees me as a friend.”

“Oh come on that’s not true and you know that” Erin exclaimed, taking the lead on the pre planned conversation her and Guro were now launching on to you. They had encouraged each other to ask the both of you what was going on, and maybe with you a few drinks down they could push you and Lauren together.

“I’m going to the toilet, back in a min” You say pushing yourself back in your chair and leaving the table before they could say anything otherwise.

After weaving through the crowd you realised just how many drinks you had consumed that night, as you sat down you could feel the room swaying a little.

Still feeling a little lightheaded you wandered back through to the table, and after rounding a corner you bumped into a figure muttering a sorry before realising who it was.

“It’s alright it’s just me” Lauren said. She had caught hold of your arm to catch you before you had the chance to fall and her hand had come up to rest on your waist, resting on the skin in between your crop top and jeans, as she spoke to you.

“Are you ok? I just came to check on you”

“I’m fine I just think I’ve had a bit more to drink than I realised. I might need to sit down” you laughed. It wasn’t like you were falling over drunk but you were feeling the effects of those drinks Lauren had so kindly got you.

“C’mon then” LJ turned to walk back to where you had been sat before and you followed. The bar was pretty dimly lit and crowded, to keep track of you Lauren reached behind and held her hand out for you to hold. She led you through to the table and pulled out your chair, once you were sat she crouched down with her hand still holding yours.

“I’ll get you some water do you want anything else?”

You shook you head and Lauren left you at the table, you weren’t alone for long as Erin and Guro now joined by Sam and Millie took the opportunity to pounce on you.

“Why don’t you just tell your girlfriend you love her?” Sam teased from the other side of the table while the others giggled. It was harmless teasing and you all knew it wasn’t meant to offend you, it just cut a bit close to home this time.

“LJ told me you went on a date with her earlier you know” Millie said, glancing over her shoulder to check that LJ wasn’t within earshot.

“Ooooh” was the collective sound that came from the rest of the group who seemed to have never heard any gossip more exciting than this as they squealed in delight at Millie’s news.

“Alright, I think that’s me done for the night. Stop shit stirring guys” you laughed along with them, moving round the table you hugged each of them and said a quick goodbye promising to catch up again at training on Monday.

“Sorry it took a while” LJ said placing a glass of water into your hand when you met her near the bar. You downed the water appreciating the gesture. “You heading out?” She asked noticing the bag on your shoulder.

“Yeah I’m shattered, and them lot are getting annoying” you pointed behind you at the girls still giggling away.

“I’ll book an Uber now” She said pulling out her phone.

“No it’s alright I’ll book it, you picked me up on the way, on the way to our date…” you trailed off. You weren’t fully sure if Millie had been joking and feeling quite tipsy you maybe were letting the teasing get to you. You looked at Lauren whose attention had now been turned away from her phone. “Let’s just go it’s loud in here”

LJ took your hand and like she had earlier led you through the bar and outside, she still had her phone in her hand ready to book an Uber to collect you both before you could argue with her.

“You really should let me pay for something at some point you know Lauren” you sighed with a smile as the two of you stepped outside. “Never” LJ smirked holding the door open for you.

“I’d feel much better if you just let me take you home”

“Only if you come back with me then, I get lonely without you”. You said leaving against her, resting your head on her should for a brief moment.

LJ nodded and confirmed she’d booked just one cab to go to your address already, like she already knew what you’d ask her to do. You weren’t waiting for too long it wasn’t a weekend or too late so you were thankful when the car pulled up and LJ spoke to the driver before opening the rear door for you. You climbed in the car shuffling through as far as the middle seat so LJ could slide in next to you without walking round the car.

The window was cracked down slightly letting in a breeze that seemed to help you sober up but the tiredness was setting in. A hand rested on your leg giving your thigh a squeeze, when you turned to look at LJ she was already looking right at you. You weren’t sure if it was the eye contact or the the close proximity that made your stomach do little flips. She had this effect on you a lot more than you’d want to admit. You moved your hand to rest on top of hers giving it a reassuring nudge as she moved it slightly further up and into your inner thigh.

‘Fuck’ you thought, was this really happening? Suddenly you were no longer feeling so tired. You gave a small smile to Lauren that she returned, her eyes glancing down to your lips and back up. The car slowed down as it rounded a corner and you glanced away and out of the front window of the car to see that you were just round the corner from your flat. Once you had thanked the driver you followed LJ out of the car and took her hand as she watched you get out of the car.

Fumbling through your bag for your keys you walked towards the main door for your flat, once you had found them and opened the door you looked behind you to LJ who stood close by. This time as you lead her inside and up the couple of flights of stairs you took the lead and reached for her hand first, you didn’t need her to take you through a crowd just simply to be there. Opening up your door walking through to your lounge you let Lauren shut and lock the door as she quickly follows you.

Flopping down into the corner seat of your sofa you kicked off your shoes and relaxed into the seat, glad to be back home. “Comfy?” LJ said as you sat almost laying down, you could feel her sit next to you getting close once again. “Very, I could fall asleep now” you murmured your eyes closed.

“We should go to bed then”

“Give me a min”

Sitting in what was comfortable single for a few moments grew to another tension filled moment just like there had been in the taxi. When you slowly opened your eyes LJ was looking down at her hands, you gave in to what felt right and moved forward to slip your hand into hers. She moved one of her hands to link with yours and cupped your hand with both of hers still looking down at them.

It was such a comfort you, the soft touch of her hand against yours. It wasn’t just a joke what the girls had said at the bar, it was a date and it really could be that Lauren liked you back. You could feel all of that being expressed just by the physical contact you shared. You had to take that leap and say it. Lauren was the more shy of the two of you so really if you didn’t say it now you weren’t sure she’d be ready to take to leap first.

“Will you kiss me, please?” You spoke softly, almost afraid that if you spoke to loudly, to harshly it would scare her away or disrupt the moment. For no longer than a few seconds, yet it felt like an age, your team mate and best friend sat there not moving away but also not moving to fulfil your ask. It wasn’t often LJ didn’t do want you asked her to, she went out of her way to do a lot for you, to make you happy and smile. But you couldn’t doubt that it was what she wanted too.

Especially not when she turned her head to you, her hands leaving yours as she budged closer to you to sit almost in between your legs leaving some small distance between you and her. You leant forward meeting her in the small gap and she looked straight at you, taking the sight of you in before leaning in her eyes closing and her lips connecting with yours as you did the same.

It was a soft kiss, gentle as her lips moved against yours. It wasn’t just a peck on the lips, you were grateful she put some real effort into the kiss. You sighed quietly into the kiss as Lauren moved you towards her with her hands coming to rest against you, sitting on your hips. She gently pushed you down against the sofa as she leaned over you, while not disconnecting your lips once. One of the arms came to rest above your head holding her up, she moved back to allow you both to breathe for a second.

A quick kiss pressed against her lips as a small giggle passed from your lips as she smiled, that smile you loved to see, a smile you felt so lucky to see more than anyone else got to.

“I’m not sure if I expected that to happen tonight or not” Lauren admitted “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time”.

“Have you really?” You asked tentatively almost still afraid that if you spoke to loudly it would all disappear.

“For so long, I’ve had to stop myself from doing it almost every time we’ve been together lately” She confessed.

“Looks like we’ve got plenty of lost time to make up” You said and pulled her back down for another long kiss.

Hi, this is the first time I’ve ever really written anything like this but I thought I’d give it a go finally after thinking about it for a long time 😂

hope you enjoyed!

#lauren james #lauren james x reader #chelseawfc #lionesses #chelsea womens fc #woso x reader #woso imagine #lionesses x reader

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starcurtain · 5 months ago

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Some Speculation on Kaveh’s Father

I actually started this post right after the Parade of Providence event last year, but never got around to finishing it. However, in light of Kaveh still not appearing on a banner, I decided to dust this one off and get it finished, so that I’d have at least a little Kaveh content in my life after being so cruelly denied by Hoyo.

So, without further ado, some stuff about Kaveh’s father I did not see discussed elsewhere but which I think is especially interesting.

1) Kaveh’s father likely first became depressed/disillusioned with humanity after witnessing (or possibly being the victim of) a murder attempt.

Without knowing the full situation and reading all the additional text from the Parade of Providence event, I feel like this might have been easily missed, but the entire “Kaveh’s dad became disillusioned and depressed and retreated to the desert to help people” seems--at first--like it came out of nowhere. He had a lovely family, was the pride of his darshan, and was eager and excited to win the crown to bring it home to his son. Yet theoretically, he did not win the crown (and, in fact, the crown was stolen before the last event and may not have been there during the Avidya Forest fight, so when, as the non-winner, would Kaveh’s father have come into contact with it to encounter Sachin through it in the first place?) Why would Kaveh’s father’s personality take such a massive turn all the sudden? What would drive an excited, happy person to suddenly withdraw from everything he loved and everyone who loved him, if he didn’t actually win the diadem to be influenced by it in the first place?

The event implies there was a trigger:

Huvishka’s friend (who is described as “honest and kind but vulnerable and sensitive”--obviously Kaveh’s father) went into the Avidya Forest with the other contestants, where no one was watching, and we’re not told what happened except that the Akademiya responded to whatever occurred by shutting down the entire competition and banning any sort of events in the future that cause contestants to become so desperate they would “fight to the death.”

This is a pretty obvious implication that Kaveh’s father either witnessed two other contestants attempt to kill each other or was the victim of an attempted murder himself, which prevented him from winning the competition even though he was the favorite to win by a long-shot. This feat of betrayal, demonstrating the depths to which humanity would sink, likely shook the idealistic world views of a sensitive person such as Kaveh’s father. This brush with death and with humanity’s capacity for evil in the forest would have been the exact trigger needed to make Kaveh’s father particularly vulnerable to Sachin’s message of nihility and despair, leading to the downward spiral that sent Kaveh’s father into the desert.

2) Sachin may have way more culpability for Kaveh’s father’s death than Kaveh realizes.

For a while after the event, I was under the impression that Kaveh’s father must have met Sachin’s consciousness through the diadem and that’s where he got the idea to go into the desert. However, something was always a bit odd about the timeline, because...

Sachin was still alive when he gave the Akademiya his estate. This is why no one actually knew/believed he was fully dead, even to the present--because he willed the Akademiya the estate while he was alive and told them he was going to be personally watching over the contestants to award his estate to them if he deemed them worthy successors to himself.

So did Kaveh’s father run into a fragment of Sachin’s consciousness... or did he run into Sachin himself? The game doesn’t really clarify:

The fact that Sachin’s recording recognized Kaveh’s appearance as familiar makes me think it is much more likely that the consciousness preserved in the diadem already had knowledge of Kaveh’s father at the time it was preserved. Aka, Sachin actually met Kaveh’s father in person. This also makes sense of why, even though the diadem was stolen away during the last event and Kaveh’s father did not win it, he would still know about Sachin and Sachin’s research. (However, as a counterpoint, I guess we could say that the Diadem!Sachin had enough sentience to maybe have its own memory, separate from the real Sachin? And reached out to Kaveh’s father mentally even though he didn’t win the diadem? Maybe?)

Still, there’s one really notable aspect of the timeline that I think is important: Right after the Interdarshan Competition twenty years ago, the one which Kaveh’s father competed in, we know that Sachin went back out to the desert.

Who else went out to the desert exactly 20 years ago? Kaveh’s father, obviously.

This overlap in the timelines makes it seem very likely that Kaveh’s father, who failed to win the competition because of a murder attempt (and therefore never got the diadem), was nevertheless reached out to by the real Sachin, who saw in Kaveh’s father the kindred disillusioned idealist he was looking for to pass his research torch onto. From this connection, Kaveh’s father was driven to either directly accompany or at least pursue the still living Sachin into the desert. (This works even if we say it was only Sachin’s consciousness he was contacted by--in either case, he would have been driven go to out to the desert to meet the real, temporarily still living Sachin to join his quest to help the desert people.)

Only for Kaveh’s father to meet his end there while trying to aid a caravan that had fallen into trouble. What a tragic coincidence, a completely unpredictable twist of fate.

Or... was it?

How odd, in the same quest that Kaveh’s father’s connection to Sachin is discussed, that we’re given an account of a caravan that appears to have been deliberately sabotaged, where money was taken (from Sachin) and somehow sparked a betrayal, a “trial of human nature” that caused many people to die, with the takeaway being the exact belief Sachin wants to pass on and reinforce in others, that humans are horrific creatures who can only make the world a worse and worse place.

We know that Sachin’s “research” specifically consisted of doing this exact thing, manipulating situations to test humans’ moral character, conducting trials/experiments on “human nature” to reinforce his belief that humans were fundamentally selfish beings.

(It’s no accident the merchant ledger we receive uses the exact same words as Sachin does, “trial of human nature” and “experiments on human nature.” We’re supposed to assume what happened to the caravan in the note was deliberate sabotage on Sachin’s part, to create a scenario where he could observe the cruelties of humanity.)

Why would the game go out of its way to give us an account of a caravan being deliberately sabotaged and used as an experiment if there was no connection at all between what happened with this caravan and what happened to Kaveh’s father, who was also killed helping a floundering caravan?

It’s just too much of a coincidence to accidental. I think the implications of the ledger Dori gave us and the similarities in the language on that ledger to Sachin’s ideas was supposed to lead the audience to wonder:

Could Kaveh’s father have died in one of Sachin’s final “human nature experiments”?

Was the caravan Kaveh’s father tried to help one that Sachin deliberately sabotaged, expecting to observe humanity’s selfish, self-preserving nature?

I think there’s enough evidence in the story to suggest that we players are at least supposed to consider this a possibility. (There’s no reason to give us the ledger about the manipulated caravan otherwise.) And if you consider this a possibility, it would mean that Sachin didn’t just indirectly cause Kaveh’s father’s death--he would be the direct cause of Kaveh’s father’s death, an actual murder brought about by Sachin’s beliefs that humanity’s self-centered nature made everyone beyond saving.

This idea transforms Kaveh’s father’s sacrifice into the ultimate rejection of Sachin’s beliefs. This would mean that, even in a situation manipulated to bring out the worst in human beings on purpose, Kaveh’s father gave everything to protect the lives of others, for no gain at all of his own, doing everything he could just to desperately try to make the situation (the world) better.

SO yeah. I’m not saying we have hard evidence here, but I think the quest was trying to lead players to speculate very, very hard on the possibility that Kaveh’s father’s death was no accident.

3) Finally, a cuter piece of speculation to brighten things up after that despair bomb I just dropped: it’s highly likely that Kaveh’s father had more than one Aranara buddy!

During the Parade of Providence, we hear about an Aranara who learned to read from Kaveh’s father:

However, this is a bit confusing, because later in the event, we hear someone else say that Kaveh’s father taught an Aranara to write specifically when he was a child:

While of course it is possible that Kaveh’s father taught the first Aranara, Arakasyapa, to both read and write, I think there’s also another possible answer here about why Kaveh’s father would separately mention teaching an Aranara to write:

Because there is an entirely different Aranara in the story which was taught to write by a “good Nara” who was a child--Arashakun, from the quest “Courage is the Heart.”

In this sweet little world quest, the Traveler discovers a flower talisman that has been snatched by some hilichurls, and seeks to return it to its rightful owner, a timid and shy Aranara named Arashakun.

We learn that Arashakun once had a kind-hearted “good Nara” companion who taught him to write (sound familiar?), and who, in order to encourage the poor Aranara, gave him a single flower dubbed “courage.” In describing this child companion, Arashakun specifically states that his companion was no strong warrior like the Traveler’s twin, but instead a gentle, comforting presence who never teased the Aranara.

All of these descriptions line up particularly well with Kaveh’s father, who the game repeatedly describes as vulnerable, kind-hearted, and giving to others.

To drive home the possible connections to Kaveh’s family even further, this quest takes place very, very near to the Palace of Alkazarzaray.

Although we don’t have any guarantee, I think it is strongly implied that the “good Nara” mentioned by Arashakun is indeed Kaveh’s father, and the “courage of the heart” that he extended to Arashakun as a child is the very same courage, kindness, and generosity that drove him to reach out to the people of the desert, hoping to make a difference in their lives--even at the cost of his own.

The takeaway? Kaveh’s father was a truly good person who aided everyone he came across, from timid Aranara to people whose very lives were in danger. He never meant to leave his family, and especially not his son, but repeatedly fell afoul of the worst humanity had to offer and was driven into a situation in which all he could do was offer his very life to uphold the altruism that was central to his idealism--the same idealism and goodness that Kaveh carries as “courage” in his own heart.

#genshin impact #Kaveh #Kaveh's father #aranara #some speculation related to the vaguer clues left in #Parade of Providence #I'm not saying Sachin killed Kaveh's dad #but i'm not NOT saying that either #I was always surprised that people didn't make a bigger deal out of the fact that we know #Sachin was out there sabotaging caravans #and Kaveh's dad died in a suspiciously failing caravan #like whattttt #and if you see the quest as implying that #it makes the whole thing so much more meaningful #Kaveh didn't just reject a bad ideology #he IMITATED HIS FATHER'S DIRECT REJECTION #of that ideology #and SURVIVED #because he refused to give into the manipulations that Sachin put his father through #which is also very #haikaveh-coded #because it was Alhaitham's notes that gave Kaveh the forewarning #about Sachin's ideology #Kaveh went into his conflict with Sachin armed with more warning than his father #with the support of friends and allies #where Kaveh's father likely had just experienced a backstabbing and murder attempt #making him vulnerable to the negative beliefs #truly wild levels of connection if you dig deeply here #god that event was so good #will Genshin ever reach those heights in a flagship event again???

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ttjisung · 1 month ago

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back 2 u 𝜗𝜚

p. jisung x fem!reader smau - exes to lovers

in which jisung does his best to avoid you, his ex, until he realizes his mistake far too late cw: suggestive themes, bad angst, cheating, swearing

i'm not going back, back, back, back, back

masterlist

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chapter xi. (wc: 2.1k + social media near the end)

Renjun had a plan, and it wasn’t going to be easy. According to his conversation with Dejun, it was crucial to find proof of Jaemin’s misdeeds before informing their mutual friends - yet finding a time alone with said boy’s phone would be near impossible, considering there’d be a large sum of people in his apartment.

After a while of organizing a scheme during his late night hours, Renjun had settled with mistaking his bag with Jaemin’s, and taking it into the bathroom to quickly shoot a video of his shared messages with Jisung. There were two flaws in this plan: Renjun had no bag that could be nearly mistaken with Jaemin’s incredibly unique and decorated tote, and even if he was able to jump over this hurdle eventually, he was not aware of his password. That being said, Jaemin was extremely predictable when it came to those things, so he assumed it’d be something along the lines of the anniversary of getting his cats.

Regardless of whether he was ready or not, Renjun was insistent on getting this evidence, feeling insanely guilty for the way he treated you. It didn’t entirely hit him until he saw you at a mall and waved at you, causing you to flinch and frown once you located him, that he realized how much he must’ve hurt you, and he knew he’d have to start working immediately to gain your forgiveness if he was to ever make up for his actions. You two had such a deep bond before the mishap, and he wasn’t willing to forget it so easily as he had before. Using that as encouragement, Renjun was prepared when the sun came and he was setting up snacks.

Jisung was the first to come, having a lot of spare time since your breakup, considering he was attached to your hip before. After him was Jeno, then Donghyuck, then lastly Jaemin. The rest had informed him earlier on that they’d be unavailable, which served as a breath of relief, because he knew it’d be harder to sneak around with two other nosy individuals watching his every move.

“I have to use the bathroom, but can you guys continue setting up in the kitchen? Leave your stuff here, I don’t want a mess on the table.” Renjun tried with all his might to appear unsuspicious, and it worked mostly since he had a very neutral tone, yet he missed one flaw in his plan - Donghyuck could not follow directions if his life depended on it. While the rest of the guys headed into the kitchen, Renjun took the green light to grab Jaemin’s bag, and he felt pride swell up at his success until a voice interrupted him. “What are you doing with his bag, Jun?” The voice was inquisitive, noticing how unusual it was for Renjun to confuse his own belongings.

“Oh, umm.. I just… There’s something I forgot… Umm-” “Don’t lie to me. Fess up.” “Fine, but you have to come into the bathroom with me.” “Are you flirting with me? I never thought this day would come-” Donghyuck’s quirky remark was stopped by Renjun pulling him by the ear.

“Okay. You have to promise to not blow my cover or snitch about any of this, it’ll ruin everything.” Donghyuck simply nodded, encouraging the older male to continue. “Dejun contacted me…” “That loser? Really?” “New rule. Don’t interrupt either. Anyway, he basically proved Y/n’s innocence to me. I know you’re like dead set on hating her and trust me, I was too, but they genuinely had all the proof necessary.” Donghyuck’s eyes widened at the revelation, almost in a shocked trance as he recalled all of his cruel words, yet Renjun continued. “Someone framed her, and all signs point to Jaemin. I knew from the beginning that he kind of had his eye on her, right? But I never knew it was this bad. Dejun told me he told Y/n that he and Jisung were fighting, which is a lie, and so Dejun told me to record his messages with Jisung to show her proof that he’s lying. After that, I’m allowed to tell you all that Y/n didn’t cheat. They already have a plan to confront Jaemin.”

The scene in front of Renjun was not one he was expecting - tears ran down Donghyuck’s closed eyes, and he quickly sniffled, raising his hand to wipe his cheeks. “Renjun… It’s… It’s all my fault, shit. He told me! I swear he showed me a photo… But I didn’t know…” “It’s okay, Hyuck. Calm down. What are you talking about?” “Jaemin! He showed me a photo of Y/n supposedly cheating, and I told Jisung, but now that I think about it - it probably wasn’t her, she just had similar hair. Fuck, she’s going to hate me. She probably already does… All I’ve done is tear her down and accuse her online.. Renjun, what do I do?” His desperation was obvious as he kept crying, reaching out to grab his friend’s arms and plead. “Help me distract Jaemin, Hyuck. It’s the best way you can help prove she’s innocent, and once we do this we can all apologize.” Renjun’s words were enough to make Donghyuck calm down and nod, rushing out of the bathroom to do as he was instructed.

Once he left, Renjun was quick to pull out his own phone, recording Jaemin’s messages with Jisung. Unsurprisingly, his password was his cats’ anniversary. Not even bothering to read them all, he just caught glimpses of the shared words, and it was clear to see Jaemin was lying. The feeling of hope surged in his body, knowing this would definitely be enough to both clear your name and prove to Jisung that you were innocent. The hope was diminished a bit, remembering Dejun’s words - you weren’t looking for Jisung’s forgiveness anymore, and the feelings you felt for him were no longer positive.

He thought back to the day after the breakup, when he was at Jisung’s apartment and you had left gifts at his doorstep. The fact that you were innocent throughout that exchange, and this could’ve been communicated earlier, as he assumed the letter you left was your attempt at explaining yourself, made his grief grow. Maybe if Jisung had known at that time, you would’ve gladly taken him back, yet it appeared that wasn’t an option anymore.

Nonetheless, you deserved to be apologized to, and Renjun was planning on helping this occur, so he swiped up until it was undebatable that you were being lied to, and after doing so, he snuck back into the living room, slipping the phone back into Jaemin’s bag and making a grand appearance in the kitchen.

It was truly hard to not make a scene right then and there, confronting the male, yet he knew it would be much more satisfying for you if you and your friends did so, so he held back, acting like nothing happened.

Throwing a glance at Donghyuck, who appeared to recover from his sobbing moment quickly, he nodded his head as to let him know he had succeeded, and a small grin grew on Donghyuck’s face. The rest of the night went as planned, yet every time either of the two interacted with Jaemin, there was a small disdain. On one side, Jaemin was their best friend and they had grown up together, yet on the other, he clearly didn’t value friendship as he was quick to throw away Jisung’s happiness, alongside yours, for his own selfish motives, so with all the strength Renjun could muster, he continued his plan until the very end. Once the night had ended and the boys had all left, he picked up his phone, navigating to his messages with Dejun and sending the video, in which he strategically clicked on Jaemin’s contact at the last minute, to make sure there was no excuse he could use, such as saying it wasn’t his number and the profile was fake. His part of plan was finally finished, and it was up to Dejun and Yangyang to take over now.

It was around midnight when a knock on your door disturbed your sleep. You had assumed, being as late as it was, that it must be a friend in an emergency, so you gathered yourself before approaching the door, yet as you checked through the peephole, the guest was not who you had expected.

“Donghyuck? What are you doing here?” With no verbal answer, the male quickly approached you and took you by shock by embracing you in a hug. Your eyes widened and you failed to reciprocate the affection, feeling uncomfortable instead of the usual warmth you once experienced with him. After a while of his embrace, he realized you weren’t accepting his hug and stepped back, and the tears came back concerningly quick.

“Y/nie,” he started with the nickname he used to address you by, which brought back several memories, yet the shell you had grown took over once more, refusing to find comfort in what he was saying, “I’m so, so sorry. You have to believe me… I didn’t know.” Putting two and two together, you gathered that he was unconsciously addressing the elephant in the room - he was aware, now, that you hadn’t cheated.

You should’ve felt angry, honestly. You should’ve kicked him out of your apartment and cussed him out before slamming the door on his face, yet all you could feel was sorrow. Sorrow for how quickly he abandoned your friendship, sorrow for the fact that it took him this long to realize you weren’t capable of cheating, and sorrow for the fact that you couldn’t find it in yourself to forgive him. You weren’t mad at him, you were simply disappointed, and this disappointment prohibited your mind from allowing him back in, so you shook your head at his words, taking a step back into your familiar living room.

His eyes faltered as he noticed you weren’t accepting what he was saying, and his desperation grew once more as he stepped forward, trying to follow you, yet you stopped him with an arm to his chest. “Donghyuck…” He flinched at the tone in which you said his name, also noticing that you didn’t call him Hyuck as you once did, yet he didn’t believe it was at his liberty to ask you to, so he let you continue. “I don’t know how you found out but… But I don’t want you guys coming over here please. I assume you all know now… and I don’t want to see you. Any of you. Please understand where I’m coming from… I’m not mad, I just… We aren’t friends anymore, you made that clear, so please leave. And tell the others to not come either.” Donghyuck’s tears increased at your words, and a part of you would find this scene humorous - he wasn’t even the one who broke up with you yet he seemed so torn by what you said - had you not been so miserable at the current situation.

“Y/n, please. I… I get why you don’t want to see us, but we’re all so, so sorry, and we want to make it up to you. I know why you said we aren’t friends - none of us have treated you like one, but we can make it up to you and we will.. Please… Jisung loves you and I know when he finds out, he’s going to feel so horrible, and he’s going to seek you out. If you can’t forgive us, please at least listen to him.” Donghyuck didn’t miss the way you lightly flinched at the mention of your ex, and it was then that you began to cry as well, mirroring him. “No.” Your tone was hushed, almost a whisper as you shook your head, “I tried… I did… He ignored me, he called me a whore Donghyuck! I don’t want to see him please… Don’t tell him the truth, I’d rather he think I cheated. He doesn’t love me, because he doesn’t trust me at all… You get that, right? We were together for years, yet at a mere mention of me being supposedly unfaithful he… he left me… You can’t love someone and not trust them.” Your words were rambled and the tears grew tenfold, “Please go. I have to go to sleep-” “Y/nie, please…” “I have to sleep. Please don’t tell him. Goodnight.” Not letting him continue to plead, you stepped back and closed the door in front of the male, staring at the darkness of your living room in shock for a few minutes, before falling to your knees against the door, and it was only then that you began to sob loudly, hiding your face in your arms.

The only thought flooding your mind was the pitiful question, repeated over and over again, until you grew tired from crying and eventually fell asleep in the uncomfortable position. Why did it take him this long to understand how much you loved him? You would’ve trusted him…

a/n: haechan's part lowkey reminded me of my ex so i spiraled into our old messages and cried to sienna gosh its so hard being a lover girl in this world </3 (don't take me seriously this was months ago and i've moved on... mostly...)

this isn't as long as i thought itd be please forgive me guys... i'll be posting the next chapter soon :3 and it will be so ANSGTY! possible jisung y/n reunion (not dating lol i hope no one's hopes are high cause i'm dragging this outttt) but at what cost?

i'm working on a taglist bc one of you beautiful readers helped me tysm!!! so that will be done soon >.< let me know if you want to be on it in the notes or in my inbox <3 i'll add everyone who's asked so far

anyway... i will dedicate this chapter to all the readers who have also been heart broken... i hope we all heal. for now i personally heal by fangirling over nct because they've helped me sm ^_^ so expect a LOT more fics and smaus to come >:3

#nct dream #nct dream x reader #kpop smau #nct x reader #park jisung #park jisung smau #park jisung x reader #nct dream smau #nct #jisung x reader

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twst-drabbles · 9 months ago

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Malleus 15

Summary: A way home was finally found a year after you rejected Malleus's advances. Once you got home and were settled in, an invitation made it's way to you, written to you by Malleus Draconia, King of Briar Valley. How many years have passed?

(I've been on an odd writing spree, but for my original writings. It's weird, but I'll take it! Anyways, have a what-if situation of a King Malleus still yearning for the Prefect! Might continue it if people are interested enough in this what-if scenario.)

"Then would it be possible," Malleus reaching out to you as you faced the star-filled sky, "for you and I to share in each others lives?"

…and so the day finally came. When Malleus would gather up his courage and confess in the way all faeries do, in sentences layered over passionate feelings.

Honestly, the thought of being in a relationship with Malleus didn't sound all that bad. He's a sweet man, if a bit air headed with how easily lost in.

You do feel bad, honestly, for the fact that your feelings never ran deeper than general interest. You don't yearn for him, you can't. Especially not when you know that he's a prince. If you want to love him properly, if you want to build upon this general interest, you'd have to accept that specific part of him.

However, when you imagine the future laying before you, you see that it has nothing to do royalty.

Malleus has done nothing wrong. It's just unfortunate that he's a prince. His future was simply not one that will mesh well with your own.

"My life in my own," you said, "I don't intent to share it anymore than I already have. I'm… simply not interested."

You knew him too well. You can't pretend to be ignorant and go through hoops just to convince yourself that surely he didn't mean that, that he meant something different and that it's all platonic. Because, to you, that's just an excuse to not be blunt and say no. To avoid hurting the other party.

But avoiding what needs to be said is worse.

So, you had to reject him and leave it at that. You didn't like hurting him, but you also can't delude yourself and think that everything will somehow work out, especially since your feelings don't match his own.

Malleus didn't push and you didn't make him leave. And so you both stayed, continuing on as you always have, two people with positions too unique to truly be ignored.

The day came that you would leave. You said your goodbyes, you had your parties and feasts, and when all was said and done, you were relieved to be leaving. To finally go back home.

You waved to them all, to all the people you've met along the way, and passed through the mirror without a second glance back.

Time barely passed by when you got home. So little time, in fact, that your phone was still near to full battery. Dust didn't collect on your bed or dining table like you expected, and there wasn't a single voice message or text asking about your whereabouts.

It's as if you didn't vanish at all. Well, to be fair, you weren't the kind of person to keep in constant or close touch with anyone. You liked your alone time a little more than the average person, but it wasn't anything to make you feel guilty over.

In fact, you're relieved, that only a minimal amount of time has escaped you. You didn't have to go home to frantic worries, to people getting angry out of concern for your sudden disappearance. Everything was calm and level. It was easy enough to go back to the routine you had before.

You missed this, you will admit that. You missed the air and scent of your bed, the grocery store and all its busy chatting, the scent of baked or fried snacks surrounding the local flea market, and even the way the wind flows through the trees. Sure sure, the land you were previously in had all these things, but they weren't yours if that made sense.

Honestly, after a while, you were almost convinced that everything that went on back in Night Raven College was just a dream. If only because, like a dream, you can really only enter and exit such places once.

But then an invitation entered your hand.

Addressed to you, handwritten in such a way that can only be taught in professional calligraphy classes. It tells of a tour around the gardens in the abode of the King of Briar Valley.

King, huh? Has that much time really passed? Putting that aside for a moment, you can't say you were shocked that, out of all people to be able to send a letter right to you, you would place your bets on Malleus.

That being said, you couldn't say no. It's been a while but you're familiar with Malleus's language. A simple tour just for the sake of a tour? No, that's not it at all. He probably misses you. And, to an extent, you miss being over there. A visit is probably due right about now.

And, if things go the same way as they did last time, you'll be gone then back in the blink of an eye.

So, you wrote your reply and placed in on the nearest full body mirror.

You probably should've practiced your landing when it comes to mirror traveling. You fell right through, though you were lucky enough to grab the edge of the mirror before you could crack your knees.

Immediately, you were hit with the scent of cold and old magic, that sharp scent, not quite ozone, less metallic than that, less chemical-like than that. It was neutral magic, subdued in smell but overpowering enough to fill your sense anyway.

It's been a hot minute since you've been here. You're not quite to magic anymore, and you couldn't help but start coughing and clearing your throat.

Then, you were practically washed away with the smell of fresh rosemary.

"You…" And, as you expected, his voice stayed the same, and yet you can hear it, that small bit of quivering, as though he can't believe what's before him. "So, the invitation did make its way towards you, dear Child of Man. Are you alright? Are you sick?"

You held out your hand and coughed into your hand, trying to get this weird stickiness out.

"I'm, ugh, I'm fine, Hornton," Ah, should you really be calling him that now that he's king, apparently? Ah, who cares, you're the guest, you can be forgiven. "It's been a bit. Not all that used to magic anymore, is all."

And then, you looked up. Before, you wouldn't say his horns were malleable or soft, but there is a difference to them. Their color has darkened, and there these silver decorations about them that made those horns seem longer than they actually are.

There was a laugh. "Are my horns truly such a marvel? Well, if you so ask, I won't mind you touching them, if only to prove to you that they are no mere illusion."

"No, I'm good on that front," you sighed then finally looked to Malleus's face. "Huh. You look… older."

Older, and that's honestly kind of concerning for you. He isn't aged, not in the same way you've felt around Lilia. Yes yes, Lilia has a youthful face to him, but after a while, you can't help but notice the little things that betray his true age. Much like now, where you can see the slightest dips in his eyes, near his mouth.

Like most fae, they seem forever young, but the signs don't skip anyone no matter long they stay alive.

The fact is, enough time has passed that Malleus visibly aged.

Malleus, in all his kingly regalia, closed his eyes and took a deep breathe in. "It hasn't been that long. How many years…twenty? Perhaps thirty or less? Ah but, that's an age for children of men, isn't it? And yet, time hasn't so much as glanced at you. You look just the same as I remember, perhaps more youthful. But, that aside, I'm glad to know that this invitation made it you, before life has left your body."

…thirty years? Thirty years? So, time really does pass by differently in your home, huh? That's… you don't know what to think, honestly. Awful? Interesting? It certainly doesn't feel good.

"That long? How much did I miss?" Were there reunions? Letters written to you but could never be sent? And how is everyone else doing with their lives? Are they still alive? Did someone die an early death potentially? And what about families? Did they start some?

…ugh, you hate this feeling. You only have theories and questions and already you're feeling left out from it all.

Well, all you can do is take it one step at a time. Get to know what has happened, and move forward from there. You have no choice but to do so.

Malleus placed a gloved hand on his chin. "…it would take too much time to say right now. Perhaps I'll tell you all that I know as I walk you around the garden? You did accept the invitation, did you not?"

Your mind wasn't quite here, so you just nodded with a, "Right, right."

"Then," Malleus turned, his hair much longer now, perfectly groomed without a knot in there, "shall we be off?"

And you followed, feeling a bit awkward in the fact you were just wearing casual wear.

"…is that lipstick you're wearing, Hornton?" Probably not what you should be focusing on, but you couldn't help but notice. You're more used to his pallid lips than that luscious color.

"Hmm? Why, yes. It was shade recommended to me by one of my servants. If I remember right, this was something crafted by Schoenheit."

"Oh, so his stuff's world famous now, I take it?"

"World famous? Hmm, not quite sure what that entails, but the influence has made its place here. So, influential enough. Does it look odd on me?"

"Don't worry, it looks nice."

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #drabble #diasomnia #malleus draconia #reader insert #years later au #malleus

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balkanradfem · 16 days ago

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So, in the light of sharing lesbian experiences, I thought I'd try sharing a story that makes me wary of dating; it ends in hubris, so be warned. It might make it more clear why I'm not trying to date the hot woman in my building! Click read more for a long sad lesbian story.

Years ago, I had a crush on a woman I met on tumblr. I started talking to her, and I told her honestly that I like her, and asked her if she was into women. She said yes! We started chatting and communicating daily, and after a bit we switched over to sending emails, so we could write long stories to each other. She was incredibly smart, talented, creative, she was a good storyteller, she knew so much about plants and animals, she had a garden, a dog, she lived in a country close to mine, so I could logically, at one point, sit on a train and meet her.

After we talked excitedly for a while, she told me she has a crush on me too. I was so happy. The unreachable scenario, your crush likes you back. I was living it, I was beside myself. I was dreaming of being in a relationship with her and how that would look like, and she was sending me flirty little messages in the emails. We kept talking, and slightly flirting with each other in our emails, and this went on for months. She would tell me about her life, experiences, past relationships, her art and books she wrote. I was into it all, I read anything she wrote or drew, I offered support whenever she was having a rough time or was bothered by something. I noticed at this point that if I send her my stuff, she doesn't really comment on it, but I felt okay about it, since I already had enough confidence, and wasn't looking to get praise.

During this time, I grew attached to her, I started to really love her. She was sweet and warm and so interesting to me. She knew a lot about stuff I didn't! Her stories and art were admirable and I remember fondly going trough it over and over. I felt a little bit like a child next to her, since she was 10 years older, and smarter, and I kept trying to prove that I too, am an adult, who knows stuff, and is smart. At one point we decided to have a video call, and I was so nervous, I had to go be outside to connect to a wifi, and I kept thinking what if it's awkward, what if we don't know what to say? I decided to tackle that issue by going trough a comic she drew and then using the call to give her tons of feedback, praise and opinions on it, it was a long comic so I was able to talk about it for an hour! She was happy to discuss it and our conversation went lightly and we had fun. I asked her at the end if she had a good time, and she said – yes, we talked about me the entire time! And I hadn't even realized that, until she said it. I think I felt a bit weird about it afterwards, because I do tend to fixate on people I like a lot, but ultimately, you know, we could talk about other things next time.

This is where things started feeling weird. We were talking for about 6 months then, and she was starting to disappear without notice. I wouldn't get my emails answered in a while, and every time I grew anxious and upset, wondering if I did something wrong, or she just got busy. At first I just blamed myself for, you know, being mentally ill, having abandonment issues, worrying too much. But I felt more anxious every time she'd disappear. I would sometimes have to go away too, for a few days, but I would always warn her, and let her know when I'd be away, and when I'd come back. She'd never say anything. So next time she disappeared on me, I asked her to please just let me know when she's leaving, because I easily get worried and miss her, and I do have some issues that make me feel abandoned. She said it was difficult for her to read this, because it makes her look inconsiderate in comparison to me, but she'll of course, say something next time.

She didn't. She kept both disappearing, and being too busy to respond to me. And even though we started talking with the idea of being in a relationship, it was never later discussed or prompted again, she only would add one flirty sentence to each email, so I'd know she's still interested. But now she was disappearing, or ignoring me, or - just lost interest. I had to slowly realize that we were not, in fact, going to date. Because if she wanted to be in a relationship, surely by now it would be at least discussed or mentioned, and we would want to spend more time together, find out more about each other. And instead she was responding to me less, growing away from me, but still wrote in flirty lines. I was heartbroken, but also found it too difficult to keep pretending that it's going to happen, when it clearly was not, the contrast of what she was saying, and what was happening, was too much for me.

It took me a hot minute to gather my courage, and then I wrote to her that her disappearances are heavy on my mental health, and in order for me to feel normal about it, it's best if we continue as just good friends, and then I won't have to be stressed about why she's not responding to me. And she responded to that one instantly, saying no, we're going to date, in fact we can be dating now, she wants to. But this was instead, even more confusing to me, because why now? We didn't mention it for months, there was no progression towards it, she's organically responding to me less and less, obviously losing interest in talking regularly, she didn't care to warn me of her disappearances to ease my worry and anxiety over losing her, so how could she actually want to date? I sent her an email apologizing, calling myself an idiot, offering to talk her trough my mental process of making this decision, blamed it all on myself and my mental illness, but I couldn't bring myself back in the mindset of just, waiting for her messages, worrying if she was losing interest in me, worrying if I did something wrong and she didn't want to be with me anymore. It was mortifying to me.

I sent her further two emails apologizing and asking if she was okay, now worried if I hurt her with my giving up on romance, if she's maybe upset with me. I said sorry so many times and asked her to please share with me how this has affected her.

She never replied to any. She never talked to me again.

And I didn't understand, for a long time, what had happened there. Nothing made sense to me, in one second she was asking for a relationship, and then in the next moment she was done with me forever. I waited for a reply for such a long time, before I finally accepted that it's not coming, she wasn't... she wasn't interested in even being friends with me.

This was baffling, because I believed we had, in fact, created a good friendship over those 6 months! We learned about each other's lives, interests, pasts, we discussed ideas and art and feminism and capitalism, we told each other stories, we shared our struggles and days, we had our jokes and references, I had an entire library of her works and art in my head at this point and cared for her deeply. I thought we had a bond, and regardless of it being a friendship or a romance, we cared for each other. And I could see we weren't going to progress to a relationship, because she lost interest, or at least the desire to talk to me regularly, and I accepted it, so what was wrong?

Well, it would take me months more of thinking it trough and catching little hints and signs of things that were wrong. During our conversation, since I hoped that we would date, I would regularly try to prop her up and make her feel good about herself; I always wanted her to feel special and amazing, and would often shower her in praise and admiration. I wanted her to know that being with me would mean constant support and appreciation of everything good about her, and she'd get endless warmth and adoration, because this is what I thought relationships should be like, right, and I wanted her to know that's what I wanted for us. This sentiment was not returned to me in kind, but I didn't mind since I could already feel good about myself. She also didn't react if I sent her some of my work, but I would react to her stuff for ages, because I knew how good it is to get feedback on your own creation, anyone would enjoy that. I realized belatedly, that when she'd ask for support, I'd drop everything to reassure her and comfort her, and be mad at her behalf, while when I asked for support, she'd kinda side with me but still talk about herself. But all of these things were so subtle and tiny to me, I couldn't even see them over the excitement of 'my crush likes me back'.

I wondered, if she wasn't into me at all, then why didn't she just turn me down at the start, or somewhere down the line, she could tell me if she wasn't actually interested in dating me. Because if she seriously did want to date me, then she could have tried being friends with me, speak with me more consistently, show me that she was serious and that she does want to talk to me, and then try for a relationship later; it was unlikely that I would say no, I was filled with adoration for her. So she didn't want a relationship, and she didn't want a friendship, so why didn't she just say no to me?

Because she wanted the attention. She liked being adored and having someone pursue her so passionately. And the rest... didn't really matter to her. She would have only talked to me, and flirted with me, to have me believe we were going to date, and the second I didn't believe it, and I wouldn't pursue her in that way.. I was as good as dead to her. I was just a resource in there. She didn't care when I was starting to get hurt by being ignored by her, and she didn't care when I specifically said to her that I was struggling with mental health because she was trying to have me believe in something I saw wasn't true. She still tried to push me back into pursuing her after I gave up because of pain. She wanted the attention even when it was hurting me to give it.

I also tried to put myself in her shoes, and see how I would react in her place. I imagined if I had flirted with someone, and then ignored them for a while, and they then asked to be just friends. I don't think I would have even attempted to persuade them to go back to how they were before, because I would be horrified that I set this person up with false expectations, and then caused them pain by failing them. I would be relieved that they weren't mad at me for leading them on, and would feel awful for leading them on at all. But I also wouldn't even bring myself into this situation; if I had feelings for someone, and then realized they're fading away, but this person was still hopeful, or anxious, I'd have to set them straight and tell them what's up, so they could get a chance to move on. Saying 'no I actually want to date, lets go back to that' when I'm ready to drop them in an instant would be unthinkable to me.

What happened was so much worse than being rejected, or turned down. I was at this point wishing so badly that I had just been rejected. I would have moved on from that in a day or two. I had created a whole bond with a person who could not have cared less, and who dropped me the second I did something they didn't like. If I had known that's the reality of it, I would have never wanted to be friends, or anything else. And I also had no way of knowing, it was a shock when things turned out this badly.

I left that experience with some new conclusions. One was that I'll never try to date someone who makes me feel like a child. When I would feel dumb or childish next to her, she would poke fun at it and tease me about it, when I would genuinely feel not taken seriously, and I hated every minute of it, I hated having to prove that I'm an equal to someone. I also would no longer try to pursue anyone with so much love and attention. I might have been wrong to be so honest and direct with my intentions and my feelings. I set myself up for exploitation. It wasn't the first time I was exploited in that way either, this was just one of the worst ones.

After this experience, for a while I stopped liking people in general. Considering even being friends with someone, filled me with anxiety and exhaustion. I fell depressed and had thoughts about never talking to anyone again. I just didn't want to be put trough this again, and it took time for me to believe that a person can be that selfish and cruel, and hide it for so long, I didn't believe this could happen. I guess it hit me worse than it would have because I have abandonment issues, and this falls heavy on a heart of a person who's been abandoned before.

But anyway, I am feeling better now, and I'm very careful about having any kind of ideas about dating! I'm not interested in anyone who gives even the tiniest hint of mixed signals, or wanting to play with my heart, or promise anything unlikely or far down the line. If someone says they like me I won't even believe them! But, I'm keeping my honesty, and I won't set anyone up for this kind of pain. If I don't intend to be with someone, they'll know right away :).

#sad lesbian experience #failed attempt at relationships #i still got so upset writing this!!!!#like i forgot about it mostly but when i remembered i felt the yikes and the pain #and the thing is i even considered if i was too harsh figuring out her motives #but she left #she left me to come to my own conclusions #and this is the only one that made complete sense #nothing alternative checked out

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brainworms-all-night-long · 26 days ago

Text

Happy wednesday birthday Tails, this one exist thanks to you @emerald-antssss :D

^that one post of mine saying acoustic guitar is Tails' comfort sound

[1,655 words]

———

He stared up at the stars. Normally the sight of them would bring comfort, a feeling of freedom, and remembrance of simpler times, but now he all but glared at them with tired eyes and annoyance in mind.

It's been days since he managed to keep his eyes closed for the whole night, or even once he did, he woke up for seemingly no reason.

Something was keeping Tails from resting properly which only made him more irritated, which, made it hard to fall asleep in the first place because his head would just not shut up and rest and instead tried to figure out what was bugging him so much.

It's not that he wasn't tired, far from it. That was the biggest problem, in fact.

If he's tired on his travels he risks dropping his guard which could get him hurt or worse. When he's not thinking clearly talking to other people is a hassle that could lead to a pointless misunderstanding or two, or again, something worse. But the absolute worst of all, when he's tired he's easily irritated by everything which makes sleeping in the first place a problem.

Eventually, he managed to narrow things down to some form of anxiety, but that brought him around to not knowing the source of that anxiety which is pretty much net-zero information.

He had plenty of food and water, shelter was suitable, forecast was clear and he wasn't that far away from civilization if he really got himself into trouble. The Tornado was still in perfect shape and Miles Electric along with his communicator functioned as they should. Nothing was broken, nothing was missing nothing dreadful was waiting for him tomorrow, there was nothing to be anxious about!

Well. Something was missing, or rather someone, but that was dumb. The whole purpose of going off on his own was to stop thinking about Sonic at every turn he ran into an issue with himself. This whole trip around the world was to show he can handle himself, that he's big and skilled enough, that he doesn't need to rely on anyone. And yet here he was, scared to sleep because his big brother wasn't with him.

It made no sense either, before this Sonic disappeared for months at a time doing his own thing, and he didn't feel anxiety then, why was his head actively sabotaging him now.

Tails groaned with all the might of an annoyed, tired, (almost) adolescent fox and sat up.

He glared at the end of his sleeping bag as if it personally wronged him.

Not that he was already at his wit's end but there was always an abundance of irrational thoughts after multiple allnighters (this time he didn't go through them willingly though, and there was no annoyingly dotting hedgehog who would usher him out of his workspace and to his bed.)

Tails pressed the bridge of his nose, as if that would help push the whiny thoughts away (it didn't), and he forced out another groan.

The least he could do was to check if Sonic was alive. Even if he knew for certain he was, the fox mused, perhaps that would be enough to at least mute the storm brewing in his gut for the past two weeks.

Grabbing his communicator, Tails opened the contacts, no need to scroll, the one he was looking for sat at the very top and doubled an emergency dial.

A quick check of Sonic's profile showed all his vitals active and, strangely calm. So the hedgehog was most likely napping somewhere.

Best not to disturb him then.

But to no one's surprise, seeing some colorful numbers next to the hedgehog's name did nothing to help.

He kept his eyes on the repeating heart rate graphic and yawned.

They made an agreement he would be called only in the case of a pressing world-ending issue, so he should be glad and happy his brother was mostly radio silent from his end.

Of course there was the weekly "Hey you still breathing?" message from each of his friends that Tails either replied to with a dry "yes" or a thumbs-up emoji.

And while Tails was glad Sonic was respecting his wishes, not having someone by him physically to tell him his self-deprecating thoughts are being stupid, he falls for them.

Sonic was just fine without him, and he should be too.

He's not a helpless child anymore– he's eleven for crying out loud, he should know better!

He should be able to fall asleep without issue while knowing a sudden gust of wind and a cheer signaling the return of his brother with a dozen chili dogs and nightly presence over a campfire they shared will not come.

Tails shouldn't need that anymore.

He shouldn't be lingering over the blue-coded contact the way he does.

Of course, it could all be blamed on his sleepiness, which in turn was the result of his childishness, which...

This time it was the communicator that recieved a glare.

It wasn't its fault really, it was fault of no one but himself.

He could wait until complete exhaustion got him of course, because one way or another his body will eventually force him to sleep. But the last thing he needed was to collapse in a less than ideal situation and put his life in danger.

Tails gave a shaky exhale, already regretting his choice yet to come as he pressed the dial-up.

Sonic always picks up on the second ring so if he doesn't, he'll just hang up and say it was an accident–

"Heya buddy! Everything all right?"

Nevermind then.

Tails cursed his weakened state of mind that caused him to falter this much, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

"H-hey." The fox croaked, way more strained than he wished to sound. The shift in Sonic's attitude was felt even despite the most likely continental gap between them.

"Yeah, I'm just..." he's just what? Sorry for being a failure and annoying Sonic after telling everyone to leave him be? Angry at himself for failing the only promise of being big enough to take care of himself? Exasperated over the fact his head just won't shut up "I'm sorry, I probably woke you up, I shouldn't have called-"

"No, I've been wide awake and doing nothing don't hang up!"

Sonic urged, worry spiking his tone in a way only Tails could discern. But the openness to just talking wouldn't be lost on anyone that has ever had a conversation.

"Where you at now big guy?"

Just off the communicator's mike he caught a strangely familiar, rhythmic tap of fingers against wood as they sat in silence because the little worm of possibility that Sonic was missing just a bit didn't allow him to talk.

Overplayed on top of that, was him finally recognizing the the sound Tails perked up.

"Are you, playing the guitar?"

Sonic gave a weak chuckle and equally quiet "Yeah." as if he was shy about getting caught over something so benign.

Tails opted to ignore the previous question since he didn't know properly either and focused on the guitar instead.

It's been, quite a while since Tails heard his brother play anything on it. After he received a stable roof over his head and their lives became far more complicated, there was less time and need for it at the end of the day.

Hearing Sonic play, and grow more skillful over the years, has always and without fail managed to soothe the fox, no matter the trouble or environment they faced prior.

But the hassle of having to carry around a whole ass instrument unsuited for those drastic environments that was pretty much as big as him wasn't lost on him. He can't deny Sonic obviously enjoyed playing the guitar, but he knows there's a lot of things the hedgehog did just for Tails' sake and nothing else.

Tails thought he stopped playing altogether after some time, but it seems he was wrong.

(He also thought he didn't need his big brother for comfort but he was gravely wrong about that as well.)

"Could you, could you play me something?" Tails asked so meekly he wanted to punch himself, he doubted it was possible to make himself more of a baby than he already was. He just wanted to sleep already.

Sonic's smile radiated at him even without a visual feed and a crunchy sound of rapidly plucked strings rang from the comunicator.

"Sure thing, got anything particular in mind?"

"Not really I just, I want to hear you play."

The "say no more." went unsaid as Sonic picked out a random melody and went with the flow.

That was until some parts gave Tails deja vu so strong he could swear he heard this song a thousand times already. No need to fight against it, he decided.

If anything, it did return him in time, to simpler times, when it was just him and Sonic and the campfire and the stars with a new day so far ahead he found himself not caring about what it might bring for the first time in his short life.

Even the communicator's less than suitable microphone didn't do the music any justice and picked up every third tone Sonic played, Tails didn't care. He knew this melody by heart, he realized, the gaps filled out by themselves.

It was less about wanting to hear music, than who was playing it. And well ok, maybe there wasn't anything bad about wanting to hear from his brother once in a blue moon.

Tails laid back down, closing his eyes.

Finally free from the unexplainable tension or the impending feeling of having needing to wake up again as soon as possible, It almost felt as if Sonic was right there by him, and he finally slept easy with that notion.

#sonic the hedgehog #yes sonic is indeed missing tails thats why hes plaing the guitar #these two idots absolute bafoons #tails my bayby boy maturing is not forcing yourself into isolation #and in case its not clear this is like. a post frontiers thing #if there are typos or nonsensical sequences if sentences ignore them Ill fix it a couple weeks/months later shgdjfh #miles tails prower #tails the fox #sonic #sonic and tails #wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #wsatw #oh yeagh and happy birthday tails <3 #me when I finish writing

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