#it started off as an angsty thing for lit but then i realized the first part could be turned into peppinoise so i copy pasted it into a
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
i’m writing peppinoise and NOBODY CAN STOP ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
#hahehahhehahehahhehahae#it started off as an angsty thing for lit but then i realized the first part could be turned into peppinoise so i copy pasted it into a#separate thing and now i’m doing still kinda angsty (i think) peppinoise thing!!!!!!!!!!#i will probably finish the lit version of it but not right now cause now i write gay people being gay and in denial#ooooooh dearie me the sillies are being goofs about their feelings and are unable to clearly express themselves due to harbored emotions of#guilt and resentment not toward each other but toward the world for how it’s wronged them and how it causes them to express such feelings#against each other because they have no other outlet or stable way of healthy communication!!!!!! ooooooooh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#anyway i’ll prolly post it here when it’s finished unless i die because it’s late or i forget entirely#I’ll probably post it though cause my friend who likes peppinoise is on here and i’ll probably end up putting it here in his honor#ummmmmmm anyway enough cramming words into the tags!!!!!! back to writing!!!!!!!!
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
please baby | c. s. |
chris sturniolo x fem!reader
summary: chris and y/n have always had what felt like a perfect relationship. that is, until a few weeks ago. chris had been treating y/n poorly, and after one especially hurtful conversation, she is forced to make a difficult decision. when chris comes to the realization that he is about to lose it all, will he swallow his pride and do what he needs to win her back?
warnings: established relationship; smut; angst; fighting; (relatively) toxic chris; crying; unprotected sex; fluff; 18+
notes: based on this request by 🎀. i've never rlly written an angsty fic before, so let me know what u all think! also wrote this super quick so i don't think it's my best work, but still i hope u enjoy <333
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
Through tears, I stared blankly at my phone. My eyes had been glued to my lit up screen for the past two minutes — unmoving, and unable to register what I was reading. Even with blurry vision, Chris’ last message to me was seared into my memory.
Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.
Just as my brimmed tears finally spilled over, so did the water I was boiling on the stove. The immediate steam and sizzling noises pulled me from my phone, and frustrated for more than one reason, I raced over to the stove and shoved the pot off of the element; leaving the boiling pasta noodles to sit in the water. Just looking at my failed attempt at dinner brought on a new level of pain, as it was a reminder of what I hoped that the night could be.
Chris, my boyfriend of almost one year, was supposed to be coming over tonight. I had been super excited, because both of our schedules had been especially busy lately and we hadn’t been able to spend much time together over the past three weeks, plus I had some good news to share with him about my work. I had wanted to make the night special, so I had decided to cook one of Chris’ favourite meals — chicken alfredo — to surprise him with once he arrived.
He was currently stuck at the warehouse for a merch meeting with Nick, Matt, and his manager, and he had told me that he would come over and spend the night once he was done there. That was a few hours ago, and I had been patiently waiting for an update from him until about thirty minutes ago, when I sent him a simple message asking if he had any idea when he would be done at the warehouse. Little did I know, that singular message would cause a massive storm to erupt.
Y/n: hey babe! just wondering if you have an idea on when you can come over?
Chris: Not rlly sure
Y/n: okay…rough estimate maybe?
Y/n: just have some things i need to get done before u get here hehe
Chris: I’ll get there when I get there.
Y/n: uh..is something wrong?
Chris: No why
Y/n: ur being kinda mean???
Chris: No I’m not
Y/n: ok
Chris: My god Y/n I don’t have time for this rn
Y/n: i just said ok
Y/n: you go ahead and go back to your meeting
Y/n: i was just asking for an update, that’s all.
Y/n: didn’t realize that was such a horrible thing.
Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.
Even though I hate to admit it, this wasn’t the first time that Chris had been an absolute asshole to me lately. Just last week, he had started a fight that ended with him hanging up the phone on me; only to call back a little while later to apologize. And then a few days before that, he had put zero effort into making time for me when I had tried to make plans for us to go to the movies. And during all of this, he has been incredibly dry over messages. It had been bothering me for a while now, because to me it was clear that he was losing interest. I knew that our relationship would be far from perfect going in to it, considering Chris had never been in a real relationship before me, but deep down I hoped that it would always be as perfect as it was at the beginning. Unfortunately for my hopes and dreams, his actions — or lack thereof — were shattering.
I wasn’t some oblivious girlfriend either; it was clear to me that Chris was going through something. I knew that for a fact, but every time I tried to get him to open up to me about it all, he shut me down with lame excuses: “Oh, I’m just tired,” or, “I’ve just been stressed lately”. I figured that he just needed time, and that eventually he would come to me and explain exactly what had been going on so that I could help him through it.
But now, after his hurtful words to me tonight, I was seriously considering my other options. I had been in far too many toxic relationships in the past, and had learned that I deserve more than what I had been accepting. I wouldn’t let myself be Chris’ punching bag anymore, and I knew right then and there that I had an incredibly painful task to do.
Allowing myself to be overtaken by my build up of tears, I slowly walked into my bedroom; turning off the lights and covering myself with my comforter. My shoulders heaved as I let the tears stream down my face; my brain accepting what I needed to do but my body rejecting it in every way possible. Through the tears, I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Chris — telling him that I was tired and that he might as well not come at all tonight, but we should talk tomorrow — before curling into a ball and wallowing in my own sorrows.
I stayed in the exact same position for what felt like ages; allowing myself to get all of the emotions out now so that when I had to do what I had to do tomorrow I could do so without breaking down so hard. Eventually, my tears slowed and I felt my burning eyes begin to grow heavy. Sleep was beginning to overtake me, and as I gave into my exhaustion my mind filled with scenes of the nightmare that I was going to have to face tomorrow.
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
I was startled out of my sleep by the sound of keys jangling from the direction of my front door. Disoriented, it took me a moment to be overtaken by the feeling of dread that came from hearing that noise. The only person who had a key to my apartment was Chris. Before, hearing his keys at my door filled my stomach with undeniable excitement — now, my stomach did anxious flips knowing what had to be done.
As I heard the door open and close, I rolled over so that I was facing away from my bedroom door and glued my eyes shut; pretending to still be asleep. I heard his soft footsteps on the other side of the door as he wandered through my dark apartment, before a hushed “shit!” broke the silence. After a few moments, I listened as his footsteps grew closer and closer to my bedroom door, and as I heard it slowly creak open, I braced for impact.
The room stayed silent, though I couldn’t really say that for sure since I couldn’t hear anything above the sound of my own racing heart in my ears. I did my best to stay completely still, though it felt like every part of my body was vibrating; waiting for his next move. Suddenly, I felt a shift in my mattress as his body leaned against it, and physically jumped at the feeling of his hand on my shoulder; shaking it gently.
“Y/n, wake up.” He spoke in a faux whisper, and, even though I had been pretending, I felt my body grow hot in anger that he would have the audacity to wake me from my sleep after showing up to my apartment uninvited. However, my body still not understanding that it wouldn’t belong to him much longer, I shot up from my place on the bed and searched for his eyes. The room was pitch black, but I could sense exactly where he was in front of me.
Rubbing my eyes, I searched the bed for my phone, checking the time to find that it was already nearly 2 a.m. I felt the mattress shift once again and watched his faint outline as he sat on his side of my bed. “Y/n, you left the stove on.” He was still whispering, and his sentence ended in a slight chuckle; clearly oblivious to the decision that I had made on my own just hours before.
Too heartbroken to really care about the stove, I shrugged my shoulders. “Whoops.” Was all I said to the silent room. “What happened? You fall asleep in the middle of making dinner or something?” His voice was still light-hearted, and was far from a tone that matched his previous texts to me. It made it so difficult for me to remember what I had to do.
“Turn the lamp on please.” I said simply, using every ounce of strength in my body to keep my tone monotonous. Chris stayed still for a moment, clearly thrown off by my behaviour. “Uh, okay.” He finally said as he leaned toward the bedside table closest to him and switched on the warm-toned light. After allowing my eyes time to adjust to the sudden brightness, they immediately fell on him.
Oh, my Chris.
His beautiful blue eyes were so kind and bright, his long hair was wet and messily draped across his forehead, and his matching oversized sweat set made me want nothing more than to curl into him and breathe him in. He stared at me blankly for a moment, clearly beginning to register that I was upset, before finally speaking. “I’m really sorry about earlier, baby. I had been in the meeting for hours and was getting really stressed out.” I felt the lump in my throat begin to grow. Some variation of that exact sentence had been the same excuse he had given me each and every time he had hurt me over the past few weeks, and it had lost its sincerity long ago. So, instead of giving into his cheap apology, I sat up in my bed and faced him; taking a deep breath before speaking.
“I have to tell you something. And I need you to let me say this without interrupting, or else I’m scared I won’t be able to go through with it. I’ve had to say this for a while now, and now that we are where we are I know it has to be done. So please, let me say it, okay?” His light eyes were focused intensely on me, he was clearly trying to figure out where this conversation was going. But finally, he swallowed before tentatively nodding his head. “O-okay.”
I closed my eyes, feeling my lower lip quiver as I tried to find my footing on this conversation. After taking a shaky breath, I finally found my voice. “I can’t do this anymore, Chris.” Immediately, my attempt at getting all my tears out of the way earlier proved to be a failure; because as soon as the heavy words left my mouth I broke down into sobs.
Over my crying, I heard Chris’ disbelieving voice. “What do you mean you’re done with this? With what? Me?” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, clearly being hit with the same emotions that I was. I stayed silent — my eyes screwed shut as I wrapped my arms around my torso; doing my best to comfort myself. “Y/n, please tell me what you’re talking about.” He pleaded, and I felt him scoot closer to me on the bed; placing a hesitant hand on my knee.
After catching my breath, I wiped my tears away and opened my eyes to find his frantically searching my face like an uncertain creature. “I know you’re going through something right now,” My voice was coming out nearly silent, but I continued, “And I tried so hard to be there for you, I really did Chris. But you won’t talk to me! Instead, you’ve been taking out all of your frustrations on me and treating me like absolute shit. Do you really think that’s okay?” I fought the lump in my throat as I got my words out, his shattered face no help in that department. Frantically, Chris shook his head. “No. No, it’s not okay, baby, and I’m really sorry. But please, please don’t do this.” His tone tugged at my heart strings as his desperation grew more and more transparent.
Shaking my head and closing my eyes, I shut him down. “Can you tell me why you’ve been acting the way you have?” I knew my question was pointless before I even asked it, but his silence confirmed it. Releasing an ironic chuckle, I continued. “I promised myself that I would never let another man treat me badly. I’ve put up with it far too many times, and no matter how much I love you, Chris, I can’t allow you to speak to me the way you have been lately.”
I opened my eyes and felt my heart sink at his ghostly expression, clearly on the verge of losing his shit. I brought a hand up to his cheek and stroked it for a moment, and as I did he closed his eyes and let a few tears fall. “I want you to get better, I really do. But I clearly can’t help you, so you need to do it on your own.” My own words felt like a stab in the chest, and I couldn’t help the tears as they streamed down my face. “Come to me when you’ve worked through your shit, and we can see if we can repair things. But for now, I need you to leave.”
At that, Chris’ eyes shot open in a panic and he immediately grabbed onto my leg. “No, Y/n, please. Don’t do this.” I turned my head away from him as his desperation became too much to bear. His hands traveled across my body in anguish, clearly losing all control of his emotions as the reality of our situation began to set in for him. His body slid off of the bed as he dissolved into tears against my comforter. Still having the instinct to comfort him, I scooted towards the edge of the bed, where I let my legs stretch out beside him as I ran my hands through his beautiful curls.
“Please, please baby, I swear to god I can’t do this shit without you.” He wretchedly pleaded with me, clutching my leg and trailing distressed kisses along it. I looked up at the sky, too pained by the scene that was playing out in front of me. “Chris, please, I need you to go.” I begged him, needing to put him out of his misery so that I could hurt in private. He maintained his grasp on my leg, sobbing inconsolably against it. I gave him a moment, in which he slowly began to regain control of his emotions. I watched as his sobbing grew quieter and his breathing slowed, before finally watching as he pulled himself up to his feet; the weight of our conversation evident in the way he held himself weakly.
He glanced down at me quickly, his blue eyes red and puffy, before turning away in what looked like shame. In utter silence, he turned and began walking slowly in the direction of my bedroom door. With his hand on the door knob, he paused for a moment. “I’m sorry.” His words were so quiet I could have easily missed them, but the sincerity cut through my heart like a knife. That sincerity hadn’t been present in any of the other apologies he gave me, and I was gutted that it appeared too late.
And then just like that, he was gone. I felt all the air leave my chest at the realization of what I had just done, and let my body fall back against my bed as tears once again poured down my cheeks. I couldn’t help but immediately question whether or not I had done the right thing. Was I a horrible person for abandoning the man I loved when he was so clearly dealing with something? Did I allow my fears of repeating my past distort my current reality? Were the things he said to me really that bad?
I was pulled out of my tormenting thoughts by a soft voice coming from my doorway.
“My meeting today wasn’t about merch.”
That was all that he said. That was all it took for my heart to begin to beat for him again. One small hint of vulnerability. Feeling humiliated internally, I sat up on my elbows and found him hovering in the doorway. “Talk to me about it Chris.” I sounded exacerbated even to my own ears, feeling frustrated from all of the overwhelming emotions that the evening held. Tentatively, he walked over to the bed and sat beside me on the edge, arms resting on his knees. After clearing his throat, he began to explain. “The meeting today wasn’t about merch, it wasn’t really about anything to be honest.” Confused, I waited in silence for him to continue.
“A few weeks ago, Laura brought up the idea of going on another tour. A European tour.” He paused for a moment. “Nick and Matt immediately agreed and wanted to start planning everything so that we could do it this summer, but I said I didn’t want to do it.” I watched the back of his head, slightly shocked by his words since I knew that he had enjoyed the previous tours so much. “We would be overseas for a month, and I didn’t want to be so far away from you for that long. So I told them I didn’t wanna do it.” He took a deep breath. “Now, Matt and Nick are super pissed at me. They’ve both been giving me the silent treatment for weeks outside of the few times when they’ve just tore me a new one. And sure, we’ve all fought before, but never this bad. It’s been going on for so long, and I feel like I’ve lost sight of everything without having them be there for me.” His voice grew thick with emotion, and I fought the urge to cry along with him.
“Things have gotten so bad between us, that Laura forced us all to come in tonight to basically have a supervised argument. We sat there for hours, Y/n, just screaming at each other. And we got nowhere. I stood firm in what I wanted and so did they, so that’s why it went on for so long. And that’s also why I have been treating you like a complete dick lately. Because even though you had no clue what was going on, I think a part of me was kinda blaming you for all this shit. And I know that wasn’t fair, I really do. I just didn’t know how to tell you all of this because I’ve never been in a situation like this before.”
He turned to look at me, grabbing at my hand that was lying dormant in the space between us. “And I’m so, so sorry that I treated you the way I did. You didn’t deserve it. At all. But please baby, please don’t leave me. Because if you do, I will be completely lost. You are my anchor, and I need you to be there for me.” Tears rolled down my face as his voice cracked in desperation. “And I swear, baby, I won’t treat you like shit ever again. If you can’t believe me, and if you’re really truly done, I’ll understand. But please, Y/n, if there’s any part of you that believes me, please don’t leave.” He dropped his head into my lap, wrapping his arm around my waist and gripping onto my oversized t-shirt. Out of instinct, I brought my hand to his face and began stroking it softly; wiping away his tears as I did.
We stayed that way for a long time, both of us sniffling, heaving messes. I couldn’t lie, his honesty truly impacted me. I knew that he had to have gone against every single one of his instincts to finally tell me what had been going on in his life, and the fact that he did meant so much to me. I knew that Chris was extremely reliant on his brothers being a constant in his life, and couldn’t even imagine how lost he must feel knowing that they’re against him. His problem was much more severe than I thought it would have been prior to him opening up, and I felt an overwhelming amount of empathy for him. I knew that his poor treatment of me — as wrong as it was — had been completely out of character, and as I sat there stroking his soft cheek, I decided that I would believe him.
“Come up here.” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Immediately, Chris lifted his head off of my thighs and sat up, his face inches from mine. Without a moment of hesitation, I leaned forward and engulfed his lips with my own. He immediately reciprocated, and both of our tongues worked in unison to lap up the salty taste of each other’s tears. Chris leaned forward, encouraging me to fall back against my pillows as he continued his passionate assault on my lips. His mouth travelled down my neck, where I shuddered as I felt him place sucks and nibbles sure to leave a trail of purple bruises. His body was warm on top of mine, and I had never before felt so present with him; so aware of his every movement.
He moved down my body, stopping briefly at my chest to remove my shirt, before continuing down below my waist. With his tongue, he created a path from just below my belly button to my right hip bone, where he left another purple bruise; causing my skin to break out in goose bumps. Lifting my hips, he wasted no time in pulling my boy shorts off of my body and leaving me completely bare. He continued to leave gentle kisses along each square inch of my body surrounding my core, but making sure to leave the place where I needed his mouth the most completely untouched.
I began to grow impatient, my body temperature increasing as my body filled with arousal. As he placed a kiss on my inner thigh, I bucked my hips up in frustration; practically begging for contact. Noticing my agitation, Chris almost immediately obliged, and I gasped out in pleasure as his tongue began working its magic against my clit. With each hand holding up my thighs, Chris swirled his tongue relentlessly against my bundle of nerves. I struggled to keep my body still as his movements continued, and failed miserably once he inserted two of his fingers into my core. “Fuck Chris, t-that’s so good.” I moaned out as his tongue and fingers worked my cunt in harmony. The wet sounds of my arousal grew louder and louder as I began to approach my orgasm, and in reflex my hands tangled in his hair; doing everything I could to keep him exactly where I needed him.
“Gonna cum, baby.” I cried out, and his encouraging hum against my clit was enough to get me there. My back arched off of the bed as my body began to convulse. To keep me in place, Chris took his free hand and placed it firmly on my lower stomach; causing me to scream out in pleasure. His mouth and fingers continued to push me through my orgasm, and didn’t stop even after my nerves became over sensitive. “C-Chris please. Can’t take anymore.” I struggled to get out the words, but he listened. Detaching his mouth from my core, he dragged his body back up my own and came face to face with me.
With the glean of my arousal still on his lips, he kissed me so deep I felt my lungs inflate. I could taste myself on his tongue, and my eyes nearly rolled to the back of my head from the intensity of the moment. I broke the kiss for only a moment to pull his hoodie over his head; relishing in the feeling of his bare chest against my own. Through his sweatpants, I could feel his bulging member press against my pelvis, and I reached in between our bodies and pulled his waistband down along with his boxers. Now completely free, his cock dribbled pre-cum down my stomach. With my hand still between us, I collected what was left of his fluid along his slit before slowly stroking my hand up and down his swollen shaft.
His breath hitched as I continued my movements, and he thoughtlessly bucked his hips into my hand to increase the friction along his trembling member. My hand twisted around his dick for a few more pumps, before I slowly guided it down toward my entrance. Once Chris felt the heat of my core at the tip of his cock, he looked down at me with darkened eyes — still slightly puffy from his previous tears — and dropped his jaw as he began to slide into me.
I gasped at the feeling of my walls stretching around his sizeable girth, and released a breathy moan as he bottomed out. Laying on top of me, he grabbed both sides of my face in between his hands and held it firmly as he began thrusting into me. His eyes never left mine as his hips rolled into me, and I watched in ecstasy at the pleasure visible on his face — as I’m sure he was doing to me. Our bodies smacked together in a steady rhythm and the wet sounds filled the room, adding an additional sensation to my arousal.
“I-I’m so sorry, baby.” Grunted Chris through deep thrusts. “It’s — oh fuck — it’s okay Chris.” I replied as I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Just please — please tell me you’re mine.” His voice sounded desperate and choppy, most likely caused by a combination of arousal and real distress. His choice of words and the tone at which he said them caused my stomach to do a flip, and I felt my second orgasm approach. Fighting the urge to give into the overwhelming feeling, I reached up and swiped his glistening lip with my thumb. “I’m yours baby, always.” I managed to respond through my cries of pleasure. Chris smiled down at me lazily before burying his face in my neck; leaving sloppy, breathy kisses along its thin skin.
My walls began to pulse and my skin started to feel like it was being lit on fire; both clear signs that I was extremely overstimulated as I was approaching my orgasm. “Shit, gonna cum again.” I blurted out just as I was hit with a tsunami of an orgasm. My legs tightened around his waist and my nails dug into his arms as I fought to keep my head above water, but my mind grew fuzzy as I spewed guttural profanities into the room as I came in waves.
It didn’t take long for Chris’ orgasm to follow, and that was made clear by his throaty grunts and sloppy pace before he stopped entirely; shouting breathless 'I love yous' into my neck as his cock shot its warm fluid deep inside of me. He eventually pulled out, before curling two fingers into me and shoving all of our conjoined juices up to my cervix. His eyes stayed glued to my cunt as he did so, seemingly in awe of the view.
“You’re all mine, and I’m all yours.” He said it so quiet that he might have just been saying it to himself, before he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on the crest of my heat; earning a full-body flinch from me.
He came back up to the top of the bed where he laid down beside me, pulling me towards his chest and running a hand up and down my naked back. I felt so secure in his arms — his familiar smell filling my nostrils and calming my mind — that I nearly forgot everything that had happened prior to the past 15 minutes or so. That is, until he spoke.
“So, are we okay?” His voice was tentative, and he was very clearly afraid to hear my answer. I uncurled myself from his body so that I could look up at his lovely face, his desperate eyes scanning my poker face for any sort of hint.
“You will never, ever, speak to me like that again, no matter what.” I kept my voice firm, even when his face immediately relaxed into a grin. “I swear, I won’t baby.” He responded, trying to tuck me back into his chest, but I pushed back slightly. “And, I need you to talk to me about shit you’re going through, Chris. I’m your girlfriend. That’s my job. You need to promise me, you will come to me about anything, and I will do everything I can to help you through it.” He continued to gaze at me, though his wavering eyes and his chewing on his lower lip made it clear that the idea made him anxious. “Promise me, Chris.” I repeated, making it clear how serious I was.
Finally, Chris nodded his head. “I promise, baby. I’ll tell you everything.” I smiled, then, finally feeling secure in our relationship for the first time in weeks. “Then yes, we’re okay.” I responded before planting a soft kiss to his pink lips. “And you and your brothers are going to be okay, too.” His worried expression deepened at the reminder of his conflict with Nick and Matt. “We’ll talk about it more tomorrow once we get some rest, but we can make the tour work. You know, I’ve always wanted to visit Europe.” I watched as his lips began to turn up into a soft smile. “Plus,” I leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “I wouldn’t mind being your groupie.”
He dissolved into giggles at that. “But what about your job?” He asked tentatively. I shrugged. “I actually got promoted today. I was gonna tell you earlier, but y’know.” His face fell momentarily. “I got a raise, but more importantly I got more benefits. Including thirty vacation days.” His face lit up once again, and it was almost like I could see the weight lift off of his shoulders before he attacked my face with kisses. “So let’s have another meeting with Laura and your brothers tomorrow and work this all out. I can come, and we can fix this easily together.” Tears welled in his eyes, and he nodded his head before kissing me hard. “I love you, Y/n.”
I curled myself back into his chest and sighed, taking in the feeling of him mindlessly drawing random shapes on my back. This was the Chris that I knew and loved, and I knew that this is who he really was. He wasn’t perfect, but I never expected him to be. Problems come with every relationship, and of course there was never any guarantee, but I had a feeling that this night would vastly change our relationship for the better.
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo fluff
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm really sorry to request this for sleeping with the enemy but I'm a sucker for angsty fics.
But what about their first fight as a couple? Maybe they're fighting over a stupid thing and they are both petty and don't want the other person to be right?
(or they have makeup sex and everything turns out fine lol)
OMG I LOVE IT SO MUCH. DON’T BE SORRY. angst will always be my fav 🙂↕️ (the length of this blurb is proof)
they got into arguments as friends but as a couple, they get way more emotional. they’re both confrontational and stubborn and have commitment issues that come out in different ways so it gets ugly 🫣
based on this fic
they’ve been official for almost a month now. as friends, their arguments were silly and usually short-lived, but this fight is nothing like those.
it was a saturday night at a house party on rafe’s college campus. they split off at one point in the night and when she went searching for him, she found him in the backyard, standing with a group of guys she hadn’t seen before.
the smell of weed hit her instantly. panic set in. if he gets caught doing drugs, his future is shot. one random drug test and he’ll be kicked off the team.
she approached him, resting her hand on his bicep, and said to him quietly but sternly, “what are you doing?”
rafe was drunk but caught the sharpness of her tone, looking down at her with a scowl.
“what’s with the attitude?” he muttered.
“are you serious? you can’t smoke. don’t be stupid about this.”
one of his friends overheard, letting out a dramatic hoot as he held a lit joint to his lips, clearly taunting rafe for being scolded.
“just go back inside,” rafe snapped.
his buddies jeered, chuckles scattering over the group.
“what?” she said.
he wriggled out of her grip, looking away from her. she huffed in disbelief before storming off, anger rushing through her.
it’s tuesday afternoon and they still haven’t spoken. all over a ten-second conversation. it’s how their arguments would always go as friends. both of them get mad, fast, then don’t talk for a few days.
but this is different. it hurts way more.
rafe went looking for her at the party later on and realized she left. he was her ride there so he called her a few times, worried about how she was getting back.
when she didn’t answer, he texted her: at least tell me you got home. she replied: home.
now, she’s sitting at a cafe on her campus, working on a paper. she opens their text conversation a few times a day, hoping maybe she just missed a notification from him. but all she sees is their last bitter exchange.
and even though she’s pissed beyond belief that he disrespected her, she’s following his home game today. she watches every game she can.
it’s been a close one for three quarters now. she has the stream playing, taking up half of her laptop screen. when the fourth quarter starts, she watches rafe continue to dominate the court.
but her stomach drops when she sees him fall after a collision with another player. because he doesn’t get up.
she makes the stream fullscreen, watching with wide eyes. he limps off the court. he doesn’t come back out for the rest of the game. her heart is twisted in a knot.
even though she’s angry and hurt that he hasn’t looked past his pride and called or texted, she already knows that she’s going to go over to his place later to check up on him.
it’s almost sunset when rafe parks his car, her campus blanketed in a warm orange glow. the past few days have been hell. now his ankle is throbbing in pain. and he still hasn’t talked to his girl.
he hates this. the way he’s always the first to make contact after an argument. it makes him feel like he has no backbone. he should stay mad at her. she assumed the worst. embarrassed him. she should be running after him.
he’s parked in front of her dorm building. he pulls out his phone and stares at his call history for a moment before tapping her name.
it rings a couple times. then he hears her voice.
“hello?”
“come downstairs,” he says sternly. “i’m in front of your building.”
she pauses before she answers.
“i’m not home. i’m at your house,” she tells him. “i just got here. liam told me you went out. you should be resting.”
rafe rakes his hand through his hair. even though their tones are terse, his stomach flips knowing that she probably still watched his game today. that she came over to see him after his injury. she sounds worried.
“stay there,” he says.
she hangs up, looking at liam from her spot on the house’s front step.
“i’ll just wait in his room,” she says. rafe’s teammate nods and steps aside so she can come in. after she asked him if rafe was home, her next question was what happened.
apparently, he sprained his ankle. she’s glad it’s not as bad as she imagined.
as she climbs up the stairs, liam calls her name.
“not my business,” he says when she turns to look at him, “but please figure this shit out. he’s been extra bitchy lately.”
she chuckles despite herself.
“did he tell you what happened?” she asks.
“no. he just keeps sulking. a bunch of us tried to get him to talk about it, but we got told to fuck off,” liam says with an indifferent shrug.
“i’ve never seen him like this, so i hope you guys fix whatever’s wrong. i know he can be…” he doesn’t find the right word. “but i can tell he really likes you. for what it’s worth.”
“thanks,” she says.
when rafe enters his room and sees her sitting in his desk chair, his body goes warm with a mixture of anger and longing. he missed her. looking at her. hearing her voice.
“you went to my dorm?” she asks.
he shuts the door behind him, leaving his keys and phone on his nightstand before sitting on his bed.
“yeah,” he says flatly. “to talk.”
he almost says something about how of course he’s the one who reached out first to try to mend things, but she must’ve come over with that same intention. or maybe not. maybe she came over to break up with him.
her eyes dart down to his ankle, her face crumpling with sadness.
“liam told me it’s a sprain. how bad is it?” she asks.
“bad,” rafe says, mostly so she’ll feel bad for him. when he sees her frown, he realizes it worked, and then he feels rotten for trying to manipulate her.
she has that effect on him. she makes him want to be a better person. he doesn’t want to be manipulative or cruel or angry. not with her.
“it’ll heal in a few days,” he adds to ease her worry. “i’m good. it’s nothing.”
“okay,” she says, clearly relieved. “i brought some ibuprofen in case you don’t have any.”
“why?” he says, still on edge.
“i’m still gonna worry about you. no matter how much you hurt me.”
she looks down as she rifles through her bag, pulling out the pill bottle and tossing it on his mattress.
“i hurt you?” he mutters, his tone sharp. “you think this is on me?”
“are you for real?” she matches his intensity immediately, her voice going louder. “you basically told me to get lost in front of your friends. they laughed at me.”
“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” he scoffs with a pissed off, disbelieving smile. what she did was way worse.
“do you have any idea how humilating that was?” she snaps. rafe stares at her with a tight jaw. “i was worried. they do random drug tests all the time. what if they found it in your system? and you fucked up your future just because you wanted to get high at a random party?”
“you think i need you to do that for me?” he shouts. “think back. did you see me smoking? did i look high?”
“you were standing in a circle of guys who were passing a joint around,” she says. “it’s not crazy of me to assume.”
he shakes his head and scoffs.
“rafe,” she says evenly. “you disappeared. you looked like you were on something. i got freaked out.”
“and then called me stupid.”
“i didn’t call you stupid,” she counters. but she knows her argument is flimsy. her impulsive words were harsh. telling him don’t be stupid was basically calling him stupid.
“oh, my god,” he mutters angrily. he stands up, hands on his hips as he paces over to the door and back to the bed, trying to cool down, even on his sore ankle. “imagine i came up to you like that in front of your friends. you’d lose your shit way worse than i did.”
“please sit down,” she says. “you need to keep your weight off your foot.”
he doesn’t listen.
“i didn’t find you to fight with you that night,” she continues. she takes a deep breath, anger rushing through her veins. “i was just worried. and then you were mean to me, saying something about my attitude-”
“yeah, because you came over with a stick up your ass,” he says. “it was so embarrassing that you talked to me like that in front of people.”
“what, because i’m a girl?” she scoffs.
“because you’re my girl,” he snaps.
she stills, staring at him as he stands in the middle of his room. a few moments of tense silence sink between them.
“i had a few drinks,” he says. “that was all. i know about the drug tests. i’m not an idiot. i’ve been playing since freshman year. i was hanging out with some guys i know from one of my classes. they were smoking. i wasn’t. that was it.”
she lets his words wash over her.
“please sit down,” she finally says again, tears pricking her eyes. “please. i don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
she sniffles. he gives in and sits back down, elbows on his knees as he sits hunched over.
rafe swallows the lump in his throat, his gaze on the floor. he’s not used to someone caring about him this much. he’s always only had himself. even when he’s yelling at her, she’s pleading for him to rest.
he hates the feeling of being told what to do. but when it comes from her, it’s because she gives a shit. and that makes it feel almost okay.
“i’m sorry,” she says, her tone wobbly. “i shouldn’t have used that word. i shouldn’t have embarrassed you. i don’t think you’re stupid. i just hated the thought of you losing everything you’ve worked so hard for.”
she sighs shakily.
“but when you talked to me like that…” she says. “it made me feel so… small. they were laughing at me and you weren’t on my side. it reminded me of how those idiots started treating me after we started seeing each other.”
rafe’s lips twist tightly. so many of the guys on the team she cheers for and even some of the girls on her squad started alienating her, treating her like she was a traitor just for hanging out with rafe.
he knows how much that messed with her head. then the person she went through all that for embarrassed her in front of some guys who don’t even matter.
finally, his gaze meets hers. her stomach sinks once she sees that his eyes are glossy. she’s never seen him cry. he’s this affected? she thought he was just mad at her for being a bitch to him in front of his buddies.
“you told me before,” he mutters, “that you expect every relationship to crash and burn. you expect the worst from every guy you date.”
she blinks back tears. she did tell him that, word for word, back when they were just friends. it was a moment of drunken vulnerability when she was talking about how every man she’d ever been with just let her down. she didn’t think he’d remember it. that he’d apply it to himself.
“it was like you made your mind up,” he says. “you were already sure i was hiding something from you, already fucking something up.”
her forehead crinkles. she didn’t think that he’d see it like that.
“listen, i…” rafe exhales slowly. his anger has almost completely dissolved now that she actually apologized. now that she said it, he feels like he doesn’t deserve the sorry. she was just looking out for him. “i’m sorry, too. i was an asshole.”
she bites her lip. he doesn’t say more. she waits. and waits. and waits. but that’s his entire apology.
“okay,” she finally says, unsure of how to resolve this. she’s still carrying the weight of pain he caused her. he doesn’t seem to get how badly he hurt her.
“okay what?” he asks. his mind is racing. “okay like, this is over? you’re done?”
“no,” she says, her brows furrowing.
rafe looks miserable, sorrow etched into his features, and even though she’s still hurting, still mad at him, she seals the distance between them, moving to settle on the bed across from him.
“you know how shitty these past few days have been?” he says. “hoping you’ll text me but at the same time, hoping you won’t because what if the message says you want to go back to being friends? or just never want to see me again at all?”
the ache in her heart doubles.
“it didn’t cross my mind once to break up with you,” she says.
“really?” rafe meets her eyes again. he looks genuinely shocked by her words. she had no idea he was so afraid of being left. so sure that she’d give up on him so quickly.
“of course,” she whispers.
the tension in rafe’s chest slowly loosens from her reassurance. he comes closer, his guard crumbling. her hand is on his knee. he puts his hand over hers.
“this has been rough on me, too,” she says, sniffling. “i kept waiting for you to call. i hated that you brushed me off like that. and now it’s like you don’t even get how much you hurt me.”
this is a punch to his gut. but he deserves it.
“i was pissed. i wasn’t thinking straight,” he says. “and i… i called that night, remember? like five times. you only texted me that you were home and you never called back.”
her breath shakes again. he didn’t do enough. he can see that now.
“i should’ve kept calling,” he says. “i’m sorry, baby. i am. you were just looking out for me. i fucked up.”
his words make her anger lose its sharpness.
“so did i. i don’t expect the worst from you,” she mumbles. “i know how hard you work. i know you’re serious about basketball. i just… panicked.”
rafe needs to kiss her, to have the tangible evidence that she still wants him as bad as he wants her.
he leans forward, giving her the softest kiss he’s ever given her. he doesn’t have it in him to pull back. not when he’s missed her so bad that it hurts.
he gently presses his palm against the back of her neck, guiding her to nuzzle into him. he kisses the top of her head as she rests her cheek on his shoulder.
“i miss you so goddamn much,” he admits. “you have no idea how much i think about you.”
he feels her nod against him.
“me, too.”
“i’m sorry, okay?” rafe says.
“me, too,” she echoes.
they stay like that, curled into each other, hearts starting to beat in unison again.
as she breathes rafe’s scent, a warmth that she’s committed to memory now, she realizes they’re carrying more baggage than she would’ve expected.
maybe she does assume he’ll lie to her and disappoint her. it must be a knee-jerk reaction after so many failed relationships.
and he clearly has a fear of being left. he looked like he didn’t even believe her when she told him she wasn’t considering breaking up with him. maybe he never let anyone in before because he was sure they’d eventually bail on him.
but she knew they were both stubborn. both explosive. both their own version of damaged. it took three days and a long, tense argument to get here, touching again.
beneath the ache they share, she has hope. they came to each other to resolve this. this was their first fight as a couple and they made it out to the other end.
it might be hard sometimes. but as she feels his arms encircle her, heavy and warm and comforting, she knows it’s worth it. he’s worth it.
she lets out another shaky breath and he kisses the top of her head again. he can’t lose her. he won’t survive it if he does.
#ask#swteblurb#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron and you#rafe cameron and reader#rafe cameron and y/n
656 notes
·
View notes
Text
RECKLESS
a/n: requests are open!
jude bellingham x gf!readerfootballer
warnings: it´s suuuper long, a bit angsty and the reader has CIPA.
summary: the mix of your clumsiness, your condition and your stubbornness are driving your boyfriend, Jude crazy. After a serious injury during a match, tensions flare as his protectiveness clashes with your determination.
It was a typical day at the training ground for Jude Bellingham. The buzz of excitement around Real Madrid´s latest match win lingered in the air as the team went through their drills, but his mind wasn´t entirely focused. It was elsewhere, back home, with you.
You were supposed to meet him after yours and his training, and like always, Jude couldn´t wait. Ever since you two had started dating, he´d always found himself thinking about you during the most mundane moments of his day—how you´d smile when he´d joke about anything, the way your eyes lit up when he spoke about his passions, and even when you´d roll your eyes whenever he playfully teased you.
But lately, something else had been on his mind.
"Hey, Bellingham, you alright?" Brahim´s voice pulled him back to reality. He shook shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts away.
"Yeah, yeah. Just... thinking."
Luka, who was near them, raised an eyebrow, and Brahim decided not to press any further. Everyone on the team had noticed that Jude had been a little off for the past few weeks. It wasn´t something major, but subtle things—he´d had a hard time until he focused, and he´d be constantly glancing at his phone, as if waiting for some sort of update. The captain had learned not to pry too much, but as they jogged off the field, Luka gave him a pat on the back.
Jude sighed. He knew exactly why he couldn´t get you off his mind. It was the bruises.
At first, he thought it was just a few clumsy accidents. You always were the type to bump into things—doorframes, tables, chairs that you´d swear hadn´t been there a minute ago... It was endearing in a way, your natural clumsiness, but it also terrified him.
The extent of the bruises, wounds, or sometimes cuts, were usually too significant for you to ignore. At first you joked around, really thinking you had some sort of “superpower or superstrength” because you didn’t even realize it or feel pain, but one day, after cutting yourself trying to cook, you both realized that you didn’t feel anything at all.
Jude insisted you go to the doctor. There, you were given a diagnosis that, coupled with your natural clumsiness, had your boyfriend worried sick the whole time.
The thing about you was that you didn´t just bruised easily—you never felt the ache. You had CIPA, which was a rare condition where you couldn´t feel physical pain, no matter how severe the injury. You could trip, fall, even break a bone, and you wouldn´t even flinch. And while you took it in stride, laughing it off most of the time, Jude wasn´t so easily comforted.
He remembered the first he´d recognized the severity of it. You had shown up to his place with a bruise the size of an apple on your thigh and hadn´t even realized it was there until he pointed it out.
"Babe, it´s just a bruise," you´d said, laughing it off.
"You really don´t feel that? It looks bad," Jude had pressed, his voice laced with worry.
"Nope," you had replied with a shrug. "Perks of the condition, I guess."
But Jude didn´t see it as a perk. He saw it as dangerous. What if something worse happened and you didn´t even know? What if you hurt yourself badly, and by the time someone noticed, it was too late?
And now, it seemed like every time he saw you, there was a new injury. Sometimes on your arms, other times on your knees, and you always had the explanation: "I just bumped into something, no big deal."
However, he wouldn't calm down until he saw you and made sure you hadn't crashed into a table that day.
That afternoon, as training wrapped up, Jude´s phone buzzed with a text from you: "See you in 30 at your place?" He smiled at the message but quickly sobered when he imagined what new mark he might see today.
When you arrived at his apartment, you were greeted with his warm embrace and a kiss on the forehead. But as soon as he pulled back, his eyes darted to your body, scanning you.
"What´s this?" he asked, gently running his fingers over the small purple bruise on your elbow.
You sighed, recognizing the tone in his voice. "Jude, it´s nothing. I just bumped into a cabinet this morning. You know how I am."
"Yeah, but... babe, you´re covered in scratches, bruises and cuts all the time," he said, frustration creeping into his voice. "You can´t keep brushing it off like this."
"I have to brush it off because it´s not a big deal," you said, pulling your arm away from his touch. "I don´t feel it. It´s just part of living with CIPA."
Jude´s jaw tightened. "But you can´t feel when something´s wrong. That´s what scares me."
"I´m careful!" you protested, though you knew deep down that that wasn´t entirely true. You tried to be careful, but your clumsiness combined with your condition meant accidents were inevitable. Still, Jude´s constant worrying was starting to wear on you. "You´re always hovering, Jude. Lately, I can´t even walk around without you asking me if I´m okay."
"Because I care about you," he said, his voice rising with exasperation. "Do you know how hard it is to watch the person you love get hurt and not even realize it?"
Your chest tightened. You hated seeing him like this, but you also hated being treated like you were fragile. "Jude, I´m not made of glass."
"No, but you could seriously hurt youself, and you wouldn´t even know it!"
You crossed your arms, frustration bubbling up inside you. "I don´t need you to baby me. I´m fine. I´ve been living with this my whole life. Just because I now have a diagnosis doesn't mean I'm suddenly unable to take care of myself."
But Jude wasn´t letting it go. "You say that, but every time I see you, there´s something new. What if one day it´s not just a bruise, huh? What if you break something and don´t notice? Or worse?"
"I would notice, Jude!" you shot back, your voice cracking slightly. "I´m not reckless."
He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room. "You don´t get it. I see these marks, and it just... it scares me. It makes me think I´m not doing enough to protect you."
Your heart should´ve softened a bit at that, but the weight of his protectiveness was beginning to feel like a cage. "I don´t need protecting, Jude. I need you to trust that I can handle myself."
He stopped pacing and looked at you, his eyes pleading. "You can´t."
For the next few days, the tension between the two of you hung in the air, and in an attemp to ease Jude´s worries, you started hiding the bruises. You wore long sleeves, pulled your socks up higher to cover the marks on your legs, concealer for the more noticeable spots, and became more concious about how you presented yourself around him. It wasn´t like you were trying to lie to Jude; you just wanted to avoid another argument. You thought it was working. That things were getting better.
That was until an incident during your training. The match was near and you´d been pushing yourself hard, trying to keep up with your personal goals, when you took a bad fall. Of course you didn´t even realize anything was wrong until one of your teammates pointed out later in the changing room.
You had look at it, but decided that it wasn’t that bad to take care of, and now you were cooking dinner to surprise your boyfriend after his own training session.
He´d walked in, tired but smiling, and wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"Smells amazing," he murmured.
You smiled, leaning into his warmth. "Just wait until you taste it."
But when his hands brushed against your sides, he froze, his fingers suddendly stopped tickling your skin and felt tense.
"Y/N..." His voice was sharp, and you knew immediately what was coming.
"What?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light as you stirred the pot in front of you.
He pulled back just enough to spin you around to face him, his hands sliding under your shirt to reveal the large scratch and bruise on your ribs. It was deep purple, spreading across your side.
"What the hell is this?" he demanded, his tone a mixture of anger and fear.
You winced—not from pain, but from the look on his face. You hadn´t even realized the bruise was that bad.
"I...I fell during training," you stammered. "It´s fine, Jude, it´s not a big deal."
"Not a big deal?" His voice rose, panic edging into it. "This is exactly what I´ve been talking about! You didn´t even notice!"
"Because it doesn´t hurt!" you argued, frustration creeping up your skin. "Jude, I can´t help it. I don´t feel pain like you do. I´m not going to feel every little thing."
"That's the—," he began, trying to calm himself down so he wouldn't scream, but that didn´t work. "That's the problem!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the kitchen walls. "You don´t feel it, and you´re not being careful, you keep getting hurt. And I can´t keep watching you like this, wondering if one day it´ll be worse than a bruise or a scrape."
"Stop!" you shouted back, your patience snapping. "You treat me like I´m going to break!"
For a moment, the only sound in the room was both of your breathing heavily, staring at each other. His eyes were wild with anger, and you felt the weight of his words hanging heavy between you.
But deep down, you knew he was right. You weren't taking care of yourself, and you had been lucky that you hadn't been severely hurt yet. You thought about him being freshly injured every day, and your heart sank.
"I’m sorry," you admitted. "You’re right."
He looked at you with an expression that was a mix of worry and frustration. He was angry and most likely needed some time to cool down. "You can't keep going like this. You have to prioritize yourself or I think I'll go crazy."
You watched him, a mix of gratitude and defiance swirling inside you. Clearly, Jude meant well, but the thought of listening to him felt like a loss of control over your own autonomy. You took a deep breath, pushing aside the surge of vulnerability. “I’m fine,” you said firmly, holding his gaze. “I need you to trust me.” And with that, you turned slightly and continued with dinner.
The next day, the sun was high, casting its warmth across the Real Madrid Femenino stadium as you laced up your boots in the locker room. Game day always came with a rush of excitement, and you thrived in the electric atmosphere that football brought to your life. As a midfielder for Real Madrid’s women’s team, you were used to the pressure, the intensity, and the speed of the game. It was your passion, and nothing could keep you off that pitch.
Jude had been to countless matches of yours before, watching from the stands with pride. Today was no different. He had been in the crowd since the warm-up, watching your every move, but he was already tense. After your constants discussions he watched with a little bit of worry, but you were good at compartmentalizing your life on the pitch. Here, you were a footballer. The rest? That could wait until after the final whistle.
When the whistle blew to start the game, you felt the familiar surge of adrenaline as the ball moved fluidly between your teammates. Everything was going smoothly until about the 70th minute, when the pace of the game shifted. The opposing team was down by a goal, and they were getting desperate, pushing harder and playing rough.
It happened in an instant.
One moment, you were chasing down a loose ball, and the next, a defender from the opposing team came charging in too hard. You didn’t see her until it was too late. Her cleats collided with your leg, sending you sprawling onto the pitch. The impact was brutal, your body twisting awkwardly as you hit the ground. Blood immediately pooled from a deep gash along your shin, staining the grass beneath you.
But as always, you felt nothing. No pain. Just the rush of confusion and the startled gasps from the crowd.
Jude was already standing in the stands, his heart pounding in his chest as he saw you lying on the ground, bleeding from your wound. He started to complain as the rest of the stands, filled with family members of your teammates that yelled as well. He felt his throat close up, helpless as he watched the medical team rush onto the field.
The referee blew the whistle to stop the game, and the medics were quick to assess the damage. But, of course, you were already pushing yourself up, brushing them off with a wave of your hand.
“I’m fine! I can keep playing,” you insisted, trying to shake them away.
One of the medics, a woman with furrowed brows and a calm but firm tone, knelt beside you. “Y/N, you’re bleeding. We need to take you off the pitch.”
But you were stubborn, standing up fully now, albeit wobbling slightly. “I’m fine. Let me keep playing. We only have 20 minutes left.”
Misa Rodríguez, your captain, approached, looking at you with a mixture of concern and disbelief. “You’re injured. Go inside, don´t worry, we got this.”
“I’m telling you, I’m fine!” you argued, frustration bubbling up inside you. You didn’t feel the pain, you didn’t feel anything, and you didn’t see the point in leaving the match. Your team needed you.
The referee shook his head. “You’re coming off. That’s final.”
You couldn’t help it—the anger got the better of you. “This is ridiculous! I can play! I’m not even in pain!”
It was then when the referee pulled out a red card, holding it up in your direction. The public gasped, and you stood there, stunned. You couldn’t believe it. You were being sent off—not for your injury, but for arguing.
The medical staff moved in quickly after that, no longer asking for your permission. They carried you off the pitch as you continued to protest, and the frustration burned in your chest.
Jude had been pacing for what felt like hours. As soon as he saw you bleeding, he’d practically jumped out of his seat, his anxiety skyrocketing. He knew how stubborn you were, how you didn’t feel pain, but this? This was something else. It was as if the last few weeks and the fights hadn’t meant anything. You weren’t just clumsy and stubborn anymore; you were downright masochistic and irresponsible. Jude was going out of his mind trying to think of the first thing to say, crossing his fingers that the impact wouldn’t be as strong as it seemed. He was really pissed off.
The second they took you into the medical room, he’d rushed down from the stands, demanding to know what was happening, practically climbing the walls of the stadium with worry. He didn’t care that the game was still going on, didn’t care about anything except getting to you.
When he finally found you in the medical room, sitting on the exam table with a bandage wrapped around your leg, he felt a mixture of relief and frustration flood through him.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Jude practically burst through the door, his voice sharp with panic.
You looked up, startled by the intensity in his voice. “Don´t worry. It’s just a cut.” And you tried to smile, maybe that could calm him down.
“A cut?” he echoed, his voice rising. “You were bleeding all over the pitch, Y/N! And you wanted to keep playing?”
You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to stay steady, but his frustration was starting to grate on you. “I didn’t feel it, okay? I wasn’t in pain. I could’ve finished the game.”
Jude ran a hand through his hair, pacing the small room. “What? Are you serious right now?”
You sunk in the stretcher. “Jude, I’m a footballer. Injuries happen. It’s part of the game.”
He stopped pacing and turned to face you, his eyes full of desperation. He was going to say something, but before that, you interrupted him.
Your chest tightened at his eyes. But still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was overreacting. “I get it, Jude, I do. But you can’t keep freaking out every time something happens to me. I know my limits.”
“Do you?” Jude shot back, his voice harsh. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. You’re so focused on proving that you’re fine that you don’t realize how dangerous this is. You should have stopped the game. You should’ve let them take care of you, but instead, you’re arguing with the ref like it’s nothing! Every single footballer knows that when blood is spilled, they should go to be taken care of.”
You stood up, despite the medics telling you to sit down. “Jude, I can handle myself!” you insisted, your voice rising above the chaos of the field outside.
“Handling yourself doesn’t mean ignoring common sense,” he shot back, frustration lacing his words. "You’re not invincible. You’ve got to understand that. I love you, I can´t keep seeing you injured. I can´t. Please, Y/N."
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. For a moment, you were silent, staring at him, trying to find the right response. You’d always been independent, ever since your diagnosis you had brushed off your condition as something you could manage on your own. But Jude wasn’t just worried for the sake of it—he was scared. Scared of losing you, of seeing you hurt without being able to do anything about it.
“I...” you started, but the words caught in your throat. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”
Jude stepped closer, his voice softening slightly, though the worry still lingered. “I know you want to keep playing, and I know you’re strong. But you can’t keep acting like you’re invincible. If you keep being reckless, something might happen and that terrifies me.”
You lowered your gaze, feeling the weight of his words. “I’m sorry,” you finally said, your voice quieter now. “I just... I didn’t want to scare you. I love you.”
Jude sighed, stepping forward to gently cup your face in his hands, his thumb brushing your cheek. “I love you too. I need you to be safe.”
You nodded, feeling the tension between you finally begin to ease. “I’ll try to be more careful. I promise.”
Jude pressed a kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Thank you." He kissed you again. "Now, let´s get this healed."
#jude bellingham#jude bellingham fluff#jude bellingham angst#jude bellingham imagines#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham comfort#jude bellingham fanfic#jb5#hey jude#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham x reader#jude victor willliam bellingham#jude bellingham x you#judeswifey#rmcf#bellingham#jude victor william bellingham#rma#bellingham x reader#real madrid#football imagine
169 notes
·
View notes
Note
Omg can we get a part 2 of rodeo please? I can't do too much angst but it was so good
Rodeo - part 2 | [A.H]
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader
CW: starts in 3. person pov and switches to 2. person pov half way through, emotional distress, guilt and regret, unhealthy relationship dynamics, emotional confrontation, mentions of past emotional manipulation.
WC: 2,1k
Here's part 1 of the fic
I really wanted to make this even more angsty than the last part and with no sense of comfort at all, cause I really wanted to be a giant asshole to Hotch for no reason. But..... I'm a little nice today, so I made an open ending with a teeny tiny piece of hope for you guys
The office felt different without her.
Hotch’s desk was covered with neatly stacked files, reports waiting to be signed off, and yet, none of it mattered. His eyes had skimmed the same paragraph in the report in front of him three times now, but the words didn’t sink in. His mind was somewhere else - always back to her. The gnawing ache in his chest that had been there since that night months ago hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had grown, spreading through him like a poison he couldn’t shake.
𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎.
It wasn’t just the space she used to occupy in the bullpen or the silence in the elevator where they used to stand shoulder to shoulder. It was deeper than that. The realization had crept up on him slowly at first - missing her laugh, the way she could sense his mood even when he didn’t speak, the small things she did that calmed him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed. But now, it consumed him.
The truth was, he missed her in ways he wasn’t sure he could even admit to himself.
He remembered how she had looked at him that night, her eyes filled with frustration and pain as they stood across from each other in the bullpen, the echoes of their argument still fresh in his mind. “I want something more.” Her voice had been shaky but determined, a mix of vulnerability and strength that struck him like a punch to the gut.
And what had he done? He’d pushed her away. His fear of letting her get too close, of her seeing the parts of him he kept hidden from everyone, had made him say things he regretted. Words he could never take back. “I told you from the beginning what this was,” he had said, his voice cold, and detached. A lie to protect himself.
He had let her walk away, convinced that it was for the best. But now, as the months dragged on, he realized how mistaken he had been.
The space she left behind was unbearable.
She wasn’t in the BAU anymore. He’d heard she’d been reassigned to another department within the FBI- something quieter, more predictable. He told himself it was better this way. She deserved a life outside the chaos of his world. But even though she wasn’t far, it felt like she was unreachable. The thought of running into her in the hallways, of seeing her around the building, had terrified him. He didn’t know how he’d be able to look at her, look into her eyes, and not feel the significance of his own mistakes crushing him.
He missed everything about her.
He missed her smile. The way her eyes lit up when she was excited about something. The warmth she brought into every room she entered.
But it wasn’t just that.
She had been the best thing in his life. The one thing that made him feel something beyond the reality of his rigid day-to-day structure. He had been a fool to push her away, to pretend like he didn’t care. And now, the weight of his own stupidity was drowning him.
Hotch leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling, the hum of the vents filling the otherwise quiet space. His mind replayed every moment of their time together, the stolen glances, the late nights, the spark between them, the sex that he had tried so hard to keep casual but had never been just that. It had always been more.
The truth was, he had been afraid.
Afraid of how much he needed her. Afraid of what it would mean to let her in, afraid that he would lose her to the job. But now, the fear felt insignificant compared to the hollow emptiness he felt without her.
He had to get her back.
The thought gnawed at him, day and night until it was all he could think about. He had rehearsed what he would say a thousand times in his head. But he could never bring himself to actually do it. Every time he thought about going to her, confronting her, something stopped him. The fear, the guilt, the uncertainty of whether she even wanted to see him again after the way he had treated her.
But tonight was different.
The late hour and the empty office only amplified the ache in his chest, and before he knew it, he was out of his chair, grabbing his coat, and heading for the door. His soul carried him toward her place before his mind could stop him. The drive felt longer than it should have, his heart racing with each mile that passed. What would he even say? How could he apologize for everything he had done?
He didn’t have an answer, but he knew he couldn’t keep living like this. He had to try.
The knock on your door sounded louder in the silence of the night, echoing through the quiet hallway. Hotch stood there, his heart pounding in his chest, throat dry as he waited. It had taken everything in him to get this far, to drive across the city, to stand in front of your door after months of silence. His hand shook slightly at his side, the importance of what he was about to do weighing down on him.
He wasn’t used to this. This vulnerability, this sense of desperation that had been festering ever since you walked out of his life. Hotch was always the calm and collected one. But here he was, outside your door, drenched in the cold sweat of regret and longing.
He knocked again, this time softer, more tentative, as if he was already bracing himself for the rejection he knew he deserved. His mind raced with what he would say, what words could possibly make up for the way he had hurt you.
The door creaked open, and there you were. For a moment, Hotch couldn’t breathe. You stood there, surprised, your eyes widening slightly as you took him in. He looked rough as if the months had worn him down. His suit was wrinkled, his hair slightly disheveled - things you would never have caught him dead in. He wasn’t the composed, stoic man you were used to seeing. This was a man on the edge.
You didn’t say anything at first. The silence between you was thick with unspoken tension, the memories of the past months hanging heavily in the air.
“Can I come in?” His voice was barely above a whisper, strained as if the words physically hurt to say.
You hesitated, your hand still gripping the edge of the door. Your heart raced in your chest, the recollection of that last argument flashing in your mind. The way he had dismissed your feelings, the way he had left you broken and alone.
But there was something in his eyes - something so raw, something so vulnerable that made you step aside, giving him room to enter.
The door clicked shut behind him, and the two of you stood in the middle of your small apartment. Hotch took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he shoved them into his pockets, trying to steady himself.
“I know I’m the last person you want to see,” he started, his voice tight. “But I had to… I couldn’t keep going like this.”
You crossed your arms, trying to protect yourself from the wave of emotions crashing over you. “What do you want, Aaron?” Your voice was sharp, and defensive. You didn’t have the energy to let him in, not after everything.
He flinched at your tone, but he didn’t back down. “I was wrong,” he said, the words tumbling out of him in a rush. “I was so wrong. About everything.”
You raised an eyebrow, skepticism written all over your face. “You just figured that out now?”
His jaw clenched, and he nodded. “Yes. And I’m sorry. I was an asshole. I was too focused on my own issues, on the job, on… everything but you. And I didn’t realize what I was losing until it was too late.”
You swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Why now? Why come here after months? What’s changed?”
Hotch’s eyes met yours, and you saw the flicker of pain, of guilt that he had been carrying all this time. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you! I can’t go a day without regretting what I said, what I did! You were… you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I threw it away because I was scared of losing it.”
You shook your head, trying to push back the tears that threatened to spill. “You hurt me, Aaron. You made me feel like I didn’t matter. Like I was just something convenient for you. Something you could just discard.”
“I know,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “And I hate myself for it. I hate that I made you feel that way because you’re not. You’re everything. You were everything to me, and I was too blind to see it.”
Your breath hitched as the emotions you had tried to bury for months came rushing back. The anger, the pain, the longing for something you thought you would never have. You turned to face away from him for a split second. “And what? You think you can just show up here, say sorry, and we’ll go back to how things were?”
He winced at your words, the truth of them stinging more than he’d expected. “No,” he admitted, his voice rough. “I don’t expect that. I don’t deserve that. But I need you to know… I need you to know that I want to change. That I miss you. That I’m not asking for anything other than a chance to make things right.”
The air in the room felt heavy, the tension between you and Hotch thick, almost suffocating. You stared at him, your heart torn between the hurt he had caused and the undeniable pull you still felt toward him.
“Why now?” you asked, your voice softer, more vulnerable. “Why couldn’t you've figured this out before?”
Hotch ran a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with regret. “Because I’m a coward,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t want to feel. I didn’t want to let anyone in because I was scared of what that would mean. But you… you broke through all of that, and I didn’t know how to handle it. So I pushed you away.”
You felt your throat tighten, the sincerity of his confession cutting through your defenses. Part of you wanted to scream at him, to push him away the way he had pushed you. But another part of you, the part that had loved him so deeply, wanted to pull him close, to forgive him, to believe that maybe he had changed.
“I’m not asking for everything to go back to how it was,” Hotch continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know I’ve lost your trust. But… just give me a chance. Let me prove that I’m not that man.”
You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, torn between the pain of the past and the possibility of something new. His eyes bore into yours, filled with a desperation that you had never seen before, an almost heartbreaking vulnerability.
“I don’t know if I can do this again, Aaron,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can let myself get hurt like that again.”
Hotch nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. “I know,” he said softly. “And I won’t push you. I won’t ask for more than you’re willing to give. Just let me show you. Let me be there for you, the way I should have been from the beginning.”
You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of the man who had hurt you, the man who had left you feeling broken and discarded. But all you saw was sincerity, regret, and a deep, aching desire to make things right.
Finally, you took a deep breath, your heart still heavy with everything that had happened. “Okay,” you said softly. “We can try. But it’s going to be on my terms, Aaron. Not yours.”
Relief washed over his face, and he nodded, his eyes softening. “Whatever you need,” he promised, his voice full of emotion. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
For the first time in months, you felt a small flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for the two of you to find your way back to each other.
#aaron hotchner#hoe4hotchner answers#criminal minds#aaron hotchner x reader#hotch#hotch thoughts#criminal minds x reader#hotchner#x reader#hotch x you#fem!reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#female reader#anon <3#anon asks#asks#aaron hotchner fic#ssa aaron hotchner#aaron hotch#aaron#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch imagine#cm#aaron hotchner criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#criminalminds
120 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unrequited
Pairing: Thranduil x F!Reader
Request: Anonymous asked: could you write something angsty with thranduil where reader is an elf in his kingdom but they've been friends for a long time and she loves him but never told him cuz she values thier friendship and thinks shes unworthy of him and she's starting to get sick and poisoned from holding the feelings in and he's getting really concerned thinking she might be dying
A/N: Thank you so much for giving me my first request! I hope I did your idea justice! Sorry it took so long, I wrote most of it before getting writer's block and taking a break before going back to heavily edit it and changing quite a few paragraphs.
Genre: Angst/Romance
Description: Over the years you’d managed to fall in love with your childhood friend, and kept your feelings hidden, terrified of ruining your friendship, but now years of hiding your feelings are catching up to you, making you unwell.
Warnings: None?
Word count: 1408
You had always been close to Thranduil, since birth, practically. Your mother, a trusted elleth who dealt with the important archives in the palace library, had helped tutor Thrandiuil in subjects such as history, and geography at his mother’s request. And seeing as you were too young to be left to your own devices, and your mother already taught you, you became a class of two with the Greenwood Prince.
It was safe to say not many others could say they’d been as close to the Prince as you were. And they definitely couldn’t say they knew him as well as you.
As years passed and you got older, you and Thranduil only got closer. You snuck out together, you hid from your parents together, you laughed and played together. You cried together.
You couldn’t say exactly when it was that your feelings for the Prince changed. Maybe it was when he made you a picnic to have on the balcony to cheer you up after some of the other young elves played a prank on you. Or maybe it was when he held you when you cried at the news of your mother’s death. Maybe it was when he spoke so eagerly on what he’d learnt on his trip to Lorien and you could only focus on the way his eyes lit up.
Maybe it was everything together. The only thing you knew was that you were steadily falling for the Prince.
But after a night spent lying awake, mulling it over, you realized that Thranduil could never know of your feelings.
Thranduil had only ever thought of you as a friend and you had no intentions of ruining that friendship. Even if he did feel the same, there was too much of a risk that it wouldn’t work out and your relationship would never be the same again.
Besides, Thranduil needed someone worthy of him, who could rule beside him when the time came - not an archivist who’d never dealt with politics in her life - not someone like you.
So you buried your feelings as you continued your mother’s work in the library, drawing away from Thranduil ever so slightly.
By the time Thranduil had been crowned King after his fathers death, (a very hard time in which you’d spent hours holding the devastated blond - even more so after his mother left to sail not long after, only waiting long enough to see Orpher laid to rest in the garden and Thranduil take the crown) you’d mastered hiding your feelings, and as the days grew darker and Greenwood slowly transformed into Mirkwood you continued to hide them.
And it was hard.
And as the days grew colder you could feel the years of holding yourself back, attempting to force yourself not to love him, catching up to you.
You tried to ignore it, pulling away from Thranduil, burying yourself in work, and brushing off any concerns your fellow elves may have with a breezy answer of how the cold must be affecting you.
It was a flimsy excuse, and you knew it. After all, elfs didn’t get sick from the cold like humans did. But it seemed to do the trick for a while at least.
Over the next month, you ignored the way your heart ached as you slowly felt yourself deteriorating. You ate less, forced smiles when you had to, cried yourself to sleep when no one was around to see.
Your glow was fading.
And Thranduil knew it too. After all, despite the way you’d seemed to pull away from him over the past few years, he was still your best friend, and he could tell that you were hurting, and ill, and who knows what else.
At first, he’d tried to casually bring the topic of you up with your friends, and it eventually came back to him that you were saying it was because of the cold.
The cold didn't affect elves. But other things could… An unusual panic seemed to take over him as his mind ran over the few illnesses that could affect elves. What if you were dying? Was that why you were pulling away from him? You didn’t want him to know?
And so Thranduil left his study with a stubborn resolve to find out exactly what was happening to you.
You looked up from the book you had sitting open in front of you as you stared into space when the library door was opened with enough force that it banged off the wall behind it and the reason your heart was aching stood in front of you, looking far from impressed.
Thranduil was clearly far from happy as he scanned you up and down. His eyes were cold but you could see the concern, a bit of anger and something else you couldn’t make out mixed in.
You furrowed your brows as he stood there in silence. You had to say something, but you couldn’t say his name. It was too hard to be so informal when you weren’t being informal in the way your heart wanted.
“My lord?”
That did it.
“Don’t call me that!” The blond seemed pained by the title as he rebuked you. “After all this time, you're going to start calling me ‘My lord?’”
You didn’t get a chance to say anything as he plowed on. “I don’t know what’s happening, I don’t know why you're pulling away from me, or why you look like you're about to pass out and not wake up!”
You blinked as Thranduil listed off things you’d thought you’d been able to keep hidden from him. Your attention went back to the king as he finished his torrent of words with a sentence, a word, that snapped you out of your daze. “But I need to know, you need to tell me, because I'm your friend, and you’re supposed to be able to come to me when you’re not okay.”
You let your book fall to the floor as you stood up, an unusual display of violence towards a book on your half, and tried to blink back the tears that had begun to push forward.
Unbeknownst to Thranduil, he had just put your problem into words, but it was too late to leave and pretend his words hadn’t just unintentionally broken your heart into pieces.
Suddenly you didn’t care if he knew. You didn’t care if the whole world knew. After all, he was the one who had said you needed to tell him.
Your heart pushed the rational part of your mind aside as your emotions reared up, ready to make you say words you might live to regret.
You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, tears finally falling as you finally spoke of your problems to the one who had unintentionally caused them.
“Well that’s just it, isn’t it? I’m your friend, and that’s all I ever will be, although I'd wager not at all after this, when my heart yearns for more, and has done so for longer than you can imagine!”
You ignored the blonde’s shocked expression as the words kept tumbling out.
“You are my problem! You who could never love me the way I love you!”
You broke off as your brain finally caught up to what you were saying, tears still falling from your eyes.
You let out a sob as you realized you’d done what you’d feared, ruining your friendship forever and pushed past Thranduil, who was still frozen in shock at your outburst, and made for the door, fully prepared to gather you things and leave, when a firm hand wrapped around your arm, stopping you from leaving the room.
You shut your eyes in shame as you felt him turn you to face him, a gentle hand lifting your chin, you his breath brushing against your ear as he spoke in a low voice. “My dear Y/N, you have never been more wrong in your life.”
And his lips pressed firmly against yours, one hand still holding your chin, the other on your arm.
And as you melted into the kiss, your mind finally catching up with what was happening, a final tear, this time of relief and happiness fell.
What tomorrow would bring, it didn’t matter. You were content in the moment, and things could only get better with Thranduil by your side, not only as a friend, but as a lover.
If you wish to join my taglist to be notified when I post new fics, click here. For my Tolkien Masterlist, click here. For my Main Masterlist, click here.
#thranduil x reader#thranduil imagine#the hobbit#thranduil#the hobbit x reader#female reader#imagines#my writing
466 notes
·
View notes
Note
omg. more pavitr content. please. i love your writing style sm, your first pav one solved everything wrong with the world.
i dont mind if its fluff/angst/smut or whatever, anythings good.
if you need something to work off of, i was thinking of a thing where pavs a lil possessive and clingy, so he starts to get jealous when hobie starts hanging out w and making (platonic) contact with the reader
Okay so I'm gonna combine this with an ask my friend sent me privately, so here we goooo!
Looking Crazy In Love
Jealous!Pavitr x Oblivious Fem!Spider-Woman
TW/CW: Some Angsty Pavitr, Jealous boi, you're both oblivious goobers, Hobie and Peter over here in the background pretending they have barbie dolls of you and smushing your faves together like "Now kiss dammit"
🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷
He didn't like it. He didn't like the hot burning feeling that settled in his gut; he didn't like how annoyed he got when he saw you two hanging on each other.
He could be wrong.
It could be nothing.
But it could also be something.
He wasn't ready for something to happen between you and Hobie. Not before he had a chance to... to...
Pavitr's shoulders dropped and he groaned, sighing for the umpteenth time today as he watched you and Hobie hang out.
Right now, Hobie was letting you hold his guitar, giving you a rundown on how to pluck the strings to make the worst noises possible (probably just to annoy Miguel with his super hearing).
You were laughing, he was laughing.
And... his arm dropped around your shoulders.
He felt that nasty feeling boil deep inside him.
He wasn't normally like this. Pavitr Prabhakar was not the jealous type. Right? Right, he's not.
Not not not not not, so not jealous.
Okay, maybe a little.
But who can blame him? Your smile, your hair, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about something you liked... you were perfect. His dream girl, right here, in the flesh.
And you were busy schmoozing up with Hobie, who seemed to be lapping up your attention, and... he winked! He winked at him! Why that tall arrogant...
Pavitr crossed his arms and silently seethed, glaring at the ground.
"You okay?" Peter B asked, dropping down next to him.
"'M fine." Pavitr muttered.
"Ohhh ho no you're not!" Peter grinned, sipping out of the plastic cup he had. He wasn't wearing the chest harness, so MJ must have Mayday today.
"The Pavitr Prabhakar I know is all sunshine and stray puppies. Come on, what's got you so down in the dumps?" The older man asked, tilting his head.
"It's nothing." Pavitr insisted, still not looking at him.
Peter looked up, noticing how you and Hobie were so close together and slyly looked at the younger Spider-Man.
He snapped his fingers as if he just realized something. "Oh, right!"
Pavitr watched as Peter cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled at you and Hobie. "Hey, Hobie! Miguel wants you 'n me on a mission!"
Hobie tossed his head back with a loud groan, taking his guitar from you.
"We'll continue your lessons some other time, yeh?" Hobie snorted, giving you a fist bump.
"You know it, Hobes." You beam happily up at him.
Peter was quick to whisk Hobie away, his arm around his shoulder as they spoke about something, looking back at the two of you as you bounced up to Pavitr.
Hobie was grinning.
Pavitr was not, he seemed to grow stiff when you got closer.
"Hey, Pav!" You smiled at him.
"Hey..." He mumbled, scrunching his shoulders.
"Heyyy... what's wrong?" You ask, your brow pinching up in concern.
"It's nothing." Pavitr lied.
"What's got you all grumpy? You're never grumpy! It's like you got bit by a big ole grumpy bug!" You giggle.
Pavitr shifted uncomfortably. "Just out of sorts, I guess."
He was quiet for a second before mumbling.
"You looked like you were having fun."
"Oh, me n Hobie? Yeah! He's been teaching me how to play, and maybe said that..." You notice the frown on his face deepen, and you reach out to touch his shoulder. "Pav? Are you--"
"I'm fine!" He snaps, shrugging your hand off his shoulder, before stomping away, leaving you confused, and a little hurt if you were being honest.
You follow him as he paces down into an empty hallway. After about five minutes of calling him and getting no answer, you scrunch your face and shoot some webs out, grabbing him by the back and effectively halting him, digging your heels into the floor as he tries to pull away, unable to reach the webs and pry them off of him.
"Agh! Let me go!" He grumbled, trying to pull free.
"Not... until... you talk to me!" You grunt, tugging harder.
"I said it's nothing! Leave me alone!"
"It's not... nothing!" You groan with effort, yanking as hard as you can and finally pulling Pavitr so hard he lands flat on his butt.
You take the opportunity to run up to him, panting, your hands on your knees as you watch him stand.
"You can tell me, Pav! You know you can! Just tell me what's--"
"Arrrrgh!" Pavitr reached up to his head and scruffs his hair in frustration.
"Pavitr--"
"It's--it's you, okay?! You are the thing that's bugging me!" Pavitr said, turning to look at you, stomping his foot.
When he saw you wince slightly he ran his hand through his hair again and started pacing back and forth in the hallway, hand gripping his hair, feeling a little guilty for snapping at you, now.
"I like you! Like... like more than just like! When--when you're around me, I... I get this funny feeling in my chest, butterflies in my stomach... when you laugh you make me feel like--like--!" He waved his arms, as if that explained his feelings.
"And seeing you with Hobie just--just makes me so... so...!"
He makes a frustrated noise as he paces harder.
"Are you... jealous that I'm spending time with Hobie?" You finally asked eyes wide.
"No! Yes! Well, I--he just--you two--!" He blurted, looking at you with an almost hurt expression, before slumping his posture and looking at the ground.
"I just... it makes me feel like I'm... just... not enough." He says softly.
You stand in silence, and it feels like it stretches as long as the empty hallway.
You decide to break it.
"Pavitr..."
He doesn't look at you, just squeezes his eyes shut, as if he was waiting for the rejection he anticipated.
You shake your head, smiling softly as you walk up to him.
He still doesn't make eye contact with you, but you feel all the air rush from his body and you could swear you heard the crashing noises as his brain stopped working when you kissed his cheek.
"I... I like you too, you dummy. I was just... I didn't think you felt the same way."
Pavitr looked at you, his jaw on the floor.
"And Hobie and I are just friends, Pav. He's teaching me some cool tricks. He's more like a big brother than anything." You chuckle at him, reaching up to shut his jaw with a soft click as your knuckles push it back up again.
"So you--"
"Yeah, I love you too, Pav."
Pavitr reaches out and wraps his arm around your waist, swinging you around, making you squeak and laugh.
"Oh my god I love you too!" He declared, full of jubilance.
🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷
Peter gave Hobie a fist bump as they watched the security feeds that Lyla was feeding them on their watches.
"Told you he'd crack." Hobie grinned. "You owe me lunch."
"Yeah yeah, just don't burn my wallet!" Peter laughed.
#pavitr x you#pavitr prabhakar x you#pavitr prabhakar x reader#atsv pavitr#pavitr prabhakar#my writing#answered
120 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Greatest
A/N: this is my first "song fic" ever, I wanted something (or NEEDED) with this song. I might also do a part 2 with Levi's POV.
Based on The Greatest by Lana Del Rey
tags: singer!levi x singer!reader, no use of y/n, implication of female reader, angsty (if I need to add more or if you guys have suggestions as to what I can add pls let me know)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Saying you were nervous was an understatement. This would be the first time you would perform in front of an audience in three months. For clarity, your ex was in the crowd. It was a completely new song and the first time you'd shown your face in public in a while. You held the microphone with sweaty hands, and your manager smiled at you. "You'll do amazing. Just get out there and do your thing." She says while she holds onto your shoulders.
"It has been a while since I performed, you know."
"Perhaps, but many artists have gone longer, " she says. She was correct; you couldn't let a few nerves bring you down.
"Here goes nothing." You approach the 'x' on stage where many other singers have stood. Feeling the weight of your long dress, you wait patiently for the music to start.
"I miss Long Beach, and I miss you babe
I miss dancing with you the most of all
I miss the bar where the Beach Boys would go
Dennis' last stop before Kokomo,"
The lights shine bright, and luckily, you couldn't see anyone. That is until you start walking towards the front of the stage, and the audience's faces start to pop up. You can see the shock on people's faces when they realize it's you singing again. You can see the table where your old friends are sitting, slowly making eye contact with each of them. You see Hange smiling brightly at you with tears in her eyes. Right next to her, you see Erwin giving you a nod, almost as if saying, "We missed you up there." Last but not least, you find the face of the man who broke your heart three months prior, Levi Ackerman. His stoic face was looking up at you with no emotion in sight.
You rapidly look away, not wanting to break down. As you continue your song, flashbacks of your memories with him go through your mind.
"Those nights were on fire
We couldn't get higher
We didn't know that we had it all
But nobody warns you before the fall."
You can't hold it in any longer; you start singing more passionately, and tears start spilling from your eyes. The number of times you've retraced every action that led up to the breakup left you constantly overthinking what went wrong.
Both of you were happy; you supported each other immensely with your careers. Both of you were singers, each other's muses. He wrote you songs, and you wrote him songs. He wrote songs about you, and you wrote songs about him. Everyone saw how deeply you loved each other. But where did it go wrong?
"And I'm wasted
Don't leave, I just need a wake-up call
I'm facing the greatest
The greatest loss of them all
The culture is lit, and I had a ball
I guess I'm signing off after all."
As you reach the chorus, you can see the tears forming in the audience's eyes. Hange was already crying hysterically, and the sight made you reminisce about all the times you watched romcoms at your place, at Levi's place. You can see Erwin already grabbing a tissue box for her and handing it over.
It's not like they stopped talking to you; however, you didn't feel up to socializing after the past few months. Sometimes, you didn't even get out of bed; other times, you didn't even look at your phone. Many fans and friends wondered what happened and where you went. How silly to say you were heartbroken and didn't want to do anything.
"I miss New York, and I miss the music
Me and my friends, we miss rock 'n' roll
I want shit to feel just like it used to
And baby, I was doing nothing the most of all."
You accepted this "gig" because you missed the music. You missed performing, the thrill, and the emotion; you missed the feeling of letting everything inside of you come out. Your manager told you, "I will not force you, but if you keep isolating yourself, you won't come back out." Quite frankly, she was right. You had to do something to return and continue moving forward no matter what happened. This song was born, and you knew you had to perform it.
"The culture is lit
And if this is it I had a ball
I guess that I'm burned out after all."
"I think I need a break." He says with a stern voice. "What do you mean by that?" You look at him, furrowing your eyebrows. He stands in front of you, and both of you are still in the living room of your shared penthouse apartment.
"I don't know; I just think I need a break, " he continues. He doesn't make eye contact with you; he stands there with his head down. Your eyes start filling up with tears, "but why?" He doesn't answer. Deep down, he knows he was in love with you, but something about falling too fast and hard scared him. He wasn't sure what made him so afraid. Was it commitment? Was it rejection, scared that you didn't feel the same? No, he feared you'd leave first, so he decided to go before you. He thought you were too good for him; you cared for him and were understanding, yet the fear stuck on him like a parasite in his mind.
"I'm wasted
Don't leave, I just need a wake-up call
I'm facing the greatest
The greatest loss of them all
The culture is lit, and I had a ball
I guess that I'm burned out after all."
As you approach the end of your song, you see Levi grab his jacket and walk out. Hange and Erwin both shake their heads at him. You feel a sharp pain in your chest as if he ripped out your heart for the second time. Hange looks back up at you, giving you a thumbs-up, a subtle way of saying, "Don't worry."
The tears never stopped. You kept singing, and with every word, it seemed your body decided to release a waterfall. The same question rang in your mind: "What went wrong?"
"If this is it, I'm signing off
Miss doing nothing the most of all
Hawaii just missed a fireball
L.A. is in flames, it's getting hot
Kanye West is blond and gone
"Life on Mars" ain't just a song
Oh, the live stream's almost on."
As you hear the plethora of applauses, you try to smile while wiping away your tears. You walk backstage, surprised to see Hange there. She immediately comes up to you and hugs you, and you completely break down on her.
"It's okay, it's okay. You were amazing, sweetheart." She coos.
"Hange.." you say, your voice cracking, "I'm sorry for not talking to you. I missed you so much. I just couldn't..."
"Shhh, it's okay, I understand. Don't worry, I'm still here." You feel another presence come up and hug you. From the cologne, you can tell it's Erwin. You slowly unravel from the hug. Hange wipes away your tears, and you sheepishly look at Erwin.
"Erwin, I'm so-"
"Don't even apologize. We understand. If it makes you feel better, Hange and I gave Levi an earful." He chuckles.
"Is he still here?" You ask.
"Unfortunately, he left a few minutes ago, but don't worry, I'm sure he will eventually come around." Both of them give you a warm smile.
You didn't even bother going to the after-party of the event. You were exhausted emotionally, mentally, and physically. Your manager gave you a ride back to your place.
"You were fantastic. I know it was tough for you, but many people missed you." You give a small smile, thank her for the ride, and walk into your apartment. You can't hold on any longer, so you start sobbing your heart out.
After an eternity, you change from your dress into some loose-fitting clothing. You put your phone on Do Not Disturb and go straight to sleep. You know you will receive endless texts and calls after the performance, but you won't deal with it, at least not tonight. The only thing you want right now is some rest, and as you close your eyes, the all-familiar question comes back: what went wrong?
#aot x y/n#aot x reader#levi ackerman#levi x reader#singer levi#hange zoe#erwin smith#attack on titan
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi June! No.1 for the prompt meme if you feel inspired? 💖
hi calli!! thanks for dropping in <3 this is kind of loosely the "dirtiest white boy in america" period but honestly. fuck if i know. it's sad though
send me a number and ill write something angsty
1 - keeping things from the other to spare their feelings
Sometimes Dad had to bail, Mickey knew. When they were little kids, not smart enough to keep their traps shut, he and Mandy got dragged along, lying in the backseat, her head in his lap. Perks of being the youngest two, Mickey guesses. Seeing Indiana before they turned six. By the time Mom was gone, they were told to keep their heads down and wait it out while Dad fucked off to who-knows-where. It sucked, but it sucked less than having him home. It was tolerable.
When the pigs started sniffing around the Alibi, Dad got itchy. They were just around to "ask questions," but the proximity was enough. He had a bag packed in ten minutes, four loaded handguns tucked under dirty underwear and ratty cutoffs. It was damn near a rampage, but Mickey didn't have the sixth sense his siblings did that told them to get the fuck out of dodge. He didn't even realize the depth of shit he was in until Dad pitched a backpack at him and asked what the fuck he was standing around with his thumb up his ass for.
Arguing was useless. If he ran now, Mickey would be dead when Dad inevitably made it back to Chicago. So he took the backpack and stuffed it with a change of clothes and a handful of knives and cash, tucking his busted flip phone into a wad of underwear. In case he needed it, Mickey told himself. So he could contact Mandy if they were gonna be gone long. Not Ian.
That's what he told himself, at least, but when they were halfway to Dad's buddy's cabin in Minnesota and it slipped out that he was wanted for eight counts of trafficking, when Mickey's throat started to burn, he knew.
A nine hour drive meant sitting next to Dad all night. When they finally, finally made it, got out to stretch their legs deep in the woods, it set in. Mickey was very firmly stuck here, at least for the coming days, nobody to keep him company but Dad and the fucking raccoons.
Just about as soon as they set foot in the cabin, Dad was snoring. Mickey wasn't about to take his chances in the same room, only four feet of space between the twin beds. He crept to the bathroom, locked the door, propped a stepstool against it for good measure. He texted Mandy first, short and to the point: sos in mn.
Then there was the problem of Ian. He had, at best, one message to make sure he'd leave him alone. There was no telling how long it would take Mandy to figure out how the fuck to get him out of this three-room shithole, assuming he wasn't cursed to die in it. Mickey couldn't say nothing. Ian would get antsy, go looking for him. Say something he shouldn't. But he couldn't tell him what was actually happening, either, because he couldn't give Ian that false hope. Couldn't let him stay attached, pine, worry, wait for something that wasn't going to come.
He had to let him get over it like a normal heartbreak. Ian could cry for a week and then find some other South Side street rat to fuck instead, a thought that had Mickey gnawing on his bottom lip to distract from the pit in his stomach. Yeah. That was what he had to do.
cant c u anymore, he wrote. dont txt.
Mickey deleted both messages as soon as they went through. He allowed himself ten seconds to let it sink in. Knuckles pressed into his eyes, sitting on the toilet lit bent double, he sniffled once. Then, after a few shuddering breaths, he opened the door, and thank fuck, Dad was still snoring.
#june's writing#gallavich#prompt fill#terry milkovich#mickey milkovich#tw abuse#angst#i did not mean to go this dramatic with it but i mean. the boys did not have an easy time in their early years#it fits i guess#and i also. didnt know what to do with it#anyway thank you so much calli <3
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
Let your guard down
Request: Hello! I was wondering if you were interested in writing an angsty Steve Harrington x Robin Buckley x reader (all platonic because the reader is under 18) story where they all work at Family Video. The reader is really shy and timid. When she first started working at Family Video, Steve and Robin thought it was kind of funny the reader would just do whatever was asked of her and they would push their work off onto her so they could mess around. Then Steve starts to notice things about the reader like bruises and not having anything to eat on her lunch break or anyone to pick her up or drop her off. He grows a massive soft spot for her. One night a group of guys from school that always bully her show up and start harassing the reader, cornering her in the back of the store. They’re all bigger than her and she’s scared of them. Steve gets super protective and makes the guys leave. She’s trembling with anxiety even after they are gone and Steve calms her down and then she confesses that they bully her all the time at school. Steve and Robin start looking out for her more.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x platonic!reader x Robin Buckley
Warnings: cursing, bullying, bleeding
Notes: Hope you like the fic and sorry for taking longer than I expected, college just started which means a lot of assignments to organise and deal with. Also, sorry to anyone named Mark, it just came to me. Stay safe out there!💕
~Masterlist~
Steve had just rung up a customer when the door of the store flew open revealing an out-of-breath Robin entering the store. He wished the sweet lady who had just rented ‘The Karate Kid’ goodbye and let his eyes fall on his best friend leaning her forearms on top of the counter, trying to catch her breath.
“You’re late.” Steve simply told her.
“I know, I know. Band practice went on longer than I expected.” she took quick deep breaths to calm down her beating.
“Even the new hire came in earlier than you.”
“We have a new hire?” Robin’s memory wasn’t the best, but she definitely didn’t remember Keith telling her about a new hire.
Steve pointed towards the back of the store where a familiar figure to Robin was organizing the Halloween section they always set up during October. It took a moment for Robin to get her thoughts sorted out, but as a light bulb lit up in her mind, she was already calling out your name and saying hello as she remembered you are also a suffering student at Hawkins High.
She watched as your head lifted and turned toward her, not finding it odd that you responded with nothing more than a small wave before returning to your work. Even at school, you were one of the quieter kids, so Robin took the wave as an accomplishment.
“You know her?” Steve was the one now leaning, watching his friend’s interaction with furrowed brows. When you had come into the store just an hour ago and quietly told him you were the person Keith told him to expect, Steve was excited. He liked meeting new people and given you were fairly around his age he was excited to have another friend. But as he began showing you around, he quickly realized you weren’t much of a talker, which disappointed him. So, he was just rambling on and on about the store and its requirements while you simply nodded at his words, your eyes not even meeting his. When he noticed Robin was running late, he took the decision to stay behind the counter and assigned you the job he was supposed to have already finished, which you took without question, silently arranging the shelves.
“Yeah, she’s from school, but of course, you don’t remember her.” she smirked at him. Robin loved teasing him about his past personality, and Steve hated it.
“Will you stop it with that?” he followed her movement as she walked to the breakroom to get her things sorted out before coming back out to start her shift.
“Why don’t you go and help her out since she’s doing your section?”
“I was covering for you, smartass.”
---
So, all of your shifts went on as they usually would. You were mainly the one organizing the shelves with the returned or new tapes you would get; Steve was the one to help customers around the store and Robin was usually sitting by the register. When they didn’t have any customers, they made sure to show you some of the other sections around the store, so at any given moment you would be able to help out without any problems.
Robin usually tried to start conversations with you, mainly about an assignment you both had or complaining about an annoying teacher, but your answers were short, so after a couple of tries, she stuck with casual conversation.
This has been going on for a week. You would all come at your required times and do your jobs. Well, you did your job quietly while Steve and Robin chatted away the second they didn’t have to actually work.
Steve was confused at how closed off you were. At first, he thought it was because he had done something to you back in High School that he didn’t even remember, something so bad it made you hate him. However, he quickly realized that your closed-off behavior wasn’t just for him, you acted that way around Robin and Keith too, so he at least knew it wasn’t personal. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder why you were like that.
It was a week after you first started and all three of you were on the closing shift. You had closed the store, but you still needed to prepare everything for Keith who would open tomorrow. Robin was closing the register when she began looking around the store for Steve. She couldn’t find him anywhere so she turned to you, who were sweeping the floors, getting rid of all the dirt the customers would bring in during the day.
“Hey, have you seen Steve?” she watched your eyes drift behind her as you pointed at the same direction, before continuing your task. Robin turned her head over her shoulder only to watch in horror how he was already out of his work clothes and ready to leave.
“Well, I’m off. I have a date tonight and I can’t be late. See you tomorrow.” he waved at the two, but neither of them responded and for different reasons.
“Woah, woah, there dingus. What do you mean you’re off?” Robin’s legs quickly made their way over to Steve blocking his way out of the store.
“It usually means I’m leaving, Robin.” he scoffed, turning to look at you waiting for a reaction over this, but looked back at Robin when he saw you weren’t even paying attention to them.
“I told you yesterday that I can’t close because I have to study for a test tomorrow, Steve.” Robin’s arms crossed over her chest while Steve grimaced when the memory finally hit him.
“Well, I can’t cancel on the date, I’ll look like an idiot.”
The pair began arguing over who deserved to get off work early the most, not realizing your movement stopped as you turned to stare at them.
“I can close.”
For a second Steve was startled by the new voice, but relaxed when he realized it was you. He thinks this was the first time he had heard you say so many words at once, hearing your voice clearly for the first time.
“You sure?” he questioned you and sighed with relief when you nodded your head.
“Alright well, we have a list of what needs to be done around the store at the back if you don’t remember anything and then you just lock up with these right here.” you watched the brown-haired boy make his way at the counter and grab the set of keys you already knew where there.
“I know.” you took them from his grasp and placed them in your pocket.
“Good.”
“Thank you, seriously, we owe you.” Robin had just grabbed her stuff and opened the door for the two of them. They wished you goodnight before leaving the store and you behind.
---
That’s how it started. At first, they were really thankful you could cover for them, but as time went on they realized you were always ready to take over. Sometimes it happened while Steve was too busy to finish the work he had started because he was flirting with a cute girl. By the time he had rang the girl up and escorted her out, he went back to find his section ready and you leaving without a word. You also helped out Robin when she would inevitably forget she had to do something.
The pair didn’t question it at all. They actually found it pretty convenient, and so they started testing just how far was your limit. Whenever they were busy, talking, or bored they would assign you a task they were supposed to be doing. They were a little hesitant at first, trying to see if you would catch up to what they were doing, but you always took on the job without complaining. And since you weren’t complaining they thought it was the perfect plan. And it’s not like they didn’t do anything, they just watched more movies now at the store unbothered. And isn’t that what they were supposed to do, they told themselves, watch the movies they had to give out the perfect recommendations to customers? They were doing them a favor.
---
November had just started and you were once again over at the Halloween section, taking everything down, as you listened in to Steve’s awful attempt at flirting with yet another customer. You heard him laugh at his own cheesy joke when his body collided with yours sending you and the tapes you were holding on the floor.
Steve’s head immediately whipped around and started cursing when he saw you on the floor. He turned back to Rebecca, the girl he was talking to, to excuse him for a moment, but realized she was already gone.
“Great…” he mumbled under his breath before focusing his attention back to you “Hey, I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot. Are you okay?”
You watched him from the corner of your eye kneel down next to you, but you didn’t look up to meet his eyes, just started picking up the tapes from the floor.
“Hey, here, lemme get those.” he took the tapes from your hands and placed them in the cart you were previously using. He grabbed the rest of them and then let his eyes fall on you once more “Want me to help you up?” even though he put it as a question he didn’t wait a second to grab your wrists, ready to pull you but to your feet, but his movement quickly died down when a wince came from your mouth, your eyes snapping closed as if you were in pain.
Steve immediately removed his hands off you, looking terrified wondering what he did “Oh my God, are you okay? Did the fall hurt you? I’m sorry, let me look-”
He saw. You didn’t register his actions before it was too late, and he saw. He saw what they had done to you, and now you were scared. You didn’t expect Steve to help you up. You didn’t expect him to grab you by your wrists, the same place they used to tug you around when they threw insults in your face. You didn’t expect him to notice your pain, you always thought you hid it well. And you definitely didn’t expect him to worry and inspect upon your pain, because no one else has ever had. But he did. He grabbed your long sleeve, pushed it up, and he saw them. You did tear off his gentle grip and pulled the sleeve back down, but he had clearly seen the purple bruises on your arm.
“I’m okay.” you told him quietly, your eyes staying on the ground.
You stood still for a second, trying to decide what you were supposed to do now, waiting to see the way Steve would react as well.
“All right. I’ll, um… I’ll finish over here, alright? Go see if Robin needs any help.” you weren’t sure if you were glad he didn’t comment on it, but you left without a second thought, praying he wouldn’t make it a big deal.
---
After that incident, Steve’s eyes mostly never left your figure while at work. He always watched you do your job. At first, he told himself it was out of curiosity over the bruises, but it wasn’t long till he realized he was worried. Because it wasn’t only the bruises that picked his curiosity. Suddenly he started seeing all those things about you that hinted at something wrong.
He was able to notice your wincing more often, especially when you thought no one was looking, always caressing your wrists after a long shift. He also noticed that you never had a break during work. He tried to recall when he had last seen you have a meal here, but other than the occasional granola bar during full shifts on the weekends, you never brought anything else with you, which was a drastic difference compared to him and Robin.
When he ran it by Robin, she tried to take a more logical approach to the whole thing, but she also found it weird.
“I mean during the weekdays it could be because we’re having lunch at school, but on the weekends… I don’t think I’ve seen her sit on her break longer than 5 minutes.”
“Right? I don’t know, maybe I’m overreacting here, I mean, not everyone has our appetite.” Robin nodded at his words “But I’m starting to get a little worried here. And I can’t outright ask her because I don’t know her that well. Plus there’s no way she would answer me, right?”
“Well, collectively, we’ve only heard her say 20 words? So, no, it won’t be easy to talk to her.”
“Try and see if you could approach her more in school, see how she acts there. Does she have any friends? Maybe we could ask them?” his brain was trying so hard to find some way to help you without scaring you away.
“To be honest with you, it is a little hard to keep track of her around school. She always seems to disappear in between classes, like she doesn’t wanna be found.”
He thought his talk with Robin would be reassuring, but it ended up being anything but that. So for the rest of the day he made sure to help you out with your work and stop putting more things on your shoulders. He decided he would try to get on your good side, so he could approach you about his worries.
---
You had just helped a little kid pick out a movie to watch with his mother when loud laughter and yelling caught your attention. Your eyes shifted at the front of the store in curiosity before they widened. Your heartbeat picked up and you could barely feel your legs as they started guiding you away from them.
‘What are they doing here’ you thought. You were used to them at school, but here? How could you hide it? You can’t go out the entrance door without them seeing you and the break room is on the other side of the store. Your mind was screaming for you to hide, but as his eyes fell on you, you knew it was too late.
---
Steve eyed the group that entered the store suspiciously. He had never seen them in here before, but he remembered their faces when he was back in Highschool. Back then they were just kids, mostly getting into trouble with stupid pranks they did around school, but they build a reputation for themselves, so of course ‘King Steve’ would have them in his radar. He didn’t like them, but he couldn’t just go up to them and demand to leave the store, he would be fired.
So, he decided to let them be and only interfere if something bad actually happens.
He was helping out a sweet lady, telling her all about the movie she was interested in just so she could make sure nothing scary is in it. He spent a good five minutes doing so and then proceeded to ring her up and show her out the store, holding the door open for her, when Robin’s figure appeared next to him.
“Hey, can you deal with Mark and his little friends? I really don’t feel like talking to them outside of school.” Steve nodded at her words. Mark was the ‘leader’ of the group, the one telling the rest what to do and what not to do.
“Yeah, I will, don’t worry. Is he still as stupid as I remember him?” they made their way to the register, leaning their bodies as they waited for another customer to enter.
“Oh, he’s worse now. They’ve started picking on people a lot more, not just dumb pranks.” he watched her pick out a candy from their candy jar and pop it in her mouth.
“He hasn’t tried anything on you or the kids, right?”
“No, don’t worry. Just victims of his stupidity reeking the entire school.”
Steve smirked at her exaggeration but stopped when he realized you weren’t anywhere near his eye sight “Have you seen Y/n?”
However, before they could start looking for you, the yells coming from the back started becoming more prominent. Robin sighed at their behavior and Steve stood up straight, patting her back “I’ll go kick them out.” he made his way towards Mark and his friends and clapped his hands to announce himself as their heads came into view behind all the shelves “Alright, guys, If you don’t sto-”
Steve froze. When he saw you down on the floor, hiding in the corner while Mark stood before you, his hand gripping your hair, he nearly lost every sense of control he had in him, but he knew killing wouldn’t resolve to anything good right now.
“What the fuck are you doing? Get off of her.” he yelled at him as he pushed his way to the asshole above you, punching him across his face and when the guy stumbled, trying to find his balance again, he grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pushed him into the wall. The rest of the group started scattering and left the store quickly as they realized they had been caught.
“Steve, what’s…” Steve could sense Robin was now watching everything that was happening but couldn’t focus on anything other than Mark in front of him. He wanted to hit him again, he wanted to beat the shit out of him, but for now he had to stop, because he wasn’t his main focus, you were. He needed to make sure you were okay first and then if you gave him the green light he would get Dustin and they would hunt Mark down.
His fist was already in the air in a way to threaten Mark, and it was working. The boy in front of him despite being the horror of Hawkins High for some of the students that attended, to Steve he was still just the scrawny kid he used to see run around the halls. And Mark remembered Steve, who couldn’t remember him? So, even he knew not to test the King’s limits.
Steve’s fist slowly lowered as he once again grabbed onto his collar “If you ever try anything on her or anyone again, I will not hesitate.” he pushed him into the wall one more time before sending him forward. He watched him nearly fall on the floor before he quickly ran to the door and left the store.
It didn’t take long for Steve to come back to his normal self where only one thing was important. Making sure you were okay. Turning around he saw you still on the floor, your shoulders shaking. He could tell you were crying even though your face was angled to the floor. Robin was before you trying to access the situation, but each time she would try to put a comforting hand on your shoulder, you shook it off. He didn’t even think you were doing it on purpose, you were just scared.
“Hey, hey, Y/n? Can you hear me?” he kneeled down and spoke in a soft voice. He wasn’t sure what the best approach would be when someone is having, what he would assume this is, a panic attack, but his instinct told him ‘just don’t startle her’.
He waited for some kind of response, but you only shook harder at his words. You could hear him and you could understand him, but your body wasn’t making it easy to answer him. You wanted to say it’s fine and then walk away and never talk about this again, but you’ve been caught red handed.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. Can you nod for me and tell me if you can stand up?” your breathing was quick and tears were falling from your eyes, but you eventually pulled through and nodded your head. You heard the boy before you let out a sigh of relief before he started speaking again “Alright, great. Robin, go and flip the sign up front, we don’t want any customers right now.” you heard Robin agree and the sound of her footsteps came next. Your eyes were closed, so you were relying on all your other senses to understand what was happening. Suddenly, you felt a cloud of warmth surrounding you, Steve was closer to you now, you realized “I’m going to help you get up and we’re going to walk to the break room, is that okay?”
You were able to let out a shaky ‘yes’ before you felt his arms loop around you and help you stand up. Without realizing it, you made it to the break room where you were sat on top of a chair while the others stood around you, trying to help you.
Robin helped you through your panic, guiding you to follow her breathing, while now with your eyes open you could see Steve run around trying to find water for you and some kind of bandage for your hand that was bleeding. After the fall you had landed on top of the moving cart and managed to scratch your hand as you tried to stop the harsh impact.
Eventually, your breathing was back to normal, your eyes were red, and the water bottle was in your hands, one of them wrapped with bandages. You were focusing on the water and not on your two coworkers, who were starring at you from across the table in the break room waiting for you to speak. You guessed Steve didn’t have a lot of patience since it wasn’t long until his voice filled your ears.
“Do you want to tell us what happened?” his voice was soft and you were thankful for that. You weren’t sure why you were expecting to hear him angry, as if he has ever been anything but nice to you, but you feared that after seeing you on the floor they would call you all those things you already knew about yourself. Stupid, weak, a bitch, like how he called you.
After a couple of seconds you were able to nod your head and look them in the eye, before speaking softly “Um… Mark and the rest, they uh… they’ve been messing with me-”
“Messing with you? More like-” Robin spoke up, her voice filtered with anger. She felt terrible for not noticing how you felt. She was never too good at filtering her words and action, so when Steve nudged her, she knew it wasn’t the time to let her emotions get the best of her “Sorry.” she motioned for you to continue, but you quickly shook your head thinking you sounded dumb.
“It’s not even a big deal, seriously.” your good hand was playing with the cap on the water bottle.
“Not a big, deal? Y/n, you’re bleeding. And I’m guessing the marks I saw on your arm were from them too?” Steve was getting defensive. He couldn’t believe you thought this was any kind of ‘okay’. He started feeling the same way he does when the kids are in danger and he wants to do anything, everything, to make you feel protected and safe.
“You saw those?” your voice was a mere whisper at this point.
“Yeah, I saw those. Y/n, what they are doing is wrong. No one should be treated like this, especially not you. If they ever try anything again, you come and tell me, alright?” you watched as his eyes met yours when he kneeled down before you once again. You could see he was genuine, and you could feel your guard being let down.
“Oh, I’ll make sure they don’t, because from now on you’re not leaving my side at school, okay? They’re not going to hurt you ever again.” Robin made a promise to herself to be your personal bodyguard at school.
You looked at both of them and then your eyes filled with tears again “I’m really scared…” you finally admitted to them.
“I know, but you shouldn’t be. From now on you have us, okay? We’re sorry for not noticing sooner, but you can truly trust us.” Steve held out his hand for you, which you took gladly.
“We want to help.”
You sniffled at their words and finally let out your first smile in front of them. Your first smile in a long time “Thank you.”
~~~
#steve harrington#robin buckley#steve harrington x platonic!reader#platonic!reader#robin buckley x platonic!reader#steve harrington x reader#robin buckley x reader#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#requested by anon
111 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Ink Demonth 12
Today's theme is Copy.
I was initially going to go angsty with this, but I decided against it.
=========================================
Charlie Lawrence had a tendency to copy behaviors from their parents. Whether or not they were aware of this themselves was unclear, but the other employees at the studio had certainly noticed.
Wally had been the first to bring it up one day in the breakroom.
"You ever noticed how the kid always taps their cane in the same rhythm Sammy taps his pen when he's concentratin'?"
Many of the employees put down their sandwiches.
"What do you mean?" Tom asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Sammy's got this rhythm he taps with his pen when he's concentrating," Wally explained before demonstrating the rhythm. "And the kid taps out the same rhythm with their cane when they're thinking. I saw 'em doin' it when they were working on some essays for school."
"He's right," Norman agreed. "Sometimes when the two of them are in the same room they synch up. It's pretty fascinating to watch."
"Yeah, it's crazy, right?" Wally lit up at the confirmation that he'd been right. "Kid's like a tiny Sammy sometimes!"
They certainly tended to resemble Sammy in their dress style at least. As they'd gotten older they'd started dressing more like Sammy, with a lot of button-ups and pants with suspenders. Although, they were just as likely to show up in long skirts that looked borrowed from Susie's closet with floral tops that would have been right at home on the lovely Miss Campbell.
"They're like a smaller Susie sometimes too," Tom added. "When they're not paying attention, they start humming scales the same way Susie does."
"I've heard them do that too!" One of the band members gasped. "The first few times I thought it was Miss Susie, but when I went in to check it was Charlie!"
Susie had a very specific way of doing scales that was instantly recognizable to anyone who had heard her do it before. It wasn't surprising that Charlie might have picked it up, given they must have heard those scales dozens of times a day for nearly five years now.
"And when they get upset they say "fiddlesticks" like Miss Susie!" Another band member piped up.
"Or they swear like Sammy, depending on the company," Norman said.
Tom stifled a snort at the memory of when Charlie had nearly tripped over a pipe and let out the loudest "fuck" he had ever heard them utter. They had been absolutely mortified when they'd realized he had witnessed this and had begged him not to tell their parents. He'd promised he wouldn't, even though he had a feeling neither Susie nor Sammy would actually care about them swearing. He'd been too busy suppressing laughter to point this out, though.
"You should've heard the storm they cussed up when they failed at the shooting gallery," Wally said, leaning back against a wall.
"They really did sound just like Sammy," a warehouse worker giggled. "I felt so bad for laughing, but their rant sounded exactly like one Sammy would do!"
"They certainly are their parents' child," Norman laughed quietly.
"They certainly are." Tom couldn't help but smile to himself. For as frustrated as he could be with Sammy, it was sweet to see how he'd rubbed off on his child.
At the top of the stairs, listening at the door, Susie and Sammy were both tearing up a bit, both out of pride and fondness. They hadn't realized quite how much Charlie had picked up from them. Sure, they'd noticed Charlie copying some things they did and said in the beginning, but they hadn't noticed all the little habits Charlie had been picking up.
Charlie truly was their child, weren't they?
"Mom? Dad? You okay?" They were startled out of their thoughts by Charlie wheeling over in their chair. They were having a bad mobility day, so they were using the chair today.
"Oh, uh, yes! We're alright, sweetie!" Susie said quickly, straightening up and wiping away her tears.
"Yes, we're fine," Sammy agreed, awkwardly clearing his throat.
Charlie frowned slightly, wheeling closer. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"We're fine," Susie assured them, smiling softly as she leaned down to hug them. "We're just really happy you're in our lives."
Charlie blushed, hiding their face in Susie's shoulder. "Mom..." They whined in the signature tone of an embarrassed teenager who was enjoying the love but felt they needed to pretend they were too cool for it.
"We love you a lot, Charlie," Sammy said, putting his hand on Charlie's shoulder.
"You guys!" Charlie further buried their face in Susie's shoulder. "You're gonna make me cry!"
"For good reasons, I hope!" Susie said brightly.
Sammy couldn't help but laugh. "Let's go get you some food, alright?"
Charlie nodded, withdrawing from Susie with a sniffle. They'd grown so much since they'd come into Susie and Sammy's lives.
The two of them couldn't be more proud of their child.
#bendy and the ink machine#fanfiction#the ink demonth#charlie lawrence#sammy lawrence#susie campbell#thomas connor#norman polk#wally franks
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Something about us - A Taiora one-shot
Just here quickly to drop this after being on a big hiatus (sorry...), because it's @jamesthedigidestined's birthday today! And he became a very special friend to me this last year, during good and bad times, so this is my present and a thank you to him <;3
James, we've talked about so many things. Such different things. All things Taiora, but also other animes, Avatar the Last Airbender, personal stuff and so on. I tried to compile some of those things into a one-shot, obviously Taiora, because that was what initially brought you to me. And there's something about us ;)
All the love! Big hugs ^^
Taiora one-shot | Genre: Angsty domestic fluff? | Characters: Sora Takenouchi (POV) x Taichi Yagami | Wordcount: 1.778
Something about us
Sora, 7:12pm Taichi…?
Taichi, 7:14pm Yes?
Sora, 7:14pm Are you available?
Taichi, 7:17pm As in single? Nope. I’m dating you, remember?
Sora, 7:18pm No, you ass. As in could you maybe come over to my place? Like, now?
Taichi 7:18pm Already on my way!
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
She read his message over and over again, unsure whether he was serious or not. It hadn’t always been like that, he wasn’t always the fastest to feel or know she wasn’t feeling well. But as they all grew up, Taichi did too. And when it came to Sora, he didn’t need a reason to come over any longer, Taichi had a sixth sense.
One thing that had never changed was that, in the end, he was always there for her. Sora had always appreciated that a lot. They had each other’s backs, were basically ride or die for the other. And so it was only a matter of time before they moved from football buddies, to friends, to best friends, even back to just friends, to unexpected crushes, to eventually boy- and girlfriend.
Lovers.
Sora’s lips curled up at the thought of that word and the association she had with it. Because even though people had said it was only a matter of time for the two of them to finally realize, at first, she herself hadn’t seen it coming at all.
When the realization of love struck, it came like a storm. Thunder and lightning made the sky lit up in a sudden manner. A whirlwind raged over her lands, leaving a track of confusion behind. Then rain poured down and slowly washed away doubts and concerns. And as the storm of emotions lied down, a cool breeze made stormy clouds drift apart, showing Sora the sun she had always been with, but had never seen like that one part that completed her clear blue skies.
They called it “love at first sight, but a bit late”.
Sora glanced at the clock. 7:46pm.
She hadn’t expected him here already, though she would lie to herself if she said she wasn’t disappointed.
With winter here and Christmas around the corner, Sora felt rather uneasy. Her mother had said it was annual winter moodswings. Which was very plausible, but she had never wanted to admit this was a thing she suffered from. There hadn’t been much time or room for Sora to be vulnerable towards others as she needed to be the strong and bigger one. Everyone counted on her. She was the one who had to take care.
But with Taichi being her rock in every way, she knew she had to exhale those old habits and let herself be taken care for.
“Let me take care of you, okay?”
Taichi’s words were engraved in her memories. Loud and clear.
*RING!*
Pulled out of her thoughts abruptly, Sora heard the doorbell ring through her little apartment. She hurried herself to the door, making it look like there was no time to lose.
“I’m sorry I’m so late,” Taichi said, his breath creating small clouds in the cold air right outside Sora’s front door. He then stepped inside, closing the door behind him and starting to take off his jacket and shoes.
“Here, let me help—”
“Na-a, missy,” Taichi quickly interrupted, “I can do that myself. You, however, can take this and bring it to the couch or bed. I’ll be there before you know it.” He said, pressing a plastic tote back into her hand and pushing her towards the living area. With one hand he gestured her to move and not stand still, a sweet smile on his face.
As been told, Sora took a seat on the couch and setting the bag to her left side. It didn’t take long for Taichi to follow, plopping into the seat on Sora’s right and in a swift motion, pulling her onto his lap and into a warm embrace with Sora’s legs on either side of his. She wrapped her own arms tightly around his neck and buried her face in the crook of his neck, taking in his scent that she grew to love so much.
“Thank you,” Sora mumbled against his warmth radiating skin.
“For what?”
Sora loosened her grip on him, taking back a head an pulling away from him slightly so she could look at him straight.
“For being here with me.”
Taichi smiled, cupping her face with his hands and pulling it back close to his, but leaving just enough space between himself and her for him to speak. “Anytime.” He said before eventually closing the gap and pressing his lips against hers.
She could feel him kiss kindly, with care and no rush. He took his time for her and she absolutely loved him for it.
“Now tell me, what do you need, or want to do?”
Sora shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know…”
“Oh!” Taichi exclaimed with excitement, reaching over to his left where the plastic tote bag was laying. “Haven’t you wondered what was in there?”
“I guessed it had something to do with food?” Sora questioned, trying to tease back.
“Haha. But no, it’s the reason why I was so late.”
Out of the bag came a headband with tiger ears on it. Sora looked at him confused.
“You were late because of hair accessories?”
“Basically, yes. I don’t know, I walked past a store on my way here and they were displayed in the window. I thought they were cute and they reminded me of you, ” Taichi smirked while placing the hairband in Sora’s hair.
“Not the first time you’re buying me hair accessories. I guess that’s a very special Yagami Taichi love language?”
“Perhaps. I also bought a bunny one for myself. The puppy one was too adorable to leave behind, so I’m bringing that one to Koushiro tomorrow as an early Christmas gift. You though…”
With his hands he roamed down from Sora’s hair over her side to her waist. He pulled her closer and Sora could feel him getting excited.
“You’re my feisty tiger~”
His lips quickly found hers, covering them in kisses and Sora could only follow kissing back. A little make out session wouldn’t harm anyone, Sora thought to herself, but tonight was not a night like that.
She gently placed her hands on Taichi’s chest amidst the kissing, pushing him back slightly.
“Not now.”
“Sorry, my bad.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it though,” Sora quickly followed up. “I’m just… not in that kinda mood…”
Taichi showed her a reassuring grin. “I understand, Sor, it’s okay if you’re not in that mood. We can also just cuddle and talk. Like, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
Sora shrugged, pouting.
“You know you can talk to me, right?”
“Mmhm,” she hummed, giving him a half smile as she rolled off of his lap and back into her seat next to him on the couch. She curled herself up against him, words unnecessary, and she turned on the television. There was a football game on which seemed like the perfect thing to watch for now.
Half an hour went by without sharing words. Taichi had brought them something to drink and snack from the kitchen a while ago, but Sora had not yet touched anything. She wasn’t in the mood, she was just feeling low, numbly staring to players playing with a ball over a field back and forth.
“Football or tennis.”
What? Suddenly, Sora turned her head into Taichi’s direction. She looked at him with confusion.
“You have to choose. This or that. Football or tennis?”
“Ehm… Football, I guess?”
Taichi smiled. “Obviously, I would choose football as well!” He happily exclaimed. In his hand he held his phone, the screen lighting up and his eyes scanned the text on it. “Here, I have some more for you.”
Sora smiled fondly, knowing this was his way to cheer her up for the night. Her back straightened and she decided to play along with his little game.
But with every choice she had to make, Sora started to feel a bit more low again. Taichi rambled on, excitedly explaining all of his choices in depth. It was what made him Taichi. Impulsive yet thought through. So innocent and playful yet serious but funny. The thing was, however, that most of his choices -if not all- didn’t line up with hers.
He was being honest, choosing what he thought was the better thing among the options. Sora wondered whether Taichi heard what she chose and if he took her choices into account. A feeling of disappointment overwhelmed her, doubts about them being together flooded her thoughts.
“We’re so not compatible…” Sora sighed, her eyes directed to the ground as she spoke quietly.
“What do you mean?” Taichi asked back, his voice sounding worried.”
“It’s just… You picking all the opposites makes me wonder whether our connection is strong enough…”
There was a short silence. Wanting to fill it up, she wanted to sigh once more, but was interrupted by Taichi’s warm hand holding her chin up and pulling it towards him. His own face closing distance between their faces as well.
“I like us being not alike in everything,” he smiled sweetly. “That way you complete me. And that makes me happy!”
Sora’s eyes grew wide, a bit watery from tears stinging. “Y-you do..?”
Taichi nodded, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close and hugging her tightly one more time. “Now stop worrying, okay?”
She smiled a wide and thankful smile and she was sure he could feel it starting to get its sparkle back.
“It might not be the right time, I might not be the right one, but there’s something about us I want to say, ‘cause there’s something between us anyw—”
Teasingly, Sora pushed him away and playfully smacked his arm, smirking at his antics and lyrical quoting all the same.
“Hey! Stop you woman, you’re hurting me..!”
“Then stop quoting Daft Punk lyrics, you baka!”
He laughed, his warmth radiating through her skin like sunshine after rainfall. And she felt thankful, re-understanding why they had always worked so well. Her eyes locked with his, trapped into their intense but sweet staring at each other.
“I love you so much,” he mouthed, knowing he didn’t need to use any sound, his eyes completely focused on her and nothing else.
Taichi saw her, whether it were their similarities or complete differences. Sora’s lips curled up into a relieved smile and shook her head no, thinking about one more difference left. Something about them.
“I love you more~”
#taiora#taichi x sora#digimon fanfiction#taichi yagami#sora takenouchi#digimon#happy bday babyyyyyyy#<333#digimon fanfiction by dfs#tai kamiya#taichi#sora#tai#daft punk reference#daft punk#something about us#Spotify
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
another Kaiju no. 8 ep and that actually is a pretty cool opening theme. There's *implications* in the visuals of how it starts. Also the cgi rendering of the protag's monster form looks so much better in the last shot of the opening theme entirely b/c its darkly lit and the glowing blue lines are more extensive you know a design is fucked when the cgi version looks 10 times better
like fuck I think I'd rather see this show animated in cgi if the designs look that much better what the hell
also the lyrics involving fears of a loss of control would be a much more interesting story than what i know the thing goes with for Kafka's relationship with his whole being a kaiju thing. I wish dude would have to combat with being a generally decent guy but gaining the instincts of an agressive predatory animal. Like, don't have to be a superpowered evil side but a superpowered feral side or even just a touch of more feral/wild behavior would be nice
Just, I am a face-monster turn lovin bastich and I know what I like
edgy teen really told the guy who doesnt have lips currently and also a mouth full of fangs to flash the witness a smile to come off as less threatening. Obviously, it was not helpful wild, this design really just needs more glowy bits to be at least 50% better
Kafka has superstrength, which is *not* fully implemented in this sequence. Like if resting his hand on the wall destroys the whole fucking wall then his footsteps should be destroying the floor
like look at that a few quick fixes would make this design look so much better. Like more glowy bits, make all teh spines the same color. Also dont just stop the spines mid back and carry them down the damn tailbone decreasing in size as they reach his coccyx, dont half ass shit
the design feels half-assed. Like, that feels like a first draft. and just it only needs a few fixes to elevate it like i get this weird shapeshifting is a gag, it's just, Well, it's just not funny and continues to make me think about how bleh the mc's monster form is. But also why tentacles and also why are none of those bits glowing.
while panicking, fleeing, and uncontrollably shapeshifting the protag's tongue shoots out and catches and eats a bird.
again I know its a gag I just want more than a cheap gag, i guess ah… I see what was meant by juvenile tone. Kafka pisses through his nipples
the thing is these gags arent very good. I laughed at the end of last ep, but this is not funny. Kafka is weirded out by his nipple piss understandable ok that bit right there of Kafka realizing that he can't achieve his goal of joining the kaiju slayers if he looks like a kaiju b/c they'd kill him on the spot. I liked that bit
honestly, I think i'd like more seriousness in the beginning, b/c like there are people coming to kill him and his body has been fundamentally changed in a very drastic way. Like establish shit first, let it sink in, and then bring in the levity. also supersenses, or at least kaiju detecting and identifying senses yeah yeah the kaiju are natural disasters but if earthquakes were hungry and at least as smart as the average critter
Kafka decides to go fight the other kaiju instead of running from the kaiju killers and saves the life of a little girl and her mom fucking punches the other bigger kaiju so hard it explodes and rains blood. nice
the angsty teen: Yeah, ok, that is definitely something you should never do to a person ah this makes me so mad just more glowy bits would make this design better if we're not changing the proportions or adding a tail.
ok this series is a mixed bag for me. SOme bits are pretty good but there's so much that 'you could have done better than this'
you know what, I think I really would have preferred an alternate thing with Kafka being stuck in kaiju for the 3 months having adventures rather than a time skip and he's been shifting uncontrollably. Like maybe have him thinking about alternate ways to achieve his goal and being uncertain if he can become/look human again. Again it would be more fitting with his namesake.
Hell, it would help Kaiju no. 8 in the story build up way more of a reputation by becoming a weird friendly neighborhood kaiju that keeps getting away from the kaiju slayers.
And frankly his kaiju form looks like a dude in a suit, he could wear a disguise. Like, he'd probably stand out wearing a disguise but at least it would avoid folks hopping on their phone going 'there's a kaiju, kill it' immediately again, a mixed bag. There's good bones here, just how they're being used is disappointing
I'll probably look into fan content, but given how shallow and shipping-focused fandom is I probably won't find anything really satisfying there either
like with his canon design, this bitch could just wear clothes
like that would be a good deadline/goal for trying to turn back human-looking in an au where Kafka was stuck looking like a kaiju for awhile. Getting his shit together to try and take the exam to get in with the monster slayers which is the last time he can try b4 hitting the new age cut off i will assume based on the quality in his voice when he's talking as a monster, that along side the not having lips and a very inhuman tongue, that the mechanisms of his speech are very different with the biology going on there also imagine being like 32 yrs old and yer 17 yr old coworker, who calls you sir b/c he was raised with manners, declares you to be his rival. Wild
Yeah… I would very much have liked more story between this important event and the night bro turned into a kaiju. We're hopping along very quickly and I'd rather get to know folks better first cgi animated vehicle
this rude blond teen girl is using the supertech to move Kafka's car out of the spot she wants to park in b/c ot has her lucky number of the day. She rich too. I do not like this child she dented the vehicle, lifted the vehicle one handed and fucking threw it. Nah, I'd have to fight that child
aint no way. the fucking repairs. the towing alone. Good lords would have to beat that child's ass
a fucking nepo baby even i'd have to fight the fucking child the chick with the pet tiger feeds the poor thing kibble. Has it live in her apartment, which is way too damn small for it, and she sends it into battle with fucking kaiju without putting armor on the poor thing
1 note
·
View note
Text
Like I Did, chapter 2
Summary: A week after this. House party. What else could I say? A/N: Angsty angsty boiii
Billy’s arm was thrown around your shoulder as you stood next to him in the kitchen of the house party. The last one of senior year and everyone was there – your last big hoorah of the your high school years. You were tucked in between Billy and Tommy, trying to continue listening to what was being said but your eyes were glued to the mop of wild brown hair on the other end of the house in the living room.
Corroded Coffin, the only band in the senior crowd, was playing covers of everyone’s favorite songs. For the past hour, they had played everything from Ratt to Scorpions. Eddie’s playing was fantastic as his fingers strummed the Warlock with great expertise. His fingers were always so quick on the neck of the guitar and of course he was showing off.
Everyone had chilled out their senior year. The bullying had stopped, realizing you were going to be adults thrust into the real world within a few days. The class of ‘86 was just spending their last few days together.
You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. It had been nearly two weeks since you left his trailer that night. He hadn’t attempted to contact you. He avoided you in the hallways. He was doing what you asked him to and yet, it still hurt. There were no shared smiles in the hallway, no make out sessions in the girls locker room. He didn’t follow you out past the football field for alone time anymore. You didn’t exist to him.
The band went quiet and you looked up to see Eddie toss back a shot that was handed to him by one of girls hanging around him. He tuned his guitar down as he glanced up at you and then immediately looked away when he seen you were staring at him.
“This is for you,” Eddie said quickly into the microphone, “You know who you are.”
The lump immediately swelled in your throat as you dared to look back up at him. He slammed another shot and then glanced back at the band, giving Gareth the signal to start and the familiar chords of your favorite song filling the air. There was no way he was going to do this to you. Not now.
“Woke up to the sound of pouring rain, The wind would whisper and I’d think of you. And all the tears you cried that called my name And when you needed me, I came through.”
His voice was smooth as he belted out the lyrics beautifully. All the memories surrounding that song flooded you as you stared at him, willing the tears to go away – silently begging him to stop. This was the first song he had sung to you on his acoustic guitar, the night you told him for the first time you loved him. The first night he didn’t say it back.
The stars were so pretty against the blackened sky. Crickets chirped nearby as you laid with your head in Eddie’s lap, his fingers gently massaging your scalp. You had snuck out out to meet him at your spot down by the quarry. He had just gotten out of jail and the first call he made was to you. He needed to see you. He’d been in the slammer for nearly two weeks at that point – picked up on a minor drug charge.
The back of his van was too hot so you settled for a blanket in the high grass. Rushed touches and kisses, soft moans, and earth shattering orgasms had passed. For the most part, you two had redressed because the last thing he needed was a public indecency charge. He was wearing his jeans but nothing else, tattooed chest visible to the world. The acrid scent of weed filled the air around the two of you as he lit a joint, took a drag, and then passed it to you.
You didn’t know if it was the weed, the relaxed after sex cuddle, or just true feelings that made you utter the words. But before you could stop yourself, you were looking up at him with a soft smile as his fingers brushed through your hair.
“I love you, Eddie.” You said – not expecting to hear it back, but not denying that it would’ve been nice.
With that smile that made your heart burst, he leaned down and kissed your lips, warm hand splayed across the side of your face. He didn’t say it back but you could almost feel it in the way he touched you.
“Can I play something for you?” He asked, brown eyes glinting down at you.
“You never have to ask me that,” you mumbled against another kiss.
He killed the solo because of course he did. Music was his true talent. His fingers blistered across the fret as if it was what they were made to do. The crowd, mostly drunk by now, had their arms in the air and were swaying back and forth. Billy had faded into an after thought even though you were pressed right up against him.
“We’ve had our share of hard times, but that’s the price we paid. And through it all, we kept the promise that we made. I swear, you’ll never be lonely. ‘woke up to the sound of pouring rain
Washed away a dream of you. But nothing else could ever take you away. ‘Cause you’ll always be my dream come true.”
He leaned back away from the microphone to take a deep breath before he put every ounce of emotion he had into the next lyrics, staring straight at you through the crowd:
“Oh my darlin’,” He was quiet for a moment as he sucked in a shaky breath and then gave the next line his all, “I love you.”
The band kicked back in and everyone cheered except for you. You excused yourself from the crowd and walked outside, feeling his eyes on you the entire way. The band continued to play the rest of the song and you felt as if your heart was going to burst out of your chest as you walked outside, the warm stale air greeting you.
You heard the rumble of Eddie saying something into the microphone inside the house and then the music went quiet. You sat down on the edge of the steps, propping your head on your hand as you looked out at the emptying backyard. You heard the door open behind you and you sighed, already knowing who it was.
“Y/N?” His voice was raspy, having lost it from singing for the past hour, “I – I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
“No you’re not,” you said softly. He never knew how to genuinely apologize. He thought just saying “sorry” made it all better. He never truly meant it.
He sat down beside of you, keeping a bit of distance. He knew better than to push his luck and he genuinely didn’t want to argue with you tonight.
“I miss you,” you whispered. Thankfully it was just the two of you out here. You were sure Billy had lost sight of you in the crowd or forgotten he was even truly there with you.
“Yeah?” Eddie snorted, “Wonder why?”
Your eyes cut over to him as you frowned, “Don’t be cocky with me, Eddie...not right now.”
“’M not,” Eddie said as he brought his knees up to his chest, “You don’t look happy with h-”
“Because I’m not,” you cut him off, “I should be. By all means, I should be in love with him but I can’t stop thinking about you.”
You watched as he picked at the loose thread in his jeans, trying to find something to do with his hands. Confrontation always made him antsy but especially when it was with you. You didn’t yell and scream at him. You wanted to have actual conversations and talk things through and he didn’t know how to deal with that type of maturity.
“You’re going to graduate and then you’re off to Berkeley in the fall just like you talked about.” Eddie sighed, “You’re going to leave me anyway so...why not make it easier?”
You wondered for a second why he brought that up before you pushed the thoughts away. He wasn’t afraid of losing you. If he was, he wouldn’t have mentally shoved you away...would he?
“I didn’t get in,” you said softly.
“Huh?”
“Early admission...I didn’t get in.” You nodded, forcing your lips into a tight line, “My grades weren’t good enough.”
“What about the other ones?” Eddie asked, his voice soft and careful. He didn’t want to upset you.
“All big fat no’s.” You nodded, “I’m stuck in this fucking town for the rest of my life apparently. Gonna work my fucking life away in the factory just like my parents.”
“Stop,” Eddie sighed, playfully bumping his shoulder against yours, “No you’re not. You’ll find away out of here. My girl’s smart like that.”
You felt your heart clench at the way he called you his girl. You weren’t going to bring it up again – weren’t going to beg him to love you. But you still didn’t understand why. Why weren’t you good enough for him?
“Not according to the college admissions team,” you snorted.
“Fuck ‘em,” Eddie said, his hair tickling your shoulder as he shook his head.
“Wished it was that easy, Eds.” You sighed.
And just for a moment, you let the barrier down. You leaned your head against his leather clad shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body even through the thick fabric against your cheek. You felt his lips press against the top of your head as he nuzzled his nose against your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.
“What did you mean by ‘make it easier’, Eddie?” You asked, your fingers toying with the chain on the end of his leather sleeve.
“Hmm?” He mumbled.
“Earlier – just a few minutes ago, you said that I was going to be leaving anyway so why not make it easier.” You glanced up at him, seeing him staring down at you with a confused look.
“I don’t know why I said that,” Eddie shrugged – even though it was a lie. He knew exactly why he said it. The thought of you leaving for college, leaving this town and never coming back, crushed him.
You were quiet as you hugged his arm to you, feeling a bit of comfort for the first time in weeks. You had never met another person that made you feel so safe and secure. His presence brought you such a deep peace internally while everything around you was falling to pieces. He was your comfort and safe space – your person.
“Actually,” Eddie sighed and tangled his fingers with yours, “You deserve the truth to that, Y/N. The thought of you leaving here sucked. I mean, you deserve everything good in this world. You really do but the thought of you leaving here...and forgetting me?” His voice trembled just a bit and you looked up at him in slight shock. Was he actually showing emotion?
“It killed me,” he finished his sentence, “You know I – I don’t get attached to people. I don’t allow that to happen for a reason and maybe – maybe there’s something fucked up in here for that,” he tapped his finger against his temple, “But you...the thought of you forgetting me really fuckin’ scared me.”
“Forget you?” You gasped up at him, “Eddie. I could never forget you.”
“There is nothing memorable about me, Y/N.” He snorted, “You’d go out to a college and find someone better. Someone that’s a better person and maybe has their fuckin’ life together...a smart guy with a lot of money who can treat you like you deserve.”
“Eddie-”
“I am never getting out of Hawkin’s, Y/N. This is it for me.” He laughed sarcastically and tightened his grip on your hand, “But you made living here better. You made it worth all the bullying and the fucking assholes. You’re actually the reason why I stayed in school and fought so hard to graduate because for once, I had someone who seen that I could do better – could be a better person.”
He sniffed roughly and blinked away the unshed tears. This was all you had ever truly wanted from him. He was opening up to you, telling you his fears and his inner thoughts for the first time.
“And ya know,” he laughed softly, “Not to sound like a big ole pussy, but...the way you love me...it scares me how good it feels. No one’s ever wanted me around for long...no one’s ever stayed. I’m not used to people treating me like you do, Y/N. I’m not used to...to being wanted in more than just a sexual way or for fuckin’ drugs. I ain’t used to it at all...you feel too good to be real.”
“But I am real,” you said, your thumb stroking over his as you tightened your grip on his hand, “I’m right here, Eds. I have been this entire time. I’m not going anywhere.”
“But that’s the thing,” Eddie sighed, “I know you, Y/N. Who’s to say that if we get together finally and then a college accepts you?”
You watched as he stood up, breaking the connection you two had physically. He lit the cigarette he had tucked behind his ear as he walked down the rest of the steps slowly, guarding the flame from the wind with his free hand.
“You’d stay here with me instead of going out and doing something huge with your life.” Eddie said, smoke billowing out of his mouth, “And then I’d ruin your life too.”
“You don’t know that.” You said, folding your arms over your chest.
“I do because I know you, Y/N.” He sighed.
The door behind you opened and out stumbled the girl he came with. A trashy girl named Rhonda who you hated the sight of. Her over painted face with enough hairspray in her hair to kill someone. She reeked of cheap perfume and beer.
“Eddie, I’m ready to go.” She pouted, “I’m like...really drunk.”
He sighed to himself as he smoked his cigarette. You could see the inner turmoil on his face as he thought about what he should do. Does he leave and take her home, or does he stay and talk with you? This was an important conversation the two of you needed to have.
Don’t go, you thought to yourself, Please don’t go.
Eddie stubbed his cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe and sighed softly as he looked up at her, “Sure thing, doll. I’ll be right in.”
“Now...please?” Rhonda grumbled, “I’m starving.”
He sighed and nodded, flicking the dead cigarette out into the lawn before he walked back up the steps. He didn’t even say goodbye this time. He just...left. With her. Leaving you all alone, wondering what the fuck just happened...
#Eddie Munson#Eddie Munson fanfic#Eddie Munson Fanfiction#Stranger Things#Stranger things fanfic#original fics#thefreakymunson
147 notes
·
View notes
Note
AHHHH oh my god congrats on 3k you deserve it!!! I have an idea of maybe yandere mafia au Dabi and Hawks (if poly is not cool just pick one ) maybe newly kidnapped darling!reader is refusing to eat or get out of bed or just sitting there looking numb cause they just don’t know how to handle it. Dabi n hawks first try punishing reader for not being reactive but end up doing everything they can to get reader back to how reader was when they were stalking them ??
Sorry if this makes no sense I’m baked like a banana chocolate muffin atm. Congrats on 3k!! Your writing is to die for and ily ❤️❤️
♡ Numb ♡
(A/N: Starting off the au prompt list today!! So many of you requested different prompts with so many different characters and I’m so excited to write!!! I hope you all like this, and also thank you for helping me with the whole stolen fic situation. It’s not deleted yet, but I’m surprised so many people came to my defense 🥺👉👈)
Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, mafia au, angsty, mentions of violence, mentions of drugging (not that much tho), also I didn’t add in the darker stuff I hope that’s alright 👉👈
Summary: Keigo and Dabi + Mafia Au (Yan!Dabi x GN!reader x Yan!Keigo)
3k Prompt List ➸ ♡
Masterlist ➸ ♡
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“Did they respond today?” Keigo asks his counterpart. Dabi simply shaking his head at him, you hadn’t responded all day. In fact you haven’t responded to anything the past week or two they’ve had you. You were just numb, staying silent as you tried to process all of this.
You hadn’t expected to be kidnapped by two very dangerous people, mafia bosses in fact. Although no one really does. It was terrifying, even through the thick walls and beautifully decorated room for you, you could hear the screams of people that got in their way.
You could hear the meeting talking about horrendous things. And even if Dabi and Keigo weren’t doing any of that to you, they treat you quite well in fact, but they still scare you so much. Even worse is even knowing that fear, they refused to leave you alone.
Dabi and Keigo took turns caring for you and today it was Dabi’s turn. He had tried taking care of you, tried to get a reaction out of you.
Any reaction besides tears running down your face. Yet he got nothing. In fact you hadn’t even ate, making Dabi drug you until you couldn’t fight back as he spoon fed you.
Dabi explains how he had tried to get you to talk today was Keigo cleans the blood off his hands. Of course, both of them knew you probably won’t going to react today, just staying numb again. Just like everyday, but there was no harm in trying.
“They’re probably asleep, I know that the poor baby hasn’t slept since we took them so I knocked them out with some crushed up pills” Dabi says nonchalantly, walking through the large mansion with Keigo, both of them knowing that they’re going to your room to check on you and see you sleep.
Dabi grabs the keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door and letting Keigo and him slip into the room quickly as not to wake you from your sleep. He may be a big soft for you, not that he’ll admit it.
The softly decorating room only being lit by the soft glow of a lamp on the other side of the room than your bed. The softness of the lamp giving a feeling of comfort to the room, you curled up in many blankets on the bed.
Without even saying a word, Keigo and Dabi lock eyes thinking the exact same thought. Dabi crawls into the bed behind you, spooning you. While Keigo lays in front of you, putting your head on his chest happily and combing through your hair with his fingers.
You had to get used to them eventually, even if you’re numb right now. Maybe when you wake up and see how sweet they’re being to you, you’ll realize it’s not to bad here after all.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Thank you for reading, darling!!
#3k follower event#soft yandere#yandere bnha#yandere mafia au#yandere dabi#yandere!dabi#yandere dabi smut#soft yandere dabi#yandere dabi x reader#yandere!keigo#yandere keigo#yandere takami keigo#yandere keigo x reader#yandere!hawks#yandere hawks x reader#yandere hawks
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
not anymore | peter parker
anon ask; Hi!! I've recently discovered your writing and lemme just say it's incredible. So, seeing that you're taking mcu!peter requests I couldn't help but ask for a post!nwh Peter fic where reader comforts Peter after everything that happened (I don't want to spoil anything just in case) if you're not comfortable writing that it's okay. Thank you in advance <33
ahhh u are so sweet 😙 ily!! || THIS TAKES PLACE IN NWH WHEN PETER GOES INTO HIS APARTMENT AT THE END OF THE MOVIE!! i did change this around to make it more.. meaningful and angsty but i’m so thankful u requested this, and idk if u wanted platonic reader and peter but i made it to where they were in love cuz i love love bahahahaha - x
post nwh!! so there will be spoilers :: peter x avenger!fem!reader :: warnings : fluff, angst <3 :: wc: 1.3k
the sound of keys jiggling in the door sound through the narrow hall. a grunt of frustration escaping peters throat as he struggled to get the door unlocked— finally being able to push open the creaking door.
peters glazed over eyes took in the sight of the gray dimly lit room before him. he crouched down to pick up the box next to him that had most of him belongings. sitting the box down on a old, wooden table, the boy reached into it, pulling out text books from the college courses he would be taking as he started his college— alone.
he felt he would be alone.
when peter had walked into his apartment, he had carelessly left open his door. he had forgotten- his mind being set to auto pilot as he went through the motions.
when doctor strange had completed the spell for all to have forgotten peter.. he left a hole. and that hole was big enough for the spell to some how pass you. you knew strange personally, so you knew when he had tampered with things. you didn’t understand how the spell managed to sure pass you, but that was strangers problem to solve now. right now, you just wanted to let peter know that he wasn’t as alone as he felt. he had you.
but not yet. you just waited. you stood and waited outside of his ajar door— and you watched. you watched as his hands reached into the box for what you assumed to be the last item. you watched a peters body stiffen as he held up a little lego man - and your heart shattered.
you knew of mj and ned. peters best friend. you had met mj a day at the avengers compound and ned shortly after. they had both told you about how much peter talked about you like he was a love sick puppy, but you would just laugh it off. you hadn’t realized your feels for peter until it was too late. but late is the perfect timing right about now.
you watched carefully as peter set down the lego, his hands supporting his bodyweight as he hunched over the table.
pushing the door closed behind you with your eyes still on him, you tired to shut the door loud enough to get his attention. and you did.
peters shoulders jolted as he turned his head towards you. you. peters brain spun with disbelief as he started at you.
at first he assumed that this was just a fragment of his imagination as he tried to coup with what was happening to him. of course his imagination would imagine you of all people. you were the one thing that was on his mind when he was unpacking until he was reminded of ned— having come across a letter that he was going to give you. he was scared to believe what he was seeing. but then you spoke to him.
“webs— hi.”
your voice cracked at the way tears fell from his eyes at the oh so familiar nickname. it’s what you, bucky, and sam would call him. but mainly you.
peter didn’t say anything. he couldn’t.
he ran towards you and you met him in the middle with your arms stretched wide.
“o-oh my god. oh my— you. you remember me? you— how?”
“i don’t know peter. i don’t know i just know i do and-” you paused, pulling away from him to look him in the eyes.
“your not alone webs. not now and not ever again. okay?”
he nodded his head, brown curls falling as he did so. he eyes red and full of tears as he looked into yours. then a wide smile broke out onto his boyish features.
“i love you.” he professed
“i love you too bug boy.”
peters hand met the back of your neck but then he hesitated.
“can i uh… can we- i mean—”
you stopped his rambling as you pushed your lips to his. smiling into the kiss, your hand held onto his shoulders as you pulled away. looking at peter, you giggled lightly as you noticed how his eyes were still closed- suddenly jolting open.
“oh! i should uh probably give this to you.”
you watched as he reached over to the table behind him, gabbing a sheet of paper that had you name on it in his hand writing.
“what’s this?”
“if for you. just read it. i’ll go get you a snack form the vending machine just down the hall,” he said, making his way towards the door. you nodded as you started at the paper. you looked at the date at the top left corner and realized that this was his response to a letter you had sent him a while ago. you remembered how are you and peter would pass notes during team meetings at the compound. the last time the two of you did this, you had been the last one to give a letter. you couldn’t remember what the letter said but you did remember the look on peters face— pure joy and excitement. he smiled the whole day. you remember watching him fold up the paper and tuck it into his jeans pocket as he wrote back to you… but he never gave you the letter he wrote.
walking over to the sofa, you sat down slowly as you opened up the wrinkled paper. you saw another, small white sheet of paper fall out of the one you opened.
eyebrows furrowing together, you went to pick of what had fallen— then noticing that it had peters name on it in your hand writing with the same date as the paper peter had given you.
“my letter..?”
you were overly confused. opening up your letter, you had started to read—
hey web boy. i don’t wanna stall or sugarcoat anything because you know I hate that.. so her goes nothing :)…
i like you. a lot and—
“and i’ll always be there for you even when you feel most alone. on your darkest days. just like you are for me.”
you herd peters husked over voice from behind the coach. you heart warmed as you listed to him read the letter out loud as he peered over your shoulder— watching as your finger traced over the words you read to yourself.
“that letter will forever the best letter we had ever exchanged,” he said as he walked around the couch to come sit next to you.
your arms flung around peter neck as his went around your torso - rubbing your back lightly.
“i’m always here for you-” you mumbled into his shirt, “and i won’t leave. you’ve been through so much and i hate seeing you like this. so whatever you want me to do or need me for— i’m write here. always.”
“i’m always here for you-” you mumbled into his shirt, “and i won’t leave. you’ve been through so much and i hate seeing you like this. so whatever you want me to do or need me for— i’m write here. always.”
eventually, you two pulled away.
“did you read mine?” peter asked as he looked at you.
“hmm?”
“my uh- my letter back to you?”
“oh yea- no i forgot. i’ll read it now,” you shifted on the couch as you picked up the letter.
“hang on,” peter rushed off the couch and over to the box of items. once he got back to the couch, he set down a book, that you immediately recognize to be mjs, on the coffee table in front of you. then peter slouched back some next to you- wrapping his arm around you shoulder as he snuggled into your side watching as you open the letter.
just as you began to read to yourself — peter set down the little man from the lego death star on top on the book.
#marvel mcu#fanfic#fanfiction#peter parker#peter parker angst#peter parker x reader#mcu fanfiction#peter parker fluff#tom holland#tom holland angst#tom holland fluff#tom holland smut#peter parker smut#peter parker x y/n#spiderman no way home#spider man x y/n#peter parker smau#long imagine#long reads
273 notes
·
View notes